#always time for phil being cute with kids
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Why Pissa Works: Qsmp Analysis Essay
This is more of an analysis of the relationship in general and why it’s so important to understanding both Missa and Phil as characters. And it’s a disgrace if you ignore their relationship as it’s very important to their characters. I already delved into them as characters but I miss them and therefore I want to dissect the dynamic in this essay. And why it works so well. This time I am having some help from friends to give me their thoughts on them as well. As they are as “normal” about them like me.
At the start no one really knew what sort of longing and pining and loyalty that would spawn from what is practically a random lottery. Missa and Phil being together was fate. I think no other pairing would have clicked so well for Missa or Phil. They were sorta destined to be together to be husband’s. But no one could have guessed how important they would be to each other. No one would have guessed how important this random lottery would be.
When they were paired. They immediately clicked. They immediately joked and laughed. They had fun together. And that was the spark for their relationship to blossom from. They were THE couple. Everyone was jealous of them. They were disgustingly happy. And there was always a GREAT something between them from Day 1. There’s reasons why Chayanne and eventually Tallulah are so protective over their marriage. But even then, they were just cute. They didn’t have the extra something that changed us for the better and the worse. What really made Pissa so special. Until……
The four months of utter pain. Of yearning. Of everyone accepting that things might be over before things really could blossom. But it wasn’t the end for someone. It never was the end for Phil. Time is different for someone touched by death. “Phil is patient and doesn’t take breaks between meetings as difficulties. Their relationship will never sour. When Missa is there, he picks up where they left off.” an excerpt from my talks with Ash. And she is completely correct. I have mentioned this plenty of times in my previous essays about their characters. But Phil doesn’t mind he has to wait for Missa. Time passes differently for immortals. But also Missa just being Missa has long acquired his loyalty. Something hard to get but harder to lose.
And it’s because of Phil utter loyalty and willingness to wait that their dynamic really was able to bloom. Missa took his heart. The less Phil can do is wait. Because when Missa does Phil always has so much fun with him. Missa always reminds Phil why he stays loyal to him. Missa is JUST so good. Phil can see that.
Phil always had valid reason to move on from Missa especially during the four months. No one knew he would return. And he almost gave up hope by the end. But throughout the four months he mentioned him, he looked at skulls all sad, and he yearned for him. And when he came back? He was so happy. He never blamed Missa but you can tell he wants to spend time with him more. You can tell he missed him. You can miss someone being gone and not hate him. He just missed his husband.
“Missa also rolls with the punches a lot, when Phil says there's a new kid, Missa takes that and immediately bonds with Tallulah, when something crazy happens, Missa is there to eventually bring a smile to his family faces. They both don't get hung up on the craziness in between.” As quoted directly from my friend Ash. She is right. This right here is what changed the pissa dynamic for the better. Phil notices things and he noticed how kind and wonderful Missa is. Phil remembers others kindness.
Missa is always on his family side. Phil can depend on him always. So of course he is also Tallulah father. Missa was happy to take that responsibility. Missa is there to bring a smile to his family even in the rainiest of days. He is there when they need time to just enjoy living instead of surviving. Which is addicting to a man that only knew how to survive. Theres reasons why Phil fell for Missa.
Phil doesn’t verbalize his emotions. He is always a show not tell type of character. But it’s clear to anyone he adores missa. He stares at skulls missing him. He has his obession with giant Missa. He always has a place for Missa in his home. He collects Missa art like shinnies. He is so darn possessive of him. He loves Missa so much and it’s clear through his actions.
Missa also brings him great comfort in general. Missa is similar to him in the ways that matter but his complete opposite in other ways. Phil is emotionally repressed while Missa emotions bleed out like ink. Phil is skilled in fighting and surviving while Missa is best at music and art. Not skills you really need to survive.
So they always had this sweet dynamic and it grew with patience, with love, and a healthy dose of yearning on both sides. Enjoying each other when they are able. Soaking each other affection and love. But then Purgatory happened.
And they got spilt up. And this caused both to realize they just didn’t love each other. But they needed each other. Flaws and all. And that they definitely couldn’t harm each other. That they always been each other homes. They needed to separate to realize how important the other is. They both had their realizations. And post-purgatory we did see an uptick in very affectionate pissa.
And it was beautiful to see how their relationship has grown. But then Prison happened. And they fully showed everyone how much they care about each other. Phil and the kids just soaking Missa being present. Them being so happy despite in actual prison. Phil being possessive over Missa. Phil and Missa finally kissing (numerous times).
Purgatory may have made them realize they needed each other but prison made them realize they wanted each other. They wanted to be a family. They wanted to be happy. And it made both of them selfish. Which was they always sorta wanted.
They say I love you with every glance. They say I love you with every tired cuddle. They say I love you with every smile. They say I love you when they are watching the kids sleep. They say I love you protecting each other. They say I love you finally letting the others see them vulnerable. They don’t need to use words. They know they love each other. And that’s beautiful. No wonder why we are so “normal” about their sweet relationship.
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here’s qsmp character names in thai script the pronunciation is the same as english i use their native language pronunciation as a reference also so for funsie i’ll write them in both the proper way of english to thai lexical borrowing and in the way that teenagers/internet would write (long story for next time on why) AND if i’d see some thai person with that name
tldr: the template would be “lexical borrowing” - “internet lingo” - “y/n that i would see this name irl”
English Speakers
BadBoyHalo: แบดบอยเฮโล or แบดบอยฮาโล depends on how you pronounce halo - แบ้ด (just the word bad) - the “boy/บอย” part is actually a common name in thailand
DanTDM: แดนทีดีเอ็ม or just แดน - แดน or แดนทดอ (dan + how you’d pronounce the abbr “TDM” in thai) - dan is a common name
FitMC: ฟิตเอ็มซี or just ฟิต - ฟิต - i’ve never seen anyone with this name but i could see this name popping off in the next generation
Foolish: ฟูลิช - ฟูช like foosh - nope not happening
IronMouse: ไอรอนเมาส์ - ไอรอนเม้าส์ or หนูเหล็ก (literal translation of ironmouse in thai) - NO
Jaiden: เจเดน - เจเดน - i could see some interacial/gen z parents naming their child this
Lenay: เลเนย์ - เลเน่ - i could see it i have a friend named เนเน่ (nené) that’s close i think
Nihachu: นิฮาชู (this is weird asf to write in thai) or นิกิ (niki) - นิกกี้ (pronounced nikki) - yesssssssssss นิกกี้ is somewhat common and it’s cute af
Philza: ฟิลซา or ฟิล - ฟิว - yes? but it wouldn’t be “phil” but something like “fill” or “field” don’t ask why (side note: the za part is a super famous part of thai gamer nametag in late 90s so me and my friend like to joke about phil being secretly thai)
Quackity: แควกคิตี - แคว้กคิตี้ - do i really have to answer this
Slimecicle: สไลม์ซิเคิล - สไลม์สิเคิ้ล or just สไลม์ - naur
Tina: ทีนา - ทีน่า - definitely yes
Tubbo: ทับโบ - ทับโบ้ - definitely not
Wilbur Soot: วิลเบอร์ ซูต - วิลเบ้อ - yeah but the parents have to be so snobby
Spanish Speakers
Carre: คาร์เร - คาเร่ - no
ElMariana: เอลมาริอานา - มาริอาน่า - yes without the el
ElQuackity: เอลแควกคิตี - เอลแคว้กกี้ (elquacky) - ……….
Germán: แฮร์มาน - they will just wrote เจอร์มาน/เยอรมัน like that language german - i could see เยอรมัน “german” being the name
Luzu: ลูธู - they will say ลูซู (lu-zoo) - maybe in twenty years
Maximus: แมกซิมุส - แมกซิมัส (the english pronunciation of maximus) or แม๊กโซ่ (maxo) - แม็ก (max) is a common name
Missa: มิสซา - มิสซ่า - no
Pol: ปอล or พอล idk which is closer - พอล - this is actually hilarious bc in thai/khmer we have the name that spells “pol” too but it’s pronounced more like พล “pohn” as in pol pot
Rivers: ริเวอร์ส - ริเว้อ - yes definitely it’s a beautiful name
Roier: รอแยร์ or รอเยอร์ - รอเย้อ - nope
Rubius: รูบิอุส - รูเบี้ยส - not a chance
Spreen: เอสปรีน - สปรีน (they will pronounce it sa-preen) - don’t think so
Vegetta: เวเกตตา - เวจีต้า or เวจีตา (like how foosh pronounced)- if you want your kid to be bully so yeah (db is also huge here but in like late gen x - early gen y)
Willyrex: วิลลีเรกซ์ - วิลลี่ (just willy) - วิลลี่ yes if you’re wasian
Portuguese Speakers
Bagi: บาจิ - บาจี้ - nope
Cellbit: เซลล์บิต - เซลบิต - no.
Felps: เฟลปส์ - เฟล้ป - i think you could pass it as that swimmer’s last name some people are crazy
Mike: ไมค์ - ไม้ค - is a common name and my cousin’s name is also mike
Pac: แพ็ก - แพ้ค - is a legit name but uncommon
French Speakers
Antoine Daniel: อองตวน แดเนียล - อองตวน แดเนียล - อองตวน (antoine) became somewhat popular in the past year bc there’s a boxer with the same name
Baghera Jones: บาเกรา โจนส์ - บาเกร่า - nope
Etoiles: เอตัวล์ - เอตัว - no but there’s a bakery shop called saint etoile and every time i pass it i always have a picture of cubito etoiles in little twin star costume flashes in my head
Kameto: คาเมโต - คาเมโตะ - naur
Pierre: ปีแยร์ - ปิแอร์ - yes but you need to be wasian or it will not suit your face
Korean Speaker
악어: อากอ - อากอ - i could see it since most people love south korea
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just saw a heart-wrenching edit on tiktok (sad music and all) about q!cellbit and the way he interacts with the eggs and i just...
i remember when i was still getting into the qsmp (which i did from cellbit's pov) and was scrolling the wiki on the daily, trying to figure out past lore and relationships and everything
and every single time i clicked on an egg's page i would end up seeing cellbit's face somewhere in the relationship box. and it always made me grin so wide because it was just...cute. and then i realized a lot of them had even mentioned things like him being one of their favorite tios or whatever and i'm just so. fucking. soft. about the idea of just-
this guy. comes to this island. in the middle of nowhere—doesn't really know how he ended up there, doesn't remember much about where he came from, nothing. and, like, it's natural to be a bit skittish or at least defensive, especially when there's already so many people here, because you don't know what they will do to you, how they'll react to anything: they are essentially unknown entities.
and if you really think about it, that completely includes the eggs. because although they're just kids, q!cellbit was canonically in a war at, like, age 15. he's definitely not one to underestimate someone because of their age—he is damn well aware of how scary people can be, regardless of what their age is.
but then they start interacting, and, like—tallulah gives him flowers, and ramon picks him for a partner in the boat race, and he's able to joke and play around with chayanne and bobby, and...in a way, it's like seeing himself, or rather, what he could have been.
because he never got that; he never got to do that. he can see the relationships they have with their parents—tallulah and chayanne with phil, ramon with fit, dapper with bbh, bobby with roier and jaiden—and he sort of comes to realize, like, "these kids don't know." they don't know what it's like to be at war. they don't know what it's like to end up in jail. they don't know what it's like to not be able to live because you're too focused on surviving. whether it's been that way in the past and they don't remember or not, they don't know.
and, inwardly, he decides he's going to make damn fucking sure it stays that way.
so he starts collecting flowers, to give some to tallulah the next time they meet, and the way she beams assures him he'll continue. and when ramon makes a mistake in the boat race and starts beating himself up about it, he empathizes and reassures him. (practically makes the poor kid cry.)
he sees the way chayanne takes the lead around the younger eggs and takes note, making sure to joke around and play with him whenever he can—because he may be the oldest, and the most responsible, but he deserves to have fun, too.
all of this includes richas, of course. in fact, it's even more exaggerated, to the extent that (in some ways similarly to fit) he mostly lets richas do what he wants, only growing concerned or stern if the kid's life is in danger. (because he saw what happened to bobby, and he's not going to let it happen on his watch.)
because there's enough pain in the world. chaos runs rampant on the island, from the federation to the codes, from the kidnappings to the tasks, from the bombs to the capybaras. there is death at every turn, and this island can be deceiving, because it doesn't seem like it. it seems perfectly fine.
but he knows.
he's been in this position before, where everyone and everything is trying to kill him. he's familiar with the concept of survival. and this island is survival.
but these are kids. they don't need that. hell, he had that as a kid, and look how he turned out. no, if he has anything to say about it, nothing will seem out of the ordinary. as much as he can help it. he will gives flowers to tallulah, he will make jokes with chayanne, he will explore with richas, he will spend time with ramon and dapper—all to offer even a semblance of normalcy.
so uh the fluff part of this train of thought is over so click off now if you don't want the hurt <3
but then things start to change. bobby dies, and the federation teases them about it, dangling the child above their heads. the codes ramp up their attacks. the kidnappings start to increase. people die and respawn more frequently. and the more he tries to get free, to get away from the island, the worse things get for the current inhabitants.
he meets pomme. this terrified egg that's been trapped behind a wall since before he even got there. and he realizes that he won't be able to shelter them forever.
things are going to happen, one way or another, to shatter the fragile illusion of reality the islanders are trying to create for these kids. in some way, the curtain is going to fall, and it is going to hurt. it's going to hurt as badly as it hurt him when he was thrown into battle. it's going to hurt as badly as it hurt him when he ended up in a top-security prison when he was barely an adult. it's going to hurt as badly as it hurt him when the wool was yanked away from his own eyes by that white bear not a week after his arrival on the island.
so whatever you do, don't think about what it must've felt like to find that book. don't think about what he must've been thinking as he flipped through those old, yellowed journal pages. don't think about him reading that lost egg's words, and just thinking, "god, this could've been me."
because it very well could've been.
the book literally talks about not wanting to survive, but wanting to live, and all he can think about for the rest of the day is how it was abandoned. same as him—only one was on a battlefield, and one was in this tiny-ass room. and there was no warrior in shining armor, no police officer taking pity to pull this egg out of there. he had someone. this egg had no one.
so of course he switches out the keychain on his backpack. because carrying that egg with him is like carrying a piece of himself, in just the same way that all the eggs feel like a piece of himself.
he can't protect the eggs forever. he knows that. but that doesn't mean he can't try.
#i'm just- i'm just really not okay thinking about the relationship of q!cellbit and the eggs.#long post#they genuinely make me so upset :( <3#qsmp#qsmp drabble#qsmp headcanons#qsmp cellbit#qsmp eggs#ev;memory#character study#i don't even know if all of this is a hundred percent accurate i'm just.#spewing words and having feelings.
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Monster Mash
peter maximoff x reader smut
warnings: shameless smut, smut, kissing, porn with plot, halloween, zombies, biting, undead, undead!reader, gender neutral reader, zombie kink
word count: 11,996
a/n: first of three peter-centric halloween fics!! hopefully i'll get them all posted before the month ends!! timeline here is extremely fuzzy, and might not fall in line with canon. it's kind of super ambiguous.
the usual apologies: clunky writing, potentially ooc peter/other characters, inconsistencies, ending's super meh, etc etc etc. idk if peter would realistically be down to bang a cute, zombified reader. but hey, it's fiction. why the heck not!
tag list (i remembered this time!!): @dewberryobssesed @violetharmonscupcake @kaismanwich @jellyluvr @icannot3 @taintandviolent @ahoyladiesz @scene-and-dandylover @quickandsilvers @luttic @billielourdslays
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October. Just a week before Halloween.
Peter didn’t celebrate the holiday too often these days. Not like he used to. Ever since he took up teaching at the X-mansion, he only participated in a handful of Halloween activities. The staple being - playing escort for mutant kiddos on trick-or-treating ventures. An activity he enjoyed a lot, since the kiddos referred to “Mr. Maximoff” as “the school's most awesome trick-or-treat buddy.” Which had nothing to do with Peter swiping a little extra candy - for the kids, of course - when the other teachers weren’t looking. Swear on his life.
Another Halloween festivity he loved? The school's annual, X-family Halloween party. The team generally left Peter in charge of decorations, considering it took him no time at all to set them up. Professor Chuck himself - legendary baldy - always played host at those parties. As per tradition - after the party died down - Peter cozied up in the living room with the team. They’d gather together to watch everyone’s favorite horror flicks on VHS.
He really couldn’t wait for this year’s festivities. Peter looked forward to those after-party, horror movie marathons every year. Movie nights with the team? Pretty freakin’ awesome. If only for two reasons: The abundance of sugary garbage to snack on. And the way Ororo loooooooved snuggling up with him on the couch. Being so hot natured helped. Living life in the fast lane - operating like a human furnace - sure had its perks sometimes. ‘Ro’s cuddling made an excellent distraction from Peter’s unbridled loneliness. Haha...
C-...Consider that a topic for another day. Moving on.
On horror movie night, Peter inevitably saw the jumpscares coming leagues before anyone else. It never failed. He’d call them seconds ahead of time. With ‘Ro lying at his side, and his arm wrapped around her waist. Peter would exclaim, “Jumpscare!”, breaking the tension heavy silence amongst the group. Spoiling whatever movie played. Everyone hated it, of course. Kurt growled at him. Animalistic, but nowhere near intimidating. Jubilee pelted Peter with popcorn.
Peter just couldn’t help himself. Those scares were so predictable and boring sometimes. Sure, he liked horror movies enough. With all the gnarly gore and twisted kills. But they never freaked him out, since he didn’t spook easily. His incomprehensible reaction time made terror a tough game.
All that being said...
Even with his totally outrageous bravery streak, Peter - guilty as charged - sure had his candy-ass moments.
This current mission proved, without a doubt, one of the spookiest situations he’d ever landed himself in. He could feel it in the air tonight. And not in the groovy, Phil Collins way either. An ominous sense of uneasiness crawled across his skin. Eerie vibes sent chills creeping up his spine like spiders through a web. Peter wished he could fast forward to Halloween night on the couch with ‘Ro. Heck, he'd even take decorating duty over this any day of the week. At least he could go all out, and have his own fun with it.
For an October’s night, the weather seemed uncannily coincidental. Drops of rain showered from a mass of black clouds. A sharp crack of lightning struck the ground, with a roar of thunder following in succession. It rattled the very foundation of the abandoned lab Peter found himself exploring. As part of a last minute, late night mission.
Below his feet, tiled floors laid in disrepair. Dirtying the mismatched laces of his untied sneakers. Peter snuck his way through murky hallways, his heightened senses buzzing on edge. Fight or flight kicked into high gear, making him all the more sensitive to any outside stimuli. Another echoing roar rumbled through the building, threatening to topple its cracking walls. Peter worried the ceiling might cave in at any moment.
A terrifying thought. But it happened to be the exact reason Hank chose Peter for this mission to begin with. Should shit hit the fan, Peter could skedaddle at the speed of light unscathed. Easy peasy, lemon squeezy. Unlike his other team members, who might risk being flattened like a pancake. Under the weight of, not one, but two floors above.
…Speaking of pancakes. Peter should definitely drop by a mom ‘n pop diner before heading back to base. He could really go for a fresh stack of late night hotcakes right about now. Warm and soft. With chocolate chips melting on the inside. Caked in sticky syrup and slathered with butter. Oooooh! And a little bacon on the side. Not too crispy, not too flop-
His mouth watered, and Peter blinked. Wiping his jacket sleeve across his lips, he redirected his attention to the task at hand. Focus, Quickie. He had a job to do, and he didn’t wanna be stuck doing said job all night.
The lab sat nestled off the coast of some island with a foreign name. Super hard to pronounce. Peter couldn’t remember it off the top of his head. Prior to this assignment, he’d never even heard of the place. But apparently, neither had anyone else. Hank sent Peter in search of what he dubbed leads on a mystery project. Something to do with scientific documents.
If he found any, he’d read their info over to Scott. Who would then relay that same intel back to Hank. Like an insanely boring game of telephone. Why Peter couldn’t speak to Hank directly was anybody’s guess. Too busy with his super secret project thingy-majig, possibly?
Hanging from Peter’s stereo belt alongside his old Walkman, a walkie screeched with a shrill chirp. A shock of alarm shot straight through Peter’s veins, making him jump. Scott’s voice crackled from the speakers.
“Any updates, Pete?” Scott asked, “Tell me anything you got. Even if it seems boring. Just hit me with it. It’s gotta be better than waiting around here in the lab, doing nothing.”
Peter held a compact flashlight in one hand, searching the lab’s pitch black halls. Most of the rooms he passed looked desolate. Barren and dusty. Save for the odd desk or empty cabinet. Peter wondered if they’d all been ransacked when the place closed down. The ceiling leaked rain from the floors above, dripping onto Peter’s bomber jacket. At the edge of his vision, he caught a rat scurrying by. But otherwise, not much else.
Pulling the walkie from his belt, he brought it up to his lips, “Uh. It’s dark and kinda spooky here. Saw a rat. Storm’s not gettin’ any better. It keeps shakin’ the whole place.” Peter shook his head, “If it doesn’t let up, I’m gonna have to split. Don’t wanna wait around to see what happens next, y’know? Over."
On the other end of the line, Scott breathed an annoyed sigh. Even through low-quality speaker fuzz, Peter could tell the sigh lacked any real spite.
“Peter. We’ve been over this. We aren’t using decades old, two-way radio communication. You really don’t have to say over. ”
Peter drummed his free hand on an empty desk. Following the beat of Sweet Poison by Naked Eyes, as it played from the only earbud he wore. He wanted to keep one ear open, just to hear Scott clearly. And mayhaps because he felt the teensy weensiest bit paranoid by his lonesome in the lab.
“Copy that. Over.” He grinned to himself.
The further Peter explored the lab’s halls, thick layers of mucky green seemed to take over. If he had to guess, he assumed Hank didn’t consider masses of moss “key intel.” Every few feet Peter stepped, he tore his way through another wall of cobwebs. Lots and lots of creepy cobwebs. Reduced to undying boredom, Peter took to karate chopping them. Might as well have fun in the face of ennui.
Half second flickers of lightning cast the lab in gleaming flashes. Bringing Peter’s attention to more rooms he missed. He wandered through some old offices. Or what he thought were offices, anyway. The trashed state of the rooms made it hard to tell. Nothing within them had withstood the test of time. Peter even tried poking around with some clunky computers. No luck. Dead as doornails.
“Found some computers. C64’s, I think. Haven’t seen one ‘a these bad boys since forever ago. But they’re totally busted.” Peter reported into the walkie, banging a fist onto one of the computers, “Yep. Busted. Over.”
Before leaving the room, Peter fucked around. Knocking over a computer monitor for no reason at all. He snatched a few, grubby pens from a lone desk. As well as a cracked coffee mug that read “I try to tell chemistry jokes, but there’s no reaction.” Just for the heck of it. Why not swipe some keepsakes, eh?
After what felt like a geological age of scouring, Peter eventually stumbled upon more filing cabinets. Stuffed to the brim with research documents and science-y records. Sighing, he pulled each drawer open one by one. Peter read the dusty files, sharing intel with Scott over the walkie. For every document Scott dismissed, Peter tossed them carelessly aside over his shoulder.
Antsy to wrap the mission up, grab some pancakes, and race home for a game of GoldenEye; Peter rushed through the last few folders. In hopes of finding whatever specific file Hank needed. But upon the last one, Scott broke some totally bogus news.
“Sorry about this.” Scott sighed, “Those files? Yeah. Hank says they’re all duds. No dice. You think it’s safe to keep looking? You might have to check the second floor.” He mentioned, to Peter’s dismay.
Peter bumped his head into the filing cabinet, groaning aloud. With a kick of his foot, he closed the last drawer and trudged onward. Oh well. The speedster could totally manage. At least he brought mix-tapes to keep his mind occupied. Along with extra tapes stashed in his belt pockets for good measure. Without music, he’d be so outrageously miserable on a mission like this.
Shining the dinky flashlight, he scanned the first floor area one more time. Just to be sure. The flashlight’s glow passed a set of double doors, leading to-
Wait. Back it up a sec. Double doors? Quietly singing New Order’s Blue Monday to himself, Peter moonwalked backwards to observe the doors again. Knitting his brows, he blinked. Stumped.
“Yo. Scotty. Got another room on the first floor. Gonna check it out real quick. Over.” Peter reported, clicking the walkie into place on his belt.
Another echo of thunder rattled through the lab, shaking the floors above. Lightning illuminated the halls in temporary flickers of white. Peter stared at the large set of doors, totally bamboozled. He couldn’t comprehend how he missed them before. When he knew for a fact he checked every nook and cranny. Inching closer, he eyed a sign pasted on one of the doors. In a rough scratch of permanent marker, the sign read:
Reanimation experiments in progress. Do not disturb!!
Reanimation? What, like…of the dead? Pfffbt. No way! Could this spooky place get any spookier? Peter swallowed an uncomfortable wedge in his throat. Shaking off any chills threatening to overtake him, he shined his flashlight through one of the door’s windows. Peter scanned the area for anything useful.
Inside, he clocked an operating table. Close to that, a lone cart cluttered with rusty, surgical tools. Cracked computer screens lined one of the walls, more advanced than they should’ve been. At least for the era they originated. Tangled cables ran along the floor, leading to something in the shadows. Peter couldn’t make it out.
He arched a brow, finally locking his sights on - Aha! Jackpot! More filing cabinets. Hopefully, they held his ticket out of this creepy place. Fingers crossed. Peter burst into the room in a flash, kicking up dust in his wake. Tearing through another wall of cobwebs, he surveyed the area again. Making a mental note of every cabinet he could see. Enough to keep him busy for the next hour, he guessed. Peter slumped his shoulders, huffing an aggravated groan.
Talking to Scott through the entire process made it more bearable. Being so no nonsense and straight forward, Scott had no problem retaining the info Peter shared from every file. Which saved the speedster any hassle of repeating himself, or having to explain things he didn’t understand. Science? Not really Peter's area of expertise. He thought himself more of a tech, or music guy.
Luckily enough, Peter found whatever documents Hank sent him after. A deep dive into every folder, in every drawer, in about a dozen different cabinets were all it took. Had Peter aged another thirty years? He sure as hell felt like it. No sweat! Mission accomplished. Time to bid the old lab goodbye.
Peter flew through the rest of the cabinets in less than a second’s time. Triple checking for any intel Hank might find compelling. He skimmed some records documenting the “reanimation of dead tissue.” Hm. Actually, blue beastie might potentially find that fascinating. “Reanimation” of the dead didn’t exactly sound too commonplace in modern science, did it?
In a folder, Peter discovered a file. Clipped with a photograph of - hellllllllooooo there! Someone…kinda cute. Very cute. Peter whistled, piercing the quiet thrum of distant rain. He read on.
Oh. The cute someone. They died. Tragically perished. Hit by a car back in the 80’s. What a bummer. One of the scientist's brought them to the lab as a test subject. Used for some twisted experiment in reanimation. The kicker? They proved to be the lab’s first and only successful trial run. Of around fifty different, reanimation trials. Yikes. That's...a lotta dead bodies.
These scientists successfully revived the dead? Peter doubted it. Over a decade had passed since then, and no one ever used the technology mentioned in the files. This lab's research couldn’t be as successful as they documented. Or something must've gone wrong, for them to give up and shut down the lab's operation completely.
Yeah. Treating human corpses like science fair projects for school? Super warped. Hank, wacky in his science ventures, totally found macabre shit like that interesting. Shrugging, Peter tucked the manilla folders he gathered under an arm. He grabbed his walkie, and reported to Scott.
“I got somethin’ else Hank might be into. It's totally messed up, he'll love it. But-uh…if that’s all he needed? I’m gonna jet now, ‘kay? I can’t take another minute in this scary ass place. Over and out.”
Before making his leave, Peter glanced around the room one last time. He appeared near the operating table in a picosecond, his brown eyes scanning the cart next to it. Curiously, Peter picked through some rusty, surgical tools.
Upon finding a scalpel in fairly okay condition, he swiped the tool and slipped it inside his back pocket. Whistling to Oingo Boingo's No One Lives Forever - in hindsight, kind of ironic - playing from his Walkman, Peter raised a foot to kick the cart. Watching it roll away into a nearby wall. Hasta la vista.
As Peter steered away from the operating table, a monstrous shadow loomed at the edge of his vision. His heart rampantly pounded in his chest, his senses still high strung. Jumping back with a terrified gasp, Peter climbed halfway onto the operating table. He fumbled for his flashlight, pointing the glow at the massive bundle of darkness. The light shook in Peter’s trembling hand.
But it-...oh. Phew! Nothing to be afraid of. Hah. What the heck was Peter gettin’ riled up for?
Like something straight out of science fiction, Peter’s shadowy monster proved nothing more than a giant pod. He squinted, moving towards it until close enough to observe it more clearly. The tech appeared big enough to hold a person of his size. Or, hell, maybe even someone of Beast’s size. Peter ran a hand along the surface of the pod, gathering a layer of dust on his fingertips. Scowling, he shuddered, wiping the dust on his jeans.
“ EUGH! Eck-” Peter exclaimed to no one, “What’s up with this dusty, old thing??”
Glass encased the outer layer of the large machine. It might've been see-through, if not for the unsanitary grime blanketing the entire thing. Years upon years of soot build up. Peter tried wiping the dust away with his elbow, to no avail. He couldn’t see inside, even with the aid of his flashlight.
Puzzled, Peter darted around the room in a silver blur, searching for clues. A switch of some kind? A secret code? He tampered with everything from the cracked monitors on the wall, to the colorful cables lining the floor. Peter even tried prying the pod open with a rusty hammer he found. Still, it refused to budge. Even with the power of speedster strength. Was it made of adamantium or something?
Sighing, defeated, Peter tossed the hammer away. It crashed into one of the screens hanging against the wall. Shattering the crystal display upon impact. Whoops. Oh well. How much more damage could be done to the place? Not like anyone would be making renovations anytime soon. Not in the middle of buttfuck nowhere island.
Making an accidental misstep, Peter slipped on his untied shoelaces. His ankle entangled itself in a circle of cables on the floor, and he lost his balance. Tripping, Peter stumbled backwards into some busted machinery, knocking his head. His back collided with the hard, metal surface behind him.
“ Auuugh. Shit.” Peter muttered. He didn’t understand how he could be so goddamn clumsy all the time, given - what the professor called - his mutant gift, “Ow. Dammit.”
He must have triggered a switch when he tripped. Suddenly, a loud hiss seethed through the air like a bus braking to a stop. A slow moving cloud of smoke rose from inside the pod. As it spread, filling the room, the fumes turned radioactive neon in color. It swarmed Peter’s nostrils, overflowing his senses with an earthy scent.
“Uhhh…uh oh.” He mumbled, “Is that supposed to happen?” Acting in haste, Peter scrambled to free his ankle from the cable’s tight grip.
A corpse reanimation research lab.
Nope. Noooope. He’d seen Return of the Living Dead enough times to know - whatever the hell’s happening now? Bad news. Couldn’t be good. Peter suppressed the urge to scream like a frightened child. A buzzing voice chimed from his walkie, startling him further. Dammit all, Scotty! He almost sent Peter into cardiac arrest for a hot second.
“Peter? Hey-uh, are you there? You alright? You didn’t stop somewhere for pancakes again, did you?” Scott crackled through the walkie, but Peter didn’t respond, “Better bring enough back for the whole class.” He joked, sarcastic.
Peter gawked at the sight before him in a mix of horror and confusion. Completely petrified, as Oingo Boingo played through his ear. The neon smoke emitted from the pod began to clear, revealing a body inside. A dead body.
Your dead body, to be specific.
Somehow, Peter recognized you. But that didn’t make any sense at all. He knew for a freakin’ fact he’d never seen or met you a day in his life. Unless… oh. Oh, holy shit. He hurriedly grabbed the extra folder he’d taken and opened it, just to glance between you, and the photo inside. And sure enough…
The first and only successful trial run in reanimation.
Oh. Oh no. Oh no, oh no, oh no. Peter’s eyes blew open wide. His stomach dropped twenty thousand feet through the ground, plummeting to the Earth’s core. Swallowing thickly, he observed your slumbering body from his position on the dirty floor.
Your skin appeared ashier than it naturally should be. Y’know, on account of being dead and all. It more closely resembled a subdued, greenish color. Kinda Frankenstein-esc. Stitches lined each and every one of your limbs. As if some psycho nut job took you apart and sewed you back together again. Judging by the info in your file, they probably did. Embedded into your neck, were two bolts on either side. Also very Frankenstein-esc. You reminded him of a wax dummy on the set of some low-budget, horror flick. It’d be kinda funny, if he didn’t feel seconds away from screaming in horror.
You could be a dummy, if Peter had any luck. Yeah. This mission? Surely just a super elaborate prank set up by the team. Like a haunted house tour, made to scare the silver pants off him. Those sly dogs think they’re so slick, huh? ...R-Right?
Peter took a deep breath, keeping his terrified gaze fixed on you. In his ear, the funky tune came to an end. The lab fell into a deafening silence. Only broken by the faintest pitter patter of rain, and a quiet clamor of thunder now echoing at a distance. Signaling the passing of the storm. One less thing to worry about.
Though, he’d much rather agonize over a building’s foundation crumbling. He could handle a weather-related disaster wayyy better than a zombie coming to life, to - potentially - gorge on his flesh.
Raising his flashlight, he pointed the glow at your lifeless body. Again, Peter breathed a long sigh to ease his panic stricken nerves. An interference of crackling static ripped through the walkie then. Loud, and shrill enough to cut glass. At that very moment, your eyes - once locked in eternal slumber - popped open freakishly wide.
Oh. Oh hellllll no. Fuck that. Fuuuuck that.
Peter’s hunch proved totally right. You weren’t just dead. You were undead.
“ Mmmmmm nope.” Peter mumbled to himself, swiftly shaking his head, “Nuh uh. Nope.”
Shaking with adrenaline, he glanced between your dead-eyed gaze, and his trapped foot. Okay! No problem-o! Not a problem at all. For an X-Man, zombies made an easy foe, right? Peter could totally just-...
Just vamoose! Make a break for it! Right now!
Like, now.
Peter hadn’t run away yet. Why hadn’t he run away? Hellllloooo? Ground control to Quickie! Time to make a quick exit, and head for the hills. Lest he become zombie chow.
Stunned, Peter remained petrified. In an uncannily slow movement, you rose from the pod like Nosferatu out of a coffin. Peter cursed under his breath, willing his terror to take a one way ticket outta there. He needed to come to his senses, and fast. Even as Peter tried to move, his paralyzed state caused him to fumble again. His movements lacked their natural fluidity, and his blood ran cold.
Like a total doofus, in his failed attempt to escape, Peter tangled his foot even deeper through the cables. Sometime in the last thirty seconds or so, he dropped his flashlight. Within the inky darkness, he could barely make out your shape as you moved. You groaned a long, croaky sound. Guttural, like an eldritch abomination.
Another crash of lightning showered your living corpse in a white luster. Peter made direct eye contact with you. A gaze between life and death.
A yell vibrated through his lungs and bounced off the walls of the room, as Peter finally screamed. Your slow moving, zombified body climbed from the pod much like a spider. Stumbling at first, you connected your bare feet with the dirty, tiled floor. Once you found your balance, a cracking sound erupted from your limbs. Your bones clicked and popped audibly into place. Peter scowled, physically cringing.
Another scream tore from the depths of his chest, “SHIT! SHIT! SHIT! SHIT! SHIT!” He shouted.
You dragged your feet in a limp, moving towards Peter with a slow gait. Stitched arms reached out for him in an unhurried motion, “ Luhhhhhhhh- ” You choked on a groggy gurgle.
Fuck. Fucking shit fuck. You definitely wanted to feast on his juicy brains and smooth flesh. No denying that. It had been, like, a decade since you last ate anything. And Peter probably looked like one hell of a snack right about now. Not even in a totally kinky way.
“WOAH, WOAH, WOAH! Hold yer horses there, baby! Yer gettin’ a liiiitttle too close fer comfort now! C’mon, huh? Do you really think I’m on the menu? ‘Cuz trust me. If yer gonna eat somebody? I shouldn’t be yer first choice! I really don’t taste all that great!” Peter yelled, throwing a hand out momentarily before returning to the tangled cables. He huffed an uneasy laugh, “SHIT! Yer not listening, are you? Ahaha! Yer gonna eat me. Totally gonna eat me. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck-”
Peter tore at the cables wrapped around his foot. Acting as quickly as his petrified state would allow, he pulled the scalpel from his back pocket. But the dull razor’s edge refused to cut through the wires. Dropping the useless tool, he ripped into the cables one more time using all his strength. Only to free himself a millisecond too late. Always late. You lurched forward, making grabby hands.
Quicksilver vs. an actual, real life zombie. If he made it out alive, that’d make one helluva story.
But-
Wait a damn minute. Hold the freakin’ phone. Why were you…looking at him like that?
The glazed over eyes of a living corpse opened up, all big and doe-like. Gazing at Peter in - no mistaking it - infatuated fondness. Your supple lips parted with a wide smile of pure delight. Like sunshine peeking through hazardous, storm clouds. You leapt forward unexpectedly, squeaking a raspy squeal. Burrowing your face into the warmth of Peter’s chest, you linked your arms around his neck. Holding onto him tight.
“What the-” He whispered, looking down at your messy head of hair.
Uh. Okay. So, that just happened. Weird. Why weren’t you feasting on his flesh? Wasn’t he supposed to be your first meal since zombie hibernation, or something? Didn’t you wanna go chomp chomp chomp, and turn his guts into mush?
Peter realized, looking at you up close, you appeared perfectly clean and preserved. You didn’t reek like a dead body. The earthy scent on your cold skin wasn’t too unpleasant either. It smelled herbal. Floral, even. Your smooth skin lacked any signs of rot. Aside from one or two lesions revealing rib or arm bones. Kinda...freakishly cool. The surface of your skin looked see-through, with veins weaving underneath like intricate wiring.
A little spooky, sure. But not all that scary to look at, surprisingly enough. Not like Peter expected, anyway. As you snuggled closer into Peter’s body, he began to realize how oddly affectionate you were. Very out of character, for a zombie. You squeaked an unintelligible noise, attempting to communicate. But you just couldn’t form the words. Maybe your speech capabilities fizzled out after years and years of unending silence.
Peter creased his brows, lowering his defenses and calming himself down. Another thirty seconds passed. His brains remained intact, and you hadn’t made him your next meal. He pulled the earbud from his ear, hooking them around his neck and pressing pause on the Walkman. Craning your neck back, your glassy eyes met Peter’s own. You grinned so big and joyful, gleaming the innocence of a pure-of-heart, golden retriever. Despite being totally bizarre, Peter found your sweetness...sorta...weirdly cute.
“Uhmmm…hi? Hey. Uh-why’re you lookin’ at me like that?” He laughed, a little uneasy.
Maybe your affection stemmed from something simple. If Peter were locked up in a cramped pod for so many years, he’d be ecstatic if someone finally freed him. You were probably just uber thankful he’d broken you outta that pod thingy. And you showed gratitude through touching, since you couldn’t exactly flurry him with thank yous. He could accept that. Sure. For now.
The walkie hanging from his belt droned a buzz, and Scott’s voice called out. Peter finally reached for it, maneuvering between his body and yours. Your arms stayed around his neck, your body hanging like a stubborn monkey’s from a tree.
“Peter? Do you copy? Peter, are you there, man? Talk to us. Please. Should we send someone over to assist?” Scott asked, his voice itching with alarm.
“Yeah! Yeah, nah. Uh-hey, Scotty! Hey, I’m here. I’m oka-...dude, it’s fine. Nothin’ to worry about. Seriously. But…I do kinda have a situation here? Over.” Peter replied.
Scott exhaled a relieved sigh on the other end of the line. In the crackling background of the walkie, Peter heard Jean’s voice. She asked, “Did he say over ?” Followed by a series of hushed chuckles. Peter smirked to himself.
“Oh! Oh my god. Thank goodness, Pete. We were all getting pretty worried about you over here. What’s going on? Are you still at the lab? You said there was a situation. What kind of situation? Did that old place finally cave in?” Scott asked. Many, many questions.
Peter heard even more frantic, muffled conversations in the background. While he couldn’t understand them, he recognized the voices. The entire team had gathered, just to make sure he made it out alive. Awww. How sweet. They were worried about lil ol’ him? If Peter hadn’t had the bejesus scared out of him not even five minutes ago, his heart would’ve melted.
“Heyyyy, guys! Uhhhh…soooo…I might’ve found, like, a zombie? No joke. Like, a real zombie. But it’s not tryna kill me. It’s-” Peter paused, raising a brow. You fluttered your lashes, giving him a coquettish look, “Bro, I think it’s makin’ eyes at me. Legit. Kinda weird, right? Definitely not what I was expecting. But it’s totally fine. I got it all under control now. Over.”
A long silence fell amongst the walkie’s noise. Until Scott finally responded in monotone.
“Did we hear you wrong, or did you just say you found a zombie?” He asked, his tone carrying a hint of disbelief. As if expecting Peter to say - Psych! Fooled ya!
Peter parted his lips to confirm. But the abrupt tickle of a chilly kiss on his neck silenced him. You stood up on your bare toes, giggling sweetly. Across his hot skin, you peppered your chapped lips. Instantly, Peter froze in place again. Shudders rang through his body. He reached for one of your arms, tugging you to try and pull you off him.
“Uhm. Y’know what? It’s no big deal. B-But yeah, it’s a zombie fer sure.” Peter tugged your arm with more insistence, urging you to let go. But you persisted, giggling into the crook of his neck, “Like I said. No worries here. It’s not like I’m in da- haaah okayokayokay-”
Your feather light kisses became soft, kitten licks. Flicking Peter’s flesh with your slimy tongue, you squealed, tickled pink. Peter jolted, shivers sizzling down his spine. He tilted his neck to the side, wincing. Over the walkie, he heard Hank’s gruff voice.
“Peter! It’s Hank-” The blue beast said, as if Peter couldn’t already tell based on his growly tone, “Are you a hundred percent sure the undead creature isn’t dangerous?” He asked, buzzing through a scratch of interference.
Coldness slathered and swirled Peter’s neck in slow circles. Fluttering his eyes closed, he replied, “N-Not dangerous. Ohhhh. Definitely not dangerous. No danger here. All good. Over.” Again, he tried to pull you off.
Your discolored arms tightened their hold around his neck and over his shoulders. Cooing noises dripped from your tongue like honey, so sugary sweet. You swiped his skin with your tongue, nuzzling your cold nose into the heated crevice of his neck. Pressing your body closer into his, you squirmed, littering him with zombie kisses.
Peter tensed, apprehensive of your affections. He didn’t want to be too harsh or aggressive towards you. Worried that any sign of conflict might make you snap. For all he knew, you might go bonkers and brain hungry. Really, he should’ve gotten it over with and pushed you away. Before you took things a little too far.
And you did. Your teeth sank into his neck, lightly nibbling his flesh. As you pressed yourself even closer into his proximity, your breasts - covered only by a ragged crop top - met the swell of his broad chest. WOOOOOAH! Talk about twisted! Sure, okay, maybe your bites turned him on, like, a little. Flooding his body with a pleasant, all-over shudder of pleasure. But he couldn’t just fold for a zombie, could he? That’d be disgusting!
It’d be gross, right?
A subconscious desire in the recesses of his lonesome mind told him he wanted - no, needed - the attention. He hadn’t been intimate with anyone like this since the pogs fad. Easy, now, Peter! Down, boy.
But…shit. As much as he wanted to give in, he couldn’t. Not for a monster. A living corpse, left cooking in a secluded pod for a decade. Cloaked in discoloration and held together by expertly crafted stitching. Not entirely mindless, but so dense, you hadn’t the forethought to ask - “What happened? Where am I? Who are you?” No. Instead, you went after him the moment you saw him, showering him in bubbly, zombie lovin’.
He…shouldn’t find that hot. His fingers shouldn’t be tightening around the walkie, and his groin shouldn’t feel as scorching as it does. Oh, man. Could Peter be any more doomed? He’d have to be mad desperate - way out of his mind - to reciprocate your affection. Raising the walkie again, he cleared his throat.
“Hiya, Beastie. A-Acutally, I think they-...the zombie really, really likes me.” Peter added for no reason at all. You nibbled him a little harder, and he winced again.
“Well, now! That’s good then, isn’t it? Better than the alternative, I’d say! If at all possible, Peter, you should bring the creature with you. I’d like to look it over. Maybe run some tests. Figure out what brought it to life! This could be the secret to reversing brain death!” Hank chimed, excited.
Peter rolled his eyes. Of course Hank wanted to poke and prod at you like some little, lab rat. He opened his mouth to respond, but choked before he could get a word in. Your dull teeth clamped roughly into his neck. Peter braced a free hand on your hip, his thumb digging into the cool, exposed flesh there. Now, suspicion began to dawn on him.
You could be a clever, little zombie. Capable of luring Peter in with flirtatious wiles and sweet touches. Once he let his guard down, what if you planned on tearing into his guts? Well played, smarty pants zombie. Well played. But Peter caught onto your little game. You couldn’t get anything past him.
Instead of slurping his blood like a 7-Eleven slushie, or ripping your nails into his taut muscles; you suckled his skin lovingly. Pulling tiny hickies into his neck. Squealing and giggling in that girlish fashion, playful with every nibble. Peter gulped, biting his lip between his teeth. No way in hell he allowed a zombie to give him hickies.
…Except he did. So what? No harm in it, right?
“Y-Yeah. Sure. I’m good. Great. Just hangin’ out with my new zombie buddy. It’s totally not gonna eat my brains. Like, zero percent chance I’m gonna die an ugly, zombie death. So, y’know, Beastie, don’t lose any sleep over it.” Peter responded, before following it up with a condescending, “Over.”
On the walkie line, Peter heard a series of groans and faint giggles. Followed by Hank’s voice, as he passed the walkie back to Scott. The X-Men’s laser eyed leader sighed, his tone unamused.
“Whatever, Peter. Just…just hurry up, will you? And bring those documents over for Hank. Thanks.”
Peter tried, and failed to keep his composure. A cutie pie zombie kept macking on him like a lovesick puppy, and he had no clue what to make of it. You sucked more sloppy, violet marks into his neck. Tugging his skin with your teeth and nibbling like you couldn’t get enough of him. Peter’s skin flared up in cold creeps, as you trailed your chilly lips to his shoulder. Pulling his jacket and the collar of his shirt aside, you spoiled him in more undead affection.
“Gotcha. Copy that. Ov- mmm -” Peter whispered a moan, replying with a rushed, “Overandout.”
He clipped the walkie back onto his belt. Attempting once more to pry you off him, Peter gave your arm a strong tug. A little more forceful this time around. As you finally dislodged yourself from his neck, Peter took a few steps back. Avoiding any stray cables on the floor.
Now, with some distance between the two of you, he cleared his throat. Peter brought a hand to his neck, grazing fingers over the love bites you left behind. Tiny splotches of purple pooled with offsets of scarlet. Faint teeth marks left grooves in his skin. He hissed.
Giving you the freedom to pepper him with hickies might not have been the smartest idea. Hopefully, you didn’t infect him with some sick, zombie disease. One with the potential to end humanity as he knew it. He couldn’t cope with the weight of that responsibility on his shoulders.
You gawked up at him with those big, adoring eyes. Excitedly, you squealed, hopping towards him with your eager arms outstretched. Hoping to pull Peter into another close hug, just so you could litter him in more nibbly, love bites. He raised an abrupt hand, maintaining distance. Peter cleared his throat again. His cheeks burned hot, doused in bright pink.
Totally not fair, the way an overly affectionate zombie got him blushing.
“L-Listen. Uh. Yer sweet, but-” Peter started. Subconsciously, his gaze drifted down your body. He observed the stitches sewn into your neck and limbs. His dark chocolate eyes followed the rips and tears in your skimpy shirt. The flimsy garment revealed a tiny peek of your - admittedly pretty - breasts. And Peter swallowed, his throat running dry, “Uhhh…you can’t keep doin’ this, okay? The-” He wiggled his long fingers, gesturing to his neck, “The hickie thing. If yer gonna come with me, we gotta lay down some ground rules. Alright? You get me, babe?”
You tilted your head to the side, blinking slowly. Gazing at Peter with a look that told him you didn’t understand. But you didn’t seem to give a shit either way. You reached for one of his hands, a dazzled smile curling into your lips. Purring a candied noise of affection, you brought his hand to your cheek and nuzzled his palm. Your lips gently kissed each fingertip. Peter pulled a face, knitting his silver brows.
“Why’re you so damn-” He shook his head, “Whatever. Listen. Can you, like, chill out? No biting, you understand?” Peter paused to make a chomping gesture, clicking his teeth. But this only made you giggle. Which, unfortunately, he found super infectious.
Peter chuckled, scoffing playfully, “Stop that! I’m totally serious! No biting. No licking. No kissing. Like this. You see this?” He gestured to the hickies on his neck, their trail leading under his shirt, “No more ‘a that, you feel me? I dunno how I’m gonna explain this to the crew back home. They’re gonna think we got, like, freaky ‘er somethin’. Yeah. Can you imagine that? Like I’d ever fool around with-”
Fluttering your off colored lashes, you tilted your head to the other side. You parted your chapped lips, squealing as you edged his fingertips into your mouth. Pressing the salty pads to your bitter tongue.
“Oh! EUCK! Gross! Don’t-” Peter scowled, jerking his hand from you in less than a millisecond. With a horrified look, he observed his fingers as if they were germ-infested specimens, “Yer a real weird one, babe.”
His guard fell. While Peter kept his perplexed eyes on his fingers, you leapt forward. Burying your face deep into the fabric of his shirt, you squealed. Gleeful and bubbly. Peter groaned, only half-annoyed. He made a move to push you off him again. But your precious, little purring noises changed his mind. Peter couldn’t find it in himself to put his foot down.
Turns out he had a weakness. Cute, overly affectionate zombies. Who woulda thought?
Whatever. Peter had wayyy more important things on his plate. He knew he should gather up those folders he dropped, along with anything else he lost during his freak out session. Once he did, he needed to get the two of you out of this dingy, old lab asap.
“ Mmmmm …n-need…” You hummed your first word, before squealing, “Loooooove~!” Your voice strained, rattling like you’d been pounding down cigarettes by the plenty.
Peter’s eyes widened, and he let his sizeable hands fall to your hips, “Di-...wait a sec, did you just talk? Holy shit! You can talk?” Peter asked, dumbfounded, “Woah! Wow. Uh…so…you got a name? Can you at least tell me yer name?”
Your case file hadn’t listed your name, leaving you reduced to a number. Pretty messed up, if anyone were to ask Peter. Either you still didn’t understand him, or you couldn’t remember your own name. Instead of giving him an answer, you nuzzled your face in his chest. You tittered, so soft and smitten, your ragged voice muffled by the fabric of his shirt. Cold, tiny zombie hands tickled the back of his neck, raking gentle nails down his torso.
Standing on your toes, you connected your cool lips with his neck all over again. You kissed your previous love bites, as if doing so would heal them entirely. Ashamed of himself for letting it happen, Peter stifled a groan.
"Y-...You don't remember yer name, do you?" He mumbled. Peter's strong arms wrapped around your back, pulling you in, "That is...a seriously messed up situation. But, hey, I'm here fer you. Don't worry, 'kay? We'll get you to a safe place, and you can start over there. Sound good?" His caring nature shined through. But male horniness abruptly overshadowed it, as your wet tongue tickled his skin.
A guilty part of him, overrun with sympathy, felt bad for you. Those scientists hadn’t treated you like the victim of an unfortunate accident. More like a toy. Meant to be ripped apart, played with, and abandoned. It seemed wrong to perceive you in a frisky light. But then again…you wanted love. You may as well have been begging for it.
Love. One of the first words you spoke since your undead coma. Not that much of a surprise, if he thought about it. As a science experiment, loneliness probably consumed you. Even before your decade-long slumber. In a way, Peter understood. He too felt haunted by a longing for affection for far, far too long. In his mind, that made the two of you kindred spirits.
Ahhhh …dammit. Peter just couldn’t resist you and your sweet wiles anymore. His self control steadily slipped from his weakened grasp.
“ Mmmmm! Wa-....waaaant…love~! Neeeed… mmm …lo-....love~!” You squeaked, your cold tongue curling over a fresh, purple mark.
“C’mon, baby. We can’t-...you really have to stop this. We gotta head back to base, like, now. Everyone’s waitin’ on me, and I-” Peter muttered, and you pulled back. Gazing at him with that mystified, doe eyed look. Like you saw the beauty of the cosmos in him, and him alone. Your lips sparkled, wet from your lovin’. Peter clutched your hips firmly. His jeans seemed...somehow tighter all of a sudden, “Would ya stop lookin’ at me like that?”
���Looooooove~?” You cooed, your voice taking on a lustrous, but groggy tone.
“Yeah. I know. But…” Peter sighed, letting his hands feel up and down your curvy sides, “Yer gonna get me in soooo much trouble. But, fine. You win, okay? What kinda love are we talkin’ 'bout here, babe? You wanna hug? Want me to-uhm…to plant one on you? Is that it?”
You perked up then. Peter took it as a sign you understood him, more than you let on before. He arched a brow. At this point, why even hold back? Because you were dead? So what! Who ever said zombies couldn’t be smokin’ hot?
If he messed around with you just a little, no one would ever know. Which…made the concept even more enticing. You could be his little secret. An affectionate secret he’d forever bury in the ground. In place of the grave those scientists never gave you.
Peter fluttered his eyes closed, finally giving in to your closeness entirely. Lowering his big hands, he grabbed your ass. His palms squeezed over the torn, booty shorts you wore. Never did he imagine - upon exploring some horror movie, science lab - he’d feel up a cutie pie corpse’s plump bottom by the end. What a way to end a mission. Life worked in some wildly bizarre ways sometimes.
Kissing a zombie? Not as gross as he thought it’d be.
Okay. Maybe for, like, half a second. But the earthy taste on Peter’s lips didn’t faze him much. Once he pushed past the initial ick, he embraced you fully. Peter decided he didn’t give a flying fuck how unsanitary zombie smooches might be. Uncoordinated lip motions lured him in further. Pinkish teeth grazing his bottom lip between kisses. Soon enough, they turned sloppy, and Peter found himself frenching the living dead.
Zombie make out session. An experience he hadn’t planned to check off his bucket list. But now, he could.
One of his hands gripped your ass. While his other held your face and pulled you in for more tongue action. In the midst of swapping spit, you sought every opportune moment to nibble him. Peter couldn’t help but be super into it. You mewled softly, giggling when he gave your booty a hard squeeze. Chuckling, he parted from your lips to look over your greenish face. Your eyes bulged so big and wide, pupils an off-grey color and impossibly huge. Wonderstruck by his very existence.
Darting down to capture your lips again, Peter stumbled forward. He guided your body towards the operating table, knocking you into it. Your hips collided with the edge, causing a loud, vibrating clang. The rough motion worried him enough, he stopped sucking face just to confirm you were alright. Peter feverishly kissed your cold lips, his hands exploring your body. Feeling stitched skin under his fingers.
You pulled from him with a joyous squeal, but Peter followed. Confused as to why you stopped, until you dove for the untarnished side of his neck. Dull flats of your teeth chomped straight into his flesh, grinding a little too roughly for comfort. Peter winced with a start, ceasing his love on your bootylicious bottom.
“N-No! Noooo! Hey, baby, look at me.” Peter snapped his fingers to get your attention. Not that he wanted to be so demanding. But you needed to understand his boundaries, before you tore into his flesh and guzzled his blood. Instantly, you reacted, retracting your teeth from his neck. You moved to make eye contact, and Peter fixed you with a soft gaze, “What’d I tell you, huh? Look, it’s not that I can’t appreciate some neckin’. 'Cuz I totally can. And I really dig it. Like, a lot. But you can’t be munchin’ on me! Really freaks me out when you do that.”
You angled your head again, curious. Doe eyes gaped at him with fluttering lashes, innocently confused, “ Mmm. Giv-....Giiiiive…love?” You croaked, pawing at Peter’s chest over his shirt, acting so needy.
He couldn’t begin to understand what you meant, or what you imagined love to be in your head. Were you really so desperate to bite him? Or, were you asking for something else? Wanton, bedroom eyes dawned your pretty face. Plush, ashy lips parting. You pawed his chest again, your blunt nails scraping across his shirt. In your desperation to communicate your-uhm…needs, you jutted your hips forward into his jeans.
“L-L…Lo-” You started, throaty voice oozing innocence. Though, the look in your lidded eyes betrayed said innocence, “Loooooove. Need. P-Please?”
Peter’s eyes popped open, as realization dawned on him. Oh. You meant you needed-... Ah. He understood now. The unreasonably cute, living corpse he found - dormant in a pod for, like, a decade - wanted to bump uglies. Great. Awesome. What the hell was he supposed to do about that? Fulfill your unbridled desire? C’monnnn. Didn’t boning undead cuties come with any moral implications? If he took you to pound town, would that make him a necrophiliac? Peter really didn’t wanna be labeled a necrophiliac.
But hypothetically, what if he admitted his own desperation to himself? He always fumbled every time he tried to step up his game and woo the ladies. Not like he had any game to begin with. And tonight, there you were. Practically begging for him to take you. He should acknowledge the fact that, yeah - no matter how much he tried to pretend otherwise - he found you very hot. So, ludicrously hot. Zombie traits and all.
And regardless of how many times he second guessed himself - at the end of the day - his dick didn’t have any qualms about zombie hanky panky.
Peter’s hand traveled up, thumbs curiously tracing the rough lining of your neck stitches. Before toying with the rusted bolts an inch or two above. Testing if you could even feel it. You didn’t react, and Peter wondered if scientists used those bolts to revive you. Did they awaken you Frankenstein style, with sharp surges of electricity? Or did you come to life by other means? A glowing, reagent liquid, maybe?
Hesitating for a fraction of a second, Peter tugged the front of your loose top down. A pair of off-green, zombie melons jiggled freely. Stitches circled each breast, and Peter may or may not have thought they looked hot as fuck like that. Call him inhumane, but he really dug your whole monstrous babe aesthetic.
His hands kneaded the softest pair of undead knockers he ever felt, making you squirm under his touch. Peter grinned, pleased with every choked squeak leaping off your lips. He flitted his dark gaze up to your face, then back down to your breasts; back and forth, back and forth. Admiring the delicate expressions you made, your precious face scrunched in pleasure.
“Damn. Anyone ever tell you how pretty you are? ‘Specially like this.” Peter chuckled, pinching and twisting your perky nipples, “Bet those bad guys never did. Sucks fer them. Yer a total babe. And sooo fuckin’ cute. Makes me want you all fer myself.”
Sooooo…about your…cooch situation. Yeah. Uh…Peter might’ve been somewhat worried about that. Taking your condition into consideration, he felt himself overcome with hesitance. Fearful that your-uh…flower, so to speak, may have withered away after a decade of darkness.
What about diseases? The thought made Peter squeamish. Even though you appeared and smelled relatively clean, you still hadn’t showered in a long freakin’ time. Then again, protection existed. Not to mention, you were so, so needy and cute. Your body looked undeniably amazing, and felt so soft. Fuck it. With some reluctance, Peter willed himself to test the waters. For your sake, but also for his own. Just to make up for the years he spent wishing he could get laid again.
A win-win for you both.
Tugging your tiny shorts down your smooth thighs - finding a little struggle along the way, since the meat of your thighs proved an obstacle - Peter snuck his fingers under the hem of your worn panties. The millisecond before his fingers met the supple curtains of your pussy, he second guessed himself for the zillionth time. Peter’s subconscious doubt pestered him enough, he almost withdrew his hand completely.
But the precious whimper you made gave him enough encouragement to keep going. His thick digits cautiously braved forbidden, undead territory. Finding an overabundance of cool, silky wetness between your lips. Peter swallowed hard, knitting his brows as he scoured for your clit.
“Jesus, baby.” He muttered. Judging by your bubbly squeak of delight, Peter assumed he found what he’d been venturing for. Leaning slightly forward into your proximity, Peter circled your stiff, little nub, “You want it bad, don’t you?”
“G-...G-....Gooooood! Mo-....More? More!” You mewled, clenching fists into his shirt. Mindlessly, you canted your hips, seeking his crotch.
“Hey, it’s whatever you want, pretty.” He mused with a smirk, voice tender, “Relaaaax. I gotcha. I gotcha. ”
His fingers drew downwards, teasing for a beat before cruising into your silken entrance. Lush, deathly cold walls welcomed his digits in a loving hug. Beckoning Peter to sink them in deeper. You held his shirt like a lifeline, moaning an angelic, rattle of a noise. Pulling you closer into his warm body, Peter lowered his head to your shoulder. Thin strands of silver hair tickled your cheek. His thick fingers curled, hooking into a cushiony spot inside you. Your near-empty eyes saw hot flashes of light.
“L-LOOOVE~!” You whimpered through hitched cries.
“Mhm?” Peter laughed, impishly nibbling his lip, “Feel that lovin’? Feels good, doesn’t it, baby?”
Keeping you distracted for a temporary moment, Peter dotted your neck in warm kisses. Subtly easing his fingers in and out of your velvet pussy at a quicker pace. Your knees buckled, trembling the faster he moved. Until his motions became brutal. With a perfect curl, speedy digits rammed repeatedly into that spongy spot you loved. Your sugary sweet, unintelligible whines rose in volume, as your sticky, little, zombie cunt quivered.
You gnawed powerful bites as you came, your teeth digging into Peter’s neck. But this time, he allowed it. He forced himself to muscle through the pain, holding your shuddering body close, “ Shhhh. Shhh. It’s cool, baby. It’s - ahh - it’s cool. That's it.” He cooed with a careful tone, stroking the back of your head and threading fingers through your ragged hair.
Easing his fingers from your cunt, he double checked the digits, making sure nothing seemed off. Your release felt thicker and stickier than any living person’s, but didn’t have much of a scent. While usually he looooved to taste the aftermath of a total cutie’s orgasm, Peter opted not to. Sure, your wetness didn’t appear radioactive or hazardous. But the thought of guzzling zombie honey put him off a little bit.
“G-....Goood?” You ogled Peter with half-lidded, glassy eyes, your lips parting in an irresistible giggle.
Peter bit his tongue. Alright. Maybe he…could give it a shot. Just this once. Zombie love liquor couldn’t be deadly or anything, could it? Disease-ridden, maybe. But Peter knew a hyper-intelligent doctor who could whip up a cure for most ailments. Guess it didn’t matter anymore. By the time Peter second guessed himself yet again, he’d already sucked his fingers clean. A bitter thickness lingered on his taste buds. Peter salivated at the thought of drinking down more.
“ Mmmm … mhm …not bad.” He chuckled, lips humming around his fingers, "I'd go fer seconds." He added with a wink, making you laugh.
Yikes. If Hank only knew how reckless Peter acted in the presence of some zombified cutie. He’d lock him up in the infirmary and run a thousand tests on him. Just to make damn sure Peter hadn’t contracted anything lethal.
Politely pushing you off him, Peter turned his head. He double checked the perimeter for any signs of life, despite the lab being totally desolate. Hopefully Summers hadn’t sent anyone after him, since the speedster took way too long returning to base. Unbuttoning his jeans, he pulled his hard length from the fly. Almost immediately, you gasped in elation. Tickled squeals danced on your discolored tongue. Thick, and flushed a dark scarlet, Peter’s cock throbbed in his hand.
"I'm guessin' you like what you see?" He snickered, giving his dick a firm stroke, "I like what I'm seein' too...if you couldn't tell." Every word Peter said, every charming smile he gave, seemed to attract you considerably. Drawing more kittenish giggles from you.
With your freezing, zombie mitts, you ungracefully reached for him. Cold fingers squeezed his cock, stroking in a clumsy motion. Peter drew in a sharp breath, the cool sensation of your hands arousing his nerves. Even if your hand to gland combat lacked any skill, it felt damn awesome to be touched like this again. He stepped forward, his giant hands grabbing your hips. You played with him as much as your little, unbeating heart desired. Tugging his burning hardness with an overzealous grip.
You tried lowering yourself to the floor, your mouth falling open, tongue gliding over your lip. But Peter instinctively stopped you. His hands darted to your shoulders, pulling you into a standing position. He preferred if you didn’t take your biting addiction downstairs. Visitations of the oral variety were closed to any undead visitors. At least, for right now.
“Y’know, I don’t usually like goin’ all the way on the first date.” He spoke, fishing his wallet from the back pocket of his jeans, “Like, call me an old soul 'er whatever.” Peter worked quickly, pulling a condom out of his wallet. He slipped the latex over his length, “But I can make an exception. Just fer you, cutie. But this stays between us, yeah?”
You nodded, pushing yourself up onto the dusty, operating table. Peter cringed, curling his lip out of concern for you. This couldn’t be sanitary. Dragging his attention from the filth under your bottom, you parted your knees. With your body angled backwards, you pointed eagerly at your panty-clad pussy. Soaked and dripping under the thin fabric. Peter’s breath hitched.
“Looooooove~? M-Ma…make?” You cooed, scooting a little off the edge of the table. As if tempting him to give in and fuck you already, you wiggled your ass. Like a beautiful, monstrous display of stitches and postmortem skin. All for the speedster's taking.
"I-I mean-uh...sure. If you really want me to. What kinda guy would I be to turn you down?" He awkwardly joked, fighting his nerves.
Peter pushed a strong hand against your inner thigh. Warm on your deathly cold flesh. He pulled your thin panties to the side, teasing your glossy slit with the head of his cock. You whimpered, cute noises bubbling in the back of your throat. Edging you for a beat more, he slid the teary eyed tip over your clit. Before sinking his length through your walls. Inch by pulsating inch, he bottomed out in a flash, tip kissing your cervix.
“ Wohhhhh, fuck.” He groaned. A new kind of coolness enveloped his cock, plushy and soft. Hooking your stitched legs over Peter’s shoulders, you tilted your body. Inviting him to submerge as deeply as your tight cunt would allow, “Oh, baby…yer so-...ah, fuuuuck. ”
"G……..Goo-......Gooood~!" You whimpered, squeezing your eyes shut. Your strangled voice erupted in a mantra of lustful squeals.
By some act of divine intervention, Peter could feel the swollen, unyielding lusciousness of your pussy. Walls wringing his cock, like you wanted to suck him dry of everything he had. He swiftly rutted into your cunt, hard enough to make you bounce against the table. Peter’s sluggish eyes followed your breasts as they bobbed. Titties jiggling with such a soft, sexy whirl; He felt his cock twitch inside you.
Leaning down, Peter loomed over you, the rough fabrics of his clothes sliding along your bare skin. He kissed you tenderly, a little heedless. In the midst of fondling your precious, stitched breasts, Peter's hot palm curiously pressed against your chest. Feeling...nothing. No heartbeat, no blood flow. A little spooked, he refocused his attention. Playing with your bouncing, zombie titties again.
"Feels so-...you feel so good, holy fuck -" He moaned, his voice catching in his throat, "So pretty. L- ah ...love how tight you are." Playfully, Peter lost himself in the moment. He pulled a nipple between his teeth, suckling one of your Frankenstein tits, "Loooove these zombie boobies. Hah -oooohhh, shit-"
Lying in slumber for a decade must have left you majorly sensitive. In just a few more, aggressive, bunny humps; you came again. Hypnotic delight burst through your core, pushing you to the point of tears. Your pussy fluttered, sticky wetness gushing around his cock. Reaching up to link your arms around his neck, you clawed little etchings into his skin.
“M-Mmmmmooore~! More, mmm- ...more~!!” You pleaded, coaxing Peter to drill you with all the energy he carried. Not to toot his own horn, but - little did you know - he harbored enough energy for a hundred men. And then some.
"You w- fuck -want more? Want more, baby? God, yer gonna make me-" His voice wavered between moans, "G-Gonna make me lose it-"
Peter’s mischievous eyes met yours, as you gave him that doe eyed look he couldn’t fucking resist. Sharp jabs of his cock sped to a blur, slamming into your cunt in a brutal display of his strength. Keeping himself balanced, hands pressed to the table on either side of you; Peter showed no mercy. Abusing your precious, syrupy walls with a ruthless pace. But not fast enough that he’d tear his means of protection. A harsh surge of heavenly pain flared up inside you, as he tore into your pussy and bashed your cervix.
"LOOOOOVE~! Ah~! Peeeetur~!" In a moment of post orgasmic clarity, you called his name. Slurred, and barely recognizable. How'd you even know? Had you picked it up from his walkie conversations? Damn, his zombie buddy's more perceptive than he thought. Peter snickered, finding your pronunciation ridiculous. But the cute, needy sound of his name on your lips triggered something.
" ’Mgonnacum- ” Peter whined, his brutal pace more inconsistent and sloppy, “Gonna-...feels too good o h fuck oh fuCK -”
A pearly white burst of thick heat stuffed the latex of the condom full, threatening to make it pop. Burying his nose deep in the crook of your neck, Peter moaned. Guttural whines ripped from his chest, drying his throat. Panting - not from exhaustion, but overstimulation - Peter loosened his muscles. In mellow, post nut bliss, he almost overlooked the sizzle of static buzzing from his walkie.
“Peter? Peter, answer me right now. So help me god. Everyone’s worried sick about you! Do you read me? Peter, I said, do you read me? Please!” Scott pleaded through a mix of agitation and genuine distress.
Peter drew out a long, hard groan. Pushing himself up a little, he fumbled lazily for his walkie. A sluggish grin curled into his dimples, as he nibbled his lip and winked down at you. His eyes half lidded and hanging heavy.
“Mmmm…’M fine. ‘M fine. ‘M fine.” He chuckled, overcompensating for himself. He knew he’d be in mega trouble with the crew by this point, “It’s all-uh…all good. Jeez, Summers. Did ya think I was dead ‘er somethin’? Haha…” Peter drolled, his tone slower than usual. He withdrew his softening cock from inside you, watching while you squirmed. On your back, you appeared a blissful, fucked out mess. Ultimately satisfied. Mission accomplished, “Don’t worry so much, bro. I was only takin’ my new, zombie buddy out to-uh…tooooooo…an arcade. Yeah. An arcade.”
On the other end of the line, a silence fell. Peter filled it with an, “O-Over.” to compensate again.
“...You took the zombie…to an arcade?” Scott responded, an edge of irritated disbelief in his tone, “Peter, are you out of your damn mind? Do you not realize how much of a risk that is? I can’t even-...your priority for this mission was to retrieve those documents for Hank. Doesn’t it seem irresponsible to be dragging an unknown, undead creature around a public place? I can’t even believe you!” He heard Scott scoff, “Now, will you please return already with those documents? We’re all waiting on you. Bring the zombie too.”
“Uhhh…yeah. Sorry ‘bout that. Dunno what came over me. Sure. Okie dokes. Lemme, uh-” Peter spoke, playfully fighting you off. You reached for his neck, trying to pull him back down for post-sex cuddles, “Lemme grab ‘em. They’re goin’ hog wild with skee-ball right now. Crazy, right? They scored, like, sooooo many points. You should see all the tickets we got, man. We could totally get one ‘a those jumbo prizes. Say, Scotty, do you want, like, a giant Mighty Mouse?”
“Maximoff.” Scott replied sternly, without a beat of hesitation. His frustration oozed through the speakers, and Peter could feel guilt itching at his conscience.
In the background, Peter overheard someone - though he couldn’t guess who - mutter a, “Is Mighty Mouse even a thing anymore?” Oh. Once Peter returned, he’d be in for it. Royally fucked. Figuratively, and, thankfully, literally. In the short, momentary instance of silence between walkie communication; Peter disposed of the condom and straightened himself out. He disappeared for a millisecond, snatching a fresh towel from some luxury bath shop all the way in Paris. Dousing the cloth in warm water, he wiped you clean upon his ultra speedy arrival. Before helping you redress, making you look…somewhat presentable.
“Fine. I totally get it, okay? Look, man. I’m sorry. But can ya really blame me fer wantin' to hang after the experience I just had? Doesn’t matter. Be there in a flash. M-Maybe don’t tell Hank, though. If you can hel-” Peter rambled sheepishly, slinging the towel over his shoulder. He stepped backwards, extending a hand for you to take.
“Pietro Maximoff, I am beside myself with you!” Hank started, clearly agitated, cutting Peter off.
Peter groaned, mumbling quietly to himself as you took his hand, “He told Hank. He did it. He fuckin’ told him. Shit. I’m so fucked. I’m so, so fucked.” In a motion to guide you off the operating table, Peter pulled you forward by your hand.
“I have several questions. Why would you bring an undead creature to an arcade? What were your motivations behind taking the creature out, on a recreational activity? The potential danger or damage to the arcade and its patrons is far too high. And, furthermore, Peter, is there any scientific value to observing a zombie around arcade equipment? I understand you have this insatiable need to act out, but this is ridiculous! It is our duty, as members of the X-Men, to protect humanity from all threats. Including potential zombie related incidents at public arcades. Now then, please return the specimen immediately for further observation.” Hank ranted on and on and on and on-
A noise, like fabric tearing, cut uncomfortably through the air. Weak stitching around your elbow ripped loose, and Peter pulled your forearm clean off. Hank’s tirade met an abrupt end, as a blood curdling scream rocked the entire room.
“Peter? Peter?? What’s happened? Peter, are you alright?” Hank panicked over the walkie.
Past the edge of terrified, shocked to the point of nearly pissing himself; Peter screamed. He wiggled his hand, trying to let go of your lone arm. But your hand held his tightly, your grip refusing to ease up. Once he finally freed himself, he expected your arm to drop to the floor. But your little fingers moved, crawling like spider legs. A zombie’s dislodged arm creeped up Peter’s shoulder over his jacket. Some real, Evil Dead kinda shit. He smacked at it, shouting like a housewife frightened by a mere mouse.
“YEAH!I’mfineI’mgreatI’mawesomesorryit’snothing.” Peter responded, rushed and unclear, “O-Over?” He cringed, scowling as you hopped off the operating table to retrieve your missing arm.
“...Pardon?” Hank asked, tone puzzled. Peter swallowed, shuddering while you pulled your freakish, deadite arm off his shoulder, “Are you…sure you’re alright, Peter? What’s going on? You’ve been acting awful strange tonight. Is there something on your mind?”
A lot. Peter had so much on his mind. Like, the totally real fact that he boned an undead, Frankenstein babe, for one.
“Uhm. It’s-...it’s nothing. Seriously, don’t even worry, Beastie. Sorry. Sorry. Sorry. Just-uhm…lab’s still-...there was some thunder, and the building-uh-” Peter nervously rambled, struggling to find his words, “Over.”
Another pause drew out long enough for Peter to realize his mistake. He cursed, smacking himself on the side of the head. How could he be scatterbrained, to forget his own lies in a matter of seconds? He had a feeling, deep in his gut; Hank would rip him a new one tonight once he got back.
“...The lab? Peter…didn’t you just tell us you were at an arcade?” Hank asked, reasonably suspicious.
Peter’s voice broke as he replied, “I mEAN-” He cleared his throat, “Uhhh-...heh. I-I ran back! Forgot-uh...there was somethin’ I forgot. Like I said, doesn’t matter. I’m totally fine! I’m juuust peachy! Hang tight. I’ll be right there. Over and out.”
Peter took a second to collect himself, clipping his walkie to his belt. He silenced the device, ignoring any further questions from Hank. Subconsciously, Peter took a step back as you reached for him again. His veins vibrated with a buzz of adrenaline. With your arm dismembered, you moved abruptly forward. Nuzzling your face into Peter’s chest, the same way you had all night. Still just as smitten with him. Groggy purrs rumbled in your throat.
Rolling his eyes, Peter patted your head, smoothing out your ragged, messy hair, “What am I gonna do with you? Yer nothin’ but trouble, y’know that?” He teased, pinching one of your cold cheeks, “Whaddya say we get outta here already? But I gotta make a couple ‘a pit stops. And you gotta behave yerself. Don’t get any funny ideas about eatin’ anybody.” Peter wrapped an arm around your waist, holding you close. Pointing at you with an accusatory finger.
You tilted your head, confused again. Peter really couldn’t get enough of that cute, clueless look. Hank and Scott had no idea what they were talkin’ about. His zombie buddy? Totally harmless. You’d never even hurt a fly.
Okay. First order of business. Find a Mighty Mouse plush, just to really sell his arcade story. After that, he planned on snatching you some nicer clothes. Anything to protect your modesty. Thirdly, Peter wanted to teach himself some gnarly makeup tricks. Cover up his hickies. Yeah. No sweat! He could do all that in a flash.
Oh. And late night pancakes. Peter refused to skimp out on those. He’d been craving them all night, and his body desperately needed to replenish its energy. Surely, the gang back home wouldn’t mind. After everything, they totally wouldn’t be supremely pissed and fed up with Peter’s bullshit. And the waitress serving at whatever diner he picked? She wouldn’t bat an eye at some undead, zombified customer, would she?
Why's he even kidding himself?
Gathering Hank’s files, Peter tucked them under his arm. He zipped around in search of whatever other knick-knacks he lost, including his fallen flashlight. Stepping towards you, Peter brought his earbuds to your ears. He exchanged the tape in his Walkman for another, aiming to keep you entertained with music while he traveled at superspeed. As soon as the tune graced your ears, you leapt in place. Squeaking a surprise chirp. Your shoulders bunched, and you darted your hazy eyes around.
“Hey, easy, easy-” Peter reassured, cranking the volume down low so you could still hear him, “It’s just music, baby. It’s nice, right? You like it? You like-uh…you like the Monster Mash? Crypt Kickers? Bobby Pickett?” He gestured with his hands, suggestively raising his brows, “We had a graveyard smash, didn't we, eh?” You simply stared at him, clueless as usual. Huffing, Peter pressed a kiss to your forehead, “Seriously. What am I gonna do with you?”
You clutched your dislodged arm tight, cradling the appendage close. Throwing a quick glance your way, Peter shook his head. He pulled his goggles over his eyes, and braced a warm hand at the back of your neck. The few seconds before he took off, he leaned in close. Hearing that Halloween melody playing from the earphones you wore, he quietly sang along.
As much as he liked cuddling ‘Ro on Halloween, horror movie nights; A new idea crossed his mind. He might just snuggle up on the couch with someone special this year.
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I’m not maternal in the slightest but thinking about domestic Phil does something to me. Like imagine you have two kids and you decide to start trying for another….
as much as he tries to play off being a family man, that man is a dilf if i've ever seen one. good with the kids. gets up for you when you have a newborn because he knows you'd been up the first couple times that night already, makes sure his son is at all of his soccer practices on time and that his daughter has the right ballet slippers. like, will completely deny how good of a father he is when he's out with the guys, but he's a great dad.
and i feel like he just loves seeing you pregnant. gets you to wear those stupid overalls pregnant women always wear in movies because you look so cute.
it's a couple years after you've had your second kid that he brings up having another. almost out of the blue, too, on a sunday at your parents house as you watch your kids mess around in the backyard.
"what?" you ask, turning your body to where you're facing him despite the fact that he's still leaned over the porch railing, one arm lazily wrapped around your waist.
"what? i think we did a pretty good job on those suckers," he nods at the way your son is actively throwing sand at his little sister. tears were imminent. "you don't want another one?"
"i didn't say i didn't want another one-"
"good. it's settled then," he says, bringing a hand down to pinch the section of skin at your hip where your shirt had ridden up.
you actually start trying later that night after your kids had decided they wanted to stay the night at your parents--probably for the free ice cream you know they'd get in the morning--leaving you and phil alone on the drive home to your ultimately empty house.
#phil wenneck#phil wenneck x reader#bradley cooper#bradley cooper x reader#the hangover#the hangover imagine
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EEE HI JOVIE again i love love your writing and im so glad youve been enjoying my stuff!! anyway, sweet and simple request-- wilbur and reader having an at home dinner night :)) (if u wanna make it silly tommy could be their "waiter" LMAO)
much love !!
EEK I LOVEE THIS IDEA! ITS SO SIMPLE BUT SO GOOD AHHHHHH
-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡—♡-♡-♡-♡-
Lovely night
Who: Wilbur x f!reader
Warnings: i dont think there is anything but if there is just let me know!
Pronouns: She / they
Word count: I have no clue
Requests: @poraphia
Anything’s else: I actually liked how this turned out! thanks for the idea lovely requester!
This story is NOT proofread
Listen to this while you read! <3
Both you and Wilbur aren’t the richest people around. For you, this was absolutely fine. But for Wilbur?
Well, Wilbur is just a bit disappointed about not being able to spoil you as much as he wants. Since you both have met, he’s been obsessed with getting you little gifts and taking you to cute dates. But what he really wants to do is to be able to take you to the fancy restaurant down the street from your guy’s apartment.
He’s told you about this little problem of his and you cant help but giggle every time he mentions it. The conversation always ends with a kiss on the cheek and the same six words. “Wil, i dont need all that!” But lately he wont stop talking about it. He’s been daydreaming about you in a fancy dress and him in a fancy tux. Not the old cheep one he has for all those dumb occasions. No, he wants to be able to give you a bouquet of roses and a ring that means forever. But most of all, he wants to make you happy.
You’ve noticed that this was starting to get to him. Every time you got home he would give you a kiss and a hug -per usual- then he would start talking about this dress he saw on twitter and how beautiful it would look on you. “And that dress would be perfect for that restaurant!” And every time you say that you dont need all that, he looks like a kid being rejected of a puppy.
And so, you set up a plan. While he was gone on tour, you saved up, took cooking classes, and learned how to do your best makeup possible. You called him up one night, “Hi Wil! Are you busy?” There was a slight pause and he spoke quietly, “No, i just have to be quiet.” You gave a soft laugh and spoke quietly. “I just wanted to make sure i have the right day for when your coming back.” He raised an eyebrow and smirked, “Why?” You pouted, “Why? What, I can’t miss my boyfriend?”
He apologized at least 100 times before he woke Joe up. You said hi to Joe and hung up. “I love you Wil. See you soon?” You asked with a smile. “See you soon.” You hung up and silence fell on the room. You had 1 more week. You bought the dress he had mentioned 1,000 times, you made sure Tommy was free, and you made sure the house was clean. You were ready.
-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-
“I’m two hours away.” he spoke and you could hear the boys in the back teasing him.
you fake sighed, “I guess i’ll just wait here. all alone, and sad, and-“
he stopped you, “Yeah i’ll try to hurry up.”
“No take your time, darling.”
he sighed, “All i want to do is get home and hug you.”
“Aweeee.” you put another fake eyelash on, “I miss you too baby.”
“Wilbur! The taxy is here!”
you laughed and he scoffed, “I’ll see you soon darling.”
“See you soon.” you hung up and looked at yourself in the mirror. you looked amazing. you hair was fixed, and the dress fit nicely just like wilbur said it would. everything was perfect.
2 hours: Tommy got there with a suit and a tie that was ties badly
1 hour 30 minutes: You and tommy set the table and clean the house. you fail to figure out how to tie tommy’s tie
1 hour: you start dinner and Tommy calls phil to help him tie his tie.
30 mins: you finish up dinner and you get out wilbur’s favorite wine
20 mins: you double check everything for 10 minutes
10 mins: you wake up Tommy from his nap and cehck to make sure you look good.
5 mins: you triple check that you look okay and you serve the food.
1 minute: You light the candles
0 mins: You hear a knock.
“Is that him?!?” you say with a cheerful smile. Tommy smiles, “No it’s the mailman.” he jokes. you roll your eyes and open the door. Wilbur has the biggest smile on his face and he’s holding flowers. You close the door behind you, not wanting to ruin the surprise, and jump into his arms. he gives you small kisses all around your face and neck; your giggling at his touch. he finally lets you go and you were so excited to see his reaction.
His eyes widen at the sight of you in the dress and he begins to ask questions. “YN? Where did you-“ you stopped him and grabbed his arm, interlocking your arm in his. you yelled out to tommy, “Ready!” tommy opens the door and the smell of delicious food swept through the door.
The sight of warm lighting and wine glasses were shows on the small table. Warm jazz music was playing and you couldn’t help but giggle at the sight of Wilbur. His mouth was agape and his eyes completely widened. He turned to look at Tommy, who had his hair slicked back and a napkin on his arm (still holding the door open he cleared his throat.) “Welcome Mr. Gold and Ms. LN. I have your table ready right over there. He nudged his head towards the table and you and Wilbur walked in. Tommy quickly close the door and pulled out the chairs for both you and Wilbur.
Wilbur sat down, still in shock, and looked at his plate. Tommy spoke up, “You see, we already served you food because your girlfriend here, preordered. Wilbur laughed and Tommy grabbed the wine glass. “Tell me when to stop.” He started to pour the wine and Wilbur told him to stop about halfway, you did the same.
“Anything else?” Tommy asked.
“That’ll be all. Thank you.” Tommy winked at you and nodded his head. As he walked away you turned back to Wilbur. “So?” His mouth is still slightly open but soon enough, his cheeky smile appeared back on his face.
“Well, i feel like I’m a bit underdressed.” You both laughed and spent the rest of the night talking while Tommy took photos of both of you.
What a lovely night.
#Wilbur soot x reader#Wilbur soot x yn#Wilbur soot x you#Wilbur x reader#Wilbur x yn#Wilbur x you#dream smp x reader#dream smp x yn#dream smp x you#dsmp x reader#dsmp x yn#dsmp x you#myct x reader#myct x yn#myct x you#Lovejoy x reader#Lovejoy x yn#Lovejoy x you#wilbur soot#Wilbur#dream smp#dsmp#myct#Lovejoy#joviepog#Jovie#sigh <3
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headcanons | brazil national team
seleção brasileira x fem!reader
headcanons of other countries; portugal / england / argentina
a/n: i've always imagined how it'd be like to be friends with these guys. their group must be so much fun to be with. comfort national team ): lmk if you want a part two with the rest of the brazil guys! hope u enjoy ⭐️
synopsis: headcanons of the seleção brasileira during the world cup 🏆
—
neymar
u and ney met for the first time at the brazil world cup
u had been a fan of his since his glory days in santos and his starting years in barcelona
through ney, u got to know the brazil legends
say ricardo kaká, say phil coutinho, say roberto firmino; say literally any brazil player, u have met them before
no one would dare to touch u because ur ney's friend
that's how powerful he is
he always offers to take u out with brazil during the international break
after training, ney insists u and the guys play a friendly game
u could pick out ur team and all, it's very cute (in my head)
he makes sure u get the best seats to watch the game
he invites u to squad dinner after every game brazil had under their campaign
overall, he's just a really amazing dude
it's a blast to get to hang out w him
richarlison
besides u and neymar, richarlison is the other dude ur attached at the hip w
u think he's the funniest guy you've ever met
and he thinks ur the prettiest girl he's ever known
u helped him dye his hair platinum blonde for the world cup
yep it was u
he gave u the shirt he wore on the very first match of brazil's campaign
and u wore that shirt every time brazil had to square up until their loss against croatia
i feel like richy is the kind to invite u to his hotel room so he could get a shit ton of room service
kinda weird. but it's actually kinda cute
he would make jokes solely bc he wants to hear ur laugh
if u don't laugh at his jokes, he literally dies inside
he's pretty overprotective
more overprotective than neymar, i'd say
he'd always have his arm around u
his height also intimidates a lot of people so it helps
he just overall cares so damn much about u
amazing guy
vinicius jr
vini's the kind to tolerate everyone's bs
he kinda just laughs at the squad's antics
trust me, the guys are all weird in their own ways
vini's the neutral guy
he's weird
but then again, he isn't
tbh w u, he's only weird when rodrygo's around
every time u would come visit him and rodrygo and eder, he brings along his nephew to the bernabéu
his nephew loooooves u
bc of vini, u have every real madrid kit u could think of
u have his, rodrygo's, eder's, even benzema's
awesome dude, he cares a lot about his friends
ur lucky to be friends w vini
lucas paquetá
okay i lied
u think lucas is the funniest guy in the seleção
don't tell richy
only u would tolerate his antics
every time one of the guys get paired up with lucas on the plane, they'd ask if they could switch w u
bc only u could match w his shenanigans
his wife n kids LOVE u
i cannot stress that enough
they see u as family
tia y/n
u love benício and filippo the same
but pippinho's ur favorite, ur not fooling anybody
richy joins u guys sometimes
he's the same amount of crazy, not to worry
u and lucas would brainstorm different dance celebrations
u were the mastermind behind his celebration after his goal against south korea
u and lucas would send each other tiktoks every day
whether it be dance related or just mad dumb shit
u appreciate having lucas in ur life
u have always wanted a best friend like him
and now that u do, u never want to let him go
antony
u and antony are very parent-like to one another
u both are around the same age
antony being a few months older than u
he wouldn't live it down
"eu sou mais velho que você, respeite os mais velhos, y/n" [i'm older than you, respect your elder, y/n]
"então você admite que tá velho" [so you admit you're old]
u would joke w him ALL. THE. TIME.
"eu apoio todos os clubes, exceto o manchester united. porque você tá nele" [i support all clubs except manchester united. bc you're in it]
"okay, agora isso é apenas maldade, y/n" [okay, now that's just mean, y/n]
all jokes aside, he'd go livid if anybody ever hurts you
physically, mentally, all that shit
he cares so much
his heart is so huge
he wears it on his sleeve
and he's proud of it
#brazil#selecao#brasil#brazil national football team#neymar#richarlison#antony#gabriel jesus#lucas paqueta#thiago silva#gabriel martinelli#vinicius jr#rodrygo#Spotify
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Uhhhhh maybe qphil building/terraforming things? Idk man I like boosh boosh and that's all I can think of rn lol
Ooh that's a tough one at first glance. Lemme *thinks so hard brain starts smoking*
qPhil headcanons masterlist
See, at least in the past, he wasn't so much building as he was restoring. Those weren't his builds, they were the builds of the gods. He simply fixed and added to them.
On QI however, he builds obv. He does it mostly for the enjoyment of others. Chayanne, Tallulah, Missa, maybe others. He tries not to build a lot bc he doesn't want to give The Federation more of his time or effort than necessary, but those closest to him are desperate to convince him to make smth cool bc they know he's capable of it. He just doesn't wanna put his whole crowussy into a build for the Feds
He tries to think of terraforming as a painting. Blend the colors, highlights, pops of other colors for accents, make sure to keep things random and natural looking, just follow what your heart is saying. And as always, step back from the canvas to see your work at a distance.
His favorite thing to do is greenery and stone. It just comes to him the most naturally, no pun intended. Rose is of course very thrilled by this.
The boosh boosh is vocal stimming. Makes the process of collecting or placing down resources less monotonous. And the crows like it so *shrug* He boosh. At this point he doesn't even realize when he's doing it half the time.
Nothing annoys him more than building at night. Fuck off mobs he's trying to make a masterpiece here >:/
He's much easier to jumpscare while he's focused on building btw, esp terraforming (Fit & Etoiles take advantage of this often)
He prefers teaching the kids and giving them tips so they can enjoy building themselves. He does get that itch to build though, it's why he helps out with a lot of it.
Btw he can't figure out why he has that innate itch to build ;) (wiped memory go brrrr)
He's joked that if he ever actually builds smth on the island it'll be a massive dirt middle finger aimed at the nearest Fed building.
Sometimes the murder helps him with stuff :D They bring him stacks of blocks, snacks to make him take a break (it only works if they offer avocado toast), fresh tools if he doesn't have Mending, etc. They like being handy little guys trying to get a good grade in crow
When he's super invested in building, he'll pop in headphones and then Nothing can stop him. He jam, he boosh, he make big cool thing.
He used to hate interiors but building stuff for and with the kids has kinda changed that. He still thinks he's mostly shit at it but he's not bad.
He wants to learn how to build like Chayanne so badly. Chayanne can make these amazing cozy little spots that Phil for the life of him can't create quite the same way. He can terraform like a motherfucker but there's something about the way Chayanne can make such a cute place that Phil just can't get the hang of. (He is very proud of his boy)
And Tallulah. God, he loves her visions. The way she too is incredibly talented with greenery and flowers. She can make the most breathtaking gardens. He loves helping her bring her ideas to life, and using his macro-scale build skills to make them larger than life.
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JACKASS BF HEADCANNONS!!!
warnings: none, sfw <3
I’ve had these in the drafts for so long but my twitter moot mentioned hcs which inspired me to post these, enjoy!
Chris
goofy ahh
you guys r always giggling about dumb shit
annoying everyone bc you guys do NOT SHUT UP AROUND EACHOTHER ur so giggly all the time
he doesn't care:)
WILL PLAY GUITAR FOR YOU SHSJKSKS
even if he's just messing around you love listening to him
he loves how excited you get when he plays for you, his smile is so cute AAAA <33
late night walks
tackle hugs !!
squeezes you to death and does the lil spinny thing when hugging
always followed by forehead kissies
pinches ur cheeks n shit
just the gigglest relationship ever
he just always smiles around you :)) he can't help it
lets you play with his hair
he loves it
you brush it for him, and braid it sometimes
he is so thankful and makes sure to tell you how pretty his hair looks now
not that it needed your help at ALL
always cuddlin
you love watching him do bits
and he loves having you on set
never seen a man so proud of his s.o. being there to witness his boys do silly things to his ding ding
he comes over to you after every one to see if you thought it was funny or not
just like this :D
assuring him that you did think it was funny
calling him party boy affectionately
and calling him chrissy :))
he calls you 'y/n bug' :"")
also has silly nicknames for you for sure based on inside jokes
would still think you are just as beautiful if you hadn't showered in a month and were wearing a garabge bag
this is so specific but I just picture him to make a lil flower crown for you :")
Bam
known each other since you were kids
always hung out with him and the cky gang growing up
corny friends to lovers bullshit when you get older
being his personal nurse when he wipes out
acts like he hates it in front of the guys
loves it
obvi calling him bammy, bambi, bam bam
calling him brandon occasionally to piss him off
bam is a pouty whiny BITCH
he just wants ur attention!!
will not hesitate to grab your hand in public when someone flirts with you
ur his >:-( !!!
buys you jewelry, clothes, shit whatever ur lil heart desires
going to concerts together
money is not an object when it comes to making you happy
does not appreciate it when the guys mess with you on set
he gets very aggressive
"bam its okay it was funny pls calm down" "no its not okay these dickheads need to leave you alone!!!" all POUTYYY
wearing his clothes
he thinks you're so beautiful when you do and makes sure you know
doing his eyeliner
laying on his chest when you sleep, him scratching your head gently <3
rubs your back when you hug him
calls u "my girl" AAAA
matching tats ofc
matching outfits sometimes too
loves buying you new clothes for you to model for him
he just thinks you're so pretty <3
april and phil just love you
Johnny
he calls you so so many sweet names
I think it's his love language
doll, darlin', punkin, sweetheart, etc
"how was your day, doll?"
he's so flirty with you
he never stopped flirting with you even after you became official
king of romance
would take you to the rodeo or some shit
does that whistle thing when you enter a room lookin all dolled up
"now who's this pretty lil thing?"
loves getting you embarrassed by flirting with you in front of people
loves to hold your waist
prefers that you don't watch his really dangerous stunts, he doesn't want you to be scared :"(
he thinks you're beautiful no matter what, but cannot deny that he LOVES when you wear his favorite dress and do your hair really nice
"you know just what to do to drive a man wild, darlin'"
you love wearing his pink jackass cardigan
I feel like he would really enjoy you wearing red lipstick so he can mess it up later
SITTING IN HIS LAP
in front of the guys too he doesn't give a fuck
he babies you a lot
you are his whole world
singing songs together in the car !!
Ryan
simply the sweetest bf ever
arm around you always
"hun" :")
so many forehead kisses
both of u being adopted by april
I just feel like he'd be very comforting, and the best to have deep, late night convos with
will never judge you for anything (make jokes? oh definitely. never judgemental tho)
cuddly asf
would affectionately do that head rub hair messing up thing?? (there's a word for that i just can't think of it)
always there to calm you when you’re stressed or scared, in any way you need
“shh it’s ok I’m here” “I’m not going anywhere hun” and hugs and forehead kisses and shit awwwww
loves hugs
he’s such a gentle lover, I don’t know how else to put it. He’s just so sweet and caring and soft n shit
he would do anything to put a smile on your face
if one of the guys tried to mess with you? he will punch the shit out of them seriously
you are ry’s world ok!!!!
you and him are absolutely best friends
never the arguing type. if there’s a problem you’re gonna sit down and talk about it. he’s an amazing listener and always understands your side of things. of course lots of huggin and cuddlin after the fact :)
he babies the shit out of you
I picture him to always bring you little gifts/trinkets to show his love. like if he was filming out of town he’d bring you back something cool he found at a thrift store or gift shop, or maybe a cool rock he found on the side of the road.
i also picture him to wanna buy you cute stuff too like necklaces, but random cool items are a staple in this relationship!
always wearing his shirts
I picture him to kiss u a LOT. he’s leaving the room for a sec? gotta kiss that cheek. you’re watching a movie? soft kisses on the forehead. going on a walk? kisses your hand while holding it.
Steve-O
calls u babe
respectful king
shows you off at any opportunity
romantic asf
flower petals in your bedroom n shit type romantic
helping him with his elaborate bullshit ideas
partners in crime honestly
matching fits type cheesy
prank wars with eachother
thinks you are an angelic being and deserve the highest of respect and praise
adopting pets together :)) and being pet parents :))
going on trips and vacations together as often as possible!
I can’t even fathom how he would react if someone disrespected you oh god
it would be so ugly
they are absolutely destroyed
if you’re ever feeling insecure, he ain’t having that bullshit
worship!!!!!!
he’s gonna go on and on and on about how drop dead gorgeous and wonderful you are and kiss the shit out of you
you better not dare say anything negative about yourself in his presence, he will give you an ear full so fast
you are a god to him
he definitely buys you jewelry n shit
and cute lil outfits
and compliments the shit out of you in them obvi
“damnn baby you look so good in that”
HANDSY SO HANDSY
hands to yourself has no meaning to him (obviously unless you told him to stop! he’d never wanna make you uncomfy)
Dave
SO SO SWEET!
calls you things like “love” n “sweetheart”
squishes ur cheeks n shit
hugs from behind !!!!
corny ass dates like going to a diner and having a milkshake with two straws
you both baby eachother
comforting him after gnarly stunts
petting and kissing him
if you ever need comfort he will pet and kiss you too
always has an arm around you
loves being close to you!
he is such a kind and loving bf
would never ever want you to be sad and will do anything it takes to prevent it
ehren third wheeling on trips n shit
you have the best times together when it’s you 3! always giggling
but it’s even better when ehren leaves and it’s just the two of you, sharing sweet loving moments where nothing else matters, just you two together, in warm embrace :)
your chemistry is just so good, that it’s almost like you speak a foreign language sometimes to the other guys. no one gets eachother like you do, even if it may not make sense to others
I think he would love playing with your hair
and just holding you
and doing both at the same time actually
he is just the kindest ever and it’s always so considerate of you.
best listener. you could really rant to him for hours and he’s gonna give you his full undivided attention and comfort.
also great advice too I feel. I think all around he’d be amazing to talk to
never ever ever ever judgemental. ever
loves you to death !!!
Ehren
he is baby
you wear the pants in this relationship and that’s cool with him
I picture you two to have met on set. you had been costars for a while. while everyone was making ehren the butt of a joke, you just never participated. If ehren and dave weren’t partnering up for stunts, it was typically you and ehren. you made a great duo, being the underdogs of the jackass crew. you understood eachother and had a great bond. you eventually confessed your feelings to one another one night while you were hanging out at his place.
he was completely shocked
he thought you were far too beautiful and lovely and cool to want someone like him
you assure him he is acting silly
he was so giddy and smiley, and you could practically feel his butterflies secondhand when you leaned in to kiss him
been together ever since
like I said ehren is baby
little spoon energy
he worships the ground you walk on bc he thinks he doesn’t deserve you
you have to reassure him that you absolutely adore him
he loves holding your hand
I picture him to always smile at you the same way he did in the honeymoon phase forever
he’s all yours, he’s such a sucker for you
separation anxiety like a mf
you stay with a friend for a weekend and the second you come home he’s tackling you with hugs, he’s so excited to see you :)))
he would lay his head in your lap and have you scratch his head while watching movies on the couch
he thinks you are the most wonderful person on this planet and will never fail to remind you of how proud he is of you and all you’ve achieved
I picture him to write you little love notes n shit which are so thoughtful and meaningful but with cute little spelling mistakes sprinkled in (how do I spell gorjus headass)
takes anniversaries and v day and all that shit so seriously and WILL go all out
always your choice of food and activities on those days, he lives to please you
a little bit of a jealous type (maybe a lot a bit)
you’ll always reassure him though
sweetest baby ever I love him
#jackass hcs#jackass#jackass headcanons#jackass imagine#ryan dunn#danger ehren#chris pontius#steve o#johnny knoxville#dave england#bam margera#cky
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Qsmp! Missa and his Importance to Death Family
This essay I won’t lie primarily became a reality out of spite. People always forget about Missa when it comes to the dynamic of Death Family. Or act he doesn’t exist wanting to add new members. And this is a shame because Missa is so important to everyone that’s part of Death Family. And Missa storyline is about not feeling worthy enough to be with his family. It sucks to see people discredit his importance.
Missa always has and always will be integral to Death Family as a whole. In fact the name Death Family wouldn’t have been coined if not for Missa being part of it. In fact this is what Phil believes as well. They are death family because of Missa. Their family crest is literally a skull because of Missa.
Missa always even when he can’t be there is felt in the foundation of death family. He gets mentioned out of love. Everyone gets so excited when he does come online. And every character within the dynamic has trances of Missa.
People forget that when the egg event started that Missa and Phil were the pair everyone was jealous of. Fit numerous times have said he was jealous of their easy partnership. Missa and Phil had a couple of very good days. And Phil brain chemistry changed completely for his husband since. Phil adores Missa so much. Phil finds great comfort in Missa. Missa is his Sun. He lights up even the darkest days. And Phil always been loyal to a fault. Once you gain his trust it’s even harder for you to lose it. Once you are part of his flock nothing and I mean nothing can dissuade him. Phil is always so paranoid and so scared but Missa makes Phil feel like can just live. And not worry about every possibility.
Not to mention the children. People forget so many traits of Chayanne came straight from Missa. Missa taught Chayanne how to cook. He taught him lessons about being strong. He talked ages about what they are both scared of. Literally the first canon evidence that Chayanne is scared he won’t be able to save anyone. Or even the fact he wears a skull. People have forgotten the only reason he wears one is because of how much he loves Missa. And he does. He loves his papa. Recently it’s known that he goes to him when he is feeling vulnerable or sad. Missa brings him great comfort. He can finally feel like a kid with Missa. If Missa wasn’t Important this wouldn’t be a thing. And Chayanne is so protective over his papa. The most mad Chayanne has been is someone breaking up his dad’s marriage or someone making his papa Missa sad.
Tallulah also always knew how Missa important is to her family. Chayanne and Phil always only had good things to say about Missa. They never stopped considering Missa as part of the family (Despite Missa believing others lies easily that this wasn’t the case). Phil always saw Missa part of the family. So much he always considered Missa her father as well. And Missa because he is so GOOD. Such a great husband and great father. (There’s reasons why Death Family is called the Functional Family.)
And I have said this in my analysis about Tallulah. She NEEDED Missa. Missa loves her just for her. Chayanne gets to be the spoiled baby boy (which is always so cute and adorable, gives me cute aggression. He loves his papa so much.) and Tallulah gets to be the one protecting others. And Missa immediately calls her amazing and such a good protector. He draws the four of them as family. He draws his daughter. Not as the cute girl that loves flowers and nature. But as his warrior daughter that protects him. Tallulah always saw Missa as someone that is safe and someone that her family loves. And when Missa told her he always considered her his daughter. Tallulah heart was so full.
Missa in his family eyes is part of the family. No matter what. He is part of the family. Missa has trances on their house. He has trances on them as people. He is the soul of death family. He is their comfort. He is Missa. Their dad and Phil’s husband. Death Family wouldn’t exist without Missa. And people need to stop thinking Missa isn’t important. That he can be changed with anyone. HE IS DAD and THE HUSBAND. He is so important to Tallulah. To Chayanne. To Phil. He is the soul of death family. And he is so loved. Loved by his husband. By his children. They don’t want anyone else to be part of THEIR family.
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Hi!!! I just wanted to talk about how Dan and Phil as a brand is so relatable to neurodivergents in the way that they've been treated recently. So DnP built their careers off of being "weird" and "quirky" and socially awkward. That was Their Thing. Dan spoke for years about being violently bullied (quotes such as "being punched in the head by dickheads" stand out as a pre-BIG example of just how violent it got at times), Phil had the Why I Was a Weird Kid series, they both were frequently talked about as being "weird" and "awkward" by other YouTubers - they WERE the "weird" ones of the vlog group. The ones that awkward teens could relate to. Unfortunately, this got the attention of the #imsoquirky crowd who talks like they're experiencing all of these things while also being the same people who would mock me for my autism.
And that's the crowd now saying Dan is too old to be posting catboy photos or saying that the two of them "give the ick now, idk why." And I just can't help but notice how much I relate to that as an autistic and ADHD person. So many times over the years, I've made "friends" who were slightly into my interests, but then got weirded out by how hard I went into them. I think what we're seeing is the same thing happening to Dan and Phil. Drawing cat whiskers on your face to answer questions? Well that's "so cute and quirky"!! (/s). But actually playing as Catboys in JRPGs, dressing up in cat ears, making animal noises (which the two of them always did but ig this group overlooked), etc? Well that's "too far" and "so weird."
I think Dan especially got hit with this because he has more subscribers. When he talks about being bullied, most people can relate to that. But then when he goes and honks a horn in a game repeatedly (which tbh I've done before myself, very ADHD coded of him) or talks about hiding behind vending machines to avoid talking to people, that is suddenly "too annoying/weird" for some of the audience that got into him for his "relatably weird" content.
Sorry this is such a long ramble, but basically Dan and Phil have accidentally become the perfect examples of how kids with autism/ADHD/social pragmatic disorder/nvld/dyspraxia *insert other neurodivergencies that can cause atypical socialization* are treated. People might find your initial "quirkiness" relatable because everyone feels awkward or socially anxious at times, but it's when they see that you are Actually Just Like That and it's not to be #relatable that they turn on you and start saying that you're "too much" and "too weird."
Dan and Phil were the "weird" ones of the British vlog scene, and those of us who tuned into the younows or watched their older videos knew this, but someone who only subbed after watching a meme review or the two of them playing undertale might have assumed that they were the "right" kind of quirky/weird.
This is probably incoherent, but I hope you get what I mean.
this isn't incoherent! just such a well thought out ask i don't have anything to add. there's really specific ways i'm comfortable talking abour dnp + neurodivergence & neurodivergence in general so it's not something i've ever done super in depth posts abt!
i've actually gotten a few really lengthy asks like this over the last few weeks, so this is to you and to my other askers: i really appreciate that folks want to share their ideas with me but sometimes i genuinely don't have enough to contribute in response to add on to what's being said! and that makes it pretty impossible to answer asks like this.
so this is to everyone: feel free to @ me in the replies on your posts! (doing that leaves things cleaner than @ ing in the body of a post, which in my experience means folks are more likely to engage, if that's what you're looking for). especially loop me in about dnp + neurodivergene or dnp + gender!
this isn't a promise i'll rb or even see things, this website's functionality is shit, but like. it's actually way easier for me to see and support than if yall are sending me essay length anons, and this way i + others can find more people who share the same opinions as us! make ur own posts & ppl will follow u i prommy
#jam replies#anon#very unrelated response to ur ask but like. yours is a complete thought i agree with in meaning if not 100% in your phrasing but i know whe#not to be a pedantic asshole so like! @ me in yall's posts. it will work out better for you than sending me asks like this that i can't#answer
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More Western!hellcheer thoughts because my boyfriend read yesterday's post and said to me "he would not be a fucking deputy!"
Just like in season 4, Eddie gets framed for a crime committed by Henry Creel. Maybe Creel's on a spree robbing wealthy families and Eddie was just in the wrong place at the wrong time.
Now Eddie's an outlaw and he's doing the one thing he's always been good at: running.
He finds himself in Hawkins, a small town full of eccentric characters. There's Sheriff Jim Hopper and his lady friend Joyce Byers, who works at Melvald's General Store. There's Joyce's kids and all of their friends. Murray Bauman, the town's doctor. The Carver family, whose son Jason is set to follow in his father's footsteps as the town's pastor.
And then there's the Cunninghams. Phil Cunningham owns the town's only hotel, where Eddie finds himself staying. The Cunningham family, because of their wealth and influence, have most of the town in their pocket.
While in Hawkins, Eddie meets Chrissy. She's whip smart and cute as a button, and he's head over heels. They hang out and he gets to know her friends, but as Eddie has come to learn, all good things must come to an end.
Eventually, word travels to Hawkins about Eddie being wanted. The town freaks out, and the Cunninghams think they're his next target, when they're actually Creel's.
In the frenzy of everyone hunting Eddie down and trying to hang him for his crimes (maybe Sheriff Hopper is out of town on business and not there to stop them).
Somehow they prove his innocence and save his life and catch Creel yada yada yada. Maybe it's Chrissy that does it, saying "He can't have done it because he was with me!" and effectively shocking everyone because Chrissy sneaking around with an out-of-towner? Or even worse, sneaking around with this out-of-towner?
Idk I'm picturing lots of sneaking, lots of horses, lots of action, all the staples of your typical western.
#just. season four but if it was the wild west.#you get my drift#bf was literally like 'come on thats such a good idea you can do better than that. i feel like you owe your followers an apology'#so!! he's right!! the western au is so fun and would be such an interesting way to rewrite season 4#hes a fuckin genius i love him#anyways#hellcheer#hellcheer headcanon#hellcheer headcanons#eddissy#eddissy headcanon#eddissy headcanons#eddie x chrissy#chrissy x eddie#eddie munson#chrissy cunningham#stranger things#stranger things headcanon#stranger things headcanons#western au#western!hellcheer#just r's thoughts
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still thinking about the qsmp lighting strike one shot...
learning sign language makes you realise just how isolating it is to cant hear properly and its just so nice to see phil signing even when hes not speaking directly to tallulah and even tho she has a hearing aid and could hear him this close
richas having a prosthetic leg and being carried a lot and the other kids understanding that and not complaining about not being carried too which is something youd except to see with kids
and the kids choosing to speak mostly with sign too and richas having to learn with his leg and finding little bonuses like hiding lock picks, its so interesting and cool to see, just representation man, yk
and just the way such a short story is packed with happy little language things in general is sweet, hearing your own language after some time is always such a good feeling, cant imagine not hearing it for so long
or while the parents are communicating in english they still talk to the kids in their languages so they nurture their native languages and dont forget
and you nailed character voices and personalities so well, like you clearly worked on every character to figure them out and its so cool to see basically literally the qsmp characters in this story
the bagi and cellbit moment was a cherry on top, made me so emotional I love them
the possible/implied parallel to crimeboys/wil and tallulah was so hopeful
all in all such a sweet little story, 10/10 I cried
aaaa thank you so much this makes me so happy to hear how much you enjoyed it
yes exactly, a lot of hearing people, even well meaning ones, don't seem to realize how much hoh/deaf people have to struggle with feeling isolated. even if a hoh/deaf person can read lips, can hear a bit, has hearing aids, or even has a cochlear implant that doesn't mean they talking to people is easy. there's issues with background noise or not having people facing you when they speak or sometimes you just don't have the energy that day to put your everything into focusing on what other people are saying. I'm a hearing person but this was a common thing I heard about my Deaf teachers in my ASL classes when we learned about Deaf culture and audism. also, while of course I'm in no way trying to say my experiences are similar to that of a hoh/deaf person, I have an audio processing disorder so hearing is something I struggle with a LOT, specifically when it comes to communicating with others. if there's a lot of background noise, even if I'm standing right next to someone I might only catch ~60% of what they say and I have to use context to guess the rest. it's unbelievably frustrating at times.
so I figured that since q!phil is already so accommodating and aware of tallulah's 'asthma' in canon, I thought it just made sense that in an au where she's hoh he would be very attentive and would make sure to sign to her regularly so she won't miss out on what's going on.
richas babyyyy <33 when they're walking for long periods of time like that I figured it just made sense for the adults to want to take the strain off of richarlyson's leg by carrying him, but also I just thought the mental image of richas sitting on cellbit's shoulders was too cute not to include. benefits of having six parents is there's always someone around to carry you lol. also I thought of the lockpick thing and it was too funny not to mention. richas would 100% hide random things in his prosthetic if it had a compartment for that.
I had the rest of the kid prefer signing to talking for two main reasons: one, I thought it would be the way to interpret all of them using signs in canon to talk while tallulah is the only one who has hearing aids. and two, when you grow up in a world where being too loud means death, wouldn't you learn not talking is better? it's sad but I thought it made sense :(
the language stuff in general was so fun to play with. although it's definitely nervewracking to try and write in languages I don't know, I think it just feels more natural for the parents to speak to their kids in their first languages even when they're around english speakers. idk I just went off vibes for those bits and really enjoyed it. and then cellbit and bagi's entire Big convo I felt had to be in portuguese given how serious the subject matter was so of course they'd both have it in their first language, and I'm so grateful for the help I got with the portuguese there.
i've had several people tell me I nailed the character voices in lightning strike and that makes me SO happy because I was trying so hard. some of the members are easier for me to write (phil I'm used to obviously, cellbit idk why I just kind of get how he talks and don't have to think too hard) but then for others I put a lot of effort into making sure they sounded right (etoiles was the one I had to focus on the most because he has such a distinct way of talking but he's also so fun to write, bagi I've watched a lot of clips of recently so I had her voice but I still wanted to make sure I nailed her, and tina like etoiles has a fairly distinctive way of speaking so I thought over her lines a lot too)
I came up with the idea to parallel wilbur trying to find tommy and then wilbur coming back to tallulah with cellbit and bagi finding each other again after all these years while I was writing it and I was very happy with how that whole bit turned out :)
i'm so glad you enjoyed ty for this it made me smile a lot <33
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Slow Burn Under 50k Masterlist
24 Hours (ao3) - Art3misPlayerOne
Summary: Living a life in the public eye is hard, but it becomes almost impossible when you have to pretend you aren't in love. There gets to be a point when friendship, secret glances, and fantasizing just aren't enough anymore. So what do you do when your secret accidentally comes out and you realize the object of your love has been hiding a few things of their own?
(and I spent all night) stuck on the puzzle (ao3) - carltzmann
Summary: It's Phil's first week of his final year of university, so really, he should be used to it by now. He should be able to behave normally when the cute guy down the hall is stepping out of the shower at the same time he's entering the bathroom.
Evidently not.
Class of 1953 (ao3) - shutup_turd
Summary: It's the year 1950, and Phil is making a fresh start during his first term at the University of Oxford. He's found genuine friends, he's doing well in his studies, and he can finally be his authentic self...but there's one thing missing.
On a starry evening he stumbles upon a group of actors rehearsing Shakespeare in a sumptuous candlelit chapel. It's breathtaking sight... but it's not the scenary catching Phil's eye - instead it's a charming man with curly hair whose eyes seem to burn even brighter than the candles.
Come Closer - manchestereyes
Summary: It’s the 19th of October, 2009. This is Phil’s story.
Craving Control (ao3) - starwatersong
Summary: Phil is intrigued by the hypnotist at the YouTuber Summit in 2016 and finds himself oddly fascinated by hypnotism. Is Dan helping him find one for a video for Phil’s benefit… or Dan’s? Some timeline mixing where Phil’s fortune telling video takes place in an earlier time. They’re living in London apartment #1 in this story.
First to Listen (To Anything I Said) (ao3) - SylvesterLester
Summary: It's 2004, and Dan Howell is screwing up in school. He can't help that he's stuck in boring classes with boring people and just doesn't care. So when Phil Lester, one of the geekiest kids in school, is assigned to be his tutor, he's expecting this to just be another crappy part of his already crappy life.
But when it turns out Phil might be Dan's first real friend, his hormones threaten to screw all that up. Because that's all it is, right? Hormones?
Float On (ao3) - Art3misPlayerOne
Summary: One boy, an all-night coffee shop, a curious ability, and a stranger.
Dan is an average boy with a job and a penchant for drawing anime until one day he wakes up and finds that everything has gone incredibly wrong. All around him, people suddenly have words floating above their heads. Being able to see the messages make him feel like he's going mad, but trying to find out their meaning sinks him into a deep unyielding depression.
Determined to not live a life of isolation despite the floating words, he starts venturing out at night to the 24-hour coffee shop across the street. Here, he runs into a stranger who just may hold the key to getting his life back.
I Dare You to Love Me (ao3) - starrywrite
Summary: Dan owns a popular flower shop and has more of a passion for flowers than he does for people. That is, until Phil stumbles into his shop - and consequently into his life as the two develop a fast friendship and Dan finds himself all but infatuated with him. But there’s a problem: Phil’s engaged and Dan is the florist for his wedding. And even more complications arise when Phil begins questioning everything he’s ever known about love - and himself - when he realizes that the path to true love isn’t always… straight.
If You Must Mourn, Don't Do It Alone (ao3) - INeverHadMyInternetPhase
Summary: Phil is a Masters' student just starting at a new uni, and while he should be concerned with getting to grips with his new course, he finds himself more and more caught up with getting to know his quiet, brown-haired housemate who has a habit of disappearing.
I Have My Freedom (but I don't have much time) (ao3) sierraadeux
Summary: Phil just wants to get away. To clear his mind of everything and reconnect with a long-lost passion. A certain horse and the rancher who comes to his aid have other ideas though - filling Phil's mind, and his sketchbook, with brown eyes and charcoal dotted freckles.
He only has the summer. And he's not here to make friends, human or equine.
It is Our Choices (ao3) - Furud, kittoblin
Summary: Royal Magic AU Where Dan is prince of England and Phil is the Auror in charge of protecting him.
Jump a Lil Higher (ao3) - snsk
Summary: Dan co-hosts The Breakfast Show. Phil's his new producer. They fall in love, assisted by a bunch of romcom tropes I refuse to apologise for.
Kiss From a Rose (ao3) - Nefertiti1052 (Succubusphan)
Summary: Phil is a hawker trading from town to town and looking for an adventure, but when he is caught out in a storm, a beautiful stranger becomes his only hope.
Light in the Dark (ao3) - yiffandquiff
Summary: Phil is the RA (Resident Advisor) for his local college where he manages the residents on the floor of his dorm building. But his junior year in college is about to take a turn when one of his residents, who’s named Dan, is blind. Soon, Phil develops a friendship with Dan as he soon discovers that they were meant for much more than just a platonic relationship. He just hopes that his Alpha abilities won’t scare away the timid Omega.
Missing Pieces (ao3) - amczingphil
Summary: When an accident occurs in the middle of filming a new video for the gaming channel, Dan finds himself becoming more reliant on Phil than he was comfortable with. Unfortunately, Dan needs the help and can't push Phil away, but he can feel the situation beginning to dredge up feelings that Dan had pushed away years ago and buried deep within himself.
Pretty Tough (ao3) - indanandphil
Summary: Phil’s a special agent and he accidentally gets Dan involved in a gang murder case, so they work together to try to solve it.
Some Other Light (ao3) - jestbee
Summary: Dan works the night shift because it’s easier to exist in the dark
Sparks of Light (ao3) - JudeAraya
Summary: In a world where some people had magic and some didn’t, Dan had always felt at odds. A boy whose magic was broken. The least gifted in his family. Dan’s only ability--being able to see auras--had done nothing but bring him pain, because in each aura Dan read, all he could see were the most depressing human emotions.
At twenty three, Dan was settled in London, resigned to a lonely life as a barista in a shared flat with no prospects and little hope, just trying to get by.
Until one day, he met a boy on the tube whose aura was so brilliant; so full of color and light, it changed everything.
The Canary (ao3) - galaxy_ash
Summary: Dan is a famous singer called The Capricious Canary, but known as The Canary by his fans and the public. Phil is a paparazzo who hates his job and is assigned to stalk Dan to get insider pictures.
The River (ao3) - Portia331
Summary: Dan arrived in Melbourne two weeks ago with just one suitcase crammed with running gear, psychology textbooks, and a mere fraction of his wardrobe especially curated to fit both his aesthetic and the Melbourne weather.
He's about to start in the role of a lifetime on a 12 month contract, but he's barely ready for the Australian summer heat, let alone what the world is about to throw at him.
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Birds of a Feather
I don't know what really happened writing this.
Birds had always been something Tallulah loved; their wings reminded her of Phil, papa. His wings could be tucked under on a cold morning, or just when the day was feeling too much. Now when he hugged her, feathers brushed against her cheeks, comfortin her like little extensions of Pa trying to make sure she was okay. Crows' wings were good to sleep in, blocking out light from outside, letting her hide easier.
However, the brighter ones' wings were stunning, little streaks of colour flying through the air, lighting up the sky. In the sanctuary, hummingbirds were everywhere, coming to her beck and call if she clasped one of the roses in her small claws. Chayanne liked them to flutter around him, spinning in joy as they attempted to land on his outstretched arms, grinning.
Flowers were a secondary enjoyment they both shared. Poppies. Lilacs. Sunflowers. Roses now. Even the moss that they slept beside. It all made her feel safe. The place she slept, the place pa found peace — Roses sanctuary, her father. Gifts shared between the family tended to involve flowers. And the birds liked those too.
Crows. Pa always had a crow nearby, they were kind to her and Chay. Telling little secrets to each other, sometimes teasing Phil, or calling out the same message over and over, attempting to get his attention as he tended to the children. They had loved Chayanne, him being Pa’s actual son, but they’d immediately accepted her, calling out when she was in danger, panicking and demanding for the one who’d harmed hers’ blood. That was something more concerning, but Phil said was best to ignore. They helped, so why worry if they wanted to ‘help’ by killing people. Most of the time they perched on his shoulders, or watched from window sills, cooing in delight when her or Chayanne did something they considered cute. They acted as if they were also Phils kids, enjoying the stories with them, calling out for food along with them. They might be odd, but they were part of the family, she supposed.
Family was a confusing concept for her. It was to a lot of people on the island, with the assigned parents, the way people disappeared or had issues that kept them away for weeks. The eggs being taken away from their families hadn’t been any help to that. They’d come back, and almost immediately, they’d come to realise that some people had to leave again. With all the relationships that everyone had with each other, it was hard to know exactly what was happening, causing most adults to be dubbed Tio or Tia once trust from the egg was shown. But Tallulah had had a Dad. She’d had one parent. And he’d said he was going to be busy. But he’d taken her in. Then he’d had to leave, work keeping him away from her, and leave her with Phil, her Abuelito, Wilburs’ Dad. Instantly, he’d started caring for her, giving her gifts and items to keep her safe. She’d started considering him Pa, and had told him so. Phil softly told that he had already considered her his kid, and everything stayed, essentially, the same.
Change was one of her greatest fears. Others changing ranged in amounts of fear, sure, but she herself was changing. When her Dad came back, would she still be the same daughter that he once loved and cared for? Would he see her how she was now and no longer want to look after her? Would he even recognize her? Really, were any of them recognizable anymore?
Tallulah just wanted to be able to protect her family and friends. But how was she meant to know who those people were.
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The promised neverland Headcanon dump:
don and Norman are really close and don likes to carry Norman around on his back when he gets tired !!
Norman let’s Phil use his spare computer to watch YouTube when Norman’s working !!
On days when the younger kids can’t sleep, they go to ray’s room and he hums them a lullaby or reads them a book and they all jsut sleep on the spare bed 🫶
Ray totally tried to distance himself from Norman and Emma as a kid so he wouldn’t get attached, ofc he did anyway.
Since Phil is really smart as shown in the series, he’s def the top student in his class and every time he aces a test Emma takes him to get icecream and hang out!!
so at the night of the escape Ray wore Norman’s sweater, Ik they all wore one but Norman wears his like ALL the time because he gets sick so easily and stuff, so he gave it to Ray before he got shipped and Ray wore it even if it’s kinda small on him!!
Barbara is totally a sister figure to Norman, and when the nightmares get bad he’ll hold her and let her vent to him whenever <33 (goes both ways)
The lambda kids are totally protective of Norman especially since him being the youngest and shortest!!!
Norman is totally like a whole ass ice cube like he’s always cold no matter what and Ray is like a fucking heater so when the two cuddle and sleep together (literally) Norman clings into Ray bec he’s warm and Norman balances out ray’s warmth so they work so well together!!!
Since Ray stays up late, he comes to check up on Norman when he sleeps and gives him a cheek kiss everytime he checks up on him, and whenever he sees normans blanket falling from his bed he puts it back on his bed and he wraps Norman in his blanket so he won't get cold. (My friends hc)
ok so since Ray is like a fucking heater whenever it’s winter and Norman gets cold at night he sneaks into rays room and climbs in bed with him, if Ray wakes up and asks why Norman says it’s because of a nightmare (ray totally saw through it but he thinks it’s cute soo)
Ray totally loves showering Norman’s face with kisses constantly because Norman is extremely ticklish and stuff and so when he does Norman laughs n smiles at the ticklish feeling and Ray finds it fucking adorable
When they saw Norman again, (after being shipped) it took a couple days but Norman finally told Ray about the experiments, Ray comforted him and when he comforts Norman, he runs his fingers through his hair n like pets it bec Norman finds it comforting
Norman loves braiding hair, and since he didn’t cut his hair since Lambda , he has about upper back length hair, so he teaches Ray to braid hair and the two spend all day braiding eachother’s hair
Don and Gilda r like the most innocent couple ever they’re so wholesome and so adorable BUT Don is fucking terrified of her when she’s angry I mean you saw when she yelled at Emma
Don and Gilda r totally the parental couple they act like a married couple and like it’s adorabke (don totally proposed when they were like 5-6 with a ring pop.)
small sad lil hc, but when Norman and Ray argue the two can say some pretty hurtful things, but if the argument was especially bad, Ray would say some mean fucking things, he once said “you should’ve gotten shipped, not sent to Lambda.” (in one previous argument, Norman said he was just like Isabella)
so Gilda is like great at cooking n shit, don can cook but it doesn’t look edible so when he cooks she’ll plate it too look nice n edible
don seems like the type to catch her off guard with lil kisses
Phil is so fucking adorable and Anna def let’s him play with her hair 🫶
once everyone reached the human world, Gilda ran a fashion business and design shop because of her love for fashion and Don probably ran like a fuckin dojo with those punching skills 💀 but anyways !! She definitely makes the designs and stuff for his dojo <3
when they were 5-6 Don proposed to Gilda with a ring pop, years later when they get married at 21 don brings it up in his vow and says “I proposed to you once already, and you accepted, so you’ve already been my wife for 16 years”
I feel like Norman would give Ray paper rings and Ray would think it’s just for fun but years later when they get married n shit Norman says he was being Fr but Ray never said anything (ray proposed when they got married.)
everytime Gilda comes home from work and Don is already home,he comes up and hugs her n picks her up and starts like pampering her especially if she’s stressed
Don is sometimes stressed and since he works at a dojo he works until his hands are bare, beaten and raw so when he comes home all beat up and injured, Gilda fusses over him, treats his wounds, makes him dinner n washes his hair <333
I feel like when Norman first came back from Lambda after they reached the human world, he wouldn’t sleep bec of the nightmares and Ray picked up on it form the eye bags and excessive amounts of coffee so he hugs Norman and hums until Norman falls asleep
When Norman first found out about Ray being a traitor, he definitely questioned everything including their relationship. So they argued and Norman thought ray didn’t love him and was only lying, but Ray genuinely loved him and was also trying to protect him, eventually Ray made it up to Norman n Norman believed him.
Since Gilda has semi long/short hair, sometimes her arms are so tired from sewing and designing so Don washes her hair for her <33
Gilda adores when don wears clothes she makes and he’s def her model for advertisements
Gilda will steal don’s hoodies on a really cold day since Don wears really thick hoodies
Phil is like don and Gilda’s kid he definitely calls them mom n dad
If don ever got jealous he’d definitely get a little aggressive and would apologize to Gilda after and give her gifts and run a warm bath for her
If Gilda gets jealous she handles it a bit more logically since she trusts him, but talks to him about it even if it’s embarrassing (she definitely cried at least once)
Don’s love languages are gifts and giving gifts but also words of affirmation, Gilda loves physical affection and gifts and words of affirmation but also acts of service
Norman can definitely get clingy on days and Ray finds it absolutely adorable BUTTT ray also gets clingy on some days but it’s a whole new level of clingy like- Norman will not be allowed to leave the bed and since Ray is physically stronger bec of Norman’s weak body and strength he has to coax Ray into letting him out the bed or ray will hug him from behind as Norman cooks breakfast and yes Norman is shorter
Bec of the height difference between Gilda and Don, Don can easily pick her up and carry her around so if she’s on her period and gets cramps or anything he’ll carry her around bridal style, get her a heating pad, heating blanket, chocolate and various snacks and put her in the bed with various soft pillows around and they’ll just cuddle and watch tv as he like rubs her stomach or wherever her cramps are
Ray is a raging bisexual !!
whenever Ray gets jealous he’s totally clingy and like very mean to whoever he’s jealous of but with Norman he’s just like there he doesn’t say anything so when he comes back home where they live (everyone) he’ll immediately go to Gilda’s room because him, don, and Gilda are definitely besties and are like super close so since he has long hair Gilda will style it and he’ll talk to them about it while they bully whoever he was jealous of 🫶 ( ofc he talks to Ray about it)
Phil is honestly so smart so whenever he fails a test (rare) he feels so bad n always cries thinking Norman and stuff will yell at him but then Gilda and don come and cooks him food, Emma comforts him, Norman helps him improve, Ray helps him improve, Isabella comforts him and helps cook too and everyone else helps cheer Phil up and they don’t yell at him for failing, they handle it correctly and help him improve and get better so he can do better next time
Norman’s love language is physical affection, words of affirmation and acts of service whilst Ray’s is physical affection, gifts, and acts of service!!
Ray loves calling Norman “snow white” and “snowflake” while Norman calls him “love” and “starlight” !!
Gilda calls don “hun” and “love” and don calls her “darling” and “my love”
Aroace Emma!!
—-
#norray#oreo milkshake#tpn gilda#the promised neverland#tpn norman#tpn isabella#love language#headcanons#uhhhh#don x Gilda
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