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#it’s true scott told me
catsaysmlem · 1 year
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no offence to val kilmer but he really shot himself in the foot here lol because anyone who had as specific a vision for iceman as tony scott apparently did would have been even more convinced by val pulling these antics than if he showed up perfectly sincere and on his best behaviour. 
because firstly val had that barely contained slightly feral quality to him especially at that age that is somehow actually perfect for iceman. contain all that into the skin of a perfect golden boy fighter pilot and it creates something really dynamic and compelling that shows in iceman’s body language and just the way he holds himself throughout the film. so its very understandable why they were adamant on val for the role. 
and secondly, one of iceman’s most immediately noticeable character traits is the dgaf energy he exudes. he’s obviously not a rebel or non-conformist but he’s also definitely not a conformist. he clearly doesn’t care a lot about what exactly his supeiors or authority figures think of him personally. fandom interpretation where his whole personality as presented in the movie is actually a facade for how deeply he craves approval from everyone is usually a little boring to me (especially when done in that pretentious contrarian way fans sometimes have) because look at his demeanour with all his superiors and instructors including viper. 
he’s a very neutral character in that sense - being a conformist requires you to care but being a rebel also requires you to care deeply about what people think of you (mav). iceman toes the lines set for them only to the extent necesssary to keep himself out of trouble but his demeanour with his superiors is extremely casual (maybe too casual) and not really something that would win him any points with them. he doesn’t really care and he lets his flying do the talking for him. 
all of which seems kind of perfectly encapsulated in this audition of his lol
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kaydennln · 8 months
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real ass panel from scott pilgrim btw
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William Afton's unsexy ghost:
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magentagalaxies · 2 months
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just finished interviewing bellini for one of my finals in my comedy class and i'm losing my mind over bellini going on a tangent about how if he were grading my comedy over the past year he would give me an A+. like i didn't ask him to say that and it wasn't related to any of the questions i asked but you better believe i'm leaving that in to be like see professor? BELLINI gave me an A+!!!
#it was very sweet lmao and a great conversation over all#last time i was in town i told bellini a one-liner i came up with about the 2SLGBTQIA+ acronym having the exact qualifications#for a strong password (8 letters a number and a special character) and he said he's repeated it to several people#and it's always gotten a big laugh!! which is so cool!!! i'm not typically a ''joke'' writer my stuff is usually character-driven#so that's awesome that both bellini AND scott really loved that line!!#bellini in particular has been such a fan of my comedy since we first met (across multiple eras now)#like we met while i was working on my musical ''other girls'' and he was so excited to hear about it when i first mentioned it#and had me send him the recording as soon as i got it#and he's been so helpful in developing aubrey as a solo sketch character too#it's so cool having a professional comedian (especially one with such a meticulously good ear for comedy like bellini)#be as excited about my work as i am and be able to help me refine it into something even better#and especially as a queer comedian today who's finding it difficult to navigate this landscape of being ''bad representation''#bellini having been an openly gay comedy writer for almost double my lifetime is such a great resource to have!!#of course a lot of this is true for scott too (tho scott hasn't actually *seen* any of my comedy yet. he's just heard me tell jokes from it#but bellini is such a special mentor for me and i'm so happy we randomly connected over mouth congress over a year ago
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bonesrbleaching · 7 months
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ARE YOU WATCHING IT ARE YOU WATCHING IT
IM ONLY ON EPISODE 2 AND I PROMISED MY FRIEND ID WATCH IT AT THE SAME PACE THEY DID SO WE WOULDNT SPOIL IT FOR EACHOTHER
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sometimes when I miss vm I look back at all the messages that were sent in gc's and relive all those moments that made us scream and be giddy about vm doing the absolute most on and office such bittersweet moments.
a few months back I went back into my tumblr message (I still don't think they've archived them yet) because I was looking for something and I came across so many messages of other people sharing info that they got from people who were at comps or practices, who talked to someone in VMs lives and had little cute tidbits or stories about VM.
For the two years of the comeback I had someone sharing so many cute stories and moments that someone they knew saw or witnessed and for some reason that day months ago i just questioned all of it. We were so desperate for 1 narrative to be true that any little story or hint to it being possibly factual, we ate up.
And I look back now like woah we really were so terrible at boundaries lol but also, was any of it actually real? Were the stories and the moments people saw legit? Or were we all just being taken for a ride because we couldn't believe how good things were going that adding cute little moments and stories that seems unbelievable, we're believed because we wanted it to be true?
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writers-potion · 3 months
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Writing Strong Opening Lines
This is the kind of information your first line should provide:
the name of the character (the speicifcity creates and illusion of reality from the get-go)
Notify that something bad is about to happen.
Provide a feeling of motion (it doesn’t neccessarily have to be the character moving)
Talk about a (small) disturbance to the character’s everyday life.
Types of Novel Openings
Action (in medias res)
Jump into the story with no delay - have something interesting happening.
“They threw me off the hay truck about noon."
2. Dialogue
Show conflict between the characters speaking.
“Isn’t it true you ahve a motive to lie?” / “Excuse me?”
3. Raw Emotion
Make readers sympathize with the MC, who is experiencing a strong, universal emotion (like sadness, anger, etc.).
“I do not look. I don’t ask where. I don’t because Annie’s mother died seven months ago. I stand motionless in the line, looking just like everyone else except for the hot tears that have begun to sting my eyes.”
4. Look-back Hook
Suggest that there is a not-to-be-missed story that’s about to be told
“The terror, which would not end for another twenty-eight years — if it ever did end — beganm, so far as I can tell, with a boat made from a sheet of newsppaer gloating down a gutter swollen with rain”
5. Attitude
When using first-person narration, show some attitude and unique voice.
“If you really want to hear about it, the first thing you’ll probably want to know is where I was born, and what my lousy childhood was like, and how my parents were occupied and all before they had me, and all that David Copperfield kind of crap, but I don’t feel like going into it, if you want to know the truth.”
6. Prologues - entice the reader to move to chapter 1
Action Prologue: Start off with some big scene, often involving death
Framing a story - give the reader the view of a character about to look back and tell the story.
The teaser - present a scene at the beginning that will happen later on in the book
If you like my blog, buy me a coffee! ☕
Reference: <Write Great Fiction: Plot and Structure (techniques and exercises for craftin a plot that grips readers from start to finish)> by James Scott Bell
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jgracie · 2 months
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HOW YOU GET THE CURL
masterlist | rules
❝ idk if you’d do percy but with curly blonde hair (like pjo series ver perce) but if you do, i’d love a fic where he teaches y/n how to maintain curly hair (she doesn’t have curly hair) cause he loves the idea of her taking care of him ❞ — anon
in which percy teaches you how to take care of curly hair
pairing percy jackson x fem!reader
warnings none
on the radio . . . romeo & juliet (peter mcpoland), san fransisco (be sure to wear some flowers in your hair) (scott mckenzie), sunflower, vol 6 (harry styles), slow dancing (aly & aj), our house (crosby, stills, nash & young)
an can someone pls tell me the titles sooo smart and funny 🙏🏼🙏🏼🙏🏼
“Honey, I’m home!” As soon as you heard Percy yell those words from your front door, you left the comfort of the couch and ran into his arms. He immediately put his bags down and picked you up, twirling you around before peppering kisses all over your face.
Life in New Rome couldn’t be any better. After the two of you got into the same university, your parents bought you an apartment to share so you wouldn’t have to be separated in university dorms, knowing all too well how you were attached at the hip. You had cried at the gesture, and Percy held you in his arms as he, too, held back tears.
A wide grin on his face, he asked, “how’s my favourite girl?” As he unpacked everything he’d bought that day, you gave him a rundown of your day. It was pretty mundane - some reading, some studying - but he listened as if you were describing the plot to a sci-fi movie. Your eyes quickly took in everything laid out on the counter, mostly groceries, and landed on one bottle.
You picked it up and read the label while Percy explained what it was, happy you were amused, “that’s a new curl cream. The one I’ve been using’s a little too heavy for my hair, always weighing my curls down. I think I’m gonna try it today, do you wanna do the honours?” 
“Honours of what?” You asked, confused. You didn’t have curly hair, so you didn’t know much about the effort that went into taking care of it, just that it required a lot of different products and was incredibly laborious, according to Percy. His curls were really cute though, so in your opinion, the labour was worth it.
Making his way over to you and wrapping his arms around you, Percy batted his eyelashes, “of trying it on me. I’ve been thinking, babe, you need to know how to do curly hair for when we have kids! Curly hair genes run strong in my family, so I wouldn’t be surprised if our kids inherit them.” 
You felt your face heat up as you thought about having kids with Percy, then smiled fondly when you realised what he was doing. Percy’s always been incredibly shy about wanting to be cared for. No matter how many times you’d tell him you didn’t mind giving him a massage or going over his maths homework, he’d always try to conceal his true intentions with some other lame excuse, like now.
“Okay! Let’s go do it now,” you said, dragging him over to your bathroom. You grabbed a stool for him to sit on and stood between him and the bath, hand-held shower head in hand (I hope this setup makes sense LOL). Making sure the water was the perfect temperature, you began rinsing his hair, careful to make sure no water dripped down his body. While you did so, Percy told you about his day. You always loved his knack for storytelling, your boyfriend never failed to find a way to make anything sound interesting.
Next, you squirted some of his shampoo on your hand and began lathering it in his hair. You felt Percy relax and smiled, glad he was content, “it’s okay to want to be taken care of, Perce. I’ll do it gladly,” you mumbled absentmindedly, to which he simply hummed. As you conditioned his hair, he began to doze off, which made you reconsider using the cream. You didn’t trust yourself to use it without his guidance, but didn’t want to wake him up.
In the end, you decided on disrupting his sleep, since you knew he wouldn’t be able to sleep that night if he slept now, “how do I do this?”
Percy took your hand and squirted some of the cream into your open palm, “rub it into both hands, then scrunch it into my hair.” You did as you were told, your hands light as too little was better than too much, in case you did something wrong.
When Percy looked into the mirror, he turned to you and smiled, “hey, you’re a natural! You should do this all the time” He asked, his eyes bleary. You would do this a million times if it made him this happy every single one of them.
After the cream came the gel, which was a lot easier since it was the same scrunching motion as before. You were a little apprehensive when Percy told you to put it in, since you didn’t think crunchy curls were the outcome. However, it all made sense during the final stage: the hair oil.
“This, my love, is what stops them from being all crunchy. Just lightly pass it over my hair,” Percy explained, pouring the tiniest amount of oil into your palm. You recognised the scent - it smelled like home, like him. 
You finished and admired your work. Percy was right, you were pretty good at taking care of curly hair. After running his fingers through his hair a couple times to loosen the curls up the way he liked, Percy gave you a hug, kissing your head thousands of times and saying a muffled, “thank you,” into your hair.
Nothing was more blissful than this. Well, until you smelt something burning.
Pulling away from you, Percy asked, “did you make something?” You wracked your brain for an answer then gasped, remembering what it was. Running to the kitchen with Percy behind you, you quickly pulled the cookies you were baking - once blue, now black - out of the oven.
“I wanted to surprise you with these!” You said, disappointed. 
Fighting the urge to cough, Percy picked one up and bit into it, grimacing for a second before smiling and holding a thumbs up, “it’s really unique, I’ve never tasted anything like these. You definitely did surprise me!” He said, sarcasm dripping from his voice Rolling your eyes, you discarded the cookies and replied, “oh, shut up, Perce”
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pitchsidestories · 2 months
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New Romantics II Grace Clinton x Bronze!Reader
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masterlist I word count: 2534
a/n: hi, this is inspired by the cute request here. Anyone interested in a part 2 ?
You stood at the window of your London flat, taking in the view over the city. It was a surprisingly nice day but the restless feeling in your chest kept you from enjoying it. Your girlfriend watched you from the sofa on the other side of the room.
Unsurprisingly, as she had been called up for Englands Senior squad before. Something you have also wanted for a long time. And you were hoping that today would be the day your wish would come true.
A sudden buzzing sound jolted you from your thoughts.
It took you a moment to realize what was happening. You met Grace's eyes as you looked at your phone on the coffee table. It was still buzzing, the screen lit up with an unknown number.
“That’s her number, babe. Go and take the call!“, Grace exclaimed, bouncing on the cushions of the sofa.
“Okay, okay, calm down. You’re even more nervous than me.“, you joked before taking the call. “Hello?“
“Hello, y/n. It’s Sarina. I’m just calling to inform you that you made the team and we can’t wait to meet you.“, the national team coach immediately got to the point.
You could not stop yourself from beaming: “Thank you, Sarina. This call-up means a lot to me.“
With her typical dutch accent, she replied: “You really deserve it. I hope to see you soon.“
“I can’t wait.“
Your cheeks already started to hurt from smiling as you ended the call.
Grace walked over to you and wrapped her arms around you: “I can see from the look on your face that you got the call-up. Congrats.“
„Thanks.“ You shook your head in disbelief: “We’ll be going to the England Senior National team together. I’m so excited!“
You quickly pulled away from your girlfriend's embrace and turned on some music. You took Graces hands in yours and started moving the rhythm.
The midfielder laughed, trying to follow your movements. You had to admit that even though celebrating your call-up to the national team with a dance party was something you usually did when you played for youth teams, it never lost its fun.
However, one sudden realization made you pause after two songs.
“I guess I should tell my sister the big news…“, you said suddenly.
Grace turned off the music and gave you an amused look: “I wouldn’t be surprised if she already knew.“
“You’re probably right. Lucy loves to chat with Sarina about womens football, maybe she gave her a hint during one of their conversations.“, you laughed, thinking back about the time your sister had told you about her discussions with her coach.
“Probably.“, your girlfriend agreed.
With a look on your phone, you had to correct yourself: “In fact, Lucy is already calling.“
Eagerly you answered your phone: “Hi, Luce. Sarina called me up for the lionesses!“
“I know! About time that you finally join the grown-ups.”, your big sister responded in a jokingly tone.
Amused you shook your head: “About time? Lucy, do I have to remind you that you were 22 when you joined the senior England team and that I just turned 21 in February?”
“Excuse me? Do you know who I had to compete with? Alex fucking Scott.”, she huffed.
“Yeah, yeah you had no chance before that I know the story, you told it many times.”, you teased her while the Barcelona defender could hear Grace laugh in the background.
Because you two were on a video call you were able to see Lucy lifting an eyebrow in this exact moment unlike her eyes her ears were hearing everything:” Who is with you? Is that Grace?”
“Yes, that’s Grace, we celebrated our call ups together before you called and interrupted us.”, you explained smirking.
She rolled her eyes at you:” Sorry, that I wanted to congratulate my sister.”
“No, it’s cute.”, Grace interjected.
You both wrinkled your nose, pretended to be disgusted by her comment, while the defender was the first to speak again:” Ew, don’t call this cute.”
“Yeah, we’re not cute we’re cool sisters.”, you added.
“I’m going to hang up now. I’ll see you in camp.”, Lucy declared. You both didn’t need to say anything more because you two knew that the other was excited and happy to meet her sister again.
“Goodbye, Lucy.”, you waved at her before ending the video call.
Still smiling you turned around to face your girlfriend:” Where were we before she came between us?”
 “We danced but don’t worry I ordered our favourite dinner to celebrate this special day right.”, she winked at you.
Beaming you placed a kiss to her flushed cheek:” You’re the best.”
“If I was a Bronze, I would just say I know but I’m not so you’re welcome.”, Grace said, even a bit redder than before.
“No, I prefer you as a Clinton.”, you told her.
“Thanks.”
As the doorbell rang, she clapped her hands, looking thrilled:” Oh, that’s the delivery service!”
The days went by quickly, in just a blink of an eye Grace and you were arriving at St. George’s Park together. Your girlfriend didn’t even look like a boyfriend with her brown hoodie and cap on, she even had the attitude of one as the forward was attempting to carry both of your suitcases.
“Babe, I can take my suitcase perfectly by myself.”, you pouted at her, being a Bronze made you very independent although you secretly loved when Grace did something like this.
“No.”, she decidedly waved you off.
You both turned your heads to a cheerful scream coming from no other than Ella:”  My favourite young lovebirds have arrived!”
Next to the Manchester United player your big sister showed up grinning, warning your girlfriend:” Clinton! Let her carry her suitcase herself, she’s getting spoiled!”
“You don’t get to have a say in how I treat my princess, Bronze. Especially not when I saw pictures of Ona carrying your things.“, Grace retorted unimpressed and continued to carry your suitcase towards your room.
There was an audible gasp from the older players.
Lucy pretended to gag: “Princess?“
“Don’t you dare say anything more!“, you warned and followed your girlfriend to your room.
You stayed in these rooms before with the youth teams but this time, things felt different, more serious. You took your time to take in the room before you started unpacking.
You were in the middle of putting away your warm-up shirts, when there was a knock on the door.
“Come on in.“, you said, expecting Grace to stand in the door way.
To your surprise, it was your sister that opened the door and let her gaze wander across the chaos you had created while unpacking: “Of course it’s chaotic in here already.“
“Rude!“, you said and threw a shirt in her general direction.
Lucy casually caught it mid-air and shook her head: “Typical.“
You crossed your arms in front of your chest, looking at your sister: “So, what do you want?“
“Checking in on you.“, she shrugged casually.
“Aw, that’s sweet of you.“, you teased her.
Lucy raised an eyebrow: “Sweet? Sarina made me do it.“
“She did?!“, you laughed, knowing full well that your sister was just pretending to be too cool to care about you.
“Yeah, she’s such a mum.“, Lucy rolled her eyes.
“But we’re adults here, I don’t need a babysitter.“, you protested.
“The youngsters always get babysitters.“
“Oh wow. Any advice for camp life, Lucy?“, you asked.
You older sister lifted a warning finger: “Yeah, be good or you’ll get in trouble with your sister.“
Before you could reply that Lucy was horribly annoying with her overprotectiveness, Grace appeared behind your sister with an innocent smile: “Sorry to interrupt you two but it’s dinner time.“
“Let’s go. We can’t miss that. The food here is great.“, Lucy said, nodding in the direction of the floor.
“Coming.“ You took Graces hand in yours as you followed your sister to the dining room.
“Look at this cute couple!“, Beth yelled when you entered the room.
Alessia who sat next to her Arsenal team mate agreed: “They’re so adorable.“
You could feel your cheeks heat as you sat down at their table.
Lucy grimaced in disgust: “Stop it, one of them is my little baby sister you’re gushing about.“
Lauren James who sat down next to Lucy with a full plate gave her a smirk: “Looks like she got all the good genes, Bronzy.“
“LJ, what do you mean by that?! Don’t worry, I’ll beat you on the training pitch.“, Lucy threatened her with a grin.
“You can try, grandma.“, the youngster laughed.
“Don’t you worry.“
You were glad that their playful bickering was entertaining the table now.
Gently, you squeezed Graces hand under the table: “Let’s ignore them for now and grab some food, love.“
“It’s kind of funny though.“, Grace grinned and got up from her seat, pulling you with her.
“Yes, it is.“, you admitted as you walked over to the buffet together.
As the blonde was putting some salad onto her plate, she hummed:” I love this team.”
“Me too.”, you nodded.
After taking a bite from the pasta dish your girlfriend continued raving:”And the food is delicious.”
“Oh yes, you weren’t promising too much.”
You two were back at your table and you really enjoyed the food the cooks made for the team.
“Right?”, Grace beamed at you.
“Yes.”
“But wait until training starts tomorrow.”, the Tottenham player reminded you why you were here in the first place.
“I’m ready for it.”, you truthfully replied, you simply couldn’t wait to prove everyone that you had a right to be here and not because you and your sister shared the same surname.
Delighted Grace announced:” It’s going to be fun.”
The training over the next days was tough and light-hearted at the same time because the atmosphere between the girls was great even though you were all competing for the starting eleven or to be substituted.
You couldn’t believe your luck when Sarina told you during the match against Sweden to warm up.
“Nervous, little Bronzey.”, Khiara asked you amused.
“A bit.”, you mumbled.
“You can do it.”, Esme whispered into your ear before hugging you shortly.  
Making your way from the bench to the pitch Sarina patted encouragingly your shoulder: “She’s right, enjoy it, y/n.”
“Thank you, I won’t let you down.”, you promised the England coach before you stepped onto the grass. For a moment you felt overwhelmed by the noise and the crowd which showed up at Wembley remembering when you attended the first games of your big sister where only a few people came to watch it.
Naturally you looked for Lucy and for a second you exchanged a meaningful glance. Her green eyes which were the exact same shade as yours seemed to say Show them what you can do. You’re a Bronze. Now you were ready to play football.  
In the end you didn’t disappoint Sarina who believed in you enough to give you a chance tonight, you assisted Grace and scored a goal yourself in the last minute of the game. The stadium was buzzing with excitement and so were you: “We won, Grace!”
“What a game you had!”, she shouted back giddily before kissing your cheek.
Equally thrilled you remarked:” You were amazing too.” Wearing a bright grin on your lips you turned around to face your sister:” What do you think, Luce? Was it good enough?”
You could tell that your sister forced her face to remain blank as she shrugged: “You were okay. The kiss wasn’t necessary though.“
“Yes, it was!“, Grace protested by your side, her hands wrapped around your waist in a side hug.
“Absolutely not.“, Lucy said and rolled her eyes before walking past you into the dressing room.
Grace and you shared an exhilarated grin and followed suit. As soon as the door of the dressing room closed behind you, you turned to your girlfriend and kissed her quickly and passionately. As soon as two of you broke apart again, you found your sister demonstratively looking into the opposite direction. You smirked.
Keira elbowed Lucy with a thrilled expression on her face: “Your little sister feels untouchable tonight. Those two are lucky that they are cute.“
“They’re not even that cute.“, the defender replied unimpressed.
Leah sang along to the song playing in the dressing room while pointing to you and Grace: “Baby, we’re the new romantics. The best people in life are free.“
Keira shrugged with a laugh: “Leah’s singing is even worse compared to them.“
Finally, the corners of Lucys mouth quirked upwards.
It was already late when you arrived back at the hotel. You had enjoyed celebrating your debut with the rest of the team but when you reached your hotel room, you were exhausted and ready to go to bed. You had just changed into your pyjamas when there was knock on your door. Yawning, you opened it and found yourself face to face with your older sister.
“Hi, what’s wrong. It’s late.“
Lucy stood there and considered you for a moment: “I’m proud of you, kid. You played great tonight.“
“I thought I was only okay.“, you smirked.
“Shut up and come here.“, she just said and pulled you into a tight hug. Her hugs might have been rare, but they always carried a lot of love. It felt comforting, almost like being home for Christmas and you suddenly realized how much you have missed playing with her again.
With your head was still buried on her shoulder, you whispered: “To be fair, I was a bit nervous… You made our family name so big in womens football and I didn’t want to let you or our team down.“
Lucy released you from the hug but kept her hands on your upper arms: “You couldn’t have let anyone down. You’re not me and people know that. One day, you might even be better than me.“
You gave her a weak smile: “Who knows, right?“
“Who knows.“
“But it felt great to play together.”, you admitted.
“We’ll have a few more games together, trust me. You’ll be called up again.”, Lucy replied seriously.
You felt your grin grew deeper: ”I’d love to play with you as long as possible.”
“You’ll.”, she promised solemnly while padding your back one last time before telling you good night and leaving the room.
“Finally, I thought she’ll never leave!”, Grace sighed relieved, the blonde had been hiding underneath the blankets during your whole chat with your sister.
“Grace!”, you exclaimed laughing.
“What? I could barely breathe under this.”, the Tottenham player said as she pointed accusingly to the bedding.
“Sorry, love.”, you apologized.
Her gaze at you turned soft:”Come here now.”
You quickly followed her wish and joined her in your hotel bed. Happily, Grace wrapped your arms around you. Feeling her warmth around you, you were starting to get sleepy:” That was a great game tonight, wasn’t it?”
“The best so far.”, your girlfriend responded, before she kissed the top of your head and turning the lights off. Today was certainly a day you both would remember and cherish forever.
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The last few people had logged off the server, leaving it in its burnt, damaged state.
She knew where Gem would be.
Cleo scaled up the ladder and clambered up to the rickety roof of Joel’s tower — where you could look out on the entire server.
Sure enough, Gem was perched on the railing, sitting on the edge with nothing to support her but the wind, staring in the direction of the Secret Keeper.
Cleo looked around at the short cobble walls. Grian had told her that he’d hid away here. Not a bad strategy, overall. You could shut yourself here and forget everywhere else existed.
“Hey, Cleo.”
“Am I that loud?” Cleo joked weakly.
“Who else?”
Cleo watched as the last remains of the green flesh flaked off Gem’s skin, leaving her regular human tones. “No more zombies now, then? Good job, anyway. Killing people left and right.”
“Not you, though.”
“Not me. Only way I’m going out is my way. I’d rather die on my own stupidity than someone else’s callousness.” Cleo allowed a hint of pride to enter her voice. “You were great zombies, though.”
“We weren’t zombies.” Gem turned and hopped down from the railing.
Cleo noticed that unlike the other zombies, or even Scott or Grian, Gem didn’t have a single scratch or injury, save one neat bandage that no doubt was due to Scar’s reckless arrows.
Which meant the blood splattering her face wasn’t her own. “What do you mean?”
“That’s not how zombies work. No offence, Cleo, but most zombies aren’t sentient.”
Cleo blinked. “No worries, I know they aren’t. I kill plenty of them at night.”
“So you should know how they work. They’re mindless. They lurch along, they kill without thinking, they probably bump into trees.”
Gem tilted her head. “They don’t set TNT traps, or betray their teammates, or ask for permission to kill their wife’s perceived murderer.”
Cleo’s mouth was dry. “So you’re saying…”
“I’m saying the apocalypse wasn’t zombies, Cleo. It was human.”
Horribly, incredibly human.
Cleo remembered when they were up on the tower, staring at the others down below, condemning them as monsters.
Somehow, it was better to think of them as a mindless horde and not people she’d been laughing and arguing with a session ago.
Gem was watching her. “You know I’m right. Look at Pearl. Was running from us, convinced we were infected or something but once she realised she had permission to kill, she went in. Even unleashed a warden, or two. That’s how quickly we switch.”
Ironically, Cleo realised, the roles had been swapped this session. The humans were chasing the zombie, but it hadn’t been any different.
“That’s not true,” Cleo said, “It’s not all bad. Did you know, Grian snuck down from this tower to check on his magma pet, and I was there too. And so was Etho. He didn’t kill us.”
Irritation flashed across Gem’s face. “He didn’t kill you? If he had, or, like, told us your location or something, we could’ve all just gone after Scott, and, and, the task would’ve succeeded…”
She trailed off, and looked at Cleo. “Is that the point you’re trying to make here?”
Cleo shrugged.
“Alright, I get it,” Gem grumbled, “No need to rub your holier-than-thou alliance and great morals in my face.”
“Well, no one asked you to put your task over your bandmates.”
Gem didn’t say anything to that.
“It’s not as if I’m exactly a paragon of morality either.” Cleo continued.
“I guess not.” Gem gave a short laugh. “Neither am I. You know, all the murder and stuff? I don’t feel bad! In fact, I feel great. I feel proud of myself for it.”
“…I feel you should be a little less bloodthirsty.”
Gem smiled at Cleo, an innocent, cheerful smile that would have been such if not for the circumstances. “Oh, no.”
Cleo was suddenly feeling very unsafe on the highest platform on the server. She wished Etho was here, or even Grian.
She knew Gem couldn’t take any lives, not now, not when the session was already over. But still…
Cleo raised her sword to stop the axe swing that came, but it was a feint, and her sword hit nothing.
Gem dramatically swung her axe back into her inventory.
“You really thought I would attack you?” Gem said.
“I don’t see why you wouldn’t,” Cleo retorted curtly.
“That’s true,” Gem conceded. “But the curse is just so- it’s so freeing, Cleo? Can’t you see? You could do anything.”
“Uh- no thanks. Session’s over, anyway,” Cleo pointed out.
“That’s true. But I’m still kinda cursed, you know.”
In response, Cleo warily raised her sword. But all that Gem did was deliver a mock salute before logging off with a chirpy “See you next week!”
Cleo stood silently. There had been one zombie on the platform just now. Her.
And thinking about it, she wasn’t sure if there hadn’t been two.
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wittlesissyb4by · 15 days
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Why do we keep letting these pigs get off scott-free? They think they can come in, play with our hearts and our heads, then cut and run and do the same to some other poor girl! Hell, sometimes they’re doing it to multiple women at the same time!
Well, I say “no more”! No longer will we let these immature men run around and take advantage of women! It’s time we take a stand! Starting with little Benjamin here.
Benny tried to slip a little something in my drink at the club last week and thought I wouldn’t notice. Little did he know, I’d already been watching him, planning a little bit of payback after what he did to my friend Lauren. She cried for weeks over this guy.
So when Benny wasn’t looking, I did the ‘ole switcheroo, he was out like a light 2 hours later.
Ohh you should have seen Benny’s face when he woke up for the first time! His hands and feet were chained to his new crib, and he kicked his little legs when he saw (or felt) what he had on. Every flail of his body only made his fresh new diaper crinkle louder and louder. He whined and cried and screamed as much as his gag would allow. But Benny had no idea that was just the beginning.
He thought, he really thought he wasn’t going to have to use his diaper, that it was just there for funsies. The way he moaned and groaned as he clenched and tucked his legs, trying anything he could to quell the painful throbbing coming from his very full bladder. I told him to save himself the torment, that all he was doing was delaying the inevitable, but still he resisted. To his credit, he made it a whole ‘nother thirty minutes before he sighed in relief and flooded his diaper for the very first time. His whimpers and whines after were pathetically adorable.
He drank the bottle out of desperation. He was obviously starving, and I made it clear he would not get out of his (now *very* wet) diaper until he finished the whole thing. I wonder if he could taste the laxatives and hormones mixed within? No matter, he certainly seemed to notice the effects about an hour later when he started fussing and complaining about the cramps.
“Just get over it,” I spat back at him, something I’ve heard way too many men say when they learn a woman is on her period, “just don’t be such a bitch!”
When I tell you: the man cried. Like, full-on bawled like a baybee when he couldn’t hold it anymore and started shitting all over himself in that diaper. He continued to cry for the next 3 hours when I refused to change him. I made him sit and wallow in his own filth while he thought about his life choices.
Reluctantly, his diaper was eventually changed, but so was his outfit. His eyes were wide as saucers when i held up the pink onesie and frilly skirt, but they closed soon after once the drugs kicked in. He woke up halfway through me doing his make-up, and seemed less than thrilled when the wig was put on.
Now, one week later, he’s mostly silent in his crib. I’m not sure if it’s the cocktail of hormones in his system messing with his brain, or he has finally accepted that this isn’t all a dream, that this isn’t going to stop, and this is his new life now. Any attempts to run will just lead to the thousands of pictures I have of him ending up all across the internet. The livestreams of him pooping his pampers notwithstanding. He’s quite docile now. He knows to keep that pacifier in his mouth otherwise it will delay his diaper change by several hours. It only took him a few rashes to learn to comply.
Lauren is now on her way over to get a look at the so-called “Man” that broke her heart. I highly doubt she’ll feel any sort of anguish now. Knowing her, she’ll have even more fun with him than I have.
So this is a call to all women, it is high time we put these deadbeat little fuck bois in their place. Take back what is ours. Let’s fight the patriarchy and turn it into a true Matriarchy, one pathetic little pervert at a time!
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cherrifire · 1 year
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So... How was the 'Martyn betrays Scott to win' spoilers for the last 5 days treating you?
I took it really well, actually. If you know Martyn’s Life series character like I do (god I'm a loser), you'd know it was always meant to end this way. c!Martyn is the worst, you should NEVER trust that guy. He will do ANYTHING to survive and that includes killing his closest ally.
People love to look at 3l!Martyn and say he's loyal but that's not really true. Ren picked him up by the scruff, said "you're my partner now," and Martyn stayed because Ren was genuinely his strongest ally after Red Winter. Sure, he grew a huge soft spot for that dog, but if the situation called for it, he would have betrayed even Ren in a heartbeat.
Not to mention he did betray Ren in Last Life during the battle royal at the end. He even tried to lure Ren in with "Ren? Where you at? Come this way! Come this way!" Making it seem like he wanted to team to take down Scott. But he had a trap waiting for him instead. Ren would have 100% teamed with Martyn at the end there because Ren is just like that but Martyn just wanted to win. The fact that Ren STILL trusts this guy and teamed with him again in Double Life is ASTOUNDING.
So the betrayal at the end of Limited Life doesn't surprise or upset me. Not one bit. I actually smiled like an idiot when he told me he betrayed Scott. Good for him! A betrayal has finally worked in his favour! And I was even happier with it after watching the video. That man was gaslighting the whole server ALL EPISODE! Most untrustworthy man ever. Good for him.
The thing that was hard to contain was knowing he WON. I had to watch all my friends say stuff like "I hope Martyn wins :(" and "manifesting a Martyn W" without cracking. Not a single person in my friend group wanted anyone else to win. It was torture.
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tomicscomics · 24 days
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05/13/2024
A suffocating childhood?!
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JOKE-OGRAPHY: 1. The Source: This cartoon is based on a question St. Joan received during her trial. Before I explain it, here's the story from the original manuscript (translated by W. S. Scott): "Questioned concerning her father's dreams, she replied that when she was still with her father and mother, she was often told by her mother that her father had said that he dreamed his daughter Jeanne would go off with the soldiers; and that her mother and father took great care to keep her safely; that they were very strict with her; and that she was always obedient to them save in the incident at Toul, the action for [breach of promise of] marriage. She said further that she had heard her mother say that her father had said to her brothers: If I thought that such a thing could happen as I have dreamed, I should want you to drown her; and if you did not, I would drown her myself. And that she greatly feared that they would lose their minds when she left to go to Vaucouleurs. Asked if his thoughts and dreams had come to her father after she had her visions, she replied: Yes, more than two years after she first heard the voices." 2. Summary: In short, Joan's judges have heard that her father had prophetic dreams about her leaving home. She tells them what she knows based on what her mother told her, including that her father would prefer to have her drowned than let her go off with the army as he dreamed. 3. Location Change: For those wondering, after the 6th session of Joan's questioning, some of her assessors became too busy to consistently attend sessions, so Bishop Cauchon decreed they'd hold future sessions in her cell to make things easier. 4. The Name "Tart": First off, Jacques' last name was spelled a lot of different ways in old French (Darc, Dars, Dart, Darx, Tart, Day, and probably more). Joan didn't actually use his last name, because in her village, girls took their mother's last name, but we assign it to her nowadays anyway. In modern French, Jacques' surname is spelled d'Arc (the apostrophe is a late addition). However, when brought into English, translators assumed the d-[apostrophe] meant "of" like most names with that prefix, so Jeanne d'Arc became Joan of Arc, despite there not being a place called Arc for her to be of. In this cartoon, I used the spelling "Tart" for Jacques' surname, because W. S. Scott determined it to be the most authentic form of the patronymic, according to his sources. Also, it allowed me to make the joke in Panel 3, "I'm off to become a REAL tart!" Jacques is dreaming that Joan will run off to become a prostitute, and in addition to "Tart" being his surname, "tart" is also an old word for prostitute. 5. The Dream: Jacques shares a bit in common with St. Joseph, as both are hard-working men from simple towns, and both experience important dreams about their miracle children. However, while St. Joseph understands and responds to his dream with a generous yes, Jacques doesn't fully understand his dream and tries to prevent it from coming true. Back then, some women would follow armies around so they could prostitute themselves when the soldiers made camp. Many authors believe that Jacques' feared this would be Joan's fate, and that he never suspected that her true fate was to become a general of war. He told his sons he would prefer her to be drowned than for his dream to come true, probably meaning that he'd rather she die than lose her soul in the sinful life he thought he foresaw.
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holylulusworld · 3 months
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Indecent Proposal (15)
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Summary: Your boyfriend wants to be part of their empire. You are the pawn he’s willing to sacrifice.
Pairing: Mobster!Stucky x fem!Reader
Warnings: sexy mobsters, fluff, established Stucky, angst, implied smut, caring mobsters, pregnant reader,
Indecent Proposal (14)
Indecent Proposal masterlist
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You freeze the moment your eyes land on the man interrogating you not weeks ago. Brock Rumlow stands right in front of you, eyes dropping to your middle.
“What do we have here?” He dips his head and smirks. “I see you didn’t waste time, Ms. Y/L/N. So, the rumors are true. You moved on really quickly, huh? Maybe we should investigate your boyfriend’s death again and dig a little deeper this time.”
“I told you; he wasn’t my boyfriend when he died,” you try to not sound too scared. “Scott and I parted ways on good terms. We just didn’t work out. Please just leave me alone. I have nothing to do with what happened to him.”
“I don’t believe a single word leaves your lips,” Brock sneers. “They instructed you well. You’re a damn good liar. I wondered why they are so interested in you.” He dips his head to look you up and down. “Your cunt cannot be the only reason. Do you have a connection to the mob, or…”
“Detective,” Steve steps in front of you, blocking Brock’s path. “What brings us the pleasure of your presence?” He has a dangerous glint in his eyes when he looks at Brock. “Do you need diapers or a pacifier?”
“I didn’t take you for a diaper lover,” Bucky steps behind Brock. “No kink-shaming, Detective but this is not the right store to buy you stuff. It’s for babies only.”
“What my polite husband tries to tell you,” Steve sizes Brock up, and narrows his eyes, “is that if you don’t stop harassing our wife, you will regret that you were born.”
“Is that a treat?” Brock cocks his head to glance at you standing behind Steve. “You know that I’m a cop, right?”
Steve crosses his arms over his chest and straightens his back to look even taller. 
“Not a treat, Detective,” he says lowly. “It’s a promise.”
“How about we call our lawyer and your boss,” Bucky nearly growls. “I bet they’d love to explain the law and your job to you again. I don’t think that harassing a woman at a store is in your job description.”
“I bet he believed Y/N was alone,” Steve curls his upper lip. “Maybe you would rather be alone with me.” His features darken, and he drops his eyes to the badge in Rumlow’s hand. “We could have so much fun.”
“Maybe he’s scared of being a bottom,” Bucky snickers behind Rumlow’s back. “He’d look good with a collar around his neck, don’t you think Stevie.”
“I’m not one of your boy toys,” Rumlow sneers. “You will pay me the needed respect. I have the right to investigate the death of Scott Lang and to interrogate his ex-girlfriend. We all know you killed him to get the girl.”
“Well in that case,” Bucky leaned closer to whisper the words, “you’re a very brave man for messing with our girl while we are in the middle of shopping for clothes for our baby.”
“Someone might call it suicidal,” Steve adds. He puffs his chest and stares Rumlow down. “We hope you have a wonderful day, Detective. Maybe we can continue our conversation another time.”
“We are terribly sorry, but there are more important things we need to take care of today,” Bucky steps closer to you to wrap his arm around your shoulders, offering protection. “If you’d please excuse us now, Detective.”
“Wait, I’m not done—” Rumlow huffs. He can only watch you; Steve and Bucky walk away. You’re trembling and breathing is harder as you are scared to hell and back.
“You need to breathe for me, doll,” Bucky whispers as he guides you toward the entrance. “We will drive home and come back later.”
“I should’ve planted a bullet to his brain right there, in the middle of the store,” Steve grits out. “How dare him to even look at our girl!”
“You called me your wife,” you sniffle and wipe your eyes. “But we aren’t married, and I don’t think that’s legal. I mean…you’re already married to Bucky and I’m just…”
“You are our wife,” Bucky stops you from doubting your role in your relationship. “We will have a nice ceremony. You can wear a pretty dress, all white and innocent.” He purrs and nuzzles your cheek. “Only for me to rip the dress off your body.”
“Buck,” Steve clears his throat. “We will plan a wedding later. For now, we need to take care of Y/N. And later…” 
He doesn’t say more, but you assume they will do something about Brock Rumlow. You only fear their solution will be final, and get them into more trouble…
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“Romanoff, leash your dog and keep him away from our girl or we will put it to sleep,” Steve spits while talking. He yells loud enough to make his husband flinch. “He talked to our girl in the middle of a store. Rumlow is out of control!”
“I’m not his mother nor do I have control over him,” Natasha bites back. “I covered your crimes for years. I’m loyal, and you know it. It’s not my fault Rumlow won’t stop sniffing around. He’s like a dog with its bone.”
“You’ve got one last chance to stop him. If not, we will take care of him,” he says, and steps closer to Natasha. 
“I can’t,” she sighs and shakes her head. “It’s too much to ask for.”
“Don’t act as if you are doing us a favor. We pay you well and make sure you are safe for years,” Steve points out. 
“I did you more than one favor,” she argues and points at Bucky. “How many times did I save your ungrateful asses from getting arrested?”
“All right, well, let me rephrase that, then,” Bucky says and gets his gun out. “You make sure that Rumlow stops scaring our girl, or we will take matters into our own hands. This includes letting everyone in your life know about your dirty little secrets.”
Natasha blanches. She swallows audibly, feeling like a lamb among wolves. So far, Steve and Bucky treated her like an equal, but she’s close to losing their protection and the money she got used to.
“I’ll try,” she sniffs. “Give me a few days. Maybe I can find a way to get rid of him without killing him. I only need to find his dirty little secrets.”
Bucky nods, and hands Natasha an envelope filled with money. “You have a week,” he says. “We want to continue this fruitful business relationship. Don’t fuck this up.”
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“Hey, he won’t hurt you, or get close to you, doll,” Steve softly speaks to you while his husband tugs you into bed. “We promise to take care of him.”
“The detective working for us will help us,” Bucky hastily says. He doesn’t want to tell you that they already planned to get rid of Rumlow if Natasha doesn’t find a way to make him stop.
“He scared me, is all,” you whisper and snuggle into the pillow. “I believed he would arrest me, or you.”
“No one will part us, Y/N,” Steve says. “And no one is brave enough to try…”
Part 15.2
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Tags in reblog.
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wandamaximoffsbadgirl · 3 months
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Let's Talk About That
And if I'm honest, I just never saw this comin' (7)
Psychiatrist!Avenger!fem!Reader x Wanda Maximoff
Summary: You've lost the Civil War, but you've also lost the only love you've ever known so where does that leave you?
Word Count: 4.4K
Warning: Mostly angst, but some fluff too! Mentions of edging
A/N: Let's dive into Infinity War
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July 10th 2016
After a hard fought battle all of us who sided with Cap except for Steve and Bucky were taken to The Raft, a newly built prison especially for us. Wanda and I confined to straight jackets and power dampening collars. Barley able to move at all. The collars and jackets coming off of the two of you rarely. Then just like it was before the avengers suddenly they were testing the stone in your chest. Poking and prodding at it. They even tried to pull it out which the stone ended up hurting them when they tried it.
That is where Sam, Clint, Scott, Wanda, and yourself stayed for close to two months. Then finally on July 10th Steve and Natasha rescued you. As soon as Tasha took off your collar and jacket you hugged her finally having the ability to touch again.
"Fuck..." you buried your face into her neck. Running your hands up into her hair and just being able to touch someone again was a feeling you thought you’d never get to have again. It made you want to cry like a full blown sensory overload, but in the best possible way.
"You're okay, Y/N, you're safe," Natasha whispered, hugging you back. She lifted you ever so slightly off the ground. The weightlessness of it felt nice.
You looked up and saw Wanda being released by Steve. That's when Vision came in, letting you know that there wasn’t much time. Wanda ran to him, hugging him tightly. Just like that, with no more words between the two of you, you knew it was over, and your worst fear had come true. You looked away, re-burying yourself against Tasha as you felt tears prick the corners of your eyes.
"Come on, Y/N, let's go. I have someone I want you to meet," Tasha told you. Tugging on you a bit, but you were more than willing to follow her at this moment. You knew there was no way you could look at Wanda without having a full breakdown and Vision? You might tear him to pieces if you stay here any longer, feeling the anger boil over at him for taking her from you. "We're going to a safe house together. We're going to lay low for a bit."
You didn't argue, but you did look back at Wanda, hoping she'd protest or say anything, do anything. But she didn't. Her hand easily slipped into Vision's as a tear rolled down your cheek. She didn’t look at you, the smile she used to give you was now directed at Vision.
"Let's go, Tasha. No need to stay here any longer," You said coldly, grabbing her hand and pulling her along. Once you were in your own vehicle and flying away, Tasha cloaked and put it onto autopilot, she pulled you into her and let you just cry. No words exchanged for a bit as she just rubbed your back.
"You deserve so much better. Did she even tell you it was over?" she asked. You shook your head.
“She just pushed me away.... I'm sorry I left you that day. I-" She put a finger to your lips. You shut up quick from that.
"No need for apologies, sweetie," You looked up at her and finally took in her new hair.
"Blonde... hmmm.." It was also shorter than the last time you’d seen her a few months ago. You could only wonder what she had gotten up to, but you could only assume she did it because she was in hiding.
"You don't like it, do you?" You shook your head a soft smile coming to your face.
"It's not that... I just prefer redheads," you mentioned with a shrug.
“Well I’ll grow it back out. No more blonde after this, okay?” Natasha asked as if your answer would be the end all of her dying her hair. You simply gave her a nod and moved back to your own seat.
“I still don’t know how to fly...or drive...” You spoke up making the blonde chuckle.
“You were being held captive for two months I wasn’t expecting you to learn.” Her voice had turned light and airy, a bit of laughter coming out. “Here sweetie flip that switch.” Natasha pointed to a switch on the dashboard which you did. “Good! So that turned off auto pilot. Now I’m going to show you how to actually keep this thing up in the air.”
Time Skip
May 2018
I was awoken by someone jumping on the bed, startling me awake. "Harley Adams wake up already! I'm going to have to leave soon and then who knows when you'll get to see this face again!" I hear Yelena's thick Russian accent and I smirk, a chuckle coming out of my lips as I reach out and grab her, pulling her into a tight hold she can't get out of without hurting her of course. She still tries though,
"Mmmm Teddy." I bury my face against her.
"No Y/F/N I'm not your Teddy. That is Natasha's job." Yelena protests, but still I hold her there until she stops and then when Natasha comes through the door I hear her laugh.
"I feel like it was really your own fault Lena." Tasha remarks. I hear her come over to me, peppering kisses on my cheek. "Let her go malen'kiy." I do as asked and release Yelena. Turning now to Natasha, bringing her into my vice grip,
"Mmm Teddy."
"It's time to get up malyshka." I groan at Tasha's reminder, but also release her and sit up. I rub my eyes and yawn.
"I don't want to." I state with a pout.
"I know, but we all have work to do. Yelena is going to be heading out to go save more Widows. You have to work at the office, and I get to stay here and take care of the house." Tasha reminds me and I look over at Yelena. She gives me a small smile. I know she doesn't want to leave us again.
"I'm sure you'll be back before any of us know it." I smile at Yelena, holding her hand. I let my thumb rub the back of her hand.
As Yelena's smile fades into a more somber expression, she squeezes my hand gently. "I hope so, Harley. But you know how unpredictable these missions can be." There's a hint of sadness in her voice, but also determination.
"I'll be counting the minutes until you're back," I assure her, giving her hand another reassuring squeeze before releasing it.
Natasha comes over and sits on the edge of the bed, wrapping an arm around my shoulder. "You know she'll be safe out there. She's one of the best, just like you."
I lean into Natasha's touch, finding comfort in her presence. "I know, but I still worry," I admit softly.
"We all do," Natasha says, pressing a kiss to my forehead. "But we trust her, just like she trusts us."
Yelena stands up from the bed, her expression turning more determined. "I better get going. There are lives to save."
I nod, giving her a small smile. "Take care of yourself out there, Yelena. And don't do anything reckless."
She grins back at me. "Wouldn't dream of it, Y/N." With that, she heads out of the room, leaving Natasha and me alone.
Natasha turns to me, her gaze softening. "Ready to face the day, malyshka?"
I sigh, but nod. "Yeah, let's do this."
Together, we get up from the bed and start getting ready for the day ahead, knowing that no matter what challenges come our way, we'll face them together as a family.
May 30th 2018
As you go through the days at the office you’re constantly reminded of your old life that for the time you've left behind. You know it's been two years, but you could never let go of that lingering feeling that something was always around the corner for you. Everything felt quiet too quiet as you listened to a patient talk to you about how their new meds are doing. How they're helping them with their episodes and I smile. Remembering that this is all you’ve ever wanted. Just to help people like this. Yet now? It didn’t feel like it was what you wanted. You missed the action. You missed saving people. You missed Avenging.
"This was a good session Jean. We'll set up another appointment for next week okay? Just let her know at the desk." You smile as she exits and you let out a breath as you slump back in your chair.
Your chest, more specifically your stone, seizes up, as you clutch at your chest struggling to breath for a moment before it passes. Recently it's been doing that. These random bursts of seizing coming from your stone and you couldn’t figure it out. It had never done anything like this in all the years since it decided your chest was it’s new home.
As you finish up for the day you head to your car and head home. Taking out your key and turning it in the lock. As you drop your keys in the bowl by the door and start taking off your flats your chest once again seizes up. "Tasha!" You call out, your voice strained to make it’s way out. You hear Tasha's steps along with a heavier pair. You look up through pain filled eyes to find Steve. As you struggle for a moment to breath, you lean against Tasha.
"What's wrong Malyshka?" She asks worry etched on her face.
"First Vision and now you..." Steve says under his breath as you regain your ability to breath you take in a deep breath.
"What do you mean first Vision?" You hadn't thought about him or Wanda in a long time.
"His stone has been hurting him. He's been with Wanda the past few days and Wanda let me know about it." you bite your tongue until you taste metal.
"Do we know why?" Steve shook his head. That wasn’t the answer you wanted to hear.
"I came here to grab you two so we could head over to Scotland. The two haven't communicated in a few days." You feel your chest tighten, but it's not the stone this time.
"Will you be okay Harley?" Steve asks and you nod. The ability to talk felt foreign when it came to seeing Wanda again. Facing something you’ve run from for years. Though words bubble up to the surface like water boiling over,
"Oh yeah...yeah I mean it's been two years and we ended on shit terms so yeah I'm totally looking forward to seeing my ex and her current synthizoid." You don't even give him the satisfaction of being a boyfriend. That would mean that he'd have to actually be human. You push past both of them. "I'm taking a shower before we leave." You say without letting either of them say anything.
As you step into the shower, the hot water cascading over you, you let out a shaky breath. The memories flood back, unwanted but unavoidable. Thoughts of Wanda, of Vision, of everything the two of you had been through together and how it all fell apart. You can feel the pain in your chest, not just from the physical discomfort, but from the emotional turmoil stirring within you.
Closing your eyes, you try to push the memories away, to focus on the present moment. But they linger, stubborn and persistent, like shadows creeping in the corners of your mind. You can't shake the feeling of regret, of wishing things had turned out differently.
As you wash away the day's stress and tension, you try to find some semblance of peace within yourself. But it's elusive, slipping through your fingers like water, leaving you feeling hollow and empty.
When you step out of the shower, you find Tasha waiting for you, concern etched on her face. "Y/N, are you okay?" she asks softly, reaching out to touch your arm.
You force a smile, trying to push aside the turmoil raging inside of you. "Yeah, I'm fine," you reply, though even you can hear the falseness in your voice.
Tasha gives you a knowing look, her eyes filled with empathy. "You don't have to pretend with me, Y/N/N. I know it's not easy."
You sigh, letting your guard down for a moment. "I just... I don't know how to face them, Tasha. After everything that happened..."
She pulls you into a comforting hug, holding you close. "You don't have to face them alone, Y/N. We'll get through this together, just like we always do."
"Why do you put up with me?" You ask standing in front of her, dripping from your shower. She gives a soft smile, grabbing your towel and helping you dry off.
"I love you. That's why." You sigh.
"But I..."
"You're still caught up on her? I know."
"So how can you love me? Why put up with me? Why me Tasha? We've got a 10 year age differ-" She cuts you off by pulling you into her lap and kissing you.
"Stop. Don't do that to yourself. You don't deserve it. I love every little bit of you. Especially that you still hold feelings for her." She tells you and you can’t fathom why that could be a reason to keep loving you when you couldn’t fully give yourself over.
"Why?"
"You've been through so much and yet you still keep your heart." Tasha stops a moment. "My mother asked me, 'how I kept my heart even through everything' do you know what I told her?" You shake your head, droplets of water flying, hitting various objects including Tasha.
"You. You showed me what it meant to always keep your heart through everything. You always had the answers. Every conversation we had you always had the answers. You always knew what to say, what I needed to hear. You always reminded me of the good. It was all you. So I'm going to love you at your highest of highs and your lowest lows. Your moments of jealousy when a girl looks my way, your angry outbursts, the bar fights you start with the guys when they squeeze my ass. I know you love me just as deeply as you do her. I don't ever question it, even though I know you still love her, you hold me in just as high of a regard." Tears are streaming down your cheeks.
"I didn't ask for a whole therapy session Tash..." You go to rub your eyes, but she stops you, brushing her thumbs at first and then she leans in and licks your tears.
"What can I say? I love seeing you cry Malyshka. Though usually out of desperation from edging-" You cover her mouth.
"Shhh Steve is gonna hear." You whisper. She smiles and laughs against your hands.
"Let's get you dressed and head out. We're going to Scotland and then hopefully back to the compound. I'm leaving Lena a note on where to find us." You nod and move off her getting ready to face being a superhero again.
As Tasha helps you get dressed, her words linger in your mind, comforting and reassuring you in a way you hadn't expected. Despite your lingering feelings for Wanda, Tasha's unwavering love and support fill you with a sense of gratitude and warmth.
"Thank you, Tash," you say softly, meeting her gaze with a mixture of affection and vulnerability.
She smiles, brushing a stray strand of wet hair away from my face. "Always, Harley. I'll always be here for you, no matter what."
With her by my side, I feel a renewed sense of strength and determination. Whatever challenges lie ahead, I know that together we can face them, just as we always have.
As you prepare to leave for Scotland, you take a moment to appreciate the depth of Tasha's love for you, feeling grateful for the unwavering support she provides, even in the face of your own uncertainties and insecurities.
With Tasha's hand in yours, you step forward, ready to face whatever the future may hold, knowing that as long as you have each other, you can overcome anything.
When you get to Scotland Wanda and Vision are in a heated battle between two alien beings. Vision is hurt and Wanda is by his side. You push your feelings aside when you see them coming at Wanda, rushing in and using more power than you had in a while as you use a bit more than expected and the bigger one goes flying backwards. Fumbling back through the building you found yourself in, coughing up something akin to blood you could only assume.
"Don't. Touch." Your possessive nature takes over. As you kick off of your feet the ground beneath them breaks away, sending you flying forward to the smaller one. "Run." You say a wicked look in your eyes and when he doesn't you grab his neck, lifting, squeezing as you watch him struggle. "You two hurt something I hold close and for that," You tighten your grip before throwing him like a baseball player would a ball. Sending him flying into the other alien creature before they beamed themselves back up. A low growl coming out of you, breathing heavily as you turn back. Tasha and Steve helping out Vision as you go over to Wanda.
"Are you okay?" You ask, worry in your voice.
"I'm fine." Her voice is cold. Her accent mostly faded away. You simply nod.
"Vision. I heard your stone is bothering you as well?" He's clutching at his side; you take notice that it’s torn open.
"Yes it seems it had something to do with those two." He tells you, his voice a little strained.
"Well lets hope so because I'd like to keep breathing." You tell him and Wanda.
"You weren't breathing!?" Wanda finally has some worry to her voice.
"Yes when my stone reacted to them. It would clench around my lungs. Remember me saying that? The stone has tendrils around my heart and lungs. So every reaction I'd struggle to breath." You explain and you see the emotions swirling, bubbling up to the surface on Wanda. You look away. "Let's go." You take Tasha's hand and go to the Quinjet while Sam and Steve help Vision to the jet.
In the Quinjet, the tension is palpable as you make our way back to the compound. Wanda's worry for you is evident, but the emotional distance between the two of you remains, a reminder of the unresolved feelings lingering from your past.
Tasha squeezes your hand reassuringly, silently offering her support. You appreciate the comfort she provides, grounding you in the present moment. As the jet soars through the sky, you can't help but reflect on the complexities of your relationships and the challenges that lie ahead.
Arriving at the compound, you assist Vision in getting the medical attention he needs. Wanda's concern for him is evident, and you can't help but notice the subtle shifts in her emotions. The air is thick with unspoken words and unresolved tensions.
Later, as you sit with Tasha in the quiet of your shared space, you can't shake the heaviness in your chest. The events in Scotland have stirred up old wounds and exposed the fragility of the connections you once shared.
"Tasha," You begin, your voice hesitant. "I don't know how to navigate this. The past, the feelings. It's all so complicated."
She looks at you with understanding in her eyes, her hand reaching out to cup your cheek. "Y/N, we'll figure it out together. We always do."
In her comforting presence, you find solace. The complexities of your emotions may linger, but for now, you are grateful for the anchor Tasha provides in the storm of uncertainty.
Tasha tilts your chin up to meet her, she leans in and gives you a full kiss. Your hand reaching up to cup her cheek as you slowly move against each other. Its a kiss full of love and passion and you almost don't notice Wanda storm off then Natasha smiles against your lips, pulling away from them to whisper in your ear. "I think she still likes you." You smile and push Tasha playfully.
"You think so?" You reply, a hint of amusement in your voice as you glance in the direction Wanda had stormed off.
Tasha nods, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "I know so," she teases, her lips curling into a playful smirk.
You shake your head in disbelief, feeling a mixture of emotions swirling inside of you. Despite the complications of your past, the lingering feelings between Wanda and you are undeniable. But in this moment, with Tasha by your side, you can't deny the warmth and comfort her presence brings.
Leaning in, you press a gentle kiss against Tasha's lips, silently thanking her for her understanding and unwavering support. Whatever the future holds, you know that with Tasha, you are not alone. Together, you'll navigate the complexities of your relationships and find your way forward, one step at a time.
"I think I should finally be an adult and actually try to talk with her." You say to Tasha standing up. She offers you a smile and a reassuring squeeze to your hand as you go off looking for where Wanda went. You find her in one of the small rooms on the jet.
"Hey can we talk?" You ask, leaning on the frame of the door.
"I don't really have anything to say to you." She snaps.
"Well I do so just listen." You say moving into the room, closing the door behind you. There isn't much room in here and you’d rather not sit next to her on the small cot so you opt for squatting down in front of her. Sitting flat on your feet and holding your knees to your chest. "When everything between us started I was only 19 and you were the first person I ever truly let in. When I was going to school that's all I focused on. So you were my first everything and I may be smart, but I did a lot of stupid things in our relationship Wands. I was overly jealous in all my actions and I accused you of things that weren't true because I was insecure. I had my own mental health problems that I pushed to the side and by doing so I threw them at you. I was still a kid and I acted like one. Instead of talking things through I yelled and screamed at you which wasn't fair to you." You take in a deep shaky breath. "Tasha told me that Tony purposefully separated us during the accords. It's why Tasha took me with her. I wanted to make it clear that back then I didn't cheat on you. I'm not that type of person. It wasn't until after we were rescued and I saw you with Vision that I did anything with Tasha." You explain, looking up at her.
As you pour your heart out to Wanda, you can feel the weight of your words hanging in the air between us. She listens silently, her expression unreadable as she processes everything you've said. You hold her gaze, searching for any sign of understanding or forgiveness.
"I know I hurt you, Wands," You continue, your voice softening with sincerity. "And I'm sorry for that. I've had a lot of time to reflect on my actions and the mistakes I made. I just want you to know that I've grown since then. I've learned from my past and I'm trying to be a better person."
Wanda remains silent for a moment, her eyes flickering with a mixture of emotions. Finally, she speaks, her voice tinged with a hint of vulnerability. "I appreciate you being honest with me, but it's not just about what happened in the past. It's about trust and moving forward."
You nod, understanding her perspective. "I know rebuilding trust takes time, Wanda. And I'm willing to do whatever it takes to earn yours back. I just want the chance to prove that I've changed."
She sighs, her gaze softening slightly. "I'll need some time to think about everything you've said."
"That's all I ask," You reply, offering her a small smile. "Thank you for listening, Wands."
As you stand up to leave, you feel a glimmer of hope flicker within you. Despite the uncertainty of what lies ahead, you’re grateful for the opportunity to finally address the lingering tensions between you. And with time, you’re hopeful that the two of you can find a way to heal and move forward, whether together or apart.
You make your way back to Tasha, settling into her lap, wrapping yourself up into her. "How did it go?" She asks.
"Probably about as good as I could hope. Said she needed time to think. Said we need to rebuild our trust and all that." You tell her, feeling Tasha's lips on the top of your head before her fingers run through your hair.
"Good. I'm glad you finally got to say your peace to her. Watching you struggle with it for the past two years was hurting me." Tasha tells you. "Seeing you hurt, hurts me. I just want what's best for you and I want you happy." You smile against her neck.
"I want the same for you Tasha."
As Tasha holds you close, her comforting presence enveloping you, you can’t help, but feel a sense of warmth and gratitude wash over you. Despite the complexities of your past with Wanda, You’re grateful to have Tasha by your side, offering unwavering support and understanding.
"I'm lucky to have you, Tasha," you murmur, nuzzling closer to her. "You've been my rock through all of this."
"And you've been mine," she replies softly, her arms tightening around you. "We'll get through this together, Y/N. Whatever happens, I'll be here for you."
You lean up to press a tender kiss to her lips, feeling a surge of affection and appreciation for the woman who has stood by you through thick and thin. In that moment, you’re filled with a sense of hope and determination, knowing that no matter what challenges lie ahead, as long as you have each other, you can overcome them.
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patolemus · 3 months
Text
Here’s a little thing that’s been bugging me for a few weeks.
Summary: Stiles is a demon. This is common knowledge. At least, he was under the impression that this is common knowledge. He should have known better than to trust Derek Hale to figure it out.
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Look, in his defense, Stiles was sure they knew. At least, he was sure Derek knew, and if Derek knew, then the rest of the pack knew. That’s just kind of how it works, when they aren’t hiding threats from each other.
(He’s not pointing fingers. It’s just that Stiles sometimes gets fucking tired when the pack does not tell him shit and then he ends up having to figure it all out by himself so they don’t get themselves killed. It wasn’t funny the first time Scott tried it back in sophomore year. It hasn’t gotten any funnier since.)
(Alright, so he is pointing fingers. Sue him.)
Stiles is a demon. And okay, before anyone gets mad and starts saying shit like ‘no he’s not, he’s just a bit chaotic’, he… well, Stiles will admit to being chaotic as a general rule, but that is more of a character choice. He’s being for real when he says he’s a demon.
His parents couldn’t have children. It’s just how it goes sometimes. But Claudia was a very powerful witch, and she knew a thing or two about making pacts with demons. So when the doctors told her she could not carry any children, she figured the next step was obviously to summon a creature from down below and make a deal with it in exchange for a child.
That’s where Stiles comes in.
Claudia probably wasn’t expecting a demon child to come to her when she did her summoning, but personally? Stiles thinks she lucked out. Stiles is a friendly demon, as far as those go, and his policy regarding humans is more ‘see what makes them tick’ rather than ‘make them burst into flames spontaneously’, so all in all, she could have done a lot worse.
So that’s kind of how he ends up as Stiles Stilinski, son of John and Claudia Stilinski. Claudia and John are the only ones that know Stiles’ true name, though only Claudia can say it right. John tries his best, but they all collectively decide that Mischief is a rather good alternative.
In exchange for being the best son anyone could have, Stiles gets to spend an unspecified amount time on the mortal realm. Claudia doesn’t put any restrictions on him, on the understanding that Stiles can’t go and kill people for kicks. Annoying them is fair game, though.
That’s fine. Stiles has never been particularly interested in needless violence. He’d much rather learn everything there is to know about humans. Such interesting creatures. Truly fascinating.
And that’s how he spends the next twelve years of his life. He makes one singular friend - humans tend to get this instinctual need to get away from demons, but Scott doesn’t have any survival instincts at all, so it works out fine - and spends most of his time enjoying the admittedly mundane life of a human child.
Stiles knows there’s a pack of werewolves living in town, but he never runs into them, and then they die in that terribly suspicious fire and the survivors leave. The town quiets down a lot after that, and Stiles tries not to mourn the loss too badly. The energy they gave off was very pleasant.
Then the werewolves come back to town.
Stiles doesn’t intent to get involved. He doesn’t. He’s a demon, he doesn’t care for mortal affairs no matter how amusing they are. So he doesn’t do anything when he feels the presence of an Alpha in Beacon Hills after seven years. A not his circus not his monkeys kinda situation. But then Scott gets turned into a werewolf, and Stiles doesn’t care for mortal affairs but he does care about Scott, so really, it was inevitable.
There’s also Derek Hale. Derek Hale with his lickable abs and his chiseled scowly face and that angryhurtsadmiserable aura of his. Stiles acuses him of murder, Derek shoves him into walls. How is Stiles supposed to not become completely obsessed?
Anyways.
Stiles isn’t sure how he ended up in a pack of werewolves of all things - demons are lonely creatures, they don’t get packs - but he can probably blame Scott for that. It’s pretty alright, even if he gets dragged into every possible supernatural matchup imaginable. At least no one is busting out the holy water. Not that it would work, that’s a myth. Stiles had that phase as a kid where he went to church every Sunday morning and received the sacrament of Eucharist just for kicks. His dad didn’t find it funny, but Stiles still thinks it’s fucking hilarious. Now he uses the name of Jesus Christ every time he can. It’s blasphemous and Stiles thinks it’s hilarious too.
Back to the point, Stiles never bothered to hide he’s a demon. He doesn’t advertise it, of course, but he doesn’t go out of his way to mask his scent or whatever. He’s powerful enough that he can take on mostly anything that comes find him. So he thought Derek knew, and was just being chill about it and not mentioning it.
Apparently not.
The bitten wolves, he could understand. They still mix up deer and rabbit after years of being bitten when they’re running in the preserve. But Derek’s a born wolf. He was trained since he was a kid, and it’s not like demons are hard to sniff out. Hell clings to Stiles like a second skin.
Well, it turns out Derek is the ultimate failwolf, because after four years, he still had no idea. It takes a run in with another demon - this one does like to set humans on fire, unfortunately, so Stiles has to banish it back to Hell - and even then Stiles has to practically spell it out for him. Stiles is only a bit disappointed in him. Mostly, he’s still a bit confused on how Derek even missed it in the first place.
“Dude, can’t you smell it?” he asks, and they’re alone in the loft because everyone else has gone out to buy celebratory donuts while they try to get the scorch marks off Derek’s wall. It’s not going as well as they hoped.
Instead of an answer, or a growl, which is his primary method of communication, Derek does something unexpected and fucking—blushes.
Huh. Okay.
Wait, no. Not okay. What?
“It’s not considered polite to act on the way people smell, Stiles,” and Derek’s voice is strangled, like it hurts him to get the words out. He’s always been bad at talking but Jesus Christ, this is excessive.
(Heh. Jesus Christ. It will never not be funny.)
“That’s bullshit and you know it. I’ve lost count of how many times you’ve sniffed out other supernatural creatures or people’s intentions. It’s what you do. Other than rip out throats and creep around my window, obviously,” Derek’s scowl makes an appearance - there it is, Stiles was getting worried for a second - looking back at the scorched wall like it’s going to magically clean itself with the power of his rage.
Stiles could probably do something like that. Maybe. His magic is chaotic on a good day, so he can’t really call it reliable. Destructive, definitely. Offensive, if he has to pick between that and defense. Stiles is terrible at that.
He’s really getting off track here.
“That’s different. You’re not a supernatural creature,” Derek says stubbornly and what?
“What?”
“What,” it’s impressive how he always manages to ask questions that don’t sound like questions.
“What do you mean, I’m not a supernatural creature? Are you—“ Stiles looks at his Alpha with narrowed eyes, mouth open mid sentence as it finally downs on him that they’re talking about very different things. “What did you think I meant when I asked you if you smelt it?”
Derek stubbornly refuses to say anything. That’s fine. Stiles is the king of stubborn, he can out-stubborn anyone at any given time.
“Tell me,” he presses. Derek doesn’t say anything. “Tell me, tell me, tell me, tell me, tell me, tell—“
“Jesus fuck, Stiles, fine!” heh. Stiles knew he’d break. “I was smelling that you’re horny. All the time.”
That— that’s not what Stiles was expecting. Um. Okay. So things got awkward very fucking quickly.
“Oh,” he says, and now he sounds strangled because he thought he’d kept that little tidbit of information hidden quite nicely. It turns out Derek was just being polite about it.
God, does it mean the betas can smell it too? Oh, no, no no no no.
(Heh. God. Stiles is so funny.)
(He really has to stop unfocusing like this.)
Stiles is officially mortified. Turns out even demons get prudish after spending so much time in the mortal realm. Who knew? It’s okay, Stiles will just find the nearest bridge to throw himself off from. If he has any luck he’ll die instantly and won’t get back to Hell so he doesn’t have to live with this knowledge forever.
“It’s okay. I know it’s not personal or anything,” Derek’s still not looking at him. He’s grabbed back his rag and is valiantly rubbing away at the wall. Stiles doesn’t have the heart to tell him that if the mark hasn’t come out already, it probably never will. He’d know, he’s burned plenty of walls before.
By accident, if his dad ever asks.
“That’s fine and all, only it’s very personal,” and Stiles is just making a bigger hole to bury himself in, but his mouth is faster than his brain. It’s an ongoing issue. “You don’t think I’m horny all the fucking time, right? I mean, demons do have that hyper hormonal stage at my age but assuming it’s all the time is a bit excessive. I’m not a succubus. This is completely a you thing.”
Derek’s face does that thing where it pinches in between his eyebrows and his eyes narrow a bit, lips pressed together tightly. It’s his Stiles Just Said Something Deeply Upsetting face. He uses it a lot.
Alright, time to backtrack.
“It’s really okay that you don’t feel the same. Really, I get it. I wouldn’t feel the same about me either. So let’s just ignore I ever said anything, and we can go back to trying to clean this up even if we both know it’s not going to come out,” he offers Derek his most winning smile. Derek’s face just gets even more pinched.
Stiles’ senses are pretty dulled here on the mortal realm, but he doesn’t need them to know his Alpha is probably very pissed. At him, specifically.
So it’s Tuesday, then.
Stiles takes a step back, just as a precaution. He doesn’t think Derek will throw him against a wall - he stopped doing that a couple of years ago. Stiles refuses to acknowledge he kinda misses it - but you can never be too cautious. And Stiles did kind of just confess his undying horniness for him.
Imagine if he’d also told the guy he’s utterly and helplessly in love with him. That would have gone fantastically. Not.
“You’re a demon?” Derek’s voice comes out more high pitch than Stiles has ever heard it. He’s surprised. Why is he surprised? This is what they were talking about, before Stiles stuck a foot in his mouth. “Since when?”
“Since always? Seriously dude, can’t you smell it?”
It’s like they’re back in square one.
So. Turns out Derek truly had no idea Stiles is a demon. No wonder he’d looked like Stiles had grown a second head when he banished that fiend back to Hell.
On the good side, Derek apparently also returns his feelings, after they go in circles a few more times and Stiles gets across that he’s not just horny, he’s in love. A happy ending, in Stiles’ opinion.
(“How did you end up as the son of the Sheriff anyway? Is he a demon, too?”
“Hmn? Oh, no. My mom just did this summoning ritual for a Prince of Hell to get them a child, and I showed up. It was kind of a two for one deal,” he waves his hand dismissively.
“You’re a what?”
Oh, boy. Stiles knew he was forgetting something.)
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