Please explain Gillians TV guide tweet? I do not understand 😐
The pic was tweeted a few days ago with caption “Will they or won’t they?” And Gillian answered they will! But now no one knows she was talking about xfiles or ghousted? Or maybe gillovny because she tagged David and we have on the pic her and David and not Mulder and Scully. If not Ugly man’s mess that fandom would be on fire right now….
Request: Some Party Poison smut that ends really fluffy?
I tugged the collar of my jacket up my neck as a cold breeze swept across my face. The dessert was a shitty place to live. Hot as hell during the day and bitter cold at night. Normally, I would be in bed right now, trying to get some rest after a day of patrolling. But, Party dragged me out here, claiming it was a view to die for and I had to see it. Party was my best friend. I deeply loved all of my fellow killjoys, but Party and I just seemed to click in a way that I couldn’t do with anyone else. Ghoul once told me that in these situations, you need a rock-something that can keep you grounded and make you feel at home despite all the shit going on. Party was definitely mine. My feelings for him were way deeper than friendship though. I first realized it when he got shot in the shoulder while on a supply run by himself, trying to barter some medicine for me when I got the flu. My connection to him grew that week when we were both bed ridden, him holding my hair back when I couldn’t hold food down and holding his hand when Jet had to clean out his wound. You could say I was practically head over heels for the red headed killjoy. “Isn’t this view jazzy?” Party look over at me, the moonlight shining onto his face.
“Pretty jazzy,” I agreed, sitting up on the hood of the Trans Am to get a better look at Battery City. “You can practically see the electricity surrounding Battery City from here…” I mumbled in astonishment.
“I know, and here we are building make-shift generators out of Power Pup cans to heat up a cup of coffee. God I would kill to get my hands on one those fancy espressos they got.”
“How do you know they got ‘em?”
“I could smell it on the S/C/A/R/E/C/R/O/W patrol yesterday. Fuck, I miss coffee.”
“Speaking of yesterday, please be more careful.”
“Careful? About what?” He questioned, leaning back on his elbows.
“You charged two dracs with an empty ray gun, Party.”
“What’s wrong with a little melee? I took ‘em both down without a scratch.” My jaw clenched in frustration. Party was a great guy, but god he was an arrogant son of a bitch when it came to his skill.
“You could have been ghousted? Don’t you care? Don’t you want to see another day?”
“Of course I do! B.L.I will only listen to body counts and bullet holes y/n! This is how I we make a difference!”
“By dusting dracs out on the zones? Party, we have an opportunity to actually defeat B.L.I for good and free the zones! We need to stop wasting our lives patrolling borders and go out and make a differen-” He smashed his lips against mine. His chapped lips crushed mine, biting and sucking on them harshly. He quickly pinned me on the hood of the car, nestling in between my waist. I moaned and clawed at his Dead Pegasus jacket, digging my nails in the cool leather. The kiss deepened as he shoved his tongue in my mouth, sucking on my tongue. The kiss was hard and angry, our sexual tension and built up rage boiling over. His hands slipped under my shirt, kneading my breasts with his icy cold fingers. I cold feel his hard on rub against my inner thigh, both of us aching with want.
“Fuck y/n I want you so bad.”
“Party please, do something.”
“You sure? I like it rough baby.”
“So do I.” He smirked and got off of me, opening the back door to the Trans Am, holding it open widely and gesturing for me to get in. “M’ lady,” he beamed, imitating a fancy twenties accent.
“Why thank you sir,” I curtsied, scooting over to the the last seat to give Party room. He closed the door behind him and hit the power button on the radio. Black Dragon Fighting Society blared through the speakers, the gang have had this track on loop for weeks. His hands flew to my shirt, pulling the bright fabric over my head and flinging it somewhere in the front seat. I did the same to him, pulling off his jacket and “Keep Smiling” shirt. I laid back, supporting my head against the door as he hovered over me. His attacked my neck, leaving as many hickeys as possible as he slammed into me. He gave me no time to adjust pounding into me hard, still nipping at my collarbone. I groaned and dug my nails into his toned shoulders. His thrusts were already loosing rhythm. Neither of us could last much longer, with years of sexual frustration, the raw pleasure was already too much for both of us.
“Fuck baby, i’m so close,” he growled in my ear. I screamed his name when his thumb pressed sharply on my clit, sending me over the edge. He groaned into my ear before slamming into me deeply. He rocked his hips, dragging out our climaxes as long as possible. He looked at me, blazing red hair sticking out from all sides, his bangs beginning to curl upwards like when his hair got wet. He flashed a lopsided grin and kissed me again, slowly and passionately this time. ”That’s the first time I’ve felt alive in years.”
The 2ps hear a woman singing in different languages. Switching from like, Englis, to Germa, to Italian, to Japanese. It's coming somewhere in the house but they don't know where. Then they go into their little sisters room (she's like 6) and she's the 'woman' that was singing in different languages. How would they react?
2p France: He shrugs and treats it like all his other problems. Ignoring it alllll.
2p England: He’s already wearing a priests robe and holding a cross.
2p America: He kinda investigates it, keeps an ear out for the voice.
2p Canada: Now it all makes sense. He always wondered why Kuma would growl and be angry in certain parts of the house. Now he knows.
2p China: “Mmmm no. No thank you.” And walked out of the house forever.
2p Russia: *Looks at a certain spot in the room like he’s on The Office and he’s looking into the camera.“
2p Italy: He’s saying prayers every time he goes into the house.
2p Germany: HE AIN’T AFRAID OF NO GHOUST!
2p Japan: He already lets his foot hang off the side of his bed. He doesn’t care. End his life and drag him to the fiery pits of hell, for he has already not given a shit.
2p Prussia: Even though he is sometimes smol and shy, every time he gets scared in the house he’s like "No, this is my house! COME THE FUCK AT ME YOU LITTLE CUNT!” And yeah. It’s a pretty great copping mechanism tbh.
2p Romano: “OH HELL NO. IM GOING TO THE CHAPEL!” Grabbed the little sis “YOU ARE GETTING BAPTIZED!!!”