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moonstruckme · 9 days

Note

hi! What about a fic if one of the Mauraders or TASM peter with a reader who's insecure about her big boobs? Like ik everyone thinks it's ideal but honestly sometimes it really sucks when shirts don't fit right or everything looks slutty or u can't go braless or alternatively a fic about their gf overhearing someone say they r an ass man but she has a small butt?

Thank you for requesting!

cw: insecurity around breast size

tasm!Peter Parker x fem!reader ♡ 1k words

You’re looking in the mirror, and you want to feel good about yourself. Really, everything looks the way it should. Your hair looks better than it would on an average day, that new eyeshadow thing you tried actually turned out nicely, and your dress fits the way it’s supposed to.

Just, the way it’s supposed to fit doesn’t really seem right to you at the moment.

“Peter,” you call in the direction of the bathroom, “if I ask you about something, can you promise to be honest with me?”

You hear water splash in the shower, signaling your boyfriend is finally rinsing out his hair. In classic Peter fashion, he seems like he’s going to be late to his own banquet. Oscorp is having a formal event to recognize the achievements of their scientists this year. Peter’s done even more than most, and he’s expected to give a speech before the food comes out which you’ll be lucky to make at this rate. You were supposed to get ready together, but he’d spent the majority of the time flirting with you while you did your makeup in your pajamas.

“Duh, I’m always honest,” he calls back. The shower shuts off. “That’s why they call me your friendly, honest, neighborhood spider-man.” A pause. You wonder if he can sense the dry look you’re sending his way. “Fine, but I’m always honest with you. Shoot, sweetheart.”

“Okay.” You give yourself one final, disappointed look-over in the mirror before heading towards the bathroom door. “I’m serious, don’t sugarcoat anything, but do you think—”

The door swings open, and Peter’s right in front of you, beads of water still visible on his torso and a towel wrapped around his waist.

“—this is too slutty?” you finish, quieter, right as he blurts, “Oh my god.”

Peter blinks. His head does a tiny shake, as if trying to rid himself of a dizzy spell. “What?” he asks.

Probably not your best phrasing. “I just mean, is it too booby,” you try again. You have the urge to tuck your arms around your middle self-consciously, but you worry that would only make the boob predicament worse.

“Baby.” Peter’s still looking at you like you’re speaking another language. “What?”

You look down at your highly visible cleavage, then back up at him. “You know what I mean,” you say softly.

“Okay, speaking from a strictly male standpoint,” Peter says, unabashed as his eyes dip to where yours just where, “I can’t condone the idea that there is such a thing as too booby. But even if I was, like, a ninety-five year old conservative woman, I couldn’t—I would still think you look beautiful.”

Your heart balloons. It’s not a compliment you got much before you met Peter. Hot, sexy, sure, but not beautiful.

“God.” The word slips from your boyfriend’s mouth so softly it almost sounds like a prayer. His hands find your waist, skimming down the satiny material of your dress to rest on your hips. “You’re amazing, sweetheart. Is that the eyeshadow trick you were talking about?”

You nod, cheeks burning. “You watched me do it.”

“It looks different with the dress on,” he agrees. “Fuck. Not to be corny, but you’re seriously taking my breath away. I can’t breathe right now.”

A little laugh stutters out of you, and Peter smiles. He’s looking rather breathtaking himself, fresh-faced from the shower with a piece of damp hair still clinging to his forehead. You unstick it and comb it back in with the others already fluffed up after being toweled off. He smells like his shampoo.

“Can I kiss you,” he asks, “or will I mess up your makeup?”

“Be careful,” you warn, smiling as you lean in.

He is, but his hands give away his hunger, bunching in the fabric at the base of your spine to get you closer. He makes a low, needy sound in the back of his throat, and for half a second you wonder if it’s for your benefit but then you remember that he was right earlier. Peter is always honest with you.

You laugh when you pull away, going to get a bit of tissue paper to blot away the lipstick you’ve left on him. A glance in the bathroom mirror shows that yours is, thankfully, intact.

“Are you sure this dress will be appropriate?” you ask, less insecure now but still nervous as you wipe at Peter’s upper lip. “Regardless of how much you like it, it’s still a formal thing and I don’t want to be…indecent.” You cringe. There’s no word that sounds nice.

Your boyfriend’s brows furrow. His hands skim up your arms, and he looks like he’s about to reply when you fold the toilet paper and stick it between his lips. “Blot,” you murmur.

He does. “Baby.” He squeezes your upper arms, a silent request for you to look up at his eyes. You find them soft and earnest. “There’s nothing inappropriate about what you’re wearing. It is a formal thing, and you’re wearing a formal dress. You look beautiful.” That word again. Your cheeks burn. Peter kisses one of them. “No one is going to have anything to say about how you look other than how beautiful you are,” he promises.

You let the sincerity of his words seep into you, pooling like a warm drink in your belly. The inside of your lip finds its way between your teeth. Now you’re feeling bashful for other reasons.

It’s obvious by Peter’s grin that he can tell. He gives your arms another squeeze before moving you out of the way and going to where his clothes are laid out on the bed.

“Actually, that’s pretty convenient for me.” He discards the towel on the floor, slipping on a pair of boxers and then starting to button up his dress shirt. “You’ve just taken a whole bunch of pressure off my speech, sweetheart. No way anyone’s gonna be looking at me while I’m up there.”

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rainybubbles · 1 year

Text

How do COD men confess to you ?

Ghost, Soap, Price, Gaz, Alejandro

If you want more context here the part 1, and 2

G H O S T :

-At the end of your shift, he was waiting for you.

-And Max.

-Because Max was a cute puppy who stole his heart, but he would never tell a soul.

So yeah every day he wasn't on mission. He knew that at 10 pm, he will be at this little pet shop.

-Because he loved how your smile was appearing when you recognized him.

-He loved how you still joked about the ropes he bought or even how when he walked you back home, you were trying to go out of your way to make this walk longer by taking him to the little restaurant.

-This little restaurant, that you chose on purpose, because it has 4 fire escapes, and a perfect view on the outside.

-You knew him.

-And you didn't step back.

-Well in fact you didn't step back when he was just a creepy man who bought ropes at 3 AM, so he -sincerely doubts about your survival instinct.

-So yeah...

-But how did he confess, you're asking me ?

-Well, he didn't.

-Ghost has too many issues to open his heart like this.

-So you decided to make a moove.

-A classic move with a little declaration and a gift.

-Yeah.

-So you bought rope.

-Yeah.

-I know this doesn't sound good.

-It sounds even like the beginning of a horror story but wait.

-You decided to send him a package.

-And in this package you will put a rope tied in a heart form with a letter.

-Telling he took you heart in hostage and you would like him to keep it.

-...

-Seems weird, but it kinda fit your meeting, so it seems like a cute idea.

-Until three months passed and you had no news.

-Not even a letter.

-You didn't panic because sometimes his job was like this, he told you.

-But the problem was you had to move out.

-And even if he had your number, Ghost changed his phone regularly to prevent from some undercover shit.

-Besides your job at the pet shop, he couldn't contact you.

-So you tried to ignore your removal.

-But at the end of the fourth month, you had to admit this relationship will never had an end.

-And you mooved out of the country.

-A bittersweet ending.

-You felt like you were reading a fluff story but forgot to read the tag "hurt/no comfort".

-Shit.

-Maybe next time you should read the tag of your fucking love life.

-Like "a rope man will steal your heart" "angst" "sad ending" "slow burn" "fucking weird story" "not a happy fidelity card guy" "maybe he was into bondage but guess what ? We will never know lol"

-Maybe you were crying when you saw a rope in a DIY shop after this.

-Or not.

-Your dignity and ego will never recover from this memory. (neither did the sales assistant who was just here trying to help you)

-So you tried watching around, maybe the destiny would help you.

-Maybe a tall masked man will appear at your door at 2 PM, under the rain saying he has always loved you and....

-And you don't open the door for your own mom because you're too scared that she could be someone pretending she's your mom so you hoped he wouldn't do this.

-Yet two months after your removal, you had a call from your previous boss.

-You usually avoid calls, but you knew he wouldn't call you if it wasn't important.

-So you answered and...

-He was telling you a package with your name was delivered to him.

-And when you asked what was in it.

-He answered.

-"A fidelity card for rope, with a yes on it."

-You never smiled that hard.

-(Ghost found your new contacts thanks to Lasswell later, to confirm you both confessed to each other.)

S O A P :

-You had kept in touch.

-Through letters and some texts, when Soap was allowed to send them, you started to have a great friendship.

-But lately in the memes that Soap sent to you, you found a lot of references to the French girls in general.

-Firstly you didn't pay attention.

-Until that night.

-When you saw Titanic again with your parents.

-And it clicked.

-The French girls scene !

-By you stopped.

-Why would Soap make implicit reference to this ?

-Then again you remembered his drawings.

-He sent you some of them in his letters.

-When you get back to your home, you gathered them, looking if maybe he had made a portrait of you or had made a joke that you didn't see.

-But it was just random sketches.

-You stared at Ghost sketch eating an ice cream when you noticed something on his mask.

-He had a "W" on it.

-You searched through the sketches and...

-"U to the mow, I go you will" you said out loud after collecting the letters and tried to figure out what he wanted to say.

-And you tried to understand it.

-But except this fucking "mow" and "will"

-You didn't find any coherence in it.

-Did he want to ask you to mow his lawn in his garden ?

-But he didn't have a garden.

-And why a "U" and then a "You".

-Why, why Soap would even do this ?

-He was not the kinda guy that do this.

-"...I think I'm too stupid to find out this shit." you admitted.

-Well maybe your French girls scenes will not be romantic.

-So you texted him saying, you understood he sent you a message.

-But you didn't find how to translate it.

-And he texted you the answer.

-"Will you go out with me ?"

-...

-"Did Price give you the idea Soap ?" you answered.

-"Wait, you didn't answer."

-"Did Price give you the idea ?"

-"You think I couldn't be a romantic, love ?"

-"I think we're both too stupid to create a thing like this, love."

-"... it was L.T"

-"he...Ghost ?"

-"Yes."

-"...did he love titanic ?"

-"he had a collection about it."

-"...wow."

-"yeah."

-"To answer, yes, I would love too. But never ask again advice from Ghost, I don't want to end on an iceberg."

-"Yes, love."

P R I C E :

-Soap and Gaz with a broken arm led to your confession.

-They were both drunk and knew their captain had a thing for you, and it was reciprocated.

-Especially after Price offered you some chocolates to make clear he was interested in you.

-But nothing was happening.

-So with some scotch, and very bad ideas, Gaz and Soap decided that their time to shine had coming.

-They were the Cupids of the base.

-And what had Cupid ?

-Wings.

-If they used their wings to bring you from your office to Price at the bar, then he would be happy and more relaxed in this context, and maybe he will confess.

-Yes.

-Except.

-They didn't have wings.

-So when they jumped out from the roof.

-Their arms broke.

-And who was the doctor at the base ?

-You.

-You didn't go out because you were busy to treat their arms.

-"Maybe we need some bows next time." Soap whispered but it was more like he shouted in Gaz's ears.

-"And some white underwears! Cupid has that. I'm sure if we wore this, it will work for sure." Gaz answered.

-"And what about not jumping from the roof and not drinking that much, hmm ?" you asked.

-"Sssshhhh, we're in a confession plan right now. You can't stop us." Gaz said trying to put his finger on your mouth but ended up to do it on the wall next to you.

-"I'm calling Price to take you back to your bed, you're both too heavy for me."

-"We could walk."

-"It's not walking the problem Soap. It's where you could go."

-"hmm."

-So you called Price.

-The problem was he asked you why.

-Why did the boys jump out from the roof ?

-You blinked.

-He would know when he would come here.

-So you decided to gather some courage and-

-"They try to make us confess by bringing me to the bar with you. But they believe they were angels and could fly."

-The silence was so loud.

-He hung up.

-You sighed.

-Well at least, you said it.

-You didn't expect a yes, but at least an answer would be the minimum.

-When later, you heard a knock, you didn't make the effort to look up.

-You heard Price taking the boys to their beds and the door closing.

-But few minutes later, you heard a knock.

-Surprised, you stood up.

-Maybe someone else has drunk too much and-

-"John." You said surprised.

-"I intend to ask you out with some roses, and tomorrow but I guess two drunk soldiers with broken arms beat me."

-"The experienced strategist beat up ?" you joked.

-"I guess so. I'm sorry it was done like this, love."

-"I don't care honestly. As long as it's you asking me."

-He smiled and took your hand slowly.

-"Well, I can't wait for our first date, then."

-"'Hope Soap and Gaz will not be there."

-He laughed.

-"I can't promise that." he smiled.

G A Z :

-A meme.

-He sent you a meme.

-To confess.

-But you never answered him.

-And when he saw you, you never talked about it.

-So...he understood he was rejected.

-And he was okay with that, hell it was normal.

-He just thought it was reciprocated because you had what seems like dates with him.

-Maybe he mixed up signals.

-So he just never talked about it again, because he didn't want to make you feel awkward.

-But one day during lunch, he heard Soap talking with you.

-"So you got a new one, uh ?" Soap asked.

-"I didn't have the choice. His ass fucking destroyed the previous one."

-Gaz stared at the floor.

-He didn't know you had someone.

-Maybe that was because you never-

-"L.T has a cake, that's for sure." Soap joked.

-Gaz suffocated.

-You-

-And Ghost-

-And Ghost's ass-

-"That's not funny Soap. He fucking destroyed my phone just by sitting on it. It's not a cake. It's a fucking breeze block at this point."

-Your...

-Oh.

-oh.

-FUCK.

-He realized.

-You didn't ignore him.

-You hadn't see his message.

-"How does it happen ?" he asked to be sure of his conclusion.

-"I just let my phone on a bench, and he sat without looking, that's it. But because his ass is apparently more solid that my relationship with my father, or even the fucking Vivelle dop gel, he broke it."

-"Fuckin' hell". Gaz said

-"You can say that again. Why are you asking, by the way ?"

-"I sent you a text and you never answer, so I was wondering why."

-"Now you know. But I will answer, I manage to transfer my data and texts on my new phone."

-Gaz didn't feel well now.

-Soap was here.

-And your phone in your hand.

-Meaning he will see your reaction in live and with a public.

-Like he was on the set of a TV show. But here he could gain your heart and not $100,000.

-But you didn't say anything, neither did open it.

-You just sit and talked with him and Soap like it was not important.

-Because of course you couldn't know what was his text.

-So he waited.

-All the day, for you to open this fucking meme.

-To see it.

-And at midnight.

-He received a Mister Worlwide saying yes.

-Never he was so happy to see this bald head

A L E J A N D R O :

-He had everything planned.

-The moment, the place.

-It was going to be a big thing.

-He talked Rudy about it and even the 1-4-1 during a mission.

-Because Soap teased him about you.

-So he explained how he was going to ask you out and-

-Laswell stopped him.

-Their communications were not over.

-She heard everything

-And when Laswell ordered you to tell the location to Price

-He understood you were on their mission as a technician, and you heard all of it.

-The only thing that could kill Alejandro is Alejandro after all, right ?

-Even when it was dying of embarrassment.

-He mumbled some insults in Spanish and tried to hold his head high.

-He had everything planned, and just a microphone ruined this ?

-No,no, no, no he refused.

-He met you because of those mics, how they dare to betray him like that ?

-He ignored this and finished the mission.

-But on the way back, he heard your voice.

-"Good job guys. By the way I would love going on a date with you, Ale. If you needed to know after...this."

-You know the smile he did, when they interrogate Valeria ?

-It was one hundred brighter right now in the car.

-Soap even wore sunglasses to protect his eyes.

-Alejandro was so fucking happy.

-Maybe he did not hate the mics.

-Even though he's persuaded that someone hacked them this particular day.

___

If you want more : here.

I'm sorry that it took so long to post this part, but when I posted another COD about how you meet Farah, Alex and Konig I had a comment saying it was shit.

And I know my English sucks, so I deleted it and hesitated to write again..

Maybe I need some readers to help me, or maybe this comment was just hateful, I don't know.

In any case, sorry for the mistakes, English is not my first language !

#call of duty x reader #ghost x reader #captain price x reader #alejandro vargas x reader #gaz x reader #kyle gaz garrick x reader #soap x reader #cod x reader

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coralinnii · 2 years

Text

If you’re a villain, then let me be your accomplice

feat: Kalim genre: romance note: sequel to "being reincarnated into a new world as the bad guy", short mentions of d*ath, shorts mentions of small cuts and blood, roughly 1.4k words

series masterlist

Ever since the arrest of the traitorous family member, most of your worries dissipated and you’re able to focus on things that don't include your imminent death. Due to your interference, the story has changed somewhat and now you’re wondering how you could bring it back on track.

Aside from your young death, the story was a classic "prince and the pauper" story where Kalim, the male lead, met a poor woman who was an assistant to a doctor that was called as the family’s last desperate attempt to cure their son. The two of them were to fall in love and fight through the battle against social classes to be together.

You could imagine Kalim being the type to love regardless of background. Even with you, a mere servant, he showed such care and gentleness that left you flustered and in awe of this man’s heart. So, in order to help achieve his happy ending, you started to plan how to create the fated encounter.

Admittedly, you had your own hidden agenda as well. You had enough awareness that you were starting to get too comfortable in the sweet man’s presence. The scarlet-eyed heir was easy to love and if this were to go on any further, you fear your feelings will reach a point of no return.

You ignored your younger brother's insistence that the rich heir shared your feelings

“He likes you, everyone can see it!”

“Master Kalim is kind to everyone, that’s just how he is”

You had to bury such hopes.

So, you have to act fast before your foolish heart does something you would regret. You have secretly investigated the clinics and doctors in the town in search of one with a particular staff member. And once you did, you got into action.

Kalim was surprised to hear you suggest a stroll around the village market. Usually he would be the one to initiate such an adventure but he immediately agreed, excited to go down into town with you.

On the day of the town visit, Kalim was on cloud nine. He happily strolled down the streets of the village, gazing at the crafts and dishes the stalls have to offer. He swung his hands that was clasped with yours, as you decided leaving him to wander un-tethered is not a good idea (you had such a scolding from Jamil last time).

Recognizing the route the two of you were on, you knew the clinic of the doctor (and the assistant) were nearby so you initiated your plan.

You saw a wooden stall in your path. Gritting your teeth, you pretended to trip and harshly slammed your arm against the side of the stall, causing a fairly nasty wound on your arm.

Kalim yelled out in shock, quickly reaching your arm to cradle it in his hands. His ruby eyes looked like it was brimming with tears, ready to cry at your misfortune. He hurriedly asked the stall owner if there was a doctor nearby and to your luck, you two were told of the clinic, the one you planned for.

What you didn’t plan was for Kalim to suddenly crouch down and effortlessly scoop you up off your feet, craddling you as he swiftly moved between the crowd. His tan arms felt so secure around you that you never felt safer than here in his arms. You never questioned his physical strength but this was not something you ever expected of him.

“Master Kalim, I can walk!”

“This is faster!”

Finally, the two of you reached the clinic, and you two faced the doctor’s assistant who saw a flustered you with a bleeding arm, and a crazed nobleman in cold sweat. You had to physically stop Kalim from frantically screaming to the doctor as though you were dying. Dying from embarrassment, maybe.

You made sure to time your appointment when the doctor was out to buy supplies leaving the assistant, Kalim's love interest, to meet you and Kalim. Now, you expect for sparks to fly and hearts to beat faster the moment they look into each other’s eyes.

If the love interest would actually look at Kalim, that is!

“Thankfully, it wasn't too deep so you’ll be alright” the assistant smiled once she ties the end of your bandage. You give your thanks, testing the tightness of the gauze on your arm.

“Thanks so much, doctor!” Kalim exclaimed, tears in his eyes as he held your injured arm gently. From an outside perspective, someone would assume the noble heir was the injured patient with the way he treats your injury like his own. He looks to the love interest and smiled graciously. “What more could I do to repay you?”

But the woman quickly turns to avoid his gaze. “It’s nothing. I’m just did what I can”

“Still, I’m grateful!” he grined in gratitude before refocusing his attention to you. “Are you ok? Do you need anything?”

You smiled before you could stop yourself and shook your head. “I’m perfectly fine. You worry for nothing”

“But you lost some blood, you should re-hydrate to make up for it. I’ll get something to drink!”

“Master Kalim, that’s unnecessary… he’s gone” a sigh left your lips when you saw Kalim rush out in a flash. You worry that he might tackle down someone at that speed.

At least this gives you time with the assistant and Kalim’s fated one. You put on a smile before speaking

“My master is a very kind man, isn’t he?” you started off.

“He is… a good person, yes” the woman responded back, but the tenseness in her tone is noticeable.

“He’s definitely the type to treat his partner very well” you paused before frantically correcting yourself “Not that he has one right now! He’s very much single, not that there’s a reason for that! It’s just he hasn't found interest in anyone, but he’s not averse to relationships, not at all!”

Mortified by your fumbling words, you prayed that Kalim’s to-be is not too turned off. You nervously watched her and waited for any sort of comments or thoughts.

“Look,” the woman sighed, “Sir Kalim seems like a great person and I’m sure anyone would feel loved with a man like him”

“Yes, yes! You understand!”

“But,” she cut your thoughts off. “The Asim family is the center of the world of nobility, an environment that commoners such as you or me can’t possibly survive in. The members of that society themselves cannot live in peace”

Her words and tone…they speak of a truth you were well aware of as both the servant living in that society and as a reincarnator that foresaw the difficulties the Asim family will face. The way she speaks is as though she faced these struggles herself but that couldn’t be, this character was written with a background of common ancestry.

“It couldn’t be…Is it possible that she may be…”

“No man is worth the struggles, not even Kalim of the esteemed Asim family”

“You’re wrong!”

You screamed, jumping from your seat without a second thought. It was true how cruel the noble society was, to both born and associated with it. You knew the stories of manipulation, betrayal, and bloodshed and your soul quivers in fear that someone may do away with you at any moment.

You knew it all to be true, but still!

“Master Kalim is worth any adversity, always!” you spoke fervently, your voice the loudest it’s ever been the entire day. “He is so kind, much kinder than anyone I have ever met or will ever meet. His smile lights up the manor and warms his people like rays of the morning sun. He watches over all of his siblings with such affection, never complaining even when he’s tired. He treats everyone with respect regardless of our class or race, and he’s so forgiving and supportive of the new servants. No hardship is too much if it’s for him!”

Your breath ran ragged, your body taking its time to calm down after shaking from your indignation. No matter how many lives you end up going through, you're confident that Kalim was the kindest man in all reality, and such a man is definitely worth struggling for.

The love interest stood in her spot, silent with wide eyes as she watched you pour out your dedication.

But she wasn’t the only one surprised by you.

Behind the closed door was Kalim, with one hand that hovered above the doorknob while the other held a large pitcher of water he bought from a nearby restaurant. Kalim turned speechless, a rarity for him. He could feel and hear his heart beating hard against his chest, his face and ears burning despite being shaded from the harsh noon heat. He’s not a stranger to compliments since his family and servants are quick to praise him but how is it that yours seem to resonate so deeply into his soul, your words felt like it was being tattooed onto his racing heart?

Kalim is always happy when he’s with you, but this time his happiness feels so different. He didn’t understand the feeling of joy spreading throughout in his body but he doesn’t hate it, not at all.

“What’s happening to me?”

#twisted wonderland x reader #twst #twst x reader #twisted wonderland #twst headcanons #twst scenarios #twisted wonderland imagines #twisted wonderland headcanons #kalim al asim #kalim x reader #villainess au

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mirrored-movements · 1 year

Text

Go with the Flow

(Miguel O'Hara x Reader)

Synopsis: What happens when you're stuck in another dimension with someone calling you their mom and someone else calling you their wife? You certainly recognized him- but he wasn't your Miguel.

Warnings: None, honestly had no clue where this was going Tbh

Getting spit out of the portal in some random alleyway wasn’t exactly ideal-but worse things have happened, such as the damage done to your dimensional travel watch.

For them being designed by scientists they weren’t as durable as you’d hoped, the item currently glitching out hindering your ability to open a portal and or contact anyone.

Great.

With a disgruntled sigh your mask deactivated, the nanotech retreating away. The rest of your suit quickly shifted into civilian clothes, your fingers still trying feebaly to activate something.

At least you weren’t glitching out. That was the only plus side you could see at the moment besides having been thrown into a vacant alleyway- you didn’t even know what dimension you’d landed in.

Grumbling some more under your breath you turned on your heel, regardless of whether or not you were stranded there had to be something you could do- to either get back or get into contact with someone who could then possibly bring you back.

Stepping out of the alleyway your eyes took in the city; it was reminiscent of classic New York, no flying cars, futuristic outfits, people looked relatively normal- you’d say you ended up somewhere similar to Peters or Gwens dimension.

Continuing to wonder around you’d occasionally peer down at your watch, hope flickering like a flame whenever a phantom vibration happened only for that feeling to become snuffed out as nothing new flashed across the screen.

It was times like this where you’d regretted not asking to partner up- especially when there were a few who’d often offer their assistance.

You could handle it, was always the answer you gave then.

So much for that.

Not only was there an anomaly running around in some other dimension but you were stuck here, for an undefined amount of time.

Lovely.

Finding yourself coming across a store that sold TV’s your eyes scanned across the lit screen, the news currently covering what was described as ‘a vigilante hero’- or what you were more familiar with, ‘a spider variant.’

Who it was? You dodn’t know, nor did you recognize leading you to assume they weren’t appart of the spider-society- little bit of a bummer there seeing as you couldn’t just find them for help. Not like you knew where they were anyways.

The hairs on the back of your neck raised.

“Mom!” Your head twisted to the side at the sound of a childs voice, heart skipping a beat for a second as a small form quickly bounded your way. The little girls arms quickly moving to wind around you all the while her face pressed into the stomach of your sweater. “We thought you were working today?”

Her head tilted up, (E/C) hues staring wonderously up at you while unruly brown locks surrounded her tanned face. There was something about her that had your brain buzzing, something familiar yet unfamiliar at the same time.

Hovering your hands over the girls back you felt unsure of what to do; clearly there was a variant of yourself in this dimension that had a kid and now that kid is currently mistaking you for them.

“Uh I was, but they let me off early.” Finally deciding to speak you let out an awkward laugh, one hand moving to pat the girls shoulder gently.

Her expression seemed to lighten up at your words, the little girl beginning to bounce in place nearly shaking you back and forth from the motion. “Really? Then that means you can come to the part with us!”

Us?

“Ella, give your mom some space.”

Your head tilted up at the new yet familiar voice, eyes following the tall frame of a familiar brunette. His frame dawned a simple pair of jeans and hoodie, eyes appearing more brown than the wine tinted ones you were usually familiar with; extended canines missing from the mans smile.

Your heart fluttered lightly, mind almost mistaking this man as the one you were close with- however that was anything but the truth.

He was Miguel but he wasn’t the Miguel you knew.

The girl, or Ella as you’ve come to learn her name pulled away. Lips still pulled into a gleeful smile as she instead moved to grasp your hand in her own. The action just as quick as the man nearing enough to throw an arm over your shoulder, lips pressing a quick peck to your cheek despite the clear way your shoulder’s tensed up.

Noting this he passed you a worries glance, hand squeezing your shoulder softly in an almost reassuring manner, gradually pulling you and Ella along the sidewalk. “Everything alright at work mi vida?”

Swallowing down the butterflies that quickly flittered about within your stomach you reminded yourself that this was your variants life, this was a different dimension and everyone here was a different variant.

Willing yourself to smile you glanced towards him, “Just the usual, coworkers and the system and stuff.” Beginning with that you added on quickly trying to figure out what the other ‘you’ would answer with- or rather what was something generic enough that it could fly beneath anyones radar. “The coffee machine was down so I’m a bit tired.”

His head tilted at this, mouth opening. “But you don’t like coffee?”

Shit.

“Oh well I mean my coworkers were upset about it so I had to deal with a lot of cranky people,” You forced a laugh, “You know how some people can be without their caffeine.”

“Dad’s cranky without coffee.” Piping in from where she stood beside you Ella let out a laugh, her mind presumably associating that thought with another. “Remember when you hid all the coffee when he forgot your birthday? That was so funny.”

“I didn’t forget it,” His arm dropped from your shoulder and instead tenderly held your other hand. “I was just planning a surprise party.”

Ella didn’t seem to believe it and just stuck out her tongue, the man doing the same.

It was strange really; this wasn’t your dimension and despite how close you felt with your Miguel- this one wasn’t yours, and Ella wasn’t your child. However at the moment, you felt a little obligated to act along- for the sake of your own variant of course.

“And how did that surprise party go?”

Lighting up at the tone you’d used Ella giggled. “Bad! Super bad!”

“It wasn’t!” He tried to defend himself quickly but at the insistence of his daughter and the tender smile that crept across your face he yielded quickly. Just simply shaking his head with a gentle laugh.

After a little more banter- some you tried to join in on- you all eventually arrived at the park, quickly finding yourself pushing Ella on one of the swings. The other Miguel watching from the side as he leaned against the structures support beams.

Sparing him a quick glance your eyes snapped away at the payful wink he’d given you- your Miguel would rather roll his eyes than wink if you so much as breathed in his direction. Albeit he was still kind but in a tough love kind of sense.

Ending up spending awhile at the park playing various little games, you began to dread the next one. Especially considering it was apparently something that the other ‘you’ had made up and it’d be a major red flag if the current you didn’t remember it.

However your saving grace came in the form of the other Miguel’s phone ringing, his lips downturning softly before curling back up. “Looks like work needs me.” His tone was apologetic, arms coming right away to give Ella a quick hug as she ran over. His attention moving onto you as you neared, the mans arms enveloping you much like he had with his daughter.

There was an unfamiliarity to the action, but you just patted the back of his sweater lightly hoping that that’d suffice. “I should be back home in the morning. Okay mi vita?”

“Yeah that’s fine, do what you need to do.” A boxy smile had come to rest across your lips, cheeks heating up as he once again gave them a quick peck following it up with an adoring smile.

He must really love the ‘you’ of this world.

“Be good for mom,” Patting Ella’s head he ruffled her hair quickly, adding on once more before walking off. “Stinker.”

Right away calling out playful insults in response the little girl shook her head, attention moving back to you while she began insisting that you push her on the swings a few more times before leaving.

Now, you would have been fine watching over Ella for an hour or so by yourself, but having to find ‘your’ house? That was a much much different story- it was like a needle in a haystack and the only way you did end up finding the place was because you turned it into a game, having the small girl guide you the entire way there- as well as unlock the front door via a keypad.

“You’re so funny mom.” Watching you open and close all the cabinets Ella let out a laugh, the bowl of mac’n cheese sitting before her was left untouched as you searched through the kitchen for where the cutlery was stored.

Finally finding where it was kept you gave yourself a mental high-five, handing over the girls desired utensil before leaning back against the counter.

Being a fake mom was hard.

Trying to take a moment to compose yourself your ears picked up the sound of the front door opening, heart rate picking up a little at the prospect of it being your other variant however when another figure stepped in did you pause.

“Dad’s back!” Sliding off of the stood she sat on Ella right away bolted towards the man, her small arms wrapping around him quickly.

However much like you had earlier in the day, he didn’t return it right away. Instead his gaze flickered up to you, (E/C) hues meeting with wine tinted hues.

Your heart fluttered.

“Yeah I’m back kiddo,” His eyes drifted back down to the girl then back up to you as if trying to signify an unspoken question.

Pushing away from the counter seeing that Ella had released the man you couldn’t help but give him a hug of your own- but in relief and to keep up the act for her. “How was work? Didn’t seem like they needed you for that long?”

Picking up on the implication Miguel allowed his own arms to wrap around you, “It was just for a bit, but I might have to head back soon.”

Nodding to signify your understanding you both parted from the intimate gesture; Ella right away making it apparent on what time it was with a loud yawn.

“Looks like somebody’s tired.”

“No I’m-” Her defense was interrupted by another yawn, you right away taking this as your chance to bring her towards where you discovered her room was earlier. “Wait, I want dad to tuck me in today.”

At the mention of that your head turned back towards where Miguel stood stiffly, his mouth opening to decline before seeing the way you stared.

Sucking in a breath he moved to take the small girls shoulder from you, the facade of a caring parent taking over as he’d disappeared into the hallway. “Right of course, lets get you to bed then.”

Now knowing that this was the Miguel you knew, you waited anxiously for his return to the livingroom. You almost instinctually coming to hug the man once again as he emerged from the hallway minutes later.

“It’s so good to see an actual familiar face- you wouldn’t believe the day I had.” Muffling that out into the shirt of his civilian clothes you basked in his presence for a second, mind somehow blocking out the embarrassment until you’d pulled away. An apologetic yet flustered smile made it’s way onto your lips. “Uh sorry about that.”

“Don’t be,” Shaking his head while saying that he took in a breath. “I’m glad youre alright,” Holding out a hand he motioned towards the wrist containing your watch, the device being raised enough for him to view the damage. “I wasn’t able to find you sooner because of the damage done, so I had to get Lyla to run your signature through the system.”

“Well, better late than never. I felt like I was playing house here.” Although you meant it as a joke, the domestic theme of the day made you a little melancholic- knowing that normality was something you’d never have the luxury of having. “Well, was playing house.”

“You seemed into it though.”

At the comment you gave him a look, the man unable to let out a mix between a chuckle and laugh. “Anyways. We should get going. Any longer here and we might cause a disturbance.”

“Wait- we can’t just leave her alone in the house? What kind of fake parents would we be?”

Upon mentioning the girl, Miguel let out a short huff. “Well, what do you have in mind then?”

“We wait for the other me to come home, and then you’ll get a ‘call from work.”

Pondering over the suggestion he wanted to decline right away, the thought of impersonating someone again left a bad taste in his mouth-however the paternal instincts deep within told him to just listen.

Which is what you both did.

Your variant came home about an hour later, her expression bidding Miguel a tired greeting followed by a peck on the cheek before merely heading to bed.

A little easier than you thought it was going to be. But hey, now you two could leave that place.

You never knew how much you missed HQ until the smooth walls and floors welcomed you, the glowing yellow screens of Miguel’s workplace and the holographic form of Lyla were comforting- especially once the Ai began chatting aimlessly.

The conversation halting as Miguel spoke up from where he leaned over a desk, “I didn’t know a dimension like that existed.” It was as though his brain took a step back from processing things then they were happening, the man thinking back to his late daughter and then the daughter he’d just met.

She had the perfect mix of the both of you- (E/C) hues and brown hair, your nose and his smile.

“I didn’t know either until I landed there,” Musing that out you let out a sigh. “She was cute right?”

Casting his gaze back at where you sat his lips tilted up softly, “She was.”

“She definitely got it from her mom.”

You were stunned at this, mouth falling open before closing. Eyes rolling faintly in response however without verbally saying anything he took that as a win.

Moving away from his desk he trailed towards where you sat, hand coming to brush some of your hair aside nuzzling his nose into the crown of your head- a gesture you were familiar with.

This was your Miguel after all.

Humming lowly he pecked for head, lips murmuring against it afterwards.

“We should think about it.”

“We should.”

----------------------

Can you tell I like dad Miguel?

#miguel ohara #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara #× reader #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel o 'hara #across the spider verse spoilers #across the #spiderverse #spider man: across the spider verse #smatsv #atsvx reader #spiderman × reader #spiderman 2099 spiderverse #spiderman #spider man #spiderman into the spiderverse #spider

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bellysoupset · 2 months

Note

I know Leo said that he didn’t need to see the ring, but could we maybe get a little ficlet about the morning afterward where he sees it?

Alright just a teeny tiny ficlet of the morning after!

------- *--------

Leo woke up with Jonah speaking French.

He had a headache from the emotional roller coaster that was the night before and quickly realized he had slept past his alarm, judging by how much sunlight was filtering through their sheer curtains - they had forgotten to pull the black-out curtains.

Jon's hand was in the middle of his back and Leo sighed, snuggling up more, his cheek resting on Jonah's lower belly as he heard the other man continue to speak in a low, calm voice.

A chuckle.

Jackie's voice answering, always so smooth and calm, with that little vocal fry she had thanks to smoking most of her life. Then Angie, in rapid fire French, her voice much louder than everyone else's.

Leo smiled, opening his eyes and stretching. He rolled slightly on the bed, forcefully removing his head from Jonah's tummy - it was gurgling pleasantly and Leo nearly fell right back asleep - and staring at the ceiling for a second.

He was engaged.

"Mum, stop," Jonah switched to English, realizing Leo was up and the blonde turned his head, rubbing the sleep off his eyes.

Jon hadn't bothered to look put together to break the news to his family, which was adorable in Leo's opinion. His mop of curls was going up, almost in a 70s style, and he was wearing the huge hoodie from Vince still.

"Leo's up," he said and Leo frowned, not wanting Jackie to see him with his just-woke-up face, but Jonah didn't seem to care. He turned the phone around and Leo opened a sleepy smile to the two women on the screen.

Jackie occupied the upper half of it, she was home and it seemed to be night for her already. She was in a huge kitchen that made Leo want to inspect closer, moving around in a long gown as if she was shooting an ad.

Angelina was in the bottom half, in just gym clothes and where Leo easily recognized was the gym of her own house. At least Angie looked normal, he thought, waving to the girl, only for her to let out a squeal.

"Leo let me see the ring!" She leaped forward, gluing herself to the phone and Leo let out a chuckle, turning his hand so she could see it. In fact, he hadn't had the chance to really look at the ring yet.

Angie let out a string of "awww" and "ooh", while Jackie crossed the kitchen so she could inspect it better. She raised her eyebrows, "Jonah should've gotten you a bigger rock, sweetheart."

"No, I like it," Angie pouted, "it's classic and beautiful. Did you like it, Leo?"

"I love it," he said truthfully, even if he had properly looked at it yet. Jonah snorted at that, handing him the phone and getting up from the bed with a stumble, causing Leo to look up, worried the vertigo hadn't fully vanished.

"I'm fine," Jon mouthed to him, swaying to the bathroom and Leo scooted up on the bed, grinning as he heard Angie say she was so excited for him to become a part of the family.

"We're gonna have to meet to plan this party," Jackie told him, "You and Jon need to come here, Matteo has asked non stop and that was before you two got engaged."

"We will," Leo promised, while mentally cringing as he imagined what Jackie had in mind as a wedding party. That would be a whole quest on its own, "Angie, you're still coming over next month?"

"Wouldn't miss it," she opened a gummy smile, whole face lighting up. They chatted for a couple more minutes, before eventually hanging up, Leo blushing as Jackie called him mon cher.

He put down the phone, then looked at his hand, feeling his heart speed up. It was a beautiful ring, the diamond not too large, but not so tiny it was just a dot and most importantly... It just fit him. The type of ring Leo had no intentions of removing, ever.

He let out a dreamy sigh and then smiled as Jon walked back in the room, now without the hoodie and smelling like toothpaste as he crawled on the bed.

"I'm engaged," Leo whispered, when Jonah draped himself over him, wordlessly.

"Yeah?" Jon yawned, resting his chin on Leo's shoulder and looking at the ring, "still a yes?"

"Still a yes," Leo turned his head to kiss him, bringing up his hand to cup Jonah's cheek and then grinning as he saw his ring pressed to his fiance's cheek, "definitely a yes."

#fluff #mywriting #leo wagner #jonah banks

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jeannereames · 6 months

Note

If you could change or insert one aspect of the common pop culture picture most people have in their heads when they think about ATG what would it be?

I'm going to jump this in the queue because I can answer it swiftly, but also because I have TWO things that are personal pet peeves.

FIRST: That "historians" keep insisting Alexander and Hephaistion were "just good friends" in the face of obvious evidence to the contrary.

SECOND: Alexander called Hephaistion his Patroklos (to his own Achilles), and they used this comparison frequently throughout their lives.

So, let’s take on the “Fake News,” shall we?

The notion that "historians" keep insisting Alexander and Hephaistion were "just good friends" in the face of what would seem clear evidence to the contrary is over 50 fucking years out of date.

Are there “historians” out there who say that? Sure. But they tend to come in two flavors: 1) people who aren’t specialists, Hellenists, or even historians,⸸ or 2) Greeks.* Since Badian, Green, Hamilton, and Schachermeyer (et al.) took over Macedonian/Alexander studies mid-century, few specialists claimed Alexander and Hephaistion couldn’t have been lovers, or Alexander couldn’t have been attracted to men. Even Hammond cagily acknowledged it.

Yet—TBH—I don't think those who repost that meme really care. They just want a convenient strawman/whipping horse to make them sound "smarter than the experts."

You don't. You sound as if you haven't read much about Alexander since about 1975. Historians who have died of old age by now said Alexander and Hephaistion were probably lovers.

But that raises another problem: the implication that anybody who might argue they aren't lovers must be an old, white homophobic dude. Again, this is wrong.

The current discussion centers more on source problems, and separates Alexander having male lovers from Alexander and Hephaistion being lovers themselves (not the same thing, actually). Those making the best argument for caution are young, very much not homophobic (but absolutely brilliant) women (e.g., Sabine Müller). Follow the link to see a picture of Sabine, if you don’t believe me. I don't agree with her, but you can't shoot down her argument by screaming "Homophobe!" at the top of your lungs. The points she raises are all good ones and any responsible (and smart) historian will take them seriously.

As for the Alexander-Achilles/Hephaistion-Patroklos pastiche… yeah, sorry, no.

I realize this torques off folks, as it’s become a mainstay of queer culture surrounding Alexander as a gay icon and owes more than a little to Miller’s The Song of Achilles.

Busting it probably makes me sound like a Grinch.

BUT…the facts just don't support it. Yes, Alexander compared himself to Achilles--but not as much as to Herakles and Dionysos. Not even close.

How do I know? I COUNTED THEM. Facts ... not impressions.

After all, looking closely at what the sources (not impressions) actually say about Hephaistion is how I came to the conclusion the man was a lot more important than heretofore recognized. 😉

Again, as I’ve said elsewhere, Alexander did compare himself to Achilles. That’s not in dispute … it just wasn’t as frequent or common as modern fans like to pretend. And Hephaistion was compared to Patroklos only twice. There’s also a problem with WHO made those comparisons: chiefly Arrian. Again, I’ve talked about this elsewhere, so won’t go over it again.

Yes, I made the comparison myself in Dancing with the Lion: Becoming. But it concerned one circumstance near that book’s end (not giving spoilers), and isn’t something they harped on otherwise. That mirrors how it appears in our sources: it’s limited, and situational.

“Patroklos” was not Hephaistion’s nickname. Wish folks would stop claiming it was.

—————

⸸ Just because somebody is tagged “historian” on a History Channel special—or his own private blog—doesn’t mean they actually have a PhD, or even a Master’s, much less one in ancient history, Classics, Classical archaeology, or ancient art history. The number of idiots on Tik-tok yapping about how Alexander thought this or did that—and clearly know jack shit—routinely stuns me…even while it doesn’t. Dunning-Kruger Effect all over the damn place.

* Greeks must often work within the confines of official narratives in order to secure jobs and funding, which can limit what they say on certain topics, from who’s buried in “Philip’s Tomb,” to the Greekness of the ancient Macedonians, to any possible homosexual “taint” staining Alexander’s greatness. This may swim against the current of academic discourse outside Greece, even by other Greeks. The Greek Ministry of Culture and Sport has softened on some of these topics in recent years, especially as LGBTQIA rights have gained better traction in Greece.

#asks #Alexander the Great #Alexander memes #Alexander in pop culture #Myths about Alexander in pop culture #Hephaistion #Hephaestion #Classics #what “real” historians actually say #ancient history #ancient Macedonia #ancient Greece

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obsidiancreates · 1 year

Text

Icewild (Part 2)

(There should be a Read More link but if it doesn't show up tell me because that's been happening lately and I don't know why.)

The arrival of the newcomers is... interruptive, but not halting. There's still the matters of making sure the ogres don't turn on the humans, of tending to wounds, of having a new day.

Of breakfast.

Barnabos keeps Kremy in the corner of his vision as he works on the monkey bread. The lizardfolk clearly knows his way around a kitchen as he pulls a chef's hat out of a bag of holding, and then a little pencil which he uses to add curls to the ends of his mustache. Then he pulls out a strange belt of some kind, fastening it around his waist.

"Alright Gid. Just light me a little fire here and then hang around in case I need ya."

"Sure thing man." Gideon lights the little fire below the pot and then steps back, crossing his arms and keeping his own eye on Barnabos.

"Not the trusting sort there, Mr. LeCroux?" Barnabos asks. "No need for a bodyguard, as long as ye don't strike first."

"Who said anythin' about a bodyguard? I just like havin' Gid around."

Barnabos sees Gideon puff up a little at that with a smug yet proud smile. Ahhh, well, that makes sense. Always better to have one's lover looking out for them, even when it might not be needed.

"I'll be servin' up a feast myself this morning," Barnabos says, tossing some pork into a pan and deeply inhaling the scent as it sizzles and pops. "All sorts o' fine foods, sweet an' savory alike."

"I'll be cookin' up some Agwe classics myself." Kremy pulls a small bag of flour from his belt, as well as a small glass jar of oil. He measures both out carefully and mixes them together in the pot. "Sausage and chicken gumbo, and maybe a tarte. We'll see, I dunno if I wanna risk a beezleberry infestation here."

"... Did you hit your head when you landed here, lad? I don' understand half the words yer saying."

"Oh. Right, well, a beezleberry is some kinda... horrible Feywild monstrosity. Tastes real fuckin' good! But kind of otherwise really horrible in every other way."

"I thin' I speak for everyone when I say you'd best leave that out."

"Yeah, probably."

"Is Agwe a Feywild city as well?"

"What? No, it's a fuckin' normal city."

"No need to get up in arms, Mr. LeCroux! Was just askin', I don't recognize the name is all."

"I guess it is pretty inland for someone like yourself to visit."

"It's where you wanna go if you're lookin' for a good time," Gideon says, pulling out a cigar and lighting it with his magic. "Gamblin', sleepin' around, scammin'-"

"Sounds like you should tell Mr. Stabbaskotch about it!" Barnabos declares with a grin. "He's the scammin' and gambling sort!"

"Not surprised." Kremy just keeps stirring his flour and oil mixture. "I could taste fiendish magic all around that little fella. Hope he got himself a good deal out of it."

"We may never know." Barnabos pops the bread into the oven. "He's got some sort o' beastie after 'im, but if you ask me he just needs to face it."

Gideon takes a drag from his cigar. "Sounds like he got a shitty fuckin' deal. Hey, how big is this fuckin' breakfast gonna be?"

"I'll be makin' a feast for the whole camp! It'll be plenty to fill up on, don't you worry."

"I'm making enough gumbo for seconds too, Gid." Kremy gestures back at Gideon. "His stomach's made of fire and stuff, he needs extra."

"Well I'm also keepin' up some fuckin' gains." Gideon flexes and grins.

"I'm not so scrawny myself, lads, I know what I'm doin'. ... Speakin' of, Mr. LeCroux, are you ever going to add any food to that there slurry?"

"The rue's barely there! It's only a light caramel, I'm looking for milk chocolate."

"Yer burnin' it on purpose?"

"Cookin' it. Keep your hands away though, this stuff is fuckin' Agwe Napalm."

"... And that's a common dish there? Something that they call napalm?"

"Can find it all over, none's as good as mine though."

"... Maybe don't tell Mr. Stabbaskotch where to find your city, on second thought."

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The breakfast is a hit.

Kremy made enough gumbo just for his own family and their "hosts", so to speak, while Barnabos fed the rest of the entire camp. Not a single crumb or droplet was left behind of either of their meals, the gumbo being a highlight.

"Holy shit!" Skrimm literally bounces in his set a bit. "How have I never had that before?!"

Jornir places his bowl away. "It was... very good." He nods at Kremy.

"I'll admit, I 'ad my doubts watchin' the process, but it was well worth it." Barnabos sops up the last dregs of it with some bread. "I'll be tryin' to make my own take on it soon enough."

"Lookin' forward to tryin' it." Kremy leans over to Gideon and, less subtly than he thinks it is, whispers, "I saw him fuckin' drown everythin' in that Ancient Estuary shit Duncan had, I'm not fuckin' eatin' that so I'll just give it to you."

Gideon tries to laugh in quiet gleeful agreement. It's also louder than intended. Everyone graciously ignores this little conversation, for the sake of the ogres and their new holiday. Otherwise Barnabos and Skrimm might be rolling for initiative over the slight against Ancient Estuary.

"Oh! By the way, not to uhhhh impose," Gricko says, making a strange hand gesture, "But um, the big fella, there."

"I am called Jornir."

"Jor-nir-aye."

"... N-no."

"Anyway! Um, I noticed you've got a little funny shedding going on," Gricko says, lowering his voice and running his words together at the tail end of his sentence as he tilts his head. "And if I'm not mistaken, my friend Kremy here should have some nice bananyas leftover because he never used them in his pie, and I think it would make a nice, salve." he folds his hands and gives Jornir a funny little smile.

"Oh, yeah, I think you're right." Kremy reaches into his bag and pulls out Bananas.

Daisy gives Kremy and Gricko a look of perplexion and judgement so strong that it's a wonder they don't take psychic damage.

"They're fuckin' magic healin' bananas, alright?" Kremy tosses one at Jornir.

Jornir catches it, and examines it. "This is... infused with magic." He looks at Gricko. "I did not believe you when you said you were a druid."

"Oh, that's fair, I'm not the usual kind." Gricko pats Hootsie on the head as she, with an intelligence more humanoid than animal, pulls a plate of muffins closer and begins eating, picking out any chunks of fruit she finds like a picky child.

"Well... thank you. I will go use this." Jornir stands and leaves the table, and just as pointed out there's a fine dusting of fur on the seat as he leaves.

When he returns, there's sure to be... more visible damage.

But in the meantime, things settle a bit.

"Well," Taishen sighs, "Before all of this happened I'd told Myelin I'd check on an issue with the plumbing system, so I'll be going now. They gave me a wonderful outfit to do it in, too!" He holds up a pair of blue overalls and a fetching red cap.

"Oh, you guys got plumbin?!" Gideon leans in. "Why didn't anyone say so, we're fuckin' filthy!"

"Well, it's not working right now-"

"Oh, I'll get that workin'." Gideon stands up. His chains fall to the floor with a heavy clang! "Just fuckin' watch. Take me to the ogre sewers, dragon guy."

"Oh, company! Excellent news!"

"Go get 'em Gid." Kremy calls after them.

"Jackasses," Skrimm snorts.

Queenie glares. "They're fixin' your water, Skrimm."

"They're also working when they could be relaxing."

"But a hard day's work can be rewarding!" Twig bounces in her seat and holds up a hand. "You get to have things working right, you get to feel all nice after you get cleaned up, you get to lick frogs you find whole cleaning out the cupboards-"

"Lick frogs?" Skrimm's face scrunches.

"Didn't you try snake poison with the ghosts, Mr. Stabbaskotch?"

"Totally different."

"Yeah, snake poison tastes bad." Twig shrugs. "Anyway, I think it's gonna be better once they get the water running."

"Yes, I... am in desperate need of a bath. I'm still... messy, from Julia and Bobby's... acts."

Torbek makes a low sound of both disgust and intrigue. Frost wrinkles his nose and shakes his head.

"Well, I'm sure they'll be returning with good news for us," Barnabos says, leaning back in his chair and puffing on his pipe. "Oh, Mr. Jornir! Lookin' much better. What do you think about all this, sending the fire lads to fix the plumbing."

"I think that it will not work," Jornir says, sliding back into his chair and smelling of smushed bananyas. "And that we will need to have everyone move before we go to take the Armament from the Princess. ... And after the blood sacrifice."

All mouths at the table fall open.

"... Talk about a mood killer," Gricko mumbles.

There's a long silence.

And then Daisy raises her hand and signs, "I nominate Bacon for the sacrifice."

#legends of avantris #once upon a witchlight #icebound #my attempts at fanfic #fanfic

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moderator-monnie · 3 months

Text

Arrival Of The End (A Sonic Horror Story)

(Part 1)

The man slowly woke up, a long drawn-out breath left his mouth, and he blinked slowly. Standing up, he looked down at himself. He looked around, confused, and found himself covered in blood, remembering what happened to him. He quickly felt around his body but discovered no wounds or pain either.

He was very confused by this fact, remembering the last moments before he woke up here. He happened to have slipped on a banana and landed in front of a Sonic the Hedgehog train in Tokyo. The last thing he felt was the train hitting him, then suddenly waking up here.

But where was he? He wondered, finding himself in a beautiful, lush forest, full of what looked like small birds and other forest animals. He then noticed some blue fur and quills sticking out of the puddle of blood. A pair of shoes near by reminded him of classic Sonic, and thus he lifted both the quills and fur up.

He found himself compelled to take it and keep it. He slowly walked off to see if he couldn't find out what he looked like now, and after some walking, he rubbed his face, slowly finding he was wearing a mask that resembled an ugly sonic, and his eyes glowed out from under the mask; they were different from how he remembered.

But he found that he liked it; it made him look wonderful, but the look was incomplete. He took out the quills and fur he had found and glued them to the head of the mask and his bare feet as a sort of protection, and he smiled. When he smiled, the mouth of the mask opened up as well.

He let out a somewhat deep chuckle, cleaning the blood of himself using the lake of water, and began to wander off to properly discover where he was.

Dirus walked out of the forest, a camara near, by capturing his image, and Eggman found himself curious by the new face appearing out of the emerald forest. What was a human man doing out there, and why did he resemble Sonic? He had to investigate, so he decided to send Orbot and Cubot to investigate personally.

While walking through the grassy field, Dirus was in awe of the beauty of this land; it was absolutely stunning. He recognized several types of flowers he saw.

"Me see Lilium, which is part of the genus Herbaceous, a type of flower often growing from bulbs. Me love nature."

He was slowly just admiring the lilies and other types of flowers and smelling them. When he came out from behind him, there was Shadow, who was on a mission and just so happened to pass by the area Dirus had woken up in.

Shadow began to speak with a scoff in his voice, only seeing the blue quills from the back of the mask at first. "Ah, there you are, faker wha..." He then stopped behind him, quickly stopping in his steps, finding himself confused. This was not Sonic; it seemed to be a human, but what were they wearing?

Dirus slowly turned around his frog-like eyes, which glowed a bright green from the eyes of the mask. He looked at Shadow face-to-face slowly breathing, and he found himself quite surprised.

"Shadow the Hedgehog from Sonic Adventure 2 (2001)? ... Me don't really understand. How are you here?"

Shadow raised his eyebrow, confused by what the other man had said. What did he mean by 'sonic adventure 2' and why did he specify a year? This person confused him deeply, but he had no time to deal with this right now.

"Tch, I have no time for this; I will deal with you later, faker's faker."

He then began to run off, looking back once behind him, with Dirus slowly waving at him. For some reason, Shadow felt a pit in his stomach when he looked at the man; something about him was so unsettling.

and the fact he couldn't see his real face made it even worse for the hedgehog to witness, but for now he'd let it be; he had a mission to focus on, and he wasn't about to let it go.

Dirus was quickly accepting of this fact and slowly hummed, 'I am (all of me),' walking past the flowers, hoping to find a place to head to call his own shelter.

Things were about to get very interesting for this newcomer, and they were more intense than his old life could ever hope to be.

Dirus was home.

#Horror #Horror Au #Sonic The Hedgehog #sonic creepypasta #Iseguy Sonic au #isekai au #Dirus Harold Hog #story #short story #horror story #fanfic #part 1

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queenlua · 1 year

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tagged by @vintar for “ten songs you’re vibing to right now”!

ok, i gotta tell you just how EXCITED i was when i got tagged in this, because

i saw it earlier this week, just as me and a friend were talking about our misspent youths, which for both of us involved an awful lot of “stockpiling dope midi file versions of various anime theme songs,” right

and i was like “bro i still have my WHOLE COLLECTION,” and we spent a VERY pleasant evening nostalgia’ing over the tracks i found, and now here i am, days later, sharing ten of my dopest midi files with you as well (& all my fine fine followers ofc)

here’s the dropbox link! a guide:

abyss.mid: god wasn’t this song so sick when it was in dance dance revolution

galaxia.mid: i have NO IDEA what song is from. hmu if you recognize it? lil’ kid me was impressed with its majestic scope, its sick reverb, its really fun ancient-temple-y orchestration, and, ok yeah adult me agrees this one rules

giveareason.mid: i have never watched slayers in my life but i have listened to the midi of its theme song approximately one billion times

lastempl.mid: i think this is the last temple theme of one of the earlier zelda games? i like how AGGRESSIVE it is, just, RIGHT out of the gate it’s loud and in your face

nightwait.mid: *old man voice* back in my day we didn’t have enough space to download em pee threes. we had to collect midi files of cool pop songs. such as jennifer lopez’s classic “waiting for tonight”

SD3_-_Innocent_Sea.mid: it’s a tune from Seiken Densetsu 3, a game soundtrack i find overall tragically underrated. (the whole series, really; Secret of Mana has some absolute bangers too!) anyway “Innocent Sea” and its companion “Innocent Water” have fucked me up for years; ask me to play the latter on the piano at a nerd convention sometime

sealcrazy.mid: there was this one wildlife artist who sold his art on his lovingly handcrafted website and he had a different midi file for each page. like each piece of art for sale had its own page. anyway this was my introduction to Seal, though i didn't realize it until i heard it on the radio when i was 25 and was like HOLY SHIT IT'S THE LIVE VERSION OF THAT MIDI FILE

song1.mid: i think this one might be from Ultima? like the original Ultima online? but i’m really not sure; i found it on a Geocities website for this horse roleplaying game called Black & Blue where this song played in the background during its cool Javascript intro page, where they told the story of The Falling-Out Between The Two Brothers That Has Now Cleaved Our Realm Into Two, and like, text would fade in & out in sync with the music? such a sick effect. loved it

song2.mid: this played once you entered the main part of the site. might be another Ultima song. who fuckin knows

SongoftheWolf.mid: some of you didn’t listen to an absolutely disgusting number of world music albums + Enya during your formative years and it shows

anyway, i will spin the wheel since i’m honestly looking for some new music (i have to drive a bunch during the next month, UGH): @radicarian @ourlightsinvain @jaggedwolf @soanvalcke @departo @nightpool @cyansighs @tototavros @cyanoscarlet & anyone else who wants to join! (did i mention. i have to drive a lot. please share some music with me. save me from listening to Bad Religion’s The Gray Grace so many times it causes an integer overflow in the fabric of the universe and sends us all straight to hell)

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grateful-to-my-superiors · 7 months

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Since the last part got some attention, here's part 2:

It felt weird tongue-bathing a man's feet. I did kiss another man's foot before, as a sign of submission, but this was new. It was borderline gay, on my side at least. A minute or two passed where the only thing I could think about was how repulsed I was by this whole thing, full with questioning my life choices, asking myself if I could have been less pathetic, just a regular family guy, with a loving wife to come home to, have boring sex and just call it a day. I found however that those ideas rapidly evaporated, and my mind magically shifted to focusing on the task on hand. The texture was crazy, the edge of each toe had more angle to it than any other woman I worshipped. I found myself forgetting about what was happening around me, ignoring the fact that my wife was now gagging on this magnificent man's cock, eyes all teared up and drooling all over the place. I found myself only focus on the feet in front of me. For a second I forgot there was a cage on my dick, it just felt like I have a clit that was really aching to be rubbed. I woke up from my reverie with a deep moan from my master, and a louder gag sound, which was enough to know his cum was shooting deep into my wife's throat, and she was taking it like a champ.

His gaze shifted to me a few seconds after. "well well well, it looks like we're not the only ones having fun here" he said speaking to the woman of my life who was kneeling in front of him, all messed up with drool, sweat and cum. Then looking at me "You're not really the kind of slaves I classically enjoy toying with. I know there isn't a trace of manhood left your psyche, but your morphology is just too reminiscent of a male's." He molested my natural man boobs for a second, while I froze in there, not knowing what to do. "You're already halfway there, but you still need some work". With that, he put on a transparent plastic glove and ordered me to kneel on all fours. He produced a small bag that looked like it had coke in it and I was genuinely wondering what was all of this leading to. Then it hit me, I remembered I saw a similar bag once, it was MDMA. We shared a gram once, my wife, a random bull and I, which made me more subservient that night. I remember however we mixed it in a glass of water before we drank it..

A weird sensation in my butt cut through my line of thought. I immediately recognized it as master's finger making its way through my hole. Something felt off however, it felt kinda sandy and it burned. He was shoving fucking MD deep into my butt, and I was meaning. "This will be your daily routine from now on. It has immediate effects of course, which you'll discover shortly, but on the long run it will slowly but surely destroy your testosterone production, while at the same time conditioning your dopamine production to correlate with .. anal action".

Too much science for me, but I got the main idea. This man was set on changing my hormonal equilibrium, not with HRT, not with meds, but just the unhealthiest way possible, and I felt grateful. Suddenly he was done with me, he grabbed my wife, laid her on the bed and started fingering her. With a gesture he motioned me to start licking her simultaneously which I happily did. I licked and licked and licked and I suddenly felt it. My asshole took a life of its own, and it felt like it was opening on itself, while my view of the room radically changed. I was no longer a cuckold husband licking hus queen to orgasm, I was some kind of a female freak, my gaze instantly turning towards master's veiny dick. I was craving it and he noticed. "Not so fast cucky, you still have a long way to go before you're allowed to even touch it, for now however" he said while he flipped my wife to put her in a doggy-style position as he would a toy, "now you're allowed to worship my ass while I fuck this cheap slut you call a wife" .

The night was just starting, I thought to myself through my drug-dazed brain. This was the life I was made for. This was heaven. I was happy

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handeaux · 11 months

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Did Lafcadio Hearn Really Hear The Blues In Cincinnati Way Back In 1876?

Many cities claim to be the cradle of the Blues. Saint Louis has a very nice Blues museum, and so does Clarksdale, Mississippi. The Godfather of Soul himself, James Brown, said New Orleans was “the home of the Blues.” Cincinnati has never exerted a serious claim along those lines, but we must ask: Did Lafcadio Hearn discover something like the Blues in Cincinnati as early as 1876?

It is impossible to research Cincinnati history without running into the man who was born on a Grecian island in 1850 as Patricio Lafcadio Tessima Carlos Hearn, and who was buried in 1904 as Koizumi Yakumo in Japan. During the decade he wrote for Cincinnati newspapers he was known as Lafcadio Hearn. Abandoned by his parents, shuttled among a collection of uncaring Irish relatives, Hearn was shipped off to America by a cousin plotting to steal his inheritance. He made his way to Cincinnati and while here wrote hundreds of articles, many of them for the Cincinnati Enquirer and the Cincinnati Commercial.

Over a period of months, Hearn wandered through what he called the Levee and what we call the Public Landing to listen to some music. He wrote a lengthy article headlined “Levee Life/Haunts and Pastimes of the Roustabouts/Their Original Songs and Peculiar Dances” published by the Cincinnati Commercial on March 17, 1876. Hearn sets the scene in typical fashion, employing long, languorous sentences emphasizing the strange and unfamiliar aspects of this environment so alien to his white middle-class readers.

“But, on a cool spring evening, when the levee is bathed in moonlight, and the torch-basket lights dance redly upon the water, and the clear air vibrates to the sonorous music of the deep-toned steam-whistle, and the sound of wild banjo thrumming floats out through the open doors of the levee dance-houses, then it is perhaps that one can best observe the peculiarities of this grotesquely-picturesque roustabout life.”

When Hearn says he was on the Levee, he actually meant the neighborhood just east of the Public Landing, known then as Sausage Row, which is now the greenspace along the Serpentine Wall. He also collected songs from the city’s largest African American neighborhood, known as Bucktown. Bucktown was located between Broadway and Culvert streets and between Sixth and Seventh. It is now nothing but parking lots.

Hearn transcribed a selection of lyrics collected from the African American residents of the Cincinnati riverfront. Hearn’s ear immediately recognized that the music he heard down in Bucktown and on the Levee was different from anything his white readers were familiar with. As he said:

“You may hear old Kentucky slave songs chanted nightly on the steamboats, in that wild, half-melancholy key peculiar to the natural music of the African race; and you may see the old slave dances nightly performed to the air of some ancient Virginia-reel in the dance-houses of Sausage Row, or the ‘ball-rooms’ of Bucktown.”

Doesn’t that sound like the Blues? Some of the lyrics Hearn transcribed could be picked up by modern Blues artists and recorded today. For example, Hearn presents a song titled “Ninety-Nine”:

Whar do you get yer whisky? Whar do you get yer rum? I got it down in Bucktown, At Number Ninety-nine.

And another:

I come down the mountain, An' she come down the lane, An' all that I could say to her Was, “Good-by, ‘Liza Jane.”

Hearn would have had no way of knowing at the time, but he recorded songs that are just a step or two from evolving into the classic Blues format. It is regrettable that he did not capture the tunes supporting these lyrics. Yet another near-Blues, a song Hearn said was sung exclusively by women, would have fit perfectly into the repertoire of Bessie Smith or Ma Rainey:

I have a roustabout for my man— Livin ' with a white man for a sham, Oh, leave me alone, Leave me alone, I'd like you much better if you'd leave me alone.

While Hearn does not provide musical notation for the songs, he does describe the instrumentation that accompanied them:

“A well-dressed, neatly-built mulatto picked the banjo, and a somewhat lighter colored musician led the music with a fiddle, which he played remarkably well and with great spirit. A short, stout Negress, illy dressed, with a rather good-natured face and a bed shawl tied about her head, played the bass viol, and that with no inexperienced hand.”

Hearn’s description of an evening in one of the Bucktown saloons sounds like just the sort of environment in which the Blues were born somewhere along the waterways of America. Whatever Hearn found, whether it was the embryonic Blues or a related offshoot that died on the vine we may never know, because Lafcadio Hearn didn’t stick around much longer.

One day, Hearn wrote to his local mentor, an anarchist printer named Henry Watkin, "It is time for a fellow to get out of Cincinnati when they begin to call it the Paris of America." Hearn went off to New Orleans on the way to the West Indies and on to Japan, where he spent the rest of his life.

#lafcadio hearn #cincinnati music #cincinnati blues #african amercan history #riverboat life #bucktown #sausage row

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distortionbobble · 8 months

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Welcome to the Neighborhood: Ep. 1

pairing: wanda maximoff x westview!reader

warnings: minors/ageless blogs absolutely dni. none necessarily this chapter but the series will have dark themes including manipulation, brainwashing, reality altering, violence etc. dead dove do not eat

summary: Westview, New Jersey-- the beautiful town that you've lived in for... well, actually, you can't remember. But that doesn't matter, now, does it? Not when your gorgeous neighbor Wanda's here to keep you busy.

wc: 1.8k

a/n: here it comes! yet another series that nobody asked for and yet. and yet here i go! i have ideas and i write my silly stories. i don’t have the next part written yet but maybe when I finish some of my Star Wars fics I’ll work on the next one

Dawn is when the boundary between reality and dreams blurs.

The dawn today is bright, but there is something off about it. Has everything always been this gray? You tilt your neck, placing a warm palm against your skin as you try to remember. Who are you? You wonder distantly if this body has always been your own.The dreams of yesterday are already gone, lost to a sea of memory that you can’t find.

“Good morning, honey,” a man’s voice comes from next to you. You turn to him and smile, because it feels right, but when you look at him there is no pang of recognition. There’s a faint whispering in your head when you stare at him a little longer. Husband. Husband. Husband.

You don’t know why you can’t recognize the voice in your head.

“Good morning, dove,” you force out. He’s classically handsome, like he stepped right out of a movie set, but unfamiliar. You lie in bed next to a stranger, but panic does not set in. You can’t remember the last time you panicked, or felt fear. In fact, you can’t remember much at all.

“Bad dream, darling?” He says from next to you, sitting up to peck you on the lips before rolling out of bed. As you look around the room, it feels almost as if it’s building itself just before you can see it. You can sense darkness in your peripheral vision, but when you face it, it’s perfectly normal. “Darling?” The man calls out again, snapping you back to reality.

“Oh. Yes, I’m sorry for my… absentmindedness this morning, dear. Although, I can’t quite… remember the dream.” Or anything else, you think. He blinks at your response emptily, staring at you in silence before he smiles again.

“Bad dream, darling?” He repeats. There’s a look in his eyes that you can’t quite place, something that shifts the calm unfeeling in your chest into just feeling… off. Did you not say anything? Did you simply imagine responding to him? You blame your disjointedness on the early hour of the morning, and simply smile and shake your head in response to him. He still stares at you expectantly, though, and you crack your knuckles before remembering that as his wife, you must go make his coffee. That’s why he’s looking at you that way, caution signs blaring in his eyes when you take too long to slide out of bed.

“I’ll go make your coffee now, darling.” You stumble over your own feet as you walk away from your now-cheery and whistling husband as he gets ready for work. There’s an unfamiliar but cheery melody stuck in your head, one you just can’t identify. You make nothing of it and move on.

You prepare the coffee, humming quietly to yourself as you expertly flip some pancakes for your husband.

“And I can’t forget the sugar, of course,” you mutter to yourself. You can hear your husband still whistling upstairs, and you stir his coffee with his smile.

“Breakfast looks incredible, sweetheart,” your husband calls out, jogging down the stairs. He’s dressed sharply, wearing a suit and tie with a hat resting jauntily on the crown of his head.

“Thank you, darling!” You respond before he takes a sip of the coffee and immediately spits it out. Laughter echoes around you when you realize your mistake and smack your forehead in annoyance at yourself.

“Oh, how could I be so silly? I’m so sorry darling, I’m afraid I put a little salt instead of sugar into your coffee,” you admit sheepishly.

“Oh, no matter, dear. You’re sweet enough to make up for it,” he jokes, pulling you towards him to peck your cheek before he gets up and grabs his briefcase from the side of the kitchen. “Well, honey, I’m off to work now. But I think it would be a great idea for you to welcome the newlyweds next door! Wanda and Vision, what an odd name. I do believe it’s some sort of European, you know how the French do adore their unique names.”

You smile your assent, watching your husband as he waves and heads out the door. Your husband. Husband. A woman should know her husband, inside and out. Funny thing is, you can’t remember the first damn thing about him.

Not even his name.

You frown, looking at your hands before you decide it’s not worth the time worrying about it. But still, it hangs over your shoulders, a thorn in your side as you stroll over to the neighbor’s house. When you knock on the door, you can hear an Oh, dear! and the crashing of ceramics on the floor. Seconds later, the door opens to the face of a woman— must be Wanda, you think— not a hair out of place, not a single wrinkle in her dress.

“Oh, hello! You must be our neighbor. I’m Wanda, my husband Vis and I just moved in. It’s so nice to meet you!” She says. You smile, offering your name in return as she ushers you in through the front door.

“I’m so sorry to bother you, I just wanted to get acquainted. Is this a bad time?” You ask her politely as she sits you down on her sofa.

“Oh no, not at all. It’s wonderful to meet you. I was just unpacking some of my dishes, and one of them fell, but it’s not a trouble at all. I’ll clean it up and be right back!” She responds, shooting you a wink before returning to the kitchen. You wait politely, crossing your legs uncomfortably as you admire Wanda’s house. That feeling of incompleteness is completely gone and you allow a sigh of relief as you process that everything is indeed alright, and that your imagination is simply being overactive.

Discomfort at the thought of being a bad guest forces you up from the couch and you follow Wanda’s route on autopilot, stopping right in front of the door with your palm pressed flat on the wood. Was this okay? You didn’t know what you were doing, really, but it felt like you were a puppet with no choice but to follow Wanda.

You allow your arm to follow through with the motion, swinging the door open as Wanda looks up in alarm. The sharp edge of the porcelain piece she was picking up slices through her pale palm, red droplets of blood beading at the seam of her wound.

“Oh my, I’m so sorry!” you exclaim, dropping to your knees in front of her to grasp her slender wrist and examine the wound on your own. She watches you, and you wonder what emotion is simmering behind her eyes. There’s clarity in them when you look back, apologizing profusely as you lead her to the sink. Your hand is still on her wrist as you run cold water on it, washing your hands and pressing your fingers onto the wound to help it stop bleeding.

“You know, it’s my husband and I’s anniversary today, I think,” Wanda says, just a hint of an edge in her voice. You wonder if you’ve offended her somehow, by unintentionally causing her to injure herself, but you squash the swell of panic that rises in you at the idea. You don’t know why, can’t explain it, but the thought of this woman that you just met disliking you makes your brain ring with a migraine-inducing frequency.

“Oh, well I wish you both a happy anniversary!” You respond, forcing a grin on your face that you don’t quite feel as the panic slows to a stop within you. The blood is gone, and you wash your hands again before drying them. “I think I’ve got bandages in my home, I can go and run over there. I’ll be back in a jiffy!” You let go of Wanda’s hand and call out as you walk away from this strange woman, suddenly eager to be away from her.

“Oh no, it’s really alright,” She says, making you halt in your tracks. “I’ve got one right here,” Wanda smiles, handing the little gauzy roll to you and offering her palm for you to wrap.

“Oh, gee, that’s really handy,” You smile, noting that the traces of irritation that you’d spotted just moments earlier had vanished from the corners of her mouth. You feel yourself relaxing as you grasp her hand again, wrapping the wound carefully as you try not to stare at Wanda’s beauty.

“Say, I don’t think I asked you this— and I’m sorry, it’s so terribly rude of me to not have asked— but are you single, dear? It just seems like such an awful lot of house for one girl,” Wanda smiles, her other hand coming to stroke your shoulder from on top of your dress.

“Oh, no. I’m married,” you say, struggling desperately to remember your husband’s name as Wanda watches. But your mind turns blank, and you blink away tears of frustration because you don’t understand why you can’t remember the most basic thing about your husband. You focus your gaze on your handiwork, her palm securely wrapped in cloth, looking for an excuse to avoid her inquisitive stare. The clock ticks in the background and you’re aware how bad this must look. What kind of woman doesn’t even know her husband’s name? You can’t imagine what Wanda must think of you, the distrust that must be brewing within her at your cluelessness.

“It’s Michael, right?” She asks you, tilting her head prettily with a smile gracing her lips when you look up in surprise. “You mentioned it at the door, but I think I forgot it. I’m terribly sorry about that.” That sounded right. Michael. It must have been Michael. Your husband Michael, who you still didn’t know the first thing about. You nod frantically, stretching your lips into a tense smile as you step back.

“All done! I hope your hand doesn’t cause any problems for you tonight, what with your big anniversary and all. You just let me know if you need anything, alright, Wanda?”

Wanda smiles at you, genuine and sweet, and brings you close to her, ghosting her lips above your cheeks— not close enough for the rouge on her lips to bring that blush to your own face, but enough that you could feel the warmth and the softness of her face and lips on the skin of your cheeks.

“Welcome to the neighborhood,” you muster out, twirling out of her embrace and out the door, back to your house. Where you belonged.

#dark fic #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff dark fic #horror fic #wandavision dark fic #marvel dark fic #distortionbobble's fics #my writing #Wanda maximoff horror fic

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eldritchaccident · 10 months

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Timing: Some time before [The Demon and I] and also a few years ago Location: Folklore Tourism giftshop Feat: @magmahearts & @eldritchaccident Warnings: none! Summary: Cass meets Teddy for the first time, but Teddy meets Cass again!

There were things that stuck with you, no matter how much time had passed. It had been years since her first ill-fated attempt into heroism went terribly wrong, years since she was tossed off a boat and into the ocean by some heartless, idiot criminals who did their dirty work on uncharted waters, and years since she was rescued by something she still didn’t quite understand. Cass had never forgotten her experience with the large, aquatic creature that saved her from the water, but she’d always assumed she was the only one who’d ever had such an experience.

Moving to Wicked’s Rest proved her wrong.

She recognized the figure the very first time she saw it on a poster. Big Fin, they’d named it; she wondered who’d picked the name. It seemed fitting enough, given the fact that the creature did have big fins. A little on the nose, maybe, but so was a volcanic oread calling herself Magma, so who was Cass to judge?

She’d found a shop that seemed to specialize in Big Fin merchandise, among other things. Cass quickly found a plushie, bringing it to the counter and bouncing on her heels. “Hi,” she greeted the clerk behind the counter, putting the plushie down. It was rare for her to actually pay for something, but she wanted to come back here and she didn’t want to risk being banned for shoplifting. “These are great. Like, the best. Have you ever seen Big Fin, like, in person?”

—

Few things in the verse got the demon to preen quite how talking up the monstrous form they often assumed did. Teddy’s mouth slid from that classic cheesy customer service brightness, to one of genuine interest, bristling with pride. “Oh yeah?I love those lil guys. Believe it or not I helped design them.” Between being the model for the toy, and a lover of plushies, you could say that pretty easily.

The other question brought a little chuckle though. One that followed the lilt often left by the Leviathan itself. “Ahh no, not quite. Seen its hands and tailfin once, but somehow I always manage to miss the big picture.” After all, it was pretty hard to see yourself, let alone when you were a thirty to fifty foot tall sea monster.

“How about you?” So many people claimed so many things. What kind would this one be? Did the creature attack someone and they saw it? Had they been the best of friends before? One man even tried to go around claiming he had killed Big Finn, which did not go over super well with the owner of the establishment who happened to be on site that day. A little oopsie and that man just happened to fall overboard with a small magical tag that signaled Teddy it was time for a little munch.

This tasty little nugget didn’t quite strike them as the type to aggrandize the death of a beloved cryptid who made for even more beloved stuffed toys. “Ever met the big fish? What's your take?”

—

“Really?” Cass looked at the stranger behind the counter with a new level of admiration in her eyes. Anyone who was responsible for a plushie design like this had absolutely earned her respect, she figured, especially if it meant they were also a fan of Big Fin. The sea monster got a bad rap sometimes for being… Well. A sea monster. But that wasn’t fair. Big Fin did good things, and people ignored that in favor of screaming just because the creature was large or imposing, as if that could be helped. No one got to choose what they looked like.

And maybe there was a little bit of kinship there. Maybe it was hard for Cass to think of all the people who hated Big Fin based on looks alone without remembering the way Kuma had screamed and told her to leave the moment she’d dropped her glamour. No one deserved to feel the way Cass had felt in that moment, not even a thirty foot sea monster.

“You’re missing out,” she sighed, fiddling with the tag on the plushie. “Between you and me? It saved my life one time. I was younger, and I ended up on a ship with some bad guys. They tossed me overboard, and Big Fin got me back to shore. I probably would have drowned if it hadn’t saved me. I still don’t really know why it did.” What did a sea monster get out of saving a stupid kid who’d made her own bed?

If the creature would have stayed around long enough, Cass would have thanked it. She didn’t know if sea monsters could hold you to a bind, but she knew Big Fin would have earned the gratitude anyway.

—

The more praise that extolled from the customer’s mouth, the more Teddy shone. She was well on her way to earning a discount. Or more. They hadn’t decided yet. The demon’s smile warmed as she continued, she couldn’t have known that it was actually them underneath those scales and teeth. Somehow that made it better. Sheltered beneath a carapace of rough hide and glowing spikes, there was a bit more animalistic instinct, it was a bit more emotionally driven than their ‘human’ form, but it was still Teddy.

And Teddy was struck with the memory. The moment she mentioned it. Like fitting in the final piece that completes the puzzle. Her face wasn’t just familiar from around town, or maybe a few of the tours. No, it went back much further than that.

~~ Some Time Ago ~~

The demon felt the waves lapping up above as they watched the wake of a ship suddenly stop as a commotion on board took everyone’s attention. This far out to sea it was dangerous for a ship that big to stall. Even in calm waters you never knew what lurked below. Teddy had been content to test their might against many ships in their past, doubly so if they carried some unsavory cargo.

Teal eyes poked just above the waves, watching and calculating the best time to strike when– A fierce little fireball went overboard. No, not a thing, a person. Doused immediately by the hungry ocean, Ted’s gaze flicked back to the damage it had already done. The ship was in chaos. Well on its way to sinking without the sea monster’s help. Unfortunately so was the little flame.

—

She didn’t know why she got on the boat to begin with. All she knew was that the men were bad and she wanted to stop them. Even as a young teen, Cass had carried with her a fierce desire to protect the world around her, to keep people safe where they might be harmed. The ship was bad, and so she climbed aboard. The people needed to be stopped, and so she poured magma into the engines, broke the items stored below deck, wreaked havoc on the ship as a whole.

But she didn’t really plan for what would happen when she was caught.

It was an inevitable thing; she wasn’t subtle, and she’d made sure the ship wasn’t going anywhere. Still, she’d felt a shock of surprise when a meaty hand had grabbed her by the hair and yanked her from her hiding spot, when that same hand had dragged her to the edge of the boat. They couldn’t undo the damage she’d caused, they told her, but they could avenge it. They could make sure no rescue came for her, could ensure that if the ship was found and pulled back to shore, she wouldn’t be saved along with it.

She fought them all the way, though she was too afraid to fight as herself. If they saw she was fae, what would they do? The older nymphs in her aos si had warned that humans hurt fae so much worse than they hurt other humans, but what could be worse than this? Before she had the chance to drop her glamour and fight like an oread instead of a terrified teenager, the ground disappeared beneath her feet and she was falling. Down, down, down.

The water wasn’t soft when she hit it. The world went black around her as consciousness fled quickly and, by the time it returned a few brief seconds later, she was already sinking. Swimming was harder when you were made of stone; you sank so much faster. She kicked desperately, but she couldn’t go up faster than she was going down.

—

The small frame sank so fast. But Teddy was faster. They were built for the water. For moments like this. The ship above groaned out a death rattle as it began to take on water faster than its crew could bail. Something that drove the demon to grin as it sped after the girl. Until they cradled her limp body and frantically began to think of what the next step was. She had been using fire, lava. But right then she looked human. It was hard to say if decompression sickness would be a worry or not. Better safe than sorry. More than that, the girl needed air.

There was one source. Not the prettiest. But something the monster could make renewable if they shifted to the right body. Thinking fast, the creature nosed the girl’s body upward. Keeping it steady and in place as the changes began. Teddy didn’t need to make themselves bigger per say, just more adapted. That did make the shedding of this skin a bit more gruesome.

Teal lights sallowed away to dull gray as the frame became a husk. Inside it something bellowed, claws and tentacles pushed outward until the flesh burst. Cast aside like dirty clothes. The new form wasn’t too different. Still recognizable. One of their favorites. The best part of it though was a clever redirection of gills and lungs. Pushing pressure this way and that until a little kangaroo pouch of clean breathable oxygen sat upon its tummy. Teddy pushed the girl inside, let the water flush away. And breathed until she had enough room to do the same.

Time went on, and Teddy surfaced slowly. It didn’t feel like she was moving more than one might when they slept. (Though it was a very strange sensation to have such a warm stone sitting inside one’s skin.) Ted carefully removed the little figure and rested on their back, the same way Leviathan had done for it when it was just a babe. Before they could breathe underwater at all. She was alive. Good. They’d wait as long as she needed to wake. Then take her wherever she needed to be.

—

Consciousness was fleeting as she sank, rushing out as the water rushed in. Cass fought the loss of it desperately, even though on a logical level she knew that there was no hope. She was out in the middle of the ocean, the only source of reprieve a quickly sinking ship where everyone on board wanted to kill her. No one knew she was out here; why would they? Her latest crew had abandoned her a week or so back, citing her clinginess as an excuse and leaving her alone in the warehouse they’d been holed up in. Maybe that was why she’d boarded the ship to begin with; she wanted, so badly, to prove that she was still worth being around. People loved heroes. If she could be one, maybe they’d love her, too.

Except it didn’t work out that way, did it? Cass had tried heroism on for size, and all she’d gotten was a lungful of saltwater and a corpse no one would ever find. No one would even think to look for her. There was no one to miss her, no one to take note of her absence at all. She was going to die here, just as alone as she’d lived. Unwanted, uncared for. Embraced only by the sea that drowned her.

The water grew hot around her, her body’s defenses jumping in to try to save her, but it was useless. She couldn’t boil an ocean into steam quickly enough to keep herself from drowning, couldn’t save herself with even the most impressive of eruptions. This was how it ended, she guessed — in water instead of in lava. It seemed so wrong.

Strangely, there was a shape in the water moving towards her. Large and shifting, glowing one moment and then fading the next. Cass wondered if she was imagining it. Maybe this was something a mind did when it was dying: created fantastical sea creatures that swam and moved and cared one way or another whether you lived or died. She’d never heard of such a thing before but, then again, she’d never died before, either. Maybe this was a common experience.

Consciousness finally left her just as the creature scooped her up, and she thought it was probably better this way. She didn’t want her corpse to sink to the bottom of the ocean and decompose there alone. If she was swallowed up by a whale, at least she could go out convincing herself that her death had meant something to someone, even if all it had meant was an easy meal.

Except… consciousness didn’t usually return to you when you’d been swallowed up, did it?

She opened her eyes under a starry sky, resting against something solid. She thought it was an island at first, but islands didn’t tend to move. Shifting, Cass sat up enough to look down at what she was laying on. Scales and skin? She remembered the sea creature, eyes wide as they traveled up until she was looking at the unmistakable shape of a head. “Whoa,” she breathed, shifting into an unbalanced sort of standing position. “Are you… Can you understand me?”

~~ Back in 2023 ~~

Well, damn. Something about the way she spoke jogged the demon’s memory, which most days was about as reliable as a wet paper towel trying to hold up a bridge. Cass was just that memorable, they guessed. “You know Big Finn actually kinda… saved me too. Indirectly, and probably not as cool as your story, but. Yeah. Saved me too.” It wasn’t a lie. If Teddy hadn’t been turned into a demon, they would’ve been fed to one. The very one that saved them. Funny how those things work. Not to mention the countless times that being a demon had saved Teds from their reckless behavior, most of which would have for sure resulted in an untimely demise. Big Finn had saved them. And now they shared that in common with the little customer.

Teddy’s smile brightened. “You know, I think that makes us buddies. And I think that means you need something better than that plushie.” The grin took on a slightly mischievous tone as the demon scuttled away from the counter. Not really explaining what they were doing, as if that would ruin the surprise.

One thing Teds was really good at was making sure there was always a source of comfort nearby. Too much shit in their life left them feeling tired, broken, and beaten down. To anyone else, it might have seemed like an extreme desire for laziness. Keeping a whole spare room of the shop for a bed. It was a hidden room, and only a few of the employee’s really knew about it, but hey. It was there if they needed it. And Teddy was the one who needed it the most often. Sure, they’d chalk it up to the big shift taking all their energy. Or being tired after a big old meal. Anything to keep the truth of the matter from being known.

A few moments later the bouncy head of wavy curls bounded back in, smile brighter than ever, and a big shape in their arms. The plush was larger than any of the ones they sold in the store, and it looked old. “This is one of the prototypes. I’ve been looking for someone to take care of it. They're gonna be doing some spring cleaning around here and I don’t want that one going to some garbage dump.” Teddy lied. If anyone tried to remove one of their plushies except them, there would be a fit. But that didn’t mean the demon wasn’t free to give ‘em away if they felt inclined. “Whadaya think, up to the challenge?”

—

“I’d love to hear your story, too, someday. If you ever wanted to tell it.” Wasn’t it a lovely thing to have in common? Being saved by the same creature, being protected by something most people assumed was either a myth or a monster? If Big Finn had saved this shopkeeper the same way it had saved Cass, she figured that gave the two of them some kind of… quiet alliance. Some kind of unspoken connection. Maybe they could kickstart a club, the two of them — a group of people rescued by Big Finn who could hang out in folding chairs and share their stories. It was a fun idea.

It seemed the shopkeeper agreed that their shared experiences made them, at the very least, buddies. Cass grinned, nodding her head adamantly. “Definitely buddies,” she confirmed. And then, they were saying that she deserved more than the little plushie she was buying, and her face lit up a little. This person, she thought, probably had access to the good stuff.

She bounced as they disappeared behind a corner, a bundle of excited energy as she waited for them to return. It was certainly worth the wait. The plush they returned with was far better than the small one she’d grabbed off the shelf. It was large, and it looked soft. More than that, it looked cared for, like it had belonged to someone else for a long time. People complained about hand me downs, sometimes. They talked like things passed down to you from someone else were worth less than things you bought new in the store. To Cass, it seemed like the opposite ought to be true. A hand me down meant that someone cared about you enough to give you something they used to love. Was there anything more wonderful than that?

“Definitely up for the challenge,” she breathed, taking the plush as it was offered to her. It was just as soft as it looked. She couldn’t wait to set it up in her cave, right next to the thin sleeping pad she slept on. “This is the coolest thing I’ve ever seen in my life. You’re the best. Honestly.”

—

"We'll make an official club meeting, and we can swap stories!" Teddy knew the instant they remembered their side of things, they wanted to hear hers. As for the demon's own, maybe they'd come up with some fanciful tale, or maybe even tell her the truth. Who knew? So much of Teddy's personality seemed to shift with the weather. Maybe that's why some saw them as fickle, but hey, when you constantly changed little bits of yourself to better fit the needs of those around you, shit tended to get a bit muddled from time to time.

Her delight was more than enough to fuel Teddy on, to make the demon want to do this kind of thing over and over and over again. Made them want to get to know this girl and see what made her shine so brightly. Enthusiasm was infectious, and Teddy loved nothing more than to watch someone talk up something they were excited about. Their pride and the way it swelled only made this encounter that much better. She couldn't have known. And maybe it was better that way. Teddy hadn't really met too many people in the reverse order. Monster first, fun sized friend shape second. They had to wonder if it'd be a disappointment. Finding out that old magnificent beast was actually just some guy.

"Oh well I try to be." The best. Hah. Good. Teddy's smile hadn't faltered as their mind raced, but it did grow at that. "Before you go, here's my number and my social media stuff. That way we can make Big Plans to talk about Big Finn." A soft hum escaped the demon's lips, until a realization hit like a baseball to the gut. "Oh! I'm so rude! I didn't even introduce myself. I'm Teddy! It's lovely to meet you, miss…?" They gestured outward, tilting their head as they waited for her response.

—

For someone so desperate for any kind of connection, meeting another person who shared a story about a giant sea monster saving their life felt like a jackpot for Cass. She was practically bouncing with excitement, the idea of a ‘club’ only intensifying the feeling. After all, she’d never belonged to a club before. A group of people bound together by a similar interest… The closest thing she really had was the Allgoods, which… didn’t entirely qualify. Not wanting to go to jail for murdering a girl probably didn’t count as a common interest.

Still grinning, she took down the stranger’s social media and number, eager to continue the friendship. When they introduced themself, she let out an amused chuckle. “Oh, right! I guess I didn’t say, either. I’m Cass. It’s really nice to meet you, Teddy. I’ll definitely keep in touch.”

#wickedswriting #magmahearts #eldritchaccident

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baejax-the-great · 2 years

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WIP Whenever

Listen the Ajax & Patroclus friendship lives almost entirely in my mind but together they are absolute clowns so this snippet is long.

“Alright, this was a weird and almost-funny reason to get me over for dinner, but can we cut the shit?”

Pat stares at him. “What?”

“You win for weirdest joke you’ve ever played on me. Kudos for just how deeply he’s chosen to commit to the bit, but can you just invite your new, very jacked, very theatrical boyfriend in here so we can have dinner and I can meet him normally?”

Pat continues staring. “He’s not… this isn’t… Why do you think it’s a joke? What did he say?”

“Almost nothing that I could understand. But 'Achileas?' Really? You should have gone with a different name. I might have played along longer.”

“What do you mean? Who is Ahi… whatever?”

Ajax folds his arms over his chest. “You’re really committed to this, too, then. Fine. Achileas. It comes from the same story as my name. And yours. Come on, Pat, you might be allergic to all things Greek, but I know even you know the name ‘Achilles’ and you can’t have expected me to let that slide.”

The name does ring a bell or two. “One of those demigods,” he says. “The boring one. Didn’t get to fight any monsters. He fought, what, Trojans? With the horse?”

“It’s hard to believe your degree wasn’t in classics sometimes.”

“Well, alright, you recognized the name; you tell me, then. What’s the story? What did he do?”

“I have no idea. I majored in football at college. But I do know Ajax, Achilles, Patroclus, and even your little dog Helen are all from the same ancient tale.”

“You think the dog is in on this? She came with that name.”

Little Helen lifts her head at this and sets herself to begging at Ajax.

“Give it up, Pat. Let it go. Let’s just eat. Achileas!” Ajax calls down the hall. “The jig is up. There's dinner in it for you if you tell me your real name.”

The stranger walks in slowly, still in his toga with Pat’s blanket thrown around his shoulders, eyes once again red-rimmed from crying.

Pat turns back to Ajax. “I understand this is coming from someone who plucked a babbling, crying man off the street and left him in my living room all day, but do you really think I would introduce a boyfriend to you like this?” Pat asks, gesturing with one outstretched hand at the weepy, hot mess he still has no idea what to do with. “It’s like you said, I’m allergic to all things Greek.” He eyes this ‘Achilles’ up and down. “A Greek-spewing demigod cosplayer is about as Greek as it gets, in really weird way that I am deeply not into.”

“He doesn’t speak Greek,” Ajax says.

“Oh.” That would explain the confusion then. Bad translator. Everything Achilles said was pure gibberish anyway, so Pat should have figured that out sooner. It must be a language that can be mistaken for Greek, like Spanish and Portuguese can be mistaken for each other. He feels oddly relieved about that.

But then Ajax goes on to say, “He speaks ancient Greek.” He turns to Achilles. “They should have taught you in your classes that they are not the same, and you wouldn’t fool anyone with this weird act.”

If Achilles understands, he doesn’t react.

“You’re sure it’s ancient Greek?” Pat asks.

Ajax nods. “I know a few words here and there.”

“Well then can you ask him where he wants to go? Where he lives? God, Ajax, it’s not a joke. I just want to send him home.”

“No.”

“No?”

“No. If Beowulf walked in here right now, would you be able to have a conversation with him?”

“No.”

Ajax jerks his thumb at Achilles. “Greek Beowulf right there. You’re going to need a classicist if you want to get anything out of him." He adds under his breath, "Or he could just stop fucking around.”

Pat slumps into a chair and drops his face into his hands. “Well, what the fuck am I supposed to do with him now?” he moans.

Maybe Ajax is wrong. Maybe his Greek is worse than he let on. He thought this would be the least painful way to help the stranger, but maybe it’s time to bring him to a hospital or a police department. The pit of his stomach clenches just thinking about it. He doesn’t think he can do it. It doesn’t seem like the right idea.

“This really isn’t a joke?” Ajax asks. “You really don’t know this guy? He just showed up at your work?”

Pat shakes and nods his head without looking up. Ajax puts a hand on his shoulder, and when he speaks again, he sounds furious.

“What the fuck are you playing at?” he demands. Pat lifts his head up now to see Achilles, not at all intimidated by what was frankly a scary tone of voice. All seven feet of Ajax is bristling at the stranger, and he points at him and says, “You need to leave. Whatever this is, it isn’t funny.”

#patrochilles #tsoa #hades game #patroclus #achilles #ajax #they are the woman yelling at cat meme #if the cat were wearing a toga and a little blanket cloak #you ever reread your own work and think #wait I might be the only person in the world who finds this funny #long post

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mlobsters · 7 months

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supernatural s11e8 just my imagination (w. jenny klein)

this uh, sounds interesting. oh, i've scrolled past gifs of this guy, try to skip by anything with an actor i don't recognize nowadays

DEAN Dude. Who you talking to? SAM Him? DEAN Are you having a stroke? Do you smell toast?

the sleepy face and morning voice but asking the questions while also making that face, very cute. 10/10 (wanna hear about how smelling burning isn't actually a classic symptom of stroke)

i, too, was taken aback by the marshmallows nachos, dean.

DEAN Come on?? Are you kiddi… Look… This… mother… You and me, library, right now. Come on!

dad's pissed

SAM Dean, when I was nine years old, you know what I wanted more than anything? Marshmallow nachos. DEAN Yeah, you were a weird-ass kid.

marshmallow nachos plot device

SAM In Romanian lore, Zanna are creatures who guide and protect lost children. Zanna intentionally appear as figments of a child’s imagination, allowing the child to move on with confidence once guidance is no longer necessary. Maybe Sully’s telling the truth. DEAN Okay. Say Bozo is legit. Right? Which, you know – hello crazytown, but okay. How is this our problem?

don't be an asshole, dean

DEAN Good. The Bert and Ernie pretext. Awesome.

if the shoe fits...

DEAN You know, this whole imaginary friend thing was dumb then and it’s dumb now. SAM Yeah, you’ve made that pretty clear. DEAN You didn’t think to tell me he was real? SAM Well, Dean, I didn’t think he WAS. You saw the lore book too, I mean, maybe when I was nine years old I thought he was real, but I grew up. Or grew out of it. Whatever. I left it.

don't particularly enjoy when they do this. dean's an ass, sam gets hurt and we feel sad for him.

DEAN And what did you need Drop Dead Fred for in the first place? SAM I was kind of a lonely kid, Dean. DEAN You weren’t lonely. You had me!

preemptively getting upset. you had me, except when you were old enough (according to john winchester) to stay for who knows how long alone. you know, at that big age of 9 years old. episode makes it seem like we're supposed to be upset with dean but this is all dad. and how exactly did john take dean hunting when he was younger than 9, where was sam. bobby? pastor jim? let me tell you the logistics get more preposterous the more you think about it, and with every new little backstory they decide to toss in

comedy music and all, at least the visual gag was compelling what with the sparkly blood all over her hands and face

DEAN The whole family. Yeah, just get the whole gang in there… You know, the family that showers together… Kay.

dean.

combining this cracky murder mystery story with more groundwork of how sad and alone sam was as a kid, and how he spent so much of his life wanting to run away, blergh. meanwhile we see dean at that group home as a kid and considering staying, but seeing sam makes him decide to go home with them. thinking about it too much and making myself upset! great!

you can't make me cry and then have an extended air guitar demo by bleeding imaginary friend man.

slight reassurance that it's not that sam wants to run away from them, but that he just doesn't want to be left alone. which is a totally logical and understandable - especially for a fucking 9 year old - way to feel.

SULLY Yeah, it was really bad. You know, I’m not gonna lie to ya – when you went off to hunt, I considered that one of my biggest failures. It just seemed so clear to me that you wanted something else. But – I was wrong. And it all worked out, didn’t it? SAM I don’t know about that.

SULLY Come on. You’re a hero. Sam, you saved the world. I keep track of my kids. And you did really good, Sam.

real nice for someone to actually call out what sam did right

SAM Well… Not all good. There was some bad. And some really bad. Sully – I screwed up. I let something out into the world that was… SULLY You mean the Darkness? That’s what the others are calling it, I’ve just heard rumors. SAM I’m gonna fix it. I am. Dean and I, we’re – we’re gonna fix it. It’s just…

sam is being so vulnerable and earnest, hurts. good job, padalecki

SAM There’s this Cage in hell, and it’s where they keep Lucifer. And I’ve been in it, and it’s… And I think God wants me to go back. SULLY Ever think… about running away anymore? SAM I did. Um, I mean, I have. But not in a while. Not anymore.

so i'm not sure what direction that's to be taken. is running away going to the cage (surely not) then running away from the perceived responsibility of needing to do it? but we can't counsel sam on that without knowing for sure who's telling him this. because i mean sam has mentioned lucifer like, 4 times this episode. did you consider sam, my love, that lucifer is involved in the messages

DEAN Trust me. Revenge? Ain’t gonna make you feel better. Listen, I’ve seen more than my share of monsters. And I mean REAL monsters, bad. These guys? These are Sesame Street Mother Teresas. But when I wasn’t there for my little brother, Sully was.

will always take when dean admits he was wrong and didn't see how him not being around affected sam, but the setup went a little too hard (imo) on dean being a clueless jerk. first appearance of the mushy music i think in s11.

SAM Sully. One thing I’ve learned – heroes aren’t perfect. SULLY Mm. Sometimes they’re scared. But that just means the thing that they’re facing, it’s super important. And nobody else is gonna go for it, because nobody else has got the balls.

damnit sully.

SAM Dean, we need to seriously discuss me going to the Cage. DEAN Okay. Not happening. Good talk. – Sam, even if these visions are real… SAM Yeah. It’s Lucifer? And me? In the Cage? I know. But this – this lump in my throat… It’s not an excuse. Not anymore. DEAN We’ll find another way. Okay? There’s always another way. SAM Okay. Then tell me – what is the other way?

did they not have this conversation back in whatever, first trip to the cage? s5? when they had 99% more information than they do right now. i cannot believe. I CANNOT BELIEVE we're making decisions without knowing FOR SURE who the visions are coming from. and why isn't sam more suspicious they're from lucifer? ok, so he's all traumatized by lucifer and thinking with his emotions and fear and feeling like he deserves the punishment. but hell, DEAN. since he's all dubious. how about a position that's reasonable what with sam's and their history, that the visions are from someone - but if not god, then WHO

#supernatural #spnwatch #spn 11x08 #jenny klein #spn mushy music #crack and crying not my favorite combo if i'm honest

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