#I thought about having it take place closer to 2000 years from now | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

farshootergotme · 22 days

Note

Can I just say thank you thank you. 👏👏👏

I grew up with the 2004 Batman cartoon and I have thought Dick and Bruce had a parental relationship whether it be father/son or Big brother/little brother it depends on the adaption.

I have just recently got back into Batman and into comics in general and I was honestly a bit shell shocked to see so much well adopted family incest which is just wow but I’m just numb to the internet at this point so nothing surprises me anymore.

What I can’t stand is liars, I swear these people who ship dick and Bruce together are just straight up in denial in some places just accept you’re shipping something taboo. Don’t lie to me about how much they hold a place in queer history which is greatly exaggerated given how it happen based on a lie by a quack and his horrible book note the beds were separate I checked the infamous comic panel it’s just draw really badly but given how tight the deadlines for comic back in the day were I will forgive that poor artist. Also another book they source from the 2000s book written about the queer coding of Batman and Robin seems to really like to leave out the fact that Dick is a child and is written as one. No matter what gen he was written as young lad with hobbies similar to that generation and time period mostly.

Like yes at the time it was done because homophobia but don’t pretend there wasn’t another issue aka it would be the grooming of a minor like for context homosexuality was see as connected to pedophilia. Like seriously when I was looking into this topic, it honestly felt like telephone because how much the original context of the panel was lost like seriously does no one check sources anymore.

Another thing they don’t bring up is how in the 1940s adopting was very uncommon and seen as weird to many it wasn’t as accepted back then which is why ward was used because that was more acceptable back then. It’s also the reason why Jason was adopted by Bruce because it was more acceptable when he was created. Also it was such a non issue to the writers at the time that even though technically Dick wasn’t adopted by Bruce on panel he still treated as one by the writers mostly before Marv Wolfman decided it make for interesting story to have Bruce not adopted Dick and have Dick have a whole hang up on it and is confused by why Bruce didn’t at that time.

Like literally I am tired of people claiming Dick doesn’t want to be adopted by Bruce or that he never wanted him to his father to him it’s simply just not true although it is complicated. Like Dick won’t call Bruce dad but in his eyes as he got older he saw Bruce as a father figure as well as his second dad and Bruce has always seen Dick as like a son and to his actual son blood or no blood for crying out loud he bloody raised him along with Alfred for over ten years like how could Dick not develop a parental bond with him and Alfred ahh. He may not be father of the year but he still cared and look after him all those years like no wonder Dick felt hurt in the original Marv wolfmen story when he wasn’t adopted.

Now, I will say in the early adaption of Batman and Robin and even the silver age to an extent. Did betray them as brothers because well the age gap was closer in 1966 version and late 70s cartoons of them so I can see why older fans can see it that way and the silver age mostly do a big brother little brother dynamic with them. While golden age seems to flip flop and if they were father/son or Big brother/little brother and the Bronze Age they went to father/son by the end because that was probably more interesting to write. Like a son repelling against his overly critical and overprotective father figure was probably relatable to lot of teens and young adults reading Dick stories at that time. Then the rest of eras after that just settled with them being Father/son duo mostly. We don’t talk about Devin weird ass takes in their relationship I swear she is just inserting herself in some characters just to be creepy towards Richard and well she nearly destroyed Oliver character by writing him being weird about Richard when he was Robin which was just yikes.

I also just find it so gross how she took a very reserved and very ace coded character like Dick Grayson and sexualised him, like making his exotic and making him overly sexual is just huge yikes to me and making him Romani because circus is such a huge stereotype and quite harmful. I have such mix feelings about Richard being romani because of how it was done and Tom Tyler has done a poor job in my opinion as well. Like originally Dick was just pure American then his mother became european notable french in one of them which makes more sense to me. I don’t know, I will eat my socks when it’s done well which would be wonderful but right now it’s just no to me. Also, why Richard like what just because he’s sexy Devin and he is romani because circus. Like my ass is as white as snow but even I know that is a weird ass take and honestly fetishy in nature I feel.

Which leads to me being so weary of people who do use it because like yes some people do it so well take notes writers at DC. But others well… I feel just sexualise him for the sake of it and I get very suspicious of people who make draw Dick overly feminine or straight up make him the wife in the relationship. It just makes my trans man heart nervous because usually they also ship Richard with older man (Bruce with him as well probably…) which in Canon he has called creeps and acts super uncomfortable around them. Like whatever ship your taboo ships just keep a safe distance from me okay. It just sadden how Richard is written as overly sexual and slutty like that is not my boy. 😭

I think the reason it also upset me so much is Bruce in a lot of ways is like my dad when he is written as a well meaning father figure. I relate to Dick being the eldest of many siblings and also my Dad is my stepdad but he has raised since I was nearly one. I know it’s not the same but to me he is my father and nothing will change that. It’s why I can’t stop people who act like Bruce and Dick aren’t father/son because well he’s not adopted by law so it’s doesn’t count but to Bruce already is and honestly I just wish in modern adaption just get adopted as a early teen at this point. Like even modern DC doesn’t hide or exclude Dick Grayson is Bruce Wayne eldest son and I’m so happy for that. (Even though he has been adopted by law but as an adult but I digress.)

I will shot myself mentally if I see another person claim it is DC heteronormative doing their relationship like shut up. You who says this bs you clearly don’t care about queer history or adoption history in general and it’s so harmful how people try to undermine adopted families like that. Like seriously ship what you like just don’t pretend it isn’t taboo as all hell. 😤 Also, anyone who claims this don’t you dare call young queers homophobia because they’re saying how it is. You don’t see people defending pedophilia and incest in Greek mythology do ya.

(Then I think in my head how strange it always the ace coded characters that get sexualised or made the secretly horny seductress/playboy type food for thought.) 🤔

Oh apologies for the kinda rant there but this honestly this has been bothering me about the bat fandom. I will say I’m still a noob when it comes to comic book history and I haven’t read most of Dick and Bruce books but I have done my best to do my homework on them and the rest of Batman history and it members. I have honestly only read modern books like world finest and short teen titans spin off book. I’m currently pre order Mark Waid latest book Batman and Robin year one which I am so excited for truly he is saving me given me some good Father/son moments with Dick and Bruce. Also maybe the new Nightwing which I hope will be good, I read TT run online free because I’m poor :p and it was so boring, Richard just feels so bland in that book. Like I will give TT credit their some good panels and moments but that’s just it. My inner Dick Grayson fanboy is showing ha ha. 😅

Anyway, sorry my rambling but honestly this fandom baffles me sometimes.

I have nothing to add—you said it all. Loved the rant and I agree with all of it! Thanks anon!

#anonymous #anon #dick grayson #nightwing #bruce wayne #batman #dc #dc comics #robin

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leclsrc · 2 years

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Hi! I just found your blog and am in LOVE! Congrats on 2000 followers by the way! You deserve them all and more, I'm a new follower so you're over 2000 now hehe~ Could I please request the 'hugs from behind' prompt with Charles Leclerc? It sounds so cute! I hope you're doing okay. Congratulations again! 😘❤️❤️

olive you – cl16

genre: fluff, 2k celebration, olive theory drabble

auds here... finishing out my drafts from the 2k celebration... i have like 65 more i have to filter thru lol... love u guys

Waves crash softly against the pebbly shore, salt filling your nose as you twirl pasta onto your fork. There is something so enchanting about Italy, something so romantic and unbridled, that keeps you alive and happy whenever you visit. Perhaps it’s the food, the locals, the souvenir shops, the signs reading alla spiaggia right by the summery coast.

You chew on your fettuccine, and watch as a fork slowly deposits olive segments onto your plate. Perhaps, then, it’s none of those things. Perhaps it’s him. “Mmm. Grazie,” you hum gratefully, mixing the olives into your pasta.

Like many routines, this came to fruition with years of habit. On your first date, at an Italian place in Monte Carlo, you’d gushed about how much you liked to eat olives. Charles had done the complete opposite—he couldn’t stand them, he droned. Not in pasta, not in martinis, not anywhere. So it came to be that he would buy you jars of olives or give you the little bits he found on his plate.

It wasn’t a big deal to either of you at first, but your friends thought it was just about the cutest idea in the world, the pinnacle of the opposites attract concept, the perfect balance. And every time you get together they ask Charles if he likes olives, and each time, he kisses your hair and murmurs never.

He loves to kiss your hair, your legs. Nobody has ever come that close, you tell him every time. Only the air, only the water, only my spritzes of perfume. Nobody.

—

“Martini?” Carlos asks.

“Oh, I—” Charles smiles dopily, shaking his head. “Olives, I don’t like them.”

“Took a shot with the order. Sorry, mate.” They shake hands, wait for the meeting to start, make small talk about work and the off season. Being back at Fiorano always gives Charles a daunting kind of feeling, one that typically quells once he catches sight of you. Carlos pauses, takes a sip from his cold drink, then, “Are you sure you don’t like olives?”

Being a relatively new close friend means Carlos hasn’t yet been privy to the olive theory that’s spanned years and continents. Charles nods, opening his mouth to explain why, and why this fact matters so much, then—

“When we got a 1-2 in Bahrain last year,” his teammate starts, “and we all got drunk, Isa didn’t let me have alcohol because she didn’t want to drive me home.” He laughs. “Anyway, I saw you eating olives. You had a little toothpick thing, picking out olives from the aperitivo.”

Charles’ heart pounds. “Huh? Well… I guess I wouldn’t… mind them.”

“Eugh.” Carlos grimaces. “Olives are shit. Isa thinks so, too.”

—

You’re busy at the stove cooking a half-assed meal when he wrestles himself through the flat entrance, following the smell of garlic and approaching you instantly from behind. His hug is intense, his lips latched onto your neck. He inhales your scent, comforted by the traces of your perfume, his own scent lingering on his polo that hugs your body.

“Don’t be mad,” he says thinly, half-muffled.

“I told you don’t get a tattoo of my face across your arm.”

“It’s not that,” he says, resigned. He pouts, and you turn to comfort him, fluffing his hair up. A rogue strand falls in front of his face and when you lean closer to brush it away, he takes the chance to kiss you.

You smile while you kiss. Whaaat? You ask into his lips, amused by his silence and shyness. He still is quiet, lips just resting on yours. You pull away, a bit more worried now.

“Charles.” Your hands find purchase on his arms, shoulders, then his face in your grip. He holds your hands there.

“I…” He pauses. “I think I—I like olives.”

You relax, and the smile that arrives at your lips is purely involuntary. You can’t help it. “So we both like them,” you say simply, with a smile. “We’ll have to work out a system where you don’t steal all my jars from me.”

What your goof boyfriend fails to realize, you think as he bends over the stove and helps you finish off the pasta (extra olives, this time) is the olive theory has never mattered to you. It was never about the olives. It was never about the jars.

If love was about anything—it’d always, always be Charles.

#f1 #charles leclerc #leclsrc2000 #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc imagines #charles leclerc drabble #charles leclerc smut #f1 x reader

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fandangotales · 1 year

Text

Sweet… and bitter.

Summary: A sweet embrace (Xiao), and a bitter spiral (Scara)

Warnings: Cult AU, first half is very wholesome. Pure fluff! Second half includes spiraling thoughts, and implied murder. Scara is a yandere, or pretty close to it!

The flowers around you swayed gently in the breeze, as you breathed in the slight scent of Qinxin. You smiled, as you held one of the delicate flowers in your hand. Twirling it around, you slowly brought it closer to Xiao’s face. The adeptus frowned, confused by your action.

“Your Grace… what is the meaning of this?” He asked, his golden eyes swirling with curiosity, and a mix of anxiety. He truly didn’t wish to disappoint you, if this was some strange human tradition he was unaware of.

You chuckled, as you brought the Qinxin up to the soft teal tufts of hair on his head. With a gentle motion, you swiftly placed it in his hair, before he could protest. You smiled, admiring your work. It would be a shame to tear your eyes away from such a lovely sight… the light dust of pink forming across Xiao’s face, combined with the pale petals of the Qingxin. Truly a shame… especially when it suited your dear acolyte perfectly.

“Perfect…” you whispered, as you leaned in and brushed your thumb over his cheek. Your soft smile sent his mind into a frenzy, causing him to immediately debate what to do in response. Should he back away? No, that would be disrespectful… He could always smile back, but he didn’t have the confidence for that, especially in the presence of The Creator.

Xiao’s face got darker with the passing seconds, as he was suddenly reminded of how long he was taking to respond. His lips parted, and he let out a soft sound that sounded akin to the beginnings of a word.

“A-ah… um…”

How embarrassing… he couldn’t even form an intelligible response, from just slightest hint of your affection. It was always that way… you were just so overwhelming. So overwhelmingly beautiful, and sweet to him. Similar to the late nights when he’d imagine you next to him, gently stroking his hair as he recovered from the mind breaking bliss he’d brought himself, as he imagined what would happen if you ever saw him as something more than just one of your worshippers.

“Oh my, don’t tell me you’re thinking of something else right now. Your face is awfully red…”

Your words snapped him out of the memory, as he stuttered heavily in response. He simply couldn’t remember a time where he’d been this mortified. Not even in his 2000 years of life.

“Uh… you see… ahem. The adepti do not think of such impure acts.”

He spoke sternly, even though his cheeks remained in a cute shade of pink. His tone cracked at the end though, further confirming your suspicions. You decided to tease him a bit more, leaning in until your soft lips brushed against the shell of his ear.

“Is that so? I find that hard to believe, especially when I can see… how you got quite worked up about something.”

Your eyes trailed down to his lap, pointing out how he was visually aroused. Xiao blushed harder, if that was even possible at this point. He always hated it when you teased him, because it would only elevate whatever he was feeling in the moment.

“…My apologies.” He murmured, looking off to the side, in a futile effort to avoid your gaze. “I-I shouldn’t be responding in this way. Not in your presence, Your Grace.”

Your hand reached out to cup his face, slowly angling it back to make him look straight at you. Your face had a warm smile on it, reassuring and serene, although it did little to quell his worries.

“Xiao, I don’t think I’d mind if you respond in this way. Don’t you know that I favor you? That I… prefer your company over most?”

Your words took a few seconds to register, as his eyes flew open in shock. All of those times you had asked for him to be near, or simply sit with you outside… it wasn’t because you wanted him to protect you.

Oh.

You… wanted him.

As… a person? Not just as a weapon to be used and discarded, and not as some kind of accessory to be owned.

And that gentle, kind smile of yours, combined with the way you were patiently waiting for him to process your words? Too overwhelming… he wasn’t used to being cared for like this. His eyes grew watery, as his emotions swelled within him. Waves of happiness, combined with an even greater feeling of thankfulness overwhelmed his mind. You were too good to him… such a benevolent god for even caring for someone like him.

“Y-your Grace…” Xiao choked out, as tears streamed down his pale cheeks. He appeared to be torn between wanting to feverishly press his lips against yours, and wanting to cling onto you as a way of grounding himself.

Before another tear could streak down his face, those plush lips of yours were against his, in a comforting exchange. His arms wrapped around you, as he returned it wholeheartedly, still in disbelief that this was even happening. He didn’t let go, not even for a second. After a few moments of pure passion, you pulled back, just enough to speak.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that, sweetheart.”

Your smile widened, as you pressed another kiss to his forehead.

“You wouldn’t mind if I were to call you that, hm?”

The only response you got was a stiff nod, as he quickly latched onto your body again. This time, he rested his head on your chest, in an attempt to hide his face. You laughed, hugging him back. He was just… too endearing.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A distance away, a soft clatter sounded through the clearing. What was intended to be green tea for two now lay on the ground… with the pot and cups shattered into many pieces. The path gradually soaked up the now cooling tea, as the puppet stood there in silence.

A tense atmosphere filled the area, as he observed you embracing Xiao.

This feeling… it was jealousy.

Pure and unbridled jealousy, as Scara narrowed his eyes at that pathetic and insignificant “adeptus” from afar. How dare he steal your attention. How dare he waste your precious time, when it could be spent with him instead?

Why would you even want to while away your time with such a weakling?!

Scara’s nails dug into his hands, as he continued staring at the two of you from a distance. Karmic debt? What a joke. If anything, that was likely a mere lie intended to steal your attention away from him. To make you fret and give your divine presence to Xiao.

You were too kind for your own good, always bound to fall for the simplest of tricks if it meant helping another person. Such a kind god… one that would be oh so easy to manipulate.

The thought only amplified his feelings… this meant that the other man was taking advantage of you.

Disgraceful.

He wouldn’t allow it. Nobody would hurt you, physically or emotionally, especially after all that you’ve done for him.

Scara’s hand reached up to readjust his hat, effectively shielding his eyes from view. He would take care of this, one way or another.

That’s what a good puppet is supposed to do, isn’t it? To serve it’s master to the extent of it’s abilities.

It doesn’t matter if he gets a bit bloody in the process.

A small smirk formed on his lips, as he contemplated his next move… he wasn’t going to let that degenerate get off easy.

After all, washing blood off synthetic skin has never been an issue.

#sagau #genshin cult au #cult au #sagau cult au #xiao genshin impact #genshin #genshin impact #sagau scaramouche #sagau xiao #scaramouche genshin impact #genshin x reader #yandere #genshin yandere

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thatdeadaquarius · 2 years

Note

About language brainrot. Imagine writer creator reader who finally learns how to write in Teyvat's weird symbols and they want to publish their book. They decided to do it anonymously to avoid the "aaaaaah our creator wrote the holy scripture" sort of situation. Except it didn't work. The reader's style is too different from the rest of the world, so even if they tried to simulate the flowery speech it wasn't effective.

Another thing. Reader who decided to read some local books to practice their reading. They asked for something simple and similar to their speech. But the only books merely similar to it are 2000 and more years old. It's funny how the older text is the more you can understand it. On this note. If reader write something i feel like it would be hard to understand for Teyvat's people.

Imagine a reader who is autistic or has any other NDs imparing their communication skills. They practically trained themselves to say sertain phrases in sertain situation. But it doesn't work in Teyvat. And everything just stacks at each other. Difference in speech, being a God (so people react weirdly to you), bad communication skills, not understanding nonverbal cues and so on. There's gonna be a lot of misunderstanding. I imagine how followers would walk on the eggshells not to upset and angry their God and reader who does the same not to say something people will get wrong. Again.

Reader who regained all their memories of creating Teyvat, they're super powerful and stuff. But they still struggle with the modern language. Because all the memories are like millions years old.

✨️NEXYLAZA UR SO FUCKING SMART AND CREATIVE✨️ UR BRAIN>>>>>> EVERYTHING

GIF Akashi (black hair) is all the people who read the Sagau/Isekai Genshin tag and Bokuto (silver) is STILL ME RANTING ABOUT LANGUAGE IN TEYVAT LMAO

They cant escape me, sorry people who just wanted to read SAGAU normal things, im filling up the tag💀

I HAD OTHER ASKS BEFORE THIS ONE AND AS I GOT THRU EM I WAS "OMMGGGG WE'RE GETTIN CLOSER TO NEXY'SSSS ASSSKKKK EEEEEEE"

YOU ARE A GODDAMN GENIUS

DHALALWKDHDHS

ME ABOUT THIS ASK:

(^ lol biblically accurate deadaquarius)

I DONT EVEN KNOW WHERE TO BEGINNNN

BRAINROTTING OVER UR ENTIRE ASK!!

♡

Also, its getting kinda old now, so here is the blunt language v. Teyvat's flowery language post for reference! :)

Hhhhhhhhhhh

IF U WRITE STUFF

AND UR IN WORDY TEYVAT LAND

AINT NO WAY,👏

U COULD EVEN, 👏👏

GET CLOSE👏👏👏

TO THESE BITCHES SPEECH👏👏👏👏

◇

Like,, imagine right now if i told you to write me 4 pages of an essay in entirely early 18th century vernacular.

(For reference: when the story Pride & Prejudice takes place)

... like??

Bitch aint no way u can do that and actually show that to a historian or an actual living person from that time period

and them actually say "wow! An excellently worded 18th century essay!"

💀.

◇

So tying into that whole, "the only simple texts are like literal cunnieform clay tablets or sm shit"

Your writing to them just sounds like if a scribe just copied off what one of those tablets said just onto paper HAHA

And like, if u try and dress it up, it just ends up sounding like its from a slightly later time period

Like if ur casual writing sounds like 1 million years ago, u being flowery sounds like 8-7 thousand years ago u cant win LMAO

◇

Omg ur trying to go to that-

wait whats it called,,fuck i dont know Sumeru good enough yet

The.. HOUSE OF DAENA GOT IT

Yeah so ur thinking "Oh what better way to learn a dialect?/vernacular than reading books by them!"

And u basically snatch Alhaitham at the soonest possible chance to take you there

(Bc when i went in, it was just random lore books everywhere so)

Needless to say you have no clue how this place is organized, so u convince him to direct you to books u can easily read first

Like as close to your speech as possible!! U tell him :)

...lol

It literally takes like 3 hours to get something readable LMAO

Bc when the poor feeble scribe initially brought you smth he thought was pretty old and close to ur speech, like just first thought,

... It sounded like it was from the middle of the 18th century to you lol

So, with a "hmm" and a squint at the dusty book you'd already given up on

Alhaitham slowly went around the library making a stack of books, dropped them off in front of you... not a single sentence.

...then he made a stack of scrolls...

..nope..

...a stack of stone tablets...

.....getting closer?? it was really weird seeing Shakespearean language carved into stone....

...and then, with a conversation to a second library secretary deeper in the library, past a caged area of shelves to protect them...

...he escorts you behind the restricted section towards the back filled with glass display cases.

(Several of which contain the most ancient looking sets of artifacts you've ever seen)

...Finally, u arrive at a long glass case of several clay tablets.

Half of which sound like they're from the 1910s-20s, and the other, even older half, sounding straight out of the 2000s..

....

......

...Good god.

(Good..you??)

These crazy speaking bastard-previously-video-game-characters were right.

...

You are suddenly, viscerally hit with the image of Zhongli's idle, "Osmanthus wine tastes the same as I remember, but where are those who share the memory?" 💀

◇

Alhaitham side eyes you,, (he looks,, very interested, yet also kinda concerned??? HIM, CONCERNED????!!!)

"Ahem, the texts before thy Greatest Lord art the eldest- well, perhaps, more appropriately, the eldest and most intact, pieces of written language known to our humankind."

...

....aYOO MAN 😭😭

...Ur just staring at these half cracked, baked clay tablet thingys, full of slang from like 2003-

Alhaitham coughs.

"Uh, thanks. ...Sorry about all the.. trouble with this..."

BRO HOW OLD DOES HE THINK U ARE NOW-

"This task assigned to mine own person was of no trouble to my mind or spirit, Greatest Lord, fret not about it any longer."

And with a sort of shell-shocked atmosphere surrounding both of you, Alhaitham walks off to check out some other restricted books, hovering nearby yet also trying to give u space LOL

Top 10 cursed images: Seeing "Chillax, bro, dude, and weeb" carved into ancient clay tablets that look like they would be part of the Egyptian exhibit back in ur world 💀

◇

You eventually just kind of end up writing a couple pages after studying the writings, going younger and younger (nothing has ever made u feel more powerful...yet also more old..)

You stretch, just as Alhaitham finally has made his own little stack of creaky old books

He seems very curious to read what u wrote, peaking a glance over the top of his book every so often (lol nerd, cute nerd... but NERDDD)

You just offer the academic lunatic what he wants 🙄

"Haha, wanna take a look? Some drafts are... closer than others..."

The scribe immediately puts his book down, not even saving his page,

"I would be honored, Greatest Lord."

Is he excited?? 💀 omfg

U very slowly hand ur most recent practice pages over, he curls his hand under his chin "hmm" ing

...Alhaitham shakes his head

"My..deepest apologizes My Creator, but this still seems, at the earliest, from when papyrus was invented, and not yet even into scrolls..."

OK BUT ALHAITHAM WOULD GENUINELY GIVE NO FUCKS ABT CRITIQING YOU, HE MAY BE MORE POLITE ABT IT BUT EVEN IF U DID MAKE THE WORLD HES GOING FOR IT

KAVEH HAS A HEART ATTACK BC HIS ROOMMATE GOT ONTO GOD LMAO

U let ur head plop on ur pile of papers, srry babe youll never be as fancy as Mr. Darcy 😕

And as ur resting there, contemplating just walking out and finding smth to eat instead- same

Alhaitham picks up another draft.

Except it's your first attempt.

As in, you didn't even try, first attempt.

You just made some bullet point notes or some Bs, in ur regular. modern. language.

Alhaitham knocks his chair over standing up so fast-

(HE GETS SHUSHED BY THE RESTRICTED LIBRARIAN LOL, also another person unafraid to scold God lol)

...he says its a perfect example of the oldest records they've found of writing on the continent, most of which they haven't even translated yet

He asks u to teach him how to read this/speak like this lol

♧

(^^^not my best work but hope yall got smth outta it💀)

I WAS LITERALLY GONNA MAKE A WHOLE POST ON THE NEURODIVERGENT EXPERIENCE OF BEING A GOD IN TEYVAT

ESPECIALLY OF THE LANGUAGE BARRIER VARIETY!!!

THERES JUST

ACK

aCK HDHAKD

SO MUCH

TO SAY

!!!

AHHHHH

OK BUT LIKE

IF WE ACTUALLY TOOK THIS TO THE EXTREME IM IMPLYING IT WOULD BE

LIKE TEYVAT SPEAKS SEVERAL DECADES BEHIND U- MAYBE EVEN ACTUALLY

CLOSE TO PRIDE AND PREJUDICE TIMES SPEECH

THEY WOULD LITERALLY BARELY COMPHREHEND YOU

IMAGINE TRYING TO TALK TO MR. DARCY 😭

THATS LITERALLY ALL OF TEYVAT

JUST

???¿¿?????!!! <- THEM ALL THE TIME

ESP IF UR NEURODIVERGENT

I THINK IT WOULD BE EVEN MORE PROOF FOR THEM TO THINK UR GOD

BC UR BEHAVIOR WOULD BE "OFF" TO THEIR NEUROTYPICAL ASSES,

YOUR FACIAL EXPRESSIONS,

LIKE UR MASKING MAYBE BUT

U CANT KEEP THAT SHIT UP ALL THE TIME-

ESP IN CRAZY ISEKAI CIRCUMSTANCES

AND LIKE-

(ok ill tone it down before i also get shushed)

U used to be a player!!

Which would maybe mean u got rlly comfy playing Genshin all the time!

...like i know im kinda stimming when im gaming (and my natural stim is rocking so yeah no way they wouldnt notice that 💀)

So, since u may be still yknow unconsciously wanting to be comfy (esp around ur mains/team/favs)

U probably have stimmed a little around them, which, not that neurotypicals dont stim, but like

They would notice after awhile

And esp people like Alhaitham, Zhongli, Ningguang, Xiao, Ei, Aether/Lumine, Kaeya, Diluc, Kazuha, Heizou, Shenhe, Kokomi, Sara, Albedo, Dainsleif- !! GASP- !! <- my bbygirl omg i forgot abt u before now im so sorry </3

(once again i have not checked a character list, forgive my sins my readers)

^^^ Are like pretty focused on you/observant, so they'd eventually pick up on it first probably

...

....which allsssooo means they're like, collecting all ur neurodivergent thingys lol to compile as EVIDENCE AGAINST YOU AS TO WHY THEY KNOW UR THE CREATOR LMAO

◇

Honestly the biggest factor against u is definitely social interaction,, srry love :/

(if it helps, its bc i know itd be my downfall too thats why thats there ^ 😔)

Mostly bc i have this idea/theory? obervation? that when I especially met Adepti for the first time

Esp ones that werent as close to human society for as long as some others (like think Xiao vs. Ganyu)

And for literally every other non-human people we've met so far in Genshin-

They kinda- they kinda, radiate neurodivergent energy??

Like, they're not adherring to social norms, and not in like a bad way,

But its still rlly obvious (i mean also its probably exaggerated for us as an audience) that theyre not human pretty quickly

coughzhonglicough

COUGHVENTICOUGH-

oh geez wow excuse me, cold weather must be gettin to me- ahem hem-

Anyway, like what Nexy said in the ask,

...

...Yall are all just tiptoing around each other 😭😭

Bc these ppl arent from Earth countries,

All their behavior is weird to you 😭

U dont know how to mask with them yet 😭😭

THE UNBELIEVABLE AMOUNT OF MISCOMMUNICATION THAT HAPPENS ALREADY WHEN UR NEUROSPICY VS. NEUROBLAND PPL

IS LIKE, ALMOST WORSE??

Bc they cant even understand ur phrasing bc its so simple 😭😭😭

◇

Tldr: "Being Neurodivergent means ur a god, confirmed." - says all of Teyvat's denizens

◇

NEXYLAZA.

MY BELOVED.

I AM IN LOVE WITH UR BRAIN.

IF I COULD GIVE IT A HUG I WOULD🫂✨️👏👏👏👏

BC I WAS ALREADY LIKE IN THE BACK OF MY MIND LIKE-

*rubs my little rat gremlin hands together*

"hmHmHMMMM BuT wHaT iF mAYbE yOU reMeMbeREd cReATinG TeyVAT, hmHMHMMMMM"

AND FOR VERBALIZING IT WITHIN BLUNT LANGUAGE AU- !!!!!!!

(one of my favs, if u cant tell)

I would (platonically) kiss you right now dude.

Instead I give this:

♡ ily

And also, I AM GOING TO MAKE A WHOLE POST ABOUT THIS-

MAYBE EVEN A FANFIC, OR ONE SHOT AHDHAKFHSKLAAL-

UNTIL NEXT TIME MY BELOVED PARTNER IN CRIME <333

PSPSPSPSsppspspspssss Last Time! CLOSES TOMORROW @1pm CST: VOTE on my 100+ followers celebration POLL :)

Tell me what u wanna see me write about! PSPSPSPSpspspspssss

(U can vote even if ur new! :] )

THANK YOU FOR SUBMITTING THIS ASK

THIS IS A TREASURE OF MINE NOW

GONNA HIDE IT IN MY LITTLE CAVE OF SCREENSHOTTED SAGAU POSTS <333 hehehehehehehehehehe

THIS IS LIKE PT2 TO MY ORIGINAL LANGUAGE POST AHHHHH

NEXY BIG BRAIN ILYSM <3

Cheers,

🌒🌧🌊Aquarius♒️🌌🌘

♡the beloveds♡

@karmawonders / @0rah-s / @randomnatics / @glxssynarvi / @nexylaza lol ur own ask im a menace sorry

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feralboimurphy · 6 months

Text

Benson Boone’s new album has a few Jeric songs on it. I will explain.

Beautiful Things: Jack has OCD (at least a lot of signs point to it) and of course that means getting in his own head about having everything good (eric, shawn, his friends). He might self destruct, but he would die if he would lose it all over again.

Forever and A Day: This song is the both of them to each other. The first part of the song is Eric.

“No words convey the way it felt for me to finally hold you.” Eric spent 15 years without the man he thought of as his soulmate after almost getting him back in 2000. The moment he got it, he clearly wasn’t going to let it go. I wish we got so much more of them in Girl.

The next part is Jack.

“Know every word you’re gonna say before you even think it. But somehow every joke you make is funnier each time around. Your laugh is such a perfect sound.” Now, it’s no surprise that Eric is a goofy man and this may have been Matt Lawrence + Will Friedle, but Jack laughed at Eric’s jokes more than people give him credit for. Even when serious, Jack never discouraged Eric’s funny quips (we ignore a LOT of season 7. all of them got weird.)

“I swear I’ve known you longer than forever and a day.” These two clicked right away and were besties. Upon meeting, they’re the same person and never stay away from each other for too long when there isn’t an obstacle in front of them.

“How could I forget those eyes? They took me by surprise, but suddenly I missed your face. I knew that smile from miles away.” Now…them meeting again as adults. As soon as they saw each other, they clicked again.

“I don’t believe in destiny…your melodies they’re changing me. I’m yours forever and a day.” Eric makes Jack a better person. Jack even admitted that multiple times. Eric is his person and always will be.

There (He) Goes: This one is another Jack to Eric song. Personally, I believe it’s Older Jack coming back to Eric. And Eric taking him back in like they never separated.

“…You’re my only ghost, come on, haunt me, cause I’m lonely. I’ve been gone too many days and it starts to feel the same; every morning. I don’t recognize this place. Is it me or have I changed?” Jack was a new person when he came back to Eric. Gave into his greed over the years and let it take over him.

“There (he) goes. Like I’ve never been alone. Like I’ve had it all along. Every time I go away I hate that it’s a day that I never see your face.” Once Jack has Eric back, you KNOW it’s hard for him to leave again. Leaving to even get his stuff to move would be hard because it means being away from Eric once again.

“So, i pack my bags. I’m takin off. I’m comin home.” Jack goes back for Eric. You know, he knew he wasn’t leaving once he came to Eric. He could trick himself, but the moment he packed up for the trip, Eric was his destination.

“Out of the blue, (He) comes around. (He) turned my world upside down.” Jack made a name for himself in that company and Eric flipped it all around.

BONUS:

To Love Someone: This one is Eric realizing he loves Jack two different times.

“Brand new apartment, we sat on the floor. A blow up mattress and some plastic forks. Our clothes on the counter, keys in the door. You’re all I ever wanted never been so sure.” I mean…come on. New apartment together. Them bonding and Eric falling in love.

“Suddenly nothing is the way it was. Is this what it’s like to love someone?” When Jack saw Eric was more than his roommate, it changed everything between them. They got closer. Went on dates. Everything.

“Empty apartment I’m sat on the floor. A blow up mattress and a plastic fork. Fighting the flashbacks that creep through the door. I stare at the ceiling and try to ignore.” You can take this one as either Eric moving out when Rachel moves in or when Jack leaves with Rachel for the Peace Corps.

“Chances are we’re gonna tell ourselves this is how it’s supposed to be. And chances are this isn’t the last time I’ll dance with your memory.” Eric thinks about Jack every day and vice versa. Can’t tell me different.

Now the ‘suddenly nothing is the way it was’ changes. Eric and Jack are no longer in each other’s lives. It’s not the way it was. There’s no late night TV watching. Nothing about their lives together because Jack is gone.

#holy shit long post #jeric #jack hunter #eric matthews #boy meets world #bmw #might do more of these with other songs 🤭

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jjtheresidentbaby · 10 months

Note

OOOUUUUGH JJ!!! you write for fnaf now?? TOTALLY STELLAR!

i just watched the movie recently and although i had my doubts at first i actually enjoyed it a lot looking back lol.

i see you’ve written for regressor vanessa, and idk if you’d write for regressor Mike but if do you and your requests are open could i request a fic like that?

totally fine if you don’t wanna!!

— 🐝 (old anon lol)

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Better with You ໒꒱ ⋆ﾟ⊹

|| mike schmidt x vanessa shelly

a/n: omg 🐝 ahh I’ve missed you!!! hope you’ve been good and thank you for blessing me with a little!mike ask <3 I couldn’t find a solid date for when the movie takes place but the late 90s-2000s is the most common answer so I went with that when choosing the movie they watch (it’s Balto 2)

warnings: little!mike, cg!vanessa, mike’s a lil insecure about regressing but it’s v brief, mentions of little!vanessa, mentions of nightmares & canon events, pet names

“I still don’t know about this Vanessa.” Mike says with hesitation clear as day on his face, sitting across from Vanessa on the couch, the remote sitting untouched between them. Vanessa had suggested maybe Mike try regressing for a bit while Abby is off at Ness’ for the night, they’ve talked about it before with Vanessa’s own regression as a jumping point, but Mike’s still nervous.

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to, but I’m still putting this kids movie on.” A smile breaks across Mikes face as Vanessa plucks the remote from the empty cushion and hits play.

He isn’t sure what movie this is but Abby made Vanessa take her to see it in theaters and both girls fell in love with it, Mike would’ve gone but Abby had deemed it a “girls trip” so tonight will be the first time he’s seeing it. It’s an animated movie with dogs, or maybe they’re wolves, Mike can’t really tell but he also doesn’t really care, he likes it either way. And he likes it even more when Vanessa coaxes him to lay down with his head in her lap.

“Where are they?” He asks and is a little taken back by how wobbly and pitchy his voice sounds. It sounds similar to how Vanessa sounds when she’s regressed— oh.

“Alaska, that’s why there’s so much snow.” That makes sense. Vanessa’s hand threads into Mikes hair, her fingers lightly brushing back and forth, he gets kind of lost in the feeling.

The sound coming from the tv is still there but he can’t quite focus on it, almost feeling sleepy as he curls up closer to Vanessa. She murmurs something he doesn’t catch and smiles softly down at him, he likes how safe she feels. It’s not a new feeling by any means, since the first night they met Mike had felt an odd security around her, but it’s different tonight, stronger in a way. There’s some layer of trust that he’s letting her in on, the same one that comes out when she shushes his nightmares away or holds his hand extra tight when they walk past woods with Abby.

“You tired bud?” Vanessa’s voice is gentle and honey like, pulling Mike from his thoughts as he turns to look up at her.

“No, wanna finish the movie.” She gives a small laugh and moves her thumb across Mikes forehead to brush his messy hair away.

“I’m sure Balto will still be there in the morning.” Something akin to a groan leaves Mikes throat, it’s more of a whine, not that he’ll ever admit it.

“Five more minutes? Please ‘Nessa?” Her lips twist up and eyes lift to the ceiling for a moment, the longest moment of Mike’s life if you ask him, before she’s nodding shortly in agreement.

“Five more minutes then teeth and bed.” It earns her another groan but it’s only halfhearted, Mike’s too busy turning back towards the tv to really be annoyed about the prospect of having to go to bed. He thinks he’ll actually get some good sleep tonight, he feels relaxed in a way he hasn’t felt in years, even better than back when he was taking those sleeping meds; and Vanessa’s also here. He always sleeps better when Vanessa’s there with him.

“I sleep better with you too sweetheart.” Oh did he say that aloud?

“Mhm, someone’s tired.” It’s said with a sing-song tone that Mike pouts at.

“Am not.”

#jj writes #fnaf agere #little!mike schmidt #caregiver!vanessa shelly #mike x vanessa #mike schmidt #vanessa shelly #🐝 anon

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ofthehands · 9 months

Text

Day 6- Music is my Life

@texas-chainsaw-fanworks

A short, mostly silly fic taking place just before TCM2. Word count just shy of 2000, slight warning for sickness/ death in the beginning/middle, and general Sawyer -isms, but this one is ultimately pretty lighthearted.

Turn It Up

1986 was a good year for heavy metal. A good year for music in general really. Especially since he and Bubba found that groovy new rock n’ roll station on the radio- he and Bubba tuned in every night- and during the day when big brother wasn’t around- to listen to what Miss Stretch was playing for them. So, yeah, Chop Top was a little distracted.

But he didn’t think he was that distracted. He didn’t even notice it when it first started. Yeah, Cook was moving a bit slow and not hitting them as hard as he usually did, but Chop Top chalked that up to him being an old fart and moved on. The cough came pretty soon after, but Cook just said it was ‘cause Nubbins was stinkin’ up the place, and Chop Top gave him a bath and moved on. He really didn’t notice anything was wrong for real until one day Cook just didn’t get out of bed. And even then, admittedly, it was Bubba who actually went to check on him. Bubba came back bludderin’ and cryin’, and Chop Top figured he woke their old crotchety brother from a nap and got broomed for his troubles.

“What’s wrong, Bubba? He hit ya?” Chop Top started impersonating Cook, trying to make his little brother feel a little better, “I told ya and I told ya! Don’t you boys come an’ wake me up from my old man nap!” Bubba shook his head, hard, and Chop Top paused. “What, he comin’? '' He looked around the corner, but Cook was nowhere to be seen. Bubba pulled on his sleeve, and Chop Top went with him, right up to the little dead end tunnel Cook had put the old steel sliding door up in front of and claimed as his room. Bubba pointed at the door a few times, and Chop Top got the message. He lifted the door carefully, and slipped in. Cook was laying on his back, real still, and real quiet. Oh fuck, he’s dead. Was the first thought Chop Top had. The second was about trying to refurbish this place into ‘Namland, now that he was going to have to be the one in charge, but then Cook coughed so hard he woke himself up, and Chop Top relaxed. Chop Top moved closer, a little cautious. Drayton was pale, about the same color Chop Top himself was, which wasn’t ideal. There was a tinge of red to his lips, though not in a good way. Chop Top hoped he had just had breakfast in bed. “Hey, bro!” Drayton jolted and Chop Top expected a big reaction, a whole ‘Christ! What the hell are you doin’ here, you nitwit! Don’t you know better than to enter another man’s room like that!? I know you was raised better than that, I raised you!’. What he got was:

“Oh, fuck off, Bobby.” In a weak raspy voice.

“You really don't feel good, huh?” Cook barely responded, glaring up at him from his mattress on the floor, but not moving around much. Chop Top moved a little closer. The red on his lips was blood for sure. “You let Bubba do your makeup?”

“No,” he said flatly. “Been coughin’ hard. I'll… I'll be up soon, you boys just don't do nothin’ stupid in the meantime.”

He wasn't up soon. And Chop Top and Bubba probably did a lot he would qualify as stupid in the meantime. Bubba was stressed and getting stresseder as the days went on. Cook got better, then he got worse, then he was okay again. Bubba tried to nursemaid him, and that just made him more mad. Chop Top didn't bother foolin’ around like that. If Cook wanted something, he'd ask for it. The old man never had a problem bitchin’ before. He stayed out of it, doing his own thing, hangin’ out with Nubbins, writing new lyrics for the band he'd make some day. Stuff like that. Until, once again, Bubba dragged him into it.

Cook wouldn't wake up. He wasn't dead, that was for sure, but he'd gone to sleep in the middle of the day before, and now he just wouldn't get up. Bubba showed Chop Top all the ways he tried waking him, talking to him, and tapping on him, and shaking that old man like a ragdoll. But none of it helped. He was breathing, for sure, but he wasn't doing much more than that.

Chop Top didn't know what to do. Not even in the slightest. There were a lot of words for what could be happening, but none of ‘em were good, and all of ‘em would just make Bubba bug out more. If it was any of the things he thought it might be, they had two options. Take him to the hospital, or wait. Bubba couldn’t take Cook to the hospital since he wouldn’t take off his mask, and Chop Top couldn’t because Nubbins couldn’t come in. Chop Top didn't wanna leave Nubbins behind. Nubbins hated that. He had gotten real clingy since Bobby had to go away. Especially after that time he spent in his wooden bed. Chop Top had to dig him up and crawl in there with him. He still wasn't sure why Cook had done that. Momma had a wooden bed. Grandma made sure of that. But when Grandma had gotten all stiff-like, Grandpa refused to let her be put away like that. It was too cold he said- too cold down there in the ground. So Grandma stayed in the attic. Chop Top was surprised Grandpa even let Drayton put Nubbins down like that. Or why Drayton would want to. Cook was always the one bitchin’ about keepin’ Nubbins lookin’ nice- Be careful with him, boy, I don’t wanna have to stitch his head back on, and Now don’t take him out raisin’ hell, you’re just gonna get him tore up. And those worms had not been kind to Nubs, no siree. The poor guy just couldn’t handle being alone anymore. And Chop Top didn’t blame him.

So their only option was to wait it out.

Chop Top was okay with that. Cook either got better or he didn’t. And if he didn’t, if Drayton died. Well… Then he just wouldn’t. He wasn’t going anywhere, whether or not he died. That comforted Chop Top. But it did not comfort Bubba. The moment Chop Top said the die word he started panicking again, blubbering and pacing and whining. Chop Top tried to calm him down, really really hard, but it was not working well. He got Bubba to sit, but he was still fidgeting, still visibly upset. So Chop Top did the only thing he really could. He got the radio, and he got Nubbins, and he brought them to the kitchen to help cheer up Bubba.

“Hey, bro! What’s wrong?” Chop Top asked in his ‘Nubbins’ voice, positioning Nubbins’ head so he could look at him. Bubba looked up at Nubbins, with a pout still on his face. “Well uh, y-you know what I think, Nubs?” Chop Top asked, turning Nubbins’ head. “I think, it’s time for a little music!” He put the radio down, presenting it. “Yeah! Uh- yeah, what- what do you think about that, Bubba?” He turned it on, and turned the volume up, just loud enough that he was confident Bubba couldn’t hear Cook having another coughing fit in his sleep. “Let’s see what Miss Stretch is playin’ for us tonight!” They caught the end of Brain Damage by Pink Floyd. It was a good song- sure- but it didn’t have the energy they needed- it wasn’t the right feeling- it wasn’t right for dancing and jumping and shaking out the worry that naturally came with the whole “older brother’s dying of pneumonia or something” situation. C’mon Miss Stretch, don’t let us down now.

“Can’t go wrong with the classics,” Miss Stretch said. Bubba nodded, and Chop Top grinned. He always responded to Miss Stretch on the radio. Chop Top figured she was Bubba’s fave too. “-But for our last song of the night, we’re playin’ somethin’ hot and new.” Chop Top recognized it in the first few beats. That’s why you’re my fave!

“It’s our song, Bubba, it’s our song!” Chop Top hollered. He set Nubbins down, and pulled Bubba to his feet, bouncing with him. No One Lives Forever, Oingo Boingo. Perfect, perfect, perfect! Bubba started to bounce along too. Bubba wasn’t much of a lyrics man, but Chop Top already knew every word to this song. Chop Top started to sing along, “You worry too much, y-you make yourself sad, you can’t change fate, but d-don’t feel so bad! Enjoy it while you can, heh, it’s just like the weather! So quit complain’ Bubba! No one lives forever!” It was working fantastically. Bubba was bouncing up and down to the beat, trying his best to belt out the lyrics too. The two brothers didn’t exactly dance, but more so hopped around in a circle, holding hands and wiggling back and forth mostly in time with the beat. It was good. It felt good. Chop Top did his best to ignore exactly how poignant the lyrics were. It didn’t matter. It was going to be okay. Dead or alive, Cook would be okay. Chop Top danced harder and faster, trying to shake it all out like a wet dog, singing louder and louder, trying to just feel it. He and Bubba were out of sync for most of the song- Bubba not exactly being a words guy- until the howl. For one brief, glorious moment, the voices of Chop Top, Bubba, and Mr. Boingo himself aligned, and Chop Top felt good. Then the radio cut out. He turned, confused and a little angry and a lot embarrassed at how exactly his singing had sounded without the music- but then-

“What the fuck are you boys doin’? Makin’ all that Goddamn racket- how’s a man supposed to sleep around here? Are you idiots tryin’ ta kill me? Is that what this is? You sound like a pack of coyotes gettin’ flattened by an eighteen wheeler!” Bubba promptly flattened Drayton, squishing him to his chest like he was gonna blow away. Cook was still stuffy, and a bit pale, but he looked a whole lot better. If Nubbins could, he would say somethin’ about the power of music, and then tell Cook he needed more beauty sleep ‘cause he was still ugly, and then Cook would smack him upside the head. Chop Top just smiled, and moved to get the radio out of the way. He looked back at his brothers. Cook was trying to writhe out of Bubba’s arms like a ferret stuck in a Pringles can, and Bubba was babbling and trying to pet his hair like a dolly. Everything turned out okay.

“Thanks, Miss Stretch,” he said softly.

#tcmfanevent

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jiliansky-blog · 1 year

Text

The cat of dreams. Chapter 6

Pairing: Morpheus x FemaleReader

Rating: PG

Words: 2000

The next morning I should decide what to do next. There is still a chance that Corinthian can wait for me somewhere near my work. I would have shown him that Morpheus or simple black cat isn’t here anymore. But I would rather not invite the nightmare murderer to my house. I can take a day off from work, saying that I’m ill. Or even stay home till the end of the week. Or I can go to work today, reassure this nightmare, that I don’t have a cat anymore, if he believes me. And take a vacation for a week or two. And hope, that Morpheus will return during this time. Or maybe I should take work home. I also need to check that Corinthian won’t follow me home or anywhere else. So I had breakfast and went to work. I decided to work today and then take a vacation for a week or two. Fortunately, I didn’t see the nightmare nearby. And my boss noticed my tired statement and concern. “You looked exhausted”, she said with sympathy.

“I didn’t sleep this night”, I sighed. “Family problems”. “Maybe, you should take the day off today then”, she suggested. “Actually I want to take a vacation”, I asked sheepishly. It was a good opportunity. “On a week or two maybe”. “Is everything so bad?” she asked. “Everything is complicated”, I sighed. “You know what, you can take a day off today and a two-week vocation”, she said suddenly. “When you were last time on vacation? A year ago?” “Are you sure?” I asked surprised. “Yes, why not”, she smiled. “In case I feel bored, I can work from home the next week”, I said. “As you wish”, Nora nodded. “You can go home now”. “Is there any chance you drive home now or a little bit later?” I asked. “I will go to the center in an hour”, she said. “Do you want me to drive you home?”

“You can drive me to the center”, I said. “And I can go home from there. Please, if it’s not too much. I just don’t want to go home alone, you know”. “Is everything alright, Olivia?” she looked at me. “Well”, I tried to figure out what to say. “My ex-boyfriend appeared again in my life. I met him twice already not far from here. I don’t want to meet him again”. “Did he do something to you?” she frowned.

“No, he didn’t”, I sighed. “I just don’t want to see him again, and he doesn’t understand it. I’m afraid he will appear again”. “I see”, she nodded. “Okay, you can go with me. I will tell you when I’m ready to leave”. I worked a few more hours till she took me to the center of the city. I feel relief. “Thank you very much”, I smiled. “You are so kind. How can I repay you?” “Just invite me to coffee when you came out of vacation”, she smiled. “And rest so you can be as talented as usual”. “Okay”, I smiled and got out of the car. “See you”.

She drove away. And I head back home in need to sleep. I guessed if I see Morpheus in my dreams. But something tells me that I won’t. It’s been less than a week, but I am used to his presence. And now all that he left for me is his nightmare. Fortunately, I didn’t see Corinthian around the house and could go to sleep after dinner. Perhaps, I was thinking about Morpheus and it explains why I ended up in some fantasy place. I saw a beautiful castle once, now almost ruined. It reminded me of something, but I couldn’t recall it. And I decided to take a closer look.

“Who are you?” suddenly I heard a female voice and saw a woman in a suit with dark skin and pointy ears. “I didn’t see dreamers here for a long time”. “Olivia”, I said. “I don’t know how I get here. Where am I?” “In the Dreaming”, she replied. “It’s the lord’s Morpheus castle. Wait, you are the mortal, who helped him after escape”. “That’s me, yes”, I smiled. “I didn’t know how I appeared here. Probably, I thought too much about it”. “Or you still have a connection with him”, said the woman. “I’m Lucienne, his librarian”.

“Nice to meet you, Lucienne”, I said. “Is Morpheus here?” “No, he is no search of his belongings”, she sighed. “Oh, I see. At least it means that he is alright. Can you please tell him that probably will be in another place in the next two weeks, so Corinthian won’t be able to find me”. “Corinthian is after you?” she looked scared. “Yes, I met him two times after my work”, I said. “He thinks Morpheus is with me. Morpheus said, that I should avoid him at all costs”.

“It would be better, yes”, she nodded. “I will tell him, what you just said. I can’t invite you inside, because…well”. “I understand, the place is not rebuilt after Morpheus's disappearance”, I admitted. “Perhaps, I should leave or wake up then. “Thank you”, Lucienne said suddenly. “For taking care of Lord Morpheus. Not everyone would do the same”. “I was glad to help”, I smiled. “He suffered enough. And he is nice in his own manner. I hope to see him soon”. She looked at me and smiled like she understands something I didn’t know. “Perhaps, we will meet again”, she said. “Yes, see you later, Lucienne”, and I woke up.

I couldn’t understand at first was it a morning or evening? Then I remember that I return home earlier from work. I started to think about where I can go for my vacation. Then I remembered one of my friends invited me to the cabin in the countryside. Perhaps, it would be the perfect solution to rest and avoid nightmares. And maybe there will be quiet enough to work a little. “Hello, Melody”, I called my friend. “How are you?” “Fine, and you?” she asked. “Is something happened?” “I’m fine, I just need a place for vacation”, I said. “Is your offer still valid?” “Of course”, she said. “When can you go?” “I can go tomorrow”, I replied. “Wow, you are fast”, she noticed. “Did something happen?”

“No, just want to clear my head in the new place outside the city”, I said. “You can’t lie, you know”, she admitted. “You have never tried to run away so fast. So are you going to tell me?” “There is…one man who scare the hell out of me”, I replied with a sigh. I didn’t even try to tell her about Morpheus. She won’t believe that part. “I met him twice outside my work. I have a feeling he is following me for some reason”. “Did you call the police?” she asked, concerned. “No, what am I going to say to them?” I asked. “That he seemed suspicions to me because he invited me for a coffee?”

“That he is a stalker”, she said. “No, they wouldn’t believe me”, I said. “Anyway, I’m going to your cabin”. “Alright”, she sighed. “I will call you in the morning and pick you up”. “You shouldn’t do it”, I smiled. “I won’t let you get there alone when some strange guy might follow you”, she said. “Wait for me at ten a.m.” “See you tomorrow then”, I replied and ended the conversation.

It was evening. I didn’t want to go anywhere. No, when this Corinthian might be out there. So I decided to read, have dinner and then go to sleep. I still was tired. And I found myself missing Morpheus. Even though I knew him for a few days. When I fell asleep the next time I didn’t meet him in the dreams. And I didn’t appear in the Dreaming either. I felt disappointed. He could say something that he is alright. I woke up before Melody’s call. I was in the middle of the breakfast. She was going to drive to me in half an hour. So I still have time to finish my breakfast and dress up. “Are you ready?” asked Melody, when she came. “Yes”, I said. “I woke up earlier because I fell asleep earlier yesterday”. “Are you nervous?” she asked. “A little”, I said. “Let’s go”.

I caught myself worrying about that guy. But he was nowhere to be seen and I was relieved. I hope that Morpheus will find me there. “So are you alright?” she asked. “I need more sleep and rest”, I smiled. “But I’m alright. Thank you”. “Do you want me to stay there with you?” she asked. “I don’t know”, I replied. “You can stay for a night or two. I don’t want to steal you from your life entirely”. “I don’t see you often, so I won’t mind staying with you tonight”, she smiled. “Are you sure you’re alright?” “I feel tired”, I sighed. And I wanted to see Morpheus again. This god of dreams doesn’t even know that he doesn’t leave my mind. The cabin was nice. It was small but had two comfortable beds, a modern shower, and a kitchen. You can bring food here or you can go to the café nearby. It was surrounded by forest and lake. So peaceful.

“Wow, it’s so nice here”, I said. “Told you”, smiled Melody. “You can rest here”. “Thank you”, I smiled too. “I don’t know, how I can thank you”. “You don’t”, she smiled. “A bottle of wine is enough”. The day I spent in solitude because my friend should work. She works in a café, that is why she told me about this place. I can sleep a little, but I didn’t appear in the Dreaming again. Then Jodie woke me up with a call. “Where are you now?” she asked. “And how is your cat?” “Long story short, I found his owner and the cat was actually fine, just tired”, I said. “And I’m in the cabin now, not in the town. But please don’t tell anyone”. “Why?” she seemed surprised. “I just don’t want to talk or see anyone”, I said. “Oh, okay”, she said. “Are you alright?” “Yes, I’m just tired”, I said. “See you in two weeks”. In the evening Melody joined me and we drink wine, listen to music, and discus different topics. “You didn’t find a man”, she said. “Why?” “You made it sound so easy”, I smiled, but think about Morpheus. He was mysterious and handsome. And kind in his own manner. I hoped I will see him again. “I know this look”, she said.

“What look?” I asked confused. “You fell in love”, she said. “Who is he?” “Well…”, I smiled. “I can tell you, but you won’t believe me. So, I can say he is mysterious and handsome. And I helped him once”. “Wow”, she said. “Sounds like a novel. Is he a reason behind your escape?” “Partially”, I replied. “There was some other guy who looked for him. And he somehow suspected that I know him”. “Girl, what are you getting yourself into?” she asked. “Are they criminals or what? Because it would explain your fast escape”. “No, at least the man I liked is not a criminal, but he said that another man is dangerous”, I said.” That is why I escaped”. “Oh my god, how did you even can get in these troubles”, she said. “You know, I will stay with you while you’re here”.

“There is no need for that”, I said. “Then call to police”, she insisted. “We talked about this already”, I said. “When I see him again, I will call them”. “Alright”, she sighed. The next day she went to work and returned only in the evening. Meanwhile, I read, write novels, and went to the café. When I fell sleep, I didn’t see Morpheus or the Dreaming and it was a disappointment.

@shadowqueen1318 @mypsychoticlove @justathirstyhoe @ladymoztaza

#sandman x reader #dream x reader #morpheus x reader #sandman fanfiction #The Sandman

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dana-chan-the-control-brain · 7 months

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Saw you were thinking of doing more point and click adventure games and I have a few suggestions!

Primordia : https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0YvWQi_5fsw

Honestly I think it would be right up your alley.

On the more horror side

Excavation of Hob’s barrow: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=x-1C_9RQJb8

Kathy Rain : https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5aW1YcrEc0M

A little more on the fantasy fanciful side

Beyond The Edge of Owlsgard: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FXeHb_dN9qo

Wytchwood : https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ufvmbqHVbLY

Though that one is a little closer to a crafting game.

Enjoy :D

--------

THANK YOU!

Sorry it took me awhile to read this submission. I’ve been adding a lot of Adventure Games to my “to play” list lately. Mainly cause of PushingupRoses and their new Podcast “Save Your Game” so I recommend giving that a listen if you’re up for any game recommendations, Modern or Old.

So I’ll go down this line and look at the trailers to see if I’m interested.

Primordia:

OH GOD! Primordia’s art style reminds me of like Dark Seed. Which is appropriate cus I think Geiger did the artwork on that game. (darkseed not this) but it also reminds me of Nausicaä of the Valley of the Wind with it’s art direction. I might just check it out for the Bug, Goth Steampunk style alone.

Excavation of Hob’s barrow:

I’ve heard of this game! It was actually brought up and Discussed in the “Save your Game” podcast and I looked up the art and thought about giving this one the old college try. I love me a good mystery and gothic horror intrigue. Definitely one to keep in mind.

Kathy Rain:

I actually did play this one! Well, I played it once, and it was the original, not the Directors Cut. I don’t know what changes the Directors Cut made, and since I only played it once, I don’t really remember a lot of the puzzles or how it concluded. But I loved the atmosphere and I just love that the 90s was so long ago, that modern Adventure Games can like use it for a retro setting now. I want to see a lot more games take place in the 90s. Like the 80s had their turn, and I love scifi and the future, but we just need more games set in that weird era of leaking out of the 80s and dissolving to grunge. I think a small town community in the 90s is a good setting for a game in general. I should give Kathy Rain another go, it’s still in my steam library untouched.

Beyond the Edge of Owlsguard:

OH MY GOD!!!!!!!!!!! My little inner furry absolutely LOVES this. Like the juxtaposition of a somewhat realistic Pixel art background, blended in with the super cartoony look of Anthro animals just has me instantly hooked on the artstyle alone. Like it looks like one of the more sillier games in tone of Monkey Island or Sam and Max hit the Road and that is fine by me! The graphic interface is very old school and it seems to be very self aware of the adventure game genre. I don’t doubt things will get dark and serious by how they introduced the main threat but... Like I will probably just pick this up for the art style alone!

Wytchwood:

Ah this looks really interesting. It really reminds me of Cult of the lamb weirdly. With crafting and dungeon elements. I might give it a go, but it doesn’t capture my interest immediately like some others.

Also, I’ll drop a recommendation I’ve heard of:

Perfect Tides

The year is 2000. You’re a teenager. You only have online friends and you’re trying to navigate puberty and the world of sex. Some people might not like that kind of thing, especially if they cringe hard at second hand embarrassment, but from what I’ve heard, this whole thing is like a mix of “Night in the Woods” and “Watamote” more the later then the former. I heard that this game isn’t afraid to make it’s main character utterly unlikeable and it’s a real coming of age story. And like, what it’s like to be alone as a teenager only having online friends to seek companionship with. I honestly can’t wait to try out this one. It looks like an existential time and a half.

#Adventure Games #Point and Click adventure games #Game recommendations #danachan's rants #submissions

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scribe-of-stories · 1 year

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Hi, I'm Scribe

(Art by Kollapsar)

About: As per the title you can call me Scribe; I also go by JL and or Knight (see Avatar) They/Them. I am a ex-professional Psychologist, I pretend to know things about Philosophy, and I have been known to write things that take place in my own silly little world. Also a TTRPG hobbyist that dreams about making my own one day. I mainly write modern fantasy with horror elements from a first person perspective. Things tend to get existential and there is often not a difference between reality and metaphor. Also there is no shortage of queer folk with super powers or deep occult knowledge in my stories. Currently most of my work is in the form of short stories and flash fiction, with a novel/serial in the works here or there.

Intent: What an ominous section title. Honestly I'm here to make friends in the writing community. I want to read other people's works and I want others to read my work. I want to encourage and be encouraged. I want to see the little notification number pop up on my screen and give my brain the good chemicals. Take this as blanket consent to tag me in games, to send me asks, and to send me messages. Tell me about your OCs and I'll gladly talk your ear off about world building. I also intend on getting published one day. It would be lovely to meet others going through the process.

Lexical Earth: Is the setting of most if not all of my writing. It's a modern fantasy setting who's hidden magic side was forcefully revealed during the year 2000, when the First Wave of Inscribed started showing up. Now governments are struggling to retain control, Thought Entities are going public with their machinations and hunger, and there is no small population of super heroes and villains trying to impose their views on reality. The magic system of this setting is generally soft with harder rules the closer one is to the material world. The Realm of Spirit is swirling occult bullshit, but it takes someone with actual knowledge to pull it down into reality. Experiment with Jungian masks, personas, and shadows; see the connective tissue of stories stretch across cultures; and walk those paths. Alternatively write words on your Soul and bend reality to the whims of your Inscription.

Directory: Bellow is a collection of the works I have posted and a short description of which each is about. Let me know if you would wish to be added to a general Lexical Earth tag list or if there is a specific series/protagonist you'd want to be tagged for.

(Under construction, there are a few works buried deep in my blog that I need to go excavate)

Samuel Smith, the Smith of Masks: Private investigator, grumpy and sarcastic, and part of the pre-inscribed world of Lexical. He's paid to solve issues between the Wyrd and the human; and often gets too emotionally invested. 1 – PI just wants to read books between jobs but Wyrd stuff is happening. Technically the first Lexical short I ever wrote. 2 – Sequel to the previous short. PI has a bad time working on this case, ends up having to sell part of his soul. 3 – Stand alone story. PI forgets what he's doing several times before solving a serial killer problem. Marian Wheeler would be proud.

Ken “Host of Fangs”, Lord of Hearts: Telepathic Inscribed that makes a hivemind with animals as his main power. He has substantial family and old life trauma and a masc., non-binary, partner who's soul is shaped like a jellyfish. 1 – Date gets interrupted by old woman/man Humanity handing out super powers. 2 – Ken gets a letter from his Ex and has big feelings about it.

Wander/er, Wanderer of Spirit: First Wave Inscribed that noped out of reality and went deep into the Realm of Spirit to learn about the Wyrd side of things. Generally an important person who shows up around big events, but more an advisor than a hero. 1 – Wanderer and a Thought Entity friend travel a bit too far away from earth. Careful not to wake Slumbering Kings.

Lexical Lore: For the World building and TTRPG side of Lexical. 1 – Inscribed, how do they work? How do you become one? Would they make a good RPG player character? All answered here. Go and make your own Inscribed and @ me with the results.

Lexical One-Offs: for stories that don't have a named protagonist or just aren't part of a series. Bedroom – Someone wakes up and gets ready for work. The Recursive Tree – The life cycle of one or more Thought Entities as seen from the perspective of a Soldier.

#writeblr #lexical earth #Scribe of Stories #Knight of Hearts #writeblr intro #writers on tumblr #It is done #It is rewriten #Perhaps now I can sleep #Dream of the waking world oh spirit of mine #Show me a reality I want to live in #and sleep oh waking world so that I might see it

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eclipsefangirl · 2 months

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PJ Masks Suicidetastrophe Part 3

⚠️suicide, death and blood warning, if you’re going through a tough time please get help, suicide is not the answer….please don’t read if you’re triggered by anything this story contains and NO hate comments they will be banned, thank you for your support 🩷❤️⚠️

Nights will never be the same ever again ever since Marvin’s, Daisy’s and Night Ninja’s deaths, the memory of the Halloween where Marvin took his own life was more haunting than anything, seeing him standing on the edge with tears in his eyes and watching him jump off and fall to the ground like a weight was so heartbreaking and dreadful, even the sound of the thud gave everyone the chills

As Connor and Greg were walking to school they were wondering where Amaya was, she usually walks to school with them, then Meg came running over with her heart in her throat and she had a worried look spread all over her face, she caught her breath before speaking

Meg- Guys! It’s Amaya! She’s on the school roof! We don’t know how she got up there! Jenny found her and she went to tell Teacher, he ran outside trying to tell Amaya that he’ll call for help bu-

A loud thud interrupted Meg’s sentence, as she, Greg and Connor ran over worriedly, they gasped in horror, Amaya had taken her own life, the people who witnessed what happened some nearly fainted in shock, some fainted and everyone cried in pain…..they wished Amaya opened up about her suicidal thoughts sooner, but it was too late….Amaya aka Owlette has gone, a fallen hero that will never be forgotten…her world went dark…..

Connor-………..NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

Greg- AMAYA! WHHHYYYYYYYYY!

Meg-………..*sobs heavy*

Hearts were broken and lives have changed, everyone was devastated especially the PJ Masks, suddenly suicide rates skyrocketed up faster than a firework, it was worse than the year 2010 where more than 2000 people took their own lives, 15 other children had taken their own lives and 13 adults, each day the numbers got bigger and bigger by the minute, suicide was taking toll of the city and people’s lives, Amaya’s parents were informed about their daughter’s death and they were devastated, they made a memorial in their garden to remember her

A month later a funeral was held for the suicide victims including Amaya and back in school a suicide prevention program was in place, the school hoped it would help people get help they needed, they really don’t want anymore deaths

Night came and soon everyone knew about what happened on Halloween and the night after, the power heroes were one hero down, Owlette will never be forgotten, everyone was wondering what drove her to go on the school roof, jump off and kill herself, was she going through a difficult time? Was she being bullied?

Back at Power Q Catboy came up towards PJ Robot with his head hanged in shame

Catboy- PJ Robot! Review the footage so we can find out what happened

PJ Robot reviewed the footage before Owlette’s suicide and it showed Owlette flying to the school roof, she had tears in her eyes and she demorphed from her PJ Masks form to her daytime form, now she’s Amaya, she gets closer to the edge, her heart in her mouth, she whispers to herself “im no good…i should’ve done more to help the ninjas….. but i…..i didn’t……im done….pj masks….i love you…..and……..*closes her eyes* goodbye *falls off roof and hits ground, no one hears this because everyone is asleep*”

With their eyes widened in horror and grief, Catboy and PJ Robot looked at each other, overcome with grief, sadness and pain, the others came in and Catboy turned to look at them, he told them what happened to Owlette, they were so heartbroken they cried uncontrollably, their hearts in their throats

PJ Robot- *in his robot voice* (Oh no…..poor Owlette…..)

Catboy-……….

Newton Star- By…my stars….

An Yu- This…..is a tragic and painful moment right now….suicide has risen and…. I fear that more people would be driven into its path, and go down the same route as the others….they will never be forgotten….suicide is such a grave thing to go through…

No one spoke after that, then Catboy’s chest was starting to heat up, he was having suicidal thoughts, without any warning he ran out of Power Q before anyone could stop him, he went to Earth and found a high building with a large roof, he got onto it, he demorphed and with his heart in this throat and tears in his eyes he got to the edge, he said “Owlette…..im sorry….i can’t live like this anymore……i have to join you…..it would be painful to live without you……im sorry PJ Masks…….see you on the other side…..” And then he jumped off the roof and hit the ground, he was now at peace….

The Power Heroes were so overcome with grief no one spoke, the suicide was taking control of their lives like a computer virus that could never be fixed, it was spreading through their bodies, they felt hopeless

Day came and Greg was walking to school, he cried all through the night and couldn’t explain why to anyone never mind his parents because they can never know he’s a PJ Mask. Amaya and Connor, his best friends have now gone…he is now the only one left out of the three PJ Masks from the start, remembered all the good times he had with them, defeating villains, getting new powers/gadgets/vehicles etc

At the school there was a sign saying “School closed due to a suicide investigation” Greg sighs and walks off to the park, as he looks around he saw no one was around, not even a vehicle or animal was about, he then saw a Ninjalino, much to Greg’s surprise because the Ninjalinos usually come out in the nighttime not the day time, he saw the Ninjalino was crying, Greg walked up to the Ninjalino who was sat on a bench, he sat down next to him and sighed with sadness

Greg- hi ninjalino….

Cole- *Ninjalinoese* (call me Cole….thats my name…..this is so bad….suicide is really rising fast like a tsunami, what are we going to do?)

Greg- i don’t know Cole…..my friends…….gone…….and im sorry about the loss of Night Ninja, Marvin and Daisy……..suicide is so grave…..and by the way…..call me Greg

Cole- *Ninjalinoese* (ok Greg…….and yes suicide is grave….we Ninjalinos will never be the same again…….Brad and Pip are back at the temple creating a memorial mural……i don’t know what the others are doing)

Greg- well…..i really don’t know wha- *looks up in horror to see Bastet and Dave on a roof, ready to jump* Oh no!!! Cole look!

Cole- *Ninjalinoese* (*looks up* Bastet! Dave! Oh no! Guys! Please don’t do……this!)

Before Cole and Greg could do anything Bastet and Dave jumped off the roof, taking their own lives, the duo couldn’t believe what they saw, they wished they could’ve done more…….but it was too late…….Bastet and Dave……have gone…..

Greg- NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! BASTET! DAVE!

Cole-…….

After that nobody spoke, their stomachs ached and they looked pale in the face, Greg nearly fainted and Cole nearly had a heart attack, suicide was taking over each person one by one, the duo feared that everyone will take their own lives, and soon they will be no one left in the city….

A few days a newspaper came through doors, the headline read “MAY THEY NEVER BE FORGOTTEN” along with a list of other victims….including Cameron, Timmy and Amaya friends Jenny, Meg and Marie, and even Teacher was on the list! As Greg walked along he then saw someone on a roof! It was Ivan! His eyes were red and puffy, he got out of his wheelchair that was on the edge, jumps off and takes his own life….suicide has gone too far…..people need help and need it now…..Greg crashed to the ground and cried, then he got up, went to the same roof as Ivan, jumped off and took his own life

Night came and memorials were everywhere to remember those who died, mini cards with the deceased victims with heart touching messages underneath them were beside lit candles that had pictures of the victims on them, as the candle flames flickered everyone bowed their heads in grief from their doors, porch, garden and yard

At Power Q there was a memorial poster to remember Catboy, Owlette, Ice Cub, Gekko and Bastet who took their own lives, An Yu placed a picture of when she first met the PJs, Lilyfay drew a special picture in the sky of the fallen power heroes and Newton placed 5 small colored asteroids that had the symbol for each of the 5 heroes, special none drooping flowers decorated the poster all around it, a sentence read “PJ Masks Shout We Love You! Because Every Day, We Will Remember You!” The remaining heroes sobbed and they fell to their knees

At the ancient temple the Ninjalinos created some statues of Night Ninja, Marvin, Daisy and Dave, they stood behind a memorial decorated with candles, ninja scrolls that had heart touching notes and flowers, the Ninjalinos knelt down in grief and they cried….nobody’s life will ever be the same again

To be continued August 1st

#pj masks #night ninja #pj masks ninjalinos #luna girl #owlette #catboy #gekko #newton star #help #suicideprevention #get help #we love you

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anniesocsandgeneralstore · 2 years

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[ REVERENT ] one or both muses have been pining for a while, sender body worships receiver by kissing all over their body and giving them oral.

def topgun ronnie and jake. the series where ronnie is a bartender and jake is at topgun for the 2nd time (I've forgotten the name)

yes anon....yes.....maybe an alternative ending to the beach scene??

prompt list || open

prompt: [ REVERENT ]

word count: 1244

warnings: EXPLICIT SEXUAL CONTENT 18+ONLY MINORS DNI (oral f receiving, sex on the beach, heavy dirty talk that is also full of so much yearning, allusions to m and f masturbation) language

“Jake…” she whispered again.

A soft groan slipped past his lips before he was kissing her again. He pressed her further into the sand with his weight, one hand clutching her waist tight. Her own hands brushed into his wet hair, tugging him down even closer. It was slow and filled with years of longing that neither of them could express with words.

He pulled away suddenly to kiss at her throat. “Fuck, I missed you.”

Ronnie tasted like salt water and tanning lotion. It reminded him of all those years ago when he would sneak into her apartment — when she would be fresh from the beach and hadn’t showered yet and he didn’t care. It was a taste he had thought back on so many times. In the darkness of his apartment on base. Struggling to keep quiet in his bunk in the middle of the ocean.

“Yeah?” she questioned, nails scratching at his bare shoulders when he found that familiar place just beneath her jaw that always made her squirm. “Did you ever think about me?”

Jake grinned as he dragged his teeth along her collarbone — making her arch up against him.

“Think about you how?” he asked back, pressing delicate kisses into the tops of her breasts exposed by her bikini top.

He feared taking things too far. Breaking whatever bubble they had found on this beach. He never wanted it to end. Never wanted to leave this feeling of being completely seen by her and maybe even held by her.

“In a sexy way,” Ronnie replied with a slight shimmy of her shoulders.

Jake snorted out a laugh, forehead dropped against her sternum. When he looked back up into her face, illuminated only slightly by the lamp by the cooler and the glowsticks on their wrists, she was grinning down at him. A goofy thing that he remembered all too fondly.

“God, I forgot how terrible you are at dirty talk,” he chuckled as he kissed at her salt-slicked skin.

Ronnie’s mouth dropped open in offense. “I am very good at dirty talk!”

“No, you’re not.”

“What? Are you an expert? Please, demonstrate for me — oh, wise master.”

He mouthed at the exposed skin of her stomach. Tongue licking up the salt water that clung to her as he moved further down her body. Her fingers tangled into his hair. The ocean lapped at their legs, foam and the last breaths of dying waves.

“I thought about you all the time,” he muttered against her, finding some confidence now that he didn’t have to look into her face.

See her reaction. But he could feel it — hear it. She gasped quietly at his words and it made him smirk.

“Anytime I saw the ocean waves. Heard some terrible 2000s pop. Anytime I had someone else in my bed.” She gasped again, this time accompanied by a roll of her hips as he pulled her shorts down just enough to suck a mark into her hip bone. “It was like you were there with me every time. And every night when I was alone with my hand around my cock.”

“Jake,” she moaned openly, pushing at his head to get him where she craved him most.

He pressed a kiss just beneath her navel. “Told you — “

He didn’t get to finish. “What did you imagine?”

That question made his dick twitch and she knew it in the way she laughed.

“Everything. The feel of you. That stupid laugh you do when you think you’re hilarious.”

“Because I am hilarious,” she muttered and he snorted again.

“The taste of you. God — I wanna taste you.”

Jake thumbed at the button of her denim shorts, eyes tilting up to gauge her reaction. She was pushed up on her elbows to look at him better, lip caught between her teeth. She looked beautiful and he wanted her. He wanted her so badly. To give her all the pleasure he had longed to give her for four entire years. To make up for all the time lost and how much of an ass he was.

“O-On the surfboard,” she finally stuttered out, hand already reaching for it. “I don’t want sand in my gooch.”

A laugh bubbled up in Jake’s chest as she slipped out from underneath him and laid down on the surfboard. He never laughed as much during sex as when he was with Ronnie. He missed it. God, he missed it so much it hurt.

Her shorts were a pain in the ass to get off. Completely soaked from the ocean and sticking to her legs the entire way down. But the bikini bottoms she wore underneath were tied at her hips, and Jake took great pleasure in undoing the knots with his teeth.

“God, this is like a fucking wet dream,” Ronnie mumbled as he kissed up her thighs.

“Yeah?” he questioned softly.

“Yeah. Beach, nighttime, no one around…On my friggin’ surfboard. God, fantasy come true. For real.”

Jake looked up at her with a smile. “Was I ever in this fantasy of yours?”

“Always.”

He groaned as he dove into her cunt, licking a slow, thick strip up the expanse of her. She tasted just like he remembered. So fucking sweet. Ronnie mewled loudly, the sound echoing off the ocean, as her nails scratched against his scalp. Holding him right where she wanted him.

She began to babble, nearly incoherently, as she practically road his face. “I — I thought about you all the fucking time. Felt you everywhere. In the summer heat. In the sound of jet engines. In 70’s country. Every time I was left unsatisfied…oh, God…You were there.”

Jake moaned, lips wrapped around her clit as he sucked gently at the bundle of nerves.

“No one was as good as you. No one.” She cried loudly as he slipped his tongue into her entrance, then teased at that special spot just beneath her clit that only he had ever been able to find. “God…Feels so good, sweet boy. Please.”

Jake groaned around her again and it made her back arch as her hips worked against his tongue. Sweet boy. He remembered a time when he thought the pet name was degrading. But over time, he loved it. Though he would never admit that to her. Never admit that it stirred something primal inside him. Never admit that he would only ever let her call him that. He wasn’t supposed to be sweet. He was a Naval fighter pilot, the best of the best, he was Hangman. But, God, he wanted to be sweet to her. He wanted to hear her tell him that it was okay to be soft, okay to be sweet, okay to be vulnerable.

Her juices coated his tongue as she came with a soft cry. He licked up every drop until she was pulling at his ears to get him to stop. He chuckled as he kissed back up body, felt the thrum of her heart beneath her ribs. Her nails scratched down his back and it made him shudder.

“Your turn,” she panted out, but he stopped her hand from going between their bodies.

“There’s no need.”

She stared into his face for a second. Then she grinned. “D’you cream your pants from eating me out?”

“Possibly,” he replied.

“Fuck,” Ronnie groaned before she surged up into him, capturing his lips in a searing kiss.

The tide and the moon as their witness.

#annie answers #anon ask #smut prompts #writing prompt #oc: ronnie bradshaw #fic: come over here and overwhelm me #fd: top gun #jake hangman seresin #jake seresin #hangman #jake hangman seresin x oc #jake seresin x oc #hangman x oc #jake hangman seresin imagine #jake seresin imagine #hangman imagine

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winchestercult · 1 month

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Hell's Comin' Chapter Five

AO3 link for anyone who wants to read it there

Tiktok link

Art: Our lovely Rocks himself

Word Count: 5426

Fandom: Supernatural

I'll figure out how to actually write up posts like this the more I do it now onto the fic! Enjoy!

Dawn was fast approaching. I hadn’t pulled an all nighter like this in quite some time now. Not since the first few months in rehab… I couldn’t sleep, I was sick and in pain. However, an important thing in recovery is a routine. When I first got to the rehab center, it did take a while for me to settle into a routine. Especially the routine of a normal person and not a Hunter. I have to admit the sleep schedule was pretty great, but any sleep schedule is better than a Hunter’s 3 to 5 hour naps…

That’s beside the point! The point is rehab helped me with a schedule, a set routine of 7am mornings, activities given for the day, and lights out at 9pm. Well rounded days really, though I didn’t go to sleep at 9. Usually I’d read until midnight or just after, other nights I let my Winchester bloodline write in my journal. After writing down all the dark scary thoughts, it’s really just the hunts I’ve been on but to a normal person those are scary but those stopped being scary before I even hit double digits, then I’d go to sleep. The next day I’d get up and do it all over again, wash, rinse, repeat.

I had gotten used to it, but laying on these leather seats, looking up and watching the passing clouds, pink from the sun’s position in the sky, I’m getting that nostalgic feeling. I catch a ray of sunlight to the eyes and winch. Joy. A headache is coming on and I can feel it. But it’s really nothing new, none of this is. It’s a normal feeling. Not a new normal, or a normal for any other person. This is an old normal. A familiar one. I’m slipping back into how it was before, and I know…this is a problem.

“Hey Sammy?” I move to sit up in the seat, the sun’s rays flashing my vision. I lift my hand trying to shield my eyes from it. Sammy turns his head my way, humming in question at me, also squinting from the light.

“What have you been up to? Besides the whole college thing?” I ask him. I realized I haven’t thought too much about what my brothers would be up to while I was away. Sure I know Dean has been hunting still and Sam has to have been in classes and everything but the details I didn’t really think about. I tried not to have reminders that my brothers have been carrying on without me…

Before I get too lost in my thoughts Sam opens his mouth to speak. “I uh-”

“Sammy’s got himself a girlfriend!” Dean cuts in, grinning like he’s spreading some teenage ‘hot gossip’ while he reaches over and slaps his hand on Sam’s chest. Sam grunts out a gruff “Dean” and rubs at the place Dean’s hand hit him.

Instantly I’m intrigued, leaning forward to get closer. “Ooo? Who is she? What’s her name? Where’d you meet? How’d you meet? Is she cute? Oh! Is she blonde? You’ve always been into blonde-”

“And when was your last girlfriend?” Sam cuts my rapid fire questions short, accompanied by a “Ha!” from the driver’s seat. My eyebrows furrow, taking a moment to actually think about it.

“2000…2001? I think I was 15? Maybe?” I reply after a second to count back the years.

“Jesus, dude you need to get laid!” Dean exclaims, turning his head to make quick eye contact before looking back to the road.

“Aye! You said girlfriend, man.” I defend. Dean lifts a shoulder and tilts his head in one of those ‘fair enough’ motions. I turn back to Sam then. “Anyway, what’s her name?”

“Jessica” Sam responds, a hint of a smile on his face from where can see. “Definitely a blonde” I say, watching him shake his head and chuckle. “Yes, she’s blonde.” he sighs.

“I’m happy for you man,” I clap him on the shoulder and continue. “Really, I know I’m giving you shit, but I’m happy you’re doing so well.” He turns his head to look at me again, the smile he has growing.

“What about you?” He asks as I lean back in the seat.

“What?” I ask, confused.

“What have you been up to? Dean said he dropped you at Bobby’s about a year ago.” The air in the car grew thick as Sam spoke. My eyes snap to Dean’s in the rearview mirror. Just as quickly though, Dean’s eyes move back to the road. Realization hits me. He told him. My thoughts reeling, I stumble out my question. “How…much..” I pause gathering my thoughts better. “How much did he…tell you?” The end of my question dying out as I shift in my seat, my eyes falling to my folded hands in my lap.

“Mase-” Sam starts, I don’t even have to look up to know he’s got that pitying look in his eyes.

“Ba ba bah!” I interrupt. “How much did he tell you?” I ask again, dreading his answer.

“He knows, Mase.” Dean speaks up from the driver’s seat, avoiding eye contact when I glance up at the mirror. I huff and run my hand through my hair.

“Okay…okay that’s fine.” my mind is blank as I try to think of a way to change the subject. “Um I don’t want to talk about that-” I don’t finish that sentence before Sam cuts me off.

“You don’t have to, but what have you been doing? Since then, I mean.” and truthfully I’m grateful for his attempt. It takes a second for me to respond while I think of something not related to the program.

“Well, I uh, I have a councilor I talk to…” I cringe, and keep staring at my hands, picking at my nails while I think. Say something, anything. I don’t want to talk about the program

“I read a lot.” I offer up. Sam chuckles at that then clears his throat. “Let me put on my shocked face.”

I roll my eyes at that but a small smile tugs at the corner of my mouth. “They have a workshop… I built a bike.” I say, hoping he gets caught on the bike and not the program’s workshop.

“You built a bike?!” Sam’s interest spiking. Relief washes through me knowing the mention of the bike worked. Honestly I’m excited to talk about the bike.

“Yeah! 40’s style. The ones they used in World War Two!” God I love that bike. I could talk about it forever if they let me. I pause, debating if I want to share this next part. It’s quiet for a moment and I make my decision.

“I’ve uh, I’ve been there about a year.” I take a breath, hoping they don’t math out the time I’ve been there from the time I was supposed to be at Bobby’s. “They started talking to me about getting a job…” I look back down at my hand again. That same feeling of shame coming right back up. I hear shuffling from the passenger seat, but don’t look up.

“That’s good Mase,” Sam says. I know he’s looking at me but I can’t bring myself to look up. “...really good. I’m proud of you.” he says, tone much softer now.

It’s silent. Dead fucking silent. I’ve been waiting for someone to say that to me for decades. I thought hearing it might make me feel better, make the shame feel less heavy. But this feels uncomfortable, gross, like I don’t really deserve it. How can I believe my brother when he says that when I know he really can’t mean it? No he really can’t mean it. I haven’t earned that for doing normal shit. I squeeze my fists up tight and release them, only to do it again. I don’t deserve it…and again…I really don’t deserve it…and again. Open…closed…open…closed.

“God. I’m sorry.” I can’t stay in this car. It’s too uncomfortable. “Can we stop somewhere please?” I need to get out now.

“Uh yeah..There’s a motel up there.” Dean says and I know he’s nodding his head in the direction up the road.

“Two beds, and uhhh” Dean turns my way for a second, “a couch.” he finishes as faces the guy behind the counter again. I hear the soft clack of a card hitting the counter, a fake credit card no doubt. I know he just turned to make sure I was still there. It feels like he thinks I’m going to bolt. I could feel his eyes, both their eyes, on me when we were getting out of the impala. It doesn’t matter though. I wasn’t going to run, I just needed to stop and get out of that stifling car.The guy behind the counter makes a sound, bringing my focus back to here and not the conversations I have running back through my head.

“You guys having a reunion or something?” The guy asks, and I watch him look at card and then back up at Dean. What’s he mean by that? But before I can ask, Dean beats me to it. “Beg your pardon?”

Sam and I glance at each other, as I uncross my arms and step a little closer, curiosity and confusion making their way through me.

“Guy came and needed a room.” The guy says, motioning in the direction I assume has to be the room he’s talking about. “He booked for the whole month.” As he says that Dean turns my way, his eyes catch mine then flash to Sam’s. This guy really did, didn’t he. Sam and I glance at each other as Dean looks back to the guy behind the counter. No freaking way. “Oh well thank you for your time sir.” and we leave just like that, Dean leading us right back out to the impala. I’m still confused as I follow Sam and Dean out wondering how He could have known we’d have stopped here. What are the chances?

Dean pulls the passenger door open then, shuffling things around, looking for something. Probably to get into the room we could have asked to get into.

“You know, we could have just asked him for the key, I mean, he already thinks you’re his son. But nooooo that’s way too easy right?!” I huff out, exasperated and rolling my eyes. I realize that was probably harsh when Dean’s head pops out of car at the same time Sam stares at me.

“Sorry that was supposed to be an inside thought not an outside one” I flush, embarrassment creeping up the back of my neck as I turn to move around the back of the car. I hear Dean shuffling things around again so I know he’s back to searching for whatever he’s looking for, a quiet ‘yeah, figured’ following. God, I need a cigarette, but I don’t think I have a light. I walk back up to the passenger side, bending down a bit and leaning over him slightly.

“You got a lighter in there somewhere?” I ask him, scanning the stuff he’s rifling through just in case I see one. He pauses for a moment. “...no” He finally says, returning back to his digging. I sigh, knowing he’s definitely lying.

“Are you saying that because I want to smoke?” I ask him, irritation sparking at his attempt to curb my nicotine habits. “Yes.” He responds and it sends me into a mild uproar.

“YOU DO HAV-!” My rant is cut short when the door hits my side, causing me to yelp and grab my side.

“Get out of here!” Dean grumbles out as he pushes me out of the way so he can stand up and fully shut the door. This time I’m not in the way to get more car door bruising. He then tosses something over to Sam, and I catch a glimpse when he catches it and holds it out to see himself. A lockpick kit, classy.

It doesn’t take Sam long to get to work on picking the lock. I stand nearby, my back to him as I scan the parking lot. Thankfully nobody is around to witness our breaking and entering. My eyes snap to the movement in the main office building. I uncross my arms and squint, taking a step in that direction trying to figure out if I actually saw movement there or if the sun caught the window glass just right. As I go to take another step closer I’m yanked backwards into the motel room Sam got open.

I grumble, readjust my jacket, and take a scan of the room. The state of it’s unsurprising really. I head over to a lamp in the corner and quickly flick it on, illuminating the chaos on the walls. Papers everywhere, red strings attaching missing person’s posters to other bits of information likely connected to the case. Dad’s sure been busy. So busy, in fact, he couldn’t even clean up. There’s trash thrown around, food left out, the bed unmade. Looks like he left in a hurry…if it weren’t for the fact that there weren’t any clothes or weapons or really anything of his. He left this mess for us to find, not to find him. Awesome. Dad left us a case. All of us. Did he know Dean would come to get Sam and me?

As I think through the possibilities of Dad planning on us being together, something on the wall catches my eye. A poster. Specifically the woman with long dark hair, dark eyes, and the same article I found in the library. The words above it read Woman in White. My hand comes up to pinch at the bridge of my nose as a sharp tick of pain zips through my head. Then I hear it. I hear Her.

‘I can never go home.’

It’s so quiet, I’m almost convinced I didn’t hear anything. I glance at my brothers, taking note of Sam squatting down and running his fingers through what looks like a salt circle. They didn’t hear anything I’m sure, as I turned back to the poster. I know it’s Her. But my question is, “why can’t you go home?”

“What was that?” Dean asks, bringing my attention back to them. I hadn’t realized I’d asked that question out loud.

“Nothing,” I respond, turning again to my brothers. “Just thinking out loud and if this was a woman in white, surely he would have burned the bones already, right?” I stop between them. These two fucking giants why do they have to be so damn tall?

“Looks like he left in a hurry.” Sam says, motioning to the trash. He turns back to us, eyes meeting both Dean and mine in turn. “We need to go talk to the husband,” Sam starts heading to the door, Dean close behind. “Find out where she’s buried-”

“Hold on.” I interrupt, both my brothers turning to look at me. Sam’s looking at me confused and Dean is looking around my feet like I found something.

“First and foremost. For the love of god, Dean, go take a shower. You smell like dried up death.” Sam burst into laughter, looking at Dean. Dean just sighs and rolls his eyes, making his way in the direction of the bathroom. “Yeah yeah.” he grumbles out, swiping his hand backward at me as he walks away.

Finally a moment of peace. I think as I hear the shower sputter on. I make my way to the other side of the room and let myself just fall. My body crashes down onto the messy bed, the mattress too firm to be comfortable, but the pillow under my head definitely eases the ache in my skull.

“Get me up when he’s out, would ya?” I ask Sam as I push my hands under the pillow under my head and let my eyes close.

“Yeah man” I hear Sam off to the side, probably looking through more of the clippings on the wall. I let myself relax and enjoy the quiet in the room, the water running from Dean’s shower, and the quiet shuffle when Sam moves to examine more of the wall.

“Tell me more about Jessica.” There was a long silence before I heard Sam stepping closer, the bed dipping where he sits down. I crack one eye open, glancing down at him. He’s staring down at his hands in his lap. I can tell he’s getting lost in memories of her.

“Well…” He starts. “After I finished highschool, we met our senior-”

“Cute~” I interrupt him, grinning when I hear him scoff. “Anyway,” He continues, smacking at my boot. “She’s a nursing student, getting ready to graduate actually.” He’s got a soft smile on his face as he continues, “She’s too sweet. Kindest person I’ve ever met…I love her.” He says the last bit quietly.

“Hey, Sammy?” I ask him, careful to not disturb the fragile feeling in the air. He hums in response, looking my way as I move to sit up.

“Why…why did you say yes to this?” I don’t even know if he heard me ask. I continue, I mean you have a beautiful girlfriend, a highschool diploma, and are in college to be a lawyer. You’re gonna have a nice life, so…why say yes to coming back to well…” I trail off gesturing to the room around us. He looks around the room, taking his time before he stops at the bathroom door.

“I could ask you the same thing.” He says after a moment, turning to me. The rush of Dean’s shower the only sound in the room. In the quiet, I sit to really think about it. Why did I say yes?

“...It’s what you do for family.” I know it’s not what I really think, hell they aren’t even my words. They’re Dad’s and we both know it. He lets out a chuckle as he shakes his head.

“Thought you’d say that..” He says, pushing himself up off the bed. My attention pulls toward the bathroom door when I realized the shower stopped running. A moment later Dean steps out, a towel draped around his shoulders, one end in his hand to dry his hair. At least he’s clean and fully clothed, there were plenty of times when we were younger that he’d just walk out naked, scarring us for life.

“Dean” Sam starts the same time I do. “Sam and I were-” I stop, Sam and I catching each other before I nod to him to go ahead. Sam turns back to Dean.

“Dean, I wanted to say I’m sorry. About the stuff I said about mom...that wasn’t cool” Sam says, rubbing his hand on the back of his neck. A thing we all seem to do when we’re nervous.

“Aye, Nuh uh! No chick flick moments.” Dean shakes his head, waving his hand dismissively. “Go talk to the husband, I’m gonna grab some grub, Mase,” He points past Sam at me, “You’re with me.” I barely registered Dean’s orders, stuck on what Sam was saying.

“What?” I’m up on my feet, looking between my brothers. “What did he say about mama?”

“Nothing” Dean dismisses me and heads toward the door. “Come on.” His keys jingling in his hand. He pauses at the door, turning to Sam while I stop beside him. It looks like they are having a conversation between themselves. I’m not going to pry.

“This isn’t over, you know.” Sam chuckles and shakes his head. I follow as Dean heads out the door.

As we make our way toward the impala, Dean bumps his elbow against my arm. “I don’t know about you, but I’m feeling burgers.”

I huff out a laugh and shake my head. “That’s all you…buddy…” I trail off, something in the corner of my eye catching my attention. Someone’s approaching us. Shit. A uniform. I tug on Dean’s jacket sleeve, his head turning slightly. We keep walking like nothing’s happening, but I don’t miss Dean pulling his phone out of his pocket, no doubt warning Sam.

“Dude.. five-o, go.. They kinda spotted us.” I don’t hear Sam’s responses but I really don’t need to, the uniform is getting closer. “Go find Dad.” Dean flips the phone shut just as the men following get to us.

“Gentlemen! How can we help you?” Dean turns his charm right up.

“Where’s your partner?” They question. I glance up at Dean but he doesn’t return my gaze.

“Partner? This is the only partner I got.” He motions toward me. We are so fucked right now.

“So Fake Partner, fake US Marshals, fake credit cards, is there anything about you that’s real?” One of the men lists off and I already know before I see it Dean’s got a shit eating grin on his face. Don’t say anything stupid, Dean. Don’t say anything stupid. Don’t say anything-

“My boobs~”

I hear the slam before I see it. Dean’s pressed against the hood of the car. My hands are already on the top of my head before I even realize it. While I’m watching Dean get man handled on the truck of the impala. I feel another officer grab my wrists and pull them down to the center of my back. I get pushed down onto the trunk beside Dean. I hold still, making no sudden movements nor any fighting back. It would only make it worse.

I squeeze my eyes shut. The cold metal of the cuffs against my wrists stealing my focus. The clinking sound with every movement, my hands getting slick with sweat. I’m suffocating, getting lost in my own head. I’m back in that office, bent over the dark oak desk. I can barely hear my rights being read to me while I’m flitting back and forth between the present and the past. Dean. Sam. Help me. Please. I can’t do this alone. But this desk is too cold, too metallic. Dean’s yelling I can hear him in the distance. His struggles shaking the car beneath me.

That’s right. Dean. He’s here. Pressed to the back of the impala with me. We are in Jericho. I’m not 13 years old. I’m with my brothers. I’m not stuck in there. I’m hunting a woman in white, not being hunted. And Dean. Dean is right there, He’s just a few steps away. I can feel the impala’s cold metal against my cheek.

I force my eyes open, searching for Dean. He’s there, just beside me. This isn’t that dim little office, there is no torn carpet, no smudged devils trap. And no Father Malakai…

My panic subsides with every breath I take, every note of the present I make. There’s pavement under my feet. My face is pressed against the midnight black of the impala. Dean is being pulled away, no nonono Dean is being pulled away! My breathing picks up again just as I’m being pulled up. He’s just being pushed into a squad car. That’s all. He’s okay. And so am I.

I breathe for a moment, resting my head forward on the plexiglass in front of us. “Dammit Dean!” I grumble, not bothering to move from my spot. The crash from my panic induced flashbacks hitting me.

“We’ll be fine, quit your grumbling.” He responds, and from the direction of his voice he’s looking out the window, probably taking note of the cops around us. His response sends a spike of irritation through me and I snap up and spin to face him.

“Getting arrested wasn’t part of the plan!” I snap.

Dean leans back against the seat, his head lolled to the side to stare out the window before he responds, “well it is now. Just keep your mouth shut. Sammy will get us out of this.” He says it so calmly and matter of fact. It annoys me.

“Screw you…” I mumble out, turning toward my own window.

~~~

“Mason is it?” a voice sounds in the holding room I was brought to. I look up toward the doorway to one of the men from the bridge. I choose to stay silent when he meets my glare. At that, he nods and takes a seat in the chair across from me.

“I thought that might be your name, least from the notebook we found-” I can’t keep the shock from my face as I ask him “What notebook?” He’s talking about Dad’s journal. But how? He doesn’t go anywhere without that thing. There’s no way he left it in this ass backwards town.

“Listen kid,” He starts again, leaning forward and resting his elbows on the table. “Your case doesn’t look good.” I lean back in my own chair and cross my arms.

“I mean between you and your partners, the fake ID’s, the impersonation of government officials, and not to mention all that satanic crap all over that room. Why don’t we just start with who and what you actually are.”

I clear my throat as I shift myself again, leaning forward and lacing my fingers together to place them on the table. “You really want to know?” making a show of looking past him to the door then back at him and lean just the smallest bit forward. I watch as he leans in, nodding, to hear me like I’m about to give him top secret information. He’s eager. Good. I can’t stop the grin that forms as I say my next words.

“I’m a Cancer.”

Immediately his face drops and I push back in my chair cackling.

“I see you get your attitude from Mr ‘my boobs’ back there.” He comments, irritation lacing his words.

“They are real, you know, grew them himself.” I take on a matter-of-factly tone, watching his jaw clench at my sarcasm. “Anyway, the logistics of my so-called partner’s chesticles, or rather breasticles, aside,” I wave my hand dismissively. “Am I a suspect?”

“What do you think?” He answers my question with a sarcastic one of his own.

“Well,” I start off, more serious than I was a moment ago. “ I think that you have no proof that I specifically have committed a crime. You have no probable cause in arresting me, so you should probably take these handcuffs off before you have a bigger mess on your hands.” I lift my hands about the table again, this time letting the cuffs clank against the desk and turn my wrists outward, grinning at him as I do so.

“This is a very serious investigation son-” I cut off his speech, already knowing where this is going.

“I have the right to remain silent, anything I say can and will be used against me in a court of law. I have the right to an attorney. If I cannot afford an attorney one will be provided for me. I understand these rights and I do not wish to speak with you.” I repeat my rights to the officer, rolling my eyes and bored with the words I’ve heard plenty of times. “I’d like a lawyer.” I finish, leaning back and holding eye contact.

“You little shi-” I cut him off again.

“And a cigarette if you don’t mind, thank you.” I smirk at him. Movement in the door window behind officer grouchy pulls my attention. A younger officer is peeking in at me. Dark hair, light eyes. Kind of a cutie.

“Hey, that guy there.” I nod toward the door. Officer grouchy turns and catches sight of the cute guy before turning back to me, brows furrowed in question. “Yeah? What about him?”

“If I have to get a pat down, can he do it? He looks like he’s got a Huge…personality.” I’m grinning as I look the younger officer up and down, as much as I can see in the window of the door, and meet his eyes then wink. He dips back behind the door and I can’t see him anymore. I return my focus to the officer in front of me, watching him shake his head in defeat as he stands up.

“We’ll see about getting you a lawyer.” He grumbles out, turning and making his way to the door.

I move forward in a false panic, “Wait before you go!” I start and wait for the officer to look at me again. “Unlock my cuffs?” I raise my wrists again and add a pout. “Pretty please.” Officer grouchy groans and walks out, slamming the door harder than probably necessary. As I slump back in my chair again and let out a huff of air, I notice movement again in the window. Officer Cutie is peeking at me again, so I send a little air kiss his way and notice this time before he disappears from sight again, a little blush. Cute~

Every now and then an officer filters in and asks if I’m ready to talk yet, and every time they are met with my response of “I don’t know, you have my lawyer yet?” They scoff and walk out then more time passes and another comes in, wash, rinse, repeat. I haven’t seen Dad’s journal since the first conversation and that has me only a little worried. Honestly, they are probably using it in Dean’s interrogation, and that’s my only reason for not trying to actually get them to bring it back.

After a few rounds of ‘get me a lawyer’ the older officer from earlier comes back in. He tosses a small, square packet at me, still keeping the table between us. It bounces off my chest down into my lap. A nicotine patch, I realize, looking at it and picking it up. A wicked grin graces my face as I look up at the officer and reach for the patch.

“Wow, not the first time a little square package has been thrown at me, or the last really. Though that’s definitely in more…hm..intimate situations.” I hold the bottom corners with both hands and up to officer grouchy, putting on that same pleading pout I had earlier. “Can Officer Cutie come put it on me~”

“Do you have an off switch?” He rolls his eyes at me and shoves his thumbs into his belt, watching me while I pull my sleeve up.

“I don’t know, wanna find out?” I reply, managing to get the patch on the underside of my arm. Just as I get the patch placed, Officer Cutie, the light eyed officer, pokes his head in the door, knocking twice to announce himself. He’s a little frantic as he says, “Sir, shots fired, we gotta go!” and I watch as they rush out the door, locking it behind them. Now I wait. It won’t be long… just a 3…2…

The door handle starts to jiggle, a couple quiet clicks and then it’s swinging open. Dean crouching on the other side. He gives me a goofy grin before standing up and rushing over to me.

“Give me your hands.” He says, holding his hand out to grab one of the cuffs on my wrist. His other hand comes up and I see the answer to the question I haven’t had the chance to ask. He got out with a goddamn paper clip. Genius I think, shaking my head, and watching him move to the other cuff. I rub my wrists as the cuffs fall, clattering on the table. Great now to get out of here. I stand up and look around the room but stop when I feel Dean smack my arm. I turn to him, then to the spot he’s pointing at. A window. Dean leaps up first, then turns, reaching down to help me up after him. As we make our way to the fire escape Dean questions me.

“So you’re a Cancer now?” He’s grinning. They must have questioned him the same way and pointed out my obvious lie considering they have my information. I chuckle and follow behind him down the escape ladder.

“Yeah!” I look down to see him step onto the pavement and out of the way for me. “And you’ve got some ‘very real boobs’.” I laugh out, jumping down beside him.

“Oh hell yeah!. Grew them myself.” He puffs his chest out in a pose. I smack his chest with the back of my hand, laughter getting louder, as we make our way out of the alley and away from the station. “That’s what I said!”

#supernatural #dean winchester #sam winchester #Mason Winchester #oc #oc art #Just the beginning #oc pairing #Dean being silly #little brother mason #supernatural universe

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gchoate17 · 9 months

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I read 25 books this year, nine of which were fiction. I went down a Malcolm Gladwell hole (that I thought I'd already been down) for a bit, and I read a few good books written by friends, but it's worth noting that I would gladly lose friends before I put a book on this list that didn't deserve to be there. Here were my top 11, ranked in the order that I enjoyed them:

The Handmaid’s Tale by Margaret Atwood (1985)

A perfect futuristic dystopian novel in that it feels like a such a real-world possibility and doesn't overlook the finest of details -- the obvious ones, as well as the subtle ones. I'm eager to pick up the next one.

2. The Bomber Mafia by Malcolm Galdwell (2021)

A fascinating perspective on the advancement of air power and bombing in the years leading up to (and during) World War II. As with most honest war stories, there is no clear good and evil after digging beneath the surface, and Gladwell does a phenomenal job of digging. I highly recommend the audiobook because of the use of recorded interviews.

3. The Tipping Point by Malcolm Gladwell (2000)

Somehow I accidentally deleted my review of this one and now I'm going to lose sleep over it. What I remember, seven months after reading it, is that I'm a connector and I need to collaborate with mavens if I really want to get an idea off the ground. And also that I should be pushing Blues Clues onto my children, even though I'm a die-hard Sesame Streeter.

4. The Lost Son by Stephanie Vanderslice (2022)

I struggled with the back and forth in time and place at first — as I normally do — but settled into it after the first 50 pages, when the narrative takes off. A good gut-punch will tether you to a story no matter where it goes in space and time. In this book, Vanderslice gives us a solid World War II family drama that pulls especially hard on the ties that bind siblings to each other, and parents to their children. I finished this one with a quiet, snotty cry next to a stranger on an airplane.

5. Outliers by Malcolm Gladwell (2008)

Gladwell tells a good story and I'm a big fan of debunking the myth that "genius" alone leads to success -- one also needs resources and the luck of generational timing. As a dad, though, my major takeaway is that my kids should be going to school year-round.

6. The Testaments by Margaret Atwood (2019)

I appreciated the distance in perspective from what Atwood gave us in The Handmaid's Tale. I especially enjoyed Aunt Lydia's perspective and the story of her indoctrination. As the three narratives drifted closer together, I found myself eager for further development of the tale instead of hearing the same tale from different points of view. Still, this should be required reading for the contemporary age.

7. Bettyville by George Hodgman (2015)

Hodgman pieces together vignettes that seem at times unrelated to the next or the last, but he somehow manages to weave together a narrative that is as complete as one can hope. The relationships he gives us are at once sad and humorous, and painfully true when it comes to hiding our fears from the ones we love. This book is ultimately a declaration of the love and forgiveness he has for his mother. And ultimately, oddly, it's also a demonstration of the love she has for him.

8. Crying in H Mart by Michelle Zauner (2021)

This memoir written about a time of sorrow and unknowing follows the writer's exploration of her memories and she applies them to her present day in that common humanistic attempt to make sense of it all. The journey of this book feels authentic, especially because Zauner provides a fantastic soundtrack through Japanese Breakfast that corroborates and reiterates the feelings in the book. She has so much love for her mother and it comes through. (Also, I want to go to Korea and eat all the things now.)

9. Homegrown by Jeffrey Toobin (2023)

It's amazing that we (and Toobin) have access to so many pieces of evidence of McVeigh's life. This book feels exhaustive, but I was glued to everything right up until McVeigh goes into custody. The early sections of the court case got a little dry, but keeping those sections were the right editorial choice because it showed the excessive expenses associated with his defense. Toobin lured me back in. My wife was glad when I finished this one because I finally stopped coming home and saying, "Back to Tim McVeigh -- GET THIS!" and launching into what I learned about him/the case. The whole thing is fascinating.

10. On Animals by Susan Orlean (2021)

An interesting look at how humans interact with various animals in a specific time and place, but also throughout history. Well researched, but full of warm language. A plethora of interesting tidbits to share with the wife (that she doesn't really care about probably, but she humors me and listens).

11. We Hold Our Breath by Micah Fields (2023)

Though I've visited a half-dozen or so times, Houston has never had a definable personality for me. I appreciated the personality of the city Fields gives us here, but his real accomplishment is the portrait he provides of his imperfect mother. It's in how he writes honestly about her flaws that we see the love he has for her. That's not easy to do.

Previous Book Lists: 2022, 2021, 2020, 2019, 2018, 2017, 2016, 2015, 2014, 2013, 2012, 2011.

#book lists #books #reading #best of 2023 #2023 books #malcolm gladwell #a handmaid's tale #margaret atwood #stephanie vanderslice #micah fields #michelle zauner #jeffrey toobin #george hodgman #susan orlean

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avocado-frog · 2 years

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Forget-me-not. 26 (lmao I didn't outline this one)

Chapter rating: M Chapter warnings: Past kidnapping, isolation, child abuse, neglect, gore, eye trauma, death threats, past death. (all of this to a kid who is like nine years old by the way I DEEPLY apologize) This is what happens when I don't have a plan Chapter title: 7/30/2017--3/14/2019 Word count: 2000 Summary: Ryan has a knife, what will he do. The chapter in which Ryan takes out Elliot's eye and adds a new tick to the trauma bingo

(July 30, 2017, two years before)

The clock above the door ticked steadily. Ryan glanced up, fingers dug deep into the white quilt on his bed, knuckles turning yellow. An hour. Sam had been gone for an hour.

He tried not to worry. Sam was always okay in the end. Ryan didn't know what to do if he wasn't. He stood up, it'd been too long since Sam left, and left for the bathroom attached to the main room.

Ryan refused to look in the mirror. He wasn't identical to his brothers, but he was too close to Elliot in face shape, eye color, and stature to look at himself without seeing Elliot and wanting to cry. Sam looked like him too, sometimes. Ryan couldn't look at him either. Ryan looked more like his mother, too. He didn't want to think about her, or his brother.

There was a hand towel by the sink, spotted with little red dots, that Ryan used for Sam whenever he came back, and that Sam would use for Ryan. Sam would be back any second now- had to be- and so it was best to be prepared. He took the towel off the rack, folded it, and left.

Setting it down on Sam's bed, he couldn't do anything but wait, knee bouncing, as he watched the clock above the door. His dread grew with each tick, every second Sam was gone.

The door buzzed, and Ryan flinched, hands twitching to cover his ears. Panic spiked, heart dropping, when it wasn't Sam, but a taller woman in a white coat and latex gloves, a blue surgical mask hiding her face. She was waiting for him. Emma- maybe Emily- he thought her name was. He never bothered to keep track of their names, neither did Sam.

He stood up, hands shaking, trying to stay calm, as he followed her. The latex glove covered his, she led him down a white hallway, through tiled floors, florescent lights buzzed above them. It was all too sterile, too clean, he remembered what it was like outside, unlike Sam. Sam couldn't remember. Ryan wanted to go outside again. He always promised his brother that they could go together someday. Maybe they'd be able to.

He liked to imagine his mother taking him down the hallways whenever he was taken out of his room, instead of the stranger with him. Maybe Elliot, too. He missed them.

He let Emily lead him up the stairs, a place he'd never been before. Ryan looked up instead of down until they got to the top.

If he looked down, Sam would be clinging to his sleeve as they ran down the staircase, away from the man with the chainsaw, and Ryan would trip over his brother's lifeless body, as the man grew closer, and the door would open, and helicopters and vans and lights would be swarming around them. He didn't look down.

They walked down the hall, the second floor this time, and Ryan was getting tired, unused to walking for so long. Emily stopped in front of a door, removing the keycard from her neck, one hand planted firmly on his shoulder. He paid careful attention to her hands, as she opened the lab coat, removing something small- a blade?- from the pocket inside.

Emily was talking to him, but the mask, and the sounds of muffled screams made it hard to hear her. She handed him the scalpel. It was cold.

The door unlocked, and Ryan kept his eyes on Emily's hands, flinching when they moved. Her hand remained on his shoulder as she pushed him inside. She stayed behind him when the door locked again.

The scalpel felt heavy in his hands, he stared at the floor now. Black and white, checkered, tiles met his gaze. Blood was smeared on them, more visible on the white tiles. He swallowed thickly, a muffled cry for help echoed through the small room.

Ryan recognized the voice as Sam's, and willed himself to look up. He met gazes with Sam, held against the wall from behind with a knife to his throat, one gloved hand over his mouth. Sam's gaze flickered over to something else, something Ryan hadn't noticed.

A second person, a small, boy in a white uniform that hung loosely on his thin frame. He paced around the room, hands shaking, as he mumbled something to himself, unaware that Sam was there, and unaware that Ryan was there. His hair was bleached white, flopping over his face. He threw his head back, laughing at something.

He knew who it was without really knowing. He looked back at Sam, who gave a stiff, subtle nod, trying not to move with the knife to his throat.

Sam blamed himself for Elliot's death, and on bad days, so did Ryan. He'd seen everything, he knew everything. He remembered tripping over Elliot's body. He knew Elliot was dead. And yet, here he was, talking and laughing, shaking and pacing.

Emily told him to do something, and Ryan barely heard over his own thoughts. Elliot had been alive the whole time. He wanted to cry again.

Ryan understood Emily's words, despite having hardly heard. Sam had a knife to his throat, Ryan had a scalpel in his hands, and Elliot was there, too.

The scalpel grew heavier, as he tightened his grip on it, walking towards his youngest brother, in the way of the small circle he was pacing in. Gently, he put his hand on his shoulder, breath hitching, as Elliot didn't seem to recognize him.

Kill him.

Kill him, or they'll kill Sam.

He could try to reach out to Elliot again, he thought, hand still on his shoulder, now pushing him against the wall. Elliot didn't struggle. He simply stared at Ryan, gaze empty, like he didn't even see him. He didn't even try to fight back.

So, Ryan let go of his shoulder. Elliot didn't move. He only stared. He was getting desperate now, for any sort of reaction. He couldn't do it.

There was still a knife to Sam's throat.

"Elliot?" Ryan tried, and Elliot's eyes still held the same amount of recognition, nothing. "Elliot, please." Say something. Scream, cry, just do something. What did they do to you?

"Elliot." Ryan shook his shoulder, and Elliot didn't respond. Ryan sighed softly, expression twisting. He couldn't do it. He couldn't do it. "I'm sorry."

Elliot's hand twitched, and moved, grabbing onto Ryan's free hand weakly. Ryan gripped his hand tighter, raising the scalpel.

It plunged into his brother's eye- the gold one- and blood spewed out, splattered across both their faces. Ryan staggered back. And yet, Elliot still didn't scream. He just fell, to his knees, blade still in his eye, and then, fell to his side. The hand that had been holding his fell away.

Blood pooled around his head, and Ryan took another step back, mouth open in a silent scream, startling when Sam barreled into him, almost knocking him over. Sam trembled, and Ryan kept his eyes locked on Elliot.

Now, Elliot did seem to recognize him, as he hugged Sam and left Elliot bleeding on the cold tiles, now Elliot looked betrayed. Ryan didn't blame him. He remained frozen, gaze remaining on the youngest, as adults swarmed around him, and he was guided back out the room.

Back down the stairs, Sam refused to look down, too. Back down the sterile, white halls, back to the safety of his room. The door locked again.

Sam nudged his shoulder. "Ryan? ...You okay?"

Ryan didn't bother responding. Blood trickled down his forehead. It wasn't his.

Sam, now, had the back of his shoulder, and it was more comforting than Emily's, as he sat him down on the thin mattress. The towel Ryan set out for Sam in preparation now laid in Sam's hand. He barely heard the sink running, before Sam returned, and sat next to him.

"That was Elliot, wasn't it?" Sam asked, voice small. Ryan nodded. He wished he could forget like Sam, and clearly like Elliot. Sam pressed the cold towel to the blood on his forehead. "Thought so."

Sam finished quickly, the white towel soon soaked with blood. "There! Is that better?"

Ryan didn't respond. It still felt like there was blood on his hands. His vision blurred.

"Hey, hey, hey, woah, don't cry!" Sam was hugging him now. "It's okay, I'm okay. It's over now."

It didn't feel over. It replayed. Again, and again, the lack of recognition in his brother's gaze, the way the handle of the blade felt when it dug into his eye, the warm blood on his face. He grasped at the back of Sam's shirt, Sam hugged him tighter.

"You're safe. Promise. Elliot's going to be okay. Everything's going to be okay."

---

(March 14, 2019)

Ryan wondered if Leo was right. She said that since he regretted it, of course he regretted it, then he was justified in stabbing Elliot's eye out. He regretted it, he'd tried to make it up to him, he hadn't been given a choice. Sam gave him the same reaction, the validation in taking Elliot's eye. Nothing he did could make it up to him.

He thought Leo was wrong, because even though, when he told the others, half-hiding behind his sister, no one hated him. No one wanted to kick him out, no one thought he was insane. And yet, Leo was wrong, because when he told Elliot, he screamed, and ran, and attacked him and Sam and Leo.

So Leo was wrong.

He sat next to his brother's bed, sitting on Elliot's desk chair. Elliot was asleep for once, after four separate tries, each ending with him jerking upright, screaming, breaking down into hysterical mutterings of apologies. Ryan stayed with him, because Sam was mad at him, and he needed to make sure Elliot would be okay.

It was midnight now. Ryan didn't like not getting sleep, but he'd done it plenty of times before. Tomorrow, he would talk to Sam, because he hated being mad at him. Ryan wasn't even mad at him. It was the other way around. He could only hope that Sam would forgive him. Otherwise, he was left with only one brother.

Elliot wore an eye patch still, while he slept, even if he technically didn't think he was supposed to. Elliot had a collection of them, a plastic one that had come with a pirate sword, to a real fabric one. Ryan had read about prosthetic ones, but they didn't have a hospital that could give him one. Elliot said he didn't want one, anyways.

His heart always plummeted whenever he saw it. He wondered what the purpose of that had even been. Just to hurt all three of them?

Elliot's hand twitched like he was going to wake up again, and Ryan slid his hand into his brother's.

"You'll be okay. Promise."

#its because of this chapter the trilogy dubbed baby triplet backstory has occurred and I will not apologize for the emotional pain of 28 #writing #original work #whump #?#warnings for gross eye stuff #tw minor whump

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