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trashmouth-richie · 1 year

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eddie x Fem! Reader

honey I’m home masterlist

TW: 18+ hospitals, trauma, crying, etc

A/N: this is a short little chapter. the next one will be longer— thank you for hanging onto this story even though it took me forever to get it started. I have most of the next chapter done so it’ll probably be posted next week.

The blue and red lights are blinking in rapid succession. Painting the curtains in washes of ruby and royal.

The sirens should have been loud but Eddie figured it was the blood trickling down his head and into his ear canal that was preventing him from hearing clearly.

He fought with the first responders.

Fought with the people fussing over him and trying to rush him into an ambulance.

He refused to leave you.

He didn’t need to be cared for.

He didn’t care about anything.

Only you.

Mr. Derry’s loud knock and burst through the door was the exact distraction needed for Eddie to grip the bat in his bloody hand.

Rings squeezing tight around blood and the wooden handle, he swung hard. A suddenly athlete in a smokers body. He felt the thuds and friction vibrating in his forearms when the nailed head connected with flesh. But he didn’t stop until there were two crumpled bodies collapsed on the red stained carpet.

And when the ambulance crew met him at the door, gurney ready, you were wrapped tight in his arms. A faint pulse echoed like a whisper against your skin. Eddie’s tears streaming down his face and onto yours.

His promise pressed delicately to your lips.

—

“What have we got?”

“According to the patient’s friend, she is twenty-one-year, sir! you need to be looked at, and lived by herself for the past few months..”

I’m fine! Jesus— get off me and help her!

“…call came in at 2208 from a Mr. William Derry— the neighbor— claiming there were screams coming from across the street of his residence on Cherry Lane. Dispatch didn’t think to respond right away due to the many calls Mr. Derry has submitted to the Police Department.”

“Sir, I am not telling you again, you need to be checked out!”

“Jesus Christ.”

“When nobody showed up, the neighbor went across the street after hearing more screaming. Patient was held up by her throat by the DOA”

“Bill has him in truck 011, ID found on the body confirmed he was Chad Cunningham.”

—-

Eddie is standing before you, looking the same has he did the morning g after Halloween. It’s similar but different. There’s more light in the kitchen, and he is rosy cheeked like a cherub, his movements almost floating like angel wings as he moves the carton of orange juice hp to his lips, small glints of a silver nipple ring peaking out from the cutoff shirt he wore.

When he speaks, it’s like a harp is playing, all song and beautiful notes, extending and echoing around the room.

“So when do I get this trophy sweetheart?” He says with a grin, “thinking of putting on a shelf in my room,”

Your laugh feels like butterflies tickling your stomach, “you can’t be serious.”

His head dips as he walks towards you, smile displaying the prettiest teeth, “damn straight, want the whole town to know I had the best costume!”

“Stolen costume,”

“Pppffft, I just borrowed it.” the wink he delivers is almost sinful, toothachingly sweet enough to give a dentist a cavity, and you melt on the spot.

—

“Miss? Can you tell us your name? Can you tell us anything?”

Sterile.

Chemical.

You were either in a hospital or a morgue. You didn’t feel any pain so it very likely could be the worst of the two options. Whatever you were laying on was cold. And when you tried to move you found you couldn’t.

Is this death?

Eyelids heavy and unable to cooperate and make the connection with your brain on flicking open so you could see what was happening.

The only thing constant was a buzzing in both ears. A tug along your eyelids and rubber glove fingers on your body. But you were trapped in your mind, unable to speak, to scream, to show any physical movements other than the involuntary rise and fall of your chest and your lungs being filled with oxygen, fed through flexible plastic of the oxygen mask placed on your face.

Oblivious to your surroundings.

“Severe trauma to both eyes, laceration to the back of the head, severe swelling and possible damage to the larynx, Katerina, what did the CT show?”

“CT came back clear, X-Ray showed a break to both zygomatic bones, 5th and 6th ribs and a lacerated spleen…”

“Look at her nails, poor thing fought for her life,”

“they both did.”

You found the will to whisper what you needed to tell them. Voice hoarse and barely audible, removing the mask they look in horror back at your words, and immediately the feeling of warm liquid entering your veins and the blur of sleep covers your body.

—

He visits you again, this time you know it’s a dream. The pink clouds flow behind his head even though you are standing in the living room. But it’s different, blurred on the edges, hazy sweet and refined. How heaven could be described.

“I look good in this don’t even lie,” Eddie says with a spin, the white cotton of your robe resembling a mini skirt on his long legs, “but if you want me to take it off all you have to do is ask, I’m a pleaser, baby.”

He was every version of himself, handsome, gross and menacing. Sweet and caring, eye twinkling, soft voiced: Eddie. The beer taped to his hand like it was all those months ago when you splashed him awake, threatening to kick him out.

Delivering his classic one liners that you now knew helped fuel your love for him.

“What? Hair of the dog baby, gotta keep drinking to avoid a hangover.”

And maybe your love for him was always there.

Showing up in the background, fluttering bird wings of your heart before you even noticed.

Developing into something sweeter, deeper, so heartbreakingly sick it took a disaster and almost the last pulse in your veins for you to be able to admit it.

Steve had been pacing the cream colored tiles for over thirty minutes. The squeak of his Nikes against the floor were something Eddie was trying hard to focus on instead of worrying about you in the ICU, but so far it wasn’t working.

The nasal cannula was annoying, he could breathe fine on his own. The stitches in his eyebrow itched and stung with each weave through his skin, pulled taut around the swelling in his face.

The shot the nurses had administered to calm him down after screaming and trying to fight his way to you, was making his mind fuzzy— still, Steve’s pacing kept him company. Step step step squeak, step step step hand in hair, followed by an agitated huffing breath.

A nurse with a long blond ponytail braided down her back opens the polyester curtain with a drag and slips inside the room. A black rubber and steel stethoscope around her neck, before she could introduce herself Steve exploded with fury.

“Tell me what the hell is going on in this poor excuse for a hospital, right now!” Steve’s hair shook from its feathered position when he spoke, his demanding voice booming across the tiles.

Without missing a beat and clearly dealing with high strung men before she said almost monotonously, “Sir, you need to calm yourself down, this is a h-”

But Steve’s fire was only fueled by her dismissive tone, his voice never wavering, “No, I will not calm down! The police were made aware of this situation a year ago and nothing was ever done!”

The police officer standing outside guarding entry to the room tipped his head in slow, “Mr. Harrington, we hear your complaints but there isn’t anything we can—”

“Bullshit!” A tear stain cheeked Robin sobbed, her face red and blotchy from hours of crying and rubbing her freckles clean, “Eddie told you what happened yet he’s still cuffed to a bed like a fucking criminal!”

She broke down again, clinging to Steve’s side like a wounded child, sobbing into the soft cotton of his crewneck sweater. “This is unethical! Unco—”

“Alright that’s enough hot shot,” Hopper shouts in finality towards Steve, a wrinkle burrowed deep in his forehead accompanied with graying thick eyebrows set in a devastating frown.

“Chief,” Wayne interjects, cap wringing in his calloused, wrinkle bared hands, his voice wobbly but steady, runny nose and wet tears cling to his scruffy beard, “my son was protectin’ that girl, you know Eddie…he’d never hurt someone unless his life or someone he cared about was in danger.”

Hopper tore his gaze from the one of the richest in the room to the poorest, hanging his head with sorrow, “ ‘m sorry, Wayne— but until Mr. Derry’s statement comes back and Eddie is cleared… the cuffs stay.”

Wayne hung his head low, the few wiry hairs on his balding head stuck in all sorts of directions despite his attempt at raking them into submission.

“Jim Hopper you should be ashamed of yourself,” Karen Wheeler spoke up now, head held high, claw clip teetering with each gesturing movement of her head, “you know good and well this boy couldn’t have done that to her! They loved each other!”

Since the pacing of Steve’s feet had stopped Eddie’s heart rattled hard in his chest, he clawed at the heart monitors on his chest, tried to bite the IV’s from his arms, caged like a wild animal he let out a broken cry, “ple— please, she needs me.”

“Mr. Munson,” the nurse with blonde hair replies sternly, “she is in critical condition, we don’t know if or when she will be able to to recover, she is heavily sedated and needs rest, her only visitors will be family at this time.”

“Speaking of,” another nurse chirps, young and fresh gilled, entirely too eager to please her superior, “do you know how to get a hold of her family?”

He shakes his head slow, causing a pounding headache, “I am her family,” Eddie grunts through clenched teeth, pushing himself up on the bed as far as his cuffs would allow, Steve’s hand on his shoulder. “Look around this room! Ted and Karen Wheeler, Steve Harrington, Robin Buckley, Nancy Byers.. we are all she has,” a single tear falls down his bruised cheek, liquid salt in the cut in his top lip.

“Okay sir.. who is responsible for her?”

“In regards to what? Financially? You money hungry pricks just don’t let up so you?,” Ted Wheeler finally speaks behind his wife, shock and anger evident on his wrinkled features.

“Not exactly…”

“Whatever it is, I will handle it, alright?” Eddie interjects, annoyed with the questions, worried only about you, “I’m responsible for her.”

“Oh,” the nurse says, perking up slightly, marking a red check mark on her clipboard, smoothing out her uniform, “so you are aware of her condition then.”

Light bulbs click for everyone in the room but the curly brown haired metal head.

Oh my God

…Tooty

Holy shit.

“That she got the shit kicked out of her by that fucking psycho Chad Cunningham?”

Eddie.

Ma’am can we talk privately in the hall?

“…obviously I’m aware! I was there when it happened! That dumb fuck already took my statement!” he said gesturing to Deputy Wallace.

“No, Mr. Munson..”

This isn’t the time for this! Wayne tried to warn the nurse, but it fell on deaf, naive ears.

“…she’s right around twelve weeks pregnant.”

A pin dropping could have been heard from a mile away. The oxygen was sucked from the room. Karen’s hand was clapped around her mouth. Nancy and Robin choked back sobs.

Everyone was struck with horror, but not Eddie.

His mind playing that beautiful night between you like a movie in his head. The way your skin felt, the way his heart ached with fullness at your shared fervor and passion.

REWIND

PLAY

The curve of your lips on his skin, kissing him sweet and slow, no noise, just the love making swallowing you both whole.

REWIND

PLAY

PAUSE

Your soft snores as he counted the popcorn marks in the ceiling, his girl. His entire universe.

STOP

EJECT

The tears rolled like a ferocious river down his face, carving a path down his cheeks and under his wobbling chin, wetting the hospital gown he was forced into when he got here.

You were alone.

He didn’t know anything about pregnancy besides the woman usually got sick right? Every emotion that most men feel when finding out they were going to be a dad hit him all at once.

But not fear.

He imagined you with a big swollen belly, feet too pudgy to fit into shoes, he’d rub them with lotion until you could fall asleep.

He’d imagined his arms holding you from behind, your baby wrapped in his arms still in your womb. The relief you might feel from the weight being in his hands.

You were experiencing this pain all by yourself.

He couldn’t fathom how you were feeling. Scared. Hopeless? He had no idea. And the thought of you being alone had him nauseous.

Why didn’t you didn’t tell him?

Why didn’t anyone tell him?

His fury built and shook as his voiced boom with grief as he screamed at Steve, dark eyes blood shot and red rimmed.

“How could you,” he broke, struggling through the words, "why would you not tell me?!” The cuffs around his wrist broke skin as he tried to claw his way out of them, trying to reach at Steve’s shirt demanding to be heard.

“Ed— fuck man!” Steve started, mouth gaping at Eddie’s arms dripping with blood from his fresh wounds, “we didn’t know!”

Robin speaks now, trying to reach for Eddie’s hand to offer him some comfort, “She didn’t tell us, Eddie—Steve is right, she didn’t say a word to any of us about it.”

“Fuck!” Eddie screams, slamming his wrists into the bed sides, “I sh—should h-have..,” the end falls silent as his long legs were pulled to his chin and he buried his head into them.

In the minutes it had been since he found out, he was already a shitty fucking dad.

The pain of what happened to you and him not being able to stop it quick enough was killing him, and now, realizing that you were carrying his child and you were all alone?

There weren’t words for the gut wrenching feeling ripping through him. Overwhelming dread, chest tight with panic and pain. The nausea overtaking him. The vomit came fast, splashing allover himself and the bed, landing in thick puddles on Steve’s shoes. He cried harder and sobbed uncontrollably. When his stomach was empty he could only dry heave.

Wayne moved across the tiled floor in quick steps, careful not to slip in the wayward puke in his path. Sitting down hard and with purpose next to Eddie. This wasn’t his first rodeo of seeing Eddie in this turmoil. But never as a grown man.

He tried his hardest to hold back the tears he swore he’d never let fall in front of his boy, but gravity won the fight when Eddie pulled him into a bone crushing hug, his sobs snuffed by the canvas of his work jacket.

———

It was a full 12 hours before Mr. Derry’s statement was released. Tough old bird, he couldn’t be coerced even with the gentle threat from the Cunningham’s came down hard breathing down his neck.

Surely not their son? Their angel?

But the proof was there. An eye witness statement and a severely beaten woman, the record from years past and the statement from both Steve and Robin on what happened last year at your apartment, stood its ground.

Eddie was cleared as a free man, self defense in the eyes of the law. The second his cuffs were off he was throwing his boots onto his gripper socked feet, and untangling himself from wires and needles.

Steve and Wayne had both taken off work to help Eddie pick up his medication and make him go home and rest. When he tried to protest, Wayne gave Eddie a look that could pierce steel, the kind of look saying no bullshit, and begrudgingly he followed the men out to Steve’s Mercedes.

Nancy and Karen stayed behind at the hospital, filling your room with heavily perfumed flowers. Hushed whispers between the mother and daughter as they prayed and hoped that you would make it out of this horrific nightmare.

The doctors would only speak to Eddie. Letting him aware that your condition was improving but they would not be able to lift the sedation just yet. A day passed then another. Eddie slept in the hospital grade recliner in your room each night. Singing you sweet lulls of your favorite song. Promising you the world if you would just open your eyes.

He was weak himself. Fighting the urge to break down in front of anyone again with each hour that passed.

4 days led to 5 and the nurses and doctors whispered behind their clipboards. On the 6th day they decided to lift the sedation to see how your body would tolerate pain.

Eddie never left.

Machines beeped and ticked. Tubes and wires connecting from you drip with fluid and monitoring systems. The white walls and outdated curtains of the hospital shine a yellowed glow into your room, bringing with it a warmth to your cotton thread blanket and warming the skin on your arms. A welcomed feeling compared to the cold needles of the IV poking into your skin delivering flows of medicine and liquids to keep you hydrated and your pain manageable.

Foiled balloons printed with get well wishes bounce and sway with the kick on from the vent.

One of your hands is unexpectedly warmer than the other. A rough drag across the knobs of your knuckles is a familiar feeling, and you smell him before you even open your eyes to acknowledge that it’s him.

The clinging smell of cigarettes on a freshly washed shirt and the spice of deodorant force their way into your nose. It’s a different shampoo than the one you’re used to catching on him. More manly. All sandalwood and musk a hint of citrus. And at first you think he’s someone else… maybe Steve picked up smoking heavily again?

But when a tuned hum reverberates low against your hand followed by a pair of lips kissing gently around the IV and tape poked and laid against your skin, you know for certain it’s the man you’ve been dreaming about.

The one you cried for.

The one who visited your sleeping mind and told you everything was going to be okay.

His name falls from your lips like choked frozen honey, thick in your mouth and on a dry tongue.

It was the most beautiful noise he had ever heard.

His girl. His whole world. Awake.

#eddie munson #eddie x fem!reader #eddie x you #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x reader #fic recs #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson angst #stranger things

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richarlotte · 24 days

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Hair Removal Methods.

I was heavily inspired by a post I found on Reddit when making this post. I haven’t seen too many posts about hair removal methods on Tumblr, and I have quite a few asks in my inbox about that, so it made sense for me to make a small guide with tips, methods, and recommendations. If you want more information, product names, my sugar wax recipe, or just recommendations, please don’t hesitate to send me an email or just comment below for me to respond.

Shaving.

Cost: $

Speed: Average

Smoothness: Average

Discomfort: Low

Tips/Methods:

* Always buy men’s razors. They usually come with sharper blades that don’t clog as much as the blades on women’s razors.

* I only shave using hot water and when I’m in the shower. The hot water softens the hair and makes it easy to remove, and the flow of the water prevents my razor from clogging.

* The direction you shave is important. If you shave against the grain (the direction opposite the hair points), you can get a closer shave, but you risk ingrown hairs. Shave with the grain on sensitive areas and do multiple passes if needed.

* I personally use shaving cream from EOS and products from Topicals to lessen ingrown hairs and clear up dark marks. Shaving isn’t my preferred method or hair removal, but when I’m in a rush, it gets the job done.

Best for your whole body, especially large and flat areas like your arms and legs. It's cheap and effective but often time consuming. If you want to maintain a perfectly smooth body, you’ll have to shave or touch up at least twice a week.

Nair/Chemical Removal.

Cost: $

Speed: Medium

Smoothness: Smooth

Discomfort: Low

Tips/Methods:

* There are many brands but the basic idea is you apply the cream to your skin, wait 5-10 minutes while the hair “melts" off your body, then you wipe it off. You’ll definitely need to shower after using Nair to remove any excess cream and to avoid burning your skin. I would say this is mandatory unless your specific brand says otherwise.

* The process will probably smell pretty bad. You'll want to wipe the cream and hair off with something disposable to avoid ruining your regular towels. I personally use tissue, you can use anything easily accessible.

* PATCH TEST BEFORE USE. These creams and powders are made from very really strong chemicals and can absolutely mess you up if you aren't careful. Everyone's skin is different, so put a little on your arm first, see how it reacts, then use it on a larger area.

Best For: Armpits and pubic hair. I find these creams are best at getting hard to reach or uneven surfaces that your razor might struggle with. This is also a good option if you are in a hurry or don't have the option to try the options below.

Epilation.

Cost: $$

Speed: Slow

Smoothness: High

Discomfort: High

Tips/Methods:

* Epilators look kind of like foil shavers you'd use for your face, but the end has a roller with tiny clamps that essentially grab hairs and pull them out.

* Personally I think these hurt like a bitch, especially the first time you use them. You can definitely feel each individual hair get pulled out of your skin.

* The main benefit of an epilator (and waxing, discussed below) is that you're pulling the entire hair out, root and all. This means hair in that area will grow back significantly slower than shaving. It also means that if you're willing to commit to a routine, each future use with the epilator will be less painful.

* I highly recommend icing the area before and after to avoid swelling. That being said, the area needs to be completely dry for the device to work.

* Epilator performance has always been pretty hit and miss for me. They're good at getting coarse hair, but will struggle to get fine or short strands. Again, you will likely need to make a shaving pass to clean up anything left behind.

* Additionally, if your hair is too thick or the surface is too uneven, the epilator can get tangled and stop functioning leading to a super painful situation. As with any of these tips, definitely test on a small area and see how it performs for you so you can get a feel for the length/thickness your device can handle.

Best For: Flat smooth surfaces, primarily your arms, legs, and torso. Some people really love epilation, others don’t. I think epilation is an acquired taste and it’s not my favorite method.

Waxing.

Cost: $$ to $$$

Speed: Slow

Smoothness: High

Discomfort: High

Tips/Methods:

* When you need to get 100% smooth there is no substitute. I love the way my body feels after waxing or sugaring and it’s what works best for me.

* I'll do my best here as a general overview but please watch some video guides before attempting this. I'll cover the two most common options I have experience with: soft wax, sugaring, and hard wax.

* Soft Wax: Hot wax is applied to the skin, then bandage strips are applied over. Once the wax cools, the strips are pulled off, taking the hair with them. This method is probably what you've seen in movies. They're good for getting rid of finer hairs, but unlike hard wax, you risk taking off your skin if you do it wrong. If you're trying waxing at home (especially for the first time), avoid this option. Despite the name, hard wax is actually much safer and what I recommend

* Hard wax: Hot wax is applied to the skin. Once it hardens, you peel the wax off by itself, taking hair with it. Since hard wax only bonds to hair and not skin it's a much safer option for beginners and does just as good a job removing hair as soft wax. This is what I use when I don’t have time to make my sugaring solution and I've never looked back.

* Wax is warmed in a... wax warmer! It's a little pot with a heating element, kind of like a croc pot. Hard waxes come in pellets that you dump in, soft waxes usually come with their own container that pops into the unit. Look for a wax warmer that can adjust the temp, not just an on/off switch. Most but not all have this feature. Each wax brand is different so you'll need more/less heat to melt it correctly, especially if you're doing a longer session where the wax can begin to solidify in the pot.

* Popsicle sticks are a cheap, effective way to apply wax. You'll want something disposable as it can get quite messy.

* Waxing, like epilators, will slow down your hair growth. This means the more you do it in the same area the less hair will grow back, and the less painful each subsequent application will be.

* Your hair needs to be a certain length for the wax to catch, so check your brand and plan accordingly. My professional technician has mentioned 1/4th inch is a good guideline for when to start waxing.

* As with every method on this list, please test on a small part of your body first. The wax will be quite hot (like getting into a hot bath) but not so much that it burns your skin.

Best For: any area you want super smooth or silky.

Laser Hair Removal.

Cost: $$$$

Speed: Slow

Smoothness: Depends.

Discomfort: High

Tips/Methods:

* Getting started will take some time and effort. You have to set up a consultation beforehand before even scheduling a session where you'll talk to the professional, ask any questions, then work out your plan.

* Laser hair removal is a process over time, not a one and done. Considering each session can cost hundreds of dollars, we are talking a huge investment. It cost me $800 over 4 sessions just for a small area on my lower body. For larger areas, we could be talking thousands!

* On that note, the total cost is going to vary a ton. Not only will each area be priced differently, but most places require you to book multiple sessions in a row or packages of X sessions you can choose to use over a year.

* The pigment of your skin matters a lot. Generally speaking the darker your skin the harder/less effective the process will be. There are different types of lasers available that may make this irrelevant but you'll definitely want to do your homework.

Final Thoughts.

What matters most is time. If you have the time to wax or shave your whole body, go to a professional for laser hair removal or pro waxing, or epilate yourself, then you’ll have much better results than someone who rushes through everything. Learning, investing in quality products, and then actually investing time into the hair removal process will get you closer to where you want to be without wasting as much time or money as you would leaping in blind or with no effort.

Richarlotte x

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thestarfishinjootsoffice · 3 months

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Okay so I was watching heathers and I had an idea for Freddy x reader. Reader has an absolute dickhead in their family who treats her like crap and who she's dreamed about the death of many times and Freddy's been watching her through her dreams and kills the person.

"I prayed for the death of Heather Chandler many times. I felt bad every time but I kept doing it anyway. Now I know you understood everything."

I haven't watched heathers so I'm sorry if I got anything wrong. Dreaming freedom, anyone? And btw, Heather doesn't die by chemical poisoning here.

Warnings: mention of death and choking, stabbing, gore, weight shaming on Chandler's part, Reader's kind of psychotic, Freddy is a perv, OOC can't write freddy to save my life. Shit writing.

Relationship: romantic (I think?) Platonic romantic.

Freddy Krueger x reader!

You weren't too fond of the narcissistic manipulative and cruel bitch of a person in your family named "heather chandler"

You couldn't help but dream about her dying tragically or some other way. You felt kinda guilty but she always thought she was better than everyone else and didn't even try hiding it from anyone. She's aware and that's what pisses you off even more.

Your guilt would vanish temporarily every time she does a dick move on you. It got so bad to the point you would pray to whatever higher being is up there that she would just die already, you didn't care how or when.

This was especially amusing to the Freddy Krueger. He has never seen a person hate someone this bad before, it got him wondering what the hell this person had done to die so many times in your dreams.

"Oh y/n, it's been so long." The blond he knew as Heather, said. "It seems you've... Put on/off so much more weight than last time I've seen you, you look fine though." She tried to make it sound like she was reassuring you. Inevitably it pissed you off.

"Hah-" Something got stuck in her throat as she put a spoon of something into her mouth. She made gagging noises while holding her throat, unable to cough it out her face turned red and blue as she panicked.

"Heather are you okay!?" Her posse came up to her side, one of them hitting her back to get rid of the piece of food in her esophagus but to no avail.

You watched in silence as everything seems to slow down and blur, eyes focused on the dying body of your relative. Heather's panicked eyes as she stared into yours, her face full of fear and blue with her veins popping out at her temple.

Freddy was watching the scene with you, (not that you knew) this was however one of the more tame deaths, he saw some brutal scenes. It was more than enough evidence to hint that Heather treated you like absolute shit. And she did and said things much worse than your weight.

Inevitably Freddy became fascinated with you this way. It was a level of disturbingly sexy as he would describe it. A girl almost as blood thirsty as him. (only towards one person but you get the point) Now looking forward towards night time more than ever, I mean, sure he's still haunting kids in their dreams and killing them but it's special when he's into yours. Occasionally acting as some background character or one of Heather's little minions while watching what kind of death you're dreaming about this time.

You stepped into her house, pulling out a knife from one of her kitchen drawers. And stepping up into her bedroom – you opened the door and hid your hands behind you.

"Good morning, Heather." You greeted with a smile, which caused Heather to immediately rouse from her sleep and sit up quickly.

"Reader... How the hell did you get in here?"

"Heather, I wanna apologize."

"Oh do you?" She retorted sarcastically.

"Again, how did you get in he-"

"No, not for that." You cut her off.

Before Heather could question you for the third time, you moved your hand from your back to your side – revealing the knife you had in your hand earlier. Causing her to become alerted.

"Reader, what do you think you're doing?" She asked and backed into her bed further. You approached quickly and held onto her arm – then you swiftly stabbed the knife into her chest, ripping through her night shirt, watching her scream as blood immediately flowed out flawlessly and down onto her lap and bed. Pulling out the knife and stabbing it back in again until blood travelled up to her throat from the inside and started choking on it. A big hole in the middle of her chest, if you wanted to you could reach in and grab her literal heart.

After a while both you and Heather C were covered in blood. She was dead though obviously, she laid lifeless on her bed with a dark river of red from her mouth as the cherry on top along with the bloodbath on her bed. Freddy watched the whole scene with a twisted sense of amusement and an attraction towards you stronger than ever. Seeing you covered in blood like that was arousing him more than he thought it would.

Freddy sighed and decided with a smirk that he would fulfill your wish and kill Heather for you. Of course, he leaves traces on you secretly to watch you outside of your dreams. He snickers to himself every time he catches you actually praying for Chandler to die. God, you hated her guts in every sense of the words. And to him it was the most hilarious thing ever. He felt you slowly starting to wake up.

A few days later at school, you heard from your friends that Chandler died. Actually died.

Apparently she was found dead in her bed with claw marks on her body, along with a deep hole in her chest. Similar to the one you had in your dream... You felt both a rush of nervousness and guilt. For some reason you felt like it was your fault she died. But it wasn't, how could it? She died in her 'sleep mysteriously'. You had nothing to do with this.

With that you went to bed that night peacefully. No more dreaming or praying for the death of Heather C, as she was finally gone.

Freddy had no plans of letting you sleep peacefully.

As you woke up, (in your sleep) you sat up and looked at the figure a few feet away from your bed. A man.. Burnt-through the-skin man wearing a fedora hat, with metal claws and... Christmas themed shirt?

"Are you happy, Reader?" The man asked, his voice was gravely deep and distorted.

"Happy for what?"

"That your worst enemy, Heather fucking Chandler is dead."

"Oh..." Man, this is a weird dream isn't it? You thought. And you swore the man smirked wider. "Yes, I am quite happy about it-"

"I promise you, dear, this is no ordinary dream."

"Wait what."

"And you'll be very happy to hear that i killed that bitch for you. Aren't you glad? Reader." He strided towards you.

"Why don't you thank me?"

You only looked at him in silence, kind of scared and suspicious.

"What, don't believe me?" He scoffed and leaned in, causing you to back away. But you hit the wall. (Or the edge of your bed.) He leaned in close, his breath fanning against your face as his eyes bore holes into yours. Then the moment he licked your face you immediately screamed and woke up. You looked at the window, it was around 4 am and the sky was just now turning blue.

You sat up straight and huffed, rubbing your cheek and you reeled when you realized it was slimy and wet. Wait, it was wet?

"Believe me now?" The same distorted voice asked. You snapped your head towards the direction of the voice. The man was now leaning against your drawer, his hat covering part of his face except for that shit eating grin.

"Please tell me I'm dreaming, or I'm going insane."

"You're not."

You only sighed and got out of your bed, slipping on your inside shoes.

"You really killed Chandler?" Your question was met with a smug nod.

"I did. Took my time as well, she was a real asshole I tell ya. But you already know that all too well don't you? want me to tell you her last words?"

"No that's... Fine." Freddy snickered at your response.

You stared out the window. "I prayed for the death of Heather Chandler many times. I felt bad many times but I kept doing it anyway. Now I know you understood everything."

He only smiled wickedly. "I hope you find more people that you hold a grudge again. I wanna see what more sick ideas you can come up with."

You groaned softly. Is this going to be a permanent thing?

"Yes, it will."

You frowned at him. Fuck, he can read your mind?

"Yes... I can." You rolled your eyes at his response. How annoying.

#freddy kruger x reader #freddy krueger x reader #freddy krueger x you #freddy krueger #nightmare on elm street #slashers x reader #slasher x reader #tw; blood #tw; gore #tw; death

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ddejavvu · 2 years

Note

hiiiii this is my first time requesting <33 I saw you’re open to writing au’s so I was wondering if you could do a dog owner!au for matt murdock where his guide dog and the reader’s dog tie them together with their leashes like that scene from the beginning in 101 dalmatians? thank you!

today is multiverse monday! send me any au you can think of :)

Technically speaking, Matt doesn't need a guide dog. His senses keep him pretty well-protected, but sometimes there's a curb he doesn't see, or a fire hydrant that he doesn't smell the chemical paint on. Even his stick has its flaws, and after the last one had gotten jammed in a gutter drain, he'd made some innovations to his life.

Said adaptation's name is Sadie. She's a sweet dog, damn good at her job, and if he had to guess, probably cute as a button. She's helped him cross one-too many silent crosswalks for him to ever doubt her skills.

Which is why he's infinitely confused when her leash catches on something. She's always aware of how it feels, when it's too tight or too loose, when it's snagged on a bush, anything that could put the strain on Matt instead of her. So when he waits for her to rearrange it and she doesn't, he stops in his tracks.

"Sadie.." He calls tentatively, "Honey, where are you?"

"Oh," he hears a voice beside him, one that he'd been too caught up in worrying to hear before, "She's checking out my dog! I hope that's okay," You worry, and Matt's chest pulses strangely at the sweet tone of your words, "She came right up to us and.. well.. you hadn't stopped her, and I didn't know-"

"It's fine," He assures you, hoping that his smile is charming, "She just doesn't usually approach anyone else. She's my seeing eye dog, and I thought she had work procedure down pretty well. But I guess dogs will be dogs, sometimes."

"She's cute," You gush, and he chuckles as he feels a wet nose against his fingertips, then a paw on his stomach, different in size to Sadie's.

"Oh, that's my boy! Sorry," You chuckle, but Matt's fingers curl against the dog's scalp to scratch at his fur, "He doesn't normally jump up at people like that."

"It's alright," He promises, feeling your dog's tail against the back of his legs as he curves around, "What kind of dog is he?"

"Oh, I'm not sure," You hum, "He's a mutt."

"Well he seems very sweet," Matt hums, feeling a tug on Sadie's leash that compels him forwards a few steps, "Oh- uh, sorry. She's a little rough for some reason."

"It's okay!" You giggle, but he feels the toes of your shoes bump against his own with another yank on Sadie's leash, "Oh- wait!"

Your hand grabs his and he latches on in a panic, his other flying to a part of your body that he hopes isn't obscene before he can identify it. He thinks it's your waist, but it's maybe more your stomach from the way it feels when you shift.

"They're- hey, stop running!" You plead, and a short bark comes from your dog that Matt laughs at.

"Are they tangling us up?" He tests out a flex of his calves, feeling leashes wound tight around the muscles there.

"I think so," You breathe, the puff of air hitting his shoulder as your voice hovers beside his face, "I'm sorry, uh..."

"Matt," He squeezes the hand of yours that he's still holding, giving it a shake, "And you are?"

"Y/N," You supply, laughing at your makeshift handshake, "Does your seeing eye dog usually tangle you up like this? That seems counter-intuitive."

"You know, I can't say she has before," He laughs, and he hears your mouth shift as you release a giggle. He imagines a smile on your face, bright and cheery, as your eyes crinkle at the corners with your laugh.

"I'll have to remind her of her training when we get home," He teases, but what he's really planning is an abundance of treats for Sadie, and a special seat of honor at the picnic he's already imaging the two of you at.

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confoundedluna · 1 month

Text

got that until dawn ps3 version quote list for y'all Finally

it is Just as stupid and ridiculous as the final version and it deserves appreciation too - this post might be longer than the other actually since this version has more chapters, we shall see, and the characters seem to talk to themselves a lot, plus I want to call out More of the dialogue since it's lesser known overall compared to the final game

again, please note these aren't in any particular order, I think they're Mostly chronological per character, I just type them as they come up in the videos and the videos are a bit odd in the way the chapters play out (one video is like. chapters 1, 4 and 5, another is 1, 6 and 7, it's just too awkward to be flipping between videos to watch everything in full order), since a lot are incomplete or need multiple builds to showcase everything they can, but I put together a playlist that was Mostly the order the chapters should be in, including different versions of each chapter in case anything changed across the different builds that I might want to take note of

also please note that some of these i typed based off how the subtitles are written and some off of how the lines are delivered - some of them switch the word order or use like a shortened version of a word or whatever, some lines have dialogue that isn't properly subtitled or has an automated voice reading them rather than an actual actor's delivery, I'm sorry if it's inconsistent but that's just how it's gonna be, i might not notice which version of the quote I used but it's basically the same thing so deal with it lmao

and like last time, let me know if i missed or skipped anything you think should be on this list! I tried to be a bit conservative with how many lines I used and go for just the funniest stand out ones or the ones that carried over, either fully or partially, to the finished game

okay enough disclaimers and apologies and shit, on to the quotes!

CHRIS

(SAM: I thought you were dead!) Well that's a fine thing to say to someone.

Wow. Safety. My mind is blown.

A-ha! And here we have the mysterious graphite spray.

It is believed that seances derive their mystical power by channeling the kinetic energy created by nude bodies... gathered as offerings to the occult, particularly those of young, teenage women. Ghosts are typically not concerned with the nude bodies of pasty young men, so if there are any ladies present, would you please remove your shirts and pants-

I'm beginning to think our friendly ghost is dyslexic.

This isn't a video game, Ash! Not everything's a clue!

There's a place in France where the ladies don't wear pants... (ASHLEY: Oh my god, how old are you?)

(ASHLEY: Look at this! Isaiah 11:6!) Is that a baseball thing? Like the signs at games? (ASHLEY: Uh, no, Chris, it's a Bible thing. You know, like a verse?) Oh, that's what those are. We should read it, right? The baseball Bible thing?

(ASHLEY: Look at this lectern, there's all sorts of animals on it.) It's like Noah's ark. Or that channel with all the animals on it.

(ASHLEY: Yep, it's all here. Fire and brimstone.) Blah blah blah, obey all my commands, blah blah blah, kill all your sons and daughters! (ASHLEY: What Bible did you read?) The cool one, duh!

Hey, I got it! See how this rotates? We could line up the animals like it says in the verse! (ASHLEY: Maybe all those hours in Sunday school paid off.) Absolutely. Not.

This just got totally Indiana Jones on us...

I know the human body has a surprising amount of blood in it, but damn.

Someone's been hunting. Guess they don't need a freezer out here.

Alright, handles all around I guess...

Holy shitballs.

I gotta say, this is not the most sensible thing I've ever done in my life.

Maybe we can find the book that the page belongs to. And find the jerk who ripped it out.

(ASHLEY: What is this, chemistry class?) I don't know about you, Ash, but I always like to leave my dangerous chemicals in a food preparation area.

Phew! See, look at that, nothing out there but the wind. (STRANGER: Sometimes the wind is not to be trusted.) Yeah well you would say that wouldn't you...

Do we just seem like slabs of meat to them? Like in old cartoons when one guy would be starving and the other guy would suddenly turn into a T-Bone steak? (STRANGER: Your thoughts wander uncomfortably far for someone walking through the dark in the W's territory…) Well that's precisely why I'd rather think about cartoons...

Brrr it's so cold out here... I guess it's better being cold than dead... though if I get any colder I might wish I was dead...

No more psychos and saw blades and crazy TV rooms and weird skinny monsters and no more snow and no more screaming hunter dudes.

(ASHLEY: How are you holding up, Chris...?) Miraculously. I mean, I'll probably collapse the second I start to think about anything that's been going on. (SAM: Then don't think about it.)

Ash... Even if Jess was down there I don't think it would be a good idea for us to climb into a mysterious hole in the wall...

We just want to get through this. Together, Ash...

ASHLEY

(SAM: Do you think Em is gonna say something about all this?) Knowing Em... she's gonna say plenty...

I tried to join chess club but I wasn't cool enough.

Cannibalism?! Who would buy a book like that? Who would even write a book on cannibalism? (CHRIS: A cannibal...?)

I don't care what it is- why does he keep doing this to us?!

This is our fault... we can't save him, it's our fault!

Not cool. Not cool.

Where does an elevator even go down here?

Bats... I mean, how in the heck are bats down here?

'A week in the mountains' he said, 'we'll get drunk, it'll be fun'...

Ohhh, I hate creepy noises!

They're crazy if they think they're going to find Josh and the stupid key... (SAM: Emily seemed to think she had a pretty good idea of where to look...) Yeah but she's Emily, Sam! When does she ever do anything that isn't some sort of weird selfish game- (SAM: Em seemed pretty shaken up, Ash, she's just trying to help-) She's trying to get us killed. We're all going to die up here. All of us.

(SAM: Just keep going, Ash, just keep going. It's right ahead of us.) It so does not feel like it's right ahead of us.

You've seen Mike with a gun, he seems pretty confident...

Well Sam, there doesn't gotta be another way- I mean we can hope there's another way...

(SAM: Pull it open!) I'm trying! What are you doing?! Don't hurt yourself not helping!

SAM

Ah-yep... limbs are still working.

Bim bam boom! There, fixed it for you.

That was hellacious.

She's usually pretty cool. Seems more like she's nursing a massive crush. (CHRIS: You mean Mike?) Ummm... yeah? Come on, she's sitting out there like a little lost puppy waiting for him.

Is she really being that big of a bitch to him?

(CHRIS: Wicked Witch of the West.) Right? I wish someone would drop a house on her. (CHRIS: That was the Wicked Witch of the East.) Did you seriously just correct me on that?

I can't believe Emily is hooking up with Matt. Didn't really expect her to go full meathead after breaking up with Michael.

Hey, did you get the sense that Jess and Mike are gonna have a uh... 'political summit' on this trip...?

Josh... having a little trouble getting the key into the hole?

(JOSH: I know Sam... I'm sorry... my fingers feel like they're gonna break off...) Do you want me to warm your fingers up so you can get the lock open?

Hello...? Hey guys, is that you? What are you guys doing? Being creepy...?

Hey?! I'm getting a little creeped out here fellas...

Someone help me, I'm stuck in here with a maniac!

I guess Josh needs kind of like a 'time-out' after what he did to us, but...

Okay. That does it. Door is locked. Nothing in or out.

Are you crazy? Or just stupid? You go out there and you're dead. In here we can at least wait- (MIKE: Until what? Come on, Sam.) Until dawn.

(EMILY: How did you find us?) You were making a total ruckus. Emily, I'm not sure you got the memo about the stealth mission.

Perfect. A giant hole.

(EMILY: Be careful...) As opposed to...?

(EMILY: You having a good time up there, Sam?) It's a god damn party.

Don't scream- don't scream- don't scream- (EMILY: I can't help it, I can't-)

Empty. Could have been one of us in there...

Okay Mister Elevator, let's see what we're working with here...

Wow. Now that's more like it. This is baaaaaadass.

Come on already, where is that fricking code?

Come on girl. You'd look good with that in your hands. Don't be shy.

Hey... bout time I found the Big Boy firepower.

I am so done with this place.

Get me outta here. Gotta find the cable car.

Get me out of here. Just get me to the first floor.

I just want to be on the ground, not up here.

Stairs? Ladder? Elevator? Escalator? Just need to get down to the ground floor.

I need out. Find my way to the cable car.

Gotta find the ground floor.

You guys look starved. Let me just fire up the grill.

MIKE

All ye who enter must pay the toll! Take off your pants!

(CHRIS: Maybe I can get a signal long enough to download a manual for one of these things.) ...Nerd alert, amirite?

(CHRIS: Nature calls.) Did you give her my number?

You throw like a- (JESS: Don't say it!) Was just gonna say you throw like a- (JESS: Don't!) ...throw like a beautiful, enchanting woman!

Awww! That's one to show the grandkids, right? (JESS: Don't get ahead of yourself, mister.) I wouldn't dream of it.

You wanna hear a joke? (JESS: Sure! I love to laugh.) Okay. So, how many librarians does it take to screw in a lightbulb? (JESS: Dunno, how m-) Shhh!!! (JESS: Really? Ugh.)

(JESS: Goddamn batteries! Shake it, that usually helps! Awesome!) Shake-powered batteries? Who knew.

I wonder what's down there. Ah, I bet it's just a bunch of pickaxes and old cart tracks and miner bones and ghosts of miners, and miner curses and... Woah. Get a grip dude. Class President.

Look at that. (JESS: What're all those symbols?) I think they're ancient. (JESS: Ancient what?) Ancient symbols. (JESS: Such insight...)

I'm not super thrilled at the idea of bears hanging around and crashing our party.

Looks like the path is a little blocked up. (JESS: What do you mean?) Well, it's got all this... tree in the way.

Where'd you go? Jessica? You've got at least five good minutes left until I bring out the waterworks.

This looks like the work of a bear. I do not like the way bears work.

Jess, hon? I promise I totally won't murder you when I find you. Maybe just a little.

So cold out here, but I'm sweating! Is that normal?

(JESS: You're trying to just freak me out, aren't you?) What? Why? (JESS: To get in my pants.) Yes, I would like to scare the pants off you.

So... One time I jumped over a crazy deep ravine on my bike. All the kids from the neighbourhood came out. Some local news too. Everyone thought I wasn't going to make it. (JESS: But you did?) Nope. Totally died. Been dead six years now. (JESS: You're lying.) Am I, though? (JESS: ...yes? ... Right?) There's only one way to find out...!

We're all alone in here, babe. Just you and me... the Presidential suite. (JESS: Well, Mr President, the lights don't work. And I'm freezing!)

Someone really doesn't like things to stay in one piece around here. Why would someone tear this up?

My jaw's chiselled enough already, but still, it could be useful.

Well, I've found the killer bathtub. Jesus, what did I think would be in there?

Woah. Check out the crazy sex book they have up here.

What is this? Ms. Dunkle's tenth grade science project?

Well, we're here now, so we might as well make use of the amenities. (JESS: Like the bed?) Yeah, I'm thinking mostly the bed.

Alright, madame, is there anything else that you require, or shall I retire to my quarters? (JESS: You're not going anywhere.) Madame requires additional services? (JESS: I can think of a few.)

Huh. Turns out our monster is just a broken branch. Guess it must have seen us and gotten jealous.

(JESS: Finally I have your attention.) The Vice President is standing by. (JESS: Well, why don't you bring him into the Oval Office?) Let's sign this bill into law!

Gotta stay calm. Focused. Get out of this rotten pit.

Crap, what are you doing Mikey, what's wrong with you... this asshole killed Jess... he should pay for that... but nobody's gonna pay for anything unless you get out of here in one piece, buddy...

Stay cool, Mikey. Stay cool.

(groans) Unngh… Either I'm getting weaker or doors are getting heavier…

Come on Sir Mike. Don't be such a wimp. Think about Jessica.

He could be waiting for me… it would be wise for me to tread lightly in the lion's den.

Just stay on your guard Potus… Stay alert…

Let's go, Mikey, let's go.

Gravity's my co-pilot on this one.

Aww… god… smells like something died in here, came back to life, ate its own corpse and then threw it all up…

Well well well. Here we are again. Sometimes wandering around in circles ain't so bad.

This is the creepiest rehearsal space I've ever seen.

Alright, keep your head Mr. President. Calm under pressure…

Ah great, another scenic wing of 'le castle de dilapitacion'.

Alright… look at that. Now we're getting somewhere. Don't know where, but somewhere.

Births and deaths, 1905. Some light bedtime reading for when we get through this.

Man, I can't even skip lunch without becoming a hungry monster, how did these guys feel over 23 days. Wait, no, i don't want to think about it.

Hey! Proper old school photo. Ain't that many left that roll with this kind of geddup anymore.

Chris was killed right in front of us, Jack the monster hunter was torn to pieces and now we're just waiting around like sitting ducks? No. We have to get off the mountain. Now.

Boom! For the win.

(EMILY: Ugh. I hate this place.) Admittedly, they have let it go... (EMILY: Yeah, they haven't dusted in years down here...)

Ah, seems like patient number four was suffering from a bout of being too extraordinary.

I'll tell you what. If the patients weren't completely nuts when they checked in, this place would drive them crazy.

(EMILY: Alright, so how are we gonna get out of here?) Scream and cry like girls?

Pe-culiar? That's actually like a for real medical term? Must have been Charlie Cheswick's records.

I wonder how far your gums have to recede before they start measuring them. If I'm reading this right, this guy must have looked like a dollar store Halloween mask. Wouldn't want to meet these chompers in a dark alley. Or terrifying sanitorium.

If wishes were horses beggars would be cowboys. (CHRIS: Woah. You did not just say that.) That guy Jack had some pretty catchy phrases don't you think?

EMILY

(CHRIS: We just saw Jessica, down by the cable car.) Ugh. Any more perfume on that B and you'd think she was a bachelorette party.

My lips are already so chapped. (MATT: I can kiss them and make them better.) In your dreams Loverboy.

Oh my god, are you gonna swallow his face whole? We're all here! How much more of your crap can we take?

Listen you little slut, maybe because I am not on crack I can see what you're doing.

I don't have to spy when clearly you're showing off with your tongue halfway down his throat.

(JESS: You heard what I said.) Why don't you say it again to my face you bitch?

You do whatever you want. If there's a crazy murderer running around then I'm going to get the hell out of here. (MATT: Maybe he's right, Em-) Do you want me to go out there all alone, Matt? Because I will.

We'll take the cable car to go get help, dummy. Come on.

This is totally crazy Matt. This is totally crazy. My head is spinning.

Ugh. It's freezing out here. I did not pack for this.

I wish Chris and Ashley were more helpful. (MATT: Em, you hardly gave them a chance-) You know, I'm just trying to help the situation.

I just can't believe it's happened again! I mean like, is this family cursed? (MATT: Yeah the whole mountain feels cursed.)

Okay, you done good Matt. Took you a while, but you done good.

Look, if you're not gonna call for help, then maybe you should at least get some tunes going for us to listen to while we sit here and freeze to death can you please just get the radio working Matt oh my god oh my god!

Oh my God, stop talking like you're in a movie. Are you pushing the right button? Is there even a signal?

Wow. These clothes are all torn up. And I don't think it's because they were ripped off the sale rack in a shopping spree…

Ugh. Why do these machines always have to be so complicated?!

Ahhh! Jesus… them's the brakes.

Oh come on batteries… stick with me just a little longer…

Ugh… are those… bite marks on the bones? As in like… eating marks?

This is hell. That's all there is to it. Hell. I fell into hell and there are devils wandering around who will poke me with their forks.

Okay, keep quiet, Em. Put a lid on it. Don't want to attract attention...

Juuuust stay quiet... What would Princess Emilia do? I'll tell you what she'd do: she would stay quiet. Shhhh.

Wow. Good thing I checked my claustrophobia at the door. This is gonna be tight. I guess it's either through this little hole or turn around and face Mr Sunshine out there. Hmm. Excellent options!

I gotta try it. Nothing ventured, nothing gained, right Miss A-student beauty queen and all around hottie?

Bingo! Done. Voila. QED. Hee haw. Locked and loaded. That is how we roll. You go girl. Aaaaannnnd... Cut it. Print it. Saved. Vamos!

Top...! It's the top! Mine top... tip top top of the mine...! No more shaft just... this place! I'm out of the mine! ...Back to the lodge! Back to the fires and warmth and friends! Oh little lodge, I missed you so much... how do I get out of here?

(MIKE: You locking us in?) I'm locking the baddies out. Can't be too careful. (MIKE: Glad you're sure the baddies are out there and not in here.) Feels good to lock a door...

(MIKE: Wow. I guess I totalled the place huh?) Mikey had a tantrum? (MIKE: When I commit to something, I like to do a thorough job.) Hmmmm. Don't remember you making heaven and earth move for me... (MIKE: Hey. Don't say that...) I'm kidding... You did okay... (MIKE: ...that's better...) ...considering the tool you have to work with... (MIKE: Easy! Easy!)

This whole wing just feels like it was for the real head cases. Right? Like the lost causes. (MIKE: Yeah. It's got a really pleasant vibe in here. Let's keep moving.)

Ew. Ew! His gums were receding?! Didn't he floss?! Some people just do not understand the importance of dental hygiene.

One order of W pâté, comin' up!

Wow, Sam, you're really getting all Rambo on us.

(SAM: Look. The machinery. If we can get those metal containers in a row... we can get across.) You're kidding, right? On those rusty... rust buckets out there?

(SAM: You got it! It's working!) That's right, 'cause I'm the mecha-master! (SAM: Now if we get them lined up... We can just hop right across!) Already on it, Rambo. Or should I say... Sam-bo. (SAM: Ah... no... I don't think you should say that.)

An elevator...! Probably broken. Why is everything on this goddamned mountain falling apart!

(SAM: Looks like we've got find a way across.) Score one for Captain Obvious.

(SAM: We've got one shot to get out of here and we can't screw it up.) Right back at ya, lady.

JESSICA

(CHRIS: What's Mike doing?) He's getting all of our stuff to the lodge. Nails. Just had 'em done.

(SAM: We can help you with the stuff.) Oh that's so nice! But... I kinda like it when Mike does it.

Ugh, finally we're out of that stupid wind. I was freezing my buns off out there. (MIKE: I can help you with those if you like...!)

(MATT: Come on Em, relax.) No, it's not okay Matt. That bitch is on crack or something.

Whatever. I don't have time for jealous bitches.

Fine. Whatever. Anything to get away from that whore. (EMILY: Are you kidding me? I'm the whore?)

Ugh, you know, I can't believe Emily sometimes... why is she such a royal B? How could you have ever gone out with someone like that?

(MIKE: Exiled.) More like sex-iled.

Come on troops, move out.

I wonder if they have any room service up at the cabin. I could so use a triple grande mocha cappuccino right now.

You lit up my night... Now all we need are some fireworks later...

How bout some jams? (MIKE: Whatever puts you in the mood.) This one might be my favourite... Until their next one comes out, then that'll probably be my favourite. (MIKE: That's a really good way of thinking about it.) Thanks! ... ...what?

(MIKE: Josh seemed pretty happy to get rid of us back there, didn't he?) Michael! I had no idea you had such a gossipy side... Is this the politician in you? (MIKE: Politician nothing; the guy's a dick!) Hmm.

I keep having this great thought, but then I keep forgetting it.

Somebody's going to owe me a new outfit.

(MIKE: I didn't know Hannah wore glasses.) Yeah. Just when she wasn't around any cute boys.

I wonder if they deliver take out up here. I mean right here.

Ugh. My shoes are getting so moist.

I wonder what's going on back at the lodge. Everybody's probably doin' it.

Nature's kinda gross.

Is that Orion's belt or is he just happy to see me?

Hah! I'm totally going to tell everyone about your fear of birdies.

Stand back, Debbie downer.

Don't worry, I'll save Woodsgate for the next election.

(MIKE: Some of these planks are pretty rickety.) You know what else is rickety? (MIKE: What?) Your face is rickety. (MIKE: That's a really good one!) Thank you!

(MIKE: Watch your step, Jess.) You know what? You're worse than my mom. My mom!

Boom! Sting like a butterfly and float like a bee.

Wow, look at that old photo. (MIKE: Must be an old mining team.) Looks like they really knew how to... handle themselves. (MIKE: Sounds like you wish you could handle them.) Looks really old. I wonder if they're all dead now. Ugh! So creepy!

(MIKE: Probably faulty wiring or something.) You've got faulty wiring.

Unless you want to make out with an ice sculpture, I suggest you get a fire going. Pronto.

It's so cold in here right now my tongue would get stuck to your flagpole.

I'm cold, I'm bored, and I'm getting rapidly less horny. You want to hurry it up with the fire?

(MIKE: It's so dusty.) No maid service up here? What a rip.

Coldness generally isn't conducive to hotness, Michael... Woah. That sounded, like, deep.

While you were trying to find the right button to push, I found some de-light-ful candles that wonderfully spice up the place and light up all the nooks and crannies... Far more cosy and accommodating, don't you think?

I can't lose my phone, my parents are gonna kill me! (MIKE: You can always get a new one!) That's like my fourth one this year.

Just unfasten it! (MIKE: I can get it! I can get it!) Don't send a man to do a woman's job.

Oh. Those perverted assholes. Why can't they just leave us alone and let us have a perfectly nice time? God! What jerks! (MIKE: Hey, they're just trying to have a good time.) Yeah? Well, so are we!

You guys are such dicks! Are you really that upset with me and Michael that you want to ruin our fun? Huh? Well, guess what? You can't ruin it! Because Michael and I are gonna screw! That's right! We're gonna have sex! And it's gonna be hot! So enjoy it! 'Cause I know we're going to! Ugh.

MATT

Ohhhh! She just got Emily'd!

Wow. Someone had a good time in here.

Why would someone leave a picture of keys where the keys should be?

This place can't just be a huge death trap, right? Cable car can't be the only way in and out of this joint.

Josh had a lot of problems... I think he just wanted to be able to sort things out... and put this all behind us...

So the joke I learned, it's really good, it's about like, a dude, who's got a haircut like the moon, and-

Coyote? Bear? ... Why is that okay?

C'mon, Matt... You don't wanna die down here.

The hell is that… Jessica? (JESS: Matt? Jesus… So it got you too.) Yeah… You okay? (JESS: Hardly...) Let's get the hell out of this place. Look! There! (JESS: Light!) That's the cable car station!

Come on, man... nearly there... nearly there...

JOSH/THE PSYCHO

Come on, lock... My lockpick skills are a little rusty...

This is the most boring break-in ever. You haven't even broken in yet.

Hey! Grit bin! Nice work moving that over here!

Everything all right in there? (CHRIS: Yeah, I'm fine. It's really dirty. And a little freaky.) Sounds like my kind of date! (CHRIS: Offf course it does.)

Dude, come on! Let's open this jawn!

Ahh-hahaha! Dude are you okay? That lil' wolverine almost gave you a paper cut!

(SAM: Hey, those things are known to be vicious sometimes.) Vicious to lil' babies. Lil' Chrissy babies.

(SAM: Thank you Chris.) Thaaaank you Chriiiiis.

Yo! Explorers! You guys are gonna need the keys for the love shack!

As you can see, your friend Josh is now in quite an unfortunate situation. If you wish to see him dead, then do nothing and you may watch him die.

Second... clue... picture if you will... high atop a powdery mountain... the only place possible for a jacked up jock like Matthew to score a... 'big break'...

If you'll please now direct your attention towards the main attraction...

Not much time left before your friend is... perforated...

Congratulations! You've just bought yourself... more time... to watch your friend die...

My my my, didn't you do well! You fought the system and you've won. And what you've won is a prize! You're a lucky winner, come on down!

Well, that's the end, folks. I only wish it could have turned out differently, but, unfortunately, I'm still going to kill your friend because, hey - winners don't play by the rules!

Allow me to introduce myself, I am your host!

Oh, I had fun with them... and now I'll have fun with you... There's nothing wrong with having a little fun, is there?

Samantha, my darling, I don't think your friends are going to help you... I've already had a little fun with them...

Oh what a delight it was watching his life drain away. I wonder if watching yours will be just as fun.

(SAM: What do you want?) I just want a little fun, Sam... so why don't we... mix things up a little... You can have ten seconds to pretend like you're escaping... and then you're dead!

Go on, hide if you like... I know just where you are.

(CHRIS: What do you want from us?!) Well now, Mr Chris... I think you've got the answer right there in front of you.

Oh borrring... You think I didn't bulletproof my machinery?

(CHRIS: You're sick!) Heh heh heh... why thank you, kind sir... but the choice... is yours... play ball!

I'm sorry... so sorry... it's all my fault...

THE STRANGER

It would be wise for you to hear me out.

You seem to listen but not to hear.

You have no chance out there on your own- (CHRIS: I'll just have to take my chances.) Then I'll go with you. Alone would be suicide. (CHRIS: Yeah well you're so special.) I am... experienced.

You do not seem too concerned with saving the life of your friend.

(CHRIS: Have you done this before?) Have I foolishly attempted to free a dead man in the hopes of becoming one myself? (CHRIS: Uh...) You ask questions that are not very useful. (CHRIS: My teachers say the same thing. But yeah, so, have you?) This is not my first barbecue.

He who seeks avoidance finds out what he seeks to avoid. (CHRIS: That's... a really confusing saying.)

#until dawn #until dawn beta #until dawn ps3 #until dawn quotes #more appreciation is needed for the beta version of the game #it's just as silly as the final product #so i hope y'all enjoy this compilation lmao #had this one sitting on the backburner for a While #i got real far into a first version of it and then the draft didn't save properly and i lost an amount of progress that i couldn't figure o #-t so i would have to start it entirely again which was very discouraging #since i was already a good third of the way through #but i finally committed to getting it done and dusted #this ended up long as shit but i finally did it

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luesmainblog · 2 years

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With those manscaped ads going around again, here is a reminder to my penis-having friends out there: Do not put anything scented on your junk. I’m serious. It sounds harmless, especially since you have a closed sexual system, but it can genuinely be a very dangerous thing to be doing for a number of reasons. 1. You never know if you’re allergic to a product until you use it. Do you REALLY want to find out you’re allergic to some super specific scent oil mix because you put it on your nuts? 2. Whatever is on your balls will end up rubbing onto your underwear, and as you move throughout the day, it will inevitably make its way to your urethra. It may only be a little bit, but if your urinary track is sensitive enough, that can lead straight to a UTI. Believe me, those are incredibly not fun. 3. But let’s say you only wear it during naked times. Totally fine, right? Nope; you’re STILL at a risk for a UTI because of how scent actually works. When you smell something, it’s because there are particles of that thing in the air, and those particles make it into your nose and your nose essentially “tastes” those particles. Now, for most stuff, that’s fine. However, those tiny particles - when there’s enough of them - can still make their way into your urethra over time if they’re close enough, and once again, that can lead to an infection because there is a foreign matter in your pee hole that doesn’t belong there. (this is the reason so many vages end up with UTIs when using scented pads, when normal pads don’t do anything to them. it’s the scent particles.) 4. This product is given to you alongside masculine grooming items, and if you think it’s difficult to shave your knees, you’re about to learn the fear of god the first time you try to shave your nuts. this goes double for especially wrinkly folks. Now, shaving is entirely your choice, but imagine getting deodorant in a bleeding nick on your NUTS. can you say Ow? and god forbid that thing get infected because you introduced a foreign entity your body didn’t like. I don’t think anyone wants infected balls. 5. The following can also apply to any partner you may have if you’ve freshly put it on, or if you’ve been wearing it around all day in a pair of underwear or pants(again, that stuff’s gonna end up rubbing onto the rest of you). So even if YOU’RE not allergic, or sensitive to UTIs, your other half might not want to suddenly get hives in her vag, or a sudden yeast infection, or a frot-induced UTI because you got yourself all deodoranted up before funtimes. none of this even gets into the possibility of irritation, the risk of spraying on one spot for too long(chemical burns on your balls, bro, never fun), the fact that scents could end up masking a change in your scent that would normally alert you to go see a doctor, there are MULTIPLE reasons to consider whether or not you REALLY need to put deodorant down there. I don’t know if this post will blaze, as the message is inherently nsfw, but I sincerely hope it will. You shouldn’t use ball deodorant for the same reasons you shouldn’t use scented pads, and you ESPECIALLY should not be putting a scented SPRAY anywhere near your pee hole. obviously this is all a personal risk thing, some people will be able to go 15 years perfuming the hell out of their sack and never face a problem, but it genuinely worries me that this is being advertised as totally normal, sexy, and risk-free. I just want the public to be informed; y’all might not be as used to the ways beauty companies will lie and hurt you for a quick buck. Be safe out there, and please, take good care of your sack.

#PSA #manscaped #manscaped ad #ball deodorant #manscaped ball deodorant #this psa does apply to those who plan to remove their balls at a later date - you don't want an infection drawing even more attention there.#full disclosure i'm not a doctor #i'm just someone who has had and seen some BAD reactions to scented products in the no no zones and wants to protect others from it.

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melodiousmonsters · 1 year

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Finally these things are done, pushed them off for a while and regretted it, but they're done now and I practically have the whole month ahead of me to work on this month's stuff. Anyway grumpyres. Again because I remembered to put them here stuff in italics and parentheses are author's notes and not an in universe statement.

"Ferrara hemecome average around 4ft/1.2m in average diameter with a 14ft/4.2m wingspan with the largest pair of wings. Their eye color is always blood red as there’s no pigment in them, their pupils vary from round to slit. They have microscopic scales on their wings that come off when flapped that cause a black sooty dust to surround them as they fly.

Grumpyre get most of their energy from blood, with some of their nutrients coming from small critters as a small yet important part of their diets. To feed and hunt they smell the air for the sent of living things (it’s CO2, but the monsters don’t know what chemicals are because they haven’t invented a way to detect them yet) with both their (non-existent) noses and scent receptors on the back half of their tongues, often making a weird face while doing so, well, they make weird faces all the time actually. When they lock onto a scent they follow it and determine what to do next depending on what they find. If it’s a small critter they either eat it or ignore it. If it’s a large critter like the marsh elk of the shadow lands they will follow it to its resting spot and wait for it to fall asleep. Once it sleeps they sneak up to the critter and tear a large gash into it with their snaggled teeth and lap up the blood. The wound is most often not dangerous to the critters they feed from and they can usually go about their day after the grumpyre feed. Sometimes it may get infected but that’s not the grumpyre’s fault, making them the most ethical carnivores of the monsters.

Grumpyre sleep in crevices to protect themselves from predation. To navigate tight areas where they can’t fly their sharp talons are used to clamber around caves, hollow logs, etc. They will then crawl up to the highest most out of reach area to sleep as some of their predators are quite tall and may be able to pluck them off the wall if they sleep too low. They wrap themselves up with their wings for warmth as they tend to run at a very low body temperature but prefer to be warmer to sleep.

The holes in their wings that are commonly seen are a result of parasitism. There’s a species of moths that eat holes in grumpyre’s wings called shade-cave moths as they are after the elasticin fibers that allow for their wings to stretch in flight. It has been theorized grumpyre sleep with their wings wrapped around them to minimize the amount of areas the moths can get to.

Something they are falsely known for is having reversed emotions. Instead of having that they have unique expressions that don’t really look like any known emotion. Each grumpyre has a different set of emotions unique to it. But sometimes a parent and a child grumpyre may have the same face for the same feeling."

Varients

(F. hemecome rectadens) Jyacob’s grumpyre(Named after the Jacob's sheep)"Jyacob was just one of my friends from back in the day, they were a Flum Ox, I miss them. One of the downsides to being suspended in time is that you outlast everyone else you know. Anyways, it had some impressive horns like these grumpyre, so I decided to name them after it (I asked some of the grumpyres, they were fine with me memorializing my friend with their sub-species' common name). Their eyes are always slit and they have green to blue irises that take up the entirety of their visible eye. They also have six wings which makes them more agile fliers, necessary to keep their horns from bumping into things.

A less noticeable but important trait to them is that they have straight teeth, unlike the janky ones the commons have. This makes them a little bit worse at tearing open as many blood vessels as possible so they rely much more on small prey than blood from larger critters."

(F. hemecome alabaster) Albino grumpyre: These grumpyre are what happens when albinism affects a grumpyre, the rest of the unique traits seem to be attached to whatever causes albinism in monsters (Guess what, this guy is so wrong. Albino grumpyre aren’t albino as they have pigmented eyes. Monsters don’t know that genes do anything or even exist so they have no idea what they are talking about). Instead of relying on scent to get fed they use their massive ears to hear for breathing, they are hypersensitive to the sound of breathing and can detect it from a mile away. They also don’t have those janky teeth but instead they have hollow front teeth they sink into a blood vessel and then just drink up the blood through them like a really weird straw.

They also don’t have enough fur to protect them from the sun, causing them to constantly have to regenerate damaged skin causing weird growths. Eventually even the growths fall off leaving dents, but they do have an increased ability to repair their skin so the dents only last a few days."

"Grumpyre live in mostly dark and wet places, so the shadow lands of the pocket dimension. Their cryptic spotting and dark colors allow for perfect camouflage in the dim dark woods. They are middle-of-the-food-chain carnivores similar to cats, which also call the shadow lands home; it seems the marshes breed those types of beasts.

Grumpyre may live in social groups or alone, a group of grumpyre is called a colony or a flock. These inconsistent social preferences are simply because of the way shadow monsters are, they are very unique compared to other monsters and even to each other in some cases. Some love being around others and some can’t stand it. The ones that aren’t opposed to living in a group will often sleep in large groups with some clusters of grumpyre that find comfort in physical contact while some will be on their own."

(A quick drawing of a grumpyre chick I did because I want to ease into drawing baby monsters for these)"Grumpyre eggs will hatch pretty much anywhere, very hardy. Grumpyre chicks are as unique as the adults can turn out. Some may start doing things very early, some will seem to be on developmental track and then regress, some will take longer. They start out with one pair of wings then grow the rest over the course of their development. Older grumpyre tend to get shaggier fur on the bottom half of their bodies."

A fun note I didn't know where to include is that grumpyre can't taste sugar, some animals in real life can't taste it like cats, and grumpyre are based on them so they can't taste sugar.

#my singing monsters #art #beezleart #melodious monster chronicles #grumpyre

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peterthreee · 3 days

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puts my hands out for fic snippet :-3

parksborn spider-pals fic? (because we got ONE mission of them hero-ing together and im having withdrawals)

putting it under a cut because its a long chunk! and idk how out of context it is but i hope i can build some sort of hype. if u want more, ask. its long. also- can yall lmk if u want the chapter by itself one at a time or if u can wait until i finish all three? im burdened by impatience and very excited

It’s nice out.

The sun is shining, peeking through and occasionally dipping behind passing clouds, before reemerging to speckle the sidewalk with blobs of light. A cool breeze dances between the buildings lining the street Harry's been sauntering through, bouncing off brick walls and tousling his hair, the loose pieces tickling the tips of his ears.

He smiles, silly as it is, relishing in the strange weight of a full head of hair after losing half of it to illness driven malnutrition. A result of his once plummeted appetite that left his cheeks grey and gaunt- cheeks that now puff to the sides in a stupid grin. That, paired with having hair clean enough to rake his fingers through it without cringing, when before, washing it became an ordeal that zapped what little energy he had left, and happened less frequently as a consequence. Harry beams in appreciation of it all.

He doesn't spend much time in Harlem, nor does he know his way around, but coffee's coffee. Even decaf. Too many disapproving sighs from Connors have steered Harry clear of the real deal, but it's not as though he needs the energy anymore. Screw caffeine. A fire-proof suit with inexhaustible stamina that doesn't leave you crashing face down on the couch at the end of the day? That'll put anyone off any chemical competitors.

Though, both seem to cause headaches. Duly noted.

The coffee isn't even good. Harry swishes the watery beverage around his tongue, twisting his lips to savor the unimpressive quality and bland taste. He's had better. He's had the best, and yet, not a single luxury roast could touch the warmth pouring into his chest with every sip.

After years of isolation- save for the occasional nurse popping their head into his bedroom- shakily downing a flavorless, anti-inflammatory diet while blinking vacantly at the same four walls, Harry finds easy sweetness in the bitter. From a man once spoiled blind by the riches of life, he now finds himself humbled, holding every moment- no matter the size or severity- close to his heart with gentle hands.

The coffee sucks, and it's the best thing he's ever tasted.

Okay, maybe he's sauntering through neighborhoods that his father would scoff at for reasons unrelated to stretching his legs for a cheap cup of cream and sugar. Harry's bored. Out of his goddamn fractured mind, bored. And, word on the street is- or in Harry's case, his phone that's open to the latest news story, buffering with how often he refreshes the page- Spider-Man's been hopping Harlem rooftops full of Hunters all morning. Harry takes a sip of coffee, scrunches his nose, then tugs the page down once more for good measure.

Peter never rang him. Which, sure, that's fine. He did fumble numerous times his first day on the job, jumping in with perhaps too enthusiastic of an approach to his debut in superhero-ing. How could he not? After a year spent bound to a hospital bed, every minute Harry doesn't put his body to good use leaves the fire inside him to smolder, and his skin itches with anticipation.

Discovering the true extent of his "treatment" has only exacerbated this feeling ten-fold. Why rest when you can run through an active furnace and come out unscathed? Lift a broken roller coaster track over your head without breaking a sweat? Keep up with Spider-Man?

So Harry's walking. He's been walking for quite a while, watching the sun crawl up the sky until it bakes the early autumn morning chill from the air, and making the most of something mundane he previously took for granted. Something he'd never take for granted again. The past few years definitely put a lot into perspective, and Harry's learned to appreciate it all. Things such as walking or otherwise.

He basks in the sun that previously blinded his sensitive eyes from behind black-out curtains. He bounds off the sidewalk in long strides that no longer wind him with stabbing chest pain. And he bites down the giddy smile fighting to overtake his face at the prospect of regaining the freedom he once ached for.

So he's walking, with a particular pep to his every step, leisurely window shopping- which in actuality is just steadily eyeing the glass to scan its reflection for a chance to catch a certain spider swinging by.

Following the trail of vague leads in blurry photos posted to a fan account online, Harry's managed to triangulate the general area this classified Hunter-hunting mission is being carried out in. Though, it took going the wrong way twice, then caving and asking a sign spinner for directions. It's proven quite difficult to pinpoint a location based solely on its surrounding architecture rather than a street number, and Harry's got the search history to prove it.

He squints down at the glare obstructing his phone screen, then up at a building down the street. The detailing on the brick looks similar enough. He checks again.

Peter dodged three of his calls. After an entire morning of radio silence, Harry eventually took it into his own antsy hands to get in on the action, but Spider-Man is a master at dodging phone calls, and evidently against second chances. Or maybe just persistent interruptions during life-threatening situations. Most likely the latter, Harry thinks.

If opportunity doesn't knock, build a door.

Much to his frustration, every single call had gone straight to voicemail, barely given a second to ring, and even though Harry knows why, that knowledge has done nothing to placate him. That, and the lame joke of a voicemail he's been met with one too many times in the last hour.

"Sorry I missed your call! Make like a tree and leave a message, hah-"

Coming to a stop before a crosswalk, Harry drags his thumb down his phone's screen, refreshing the news articles one last time, only to be taunted by a perpetually spinning throbber. The trail's dried up it seems. Horn blaring and wheels rumbling, a train barrels through on its tracks above him, the grading noise aching through his ears and chest, and he sighs, taking another sip of coffee.

A strong gust of wind blows past, hard enough for Harry to stumble into a man standing next to him, nearly bringing the both of them into the busy street. Pushing off the guy and muttering a slew of rapid apologies, Harry squints up at the blinding sky for whatever enigma of ornithology was large enough to topple a whole row of pedestrians.

The gathering crowd surrounding his little mishap is starting to chatter, and it takes a few blinks to realize they aren't staring at him, they're staring at the sky, and the chatter splits into excited cheers and disgruntled shouts, a few phones now pointing upwards. Head whipping up and around, he sees it. A smear of red and blue.

"Missed my train, comin' through!"

And he's running.

#spiderman #my fic #spiderman ps5 #insomniac spiderman #peter parker #harry osborn #insomniac peter parker #insomniac harry osborn #parksborn #gameverse

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alexanderwales · 3 months

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TV Review: Dark Matter

This should be a short review, because it's a show that I felt was pretty short on ideas.

Spoilers follow.

Dark Matter is another Apple TV scifi show, and so far as I'm concerned, Apple TV has had a really good track record for scifi. Severance was one of my favorite shows of whatever year it came out, I thought they did Silo justice, and while For All Mankind has its warts, I have been happy to watch it.

Dark Matter is a multiverse show, and the multiverse is a difficult concept to work with, especially if you're taking it to its logical extremes where there are infinitely many universes. The show is based on a book by Blake Crouch, which I haven't read, and don't plan to.

Most of the plot revolves around a professor of physics, his wife and son, and the alternate version of him who takes over his life. It felt like it took way too long for the basic premise to be revealed, but there it is. Early on, Jason1 got removed from his own universe by Jason2 and placed into Jason2's original universe, sort of a Prince and the Pauper situation. In Jason2's universe, they have created "The Box" which, with a brain chemical, can put a person into a state of "superposition" that allows them to travel an infinite hallway to find other Earths that are always geographically identical but might vary wildly from each other. If the first episode is almost pure setup, then episodes two through seven are 1) Jason1 discovering what happened to him and 2) Jason2 trying and failing to slip into the life he thought he wanted.

Here's one thing I wanted to start with: it makes zero fucking sense that Jason2 would put Jason1 into Jason2's original universe. He obviously could have killed Jason1 and then dumped the body in one of the alternate universes, but he could also just as easily have dumped Jason1 anywhere else. In fact, he does this later on to a different character. If there's a justification, which I think there isn't, it's that Jason2 is not really a killer, and really did feel bad about taking over his alternate's life, and then ... I don't know, wanted them to do a swap, I guess, rather than putting Jason1 in a place where he would thrive.

The whole plot hinges on this decision, but I'm willing to move past it, even as dumb as I think it is.

The reason I love speculative fiction is that it gets to swing for the fences and set up all kinds of scenarios that make metaphors or thought experiments into realities. I have always been a sucker for time travel stories, and branching timelines aren't quite that, but they're close. The thing that this show is most interested in exploring, for most of its run, is "what would it be like for this character to have made a different choice". The choice in question is leaving his then-girlfriend Daniella when she discovered she was pregnant, and this is the main thing that separated the two Jasons: in Jason1's universe, he has a wife and a teenage son, and in Jason2's universe, he builds The Box after some investment from a side character who was really unimportant for how much screentime he got (setting up for a season 2 that almost certainly will not happen unless this show is way more popular than it has any right to be).

As the core of the show, this difference between Jasons is ... fine. It's a very middle-aged sort of question, and a very particular sort of question, since I have to believe that not a lot of people ever had to choose between a successful career as an engineer working on quantum physics or a job as a professor. But there's something about "the one that got away" and "the road not taken" that resonates even with some of the plot beats being a bit meh.

For a show that's including the entire multiverse though, it sure does seem to be shy about showing us other Jasons who had even more different life paths. Jason1 ends up visiting a lot of worlds while trying to get home, and there's not a lot of interaction with other versions of himself. I wanted to see him in different professions, married to different people, with different children. I wanted them to take the "road not taken" inquiries to their logical conclusions. If it's the full multiverse, then there have got to be truly miserable and truly exceptional Jasons, and come on it, it's a character study, you can show us new and interesting things about the character.

The most egregious of these was when he went to a universe where that Jason had gone to prison and his wife was afraid of him, and they don't even tell us what he went to prison for. Come on! This is the bread and butter of an alternate universe story, a real character revealing moment, and they just skipped over it. The show takes the understanding that all these Jasons are, essentially, the "same" person in some way, that the things one Jason does reflect the things that another Jason could do, given the right circumstances, but it mostly does it for a "not so different" message.

Alright, let's talk about the universe traveling, which is the main gimmick of the show. It's only really relevant to Jason1 trying to get back, but there's at least one clever twist: the doors in the infinite hallway that expands when you take the drug do not actually matter, as any door can lead to any world, and instead, the world that you end up in depends on what your mind is doing at the moment you open the door.

This is obviously pretty dumb and not how we would expect this thing to work, but I am going to forgive it because it ends up being really neat in terms of what it allows in the story: any door Jason1 opens leads him to a world that reflects his psyche. If he's worried about the life his wife would leave without him, he'll find a world where she's completely fine. If he's worried about her death, he'll find a world where she's dying. Unfortunately, the show doesn't do all that much psyche-exploring through this mechanism they've set up, which is one of my main problems with the show: it doesn't seem like it wants to go that deep.

There's an upcoming game called The Alters where you're an astronaut on an alien planet who uses some quantum machinery to pull in "alters" of yourself from other timelines. You're doing this because you need people with different skills to repair your ship or whatever, but they have a whole map of every life choice the protagonist has ever made, and look, I just played the demo so maybe it's shit, but they did seem to have mapped out multiple points of divergence.

In Dark Matter we mostly just get Jason1 and Jason2. Jason1 is trying to get back to his family and does not really even have that much of an arc. Jason2 does an absolutely hack job of becoming Jason1 and realizes that this is actually not the life he wants (but partly this is because he keeps fucking up).

Starting around episode 8, we get some plot events that I thought did redeem the show a little bit, if only because they were interesting things to do with the idea. Jason1 finally comes back to Universe1 ... and we find out that he's not the only one. There are lots of Jason1s, because through the power of quantum or whatever, they've been multiplying with every decision made during the universe-hopping trip. I don't think it was necessarily handled all that well by the writing or cinematography, but it was interesting, and I found myself re-engaged.

Unfortunately, the show didn't seem to really know what to do at that point. When there are two Jason1s, they can have a conversation with each other, but when there are thirty ... they set up a chat room where the hundreds of Jason1s talk with each other, and we get some fun stuff like them having identical lines of dialogue, and his wife and son get their phones blown up with identical text messages from all the variants. For what seems like a tenuous reason, Daniella decides that one of the Jason1s has special privilege and gloms onto him as the "real" one, which is not supported by the show's rules, and after some thriller stuff, they eventually leave through the Box and go to another universe where they can presumably have normal lives or whatever.

I thought the "hundreds of Jasons" stuff would have made a good story, or maybe a movie. It's "wouldn't it be fucked up if" scifi, "wouldn't it be fucked up if there were three hundred of your husband and they were all fighting to be the one that's married to you". I kind of want to write my own basic version of that story, with the other stuff stripped away. Actually, now that I think about it, I did write a story like that, but about a man who got his brain uploaded and ends up linking up with the others, who gets an automated response from his college girlfriend saying "I know this is unique for you, but versions of you contact me at least twice a day". I wrote that fifteen years ago or something like that, so it's probably not very good.

The problem for Dark Matter is that they don't really care about the mechanics of the scifi, and it makes the whole rest of the story feel less substantial than it might otherwise have. The hundreds of Jasons thing ends up being a pretty substantial plot hole, on top of a few other gaps.

The rest of this review is just going to be me working out the shape of these holes, sorry.

To start with, the Box is created in universe 2, and when it does its superposition thing, it seems as though the Box gets placed in new universes at the point when the door opens. From what we know, the Box is always in the same location, sometimes underwater, sometimes underground, but usually in the facility where the box was made, or an abandoned warehouse in universes where that company didn't exist. In a few cases, the Box ends up in a park or something, right out in the open. This isn't really explained, and I got the sense the show creators didn't care about it, but it felt like it should be important, especially when Jason exits a Box in the middle of a park and then just ... leaves? As though there's no risk that someone is going to come along and cordon this artifact off, at the very least?

There's also the issue that the box supposedly only works if the door is closed (something something observer effect) but this does sort of not work well with the mechanics of what happens later. Leaving the door open would mean that no one could enter that universe through the Box, unless traveling to a universe closes the Box, but for there to be hundreds of Jasons in the final episode I think it's pretty much a requirement that you can come into a universe even if the Box is closed. It was one of those small things that irritated me because it had implications for how it all worked and was never clarified. (Jason2 does at one point encase the Box in concrete to prevent entry, which I guess he wouldn't do if you could just leave the door open, but ... what happens if the center of the box is filled? What happens if there's stuff in the way? Very unclear.)

The biggest problem for the show is that it's got the Whole Damned Multiverse, and logically, you should be seeing tons of Jasons even before the eighth episode. It should be happening before the start of the show, in fact, because by their logic Jason2 should have shown up eighty different times. (It would have been cool and clever for Jason2 to have some kind of solution to this that Jason1 was ignorant of, but nope.) Having a bunch of Jasons show up is cool, but it essentially nukes the rest of the show. The whole premise of Universe 2 is that no Jason2 ever came back, and that two other test subjects went out and never came back, and ... that shouldn't be the case, right? Funny enough, there's a part where they run into one of the test subjects who's been traveling the multiverse and ended up in a hellish supermosquito world, and ... there have got to be tons of her out there too, right? So they didn't run into her, they ran into a version of her. That's not a plot hole, just a funny bit of recontextualizing, and it makes what felt like a weird random coincidence a bit more logical.

When episode eight came out, and it was revealed there were multiple Jasons, I actually had a different theory about where they were coming from. You see, obviously there's not just Universe 2, there are infinitely many variants of Universe 2, which means infinite variants of Jason2, who had traveled around to get to variants of Universe 1 and Jason1. But assuming that all those Jason1s put Jason2 in Universe 2, I thought it would be a neat twist for all the Jason1s to come back to a universe that wasn't their own, but instead, the idealized version of home. There are billions of Jason1s, all with their small variations, but they're seeking out universes through force of will and mental models, and those probably aren't as varied. There must necessarily be a universe where Jason1's wife cheats on him and he never knew about it, but that's not the universe that he would go back to, he would go back to one where his wife is as perfect as he's been thinking this entire time. But no, it's that the Jason1s were multiplying.

The show somewhat ambitiously sets up a bunch of things for a second season. There are people lost in the multiverse, and at least one scene that had an "I want to talk to you about the Avengers Initiative" vibe. Jason's story felt like it was over to me, but there are at least four secondary characters that could potentially have some kind of plot happen involving them.

Is it good scifi? I would say that it's not. They don't care about the mechanics of multiverse travel, and by the standards of the multiverse, there's nothing that really wowed me. Even the apocalypse planets felt dreary and unimaginative: nuclear fallout, plagues, rising waters, frigid cold ... the supermosquitos were the only one that I really liked. There are two utopia worlds, and the one we spend the most time in is pretty lame. Funny enough, they say that they've discovered cold fusion and Jason just ... doesn't seem to care about that, or about bringing back the technology to his own world. Say what you want about Sliders, but at least it showed a lot of creativity.

So the show that I'm left with is one that cares a lot about its characters and all their varieties, and that's also not everything it could be. I wanted more backstory on Jason, more understanding of how he became the person he is, more on who he could have been, given the right pushes at the right times.

#dark matter #tv review

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quicktosimp · 1 year

Text

To Become One

Kinktober Day 09

Neteyam/Human!Reader

A/N: This was way longer than I originally thought it would be, 3.5k words 💀

This is really more fluffy than anything

Warnings: Aged up!Characters, Accidental Stimulation, Neural Queue Play, Mating, Alien Genitalia, Culture Differences

Thank you @pandoraslxna for putting this together for all of us 💕

Eclipse on Pandora was my favorite. The forest is completely aglow during the night. I have always loved the natural bioluminescence, especially from the sky. Neteyam had promised that he would take me out flying tonight, something we have missed doing due to our busy schedules. Neteyam, being the lead warrior for the hunting party, and I’ve been leading a new research project to allow humans to breathe Pandora’s air; neither of us have been together recently. But the hunting party has returned, and the feast was last night, so tonight is just for us.

I had just finished cleaning up my station for the night when I heard the airlocks engage. Looking over, I see Neteyam wearing the oxygen mask around his neck so he can take the occasional sips of air. I watch as he looks around, and his eyes finally settle on me; the beautiful green cat-like eyes brightened when they landed on me. The wrinkles atop his brown lessening. Neteyam has never liked being in the human labs. Between the smell of the metal and chemicals and the coldness on his bare feet, he avoids the labs if possible. However, sometimes, he will come to my station to pick me up, or he’ll join me in my room, as he enjoys my lack of mask.

“Teyam!” My surprise was evident; we weren’t supposed to meet at the base of the hallelujah mountains for another hour.

A soft smile graced his face, “I wished to see you sooner, ma Syulang. I also wished to walk you to the base of the mountain. The moon is dark tonight.”

Neteyam walks over and kneels next to my chair, bringing our faces close together; he leans down and places a kiss on my forehead before kissing my lips sweetly.

“Thank you, Love. I just need to finish packing these files, and then we can be on our way.” I place another kiss on his lips and run my hand through his braids, ending at the base of his skull. A shiver runs through his body as I pull away, looking dazed.

I head back to cleaning my stuff, wanting to finish so I have more time with Neteyam. While cleaning, I grab my inhaler; the closest thing I have to be able to breathe Pandora’s air is to ‘cure’ the toxicity. Instead, now I only have to use this every hour, and I can breathe with little difficulty. Use it more than five times, and I’ll end up with a nasty lung infection. But it’s worth it to be with Neteyam longer. As I walk back to Neteyam, I notice that he still seems dazed, and his face is flushed.

I placed my hands on Neteyam’s face to see if he was feverous, “Are you feeling alright, Neteyam? Your face is warm and flushed.”

“I am fine,” He whispered, looking at me quizidly.

I narrowed my eyes at him, “Are you sure? If you are feeling ill, then I do not want you out at night, and I will accompany you home.”

Neteyam cleared his throat and stood, “I am well, ma Syulang; you do not need to worry. Now, why don’t we start our journey so that we may fly for longer.” He offered me his hand.

As we began our trek through the forest, I would become distracted by all the little things of the forest. No matter how many times I see them, I fall in love with them again. Neteyam would follow me to every plant, insect, and fungi I saw. Holding my hand as I rambled on about each subject, every time I looked back, he always had a soft smile.

“Ma Syulang, we may never reach the ikrans at this rate.” Neteyam gently pulled me away and back onto the path.

“I know, Love, I can’t get over the beauty of the forest. I worry that if I don’t stop to respect it, then maybe one day I will forget.” I admit.

Pulling me into his arms, Neteyam places a finger under my chin, forcing me to look him in the eye, “The day that you forget Eywa’s beauty unheard of. You find love in every little thing. The day you fear will never come.”

“Thank you, Teyam.” I smile and let him carry me as we continue our journey; he will have to carry me once we reach the mountain base anyway. Once the rock wall was in view, Neteyam moved me so I was hanging off his back, my arms wrapped around his neck. His braids swayed as he climbed, hitting my face every now and then. His one long braid never had any beads; I was always curious about it. It’s special for the na’vi, the kuru, their neuro link, the way they connect to the animals, and to Eywa herself. The braid was perfect, not a hair out of place.

Shifting so I was hanging on with one arm, I reached out and touched his braid near the base of his skull. The hair was smooth, more so than the rest of his beaded hair. It was like holding a perfect silk rope. It's thick and has a decent weight to it. I understand why it’s called a neuro whip now. My hold is gentle but firm as I skim down to a lower part of the braid. While the braid is still the same thickness, underneath, I can feel the kuru is smaller in this area.

“Paskalin… What… What are you doing, my love?” Neteyam asks, his voice coming out in shallow breaths.

I reel back in shock, “Neteyam, what is with your breathing? You are sick, aren’t you?” Never letting go of his kuru, “Love, you need rest! Let’s head back to your hammock, so you can rest,”

He turns his head to look at me; like earlier, his eyes are blown wide, and he’s looking at me, shocked, like he cannot believe what I’m saying, “Love, I am more than fine. I am ecstatic that you have been so bold today,”

I paused, thinking of what he meant. We have always been physically close and have never hesitated to play with one another's hair. I returned to playing with his kuru nonpulsed, loving the silky feel. A deep rumble comes from Neteyam’s chest. I recognize his purr anywhere, but this one sounded deeper. Curious, I start from the top of his kuru, near his skull, and stroke down to the bottom of his braid.

“Oh fuck.”

‘Did Neteyam just cuss? No, he would never cuss. Let alone use an English one. It’s just the wind.’

At the bottom of his braid, I noticed the pink tendrils slipping, peeking out from between the strands of his hair. I bring them close to my face. I had never seen them this close before. They wave in the air, almost like they’re happy to be seen. Neteyam’s breathing becomes labored, but I won't scold him again. He’s a grown man, and he won't listen anyway.

I bring a single finger close to the tendrils, and they wrap around my digit. They’re the softest thing I have ever felt, more delicate than the softest of silk. I flex my fingers, feeling as they form and follow each movement.

“Syulang!” Neteyam moans. His head thrown back, and his eyes squeezed shut.

“Teyam?” I ask, completely bewildered.

“Oh, Syulang, you are so bold today. Making me feel so good. But unless you want us to meet Eywa tonight, please let go of my kuru.” He moans.

I gently pulled the tendrils away, watching as they return to hiding inside his braid. I let go and return to holding onto his neck. Slowly, his breathing returns to normal, deep laboring breaths evening out, and he returns to climbing.

The top of the cliff is gorgeous, allowing me to see all of the hallelujah mountains, but right now, I am more interested in the sight in front of me. Neteyam is covered in a sheen of sweat, unusual for him as this is a typical climb. His eyes are blown wide, and his pupils are dark and overtake most of his eyes. His mouth is agape, and a beautiful flush covers his face. I had never seen him like this before.

Neteyam falls to knees, kneeling before me, “Yawntutsyìp,” He pauses to lick his lips, “I know we have talked about mateship and working on the species specifics, but Yawntutsyìp, I did not think you would get so impatient.” His voice is breathless, his face expresses a mix of bliss, confusion, and awe.

I am even more baffled than I was before. Unsure where this has come from. Neteyam grabs my hands, leading them to hold his face. He nuzzles into the touch.

Chuckling, he continues, “Although I did not think you would propose to me on the cliffside. But you have gotten me fully ready to mate. I am open and ready for you. Do you wish to change our plans for tonight? I know a beautiful spot, perfect for us to mate at.” Neteyam asks, a bashful smile covering his face.

“Neteyam…” I whisper. My eyes are wide, but I am confused. Neteyam says I proposed to him, but he just proposed to me entirely out of the blue, but that does not change my answer, “Yes, I want to mate with you.” I smile, tears pricking my eyes.

Neteyam stands, picks me up, and kisses me. It was full of happiness and passion, like I had given him the whole world, just as he had given me.

Parting, he rushes, “Let me bring you to the perfect spot.” Neteyam called his ikran. He performs tsaheylu, setting me in front of him as he straddles his ikran.

From there, he takes off, launching us into the air. The night sky is a never-ending field for us to roam. The stars twinkle a perfect navigation system, guiding Neteyam to wherever he is bringing us for our mating. I look up at his face, the freckles forming their own constellation. Neteyam looks ecstatic. His beautiful face stretched into the biggest smile I have ever seen.

The wind from the flight began to chill me to the bone, the sharp gusts hitting my face, so I shifted around, so I am now facing Neteyam. I huddle myself into him. Shielding my face from the cold. Leaning my head to rest on his navel, the fabric of his tweng against my cheek. I’ve always loved the feeling of na’vi woven cloth. I rub my face into his tweng. I can feel each strand of the smooth material against my skin. Neteyam rests his hand against my head, holding me close. I look up and smile at him, thankful he’s protecting me from the wind. I lean in and lay a kiss on his navel, right above the top of his tweng. His fingers tighten on my head, his thumb rubbing back and forth on the top of my scalp. It was then that I noticed this central strip, the one that hides his slit. The top of it was peeking out of his tweng, already open, and I finally realized what I had been doing, back in the lab, on the climb, and now here. I’ve been touching him, turning him on, and now Neteyam is so horny that his slit is open. I rub my hand from where the top of his slit down to where the bottom would be. I could feel the tip of his cock peeking through the fabric of his tweng, and I wanted more. I reach around Neteyam, grasping at the ties, wanting access to his dick.

Neteyam grabs my hands in one of his and shouts to be heard over the wind, “Ma Yawne! Please do not kill us today!” His voice is shocked.

Determined to explore him more, I look Neteyam in the eye and lick the top of his slit, sucking on the spot I can reach. Neteyam’s eyes close, and his mouth opens in a moan. His ikran also dips in the air. Neteyam quickly rightens us, but I have learned my lesson for now.

We soon landed at a clearing, but our journey wasn't over yet, “Come, Yawne. We are almost there.” Neteyam whispered in my ear as he helped me down.

We walked a short distance, and I soon recognized where we were. The small creek leads into a larger portion of open water. Surrounding the area was a banana fruit tree, the one where Neteyam and I met. Nostalgia and love flowed through me. The place we first met is now where we will mate.

“This is perfect, my love.” I was choked up, my voice barely above a whisper.

Neteyam kneels before me, holding my face in his hands, “I only wish the best for you, Yawne, and now here I am asking to be that for you, to take care of you, as you take care of me, to hold me as I hold you. Yawne, I ask you here and now, will you become my Muntxate?”

My hands reach for his face, cradling it as he cradles my own, “Yes, Neteyam. I wish for nothing more than to become your Muntxate and for you to be my Muntxatan.”

Our mouths meet in a slow kiss, savoring each other presence, his plush lips dominating mine. Neteyam licks at my lips, and I eagerly accept him in. His tongue filled my mouth completely, not leaving an inch unexplored. I suck on his tongue, wanting more from him. A deep groan emits from him as one of his hands travels lower, wrapping around my waist pulling me closer to him.

Neteyam pulls away, our saliva mingling between our parted lips, “Syulang, you’re being such a good girl for me. I love you so much.”

“Love you, Teyam,” I respond.

Neteyam’s hands grip the bottom of my shirt, pulling over my head, his hands now roaming my bare skin. His lips followed, laying small kisses wherever he decided. As his lips worked, he fumbled with the button of my jeans. His large hands struggle with the small button, and I hear his groan before I hear the rip. My jeans are in tatters as Neteyam rips them off me, leaving me in just my underwear.

“Why do tawtute wear so much clothing? It should not be so difficult to see my Muntxate.” Neteyam complains.

I chuckle at him as he sounds like a perturbed child, “Do you wish I were never to wear them?”

“Yes! Never again.” Neteyam agrees quickly.

“Then you will have to weave me something. Maybe a skirt? That way, you will have access to me at all times, never even having to take it off.” I explain, liking the idea of him using me at any moment.

Neteyam’s moan is loud, and his grip on my hips is near bruising, “Oh, Paskalin. I would love nothing more than that. I will weave you everything you wish. And giving me access to your pussy whenever I want, we will never be a part. I will have you fill, whether it be my tongue, fingers, or my dick. It will not be long until my seed takes.” His hips are rocking into my core.

“Please, Teyam, please!” I grasp his braids as he rocks into my clit.

Neteyam quickly rids me of my undergarments, leaving me bare to him. I grasp at the straps to his tweng pulling, wanting it off now.

“Mawey Yawntutsyìp, Mawey.” He mutters, as if he hasn’t already destroyed my jeans.

“Hurry, Neteyam.” I plead.

He removes his tweng, showing his open slit, the tip of his cock peeking, ready to come out.

“I can not hurry, Yawne. You are so small; it will take time for you to be prepared.” Neteyam responds calmly.

He lays me on the ground. The plush moss against my back is a comforting feeling, the coolness a stark contrast to my heated body. His hands slowly caress my legs, leading up to my core. Neteyam’s thumbs eased close to my core, not quite touching the folds of my pussy, and spread them, showing him my twitching hole. Slowly, he eases a thumb closer to my center, rubbing the outside without penetrating.

“Neteyam, please don’t tease me,” I beg.

“Of course, Yawne.” From there, he inserts his thumb in deep. My cunt gladly accepted the intrusion.

“Oh Teyam, feels good,” I tell him.

He leans down, caging me in his arms, and kisses my neck, thrusting his thumb into my cunt. The glide brings a slow build as his other fingers rub my clit.

“So pretty for me, Yawne, leaking so much on just my thumb. What will you do on my fingers? Let alone my dick?” Neteyam asks.

His fingers leave my pussy, and are quickly replaced with one of his long fingers. His tongue now on my breast. Teeth grazing my nipple as he nibbles, switching which breast he gives attention to. Wet noises come from my cunt as his finger picks up speed. One soon becomes two.

“Neteyam!” I moan, the burn adding to my pleasure.

“Easy Yawne, it’s only two fingers. Your pussy is just so tight. Even a small finger is too much for you.” He mocks lovingly.

Neteyam’s fingers pick up as his mouth moves lower, kissing and biting my ribs, leaving marks on my stomach and hips when he finally reaches my cunt. His tongue lapped at my clit. The flat of his tongue licked a long swipe at the sensitive bundle before sucking it into his mouth. It was a distraction as his third finger joined the others. The thick digits bring me closer to my high as Neteyam suckles at my clit.

“Teyam! Teyam! I’m gonna cum! Please, Teyam!” I beg, needing my release.

Neteyam picks up the speed of his fingers, and the power of his sucks, and soon my vision is white, and my back is arched as I came. My limbs twitched as he let go of my cunt. I watch as he pulls his dick out the rest of the way. His thick long cock, covered in the spines all na’vi men have. Neteyam lines his cock up with my pussy, brushing my hole.

Neteyam’s face is now close to mine, “Are you ready, Yawne? From here, we are mated.”

“Yes, Neteyam, I am ready to spend the rest of our lives together.” I wrap my arms around his neck, wanting to be as close as possible.

Neteyam reaches behind him, bringing his kuru, and hands it to me, “This is for you, for you to protect and cherish. I want you to care for it as we mate.” He admits.

I hold his kuru as the pink tendrils come out to play again. They wrap around my fingers again, and he pushes in. My cunt stretches wider than ever before, accommodating to his girth and the spines, as they each pop into my cunt, each spine trying to find its home.

“Oh, Yawne, you’re so tight! You fit my cock perfectly. I can feel my spines finding their spot. I’m gonna lock in your pussy, and I’m gonna fill you with my seed.” He grunts.

I squeal at his words, wanting to be filled with his cum. His spines locking at different points, refusing to leave the him they have found, tugging at each movement we make. Many of them have locked, grinding inside me as he finished trying to line up. His thumb quickly found my clit again, already oversensitized from cumming. I wrap my thighs around his narrow waist, humping at his thumb.

“Baby, Teyam, I need to cum!” I scream, the pleasure overwhelming.

Neteyam’s breathless as he grinds his cock into me, the locked spines dragging and pulling, bringing both of us closer to our highs, “Ma Yawne. Oh Fuck. You just came for me. Shit, and you’re gonna come again? Damit, fuck, such a good pussy. My fucking good girl, my slutty Yawntutsyìp needing my cock.” His voice was little more than a growl.

Then he locks, the tendrils at the tip of his cock, slide through my cervix, opening it wide, “Cumming! Cumming Paskalin!” his cum floods my womb, nothing stopping his cum from its path. The grith of his cock keeps everything trapped inside.

Neteyam’s thumb picks up speed, bringing me to my second high while trapped on his dick.

“I love you, ma muntxate, thank you, I will make sure you never regret this.” He kisses my lips sweetly.

I smile at his words, “Love you, Neteyam te Suli Tsyeyk'itan. I will never regret mating you. This is the happiest day of my life.”

Neteyam rolls us over, so I lay on top of him, “Maybe one day you can create a way so my seed may take, and you can carry our child.” He muses, playing with my hair.

“Neteyam? Your father is an avatar. You have enough human DNA to get me pregnant.”

Update: A visual of the genitalia here

#avatar #atwow #avatar way of water #kinktober #smut #neteyam sully #neteyam x reader #atwow neteyam #lunaskinktober2023

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xdivyxd · 1 year

Text

I know my love should be celebrated (pt.1)

Pt.2 can be found here :)

Pairing: Gerard Way x Reader

Word count : 1170

Description : this is just pure angst, like not even a little bit of happiness. Based on the song ' tolerate it' by Taylor Swift :)

Warnings: none? Lmk if I'm wrong:)

"Hi" i said as i walked out of my room, Gerard just got home from the studio.

his band, my chemical romance is recording their new record and he had been getting home late each night and leaving early each morning, i bearly get to see him anymore.

"Hi" he says without looking at me and lying down on the couch "i made dinner cuz you said you would come home early today but it's cold now" he looked at me frustrated, as if i said something wrong "i couldn't get away early y/n, why are you attacking me?" i felt my heart ache a bit at how harsh his voice sounded.

I went to the kitchen, taking the fancy plates that i took out just for tonight and put them back in their cabinets, trying to control my emotions, trying to understand my boyfriend.

'He loves me, he's just tired and this album is important to him' i keep repeating in my head, breathing deeply. 'He's not tired of you, it's just from all the work he's doing'

"I am not attacking you Gee I was just saying" i responded to his question, and took a sit next to him on the couch handing him a cup of tea "how was today? What did you record?" I looked at him as he put the cup on the table and got up "it was fine, I'm really tired I'm gonna go to bed"

I nodded, mumbling a quiet 'good night'.

I steard at the cup of tea that he didn't even take one sip of, he did not say good night. It felt like he care about me anymore.

I decided to leave the cup of tea in the living room, along with my sadness and just go to bed, maybe if I'll wake up tomorrow before he leaves to the studio he'll be in a better mood and it'll be better.

I got in bed next to Gerard, looking at him breathing peacefully, i smiled to myself and closed my eyes, slowly falling asleep.

When i woke up in the morning, reaching out to Gerard's side of the bed only to find it empty, my heart broke, i missed him again..

I got up and walked to the kitchen, i poured myself a cup of coffee and looked through the paper for a while before getting ready for work.

When i got home at night from my shift Gerard was sitting in the living room watching TV and drinking coffee

"We need to talk" i said as soon as i saw him, all day i was thinking about the state of our relationship in the past few weeks and i hated it.

I hated the way he made me feel, desperate to be included in his life, begging to be a part of his story.

"Alright" he said, a bit concerned, and i set down next to him, looking at his face, and all i could think about how this might be the last time I'm seeing his face.

"Why do you hate me?" Those are not the words i wanted to say to him, this is not how i wanted to start this conversation, but my mouth was faster then my mind..

"I don't hate you, why would you even think that?" His voice was soft, his hand resting on my thigh "y/n what's going on?"

I blinked, is he dumb? Or is he just acting dumb?

"You're tolerating me instead of loving me" his once soft gaze, turned into a mixture of sadness and anger

"I do love you y/n" i shook my head "it's not what i mean" i simply said and got up from my spot on the couch, i had so many feelings trapped inside of my body i just had to get up and walked it off, i couldn't sit still.

"So explain to me, what do you mean?" He got a bit frustrated, i could feel that he did not want to hace this conversation right now, but i didn't care.

"You go to the studio every morning so early, you don't even leave a note, you don't call at all throughout the day, you come home late every night, you don't say a word to me, how am i supposed to feel about that?" i said throwing my arms up in frustration

"I need to go to the studio, it's my job y/n." Now he also got up, now this conversation turned into a fight

"Would you stop saying my name like that?!" My voice got a bit higher than usual, which happens when i get mad

"Like what?" He said and let out a frustrated breath

"Like it's disgusting you, like i annoy you, like you're patronizing me." I felt a lump in my throat and i tried very hard not to cry.

"I'm not patronizing you, I'm trying to understand what do you want me to do" i rolled my eyes "i want you to show me that you love me and not only say that you do. Cuz at this point i don't really believe you anymore"

"I am doing everything i can! I want you to be happy but i have a career to maintain. My band mates, my friends, are counting on me."

"And i am supporting your career Getard but goddammit i also count on you! I need you too Gerard!" I raised my voice and this time a few tears fell down my checks, i wiped them with the back of my hand and looked at him, i saw that his heart was breaking, i can see it in his eyes..

"Can we just go to bed and talk about it tomorrow? I'm really tired i had a long day today" he asked and looked at me with a, now, blank expression on his face.

Of course he wasnts to take a break from the fight, cuz it doesn't matter what i need or feel "no we can't go to bed, we either do this now or we're done. I don't deserve to feel like this."

As soon as i said it i regretted it, i hoped he would keep talking to me, that he would not walk away from us, that he would tell me he's sorry and it'll change.

I hoped he won't end us.

"Then i guess we're done" he said quietly, i can see the heartbreake in his eyes

"Gerard.." i whispered as he put on his shoes and jacket and opened the door to our home "I'll stay at Mikey's tonight"

I couldn't believe he would just walk away from us, from me..

He closed the door as tears ran down my face "no please" i said as a sob escaped my lips as i walked outside after him, but he was already gone, i was left alone, sobbing, stranding in front of our house, hoping he would come back.

But he didn't

#gerard way x reader #gerard x reader #Gerard way #x reader #mcr x reader #my chrmical romance #my chem gerard #my chemical romance x reader #my chem x reader #Spotify

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toomanyideasandfandoms · 4 months

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I've been reading some of the Death Seeker Creator content, and was wondering what exactly was the appeal for them? Even if their sanity is fractured, the desire to live would be an instinctual drive for the Creator to avoid it. Then I realized: when a person is in a life or death situation, the body releases a shit-ton of chemicals into the nervous system due to the fight-or-flight response. Adrenaline, cortisol, all that junk is being flooded into the Creators system each time right before they die.

Could they have become addicted to the feeling? Is the Death Seeking Creator now the equivalent of an adrenaline junkie going to mad lengths to get their fix?

That essentially is the answer anon, relatively speaking. It's hard to fully explain it without getting into why I written this au and why (I assume) others enjoy it just as much.

The fact of the matter is, most aus I've seen, while beautifully written and amazing to read, don't really take their writing to a certain point. Like you said the will to live is instinctual, but that will can be broken. I wanted a creator that had that will broken, just at the point of no return in terms of their mental sanity.

While I know I've said there is potential healing from that state, I don't really like or want to focus on it. That part is more so for those who want a happy ending for this au.

But what I enjoy is the pure angst and horror the characters will go through, seeing the one thing they love the most and cherished to the point it was more of a cultish obsession than an actual religious faith wither into nothingness by their own hand. And my main reasons are because honestly, if I was in this sort of situation. I would be this creator. I wouldn't have that spiteful drive to live if every time I ran it only ended in another death.

Though in all likelihood, becoming a death seeking junkie would be spiteful in a way. The thought process would be "if I have to be the one who dies for the god's entertainment, I might as well make it more fun. More gruesome, more...entertaining."

I guess you could say this is just purely...whump? Is, is that the right term? I'm not familiar with it so idk please correct me. Either way this is just me wanting to take the cult side of the sagau to the next step where the characters actions have the worst case consequences. No world ending scenario, but they would prefer it to be that instead of seeing their beloved seek death before their eyes.

That's essentially my reasons, though for those reading please do not assume this means I'm mentally unwell. I am as sound as anyone else who enjoys these fics, I actively advise against getting deep into my au if you at all believe you're meant to die like this creator. You are not, your life is precious and should be taken care of with the utmost respect. Do not put those who love you into that same suffering the characters go through.

Honestly I don't even know if everything I written can fully explain the point of making and reading this au. I actually didn't expect it to pick up like it did, I was mainly dumping it for myself more than anything. I know not many like the more extreme cult aus, which is perfectly fine in all honesty. Even I want some more wholesome aus from time to time depending on my mood.

Sorry if this isn't exactly what you asked, I tend to not really focus on the logical side of things when it comes to fics and aus. I mainly just prefer to talk about ideas and potentially creative things then focus on the details such as the whys.

#idk if i should tag this #death seeking creator #i guess ill put that one at least #i feel like i typed too weirdly today #i was rewatching black butler #so i may have ended up in a more sophisticated thinking process #no matter

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fynnisshit · 4 months

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Nina the killer: Rewrite

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Update 1/?

For my Nina rewrite, I just wanna put some things down for debate on if I should include this. A lot of what I'll be saying here are personal headcanons and such of the type because from the original story, there isn't too much to go off of. I am also going to be referencing Seireitonin's (on tiktok and tumblr) headcanons for Nina because I agree with some.

For starters, I am going to write Nina as a Blasian person (Dad was Black, Mother is Chinese). I think in a lot of ways it can add depth to her character, and it also makes sense in a lot of ways to me. In Seireitonin's post about why she thinks Nina is black she mentions how in a lot of cases black people often have absent fathers (That is not coming from me, that was said by Seireitonin who *is* a black person) and it lines up with how Nina's father was never once mentioned in her original story. In my rewrite, I want to write that her father actually dies from an illness like cancer. I think that it could be more sympathizable when it comes to her insanity that her father passes away when she is still growing rather than is absent since she was a baby. Also, in regards to her being part Asian, I think it could add to why she was bullied. I'm aware that many Asian people have and are often times made fun of and picked on for their ethnicity, and that also goes for African American peoples (in no way am I excusing this behavior). The bullying part of the story isn't only going to be motivated by her race, and I do not wish for it to be.

As I'm sure many people and myself headcanon her as a scenekid, I'd like to include that. I assume she is a scenekid and has just moved to a suburban area with her mother and brother. Many suburban parts of towns are generally middle-upper class, white, and typical "normal" people. I would assume that if a Blasian scene teenager moves into their part of town, it would probably give them some "bad" impressions.

For the setting of the rewrite, I'd like to make it known that Nina has just moved from California to a small town in Michigan. I think the generic trope of a girl from a small town moves to a big city is very fun, but I think it'd be super rad if the trope was reversed. In the rewrite, I want to include that one of the only reasons that Nina moves to a small town in Michigan is because of her mom having a job relocation. There's a city in Michigan called Freeland that is really close to a river, which I think later on it'd be handy for Nina herself when it comes to discarding the bodies she had killed. Also, Freeland is very close to a city called Midland, which is the headquarters of a big chemical plant/company called Dow (This is true, I actually researched for this, lol). Dow has a location in Hayward, California, which I think would be a good place for Nina to move from, assuming that her mom works at Dow.

I researched and found out that Midland is actually pretty expensive to live in, so I thought that the smaller and more affordable town nearby, Freeland, would work just fine.

In the rewrite, Nina and her little brother, Chris, would go to school at a Catholic or Christian, K-12, school. I don't think that Freeland actually has any religious schools, but I'm not going to be *that* accurate. At the school, I imagine that they would have a uniform and dress code that Nina tried her hardest to push the limits of with out breaking them to get away with being able to express herself in the way that she likes. That's where her canon outfit would come into play. The classic black skirt, purple hoodie, and red striped stockings are seemingly tame outfits. At school, I imagine the dress code is not too strict. Simply, a black or navy skirt, stockings, or tights with no more than two colors and a school polo. I'm sure they allow sweaters or jackets when coming and going from school, so thats why Nina would be able to wear her purple hoodie.

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fin

#creepypasta #slenderman #slenderverse #nina the killer #nina the killer rewrite #nina hopkins #creepypasta rewrite #rewrite #headcanon #canon #fanfic

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samuwhal · 1 year

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We need to change how we talk about self-help techniques.

By self-help techniques, I’m talking about: grounding, mindfulness, meditation, breathing exercises, physical activity, and--the big one--yoga. I have struggled with my mental health since I was fifteen, and just now, I am realizing how much these things can actually help. I am almost twenty-six years old, and I will have been in therapy for ten years this fall. Let me tell you, I have spent so much of that time renouncing these tools. Recently, though I’ve realized that: holy shit, they can really work...but man they are offered to struggling people in the worst possible light.

TL;DR: Just because suggestions about ways to manage mental illness are framed as “you have to try it or you want to be sick” doesn’t mean that they can’t actually work or that you are invalidating yourself by trying or being helped by them. Featuring personal anecdotes and a boat metaphor.

I know I am not alone in that the idea of these techniques and exercises just made my skin crawl. They made me feel vulnerable in a way which really scared me, they felt impossible to initiate in the moments needed most, and--ultimately--they felt incredibly diminutive. Think about it: people getting sucked into rapids will drown cursing your name if all you do is insist they have to “ride the wave.” “Fuck you.”

When I began taking anti-depressants, it was not without a fight. I’m lucky; my parents were willing and able to put me in therapy as soon as I asked. But with medication, they were concerned it was a shortcut, that I would be on pills for the rest of my life, and that the chemicals would change me and do “the work” for me, as if this was an issue of character development and not brain malfunction. Why wouldn’t I just do something relaxing when I was upset? Why wasn’t I leaning more into my spirituality? Why wasn’t I letting anything else help me?

And that’s the problem! I tried to explain that I would be able to use those techniques easier if medication brought my overall symptoms down. You wouldn’t expect me to paddle upstream against a tsunami, but I could feasibly make progress against a strong current. Even at that point, if I go over rapids, I want a fucking life jacket, not somebody with their feet firmly planted on the riverbank shouting, “Try yoga!” Though I of course continued therapy in addition to medicine, I still resisted any advice having to do with self-help because of that sentiment.

To be clear, I’m still very pro-medication and for eliminating that stigma. Really, though, when somebody is having such debilitating symptoms--emotions--that they feel like they are getting pulled underwater and gasping for air, it’s not fair that the solution could be something as effortless as breathing in while counting until it’s better. That sounds like bullshit. Mental illness physically hurts, but to outsiders, it’s all in your head, and it would be fine if only you could step back and appreciate how good you have it. If “mindfulness” works, then maybe those people are right, and that can’t be true. It hurts too much to be true.

However, I want you to know that your struggles won’t be any less legitimate if something simple actually does end up helping. I have two stories here:

1. Last year, after wanting to start for ages, I finally began exercising: just going to the gym a couple of times a week. My goal was only to feel better in my body, not really to do anything for myself mentally. I even hired a personal trainer to write work-out routines for me to follow, both to hold myself accountable (I won’t skip if I’m paying someone) and just so I wouldn’t be totally lost the second I walked in. But I have felt so many unexpected mental benefits, as well:

Getting my heart rate and breathing elevated--and continuing to exert myself through it--has kept me steadier when anxiety starts to set in. I feel more confident knowing that I can lift heavy things, run distances, and because I did something productive. I’m not stress or bored-eating, not necessarily because I’m afraid I’ll “put the calories back,” but because I’m simply more regulated. I have been sleeping better since pushing my muscles has reduced my lower back pain. I don’t procrastinate showering if I’ve just gotten back from the gym. When I sit down to schoolwork, I focus easier if I had exercised. Something something endorphins. I know I’m starting to sound like a “bro,” but the point is that these are huge benefits to exercising that just don’t get mentioned by the people crudely suggesting that it will fix your depression.

2. A couple of months ago, I was having a bad night, and the “don’t believe any negative thoughts about yourself after 10 p.m.” rule had gone out the window. I did what many of us have taught ourselves to do and asked for a lifeline: I texted my girlfriend in the same room (because vocalizing it was too hard) asking if she would come over to sit with me. I didn’t even realize I was having an anxiety attack, but she did. At first, I felt too frozen and in-pain when she asked me to sit up from clutching the fetal position. Instrumentally, though, she said that she wanted to help, but I had to help myself, too. She was throwing me a ring, but I had to swim and meet her halfway. I sat up.

She held me and led me through a “find five things in the room” exercise, and fuck me: it helped. No, I wasn’t cured. I’m still not. But this broke my self-destructive loop, and I was able to go to sleep relaxed. This was an epiphany for me. I could have provided myself this tool, this comfort, the entire ten years I’ve been dealing with this shit! Instead, I’ve just been enduring it, hoping against everything pulling me down that--instead of drowning--I’ll eventually kick the riverbed where it’s shallow enough to stand.

When self-help techniques are offered to mentally ill people, they tend to be used as a “gotcha:” you could easily be better, if only you wanted to try. To be completely fair, this isn’t always the meaning. However, it only takes a couple of those microaggressions to ensure you shut down when your therapist or a concerned loved one asks if you've tried "grounding” before.

Please, take it from me: these tools aren’t just leaky arm floats that people who never even needed to learn how to swim offer just to feel better as they watch you struggle. They are a life jacket to keep you afloat when you tip, a wider paddle to outrun the rapids, a better rudder and tiller so you can actually steer, a bailing bucket for when things get dicey, or pontoons so you won’t tip so readily. Trying self-help techniques doesn’t disclaim what you’re going through, they just might make it more bearable.

And you’re worth that.

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