#but I mean it works I guess my nightmares are down like 90%
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me: *laying down for bed*
me: *praying to The Morrigan to shield my dreams*
me:
me:…
The Morrigan: *shows me flashing images of terrifying hags behind my eyelids like a fucked-up Pink Elephants On Parade*
me:
#the wolf speaks#but I mean it works I guess my nightmares are down like 90%#the morrigan deity#the morrigan devotee#the morrigan#the morrigan devotion#pagan humor#witch problems#pagan problems#celtic pagan#celtic paganism
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Driving in Palestine now is more dangerous than ever.
Yesterday, I drove from Ramallah to Dura, a village near Hebron to attend the funeral of Ahed, my friend’s baby sister, who had just become a mother. She was shot by an Israeli sniper. A heartbreaking loss.
If I could use Israel’s apartheid roads designated for settlers, it would be an 80-90 minute drive, but it took me 4 hours.
Why?
First, we’re forced to take segregated Palestinian only roads which make it a 2.5 hour drive because of checkpoints.
But these days, it’s even worse as Israel has imposed an even more strict strangulation policy over the West Bank, which means even some of those segregated roads are blocked and there are 10 times as many checkpoints.
Taking this drive outside our village/cities of residence is extremely dangerous for three reasons:
Settler attacks: Israeli settlers are in rampage mode, and you don’t know when you could get hit by a rock or bullet from one of their raging mobs.
Soldiers at the end of a wrong turn: There are no signs for what “roads” are currently opened or closed for us, you have to guess or stop to ask locals every few miles. If you make a wrong turn and end up face to face with soldiers, they can shoot you, and claim you attacked them.
Arrests for social media posts: If you’re stopped at a checkpoint, soldiers these days are taking folks’ phones and checking their WhatsApp’s and telegram and instagram. If you have a message standing in solidarity with Gaza, or anything the Israeli soldiers see as offensive, they’ll beat you to a pulp, and could even arrest you. My friend Diala, a human rights lawyer, was just arrested at one of these checkpoints this evening. We don’t know why, but it likely relates to her work and messages they found on her phone about it.
On my end, driving back at night was a nightmare, mainly because I had a friend in the car and was worried about him.
As we drove back, these historically busy streets were ghostly empty because nobody is taking the risk of driving at night unless necessary.
Every turn I’d take, I’d slow down to a crawl to make sure there was no trigger happy soldier or angry settler ready to pounce.
I got lucky as, although we waited at a checkpoint for an hour, the soldiers got bored and literally opened the checkpoint for all the cars to pass without any security check — proof they’re using these checkpoints arbitrarily as collective punishment.
In Dura, I saw where Ahed was shot.
The soldiers had stormed her village as part of their intimidation tactics in the West Bank to keep people anxious. Ahed ran to her roof to warn her husband to come home. An Israeli sniper shot her in the head.
As I drove home, thinking of Ahed, her heart broken family, the families of my friends in Gaza, all the souls we’ve lost, and how easy my life could be taken for simply driving across my ancestral lands to help my friend in her grief.
It shouldn’t have to be said, but our lives are precious. They’re beautiful. They’re equally worthy of joy and basic dignity.
I’m committed to one day being able to drive across my people’s ancestral land a free man, surrounded by my liberated people.
If Israel’s death machine is haunting us around every corner, we might as well live fighting for a life worth dying for.
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NIGHTMARE SANS HEADCANNONS
(Bc why not.)
NSFW HEADCANNONS MARKED WITH BANNERS FOR YOUR CONVENIENCE
⚠️ WARNING ⚠️
× Nightmare is a warning himself.
× These hc's will get progressively more and more intimate.
Caution is advised.
• The boss
— If you aren't a part of the "big crew" Nightmare will likely forget you are there.
- "You cleaned the toilets? Good. Go wash your hands you disgusting worm."
— Nightmare does not, and will not, like you, therefore will not acknowledge you.
- "Who are you again? Ah- it doesn't matter, what do you want?"
— Don't beg for your life if you get into trouble. It annoys the absolute shit out of him despite the negativity he gets out of it.
- "Oh shut up, you pitiful creature. I do not care if you 'won't do it again' you have displeased me, now face the consequences."
— Don't try to establish a relationship with him. You'll likely end up dead. Or the alternative he'll break your heart and feed off your negativity till it runs out. Then he'll kill you
- "You wish to be my significant other, mortal? Oh why, I thought you'd never ask. I would absolutely LOVE that. ."
— He is sadistic, he does not care if you are in pain. He is a king – a GOD – you are to bow down to him and work until you simply break down into nothing.
- "Awh, you're tired, mortal? I don't care, keep working."
— Again, don't establish a relationship with him. He does not acknowledge you. He does not want to be your friend.
- "I don't need friends, nor do I want them. Friends weigh me down, they think they are something of equal to me and assume I need their opinions. I don't. The path I walk is one I walk alone, I do not need company."
• Oh? You've caught his attention?
— This is by no means a good thing. Do not interpret it as such. There are two paths, choose how you act around him cautiously.
- "Watch your attitude around me, mortal, I am not your friend."
- "What are you doing, mortal? Ah, I have not read that book yet, alert me when you are finished, and no spoilers."
— He has not changed much. He is just testing your limits
- "Mortal, what is your greatest FEAR?"
(will add more to this one later)
• He likes you. / The "friend"
— Slightly a good thing.
- (no quote for this one)
— His nickname for you is now a little less degrading. Yet don't EVER take this as a sign of respect.
- "Greetings, human, how was that book I suggested?"
— Still don't attempt to establish a relationship, his intentions are still unclear
(will add more to this later)
• The lover.
— Ah, you're still alive? Congratulations. Not really.
- (no quote for this one)
— His nickname for you is still the same and he uses it 90% of the time. Though he has acquired some others for you.
- "Doll, come here, read with me.."
— It is safe to establish this as a relationship, but still don't think you have any command on what goes on in the castle.
- (No quote for this one)
— He is still sadistic, though it is tamed down slightly. Just a little bit.
- "Sorry for losing my temper, Darling, I guess I'm just feeling rather annoyed today"
(Will add more to this later)
• The Queen
— He loves you, he trusts you, he is not your king anymore, but instead your husband.
- "Morning, my rose, how have you slept?"
— Of course he has acquired more nicknames.
- (No quote for this one)
— You have say in what goes on in the castle, you have the highest of high roles, excluding his.
- "She is the queen, what she says goes. I don't care if you don't like it. You disrespect her and you shall perish"
— One who disrespects you will be seen as a threat to him and his kingdom and therefore will be punished or killed.
- "You disrespectful brat! How dare you talk to us like that. Killer, get rid of it."
(turns spicy from here)
— He's a beast in the sheets. No other title best fits him when he's taking you.
— Nightmare is rather..large. He will take his time and be slow..at first.
— When he gets fast - He gets fast. Whatever idea of fast and rough sex that you had in your mind before? It's gone right out the window.
— He pounds like there's no tomorrow.
— Don't be degrading, you've managed to get him to form a soft spot in his heart for you, don't make it seem like you think you're above him.
— On the terms of praise and degrading - Dirty talk REALLY gets him going.
— He wants you to be a pillow princess. He doesn't want you trying to take control, just lay there and take it.
— He doesn't mind performing or receiving oral, he won't outright do it during foreplay unless you ask.
— Don't be shy to express your desires or kinks around him. He just wants to make you feel good, no matter what it takes.
— He really likes overstimulation and master / slave play along with Tentacles. Obviously.
— He is not willing to sub unless you swear with your soul showing that you won't tell anyone or degrade him.
That's all for now. Obviously this is not finished and I will update later! Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed! If you have any requests don't be afraid to lmk
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(Title is a joke don’t take this seriously (please don't go to Ecuador)) GASA4AM COSPLAY MEET UP AT 0°47'03.1"S 91°00'09.9"W 1:00 PM ECT, BE THERE OR BE SQUARE!!!! (dev log #10)
Hi guys. I haven't died yet, for the people who are waiting on my downfall. It felt like I was dying because I was sick! yippee! I mean, I still am, but I can walk around mask free because it's basically just a little itchiness in my windpipe, but compared to last week Friday (I felt so sick I couldn't even get out of bed without the help of my parents dragging me out or even lift my head for that matter), I feel great. With how sick I was, I kinda didn't get to work on the fan game as I hoped I could. Of course, I could have requested to have a break from classes, but I think they wouldn't be so lenient without a covid test and I'm sure it would have been negative. I also had to do homework on top of having a sniffly nose and walking around like I was hit by a car. You know heavy machinery? I had to deal with that with fogged up glasses. My mom apparently said that her dad lost part of his finger to a table saw, and I thought I was going to have history repeat itself, although hopefully that doesn't mean the 90's are making a come back. The only good thing that may have happened was the MTV shows, Humongous Entertainment games and the Parappa series. And before you argue with me, Nirvana started in the 80's, and Titanic (1999) is not a good movie. Rose didn't love Jack, she basically kills him in the end because there WAS enough room on that door. Everyone who says she didn't kill him is a Rose apologist/j
Anyways, no more depressing shit for now. I’m almost done with the locations. At last. I have one more to do and then it's everyone else’s sprites and maybe rework Xandra’s because there are some animation errors in her sprites such as her ears disappearing when she walks. So yeah, next week when I finally have down time and feel better I can work on them. With the way things are going I'll probably have to update y'all the week after my birthday (which is late March. You guys will know when I change my bio from 20 to 21 (whopee I get to finally drink *shudders*)), because good god, classes are also going real hard on me. Midterm on the 6th? No thank you. Not after that essay you made us write which I practically had several panic attacks because I thought that piece of shit was going to fail me. If you're asking if I failed, no, surprisingly it got me a 100. I don't know if the teacher gave me pity points but somehow she said my clarity and my content was great which is surprising because there is no way someone who is practically having a panic attack and is really sleep deprived could ever do that (me when I was writing that).
I’ll be honest, the bottom floor for the house was a nightmare because there would be times when I had to figure out how the hell it would do the thing I wanted it to do based on Xandra’s location.
Anyways, music time. For possibly the last time for dev blogs for this project:
WATER BOWL💧🥣 WATER- 🗣️ WATER- 🗣️WATER- 🗣️WATER BOWL💧🥣🗣️ W-W-W-W-WATER ✨𝓫𝓸𝔀𝓵✨ (I was sick (and I still am) when I made that song)
(I guess there's now 2 songs with vocals)
Oh yeah I also drew up some stuff to make up for Valentine’s Day because I think it’s funny. And also it’s to cope with the pain of when my parents said go to bed and I was sick and bored and I couldn't lift my head up.
I also drew up something which was an old concept I had with Priyah, where instead of just pestering Xandra she did it to everyone by disguising herself as an erson (specifically as a holiday erson) and since there was no valentines verson in GASA4AM that I knew of I decided maybe she could pretend to be one of them.
(Translation because I know my handwriting is horrendous: Hi guys I’m Valentine’s Verson but you can call me Val. I’m like your 4th cousin. (These guys don’t look convinced))
Trust me you will recognize her in that Valentine’s version/Val disguise once you smack her glasses on her and take the lipstick off.
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YO. Natalie, question bomb. Question 15.
Who is the most important person I'm your life rn? Explain why.
Yo! Hi! Wow! Uh, I, like, never get these so this is fun! Thanks for the ask, Anon! I feel so included!
Okay, let’s get to it shall we? Who’s most important in my life? And why?
Uh… well… I don’t know if you’ve heard, but I sort of found a tiny bastard of a man in my pantry and he’s sort of been stuck with me ever since.
And look, I know he can be a total dick sometimes, well, most of the time…. But I’ll admit it, he’s got me wrapped around his little fingers. I mean not like… that… I just feel protective over him. I guess because I know he needs a someone he can rely on right now. Everyone deserves that, even if they’re a total asshat 90% of the time. But we’re not like… anything more than that. I mean, obviously. Anything other than that would be stupid and pointless on my part. He barely seems to tolerate me most of the time anyway. But I’m grateful he lets me stick around in his world.
He’s probably one of the most contradictory people I’ve ever met… like, he’s so incredibly intelligent and yet so so obliviously stupid at the same time. I’d never say it to his face but I think it’s adorable when a reference or social cue flies over his head. Poor guy, he does his best.
Despite what he thinks, I’m not an idiot, I see right through his little facade. Oh god, he’ll kill me if he reads this, but I know deep down, like deep deep down beneath his stony exterior, he’s a total sweetheart. I’ve seen enough hints of it to know it’s there. But wether I’ll ever be able to get it to come to the surface? Your guess is as good as mine.
Anyway, we do our best to get through each day without killing each other, and it’s worked well enough so far. He hasn’t bitten me in like a week so I count that as a big win? But I know, tucked away in the back of my mind, I’d do just about anything for that little nightmare. He deserves the world and I hope I can help him to conquer it one day.
That is, if he doesn’t just leave the second he’s healed up. Only time will tell, I guess. I’ll just do my best to enjoy the time I have with him, even if he does give me gray hair in return!
Super cool of you to send me an ask! Thanks so much!
Hope you have a great day!
Natalie
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The Promises I Made (2022)
...Aha ha ha...
Well, at least that’s over, I guess? I feel such a bone deep exhaustion I don’t even know what to say about this last year. Does anyone? One more year older, I suppose. Last year at this time I felt like I really needed to take it easy on myself going into 2022, but that just led to me drifting aimlessly through this last year as if stuck in a bad dream. Things really are still very rough...
2023 seems to be gearing up for another year of “Who knows?” Will it be better? Will another disaster strike? Let’s hope the former, and not the latter!
This year, like every year, there will be a new set of 50 promises to keep (or break), but in the mean time, here’s how I did on the promises from 2022!
Promises I Made (2022):
1) Get the Utah house chimney repaired before it falls down.
Status: Kept. It doesn’t look “brand new,” but it is properly sealed now and with new mortar between the bricks. Crisis averted.
2) Get both bedroom floors sanded in the Utah house upstairs.
Status: Broken. The Utah house needed a lot of improvements and unfortunately this wasn’t one of them that got done.
3) Get the Utah house sprinklers up and working ALL the way for this summer.
Status: Broken. I literally tried so hard to get someone out to work on these damn sprinklers and not a single person got back to me on this. Guess I’ll have to try again next May...
4) Actually get the back fence fixed up and the greenery back there trimmed and managed.
Status: Broken. I hate those goddamn vines so much. I HATE THEM.
4) Get an official exercise routine including walking/jogging, please.
Status: Somewhat kept. Most of the year I was pretty bad on this; however, I have a new puppy and she is learning to walk so I do got 4-5 miles a day now that she’s managed to work up to that.
5) Related to that, lose at least 20 pounds. 2020-2021 was not kind to me and the stress eating was real.
Status: Ugh, broken. See the above “sat around and did nothing but work for 3/4s of the year.”
6) Successfully set up and use the Roomba my family got for me to hopefully cut down on allergies.
Status: Broken. Okay listen. I was all ready to do this, then I got a P U P P Y. Who chews everything. The Roomba would not survive. It’s stationary until she gets a bit bigger and stops chewing.
7) Keep up with the specialist appointments that my doctor is making for me. No more getting confused on dates and missing…
Status: Kept. I actually managed to get in to see the RIGHT specialist this year who actually diagnosed my issues correctly. Too bad the recommended treatment is surgery that will be several thousand out of pocket...
8) Go see the dentist again because I think I broke/chipped one of my old fillings and it is not feeling good.
Status: Kept. The old filling was indeed broken, but it has been fixed!
9) Finish all the books I received as gifts from 2020 through 2021. It’s rude not to finish books people gave you out of love.
Status: ...Ahahaha. Broken. More books appeared, rather than disappeared, from the list.
10) Organize my documents (especially student papers)—my desktop and documents folders give me nightmares just looking at them.
Status: Damn, broken. I could have done this, but I didn’t think to do it before I left town for the holiday, and now I’m not on my home computer to do it. RIP.
11) Get my new SSD hard drive fully installed and working before going back to work.
Status: Kept.
12) Get a decent paper shredder to shred old mail.
Status: Broken. I completely forgot I made this promise. I do still need a shredder though. D;
13) Get the fucking post office to STOP delivering other people’s mail to my house. 90% of the mail that comes to the mailbox isn’t even for me and it is driving me C R A Z Y.
Status: Broken. Jesus fucking Christ. I am trying so hard. I talked to the postmaster TWICE and they still won’t stop delivering other people’s mail.
14) Get the Texas house dishwasher fixed… I’m so tired of washing dishes by hand… How do people do this, oof.
Status: Broken. I could have and I just didn’t.
15) Get a plumber to stop the dripping spare bathroom faucet and also check behind the wall in the side bathroom… This is gonna be expensive, ugh.
Status: Kept. It was fucking expensive.
16) Talk to an HR rep about my retirement savings so that I can consolidate my retirement accounts. I have been putting this off for like five years now.
Status: Broken. I completely forgot I made this promise. But damn I also still need to do this, lol.
17) Do at least one artwork to actually use that new paint program I bought.
Status: Broken. Oof.
18) Pay my credit debt down by at least $2000. I’m still paying off the hell year but I hope I can make progress on this.
Status: Broken. I was doing so good for a while there, then my car had a major issue that cost over $2000, my back fence blew down in a storm and cost $1700 to re-fence, and I had to pay over $800 for the above-mentioned plumbing fixes... Back in debt again. Fuck you, 2020s.
19) Be a super prepared boss and be ahead of the game on all major requirements for the semester, rather than feeling like I’m playing catch-up all the time.
Status: Broken. Spring 2021 was really good. I thought I did really well that semester. Fall 2021... was a nightmare. Just a complete disaster. I felt so far behind on everything from Day 1. I’m just praying I can do better this year.
20) See a groove-billed ani. This will be the year!
Status: DUDE, I kept this promise so hard that I no only saw a groove-billed ani, I ALSO saw a smooth-billed ani, which is like 100 times rarer. I saw some great birds this year!
21) Make it to 3500 followers on tumblr. You should follow me. I’m awesome. :D
Status: Broken. Despite the porn bots best efforts in November/December, I did not, in fact, make it to 3500. I would have had to POST something to get new followers, after all.
22) Update HaaH at least once. I will do this, no matter what.
Status: Broken. Jesus fucking Christ, I’m so bad at this.
23) Finish streaming all the new Marvel stuff with Kacchan.
Status: Broken. I was REALLY, REALLY close to caught up. Then Marvel released like 50 new movies and 500 new TV shows and I am very much giving up on this lmaooo.
24) Save up to finally buy one of those Ember heated tea mugs.
Status: Kept. My family bought me one for Christmas!
25) Do a better job of working with and representing the other disciplines in my department. I’m really good at advocating for English, but Communication and the foreign languages under my department need more support, and I need to step up for them.
Status: Kept, though mostly by necessity. All our full-time Spanish instructors retired so guess who had to help redo all the Spanish curriculum despite not speaking Spanish???
26) Use the sugar scrub Echo. Just use it. Pamperrrrrr yourself for once…
Status: Broken. It’s RIGHT THERE. Every day, I look right at it, and did I use it? Not even once.
27) Help my parents save money on their bills by consolidating their services and making some calls to retention of these companies for them.
Status: Somewhat kept? I honestly did try very hard on this one and was prevented from succeeding by my parents just being completely unwilling to change, even to save themselves money. Oof.
28) Bird watch in at least three brand new locations this year. I have a tendency to just go back to the places I know, and I’m probably missing some really great birding sites.
Status: Broken. I bird watched one brand new location this year, but alas, only one.
29) Keep up my medicine prescriptions successfully without letting them lapse.
Status: Kept. The new medicine is like the one thing standing between me and death, so I don’t usually forget it anymore lol.
30) Play with my dog and cat more often. They’re bored because I’m working too much, I know.
Status: Somewhat kept. I tried this year to cut down on the amount of work I brought home, but other situations made it really difficult to do so. My poor cat in particular definitely needs more attention.
31) Call an exterminator to finally get the ants that keep coming in from somewhere actually dealt with, instead of just spraying them with bug spray even other week and calling it good.
Status: Kept, in that the ants are gone? After I went away for the summer, there was no water running in the house, so the ants stopped coming in, and even after I came back at the end of summer, they just never came back? So I’m counting that as a promise kept?
32) This is super nerdy, but my bro got me the FFXIV cookbook and made me promise to actually use it, so I guess I’d better at least try to make something from it.
Status: Ooops. I forgot I made this promise. Broken.
33) Speaking of FFXIV: This year, I’ll obtain every in-game orchestrion roll. I’m already 80% of the way there.
Status: Broken. See, the issue with this promise is that they keep adding MORE orchestrion rolls... Not sure what I was thinking lol.
34) Get a new rose bush for the front of the Texas house and keep it alive.
Status: I did not do this. Broken.
35) Get King’s prescriptions moved to the closer vet so I don’t have to keep driving two hours away each month to get his medicine.
Status: Kept, in a sense. I was able to move his medicine over to the new vet, but unfortunately, there didn’t end up being any point to it. At the end of January in 2022, he was diagnosed with throat cancer. He lived until April 2022 and then passed away. My beloved boy...
36) Buy the Noragami volumes I am missing from my collection and do a full re-read of the series so that I can write meta about it again. Right now it just feels like there are so many things I can’t properly remember…
Status: Broken. I still greatly want to do this, but at this point, I’m kind of just waiting for the end of the manga so that I can officially catch up and re-read it from start to finish.
37) Go to Zion National Park with Derby.
Status: Kept. We hiked so much.
38) Go horseback riding on the island. I’ve never ridden on a beach before!
Status: Broken. I did not do this, RIP.
39) Eat healthier. Maybe cutting out snacks is too much to ask, but at least replace some average meals with salads, etc. and overall make an effort to actually eat better. Sometimes the fact that I feel garbage is my own fault.
Status: Mostly broken. The stress was so real this year.
40) Related to feeling like garbage: NO MORE WORKING AFTER 9PM. If it’s a real emergency, okay, but otherwise, it is time to set a boundary about working from home after hours.
Status: Broken. I must have been on crack when I made this promise, because honestly there is no way I could possibly have done the job I have without working to midnight many nights of the year... Someone save me...
41) Get a new office chair, an actual nice one, and some plastic to go under the chair to make it easier to move around.
Status: Broken. I... probably should have remembered to check in on the promises more than a few times this year because I also totally forgot this one.
42) Finish decorating the main office. I’ll feel better if my workplace reflects the level of professionalism and school spirit that I envisioned it having this year.
Status: Broken. I know exactly what I want to do with the rest of the office that isn’t decorated, I just never got around to it. T_T
43) Ensure our department successfully meets all its IEP goals this year.
Status: Kept! We were the first department to confirm completion of all goals!
44) Try to be more comprehensive with giving feedback to students. I’m always good at providing detailed comments on essays, but I’d like to spend more time commenting on smaller assignments too this year.
Status: Broken. I was trying in Spring 2022, but in fall, I was double over-loaded on courses on top of all the administrative work I had and could barely keep up grading at all, let alone give more feedback.
45) Write an FFXIV fic. Even if it’s just a one-shot, write something for this series. I need to express my love…
Status: Kept! I wrote a whole bunch for #FFXIVWrites and even received an art prize for participating! <3
46) Be more proactive about the cleaning. No more accidentally forgetting to take the trash can out to the curb. At least once a month do a full dust and vacuum of the house, not just the one room I spend the most time in (my office lol).
Status: Surprisingly, kept. I don’t really know why, but my house was somehow much cleaner in the latter half of this year. Did I unlock the secret stress cleaning routine?
47) Participate in NaNoWriMo. Even if I don’t finish, just participating again will feel great.
Status: Broken. There was zero chance I could have done this while overloaded on courses.
48) Get a screen door put on the side door of the Texas house. This really needs to happen and I can’t believe I just remembered.
Status: Broken, although not for lack of trying. I did actually have someone come to try to measure for a screen door, but it turns out the door is not a standard size and it would be way too much money to get a custom screen door made.
49) Don’t forget anyone’s birthday or any other holidays this year. (I forgot a close friend’s birthday last year due to being stressed with work and I’m still upset with myself over it.)
Status: Mostly kept. I did better this year--not perfect, but better!
50) I will keep my promises!
Status: OOF. Mostly broken promises this year. 2022 was another hard one. I’m on the struggle buss.
Kept: 16
Somewhat kept/somewhat broken: 3
Broken: 31
Good luck, 2023′s Echo!
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since twitter's dying....
here's the last bit of colby's tweets from 2019.
i don’t have proof that these are his tweets, but believe me, they are his.
if it’s bold and italicized, it’s someone’s tweet to him.
if it’s in (), that’s just me commenting lol
~~~~~~~~~~~
@/badboywolfy: Country Road gonna go down in history as a cult classic
Dec. 1 - you know it
in the middle of it all
Dec. 4 - i’ve never felt more connected to the universe than i have this past week. it’s the weirdest thing
Dec. 8 - something’s watching over me
Dec. 10 - seeing MCR perform live in 10 days and i am definitely not okay
@/andrearussett: IM SO JEALOUS
i’ll send you a video of me in the pit
Dec. 11 - i loveeee twitter (reply to someone who said something mean, i assume. bc even i back then didn't get to see the tweet lol)
i want a hairless cat
Dec. 12 - sorry truth, dyin young, demon youth
(okay from this point down, it's mostly all fans asking questions, so whatever is indented is his response)
@/ColbyBrock i hope you know that we love you a lot
Dec. 16 - and i love you all too
@/ColbyBrock how is your mental health?
Dec. 17 - you know, life always has its ups and downs and it’s been super stressful recently to be honest. but i’m happy! and that’s all that matters. things are getting better
what's the first emo song you can think of off the top of your head (the tweet said something like this, but has been deleted since)
Dec. 18 - from first to last - emily
favorite series so far
definitely the one we just filmed ! it just gets more and more intense .. i hope you’re ready
@/ColbyBrock what’s one thing you’re looking forward to in 2020 ?
focusing on positives, leaving the negative people and comments behind
(haha......... IF THEY ONLY KNEW)
@/ColbyBrock what’s ur advice for 2020
i wanna challenge people to work on spreading love instead of hate 🖤 not really advice hahah but i think the internet has turned into a darker place this past year, and i really want people to think before they speak or tweet or whatever. spread love !
@/ColbyBrock do you think you’ll dye your hair a different color soon
hahah every single day i get people wanting something different. i’ve just learned to stick with what makes me happy .. but always open to suggestions 👀👀 maybe a dark purple next ?
@/ColbyBrock do you have any plans for your birthday yet
nah. i’ve been so busy i haven’t even thought about my birthday
@/ColbyBrock do you ever get nightmares about being haunted?
all the time. my minds been fucked.. not to scare anyone but i’ve been in so many dark places and after awhile it sticks with you in a way
@/ColbyBrock do you have any regrets about past videos or are you proud of everything you’ve put out?
i’m insecure about so many videos of me on the internet i wish you all knew
(he really knows how to make me sad....)
@/ColbyBrock what do you think about us? the fandom?
i LOVE you guys. you’re hilarious. all i can ask is if people will try to get along and be kind to each other. you’re all my family, leave the negativity and mean comments behind
@/ColbyBrock you should get a dog.
ugh i wish. i wouldn’t be able to love it and care for it like i’d want to or like it would deserve
@/ColbyBrock do you ever get annoyed of us?
hahah not in the slightest. but some of you can say some pretty mean things which i try to ignore now. no point of me giving that attention ya know ?
love you all tho no matter what. say whatever you want
we love you colby and im sorry abt the mean people
it’s okay 🖤 90% of people are super nice and dope and that’s all that matters. comes with the job i guess
@/ColbyBrock are you answering questions for a youtube video but giving answers now and reading the reactions??
nope! sometimes it’s fun to just respond to as many people as i can. it’s been a while
@/ColbyBrock would you rather look at the stars or listen to the rain?
i like this. probably watch the stars with someone special
@/ColbyBrock what is your favorite thing to do on your free time? do you like to write? or anything?
believe it or not i’m kinda a loner .. i like to spend time by myself. usually just listening to music or watching dumb videos on YT
@/ColbyBrock if you could say something to your younger self, what would it be?
stop being so insecure kid , you’re okay
what's one thing we don't know about you? (or something like that)
i don’t have it all together like people think. every day is a journey to find myself, and that’s okay!
@/ColbyBrock I'm dying to know… Do you write poems?
maybe a lil here and there 🤐
@/ColbyBrock whats your advice when you’re in a kind of dark spot atm 🙈
take one step at a time. everyday needs to be a work in progress. or at least that’s what i’ve been trying lately
@/ColbyBrock did you dip
i’m about to , it’s getting late. love you all tho. was good talking
i wake up sad for no reason. why?
Dec. 21 - i think i’m gunna try to hibernate for the rest of the year i’ll let you know how it goes
Dec. 23 - i’m so much like my mom , we’re like the same person it’s weird
Really im more like my dad are u a dads boy or a moms boy for me i think ur a moms boy#loveyoucolby
definitelyyyy a mommas boy
Dec. 25 - i still sit at the kids table during christmas even though i’m almost 23 years old
Dec. 26 - you deserve the world !
Dec. 27 - sorry for your loss, im glad you’re ‘over it’.. it’s super interesting how people can choose when they wanna let go. shows you and teaches you a lot about the power of the human mind in my opinion (reply to fan)
i’m looking back at pictures of me in the trap house and damn i went through a chunky phase 🤣curse you taco bell
Dec. 28 - just watched a bunch of old VHS tapes of when i was only 1 year old .. life’s a trip i’m emotional
if i can help, that’s all i want
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3 and 10!
3: What ideas come from when you were little
Mmm… I guess it depends on what you mean by ideas? Lord knows I still have a few old fandom concepts rattling around in my brain that I want to eventually get down on paper (I am looking at YOU, SRMTHFG. I am going to do stuff with Emma mark my words.), though they’ve definitely developed and changed each time I came back to em.
If we’re talking original stuff, then yes!! I think I have like… two? three? world concepts of my own that re-purposed some of my “baby’s first ocs.” One's a cyberpunk/alien situation, one is a scooby doo lovecraftian horror thing (I. think this is technically my most developed??), and the other that isn't as developed yet has to do with dreams and dreamwalking and nightmares and fun stuff like that! I work on them on and off, though I don’t have anything super duper concrete yet, just vague plot points, a handful of put together characters and vibes.
10: Favorite piece of clothing to draw
There’s a few different pieces I like to draw, but for the most part? Any kind of comfortable and/or flowy clothing in general. Hoodies/shirts with hoods are definitely a staple, but skirts are definitely an article I really enjoy drawing with how flowy they can be. I don’t draw them as much as I would like too tho. I gotta fix that lmao
Oh yeah and chokers. I'm realizing that like, 90% of the time I always put characters in chokers if I can.
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The Queercoding of Pinky and the Brain
This originally was just me infodumping to my friends on discord, but I decided it might be interesting to some people on here, so I polished it up and made it an actual essay lmao
To start, we’re going to break this into 2 sections -- the relationship between the mice, and Pinky’s relationship with gender, because queercoding doesn’t just mean gay!
For a 90′s show, Pinky and the Brain (and its mother show, Animaniacs) was very progressive for its time! But there were still lots of things that they couldn’t slip by censors, and thus, that’s where we have to read between the lines. And that is something I wanted to clarify here before we dive in, the actual meaning of queercoding. It’s NOT the same as queerbaiting. Queerbaiting is when the people producing certain media purposefully dangle the possibility of queer representation to lure in audiences (most prominent examples are BBC Sherlock, Riverdale, and Supernatural I GUESS? who knows abt that last one anymore), but never follow through, purely for profit. Queercoding is when media producers WANT to write in queer representation, but can’t, usually because the censors won’t let them. So, they must resort to subtext. (example: the policemen from Gravity Falls) It could also be unintentional, simply assigning certain characteristics associated with the LGBT community to characters. (example: Bugs Bunny, many Disney villains) Either way, it heavily relies on the audience picking up subtext, but whether it’s malicious or not varies, depending on the media. Bugs Bunny is an example of positive accidental queercoding, while a lot of Disney villains are negative examples.
Now, to actually discuss the gay little mice! Pinky and the Brain, whether it be intentional or not (based off comments from Maurice LaMarche, Rob Paulsen, and Tom Ruegger, signs strongly point to intentional, but it’s never been explicitly confirmed), is an example of positive queercoding.
There are many moments that I could pick out to discuss here, but we’ll start with some VERY on the nose gay metaphors.
Remember Romy? If you don’t, that’s their actual biological son! Romy came about due to a cloning accident, where their DNA got combined and spat him out.
There’s SO many things I could say about Romy. Every appearance he makes has an overarching gay metaphor as the plot. His first appearance in the episode Brinky (yeah it’s literally titled their ship name), it deals with his dads (WHICH I ALSO WANT TO POINT OUT, he DOES call them both dad, and they do both call him their son) disapproving of the fact that he wants to leave home and not follow in their footsteps of taking over the world. Brain even goes as far as disowning him whenever he tells him, which is certainly something a lot of queer people can unfortunately relate to. Also seen a lot in this episode is Pinky and Brain arguing even more than a married couple than usual, which pushes Romy away even further. Later, when Romy eventually does leave, and Brain starts to regret chasing him away, he tries desperately to reach out to him, but Romy doesn’t want anything to do with him. They end up tracking him down to an apartment building, where Romy is now living with his human girlfriend. When questioned about their relationship, the girlfriend, named Bunny, goes off on a tangent about how people shouldn’t judge others based on labels or relationships (hello?), and that Brain needs to be more tolerant. Brain apologizes and Romy forgives him. Happy ending.
Romy’s only other appearance is in the comics. Essentially, the plot of this one is that Brain wants to become the president of the local high school’s PTA, but he needs Romy’s help to make it look like he has a normal home life. He also enlists the help of Billie, the obligatory Woman introduced to make sure Brain doesn’t look as gay as he actually is, that he has a crush on. She pretends to be his girlfriend, and Pinky pretends to be Romy’s uncle, while they make up the story that Romy’s actual mother was lost at sea. Because if the organization found out that Brain has a son with a MAN??? THINK of the controversy! Anyway, the plan works, and Brain actually manages to get elected as president. Throughout this though, Pinky gets WEIRDLY jealous that Brain keeps brushing him aside for Billie. To the point where during Brain’s inauguration, Pinky actually dresses up as the wife/mother lost at sea and storms into the room.
[ID: Comic panels of Pinky, Brain, and Romy on stage at the inauguration ceremony. Pinky busts into room wearing drag, saying, “Yoo hoo! I’m back from years lost at sea to be with my son and ungrateful husband! Narf!” He then hugs Romy, while glaring at Brain. He goes on to say, “I’ll stand by your side, even though you left me behind!” The people in the audience begin to question this, saying, “Oh great fuzzy bangs!”, “What’d she say?!”, “He deserted her to be with that other woman!”, “What kind of monster is he?!”. Brain then rips off Pinky’s wig and says, “This isn’t my wife! This isn’t even a woman! It’s my roommate, Pinky.” Pinky replies, “Well, yes... But Romy really is my son! Poit!” And Brain responds, “N-Nonsense! He’s my son!” More people in the audience angrily speak up, saying, “What’s that?”, “He lives with a guy who likes to dress up in women’s clothing and the both claim to be that kid’s father!”, “Grumble! Mutter!” /END ID]
Needless to say, this doesn’t end well for them. What we can conclude from this is that homophobia exists in the Pinky and the Brain universe, and our characters are directly affected by it.
Moving on, And-There-Was-Only-One-Bed is a pretty common occurrence with these two. Their cage is big, they have plenty of room for two beds, but? They choose to sleep together? Even in some times where this has been inconsistent and they DO have separate beds, they’re always RIGHT next to each other. (what if we put our minecraft beds together ❤😳)
I would like to mention the episode, You’ll Never Eat Food Pellets In This Town Again! This episode is interesting to say the least. Deals with a lot of the meta of the show. Anyway. In this episode, Brain has a nightmare that he’s in a loveless marriage with Billie. You know, the woman he’s supposed to have a crush on. In the end, he wakes up from the nightmare in the same bed as Pinky.
Speaking of female love interests, Pinky is seen having multiple relationships with characters of different species. Any time this is brought up by Brain, Pinky counters with Brain being too intolerant. An honorable mention with this is in Wakko’s Wish, when Pinky is with Pharfignewton, and Brain’s constant pestering about their relationship could be read as jealousy. Pinky needs a mousy date, after all!
Something else I would like to mention is in one episode (I forget what it’s called, I’ll try to look it up later and edit this), Brain is applying for a job. The employer asks Brain if he’s married, and Brain hesitates before saying he “has a roommate,” but that he’s occupied with his own things, which then cuts to a shot of Pinky applying lipstick.
Leading into part two of this essay, Pinky’s relationship with gender! Pinky has always been very gender nonconforming, and loves to wear dresses, do his makeup, and make himself look pretty. For the most part, this is played pretty straight, and not as a gag, like a lot of shows tend to do! It’s just a casual fact about him that he likes to present femininely sometimes.
This does play into their taking over the world plans pretty often, where Pinky wears drag, usually either to sneak into somewhere. Like in one of their earliest appearances on Animaniacs, Noah’s Lark, where they pose as a couple to board Noah’s, and I quote, “love boat.” After boarding, Noah says to himself, “Who am I to judge?” Okay. Yeah. Alright. Anyway.
I actually had less to say on this than I thought I did, but I wanted to make sure to emphasize that Pinky at the very least is coded as being Not Quite Cis, and that he’s played a key part in helping a lot of people watching the show figure out that they’re also Not Quite Cis.
Wrapping this up because I’m hungry, but I want to throw in some more honorable mentions that I really do not see any type of cishet explanations for:
They literally go on a romantic date at a very fancy restaurant in Brain’s Night Off. This is played extremely casually, and the only remark from anyone that they receive is that they are “much smaller than the usual clients.”
Pinky, on at least one occasion, daydreams about him and Brain being a married couple, and wanting to be a housewife (the original malewife ❤)
There’s an issue in the comics where Pinky has a crush on another male mouse, and when Brain gets annoyed, Pinky reassures him that he thinks Brain is cute and quite the catch too
Brain attempting to kiss Pinky in the reboot??????
Brain actually did conquer the world once in the Halloween special, because Pinky made a deal with the devil for it, and thus Pinky got sent to hell! Brain actually went to hell and gave up the world to bring him back
Brain was extremely close to conquering the world once more in the Christmas special, but after reading what Pinky’s feelings for him were (nothing romantic, just Pinky basically just praising Brain for being so hardworking and an amazing mouse, and lamenting that he never gets anything for it), he gets so emotional that he sabotages himself and wishes everyone a Merry Christmas instead
TLDR; these mice are very queer and need therapy, and are probably the most heavily queercoded characters that I can think of in children’s media.
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Nat and the House: Jameson
CW: Pet whump survivor, collar mentions, references to past pet whump, referenced ptsd flashbacks
Jake Gets Stabbed: First Second Third Fourth
“Okay, well. Here we are.” Nat opens the door for him, swinging back the heavy wood and stepping inside. The sun is warm on his back, but it drops away into a chill as he steps inside. His eyes shift back and forth, trying to bury his curiosity under a tight jaw and narrowed eyes.
The house is big, although not as big as Jake Stanton’s. It’s old, and creaky, and feels alive in a way that newer houses don’t. It’s a place that has seen so many lives move through its halls, felt so many hands on doorknobs and walls, that it’s taken in some of each person who has slept here. They’ve left something behind, and it’s the breath inside the house.
It’s the whisper of air against the back of his neck, slightly chilled, that tells him that a hundred voices have bounced off these walls, with their own pain and fear, long before his added to the chorus.
Jameson swallows, lingering in the doorway and staring ahead at a carpeted staircase that winds up and disappears around a 90-degree turn, at the coat closet just beside it. There’s a built-in shelf on the landing he can see the bottom half of, lined with photographs in small cheap dollar-store frames.
Off to one side of the entryway, there’s a big double-door-sized opening into a gigantic living room - to the other side, a dining room with a large table covered in boxes, paperwork, books, and some flannels hung from an empty china cabinet, looking still damp, drying. Beyond that, a small kitchen, he can just see the corner of the oven.
This is a house with breath. This is a house with a voice.
The house tastes like a crackling fire, the mix of heated air and chilled, melted marshmallows inside s’mores, the crunch of graham cracker and chocolate bar underneath.
This is a good house.
“Sorry,” Natalie Yoder says over one shoulder, moving ahead of him to flick a light switch. Jameson flinches, just a little, when a warm yellow bulb inside a false chandelier lights above his head. Her braid thumps against her back, a deep chocolate brown with strips of silvery white running through it. “I haven’t had anyone here in a long time, so the house is a mess. Just me these days.”
He nods, even though she can’t see him. Natalie Yoder has a good voice, too, it’s full and warm, it tastes like hot chocolate, the kind that goes light on the sugar and is just a little bitter and spiced with cinnamon. Her voice feels smooth on his tongue. He can trust people who taste like this, he thinks, and he takes another step inside.
“H-How… how long?” His voice croaks a little, it rasps. Long-term damage to his vocal chords, they said, from screaming so often for so long.
She stops and looks back at him, and there’s a gentleness in her tempered by the steel he’s already seen. She gives him a slight smile. “Long enough to speak to Dr. Berger, get you on your meds, and give them time to settle in your system. Could be a month or two to figure out exactly what’s going to work for you. Then see what happens with a couple of controlled interactions.”
He nods again. She speaks like an expert - she is the expert, he guesses, because she’s seen a hundred people like him in her life and Jameson has only ever known himself.
Not that he’s even sure he knows himself that well, most days.
He has his collar on, buckled tightly around his neck, a comfortable constriction. A reminder that he isn’t in control, someone else is, and what happens from here isn’t his fault. It’s not his responsibility, because a pet can’t be responsible for anything.
He left Jake Stanton lying on a couch’s pull-out bed because he can’t go up the stairs, pale and unconscious, and he left Allyn crying in their shared room, curled up in the closet, running their fingers over the names that Jameson carved into the wall there.
He lost control, for just a minute, of where he was and who was with him, and now…
He’s safer with the collar on.
He’s safer, controlled.
They were right - he can’t do this on his own, and he never could.
“You can choose whichever room you like, except that I keep Chris’s room for when he stays over just the same, so not that one. But there’s another three bedrooms you can use.” Nat smiles at him, moving to the stairs and gesturing for him to follow.
They creak under his feet, and the house is speaking to him, whispering here, you’re here, you’re here now in bursts of smoke on his tongue and sweet just after. He licks at his lips, looking down at ancient brown carpeting there, almost long enough to be shag.
For just a second, he sees a flicker of a bright red shag carpet in a large shared loft bedroom, a face very like his own but older, laughing as they threw balled up pieces of paper at each other. Sparkling brown eyes-
Gone-
Jameson shivers and the moment is lost, and he lets it go happily. Whatever happened to him, he has too many other problems right now to dwell on something he’s already chosen to leave behind.
“I’ll take, uh, whichever-... whichever room is closest to the bathroom,” He says, seeing an open door with the telltale tile floor and pale painted walls. She nods, gesturing to a closed door on her left. He pushes open the bathroom door and just stares, for a few long beats. “You have-... dinosaur shower curtains?”
“Oh, Chris loved that,” Nat says, looking over his shoulder briefly. She’s as short as he is, more or less, and somehow her leaning over behind him doesn’t feel quite as unsettling as when Jake Stanton does it, or anyone else.
Shit, maybe they’re all right. Maybe he’ll be safe here… and everyone else will be safe from him.
��I just kept them after he moved out. We can get new ones if they bother you, it’s not a big deal.”
“Uh, no, they’re… they’re fine. I’m going to-... put my stuff down now.” Jameson backs up and she moves away to give him space. The floor creaks softly underfoot as he moves along the hardwood in the hallway, to the closed door of the room he’s chosen sight-unseen.
When he opens it, it’s plain. Just pale walls and two twin beds on opposite sides of the room, side tables with lamps, blankets and pillows. A single framed portrait of a bird on one wall.
He looks out the window to the branches of a tree outside.
“I’m going to go downstairs and make some coffee. Want me to call for you when it’s ready?” She speaks from the doorway, calm and quiet. He loves her hot chocolate voice.
“Sure. I could… I could use some fucking coffee,” He whispers, without looking back.
“No doubt. We’ll figure this out, Jameson, I promise.”
Before she can close the door, he asks, all at once in a rush, “What if I do it again?”
She’s quiet, for a minute. Quiet for long enough his heart starts to pound, he starts to wonder if she’ll lock him in the room, or even kick him back out and tell him to start walking and figure it out on his own. He can’t go back - the last time he was on the streets, he got picked up by Robert, the time before that by Brute. His pulse beats against his collar, and he’s safe with the collar, but only if he’s kept by someone who takes care of him, who won’t hurt him worse. “To Jake?”
“Or… or Allyn. Or you, or-... fuck, anybody. What if they-... made me so I’ll do it again?”
More quiet. He hates the quiet. He wants her hot chocolate voice back. He turns, finally, to see her looking him over with a calm that goes so far beyond his own anxiety and fear, a steady surety that makes her seem more like she’s part of the house than someone who simply lives here.
She’s seen a hundred hands, too, learning not to hurt or be hurt. She’s heard a hundred voices learning to speak up, remembering how to do something other than beg for it to stop. Maybe she is the safehouse, and the building is just… an extension.
He can kind of see why the big guy likes her so fucking much.
“We’re going to do everything in our power to give you the tools you need to keep yourself and everyone around you safe.” She smiles at him, a little, lifting the corner of her mouth just the slightest bit on one side. “It won’t be easy. And it won’t be simple, or immediate. But you aren’t irredeemable, Jameson. Even if you fucked up. Does it help if I tell you I’ve had others hit me, or grab at me, when they’re in a panic and forget where they are?”
He breathes, shallow but slow. “R-Really?”
“Yeah. A half-dozen or so. I caught Chris lost in a nightmare once and he cracked me across the face with his forehead so hard I had a bruise for a week. I’ve been kicked, I’ve been hit.” She exhales, not quite a sigh, and steps inside the bedroom, moving over to one of the beds and sitting down, crossing her legs at the ankles and leaning back, resting her weight on her hands. “I ended up in the ER with a concussion once, early on. One of the ones I lost.” She looks away from him, and he sees the wrinkles in her face suddenly settle deeper, as if the weight of that old grief ages her even now. “He didn’t mean to, the poor guy. He was so scared, but I couldn’t-... I couldn’t keep him. He was so scared of himself he went back to his captor. Never saw him again.”
Jameson takes one step towards her, and then another. It’s unconscious, and he tells himself not to, but he can’t help it. “I’m-... I’m sorry for him.”
“Yeah, me too. I hope he’s doing all right, but… I suspect not. It’s… it’s hard, Jameson, to do this, and sometimes the hard feels like it’s never going to end. Sometimes, they think there’s no choice, no other way.” She looks up at him, and he sees the faintest glimmer of tears that don’t show in her voice, don’t fall down her face. “You’re thinking that, too. That maybe you were better off kept.”
The echo of his own thoughts in her low husky voice sends him reeling, and he can’t find his voice to speak at first. Finally, he manages, “Y-yeah.”
“It’s a lie. I understand why it feels like-... it’s inevitable. But I want you to know... I’ve seen this before. And you’re still better off healing than being sent back to shatter. We’re going to help you, and Kauri-... Kauri’s right, I think. You’ll be safer here for a while, and then you’ll go back and be safe there, too.”
“What if I’m not? Safer there?”
Nat Yoder’s smile softens, and she holds out her hands. She must expect him to sit next to her, because she jumps in surprise when he drops to his knees instead, and lays his head on her thighs, across her lap, feeling the rough denim of her blue jeans against his cheek.
Her hands hover, and then slowly she lowers one, and rests it, gently, over his hair.
“Then you’ll be safe here,” She says, and her voice pours over him, honeyed, deep, the hint of cinnamon and the texture of the thick liquid of his grandmother’s hot chocolate, made always with whole milk and a touch of cream.
Jameson doesn’t question the knowledge of how his grandmother made hot chocolate, and he doesn’t push it away. He just lets it exist, there and then gone a moment later.
“For how long?” Her fingers press just slightly against his temple. Her fingertips are slightly roughened, calloused from hard work. “How l-long am I safe here?”
“The same amount of time I give everyone, Jameson,” She says. “As long as you need.”
“But you said-... you don’t take in anyone anymore-”
“I’m making an exception, and I don’t do anything halfway.” She leans over, and he feels her shadow fall over him. He turns his face to press against her leg, feeling the tears start to well, clenching his eyes shut only to have them fall without his consent, to dampen her jeans.
He shudders. “I’m sorry, I’m s-sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt him-... I thought he was Brute, coming b-back, I didn’t know-”
“I know. I know you didn’t. It’s okay.”
“I know I sh-shouldn’t fucking cry-... I’m the ass-asshole who stabbed him, I shouldn’t c-cry about it, I shouldn’t-” He hitches back a sob, feels his collar catch on his Adam’s apple. It’s not enough to keep him safe. It was never enough to keep him safe.
Her voice washes warm over him, and she runs her hand through his short hair, over the filled-in bald spots shorter than the rest. “You should, if you need to. Go ahead.”
Somehow, once she says he can, he can’t stop himself at all.
Jameson kneels on the floor in a house that has seen a hundred or more people exactly like him, his body wracked with guilt and horror at what he did, what they made him, and his terror that he can’t ever take it back, that he can’t become anything other than what he was made to be.
And through the tears, she keeps one hand on his head, and when he starts to talk to her, she listens.
Outside a bird sings, a mourning dove, calling hoo-hoo, hoo, hoo.
-
@astrobly @finder-of-rings @whump-tr0pes @raigash @orchidscript @doveotions @pretty-face-breaker @eatyourdamnpears @boxboysandotherwhump @whumptywhumpdump @whumpfigure @outofangband @downriver914 @justabitofwhump @thehopelessopus @butwhatifyouwrite @yet-another-heathen @nonsensical-whump @newandfiguringitout @gonna-feel-that-tomorrow @oops-its-whump @cubeswhump @whumpiary @endless-whump @burtlederp
#whump#caretaker and whumpee#ptsd tw#collar mention#past pet whump#pet whumpee#recovering whumpee#jameson bb#natalie yoder: here to help the rescues#abuse survivor tw#referenced cycle of abuse#box boy universe#box boy#bbu
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Any thoughts on Darkman, the Liam Neeson movie? I heard it was originally going to be a Shadow movie.
I love Darkman very much, but I've realized recently that this love comes with some pretty bittersweet feelings at the story behind it.
Michael Uslan: I was going to produce a Shadow feature film with Sam Raimi, but Sam got consumed by back-to-back movies and we ran out of time. We were headed in a good, period piece direction and managed to do so without relying on yet another bout with Shiwan Khan. I later had another major director passionate to do The Shadow, but a person at the company wanted to do a modern day TV series instead, which ultimately did not go... - comment saved from a post in The Shadow Knows Facebook group
For those of you who only now got into The Shadow or don't remember, for much of the early 00s, when The Shadow basically had no current projects and Conde Nast was taking down webpages and fan content left and right, the only things that kept this "fandom" alive were occasional fanfics (many of which are gone now), and the dim light in the horizon that was the rumors that Sam Raimi was finally going to make his Shadow film. Dig back on The Wayback Machine for Shadow web page and you're gonna see this as consistently the only thing they had to look forward to in regards to the character. These rumors floated around for over a decade, at one point Tarantino was even supposed to direct it, but he confirmed in 2013 that it wasn't going to happen. At least, not with him at the helm.
The project has been dead for a while now, and Conde Nast seems to be shuffling around plans for the character, and I deleted my Facebook months ago so I haven't kept up with any news, although it seems the James Patterson novel wasn't received too well, so I'm not sure what other plans they have in the pipeline.
Back in the 1970s, after the release of Richard Donner's Superman and in line with The Shadow's pop culture resurgence, thanks to the paperback reprints and the 70s DC run, there were plans to make a Shadow feature film, and there were quite a handful of scripts being tossed around for the following years (Will Murray states most of them were horrible), several names attached to the project at one point or another. The plans died down a bit following Gibson's death and only really picked up again after the 90s, and of course we all know that the 1994 movie came out with spectacularly bad timing. From what I recall, it seems Sam Raimi wanted to make his Shadow film in the 80s, was unable to secure the rights, and then just made his own version, which would go on to be his first major motion picture.
Even after making Darkman, Sam Raimi still wanted to make The Shadow. I guess that's ultimately the bittersweet part for me. I imagine the current state of Shadow media would be significantly better if Sam Raimi, who was a fan of the character and the pulp version (and even knows of The Shadow's connection to Houdini and stage magic), got to make his Shadow film, years before Blood & Judgment, years before Burton's Batman made it impossible for a Shadow film not to be compared to it, in a time period where it wouldn't have had to compete with The Lion King and The Mask for box office. And second, I have been drawing up my plans for Shadow projects for, what, 5 years now? And I have just barely got my foot off the door as a filmmaker. Sam Raimi had a decade-long career as a cult filmmaker before he got turned down, and decades later, after becoming a household name in charge of Marvel's biggest icon, the project still fell through. It doesn't exactly get my hopes up, y'know.
I love Darkman, it's the best Shadow film that doesn't technically star the real Shadow, and it works pretty well on it's own regardless of that association, but I do get pretty sad looking at it from the outside, because I just can't help but think on what it could have been.
In some aspects I do think the film benefits from not being about The Shadow proper, because it means Raimi got the freedom to do whatever the hell he wanted. The character of Darkman already existed separately from Sam Raimi's plans for a Shadow film, already carrying off the Phantom / Universal Monster influence, and what Raimi did was basically combine the two ideas together.
He took the basic iconography of The Shadow, a terrifying urban crimefighter in coat and slouch hat, and add in other Shadow traits like his mastery of disguise, his disfigurement, and that wonderful scene where he's invisibly running circles around a panicky triggerman while laughing maniacally, a moment which definitely feels like Raimi taking a second to indulge himself to do what you can call The Classic Shadow Scene with a character he's, for the most part, succesfully convinced us (and Conde Nast's lawyers, most importantly) isn't supposed to be The Shadow.
But then he filters these through his own influences and style to make him a new character, so instead of a mysterious mastermind with lots of resources and a enigmatic background, instead he's a disfigured and psychotic scientist with a vengeance against those who made him that way. He's like Night Raven, in the sense that he's built off traits that The Shadow has, but develops them differently to the point he stands on his own as a character. It's The Shadow combined with The Phantom of the Opera, filtered through a 1930s Universal Horror lens, played for greater tragedy and a dash of Evil Dead 2 wackyness.
He hides away in trashed up ruins and bickers with a cat, he has fits of rage that make him endanger innocents, he has a doomed love affair, and sometimes he gets so batshit he gives us hilarious moments like "TAKE THE FUCKING ELEPHANT" and "SEE THE DANCING FREAK! PAY - FIVE - BUCKS! TO SEE THE DANCING FREAK!". Moments that really show why he was such a good fit for Spider-Man despite the liberties he took with the source material.
I think the big thing that helps to make Darkman works as a property in it's own right is also that, ultimately, these influences are ultimately at the forefront of it, and the core of it works on it's own. Darkman is a believable, engaging character in his own right, one who tells a story that would be more at odds with The Shadow proper.
In some aspects, Darkman tries to be The Shadow, he is forced to become The Shadow by literally picking the clothes off a dumpster after he escapes the hospital, and it's a miserable, wretched existence, in a way rather befitting his status as a legally safe knock-off. He is a creature of nightmare who lost his face and takes on a dozen others to fight crime by turning terror against them, except he is still just a man in the end, and no man was ever supposed to live like this.
Raimi was also inspired by the Universal horror films of the 1930s and 1940s because "they made me fear the hideous nature of the hero and at the same time drew me to him. I went back to that idea of the man who is noble and turns into a monster".
He originally wrote a 30-page short story, titled "The Darkman", and then developed into a 40-page treatment. At this point, according to Raimi, "it became the story of a man who had lost his face and had to take on other faces, a man who battled criminals using this power"
A non-superpowered man who, here, is a hideous thing who fights crime. As he became that hideous thing, it became more like The Phantom of the Opera, the creature who wants the girl but who was too much of a beast to have her
I decided to explore a man's soul. In the beginning, a sympathetic, sincere man. In the middle, a vengeful man committing heinous acts against his enemies. And in the end, a man full of self-hatred for what he's become, who must drift off into the night, into a world apart from everyone he knows and all the things he loves.
For the role, Raimi was looking for someone who could suggest "a monster with the soul of a man"
It's the fact that Darkman is ultimately played for vulnerability and tragedy that really sets him apart. While I wouldn't go far enough to say The Shadow is a man with the soul of a monster, still, the difference in presentation is still there when it comes to these two. The Shadow is The Other, Darkman is You. Darkman is the victim of extraordinary circumstance that affects his life, The Shadow is the extraordinary circumstance that affects the lives of others. People react to The Shadow, Darkman reacts to people (and rather poorly).
One is the man who takes off his skin (or yours, staring back at you) to reveal the weird creature of the night ready to prowl and pounce and cackle at those who think they hold power over it's domain, and the other is the monster who falls apart bit by bit until you are left staring at the broken man within who has no choice but to be something he was never supposed to be.
The Shadow is The Master of Darkness. Darkman weaponizes the dark, but in the end, he's still just a man, lost within it. Not everyone can be The Shadow, and you would most likely turn into Darkman if you tried.
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what’s poppin everyone please have this fun lil writing warmup/short story inspired by me thinking “Dancing in the Moonlight” was definitely 100% about werewolves
~*~
“So, this your first transformation?”
The counselor? Leader? Tour guide? Asked this with a perfectly jovial tone, as if the typical social mores surrounding, ugh, lycanthropy, didn’t apply to her. They didn’t know what exact title to call her, and her name tag just said “Luna”, which, reflecting on it, either was a joke on her part or a reflection of her parents’ sense of humor.
Picking at the scabs from last month, they cringed and replied, “No. Uh. Second.”
Luna lets out a low whistle. “Oof. That sucks. Guessing you got bitten rather than inherited the ol’ wolfman gene?”
“That’s...kind of personal?”
Unlocking the front door of the log cabin that served as King Harvest’s Headquarters, Luna shrugs and says, “Shit, sorry. Forgot the whole weird stigma around your source of the once monthly nightmare, as if it fuckin matters. Also, I know, I know, ass out of you and me. Hey, you got any dietary restrictions? Gluten, peanut allergies, the like?”
Voice flat, they tell her, “I’m vegetarian,” and waits for the obvious response.
As they wander through the cabin towards the kitchen, Luna flipping on the light switches, generic club music starts to filter in. Instead of the obvious response, Luna asks, “You like veggie burgers? Or maybe pasta? I’d offer salad, but that’s really not gonna cut it for tonight.”
“I ate before I came.”
With a snort, she tells them, “Oh yeah? Did you have about 4000 calories?”
“No? Why would I have?”
Sweeping out her arm, she gestures at the food laying out on the counter and tells them, “Then eat up! 4000 is really a minimum for the night if you don’t want to feel like someone physically beat out all of your energy in the morning. 6000 is more the target area, but we got, hmm, about 15 minutes before things get uncomfortable, and half an hour max before things get dire.”
They glance down to the food, and, admittedly, the broccoli alfredo does look pretty appealing. Still, they have to ask, “Is this a cult?”
Luna lets out a bark of a laugh that has nothing to do with her (maybe) being a werewolf. “Okay, first of all, what kind of cult is like ‘fuck yeah, we’re a cult’? Secondly, despite the first thing, I can say that we’re not a cult. I know how “King Harvest: Center for Movement Therapy” sounds, both clinical and vague enough to be suspicious as hell, but I didn’t come up with the title, blame my long deceased dad for that one. Plus, ‘King Harvest: Bitchin’ Wolf Dance House’ probably wouldn’t look good on the grant applications.”
“Grants?”
“Oh yeah. This bad boy’s been publicly funded since its opening in 1972. Hence no membership fees.”
“Is that why animal control is giving out your business card? Are they one of your sponsors?”
“Nah, that’s just Jack. Me ‘n’ him go way back, hell, to his park ranger days. I mean, yeah, I think he’ll campaign for us, but mostly I think he just hates capturing a wolf in the night only to have a naked, trembling human in the morning, and he knows that our program significantly reduces the odds of that happening, at least in this neck of the woods.”
They let out a hum, then glance back down to the food. As appealing as it down look, they’re still about..30% convinced this is an elaborate organ harvesting operation. Or sketchy sex thing.
Apparently sensing their hesitation, Luna says, “You got a favorite chip?”
“Salt and vinegar.”
Grabbing a sealed family sized bag from the overhead cabinets, Luna tosses it to them. “If you come back next full moon, either eat enough in advance or have a real meal here. That being said, excuse the turn of phrase, you should wolf that down. It’s sure as hell better than nothing.”
They catch it, and the bag opens with a puff of air that speaks to a reassuring lack of tampering. As they toss a chip into their mouth, Luna grabs a water bottle from the fridge and places it down next to them. “So? Any questions for me? We’ve still got about ten minutes before we have to go out there.”
Rolling their eyes, they tell her, “No. None at all.”
“Great! Soon as you’re done eating we’ll get you started.”
“I was being sarcastic.”
“Yeah, no shit, smart-ass. Seriously, what are your, we haven’t got much time.”
“I don’t know? The whole..thing? I mean, how is it supposed to..work? Like? At all?”
“You ever see Amok Time?”
“Is that relevant?”
“It’s a yes or no question babe.”
“And if I say no?”
“Then the explanation is going to be a lot more technical and take a lot longer, ultimately to likely make less sense.”
“...I’ve seen it.”
“Great! So, Pon Farr is basically this chemical blood imbalance that results in fuck or die disorder, yeah? But then Spock neither fucks nor dies, and eventually the vulcans get their shit together and find out that an intense fight can serve the same function, and the blood fever chills out. Lycanthropy operates on a similar enough basis for comparison. You’re compelled to act out on energetically heavy base instincts, returning to the ways of the wolf or whatever. Traditionally, that’s done through running and hunting, which has, historically, been a crapshoot at best. Theoretically, sex can also get the job done, but I’m sure you can imagine how that gets extremely dicey extremely quickly. Either restraints or isolation has been implemented for a while, but, c’mon, they’re bandaid solutions, and they’re far from foolproof. Luckily for us all, my grandmother decided to connect back with her ancestors, and there was a handful of stories having huge festivals to deal with ‘moon violence’. She tried it out, and, yeah, dancing works.”
“That sounds…”
They don’t know how that sounds. Made up, mostly.
“Like a bunch of hippie bullshit? Yeah, it kind of is, Grandma Josephine was a huge hippie, but it’s hippie bullshit that works. In fact, let’s go see the others, it almost always makes things clearer.”
Figuring that whatever they’re about to see can’t be worse than their transformation last month. They head through the sliding glass door out the back, the thump of the music suddenly loud enough to be felt in their chest. The sight that awaits them makes them drop their chips and let out a gasp. Barely able to speak, they exhale out, “None of them...they’re not wolves. How..how??”
Indeed, the roughly forty people jumping to the pulse of whatever they’re listening to (some to the in house DJ, some, apparently, to what’s playing over the large headphones they have adorned), resemble the image of a wolfman much more accurately. They bare claws, fangs, elongated snouts, upright ears, and serious amounts of hair, but they’re on two legs, and moving like humans. Some of them are even singing along to the lyrics, which really shouldn’t be possible.
Luna grins, making it obvious that she’s used to this level of shell shocks. “Ultimately, you do have to give into some damn rigorous instincts. But dancing is a human instinct, not a canine one, so you end up, well, humanoid. Pretty nifty, huh?”
“And they all..they all keep their minds? I didn’t...they don’t blackout?”
“Not since we banned alcohol in the 90s! Here, watch this.”
Luna nods her head at the DJ, and the DJ, obligingly, turns down the music for a moment. The members of the crowd not listening to their own music pause, then look towards the door. She cries out, “Hey gang! HOW WE ALL DOIN’ TONIGHT?”, and gets a mix between a howl and “WOO!” cried back. The DJ then turns the music back up, and the general movement of the crowd resumes.
They should be more skeptical. They want to be more skeptical, they were just minutes before, but it’s hard to disagree with something right in front of you. “This will work for me? I just..have to dance?”
“Well, it’s not guaranteed. Few things are. But we have yet to have someone turn violent on us. If you start to fell yourself slipping from consciousness, though, I do ask that you start heading further into the woods, as to not hurt other guest. If you find yourself just getting tired, there’s beds inside, and a fair amount of pillows around the edge of the quote unquote dance floor, if you end up in more of a nesting mood. Also, I recommend taking off your shoes before you start.”
“What? Why?”
Luna gives a pointed glance at the dancers’ feet, which, ah. They’re about twice as large as normal and at least twice as sharp. The converse on their feet would be no match. “Ah.”
“Ready?”
They shove off their shoes and place the remainder of their chips aside. “As I’ll ever be.”
Good thing, too, as they’re starting to feel an uncomfortable pressure in their chest that was the prelude to disaster last month.
Luna strides to the center of the dance floor, which is really a plush lawn surrounded by forest. The crowd naturally moves around her, and she yells out, “Aiyana! Play my song!”
Aiyana gives a nod, and the opening notes of “Dancing in the Moonlight” start to sound out. “Seriously?”
Luna shrugs, grinning like a fool, and says, “It’s a classic!”
“It’s cliché at best.”
Luna shrugs, and then begins dancing. She’s hardly elegant, but she is dazzlingly joyful in her uncoordinated movements. As the song reaches the first chorus, she gives a twirl, and in the split second it takes, she’s transformed. They blink in shock, not knowing you could transform that seamlessly, that quickly, that painlessly. Luna in half wolf form is just as expressive as the human Luna, and she gives a nod over her shoulder as if to say Come on.
Feeling somewhat foolish, they start to bop their head to the tune. Luna lets out a huff and grabs their hands, spinning them around and forcing them to get moving. At first, it’s them indulging Luna, but as they let themselves get lost in rhythm, they feel a stretching sensation in their face and limbs. It’s not unpleasant, more like when you wake up and work out the tension in your spine. They open their eyes and look down at their hands, now covered in fur in and made for slashing. It didn’t hurt. It didn’t hurt, and they’re still themselves, and they had no idea that full moons could be like this, maybe for the rest of their lives.
They turn their head to the night sky, and their body can’t help but continue to dance. Despite all their fear, all their dread, “movement therapy” worked, and they can admit, at least to themselves, that they feel warm and bright.
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Girl’s Talk
Natasha Romanoff x Carol Danvers
Word count: 1.5k
Summary: Kamala is introduced to Yelena, and she’s also the biggest fan of her sister’s ship- CarolNat.
Warning: Fluff, Protective Yelena, Kamala ships CarolNat, Slight Thor/Loki(mentioned)
a/n: Just random pieces written after having my covid vaccine yesterday lol I’m not sure how will Marvel deal with Kamala’s superpower in the upcoming series so I only mention a bit of it. Enjoy!
/
“Ok, can anyone tell me why we always have a new kid in the compound?”
Yelena puffed as she entered the compound a bit later than usual, and she saw her sister, Carol and an unfamiliar teenager already standing there.
She came over to join them, gazing at the new girl with distrust.
“Yelena, did you just call yourself in the third person?” Carol teased, and she shrugged suggestively to the redhead who actually couldn’t hold her laugh back for this moment.
“Ha, is it some kind of 90’s joke?” Yelena retaliated. Apparently the younger blonde didn’t get enough sleep hours last night, it always resulted in her grumpy reactions to anybody. “If so, Captain, you really need to update your comedy list on Netflix.”
“Hey,” Natasha chuckled amusedly between the two blonde women as Carol protested, “just because I aged slowly, it didn’t mean I’m out of date.”
“In case you wanna know,” Natasha raised one brow and showed her support to the blonde Captain- “She actually likes to watch The Tonight Show during our dinner time.”
-by telling their sort-of secret aloud. It’s not gonna harm the redhead spy herself, though.
“What?” Kamala finally had a chance to let out her voice, “you can’t tell me the mighty Captain Marvel, my idol, watches late-night talk shows when having some spaghetti. It’s simply out of character.”
Carol frowned, “excuse me?”
“Ugh, ok.” Yelena opened her mouth with hesitation. “No, not ok, I don’t get it. Did you just call her- ” her head was pointing to the other blonde woman, “- your idol ?”
“Am I supposed to feel offended?” Carol mumbled nearby Natasha’s ear, lowering her voice to avoid any foreseeable conflict for now.
“Um, yeah.” Kamala rolled her eyes to the much taller woman standing right in front of her, and her voice sounded genuinely fearless. “Can’t you see that? She’s Carol Danvers!”
Natasha grinned back at the blonde woman, and only teased quietly, “see, someone really has a crush on you.”
Carol blushed in the tiniest way, opening her mouth slightly but had no idea what to argue. Our Captain couldn’t even tell if the redhead was seriously jealous. Fantastic.
“So you like the name or the glowing part?” Yelena hummed, and tried to hide the little noises from her stomach out of hunger.
“All of them, I guess?”
“Oh, I got it now.” The younger widow turned to her sister, and was not surprised that Natasha had been checking on her already. “We’re having a superhero fan tour here.”
Yelena wanted to get her breakfast as soon as possible, so she tried to be nice and not to get involved in this duty. “Enjoy your day then, just don’t touch any fluffy things around here. The cat can literally swallow people, and the raccoon will shoot you in the head.”
“What? No!” The brown haired girl shouted, “I’m not here for a tour.”
“Yelena, she’s a new member in the team- ” Agent Romanoff finally introduced, and took a quick glance at Carol with a playful smile. “- another one with super power, yes.”
“…wait, what?”
“Not that kind of power to control thunder like Thor or to trick like Loki- by the way, aren’t they a lovely couple?” Kamala explained a little bit, and suddenly changed the subject triggered by her interest.
“Ugh, it’s not officially announced.” Natasha was surprised to hear the little girl’s words, a status that not many people had learned about- even in the avengers’ team.
Impressed. Yelena stared at the kid and thought, still needed her breakfast, though.
“New kids.” Carol shrugged, “we’re actually talking about tomorrow’s mission.”
The redhead immediately started glaring at the blonde Captain.
“You’re leaving for days? Tomorrow?” And Yelena tiled her head to her older sister. She’d better not be the last person to know this.
Clearly someone had forgotten their domestic plan for tomorrow.
“Well, not ‘for days’, I’ll be back before you know it. At least that was the plan.” Natasha looked a bit…nervous, but not speechless. By her side, the Captain who’s in charge of the mission seemed to be awkward for a minute, and they shared a look of silent communication.
“Yelena, you’re welcomed to- ”
“Uh- uh, no. I’m not interested in being the third wheel in your mission date. Besides, I’ve got my own thing to deal with as well. Just remember to pick me up at 8, and feed Fanny before you leave the house, it’s your turn.” Yelena shook her head quickly like nothing’s gonna convince her, and the other young superhero goggled upon hearing some keywords.
“Wait, you two are dating? ” Kamala asked in excitement, “oh my god, CarolNat is real.”
“Well, it’s- we’re…” the blonde Captain suddenly stuttered, “we’re close, yes. That’s true.”
Natasha rolled her eyes back to show her feedback towards Carol’s explanation, and refused to make any eye contact with her sister who just accidentally sold their privacy to the newest avenger.
“Oh, I thought that was your superpower.” Yelena shrugged to the two older women, kind of feeling sorry for the coming out declaration she made for them. “Like, telling the lovebirds in a group of people.”
Kamala gave her a ‘seriously?’ look, “nobody owns a superpower like that.”
“You never can tell.”
“Ok, things got a little tense here.” Carol tried to calm them both down before they made a wrong impression on each other. “It’s time for breakfast, how about I make you guys some really nice omelette?”
“Oh God.” Natasha sighed exaggeratedly, but she didn’t deny the purpose. When Carol turned, she just pushed her sister’s shoulder and forced the younger blonde to follow. “C’mon Yelena, you love eggs.”
“I never said that.”
“Wow, Captain Marvel is making me an omelette…am I dreaming?”
“Never had a nightmare before?”
“Yelena!”
*
“So…”
A half hour later, Yelena was staring at her plate and trying to figure out why it’s not like a normal ‘omelette’ she had seen on television. “In what universe an omelette looks like this?”
“Well, it’s not that bad.” Natasha took a bite of hers, perfectly ignoring the fact that it resembled more scrambled eggs rather than an omelette.
“Stop being rude- ”As they both saw Carol and Kamala on their way to the table, Natasha squeezed her sister’s hand and ordered softly, “and tomorrow I promise to buy you the expensive tweed coat you always stare at in the display window.”
“Huh, it’s exactly why I really can’t stand to undergo a mission with you two. Deal.” Yelena sounded mockingly but she didn’t mean to embarrass her anyway. “You turned weak, Natasha. You knew it, right?”
Natasha only hummed in russian as a response (something like ‘you’d know that when we spar’ ), and grinned when Carol sat next to her as usual. The blonde Captain was finally done with cooking everyone’s breakfast and Kamala had surprisingly finished hers, only sipping a glass of apple juice.
“So, how did you meet?” Said Kamala, aka the newest avenger with extraordinary attention to the secret pairs around the base, “how long have you been dating- I wanna know the whole story.”
“Here we go.” This was the best reaction for Yelena to ‘stop being rude’.
“Well, first of all, I won’t deny or admit any statement of it…” Natasha cleaned her throat and started, her sweet butter sandwich was left on the plate.
“We’re apparently colleagues.” Carol promptly interrupted with a shrug, which made the redhead widen her green eyes in disbelief.
“I met her after the snap, and during the five years, the feelings just kinda grew on us.” The blonde smiled gently as she took Natasha’s hand, “after the end of the war, we started hanging out once a month like normal people, later on it began to be once a week as my main works in space were separated to the new-trained protectors and the Guardians. That’s it.”
Kamala was literally speechless, looking like she just got the best Christmas gift for this year.
“If you kiss her like those cliched soap operas now, I’m gonna kill you both.” Yelena did like the eggs, but obviously she wouldn’t say it. Instead, she ate it up and mumbled her statement after hearing the shorter version of their romance.
“Yelena.” Natasha raised one of her brows, reminding her who’s in charge on this table. And their deals .
“Alright, just kidding.”
“Can I take a picture when you do that?” Kamala immediately stood up and asked Carol, it seemed no one actually cared about the debriefing of tomorrow’s mission anymore. “-when you kiss Black Widow.”
Her Captain was flushed, “w-what?”
To save her partner from the short circus situation, Natasha rolled her eyes and pulled Carol’s arm all in a sudden. All Kamala could do was open her mouth widely in amazement, and tried hard not to scream like a fan who was completely out of control.
Natasha left a rough kiss on the corner of Carol’s lips, her blood red lipstick stained slightly on it.
“Satisfied?” She said with an impeccable grin, leaving the flummoxed blonde behind her.
“This place is harmful for my heart.” - the newest superhero from Jersey City claimed.
“You’re gonna get used to it, kid.” - and the former widow from the red room finally agreed with her.
“I should have stopped leaking the key information.” - the blonde Captain knew it deeply that Natasha’s not gonna take it easy on her tonight.
#carol danvers x natasha romanoff#captain marvel#black widow#carol danvers#natasha romanoff#carolnat#kamala khan#yelena belova#brie larson
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Dreams, Chapter 11
If you haven’t read this series before, you might want to start on Chapter 1, or check out the Dreams Masterlist! Here’s the series description:
When Dean dies for good leaving Sam and his girlfriend (the reader) behind, they must figure out how to carry on without him. Alone, reeling, and unsure what to do next, trying to honor Dean’s memory and follow their hearts gets even more complicated when their nightmares become dreams that feel a little too real.
Title: Dreams, Chapter 11
Pairing: (past) Dean Winchester x Reader, (eventual) Sam Winchester x Reader
Word Count: 2616
Summary: Another dream makes things more clear for the reader and less clear for Sam.
Warnings: angst, fluff, swearing, s l o w b u r n
The booths are those plastic-coated pressboard swoops that are so easy to clean, one row down either side of the long room once you walk past the counter to order. Like other pizza places, there are red pepper flakes and grated parmesan on the table, but they also keep ranch dressing in a minifridge behind the counter as a concession to Midwestern sensibilities. You know you’re just outside Dayton just like you know the pizza shop is run by a family, father and two older teenage daughters deftly throwing dough and scattering cheese evenly over it in a way that shows their years of practice. Dean sits across the table with his elbows on it, one forefinger and thumb picking through a plate of nachos between you. His black t-shirt, amulet, and lack of flannel make you notice the hum of the air conditioner in the background, straining over the 90’s alternative radio and reminding you that you’d been here in a heat stroke the summer after you and Dean had gotten together, his golden freckles and lightened tips of his slightly messy hair underlining the memory.
“They don’t serve nachos here.” It’s half statement and half question.
“Babe, it’s your dream. They’ll serve whatever you want. Does the pizza suck in Wisconsin or something?”
The two sisters are whispering to each other as they look over at your table, an almost-argument that ends with who you suspect is the older sister poofing a pinch of flour into the other’s face. They’re both cute girls but she’s adorable, soft cherubic cheeks and messy bun piling impossibly glossy hair on her head as she walks over to the table with a gigantic pizza. “Can I get you anything else?” she asks in a perfect welcoming cheerleader pitch.
“I think we’re good for now, sweetheart,” Dean purrs with a wink. That you remember; you’d playfully chastised Dean for dazzling the teens, laughing in his face when he’d said it wasn’t on purpose, that he couldn’t help it if chicks dug him. The wink had proved your point then and now it makes the girl’s cheeks flush red.
She catches herself remarkably well, the stammer almost slipping under the radar as she assures you that you can “holler if you need anything!”
Dean brushes his fingers free of nacho debris and loosens a piece of pizza from the melting cheese of the ones next to it. “Last time you had all kinds of sweet nothings and questions for me and now you’re Silent Cal?”
“I don’t think this is real, but I’m pretty sure if I push it you’ll either die in this dream or I’ll wake up, so my plan is to stay here as long as we can.”
He drops the pizza back into the box and wipes off his fingers on a napkin before slouching into the booth, arm stretched across its length. “So test me then. Gimme a question only I would know or something.”
“Well if I ask you something that I know the answer to, my brain will just project you knowing it. See the problem?”
Dean squints and pouts in consideration, touch of a smile dancing across his face and if it isn’t the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen may you be struck dead right now. “Then ask me something you don’t know the answer to.”
You think about explaining how that too could just be some part of your subconscious recreation of Dean but you don’t want to keep pulling at loose strings in the event that it wakes you up. It’s too hard to keep from smiling, seeing Dean charming and relaxed like this, and when you grin it makes Dean bite his lip. “What’s something I don’t know the answer to?”
“Ah, ah—I thought I’m just a hologram, how would I know?”
“Projection, but okay,” you stall. “Wait, here’s one. Sam said when I first started going on jobs with you guys that you had to have a conversation about staying focused. What was that all about?”
He runs his tongue along the inside of his lower lip. “Man, why would he tell you that?” he says under his breath, smirking mostly to himself before leaning forward to meet your eyes. “Fine. I’m not even sure that you’re going to remember this. There was a vengeful spirit in Indiana, some like homesteader guy, ring a bell?”
You have only the vaguest sense of recollection and sort of waggle your head to show it.
“It was way at the beginning of when you started coming on jobs with us. You and Bobby got into it because he wanted you to bring your own car so you could ditch us if we were ‘acting like cretins’ or some shit like that?”
That fits the last puzzle piece in for you and makes you chuckle. “He ended up giving me like $250 of mad money in case I needed a new room or a bus ticket, yeah. I remember.”
“I didn’t know that part but that’s gotta be the same trip. The whole thing was really stupid. Basically we were supposed to have your six but both me and Sammy wanted to carry a shotgun instead of doing that protection spell because it looked cooler. We were arguing about it when the spirit whipped a chunk of the barn’s scaffolding at you and we didn’t catch it in time. You heard it coming and ducked so nothing ended up happening, but it fucking demolished the wall behind you. It was a huge fuckup—thing could’ve taken your head clean off, you know? Sam was so broken up about it he was wasted for like a week solid after we dropped you back off at Bobby’s.”
“Really? That doesn’t sound like him at all.”
“I know, usually he does some kind of pouty baby bullshit. But I mean both of us felt really guilty that bitching at each other could’ve taken you out.”
Dean’s eyes rake over your face, seeming to linger over every inch like he’s going to draw a topographical map of it later by memory. You can tell he’s waiting for you to say something but you can’t think of anything other than tracing each of his freckles where they dust across his nose.
A hand reaches over the table to run his fingertips along the back of yours, and that certainly feels real enough to send an ache into your gut. “What if you ask Sam? If he says that’s not what happened then you can keep saying I’m not real and you don’t have to listen to me.”
“But he already basically told me that. The only thing I probably wouldn’t have guessed about that is Sam getting drunk about it—these could’ve been just well-informed guesses about when it probably was or the kinds of things it seemed like he was implying.”
His lips press into a firm line and the barest touch of pink rises in his cheeks. “We, um, we pinky swore on it.”
The adorableness of his embarrassment makes you grin teasingly as much as the divulgence does. “A pinky promise? You guys must’ve been pretty serious to take such a sacred oath.”
He rolls his eyes at your ribbing and throws his hands back in his lap with a defeated smirk. “Laugh it up. Would that be good enough proof for you?”
It seems like Dean has figured out a loophole in the system, but you’re sure the light of day and Sam’s scrutiny will figure out why it isn’t actual evidence of communication with Dean beyond death, and you tell him that.
A curtain of suspicious confusion falls over Dean’s face. “Sam being weird about it is what’s keeping you from trusting this? Kid, I’ve been talking to Sa—”
And you woke up.
The bed was empty next to you but you could smell something sweet in the air and hear the light clinking of pots or pans Sam was trying his best to keep quiet. You blinked back a few tears of frustration—who even cared if it was real or not? Reliving a great memory with Dean was more than enough and instead of enjoying it you’d wasted a chance at some small respite from your constant ache of grief. And even then, you hadn’t used any of your time to figure out how the whole thing worked, how you could see him again.
But the most pressing issue was what you thought Dean had been trying to say before disappearing; that he had gotten through to Sam. Sam, of course, deserved to have secrets, but if he had been sitting on the resolution to all the angst you’d been struggling through in the last weeks (months?), you couldn’t imagine a reason why that wouldn’t hurt. Nothing would be solved by laying in your bed to sulk about it, though, so you threw on some clothes and went to brush your teeth.
When you came out, Sam was hunched slightly, the standard stove highlighting his decidedly non-standard height as he shuffled a pan’s handle. He had a dishtowel over his t-shirt clad shoulder, a habit from the bar that sometimes held over when he was in the kitchen at home, and bare feet under old jeans. They were wearing through at the knees, and you knew they were absolutely pajama-soft from having periodically thrown them in with your own laundry. Through the kitchen window, enough snow-brightened sunlight came into the room to cast him in a halo glow that gleamed off of his hair. As long as it had gotten, chunks still swept into his face as he looked down at the stove, and he tucked one behind his ear as he looked up, half-singing a Buddy Guy song that was playing softly. It was stunning—he was stunning, statuesque and strong and right there in front of you. Cooking you breakfast while you slept in, of all things, chocolate chip pancakes he had to have remembered were your favorite from ages ago. You couldn’t even remember the last time you’d had them and right now, nothing in the world sounded better. He beamed and tilted the pan toward you. “Morning! I made pancakes, you want some?”
And you should’ve just let the moment rest, sat in the rare bright winter morning and eaten chocolate chip pancakes and relished how well the boiler was working, maybe later in the day read a predictable murder mystery or taped off the living room to be painted and listened to REM until your shoulders were sore from running rollers up the walls all afternoon. Instead, about as stupid and weird a flop as if a toad had come out of your mouth, you said, “Have you been talking to Dean too?”
Sam’s face fell but not in the right way. There was too much angle in his brow and that confirmed it. “What?” he asked, but it didn’t land.
“How long have you been talking to Dean?”
He kept that curious smile for a second, like maybe he could push through by playing dumb and you would forget, but finally his lips flattened and his jaw clenched as he stacked a finished pancake on top of its predecessors. “Just because I’m having dreams about him doesn’t mean it’s really him,” he finally answered, softly and as though he was telling the bubbling pancake batter in front of him, unable to meet your eyes.
You felt the lump forming in your throat and tried to get the words out ahead of its solidifying. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“For what?” He let go of the pan and turned toward you, supporting his weight on the countertop. “So we can both—”
“Both what? Be delusional? Is that what you were going to say?”
Sam didn’t answer, but the set of his jaw was firm and he kept his eyes locked on yours.
“He told me you were drunk for a week after the hunt you were talking about.” You watched as Sam’s pupils widened a touch. “And that you didn’t just promise each other to buckle down, you pinky swore.” Sam’s Adam’s apple jumped in his throat. “It’s true, isn’t it? I can see in your face that it is. Did you already know it’s really him?”
He looked down at the floor and clenched his jaw. “I was pretty sure. Or at least I really hoped I was pretty sure.”
You felt more than consciously allowed your mouth’s falling open. “How? How long?”
“It just—I don’t know, it just felt different. I—uh, the first time was after we made those cupcakes; he asked about the cupcakes.”
You slumped against the countertop opposite him, speechless. He shoved the pan off the hot burner a little too hard, put a palm on either side of the stove to brace himself. The two of you stood like that for a long minute, the smell of chocolate not matching the stiff heaviness in the air at all.
“I don’t—what if it’s not real?” His throat sounded bound even though you couldn’t see his face, hulking mass of him spread across the tiny kitchen.
He seemed so defeated, so young, and then you couldn’t believe how selfish you’d been, not putting two and two together that something challenging Sam’s grip on or understanding of reality must shove him back to the brain melting torture he’d endured in the cage and the months—years, maybe, he was always so tight-lipped about it—afterward. What the fuck were you thinking, not seeing it before, how this could seem like a perfectly laid trap for Sam, the most poetic way to whip his mind into stiff peaks of meringue. It made so much sense why he would need time to really suss it out, see the situation from all angles and investigate, check and re-check. Tears pricked the corners of your eyes but you blinked them away. This was not about you or your complicated need for him, it was about Sam, what he’d been through, what he was likely putting himself through even now.
“The, um, the pancakes smell really good.”
“Yeah?” There was half a laugh behind his words, humorless as it was. “I hope they’re okay, I know they’re your, uh, your favorite.”
“I’m surprised you remembered.”
Sam leaned on one arm to rub his face with his other hand. “Yeah, well.”
“Can I help?”
After a beat, he stood up and offered some space next to him on the stove. You worked hip to hip, sprinkling the chocolate chips while Sam flipped. He was scraping the last of the batter into a last little runt pancake with a spatula when you couldn’t help yourself and wrapped your arms around his waist. He seemed surprised, if sad, before setting down the bowl and covering as much of you as he could, folding over you like a protective shell. It reminded you of that dirty motel room, months and months ago, when Sam held you together as you cracked in his arms. All he could do then was be steadfast in reminding you he was still there, if nothing else was, and you hoped you were able to give him the same now.
You silently laid two place settings on the kitchen counter while Sam set the food out. He sat next to you and had picked up his fork when you touched his wrist to still him. “If it’s not real for you then I’m losing it too.”
Sam thought for a second, then raised his forearm and kissed the back of your hand where you held onto him before cutting into his pancakes.
-
Continue to Dreams, Chapter 12
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Starkid Rewatch: The Guy Who Didn't Like Musicals 🎼
Finally we have reached the hatchetfield series
My paulkins brain is ready let's gooo
I'm that one lady in the audience who's genuinely jamming out to the intro
Thinking back to how the intro was just foreshadowing the ending and that Emma gets infected too
🎶what an ass, what a bitch, what a cuuuuuuuuck🎶
I love how every musical with them has lauren and robert having a cute dance number
Paul was clearly set up to be the asshole character but we all chose to love him so they just went along with it
LATTAY HOTTAY ☕
Does she know i would die for her
I have very low blood sugar
Paulkins interaction here we go
Knowing that ted is the homeless man...
I don't know how it changes things here but somehow it just does
Reluctant friendship hcs for paul and green peace girl come through
Once again: props to June saito for understanding the duality of lesbian fashion
Hey it's everyone's favorite murder grandpa
Oh, look a new blouse
Pitch perfect whomst?
I love that for Bill it's never a question of alice being gay..it's never really that big of a deal. He just does not like deb
He even suggests other girls for alice
Its just really comforting for me to watch it be normalised so sweetly
Lah...dee...DAH. DAH. DAY?!
I will 100% believe this is the man behind the paul clones. He is so fucking unhinged look at him
🎶black coffee, I'm your coffee gal- NOOOOO!!!!!
He has to bend to half his height to meet her eye level i love them
Promise me you'll think about the implications!!
Jaime had no business being this hot during cup of poisoned coffee
They're constantly just holding hands or reaching out for each other it's too cute
YOU GRABBED THE WRONG ONE, YOU NOODLE!
The purest friendship
Ted casually jamming out to Robert's dance
[alien/turkey noises]
His brain fell out
Who is it? Professor hidgens! Don't lie to me whoever you are, I'm professor hidgens!
This is paul and...them
I'm going to...kick your...head
Iconic
Get you someone who looks at you the way paul looks at emma
Or even the way emma looks at paul really they're both equally soft
The biggest plot twist would have been if Paul had been the one to crash Jane's car
FUCK CLIVESDALE
So I guess I'm the supervillain? I don't think of you like that at all emma
I'm soft for them
Jaime i love u
Seriously her voice 😯
Jeff just jumping around while jaime sings like a goddess honestly same
Anyways paulkins are being all adorable in the background
I love how they're just screaming out for bill like fuck ted
I shot a charle-ton
Appreciate his jokes please
SING THE BEGINNING OF MOANA
The best starkid song honestly
Can we talk about how paul remembered most of the lines? Like emma and ted were just repeating whatever he said and bill was fucking singing the circle of life
Ted's voice cracking
I just realised he's sitting directly in front of charlotte's body and I know he's 90% an asshole but this fucking scene man
Like he cares just a little and we can all see it how he's trying to keep whats left of his friends from dying too
Honestly joey's acting here gets me
Height difference™
When he said "I respect her choices but..." I honestly initially thought some homophobic crap might follow but bill you absolute angel
He did not dissapoint
Bill Woodward 🤝 Steve harrington
If you get what I mean
(team i have no issue with you being a lesbian but please have better taste in girls)
Fancasting for denise or angela to play grace chastity in NPMD
Corey's expressions in this scene honestly breaks my heart
He just wanted to save his daughter 😔
prove it asshole, we're the army
he boop
WEAR A WATCH ⌚
I'm authorising you to use my firearm
Hidgens and mcnamara are both dramatic gays but with completely opposite energies
[foot sweep]
The way he skip-runs across the stage
Draco would be proud
For a 63 year old he can really work those hips
The audience losing their shit
Should I take this chair? I'll get the piano
The light slowly turning red as infected!mcnamara smiles
The audience slowly realising what the lyrics mean
Honestly iconic
One of my favorite moments in the show
So the last thing paul ever told emma was "byeeeee"?
Nah fuck that they both survived and are living happily in colorado running their pot farm
What ending?
The theatre being Paul's worst nightmare and starlight theatre being the place where he's killed, and starlight also being miss holloway's nightmare time? Methinks he might be her descendent of some sort
Watch out paul, he might kick your head
Mr. Davidson didn't want to be a mindless alien slave! He wanted to be choked by his wife!
Starkid stroking their villain takes a whole another level here huh
Jon slipping between normal talking to singing after every other word is pure talent
All jokes and paulkins related angst aside the ending is actually really amazing for a multitude of reasons
1. Inevitable is an absolute masterpiece of a song and it ties in all the previous songs that were there in the show
2. It provides context to the intro song (its all a fucking loop babey)
3. We get this one final moment of softness
4. Emma's scream perfectly harmonises with the ending of inevitable
5. It spectacularly breaks the 4th wall for the second time and integrates the audience as characters in the show
6. They never once break character through the whole thing
7. It proves once and for all that the hero of the story was never paul, it was emma. paul was just the final villain
That being said I am happily going back deep down in denial-town. You can find me drowning in a bucketload of paulkins fluff fics goodbye
#the guy who didn't like musicals#tgwdlm#starkid#starkid rewatch#thoughts#mine#jon matteson#lauren lopez#paulkins#robert manion#joey richter#mariah rose faith#jaime lyn beatty#june saito#corey dorris#jeff blim#nick lang#matt lang#denise donovan#angela giarratana#kim whalen#emma perkins#henry hidgens#paul matthews#ted spankoffski#alice woodward#bill woodward#jane perkins#grace chastity#john mcnamara
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Welcome Home (Part One)
(NOT MY GIF)
Summary: After not speaking to her brothers for over a year, Peyton Rhodes’ life is turned upside down when her boyfriend of four years cheats on her. She uproots her life with WWE and returns home to Atlanta. She finds herself among great friends and she is finding herself again after being lost for so long.
WORD COUNT: 2,624 (well shit).
Pairings: Cody Rhodes x OFC (Sister), Brandi Rhodes x OFC (sister), Dustin Rhodes x OFC (Sister), past Seth Rollins x OFC, future Kenny Omega x OFC (maybe?), MJFx OFC( maybe?) Could end up being Matt Jackson x OFC (who knows) let the writing gods surprise us.
WARNINGS: explicit language, mentioned cheating, possible future smut (Warnings are subject to change as I continue writing and will be updated as needed).
A/N: This has been a WIP for over a year now. This will be multiple parts. It will be a slow burn. (MAYBE) I’m a sucker for the friends to lovers trope. Please do not think that this reflects my feels toward a certain wrestler (Seth). This story is strictly fiction. I do not own any of the characters except for my OFC(s). Please, please, please, give me feedback. I’m slowly working myself back into the fanfic world. <3
“Cody was right.” I cried as soon as my brother’s wife answered the phone. I hadn’t spoken to my brothers since they left WWE. Cody was upset that I wouldn’t leave with him. Brandi was my way of communication with them. She’d call at least twice a week. This week was different.
“I caught him. I went to congratulate him after his win over Finn and they were,” I sniffled, hurt coming over me again. “It was Mandy. I thought she was my friend.” I explained to my sister in law.
“Pey, I am so sorry. Please come home. You know AEW has a spot for you whenever you want it.” Brandi offered. It was the same thing she said to me every week, but now I’m ready.
“I just don’t know why.” I cried. “I was the perfect girlfriend. I basically put my career on hold for him. I thought he was, I thought he was it for me.” Brandi had said that they were going to be home for Cody’s birthday in a few weeks and invited me to come to the party.
“I’ll talk to Hunter.” I choked out.
Luckily, my contract was almost up and as soon as Vince heard I didn’t want to re-sign, he settled for my release. We didn’t have the best relationship, but Hunter advocated for me stating that it was best for the company as well as myself. He knew the situation and didn’t blame me for wanting to go.
I knew I had to go back one day. I just never thought it would be this soon. I parked my car in the drive. I could hear Pharaoh announcing my arrival before I could make it to the door. I made my way up the sidewalk to the porch. I took a deep breath and knocked.
Brandi opened the door immediately. “Well I'll be damned.” She said, “I can’t believe you came!” I smiled, embracing my brother’s wife.
“Like I would miss my big brother’s 35th birthday.” I lied and she knew it. If Seth hadn’t cheated on me, I wouldn’t be here.
Brandi led me inside where there were some guests who had gathered in the foyer. Brandi introduced me quickly, leading me through to Cody. “Hey, babe. Your surprise is here.” Cody, who was standing by the fireplace, talking to Dustin, turned and saw me.
Awkwardly, I raised a hand to wave. “Hi.” I whispered. Cody sat down his drink and walked over to me. I expected him to cuss and yell, but instead, he threw his arms around me, hugging me tightly.
“Peyton, I'm so happy you’re here.” He whispered. Dustin came up behind him.
“Long time, no see sis. You know, they invented this thing called a phone. You should look into it. Call your big brothers sometime.” Dustin fussed before hugging me too.
“It is really good to see you guys.” I tried to hold back the tears, but some escaped anyway. “How have you been? AEW has really taken off huh?” I said making small talk.
Cody nodded, “Yeah, I have the best business partners. I can’t wait for you to meet them.” Looking at my brother, he was truly happy. WWE had given him a few more stress lines, but seeing him now, you couldn’t tell.
He grabbed my hand, pulling me to follow him. He led me to Matt and Nick Jackson, standing with Kenny Omega and Adam Page. “Guys! Guys! Look who decided to show her face.” Cody beamed, smiling big. The four guys waved.
“Finally! We get to meet the prodigal sister.” Kenny Omega spoke first.
“Peyton, these are the guys.” Cody pointed to each of them. “Matt. Nick. Kenny. Adam.”
“Nice to meet y’all finally. I watch your show every week. You are all very talented.” They all mumbled a “thank you” in tandem.
The rest of the evening went by smoothly. We all sat and talked. Getting to know The Elite was amazing. It was almost as if I hadn’t been AWOL for a year and a half. When the party was over, I was helping Brandi clean up.
“Pey, you don’t have to help. You’re a guest.” She said, grabbing the glasses from my hands. I shook my head.
“I’m family. And family helps.” I smiled, taking the glasses back and continued to the kitchen. Cody walked in behind me with plates.
“Hey,” he started, “Thank you for coming.” He finished, placing the plates in the dishwasher. I added my glasses.
“I’m sorry.” I blurted out, turning to face him. Cody looked at me, confused. “I should have left with you. You were right about that place. My career, my relationship, everything, became a shitshow after you left.” tears began to fall.
“Pey, it’s okay. I’m just happy you’re here now.” Cody wiped the tears away.
“Code. I lost my title. Seth cheated on me, and I barely got any TV time.” Cody scoffed. He never liked Seth.
“He cheated on you?” Cody growled, and paced around the room.
I nodded, “I caught him. I went to congratulate him after his win one night and they were,” I sniffled, explaining to Cody. “I don’t know why.” I cried. “And then I lost my title, and then stopped getting TV time, unless I was on Seth’s arm.” I darted my eyes to the ground. “We still had to work together. After everything, I had to pretend like we were the perfect couple, until my last appearance.” Cody pulled me into a tight hug.
“I pissed a lot of people off with the way I left. I’m so sorry that affected you.” he whispered into my hair, like it was his fault.
“I don’t blame you, Code. I was granted my release.” I mumbled into his chest. He pulled back.
“What?” His eyes were wide.
“I asked for my release and Hunter pushed it through. I’ll be a free agent in 90 days” I explained. Cody smiled like a Cheshire cat.
“Babe! Dustin! Get in here!” Cody yelled, startling me. The both of them came running, looking for an emergency, but they only saw Cody pouring champagne for a toast. Confused looks covered their faces.
Cody gave everyone a flute and started a toast. “To our baby sister, the newest AEW superstar.” Brandi squealed and hugged me tight. The guys joined in.
I was finally home.
It was hard, walking away from my life in WWE; However, finding my place within the Elite was easy. Especially with Kenny Omega. He quickly became one of my closest friends. The next 3 months were the best of my life. The break from wrestling gave my body and my heart time to heal. Everyone did their best to hide that I was coming to AEW, even leaving fake trails that I was going back to NJPW.
After working out the details of my contract, I was officially signed with AEW. Cody wanted me to make a surprise entrance, interrupt one of his segments. Creative loved the idea of brother and sister reuniting, but they wanted to make it interesting. When my debut date came, I couldn’t have been any more nervous.
Sitting in catering, I was alone, lost in thought, picking at my food. It had been a long journey here, but they made it. AEW came to life and it was thriving. Double or nothing had passed, and that meant tonight was Dynamite.
“Guess who?” Someone had snuck up on me, covering my eyes. I smiled because I knew exactly who it was.
“Hmm, Prince Charming?” I guessed quickly. Kenny placed a sloppy kiss to my cheek.
“Close, but better.” He said uncovering my eyes. “Hey, princess. Just thought I’d come save you from your thoughts. What’s going on in that head of yours right now?” he asked, knowing I’ll tell him, taking the seat next to me.
I sighed, rubbing my face. “I was thinking about my journey, how I got here.” Kenny nodded, but didn’t say anything. “I was thinking about how I get to see Jon again, since leaving WWE, and I was thinking about Seth.” I finally spit it out. Seth, his name leaving a bad taste in my mouth.
“I knew something was bothering you. Talk to me, doll.”
“I was scrolling through Insta earlier. He’s engaged. I know I shouldn’t care, but I do. Not because I still have feelings for him, but because she is, was, my friend, and I don’t want him to do to her what he did to me.” I explained to him.
“That’s understandable, Pey, but people gotta make their own mistakes. Mandy knows what he did to you and she still said yes, so that’s on her.” Kenny said, ever the voice of reason.
I nodded in agreement with him, knowing he was right. I needed to focus on my new path, my new future.
“Peyton!” Cody called from a distance, Brandi following him. It was time.
Cody stood, center ring, proudly. He had won the TNT title at Double or Nothing. He went on about how he was issuing an open challenge every Wednesday.
I stood nervously behind the curtain, waiting for my cue. I was about to make my debut. My life has been a little crazy since I left WWE behind, but definitely for the better.
As an avid Fall Out Boy fan, I had struck a deal to have my favorite song as my entrance music. I had been using it for most of my career. The music hit, the crowd went crazy. “Holy Hell, that music can only mean one person. The sister of the American Nightmare. That’s Peyton Rhodes!” JR yelled into his mic as I strolled down the ramp, ignoring the crowd. “Peyton” chants filled the arena as I made my way to the squared circle.
“Peyton Rhodes has joined AEW and the crowd couldn’t be happier,” Excalibur added. I walked around the ring to the time keeper, grabbing a mic from Justin, and strolled on toward the ring.
The music cut, and Cody was first to speak. "Oh yeah. I guess we didn't announce this but Peyton Rhodes is AEW!" The crowd screamed at Cody's news, chanting "AEW".
I soaked in the cheers because I knew it was all about to change. I had been a face for most of my pro-wrestling career, and now I finally get to pursue the heel turn my fans had been begging for. I took in a deep breath and adjusted my leather jacket.
“Oh, Atlanta, shut the hell up!” I groaned into the mic. I revelled in the audible gasp that could be heard. “That’s right. No more sweet ‘Georgia peach’ Peyton Rhodes. I came to AEW to raise hell, and that’s what I’m going to do.” I wandered around the ring, stopping in front of a camera. “I’m sick and tired of wanting your approval. I’m here to get what I want. And I want it all.” I punctuated as I looked dead into the camera.
“Hear that big brother,” I turned and faced Cody, “Hell just arrived in AEW I hope you’re ready.” I gestured to the crowd, “I hope you’re all ready, because if you thought Cody was a nightmare, wait til you see me, the Dream Killer.” I dropped the mic, and rolled out of the ring. The crowd loved it. “Dream Killer” chants echoed in my ears all the way backstage.
I was greeted by Dustin, Brandi, and Kenny. “That was perfect, Pey, they loved it.” Kenny said as soon as I was in sight. I grinned, running up to him, jumping into his arms for a hug.
“The crowd loved you. They’ve been hoping for this heel turn since your WWE debut.” Cody said, smiling from ear to ear as he returned to the back after finishing his promo.
“For real, Pey! You pull off the ‘heel’ thing. I can’t wait to work on your wardrobe!” Brandi squealed, embracing me in a dancing hug. “Just think about the shoes, Pey, the shoes.” Brandi was way more excited about the outfits than the actual turn. She had helped me pick the one I was wearing. Black jean shorts, a front-zip black and white crop top, leather jacket, and black boots.
“I can’t wait to see where this takes me.” I said before we were joined by the rest of The Elite.
Nick was the first to speak. “Not bad, Rhodes. You might be a better heel than your brother here.” He elbowed Cody in the ribs.
Matt nodded in agreement, “For real Peyton, the crowd was so hyped for that turn.” He said with a soft smile, bringing me in for a quick hug.
I turned to face everyone. “Thanks guys. All of you. You gave me this chance.” I thanked them, “I promise I won’t let you down.”
“You’re a great addition to the AEW family.” Adam complimented, “Come on Ken, we got a match to get ready for.” he said before walking away. Kenny gave me one last hug before following him.
Cody and Brandi also parted as she had a segment coming up, leaving me with the Young Bucks. “Come on, Pey, lets celebrate!” We had walked back to catering where some more of the AEW stars were waiting. In the back, I spotted the one person I couldn’t wait to see again. I told The Bucks I’d catch up with them.
“Jon!” I screamed, almost running to him. When he saw me rushing toward him, he opened his arms, inviting me in for a hug. Hugging him was a blast from the past.
“Peyton fucking Rhodes. I heard rumors you were coming. Sweetheart, you knocked them dead.” He spoke into my hair. I gave him one more tight squeeze before pulling away. “Well, you look great.” He said, gesturing to my outfit.
“I’m heel now. Finally.” I boasted. I’ve been waiting for this for the longest time and no one was taking it away from me. Jon and I talked, catching up. I asked about Renee and he lit up. He was happy and that’s all I wanted for him. He was finally able to be the fighting champion everyone knew he could be.
“What about Seth? What happened? The last time I spoke to him, he said you guys were happy and he had bought a ring.” Jon asked, and it knocked the breath out of me. I knew he would ask, but I wasn’t expecting him to mention a ring.
“He cheated on me. With Mandy. They’re engaged now.” I said without choking up, which was a good sign. I could see the disappointment well up in Jon’s eyes.
“You were always too good for him.” I knew he and Seth were still good friends, but I appreciated the words nonetheless. Jon gave me one last hug before he got called away for his match, leaving me alone in catering again.
I found a table close to a TV so I could watch the end of Kenny and Adam’s match. They were well on their way to becoming tag team champions. I started thinking about what Jon had said about Seth, about him buying a ring. I couldn’t believe it. He was going to ask me to marry him and I would have said yes, had I not found him with Mandy. I was pulled from my thoughts by my phone vibrating. It was Seth.
I saw your debut.
You look good.
You’re gonna be a great heel.
I miss you.
I wish you would talk to me and let me explain.
I read and reread the messages a hundred times before replying.
Okay, Seth. When and where?
#kenny omega imagine#Kenny Omega#kenny omega fic#cody rhodes#cody rhodes imagine#wrestling imagine#aew imagine#aew fanfiction#dustin rhodes#brandi rhodes#friends to lovers#Welcome home#kat writes#kenny omega smut#matt jackson#Nick Jackson#Adam Page#jon moxley#seth rollins#kenny omega x ofc
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