#and for some reason a fuckton of that has songs like that

[ankiebitez]

random ass thought i had but with all the random shit thats apart of the regular story in obey me i hc that some of the random stories and stuff youll hear involving like the devil/a demon/an angel, etc. are things that actually happened with the characters in om out of context

(for example think back to that one post i made a while ago talking about the bible story where lucifer becomes a snake that tempts eve to eat the forbidden fruit and god punishes snakes by not letting them have legs anymore, random as fuck)

and now im going down a rabbit hole of different old songs that are similar with having a story with religious type stuff bc i was listening to 'magic man' by heart and it describes a man with a magic touch and blue eyes that look right through someone and i started thinking about satan

so now im just thinking about all the songs that could fit this hc.

imagine in obey me lucifer just has some beef with some random ass human guy from georgia that he lost a fiddling competition to like 3,000 years ago bc of that song 'the devil went down to georgia' by charlie daniels

[hobiespick]

Heya! I was wondering if you got any headcanons for Sam Winchester x werewolf! Reader, except, reader can actually turn whenever she (or gn if you want) wants, and the only real thing a full moon does is force her to be in her werewolf form (aka force her to keep the wolf teeth and claws out for no reason)

The thing that should not be

Pairings : Sam Winchester x reader

a/n : FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, HI, HELLO, IM SORRY IT TOOK SO LONG I SUCK SO BAD, IM SO SORRY. My requests aren't open (yet) but its not even your fault I should have 100% specified that, but this is my first ever ask and ur also one of my favourite moots and I didn't want to dissapoint so here are some fuckinf cute Sam x Werewolf!Reader. I felt the carnal need to write a metric fuckton of context before getting into the actual headcanons (which are very long I have no idea if they can be considered as hcs) so the reader gets beaten up by earth-shattering plot purposes :3. Sammy juicy headcanons start when you see the '🧿' emoji if you don't wanna read the context (melodramatic sigh). And yes the title of the fic is based on the metallica song :). as always, enjoy my shitty thoughts <3

Warnings: angst with comfort (no don't clap it's fine, omg ur makin me blush); guess who joined the cool kids club and uses "____." instead of "Y/n"; literally a flash of gore, shitty dad(s), fake death, mentions of suicide, Sam looks at you and goes DO YOU WANT M-; Dean being himself; reader is also a hunter and has been raised like that (fml); Dean makes a twillight refrence; reader is frankenstein coded in the most nuanced way, Mary Shelley please don't haunt me; Dean is very happy to have a bestfriend/sister :)

word count: 8,102

- Okay, so for starters, the fact that you aren't actually a monster (you don't get the urge to kill or wreak havoc) is actually a supernatural miracle.

Your parents haven't talked to you since you called them the night you were hunting a werewolf and told them, horror-struck between sniffles and voice cracks, that it bit you, and you’re going to turn, and you’re horrified, and you’re going to drive home to put a pistol in your father's hand and hopefully stop you from turning in the thing you shouldn't be.

Your father replied, after successfully not saying a word besides "Hey, kid-" before getting cut off by you and your hiccups. He sank his teeth into the inside of his cheek, enough to draw blood.

"You are not to come home; your mother won't bear to see you like this."

Your father objected before telling you you can finish the job by yourself; you always have.

He abruptly ended the phonecall like you weren't his daughter, more like an annoying salesman. You don't know what he'll say to your mother after that call; that was the hospital, and you tragically died? "Died a hero.." Your father would say when he described another hunter's tragic passing at the dinner table—paranormal tragic passing. So paranormal that your mother had knocked on wood and prayed it wouldn't get you or your family.

So you don't call, It's really me, dad. I'm fine, I figured it out by myself. How could you? after him suggesting it's better to kill yourself than take a shot at finding a solution together? You would rather have him believe you're dead. Or at least cry with you; it's okay, honey. come home; it'll be okay, spend the last days at home, please-

The last word you get from him is a text message you are too quick to open on your flip-phone to see the next day. When you rub at your eyebags after tracking down a witch, the witch. It was the second day when everything about you felt off; you were squemish, anxious, and haven't left your motel room all day. if you get this—the message read, "if you get this?!" if you get this, if you get this, if you get this—your brain repeats it over and over, taking the words apart and tattooing itself that phrase, because it held much more meaning to it than your father probably didn't intend; he would hear it if he read it before sending, you thought, that little 'if' haunting and tormenting like a damn demon. if you haven't already killed yourself; if you haven't already turned into something that took my daughter, my pride and joy, away from me; if you haven't already died–

- speaking to you like he's directly referring to the disease in your veins. Your brain moves on and reads the next ridiculous waste of your attention. I wanted you to know I told your mother that it was the hospital I was talking to yesterday, calling that you’re dead, house fire, so no remains to pick up—Damn, you know him or what? Even your fake death is stripped away from it's respect—"no remains to pick up"—like a toppled statue, a monument of what was once a hero (in dad's old-fashioned monster-hunting world), shattered and insignificant, no longer breathing or living, if you ever even had. Or a tree struck by lighting, again, "no remains to pick up" no meaningful remains or genuinely nothing, just a memory of another young hunter who died 'tragically'. You could imagine your tombstone with an even dumber epitaph to match it and an empty or nonexistent grave lying six feet underneath for closure. Your eyes move on, there will be a funeral with no grave, of course, I just wanted you to know that your mother and everyone else is devastated, we miss you, sugar. I love you, kid. Your father had overestimated your suicidal tendencies, and the way he didn't try to save his daughter in order to not go against the rules and possibilities of hunting only showed you how much he loves you.

So you track down the witch. You barely make it to her doorstep when she opens it with a too reassuring smile, saying your name and that she expected you, even going as far as offering you tea after opening the door and letting you in, to which you declined. You're not an idiot. But you do sit down, forced, when she, Willow Thorne, won't have you, a guest, standing up, a whole damn hunter being forced to sit down and accept being treated kindly like you deserve. When you walked in, the entire image of a satanic worshipper who sold her soul to demons and hexed everybody—that you betted all your life savings fitted the description of Willow shattered and laughed in your face.

Her home was filled with plants hanging and resting in every corner she could place; various crystals were sitting in cute porcelain plates like candy, candles of different colors on a bookshelf filled with books like The Language of Flowers, Astronomy for Beginners, and Sigils. Even more crystals, bigger and taller ones on a purple tablecloth. The house is adorned in shades of dark purple, violet, green, and warm colors. This home was a whimsigothic musem that would send your thirteen-year-old self into a shrieking, excited mess. Your parents never let you own crystals or a tarot deck; they were too afraid you'd turn darkside one way or another. well, mommy, daddy, if you could see me right now with lycanthrope blood pumping through my veins.

Willow Thorne is a wiccan type of witch; she does not receive her power from demons; she receives her magic from nature and probably practices her witchcraft the way she sees fit. This doesn't help build back the distrust you were trained to have in her. You flinch when you feel a tail curling around your bouncing leg; you glance down, and your eyes are met with a black cat's green ones—this must be her familiar—the little words on his purple collar reading 'Creek'. She gives you another flash of her warm smile and starts talking about her cat. This can't be real. Your every instinct screams that you should take her down or that she will take you down. Your options shrink the longer you stay. You keep a hand anxiously fiddling with your belt, thinking about the gun in your waistband. She's deceiving you with honeyed words and unassuming appearance; who the fuck knows, maybe the cat is manipulating you too. Throwing up would be the calmest reaction you could have right now, because the thoughts in your head started going at each other's throats and doubting in this situation could get you killed. Thoughts like, fuck her, her cozy house with purple witchy twitchy girl interior, and her affectionate black cat she mentioned she rescued when nobody would because of superstitions—you curse in your head, you're not actually upset at her although you do not let your guard down, you're upset at yourself for being so easily coaxed into trusting her, it's all too easy, and it is intimidating you.

You're pretty sure you're gonna rip your vocal cords out of frustration and an overall feeling of overwhelmingness; everything seems to piss you off today, even more than usual. How are you good?! All bright and beaming with nothing but positivity. You're not supposed to be good! I have believed all my life you aren't!..are you like me too? A thing that should not be? Before breaking down and crying about your situation, and if you did, she would make you that tea and rub your back with her hand that radiated ease and made you slump your shoulders with relief.

Before you get other fun thoughts like Am I on the wrong side of the war? You start discussing bussiness since you forgot that's what your here for. Even if your eyes water like a little kid after being scolded for something they didn't do, your voice is nowhere near close to sounding like one. You demand a cure, bargaining for a deal to stop the lycanthropy metamorphosis you feel taking over little by little and make you human again. If she can't, you have a gun with silver bullets in your trunk and your will written out, but by now it probably has no significance.

Much to your disappointment, she—Willow—insisted you called her, tells you she cannot take away your curse, but she can soothe it a little, keep it in a cage locked deep into your subconscious. In exchange, she could ask for fucking anything in the world, but she wants loyalty.

"Define, loyalty." You ask through gritted teeth, yeah, that will stop the tears, definitely, great intimidation skills, _____ .

"I'm talking about respect, mutual aid, when it all comes down for me, when I get threatened by a hunter, I want you to be there. I need you to have my back." She admitted, studying your eyes trying to reslove the conflict in them, anything that could give her hope. You couldn't explain this to anyone, ever, Yeah I almost turned into a werewolf once but my witch friend did a ritual on me, so i'm all good now.

Willow is now sitting on an ottoman facing her couch, where you're sitting. Her hands fidget with her bracelets until she clasps them together, and she is leaning towards you. Her gentle tone is imbued with gentle authority that commands her mutual respect without making her overbearing. Keeping steady eye contact, she is discussing serious matters with a serious tone like she should. You can't lie, it catches you off-guard, it herds you in the corner and softly shakes your shoulders, forcing you to listen.

You'd be every synonym in the dictionary for the word 'idiot' if you hadn't accepted this deal. You shake hands, and the warm smile she wears causes a domino effect, making you do the same, even if you had been crying.

It's a funky ritual. She makes you lay on the couch while she lights all sorts of candles; she closes the curtains even though it's already dark so light cannot come in. The only light present is the salt lamp in the far corner and the numeruous lighted candles. She even has to kick Creek out of the room, much to the cat's protests outside the door. They slowly come to a stop as he finds something that's more interesting than whatever ritual his owner is cooking up with a guest—that he feels drawn to for whatever reason. You feel nervous, and she feels nervous too, because you are. Willow reassures you and tells you that after it ends you will pass out for a while, but that's fine because she says you can spend the night if she isn't pushing it.

The celling becomes your newest fascination, and you study every small bump and gray spot in order to distract your mind from... well, thinking. Not for the ritual, but for reassurance, she lies and says you have to hold her hand. Her warm hand against yours seems to punch out of your lungs every doubt whether this will work or not and the sadness your father produced with an unfatherly amount of bluntness and cold parenting that was the verbal equivalent of stabbing your spine and twisting the knife, but you can't pull out the knife, well, you can try, but it will hurt even worse and it will infect spreading yellow or purple marks around it–. She—her hand—has the ability to make you breathe again without feeling like you have leg irons around your neck dragging it down and hands squashing your lungs to bits. She speaks incantations in what you know is latin and instructs you to close your eyes. You swear you hear a candle stop burning in the process—something you can't physically hear, but you had. You can make out a few words (your ears keep ringing and something is happening because you hear her voice; it's distorted and weird, but she told you, strictly, not to open your eyes, so you don't). Words like: lupus-wolf, tollere-take away? You're not sure on that one; that's what three straight days of crying might do to one, mutare- which means change. Okay, that was a nice distraction now what el–

You feel the imprint of a huge dog-like paw pressing into your Adam's apple and cutting off your breath. She obviously takes notice by the way you're writhing and choking and swatting away at nothing—something you're trying to fight even with closed eyes, but there is nothing there. Your palm doesn't make contact with anything. Quickly, Willow chants something you're too busy choking to catch. The pressure on your throat dissolves, and you can breathe again. She calms her own breath and squeezes your hand. When she doesn't feel you squeeze back, she remembers that you're supposed to pass out after the spell. Willow drapes a blanket on you and goes off to order something to eat. When she opens the living room door, Creek doesn't hesitate to run in and settle on your chest. The cat purrs as he patiently waits for you to wake up.

You wake up fifteen minutes later with the smell of food flooding your nostrils, stronger than it has ever been before. It's almost like it's sitting right under your nose. You open your eyes, and the smell has a color, and you can clearly see how it snakes its way in from the kitchen into the half-open door. Your nails feel heavier than usual. This is hopefully a fever dream. But the food isn't here, nor is Willow; you can hear her humming a song in the kitchen, Voodoo Chile by Jimi Hendrix.

The weight of the shadow on your chest brings you back to earth, and you run your hands through his black fur with closed eyes as your head falls back onto the couch. The feeling of fur on your fingertips feeding to your serotonin levels rising. Creek seems to know what it's like to be disowned by your own father and forced to have a fake death in order to 'die' in a way that won't make your mother think you were cursed, or worse, that the whole family is now. Creek notices you're awake and gets off you, but not before making biscuits.

"Thanks, Creek." You mumble before pushing yourself up in a sitting position with a groan.

You can feel the rich, velvety, dark green rug beneath your socks; you would have appreciated it properly if you could actually see the details woven into it. Your eyes keep focusing and unfocusing like they're getting adjusted, and the room doesn't seem so dark anymore. God, how long did you pass out? As you tried to gather your thoughts (if the spell was easy on you enough to actually leave some), memories of the ritual came flooding back—the chanting in latin, the flickering candle(s), the punching smell of herbs, the murder attempt from a wolf spirit/ghost?! who the hell knows anymore? Now you were wide awake, and everything felt different. If it weren't for the fucking ritual that was just performed on you, you would've blamed the faint ringing in your years, shitty eyesight, and banging headache on a terrible hangover or a cold so bad it would make your throat ache for the tea your mom would make you when your immune system failed you. She promised she would teach me how to make it. Your grief echoed to you.

You rub at your temples at thats when you notice why did your nails feel heavier than usual. You had fucking claws, well, not animal claws, but they are honorably elongated and sharper than they had ever been. As you looked up from your lap, your eyes fell on a mirror.

A tall mirror leaning on its back legs, with black edges and details on the rim, you would again appreciate if you had the ability to see a single thing in the distance.

Your eyes widened, mortified, seeing yourself. It looked like one of your parents's worst nightmares. Something out of a dream your mom would have—a nightmare so nasty and vivid she would be forced by her paranoia to get up and check that you're still in bed sleeping soundly.

Your eyes were no longer the familiar color you have seen in the mirror or in old photos of your family members you've grown to love. The shade wasn't even close to yours; crazy how one small change made such a big difference in your appearance. Your pupils were slitted vertically, shrinking only to dilate a little once again, getting adjusted. You slowly got up on foal legs and fell on your knees in front of the mirror. Even if you didn't think it was night because you weren't seeing darkness, the light of the moon shone down on the mirror and floor thanks to the now open curtains. That's when your vision stopped unfocusing and finally cleared.

You were now looking at yourself. It felt incredibly alien and familiar at the same time; you looked at yourself every day, whether it was the mirror in your bathroom at home, a crappy motel one that faced the bed (which you cover up with a scoff each time), or a reflection in the car of your vanity mirror checking yourself before going in a precinct, pretending to be a reporter (the things middle-aged pigs would confess to a doe-eyed girl from the press..).

You gently pulled the corner of your upper lip only to reveal your enlarged and sharpened front canines. Your hand fell and instead went to cover your mouth in order to muffle your sobs. You must have done a horrible job because the second you slapped the hand over your mouth, you heard Willlow gasp as if she felt it too.

She drops the food she was unpacking and runs in, taking a moment to calm her heaving chest in the doorway; her hands were holding it like an earthquake had shaked her up; even her round glasses had slipped and rested on the tip of her nose.

"_______, you woke up!" she exclaims cheerfully. "I was just—how do you fee-?"

She kept stuttering and cutting herself off. Willow didn't need to say anything else; she saw the tears welling up in your eyes and felt the same shock you did from the kitchen.

🧿🧿🧿- later on, you have to bump into the Winchesters one way or another

- and it's exactly on a full moon when this time the ball isn't in your court and you don't get to decide whether you turn or not.

- your claws are sharp, your eyes have changed their original color completely with your pupils vertically slit, and your teeth (conveniently) remain the same; only a few of your front canines are enlarged and sharpened.

- as for senses, it's downright spectacular.

- you can hear deer stepping on tree branches, foxes running, and owls hooting when you're driving by the forest

- you smell how many people are in a room

- you have night vision (yes, your eyes to the flashy thingamajiggy when someone blinds you with their flashlight).

- as a hunter, you already know that your claws and fangs can rip out a human heart.

- ironically, as this whole situation is, you hunt alone on the principle that you don't long for companionship as some lycanthropes do.

- you've turned into a literal killing machine with no instinct to kill, so hunting with others is off the table since at the first sign of a threat (they think you are one, but you really aren't), a hunter exterminates.

- you meet the Winchesters on a ghoul hunt

- you have taken the case before them, but when you couldn't get anywhere with identifying whatever evil being was tormenting the locals with their mere presence, you thought about ditching it since it doesn't look like your type of thing and took the consideration that maybe humans were fucking around this time.

- so when you heard the FBI are in town investigating the case (detective Page and Plant), you placed that town in your rear view mirror; they got it covered..right?

- but something didn't feel right- it wasn't the shame of leaving a case with your tail between your legs (pun intended) with the weak motive, 'Maybe humans are really fucking around this time.'

- something wasn't right, so even if you were tired, you abruptly stopped the car and went over your research spread out on the flat of your closed trunk

- the slits of your eyes dance over the words on your laptop, your papers, and an old lore book you fought tooth and nail for. When you realized it's a ghoul you're dealing with, you turned the car around and went over every speed limit like hellhounds were scratching at your tires. It was your job to not let anybody else get hurt or someone else's grave be violated

- as the light of the moon shined down on you and your wild eyes looked back at you from the rear view mirror, you knew you couldn't have anyone see you, you had to be invisible

- *time skip* (as much as it pains me 'cause i am a sucker for details :))- you swoop in time to save the Winchesters

- and if they weren't tied up, they would've started fighting you too, because why was there a whole ass werewolf fist fighting a ghoul?? John trained them like Spartan warriors, but nothing prepared them for something like this.

- so they sit there like:??????

- they watch you take out a fucking ghoul all by yourself

- the head of the ghoul's person they're impersonating rolls onto the floor. You have to remind yourself it's not a real person; it's an evil spirit who kills to feed

- by the time you wipe the blood off your face, smearing it a bit in the process, and cut the ties holding the hunters loose, Sam is unnable to look away from your slit eyes adorned by a strange color that strangely suits you

- literally hearts in his fawn brown eyes like you still don't have blood on your face and you aren't trying to catch your breath; also, you took a nasty punch to your cheek, and he's pretty sure it's gonna leave a bruise, but he totally doesn't care, why? why do you ask?

- by the way Sam is scrunitizing you, and oh yeah, Sam is scrunitizing you, you're sure you're gonna have to ditch since you've been in this situation before and you know how it always ends

- there was no 'explaining yourself' to hunters when they saw you under the full moon or when they saw you change because you had to.

Before you can even open your mouth they have their methaphorical pitchforks sharpened and torches lit up, prepared to slaughter you, and if you're honest, you can't even blame them for it because you would've done the same.

- Dean rubs his wrist with his right hand; the imprint of the rope is still fresh on his skin like a tattoo. Sam focuses on not choking when you catch him staring.

"Who the hell are you?" Dean thinks out loud. You take a big lungs-exploding sigh and give a shot at introducing yourself since they seem more civilized than most hunters are

- Sam geeks out about you

He doesn't question you because he is suspicious (he has the right to be but surprisingly isn't). He has to feed his noisy, information-hungry brain or he will spontaneously combust

- "Are your senses even more enhanced during the full moon, or are they the same?"

- "Can you smell when somebody is afraid? Like the hormones from their pores?"

- "Is it annoying to always have super hearing? Like has it ever caused you to be..I don't know.. Anxious? It did?" He mourns over you, trying to imagine himself in your situation but possibly can't.

- "I'm really sorry you had to go through a whole..change all by yourself, but it just shows how strong you are, some don't even make it 'til the end."

- After you were done explaining to Sam (to which he gladly sat himself down and listened) how sometimes you genuinely consider you're inevitably going to become what you hunt and how in the beginning you and your senses have butted heads, how you had no idea how to go through it without having panic attacks because the click of a doorknob was sensitive to your hearing like a veteran was scared of fireworks, how you accidentally ripped a motel door off its hinges, a result of you being slightly irritated, still getting acoustumed to your abilities. Dean would go.

"..Do dog whistles work on y–" Before getting an elbow in the ribs by a glaring Sam.

- more shit Dean would ask you for the sake of his own little curiosity

- "Is 'bitch' even more offensive now?"

- "Who do you think would win in a fight? You or Jacob Black?"

- "What do I smell like? Y'know, since you can pick up on scents and alldat."

- Dean calls you Cujo

- It's the one nickname you can get behind, asking him what he thought about the book, and he's like, "Oh, I watched the movie, but i know a little. Sammy used to rattle on and on about his books when he was younger."

- if you think about it, an alais doesn't sound so bad in theory or practice while hunting.

- it's secretive, the boys don't need to divulge your real name, and it's actually high-key kickass (I literally watched Cujo just so I know what I'm talking about, a.k.a. the second reason why it took a millenium and a half for me to post these; the first reason is that i suck)

- Dean is thrilled to get to call you that- he gets this fucking smirk, like a dad about to drop the worst joke ever made on everyone, you and Sam brace yourselves for what's coming with matching eyerolls-

"Let's fuck em' up, Cujo."

- "Cujo, dude, you're just itching to raise a little hell right now, aren't you?"

- "Uh- a bacon cheeseburger, soda, yo, Cujo whaddya want? My treat >:]."

- "Cujo, put on that song you were listening to; I had it in my head the entire hunt." (I didn't mention the genre or artist bc I like to imagine Dean listening to everyone's fav category; ex. I imagine Dean screaming bikini kill lyrics whenever i'm sad)

- if you thought the 'canine/wolf' teasing stopped here, you're so painfully wrong

- Dean made you a mixtape, because that's his love language apparently, with only songs that are about werewolves

- I feel like it took him a longer time to find a suitable title than the songs themselves

- he has all of the possible picks on a piece of paper that stays in the pocket of his fifty pound leather jacket.

- the titles are: Songs to transform into; The howlin' hits; Songs that will make you wag your tail—that one is crossed out because he knows you will make him eat the tape if he does settle on it; Love at first bite; and finally the one he settled for is Songs you can sink your teeth into. Dean smiled at his work, it didn't feel like a prank anymore it was more like a gift and he didn't feel any ugly emotion or insecurity try to pull him back into not getting attached to you.

The final touch was a note saying

"Hey, Cujo, thought you might want these howlin' hits whenever you need to tune the world out.

P.S. : Sam told me to add one of the songs, it's that punk stuff you like - Dean"

- The songs he prudently picked out are these : Of Wolf and Man by Metallica; Bark at the Moon by Ozzy Osbourne; I Was A Teenage Werewolf by The Cramps; Wolf Moon by Type O Negative; Witch Wolf by STYX; Run with the Wolf by Rainbow; Lycanthropy by G.B.H and others.

- you accidentally made a kid cry once- a ball was literally flying towards you and you caught it just in time, thanks to your reflexes

- instinctively, you turned around in time and caught the ball as your claws grew and sank into the inanimate object

- it's all "Nice relfexes, _____" praise from Dean and proud and shy smiles from Sam until the owner of the ball starts sobbing in front of you

- it's a kid, a boy with red hair, no older than six years of age

- but we all know Dean's charm is basically made for this

- so he handles both the kid and his mom (flirting with a milf all day, poor Dean)

- you keep apologizing to the kid and the mom, but Dean just waves you off; you don't understand his generosity until Sam tells you that you accidentally secured Dean's hookup for tonight.

- Since Dean is not coming, not until early morning, nor is he there to call you and Sam 'dorks', you and his younger brother take advantage of it.

- you guys have a movie night with the most random movies ever

- it is chaotic

- from rom-coms you switch to a world war II documentary, then you watch re-runs of House MD on tv.

- Dean stumbles in at like five something a.m. and takes a picture of you and Sam snuggling under a blanket while the tv light casts shadows of orange and cold colors on your defenseless expressions.

- but can somebody actually blame you? Or Sam, for that matter?

- honorably want to mention your body heat is also enhanced

- You and Sam were sitting with your sides pressed into each other

- you were radiating pure furnace body heat, how could he not be sleepy??

- but that's not the only reason Sam knocks out so heavily

- it's you he's sitting down with (relaxing for once in his life) watching a ridiculous episode of House with thirteen ads rolling every ten minutes accompanied by lazy talking as if you're not debating books only you and morally grey forty-year-olds read (where that Kansas drawl of his is much more audible and pretty), after a marathon of fatally random movies

- younger Sam who had trouble going to sleep/getting some shut-eye because Dean and John are out late on a hunt.

- Sam especially couldn't fall asleep because Dean wasn't there

- it was a different story when Dean was at the age where he couldn't hunt but he could use a pistol and take care of his little brother

- both of them in a relatively warm motel room, alone (since John fucked off to god-knows-where, to hunt a monster they are never to breathe in the direction of as a conversation subject.)

- little Sammy (age where he believed nothing could beat his older brother) could peacefully fall asleep knowing Dean stays up and watches over him like a hawke, reading comic books by the tv light

- where little Dean keeps chanting in his head what Sammy is supposed to do after eating his dinner.

- Watch tv or look at the comic with me (Sammy can't read yet), brush his teeth, then tuck him in bed.

- now pre-teen Sam can hardly sleep

- he is plagued/tormented by flashing images his overthinking big brain mades of a thousand situations where his family got hurt, if not even killed

- Sam's grip on the shotgun is shaking; it shakes even harder when John's bark booms over his shoulder, right into his ear.

- "Sammy, dammit, what are you going to do when a demon breaks through the door and me and your brother aren't there to protect you?!"

- but Sam isn't twelve anymore

- he's a responsible adult

- snuggled beside you and denying any eepy allegations you decide to accuse him of

- so, the heat you contribute, the soft speaking on the tv, the darkness of the room, you being there is enough to lull Sam to sleep

- studies show you feel sleepy around the people you trust ;)

- the position you two fell asleep in cannot be described in any other word than childish

- somehow you would catch two kids, sleeping over at one of the other's houses, knocked out, and snoring in the same bed after watching a horror movie

- on one of the two queens the motel room contributes (the one closest to the tv) you and Sam have made this fluffy nest full of pillows, a huge blanket, plus a random quilt Bobby pulled out of thin air and gave it to you when he heard you complaining about the petal-thin blankets motels have during cold ass weather.

- When you both lied down on the bed with your legs greedily streched out, backs pressed against the headboard, and your head is resting on the wall while Sam, magically, was still able to hold his up after the very long day all of you endured. You predicted one of you wouldn't survive being in each other's presence and make it out not asleep, and god, you hoped it was you.

- Sam's breathing slows down after a while of comfortable silence, and you’re sure he's dying until you spare one quick glance and see him, downright snoozing with his lips parted without a care in the world, ghosts and eerie phenomenons weren't bothering or needing him now.

- during all of the movies and documentary and fuckin lazy intellectual commentary nobody else would have the patience to discuss with you or Sam, he somehow migrated on the bed/nest with his side flush against yours, like a magnet to another; it was inevitable not to stick together, literally.

- your shoulder was now pressed into his forearm, your head no longer resting uncomfortably, and his temple is resting on the top of your head.

- but (unfortunately) you weren't hugging or anything- like a mirror or a copycat, Sam has his arms crossed, just like you, so maybe that's why you didn't wake up full on cuddling, that does sound good though your brain mourns

- When you do wake up, the only slight change you notice is that you're sleeping on your side..so is Sam. You're facing Sam's neck and chin, and up close and personal, you can actually count the too-sexy amount of moles he modestly posesses. His arm serves the role of a pillow underneath his head, and the other is resting with his palm down facing the mattress.

- with Sam taking up the entire attention of your senses, it takes an emmbarassing while for you to hear the shower running, Dean; did he see you both like this? Was he going to mention it? Your gut fills with a small dose of embarrassement, preparing you for what's yet to come, and it protests at that.

- much displeasure from your senses to your brain and your heart that wanted to breathe Sam in more as he (hopefully) breathes you out, you turn on your other side, unconsciously careful not to disturb Clifford over here, and you try to determine what time it is from your surroundings alone.

- the light blue sneaking its way through the dark closed curtains and the slight chill in the air points all arrows to seven or eight in the morning, you could go back to sleep.

- Dean wasn't just feeling gracious; he didn't and wasn't even planning on sparing you or Sam

- that day, when he separately gets the both of you alone, he has the exact same conversation with different but not so different people.

-"You should've seen the two of you this morning when I came in, two kittens snoring together, it was fuckin' adorable." Dean teased–

—Monday, 13:34 p.m. — as he tossed his clothes into one of the laundromat's washing machines, making Sam paralyze in his seat as his fingers started fidgeting with the edges of his hoodie.

"You did?.." He inquires, not knowing what exactly Dean saw just this morning. Sam only woke up a little after you went back to sleep. He swore his cheek must have burned a hole through the pillow with how hard he was blushing. You were so close. There was a good distance between the edge of the bed and you. So your back was flush against his chest. If you're wondering where his arm went, it was around your waist. Sam—your own personal seatbelt. He probably thinks it's his fault too. Dean never ceased to describe Sam as a 'cuddlebug'.

"Uh-huh" Dean hums a confirmation, acting casual, scarily casual. Sam feels the teasing in Dean's tone; it's there, but Dean is not fully teasing yet, like he wants Sam to confess something first after boiling in his embarrassement for long enough.

—Monday, 20:02 p.m. — as he pulled the Impala into the driveway of a fast-food place you were so invested in you even forgot the name of; you froze and looked at him, searching for any emotion that might give him away, but Dean was a brick wall, a slight very Dean siginificant parted lips smirk paired with squinted eyes over the wheel, carefully driving into the driveway. Even the car seemed to betray you in your moment of weakness because you swear the volume is lower than it was a few seconds ago. Ozzy Osbourne's laugh can still be heard from the speakers, even if it's barely audible over your racing thoughts or your hearing trying its hardest to pick up on Dean's thoughts. The rythym of the drums seems to sync up with your heartbeat, or the other way around, you're not sure. Over every little sound, there still seems to be a little silence to fit in. You swallow a lump in your throat.

"..We had a movie night, we just fell asleep like that, that's all." You mumble, and Dean starts to feel a little bad for letting you be a victim to his spotlight-teasing and giving you no shade to reprieve to or show his undying approval.

Somehow, you still worry if Dean believes you have ruined the dynamic, and now he's cornering you to tell you to stop it or something (overthinking anxiety worms are eating away at your critical thinking skills). You just worry about what he thinks of this. You still worry about the Dean who doesn't correct random people on cases who mistake you and Sam for a couple; the Dean who just has to leave some arsenal or luggage in the front, just so you are forced to share the backseat with Sam; the Dean who always has to group you and Sam in a category when he teases you both (Geeks, nerds, smartasses, etc.). Cupid works hard, but Dean Winchester works harder.

"Hey-, Cuj- Doll." Dean sputters, switching glances between you and the wheel.

This didn't go as he planned it would, and now he is facing the consequences. The way you shrink in your seat and the way you avoid catching his eye makes Dean feel like a douchebag. If he didn't know any better he would thinks he is, but then you would actually be able to read him like a book and tell him otherwise. You hear the desperation in his voice; your candle of hope comes back to life and lights up. Your head turns to look at him with pleading eyes. Please don't be angry, please don't kick me to the curb, let me stay in the backseat a little more. Dean lets out a shaky exhale that turns into a laugh; he runs a hand down his face. You've watched him do that every time he got jumpscared by the monthly spirit with unfinished business. It was something you imagined Dean picked up from John, the picture in your head so clear (at least from the pictures you saw)— a tired dad in an old squeaky motel chair with a whiskey glass in his hand doing the same motion Dean was doing right now. Dean would mimic his father's gestures to try to look more like him; he didn't have his brunette curly hair, his dark brown eyes, Sam did.

Dean never had his voice either; he only perfected his bark to match his dad's. Sam hated the way his reflection resembled his father, Dean was either jealous of him for it or couldn't wrap his head around as to why his brother hated being their dad, probably the latter. Dad, at least in Dean's eyes, was a hero, a figure to be admired and emulated. But Sam? He didn't even have to try. Sam and John were so alike that they clashed constantly like two stubborn stags locking antlers in a duel.

"..Dean?" You call him out; you had no idea what was going on in his head; it would be pretty damn nice if you could know. Dean shots his head up at the mention of his name.

"Yeah?—sorry, I just, you and Sam are just so—" He sighs. "it's about time you two crazy kids broke that touch barrier." He guffaws, slowly pulling up to the ordering kiosk.

A new song starts playing on Dean's "hot summa' nights driving" mixtape, Emmit Remmus by The Red Hot Chili Peppers, he added it when Sam said that's one of his favorites.

- do I need to talk about how much of an immense help you have been on hunts?

- you don't need to help out on every hunt despite Sam's disappointment and Dean's kid-like joy to have their friend help them out who is a professional/werewolf/hunter/geek, who kind of gets his references?? But you are geniunely so good it's funny to have the boys call you up and be like "..so we need help". They're happy you'll show up but there is still that lick of shame that taunts the Winchesters whenever they are forced to call for aid.

- this one time, you wanted to hug them after not seeing them for two weeks, and when you went to attack Sam, you heard his bones crack.

- your strength still surprises you and knocks other people off their feet

- it was so loud (atleast for you), you were sure you broke something

- Sam did nothing but give you his (killer) dimply smile and reassure you didn't do anything (even if he slightly grunted); while Dean whined like a kid saying (lying) he doesn't want a hug (you coaxed him into it eventually)

- Sam feels like he's not allowed to call you by your nickname, like he fears it's Dean's thing and not his

- so when he finally puts on his big boy pants, he's like, "Uhh–Cujo- 🧍‍♂️so get this.."

- all red and shy, trying to act casual, as if he doesn't wonder about the reaction you might have if he calls you other nicknames, like honey, sweetheart, even baby, or if he had the excuse to hold your hand, how would you hold it? Fingers interlocked or palms flat?

- Sam would also love to just marvel at your slit eyes; if he could he would take a picture and put it in his wallet; don't get me wrong if he had one where you were normal, he would cherish it just as much.

- Sam thinks your nickname is actually really cool (probably because it's a Stephen King reference, nerd), and you take that as a compliment. Sam is hard to entertain or please by his brother's antics.

- But he prefers saying your name

- there's something so intimate about the syllables rolling off his tongue so easily

- "_____, Are you okay? What is it? The soundproof earmuffs? I'll go get them." When everything, and I mean when every sound is just too much.

- Sam got them for you; he couldn't handle seeing you wince one more time whenever a car with a bad engine would pass by the motel (during a stressful hunt); its tires squealing under the concrete, making a faint sound for the boys, but for you so much louder.

- you know how pathethic it is to be affected by such small things when you're blessed with such powers? How can you call yourself a hunter when decibels, frequencies, and fucking tire squeals make you their bitch? You wish you could train yourself in a way that would make you less sensitive to certain sounds. It just adds to the reasons why hunters have the excuse or classify you as "the frail one" not only because you're a girl. When you used to hunt with your dad and sometimes mom, the amount of dog-shit comments from other hunters who had sons, were nothing but mysogynistic, curlish, and ruthless. "Are you sure the riffle isn't too heavy?", "Does she even know how to kill this thing?", "She's going to drag us down, do you want us to die?"— the type of comments that would make your dad shoot daggers into them, defend you "She's a goddamn ______, what do you think?", and whisper into your ear "Show em' what you're made of." and you would (stubbornly) listen to his advice to the damn letter after you almost mouthed them off.

Your dad believed in "Actions are sometimes louder than words." and all that adult crap, you were not as zen.

Your mom actually encouraged the sarcasm you have replied with in the past. The funniest memory your mother can recall is a story she tells at every gathering and every chance she gets to everyone, she praised you like crazy. When another hunter's son had the nerve to fuck with a twelve-year-old you. "Aren't you afraid of breaking a nail out there?" The boy sneered, puffing out his chest like a peacock. You stared at him with pure disbelief. "The only way I'm breaking a nail tonight is by kicking your ass, you cocky brainless jerk." You spat back, your mother and father were there and so was the boy's father; the gravity of the situation was on your shoulders, and their stares felt even heavier in comparison; intimidating him was 100% on the table. You felt like everyone had the same exact thought occuring them, an unspoken demand passed everyone there, even you: Do something. And you did. Your mother's jaw went slack; she doubled over, gripping whatever surface was near her and she started to chortle, with her shoulders shaking like never before. Your father was holding in a chuckle while massaging the bridge of his nose.

- Sam has to disagree with you whenever you complain about how your senses make you look or about the way you underestimate yourself. "What?! You can't be serious. _____, It doesn't mean you're weak. In fact, it makes you even more interesting. Everyone has an Achilles heel; yours is stronger because you're an amazing hunter who figured a way out. It makes you even stronger, I have no idea how you deal with this crap! Dean and I would've gone insane if we were in your shoes for more than a day."

- he is also forcing back his infamous (spectacular) bitchface

- he doesn't 'hold back' actually

- he geniunely cannot glare at you, not when you're like this. He can make a few exceptions, like when you join in Dean's teasing/joking (the silly rambunctious energy Dean carries around had, unfortunately, contiminated you or awakened yours)

- or when you start teasing Sam yourself, he shoots you a glare that classifies as nothing but hot (in your book at least), the kind of Sam glare that makes you flush knowing he doesn't mean it at all.

- Dean making you those fake ass I.D's like "Joan Jett", "Stevie Nicks", "Kathleen Hanna" and when you asked him to make more subtle ones he was like, bet. "Kelly Hammer", "Diana Bowie", "Laura Ulrich".

a/n: I wanted to apologize again for taking so long and for the unnecessary amount of context that literally nobody asked for. Uhh yeah and feedback would be very much appreciated<3, sava out *mic drop*

[leftneb]

What's one of your favourite songs atm? <3

dissociating by Sewerslvt! it's more an all time favorite than a current fixation but I'm taking this opportunity to yap freely

ask me anything on anon :)

I do have a bit of an essay I suggest you read before listening to it in full:

It is definitely not to everyone's music taste, but I personally fucking love music like this. I love the bit of crunch to it and the fuckton of layers of sound and I live for the buildup and the whole organised chaos feel to it that pretty much all of sewerslvt's music has.

Despite the topic the album handles (which I'm not about to dip into because it's pretty heavy) this song has a sort of peaceful but at the same time tragic athmosphere for me. The synth or whatever it is the bg gives a sort of "time is flashing by" vibe to it but the rest keeps the pace slow and measured, while somehow not clashing (a bit like what I feel when my thoughts spiral or yk, dissociate, as the title suggests)

And as much as the first minute (and the crunchy sounding heavy breathing in the bg towards the end) are creepy as fuck they're also comforting in the "disturb the comfortable and comfort the disturbed" sense, to me it makes the whole piece feel more personal in a way

yt link stamped past the hearing/sanity loss bit

and just to make sure I don't leave this out: the artist has been the centre of controvery for various reasons, none of which I am willing to state my opinion on. their music got me through some tough times and that's all that matters to me tbh

[suffersinfandom]

So I’m loving season two. Like, a lot. I told my housemate who didn’t, for some reason, stay up until 2:01 in the morning to watch episodes four and five as they dropped that they were the best damn television I’ve ever enjoyed, and I stand by that! But there’s something bothering me, and I know I’m not alone in this:

Izzy’s been accepted into the Revenge crew and Ed hasn’t, and that doesn’t feel fair. (I’m not talking about whether or not it’s right, okay? That’s a whole different ramble. This is about feelings!)

OFMD emphasizes the importance of community—of finding people who will accept you for who you are, of belonging to something. Season one focused on Stede creating something kinder than your traditional macho, hyper-violent pirate community on the Revenge, as well as on Ed realizing that he wants in on that. 

(And Ed does try to get in on that! After he thinks Stede has abandoned him—and after he gets the initial breakup moping out of the way—he turns to the crew. He likes being Ed; he wants to learn how to be Ed even without Stede in the picture, and he thinks that Ed could have a place in the community that Stede left behind. No, that community isn’t a fix for all of his issues; he’s still troubled. He’s not better, but he wants to get better. Izzy’s confrontation—you’re better off dead than like this, you’d better watch your fucking step—is the spark that ignites the powder keg that is Ed’s unresolved trauma. In the wake of this, the crew chanting and calling for “Eddie” to give them another song sounds like mockery. It sounds like hostility, and Ed only knows how to respond to hostility with violence. That violence destroys the community that could have supported Ed as he healed.)

In season two, Izzy is straight up bullied into the community that Stede brought about. He doesn’t want to be there. He doesn’t deserve to be there, but this isn’t about what Izzy deserves: it’s about how the crew thinks people should be treated.  It’s about showing love to people who have messed up even if they aren’t sorry and tell you to fuck off. And I think that’s lovely! Izzy’s fun when he’s a playful asshole and not actively harmful like he was in season one. Rehabilitating that angry chihuahua into something that won’t bite anyone’s hand off is very sweet.

But wow, it hurts to see Ed banished from the community that took Izzy in.

And to be fair, I don’t blame the crew. They had very different relationships to Izzy and Ed in season one: Izzy was an asshole who bossed them around, and Ed was someone they accepted as a friend. In season two, Ed is the monster who terrorized them and Izzy is just another victim. I get it! 

And, like… I don’t hate Izzy. If I hadn’t watched season one, I’d probably even like season two Izzy. He’s pathetic and wet and hilarious. But I remember the way Izzy lied to Ed, insulted him, undermined him, betrayed Stede, bought Ed, and ultimately threatened Ed right back into the only defense he knows. No, Izzy isn’t solely responsible for the Kraken’s reign of terror—Ed is troubled, he has a fuckton of issues and trauma to work through—but Izzy bears some blame! And honestly? Even with all of that, I’m tempted to be okay with season two Izzy. He is at least aware of his role in the disaster that was the Kraken era, and subtly took accountability for it. That’s very cool, but it still doesn’t feel great, you know?

It doesn’t feel great because Izzy did absolutely nothing to get where he is. He didn’t become some kind of benevolent protector of the crew between seasons one and two; he didn’t try to become a part of this community that he scoffed at in the first season. He was rehabilitated, not redeemed.

It doesn’t feel great because Ed still isn’t welcome and he’s trying. Yeah, okay that silly not-quite-an-apology speech that Stede absolutely made up for him wasn’t all that great, but it was more of an attempt than Izzy’s made! And Ed has made himself intensely vulnerable in meeting the terms of his probation. He has agreed to get rid of his armor and his ability to move undetected. He’s trying to physically repair the ship that he damaged. He’s welcoming retributive justice, which is kind of fucked up (and, as Lucius found out, not always that helpful), but it’s the best he has.

(I think it’s important that the only instance of anyone actually apologizing with words—outside of Stede to Ed when he thought Ed was dead—is when Ed is fishing with Fang. Pirates don’t really apologize with words, they make things even by getting revenge. It’s violence for violence. Something about how Ed’s apologizing for an emotional wrong here, something about a budding friendship between Ed and Fang, something something.)

What am I getting at? I don’t fucking know. I don’t blame the crew for domesticating Izzy against his will while turning away from Ed based on what they saw and went through. I’m just sad for Ed. I want him to have the love and support of a community that accepts him as he wants to be, not as who he thinks he has to be to keep from drowning. 

A teeny little addition, because I totally neglected to say this: I'm not at all worried about whether or not all of this will be wrapped up by the end of the season. We've still got three episodes to go! This is just a thing that's been gnawing away at my brain.

Anyway, here’s some neat meta that’s written way better than whatever the hell this is:

How Izzy’s whole thing isn’t really about Izzy by forpiratereasons

No, really, it's not about Izzy by asneakyfox

Delicious meta about Izzy’s “redemption” arc by asneakyfox

[elvenbeard]

3 hours into update 2.0.0....

I love it xD But also, I'm a little bit overwhelmed, but UUUURGGGHHH there are some real gems in there already 😩

So, I didn't start a new playthrough for time reasons and went right in with my post-ending save. There was some initial fuckery with my wardrobe outfits that seems fixed now though after unequipping everything and remaking the outfits xD Custom tattoo and scar mods work just fine though and I might test these next few days what other mods do :D I'm really happy about the tattoos though at least :3

Some Bugs

Also, someone desperately needs to send the NCPD some funds cause....

That vehicle doesn't look like it should be allowed in traffic (this happened twice, and I was cackling xDD honestly just a really funny little bug that's probably gonna get fixed somewhere down the line xD)

But yes... Man the new skills and perks and cyberware and EVERYTHING is so fucking cool, but also so fucking overwhelming when you're already level 42+ and have everything at your disposal all at once xD But I was so excited to see all the different new Kiroshi options and how cyberware is tied to skills like... damn. And the strongest quickhacks really need a fuckton of RAM... as they should. And I still need a fuckton of practise in terms of using them, but I'm really excited to get the hang of it all somewhere down the line :D

They didn't forget about the LIs!!!

But then this:

When I read this in the patch notes, I was so fucking excited xD Hell yeah, a good reason to go to the apartment apart from sorting through my inventory xD Some more Johnny interactions!

AND. A DREAM COME TRUE WITH ONE OF THE DIALOGUES!!!

I was always a bit sad that Johnny had no comments whatsoever on V's relationship with Kerry, when he did with some of the other LIs, so this already made my evening xDD and one of the big perks of jumping in with my post-ending save to already get to see and hear this now :DDD Not gonna spoil what he says but... yes XDD It fits, I figured. And I hope the other LIs get something similar because it's glorious xD

Vehicles and Radio

In regards to vehicle handling... I can definitely feel a difference with my go-to bike! Like, it still has its weaknesses, but also feels a lot more stable in other regards, less flimsy and "heavier" like they described it in the patch notes. I love it a lot. I didn't try vehicle combat yet, although I did get randomly attacked in the badlands by some NPCs once, which was very fun XD I almost had a heart-attack, but it did feel like something that could happen. Sadly didn't manage to get my revenge in time, but next time!!

I like the new radio stations, but didn't hear every song yet... but also, and I think some others already said that, they don't really add much new in terms of sound and genres. Nothing that isn't already there in some shape or form. But still nice to have something new to add to the rotation.

Leveldesign

And as I was driving around, I randomly stumbled right into Dogtown :DDD well, not quite but, damn, that was an impressive moment:

The faction of the guards was labelled as "Test" though xDD Close but, not quite... Figure that's also a little bug though.

Overall... I fucking love how they integrated it into Pacifica o.o It's insanely impressive, huge and rundown and maaaaaan.... I cannot wait to explore behind the walls!!

Also, random little thing... I feel like the clouds looked nicer? But that could be me not paying much attention/ rain being rare-ish in Night City.

Not Dogtown but North Oak, obviously. But... idk o.o The light shining through like that looked so fucking cool and realistic, but I really dont know if maybe this wasn't already part of the Pathtracing update and I just never noticed it like this before XD

And lastly... I discovered whose nooks they added to the Columbarium. Right in the feels.

Cannot wait to discover more little details as I go but URGH yeah. The tiny little Kerry convo already made it worth it for me XDD And Viktor <3 And the Autofixer shop is so cool! And aaahhh I cannot wait to see what's gonna come with PL :333

[lordofhunger47]

Hazbin Hotel has ruined Helluva Boss:

Honesty? Hazbin Hotel has ruined Helluva Boss for me.

I mean, it is hard to correspond both show when they are so different.

Helluva Boss cast are petty manchildren who mass murder for fun while Hazbins at least try to be good and the show never condumn any horrible act there, oh sure Alastor is a main character and villainous but the show never tried to justify him with some sob story and repeatedly reminded the watchers that Alastor is evil.

It's like if there was a Rick and Morty spin off but the main characters weren't dysfunctional manchildren who commit many downright immoral stuffs in an episodic basis and the show didn't surgercoat anything that is immoralistically disgusting and treat it humorously.

I mean heck, Adam and Lute are basically Blitz and Loona!

Blitz/Adam: massive pricks who think they are entitled to everything and are assholic because they think they are funny.

Loona/Lute: white haired callous bitches who hang with an asshole.

Blitz and Loona with IMP kill humans for money but honesty? Money is just an excuse because they find it entertaining and killed for pettiest of reasons(killing a fuckton of people over a parking spot anyone?) like Adam, Lute and the Exorcists using the potential of Hell's rebellion as an excuse to kill for fun and hell they even admitted that shamelessly in a song and they see Sinners/Humans as inferior nothing but cattles to slaughter.

Oh sure, Blitz and Loona have a sob origin story but excuse me if I'm not crying a river and it doesn't change the fact that they and IMP are no better than the Exorcists.

I don't know if this was intentional but let's be honest, IMP are mercs who kill humans for money and in a lot of case for even less(like again for a fucking parking spot!) and IMP if they were in Hazbin Hotel would have been villains.

[bestworstcase]

On the topic of Bitter Snow, how much of TTS/RTA (I still do not which one here is more corrrct, if either) do you need to have seen to read it? Since I know it's a rewrite and complete AU so removed from full dependence on the source text, but i also imagine you might not introduce characters since you'd assume readers know their canon selves, maybe? I've seen um. two episides of TTS/RTA but I do have an encyclopaedic knowledge of Cassandra specifically as a whole because I have a close friend who likes her basically as much as you like Zhan Tiri. So I've seen all of her songs and I know what her arc is

But anyway I was interested in reading since I've read a few random chapters before and thought it was neat, and I admire your lit skills in general. So can I just head into it or should I go watch the show and then come back?

it’s written to be readable canon-blind! there’s definitely some things that will hit different without foreknowledge of what happens in the show (mostly: foreshadowing that will seem more innocuous if you don’t know what happens in canon in, for example, the Winter Episode), but in terms of establishing the setting and introducing characters, i presume basic familiarity with the plot of the 2010 film and that’s it.

the timeline relative to canon also plays a role in this—tts s1 begins after a six month time skip so rapunzel has kind of ‘settled’ into her new life and most of the new cast is just There. benighted starts at midnight immediately following the events of the film which creates a lot of opportunities to introduce characters / establish stuff about the setting / remix canonical plot points in a way that is both accessible to non-tts fans without just rehashing stuff fans already know.

+ while i try to stay true to like the essence of all the canon characters and keep the broad strokes intact, because it’s a rewrite au i do just change a whole lot of things to fit the story i’m telling and wherever i diverge from canonical facts that obv has to be established for all readers. (example: canon treats saporian as a dead language akin to latin, and there’s a minor character who can read it for professional reasons; in bitter snow saporian is a living language, said minor character is fluent because he is saporian, and him being bilingual is more narratively relevant because he’s friends with cassandra whereas in canon he’s just a recurring townsperson. or a character who’s really only in s2 has a presence in benighted. or i took a character who appears in only three episodes as a bit antagonist and made her a main character lmfao. stuff like that.)

+ a fuckton of OCs (i probably like…triple the size of the cast?) and heavily heavily remixed and very expanded lore regarding all the magic stuff.

i think of rewrite au as being a fanfic genre akin to like writing a novel retelling a classic story like alice in wonderland, where you can assume basic familiarity with the premise but the goal is to write a story that embraces its inspiration but is independent from it. so that’s the creative approach :3c

[crotchety-old-emu]

Hi can I ask about your writing process regarding "our love is these days' piano"? How do you usually write, do you plan out everything in advance, or just use a general outline? How hard it is to write a story that takes place in the Regency? Do you do a lot of historical research? (I really enjoy looking up the little things you sprinkle in there, like Robin Adair) What is the best advice you wish you would have known when you started writing?

hi! thank you so much for this amazing message. it makes me feel like a *real writer*.

i usually follow the same process when writing a story. i always start with an outline, which i break up into scenes so i know exactly when certain events take place.

however, with olitdp my outline has changed a million times. i usually wait until a story is finished to post it, so it mostly ends up being pretty much what i originally planned it to be. with olitdp, i've had so much amazing feedback that has helped change the story substantially. it was only ever supposed to be 6 chapters. so in all honesty, if you like the story, it's as much your accomplishment as mine.

i have to admit, though, it is bloody hard writing regency. i'd say this is probably the most challenging story i've ever written, because - for some unfathomable reason - i wanted to stay as close to regency english as i could and it requires a fuckton of research. i'm not a historian, and certainly not a historical linguist. so most of the time i spend on this story, goes into looking up if certain words or expressions existed in the regency era. i have several tabs open with etymological dictionaries and thesauruses as i write, plus i consult pride and prejudice (my main inspiration) on project gutenberg constantly to see if jane austen used certain words.

i want to make it extremely clear, though, that i am not saying that i've never used any words that did not exist in regency times. i 100% did, but i try to avoid modern words that would stand out like a sore thumb as much as i can.

this is why it takes me a million years to complete a chapter, by the way. pretty much all the dialogue is written out for the entirety of the story (unless my amazing readers inspire me to change the outline yet again). but all the actions in between, choosing the right and period-appropriate words to describe them, takes hours and hours of research.

as for other research, i have gone down many a regency rabbit hole. i have spent days reading about the correct order in which to enter or exit a dining room, the layout of upper class regency houses, the way a regency household is structured, popular books and songs of the time, clothing items and fabrics and lately, regency dances (which will play a key part in the next chapter 👀).

if you're writing regency stories and want detailed information and video clips of regency dances, this website is the most brilliant resource. it has helped me out so much. highly recommend.

a few other great websites, that gave me a lot of insight and understanding of the how and why of the regency period are, in no particular order:

jane austen's world (just great in general)

regency history (especially the page i linked to, on how to behave at regency balls)

ellie dashwood (youtube channel that has truckloads of information on regency novels, a lot of them jane austen's)

if i had to give any advice - not that i am in any way an authority on writing recency pieces - it would be to not do it 😅. or at least, don't stick to the regency english. it has slowed down my writing so, so much and while i am quite pleased with all the research i've done, i have made it so much harder to tell the story i want to tell, and i am constantly worried i am veering off into purple prose territory with the words i do decide to use.

i have been working on a new penthony-story (mostly in my head, though) for a while and i'm definitely setting it in modern times because i just want to be able to write without second-guessing myself with every word.

should you decide to try and stay as true to regency language as you can, i would heartily recommend pulling up a regency novel (doesn't have to be austen) and checking it for certain expressions and vocabulary as you go along. i think that, far more than the etymology websites, has helped me decide on the wording of my story. plus, bonus re-reading of some of your favourite pieces of literature. (i do get lost in p&p every once in a while, and i LOVE it).

if you managed to get to the end of this ranty post, i commend you, dear reader. thank you so, so much. i cannot tell you guys enough how much your interest and interaction with me have inspired me and helped me shape the story.

and you, @cardeakelsey: what an amazing ask this was. thank you so much for taking the time to notice the tiny things i put in there and for appreciating them. it genuinely means the world.

[gracefireheart]

Just in a mood to recite some Ryan Parker moments I like for some reason back when I watched NP [which is only during NP 2.0].

I definitely won't sort them in order of when these moments happened, 'cause I have no clue when some of these moments happened in the hours upon hours of content.

While hunting after the man that killed George- a Lost MC biker- with Cat and Paddy, Cat got Ryan to think up a safe word in case Ryan somehow got found by this guy and were about to be in trouble, to which they decided the safe word would be ~princess~.

Another moment connected to the one above was how Ryan would be driving up and down the highway- 'cause the murderer was the Highway Man or something I don't quite remember- on his war Banshee. Some cops were undercover in a truck- trying to investigate this same murder- and were surprised when Ryan of all people are driving quickly up to them, making sure whoever drove the truck was okay as this Highway Man (I think) were also targetting truck drivers.

Another another moment connected to the two above was how- after finally the Lost got that Highway Man with the help of Dundee- Ryan wanted to torture the guy with a god damn lockpick. 'Cause listen, my man's usually a pacifist that rarely uses guns or weapons, but he will fuck you up if you fucked with those he considers family.

Ryan and OTT being trauma brothers friends after the Lost MC vs CKR war, considering they both got kidnapped and tortured by the opposite side in a war neither of them wanted to be a part of but had to be a part of. Also how- during the time the Lost needed mats [materials] for stuff and OTT had a fuckton of it- OTT would only sell his mats to Ryan (in the Lost).

Irwin Dundee helping Ryan get out of the Lost compound ('cause he was accidentally locked in and were starting to panic) after the Yellowjack meeting between the Lost MC and CKR- that happened riiight before that war started.

Rudi standing up for Ryan- during the job interview to become Matthew Payne's assistant- after months of either blaming Ryan for the war (between Lost MC and CKR) or just not wanting to be near him. It was just really nice and satisfying. That and how Ryan ended up knocking out his competitor after (I think) Matthew said the two should have a fight to see who gets the job.

While they were driving their motorcycles after the speeches in the funeral (to the Lost MC bikers that died during that war I keep mentioning), Reid asked Ryan if he wanted to say a speech too back there. Ryan answered how he did want to, but he didn't want to upset Rudi, so he opted against it. And then Reid just telling him how he should've done it anyways, even if it would've upset Rudi. Idk, just the husbandos being comforting to eachother is always so nice to watch.

Also, Ryan and Reid just driving together in the most ridicolous car the former has [station wagons, drift wagons, small but fast cars, etc.] to "train" new cops in driving pursuits, which will include fun bantering and singing to whatever 2000s pop song they got.

Ryan, Gazz and Lucy's "SHOW ME YOURS TINTS" line when the three decided to go and have some fun doing small crimes together to try not to worry too much about Reid being in the ICU.

Ryan just being drunk with his friends- Erin, Vivi and Luther- and singing pop songs after finding the dreaded E G G.

Ryan doing some racing while Rudi was sitting passenger, to which the latter would encourage the former to spin out the other racers or just make them crash (which Ryan ofc didn't do).

Ryan winning (or getting 2nd place, I can't quite remember) a race despite 1. All of his tires being popped by spikestrips, and 2. Some cop cars being behind him, trying to make his car stop (to no avail).

Watching most gangs just treat Ryan nicely 'cause they either like him as a person, like him as a business man/old lady of the Lost, or just don't want to piss off the businesses he's part of/the Lost and other gangs that like him.

Honestly, anytime Ryan's racing or trying to escape cops is fun as hell to watch.

Can't think of anything else atm, but I might add on more moments when I remember them 🚶

[leseigneurdufeu]

Dude I listened to that song and I love it. I really appreciate songs written from the perspective of or about a whole country just... #the state of this world am I right?? (Also Hetalia fan here but shhh)

I understood almost everything but just to be sure that I didn't miss anything from the message, can you post the translation please?

PS you also inspired me to post something

ok so first thing (which honestly is like... normal to be confused if you're not a native speaker) is that the song is not from the perspective of a whole country because it's not La France (the country) but Le France (a ship named after the country).

Basically it was the biggest ship ever build for the 12 years it was in activity. It was the pride of the french fleet (not war fleet, I think it was for passenger transit or something), the apple of their eyes etc. It was a whole symbol.

Giscard d'Estaing, french president, had among his campagin promises that he would keep Le France in good state and in activity. As soon as he became president (well maybe not as soon but you get it) he fucking sold it to a saudian business man who sold it to a norwegian armator (who renamed it the Norway) and then she (the ship) ended up being sold to some ironmonger or whatever (years later, like deacdes later, which was further proof that the France could have kept sailing for decades!)

So, big scandal, big outrage.

The Right Wing goes berserk because they're selling a national symbol, the Left Wing goes berserk because I'm pretty sure there was also something like The France being sold meant a fuckton of jobs disappearing. It probably goes without saying but at the time, to piss off the right and left wings at the same time, for the same reason was kind of a feat.

So anyway here's the text, (the translation), and [explanations of context or explanations of translation].

Quand je pense à  la vieille anglaise Qu'on appelait le "Queen Mary", Echouée si loin de ses falaises Sur un quai de Californie,

(When I think of the old english lady

Who they called the "Queen Mary" [also a big ship from that time, but english]

Crashed [or shipwrecked, the idea is that it's still above water but not sailing anymore] so far from her cliffs,

In the docks of California...)

Quand je pense à  la vieille anglaise, J'envie les épaves englouties, Longs courriers qui cherchaient un rêve Et n'ont pas revu leur pays.

(When I think of the old english lady,

I envy the sunken wreckages,

Long-distance ships that chased after[or looked after] a dream,

And never saw their countries again)

Ne m'appelez plus jamais "France". La France elle m'a laissé tomber. Ne m'appelez plus jamais "France". C'est ma dernière volonté.

(Don't ever call me France again

France [the country this time] has let me down.

Don't ever call me France again,

It's my last wish [dernière volonté -> idiom corresponding to dying wish too])

J'étais un bateau gigantesque

Capable de croiser mille ans. J'étais un géant, j'étais presque Presqu'aussi fort que l'océan.

(I was a gigantic ship,

Able to sail a thousand years,

I was a giant, I was almost,

Almost as strong as the Ocean)

J'étais un bateau gigantesque. J'emportais des milliers d'amants. J'étais la France. Qu'est-ce qu'il en reste ? Un corps-mort pour des cormorans.

(I was a gigantic ship,

I was sending thousands of lovers.

I was France [the country], what's left of it?

A dead body for cormorants [cormorants and dead body sound almost exactly the same in french: cor(ps are mute) mor(ts are mute) and cormor(ants)])

Ne m'appelez plus jamais "France ". La France elle m'a laissé tomber. Ne m'appelez plus jamais "France". C'est ma dernière volonté.

(Don't ever call me France again,

France [the country this time] has let me down.

Don't ever call me France again,

It's my last wish)

Quand je pense à  la vieille anglaise Qu'on appelait le "Queen Mary", Je ne voudrais pas finir comme elle Sur un quai de Californie.

(When I think of the old english lady,

Who they called the "Queen Mary",

I wouldn't want to end like her,

On a dock in California)

Que le plus grand navire de guerre Ait le courage de me couler, Le cul tourné à  Saint-Nazaire, Pays breton où je suis né.

(May the biggest warship ever

Have the bravery to sink me,

My back [literally my ass but let's keep it correct] turned on Saint-Nazaire,

Breton country where I was born! [Saint-Nazaire, biggest naval pier of France at the time, about to close, costing those jobs I was talking about earlier, in Bretagne (one of the western areas of France) is the place where the France (ship) was build]

Ne m'appelez plus jamais "France". La France elle m'a laissé tomber. Ne m'appelez plus jamais "France". C'est ma dernière volonté.

(Don't ever call me France again,

France has let me down.

Don't ever call me France again,

It's my last wish)

.

Anyway I don't know what else to say but don't hesitate to ask more questions.

[insanepoll]

HEHEHEHEHEHE

Blaseball Characters part 3!

Lōotcrates: Makes magical equipment for players, makes clones of players, probably a god??? Definitely a lame-ass librarian/affectionate, technically a sentient pile of boxes but also technically the physical embodiment of the Vault where stored players and items go, their stadium canonically has Zero protection against the elements despite being inside of the supposed safety vault and also canonically has a mega fuckton of birds and salmon for some reason. Technically the narrator of blaseball, which gets them into fights with SIBR (Society of Internet Blaseball Research) on the classical historian issue of "accuracy vs. storytelling". Definitely fucked off to the Vault when the sun blew up. Most people hate them but I am very attached to this freak.

Chorby Short: Argentinian magical girl and herpetologist that can turn into a frog, they once batted for literal hours due to their blood type keeping them in by hitting foul balls (112 in total) against a crazy good pitcher. Got redacted after getting hit with a pitch from York Silk before re-emerging a season later. Went back and forth between the New York Millenials and the Boston Flowers for a while. got traded rapidly between four teams before landing in Breckenridge. Became a theatre kid on the Breckenridge Jazz Hands. Also, they're queer and have been on 9 active teams. The Garages have a song about them, and as of falling out of the black hole, they're on the Core Mechanics now! They could kill a god by themself, I think.

Nagomi McDaniel: technically the child of dead people (Japanese mom that grew up in Hawai'i and a Scottish dad) , she started off in Hades before going to Hawai'i, growing up there, becoming an ASL interpreter (she's selectively mute), and eventually getting married to the mother of another player named York Silk, whom Nagomi taught the basics of blaseball to. Nagomi played for Hades for one season before getting pulled to the Fridays. She was transferred to the Baltimore Crabs after a while, became carcinized (took on some aspects of a crab), and got her head chopped off and regenerated as a gift from a technically dead crab god (that all of Baltimore had a part in technically killing) named Deborah. Was the first player to steal every base. She had to deal with York getting trapped in a giant peanut shell and eventually getting controlled by a peanut god. She discovered her love for Japanese jazz on the Breckenridge Jazz Hands, and also took turns with Valentines Games hunting each other for sport. For Some Reason. Nagomi then got trapped in a giant peanut shell by the peanut god for being too popular for like three seasons and was yoinked back to Baltimore. Started siphoning blood from people for stat boosts pretty soon after being cracked out of the shell by birds. Was able to eat umpire flame instead of getting incinerated. She had to play against York while he was being controlled by the peanut god. Then her team ascended after 3 championship wins, and she was pulled back to the Fridays with no chance to say goodbye. All of her original teammates are either dead or on other teams at this point, including york, the kid she helped raise. She then got traded to the flowers, briefly got to reunite with her wife and York, and then started getting bit by sharks (called consumers) in an effort to protect other players. She got sent back to the Crabs AGAIN, got bit and lost the last of her soul, became redacted, and then exited the secret base (oh yeah blaseball has one of those) onto the Maimi Dalé's team. Then she got sent to the Mexico City Wild Wings before being pretty quickly Vaulted after that for being too popular or something. York got Vaulted soon after.

Note: there's a real explanation for why she and York got Vaulted, but it's complicated and has to do with star density, and if I get into that someone from SIBR is gonna explode on the spot from sheer stress.

the fact that there's a latine character tells me i was right to route for blaseball. also "the child of dead people" sounds metal af

[tlacehualli]

@atrappedwolfwill

That... was a lot faster than Emily had been anticipating. It’s very nearly some kind of religious imagery, her sat cross-legged on the floor of a hotel room in Zagreb, a veritable sunburst of affordable, disposable phones set out in front of her. She reaches for one as it buzzes, picks it up... and is greeted with what looks like an early-internet rendition of a sugar skull using text characters. It’s actually kinda impressive... although the concern of having been rumbled this fast is blunting the amusement somewhat.

But, still. She has time. More importantly, she still has her anonymity, at least for the moment. Emily’s under no misapprehension about how long that might last, but, right now, she can afford to prod. Maybe goad the elusive Sombra into a bigger mistake than just allowing her whereabouts to be tracked down to a city block about to be turned upside down by the best that Mexican PD had on offer.

She hesitates. Should she reply? The phone’s going in the fireplace in the lobby anyway, but... somehow letting the hacker know that there’s a person on the other end of this bust feels... unwise.

As her quarry runs like the wind across the rooftops, Emily turns the phone off and sets it aside, leaving one space unfilled in the array. All told, not bad for a couple hundred dollars and a few weeks’ work, especially if the terse tone is to be believed. Now to keep on the trail.

Oh no, no, no, no, no. Sombra very nearly growled at the lack of reply, continuing her little song and dance across the rooftops before translocating down to a reasonably empty alleyway. She punched a wall (and that fucking hurt and it was stupid but she was stupid so it's fine really), tossed another down the alleyway, and then she focused.

One hand came up, typing away as she added her own considerable processing power to the AI running parallel programs in her spine. Another, another, another - a fuckton of contacts, probably all just to spoof this little fucker's actual identify and location. Fucking...pendejo, really, now? During her Outkast? Is nothing fucking sacred. Okay fine then.

This time the messages came all at the same, across multiple cellphones, and the ASCII skull was considerably more menacing.

'You're in a world of shit, pendejo, you got the wrong one literally. Zagreb is NOT that fucking far'

[9210n]

O k a y sooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

I am weak for musicals with good music, so weak, and there's a musical called Jesus Christ Superstar which has so fUCKING good music and a fuckton of different version.

The Swedish production from 2014 is on youtube with and without subtitles which I just watched and omygod. OMYGOD. AAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

I have been going insane over it like with any hyperfixation, but if you add the fact that I am so gay, so very very gay (i am somewhere on the aroacespec, no idea where, but fictional characters and actors for some reason are the exception to the rule) , especially for androgynus men with long hair and soft eyes, then this one kinda makes me d i e.

This version of the musical features a love triangle between Mary Magdalene, Judas and Jesus. Jesus is the most bisexual looking creature to ever be created, Mary wears a leather jacket and Judas wears a mesh shirt. Keep this, and the fact that I am so so gay, in mind while I keep explaining.

It opens with the most banger song in the entire world "Heaven on their minds" but in swedish (i can understand swedish, i cant speak it, but i roughly understand what they're saying. Subtitles my beloved.), sung by blond long haired Judas with a man bun (and a mesh shirt, i swear to the gods, he is wearing a mesh shirt i am going insane).

Then it continues to be awesome, chilling music, banger lines, awesome acting overall stuff that makes me spin around like a drunk helicopter. The songs, omygod the songs, are so awesome and they are so wonderful and i love them and i love them. It also has that hint of christianity, but not in the worshipping way and more in the poetic way, which makes my exmo heart shine and sing and dance and spin back and forth like a swing (unrelated, I love swings, swings are so awesome omygod).

AND ITS GONNA SHOW IN NORWAY AND IM GOING TO SEE IT AND IM DYING BECAUSE ITS SO FUCKINGS AWESOME AND THE SOUNDTRACK AAND IM GOING TO DIE ITS ALL SO WONDEFFUL AND DYING BECAUSE ITS LIVING IN MY HEAD AND IM PAYING MY SANITY AS RENT

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAWQWQAAWKLWNDMENDNDDMNDNEKSKWKWNNENFKEKDNFLLDNDNDLDNMWNWLENRLNRLRNRK

I am actively being killed by a bible fanfic musical

9.2

what?!?

[avaritia-cognitionis]

Hi, hello, I really need to get these ideas stuck in my head out, PLEASE IF YOU TAKE INSPIRATION OFF OF THESE PLEASE TAG ME IN IT I'D LOVE YOU FOR LIFE.

Batman Drabbles/Headcanon/Oneshot/Random Ideas Dump

Soon to come up with idea dumps for other fandoms too. Please, tag me, like I said above. I'd love to see if you've written something based on any of these. But you don't have to, I'll find it eventually as I scroll through tags of the same characters and fandoms over and over.

Most can be X Readers, Headcanons, or some other stuff. I'll label it if it could be offensive, like yandere works or possible smut, don't worry, but you can totally make any of these have smut/yandere if you so choose. Also, this idea dump thing is a work in progress, and I'll (hopefully) add more later on. And unless I specify a version of the character, it's all up to you!

Normal Prompts/Ideas

Whichever Scarecrow/Johnathan Crane has the Grandma issues, I need a lil thing of some sweet old lady thinking that he's her grandson. Even though he's like, in full scarecrow gear. And this little lady keeps saying he should eat more, cause he's looking thin, or that he's such a ladies man, giggling to herself. He doesn't have the balls to tell her that he's not her grandson...Or that he's a villain. But eventually, he spills the beans that he's not actually her grandson, and that his real granny was a jerk (still won't say that he's the Scarecrow however). And she's just like "I'll be your new grandma, don't you worry sweetie, now come inside, and tell me more about yourself." And this man Is on the verge of tears. After, he now 100% calls her grandma, and will not take shit from anyone about it. Calls often, and always leaves her house with a full stomach and a smile on his face.

Okay, but imagine being someone watching over the Riddler as his probation officer, essentially making sure he doesn't go back to his evil ways, as well as help him rebuild his life. Edward, however doesn't. And slowly, but surely, the two start to bond. Could be platonic or romantic.

Batman dealing with an assassin for hire, not knowing who they are or who hired them. And once he defeats them, he has to hide the look of horror on his face as he takes off their mask and it reveals the identity of his dearest friend. It only dawns on him the next day he hears their name on the news, only confirming that his worst dream has become a reality. So he visits you, not as Batman, but as Bruce. He sees your reasoning, and he can only hope you get better. He doesn't want to have to fight you once more.

Any Villain hunting a security guard down during an Arkham breakout, for whatever reason of your choice. But luckily, another villain, who they have grown close to, comes and saves the day. The only thing they ask for in return, for a place to lay low...AKA, their apartment. Could be platonic or romantic.

A heartbreaker breaks the heart of whichever villain you choose, and a local bartender (who really doesn't care that their main clientele are villains), tries to ease their woes with some comforting words and booze. Could be platonic or romantic.

BTAS Riddler during his rehabilitation meeting an interviewer, of whom he finds their questions unique and refreshing compared to the others. Luckily he sees them at the celebration between Wacko Toys™ and The Riddler, interviewing a few guests. Riddler tells them to relax and let loose a little, and to get off the job and dance with him. Luckily, they're more than happy to oblige.

Song Inspired prompts/Ideas

Once again, if you like the song/idea but not the character, you can totally change it, it's your story not mine. And if you think a song doesn't match the prompt, then I literally don't care, cause I'm not seeing you write a fuckton of Batman shit. /j (I do actually care, just please don't say anything)

Arkham Riddler - Best Friends, right? (Amy Winehouse)

Riddler and the character have a rocky relationship/friendship. Things never get physical, obviously, it's normally quips at the others intelligence or deep rooted insults. But you slowly start to realize it's his way of keeping you out, he's afraid to trust you. To let you in. It's up to you how the story goes. Could be platonic or romantic.

Any Villain - Hold Up (Beyoncé)

Any villain helping a friend (or crush, depending on the kind of story you want it to be), beat up an ex of theirs. Imagine them ranting to them about how bad they were to them, and they're just like "Fuck them! We should jump them!" And they're just like "FUCK YEAH." Could be platonic or romantic.

Capullo Riddler - Year Zero (Ghost)

If you read the comic Zero Year, you'll know that he calls his reign on Gotham city "Year Zero", so whenever I hear the song I think about him promising how great his reign will be to his partner in crime, promising them how unstoppable they'll be, just him and them on the top of the world. Could be platonic or romantic.

Riddler - Me and Your Mama (Childish Gambino)

I don't know, whenever I hear this song I just feel like it's repressed feelings coming out. So I thought of Riddler and whomever getting high with each other, having a good time, then he started to reveal his feelings for them. Honestly, you can totally switch Riddler out for someone else, it's up to you.

TW/Not for everyone

Including the song fics, and normal Prompts.

Prompts

(TW: YANDERE) Whichever villains you desire all talk about their obsessions, how they make them feel ect, but as each person talks about their obsessions, they slowly start to realize they are all obsessed over the same person. Whether they team up or not is up to you, but there is definitely tension in the room when they all figure it out. And the first person to figure it out is now looking among the group as they speak about the same person in shock, rage, and more or less, well, dying on the inside. UGH THE DRAMA!

(TW: POSSIBLE/IMPLIED SMUT) This was originally made to be a headcanon thing, but it could be anything of your choice! (within reason, cause not all of them would do this) any villain as a "paypig" (also known as someone who likes someone dominating them financially, like taking their money. While some just give them the money not expecting anything and simply find that hot, others can want to be degraded or publicly humiliated.) I was thinking it could mostly be any version of the Riddler (Looking at you BTAS and Paul Dano Riddler fans) or the Penguin, but feel free to choose any villain. Whether they leave it for them in their apartment or send it to them online, depending on when the series takes place, is all up to you. Go ham with it.

(TW: YANDERE) Dealing with Two-face as a new employee at the asylum, specializing in anger management, exclusively for him, funded by Bruce Wayne. And while to them it seems to not be working at all, to Harvey it's a different story. You've caught their eye, and they're gonna hunt you till the ends of the earth, whether you want them to or not. (And then I added a quote because I thought it up just now, pretty swag if you ask me)

"This wasn't chance this time, no, it was fate. You came to the asylum just to help little old us, and then you start to grow on us. And I know we started to grow on you. This was more than luck, no, it was destiny, my love. We belong together."

(TW: THIS COULD BE CONSIDERED YANDERE, IDK THOUGH) Riddler keeping his eye on a little private detective, impressed that they were smarter than the average Gothamite. Soon, before he can give them a real challenge, he finds out they're leaving town, never to return. He doesn't understand, you'd never be out of a job in a city like this! That was until he heard that a certain villain tried to nab them, to get rid of the only interesting thing in this god-forsaken place. No, this will not STAND! Now, he's going to give the little detective a letter, if they're as smart as he hopes, then they'll know where to meet him. He hopes to make you... Reconsider your plans on going. Could be platonic or romantic.

(TW: YANDERE, ATTEMPTED SUICIDE) This was made to be Headcanons, but do what you will with it. Any villain/hero finds their kidnapped 'partner' with a gun, threatening to kill themselves if they don't get out, or at the very least be able to go outside more. The character of your choice will have to try and coax them out of it, how they do it and how it ends is entirely up to you.

(TW: HOLY FUCK, SMUT) Okay, here me out, I'd love some mutual masterbation between Young Justice and his partner....Then again, it's more that he jacks off and says out loud what he's thinking about, and they just listen with great interest about how much he wants to please them, to hear their breath quiver. His whimpers of excitement when you get closer to him are heavenly. Yeah, just a thought.

(TW: YANDERE) Look, I love Scarecrow as much as the next. But it's honestly weird how much of his yandere stuff is that he's fallen for an ex-student of his. I mean, yeah they're consenting adults, but geez, kinda weird. To me, a more viable way for a teacher scarecrow to have a person of interest is another teacher, or if you like it, a student-teacher. Think about it, for a normal teacher, he sees that they are more favored than him by students, so he cares to ask how to make his class more engaging. Romantic tension ensues, but nothing becomes of it because they want to "be professional", too bad he's anything but. And for a student-teacher, It'd be that they're learning how to be a responsible teacher, and have great interest in the subject of fear, although that is not what they will be teaching. Scarecrow considers them to be his assistant, and decides to get to know them more. Too bad he's gotten a bit attached. Either way, both of these ideas end the same way in my head, the ex-teacher, Jonathan Crane, revealing his new identity, the Scarecrow, to the public. And he's made sure his lovely little teacher has front row seats~ (P.S. Please don't attack anyone who has written scarecrow x student stuff, obviously they are both adults, and have the right to say no. This is not shade to them. I just wanted another option for those who feel uncomfortable with that, but like teacher Scarecrow. Thank you ^^)

Song Inspired

Scarecrow - Tonight you Belong to Me (Patience & Prudence)

(TW: YANDERE) I have two ideas for this. 1) he chases a victim of his down, but they don't know how much he knows about them. Or 2) Dancing with a kidnapped victim significant other of his to this song, humming the words of the song in their ear, trying to be romantic and ease their nerves, but it doesn't help at all.

Any Villain(s)- Back to Black (Amy Winehouse)

(TW: DEATH) The villain(s) of your choice go to a good friend's funeral, saddened by their recent departure, and decide to attend undercover. Sadly, not many arrive at the funeral, and even worse, they are asked to say a few kind words for the departed. Now it's just got a bit more complicated than just grieving, do they decide a lie about how they knew them, bend the truth? It's all up to you. Meant to be platonic, but could be romantic repressed feelings.

Anyone - This Year (The Mountain Goats)

(TW: IMPLIED DEATH/BREAKUP) Any person of your choice dealing with the first year without their significant other, made to be headcanons, but honestly you do you.

[demigoddreamer]

LGBTQ+ Themes in Greek Mythology

I'm no Greek Mythology expert i don't have any professional qualifications whatsoever(tho when i go to college imma minor in classics with a bio major but you don't care sorry :'(

i'm just a nerd who spends way too much time researching/reading a million books(calling all PJO fans/riordanverse in general i'm a fan too)on greek mythology(btw any of you read song of achilles, that shit broke my heart but i can't help it i just love greek mythology adaptations so fucking much)

these aren't in order i don't have a particular timeline but i think it's important to discuss lgbtq+ themes in greek mythology in SOME CAPACITY especially with something called ERASURE I SAID GREECE WAS GAY YALL but the greeks were more sexually fluid so they don't really have labels for this the same way we do and the way we defined their sexuality is not how we define it but this is most likely how it would've translated in the modern world and it's still important because seeing lgbtq+ figures in ancient cultures proves their existence and that we're here and queer, I can't do everyone here so i might do a part 2 if yall want

*Zeus did have like maybe 1 or 2 male lovers, the most notable ganymede but like Zeus is an asshole he's not cool enough to be queer so no i'm not going in depth about him AT ALL

1. Apollo

we all know Apollo, god of: music, poetry, healing, sun/light, archery, prophecy

but also he's THE bisexual icon(there are other gods like Hermes and Dionysus notable for male lovers I said Hermes was pan in like he was literally the god pan at one point and he's pansexual) but Apollo has the most male lovers out of any god and he does have a fuckton of female lovers(not nearly as many as zeus tho, no one gonna surpass him) Apollo is also depicted to be extremely hot no pun intended but also having a rather feminine appearance

some of his famous same sex lovers include:

Hyacinthus(this one my fav)- so fucking tragic got turned into the hyacinth plant

Admetus- no tragic end for Admetus unfortunately Admetus is a...straight-ie(I usually only call the cringe straights straighties but i'm just in pain in how Apollo hopelessly pines over him)

There's others but they're not as notable so imma speedrun but if you want me to talk more about them in depth and other lgbtq+ themes in greek mythology ask for a part 2

2. Hermaphroditus

This god was the son of Hermes and Aphrodite(please don't ask how THAT happened it just did)

Hermaphroditus is intersex, he's the god of intersex people, a symbol of androgyny and is the reason why intersex animals like snails(they have male & female reproductive parts) are called "Hermaphrodites"

The story is Hermaphroditus was just chilling in a body of water when the nymph Salmacis jumped on top of him while he was chilling and intended to rape him and she called on the gods to make it so that she and Hermaphroditus would be together forever so the gods merged them together into a partly female and male individual

3. Chaos

if any of yall read hesiod's theogony or...just hear stuff elsewhere, you may have heard of this creation myth where in the beginning there was a primordial kind of emptiness or void which was Chaos and this is mostly a headcanon but i legit cannot remember if they refer to Chaos gender AT ALL sooooo

NON-BINARY NON-BINARY NON-BINARY

4. Sipriotes

There are multiple stories of Gods changing mortals gender maybe as divine punishment, to help disguise them/protect them or whatever so the mortals may go mtf or ftm so TRANGENDER

Sipriotes isn't the most notable or even the most important in fact she only gets like a 1 line mention in some author's work but she's important to me

because she has some agency in this story. basically i think what happened is that she(he at the time) saw Artemis bathing(like actaeon but the reason that Artemis gets mad at her isn't clear since this myth is so obscure and it's not certain if the bathing is even the "correct version" or correct as can be with greek myth) so Artemis in retribution gave Sipriotes an ultimatum, she could either be given a woman body and join Artemis's hunters or worse so Sipriotes chose the hunters and the woman bod

5. Iphis and Ianthe

There are 2 people in this one cause 1. this is much longer than i anticipated and i don't think people wanna read that much 2. these people aren't important enough to have their own and their stories are so intertwined that individual sections would be too short and basically the same

Iphis was raised as a dude despite being a woman so one day when Iphis gets married they are offered to a woman named Ianthe. Iphis is sad because Iphis fell in love with Ianthe(mutual) but Iphis knows they can't be together as 2 women so Iphis prays to the gods for a solution to be able to marry Ianthe so the gods like turn Iphis into a dude

so this could be a trans guy with a bi?(if ianthe knew iphis was a woman) woman or technically this could be seen as wlw or i should say sapphic cause this greek i tend to lean toward this being trans guy but i won't argue with your interpretation unless you're being transphobic

6. Callisto

Now greece was very misogynistic and had a high emphasis on manly men. that's why in greek mythology there were so many mlm couples but you can't find shit on wlw there are technically only 2, one of them being the previous one and this one...it's technically not wlw it's awful it's evil but it's all we got

Callisto was a hunter of Artemis who might've been a queer woman. So basically Artemis's hunters say no to the company of men and swear off romance so none of the gods can touch them. But one day Zeus was like "yo Callisto do be looking kinda hot tho" and tried to seduce her even tho Callisto is off limits, he did this by shapeshifting into the Artemis and then called Callisto into a private spot where he raped her and got her pregnant. unfortunately since Callisto is no longer a virgin she had to leave the hunters and i think she got turned into a bear by usually Hera but sometimes Artemis too tired to double check

7. Artemis, Athena, Hestia

Now these lovely ladies are famous for being the only 3 beings Aphrodite(goddess of love) has no power over as they are virgin goddesses who swear to be maidens forever. I tend to see them on the Aroace spectrum.

Artemis was someone who said no to romance and to forever forswear the company of men that could technically be interpreted a few different ways(aka did she like girls? lesbian ace maybe?) I tend to lean toward no she appears more aroace as she had nada in the relationships department(no she never loved orion i'm tired of answering that question)

Athena is pretty specifically aroace as its very much explicit that she has no time for romance and prefers to spend her time on battle strategy and crafts. She is called Athena Parthenos* virgin athena for a reason. I heard her childhood best friend pallas was her woman lover from a random internet person but i can't find any sources for this so take that with a grain of salt but it could be that sources are hard to come by for ancient civilizations idk so she could be biromantic ace maybe????

Hestia is def aroace but also we have very little sources of any kind about her. only about her worship no myths. which is sad as fuck because she's a dope goddess i wish there was more about her

*I just realized i forgot to do achilles and patroclus but i was just so tired, i'll do them in the part 2

[arithedingas]

Request - how about Leto Otel for the character post? :)

send me a character and i’ll list:

favorite thing about them: Honestly his chill vibes. Like even when he's clearly flustered or happy or upset he just... never really raises his voice or anything. he's just chill like that. though I'd love to see a scene where he does raise his voice that would be kinda hot lol

least favorite thing about them: not so much a problem with him per se, but I feel like it's always been a bit ambiguous in the show whether Leto has feelings for DeeDee or not. Like, after watching the whole show I came to the conclusion that he probably does, but I remember when I first started watching I was kinda confused. I think the show would've benefited by having Leto at least confirm it at some point, especially since the ambiguity can make DeeDee's actions regarding him seem... a bit more iffy?

favorite line: Can't find the exact quote but basically when he said his first kiss was as terrifying as he thought it would be asdidhssdjdskal

brOTP: I like the idea of Ace seeing Leto as a big brother in some ways, and that he likes to make sure he isn't left out of any activities since he knows Leto has trouble socializing

OTP: Deeto of course!

nOTP: Can't really think of any tbh

random headcanon: he's the youngest of a fuckton of siblings (haven't thought of a concrete amount, just that you'd see the number and go "how is that humanly possible???"). As a result he was a bit of a latchkey kid and didn't get a lot of attention when he was younger. It's one of the reasons he sucks at socializing. Also, despite the large number of siblings, he knows everything about all of them somehow (name, DOB, favorite things, etc).

unpopular opinion: I can't really think of anything since this fandom isn't really big enough for there to even be any popular opinions lol

song i associate with them: I Can't Handle Change by Roar

favorite picture of them:

he's so determined i love it. bitch getting ready to fucking COOK