#and one(1) spider! i was scared shit was hiding in there and i was right 😭 but thankfully only one | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

vickyqrites · 6 days ago

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SCREAM 1996 CHRISTMAS ⋆⁺₊❅ HEAD CANNONS

~~~

Stu Macher ;

1. Christmas Enthusiast : He LOVES Christmas. He just loves the stupid activities and dressing up, gets him all giddy n’ shit. He’s planning ahead of time, for sure.

2. Decorations : He thrives on the chaos of tangled lights, gaudy decorations, and tinsel literally everywhere. His house probably looks like a Christmas explosion. Mismatched lights, tacky inflatables in the yard, and a tree that's way too big for the living room. His parents are rarely home, so it’s mostly Stu going unhinged with the decorations.

3. Mariah Carey : She’s #1 on his Spotify Wrapped and it’s only during Christmas. “ALL I WANT FOR CHRISTMAS IS YOUU 😫” in early November and thinks it’s hilarious when people groan.

4. Holiday Pranks : Christmas to Stu isn't just about cheer—it’s also about mischief. He takes great joy in rigging holiday decorations to spook people or pull minor pranks. For examples , hiding fake spiders in stockings, rearranging the Nativity scene so the wise men are doing something unholy, jump-scaring friends by hiding behind the Christmas tree (likely breaking some ornaments in the process).

5. Stu- Style Gifts : Stu’s gifts are… unpredictable. He either goes way too far with a gift or gives something so ridiculous it makes no sense.

6. Parties, Parties, Parties : Stu’s house is the spot for Christmas parties. His parents are gone (again), so he throws some wild, poorly planned rager every year, where half the school shows up. There’s spiked eggnog and mistletoe hung in places that make it impossible to walk around without Stu cackling at the awkward encounters.

7. Secretly Sentimental : While Stu acts like Christmas is just an excuse for mayhem, he’s more sentimental than he lets on. Maybe he has a few childhood traditions he still clings to. He never really talks about family during the holidays, but part of him probably wishes they were there—even if he’ll never admit it out loud. Billy might catch on to this, but Stu brushes it off with a joke.

8. “Fashion” : You know Stu owns at least one horrible Christmas sweater and he wears it proudly. Bonus points if it lights up or has bells that jingle when he moves. He pairs it with ridiculous Santa hats or reindeer antlers just to commit to the bit.

9. Snow Shenanigans : If Woodsboro ever gets snow (unlikely, but let’s pretend), Stu turns it into a full-contact sport. Snowball fights are war to him, and he’s the guy who’ll tackle you into a snowdrift with no warning. He also absolutely builds creepy snowmen that look like they’re straight out of a horror movie. Coal for eyes? Nah—Stu uses ketchup for fake blood.

10. Christmas Horror Marathons : Stu hosts a “Holiday Horror Night” with his friends, obviously pushing movies like Black Christmas, Gremlins, or Silent Night, Deadly Night onto everyone. He gets way too hyped for the kills and spends the whole time quoting lines or spoiling jump scares for others. Billy’s there, quiet but amused, and they probably end up arguing over which Christmas-themed kill is the best.

11. Mistletoe : Stu 100% uses mistletoe as an excuse to be flirty and ridiculous. He’s the guy who’ll hold it over someone’s head dramatically and grin, “Rules are rules.” He probably teases Tatum with it constantly. For Billy? He jokingly tries it once, fully expecting Billy to roll his eyes or shove him away—but Stu never does stuff like that without seeing how far he can push it.

12. Last-Minute Christmas Shoppings : Stu is the king of procrastination. He’s the guy panic-buying at the mall on Christmas Eve, grabbing whatever random stuff he can find and trying to pass it off as thoughtful. Somehow, it’s still charming because Stu can talk his way out of anything.

(I frickin love this guy!!)

Billy Loomis ;

1. Christmas Is Just Another Day (On the Surface) : Billy doesn’t care much for Christmas. Or at least, that’s what he says. He’s the guy who shrugs when people ask about his holiday plans, dismissing it as “a capitalist cash-grab” Emo ass. Deep down, though, the holidays bring up complicated feelings. Maybe he’s got memories from when he was little. Now, Christmas feels hollow, and he avoids thinking about it.

2. Quiet Observer at Parties : If Stu drags him to a Christmas party (which he absolutely does), Billy’s the guy hanging out on the outskirts, leaning against a wall with a beer, laughing while watching everyone act like idiots.

3. More Parties : He’ll scoff at the cheesy decorations and roll his eyes at the loud Christmas music, but part of him enjoys being there—especially if Stu is in his element. Seeing Stu acting like a maniac entertains him more than he lets on.

4. Mouthy lmfao : He’s got a sharp tongue when it comes to party games. “Secret Santa? Let me guess—another pair of socks?”

5. Billy’s Family Situation : Christmas at the Loomis house is strained and quiet. It’s probably just him and his dad at this point, sitting through an awkward dinner while his dad barely acknowledges him. The house feels cold and undecorated. Maybe there’s a tree because it’s expected, but it’s sad-looking and thrown together. Billy doesn’t care to fix it. There’s definitely no talk of Billy’s mom—she’s the unspoken shadow hovering over everything during the holidays. But before, she definitely was what kept it festive around the house. So to avoid all this, he probably sticks around Stu’s (mainly) or Sidney’s. (I could go on.)

6. Thoughtful (But Hidden) Gift-Giver : Billy’s not one for flashy gift-giving. He doesn’t like the act of Christmas, but he’s surprisingly thoughtful when it comes to people he cares about.

7. A Christmas Horror Purist : If Billy does anything “festive,” it’s in line with his love of horror. He’ll sit through Black Christmas or Silent Night, Deadly Night with a smirk, analyzing the kills and quietly enjoying the darker takes on the holiday. If Stu ropes him into one of his Christmas horror marathons, Billy pretends to find Stu’s antics annoying, but he’s secretly comfortable there. Sitting in the dark with Stu, watching bloodied Santas and creepy phone calls, is the closest he gets to enjoying the season. (I might write a fanfic… so cutesy!!)

8. Avoiding Sentimentality : Billy hates anything overly sentimental about Christmas. Carolers? He shuts the door in their faces. Sappy movies like It’s a Wonderful Life? He’ll turn it off with a scoff. He acts like he’s above all that emotional nonsense. The truth? It’s not that he doesn’t feel—he just doesn’t know what to do with those feelings. Seeing happy families or romanticized versions of Christmas stirs something painful in him, so he buries it under his usual indifference.

9. Quiet Late Nights : On Christmas Eve, when everything’s still, Billy probably stays up late, sitting in the dark with just the glow of the sad Christmas tree. Maybe he’s watching a movie or absentmindedly flipping through a horror magazine. It’s one of those rare moments where he lets himself just be—away from people, away from expectations. If Stu calls him during one of these moments, Billy picks up, though he sounds more subdued. Stu probably makes some joke to lighten the mood, and Billy half-smiles, even if Stu can’t see it.

10. Snow and Billy Don’t Mix : If Woodsboro ever gets snow, Billy’s not running out to play in it. He finds it annoying and cold, muttering about how it’s just going to turn into slush. Stu probably tackles him into the snow anyway, and Billy reacts with mock irritation. If no one’s looking, though, he might just throw a snowball back—dead-on, with a precision Stu wasn’t expecting.

11. Subtle Possessiveness (?) During the Holidays : Christmas heightens Billy’s possessive tendencies, especially with Stu. Stu’s family isn’t around, but there’s no way they’d be gone for December. They’d have to have some kind of family time, and that would occupy some of Stu’s time. If he’s busy with family or distracted by other friends, Billy subtly bugs him. And Stu knows why, like he has to pick up on it. Why Billy’s suddenly spending all his time there instead of at home. He needs to feel in control when everything else feels unstable.

12. Small Moments of Vulnerability : Billy has little cracks around the holidays where the mask slips. He’ll never admit it, but there’s a part of him that misses the idea of Christmas—before everything got so screwed up.

He rejects the holiday on the surface, but underneath, there’s a lot of unprocessed pain and buried nostalgia. If anyone manages to pull him out of his isolation (looking at you, Stu), it’s on Billy’s terms—subtle moments that let him feel like he’s in control, even during the most chaotic time of year.

Tatum Riley :

1. The Undisputed Holiday It-Girl : Tatum owns Christmas. She’s the person who looks flawless in every holiday photo, decked out in the perfect cozy-chic sweater and effortlessly styled hair. She has a holiday vibe straight out of a 90s teen rom-com—think shiny lip gloss, cute earmuffs, and a playful attitude. She’s the first to make fun of tacky Christmas aesthetics while also pulling them off way too well. Candy-cane-striped everything? On anyone else, it’s cringe. On Tatum? Iconic.

2. Gift-Giving Is Her Love Language : Tatum is an *amazing* gift-giver. She actually listens when people talk about what they like, so her presents always hit the mark.

3. The Queen of Christmas Parties : Tatum is the life of every Christmas party. She’s loud, confident, and has a drink in her hand while dragging Sid onto the dance floor.

4. Competitive Christmas Games : She’s the person forcing everyone into ugly sweater contests or leading a group to spike the punch. She’s not afraid to throw down in a snowball fight either—she’s got a competitive streak a mile wide.

5. Rom-Com Vibes with Dewey : Tatum adores Christmas lights and winter dates—bonus points if it’s with Dewey. She teases him relentlessly for being a “corny good guy,” but secretly, she loves it. Picture Tatum dragging Dewey to look at Christmas lights around Woodsboro, bundled up in his oversized jacket while pretending not to be freezing. Dewey probably surprises her with little gestures—a hot chocolate, a cheesy snow globe—and while she teases him, she keeps everything he gives her.

6. Holiday Movie Queen : Tatum doesn’t have time for Billy and Stu’s horror-only movie marathons. She’s a rom-com and classics kind of girl during the holidays. Think Home Alone, The Santa Clause, or Love Actually. If Sidney’s around, they’re probably curled up under blankets with mugs of cocoa, Tatum shouting advice at the characters like they can hear her. “JUST KISS HIM, GOD!”

7. A Little Bit of a Christmas Diva : Tatum has no patience for half-hearted holiday cheer. If you’re going to celebrate, you better commit. Randy tries to show up to a party in a lame sweater? Tatum throws glitter on him. “Fixed it.” She’s not above calling out people who ruin the vibe—“Billy, you look like you’re at a funeral. Smile for once.”

8. Big Sister Energy : Tatum takes care of her people during the holidays. If Sid’s feeling down, Tatum’s the first to drag her out of the house for some Christmas shopping or convince her to bake cookies. She’s protective over everyone in her circle, and if she senses anything off, she’s quick to step in, even if it means starting a fight.

9. The Perfect Christmas Aesthetic : Tatum’s house is straight out of a magazine. Her mom decorates tastefully, so it’s all classy lights, a Pinterest-perfect tree, and cozy candles. Tatum sneaks in her own touches—like obnoxiously large stockings or candy canes in every room—just to “spice it up.” She’s probably got an entire drawer full of cute Christmas pajamas she’d never let anyone see. (Except Sid. Grandma pajama solidarity lol.)

10. Holiday Shopper : Tatum takes Christmas shopping seriously and has zero patience for slow walkers, long lines, or rude shoppers. Picture her standing in line with Sidney, dramatically and loudly, complaining about how insane people get over 50% off toasters. “I’ll start throwing elbows if I have to.” She’s got a keen eye for sales, though, and somehow leaves the mall with bags full of the perfect gifts.

11. Snow Day Enthusiast : If Woodsboro ever sees snow, Tatum is all in. She’s the one dragging Sidney outside to build snowmen and start snowball fights. She’ll tackle Stu just to prove she can take him down, and she’ll pelt Randy with ice-packed snowballs until he admits defeat. She’s not afraid to ruin her hair for a little fun, and she’ll laugh louder than anyone when she inevitably faceplants into a snowbank.

Tatum is Christmas cheer—loud, confident, and unapologetically herself. She thrives in the chaos of the season.

Sidney Prescott ;

1. A Quiet, Nostalgic Christmas : Sidney’s Christmases are about tradition and simplicity. Her mom loved the holidays, so the season is bittersweet for her—full of fond memories that now carry a tinge of sadness. She keeps certain family traditions alive, like baking cookies from her mom’s old recipe book or watching It’s a Wonderful Life on Christmas Eve. It’s her way of feeling close to Maureen, even when it hurts.

2. Decorations : Her house is decorated modestly—a real tree with mismatched ornaments collected over the years, white lights, and handmade decorations from childhood. It's cozy and nostalgic, much like Sidney herself.

3. The Thoughtful Gift-Giver : Sidney puts a lot of heart into her gifts. She’s not flashy about it, but everything she gives is meaningful and personal.

4. Holiday Overwhelm : Big, chaotic Christmas parties (especially Stu’s) can be overwhelming for Sidney. She’s social and kind, but crowds and noise drain her, so she gravitates toward quiet corners or one-on-one conversations. Tatum usually drags her into the chaos, and Sidney goes along with it, laughing as Tatum forces her into a ridiculous ugly sweater.

5. Her Relationship with Snow : If Woodsboro gets snow, Sidney’s the one who finds the quiet beauty in it. She’ll go for long walks alone, listening to the soft crunch of snow under her boots and watching the way the world feels still and peaceful. Tatum probably pulls her into a snowball fight, breaking the mood, and Sid doesn’t mind—she ends up laughing so hard she forgets why she was sad in the first place. Also, she’s great at building snowmen but pretends to hate getting her gloves wet.

6. Holiday Movie Nights : Sidney loves classic Christmas movies—It’s a Wonderful Life, Miracle on 34th Street, A Charlie Brown Christmas. They’re a comfort to her, reminders of watching with her mom as a kid. When Tatum insists on a rom-com binge or Stu demands horror marathons, Sidney humors them but eventually pulls the “it’s my turn” card. No one argues when Sid wants a quiet movie night—it’s like an unspoken rule that she gets what she needs.

7. Baking as Therapy : Sidney bakes during the holidays because it’s calming and makes the house smell like warmth. She’s not a natural Martha Stewart, but she’s determined to follow her mom’s recipes. Tatum helps, but mostly just to steal cookie dough and call it “quality control.” Sid rolls her eyes and lets her. Stu once tried to mess with the cookies (extra salt, no sugar), and Sidney nearly smacked him with a spatula.

8. Thoughtful Holiday Traditions : Sidney has a habit of sending out handwritten Christmas cards, even to people who don’t expect them. It’s her quiet way of staying connected and letting people know she cares. She hangs onto sentimental items, like ornaments her mom gave her or gifts from friends, no matter how silly. Her Christmas decorations tell a story—every piece means something.

9. Sidney at Stu’s Chaotic Parties : Sidney shows up to Stu’s Christmas parties because of Tatum—and because Billy wants her there—but she’s always the one quietly making sure things don’t go completely off the rails. She’s the responsible one who pulls Randy out of trouble or stops Stu from lighting the fireplace "just to see what happens.” If things get overwhelming, Sidney slips outside for air. She doesn’t like people noticing when she needs space, but sometimes Tatum finds her anyway.

10. Christmas Eve Emotions : Christmas Eve is the hardest night for Sid. It’s quiet, and the weight of her family memories hits her hardest. She’ll light a candle for her mom or sit by the tree with a blanket, staring at the lights and letting herself feel it. She doesn’t talk about it with anyone, but Tatum knows—and always calls her to check in, even if Sid insists she’s fine.

11. Her Presence as the Heart of the Group : Sidney is the grounding presence during the chaos of the holidays. She’s the one who brings balance to the group—where Tatum brings the energy and Stu brings the chaos, Sid brings the quiet warmth. She’s kind to everyone, and she’s the first to notice if someone else is having a hard time. She checks in on people without being asked, always putting others before herself.

Sidney’s Christmas is a mix of quiet reflection, warmth, and bittersweet nostalgia. She finds comfort in traditions and small moments, even as the holidays remind her of what she’s lost.

(And you know Tatum, Stu, and Randy would all conspire to make sure Sid gets at least one night of unfiltered fun, whether she likes it or not.)

Randy Meeks ;

1. The Movie Marathon Master : Randy treats Christmas like it’s his personal Super Bowl of Movie Marathons. Forget rom-coms and heartfelt dramas—Randy is the guy forcing everyone to sit through holiday-themed horror movies and classics only he thinks are cool. "Black Christmas" and "Gremlins" are his obvious go-tos. He insists on a double-feature tradition: "Home Alone" (a kid’s revenge fantasy) followed by Silent Night, Deadly Night. “See? Christmas movies are about trauma. I rest my case.”

2. The Guy Who Buys Movie-Themed Gifts : Randy is the friend who gets everyone gifts that reflect his interests but are tailored just enough to show he does care:

3. The Ultimate Stocking Stuffer Guy : Randy is broke, let’s be honest, but he kills it with stocking stuffers. Think movie trivia cards, candy shaped like film reels, and weird novelty gifts he finds at a discount store. He probably throws in a mix of heartfelt and ridiculous: a mixtape he made (with “curated” Christmas songs) alongside a rubber reindeer nose.

4. His Family’s Christmas Is Pure Chaos : Randy’s house is loud, messy, and filled with younger cousins running wild. Picture mismatched stockings, a blinking rainbow-light tree that definitely flickers ominously, and a TV that’s always blasting movies or video games. His mom probably throws a huge family dinner, and Randy sneaks bites of food out of the kitchen early because “survival instincts.”

5. Crashes Stu’s Parties and Doesn’t Leave : Randy always shows up to Stu’s Christmas parties uninvited, arms full of movies and snacks. He immediately makes himself at home and starts trying to "educate" everyone on film history. “Did you know Tim Burton pitched The Nightmare Before Christmas in the 80s and got rejected? Hollywood is so stupid sometimes.”

6. He’s the guy debating movie plot holes at 2 a.m. and accidentally falling asleep on the couch under a pile of coats.

7. Awkward Around Mistletoe : Randy gets so flustered if someone catches him under the mistletoe. He’s the guy who turns red, starts stammering, and makes an awful joke to deflect. Tatum totally uses this to mess with him, dragging Sidney into it to really make Randy panic.

8. Obsessive About Gift Wrap Themes : For someone so unorganized in life, Randy gets weirdly intense about his gift-wrapping. He picks a theme every year—like movie tickets, old newspaper clippings, or comic book pages—and insists it’s “art.”

9. Sentimental Moments Slip Through : Beneath all the jokes and movie references, Randy’s a sentimental guy. He gets a little reflective during the holidays, especially with his friends. He’ll quietly check in on Sidney, asking if she’s okay around the holidays. He knows she’s hurting, even if she doesn’t say it. Randy probably ends up making a heartfelt toast at Stu’s party that starts funny and somehow turns emotional: “I know I joke a lot, but, like, we’re lucky, you know? To have each other. Even you, Stu.”

10. “The Dude with the Camera” : Randy is constantly capturing holiday chaos on a camcorder or Polaroid camera. He insists he’s “documenting the memories,” but really, he just loves having receipts of everyone acting ridiculous. Stu trying to juggle Christmas ornaments? Captured. Tatum pelting Randy with a snowball mid-monologue? Immortalized.

Randy’s Christmas is loud, nerdy, and sprinkled with chaotic energy. He’s the guy who shows up unannounced, stays way too long, and somehow makes the holidays brighter with his awkward charm and endless movie knowledge. Beneath all his silliness, though, there’s a big heart—he just hides it behind jokes and VHS tapes.

(And you know Randy would have a special “Christmas Movie Survival Guide” prepared for the group, complete with rules like, “Rule #1: Never trust a killer Santa.”)

#billy loomis #stu macher #tatum riley #sidney prescott #randy meeks #stuilly #tatney #billy x stu #tatum x sidney #stu x billy #sidney x tatum #christmas #christmas headcanons #headcannons #scream #scream franchise #scream 1996 #writing #send requests

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lunarduty · 11 months ago

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𝙏𝙐𝙍𝙉 𝙔𝙊𝙐𝙍 𝙂𝙃𝙊𝙎𝙏 𝙄𝙉𝙏𝙊 𝙈𝙄𝙉𝙀

☾ 5 times simon scares you and 1 time you scare him. SIMON 'GHOST' RILEY X F!READER TAGS | canon-typical violence, slight nsfw, depictions of injuries WC | 6,405 x

it felt foolish, really, to be taking cover behind a vending machine.

there were few places to stay hidden that were still within view of your door, where you prayed ghost would reappear with a thumbs up and you can leave before somebody came up to buy a soda and you would have to pretend you weren’t cowering.

and apart from all that…it felt FOOLISH to even call ghost all the way down to the dorm building. on the phone, after calming you, he swore he wasn’t far. promised that you weren’t pulling him away from anything important. though, you figured even if he was having a meeting with a general all the way across base, he would’ve come anyway.

big or small, he never let you deal with things you weren’t equipped for. but this…

“simon?” you called out, hoping your voice seemed nonchalant. your eyes darted up and down the hall in case anybody showed up. still empty. nobody but simon would know. “is it done?”

carefully, you creep out from behind the vending machine. the door to your room was left ajar, and though you could see a tiny sliver of your carpet bathed in sunlight, there was no sign of simon or the intruder. your hand anxiously wrings itself, but you fought the urge to return to your hiding spot.

but why wasn’t he responding?

“fuck, fuck, fuck…” you breathe out once reaching the door. ears strain for a noise of any kind, but there’s just SILENCE. and so, with little choice, your boot comes out to nudge the door the rest of the way open. it slowly swings with a dull squeak - one that simon has been meaning to fix but never has.

it's the squeak that tells simon that you’ve finally found the guts to come back. he’s crouched by your dresser, back to you, head twisting halfway to glance back through the corner of his eye. “called me over for this?” he questions. and you expect to find a tinge of annoyance or frustration in his voice, but there was none. he sounds more amused than anything - you would’ve preferred if he was annoyed.

“is it done?” you repeat, bravely still standing in the doorway, on your toes to try and see over simon’s broad shoulders.

he sighs lowly and stands. “yeah, it’s done. now get dressed before you miss training.”

a relieved grin spreads over your face as you step in, fully prepared to walk straight up to simon and press a kiss on his cheek. call him your hero because you know it’ll either fluster him or goad him into staying a little longer - it really all depended on what kind of mood he was in.

but as he turned, holding a cup upside down against a sheet of paper, you froze. even scrambled back to the doorway, fully prepared to slam the door shut as protection. “simon, what the fuck-”

“relax, it can’t get out. ‘m gonna throw it outside.”

“i wanted you to KILL the damn thing, not let it loose outside so it can find its way back in!” simon takes a few steps toward the door, not caring about your proximity. and in a desperate attempt to stay far away, you bolt back inside and to the opposite end of the room.

simon looks unimpressed. “stop being dramatic. it’s just a spider.”

he swings the cup in your direction. a fearful whimper comes up, and you suddenly wish you’d armed yourself before being chased out of your own room. “simon, i swear to god, you better keep that thing away from me.” and by the way he pauses, silent as a mouse, you could tell he’s contemplating whether or not to keep up the torture. to keep teasing you about the little spider trapped behind the cup - but simon isn’t a stupid man. and he’s seen how vengeful you can get after soap or gaz pulls some shit on you.

“alright, alright,” simon finally relents. a relieved breath comes out once he takes a step back toward the door. “wanna come with? to make sure he’s gone?”

“no, no, i trust you to get the job done.” as if you wanna see that freaky little fucker again. “just make sure to let him go far away from my room, okay?”

“yes, ma’am.”

the room seemed so much larger when simon left. he took up so much space that he always left a feeling of emptiness in his wake. it usually made you feel a little lonely, and yearn for the next time he would be here to fill his place again. but between him and the spider, perhaps you’ve had enough company for today.

just as he said, you quickly changed into training gear. and it wasn’t until you were laces up your shoes did you hear an URGENT knock on the door, followed by simon’s voice calling your name. “i’m almost ready!” you answer him, not bothering to come and open the door.

he opens it anyway. the squeak is barely there from how quickly it swings open. that’s enough to draw your attention away from your shoes, and you notice instantly that simon’s eyes are roaming around your room - cup and paper at the ready. the look in his eyes is eerily similar to how he looks when an op goes sideways. “don’t panic,” simon says, tone flat and steady.

it only puts you more on edge. “simon…”

“i think the fucker must’ve escaped when you came in. was the only time i didn’t have eyes on ‘im. might still be in here, but since he’s scared, you probably won’t see-”

sneaker half-tied, in the middle of simon’s sentence, you jump up and sprint out of your room. maybe tonight you can have a good laugh at the fact a spider managed to make you clear a room quicker than bullets. but for now, it’s back behind the vending machine you go.

☾

IV.

adrenaline can be a blessing and a curse, depending on the situation. most times, it’s both.

like right now - there was little pain to inhibit your movements. a DULL throb at most to prove your opponent has gotten more than a few good hits in, but not blindingly painful enough to keep you on the ground. you felt the heat of swelling and the wetness of blood without the pain that came with it.

but just because you could keep getting up, doesn’t mean you should. the adrenaline, for all its benefits, seemed to be giving you some kind of delusions of grandeur. making you think you could kill this guy, even though doesn’t seem to be nearly as hurt as you are. like a little voice in your ear, telling you it’ll keep dulling the pain long enough for you to win this fight.

the voice usually sounded like simon. right now, it seemed to be scolding you more than encouraging you.

you stood. swung a fist. he blocks it and returns one of his own. it slams into your side. the air is knocked from your lungs. your head rushes out to slam into his nose. there’s a satisfying crunch, but it’s not enough. NOTHING ever seems like it’s enough to down him. a meaty hand grips your throat and throws you against the asphalt.

and like a cloud of vapor, the adrenaline bleeds away. every cut and bruise and swelled muscle rushes to scream in pain, but the only one you can really focus on is the hand on your neck. squeezing tight enough where you’re almost afraid he might rip muscle and break bone.

your feet start to kick. arms swinging out to try and hit him off. the man grunts, but doesn’t relent. “you fucking bitch,” are the only words you manage to hear through the pulsing blood in your ears.

maybe simon was right. you need more time in the training ring.

but just as the edges of your vision start to dance, the OPPRESSIVE weight on your neck is gone. your body instantly, instinctively, suck in the air it was deprived of - happily drowning in it by the way you cough and sputter. your arms and legs, numb and throbbing, push you away in anticipation of being attacked again.

it never comes. and once your lungs stop seizing, you can see why.

you’ve never really thought twice on why simon was called ghost. it always seemed to fit him perfectly and without doubt - a specter of a man, coming and going without a sound, not even allowing others to see his face.

for so long, you’ve seen him as simon rather than ghost. humanizing him in a way very few do. but right now, it’s like you’re getting a glimpse of how others see him. not the man who sneaks into your room at night with hushed whispers, or who drops everything to help get rid of a spider in your room, even though he thinks silly. simon had pulled your attacker off so easily. pinned him to the ground with a knee on his chest and further BREAKING his nose in the time it took you to gasp for air.

and now… jesus, now he won’t stop hitting him.

as the pulsing blood in your ears died away, you heard every crack of bone and squish of flesh. the man, who had been cursing you before, groaned unintelligibly after every strike of simon’s fist. mimicking your movements of desperately swinging his arms but failing to actually hit anything important. and simon, he didn’t make a sound. didn’t swear or yell or so much as grunt as he continued his attacks. on the surface, one might think it was a cold and detached beating, but you knew him better. simon was never so obvious in his rage.

still, this version of simon chilled you. in a way he’s never done before.

“simon…”

your voice was small - whether from pain or fear, it’s unclear. it didn’t need to be a shout. simon stops immediately, fist raised up for another strike but it’s never delivered. and now that he’s stopped, it’s easier to see him. to see the rapid falling and rising of his chest, and the way his other hand grips the coat of his victim. to see how he had a knife tucked into its sheath, never used.

you blink, and he’s suddenly over you - skull mask dirty from the mission, now dotted in a fresh splattering of blood. a sharp and UNEASY contrast from his eyes, which are soft. concerned. still hot in a way a campfire is - welcomed to chase away the cold, but dangerous if you got too close. “you okay?” simon asks. his voice is gruff, but unchanged.

somehow unchanged. even after beating a man to death.

when you don’t respond, he brings a hand up to your neck, where the first blotches of bruises have begun to bloom. he uses his unbloodied hand, yet you flinch away from it. as if it’s a hot branding iron. as if simon would ever use his hand on you like he did on someone who’d just hurt you.

his hand instantly pull back. “you’re alright,” he continues, thinking you’re probably just in shock. maybe you were, but your eyes fall to his STAINED hand. “c’mon, love. gotta get you outta here.”

simon wasn’t afforded the luxury of not being able to touch you when both his hands grip your arms and pull you up to your feet. once he gets you walking, it’s a little easier to come out of the fog. easier to remember the mission, especially as you walk further and further from the detour.

he still grips your arm tight, speaking about their next plans, captain price’s orders, a new target. important things you should be listening to.

your head twists around, and you catch sight of the broken body simon left behind just before he pulls you out of sight from it.

☾

III.

the cold should’ve chased you back inside long before now. before it had a chance to sting your eyes and numb your nose and stop making your breaths come out thick and white. price came out an hour ago to smoke, cursed the weather, and insisted you keep your watch from inside. but he didn’t force you - maybe he recognized that look on your face. knew you needed the silence of snow.

the world outside of the rickety cabin the team sheltered in was dark and still, the only light coming from the way the snow reflected the moon’s light. in any other circumstance, it’d be a beautiful sight. one you’d drag simon out of bed to see - he’d grumble and scowl but stay anyway to keep you warm.

he still would, if you asked him now. after today, it was made so abundantly CLEAR what exactly he’d do for you. how far he’d go for you. such knowledge felt a little too heavy to hold. too bright to focus on clearly, like trying to stare at the sun during an eclipse.

maybe that’s why you wanted to stay out here, preferring to watch a dark treeline than face the sun.

but much like the force of nature that it is, the sun will always rise. simon will always find his way back to you.

“aren’t you cold?”

his voice was rough and grated by sleep - and came so completely by surprise that it made you gasp in a lungful of frozen air. the adrenaline from the fight had faded long ago, but a soldier is never too far from feeling it again, CRASHING like a wave on a beach.

you swung around, fingers curled into a sore fist, aiming in the general direction of the voice. it was too dark to see even the stark white of the mask he wears, but in your head, he wore the face of your attacker. it faded between before and after. between healthy and scowling and bloody and fearful. when he caught your wrist, the hard grip of his hand was too similar. he was wearing gloves - the feel of his skin not even offering its usual comfort.

“hey! relax, it’s me. calm down. it’s just us.”

fearful instinct had you wrenching your arm back, and simon thankfully released it. but your heart still thumped painfully, skin erupting in goosebumps that had nothing to do with the cold. you backed away from simon, leaning against the worn wooden fence of the front porch, and dug your nails into it.

for a few moments, simon was quiet. you felt his eyes on you, but couldn’t bear to meet them. because you know what he’s thinking. what he’s about to say. you want to stall it for as long as possible, but simon was still very much a force of nature. “not gonna bother asking if you’re okay,” he says. better that he didn’t. “you should go inside. get some rest. had a long day, love.”

“i’m not tired,” is your flat response. voice hoarse with disuse, weak with the ebbing of new adrenaline. and even as you say it, your body makes a liar out of you.

simon sighs and steps closer. the tilt of his head is outlined with moonlight. it’s always shocking how beautiful he can be without even showing his face. “something’s off, i know it is. you’ve been in fights before - plenty of ‘em. why’s this one so different?”

you scoff at his words, and for the first time in a while, your breath comes out white and thick. “you’re really asking me that? after today? simon, you beat a man to death. with your hands.”

even as you say it, you know how it sounds. how he’ll respond. you have to listen to it anyway.

“i kill men all the time.”

“yeah, but this… this was different.”

your eyes drop to the ground, as if in SHAME. ashamed of what, it was hard to tell. simon wasn’t heartless, but he was an efficient killer. to him, it was just part of his job. something he avoids if he can, but does if he must. you can’t see his eyes, but you know how they must look. “it wasn’t,” he says, like a fact. “he tried to kill you. almost did it, too. if you think i’d let anybody do that, you must not know me well, sweetheart.”

this time, you’re the one who’s silent. there’s more you want to say, but it’s impossible to find the words. how to fully describe how you feel - especially to simon, of all people. so, with little else to add, you just nod. your shoulders go slack, and maybe he’s right. you should get some rest.

you can’t even say so before he closes the distance. hands on your shoulders, pausing for a moment to look at your face, and pulls you against him in a tight, grounding hug. compared to the icy air that’s been your only companion these last few hours, simon’s heat was both intrusive and welcomed. his arms wrap around you, squeezing tight, and you barely think twice before hugging him back.

“i’m not sorry for saving you. i’d do it again, if i had to. ain’t pretty, but i would.” his hand runs up and down your back - meant to be a calming action, despite barely being able to feel it through your thick coat. still, his voice was doing more than enough to calm you. “still, i’m sorry.”

it’s unclear what he was apologizing for if not for beating a man to save you. the words still give a bit of closure. help the image of bloodied hands and flailing limbs ebb from your mind, tucked away to surely REEMERGE on another dark day.

but at least you know simon will be there when it does.

☾

II.

“looks like you’ll be on the mend in no time! i’ll tell captain price we can’t have any more fun until you’re back in top shape.”

gaz, above all others, always had this special ability to lift your mood. swollen bruises hinder the smile he elicits, but it shines nonetheless. “like that’ll stop him.” your words don’t exactly match the smile you attempt to give gaz - and not just because the nurse tied your bandage just a little too tight.

he picks up on it. steps closer to the cot, so he can speak and not be overheard by the nurses of the infirmary. “what’s bugging you?” he asks. “your injuries aren’t too bad. i doubt price will keep you benched for long.”

“it’s not price i’m worried about.”

his brows knit together, and then he blinks. you have to look away when gaz offers a sympathetic smile. “you saved his life. ghost might be a little CROSS for a few days, but at least he’s alive to even be upset. this could’ve ended a lot worse.”

gaz makes sense, of course. he usually does. but even his sensible words don’t lighten the weight on your chest - a weight that seems to grow when a shadow appears in the doorway of the infirmary. simon doesn’t spend too much time here. price has gotten on his ass about not going enough. so the fact that he showed up willingly doesn’t bode well.

“lieutenant,” gaz greets with a light tone. it was nice that he even attempted to keep simon in a better mood, but one glance up from the ground was enough to read his posture. tight and RIGID like a fist. like a held breath. the moments before a storm hits the shore.

“you’re dismissed, sergeant.”

it’s hard not to flinch at simon’s order, as if were another blow to take. and for a brief moment, gaz hesitates. you watch him, half-hoping he finds an excuse to stay. but with nothing but a pitiful glance at you, he simply dips his head and makes for the door.

the stretch of silence, in reality, isn’t as long as it feels. a few seconds maybe, but it feels like minutes. buried under simon’s gaze, unable to breathe or move or speak. it makes you wonder when simon gained so much control over you - he would argue the opposite. tell you how wrapped around your finger he is and blame you for it before kissing you.

“simon-”

“tell me why.”

you blink in confusion, and finally drag your eyes up to meet his. face hidden beneath his mask, it’s always his eyes that allow you a glimpse into how he’s feeling or what he’s thinking. but strangely, it’s easy to forget just who simon is. what he is. and you don’t find a single thing hiding in his gaze. “why what?”

“i know you’re not a fucking IDIOT, so that can’t be why you acted like one today.” his words still stung, even if they weren’t exactly an insult. again, your eyes drop - this time, out of shame. a weird sort of shame. one that you feel is unwarranted but forces its way in regardless.

“you were in trouble,” you start, “so i saved you.”

“i had it under control. you were ordered to fall back. you disobeyed. that’s all there is to it.”

in spite of his words, harsh and SHARP as a knife, you look up at him. spine straight, shoulders squared, much of your sheepish shame melting away under heat of anger. “you could’ve died, simon! was i just supposed to leave you behind? save myself?”

“yes!” he barks - and like an angry dog, he stalks forward. eyes narrowed, muscles tight, ready to lash out with teeth if you’d been literally anybody else on this planet. rarely, if ever, are you the subject of simon’s temper. you know he doesn’t intend to come off as frightening. not to you - never you. still, his presence is a looming shadow and you might as well be afraid of the dark. “you always save yourself, do you understand? if it comes down to me or you, it better fucking always be you.”

“simon, you’re asking me to not even try to ever save your life.” and dammit, tears start to pool in your eyes. prompted by fear and anger and exhaustion and worry and the implications of what simon is saying. you bring up a hand to wipe them away, knowing more will follow. “i- i can’t do that. not any more than you can.”

a harsh sigh rolls out of his lungs, and he thankfully steps away from the cot to pace beside it. his boots land heavily against the ground. he says nothing, but you can practically hear him say what he wants to say. anticipate hearing it. feel it hit you like a knife in the heart.

but he’s always finding ways to surprise you - as unpredictable as a storm.

“captain price asked my opinion of whether or not you need some time out of the field after your little stunt.” this time, simon’s words aren’t as loudly obvious of his anger - they’re hard and cold like winter ice. a way to detach his feelings. it still makes you whirl your head around to face him. “i suggested you should take some time off.”

“no, you didn’t.”

“i did.”

despite the deep, SHARP ache in your muscles, you spring off the cot. hands curling into fists, a harsh and breathy version of his name spouting out like steam. “you can’t just do that! i save your life - like you saved mine - and you want to punish me for it? that’s not fair!”

“i’m your lieutenant. i can make judgment calls when i see fit. orders exist for a reason - you can’t just ignore them when they’re inconvenient for you.”

“oh, fuck the orders, simon. you’re just being overprotective by keeping me from doing my fucking job. yeah, i got hurt. that doesn’t give you the right to bench me.”

the words tumble from your mouth, more heated and angry than you probably meant but everything ached and you were exhausted and this was the worst time to hear about this. simon didn’t respond at first - it was then when you remembered you were still in the infirmary. when you glance around, the nurses quickly avert their gazes away from the scene.

your face grows warm as simon steps closer. looming over you with his brows knitted together and a gaze that FREEZES the heat of embarrassment. it takes a willpower you didn’t know you possessed not to shrink under it. “get some rest. i don’t want to see you working for a week,” he states. another order he’s daring you to disobey, it seems.

the brush of his arm as he leaves might as well have been a shoulder check. it hurt almost as much.

☾

five days had passed. a day ago, your muscles stopped aching. two days ago, soap took pity on you and snuck in some reports on their upcoming mission because you were so bored. three days ago, gaz tried to take your mind off things by taking you out to lunch, and was the only one making conversation. four days ago, price came around to see how you were doing and give some anecdotes about his own rocky experiences. five days ago was the last time you even saw simon.

which was along the lines of his orders, only you took it a step further, just so he couldn’t say you were disobeying him yet again: not seeing you at all.

usually five days would have you clawing at the walls to even catch a glance at simon across the room, but with your last conversation repeating in your head, it acted as a BALM to the ache of being away from him. a wake up call when you were alone in bed, thinking about how easily he can get you to sleep.

but simon-induced insomnia was definitely a drawback. midnight came and went without a wink of sleep for the third night in a row. so when a series of insistent knocks pounded on your door, it was almost a blessing. something to do and blame on for the lack of sleep.

stumbling through the dark, shivering slightly from the loss of a lukewarm bed, you make it to the door and swing it open. “hello?”

in your groggy mind, you’d predicted that maybe it was a drunken soap and gaz stopping by after a night of drinks. or more hopefully, price suddenly deciding to cut your leave time short under dire circumstances.

simon’s presence was itself like a ghost tonight. there and not there. he stood imposingly, and when you blinked, his body was looser. he said nothing for a few brief moments, and it made you wonder if you really were looking at him.

but the weight of his hands on your shoulders was unmistakeable. and when he backed you into your room, you caught a hint of his scent, and it suddenly reminded you of all the times he’d come here late at night. quickly tugging him inside before anyone can see. this was similar but different. just slightly off, like the very first day summer turns to autumn.

you try to say his name, but it comes out more like a FEARFUL yelp. hands coming up to grasp his wrists, unsure of his intentions and past experiences with men much bigger than you only makes things more blurry.

it’s in his grip on your shoulders, harder and more desperate. it’s in the way he kicked the door shut behind him, not caring if others in the hall may hear. it’s in the way he backs you into the wall, hand coming up to protect your head but also crushing your body with his own.

“simon,” you gasp, but your misgivings are cut off when he crashes his lips against yours.

he’s only ever kissed you like this once before. after a mission gone HORRIBLY wrong, and he was blaming himself. you went to him, knowing he’d isolate and not allowing it. wanting to be there for him, and the only way you really could was to distract him from the knowledge of his own fuck up.

he doesn’t reply with words. just a short hum that thunders in his chest - with how close he holds you, it’s impossible not to feel it vibrate your own ribs. it isn’t until your hands are on his arms, gripping tightly, do you feel the cold dampness of rain that left its mark on him. how long has he been outside? why did he walk here in the middle of the night during a storm?

his muscles are hard and taut under your fingers. the temptation to simply feel them stretch and flex, letting simon have his way with you, was undeniably strong.

but you haven’t seen him in five days.

when you push him away, simon relents. but he doesn’t go too far. you taste his toothpaste on your tongue and realize he’s wearing an old t-shirt under his wet jacket - a failed attempt to sleep, it seems. you knew the feeling too well.

“why are you here?” a bit of embarrassment rises at the sound of your own voice - it sounds too SOFT and pliable, especially against the silence of night and a distant roll of thunder. you meant it to be harder. simon deserved a bit of attitude. but… well, it’s been five days.

his thumb caress over a little spot on your shoulder. a flash of lightning reveals his expression - he wasn’t hiding. “to talk,” simon replies in a stony voice.

the sound of it makes you shiver. it was hard and rough and reminded you a little too much of your last conversation. and with him looming over you, trapped between him and the wall, it was hard not to feel small again. to try and square up against a titan like simon, even if you feel the outline of his cock slowly begin to press against your stomach.

he leans in to kiss you again - another contradiction. but you keep him away, and your hands hold him back is like a leash on a dog. “i don’t know if we have anything to talk about.”

“i’m sorry, alright? i’m sorry. i’m…” he trails off with a sigh, head lowering as if to break eye contact. with the dark of night and his silence, it’s hard to gauge what he’s thinking. how he’s feeling. but you do know that simon rarely ever apologizes. not so outright, anyway. maybe a cup of tea exactly the way you like it after a little disagreement, or a kiss on the cheek if he annoyed you. never this.

he doesn’t try to kiss you again - when he leans back in, it’s to press his head against yours. “i love you. you know that, right?”

your hands grip his arms tighter. not to keep him away, but to stop him from leaving again. “yes,” you breathe out.

“if anything ever happens to you, and i could’ve stopped it…” another sigh comes out - HARSHER this time. as if the thought itself riles simon up. “maybe i was being overprotective, yeah? shouldn’t’ve gone that far. i told price earlier today that he outta include you on the next op. he agreed.”

“simon.” his name is a whisper. a morning mist. your hands finally drop from his arms, and he wastes no time in getting close again. large arms wrapping around your body - and even in the dead of night, his lips find yours with no hesitation.

you expect the kiss to be rougher than it was. a kiss after so long apart from each other usually includes a graze of teeth or his tongue chasing yours. instead, it’s slower. gentle in a way that simon has learned to be. lips interlocking with yours as if holding your hand, and you don’t even notice you’re close to crying until he breaks it to breathe and your throat aches.

“‘m sorry.” his hands slide from your shoulders to curve around each cheek, as if he’s cradling something precious. but when lightning strikes again, it must’ve been much closer than last time - it completely lights up simon’s face for the briefest moment. and the way he’s watching you is opposite from how he talks and touches.

“i know.” tired of feeling his cold, damp coat, your hands push it aside to press against the hard, hot plane of his torso. simon lets out a shaky breath, which turns into a hitch when you greedily push the offensive old cotton of his shirt up to touch his skin - utterly untouched by the rain and it nearly BURNS you.

“‘m sorry.” he curls against you, face burying into your neck and hips grinding lightly against yours. he’s wearing jeans, but you’re wearing shorts - it’s plain as day how much he’s missed you. or more truthfully, how hard it makes him at the thought of making up for his asshole behavior with his tongue and hands and cock.

one of your legs is pushed up and out to make room for his hips - curling around his thigh and being utterly dependent on him and the wall to stay upright. “simon, please…”

“forgive me?”

beneath the rough GRATING of his voice - the way it gets when simon is so close to just ripping your clothes off and having you against the closest hard surface - you heard a tinge of amusement. teasing, as if he didn’t just apologize for the worst fight you’ve ever had and isn’t still on thin ice.

in his favor, it’s hard to be angry with someone when they’re pushing their hand down the front of your shorts. waiting on your answer before sinking a finger in and stretching you out.

there’s no hesitation. you answer at the same time your hips buck forward, forcing simon to slide his fingers against your cunt. knowing he couldn’t stop once he realized how soaked you were. how you’d forgiven him the moment he darkened your doorstep and gave you a fright in the middle of the night.

“yes.”

☾

growing up, simon always associated fear with weakness. cowardice. a flaw in his character. it’s just a thing he left behind in his childhood next to his teddy bear. in spite what his reputation may say, he still feels the inklings of fear now and again. apprehension before a big mission. concern about his comrades. maybe some trepidation in the seconds before shit really hits the fan.

but the white hot horror that hit him when a building collapsed right on top of you? a TERROR so paralyzing, simon could barely scream your name, much less run to you?

that wasn’t something he had too much experience in.

it took soap shoving him from behind to get simon to move his legs. slam his boots against the dirt, calling out your name in a hollow hope he’d hear you call his back. not that he’d even hear it with the blood pulsing in his ears, still ringing from the explosion, soap and gaz both yelling your name alongside him.

simon reached the wreckage first - the dust and dirt floating in the air was still thick, and even through his mask, he tasted it. coughed on it. ignored it to start tearing back wood and stone and steel. where were you when the building got hit? on the edge, or right in the center? fuck, simon can’t even remember. he swore he saw you by the stairs, but you were still running, so maybe you were at the door by the time the walls started falling?

“fuck, fuck, fuck…” sand gritted between his teeth as he cursed. his glove had a hole in the palm and he’s pretty sure the splintered wood cut him there but he can’t feel it. not when simon keeps expecting to shove aside a rock and find your broken, battered body.

“lieutenant!”

he nearly snarled at gaz’s voice, not bothering to look up. “look over there! call rescue services - tell ‘em we need excavation teams!” simon threw a hand in the general direction of a pile of rubble.

bloody hell, he was right. he felt so fucking GUILTY recommending you off the op and he was right. simon’s suddenly wishing he’d just grown a fucking backbone against you for once. put his foot down and just faced the brunt of your anger because then you wouldn’t be trapped under debris in some god forsaken country.

“ghost, stop a second!”

you always told him how jealous you were of him. ‘things would be so much easier for me if i was as fearless as you.’

fuck, what would you say if you knew his hands were shaking so badly, he could barely grip pieces of debris? that his terror CHOKED him more than the smoke. that he couldn’t decide which frightened him more - finding you broken or not finding you at all.

“simon.”

again, he froze. a decade of war and fighting and blood, and simon has frozen twice in one day.

“hey, you okay?”

“yeah, i think i am.”

“anything broken?”

“other than the building?”

“yer real fuckin’ funny, lass. sure price’ll like that one when he finds out you almost got caught in all ‘at.”

when simon turns, he can’t even blame the smoke or his fucked up head for seeing you standing there, completely fine. leaning on gaz for what seems like a hurt foot, and taking soap’s canteen to wash down the smoke. but alive. smiling. turning and looking at him and motioning him over.

he’s silent as he stumbles back. boot slipping on loose debris here and there, but nothing that would stopped him from getting to you.

and once he’s close, you push off of gaz. knowing simon would catch you and hold you, and that’s what he fucking does. not truly believing you were okay until he felt you breathing against him. heard your voice right against his chest. “i’m okay, si. got out just in time. calm down.”

“i am calm.”

he wasn’t lying. he’s never lied to you. the flash of fear ran hot but burned out fast, already fading into a reassured calm - still as ash.

his eyes fall shut for a moment before you speak up again. "simon, don't be mad..."

he tenses up at your words, fingers suddenly clutching a little tighter. fuck, do you ever give him a break? "what's wrong?" simon asks, pulling back to really look at you. eyes scanning every inch, thinking maybe you were hurt more than he thought and wondering why he would be UPSET about it.

"i changed my mind." his eyes dart back up at your answer. "i want to take some time off."

new bruises were forming over old bruises on your face. but when you smiled, simon thought it was just about the best thing he's ever seen.

"i was thinking the same thing."

#call of duty x reader #cod x reader #cod fanfic #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #ghost x you #ghost x y/n

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cedarwoodtears · 12 days ago

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i loved reading your general headcanons! could you do jossam focused headcanons please 🙏

HAIII HAI YES YESSSSSSSSSSSSSS starts growling and going insane these two. ough. ough my heart anon please call the ambulance. i’m having a heart attack. pleabe.

• josh is a sleepyhead and loves cuddling with sam in bed whenever he can!!! she finds it so cute bc they’ll get in bed and then not even 5 minutes later he is absolutely PASSED OUT curled up next to her like a cute little kitty. they always have at least one blanket on them though josh gets cold pretty easily…sam doesn’t like taking midday naps though so she usually just goes on her phone or watches a show quietly until josh gets up…he tends to move around a lot though so. sometimes he’s basically trying to roll over her LMFAOOO

• sam lets josh do her hair every once in awhile!! it’s mostly braids because he finds the process relaxing and he can just admire sam while doing it…so sappy josh hehe…normally it comes loose after an hour or so because well i never said he was good just that he enjoys it…he thinks she’s looks SO adorable with them though. josh tends to call her anna (from frozen) and it annoys her a bit bc it’s not even the right hair color 😒 he knows though teehee.

• they do NOT mess around when it comes to overcooked. they are the absolute power couple in games despite the times they bicker or poke fun at each others skill or mess around they work so well together. half the time neither of them even has to say more than a word because they’ve played together so much. when it’s just them they play great but if other people join it falls apart…sam tries to keep everyone calm and not yelling at each other while josh is messing around behind her back and throwing food away to get everyone more riled up hehe

• sam and josh own an off-roader and you best bet those two love going up into the mountain. well sam moreso than josh but he comes along! he usually trails behind her since he feels more comfortable that way, sam likes to lead things a lot more when it comes to nature. josh brings his camera and takes about 500 million photos of the trees and sam and then prints them out later to hang up around his room…sam makes SURE she brings proper snacks and hydration too. that’s always her main rule: be prepared. they venture out more when it’s warmer though just because josh prefers that..

• josh still loves pranking her. obviously not to the extent of the game but little things. like moving the stuff on her desk off ever so slightly or hiding fake spiders in the cupboards and laughing when she gets scared opening them…there’s always a new thing each day. he likes really bad ones too like prank calling her pretending to be a 10 year old and asking “is your fridge running” and she’s like “josh i know that’s you i can hear you in the other room. and this is your phone number” and he starts giggling but still goes on with the joke LMFAOO it’s so painfully unfunny he loves it..he can’t get enough

• they LOVE making sweets for each other. if sam is having a really bad day josh will whip up some lemon cupcakes for her (it’s her favorite) and vice versa sam will bake some banana bread for him (guess what. ITS HIS FAVORITE!!!). they stock up on a shit tom of baking goods for that reason whenever they run out of flour or sugar it is an absolute EMERGENCY!!!!!!! CRITICAL ALERT!!!!!!!! that rarely ever happens though unless either one of them bakes something for the crew and misjudges how much they used…

• josh is just a little addicted to caffeine while sam doesn’t really drink it..she’s much more of a water drinker (just like me fr) and knows too much is bad but joshy boy doesn’t listen smh…he goes to tim hortons every morning and afternoon and orders the same exact medium coffee with 1 creamer & sugar, with 2 pumps of caramel syrup. every. morning. sometimes he’ll grab sam a donut if he’s feeling nice hehe..regardless sam is always telling him how it’s not good and that he should have more water but he’s like “ehhhhhh ill be good”

• sam always loves to have little movie nights in her room and have the proper candle mood lighting and it’s relaxing…so relaxing josh tends to fall asleep bc it’s normally later at night, dim, and the tv is kinda quiet PLUS her bed is so comfy. but he does his best to stay awake. he can’t help that his girlfriend is so warm and soft and so comfy to lie against and just close his eyes…sam will ask him in the morning like “do you remember what ____ said? that was so wild” and he’s like “totally baby…yeah” and cough and look around josh you are fooling NO ONE!!

• they are almost complete opposites when it comes to body heat bro josh is literally like a walking corpse HES SO COLDDDDD everytime he touches sam she literally shivers and flinches it’s like having an ice cube directly on you. sam jokes that he’s a lizard because he’s like perma cold. that’s why sam is more than happy to cuddle with him a ton because even if it’s cold at first he’ll warm up eventually…she just has to suffer a bit with his icey hands TEEHEE i mean hey when it’s a hot day she finds it pretty nice!!

#until dawn #sam giddings #joshua washington #jossam #until dawn headcanons #the sillies!!!#ough they’re so adorable i can’t #second favorite straight couple FR!!

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valewritessss · 6 months ago

Text

Reasons why people hate Annabeth Chase and why I disagree. Warning: this a very long rant and some of these might be a little controversial

1. Annabeth didn’t have any trauma as a child compared to Percy she was only being dramatic.

Does being attacked by hundreds of spiders and waking up in webs every night sound pleasant to you? With nobody believing her because they would go away?

Whenever they say she didn’t suffer at home there are always some underlying tones of them thinking abuse isn’t abuse if it isn’t physical, and then translating that into Annabeth having a good childhood and making things up.

Why would she want to have a bad childhood is my question? And true it may seem like it wasn’t so bad since Percy even said it didn’t seem like it was as bad as she described it upon first meeting her parents, but I don’t even agree with Percy thinking that because why would he, of all people, not understand that people can hide behind nice faces? I honestly think that part was on Rick because he’s kind of gone back and forth with Annabeth’s home situation so it’s a little confusing.

But back to why would she want to have a bad childhood I think those people are the kind that compare trauma and thinkhaving more trauma=being better. But last time I checked, having a bad home situation/childhood isn’t really something people should want for themselves.

Annabeth may have not been physically abused but being accused of playing tricks to make webs appear on her skin instead of being comforted, being reprimanded for accidentally scaring her brothers even though she was the one being attacked, being blamed for attracting monsters even though she can’t control it, that doesn’t like like a happy time to me.

2. Annabeth is possessive of Percy too much she gets jealous way too easily.

Jealousy isn’t really a bad thing unless it is toxic, and I’ve seen no signs of Annabeth’s jealousy being toxic. Her haters, however, probably say otherwise.

The first time we see her get jealous is when Rachel shows up, and if I’m going to be completely honest why shouldn’t she be a little jealous? When she first sees Rachel it’s when Percy and her were supposed to go to the movies and she’s 14 years old so she’s going to act a little petty. Sorry, a traumatized 14 year old girl isn’t exactly going to handle her emotions like a mature adult. Annabeth has her little “was it hard?” moment and it was pretty obvious it was supposed to come off as funny and many people do think it was. If you didn’t think it was funny that’s fine and it’s also fine if you think it was wrong. But toxic? Really?

The next time we see her get jealous is when Percy comes back from Ogygia and she hugs him and storms off. Her best friends just died for two weeks but suddenly came back I think it’s understandable why she would be a little overwhelmed. Chiron says that she’s jealous because she knows where he was. She never really brings it up but she probably had some internal jealousy because why wouldn’t she be jealous when Percy could have chosen to live a peaceful life in Ogygia with Calypso, war-free. But he didn’t, and she didn’t bring it up(I think). Safe to say she was definitely not being toxic here.

The most prominent time she was jealous is when Percy says they need Rachel for the labyrinth and again, why wouldn’t she be jealous? It’s HER quest, and she was already insecure about Percy leaving her for Rachel so him telling her they need her for her quest is obviously going to make her mad. And she did act pettily towards Rachel and she did get ticked off very easily but let’s not forget where this all stems from.

Her entire life people have been abandoned her and left her for other people. Her dad, Thalia, Luke, and now she meets a mortal girl that has her best friend and crush’s attention which to her means she could potentially take Percy from her. Yeah, no shit she’s gonna be jealous. And it’s also a normal teenage emotion to be jealous of another person. So sorry, if a teenage girl doesn’t handle her emotions maturely.

Then, Percy reasonably spends his “last” summer away from camp and unfortunately for annabeth, with Rachel. This is not me saying Percy or Rachel did anything wrong but neither did Annabeth in being mad at him. It was mostly that she was just heartbroken because she was about to lose him, but he chose to spend his last moments being normal, something she could never be. She also spent most of her life being abandoned by someone so this was like it was happening all over again.

I’ve seen someone say she was jealous of Hazel and it was possessive because she automatically assumed Percy and her had something. Huh???? She thought of the possibility for 3 seconds and then was like, nah, she’s dating the other guy next to Percy. And it was a possibility because she saw Jason, who had lost his memories and didn’t know if he had someone waiting for him, get together with Piper so who’s to say it couldn’t have happened with Percy?

None of these seem toxic to me and it’s fine if you don’t like it for your relationship but clearly, Percy doesn’t think much about her jealousy afterwards once they got together. In fact, Percy gets jealous a lot too he’s just not as expressive about it.

3. She physically abused Percy.

This seems to be a popular one and people love to use it out of context. Annabeth and Percy both have sparring and fighting history together, so naturally they’re not going to be the gentlest of people with each other. They know how to punch, hit, and shove each other so that it doesn’t hurt since they train together. And while it is mostly annabeth that does it, Percy has never said it hurts or that he doesn’t like it. And last time I checked, he’s pretty good at calling people and gods out on their shit. If he had an issue with it he would say it.

An example of the abuse they are referring to is the judo flip. The context for this is that Percy went missing for months and Annabeth being overwhelmed, relieved, and just emotional decides to judo flip him upon reuniting with him. What a lot of people forget to mention is that right after, while he is being pinned down by Annabeth, he laughs. He laughs and they all move on. Judo flips, according to my research, are not supposed to hurt. They only hurt if they are done wrong. There is a chance my research is wrong so if anyone wants to correct me go ahead. But assuming it is right, the judo flip Annabeth did to Percy probably didn’t hurt nor was it meant to.

And Percy has experienced physical abuse before, and he hated the man that did it. He most likely would not get into a relationship with someone who does that. And he has called Annabeth out on things before, he had no trouble getting mad at her in botl, so if he seriously didn’t like it he would most likely say something.

Again, if you don’t want that in your relationship that’s great, YOU should set those boundaries with YOUR partner. But you can’t speak for a fictional character that clearly doesn’t have any issues with the way his partner treats him.

4. Annabeth makes jokes at the expense of Percy and makes him feel dumb.

There are some times when she does make jokes about Percy to his face, and he either laughs or doesn’t care. The books are from his pov, it’s not hard to see how it doesn’t bother him.

The nickname “Seaweed Brain” was her teasing him at first but it then became endearing for the both of them. This was the same for the nickname “Wise Girl”. Percy even likes the nickname and he has never said it makes him feel belittled or dumbed down.

I think where this stems from is people who think giving Annabeth credit is discrediting him. Someone mentions how she helped Percy with something and they will go on about how Percy isn't dumb and it's like we know he isn't dumb, no one said he is. Giving her credit isn’t taking credit away from him and many people need to hear that. Someone will mention how Annabeth will teach Percy something that he wouldn't have figured out on his own and oh my god people go feral. "Annabeth held up the sky" they translate that to Percy didn't do shit. Someone will say Annabeth is one of the smartest and they think that means they're saying Percy is stupid. Sorry that a girl being smart makes you insecure? Because that’s what I’m getting from that take. Percy is smart too but taking that away from Annabeth to give it to him isn’t exactly how that works. Life isn’t a competition, you don’t constantly have to be ranking people. There’s enough smartness for everyone. No one is taking anything away from Percy by admitting she is super smart or by giving her credit for stuff she did!!

You don’t hear people saying Annabeth can’t swim because Percy can control water, so why do people think people are saying Percy is dumb because Annabeth is incredibly smart? Annabeth knows she is smart, and she herself says Percy is smart TWICE, not that because she is smart that Percy is dumb. She is smart, and that takes nothing away from Percy and vice versa. They both think differently and do different things while in combat you just can’t compare those. Intelligence doesn’t just come in one form and admitting one is smart doesn’t make the other not smart. Say it with me, Annabeth is smart, Percy is smart, those things can both be true at the same time. Annabeth can be credited for things and that does not discredit Percy. For the people who say it makes Percy insecure that Annabeth shows her intelligence I promise you when Annabeth says something nerdy it doesn’t hurt Percy’s feelings.

It is true that Percy’s intelligence is overlooked, that is an issue. But you don’t have to bring someone else down to build him up okay there’s many great moments showing his intelligence use those instead. Also because if you have to bring someone else down to make your fav seem better you’re not doing your fav any favors it makes them look like someone needs to come down to their level and that’s not what’s happening with Percy. Don’t do him dirty like that he can be smart on his own you don’t have to mention Annabeth.

Sorry I kind of got off topic I just saw a chance to address an issue I’ve seen where people think giving Annabeth credit is taking away from Percy. This sometimes happens the other way around but it’s mostly the people who do this that hate her.

5. Annabeth defended Luke and it was inconsiderate of her since he tried to kill Percy.

She didn’t really defend him she just said there’s still good in him. And I mean this did make Percy mad. He was mad at her for even mentioning Luke because he was jealous, and because he didn’t understand how she could still think there’s good in him after all he did. And that’s valid. But that doesn’t mean it’s “a heartbreaking realization for a Percy that Annabeth chooses Luke over him” in the words of someone who used this argument, when she said there’s still good in him. Annabeth was betrayed by Luke too, and say what you want about her holding hope but it makes sense that she still sees good in him. I mean, that’s the guy who she views as a hero, who was a hero to her. And in the end her holding onto that hope is what broke Luke’s trance and he decided to stab himself. So if you found it annoying that she believed in him that makes sense, but don’t pretend you can’t understand why she did it.

6. Annabeth was a bitch to Rachel and is not a girls girl.

Honestly, was she nice to Rachel? No. Did Rachel deserve Annabeth’s comments? No. Is Annabeth valid? Yeah. I’m not justifying her behavior but I am justifying her reasoning because it is so obvious it went beyond jealousy.

Rachel not doing anything wrong and Annabeth being valid can co-exist. Seeing Annabeth’s perspective of this is so easy we just have to think about how the person she loves might pick someone normal over her since she can’t be normal. On his last summer too. This wasn’t just “jealous girl is mean to other girl” trope it was showing how deeply Annabeth cherishes Percy and how when she sees him picking someone else over her she is going to not be nice.

Should she have said those things to Rachel, um probably not. But she is a teenager also and it’s super normal for a teenager to get jealous and bratty when her crush and best friend spend time with a girl that also has a crush on him. It wasn’t Annabeth’s finest moment but it was entertaining and personally I thought it was funny. I swear a lot of people act as if she grabbed Rachel by her hair and smashed her against a wall but it was just some catty remarks. And a lot of people forget that Rachel and Annabeth are friends now, they like each other, they forgave each other.

And on her not being a girls girl? I think some people need to touch some grass because why should she have been a girls girl at that moment? Was she supposed to tell Rachel to go for it? I understand wanting her to just leave Rachel alone but after Rachel had to lead HER quest I’m not sure what they were expecting. She made up for it anyway when she saved Rachel from a helicopter despite still disliking her.

7. Annabeth got scared of Percy which made him feel like he deserved to die.

I’m pretty sure I’ve written about this before but I guess I’ll go over it again. Her boyfriend did something scary, that probably reminded her of Luke since they both went too far, so she got scared. God forbid scary things scare her.

And secondly, did Percy ever tell Annabeth he was having those thoughts? No. Stop blaming her for everything this time she is actually 110% innocent.

8. She is powerless and therefore she is useless.

She doesn’t have any unnatural powers but being crazy smart sounds pretty useful to me. Bonus points because she’s good at many kinds of combat too.

If they think they don’t need her fine, but they did in fact need her so we’re never gonna know the other possibility.

Even strength has to bow to wisdom sometimes.

This doesn’t mean the other demigods don’t have wisdom but like it’s Annabeth Chase wisdom is kind of her thing.

Anyways, I kind of got tired of writing this and I can’t think of anything else so I’m gonna end it here. I hope this doesn’t come off as hate to any other character, because it’s not, nor do I see how it could be but people will find a way so this is clarification. People can hate whatever character they want to hate but these reasons are not really much sense. And if they expect people to hate her for these reasons too even less sense. And people are allowed to hate her, but they love to talk about it so much it’s like an obsession.

And to those who told me to tag them I hope this wasn’t a waste of your time because I tried and it took me forever😅

@annabethmyfave

@illneverforget365

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dearest-painter · 2 years ago

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I didn’t do anything wrong! PT.1

Summary: Y/N was just living their best life or as best as it can get as spider-man/women. Y/N misses their old friends but understands that they must be busy but once they go to a place that is filled with people wanting them as their child but also to write their story they get pissed off

TW/CW:Yandere behavior, unhealthy behavior, unhealthy relationship,abusive behavior,abusive relationship,Reader is Miles morals,Reader is tired and trying their best,very out of character characters,this is a series,Reader needs therapy,Reader will be forced into the spider society,I fuck up the movie a lot just so I can make this a bit more sense,Reader is forced to visit Spider society and be away from their actual family,Reader is paranoid and worried all the time now,this doesn’t completely go with the plot as it’ll be a bit different,Reader is mentioned to have selfed harmed because I wanna represent that more as I wanna show that everyone has had tough times even in wrong ways as I’ve selfed harmed in the past so this does mean a lot to me,Reader is basically forced to be around people they don’t want to be around,people might be out of character,tell me if I need to add more

PT.2

Hiding, that’s all your doing. Your panting and scared as people have chased you down for no reason at all! You covered your mouth as you started to cry, you wanted your mom, you wanted your dad, you wanted your uncle just so you can be comforted but no here you are stuck in some society that your scared of being in! It’s so easy for you to cry silently especially with your mouth being covered as you’ve done it many times in the past.

You want your dad to hold you again while comforting you as your mom made your comfort food as he also reassured your safe, you want your uncle Aaron to ruffle your hair while cracking up jokes to cheer you up. You just want to be with your family again but no your uncles dead and your in some strange place with people chasing you! What’s worse is that Gwen and Peter B seemed to be in on it!

Suppose you were to deep in thought to realize someone found you. “Heya” You jumped and crawled away very scared as you saw the women, she was pregnant. “Hey I’m not here to hurt you, I know it must be scary in a new place with new people” “Yeah especially when those people are chasing you and one of them literally has talons while you were unwilling forced to be here, of course I’d be scared! I just wanna go home!” You cried more. Jessica felt so bad, you didn’t deserve this but seeing you cry remind her of a child and she saw you as a child but her child even if you two weren’t biologically related.

She crouched down while holding her belly as she sat beside you, you were not crying because of fear now but now because of anger. “Listen…I understand that your stressed and scared but everyone here just wants the best for you” “and my biological parents are the best for me!? They’ve protected me and raised me all my life! What makes this place safer then my parents arms!” She sighed again, she knew it was to much to ask you to calm down as you had a right to be mad. “I know that it’s just…most people here believe that your safer here as no danger can get you and you don’t have to deal with being spider-man/women/person, even if you wanna be that person they are scared that you’ll lose one of those fights one day”

You scoffed, people who you don’t know are worried for you? That sounds creepy as shit. “Look I know your trying to comfort me but when you see it from my perspective it’s creepy as people I don’t know and didn’t know exist know about me and where I live, they know about my whole life basically and they worry for me. When your taken from the only place you know is home by people who know so much of you but you know so little of them it’s terrifying. You understand now?” She nodded her head. “Yeah now I do, let’s just sit here while you calm down” You nodded your head at the pregnant women.

“I’m Jessica drew” “Y/N Morales…nice to meet ya Ms.drew” she chuckled a bit at your formality, that was something she found cute about you other then your smile.

#yandere #please don’t do this #obession #unhealthy #platonic yandere #yandere platonic #gn reader #x gn reader #yandere x gn reader #yandere x gender neutral reader #gender neutral reader #romantic yandere #part 1 of many #yandere spider man across the spider verse #I didn’t do anything wrong series #yandere spiderverse #Miles!reader

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i-cannot-spell-chaos · 2 years ago

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A little seasoning from the upcoming spider man fiction I'm writing

yandere Miguel o hara x spider villain mentioned male mainly gender neutral reader

These stories were cut off from the original draft and made into short stories here is Miguel o Hara's next is the platonic yandere stories. Which includes earth- 42 platonic yandere.

(Forced kissing warning)

Videos and photos story 1:

It had been a few month since you had met Miguel and Peter b. You never understood how everyone was scared of Miguel. Sure he was mean at times but you understood his cause. While fuck the agency the only reason you were there was to be a doctor. You felt like Miguel had something to hide. Since everyone had secrets of their own right?

Well one night you were called in for to Miguel's office. Walking in you expected others to be there but saw no one. Miguel must have left to go get something after calling you. You looked around for Miguel one last time before scrambling to his desk. Going through his stuff was easy it was figuring out what to look at first was the troubling part.

You clicked a random file and your face froze. You recognized the pictures and videos of yourself. You tried to think of reasons why he had them but the more you scrolled through them the more you realized. This was you but not you. A different universe where your canon event didn't happen where you never became spider man. The one where you die in the alley instead. That universe wasn't alone it was filled with different versions of you. Horror filled you as it led to pictures of your universe.

"What are you doing?" you recognized that voice your eyes still filled with dread as you looked up at him. "Uh..." The awkardness was interrupted when teen came into the room. You quickly closed the file and went to greet them. Gwen was the most excited to see you after a while. You let her stay in your home when she needed it so the two of you were close. She introduced you Miles a new Spider man. He held out his hand awkardly as you grabbed it gladly smiling, "I'm The doctor...or as they say 'Doctor Venom" but you call call me Doctor v or as everyone around you age calls me Uncle" You said smiling doing a bit of a dad pose with the hands on your hips. He replied with a tight hug.

Miguel coughed getting everyone's attention "Miles you not supposed to be in here" He said scowling at the kid. You looked at him confused before he continued "You an anomly you're not supposed to be here" this might be a good time to prepare your emergency exit. You snuck out of the room not wanting to hear anymore. However those images still stuck to you. How long had those images gone back had he been watching you for a while?

This is not Goodbye story 2:

You thrashed and tossed around Miguel's grip clawing at his hands to let you go. You wouldn't let him do this to an inoccent kid you saw Miles in you and needed to protect him. "I quit this agency!" You yell before biting down putting your venom deep into his veins. Miguel quickly dropped you gripping his hand.

It will take minutes for your venom to offcially kick in so you had a head start before he realized what you said. You quickly jumped looking around to where Miles could have run to and you saw him finally hiding. As you were about to run to him you heard Miguel.

Anxiety filled you as you turned around looking at the approaching beast. "Oh shit that's scary!" you ran for your life the sound of Miguel growing near got louder. You knew he was quicker but this had gone too far. You had gotten to a half point before the familiar webs stuck your shoe to the ground. You looked at the approaching Miguel who had drool coming out of mouth....gross.

You tried pulling your shoes out of the webbing but it would unstick. The only option left was to untye your shoelace. Halfway on undoing the not you felt breathing on your face. "Not even a goodbye kiss you little thief" His clawed hand ran through your locks before grabbing them at the roots. "You did a number on me stealing from me!" He yelled at you wiping the drool off his face. "You have no proof!" You barked back in his face causing him to grin.

"But i do my little thief" Miguel grabbed your hand leading it to his chest. You could feel his heartbeat against it. "You stole my heart and my materials i'm not letting you get away that easily even if you do quit your staying here" He said thinking he won. You used your unstuck leg and kicked his head. Miguel grabbed your leg looking at you shocked before his eyes dripped closed. His heavy form landed on you.

You looked around for help but saw no one. Your venom kicked in at the worst time.

Goodbye kiss story 3:

"Aye where are you going!" Miguel yelled at causing you to pause and look up at him. "What?" he had just sent you to a mission and he was stopping you? "You had a bet and lost to me"

He remembered?

Last week the two of you made a bet on how long they can stay a fake couple. You bet two days before Miguel got tired of it and snapped at you. Miguel said he could do it for longer and said if he won every time you left you would give him a kiss. Well he did win the bet but you though he had forgotten.

"...." You looked at him then at the door. "No! come here!" Miguel yelled at you pointing at a spot next to him. Ignoring him you ran enraging him. Peter b parker was laughing at the sight of you running so quickly. Your lab coat flying behind you running towards your mission.

"All spider people (your name) and me have unfinished buisness bring them to me unharmed" Miguel said over the intercom. The spider people stopped before looking at you confused before shrugging and going with his orders. "Fuck!" you jumped quickly towards the exit slipping through before getting grabbed.

You let out a sigh before going towards the machine to send you to a different universe. Hopping in spider byte looked at you with a sorry look. Before cancelling the machine you looked at her with a shocked face. "damn" A crowd of spider people burst through the door dragging you back to hq to Miguel who was waiting for you.

"Leave everyone" almost everyone left except for peter who couldn't stop laughing for Miguel to worry. "Come here and give me that good bye kiss". You slowly walked over to him dragging your feet for as long as possible. "You suck" you said before giving him a quick kiss on the cheek. Before you could get far Miguel grabbed your arm and brought you into a kiss on the lips. His lips were rough against yours as he leaned in to deepen the kiss. You struggled pushing him away before he seperated the two of you looking at you with a shit eating grin. "Loser"

#male reader #yandere #yandere male #yandere miguel o'hara #yandere spiderman #gender neutral reader #yandere spiderverse

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yesthisismycurrenthyperfixation · 2 years ago

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@little-box-of-autism thank you so much for the prompts. Hope this doesn't disappoint. I saw it and couldn't get it out of my head.

Prompt: Lo'ak reacted violently when he learned Spider saved Quaritch. It's been five years and when he sees Spider again, he can't ignore the scars he gave him.

Lo'ak leaves Spider Scarred: Part 1

“What did you just say?” Lo'ak asked, voice hard and cold.

Spider shrunk back, eyes refusing to meet Lo’ak’s gaze. He had never been scared of the other boy before. He had always felt safe around him, trusted Lo'ak to protect him. But Lo'ak had never looked at him with so much hatred and anger before. “I found Quaritch and saved him.”

“After everything that monster did… to you, to our family, Neteyam is dead because of him, and you saved him?”

“Lo'ak, please listen-“ Spider began to beg.

“No! Stay the hell away from my family, traitor!”

Spider stepped forward, hand reaching out as if to grab the taller boy. “Lo'ak…”

The Na'vi snarled, fist lashing out with all of the boy’s strength. Knuckles connected with glass, the glass shattering and shards embedding into his hand. Lo'ak's momentum carried him forward and his, now glass covered hand, tore through the soft flesh of Spiders face.

Pain erupted through Spider as he gasped, lungs filling with Pandoran air. His face was burning as hot rivers poured down his face, neck and chest turning his world red. Eyes rolling into the back of his head, Spider collapsed. He couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe. The last thing he heard before unconsciousness took him was someone screaming his name.

Opening the inner door to the science shack Lo'ak grabbed a CO2 breather. It had been years since he had returned to the forest. It no longer felt like home. No, home was crystal clear blue waters, salty air, sand between his toes and cuddling up with Tsireya, his mate, every night.

Lo'ak hoped he could finish his father’s business by the next day, he missed home.

“Jake, your late.” A recognizable voice hollered, moving closer.

The Na'vi smiled. “Sorry Norm, dad injured himself so he sent me instead.”

“Lo'ak!” Norm shouted back, coming into view. “I haven’t seen you in years. How are you man?” Norm looked him up and down. “Dude, you’re massive! Jake was complaining you were bigger than him now but he didn’t tell me you were built like a mountain.”

Lo'ak laughed. “Dad still complains to mom about it all the time.”

“I bet he does.” The human chuckled. “So did Jake tell you… Oh shit!” Norm cut himself off as the sound of the outside door opening met their ears. The human's eyes were wide as he turned to look at the inner door.

“What's wrong?” Lo'ak asked. Just then the pressure lock beeped and the door opened to reveal another human. This one was barefoot, wearing faded brown cargo shorts, a red tank top and had a bag slung over his powerful shoulders.

“You're back early.” Norm said, trying to sound nonchalant but failing miserably.

The newcomer removed his mask allowing Lo'ak to see a mass of scars on the right side of his face. “Forgot the specimen jars, how dumb is that?”

Lo’ak froze. He knew that voice, knew who it belonged to. “Spider?” He said sounding shaky.

The human froze, shoulders pulled up to his ears and short curly blond hair falling forward as if to hide the scars covering his skin.

“Spider, bro? Is that you?” Lo'ak asked, smile spreading across his face.

“Don’t call me that.” Spider whispered.

Lo'ak looked confused. “Call you what?”

“Bro, don’t call me that.”

“Why not? You're my brother.”

Spider reacted almost violently to Lo'ak's words. Spinning on the Na'vi and giving Lo'ak a full view of his face. Spiders right eye was white and milky, the outer corner pulled into a permanent squint by a long scar that ran from his eye back, above his ear. There were two other such scars, all three lined up. Lo'ak had seen similar scars on the head of another human before, one he had only seen in videos as a kid. Spider’s cheek, forehead and chin on the right side were also covered in small raised lines but they weren't as visible as the main three. Lo'ak took in the sight with wide horrified eyes.

“We haven't been brothers in a long time, in fact we never were.” Spider seethed; his one good eye boring into Lo’ak taking in his expression. “I can’t tell if your proud of your handy work or disappointed I survived.”

He felt like Spider had just slapped him.

Spider turned to Norm. “Radio me when he is gone and I’ll come back.” With that the human grabbed his mask and vanished through the still open inner air seal door, pulling it closed with a click.

Lo'ak stared after him mouth agape as tears filled his eyes. He had felt bad when his dad had pulled him aside five years ago to explain why Spider had saved Quaritch.

Spider had told Lo'ak's parents first, they had let him explain before passing judgement. Something Lo'ak, his best friend hadn’t done. No, instead he had left Spider disfigured, broken, thinking he was hated.

A sob broke from his mouth, shoulders shaking as Lo'ak sunk to the ground, hands covering his mouth. What had he done?

Part 2 now available

#spider socorro #loak #avatar the way of water #loak leaves spider scarred

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milimeters-morales · 7 months ago

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chapter 5 of the transfem miles fic :3

Chapter 1 / Chapter 2 / Chapter 3 / Chapter 4 / Chap 6 / Chap 7 / Chap 8 / Chap 9

Wordcount: 4k+

Warnings: Someone's transphobic towards a side character, if you don't wanna read that then skip from "two in the afternoon" all the way to "Miles has been helping around the city all day"

“What did you say?”

Miles swallows down his hesitation, can feel the sweat running down his back, and breathes heavily out his nose.

“I… I told Peter and one of his friends… about us. Being together.” Each word feels like he’s digging further and further into his own grave.

Ganke takes off his glasses and rubs at his eyes, “That’s great, man. I honestly didn’t think you’d be ready.” He then places his glasses back on and turns back to play on his computer.

Miles stares at him, dumbfounded.

What?

“What?”

Ganke hums. “What? I mean, you’re always hiding me from everybody, I just didn’t expect you to--”

“No,” Miles says, “is… is that it? You aren’t mad? You’re not gonna leave?” He asks, voice shaking. He can feel the rocks in his stomach and the adrenaline making him his limbs feel light.

Ganke quickly turns to face him again, and Miles can see his eyes shining ever so slightly. Shit.

“Leave? What? Why would I do that?” He asks in disbelief. “Miles, you know I never really liked keeping us a secret. This is… actually amazing, I can tell my mom, you can tell your parents--”

Miles feels cold dread stab him in the stomach, and he holds in the “no” that wants to escape his mouth. Ganke’s eyes lighting up makes him bite the inside of his cheek.

“--well, maybe we can wait a bit before we tell my mom,” Ganke amends with a slightly bitter tone, “but no man, I’m not mad. Should we tell Gwen or do you think Pav told her already?”

Still trying to wrap his mind around Ganke not storming out of the dorm right now, Miles doesn’t respond. His heart feels like it’s beating way too fast, and he feels the sweat coming back full force, running down his face and back. His face feels hot, and he just wants to curl into himself until he gets so small that he merely pops out of existence.

“Ganke, I’m really sorry,” Miles finally says after a few unsure moments of silence. “I just… it was an accident, like with Pavitr. I didn’t actually want to… tell anyone? Not yet.”

Ganke actually pauses the game he’s playing, and fully turns in his chair to give Miles a quizzical look. “What?”

God, here comes the most difficult part.

Miles sits down on Ganke’s bunk, taking off his gloves and fidgeting with his fingers. “I’m still not ready. I know that… I know that you want to let people know, but I… just can’t. I’m--”

Ganke shakes his head, “You’re sorry, I know. I just… why? I mean, your parents are so supportive of literally everything else you do, the rest of your friends are going to accept us,” he trails off, looking away with a frown. “I know you’re scared, but we should at least tell… I want your parents to know about me, I don’t want to just keep lying to their faces and sneaking around all the time ...”

Miles looks down at his hands. He always knew that Ganke never really wanted their relationship to be secret, but already made it clear he wasn’t going to pressure Miles to come out to anybody before he was ready.

“I know, I know. I want to tell them too--”

“Do you?” Ganke interrupts, his tone causing Miles to look up and meet his eyes.

No , he thinks. “I… I already-- I’m Spider-Man, and you know they still aren’t… Look, I can’t keep pushing all this…” Miles struggles to get the rest of the sentence out as he realizes how bad it sounds.

The other boy seems to realize what he was going to say, because his gaze turns sharp, hurt flashing almost too quick for Miles to catch, before he sighs. “Miles, let’s… not. We’ll talk about this in the morning, or something.”

“Yeah,” Miles agrees numbly, crawling up into his own bunk and changing into his sleep clothes. “I love you, you know that.”

Ganke doesn’t respond, which makes the rocks that settled in Miles’s stomach feel like they were going to drag him through all the floors in this very building and into the Earth’s core, but when he looks over, he sees Ganke already has his headphones on, facing the wall.

He’s going to be sick. He’s overreacting to this, it’s normal for Ganke to be upset right now and not want to see him or talk to him any longer. They can work this out. They love each other, and that won’t change.

Miles leans back into his own bunk, and stares at the ceiling for the rest of the night.

____

The cool breeze stings his cheeks as he walks down the street with Ganke. His boyfriend. He squeezes his hand briefly.

“Miles, don’t. I know you don’t even wanna hold my hand right now,” Ganke mumbles.

“I do,” Miles insists, because he really does--

“But you’re scared,” Ganke says--

because he really is.

“I… I don’t want to be, I want to hold your hand,” Miles tries to insist, hating how weak his voice sounded. He did want this, why couldn’t he at least sound like it? “I don’t want to be scared of what anyone thinks--”

“How about this, we start slow. And on purpose, this time, we can…” Ganke trails off.

“You don’t think it’s a good idea,” Miles guesses.

“Well I don’t have any other plans, man. I don’t wanna just keep us secret for the rest of our lives,” Ganke says, tucking his hands in his pockets. His glasses fog up when he sighs, “But I don’t want to scare you off or anything. I don’t know.”

Miles turns his gaze to the ground.

“Maybe… yeah. We start slow. I can tell people… on purpose,” he agrees, swallowing the rocks in his throat. They settle back in his stomach, waiting.

“But you’re not sold on the idea?”

“No, no. But I can… try?” That’s what relationships are about, right? Trying? Meeting halfway and all that.

Ganke is quiet for a few minutes while they walk. His breath fogs up his glasses, and splashes from the puddles they step in are freezing, even through their pants.

“Yeah. Okay,” he mumbles. “Who do you have in mind?”

Nobody, but Miles doesn’t say that. He looks around, squinting at the slowly rising sun.

Alright, he could do this. He could try telling people. Pavitr and Peter already know, and they’ve done nothing but be supportive, or in Peter’s case, be annoying. The man probably told his wife, and his baby, who would’ve babbled nonsense back at him, and that friend-- Richard, he thinks-- probably…

Take a deep breath.

Probably didn’t tell anybody. He probably forgot all about it. Miles doesn’t even exist in that world, he would have no reason to go around telling people about some random guy’s relationship worries.

“Do you have anyone in mind?” Ganke asks him, unimpressed with the answering silence.

“Um… yes.”

“Really? Who?”

Miles gulps.

____

Even on Earth-42, a city that’s overrun with villains controlling more than they should, there’s still annoyingly loud morning traffic. Horn honking, tires screeching, car engines sputtering, and the jumbled muffled noise of people yelling at each other reaches Miles even when he’s hundreds of feet in the air. But it’s all just background noise. He’s not focusing on that. He’s focusing on how to not die inside trying to confess what he’s about to confess.

“So why did you make me come up here? You’re not here to pull an O’hara, right?” G. asks him, slowly coming closer to join him on the edge of the roof.

The two chuckle at their inside joke, but Miles notices the other’s tense shoulders. Does he really look like that right now too? He relaxes his shoulders just the tiniest amount.

“I just… wanted to tell you something. Away from Ma and Uncle Aaron-- it’s personal, so…”

“What? Did something happen? Is it about both of us?” G. suddenly straightened up from his slouch, eyes narrowing slightly.

Oh man, wouldn’t that be a relief.

“No, it’s just… I don’t want anyone else to know. It’s a secret.”

“Is it a girl?” G. asks hesitantly. “Uncle Aaron’s got better advice than me, though, so…”

Miles swallows the rocks in his throat back down to his stomach, where they finally settle and wait. He feels a shiver go down his spine, and sweat forms on his forehead. God, why didn’t he think to put his suit on before he came here? He could at least hide the more obvious tells that he was scared out of his mind.

“Nah, it’s not that,” certainly not a girl, “I just… uhh…”

Say it. Tell him. Tell him you’re-

“Did you kill somebody?”

“No! Dude, what the hell!” Miles shouts.

“Hey, don’t get loud with me! I was just asking! You look like you’re about to pass out!” G. grumbles, running a hand down one of his braids. “Probably shouldn’t be on the edge, come on.”

With a huff, Miles joins his alternate self in retreating from the roof’s edge and sitting down near the door leading to the stairwell. He picks up a pebble and tosses it up in the air repeatedly, trying to count his breaths.

He can do this. His anxiety and fears are irrational. Everything about G. shows that he’s bound to be accepting. And even if he isn’t, he wouldn’t gain anything by outing Miles to anyone else here, and he doesn’t even really care about Miles’s friends enough to want to tell them anything.

He can do this. If not for himself, then for Ganke. Ganke deserves it. His boyfriend deserves it.

“I’m…”

G. tilts his head, one brow raised.

Miles lets the rock drop and hides his face in his hands, groaning loudly. “I can’t do thiiissss…”

“Look man, you ain’t gotta tell me if you don’t want to,” G. tells him awkwardly, stiffly patting his shoulder in understanding. “I don’t tell you a lot of stuff.”

Miles peeks between his fingers. “Yeah? Like what?” He asks forlornly.

The other boy gives him a flat look. Yeah, okay.

“That’s the thing though,” Miles sighs, picking at his lip, something G. gently slaps his hand away for, “I want to tell you! It’s super important, and I kinda made a promise to tell you already.”

“And you hate breaking promises,” G. says. “But you hate telling me whatever this super important secret is… more than that.”

“You’re making it sound really bad.”

G. rolls his eyes, “Who did you even promise that to? Ma? Your dad?”

“Ganke. It’s super important to him that I tell somebody, and I promised to tell you like… earlier this morning. I hate breaking promises to him, man.” Miles wonders if that was too much information to give, and that G. would guess what he was supposed to confess anyway. Shit, that would be way worse than him just outright saying it… what if G. guesses it and stays quiet about it but secretly hates him because of that?

Stop it, stop it brain, Miles thinks to himself, furrowing his brows.

“Ganke? Is this about… y’know--”

Miles swears his heart stops for a second.

“--his crush?”

His WHAT?

“Yeah, Barbara? She’s… shit, you didn’t know?!” G.’s eyes widen, and he waves his hands as if trying to dispel the words. “Then forget about it!”

Miles stands up, feeling like ice cold water was just dunked on him. “His what?! No no no, don’t you walk away--”

G. groans and hides his face in his hands, “ Ay, bendito, that’s-- that’s super personal!”

“Then why did you think that’s what I was talking about!”

“Because what else would he tell you to tell another version of yourself that would probably already know?! Dude, seriously , you need to calm down--”

“Calm down?! Calm down?! He’s my--”

G. tugs on a braid as he takes a step back for some reason, “I know he’s your best friend, and we liked Barbara first, but he doesn’t even like her anymore! It’s probably the same with your Ganke!”

Huh?

“I… don’t… I don’t like Barbara,” Miles says after a few moments of tense silence.

“What--”

“I don’t even know who that is, man,” he elaborates.

“Then why’re you so heated?”

This is your chance! Tell him the truth, Miles!

“I just…”

He can’t do this.

“I was upset that he wouldn’t tell me something like that. I’m his best friend!” He settles on. The words make his entire body feel cold, and the rocks in his stomach grow heavier with guilt. He isn’t the best liar, but a shamefully large part of him hopes G. buys this one.

“Well, if it’s the same in your world, maybe he just wasn’t sure. And just because you’re friends doesn’t mean he has to tell you everything, you sound overbearing.”

“I didn’t say he had to tell me everything,” Miles bites out.

“Yeah, whatever. What were you gonna tell me?”

Miles shrugs him off, “Don’t worry about it. I’ll tell you some other time.”

G. gives him another flat look and crosses his arms. “Aight, I’m leaving. Waste of my time…”

“Tell Mom and Uncle Aaron I said hi.”

G. doesn’t answer, and leaves Miles alone on the roof.

Ugh. Way to go, genius.

____

How is it only two in the afternoon?

“Well, thousands of years ago, some ape invented keeping track of time, so now we’re here,” the caretaker responds humourlessly.

Miles went back home, deciding to spend the rest of the day helping out in his own world. He’s in a homeless shelter, keeping the lights on with his own electricity until the backup generators are fixed. “Don’t quit your dayjob, ma’am,” he responds dryly, startling a laugh out of the lady. “How’d those generators break, anyway? I never asked about that.”

A somewhat elderly man sitting nearby responds, “Rats.”

A woman texting on her phone nearby scoffs, “Dad, it wasn’t rats. You were hearing things, again.”

“I’m not the crazy one, I know what I heard.”

“I’m not crazy, I told you to stop calling me that!”

The caretaker brings the man a sandwich and bowl of banana slices, shooting Mlies a look as if he started the argument. “The official story is that it’s an old generator, it was just a matter of time before it went kaput,” she tells him.

“And the unofficial story?” He presses, crossing his arms and raising a brow.

“Some assholes took a whack at it,” she whispers to him.

“Why cover that up?” He whispers back, eyes widening.

“So that some people here don’t lose it. A lot of them have no where else to go after this, and we don’t want them to get scared and think we’re being targeted,” she explains, glancing at the two still arguing, “we don’t want to take this away from them because of this one-off thing.”

“What if it’s not a one-off attack?” Miles can’t help but ask, frowning. “Even if it is, you should still let them know the truth.”

“Wow, your mask is really expressive. You look devastated,” the caretaker comments, not answering his question.

“Thank you, I helped design it,” he replies instead, making a mental note to swing over this shelter more often. Something tells him now isn’t the time to debate or argue with her.

Another woman, probably around his mom’s age, shuffles into the room with a tall pile of clothes in a basket. “Hey, the washer and dryer working?”

“Yeah, thanks to Spidey here,” the caretaker says, waving her hand in his general area.

“Thanks Spidey,” she says, “I’m Jeremy.”

Miles blinks, “No problem, Jeremy,” he tells him. Hopefully his embarrassment doesn’t show through the mask either.

Jeremy walks past everyone to another room, presumably the laundry room.

The old man scoffs loudly, “You’re still letting her work here?”

The way he says it makes Miles tense his shoulders and jaw.

“He,” the caretaker corrects sharply, “is a great volunteer, and is washing your clothes for you without complaining.”

The old man grumbles, goes to look at his daughter, and gives up the argument when he sees her glaring angrily at him. “Whatever. Too old to be dealing with this,” he mutters as he walks out of the room.

“I’m sorry about him,” the daughter says quietly and stiltedly to Miles and the caretaker, face quickly turning pink as she follows him.

The caretaker doesn’t respond to that, only dragging her hand down her face and rolling her eyes. “Poor kid. He’s gotta deal with those types that don’t even like him. I don’t know how he keeps coming back.”

“Well, my mom has to treat some real jerks at work, and she still goes back,” Miles tells her, “I think it makes Jeremy a pretty great guy. Putting up with all that so people can have clean clothes.”

The caretaker looks at him and smiles warmly. “You’re a good kid, Spidey. Don’t let anything change that.”

“I’m--” Miles coughs, and deepens his voice slightly, “I’m a grown man.”

The caretaker laughs at him, shaking her head.

____

Miles has been helping around the city all day after that, not stopping once for a break for himself.

It started storming at one point, rain seeping into his suit and chilling him to the point of numbness, resulting in a peaceful trance as he swung around, offering a hand wherever he could.

Sent down to the subway, Miles helps a group of teens find their art wall. Two boys and three girls were just wandering down here, clearly lost, and with their descriptions, he was able to figure out exactly what mural they were looking for. He hopes they don’t realize another mural-- his own, with the other spider-people and his uncle-- is nearby; he doesn’t want it to end up getting attention if the kids decide to take a picture or something, and he couldn’t really explain why he’d stop them either. “The guy who painted this is my friend,” doesn’t sound convincing, and even if it did, what if he ran into these kids as Miles down here? That would be a whole new thing to deal with and lie about!

“Hey, are you actually allergic to cinnamon?” One of the teens ask him, breaking him out of his thoughts as he leads them down the tracks. “Or am I reaching?”

“Why would I be allergic to cinnamon? Where did you hear that?” He questions her, dropping down now that they were getting close. He looks at the group of teens, noticing most of them were slightly taller than him. Which was only slightly annoying.

“Well,” one of the boys begins, “we binging your fail compilations--” Oh come on , Miles thinks-- “and you ran into a wall when running from that candy cane villain. Remember that?”

“Uh-huh,” Miles nods, crossing his arms. It was a few days after Christmas when he first became Spider-Man, and a major embarrassment even if he did end up winning.

“You said you were allergic to peppermint when a reporter asked why you ran, so we searched it up and spiders hate cinnamon too.”

Damn, he did say that, didn’t he? It was to save a bit of face, but the smell honestly did make him want to gag and made him so irritated that he had to do more running away than fighting. Sue him, he wasn’t about to throw up as Spider-Man. Guess he has to roll with the lie now.

“I like cinnamon most of the time,” Miles finally answers, “only really how my mom uses it.”

“Oh!” One of the girls pipes up, “Have you ever done the cinnamon challenge? You totally should!”

Miles lets out a sharp laugh, “And what, embarrass myself on the internet again? Willingly?”

“You already do that,” one of the boys says dryly.

“Ouch, you should be a little nicer! I am the one leading you through here,” he jokes.

“Sorry,” the boy drawls, not sounding sorry in the slightest.

They are quickly coming up to the mural, so Miles takes his leave. “Will you guys need help getting out of here?” He asks them, placing his hands on his hips. “I can hang around, and you can just call for me when you’re done.”

“Nope, her uncle can come pick us up when we’re done adding the finishing touches to this,” one of the boys responds, pointing to a girl that’s pulling out her phone.

The mention of the girl’s uncle sends a pang straight through his heart, but he just nods his head, taking in the mural once more.

He’s passed it maybe twice before, and It was a really beautiful work of art, messy in a way that screams authenticity and just pure fun, not following any sort of rules or guides. Just a collage made and continuously added on to by complete strangers. There was a group of smiling stick figures all circling the planet, and a realistic heart painting above in the colors of the gay pride flag. There were several more hearts painted haphazardly around, all in different styles, some of them were national and disability flags too, each surrounded by flowers and more smiling stick figures, a few in wheelchairs. There were even some printed out articles glued or taped around, mostly about accomplishments great and small for the communities painted. There was a cardboard sign nearby that said, “Make Your Mark!” with an arrow pointed to the mural, inviting anyone who wants to add to it.

It was probably one of his favorites, if he was being honest.

Miles would have to come back later anyway, just to see what these kids added to the mural.

____

He sighs and opens his bedroom door. “I got the oranges,” he calls out, peeling off his mask and tossing it behind him.

“Miles, go change, no Spider-Man at the table. You’re soaked, what did we tell you--” His dad tells him as he takes the bag from him, tossing a large towel at his face.

“But Spider-Man did really good today, can’t he get a few scraps?” He jokes.

“You know what I meant,” his dad mumbles, “go change. Your mother’s trying a new recipe, and I’m not getting my tastebuds burnt off alone.”

Miles’s eyes widen, “Are you sure Spider-Man shouldn’t get involved?”

“I can hear you two!” His mom laughs from her experimenting in the kitchen.

Once he’s in his room, he takes a few minutes to relax. He removes his suit, dries off, and puts on a plain tee shirt and some shorts, wincing when the shirt snags on his earrings. After giving himself a once-over to make sure there aren’t any bruises, cuts, trackers, or old gum he missed, he decides to text his friends.

|Miles Morales 1610-B: Hey hows it going

|Gwen Stacy 65-B: bsuy w fight

|Miles Morales 1610-B: lmk if you need help

Okay, well Gwen’s occupied. Pavitr’s… probably still asleep, since it’s the weekend… Hobie prefers calling, and Miles really doesn’t want to do that right now… hmm.

|Miles Morales 1610-B: Hey margo how have you been?

|Margo Kess 22191-B: hi it’s been going i guess! Wbu

|Miles Morales 1610-B: Nothing much just saving the day and hating school

|Margo Kess 22191-B: felt that lol

|Margo Kess 22191-B: im actually about to help gwen with this weird villain

|Margo Kess 22191-B: its a surprise tho so dont tell her

“Oh,” Miles quietly says aloud, sitting down on his chair.

|Miles Morales 1610-B: Thats super nice of you!!

|Margo Kess 22191-B: yeah i want to be close again like we used to be

Huh. That’s interesting. Gwen never mentioned that she used to be close with Margo, and vice versa. Miles fights down a rush of… something close to jealousy, but not quite that. He knows Gwen made a few friends while she was in the Society, but she didn’t really like to talk about her time there in general. And he never really asked anyway, with a wound that fresh. Shoot, should he have asked at any point regardless? He doesn’t want to come off like he doesn’t care.

You’re overthinking again.

|Miles Morales 1610-B: Good luck

Does that look sarcastic? Or bitter?

|Margo Kess 22191-B: thanks dude :)

“Thank god,” Miles lets out a sharp breath, not realizing he was even holding it. He puts his watch in his nightstand and lays back on the bed, pulling out his phone, about to text Ganke--

Nevermind! That would mean he’d have to tell him he didn’t tell G. about their relationship. If he simply… forgot to text Ganke, perhaps…

No.

He needs to tell somebody . Tonight .

“Miles, come help cook!” his mom shouted from the kitchen.

____

“You okay?”

Miles blinks, looking down at the ball of meat he’s been rolling for the past five minutes. “Yeah, I’m fine,” he answers. “Just a bit tired after saving the day, you know how it is.”

“Mm,” his dad hums, not wanting to talk about anything Spider-Man related, Miles guesses. “Just checking. You’re really tense.”

Miles unclenches his jaw and lets his shoulders drop to a more natural position. “I’m not.”

“Miles, you can talk to us. Me and your mother have seen a lot--”

They have? Miles feels lightheaded, and the rocks forming in his stomach are making him tense up again to not fall over.

“--whatever happened out there tonight, you can tell us. We know there’s a lot of stuff out there, stuff no kid should have to handle, and… we just want you to be honest...”

Miles could cry right now. Oh my god. They didn’t know, his dad was just talking about being traumatized on the job from getting horrible injuries or whatever. He swears he heard angels singing for a second there.

“I know, Dad,” Miles says, slightly impressed at how steady his voice sounded. He can’t see his dad, but Miles swears he can sense the unease and disappointment in the air around him.

Miles understands. The part of him that isn't cheering is screaming that he’s ruined his chance to be honest again, for his own selfish reasons. But the other part, the one that fiercely shields him as he hides away in that closet, simply leaves a cold relief as it washed over him.

“Miles, are those piercings infected? They look dark,” his mom points out as she comes back into the kitchen to finish cooking.

The lobes themselves are warm to the touch, now that he actually pays attention. “They do?”

“Yes, are you pulling on them? I told you not to go through any sewers, any dumps, and to clean them everyday!” she scolds, “They’re going to itch like crazy and drive you mad now.”

“It’ll be fine, ma,” Miles chuckles, realizing he actually has been slacking in cleaning them, “I can handle some itching.”

“Oh, Jeff, our son’s laughing about that infection,” his mom places a hand on her cheek, “We’ll have to call the priest.”

“It’s not an infection, mami.”

“Yep, I see the life leaving him right now,” his traitorous dad joins in.

“Guys, c’mon,” Miles laughs, “I’ll clean them after dinner.”

“Our last meal together,” his dad mumbles, shaking his head and wiping away imaginary tears.

____

Miles waited until his parents were asleep to sneak out onto the roof of their apartment building, creeping into the greenhouse.

He still needs to tell somebody, even more so now that he has an entirely new person to potentially worry about. Miles doesn’t know who this Barbara girl is, but if she exists here, that means Ganke could have a crush on her, and the very thought of that is making Miles’s brain go haywire. It doesn’t even make total sense in his brain; instead of neurons, there are just jumbled wires and a cacophony of incoherent panicked shouting.

He sits down on the floor of the greenhouse, hunching over and pulling at his hair.

Be smart about this , Miles thinks to himself. Don’t freak out, don’t freak out… He needs-- there’s gotta be a list. What was it Peter’s friend said? Start a journal, or something. He should list the problems, make a plan of action. That’s the smart thing to do.

#my writing #transfem miles #miles morales #spider man #spiderman #atsv fanfiction #atsv #spiderverse #fanfic #trans miles morales #m&m posts #ganke lee #milesganke #well the ship isn't the focus but yknow. wait why did i say that? the ship is VERY much a focus of the fic. who said that first shit #anyway... don't worry about all this shit rn im setting stuff up #but keep it in the very back of your mind #this chapter was a lot of filler tbh. as filler as i can make a chapter. which is not very much #also tumblr is formatting this weird as hell wtf???

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prodigal-explorer · 1 year ago

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so as someone who is only on chapter one of omori and is obsessed with it here are my thoughts as a new member of the fandom

bear in mind that i haven’t finished the game. i only just got to that one creepy forest place? like the one after the spiders? please don’t spoil!!

but spoilers for everything before that below

1) I HATE BASIL. he’s such a stupid little punk. “uwu im so smol and helpless and i always get bullied and i’m so sweet and innocent” I JUST KNOW THAT FUCKER IS HIDING SOMETHING. everytime i end back in that stupid white room it’s because HES DOING SOME SUSSY SHIT. i also just hate him and everything about him and i know for a damn fact that he’s hiding something horrible behind that sweet little smile and he thinks he’s tricking me but he’s NOT I KNOW HIS GAME.

anyway.

2) i literally cannot decide on a favorite character. i have a least favorite, that’s pretty obvious, but when it comes to a favorite im torn. i LOVE omori, aubrey, kel, and hero all the same! i love mari too but i’m a little salty against her because all her hints for the quests are severely unhelpful 😭 but i still love her tho. i just love the main four so so much and i physically cant choose who i like better. poor little aubrey seems so scared and alone when she has the pink hair and she’s so kind in the little space world thing. hero is a sweetheart and i can’t wait to meet him in the colorful world where i’m moving or whatever. and kel is literally so me 😂 it’s not even funny he just does whatever the fuck he wants and that deserves some respect on his name. and omori is a kickass main character who has a cool thing going for him. but these four characters are sooo well crafted and i love how they work together! it’s a great dynamic balance!

3) i’m either a really bad gamer or the game is super long. i finished the prologue in like seven hours. it took SO LONG. i’m not used to indie games taking that long to play considering that i got through all of undertale in like 10-12 hours my first time. it’s awesome! i love finding all the secrets and talking to all the npcs but DAMNNN.

4) this game has so. much. detail. it’s insane. like the sheer amount of mini games and tiny pockets of lore. it’s like higher than undertale level and i don’t mean to keep going back to undertale but i see a lot of similarities in the game style. i also totally got sucked into playing like 30 rounds of blackjack on omoris computer. it was cool af.

5) the fighting mechanics are super hard. maybe i just suck at strategy but i am so bad at the fights that i just run away whenever i have the opportunity 😭 it’s a problem. i also have no clue how the happy sad angry shit works, i just make omori sad so stab has an attack boost and make aubrey angry so headbutt has an attack boost but other than that i don’t really use it at all and i don’t understand it. maybe that’s why it took me literally 10 tries to get past space ex boyfriend? it’s really fun i just think it’s supposed to be easier than it is and i just missed a memo on strategy.

6) i really love the message so far. the way that mental health is portrayed as something that’s a never ending journey. omori doesn’t just breathe and then everything’s okay, the game highlights realistic coping strategies and makes things like depression, anxiety, and phobias to understandable for any audience through a very creative medium: an indie video game. it’s genius. and i just love how it’s been approached so far, it’s very inspiring!

7) i’m terrified that this fandom is gonna make me mad, i swear to god if i just walk in and see a bunch of basil stan’s i’m turning and walking back out 💀 i mean okay maybe i’ll like basil better later but chances for that seem very low right now. my sister told me that apparently he went through some trauma thing? womp womp don’t care he’s an annoying mf who keeps taking me back to that boring white room where i stab myself, he’s a party pooper and i want a tornado to blow his dumb little flower house down.

#omori #omori game #omori sunny #omori basil #omori mari #omori hero #omori kel #omori aubrey #omori first time #omori character #omori fandom #omori basil hate

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of-a-chaotic-mind · 1 year ago

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9-1-1 Headcanons/Crack

A/N: I found this hiding in my drafts and giggled to myself way too much to not post it lmao.

- Athena kills the spiders. Bobby nopes the fuck away from them as soon as he sees them.

- The team prefers Buck stay away from large amounts of caffeine. Now it's bc they're terrified his heart will give out but before the lightning it was bc the adorable little shit would be bouncing off the walls after one RedBull. (Oh how I miss the days when caffeine gave me that kind of boost)

- Cat People: Buck, Hen, and Bobby

- Dog People: Eddie, Athena, Maddie

- Maddie & Buck take pinky promises VERY seriously. To them they're as serious as signing a legally binding contract or even selling your soul.

- Buck has a tiny adorable sneeze and it's never just one, always a minimum of three. Eddie & Bobby both scream sneeze but usually only once.

- God forbid Buck gets the hiccups. Bc not only do they last forever but he acts like they're gonna kill him.

- The one time the team managed to have a horror movie night the entire living room was covered in popcorn by the end of it bc Buck & Eddie hate horror movies and every time they got jump scared they flung their popcorn. And holy shit Buck screams like a girl. One of the scares made him scream so loud that he scared Eddie who was sitting right beside him who then launched his popcorn over his head and everyone behind them got showered in popcorn before the bowl landed on Bobby's head upside down like a hat.

- Nobody will even mention a haunted house because one Halloween, Hen snuck up behind Buck and whispered boo. The poor goof started flinging his arms around and accidentally smacked the shit out of Hen.

- Saw a meme with Buck thats said something about whats the word for when your hands are bisexual. Here's my take. Buck was trying to explain that he is ambidextrous one day but couldn't remember the word. "Damn it, what the hell is the word for when you can- for when- bisexual hands?!" Hen laughed so hard she nearly pissed herself before answering him "Ambidextrous, Buck."

- Saw someone headcanon that Hen and Buck bought Eddie a fake plant and convinced him was real as a prank. I think pranks are a common occurrence around the 118 but that prank specifically is the longest running and is stil going despite the fact that Buck nearly bursts into a fit of giggles every time he sees Eddie water the damn thing. Eddie actually knows its fake but his friends get a kick out of it so he plays along.

- The word's hippopotamus and Worcestershire are running jokes/challenges for the 118 team. For hippopotamus the challenge is to fit as many ps in there as possible. For Worcestershire it's just seeing who can pronounce it the most incorrect way.

- Buck loves to research shit right? He also enjoys reading. However, just because he can read big words doesn't mean he pronounces them correctly. The team is often lovingly correcting him on his pronunciation. Or sometimes he'll straight up spit out a word and hope they can play auto correct for him and figure it out.

- Hen can smell a budding romance from a mile away. She's also the queen of bets. So far, she holds the record for most bets won amongst the 118.

- Somehow various slang has made its way into 118's vocabulary. No one will ever forget the night Buck made dinner and Bobby took a bite before proceeding to claim it was "bussin'". Or the way Eddie always tells people "don't be so salty."

- The best people at sensing when Buck is about to be Buck are Maddie, Bobby, and Athena.

- Occasionally, someone will host a grill out and yep you guessed it, Bobby and Chimney man the grill (mostly Bobby) in full dad attire. When asked why, their response had the same vibes as "for shits and giggles".

- Buck has taken a liking to the phrase "Fuck it we ball," which terrifies everyone.

- That one tiktok audio but make it Eddie & Buck: Eddie: *lots of angry spanish* Buck: Someone tell me what he's saying! Wtf is he saying?! Dude, I don't speak Taco Bell! Buck can somewhat keep up with and understand it when Eddie is speaking slowly due to his time in Peru but damnit his brain doesn't process fast enough to translate the angry Spanish.

- Everyone has a habit of leaving their LAFD hoodies laying around and Buck has a habit of picking them up and pulling them on when he's cold without paying attention to what name is on the back. He once wandered up to dinner with Diaz written across his back. No one batted an eye except Eddie who pointed it out. Buck's only response was, "I knew this didn't smell right." Buck has also been caught wearing Bobby's hoodie a few times.

- Wait a damn minute. Let's talk scents. Buck wears a cologne that smells like cinnamon and fire. Eddie has a sandalwood or pine vibe. Chimney wears a citrusy scent. Bobby has an herby scent like maybe rosemary or just mint. Hen has a warm and cozy scent vibe to me so maybe vanilla and leather.

Masterlist

#911 headcanons #911 #911 headcanon

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salora-rainriver · 1 year ago

Text

The Sympathy Problem, or "Why I'm Too Much of a Monsterfucker to Get Into Horror"

I don't know what the fuck this is, but I'm writing an essay about a problem that, as far as I know, only applies to me (but i might be totally wrong, who knows).

I think the title speaks for itself, but lemme just elaborate on what the fuck happens inside my brain, and how that fundamentally affects the way I handle horror media, to the point where I cannot truly appreciate it as horror on the same level as everyone else.

now lemme post a cute bat here so that there'll be an appropriate image to represent the whole essay when its link is shared on stuff like Discord:

trust me this was important. Okay, let's keep going.

Part 1: Why I'm a Monsterfucker

Let's start at age 4. I'm a dinosaur kid, like roughly 1/3rd of all autistic bitches. I'm a dinosaur kid to the point of owning multiple Land Before Time movies, and tie-in games, and I think I even had like two plushies at one point.

you know it's serious when this is your childhood.

I also had miscellaneous dinosaur plushies, and dinosaur toys, and a dinosaur book I frequently read front-to-back, and you get the idea.

dinosaur love evolves into dragon love, evolves into "funky monster creatures and animals of all kinds" love. I become a freakish savant of the wonderful world of the animal kingdom really quickly, to the point where my child-brain career prospects include "vet" as a pretty high finalist.

And then I find Starcraft, a game in a genre I otherwise wouldn't have given a shit about... but guess what? it has bug dinos.

it's all over for me.

But like, why? why do I like dinosaur so much?

... because I am dinosaur.

Look. LOOK. I can't give a good comprehensive list on the connections between my particular strand of autism and the state of Being A Dinosaur, because by this point, me being autistic and me being a dinosaur are so completely intertwined that it's often a chicken-egg situation. But the point is,

I make weird noises instead of using my words. I toe-walk. I don't like shoes. Sometimes I like to not wear clothes at all, even. I like to hide in small crevices when spooked. When I'm in a meltdown, I scare people.

Me dinosaur. Or at least, me some type of feral.

So is it any fucken surprise that when I go into an RPG, I latch onto the animal shapeshifter, the furry species, or the person who fights unarmed and/or uses a claw weapon?

Is it any fucking surprise that I am the opposite of spooked by snakes and spiders and other such creepy crawlies?

is it any fucking surprise that I have a fursona?????

is it any fucking surprise that I picked Pokemon Scarlet without the slightest HINT of remorse?!

Part 2: Wait, That's not the Intended Response

now let's talk about horror. Let's talk about the elements that make horror into horror: the fear part.

So what scares people? Well... people scare us. A serial killer, a mad scientist, a cult leader, a corrupt government entity, maybe? or maybe even society itself, its darker side full of atrocities and danger and problems where there's no easy solution and things can often seem hopeless?

... lmao who are we kidding that's not the vast majority of what scares people in horror. IT'S MONSTERS! Monsters scare people!

From Xenomorphs to Jean Jacket to The Babadook, it's monsters! Shit that ain't human and never could be human, and maybe it's pretending to be human, maybe it used to be human, but now it ain't, and it's gonna getcha!

And it just.

I'm a monsterfucker.

I'm not scared of ghosts. Sure he's fucked up and wailing in endless pain and lashing out at everything, but that just makes me feel sad. Like, poor ghost dude. We should help him.

I'm not scared of vampires or werewolves. They're people like anyone else, and sure, there's an inherent danger from being around them, but there's also an inherent danger from being close to an alligator, and I'm sure as fuck not scared of an alligator chilling on the side of the road. Cautious, maybe, but not scared.

I'm not scared of zombies. I mean, if they were real, I'd be a bit spooked, cause I have no combat expertise and would definitely be Fucked. But the same would apply if my hometown became a war zone. And... a war movie won't scare me. So a zombie movie wouldn't, either.

I'm not scared of xenomorphs. I mean I don't want to die, but that just means I should be entering alien environments with all proper safety procedures. TBH I'm more pissed at Weyland-Yutani than anything else.

I'm not scared of the Babadook. I'm worried for the well-being of the family as they try to come to terms with grief, and the monstrous shape that grief has taken. But it seems like they're coping in the end, so that's good.

I'm not scared of Jean Jacket - okay no. I'll be honest. It makes me uncomfortable. I will not be going into detail on the difference between this discomfort and actual fear. That is not a Salora Lore I want to disclose here. If you Know, you Know.

Part 3: Horror ceases to be a genre for me

So the monsters in horror movies don't scare me. And yet... I've watched some horror movies. And I've liked them. From this one list I've been using as quick reference to remind myself of What Horror Movies Exist out there, I've watched a few of these, or am at least familiar with them. You know, I've seen some classic horrors like "The Shining" because I went to film class in high school, and I've watched some installments of classic franchises like "Scream", or oddball picks like "Warm Bodies" and "The Relic", because I was having watch parties with friends.

Even beyond film, I read some Lovecraft once, and I've played plenty of spookier-themed videogames, like... well, like Silent Hill 2. Didn't finish that one. Bcs I'm bad at puzzles. But I loved the atmosphere.

And even when I'm not directly experiencing the horror media, I often look it up, read the synopsis, and watch video essays about it.

I know way too much about Hereditary, Midsommar, Get Out, the Slasher Genre in general, Creepypasta, Resident Evil, and mascot horror, for someone who's supposedly not able to properly engage with horror as a medium.

And I like some of that shit! But uh...

... not. as horror.

I just. Don't engage with them as horror films. I engage with them as whatever other genre you could slot them into. Hereditary is a tragedy. Get Out is political allegory. The Babadook is psychological allegory. Ghost stories are dark fantasy. Alien is sci fi. Slasher films go back and forth between mystery, action, and dark comedy. Warm Bodies is a rom-com. (like. that's not even a weird hot take. I don't know why this Rotten Tomatoes editorial decided it was horror, but I'm not gonna dispute their assertion, Bcs like. this entire essay is about why I'm not a good judge on that sort of thing) Silent Hill is a puzzle-adventure game with light action. Five Nights at Freddys is a time-management simulation game that would stress me the fuck out if I ever played it. Amnesia: the Dark Descent is a stealth game.

You get the idea.

So I'm just... in this really weird position. I'm a huge fan of spooky monsters, strange happenings, stories that engage seriously with the anxieties of mankind through allegory,

but I can't. truly enter the horror genre community as an insider.

Cause I ain't scared.

And honestly, it gets even worse when I start to imagine myself maybe, idk, *writing* a horror story of my own. Because... since I don't get scared by them, how am I supposed to know what scares others? Apologies to my fellow disabled folk for this clumsy analogy, but... it feels like trying to paint while visually impaired. I mean... you can do it. You can do it super well if you push yourself. but it's a strong disadvantage, and it might result in an artwork that could baffle the seeing people in your audience.

And maybe there could be merit in that. In writing my attempt at a horror story from the perspective of someone who doesn't find any of it scary. Maybe it's be intriguing, even surreal or dreamlike or alien to the audience who doesn't engage with this subject matter in the same way I do.

Or maybe it'd just end up similar to that one phase of the creepypasta fad where folks were going "wooo! hyperrealistic blood! isn't it spoopy n fuked up????" and it'll be garbage idfk

Bonus Round: ...Okay I Might've Lied a Bit

There is one movie that for me, truly could be considered "horror".

It genuinely terrified me as I watched it. It shook me to my core and opened my eyes to how other people feel when they see some shadowy monster figure with too many teeth reach out and eviscerate a poor bitch. I fucking get it now, to some extent. I don't know *how* the spiky boy elicits that response in you, but now I understand how it feels.

Because I watched FUCKING M3GAN

[SPOILER WARNING: I'm not saying the exact plot beats of the movie but I AM going into detail about its themes and the character development of the protagonist. It's massive spoilers but they're all vague spoilers.]

Me and my friends didn't pick this movie thinking we'd get spooked. this is the movie where the doll does some sort of modern dance routine while carrying a katana. It's goofy shit! We figured this was goofy ass modern trash and we were gonna laugh.

MOTHERFUCKERS I WASN'T LAUGHING????

Is the premise unrealistic and goofy? yeah. are the characters exaggerated and cartoonish? yes. are there like, numerous jokes throughout this film, that are portrayed as jokes? yes. was the dancing robot doll chase sequence goofy as shit? yes*

*ok but the context of That Scene made my brain gloss right the fuck over how goofy it was bcs I was too fucked up over everything else that already happened!

So like. What? How? How is goofy robot doll horrifying? Salora, you know how many stories about rogue AIs and killer robots there are? Why doesn't skynet scare you?

It's not about the doll. It's about the humans who created her.

This film is as subtle as a fucking anvil when it comes to it's social commentary. Like, "opening sequence is a kids commercial for Deranged Knockoff Furby" and "a therapist character explains attachment theory for a whole scene" levels of unsubtle. and honestly that makes the horror fucking worse. in this bizarre cartoonish parody of society, we're seeing a laid-bare and raw allegory for the real harm we are inadvertently delivering upon real fucking people. Weirdly enough, the exaggeration just makes it feel more real.

and what's "It"? Not the uncanny valley of a too-perfect silicon face, the gruesome deaths, the murderous AI,

No, "it" is the commodification of childhood, the degradation of familial ties and human connection through overwork, the way we try to patch these broken ties with product, the outsourcing of parenting to toys and machines, the disastrous consequences of allowing an orphan to vanish into wish fulfillment fantasy instead of being given space to work through her grief,

the exploitation of her grief in order to market the very thing that's spiraling her further into an unhealthy dependency, to do the exact same thing to children worldwide, all because of profit.

Look. Monsters, ghosts, demons, serial killers, zombies, predatory animals, rogue AI, they're not scary to me, because I know them. and if I don't know them, I want to know them. The solution to the threats things like that pose are simple. Keep your distance from the crocodile. Punch the shark's sensitive nose to make it back off. Invest in security measures so your house doesn't get broken into. Don't anger the ghost. Exorcise the demon. Shoot the zombie's head.

How do you, an overworked engineer for a toy company, find the time to connect with your orphaned niece on a human level?

How do you take away said niece's beloved doll when you slowly come to realize that her attachment to it has become unhealthy?

What the fuck are you supposed to even do when you realize that you might have created a murderous monster and marketed it to hundreds of kids, and your overzealous boss is in your ear pressuring you to get it ready for launch?

WHAT A FUCKING NIGHTMARE.

Conclusion: But fr am I like the Only One

so uh. yeah.

My fear response is mucked around by an unusually high level of sympathy for the monsters that tend to populate horror media. I'm Too Kinky To be Tortured, and it puts me in an awkward relationship with the horror genre, where the only things that can well and truly terrify me are unhealthy relationships and capitalism, and even then, only if those topics are presented in just the right way to make me feel like this shit is Real.

And like you know how there's a whole language of like, scares and signifiers and shit that's been well-researched, all these tiny tips and tricks to exploit primal fears in humans? (I dont know if language is the right word but im just gonna call it that until further notice)

well, a lot of that Language of Horror doesn't quite work on me, because it's all related to monsters and physical threats, and I love the monsters too much,

and I imagine there is a whole different Language out there of the shit that can be exploited to scare me,

but fuck if i know what it is. I only got a single movie as my frame of reference. How the fuck would you even find a movie that handles social anxiety like that?

Like idk, do y'all think Carrie would spook me? Carrie's about societal ills, right?

#horror #horror movies #the following tag will spoil the plot twist of the essay oops #m3gan

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