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zepskies · 3 days ago

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@lamentationsofalonelypotato

LOLL girl I totally get it, but I don't think you have to be scared on this one. It's a nice little slow burn fic with cozy winter vibes. 😘 And like you, I LOVE soulmate/true mate/fates mate AUs too. It's definitely a mix of forced proximity and grumpy/sunshine, which you know I can't stop writing that dynamic for some reason. 😂😂

But here we go!! Diving into the rest of your lovely comments...

The physical description of Dean is SO good. The use of "stern" and "stubborn" as descriptors fits well for Dean.

Hahaaa thank you, lovely!! Stern brows and a stubborn chin felt inherently Dean to me.

Oh suuuurrrreeee keep telling yourself that Dean.

Lmfao right? Denial of the purest form. 🙄

So what you're saying is... she's trapped in a cabin, she's got a broken ankle, in the middle of a snowstorm with no way out and no communications, with a ruggedly hot mountain man with gorgeous green eyes, a gruff exterior, and a mysterious past... Sign👏🏻 Me👏🏻 Up

That is EXACTLY what I'm saying. 😏

(Also that How to Train Your Dragon gif made me smile -- I love that movie!!)

So ready for Dean to just obliterate all her other experiences with total jerks.

Oh he already is! You def know where I'm going with this. 😏

I live for the after a nightmare comfort trope (if it is a trope? 🧐) and I am SO happy you put this in. Oh my goodness it was so sweet of him to come check on her, and for you to give us a little bit of insight inside of Dean's POV during those moments where she was terrified. This part stuck out to me, because the man is already hook, line, and sinker. He literally tried to go to a cabin in the middle of the woods to get away from it all, but fate really has an odd way of catching up to you. Can't exactly run from it Dean.

Aww me too!! I love hurt/comfort moments almost as much as pure fluff moments. Dean really is fighting for his life emotionally in this loll. His instincts as an alpha (and her mate) are warring with his brain, and it was really fun to write that aspect of Dean's angst post-season 15.

OOooooooOOOooooo shots fired. SHOTS FIRED... But did she stutter??

She, in fact, did NOT stutter.

I'm losing it over the fact that Sam named his son DEAN Jr. 😂🥰 And also the bit about "running full speed into glass doors" is making me cackle lol.

Ahaha idk if that was actually canon or if that's something we in the fandom started writing and I just rolled with it. 😂 I'm pretty sure it's canon that Sam named his son after his uncle? But oh yeah, the running full speed into glass doors was taken straight out of my childhood. 🤣🤣

This line is so Dean, it's PERFECT, and I really love that it was what made the reader try to snort her diet Pepsi.

LOL thank you!! I think I grabbed part of it from season 12 where they go to Hollywood/L.A., but I thought it was quintessential Dean. 🤣

And I just want to say thank you for giving Dean the kinda "homemaker" role in this fic. The fact that he's making food for the reader (I'm obsessed with men who can cook) and taking care of her is just:

Omg yeesss, I love malewife Dean lmao. He's just such a caretaker at heart, and an awesome cook! I can so picture him making big breakfasts for his kids on weekends and packing their lunches for school. 🥹

Oh no Dean, you're not like the Cabin in that way. The cabin is made of strong aged wood that keeps out the chill and is full of warmth! The cabin withstands the elements and doesn't fall no matter how hard the howling wind blows! Dang it, I have way too many emotions over that line. Alex, why did you have to do this to me 😭 It's SO GOOD!!

Dean's self-deprecating angst is like a necessary evil for his character. I'm so glad the cabin metaphor resonated with you the way I intended, even if it breaks my heart too!! 😭😭💙💙

And I'm not sure if you were trying to say that the reader was also a little skeptical about the true mates and if it is a real thing that happens, but I can't wait for part 2 to see if they actually admit it to each other or if they try to keep it a secret as long as they can! Also the song choice perfectly fits the vibes in this fic 👌🏻

Oh yeah, there's some of that too! She's more open to it now than Dean, but I thought we needed some realism where she's also skeptical true mates are even real -- until she met Dean. How strongly they both are reacting to each other physically, but not wanting to admit it yet, and the reader just wanting to know more about Dean before she begins to trust him, all of that is going to continue playing out in Part 2. 💓💓

Oh thank you on the song choice!! Of course Bob Seger has featured on the show in a big way with "Night Moves," so I thought "Against the Wind" felt very Dean, especially in a post-S15 AU.

My lovely friend, this was so good and I can't wait for part 2!!!

Thank you sooooo very much, my friend!! 🥹🥹 Part 2 is dropping later today!! 🥳💕💕

Against the Wind - Part 1

Pairing: Alpha!Dean Winchester x F. Omega!Reader

Summary: You wake up in a strange alpha’s cabin in the middle of a snowstorm, all with a busted ankle. He holds shadows in his eyes, even though his hands are gentle. There are iron shutters around his heart, even though he saved you. You might just save him in return.

AN: This is a canon ending-divergent AU, but still an Omegaverse story within the canon world. It also fulfills a bingo square for @jacklesversebingo!

Jacklesverse Bingo24 Prompt: True Mates

Song Inspo: “Against the Wind” by Bob Seger

Word Count: 5.5K

Tags/Warnings: A/B/O dynamics, scenting, injuries, hints of angst, fluff and feels.

Series Masterlist || Bingo Masterlist

Part 1: In His Hands

Your body is mostly numb when he pulls you out of the snow.

You utter a sharp cry when something in your side twinges, waking up your entire body like a white-hot shiv. Your ankle begins to throb as well.

“Hold on. I’ve got you.”

You only half hear the voice, a deep, coarse rumble. His form is broad and dark and blurry, but his male scent is the only thing you register with perfect clarity.

Alpha.

A small treble of alarm runs through you. It’s an instinct you’ve had to learn, as an omega traveling alone in rural Montana. However, something else disrupts that anxiety.

It’s his scent. His scent is like the crackle and smoke of a warm hearth.

Safe. Your body is heavy and stiff and doesn’t respond to your commands, and yet, you feel a measure of calm when he maneuvers you into his arms. It’s a baser instinct, rooted deep in your chest. He begins to carry you down the slope of the mountain, and your vision blurs white…

Like the flurry of snow falling heavy on his jacket.

You wake up freezing and shivering in pain. A sensation of small sharp needles begins to travel all across your skin. Slowly, as you're able to blink, your view of the dark wood cabin clears and focuses. You realize that you’re bundled in blankets, and laying on a chaise in front of a large fireplace. Still, you’re too cold. A keening whimper escapes you as you try to burrow in.

Alpha. Your body instinctively recognizes his presence, as he’s suddenly there, hovering close above you with a divot between his brows and a frown marring his face, where thick stubble threatens to become a beard. Stern, dark brows are furrowed over his concerned eyes. His plush frown is framed by a stubborn-looking chin. Your gaze wearily travels over his handsome features, his short brown hair, the flickers of firelight that splash across the side of his face.

He places a warm, calloused hand on your forehead, and he mutters a curse. Your body trembles further with cold. You part your lips, but you can't yet force your voice to escape them.

Again, he quite literally takes the problem into his own hands. He peels away the thick blankets just to slide himself in behind you. His arms wrap around your waist, and you feel their tempered strength when they cage you in against him. You manage to turn your head and rest your cheek against his chest, covered by red plaid. Thank you...

Almost on reflex, you breathe in his scent deeply. The earthiness of it calms you, warms you from the inside. Your shivering eventually calms and turns to purring in your chest.

“What’s your name, Omega?” he asks. His voice is deep and gruff, and it threatens to make you shiver for a different reason as the timbre of it washes over you.

It’s difficult, but you manage to speak, clearing past your parched throat to give him your name. He nods, as if rolling the sound of it back and forth across his mind.

“Was somebody out there with you?” he asks.

You shake your head, even though the thought elicits a painful twinge in your heart.

“Who…” you try to speak again, even though it hurts a little. “Who are you?”

You feel him take a deep breath. He hesitates, like he’s reluctant to give it to you.

“Dean,” he says.

You roll the name around in your head, over and over. Dean, Dean, Dean…

You smile slightly. “Yeah, makes sense.”

“What?” he says. You hear the raised brow in his tone.

“You sound like a Dean,” you say, perhaps a little delirious.

Anyway, that’s when your eyes close on you again. You fall back into the warm lull of sleep, to the sound of a crackling fire, and a feeling that permeates throughout your body.

Safe.

Can’t fucking believe this, Dean thinks, as he holds you. Just when he thought his life was done throwing him curveballs.

He tips his head back against the sofa cushion with a tired exhale. It would just be his luck to find a stray omega wandering his stretch of Big Sky. Montana can be gnarly in the winter, but for the past couple of years, Dean has learned to survive here in this rental cabin for a couple of months at a time, when wandering an empty bunker gets to be too much. At least here the quiet’s peaceful, if still a little unnerving sometimes.

He glances down at you. Now that you’re warm and sleeping again, he should find something to wrap your ankle and ice it down. It’s swollen, and he wants to take an inventory of your other injuries, so he can determine how to get you back down the mountain and through the woods, back to civilization.

The sooner he gets you medical attention and back to your life, the sooner he can get back to his—even though the thought of leaving you in anyone else’s hands almost stirs a growl in his throat.

And that last part unnerves him, makes him anxious. He begins to untangle himself from you, but his movements falter when your sweet scent filters through his nose again. Cinnamon apples, with a hint of something floral.

Fuck me.

It’s almost too sweet to be true, but Dean does his best to ignore it…and what that alluring sweetness probably means.

Dean leaves you in the morning to revisit the site where you fell. He digs through the snow and manages to find your backpack, filled with your clothes, supplies, and your phone and wallet. He returns just in time.

The falling snow becomes even more intense, until it becomes a quiet roar outside. You watch the snowstorm through the impact windows in the kitchen, and you know what this means. You’re snowed in with a stranger—an alpha, no less.

You also have a bum ankle, which he wrapped for you. Doesn’t feel broken, he’d said, but it could be fractured, or at the very least sprained. You also likely have a couple of cracked ribs.

“What were you doing out there, anyway?” he asks, while pouring himself a glass of whiskey. “This ain’t exactly hiking season.”

While you drink some hot chocolate he made you with a bit of whiskey splashed in (for extra warmth), you explain.

“Well, I guess it wasn’t my best idea in hindsight,” you say with a weak chuckle. “I was trying to find my way back, and I…well, I was a bit lost.”

He raises his brows wryly, still sipping.

“And to make a great situation even better, I thought I heard a wolf howl nearby,” you say. “I know most of them would rather run from us than attack us, but you can’t be sure, you know? I had my rifle on me, so I was turning around, trying to pinpoint what direction it was in…and of course, my foot slipped on something.”

You fell down that hill. You think you even hit a tree on the way down, which would explain your ribs. Everything gets a bit swirly, cold, and dark in your memory after that.

Dean shakes his head. “Gotta say, going out there alone wasn’t a great idea either, especially now. This time of year, there’s no telling when a blizzard like this is going to come through.”

He waves haphazardly toward the storm raging outside. Your gaze falls to the mug in your hands. You don’t really want to talk about your reasons for taking that risk, but maybe giving him a little honesty will get him off your back.

“My dad and I used to hike up here every year,” you confess. “A few months ago…I lost him. So I guess this was just something I needed to do.”

You blow on your hot chocolate before you take another sip. This time when you glance up, Dean’s judgy expression has evened out into something more sympathetic. He lowers his glass.

“Well, hate to break it to you, but there’s no cell service up here,” he says.

You give a humorless huff. “Believe me, I know.”

“Which means no one can come up here and get you,” he continues, “and even when this storm breaks, I can’t carry you all the way down the mountain back to civilization. Not with the snow as deep as it’s gonna get. Now…maybe I can go down by myself and bring help back with me.”

“But another storm could snow me in,” you realize, with growing apprehension at the thought.

Dean nods. “It’s either I take that chance, leave you by yourself. Or we wait for you to heal up.”

He leaves the choice up to you with a gesture of his hand, the one still wrapped around his glass. You weigh those options with a tilt of your head. On one hand, you don't want to impose on him longer than you had to, but on the other, you really don't want to be left alone in this cabin for God knows how long while he scales the mountain by himself, for your sake.

“I think it would be better if we go down together, right? It can be dangerous, even when the storm breaks,” you reply.

Dean nods slowly, like that was what he was going to suggest too. “All right. Well, until you’ve got two working legs, you’re stuck here with me.”

“I figured as much,” you say. Your head tilts as you consider him. He has a gruff exterior, but all his actions so far have been kind, and far more than you’d expect from a stranger. And an alpha at that.

Not to say that all alpha's are assholes, but you've had far too many experiences with the stereotype: arrogant, entitled, and handsy. Can't forget handsy.

“Thank you for saving me,” you say, meeting his gaze, “and for…well, being a decent guy.”

Dean’s lips twitch. He nearly chuckles. Instead, he sits back on his side of the couch.

“Yeah, well, there’s a spare room in this place for you, one bathroom. The kitchen is stocked. I’m a half-decent cook, if I say so myself, but help yourself.”

He gets up from the couch without preamble, to go to his room, you assume. It leaves you feeling at a loss, like he’s trying to get away from you. You know you’re a guest in his space, so you try to respect the way he wants to be alone for a while. He definitely gives off loner vibes.

You look around and find a collection of vinyl records, and smaller collection of books on a shelf next to the fireplace. You find Gulliver’s Travels, Dune, The Odyssey, The Wizard of Oz—books you didn’t think a guy like Dean would be into.

You take up The Wizard of Oz, reclaim your spot on the chaise, and start reading.

That night, your dreams are plagued by the crunch of dead leaves, your father shouting at you to run, and to keep running.

The coarse roar of a bear morphs into something other. It’s a sharper, whirring sound like wind howling amidst animalistic clicking, and then bones breaking—your father’s scream cut short.

You wake with a start, your body both cold and flush at the same time.

Dean is there once again. It confuses you at first, but then it all returns to you in a rush—the where and the why you’re here, once again with the alpha standing over you in concern. He grasps your shoulder and asks if you’re all right. Your breathing is too erratic for you to answer him, your eyes too wide, your body trembling.

Had you been making noise in your sleep? You blush in embarrassment at the thought. You also feel bad for waking him, and all those things get trapped in your throat.

Seeing that you’re most definitely not fine, he sits on the edge of the bed, squeezes your arm, and reminds you.

“It’s okay. You’re safe here,” he tells you. His tone is deep and even, reassuring.

You meet his steady gaze and manage to nod, trying to catch your breath.

“I’m okay,” you say, with a shaky nod. He gives you a measuring look, both a question and a confirmation. You give it to him with a firmer nod. “Thanks, I…I’m sorry I woke you up.”

He exhales through his nose, accepting. “‘S all right. Don’t worry about it.”

You feel the loss of his touch when his hand eventually slip away from your shoulder. As soon as he came into your room, he’s gone.

Dean leaves swiftly, trying to brush off how the scent of your fear had tugged sharply at his gut even in his sleep. It not only woke him up, but compelled him to kick his blankets off and get out of bed to go to you.

You were having a nightmare, reliving your fall, if he had to guess. You came out of it pretty quick when he carefully grabbed your shoulder. Every instinct in his body told him to gather you into his arms and cover you with his own scent and protective embrace to calm you down.

Through sheer willpower, he managed to ignore every single one of those instincts.

Two days pass, in which you and Dean say very little to one another, besides when he asks you what you want to eat, and how you’re feeling. The alpha seems genuine, but guarded any time you ask him about him; anything that’ll give you a clue into who this guy is, and why he’s here.

You try again to strike up some kind of conversation over dinner one night.

“Do you live here year-round?” you ask, around a mouthful of burger that’s absolutely delicious. He wasn’t lying when he claimed to be a good cook. He even made the fries himself.

“No,” he replies. “No Netflix, no internet? Think I’d die of boredom. I just come up here to uh…take a beat, I guess.”

You smile. “I don’t blame you. Sometimes you just need a break,” you say, even though your tone is heavier than you meant it to be. Your gaze, a bit distant in that moment, sharpens and focuses back on Dean. “Where are you from, then?”

“Kansas,” he offers.

“Oh really?” You brighten with that scrap of information. “My older sister lives in Topeka. She moved there for a job, initially, but then she met her guy. He’s some kind of day trader. Which is just code for sits on his ass playing Call of Duty while she busts hers.”

Dean huffs, then crams more burger into his mouth. He hasn’t been giving you a lot to go on while you two have been talking. Unfortunately, you have the tendency to ramble and fill the silence before it becomes even more stifled.

“She works at a bank. Smart, driven, always knows what she wants. Meanwhile, I’ve had about seven jobs in the last three years, none of which were even remotely related to my almost useless degree in Communications.”

“Yeah, doubt you need a degree in communicating,” Dean remarks, popping another fry into his mouth.

You purse your lips at him, but the glint of teasing in his eyes makes you fight not to smile.

“All right, smart guy. So, what about you?” you ask.

Predictably, the man’s walls firm back up. “What about me?”

“Well…why’re you up here alone? Do you have family?” you ask.

Dean quirks a half smile. “I’ve got a brother.”

“Okay. Younger, I’m guessing?”

He tilts his head at you, a bit amused at your guess. “Why’s that?”

“I don’t know,” you shrug. “I can’t imagine you with a brother who’s older than you.”

His lips twitch. “You callin’ me old, sweetheart?”

You begin to blush with embarrassment. But also, sweetheart?

You shake your head. “No, that’s not what I meant. I just mean like…”

Dean saves you with the return of his smile.

“Yeah, he’s younger,” he says. “But he’s the one with the quasi-wife and the apple pie life.”

“Quasi-wife?”

“They’re mated. Just haven’t gotten around to the whole getting hitched thing,” he explains. “But they’re happy. Dean Jr.’s growing up fast, already running full speed into glass doors.”

His smile is genuine when he talks about his brother, just tinged with a bit of melancholy, you think.

“Dean Jr.?” you ask in amusement. Dean Sr. laughs a little, and you enjoy the sound, the way it lightens up his face and pulls at the corners of his eyes.

“Yeah, can’t say I wasn’t surprised myself to get that honor, but…hey, it works for the kid. He’s got my chin,” he remarks.

He digs into his pocket to show you a picture from his cell phone. Even though it doesn’t have service, you can still view the many pictures of the adorable infant in his camera roll, courtesy of Sam and his mate, Eileen. You coo at the chubby cheeks, the bright little eyes, and the swirled tuft of dark hair on his head.

“Where do they live?” you ask.

“Out west, a stone’s throw from the City of Angels.” Dean’s smile dims. “He just had to go back to California.”

“What’s wrong with California?” you ask.

“It’s full of pretentious douchebags, that’s what,” he says, his voice a dry whip. “Waxed up to the fucking eyeballs, smelling like Botox, Adderall, and sweaty desperation.”

You splutter laughing so bad that your diet coke escapes you in a spit take. It partially goes up into your nose, burning, stinging your eyes, but it’s made worse by the way Dean waves a hand up incredulously. You’ve just gotten half his sleeve wet.

He meets your gaze, and you can’t help but laugh even harder.

“Wow,” he says.

“God, I’m sorry,” you say, still giggling. You get up, hobble over to the kitchen counter, and rip off a paper towel to try and pat his arm dry. He takes it from you and helps you back into your seat.

“I got it, Spit Take. Just finish your food,” he says, if with a dancing gleam in his eyes.

From then on, it becomes easier for you to pull the alpha into conversation. Besides reading, napping, and staring out the window while it snows, you don’t have much by way of entertainment. Not to mention the pain of trying to get around without crutches, as it also jostles your ribs. Dean often has to help you from one room to another, which of course, you get embarrassed by.

“I’m sorry!” you yelp, when he saves you from another crash landing in the hallway. You’re fresh out of a shower, and it had taken you twenty minutes just to figure out how to wash your hair on one leg, let alone dry yourself off and get your shirt and borrowed sweatpants on. The main problem in getting back to your room happened to be the pants themselves. Their length and bagginess made you slip.

At least Dean’s learned to ignore your apologies. He now holds you by the waist, having pulled you against his chest on reflex. With furrowed brows, he notices your pained hiss when you grab onto his arms for balance.

“You okay?” he asks with a note of alarm.

“Ribs,” you gasp. They’re throbbing sharply with his hold, especially after being rattled by the near fall.

He immediately adjusts his hold lower, holding your arm and hip to support you. His hands are strong, but gentle. The warmth and pressure of his touch rattles you more than almost falling into a heap. Cliché as it might be, your heart is beating faster, what seems like in and out of rhythm. A feeling you can’t name stirs and tugs at your lower belly when you hazard looking up into his eyes. They’re a nice shade of green, like a forest floor in the spring.

“You just go ass over tea kettle at any moment, huh?” he quips, his lips tugging upward. “Come on. Where were you headed?”

“To my room, wise guy,” you say wryly, even as your blush heats your face and neck. “But this is a great taxi service.”

He snorts. “Yeah, call it the Winchestermobile.”

“Winchester. That your last name? Like the rifle?” you ask, while he helps you carefully down the hall. He nods in confirmation.

“That’s interesting. You don’t meet many Winchesters,” you remark.

“Yeah, well, ain’t that many left,” he mutters.

“What?”

“Nothing,” he shakes his head, easing you down onto the edge of the bed. His hands go to his hips as he scrutinizes your form for further injury. “You good? I was about to get cracking on some lunch.”

You offer him a grateful smile. “Yeah, I’m good. What’s on the menu?”

“Nothing fancy. I’m thinking grilled cheese. Maybe some tomato soup, assuming I can find a can in the pantry,” he says.

“Honestly, that sounds awesome,” you say. “Haven’t had a grilled since…God, probably since I was a kid.”

At that, Dean smiles. “Well, I happen to make an awesome one. No less than three kinds of cheese.”

“If they’re as good as your burgers, then I don’t doubt it,” you reply. He seems pleased at that, and maybe a little bashful as his gaze falls away.

Cute, you think. Your smile grows.

“All right, well, stay tuned,” he says. He winks, tossing you a “gun for hand” gesture that makes you laugh. Dean wears a rugged exterior as easily as his winter jacket, but he’s also kind of a dork.

After lunch (delicious, as you predicted), you take the afternoon just to sort through Dean’s records and alphabetize them for him. You hunker down on the floor in front of the shelf, close to the record player.

“I don’t need all that. I know where all my stuff is…more or less,” he says, with a lazy wave of the beer he has in hand.

“Oh really?” you raise a brow. “Okay, let’s test that theory. Where’s Boston.”

“Right next to the White Album, there on the left.”

Sure enough, you find Boston, as well as the White Album by the Beatles.

“Oh my God, you actually have the White Album?” You open up the double-sided case in excitement to read the list of songs printed on the inside. “This thing is so expensive.”

“Beatles fan, huh?” Dean says as he takes a seat on the couch. You turn your smile on him, and he stills in his seat.

“Uh, yeah. Who isn’t?” you say.

Dean shrugs with a smile of his own. “Put it on if you want.”

You bounce a little with excitement before you figure out how to turn on his record player. You put the vinyl album on Side B, moving the needle until you find “Blackbird.”

“Of course,” Dean says, slightly teasing. You turn to him with crunched brows.

“What? ‘Blackbird’s’ a classic.”

“Eh. Everyone likes ‘Blackbird.’”

“That’s what a classic means,” you argue.

“More like a mainstream copout,” he says. You think it’s just to needle you, but you still purse your lips.

“Fine, Mr. Music Snob. Then what’s your favorite?”

“On the White Album?”

“Any Beatles song.”

“‘Hey, Jude,’” he says, after a moment. There’s some kind of weight in his eyes, a note of melancholy. You don’t miss it, even though you don’t know why it’s there.

“Everyone likes ‘Hey, Jude,’” you quip, trying to lighten him.

He smiles a little. “Yeah. Fair enough.”

Finally, the snowstorm breaks. Dean ventures outside and brings you back a long, sturdy stick to lean your weight on when you want to move around, though he claims he’s working on a better solution. Now that the snow has let up, he’ll be able to go out to the shed and do some work.

Whatever that means, you think.

You watch him from the living room when he goes outside to chop some more firewood.

He should really wear a hat. His brown hair is getting dusted white with snow flurries as he continues to swing down the ax. You notice the power in his tall frame, even covered by layers of his jacket, pants, and boots. You almost feel each chop of the wood resonate in your chest.

Heat rises in your cheeks when he looks up, as if he senses he’s being watched. You bow your head and pretend to read your book.

His boots continue to crunch in the snow as he makes trips back and forth from the surrounding forest. Aside from the firewood, he brings back a few long, thinner logs that he takes to the shed. Soon you begin to hear the steady back-and-forth cutting of a saw. You wish you could go out there and take a look, but you can’t even get around the house that easily, let alone venture outside.

Your curiosity about this man knows no bounds, and you decide to use the walking stick he found for you in the meantime to get around without putting pressure on your injured ankle. You know it’s wrong, but you end up traversing the long, dark hallway, pushing open the door to the right, and venturing into Dean’s room.

It smells like him, earthy and tinged with smoke. His scent is seeped into every part of it—the bed, the dresser and nightstands, the dark blue bedsheets, the desk and chair, and even the drapes. It makes you almost lightheaded at the pleasurable feeling of it washing over you.

A shudder suddenly runs down your spine and tugs at your core in arousal. With a sharp intake of breath, you have to shift on your feet, pressing your legs together against the slick already forming down below.

You’re shocked and embarrassed at first. You aim to bolt out of his room, but you stop short in the doorway as it dawns on you.

Your sister is a beta, and so is her husband. She’s never completely understood you as an omega. She never understood your parents either, or the bond they had. She always scoffed at the idea of “true mates.”

Soulmates. It was fantasy and myth, the stuff of cheesy Harlequin novels.

Growing up, you’d agreed with her, even though a part of you deep down always protested. It wanted to tell her not to open her mouth about something she knew nothing about, and would never know.

The day you met Dean, you knew she was wrong.

Your more logical mind tries again to reassert itself though. You remind yourself that you barely know anything about this man, no matter how attractive, kind, funny, enigmatic…

And yet, you can’t shake that part of you that doesn’t rest until you see his face in the morning; until you make him coffee and eat breakfast together, and take any opportunity to pull more threads from him. It’s more than passing attraction. It’s more than just being stuck together in this cabin, unable to escape each other. You know, because the feeling scares you, and it electrifies your blood at the same time.

All these thoughts go through your mind when you turn back around. Slowly, you continue to look around his room, your whole body tingling. The room is neat, more or less, with everything in its proper place. It’s pretty bare though, décor wise. There’s a desk with a few scattered books and a journal sandwiched in between. A smile of surprise forms across your face.

No. Don’t tell me this guy is Mr. Dear Diary? you think in amusement. Though you wonder if it’s another way he passes his time here, especially when he’s holed up in his room.

You know you shouldn’t be snooping, let alone contemplating what you’re about to do…but you can’t help yourself. Biting your lip, you slide out the journal and begin to flip through it.

You frown at the strange drawings and odd entries—dates, narratives, scraps of information on different types of mythological creatures, and even more strange, on how to kill them.

What the hell is this?

That’s when you hear the front door swing open. You bolt from his room as quick as you can, not realizing you took the journal with you in your haste. You stuff it up your sweater and pretend like you’ve just come out of the bathroom on the way back to your room. There you slide the journal under your pillow. You jump when Dean knocks on your door.

“Hey,” he greets.

The jolting pains your ribs, and your hand goes to your left side in a hiss.

“You okay?” he asks, brows furrowing in concern. He takes a step into your room, but you turn to him with a nod and a placating hand.

“Yeah, I’m fine. You just scared me,” you say, with a bit of nervous laughter.

He gives a half smile. “Sorry. Just come ‘ere a sec. I wanna show you something.”

He reaches out a hand to help guide you to the living room.

There he presents you with two rudimentary crutches. Your eyes widen as your free hand passes over the smooth chestnut color of the wood. Dean keeps a light hold on your elbow, just in case.

“You made these?” you ask.

“Yeah, just a bit of woodworking. Picked it up over the last couple of years,” he says.

He’s downplaying it, but you’re nothing short of marveling. You set aside the walking stick in favor of picking up the crutches, and they’re even the right size to position them under your arms.

“Now you don’t have to hobble around like Long John Silver,” Dean quips. You meet the sight of his grin with a raised brow, but you soon begin to smile. When you get close enough to him, you lean the crutches against the couch and give him a warm hug, resting your head on his chest.

“Thank you,” you say. It’s something he was wholly unprepared for, but he hugs you back with a chuckle.

“Uh, you’re welcome.”

Just then, he tries not to inhale your scent. He tries not to focus on the feeling of your body pressed soft and warm against his. You fit just right.

After a beat, you have mercy on him and pull away. You take your crutches back up and continue to walk around the living room experimentally.

“You think I’d be okay trying to go outside?” you ask on your way to the door. Dean tenses.

“Uh, I don’t think—”

But you’re already halfway out the door. He shakes his head and follows you with swift strides. He watches you step out carefully onto the porch like a baby deer. He cleared the snow this morning from the deck and the steps, but he’s more concerned when he sees you considering how you might step out onto the snow.

“Stay on the porch, all right, Bambi,” he warns. “You’re not wearing snow boots and it’s still pretty deep. Not to mention, I’ve been keeping an eye out for a bear that wandered through here last week—”

You turn to look at him over your shoulder in amusement.

“Okay, Alpha. Calm down,” you say playfully. “I’m not gonna go ass over tea kettle.”

His brow twitches as he frowns. Alpha. He fights not to show his reaction to the way you said it; it calls to his baser instincts, almost stirring a rumble in his chest.

Cheeky little omega.

You keep to the porch, but regardless, you’re happy. You don’t even mind the cold. You see your breath on the air, and you tip your head back, closing your eyes with a smile as the sunshine warms your face. You inhale through your nose and let it out slowly in contentment.

“It’s a good day, Dean,” you say quietly.

You don’t realize that he’s watching you with a more reserved smile on his face. When he realizes it, he shakes his head at himself. He’s only been here a week with you, and it’ll probably take a couple more for your ankle to heal up well enough for you to walk again, let alone get down the mountain.

He doesn’t want to leave you alone up here, so he’ll have to somehow keep fending off your probing questions into his past and personal life. There's a lifetime of blood, nightmares, and death that he just can't let you see behind his eyes.

Hell, he's been trying to shove it all down for the past year—in booze and odd jobs and trips to nowhere, always coming back to an empty bunker. He still wonders how Sam's managed to do it, to move on, and build a new life for himself.

If Dean's honest (and he's not), he feels a bit like this cabin; old, falling apart, and forgotten.

But he’ll have to keep taking in your brightness and warmth, continue arguing with you about music and other inane shit, and pretend that every small touch of yours doesn’t ignite his skin. That it doesn’t make him have to beat down every instinct he has to pull you into his body and blanket you with his scent, ravage you, claim you, and make you his.

He never thought this would happen to him. He never thought someone like you was out there…for someone like him.

He knows it though, deep in his gut. You’re meant for him. You’re meant to be his mate.

Which means he’s already screwed.

AN: And we're off! Special thanks again to Michelle (@luci-in-trenchcoats) for being my sounding board when I was first writing this series. Let me know what you think of Part 1! 💜

Next Time:

I buried my wife today. Even as I write that down, I don’t believe it. Last week we were a normal family…eating dinner, going to Dean’s T-ball game, buying toys for baby Sammy. But in an instant, it all changed…

When I try to think back, get it all straight in my head…I feel like I’m going crazy. Like someone ripped both my arms off, plucked my eyes out. I’m wandering around, alone and lost and I can’t do anything.

This is Dean’s father, you realize. The more that you read, with no small amount of dismay, you also realize that this man is writing about his wife, Mary.

Dean’s mom…

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forget-me-nightingale · 3 days ago

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My favourite things about S7 of the Dragon Prince (part 1)

Because I need to let my emotions OUT and I know there is a lot of people here who will understand that<3 And also because I need to thank @dragonprinceofficial for creating a masterpiece of a show and because I am so sad there's so many posts about being disappointed in the season - like sure, it might've not been perfect, but it was SO GOOD and there was SO MUCH WORK put into it that I just HAVE to show how much love I have in my heart for these characters, this story and this entire show Part two will be posted tomorrow<3 1: DEATH ALIVE

Ethari's deep "Hmm…" at the beginning, his new design, the denialllll

Runaan being so stubborn about getting back to Ethari and ALLEN PICKING HIM UP BRIDAL STYLE THAT CAUGHT ME SO OFF GUARD

Also Runaan lying in bed shirtless groaning and whimpering was not something that was on my 2024 bingo list but ho boy am I glad

Callum's grief after he got back to Katolis-- they showed it SO WELL, the heavy breathing, and then the mumbled "Soren, what happened…?" and Soren's voice breaking as well at the "There was nothing I could do!" as he breaks down crying that was SUCH GOOD PERFORMANCE FROM BOTH OF THEM SO RAW AND GENUINE AND EMOTIONAL Also the RELIEF Callum must've felt when he saw Soren after fearing that everyone died hgjdhgk you can literally see it in his eyes

Huge Aaravos just sexily lounging around next to the bones of his archdragon archenemy

Astrid going "I never promised." was so badass

Ezran going "We have to find Sol Regem and destroy him" after giving several speeches on how he wants to end the cycle of violence and just stop it all made me laugh so hard-- Like don't get me wrong, I know he's a kid and he's hurt and angry and that his reaction's justified but I just heavily dislike his character, and the fact that he threw his entire philosophy away the moment his emotions took over only strengthened it lmao

Aanya has such a gorgeous soft voice, I love listening to it SO much

Claudia and Terry's little flinch as Aaravoss gestured to show "an Archdragon's bite" hgfjdghjdfk

THE THUNDERING FOOTSTEPS AS HE WALKS like- It shows so well how MASSIVE he is in that form I love

THE FASHION SHOW AARAVOS PULLS OUT GDFKHGDFJK "Startouch may be too dazzzling, don't you think?" and the way he turns towards them with this flirtatious ass smirk jkdgfhkg

"I know you like Earthblood, Claudia" 😭

Runaan's moment of silence before going "NOT. ONE. MINUTE. LONGER." and the dramatic zooms on his face had me IN STITCHES

Also him going "Katolis…? Is t… is that necessary?" he's probably having like PTSD flashbacks thinking about that dungeon and the pain of Viren putting his soul in the coin 😭😭 and also Jonathan's voice as he says it is SO SMOOTH and velvety and I'm in love with that voice so much, I could listen to it for hOURS

We finally het to see Aaravos' human form and it's INCREDIBLE, and the fact that the first thing he does is to fake being injured is so Aaravos of him LMAO

Also I wonder how did Callum not recognize his voice??? I'm sure he thought a LOT about what happened when Aaravos possessed him that one time, and he sure had a lot of time to hear how he sounds like, and besides-- a voice like that would not be easy to forget even he Callum didn't have such traumatic memories attached to it lol

And the fact that Aaravos literally said Sol Regem killed his daughter :(( He literally never lies, not even under a disguise

The famous shot with Runaan and Rayla looking at Katolis<3 it was so nice to finally see it in the actual show

"Are you not the elf who killed my father, the King of Katolis?" "…I am." it was so soft and sad gdhjghfdjkghjfdk And then him WILLINGLY getting on his knees and putting his hands behind his back 🥺

2: TRUE HEART

I love the theme that sounded playing when Aaravos' team was approaching The Puzzle House, like it was the main theme but with like- circus undertones? Or these little music box rhythmic parts and clock ticking? Very cool vibes especially with how the house was portrayed in the little comic, with this almost steampunkish robotic inventions, LOVED it

"You don't have to ask!" I'm not a HUGE Rayllum shipper but oh my God that was such a sweet moment And then Callum going "That was salty" and Rayla chuckling "the tears" njgfdhjgjfjdd

Runaan having his wrists chained up AGAIN in the Banther Lodge give that man A BREAK

THE SCENE where Stella attacks the guards and they stumble over each other and Runaan just looks at them with pity and the camera zooms in on him I HAD TO PAUSE JUST I WAS LAUGHING SO HARD, the comedy of that moment was just 👌 And then Runaan going "hello there" 🥹 he's so soft and then calling out Rayla's name and smiling up at her???? hgfjkghjkdf

"Stop right there, Rayla! Part of me wishes I hadn't seen you… But my eyesight is perfect." so dramatic gdhg I love him And they Rayla's dark and low "Then just look away, Soren." was SO badass And poor Runaan having to hide behind her-- he's probably so upset that he can't fight them off on his own

"But Ez, this is exactly the cycle of violence you fought so hard to end! You forgave Zubeia!" "What?" "Who do you think sent Runaan to kill Dad?" EXACTLY WHAT I WAS SAYING And then he STILL throws it away and orders the soldiers to arrest him fjkhg I'm sorry if I'm upsetting the Ezran fans but I have such beef with his character LMAO

Soren desperately yelling "RICKETY SNICKERS" at the top of his goddamn lungs during their fight must've been SO WEIRD for Rayla without any context LMAOOO And Runaan giving her tips to help in that way at least was SO COOL I LOVED THAT "He overextends himself, Rayla! His front leg!" We finally got that father/daughter mentor/student duo LET'S GOO

Terry giggling at the sight of the carousel made me giggle and smile so much too it was SO BEYOND WHOLESOME AND THEN AARAVOS ACTUALLY HAVING GENUINE FUN ON THE RIDE AS WELL LMAOOO it was SO FUNNY but also SO wholesome at the same time I loved it SO MUCH

And also it was very very cool to see the carousel ride itself after seeing it in the House of Riddles comic - like, it's one thing seeing it there on paper, but it's a whole different thing to see it actually animated, it was AWESOME

"Oh no, are you okay??" "Okay?! I was confined to a tiny sphere in the mouth of a clam at the bottom of the sea for thee long, lonely centuries. That… was the most fun I've had in AGES!" THE EWAY HE LAUGHS AND GIGGLES like you can hear the genuine joy in his voice oh my God I was smiling so much We got a glimpse of how he would've been if Leola hadn't died and he could just play and goof around with her 😭

The Dragon Prince just casually mentioned a character practicing self-cannibalism and didn't even linger on it for a SECOND before moving on LMAO

Aanya shooting at Runaan actually got me SO SCARED especially when Rayla threw himself in front of him frjgkfdh please don't stress me out like that Thank God it was just his arm that was nicked but the man CAN'T GET A BREAK

And holy shit the expression on Ezran's face when he lifted his hand to give Aanya the signal, it was like-- so sad and hesitant, like "don't make me do this", the artists captured the expression SO WELL

And the lighting and the scene and the music that played during the scene when Rayla, Runaan and Callum ran to the boat was SO GORGEOUS-- like, the contrast between the golden light of the setting sun and the deep blue of the shadows, how Ezran's face and the soldiers were in the shadows but the rest was bathed in the light, and the scenery and the sky was just so breathtaking

Also Runaan caught Callum when he jumped in the boat 🥹

3: THE GLITTERING BONES

The Sunfire soldiers chanting "Queens of Mercy" was so epic

Soren going "You're the bread" at Corvus to try and lighten the mood at least a little bit and it completely not working broke my heart, he's trying so hard

And then Ezran snapping even at Zym??? Bro.

Claudia doing the nose tap thing again!!!!!!❤️ It's back!! And she was so happy giggling and laughing and everything, like yesss let a girl be happy and goofy

The Garden of Innocents was soooooo gorgeous

Aaravos saying "There is nothing to be afraid of, Claudia" as she reanimates the unicorn bones 🥹 Was that a callback to him saying "there's nothing to fear" to Leola or am I reaching too far And THEN him saying "Well done" gjdfhfgdkj

"You remind me of her" THERE WE GOOOO he has such a soft spot for her "…and silly"❤️

That scene when Janai snaps at Karim!!!!!! The performance was SO GOOD, the raw FRUSTRATION and helplessness and anger and desperation in her voice!!! Especially that "How many times do I have to attempt to spare you?!" line??????

4: UNFINISHED BUSINESS

Callum, Runaan and Rayla doing the ritual dance all together was so beautiful already, and then Runaan's "I dreamt of this" gfdjkghdk

"Yeah, but… You'll want a minute with Ethari, right? A minute alone…..?" and Runaan being quiet and hesitating for a bit and then just going "…. yes. :)"

Okay so the Reunion scene-- I'm a huge Ruthari shipper and Runaan is my absolute favourite character in the show (if you couldn't tell by now), along with Ethari, so you can imagine the state I was in at that scene--- Like- First the way Ethari looks at Runaan in the reflection, cause he's probably so used to doing it to see if Rayla came back to him???? And calling him his "beloved phantom" and Runaan's expression changing to confusion- you can literally SEE him smiling softly at the "hello, my beloved" but as Ethari says "phantom" his expression immediately changes and it's portrayed SO WELL GJDHGDJ

"I see you everywhere…. Hear your voice when you aren't there… But I am BEGGING you, Runaan, leave me be. Let me let you go." "But I made you a promise." "And I long to make peace with its breaking." That was such an absolutely gorgeous piece of dialogue, and I've already talked about how I love Runaan's voice, but Ethari's as well??? The accent, the slight rasp, the kind of rough-iness in it, the hard 'r's, like oh my God, every time he speaks I am just enchanted

And THEN Ethari flinching away as Runaan touches him cause he was so sure that it's just his imagination-- and Runaan kissing his hand-- and the "It's me. I'm home." sounded SO GORGEOUS and if you look at Ethari's lips you can see them trembling cause he's about to cry--- AND THEN THE KISS OF COURSE I WAS CRYING SO MUCH WE'VE WAITED LITERAL SIX YEARS FOR THIS DAMN KISS CAUSE RUNAAN GOT IMPRISONED IN THE FIRST SEASON WHICH CAME OUT IN SEPTEMBER 2018 SIX YEARS IN AZKABAN

And the music that plays during the kiss too? ;_; I need the entire soundtrack out ASAP

RAYLA PANICKING ABOUT RUNAAN CATCHING HER AND CALLUM KISSING GFJDHGJDHGD She almost threw him off the damn branch LMAO

Ethari going "Not another word, Rayla!" as she starts to try and make her problems smaller gjddhkgd "Your family is here for you" 🥹🥹🥹

The slow realization I had of why exactly Aaravos needed Terry to find a BIG feather and a SMALL feather The way the creators intentionally made it set in so slowly And Terry going "I SAID STOP" with this pure RAGE in his voice, and Aaravos just flicking him off with a single gesture

"She would do anything to return to them, but she can't." subtle reference to Leola again And also Aaravos' coldness in that scene hfjgkdghjj no wonder Terry was terrified

The fact that Runaan has a title of "Master of Blades"?? I love it so much

"Rayla yet lives." "You speak the name of a Ghost." "I SPEAK THE NAME OF MY DAUGHTER." !!!!!!!!!!!!! 🥹🥹🥹❤️❤️❤️

The way Rayla holds her hands over Runaan and Ethari's joined ones as she appears gfjdhk I love the Moonfam so so so so much

"To invoke the ritual, one of you must bind your fate to hers." "Both of us, Keeper." SAID WHILE HOLDING HANDS AND LOOKING AT EACH OTHER SO LOVINGLY JFDKGHJKD

Terry telling Aaravos "You're sick." HOHOHOHOOOO and the way Aaravos circles him like a predator around his prey was so scary

Ethari putting a hand on Runaan's shoulder and Runaan covering it with his own to reassure him gdjfhgdfjk

Rayla calling the four assassing by names and their names being spoken in general for the FIRST time in the series--- I was so happy and surprised to hear it And the references to the pledge they made so long ago in the first season 🥹

"A life for a life… is that justice?" the way Rayla said it was so nice and soft and sad and jdgfhk

RUNAAN HUGGING RAYLA OUT OF HIS OWN INITIATIVE GHDFJGHDJKGHK

I was literally SO SCARED when the Keeper snapped and revealed he was Ram's father, I literally whimpered out loud cause I was SO FREAKING WORRIED that they won't get through to him and he won't unghost her I was STRESSING

And then Rayla just crying in Callum's arms??? 🥺🥺

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kaiserouo · 2 days ago

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[arthur | eleanor]

im tagging the hex appeared in the post because it's getting way too long

oh yeah i forgot i didn't know about that

that... answered a lot of questions, about other hex too. i think the only one i don't know why he's here is amir

---

i kinda want to choose the first option but now i am extremely intrigued

...okay, im not surprised she hasn't grown a tail, but i AM surprised she's answering me, like that.

huh. also i actually don't know how they do that in ANY culture. but the first option is boring so

HUH. im so glad i chose that

oh. that ended quick. also interesting you're asking for female specifically *eyeing lettie*

okay i kinda get what you mean by power imbalances. i guess the existence of orokins kinda begs the question too

i kinda get it but i just don't have any good examples rn

wait i fear that i don't even know why she wanna have this conversation in the first place

we are having a lot of interesting conversations today. also did the "power imbalance" you mentioned actually means "is able to stop you when you are tonguing someone but the tongue is sharp and can open a hole in one's chest" and the "female" part is actually you?

okay

yeah i kinda get the thought process.

---

holy shit im broke

when was the last time you have more plat than credits hollars

#warframe #warframe 1999 #warframe spoilers #ramble

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its-hazzia · 3 days ago

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Okay I need to spell out my thoughts about the Luigi Mangione stuff goin on

I am not at all convinced he did it. And not in a "no way he and I were hanging out that day at that time in Panama" way either, even though we totally were but that's besides the point.

So I've seen other people discuss how it doesn't make sense for someone who had thought out and executed a plan for the murder AND escape so flawlessly, only to be caught with all that incriminating evidence in-hand a week later at a McDonalds in another state, which is obviously kinda a huge deal, but I have further thoughts on what's going on.

So Luigi does indeed look like the Starbucks security footage, and it does seem that he had used a fake ID to stay in the hostel (assuming it was him in the hostel to begin with, and I only say this out of an assumption that the hostel verified the ID used and that we're not just taking the police's word for it, but it'd also just be easier for the police to be like "yeah he used his real actual ID and that's how we got him" so I'm fairly confident about a fake ID being used). We know that he had been missing for months ahead of time, and we know that he had been suffering from chronic back pain prior to a spinal surgery.

Why don't I think he did it? Well aside from the questionable legitimacy of the "evidence" he was found with, after that Starbucks photo came out, EVERYBODY was immediately like "that looks nothing like the shooter". Sure, you can add a change of clothes and people have pointed out that the unibrow can disappear on grainy footage, but from what else you can see of the face, it does not look the same. Once again you could chalk it up to poor image quality... but then how can you match an identity in the first place?? The NYPD have never come out with any good justification as to WHY they thought the guy on the starbucks camera was thought to be the shooter. It wasn't even the same damn jacket! In my opinion, in their frenzy to not look completely incompetent and catch The Guy, they were just throwing everything they could and were ready to go all-in on framing investigating Literally Anyone that could function as a reasonable scapegoat.

"But his profile and circumstances really line up to make it look like he was radicalized by his pain and Absconded to Do a Murder!"

While this is a good point on a surface level, I'm not convinced that it lines up the way this narrative is playing it, and I think the NYPD just got really lucky with this scapegoat.

"His Back Pain Radicalized Him": HE HAD HIS BACK SURGERY, AND MADE A FULL RECOVERY. He wasn't denied by his insurance - and according to a post he made on reddit, he was completely off pain meds a week after! All things considered, the insurance worked out pretty damn well for him! Oh yeah and HE HAD BLUE CROSS BLUE SHIELD

"Then Why Did He Go Missing?": Think about it. He was an upper class kid who had been crippled by back pain for a significant portion of what should have been his fun years. I don't think anyone has to stretch their imagination to think that maybe he'd fuck off somewhere on his own to reclaim that lost time? Just, source a fake ID so your family doesn't find you, hopping from town to town in budget-friendly accomodations and happening to be in NYC when A Guy gets shot (crazy). Sure, kind of a dick move to just not tell anyone what he was planning to do, but we don't know what his relationships with his family were like, nor do any of us know him personally as to what he would and wouldn't do, no matter how many news articles of what kind of guy he is come out.

So really, which is more likely:

The Adjuster was a guy that was radicalized after the healthcare system, under a different provider, worked for him, after which he planned out a meticulous murder + escape plan only to effectively give himself up a week later?

The incompetent undewfunded and ovewwowked uwu NYPD was desperate to not look like complete fucking idiots regarding such a high profile case in their jurisdiction, but because they never learned how to do their fucking jobs wewe just sooo undewfunded and ovewwowked uwu they just threw a bunch of shit at the wall until something stuck and happened to get lucky that the guy they found happened to have been A) a missing person and B) Had A Serious Medical Thing At Some Point

#luigi mangione #uhc ceo #uhc shooter #uhc assassin #the adjuster

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eyelinerpal · 11 hours ago

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I gotta talk about this more because I'm seeing even more posts about how "The Substance is sexist it reinforces that older women are disposable" or "The Substance is sexualizing women it's just the male gaze" and like we don't all have to have the same takeaway from a movie things aren't totally black and white and the movie wasn't perfect but it's just like... did you watch Breaking Bad and think the message was "selling meth is cool"?

Depicting something =/= endorsing it. Society *does* view older women as disposable, and The Substance showed that reality and then showed the harm it causes. Elizabeth seemed fine with herself until her gross chews-with-his-mouth-open male boss tells her she's too old and needs to be replaced by someone younger and more "perfect" and then she's so obsessed with obtaining that she literally let's it kill her and it's *still* not enough.

Like we do not all need to have the same view of the movie, we don't all need to think it's feminist, there are a lot of different angles and ways to view something. But the fact that media literacy is at a point where a movie that simply *shows* older women being discarded, or women killing themselves in a futile attempt to be "enough" by society's standards is critized because having those things on screen must mean the movie is agreeing with them is...frankly kind of scary actually.

Yeah you might feel like the sexualized visuals of Sue were overdone, that's a valid way to feel, that kind of thing can evoke different reactions in different people. But personally those scenes felt uncomfortable. They were so over produced and over the top and mixed in between scenes of just gross yucky stuff it felt so...fake. and yeah she was objectified, the point was she wasn't seen/treated as a person just an object.

I just really think we need to move way way past the idea that feminist media is only "#GirlPower" and the only way to have a feminist lense is for the story to be "woman pushes back against beauty standards and sexism because she knows better." These systems exist in society and many many girls and women are indoctrinated into them. Analyzing them is also feminist. Showing them as the evil monstrous things they are is also feminist. Movies do not need to have a clear villain to have a message. There is no single villain in sexism. It's not one studio head, it's not even "men" in general. Women can and do uphold these misogynistic structures as well! Often, like Elizabeth, even at their own detriment.

People are certainly free to have differing views and not everyone has to like the things I like but I really think those kinds of reviews and complaints are so so shallow and frankly feminism will get us nowhere if we can't go beyond the surface of "this movie showed sexism its sexist" or "Men bad women good."

And like, it may also just not be your type of movie! That's totally fine, and does not mean you need to think it's harmful. It's a psychological body horror, that will never appeal to everyone.

Anyway

why is it that movies directed by women about beauty standards and/or the state of being valued as a woman only for your looks/appearances are ALWAYS criticized for “not being feminist enough” (ex. barbie, etc.)

#the substance #horror #meg post #feminist horror

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ladykailitha · 1 day ago

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Howlin' for Yule

Hello and welcome to my Christmas AUvent Calendar! Every day from now until the 24th I will be posting a ficlet that is 500-1500 from an AU I've done over the years.

All stories will be marked with the tag #12 aus of christmas so you can follow along as I will only be tagging my permanent list for this (it would get too confusing otherwise).

The next one on our list is: Werewolf verse. You can read the story here. All links will be to the first chapter, but the chapter itself will have links to the rest of the story.

Do you know how ridiculously proud I am of that title? Do you? Because I am so damn proud of that title. Also welcome to the one that got away from me. I could have kept it short. They dance, they schmooze, and they go home.

But I wanted to write more with this one and when I realized if I wanted this to end on the 24th, I should have started on the 13th, instead of the 12th, I figured I could extend this and post it Christmas Eve.

Day 1 Day 2 Day 3 Day 4 Day 5 Day 6 Day 7 Day 8 Day 9

Eddie stood in front of a mirror and fussed with his tie. He usually got a chuckle from seeing his reflection in a mirror because according to Wayne that one only became a myth recently with them no longer using silver to back them anymore. But not even that thought could bring a smile to his face.

Because he had to look super nice for his boyfriend’s big Yule Tide ‘do up at the new vampire coven’s place. After the Creel house had almost burnt down when Jason attacked, Chrissy thought it would be better to move the coven somewhere safer. Closer to civilization so that if that happened again, they could get help faster.

They had bought a beautiful mansion in Loch Nora that was able to house all the remaining members of the coven comfortably. It even had a large room just for balls. Which is what this most certainly was.

When Chrissy suggested it back in October, she had merely suggested party including the vampires and werewolves as a way to foster peace between them. But Steve, the beautiful big brained and even bigger hearted had suggested a Yule Ball for all the supernatural beings in Hawkins.

So that meant that all Eddie’s friends were going to be there and he had to look nice.

“You look like you’re going to a funeral,” Wayne groused from behind him. “Probably your own judging from the sour expression on his face.

Eddie whirled around in shock. Wayne was standing there in early 18th century clothes in golds and browns. He looked amazing. “Why can’t I look like that?!”

Wayne looked down at his attire and then back up. “Would you like to?”

Eddie cocked his head to the side. “I mean we really don’t have much time to make me something like that.” He waved at Wayne’s outfit. “Because I don’t think your clothes will fit me very well.”

Wayne chuckled. “Oh ye of little faith. You take that monkey suit off, and I’ll play fairy goduncle. Go on.”

Eddie raised a questioning eyebrow but did as he was told. He hadn’t been gone two scant minutes when he came back and all the clothes were laid out on his bed. Silks, velvet, and lace all in black. He would cut a dashing figure for sure.

He hurried to get dressed and then rushed out to the front to the kitchen and poured out a bowl of milk, placing it on the windowsill.

Wayne chuckled from the living room. “She owed me a favor, but I’m sure she will appreciate the treat anyway.”

Eddie shook his head. “It’s just good manners.”

Wayne nodded solemnly. He had raised this boy right. Not just in the ways of the supernatural, but in the ways of being a good human, too.

Then the sound of horses arriving, clattered outside their window and they both exited the trailer to see an elegant coach and four black horses.

“Your boy sure has a flare for the dramatic,” Wayne huffed as he was helped into the carriage by an actual footman. Something that Wayne had never experienced in his long life.

Eddie could only agree. In the last light of the shortest day of the year, the driver and footman seemed to glimmer as though they had a glamour placed over them to look vaguely human.

They pulled up to the coven’s new home and Eddie let out a wolf whistle. “The new Dominus seems to have her own flare for the dramatic.”

“Nah,” Wayne said as he exited the carriage, “that just comes from being a vampire.”

They were shown into what Eddie could only call a ballroom. It was massive. It was currently setup with long mahogany tables with little nameplates in front of every placement. The eating utensils were gold, the glasses were crystal, and plates were fine china.

It screamed opulence and once Eddie would have turned tail and ran. But not anymore. Being a vampire changed that, for sure, but what really cinched the deal was the man, standing next to the Dominus in a beautiful red and gold outfit similar to what Wayne and Eddie were wearing.

Steve Harrington, Roane Pack Alpha.

To be continued on Dec. 24th

Day 11

I could have waited until the 23rd to post this one, but there was something symbolic about posting it on the day of the winter solstice. The longest night.

Tag List: CLOSED

1- @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @zerokrox-blog @sadisticaltarts @dolphincliffs

2- @gregre369 @a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @cryptid-system @kultiras

3- @maya-custodios-dionach @goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog

4- @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @forgottenkanji @dreamercec @blondie1006

5- @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @genderless-spoon @fearieshadow @thesecondfate

6- @dragonmama76 @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual @disrespectedgoatman

7- @counting-dollars-counting-stars @tinyplanet95 @ravenfrog @swimmingbirdrunningrock @lingeringmirth

8- @gutterflower77 @a-lovely-craziness @just-a-tiny-void @w1ll0wtr33 @beelze-the-bubkiss

#my writing #stranger things #steddie #ladykailtiha writes #the 12 aus of christmas

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kiraridertime03 · 3 days ago

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We need to free the Weasel

A brief discussion about the way that Creature Commandos uses politics in its narratives.

Spoilers for it and everything else James Gun DC up to this point though, below the cut.

Also, it is a busy post, content warnings for discussions of white supremacists and cops, as it is necessary.

With the release of the trailer of James Gunn's Superman film, hype for his grand DC Universe has kicked into high gear, and for good reason. That trailer, no matter the quality of the final film, is a goddamn work of art. A piece of film that understands Superman better over the course of 2 minutes and 20 seconds than Zack Snyder did over the course of 3 overlong movies. That mixed with his solid back catalogue of Superhero films. However, slightly more obscurely, this universe has already started with the animated series Creature Commandos, and especially with the fourth episode, which released hours before Superman's trailer, shows the kind of skill and thought Gunn and co. are putting into this new universe.

At its front, Creature Commandos feels very... blunt, in a lot of ways. It's like The Suicide Squad but with Creatures! It's big and raunchy, being an animated series with blood and swearing and sex and whatnot. And, when it comes with its politics, some of the early villain's mooks are a bunch of weird incels, and one of the main characters constantly advocates for killing Nazis. It is a work that immediately shows its hand, making the type who would decry the wokeness of modern movies and games or whatever. However, with these early examples, it can feel like a bit too much, maybe. I love it, don't get me wrong, I'm the type to really enjoy blunt earnestness. Though, given the more comedic approach that many of these elements take in the early episodes, it can feel a bit like it's only there for the bit.

Where the series really starts to excel, though, is when it starts integrating its flashback segments. As a whole, even outside the point of this post, the flashbacks feel like a wonderful decision. A way of fleshing out our characters while giving each episode a distinct feel, justifying the series as, well, a series rather than just one long movie. However, here, I want to discuss some of its political ideas, and how they integrate. Because, for these, they integrate more thematically, being an undertone to each character's own story.

For the bride, her story is centered around this idea of the objectification of women. I mean, it makes sense. She was literally made to simply be the bride of Frankenstein, an object of his affection. However, as she gained her own independence, the masculine figure who feels he is owed her hand in marriage breaks out into a rage, harming her and the person she actually loves. This story is what gives her the cynical edge she gains in the series proper, giving her an interesting, sympathetic story while using the elements of said story to say something about how many men perceive woman. A strong enough parable that acts as an undercurrent for her character.

Then, we get to G.I. Robot's episode, a real tear-jerker of a thing about a silly robot character, the exact thing to set my brain off in all sorts of ways. Much of this story is designed to set up his tragic past, so that we can feel catharsis once he gets his big moment, then feel the tragedy when he gets brutally murdered. However, it again is saying a lot of complex things. Many have discussed the PTSD angle for GI, which I do see, however, in GI's story specifically, I see the way that the American state treats veterans. Like, think about it. This being who was forged and created for the purpose of making war, goes to war, then once the war is over, they are, best, used for spectacle on live TV (Where they are unable to properly adjust to the tone of peacetime, accusing the audience of being Nazis themselves), studied not to help them, but to make the next generation of soldiers even more efficient at their goal of warcraft, then thrown to the side when they are no longer useful. The man selling GI to the collector literally says he slipped through the cracks. It, again, is a wonderful metaphor that takes advantage of what GI is, and uses it to emphasize these issues in a more literal way. It is a lot easier to show a robot who was programmed in a specific way weird the room out than the rocky adjustments a veteran may have to go through. It then, also, shows the kinds of people who really benefit from this warcraft, those it appeals to. The collector who buys GI turns out to be a part of a White Supremacist group in America, a group of people who gladly use Nazi iconography, identify with it, and gladly push it. Those also happen to be the types who want to buy old war memorabilia. Obviously, not all war collectors are Nazis. But these are people who see this kind of might makes right ideology that America so often employs with its military, and latch onto it. GI, rightfully, finds this appaling, and kills them on sight. It is this wonderful moment from this delightfully twisted series.

However, even that could be seen as a tad blunt. Again, GI is very clear with his words, he doesn't hide much. So, where I see this series going from good to great is with Weasel's flashback segments. This begins when a lawyer, a member of a nonprofit, demands she see Weasel, as she is putting on a case for him. In essence, she states that, at least to her and her organization, he was unjustly prosecuted. To both Rick Flag and us, this seems absurd, as we have a lot of predisposed biases towards Weasel. You see, he is one of the few pre-existing characters in this cast. Weasel was previously seen in James Gunn's The Suicide Squad, though only briefly. There, as a member of the Decoy Team, he makes weird, gross noises, they make a joke about him having killed 27 kids, then have him promptly drown before the mission even starts (Though, in the post credit, it turns out he survived, because that's even funnier). Even if you hadn't seen that film (Which you should if you haven't), they reestablish all that in this series in the first few episodes, portraying him as a stupid, vulgar, violent creature who isn't worthy of rights. However, expertly, this is all a front.

In the flashbacks, we learn that Weasel only interacted with about 8 kids, a bunch of students left at an after school program. Contrary to what we had been told, he really just played around with the kids, chasing around a ball. They eventually get inside the school and, while messing with stuff they shouldn't have, start a small fire. However, some antics are afoot. While he is playing around, an old senile man sees this and, rather than asking about what's going on, decides to run back to his home, call the cops about what is a clear, if odd, misunderstanding, then grab his gun to try to take things into his own hands. And, as he does, shakily trying to shoot Weasel, he makes the problem of the small fire worse, shooting a gas canister behind them, turning the small fire into a school-destroying explosion and fire. Then, the cops show up. Many of the kids are already dead, seemingly, but one survived. So, as he pulls her out of the wreckage, what do the cops do? They start shooting. Throughout this whole sequence, the cops do nothing but shoot and get in the way of things. It all culminates in the final shots, where Weasel has dropped the kid after being shot. And, instead of either of them going to get the kid, they both pin Weasel down, try to pull him out. This leaves the young girl to be crushed.

This is a massive tragedy, a game of tragic misudnerstandings that gets kids killed. However, again, it does this by hiding its politics into a genuinely moving character based story to make them more effective. It is a story, in part, about our predisposed biases. I mean, the narrative literally sets this up. Characters around Weasel say things about him without him being able to have a say. Because he's a Weasel. Then, our characters make judgments based on what they believe and what they've heard from secondhand sources over what they actually see. Even when Weasel is his most violent (taking down Circe in episode 3), he does it to protect his teammates, and he doesn't actually kill her. In his backstory, characters make rash decisions based on their misinformed judgments in hopes of "protecting the kids," when all they are actually doing is harming them. They get 8 kids killed all because Weasel is a little freaky.

Then there's the cops themselves. It so masterfully uses showing rather than telling. The most it tells us is of the trail at the start, and again, this is moreso used as setup, playing into our dispositions. However, when it is time to actually depict the injustices, it shuts the fuck up. It doesn't just say that cops are bad with a couple of clear shitheads and moves on. It shows how cops are bad. Their only answer to this situation is violence. They don't actually serve their community, in this instance the children stuck in the fire, their only answer is to start shooting things. Because they have no other answer than state sanctioned violence. And they did this all with an episode about FUCKING WEASEL!

Now, imagine what they can do with Superman. It doesn't even have to be political, like these previous examples. However, to me, this shows that he can do what, to me, some of the best storytellers do. They weave every element of their story together with deliberate choices that strengthen each other. If anything, more than any well edited trailer, it is that that excites me about everything James is working on. Of course, he is doing this with a team, but James is the type to surround himself with smart people who understand these things inside and out. That one David Corenswet quote about the shorts proves that to me in shades. That's what gives me hope about these works. That they will be movies and shows that mean things. Which seems like a low bar, but hey, so many fail at it that it's kind of impressive.

#creature commandos #weasel #spoilers #sorry this gets a bit heavy #Given the nature of the analysis it covers a lot #this is what I wanted out of the trailer by the way #I was like “Oh no they're gonna make me care about WEASEL!”#and they did.

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