#fires for wusses anyways

[dollysdarlings]

──── STICKY SITUATIONS

spider-man! ethan landry x reader

#synopsis: he enters the wrong dorm and allows you to patch him up, you think spider-mans a wuss, he makes this a weekly affair

#contains: strangers to lovers, blood, stereotypical injuries

#authorsnote: still trying to gain my footing with my posts and my writing! also keep in mind that I'm not a nurse, and there will be inaccuracies. 2,851 wordcount

There's a soft thwip! by your window, a soft thump against the fire escape as padded feet lands on the cold, wet metal. The window slid open with ease, and a masked figure stumbled into the room, a hand on his abdomen, pressing down on a wound that was healing on its own, just rather slowly.

You jump at the sudden intrusion, grabbing whatever you can get your hands on and launching it in the intruder's direction, just to be met with a surprised yell.

"Whoa! Whoa, hey!" The man says as he dodges the assault of items thrown his way. Pillows, a desk lamp, notebooks, and pens.

Before you can throw anything else, a web is shot toward you, snagging your wrist and pinning it to the wall behind you. Your eyes widened in alarm as you finally took a minute to look at who it was that broke into your dorm room.

"...What the fuck?" You say your face contorting in surprise as you realize the one and only Spider-Man is standing in your dorm room. You go to call for your suitemate, but the masked hero quickly- as quick as he can, anyways- crosses the room and places a gloved hand over your mouth, raising a finger to his lips to signal you to be quiet.

You can hear your suitemate calling your name from their dorm, and you can hear Spider-Man whisper a "please" to you before moving his hand from your mouth.

"I'm- I'm fine! Just dropped some stuff!" You hollered back, watching as the hero's shoulders slumped in relief, a shaky sigh leaving him as he moved away from you, that's when you noticed the literal stab wound on his stomach, the slashes cutting through his suit.

"you're hurt..." You say quietly, brows furrowing as you watch him move, slowly, towards the window again.

"Uh-- No, I'm not." He responds, strain clear in his voice, it sounds like he's forcing his voice to be deeper than it is.

"I have eyes, I can see that you're- hey wait! I can help!" You move to stretch your body closer to your desk, reaching for a pair of scissors to cut yourself free from his web.

You can hear him curse under his breath as he doubles over in pain, you focus on cutting yourself free as you speak again.

"I'm trained in first aid, just- just stay here. I promise I won't tell anyone." You rub at your wrist before moving over to the window and sliding it shut before moving to dig for your first aid kit.

He stood in his spot for a few moments before he sighed, and moved to sit down on your bed, a groan leaving him, his body sore from exhaustion. "Please make it quick."

"Got somewhere to be?" You asked him sarcastically, kneeling beside him to get a closer look at his injury.

"Anywhere but here." He responds through a hiss.

"Ah." You respond as you take your scissors and cut part of his suit, making him protest, which you quickly interjected with a quick "Be quiet."

You clean the blood from his skin, eyes squinting at the mere flesh wound on his skin. "All this fuss over a scratch... really?" He winced at your words, before shaking his head.

"It wasn't a scratch earlier." he groaned, hanging his head low in shame.

You snicker in response, nodding your head as you bandage the, admittedly large, scratch anyways. "Oh, I'm sure."

"Well, whatever it was, it's good now." You say with a small smile, walking him back to the window and sliding it open for him.

"Yeah..." He says awkwardly, lingering on your fire escape for a moment.

"Thanks." He says softly, to which you respond with a small smile and a nod of your head.

You're sat at your desk, studying for some final, the clock reading 2:30 in the morning. You're interrupted by a knock on your window, you ignore it, just to hear it again, more intensely this time, hurried and loud.

You raise from your seat, peering through the window, raising your hand in a questioning motion at the sight of the masked hero outside of your window again, just about a week after he'd stumbled inside of your room the first time.

He motioned for you to open the window, hurrying you to let him inside. "Open up!"

"What are you-" You're cut off by him nearly slipping on his blood as he hurls himself through the window. You have to grab onto him to keep him from hitting the floor.

You both stumble further into the room, where you gently set him down in the middle of your dorm room where your eyes run over him in a panic, landing on the hand he has pressed to his stomach.

You move his hand to assess the damage- your shoulders tensing at the sight. "Rough night?" You ask as you rush to grab your first aid kit.

"You think?" He responds sarcastically through his teeth, squirming as he groans, pressing his hand to his wound again to try and stop the bleeding.

You stumbled back over to him, kneeling beside him as you grabbed the medical supplies you needed, you moved his hand instead replacing it with a layer of gauze, pressing down on his wound to try and stop the bleeding.

"Talk to me," you tell him. "What happened?"

"I was shot."

"No shit, what happened."

This earns a huff that sounds suspiciously like a snicker from him before he groans again at the feeling of your hands pressing the gauze against his wound.

"Just some thugs." It didn't feel like just some thugs, but who were you to judge and call him out on it? You instead focus on his wound. You had to suture him up.

You slowly removed the gauze from the wound, brows raising in surprise at the sight of the wound no longer bleeding, it looked as if the wound was healing itself from the inside. It leaves you baffled, but you quickly shake your head, clearing the thoughts from your head as you grab the needle. You still had to suture him up, you couldn't afford to get distracted now.

You'd never actually sutured another living person before, just the fake, practice skin your program had given you, but he'd come to you for help, the masked hero had come to you for this, you couldn't just let him down.

"Why'd you come here?" You can't help but ask, offering some kind of distraction to him, while also searching for answers from him as you thread the needle through his skin.

He groans at the feeling, gritting his teeth. "I forgot my keys."

"So, you come to a total stranger instead?"

"You said you were first aid certified." He groans before he can say another word, squeezing his eyes shut beneath his mask, the whites of his mask squinting from the action.

"But I've never had to actually use my training before." You mumbled to yourself, making him turn his head towards you in a panic as you tied the first suture, the whites of the eyes on his mask widening. "What?!"

"I know what I'm doing!" You respond, defensively as you thread the needle through his skin again, taking a deep breath to keep yourself steady.

Like clockwork, he shows up the following week. The hero lingers for a bit on your fire escape, simply watching you as you work at your desk, his head tilting in interest.

Ethan wasn't gravely injured this time around, only mildly inconvenienced by a gash on his arm, so he gave himself a moment to properly look at you, almost studying you while you stayed blissfully unaware of his staring.

With a grin on his lips beneath the mask, he knocks on the window to get your attention. Waving at you as you turned to face him with your brows stitched, a dramatic pout on your lips as you opened the window for him.

"Can't you take care of yourself?" You sassed, a hand on your hip as you leaned against the windowsill, the ghost of a smile on your lips.

"Why would I do that when you're so good to me, doc?" His tone was teasing as he moved to take his spot on your bed as you moved to grab your first aid kit.

"You're more like a damsel in distress than a hero," you grumbled as you grabbed the antiseptic wipes from the box.

"I don't see you turning me away," he says, a sly smile on his lips beneath the mask.

You didn't respond, instead shaking your head with a soft smile on your face as you examined his arm, the tear in his suit giving you ample space to work with. You silently cleaned the grime from the gash on his arm, focusing on his injury instead of his smart-ass attitude.

Ethan however takes this time to study you again, eyes following the gentle movements of your hands, taking in the way your brows furrowed in concentration, the way your hands moved in such a steady confidence, like you've done this a hundred times before, like you hadn't admitted to never using your training before just a week prior.

"Why do you help me?" The masked hero asks you quietly, his voice barely above a whisper.

You stay silent for a moment, pausing in your movement as you look up at him, and for a moment, you think back on the week prior.

"Why do you put yourself in danger? Can't you just leave this stuff to the police?" You asked him, threading the needle through his skin after a steadying breath. He doesn't respond right away, instead, he takes in a stuttering breath at the feeling of the needle and thread sliding through his skin. "I... I couldn't forgive myself." "What?" "I couldn't forgive myself if I sat around and did nothing when I have these... gifts. When I realized I could use my new powers for good, that I could help people and really make a difference, I knew I couldn't just sit around and do nothing." He says through gritted teeth, making you go silent.

"I couldn't just sit around and do nothing." You echoed, offering him a small smile.

"I took that training course, so I'd be prepared for emergencies, because... what if someone needs help? I couldn't forgive myself if I just sat around uselessly and did nothing." You murmured as you turned your attention back to his wound, cutting part of his suit to fit the bandage over the gash.

Ethan can't help but stare at you as you echo his own words back to him- more or less. You may not have been a vigilante like himself, but you were a hero in your own right.

You bravely took on his injuries, just for the sake of helping someone in need, and he can't help but admire such a selfless act, his expression softening under the mask.

"Thank you." He says softly.

"... of course."

He starts to show up more consistently after that, showing up two to three times a week, with injuries ranging from cuts to bruises, to nothing at all, simply seeking out your company.

Currently, you were sitting on your fire escape, the masked hero beside you, churros in both of your hands. You turn your head to face him, eyes sweeping over him. He had his mask pulled up to reveal the bottom half of his face so he could eat the churro he'd brought.

"You know," He says, a sly smile on his lips. "it's rude to stare"

You roll your eyes, turning away from him with a huff, your cheeks turning a rosy shade of pink as you take a bite out of your churro, turning your attention towards the city lights instead, ignoring his presence.

"oh, come on." He murmurs, you can see his smile growing from the corner of your eye.

"Don't be like that, I brought you churros, you can't ignore me." His hand inched closer to yours that sat on the fire escape.

You don't respond, keeping your attention on the city lights. His hand inches toward yours, his gloved fingers brushing against yours before he bravely links his pinky with yours.

You turn your head to face him, a soft smile on your face. His head tilts a bit to the side, his smile widening as he leans towards you. "There you are."

You mimic his head tilt, clearly unimpressed with his sudden softness. "Why are you here, anyways? You're clearly doing just fine."

"Can't a guy just enjoy your company, doc?"

"Sure, Spidey."

He grins at your words, at your easy acceptance of his words. he opens his mouth to speak again, but he pauses, and simply decides to turn his attention back to the city lights, eating his churro in silence.

"What's it like?"

Your question catches him off guard, and he turns his attention towards you, the whites of his masks eyes narrowing in confusion.

"Being Spider-man, I mean." 'what's it like doing things that matter?' You almost dare to ask.

He stops, his head tilting back against the cold brick of your dorm building. He takes a moment to really think about it, a soft hum leaving him.

"It's... freeing." He says after a moment of silence.

"Don't get me wrong, going out there and doing what I do, knowing the risks, it's terrifying. But without the mask, I'm nobody. I'm just some... some shy, dorky guy. But with the mask on, I can be anybody I want to be."

You're quiet as you listen, lowering your churro as you give him your full attention, your eyes softening at his words.

"It makes me feel more confident in myself, it makes me feel complete. With the mask... I can do anything. Without it, I'm nothing."

He turns his head to face you, a heavy silence hangs between you two for a moment. You lean in closer to him, mouth opening to speak, but you hesitate. You can't help but frown a bit. Did he always rely on his alter ego so much?

"Spidey..." You don't know what to say.

"I know, I know. You don't have to say it."

"No." You immediately interject, dropping your churro on the fire escape to instead reach out to him, hand meeting his bicep, as if you're scared he'll leave. You feel him freeze, muscles tensing underneath your hand, before he relaxes, leaning into your touch.

"You're more than just the mask." You murmured, your brows furrowed as your eyes softened.

"You don't even know me." He immediately tries to dismiss her words with a scoff, pulling his arm out of your grip, and unlinking your pinky fingers as he abruptly stands from his spot. You followed.

"I don't need to know your identity to know you're not just nothing."

"Oh, what do you know." he scoffed, pulling his mask the rest of the way down.

"I know you're funny." You say quietly, it makes him pause.

"And I know you're a pain in the ass, showing up at my window every week like you know me."

"I know you have a nice laugh, and that I like your smile." you continued to list off, taking a step towards him. He follows.

"I know I like your attitude, and your sass, even if you won't admit how much of a diva you can be. And I know you're a big wuss."

He softly calls out your name, his hands reaching for yours, gently linking your hands as you continue to speak.

"And I know you're more than nothing, because..."

"Because...?" He echos softly, pulling you closer by your hands.

He suddenly feels like he can't breathe, his free hand moves up to raise his mask halfway up his face again, letting himself take in deep breaths as he waits for you to continue, his heart hammering in his chest.

"Because you're everything."

He lets out a shaky breath at your words, his bottom lip trembling as he steps closer to you. You tug him closer, and his free hand finds the back of your neck, tangling in your hair. He takes a leap of faith, and tugs you closer, leaning into your personal space further.

You can feel his breath on your lips as he exhales slowly.

"You're everything to me," he whispers.

"Sure, Spidey." You can't help but smile, a breathless laugh leaving you.

He grins at the sound, a laugh of his own bubbling out of him. He shook his head his head, his shoulders sagging in relief as he pulled you impossibly closer.

"Can I...?" he hesitates, his thumb brushing over your bottom lip.

"I think that's the first time you've ever properly asked anything of me."

"Nevermind."

You let out a soft laugh at his scoff, your hands finding the sides of his face and pulling him into a kiss.

[bamsara]

Question!

I want to draw some OC x Sun/Moon, but I'm kind of scared of how people might take it. I know a lot of people do like Y/Ns but I've got this character I really like and made specifically for the DA, but I know how... iffy some people can be with self inserts.

Does it kinda feel the same when you do Y/N x DA or is different? You think it's ok to have people ship their OCs with the DA? I'm asking this cause I'm a worry wuss and just need some outside confirmation. @-@

Cringe is a weapon used by the insecure to make people feel as miserable and boxed in as they are. Anyway go fucking sicko mode be nerdy and be self indulgent, the world is burning and the moment you get that 'no one cares' optimism it becomes a lot brighter and it's not because of the fires

Plus there's a whole community of people with OCs and self sonas sharing love for a piece of media or a character, you're not alone in wanting to do something enjoyable plus there are tons. TONS of ocs x dca already. Go be free have fun set something on fire

[penofwildfire]

HAND OVER YOUR RAY AND WU FRIENDSHIP (OR ROMANTIC) HEADCANONS. /nf

OOH ah dang idk if I have any on hand one sec ummmmm yeah shit idk they were just besties for a long time (comparatively at least, since Wu's so old), they hung out and went on adventures all the time, Garmadon was sometimes there (all this is basically canon lol it's just Kai: Ninja of Fire stuff), Wu always had a lil bit of a crush on him but he's such a wuss about admitting his feelings (see: Misako) and Garmadon actually got to him first (he had a habit of doing that with Wu's friends, it pissed Wu off). Wu was heartbroken when Ray told him not to come near his kids, he was actually really angry about it, cuz fuck man it's not his fault that danger seems to follow him everywhere, but he was careful not to react badly in front of Ray because he didn't want to completely ruin their friendship.

Ray and Maya's disappearance/supposed death took a massive toll on him, and that was not long after he'd accidentally sent his brother to the Underworld so he was already in a terrible state of mind, no wonder he aged so much in such a short period of time.

He had a lot of fun with Ray when he was at the Monastery during Seabound, it was the first time he properly got to hang out with his best friend in like a couple decades, it was great.

Anyway yeah I don't have anything particularly special or insightful to say about them I just think they're silly

[boosmidnighthour]

Uh, happy pride month, by the way! I wish I was a faster writer or just planned things in advance; I don't have any fics that celebrate the month.

Instead, have another WIP before the month ends.

Fandom: Ninjago Working Title: Possession/Disbelief (definitely needs a different name whenever I actually post it) Rating: General

◇◇◇

Cole sighed as he made it over the last ledge. It felt good to be solid again. The gravel and dirt felt almost heavenly against his scraped palms. He had missed it all too much. He should really take up rock climbing again-

“Ugh, finally!” Jay started from where he was with his dragon. “Y'know, I was supposed to tag along with you, not the other way around…”

“What? I had to climb the mountain properly this time. It felt almost disrespectful not to,” he argued with a roll of his eyes, lifting himself up the rest of the way and dusting his hands off. “Plus, now that I'm no longer a ghost, I have to treat my body right.”

“You nearly ate an entire cake as soon as Zane pulled it out of the oven.”

“Treating my body right includes indulging in my ignored sweet tooth. And it smelled delicious; if Zane had brought anything else out, I would've eaten it just the same. His cooking is near godly.”

“Whatever you say, man,” he huffed. Then he clapped to get them both back on track. “Anyway, you're here to see into your future. Get to it. It's getting dark, and when it gets dark, it gets cold. I'd prefer to be in bed after a nice hot meal before that happens-”

“With the fire master.”

“What?”

“You'd ‘prefer to be in bed after a nice hot meal’... with the fire master,” Cole snickered, watching as Jay's cheeks turned bright red. “That's a pretty important detail to skip over-”

“Stop stalling and go look before I drag you back down this mountain,” he growled irritably, petting at Wisp's snout. If the dragon hadn't been there, it wouldn't have been as threatening.

“Okay, okay. I'm moving.” So what if he was still a bit of a wuss around dragons?

Cole made his way to the entrance, more hesitantly than he would have liked to admit. The crack in the earth was daunting, looming over him as if to scare him off. He wondered if he actually wanted to know the answer. How far into the future would this take him? What if it was the day before he died? What if it didn't show any future for him at all? What if-

Okay, he had to stop before he thought himself into a trap.

After having paused, he continued forward into the tunnel, feeling along the walls to keep himself steady and to push through his growing nerves. Maybe this was a waste of time, but… now that he was human again, he wanted to see if it had changed at all. As the walls turned to ice and his breath began to fog, he saw the light of the sky reflecting back to him.

The labyrinth, while absolutely freezing and without much else to look at, had beautifully smooth ice. Even with the people that have come and gone, it was still spotless. When the light shone on it at just the right angle, the ice looked like crystals, sparkling like glitter. He tried to remember if Zane had commented on it the first time they'd come here.

Before he looked at himself on any of the walls, he took a deep breath. “Okay, ice… show me something new,” he whispered in the quiet of the cavern. Then he steeled himself and looked towards his reflection.

For a moment, it didn't show him anything, and his heart sank. Maybe this had been a waste of a trip… Then there was a wavering image of… someone walking towards him. It seemed like the ice couldn't decide what to show him, the image wavering indecisively, and it only made it more clear to him that he should take whatever this thing told him with a huge grain of salt.

Finally, the image of this future Cole became clear, and it stood right before him. He looked… well, older, obviously. Maybe a good thirty or forty years ahead. He was nearly the spitting image of his father, which he didn't know how to feel about. A full beard had grown on his face, hair even longer in his bun than now, hairs growing gray with age. There were wrinkles at the corners of his eyes, his eyebags much more prominent, some smile lines at the corners of his mouth and nose. He looked happier than he ever had been.

Surprisingly, though, he wasn't wearing the ninja gi. Everyone else's reflections had, from what he could remember, but… why wasn't his? Instead, he wore some comfortable attire, looking as if he was enjoying a day off from work. He seemed to have gained a few scars, but they all looked rather old. His fit yet pudgy torso had thickened up a bit, but he still looked quite strong… did he still have his super strength? He couldn't tell. His hands looked even more calloused than they do now, though. He squinted more at his fingers, seeing something glint on one of them. He froze.

Was that… No, there's just no way. Who the hell would-

The Cole in his reflection turned away from him and gestured for someone to join him, and he suddenly felt like this was all too much. It was lying to him. He couldn't look away.

Zane made his way over to stand beside him, holding a small child in his arms, a teen walking just behind him. The nindroid was sporting a new skin, one as aged as he was. It was similar to how he had looked when they had first met, skin just as dark as he remembered. He still wore his ninja garbs, but he was also wearing a ring on his finger. There's no way Zane would wear a ring while still being a ninja; it was too easy to lose, it would be uncomfortable to wear while fighting, and if the press saw it, forget living any semblance of a peaceful life.

He couldn't help but yearn for such a lie.

There was no way any of this was real, but he wanted it to be. Maybe add a cat or two, and that would be the dream… No. No, no, no- it wasn't real! It was just the reflection telling him his dream life; it was just his brain projecting his hopes into the ice- none of that was possible. Not for him.

He tore himself away from the walls of ice and rushed out, his mind screaming at him to forget such scarring images.

◇◇◇

Only a snippet for y'all. I've gotten much farther on it than just this, but still have a long way to go. Yes, this has to do with that one episode where they saw their future in the ice or whatever. I haven't watched that episode (or that season) in a very long time, and I don't feel like going back to watch it, so we're gonna deal with some flawed memory and inaccuracy.

Yes, I did look up the dragon's names and ended up finding some fan-made ones.

Happy Pride Month!

[velmashaircut]

After I finished watching season two of squid games and I searched up what other people thought of this season, and what I saw… When people said media literacy was dying, I thought they were being dramatic. I believe them now. The amount of misinterpretations and misinformation I saw about the most straight forward scenes was mind boggling, it was like some people were watching this show with their eyes closed.

Anyhow, I liked this seasons players more than last seasons, not that last seasons was bad by any means, but the new players are more compelling and interesting to me. This season was more stressful to watch as well, I was constantly worrying my favourite characters would die…Mingle especially had me on the edge of my seat. If I was playing those games I would die of fear.

Players 388, 120, 390 were my favourite, especially 388. I was really worried he wouldn’t survive Mingle or the final episode, and although I'm happy he did live, I’m now praying that'll he’ll survive the final season, but I don't have a lot of hope for that unfortunately.

He should be given some more slack as well. Being outnumbered and having the Frontman in on their plans, the players were never going to succeed with the riot, so Dae-Ho not returning with the ammo ultimately wouldn't have helped; him failing to do so actually saved himself and 120. People getting mad at him over this really annoys me.

I don’t think he was faking being a former marine either, player 390 said he could tell he was an ex marine straightaway, and he wasn’t even referring to his tattoo when he said that, although he might have been a lie. Dae-Ho didn’t hesitate to tell him his class number and he sees genuine to me.

SK has mandatory military service so Dae-Ho dodging recruitment is hard to believe. I use to think he never saw any combat and was a cook or something along those lines, but the show makes an emphasis on the sounds of gunfire in his mind after collecting magazines. He's either been in the line or fire or witnessed something messed up happen in the past. If not, perhaps the marine experience in general gave him PTSD? The training may have been too gruelling for him, or he faced hazing/ abuse, which isn't unheard of. In the end, he might have been honourably discharged but still clings onto his time in the marines as to him and his father, it's what makes him manly and great.

It’s concerning some viewers seem to think veterans or ex military may not want to jump at the opportunity to kill people, so Dae-Ho gets written off as a liar because of this. He's a sensitive guy, when people suddenly move or shout he freaks out, when people get killed, he's noticeably more jumpy than the other players. He covers his eyes and ears repeatedly throughout the season because of this. His dad probably gave him a hard time due to being the only son, and whatever abuse he endured because of this, combined with his time in the marines most likely explains why he clammed up, and why he assumed player 120 would hurt him for failing to return. Just because he puts on a manly, fearless front to appease others and wasn't a killing machine in a gunfight, it doesn't make him a wuss or bad person people are trying to portray him to be.

Despite his obvious fears, he still helps anyway he can; he joins the riot, volunteers to collect the magazines (probably since it gets him away from the chaos momentarily), and even though he was scared and out of sorts, he still intended to return until the panic took over. He helps with the groups morale and looks after player 222 throughout the games. Even if it turns out he was lying about the marines, I don't think that makes him a bad or cowardly person as his actions in the Squid Games show he's admirable and kind.

I just hope he has an easier time in season three, seeming him panic was really sad and I hope he manages to make it out of the games alive. I do wonder how he incurred his debt; he doesn't seem like the type to have huge gambling debt, maybe he struggled to find employment after the marines, which triggered a downward spiral in him?

[falciesystemessays]

it is hard to capture pain in video games.

this is one of the things i ended up thinking about a lot in the hospital over the past few days. i had been going through a lot of stomach pain, and it turns out it wasn't overeating, that i had to get my gallbladder removed. i am finally back home laying in bed, trying desperately to find a good position that will kill neither my back nor my abdomen. it's not going great, but i'm too much of a wuss to use the opiate i was prescribed, so now i am typing this post in a kind of terrible state. the people sending their love and good vibes and best wishes are nothing to me, no amount of good energy will cure this abdominal pain, no amount of thoughts and prayers will take away my shortness of breath. i normally have better writing than this, but you don't deserve better writing from me right now. i don't owe you that.

so, look, i spent most of this time playing a shitton of fire emblem fates and some rhythm heaven megamix, i have been desperately trying to distract myself from the everything of this situation. and of course, as a game designer, i try to think of how to turn this into a teachable moment for my design work. but it's not fuckin easy, is it? it's hard to sell someone on a game that will physically hurt them without being a very real health risk, and it's hard to emotionally capture that sense of viscerality using game mechanics alone. tell me in the replies games that come close! but genuinely no amount of heartbreak or dread or panic in a game comes close to the sheer horribility of being in actual godawful pain, for days on end.

in my past, i actually worked on a game that tried to be about pain. it's a very different project now, and no longer in my hands, but i ended up getting its protagonist, Fang, in my head. fang's gimmick is Blood Aura, essentially an attunement to pain that gives her greater strength the lower her health is at. in a sense, it kinda captures the sense of letting yourself get harmed on purpose because that's when you feel the most alive. it makes you put yourself at risk so that you can lash out in spades. but it's all very calculated, and more to the point, it's not making you the player experience pain.

the thing i've realized about games, rpg's especially, is that you are not your player characters. the player character acts as a surrogate for you, essentially as an arm for your will, but you do not become the character as you play. the reason i emphasize rpg's is due to the nature of a party-based game. you don't play as marth in fire emblem shadow dragon, you do not play as tidus in final fantasy x. but you also, crucially, do not embody any of these characters individually as you control them. you play as the collective, the group, the dynamic itself. you play as a collective id, or perhaps, an unspoken sense of team play. games like into the breach and xcom compensate for this by simply making you an offscreen commander. it's a practical solution, and it carries me to my next point.

shortly after the surgery, i started asking various people - my mom, my friends, my beloved - how they personally felt seeing me go through this. i realized that while you can't easily capture my kind of visceral pain as a player character, you can capture the feeling of knowing someone going through it. perhaps a party member in an rpg could fall ill, and you as a commander would have to marinate in that reality. some were worried, some sympathized but knew it was gonna be alright, my beloved was terrified, and my mom talked about wanting desperately to know, and to do something. that's something that can all be done in a game form.

so here's my idea. at one point in a fairly long rpg, one of your characters gets sick, or needs some kind of operation, or something like that. this isn't foreshadowed, medical peril so often isn't, but you have to deal with it anyway. this character, who may have been vital to your team composition or may have been just another unit, is now completely unable to do any of the things you expect. you're told this won't be permanent, probably, but recovery will be a very slow process as they slowly, slowly drift back into normalcy. during this process, you have several opportunities to check in on them, for all the good that'll do. maybe it'll do something, maybe it won't. you don't know, and you don't know how successful or quick this recovery will be. you can choose to process this however you like.

this will of course run into some issues. something i've noticed playing fire emblem is a tendency i and others have to care less about characters of less tactical use to us. whether i let a unit die on classic mode hinges on whether i can be bothered to reset. so there is, always, a possibility that a gamer could see this thing and be like "wow, now this fucker is useless to me, so i don't give a shit." and, if they know this is coming, they might not bother to level up the character because it'd just be a waste of exp. not that i even like exp systems to begin with, and i highly encourage you to ask me my thoughts on exp systems because i am running purely on spite at this point.

maybe what games ultimately need is to be willing to actually physically punish the player. we have game-linked vibrators after all, why not shift the pleasure into pain? but trying to actually sell this game would mean it only appeals to masochists, and while i respect them deeply, they are not my target audience. i want the player i inflict pain upon to hate every moment of it, just as i hate every moment of being in this goddamn bed waiting for things to finally recover. apparently it'll take about six weeks. awesome, right? maybe i finally will go on that damn opioid. i am on three hours of sleep, and before the surgery i had barely eaten anything for two days. this past week has been nothing but pain, distractions from the pain, and eventual relief from the pain. fuck i hate this.

[skye-huntress]

The Witch from Mercury Season 2 Reaction

Episode 20: “The End of Hope”

Ominous title

Let’s see. Norea is ready to explode, Miorine is freaking out, Guel seems hellbent on taking down Shaddiq, and Grassley Squad is making their move. Shaddiq again seems to be laying much of the blame on Guel, even though this tragedy happened as he was leaving.

Who knew Rouji of all people had mastered the art of interrogation? Or is Martin just that much of a wuss?

Who knew Lilique could get mad?!

So Suletta has finally gone back to class, but now she’s being harassed as well. Now that she is no longer the Holder and no longer Aerial’s pilot, she’s naturally an easier target.

Now Petra is being nice to Suletta. Guess saving her boyfriend scored her some points.

Guel may be learning to be a better person, but he should learn to be smarter.

Shaddiq seems out for blood now

They’ve released a pissed off witch from the basement and she’s fixing to go on a rampage. The ball is in your court, Number 5.

Looks like Chuchu’s Demi-Trainer is out for the count. They don’t have any mobile suits left.

Petra, stop talking! You’re waving so many death flags right now with the things you’re saying! She’s going to die right after I found a reason to like her, isn’t she?

If Shaddiq is openly admitting his crimes on their comms, I doubt he plans on leaving Guel or anyone else alive.

Look, Guel, you need to understand your father was a grade-A a-hole. You could have a lengthy debate over who is a worse person between him and Shaddiq.

Now Lauda knows Guel killed their father. Will either of them live long enough for that to matter?

Not the Greenhouse! Oh, that bitch done it, now!

Now Felsi is in the firing line! What am I saying? Of course, she is. Any pilots with working mobile suits with the guts to be out there is gonna be. Too bad that even if they didn’t have the school’s limiter, they’d still be hopelessly outmatched.

When Secelia decides its time to move the plot along, she delivers. A brand new mobile suit for Chuchu and the timely return of her traitorous mechanic.

Since when did Pompom Head become a thing? That’s the second person to call her that

It’s not like I don’t get Shaddiq. He is a demon of the Benerit Group’s making. I can’t even say with confidence that in his position I wouldn’t have made similar choices. He’s still crossed a line, and got innocents among both Spacians and Earthians killed. He’s also not as clever as he thinks he is, ready to blame Guel for interfering in his plans when he is the one committing crimes.

Did Guel just outsmart Shaddiq and Sabina? And he disabled their suits without killing them. Not only was that impressive, this might be his first real win in the entire show. Unfortunately it came at the cost of Norea going on a rampage but there was a solid chance it could have happened, anyway.

I begrudgingly give points to Number 5 for talking Norea down. Unfortunately, that win is short lived. Serious though, who was the dumbass who thought it was a good idea to fire on them after they stopped rampaging? And if you were going to do that, why only take out one of them when the other as far as they know is equally dangerous?

Back to Suletta, finally. Aaaaaand, yep. About what I expect. Oh , and there’s the title card!

That is such a Suletta thing to do, honestly. She used to do this kind of thing back on Mercury, too, so really, she’s falling back on what she knows. I’m also genuinely surprised that Earth House hasn’t suffered any casualties, though they’re probably going to get blamed for this, too.

[thehufflepuff02]

Chapter 4| A Turn for the Worse

Jake sat there with Neytiri in his arms, enjoying the comfortable silence that surrounded them. Jake rubbed Neytiri’s back with his free hand as she slept. It was a peaceful night, the moon shone bright, casting a beautiful light on the couple. Jake admired the stars, a soft smile gracing his face.

Grace and Mo’at had offered to watch the kids for the night under the condition that they don’t surprise anyone with more of them. Him and Neytiri were quick to assure them that won’t be happening. Right now anyway.

Jake’s eye caught something in the night sky, bring him out of his thoughts.

A new star in the night.

It was a ship accelerating . Heading straight for Pandora.

“Baby, wake up.” Jake asked Neytiri through his panic.

She sat up confused, still half asleep. “What ma Jake.”

Jake silently raised his had, pointing towards the ship, light years away.

“What the hell do you mean humans are coming back?” Grace whispered, her voice full of panic. Jake had woken both Grace and Mo’at up from their slumber the second they had made it back home, to the high camp.

“I mean what I said Grace, Skypeople are on their way back to Pandora.” Jake answered.

“He is right, I saw it as well. " Neytiri confirmed.

“But why must they come back?” Mo’at inquired.

“Ma, what’s going on?” Kiri asked, stepping out of the hut. The concerned whispers must have woken her.

“Nothing, sweetheart. Go back to bed.” Grace replied Quickly, nudging her gently.

“What is all the noise.” Little Tuk asked, her too, now awake.

“I don’t know why I spent all that time putting you all to bed if you all just decided to wake up less than three hours later.” Grace muttered.

“Come here, Tuk. " Neytiri said, her arms open for the young Na’vi to run into. Neytiri picked Tuk up in one swift movement, her daughter now rested her head on her shoulder.

Both Lo’ak and Neteyam walked out, visibly confused to why everyone was up. “Dad what’s wrong?” Neteyam asked.

Jake let out a long breath, dragging his hand down his face. “Lo’ak go wake up Norm, Trudy and Spider I’ll tell everyone together.”

One year later…

Jake flew over the trees of Pandora on his Ikran, Bob, the rest of the war party right behind him. Trudy drove her Samson above them, ready to help. They flew straight for the maglev that was without a doubt, bringing supplies to a sky people base.

“Ground team go!” Jake directed through the intercom.

Na’vi came out from the bushes, equipped with weapons and riding dire horse. As the Maglev grew closer, they grew angrier. This was their land and the sky people were destroying it. The Omaticaya and every other Na’vi for that matter had every right to be mad.

They threw grenades at the tracks. Within seconds they exploded, destroying the bridge. The Maglev was thrown off track and crashed, the different compartments flew in every direction, each one catching fire as they hit the ground. The whole area was engulfed in flames and smoke.

Jake dove down lower aiming his gun at one of the enemy Samsons. He tightened his grip on his gun and fired, taking down the ship. Neytiri did the same with the one besides him, only she did it with a bow and arrow. Jake found it much more impressing. They continued until all the enemy ships were destroyed.

Jake landed finally, joining the rest of the team. They began to raid the Maglev, stealing all of the weaponry inside. “let’s go people, let’s go.” Jake urged. The military would be here soon.

Above them Neteyam and Lo’ak watched for the sky people.

“bro, we have got to get down there.” Lo’ak said, turning towards his older brother. Neteyam could already see the excitement growing on his face at the though of helping with a raid.

“No way! Dad will skin us!” Neteyam argued, knowing it was no use.

“Come on. Don’t be a wuss.” Lo’ak told Neteyam, diving down to the ground.

“Lo’ak, get back here you….” Neteyam let out a groan of frustration. He too dove down towards the ground.

They could here Norm as they landed, instructing the war party. “We’re taking the mags, the RPGs, the stingers.”

“Bro, let’s go. Come on!”

“Lo’ak!” Neteyam tried again. It was no use, his brother was already getting off his Ikran and running right into the raid.

“Okay let’s go!”Lo’ak shouted.

“Take these weapons. Here boy go.” Lo’ak was handed a weapon. Neteyam was almost positive he didn’t even know how to use it.

“Lo’ak!” His younger Brother ignored him, shouting battle cries.“You don’t even know how to use it”

“Dad taught me.” Lo’ak smirked.

“Gunship’s inbound! Fall back!” Neteyam heard his dad yell over the cheering Na’vi.

A huge ship flew towards the destroyed Maglev, shooting missiles at them. The sky felt like it was raining missiles, explosions and fire everywhere.

“Bro, come on!” Lo’ak yelled as he ran from the fire.

Neteyam was right behind him running but he wasn’t fast enough. A missile shot down behind them, instantly bursting into flames and throwing them off their feet.

“Lo’ak where are you?” Jake yelled, running in the direction where his two sons went. The fire was burning hot as ig grazed his arms. “Neteyam!”

He spotted Lo’ak. He was alive. it felt like a thousand pounds was lifted off his chest. “Easy, easy, you okay?” he asked,grabbing his sons shoulders.

“Yeah.”

“Where’s your brother?”

“That way.” Lo’ak told him, pointing left.

“Where is he?Where?” Jake asked, standing up. “get outta here! Go on!” he ordered.

Jake began to climb the ruins of the Maglev shouting his eldest sons name. His heart sunk when he saw a trail of blood staining the metal. "

“Oh,no, no, no,” he quickly jumped down. “oh, god.” Neteyam lay there unconscious.

He rolled him over.

“Dad?” Neteyam asked.

“What are you doing here boy! what the hell were you thinking!” Jake raved, once he knew Neteyam was alive.

“I’m s…I’m sorry.”

Jake draped his son over his shoulder, running towards his Ikran’

“I’m sorry, sir.” Neteyam apologized again.

[ashiscool10]

Never Apart

Chapter 2

Growing up you were inseparable from the sully kids, especially the oldest son Neteyam. Since Jake taught you all you know about the Na’vi you spent a lot of time with them. You and Neteyam never left each other’s side. He was always with you and you never minded. He was your best friend after all.

14 years went by since Norm found you and adopted you. You were a warrior and helped Jake with raids. You, Neteyam, and his younger brother Lo’ak were spotters. Flying high above everyone watching for aircraft. And then you heard him. “Bro, we have got to get down there.” Lo’ak says flying next to his brother. “No way! Dad will skin us!” Neteyam says, eyeing his brother. You fly up to the left of Lo’ak on your Ikran. “Yeah Lo’ak Jake will be angry and I'll get in trouble with my dad.” you say to him. Lo’a just rolls his eyes and says “Come on. Don't be a wuss.” as he starts flying down toward the battlefield. “Lo’ak! Get back here you, grrahh.” Neteyam yells in anger as he flies after his brother.

Great here we go, you thought as you went after them. While flying down you could hear you dad talking to the other Na’vi. You couldn't quite understand since you were focused on Lo’ak and Neteyam. You swallowed the guilt of you disobeying orders and went after the boys anyway. As you land next to the boys your Ikran lets out a roar and you hop off her, your long braids flowing through the air as your feet hit the ground. “Bro, let's go. Come on!” Lo’ak says as he starts running toward the other warriors. “Lo’ak!” Neteyam yells while chasing his brother. “Okay, let's go!” the younger brother says back. “Lo’ak wait!” you yell running after him. You finally catch up to the boys and you see Lo’ak holding a gun. “You don't even know how to use it skxawng.” Lo’ak puts the ammunition in the gun and cocks it. “Dad taught me,” he says confidently.

Then speak of the devil, Jake looked over, the war paint on his face being prominent in the sunlight, to see his two sons on the battlefield with their best friend; his youngest holding a gun. Just as he was about to go over there a gunship appeared and started firing. “Gunships inbound!” Jake says through his communicator to warn his people. They all scattered as explosions went off around them. “Get back to the Ikran!” you say running a full sprint over all the debris. “Bro, come on!” one of the boys yell, you weren't sure who since you were ahead of them. An explosion happened right behind the three of you that sent you flying in the air. You hit the ground, scratching your body on the metals and then everything went dark.

Jake find Lo’ak and asks if he was okay. When Lo’ak said yeah Jake asked for his brother and you. “Go, get out of here!” Jake says out of breath as he goes to look for you and Neteyam. “Neteyam!” Jake yells in a panic, jumping on top of a fallen gunship to get a better view. Then he sees him, “Oh no. Oh no, no no no no.” Is all Jake could say. “Dad?” Neteyam says in a daze. Jake turns him over to see if he had any injuries on his back. Jake lifts his head up by his neck. “What are you doing here boy! What the hell were you thinking!” Jake says angrily. “I'm sorry,” is all Neteyam said. “Can you walk?” Jake asks, helping his son to his feet. “Yes sir.” “Okay, go, go find your brother and get outta here.” Jake says, signaling him to run with his hand. Neteyam nods and goes back to his Ikran.

“Y/n! Y/n!” Jake yells scanning the area for you. He spots you and sees you are unconscious. “No, no, no.” He puts his head to your chest to see if you're breathing. He sighs when he hears your breathing. He carries you bridal style to his Ikran, making sure you’re not to fall. He finds his sons and mate then heads back to camp.

@itscheybaby there you go sweetheart hope you like it!

[chibskimuses]

With @wildwoof​ from here

Fingers twitch at his sides, eyebrows furrowing into deep wrinkles at the center of his forehead. The last situation he anticipated himself in, and yet knowing the level of competition that flowed through the vampire days ago, it also proves to be no surprise. Why the hell had it even mattered who the fuck bit him first anyways? He should've asked then, but now it hardly mattered.

A thing of the past. Chest rose and fell with each breath, ready for what's to come. His own canines hardly compared with the fangs of a beast of the night. A heat burning deep beneath his cheeks, yet he's no wuss about the matter either. Not a puppy who runs away with their tail between their legs, but a wolf that takes the blow and continues to stand up.

None-the-less, the moment those fangs suddenly sink into the side of his neck, eyelids shut tight with the groan pushing out between clenched teeth. Of course it damn hurt! At that moment, his hands move to grip upon Ritsu's upper arms, squeezing at the muscle. After a second, he slowly reopens his eyelids just a crack, enough to peer at the pitch black strands of hair.

"Oi, oi, it's not like I'm immune to pain, ya know, take it easy!" Koga squirms beneath the older. Though, it's almost as if his yapping landed upon deaf ears. The soft drag of the flat of tongue across the puncture wounds at the side of his neck elicits a shiver through his entire body. Heart pounds wildly within his chest. "Damn vampires..."

Each consecutive bite from them is answered with a soft grunt and gasp, traveling down along his neck and to his collarbone. By this point certain they must be able to hear the thumping of his heart, if not for the beading of blood at the puncture wounds, slicked up moments later by tongue. While painful, the way tongue grazes across the marks the younger of the Sakuma's leaves upon his flesh brings about a mixed sensation within him.

What the hell is this...?

Ritsu wasn’t the on to come across jealous unless it was his precious Maakun, his wife, his everything. But the last few days seeing Koga hang around other, his brother, anyone there wasn’t him. It had affected him enough that Knights had ask him at practice, not that they was usually the one to concern themselves for other problems.. Unless of course they could use it later on the battlefield 

Having Koga tracked down as a prey was really easy, the biggest obstacle was getting him alone. He didn’t need anyone watching them, he just wanted to mark him as the first and be in and out without every talking about it again. If he cleared his head he shouldn’t deal with this problem anymore

Mission complete, goal acquired when the first taste of metallic hits his taste buds. He should be satisfied, however with the grey haired voice in his ear. It felt like someone had set fire to his body, or forced him to stand in a sunbeam, the other problem was. This was addicting, one bite lead to another. Tongue tracing the marks and wounds he left behind.

Backing off enough to see his handy work, watching a soft spot where the blood trailed down, a finger came to chase it to spare the cloth the other was wearing to not be bloodied. Licking off the excessive on his fingers.

“You seemed rather excited, Corgi~ we both know you are stronger than me, so if you really didn’t like it you could had pushed me off. Seem like I will be owning you a favor, I can let you taste mine? The biggest problem is that if you drink vampire blood you will end up as an eternal servant~.”

Or something like that, to repay in a little ‘after care’ Ritsu leaned in and nuzzled his head up against the third year cheek. Something like a purr left him, he was happy and content, your move dog.

[thebisexualdogdad]

Something tells me modern!au Buggy who runs a haunted house (as per your last headcanon post) would be the type of owner to get into trouble not even necessarily for anything actually brutal but for like… low key stupid reasons because he is just so fucking devoted to make the most horrifying haunted house experience you can get. Stuff like “We were planning to have this mannequin on this chair actually be electrocuted but two days later we had to take it down because APPERANTLY that’s a “fire hazard” ugh” or “Thought it would be really effective to have actual maggots in this thing over here. Thought of putting something in like meat or something but Cabaji was all “Ooouuuh that’s against health regulations”… wuss.” Probably culminating into something that makes the local news like “Local haunted house owner faced with fines after its been discovered he kept 20 trained fruit bats in the attic for “ambiance” ” (None of the bats were harmed. Buggy goes on and on about how he actually ensured those flying rats weren’t being disturbed and how they got plenty of stuff to eat and how they had the best batty life they could want for. It’s not HIS fault those teens didn’t read the “Staff only” sign on the door and decided to just go up there anyways and got attacked by the startled animals. If anything HE should sue them for breaking into private property.)

Yes to all of this!!!

So when I was in elementary school I went to the ymca and I was part of the group that always decorated for thier family friendly haunted house and every year there was at least one instance where the lights would have to be turned on for some kindergartener who got too scared and needed to be escorted out so i can just imagine Buggy getting so mad every time one of the actors tells him to turn the lights on cause someone needs to get escorted out

"How about you don't go into a haunted house if you're gonna get scared and piss your pants you big babies!" He says as someone almost passes out in the room full of real snakes and spiders

[delphictrip]

i fucking hate being sick. like fuuuuck dude. idk i can start/swap a load of laundry and then im fucking winded whyyyyyyyy...

feel like a wuss for working half a day and going home because im just fucking TIRED and i dont feel like i can make it through the rest of the day. when i get my energy back and i get back to doing things at home i feel like a big fat faker. even though i literally slept the rest of my shift and didnt feel up to much.

and like i know i shouldnt go into work sick. "StaY hOmE iF yOuRe sICk" but i have like ten call in sick days a YEAR before i get a warning letter and its basically forgiven if u show up and report for duty and then go home because you're not feeling well, you take it as leave w/out pay and nobody gives you shit and youre not in danger of being fired.

anyways idk why im always sick. i was sick in september with covid. i had a sinus infection in january. my spouse got sick a couple weeks ago and now im sick with that.

i just get so fucking fatigued and winded and shit i hate being sick i hate being sick i hate being sick!!!!!!! coughcoughcoughsneezesleepeatrepeat

[tryan-a-bex]

I didn’t want to go. There had to be another way, and I was spending all my free time in the library trying to find it, but then they ran out of hero-types and figured, since I’d been working on the problem, they should send me.

They put a gun in my hand, taught me the basics about how to aim and fire (they didn’t think I’d need to deal with reloading), and sent me out. Honestly, I was quaking in my boots. How much was it going to hurt to be destroyed with extreme prejudice by a reality-bending god? I wasn’t brave, I just wanted to go home to a peaceful city instead of one that was being controlled by men fear-mongering about a vengeful god. I don’t really have any pain tolerance to speak of, that’s why I went into scribing instead of child-bearing, those mothers are way more badass than anyone gives them credit for.

Anyway, I found the god, it wasn’t hiding. It didn’t attack me, but I had a job and I wasn’t allowed to come home without doing it, so I reached around a tree, tried to stop my hand from shaking too badly, fired off a shot, and then closed my eyes and waited for the worst.

“Oh my god, I can’t believe you just shot me! Oh my god, it hurts! It hurts so much!”

What the actual hell? I peeked out from behind my tree. The god was sitting there crying, holding into its arm and trying to wipe tears away at the same time. Poor thing.

“It’s not that bad,” I said, coming out from behind the tree. “There’s no blood coming out from under your hand, so it must just be a scratch.”

“Do you think so? Could you take a look at it for me?” I swear, the god sounded like my friend Matt who’s as much of a wuss as I am. I went up to it and held out my hand.

It put its hand trustingly in mind and I took a look at the tear in its sleeve just above the elbow. Just a scratch, not even a bead of blood. I’ve had worse papercuts. Good thing I have such bad aim.

“It stings, doesn’t it?” I said sympathetically. The god nodded and covered it again with its other hand.

“Don’t worry, it’ll be fine again soon. And I promise not to hurt you anymore.”

“Really?” The poor thing sounded so plaintive.

“Were all those heroes really scary for you?” I asked.

“Oh, no, not really,” the god admitted, eyes downcast.

“But?” How could I be scary, and not those powerful heroes who were instantly destroyed? Wait, why was I still alive? “Why haven’t you destroyed me?”

The god looked up at me with pleading eyes. “I reflect those near me. I used to have devoted priests who I cared for, and they kept me kind. Then the vizier sent men to kill them all, but when I’m surrounded by evil men intent on killing, well. Let’s just say they didn’t last long. Nor did the heroes, with their thoughts of destruction. You were afraid of pain, and then filled with compassion, so I am too. I like myself much better this way. Thank you.”

I sat down. “Let’s talk.”

You've been sent out to defeat a powerful, reality bending god. All have died horrifically trying. And here you are in front of the crying god as they complain about how you just shot them.

[magic5ball]

Nature Trail to Hell Take II (Prologue)

Chapter 0: My Little Watterson

It all began when I was a little Wattling of five years old, and I'd accidentally wandered onto the wrong side of the tracks at Toys Are Us.

Or as we called it back then, the GIRL SECTION.

Mom had gone to the bathroom and made me promise to stay put, but my little kid brain wasn’t having it. Anyway, while I was there I found this one rainbow colored pony that was practically calling my name (figuratively speaking, of course: double A’s not included). My grubby little fingers hovered over the box for a moment, my mind unable to shake the feeling I was doing something seriously taboo. Probably how Eve felt before she bit that stupid apple. But what can I say? Those big ol’ horse eyes had me in a trance!

Though maybe I should have thought more, because just as my hands made contact , a wave of static electricity shuddered through my body so strong I froze a whole minute. Weird, but I didn’t think too much of it-

At least until I realized I wasn’t alone.

Right behind me was a girl ‘bout my age in a long white dress and black hair that flowed like a waterfall over her face. Wasn’t wearing any shoes, either, which made me jealous because Mom always made me wear these itchy sneakers whenever we went out.

And when I gazed into the one pale moon of an eye she had peeking out from behind that curtain of hair, you can bet your buttered beans I screamed like a wuss! The poor rainbow pegasus clattered to the floor, unable to so much as grunt from lack of batteries. 

“S-sorry!” She wailed, backing off. Which caught me off guard, because her voice was deeper than I expected. “I just wanted to look at the ponies!”

Our gazes met, and once I realized she wasn’t going to eat my soul, I asked

 “Do you know a lot about ponies?” Which was silly because she was a girl my age so of course she was an expert. My Momma didn’t raise no fool.

 “N-not really, but I like this one.” She said, picking Little Miss Rainbow Mane off the ground. “The hair colors are pretty.”

I breathed a sigh of relief at that. If she had said Pinkie Pie, we could never be friends. Of course, that lead to another problem.

“Well you can’t get this one.” I cried, snatching the box right out of her pale hands. “She’s mine!” Sounds stupid, especially since there were a dozen copies still on the shelf, but that one in particular just felt special.

But the girl just hung her head. “It’s okay. I don’t have money.”

“I don’t either, but I can always get Mom to-“

She sighed, slouching her shoulders. “I don’t have a Mom or a Dad. I don’t even remember how I got here.” And crazy as it sounds, I swear I saw her get just a little bit smaller.

Speaking of parents, that’s when Mom finally showed, clacking down the aisle in those high heels she was so proud she could run in.  

“WATTERSON J. TOSTIG! DO YOU KNOW HOW LONG MOMMY WAS-!”

Then she gave me the look.

You know what I mean by the look. The expression only a Mom can make where she still loves you but not necessarily right now, and you’re too young to really understand why. The kind of look that makes you feel two inches tall.

“Oh, sweetie, are you sure you want THAT toy?”

She didn’t say ‘that’ in big bold letters, but I could feel it in my fingers and toes the way you only can when you’re five.

“I-it’s not for me.” I stammered. “It’s for… her!”

And I pointed to the strange girl.

But all I got in return was a sigh and a roll of the eyes.

“Sweetie, there’s nobody here. Remember what Mommy told you about telling fibs?”

I remember being surprised, but not too surprised, because when you’re five you accept there’s a lot of things grown-ups just can’t see. But sometimes, you just had to play along.

“Liars get their pants of fire.” I recited for probably the 500th time by that point.

“That’s right, sweetie. Because when you lie, the vengeful spirit of Richard Nixon will rise from the grave to drag your soul straight to Hell!”

“If I promise to be honest, can we please get the pony?” I pleaded, giving her the old puppy dog eyes. “I swear it’s not for me!”

Mom furrowed her brow and put her hand over her head, the way she always did when something bad went down at work. But just when I thought I’d messed up real good, she said

“Okay. But no telling your Father, promise?”

“Promise!” I squeaked. Dad never played with my toys anyway, so it wouldn’t have been a problem. Mom proceeded to drag my keister out of that toy aisle so fast I didn’t even get to tell the girl goodbye.

And let me tell you, I got the weirdest feeling at the checkout line. Back when I was four, I’d tried to make an indoor pool by clogging the sink and letting the water run. When Mom and Dad caught me, I’d gotten this wriggling in my belly, like it was full of slugs. For some reason, buying that stupid plastic horse gave me the exact same sensation.

On the way home, Mom went into full lecture mode about how it wasn’t good to lie or something, but I was too busy feeling bad to care.

That night, I tossed the pony, still in its packaging, under my bed.

.   .   .

And that’s when things went back to normal- for a few days. I was playing with my plastic dinosaurs (the crappy ones that still dragged their tails) when I noticed a familiar pale eye glaring up at me from under the bed.

Before I could so much as ask how she’d gotten there, she softly whispered

“Can I play?”

And you bet I froze like a deer in headlights!

 “Thanks!” She chirped, clearly not taking the hint. Crawled right out from under my bed, rainbow maned pony in tow.

Now, most folks would have probably freaked out, or wondered how Hilda got under my bed in the first place. But at five years old, I’d lived through fat guys sneaking down my chimney to leave gifts and kiss my Mom and fairies turning my baby teeth into quarters while I slept. A dark haired girl hiding under the bed was nothing. What was something was her little plastic companion.

“You can’t play with the pony.” I stated flatly.

“Why not?” she half-whined, frowning.

“Because Jeremy Roddleman says ponies give you cooties, and he should know, because he’s the coolest dude in kindergarten!”

“And what makes him so great?” She asked, the faintest hint of annoyance in her voice.

In the half decade I’d been alive, I’d never heard such a stupid question, but my Mom raised a good kid, so I explained anyway.

“He owns a Game Boy Advance AND beat the Green Hill Zone in Sonic the Hedgehog!”

Then she stared at me like I told her fish nested in trees! “I don’t know what any of that means.”

“It means he’s really good at video games, so he probably knows a lot about ponies, too! Which means your toy should just go live under the bed with the dust bunnies!”

“Aw, but maybe he wants to play with the dinosaurs!”

I shook my head. “Boy ponies don’t exist. Everyone knows that! And dinosaurs don’t play. They FIGHT TO THE DEATH!” For emphasis, I rammed my T-Rex and Triceratops into each other so hard some of the paint chipped off.

“But maybe he isn’t a just pony.” She protested. “Maybe he’s a… DINO-PONY!”

Now THAT got me to drop my action figures!

“What’s a dino-pony?”

“It’s a dinosaur and a horse,” She explained. “And it doesn’t have cooties! So now can I play?”

“I guess so.” I said. I’d never admit it, but at that moment the idea of a dino-pony sounded like the coolest thing in the universe. “Though he doesn’t look like a dino-pony right now. He needs some… thagomizers!”

Half an hour, a few sheets of construction paper, a bit of play-dough, and several meters of masking tape later, our little abomination against God was complete! There was just one thing missing…

“So what should we name him?”

“Name him?” Said like I’d just asked her what the capitol of Kazakhstan was!

“Yeah, he’s gotta have a name!”

Her eye lit up like a harvest moon. “How about… Blagdaross: The Destroyer!”

And for the rest of the afternoon, we played out a story where the dinosaur king had eaten Blag’s Mom after marrying her, so he went on a revenge spree where he slaughtered all the dinosaurs on Earth in the Pokemon Colosseum, becoming the new dinosaur king/ Pokemon Champion. It was epic!

But at some point I realized something.

“What’s your name?”

For some reason, that made her shake like my Mom when she left the keys in the car while it was locked. “It’s… I- I don’t know.”

I cocked my head. “How does that work?”

She gulped. “All I remember is being at the toy store, and then you were there, and that I wanted a pony and- and-“

Tears welled at the corner of her one visible eye and I knew I had to act fast.

“You can be Hilda!” I declared.

“R-really? W-why Hilda?”

“Because you look like a Hilda!” Obviously.

And that was that. My new friend christened, we went back to making up enemies for Blagdaross to fight until dinner time.

But before I went downstairs, she had one more thing to ask.

“Watt, are we friends?”

I shrugged. “You’re pretty cool, so I guess so.”  And hopped downstairs, where a bowl of dinosaur mac and cheese with tuna was calling my name!

Eventually, I’d lose Blagdaross. But Hilda would stay by my side, living under my bed and even going to school with me.

And that’s how I made my first imaginary friend.

[hornydilfsinyourarea]

I mean it's not that I don't like horror movie (this is not true.), it's just I don't see a lot of them yk (cuz I'm too much of a wuss)

EHEM but anyway it's SO nice to talk to u again! No shots, the way I immediately started typing when I see u post, my keyboard almost got lit on fire geez

i love you 🥹🌹

-🌹

Ah, okay, yeah, I'm a horror fan, I just love watching horror movies randomly, but I'm a huge pussy when it comes to horror GAMES, like I can't, I would cry if I'm left alone in a horror game

And aww! Thank you so much! My laptop is probably tired from me since I type quite fast (not on purpose), I'm a fast typer, so sometimes words come out wrong, since I type what I'm saying in my head, and then I sometimes forget to add a word because I'm talking to fast in my head lol

And love you too, rose!!<3

[cuddyclothes]

Tastes So Good - Supernatural's "The Pissed Off Sandwich" Cookbook, Part Two

Some years ago some dedicated fans of Supernatural put together a cookbook to be sold for charity. It was named after the moment in Season 7, Episode 9, when Dean's turducken sandwich starts to ooze green. "I think you pissed off my sandwich" is Dean's immortal line.

I was asked to provide recipes. They had to tie into actual dialogue from the show John Winchester's recipe for "Kitchen Sink Stew" in Part Two. I'll have you know that making this stew entailed a lot of disgusting stuff, like stewed Slim Jims and beef jerky. Because I am a dedicated fan!!

JOHN WINCHESTER’S KITCHEN SINK STEW

Note: This is taken from John Winchester’s journal.  It has been left unedited.

STARTING OUT

Stew: only way to get vegetables down Dean’s gullet.  Constipated Dean is hell to live with.  Sammy loves vegetables.  He’s a freak.  And not just because he has demon blood.

JOHN WINCHESTER’S TIPS:

You need a stove.  Tried making this on a hot plate but it took three days and set the motel room on fire.  First ingredients, then cooking directions, then toppings and/or stuff on the side.

1. BASICS

2 lbs boneless beef chuck roast cut into medium-sized pieces

4 tablespoons of butter /14 diner packets

2 large onions, peeled and chopped up

2 tablespoons flour.  Or Bisquick

1 teaspoon sugar (skip sugar if using Bisquik)/ 2 Domino sugar packets

2 cups beer.  If you like dark beer, something like Negra Modelo.  My favorite is Budweiser.  Or whatever’s on sale at the gas station.  Guinness is a wuss beer and it costs too much.

2 beef bouillon cubes in 1 1/2 cup water. 

2. SEASONINGS:

Salt and pepper

Worcestershire sauce

Tabasco sauce

Parsley if you’ve got it

Bay leaf if you’ve got it

JOHN WINCHESTER’S TIPS:

Beef jerky or Slim Jims adds a nice flavor.  NO GUMMI WORMS, no matter how much Dean begs.

3. VEGETABLES:

You can put anything in this stew.  Mix and match:

1 big turnip, cut into big pieces

4 carrots, peeled, cut into chunks 


4 potatoes, peeled, cut into chunks

2 green peppers, chopped up

2 cups lima beans

One big can diced tomatoes

2 cups okra

Canned corn

2 cups string beans

2 cups peas

2 boxes frozen spinach

2 boxes frozen mixed vegetables

What the hell are parsnips?

4. DIRECTIONS:

Brown beef with butter, salt and pepper. If you can't get butter, steal a bottle of Wal-Mart oil, any kind. Not motor oil!

Add flour and stir until beef is coated and browned.

Add Worcestershire sauce—a couple of good shakes. 

Add sugar.  Add onions.  Stir around until the onions are soft.

Add beer and beef broth.  Give it a good stir.

Add vegetables.  Stir it.

Remember to give it a stir!

Cook for 2 hours, covered.  If it looks too dry add water, stock, or beer (of course). 

5. TOPPINGS:

Crumbled Doritos or B-B-Q potato chips

Pretzels

Party mix – the salty kind, not the sweet kind

Beef jerky

Crispy Chinese noodles from these cheapo restaurants.  If you want to grab a couple of soy sauce packets and add that in to the stew, be my guest.

JOHN WINCHESTER’S TIPS:

If no potatoes, use rice, around 2 cups.  Makes one big chunk of stuff.  Boys didn’t much like it: made them eat anyway.

No potatoes or rice, a couple of boxes of mac and cheese without the cheese works.  Save the cheese for something else, like dip.  If you have company.  We don’t.  We sprinkle it on cereal.

NO SALAD!!