#hope you enjoyed reading theory

[this-tastes-lemony]

Falsettos Food Theory

Okay so someone asked what this is and I really wanna explain! So the falsettos food theory is that food represents love throughout the Marvin trilogy.

In the show, In Trousers, Marvin is very strict about what kind of food he wants, and he gets very upset when he doesn’t get it imminently or the way he wants. For example, in the song ‘How Marvin Eats his Breakfast” there is the lyric,

“No one looks busy in this kitchen

And my breakfast isn't ready

And my stomach aches.”

This is in reference to that no one at that moment is giving him the love that he wants, and that he aches for it. Later in the song he also says ,

“I don't want miracles from heaven

Just some eggies over spinach over toast

No, I will not apologize!

She should win a prize:

Very best emoting

That girl can't cook”

When he says the first line he doesn’t literally mean he just wants a basic breakfast, he means that he doesn’t want much, he just wants to feel loved. By saving “that girl can’t cook” he doesn’t mean she’s lousy at making food, he means that she doesn’t give him the kind of love that he wants. One of the other ladies says

“maybe she can’t cook, but have you seen her milk a cow?” Implying that sexually she “provides” to Marvin, even if he doesn’t romantically like her (obviously this means nothing, just because they can be sexually active does not mean that it is love).

Another one is in Whizzer Going Down he says,

“he hates my wife

I hate his food”.

He’s saying he hates when Whizzer shows him love because he is not ready to accept the fact that he can be loved and he can love another man.

There are many more references of this in the show In Trousers and if anyone wants to hear them I’ll gladly go into it in another post!!

The ones in Falsettos are even more obvious references to love. In the song Tight Knit Family, Marvin sings,

“We all eat as one

Wife, friend, and son

And I sing out as they cook

I love my tight-knit family

I love the way they cook linguine”

They all eat as one meaning they are all receiving love from one another, even if it isn’t good. The next line being “I sing out as they cook” (singing out meaning to say or shout something loudly, most likely implying the unhealthy relationship he’s in with his family) this line is saying that while they provide him love and what ever he asks, he continues to complain about it.

However, in the next line he says “I love the way they cook linguine” which is a considered normal traditional meal for a lot people. This is showing that he enjoys when they provide him with basic normal love, instead of arguing or disagreeing with him.

Another reference later on in the musical is in the ENTIRETY of the song “This Had Better Come To A Stop”. The first set of unique lyrics though is what I’ll cover.

“Whizzer's supposed to always be here

Making dinner, set to screw

That's what pretty boys should do

Check their hairlines, make the dinner

And love me”

This is saying that Whizzer is supposed to always be at Marvin’s command, loving him and giving himself to Marvin sexually at all times. He mentions making dinner twice in these lyrics, again implying that he doesn’t want Whizzers love unless it’s later in the day once he’s gotten his love from his other family ( breakfast specifically).

Another general reference to food equaling love is Cordelia’s entire character. All she does throughout the show is provide food and such to the characters, this being her giving them constant love. Since Cordelia was giving Marvin so much food (presumably) during the two year gap during intermission, we can assume that her unique and (sometimes) not so great food taught him that he doesn’t always get to choose what to eat, but that he should be greatful someone is cooking for him anyway. I think Cordelia is one of the most amazing characters in the story.

For all of the song “Days Like This” she’s trying to get Whizzer to eat something, meaning she’s trying to share her love with him.

In the song “Jason’s Bar Mitzvah”, Dr. Charlotte says

“She's cooked for some 200 guests

[CORDELIA]

We number not that many

Actually... we're seven”

This shows that she has provided so much love for all of these people, even though there’s only seven. Only a couple lines later, she tries the food Cordelia made, and says that the food “tastes really yummy.” (in the pro shot Trina nods her head to agree).

This is important to me because it shows that Cordelia finally found a way to show/express her love with the rest of the characters, and have them reciprocate it for the first time on stage, showing that they are all at peace and finally love each other.

Just like in trousers there are hundreds of more references in Falsettos so if any of you would like me to go more into it I’d be happy to!

This is all speculation of course, we don’t know if any of this was intentional, buts it’s by far my favorite thing to talk about that’s falsettos related. Hope you enjoyed reading!

[justastrugglinghotchocolate]

So like a year ago, I made a post asking why Dorian confessed to murdering Basil in the 1891 edition of the book, but not the 1890. For the last few months, while working on tlg and the comic, I’ve on and off again worked on a small animatic for the ending of TPODG. Because of this I’ve had to reread the ending conversation with Henry again and again. And a thought occurred to me:

Is Dorian’s ‘desire to be good’ actually an attempt to stop being objectified?

Dorian’s ‘desire to be good’ is obviously horseshit, even to himself, but why does he do it? "To feel something new" is a lazy explanation especially when the book literally says that “[h]e felt a wild longing for the unstained purity of his boyhood”. He doesn’t want something new, he wants what he had before. But it’s not the innocence of his youth, nor something material he desires—it’s the way people treated him before Henry and Basil.

The thing that always stood out to me was this exchange (occuring after Dorian’s confession): 

“There is someone at White’s who wants immensely to know you—young Lord Poole, Bournemouth’s eldest son. He has already copied your neckties, and has begged me to introduce him to you. He is quite delightful and rather reminds me of you.”

“I hope not,” said Dorian with a sad look in his eyes.”

While many modern adaptations either forget this line or give a charitable reading, to me it reads as though Dorian realizes he’s replaceable. Even though he has a magic portrait and eternal youth, he still is a dying relic of a changing world. He will never be anything more than the innocent, youthful doll society and Henry treated him as.

His confession, to Henry of all people, was a final plea to be seen as more than the dumb youth, as an innocent angel—he is begging Henry to look at him and see that Dorian Gray is a person. That he feels more than youth, or beauty, or idolatry. That he is capable of great violence and even greater crime, like any other man and through that can be capable of evolving with the time like any other. He doesn't want to live as a passing fancy of perverts and naive young people.

But Henry breaks all of that in one simple line:

“You and I are what we are, and will be what we will be.”

But, Lord Henry was never going to see Dorian as a real person. Because Henry himself isn’t real. ‘Lord Henry’ is a role he plays, one that consumed him far before the first chapter. In many ways, his cynical philosophy is his own defective portrait. He hides any semblance of a person in his role of ‘cynical hedonist’ and denies any change. He too is a dying relic of a changing world.

When Henry denies his attempt to change, Dorian seeks Basil’s portrait of him. I think it's quite telling that even after he murder him, Dorian seeks implicit comfort from the man who had idolized his rose-white purity. Basil was the only relationship that was closest to what he had before. But the sad truth is laid bare:

No one ever saw Dorian Gray as a real person. 

He was always a role being played. 

And he dies tragically discarded.

[starflungwaddledee]

Regarding the ask with starstruck’s star spears and Galacta,I’m guessing they have some sort of beef? Maybe they’ve met in the past?

[x] i'm not sure if i'd call it beef so much as the whole entire herd of cattle

[persy-r-bozo]

DHMIS- The Yappining! 2/6 - Yellow

i diddnt know who to fully start with! so i decided yellow was my first victim.

Yellow is a very interesting character. he tends to play into the "Dumb yet sweet" character trope. but the steady reveal that this cannot be farther from the truth is amazing.

I feel him and his reflection could mean alot of things. and i believe it does. a part of me thought it could resemble the two sad sides of neurodivergent Youth. "The gifted" and "The trouble maker" gifted kids tend to be given to much pressure to succeed and troubled ones are ignored or just pushed aside.

i don't think the car killed him, just hurt inside and out. Causing a drift within an already possibly drifting family. (Perhaps this switch disappointed some. or made others go mad.) I think the gravestone and mirror could simply mean that version of him is dead. someone who cant be brought back. He's still the same, just not the way others might have wanted him to be.

The batteries could be a metaphor for meds. or hell he could be a cyborg. I mean his dad made a computer that just spawned bitches so i wouldn't put it past him.

the show or the world their stuck within tried to paint yellow stupidly. However he is quite emotionally intelligent. the world tries to paint him as useless but he isn't. I like the idea that yellow can read people very well. he can understand them in ways that make him super helpful, however he has issues with words and thought, often stumbling over himself.

his kindness and optimism is both a blessing and a curse. it makes him easy to control, but it also makes him a sense of stability and comfort.

he is such an interesting character!. a melancholy character. a sunshine behind a cloud. from a blind and innocent lad within the web series to a more dependable one later on. he has much to overcome, we can only hope he may.

But lets get into the-

-RELATIONSHIP VIEWS-

Red: Yellow and red are a very interesting pair. i feel as though yellow likes red. but he can read him, probably better than red can even read himself. Yellow can sense he is a ticking time bomb. that despite his quiet, he is breaking. so yellow is distant, keeping himself always a few steps away, just in case. He trusts red, its hard not to feel a little protected with a big fellow around. but yellow can just sense it. that red could snap, and that trust might break too.

Duck: THATS HIS RIDE OR DIE RIGHT THERE!. his ride or die! yellow loves duck, and feels a sense of comfort from him i think. I like to believe that duck might have even been a non related uncle of sorts. the brain fog may persist but you never forget that one guy whose never related to yall but still shows up. They are chaotic and i love them. while yellow can read people very well but cannot speak very well. Duck cannot read people for shit BUT BOY, IS HE LOUD N PROUD. They are two puzzle pieces together. pure chaotic opposites. This may cause big fights between the two but oddly enough i feel there's potential for the two to work really well together too. What im saying is PLEASE PLEASE IF WE GET ANOTHER SEASION I WANT TO SEE DUCK AND YELLOW HAVE THIER OWN ADVENTURE AND ITS CHAOTIC AND MESSY AND FUNNY AS FUCK PLEASE!!-

Roy: Roy is more sad. yellow loves him, yet that love is not mutual. and if it was it wasn't true families love, as it never stayed. Yellow flinches when Roy shows up in family. Yet he still wants to believe he came for him. Maybe yellow will realize this. that even though he loves him, He's not a good puppet person.

Lesley: This is interesting. If we are to believe she is his mother. he surely doesn't remember her. He Seems uncomfortable within her presence and skittish. But he stays and tries to be sweet. Maybe the reason he seems so skittish around her is because she might be the only creature he cant read that well. She's a mystery, her minds a mystery her everything is an enigma. Even to him. I don't think he remembers her at all. But one things for sure, even in the face of the unknown my boy aint rude.

EXTRA YAP JUST FOR YOU GUYS <3 !!!!!!!!!!

Yellow and clayhill-

Even though clay hill issnt cannon in the slightest and is played as a joke for all the older fans and the creators themselves IM A FREAKAZOID OK? IM INSANE! (i made a small headcannon weird thingy about yellow guy and clayhill to fit clayhill and its "Inexistence" into the series.) BEACUSE IM A MAD MAN OK!!?

I thought of the idea of clayhill being yellows little fanfiction (Babes first fanfiction!! he's following in the footsteps of his eldritch world building parents / guardians!!! <3 ) Yellow used it as a way to vent his little brain foggy daja vu head away.

Ill go though what i remeber clayhills plot line to be. Key thing is remember because I live in the US and i learned off of word of mouth mostly.

Its yellows ideal situation. hes with the other two. they are safe in a town with neighbors and people who love them and see them. Red is calmer, duck is more joyous. its yellows birthday today!. But a mean key comes to life and the mayor is missing.

Duck follows the key and is manipulated and hurt by steave. Yellows venting his frustrations with ducks blind following of the world even though it hurts him. but he understands, its because some of the objects are just so mean. Red runs away, Yellows venting his fears or daja vu like feeling that red will run away. leaving him all alone. He understands it might be for the greater good (finding the mayor) but he is still scared.

Yellow on the other hand, Gets a make over, he outsmarts an object. he finds a way to rescue duck and find red. to save the entire town and have his birthday party at home!. and i believe someone said the age on his badge changed from 38 to 48?

well if it did that might be yellow wishing to be older. Thinking if he was older he could control more things, talk better. Help more often. So in this world. everyday his is birthday, everyday he gets older. everyday he is seen and in control.

But This level of escapism doesn't really work for Lesley/Roy. so whenever they can they remind him that clay hill isn't real. it never was. and it never will be.

[blueepink07]

Analysing backgrounds from Mahiru's magazine

(mentions of death!)

Mahiru's first MV will always be one of my favourites due to all the cute and aesthetic designs, but also, because it has a lot of details and symbolism that continue to amaze me! Even if I have to chose from her second MV and this one, the first will always be the one that holds a big place in my heart!

Without any further ado, let's start analysing!

The first thing that I want to point out is that every section or page has the magazine's title This is how to be in love with you. Based on the appearance of this title, I grouped the days together when I analysed the backgrounds.

Note: By pages, I refer to Day 1, Day 2, Day 3 and Day 8 which seem to have their own design with a background consisting of one colour, and by section I refer to the pages which are grouped together: Day 4, day 5, day 6, Day 7(group 1); Day 9, Day 10, Day 11, Day 12 (group 2); Day 13, Day 14, Day 15, Day 16 (group 3).

At first, I wanted to group the first three days together, but I decided that it will be easier to let them separated as it makes more sense with the pattern in which the magazine title appears.

DAY 1

Day 1 it's the front cover of the magazine and the table of contents, shown through clothes. Although the day described is mostly uneventful, Mahiru just taking care of herself and admitting that she "always has to be ready", it's the best introduction for her new found journey of finding love.

The background is simple and cute: light pink with white hearts.

But even this simple and cute design choice can have a meaning!

White hearts 🤍 -> symbolise pure love; a strong romantic attraction that's deep and infinite

Light pink -> symbolises innocence and youthfulness; it's associated with beauty of life before it becomes complicated

Together they can represent pure and unconditional love, often associated with new beginning and fresh relationships.

This background it's a summary for Mahiru's journey of finding love. She desires to find her soulmate and to experience beautiful and innocent moments with her chosen one. A deep relationship, in which they are always together, until death do them apart.

Not only that, but it also shows her lack of experience in dating and how, for Mahiru, this is a new beginning in her life.

DAY 2

In Day 2, Mahiru describes how she recently moved in Tokyo and everything is new and exciting for her. She also expresses her wishes to find her true love.

The background is very simple: a grayish yellow which matches her clothes.

Yellow -> a warm color often associated with sunshine; it signifies happiness, warmth, enlightenment and optimism; it is also a symbol of hope and new beginnings.

The background is a good representation of Mahiru's feelings and thoughts during that day. She is cheerful and excited, because she began a new life, in a new, big city. She wants to experience and visit locations and to try different activities. Mahiru also hopes to find her soulmate, saying that this will be the cherry on the top. ~🍒

DAY 3

Day 3 it's when Mahiru is meeting, for the first time, her soon to be boyfriend. Although they do not interact and only met eyes, Mahiru already thinks that he must be the one perfect for her and questions herself if she is overthinking.

The background is again very simple: a pink that matches beautifully with the dark blue text.

Pink -> symbolises youth, good health and playfulness. It's the flush of first love and stands for nurturing femininity; pink can also be the colour of inexperience, timidity or a tendency to be overly emotional

Considering that this is the day when Mahiru fell in love for the first time, I think that it's no wonder that pink is a perfect choice for the background. It also shows her inexperience in terms of relationships and how she has to ask herself if she's not, in fact, overthinking. Basically, Mahiru needed some time to process her feelings and to gain courage to start interacting with him.

Group 1: DAY 4, DAY 5, DAY 6, DAY 7

With Mahiru discovering her crush for him, in these days, she tries as much as possible to spend time with her soon to be boyfriend. Meeting him in different places, such as a shop, or at her part-time job, running with him despite her lack of interest in this hobby... Her describing how her favourite romance books hit different now that she knows how it feels to be in love.

The background in this section is also pretty simple: white with heart doodles

White -> symbolises purity, certainty, illumination and insight; it is associated with knowledge and learning

In these days, Mahiru tries to learn new things about him. At the shop, she discovers what bread he is usually buying and wants to try it herself. She also learns about his hobby, running, and so on...

The white background illustrates that Mahiru is starting to learn about what is love and how these feelings can change a person for the better. Moreover, she discovers what type of person is her soon to be boyfriend and things that he likes.

Doodle hearts -> "When you draw heart shapes, you're signaling that you believe in true love and are in search of your soulmate. These shapes suggest romance is a priority for you right now."

As I've written before, Mahiru is in search of true love. For her, romance is a main priority, admitting that she decided to live for love in her VDs. And in these days, Mahiru actively tries to gain his attention, being fully convinced that he is the chosen one. (basically she is searching for her soulmate)

DAY 8

Day 8 is when Mahiru finally confesses her feelings to him. She waited for his part-time job to be over and then talked for hours, in the park. She is happy, because he reciprocated her feelings.

Background: light green

Light green -> means balance, hope, love, mutual respect, optimism, rebirth, renewal, vitality, harmony, growth;

In other words, green may represent Mahiru's desire to move their relationship forward. From a simple friendship, to something much deeper. She has hope that he'll reciprocate her feelings and will have a beautiful relationship, in which both will grow as a person, mature and maybe start a new stage in their life. (marriage - a wish that, for Mahiru, unfortunately hadn't happened)

Group 2: DAY 9, DAY 10, DAY 11, DAY 12

During these days, Mahiru spends time with her boyfriend. Being at the beginning of their relationship, they start with simple, but cute activities, such as watching a movie together, going in dates (at the bar) or visiting each others houses.

The background has more elements: white background with silver stars and pink clouds

Note: white can have the same meaning for this section and the next one. After all, even when you are currently dating you still learn things about the person you love

Stars -> symbol of guidance, truth and hope; they represent goals that are difficult to achieve (one must endure great difficulties in order to attain divine height)

This design choice explains Mahiru's dreams and hopes that their relationship will be forever beautiful. Also, it shows again, her inexperience in love and how she needs guidance for her love problems. The beautician (from Day 10) is the one who acts as an advisor and friend for Mahiru.

Considering the lyrics from her song, the stars may indicate Mahiru's views about love. The way she is embracing the pain that comes after short break-ups and disputes as a simple test of love. How she believes that they will always overcome these problems and their relationship will grow stronger. In Mahiru's pov she has to endure these problems in order to achieve the best form of love.

Moreover, stars can symbolise the great love than can be share between two people. The term "written in the stars" describes two persons that is believed are fated to be together, whose love is so big that the universe has brought them together.

Mahiru believes in fate and many times has stated this fact. From the moment they met eyes, she felt like they were made for eachother. She even considers that the reason she was born was to end up with him, as the universe has created her to be his pair.

Pink clouds -> signify joy and happiness; fosters great relationships; represents the changes in your life that can bring you to a place where the struggle is nonexistent, and everything is too good to be true

The pink clouds not only are a great and cute design choice, but they also represent Mahiru's feelings during the relationship. She is cheerful, because she finally met her soulmate and everything seems too good to be actually true. Unfortunately, this is truly the case, as this is foreshadowing the death of her boyfriend and their slowly collapsing relationship. Mahiru, however, at these early stages, doesn't see any wrong on the occasionally break-ups and wants to experience as many things as possible with her boyfriend.

Group 3: DAY 13, DAY 14, DAY 15, DAY 16

In the last days, their relationship is significantly much deeper and precious for Mahiru. She starts dreaming about marriage and wishes at her first shrine visit, from the year, to be always together with him. Mahiru dedicates a lot of her time to learn how to cook his favourite dishes, excited to see his surprised face.

The background is very pretty: white with colourful gemstones and iridescent colours

Gemstones -> symbolise luck, love, passion, romance and protection

Not only gemstones are a dazzling jewelry choice for weddings, but they also represent Mahiru's wish for their relationship to last forever. Gemstones offer protection against evil and help their love to bloom more beautiful.

Iridescent -> represents cleanliness, beauty or angelic activity; can symbolise the presence of a divinity; temptation; negative meanings: false promise, worthless

Considering that in Day 15, Mahiru wishes at the shrine for their relationship to last forever, she is basically asking the help of the divinity. Iridescent colours are a good way to show Mahiru's deep desires and how she is slowly falling on this temptation to move their relationship even further (to marriage), despite of their obvious problems that are causing lots of breakups.

This wish at the shrine, unfortunately, doesn't help and feels more like a false promise that everything will turn to better. Somehow, it does the opposite and fate isn't in their favour. The boyfriend dies, leaving Mahiru all alone in her own misery...

Here is the MV text translation!

Thank you for reading!!

[georg-prime]

I'm wondering if Billy thinks he only causes bad things around him and that he isn't even a real person (why he gets clearly upset when the witches deny his humanity), and so very similarly to Agatha plays the role of a "not so nice" person, with a purposefully ~scary~ goth appearance to cut from his, previous to the car accident, "good kid look" and what was till then Billy Kapla's personality, not contacting his loved ones, possibly having been arrested by real cops for some reason before getting to Agatha's etc.

I think he might even hate himself for 'replacing' the Kaplan' child. But I think he's wrong. There was never any other soul/mind/essence than his. He IS Billy Maximoff, created by Wanda with Tommy from pieces of the souls of their own future 13 yo reincarnations who were in Westview dormant like the other children at the time 🤟🙃

Anyway, things we know as fact in no specific order:

It was about 2010 inside Wanda's hex when she had to tear it down.

Billy Kaplan was born in the 'real world' around 2010 since it should be now 2026 in the MCU time and he is 16.

Sharon Davis was having a bad day even before Agatha enrolled her in her new makeshift coven.

The night before, late enough for someone to think it's a good time to do some breaking and entering she was driving (home? Away from home?). And she hit Billy while he was running away from Agatha, could have been anyone on Westview and it was 'Mrs Hart'?!

Wanda said Agatha will be safe while under her spell and that nobody will be able to bother her. So people who could harm her could only approach her after the spell was lifted.

Alice is played by a great actress, and is too cool and kind to be wasted as a character and be actually/permanently dead.

Agatha and Jen have known each other before Jen lost her powers.

A prophecy was told about the (a?) scarlet witch, so by someone who can see the future: the Scarlet Witch is not born, she is forged. She has no coven or need for incantation. Her power exceeds that of the Sorcerer Supreme. It is her destiny to destroy the world.

Agatha's magic is purple.

Wanda's spell on 'Agnes' spell has weakened as soon as she disappeared from this world.

The world is not destroyed (yet).

Incursions from other worlds have begin to happen since Spiderman No Way Home.

In the comics during the Secret Wars, different earths ultimately merged together to create a new one, destroying the previous ones in the process.

Billy Kaplan was in a car with his parents in 2023 driving towards Eastview away from Westview while something was happening to the hex, and they had a severe car accident hitting a tree in the woods between the two towns.

Wanda told the people of Westview freed from her control to run away before she reformed the hex when she realized it would erase her new family.

A powerless Agatha found her broch somewhere in the woods in 2026.

Lilia had a vision of her past with a black-hooded figure with a skeleton face. Lady Death and her skull face had a statue of her with her fellow cosmic entities in Eternity's temple (seen in Thor Love & Thunder).

In the comics Death is able to kill anyone she wants as long as they aren't more powerful than her.

Marketing for AaA included tarot cards where the characters appear very clearly as themselves (similar appearance in addition to their usual color scheme). The names of the cards are automatically called by Lilia when she realized who they are. J'en is The High Priestess, Agatha's card is Three of Swords, Alice's the Knight of Wands, their coven is the Three of Pentacles (where Billy appears too). The cards promoted left are the Tower (with two of the Salem Seven on it), and Death (who's holding the same knife 'Rio' has, and a black heart, which is also linked to Rio).

The Death tarot card doesn't signify actual death"but rather a profound transformation". Please take a look at this including the health AND romantic relationship readings:

Ralf Bohner was in witness protection, but also wore an ankle monitor, which was disconnected when the hex was created and that's why Jimmy was alerted. People who enter the witness protection program do so voluntarily and don't wear ankle monitors as far as I know, those should be put on people on probation and other criminal related situations. (He could be both?). Usually witness protection means new identity, so relocation somewhere safe with a new name (which is why I still don't understand why people where mad about that name it clearly wasn't his real name). There was a delete scene where he goes back to the basement with Monica and the twins to take the Darkhold, but they had to face a demon form Señor Scratchy. In an other one he cut the ankle monitor off in the confusion of the end events, escaping discreetly.

One of the few informations we have about him is that he has a mother.

Jen thinks that Agatha wouldn't recognize her own son if he showed up on her doorstep.

We see what we can assume to be an adult man from behind in AaA mid season trailer.

There are remors that Agatha's son is still alive and working for Mephisto.

In the comics he is also the leader of the Salem Seven.

The Daughters of Liberty are in the comics a group of women seeking justice and freedom since the 18th century, and we're taught magic since then by Agatha, who recruited princess Shuri in the 20th century, all working alongside members like Peggy and Sharon Carter, in this team recognized and even mandated by the US government some times.

Ralph seemed to only occupy a room in that house in Westview, suspiciously located near the piece of land the Vision aquiered. Agatha ended up living in the place out of all the neighboring houses where the government had put a mysterious secret witness.

There is a rumor that Jac Schaeffer might be running one of the MCU's next project, reason why she left Vision's Quest production. Possibly about dimensions jumping and or looking for Tommy, kind of like Kieren's run of The Young Avengers?

In the comics, Mephisto created a powerful being called Blackheart from the evil energies accumulated in a certain place in New York.

But because his new 'son' rebelled against him he banished him from 'Hell' to earth with diminished powers.

Blackheart is fascinated by humans and likes to focuse on those who walk the line between good and evil.

There is also an unrelated character who's hero alias was Greenwich Guardian, and turned out to be a villain who took the name Black Death...

In the comics Billy and Tommy's souls were at first pieces of Mephisto's, but became so different from existing as Wanda's and Vision's children that they made him explode when he tried to reabsorb them. That btw didn't happen on Earth, and when their souls went back there escaping from Mephisto's pocket dimension, they didn't got back to the year they were supposed to come from, but several years before. They reincarnated into two different families - not taking the body of pre-existing teens - and magically were born with the same face (how they realized they were somehow related).

Before that Wanda made them real not just from bits of Mephisto's soul, but also thanks to Agatha's energy/life force.

It's Agatha all along.

-

I'm wondering if Agatha even as Agnes didn't try to leave Westview immediately (as mind manipulation is her forte, and she still had all her powers Wanda never took them she just blocked her real personality and memories away), stumbling in the woods and losing her broch, then found a dying Billy in a crashed car with passed out parents and used all her powers on him to save his life in a reverse way she usually use her special ability.

[steelycunt]

FINAL MIDBLOCK ESSAY DONE!! I AM FREE!!

[sonicfrontiers]

I want to lay claim to the dark power of my monstrous identity without using it as a weapon against others or being wounded by it myself. I will say this as bluntly as I know how: I am a transsexual, and therefore I am a monster. Just as the words "dyke," "fag," "queer," "slut," and "whore" have been reclaimed, respectively, by lesbians and gay men, by anti-assimilationist sexual minorities, by women who pursue erotic pleasure, and by sex industry workers, words like ‘"creature," "monster," and "unnaturaI" need to be reclaimed by the transgendered. By embracing and accepting them, even piling one on top of another, we may dispel their ability to harm us. A creature, after all, in the dominant tradition of Western European culture, is nothing other than a created being, a made thing. The affront you humans take at being called a "creature" results from the threat the term poses to your status as "lords of creation," beings elevated above mere material existence. As in the case of being called "it," being called a "creature" suggests the lack or loss of a superior personhood. I find no shame, however, in acknowledging my egalitarian relationship with non-human material Being; everything emerges from the same matrix of possibilities. "Monster" is derived from the Latin noun monstrum, "divine portent," itself formed on the root of the verb monere, "to warn." It came to refer to living things of anomalous shape or structure, or to fabulous creatures like the sphinx who were composed of strikingly incongruous parts, because the ancients considered the appearance of such beings to be a sign of some impending supernatural event. Monsters, like angels, functioned as messengers and heralds of the extraordinary. They served to announce impending revelation, saying, in effect, "Pay attention; something of profound importance is happening." Hearken unto me, fellow creatures. I who have dwelt in a form unmatched with my desire, I whose flesh has become an assemblage of incongruous anatomical parts, I who achieve the similitude of a natural body only through an unnatural process, I offer you this warning: the Nature you bedevil me with is a lie. Do not trust it to protect you from what I represent, for it is a fabrication that cloaks the groundlessness of the privilege you seek to maintain for yourself at my expense. You are as constructed as me; the same anarchic womb has birthed us both. I call upon you to investigate your nature as I have been compelled to confront mine. I challenge you to risk abjection and flourish as well as have I. Heed my words, and you may well discover the seams and sutures in yourself.

Susan Stryker, My Words to Victor Frankenstein above the Village of Chamounix: Performing Transgender Rage (1994)

[withasideofshakespeare]

wake up babe, new incredibly niche fanfic just dropped

[man-down-in-hatchet-town]

Pulp Musicals and... Thoth??

I would say apologies to all of my followers having to deal with my incredibly wordy Pulp Musicals melt-down this morning, but mostly I just want to say "please please listen to these I promise you want regret it."

Now back my regularly scheduled wordy meltdown. Spoiler alert: I think I figured out what the green statuette on top of MAIA is!

So this morning I posted my analysis of the default MAIA drawing (here) and talked a bit about the green statuette, and how I couldn't figure out exactly what it was but suspected that it somehow linked to Samuel. I also mentioned that it looked vaguely Egyptian. @its-short-for-jackalope then put in the notes that Samuel is after all a writer and reporter, so the statuette could perhaps be an Egyptian scribe. I googled Egyptian scribe statues and none of them really looked right, so I then looked up the Egyptian patron God of Scribes.

His name is Thoth. He's often depicted as just a guy with a bird's head, but there are several depictions both from ancient times and from more recent eras (which doesn't bother me, as Pulp itself takes place way after Ancient Egypt... so far) where he wears a certain type of headdress and looks like this:

And here is once again the blown-up image of the statuette from the MAIA drawing:

I mean... I might be crazy but there's a definite resemblance there. It's a front angle, so our view is pretty odd, but could the blue smear I previously called a beard instead be a long, hooked beak? It's a definite possibility, and I did say there was something inhuman about the face (though at the time I went with "dog" oops).

So I'm pretty much convinced that the statuette is Thoth.

And here's the kicker: in addition to being the patron god of scribes, Thoth is the God of sacred texts, mathematics, science, and magic, as well as the master of knowledge and the messenger and recorder of the Gods. And, maybe most importantly of all, he is the God of the Moon.

So, yeah. Good enough for me.

So what does this mean if each item represents an episode or member of our quartet?

Well, one interpretation is that Ancient Egypt, and perhaps her Gods, will come into play as a central element of a future episode. This would mean that Samuel is instead represented by the globe (unlikely as the Earth is much more within John's line of symbolism), the rocket (unlikely for young man from 1835), or the crack in the wall (also not likely but by process of elimination nonetheless the least unlikely...which is terrifying), or else I'm completely wrong about each of the four protagonists having their own symbol (which makes Rose and Margaret having their own objects when the boys don't very, ah, weird and interesting).

But personally I think the Thoth statuette could still represent Samuel. Thoth is the god of scribes, after all, and that's what Samuel is. And just as Thoth is the messenger and recorder for the Gods, Samuel accidentally woke something inside of Margaret, essentially sending a message from the moon to her latent "divinity" (let's be real, by Ancient Egyptian standards Margaret and the Traveler would be Gods), and is now in a position to record for posterity what he sees and learns of these godlike beings. I'm also working on a theory that Samuel is literally the key to Margaret's gate, and I think that would fit with him being represented by Thoth, especially if the gate ends up being in/on the moon. But more about that after we've finally gotten to see Episode 3...

Unless that Episode completely discredits that theory before I even have time to post it. We'll just have to see.

But that statue is almost definitely Thoth, yeah?

[shittywriterbrain]

apologies to everyone who has to interact with me today or tomorrow because i just CANNOT be normal about hamlet and i WILL be doing this inside my head

[ankhmutes]

MASH and Zombies

Here you go; this is for a MASH fic thing I decided to do awhile back from @doctorparmak​ (DM me if you want me to take down the tag, no hurt feelings). My prompts were Potter, 4077 guest, Winchester with a theme of Supernatural phenomenon. the topics were a bit UN-inspired so I had a drink or two and rolled with what I had. someone commented or re-blogged about a MASH fic of mine today, so I went back and took a look, realizing I had forgotten about some fics. This fic was left half-started, and... well, I went with it, with much apology to the spirit of the challenge. If anyone can think of a better title, let me know. I might put it on Ao3 tomorrow. I just had to get it out and post it before i fell asleep. This fic is totally un beta-’d ad hot off the press so forgive any mistakes especially sacrilegious plot holes and canon mess-ups.

So read on, if you dare, to see more shitty fics under the influence of alcohol. Okay, not much of an influence, more of a buzz, inspriation, and laziness, and just because i can’t shut the fuck up enough to actually post the story... please comment or DM or whatever, apparently that does light a fire under my ass and gets things done.

Klinger was the first one to see them. Having gone out to the dump to take care of some dirty linens beyond repair, he saw them. Two men and a woman, their bodies covered in blood and eyes wild, searching for something. Entrails hung out of stomachs, and decomposition had set in. It was more than obvious to the clerk that these people should be dead. 

“Zombies!” Klinger screamed, his eyes wide as he dropped the forgotten linens and grabbed for a nearby shovel.

“What?” Zale scoffed as he scooted out from under a jeep. “That's a bit rich coming… Oh fuck.” Having seen the corpses, zale followed suit and picked up a large, heavy wrench. “What do I do?” He asked anxiously, watching Klinger.

“I'll go get the Colonel, you hold them off. I think you need to get them in the head.” Klinger said breathlessly as he tried to hurry off to OR, hoping it would be safe there. He had a brief flashback to 1943, when he was watching “I walked with a Zombie.” it made him recall things from the movie, that he thought trivial but maybe… maybe, things weren’t all they seemed. 

“Colonel!” Klinger shouted, breathless as he heard screaming from beyond the OR. Hawkeye ran to the doors, followed by Houlihan and Potter, Winchester hanging back as Mulcahy trailed behind Hawkeye, BJ stuck in the middle, wanting to attend to patients in case something had happened. 

“What the hell is this?” Hawkeye shouted, watching Zale scream as two.. no, three- three skeletal Koreans covered in blood and guts went at him as if he were their last meal. Perhaps he was, thought Hawkeye as he heard Klinger babbling about Zombies. Zombies??

“Hold on boy- Zombies? what nonsense is this?” Potter asked with uncertainty, unnerved by the sight before him. He was used to blood and guts- but being eaten? no, not that. Not even the time they were starving in the cold trenches in 1914 France. There was a man eating what was left of Zale, at the edge of the compound by the motor pool. People were coming out of their tents and screaming, the two other...undead.. were trying to gnaw on anyone who came too close to them. 

“BACK!” Potter shouted, barking out orders as soon as he recovered from the bizarre sight before him. He slipped into battle mode, he was the Colonel for a reason. He had his boys, he had his nurses, he had an entire MASH to protect. Feeling the surge of adrenaline rush through his body as he took a deep breath and his blue eyes surveyed the situation. He had brilliant surgeons, nurses, but no one was an actual soldier. 

“They’re already dead.” Mulcahy fluctuated, his hands moving from his head to his shoulders. Making the sign of the cross and crossing himself was the only thing he could do at that moment. “I gave them their last rites yesterday.”

“If they died, and they are like this now….” Winchester’s eyes widened as he turned, running into the OR where chaos had erupted, Major Houlihan and Kellye beating back a patient, his chest still open from where BJ had been working on him, he recalled hearing BJ pronounce him dead only fifteen minutes prior to when they had heard Klinger screaming in Potter’s office. 

“Go for the head!” Klinger shouted, his arms waving as he tried to throw the nurses any kind of weapon to help them. Margaret grabbed a scalpel, Kellye pushing back, using a tray as a shield. Several wild stabs later, the zombie was rendered dormant, a scalpel stuck in the base of his skull. 

“Oh god, oh god. What is this?” Margaret cried, sobbing with Kellye, as BJ gathered them to him, comforting them. “We were just starting to close up when this happened.” 

“We’ve got to hurry, the morgue isn’t secured.” Potter said quickly, recovering the moment. They couldn’t waste time. “Father, how many?”

“At last count, twenty. Most of them villagers, from that sickness that swept through last week. Only three casualties, four if you count this poor soul.” Mulcahy held on to his hat, turning to watch from the window, as various members of the MASH unit had succumbed to the zombies. “Although, there may be more now.” 

“What?” Potter and Hawkeye both ran up to the window, gasping in horror as they watched Igor be torn apart by several corpsmen, who had been in turn, attacked themselves from their injuries. “That does it. Klinger, get on the horn and get us help. Everyone else, arm yourselves. You heard the man, aim for the brain. They can’t be helped.”

“If we get bit… Mulcahy asked, wringing his panama in his hands, his eyes looking around the Pre-Op for any kind of weapon as the others tried to arm themselves with bits and pieces of various bludgeoning, cutting, and stabbing abilities. 

“We can probably amputate, maybe?” Hawkeye asked, glancing over at Winchester who shrugged, all nobility leaving his body as he picked up a pistol, checking for ammunition and taking a sharp breath as he looked up, a thought dawning upon him. 

“If all fails, call my cousin John. He and his father specialize in strange things, and they might be able to help.” Winchester turned, writing down numbers and names. “He’s a man of numbers, and a black sheep, but semantics be damned.” Winchester slammed down the pen. 

“Do it, Klinger, if help won’t come.” Potter said with a nod, not caring one bit about the military rules. There was nothing that covered people that had come back from the dead. He knew Mildred- Mildred would understand. She was a strong gal, all the way through. She was a fighter, and he was too. Putting his wife out of his head, Potter briskly hustled to his cabinet, pulling out an old military saber. 

“I haven’t needed this since 1917. I think it still serves its purpose.” Potter turned, mildly surprised he still had followers. “What are you doing? Get! Arm yourselves and secure this hospital.” The surgeons and nurses scattered, Mulcahy securing patients while Hawkeye and BJ took one end, Hawkeye and Potter taking the other. Kellye and Margaret helped Mulcahy, dosing patients to make sure they would sleep through the chaos. It was easiest, so they could transport them efficiently  if needed. 

“This feels so unethical.” Margaret said with a sob, holding on to their last patient, making sure he would go down quietly. 

“We have to protect them, and we can’t do it if they can’t help us. Father- can you knock them out? You pack quite a punch.” Kellye said with an tilt of her head to the OR doors, where they could hear Hawkeye and BJ shouting to each other. Mulcahy nodded, turning and moving the patients to one corner, close to a quick exit. 

“I’ll make sure a bus is ready to go. We gotta be ready to bug out of here if we need to. I don’t know how far this has spread. From what I’ve seen now, if you are bit and you die, you come back quickly, and go after others. It’s … “

“Yeah, it’s madness.” Klinger said, interrupting Mulcahy and holding out the phone. “It’s HQ. They’re swamped.”

“Then call Winchester.” Margaret snapped, turning to glare at Klinger fiercely. “We don’t know what started this, when it happened, nothing- and maybe, just maybe he can help us.” Margaret half-sobbed,  Kellye patting Margaret’s back subtly to calm her. Taking a deep breath, Margaret looked up to Mulcahy. 

“I’m on it.” as if he had read Margaret’s mind, he moved to the front doors of the whole OR, looking out towards the motor pool. The bus stood where Zale had been. The doors opened, and inside came Potter, Winchester, BJ, and Hawkeye. 

“There’s nothing left anymore, there shouldn’t be by now. We got everyone.” Hawkeye said as he leaned against BJ, BJ mute with a hollow, thousand-yard stare. Potter nodded, turning to Winchester, who turned to Klinger. 

“I left a message with the men of letters, they should call back…. Hopefully. HQ is overrun. I can’t ring the 8063rd. I think they’re… gone.” Klinger whispered, not wanting to say a word. 

“Let’s barricade this camp. Nothing can come in or out.” Potter said decisively. “Sandbags everywhere, that should slow them down, and we are bunking down here, securing your own possessions for a bug out from here if needed. I will give you your assignments after we meet here.”  The survivors nodded, spreading out to their tents and packing up what they could of their possessions, ready to say goodbye to the 4077 if needed. Hawkeye packed up what he could of the still, his father’s letters, cards and his clothes. BJ packed up letters from Peg, pictures of his family, and his books. Charles gazed at his record player, giving it a fond pat before putting it in his foot locker along with his records and his clothing, paying no mind to any of his other possessions. He had money back home, and money could buy anything, and anything could be replaced.

Margaret ran into her tent, surveying her things quickly and packed up her clothes, equipment, and several books. She refused to even consider bringing any of the lingerie or comforts that hung in her closet. She wanted to be ready to survive, and survival didn’t mean running around in a kimono, even if she was fond of it. Kellye opened the door, her bag already packed with her clothes and some mementos from her family in Hawaii. 

“Margaret? We need to go.” Kellye sniffled softly, blinking away tears. She wouldn’t cry, not when they had faced worse. But this was new, and new took getting used to. Margaret nodded briskly, wrapping her arm around Kellye as the two walked back to Pre-Op. 

Father Mulcahy put his bible and his clothes in his footlocker, along with several spare sets of his clerical collar, and several bottles of sacramental wine, wrapping it carefully using his boxing gloves and sweats for padding. At the last minute, Mulcahy threw in a football and a deck of cards. He wasn’t sure what use they could be, but he wanted to keep people mentally and physically  fit, not only spiritually fit. 

Klinger threw in his civilian clothes, he knew his cotton dresses could double as bandages if needed. Nylons, and a variety of jewelry found its way in his footlocker along with the bare essentials. Klinger gave his mannequin a fond pat on the way out as he put on his Toledo Mud Hens hat and threw on his shirt over his fatigue. He didn’t want to be mistaken for one of those horrible things. 

“All accounted for?” Potter called out, closing down his footlocker with a soft thunk, making sure his photographs and uniforms were secured, along with several zane gray novels and bottles of alcohol. He knew they could survive anything, as long as they had useful tools, and alcohol was important. A jack of trades, and he wanted to be sure everything in his kit was useful and had more than two uses, save for his cherished possessions, but they were only placeholders for the things that truly mattered, his family and friends. 

“I believe so.” Charles said as he was the final one in, shoving his footlocker next to Pierce’s. “Has my cousin called back yet?”

“Not yet.” Klinger said with a frown, as he looked back outside the windows. 

“We have shelter. We need to secure an escape route, seal off the camp. Klinger, stay on the horn. The minute Winchester calls, holler… quietly.” Potter held up a finger, his eyebrows raised. “They go after noise, so we need to be careful.” 

“Yes, sir.” Klinger whimpered, nodding as he glanced at his fur coat, thrown over his chair from earlier this morning and sat down, wrapping himself in the coat as if comforting himself. 

“You three- “ Potter waved a hand at Hawkeye, BJ, and Charles. “Secure the perimeter. Sand bags, tents, I don’t care. Make sure nothing can get through.” BJ turned to Hawkeye, discussing logistics, Charles leaning forward almost physically throwing his opinions in.  “And no fighting.” Potter added as an afterthought while turning towards Margaret, Kellye and Mulcahy. 

“Kellye, you take care of the patients. Keep them calm, unconscious, I don’t care. Now that the threat is under control, some patients may be able to help us. Do triage, and decide who can help and who has to stay bed-bound. Tie them down, just in case ….” Potter nodded slightly, indicating the unspoken. Kellye nodded, knowing her calm and friendly appearance would cause the least problems and panic with patients. 

“Father, say a prayer and help Margaret secure a bus, in case we need to bug out. We need a direct route to the bus and latrines. We don’t want any of us to be a casualty while on the can. I’ll check in on everybody, and help whoever needs help, but please, cooperate and stay –”

RI–

“MASH 4077.” Klinger spat out quickly, picking up the phone halfway through its ring. “Yes, yes we called the Men of Letters. Charles Emerson Winchester the Third. We’re in Uijeongbu, Korea. Oh, really?...” Klinger trailed off, as Potter leaned forward and yanked the phone from Klinger. 

“This is Colonel Potter. We’ve had an incident here, and our HQ in Korea is down, as well as a MASH unit northwest of here. Yes, seven of us as well as eight patients.. Yes, a chopper and a bus. No, Major Winchester gave us the number. I see…really? Washington?  We are trying  to secure the camp the best we can, suggestions would be welcome. Oh, I see.. Okay, then. We’ll sit tight.” Potter hung up with a thunk of the handset. 

“Mule Muffins!” he snarled, spittle flying in the air as his spectacles glinted in the dull light. “They’re sending Charles’s cousins over here with Sidney. They were already in Korea, tracking this malady. There’s no cure, but they can get us out of here and back to a secure location, then we can contact Washington and they will get us back home.”

“Home?” Charles asked, leaning forward as Hawkeye echoed Charles in disbelief. 

“Home. There’s no sign of the problem back home, but they want to limit it, and we’re … I don’t know. Exposed, maybe, but… Lord only knows.” Potter said, slouching on Radar’s old cot and putting his head in his hands. Mulcahy crossed himself, and made the sign of the cross as he took off his hat, murmuring a soft prayer under his breath. 

“Okay, so that’s good news. We just need to stay put?” Klinger said, a half-shrug as he turned and leaned back in his chair. 

“They’re going to be making their way from Seoul. Sidney will be a big help, I’m sure.” Potter said as he looked up and slowly stood up, looking every year and more, of his age. “So let’s get to work. I want this camp to be as secure as possible by sundown, and we are barricading ourselves in here, once the sun’s down.”  

Hawkeye, BJ and Charles wasted no time going out and moving vehicles to fill in the gaps between tents, Mulcahy making a path from the OR doors to the latrine using boxes and other equipment that was laying around. Margaret moved bodies out of the way, occasionally having Mulcahy help. The bodies went into a small pile, Mulcahy putting some kerosene on the bodies to help them burn more quickly, opting to burn now instead of waiting until dark, when it could attract more of the undead.

Potter flitted from group to group, helping Hawkeye, BJ and Charles move tables from the mess hall out to the edge, making the MASH a big circle, and the OR a smaller circle in the middle. Anything in between was made to be an obstacle, or a safe space to hide in if needed. 

Klinger told Kelleye to keep an ear out for the phone, while he went to secure food, Potter helping Klinger carry in several boxes of MREs and rations, enough to last each person a few weeks. Potter then moved to Margaret and Mulcahy, stowing a box or two of MRE’s on the bus and the chopper, and making sure both had enough fuel for a quick getaway. 

As soon as it got dark, everyone gathered back into the OR, Mulcahy barricading each and every exit and entrance and covering up the windows. Kelleye lit two lanterns, and everyone gathered into Post-Op. Several patients were awake, having been filled in by Kelleye, Margaret and Mulcahy. The rest were either asleep or sedated. All of them were tied to their beds.

“Any further word?”

“I think they’ll call at dawn. I know whoever I talked to was insistent that we get secured and hunkered down by sundown.” Potter said  as he took a seat on an empty cot. 

“Who takes the first watch?”

“I can’t sleep, so may as well be me.” BJ said as he glanced upwards for a moment, his mind flashing back on his wife and daughter. 

“After dinner, we’ll all turn in and sleep in shifts.” Potter set up the watch schedule, while Mulcahy and Kelleye readied the food for everyone. No one was in the mood to chat, or even make any noise. The only sound in the room was eating noises. The night went on in a similar fashion, everyone turning out the lights and sleeping in shifts until the pre-dawn light crept through the cracks of the tent and an alarm clock began to ding. 

“Get that clock!” Potter hissed, sitting upright from a half-sleep. Klinger turned it off, wrapping it into a pillow. Charles let out a long sigh,and crept into a cot, wrapping himself up in the blankets. The phone started to ring, and Klinger grabbed it in a fluid motion, handing it to Potter. “Yes? I see.  A few hours? I’ll be sure to have someone greet you at the entrance. All right then. We’ll look forward to seeing you, too, Sidney.” 

“Well?” Hawkeye asked, leaning forward as his bathrobe tugged at him, cocooning him further into his blankets. Mulcahy’s eyes moved from Hawkeye to Potter, and back again. “When's the welcome wagon?”

“Settle, Pierce. Sidney and company just made it to the 8063rd. They’re still trying to secure the location, and they’ll be here around lunchtime. If they don’t come by sundown, they’ll be here by dawn tomorrow.” Potter let out a quick exhale of relief. They just had to stay put and amuse themselves, staying out of too much trouble for a while. 

“I can’t believe this.” Margaret finally said, breaking the silence. “I… I had to decapitate Nurse Able.. I keep seeing her eyes and mouth.” Her hand went over her eyes, and let out a sharp huff. 

“The Lord will understand. He- “

“There’s nothing, Father! Didn’t you see all of it?” Hawkeye shouted, waving a hand in an ‘out there’ sweeping gesture. Mulcahy’s eyes darkened, a frown drawing down his features, making his features appear sharper. 

“Hawkeye- Benjamin- I had to kill someone, too. I took someone’s life, but his soul had already departed. They were shells. Shells of..something. God would not do that. Not him.” Mulcahy said passionately, half-leaning over Hawkeye, his Panama hanging over his brows and obscuring his blue eyes. “So until you feel ready to tell me where exactly those things- got animated- you can’t tell me that’s nothing.” Mulcahy’s voice had risen only slightly, enough to show his fear and anger. No one had heard Mulcahy use that sort of voice before. They’d heard him shout, lose his temper, even punch out disorderly patients or staff, but no one had heard him allude to anything relatively close to Hell. Purgatory, perhaps, but never…. Hell. 

Brimstone, flames, and pitchforks Hell straight from Dante’s Inferno, or a horror film. Hawkeye’s features contorted in a twisted scowl, mildly surprised that Mulcahy had responded the way he did. 

“So, wait, are you saying these things are the opposite?”

“My cross found its way into the skull of one of the creatures. His eyes and blood turned black, and I could hear sizzling and smell smoke. I am pretty sure that it’s not… a good sign.” Mulcahy said with wide eyes, sliding a hand in his pocket and withdrawing a metal flask and taking a sip from it. “Alas, I couldn’t get the cross out of his skull, it had fused somehow. I had to use a pin from the tent.” Mulcahy let out a small huff. 

“Burning the bodies.. That was the weird smell, brimstone?” Charles asked after a long moment, turning his head to look at Mulcahy, sitting up from his prone position on the cot, having woken up at Mulcahy’s raised voice. Mulcahy shrugged, and put his hands on his knees. 

“I don’t know, and I don’t want to know.” Margaret said with a shake of her head, holding up a hand as she spoke. Klinger nodded his agreement, and Potter leaned back in his chair. 

“Sidney and company will have answers, I hope. Until then… we just sit tight.” BJ said, the first words he really had spoken. Hawkeye turned to BJ, slightly startled by the sound of his hollow voice. 

“Beej…” BJ didn’t reply, his eyes heavy-lidded and focused on the doors that led out to Klinger’s small office. Hawkeye flopped back down on the cot. Everyone spent the rest of the morning in silence, Margaret and Kelleye going to the latrine in a pair, both brandishing bayonets. Charles and Klinger took their turn after the women, followed by BJ and Potter, and then Mulcahy and Hawkeye, each group taking an ambulatory patient with them. 

“That’s what we saw in the 8063rd.” one of the patients whispered, leaning into Hawkeye as he pointed at the prone body of Zale, at the edge of the bonfire. “They just started eating each other. If you screamed, made noise, they’d go after you.” The patient promptly threw up, Mulcahy patting his back. 

“So it was there first?” Hawkeye asked thoughtfully. 

“It must have made its way through the villagers. There’s a few villages between here and 8063. It must have come here with that flu.” Mulcahy said with a nod, putting the pieces together. “We just need to find that… missing piece.” 

“Sidney’ll have it.” Hawkeye said confidently, helping the patient back into Pre-op, his head tilting as sounds filled the air. “I think we might have company.” Hawkeye whispered, putting the patient back on the cot, turning to Potter and Klinger.

“Try not to use the guns, unless they come in here.” Potter said as he handed handguns to the patients, a Sargent Dixon, Lieutenant Lincoln, and Privates Grimes, Rhee, and Jones.  Each patient nodded, having gained an understanding of their situation from their trips to the latrine, and their memories of the 8063. Everyone else picked up melee weapons, and it was decided that Klinger, Kelleye, Winchester and Margaret would be the final line of defense, ready to take the patients over to the bus. Potter, Mulcahy, BJ, and Hawkeye would slowly creep out to just outside of OR to evaluate the situation. 

There were only three stragglers, each of them wearing a uniform. BJ recognized two of them to be nurses, and Mulcahy recognized one as a lieutenant; it was one of the few red-heads in the camp.  They were hissing and groaning, feasting on several of the remains that had yet to be burned. 

“We’ve got to be quiet. One at a time. Two distract, two …. “ Potter nudged his own weapon in a slight upward swing. BJ and Hawkeye nodded, splitting away slightly from Potter and Mulcahy. Hawkeye raised the baseball bat, BJ raised his sharpened cane, in preparation to stab. Mulcahy and Potter both made noise, banging slightly on the closest metal surface, poised to run. 

The moment the noise broke through the stillness, the creatures’ heads swiveled, and their mangled bodies tensed. Two ran after Mulcahy, who pushed Potter out of the way and shouted. BJ and Hawkeye moved as one, Hawkeye hitting a home run while BJ stabbed with gusto, grunting softly as Hawkeye moved, leaping after Mulcahy, BJ and Potter bringing up the rear. Stopping all of a sudden, Mulcahy crouched, allowing for Hawkeye to swing the bat once again, Potter swinging a rope over his head and lassoing the other creature, tugging the rope sharply as he moved the rope around a pole, halting the creature in its tracks. 

“Get it, Ben.” Mulcahy said breathlessly, moving up from his crouch after Hawkeye swung the bat yet again, the creature lunging after him. BJ lunged, meeting the zombie halfway leading with the cane, end shoving through the eye socket. 

The remaining creature snarled, trying to lunge after Potter, who held the rope taut. Mulcahy continued to pant, his hands on his knees as Hawkeye and BJ bludgeoned and skewered the creature’s head in near tandem. 

“What were you thinking?!” Hawkeye hissed, turning into Mulcahy, his red bathrobe flying, his hands moving out to inspect Mulcahy, checking for anything that could have caught the illness. Hawkeye’s motions were stopped by the sound of Potter’s quiet voice, distracting Hawkeye and Mulcahy moved, taking advantage of the pause.

“Thank you, boys.” Potter interrupted,, his arms collapsing to his sides as the creature fell. Mulcahy tiptoed softly over to move the rope, the men moving the bodies yet again to form another pile to burn later, it was about time for their guests to hopefully make an appearance. 

“Maybe they came here, attracted to the noise of people..” Mulcahy asked, thinking out loud in his soft voice as he walked warily down the hand-made path that led to the OR, following after Potter, BJ and Hawkeye flanking the colonel. 

“It’s possible. We don’t know how they’re traveling. Vehicles would make noise. I’m sure they’ve figured that out,and they’re traveling by foot.” Potter said with a sigh, eyeing Sophie walking around in her corral. “I’ll take Sophie, and the colt, check the entrance with Charles.” Potter said as he opened the doors to Post-Op and waved for Charles to come over, telling him the plan. Charles nodded and followed Potter, allowing the others to rest and take over for Margaret and Kelleye. 

“That was quite an adventure, I’m hoping you’re prepared.” Potter panted as he leaned back on Sophie, waiting at the entrance as Charles leaned against a Jeep. The two had been waiting for a few long moments, unnerved by the lack of people. The only sound that filled the air was the buzzing of insects, attracted by the death and destruction. 

“I think I see something.” Charles said, leaning forward and squinting down the path to where it curved just past Rosie’s. Sidney could be seen, walking slowly with boots wrapped in cloth. Two people followed him, two men dressed in uniform. One was heavy-set with a brown beard, the other was clean-shaven but with a head full of black hair, thicker and darker than Hawkeye’s. The clean shaven man looked to be quite young, as young as a draftee right out of school. 

Sidney held up a hand, indicating that they would be there momentarily. Potter raised one back, as did Charles, recognizing some of the features on the dark-haired man to be of his young cousin John. He didn’t think Cousin John was quite that young, but perhaps he had been mistaken. 

When the men met up, introductions were made. SIdney introduced John Winchester and Bobby Singer. John was a man of letters, Bobby his companion and fellow hunter. Wasting no time, the men slunk over slowly to Pre-Op and Sidney let the men introduce themselves and explain the situation after everyone was able to settle down. 

“There was a bad situation, A general made a deal with.. Someone, and the deal was broken by the General. As a result, this sickness spread, from HQ all the way down to the 8063, and the 4077. Now, since it is only confined to several cities, it’s explained away as a virus, but … we’ve got to do some things, and I think Father Mulcahy can be of use.” John Winchester said with a nod. “Thanks to Cousin Charles, we did find the source of the outbreak. Do you remember treating a General Broadstreet?”

“That guy who just kept sending his men to die over that damn hill?” Hawkeye hissed in anger, leaning forward owlishly, Mulcahy nudging him quietly on one side, BJ the other. Charles let out a hum of disgust. “THAT is what he sold his soul for?”

“Not just his soul. Everyone’s.” Bobby said with a frown, turning to glance over at Mulcahy. “This is where you come in.”

“Me?” Mulcahy asked, flabbergasted, his eyes wide. “How can I help? I’ll do it.” he said without hesitation, stepping forward. 

“You’re the one who punched out Broadstreet?”

“Yes.” Mulcahy stated directly with an undertone of slight uncertainty, his eyes skidding over to Potter, who frowned and nodded. 

“Do you still have that handkerchief? With his blood?”

“Um… it’s in my tent, I believe. I still haven’t had time to wash it.” Mulcahy said with a quizzical voice. “Did you need the- the blood?”

“Yes, and we need you to bless every drop of liquid in here that you possibly can.” John said with a nod. “Broadstreet is dead, but this is the last we have, he didn’t have children, a wife, nothing.”

“He was a bastard, that one.” Potter said with a grunt, tilting his chin upwards stubbornly, everyone staring at Potter in mild shock, not expecting Potter to say such strong words. Especially about someone of his generation, or even a colleague. “Somehow this doesn’t surprise me.” Potter leaned forward, eyes moving from the two men to Sidney. “Are we crazy, Doctor?”

“You all are just as sane as I am. We’re just in a crazy world right now.” Sidney said bluntly, his heavy-lidded eyes blinking slowly at Potter, his sinewy body dropping to the nearest cot. “We really need to do this, as soon as possible. If you’ll loan us your priest. He’s probably the last chaplain left standing.”

“Oh dear.” Mulcahy said timidly, taking a breath and nodding. “I’ll go get it, and - you’ll do what you need to do.” Mulcahy ran a hand through his sandy hair, standing unkempt from his run as bait, turning immediately on his heel and walking towards the doors that led outside. Hawkeye blinked and ambled after Mulcahy, grabbing the bloodied and battered baseball bat on the way. He wouldn’t let Mulcahy go out there alone. Not after what he had pulled with Potter. “You don’t have to come, you know. I’m fine.” Mulcahy whispered, his breathless tones barely reaching Hawkeye’s ear. 

“I had to.” Hawkeye said simply, not wanting to let Mulcahy out of his sight, he wasn’t sure what he would do without Mulcahy, he kept everyone sane. His innate goodness was just too good for this world. For himself, Hawkeye thought briefly, not wanting to think too deeply in the middle of the apocalypse. The two men slowly approached the chaplain’s tent and waited for a long moment, hoping nothing had made its way into the tent. 

“I think I put it into my desk, or my laundry- I’m not sure. I was furious and not clear-minded.” Mulcahy murmured, slowly opening the door and peeking inside, allowing Hawkeye to nudge past. The two men searched the tent, Mulcahy making a small noise of delight, finding the handkerchief and a tooth in a drawer that housed a notepad and several small bibles. 

“A tooth?”

“I don’t know, I just picked it up.” Mulcahy said with a shrug, not understanding the impulse. Hawkeye shrugged, wrapping it up in the blood-stained handkerchief with a manic grin and breathless chuckle. The two men walked slowly, making sure that no noise came from any rustling of the cloth. 

“A tooth?” Bobby asked skeptically, his eyes raising from the tooth to the priest. 

“I don’t know, it must have come out, I picked it up.” Mulcahy said airily, shrugging as he leaned forward, peering over Hawkeye's shoulder at the small bowl that Bobby had set up, and the book John was reading from. 

“So this voodoo will bring everything to an end?”

“Hopefully, yes.” Bobby said succinctly as Sidney, Charles and BJ tended to the patients, giving Kelleye and Houlihan a rest. It was several hours later, reaching dusk when John finally nodded and rose from behind the desk that he and Bobby had been bent over, tinkering with the bowl, book and various flasks. 

“We need Father, if you’ll put on your collar?”

“Do I need anything else?”

“No, just the collar- it’s your authority. Crucifix would work too, but the collar could be harder to remove.”

“Oh.” Mulcahy said with mild surprise as he affixed his collar, eyes moving to Hawkeye, glasses glinting in the soft lamplight. His heart was pounding, as he picked up his crucifix, making the sign of the cross and started walking through the Post-Op room. 

“What do I need to bless?”

“Everything you can, I think sources of water would be easiest. Do you have a well? Common sources… ?” Potter nodded, explaining the camp layout and details. It was then decided that Mulcahy would be accompanied by Bobby, John would stay with Sidney in each room, after Mulcahy completed to make sure every room was cleared and blessed properly. 

“Use this, if you can.” John said with a nod, handing Mulcahy a small braid of what resembled sage, covered with a paste. “It will negate everything.” John’s handsome boyish face was pale, his eyes moving to Bobby’s for a moment before Bobby nodded in agreement. 

“So one shaman for another, basically?” Mulcahy asked, raising the braid. “It’s like two opposites, mirrors of one another. As above, so below.” Mulcahy said with a lilt of understanding, his eyes blown wide. 

“Don’t say it out loud, Father, but yes to  what you are thinking.” John whispered, leaning into Father Mulcahy. Hawkeye could see the shudder that ran through Mulcahy, his blue eyes locking onto Hawkeye’s. For a beat, the two men locked eyes and didn’t blink. Hawkeye could see the fear in Mulcahy’s eyes, flashing only for a moment, followed by a cold calm that he had never seen before. 

“Benjamin.” Mulcahy said after a moment, hovering at the doorway that led to outside of Pre-Op, Bobby at his side. Hawkeye nodded, knowing what Mulcahy was saying to him at that moment. 

Goodbye. 

Hours passed, Hawkeye pacing the room softly and keeping busy with patients and playing cards with BJ, occasionally running a hand along the baseball bat and needling Charles. BJ constantly blinked away tears, his hands running along a photo of Peg and Erin he had put in his jacket pocket, ‘just in case’. 

“Pierce. The Padre will be alright.” Potter said softly as he paused from reading his Zane Grey. “You know he will be. He’s a good lad.”

“Too good for the world.” Hawkeye said with a quiet scuffle of his boot as he flung his body softly down on the cot, Sidney moving to Hawkeye, cutting off any rants. It wasn’t the time to do that, Sindney rebuked Hawkeye with a hard gaze, yet soft with understanding. 

Hawkeye went back to needling Charles, and bantering softly with Margaret, until a soft noise could be heard at the entrance to Klinger’s office. 

“It’s done, I think.” Bobby said as he slunk back into Post-Op. “We took care of everything we could think of. We just gotta have something to test it out.” The not-sage was burned to a crisp, a faint smoke was wafting from Mulcahy’s jacket pocket. 

“What do we need to do?” Potter asked warily. 

“Leave it to us, you’ve done enough.” John said as he gathered up his things and put it in a small black bag that seemed to emerge from thin air. “Sidney.. Thank you for your help. You’re a true gentleman of letters.”

“No, thank you. I’m glad you came.” Sidney said with a slow nod, a finger tapping his nose in silent understanding. Something had passed between the visitors and Sidney, but it was lost to any understanding. 

“Good day, gentlemen, and wait for our all-clear. We’ll go check the 8063, we’ll take some of these blessings with us.” Bobby said with a nod, picking up a crate filled with bottles. “Thank you, Father Mulcahy. For everything.” 

“Anything to help, gentlemen.” Mulcahy said faintly, a small smile dancing on his lips and a spark of mystery in his eye. Bobby and John disappeared out in the near-darkness, leaving the survivors of the 4077 to wonder, and to wait for another arduous and silent night, until the phone rang in the morning. 

“Klinger here.” Klinger whispered, now used to picking up the phone the moment it vibrated, before any sound could leave the handset. Klinger handed the phone to Colonel Potter, who just let the handset rest on the desk, letting everyone hear the conversation. 

“It is done. It is back to normal. Go back to your lives.” Bobby’s voice said with a note of happiness. “Y’all are gonna get a call from HQ. It’s like a reset. Y’all can go back to .. well, normal.”

Potter exhaled and nodded. 

“Thank you for your service, gentlemen.”  Mulcahy and Hawkeye shared a glance. Bobby was wrong, things would not be back to normal- at least, not where Mulcahy was concerned. But that was okay, it was a reset. A reset of some possibilities to come. 

[cloudwisp]

𝐬𝐲𝐥𝐮𝐬 · 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐩𝐢𝐞𝐜𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐡𝐢𝐦

contents: smut. minors dni 18+. reader wears a nightgown to subtly get the message across. attempt at seduction. lots of teasing and kissing. first time with him. size difference. fingering. borderline overstimulation. vaginal penetration. mostly sweet lovemaking but implications of leading to rougher sex. sylus has a huge dick (he is standing at 6’2 after all). 2.9k wc.

꒰ note ᰔ based off of this arranged marriage sylus x wife!reader post but can be read as a standalone. smut writing is never one of my strengths but I had fun with this one!! and I can only hope it’s an enjoyable read to those who were anticipating a sequel 🤍꒱

“Doing a little late night reading?” Sylus glances at your form through his peripheral as you enter his bedroom with a light skip in your steps. He’s perched at the end of his bed with a high profile report in hand, and with a tilt of your head and prying eyes you hover over the document between his fingers as you stand before him. You skim through a few lines before he tosses it aside, murmuring that it’s nothing of importance when something more interesting happens to catch his attention and you feel the heat of his gaze doing you a once-over.

Your cheeks warm and you feel a tad shyness wash over you when he quietly appraises your body clad in a gorgeous silk slip with lace embellishments. He hums in appreciation, a slow smirk curling on his lips before he reaches out to grasp your waist and pull you forward onto his lap. He secures one arm around you to keep you in place and his thumb sweeps over the delicate sleepwear and the bare skin of your thigh in a soft, languid motion. “You’ll catch a cold in just your nightgown, kitten. Or did you wear it for me?”

“Maybe I just wanted to change into something a little more comfortable.” You respond with a coy smile and playful shrug of your shoulder which causes the thin strap to fall from just a whisper of movement. He enjoys your little display and act of innocence if this is your way of telling him that you want to deepen the relationship through shared intimacy like normal marital couples do during this time of night. And truthfully, he’s been waiting far too long for this moment to come but he didn’t expect you to offer yourself on a silver platter. What a sweet and precious wife you are.

“I’m sure you could find something more suitable than a flimsy nightgown.” His knuckles brush up along your arm and hooks the fallen strap around his finger to slide it back into its proper place. “But then, perhaps you wanted to tease me, too?”

You click your tongue in disappointment. No matter what you do he was always two steps ahead of you—it’s thoughtful yet infuriating especially when you want him to act more surprised. “Nothing ever gets passed by you, it seems.”

His large hand slips under the lace trimmings of your nightgown and moves closest to your backside for a firm squeeze. “You should know by now how badly I want you, sweetheart. And with you sitting in my lap, looking breathtaking like that. I’m tempted to just rip this little thing off of you.”

You purse your lips into a small pout that’s adorable to him and grunt in disapproval. “What if this night dress is one of my favorites? Don’t I get a say in what you can and can’t tear?”

He arches a brow as though to challenge you by putting the theory into practice. You keep forgetting that he could read you like an open book, and he loves nothing more than proving you wrong at every chance. “Are you saying you wouldn’t enjoy it if I did? I’ll buy you new ones. Better ones.”

You mull over at the thought. “Sounds troublesome. I’ll have to keep making these frequent shopping trips.”

“I just mean the nightgown is in the way of me seeing all of you. You’re more than welcome to wear it any other time, but right now… I want it off.”

“Well, it’s only fair you make the next move.” He groans lowly when you shift your weight in his lap and rest your head against him. You drag your manicured finger down his chest and gently flick at the silver chain looped between his collar. “I did come all this way just for you.”

He understood your meaning and leans down close enough so his warm breath fans over your lips when he tilts your chin to look at him. “If you want me to take off my clothes, you’ll have to undress me yourself.” The soft spoken words in his deep voice send a tingle to the back of your brain, and the lingering kiss he places on the corner of your mouth adds a fluttering sensation in your stomach.

“Still making me work for it? And here I thought I would be cherished and wouldn’t even need to lift a finger.” You bring yourself upright and shove him down onto the bed to climb over him and straddle him. He gives you a knowing smirk at the sound of your cute gasp when you feel just how hard he is for you against your clothed cunt. You make quick work of undoing the underlay of buttons tucked beneath the thick fabric of his tailored dress shirt and remove it entirely to reveal every bit of lean muscle. His build akin to that of a spectacularly sculpted marble statue down to the details of his veins on his strong arms.

“Making you work for it is half the fun, kitten. But just remember who will be putting in the most work tonight.” His hand wanders up your thigh again and moves along the curve of your waist, the expensive silk bunches under his touch and he gropes the fullness of your breast. You feel the strap loosen around your shoulder once more. “Are you liking what you’re seeing? You’re allowed to mark what’s yours, you know. But I’d like to be able to mark you as mine too, wife.” His hungry eyes slowly roam over your matching panties and midriff before he returns your gaze.

Your smaller hand covers his knuckles meanwhile his thumb brushes across your nipple and he revels in the feeling of the bud hardening over the material. “You’re just always so straightforward, aren’t you?” You sensually wrap your finger around the other strap that’s perfectly intact and at your cue Sylus glides his hand down to the small of your back and watches as the dress cascades down to your midsection.

“And you’re so beautiful.” You’re a heavenly sight to behold with the way his amorous stare commits your very existence to his memory, particularly the swell of your lovely breasts that’s heavy with lust and begging for more of his attention. He gently reaches for your wrist and his fingers smooth under your palm to bring your hand up to his face. His thumb runs over the wedding band that binds you to him laying a light kiss against your knuckles, then places your hand over his shoulder waiting for your next move.

You don’t waste another second closing the distance between you two and crash your lips against his for a needy and desperate kiss. Your fingers tangle into his silver locks and your heat grinds against him hoping for some semblance of relief from the ache that’s building inside you. You feel him envelop your breasts fully with each caress and tender squeeze and a little bit of nipple play.

Sylus tastes faintly of sweet, tannic notes from the lingering aftertaste of red wine as your tongue meets his through parted lips. His arms and hands alternate between hugging your body and grip tightening on your hips, bucking himself up into your heat. You feel yourself needing more, wanting more and being closer to him so you hurriedly unbuckle his belt and suddenly the sound of fabric tearing reaches your ears.

You muffle in surprise against his lips and push him back just enough to see him wearing a smug expression. “I should’ve known you’d go against my wishes.” You scoff in disbelief and yet there’s a grin playing across your features that betrays your earlier words. You hate to admit he was right from the start—that you’d find the ripping more attractive instead of being carefully unwrapped like you both have all the patience in the world.

Sylus discards the now ruined piece of clothing aside. He lifts you with ease and your back embraces the cool sheets when he drops you down on the mattress and returns to his full height. “I was never one to follow rules. Besides, you look perfect like this.” You support yourself up on your elbows to follow his movements, and any smart comeback you have dies in your throat when he picks up where you left off by unfastening his belt and stripping out of his trousers. His boxer briefs follow suit and he thinks it’s adorable how you look mesmerized from this performance alone.

Your eyes settle on his huge cock. Almost gawking at it and you unconsciously clench your thighs together. It’s perfectly proportioned to the rest of him—long and notably thicker with an upward center curve and a few prominent veins here and there. He flushes a pretty shade of red that’s gradient from the head down and his pubes are neatly trimmed.

“You don’t have to look so scared, kitten.” He rasps an amused chuckle, and he feels you tense slightly when his hand scales up along your knee to your inner thigh and he dips his fingers between your legs. “I’ll take my time with you so you can handle me.”

Your breath hitches when he feels how drenched you are through your panties. He offers a gratified hum, his handsome face and broad shoulders become your main focus as he closes in on you. “Spread your legs wider.” He murmurs into your ear, and as soon as you give him more access he delves into your mouth for a bruising kiss and chases you down onto the bed. His ministrations on your clit feel absolutely sinful yet so wonderful and your arm wrap around his back meanwhile your hand explores the muscled panels of his upper body and the areas that are within your reach.

A string of saliva connects you both then disappears as your lips come apart. But he doesn’t stray far when the exquisite look on your face is a breath away and he pulls your panties aside to collect your arousal with two digits sliding through your puffy folds. Your lustful sounds escape in a warm exhale as soon as he slowly inserts his thick fingers into your tight pussy, and you’re quite the vision arching your back so tastefully.

“Mmh, that f-feels so good, Sylus.” Your eyes glaze over when he steadily pumps in and out of you, curling so deliciously at your sweet spot and he marvels at the way your cunt is greedily sucking in his fingers. There’s nothing else like him, the way he stretches you and reaches the deeper parts and hits the bits you can’t yourself. He adores the breathless sighs and mewls of his name when he pushes you to the edge even more while kissing you senselessly.

“You sound beautiful. I love the way my name tastes on your lips.” You can feel him smirk against you, but you’re too immersed in your pleasure to respond in words that aren’t broken syllables. He trails open-mouth kisses down to your jawline and along the column of your neck, grazing his teeth and softly sucking on your skin until hues of velvet purple form. Your head burrows into the soft cushion of the mattress, hips squirming as your hand clutches onto his forearm from tension coiling inside you.

“M’gonna come soon, Sy—!” Your pretty moans and pants grow heavier each second, and he loves feeling your body quiver when you’re pressed under him. He’s still knuckles deep inside you with every intention of bringing you up to heaven and back down to him. After all, he doesn’t believe in doing things halfway but can’t pass an opportunity to tease his darling wife.

“You’re getting so close already? I barely got started with you, sweetie.” He chuckles lowly yet his cock twitches as precum oozes and leaks down from the slit of his tip. “Don’t hold it in now. Let go and come for me.”

He’s met with your gorgeous o-face when the euphoric bliss courses through your entire body as your walls tighten around his fingers. Your moans turn into squeals and you try to shove his hand away to soften your orgasm but he doesn’t budge from being much stronger than you. The feeling is more than you can handle when your thighs clamp together to stop his movements. But you don’t want the addictive sensation to leave just yet when he borderline overstimulates you, turning you into a trembling and writhing mess.

You barely have a moment to catch your breath when a chortle escapes you from watching him bring his fingers coated in your cum to his mouth for a curious taste. “Mm. Sweet, just as I thought. You did great, kitten.” He leans down to plant a chaste kiss on your forehead, and the first wave of your drawn-out release slowly ebbs away. “Don’t you think you deserve one more?” Sylus pulls your soaked panties down your legs and casts them aside, leaving you completely bare under his gaze.

“I should hope so. Been wanting for you to stuff me with your fat cock tonight.” You’re still a little breathless when your finger glides down his toned chest in a sensual and playful manner. He makes a content hum at the sound of that with an upward quirk of his lips.

“What a bold and resilient wife I have on my hands. As long as I have you, I’ll never be bored again.” He gladly hoists your leg to wrap around his waist and spits down, giving himself a few strokes making it slick before aligning himself to your dripping cunt. His precum mixes with the remnants of your previous climax with the heavy drag of his tip from your opening up along your clit. He revels in the way your body responds with a little spasm. “I won’t have you going back on your words now.”

The flutter of your lashes steers away from his deep and enigmatic eyes, a nervous gnaw of your lower lips as you anticipate the painful stretch from taking him. “Go slow, okay? Because you know…” He knew you were implying about his sheer size, and you feel him grab hold of your hand and press your interlaced hand against the bed beside your head.

He captures your swollen lips that feel entirely too sweet and intimate, replacing your worries with a gentle tangle of his encompassing love and adoration that seeps into your soul. “I wouldn’t dream about hurting you. That’s a promise. But you have to let me in first.” Your breath hitches when his aching tip probes your entrance, yet the tension doesn’t leave your body until he tells you to focus on him with the exchange of kisses laced with a growing insistence. “You’ll let me know if it hurts, kitten? I want to make you feel good.”

With that said, your sharp nails dig into his shoulder blade and draw red lines at the burning stretch that feels too much yet so good at the same time. Your soft sighs and whimpers fill the hazy room and he’s fucking you slowly with just the tip to help ease the initial discomfort. He searches your face every now and again making sure you’re okay before he continues, letting out a guttural moan when he slips in a little more with each thrust until he carves his way into you completely.

“You’re in too deep—hah. Feel so full and good.” You shudder when he stills his movements, throbbing cock nestled inside you to the hilt and kissing your cervix. There’s a carnal desire brewing in his stomach seeing you pinned under his weight keeping him nice and warm. He wouldn’t mind spending the entire night with you, any plans and commitments he had prior be damned the moment you swayed in through the double doors. “Want you to m-move, please.”

The sound of your polite begging makes him twitch involuntarily, and he could only imagine what desperate pleas you have in store for him tonight and he’s looking forward to it. When your pretty lips implore him to fuck you faster and harder he won’t be able to hold back. After all, he has always been ready and waiting to give himself to you that aligns with your willingness to accept him. There is no love purer than his, this craving he has reserved only for you. “You know you only have to ask, and I’ll give you everything you want. Just be careful what you wish for, sweetie.”

Sylus chuckles at your cute whine shortly after—such a needy little thing you are. He falls into a sweet and slow rhythm that makes you feel each thrust, the head of his dick down to its shape and following the shaft that caresses the underside of your pleasure endings so incredibly good. Your legs wrap around his back and you pull him in deeper because close just isn’t close enough for you. You need to feel the heat of his body sear against your skin as you hold him, and in turn you feel him squeeze your interlaced hand. “Tonight, you’re all mine. Forget anyone else in the world but me.”

[thewispsings]

PR nightmare | oscar piastri

paring: oscar piastri x singer!reader

summary: y/n is considered a pr nightmare. let’s watch her get into her first relationship.

notes: yet another repost from my old account, i tired to make it exactly the same, enjoy!

— y/n has posted new pictures!

liked by mclaren, f1, yourbrother, and 737,938 others!

yoursername: my manger told me to tell you guys that the illuminati is NOT real and i was just joshing around !! 😂👍👍😂

view comments below!

user1: ugh this is SO BELIEVABLE

user2: | WAS WAITING FOR THIS POST

user3: yeah let's all ignore the "i wrote songs about an f1 driver!!!!"

user4: the pictures 😭

yourmomsuser: pic credits?

yoursername: you're like 60 why do you know what pic credits are ??

user5: the illuminati is totally real 🙄

mclaren: 👀

yourusername: NO THIS IS SO EMBARRASSING PLS LOOK AWAY

user6: no offense, but how did you stumble across F2 oscar???

yourusername: my brother is like a HUGE f1, 2, AND 3 nerd and he always forces me to watch races with him 😣

yourbrothersuser: you literally ask me to tell you when oscar's back on the screen???

yourusername: okay kill yourself????

yourbrothersuser: @/yourmomsuser

yourusername: GOD YOU ARE SUCH A SNITCH

ynupdates: y/n and her brother; jacob, were seen at the airport earlier today, she later posted the picture on the right, on her story, confirming that she is in fact traveling. y/n has no shows coming up, and she rarely travels with jacob. thoughts?

view comments below!

user7: guys guys..the monaco grand prix in literally in two days.

user8: SHES GOING TO THE GRAND PRIX. I KNOW IT.

user9: why's her brother kinda??

user10: you can't even see his face 😭😭?

user9: I CAN JUST TELL

user11: everyone saying she's going to the grand prix are like getting my hopes up??????

user12: WATCH HER GO SOMEWHERE COMPLETELY DIFFERENT 😭

user13: okay guys..but we never talked about what songs could be about oscar

user14: IVE DONE SO MUCH THINK ABOUT THIS!!!

user13: GIRL PLEASE TELL

user14: OKAY OKAY!! one that REALLY stands out to me is "my love mine all mine" because, we all know y/n has never had a boyfriend before, SO when she writes love songs, obviously people speculate that she's in a relationship

user14: WHEN SHE WAS ASKED ABOUT THE INSPIRATION FOR "my love mine all mine" she said "i sadly do not have a boyfriend yet. but there is someone i've had my eye on for some time." SHE COULD HAVE BEEN TALKING ABOUT OSCAR AND WE DIDNT EVEN NOTICE

user15: istg if y/n doesn't show up in the paddock tomorrow, i will throw a fit.

liked by mclaren, f1, yourbrother, and 837,938 others!

yourusername: i could tell you where i am and what im doing, but its funny reading the theories

view comments below !

user15: are you going to a secret illuminati meeting user16: pls y/n pls just tell us

user17: this is cruel AND YOU KNOW IT

user18: pls lord, let y/n go to the monaco grand prix🙏🙏

user19: there's no way she ISNT going to the grand prix, i mean she's with her brother, and he's literally like the biggest f1 fan ever?? why else would they be traveling together

user20: maybe they're traveling together because they're siblings😭😭 ?? it doesn't have to connect to f1

yourbrothersuser: y/n pls put the phone down. i need a good nights rest for tomorrow.

user21: TOMORROW ???? IS ??? THE ???? GRAND ??? PRIX ??? ARE ???? YOU ??? GUYS ???? GOING ????

ynupdates: it seems like the rumors are true! y/n and jacob are currently at the grand prix!

view comments below!

user 22: 1 FUCKING KNEW IT

user23: everyone knew it...

user24: WHOO CAREEESSS oscar and y/n interaction WHEN ???

user25: ugh i NEED grid x y/n interactions RN

user26: y/n this, oscar that. WHAT I NEED IS TO SEE Y/NS BROTHER MEET MAX

user27: omg can you imagine how happy he is rn

— mclaren has posted new photos!

liked by yourusername, f1, yourbrother, landonorris, oscarpiastri and 837,938 others!

mclaren: monaco was a dream! thank you y/n for joining us view comments below!

view comments below!

user28: 1 SHOULVE BEEN THERE. I COULDVE METY/N. THAT SHOULDVE BEEN ME.

yourusername: thank you for having me🧡

user29: okay now make oscar and y/n kiss

yourbrothersuser: thank you for making my dream come true 🙏🙏

redbullracing: @/yourusername our garage next

yourusername: i think @/yourbrothersuser would enjoy that more then i ever could

redbullracing: he's always welcome to join 💙

yourbrothersuser: AHHHHHH OMG OMG

user30: okay now more grid x y/n content

user31: the way this became like a meet and greet for y/n was INSANE

user32: who would've thought there would be so many y/n fans at a F1 race??

user33: everyone's a y/n l/n fan.

— y/n has posted new photos!

liked by, mclaren, landonorris, oscarpiastri 763,928 others!

yourusername: do you think he'll try weed with me now that he's my boyfriend?

view comments below !

user34: EXCUSE ME BOYFRIEND???

user35: OMG Y/N GOT HER FIRST BOYFRIEND!! АННННН

user36: OSCAR AND Y/N??? HELL YEAH

user37: okay let's just pretend that doesn't say what it says 😭

yourmanger: y/n please change that caption.

yourusername: i don't know how ☹️

user38: WHO CARES ABOUT THE CAPTION!!! Y/N AND OSCAR SHIPPERS RISE

mclaren: in case that caption isn't a joke, y/n please refrain from getting our drivers high.

yourusername: YOU GUYS ARE NO FUNN

user39: i love how public y/n is. like she genuinely acts like she doesn't have millions of followers

oscarpiastri: love i already told you, we cant get high.

yourusername: YOU WOULD IF YOU LOVED ME.

maxverstappen1: i'll get high with you y/n 🙋‍♂️

redbullracing: no you will not.

[cakemoney]

like my life is a series of [becomes interested in something] [becomes depressed and the depression sucks all joy out of the interest] [abandons interest because there's no energy for being interested in stuff and there's no reward anyway] [becomes interested in something different] [becomes depressed again--] but i didn't even have time to develop a new interest this time around so I'm just losing interest in random mundane stuff, like eating

[forzalando]

Orange Theory

Charles Leclerc x best friend!reader (female reader)

summary: charles and his best friend do countless nice things for each other, but they're just behaving like any good friend would. right? wc: 2.5k author's note: ok guys so this is not the Charles fic i promised (she is still a WIP and i will finish her eventually. probably will have to be a multi-part fic with how long it's getting), but i hope you enjoy this one in the meantime! special thanks to @scuderiahoney for encouragement and inspiration. special thanks to @sof1shticated for reading and assuring me this doesn't suck. if you haven't read their fics, both Lee and Mel have some gems that i adore. HIGHLY recommend checking out their masterlists! warnings: none!

You loved summer break – Charles was home for at least a few weeks, days spent on a yacht, every afternoon and evening spent with friends either at dinner or out at some club until someone got too drunk to carry on.

Today was, in your humble opinion, the perfect day. All of your friends, courtesy of Charles, were sprawled out on the sun deck of a rented boat or splashing around in the water below. You could feel the heat radiating off of Lando as he laid next to you and whispered about how McLaren was making insane upgrades – according to him, they might just have a race-winning car in the second half of the season.

“Are you boring my best friend to tears, Norris?” The brutal sun disappeared behind Charles’ body as he stood above you – as if on instinct, he shifted slightly so that you could look up at him and not be blinded by its rays.

“She’s hanging on my every word, right, Y/N? In fact, she asked me how I’m feeling about Zandvoort and the rest of the season.”

“And?” Charles asked, a small smile on his face.

“Like I would tell you what’s going on with the car! I know Y/N can keep a secret, she would never betray me to a prancing horse. She bleeds papaya.”

You laughed along with Lando – the one point of contention that had always existed in your friendship with Charles. Of course, you became a Ferrari fan because of him, but you’d always been a McLaren and Mercedes loyalist. It was something that Lando, Oscar, and George relished in.

“Alright, alright, no need to rub it in, Norris,” you giggled. “What can I do for you, Charlie?”

“I just came to give you this.”

Within seconds, a perfectly peeled orange dropped in your lap. Lando’s eyes grew wide for a moment but a swift glare from Charles had his face back to normal in no time. You missed the interaction, jumping up from your seat in excitement.

“Aw, Charlie! You are the best friend a girl could ask for,” you chirped as you started separating the wedges of fruit.

“Ah, don’t mention it,” he sighed, waving his citrus-scented hand in the air. “There’s more in the cooler if you want! Freshly peeled!”

“Thank you, mon cher ami.” You quickly kissed his cheek, noticing as you pulled away just how red it was, along with his neck and the tips of his ears. “Charles! How many times do I have to tell you to put on sunscreen? Your face and neck are fried!”

“I don’t think it’s from the sun,” Lando mumbled, his eyes trained on the fruit in your hands. With Charles insisting he was fine, you could barely hear what he had said.

“What did you say, Lan?” You asked, turning your attention away from Charles for a moment.

Once again, Lando was met with a menacing glare and he laughed awkwardly before moving his gaze to the horizon.

“Nothing, nothing, Y/N. Just thinking out loud.”

Shrugging your shoulders, you turned back to Charles and handed him the orange he had just given to you. With your now free hands, you rifled through your beach bag until you found the SPF 50 face cream you had packed that morning with Charles in mind.

“Here, I packed this for you. Please put some on so I don’t have to worry about you getting sun poisoning,” you pleaded with your best puppy dog eyes.

Charles stared without answering for far too long – anything you wanted, all you had to do was ask him and he’d do it. Even without you gazing at him with your wide, siren eyes, he would give you the world if you so desired it.

He shook his head slightly, pulling himself out of the daze caused by your pleading eyes. “Oui, ma fleur, I will put on the sun cream. Je promets.”

You smiled in triumph, taking the orange back from Charles and bidding him a “see you later” before laying back down in your lounger. Popping an orange slice into your mouth, you let out a contented sigh. Somehow, whether Charles was magic or he had some serious connections in the produce world, the fruit he picked out and gave to you always tasted better than anything you bought yourself.

“He peels your oranges for you?”

You hummed and turned to Lando – “what, Lan?”

“Does Charles always peel your oranges for you?”

“Well, no, obviously not always. Why?”

Before Lando could answer, Lily plopped down next to you and stole an orange slice from your hand.

“I swear,” she huffed, “Alex and George are competitive to begin with, but when they get together, it’s unbearable. They’ve been having a “who can hold their breath the longest” contest for the past thirty minutes! Rematch after rematch after rematch, I called in my favor with Oscar to get out of judging their little competition.”

“As if either of them could beat me, they probably didn’t ask me to join because they’re scared,” Lando bragged. “I’ll leave you ladies to chat, go show them how it’s done.”

As Lando walked towards the edge of the boat, you and Lily turned towards one another.

“Men,” you scoffed in unison, following it up with belly laughs and lingering giggles.

As the laughter died down, Lily ate the orange slice she had stolen from you and practically moaned in delight. “Where did you get this orange? It might be the best I’ve ever had!”

“It’s from Charles! I was just thinking about this, I don’t know how he does it but he always has the best fruit. Every time he brings me any I am both ecstatic and pissed off – my fruit is never as good as his and we shop at the same grocery store!”

“Well, does he have any more oranges? I could eat 20 of these.”

“He said he left me more in his cooler, let me grab them.”

A few moments later, you walked back to Lily with a bag of peeled oranges in your right hand and two bottles of water in your left.

“Are you a professional orange peeler? You were only gone for two minutes.”

“Oh no,” you giggled, “Charles peeled them for me. He knows I don’t like peeling them so when he can, he always does it for me.”

“Y/N,” Lily looked at you suspiciously, “do you know what the orange peel theory is?”

You wracked your brain but came up empty. “No, what is it?”

Lily went into a brief explanation – something about how it became a viral tik tok challenge, people asking their partners if they would peel an orange for them and how it was an indicator of true love, soulmates, a healthy relationship, and everything in between. “Well, that’s just silly,” you mumbled through chews, orange juice dribbling down your chin. “I think it just means someone is a good person – Charlie and I aren’t anything more than friends and he peels my oranges, among other things, because he has a good heart.”

“Among other things?” Lily pressed you, her eyes gleaming with something you couldn’t quite place.

“He slices my apples because I have never been able to master the apple corer contraption! And he takes all my grapes off the stems when he’s at my place because I never do – it’s too tedious.”

“What else?”

“Oh, when we go out to breakfast, he always brings me a tea when he picks me up. He’s an early riser and I take forever to get ready. He knows I never have time to make it myself when we have plans before 10am.”

Lily was smirking at you, no, smiling at you. It was a little unnerving, the way she was entirely amused at the information you were giving her. However, the moment was briefly interrupted by the arrival of Alex.

“What are we talking about, ladies?” He spoke cheerfully, a broad smile on his face which meant that he was most likely declared the best breath holder of the 2019 rookies.

“Y/N was just telling me about all the sweet things Charles does for her,” Lily gushed.

“Oh god, when is he not doing things for her? Did you see him buttering her bread for her at dinner last week?”

Lily burst out laughing while you playfully punched Alex’s arm. “I’m indecisive! He butters it for me while I read the menu since it takes me so long to figure out what I want to order. It saves time!”

“He does that on a regular basis?” Alex asked incredulously, looking at Lily with wide eyes. “My god, that man is head over heels.”

“Alex,” you protested, “Charles is not in love with me. We’ve been friends for six years, I think I would know by now.”

“You’re both impossible,” Alex groaned. “Come on, Lily, I just came over to get you so we could play water polo with George and Carmen.”

Lily sighed in defeat, though she had a smile on her face at the thought of spending time with Alex even if it meant another competition. “I’ll see you, later, yeah?” She called over her shoulder, waving goodbye as you teased her by dramatically eating another slice of orange and settling back in your chair. At the front of the boat, Charles was laughing with Pierre and almost as if he felt you looking, he turned around and met your gaze.

Even though you had just wholly denied anything more than friendship between you and him, you couldn’t help but think about your interactions with Lily and Alex.

Sure, Charles sometimes did things that were out of the ordinary for ‘just friends’, but he had the sweetest soul of anyone you’d ever met. He always sacrificed his umbrella or jacket for you, made sure you had fresh tulips in your apartment when he was home in between races, had your favorite meal delivered to you when you were having a rough day while he was away and you missed him.

You did things for him too – cleaned his apartment when you knew he was on his way back to Monaco, left him plenty of sticky notes with words of encouragement if he was coming back from a bad race, stocked his fridge full of his favorite things. Recently, you’d been gifting him annotated books because he mentioned he wanted to read more and always enjoyed listening to you talk about your favorite novels. Since you spent most of the year apart, you decided he could at least read your thoughts.

When you could come to races, unfortunately a rare occurrence due to your graduate classes and work schedule, he made sure Ferrari hospitality had your favorite flavor of sparkling water on hand. Anytime you saw a cute dog video, you would send it to him because they always made him smile.

You’d do anything to make him smile, just as he would for you, which is what a good friend would do. A best friend, it’s what a best friend would do.

But best friends didn’t linger in doorways and stare at each other’s lips when bidding each other goodnight. They didn’t cuddle close and fall asleep in each other’s arms on a couch while watching whatever movie you had chosen because he always let you choose.

They didn’t look at one another the way Charles was looking at you now – his sunglasses pushed up on top of his head and a dopey smile on his face. He waved to you and dramatically blew you a kiss, something he always did when he caught your eye across a room, no matter who was around.

You practically launched yourself to your feet, the last remaining orange slices in your lap falling to the lounger and staining the seat with juice. It was only seconds until you were standing in front of Charles but the walk over felt like an eternity with the way the world around you disappeared and your heart pounded in your chest.

“Est-ce que tu maimes, Charles?”

The question came out in one breath, your chest heaving in anticipation for his response.

“Of course, I love you, ma fleur,” he laughed. “What’s gotten into you?”

“No,” you panted. “Do you love me, Charlie? Est-ce que tu maimes?”

“Of course, I love you,” he answered again, his eyes shining and a small smile on his face that told you everything you needed to know. “Every time I think of you, I love you. Every time I breathe, I love you.”

“Every time you peel my oranges?” You whispered, holding up your orange juice-stained fingertips. He took your right hand in his and held it up to his face to kiss your palm, his eyelashes fluttering against you gently.

“Especially when I peel your oranges. Did you know that I hate doing it too? Like, really hate it. I don’t even peel them for myself.”

You gasped in shock, watching as he threw his head back and laughed jovially.

“I’d do anything for you, ma fleur. Mon soleil. Mon cœur.”

“Would you kiss me?”

“Maybe if Pierre would leave and stop gawking at us.”

This time you threw your head back to laugh, Charles soon joining you as Pierre protested the accusation.

“No, no,” he shouted, “you didn’t even give me a chance to leave. Just started declaring your love before I knew what was happening. Which, by the way, was so obvious it was starting to get annoying. We’ve all tried dropping hints to both of you so I don’t know who got through to you, Y/N, but – ”

“Pierre!” You shouted, eyes wide and arm gesturing him away from the two of you.

“Ah, désolé, I’m leaving,” he grumbled, almost tripping over his own feet to get away as quickly as possible.

You giggled again and Charles gripped your chin softly, pulling your eyes away from Pierre and back to face him.

He leaned in gently, as if he was afraid you would back away and regret taking the leap to go from friends to something so much more.

He tasted like salt water, smelled like sweet fruit and sunscreen – you smiled into the kiss knowing that he had listened to you and put it on, even though you knew he hated the way it felt on his skin.

His fingers gripped your waist and yours trailed up his chest – both of you slightly sticky from the citrus juices and sweat from the sun.

You pulled away and nudged his nose with yours, breathing him in and wishing that this moment would never end. Charles lowered you both to the sun deck, adjusting until you were sitting between his legs and his arms were wrapped firmly around you, the two of you facing the sunset and open sea.

After a few moments, you broke the shared silence. “You know, I would have happily peeled an orange for you if you had ever asked me,” you asserted.

Charles’ hold on you softened at your admission, the thinly veiled meaning not at all lost on him as he pressed his lips to your cheek.

“I love you too, Y/N.”