#possessive little gay bastard | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

orbital-obvious · 3 months ago

Text

Throwing my hat to the Team Black/Green Discourse

I'm bad bound due to shoulder pain, and I've been reading Team Black/Green takes and you guys, it's so fun. Here are my personal takes:

While exploring the changes from the book (and the reasons those changes were made) is interesting in a meta way, you can't assume book only details apply to show characters. What you see is what you get, for better or for worse

The show clearly favors Rhaenyra and tries to weave this "girlboss won't let the MEN put her down" narrative, and at the same time does her a great disservice because Rhaenyra and her faction are boring as fuck as a result. The greens faults are not only acknowledged but highlighted - which make them more interesting, human, and multidimentional, but then again the narrative goes and minimizes their fears and hurt, so, well, double edged sword.

Aegon only cares for his legitimate children. I also don't think the greens as half as unified as they are precived to be.

The question of "Did Aemond steel Vaghar?" is actually "are dragons property?" with extra steps.

Aegon was a usurper, and the Greens (Otto, if we're real) used the inherent misogyny of Westeros to instill him on the throne.

WITH THAT BEING SAID, I have a hard time thinking Rhaenyra is this feminist queen. It's freedom for Rhaenyra, and maybe other women with dragons. I think it makes Rhaenyra a better character, actually.

How can Alicent or her children trust Rhaenyra which never acknowledged that Luke maimed Aemond, and acutally DEMANDED Aemond to be further hurt via questioning? The messege in Driftmark was clear: Rhaenyra (and by extention, her children) are more important than you, they can hurt you, maim you, even kill you, and you will STILL be at fault. There's an element of survival in the Green's usurpation, not only greed.

Rhaenyra suffers from misogyny. I don't think she would have no problem ascending the throne if she were a man and she is one of the most privileged people in the realm, but there are challenges she faces for the crime of being a woman alone.

I don't think Alicent thought that by serving the patriarchy she'll be the exepction - not consciously, anyway. I think this requires an understanding she does not possess. and, again, Rhaenyra being put on the throne isn't a big win to all women, just Rhaenyra. To side with Rhaenyra meant siding against her family -that was Alicent's decision in my eyes. The world is bleak and one must use any power that they have - same way Targaryan used dragons, Alicent + greens used the built in sociatal norms.

I don't know who needs to hear this, Aemond is not a little kid anymore. I'm not saying his life is perfect and no one is mistreating him, but he is not defenseless and he does have that cruel streak to him and he did very much undermines his brother, grandfather, and mother.

Aegon is implosive, Rhaenyra hardly acts. Aegon coronation started the war, and his decisions have propelled the war forward . Rhaenyra refusal to act pushed team black into a position where the only advantage they had was dragons, ergo, they had to get dragons involved and voila- bloodshed.

Daemon would not have let the Greens live, even if they had bent the knee. TBF, Daemon would probably find a way to kill Rhaenyra's older children to put his on the throne. "Rhaenyra would never allow this!" Rhaenyra can't control Daemon. We've seen it time and time again.

I really hate the "Rhaenyra put her children at risk because their bastards". Rhaenyra was married to a gay (possibly infertile) man and if she had no heirs of her own, it itself would weaken her claim more than having bastards (ask if most of the realm would know or even give a shit they are not legitimate - that's mostly house Valeryon's problem and people in their immidiate surroundings that see it as "immoral").

No, Rhaenyra did not put her children at risk for having bastards. She put her chidlren at risk by having trueborn, perfectly blond and Targeryan children with Daemon.

I said it in my last post, I'll say that again: Raehnyra fucking off to an undercover mission in King's Landing and not telling ANYONE about it was a dumb move in a list of dumb move. She essentially left her side without a ruler at a time of WAR, not to mention the panic of a queen being gone closely after an assassination attempt on her life that was barely stopped.

Alicent was one of the most powerful people (if not the most powerful) in the years leading up to Viserys death, practically running the kingdom while Rhaenyra never visited even once. Alicent was changing Kings landing in her own image (changing Targ decoration for the Seven symbolism). Alicent had power, authority and the ability to rule that neither Rhaenyra nor Rhaenys exhibited.

Viserys failed Rhaenyra for not teaching her how to cement her throne and make connections and allies. Rhaenyra grew into an adult who never had to fight for what she was given, a so called heir who sceluded herself in Dragonstone and never bothered to cement her claim which she would have needed to do even if she was born a man. The cycle continues, with the hints she never worried about securing Jace's spot or his legitimecy (Jace wanted to learn high Valerian and was clearly concerened, Rhaenyra doesn't see the issue and that itself is a problem)

Honestly kudos for Jace for securing the North/Vale. The show paints supporting Rhaenyra as "the right thing" and we never got to see Jace working and using his diplomatic skills. God forbid the boy will have a personality.

Criston Cole was a man of ethnic minority (Dornish, most cast is Andal/Valerian) from lower class and the power imbalance with Rhaenyra would not have flown if the roles would've been reversed. She pushed him to sully his own life work (becoming kingsguard) and he is right to be hurt about her not taking it as seriously as him - she does not have to face consequences, he does. I'm not even talking about the weird state of consent of the relations between them.

WITH THAT BEING SAID, that does NOT justify Criston Cole calling Rheanyra "Whore" and "Cunt". He uses her gender to hurt her - the only power imbalance in his favour in this relationship is him being a man and her being a woman, and he weaponizes it. "but it's accurate to the society he lives in!" cool, the society is shit.

There's probably more, but I'm tired and need to lie down. So. yeah. Feel free to comment, I'm interested in others thought about it.

#HOTD opinion #HOTD #House of the dragon #Team black #team green #I play both teams so I'll always lose #rhaenyra targaryen #alicent hightower #aemond targaryen #aegon ii targaryen #criston cole

62 notes · View notes

animasola86 · 11 months ago

Text

Smutmas: Take your anger (and stick it where the sun don't shine!)

Pairing: Sebastian Sallow x m!reader

Genre: Angst/Smut // Words: 3.9k // [Read on AO3]

Warnings: NSFW! MDNI! Explicit sexual content! Hate sex, oral, anal, mutual masturbation, double the amount of dicks!

Synopsis: You and Sebastian are both flawed boys and there is only one way to let out that pent-up frustration.

Notes: Beware: I am entering my explicit gay porn era! But hear me out: I, as the author, identify as female (and do not possess any male genitalia), and I believe most of my audience does too, but I wanted to try something new, so here we go. Don't worry, I did my research, yet I hope it was enough to convey what is going on.

Last warning: There's gay smut below! Read at your own risk!

Take your anger (and stick it where the sun don't shine)

“You insufferable little shit!” you could hear Sebastian's voice behind you. As you turned around, you saw him stomping right at you. You recognised his angry stance immediately.

“What did I do?” you asked innocently, putting your hands on your hips as you waited for him to reach you. You wondered how you angered the Slytherin this time (until the memory came back to you), though it didn't really matter either way, because when he stopped right in front of you, he glared at you out of dark eyes, working his jaw, and then grabbed your tie and pulled you unceremoniously after him. “Hey, easy!” you tried again as you stumbled along but to no avail.

Moments later, you found yourself being pushed into an empty classroom, heard the door being closed and enchanted, so no one would disturb you. You should have been more surprised, or even alarmed, but you knew the drill. This wasn't the first time Sebastian Sallow took his anger out on you.

Frankly, you were kind of hoping he would find you after you had convinced Madam Scribner that it had been Sebastian who was responsible for a bookshelf to collapse and burst into flames in the library the other day – when it had been you all along because you were still struggling to control that blasted ancient magic coursing through your veins, and sometimes things just happened, mostly destructive things.

And because it was easier to distract yourself rather than to deal with a problem head-on, a notion you certainly shared with the brunet pinning you to the wall right now, you often found yourself in his presence when you needed to take care of the steam threatening to burst free.

“You landed me a week in detention!” he growled and stared at you.

You raised your eyebrows. “Only a week? She threatened to expel me if I didn't tell --”

“So you admit that you blamed me? For something you did, presumably? You bastard!” Sebastian grunted and grabbed your shoulder to turn you around, pressing your chest against the wall. “You could have just asked to spend time together, you know?” he added in a lower voice as his hand slipped down the front of your breeches, his fingers expertly gliding over the stiff fabric.

He was right of course. You started doing those stunts to see him, meet him in detention, meet him anywhere really, because you couldn't think of anyone else who you could share your anger and frustration with than the boy behind you. You'd been to hell and back together these last years, and somehow when things got really bad, you always found yourself next to him, very, very close to him.

If anyone had ever told you that you would feel the most relaxed with another boy's dick up your arse, then you would have laughed and felt ashamed and frankly would not have believed them. But it was true. Anger sex was your go-to method of calming down again.

So you forced yourself to play along, counter his rage, defy it as best as you could with your cock already throbbing against the tight confines of your trousers. Even though your frustration had been running high these last days, causing the outburst in the library, you felt your own anger deflating the moment you felt Sebastian's hand palming your crotch roughly. Actually you always seemed to ease up the moment you saw his warm eyes on you or heard his voice in your ear.

Yet you'd never tell him how he made you feel, you wanted him to hate you, you wanted the unbridled wrath he could unleash upon you. So you kept pranking him, teasing him, angering him in any way or form. Because deep down you knew he needed it as well. He needed someone to handle the conflicting emotions running through him, chewing on his insides, destroying him slowly from within, ever since things went downhill in your fifth year.

Sebastian had lost everything that year and had found himself in a very dark place that only you had been brave enough to enter. Mainly because you were there too, for different reasons, but you still shared the rage coursing through your veins. The grief, the anger, the disappointment, the feeling of being all alone in the world, trying to shoulder things you were too young and inexperienced to handle.

It had been the end of the year, everyone had been exhilarated to celebrate the House Cup, to leave Hogwarts for the summer holidays, but you had found yourself huddled away, still in disbelief that you had lost your mentor and that everyone else seemed to have forgotten about it rather quickly. The battle of Hogwarts was no longer on the front pages, everyone had moved on. Yet you couldn't, because you still felt the energy pulsing through you of when you had absorbed Isidora's corrupted magic.

While you had tried to figure out what to do next now that the Keepers had abandoned you for defying them, you had met another lost soul in the dimly lit hallway. Sebastian had still been dealing with the loss and abandonment of his sister, the broken friendship with Ominis and the outrage that had killed his uncle, so when you two had met each other in the shadows while everyone else celebrated the end of the year, you had quickly found yourself in a dark corner, with no word spoken between you as he had rammed his cock into your underprepared arse.

The pain had numbed your anger, and quickly you had become addicted to the sensation. And now, two years later, you had made it a habit of completely driving him insane, bring out his rage, to feel it all over again. You both knew why you'd do it also and somehow he still played along, though you knew he was secretly impressed by your creativity of finding new ways to get him to hate you.

“Where's the fun in just asking you out?” you muttered back as he proceeded to grope you through your breeches. “You know I hate being boring...”

“Oh I know you do,” he grunted into your ear as he pressed his groin against your arse. “Can't do anything the normal way...”

“What's normal anyway?” you whispered as your hand moved around to grab at his thigh. “Definitely not this...”

“No, definitely not this,” he repeated and you could feel his hot breath on your neck as he leaned in to bite at your pulse. You couldn't help but wince when his teeth nibbed at your sensitive skin and frankly you were past hiding all those little twitches he was able to coax out of you.

“It wouldn't be the same,” you started, taking another sharp breath as you felt his fingers undoing your buttons before slipping into the newly created opening to tease at your dick. “I can't even imagine doing this normally with you. What would that look like? Would you buy me flowers and treat me to a nice meal? Out on a cosy date in Hogsmeade for everyone to see? Would you --”

“For Merlin's sake, shut up already!” he grunted, pushing you against the wall as he let go of you. You couldn't help the smirk from playing around the corner of your lips. He saw it when he suddenly spun you around by the shoulders once more, glaring at you out of those dark eyes that made you weak in the knees (not that you would have ever admitted to that). “You really like to hear yourself talk, eh?”

You scoffed and merely glared back at him. Shaking his head, he then grabbed your waist and forced your breeches down, your undergarments with it, and when you stood in front of him, literally butt naked, it was his turn to smirk at you. With his hand on your shoulder, he pushed you down until you were on your knees, looking up with your smug expression unfaltering.

“Look at you,” he muttered, tilting his head. “You pathetic little worm, kneeling in front of me with your trousers down like a bloody whore. Use that damn mouth of yours for better things, why don't you!”

Your hands were at the buttons of his breeches before he even stopped talking down at you. Undoing them with nimble fingers, you quickly freed his hardening erection from its confines and grabbed it roughly, causing him to stumble slightly. He shot you an even darker glance, but didn't say anything as he watched you do what you seemed to be doing best, at least in his eyes.

Leaning in with your eyes fixed on his freckled face, you gave his shaft a long skim of your tongue, taking in every single little reaction you caused in him. One hand moved up to cup his balls and give them a tight squeeze before you grabbed his length with the other and stroked it expertly as you focused the movement of your tongue to his tip, circling and lapping at it, sucking and nibbling on his sensitive skin until you heard the first little groan escaping him.

The sound vibrated through your entire body and you leaned back and watched him curiously, licking your lips as you did so. Your hand kept moving, firmly pushing his skin up and down, until you pressed your thumb to his slit and forced the first droplets of precum out of him. A shiver rushed through him and you saw him clenching his fists at his sides.

You leaned back in and closed your lips around the agitated crown of his cock, tasting and smelling that special musk you cherished so much, that would make your own body shudder in excitement. Of course you held back for now, focusing on him while your own dick stood tall and proud, bumping against your lower stomach with every bob of your head as you pushed yourself onto him and took him into your mouth as deep as possible.

As you felt him pressing against the back of your throat, you closed your eyes and held your breath, but you fought your gag reflex for now and pushed further until your nose was buried in his curly hairs. He grunted loudly as you forced his tip into your tight throat and when you leaned back again, you spluttered slightly and wiped a strand of saliva off your lips as you looked up at him.

He watched you darkly as you continued stroking him with a firm grasp, before you dove back in and repeated the same motion over and over again, each time holding him longer and deeper in your throat until you felt your eyes watering and his body shuddering more and more.

“Fuck!” he spat and grabbed your shoulders in support, his fingers digging into your shirt as he jerked his hips against your face.

You relished in his noises and involuntarily reactions as you kept bobbing your head on him, moving with the slight bucking of his hips, feeling him hardening to the point more and more precum leaked out of his tip. You lapped at it hungrily, the wet slurping noises filling the empty classroom.

Suddenly he gripped your hair and pulled you off him, red spots dancing on his cheeks as he stared down at you. “Get up and turn around,” he told you gruffly and you got to your feet and did what he told you, your trousers still pooling around your ankles as he positioned himself behind you.

He pushed his hard erection between your cheeks and leaned around you, grabbing your previously unattended dick with a fierce grip as he started stroking you, his chin resting on your shoulder, his shallow breaths right in your ear. You couldn't help the shivers running down your spine at the sensations and the little moan escaping your slightly aching throat. Closing your eyes, you leaned into his touch, even pushed your rear against him invitingly.

Not that Sebastian Sallow needed a formal invitation to do anything, he always took what he wanted, and right now, it was to drive his cock into your arse. With one hand on your dick, giving you those needed pumps, his other hand moved around your left butt cheek, groping and kneading it until he teased his thumb against the tight ring of muscles. You inhaled sharply when he pushed past the resistance and forced his digit in deeper.

You felt your legs trembling when he poked around until he pressed firmly against your prostate, coaxing a deep grunt out of you that made you stumble against his touch. You almost came right in his hand there, but then he pulled his thumb out and even let go of your dick, before grabbing your hips and guiding you back towards his cock.

Swallowing hard, you realized you were never really prepared for his intrusion and even though he had gotten better at making it less painful over the last years, it would still always take your breath away when he would fill your arse. This time he pushed his tip firmly against your tight hole and you inhaled deeply, trying to relax, before he used a sharp snap of his hips to push his length all the way into you until you felt his balls slapping against your sensitive skin.

A groan escaped you and you had to put your hands on the wall in front of you in support as he dug his fingers into your hips and just rested there for a moment, buried deep in your bum, giving you the chance to adjust to his size. He had gotten softer for sure, you thought, the Sebastian from two years ago wouldn't have given a damn about how much pain he would inflict on you, he might even have opted to make you suffer more than was necessary.

But this version of the boy behind you seemed to listen for your noises, wait for the shudders of your body to subside, before he finally started moving. Slowly retreating, until his tip was gripped by your tight entrance, then pushing back in with a quick jerk of his hips, back and forth, over and over again until you heard yourself moaning louder.

His hands were on your waist as the slapping of skin against skin filled your ears and all you could feel was the relentless rhythm of his cock sliding in and out of your arse and his pelvis slamming against your cheeks. You were groaning and moaning in unison now, a low rumble of noises mixing with the sounds of your bodies pushing together.

You felt light-headed quickly, but even in your haze, you felt the need to lower a hand and grab onto your own dick to release a little bit of that tension. Yet at the same time he had slowed his movements and leaned around to grab it too, your hands touching involuntarily. Despite the rather rough nature of your 'love making', it still sent pleasant shivers down your spine when his fingers would brush against yours, be it in class or the library when you reached for the same book, or in the middle of having him rail you into the wall, it always felt exhilarating.

Instead of withdrawing or slapping your hand away, he slipped his fingers between yours and guided them towards your cock so you started to stroke your throbbing member together. More moans escaped your throat and you couldn't help but lean your head against his shoulder as you felt your balls tightening under the combined ministrations of your hands.

He buried himself deep in your clenching arse and started grinding his hips slowly, pushing his girth against your sensitive muscles and all the right spots. You grunted deeply, biting your lip as all the sensations at once caused your dick to twitch in your combined hold. He seemed to notice your struggle to move on your own, so he kept stroking you fiercely, his own grunts loud in your ear, and when you came with a low growl, he wrapped his arm around your stomach and held you close, keeping you steady as you felt thick ropes of cum spurting out of your tip and dripping down both of your hands.

He let you rest for a small moment, holding you tightly as you leaned against him, his breath hot on your cheek as he turned his head towards you. You watched him out of the corner of your eye, panting badly, and when your eyes met, there seemed to be another one of those unspoken agreements you both had perfected over the last years.

You saw him smirk and then he let go of you and pushed you back against the wall, his hands on your hips, before he continued to move inside you once more, slow at first, but then faster and faster, as he drove himself deeper and deeper into your tight space with reckless abandon. Your noises of quiet whimpers and deep moans mixed with his grunts and the never-ending slapping of skin against skin when he fell into a rapid rhythm of slamming his hips against your cheeks.

There was the power you had needed, the raw emotion, the unbridled rage, as he rammed his cock into you at an impressively fast and deep rhythm, his length and girth stretching and prodding your muscles with each powerful thrust. You fought against the sensation, forcing your legs to stop trembling beneath you, your entire body tense from the experience.

But this was what you had wanted, all of it, and you craved the pain that came when your muscles started contracting around him, working against you instead of with you. You could have relaxed and let him have it, it would have been so easy, but you were too stubborn and frankly quite the masochist, because you needed every aching muscle, every screaming nerve, every burning sensation.

It was the only thing that kept you from losing your mind. And so you gritted your teeth and strained your arms against the wall as he kept rocking your body back and forth, over and over again, his grunts mixing with yours, as his fingers dug painfully into your hips, his balls slapping against you as his cock moved in and out relentlessly, the delicious heat of the friction driving you almost insane with pleasure.

You felt your dick harden all over again, but you couldn't give it any attention at this moment because it was Sebastian's turn to let go. With a loud growl, he gave you one final powerful thrust that rippled through your entire body as he buried himself as deep as possible before you felt his cock throbbing and twitching as he emptied himself inside your tight arse, his hot seed filling you up completely.

He kept grunting as more and more shudders rushed through him, more and more cum spurting out of him and into you, and as you savoured the warm feeling spreading inside you, you lowered a shaking hand and gave your own dick a few much needed squeezes before you came as well again, your body spasming against his as you leaned your sweaty forehead against the wall, unable to stop your legs from shaking beneath you this time.

Inhaling deeply, you tried to catch your breath, while the boy behind you leaned his entire weight on your back, his arms snaking around your stomach as he held onto you, his cock still twitching inside you. You let him have this rather tender moment and closed your eyes, but as soon as you relaxed against him and even raised a hand to put on his arm, a gesture that was usually too intimate for your liking, he retreated again, standing up straight and slowly pulling out of your clenching hole.

You let out another moan and a surprised grunt when he suddenly slapped your butt cheek with his flat hand, the pain rippling through you deliciously. It didn't however mask the emptiness you felt with his cock no longer lodged inside your bum, and without his girth, your muscles worked hard to move back into their original form, causing his seed to pump out of you relentlessly.

You rather enjoyed the warm sensation of being so full, but gravity and whatever other forces worked ruthlessly against you, leaving you to desire this whole spectacle all over again. Sighing deeply, you eventually leaned down to grab your trousers and undergarments, ready to pull them back up, but before you could do anything, you were suddenly spun around, almost stumbling against Sebastian as he pushed your bare backside against the wall, his eyes boring into yours.

Despite the intense gaze, you couldn't help but break eye contact and look down his front. His spent cock was still out, glistening in your combined juices, yet your eyes lingered on his wand in his hand. For a moment you wondered what he wanted to do, and when he grabbed your throat with his free hand you were really concerned for a second, but he only held you in place while he moved his wand over your soiled skin and cleaned your mutual messes.

You watched him intently, despite the tight grip of his fingers this might have been the gentlest gesture you witnessed him express towards you ever. He usually left you a shuddering, defiled mess (and you were there for it), but having him wash you so thoroughly, was certainly something else. When he was done, he pocketed his wand and let go of your throat, only to bend down and grab your breeches before he pulled them back up and helped you get dressed again.

You were more than confused, yet somehow oddly intrigued by this turn of events. As he grabbed your dick and shoved it back behind the confines of your trousers, you raised your hands and did the same to him. He seemed equally surprised and your eyes met for a long, heated moment. Despite sharing the most intimate desires of both of your bodies, you had never indulged in the more romantic kinds of affection, like kissing or hand holding or even hugging, in that order.

Both of you had resorted to the most extreme type of being together and never looked back, but standing before Sebastian now, staring into his dark eyes, you felt the need to take several steps back and redefine your relationship. Might also be the post-nut clarity, you weren't sure. Whatever it was, the moment quickly faded when he took a literal step back from you and tilted his head, looking you over grimly.

“Next time you need to do this, just send me an owl or something,” he told you gruffly and moved a hand through his messy hair. “I really can't have you ruin my reputation any further.”

“What reputation?” you replied with a low chuckle and a smirk. “I'm only adding to the already existing one... You did that to yourself.”

He groaned and gave you a glare, before he turned around and headed to the door. “I mean it...” he called back over his shoulder.

“I know,” you said and watched him leave. “Expect my owl then.”

Sooner than later, you wanted to add, but you didn't want to come across as too desperate. Though he probably already knew that and frankly you couldn't care less. You needed him as much as he needed you. Not just his cock up your bum, the entire package. And perhaps there was even one of those chaste kisses for you in the future, who knew.

End notes: I've always been a yaoi lover and it still took me more than seven months of being in this fandom to actually write something like this, oh well.

I was certainly channeling the snarky boy that is the male mc when writing this, I can just hear his voice taunting Seb.

Again I took inspiration from this Smutmas prompts list, so here we have Day 4: Anal and Hate Sex. As you can see I'm not doing those in order or even consistently, I just write them as they come (out of my brain).

Thank you for reading!

By the way, I have three other oneshots that are not exclusively female oriented, but gender neutral:

The Ghost under the Table (a bj in the library)

Just Breathe (an angsty love confession)

Just another adventure, right? (angsty first kiss)

MASTERLIST - KINKTOBER - AO3

#sebastian sallow #sebastian sallow smut #hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy smut #sebastian sallow x reader #reader insert #sebastian sallow x m!mc #male reader #smutmas 2023 #smutmas #smutmas day 4

196 notes · View notes

ro-sham-no · 7 months ago

Text

Sam fucked up.

Dean had always teased him for being a try-hard at school (with a secretly proud smile he thought Sam couldn’t see or wouldn’t notice, but oh, Sam noticed). He’d tease Sam, saying it would bite him in the ass one day, and now, at Stanford, it had finally happened.

Betrayal of all betrayals, the professor of the only prereq class he actually liked had given him extra work. It's not a big deal, not really, just reading out his stupid, gay-ass prose about his big brother in front of a crowd of people, all to get out of taking a final... Dean was across the country, so what could go wrong?

cw: wincest, referenced underage sex (barely), questionable prose lol

includes excerpts from "sweetness" - stephen dunn

“I’m telling you, man, they’re gonna expect more from you ‘cause you’re putting in all this extra effort.”

Dean was speaking in that slow, crooning voice that he always got when they were alone together in the quiet, like he was afraid to break the silence but still wanted to fill up Sam’s head with the sound of his voice so bad that he couldn’t stop himself. As if the way he was smoothing his hand up and down the breadth of Sam’s bare ribs and stomach - all palming and grabby, groping at Sam like he owned him - as if that didn’t already nail Sam’s focus and affection to the cross of their shared devotion. As if he needed to do anything at all, other than exist, to completely own Sam from the inside out.

Sam shook himself out of his trance to respond, huffing that scoff-laugh that only little brothers manage to pull off, reaching up to trap Dean’s hand against Sam’s stomach, splayed and possessive but finally stilled so Sam could actually think for a second. But before he could come up with a counter, Dean continued, sweet and slow in his ear, like syrupy molasses that’s just warm enough to drip and run down the spoon,

“I swear, if we stayed in one place for longer than it takes Dad to fuckin’ blink, they’d have you up to your ears in extra work by now.”

Sam hummed at that, all smug younger brother proving a point, “Well I guess it doesn’t matter then, huh, Dean? ‘s not like the old man’s that old, his blinks aren’t slowing down anytime soon,” said with a finality that shut Dean up, finally granting Sam some goddamn peace as they basked in the feel of each other’s bed-warmed skin.

And that was that. Still, they rehashed it a few times, here and there whenever it got brought up.

Sam flicked Dean’s hand off his shoulder because, “I need to finish my homework, Dean. There’s a quiz on it tomorrow,” providing the perfect opportunity for Dean to bring up that old argument once again. Calling him a try-hard and a teacher’s pet, distracting him enough to bully him into their bed, away from his homework, and suddenly enveloped in the warm arms of his older brother - devious bastard that he was, dammit.

Sam always got 100s on those quizzes, anyway. But that didn’t mean he didn’t enjoy the chase, the thrill of seeing Dean be jealous of a piece of fucking paper and a pen before Sam caved and they fell together oh-so-sweetly.

But that was then, when the metaphorical speed of Dad’s blinks still kept them flitting from place to place. Now, Sam had already been in this place for 9 months, consecutively, and he was in for at least another 3.25 years. Four years he would be here, and that’s where Sam fucked up, forgetting his “wise” older brother’s warning (because he’s not here to remind me), and it had finally happened.

Betrayal of all betrayals, the professor of the only prereq that he actually liked, Dr. Morris, had given him extra work. All because,

“This is really something special, Sam! I really think people deserve to hear it.” She saw Sam begin to protest but cut him off, continuing, “From the author’s mouth, don’t give me that. That’s you, in case you’ve conveniently forgotten. C’mon, the literary arts event is next week and they’ve been asking me to fill an inspired composition spot. I think this is the perfect work to fit right in, with the way you’ve expanded on Dunn’s poem, interpreting meaning from it and making it your own- just, Sam, I seriously want you to consider presenting it.”

“It” was an assignment to write a piece about or inspired by one of the poems Dr. Morris had covered in class recently. One of them had tugged at Sam’s recently-shredded heartstrings, and so he wrote something inspired by it - so sue him if he wrote a little prose, alright? But, Christ, it was soft and mushy and it was horrifically revealing. But he didn’t have time to redo it, so this was what he was stuck with.

Damn, she’s really trying to sell this, Sam thought with a sigh.

Once again, though, his professor cut him off, this time with a conspiratorial look on her face, “Besides, a little birdy told me that the final for this class might be optional if you participate in the event…”

Well, that’s just diabolical.

Sam pinched his nose with yet another sigh, arms clutched around his notebook, which conveniently contained the exact literary “work” Dr. Morris had been raving about for the last ten minutes. All Sam had wanted to do was to make sure that it fit what she was expecting for the homework prompt before he turned it in, and then she’d trapped him.

He really did hate taking tests for this class, too, and she knew that. UGH.

“Fine, Dr. Morris, you win! But that little birdy better be tellin’ the truth or another little birdy is so gonna write the meanest course review this school has ever seen, I swear to god,” he pointed his finger at her accusingly, eyebrows raised in faux intimidation.

She laughed along with him at his empty threat, holding up her hands in mock surrender with a gasp, “No, not an angry student review! What about my career?”

She sobered a little, “The birdy is telling the truth, Sam, I promise. You know I wouldn’t do that to you.”

Sam nodded with a rueful smile, “I know. Thank you, Dr. Morris, I’m uh- well, I’m glad you liked it.”

Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad after all.

It was worse. So, so much worse. God, Sam fucked up, colossally.

Somehow, his friends had gotten wind of his little performance - something about a poster with his name on it? (Damn you, Dr. Morris!) - and now Sam was about to go on stage and make a fool of himself in front of both liberal arts and now STEM majors alike. Four STEM majors, specifically, his “friends,” and he was never going to hear the end of it after this.

I’m not even out to these people, what was I thinking? They’re gonna know, now. Sure hope they’re fuckin’ cool with it.

And, beyond that, he’d only read through the piece a total of two times without crying like a fucking baby. Reduced to hiccupping sobs over the stupid poem, and over his stupid feelings laid bare on the page, and over his stupid fucking brother that he’d basically broken up with when he came here like the incestuous freak that he was, and-

Goddammit.

Sam pinched viciously at his thigh through his pocket to stop his eyes from prickling.

This is gonna be a disaster.

But the final would be worse, Sam was sure, and he didn’t want to disappoint Dr. Morris - like the total sucker that he was - so he was gonna man up and do this thing.

The person on stage before him finished up their piece and, is the crowd seriously fucking snapping? Jesus Christ, these people are pretentious. Thankfully, pretentious or not, the event wasn’t that formal. They were just outside on a small stage, with standing and sitting room in front of it. Casual. Easy.

Yeah, right.

Still, Sam steeled himself and stepped out onto the stage as prompted, calmly raising the height of the mic stand while the event coordinator introduced him to the audience, “Thank you for that wonderful reading. Now stepping on stage is Sam Winchester, with a literary reading of his work, inspired by the poem “Sweetness” by Stephen Dunn.”

Sam cleared his throat somewhat awkwardly, “Ah, thank you, for that introduction. So… this is just a piece I wrote based on that poem, which uses the term “sweetness” to describe more than just sensation - to me, it describes a feeling, an emotion, and even a person. That’s something that really struck me, and is the basis of what you’re about to hear.”

While he was speaking, he scanned the crowd and- yep, there were his friends, waving and cheesing so hard it made his own mouth twitch a little in response, amused at their amusement. Still, there was this odd feeling, almost like… nevermind.

He cleared his throat again, purposefully this time, and began, “Often, a sweetness comes and changes nothing in the world, except the way we stumble through it. Our sweetness, the one we make between us, changes the world - my world - because of the way you envelop me entirely. The sweetness between us changes the world, shrinks it down to the size of your mouth, to the size of your hands.”

Images flash in Sam’s mind: silver ring; cupid’s bow; black bracelets on twin right-wrists, like their own secret wedding bands.

“But the world is no smaller for it, even though it’s shrunk to fit the shape of your body.

It’s still ever-expansive, always with something new to explore. New gasps to wring out from the valley of your mouth. New ways to bruise and mar the landscape of your skin, changing its terrane to map out the topography of our love, our sweetness, and the way it blisters between us…

Staining, always staining.”

Golden skin that’s littered with scratches, hickies marring it in impossible places, and freckles that reach out to Sam like starlight.

“Some days you believe it stains us down to the soul level. Those are the days I spend sick with heartbreak because those are the days you won’t touch me. Those are the days you won’t touch me, when you can’t even bear to look at me, littered as I always am (and how I always want to be) with the stains of our shared, world-changing sweetness. You see the stains on those days and, instead of cherishing them the way I would bid you to, you are sickened by them.”

A memory, now,

That beloved cupid’s bow stretched out in a self-deprecating sneer, “This is wrong, Sam! God, look at what I’ve done to you, I should be fucking locked up. You don’t even want this, you can’t!”

“Even worse, you’re saddened by them, the stains that I cherish, convincing yourself that you’ve doomed me by them. On those days, you believe you’ve doomed me to an eternity of fire and brimstone, even though the only God either of us truly believes in takes on the form of the finger-shaped bruises you leave on my thighs and the teeth-sized scars I’ve left in your skin.”

The stains, god, the stains: tear tracks on freckled cheeks, red and puffy eyes so unused to crying, bloody knuckles from losing to brick walls.

Sam’s eyes prickled. One hand went from the podium to his pocket and gouged its nails into flesh, welts forming on top of already-present bruises.

He cleared his throat again, blinking harshly, “But even if that were true, that you have doomed me, my love, then please: let me be doomed. The truth is that I am doomed. I am condemned by the shade of your eyes, by the strong elegance of your wrists, and the way your head tilts when you focus that I’ve never told you about.

I am doomed by the sinuous-sinful curve of your lips and your waist, by the crinkles caused by your breathtaking smile, and by the shade of reddish-orange on your teeth when you consume me. I am stained by these things, and for that, I am doomed.”

Sam's fingernails were digging into his skin through his pocket, but he still had to pause to sniffle off to the side, hopefully out of the range of the microphone. But the movement of his head let his peripherals sweep over the crowd and, there- the feeling from before was back, or maybe it was just stronger, now, never having left.

The feeling that he was being watched, but not just by anyone. It was a feeling he’d memorized during late nights with the lights out, not seeing but nevertheless knowing that Dean was watching him, staring at him, in the dark. And that’s what it felt like, now, but that’s impossible… right?

He continued, “I am stained by our sweetness, and so are you. We are stained and left wanting, always wanting, because there is no sweetness that’s ever sufficient to leave us sated, never to be needed again. For that, there is no sweetness that’s ever sufficient, because it comes as if on a loan, ripped away at a moment’s notice. Re-possessed with an interest rate that leaves us desolate and bereft.”

His eyes were tearing up actively by then, and he knew it, but he couldn’t spare the thought to worry about it. Not while he was overwhelmed with DeanDeanDean, trying so desperately to avoid looking in that corner but- the figure ducked behind a group of people stuck close together, and wasn’t that just telling? Telling, but also heartbreaking, because,

He won’t answer a fucking phone call, but he’ll haul ass across the country in two days to come see me read some half-assed prose?

Sam regularly tracked Dean’s phone, see, so he knew where he was two days ago: middle-of-nowhere Indiana. How the hell he had heard about Sam’s current predicament? Sam couldn’t even begin to guess. But he’d learned of it, somehow, and had driven thirty-four out of the last forty-eight hours to get here and watch Sam fall apart on a sound stage, California-tanned cheeks lit up in the golden evening light and soon to be glistening with tears that he couldn’t seem to stop from forming.

There’s no way he doesn’t know this is about him. Fuck. It’s Dean, he’s here, and he’s hearing me turn whatever the fuck we had together into this flowery, perfume-tinted crap. Fuck.

He came to see me. He’s here. Fuck.

Sam searched for Dean in the crowd without a care for the rest of his audience, voice coming out strong and clear as he spoke directly to him, suddenly bold,

“But the loan lender is you, and I, the borrower, the loan holder. The interest rate is your guilt, entwined with your ever-infuriating sense of righteousness, and you rip away the loaned-out sweetness when it starts to make too much sense.

When the sweetness starts to come too easily for your self-flagellating tastes, that’s when my payments are no longer sufficient. You rip away our sweetness and make it return to its supposedly dark source, the one you conjure up for it in your mind.”

Sam blinked tears out of his eyes and they rolled down his cheeks, but just he didn’t care.

Dean stood frozen, mouth open and tears of his own making his eyes turn that same puffy shade of pink that it always did. His left hand was rubbing over his bracelet, on the same wrist as always, mirroring the one on Sam’s own wrist. Unsubtly, Sam reached over to shrug up his sleeve and reveal the black bracelet he also wore.

More glimpses of memories, Right hand reaching out to right hand, clasping awkwardly between them but it felt right, so right, to see the claim they’d put on each other stated so loudly, stark black lines so obvious across their wrists.

Dean’s golden amulet gleaming in the light, dragging across Sam’s chest as Dean stayed above him, so deep inside Sam that he swore he could taste it. He shivered at the cold touch of the metal, but all he could feel was warm.

They were holding each other’s gaze, now, and Sam’s face was twisting up as he tried desperately to choke out the next words, tried to reach out with his brain waves to shove them into Dean’s own skull, to make him understand,

“But-” he sniffled again, into the mic this time, “But as for me, in the end, I don’t care where our sweetness has been, within the depths of your mind. I don’t care what bitter road it’s had to travel, through the muck and the mire of your unfounded shame, your self-made sorrows and imaginary transgressions.”

Sam was one step away from weeping at that point, voice strangled and cracking intermittently as it rose in pitch, tears streaming all ugly down his reddened face, roughly scrubbed away by a stray hand. This was the most direct Sam had ever been with Dean, a lifetime of silent looks and unspoken words suddenly torn wide open; his ugly, accusatory feelings laid bare, but mixed in with forgiveness, and with yearning for a reunion that Sam knew was never going to happen.

It was exhilarating. It was terrifying.

Dean looked gutted, and it twisted up Sam’s own insides even more in response. He was clutching his bracelet-ed wrist tightly to his stomach, twisting the strands of it between his fingers in an uncharacteristic show of nerves. His brow was furrowed and his mouth was shaped with that familiar, guilt-ridden sadness, the set of his shoulders belying his age, making his 22-years-young appear suddenly ancient.

All the responsibility and burdens of a brother, a boyfriend, and a parent- a mother, wrapped up onto one person’s shoulders. Sam could only imagine how heavy it was.

“Because oh, my sweetness - and that is what you are, what you have been this whole time - when the sweetness finally returns, when you have come back to me, I don’t care how long I’ve been in its absence, or rather in your absence.”

Sam could just barely make out the tempo of the tears streaming down Dean’s face as they fell, though he wasn’t sure if he could actually see them, or if he just knew the rhythm of Dean’s anguish better than his own heartbeat.

Dean was a boy full of a sadness that was forced to stagnate, forced to fester and rot inside him, never to be allowed out. The rot was pouring down his face from where he stood in the crowd. Sam thought he’d never looked more beautiful than how he looked right now, back in Sam’s life after the longest time they’d ever spent apart.

“I don’t care what bitter road you’ve traveled to come back so far, to taste so good. It’s okay, it’s alright! Please, my love: lower your hackles, you’re on that bitter road no longer. It’s okay, and I don’t care, I’ve never cared, because in the end you come back, and for all of your travels, you never fail to taste so, so good.”

Sam fell silent and stepped back from the mic, smiling that sheepishly awkward, too-dimpled smile of acknowledgement and faux-gratitude to the crowd to signify his conclusion, never quite taking his eyes off Dean even as the crowd hesitantly-to-enthusiastically applauded his work.

Then Sam blinked, and Dean was gone.

#3k+ words #OH btw #this was also inspired by the 10 things i hate about you poetry scene... y'all know the one #just fyi #(#spn #sam winchester #wincest #stanford era #sweetness by stephen dunn #ro writing tag #)

26 notes · View notes

mr2swap · 2 years ago

Text

the Great shift:hell called "Chuck"

-Chuck, are you serious?- At any other time I wouldn't mind my fat old stepdad scratching his balls in public, but now that we've swapped bodies things have changed for both of us.

Unfortunately thanks to the Great shift I landed in my stepfather's shitty body and since then I have lived as an obese old man with a gray unkempt beard, oversized soccer jerseys, and this terrible old man scent coming from my whole body, at first I thought it was Chuck's horrible natural scent but now that I have his body deodorant seems to not affect this 60-year-old man's body.

And while I have to live in this hell called "Chuck" he has taken over my life, I quit my job, he broke up with my girlfriend, he took over my friends! I have nothing left that is only mine! Since I got into this body I haven't seen any of my bros in the gym or the girl I was dating and I'm pretty sure Chuck hasn't told anyone that we were affected by the big change and I feel humiliated all the time for Chuck and his new and fit body.

-oh... I'm sorry boy, it's that I shaved my balls last night and it itches like hell...- Since my stepfather has my body he does nothing but get angry, at first it was torture, he kept massaging his muscles, smelling them, and kissing them in front of me every time we were in the same room and walking around the house showing off my huge cock like it was a trophy.

While I have to make do with the dick I now have hidden under this hairy belly and I still can't believe my mother married this fat bastard, although at least she doesn't have to see what her "husband" does to her "stepson"

I've been living like an obese old man for 3 months, and it doesn't seem like the government or anyone knows how to fix this, maybe I should just get used to this…for me and my health.

-Hey boy!, I completely forgot I'll use the car tonight so I'll just change my sweaty clothes and go with some friends for some drinks so don't wait up for me…-

It sounds more and more tempting to reveal the truth to my old friends, none of them know that they are actually partying with my elderly stepfather instead of me. But… Jesus!, I'm so embarrassed that anyone finds out about this that I'd rather they all continue to believe I'm old-fashioned, overweight Chuck.

-Oh! and if you want you can go to the motel next door you know why If the noises bother you I plan to bring someone in the evening and I would not like you to disturb us in the middle of the action-

But that's not the worst, I can't believe that even though I have my stepdad's pathetic dick now, he's hard all the time! And Chuck seems to take advantage of the fact that he knows I'm gay and that he has my extremely hot body.

-But if you promise not to make any noise, maybe I could leave the door a little open for you "Chuck"… of course, as long as our secret remains standing.-

At least "Trevor" seems used to my body and my life. I just wish he would stop being a jerk and stop using my body to get rich at the gay club in town, he's not even gay! He only uses my reputation in the club to bring drunk guys to our house, let them suck my old dick and take the money from their wallets.

Hey! You can support me to continue creating stories, see similar stories on my patreon, you can also join my discord if you are interested in role-playing about bodyswap, possession and transformation, m2m!

#bodyswap #body swap #male body swap #body switch #male transformation #great shift

291 notes · View notes

kassandras-one-braincell · 8 months ago

Note

Hi ok so if ur still accepting the brainworms, here is a little Eivor idea i have been toying with? Its a really loose sort of idea, and i havent written reader inserts before, but i wanted to share it!! Sorry if this is a lot

So okay so

Being a nobleman/King/earl's youngest daughter, sent to live in Ravensthorpe as like, collateral, as part of a treaty between ur father and the Raven Clan (like a "we'll just hold onto one of your kids so you don't fuck us over" situation, idk this part is LESS important than the gay stuff)

And as you live there and become part of the community Eivor takes you under her wing, trains you to fight, and you give her information about neighboring kingdoms/Shires for raiding, etc etc and of COURSE you fall in love (because that's what we are all here for, falling in love with Eivor), and over time the two of you are just a power couple running Ravensthorpe?? You are thriving And Eivor adores you, u are her Princess (and I definitely don't like awake at night thinking about Eivor calling me Princess. I don't do that at all,,,,,)

And bc I love drama, I think some ratty little dude from another shire reaches out to your father for your hand in marriage, shows up in Ravensthorpe to whisk you away only to be confronted with the Beefiest Norsewoman Ever on your arm, and he starts running his mouth

And then Eivor. Beats the shit out of him? Because I'm gay, and I love watching that woman pummel dudes into the ground

Thats all I have so far, but I can and will go deeper and more detailed on this little idea if wanted

Always welcoming brainworms. Perpetual state of brainworm acceptance. Please give me the worms 🧠🪱🧎

I'm vibing with the collateral lore, specifically because it makes the ensuing build-up to the inevitable falling-in-love even gayer. The whole "we'll hold onto your princess so you honour your bargain" political manoeuvre has an unspoken contract. It's technically a hostage situation, pulled with the intent of holding leverage over someone, and...oh, no, the most respected warrior in our settlement is teaching the hostage to defend themself. And now the hostage is...offering tactical guidance that will boost our economy, possibly to the detriment of theirs. They also have an axe now. Motive unclear, but homoerotic.

Rat bastard's deployment is a plot to skew this arrangement in favour of your kingdom; your kingdom laid siege to a fortress, only to find it barren of loot with evidence of the Raven Clan's visitation. Clearly, your father thinks, the clan had blackmailed or tortured some information out of you, and a marriage would see your undisputed safe passage out of Ravensthorpe (fine print?). Rat bastard offered the highest dowry.

Your peaceful afternoon in the sun, draped across Eivor's lap while she feeds you slices of apple, is rudely interrupted by Rat bastard (RB hereon out) making his gaudy introduction. You can see Alvis a short distance behind, clearly biting back laughter. Eivor's grip on the knife shifts as RB states his purpose in a monologue littered with objectifying remarks aimed at you, o the children you'll bear him (grim), the money and land he offered for your hand - flattering stuff.

That's what pushes her over the edge. A princess as lovely as yourself is bound to attract suitors. Ordinarily, she'd grit her teeth through it. But RB thought you a trinket to be possessed and used, and your father was willing to throw you to highest bidder. Eivor is having none of it.

Relief flickers over his face as Eivor sets down the knife, but panic returns tenfold as she rises to her full height and rolls her shoulders. "Where is it you hail from again?" she asks with a voice of steel.

RB, bricking it, meagrely clears his throat and answers. Nowhere important, certainly not amongst the allies of the Raven Clan. Eivor therefore has no reservations about sending him packing with a few less teeth, a couple of broken bones, shakily clutching a piece of parchment detailing a change in contract regarding a certain princess. By the time your father reads the draft, you and Eivor are already wed.

I'm dying to read any other ideas you have on this or how it continued in your head! I love how your brain works. :)

princess in her voice hhhhhhhhhh PLEASE

#lovely anons #long post #eivor x reader

19 notes · View notes

swampstew · 1 year ago

Text

Meet the Master Strategist ~ Wire

Wire invented the word aloof. This is a fact. He also invented the word slay. Besides being a silent giant, Wire also has the second biggest brain in the Kid Pirate crew, right behind Killer. Wire handles strategizing full stop. Schemes, plots, developments, trysts, pranks, rehabilitation, etc. Knows the ins and outs of everything somehow but won't spill on how he knows. Wire tells Killer what to do and Killer tells Kid what to do when it comes to pulling off anything, be it dinner bill dashing or infiltrating highly guarded castles. Don't let his unenthusiastic face fool you - if you're in the crew, you're his nakama, you can trust him with your life.

Meet your Vice-Captain 🡢 ☠️ Meet your Captain -> ☠️

Wire may have also coined the phrase 'ride or die' but that's still unverified. Anyways, he's loyal as they come. Most of the crew came from the same island so it may seem intimidating to join the fray, and they all do have high walls, once they get over themselves, you'll find crew more like family.

Does he know sign language? He'll shrug and then give you a vague answer with an even vaguer gesture. You'll see him make signing motions from time to time, clearly holding conversation, communicating from a distance, or maybe giving direction during tougher than normal settings. It's not until one day Heat pulls you aside and let's you in on the secret. Yes Wire can sign, and he did it purely so he didn't have to expend his energy talking to people he didn't find interesting. Not a lot of people know how to sign back so they leave him alone, just the way he wants it to be.

If he finds time to relax, Wire enjoys simple pastimes to get through the days. He plays guitar and has been known to sing sometimes, he loves board and card games, is a vicious dart shark, and he loves napping. He's one of very few Kid Pirates that takes naps but he makes the absolute most of them. He wears a sleep mask too. It reads: Fuck Off (in really nice handsewn embroidery.)

Wire is the chillest between Kid (the unbridled anger), Killer (the stoic well of anxiety), and Heat (much nicer than he should reasonably be). If crew concerns don't meet a certain threshold criteria, most internal problems get handed to himself and Heat. The thresholds being: big bastard Kid needs to kill, and any situation not cited in Killer's emergency management guidebook.

Circling back to slay - it's a double entendre. Wire has the third highest body count on the crew (for murders), he's also a fashion icon. Have you seen his fit? Mesh netting on those tits and legs, WITH whore shorts? He knows what he's fucking doing. He helps all his little queer pirate kids pick out their outfit aesthetics, he's a proud gay dad.

Wire is only possessive of two things. One of them is his beloved trident. Kid made it for him years ago and it's still his weapon of choice. He cleans and oils it daily, sharpens the points and keeps on top of maintenance for it. Kid made him other weapons over the years: spiked brass knuckles (hurts Wire's back to bend down and utilize them properly); spiked boots (better application but Kid is not a cobbler and those promptly fell apart mid-fight leaving Wire barefoot in battle); a spiked flail (hit Kid's head by accident one time and Wire never saw the flail again). No weapon is more suited for his height and style of fighting than his trident. Wire suspects Kid made it to match his favorite pointed headdress.

If you try to get in the way of his Captain's dreams OR you try to sling pot on the deck, you're dead meat. There's only one weed dealer on the Victoria Punk and that's Wire.

Welcome to the crew and stay in your lane.

#one piece wire #reader/you as in you are being recruited to the crew #welcome to the crew #swampstew.daydreams #swampstew #wire one piece #eustass captain kid #one piece fanfiction #fanfic #swampstew stories #kid pirates #kid pirate headcanons #wire #one piece #eustass kid #massacre soldier killer

111 notes · View notes

catsconflictscopicsandchamomile · 8 months ago

Text

@kimberleyjean ok, you asked for this, its cursed and I'm sorry.

So first off I'm NOT going to try to explain what Supernatural is. Its a garbage fire, and I am unfortunate enough to be one of the feral, touch-starved gays to live in said garbage fire. Its the best show ever but all of its accidental, its the worst show ever in terms of anything that was done on purpose, etc etc. You're on tumblr you know the drill

Anyway, before GOs2's "Final Fifteen", the ONLY connections between GO and SPN were:

A demon in spn is named Crowley, in an homage to GO Crowley. They are alike, but they are NOT the same character and I don't think it can be argued that they're the same person in different forms (bc with demons that would be possible). They are however both Scottish, greasy and have a deep disrespect for authority. I do HAVE a theory/hc connecting the two Crowleys but that's another post for another day. Weirdly, SPN!Crowley (who I'm going to call Fergus from here on out, bc even though nobody in spn or the fandom calls him that, it is his canonical first name) has very little to do with anything I'm about to say. Just fyi, he exists.

Secondly, The Hillywood show did a Supernatural parody back in 2014-ish. I will link it below if you're curious, but again not much in this video is ACTUALLY RELEVANT to what I'm about to say (however, Fergus is there. He's the Scottish guy)

youtube

However, the specific arcs of Supernatural that SURROUND the season/topic this parody is centered on (Mark of Cain arc, ~s9-10) are where the coincidences get weird, and ok now I do have to talk about Supernatural a bit.

mmmfffff. Okay so the Metatron is a greasy, annoying, manipulative, power-hungry bastard who lies every time he speaks, wants full rule over Heaven and will control anyone and wreck anything he can to get there....

...and I'm talking about the version of the Metatron from Supernatural. LONG tldr, Dean (buzz cut, older brother, guy who's in love with an angel, the guy who says the news headlines in the Destiel meme) takes this thing/curse/whole other mess called the "Mark of Cain" to kill this kinda super-powerful arch-demon called Abaddon (more on her later), and blah blah blah Supernatural Happens For A Bit, and due to the Mark's curse making Dean act like a total psycho (and also, its implied, slowly turning him into a demon) they try to get help from the Metatron, who had been locked up after... well.

-when God was no longer contacting heaven, Metatron ran away from Heaven and hid on earth because he thought that the angels would use the Word of God (which the Metatron holds) "wrong" or something

-later, took advantage of strife & power vacuums in Heaven to manipulate Cas (angel, deeply autistic, the guy who says "I love you" in the destiel meme, in love with Dean) into doing a spell that CAUSED ALL OF THE ANGELS IN HEAVEN TO FALL, for no reason other than the Metatron is an actual pissbaby.

anyway, Metatron claims he can help Dean, that was a lie (shocking, I know), Metatron pulls some bs including basically stealing Cas' life-force (a second time. the first time was when he was ALREADY fucking w Cas as mentioned above) and runs off back to heaven... along with Gadreel, who he has manipulated/convinced to help him take power in Heaven.

who's Gadreel?

well. he's the angel who let the Serpent (or in this canon, just Lucifer) into the Garden of Eden, and he was cast into Hell to be tortured forever or something as punishment. However, after Metatron's earlier all-the-angels-falling scheme, Gadreel (for reasons I'm not too sure of tbh) took the name/identity of a VERY highly-regarded and powerful angel named Ezekiel, who died of his injuries during the fall

^this last part is a detail I try hard not to think about. this is because the names and roles are JUST similar enough to GO's Ineffable Husbands for the implications make me very, very sad.

Anyway, Gadreel had been around spn canon before, posing as Ezekiel, possessing Sam blah blah blah shit happened

Anyway this is a whole lot of words to say that the season/s of SPN that The Hillywood Show was parodying were the seasons where the Metatron was a main villain, and attempted/temporarily succeeded in taking power in Heaven BY MANIPULATING THE GUY WHO LET THE DEVIL INTO THE GARDEN OF EDEN

and then The Hillywood Show (who tbh I almost feel bad for lmao like BRUH) got signed to produce the parody/teaser/release date announcement for GOs2. Where the Metatron...

yeah.

yeahhhhhh

I would have LOVED to see the Hillywood Show team's live and immediate reaction to the Final Fifteen because I can't even imagine what must have been going through their heads.

ah yes. the FUCKING Metatron

oh also in spn, the Metatron (its complicated but basically)severely/fatally wounds Cas, and straight-up KILLS Dean, but Dean resurrects as a demon (for a few eps at least), meaning that Metatron DID technically try, and almost succeeded in, killing both members of an angel/demon gay couple, if only bc timing lined up so that Metatron was an antagonist in the arcs where Dean was turning into a demon.

so yeah

anyway I mentioned we'd get back to Abaddon so here's those major spoilers I mentioned. I'm fairly sure these are real spoilers and not theories, since my source is wikipedia

that's the whole article, there's not much else on her on wiki (though I should really do more research on Muriel). I think I heard Neil say somewhere that he created Muriel because "he wanted an angel character, from Heaven, who was 'just nice'" but idk if anything specific has ever been said about her name.

anyway that's why the Metatron gave Muriel that book "The Crow Road" in the Final 15, why he likes her so much, and why he's having her stay on earth

"The Crow Road" is a book about the nature of Death, and Metatron is, for lack of a better/less problematic word, grooming Muriel for the role of angel of Death in the apocalypse (Abaddon being a VERY prominent figure in revelations, for those who weren't aware)

...so on top of all the other Supernatural/Hillywood-Specific coincidences, sure, let's have Abaddon too.

uhhhhh

yeah

#I also found a canon-adjacent “Explanation” for the Coffee Theory if you're interested in that as well.#its not canon and its never gonna be canon but imho it explains it just believably enough to make for some VERY good fic/hc inspo #hint: its nothing to do with the almonds (afaik)#longpost #supernatural #YIKES #the metatron #gomens #good omens season 2 #GOs2 #final fifteen #hillywood show #Youtube

18 notes · View notes

ultimate-shipper-trash-blog · 3 months ago

Text

Pt.9

For the first time in her life Lydia shut up.

She was sitting in the middle of the room while everyone else was frantic around her.

"How can this happen? How does he even know she exists!"

"He must be in our minds that's it!"

"He wasn't supposed to come till 1995. We had time!"

"Yeah well obviously we don't!"

"I don't care about the facts I want my daughter safe!"

The room is silent.

"Oh my god." Dustin is the first to start.

"Your daughter?!" Lucas squeaks.

Eddie raises his hand. "Yeah um, mine too."

"WHAT!" Mike roars.

Robin is giggling, Nancy is shaking her head while smiling. Everyone else looks generally unsurprised.

"Relax dipshit," Max says. "People have children all the time, including gay people. No big deal."

"Well it's just-"

"If you think Steve ending up with Eddie is the biggest surprise and not that there's a time traveler in your living room you're even stupider than I thought. I can't be the only one who thought they were already dating." Everyone else nods their head in agreement and that seems to be the end of that.

"Back to planning," Nancy starts. "Lydia knows how the first round went. If Vecna knows everything we've discussed then you can't know anything else. We have to treat this as a two-way camera. Only the bare bones."

"But I can help!" Lydia argues.

"No Lydia, you've already told us everything you know. You are no longer a part in this plan. For your safety and ours."

The two engage in a staring contest. Lydia is the first to break away with a huff. Leaving the room in a flurry.

Eddie trails after her.

"Hey! Wait up!"

He finds her outside on the porch, her face in her knees. He sits next to her giving her room to breathe.

"What's going on munchkin?"

"I'm no use to anyone! I don't even know why I'm here. I'm useless. This is life or death and I'm only in the way, I'm a hazard."

"No babe that's not true. You didn't ask to get possessed by the scary wizard man did you? That stupid bastard. He won't hurt you. I won't let him."

Understanding seems to pass on her face but she doesn't say anything.

"Let's go back inside huh?"

"Yeah."

---

When they go inside Lydia pulls Nancy aside. "Can I talk to you? I know why I was brought here."

---

"Ok so the plan is," Nancy has a large sheet of paper on the table, she has little monopoly pieces representing everyone and a large marked she's drawing little connecting lines with. Lydia and Eddie were sent to do something, anything but be involved. Eddie would get caught up later. He didn't want to miss the chance to babysit his daughter.

"El will be our manpower. The kids will be sent to the Creel house to burn the body like we did." She gestures to Steve and Robin. "This time he won't get a chance to heal."

Robin and Steve are looking at her for their next instructions. "Robin you're with me. Steve, you and Eddie watch over Lydia. All she has to do is stand there and try to summon him."

Steve crosses the room in anger. "My daughter will not be bait!"

"Steve," Robin puts a hand on his chest. "Babe you know as well as I do that it's the only way to get him here."

Steve won't stop. "Why do we have to chase him down?! Huh?! Aren't we speeding up the timeline? Shouldn't we wait for him to find us?"

Nancy shakes her head at him. "Steve. He nearly killed us once on his time. This time we have an upper hand. Do you really want to see what he's like when he's had time to plan? To put Lydia in more danger?"

"You know I'd never-"

"Then trust me...it's the only way."

---

All chapters will be posted today!!!! Woo-hoo! Maybe I'll wait till tomorrow to post the epilogue idk.

Tag:

@tinyplanet95 @jaytriesstrangerthings @bookworm0690

#steddie #strangerthings #eddie munson #kid fic #kinda #steve harrington #time travel #ficlet #robin buckley #oc #steddie ficlet #steddie fic #nancy wheeler #el hopper #max mayfield #dustin henderson #the party #holdtheline

12 notes · View notes

edns · 7 months ago

Note

Hi!! Here are some OC questions delivered fresh into your mailbox: What color do they think they look best in? Do they actually look best in that color? and What are their thoughts on marriage?

Hello there! Yippee :D Thank you!

What color do they think they look best in? Do they actually look best in that color?

Cyrus thinks he looks best in blue, (un)surprisingly, despite him usually dressing in more pink/purple hues... If it looks best on him, well, who knows. He did steal Dimitri's cape occasionally... Here, you can make your own judgement

What are their thoughts on marriage?

Marriage is pretty important to Cyrus... Him being a possessive little bastard doesn't really help. However if you set aside his erm. Issues he does just think it's really sweet to get married. If he attended any weddings he would probably cry during them lol especially if it's someone he cares about... Let alone his own! Here's a silly doodle. They are gay married

#Again. Forgot my ask tag sorry #Thank you for sending these in!!! <3 #Also sorry this took a second I was doodling these doodlies hehe :3c #fe3h oc #oc cyrus bartholomew lenz

14 notes · View notes

alastair-1205 · 4 months ago

Text

Episode 14 reactions

FALSHBACK 2

WITH KAI AND JAY

Damn this is just mean to Cole sepcifically lol

LMAO THE SHOW AGREES

I mean he’s not wrong but why are we seeing this I wonder?

Awwwwww

CAN SHE PLZ BE LIKE A LITTLE MORE SAD??? I LOVE THIS SHOW BUT I NEED NYA TO BE AS AGONIZED AS JAY ONCE WAS MAN

Yea I don’t think to was the real him. But someone might be messing with Nya

Arin :(

I still think it was Ras

FLASHBACK 3 WITH PARENTS

He misses his mom man :(

Oh that looks like a trap

…did Frack do it? Is Frack evil? Or is he a red hearing

I’m probably getting played but I don’t trust Frack man

Lmaoooo she has a crush what a nerd

I think Robie likes her back. It’s kinda cute lol

LMAO ARIN. True tho

THEY ARE GAY

I want them to be married so fucking and man

WHO’S WATCHING UR CHILDREN GUYS

They’re on a dateeeeee

LILY MENTION I CAN DIE HAPPY

LOOK AT HOW THEY LOOK AT EACH OTHERRRRR

AND THE MOTM THEME PLAYING TOO

I’m normal I swear

More Jordana!

She’s got issuesssss

OH I FUCKING KNEW IT

“I wouldn’t lie to you Arin” IS A CRAZYYYY LINE MAN

Ok Nya praying is a cool detail to add actually

KAI AND BONZEL

Ooooooo possession mechanics my beloved

That’s so interesting actually I wanna see more of them

FUCK YOU CINDER

No pressure to anything lmao

Idk man I think Wyldfyre has a point here. It’s not like it’d be cheating….

ZANE MY BELOVED

Lmao I love him sm

Zane you have saved the world like 16 times you’ll be fine

He better not get out first I stg-

Beckt is so fucking done lmao

BOOOOOOOOOO

Zane’s having flashbacks rn

Zane I love you, but excessive force is kinda ur guys’ whole thing. I respect the sentiment tho.

I DIDNT THINK THEY’D ACTUALLY DO IT

THE TOX CARD WAS A MISDIRECT THOSE BASTARDS

EVEN GEO’S FUCKING CONFUSED

Lloyd is remarkably shill about this

YEA THATS UR BESTIE COLE

Geo is lowkey more devastated than the ninja lmaooooo

He relates to the lovers agony ig

Oh this is still actually sad man

NOT JAY ROASTING HER TECHNIQUE LMAO

Rip to the audience watching this fucking soap opera

YES HE IS AGENT WALKER

So I’m guessing that convo with Bonzel inspired him to escape

Holy fuck they actually did that to him

BADASS JAY FOR LIKE 1 MINUTE I CONSIDER THIS A WIN

I like how only the kids are cheering :(

Making Nya use lighting is actually so tragic I fucking love it

OH THE WAY JAYS VOICE SOUNDED ON THAT LINE

I’m normal and not at all deranged about Jay Walker. Not at all

OH SHIT

RIYU POSSESION TIME? LOL??

THEYRE GONNA KNOW BONZELS ALIVE YAY

#ninjago dragons rising #dragons rising #ninjago spoilers #dragons rising spoilers

12 notes · View notes

tempting-andromeda · 1 year ago

Note

Can I please have headcannons for Sadie with fem s/o who is secretly in love with Sadie. She wants to confess her feelings but is scared of how she might react. Fem reader drops little hints here and there and eventually confesses one night at camp when everyone is asleep and they are the only ones awake. I would love to see how Sadie and fem reader deal with being secret lovers in 1899 since it wasn’t smiled upon back then and very dangerous to be lesbian/gay/bi, etc and i would love to see how they are out, open and free with the other camp members and how they are comfortably out to John Abigail Jack uncle and Charles post RDR2. And please do a little fast forward to after the events of the game when John Charles and sadie k*ll Micah and sadie is happily settled down with fem reader and their poodle dog! Just living a quiet happy wholesome life where sadie works as a bounty hunter and comes home to fem reader cooking a delicious meal sorta life. Cozy, warm vibes and a happily ever after together forever 💖💖💖💖💖 sorry if this is cheesy and cliche I just love this little idea I have in my head of Sadie happily married to her fem s/o (low key of course because it was illegal to be LGBT in the 1800s and I would love to see how Sadie and fem reader navigate their life before and after the events of the game) !! Love your blog! 🥰✨✨✨

Sadie Adler

I think it would genuinely take sadie a bit to get back into a relationship

She’s traumatized and she just lost jake and so she doesn’t even realize you were dropping hints

You two get close and there’s this lingering emotion but she purposefully ignores it

It takes until like a month or so for her to finally acknowledge it and at first she doesn’t want to be in a relationship

Super against it because she’s a mess

When you confess she somehow rejects you but returns the feelings at the same time

Takes everything at a slow pace

It’s not like internationalized homophobia or anything…homegirl had like the worst experience ever a few months back

Likes to hold your hand

It’s such a tender thing

Separating your finger and bending them slowly while you both lay on your sides facing one another while you try to sleep

A very complicated “we’re not dating but we are”

Likes standing around you just to have your company but sometimes she just looks like a body guard with her arms crossed

Kisses your finger tips

Idk I just think she wouldn’t be ready for actual kisses so she works her way up

Everyone knows you two are somewhat a thing because even if you both wanted to hide it Sadie will practically growl at anyone who stares too long

Likes to go off with you and doesn’t tell you what you’re doing

Give you a quick “come on” and doesn’t answer any questions

Thinks anything can be a surprise if she wanted to to be

She wants to go to the gunsmith to get a new rifle? She’s gonna take you and act like she has the most romantic date planned

After the events of rdr2 she’s healed a lot more

She wasn’t on her own for like…8 years so she’s definitely grown

More into physical touch

Loves coming behind you and grabbing your waist while she nuzzles into your neck and kisses it

She’s a cheeky bastard

How can she do anything wrong she’s just a girl with a gun

Tells you all about her bounties and sometimes if you get her too into it she’ll recreate some moments

Jumping up out of bed to act out slashing a guys neck and getting blood on her

She’s so dramatic and she’s giving you a lopsided grin

Picked the poodle up as an apology for getting stabbed when she hunted down Micah with John

She saw how Abigail reacted with John and she didn’t want to be in the dog house

Always insists a meal needs more seasoning no matter how much you add

It either needs more salt or pepper

She’s real hesitant about pda and to other people y’all have an elaborate story about how both of your husbands died and you’re widowers together

Just besties

She has horrible jealousy isssues

She’s not worried you’d cheat

She just possessive

Tried to invite John and Abigail over for dinner frequently but after the first time she couldn’t do it again

Had to protect her peace

And she got tired of everyone mid way and didn’t know how to tell anyone she just wanted to nap with her wife

Whenever y’all do hang out with the marstons she somehow gets kicked out of the wife circle and is forced to Interact with John

She has fun but John is just so much to deal with

She’s absolutely shit at cooking

She can cook meat but anything else?

She complains if you try to get her to cook

If you do make her cook or you can’t she just goes into town and buys something that’s easy or already made

Likes to join you in the kitchen when you cook though

She’ll stand behind you with her hands on your hips telling you to cut the potatoes bigger or smaller

Whenever it’s just you two or any of your friends she loves to call you her wife

Smiles all goofy and everything

#sadie adler #sadie rdr2 #rdr2 headcanons #rdr2 sadie #I love Sadie #sometimes I do something wrong while playing so she’ll yell at me

37 notes · View notes