#sam’s wings are so complicated to draw

[ace-bucket]

Buckytober Day 24- Wings

Some Sam and Bucky art for this prompt :)

Buckytober Prompt List

[abarbaricyalp]

Written for the @sambuckyhalloweenbingo !!!

No archive warnings apply for this story

In Every Mask, I See You

Bucky was in DC on Halloween. Which sucked because he'd promised Cass he'd help with the werewolf costume and all the bloody makeup. He'd gotten two sets of sad Wilson eyes when he'd face timed to let him know--from Cass and Sarah, which he hadn't understood until a few hours ago when he'd seen Sam posting about being home to take the boys trick-or-treating that year. Sarah had totally conspired to get them in the same house at the same time.

What doubly sucked was that the whole reason he was in DC and not down at a neighborhood party, watching Halloween projected on someone's garage door and stealing candy from the boys, was a super important meeting, which had ended up being canceled an hour beforehand. He hated this job.

The house he bought--and pretended like he didn't share with Sam when they were not both in DC at the same time--was in a nice enough neighborhood and the sounds of kids shrieking and laughing had started up well before dark. Bucky didn't have a costume or a kid or even a dog to justify wandering around outside, but he couldn't help himself. His chest literally ached with missing Cass and AJ, and it's not like he really wanted to stay in and watch horror movies by himself.

He threw on a baseball cap (even though his neighbors knew Bucky Barnes lived in the neighborhood) and put on a shirt with the shield on it and a jacket. It had been getting a little cooler in the evenings and he didn't want to draw more attention to himself than was necessary by flashing the metal around. Besides, he was not in the mood to hear any how the colors weren't right or the plates didn't align or whatever other inane thing people could critique a Winter Soldier costume for.

He had expected the usual fare of costumes--ghosts and zombies and princesses and whatever teenagers passed off as costumes nowadays. He had not been expecting to open his door and immediately see Captain America running down the street, shield jostling on his little back.

There were so many Sams. There were plenty of other heroes too-- Captain Marvel, Bishop and Khan, Thor, the spider kid. But by and large, Captain America had the run of the night. There were babies in shield themed onesies and kids in bought costumes and adults in fancier handmade ones. Boys, girls, young, old, all decked out in Sam's white outfit or the sleek, new, darker one he'd been wearing recently. All of the wings were pretty priceless. Everyone was trying to take off in flight.

It was a little disorienting, actually. Since Bucky had been assigned to the whole Thunderbolts bullshit and Sam had had to take on whatever fresh hell Ross concocted, they hadn't seen much of each other. Bucky had fucked that up. He usually did. It was complicated. It was stupid. He was stupid. And none of it was fair. Especially not to Sam, but not to him either when he was reminded of how good and noble and wonderful and inspiring Sam was by a hundred people in his neighborhood. He hadn't been able to so much as look at or smell or even hug Sam in months and now he was completely overwhelmed with Sam and people's love of him.

Someone tapped Bucky's hip while he stood at an intersection and greatly debated going home and going to bed. Night had fallen, but there were enough streetlights, car lights, and patio lights illuminating houses doing far more than they needed to for trick-or-treating to keep visibility fairly high. Bucky turned and found yet another Sam staring up at him. The kid couldn't have been even ten yet and he looked just about on the verge of tears, big dark eyes shining.

"Hey, Cap," Bucky greeted and then felt like he was on the verge of tears too.

"I lost my Bucky!" the kid cried and then plastered himself to Bucky's leg, just about taking out his knee in the process. "I don't know where I am!"

"Woah, woah, hey," Bucky babbled while he freed his leg and squatted down in front of him. "It's alright. We'll find him together, okay? That's what Cap and Bucky do best. Work together. Do you live in this neighborhood?"

The boy looked at him again, tiny fingers twisting in Bucky's jacket sleeve fretfully. "I'm not supposed to tell strangers where I live."

Fair enough, but deeply unhelpful. "You know me," Bucky cajoled. "I'm Bucky. I'm Captain America's best friend right? If you want, I can call him and you can tell him where you live." And wouldn't Sam love that. Bucky using a lost kid as an excuse to call. But desperate times and all that.

The boy's eyes alit for a split second before his whole face shuttered in embarrassment. "No! I don't want Captain America to know I'm lost." He let go of Bucky's sleeve only long enough for it to unwind so he could twist it in the other direction. "I live on Oak Drive. But we weren't anywhere near my house."

"Well, do you know where you last saw your Bucky?" Bucky asked. "This is Magnolia Lane.

Captain America's lips trembled. "No. There was a big Frankenstein in the yard."

Bucky had not seen a big Frankenstein yet this evening. "Hey, buddy, can I see your shield for a second?" he asked.

It was hurriedly handed off and Bucky checked down the back of it and across the straps until he found a piece of masking tape with a sharpie'd phone number on it. He grinned, pleased with himself. Sarah had done the same thing a few years ago when AJ had been Sam.

"Is this your mom's number?" he asked, looking up at the boy, whose eyes went wide.

"Oh! Yeah!"

"Is she with your friend?"

"Yeah! Can you call her?"

Bucky could do that. "C'mere, little bird," he said, holding his arm out so he could lift the boy when he stood and hold him on his hip. "You can have this back," he added, handing off the shield. "Go ahead and tell me what that number is." He pulled out his phone and typed in the number as Cap read it off to him.

The line barely rang once before a worried voice answered, "Andre?"

"Uh," Bucky said unhelpfully. "Is your name Andre?" he asked the Captain America pinching the corner of his jacket collar now. The boy nodded. "Yeah, this is Bucky Barnes. I've got your Captain Andre," Bucky said. "He was helping me cross the road. Real Captain America stuff. Helping an old guy out. Can I return the favor and help him back to you? We're at Magnolia and Deer Ridge."

The mother on the other end of the line told Bucky where she was without nearly as much babbling as Bucky had provided. They were only one street over from each other. Bucky let himself be thankful for that, especially when Andre started to explain to Bucky why he was Captain America and his friend, Dylan, was Bucky. It did not seem to matter that it was Bucky holding him when it came time to explain that Andre was the better action star, but don't tell Dylan. Also Dylan had blue eyes.

"Dre?!" someone called before Bucky had spotted a worried mom. Then yet another little guy was trying to take Bucky off of his feet by way of his knees.

"Wait, wait, wait!" Bucky cried, putting a hand down to slow down the racing kid. He let himself glance over the Winter Soldier costume. It had had the silver arm, but someone had gone in and tried to recolor it. Which was kind of cute. "I'm gonna drop Cap. His wings are faulty right now."

The tiny Winter Soldier stared up at him, a hard set to his jaw that was kind of familiar. He could understand how he got relegated to playing Bucky. "Don't. Are you okay?" Dylan asked.

Bucky almost responded, but Andre, reasonably, beat him to it. "Yeah. I found another Bucky," he said. He let go of Bucky's collar and hopped out of Bucky's hold when he was close enough to the ground as Bucky squatted down again.

Dylan put his hand on Andre's shoulder solemnly, then they tucked into a half hug that quickly turned into a brawl when Dylan tried to snatch the shield away.

Bucky kept half an eye on them, ready to pull them back from the street, even though it seemed like this street had been blocked off for traffic. When a woman hurried over, he felt some of his anxiety bleed out of his shoulders, but a new wave of social anxiety took its place.

"Thank you!" she sighed as she caught up to the boys and stood a few steps from Bucky. She was younger than he was expecting and dressed like a 50s ad. He could see Andre's features in her face plainly. She took a second to look over him and her eyebrows rose a little. "Oh, wow, you're actually Bucky Barnes. I thought you meant you were dressed up."

Bucky scratched the back of his neck. "Yeah. He recognized me, so I guess I was safe enough to ask for help."

"Yeah. It's kind of weird to be able to tell your kids they can ask superheroes for help if they need. Got any sugar I can borrow, neighbor?" she joked, then cringed at herself. "Is, uh, Cap around?"

"Oh, uh, no," Bucky admitted, cheeks reddening. People still expected them to be connected at the hip, even though they were never in the house together. They were never together at all anymore. "He's with his family down south."

"Why aren't you too then?" she asked.

Bucky's cheeks warmed even more. He could feel it scorching down to the bone. "Well it's his family, y'know. And I had to work, so. "

The woman's brows knit towards each other a little. She looked over at the boys still roughhousing with the plastic shield. "You know, they'd call each other family," she said slowly, measuring her words. "Those two are such a handful. They'd rather be in trouble together than out of trouble alone. They get antsy if they can't see each other."

Bucky snorted. "Yeah, I know how that goes."

She shrugged. "I'm just saying, I can guarantee Dre was more concerned with getting back to Dylan than to me."

"Well, Cap shouldn't be without his Bucky," Bucky said before the words actually sank in. The blush erupted into flames. He needed to go climb a tree and sit in it for a few days.

"Yeah," she agreed with a grin. "I think that's right. Boys!" she called. The roughhousing calmed and they both turned to look at her expectantly. More candy imminent in their future. "Would you mind a picture?" she asked Bucky.

"No," Bucky said quickly. "I love taking pictures with celebrities," he said louder for the boys to hear.

They beamed at each other, ran over in a race, and attached to his knees again.

Once the pictures were taken care of--Bucky even asked for one on his phone--he retreated from the thick of the party, towards a house with all of its lights cut and the only decorations ghosts drifting in the breeze on invisible strings. He pulled out his phone, faced the tree trunk, and dialed Sam's number.

He wasn't exactly surprised when Sam didn't answer. Kind of disappointed. Kind of relieved. When the answering machine picked up, he took in a shaky breath and said, "Hey, Sammy, it's Buck," exactly the way he knew Sam would make fun of him for. What else is the Caller ID for, Buck? "I just wanted to say I miss you. Like, so much. I don't... I don't wanna be doing this without you. I kind of hate it without you, actually. I've always hated it. You know that. But with you, it means something. I felt like I was doing the right thing if you were next to me. But now I don't have that and it feels bad. Everything is bad and wrong and I just miss you so much. God, it's so obvious Buckys shouldn't be without their Caps and I'm the first example of that. The worst example. I don't even wanna watch scary mov--"

The machine cut him off and he dialed Sam's number again instantly. It went to voicemail again, but it rang all the way through, so it's not likely Sam was ignoring him. It was much more likely he'd turned the noise off on his phone to focus on the boys.

"How come spam calls can leave ten minute voicemails but I barely get two minutes, huh?" he asked Sam's voicemail when it clicked through. "Listen, I just want to say it again. I miss you. And when you feel up for it, call me back. Maybe I can dig myself out of this one. I just need to come home to you again. Love you. I mean...shit. Just. Whatever. Miss you, Sam."

Bucky really considered climbing the tree. But it wasn't his tree. He beelined back for his house (there was a giant Frankenstein on Moss Lane that he had to pass again). He'd never been so happy to close the door and block out most of the noise of the neighborhood.

By the time he was dragging himself into bed half an hour later, a text buzzed in. He opened it as he plugged in his phone. It was a picture of Sam, surrounded by about as many Captains America as Bucky had seen, and a fair few Winter Soldiers too.

You're grumpy at every age, btw.

Okay, yeah, I miss you too.

You in DC? I'll see you soon.

Like tomorrow.

Love you too, old man.

Bucky let out a long breath and dropped himself across the bed. Finally, whoever he had been pretending to be fell off of him, like a bad mask. Bucky Barnes settled back into his bones.

How'd the werewolf turn out? What did AJ decide to do this year? He hadn't picked last time I called.

Hey, when you get home, do you wanna call? We can watch that new witch demon haunted house movie on Netflix together.

And maybe he did thrill when a text came in almost immediately. And he answered immediately again.

"Trick or treat?" Sam asked later that night, both of them half asleep on their respective couches, another shitty horror movie starting up on the autoplay.

"Treat," Bucky answered into the throw pillow Sam had bought.

"I still miss you."

"What was the trick?"

"I dunno. Making you fall asleep finally. What would your trick be?"

"Probably making you fall in love with me."

"I dunno, Buck. Seems like a lot of people dig us being together. Can't be such a bad idea."

"Yeah," Bucky agreed. "Buckys belong with their Cap. I dunno how I messed that one up so damn bad."

"Yeah, I think Cap needs his Bucky too," Sam laughed.

"Trick or treat, Sam?"

"Treat."

"I love you."

And if Sam answered, Bucky didn't hear it as he fell asleep easy to the sound of Sam's breathing.

[chrysalizzm]

vine boom. wasteland character expression memes

read the series here.

(more on the characters and also quality details under the cut)

so wasteland, the series currently being updated on ao3, focuses pretty much entirely on the dsmp cast, but behind the scenes the cast of this thing is sprawling, including but not limited to empires, hermitcraft, the life series, mcc participants, smpearth, noxcrew, older guard mcyts like jordan n mitch n jerome n seto n deadlox, speedrunners, tiredtwt, outsiders smp, fable smp, redacted smp, and my personal scrungklies, which are team salad, a korean mcyt group that brings me great joy. this is why there r characters on this expression meme chart that u probably do not recognize if u are a) under the age of 18 b) exclusively know dream smp or c) are not a korean speaker. some fun facts abt the wasteland characters, their powers, or the circumstances in which these expressions take place:

ivory was a sidekick for hermit that was chased into villainy following her coming out as trans. as throne, she is now one of jordan's lieutenants in trinity and has assassinated several government officials.

jimmy, alias firebird, is an empire offices hero. he also happens to be allied with the fates under the alias wildfire. i'm sure this is of no import in the story /lie

i cannot imagine in what circumstance punz would ever make that expression. mans is chill as fuck.

i accidentally anime boyed the hell out of fruit, alias floodbloom under chase co. he has a lot of admirers on tumblr and about two thirst accounts on twitter

shelby's (alias wilder) hero uniform is heavily inspired by princess mononoke. she's signed on under empire offices, like jimmy, and can release poisonous spores from her skin.

tommy's doing the nervous lore laugh in that drawing

velvet is doing the anime lady hohoho pose while covered in blood. if he didn't have painful and complicated emotions about velvet turning to villainy, ant would be swooning

dont worry about why illumina is covered in blood it is absolutely not related to the series whatsoever /suspicious. instead consider how illumina (alias anima) is fruit's hero partner under chase co.

shoutout to @pixelperfunctory for this req. thats the most boomer ass lookin expression in the world

a brooding phil (not to be confused with a broody phil, which is c!phil). techno starts to see this expression more and more as they get older.

not to toot my own horn but foolish came out extraordinarily handsome in this drawing. he has some golden scales and they glimmer brighter when he's happy, which eret is very fond of.

grian, who we know as seraphim from wonderland, is remarkably scrungkly. he has three sets of wings and is a talented flier.

wilbur also came out quite beautiful, blood and tears notwithstanding. the next fic scheduled to be published hopefully either by the end of may or early june might shine some light on his expression here

sapnap, like ivory and shelby, would probably tear someone's throat out with his teeth given the opportunity. in the interim he gets thousands of thirst traps made of him by adoring stans.

i imagine that's the kind of AYO?? expression ponk makes whenever sam short-circuits the entire spark co. headquarters

my boy. he's not lookin too good

mapple (villain name kallisti, also known by other villain orgs as she of the heights) my scrungkly. in wasteland he's the leader of villain org team salad which is not at all what it appears to be. that particular drawing is a rare moment where he's being flustered by his very charming queerplatonic partner parkmo.

oh my love. by the time the silver age ends seto has been dead for six years. in life he was one of chase co.'s senior heroes, alias sigil, and he could control the wind. his friends - mitch and jerome, especially, who are the joint heads of chase co. - loved him very much.

[endeavvor]

Icarus laughed as he fell. Threw his head back and yelled into the winds, arms spread wide, teeth bared to the world. Icarus fell, yes, but it was clear that mattered not to him, because before he fell, he flew.

Often, James T. Kirk is compared to the sun. He burns bright and warm. He draws people in naturally, like a flock.

While I do believe this is still true for AOS Kirk, it is a facade. He strikes me more as Icarus flying towards the sun. A winged figure, burning brightly for just a moment until he is scorched and sent plummeting into the sea.

There's a key difference in the history between TOS and AOS that is starkly defining, hence why it created an entire time line. That is the loss of George Kirk.

What this did to the Kirk family is scatter them. First in Winona leaving, then Sam. This then opened Jim to his rebellious nature and lack of respect for authority. Where TOS had George and Winona raise him, encourage him, and follow his career into captaincy with Starfleet, and exhibit pride for him, AOS lacks all of this.

Jim's life was a dead end until Pike showed in that bar and challenged him. Which raises the question, why was Pike there at all? Beyond the fact the Enterprise was being built in Iowa at the time. It was more than just checking the progress of the ship.

Jim took the aptitude tests on a whim, because he could, because he was curious to see how he'd do. Because he knew he would score high, and he got something out of it. He got his own sense of pride knowing what he could accomplish if he put his mind to it, but chose not to. His feelings on Starfleet are complicated. To an extent he blames them for the loss of both parents, and the tone it set for his childhood, especially given the lack of interference on Tarsus.

However, his name flagged for Pike who saw an opportunity, so he sought him out, felt he owed it to George, who was responsible for his own career, and it was Pike that filled the role of pushing him to do better. Pike who gave Jim the direction he needed. Pike who acted as a mentor, but kept a clear division between them as to not be mistaken as a father figure.

Which takes me to Delta Vega and Prime.

During the meld, Jim was exposed to the entirety of the life shared between Prime and his own counterpart. He was able to see the life he could have had were his father not lost, yet he still poses the question: Did I know my father? Because he needs to hear it said, needs to talk to someone about it in some capacity, but keeps his chin up and moves on with the mission.

Having this knowledge, or Prime's perspective on his other self, creates a complex in him. He sees how easy things appeared to be for TOS Kirk, who rose to the level of Captain the proper way. He did not have greatness thrust upon him, but was born into it. Jim's envious of this, envious of the life he could have had were it not for the Romulans, and Nero specifically.

Yet, he still shows compassion and diplomacy in the final confrontation prior to allowing the Narada to be sucked into the black hole.

The knowledge of the transference in this meld is known to him and him alone. I maintain Prime is unaware of what passed because of the recognition of the bond he shared with his own Kirk.

The Sun or Icarus

TOS Kirk is the Sun.

AOS Kirk is Icarus flying towards it, outlined in a beautiful halo of white light.

He is reckless, impulsive, and has no sense of self-preservation. He has his moments of being the sun. Of shining so brightly, because to his core, he is still the same person. But he is different. He is jaded, and can be dark. He has known loss and failure on the deepest levels of his soul, but will not willingly let anyone see this. He will smile, boast, reflect outwards that sense of arrogance and egotism.

It is easier for him to be perceived this way, easier than admitting the truth: he has no idea what he's doing.

[rescue-ram]

3, 26, 42 and 50 for the fic writer meme!

3) What are some tropes or details that you think are characteristic of your work?

My worst habit is getting a really big idea for a fic, writing part of it, then losing steam and not being able to finish. I will come back to you WIPs, I swear!! I also tend towards very introspective narrators, for better or for worse, and whenever I edit I have to constantly ask myself what is the character DOING to make sure I'm not relying too heavily on dialogue. I've also noticed I tend to be annoyingly meticulous and have difficulty eliding details. If a character picks something up they WILL put it back down, I do draw little diagrams to make sure everything's spatial positions stay the same, and I will find myself writing an extra thousand words to explain how a character got to where they are rather than skipping to the good part... which definitely contributes to my difficulties finishing WIPs 😅 As far as pairings and character relationships generally, I'm a sucker for complicated and ambiguous relationships, and pairs who have overcome some kind of inequality to be together. I'm frequently a fetid phone poster so I often notice annoying little typos after publishing, which makes me gnash my teeth. As far as tropes, I like "slow burn build up to big cathartic moment", and "character wrestling with humanity/sense of self", and a lil bit of outsider POV. I also have a tendency to focus on the characters hands in descriptions, and there are DEFINITELY a few phrases I catch myself reusing when I reread my fics, I should probably go through and make a call out post for myself at some point with those ram-isms 😅

26) Would you rather write a fic that had no dialogue or one that had only dialogue?

I know this would only further my bad habit, but definitely dialogue only.

42) Have you ever received a comment that stood out to you for any reason?

Love and light to all commenters everywhere 🥰 But I think the comment that most stood out to me when I received it, was I gave Rescue Bots (my beloved) a chance because of a specific Tumblr user who hyped it up, and then they left a very nice comment on Discretion. I was too depressed to respond at the time, but I was very bemused they found my fic and happy they liked it!

50) Using my free space here to muse on something I've noticed, in reading older fics recently and comparing them to newer fics... There is a lot less homophobia in fics nowadays. I mean this in a neutral way. I think it generally says good things about our culture and LGBT acceptance, and also is probably part of the trend of stronger taboos on controversy in many parts of fandom. But in reading older fics, it wasn't that the characters are haters or anything but homophobia is just an embedded assumption that has to be wrestled with. A lot of pagespace is given to characters working through their own internalized homophobia, wrestling with the closet or coming out, and facing varying levels of rejection from the rest of the cast. Nowadays, it seems like most fics are written as "Everything is canon except these characters have always been gay/bi", or in AUs where things like DADT never existed or gay marriage has always been legal, so there a lot less on page conflict over the characters' sexualities. Yay for people now being able to treat broad acceptance as unremarkable and a given nowadays, is the plusside!

I really started thinking about this the other day after reading two fics. One was a West Wing fic from the year of our Lord 2000, where Toby was both broadly supportive of a relationship between Josh and Sam... and also homophobic. Like, he loved them both and supported their relationship and was the best man at their commitment ceremony, AND was repeatedly vocally grossed out by PDA between them and actively got in between them in public out of fear they'd accidentally out themselves. This behavior was both accepted by the characters and totally uncommented on by the narrative. It was a pretty good fic, but that characterization struck me as being very of its time. In contrast, I was then reading a MASH fic from like last year, and it had Potter say something like "Love is love" and I was just immediately jarred out of the fic. Not in the sense that I think Potter would necessarily be hateful or something- I think he's both compassionate enough and pragmatic enough to decide what two consenting soldiers of similar ranks do in private is none of his business- but like, he's a Presbyterian Regular Army Colonel who was born in 1890-something, "Love is love" does not scan as natural or inevitable for the character to me. It felt like either a missed opportunity for a little character work- maybe Hawkeye is shocked by his easy reaction and they exchange a few lines on how he came to acceptance- or a missed opportunity for drama. And if the author just didn't want to get into it- completely valid- then writing Potter out of the scene would've preserved the suspension of belief better IMO. Reading those fics close together got me thinking about that broader pattern, which again I just find interesting... and also left me a little curious if the extremely frustrating and unfortunate resurgence in atmospheric/cultural homophobia in many places means that older pattern is going to reemerge in the psychosphere of fandom. I think my own fics tend more towards the "background homophobia" side of the force because of my own experiences. And I guess that's my "deep fandom thought" of the week.

[velvethopewrites]

This week’s fic is one of my favorites and one of the first ones I remember getting very excited by, when I first dipped my toe in the destiel fic wheelhouse.

Everybody Needs the Light by opal_bullets (@asecretvice)

Summary:

In the summer of 2005, a gruesome hunt leaves a lonely and hurting Dean to take refuge in a remote Minnesota motel. He only means to stop for the night, yet finds himself compelled to stay. Maybe it’s the old, well loved lodge, or his cozy little cabin, or the spectacular views off the cliffs of Lake Superior.

Or maybe it’s Castiel, the guy who runs the place. Dean’s falling for him fast, but there’s more to complicate the matter than the family business. Something strange is afoot in the Northwoods…Is Cas just caught in the crossfire, or is he the one standing at the center of it all?

Let’s see what we have here:

Stanford-era Dean? Check

Castiel being awkward and otherworldly yet entirely cute? Check

Chuck making an appearance? Check (or is that Chuck? Har,har)

A pop-in surprise visit/cameo with Missouri and Donna? Double check

Angels being their all around bag of dicks-selves? Unfortunately, check.

And finally, Castiel being BAMF? Check. Gabriel being a BAMF? oh yeah, baby, CHECK.

Listen my favorite thing in the world of fic (besides two person triangle) is an AU that sticks canon things in and twists them just slightly to the left to tell a story that we can all recognize and yet still rejoice about the differences. This story is so perfectly that in all the ways.

First, the prose is stellar. So many feels with Dean being alone on the road - thinking about how his father and Sam have both abandoned him. You can really feel his isolation and he’s so young here- not quite so hardened and not quite so ‘daddy’s blunt instrument’ and god, it is such a joy getting to know this version of Dean. A Dean who sticks whole peanut butter cookies in his mouth because damn, they’re good. A Dean who looks at Castiel and thinks, ‘blue, blue, oh my god, BLUE’ and likes it. Likes Cas. There’s dancing and swing music as well as Zepplin and, of course, kissing. Lots of lovely kissing.

The banter/dialogue between the two is also just so… guh. Good. Brilliant. They fall in love perfectly. The author is so talented that they truly create pictures with their words and I found myself being very able to ‘see’ every scene. The words practically dance off the screen, pulling you in completely, and you happily find yourself lost in this world.

He walked further into the building, trying to see if maybe someone was sitting on a chair or couch. He realized then that there must have been another light on around the corner in the dining room because there was a large shadow cast across the lounge. It dashed over the furniture to climb up the record shelves and the west wall. Dean stopped and blinked, trying to make sense of it. Something long like a pillar with a thinner thing in front of it and a mass atop or behind it—

Lightning flashed—

A bright flare for a single second, sharpening the shape into focus—

The thunderous rumble hot on its heels shook Dean to the core, because it was no pillar. It was the silhouette of a man in profile, a monster in profile, staring down, holding a spear-like weapon and from its back sprouted…wings? Appendages of some kind. They seemed to gently flare before settling back again—or was that just the next flash of lightning pressing and pulling the shadows?

Dean breathed through the adrenaline and put his hand on his gun, though he stopped short of drawing it. The rain and thunder masked his steps across the hardwood; he passed the check-in desk and crept up to the corner where lounge met dining room. He pressed himself against the wall, turned his head, cautiously peeked around the corner…and felt like a fucking idiot.

There was no strange creature. It was just Castiel, paused in the middle of mopping, head bowed. As for the wings, all the chairs in the dining room were upturned and on top of the tables. The large mass of shadows must have been them, growing bigger and smaller as the lightning allowed.

That Dean sees but doesn’t see is one of the best aspects of the fic. There are many strange things going around the hotel that should be making Dean’s inner monster detector go off, but somehow, he remains bewitched, a bit bothered and whole lot of bewildered when around Castiel. Against all his usual instincts, he stays put for once in his life and he begins to enjoy simply living. He even decides to reach out to Sam - not saying anything at first, just sending his brother pictures from his phone and it’s a thing of beauty. He reaches out and lets the silence between them speak its volumes. No fighting, no sour words, just one brother to another.

The action in the last part of the fic is exciting and it ends in a great climax that will definitely leave you wanting more. It’s only six chapters, but God, what chapters! I honestly wanted to crawl into the story and visit Cas’s hotel and the surrounding area of Lake Superior - the author is brilliant at making everything in the fic just…come alive. You can understand why Dean is attracted to the place - you can understand why Castiel has lingered so long. Treat yourself today and get lost in this fic -you won’t be sorry.

Five out of Five Bees: 🐝🐝🐝🐝🐝

omg it’s FAN FICTION FRIDAY

Reblog and promote a fic of yours <3

[homosexuality-at-its-finest]

Thanks for answering my last ask about the requests! 🥰

If possible I'd like to request something: male reader is Steve Roger's adopted son (adopted after he came back from being frozen lmao) and the reader is secretly dating Peter Parker!

I don't know if it's too specific or too complicated, but I was imagining something like: reader is like an avenger too. He doesn't have powers but has fighting skills and is a very sneaky and swift fighter much like Black Widow. He fights occasionally but his father is always hesitant on letting him participate in highly dangerous missions, he's very protective of his son. That would all just be like background information just give the story some base, but the plot itself i was thinking was just about Steve discovering his son is dating Peter - and, with that, discovering reader is gay - and he gets protective, possibly interrogates Peter and stuff like that. Obviously very fluffy at the end with everyone happy but I guess you can just work on it how you think it's best! If it's too vague or too complex I can try to rewrite the request if you'd like ☺️

Maybe Steve discovers that during a mission! I think that would be interesting - if you like it of course!

Plot: Requested

Pairing: Steve Rogers & Son reader + Peter Parker x Male reader

Y/n: Your name

N/n: Nickname

H/c: Hair color

Warnings: Fighting, cursing, blood, protective dad TM Steve, character injury, coming out, supportive Steve, adopted reader, fluff, slight angst, kinda Steve’s POV

Word count: 1236

Being the son of Steve Rodger’s, aka Captain America had never been an easy feat. He had adopted Y/n after he got out of the ice, needing someone to have in the complete mystery the world was to him. He immediately loved the spunky boy, who was outspoken and reminded him of his younger self.

On many occasions’ Y/n came home with bruises littering his body, but a boyish smile adorned on his lips. The boy just seemed to find trouble without even trying, so Steve decided to teach his son how to fight. It was quite a surprise when Y/n was a complete natural, able to take his father down after a few weeks of training.

The teenage boy’s confidence only seemed to grow with training and fighting, and much to Steve’s displeasure his son ended up joining the avengers. It was one of the only times the father and son argued, going from screaming at each other to the silent treatment for days.

Steve had to admit, his son could kick some serious ass, even beating Clint during a spar, leaving the assassin on the mat groaning in pain and eventually tapping out. Then came in Peter parker, in all his geeky glory, immediately drawing his son’s attention. Steve was hesitant about the boy; he didn’t want Peter causing more trouble for Y/n in the long run.

The father couldn’t deny that his son seemed happier when Peter came into his life, spending most of his time with the young genius and his friends. It was like a moth to a flame, Y/n gravitated towards the boy in a way Steve couldn’t place a word to. If he didn’t know any better, he’d think his son was enamored with Parker. He promptly reminded himself that his son wasn’t gay (There was no issue if he was though) Steve just assumed his son would tell him if that was the case.

That belief was completely changed on a mission though, Y/n and Peter accompanied the team, taking down one of the last HYDRA bases that was left. He had to admit that the kids were holding up well, he could see his son flying around, adorned in all black, including the black mechanical wings on his back. Y/n had made those himself, claiming that they needed more air support than just Tony, Rhodey and Sam.

Every time Steve watched Y/n fly around he felt his heart jump out of his chest, he knew his son could handle himself, but damn it, it was a paternal instinct. “How are we looking up there?” Steve called over the comms, watching as the three flying beings fought off any air support, and diving down to help when needed.

“Well pops judging by the fact that we’re all heading towards the ground for support I’d day good.” Came his sons sarcastic reply, and Steve had to hold back a small smirk. Usually, he’d reprimand someone for talking like that, but Y/n was a special case.

“N/n could you head my way, kinda getting swamped over here.” Parker’s high pitched and young voice rang through the comms, and Steve watched as his beloved son took off once more. He could hear the two young superhero’s grunting and making banter back and forth over the comms as the fight continued.

What took the captain off guard was the sound of his son crying out in pain and the panicked sound of Peter calling out “Y/n!” It felt like someone had grabbed his heart and ripped it out of his chest as he heard Peter call “We have an agent down! Y/n’s down!” Never in Steve’s many years of life did he move as fast as he was right now. Anyone who got in his was down before they could even raise their weapon.

When he saw Peter cradling Y/n against his chest, fingers brushing through his son’s H/c hair, the panic only worsened. The mask Y/n wore was ripped off, lying on the ground beside him; and Steve could clearly see the blood leaking from his son’s side.

As the super soldier got closer, he could hear Peter rambling quietly. “It’s okay baby, I know it hurts.” The teenagers voice sounded so broken; it made his chest tighten even more. “Your dads coming and then we’ll get you to med bay, you’ll be good as new.” He reassured Y/n. Steve couldn’t even bring himself to care when Peter leaned down and pressed a kiss to Y/n’s lips, giving the other boy a tight smile.

From there everything felt like a blur, Steve carried Y/n to the jet and next thing he knew his son was in recovery, a tired smile on his face as Steve entered the room. “Hey pops.” Y/n’s voice sounded so tired and strained, it made Steve want to break down and cry.

“Hey kiddo, how’re you feeling?” He questioned, sitting in the chair beside his son’s bed, immediately holding his hand. “Like I got shot twice.” Y/n deadpanned, giving his father a cheeky grin. Steve huffed out a tired laugh, eyes running over his son’s bruised body. “Yeah, yeah that makes sense.” The soldier chuckled lightly, giving Y/n’s hand a squeeze. The two sat in comfortable silence for a few moments, the only sound in the room was the rhythmic beeps of the heart monitor. After a few moments of psyching himself up, Steve spoke.

“So, you and Parker huh?” He kept his voice light, eyebrows furrowed slightly. His son’s cheeks flushed, looking away from his father. “Oh, uh yeah.” He could hear the beeping increase slightly. “Why didn’t you tell me kiddo?” He questioned, feeling a bit hurt that his son had kept something so important from him.

“I didn’t know how you’d react, being from the 40’s and all...” Y/n trailed off, eyebrows furrowed a bit. Steve felt his stomach twist a bit. Y/n was scared he wouldn’t accept him being gay? “Oh sweetheart, I don’t care if you’re gay, I love you no matter what, you’re still my baby boy.”

The smile Y/n gave him put the sun to shame, making a smile spread across his own lips. “How long have you and Peter been together?” He questioned lightly, his thumb brushing over the teenagers’ knuckles. “6 months.” Y/n replied shyly, flush darkening under his father’s questioning. That continued for about an hour before Peter entered the room, and immediately the protective dad mode came out.

“So, Parker what are your intentions with my son?” Y/n let out an indignant sound, slapping his dads’ arm. Peter’s entire face flushed bright red, looking like a deer caught in headlights. “T-to make him happy, sir.” Came Peter’s shy reply, glancing over at his boyfriend for help.

“Pops, seriously? Leave him alone.” Y/n gave his father an annoyed look, making Steve shrink back slightly, his kid was slightly terrifying, okay? The father watched as the two boys interacted, watching them for a few moments, before excusing himself from the room. If he came back later and the two were curled up in bed together asleep, well he wasn’t going to say anything.

[biisexualemma]

tired pt.2. bucky barnes

word count: 2.3k

warnings: violence, mentions of blood

requested: n/a

plot: you get injured during the mission to locate karli

a/n: so this is sort of a part 2 to the winter soldier imagine i wrote! i'm gonna be posting a part 3 soon too, i'm pretty much following each episode lol, this is obviously episode 4, and then next part with follow episode 5! hope you enjoy! i am very much enjoying writing for bucky atm! let me know what you think anyway! (sorry if there are any minor mistakes i cannot read this over again i am tired lol)

pt.1 / pt.3 / pt.4 masterlist

you knew this was a bad idea. any idea that involved trusting zemo was bad. which you had reiterated to your team multiple times now, but here you still were, relying on zemo to get to karli. to top it all off, captain america and his nosey sidekick had found you guys, somehow, and invited themselves to tag along. too much toxic masculinity was floating around in the air when john walker tagged along anywhere, it was suffocating. made you wanna punch him whenever he opened his mouth and that arrogant, condescending tone came out. that, and he was resolved to shamelessly coming onto you whenever he spoke to you. you were sure he only did it so he could feel more in control of the situation. you tried not to let it get to you, but sometimes he was plain insufferable.

bucky already hated walker with every fibre of his being, and he definitely didn't take kindly to his flirting with you either. the only thing holding either of you back from decking walker was sam, and his level head. but you were constantly stealing subtle glances and touches with one another when you could without bringing too much attention to it. you had both decided it would only make things way more complicated during this mission if your relationship was out in the open. there were too many things that could go wrong, you definitely didn't want your relationship to be used against you. so only sam remained in the loop. everyone else was blind to your affection for the super soldier, and his for you.

the blonde haired fraud and his right-hand man, had somehow managed to make everything ten times worse again. you found yourself scouring the building, looking for karli, after mr-i-have-jurisdiction charged into the room where sam had been having a, somewhat productive, conversation with the girl. he barged in there, throwing around hollow threats, like karli would cave and come lightly after everything. he was ignorant and he was an idiot and you could've killed him for screwing up another mission.

you held your gun at arms length, kicking the door open in front of you, edging your way in, eyes scoping the room for any signs of movement. it was empty. you lowered your gun, making your way across the floor to the door leading to the next room. "east wing is clear so far, one last room to check and then i'll circle back to the stair--"

your words caught in your throat as a grunt left your mouth, feeling the blunt impact to the back of your head. you stumbled forwards, clumsily spinning around to see one of karli's super soldiers towering over you, an old pipe gripped in his hand. you quickly lifted your gun to shoot but the bullet hit the ceiling when he swung the pipe, knocking the weapon out of your hand.

you gritted your teeth, your head was throbbing where the pipe had made contact, and now you were weaponless. you ducked swiftly as he swung the pipe at you once again. you dived forwards, trying to catch him off guard and using your full force to tackle him. ordinarily, this would have knocked him off his feet and you would have used the upper hand to locate your gun and seize it before he could recover.

but this guy, unfortunately for you, was far from ordinary. he was significantly stronger than you were.

"all clear, y/n?" sam's voice echoed in your ear through the comms but you were far too distracted by your current predicament to answer him straight away.

"shit," you mumbled under your breath. the man had barely flinched, before switching it on you. before you could retreat, his arms grabbed your torso and you were halted, heaved off of your feet. "i need backup!" you shouted desperately into your comms, hoping one of them would turn up sooner rather than later. his grip was painfully strong as you tried to scramble out of his hold. but, with almost no strain on his behalf, he hurled you across the room, your body slamming into the brick wall and crumpling against the hard floor.

you let out a wheeze, you felt like the air had been knocked right out of you, and you definitely heard something crack. you clutched your side, wincing as you clumsily dodged the blows he threw at you, trying to clamber away from him. you had to pull yourself together, get up and get to your gun before this escalated any further.

you propped yourself up onto your arms, pushing yourself back and away from the super soldier towering over you. "sam, buck," your breathing was laboured as you tried to reach them again, after hearing no response from your initial plea for help. "east wing. i'm unarmed. super soldier with a pipe and a mean swing-- i need backup-- now."

you cringed, sharp pains rushing from your chest the further you dragged yourself away from the soldier. that was when you noticed the gash along his calf, blood soaking his pants. that was your ticket. you waited for him to swing again, dodging it only by a split second, but took your window and kicked as hard as you could at the open wound on his leg. he let out a loud groan, his leg collapsing under the shock of the pain.

you, however, scrambled as quick as you could, onto your feet and ran to the gun sitting on the floor behind him. before you got too far, your legs were swept out from under you as the soldier grabbed your ankle, your face slamming into the concrete floor as you fell. you let out a groan, followed by a soft whimper, blood now pooling from your nose. you desperately stretched out a hand for the gun that was just out of your reach. his grip tightened on your ankle, you felt yourself being hauled backwards before you lunged one last time for your weapon.

your hand clasped around the gun, twisting yourself onto your back, not hesitating to fire at the super-soldier attached to your limb. the bullet fired straight into his shoulder, he let out a shriek of pain, his grip lost on your ankle. you hurried as far away from him as you could on your hands and knees, your breathing shaky and uneven as the adrenaline coursed through you.

you sat still, legs brought up to your chest, your breathing heavy as you watched the super soldier grip his shoulder, trying to stop the bleeding. you held the gun up, directed at him in case he made any more movements. you were panting, your hand moving to your head, wincing as the throbbing pain started to return, and your comedown ensued.

"oh shit," you heard from the doorway. "shit," he muttered harshly, his footsteps drawing nearer to you. you were preoccupied, the pain was spreading quicker now that your heart rate was slowing down. you felt the sharpness in your ribs every time you took a breath in, ringing in your ears growing louder and the throbbing in your nose intensifying as blood dripped onto your shirt.

you flinched when his hand brushed up against yours, your unsteady hands still gripped tightly around your gun. "hey," he whispered, you only just about heard his soft voice echo over the ringing. you noticed the familiar metal hand grazing yours and your grip loosened, letting him remove the gun from your hand. your eyes trailed up to his comfortingly familiar, blue eyes. you let out a soft sigh of relief, cracking a weak smile.

"took your time," you mumbled, teasingly, trying to ease some of the tension you were feeling. you moved your hand to your mouth, blood transferring onto your fingertips from where it had trickled from your nose onto your lips. you let out a halfhearted, tired, chuckle, your face contorting as the pain in your chest intensified. you were relieved that it was over, and that he had been the one to find you. you let out a strained breath, "i'm gonna need one hell of a drink when this is all over."

bucky, however, was examining every inch of you, his eyes shifting all over you, frowning as he found more blood the more places he looked. he watched your hands shake as you touched your lips, the lump grew in his throat. he knew you were trying to make light of the situation, to ease his mind but he could tell you were hurting, a lot.

he moved his hand to your face, his thumb brushing your cheek. his stomach lurched when your eyes met his again, the blood soaking your face was a sight he never wanted to have to see again after today. as impossible as that would be in this line of work. "let's get you fixed up, then we'll see about that drink, alright, doll?" his voice was soft, quiet when he spoke to you. you nodded, reassurance slowly washing over you with his fingers caressing your cheek. his touch was more comforting to you than he'd ever realise.

he dragged his eyes away from yours, over to the super soldier who was still squirming, his hand clamped over the wound in his shoulder. bucky glanced at you for a split second, his expression harder than before. you knitted your eyebrows delicately, noticing the shift in his temper. "wait here," he mumbled, his jaw twitching as he moved away from your side. you felt cold with the loss of contact.

bucky moved to tower over the super solider, his head tilting slightly, not hesitating for even a second as he raised his leg, quickly slamming the heel of his foot against his face. the solider dropped back onto the ground, now unconscious. "stay down," he mumbled under his breath.

"c'mon, we gotta' find sam and zemo first," he ignored your amused expression, helping you onto your feet.

-

you'd returned to the hotel room now you had zemo in your custody again. zemo was nursing his headache with a glass of whiskey, sam busying himself with something on his laptop, and bucky had pulled you into the bathroom to help clean you up.

"how ya' feelin', doll?" he quirked an eyebrow at you, positioning you so you were seated, while he hovered over you. he busied himself, soaking a cloth in warm water so he could tend to your wounds. you shrugged, lowering your gaze to where your hands sat in your lap, shaking less now you'd had that drink.

"i'll be fine," you muttered, unconcerned with your well being for now. your mind was swimming with thoughts on how you were going to handle the karli situation. no doubt, walker would be knocking around soon too, just to make things harder for you guys, and probably try and twist the story around to make it seem like karli getting away had nothing to do with him.

bucky wasn't convinced by your answer, but he didn't push you. instead, his hand moved to your chin, using his forefinger and thumb to tilt your head upwards. you saw his jaw clench before he started to wipe away the dried blood from your face. you flinched when he touched the bridge of your nose, recoiling from his touch. "ow, that kinda' hurt," you admitted.

"suck in your breath," he instructed, his jaw stiff as he spoke. "if i don't clean it up now it'll only get worse," you just nodded, doing as he said. you held your breath, biting the inside of your cheek as he cleaned up the rest of the blood (his spare hand moving to the back of your neck to stop you from pulling away). "all done," you let out your breath, your eyes were watery, a reflex from the sensitivity of your bruised nose. "y'good?"

you nodded, letting yourself fall forward, resting your forehead against his stomach, trying to disguise the range of emotions you were feeling. he let out a sigh, his hand still tucked around the back of your head, tangling his fingers in your hair. "you don't have to keep up this act," he spoke after a while. exhausted, you let him hold you up, relaxing yourself against him. "it's just me."

you sniffled, pulling back to look up at him. he felt his chest tighten at the sight of your bruised face, stinging red eyes and pink cheeks. you weren't often vulnerable with anyone, but you were so worn out from everything going on, and bucky was looking at you in a way that made you feel so safe, you couldn't help but let go a little.

"i'm just tired, buck," your voice wavering. he moved both hands to either side of your face, pushing your hair out of the way. he cupped your cheeks, his thumbs brushing against your flushed skin. you relished in his touch, comforted by the warmth he was radiating, soothing you. "this missions been hard."

"i know, doll," he hummed, his gaze softening watching you relax against his palms, your eyelids drooping shut. he gulped. "let's get you clean, then you can get some rest."

you hummed softly. "thanks, buck," he took a step back, his hands leaving your face for a second. you hastily moved your hands to his, stopping him from moving further away from you. "no," your voice came out hushed. "just a bit longer," you pleaded, you weren't ready to let go of his comfort just yet.

bucky simply nodded, moving his hands back to either side of your face, letting your head fall against his stomach again. he raked his fingers through your hair soothingly, holding you for as long as you needed. he was just relieved you felt comfortable enough to be vulnerable with him, it meant you felt just as much for him as he did for you.

[shallowseeker]

#Prev - LOL thank you! 🥰

I should be more clear about how I envision Ellen, because I do agree with you that she has a long fuse and is pretty cool-headed.

Mary often makes mission-oriented choices: I think Mary's decisions re: British Men of Letters absolutely have potential to drag those old, irrational emotions and wounds to surface surrounding Bill's death. :) So, it really depends on where in the timeline they meet.

I think Ellen and hunting is complicated: It's probably less about John-Bill per se and more about issues of hunting, danger, and trust. Sam and Dean, to some degree, earned their trust with her. Ellen would be naturally suspicious of any hunter, even Mary. (She ran a bar for them, so I sort of see her naturally sizing up and clocking everyone out of habit.) And Ellen would perk up at Mary's caginess. I think Ellen, being less close to Mary, might pick up on her lies more readily. And I still see Ellen being rubbed wrong by the Campbell my-way-or-highway... Ellen hunts, but usually only when shit really hits the fan, and I feel like she tends to be more cautious. Ellen is more reserved in this area, perhaps? Now that I think on it, Ellen's relationship to hunting in general is really complicated, isn't it!

I agree that common ground is possible: Ellen also could be understanding of Mary's losses and trauma, like a good bar therapist! They both lost husbands!

I also agree Ellen bringing up John could be explosive: You're right. Ellen's knowledge of corrupt!John has powder-keg-like potential. I agree with you that Mary might take up for John more than we the audience may be comfortable with! She knew the best of him. (I mean, I think about how shitty Dean was to Lily Sunder, lol.)

If Jo was mentored by Mary... The minute Jo comes into it, IF Jo comes into it, I can see shit goin' down, especially if Mary starts acting as a surrogate father figure. I can see Ellen drawing parallels between the dangerous soldier mindsets of Mary and John if this came to pass! But I do see it needing Jo as catalyst moreso than Ellen taking up for Sam and Dean. Idk why. I just think she's not up in their emotional business a lot of the time. Perhaps, though! Ellen is protective.

I don't think Ellen would come out of the gate with fists swinging. The root of it would be the destabilization of trust, and Mary absolutely lives in a mission-oriented headspace for much if her latter SPN seasons, both with the MOL and Apocalypse World. (I happen to love this about Mary, too. She gets to go cold and, like all our mains, and be a bit of a martry instead of reaching out to loved ones. I'm thinking of the Ramiel mission in particular!)

///

Jo and British MoL? Say it ain't so! As for Jo, she left us when she was remarkably young, so who knows? She said she used hunting to feel close to Bill, and that always stuck with me! I think it's at least possible that she is vulnerable to an organization like the British Men of Letters, doubly so if she got taken under Mary's wing and complimented on her independance and skill. She's not particularly a mission-oriented idealogue, but she is incredibly reckless. She wanted to have purpose and matter, which was an element of her character that was refreshingly disconnected from Sam or Dean. Jo also seems to overestimate herself, like most young ppl. She'd probably think she could handle MOL if they did something she wasn't down with.

Seeing TheWinchesters play out, I'm also struck by how Millie-John remind me a bit (in broad strokes) of Ellen-Jo.

///

Jody vs Mary... Ah, I forgot about the Asa Fox funeral. I'd have to rewatch that. Mary was feeling like a complete outsider in general, wasn't she? With that in mind, I can definitely see her having bitterness at anyone who has easy comradery with Sam and Dean. (This is why Mary clings to Cas a little bit at first and puts all her shit on him. He's a fellow outsider-protector-lone wolf type.)

However, Mary's bitterness seems to culminate in distancing herself, so I wonder if it would come to a head without a catalyst (I suppose that's why my mind pivoted to Jo)! I wonder what other events could force the issue? There are probably plenty!

I'm def not an expert on Jody Mills, as I never really clicked with her character as deeply as others, but maybe someone else can chime in!

This is fun to think about. Very many thanks to you! 🤘☕️🧇🍻

okay you know how mary was like weirdly against jody just bc she was A Woman In Her Sons Lives (she had a sarcastic comment about Jody mothering them....mary babe they were born in the same decade). anyway. with that in mind how do you think mary would react to meeting ellen, her son's actual surrogate mother?

I so love questions like this. My bestest tumblr friends give me excuses to ramble into the quiet of the night. Anyway, there are some wonderful opportunities for tensions between Ellen and Mary, but I'm not convinced the main ones have anything to do with Sam or Dean.

///

1. The old wound of John using Bill as bait. There's potential for Ellen to distrust Mary. At worst, she might displace anger of Bill's death onto Mary. This could manifest as Ellen refusing to go around Mary or being contrarian to the point of undermining Mary's authority, questioning her tactics, and nitpicking her decisions (in the guise of playing Devil's advocate ofc).

This would aggravate and heighten Mary's natural defense mechanism for dealing with fear and insecurity: "my way or highway."

///

2. Training Jo. Jo has some personality characteristics that are very like John: a heritage of hunting but being new to hunting itself and the very nature of hunting to feel close to a father. So, I think this hunting partnership would feel very comfortable for Mary.

When it comes to her own children, Mary wants to protect Sam and Dean from hunting (at least, at first). This is part of why she leans into blaming Cas as "co-protector-surrogate-spouse" in season 12 & why she's so vulnerable to the British Men of Letters' pitch, "a world without monsters."

But with Jo, there's none of that parental baggage. Mary naturally operates in a fatherly way to Jo. To Jo, Mary becomes Samuel. Ergo, you get an unhinged Ellen trying to forbid a Mary-Jo mentorship. Depending on the timeline and how frosty things are with Winchester dynamics, you might also get a frustrated and jealous Sam or Dean (of Jo)!

I'd bet my whole ass that Ellen would not jive with the above two mistakes of Mary's: Ellen naturally gravitated towards Cas's personality and stability, so she'd hold a grudge here, and she's so naturally suspicious of others that she'd hate British MoL. (Jo, on the other hand, could totally get sucked in for the grand sense of purpose, I think.)

///

Mode of hunting: Ellen does hunt, but her whole way of operating is different to Mary.

Ellen likes having a homebase and she likes being a shelter. She's a bit like how older Dean turned out in this regard. (Interesting that one of Dean's dreams was to own a safe harbor/roadhouse/hunting bar.)

Ellen gets very explosive and controlling when it comes to protecting loved ones, and when danger arrives, her first instinct is to yank everyone else out of the fight. Her fears are big and strong, and they come out mean. (It's not that Ellen is scared for herself. She's brave enough to face a bear bare-handed; just don't put her husband/daughter/loves ones in the line of fire)!

Mary, on the other hand, seems more comfortable being more nomadic in general, despite having relatively stable-ish parents + family home growing up (by hunter standards, anyway).

This is a part of Mary that's like Sam. I think having Samuel and Deanna somewhat stabilized her childhood and made this "mode" of operating feel safer for Mary, just as having Dean as caretaker made branching out feel a little safer for Sam (comparatively). At their worst though, like practically everyone in Supernatural, both give away their personhood to missions. That age-old desire to make up for personal failings in life / spare their loved ones / save the world, etc., and so, they become become reckless.

Whereas Dean and Ellen both crave being a little more stationary, or at least tethered to a home, to feel more emotionally secure.

///

Anyway, that's all I thought of tonight!

I might add to this later and revisit some Ellen-Jo arguments! I recently rewatched those seasons, and though I remembered Ellen fondly, she never struck me as particularly motherly to Sam and Dean, outside of the abstract notion of it.

As for Mary, her aloofness to Jody was influenced by her British MoL brainwashing, I believe. Her bitterness was informed by her fresh grief, loss of purpose, feeling iced out, not fitting into current time, and plugging that space with the heroic depersonalization of mission above all else. I'll throw away my personhood to get rid of the monsters, so you can be happy and get the life you deserve. I don't matter (and maybe my happiness is lost to me, anyways).

The bitterness that accompanied it all was so interesting, too.

At some point, she uses the SPN-time-honored phrase, "I'm doing this...for you. (To protect you.)" Mary chooses war and goes soldier-mode. Ellen doesn't seem to dissociate/compartmentalize quite the same way--at least, not that we see on screen?

[aries-writingblog]

Whatever It Takes

Summary: When Sam gets injured on a mission, YN will do anything to fix her mistakes. While she worries about fixing Sam, Bucky picks up on her guilt. Picking up the pieces of herself she dropped in her frantic efforts.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word count: 2322

Warnings: panic/ anxiety, mentions of blood and character injury

AN: This was one requested by the lovely and wonderful @cherry-season who gave me so much inspiration to write! I hope I did it justice. Happy reading!! GIF is not my own, credit to original creator.

Her heart pounded against her ribs, threatening to break free of its skeletal cage. Anxious adrenaline flowed in her veins as she paced. Hand rubbing across the back of her neck, impatiently waiting for answers.

It had been an hour since she and Sam returned from their mission. The mission that went completely and horrendously wrong. It started off fine- it started normal. Then it got twisted in a way YN couldn’t even comprehend.

She had been watching his back. She always watched her partner’s back. So what went wrong? What went so off rails- what did she do? How could she have let this happen?

“Miss LN?” YN’s head snapped to the source of the noise. A doctor- still in their surgery gear. She took a shaky inhale, her nerves were decimated. “Why don’t you take a seat- just… try to relax a bit.”

“How- how, where is Sam? Is he okay?” She demanded, moving a step toward the doctor. The woman eased her backwards, gently settling her into a chair. Latex covered fingers pried in between her own glove covered hands. Unclenching the tightly wound fists she had created.

The doctor gave a small, apologetic smile. It quickly fell, giving way to a pressed line of condolence. YN’s stomach plummeted, nausea crawling across her organs. Turning her stomach. Bile rising in her throat. She knew that look. It was the one she had to give to victims when they weren’t going to make it.

“There’s been a slight complication.” She reported quietly, her gaze soft as she studied the agent before her. She was unraveling and quickly. Hands shaking, goosebumps raising on her arms.

“I don’t understand,” YN swallowed, throat aching as her nose burned. Eyes watering from unshed tears. Blurring her eyesight. She blinked them back roughly. “You said you would fix him- what complication?”

“Both kidneys were compromised during the mission- he made it here just in time for us to stabilize him but he is going to need a rapid organ donation to survive.” The doctor informed steadily, keeping her voice even and low. YN’s fingers curled again, trapping her hands between her own. The doctor didn’t blink, unfazed by the strength in her grip. “It’s a difficult task but we have everyone we can working on finding at least one quickly. It’s more complicated due to his blood type- we haven’t been able to find anything available nearby.”

YN sniffled, her nose stuffing up as water slipped down her cheeks. She bit down on her lip, hard enough to draw blood. The coppery taste coating her tongue.

It wasn’t supposed to go like this. It had been an easy mission- what did she screw up? Why did it have to be Sam? It should’ve been her, she should’ve-

Her eyes snapped up, meeting the doctor’s concerned features. She could still do something. It wasn’t too late. YN released her hold, wiping across her face. Erasing the remnants of her distress. Her bottom lip trembled but she forced the sentence out anyway.

“What’s the type?”

“He’s O positive.” The doctor didn’t hesitate in a response.

A heavy weight began to lift from her chest, she swallowed back the rough, scratchy feeling in her throat.

“I’m O negative- does that work, can that match? I’ll give whatever he needs.” Her words tripped over themselves, rushing out. Any way to compensate. She was the one who got Sam hurt, she was responsible. She should clean it up.

The doctor’s face brightened almost instantaneously, her eyebrows lifting. Eyes wide.

“It can-“ She cut herself off, pulling YN to her feet. “We need to run a tissue sample test to make sure that you’re compatible. While it’s running, fill out the paperwork just in case.”

YN rushed after the woman, hurrying through the hallways. She could save Sam. The guilt burned in her chest, sinking to meet the rising anxiety in her stomach. Creating a turbulent, vile mixture of self loathing. It had to match… this has to work. Otherwise… she would forever be known as the person who killed Sam Wilson.

~~~~~~

The first thing she became conscious of was a tense pressure on her hand. Then came a muted, muffled noise. It was familiar, albeit distorted and distant. A small groan fell from her lips. In response, the pressure became more intense. A firmer hold. Her eyes blinked open slowly, her head felt light, as if it was floating a thousand feet above her body.

“There she is.” YN turned her head as far as possible, which wasn’t much distance, eyes cutting the rest of the way. She tried to clear her vision, blinking to wear the groggy remnants of sleep away. “How you feelin’?”

“Like shit.” She groaned, throat scratchy and dry. Bucky released his hold, standing to pour a glass of water for her.

“Well, it’s to be expected.” He sighed, stepping closer to her bedside. He grasped her chin gently, angling the lip of the cup to her mouth. Tilting the glass slowly, allowing her time to swallow the water down greedily. “Unlike a major surgery cause, there’s no need to tell the people you love you’re having surgery. Especially not if it’s emergent.”

YN’s lips quirked at the corners. She hadn’t really been thinking of anyone but Sam in the moment. It all happened so fast, the whole day seemed to have been but a blur in her memory. She couldn’t recall details, her thoughts crashed against a hazy wall as she glimpsed back.

“Sorry… didn’t really know what was happening until it did.” She spoke slowly, words felt like molasses on her tongue. Bucky didn’t seem to mind, gently brushing her hair back before returning to his previous seat at her bedside. He pressed a soft kiss to her knuckles, giving a quick squeeze of reassurance.

“I understand…” He told her, a soft smile playing on his features. There was a melancholy glimmer in his irises. They betrayed him, as usual. “I was just scared that you… left.”

All Bucky had received was a phone call from the medical wing. Just that he was written down as YN LN’s emergency medical contact and that she had been in surgery. Granted, it had mainly been his fault- he didn’t listen any further for more details. The phone dropped from his hand and he bolted from their shared apartment. Rushing frantically toward her. Panic sloshing, ripping into his chest. Shredding his last hopes of sanity as his thoughts raced.

YN moved her fingers up to his wrist, the bass of his heartbeat thumped prominently into her own body. In response, Bucky’s fingers curled over her wrist, searching for the same feeling. It was slightly weakened, her heartbeat, but it was there. She was alive. A gentle, sleepy smile appeared on her lips. Eyes almost closed again.

“I’m never leaving.” She promised, applying pressure to his wrist. Bucky returned the smile and the gesture, the knot of emotion in his throat unraveling in steady increments. Allowing him to breathe easier.

He reached over, tugging her blankets back up with his free hand. Over her torso in an attempt to contain some of the heat the flimsy hospital sheets provided. He sniffed, clearing his throat. Turning his face away from her view.

“Get some rest, daredevil.” Bucky instructed, sliding his chair closer. Head resting beside their entwined hands. His blue eyes twinkled with tears he had kept bottled away. All YN wanted was to reach over and brush them away but she felt unconsciousness creeping up from behind. Waiting to drag her back into the darkness. Her mouth wouldn’t open, tongue wouldn’t move. Her eyes drifted closed; her last picture was Bucky’s beautiful face resting beside her.

~~~~~~

Bucky sighed gently, curling closer into the warmth she provided. They couldn’t sleep like they used to. He was accustomed to wrapping around her like a vine, keeping her body close to him. The weight, the pressure and warmth, kept him present. Kept him calm. Even if he awoke in a panic, which had eased in the past few months, the feeling of YN’s figure pressed to his always seemed to relieve his frazzled, frayed nerves.

But now, after the surgery, he couldn’t hold her the way he wanted. He couldn’t provide the comfort he craved to give her. And she needed it. He wasn’t blind. Bucky knew exactly why she had rushed into that surgery. The blame that she had placed on herself was too vast. Much too heavy for her to bear alone.

So he tried to convey the comfort in other ways. Helping her to the bathroom and to the shower. Making her meals and sitting with her while she ate. Reading to her, going through as many pages as it took for her to fall asleep. Keeping her distracted from her bed rest. Bringing her presents, mostly just notes that Sam had written and asked Bucky to deliver.

Sam didn’t blame her. Especially not after she saved his life like she did. Bucky had visited when he woke up, explained the situation. How she felt, how it was eating away at her. And he couldn’t get out of bed yet- he was still being heavily monitored by the medical staff. So, for the past few weeks he had resorted to video calls and notes to her. An attempt to cheer her up. Bucky was relieved to see it was working.

“Buck?” YN’s voice was muffled by their shared comforter. He hummed in response, not fully committed to the idea of waking up. His senses were still slightly dull, lulled into submission by the warm body at his side. “Your arm is really heavy and I really have to pee.”

Bucky grunted, shuffling to slide his arm away from her hips where it had lain. YN shimmied over to the edge of the bed, groaning as she pushed her weight over the side. She stumbled, her hand pressed to the gauze padding on her abdomen. Bucky scrambled out of the bed, sheets tangling around his ankles.

“You’re not suppose to do it on your own.” He grumbled, his tone was sleep- laden. His eyes weren’t even fully open yet. YN scoffed, accepting his arm anyway. Together, they crept toward the bathroom slowly, most of her weight against his side. “You coulda asked, doll.”

“I can handle going to the bathroom by myself, Bucky.” YN insisted, her side glare was fatal. Eyes narrowed and full of frustrated fury. “You don’t have to wait on me hand and foot.”

“But I want to.” He replied simply, leaning against the doorframe, gazing into the bedroom to give her privacy. He didn’t need to, he had already been witness to every inch of her skin. Every mark on her skin, every freckle and scar. But he figured she would appreciate it none the less. Give her a controllable amount of autonomy. “I like doing it.”

It was the honest truth. Bucky reveled in the fact that every ounce of his attention was placed on her and her alone. He liked to care for her. He liked making her coffee and meals, helping her up and down. It was something he knew the old Bucky did often. The old Bucky took care of Steve when he was sick, and Steve’s mother when he could help. When his sisters were under the weather. It was something engraved in his bones: caring for those he loved. Providing comfort.

“It’s rotten work.” YN’s voice was quiet, the running water almost drowned the words out. But Bucky heard them. He turned slowly, giving her a hand towel to dry her hands. Her eyes were down, staring at the fabric between her fingers. Taking her time, hoping he would move past her sentence.

“Not to me,” Bucky responded. His fingertip brushed against her cheekbone, wisps of her hair passing through his fingers. He tucked them gently behind her ear before tilting her chin up. Persuading her watery eyes to meet his. He smiled, the wrinkles around his eyes portraying the overflowing kindness he couldn’t vocalize. “Not if it’s you.”

YN chuckled, a weak smile on her lips. Shaking her head, she carefully shuffled forward. Wrapping her arms around his waist, pressing her face into his chest. Bucky’s response was instant. Instinctively holding her delicately to his body. Molded against the other. He inhaled deeply, the smell of her shampoo overwhelming his senses. YN pressed closer, the swell of his chest was achingly comforting. His t- shirt soft against her cheek.

“What do you say, I steal a wheelchair and we go up to Tony’s floor. We can bribe his chef to make some of those pancakes with the…” Bucky’s nose scrunched, brows furrowing. His fingertips that had been tracing shapes on her back stilled as he wracked his brain. Mouth twisting with frustration when he came up blank. “What’s the… those color things, again?”

“Sprinkles?” She suggested, pressing her chin to his chest. He glanced down, their noses almost pressed together. Bucky grinned, leaning forward to smack a kiss to her nose.

“Those. How bout we get some of those and we can meet Sam for breakfast?” He asked, squeezing her hips lightly. She nodded, successfully distracted from her thoughts that had been rampant in her head.

“Can he eat those yet? Isn’t he on, like, a hospital diet or something?” YN inquired, wrapping her arm around his waist.

Bucky hummed, helping her hobble out of the bathroom. He had tried carrying her places but she vehemently disagreed. Claiming she would never get better if she didn’t exercise. Eventually, as always, she would get tired and most of her weight would be on him anyways. He didn’t mind it.

“That sounds like a Sam problem.”

“You’re ridiculous, James Barnes.” He grinned at her laughter. His fingertips digging into her side teasingly.

“It’s all for you, sugar. All for you.”

[popculturebuffet]

Evil Deadtrospective: Army of Darkness: Hail to the King Baby! (Commissioned by WeirdKev27)

Hello all you happy screwheads! And welcome back to my look at the films of the Evil Dead. We’ve come to the end of Sam Rami’s original trilogy as Ash goes back in time to fight mini me’s, bagpiping skeletons and his own ego, it’s Army of Darkness!

Army of Darkness was the only film of the original rami trilogy I hadn’t seen before this retrospective. I OWN the film, on DVD and Blu Ray, I just never got around to actually watching it due to my habit of hoarding films like a dragon and then forgetting to you know, actually watch them. You may boo now. So part of the reason I took up Kev on his idea of this retrospective was to finally get around to it. What’d I think? Well obviously that’s a bit more complicated than “It was good” (Though it was) , so let’s dive into it under the cut shall we? 

Content Warning: This review contains mentions of sexual assault. Discretion is advised. 

Production of Darkness:

This fiilm had a MUCH smoother time coming into existance than last time.  With Evil Dead 2 being the huge hit it was, Rami’s name was once again great in hollywood, and interest in the sequel was high, with DIno De Laurentis more than willing to back a sequel. So Rami worked on the script while they tried to get the money up. He wanted to bring back Evli Dead II’s cowriter Scott Spigel but he was busy with another script. Luckily Rami had another Co-Writer in the wings: his brother Ivan, because Neoptisim. I joke of course, Ivan had worked with his brother on another script, and Sam liked it so the two set out to make a new film, workshopping the script before and during the production of Rami’s next film Darkman, a film I probably should talk about at some point given my love of both superheroes and Sam Rami. 

With the inital budget Dino could scrape up not being enough you’d expect, given the last two films, for this to delay the film for a while. But for once Sam was going in with something he didn’t have before: a big time box office draw.  Darkman turned out to be a massive hit, meaning Rami had the clout to do whatever he wanted next. And since Dino had a multi-picture deal with Unviersal it was easy enough to get them to distribute. 

This mean production went smoother than even the last film, and there were almost no problems making it, the only things changed being cuts due to budget constraints, not to mention a guaranteed wide big budget release. 

The problems only crept in AFTER it was done. For starters test audiences HATED the original ending. And while sometimes this is stupid and dumb and leads to a film getting ruined, in this case the execs probably had the right idea, we’ll get to that. What WASN’T right was our heroes had to put up their salaries to do reshoots, redoing the opening and ending, complete with new sequence. Not only that but much like Crimewave our heroes were largely locked out of editing, with the film first getting an NC-17 for exactly one shot, yes REALLY, and then an R that no amount of edits could undo. I scratch my head at that last part as I watched the theatrical version for this review: the gore is almost entirely asbent this time around, and while theirs bodies flying around ocasionally, i’ts not nearly enough to really warrant an R rating. Then again i’m asking for Logic from the MPAA, so whose really insane. The studio also gave Bruce Cambell exactly a day to approve the promotional posters or they woudln’t promote the films. 

Naturally with Studio Support like this and coming from a cult director making a weird period film following up two films that were horror classics but cult to the rest of the world the film.. well heres an artist’s rendering of how the box office went. 

So yeah the film didn’t do well, and this effectively ended the franchise till the comics, which only came about because Universal likes money. That said the film was still a critical hit and like the last two became a cult smashed, helped by being both more easily available and being more tv friendly. As a result while the franchise was never a box office darling.. it’s still beloved to this day to the point we got the remake we’ll be talking about next time and the new film coming next year, as well as two diffrent franchises of comics, and all sorts of merch including the FUNKO Ash proudly sitting on my shelf right above me as I type this. This film may of not been the hit Rami likely hoped for but it gave the trilogy closure and fans a lot of lines to quote. So let’s talk about it shall we?

The Film of Darkness:

We open with Ash a slave in the year 1300. Ash breifly recaps the last film, while also bringing up his job at S-Mart, the first of many iconic things about ash this film brought about. S-Mart is basically K-Mart back when it actually existed.  Ash loved his job there, to the point Bruce Cambell has claimed that while ash has several advanced degrees, something shockingly backed up by this film, he prefers the store because he just feels at home there. Linda also worked there before the whole being dead thing. We get narration covering her possesion, him having to amuptate himself and him getting sent back in time. This recap’s a bit more truncated this time about as Rami had felt they’d spent MORE than enough time in the cabin already, and wanted to get into something diffrent. 

And something different the first ten minutes are.... their boring. You’d THINK Ash ending up in the past, getting enslaved by king arthur, being called the chosen one by an old man, and getting dragged to a death pit would be fun but it’s just really tedious and not all that engaging. It does set up important info: the other guys being drug in are arthur’s enemies, the two being at war despite having a common enemies: the deadites who are ravaging the land and gentry. We also have a woman who we’ll come to know as Shiela spit in ash’s face because he’s supposdely with these guys. But it’s just ehhhh. Nothing really good happens and it just feels like a slog to get to the good stuff.

Thankfully the good stuff arrives when Ash is thrown in the death pit for sport.. because that’s what makes us SURELY like and care about arthur later: him throwing our hero to his death without any real evidence he was actually WITH the other guys. Sure enough their’s a deadite in the pit and Arthur has the spikes turned on because god hates Ash. 

Ash however shows his final character shift here: Ash is no longer the nice kid we met at the start of this trilogy, but a terminally moronoic meathead who is far more clever than he appears because he’d have to be, but is awesome at one liners, shooting things and chainsawing things as demonstrated when the wise old man from earlier throws him his chainsaw, allowing him to turn the tide, and then escape with his belt buckle. He then proceeds to use his gun and chainsaw to threaten everyone, getting the prisoner king guy released, which he’s greatful for and surely will come in handy later and threatening everyone while being as awesome and bruce cambelly at possible. ANd given they you know, enslaved him and threw him in a death pit I have no sympathy for these people. If I gloss over great jokes or lines just know it’s not because their not great it’s because this review would get tedious if it was just a string of army of darkness quotes and trust me it EASILY could’ve this film is THE most quotable film i’ve ever seen, with almost every iconic line you’ve heard from the franchise coming from here with only “Swallow your soul” and “Groovy” coming from the last one. 

The townsfolk end up praising our hero though when he shoots a flying deadite down, leading to him being praised, and next we see him he has a fresh shirt, as his original was about as torn as you’d expect given the last two days and being fed grapes, as he deserves. Shelia TRIES to apologize, but he’s a dick about it, and the elder tries to get him to go on a quest for the necronomicon.. to which he tells him that he just wants to go home without any quest despite you know people being in immediate danger. 

YOu might be sensing a pattern here. Ash is WAY more of a selfish dick in this film and it just dosen’t feel remotely in character. Ash has had changes in characterization, but as i’ve pointed out in the last two reviews it’s felt like a natural progresss. He started as a somewhat meek but still charming and charasmatic college kid, got turned into a slapstick victim slowly going insane from the sheer stress of the situation, and once calm and reunited with the others became an experinced badass, now knowing his opponent and ready to face them head on with a chainsaw and boomstick. This carries to this film: He’s slightly dimmer sure but that can be chalked up to him trying to take the easy way out, just wanting this nightmare of the past three days to END ALREADY.  As such he’s not thinking clearly like he was at the end of the last film. His recknlessness makes sense. But him wanting to basically abandon these people go go screw, assholes or not really dosen’t. Both of the previous films, despite how bad things were, had him trying to end this shit: end the evil dead because he knew it wouldn’t stop if he didn’t and would just harm more people. Sure it benefitted him too, but he at least saw that they weren’t going to stop. Here he’s willing to abandon a bunch of people to death because he’s fed up and that just.. isn’t ash. It dose’nt ruin the film mind, the film calls him out on it and he makes the right decision eventually, but it still dosen’t remotely work for me. 

What does is Ash getting ready for said quest after another deadite encounter, deciding the quid pro quo works for him. We get an awesome forging scene where he makes himself a metal hand, and talks to shielia again who made him subsittute shirt. He responds by being a dick to her. 

She slaps him, he goes after her and they have sex. This is about as deep as their relationship gets. 

So the next morning Ash rides off into the night with a full party.. who promptly stop once he gets near the area where the Necrnomicon is. Ash is told by the Old Man he has to say the magic words, Klatu Berada Nicto (from the day the earth stood still of course) to properly settle the book. I’d chide the film for coming up with new rules but frankly changing the rules or pulling new ones out of your ass is a horror movie tradition. The rules for who Chucky can transfer into have gone from “First person he meets” to “whoever as long as he has the heart of dambala” to “Fuck it”,  Freddy Kruger went from “the kids of the parents who burned him” to “Whoevers tangentially related to this girl with psychic powers who was friends with the last of those kids “ to “Fuck it” and Friday the 13th started it’s entire franchise off by saying “Fuck it jason’s alive after all and always has been.” So Evil Dead adding three words is basically nothing in the grand tradition of horror pulling new rules out of it’s ass. 

The first stop on his quest.. is an abandoned cabin.

I mean it’s DIFFRENT in structure from the one but it feels weirdly out of place and only there to use what I STRONGLY belivie was a bit thought out for Evil Dead II but not used because of budget: Ash getting swarmed by tiny versions of himself Gulliver’s travels style. Okay now THAT’S the kind of asspull i’m used to from horror sequels. But yeah this.. this is happening now. Which really was what my brain muttered for most of the movie from this point because Rami goes even WEIRDER than last time. And keep in mind last time had a laughing house, a tree demon, ash having a tom and jerry chase with his hand, a phalic necked murder grandma and ended with Ash chainsawing a giant flesh monster in the eye while a tree tore the house apart. So the fact Rami can TOP that in terms of 

Is a true achievement. This sequence is hilarious by the way, insane and weird even for this franchise but funny because Bruce Cambell fighting an army of tinier bruce cambell’s is impossible to ruin. You just can’t. 

So Ash swallows one and grows a horrifying styigan eye on his shoulder in what feels like the only moment of the film as creepy as the last two. It’s the only part that really FEELS like a horror film, if only for a moment. Though i’d like to stress.. i don’t MIND that this film shifted genres. While it threw me off, as I was still expecting something remotely serious like last time versus the slapstick madness that this film unleashed, once the shock wore off I was laughing my ass off the entire time. This film is comic gold and creative as hell. Again most adventure films wouldn’t suddenly have the protagonist fight mini mes and then eat one which slowly splits off into a hammy evil clone of him. Few would have the courage to go this batshit insane on screen with this level of budget but few men are Sam Rami and god bless him for it. This is a film no one else coudl’ve made, no one else could’ve produced and is fully him, his brother and cambell’s baby. It’s just a joy to watch a film that was clearly someone’s idea, taking everything that inspired them as a kid throwing it into a good pile and serving it to the masses. It’s why I love creators like Grant Morrison or Al Ewing and why i’ve grown to truly love and respect Sam Rami. I always liked the guy but these flims both show his evolution as a creator and his sheer talent and ingnuity. God bless him. 

So I could end the review there but I was paid for a full movie so let’s get back to the hero versus their evil clone

Eh close enough. Evil Ash is a sight to behold, prancing around talking about his good self being “little goody too shoes”. He’s also a tesitament to Cambell’s range as he has a different, far more demented voice, different body posture.. he’s different in everything except looks. A slapstick moron fight ensues, ending with our hero shooting his doppleganger and giving out easily one of his most iconic lines if not THE most iconic line of the film “Good, Bad, I”m the guy with the Gun. “ 

He then buries his evil counterpart instead of you know dismembering him and heads for the book. He instead finds THREE books. Ash’s reaction is understandable. 

Seriously I don’t get why the old man didn’t warn him about this or know about this. He’s a wise old codger, their supposed to know these things and offer heroes swords and fruit by the foot. That’s what old men in fantasy settings do.  That and line after line of cocaine.

So ash grabs one book and gets sucked inside and goes all long in the face. 

Before finding the right book.. and forgetting the magic words, the best part of it being when he tries just mumbling his way past it. Just like one liners there are TOO many good jokes to point out every last one. 

So lightning starts and the dead rises.. and Ash speeds back on his horse. Somehow it’s taken me THIS long to mention Ash’s horse. The sight of Bruce Cambell on a horse will never not entertain me. God bless this man and his horse, who i’ve named Scotty II: The Better One, because the film didn’t bother to name him and that sounds like something ash would say in this movie. 

So Ash Rides in on Scotty II: The Better One, and.. wants to be sent back despite everyone being in mortal peril thanks to his fuck up as the armies of the dead are coming for the book.. and as we see in the cutaway they have a new leader as Evil Ash arises in a kick ass new demon empror look. Point is Ash dosen’t give a shit and is prepared to peace out. I think an old friend has some words for Ash> Go ahead tell em. 

Thanks bud, good luck convincing that teenager to do murders. Ash has a change of heart when a winged demon grabs shelia though. The knights of arthur sure are lucky ash’s brain is hot wired to his penis. So with that Ash rallies them, saying that even with the 60 men that haven’t evacuated, they can hold off the dead, protect the book and save the day. Arthur is skeptical because his only real personality traits are “king stuff” and “king sized douche”, but ash has an actual plan  and not just “kill evil me, free shiela, ?????, sex, go home” drawn on a napkin in the back of his delta 88 like you’d expect. 

No his plan is twofold: ask their enemies for help, and since Ash set them free earlier that’s actually fesable and use his advanced knowledge to make gunpowerder and other future stuff, as well as a secret weapon we’ll get to shortly. And yes Ash just happened to have a bunch of science books in his car, but given Anne Boonchuy happened to have abotu 5 full costume changes, several pairs of clothes, a bath bomb, and god knows what else tucked in her back pack, this again feels like small potatoes. 

Meanwhile.. we get... easily the worst creative decision in the movie. Turns out Evil Ash specifically had Shielia kidnapped. Now that’s not the terrible creative decision, this is a tounge in cheek adventure film and all.. no the terrible creative decision.. is it’s HEAVILY implied he rapes her, and next we see her she’s a deadite. Evil Ash... RAPED SHEILA INTO BECOMING A DEADITE. Now unfortuantley charles tells me if I call on him twice in one review again he’ll stab me a bunch and i’ve met my weekly stabbing quota so that’s no good.  Luckily, I found a sub. 

God bless you Eel. Hopefully you’ll get a movie that actually deserves you soon.  To the point: This was unecessary, you did not need to give the scene sexual assault conotatoins let alone imply rape, what in the actual hell sam. It clashes with the tone, it’s uncessary and i’ts done for no reason, not even the endlessly questionable one of furthering a male character’s story. it’s just gross.

So after.. that the battle for the future of Camelot or whatever begins. And we get the best fucking thing in this entire film: SKELTON BAG PIPERS

This.. this is apparently a meme and has every right to be. I laughed so fucking hard at the sight of the skeletons bagpiping and fluting I swear I lost a kidney. God bless everything about this.

So the fight ensues against an army of skeletons because they coudln’t do dismemberings this time I guess, or they were cheaper. 

It’s also the highlight of the film as our heroes use explosive arrows, the skeletons are hilarious, and naturally voiced by Ted Rami, and the whole fight is cheesy goodness. But it hits it’s peak when, just as things seem their bleakest, ash breaks out the BATTLE WAGON

Everything about this is amazing, from the fact Ash somehow pulled this off to just the number of skeletons it done grinds up. Everything about this is awesome and it’s a driving symbol of why this film is so awesome. 

So Evil Ash uses Shiela to get ash to stop the car which then goes up in a fireball. 

She then goes deadite and we get another iconic line I HAVE to quote

“You Found me beautiful once!”

“Lady, you got real ugly!”

The tide then turns though as ash beats Demon Sheila and the other king guy arrives , raising hell against the army of darkness. This leads to our final showdown as ash faces evil ash in a swordfight. Honestly this last half hour is hard to recap. Not because it’s bad, in fact just the opposite: it kicks SO MUCH ass in one fell swoop it’s hard to riff or analyze. There isn’t any deep character stuff or anything left nor anything funnier than what’s happening half the time. It’s just pure deep fried cool. 

Evil Ash eventually gets the upper hand and the book, but looses it to regular ash who gets it to the wiseman> he decapitates his evil self, wins the daay and the old man uses the magic to make the bad people go away and Shiela turn back to normal> The two kings man hug and with that a new kingdom is forged.  It’s here we get to the two endings, as both branch off from about here each having a diffrent lead in. While I watched the thetrical cut I do feel it necessary to cover both as the original IS Rami and Campbell’s prefered version and loved by some fans. 

In the original ash is advised to take only 6 drops which will put him in a deep sleep and take him back to his time. This being ash he goofs it up and... well even in this film’s alternate less seen ending, it’s still quotable as hell. 

Yeah so this ending is decent.. but I prefer the focus group one. While this is Rami’s vision and all and DOES fit ash’s character.. it also feels needlessly cruel. While ash WAS kind of a dick in the first two thirds of the movie, he fully redeemed himself by the end risking life, mutilating his beloved Delta 88 into that beautiful monstrosity above, and doing everything he could to protect a kingdom that previously had enslaved him. He didn’t deserve this. And look sometimes a horror hero dosen’t get what they deserved. Nancy nearly died, and they didn’t bore us with the miraculous details of her mistake then actually died, and Andy got sent into foster care, blamed for more murders, sent to miltiary school, balked for more murders and locked in an institution.. and probably blamed for more murders. What i’m saying is sometimes you live, sometimes you die and sometimes a doll frames you for murder most of your young life. Sometimes a horror film HAS to end with the bad guy winning to be truly effective. 

But sometimes it dosen’t work,  like when Get Out THANKFULLY changed the ending to something far less depressingly realistic, and it dosen’t work here.  In large part because unlike the last two films which also ended on a down note.. this isn’t a horror film. It’s a goofy adventure movie. As such Ash getting a very undeserved unhappy ending just dosen’t work at all. Sure Evil Dead 4000 would’ve been sweet, but it wasn’t worth saddling the rest of the film with an unfitting, throughly depressing ending that just isn’t funny enough to counter ballance it. It’s especially draining if you’ve watched the other two films: Ash has been through so damn much over three films, watched everyone he loves and scotty die, been mentally and physically tourtured by the evil dead, had to chop off his hand, been locked in a murder cellar, been turned into a deadite twice, nearly got a hatchet to the face, watched everyone around him die AGAIN and then got sent back in time for doing the right thing, enslaved, got attacked by mini me’s , got attacked by a clone, accidently raised the dead again, had his girlfriend kidnapped and turne dinto a deadite and had to say goodbye to said girlfriend and Scotty II: The Better One. At this point, Ash earned a fucking break and audiences wanted that. 

So we got the alternate ending instead and again it just fits the cheesy, fun tone of the film better, and wraps up the trilogy better too: Ash has returned to the present where he has a habit of talking about his adventures like any one would belivei him. He does get one woman’s intrest... when a deadite breaks in and tries to attack said woman. So grabbing a gun from housewares, he fucking SLIDES OVER ON A BLUE LIGHT SPECIAL CART, SHOOTS THE VCR SHE WAS USING AS A WEAPON THEN SHOOTS THE EVIL BITCH AS HE GOES BEFORE FINISHING HER. He ends the films not trapped in a future for another sequel but finally happy> He’s got a new girl, a job he loves, a crowd that now adores and belvieis his weird stories. As our hero puts it in his final words for the trilogy

“In my own way I am king... HAIL TO THE KING BABY”

Final Thoughts of Darkness:

This film is great. I’ve gone deep into why. it’s not perfectt:L the assault, the boring first stretch, ash being a real ashhole. But the film is just so unabaishidly zany, the jokes and one liners so clever , and the tone just so over the top it’s impossible not to love. And this is coming from someone whose not a  bit fan of “guy gets sent back to arthurian times’ stories, so I had a hurdle to overcome but I just enjoyed this film. It’s also Bruce Campbell at his best, spewing catchphrases, mugging like all. hell and clearly having the time of his life.  Army of Darkness may not be AS good as the previous film, but it’s more a matter of prefrence honestly and I could see someone just as easily making this thier faviorite and owuldn’t blame them. This film is still awesome. 

Sadly as I said before the awesome didn’t translate into sales and while the franchise kept going it woudln’t return to theaters till someone decided to reboot the dead. While we MIGHT return to ash at some point next year, depends on what Kev wants to do, we still have one last trip to the cabin to deal with, one last film before next year’s big second reboot attempt. It’s time for the Evil Dead to rise once again with the remake. See you next time and thanks for readin. 

[featherquillpen]

Reclist: Eldritch/Inhuman Castiel

My interest in Supernatural, such as it is, begins and ends with Castiel, a gay angel who is portrayed by known human being Misha Collins, but is shown by visual storytelling (shattering glass, fallen trees, dramatic lightning flashes) and in dialogue ("I am a multidimensional wavelength of celestial intent", "my true body is the size of the Chrysler Building") to be an incorporeal nightmare monster who just so happens to have possessed a suburban dad. I am a monsterfucker who absolutely wanted to read about a terrifying eldritch gay angel, but I discovered to my great disappointment that most SPN fanwork portrays him as a quirky human man lightly dusted with halo spice.

However, I have managed to find some fanwork that gave me the many-eyed, mind-breaking, dorky gay possession spirit that I crave, and I thought I would share my finds with all my fellow alienfuckers. Also, for those alienfuckers who are not in this fandom (excellent life choice, by the way) I have marked with an asterisk (*) those fanworks that I think work well without any knowledge of SPN.

Fanart

Contra's trueform!Cas art

Contra's take on Cas's trueform is inspired and incredibly cute. I love how he draws Cas as his usual nearly expressionless human vessel, but then has a very expressive trueform expanding like a giant cloud of wings and eyes around him.

Carolina's trueform!Cas art

Carolina's take on Cas's trueform is very abstract and intriguing. In the example I linked, the blue and tan and white of Jimmy Novak's iconic outfit spill out in a chaos of triangles and wings and animal heads from Jimmy's body as Cas possesses him, as well as the red burn of Cas's handprint on Dean.

Friendly Pigeon's Giant Castiel series*

Friendly Pigeon heard Castiel say that his true form was the size of the Chrysler Building and decided to take that to its logical fanart conclusion. This art beautifully communicates the awe-inspiring scale of a cosmic being like Cas.

angel-derangement's trueform!Cas art*

This fanartist draws Cas so different every time, and so WEIRD that I am honestly inspired. These trueforms are inspired by everything from the lighting aisle at a hardware store to Lisa Frank. Feast your eyes.

Long Fanfic (>50k)

Cruel Angels* by orphan (107k)

The ultimate in eldritch!Cas. This author delivered to me everything I wanted: Cas walking the earth in a giant, freaky, many-headed form that sends everybody but Dean screaming for the hills. The sheer power, scale, and alienness of Castiel in this fic is unparalleled, and yet he always tries so hard to do the right thing, in his endearing way.

Cinderwings* by bendingsignpost (182k)

The Cas in this Cinderella-ish AU is technically not as alien as in most of the fics on this list, in that he is a corporeal humanoid being who just happens to have ginormous wings, but the fic does a great job of portraying Cas and angels in general as very culturally distinct from humans - a lot of the drama of this fic comes from Cas operating from totally different first principles than humans do.

So Says the Sword* by komodobits (85k)

An AU(-ish? it's complicated) where Dean says yes to being Michael's vessel, and Castiel is assigned to guard him. Castiel and Dean are basically locked in a holodeck together, under terrible circumstances, and bond with each other while they wait for the apocalypse. The Castiel POV is beautiful, his true form scene is awe-inspiring, and the fic is so poetically written in general.

Medium Fanfic (10 - 50k)

Broadway Musical* by Griftings

An exceedingly silly AU that includes references to Jewish angel lore, angels having three animal heads as per the Book of Revelation, and Cas having previously possessed a dinosaur as a vessel. I love that Cas has an internal conversation going with Jimmy throughout the fic, a stream of petty arguments and useful tips for playing human, which emphasizes how Cas is not his vessel.

closer (isn't close enough) by fleeceframe

A finale fix-it in which Cas is now an archangel. While Cas is roughly humanoid in this fic, you still get the immensity and power of his true nature. In this fic, he heals trauma damage directly from Dean and Sam's brains, and designs a heaven for bees, which is just... such wholesome weird angel content.

Autrement, Danger - or, The Account of an Exceedingly Long Day by awed_frog (31k)

The description of Cas's true form in this story was so poetic and beautiful I actually cried. This fic captures the concept of the sublime: the feeling you get in prayer or in contemplation of nature that you are very small and the universe is vast and frightening and breathtaking.

Short Fanfic (<10k)

Fata morgana. by orange_crushed (7k)

Castiel in hell, searching for Dean, from demon!Bela's point of view. I love how Bela's demon senses can see Cas's Grace fading and warping in hell. Cas is also just so hopelessly sweet amidst the bleakness of this story.

diamond star halo by jad (5k)

Castiel possessing Dean, from Sam POV. I love fic where Cas possesses other vessels than Jimmy, because it emphasizes that Cas is not his vessel - he is an incorporeal entity who needs help from humans to interact in the human world. Castiel!Dean in this story is just so weird and I love it.

Everyone is Trying to Get to the Bar by Balder12 (8k)

A very weird eldritch Cas made of blade-feathers and spinning wheels and tentacles, AND it's hurt/comfort! I'm such a sucker for fic where a monstrous/alien character is hurt and receives comfort, because monsters deserve love and care, too.

[tinyboxxtink]

"Reunion" A Sam Gardener/Paige Hardaway "Fix It" One Shot *Atypical*

Alright, I should have been working on my series but ya'll I finished ATypical last night and I was FUMING. Actually I still am fuming. So fuming I had to write a "fix it" fic for the ending of the Sam and Page story. It will NOT end at the Olive Garden. I refuse to believe that.

So I spent all day writing this. I don't care if anyone likes or agrees with it, this was for me. In my heart this is how they ended up. Okay? Okay.

------------

“My my my, Sammy you are lookin’ FLY!” Zahid stepped back and admired his work. Sam had reluctantly let him pick out his outfit for tonight. He felt very uncomfortable in the soft cotton t-shirt NOT the regular cotton t-shirt, distressed jeans NOT regular and non-holy, and an unbuttoned dark blue flannel, NOT a normal polo. But he wanted to look a certain way for tonight, something he thought she’d like. He needed tonight to go perfectly, and not because his atypical brain needed it to. His heart needed it to.

“Thank you Zahid, I’m very uncomfortable. That’s how I know I look good to other people,” Sam nodded.

“So true,” Zahid nodded. “Now are you sure you don’t want me to come with you tonight? Be your wing man?”

“No,” He shook his head as he studied himself in the full length mirror. “I need to do do this on my own, no birds necessary,”

“That’s my Sammy Sam,” Zahid beamed. “Always so literal,”

“Well, I’ll see you after the party ends. Probably before,”

“Unless things go well..” Zahid wiggled his eyebrows.

“If they go according to plan I will still come back home, you know this is the one of the only three places I can spend the night. The other two being my childhood home and Antarctica,”

“Yes I do know that,” Zahid nodded. “I am so proud of you for spending two months in that popsicle freezer, by the way,”

“I didn’t see one popsicle while I was in Antarctica, but I appreciate your praise Zahid,”

“Anytime, Sam. Permission to hug?”

“Permission granted. I’d normally say no in fear of wrinkling my clothes, but I’m pretty sure they’re already as wrinkled as they can be,” Sam raised his arms, gesturing to the crinkled flannel and jeans.

“Alright, well go and get her man!” Zahid wrapped Sam in a huge, tight hug.

“I hope so,” Sam nodded before walking out the door and down to his car that he could legally drive now.

-----------

When he arrived at the school, he parked and went inside, He glanced down at the invitation he needed to enter the party:

“REUNITE WITH YOUR FELLOW OWLS! 5 YEAR REUNION FOR THE CLASS OF 2019!”

He couldn’t believe it had been five years since he had walked down these halls. It seemed to go by so fast; from going to Antarctica to graduating from Denton to getting a job at the aquarium as a vendor selling his drawings of Stumpy and the other marine life. He would even take long term commissions or draw guests right there on the spot. He didn’t like doing those so much though.

He approached the table apprehensively, hoping he wouldn’t be met with any of his tormentors from high school. But to his absolute relief and delight, there to greet him was the very person he had come to see. Her blonde hair was missing it’s usual blue streak, but other than that she looked exactly like he had remembered her: Beautiful.

“Sam!!” Her eyes lit up when she saw him walking up. She ran around the table and met him before he even reached it. She almost went for a huge hug, but she wasn’t sure if they were still in that stage where he trusted her enough to do so without permission.

But to her absolute shock, Sam opened his arms and welcomed her embrace unprompted. Tears lined her eyes as she hugged him as tightly as she could.

"Hello Paige," He simply stated as she had her arms around him. Suddenly she was catching something she’d also never thought would happen

“Sam, are you wearing cologne?” She asked him softly in his ear, not wanting to let him go just yet.

“Yes,” He nodded as he pulled back just a little to face her, but still his arms around her. He usually hated soft touch or holding of any kind, but with Paige everything was different.

“But you hate foreign smells, especially on your body,” Paige blinked in disbelief while also mentally noting that Sam was not letting her out of his grip.

“Yes, I do,” He nodded again. “But I read that this cologne produces pheromones for the female human,”

“Sam!” Paige blushed, biting her lip and looking at the floor. “Why would you need that?”

“For the ladies obviously, buddy,” Sam used his line for lying, dropping his arms around her. He couldn’t focus on more than one social skill at a time. “You look very nice tonight by the way, Paige,” He added the compliment to complete the lie.

“Oh,” Paige’s voice fell a little soft and disappointed, but Sam was unable to detect it.

“Are you done with your duties? I’d have some things I’d like to discuss with you,” Sam gestured to the table where two other women were taking “tickets’”.

“Absolutely!” Paige replied over excitedly. “I’ll just tell them I’m taking my break,”

“I don’t want to break anything, Paige. I’d just like to talk,” Sam said in a distressed tone. He didn’t want Paige to think he was going to attack her.

“Oh no no no Sam,” She laughed nervously. She missed how literal Sam was. “I meant a rest from work,”

“Oh, right,” Sam shook his head nervously, picking at his fingers. He should have known that, he knew what a break was. Paige just made his thoughts foggy.

“Shall we?” Paige pointed down the hall. Sam nodded and followed her into an empty classroom where they could talk uninterrupted. She pulled up a chair at a desk while Sam did the same, then she realized where they were.

“Oh my goodness,” She whispered.

“What? Did I do something wrong?”

“No!” She waved her hands dismissively. “Not at all Sam. It’s just--” She paused and looked around. “Do you know where we are?”

Same studied the room for a moment, when his eyes caught a glimpse of the Eiffel Tower.

“We’re in the French Classroom, where I brought you your penguin necklace so you'd be my girlfriend again, and then you kissed me for the first time,” He informed her matter of factly, but with a small smile, a thing he never did for anyone else.

“Yes,” She nodded with a small smile while her cheeks turned red.

“That was a very good day,” Sam nodded while recalling the memory. He would never admit it to anyone, but that was his first kiss.

“Yes, yes it was,” Paige nodded as well.

“That relates to what I’d like to discuss with you, Paige,”

“Oh?”

“Yes,” He nodded while looking at the floor. He was extremely nervous to do this, but he wanted to do it now before he lost his nerve.

“Well, I guess first of all I should ask-- do you have a boyfriend right now?”

“Sam!” She blushed even more; she forgot how blunt and honest Sam was, straight to the point.

“That’s not yes or no,” He stared at her.

“It’s...complicated,” She played with her hair nervously.

“How is it complicated? You either have a boyfriend or you don’t,” Sam was confused.

“Well the short answer is no, I don’t,”

“Okay then,” He started to continue his line of questioning, but Paige put her hands up.

“Wait wait,” She stopped him, trying not to laugh at his eagerness. “Don’t you want to know the long answer?”

“Not really, but I have a feeling you’re going to tell me,” Sam shrugged.

“Yes I am,” She agreed as she took a deep breath to explain her story. Sam was not looking forward to a long story, but he loved hearing Paige talk. Also he could block her out at any time if he got bored with her words.

“Well, while I was working in Georgia my managers realized what a great foreman I would make,”

“How can you be four men?” Sam asked quizzically.

“No no,” She giggled. “A FORE-MAN, Sam. It basically means I tell people what to do at the building sites,”

“Oh,” Sam shook his head in understanding. “Well you are good at bossing people around,”

“Thank you,” She half laughed. “So, I moved up and up and now I’m a manager myself,”

“I thought you hated being a manager," Sam's eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "That's why you used your magic birds to quit Spud E"s,"

"I did hate it there," She chuckled as she remembered that day. "But just because it was at Spud E's. You can hate or love something depending on your happiness in doing it,"

"Oh," Sam just nodded, even though he didn't understand it.

"Anyway, so while I was working my way up the ladder, I met this guy Daniel," Paige's voice lowered as she said his name, she saw Sam's face turn to distress.

"Oh," Sam looked at the floor. "So Daniel is your complicated boyfriend,"

"No no no!" She wanted to take Sam's eyes to make him look up at her but she didn't want to make him more upset.

"No, we did date for a while. And then last week, after I got the invitation for this thing, Daniel took me to dinner," Paige paused, not wanting to push him further emotionally by saying the next thing.

"And he asked me to marry him," She said softly. To her surprise Sam's head popped back up with an even more distressed face.

"So you don't have a boyfriend you have a husband,"

"No!," She once again started going for his hands instinctively to comfort someone, but she knew it was different with Sam. Everything was different with Sam.

"Sam, will you let me get through the whole story before you ask questions, please?" She knew she had to flat out ask him to follow social cues.

"Yes," He nodded.

"Okay," she put her hands in her lap to finish her story.

"When he asked me to marry him, I sat there and I thought about it. For a long time. And I thought back to that afternoon when I got the invitation to come here. I was so excited to come,"

"You do love it here," Sam nodded. Paige gave him a look. "What? You said no questions, That was an observation."

"Right," she nodded her head with a laugh. "Well, then I realized I was more excited about coming back here than I was about the prospect of marrying him,"

"Oh." Sam simply replied while looking at the floor once again. Paige wondered if he understood what she was trying to tell him. Finally after several seconds, he raised his head and looked her in the eyes.

"Paige, now may I ask you a question?"

"Yes Sam," she nodded.

"Good," he nodded looking back at the floor. He wanted to pick the right words, he knew he had only one chance at this. He was so lost in his head he didn't realize how long the awkward pause was lasting.

"Um Sam," Paige's voice knocked him out of his thoughts.

"Right," He nodded, rubbing his sweating hands together.

"Paige," He took a deep breath. "Did you say no to marrying Daniel because the archaic institution of marriage disgusts you, or did you say no because you didn't want to spend the rest of your life with him?"

Paige's smile grew bigger at the question. He did understand what she was saying.

"I didn't want to spend the rest of my life with him." She smiled.

"Good." He nodded, making Paige softly giggle. He didn't hide his thoughts, that's for sure.

"Paige may I ask another question?"

"Yes, Sam,"

"Good." He nodded. This was it, the big question. If he could survive 54 days in Antarctica, he could survive this.

"Paige, would you say yes to marrying someone if you wanted to spend the rest of your life with that person"

"Yes Sam," she nodded with tears in her eyes. "If the right person asked me, I would definitely say yes"

"Paige," he didn't form the statement as a question this time, the one time she was hoping for a question.

"Yes, Sam?" She asked with a very anxious tone, tears threatening to fall down either way this went.

Once again he looked at the ground, furiously picking at a loose stand in the flannel sleeve. She debated whether to say something this time, she could tell he was thinking very hard about something and she didn't want to throw him off. Finally, he looked up once again with the lightest hint of wet pupils.

"....I'm the right person" He said with a very matter of fact tone. He didn't ask, he spoke it as if it was the truest fact in the whole world. He was never absolutely sure of anything, but this one exception.

Paige couldn't hold it any longer, happy tears dripped her face. To her surprise Sam was holding his hands out for her to take. The one other time this happened their love story was ending. She had said that day that maybe someday, they would pick up where they left off. And that day was here.

She gently placed her hands in Sam's as closed his fingers so they intertwined with hers. She looked at him with the same look of love she had when they parted.

"I think you're the right person too," She answered him with a tear filled smile.

To her delight his face lit up with overwhelming happiness, something very rare for him. Even better, he pulled her up out of her seat with his hands still holding hers and kissed her.

It was very softly at first like she was accustomed to given his apprehension with displays of affection, but to her continual shock that evening she suddenly felt his lips press harder against hers, the hardest they'd ever been in fact.

The surprises continued when his mouth ever so slightly, and his tongue traced the very littlest bit of the inside of her lip.

She went as slow as she could, following his lead. She absolutely did not want to ruin this for either of them, and she knew what a huge and probably terrifying event this was for him.

Sam slipped his tongue into Paige's mouth little bit by bit, as slow as Edison's movements. But as he felt the roof of her mouth against his tongue, he began to panic at the thought of the germs they were trading right now. His instincts wanted to abruptly push her away from him, but he couldn't do that to Paige.

Instead he removed his tongue and his mouth away from her, quickly but as gently as his neurosis would allow. To his relief, Paige was smiling from the encounter.

"Wow, Sam that was--" She tried to find the words. That kiss they had just shared was even more intimate than any time they made love.

"That was amazing,"

"I practiced that from a video I saw on YouTube," He smiled proudly. "And Zahid,"

"Zahid?!" Paige almost laughed at his last statement. "You practiced kissing on Zahid?"

"What?! No?" Sam made a disgusted face. "I'm not Casey, or Magic and Sphen,"

"Who are Magic and Sphen?" Paige asked curiously.

"Gay penguins," Sam informed her.

"Of course," she shook her head with a soft laugh. She had missed his affection for penguins.

"Anyway Zahid just showed me how, with his girlfriend Honey," Sam continued.

"You know we don't have to talk about how you learned it, Sam," She laughed awkwardly. "I'm just curious, did you--- did you practice that for girls in general, or me?"

"You, of course," Sam replied in an obvious tone.

"I've never wanted any other girl's germs in my mouth, but for you I wanted to make an exception. I read that physical affection is important in a relationship, and if we're going to be in one for the rest of our lives I thought I should learn more,"

"Oh that's so sweet!" Paige grinned.

"Yes, I know." Sam nodded proudly once more. "If we both brush our teeth profusely and use the strong mouthwash we can try it again,"

"Oh, well that should be--" Paige started to respond but Sam was busy opening the backpack he brought everywhere.

He soon pulled out two toothbrushes still in the package along with unopened bottles of mouthwash and toothpaste.

"Oh you meant right now," Paige laughed in amusement.

"Of course right now, we're going to be together for a long time, we should start practicing now," He shook his head in an obvious manner.

"Sound logic," She agreed.

"Wait, I almost forgot something Paige," He went back into his backpack. He was so focused on getting through the proposal he forgot the best part.

"Oh?" She tried looking where he was rummaging.

"Yes," he finally pulled out a sparkling rock from the backpack and stood up.

"This is a rock from Stumpy's tank. I work there now. Not in her tank, but the aquarium." He explained.

"Oh thats--"

"Paige, can you wait to ask questions until I finish my story?" He mimicked her question to him like a parrot.

"I--" Paige started to correct him by saying she was making a comment not asking a question, but she thought better of it. "Yes Sam,"

"Good," he shook his head in approval.

"Like I was saying, this is a rock from Stumpy's tank. I made sure it was one none of the penguins would miss, but was also very shiny and pretty." He explained as he presented the rock. She just nodded, encouraging him to go on.

"When a male penguin wants to mate with a female penguin, he searches and searches for the perfect pebble to present the female. I didn't have time to find the "perfect' one, and its not a pebble its a rock--," Sam noticed Paige's start to make the face she'd make when he was over informing her.

"Anyway," He dismissed the rest of his penguins fact buzzing in his head. He was already on the ground when he pulled out the toothbrushes and the rock, but he knew there was a specific way you had to be on the ground to ask this question.

He moved one leg so he was kneeling on one knee. He presented the rock more towards Paige, who was crying once again. Sam had to remind himself that people cried when they were happy as well as being sad, especially females. So he didn't have to worry if she was sad.

"Would you accept this rock?" He asked nervously.

He didn't know why he was nervous she had already said she wanted to spend the rest of her life with him, but this gesture meant even more to him, given that penguins were his favorite thing. Next to Paige.

"Of course I will Sam," she nodded happily as she took the rock from him.

"Oh also," He pulled a small diamond ring from his pants pocket and held it out to her.

"My mom said its better to give a girl this so they can wear it, but diamonds aren't a rock," He laughed to himself like it was the craziest thing in the world to give a girl a silly mineral opposed to a sturdy rock.

"Oh my god," Paige softly whispered as he slipped the ring on her finger.

He had told his mother he was going to ask her to marry him. He had planned this ahead of time, even though he had no idea what she would say. He loved her so much, and she truly loved him as much in return.

Finally done with everything he had planned to do, Sam got back up off his knees and gave Paige a small peck on the lips.

"I love you, Paige," He smiled.

He had practiced saying those words longer than he had practiced kissing. He started saying it in the mirror at first, then saying it to his mom, then his dad, then Casey.

He had always felt the emotion for them, he just never felt the need to announce it. But he knew it was important to hear for neurotypicals, especially Paige.

When he had said he was in love with her before the lock in, she had needed several minutes to process it. He hoped she wouldn't need minutes processing this, he wanted to practice kissing again.

To his relief she only took about 30 seconds to accept that she wasn't dreaming or hallucinating, he had actually said the words out loud to her for the very first time.

"I love you too, Sam," She kept crying from happiness as he gently kissed her once again.

And they did indeed spend the rest of their lives together, just like penguins.

[rhapsodyinprogress]

A story about me, The West Wing, why returning to the fandom means so much to me, and how you’re all just going to have to deal with endless TWW posts on my disaster blog for the foreseeable future. Behind the cut for (incredibly self-indulgent) length:

In the spring of 2000, I, in a fit of end-of-the-school-year ennui, flopped my 14-year old self into the couch in my living room and watched the season finale of some political drama my parents were into at the time.

“What is this?” I asked, only mildly interested because it was neither The X-Files nor Buffy and thus had no one fighting monsters which meant it was beneath my notice.

“The West Wing,” my mom said, “It’s really good, I think you’d like it,”

“It’s about American politics,” said I, in the manner of one discussing a very large slug crawling up the wall. I was both a teenager and Canadian and thought, therefore, that nothing could be less exciting.

“Yes, but it’s not just about that,” my Mom replies, “Just watch and see what you think,”

So did. I sat through “What Kind of Day has it Been” . Y’all know how that episode ends, though it was not just the ending that grabbed me. After, I quietly excused myself to go sit on the family computer for three hours looking up EVERY SINGLE THING I could find about this show. Who were these people? What did their job titles mean? Were the blond assistant and her cute boss in love? IT WAS SO IMPORTANT ALL OF A SUDDEN.

I watched the reruns over the summer. As many as they aired (it would be a while before I actually managed to watch season 1 in its entirety) and by the time ITSOTG aired I was ALL IN. During the chaos of the opening scenes we were predicting who besides the president was shot and my mom goes, “It’s going to be the young cute one. Not Rob Lowe...”

“Sam,” I interrupted.

“....the other one,”

“Josh,” I supplied immediately.

And my mother, who had watched me obsess over the X-Files since I was 10, who knew I was unstoppable once I decided to fixate on something, just kind of looked at me and went, “Oh boy,”

Cue one of the most intense love affairs I have ever had with a show. I printed this picture:

and taped it to my closet beside the boy bands and the magazine cut outs and the endless X-Files and Buffy posters I already had. I devoted one little corner of my wall to pictures of Josh and Donna, because you better believe I latched onto THAT right away. 

At that point in time, the two major television fandom hubs were Livejournal and the Television Without Pity boards. I lived on there, but posted rarely, because I was still only 15, 16, 17 and super shy and NONE of my IRL friends gave even one shit about this show (”So I’ve been watching The West Wing” I’d tell them in an off-hand way, immediately earning a series of “Did Meg just sprout an extra head?” looks) so I just sort of quietly loved it with all my heart and never talked about it with anyone. 

I wrote fanfiction (BAD, fanfiction - TWW staffers get trapped in a snow storm! Donna has a stalker! Donna and Josh get caught up in a sting operation for inexplicable reasons and have to pretend to be married!), I copied quotes into my notebooks. I think there was even a period where I attempted to draw storyboards for an animated series? Because I was prepping for animation school at that point and CLEARLY  West Wing: The Animated Series was what was missing from the world.

But here’s the thing. I was an anxious, awkward, weird teen. I was an excellent student, not because I was super smart, but because I wrapped all my self-worth into my grades and the opinions of my teachers and thus broke myself keeping my average up. I had no idea what I wanted to do with my life, I didn’t have and had never had a romantic partner (which seemed VERY important to me at the time) and though I was “popular” after a fashion, I mostly had a sea of acquaintances and few close friends. And as bizarre as it sounds, TWW was the thing I turned to when the anxiety spiral got too intense.

There was something comforting about these incredibly smart, ferociously competent people who made huge mistakes and had massive crisis of confidence and struggled and needed each other and all of this messy, complicated stuff. I loved those people. I loved how much they loved each other. The show made me a better writer, certainly, and enormously impacted my sense of humour, and honestly I think made me smarter somehow?  Like it influenced my ability to problem solve and think critically. Maybe I’m giving it too much credit  I don’t really know, but it certainly FELT like it.

And then the show ended, and I only had seasons 1 & 2 on DVD and couldn’t afford the rest and eventually they stopped airing reruns and I was 20 by then and clawing my way through art college and I just... let the show fade back into something I loved intensely once but wasn’t going to think of again.

And then 2020 happened. 

Oh BOY did 2020 ever happen.

By the time I started hearing about the “When we all vote” special, I had watched my way through all my nostalgic “comfort” shows: X-Files, Buffy, Firefly, Dr. Who, Grey’s Anatomy. But TWW was on US Netflix and I hadn’t figured out VPNs yet, lol.

I was, at that point, also in the midst of just a terrible mental health patch. Like, I had no idea how I was getting through the end of the year. I waited for the HBO special to show up on Crave. It was something to look forward to, and there were so many cast interviews coming out, it was a great distraction. When I finally got to watch, I literally sobbed all the way through, while simultaneously grinning from ear to ear. 

So I got me a VPN, and the re-watch began.

And suddenly, my ability to write (which is an ENORMOUS part of my, like, soul) came back. I finished two fanfics, started working on three more. I came back to tumblr and found SO MANY other people who had either done a 2020 re-watch just like me, or who chose that year to watch for the first time. Fans younger than me and older than me and in exactly the same boat as me and OH MAN. It has just helped my heart SO MUCH.

I’m getting so much joy out of being part of the community around this show that saved me a bunch of times as a teenager and then came around and did it again now that I’m in my 30s. 

So all this to say, if you’ve followed me recently, welcome! I’m so happy you’re here. And I’m SO HAPPY to be here.

[davidmann95]

So, "Subjekt-11" on Superman & Lois. I got a "Secret Identity" vibe from the trailer but dismissed it as just me seeing what I wanted to see, but now it seems Busiek really is an influence here.

Unbelievable.

Subjekt-17 is the all-time best take on the “are you SURE you’re doing the right thing, Superman?” category of villains in a walk; I’d assumed Secret Identity was a potential influence between the pastoral views and the family stuff, but this seems to confirm they’re following Busiek’s influence a lot further. An ambitious choice visually for TV as well as conceptually (he can’t just be a big tough ogre monster, he has to meaningfully emote), and an especially interesting one given Sam Lane’s presence in the series. I’ve been side-eying the notion of him potentially being Clark’s ‘guy in the chair’ here right along, but it’s easy to imagine him being tied into Subjekt’s background which would quickly mean the dynamic becoming FAR more complicated than “Superman’s totally alright working with the military-industrial complex so long as they point him at the right things to punch”. In any case they’re clearly looking at the right stuff and drawing the right influences, fingers crossed if we’re already getting a deep cut like this that your Solaris’s and Superdoomsdays will ultimately be waiting in the wings. Or, if nothing else, since he has a similar enough look and is so much better, that this forbids Doomsday from having a major role down the line.

[tabbyrp]

{Tropes in the Wild West, part 4} {Cont from [x]} @brooklynislandgirl​  @tarnishedhalo

Sleeping in the saddle required two things: skill and a steady horse. Sam considered himself reasonably adept at the fine art of riding and Red Wing, in his humble opinion, was one of the finest mares to grace the lands. Rattlesnakes didn’t spook her in the slightest. Streaks of lighting could split the heavens while thunder roared, and it would barely raise a flick of the mare’s tail. Not that her resilience in that regard had been tested lately. Along each step of this ride, started a goodly time before the first cock’s crow and continuing well past the sun’s zenith, the sky stayed clear and the ground bone dry, dust kicking up with each strike of the hoof. A current flicker of wind sent a near hand’s worth of grit straight up Sam’s nose, made him sneeze violently, and dragged him out from the otherwise pleasant doze. 

As the cowboy righted himself, drawing brim of hat higher to survey his surroundings, it became possible the horse had roused him on purpose. They had reached the stretch of trail which led a winding path to the Riley stead, beaten down over the years by equestrian hooves, plodding cattle, and the occasional trip by cart or wagon. Sam knew it well, even if lately he had not travelled it as often as he should, matters between him and Riley being ever complicated since the incident. Complicated, but not uncivil. As horse and rider trotted towards the house, Riley was there to greet them, the setting sun causing two waiting glasses of whiskey to ascend into sparking gold.

Later, Sam reclined in one of the family’s chairs, still plump with padding despite a long journey from the old country. His stomach was full from a hearty meal and weary bones found comfort in the stillness. Miss Beth and the other guest had both retired gracefully once the plates were cleared, disappearing with lanterns and laughter that spoke of a secret joke between them. Sam was none the wiser as to how Miss Tabitha had come to be part of the residence. An innocent inquiry over dinner had been deferred by Riley and enforced with that certain set to his posture. The one that taught men quickly to keep civil tongues in their heads about Miss Beth. Miss Tabitha appeared to raise his same guard dog hackles, though Sam was wise enough to resist laying bait to see what Riley would bite over. 

Their previous partnership had worked well for numerous reasons, one being Sam’s calm balance to Riley’s strong will. Caution tempering boldness, except for when those bold choices were exactly what the situation required, and Riley had always been willing to lead the charge. Fearless was how Sam had viewed his friend from the first moment they met, two young bucks about to learn how this wild land needed to be treated.  Now, Riley appeared weary as he poured them both a fresh glass of imported drink, one that Sam took a light sip from, lest he give in to temptation and fall asleep right then and there. 

Perhaps Riley took pity on him after the long journey, for he skipped the polite type of conversation that would involve asking how the cattle were faring and what the other cowboys had been doing whenever granted free time to carouse in the township. “Now that the ladies are gone to bed, are you going to explain why you’re really here? I know you miss my cooking and the wit of my conversation, but it’s a long journey for one meal.” 

There… there…  beneath the crooked smile, lingered a ghost of the Riley he remembered. It hurt Sam in the chest, for he was about to snuff it out before the flame had time to grow. “We’ve got trouble at the ranch.” He gave Riley the due respect by facing him square on, as was right when about to ask a man for aid. “The kind that only you and your sister know how to deal with.” 

They left the following morning. The two men had spent time in discussion about the safest mode of transportation. A small wagon was slower, though it had advantages should anything untoward happen out on the trail and they needed to defend the women. Riley was prepared to begin greasing the axles when Miss Beth emerged from the stables, her steed in a trot while she led another by the reins. Miss Tabby, being from the town and used to working on her feet instead of in a saddle, had clutched the pommel tight to keep from lurching off, though she carried a grit of determination that Sam could find respect for.

Both were dressed ready to travel, supplies and bags strapped securely in place, with Miss Beth making statements implying that the men should hurry up before they were left behind. Riley was none too pleased, that much was plain, but arguing would only waste more daylight. Even a horse whipped until bloody could not complete the journey between sunup and sundown. Making camp at night always carried a risk, although there were certain spots on the plains where lingering too long meant not rising come the dawn, and Sam had no intention of becoming grub food. Not today, at least. 

Compared to Red Wing, with her steadfast nature, Sam’s friends favoured more spirited equines. Riley needed only a light squeeze of thighs to send Sally into a rocking canter, man and horse in perfect unison as they scouted ahead for trouble. Miss Beth’s gelding was a restless creature, endlessly flicking his mane and resisting the reins, keen to break free from a plodding walk. On occasion she split off, never travelling far, mostly to examine a particular shrub or other object of interest. While the brother and sister pair were absent, Sam and Miss Tabby engaged in idle conversation. He learned she was not a whore, despite a residence at the saloon, and nothing more about what bound her to the other. For all Miss Tabitha demurred, she did so with a warmth that few white women ever offered Sam. 

Miss Tabitha’s charisma, however, took a dent when it came time to stop for the day. After horses were fed and a fire stoked to life, she insisted on breaking off pieces of her dried apple and depositing them outside the edge of the stone circle which Miss Beth and Riley had lain around their camp. Protests about attracting animals landed on deaf ears. Even after the ladies fell asleep, huddled together nose-to-nose beneath woollen blankets, Riley suggested Sam leave things be. So, he did, until a pair of ruby red eyes appeared in the shadows and four claws, scythe shaped like a barn cat if not so large and twice as thick, dug into the offering.

Sam looked away, deciding it best  if he saw no more if he were to cede to his friend’s request for restraint. Already a part of him screamed to wrench a log from the fire and strike the cursed creature away into the blackened landscape, if not send it screeching back to the hell from whence it came. “It’s gone now.” Riley’s low, steady voice drew him away from those malignant urges, and indeed, when he glanced towards the darkness, nothing stared back at him.

“Is she like you?” Sam’s question hung in the air. Riley sighed, reaching to toss another fistful of kindling into the fire before standing.

“You can take first watch.” The man clapped his shoulder, unapologetic for everything, and made his bed beside his sister. Stars spread across the night sky and a chill carried in the air, making it hardly scandalous for Riley to roll onto his side and tuck in behind Miss Beth, trapping in the warmth of her body. A few hours later, when it came time for Sam to stretch and rouse his companion, he equally made no mention of how Riley’s hand had drifted during slumber, one arm draped heavily over his sister and a lock of Miss Tabby’s hair twisted around his fingers.

The remainder of their journey passed quick enough, the foursome covering ground faster than Sam may otherwise have predicted. He estimated it barely an hour past midday when they crossed the invisible property border to the cattle ranch which he called home. Previous plans for expansion in both land and numbers were currently postponed. Waiting for better weather, the current herd needing all their attention in an endless hunt for blades of grass still holding moisture. A dam and her offspring had wandered away from the rest, nosing at the ground as the group rode past. Sam would have to round her up at some point. There were other matters to attend to, and Riley had expressed his desire to deal with those sooner rather than later. 

Further within the boundary, while far away from everything else, stood a corral. The small collection of wooden beams and panels nailed tight together, if certain slants to joints suggesting a hasty assembly. Remaining atop their horses, Sam led them closer. Slowly, cautiously, for even steady Red Wing gave a nicker of protest at the approach. One of the other ranch hands had draped a circle of rope at roughly a yard’s distance from the enclosure, locking it down with heavy iron nails.  That was where Sam halted them. Close enough for a clear assessment, far enough for safety. 

It took a moment or two for the dozen bovines within to notice their presence. Leathery heads lifted, empty eye sockets unseeing and gaunt nostrils sucking in the air. Their hair was gone, every last strand, leaving behind bleached skin that clung to gaunt bones. Unlike the docile mother cow they had passed, these creatures shivered and swayed, endlessly shifting their weight from one spindly leg to the other. The largest of them rocked forward, pressing up against the fence. It licked the air with a decaying tongue, got a proper taste of the observers, and gave a guttural howl. Two more went flank to flank with the leader, catching the scent. Sinewy necks extended towards Sam and the others as far as captivity allowed, falling short, yet still teeth flashed as jaws snapped wildly, bone clicking against bone. 

Miss Beth and Riley exchanged a look, the elder saying something under his breath. Sam possessed enough experience catching his friend’s muttered comments to piece together this one. It’s spreading. Riley  raised his voice to ask what methods they had tried to dispose of the creatures with, impassive while Sam listed off lead bullets, noxious poisons, and an attempt with an axe which left the wielder with a broken arm. “Take Tabitha up to the quarters.” Issuing what was more order than request, Riley dismounted with his old engraved pistol in hand, his sister following and starting to unstrap certain bags from her saddle. “And bring a few strong men back with you, along with some shovels.” Being dismissed caused a protest from Miss Tabby, and it took another terse, private conversation between her and Riley until the lady relented. 

Perhaps it was none of his business. Still, as he and Miss Tabby rode away from the corral, Sam took in the downcast twist to her expression, and said in a tone of someone making merely a passing mention, “He’s only like that with people he cares about.” She sighed, lips parting as if to reply, but whatever she may or not have intended to say was cut off by the sound of a single gunshot ringing through the air. A high-pitched scream, bestial and ferocious, came after, then another crack of the gun. Miss Tabitha covered her ears and Sam took her reins, leading the horse with the sounds of death following close behind.