#you can see where i started to give up LMAO

[lamentationsofalonelypotato]

@zepskies

Ooo Yay! I can't wait to see what you thought about this UNHINGED fic 😂

On one hand, perfect makeout music. On the other hand, Dean is SOOOO freakin' jealous, but it's so frustrating that pushing down his own feelings for her has resulted in him being such a dick to her, before and during this moment. 😫😫

Oh yes, definitely setting the mood for the reader and Ben in the back seat lol. We all know that Dean has probably pulled the same thing in the past 😆 Dean is VERY jealous and it's only pushing the reader away from him more, but he can't stop it. He's stuck in a vicious cycle that is turning into one of Dante's circles of hell when Ben showed up LOL.

*snorts* I love both of these analogies. 🤣

Thank you! I was like... what else has a roadtrip in it? 😂

Deaaaaaan you complete and utter idiot!! What's even worse is that she did feel that spark with him when they first met, until he opened his big dumb mouth lmao.

He really has pushed down his feelings, a few people have pointed out to me that Dean is acting like the playground bully who likes a girl but can't express it in a healthy way and that is one million percent what's happening here lol. The reader did like him when they first met, but again he just didn't express his feelings in a healthy way and now he has to sit and watch Ben and the reader make out in the back seat of his car 😂

Lol sounds like the Winchester Way to me. 🫠

Absolutely 👏🏻 The reader is basically the male version of Dean tbh. Except she shoved down her feelings and then went to sleep with someone who looked exactly like Dean 🤣 Because that was also healthy right? lol

My heart was so torn throughout this entire fic, you have no idea!! The way she manages to pacify him loll. So sweet and sexy in a way, but also, you get the sense that she thinks Ben might just see her as a pretty face, even if he does care about her deep down? It makes you wonder where her heart is truly going to lie at the end of all this angsty love-triangle goodness.

Mine was too! I literally kept going back and forth from Ben to Dean, trying to figure out who she should be with. Because she has incredible chemistry with Ben and she understands him in a way that I think he's not used to. And on the other hand Dean understands her because she's a hunter, he's just being a stubborn idiot 🤣

AND you're right! The reader thinks that Ben only sees her as a pretty face at the moment. She doesn't understand that he has started to develop feelings for her. But I think that the reader also believes that Ben has the possibility to become more than just someone she sleeps with. That he could love her if she let him and if she loved him.

Oh my God this part was completely unhinged and it was hilarious! But the way Ben decides to "get rid of her" is unfortunately on-brand, not caring enough about the collateral damage, the risk of the reader getting hurt. 💔 Even though he does check on her afterwards, the way Dean protected her has my heart swinging back to him and melting in a whole different way!! 😫 Gah! This is so conflicting! loll don't do this to me, friend. 😂😂 I need to dive right into Part 3 so I get to see what happens between her, Ben, and Dean, and just who will confess their feelings first...

Yes see, I went to see Wicked with my friends the weekend before I wrote this and you have no idea how much I love the OC Iris that I made for this fic. I was also thinking "how many references to How To Lose A Guy In 10 Days can I put in one fic?" lol. I was sad that I had to kill her- but it had to be done. There needed to be a dramatic moment where Dean chose to save the reader and give the reader a little bit of doubt about Ben and also show the way he is (unfortunately). But Ben coming to check on the reader literally put me on the fence all over again because he was being soft for her 😭

I'm so sorry to do that to you my friend!! But admit it, you love the angst lmao 💞😉

Thank you so much for all your comments my lovely friend! I always love to hear what you think! And I can't wait to read what you think of Part 3! 💗

Part 2: It Is A Big Deal

Pairing: Soldier Boy x f!reader, Dean Winchester xf!reader,

POV: Reader POV

Summary: Dean's in for a rude awakening when he finds out exactly what you did when you got stranded in another universe.

Tropes: Frenemies (Dean and the Reader), Awkward Situation, Multiverse Problems, ANGST

Word Count: 7.4K

Warnings: I'm gonna label this 18+ just to be sure. Cursing, Making Out, DEATH, Violence (only a little), Jealousy, Pining, Kinda Sad Vibes In Some Places, Sexual Innuendo, References to Sex, Feelings, Angst, Self Deprecating Thoughts? References to Past Sex (it happens quite a bit). References to Future Sex. Soldier Boy Being Soldier Boy (Everyone knows he’s a warning). Dean Winchester Being Dean Winchester (aka. being moody and super hot).

Listen While You Read: Jealous Again By The Black Crowes

Note: This is told from Reader's perspective. Any references to the reader is made using you or your. There is no use of y/n. I tried my best to proofread, but nobody's perfect. If you don’t like, don’t read, but if you do like, you’re my favorite!

Internal monologue is in italics and is in first person

A/N: It was so fun to come back to this universe again! Thank you so much to everyone for all the love and support that you've gave me in writing the first part and thank you for all the encouragement to write a part 2! And also please don't forget to check out Stranded by @justagirlinafandomworld that inspired me to write this fic!💗

Main Masterlist

Series Masterlist

"Can the two of you stop playing find my tonsils and tell me where the hell it is I'm supposed to be driving to?" Dean grouses from the driver's seat while Sam leans over a road map squinting to look at the small print.

"Ready For Love" is playing over the speakers, barely audible over the thud of fat raindrops pummeling the windshield, blocking out the world around you, and sending the shadows racing across your skin where Ben and you are sitting in the backseat.

“Well, if you’d given me a few hours to fuck her at the motel instead of throwing a bitch fit-" Ben begins to say, turning his gaze your face to stare at the back of Dean's head with a lazy smile.

“Dean why do you care?" You interrupt Ben with red cheeks. "I know for a fact worse things have happened in the backseat of your car than Ben and me making out."

"Really? Because I can’t think of anything worse that you and him sucking on each other's tongues and helping the spread of mono." Dean's hands tighten on the steering wheel and his shoulders tense.

He’s more wound up than a tinker toy.

It has been exactly thirty three minutes since Dean's mental breakdown back at the motel when Ben showed up. Furthermore, despite how much Dean had screamed at you at the motel, it appeared that he was still going to act like a two year old who wanted a cookie before dinner.

Sam's suggestion for the four of you to figure out why Ben was here had been a welcome distraction from Dean's spiral. It had prompted all of you to pile into Baby to try and find where it was that Ben landed in your universe and find a clue as to why.

But so far the trip had been less like riding in the Mystery Machine and more like riding with the Griswold's on their road trip to Wally World…

Dean had been supportive of trying to find a solution to what he deemed the "Ben problem," but it appeared that Dean was going to spend every waking minute getting on your nerves.

Honestly, what's new?

You didn’t understand why Dean was so damn argumentative whenever you showed up, it was like he lived to make your life as difficult as possible.

It had always been that way. Since the first day you met Sam and him at Ellen's bar forever ago, Dean had never once said something nice about you or to you.

He always found some little thing to nit pick, whether it be your aim, your research skills, or your technique when hunting and you were sick of it. Each time the two of you worked together, it was Sam's job to make sure it didn't end in bloodshed. Even Cas noticed Dean's underlying hostility towards you and when he asked Dean what was wrong, Dean had brushed him off with a "not now Cas."

Worse was the time that you got hurt (only a minor injury) on a hunt a few weeks ago when you got thrown into a glass cabinet while facing down a poltergeist. Dean had chewed you out for a good twenty minutes and even with Sam's ability to intervene, you'd broken Dean's nose for speaking to you like that, and then rushed off to your room in the bunker before he had a chance to see you cry.

It was the one thing that you never allowed yourself to do in front of Dean Winchester, cry. He didn't deserve your tears, especially not when he was being a total grade A asshole.

When Sam came in later to help you get patched up, you asked him why Dean hated you and Sam tried to convince you otherwise, but you knew the truth.

Dean Winchester hated you, and you had no idea why. So you decided to stop trying to make him like you, because if he was going to act like a total dick he didn't deserve you being nice to him.

You knew that was why you liked Ben more. Ben appreciated you (sort of), he wasn't mean, he listened to you (sometimes), and he did give you compliments… well, they all revolved around the way you looked and that was nice, but just you wanted someone to give you a compliment that had to do with something else. Or maybe just a simple "I see you."

Is that so hard to ask?

Your few flings in the past hadn't been anything special. You didn't have the kind of stable lifestyle that prompted or supported long serious relationships, especially with non-hunters. Not to mention you'd always had this fantasy about meeting another hunter who understood exactly what you went through and what you had gone through over the years. It was often difficult to find a non-hunter who could understand that.

The bunker was the first permanent address that you'd ever had. Your mother had been one of the best hunters in the US, known by all, and you never met your dad, which meant that growing up on the road was the only life you knew. She'd died a year before you started working with the Winchesters which meant that you didn't exactly have anyone that you cared about or anyone who cared about you.

The thought often brought the feeling of loneliness stirring in your chest, but you pushed it down, throwing everything you had into hunting.

Healthy right?

Ben's muscular arm is wrapped around your waist, his hand splayed over your lower back to keep you tight against his chest so there is no space between the two of you, while your hands locked at the back of his neck. You didn't usually like PDA that much, occasionally yes, but you'll admit that you were only allowing yourself to give in to Ben a little more, because you liked how much it annoyed Dean.

Yes, you thought that it was absolutely ridiculous how Dean was acting, but you wanted to give him a taste of his own medicine. Because in all the years you'd known him, you’d never found one thing to hold over his head or one thing that really irritated him, and Ben was working like a charm.

It also felt really good to kiss him, but that was beside the point.

You understood that Dean was having a psychotic break with his constant proclamations that Ben "was him," but you wanted to at least understand why Dean was still hung up on it.

Ben isn't Dean. Sure they have the same face, but Ben is different… isn't he?

When you'd encountered Ben for the first time you had done a double take, but the more you were around him, the more you appreciated the way he treated you differently from Dean. Yes he was a little sexist, but Ben made you feel wanted and Dean had a way of making you feel stupid and often like a burden, as if you'd been plopped on his doorstep like a box of kittens and he was stuck with you.

There was only so much that you could take.

You didn't know what you'd done to earn such hostility. Dean was far from sexist, and you'd seen him interact with other people, it was just you he treated differently and it made you want to strangle him.

"Calm down kid-" Ben sighs.

"Stop calling me that!" Dean turns around to glare at the man next to you.

"Keep your eyes on the road." Sam says, not looking up from the map. He didn't need to.

"What a wonderful suggestion Sammy, but see I can't because I have no idea where the hell it is I'm going!" Dean snipes at his brother.

I swear at this point if Gabriel pops out of nowhere and tells me that this is all just a fucked up dream, I'd believe it.

"Stop being damn hormonal kid, and keep driving." Ben rolls his eyes and moves his lips to your throat, nipping and biting along the flesh visible over the top of your jacket, making you gasp softly and lean into Ben's warm embrace.

Your eyes meet Dean's in the rear view mirror and just for a second you see something flash through them that isn't anger, but it's gone just as soon as you clock it.

What was that?

Dean slams on the brakes and Ben tightens his grip on your body so you don't go flying forward into the bucket seat.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" You snap, curiosity gone, as you glare at Dean.

The tension in the car is high, popping and crackling around the four of you like popcorn. You still couldn't understand why Dean had such a problem with Ben. If anything you'd think that they'd get along a little bit.

"I am not being hormonal or whatever other chauvinistic shit that is about to come out of your mouth." Dean snarls, ignoring you, as he turns and narrows his eyes at Ben. "And I am not your chauffeur. So tell me where the hell it is I'm going so you can get the fuck out of my car and out of my life!"

Ben opens his mouth to retort something, no doubt that'll trigger Dean, but you speak before he can.

"Ben, do you remember anything about where you came through?" You ask him. You were trying to be more diplomatic even though Dean was making your blood boil.

Just because Dean is mad at me does not mean that he gets to take it out on Ben. Ben hasn't done anything wrong. He got sucked into this reality and immediately got pulled into Dean's soap opera.

Ben huffs out a sigh as he turns back to look at you. His gaze softens a little as his eyes meet yours, turning from a dark green to a jade. "There was a building-"

"Oh wow, how helpful!" Dean snarks. "Did you hear that Sammy? There was a building! Mystery solved!"

Ben whips his head in Dean's direction, the air in the car growing hot as Ben's skin begins to heat, but you gently lay your hand on his cheek to bring his gaze back on you. "Dean is an asshole. We all know." You say to Ben, reassuring him and ignoring the look Dean gives you when you say it. "Do you remember anything about the building?"

Getting Ben angry wasn't the way to get information out of him, he was, after all, more like Dean than you were willing to admit. And just as you'd seen Dean get worked over by numerous women, including Bella, sweet talking worked the best.

Well, it never worked when you tried to do it, because Dean refused to treat you any way other than an annoyance.

But two could play that game, especially with the way that Dean was acting right now.

Ben's jaw tightens and you know that he's biting back some remark to throw Dean's way, but you pull him closer, trailing your hand over his bearded cheek to keep his attention and gently bring your lips to his. You feel the tension shift from Ben's shoulders beneath the palms of your hands as he relaxes into the kiss, and this time Ben smiles when you pull away, giving your hips an encouraging squeeze. "It was a school or some shit. And there was a billboard for "World's Biggest Beer Can.""

"Okay. We can work with that." Sam says giving you a sympathetic look before pulling out his phone to type something in.

At least Sam is being normal about this whole thing.

Sam and you always got along, from the start he was the older brother that you never had, and it was refreshing. Not to mention Sam was your best and probably only friend. The hunter life was lonely and you found it difficult to make friends anyway, but something about Sam always stuck. He got your abnormal sense of humor, he gave the best hugs, and he stood up for you when things got heated between Dean and you. It was his idea for you to move into the bunker with him and Dean, and also him that convinced Dean to let you move in.

It had taken days for Dean to finally say yes. And when he did, he made you move into the bedroom next to his as if he wanted to keep an eye on you because he didn't trust you.

And as much as you hated living with Dean, living with Sam made up for it. You liked helping him research while Dean bitched and moaned about reading through dusty volumes, liked helping him clean up while Dean followed behind you as if you couldn't be trusted, liked helping Sam try to make dinner that ended up more burned than anything else until Dean stepped in and shooed the both of you from the kitchen so he could make something, and liked kicking back on the couch watching movies with Sam while eating copious amounts of popcorn.

Unfortunately, Dean didn't get the hint that you wanted him to leave you alone so he'd follow Sam and you, crack open a beer, and proceed to give a personal commentary on the movie the two of you were watching, occasionally throwing a look in your direction as if he was checking that you were listening to him. Weirder still was the fact that Dean would do that when Sam wasn't with you.

You noticed that sometimes, that no matter where you were in the bunker, Dean just happened to find himself in the same room. But that didn't mean he would speak, sometimes he would just be cleaning one of his guns or quietly reading through a dusty volume or writing something down in a notebook, but you swore sometimes you thought that Dean was looking at you. Each time you looked up though, he was looking down at whatever else it was he was doing.

It was those moments that made you think that things could be civil between the two of you, and then he'd get on your case for doing something he deemed "wrong" when you knew you did it right the first time as if you hadn't been a hunter as long as he had.

He probably does that because he doesn't trust me.

Dean grumbles something under his breath and turns his gaze back out the windshield, watching the wiper blades go back and forth over the glass, crossing his arms over his chest. Ben frowns and you know that he must have been able to hear whatever it was Dean said.

Why can't we all just get along for five minutes? Is that too much to ask?

"Alright I've got something." Sam says ending the uncomfortable silence in the car. "The World's Biggest Beer Can is in Northwood about ten miles ahead of us."

"Finally. At least someone is pulling their weight." Dean states before he hits the gas, the force throws you backwards into the seat.

Your gaze flicks up to the rearview mirror and notice that Dean is watching you again, but you turn away to Ben who smiles wide and pulls you back towards him for a kiss.

But deep down you can't help but wonder if Dean had been watching the two of you in his rearview mirror the whole time and why he cared so much.

The building that Ben remembers is in fact, an abandoned school.

The roof sags inward allowing rainwater to pool in the front lobby over black and white checkered tiles, the lockers are rusted and thrown to the floor at odd angles making you worry about the possibility of tetanus, and there is an ungodly stench that you can only describe as old gym socks, axe body spray, and unwashed feet.

Ben's nose wrinkles where he stands beside you, and you're sure that no matter what your sense of smell is experiencing it's a million times worse for him.

You press your lips into a tight line, toeing around a puddle of something gray and sticky that you can't identify, but know for a fact you don't want it in your shoes. Your eyes squint into the looming darkness that grows the more you stare down the forgotten hallways.

It’s always gotta be an old creepy building. Just once I want to get to investigate a donut shop or a burger joint or a Starbucks.

"Any of this looking familiar Captain Sexual Harassment?" Dean asks turning with his flashlight to point in Ben's face.

Ben shrugs and squints at the offending light. "I don’t fucking know."

"Enlightening." Dean huffs out a breath. "Well, guess we can split up and-"

Thank God I won't have to listen to Dean mutter things under his breath and freak out.

"Fine." You interrupt. "Come on Ben." You start to walk down one of the dark hallways, but Dean slides in front of you to block your path.

"No way. You're not going with him." Dean waves his flashlight in Ben's face again and you can see the twitch on the corner of Dean's mouth to see how much he enjoys blinding him.

Why does he always have to act like such a child?

"Why?" You demand.

"Because as soon as Sam and I get out the picture, Grandpa over there is going to pull you aside and fuck you in one of the classrooms." Dean says it without blinking, but it makes you flush red in embarrassment and anger.

"No, he's not!"

"Yes, he is!"

Dean is so close that you can feel his warm breath on your face. His eyes are narrowed in anger, but you can see another emotion flick through them so quickly you think you imagined it. It was the same emotion that you thought you saw in the car, but you can't identify it, not yet.

Ben's hand comes down on Dean's shoulder, a wide smirk on his face. "Look kid, I get it. She's fucking hot and I know you think I'm trying to horn in on your action-"

"What the hell are you talking about?" Dean exclaims shaking off Ben's hand.

"You're jealous because she decided to be with a real man instead of you." Ben shrugs. His gaze travels up and down Dean as if appraising him before he shakes his head with a chuckle. "I can't blame her. Someone like you couldn't handle her.

"I could handle her just fine!" Dean snaps back his face flushing as he forces his chest against Ben's, who only smirks back.

What did he just say?

Your entire body goes stick straight in surprise and you turn your head to stare at Dean. In all the years that you'd known Dean he's never once said something like that to you.

Sure there was the night you met…

You hadn't thought about it in years. You'd been back in town because Bobby had called asking you to help out some friends of his on a case and you'd stopped in to Ellen's bar to see Jo. Dean had come on to you and you'd splashed a beer in his face and also maybe pinned him down against the bar. It had been awkward the next day when you found out that Dean and Sam were the friends that Bobby wanted you to help out, but you pushed past all the weird feelings to help.

Dean had flirted with you that night and you will admit to yourself that you thought Dean was attractive before he opened his mouth, but since that night the two of you hadn't spoken about it. In fact, you were both perfectly happy pretending that it didn't happen.

Or so you thought.

Dean's dark green eyes flick to yours in realization. "That's not what I meant."

"Sure kid." Ben's smirk grows to Cheshire Cat proportions.

"Stop calling me that!"

The weird thing was, you'd seen Dean lose his temper, it always flared fast and hot broken up with sarcastic comments, but for some reason this felt different and you didn't understand why. It didn't feel like Dean just getting angry because Ben was getting under his skin, it felt like something else.

"Whoa!" You get between the two of them for the second time in an hour. "If you guys keep fighting like this I'm going to put you both in time out!"

"He started it!" Dean glares at Ben, who doesn't look the least bit upset.

"I don’t care who started it! You're grown men and you're still acting like toddlers. I shouldn't have to separate you." You snap waving around your flashlight at Dean.

"How about this?" Sam sighs from where he stands a few feet away. "I'll go with Ben and the two of you can try not to shoot each other."

"Why can't I go with you?" You sigh to your friend.

"You want to leave them together? Alone?" Sam raises his eyebrow.

Not really.

Sam takes your silence rightfully as confirmation, because the both of you knew if you left Dean and Ben together it would probably be a Thunderdome situation or a reenactment of the WWE.

"Maybe we shouldn't split up." Dean says looking at his brother.

"You scared kid?" Ben smirks. " No wonder she decided to fuck me instead of you. You’re acting like a little bitch."

"You son of a bitch-" Dean finally snaps and launches himself towards Ben, but your hand fists in the back of Dean's leather jacket to stop him from starting a fight that you know he won't win.

It wasn't that you thought Ben was a better fighter than Dean, it was that Ben had super strength and would have no qualms ripping Dean in half. And despite how much Dean annoyed you, you didn't want him to die. Sure he was a jerk, but he didn't deserve that after everything he'd been through, and Sam didn't need to bear witness to that.

"Fine." You say. "Ben please go with Sam."

Ben rolls his eyes and follows after Sam, leaving Dean and you standing in the lobby alone, the only sound the soft plop of water echoing down the empty hallway.

Great. Now I'm stuck with Dean in a creepy old building. It's a dream come true. The stuff of Disney movies.

"Why did you do that?" Dean snaps at you when Ben and Sam turn a corner out of sight.

"You should be thanking me! Ben would rip you in half without batting an eye!" You turn back towards the empty hallway and try to put as much distance as you can between Dean and you.

Distance is good, nice. It means that I can only partly hear his disapproval.

"You don't know that." Dean catches up with you, sweeping the path in front of you with his flashlight looking for holes in the floor.

"Yes, I do. I've seen him do it before."

By now you were aware that there was a chill in the air, it was unnatural, creeping down the hallway in a thin mist that made a shiver crawl down your spine. Dean must sense it too, because he pulls his gun at the same time you do.

That or he's doing it because he's about to go Rambo on Ben's ass.

Because that'll end well…

"If he rips people in half why do you like him so much?"

“He’s not a bad person if that’s what you’re getting at. Ben did it to save me.” You point your flashlight into one of the classrooms along the hallway noting the rotted desks tipped over onto the checkered floor. “He wouldn’t hurt me.”

Ben's world was filled with more than a few crazed individuals, and when you'd been in his universe Ben had stepped in when a supe threw themselves at you. Truthfully, even though Ben did what he did to protect you, watching him pull someone apart with his bare hands made you sick to your stomach. Given what you'd seen, that was saying something. But you knew that Ben wouldn't hurt you, he wasn't that kind of man, and you weren't afraid of him.

“You’ve known him for five days! How can you tell after five days?!” Dean nudges a cardboard box with his boot sending a family of cockroaches scuttling into the shadows.

"Because I can!" Your lip curves up in distaste at the appearance of the roaches and try not to imagine all the walls infested with the little bugs.

You didn't like roaches. Especially ones that all of a sudden developed the ability to fly in your presence as if it were a miracle.

The two of you continue to walk down the hallway, the sound of your footsteps masking the constant dripping noise that comes from the floor above.

Your temper was flaring all over again. You didn't think that you needed to explain any of this to him. Dean never felt the need to discuss his extensive history with women with you and you didn't feel the need to discuss the ins and outs of your and Ben's situation.

"Come on-" He begins to say, but you don't want to hear it.

"Dammit Dean just fucking drop it." You throw your shoulder against a door at the end of the hallway, putting everything you have into it and a little more. You were getting frustrated at Dean's continuous commentary on your life. "I don’t want to talk about this anymore or listen to any of the ridiculous reasons why you think that it's any of your business who I sleep with."

“I think it is my business because you were about to reenact the scene from Titanic in the back of my car!”

“Oh please. I’m sure that you’ve reenacted it billions of times back there. Mr. Saturday Night!” You roll your eyes hitting the door again with your shoulder.

“It’s my car!" Dean shouts, moving you out of the way in a surprisingly gentle way, before he savagely kicks down the door. "I can do whatever I damn well please!”

I wonder if Sam and Ben are having a better time than us. It wouldn't be difficult to.

The door opens with a snap under the force of Dean's kick depositing Dean and you into a large auditorium. The seats are a faded gray and the curtains that hang from the sides of the stage, once blood red, were more of a muddled pink stained with splotches of dark spots and filled with holes the size of the Impala.

Crawling vines and ferns have begun to tangle over the empty seats and over the floors, absorbing anything in their path. The wooden stage is dilapidated and caving in on itself, the boards jutting upwards instead of laying flat as they should in some places from years of water damage. The carpet beneath your feet is squishy and moth eaten, and each step sends another cloud of dust into the air making the room hazy and you cough into your elbow.

"Not to mention he's me!" Dean continues, tramping into the room behind you.

"How many times are you going to say that?" You pinch the bridge of your nose, trying your best to keep it together.

"As many times as I have to, to get the point into your thick skull!"

You whirl around and poke your finger into his chest. "You know what Winchester? You can take all your opinions and shove them right up your uptight ass!"

"The two of you don't get along at all. Odd given how you seem to get along with my fiancé." A bored voice says from somewhere behind you. "But it is a lot more entertaining than I thought it was going to be."

Dean and you both lock eyes and turn to look in the direction of the voice, but there's no one there.

"Um, did you hear-" Dean begins to ask.

"Yes I did." You reply clicking the safety off your pistol.

"Just checking."

"Though I will say, with the way today is going for you and if this is you having a psychotic break, I wouldn't be surprised that you're having auditory hallucinations."

"Shut up." Dean sighs.

"Hello?" You shout, looking around the empty auditorium for some answer, but it remains empty.

Dean snorts. "Now who's craz-"

"Hello?" The voice mocks in a nasally voice. "Wow you're pathetic. I don't understand what he sees in you."

"You call me pathetic, but you're the one hiding. So why don't you come out?" A chair from the front row plucks itself off the ground and hurls itself at your head. You duck and it sails into the aisle behind Dean and you.

"You're not even that pretty." The voice continues and you can imagine a pout on the end of its words like a petulant child who wishes to get their way.

This is so fucking weird.

"Thanks." You reply dryly. "I like to think I've got a great personality."

"You don't." Dean mutters, making you throw an elbow into his side.

A high pitched giggle echoes through the space making it impossible to identify where it came from, until finally a woman materializes on the stage. You blink your eyes to make sure that she's really there.

Her blonde hair falls over her shoulders in perfect ringlets, and she's wearing a bright pink fur trimmed dressing gown. The kind you'd see on an eccentric billionaire's trophy wife who spent most of her day drinking gin martinis poolside while being fanned by cabana boys or the kind that she'd be wearing when she heard of her husband's "untimely demise." There's a silver diamond crown perched on top of her head and she's smoking a cigarette from a long white cigarette holder, while she lounges back on a golden throne.

What. The. Fuck.

"Do you see her too?" You whisper to Dean out of the corner of your mouth.

"You mean Glinda the Good Witch the later years? Yeah I can." Dean replies looking just as confused as you do. "You thinking Gabriel?"

"I thought he was dead."

"He's pretended to be dead before." He shrugs.

"Fair enough. Any reason why he's making us see her?"

"Maybe your new boyfriend has a fetish."

"Hasn't anyone told you that it's rude to whisper?" The woman says, taking a drag from her cigarette.

"Sorry. Um. Who are you?" You ask.

"I don't speak to homewreckers." Her face contorts into a sneer. You watch her eyes shift from Dean to you. "But I'll answer for your friend. I'm Iris, Benjamin's Fiancé."

If pigs could fly right now an entire fleet of them would be taking flight around you. You tried to wrack your brain remembering a single time that Ben said that he had a fiancé or was in a relationship at all, and you can't find a single moment.

Well… today officially sucks.

"Wow. Nice." Dean looks at you with a scoff. "Real nice."

"Hey woah, I didn't know he had a fiancé." You hold up your free hand in surrender. "He never said anything about a-"

"Hey gorgeous. Did you find anything?" Ben says materializing behind Dean.

"You're engaged?" You shout.

"No?" Ben looks confused. "Who told you that?"

You point a thumb over your shoulder to Iris, who is still lounging on the stage completely in her element. She giggles and wiggles her fingers in a cute wave.

"Hey Benny Wenny, did you miss me?" Her lips curl up in a wide smile when she rises from the throne, her bright blue eyes crinkling around the edges. The air around her seems to sparkle, sending scattered light out into the broken seats.

Ben is still staring up at the woman, looking utterly confused.

"You know that freak?" Dean whispers to Ben who is now standing shoulder to shoulder with him.

"Fuck no."

"Well, congratulations Benny Wenny." Dean snorts. "Guess you're getting married."

"I am not-"

"And don't worry, of course I'll be your best man." Dean continues, holding back laughter.

"Shut the fuck up kid!" Ben snaps at Dean, before turning back to the woman on the stage. "Look baby, I don't know who you are but-" Ben begins to say to the woman, who only laughs.

She throws back her head, golden curls bouncing with the force of her body moving, laughing for an unnatural amount of time before she locks her blue eyes on Ben again.

“Stop being silly. We met a few months ago at Legend’s party. We had a few drinks and then you came back to my apartment where we made love for hours-“ Her cheeks blush. “It was sooooo romantic. What I always dreamed about!”

“Um-“

“My parents are so excited to meet you and my little sister said that she’s so happy to have a big brother!” She giggles. “I even made us matching t-shirts to wear on our honeymoon and a scrap book of our children!" She holds up a magenta colored bedazzled photo album that’s the size of a medium sized dog.

Wow she put a lot of work into that.

“Children?” Ben stutters, his voice cracking on the end a little bit. It's the first time that you've ever seen him look afraid.

“What they’ll look like, where we’ll vacation each year, where we'll live, where you'll work-” Her expression turns sour, eyes flashing a dark pink as she glares in your direction. “But then you met that little whore who took you away from me and poisoned your mind.” She points a perfectly manicured pink nail at you. “So I decided to bring you here so you could help me kill her.”

“I’m sorry rewind-“ You say holding up a hand. “You brought Ben here? How?"

"I found a website while I was looking at destination weddings." She shrugs.

"There are websites about traveling through different universes that show up in the search engine-" Dean begins to say.

"DON'T QUESTION ME!" The girl shrieks and the entire room begins to shake.

"And you wanted Ben to be here because?" You haven’t lowered your gun. Frankly you had no idea what her powers were. She looked more like she would start tap dancing down the yellow brick road rather than start hurling chunks of the stage at you, but you needed a plan.

“Because we’ll get to share this moment together.” Iris sighs looking over at Ben again, who is just as shell-shocked as he was a moment ago.

“Killing me?”

Iris nods enthusiastically. “We'll make love on top of your dead body and no one will come between us ever again!” 

Dean snorts under his breath and you elbow him again, trying not to think of the image.

Please let this be Gabriel messing around with me. Because if it's not my life is officially a joke.

The three of you stand there for a minute looking up at where she prances on the stage in mixed stages of disbelief.

And just as Iris takes a step forward, a sandbag falls on her head. She crumples to the floor like a sack of potatoes as Sam appears in the wings of the stage looking from her to where the three of you are watching.

"You guys okay?" He calls.

"Yeah." Ben shrugs. "Too bad about her though. She was hot."

He's kidding right?

"The crazies always are." Dean adds with a sigh, patting him on the back.

"I'm so happy the two of you are having this bonding moment, truly I am, but-" You begin to say, turning your back to the stage, but as soon as you do Sam goes flying across the room and into one of the fern plants.

"That was so uncool!" Iris squeals, hovering over the stage, her hands glowing an unnatural magenta color. "Ben and I are meant to be together, we're soulmates, perfect, fated, destined, and no one is going to stand in my way."

The entire room begins to tremble with the force of her anger, dust floats down from the ceiling as it begins to crack and crumble under her powers. You can feel the warmth of Ben's skin as he begins to power up the beam in his chest, burning through the air like a supernova.

There's a crackling sound that comes from above and you look up to see a giant piece of the ceiling falling in slow motion towards your body. Dean shouts your name, but he sounds far away, the sound ringing through the few seconds that you still have left before it crushes you.

But the hit doesn't come from above, it comes from the side.

Dean tackles you, just as the piano sized piece hits the ground where you had been standing a second ago, to the ground, cradling your head in his hands. Your bodies tumble into the moth eaten carpets as Ben explodes, the heat and power of the beam causing more of the room to fall around the two of you.

There's a terrible high pitched wail that's cut off abruptly mid scream and you don't need to be a genius to know what or rather who it was.

Dean covers your body with his and your hands come up under his arms to hold him tighter to you. You bury your face into the warmth of his coat where his throat and his shoulder meet with a whimper as everything around the two of you shudders and shakes. He doesn't pull away, his muscles tensing as he tightens his grip around you, his own face buried in your hair.

The room continues to shake and fall apart in the aftermath of the blast, dust and ash rising in clouds. But you can’t see any of it, Dean's body is shielding you from the room as it crumbles around the two of you, tucking you further beneath him the longer it goes on, making it impossible for anyone or anything to hurt you.

You could feel something curling in the pit of your stomach the longer you laid there under him, an odd feeling that you'd tried to push down whenever you were around Dean, a warmth that begins to spread like wildfire through your body everywhere the two of you are touching. His body is warm and heavy, but it's not oppressive, it lays over you protective and unyielding in the wake of the destruction.

The smell of him invades your senses, a mix of gunmetal, leather, and a spicy scent that tickled your nose. You'd smelled Dean's shampoo before, when it wafted out of the bathroom as you walked down the hallway, imprinting itself in your mind. It was how the impala smelled, always like Dean, and with it brought a feeling of comfort that you'd never known before.

It was odd.

"Are you okay?" Dean whispers, and you can feel the rumble of his words through his chest where it's touching you, his hips laying in the cradle of your thighs. He pulls back to look at your face, the rough grate of his stubble catching your chin as he does so. His eyes are wide with worry and it's the first time that you'd ever seen him look at you that way.

Dust and ash caught in his hair in graying clumps, sticking to the shortened brownish gold strands, the ones that were just a little shorter than Ben's. You longed to run your fingers through, to feel if it was as soft as it looked.

"I think so." You murmur, not used to the weight of his body on top of yours, but you're also trying not to notice how a part of you liked it. "Are you okay?" Your fingertips trail against the smooth leather of his jacket, working up to the back of his head, feeling just the subtle brush of the hair at the nape of his neck.

You don't miss the soft sigh that rushes out of Dean's chest when you do that, fueling the fire that was spreading in the pit of your stomach.

What is happening?

"Yeah." Dean's fingers brush your hair from your face, so quickly that you think you missed it, but the burn of his skin over your cheeks is the only reminder. You gasp softly with the movement, confused as to why Dean was acting this way, why he was worried about you, and why you liked it. Your arms are still wrapped around his body, fingers curled into the back of his leather jacket, but Dean makes no move to get up, he continues to look at you.

You'd never seen Dean look at you like that, look at you as if he wished to understand you, as if he saw you. No one had ever looked at you that way in your entire life.

"Dean!" You hear Sam yell from somewhere, followed by your own name.

It jolts Dean out of wherever his mind is and he gets off of you, but he helps you to your feet, one of his warm calloused hands taking yours to pull you up before dropping it as if he didn't do it in the first place.

The room is destroyed. The roof has completely caved in allowing the rain to soak through the remaining seats of the auditorium and into the musty carpets. The stage no longer exists, all that remains is a black blob of what you're sure used to be Iris, and although a part of you feels bad about the turn of events, you can't help but feel a little relieved.

She was going to kill me. You think to avoid the wave of guilt that washes over you.

"Ding dong the witch is dead." Dean mutters under his breath, but it doesn't make you feel better.

Fires burn over the edges of the stage, small and controlled, but sending rivulets of smoke into the air. You knew it meant that the fire department would be here any minute and that's the last thing you wanted to explain. That and the body on the stage.

Ben stumbles to his feet a few steps away from Dean and you, pushing off a piece of roofing that must have landed on top of him. His suit is covered in dust and drywall, but he looks okay. He's got that far-away look in his eye he always does after he uses his power.

You step towards him to make sure he's okay, but Dean stands in your way.

"Are you out of your mind?" Dean snarls at Ben.

"What the fuck is your problem?" Ben snaps.

"You almost killed us! Almost killed her!" Dean gestures towards you.

"I fixed the problem." Ben rolls his eyes and glances to you, as if trying to reassure himself that you're okay. You knew that Ben might have wanted to only have a physical relationship with you, but you knew that he did care about you in his own way. "You okay sweetheart?" He pushes past Dean, gently touching your face, tilting it up to his. "Did you hit your head?"

"No. I'm okay." You smile tightly at him, but a part of you can still feel the ghost of Dean's fingertips trailing against your cheeks to push away your hair and feel the weight of his body over yours. "Are you okay?" You ask, noting the way his eyes still are a little unfocused.

"Course I am." Ben scoffs. "Takes a little more than a building to bring me down doll."

You nod, while Ben's hand still continues to rest on your chin, and just as he leans down for a kiss, you see Dean's face in the corner of your eye and finally you're able to identify the emotion reflected in his gaze. It's the same emotion that you saw in the car when he stared at you in the rearview mirror. It's the first time that you've ever seen Dean look at you that way in all the years you'd known him.

It's hurt that flashes behind the green eyes you knew so well, shifting to jealousy on around the darkened edges the longer he looks at Ben and you.

And when Ben's lips touch yours, you feel guilt begin to creep along your skin and extinguish the sparks you'd felt moments ago in the pit of your stomach.

A/N: I'm not going to lie, I did not mean for this part to be a little sad... but oh my word 😭 BUT I also promise that the next chapter will have a happy ending ❤️

Thank you so much for reading! Likes, Reblogs, and Comments are not required, but are always appreciated. I love hearing what y'all think! If you'd like to be added to the taglist for Part 3 please let me know!

Taglist:

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@bitchykittenconnoisseur

[kawhh]

Got up and took a walk after thinking about dark Jack in the early stages. He seems like a meticulous person (genuinely, even outside this) and he would have everything prepared for your forever and in place ready to go.

Coming home after your first date and he whips out his phone to check the GPS checker from the airtag in your purse he signed into.

He gifts you a plushie before leaving for his first roadie. At the hotel the next night he pulls up the live feed from the camera in its eye, and gets watch you sleep and learn what side of the bed you sleep on and moves to the other side on his bed back home to be adjusted by the time you start sleeping together.

You're having a movie night at his place and he gets up to get a blanket that is "coincidentally" the same one you have on your bed, pulling open his closet doors with a rack of his jerseys ready for you along with some clothes for when you accompany him to golf courses, corporate dinners, and other places he can no longer see himself going without you.

A month in you open his nightstand drawer to get a condom mid makeout, blindly fumbling over the engagement ring box and stack of papers with your forged signature to break your lease and push you into his arms forever.

I'll be taking a walk after reading this. You're all too good at this, it's incredibly unfair. I'm gonna have to learn to be normal whenever I talk about any of these men - once the thoughts are in my head it's basically canon lore lmao.

This man's putting fucking airtags everywhere you look. He's not risking that you won't change purses, won't drop the airtag. Needs one in your jacket, in your car, you aren't gonna move without him knowing exactly where you are.

I need the plushies to be a permanent event. You aren't afraid to do anything in front of a plushie - why would you? You're undressing? He's keeping an eye on your favourite types and colours of underwear.

Masturbating? He's taking notes. Needs to know what gets you off. How he should move his hands, how fast, needs to be the ideal man for you from the start. You'll have no complaints about his technique.

The way you cuddle the plushie? Smush it against you? The way you give me a first row seat to your tits at night? He's glad he has the best camera quality he could buy in there.

He's on an absolute mission to find out every single piece of information you have avaliable.

Stalking your social media accounts constantly, looking for any locations tags, food, clothes, anything from before he knew you. Anything he might've missed.

Food delivery apps? He needs access to them too. How's he supposed to have all your favourite foods stocked for when he gets you over? What if you have allergies? You need to realise how compatible you are. He's happy to change his own preferences to keep up the act.

[shepherds-of-haven]

I was going through old asks and burst out laughing when I saw that one post where you mentioned how Blade once accompanied Lavinet on her monthly shopping trips. What I'd give to be a fly on the wall during that outing haha!! How did it end up happening? Did he volunteer himself for it?? Was he dragged into it by Lavinet? I just think it's funny bcs I could see Lavinet trying to engage him in the shopping process bcs she wants him to have fun during the outing too, and him just giving her the blandest, most basic responses to every question ever, which just ends up frustrating her even more!! Like I could imagine a conversation like this happening:

"Oh Blade, what do you think of these two shirts? I think the slimmer cut of this one would look more flattering on you, but I think the slightly darker hue of this one would bring out the colour of your eyes more... Do you have a preference for either?"

"....They're the same shirt."

And then they just go back and forth on how no it's obviously not the same shirt, and yes that is the price, but look at the quality of the material!! And the delicate stitching!! No we can't just get the cheapest option, and oh my god we've barely been here 5 minutes what do you mean you think you're done browsing??

I have a brother and this is exactly how every shopping trip with him goes; it's equal parts entertaining and exasperating lmao. I think Blade gives major "slightly disgruntled/confused man silently trailing behind woman, carrying her 25 shopping bags while she shops around" energy, and it's all so funny to me!!

Ahhh I love this, you are completely spot-on with your depiction! 😂 I imagine it started as most things with Lavinet start: a slyly-placed, casually-lobbed invitation that, once resisted, becomes outright bullying. She was pulling on her gloves to go out one day, Blade happened to be passing by, she made an offhand remark like, "Blade, darling! I'm about to do my rounds in the Market Quarter, would you like to come along? I notice your cloak is looking a little... bloodstained..."

Blade: "Thank you, but no. If my cloak tears, I can always place an order through the requisitions master."

Lavinet: "....You know, darling, that's all well in good for field gear, but you are Commander, you know. Don't you think you should have a larger wardrobe for formal occasions and such? You represent the face of the Order, after all..."

Blade: "I have formal wear."

Lavinet: "Yes, one suit. In one color. But surely you'd like a little more diversity..."

Blade: (genuinely bewildered) "Why would I? It would only make things more complicated."

Then it would go back and forth, with the vein in Lavinet's forehead ticking faster. 50/50 that she manages to drag him along with her that day, or if it's an ambush scenario where she materializes on his day off weeks later, having secretly arranged with Shery to clear his schedule so she could forcibly drag him with her to go shopping. She may not be able to cut and style his hair, but the gods strike her dead if she doesn't at least try to improve his wardrobe!!

[the-edge-of-great]

Are there any other interesting tidbits/changes in the Sonic movie novelization?

I’ll be honest, I didn’t read the first book lol I was really only interested in whether the writers had given Tails more of a backstory (which they did… kinda), so that’s why I read the second. However! I did read reviews online that said the first developed Tom & Sonic’s relationship more than in the movie.

Notable mentions in the 2nd book:

•Sonic 2 takes place 8 months after Sonic 1

• Tails spent many months seemingly looking for Sonic… He built those weapons Maddie & Rachel used at the wedding to account for the “natural disasters, dangerous adversaries, and booby traps” he encountered. (I mean!! That’s a whole tv show in itself!!)

• He also built a gun that atomizes things and he’s afraid of it, but he keeps it in his arsenal as a last resort. The text says that he isn’t sure it should be used, which is so interesting to me.

• I think he originally set out to look for the Master Emerald, but the Miles Electric (not what it's called in this universe but that’s what it is) kept picking up its energy across different planets... and somehow he knew that energy belonged to Sonic?

• Earth is the planet the rest of the galaxy is warned about lol

• Knuckles calls Sonic a Child of Mobius. Tails says that's "the traditional home of our kind".

• Tails is looking to find Sonic before “their enemies” do (weird that they have common enemies when they’ve never met?? WHO has Tails pissed off?????? Paramount!! I need to know!!)

• He was ready and willing to prepare Wade's garage for a siege attack (in exchange for stealing the police cruiser and driving it off a cliff). So, again—who has Tails pissed off?

• Instead of "The Master Emerald? That's just a bedtime story!" "Well, he believes it's real," it's "That's just a bedtime story!" "No, it's real. I should know. I think I’m one of the few still looking for it.” (What if one of his ‘enemies’ is Rouge? 👀)

• Tails runs the red light, and Sonic takes the wheel. Meanwhile, Tails climbs in the backseat of the cruiser to build speed boosters mid-chase 'cause Sonic was complaining they were going too slow xD. (This is where the "Promise? Promise you won't go anywhere?" happens :'))

• Tradition among the echidnas was to do an organ swap to make an alliance. Knuckles just breaks Eggman's hand instead, but that's… a part of the lore now. (edit: this is in my Top 5 favorite things from this book. I can imagine someone pitching this idea & the writer’s room going “what the fuck this is a kids movie” lmao)

• Tails offered to help Sonic in Siberia. No "I'm not a field guy!" protests here!

• Short Tails vs Eggman on the mountain (with very Sonic Raised Tails vibes 🥹; the text even says "Tails mocked the villain, almost like Sonic would have")

• Sonic doesn't believe he can fight Eggman and Knuckles alone after the wedding. Tom actually gives him a pep talk.

• Eggman's full name is Ivo Gerald Robotnik (Is that canon in other sonic medias?? I tried looking it up, but I don't see his name like that anywhere, yet I swear I already knew before I read it… *Is his full name canon, I mean. Ivo Gerald Robotnik.)

• Book Sonic reminds me of Modern Sonic more than his movie counterpart sometimes tbh

• There are multiple holograms of Sonic, Knuckles, and Tails at the start of the robot fight instead of just Tails.

• Maddie and Tom literally run through fire to reach Sonic

• Tails names Super Sonic!

• Instead of summoning a chili dog to prove he's not been corrupted by the Emerald, Sonic makes a fart noise with his armpit that has the "decibel of a bomb blast"

• Sonic recreates the Master Emerald, not Knuckles

• "Gotta go fast!" (when Sonic is running across the ocean to meet Eggman and Knuckles at the temple) and "Way past cool!" (post-battle when Tails introduces Knuckles to the power bump)

[aller-geez]

Live, Laugh, Lose Consciousness

written & illustrated by: allergeez 🖤

Wow, geezie can write fics that AREN’T Remi or Vaelyn? I know, I’m shocked too. "૮₍ ˶•⤙•˶ ₎ა saw @mew31 ‘s prompt (found here) and after a lovely anon encouraged me, (love you, Nonny 🖤) this fic was born. 4.3K words with a follow up fic in progress already..... @thekinkyleopard owns Elex 🖤

The stream started like any other—well, mostly. S7en leaned back in his chair, rubbing one eye with the heel of his palm as his other hand clicked through his usual startup routine. His teal and orange hair was a little more ruffled than usual, sticking up in odd places like he’d just rolled out of bed five minutes before going live. Which, to be fair, he had.

The camera feed flickered on, revealing his usual setup: LED-lit walls casting a dim glow over his desk, a collection of figures and posters crammed haphazardly onto shelves in the background, and of course, the telltale flick of his fluffy orange tail behind him. Normally, it swayed lazily or curled in satisfaction when he was vibing, but tonight it twitched with silent irritation. Not that he acknowledged it.

S7en dragged his mic closer, exhaling through his nose before finally addressing chat.

"Alright, you motherfuckers, 1Shot9Lives here and we’re live," he muttered, voice slightly raspier than usual as he adjusted his headset. He didn’t give the change much thought. Probably just needed water. Or caffeine. Maybe both.

He clicked through a few things on his second monitor, setting up the game as his chat flooded in with their usual chaos. "We’re playing Ghost’s Gambit today because—uh, because I said so. Also, Elex bailed on our co-op stream last second, so everyone bully him when you see him."

The messages scrolled at lightning speed.

[MOD] REXBURN: u sound like shit dude

VOIDGREMLIN: bro did u sleep at all

STYXORRI: uhhh yeah S7en u good?

CATTITUDE69: u look kinda rough tonight lmao

S7en rolled his eyes, clearing his throat sharply before speaking again. "I always sound like shit, thanks. That’s my brand.” He sniffled for dramatic effect, shooting a look at chat before continuing. "Y’all need to chill. I’m fine. Let’s start."

And that was that. He powered through, ignoring the mild scratch at the back of his throat, the slight congestion creeping into his words. It was nothing. Just one of those days where talking felt rough. Nothing new.

At least, that’s what he told himself.

For a while, things went smoothly. He played through the first section of the game, making sarcastic commentary about the haunted mansion’s ridiculously dramatic soundtrack and the protagonist’s questionable life choices. But every few minutes, he had to pause to clear his throat or take a sip of his drink. The rasp in his voice wasn’t going away—it was getting worse.

Chat, of course, noticed.

GHOSTBEE: ur voice is actually breaking dude

LOSTLAMB: are u dying or

[MOD] REXBURN: drink water. now.

S7en squinted at the chat, then at his can of soda. Technically, that was liquid. Good enough. He took a swig, wincing as the carbonation stung the rawness in his throat.

He barely acknowledged chat’s growing concern, too focused on the game—or at least, that’s what he wanted them to think. In reality, he was starting to feel it. That creeping, telltale tightness in his throat, the way his words felt just slightly too rough, like they were catching on sandpaper. He swallowed, grimacing at the lingering scratch, and reached for his drink again.

But carbonation and a sore throat? Not exactly a winning combination. The first sip stung enough to make him wince, and he had to bite back a cough. He set the can down with a little more force than necessary, shaking his head. "Geezus. That was a mistake."

VOIDGREMLIN: u good there, my guy?

CATTITUDE69: literally why do u drink soda when ur voice is dying lmao

[MOD] REXBURN: I SAID WATER. WATER, DUMBASS.

S7en rolled his eyes but still didn’t move to grab anything else. Instead, he cleared his throat again—harder this time—forcing his voice back to something more manageable. "I said relax. My voice is just doing that thing where it sounds like I’ve been chain-smoking for forty years. It’s fine."

It wasn’t fine.

He knew it wasn’t fine.

His throat felt tight, raw, and somehow both dry and congested at the same time. His sinuses had started to ache—not enough to be distracting yet, but enough to be annoying. He exhaled sharply through his nose, sniffling once before refocusing on the screen.

But chat wasn’t about to let it go.

STYXORRI: Uhhhh u sound worse than u did 10 min ago???

GHOSTBEE: Does this man even have a water bottle? Blink twice if you’re being held hostage by your own bad decisions.

VOIDGREMLIN: definitely getting sick lol

S7en scoffed, dragging a hand down his face. "Okay, first of all? Rude. Second of all?—" He cut himself off with another sharp sniff, his nose twitching slightly. A brief pause, his brows pulling together like he was trying to focus on something just out of reach. Then he suddenly turned his head, breath catching in a sharp, desperate inhale.

"Hh—! Hhh! HAHPT’tschiew!! HAH! AHHDT’shiiiiew!"

The sneezes snapped him forward, harsh and congested, forcing him to duck his head into his arm at the last second. He stayed there for a beat, sniffling, before straightening up with a heavy sigh.

Chat immediately lost it.

STYXORRI: OH HE’S GONE

VOIDGREMLIN: LMAO THAT WAS WET AS HELL

[MOD] REXBURN: fucking called it. called it.

CATTITUDE69: lmao he sneezes like an anime girl

S7en groaned, rubbing a knuckle under his nose as he sniffled again. "Okay, fuck you guys. That was—ugh—that was nothin’."

Another sniff. Another irritated twitch of his nose.

Yeah. This was definitely not nothin’.

S7en barely had time to blink before his breath caught again, his whole body tensing as another sneeze clawed its way to the surface. He gasped—sharp and desperate, his head tipping back slightly before he was wrenched forward once more.

“Hh! HHhih—! HAHDT’tchhhiiew! Hhh! AHHDT’tsschueh!!”

The force of it practically shook his frame, leaving him momentarily dazed as he blinked blearily at his screen. His ears flattened slightly, tail flicking behind him in a telltale sign of irritation—whether at himself or chat, he wasn’t sure.

And chat? Chat was feral.

VOIDGREMLIN: HOLY SHIT

CATTITUDE69: BRO U GOOD?

STYXORRI: this is the sickest catboy streamer arc we’ve ever seen

[MOD] REXBURN: called it AGAIN. y’all owe me money.

S7en groaned dramatically, scrubbing at his nose with the heel of his hand. It did nothing. If anything, the congestion just laughed at his attempt at relief, settling even deeper in his sinuses like it had set up camp there permanently. He sniffled, but it was weak, ineffective. The sheer stuffiness was making his voice even raspier when he finally muttered, "You guys are the worst."

GHOSTBEE: says the guy actively sneezing himself into an early grave on stream

VOIDGREMLIN: honestly impressive at this point

CATTITUDE69: u literally sound like a dying cartoon character lmfao

S7en exhaled sharply through his nose—immediately regretting it when the movement made his breath hitch again. “Oh, fuck m—hhHh!—me.”

His hands barely got up in time before he was thrown into another sudden, wrenching sneeze.

"HH’AHPT’TSSCHIIEW!!"

The force of it made his shoulders jerk violently, ears flattening even more as he sniffled miserably into his sleeve. His brain felt like it had short-circuited. He blinked a few times, dazed, before shooting chat an exhausted, half-lidded glare. "This is your fault, by the way."

[MOD] REXBURN: how the fuck is this OUR fault

GHOSTBEE: yeah bro I don’t remember being the one rolling around in a pile of pollen or whatever the fuck u did to yourself

STYXORRI: nah he just has the immune system of a wet paper bag

VOIDGREMLIN: get wrecked, nerd

S7en opened his mouth, fully prepared to snap back at chat, but the sharp inhale that followed cut him off completely. His breath hitched—quick, frantic gasps pulling his chest upward as his nostrils flared helplessly. He was on the precipice, teetering on the edge of release, his head already tilting back as his body prepared for the inevitable.

And then—nothing.

The sensation fizzled out entirely, leaving him stranded in the worst possible limbo. His nose twitched furiously, a cruel, lingering tickle buzzing deep in his sinuses like static electricity with no release in sight. His breath wavered once more, teasing at another attempt, only to leave him stuck in place, helpless and miserable.

Chat immediately exploded.

CATTITUDE69: oh my god he’s stuck

STYXORRI: SOMEONE PUT HIM OUT OF HIS MISERY

VOIDGREMLIN: bro buffering like a dial-up connection

[MOD] REXBURN: this is just embarrassing now

S7en let out a strangled groan, pressing the heels of his palms against his eyes in pure frustration. "I hate you all," he muttered, voice thick with congestion, but the heat crawling up his neck betrayed the way chat’s relentless teasing was getting to him.

He sniffled, thick and wet, scrubbing at his nose with the side of his hand in a fruitless attempt to banish the stubborn tickle. His fluffy tail flicked behind himk in irritation, but he quickly straightened up and forced a nonchalant shrug, trying to redirect the focus back to literally anything else.

"Anyway!" he rasped, voice still wrecked, but he powered through, picking up his controller again like nothing had happened. "We’re not gonna sit here and analyze my respiratory system, alright? Let’s get back to me carrying this game—since we all know I’m cracked as hell, even while dying."

He pressed a button to unpause, but his nose twitched again, a rapid series of sniffles betraying him before he could fully recover. Chat was still absolutely losing it, and he knew—he knew—they weren’t going to let him live this down.

For a while, he managed to power through. His fingers moved on autopilot across the controller, leading his character through dimly lit hallways and flickering candlelit rooms, his voice providing commentary—albeit raspier and more strained than usual. He made sure to keep the energy up, even as he had to stop every couple of minutes to sniffle or swipe a knuckle under his nose.

If he ignored it, it wasn’t happening. That was the rule.

But his throat was starting to itch. Not just a little tickle, not just something he could clear away—it was deep, an irritating scratch that no amount of swallowing or subtle throat-clearing could shake.

Still, he tried.

"Ahem." He coughed lightly into his fist, barely audible over the game’s ominous soundtrack.

Chat noticed immediately.

VOIDGREMLIN: bro you’re actually falling apart rn

GHOSTBEE: is it me or is he literally getting worse every five minutes

CATTITUDE69: cough once if you’re dying, cough twice if ur in denial

[MOD] REXBURN: just grab some water before you get stuck like that forever

S7en rolled his eyes, but his ears gave him away. The orange, tufted tips had started to sag, drooping ever so slightly as the irritation in his sinuses and throat mounted. He sniffled sharply, forcing himself to sit up a little straighter as if better posture would somehow help.

"Y’all are dramatic," he muttered, his voice definitely dipping further into hoarseness, but he just forced a cough and kept playing.

The itch in his throat lingered. It crept deeper, settling into his chest like a slow burn, and he knew—he knew—that if he wasn’t careful, he was gonna start coughing for real. He muttered another useless, half-hearted cough, barely suppressing a grimace when it rattled weakly in his lungs.

God, his eyes were getting blurry.

His vision kept swimming, the words on screen harder to focus on as his slitted pupils narrowed in an attempt to adjust. He blinked quickly, rubbing at his face with the palm of his hand to chase away the moisture gathering in the corners of his eyes.

He knew the solution. He just really didn’t want to grab his damn glasses.

It wasn’t even about comfort—they just made him look nerdy, and not in a cool, hot-guy-who-reads way, but in an I’m-an-insufferable-know-it-all way. Not a look he was going for.

Still, his ears flicked back, half-pinned against his head as he tried to ignore the way his vision kept going fuzzy around the edges.

This was fine. Totally fine.

He just had to hold out a little longer.

S7en blinked hard, rubbing at his temple with the heel of his hand as the dull ache behind his eyes slowly tightened its grip. His brightly lit screen wasn’t helping. The artificial glow pressed against his already blurry vision, and he caught himself squinting just to make out the text at the bottom of the screen. His ears twitched, then flicked backward slightly in irritation.

Still, he kept his usual energy up.

“Well, this guy’s an idiot,” he quipped as his in-game character opened a door that was very obviously a trap. “Yeah, lemme just step into the most ominous room possible, what could possibly go wrong—OH okay, yep, cool, immediate ghost attack. Love that.”

Chat scrolled fast, a mix of reactions ranging from LMAOOO to we tried to warn you to bro is squinting so hard right now, grab the damn glasses.

S7en ignored them.

He wasn’t even in that bad of shape, really. Sure, his throat felt like sandpaper and his nose was definitely trying to ruin his night, but he’d gotten through worse. He just needed to push through a little longer, keep the energy up, keep—

CLOUDHOPPER24: DUDE, hop on ESO, let’s run some dungeons.

S7en scoffed. “Yeah, no—”

STYXORRI: WAIT YES ESO TIME

VOIDGREMLIN: oh my god yes dungeon run let’s goooo

GHOSTBEE: don’t be lame get in nerd

[MOD] REXBURN: you’re outnumbered bro, just give in

S7en huffed, dragging a hand down his face before reluctantly exhaling through his nose. He already knew there was no getting out of this. The second chat got attached to an idea, they latched onto it like leeches.

"Fine,” he sighed, feigning great suffering as he exited his current game. “But if we’re playing ESO, I have to get my glasses or I’m not gonna be able to read shit.”

Chat didn’t seem to mind…

CATTITUDE69: GLASSES ARC LET’S GOOOOO

VOIDGREMLIN: nerdification incoming

STYXORRI: I REPEAT WE ARE ENTERING THE GLASSES ERA

He rolled his eyes but smirked slightly, peeling his headset off and pushing his chair back from the desk.

Before stepping away, he quickly pressed the mute button on his mic—at least, he thought he did.

His nose was still running. He sniffled thickly, pressing the heel of his palm against his septum before finally giving in and grabbing a tissue from the box on his desk. He tried to be discreet, turning away slightly as he blew his nose, but the sound was way thicker and wetter than he anticipated—loud, congested, a full-on mess.

And apparently, his sinuses were not ready to be cleared out all at once.

A maddening itch flared to life deep inside his nasal passages, raw and unrelenting. His breath caught, his chest stuttering through sharp, gasping build-ups as the sneeze took its time wrecking him.

“Hhh—! HhhAHH—! HAHDT’tchhhiew!! Hhh! AHHDT’tschhhiu!!"

The force rocked him forward, leaving him dazed for half a second before the itch surged right back up.

"Hhh! HAH—hhAHDT'shhiiew!!"

He sniffled hard, rubbing his nose roughly with his palm before finally slumping forward against the desk, exhaling sharply. God, that was miserable. But at least it was out.

Clearing his throat, he shook his head, grabbed his glasses from the shelf, and finally slid back into his chair. He adjusted the frames on his nose, pressed the power button on the monitor—

—and was immediately greeted by absolute chaos in the chat.

S7en’s brain took a solid three seconds to process what he was looking at.

The chat was moving so fast it was practically a blur. His orange ears twitched, then pressed flat against his head as he stiffened in realization.

CLOUDHOPPER24: BROOO WE HEARD ALL OF THAT

VOIDGREMLIN: THAT WAS UNHOLY

GHOSTBEE: unmute challenge (failed)

[MOD] REXBURN: you absolute dumbass.

CATTITUDE69: I THOUGHT HE WAS GONNA DIE FOR A SECOND LMAOOO

STYXORRI: new ringtone just dropped

S7en blinked.

“…What?”

That was all he could manage.

VOIDGREMLIN: LMAOOOO HE DOESN’T KNOW

STYXORRI: MY GUY. MY DUDE. YOU LEFT YOUR MIC ON.

GHOSTBEE: THE WHOLE THING. LIVE. UNFILTERED. IN HD.

[MOD] REXBURN: chat has been enlightened by the ancient knowledge of your waifu-esque sneezes.

S7en paled. His hand shot up to check his mic settings, only for his stomach to drop when he saw it. The mute button was still unpressed.

No.No. No. No.

Slowly, he turned his gaze back to chat, his tail flicking erratically behind him.

“…You guys heard that?…”

STYXORRI: YUP.

CLOUDHOPPER24: EVERY SINGLE SECOND.

VOIDGREMLIN: including the part where you DIED midway through the buildup

CATTITUDE69: top ten tragic anime deaths

GHOSTBEE: bro got done in by his own sinuses

[MOD] REXBURN: bro you took, like, a FULL ten seconds to die

S7en groaned, dragging his hands down his face. “Oh, my god.”

He was never going to live this down.

His head thunked against the desk in pure, unfiltered misery. “This is literally the worst day of my life,” he muttered into the woodgrain, voice muffled.

STYXORRI: no, this is the best day of OUR lives

VOIDGREMLIN: actual best content we’ve ever gotten from you, 10/10

CATTITUDE69: sneeze tier list when

GHOSTBEE: top ten streams that changed history

S7en groaned again, lifting his head just enough to glare at his screen. His nose twitched, still red and visibly irritated.

“You’re all the worst,” he sniffled, rubbing his knuckles under his nose as he slumped back in his chair. “Swear to god, I could die on stream and you’d just clip it.”

[MOD] REXBURN: correct.

CLOUDHOPPER24: exactly. that’s what the clip button is for.

STYXORRI: ‘local streamer perishes in real time, audience eats popcorn’

VOIDGREMLIN: ‘thoughts and prayers (clipped for later)’

S7en huffed, shaking his head as he reached for his controller, ears still half-flattened in lingering embarrassment. “Remind me why I stream, again?” he grumbled, clicking through the ESO title screen.

But even as chat continued to roast him mercilessly, he couldn’t quite stop the tiny, amused smirk that tugged at the corner of his lips.

S7en settled into his chair, rolling his shoulders back in an attempt to shake off the stiffness creeping into his muscles. The chat scrolled rapidly beside him, a chaotic mix of mocking comments, dramatic sympathy, and the occasional unsolicited health advice. He skimmed over it absently, only half-registering the words as he adjusted his headset.

“Alright, alright, let’s get this over with,” he muttered, loading into the game. His voice was rougher now, a rasping undertone slipping in that hadn’t been there at the start of the stream. He cleared his throat sharply, but it only aggravated the scratchiness, sending a brief, irritated shudder down his spine.

The dungeon queue popped, and as the loading screen flickered, he exhaled slowly through his nose, trying to steady himself. It didn’t help. His sinuses were a mess of static, an unbearable, crawling sensation burrowing deep behind his septum. He pressed his tongue against the roof of his mouth, willing the feeling away, but it only grew stronger, teasing at the edges of his control.

The dungeon started, and S7en forced himself to refocus. He tightened his grip on the controller and sent his character charging into battle—only to immediately regret it. His timing was off. His dodges felt sluggish. His fingers barely seemed to respond to his brain’s commands. He sniffled sharply, but even that felt like it took effort.

This was fine.

He could push through.

Except—he was already pushing too hard. And his body? It was beginning to push back.

His fingers fumbled over the controls, barely registering the vibrations in the controller as his character staggered from another mistimed dodge. The edges of his vision blurred slightly, the bright colors of the game screen bleeding together, making it harder to track what was happening. The chat continued to roll, but he could only make out scattered words between the rising noise in his head—something about him playing like shit, a few half-serious “get well soon” messages, and Rexar demanding he take a damn break.

S7en ignored them.

Or, at least, he tried to.

The static in his sinuses had evolved into something sharper, a deep, pulsing itch winding its way from the bridge of his nose down into his throat, clawing at his lungs. He sucked in a careful breath through his mouth, but it only made the irritation worse, sending a raw prickle skittering down his airways. His ears twitched in frustration before flattening again, his tail curling tightly against the back of his chair.

“hHh—! hh—! HAHHDT’tchhIEEW!!”

The sneeze tore through him without warning, snapping him forward so fast his headphones nearly slipped from his head. He barely had time to catch his breath before another struck—"HhHAPTT’tchhiEW!!"—leaving him dazed, blinking against the sudden dampness in his eyes.

A quick glance at chat told him all he needed to know. They were already losing their minds.

“Dude, shut up,” he croaked, scrubbing a sleeve under his nose before sniffing sharply, only to regret it immediately when his breath hitched again. He groaned, dropping his forehead against the edge of his desk, gripping the controller weakly in one hand.

This was bad.

His head was thick with congestion, the weight of exhaustion settling into his limbs like lead. Every movement felt sluggish, every blink heavier than the last. He sniffled again, but it barely did anything, his sinuses clogged beyond saving.

S7en was losing it.

Not just in the game—though, yeah, that too—but in general.

His entire body felt like it was made of damp cement, each movement slower than the last. His reactions were sluggish, his dodges mistimed, his attacks weak. He knew he should have been moving—ESO dungeon bosses weren’t that hard—but every time he tried to focus, his head swam, a dull, pulsing ache pressing against the backs of his eyes like someone had wedged cotton into his skull.

His ears remained half-down, twitching every so often when the congestion shifted in his sinuses. He was hyper-aware of everything—the scratchy dryness spreading through his throat, the constant, prickling tickle that bloomed behind his nose and refused to either build or dissipate, the way his nostril chain swayed whenever he sniffled, brushing against the irritated skin of his nose and making everything so much worse—

He was also hyper-aware of chat absolutely clowning on him for standing in yet another AoE.

VOIDGREMLIN: bro. MOVE.

STYXORRI: S7EN. YOU ARE LITERALLY DYING.

CLOUDHOPPER24: I’ve never seen someone eat this much damage in my life.

GHOSTBEE: watching him tank this boss like he’s a healer main is making me sweat.

[MOD] REXBURN: you are getting bullied in a video game. please pull it together.

S7en sniffled, slumping forward slightly in his chair as his character hit the floor again. His hand lifted sluggishly, rubbing at his pink-rimmed nostrils with the back of his hand before his tail flicked in frustration.

“Tch… shut the fuck up, you all suck so much dick it’s not even funny.” he muttered, voice rough and hoarse. He cleared his throat again, trying to chase away the itch, but all that did was send him into a brief fit of unproductive, breathless coughs.

The chat immediately jumped on him.

CATTITUDE69: nuh UH what was that.

VOIDGREMLIN: ?? HELLO??

STYXORRI: sir. sir you are literally dying live on air.

[MOD] REXBURN: LOG OFF.

S7en ignored them, waving a lazy hand at the screen as he tried—and failed—to get his character back to the fight in time. His vision blurred slightly, and he blinked hard, trying to refocus, but it only made his sinuses throb. His breathing was getting shallower, his chest starting to ache in a way he really didn’t want to think about.

Then, just as the dungeon boss was finally, finally defeated, his entire world was shaken—literally—by the front door slamming open.

“Yo, I’m home—what the fuck are you still doing awake?”

S7en physically cringed.

His fluffy orange ears pinned flat against his skull as he slowly turned his head, as if that would somehow make him seem less guilty.

Elex stood in the doorway, arms crossed, staring him down like he was a parent catching their kid sneaking an energy drink at 2 AM. His dark green brows furrowed slightly, his mismatched eyes scanning him for a second before narrowing further.

S7en knew that look.

That was the you look like shit look.

He groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “Calm down, I’b—hh—! hhHAHPT’tSCHHhhuue!!!!”

The sneeze absolutely wrecked him. His already weak frame pitched forward with the force of it, his headset nearly slipping off as he ducked down into his sleeve. His breath barely had time to hitch before another one overtook him.

“hH! HAHDT’tschhhiuuue!!”

The second left him dazed. He sniffled thickly, blinking blearily as his ears drooped even lower.

Elex just stared.

“…Uh huh. Yeah. No. You’re done,” he announced, marching over without hesitation.

“Dude, I’b fide—“

“You’re not fine.” Elex cut him off, reaching around him and—without a second thought—closed the game.

S7en gawked. “EXCUSE ME—”

Chat, meanwhile, lost their minds.

STYXORRI: EL EX JUST STRAIGHT UP LOGGED HIM OUT LMAOOOO

VOIDGREMLIN: nah bc that’s actually so funny

[MOD] REXBURN: thank fuck, finally.

CLOUDHOPPER24: you have been evicted from the internet.

Elex turned to the screen, squinting at the chat before promptly leaning in and—click—ending the stream entirely.

S7en could only sit there, stunned.

“…Okay, rude.” He sniffled, rubbing his nose against his sleeve again. His voice was wrecked, all rough edges and stuffy vowels.

Elex huffed, eyes still sharp but softening just slightly as he took in the way S7en’s ears stayed pinned, how his shoulders drooped with exhaustion, how his breaths were already starting to wheeze.

“…How bad is it?” he asked, quieter this time.

S7en hesitated.

And for the first time that night, he didn’t have the energy to lie.

“…Bad.”

The end~

[lavender-rroses]

//JRWI RIPTIDE SPOILERS

squeezing some designs out before it all goes to shit

(individuals + initial sketch under the cut)

i have so much brain rot they are taking over my every waking hour

the best thing about these designs is that they will never be consistent i draw them differently each time but i just wanted to do this for fun

also whyyy is it so low quality oops

[thegreatyin]

How did you manage to handle not one, but FOUR separate accounts in fl? I recently made the account for my HD little guy but having to do the tutorial again just seems miserable

there's... weirdly several answers to that question, actually??

a HUGE part of it is due to the way FL is structured. the 10-minute action timer is a core part of the game on a fundamental level, and the fact that i can very easily run out of stuff to do on one character and thus have an excuse to quickly and easily swap to another is just... convenient? satisfying? i'm not entirely sure how to explain it. the fact that i can make progress even while i am fundamentally simultaneously Not Making Progress is like pure dopamine for my freak insane awful little brain. there's just something really pleasing about spending all of my actions pursuing The Goal Of The Day™ on one account before casually swapping to another and doing the same without feeling like i'm wasting time or acting to the first account's explicit detriment. the downtime helps! the recharge time helps! the structure really really works!!

i'm technically only actively playing three, maybe two accounts minimum. the only reason the fourth (the one that'll be my future BaL playthrough) currently exists at all is so i can get his earlygame completely out of the way now and not have to waste time running through it all later, when what i actually want to do is play the ambition i've made myself wait a full year to play. and also getting free goodies as seasonal stuff happens,, something something surprise tools to help us later. the only two accounts i'd say i'm really "actively playing" at the moment are caeru and lark- and of the two, lark takes the most priority, since his ambition is the one i'm currently pursuing in earnest. for a couple months now- despite being My Main FL Character- the scoundrel has actually been pretty inactive on a gameplay front outside of the occasional progression in TLC and discordance content. purely by virtue of having Very little left to do outside of Very long-term grinds and vanities. they're in their "now what?" "now you can start playing the game" era. they've graduated to previous protagonist background cameo in a sequel anime series. they're like the yin FLPC equivalent of red at the top of mount silver. they're Literally just vibing rn. i only keep posting about them regardless because i'm insane and i will never ever ever ever ever let that bat go. but yeah, big TLDR, outside of doing the bare minimum to keep making waves/notability up every week, i'm not actually spending that much time on accounts i'm not currently actively interested in playing. and that accounts for way more gaming spoons than you might think.

i have a virtually lifelong history of playing MMOs, especially and specifically world of warcraft. i was born in the endless grind for useless video game pixel vanities and/or bragging rights. molded by it. you all have merely adapted to doing the same piece of content a pointlessly excessive amount of times for literally no reason besides whimsy and folly. me? i've done my time. i've served my sentence. i've spent weeks doing the original burning crusade netherwing dailies. i've devoted days to running praetorium over and over and over again, back-to-back, nonstop, long before square enix cut it in half and made it NOT take at minimum an hour and a half per run. i've perfected my silverwastes + auric basin goldfarming strategies. i've (almost) crafted dragonwrath tarecgosa's rest. i've killed the sha of anger so many times its dying scream of agony is embedded into the very fabric of my being. ""only"" doing making your name content four times over? that is nothing to me. it means nothing to me. it is so infinitesimal i can do the persuasive seduction quests in my sleep. it's not a matter of handling misery, or having the capacity, or even sighing as i remember the brass embassy raid segment of the watchful questline seriously i don't know why i keep forgetting that exists or what even is my problem with it i just am so consistently mildly inconvenienced by it and its highly specific resource requirements and it is the worst thing ever. maybe i'm just so used to the scoundrel's near-infinite money and troves of disposable items that i've completely forgotten what being poor is like. despite having done that step 3 fucking times now. ahem. anyway. i have transcended the feeble mortal bindings of my resistant-to-grinding flesh and ascended to a higher plane of enlightenment, they may call me insane but they will be the ones left laughing when they see what that "insanity" has wrought, i've usurped them, i've usurped them all-

hacks and coughs and awkwardly clears my throat. i mean. uh. um. Ahem.

the empress' court artistry + tales of the university nerfs helped too.

[mars-ipan]

some postgame doodles for pride month

[autumnrory]

i rmr when all the initial meta around endgame was coming out people were talking about steve being depressed and whatnot and it's like well yeah but he's BEEN depressed, like he woke up alone in this century and he kept going, now i can understand it being worse this time after finding a family and getting bucky back and losing them all except of course that's not why endgame steve was on about so like......the people writing meta were trying to connect these things that of course weren't really there on screen because that simply wasn't our steve

but i think it really could've been SO interesting to see this is the thing that finally makes steve stay down like he's lost so much and he just CAN'T keep fighting like i get some people think that's what they were going for but considering the ending......it's really not. and so i'm just thinking about a version after iw, maybe he gets some of the thor treatment except not turning his depression into a dumb fatphobic joke lol and maybe nat and others are trying to get through to him and it just doesn't work and then we get some flashbacks (which you could have done for all the original avengers actually which would be particularly important for bruce and nat and clint who did not have their own trilogies) including his mom telling him "you always stand up" and THAT being the thing to finally get him moving like it would've been such a perfect way to finally show sarah rogers some respect and ACTUALLY show steve really struggling instead of whatever they tried to do with him in that movie

[midnightwind]

I love Dragon Age companion quests, but sometimes I wish we had more that didn't culminate in fighting a Big Personal Bad, you know

[unproduciblesmackdown]

fun connection on this archived kickstarter update from the 2011 production/s of "the bus" as found by @broadway-heere-i-come ft. many pics from their trip to wichita, kansas for several performances there, including this one

fantastic stuff & was noticing that it seems like partly legible lyrics back there, which sent me over to consult that q&a sincerely me vlog again like hang on lol. and sure enough

lo, behold

[tardis--dreams]

Some of those doctors make hating oat milk their entire personality. I hate them. Cannot pretend to find them funny or like i give a shit. Fucking pretentious assholes

[spring-lxcked]

mild spoilers in tags but i'm just mad i don't write any actual security bre.ach muses now and i think i need to change that fuck

[nomaishuttle]

i literally have completionist brain but for real life and like. not a fun way for me to play games Definitely not a fun way for me to live irl

[tellie-vision-art]

Wanting more Priyaxel content but also knowing if I want it that badly I will have to make it myself bc it feels like no one actively ships it/makes content for it anymore 😭

I feel like a loser here in my corner hyped up over something no one else cares about and I’m kinda embarrassed about it 😩 like I have thoroughly convinced myself now that I am dumb for shipping it bc no one sees it like I do and people are perceiving me as weird and overdramatic about it 😔

[marciliedonato]

Currently fighting with someone in the pmore SA/LatAm tour post comment section bc apparently the UK is all of Europe and ppl from Europe don't get to ask to have a good time bc bri'ish people only think abt themselves and as long as they get what *they* want that's all that matters I guess 💁🏼‍♀️ woe is me 🙄🙄