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tboybuck · 1 year

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here, have a little modern steddie meet-cute. meet-ugly, maybe? idk. 1k words, mostly dialogue

"uber for, uh," the guy in the beemer at the curb looks at the phone in his hand, "eddie m.?"

"hey, that's my name!" eddie shouts, stumbling toward the car. the world is tipping sideways a little, but it's been a good night.

he wrenches open the passenger side door and slides in.

"cool if i sit up front, man? i get motion sickness sitting in the back, and you would not like me when i'm motion sick."

"uh, sure?"

eddie pulls the door closed behind him and says, "so what's your name, pretty boy?"

"you don't check the app before getting into some random guy's car?" the guy asks with a huff.

"oh, no, i never order these things for myself." eddie laughs. he tries to think back, remember how many jameson shots he put back tonight. can't. oh, well. "my roommate always sets it up beforehand when i come down to the styx for a show."

"a show? like a concert?"

"uh, no. drag show. styx is a gay bar." the guy's quiet at that. "that a problem? still dunno your name."

"oh. steve," the guy - steve - says shortly. "no, it just... looks more like a... metal bar, or something."

"sometimes things are both, can you believe it! they do a drag show last wednesday of every month. good show tonight, all the girls looked great." he kicks his feet up on the dashboard of the car, watches steve's eyes cut sideways at them as he does. "do you like drag shows, steve?"

he's testing the waters, feeling steve out to see if he should be worried about getting into some random guy's car outisde a gay bar with a dead phone. eddie's definitely had a little too much tonight. he's probably got glitter in his hair. there's definitely black lipstick smeared across his cheek from when allison chaynz planted one on him earlier during her set.

"only been to a few, but yeah. they're a good time. good show."

safe, then. tentatively.

eddie studies steve for a moment, trying to figure him out. he's got this thing he does sometimes, in an uber; eddie's an easy read - he gets into an uber and the driver immediately flips their spotify over to a metal playlist.

the driver's are usually easy to read too, and it's eddie's favorite game; he tends to know when he's got a country boy behind the wheel, or an emo transplant from the mid aughts, or the indie girlies with their iced coffees and perpetual dark undereye circles that all the concealer in the world can't hide.

the guy looks like he wears teenage boy deodorant and smells like repressed trauma. he has the indie girlie dark circles under his eyes, an apple watch strapped to his wrist. rich boy. drives a beemer. good hair, stupid highlights. there's a tube of burt's bees cherry lip balm in the center console and a days old energy drink in the cupholder.

"hmmm, the front bottoms," he decides at last, after staring at steve for what must have been an uncomfortably long time.

"i'm sorry?"

"i said, the front bottoms."

"is that a... what's the word... a euphemism?"

"no, steeeeve. it's a band. check 'em out sometime, your daddy issues'll thank you. do you like music, steve?"

"sure."

eddie clicks his tongue. "smells like bullshit. no one who likes music says sure when someone asks if they like music."

they're stopped at a stoplight. from behind the wheel, steve is studying him right back, looking him up and down, his gaze coming to rest once again on eddie's shoes on the dash.

"get your feet down," steve says, pushing at eddie's shins. "do you have any idea how dangerous that is?"

"fine, fine. so if you don't listen to music, steve, what do you listen to in this fancy bmw?"

"sports, mostly," steve shrugs. "podcasts sometimes."

"oh, boy, you are a walking red flag, aren't you? shame you're so pretty."

"well what about you? what do you listen to?"

"guess."

"i dunno, probably that metal shit. five finger whatever, or something."

eddie presses his hand to his chest. "five finger - oh, stevie, i am wounded. i wouldn't be caught dead listening to bro rock."

out of the corner of his eye, he definitely catches a smile from steve.

steve holds an aux cable out to him. "here, then. wow me. show me some real metal or whatever."

"god, i'd love to take you up on that," eddie says, huffing out a little laugh. he holds his phone up. "this sucker's been dead for hours."

this time steve's the one to click his tongue. "shame."

"truly. so what's your story, steven? what's got you out at three in the morning?"

"it's my night off," steve shrugs. "just started night shift at the hospital, trying to get used to the new sleep schedule."

"mmm, the hospital. you a nurse?"

"i am. trauma nurse."

"nice. ever see any gnarly injuries?"

"had a pretty fucked up dog bite come in the other night."

"shit."

"yeah." another stoplight, another unsubtle once over from steve. "so what about you? what do you do?"

"line cook."

steve's eyes linger on him a little longer than necessary. "oh, but i'm the walking red flag. got it."

"whoa," eddie laughs. "what's that supposed to mean?"

"i've dated line cooks. everyone's dated a line cook."

"sounds like something a slut would say, steve. craziest dick you've ever had, huh?"

"mmm."

it's not a denial.

they're getting close to eddie's building now, and that's an actual shame. because steve's cute. he needs a haircut maybe, and the stubble around his mouth and chin is just on the wrong side of five o'clock shadow, but he's got these distracting little moles along his face and neck and arm that eddie's been itching to play connect the dots with since he got in the car.

"wait, i know this building," steve says as he slows at the curb and looks at the address on his phone again. "my roommate's girlfriend lives in this building."

it clicks into place, then, for eddie.

"oh, shit! you're robin's steve!"

steve's eyebrows draw together as he gapes at eddie, and then his eyes go wide with realization. "chrissy's ed?"

"eddie," he corrects. "gotta be a level twenty friend to call me ed. and chrissy's the only level twenty friend i'll ever have."

"noted. good to finally meet you, man. i, uh. i guess this is you, then, huh?"

"yeah, sure is. maybe i'll see ya around." eddie goes to get out of the car.

"oh, you will," steve says, his smile lopsided and goofy. "i'll make sure of it."

"hold ya to it," eddie promises with a wink.

steve wiggles his fingers in a flirtatious wave as eddie walks backward on the sidewalk toward his building.

so robin's steve is cute. maybe he should have been letting chrissy set them up this whole time.

still. sports and podcasts. guy's a walking red flag. who knows, maybe they're green. eddie's never been able to see the difference anyway.

#steddie #steddie fic #bee's blurbs #idk what this is honestly #it came to me in a vision #buckingham #if you squint

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r0-boat · 6 days

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WHB Kings with audio accounts

Back on my audio account bullshit

Cw: NSFW, mentions of darker content but not specific, whb is its own trigger warning lol, but also some silly things (My bad a lot of silly things)

Satan

"boyfriend beats you over the head with a metal pipe till you fall asleep.♥️" "Killing you sexually then killing you again"

His account is not serious. And the funny thing is that some devils would actually listen to it while they fall asleep.

The only other thing he posts seriously is ramble faps. His mic is god-awful You don't even know how these people listen to this shit but he's actually proud of the work he does. His favorite thing to do is making his own sound effects All his sound effects are 100% made by him 'organically grown' as he calls it. And by listening some of these audios you are terrified and don't want to ask what he has done.

Surprisingly he is really good at acting... As soon as he gets a better Mic his stuff somehow gets infinitely better.

Mammon

He firmly believes that humans and devils have a fantasy of wanting to be owned and he is there to fulfill that fantasy because he does in fact own everyone. Majority of his contents is some kind of script where he owns you in some way. All pictures provided to his audios are real pictures taken by a professional photographer. Some even have motherfucking animation.

And just a low low price of $2,000 a month you can access this content (Bimet's fault) But don't worry he sells each individual audio for hundreds of dollars. He considers this cheap.

He's one of the biggest audio accounts on the platform. Having one of his audios is considered a luxury, You're getting your money's worth from the ambience to the voice acting to how often he posts Oh boy. Each audio is an hour of content all good story like a damn movie.

His audios are far more than just smut They are works of art in his eyes. And those "works of art"are probably sold in the Tartaros Black market.

Leviathan

The only normal one. Hard to believe, But if he wants to do something he wants to do it right. He wants to blow out the competition stealing other ideas and making them better in his eyes.

He only started doing this because he caught you listening to some devil you found making a boyfriend audio and he was jealous. The only voice you should be listening to is his! He starts actually liking it however because people praise him for his beautiful voice and moans.

His audios have a lot of degrading a lot of roleplay fantasy where he is of course everything he wants to be. However a lot of his content are heavily influenced by you.

You talk about a singer you liked? Is next audio is a role play where he is a singer and you are his groupie. An anime character from that specific game? He will research the game make his own character based on himself and put himself in it for an audio!

Beelzebub

He has two types of audio. Food mukbangs is one of them. However the other type is Pure sin. A Beel audio can pleasure you just as much as he can in person.

Filled with dark content because he's fulfilling his darker desires desires he can't really fulfill with you because you are a human. But in these little fantasies he can do whatever he wants and imagine anyone he wants.

He does not add sound effects but his voice alone is sinful enough to get you wanting more. He will become too powerful if he starts adding fuck noises.

His mukbangs are just him eating different here He eats food with another devil and they talk kind of like a podcast.

Lucifer

Lucifer's audios are almost entirely dominant. He has a growing user base that wants to see him whimper and he does not want to feed them.

A lot of Lucifer's content stems from religious trauma corruption kink kinda stuff. Corrupted priest, to him as an incubus corrupting you.

He does have softer content He tries to keep NSFW and sfw equal numbered, and that content rages from weddings to honeymoon to first dates anything sweet enough to melt your soul.

He prioritizes telling a story more than anything else

#whb #wihib #what in hell is bad #enjoy nonetheless it's not as good as my other ones #I wanted to do this but it didn't fit with this particular fandom but I did it anyway #whb headcanons

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buckys-metal-arm · 1 month

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A Work of Art

Bucky x Artist!GN!Reader

Description: when Bucky is feeling Self-conscious about his scars, you decide to do something that shows him how you see his body

Warnings: fluff with a little hint of angst, self conscious!Bucky, established relationship, Soft!Bucky, not beta'd, rushed writing

A/N: this is a quick one, the idea came to me while waiting for a doctor's appointment and needed to write it down. I love the idea, I'm not sure how I feel about the writing of it, but I hope you enjoy!

((18+ only below the cut please and thank you!!))

It starts late at night, when you're getting ready to lay down with your boyfriend

Bucky settled down beside you, and you went to wrap your arms around him, hugging him from behind and pressing a kiss to his cheek

You went to slip your hand under his shirt to rub his stomach, something you know he loves, but Bucky flinches away from you.

“What's wrong, Sweetheart?” You asked gently, “are you alright?”

He shrugged, rolling over so that he was facing you

“Jus’ having a rough time with…everything,” he murmured, “with the scars.”

You nodded, not wanting to push him

Bucky got like this sometimes. When he was deep in his own head and his depression got the best of him, he'd suddenly become hyper-aware of the scars on his skin, of the permanent reminders of the abuse that he had endured.

When he got like this he would shy away from everyone's touch, even yours, convinced that no one could truly accept and love him as he was

“Bucky…” you whispered, cupping his face, “Sweetheart…”

“You don't have to act like you like them,” he cut you off, “they're disgusting. I know that. You don't have to lie to me, Doll. I know.”

“It's not lying, Buck,” you brushed your thumb over his cheekbone, stroking the scar that ran there, “I mean it. Your scars show how brave you are. They're a part of you. And I love you. Every part of you.”

He'd hummed, eventually letting you hold him and rub his back, but you could tell he still didn't believe it.

It broke your heart, not knowing how to make him see that you thought he was perfect.

The idea came to you while you were working on commissions one day, a few months out from yours and Bucky’s anniversary

You were working on your commissions and listening to a crafting podcast, when the idea hit you for his anniversary present.

If he wasn't going to believe you when you told him he was beautiful, then maybe you could show him

You didn't need a reference photo, you knew his body so well you could do it from memory

It was difficult to find time to work on it between commissions and having to quickly hide it away when Bucky came home, but you manage to get it done a few days before the big day

In no small part because Bucky was out on a week long mission and wasn't home so you had time to work on it

Cut to the big night, it's after Bucky cooked you a very nice dinner

You were seated on the couch, admiring the way his dog tags looked around your neck (his present to you), waiting for him to finish the dishes

He'd shooed you off when you tried to help him because “it's your night Doll, you're not lifting a finger”

You'd tried to argue that it was both of your anniversary, but he'd insisted

When he finally sat down you pushed the wrapped present into his hands, smiling widely

“Go on, open it!” You exclaimed.

He chuckled at your excitement, his eyes widening when he saw your gift It was one of your embroidery projects, mounted on wood and framed by the hoop.

On it is his body from the waist up, front and back, carefully recreated

Each of his scars satin stitched on with gold thread and expert precision.

It reminded him of the art exhibition you and him had attended when you'd first started dating, showing pottery that had been repaired with flakes of gold. his metal arm was lovingly recreated with perfect accuracy down to each of the golden veins that run through it

Underneath it, carefully cross-stitched in Navy blue are the words “EVERY INCH OF YOU IS A WORK OF ART”

Bucky stared at the piece with wide eyes, his jaw slack.

His silence was making you nervous.

Did you overstep a boundary? Did he think that you were putting his insecurities on blast?

You placed a hand on his leg when you saw his eyes filling with tears, stroking your thumb along it

“Oh, Bucky,” you cooed, “I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make you feel bad, I just wanted you to see yourself how I see you–”

He enveloped you in a bone-crushing hug, pulling you to his chest.

You were shocked, to say the least, but wrapped your arms around him, hugging back and running a hand through his hair

He held you tight for a moment more before pulling back

“I-I’m not… you didn't make me feel bad,” you reached up to thumb the tears that had fallen down his cheek, “these are good tears. I… I love it, Doll. It's beautiful.”

“I'm glad you think it's beautiful. I wanted you to get a glimpse into how I see you,” you pressed your lips against his, “you’re beautiful, Bucky.”

He pulled you into a deep kiss, gentle and full of love

One gesture like this wasn't enough to destroy the demons in his mind, he knew that.

But now, running his fingers along the stitches, your loving, careful, incredible recreation of his body?

Maybe he can start to see himself the way you do.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes x reader #buckybarnes #bucky x reader #james buchanan barnes #james bucky barnes #bucky barnes headcanon

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moss-wood · 4 months

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i was doing some research into the royal mint court, which is where the OIAR offices are located, and which was also built by robert smirke

in addition to pressing coins, this mint also served as a gold refinery, in which gold was completely purified into bullion (metal refined to extremely high elemental purity)

now, this is where i have the potential to be completely off base, but given the many reoccurring references and use of alchemy and alchemical symbols/themes, i don’t think this is too far-fetched.

one of the three main goals and aspirations within alchemy is the transmutation of metals, particularly lead into gold. the other two are to create an elixir of eternal youth/health, and to create the philosopher’s stone (which was an item supposedly with the power to grant the user both of these things).

there is certainly much to delve into there, but that is for another post. for now i will focus my thoughts around the transmutation of metals into gold.

we have already heard many statements which focus on transformation, so this theme is already quite prevalent within our minds.

there has been less explicit mention of alchemy outside of daria’s statement (in reference to ink5oul) and the symbols on the OIAR logo. it was a very important element in the ARG (of undetermined canonical status, but likely to be relevant at the very least) which i am choosing to treat as if it is canonically relevant, if not entirely canon. for the sake of this post, though, i will just focus on what is in the podcast so far.

now, to go on a bit of a tangent:

the symbols within the OIAR logo are the symbols for salt and mercury, and the logo itself is the symbol for the philosopher’s stone turned upside down (inverted?).

salt and mercury are two of the three primes within alchemy, representing body and mind, respectively. salt is often seen in alchemy as a material that is found impure and then purified by human hands(themes of transformation). mercury, due to its common liquid state, was thought to be able to shift between life and death and represented the ability to transcend death (themes of immortality).

i am less certain on the significance of the symbol for the philosopher’s stone being inverted, but i doubt it was simply a meaningless design choice, especially when considering the significance of tma’s logo design. at this point in time, i would infer that it is possibly representative of a goal to reverse the effects of such a stone, like an anti-philosopher’s stone. however, i have a hard time deciphering a motive for such a thing. my only thought hinges on the accuracy of the theories about JMJ in which jonah, jon, and martin are (trapped) in the computer (possibly an immortal state, yet undesirable?) and also possibly being amalgamated together, unable to be separated (wishing to reverse this transformation). i will investigate this further.

-end tangent

i believe the transmutation of gold is also a significant idea here. gold itself is representative of perfection within alchemy, and is an incredibly significant element of the practice. i also think it is interesting to note that the sun and the heart are associated with gold as well in alchemy, particularly when considering how averse the OIAR seems to be in regards to staff exposure to the sun. their staff work the night shift despite having a job that has no business occurring outside of the regular business hours, LEAST of all the night shift. in the latest episode (6), sam speaks about how he misses the sun and doesn’t want to shut it out entirely, while alice tells him that “the sun is the enemy”.

aside from isolating their employees to make them more susceptible victims, this could be another motive for such hours.

in addition, the alchemical symbol for gold is a circle with a dot in the center, which looks similar to an eye. with what we know of the significance of eyes in tma and eyes being specifically mentioned when they are maimed or removed in statements thus far (redcanary, violinist, needles, and possibly the horror junkie), this seems like it could also be an important detail. (perhaps the sun is a watchful eye??/hj)

i still need to ruminate and investigate further on these ideas, but i wanted to get my initial thoughts down and out while in the moment.

#tmagp #the magnus pod #the magnus protocol #tmagp speculation #tmagp theory #tmagp spoilers #tma #the magnus archives

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seeminglyranch87 · 6 months

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Taylor & Travis Timeline

December 2023 - part 1

December 1 - Taylor and Travis attend Christmas Party at a pop-up bar wearing matching Christmas sweaters featuring squirrels - or should we say "squirle"? IYKYK. (x) Kansas City

Twitter April 2011 - Travis

IG Halloween Oct. 2021 - Taylor

December 2 - Travis arrives ahead of Chiefs v Packers Game, Green Bay, WI

December 3 - Chiefs v Packers, Lambeau Field, Green Bay, Wisconsin. Defeated 19 - 27

Taylor attends the game bringing Brittany Mahomes & Lyndsay Bell with her on her jet. They return to KC immediately after the game.

December 5 - Taylor seen out for dinner with Jack Antonoff in NYC

December 6 - Taylor Swift is announced as TIME Person of the Year - 2023 (x) This is a brilliant article - go check it out!

Most recently, she’s been dating the NFL star Travis Kelce, as has been well documented when she attends his games. “I don’t know how they know what suite I’m in,” she says. “There’s a camera, like, a half-mile away, and you don’t know where it is, and you have no idea when the camera is putting you in the broadcast, so I don’t know if I’m being shown 17 times or once.” She is sensitive to the attention that’s put on her when she shows up. “I’m just there to support Travis,” she says. “I have no awareness of if I’m being shown too much and pissing off a few dads, Brads, and Chads.”

I point out that it’s a net positive for the NFL to have a few Swifties watching. “Football is awesome, it turns out,” Swift says playfully. “I’ve been missing out my whole life.” (A game she attended in October was the most-watched Sunday show since the Super Bowl.)

“This all started when Travis very adorably put me on blast on his podcast, which I thought was metal as hell,” she says. “We started hanging out right after that. So we actually had a significant amount of time that no one knew, which I’m grateful for, because we got to get to know each other. By the time I went to that first game, we were a couple. I think some people think that they saw our first date at that game? We would never be psychotic enough to hard launch a first date.” The larger point, for her, is that there’s nothing to hide. “When you say a relationship is public, that means I’m going to see him do what he loves, we’re showing up for each other, other people are there and we don’t care,” she says. “The opposite of that is you have to go to an extreme amount of effort to make sure no one knows that you’re seeing someone. And we’re just proud of each other.”

Taylor attends the premiere of "Poor Things" in support of friend Emma Stone, Rockefeller Center, NYC. Taylor sat with Laura Dern, Suki Waterhouse and Robert Pattinson

December 8 - Taylor seen out with Selena Gomez, Zöe Kravitz, Cara Delevingne, Anya Taylor-Joy in NYC

Go to December 2023 part 2

Return to the timeline

#squirle #squirrel #taylor swift #taylor and travis #travis kelce #87 and 89 #taylor swift and travis kelce #traylor #killatrav #seemingly ranch #timeline #87 + 13 = 100 #tayvis #taylor and travis timeline

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worldchampgameco · 4 months

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Hello Tumblr!

I am Adam Vass, I design, illustrate, and publish tabletop rpgs as World Champ Game Co. since 2016, including such absolute bangers as the stoner metal science fantasy Necronautilus, the wonderful cartoony halloween adventure Babes in the Wood, the scumbag retrofuture Cybermetal 2012 and many many more.

All of my games are available in print at my website:

With my best bud Will Jobst, I co-host the Brain Trust RPG podcast, where we talk design theory and philosophy almost every week. We even design full games on-air, including the award-winning This Discord Has Ghosts In It.

Going forward, I hope to use this space to tell you about my new projects, revisit some old ones, spout some theory, and bounce ideas off folks I meet here, let's goooo

#ttrpg design #indie ttrpg #ttrpg community #world champ game co #beggartok #art game

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iaminsideyourwalls · 1 year

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talk about Reactor please i want to know her🥺

she's a silly little guy. a rap scallion.

bkgd: she's from the Netherlands and worked in Friesland for the last years of her old career in a (fictional) nuclear power plant as a physicist. When the plant suffered a catastrophic meltdown she happened to be on duty right at the core and was exposed to such high amounts of radiation the recovery teams assumed there was no way she could have survived. Because this is a silly cartoonish tf2 universe, she did survive, with only minor ill effects. While the immediate area was evacuated and too radioactive to live in, she lived there alone for a decade until she was discovered by trespassers. Her only entertainment during those years was music and radio. She broadcast her own radio show that consisted of bad covers of her favorite songs and rambly theories about the state of the world she couldn't see. Her inexplicable resistance to radiation made her valuable to the team.

about her: her time alone made her inclined to talk to herself as well as objects and dolls as if they were real people. She's not used to talking at a normal volume anymore. She is comfortable being alone all the time but when she gets attached to someone she gets extremely attached and follows them around at all times like a duckling. She is highly obsessive, paranoid about the state of the world, and has very little concept of theft anymore considering she was free to take any objects in the abandoned highly irradiated ghost town. She considers all metal that isn't actively being used free scrap metal (she is banned from Engineer's workshop). She still broadcasts on the radio (average podcaster smh). it's dangerous to stand next to her for too long. Her room is lined with 2 inch lead panels and she wears disposable gloves duct taped on so she doesn't leave radioactive skin cells everywhere and keeps her hair up so she doesn't drop radioactive hairs. also, because she's cool and sexy, of course she's trans.

in game: my vague concept for her gameplay would be a little like playing Pyro for those who prefer support roles. Her goal is to irradiate the enemy team by blasting them with radioactive dust, by setting off nuclear explosions, or by letting them pick up radioactive items. I like the idea of irradiated enemy team members then contaminating the rest of their own team. It's also fun to come up with themed weapons, taunts and cosmetics she could have.

anyway yeah i like talking about my silly little guy! I didn't come up with a real name for her yet, thinking Irene but only maybe. I think it's fine to just go by her class name since the 9 mercs weren't even created with real names to begin with.

#I'm bad at coming up with well thought out info about ocs so I'm just improvising. how do people do this??#tf2 #tf2 fanart #tf2 art #team fortess 2 #team fortress 2 fanart #tf2 oc #tenth class #tenth class oc #10th class #10th class oc #tf2 10th class #tf2 reactor

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the-hydroxian-artblog · 6 months

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If Hanging Out continues, would Whisper and Tangle make an appearance? They're my favorite lesbians

Also I suggest you check out "What if Metal Sonic Turned Good?" by Pickled Dill Podcast, if you haven't already. It's really really good

The problem with Hangin Out in general is that it was/is an outlet for my brain to go feral and throw out something stupid that I always wanted from canon in some way but know in good faith couldn't actually happen or fit. But I don't have particularly divergent ideas or headcanons for those two. I love them, but if I had any reason to throw em in, they'd likely just.. Match their IDW depictions, with some exceptions to account for the 7+ year continuity.

...You know, something that stuck out to me was the fact that Whisper being one to.. whisper, was framed as a consequence of her trauma and changed demeanor. Like, she was more upbeat before Mimic came along and acted like shithead. While I think it makes sense and trauma isn't something that you'd just get over in a few weeks, I feel as though 7+ years of interacting with Tangle and other folk means she'd probably have more time to heal.

I don't wanna say she'd just revert, but the freaky wild crazy difference between Hangin Out!Whisper and canon Whisper would just be that she now talks at normal volume. Tangle likewise might be toned down a tiny bit from just the natural experience and age that comes with the timeskip-- until some exciting adventuring prospect comes along, and she jumps right back into being energetic like her canon self. Maybe a little less reckless and more strategic in dealing with problems, but mostly the same.

As for the latter, I might check that out later!

#Whisper AU #Tangle AU

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berriweb · 1 year

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╰┈➤ ❝ GRAVEYARD SHIFT SHENANIGANS ❞

: ̗̀➛ ft. johnathan ohnn (the spot) x gn! reader

: ̗̀➛ warnings. y/n is strapped, johnny gives second hand embarrassment

: ̗̀➛ note. if you were the one getting robbed instead, i didn’t proof read this so if you saw a typo no you didn’t

only the restless and the crazies are awake at 3 am, and the only thing that those have in common are that they both have nothing better to do with their time. what does that make you?

The streets were quiet.

If you were lucky, every so often you’d hear the sounds of a car speeding down the road (likely well above the speed limit) or groups of people shouting and ranting while searching for a cab or an Uber after a long night at the bar across the street. It was rare, however, and you were more often than not left alone with your own thoughts to drown out the sounds of the fluorescent lights above you buzzing unnecessarily loud and the quiet pop songs playing on repeat from the speakers mounted in the ceilings.

Anyone else would run from the idea of being left in such a dull and lacking environment, but for you the nights spent sitting idly behind the counter waiting for the rare human interaction was necessary to keep your lights on and your ass out of the streets.

When you’d first heard the corner store was looking for a new employee to work the graveyard shift after the last worker quit due to a recent attack from a rouge villain that left him too paranoid to run the store alone, you were heavily against the idea despite your friend’s insistence that it was good money and she knew you needed it after hearing your previous complaints about your current job not being enough to cover both your bills and your meals. Knowing how prevalent crime could be, especially considering the part of town you lived in, who in their right mind would accept that job offer?

Luckily for you, you didn’t seem to be in your right mind. After a few convincing words and a quick interview with the grouchy owner of the store, you were welcomed with somewhat open arms and after two weeks of half assed training, you were successfully spending nearly all of your nights running the corner store after the sun went down.

Now it’s been two years, and as much as you love the security you feel knowing that you’re good at what you do, it can tend to get a bit boring on quiet nights.

You’d take the silence over the nights where you’d get visits from shady men coming in to withdraw a questionable amount of money and drug addicts who’d harass you for a few dollars to get a fix or were just completely off their rocker.

To make up for the lack of entertainment, you popped in an earbud and put on a podcast to drown out your thoughts, mindlessly flipping through the same magazines you’d been looking through for the last 4 hours of your shift. At some point celebrity drama had become more boring than the silence so you resulted to working on the puzzles and mind games on the back, so consumed in a sudoku game that you almost didn’t notice the sound of the scratching of metal and the small rusted bell jingling as the door to your store creaked open. As soon as it registered, you set the book down, sitting up, alert and ready as you eyed the new customer who had the pleasure of gaining your attention for the next few minutes they’d been in.

If there was one thing your shitty training had taught you it was to keep an eye out and be observant, more often than not the creeps came out at night and the last thing you wanted was to end up on the news with a bad id picture because you didn’t notice a man entering the store with a gun cocked and ready.

As a result, you’d gotten pretty good at profiling some of your customers and taking note of things that most people normally would pay no mind too. This man was no different.

Your alarms went off the moment he walked in, but you weren’t exactly sure which red flag set it off. Maybe it was the way he was dressed, in a big blue brown coat covering most of his upper half with the collar popped to hide his neck, topping it off with a brown bucket had covering most of his hat and what you thought were sunglasses. Maybe it was how you couldn’t tell what the glasses were due to his head being tilted down and his gaze locked on the floor and his own two feet. Or it could’ve been how you couldn’t get a good look at his bottom half aside from what you believed were black spotted white pants due to how quickly he scurried to the counter, his entire body tilting under your gaze as he seemed to be really shifty and refused to meet your eyes.

The only physical feature you could really make out about the person was that they were really, really pale and just from your angle you could tell he was a decently tall man.

“How can I help you?” Were the first words you chose to utter to him, trying to get an idea of what he wanted and why he seemed to be so nervous and fidgety, outlined by the way his hands messed with the hem of his coat.

“I- um,” he cleared his through, and you could sense the nervousness in his voice. His tone was light but held weight like he was hiding something or was guilty of something worse, “where is your restroom?”

What were the odds that he actually had to go? You’d had your fair share of people with the same mannerisms asking for the same thing and majority of the time they were using in the restroom, leaving you to pick up after the mess of tissue and needles, or worse, they’d leave behind, but something in your gut told you that wasn’t the case, and you couldn’t refuse him service based on a hunch.

Reaching behind you without taking your eyes off the man, you opened a drawer and pulled out a rusted keychain, clearing your throat and holding it out for him. “In the back, first door on your left, try not to make a mess,” you instructed and nodded your head towards the open corner in the back of the store.

With a small thank you, the unknown man quickly snatched the key from your grasp and made his way to the back with haste, though not without you notice the strange texture of his skin for the brief moment your fingers touched, and not without him eyeing the ATM machine he passed on his way back.

What was his deal?

A few minutes had gone by since he went to the back. You’d paused your podcast and sat silently, your gaze constantly shifting from the front doors to the back as you waited for him to reappear. Your negative attitude might have been uncalled for, he may have just been a regular guy who stopped at the first place that had an available bathroom, but you knew better than to be that hopefully. Moments later after you’d returned to your magazine, you heard a door open and footsteps, followed up by buttons clicking and pointed beeping noises. When you looked back, he was out and standing in front of the ATM, hesitantly pushing buttons.

You couldn’t tell if he was trying to make himself seem busy on the machine or was really anxious about pulling money. It could’ve been the case that he was taking out a lot for something that wasn’t exactly legal. Drugs, a sex worker maybe? It was none of your business, so long as he kept it out of your store.

You turned back to your magazine to avoid him noticing your constant staring, but about a minute later you perked up at the sound of a loud screech, silent curses and the sound of loud banging. Your senses heightened as you turned around again in your chair, and it took a moment to process the sight in front of you. The man had managed to climb on top of the machine, or at least that’s how you assumed he got up there, jumping up and down on the machine in a hurry. It was hard to piece together until you realized that the machine was now halfway through the ground, courtesy of a large black gaping hole that you were certain wasn’t there before. What the hell?

Your hand reached for the drawer under your register faster than you could process, being far too use to this drill. Your hands searched the drawer without your eyes leaving him before pushing it closed after discreetly pulling out your weapon. It wasn’t often that you needed the gun, but it’s better safe than sorry.

Quietly, you stood up from your chair and left from behind the counter, sneaking up on the man by tiptoeing through the aisles. Assuming he was a criminal, he wasn’t very good at keeping an eye out as he hadn’t noticed you creeping up on him from behind until you were mere feet away and turned off the safety, raising your arms with it pointed at his head. Unnecessary? Maybe, but you weren’t dumb enough I charge unarmed, not if he could be a serious threat.

“Freeze!” Yikes, maybe that was too officer-ey? Your tone was assertive, but your assumption that he could be a hero deflated and was thrown out the window as he reacted far too slow, turning around nearly jumping out of his (pants?), letting out a scream that could put a little girl at Disneyland to shame. His arms flailed and he lost his footing on the ATM, falling over only for another portal to open on the ground and swallowing him whole. He reappeared in a portal on the ceiling behind you and you jumped, turning around just in time to see him fall through, his torso hitting the top of a shelf and sending all of the condiments falling before he hit the ground. You couldn’t help but wince, that had to hurt, but kept your grip on the gun firm as he struggled to his feet.

Leaning against a display to pull himself off, he mistakenly put too much faith in the rickety stand and it toppled over, bags of snacks matching the other items scattered on the ground. He let out a groan of pain and when he stood, somewhat fully as he seemed to have bad posture, you watched the now broken sunglasses fall off of his face, or rather lack thereof, his hat falling to the ground.

He had no face. Where it should’ve been, there was a large, black gaping hole with no way to see anything inside. In fact, it wasn’t just his face, as you soon came to realize that he wasn’t wearing pants, those dots were his skin. He had no human distinguishable features, what you had assumed to be pale skin was actually paper white, decorated with black hopes all across his legs, seemingly his entire body. His coat still remained, but you were willing to bet that his torso was covered in the same holes as the rest of his body. If not for the humanoid figure, voice, and his clumsy personality you wouldn’t have known he was human, assuming he was.

“Wait wait wait! Please- pLEASE don’t shoot! I’m not dangerous I swear I’m a good guy, well I’m not because I’m robbing you but I’m not really robbing you-” as he seemed to start to ramble on, the confusion started contorting your face and he seemed to notice, laughing nervously with his hands still raised as he took a step back. “See, I’m not really a criminal but because I look like this now no one will hire me and I have to resort to robbing stores to support myself, you know?” As he spoke he attempted to shake an empty can that his foot lodged itself in, leaning down to pull it off while keeping a hand up which reminded you that you still held him at gun point.

While you were still only beginning to process what the hell was going on, you hypothesized that the more stressed or worked up he seemed to be, the more out of control his holes became, as the seemed to shift and swirl on his body more and more as he continued to rant. “I’m kind of like my own Robin Hood, you know the whole steal from the rich give to the poor? Except I kind of am the poor, at least I am now. I used to have a good job at Alchemax before they turned me into this, but I can thank Spider-Man for that too-” Alongside that, they popped up far more often, proven by how he suddenly toppled into another, emerging from the wall next to you and hitting the floor head first, wincing as he stood up, this time without the can, it instead falling from a different hole that appeared next to his head, hitting him square in the face before disappearing into another hole.

Without realized it, your arms slightly lowered and you resulted to watching the poor man’s sad attempts at controlling his mutation/power, finding it both pitiful and amusing. “But that’s besides the point! You really shouldn’t shoot me I swear I’ll be out of your hair, which looks great- by the way, as soon as I can I really don’t mean any harm!”

Pulling his arm out of a half closed hole, he suddenly straightened up, managing to stand in one place without being thrown around like a rag doll. Silence remained as you seemingly stood still and stared at him for what seemed like an eternity but was only a few seconds before you pursed your lips, looking down as a hand came up to your mouth to muffle the sounds.

“What- what are you doing?” He questioned you, and while there was no expression on his face you had a feeling he was looking at you with a puzzled look, only for his question to be answered when you suddenly doubled over, the muffled snicker turning into chuckles, which lead to giggles up until you were howling with laughter, hardly able to catch your breath. You left him standing there thinking you must’ve lost your mind. “Why are you laughing?!” You could only respond with more cackling, leaning against a wall and inhaling deeply to make up for the lack of air you could consume.

“What’s so funny?! This isn’t a joke!” He sounded both surprised and slightly offended, which you felt slightly bad for but given his methods you couldn’t help it, and by the time you started to calm down as he stupidly stood there, the pieces seemed to finally click on everything he was telling you, from what you knew anyway.

“Are you sure?” Were the first words that left your mouth, and he seemed baffled by your reaction. “Yes I’m sure! What’s your deal? I’ll have you know I spent a lot of time planning this out!” You highly doubted that.

The holes were definitely hard to get your mind behind, but as your brain tried to process you suddenly reminded the can while a portal, unbeknownst to you, opened up behind you. Where did it go?

BANG!

A sharp pain raced through the back of your head and the man’s hands went up to where his mouth would’ve, or rather should’ve, been. “Ohmygosh I am SO sorry, I swear I didn’t mean to!”

“Yeah, I figured!”

Reaching up to feel the back of your head, a throbbing pain settled in, but luckily no blood so you deemed it safe. You didn’t have to see it to hear the apologetic tone in his voice, and after that entire fiasco you could only feel bad for the poor guy. He clearly hadn’t been built for a life of crime, but unfortunately decided that it was his path.

“Listen,” you got his attention by showing off you lowering the weapon, before nodding your head up towards the ceiling and giving a pointed look to two corners of the store. “The cameras in here are really old, they don’t have audio and the video quality is horrible. I can edit the footage to an extent before I leave, but if the time gap between the frames is too long it might get suspicious and I’m not losing my job over you.”

You slowly raised your weapon as you looked back at him, turning the safety back on. “I’m going to act like I’m holding you at gunpoint and threatening to call the cops, all you have to do is snatch the gun when I ‘accidentally’ drop it, kind of switch the roles around, you get me? I can get you some money from the safe before I call the cops but you have to be quick-”

“Wait, hold on, you’re helping me?” He asked incredulously, his shoulders falling as he pointed at his chest. You resisted the urge to roll your eyes.

“I am, you honestly don’t seem like a bad guy and it’s not coming out of my paycheck, so long as next time you try to pull this you don’t do it here.”

If he had one, his jaw surely would’ve been on the floor. “I can’t even begin to thank you, you’re a saint! Is this a trick? I can’t repay you for this-” he started on again, but you cut him off be gesturing towards the weapon again to remind him of your words before dropping it.

Luckily for you, he was able to catch on pretty quickly and took the gun. His acting was mediocre at best, but you doubted anyone would look at the footage closely enough to notice how amateur he seemed as he pointed it at you, he hadn’t even turned the safety off. He demanded you take him to the safe before you reminded him that the cameras couldn’t hear him and there wasn’t a need for the menacing voice, to which he sheepishly apologized. After letting him stuff his pockets with as many of the bills as he could fit, you yelled to stop him before he could race out the door.

“The gun. I need it back.”

“Oh, yeah, right…” he chuckled and left it on the counter, taking a few awkward steps back. Your curiosity got the better of you and you leaned forward from behind the counter. “You did a whole lot of talking but I never got your name.”

Flustered, he seemed to point at himself as if he were confused on why you were asking him, but replied, “I am…the Spot.”

The same feeling bubbling up in your chest as you eyed his stance and the sudden voice change, you brought a hand up to your mouth, and his shoulders fell yet again.

“You’re seriously laughing? Again?!”

“No! No, I’m not,” you tried to defend, but the giggle you let out before clearing your throat and biting back a smile said otherwise. Luckily you were able to control it this time. “It’s just- what kind of awful parents have the honors of giving you that name?”

“It’s my villain name! Not my real one!” He hissed.

“Then what’s your real name?”

He looked at you puzzled, possibly wondering why you wanted to know so much, but at the same time it’d been a while since anyone had shown genuine interest in him so he obliged.

“Johnathan.”

“Johnathan,” you repeated slowly, as if you were resting out the name in your mouth, making his stomach warm up with an indescribably annoying feeling. “Alright, Johnny. Have a good night. You might want to get lost before the cops show up.”

He turned around as if to leave before pausing yet again, turning his head back. “Wait, I never got your name?”

“Then I guess you’re going to have to come back another time to find out.” Bold, and completely not your style, but something told you that you and Johnathan were going to get along nicely. “Preferably not to rob me though, and without making a big mess I have to inevitably clean.”

You gestured to the mess of food and other miscellaneous items that had fallen off of mostly toppled shelves, and Johnathan gave a sheepish apology. “I’ll be back.”

“I’m counting on it.”

He disappeared into the night, or rather a black portal that opened under his feet once he stepped outside, and you were once again left sitting behind the counter and alone with your thoughts, the sounds of distant sirens getting louder every second, only this time you had something to look forward too the next time you clocked in and the Spot had a new motivation for his newfound criminal activity.

#across the spiderverse #atsv fanfiction #spiderman atsv #atsv x reader #spider man #the spot #jonathan ohnn #johnathan ohnn x reader #spiderverse the spot #the spot across the spiderverse #the spot x reader #the spot atsv

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keesdarlin · 5 months

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☆// striking midnight (MDNI, 18+)

info! cayde-6 / fluff + gender neutral reader

cw! n/a

notes! just a silly little idea i had. also new year's eve has been a little bit rough, so i'm writing this to cope a little bit lol. enjoy :]

in all honesty, what you were doing probably seemed pretty sketchy to someone who was uninformed. or maybe even someone who knew what you were doing. to the unsuspecting eye, it probably looked like-

“are you rigging a bomb? what are you doing, guardian?” your ghost asked, hovering anxiously over your shoulder.

“no, i’m not rigging a bomb,” you retorted, moving around some wires attached to your little contraption. it was colorful and roughly the size of a backpack, mostly metal cylinders and colorful tubing with wires attached. you sighed to yourself, still fiddling with it. “...they’re fireworks.”

“ah. a colorful bomb,” your ghost replied, an air of disappointment in their tone.

“no, no. it’s a light show. we’re gonna send these off to celebrate the new year,” you explained, not looking up as you screwed in a loose part.

“but why do we need to celebrate again? it’s just another completed revolution of the earth around the sun. there’s been a ton of these; it’s nothing new.”

you sighed. you had set up a display leaning against a trash can to the left side of the little alley you’d set up shop in, your headphones connected wirelessly. on the screen played a sort of podcast – two humans sitting together at a table, reflecting on the year with music playing in the background. the viewer count in one corner of the screen read a measly 24, not that you really minded. a countdown to midnight sat in the other corner. the hosts wore no armor, just civilian clothes. you yourself wore minimal armor. probably not the smartest decision considering that you were currently working with explosives, but you wanted to honor the holiday. not quite in your civvies, but not in any kind of battle suit either.

your screen glitched where it leaned against the trash can, the hosts’ voices becoming momentarily distorted. you leaned over, hitting the side a few times. the screen corrected itself. old tech. “because of what it means,” you began, focusing back on the work at hand. “a new year is a fresh start, a clean slate. holds new opportunities. think the light of a new day and all that shit. symbolism.” a beat passed as you rearranged some wires, and then, “i learned that we used to celebrate it before the going got tough. guess i got a little bit sentimental.”

your ghost hummed somewhere behind you, their shell rotating curiously. “well, i think that’s quite nice, guardian.”

“thank you,” you mumbled appreciatively, distracted with your work.

a thud sounded behind you, but you didn’t think much of it. if it turned out to be a threat, you had confidence in yourself to handle it. do you stayed the course, twisting and rearranging and soldering quietly as you hummed along to the music on your livestream. at least it’s nice out. all chilly and calm, just like winter should be. not a peep. judging from your ghost’s silence, they didn’t detect a threat either.

“whatcha got there?” a robotic voice asked from behind you.

you looked over your shoulder to find none other than cayde-6 leaning against the wall of the alley, watching you work. one of his hands lingered near his hand cannon, the other draped across his torso, blue eyes glowing in the dim light.

“a bomb,” your ghost answered easily, shell spinning.

“not a bomb,” you rushed to assure the hunter vanguard. “and not funny,” you directed at your ghost before turning back to the exo. “they’re fireworks.”

“ah,” cayde nodded. “pretty bombs.”

“they’re not bombs,” you corrected, standing to face him. “they shoot up in the air, they’re not gonna hurt anyone.”

“oh, relax. i’m not here to snitch on you or anything like that,” he said nonchalantly.

you looked at him again, gazing pointedly at the hand that lingered near the gun resting in his holster. “mhm,” you said, tone disbelieving.

cayde coughed awkwardly, bringing that arm up to cross the other over his chest. “say, do i know you from somewhere?”

you sized him up, somewhat offended. “i work at the tower. i’m a weapons expert.” i’ve actually worked on the ace of spades, you thought, but left it unsaid.

“of course i knew that,” he assured, nodding. sundance thrummed by his ear, observing.

you nodded too, half-heartedly affirming him.

“so what’s with the bombs?”

“am i the only one that celebrates new year’s eve around here?” you asked lightly, tone bordering on a laugh.

cayde whistled. “from what i’ve heard, yes.”

you frowned to yourself, shoulders slumping. “that is so disappointing.”

“i suppose so,” he agreed. “how are you planning on celebrating?”

you pointed to the podcast playing on your monitor. “once that timer hits midnight, i’m gonna get off the fireworks. probably get a bite to eat after.”

“sounds… interesting.”

“care to join?” you offered, giving him a lopsided grin.

cayde seemed to think on it a moment and then shrugged. “i mean, why not? as long as no one gets hurt, of course.”

“great!” you smiled, turning back to your machine. you quickly went back to soldering and tweaking various parts of it.

cayde came up, crouched down next to you. “so how long do we have until it’s time to set this sucker off?”

you spared a glance to your screen, checking the countdown timer. “a couple minutes.”

“a couple minutes? and you’re still working on it?!”

you waved him off. “calm down, i know what i’m doing,” you muttered.

“you’re sure?” cayde checked.

you turned to him, eyes narrowed. “if you don’t trust it, leave.” when he didn’t, you turned back to your work. a few more sparks flew before you finally stood up, setting your hands on your hips. “there.”

cayde hummed, standing up beside you. “okay, great! now what?”

you gestured to the screen. the timer in the corner stood at only 11 seconds. the both of you watched as midnight grew closer. “5… 4… 3… 2… 1…”

the timer hit zero and you pushed a button on the contraption with your foot, stepping back. thankfully cayde followed suit because, a moment later, a barrage of fireworks went up in the air. both of you watched as they exploded in a colorful, booming display of sparks. “wow,” he whispered breathily.

grinning, you turned your gaze to him, nudged him with your elbow. “happy new year.”

although it seemed a little hesitant, cayde smiled back, eyes glowing a little brighter. “happy new year.”

“now…” you trailed off, grabbing your display screen and dropping it into your bag. another troop of fireworks went up and your grin seemed to gleam a little brighter around the edges. “we should probably run before we get in trouble.”

cayde blinked at you. “what?”

you laughed, staring at him a moment before taking off down the alley. “we should go! you think i got permission from this?”

and then he startled into the realization. you jerk. he broke into a sprint after you, watching the fireworks over his shoulder as he went. “i guess i assumed!”

“no way!” you called, mischief clear in your voice.

he shook his head, following you around a corner. “you owe me ramen for this, kid!”

#cayde 6 x reader #cayde-6 x reader #destiny x reader #destiny 2 x reader #i'm a little bit obsessed w cayde atmo please excuse me lmao #like in my brain he's like the destiny equivalent of ryan reynolds idk #cayde 6 fluff #cayde-6 fluff

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copperbadge · 7 months

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It LOOKS like I did a lot today...

I knew that I would need containers for various things when I started cleaning this year, but I held off until I could make a list and take measurements; this isn't even all of the containers I need, but it's what I could get from Ikea. Container Store will likely provide the rest but again, I'm waiting until I have a fuller idea of what all I need.

Last year I organized my craft stuff and designated a specific drawer for fabric; that worked well but the drawer got a bit disorganized because it was "one cardboard box with no lid, and fabric shoved into and around it". So I measured the drawer and bought a pair of plastic bins for the majority of the fabric, so now I can remove the bins if need be to get a better idea of what's available. I also found out there's a store in Chicago which takes donations of crafting stuff so eventually I'll destash some of this. I've been trying to use up a lot of it on various projects in the meantime.

[ID: Three images; the first shows a bin full of folded squares of fabric, sitting on top of the shelf, while the next shows one bin of fabric and some loose fabric in a drawer, and the third image shows how the two bins fit into the drawer.]

Another bin I bought from Ikea was a metal basket to contain all my seasonings; this worked well, and allowed me to open up a bunch of space on the shelf they used to sit on for stuff that was on the shelf above it, making it easier to see what all I do and don't have.

[ID: Two images of a white two-section basket split by a wooden handle in the middle; in the first it is sitting on the stove, freshly full of jars of spice and herbs (Marylanders take note: that red lid is indeed Old Bay). In the second image it is sitting on the spice shelf surrounded by other stuff like a box of baking soda and a spice grinder, while the shelf above it is noticeably not super cluttered.]

I also sorted through the spices, threw out some old ones, and identified the jars of stuff I hadn't used much and should use soon. I think I'm going to spend the winter making cinnamon rolls and swirl bread with the vanilla sugar, and make a shitload of taco meat with the fajita seasoning. I'll probably use the cheese powder for mac and cheese, and the Greektown for burger seasoning. Or maybe I'll try my hand at making falafel with it.

[ID: A photo of several jars and packets of seasoning, including Spiced Vanilla Sugar, Romano powder, Penzey's "Revolution" seasoning and "Fajita" seasoning, and a seasoning mix called "Greektown".]

Lastly, to get to $35 and get free shipping, I bought some Ikea "cord caddy" thingys, which you stick to a surface and run your charging cords through in order to keep them tidy. I realize neither of these LOOK tidy but compared to what they were, they very much are.

[ID: Two images; one is of a small portable table that I use for working on my laptop, and shows the caddy holding the laptop's charging cord and a phone charging cord so the table feet stop tangling them. The second image shows a caddy attached to one of the slats of my headboard, through which are threaded a power cord to some remote-control lights, another phone charging cord, and the charging cord for my sleep headphones.]

Listened to about the first forty minutes of the latest episode of Just King Things, about Wizard and Glass, and was gratified to hear many of my own complaints about it reiterated by either the hosts or people they've spoken to. I have started that book so many times and never been able to finish it because I Do Not Care about Roland getting laid as a teenager. So it's nice to get the plot and analysis in podcast form, and now I'll never HAVE to read it.

#naclyoho #national clean your home month #food

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anthroposeen · 27 days

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tmagp 15 relisten notes!

episode 15 spoilers below the cut!! be warned!

celia:

- potentially the worlds most balanced and well maintained person, considering the way she handled herself around her coworkers and in uncomfortable situations. its unnerving to me to have a character be so seemingly well balanced

- she's hired a sitter to watch jack, meaning georgie is not watching him as previously thrown around by the fans

- she's very calm when facing down lady mowbray and her hunting dogs, and is called "different" and strange by her -> further confirmation that celia is not from this universe

sam:

- picked out tickets for 'the pillowman' for his 2nd date with celia. unlike sam, i did look into this play, which was written by a man named martin (may we never escape the same-name curse) and is has a theme surrounding the question, "what price do we pay for freedom of expression" (taken from the play's website). i think this is definite foreshadowing into the themes of the podcast or sam/celia's arcs specifically (what price do you pay for knowledge? for autonomy? for recognition?)

- sam seems a bit cold with alice throughout their interaction, not really engaging with her or trying to have any banter with her like normal. i think this is reasonable, considering he told her he wants to not discuss his relationship with her and shes interrupting him and celia, but i wanted to point it out since we last saw him in a bad mood with gwen. the guy seems a bit down and out

alice:

- her invitation to sam and celia is interesting to pick apart, and ive split into two interpretations of the invitation. on one side of the coin, i think she genuinely wanted to hang out with them, even as the third wheel, and she wanted to show off her brother's talent. on the other hand, she could be using the show as a resource to divide sam and celia and throw a wrench in their date plans. i think the first interpretation makes sense, and its the assumption im working off of to understand her character/motivations, and i think its evidenced by her checking the times to confirm the show happens after their date.

- seems to be very thrown off by celia having a baby, which of course speaks to alice's own relationships and expectations (anytime someone my age has a baby i'm thrown off), but also gives an idea of how celia presents herself at work. she must not speak of her personal life at all for no one but sam to know about jack.

- she meets a drowning victim in an alley after the show, and tried to help her. the fact that she seems unsure of whats going on means she doesn't actually know about the ins and outs of the fears/powers. so she may know the OIAR's deal but she doesnt seem to clock this as a supernatural event. this places a limitation on what alice knows

gwen:

- we can assume that lady mowbray is the external that lena wanted her to contact, and though she seems in control of the situation, she's uneasy when mowbray mentions she's ate recently. meaning she can be professional, but still isn't ok with the situation at hand

incident:

- the caller is ex-military and described lady mowbray as "not seeing people anymore, just assets" with "gun metal gray hair"

- he describes the feeling of staring down the barrel of a gun, and knows the sound of a head shot without looking

- mowbray has control of her hunting party and seems to have some influence over the man narrating, but i think thats a sign of him already being marked by the power she serves

- despite the man successfully hunting his coworkers and winning that race, he was still prey for her, with none of the rest of her party partaking in the chase (this is interesting since the hunt was a group activity in the TMA universe, with hunters preferring to work with a partner)

- the music indicating that mowbray is near is so well done and actually gave me goosebumps, i really enjoyed that it sped up the closer she got to her target, similar to the jaws theme almost. it added amazing tension!!

new characters/new introductions:

- lady mowbray, an avatar of sorts that seems to serve this universe's hunt/slaughter adjacent power. she's also an OIAR external and may know the bouchards

- alice's brother!! i was realy surprised we got to meet him (horrible awful news for him, im so sorry you're doomed mate you seem really chill)

- the drowning victim. i think that this woman is from the TMA universe, (a tape recorder clicks on to record this segment! which has only happens at the magnus institute in this universe!) and she may be from a vast/sea domain in the fear apocalypse. she's definitely experiencing a psychotic break, and i think she likely teleported/transported across dimensions like celia did. but theres also a possibility that she came from the institute, since we heard movement from the location (though im certain she isnt the error)

glitches/lies:

none

extra comments:

- you can faintly hear the hunting theme music play when mowbray is talking to celia and commenting on her being peculiar

- i think the incident is clearly hunt-related, but the caller being ex-military and using so many military phrases/metaphors throughout the incident does make me think it could be a connection between the hunt and slaughter, but im very cautious to try and reason how the powers work just yet

- i think the tape recorders will be an indicator of when we're dealing with someone/something from the TMA universe, and it may draw correlation to that world building in those specific scenes, but this is a hunch

- this is my favorite incident so far, as ive always been a very big fan of the hunt in TMA, and this is the closest tmagp has gotten to the power! i love mowbray's character so far, i can really get behind the cruella de-ville meets queen of hearts vibe she has going on and i really enjoy the melodrama she commands

#tmagp #tmagp 15 #the magnus protocol #alice dyer #tmagp spoilers #tmagp theory #gwen bouchard #sam khalid #celia ripley

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