Sam

Any pronouns- We are neither man nor women, we simply are. Heavily dyslexic mostly cod stuff

[sandwhitched]

I am not Christian, i actually am ex Christian and never plan on going back to the church.

However

That will not stop me from actively listening to veggie Tales. Veggie tales will never truly be a Christian thing, it’s simply just silly fruits and vegetables singing.

[sandwhitched]

Simon and Johnny watched the night grow darker, the sounds of crickets in the grass, the cool soft breeze grazing there skin.

It was after a mission they went on together, it had gone well, they decided to celebrate with drinks.

It was- peaceful. More peaceful than Simon had felt in a long time. Johnny held his hand, their calloused palms against each other. It was a soft moment, rare for them.

There line of work didn’t involve softness, and if you where, you where dead. Simon was never soft, he wasn’t built for it, was never able to handle it. But this- this he could.

Johnny was talking about something, maybe stupid or a terrible joke he had picked up from somewhere. He cradled the beer he was sipping on, half the liquor gone but four more empty bottles sat near them.

“-that’s all I could say honestly” Johnny smiled, the shitty smile that made his shoulders soften. And his eyes were- brown.

Johnnys eyes weren’t brown.

Simon knew that. Simon had looked into Johnny eyes so many times he could tell you exactly what shade of blue they were, how he looked when he was tired or irritated.

He knew that it was to hot for breeze like this I July, knew Johnny hated this brand of beer, and there next mission isn’t til next week.

“You ok?” The Scot was staring at him, but for some reason, he couldn’t remember his face. Replaced with something blurred

“M’fine, Johnny” squeezing his hand, holding out on this fantasy a little while longer.

[sandwhitched]

Simon is a father, surprisingly.

He doesn’t gloat about, doesn’t bring it up other than the guys,doesn’t own any pictures or drawings from you- over all, he just looks like any middle aged single guy.

He’d grunt answers about you, give bits and pieces of information- not because he hated you, just- likes to keep his home life private from work. Doesn’t want to put you in any danger with his line of duty.

They imagined that you’d be- somewhat like your father. Not as talkative, maybe even a little shy, keep to yourself kind of kid.

So it was hailing to them that when they went over for dinner at Simon’s place, you were very chatty. Johnny was the one you liked the most out of everyone, he kept you entertained with all of your silly questions or chatter.

Simon let you explore, let you ask questions about anything and was always honest with you, always blunt and truthful to you without any kind of bite. One thing they noticed is that, he never really said no to things. Not in the traditional sense anyway.

“Can I go look at the ducks near by?” You asked, leaning against the counter as your tinny body tried to contain its energy while being inside.

“Keep to the edge, come back muddy and I’m washing you off with the hose” he didn’t even glance over at you, chopping away at the carrot for dinner.

You were already halfway out the door, not bothering to wait before yelling out “ok bye I will!”

Kyle raised an eyebrow, “your just gonna let them run off like that?”

Simon shrugged “backyard is fenced off. They’ll be back before dinner- and if they aren’t I know the places to look for them”

Well he was right, you were back before dinner-just, caked in mud. “Like a pig fresh from its pen” was how John put it. Everyone thought you where gonna pause before dinner to get you cleaned up- they thought you where joking when you mentioned the hose.

That- was until you actually started washing you down, outside, with the garden hose.

“Wot? Told them this would happen”

[sandwhitched]

Ok I promise you, I’m on my way in making another monster 141 and monster reader post. I’m so busy I keep forgetting- and I also keep deleting what I’ve started bc I don’t like how it comes out 😑

[sandwhitched]

Oh, Sam 😩

Did I already tell you I'm Brazilian? I send messages via translator, but I can read your language perfectly, but recently everything's is 🫯

It seems I've forgotten how to read in English.

And you know what, happens to the best of us.

Obviously my first language is English, but due to a handful of my learning disability’s- it’s sometimes hard to read anything 😭 and don’t get me started if u also have one of my headaches.

At that point I’m temporarily illiterate.

Also really cool! Love how people are always willing to connect to others even if with a little help!

[sandwhitched]

Ha, wait.

Immortal!reader who’s really bad at slang. Like, HORRENDOUSLY bad. 

“Captain. Who is Bob and why is he my uncle?”

Soap was dying, his stomach was as hurting from how long and hard he was laughing. You were holding your phone, squinting at the words displayed on it. Kyle was snickering along side the Scot, eyeing price who had sadly just entered into the madness of it all.

“Wot?”

“And- Ate? Someone told me that recently even though I haven’t had lunch yet. And drip? Some kid said Kyle had drip? He didn’t have a leaky nose or anything…”

After that, you assumed it would be wise to learn the changing language. You knew hundreds of languages, dead and alive. So it’s not hard to do this- right?

“Yup, Kyle had rizz the other night.”

You were talking about how Kyle got two lady’s numbers. Kyle cringes, and soap is holding Ina. Giggle while Ghost side eyes you.

“Hm the anger side eye is giving me the ick, giving mad delulu and cringe vibes”

Pretty sure Soap almost passed out from how hard he was laughing. All of them now pretty sure you where worse then Price now.

[sandwhitched]

Peter was always strong. He had to be. He had to be strong for the kids who looked up to him, had to be strong to fight and keep people safe, had to be strong to push away the ones he loved.

He could never fully look at MJ, she wasn’t the same. That girl had died, the girl he had loved and cherished was gone. That wasn’t her fault, she didn’t remember him the way he did for her. But she was still there, still lived in her- even if it was from a glass panel that only Peter could see.

Ned was a man on his own. He was never his best friend, never laughed over the same shared dumb movies or inside jokes. Peter was just there. Never close enough to fully remember.

Maybe that’s why he didn’t mind this, the cold tile, the warmth spreading over his chest, the blur that seemed to spread over the world. He didn’t blame Jean, he couldn’t. He knew how grief can swallow you hole, hold you close and be the only hollow warmth in the growing pain around you.

At least he would go helping someone. His Aunt would be proud. He wondered if he would get to hug her again soon, let her hold him like he was a child, let him cry into her shoulder like a toddler who scraped there knee.

He hoped Frank wouldn’t blame himself, hoped that he didn’t isolate himself again- but hope could only do so much. Peter would leave the world he loved behind, leave New York in the last breaths he took in the hospital bed.

Spider-man was gone, he was the moment he entered the cold room that smelled like disinfectant. All there was left was Peter. A boy who’s carried more burdens then any teen should have. That have seen more death and blood then any young man should.

Maybe Mr.Stark would be proud of him. He knew who he was, knew that there was no changing himself. That all of him, the good, the bad, and the ugly, was still him. He can be spider-man, he could be Peter Parker. He didn’t have to choose.

Jean was gone, took the last bus to nowhere with whatever feelings she had buried away. Aunt May, Peter, Sarah- they haunt her like ghosts who she will mourn. Following her like phantoms in the night.

Frank will go back to his old ways, bitching and biting and avoiding- and never feeling. Because as much as he wanted, he couldn’t hang Peter in his cabinet. Never had a face, no photo or note to remember him by. Just the voice of a kid who still had so much to live for.

And MJ. Who will always wonder who that girl fully was to Peter. Who that girl never got to be, who Peter never got to see again. How differently her life could have been, how Ned’s life could have been like. The Ghost of what was and could have been.

Spider-man will forever be missed, will always have flowers on his grave, a candle light in his name, a man hundreds will miss.

And Peter will be laid to rest besides him, flowers only given in confession and wonder in who he could have been, a light that will soon go out, and a boy, who will be forgotten and never known.

[plagueislost]

quick color study

[sandwhitched]

Trying to have a serious conversation but your at the pool

[verminedev]

[sandwhitched]

Oh I love him

[sandwhitched]

I’m a very strong advocate for never killing spiders or insects if they are inside your home. Always cup em and throw them outside if possible.

However if I catch one of them in the tub with me, I’m killing that fucker. YOU decide to visit me at my most vulnerable, your death is on you bud.

[sandwhitched]

Soap who does that thing where he’s completely naked other then a Christmas boy over his dick, watching the door open as Ghost walks in.

And Ghost who is just so tired of his shit he just staired at the man before closing the door and walking away.

Cue Johnny having to run after his man just to get him to “take his gift”.

[sandwhitched]

Immovable objects dad!Price and Unstoppable force child!reader getting into an argument.

John never believed in hitting a kid as a punishment, most of the time that’s how children fear their parents- and he’ll be damned if he ever layed a hand on you. So he’s always taught you to speak up for yourself, use your words.

Simon and Kyle watched from the couch as you and your father where in a heated argument- wasn’t the first time for you both, but for them they’ve ever seen price raise his voice like a father instead of captain.

To be fair, the argument wasn’t over something major, though you are prices kid, act just like him. You’re both stubborn, both won’t backdown till someone ends up right.

Johnny made a small wager with Kyle that John wins this, Simon says you end up winning. John is all bark but no bite when it comes to you- though your apparently mostly bite.

[sandwhitched]

Kyle who’s visiting Southern!reader for the first time on there ranch, thinking he’ll get to watch you get all sweaty as from lifting hay bales, seeing you tend to baby animals shirtless, ending the evening under the endless sky full of stars on the back of your truck bed. Getting cozy by a live fire next to you, cuddling in a soft blanket.

Unfortunately that’s not the case. Instead he’s watching you from the shady porch as you yell at a handful of cows because, and he quotes, “the damn fucking bustards keep getting into there watering tank even after putting rails on the damn fucker”

He watches you yell at goats for being dumb asses for touching the electric fence, the baby animals you do end up tending to is a baby horse who was trying to figure out how to use its legs.

He wakes up with a random chicken in the house, half the time he does watch you do something on the ranch, your cursing under your breath about it. And for some reason you never let him help you with anything. He’s fully capable of helping, he’s a sergeant in the military for gods sake.

The one and only time he did true to help, he had tried fixing the door on your shed you had been complaining about. Well, you had caught him, ended up taking him and slinging him over your shoulder.

Well that was the first for him- though he wasn’t to mad since he knew by the end of thishis clothes would be on the floor of your room based on the very vulgar, and graphic, threats you where muttering under your breath as you tracked back to the house.

[sandwhitched]

God wasn’t real. Or if it was it must be like you.

Imperceivable white pulsating light, thin membrane that wrapped and folded over itself until it was nothing but pure blinding bliss of it all.

Johnny didn’t know where he was, had no memory of the past, had no thoughts for the future, and a numbness of the current present. Somewhere here nor there, somewhere quiet yet bleeding with noise.

Catholic guilt always creeped up at times, sometimes mumbling half prayers incase anyone saw. No one was listening, he knew that much. Sometimes it manifested in his dreams, half delusions seeping out.

Your words where of everything, things he was ment to be, the things he will never be. The sweet and soft truths, and all the stinging and tearing lies you’ve told. Like every thought talking to him all at once, over lapping into a clawing, thumping sensation under his skin.

Your touch was agonizing, yet it was so soft and tender. Like his skin was being shredded all his flesh, but that intoxicating feeling that made his bones buzz , mind melting and entangling in those feelings.

He saw his mother in your eyes, her lips kissing his forehead and telling him good night. Saw his father, his hand patting his back and telling him he’s proud. Saw his sisters yelling at one another over something stupid, dragging him into it even when he had no part in anything.

Then he woke up. Something sharp in the side of his head that had been numbed down. The faint buzz of the bright lights, eyes squinting as he adjusted to the new surroundings. The smell of disinfectant and alcohol stung his nose.

There’s a slow beeping near him, though in his mind it seems farther than it actually is. His body hurt, muscles aching as he tried to move.

Someone came in, a man in a white coat and mask, saying something he couldn’t quite hear. Two more women followed, attending to his sides and the machines around him. Someone else stood there with him.

You. Standing in the corner of the room, watching him with eyes that longed for something he couldn’t quite figure out. What were you? Some kind of guardian angel? A ghost? Something that kept him alive, that’s the most he could gather.

You disappeared, like most straining through the air. Go within the second he saw you. Maybe he was going crazy, maybe he was losing it. But he can figure out that later, for now, he was tired.

And this headache was killing him.

[sandwhitched]

Simon holds you like your the most precious thing in the world. Somewhere in the haze of always being in danger, having to always be in the alert- then having to hold you? It’s to much. As if the one good thing in his life might break if he clings to tight.

Most days he just sticks to hold your hand under the covers, thumb stroking the back of your hand. It’s safer, allows him to keep you close yet- give him comfort that he somehow won’t poison you with the things he’s seen.

Johnny clings to you, hugs you tight in your sleep in the late hours of the night. To him, it’s protection. Knowing if something happens he’ll know as well instead of waking up to a cold empty bed. He knows he’s a lot, always energy and a lot to handle.

Yet here, now, it’s his only calm. His body melting into yours, letting the calm of the night settle over the two of you. The only time where vulnerability doesn’t have to be seen in the brightest light.

Kyle has his hands all over you, every part he can touch he touches. His thumb threading over your lips, hand tangling itself in your hair as he massages it, finger tips tracing over your neck and shoulders. Show that your real, your there with him. Solid.

To ease him into sleep that your alive, that your heart is still beating, that your laying besides him. He needs that, to know you’re there and not a trick of his mind.

John doesn’t hold you, doesn’t brush his hands against yours in your sleep, he doesn’t do that. He’s scared he’ll lose you, scare that letting himself be vulnerable with you means being small. Means you’ll see all the true ugly parts of him he never wants you to see. Touch means that- this kind of touch means that.

But…he watches you. Watches you sleep through the night, watches your chest rise and fall with each breath. He knows when you’re having a nightmare or getting restless from the subtle changes in your breadth or brow ever so slightly sticking together. He’ll do that for you.

[sandwhitched]

I’m like half asleep rn and fully thought someone was breaking into my room- no. It was my fat ass dog coming in.

[sandwhitched]

Alien Sam, Hi! 👋🏽

I was reading your posts and I have a request that will save my soul... Please, my President, may I ask for more "demogorgon" reader in its total form?

I know the post is about the reader not appearing to be a monster, but the idea of showing their "true form" is very good.

Write whenever you want, and if you want, I'll wait.

Love how where just throwing titles at me- also it’s on the way!!! Unfortunately ima start to get very busy this next few months due to my job, so writing longer and more thought out fics or post might take a little longer then normal.