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howlett-variants · 1 month ago

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"I've got you"

a/n: I love Charlie Kenton sm, he deserves more love. Also, I haven't written an X reader fic in like 10 years forgive me.

Prompt: Charlie gets his ass kicked, thankfully he has you to patch him up! Words: 2,975 Tags: gn!reader, post movie, hurt/comfort, Charlie is very dog coded to me and I don't know how to tag things anymore

You could have never guessed your day to go like this. Work had been boring as all hell. The only thing keeping you going was the thought of getting to hang out with those you cared about most over at Tallets Gym. Bailey was basically your closest friend at this point. She was kind and caring but could always match your energy- especially if that energy was being angry with Charlie. Speaking of Charlie, seeing him was always one of the best parts of your day. Even when he was being an idiot, or impulsive, or both- he always knew how to put a smile on your face. Which was much needed after a boring day at work. You even looked forward to seeing Max most days. The kid was the spitting image of his father when it came to personality, which definitely had its downsides. Max was probably the most independent eleven-year-old you’ve ever met- he was always determined to do stuff by himself. Even if he ended up asking you or Bailey for help in the end. Things were never boring with the Kentons.

Today would be no exception.

Your phone rang mere moments before you were about to park in front of the rundown gym.

“Hel-” You started, but were quickly cut off by the sound of your good friend Bailey in a panic.

“Charlies hurt.” “What?” “Max just called, and he’s freaking out-” You could hear her voice quicken on the other end.

“Slow down Bail, where are they?” “Some gas station twenty minutes outside of town, they were on their way back from a fight and-” She gave you a few more vague responses, clearly not sure of the situation herself, but that was okay. You could work with that. There weren’t that many gas stations on that side of town, plus it would be hard to miss Charlie’s massive green truck.

–

Ten minutes, and a few potential road laws broken, later- you finally spotted the truck. You pulled up next to them, attempting to not fully slam on your brakes. Your panic had slowly grown over the last few moments, and panicked driving is not a good idea.

Tossing the door open in a quick motion, you stepped out and ran over to see Charlie sitting on the tailgate of his truck. Max was next to him, holding a makeshift ice pack to his face.

“How’s he doing?” You plant your feet in front of them, doing your best to keep your arms at your side to not fret over him. At the sound of your voice, Max looked over with a smile. Charlie attempted to look at you, but winces the moment he tried to open his eyes.

“I’m fine- just a black eye.” Charlie replied weakly, still unable to fully open his eyes.

“He might need stitches this time.” Max’s smile fades, returning to a worried expression.

“Let me see.” Max nods before jumping off of the tailgate, making room for you to take his place. You carefully move to sit next to him, close enough for your legs to touch. You reach a hand up to his face, slowly peeling away the ice pack. It took everything in you to not visibly tense at the rather nasty wound on his face. Whoever beat him up this time actually used a weapon, brass knuckles, if you’d have to guess. He had a large gash right next to his eyebrow, reaching almost to his ear, as well as a black eye and numerous other bruises all over his neck. You can only imagine the amount of bruises he was hiding on the skin you couldn’t see. “Yeah…that’s going to scar. Where’s your first aid kit?”

“Don’t have one…” He mumbled.

“Come again?” You can’t help but sigh, “With how much you get beat up-”

He avoids your glare and refuses to respond, which is Charlie for ‘You’re right, but I will not admit it’. With a slight roll of your eye, you reach into your back pocket with your free hand and take out your wallet to hand to Max. “They should have bandages, or at least some cotton balls I can use to stop the bleeding. Grab what you can- if nothing else, your dad can save it for later.”

The kid nodded as he took your wallet before running back into the gas station. It probably wasn’t your smartest idea to just hand your wallet to an eleven-year-old, but you knew Max would at least grab what you asked- even if he came back with a few extra snacks.

Seconds after he left your eye-line, you heard Charlie suck in a sharp breath. The sound caused your full attention to turn back to the man next to you. He was no longer sitting upright, but instead leaning on the side of the truck as if the metal wall was the only thing holding him upright. You were quick to notice the stiffness in his shoulders was far worse than a few seconds ago, and you didn’t have to ask why to know what was going on in his head.

“Char, the kid just watched you get your ass kicked- again. You don’t have to act all tough. Hell your face is bleeding like some kind of horror movie victim. He knows that you’re not alright.” It broke your heart to see him like this. He was always putting on a front of the big strong unfeeling douchebag, but you knew better. You also knew better than to question it. Max was a strong kid, but he was still just a child. No kid should have to watch this dad getting beat up as much as Charlie did. You moved your hand from his face to his shoulder, using your thumb to rub soothing motions in a small attempt to comfort him.

“How’d you get here so fast?” He questioned, completely avoiding your concerned comments.

“Max called Bailey. Bailey called me. Here I am.” You moved your free hand up to his face, attempting to inspect the wound a bit more. Fingers lightly holding his chin, making it easier for you to move his head if needed. He couldn’t help but lean into the small touches. “I think I still have some pizza in the car. It’ll be cold by now though.”

He let out a light chuckle, mouth struggling to turn into a smile without pain. “Maybe when my face is done bleedin’ out.”

You smile at him, grateful to hear that his sense of humor was still intact. The moment he winces again, your smile falls. “What the hell happened?”

“Just some assholes that I used to owe money to, what else-” He pouts, “I would have been able to our run em but-”

“Max…”

He didn’t have to even look at you for you to understand what he meant. From what Bailey had told you in the past, getting his ass kicked out of the ring was nothing new for Charlie. He was constantly coming back to the gym with cuts and bruises, and the occasional broken bone, but ever since he regained custody of his son, he’s tried to be a lot more careful. He had always been reckless and almost uncaring when it came to what happened to him, but now he had someone to protect. Thankfully, the Atom fights had helped pay off practically every debt he had ever owed, but there were still some people who had it out for him that couldn’t give less of a shit if his son was watching or not.

The hand on his face slowly moved to the back of his neck, before you carefully pulled him closer to you. You positioned his head to rest comfortably on your shoulder. Your other arm snaked around his back, holding him in a secure hug. “It’s okay…I’ve got you.”

Your hushed tone was all he needed to melt completely into your hold. His face hid in the crook of your neck, like it was the only thing keeping him in one piece. His arms found their way around you, holding onto the fabric of your shirt like a lifeline. Charlie Kenton was many things. He was a boxer who had seen his fair share of violence, as well as a man who routinely went to shady places for robot fights, but he was also a father who had no idea what he was doing. To him, there was nothing more terrifying than the idea of his son watching him bleed out (and potentially die). Whoever had attacked him this time didn’t hold back. He honestly didn’t know if he was going to make it out in one piece.

He was in pain and scared shitless, but you were there. You kept him grounded, like you always knew what to do or say to keep his anxieties at bay. You were his rock, and he was yours. The two of you had this unspoken thing that not even Bailey dared to bring up to either of you. You could feel your shoulder becoming damn, from both tears and the blood from his wound- but you didn’t care. The stains would come out, and even if you ended up having to throw the shirt away, it didn’t matter. What mattered was the man quietly sobbing in your arms.

He would never admit it, but Charlie cried a lot. Never in front of you or anyone else, but you’d always catch him silently crying to himself in the middle of the night. You knew that Bailey and Max were aware, but all three of you knew better than to mention it to him. Anytime that you gathered the nerve to ask him if he was alright in the middle of his crying session, he’d just yell at you to go away. You knew he never meant to actually yell at you. Normally he’d even apologize the next morning with a vague ‘sorry about last night’ while avoiding any actual questions about whatever he had been upset about. But right now, he didn’t care. There was nothing he needed more than you.

—

Time passed by in a small blur. The only sound you could hear was Charlie’s heavy breathing finally beginning to regulate itself to the sound of your light humming. His arms were still wrapped around you, but the grip on your shirt had loosened. You still had one arm around his back, the other had found its way to his hair- playing with the short brown strands.

“I got some stuff!” Max’s sudden voice startled you both. You turned your head in his direction to see that his hands were filled with an assortment of bandaid boxes, a bag of cotton balls, and a few snacks that he bought with your money (which you fully expected would happen). Charlie’s body went stiff under your arm at the sound of his son’s voice, embarrassed to be caught in such a vulnerable state. “This is all they had.”

“Thanks kiddo,” you smiled at him. The arm around Charlie’s middle let go, so you could reach out for the ‘medical’ supplies. He silently mourned the loss of the touch the second you let go. You placed the items next to you before your gaze returned to Max. “Why don’t you sit up front and update Bailey, tell her we’ll be back in a little bit. I’ll get to work patching up your dad’s apparently very punchable face.”

It was a poor attempt at a joke, but Max still smiled. Charlie made a mental note to thank you later for the small attempt at saving what was left of his pride. Thankfully, Max obliged and left to go sit in the front seat, giving you two a bit of privacy.

Using both your hands, you carefully lifted his head off of your shoulder. He made a small noise of disappointment as you pulled him from his safe spot. You couldn’t help but chuckle to yourself. You held his face in between your palms as you examined his face one more time. His eyes were a little swollen from the crying, and he looked like he was about to fall asleep. The adrenaline must have finally worn off.

“Okay, I’ll do what I can, but I’m taking you to actually get this checked out first thing in the morning.”

“Fine by me.” his words were beginning to slur together. Something told you that you’d be the one driving the truck back to town tonight. It would be safer to leave your old car than the massive truck holding one of the most popular boxing robots at the moment.

Your humming continued as you cleaned up the drying blood from his cheek. There was only so much you could do with the limited items (and skill) you had, but you stayed focused. With the bleeding stopped and wiped away, the wound wasn’t as bad as you originally thought. It would still leave a nasty scar, but it was small enough that a trip to an actual medical professional could wait. As you worked, you could feel Charlie’s head become heavy in your hands.

“You falling asleep on me?” You teased lightly.

“mmmno.” It was more of a noise than an actual word.

“Almost done, big guy. Then you’re welcome to crash on your little cot back there.” Between the warmth of your hands, the soft touches, and your quiet humming as you worked- Charlie was practically melting. Bailey and you liked to joke that he was like a dog sometimes, from the bursts of impulsive energy, to the unapologetic joy over the smallest things, and of course his mastery of the ‘puppy dog eyes’ that he often used on you and Bailey to get what he wanted. He would always scoff or roll his eyes whenever you would tease him or whenever you called him a dog. You couldn’t help it, especially at times like this- with his eyes comfortably closed and melting into your every touch. It was adorable, despite the fact that you were actively cleaning up a wound.

“Can’t sleep yet-” His body betrayed his words by interrupting his sentence to let out a yawn. “Gotta drive back.”

“Not like this, you’re not. I’ll drive.” Driving the truck wasn’t your favorite, but you have done it before. As long as you didn’t get pulled over, you could drive it home without a problem. “C’mon, let’s get you into bed before you actually pass out on me.”

With a light pat to his cheek, he dutifully allowed you to help him stand. His head immediately seeking your shoulder to lean on again. He was taller than you, but still seemed perfectly comfortable once he found the crook of your neck again. You blamed the blood loss and the crying for how touchy he was being. It’s not that he wasn’t a touchy person. He had a lack of personal space with those he was close to, but this was different. For a second, you questioned if this was even beyond him seeking you out as a source of comfort.

Ignoring the swirl of worry and emotions you had yet to even fully admit to yourself, in your stomach, you carefully led him over to the cot inside the truck. You gave him a small nudge to sit down. He listened with only a small sound of complaint. The disappointment was short-lived. You could almost see ears perk up the moment you returned to sit by his side.

“Thanks…for doing all this.” Standing must have woken him a little. His voice was much clearer than it was a few seconds ago.

“It’s not like I was going to let you bleed out.” You rolled your eyes with a small smile across your lips, as you finished putting the last bandaid on his face. It was a haphazard job, but it would do the trick- at least for a few hours.

“I know. Glad to have you on my side is all.” Your eyes moved from the collection of bandages to his eyes, feeling a little shocked by the genuine emotion they held. Charlie didn’t have a lot of people to count on. You knew that better than anyone.

“I’m happy to patch you up anytime.” Your hands left the sides of his face where you had been diligently working, moving down to find his hands. He took the hint and intertwined your fingers, giving them a light squeeze. The two of you were bonded, neither wanting to question of risk actually talking about what that bond was. You were waiting for him to say something, and he was in between being far too chicken shit and waiting for you. So many days spent dancing around either other like this. You knew, even now, that neither of you would mention the softness and tenderness from tonight’s interaction. He’d go to sleep as you drove him, and he’d wake up not remembering much of the night in the first place. Still you sat with him, foreheads pressed together, basking in each other’s company.

“I gotta take you home, Char.” You whispered, not wanting to leave this moment yet. His grip on your hand tightened, but he still allowed you to pull away.

“Tomorrow, let me take you to dinner.” His voice wasn’t as quiet as yours, but it was even more unsure of itself. Speaking before thinking, as always, but looking deep into your eyes this time. “As…thanks.”

You couldn’t help but smile at the offer. The two of you went out for dinner alone all the time, but something about this felt different. You gave his hand one final squeeze and planted a small kiss on his cheek before standing up. “It’s a date.”

#charlie kenton #real steel #charlie kenton x reader #hugh jackman x reader #fic writing #I guess I'm doing fics now

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creature-wizard · 9 months ago

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How the mythology of starseeds, indigo children, crystal children, rainbow children, etc. harms kids

Something I didn't talk about in my last post is how New Age is often harmful to young children, so I'm going to talk about it here.

Here's a quick rundown on terminology for anyone who doesn't already know:

Starseed: An alien soul incarnated in a human body, typically for the purpose of "raising the Earth's vibrational frequency" (read: convert people to New Age beliefs).

Indigo/Crystal/Rainbow Child: A child born with a spiritually advanced soul, whose life purpose is to bring the New Age into being.

If you do a quick websearch on any of these terms, you'll find that the alleged signs of being one of these overlaps with traits associated with autism and ADHD. Many websites will just straight-out say that these children are commonly mistaken for having autism or ADHD. Sometimes you'll find people who claim autism and ADHD don't actually exist at all, but were created by the conspiracy to control and suppress these kids.

What often happens is that New Age parents see their autistic and ADHD children displaying these "signs," and decide that their kids are one of these special souls. So rather than giving their children the help and support they actually need, they project and burden them with incredibly high expectations. We're talking about parents expecting their kids to be able to work miracles or have access to all of this incredibly advanced wisdom that they simply just don't.

Various people I've seen on this website who were raised by New Age parents have spoken about how this kind of thing messed them up. They basically have religious trauma from it. Deciding that your kid has special powers and a special purpose because they meet a very spurious criteria is not okay.

When I was a kid, I absolutely would have fit most definitions of a starseed. I believed in magic, fairies, aliens, and psychic powers. Sci-fi and fantasy was my jam. I loved to draw and play elaborate games of pretend. The idea of helping and healing people appealed to me majorly. And, well, I had undiagnosed autism and ADHD.

But you know what I didn't have?

The kind of special spiritual gifts and innate wisdom people associate with starseeds and the rest.

In fact, as far as I could tell, everyone around me seemed to be more psychically and spiritually gifted than me, for no reason I could ever work out. It was actually kind of traumatizing, because I felt like something was wrong with me.

So yeah, deciding a kid must be some special, extra-magical kind of soul because they have certain characteristics and interests is really not good. Parents who do this are essentially forcing their own egos onto their children, who will very likely end up traumatized from the whole ordeal.

#new age #starseed #starseeds #crystal children #crystal child #indigo children #indigo child #rainbow children #rainbow child #ableism #adhd #autism #religious abuse #spiritual abuse #neurodiversity

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milkman-zahhak · 2 months ago

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Cal has some history in the community.. (writing + THE DRAWINGS YOU'VE BEEN WAITING FOR‼️)

trying to flesh out my OCs a bit. I kind of HC that Cal would be open about his kinks online and posts videos and images of his belly and such before he lived with Leo. Honestly he probably still does by the time he's living with him, just less often and more secretly. Either way, this opened the door for a really interesting story to develop, and I'm already worldbuilding..

anyways, here's one of Cal's many adventures of self-discovery from the past. WARNING: CONTAINS BELLY FETISH STUFF, READ TAGS FOR THE WHOLE RUNDOWN!

[This story is a prequel to the Movie Night story]

- Part 1 - (YOU ARE HERE) Part 2 (prequel to part 1) (think of it like a flashback scene, seen as Leo and Cal drift asleep in part 1) - Part 3 (sequel to part 1) . . . - Halloween Special PART 1

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

Cal's belly is usually thin, just soft with a bit of squish. He was a bit chubby, but only really in the middle..

Regardless, right now his belly is swollen from a heavy dinner of mac 'n cheese that he accidentally indulged in. The feeling of being so comfortably full... his once loose t-shirt feeling somewhat snug, his legs barely visible when he looks down... he had to take advantage of that while it lasted, he wanted to save and record the memory, like he usually does when he stuffs himself.

But what would he even film? He can't just sit there like usual, that's getting boring. "Dammit..." Cal curses to himself. He should have started recording before he ate, then he could have uploaded the eating part too for content. If only he had actually planned on overeating beforehand instead of doing it on accident.

Cal looks down and rubs his full belly. Surely his shirt couldn't get any tighter... could it? And his snap-button shorts are a bit stretched at the waist—they'll likely bust open if he has enough to eat..

Cal grins as an idea forms in his head, a perfect setting for the video!

He positions the camera on a tripod on the floor a few feet away, rubs his bloated stomach, pushes play on the camera, and glances up at the blinking red light to record his greeting. Cal grins smugly at the lens, even though his face and mouth aren't visible.

He's still rubbing the sides of his stomach in soothing circles as he starts to speak for the video "Hey, viewers," he begins. He glances down at his full belly as he talks to whoever might be watching this. "I'm pretty full from a late dinner, I ate a whole pot of mac n cheese, it was super thick. I drank a lot of fruit juice too- I'm outta soda right now. Uh, but basically, urgh.. even though I'm clearly stuffed, I still wanna try to pack more in this gut." he gives his belly a firm pat and chuckles. "Let's see how long I can last, hm?"

Cal crawls backwards, away from the camera, and takes a seat on the floor, sitting against a wall in his kitchen. The camera catches every little struggle as he does so. He pulls the hem of his shirt down as far as it can go, only for it to inch back up when he moved again. Cal playfully groaned "ughh.. my shirt's already riding up a bit.. haha." showing the camera his stuffed belly and how it's pushing against the fabric.

"This t-shirt is so tight around the middle right now," he murmurs, smirking. "I'm going to see how much tighter I can make it just for you folks watching." Cal chuckles, and excitedly snags an unopened box of cookies from the pile of snacks he prepared within arm's reach beside him, and brings them into the camera's view. He bites into a cookie, gives the camera a thumbs up, and continues munching away.

Soon, Cal begins to feel his stomach stretching, the air inside being forced out frantically in order to make room for the copious amounts of food he keeps eating. Small burps slip out of his mouth as he chews, and his stomach could be heard audibly churning. Halfway through the box of cookies, Cal has to pause to rub and soothe his bloated belly. He gives a weak laugh to the camera, his cheeks puffing out a bit trying to let out belches through mouthfulls of cookie as he continues to chew and swallow. "*uuurp* mmph.. *buuurp* phew, god... this is really starting to h-*hic* hurt... it feels so tight..." he pants, and tries to give his belly another pat. But he falters, cringing from the strain it brings. "I'm already so *grrmmble* *uuorp* full... mmm, but I still want to eat more..."

He's playing it up verbally for the camera, of course, but he really does feel full.

Cal knows pushing his limits means getting out of his comfort zone, though, and you never know your limits until you reach them– that's what he thinks anyways. Cal picks up his pace again– he can't sit there on the ground and chat with the camera for too long. He has to get in more food. Soon, the cookies are finished, and he reaches for his next snack, a small tub of ice cream. "I'm lactose intolerant, but I really love ice cream. It's getting close to expiring though and since I don't eat it often, there's so much left..." Cal rambles as he opens the lid "... I'd hate for it to go to waste, sooo.." he dips a spoon in and nearly moans as he lifts a spoonful of ice cream to his mouth, his stomach gurgling nastily in response.

Cal's shirt, previously tugged down, continues to inch up his belly. He's too tired and full to bother fixing it each time it slips up, and it's not like the camera or whoever's gonna be watching him minds anyway. His stomach is visibly stretching and hardening, the sides pushed out by the amount of food he's quickly stuffing into it. He can no longer keep his hand away from his belly for too long, he just can't let it rest with how much pressure inside him, all the food and gas. Cal uses one hand to eat with and the other to rub slow, gentle circles over his soft t-shirt to soothe the tumultuous tummy underneath while keeping the shirt down over his belly button.

The ice cream is going down easily enough, but it's piling up and causing trouble in his stomach. Every spoonful is followed with a soft, almost inaudible belch, trying to let out the expanding air being forced in with each gulp. Cal finishes about half the tub until he has to pause again. He's looking down at his tummy in his lap, admiring it through his curious eyes just off screen, as he massages his full, bloated belly. "*grrrble* oh god, *urp* o-oh man, my stomach is really stuffed right now... *hiccup* mmgh... it's so full.."

Cal forces himself to shift a little bit to the side, giving the camera a better view of him as his stomach churns and burbles painfully. He leans back against the wall and sighs, rubbing in soothing circles as he attempts to speak through rumbly belches forcing their way up his esophagus. "This is *mmgh* r-really... starting to h-*huurp*.. unf.. all this.. making my tummy so upset.." he pauses as he feels a large pocket of air disperse within him *grrrmmble.. uuurrrp* "guuhhh...."

He cringed at the taste of the burp. It tasted like how a dumpster smelled. He warns his potential future viewers "I'm so fucking bloated right now, oh my god... *buuuorp*.. such a weird combination of foods.. oof, I can already feel it... 'm gonna have some really nasty burps and farts.. sorry- warning, I guess, this is prob'ly gonna get super gross.."

Cal forces down the rest of the ice cream, practically just chugging what melty soup was left. dropping the empty tub on the floor and groaning. "I.. I feel so.. clogged. *hic-uuurp*"

He rests both his hands on the top curve of his round belly, clenching up, ready to let out some major gas as he feels a familiar sensation brewing below, but only a silent-but-deadly, miniscule little puff comes out. "I need to let out some gas but.. I ate so much mac n cheese for dinner, I think my intestines are... ugh.."

Cal clenched his fists and his jaw as he felt his lower belly cramp up. He's sure that the link between his intestines and stomach is functioning like a dirty shower drain. His previous meal clogging everything up, and everything he's eating right now is being left to drain into the rest of his digestive system painfully slowly.

Cal's breath becomes somewhat uneven and ragged. His stomach keeps emitting long, drawn out gurgles every 8 seconds or so- almost rhythmically, and he's starting to have second thoughts about eating any more. It's just too much.

His head is starting to spin, and he feels sluggish and tired just from how stuffed he is. Cal looks into the camera once more, and even though the video only ever captures him from about the shoulders-down, for a second you could see in the footage, his face is pale and sickly. He's visibly exhausted from gorging himself like this. His hand moves to the middle of his stomach again, and he looks forlornly down at the loud, heavy, taut orb under his soft tshirt. He sighs deeply. "Mmph... oh man, I'm... I'm really not doing too good. *uuuurp*."

The air in his stomach is getting trapped and pushing against his intestines along with the food, causing sharp pains to pulse and radiate out to his entire digestive system. In fact, he has to stop rubbing his belly for a moment as a low grumble makes him wince and gasp softly. The gas shifting in his overstretched bowels is painful, yes, but it's slowly becoming more risky as his body rebels against what's being done to it. He swallows, his throat burning with acidic bile. "Fuck." The curse leaves his mouth as a breathless hiss.

Cal's hands push into the top of his stomach, massaging it up and down slowly, resulting in a short, wet burp that he has to cut off halfway through in fear it might bring more up. He's trying in vain to alleviate the tension and cramping, rubbing his belly like he normally does to soothe the pain and nausea, but for once he's doing it for himself, not for the camera. "Ughhh... I feel so sick... *grrruuURRP* why did I let myself eat so much..." he winces and burps weakly, shifting his body in a way that makes his belly look even rounder.

He moans softly, rubbing a palm all along the top of his stuffed guts. The noise of his stomach is so loud it's easily picked up by the camera sitting a few feet away.

...the camera... shit.

Cal was prepared to gamble on some burps to try and get relief, but the video has been going on for a while now and he ought to at least turn the camera off.

"Fu- *uurp*, ohhhh, god. mmgh...*ghuuuurp...*" Cal's stomach gurgles and squelches intensely as he strains forward to try and reach the camera. A long, drawn out gurgle travels along the lining of his digestive system, ending with an audible *pfft-ffft* from below. Cal's eyes go wide as he immediately recognizes the sound and the feeling, worried that he let his guard down too easily.

He stops trying to lean forward and falls back, breathing a little heavier and more nervously due to the pain and fear. "Oh god... *urp* oh no..."

Cal rubs his bloated tummy with both hands, spreading his legs to make room for it as he sits back, helpless. He winces as a small *grrr-bleeeurrgh* noise resonates from deep within his stomach. It wasn't a fart (yet), but he still panicked for a moment thinking it was. He already just had a close call, he wasn't ready for another already!

Cal's mind was racing. He doesn't want to just leave the camera on.

Sure, he had a warning at the beginning of the video that this would be gross and such, but this feels like... too much? What if he threw up, or shat himself on camera? In private and experiencing it is one thing, but he doesn't know if he could even bear to watch back the footage of himself doing any of that to edit it out afterwards, making the whole recording useless if he did just abandon it.

But in this position, there's no way he could reach the camera without putting pressure on his bowels and risking more than just gas.

"... oh, oooooh... *urp* ow, I can't get up, I can't- *uurlp* ugh...." Cal tries to explain himself for the video. He leans to the side instinctively as he feels another fart brewing. Clutching his belly and curling forward ever so slightly, a low, rumbly "*gurrrgglgeurlglele... phbrrrrrfffbbtt*" echoed throughout the room.

His cheeks flare hot and red with embarrassment, his tummy still gurgling and rumbling. "Aahhhh... phew *hurrp* o-owww.... I don't... oh, god, this is so stupid... I'm gonna *grumble* ... gonna end up making a fool of myself, huh?"

He's trying to talk himself down from the panic, but the thought of potentially ending up in a humiliating situation still has him on edge. "*Urrp*... *guuuurble*... m-my tummy is really upset..." Cal grimaces as his stomach cramps again.

"Agh.. I can't even sit up to reach the camer-auuoorp fuck!" He swears. Talking to the camera didn't help him physically, but mentally it felt like he had someone else here to support him. He could easily "empty himself", so to speak, if he wanted to, which he doesn't, and he's really good at managing to keep everything down as long as he stays calm and doesn't freak out.

He doesn't have anyone to pig out with in real life, so talking to a camera might actually be what's holding him together right now.

Cal sighs. Worst case scenario, he can just delete the recording afterwards or grit his teeth and try and edit out the bad parts, after all, it's HIS recording and HE decides what to do with it.

Cal takes a breath to calm himself down before continuing. His belly is churning loudly underneath his soft hands which are resting on top of the overstuffed orb. He tries to think positive- his viewers will probably get a kick out of seeing him like this, despite the embarrassment. And his inner masochist sort of gets a kick out of the attention too.

There's gotta be someone out there whose into this aspect of stuffing, even if it isn't really him. [[Yes, someone....]]

"Man, ugh... I'm so full.. *uuurp* I... gotta go to the bathroom... I dunno wh- *hic* which end, but..." he moans as a loud rumble interrupts him for a moment. "... but I feel kinda sick now so even if nothing happens.. *urp* it's... *guh*-good to be prepared, y'know?.." he rambles on, trying to distract himself from his own tummyache while hopefully adding a bit of entertainment to the video.

Cal's stomach still keeps churning loudly as he talks, and he grimaces every now and then as things start to move along. He's very uncomfortable, but the camera makes it sort of bearable in the sense that it feels like there's someone there with him to listen to his complaints.

"Ohhhhh my god.. *brrrble* I can feel it sitting there, all that food..." He reminisces on his day and what he's eaten to get him to this point.

"I ate a big breakfast and lunch and ordered food, 'cause *hic* 'm still a NEET right now... *uuurp*, already pretty full... " he pats his belly gently, realizing how far his shirt has ridden up.

His belly is exposed like a gluttonous cartoon, he pulls down his shirt as far as it will go, not bothering to even try buttoning his pants back up (the snap button has long since come undone). He looks pregnant, his ball-belly in his lap, warping the soft fabric of his shirt and stretching it forward and out.

He continues speaking while rubbing his hands across the fabric, feeling the texture of it under his fingertips instead of his clammy, sensitive tummy and skin, making for a much smoother belly rub.

"...for d-dinner, as you know, I ate so much.. *grrrroowl* oof... I couldn't even believe I fit it all in me so easily, even though I felt so full... ooooh" He chuckled, missing that version of being "full".

"..maybe I should've.. *hrgh-ueeuurp*- 'scuse me, should've just stopped there.."

Cal's cheeks flush pink. "I'm... I'm kind of impulsive when it comes to *uuurp* food." Cal winces as he feels a long, low grumble emanate from within, sounding deep enough to have come straight from his actual intestines. He tries in vain to stifle a fart, but a small, short *phrrrrbt* slips out instead, causing him to groan and stop rubbing for a second. "Sorry!! Sorry, I'm really.. I'm .. *blrrrbllrgrrr* T-The cookies and ice cream.. and the mac n' cheese.. 'ts all acting up in there..."

He winces again, the discomfort growing as more pressure builds down below. The food is definitely digesting slower than usual, causing him to feel increasingly bloated and stuffed.

"I- I should've just... *guuuaaah*... should've just been satisfied with having a full belly, and instead.. I just had to keep stuffing myself til I- *grrgle... huu-UOORP* ... aughhhhhh, I'm so DUMB for this stuff.. now just look at me.." he trails off as his stomach bubbles more frequently.

He's farting every so often now, each one forcing itself out against his will, and every burp feels like a gamble. "mmmhmmnn... gotta get up.. gotta *bhuuurp* m-move to the bathroom.. lay.. down.." he says hurriedly through belches as he finally is able to lean forward far enough to grab the camera.

But he doesn't shut it off, not yet.

Cal grips the camera tightly in one hand and pushes himself up off the floor with the other as he tries to pull his legs back in underneath his swollen, heavy body, so he could stand up. His hard, aching belly hangs in his lap, cradled only by his shirt, and causes him to almost lose his balance– but he's able to catch himself before tipping forward.

As he slowly stands upright, he grunts and holds his breath. Soon, Cal is standing. He makes sure to hold the camera out so it captures his belly as he quickly shuffles towards the doorway, pausing to lean against it as the sudden shift from standing up made him feel nauseous and dizzy, the feeling hitting him like a semi-truck.

*uuurrppp* "f-*uurp*... god." Cal wipes his forehead shakily with his free hand before putting it back on his belly, waiting for the worst of the dizziness to subside. His gut is gurgling and churning angrily as it protests against the sudden movement. He takes a moment to just stand still and focus on breathing, trying to push down the urge to gag.

Cal takes deep breaths, calming himself down, making sure the burps that inevitably come up as he does so aren't too forceful or risky.

When he feels like he can move again with less risk of throwing up, he shuffles out and down the small hallway to the bathroom, pausing to lean against the bathroom doorframe as another sharp wave of dizziness washes over him. His stomach lurches in response, *urrp-!* and forces a thick belch out of his mouth. A weak groan escapes his lips as he shakily steps into the bathroom, holding the camera as he practically falls to his knees.

With the camera set down on the floor with him, Cal slowly moves over to the toilet and lays down beside it, his stomach churning the entire time. *urr-uurp.. hbrrrrp* *gurrrg*- "Ohhh…" he groans in between the involuntary belches.

His stomach groans along, possibly in solidarity, but likely in spite. Cal's hand moves down to his belly, gently rubbing the front in circles, his eyes closed as he attempts to focus on something other than the churning discomfort. Cal rolls over onto his side, groaning as he does so, and tries to curl up a little bit to relieve the discomfort. His stomach rumbles promisingly, but the change in position has suddenly blocked anything from coming out from either end somehow. It makes him feel a lot more stuffed and bloated, which then makes him realize exactly how rapidly his body is actually producing gas.

The pressure is so bad, he has to rock his body a little, curling up around his tummy, rubbing it with one hand while he rests his head on the other, feeling the cold hard floor against his sick belly "Ow.. ow, oh god... *hrgrb* *uurp*... I gotta get this gas out now, or I'm gonna lose it all..."

Cal presses down deep on his belly with his fingertips, hoping to relieve some of the pressure. His tummy gurgles ominously, and Cal winces at the feeling. He burps a few times into the other hand until, *braaap*, a short, deep fart slips out, to his surprise, sounding airy and more explosive than what he'd been producing so far. It was quickly succeeded by a few more toots, exiting in quick succession, as if those had broken the dam. He flushes red with embarrassment at the sudden release of gas from the other end.

"Oh god." Cal moans in embarrassment, “That.. felt a little bit better, uh…” but the gas keeps coming, escaping his backside even as he rubs and massages his tummy, trying to soothe the ache. *fffrrrrrrraaarrrrp*

Each one was loud, bubbly, and long, and they kept coming. They weren't quick little farts either, they were deep and drawn-out.

His stomach was purring intensely under his hand, like a motorcycle engine.

"Dammit, oh, I can't stop.. oooh I-I'm so sick *frrrrrrrt*... too much- *ggrrup*... " He whined.

Cal rolls over, and with a huff of effort, he manages to prop himself up on his hands and knees, his belly hanging low and heavy between his thighs as he kneels. He lowers his head into his arms, and lets out a low, pathetic moan into them. His belly, now almost touching the ground, is making so many noises, a constant roar of gurgles, squelches, and rumbles, along with the occasional painful burble. "Aughhhhhh... *urp*... god, this sucks.. I'm so bloated... aahh..."

Cal's head sinks into his arms as his stomach tosses and turns deep inside, and his backside suddenly sputters softly.

*ff-ff-ffrrrrrrrpfff*, a slow, long, barely audible fart, sounding as if air's just oozing out of him.

It lasts a few seconds at least, followed by another rumble from his lower tummy and more gas on its way. "Uhhgh... *p-frrfffffp-blorp*.. hnnn-... oh god... oh god what's happening..." he whines into his arms. "Why cant I stop- *urrrppppp*.." he burps again, but the burp is the least of his concerns as air is rushing to the opposite end of his body. *ffrrpppp* Cal's stomach bubbles and gurgles again, and another round of gas slips out like he's a leaky balloon.

Cal's body trembles as he keeps himself in this position, kneeling with his legs spread and stomach hanging low, while he just lets more gas pour unhindered from his behind. *fpfpffpffpffrttt* he can feel the fart as it works its way out of his body, slowly and wetly through the cramped, tight tunnels of his innards. He lets out a moan of discomfort, and his stomach rumbles again. "stop... stop...." he whimpers, but the only responses he gets is the soft, constant *f-ffrrfffrfrrpt*

With the farts still pouring out of him, Cal begins to notice that many of them are no longer dry and quick air releases. Instead, what comes out of him is quick and wet. *pbffftt* and a lot of them are followed by tiny, faint squelching sounds when they finally fade out, which fills him with dread.

He grips his stomach with one hand in an attempt to press down his gurgling bowels. "Uh oh... oh god, I- I think I just...."

*blopfff-fprrreeesshhht*... sure enough, Cal's body is rushing to get rid of the slop within. *fobppt*... *f-pfpt... pfftt* His stomach gurgles even louder now, and he hiccups into his arms as his body trembles and struggles to hold everything back, meanwhile small toots snuck out as he quickly forced himself up and out of the downward-dog position.

.. the camera is shaky as Cal finally is back into a seated position on the floor, miraculously avoiding a potential accident. "okay.. okay *uurp* this is definitely where I'm gonna need to cut it.. oooh. ... ... unless.."

Cal gets up and sets the camera down on the counter next to the toilet, facing away from him. He quickly takes off his shorts and sits down on the seat, but covers his lap up with his shorts laid over top of it so nothing.. personal.. shows on camera.

Cal shakily reaches out and turns the camera, exposing his lap and stomach to the lens, now that he was in the safety of the bathroom and even safer on the toilet. His tummy looks like a bloated bowling ball sitting in his lap, his shorts tucked underneath part of his tummy, which is rounded and gurgling with gas while he holds it and rocks his body. "Mmmnnn... *grrrr....uuuuuurp* I-.. I feel so... uughh...." Cal strains and grasps a handful of the shirt covering his tummy "*p-frrrrrrrt*.. oooooh... oooooohh... I can already tell *ggrrruuurp* 'm gonna be here all night.. ow.. *phhhtttrrft-fffft... bprraaapt.. br*rpt.."

"Oooh my god... just... look at my belly..." He holds his stomach tenderly and runs his hands across it in slow circles, his stomach churning loudly and shifting with every bubble of air that moves around in there. "I feel so *bluuurrrp*... *fffppprrt*... s-so full." He groans and leans back a bit, rubbing his distended middle.

"This is the biggest I think I've ever been, and... it's so uncomfortable.. *urp* I can't stop burping and farting, it's so gross-"

As if emphasizing his point, Cal's sentence was cut off by a nasty wet burp that ended abruptly as his throat reflexively closed up to keep everything down.

"Oh that tasted terrible.. uugghhh my stomach hurts.. b-boiling..." *blggrrrrgggle* Cal's tummy let out an ominous rumble. "oh shit.."

He reached to his side and tried to lift the small bathroom trash can beside the toilet into his lap before realizing his tummy was in the way. He groaned, lowering it momentarily and pushing out a few more farts that echoed off the toilet bowl, before holding the trash bin up to his face with one hand while the other pulled up his shirt and frantically rubbed the taut skin on his tummy "I.. I can't- video's over, sorry.. *brrpppp* g-gonna be sick.. *hic*-oh.."

The video ends there, the whole ordeal having lasted over half an hour.

After a long, rough night of cramps, nausea, gas, and stressful expulsions of his stomach contents from both ends, Cal was feeling better... or at least better enough to go to sleep... on the bathroom floor.

…

A few days have passed since then. Cal is sat down at a desk in his room and opened up his recording software, staring at the files from the recording earlier. "That was... a rough one. Maybe I shouldn't have filmed. It's really embarrassing... but I mean... the viewers like it when you're more real like that..."

A flush spreads quickly across his face. "yeah.. yeah! I mean who else has ever uploaded such a raw vulnerable moment–and so much happened, it would be such a waste to just.. NOT share..."

Cal had known for a long time that he was into belly stuff, lurking online in various forums and websites. He usually uploaded photos or very short videos, but this one was a longer, MUCH more intense video than he was used to. He never really did have any real intent of not posting it eventually, he just needed some time to recover, he thought.

*click*

The video was uploaded, and soon enough views poured in, slowly but surely.

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

Leo was the same age as Cal, maybe a year or two difference, he assumed. They were both in their 20s, he knew that much. He'd been following CalAx_111's channels for… years, by now. He'd watched how he'd slowly moved from oddly tummy-focused thirst traps and into more and more fetish-related content, and Leo was into it as much as all the other fans. He's grown a sizable collection of videos and was a frequent viewer/consumer of this type of content and very active in the community, albeit anonymously.

Seeing a new video pop up, and with such a long time-stamp? Leo's interest was piqued, to say the least.

He quickly clicked on the new upload.

...

Not even 7 minutes in, Leo was already sweatily pausing the video and yanking off his headphones as he came down from a familiar high, and as an even more familiar guilt set in.

He sighs as he lays back and buries his face in his hands, avoiding looking at the screen and the contents on it now, shaking his head. "I.. I'm such a freak.."

"Why do I like this... why cant I just get off like a normal person for once... fuck!" Leo moves his hands away from his face and rests them at his sides, spreading his arms thoughtlessly across his empty bed. Reminded once again of his loneliness.

His body is buzzing, still tingling from what he'd just seen and done.

"...I have to get a goddamn grip on myself. This is why I'll die alone— I'm not even able to get excited by normal things!.. I.."

He sighs and sits back up.

The glow of his computer screen at the end of his bed drawing him back, the video still paused, so much of it still left unwatched...

Leo hastily downloaded the video onto his computer, saving it inside of a (hopefully) well-hidden folder on his desktop. He gives up his routine self-scolding, for tonight at least. He knows damn well this is going to become a very familiar and frequently-used video for him.

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

Ooooh, plot twist, huh? Cal and Leo actually kind of met online long before they met in real life, but only Leo figures this out (not anytime soon, but for sure a short while after this fic,, I'm thinking Leo had a hint of deja vu the whole time they live together "his burps sounded weirdly familiar... his belly looked familiar too, with the freckle by the.. wait.. haven't I heard the name "Cal" somewhere before.. oh my god, its him, isn't it?!")

Feedback is appreciated! I spent like 4 hours working on the html for the colored text... guh. I already have a third fic in the works, and it's more lore-heavy than kinky (obviously I'm gonna keep writing kink though, lol. Don't worry), so let me know if you're actually interested in these characters and would care to read more about them!

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bendyartistic · 3 months ago

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Be Aware of alexbstudios. (Part 2) TW: uh.. slur, sui mention.

Recently I've been requested by some people to make another awareness post about Alex, and what has been going on since I made my last callout. So.. let's take a look. I'm gonna be honest I have been paying little to no attention to him at all since my post up until this point, didn't think I'd have to.

Ever since I made it, Alex has been talking about me a lot more, and it feels much more obsessive in a way. I think it's funny but also pretty weird considering some of the things he's said about me. Eugh.

Anyways let's get to the stuff from after my callout to the present. This is just a rundown of everything, and there is some stuff I skipped since I didn't feel it was worth mentioning. Once my post had been made, a lot of people went over and said stuff to him (Though I didn't encourage that behavior, I only wanted to make my post so people knew about him, I'm not covering those unless it's important in this.) Little afterwards he made this... post. Erh, are you stalking me and other people?? ALSO don't say the r slur man, like what.

I find it really creepy that he has this list, and has notes along with them about why/who they are. Also why'd he spell my partners name like that? 💀 Next a little after that he reblogged someone's art and introduction saying this. (I don't want to really @ people in this, nor get anyone involved unless they asked to be.)

I still don't understand how Alex views me, but saying this in a reblog no less is so strange. Reblogging another post, saying this with it...

You're right Alex, I didn't need you in my life, yet here we are. Unfortunately. Besides that, no, 12 year old's should NOT be on Tumblr at all, even with restrictions, said restriction should be having the app blocked from their device.

I'm just gonna.. move on from that. Alex reblogged an art post, where he proceeded to @ over 50 people, myself included, saying "surely you can see the problem". I can't fit the entire thing sadly. I don't get what the point in these posts are honestly, besides annoy everyone. He's done it before as well. He got into a small bit of beef with a handful of folk not too long ago, which I got @'ed in at some point I think, didn't really pay much attention to it. Basically the original post is someone talking about art supplies and asking what one's other people use, which I personally think was a very neat post. Alex comes around though for some reason going off on nonsense. Hello? Who invited you!? (Again, censoring names cuz I don't want to get ppl involved.)

I'm honestly kind of wondering why he even showed up. He pretty soon after made this dumb post as if it could have some effect on the situation.. uh?

I guess mark your calendars guys for this date, where we have to immediately forget everything and forgive him! /j And there's this response he gave to an anon responding to his ✨patience✨ post.

Dunno, so far it hasn't because he's still talking about it, so clearly he hasn't gotten over it enough to let it blow over.

He's giving me those like.. stupid sigma edit vibes sometimes. Y'know what I'm talking about? Yeah. Also I'm not sure what to say about this really, but it's pretty funny.

Context for this next one: You and the person on your lockscreen fight god..? That's a weird one.

Wdym racist though? 🤨 Genuinely kinda curious about that. Btw wouldn't that make you like.. 9?? On a different note, I saw him previously talk about this "friend" he has going to a mental hospital, but I know nothing about it, nor do I really want to, however reblogging on an art post saying this feels off. Think the emotes are what do it.

Don't joke about mental hospitals at all, I shouldn't have to explain why. I'm going to move on from all the short stuff now because I do wanna start talking instead of making short joking comments.

Alex made this post, and so it begins with him talking about me again, eh?

Alex, you're already doomed. I can't put it any other way but from what I've seen maybe only 1 or 2 people even like you. The rest either hate you or want to avoid you at all cost, and I don't blame them at all considering you act like a fool and make everyone uncomfortable.

For my thoughts on you? I don't like you, never did. I just have to put up with you because this is the internet, and you'll probably never truly leave me alone like I once hoped. It's a shame honestly that you cannot follow a simple request from anyone. Don't think I don't know about your planned "response post" you're making, I'm still waiting for it. I don't know what good it's gonna do you though. Personally I don't care if you make one, I'd just read it to see the stuff you make up in it lol. (Edit: He decided to stop working on it after seeing this post lol.)

Enough of my rambling, I should continue with this so I can stop talking about him sooner. Regrettably I had to actually look up what this was about, I felt.. iffy reading it.

Saying gyatt right afterwards wasn't funny. At all. I'm quite upset now. There was absolutely no reason for that.

I was gonna be reasonable and say something genuine but I don't feel like it anymore, this ruined my mood. All I have to say is as much as I dislike you, don't actually do that. Sadly moving to the next nonsensical thing, he made a poll post asking this. (It's still ongoing btw)

Are people like.. forced into giving a reason? Like if I for example chose Bendy, am I immediately supposed to state my reasons? What if I don't want to, are we being held at gunpoint? What's up with that? I'm too lazy to interact with the post, I don't really feel like it anyways even if I wasn't lazy. Which one would you choose though lol I'm going to be serious now again cause this last thing is really just.. what the fuck. Palestine related 🍉, someone asking for help came to Alex, and this was his response to it...

MY GOD Alex. Did you really have to respond to that in this immature, insensitive fucking manner? Could it have not been in one of your stupid rambling posts. It should've been. I'm sorry to the person and I'm sorry I had to read it. You're pretty sick honestly. You need help.

That's it. I'm done.

In conclusion:

Alex is still the same and is still never going to change probably. He still shouldn't be here and I believe he really should get off now more than ever. If not I fear what else he might do next.

All I can really tell you folks is please, DNI with Alex, just leave him alone and block him. You're again not obligated to, but I am suggesting it if you want to be left alone by him. And hey, maybe you'll make it onto his dumb creepy list too, who knows. Alright, I'm finished, I stayed up way too late for this... I'm tired. Cya.

Reblogs are much appreciated, it helps spread the word, thanks.

#Please dni with alex.#callout post #call out post #be aware #tw #idk what to tag this as #ghost and pals #I wish he would just go away already.#ugh #thanks to the people who suggested I give an update though.#my post

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bumblebugwrites · 2 years ago

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Are You Mine?

Pairing: Anthony Lockwood x fem!Reader

Summary: For as long as you could remember you and Lockwood had butted heads. Always getting on each other’s nerves, getting in each other’s ways. You basically hate each other. Right?

Warnings: Canon typical violence, Cursing, Angst (like lowkey)

Word Count: 3.8k

If there existed within the planes of this earth a man more detestable than Anthony Lockwood, you had been lucky enough to avoid making his acquaintance. Though Quill Kipps may have made for a close second, you would rather spend an hour locked in a room alone with the latter than fifteen minutes solo with Lockwood in the kitchen of your own home. It had always been that way, with some minor exceptions and though time managed to cool some of the ever-raging conflict between you, you never quite saw eye to eye.

It was a well-known fact that you and George came as a package deal. The brains and his bodyguard, that’s what Lockwood called you. And for what it was worth, it wasn’t too far from the truth. You were, always had been, a strike first, ask questions later kind of girl. Where George had the perspective and the research to see the world in shades of gray, your situation forced you to see only in black and white. Maybe that’s why you and Lockwood had always hated each other so much. Everything was always an act with him, and you simply didn’t have the time to peel back the layers.

From your very first meeting two weeks after George was fired and you quit to ensure his safety, your chances at friendship had been dismal. The pair of you had been staying in a small, rundown hotel with what little money you could spare from your previous stint of employment, getting by on only one meal a day, a small black coffee passed back and forth and one half of a bagel each. It was miserable to say the least. Needless to say, not many people were looking to hire a fired Fittes employee and his weary sidekick. Then, on the second Tuesday since your loss of employment, George found Lockwood’s ad in the papers and after calling and being informed that you would be given the chance to interview immediately you couldn’t help the small plum of hope that settled deep within your chest at the opportunity. George on the other hand was ecstatic, fantasizing eagerly about his first meal post hiring before even setting foot in the door. That is until it opened, revealing a boy no older than you, outfitted in a freshly pressed suit.

“Mr. Lockwood?” George questioned, as you held back taking him in.

“That’s me, come in.” He signaled you forward with a smile so dazzling you were forced to avert your eyes. Your gaze fixed itself on the ground instead, taking note of the unsullied sill and the doormat, that’s edges aligned themselves perfectly with the jambs on either side. It was pristine. Alarmingly so.

“I take it we’re your first interview of the day?” The boy looked caught off guard by the sound of your voice, but quickly readjusted his features into an easy grin.

“The rest were here yesterday, so you’ve just missed them.” You quirked a doubtful brow but remained silent and followed as he beckoned you forward into what looked to be a small library of sorts.

“Normally I do my interviews one-on-one,” Lockwood spoke, looking back and forth between the two of you as you sat shoulder to shoulder on the couch. You felt George shift uncomfortably to your left.

“Well, we’re a package deal. We come together or not at all.” The phrase weighed on your tongue as it left your mouth. You’d been using it all week and where at first it felt simple, some sort of obvious truth, it was growing harder and harder to use. Especially when George had his parents to rely on and you had, well, nothing.

“Right… Well, the tests don’t work quite as well when you’re both in the room.” George leaned over, squeezing your hand in a signal that all would be well, before standing up to move to the hallway.

“That’s fine, I’ll wait my turn.”

After a series of demonstrations regarding your Talent, easily passed as you’d always had a fairly strong sense of Sight and a long wait in the hall for George’s turn, you were back in the room once more.

“Right then, that’s all I’ve really got for today, so you can be on your way, and I’ll be back to you tomorrow with my decision,” Lockwood smiled, leaning back into his armchair.

“Tomorrow?”

“(Y/N)--” George attempted to place a soothing hand on your shoulder, but you shook him off with ease.

“No. I want to know what is going on here.” Once more Lockwood’s brows arched in surprise, but he kept the remainder of his features under control this time.

“Excuse me?”

“You’re not excused. You have an ad in the papers calling yourself an agency, but you’re obviously just some sad excuse of a one-man operation, sorry one-boy operation. I mean do you even have a Supervisor?”

“Well–”

“Oh, never mind that, because worse yet, you’ve been lying to us since the moment we set foot in the door. There haven’t been any other interviews, have there Mr. Lockwood? And you had better tell me the truth because I don’t appreciate having my time wasted.”

“You do realize I’m the one conducting this interview? As in I have the power to employ you, or not.” The boyish facade vanished in only a moment and the clear hint of a threat laced his tone, but it didn’t matter, because you were outraged. Act first, think later, right? Your hand flew without hesitation to the rapier at your side and within a moment it was drawn and swinging directly towards the boy in front of you. Not to harm of course, just to return the threat. But he was fast, faster than you’d realized, and by the time your blade was making its descent, he had risen from his seat to meet it with his own.

“I highly doubt you would like to face the implications of attacking me in my own home.”

“I was just leaving anyways.” You resheathed your sword in one quick motion, and began your warpath towards the door, George calling out after you. He caught your arm just as you reached your destination.

“(Y/N) please. He’s actually considered us, that’s more than we can say for any other place.”

“I am not here to be to entertain the fantasies of some boy who’s decided to play grown up for the day.”

“Come on, this seems real enough, he’s certified and everything. Besides, we’re running out of options, and you know it–”

“We can find another–”

“We can’t. I could always go live with my parents, but it will take years for anyone to hire me after Fittes let me go. And you– Well I doubt any of those places from before will take you now, and it’s not like you have–”

“That’s enough George–” You cut him off as Lockwood appeared in the doorway to the library, a knowing look painted across his features. “We should just go. I’ve caused enough of a mess as is and it’s not like he’s making his decision any time soon.”

Your stature deflated as you reached once more for the exit.

“Actually, I made my decision the moment you both passed my test.” You and George spun around in unison. “You were right,” he said, hanging his head sheepishly, “there were no other interviews.”

“So, what are you saying?” It was George who spoke, but Lockwood kept his eyes fixed on you as he made his answer.

“I’m saying you’ve got the job.”

Since then, you and Lockwood had come to a sort of understanding: as long as George was safe you would do anything he asked. Any job, any task, no matter how dangerous. Still, that didn’t mean you would take his shit either, a fact he picked up on rather quickly, and though he never let you in completely, a trait that went both ways, he told you enough to gain your trust and you returned the favor.

And so it went in the year before Lucy came. You weren’t friends, necessarily, but you knew at the end of the day he had your back, and in return, you had his.

Still, Lucy’s arrival made the waters more murky, as she went about breaking down walls like they were nothing. One night, Lockwood happened upon the pair of you in your shared bedroom, giggling like schoolgirls at a story from your youth, splayed out across the attic bed in identical fits of laughter and though you missed it, Lucy told you in a barely audible whisper that night of how his gaze had lingered on your scrunched up face. How his eyes had softened. How for a moment, the dark circles beneath his eyes seemed to vanish as he stood there in awe. Just a boy looking at a girl. No more, no less.

“You should have seen his smile,” she whispered, her body turned to face yours beneath the covers of the queen.

“Trust me I’ve seen the ‘Lockwood Smile’ more than enough in one year of acquaintanceship,” you huffed out a laugh, rolling your eyes.

“No, no. It wasn’t like that. It was– He looked so–” She sat up then hands flying at the air as though they might grasp the words she was trying to say.

“He almost looked like a kid. So… unburdened. It was pretty disturbing actually.” She broke off with a laugh. “Look I can’t explain it, but it was like he was actually happy and not just using his dashing good looks to get whatever he desires.” You rolled your eyes at the final bit, but tucked the rest away deep within your heart, stashing it beside that single plum of hope from that very first day on his doorstep.

By the following morning the whole thing was nothing more than a distant memory. You stood, pouring yourself a coffee, watching George scribble away at his notes on your current case when, Lockwood slipped by, swiping the mug from right under your nose.

“That was for me.”

“Well, I pay for everything in this house.” He smirked from behind your steaming cup.

“You don’t even like coffee.” Without breaking eye contact, Lockwood took a long sip and physically incapable of suppressing his reaction scrunched his brow in disgust. Then, parting the drink from his lips he smiled.

“Delicious.”

“You’re such an ass, now I’m going to have to brew another pot.” He shrugged off your inconvenience and took the seat beside George at the table. After putting another pot on, you joined the pair, ditching your previous research in favor of etching your new mantra into the tablecloth. Anthony Lockwood is a pompous ass. Anthony Lockwood is a pompous ass.

“What have you got so far George?” Lockwood questioned, setting down the mug in his hand after just one more sip.

“Nothing out of the ordinary. Just a Type One I think, probably a Lurker.”

“Excellent, Luce and I should be able to handle that on our own.”

“Lucy? I’m sat right here.” You glared across the table, daring the coffee thief to disagree with you.

“Besides you know my swordsmanship is superior even if she is basically the Stephen Hawking of ghost hunting.”

“Which is why she needs the practice.”

“And there is a wonderful place for her to do so in the basement. Come on Lockwood, it’s like you won’t let me go anywhere since–”

“Since the last time when you acted like a bumbling idiot and almost got yourself maimed?”

“I had the situation completely under control.”

“You fell down a staircase.”

“You can’t keep me on house arrest for forever.” Lockwood groaned and drew a frustrated hand across his face.

“Fine, but if you screw up like that again I’m locking you in the archives with George myself.” With that he withdrew, coffee abandoned on the table. Dragging it towards your person you let out a deep huff.

“It’s like he doesn’t trust me at all.”

“Or maybe he just cares about you?” George suggested, but quickly averted his eyes following a threatening glare thrown in his direction.

It was late when you reached the house, later than you would have liked. Lockwood had forgotten his rapier, so you’d had to turn back, though you had a suspicion it was some sort of ploy to get you to stay home and let Lucy go instead. Still, you held your ground and remained patient. Well as patient as you could.

“Lockwood, what the fuck. You said this place was ten minutes away, that was a thirty-minute metro ride. Not to mention the fact that that man beside us was trying to look down my shirt the whole way here.” You shivered at the thought but continued to fix Lockwood with a glare as you spoke. Through your anger you almost missed the slight shift in his demeanor at the second comment.

“Well, we’re here now are we not? Besides, it’s only a Type One, we’ll be fine.”

You were not fine. Within only a moment of stepping foot inside you felt the temperature drop dramatically.

“Lockwood–”

“I felt it too.” His face twisted into a more serious expression. Still, you continued inside to further assess the threat. Dropping your bags several feet inside the entryway, you crouched almost immediately to sift through them for the filings when from across the house, a shadowy figure flew by.

“(Y/N)--”

“One second, you did an absolute rubbish job of organizing the kit, I can’t find the filings anywhere.”

“(Y/N), really–”

“I said just a second Lockwood–” But he cut you off by using two fingers to drag your chin upwards, fixing your gaze upon the glowing figure lying in wait across the room.

“That is definitely not a Lurker.”

“No shi–” Lockwood was cut off as the ghost unleashed an unearthly scream, launching itself towards the pair of you. The boy beside you was quick to draw his blade and, tucking yourself into a small ball, you rolled deftly out of the way in an attempt to attack the Type Two from behind. Pulling your rapier from its sheath, you took a defensive position as Lockwood struck at the figure from in front. After causing the ghost to dissipate into thin air his eyes quickly sought yours out.

“We need to locate the Source. Now.” With a shared nod, the pair of you began to advance throughout the remainder of the house. Upon entering the kitchen, something caught your eye immediately.

“Lockwood, look.” You pointed your rapier in the direction of what appeared to be a hand carved cuckoo clock, hung high on the wall. “He was a clockmaker, right? That’s what the file said.”

“That has to be it.” Lockwood nodded in agreement. Moving at a slow and measured pace, you advanced on the clock, before realization hit and you grabbed Lockwood by the arm.

“The net–” You stopped short as a glow began to form in the upper corner of the kitchen.

“Go, I’ll handle it,” Lockwood ordered and with a final concerned glance in the direction of the ever-expanding light, you set off in a run down the hall. Distant clattering sounds informed you that the ghost had made its appearance in the other room, and you pushed forward harder, now at a sprint.

Skidding to a halt, you all but dumped out the entire bag of kit in your effort to locate the silver net, before grasping its cool material and spinning on your heel. Distantly, you thought you heard Lockwood call your name, though any reason as to why was beyond you until your eyes caught on the ghostly figure just before you.

Easily dodging its first attempt to harm you, you slid past its grip and through the doorway to the hall. It followed close behind and as your feet pounded against the wood floor, you could feel the atmosphere around you grow colder by the second. Flying in a panicked fury through the doorway to the kitchen, you just managed to catch Lockwood’s eye before an unseen force threw you against the counter. Your head hit the marble edge. Hard. And in a single moment you crumbled to the ground.

All sound in the room became distant, including the noise of several items on the counter’s smooth surface being dislodged with your impact. And then, in a tone you’d never heard before, Lockwood’s voice cut through all the muffled, pounding noise.

“(Y/N)!” Your head jerked up just in time to watch as the knife peeking out over the counter teetered over the edge. In a single moment of clarity, you angled your body towards the ground, clasping your head with your hands. A piercing pain laced your shoulder and you let out a scream. Distantly, you noticed Lockwood, backed into a corner, swinging wildly with his rapier, fear etched deep within his normally steady features. That was all it took.

Ignoring the sharp pounding of your head, you reached back to dislodge the knife, pulling it from the deep, now severely bleeding wound in your shoulder. It took most of your energy not to call out in pain at the action, but you knew it would only shift the ghost’s attention back to you. Dragging yourself across the floor, you snatched the net from the ground before using the wall to pull yourself up.

Three things happened at once then. Lockwood’s eyes fixed on you from behind the ghost, wide with concern and something else you couldn’t quite place. Simultaneously, your hand made contact with the clock, instantly alerting the ghost to your presence. Finally, the Type Two turned on you.

In one fell movement, you wrenched the clock from the wall, just as the ghost launched itself in your direction and covered it with the net, the creature disappearing mere inches from your face. Lockwood took a breath. It was mesmerizing, though you couldn’t understand why, that moment of quiet. And then you began to sway.

“Lock–” But the name died in your throat as you began your descent towards the cold linoleum floor. You were out before you hit the ground, though not before you felt the comfort of two arms as they wrapped themselves around you, breaking your fall.

It had been two weeks and Lockwood could still barely look at you. By the time you awoke in the hospital, he was gone, though George and Lucy had stayed, tangled up with you in the hospital bed, a mess of sleeping limbs. Once they awoke, you questioned the pair on the absence.

“Where’s Lockwood?”

“Said he was too busy to wait for you to wake up,” mumbled George bitterly, but Lucy only chided the other boy.

“He was worried sick about you, really. It’s just, well you know. He’s Lockwood.” You smiled at Lucy’s words, but a seed of disappointment planted itself firmly in your gut.

Your arrival back at 35 Portland Row was not much better. Lockwood remained hidden away in the library as Lucy and George helped you through the door.

And so, the first week continued. Wordless breakfasts in the kitchen, cold greetings in the hall. One time after you accidentally grazed his side in passing, he physically flinched away.

On the eleventh day, you found yourself near tears with the behavior.

“I think he hates me, Lucy.”

“Lockwood could never hate you.”

It was day twelve of Lockwood’s one-sided standoff when you caught him in the kitchen alone near two in the morning.

“Could you make me a cup?” You’d questioned, coming up behind him to search the cupboard for some bread as he poured himself a cup of tea. Nothing. Not even a glance.

“Come on Lockwood, it’s been days, can you just drop it? I’m fine.” Still no response. No matter. You’d always known how to get a rise out of Anthony Lockwood.

Waiting until he’d set the kettle down to reach for some sugar, you moved quickly, sandwiching yourself between the counter and the boy. For the first time in days, his eyes met yours, though he dismissed the moment with a quick huff and reached once more for the cabinet above your head. You gave him a shove.

“Fuck you Lockwood, talk to me.” His eyes glinted in a warning, but he made no effort to speak. He didn’t move a muscle. You shoved him harder.

“Talk to me you prick.” He caught your wrists in his hands as you pulled back for another shove and gripped them tightly.

“Say something!” As you struggled against him to give one final push, your shoulder caught at an odd angle and the searing pain from your still healing wound nearly sent you crumpling to the ground. Nearly. As you began to curl in on yourself, Lockwood removed his hands from your wrists and caught you by the waist.

“You’re going to reopen the gash on your shoulder.” He chided, his tone cold, but his arms continued to hold you in place.

“I know that you hate me. And that’s fine. But this– The silence, it’s too much… It hurts too much.”

“You’re an idiot. You acted recklessly and without forethought. You could have died. You could have gotten yourself killed–”

“I was just–”

“I’m not finished,” he continued, his hold on you tightening, “you jeopardized the entire mission with your actions–”

“I saved your life!”

“I had it under control–”

“Oh, like I did with the staircase?”

“I should never have brought you.”

“Because you hate me? Yeah, I know.”

“Because you are nothing but a distraction.” You froze. Body rigid in his hold. He pushed on.

“Because all I could think about the entire time we were in that house was you. If you were safe, if you were– if you were alive.” One of Lockwood’s hands traveled carefully from your waist to your cheek.

“It’s all I’ve been able to think about since the staircase. It’s why I couldn’t bear to go on any missions with you, it’s why I nearly made you George’s bloody research assistant, it’s why– it’s why I nearly fell apart when I watched you hit that oven– when I saw that knife about too–”

You could hear his breaths becoming labored and his grip tightened once more as his eyes clouded with the anxiety of distant memories.

“Hey. I’m fine.” You reassured him, bringing a hand up to caress his face. “I’m okay, really.”

“I think I’m– I care about you, so much it hurts.”

And there it was, the boyish face Lucy had seen that night in the attic. Young and afraid. Completely unguarded. You really couldn’t help kissing him.

Bunching the fabric of his shirt in your hand, you pulled his lips down to meet yours, and though surprise initially stilled his mouth, he quickly pulled you closer, kissing deeper, pressing forward to meet you. His hand curled gently in your hair, his other arm pulling you closer, closer, as though if he loosened his grip, you would simply slip away. You only pulled back to catch your breath though you could barely convince yourself to do that much as his lips followed after yours, looking to meet again.

“I love you too Anthony Lockwood.”

#anthony lockwood #lockwood #lockwood and co #anthony lockwood x reader #lockwood x reader #lockwood and co fanfiction #anthony lockwood fanfiction #lockwood and co netflix #x reader

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wisteria-lodge · 3 months ago

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I’d love if you ever expanded your thoughts on the way JKR writes romance, because it’s something I’ve been thinking about for a while. One thing that’s very interesting to me is that jealousy is used as a driving force for both of the main romantic storylines in HP. It’s more obvious with Ron/Hermione (the Yule Ball, basically everything that happens between them in book 6, the locket horcrux stuff) but also plays a big role in Harry/Ginny. Harry’s jealousy of her relationship with Dean is what makes him realize he’s into her, and moments where he’s pining for Ginny tend to focus on that jealousy more than an actual appreciation of Ginny’s personality. The most important part of writing a convincing romance is making readers believe that these characters actually care about each other and want to spend time together, and it feels like maybe what you describe as JKR’s obsession with pining made her lose sight of that. What do you think?

We've also got jealousy as a motif in Harry/Cho and Severus/Lily. It is absolutely a trope she uses, a lot.

When I was trying to get my head around how JKR writes romance, the main thing that made it click for me was realizing that, to her - romance is inherently threatening. And/or embarrassing, overpowering, animalistic, dangerous. (thanks to @the-phoenix-heart for that line.)

Really, the Harry Potter books are kind of a romance-free zone. It is incredibly unusual to see a romantic couple, acting like a couple, on the page. We spend a lot of time with Arthur and Molly, and while they’re both pretty fleshed out as characters, we get almost nothing of their couple dynamic (and what we do get doesn’t seem all that positive…) The blocking tends to physically separate them - Molly isn’t at the World Cup or Harry’s hearing, Arthur is working overtime when Harry is at the Burrow, etc. This is a pattern: her romantic couples, of which there are not many, have a way of being in different rooms, on different side quests, one of them is mind-controlled, one of them is unconscious, it cuts to black right before Harry kisses Cho, and right after he kisses Ginny.

Ron/Hermione takes place mostly outside of Harry’s perspective, and Harry/Ginny takes place mostly out of *the reader's* perspective. It’s a lot of narration, a lot of “Harry could not help himself talking to Ginny, laughing with her, walking back from practice with her” and “[Harry] was supposedly finishing his Herbology homework but in reality reliving a particularly happy hour he had spent down by the lake with Ginny at lunchtime.” Like, I don’t know. I might have liked to see those scenes play out.

Bill/Fleur is probably her most successful couple (I mean, who doesn't like Bill and Fleur?) But even they almost never interact with each other. They talk about their relationship to other people, other people talk about them, but like… I’m just going to go through a rundown of every single time we see Bill and Fleur interact:

“’E is always so thoughtful,” purred Fleur adoringly, stroking Bill’s nose. Ginny mimed vomiting into her cereal behind Fleur. Harry choked over his cornflakes.

(Romance = embarrassing)

What if [Ron and Hermione] became like Bill and Fleur, and it became excruciatingly embarrassing to be in their presence, so that he was shut out for good?

(Romance = embarassing, threatening)

Most [of the people at Dumbledore’s funeral] Harry did not recognize, but a few he did, including (...) Bill supported by Fleur and followed by Fred and George

(put a pin in this one, I’m going to come back to it)

“Bah,” said Fleur [in Harry’s body], checking herself in the microwave door, “Bill, don’t look at me — I’m ’ideous.”

(I actually think this is kind of cute in context, but unfortunately JKR is being uncharitable to her hyper-femme characters again, and making a joke about woman-in-male-body, which unfortunately makes it less cute in the grand scheme of things)

“I’m taking Fleur on a thestral,” said Bill. “She’s not that fond of brooms.” Fleur walked over to stand beside him, giving him a soppy, slavish look that Harry hoped with all his heart would never appear on his face again.

(Romance = embarrassing)

“We saw [Mad-Eye die]” said Bill; Fleur nodded, tear tracks glittering on her cheeks...

(Not sure if this counts as them interacting, but they are at least next to each other)

“No,” said Bill at once, “I’ll do it, I’ll come.” “Where are you going?” said Tonks and Fleur together. “Mad-Eye’s body,” said Lupin. “We need to recover it.”

(this one doesn’t even frame them as a couple, since the teams have split into Bill and Lupin and Tonks and Fleur.)

“We can’t tell you what we’re doing,” said Harry flatly. “You’re in the Order, Bill, you know Dumbledore left us a mission. We’re not supposed to talk about it to anyone else.” Fleur made an impatient noise, but Bill did not look at her.”

(... does this imply that Fleur isn’t in the Order? Anyway, they’re married at this point, and kinda disagreeing a la Molly and Arthur)

[Griphook] continued to request trays of food in his room, like the still frail Ollivander, until Bill (following an angry outburst from Fleur) went upstairs to tell him that the arrangement could not continue.

(Another conflict, but hey, at least it sounds like they resolved it. We hear about their daughter Victoire in the epilogue, but this is the last time we see Bill and Fleur together.)

But, okay. Not putting romance in the Harry Potter books is a perfectly fine creative choice. JKR can absolutely decide she just wants to give other things more emotional weight. What clarified this for me was the Fantastic Beasts films and her adult literature (particularly the Cormoran Strike books.) In those, JKR is wanting to write romance. And yet....

In Fantastic Beasts, she can write the awkward getting-to-know-you pre-romance stuff, but the second Jacob and Queenie are actually a couple - he loses his memory, then he’s brainwashed, she’s with Grindelwald, they’re different plot lines that never intersect… and then they just get married at the end of Secrets of Dumbledore. So it’s not even a slow-burn, will-they-won’t-they thing. Tina and Newt get the same treatment, except their pre-romance getting-to-know-you beats are so subtle that a lot of people missed them completely. Then Tina's angry at Newt for a very silly misunderstanding… then in a separate plotline… and is only in the third film for two minutes at the end. People compare the structure of these films to Indiana Jones, but in those movies the love interest is actually hanging out with Indy the whole time. In the Cormoran Strike books, the romantic leads do spend time together, but they’ve also been doing a pining, bad timing, will they/won’t they back-and-forth thing for seven books. And they’re long books.

So okay. What’s going on. Why is this.

JK Rowling has been very public about the trauma she has from abusive relationships and sexual assault, and I’m afraid I do have to bring that up in a conversation about why she treats romance so negatively. More specifically - if I had to guess - I think she finds male attraction towards women threatening. (I’m sure we all remember Harry’s chest monster.) I think she feels a little icky writing it, which is why when she does do it… it feels perfunctory, generic, repetitive, and also not the sort of thing that would come from a teenage boy. (Like when has a 14-year-old boy ever thought a girl was pretty because she had nice teeth. That’s such a straight girl compliment.) BUT, when she writes about the attractiveness of guys - it gets more specific, more nuanced, more interesting, and also a lot less uncomfortable. J.K. Rowling likes guys! She’s allowed.

But of course, she also tends to write male viewpoint characters, and I think this is why a lot of her guys (and Harry specifically) kinda read as queer to a lot of people. We’re told Harry is distracted by/attracted to Cho Chang… but is he though? Compared to the way “pretty boy” Cedric, or “sleek haired” Draco get under his skin?

I want to take a look at her adult romantic leads for a second. Because in Fantastic Beasts, she really did pull out all the stops to make Newt and Jacob as non-threatening as humanly possible. Newt is a gentle, pacifist, Doctor Dolittle-type conservationist who barely seems interested in women at all, and Jacob… is a Muggle baker. She pairs Newt with Tina, tough as nails American star auror. Jacob is with Queenie, who is constantly literally reading his mind. Which is an ability we’ve only seen with the most powerful wizards. These guys are not a threat to these ladies. In Queenie’s case, the power balance is tipped so insanely far in her direction that I’m a little bit worried for Jacob (and she does in fact, bewitch him into doing stuff.) I think JKR wrote her couples this way so any romance she wrote with them would also feel safe… and sadly I don’t think it worked. The most fleshed out couple dynamic we get is Dumbledore/Grindelwald, who have a coffee date and a duel in the third movie. But - that’s the one movie where she doesn’t have sole screenwriting credit, they’re exes, and they're also both GUYS, so she doesn’t have to worry about any kind of male/female power imbalance gunk, or put herself in the headspace of a guy being attracted to women.

Now I do want to talk about Cormoran Strike. Of all her non-threatening male love interests, this is the one who seems to work best for her. She’s stuck with him the longest, and it actually seems possible that we might get an actual romantic scene with him in the next book.

Here’s my theory. I think that when JKR was writing Goblet of Fire, and it came time to introduce the real Mad-Eye Moody - imprisoned in the bottom of his own trunk, weak, down a leg and an eye - something clicked. Because that is someone who is both entirely masculine, and entirely safe, and that makes him the perfect romantic figure. And I absolutely think she grabbed that archetype when it came to writing Cormoran Strike.

Basically, this character just is Mad-Eye Moody, only 15(ish) years younger, and non-magical. Strike is an ex-military cop who now freelances. He’s older than his love interest, he’s been around the block a few times. He’s gruff, but careful and kind, world-weary and grizzled, extremely capable, principled, tough, and just sort of hyper aware of what’s going on around him. He is also a bigger guy with some access weight who is not “conventionally attractive” - and for JKR this is a feature, not a bug. If your female character is into someone who is not *~*~handsome~*~* that means they’re cool, deep, not like other girls. Viktor Krum is not conventionally attractive, and (after the werewolf attack) neither is Bill. In fact “he now bore a distinct resemblance to Mad-Eye Moody.” JKR likes Mad-Eye Moody.

And you better believe that Cormoran Strike has a broken nose and a missing leg, just like Mad-Eye Moody. Strike’s prosthetic leg comes up a *lot.* I think it’s telling that the loving interaction we see between Bill and Fleur is her physically supporting him at Dumbledore's funeral post werewolf attack, and the loving little wrist squeeze we get between Lucius and Narcissa is right before Lucius hands his wand over. Basically, JKR likes someone who is sexy and capable and has a lot of presence, but who you get to take care of, and who… can’t chase you. Doesn’t pose a threat. That's the fantasy.

#hp #jkr critical #mad eye moody #cormoran strike #jacob kowalski #newt scamander #bill x fleur #bill weasley #harry x draco #harry x cedric #dumbledore x grindelwald #literary analysis #close reading #anti jkr

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emthimofnight · 9 months ago

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I love Stellar! She's so cute! Love your art, keep being amazing, et cetera, but also I have a question:

You mentioned that at the time of Stellar's, shall we say, adoption, Shadow and Sonic were still in their "it's complicated" rivals era. I'm guessing Shadow wasn't especially close to Sonic's friends either? And that kinda got me wondering: how do Sonic's friends feel about Stellar when she first arrives? Obviously they love her on sight, but like, does Tails feel weird that he's now basically Shadow's brother-in-law? Is Amy a little alarmed at the thought of Sonic and Shadow being responsible for a literal baby? Does Rogue foresee the inevitable Sonadow to follow? And so on ...

Idk, would love to know more about the early days and everyone's reactions.

EEEHEHEH thank you so much for the compliment!!! 🥰🥰🥰

And I'll give you a quick rundown on everyone's feelings immediately after Shadow brought Stellar home!

Rouge was the first to know, as she was actually present when Shadow discovered Stellar. The two of them had been tracking some leads about Project Stellar for a while, not realizing they were stumbling upon another attempt at Project Shadow until they were right on top of it. Rouge initially tried to reason with Shadow, recognizing his anger instantly and trying to convince him to let cooler heads prevail. She even tried to warn him against removing Stellar from her stasis pod, fearing that it was acting as some kind of life support and would kill her upon removal. Shadow decided to remove her regardless, deciding that either way, a life in the government's hands as a weapon was no life at all. Still, Rouge convinced him to take her straight to Sonic—and, more importantly—Tails, since he had the tools at his disposal to give Stellar a proper look over.

Sonic and Tails live together, so they were the next in line to find out. Shadow basically showed up looking like he was out for blood with a baby in his arms, demanding that Tails use his equipment to see if she was okay. Tails and Sonic both wanted more of an explanation (like, where did you get a baby, WHY do you have a baby, why do you look like you just got out of a fight, etc) and Shadow would begrudgingly tell them what he'd learned, clearly deeply uncomfortable with the entire conversation.

Well, to say they would both be shocked would be an understatement. Sonic would be at a loss for words, for once. Tails, ever the scientist, would immediately want to look over Stellar to see if Shadow was telling the truth. By the time Shadow had handed the baby over to Tails, Sonic's brain would have rebooted and the motor mouth would start up again.

He'd be in total disbelief, really. He'd just start yammering on about every question and concern that would come to mind.

"The government tried to make another you?? With ME?"

"Does that make me a dad? Does that make YOU a dad?? ARE WE DADS??"

"I can't take care of a baby, I don't even remember BEING a baby! What do babies even eat??"

Etcetera, etcetera. Shadow would just stand stiffly in a corner of Tails's workshop, laser focused on whatever tests Tails would be running on tiny baby Stellar. He would totally tune Sonic out, instead focusing on the barely noticeable rise and fall of Stellar's chest, petrified that she might stop breathing if he looked away.

Honestly, the first night would be VERY tense. Shadow would still be high strung from the rescue, Sonic would be trying to wrap his head around the whole idea, and Tails would be devoted to running all the tests he could on Stellar to try and get some answers.

Tails would determine she was healthy, showed no signs of requiring any kind of life support, and was definitely Shadow and Sonic's biological child. Half Shadow's DNA, half Sonic's.

He would also realize in his tests that her energy readings were off the charts. Whatever they had been cooking up in that lab wasn't good, and Stellar was almost like a living chaos emerald. He'd immediately be concerned about the implications of keeping her around, but Sonic would have come around by that point, deciding there was no way he and Shadow would be getting rid of her.

Shadow wouldn't be so sure. He'd suggest talking to Rouge, Amy, or Vanilla about being a mother to her instead, since he wouldn't be confident in his own abilities to raise a child. Sonic would be annoyed by that, pointing out that it would be pretty messed up to try and pass her off on anyone else. Vanilla and Rouge both have their own kids to worry about, and Amy lives in the Sol Dimension with Blaze most of the time. He'd reason that they should at least try. Besides, who could possibly understand her more than Shadow?

Eventually, they'd agree to try raising her as a team. It'd be a begrudging decision, but one they'd learn to live with. The two of them wouldn't be romantically involved at this point, either, so the two of them had a LOT of growing pains trying to figure out how to parent together. Getting a baby government assigned to you is one thing, but having to raise it with your rival is another!

Oh, and as for Amy, Knuckles, and the rest of the group? They'd almost all be horrified LOL! Stellar definitely received a rocky reception at first! They all grew to love her eventually, though.

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teatraps · 4 months ago

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Gotta rant about Edgar Valden rq

Cause seriously, his character is so cool to me. Like, you have the basic rundown. Rich kid ran away from home because he was dissatisfied with his life there. But then, all of that ends up just being a red herring. The “dissatisfaction” which always came off as him just being in his own head and looking down on others because he thinks he’s better than them gets flipped on its head with his 3rd letter. All of his trash talk makes so much more sense. He wasn’t just saying he didn’t care about other people’s opinions or money or fame because he was super self absorbed. He was saying that because he knew first hand the damage chasing money, fame, and power can cause. Really thinking about it, his father basically killed his entire family for status. And then, with the slight implication that Edgar’s dad knew what Sarai was doing to Edgar the whole time, he let his son get groomed by a man for over a decade and kept him on a payroll. Now, it’s vague about what Sarai did to Edgar, but it was obviously bad enough to deteriorate his mental health to the point of having hallucinations. All that, and his dad never got rid of Sarai. Never fired him. Nothing. Which makes sense, because having a super talented artist in the family looks good for their status. Probably covered up all the controversy their family had too. Why would his dad care? He couldn’t care enough to let his wife rest to get better from her illness, or to actually look for his youngest child when she went missing.

For the little we do know about Sarai, we know he taught Edgar that praise is the highest form of love. Again, playing into the idea that Edgar was brought up to try and appease others and try to get status and fame. This is even kinda hinted at in his very first letter when he tells Ella that he’s going to become a famous artist, a goal he ends up feeling disillusioned to. The fact he still kept painting even after no longer wanting fame and recognition shows his love for painting was rooted in something much deeper than that. Then, referencing back to his deductions where he says that life is beautiful and the brush can preserve that beauty, it shows exactly what it was that keeps him going with art. He thinks life is beautiful. A simple reason, but a lovely one nonetheless. He cherishes the beautiful moments like the time he had with his mother or Ella.

This also could change what he even meant by looking for inspiration when going to the manor. When he talks about how he finds no inspiration in his home, it’s not something as simple as everything is just boring. He talks about how the culture of the aristocracy is just straight up draining for him. The greed. The constant push for more money and status, even at the cost of loved ones. The shallowness. There’s no beauty in it, he can’t find inspiration in it. Even as he signs off his farewell letter, he implies he would never go back home. He’s not just running off on some little trip to find inspiration and go home right after. He was straight up cutting off the life he once knew because it wasn’t really a life at all. As he puts it, he was just another decoration for his dad. For most of his life, he was kind of treated as less than human. More like a party trick for his dad to show off and gain their family more status.

And while we don’t know much about his role in game 5, the context of the game makes him stand out a lot. Outside of the fact that Edgar wasn’t in a faction at the start and the only character truly confirmed dead, his goals are also completely different from the rest of the group and he thematically differs from the others. Every other character is in some way trying to fix some “issue” with themself to try to assimilate into a group they were ostracized from (I say issue in quotes because it’s usually something out of their control that they honestly shouldn’t have been blamed for). Chloe trying to become Vera to be accepted, Jose trying to get his first officer title back and rejoin the aristocracy (or his alcoholism in order to maintain his station as a first officer in the first place), Kevin trying to prove to himself that he’s reached a point where he could’ve protected Angelina so he can face her tribe, and Patricia trying to rid herself of her curse in order to be accepted into her mother’s village. Meanwhile, there’s Edgar who was wanted by his community, but not taken care of by them. All five of them have a similar goal, to get some form of community and support, but Edgar is in a much different position from the rest of his team since he is more confident in himself and who he is. It’s never been called into question, and I don’t think that’s a negative trait either since every time someone in game 5 tries to correct their “flaw” it causes more harm than good. From Chloe killing her sister who was innocent, to Jose accidentally poisoning Kevin who was innocent, Patricia killing Edgar even though he didn’t do anything to her, and even Kevin being self destructive in drinking the poison. Not to mention three out of four of them feel regret and unfulfilled after they do it (and the one I’m not counting is Patricia because it’s not fully confirmed, but tbh there are things that foreshadow her not feeling fulfilled either so you could make it four out of four). Edgar, at least on the surface, didn’t internalize that there was something wrong with him that made the people around him treat him like trash, mainly because he was always desired by the people around him. These people still weren’t good for him though, leading to the lack of inspiration they give him. As he says, he’s looking for “fresh colors” and Edgar only refers to colors when he’s talking about someone he cared for (his mom = green, Ella = white, Sarai = red). Edgar looking for fresh colors could probably roughly translate to looking for new companionship with people that actually care about him.

If I really wanted to get into the internalizing thing tho, I’d probably say his willingness to sacrifice himself probably comes from…

1. Being so used to getting treated like a tool his entire life he thinks it’s the standard to a degree (hence why he’ll complain about having to play hero roles but still gets them regularly anyway)

2. Being unable to truly repent to Patricia because he can’t bring himself to apologize for killing Sarai (and he shouldn’t tbh, especially considering that was like his first act of true autonomy)

3. And lastly, just not really having anywhere to go after the manor. His goalpost ended at the manor while the other four saw it more as a stepping stone to get to other places.

And that’s not even getting into his overall lore relevance because let’s not act like he didn’t imply the Deross family are family friends of the Valden family in his 3rd letter. PLUS he has ties to Barriere.

He’s always got this slightly hopeful air to him, like he still believes there’s something out there that can bring him the happiness and love he once had. It’s honestly just a really nice breather from the usual doom and gloom of idv’s storyline (granted his story is still depressing asf, but for idv standards it’s pretty happy. Like his 3rd letter where he just goes no contact with his dad is probably one of the healthiest things I’ve ever seen an idv character do). Even in the end, he gets the ending he wanted. He finds the inspiration he was looking for, but tbh I don’t think it was death that he was trying to achieve. His deaths are always portrayed as sacrifices specifically. It’s usually not something he really wants to do. Runaway didn’t want to risk his life and put himself in danger with mir, but he does it because he doesn’t want to abandon the followers to a cult. Censer didn’t want to die, he still really wanted to see his creator’s wish come true, but he accepts death if it will bring it closer to coming true. Even in his experiment file, Orpheus says Edgar accepted it at the end, so he decides to accept it at the end of the game. Most likely for some greater goal that hasn’t been revealed yet since Orpheus was hella vague in his experiment file.

I could honestly go on and on about how well executed his whole character is too. With how well they played into double entendres with his words and used a lot of art metaphors to hide his actual character so on the surface you wouldn’t clock it immediately. Or the carefully picked art references they used in his trailer that all tie into his character really well (I still think he has one of the best trailers to date). To even the way his birthday letters are released. Keeping his perspective on game 5 hidden despite probably having the most reliable account, instead having other characters describe him to play into the misdirection.

I could literally talk for hours about Edgar Valden, he is the idv character of all time and I love him sm

#idv #edgar valden #identity v #painter idv #edgar idv #idv edgar #idv painter #idv lore #chloe nair #jose baden #patricia dorval #kevin ayuso #edgar valden hates the one piece (not clickbait)

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sentfromwolves · 9 months ago

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◈—⌈ SENTFROMWOLVES ⌋ writeblr introduction ²⁰²⁴

Hi everyone, and welcome to my writeblr 2024 introduction. My name is Eran (they/he & freshly thirty) and I've been on writeblr for awhile, so you might've seen me around. ( •̀ ω •́ ) This is my yearly post to introduce the projects I'll be working on this year, what I write, and who I am. I'll be keeping it short and sweet.

I'd love to meet more writers this year, so if you write any of the following, or just like these genres, or even just wanna shout about ocs together, come holler and I'll give you a follow!

◈ — sci-fi and fantasy of any kind! cozy fantasy, romantasy, epic fantasy, space opera? this is my bread and butter, and I love shouting about it from the rooftops with others! ◈ — found families, ot3s, complicated soulmates. I am almost always writing about soulmates who have either killed each other at least once in the past or are planning some sort of murder. Complicated relationships, especially found families that aren't all rainbows and butterflies, are right up my alley. ◈ — queer and trans protagonists, large queer casts! all of my wips feature trans/nonbinary leads, and I'm always looking for more queer writer friends to connect with! ◈ — hope at the end of the tunnel, but hell to get to. I write stories with hopeful endings, with the sun on the horizon, with the promise that something better might now at long last be on the way. I love seeing characters get put through hell, but I love it even more when they make it to the other side. (if you write tragedy though, please know I will still cry on your doorstep if you'll have me) ◈ — corruption arcs, redemption arcs, sometimes both! Deeply nuanced characters with messy attitudes, and even messier actions. I'm just as equally obsessed with cool worldbuilding as I am with character-driven things, and I will yell about ocs all day, and maybe draw them too >:3 ◈ — big, epic, and sweeping worldbuilding! I am a huge fan of delving into the worldbuilding aspect of my wips. I love building magic systems, cultures, geographies, and more. One of my 2024 projects is doing a worldbuilding experiment blog at some point. I am always down to clown over worldbuilding, whether to sound board or just holler together!

There's a lot more I could say here, but this post can only get so long! Σ(っ °Д °;)っ my dms are always open, and I will follow back most of the time! But just to get all of the basics outta the way:

◈—« here's a quick and dirty rundown of how I work! »—◈

➺ I interact and follow from @calamityeden, so if you see that username, it's just me.✌️I am most active on discord, and if we become friends, you're more than welcome to ask to add me there. ➺ I am open to being tagged in writeblr games! Just know that I am not online all the time, and might be slow to respond to them. 🐌 ➺ My ask box and DMs are open, just please be respectful. I love meeting new writers and talking about projects! I am happy to chat and make new friends. You're always welcome! 💌 ➺ This is a strictly 18+ writeblr. Please DNI with me if you are a minor and respect my boundaries.

🪄You can find my core tags here under my writing and my graphics, as well as writer reminders, game train and catharsis. (❁´◡`❁) And now onto the fun part! My 2024 main project line up!

I have my main four listed here that you'll probably hear me yelling about pretty consistently, but I've also got a lot of other projects rattling around in my brain. So if you're ever curious about a project that's not here, feel free to yell at me about it! >:3

Genre: Dark Urban Fantasy Standalone.

Status: First Draft Complete (117k)—Revising for beta round one.

There's a clock tattooed on Nemesis's wrist, and when it reaches midnight on his 21st birthday, it will kill him. It doesn't help that his mom is the one that cursed him, and the demon currently possessing his car ate her before Nemesis could convince her to break the damned thing. Thankfully, Judge came prepared with an alternative: help him break into a mythical living city and steal its heart, and in return, he'll shatter Nemesis's curse for free. Accompanied by a three-headed hellhound, a haunted holy sword, and an excommunicated exorcist, Judge and Nemesis set their sights on an impossible heist. But the closer Nemesis gets to the heart, the more he begins to realize that he isn't the only one under a curse. And if he doesn't find a way to break Judge's soon, his own life will be forfeit as well.

Genre: Space Opera

Status: 2024 zero drafting from scratch

Two hundred years ago, humanity expanded to the stars only to find a cosmos filled with graves. But then their children began displaying the strange ability to commune with the alien ruins scattered across the planets, waking ancient, extrasolar mecha from their sleep, and turned the struggling colonies of space explorers into the fledgling galactic nation of Sol Galatea. Now, Wren Akane is on the run from the whole galaxy, wanted for the strange alien powers throbbing through his veins. His luck runs out when he accidentally awakens an ancient Relic in the desert of his planet, only to be embedded with the memories of its last pilot and the revelation that the war that littered the cosmos with graves is far from over. But no one believes Wren when he tells them that continuing to wake the Relics will bring the hostile alien empire that destroyed them back to Sol Galatea’s doorstep. Only Wren’s rival pilot, Marek Khalid, seems interested in a word Wren has to say. But Marek doesn’t want to save Sol Galatea. He has big plans for what to do when the aliens arrive, a rebellion to lead, and if Wren isn’t on his side, he’s in his way. With time running out, Wren must soon decide how far he’s willing to go to save the people that never tried to save him—or if Marek is right, and he should let the stars burn instead.

Genre: Adult Romantasy

Status: First Draft (1k/100k)

Once a year, Celestials from all across the Lumina Kingdom gather together for Eventide, the season of courtship, hoping to win the hand of the most eligible star at court. Sirius knows the game they play all too well: by day, he is the forgettable, miserable daughter of the Lumina Family, least of his seven siblings and wanted only for the royal blood running through his veins. By night, however, Sirius is the Starweaver—the mysterious dressmaker taking the kingdom by storm. Everyone wants to know the identity of the one responsible for elaborate outfits that turn even the quietest Celestial in the room into the star of the show, outshining even Sirius’s luminous sibling, Diana. When the infamous King Beyond Midnight arrives with the intent to wed Diana, Sirius finds his secret in jeopardy when the condition for their hand in marriage is a simple challenge: reveal the Starweaver's true identity. There’s no outsmarting Octavian for long, and soon, Sirius will have to make a choice: give up on his passion and stay hidden forever, or risk everything to stay true to who he really is.

Genre: Second World Urban Fantasy

Status: Outlining

Something changes the day that Nakano Touya returns to the crumbling city of Soma Lux. It starts with voices in the radio static, blurry figures caught on camera, always out of focus. When a monster crawls out of Touya's television screen and eats him, the last thing he expects is to find a strange, shadowy otherworld lurking on the other side. But his biggest problem isn't the monsters of the otherworld that want to eat him, or the talking cat that saved him, now living in his apartment without a care in sight. Soma Lux is experiencing a strange new epidemic—one that Touya is completely unaffected by. But when his half-sister falls comatose, Touya knows he has to get to the bottom of it all to save her—and find out why he's the only one immune. Accompanied by his jaded ex-boyfriend, Touya’s nosy classmates, a part-time fortune teller, and a cantankerous old hag, Touya dives into the murky underbelly of Soma Lux, where the realities have begun to bleed together between his world and the next.

That's all for now! >:3 Here's to an amazing 2024! (also my actual blog is a mess right now please do not mind it ksjndfskfn)

#writeblr intro #writing community #writeblr #my writing #my graphics #hey all hehe i just decided i'll probs do a fresh one of these every year to make sure i can pin an accurate wip list to the top #especially as i change wips from year to year!#i mostly am on discord #but i want to be able to meet new writer friends here too especially as the community grows!#seriously feel free to holler anytime #i'm usually around somewhere :3

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werecreature-addicted · 7 months ago

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if you were a vampire, what kind would you wanna be? There’s just so many different vampire canons ya know - like would you wanna have a monster/bay form? Etc

hmm, I don't know if I have a specific cannon in mind because you're right basically everyone writes vampires differently. Red eyes and Pointed ears are a MUST. I like the idea of looking human most of the time but turning more monstrous when drinking blood and a bat form is super cute, a total must.

I like the idea of a Victorian goth vampire who lives in a slightly rundown mansion and wears fancy out-of-date clothes. perhaps I could look longingly at an old painting of a human long dead, walk through a garden at night, cutting the roses off the roses bushes leaving only thorns like Morticia Adams. play the pipe organ and listen to records on a gramophone. I have a weird dungeon I call the "wine cellar" but I can't help but laugh when I call it that.

Rumors spread around town mw, about how I'm eccentric and old-money, and apparently have a skin condition that means I can't be in direct sunlight. But I'm so friendly! I can be trusted around exposed necks I promise.

I'd lure pretty things back to my house for the night, or even just to a dark back ally. they won't remember much, just a quick kiss to the neck. now they're too dizzy and weak to question what happened. That is until someone catches my eye, and then maybe I'll let them keep their memories and know me for what I really am.

#asks

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in1-nutshell · 11 months ago

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How wwould mtmte Swerve, Cyclonus, Tailgate, Rewind and Drift react to a human buddy who's style is goth?? Basically wears nothing but black and white, even her makeups black and white and looks really intimidating but is actually super nice and sweet?

Goth Buddy the cinnamon roll? Goth Buddy the cinnamon roll. Tiny goth Buddy on the Lost Light.

If this isn't what you wanted please let me know.

Hope you enjoy!

Human Buddy who like Goth style with Swerve, Tailgate, Rewind, and Drift

SFW, Platonic, Human reader

MTMTE

Swerve

Swerve likes the style.

Well, he likes a lot of human related things.

He’s never seen the style in real life, give him a second.

Would absolutely compliment Buddy’s choice in clothing. Out of the entire outfit, Swerve’s more drawn to the random streaks of color that he sees on Buddy’s outfits.

“Hey Buddy!”--Swerve

“Hey Swerve!”--Buddy

“What streaks do we have today? Purple? Navy blue? Or are we doing traditional Charcoal black today?”--Swerve

“Oh, I tried some cherry red this time. Your paintjob gave me some inspiration, so I used the darker color of your red.”--Buddy

“You-you got inspiration from my paintjob?”--Swerve

“Of course! Sure the red was a bit bold at first but with a bit of tweaking I got it dark enough to compliment the outfit!”--Buddy

Fans start kicking in.

Tailgate

Tailgate finds the outfit to resemble a lot like Cyclonus.

It’s dark, meant to be intimidating, and edgy. But just like his taste in aesthetics, Tailgate finds Buddy’s outfits adorable!

He has definitely taken Buddy to see Cyclonus so he can see Buddy be a ‘mini Cyclonus’.

Tailgate nearly tore the medbay doors seeing the alarming blush covering Buddy’s face. He thought Buddy might have been sick.

He is a fan of the cute fishnets Buddy has.

“Let’s try on theses ones next!”--Tailgate

“How about we take a break Tailgate? We’ve been trying on different fishnets for the last half hour.”--Buddy

“But we need to find the cutest one for your outfit! I mean how can you say no to these ones?”--Tailgate

“… give me the nets.”--Buddy

“Yeah!”--Tailgate

Rewind

Rewind has seen enough Earth movies at Swerve’s movie nights to be familiar with the style.

Not his style of preference, but its still a nice style.

Buddy gave him the rundown of the basics on the goth style while showing him some of their other articles of clothing and accessories.

For research purposes, Rewind asks Buddy to try on several outfits and accessories so he could document them. This is totally not because he has suddenly gotten invested in the different types of clothing that go under the goth category. Nope not at all.

Buddy knows this, but this also gives them an excuse to try some new clothing combinations.

Win-win situation.

He likes the different corsets Buddy has.

“Oh, I like that one!”--Rewind

“Really? This one get kind of itchy after a while.”--Buddy

“How about the one with silver studs in the middle with the silver chainmail?”--Rewind

“Hmm. Haven’t tried that combination yet. Well, I’ll try it on for the video.”—Buddy

“Oh yeah, the video.”--Rewind

Cyclonus

Cyclonus is introduced to the style after Tailgate showed him Buddy’s new style.

He had to admit that part of the style did seem to copy him in a weird way.

He likes the style and aesthetics of the goth style. Cyclonus has been one of Buddy’s supporters in trying and mixing different sub styles of goth together.

Do some of them end up going together? Yes.

Do some look like dumpster fire? Also, yes.

Secretly like the shiny silver jewelry Buddy has adorned on their body.

“Cyclonus! Cyclonus!”--Buddy

“Buddy?”--Cyclonus

“You won’t believe what I found in my jewelry box while cleaning out the silver studs!”--Buddy

“Hmm?”--Cyclonus

Pulls out a silver necklace with a skull that is shaped similar to Cyclonus’s faceplate.

“That’s…”--Cyclonus

“It’s cool right! I mean it’s like I’ll always have a part of you with me!”--Buddy

Trying to process cuteness because he was going to say uncanny--Cyclonus

Drift

Drift is familiar with the style.

He had seen plenty of humans using the style while he was on Earth.

The only problem he had with it was that a lot of the humans he encountered wearing the style gave off a bad aura. Not all, but a good portion.

He is glad Buddy isn’t giving off the bad aura.

Drift likes seeing Buddy experiment with the article of clothing especially ones with different textures. So many unique feelings under one’s digit at once.

He is a huge face of the makeup, specifically the makeup around the eyes. He is surprisingly good at doing them too.

“Drift, have you seen—”--Ratchet

Drift mass displaced holding eyeliner carefully doing Buddy’s eyes as they are peacefully laying down with their eyes closed and a small smile on their face.

“You need something Ratchet?”--Drift

“…I’ll go find First Aid to help me. Carry on with whatever you’re doing.”--Ratchet

#transformers #transformers x reader #idw mtmte #maccadam #mtmte x reader #human buddy #mtmte drift #mtmte cyclonus #mtmte rewind #mtmte tailgate #mtmte swerve

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kairismess · 11 months ago

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⋆⁺₊❅⋆ holiday headcanons event !!

day 6.2: under the mistletoe with yamaguchi 🌿

🍰 genre: fluff ~ ! ✒️ word count: 609 💭 summary: being under the mistletoe with yamaguchi 🌿 📣 thanks for requesting anon! if you'd like to request any other prompt for any other character, please refer to my holiday headcanons event and send me an ask!

"w-well, this is, uh... hah, it's... quite a surprise..." the freckled, olive-haired boy murmured with a smile, the corners of his lips shaking as you gazed up at him with widened eyes. he couldn't take his own eyes off you, not only because of how adorable you look so close to him, but because if he looked at his seniors' faces now, he just knew he'd be encouraged to carry on the mistletoe tradition, all for wanting to help you get more towels for the team after their practice.

nishinoya and tanaka were very supportive seniors, after all; they knew yamaguchi was a boy you found cute for quite a while, so they encouraged you not to be afraid, it's just a kiss, is all... right?

yamaguchi dared not to move as the team gathered around you both, with hinata not really sure of why yamaguchi was so reluctant to leave. tsukishima, as always, explained the tradition of being under the mistletoe to him and kageyama. "basically, yamaguchi needs to kiss them, or else..." "o-or else what? a ghost will remain in the closet?!" "or an evil spirit that will make us lose the next matches?!"

tsukishima found their ignorance regarding this tradition laughable. "no, actually, nothing will happen–apart from noya and tanaka most probably teasing yamaguchi about it, but oh well, so is life," the blonde explained, looking at yamaguchi with a straight face, while the latter was absolutely terrified.

"we... don't have to kiss if you don't want to, yamaguchi..." "i-it's not that, i-i... i... kind of don't mind y'know, i-i just... i'd like to... do it in private," the boy stuttered, getting shier and shier with every word he spoke. "o-only if you want to, of course!" yamaguchi stammered, awkwardly chuckling as you stared at him, making his brain go haywire.

you eventually agreed, and, closing the closet door–you leaned against yamaguchi; your hands gently wrapped around his, your eyes looking up into his own. "are you ready?" you asked him in a whisper. yamaguchi's entire face was like a strawberry right now, he was red and spotted with his darling freckles, but being in the dark made it hard for you to notice.

"i've... never actually kissed anyone else... s-so..." "that's okay," you reassure him, placing your hand on his cheek. "i'll show you..." you muttered, leaning closer to him. yamaguchi's eyes shone with adoration for you, and he nodded; you could tell in a way that this boy was excited for your kiss, even if it made him incredibly flustered.

with that, you pressed your lips against his softly, and against your kiss, he let out a soft noise–a noise letting you know that this kiss... was more than he could ever ask for, was perfect, beyond perfect.

after the kiss, nishinoya, tanaka, and surprisingly, sugawara were frustrated they didn't get to see you kiss. sugawara was late to the party and didn't even know you two were in the closet kissing for a short while until ennoshita gave him a rundown of the events at hand; of course, mama sugawara is very supportive of his children's romantic affairs, so long as it was contained.

"so... how'd it go?" the gray haired senior asked you both, with you smiling and holding yamaguchi's hand, leaning your head against his shoulder, making the boy jolt up and get red all over again. "...was perfect..." yamaguchi mumbled out, melting into a puddle in his mind as you made him feel all giddy, with butterflies in his chest at the feeling and realization that he kissed you–or more like, you kissed him, and it couldn't be any better.

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twistedtummies2 · 2 months ago

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Top 6 Epic Mickey Characters

Today is the release of the new “Rebrushed” Edition of a game I loved a ton growing up: “Epic Mickey.” I was OBSESSED with this game when it came out way back in 2010, and at the time it came out, it was treated as a big deal! There was a ton of merchandising and advertisement for this title, more so than you would get for most Disney games, and it’s not hard to see why: the game promised to provide a different kind of adventure for Mickey Mouse, with a darker tone and a focus on more obscure Disney characters and old cartoons. Nowadays, in hindsight, I feel the game could have gone even further than it did (and, apparently, the creators WANTED it to go further than it did, but either due to budget constraints, corporate meddling, or a bit of both, they couldn’t), but I still have a huge soft spot for it. It’s probably my favorite thing to feature Mickey Mouse as a heroic character, and it still has a notable cult following. Ironically for a game that focused on the obscure and the forgotten, the game itself sort of faded into obscurity for a while; despite the release of two sequels (namely a console follow-up called “Power of Two,” and a portable spin-off called “Power of Illusion”), the franchise sort of fizzled out pretty quickly, and for a long time it was seen as naught but an unusual footnote in the history of Disney and its presence in gaming. To celebrate the return of this game to store shelves (and, I believe, online distribution), I decided to do a quick rundown of my Top 6 characters from the games. Why Top 6, you may ask? Simple: because after six, it all gets kerbobbled. It’s harder for me to choose and rank characters beyond that point, simply because who I favor among them changes depending on my mood and how recently I’ve revisited portions of the game. My Top 6, however, have consistently been my Top 6 - both in terms of choices and ranking - pretty much from day one, and I don’t think will ever change, so they’re the ones I feel most comfortable discussing. Also, I’m going to attempt to avoid spoilers with this list, so I’m going to keep focused as much as possible on the first game, with less emphasis on the sequels. (Fortunately, all six characters appear in the first game, though some of the Honorable Mentions are from later titles.) I'll also try to avoid giving away too many of the twists in the plot, for those who will be playing Epic Mickey for the first time via this Rebrushed Edition. With that said, let’s dive into the Wasteland! These are My Top 6 Favorite Characters from Epic Mickey!

6. Pete.

What many people may not realize about Mickey’s famed arch-enemy is that Pete is actually the single longest-lasting recurring Disney character in history. Pete doesn’t just predate Mickey himself, he even predates Oswald the Lucky Rabbit: the character first showed up as a recurring villain in the silent animation/live-action hybrid “Alice Comedies,” with his first appearance dating back to 1925. That’s a whole three years before Mickey, and two years before Oswald! It’s therefore not entirely surprising to see Pete in the Wasteland, especially since the character has had so many different guises and roles throughout his long history…a fact that Epic Mickey takes humorous advantage of. You see, there isn’t just ONE Pete in the Epic Mickey universe. Oh, no. There are no less than FOUR. “Pete Prime” (the one picture here) is Big Bad Pete, who appears to be the town sheriff of Mean Street. Next there’s Small Pete, who lives in the Gremlin Village and is comically dressed up like a little Dutch girl doll. Then there’s Petetronic, who is basically what you’d get if Pete cosplayed as Commander Sark and is the head of Tomorrow City. Finally, there’s Pete Pan: a parody of Peter Pan who flies around Ventureland, mostly spending his time annoying the Wasteland’s version of Captain Hook. Interestingly, most of these Petes seem to be relatively nice characters, rather than real menaces to toon society…but be careful: a character with such a long and checkered past may not always be trustworthy.

5. Gremlin Gus.

Of all the characters left stranded and forgotten in the Wasteland, the Gremlins are easily the most obscure of the bunch. The characters were conceived in the mind of Roald Dahl - the author best known for his works of children’s literature, such as “The BFG” and “Charlie and the Chocolate Factory.” Dahl wrote a story simply called “The Gremlins” that was going to be transformed into a Disney movie…but for various reasons, the film never came to pass. The book itself has fallen into utter obscurity, and the scrapped project is largely unknown by even the most ardent Disney fans: I, myself, only knew of the Gremlins prior to Epic Mickey because of a paper ad for a re-release of the book in the early 2000s. In “Epic Mickey,” however, the Gremlins are a major part of the universe: since the movie was never really a thing, and the book is so little-known nowadays, the creators of the game were able to create their own twist on the Gremlins unique to this world. They are essentially the custodians of the Wasteland, performing a variety of jobs and services to keep the place ship-shape. The most prominent of them all is their leader, Gus. Gremlin Gus is a sort of “Papa Smurf” figure for the Gremlins, and acts as Mickey’s guide through the games, providing bits of advice and various hints along the rodent’s journey. Think of him along the lines of the Cheshire Cat from the American McGee’s Alice games, or one of Link’s many companions (such as Navi, Midna, or Fi) from The Legend of Zelda. In the first game, the vocal effects for Gremlin Gus were provided by veteran voice actor Bob Joles. In “Power of Two,” Gus was given a proper speaking voice, provided by none other than the Dread Pirate Roberts himself, Cary Elwes…and I can’t help but think such casting is why they perhaps gave Gus a few TOO MANY lines in the sequel, buuut that’s another story for another time.

4. Mickey Mouse.

I debated whether or not to give Mickey a place in the ranks of his own, for various reasons, but after some deliberation…yeah. I think he’s earned it in this case. As I said in the preamble, this is probably my favorite thing made to feature Mickey himself, and Mickey is part of that. This is one of those rare occasions where the premise of the story largely results from Mickey’s own actions and inactions, rather than the machinations of some other scoundrel: it is due to Mickey’s own foolery that the Phantom Blot and the Thinner Disaster are created. It is due to Mickey’s popularity that Oswald and several other characters in the Wasteland are forgotten to begin with. Now, Mickey has to essentially remember and salvage the very things that are in ruin because of him. The game plays around with this idea of saving and destroying through its chief mechanic: the magic paintbrush Mickey uses can destroy things by shooting streams of hyper-acidic thinner, or create through use of an enchanted paint. Different obstacles can be overcome by different uses of the two tools, and some can be dealt with in multiple ways: choice is a key factor of Mickey’s story, as well as the player. Originally, the game makers wanted to go even further with this idea, with the player’s decisions making Mickey more good or more evil throughout the story, but while the final result may be toned down from their initial schemes, I think it still works brilliantly. Mickey is still the fun-loving hero we all recognize, but there’s that little bit of mischief and extra depth to the character present because of this idea of choice and the way he’s depicted. The sequels continued these ideas, with choice remaining a major part of the story in “Power of Two” once more, and paint and thinner still being equally useful in “Power of Illusion.” Bottom line: move over, Kingdom Hearts. THIS is how you make Disney’s most recognizable rodent into an action-ready gaming star.

3. The Phantom Blot.

This character is the main antagonist of the original Epic Mickey, and has been referred to by multiple names: Shadow Blot, Storm Blot, King Blot, or simply “The Blot.” Whatever you call this character, I’ll always refer to him as “The Phantom Blot,” since that is who the character basically is meant to be. In Disney comics and cartoons, the Blot has been an enemy of Mickey Mouse for many years - dating back to the 1940s, in fact. Typically, he’s depicted as a campy supervillain; a costumed criminal mastermind garbed in an inky cloak and cowl. However, in “Epic Mickey,” the Blot is reimagined as something far more monstrous: a creature made of ink, accidentally formed by Mickey when he meddled with some magic in Yen Sid’s workshop, the Blot is the cause of all the misery going on in the Wasteland. This Blot eventually turns out to be bigger than a castle, and able to send out swarms of “bloticles” to literally drain the life from the Wasteland. The Blot is intelligent, but not complex: he has no purpose other than to destroy, and longs to take Mickey’s heart, since only toons with hearts can leave the Wasteland. With that power, he can venture forth and continue to devour other worlds of their energy and life. I had heard of the Phantom Blot before Epic Mickey, but I really didn’t know much about the character: this radical reinvention, for a kid, was quite the introduction. And while I’ve since looked into the ACTUAL Phantom Blot and found great joy in his exploits, I still enjoy this reimagining. In my opinion, the Blot is one of the best video game villains of all time; more a force of cruel nature than anything else, he is a terrifying beast few players will ever forget.

2. The Mad Doctor.

So, here’s something interesting to note: out of all the “forgotten” characters featured in Epic Mickey, I actually knew almost all of them when the game came out. Some of them I knew pretty well, others I didn’t but I had at least heard of before the game’s release. The one exception to this rule was this guy: the Mad Doctor. The Doc was the titular antagonist of the Mickey Mouse cartoon “The Mad Doctor” from 1933 - one of the few Disney cartoons that’s actually managed to fall into the public domain. Many consider it to be one of the darkest Mickey cartoons ever made, and in “Epic Mickey,” the infamous mad scientist has not mellowed much with age. It’s explained that the Mad Doctor, when he first came to the Wasteland, was seemingly a friendly figure, and became an ally to Oswald. He was considered one of Oswald’s best friends, in fact. However, it’s ultimately revealed that the Mad Doctor was always just as wicked as he was in the cartoon; biding his time till he could make a grab for power. When the Blot came to the Wasteland, in the wake of the Thinner Disaster, the Mad Doctor turned on the good people of the kingdom, creating an army of cartoon cyborgs called “Beetleworx” (part toon, part machine) to help conquer everything. There’s a lot more I could say about the Mad Doctor that makes him interesting - especially in regards to the sequel games and a few twists in the launch title - but since I’m trying to avoid spoilers, I think it’s best I save a lot of that for another time. Suffice it to say, this was a great introduction to a great villain and a great cartoon, and I’m glad that Epic Mickey was able to give a little bit more attention to the Mad Doctor for modern audiences.

1. Oswald the Lucky Rabbit.

Oswald was the main reason I got so interested in Epic Mickey so long ago, and was, in fact, more or less the reason the game happened to begin with. One of Walt Disney’s earliest creations, Oswald - who was the inspiration for not only Mickey himself, but also Bugs Bunny of WB fame in real-life - was the world’s first major cartoon star. After copyright issues led to Walt Disney breaking away from Universal Studios, and forming his own company, Oswald rapidly declined in popularity, and eventually pretty much vanished off the face of the Earth. In the real world, when Disney bought the rights to Oswald back from Universal many years later, this immediately transitioned into using him in a big (marketable) way, which led to the idea of Epic Mickey. Warren Spector (head of the team behind the game) became interested the instant Oswald was mentioned, being a huge animation buff, and as production went on, Oswald became a richer and richer character. In early concepts of the game’s story, he was actually going to be one of the main villains of the story, but by the time the game came out, he had transformed into the secondary protagonist. In the fictional story of the games, Oswald is the ruler of the Wasteland…but unlike others who are more or less happy with their existence, Oswald’s feelings of dejection have steadily consumed him. He is portrayed as Mickey Mouse’s long-lost brother; he resents the fame and fortune Mickey got, while he was basically left to rot. He is so obsessed that he creates a place called Mickeyjunk Mountain, where he spends countless hours brooding over his failures and his lost family, surrounded by remnants of Mickey’s fame that span decades; everything from bubble gum machines to NES game cartridges. The adventure in the Wasteland gives Mickey a chance to not only connect with his past and save the world, but to reconnect with and save Oswald, too. It’s the relationship between Oswald and Mickey, beyond all else, that makes the games so powerful, and Frank Welker - who provided Oswald’s vocal effects/voice in all the games - gives probably one of my favorite performances in his entire career. And keep in mind, this is the guy who played characters like Megatron, Garfield, Mr. Mxyzptlk, Fred AND Scooby from various takes on Scooby-Doo, and more “creature voices” than you can shake a stick at. To call this among his best is saying a LOT. For both his fictional prominence and historical significance, it’s no surprise that I name Oswald the Lucky Rabbit as My Favorite Epic Mickey Character. Case closed.

HONORABLE MENTIONS INCLUDE…

The Three Little Pigs.

Horace Horsecollar.

Gremlin Prescott.

Clarabelle Cow.

Captain Hook.

#list #countdown #favorites #best #top 6 #disney #epic mickey #mickey mouse #characters #video games #epic mickey rebrushed #oswald the lucky rabbit #the mad doctor #phantom blot #pete #gremlin gus

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