#and that's where the tagging trouble comes in:

[birdyshewrote]

“Sleeping Aid”

Logan Howlett x Reader

written by birdy

Summary: You’re a newer member of Xavier’s Mansion after the infamous Wolverine had saved you during a mission. Since then, you’ve been having trouble sleeping in the new home, and you’re not the only one.

Warnings/Tags: Soft!Logan Howlett x Reader, 18+, gender of reader never specified, Logan calls Reader “Kid”, lots of fluff, smoking, cuddling.

——————————————————————————

It had only been a few weeks at the mansion. The memories and trauma of past experiences and experiments fresh in your head. These traumas mainly came out during night. You’d wake up in a cold, damp sweat. Once you gathered your surroundings, you’d step out of bed, threw on some slippers, and scurry down the long, dark hallways. It was late. Very late. The time of night where everyone was already in deep sleep, so you kept quiet, opening the large doors outside into the large yard.

“Ain’t it a bit late to be sneaking out, Bub?”

You turn to face the voice that you recognized immediately.

Logan stands against the mansion wall. Cicadas and crickets chirp in the summer night. He lifts a cigar to his mouth, a sharp canine gently biting into it. An owl echoes in the air. He peers down at you, a hint of protectiveness in his tone and demeanor, relaxed, but ready to defend.

You pause, feeling caught in the act. “Just.. couldn’t sleep.” You say, rubbing your hands up and down your arms in the chilled, open air. The wet grass brushes against your ankles.

He takes a puff from his lit cigar as you speak, furrowing his brows. He exhales the thick smoke from his mouth before he responds,

“Well, Kid. Slipping out into the night isn’t gonna make those eyelids any heavier.” He spoke low, his tone teasing.

You step forward, slumping down the wall next to him, sitting next to his big, brown leather boots. You inhale deeply. The fresh air mixed with cigar smoke and slight smell of Logan’s musk fills your chest, relaxing you.

Logan lifts an eyebrow, sensing your heavy mood. He rests the cigar in his mouth, kneeling down next to you. His dark, blue jeans bending and folding at his knees.

“Alright, what’s troublin’ ya Kid?” He sighs, looking at your dimly lit face.

You politely smile at his concern, shaking your head. “Nothing, nothing,” you reassure him, “Just uh.. dreams.”

He studies your face and nods slightly.

“Mm.” He hums in understanding. “I getcha. Had ‘em too for a while.” He speaks softly and slowly, his own sleep deprivation showing through his speech. “Come on. It’s cold out here, you’ll get sick. Let’s go back inside, I’ll stay withya. I’ll take care of you.” He puts out his cigar on the pavement and offers a rough, large hand to help lift you up, which you take with your own. He helps you stand, leading you back into the building.

“You hungry?” He asks as you pass the kitchen. You shake your head, rubbing your eyes. He puts a comforting hand on your back, ever so slightly smiling to himself as he watches you walk, your head low, exhaustion slowly draping over your mind. He likes this. Feeling like your guardian. Watching you, leading you back to bed, making sure you get the rest you need.

Once you’re back to your room, he reorganizes your bed, fluffing your pillow, and then extending his hands towards the sleeping area, mouthing a “Ta-Da”

You smile, watching him, kicking off your slippers and flopping into the bed. He throws some covers over you gently, making sure you’re warm and safe.

“Good?”

You nod.

“Get some sleep.” He turns to leave, but you grab his large arm. He turns, slightly startled.

“Do you mind.. staying?”

He could fall apart. Your voice, so soft and gentle, it’s crumbling and puts a twang through his heart. He huffs gently, sitting on the edge of the bed next to you.

“Okay, Kid.” He nods, his eyes half lidded.

You notice the slowness in his voice. “You’re tired too.”

“It’s okay, I can watch over you.”

You blink slowly, looking up at his face. His eyes tired, but gentle. You scoot over, opening the covers. He picks up on your asking.

“Mm, okay. But you better not steal the blanket.”

Before you knew it, the tall, brooding man was laying next to you in your bed, taking up most of the space. You didn’t mind though, this only meant you were in his space, which felt nice. The scent of dark leather and alcohol lingered in your bed. You secretly hope the smell with stain your sheets for a few days.

“Don’t get used to this.” He grumbles against the back of your neck, laying behind you with his muscular, relaxed arm under your head.

You sigh in response, taking a mental note of the space he was leaving between your two bodies. Were you overstepping? Was he uncomfortable? Before your self criticism could be spoken out loud, he threw his other arm over your waist.

“This okay?” He mumbles, half awake.

You nod, your heart thumping in your chest now.

“Are you sure?” He asks, “I can hear your heart. You uncomfortable?”

You smile, and turn your body around to face him. He slowly lifts his eyes open, an eyebrow twitching in reaction to your sudden movements. He looks at your face, the way your smooth skin blends into your soft lips and the way your eyelashes curl up. You look back at him, studying his face for a moment. His dark, thick eyebrows lay relaxed on his worn face. His hair is messy now, untamed and wild. You reach out a hand to feel the side of his cheek, the harsh stubble and beard hair gently scraping the back of your fingers. He gently leans into your hand, closing his eyes again and breathing your air.

You retract your hand, lean down and rest the top of your forehead on his chest. The fabric of his white wifebeater is soft in comparison to his rough, warm skin.

Logan had said not to get used to this. He told himself he wouldn’t get used to it. No matter what he said, nothing could change the unspoken understanding that this was the start of a new tradition between the two of you.

[bamsywrites]

And Comes Dawn pt 12

Pairing: unrequited Isildur x Reader, mentions of Sauron/Halbrand reader, possible future requited Isildur x Reader

Tags: angsty, unrequited love, Isildur curses like a sailor and like breaks peoples bones, reader runs away from her problemsReader gets into trouble obvi, surprise kinda toward the end.

Notes: I told you I'd be feeding you but I'm not sure that yall will like this one. No sauron. Just isildur. There's some foreshadowing at the end and that's what I think might ruffle some of yalls feathers 😬😬 also it's not the best. I'm still getting a feel for isil.

“No, no. Isildurs fingers wrapped around your wrist, tilting it ever so slightly, “you must block like this. The tilt gives you the advantage to push in. It gives you easier access to defend more of your body. Having the sword straight up will make you more vulnerable.”

You nodded following his example. You'd been at this for a few hours with him. He'd been insistent when he found you were going on the expedition back to your homeland. He knew that the main reason you were going was that Halbrand was making the trip as well, but you had offered your skills as a healer. He couldn't stomach sending you into a battlefield without you having some combat knowledge.

“That's a good girl,” he commented with a laugh as you blocked several of his attempts. “But watch your feet. You have to be ready to move to either side.”

He stopped again. “Bend your knees like this,” he demonstrated the position he was talking about. “That way, you'll be ready for whatever movement you may need to make.”

You nodded and copied his position, and then you were back to practicing, trying to use everything he had taught you. He'd give you praise when you blocked or got a hit, offer advice when you missed. The light around you was dimming, and you were making progress. He was genuinely proud of the progress you made.

“One more go, alright, then I have to get some food or I fear I'll perish.” He commented, his heart soaring at the sound of your laugh.

The sound of the wooden swords hitting each other as you practiced filled the street. Suddenly, you went to block, and he was able to twirl you away, bringing you into his sword and against his chest.

“I win,” he laughed before noticing how close you were to him. He could see every freckle on your face, every faint scar from childhood, the different specs of color that made up your eyes. The air felt hot and crushing around him. He hated how gorgeous you were and how his mind would wander to a world that couldn't be.

A world where, in this instance, he could kiss you.

He he held your gaze, he didn't know for how long but then his eyes wandered down to your lips and he saw how soft they looked. He wandered if they were. He wondered if things were different, would you allow him to kiss you.

The words tumbled from his lips before he could stop them.

“I wish a could kiss you.”

And with those words, you backed away, dropping your sword and staring at him for a moment. He could tell you didn't know what to do or say, that your mind was thinking over everything. He adored his friendship with you, just as much as he did you, and he knew those words would cause a conflict in you that might destroy that friend ship.

“I need to go,” you mumbled softly before swiftly turning on your heels and making your way down the dark streets of Numenor.

“Shit,” he mumbled under his breath and quickly followed you.

Perhaps you'd stop, and he could explain. If not, he simply needed to make sure you made it to your accommodations safely. There were plenty of Numenorians who supported this venture, but there were plenty who were not and blamed you and your companions. Some even resented you. Some threatened violence. And while Isildur could understand wanting to punch Halbrand in the face, he would not allow that harm to come to you.

“Wait, come on, just wait. Please.” He called after you, his feet carrying them after you.

Why did Elros put so many damn stairs in this city?

He feared he lost you. You were much faster than he suspected. He ran a shaky hand through his hair, a chorus of curses chanting in his mind. It was when he heard your voice from a street over that he calmed, but when he registered what you said in his mind, his blood ran cold, and he saw red.

“Please, I didn't do anything. I swear.”

You sounded scared. You sounded hurt. He'd never run so fast in his life, and the sight he saw made any semblance of calm or common sense leave his mind. A group of 3 men, all Isildurs age, and you, with a fresh cut on your face.

“I suggest you all step the fuck back,” he moved stand between them and you, his hand wrapping around your wrist to keep you behind him.

They all snickered, “and what will you do, elf lover?”

The words had only left the man's mouth and Isildur had grabbed him by the back of the head, smashing into his knee. Once. Twice. Three times before any of the mans friends got involved. It was a cacophony of curses, fists, and the crushing of bones. You had pressed your back to the wall with your eyes shut tight as it all transpired.

“I suggest you leave before I break your nose like I did both of your weak, pathetic friends.” Isildur hissed, his nose was bleeding as was his mouth, but he stood there with the others shirt in his fist as his companions sat on the ground worse for wear than Isildur was.

When the man didn't respond, Isildur growled and yanked his shirt harder. “Brave enough to strike a woman, but cowardice overtakes you now? You are pathetic. A disgrace to Numenor. The valar look on you and despair.” He pushed the other away from him.

“Leave now.”

He watched and waited for them to leave before turning to you. He limped towards you, examining your face. “Are you okay?”

“Me?!” You ask exasperated, staring at his beaten body. “Are you okay?”

“I'll survive.”

~

Less than an hour later, you were seated in his room. His home wasn't far from the attack, and he sat in silence as you tended to his wounds. He watched your face intently, the adrenaline from before had worn off for both of you and the weight of the words he spoke had started to wear on you both.

The silence had been awful for him. Normally, he'd make you laugh, or there was some witty back and forth between the two of you. You’d become a close friend in a short time. His feelings for you wereones he tried to swallow and hide, but he failed.

“I'm sorry.” He decided to break the silence first. “I never meant for you to be caught in the middle of something you never asked for.”

You silently wiped blood from his chin before sitting back and away from him. “I do not wish to hurt anyone's feelings.”

He smiled sadly, looking at his lap, “I will be honest with you, my feelings are hurt all the time. You are so, obviously in love with another man, and I do find comfort in the fact that you are happy and that he returns your love.”

He swallowed thickly, “I want you to be happy, truly. You are my friend, and I do not wish you any ill, but I know what I feel in my heart, and some days, it simply aches.”

You looked down, your lip quivering, and he felt an immense amount of guilt. He saw you part your lips to speak, and he put his hand on your knee to stop you.

“You do not need to apologize or feel guilt. I do not blame you as you have done nothing wrong. I said before, and I mean it, your friendship is not a consolation prize. It is an honor. Truly. I value our friendship more than I can say.”

You looked at him, swallowing thickly, “There's nothing wrong with you, Isil. You are funny and brave and loyal. You are a good friend and a good man.”

He smiled again, of course you would comfort him in this moment. You were simply that kind of person, and that's why he adored you so. “I'm also incredibly attractive.”

You laughed softly, wiping at your eyes.

“I should not have said it,” he spoke sincerely once more, “That was unfair to you. I hope that we can move past this. I hope we can still be friends.”

You smiled at him and nodded, “I've never had a friend like you before. I just do not wish to hurt you.”

He shook his head. Did you not know you were a rose? He'd grasp tight the thorny stem if it meant he got to view the blossom. “I am fine. I will be fine.”

You wet your lips and nodded, picking at the skin of your palm.

“Truly, don't worry. The women of Middle Earth will be throwing themselves at my feet after I save them from the orc scourge. I will have to fight them off, me and Berek may not make it back.”

You laughed softly, “You are a strange man.”

“You are a strange woman. You show up to our shores with an elf and the long-lost king of the southlands. Your friends assault our people, commit treason, and you start yelling explectives in our streets.”

You glared at him, and he couldn't help but laugh. Relief flooded his body as things settled back to normal, and he escorted you home. His heart did ache when he saw you with him but a part of him knew there was more to come between the two of you, weather a deeper bond of friendship or romance, he did not know.

And he was not wrong, for 3000 years later, a part of him and a part of you would carry on in a ranger, sat at an inn and about to embark on a journey that would change the fate of all life.

[unintentionaloracle]

The Honorary In-Law (Part One) [Fic]

Hoo boy this took a while (so long I said "screw it" to trying to make it plausible to the current timeline of events in actual kayfabe) but now my baby is done! And boy do I need it between The Jhea Drought and whatever is happening with Zowens. (Trips why are you hurting me specifically?)

Summary: Rhea and Jey have been keeping it casual for a while. But when Jey tries to arrange a meeting with her and Sami, can Rhea handle the pressure to not screw up her new romance? And will Kevin throw a wrench in them taking their next step?

(Also I do have Liv and Dom in here and mentions of Rhea having had relationships with both of them, but I'm not tagging those so far because it's only for like, a scene and it seems rude to tag past relationships that are only mentioned in passing. IDK I can tag those if you need me to I'm so tired, y'all.)

Part One: Double Your Trouble, Double Your Fun

 Rhea chuckled mischievously, planting one last kiss on Jey's lips. She glanced down at her handiwork: his mouth coated with her black lipstick. Her own probably looked like a mess, but it was worth it. She shifted her position on the couch from pinning and straddling the Intercontinental Champion to one that allowed her to curl up on him–head on his chest–almost like a contented cat.

 She could practically feel Jey grinning ear to ear as he held her. “I know I say this every time we make out, but...damn, Rhea...”

 Rhea grinned, rubbing his chest. “Oh, you ain't seen nothing yet...” She purred.

 “...Baby, this stuff is gonna wash off easily, right?” He asked, trying to check for himself.

 Rhea laughed. “No, you'll be walking around with that for a while. I got the good stuff,” she joked. “I gotta mark my territory, after all...”

 “I mean...I could've just written “Mami” on my sunglasses...”

 “Yeah,” she looked up at him with a smirk, “but then I wouldn't have had to kiss you.”

 “...Okay, nevermind...”

 A content warmth spread through Rhea. “Although, to be fair, I've got a million excuses to kiss you...” She said, wiggling her eyebrows.

 Jey laughed. He shifted them both around so Rhea was on the couch and he was on top. “Oh really? Do you need one?”

 Rhea smirked. She cupped his face as she pressed a spellbound Jey’s forehead to hers. “Nope. Especially not if you ask me nicely...”

 “Well then...Miss Rhea Ripley, may I please kiss you?” Jey said in a low, flirty tone as leaned in for another kiss.

It was then that Priest walked into his and Rhea's hotel room. “...Really? On the only couch?” He said as they turned to see him. Then he glanced at a flustered Jey. “That’s not your shade, man.”

 “Oh, come on, Damian. We aren't even screwing yet.” Rhea replied, making Jey choke on air. “And True Abyss is absolutely his shade!��

 Damian scoffed, trying to hide a smirk as he shook his head. “Just give me some heads up next time you have your new boytoy over, okay?” He said, heading to the bathroom.

 “Oh, fine.” She turned her attention back to Jey. “I swear, sometimes he's like a brother in an annoying way. Where were we?”

 “Actually,” Jey said, putting a finger to her lips...before he appeared to remember Rhea was an absolute menace of a flirt. He removed it before she could even open her mouth to do anything with that finger. “That reminds me: there's something I wanna ask you...”

 Concern rose through her body. “What?”

 “It’s nothing bad, I was just thinking...I kinda wanna introduce you to Sami...”

 Rhea somewhat relaxed, concern replaced with confusion. “...I've met Sami, Jey...”

 “I meant re-introduce him. You know, somewhere where you're not beating him and Kevin up to help The Judgement Day? A do-over.”

 “Why?”

 “Because you're important to me. And Sami's important to me, too.”

 Rhea felt touched, but also compelled to ask: “wouldn't it make more sense to introduce me to your family first? Or re-introduce me, I guess?”

 “I mean, Sami’s practically family,” Jey said plainly. “And right now, introducing you to my family is out of the question...”

 “Not even Jimmy?”

 “Nah. We're still trying to fix things between us...”

 “Roman?”

 “I can't stand to be in the same room as him longer than I have to.”

 “Your dad?”

 “No, no. Definitely not him. Trust me.”

 Rhea sighed. “And obviously Solo and his Bloodline are also out, even if I could take them...”

 “You could, but...” Jey cupped her face, rubbing his thumb against her cheek and smudging her initials she'd written on them. “Rhea, I don't want to make you have to deal with them, too. The Bloodline takes almost every good thing I have from me,” he pressed his forehead to hers. “I don't know what I'd do if they somehow took you, too. Plus, with all the crap you've been dealing with? I’d hate to get you tangled in my family ish because of me, baby. Know what I mean?”

 Rhea blinked. She didn't think she'd be touched by such a sentiment, but here she was, thinking of all the times she had to fight the men of The Judgement Day’s battles (especially Dom’s). And now Jey was here, not asking such a thing. He never would. It'd almost make her cry, if she didn't want to spoil the mood. Especially at this phase of their relationship: the “we aren't putting labels on it yet” phase.

 So instead, she wrapped her legs around his waist and pulled him closer, cupping his face back. “Yeet,” she purred.

 Damian left the bathroom, but this time the lovers barely registered his presence as they lovingly stared at each other in the far more suggestive pose. “WEPA! Jey, I'm taking your hotel room key and I'm crashing in there!”

 “Uh, that might not be a good idea, Uce. Kevin's crashing with us right now, and he and Sami have been really–”

 Damian swore, mumbling something under his breath about “how can Sami still be with that guy?” before declaring “Guess I'm heading out.”

 Jey gave a thumbs up before Rhea dragged him back down for a quick kiss. “Is that a yes?” He asked.

 “Yes...” She said, tangling herself around him.

---

 The next night on Raw, Rhea prepped for her match backstage. Liv wanted to make sure Rhea couldn't get her next shot at her and the title so easily. So she had arranged for there to be a Battle Royal to determine her next Number One Contender. Idiot. I’ve won a Royal Rumble from the Number One spot. A Battle Royal is nothing. Rhea thought.

 Still, Rhea knew she didn't exactly have friends in the women's locker room. She'd done some terrible things to a lot of the girls over the past two years. Stuff she hadn’t exactly apologized for. So, naturally, it was awkward between her and everyone else in the locker room. So much so that, when she went to get her gear, she just got changed in the bathroom and hung out everywhere but the locker room, instead.

 (She knew it was bad when Damage Ctrl shot her dirty looks.)

 As she made her way to gorilla position backstage, she had a brief run-in with Raquel. Rhea opted to ignore her and the impulse to forget everything she was aiming for to get some sweet revenge. She had a match to win, she just couldn't get distracted by any annoying–

 “Daddy Dom, it's gonna suck having to be away from your handsome face two matches in a row,” Liv said, pouting before Dom rubbed his nose to hers.

 “Son of a bitch,” Rhea said to herself, rolling her eyes at the display.

 “Yeah, cuz right after you observe the battle royal, I have my Intercontinental Championship match against Jey, and he’s got you and the guys banned from ringside. It's not fair...” Dom whined.

 Rhea couldn't help but gag. “That you have to fight your own battles like a man for once?” She said, aloud.

 The couple finally noticed she was in the room. Liv rolled her eyes. “Don't listen to him, Daddy Dom. You're plenty man for me. She's just jealous she has to settle for Jey, now.”

 “Oh honey, I am not settling with Jey. I'm more than satisfied...” Rhea replied, shooting Dom a look that made him avert his eyes.

 “Yeah, well... you're still probably gonna screw up with him! Just like you did with me!” Dom fired back, throwing his arm around Liv.

 “And me.” Liv added, cattily.

 Rhea felt a slight pang, but she couldn't let either of them notice. Or dwell on it. She put on her best smug smirk. “Uh huh...so tell me: do you enjoy making out because you're so into each other? Or is it because you both can still taste me?”

 Liv nearly lunged at her as Dom yelled, holding his girlfriend back. Rhea braced herself, motioning for them to bring it. She cackled as Liv flailed in Dom's arms and Dom struggled with her. That's when Rhea felt a hand ease around her waist.

 “Is there a problem, here?” Jey said, lowering his sunglasses. Rhea glanced at him, he was wearing black and purple on his gear, along with his signature blue and pink, and a pair of “Mami” sunglasses. She grinned a little at him before going back to glaring at her exes.

 “No...” Dom said (earning a groan from Triple H as he motioned for the cameraman to leave). “Just control Rhea...” He said, finally (and ungracefully) putting Liv down.

 “Yeah, control her!” Liv said, straightening her hair and outfit as she glared at Jey.

 “Y'all know nobody can control her,” Jey said fondly, squeezing her closer as Rhea threw an arm around him. He looked at Dom. “We'll finish this later,” Liv's music hit. “I think that's your cue to go...”

 Liv rolled her eyes. “C’mon, Daddy Dom! Walk me to the announce desk?” She said with a pout before they headed for the curtain. “And by the way, Rhea? The gear’s a bit much...” She added before leaving in a huff with her boyfriend.

 “YOU���RE ONE TO TALK IN THAT MINISKIRT WITH “PROPERTY OF DOM” ON THE ASS!” Rhea yelled back.

 Jey gave them a stern yeet goodbye before he finally seemed to notice Rhea’s outfit: white, blue and pink gear with a “YEET” collar. She even had sunglasses that had “R+J” written on them (her makeup had the same written on her cheek). He grinned. “Well, I like it.”

 “Yeah, they aren't really my colors, but I love them on you...” She said, grinning back. “Oh, did you talk to Sami about tomorrow morning? Doing breakfast or brunch or whatever together?”

 “Yeah. I actually came to talk to you about that...”

---

 Jey gave a gentle knock to door of his and Sami’s hotel room. Sami sent him a quick text telling him to wait a moment, followed quickly by the all clear to come in.

 Jey entered the room to find Sami, half-dressed and still sitting in bed. “Mornin’, uce!” Jey said brightly.

 Sami tried to motion for him to be quiet.

 Kevin, who was lying beside him with his arms wrapped around Sami's waist, stirred. The Prizefighter had been crashing with Sami and Jey since his fights with his friends and subsequent suspension. (“I'm all he has left, Jey,” Sami had pleaded. “He needs somebody in his corner right now.”) He seemed to be chill with Jey, therefore Jey was chill with him. Besides, he knew there was no talking Sami out of helping someone, especially Kevin. 

 Kevin said something sleepily in French, eyes still shut.

 Sami rubbed Kevin's back and said something sweetly in French. Jey guessed it was something like “It's just Jey, my love.”

 Kevin nodded, squeezing Sami tighter. He said something else in French.

 Sami replied in French.

 Kevin repeated what he said in French as a question.

 Sami huffed and repeated himself, apparently correcting what he'd said before. Kevin chuckled and settled back down.

  “Merci, beau,” Kevin said, smiling contently as he cocooned himself in blankets. He actually looked relaxed...and happy. More than Jey had seen him in weeks...or ever. It honestly kinda scared him a bit. Jey knew how to handle an angry, rampaging Kevin. But a blissful one? A blissful one felt like a trap.

 But Sami's the happiest I've seen him in weeks, all things considered, Jey thought. So I can live with that...

 “Someone looks like he had a good night with his girlfriend,” Sami teased, his voice a whisper.

 Jey covered the hickey on his neck and tried to wipe the lipstick smudges from his mouth again, flustered. “Ah, c'mon, man. We haven't made it official yet.” He said. “We're taking our time...”

 Still... Jey thought. He was more than willing to give Rhea the time she needed, but sometimes he kinda worried that maybe she wasn't as serious about him as he was about her.

 “I know...” Sami replied. “But seriously, you seem happy.”

 “I am! I did have a good time...” Jey said, rubbing the back of his neck. “And I asked her about meeting up with you...”

 “And?”

 “She's down for it! She thought maybe we could get breakfast on Tuesday. Or brunch. She just kinda thought it might not be as awkward as a dinner after work or something,” Jey said.

 “Oh! Okay, yeah. I think I could work with that...” Sami said.

 Kevin stirred again. “You're going to breakfast with Jey?” He said, now more awake.

 “And Rhea,” Sami said. He explained the plan to “re-introduce” the two to Kevin. Kevin stared at him groggily the whole time, his eyebrow raised.

 “Can I tag along?” Kevin asked.

 Sami blinked. “You want to “re-meet” Rhea?”

 Kevin nodded. “We're a package deal, aren't we? Plus, what if this is all a ploy and she turns on you guys? You need some protection. What're they gonna do? Suspend me more?”

 It's called firing, Uce. Jey thought. He had other concerns, too. Kevin was so unpredictable, lately. Did he really want to bring that around his girl? Especially when he didn't want her around his mess of a family?

 “I mean, if she's cool with it, I'm cool with it,” Sami said. “It'll almost be like a double date...”

 “See!? A package deal!”

 Jey chuckled awkwardly. “I can run it by her...”

---

 “So...” Jey said, one hand on his hip. He scratched at his goatee with the other. “How are you feeling about that?”

 Rhea folded her arms, thinking. The idea of Kevin hanging around didn't exactly thrill her. Not for his behavior, of course. (She knew she could lay him out if he acted up.) But she was already somewhat anxious about trying to win over Sami, given their history. Throwing his unstable boyfriend in? Who held a hell of a grudge? You might as well ask her to do an MMA fight with a kangaroo, that'd be easier.

 Still, Dom and Liv’s taunts about their failed relationships with her started to echo in her head. I'm not gonna screw this one up! She thought.

 Her music hit. She jumped a little, startling Jey. “Oh, damn it...” She said. “Sure, he can come! I gotta go!” She quickly kissed him. “Bye!” She said, making her way to the curtain.

 “Uh, bye...Good luck, baby! You got this!” Jey called after her.

 Rhea smiled, confidence returning. She shoved the personal drama aside in her head and went into Match Mode. As she did her signature stomp in her entrance, she thought: I do got this. I'm gonna get my title shot, then I'm gonna crush the whole “winning over Sami and Kevin” thing!

---

 Rhea threw some stuff around backstage after the match, screaming. Priest ran up to her, “Hey, take it easy, Rhea! What's up?”

 She stopped her rampage, breathing heavily. “Did you not see that match!?” Rhea asked. 

 “No, I was talking to Pearce about getting my title back. I take it it went b–?”

 “Raquel and Liv cost me my shot by cheating after I eliminated Raquel because they're bloody cowards!” She shouted. “Now MAXXINE has my title shot!” Rhea let out another yell before burying her face in Damian's torso and hugging him.

 Damian patted her back. “Ouch. I'm sorry, Rhea. But hey, good for Maxxine, at least...”

 “Whose side are you on?” She asked, as if she hadn't enjoyed a hyped-on-victory Maxxine performing an arm drag on Liv when they faced off after and the latter held up her title in the ring, trying to act like she was the baddest to ever do it.

 “Yours. Always. Need me to put the fear of God in them? Maybe put Dom on the shelf?” Damian asked.

 “No, I don't want you suspended...” Rhea said. “Besides, I need to take out Raquel first...” She was gonna get nowhere with Liv's little bodyguard around. She clung to Damian a little tighter.

 Damian chuckled. “Alright...” Damian hugged her back. “Hey, is that all that's wrong?”

 “I'm just stressing about this breakfast thing I'm doing with Jey and Sami. Kevin apparently invited himself along so now I have to deal with that too.”

 “Oof. Need me to come along?” He asked.

 “I'd love you to, but I gotta do this on my own, Priest...” Rhea replied. “I don't want to make this messier...” Or more awkward.

 “Okay, but if you need me, or an excuse to leave, just hit me up and I'll get you out of there, all right?” He said, giving her a kiss on the top of her head and a pat on her back before letting her go.

 “Thanks, Priest. I appreciate it.” Rhea waved goodbye as Damian walked off. She took a deep breath, ready to just take a moment to collect her thoughts...

 Cathy came by, mic and film crew at hand. “Rhea, tough loss tonight. How do you feel—?”

 Rhea let out a scream of frustration and stormed off, in search of a breakable outlet for her rage.

To Be Continued...

[ryllen]

So what made you go for the green haired shouty bitey boi? 😆

Not that I’m complaining! I just never knew there was even a Yuu x Sebek pairing among all the more common ships in this fandom, so I was pleasantly surprised stumbling upon your content.

honestly i don't consider myself a true lover of sebek that i probably wouldn't give u reasons u want to hear fhsdh

i just like him in the way that he fits my yuu dynamic, but he is not exactly the type i personally go crazy for lmao i feel like, i am more of a mother-in-law that would always find something to criticize him about so when u see actual sebek lovers go kyaaaaaaaaaa waahhhhh criesssss diessssssss on sebek new cards, i'm like, lmao yea okay boi

my true babies are jade and trey lmao 🤣 jade tbh, trey comes after bcs i started to consider him after seeing him being shipped with jade notinmyrightmindiwouldeventhinkicouldcreateayuuthatcouldhandlejadesojadeyuuisneveranoptiontome

do u still even want to hear my lore ? l m a o.

i always thought sebek was the most unlikeable one on twst bcs i hardly ever saw the fanarts of him on my twitter tl, (honestly it was like the entire diasomnias, bcs to be fair their main story line had not come out, but i still saw sebek the least of them all) and i heard a bit about how he only ever talk about malleus, so lmao who can even get between that

but then my very first story interaction with him was the masquerade, and the lap incident was so funny, i don't know lmao, after that i was thinking how annoying sebek was with his yelling human this human that on daily lesson and this very first post between them happened

if u just read my tags under that post u see my struggle of suddenly considering him at all fhsdh

tho i read on his halloween vignette that deuce said he never rly yells in a way that caught him in trouble with the teachers so i don't think my thought of him rly matches him canonly

but yea i like tsun elements in my ships, and i find it fun when they bicker too

tho i just pretend yuu has the magical ability to ignore his volume of shouting bcs lmao even i still can't stand his yelling when i put him at homescreen u can actually find me going "shhhh...!!! sebekkk......." in real life when he yelled on my screen it usually ended up with me having to omit him & exchange with the others bcs he nearly gives me headache

do u regret reading until this far? lmao, this is mostly just me ranting about him rather than me gushing about him bcs lmao this is just how i am with sebek

anyhow, it feels like everyone is gushing about sebek from the halloween event but i am too lazy to read everything from the event from fan translation right now so lmao, who knows, either i will like him a bit more, or i just want to noogies him further once the next year halloween come on ENG server.

if we want to talk a bit of the good side of sebek, i think it is good that he is hardworking i love when he puts his hand on his chest during battle as if he is taking a deep breathe and letting it out to calm and assure himself that he'll do just fine

i think it's very humane of him to have insecurities even tho it's not super explored in canon, bcs he is too busy assuring himself with boastful confidence *like someone i knew, alex sdv i was talking about u and ur initial stage

but that's where the fandom power comes in exploring the unexplored, here is a writing i love about sebek who tries hard everyday

i just wish i can actually ease him up a little bit and that's how my sebek comes to be i love to explore more on his childish side, his teenage boy side that appears in the game sometimes, but is still far too drowned with the race he set for himself to achieve the kind of power he dream of, as fast as he could be and the side where he is not purely drowned with the thought of malleus sama fshdh

the problem with me, i think i always butchered a good amount of unwanted traits of a character, to make them more likeable but does that makes the character still them enough ?

anyhow we are digging at the end of the well here i am not even sure if it's relevant to ur question anymore but i am glad and thankful that u found me

ciao maybe, or i'll see u around 👋👋 good day

[aspynnwoofs]

Um. hi. your fanart of Marcy waking up from a nightmare is probably my favorite piece of Amphibia fanart ever. curious what was going through your head when you made it. also what are your headcannons/thoughts about The Core, Marcy, what she experienced while under its control, and its lasting effects on her?

holy shit dude, thanks? i don’t know what i did to deserve all this nice stuff you’re saying, but thanks. also the tags on the reblog were not aggressive or mean or anything, they actually made me super happy to see! i’m really glad you like it.

coming back after writing all the stuff, there’s a lot so i’m putting a ‘keep reading’ thing. seriously there’s so much

what was going through my head… hm. it’s like, i imagine Marcy having lots of nightmares about things that happened to her, or things that could have happened, stuff like that. i’ve read a lot of fanfic so now i really like the idea of her clutching her shirt when remembering being impaled. or even just for comfort, to know that her weakest point is covered in moments of terror. also she’s crying. sobbing. the only times she recovers quickly after bad nightmares is when she’s with the others.

i really like the idea of the Core not only sticking her in a box in her mind, but also showing her things. like to keep her from trying to get out. can’t resist if your mind is shattered and devoid of hope! anyway i mean like using the illusions to show her various things, situations, people. more peaceful ones where she’s with her girls, only to realize they aren’t there. terrifying ones where they make her live through her worst memories, her betrayal (of her and by her), her death, her torture and possession. twisted situations where Anne and Sasha proclaim that they can’t be seen with her, they can’t trust her, even hate her for what she’s done. sometimes the Core sticks her in unending darkness so they don’t have to think of anything, or if they’re focused on something else and need her out of the way (this is where the thing about being unable to sleep or feel safe in complete darkness is from). sometimes they’ll make a fake scene where it seems as though she is being shown what her body is doing, she can see through her eyes, and then she hurts people. kills people. sometimes it will be real, but she doesn’t know that, and she will still hurt people. when whoever in the Core in charge of her is feeling particularly cruel, they’ll do a simulation of her being saved. rescued. freed. forgiven. she’s finally with her girls. but. she isn’t. she’s still here. of course they didn’t save her, why would they? she’s a horrible person, and she did so much unforgivable stuff? why would they ever want to save someone like her? (shit this is long, yeesh. well i’m having fun soo-) sometimes Anne and Sasha kill her as she’s possessed, because she needs out of the way, and her life doesn’t matter anyway. sometimes they free her and then take their fury at her out on her by hurting her.

recovery from that is incredibly hard. when she’s rescued, she doesn’t believe it. firmly denies it, hides from them, tries to keep them from hurting her, curls into a ball and refuses to acknowledge them. because they aren’t real, they aren’t. hasn’t she been through this enough? it takes the others a while to convince her she’s in reality, and that yes, they do really forgive her. she’s actually completely free.

later in life she has trouble discerning reality from her nightmares. she has insane trust issues. she can’t walk, not by herself. she’s terrified of fire, because fire is what impaled her, killed her, and fire is the color of the eyes that haunt her. a small zap of static electricity is enough to send her into a flashback of her possession, of the chair, of fire and lightning and code flowing into her, burning burning burning. once someone tried to calm her by grabbing her wrists, which only sent her further. the cuffs. they chained her down. she can’t move she can’t move! the color orange makes her nervous, if there’s too much of it she half convinced they’ve taken over somehow and tinted her vision the color of her nightmares. (looking at this you’d really think i’d be able to write something. i should write something) sudden complete darkness, such as someone turning off a light without warning, has her half believing whatever just happened wasn’t real, that the Core got bored and stuck her in the darkness. sound and small lights can help her come back to reality. sound because the Core wouldn’t let sound into their void, that would defeat the point! and small lights because if it all comes back quickly it just means the simulation has been turned back on. better to show her something small but concrete. Anne and Sasha have gotten really good at realizing when she needs a reality check, and then knowing her to ground her. (btw she doesn’t move away because i need her to have a support system. she might actually go crazy if she’s separated from her friends) ( whAT THE FUCk-?? this is so long! i need to wrap up! holy shiiiit) Marcy likes to hold their hands to help her remember where she is. physical touch is very grounding. the Core could never get it right so it’s even more so. after some nightmares she flinches from touch, so other things are needed, but once she’s returned from the hell in her mind she needs touch. sometimes weighted blankets help to ground her when she feels as though she might almost float away, sometimes they chain her down and trap her beneath the weight of all her mistakes.

there’s probably more, but if i kept going i’ll just have written a whole ass fic in an ask answer. hope you liked it! if not idk what i can give you (you’ll like it, because it’s great)

i don’t think i’ve ever written things out like things before, i should do that more. it helped to have specific questions, so thanks man i guess? heh.

[spiralinghours]

“Personal Assistant” Pt 6

Fandom: Saw franchise

Characters/Pairing: Mark Hoffman x fem/afab reader

Rating: PG-13? For this part maybe?

Tags/Warnings: feeding kink, belly kink, chubby Hoffman (duh obviously), bratty behavior, banter, switchy behavior for both characters, animal name calling/terms (lotta bear and maybe some pig and/or cat endearments here), general adult language

Summary: It’s Hoffman’s birthday so his secretary takes him out (even if her motivation is pretty selfish).

Author’s Notes: Written as a light, little distraction, so please enjoy��hopefully it’s a nice little distraction for you too.

None of these installments really take place in any particular order, btw. They’re just little slices of life.

WAY MORE emphasis on the feedery stuff in this one. Just be warned (or be excited idk).

As usual, there might be grammatical and spelling errors that I’ll try and fix later.

Hoffman begrudgingly (though still tender and endeared towards you) let you drag him around downtown, settling at some nice though generic enough restaurant that you had made reservations at. He wasn’t a man super keen and enthused about celebrations and milestones, which was why he moved hesitantly along when you sprung it on him that you were taking him out for his birthday. It took some investigative work on your own, under his nose, but in a workplace where everything about everyone was on record, in print, it wasn’t hard to learn his birthdate.

“Cheer up, you big grumpy bear,” you chimed, guiding him towards the restaurant entrance with a hand on his back.

“You must really be sweet on me to go to this trouble. You know I don’t care about this kinda thing.”

“Don’t make it sound sappy,” you hushed him. “Secretaries do shit like this for their bosses. Keep them organized and on task and content. It may as well be part of my job.”

“I dunno, darlin’. There’s a lot you do for me that isn’t necessarily part of the job description.”

“So don’t let it go to your big head, because maybe that’s for me. Anyways, you better say thank you. You’re gonna love it here.” You bustled around hautily, feeling as though you should have clipped a leash to your boss to get him to haul his ass. (“He’d probably like that,” you noted.)

His stern features softened, taking a moment to cast a glance down at you warmly. “I know I will, babydoll. Maybe I’m humoring you because you went to so much trouble. And you look so pretty.” His look took a sassy slant as he looped a finger through a loose strand of hair hanging by your ear.

“Oh yeah yeah,” you rolled your eyes (one time of hundreds to come that night). You leaned your head away, strand of hair untangling from his finger. “You’re humoring me? You act like you’re not excited to eat.”

“I think you’re the one excited that I’m gonna be eating,” he grinned in that smug feline way. He made a demonstration of grazing a hand over his softened belly, which you smacked lightly.

You took hold of his necktie (a nicer heather purple one you had picked out and left in his office that morning, almost as a threatening reminder of the occasion) and yanked it lightly, bringing his face down towards yours. “We can turn around and leave. Because you don’t sound so excited to have a nice dinner, birthday boy.” You sliced in the moniker like a cutting insult.

Hoffman enclosed his large hands around yours, still encircling his tie. “This is very sweet of you, and I would love nothing more than to have my very beautiful—and very hard ass—assistant spoil me and shove cake in my mouth for dessert.”

Your eyes lit up. “I’ll shove cake in your mouth if you’re good and finish all your food. All of it.”

“Whatever you want, honey. I’m on my best behavior tonight.”

You loosened your hand from his tie, letting your fingertips drift down his chest. “I’m gonna roll you outta here when we’re done,” you whispered, voice a little rough on the edges with excitement. But it was so goofy you had to giggle.

“That’s kinky, baby. I wish you would.” He gave you that snarky grin once again and let you drag him through the foyer by his jacket lapel.

—

You had sort of glazed over what all Hoffman had eaten, even though he let you order each course for him. The only vague reminders were the remaining dishes with crumbles of sausage and sauce, or some coated in chimichurri and bloody steak juices. A lot of meat and pasta for a big guy, you justified.

More attention was paid to how worn Hoffman was looking, and how he had adjusted his pants as he finished off each dish. You had noticed at two separate points his hands roamed downwards to undo some buttons; the first time was the lowest button on his shirt, which tucked uncomfortably tight under the curve of his belly; the second time was the main button on his pants, which would have been straining more obviously if not for his belt and suspenders keeping him strapped into his clothes.

You peeked under the table to confirm which buttons and other clasps had come undone. Grinning, you reached your high heel across the booth to toe at his gut teasingly.

You could see him wince slightly as he gripped your ankle and started massaging your calf—all an attempt to stop poking at his overfull belly.

“Please, baby, none of that now,” he pleaded softly, tiredly. He was so cute and pathetic with his sleepy blue eyes and his muffled little burps, all the while still tending to rubbing your leg (as if it wasn’t his own birthday that he should have been pampered on).

“So no cake?” you pried, eyebrows raised.

He looked at you somewhat defeated—all typical traces of sarcasm and cockiness dulled down (but never completely gone). “Can we take it to go? I think I need to lay down.”

“Of course, Hoffy-Bear. I’ll be nice about it since it’s your birthday. I guess.” You blepped your tongue out at him before gesturing towards the server for a little to-go cake and the check (on Hoffman’s card of course).

Once those final details had been squared away, you took your time getting up from the booth, savoring the way your boss heaved himself to his feet. The way he pulled himself up and out from the cushy red seating was such a feat, looking heavy and laborious. He hadn’t bothered fastening back up the two loosened buttons, but instead did the whole maneuver of hoisting his belt and waistband up with a small grunt.

He wasn’t the type to let on that he was struggling—at least not in public—and so kept his whining and wincing under his breath… Though his shallow breathing was hard to mask. Especially with the foolish attempts to suck in his gut, which barely moved with his inhale, so it rounded out burdensomely in front of him. Being so stuffed and moving so cautiously only emphasized the distinct waddle in his gait.

“Need help?” you couldn’t help but pipe up, spikes and lace all in your tone. As you stood, you placed one hand on his lower back—as you had when you all had entered—but the other secured firmly to his stomach, all solid and warm.

“Thought you were gonna be nice,” he grumbled at you.

You just giggled, guiding him out with slow, steady steps.

—

“Comfy, sir?” you inquired in an overly-babying tone.

You two had hauled it back to your apartment (Hoffman was seldom big on having you over at his, blaming the lack of comfort or too much mess) where you had let your boss settle back onto your bed. Lacey, silky trimmings fluttered around him as he took in the comfort of all your pillows under his back and head.

He didn’t quite answer, though he looked to be on the brink of sleep: eyes shading down lower than usual, blue irises glassy. A fragile “Mmmm” left his lips.

“Too tired for that birthday cake?” you prodded.

“Ugh… I guess not. Not if you promise to be sweet on me if I eat it.”

“Of course, Hoffy. Anyways, you gotta blow out your candle and make a wish.”

He nodded incoherently, allowing you the moment to retrieve the cake in the kitchen and plate it up with a single lit candle.

When you returned, seating yourself within the little room his lap allowed, he had groggily repositioned himself so that his suspenders were undone and slack at his sides, with one hand enveloped beneath his undershirt, and the other clutching one of your stuffed animals in the cleft between his chest and his tummy. It was too adorable. If he was more awake to catch you gawking he would’ve barbed something smart off at you. But he was so damn tired.

“Okay make a wish,” you instructed, cake held out in front of his face.

“Not even gonna sing to me, huh?”

“Do you really want me to?”

You exchanged shit-giving glances before he blew out the little flame. You immediately scooped a heaping bite of Devil’s Food onto the fork and poised it before his lips, your other hand gingerly propping his chin up.

Without question, he slid his mouth over the fork, pinkened thick lips becoming slick with frosting and saliva.

The motion repeated in silence, save for some quiet groans and hiccups on his part. The thing was, the slice was bigger than typical—really meant to serve two to four people.

“Such a good boy for finishing all that,” you cooed with a slight edge of condescending playfulness. “Whatta big bear.” You set the plate aside and gave his belly a light but firm pat. Other than the very obvious visual evidence, you could feel how stuffed he was in how his gut barely had any give to the touch, under that black, stiff, starched fabric. Only a solid wobble as he shifted around and breathed.

“Ugh, I feel like going into hibernation. You don’t need to coddle me like that,” he snipped, too incapacitated to sound threatening.

“Maybe I wanna. Whatcha gonna do about it?”

“Nothing I guess. Too full of cake… Which is entirely your fault.”

You were about to sass him for such choice words, when you decided to indulge in the situation instead. You spread your fingers over his broad sides, brushing up against the dips of his love handles, and raked your touch in a deep massage.

Hoffman squirmed slightly, a tiny frustrated grunt bumbling from his lips. “Knew it.”

“What?” you feigned offense, not relenting at your soft, slow presses into his bulk.

“This wasn’t for my birthday, this was so you could get me all fat and sleepy and play with me like I’m some kinda toy.”

“Aren’t you? My big stuffed bear,” you laughed lightly.

It was his turn to roll his eyes at you. Nonetheless he reached a hand over one of yours, guiding your smaller palm around his gut. “Right there… Ah… Yes. Like that. A little softer, please.”

“Usually I’d give you shit for trying to micromanage me, but I did promise to be nice.”

“That’s right.” Hoffman pinched your chin with his free hand.

You undid the rest of his shirt buttons, looking over how the tight white shirt underneath had rolled up over the curve of his stomach.

“I know it’s not typical,” he went on, “but would it be so bad if I fell asleep here tonight? I’m fucking exhausted.”

“You don’t have to work tomorrow?”

“I made a point to take tomorrow off. So if I’m not at work, neither are you.”

“I can’t argue with that,” you murmured, roaming your hands up to his face, pushing away the unkempt curtain of black hair that had previously been slicked back. “Well, I’ll be sure to get up early anyways. Gotta make you a decent breakfast.”

[fezwearingjellybananas]

I think I have an idea for the July Year of the OTP prompt which involves going back and reading Bombshells oh what a terrible shame

Still no ideas for June. May has been written for over a month I had fantasy AU and flower language put in front of me and whacked out some words pretty quickly. I don't know how many words because they're all in one document so I can pretend it's one WIP not 12 (or 9 now)

[soosoosoup]

snowzone

[expectiations]

Thinking of how "left me like a book on a shelf" is from River's POV and therefore does not mean it is the entirety of the story much like how "the Doctor does not and has never loved me" was uttered from a River who was grieving.

Like the Doctor could have spent a long time putting the TARDIS in stationary orbit around the Library. The Doctor could have puttered about with the Library from years before it was shut down to ensure that everything would go smoothly while doing his best not to change a single thing. And on days when it is too hard, he just stares at the Library from his perch on the TARDIS door. Waiting, hoping, thinking. Trying to find a way out for her. For them.

And he does!

He finds a hundred ways to get her out of the data core. But...something always goes wrong. It's somehow never good enough. She's back, but she's not entirely there.

So he scratches it out, slaps himself, and tries again.

And again.

And again.

But his plans always fail.

But they don't. Not really. His plans could work. Could have worked. His beloved Sexy would help him. She'd always help him when it comes to her Water. But he was too scared. Too frightened of failure. Because one single mistake. One. Single. Mistake. And she's gone. He can never get her back. Forever.

So he runs. And runs. And runs. Until centuries has gone by and companion come and gone. Until he met a younger, more alive version of her. And then they had Darillium. And oh the joys of wonderful joys, what a night that was.

But things end. Even for him. They had to part ways again. Had to say goodbye. So he tries again. Picks up what his previous self had shelved. He tries. Oh how he tries.

But still. That fear exists. Is it worth it? Can he finally accomplish what he'd started a literal lifetime ago?

(He doesn't.)

Off on another lifetime with a new body. He's a...she now? Oh and shorter! Wow. That's new! I wonder what Ri–

On the rare moments she allows herself to succumb to sleep she goes to their his her study. She takes a moment to take everything in. It's unrecognizable now – the study that once was theirs filled with warmth and laughter and-

Every single space was taken. Covered by plans of plans of plans spanning...two...lifetimes now. Sexy still kept it just as it was the last time he she had been in there.

Their His Her favorite throw was still where it was – on their his her favorite corner of their his her favorite couch.

Nothing had changed but everything had changed.

She curled up and buried her face hoping it would still smell of her (It did. They never knew how it worked but somehow her smell still lingered anyway. They thought they were hallucinating at first but other people had been able to smell it too. Sometimes they forget but Sexy also lost her too).

She was a he again. The same face they had four lifetimes ago. The same face who was the first to keep the memory of their meeting.

But wh- what? Why? How? Is this it? Is this the body that finally brings her back home? A fitting act really. He put her in there and so he'll also put her out of there.

But... she wasn't there. Nothing was there. Nothing but chunks of debris and ashes and smelted...somethings.

When he blinked his eyes open (when had he closed them?), Donna's worried face greeted him. He blinked again and blinked. Nothing changed. Everything has changed. He had waited for far too long. He had made her wait for far. too. long. He feared of failing her but now he actually has failed her.

Everything was bland now. Was it just him or is everything a bit...on the side of grey? Donna looks at him like he might break. (He won't. He's a Time Lord. Time Lords don't break.) Even Sylvia had taken to treating him a bit more kindly.

He goes off alone with Sexy. His return to the Noble-Temple (Temple-Noble) household becomes fewer and further in between. One day he finds himself in Venice. Wonderful Venice. His Pond and her Roman (who wasn't yet a Roman) had gone here. There were vampires. And running and –

River?

No silly. River wasn't there.

He blinked. And blinked again. Made sure the sky was blue and the clouds still fluffy white. But was that his leather jacket that just whizzed by past him? Wait. Hold on. That was... Was that? Oh no. It wasn't. It couldn't be. Did they? No. They couldn't have.

But of course, apparently they did. Because that was actually his leather jacket wearing self that just passed by him again(?) tugging along his very-much-not-dead wife along running from... Hold on. Why are they running? What- Who's shooting at her?!

[batsplat]

post yamaha divorce (pt 2) jorge and valentino u r special 2 ME

[gumdefense]

Because I have Gumshoe and Kay on the mind and I will always find an excuse to share stage play propaganda can we talk about how perfect their dynamic is in it

English subtitles by Rayne :D and Grace Rivalsforlife !

[your-ne1ghbor]

Magnifico's "Wish Stealing form" design/some Character Dump (Disney Wish)

Oh boy ya'll in a BIG BIG Story beat plus some more information on Amaya and Magnifico in my rewrite:

The Kingdom of Roses and Thorns

Oh yeah...this is another long post and Ik @oh-shtars @chillwildwave @signed-sapphire @annymation @uva124 @rascalentertainments is gonna love this idea

For starters...

I Had this nightmare of Magnifico because of this form and now you all will see it too :3

There were also other posts that inspired this design too, so I'll link them here:

Anyways, this post is mainly an MAJIOR STORY IDEA DUMP for my sweet sweet emo Maggy- erm Magnifico (he is glaring at me guys send help please)

Soooo....

I had this terrifying idea for TKoRaT Maggy, even before I had this nightmare of him, where he legit becomes somewhat something like this, but with more vine core when he is taking the wishes/"monster in my closet" wrong vibes.

More like this for the idea I'm going for:

This is one of the ideas I had for Maggy when he is taking the wishes. This is might not be final in my final version of Maggy, hell, I might change that particular design to be Amaya's form when she takes the wishes too, since hers is more smoke which is more or not on par with her character in my rewrite/redesign. It might end up being more of Maggy's thing with Amaya helping him get into this state of transformation to take the wishes since I'd imagine it more of a whole process, but it could also just be something they both do together.

Some more design details I added was his scars from when his kingdom was attacked and almost everyone died because he showed mercy to the attackers. He doesn't really have them in his main design, probably because he covers them up with Amaya's potions or the wishes could have some form healing abilities? Idk I'm still firguring out the magic system of my story or that I just keep forgetting to put those scars in his design so awesome???💀

In my post here, I said that they don't hold ceremonies that has them granting/taking the wishes like they did in the movie. This is mainly because I wanted to do a little something original and gives me the oppertunity to take in the horror aspects of the story (because I love scaring children(not in a bad way, but to show them that there are these kinds of people in the world yk?)). This is why I am intentionally making Maggy and Amaya horrifying in their own way because well...good people can become the bad guys if pushed in the right direction. Especially in what they do to other people. Mainly inspired from Hunchback and Prince of Egypt, with subtle, but TERRIFYING pieces.

BUT, They do have a ceremony, but it is not related to the wishes, it is just there to give them some sympathetic traits to Maggy and Amaya (after all they've been through, I just feel bad, they literally wanted to good things and the world just beat them with a 90 foot pole).

This one I tried making Maggy more jagged. Although it seems like he is a different character here, thats mainly my fault since I really tried to figure out what he would say to Star Boy in this "idea" scene but my brain blanked out and couldn't think of anything so wahoo

Star Boy in this scene doesn't even know he has a desire, he just didn't think stars can form desires (ofc Maggy and Amaya is going to manipulate the hell out of him and Asha :3)

ALSO

This is also the main reason I split Star Boy's powers between what Amaya and Maggy does.

Maggy has only 1 shape-shifting form, and it is only done to steal the wishes. He can't shape shift into anything else, but it is why when he steals star's powers, he becomes more of a terrifying shapeshifter.

Amaya creates dangerous potions, and more or not lurks in the darkness in some way like a cat to bring them to their doom. Although it would make more sense if Maggy has the creation part of Star's powers, I gave it to Amaya since it works for her too, and keeps the power system balanced in some way. If I do give Amaya the ability to also shapeshift into a monster from my dreams, I could also say the same thing can work in reverse too, I just personally think the creation part of her character conflicts with Asha's ability to create/draw magic.

Power wise for this design...

This form also gives Maggy the ability to see people's desires that HE could take. He can't really take them until they are 17-18 years old and older (ruh oh, 2 of our main protagonists fall under that age gap). Plus, he cant take them from children since they are young and dont understand these kinds of things.

This form also falls under the MAIN conflict of why the hell is everyone miserable when they turn around 17/18 years old? Oh yeahhh this is going to fall under how he steals the wishes, but I'm not going to say anything here yet because I really want it to be a surprise.

Nothing that he does is not without reason. He blames the stars for not granting his wish (there is a reason why they didn't), and for not stepping in when a star, or Aster (NOT STAR BOY) went "rouge" (not Aster's fault btw, they didn't have a choice). So, this presented him with this ideology (that I personally believe Amaya first started thinking this way, out of pain and wanting to blame someone for what happened a century ago) that in order for people to not wish on stars, is for them to never wish/dream again. The story in my version is the aftermath of this. Still figuring out THE MAJIOR STORY BEATS, but this falls under Star Boy as well.

Star Boy represents the thing Magnifico hates the most. Plus, Maggy has more of a personal beef with the stars so of course he is going to make sure Star Boy dies, becauseeee he didn't do it last time, so second times the charm, am I right? (OR MAYBE THE THIRD WHO KNOWS, LETTING THE STORY WORK ITSELF OUT ;3)

ORIGINALLY, this was going to be Amaya's thing, but as I said, this might end up being mainly Maggy's thing, or it is something they both do, since they share the same goal, but here is the designs I was going to show for that:

Anywaysssss, ya'll can ask me questions regarding to this design if ya'll want to! I'll gladly answer them! I also will accept suggestions for the design/abilities for this "wish stealing..." thing. I might come up with a better name for this form later. Soo have a happy weekend as your neighbor watches some marvel movies as I work on my projects for my classes.

explodes

Edit: Okay my imagination took my to the most tragic part of his character then randomly imagined star boy getting stabbed by this guy and said "now you feel the pain I felt when everyone died" and star boy, in the worst condition says "almost everyone" then gets a another stab from him💀

[iholli]

glaring directly into the sun as I write them into my unpublished f/o list

[phoenixcatch7]

I know 'person with secret to hide spots other person with secret to hide but doesn't say anything' is like. Thee trope in superhero crossovers, but come on! Some of these guys have been doing this for decades! There's tons of heroes that have gone to pretty extreme lengths to be Completely Imperceptible in civilian life.

Don't you think it's scarier, after all is said and done, to sit there and think I didn't notice a thing? I wouldn't have ever realised? I would never have known? To know that someone you were familiar with - close with, even! - had this whole other personality and skillset and powers and experiences and life just behind the curtain, and they hid it so completely you didn't even see it was there.

'I always knew there was something off' what if you didn't. How world shaking would it be to be so utterly blindsided? To know that this person had somehow learned to so deceptive?

[clockworkcrow]

fucking hate being an academic because it means every now and again you have to re-test your hypotheses and thus i listened to like five new taylor swift songs only to come to the same conclusion as every other time i’ve tried listening to a new taylor swift song: they were made exclusively for 2009 eurodance boybands to make covers with music videos that read incredibly queer despite pronoun-swapping to retain the lyrics’ heterosexuality which is an inexplicable experience that you just have to live with until the the lead singer comes out as gay in 2015 barely two months after obergefell v hodges. and we just don’t have that kind of ecosystem anymore

[st4r-t3ars]

Buff Hound