#i just feel like there’s something so special and magical about it

[yandere-sins]

Hi! I just currently discovered your works and I love it! Can you do a story where a serial killer (any fictional character you want, as long as it's not real people) who has gotten married to the y/n's mom but he's so obsessed with his new step-daughter the first time they met. The ending's up to you.

Hey! Thank you so much for reading my stories and requesting ♥ Took me some time to think of something, and I won't do a specific character, but I hope you enjoy it regardless!

»»———————— ♡ ————————««

A long time ago, he chose to go down this path.

The decision had to be made; any waver in his resolve would have resulted in him getting caught and locked up for life. Sometimes, it was nice to be with the humans that would end up dead; sometimes, it was merely business. There were some pleasures to take from these gullible idiots. Money, sex, opportunities.

Businesswomen, housewives, lonely singles, and, if he had to, men just as much. They only sought the warmth of a lover, someone who truly understood them. And why would he not accept their gratitude and gifts for so little work as rubbing their back and telling them how special they were? It made them feel better most of the time and him richer, as their gratitude almost always ended in gifts.

And in their contentment, they didn't see the knife that was about to sink into their back as soon as they weren't useful to him anymore.

As soon as their money ran out, the gifts died down, and they started to become suspicious of him; he'd make sure to skip town after burying his latest lover in a ditch. He never met their friends, never saw what the life of his victims was, and especially: he didn't love them.

Oftentimes, he wondered, late at night, after yet another kill, what it was like to be loved and to love. His victims always looked so happy and content, hanging off his arm and whispering the magic words to him at night. What he did wasn't right, but why did it matter when he never got caught? As long as he could live in the lap of luxury that he could never achieve through honest work, he didn't really need much else.

But he was getting old.

Too old to sugar-baby his way through life, at least, too much on par in terms of age now with his victims. It physically hurt him to have to be extra careful in the future when killing random strangers. It would never give him the satisfaction or the looks of betrayal that left him all hot and bothered. But now was the last time he could find someone willing to finance his life, and giving up his prolific murder spree was better than spending the rest of his damnation in a dirty, old motel room with nothing to do.

Thus, his way of life ended. A serial killer turned houseman and loverboy to a very successful CEO and mother. Thanks to his charms, the wedding went through much faster than expected, and soon enough, with a credit card linked to her bank account and well-situated in the luxury home of his now-wife, everything could have stayed like this for a long, long time.

Until you showed up.

You were a blessing and a curse in the form of an adult stepchild. It was weird meeting the family of his victim for the first time. But the moment he laid eyes on you, his mouth began to water, pupils blown wide to spy every inch of deliciousness that you swept through the front door to his home. And despite spikes of murderous desires making his body shake uncontrollably, even more prevalent was the twisting and churning of his heart as it beat viciously against his ribs, blood rushing through his whole body and especially between his legs.

All evening long, he couldn't stop smiling at you. He sat across from you like a silly little teenage boy, nodding and listening to everything you told your mom, words dripping off your lips like honey that he wished to lick up. However, he merely did the next best thing, offering to take care of the dishes so he could lick your plate clean and steal your cutlery to enjoy later. He sat with you long into the night on the couch as you told him about yourself; you two had never met before since the wedding was such a rushed affair, and you were the trust fund child sent to an international college for your studies. There was so much to catch up on and get acquainted with.

If only he had met you sooner.

The time together was short, so he suggested all kinds of family vacations, telling his wife it was totally okay if she couldn't make it, and he'd spend time with you and bond. All was in his favor, and every second spent with you was the happiest of his life. For years, he thought that only riches and luxuries could satisfy him—but not anymore.

He had to have you.

No matter what he had to do, fate had already been decided. There was simply no way to not be with you. Slipping into your bed at night and touching you as much as possible just wasn't enough. Stealing your underwear and imagining you on your knees while he used the fabric on himself didn't quell his urges completely. Not even when he imagined you while pleasing his wife was enough, and neither was smelling you every day and pressing up to you innocently in the kitchen or hanging out with you. You going back to another country to continue your studies? Impossible. It would have killed him.

And then, the painfully put aside urges arose. The ones that screamed for blood and gore, torture, and the satisfaction of witnessing someone's last breath. He had already established himself in your life, and you liked him enough that were you to lose someone dear to you... would you run to him?

The question was just a hypothesis, but one that had him rock hard and twitching as he stared at the ceiling at night, feeling his wife—your mother—in his arm, sighing contently. What was her testament like? Would there be enough to live happily ever after with you? Would you accept your stepdad as more than just a superficial family member? Would you let him hold you? Kiss you? Lick you? Make you scream and sob?

Would you allow him to drag you into hell with him, even though he'd make it seem like heaven?

It had always been his way of doing things. Pretend to be someone perfect, pleasant, and loveable, when really, he was this cruel, pathetic monster. But a long time, he chose to go down this path of embracing the beast, and sitting up in his bed, he remembered still holding onto the table knife you used on the first day you returned home. It would be awful, downright gruesome, to be killed by her own daughter's knife, wouldn't it? Your mom would feel so betrayed by being stabbed in the middle of the night; it would be heart-wrenching and devastating.

Absolutely exhilarating.

Why change something that had always worked for him?

By tomorrow morning, you would be his.

[asiantransformations]

Inked for Greatness

My tattoo shop wasn’t just a place for art—it was my altar of transformation. With every stroke of my needle, I didn’t just mark skin; I rewrote destinies. Yuki was my crowning achievement. I saw it the moment he walked in: a lean, uncertain young man who didn’t yet understand his potential.

Yuki was perfect for my craft.

I started him small—a sigil of growth etched into his shoulder, its curves and symbols almost imperceptibly pulsing with power. The changes came slowly at first: a little more size in his arms, a slight broadening of his chest. He came back weeks later, excited about how “great” he felt, eager for more. I smiled as he asked for his next piece, knowing this was only the beginning.

With every tattoo, his body evolved. His biceps swelled into veiny, granite peaks that screamed power with every flex. His shoulders rounded into dense, cannonball-like deltoids, framing his now barrel-like chest. His traps rose thick and powerful, connecting to a neck that had widened with dominance. His abs chiseled themselves into a perfect grid, and his legs became columns of raw strength, quads rippling with every step.

But it wasn’t just his body that changed—it was his mindset. The magic infused into the ink worked its way into his mind, planting seeds of confidence, focus, and even pride. Yuki started walking taller, speaking louder, smiling wider. He was becoming the image of perfection, the kind of man who turned heads wherever he went.

Yet for all his outward changes, I could see the cracks beneath the surface. His body was magnificent, a masterpiece of strength, but his mind? It was fragile, too weak to wield the power he now carried. He didn’t realize it, but he didn’t own his body—it owned him.

That’s when I knew. Yuki didn’t deserve to be the vessel for this perfection. I would take what he couldn’t handle. I would be the rightful owner of the body I had created.

————————————————————————

When Yuki came in for his final tattoo, I knew it was time.

“I want something big,” he said, his deepened voice now carrying a weight of confidence that almost made me laugh. “A back piece. Something that shows how far I’ve come.”

I nodded, hiding my anticipation. “I’ve got just the thing. It’ll tie all your tattoos together, make you the most powerful version of yourself.”

He grinned, utterly unaware of what I had planned. “Let’s do it.”

As he lay on the table, his massive frame barely fitting, I prepared the ink. This batch shimmered with a dark crimson hue, alive with a magic so potent it seemed to hum in the air.

“This is going to be special,” I said, my voice steady as I pressed the needle into his back. The sigil I designed was intricate, its lines flowing like rivers of power. It was a sigil of dominion, designed not to enhance him—but to bind him.

The ink seeped into his skin, spreading its magic like roots. Yuki didn’t notice at first, too distracted by the hum of the needle and the occasional compliments I gave him. But as I finished the last line, the sigil activated.

The lines glowed crimson, the light pulsing outward to connect with every other tattoo on his body. Yuki stiffened, his breath hitching.

“What... what’s happening?” he asked, his voice cracking with sudden unease.

“It’s the final stage,” I said calmly, stepping back to admire my work. “Your body is adjusting to the power. Don’t worry—it’ll all be over soon.” The sigil wasn't just enhancing him, it was linking us together.

His muscles flexed involuntarily, the sigils on his arms, chest, and legs glowing faintly as the magic coursed through him. His breaths came faster, his massive chest heaving.

“Whoa, I feel... weird,” he muttered, his voice trembling now. “I'm separating... Like I’m not in control.”

“Because you’re not,” I said, my voice low, almost reverent.

“What...?” His words faltered as the sigil worked deeper, binding his body and mind to me.

I could feel it then—his thoughts, his emotions, his weak, feeble protests. His mind was small, trembling, barely able to comprehend what was happening.

“You’ve been given everything,” I said, circling him like a predator. “Strength. Power. Perfection. But your mind? It’s too fragile. You’re not worthy of this body.”

“No... no, I am,” he stammered, his voice breaking. “I’ve worked hard—”

“You’ve done nothing,” I snapped, cutting him off. “I gave this to you. I built this body. I made you perfect And now, I’m going to enjoy taking it back.”

The sigil flared, its crimson glow brightening as I pressed my hand against his back. Yuki let out a strangled gasp, his massive frame shuddering.

“Please,” he whimpered, his voice so small now, so helpless. “I can’t—please don’t—”

His mind was breaking, crumbling under the weight of the magic. I could feel it giving way, his thoughts fading as mine poured in.

“This body was never yours,” I whispered, my voice filled with both triumph and hunger. “You were just the placeholder. The vessel. And now, I’m taking what’s rightfully mine.”

Yuki’s protests dissolved into silence as my consciousness fully took hold. I felt the power of his body envelop me, the sheer strength in every muscle, the perfection in every line. I stood tall, rolling my shoulders and feeling the incredible width, the weight of my traps pressing against my neck.

I flexed my arms, marveling at the way the veins snaked across the massive peaks of my biceps. My chest expanded with a deep breath, the muscles stretching and contracting like steel cables.

“This... this is what perfection feels like,” I said, my voice deep and resonant in Yuki’s body. I ran my hands over the ridges of my abs, feeling their unyielding strength.

Yuki’s presence was still there, faint and distant, like a whisper in the back of my mind.

“You... you can’t...” his voice echoed weakly.

“I already have,” I replied, smirking. “You were too weak for this body. But don’t worry—I’ll take care of it. I’ll show the world what true power looks like.”

His voice faded completely, and I stood there, flexing, relishing the power that now belonged to me. Yuki’s body was mine, and with it, I would carve my own destiny.

————————————————————————

I stood before the full-length mirror in my shop, Yuki’s body—my body—radiating power like a beacon. The sigils I had etched glowed faintly beneath my skin, alive with magic, enhancing every detail of my form. This was no longer Yuki’s body, shaped and perfected yet bound by a weak mind. It was mine now, and my will was strong enough to unleash its full potential.

I flexed, watching the muscles ripple and bulge. My biceps rose like mountains, veins snaking across the surface, pumping with power. My pecs swelled, thick and solid, every striation visible under the shop’s lights. My abs were like carved stone, an impenetrable wall that tensed with every breath. This body was a masterpiece—but I wasn’t done yet.

The sigils on my skin began to hum, responding to my thoughts. They weren’t just markings anymore; they were alive, feeding on my willpower, amplifying my strength and focus. Yuki’s mind had been too feeble to fully unlock their potential, but I could feel the magic bending to me now, craving my direction.

I stepped closer to the mirror, tracing my fingers over the intricate lines of the sigil of growth on my shoulder. A surge of warmth spread through my body, and I watched in awe as my muscles swelled slightly, growing denser, thicker. The sigil responded to my command, its power flowing through me, pushing me beyond human limits.

I clenched my fists, feeling the raw energy coursing through every fiber of my being. “This is what strength truly feels like,” I said aloud, my voice a deep, resonant echo in the quiet room.

————————————————————————

The next morning, I decided it was time to test the body outside the shop. I threw on a tank top that barely contained my chest and arms and headed to a local gym—a place I knew Yuki had frequented. As I walked through the doors, heads turned immediately.

I could see the envy and admiration in their eyes, the way they whispered to each other. Some recognized the body as Yuki’s, but there was hesitation in their glances, as if they could sense something different.

I headed straight to the weight section. It was time to see just how far I could push this new vessel. Gripping the barbell, I loaded it with weights far beyond what Yuki could have lifted before. The sigils glowed faintly as I tightened my grip, and I felt an almost electric surge of strength.

With one powerful motion, I lifted the barbell overhead, the plates rattling as they strained against gravity. The room went silent as I pressed the weight effortlessly, the veins in my arms bulging, my shoulders burning with power.

The rush was intoxicating. I added more weight, pushing myself harder, testing every limit. Each time, the sigils responded, feeding me strength, endurance, and focus. My body grew warmer, my muscles swelling with each lift. I could feel the magic inside me, reshaping me, making me even more formidable.

As I finished my set, drenched in sweat that glistened on my skin, a group of gym-goers approached.

“Yuki, man, you’re insane,” one of them said, awe in his voice. “How did you get so big? So strong?”

I smirked, feeling the weight of their admiration. “Hard work and the right... tools,” I said, flexing my arm. The sigil on my bicep shimmered faintly, drawing their eyes.

“Those tattoos... they’re incredible,” another said. “Do they... do they help?”

“You could say that,” I replied, my voice dripping with confidence.

———————————————————————————

Over the following days, I explored every limit of my new body. The sigils responded to my will, pushing me further each time. My sigil of endurance allowed me to train for hours without tiring, my muscles swelling with every session. The sigil of focus sharpened my mind, giving me absolute clarity and control over my movements.

But it wasn’t just the physical changes that set me apart—it was my mind. Unlike Yuki, whose feeble thoughts had been overwhelmed by the power of the sigils, I embraced their magic. My willpower turned the tattoos into more than enhancements; they became extensions of me, tools for my ascension.

I began crafting new sigils, experimenting with the ink to see how far I could push my transformation. One night, I etched a sigil of magnetism along my collarbone, its lines intricate and deliberate. The next day, I walked into a crowded room and felt the shift immediately. Eyes turned to me, drawn by an unseen force. People gravitated toward me, their admiration palpable.

The attention was addictive. I started wearing tighter clothing, tank tops and shorts that showed off every inch of my sculpted physique. My tattoos became a signature, a part of my identity that drew people in. Everywhere I went, I could feel the power I held—not just in my body, but in the way people looked at me, envied me, desired me.

————————————————————————

One evening, I stood in front of the mirror again, admiring the culmination of my efforts. My body was larger now, more defined, every muscle honed to perfection. The tattoos glowed faintly in the dim light, their power radiating from my skin.

“This is how it was meant to be,” I said, running my hand over the ridges of my abs. “This body... this power... it was wasted on Yuki. But now, it’s mine. And I’ll take it further than he ever could.”

I flexed, watching the veins in my arms pulse, feeling the raw strength beneath my skin. The sigils hummed in response, their magic intertwining with my thoughts. I wasn’t just stronger—I was unstoppable.

And this was only the beginning.

[ihavesimpedovermanyfictionalmen]

Hi can you do a fluffy where austin and reader fell in love while shooting caught stealing and they are on their press tour together and the people are starting to speculate about their relationship through their chemistry and when austin is in a talk show to promote he gets emotional while talking about her which basically confirms their relationship and please make it in an austin pov

I can certainly try! I hope I did you justice!? 🙏

Unscripted

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: ᴀᴜꜱᴛɪɴ ʙᴜᴛʟᴇʀ x ꜰᴇᴍ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ: fluff... i think that's it

ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: The Request :)

a/n - the fact that i started writing on tumblr because I wanted to write smut and I don't know how to is crazy. so you're all getting fluff and cringe for a while. :)

 °。°。°。°。°。°。°。゜。°。°。 °。°。°。°。°。°。°。゜。°。°。

The press tour for Caught Stealing has been a whirlwind. Every red carpet, every interview, every photo op feels like it's a blur of bright lights and eager questions. But amidst all of that chaos, there's one thing that keeps me grounded: her. Y/N.

When we first met on set, I didn’t expect what would come next. Sure, I knew we’d have a strong connection, we always do when you’re working with someone as talented and as easy to talk to as her. But it wasn’t just chemistry in front of the camera—it was real. It was magic. And now, with every interview we do together, it’s hard not to notice the way our laughter feels a little louder, the way our conversations drift from script lines to something more personal. The way I can’t help but look at her when she speaks, the way she’s become my favorite person to share a quiet moment with.

But the thing is, we’ve been so careful. The fans—they are the ones who have started to notice. The way we interact on stage, the shared glances, the subtle touches. They’re picking up on what I’ve been trying to keep under wraps, trying to protect. I know it's not like we’ve been hiding it—it’s just... complicated, you know?

So there I am, sitting on a talk show, trying to keep it together. The host, ever the professional, starts talking about our on-screen chemistry in Caught Stealing and then... then she brings up the rumors. The fans speculating. The comments flooding in on Twitter. She flashes a cheeky grin, making some joke about whether or not there’s something more between Y/N and me, and I can feel the heat rising in my chest.

And I try to laugh it off, I really do. I say something about how we’re just great friends, how lucky I am to work with such a talented actress, but my voice shakes a little. Damn it, I can't lie about this. Not when she’s sitting in the room, when all I can think about is her smile, the way she makes everything feel light and easy.

The host presses on, asking if there’s any truth to the rumors, and suddenly I feel everything I’ve been holding inside come rushing to the surface. I take a deep breath, trying to steady myself, but then the words come tumbling out—unfiltered.

"I—" I pause, swallowing, my heart beating too fast. "I don’t know how to explain it... But, yeah, we have something special. I think anyone who’s watched us together can see it. She’s... she’s the kind of person that makes everything better. She’s been my support, my best friend, and, yeah, I’m in love with her. I’ve been in love with her for a while now."

The room is still silent for a beat, and I can feel the weight of everyone’s eyes on me. It’s the kind of silence that feels like it might stretch forever. I glance towards the camera, then back at the host, trying to collect myself. But then I see her face in my mind—Y/N’s. The way she’s always been there for me, not just on set, but in every small moment. The late-night talks, the quiet moments when no one’s watching, when we can just be ourselves.

But then I see it. See her. Y/N, watching from backstage on a monitor, her eyes wide and bright, her lips curving into a smile. I can practically hear her laugh, that soft, sweet laugh I’ve come to adore, and I don’t know how to stop the rush of emotions that flood my chest.

She’s the reason I’m here, the reason I can’t stop smiling no matter how crazy this all gets. The fans might have known before I did, but now, there's no hiding it anymore.

And then the host smiles, breaking the tension, her voice soft but knowing. "That’s beautiful, Austin. And I think we can all see it—the chemistry between you two is undeniable."

My breath catches. She’s not wrong. The way we laugh together, the way we finish each other’s sentences. It’s like we’ve known each other for years, and yet it feels so new, so fresh. I catch myself grinning at the thought of her, wishing she were here right now, maybe sitting right next to me.

“I think I’ve said enough,” I say, my voice softer now. "But the truth is, I’m lucky to have her in my life. I never expected this to happen, but I wouldn’t change it for the world."

There’s a pause, and I see the host nodding, clearly understanding what I mean. The camera zooms in just a bit closer, as if trying to capture every word I’ve said, but for some reason, it doesn’t matter. All I can think about is her.

And then the show moves on, as it always does. But as the lights dim and the interview wraps up, I know one thing for sure: this isn’t the end. It’s just the beginning.

And when I see Y/N later, when she steps into the room with that familiar smile, the one that always makes my heart skip, I know she feels it too. No more hiding, no more pretending. The world might’ve just found out, but we’ve been living this truth for a while now, and nothing else matters.

I’m in love with her. And it’s the most real thing I’ve ever felt.

[waterdeepwife]

Virgin! Tav Headcanons

Pairing: Gale x Fem! Reader

Warnings: NSFW, SMUT, soft top! Gale, vaginal fingering, p in v, oral sex both male and female receiving, vanilla and sweet sex, unprotected sex, after care, some silliness towards the end, typos? I think that’s all!

A/n: currently working on a oneshot of Gale with a virgin reader, but decided to headcanons as well! Mostly because I can get headcanons out faster.

When Gale finds out that you are a virgin, he feels honored, yet humble about being your first. He knows it’s a big deal to you, and you’re putting a lot of trust in him. So he wants you to feel as treasured and special as possible.

Despite being despite for your pussy, he reassures you that no, you don’t have to have sex with him right now. He will wait until you are ready, you just have to let him know. If you decide you want to move forward, Gale lets you know you can stop him whenever you want.

Definitely spends time on over the clothes thighs, like heavy petting or grinding. Making sure to get you as ready, but also ease you into new experiences. It’s going to be a slow and romantic first time.

Of course there is a safe word in place, something like the stoplight system or something very Gale like “magic”

If you are too shy to speak or verbally tell him what you like(or if you don’t know) Gale figures it out pretty quickly himself. He pays attention to your body and noises you make.

Once clothes start coming off, he whispers praises and compliments as his sucks your nipple into his mouth. Telling you that you are the most beautiful woman he has ever seen, you’re perfect, that he is going to take care of you, and thanks you for trusting him.

Gale always prefers his partners pleasure or his, and he only doubles down if you are a virgin. He leaves more kisses across your body, his hands wandering and massaging across your sides, thighs, tits and ass.

Once he finally settles between your legs, his eyes on your face the whole time. Gale starts slow as he slowly drags his tongue along your slit, using his fingers to part your folds. Once he figures out what you like he loses himself in your pussy, moaning and tasting your sweetness, as he tries to press his face as close as possible.

Gale will mov to focus his tongue on your clit, one finger teasing your entrance. Lustful, loving eyes looking at you for silent permission. Once he has ur Gale will slowly slip one of his long fingers inside you. He can feel how tight you are, how tense you are, and how he needs to get you to relax more. He doubles his efforts, tongue lapping at your clit, sucking it as he fingers your pussy. Slowly he’d slip another finger inside, stretching you out as gently as he can.

He doesn’t really care nor think about getting oral himself, he’s too busy focusing on making you feel good. Unless you mention wanting to please him, he won’t even bring it up. Gale is a bit stubborn and reluctant to switch the attention onto himself, but he can’t tell you no.

Gale would do one of two things. First one is he leans back against the pillows, spreading his legs and giving you free rein to do whatever you want to him. Or if you prefer he guide you, he will do that instead! Gently taking your hand and bring it to his awaiting cock. Gale will kiss your head and purrs sweet things to you, reminding you that you are safe and loved with him. That you can take your time or stop whenever you want.

If you are feeling shy or insecure about your inexperience, Gale decided the best way to combat this is to be as extra as possible. He moans loudly every time you stroke his cock, biting his lip and giving you desperate eyes.

You can see that he is shaking slightly, which is mostly due to him trying to hold back thrusting his hips into your hand. Gale doesn’t want to scare or hurt you, so he trying to reign in his desperation for your touch.

When you take him into your mouth he almost snaps, his fists clutching the sheets as he lets out loud moan that the camp definitely heard. Gale wills too you and switch potions, he wants to taste you as your taste him. But he also wants to keep you wet and relaxed for him.

Gale is so proud that he was the first man to give you an orgasm. He doesn’t say it, but you can see it on his face, a certain glint in his eyes and a smirk on his lips.

When it comes to actually penetrate you, he is incredibly sweet. A soft smile on his face as his kissed your cheek and forehead, his hand guiding the tip of his cock to rub up and down your pussy. Gale asks if you are ready and with your permission, he slowly pushed himself inside. He feels how tight you are, how your walls flutter around his cock as he carefully fills you up.

Gale would absolutely be horrified if he hurt you, so he goes as slow as possible as he watched your face and body language. At the first sign of pain he will stop, give you time to adjust or stop all together. He whispers about how sorry he is, how he loves you and you are such a good girl for taking him so well.

His thrusts start off as slow, calculated and loving. He rests his forehead against yours, staring into your eyes so he can monitor how you are feeling. As the discomfort of pain fades, your pussy loosening for him as you relax he will start to pick up pace. Once you are completely comfortable his thrusts become passionate and harder, mumbling praises, pleads, and I love you between sloppy kisses.

Gale begs you to let him cum inside your pussy, of course if you ask him to pull out he will, but he really wants to fill you up. If you let him he will whine “thank you, my love.” As he slams into you one last time before releasing his seed into you.

He will just stay inside for you a little longer, as you both try to catch your breath. He lifts his head from your shoulder, small hairs sticking to his forehead from the sweat. Gale gives you a goofy smile and says something like “how was that for your first time?” Trying to test the waters if you are okay, but to also get praise from you.

Of course he magics away in mess and holds you close to him, kissing you and rubbing any sore muscles you might have. Then his mirror image comes holding a cup of tea he had made, earning a laugh from you as you take the tea.

You are in good hands with Gale, you just have to trust him and relax.

[styxbugg]

the fraggle rock wrap party song always makes me feel so many things, especially this one specific part:

“We’ll work together some tomorrow. / We’ll be together once again. / Don’t ask us how, but we’ll achieve it, believe it, / We’ll be back, we’ll be new, we’ll be the same.”

and what i love is, with the context of the reboot, all of that is true!

we’ll be back: they did come back with the ‘back to the rock’

we’ll be new: the whole reboot is revamped with better graphics and effects, and some new performers

we’ll be the same: the reboot holds the same heart that the original has (feeling kind of more like a continuation than a reboot, to me at least) with some of the same performers as well

and just the fact that they made these promises, then about 35 years later they came true? it just feels so special

also i cried when i first listened to this song. so.

[daftpatience]

finally sending my busted old montblanc in for repairs after sitting on it for over a decade everyone wish me a not too expensive quote

[galactic-glamour-girl-posts]

The Warners' Surprisingly Fitting Concerns

You know, I never gave it much thought (outside of this dumb joke) but each Warner's verse in "We Could Try to Do It, Santa" fits their personality pretty well and is about the thing they'd naturally be the most concerned about in that situation.

Yakko's Verse:

At first his verse is about how they can't deliver the presents without Santa's magic and how they'd have to upgrade Santa's sleigh so it can fly fast enough to travel the world in one night, but then it's revealed his true major concern is how that would result in the reindeer getting hurt:

"Prancer and the others might burn up if we're that fast"

"And a sonic boom would work its way through Dasher, Donner, Dancer,

Soon engulfing Cupid, Comet; Santa, this can't be the answer!

See the last thing that we'd wanna do is make the reindeer yelp!"

As a protective older sibling, naturally Yakko would assume Santa of all people would want to protect the reindeer given that they are under his care, like how Yakko tries to protect his sibs. I think the switch up in the verse's focus also reflects how although Yakko's snarky yet jovial nature means he's not quick to be emotionally open and often hides or undercuts his sincerity with snark or humour; he still clearly deeply cares for his sibs and that will eventually show.

Wakko's Verse:

Well Wakko's verse is unsurprisingly about food, but I also wanna point out how it easily has the most extreme consequences of the three, given that the whole of Earth shatters.

This reflects how Wakko tends to go to extremes the most out of the Warners. Need to do a gag about having eyes at the back your head? Wakko will have nine rather than just two. The Warners are bouncing on springs during an earthquake? Wakko's bouncing on a spring upside down, etc.

The little guy loves being extra.

Dot's Verse:

Dot suggests spying on people in her verse. Dot specifically would be the Warner to sing about this when you remember her whole schtick is acting cute and innocent, but being way tougher, craftier and more violent than she appears.

She more than anyone would know that there's often more to people than meets the eye, and hence would be the one to point out the need for wiretaps, logs of web searches, etc. until they had a "constant feed of every single child on Earth" if they wanted to know what the each child in the world was truly like.

[vaguely-concerned]

I don't know what I love more, the fact that as rook you can make a statement in NO uncertain terms that you are NOT responsible one way or the other for the theological implications of the shit you're discovering in the 'regrets of the dread wolf' memories. not my jurisdiction. quite simply none of my business. not my chantry circus not my chantry monkeys. irrelevant to the matter at hand here we'll kill that god if we get to him he can get in line. or if the best thing about it is seeing the lone little 'lucanis approves' that pops up right after choosing it. corvid with a knife about to commit deicide keeping it real and sensibly, pragmatically, wilfully agnostic with me here in this magical lighthouse today

[rings-of-power-realm]

Literally crying (the good kind) after watching that trailer for like the fifth time today and I'm just so overwhelmed because this show Middle Earth and everyone in it is so important to me and these trailers have been so epic and beautiful full of emotion and light and dark and everything I love from Tolkien and LOTR films (since the trilogy was how I first got into Middle Earth) and I never thought I'd see something that would compare to LOTR Trilogy but The Rings of Power truly does. I care so much about these characters just like I do Frodo and Sam and Aragorn and Eowyn etc.

And it also makes me emotional hearing Bears beautiful rousing score once again he is gonna knock it out of the park. Im crying at Celebrimbor at Elronds desperate fight to save the world and people he loves at Galadriel and the huge weight she carries. I am so invested in them all.

It looks phenomenal from the music and costumes to the dialogue and set pieces this world is real they have made magic and it deserves so much appreciation so much love because I can see that it is made with heart and soul and is a story for all time, one that I am so grateful to hold so close.

[musubiki]

lately ive been thinking about the contrast going on in Early Lime where hes like "tbh im pretty sure i could have any girl i wanted including mochi i mean i guess if she wanted we could give it a shot one day but i dont really care lol" and then very easily becoming completely unhinged for her the second he gets a tinge of romantic affection

[paronymph]

they should create a new word for yearning specifically about aros and/or aces yearning because there is nothing that exists that comes close to expressing what we feel.

[innytoes]

My roommate is sick and all they could talk about was how much they miss that one soup you always made them so I drove four hours to come and get some + OT3 of your choosing

When Ray opened the door at 11PM on a Thursday night, he was a little surprised.

"Hi, Mister Molina?" the young man said, fidgeting his fingers together. "We spoke on the phone?"

Because yes, he had spoken with Julie's boyfriend on the phone. It was just that he was pretty sure Julie's boyfriend was Luke. He had been since they got together in high school. She'd been so excited to join Luke to get her music degree at the same top-notch university. (And yes, they had a long conversation about picking the best university for her, not just the one her boyfriend was at.)

But this young man was not Luke. He'd thought he sounded different on the phone, and strangely formal, but he thought it was just because they hadn't spoken as much since Luke went away to school.

His poor little nena, first she broke up with her high school sweetheart and now she had the flu? Why hadn't she told them about Luke? Was she worried they'd be disappointed?

"Yes, of course, come in," he said, waving the boy inside. He had messy hair, ripped jeans and a leather jacket, but Ray knew that looks didn't say anything. Any boy who was willing to drive four hours just to pick up soup for his sick girlfriend had to be a good egg.

"The soup is just about done, Rose was just letting it simmer until you got here," he explained as he lead him to the kitchen. The way the young man was trying to subtly sniff the air was rather endearing. "Would you like to try some?"

"Oh, I couldn't," the boy said, but he looked longingly at the big pot simmering on the stove. "It's Julie's soup."

"There's more than enough," Rose said, already grabbing a bowl and ladling some soup into it. If she was surprised at this Not Luke Boyfriend, she didn't show it. Behind the boy's back, he made a confused shrugging motion at his wife, and she just quirked an eyebrow at him. I don't know what's going on either, it said.

"Oh, well, if it's no trouble," the young man said, all but collapsing into one of the stools at the kitchen island. Rose handed him the bowl and a spoon, and when he took a deep whiff, his eyes fell closed in what appeared to be bliss. When he took a bite, he actually whimpered a little. When was the last time this poor kid had some homemade food? Ray remembered his own college years, and if he were to guess, that boy lived off ramen and grilled cheeses.

"This is really good, Mrs Molina," the boy said earnestly in between big bites. "No wonder Julie was craving it. This would make anyone feel better."

"How is she?" Rose asked.

"She was feeling pretty crummy when I left," the boy said. "But her fever was down and she was craving food again, so that's a good sign." He looked up, concerned. "I didn't just leave her alone! Luke's with her, and Alex and Willie are on standby to drive them to the emergency room if either of their fevers spike."

So Luke was still with her? Was the break-up amicable?

"I just felt so bad, I mean, I was the one who got sick first, and then I gave it to Luke, and Luke gave it to Julie, and they were both so miserable, and when she said she wanted her Mami's special soup I just thought, if that would make her feel better..." He trailed off when he realised he was rambling, flushing.

"You were sick too?" Rose asked, concerned. "You poor thing."

"I'm fine now," the boy reassured her, even though on closer inspection, he did still look kind of exhausted. He had dark circles under his eyes, and the way he was slumped over the bowl of soup told Ray he wasn't exactly fit as a fiddle yet. Maybe the soup would help, though. "And I can be out of your hair as soon as we pack the soup up. I'm so sorry to spring this on you."

"Anything for our Julie," Ray said, and the boy whirled around, eyes wide, like he'd forgotten Ray was there. Yeah, definitely not one hundred per cent yet. "You look tired, though. Are you sure you're okay to drive all the way back?"

"Yeah, totally," the boy said, before knocking back the last of the soup, holding the bowl up to his face to get it all. "I don't want to be a bother."

"You're not," Rose insisted. "And Ray's right, you look tired. If you just got over the flu yourself, you shouldn't be driving eight hours straight. Why don't you go take a nap for a few hours?"

"But Julie..."

"Won't want to be woken up at three in the morning anyway," Rose pointed out. The boy's face turned into a thoughtful pout. "Just sleep for a few hours, and you can get up bright and early tomorrow and bring her the soup. It'll do none of you any good if you fall asleep behind the wheel."

"I guess," he finally acquiesced.

"Great!" Rose said, beaming. "Do you want some more soup?"

Of course he did, and she gave him another bowl, sending Ray upstairs to prep the guest room and find Reggie something he could sleep in. Ray just let it happen. He knew better than to get in Rose's way when she'd made up her mind, and just watched on in amusement as she ushered a confused young punk in a leather jackets up the stairs and off to bed.

When she came back down, Ray had finished putting most of the soup into tupperware (and maybe stealing a few bites for himself. It was really good soup).

"Julie never told me she and Luke broke up," he said. "Had she told you?"

"No," Rose said, thoughtfully, even as she wrapped herself around him, on her toes so she could hook her chin over his shoulder. "Maybe they haven't."

Ray turned as far as he could, catching a glimpse of her face.

"Reggie said he gave his flu to Luke," Rose pointed out. "And on the phone he said he was Julie's boyfriend. I think they're both dating him."

Oh, so his name was Reggie? That was good to know. Ray tried to wrap his head around it. He was just glad his daughter hadn't gotten her heart broken.

"He seems like a good kid," he said finally. "Driving all this way just to get Julie's comfort food."

Rose hummed in agreement. "Well," she said. "We'll have plenty of time to get to know him tomorrow."

"Tomorrow?" He would have thought Reggie would be anxious to get back home to his... partners, he guessed.

"Well, of course we're driving him back!" Rose said. "He's in no shape to drive!"

And Ray just nodded, and smiled, because when Rose made up her mind, it was best to just go along with it.

[returnsandreturns]

i feel like i've been kind of spoiled by how nice people are to me online but i can now add my voice to the fact that leaving casual criticism in the bookmarks on ao3 is kinda a huge bummer

also maybe the person i encountered is unique but do people bookmark fics they clearly don't like? what is happening there. why is happening there.

[butts-bouncing-on-the-beltway]

Do you ever read a post where someone is explaining a pokitical thing and from the way they're saying you know with absolute certainty 1) they got their info from a tumblr post and have never actually followed up on how feasible that information actually is to act upon (they may not even have checked if it was CORRECT, but when they do they have clearly not looked into how easy or hard it may be to follow those instructions with a positive outcome), and 2) you know WHICH tumblr post they're quoting because it is basically a copy/paste of it, and 3) it was YOUR goddamn post and the thing they are saying is entirely counter to the point you were making when you said it to the point that you genuinely wonder if they just like. Memory-holed the entire context once they saw that one itty bitty point.

It's like the motherfuckiny dating apps all over again. I do not want people to love my words if they are not actually willing to do the work of understanding them! Didn't your kindergarten ever make you play Telephone to teach you how heresay falls out????

[suddencolds]

.

[daxite]

i think some of you guys are looking way too fucking deep into the shitty minecraft movie lol