#this is a joke I'll probably post it again... maybe.... possibly...

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Honestly, I was one of the people that was joking around and saying that we 100% needed a shirtless Leona, knowing we would obviously never get it, but also not knowing what they could possibly do to give us a pj set that would satisfy the fans but also match Leona.

But they did pretty well, considering their manga had him with his tits out 🤣

I read your posts on his card and saw the different edits you liked, and I honestly agree that this one is probably the best I’ve seen too. I think the only thing that could make it better that I don’t think I’ve seen yet?

I’ve seen people do minor edits to lengthen the window and show a bit of his waist, as this edit did, or go to the extreme and just take off his shirt. But I haven’t seen anyone meet in the middle and edit the window and waist and take only the sleeves off. Or maybe just bring them up to t-shirt length.

Because I just do not see him wearing longer sleeves in hot Savana weather. Especially since longer, yet looser, sleeves often get twisted around your arms when you toss and turn in the night and then constrict around them. Which means you have to take the time to unroll them from around your arm. Leona would hate that.

So yeah… thoughts on that kind of Leona pj edit? 🤔

[ Referencing this post and this post! ]

Mmm, yeah 💦 It feels like Twst was stuck between a rock and a hard place. There was so much time between the first of the new birthday card set (Jamil in September) all the way to Leona's birthday in late July for people to speculate, and it didn't help that the manga depicted Leona shirtless and set the fan's expectations SUPER high. But I guess Twst couldn't do that for the game and so had to come up with a sleepwear design that would both suit Leona and satisfy the fans without giving away too much in the way of fanservice. What a herculean task...

Tinyfantasminha's edit is still my favorite one I've seen so far! I don't need a ton of a character's skin showing to be satisfied, I can still enjoy how the fabric is draped and folds across the body (and plus, it heightens the reaction I get whenever there does happen to be skin showing). I also feel like it's possible to convey Leona's character and style through a full set of clothes rather than just removing clothes altogether. What I really like about tinyfantasminha's edit is that it feels so realistic; there's skin showing without going overboard. The edit feels like a REAL card you might see in Twst whereas the shirtless edits and the ones showing excessive skin (while still really impressive for the artists and editors to make) feel too horny for Twst to canonize. dhisebkekee I found another edit that’s just Leona in a variant of Deuce’s sleepwear 😭 which is also super fitting for his lazy vibes.

I'm sure there has to be a short sleeve or no-sleeves edit of the Leona card somewhere out there (and if not, then someone will make and post one soon). Less of a fuss, as you've pointed out. However, I also think that most people are going completely shirtless (again, the expectation set up by the manga) or focusing on editing the waist and the boob window (which are easier to edit) for... horny reasons 💀 and while people can also thirst over exposed arms, it just has less universal appeal.

I personally wouldn't mind a short sleeve or sleeveless edit, but I don't feel too strongly about it because I also enjoy a guy that just looks comfy in a full set of pjs 🤷‍♀️ It's not like there's a bare flesh threshold Leona has to meet to get my approval; I'll honestly take him no matter how he comes dressed (or, I guess, not dressed 💀).

[muniimyg]

𐙚₊˚⊹ boxer!jungkook⋆𐙚₊˚⊹

series m.list // taglist closed

boxer jk x neuro doctor oc

post fight vibes

meet cute

note: possibly a mini series but idk

after his home and the ring; jungkook's third home is the hospital.

yet, one thing he will never get used to are the bright lights. 

fuck. 

they’re always so fucking bright.

it doesn’t matter if he’s in for nearly busting his brain or if he’s just here for a casual IV drip—each time, the lights are insanely bright.

the hospital room is too white too. 

too sterile for someone like him.

his eyes flicker down to his knuckles. they’re split and bruised, resting against his stomach, rising and falling with each slow breath. his lip is cut, swollen at the corner, and when he rolls his shoulders back, he winces—just slightly—like he's trying not to show it.

suddenly, the doors burst open and his head turns towards it. 

you walk in. 

navy blue scrubs, white doctors coat, and your hair is tied high and back. 

it’s… love at first sight. 

your cheeks are so perfect. that’s the first thing he notices about you. they have this puff that makes him wonder if anyone has ever complimented you on them. next, are your lips. they’re perfectly shaped—so kissable. maybe he’s just that fucked in the head but everything about you looks so perfect. like your eyes are the exact size they need to be. you button nose where your glasses sit so cutely… 

god help him. 

maybe he got beat up a little too much this match. 

jungkook swallows drly as you approach him. you pull out the scans and show him on the monitor. you glance at them and then at him. for a moment, you’re silent and he doesn’t know if he should be saying anything. 

should he introduce himself? 

better yet, can you introduce yourself?

"you're concussed," you say simply.

jungkook blinks at you, like he was expecting more. 

"that bad?"

"you've had worse." you say it simply as you click on the monitor and pull out old scans from months ago. your eyes widen as you look through the ones from the past 3 years. pausing at one scan from 2019, you use your pen to gesture around the areas where he’s been concussed before. “this old one? probably your worst one.” 

he huffs out a laugh, shifting in his seat. 

"my brain is still here, though. couldn’t have been that bad, huh?"

you don’t humor the joke. 

"debatable."

his grin widens, even through the soreness. "harsh, doctor…”

“doctor ___.” 

“___,” he breathes. “that’s pretty.”

“doctor ___.” you correct.

“right,” jungkook folds. then, the moment shifts. he can’t help but blurt; “... you sure you're not just mad you had to sub in for my usual guy?"

"not mad," you say, flipping through his chart. "just not impressed."

he laughs again, low and raspy, like this whole thing is funny. like the fractures and bruising on his scans are nothing more than a bad grade on a test.

"aren't you too young to be a doctor?"

you glance at him, raising a brow. 

"aren't you too young to have this many head injuries?"

his smile lingers, but he doesn’t say anything for a beat like he's trying to come up with a clever response. like he's trying to read you.

"did you win?" you ask instead.

"huh?"

"your fight."

his grin flickers—surprise, maybe. or amusement. 

"yeah. of course."

you nod, flipping the chart closed. 

"is it worth it?"

he tilts his head, the movement slow. calculated. like he's trying to see if you're serious. truth be told, he can’t read you. not your tone or your facial expression. it intrigues him… how could someone be so warm and so cold at the same time? you’re lukewarm… but it’s refreshing. it’s scratches his fucked up brain somehow.

"i'll tell you," jungkook muses, "if you go out with me."

you scoff. 

"that's okay."

he waits.

"some things are worth asking about," you say, pushing your chair back. you stand up and lean over to check over his vitals. as you fix his IV, you squint as you notice his knuckles. for some reason, jungkook suddenly fights to urge to reach for you. his fingers twitch. you see it. you brush it off and say; "some things aren't worth the answer."

you don’t miss the way his lips part slightly, his brows lifting in surprise. 

you don’t stick around to see if he has a follow-up. you grab your clipboard and head towards the door. as you push the door open to leave, you bid him goodbye. 

"rest up, mr. jeon."

the next time jungkook is back, it's not you.

"dr. ___ isn’t in today?" jungkook asks, trying to sound… anything but how it came out.

namjoon doesn’t look up from his notes. 

“you met her?”

“yeah,” he breathes. “can’t get her out of my head ever since.”

namjoon chuckles as he takes out his slit lamp and examines jungkook’s eye movement. as jungkook’s eyes follow the light, nam joon continues;

"why’s that?”

“dunno,” jungkook confesses. 

namjoon can’t take jungkook seriously. he’s never been the type to care about girls since they’ve always come to him one way or another… but knowing you, he should’ve known jungkook would take interest. 

“miss her or something?" nam joon teases. “love at first concussion?”

“not my first concussion… and i was just wondering. shit, man.” jungkook shrugs, trying to move past it. suddenly, he’s embarrassed. 

namjoon hums, like he doesn’t believe him (because he doesn’t).

"she doesn't date patients," namjoon says, flipping a page and writing down notes from jungkook’s checkup. "definitely not ones with a brain like yours."

jungkook blinks. "is it that bad?"

namjoon grins. "she spends her days saving patients who get injured unwillingly. you? boxing? that's a choice. you're her least favorite kind of patient."

"but am i her type?"

namjoon laughs and shakes his head. 

"your brain is fucked up."

when jungkook’s checkup finishes, he says goodbye to namjoon and exits the room. 

then, like fate, he sees you in the hall when he's leaving. you're walking in the opposite direction, clipboard tucked against your hip, eyes scanning over charts.

jungkook doesn’t think. 

he moves.

jungkook catches up to you and taps your shoulder. as you turn your head to respond, he steps forward and in front of you instead. suddenly, you face him.

"you."

you blink up at him, unimpressed. "me."

"i'm not concussed anymore."

"i'm glad,” you smile at him softly before you lower your gaze back to your charts. “have a good day mr. jeon—"

"i won that match," he says, like it's important. like it means something.

you pause.

"i'm a good boxer," he continues, standing taller. "i don’t get injured that much. when you saw me last… i let the guy get in a few hits. whatever… it was for show, i swear to god… but if you go out with me, i promise to always win and never get a head injury ever again."

you stare at him.

he waits.

you exhale, shifting your clipboard to the other hand. then, before he can say anything else, your fingers push into his hair, ruffling it gently.

his breath hitches.

you drop your hand and step past him.

"i think you're still a little concussed," you murmur. 

“i’m not,” jungkook says, voice soft. “one chance.”

you tilt your head at him and for a moment, you really contemplate. his lip looks almost healed. his knuckles are only bruised now… for a moment, you want to give in. 

“do you ever lose?”

he scoffs. “no.”

you nod and begin to slip away. jungkook stands there confused at the growing distance. as you walk away, you tell him; 

“maybe you should learn how to.”

“why? so you can feel better about rejecting me?"

jungkook tilts his head, lips twitching. he lifts his foot to move to you but you shake your head at him. he stops his tracks. cutely, you mimic him and tilt your head too, feigning sympathy. 

"no, so you stop getting concussed."

he grins, sharp and easy. "i told you, i don't get injured that much."

"right… just enough to keep me employed."

his laughter comes quick, like he wasn't expecting that. 

"damn," he mutters, shaking his head. "you got a sharp tongue, doc."

you exhale through your nose, the closest thing to a laugh you’ve given him, and start toward the door. with one hand, you wave him off, like he’s not worth the breath it takes to keep talking.

but just before you step out, jungkook hears you murmur over your shoulder—low, teasing, like you’re indulging him for just a second longer.

"good thing you’re used to taking hits, jeon."

jungkook’s smile lingers long after you’ve disappeared down the hall. for a moment, he contemplates on running after you and continuing to annoy you… and then, for the nth time today… he thinks. 

he’ll be back. 

injured or not—he’s coming back just for you.

[27spoons]

Smother | Natalie Scatorccio

pairing: natalie scatorccio/gn!reader

summary: Natalie thought she had said goodbye to an old friend. (post-rebuild, pre s3e1)

wc: 2400

warnings: angst, kinda horror, mentions of suicide, mentions of cannibalism, natalie scatorccio cannot catch a break, relationship between nat/reader isn't defined, once again technically sfw but I wouldn't let my child read this or whatever

previous

a/n: you don't need to read prev to read this one but it helps put things into context.

"I'm gonna go for a walk to the lake. Check the traps, or something," Nat sighs, rubbing the sweat from her brow. "I just… yeah. I'll be back before sunset."

"Oh, do you want me to come with you?" Misty chimes in, gripping the clipboard between her hands tightly. "I can help you bring whatever's there back! It could be a big haul, and just in case—"

Nat cuts Misty's rambling off with a dismissive wave of her hand. "No, uh, I'll be fine, Misty. If there's a lot of fish, I'll only bring what I can carry back. Maybe…" She vaguely gestures towards Akilah. "You could see if she needs some help with the animals. She's got a bunch of newborn rabbits."

Misty protests, but Nat's already turning away and walking down the makeshift path to the lake, combat boots scuffing along the forest floor. Jackie's necklace hangs around her neck, a heavy weight on her conscience that marks the deaths and failures she blames herself for.

She finds herself going on these walks more often lately. Finding time for herself between orchestrating the rebuilding of everything they've lost since the cabin fire and teaching Gen how to hunt has proven to be difficult, but as Spring has started to roll around and people have started coming into their new roles, she's had more time to herself. 

Most of her outings are still technically work—because God forbid Natalie Scatorccio let herself relax for more than twenty seconds—but at least they get her away from the swarm. Apparently, people are far more annoying with full stomachs than when their bodies are eating themselves from the inside out. Shocker, truly.

Distant birdsong and the rustling of leaves in the wind provide a soundtrack for her walk, and she shoves her hands into the pockets of her leather jacket when a stray breeze moves past her. In another life, maybe she would have smoked a cigarette and walked down this path with you, swapping anecdotes and teasing the other ruthlessly.

Unfortunately for both you and Nat, this is the timeline that ended in a plane crash and the slitting of wrists in the dead of winter. So no jokes are swapped or ribbing is endured, as much as Nat would like there to be.

"Don't even gotta fucking cigarette to smoke," Nat curses herself, kicking a loose pebble across the soil. "Could fucking use one."

An unexpected scoff from somewhere behind nearly makes her trip over her own feet, whipping around and drawing the knife from her belt before she can register the noise fully.

Except… there's no one there when she turns around. 

"What the fuck?" Nat whispers, lowering the knife just as a twig snaps to her left and causes her to raise it again. "Okay, seriously. This isn't fucking funny, Misty. Just… whatever. You can come with me to the lake, or something."

"Misty? Seriously?" a suspiciously non-Misty-like voice says incredulously. "You and I both know she wouldn't be able to keep her mouth shut long enough to stalk you through the woods. Probably would have tripped over some branch while trying to stay quiet."

Nat turns around slowly, the knife in her hand shaking, but no longer from adrenaline. "No," she whispers, meeting the eyes of the person she had consumed and buried. "That's not fucking possible. I haven't had any fucking shrooms, and Lottie's woo-woo bullshit hasn't rubbed off on me. You aren't fucking here!"

"You're talking to me like I am, though." 

Nat walks right past where your ghostly form stands, holstering the knife and continuing her trek to the lake. Petulantly, even if she doesn't believe you're real, she stays quiet.

"Seriously?" You magically reappear in front of her, putting your hands up placatingly. "You're gonna run off like I can't just keep—okay." She walks through you, which makes her falter for a second—like she was expecting to crash into your still in one piece body—then takes off just as fast. 

You start walking alongside her, although she's pointedly looking away. "You can't ignore me forever, you know. You're literally carrying a part of me—or were. I don't know how many times you've taken a shit since you ate my corpse."

She stops walking and whirls around to face you at that. "Fuck you. Do you think I wanted to do that shit? It was either that or fucking starve. But you were skin and bones by the time Shauna cut you into tiny-fucking-pieces, so it's not like the meal lasted us very long."

"Yeah, I'm sure the thirteen-year-old boy lasted you longer, then? Did you and Travis swap stories about what it was like to eat the heart of someone you once cared about?"

Nat's mouth opens and closes uselessly at your perceived words before she promptly resumes walking. 

"You're just being annoying now. Seriously, dude. Would you stand still for twenty seconds? You aren't doing yourself any favour by running off." Your voice no longer comes from a single point; instead, it bounces around her head and the entire space surrounding her. "Jesus Christ, Scatorccio. Running from me just like you ran from ninety percent of your problems while I was still flesh and bones. Glad to see some things haven't changed, even with a new leadership position."

A stray tear cuts down her cheek. She doesn't bother wiping it away. 

Her boots hit the dirt hard, louder than they should. Louder than anything.

Your voice doesn't let up. Doesn't falter.

She picks up the pace. 

Faster.

Left at the old birch tree. Through the pile of dead leaves.

Doesn't help.

You're still there.

Still fucking talking.

By the time she hits the clearing near the lake, she's not sure whether the pounding in her head is from the running or the screaming. (Yours? Hers? Does it matter?)

She slows only once the edge of the water reaches the toes of her boots, reluctantly turning around with a broken expression. "Why the hell are you tormenting me? Wasn't your fucking death enough?"

"You really think you buried me?" Your form flickers as you step across the rocks, lips blue and frozen despite the lack of snow and above freezing temperatures. "That pile of bones in the plane—you think that was me?"

"You—you bled out in front of me. Your fucking blood froze in the snow." 

A step forward on your part. Nat steps back into the water. "You sure? Or is that just what you needed to see?"

"What I needed—?" She shakes her head immediately. "No. What I needed to see was you alive and breathing. What I fucking saw was you with slits in your wrists and blood-coloured snow!"

"Are you sure?" You step forward once more. She doesn't step further back. Your form flickers again, skin flashing between frost-blue and flesh-coloured. "Or is that just what you needed to see?"

Nat sees that night flash behind her eyes like she's reliving it all over again. 

Your body in the lifeless snow. Travis telling her that they need to get back to the cabin, that her knuckles have started splitting from the cold. Gen helping—forcing—Nat to her feet and guiding her back to the cabin, where a steaming tub of water waited to warm frozen limbs and trembling bones. Watching Shauna separate limb from limb of the corpse with a sheet over its face and genitals, like modesty even matters in death. Taking a bite of the same thing that had once sustained your life, then tossing it into the crackling flames that would one day consume the cabin whole. Taking your bones to the plane, leaving her necklace behind, then finally placing them in the ground a week prior to her current predicament.

"Did you even look at my face before Shauna slit that body's throat? Or did you just assume it was mine because it looked the same?" A beat, another step forward, your form finally settling on the colour it was before the plane fell from the sky. "Do you even remember what I looked like?" Your hand moves in front of your face, changing shapes and forms with each pass before returning to its original form. "Or is it just a memory of a distant memory?" 

She remembers your body in the snow.

At least… she thinks it was yours.

She never checked the wrists. Not closely. Didn't want to look too long. If she had, would she have seen the stick-and-poke you two gave each other when you were fourteen in your dad's backyard? Would she have seen the scar you got on your left wrist after that stray dog bit you?

Did anyone actually say your name?

What if she just filled in the blanks?

No—she remembers the splattering of blood after she threw your heart into the hearth. The burnt smell that had followed.

But… wasn't that Mari? She had accidentally cooked a piece of meat too long, charring one side in the pan. 

Blood. Slit wrists. Blue lips. The same phrases and faces, over and over.

Except… didn't she see that before? On someone else?

"No. I—I saw your face. I saw your face before Shauna covered it. Your eyes were closed. I remember—"

"Do you?" the apparition of you cuts her off, glancing at her like she's grown a second head. "Do you remember what colour my eyes were, Natalie?"

"Yes, obviously. Your eyes were… they were fucking…"

Does she remember the colour of your eyes? Were they the same colour as hers? Maybe similar to the colour of the lake? No—they were brown, right? Or darker than that? The colour of the polish she used to paint her nails with?

"God, what does it matter? You're fucking dead!" She throws her hands up, as if the entire conversation is frustrating her. "Your eyes could've been fucking… purple. It wouldn't change a damn thing."

She glances behind where you stand. The path looks… wrong. Like she's further from camp than she should be; she doesn't remember the moss being that colour. The sound of water no longer rings in her ears, and when she turns around, the lake is gone, and you're standing there, just as confused as you were earlier. 

"You said that you'd never forgive what happened to Jackie. And then… you helped them do it to me. Doesn't make much sense, does it, Natalie?"

Nat takes a timid step back, feeling like a scared child instead of the fearless woman she's grown to portray herself as. "You… you're not real," she murmurs meekly, hands clenching at her sides.

You shake your head once, resolute. "I never claimed to be. Did you think I was?"

In a flash, Nat snaps. Angry tears stream down her cheeks—though at you or herself is unclear—and she tries to shove you back. You flicker like a faulty memory, and she stumbles forward at the lack of resistance where you should be. Yet… there's still a thrumming from where she had tried to touch you.

It feels wrong. The forest is wrong. 

She feels like she's hyperventilating. 

Javi. The boy she watched die from a combination of shock and hypothermia.

Her fault. Should have rescued him from his fate. Too young to die.

You. The person who used to talk shit with her in the early hours of the morning.

Her fault. Should have noticed you acting strange in the days leading up to your death.

Jackie. The girl whose necklace she wears like a symbol of something more. 

Her fault. Should have been the voice of reason that brought her back inside.

She glances down at her hands—there's blood under her nails.

She doesn't remember scratching anything.

"What the fuck is going on?" Nat mumbles, moving backwards unconsciously. 

She glances back up. You're not there. The heartbeat of the forest pulses beneath her feet and in her ears. 

When did the sun start setting?

The walk back to camp feels hollow. Every sound sets off warning bells in her head, and she's never been more fidgety—not even when spiralling head-first into nicotine withdrawal the weeks following the plane crash. 

Her fingers twitch with every step, and she glances around nervously like her father did when he didn't have the money for a needle. 

She can't remember the last time she was truly paranoid of something the way she is of you.

No—not you. Whatever this… version of you is. The ghost or phantom or embodiment of the forest or scrap of wild imagination that's come to torment her like she's Ebenezer Scrooge and it's Christmas Eve.

She doesn't even realise she's made it back to camp until her shoulder clips Travis on the way in.

He doesn't berate her for the collision, but rather looks at her with a level of concern she hasn't seen since that night.

"Woah, you… okay? You've got blood on your face."

She touches her cheek. Her fingertips come back red. She doesn't remember crying or cutting herself.

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine. It's fine. Thanks, Travis," she mumbles, the words barely decipherable as unsteady feet lead her to the shelter she resides in. It's colder than she remembers. Not wilderness-cold—something else. Something that twig walls couldn't keep out.

She pulls a dented scrap of metal from where it rests on a suitcase, intending to wipe the dried blood from her face. It's not much of a mirror—warped, cloudy—but it does the job well enough to remind her what she's become.

Except it's not just her own reflection that stares back.

Behind her, just over her shoulder, stands you.

You're not smiling. Not speaking. Just watching.

A flash of blue. A flicker of movement.

She whirls around so fast her boots skid against the packed dirt.

Nothing.

Just a cot, some makeshift shelves, and the low flicker of lamplight.

Her heart kicks against her ribs. She grips the edge of a nearby shelf, blood-slick fingers leaving prints like bruises.

She doesn't check the reflective surface again. Doesn't need to.

She knows what she saw.

Or what she thinks she saw. Or what she's afraid might still be coming.

She sinks to the floor, heels of her palms pressed against her eyes.

Just for a second. Just to stop the shaking.

Sleep doesn't come until the following night. 

But when she does sleep? It's far from restful.

It watches her from behind her eyelids. 

a/n: it wasn't his fault but blame shotgunsermon for this one (he encouraged it) also hbd @misayani

[nikamuhlsrealwife777]

Based this request off the pictures of Nika flexing at the top of your profile, plus the pictures she’s posted working out and then that video of her doing leg exercises and her quads looking insane- Nika’s girlfriend just being a simp for Nika and how strong, hot and beautiful she is but also being funny and telling her that Paige has bigger muscles than her now (which honestly might be true lol)

2 HANDS - N.M.

I honestly think I write for nika the best....idk what that's about

Back at the shared dorm rooms of the UConn women's basketball team, I laid on the couch waiting for my girlfriend to come back. None of the team really cared that was constantly around. Honestly, they probably enjoyed the fact that when I was around, Nika wasn't getting on to them about something.

My phone was starting to become boring, but at the last second, a edit of Nika popped up. The edit flowing with whatever song was trending on tiktok at the moment. The clips showing Nika frustrated or just looking fine.

As the video played over and over again, the sound of keys jiggling into the keyhole made me jump up. The door opening in a second.

"I mea-Babe....you okay?" Nika stopped mid conversation to ask me, my nervous state more obvious than I'd like. Her strides quick and determined as she made her way to me. Her hands holding my arms as she looked me in the eyes.

"uh...yeah...yep," I could hear the faint sound of the music playing over and over again in the back. My nerved sky rocketing as Nika grabbed my phone.

"holy shit..." her eyes seemed to light up a little, "you were watching edits of me."

Paige snickered, "she couldn't help herself, thinking of you at the gym and everything, twin!"

Heat rose to my cheeks, "I...i wasn't watching edits. It just so happened to come on as you came home." Paige mention of the gym made my thoughts run back to what Nika looked like there. Sweating, muscles popping, a shiver ran down my spine.

"Sure, bebo." She rolled her eyes, handing me my phone back. "Couldn't help but think of these bad boys, huh?" As she flexed her arms, I couldn't help but bite my lip.

"put those awayyyy... don't wanna scare me off, do ya?" Her airy chuckle made my nerves settled a little, "but..."

An eyebrow raised as Nika looked at me, "but what?"

"I do think Paige is starting to get bigger....but who knows," a smirk rested on my lips, watching my girlfriend's face drop. She called the blonde back into the room.

"Paige! Get your ass in here!" A second passed before the blonde walked in, shorts and a sports bra the only thing covering her body. "Tell my girlfriend that I've got bigger muscles than you."

"what?!? No!" She waved her hand, shooing the girl off, "she's obviously knows what she's talking about."

Dumbfounded, Nika gave me a look, "babe...do you really think her muscles are bigger than mine?"

I shake my head, watching the girl's smile return. With one swift motion, she picked me up, walking us to her room. "Nika!"

"hmm?"

"put me down!"

"once I get you to my room, than I'll put you down," the smirk was huge, and undeniably doing something to me.

I rolled my eyes, waiting for the girl to put me down on her bed. She placed me down, standing back up to throw her shirt off her body. You would think this would go somewhere else, but it didn't go there. She started flexing, wiggling her brows down at me.

"Paige wouldn't have been able to carry you...she got fake muscles. I got the real ones, " I snicker.

"baby, I was just joking," she sighed, I stood up and wrapped my arms around her torso, "you're the strongest, sexiest woman I've ever seen. Is that better?"

She laughed, "Maybe not ask if that's better....but it definitely sounds good you calling me sexy."

We stood there for a minute, in each other's arms. I couldn't deny the fact that I was into the girl, possibly in love, but I didn't wanna be the first to say it. I didn't wanna sound dumb...but to my surprise, I wouldn't have to wait much longer.

"I love you...ya know?" Nika sounded uncertain, careful with her words. A smiled stretched across my face.

"I love you too...ya know," I leaned up to kiss her lips, "you and those gigantic muscles you have."

"you're so unserious," shaking her head, a small laugh came out.

"yeah yeah.... that's nothing knew."

[ellierium]

꩜.𖥔 ˖ ɴᴏᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ᴏɴᴇ (ɢɪᴠɪɴ' ᴜᴘ). [ᴇ.ᴡ. & ᴀ.ᴀ.]

ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ᴏɴᴇ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜʀᴇᴇ.

A ROUTINE patrol goes wrong for our friendly neighborhood spider-woman! who can she rely on in this time of need? our favorite human-host and alien-symbiote duo, of course!

pairing: modern!venom!abby anderson x modern!spider-woman!ellie williams tags: frenemies (?) to lovers, comedy, ellie williams is a bad spiderman, abby anderson is a worse venom, physical hurt/comfort, symbiote healing, blood, slight gore. mdni. a/n: um. is this too niche? i used to write for spider-verse... and i am just a girl i fear. I'll probably post this on ao3 as well. have fun! ⸺ℰ word count: 1.4k

Ellie’s desperate, she knows that. 

Really, she does.

She's not entirely sure what comes over her. Not sure what possesses her to swing her way to Abby Anderson’s apartment in goddamn Hell’s Kitchen, not sure what has her colliding with the wall unceremoniously because of course she stumbles. Maybe it’s the piece of scrap metal stuck in her side. Honestly, she's not even sure if Abby is home.

So, she knocks. 

This really isn’t her best idea. She has a lot of those, but this is definitely one of the worst ones. She thinks she knows what she wants – she wants Abby to force her to go to the hospital and see a doctor. 

But she knows what she really wants is for Abby to fix her up herself. She wants Abby to joke around with her, try to make her laugh to distract her from the blood she's losing. That’s all a maybe, though– it’s if she lets herself really yearn. 

She stands there in her shredded suit and a stretched-out t-shirt she snatched from a street vendor, waiting for Abby to answer the door. She thinks she looks weird. She knows she looks insane.

She doesn’t have to wait too long– never really does if Abby can help it– but she's not expecting what greets her. She thought Abby would answer the door with that usual Abby Anderson charm – or lack thereof – that lazy smirk on her face because she’s so smug and thinks she’s right all the time. The stormy blue eyes and a sarcastic greeting on her tongue that Ellie wants to kiss her for. She thought she’d be – content, to say the least.

Instead, Abby is standing unnervingly still. Her eyes are dark and her eyebrows are furrowed, her lips are turned down in a frown, and Ellie realizes she has a peep-hole way too late. She's still relieved to see her, just a little bit, anyway. Her lips just barely turn up. “Abby,” she breathes, “I didn’t– Know where to go–”

She's lying. She knew where to go. But she also knew she wouldn’t be able to go out again if Maria and Tommy ever found out that she got beat this bad. Maria would make her life infinitely more difficult than it already is and Tommy would make sure she could never wear the suit again, and she would die, probably, if she spent that much time away from it all.

And fuck, actually, if she wasn’t a little afraid that she could be dying – Abby isn’t a surgeon, can’t possibly take this thing out of her side, but she doesn’t want to go to a hospital, can’t possibly go home on her own. She can’t do anything but feel all this pain, but Abby’s hands are soft where they hold her arms. Abby’s hands are soft and clean and have no blood on them – not yet, anyway, not until Ellie walks into her home. Then the whole place is coated in the stuff – drippy and dark and disgusting– and Ellie just keeps painting the walls with it. 

She blinks as she's guided to Abby’s dining table– God, if I don’t die, I gotta remember to hit up IKEA– 

“Ellie, what the fuck?” She hears Abby’s frantic voice, low and not at all happy– it makes Ellie nauseous, or maybe it's the blood loss, she's not entirely sure, but blood dribbles out of her mouth anyway.

She groans, letting out half-sobs as Abby gently lays her down. Tears well in her eyes– not because of the pain, no– the care. Abby handles her like she's made of glass, and she's not so sure that she isn’t. She honestly doesn’t know what she's made out of– maybe bits and pieces of everyone she's ever known– maybe nothing in particular.

“What the hell happened?” She's asking, and God, Ellie doesn’t fuckin’ know. Doesn’t know a damn thing except that she webbed up that asshole mugger to the side of the closest NYPD precinct, that the scrap metal in her side knocked the wind out of her, that she had to fumble with her webs and blink the spots out of her eyes to make sure she was swinging in the right direction. She barely thought of where to go, just knew that her dear frenemy Abigail Anderson lived on the corner of 10th Ave and W 49th.

The spots are back, her breath is getting shallow, and she’s a little scared. Her hands clench Abby’s wrists.

“Abs–” 

“I’m here,” Abby says, soft and sure above her. Ellie watches her, but Abby’s focused on the wound in her side, on the way the skin keeps trying to heal but then it's ripped open again, a never ending loop of heal, break, heal, break.

“V, help her.” 

Help her, not help me, because she doesn’t need it. Abby’s Symbiote to the rescue, and Ellie’s shivering as he coats her skin. Abby’s there, too, underneath it all – embedded into Venom the way he’s embedded into her. They can’t be apart, and the thought of Abby sticking to her skin makes her warm. She shudders.

“Didn’t puncture anything major,” Abby says, and her eyes glaze over white. Venom blinks down at her once, then again, before Abby’s blue-grey eyes come back to comfort her.

Venom doesn’t say much, makes no sound except for the occasional hum. The goo is sticky, cold and then warm, and she feels their heartbeat against her sternum. It’s soothing, but the pain is getting to her. She can feel Venom seep under her skin, can feel him-her-them rummaging and moving around her organs to isolate the area. The worst part is when Abby pulls the fucking metal out of her side. She cries out, breath wobbly from the blinding pain that tears through skin and muscle. Might as well go straight to the bone, too.

She can barely breathe, can’t really think, but Abby looks like she's crying. Ellie just can’t have that.

“Knew you never– fuck–” She coughs, spits blood right into her own shoulder, doesn't want to stain anything else red, “–never liked me.” 

It makes Abby laugh, just barely, but it sounds more like she's trying not to choke on her breaths. Her hand rests on Ellie’s chest, where her heart beats, a little too quickly, but it’s fine. At least it’s beating. They sit and breathe and cry— Abby’s hands are still soft on her chest, Ellie’s head is still pounding. When she looks down, both of their hands are covered in blood. It makes her warm for some reason. 

“You gonna tell me what happened?” Abby asks after a few minutes, maybe an hour, maybe more. Ellie sighs, coughs again. The wound is tender, but there's no blood in her mouth. It’s the little things.

“Just wanted to finish,” she mutters, squeezing her eyes shut, “Didn't think about getting hurt.” 

“Stupid of you,” Abby says quietly, “Almost Venom-stupid.”

“Almost,” she agrees, grins despite herself, would laugh if she could. It hurts too much, though, just like Abby’s eyes on her right now. 

“HEY!” Venom barks, tendrils building until his head forms right by Abby’s right arm. He interrupts the moment, and for some reason, she’s a little thankful for it. “I SAVED YOUR LIFE. DID NOT EAT YOU. I COULD. I SHOULD. WE WANT TO.”

Abby shushes him, shoving at his head half-heartedly. Venom responds by digging his teeth into her arm, which does nothing. He chews angrily.

“You’re not eating her. You just had chocolate.”

“CHOCOLATE IS GOOD. I WANT MORE! HER SPLEEN IS RIGHT THERE, I COULD–”

Abby shoves him again as Ellie watches on. Nothing more to do now that she’s healed up, but the wound in her side is held together by her own skin and pieces of Venom. Pieces of Abby and Venom, because it's always two, and never just the one. Not anymore.

Ellie doesn’t say much when Abby preps the pull-out couch, but she does thank Venom when he slithers up out of nowhere to give her a pillow. It’s the softest thing she’s ever held (probably) and she takes note of the way Abby hides a blush that reaches the tips of her ears.

She doesn’t comment, and instead says goodnight when Abby turns the light off in the living room.

[eelnoise]

supplicate (nsfw!)

18+ MDNI!

Trafalgar Law x afab!reader cw: mild brat taming, teasing, edging, snarky law, piv sex, creampie an: this one kinda went overboard and was not meant to be this long. it was supposed to be two drabbles for both zoro and law but i kinda got carried away. i'll post them separately or whatever idk. tagging: @bby-deerling @themushroomofdeath @risenwrites @kaizokuniichan @strawheart-pirate

At this rate you were going to kill him.

He sighs and runs a hand through his hair as his jeans tighten again. You’d been at it all day – touching and teasing him every chance you get. Running your fingers down his arm when you bring him coffee and lingering far longer than you usually do before departing with a small smirk across your lips, not-so-subtly unzipping your boiler suit just enough for him to get a glance of the soft flesh that lies beneath when you cross paths throughout the day’s work, and he doesn’t miss the sultry, half lidded gaze that seems to follow wherever he goes.

Must be some kind of cruel joke, he thinks. Something you and Ikkaku had conspired together to conjure just to drive him up the wall. Law wasn’t keen on any of the crew knowing of your shared… situation, though considering the fondness you have of your crewmate, he should’ve known it was inevitable. And usually, he pays it no mind – so long as he isn’t bothered by any unwelcome, irritating comments or jabs.

But today it eats at him, riles him until your very image is superimposed onto the backs of his eyelids. As much as it pains Law to admit – your stubborn attempt at teasing him had worked, and probably much more than you even knew. Of course, he could simply take care of the ever growing, insistent need for you right now – right here in his office, and without you. He considers it for a moment as he leans back in his chair. There's poetic irony in the thought, and he chuckles selfishly to himself imagining the look on your face when he doesn’t give what you think you’ve won.

Though why deny himself the sweetened privilege of correcting your impish behavior? You’ve earned it at this point, a victory certainly – though perhaps not quite the prize you seek. Law’s mind reels with possibility, bringing him to a point of distraction that leaves him unable to focus on his own tasks. He wants to teach you a lesson, wants to hear you beg, whine, writhe beneath him, pleading for release that he plans on withholding until your absolute limit. 

The way his cock throbs painfully against his thigh gives him an answer that he can’t ignore, and without a second – more rational – thought, utters a near-silent “Room. Shambles.” 

Suddenly it doesn’t matter where you were or what you were doing. And Law isn’t surprised when you appear before him looking smug and as expectant as ever. 

“Took you long enough,” You begin, the coy edge to your voice cutting through the silence that had been his prison for the past few hours. “Thought maybe-”

Law slides backwards away from his desk and cuts you off with a snap of his fingers – a sure signal for you to keep your mouth shut. “Strip, and make it quick.” The way you shiver from his words alone does not go unnoticed, lips twitching upward at just how easy it is to make you come apart from him.

Spurned onward by both his demeanor and his obvious predisposition, you hastily peel your layers off and leave them in a heap around your feet and step toward him. Law leans back and places his elbows on either arm of his chair. Seems like you’re going to have to work for it.

He only assists you with a slight raise of his hips when you move to free his cock from its confines and allows you to pull his jeans and underwear down as you see fit to do. Instinctively you lean down with means to wrap your lips around him, but Law grabs you by the forearm and clicks his teeth – twisting you around to settle into his lap. 

Law reaches down to the backs of your thighs, pulling you into a position that aligns himself near perfectly with you, and pressing your back to the edge of the wooden desk. You gasp when he glides his length along your slick folds, an excited half-mewl that lets him know that you’re exactly where he wants you to be. He delights in the sight of you trying in vain to roll your hips for any sort of friction, but his hold on you is too heavy and the attempts get you nowhere. “Law – come on!” 

At your frustrated plea, Law tilts his head forward to peer at you with a knowing smirk on his lips. “I don’t think you’re in any position to be talking,” He purrs smoothly, breathing hot upon your neck. “Let alone making demands.” 

He ruts his hips slowly – painfully – against you. Whines befall your lips as he lazily slides his cock up and down your pussy, making sure to press just a little harder against your clit. Law knows what makes you tick, having analyzed and researched each reaction to his ministries over the years at sea. He knows just how to make you cry out in limited bliss, how to inch you right to the precipice of paradise – only to whisk it away at the blink of an eye.

Why should you get away so easily?

Still tight within his grip, you’re at his will. Each stroke of him against your walls, feeling every throb of his cock within you leaves you a whiny, needy mess. The frustration turned ecstasy in your gaze cracks his guise further, though not enough to unmask him – yet.

He’d never admit it at a time like this, but the way you sound, the way you feel, the way your expressions twist and curve at his teasing – he needs you like a man needs food. And deciding that you’ve had your fill of his game is a good enough excuse to up the ante.

Law guides himself to your entrance, and using the abundance of slick that glistens along his flesh, eases you onto him. You hiss out a moan as he bottoms out, and a moment later he’s bouncing you up and down his cock, pace still unhurried and languid. 

It's agony, sweet and unsated passion that you’re not being given despite your best attempts goading both now and throughout the day. Your laments fall on deaf ears as Law continues his tortuous campaign, pulling you down onto him until your hips are flush together, letting the head of his cock twitch against the spongy spot that makes your eyes roll back in your head. You’re desperate, the need for him begins to outweigh your tolerance of his little game – so you do the one thing that you know will make him crumble.

You reach out for him, pressing a hand to his cheek to lead him into a tender kiss. Law’s eyes widen in surprise, but cannot help to fall into your trick. He closes them and leans into you, deepening the lip lock and groaning in satisfaction. You slip your tongue between his lips and the grip on you loosens enough to allow you to more freely grind on him. 

It takes Law a moment to come to his senses, too lost in kiss and affection to notice that you’d taken control. He breaks the gesture with a growl and a feral grin to match, and that's all the warning you get before he stands up from the chair and folds you backward onto the surface of the desk. Papers crease and books shift as he presses your thighs up to your chest, his cock drilling into your core as fast and as hard as he can give you.

“So fucking needy,” Law taunts, hovering his head just out of your reach. “Look at you. You’re desperate. Drooling for the thing only I can give you, isn’t that right?” He follows up the words with a smack to your thigh and a low chuckle. 

So much do you want to speak, though words fail you again and again. You’ve been reduced to nods and wails of pleasure, and Law is living for it.

He brings you to the edge so many times, and only a handful does he allow you to leap. Law’s stamina doesn’t give, and just when you think he’s close he stalls to a near stop – leaving you breathless and panting and giving you some respite before slamming his hips back into yours until the sound of skin against skin echo throughout his cabin once more. “Law, I can’t–” You wearily exclaim, tears pecking at your eyes beyond the hazy, fucked-out gaze you’re giving him. “It’s too much, I can’t…”

“Of course you can,” Law directs from above you. He clasps your jaw with one of his hands, lithe fingers grasping and forcing your face toward his. “You’ll take everything I have to give you since you’re being so good for me now, won’t you?”

The familiar tug from low in your belly pulls once more at his words, and in an instant you’re cumming again around his cock again. His name falls from your tongue like it's the only word in your vocabulary, and it sends his mind reeling. Law’s words eventually deceive him, and soon enough he’s digging his nails into your thigh and sighing into your neck as he fills you to the brim with his own cum.

The moment stalls, and for a moment Law looks at you, the hand nearest to your face coming to rest gently upon your cheek. You offer him a smile, and it makes his heart skip a beat. It always does. Law leans down to press a soft kiss to your forehead, and trailing an even softer one to your lips. It isn’t something he says often, what he’s saying to you now. The simple phrase is a whisper on his tongue, and made only for your ears – it's one you return just as quietly, though almost too eagerly.

After all, you do love him.

[bardoftheshire]

Impractical Jokers has taken over all of my interest, especially Q, so here you guys go, some Brian Quinn stuff.

Not In On the Joke

Brian "Q" Quinn x Fem! Reader

Summary; The Jokers have to do certain tasks to win in the park, and a certain task given by the rest of the Jokers leads Q to talk to you. (I've gotten really bad about writing summaries, sorry).

Notes; This was an idea I had in my head for a while so I decided to just get to writing it. This one's also just a little short, too short for my liking but I wanted to post something. (Here's a sequal y'all BEGGED for. I am NOT doing a third part.)

Extra Note; The words in italics are the rest of the Jokers talking into the earpiece.

Warnings; Some cursing, but that's about it.

✎﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

"Alright, Q, it's your turn now, go on out there," Sal says.

The rest of the Jokers watch Q as he walks to the middle of the park and stands in a random spot.

"Alright, give me somethin', anything and I'll do it, I'm not gonna lose to Murr," Q says, rubbing his hands together and swaying slightly.

The Jokers stay quiet for a few moments trying to spot someone they can get Q to go up to. "Okay, you see the person wearing the blue cardigan, go walk up to her." Joe speaks into Q's earpiece.

Q does as asked and Murr speaks into the earpiece.

"Okay, what now?"

"Kinda creep up on her from behind and tap her shoulder and say, 'I was watching you from over there, I gotta say, you look really interesting.'" Murr giggles.

Q sighs, running his hand through his hair and walks up from behind to the girl. He gets close and taps her shoulder. She turns around slowly, staring up at him confused.

"Excuse me, but I was watching you from over there and I gotta say, you look really interesting," Q says, turning around and pointing at a random spot in the park and looking back at the girl, standing awkwardly in front of her.

The woman stays looking at him, not saying a word with her mouth slightly agape for a few seconds. "Oh, uh. Interesting? What do you mean by interesting?" She says, furrowing her eyebrows in confusion.

"Well uh, you know.. Interesting." Q replies, shrugging his shoulders.

"Make her as uncomfortable as possible. Just stay quiet and just stare at her." Joe says. Q could hear giggling from Murr and Sal through his earpiece.

Q turns his head away and lets out a breathy laugh, shortly turning back to the woman and staring her in the eyes with as blank of a face as he could with wide eyes.

The woman stares at him for a while before finally looking at anywhere else but at him and letting out an uncomfortable laugh. She scratches the back of her neck and stares down at her feet.

Q felt terrible, he doesn't like looking at people directly either, and it definitely seemed like she did either. There was just an awkward silence for an uncomfortable amount of time, that would be quickly fixed by the rest of the Jokers, as they began speaking into Q's earpiece again.

"Okay, okay, I want you to ask for her number." Sal says. Q could practically hear the smile just by the way he said it.

Q turns away from the woman again. "Is this one of those things where you get one of your friends to be in on the joke? Because if it isn't then I might just get punched in the face in a minute." Q says quietly into the mic hidden on him.

"Nope, she's not in on the joke, unfortunately for you, man. But you can always take the loss." Sal replies.

"You guys are dicks." Q says quietly before turning back to face the woman.

She had an odd look on her face, not even so much uncomfortable anymore but just confused. "Uh, were you saying something?"

"No, no, I wasn't saying anything, sorry."

"Dude she probably thinks you're insane right now!" Murr says, laughing as he does so.

"He uh, do you think... Oh my god... Do you think, that I can maybe get your number, sweetheart?" Q asks, awkwardly laughing in between.

The woman's expression quickly turned into one of shock. Her face and ears began to flush red, something that she thanked could easily be passed off as a result of the cold weather.

"Um, sure. Let me put it into your phone, or I could also write it down for you, too?" The woman says after snapping out of her trance like state. She tried to say it as confidently as she could, trying to hide every ounce of anxiety and fear she had. She wasn't even sure if she was thinking when she said that, she thought to herself.

She thought that he was an attractive guy, probably one of the most attractive guys to come up to her in a long while. He has a nice appearance, with bushy brows, brown down-turned eyes, a clean shaven face, and to top it off a great smile when he was wearing one.

She thought that the way he dressed himself was nice, one of those things where it looked comfortable and simple yet still classy. His softer body type fit well with the length of his hair, she liked how good it looked with the hat he was wearing, and the slight graying of his hair made him all the more attractive.

Yes, the part where he stared at her for an uncomfortable amount of time was odd, same thing with when he seemed like he was just talking to himself for a while, but she had already completely forgotten about that right at the moment he called her 'sweetheart'.

"I, uh... Are you sure?" Q asked, it was now his turn to be just as shocked as she was before.

The rest of the Jokers were just as shocked and confused as he was, they weren't laughing or even smiling, they just stood looking at Q and the woman from their setup with confused looks plastered on their faces.

"Yeah, I'm sure. Unless you don't want it?" The woman said, unsure of herself.

"Oh, uh. Yeah alright, here you can put it into my phone." Q handed her his phone and watched as she put her contact into it, then typing her name in.

"My name's Y/n, by the way. Figure you'd need to know that so you don't accidentally delete my contact." Y/n says, putting her hand out to Q.

Q takes her hand and shakes it firmly. "Nice to meet you, Y/n. I'm Brian, but my friends call me Q." He says, flashing a charming smile, more comfortable and confident then just moments ago.

"Well, uh, I need to be on my way, I was supposed to be somewhere like five minutes ago, but I'm glad I stayed. Hopefully I'll get to talk to you later, Brian. It was nice to meet you too."

"I'll definitely be talking to you later, sweetheart. Have a good rest of your day, thank you." Q says, sending a wink and waving goodbye before turning to walk away.

Q slightly jogs over to the setup where the rest of the Jokers were and takes his earpiece out while walking to stand next to them.

"What the hell just happened? What the hell did we just do?" Sal says, looking back and forth and Joe and Murr.

"I just got a girl's number is what happened, and I think that makes Murr the loser this time." Q says, patting Murr on the back and laughing with a smug smile on his face.

"Can we even put that on the episode?" Joe says, rubbing his face.

The cameramen and rest of the crew look at each other and shrug, seeming to not really know the answer for it either.

Q takes out his phone and opens it. "Let's see, let me text her number that she gave me that's currently in my contacts right now, on my phone." He says, clearly trying to rub it in the guys' faces.

Sal rolls his eyes. "You just gotta hope she likes cats now, Q."

✎﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

I'm going to be completely honest with all of yall, I had no clue on how to end this and it's the reason why it took me a month to finish, but we don't talk about that because it's done now. Hope you enjoyed.

[igglemouse]

The Name Game...

Now, before the regularly scheduled legacy posts hit the dashboard today I feel I must address something, normally I would ignore it. I've been here a decade, when have I been in any drama? Normally I would have just messaged this person, because again, I really don't care to do drama or anything like that, but I discovered it because of a reply I had read on one of my posts by a shared mutual. I thought it was funny and since they tagged the person, I wanted to go to their blog and see it for myself but I could not.

Odd, I can hover over the @ but couldn't go to the blog, it says it doesn't exist. I'm blocked I figure. Maybe it should have ended there and it would have been a shame if it had because I would not have seen the post claiming that I did things I did not do. I'll put the rest under a read more as I do love to type.

But this post just comes as a defense since in that post we have a lot of shared mutuals (its a small world!) and I do not want them to think that I stole a name or character from you and then that I deleted your post. Explanation below.

I did not steal the name.

Anyways, the nature of the drama is about a character's name. I have a character named Aurel Vasilescu and they have a character named Aurelia Vasilescu, which are obviously very similar names. It's completely fair that someone would see those two names and think someone copied someone else and since Aurel's actual name was introduced like a week or so ago it would naturally look like I did the theft.

It's some coincidence to be sure and one I would have happily laughed with her over and happily reblogged her story and posted the spider-man pointing meme and had fun with it but I wasn't even really given a chance to respond directly to her but more on that later.

I'm not sure how we both settled on those names, as I joked in the reply, great minds think alike? But for me I was looking for a Romanian surname since well, he's based in Ravenwood which is based on Transylvania and so I gave him a romanian surname. That we both have similar first names is pretty uncanny but given that there's a such thing as actual dopplegangers its really not out of the realm of possibility that someone creates a same or similar character name, but since I know leaving it at that would be my word against yours so I'll try my best to prove that it really was a coincidence.

Firstly. Absolutely no disrespect meant here but I don't know who you are. In your post you mentioned that we don't interact openly its because I didn't know about your simblr until it was mentioned in the reply in my post which was literally last night. That was the first time I heard of it. In fact if I had ran across your simblr I probably would have followed you and read your stories because they look good. I have over 300k likes, if I saw your posts I would have liked them. I like posts of people that are not my mutuals ever day. I'm not shy about liking posts. I've not liked a single one of your posts, not because they are bad, they clearly are not in any way, but because I have not seen them.

Since that reply in my post mentioned your character being in a newer story of yours I decided to check how new and the earliest I could find a post mentioning that character was December 31st 2024. A Happy New Years post that seems to be (happy to be corrected) the first time this character appears.

(And yes, agreed, that simblr who made that reply connecting us is one of the nicest people on this platform! I can agree with that!)

Well, I started to plan Elsie's story early. This includes making key characters that are not townies created by the game (since I play a legacy I makeover a lot of sims for whatever evil purposes I have) but Aurel was always going to be one since Elsie moves into a house with a coffin and him sleeping in it. I have proof of how early I had planned this...

Here is the scrivener file, a file I used to keep track of all character notes etc for my legacies, you can see the date on it...

Here is a snippet of him being in the file, can't show the character file as it would be spoilers but...

And lastly, since this doesn't prove that I didn't just create this now, here is the literal sim in S4TI since he happened to be one of the few sims I hand made for this legacy, this should prove when I made him in game, including his name.

And lastly, the link to Elsie's announcement post...

That is dated Jan 1st.

So, this proves I had made Elsie's story on the 30th and it proves that I had at least made my Vasilescu sim on the 3rd and it looks like, based on my search of their simblr, theirs debuted on Dec 31st? Is it really likely that I saw one post of your brand new story/character then nabbed the name right away only to reveal it months later? Why just steal a name any ways, if I wanted to steal, wouldn't I steal much more from that story and just change the name? Usually characters that are stolen the name is the main change while everything else remains the same, but reading those first few posts I can 100% confirm that my Aurel is a A LOT different from Aurelia. If I were this malicious stealer why not name him Aron or something if I were so eager to steal the name?

Also, I'm super collab friendly, if I knew your story it is much more likely I would have just asked for a collab then steal from you.

The truth is we both settled on what we thought were great names for these characters and they happened to be super similar. Yes, it is highly unlikely but it happened. I've done my best to prove though that I wasn't copying your OC by showing I had already created this character in my mind around the very same time you introduced yours and for me to steal I'd also have to know yours existed and I simply did not.

I did not delete any comments or replies.

I will try to assume the best because I do think a lot of issues people have comes from assuming the worst of someone then acting on those assumptions, but...I am very much a creature of habit.

When I reply, I always reply a day late, I do this because I like responding to EVERY comment made and doing it a day later makes it easier to organize and less likely that I will miss or skip over a comment. The exception is when people reply to a post I already replied to then yes, I will reply to those sometimes when I see them. There was a short time for this new legacy since I got more comments I tried replying when I saw them but it just didn't help my organization and again, I really try to reply to EVERY comment I see. Pull up any old post of mines, even from YEARS ago, you can see this.

I think anyone commenting on my stories can confirm that my replies will come at least a day later, days later if I'm on a break, rarely on the same day UNLESS there is something I see that I need to address. Proof of this is you can pull up recent posts and see that many don't have my replies yet, today I will reply to posts made March 28th for instance if I have time to reply, but again, if it feels like something I need to reply to and I happen to see the reply, I do so.

There was little chance of that happening for your particular comment that day because that day I received over 30 replies (THANK YOU ALL FOR THAT SERIOUSLY!). So I did not even see your reply to comment on or to delete and I think how you framed it makes it look like I was maliciously deleting your comments?

I'll quote from your post.

"A lovely moot very delicately mentioned it in the other person's comments while @'ing me, I replied with something like, "I'm curious as well!", and now they appear to be deleting and restricting comments rather than addressing the situation."

Well I am addressing the situation now so that should clear up the assumption that I wouldn't want to do that or that I'm a weasel who wanted to avoid it but how you've framed it, deleting comments, I was going to link the post but realized doing so would have your username and I don't want people outside getting into this and stirring up more drama, but that post has ONE comment deleted. Not comment(s). It has 17 replies on it, I don't think that sounds like me trying to delete or restrict comments on it. There is one comment on that post I have yet to reply to because it was made on the 28th and I'll reply to it later today or tonight even if I have t

But that one that is deleted I assume is yours? Well, my guess is when you blocked me it deleted this comment? Or you deleted the comment? I don't know, I don't know how tumblr works, I know I didn't touch the comment because again, I just started replying to comments on the 27th last night. Had I seen it I would have messaged you and replied to you. I think if this long post shows anything it shows I would have been very willing to message you.

I'm someone that had an entire pro-life and pro-choice (I was pro-choice) debate with a mutual in my comment section and didn't delete a single comment or unfriended them or treated them differently even though we very much disagreed. So no, I wasn't scared of confrontation or anything like that. I once asked people to openly criticize my stories anonymously if they wanted to. I have very thick skin.

But you said comments, as in plural, and that bothers me since it frames it in a way as if you made multiple comments and I deleted them all frantically running away from it.

Had you waited (and not saying you should have) I would have responded in my comment section and likely would have reached out and had you sent me mail or a message I also would have replied once I saw it, no hesitation. I don't see myself as above anyone here, I don't play clique games, I reply and interact with anyone that reaches out to me.

So, what now...

Well I dunno! I just wanted to defend myself since again, they have mutuals that I have and I did not want those mutuals to see those names and then think I am the thief and the one deleting comments and felt attacked and since her post clearly implicates me I must defend myself. If it were more vague, I likely leave it alone or maybe even created a tumblr just to send her an anon and tried to clear things up but the post is public and very clearly implicates me since again, we have shared mutuals and they will read her story then read mines and then make the connection.

I understand why she might feel frustrated and such, she felt I had stolen from her and reacted to that, so I'm not mad about that. If I saw someone with a Marisol Quesada I would have went hmmmm too but I do think I would have handled it differently but we are all different people with different experiences and such.

But, I will move on regardless. Since she has blocked me, I don't know if she will see this post (or want to see it) but I really hope more importantly the mutuals we share see it since that is the main reason I made this.

If you do see this post know there really are no hard feelings, I don't want this to come off as an attack against her or for it to escalate further. I'm just defending myself here from those claims and if you unblock me and want to chat I'd be open to that and if you delete your post about me, I'll delete this, and i've made this post non-rebloggable because I'm not trying to ever spread drama. I'll even reblog your story and promote it even because my main goals here are to share my stories but also share other's stories because I know most of us write and post because we want to share our stories and others seeing them, commenting, reblogging, liking, validates the work we put into each post.

I will make an exception about deleting comments on this post though, if there are any that seem directed at her in a negative way I will delete them, not that I expect them or anything, I have no idea what the reaction will be when this post goes live I might get tar and feathered but like I said I don't want this to be an attack towards anyone but if anyone has anything negative to say about me regarding this point, fire away, just know if you do it anonymously I will get very snappy...this is just me defending myself as an artist and a person. I didn't steal and I didn't delete any comments. I've done my best to prove both of those I hope. I dont want any of our shared mutuals picking a side, I just want to tell my side and defend myself because I again I felt attacked.

I've been here ten years, posting ten years, pretty consistently too! I'm just here in my little iggleverse corner posting, not bothering anyone, not engaging in any drama, and always trying to promote other simblrs big and small.

For those that made it this far...umm sorry this was long but I do type too much sorry T_T and hey, the defendant usually has to do a bit more...

But 10 years here, I just post, so, with all that said, the show must go on...

[lcvebuckley]

idk if anyone else watched manifest on netflix but i'm thinking of a bucktommy crossover au in which buck and tommy had to take separate flights due to a delay and buck took the later flight, which ended up landing 2 (maybe more?) years later.

when he arrived, he found out tommy never moved on and always believed that buck was still alive when everyone else told him that wasn't possible, assuming the plane crashed. maddie, athena and the 118 couldn't believe their eyes when they heard the news about buck's missing flight that landed after years.

buck coming back, confused as hell as to why people were looking at him like they saw a ghost until he realized the date was a few years after he departed and he thought this was some sort of sick joke or that he'd gone crazy.

maddie and chim apparently had their second kid, who's now a toddler and jeeyun is in middle school. athena and bobby finished building their house, hen and karen have moved out of their place to a bigger one for the kids, and eddie moved back to LA with chris.

buck couldn't comprehend what's happening. nothing made sense. just a few hours ago, maddie was still pregnant, bobby was getting a call from michael about the house, hen was still living at her old place, and eddie was in texas. what the hell happened? then he saw tommy.

tommy's curls had grown extremely long, he also has grown a beard which covered the entire half of his face. he was dressed in loose flannel and a sweatpants. he looked very shabby for someone who's always been into the clean, sharp look. his eyes were bloodshot, like he's been crying non-stop or have been getting no sleep.

buck couldn't believe it. tommy didn't look like that a few hours ago when he left, so how come someone can change so much in such a short time? "evan.." he said before engulfing him in a hug, afraid to let him go again.

i want someone else to be on that plane with buck as well so he has someone he can talk to about this hell of a situation but idk who 😭😭 i couldn't separate any of the 118 from their family like that HSHDJS i was thinking eddie at first but then imagine chris thinking his dad died in a plane crash oh my god THE ANGSTTT i don't know if i can do that to myself

i'll probably post a better version of this once i have it written (if i ever do) but ever since i rewatched manifest i haven't been able to stop thinking about this

[dark-lord-of-awesomeness]

this is just a random thing but,

How would each Ford (your pick) in your aus react to their Stan being sick?

(will horse Stan have to get put down if he gets sick??? Also I feel like ford would keep Stan's slime for research purposes in your shapeshifter Stan au)

(Ford is already keeping Stan's slime for research purposes in doppeldead, no worries lol)

Since i have a million little one off au's, I'll stick with ao3 published work Fords.

Cat Stan, while Nikola, gets swaddle prison. Fords determined to cure his poor cat from whatever ails him :( His poor little buddy :( Stan's mewling pathetically, trying to wriggle free and just be miserable under the bed or something to avoid all of Fords potions.

Post reveal Ford makes him soup and gives him medicine, while wearing a face mask and quarantining him. Same for double cursed.

Bill Wins Stan is getting swaddled again, a miserable lump under the covers as Ford acts like he's dying. Shoving potions and medicine down his throat, then sitting on the edge of the bed and holding his hand, eyes wattery as he pets Stan's hand fur. Then Ford gets sick and Stan laughs, shoves a bunch of blankets on top of him, and hangs out in the room so Ford doesn't make himself sicker trying to chase him around the house.

Special Delivery Ford already had a sick Stan, where he drugged his poor brother with Ultra Medicine to get it over with as quickly as possible that knocked him out for a full day.

Completing the Cycle Ford prereveal doesn't even realize Stan gets sick, so terrible is he with his axolotl pet care. Stan spends a few days less active and Ford does not notice. Post Reveal Stan makes a joke about regrowing his nose if it falls off and has to backtrack at Fords sad eyes. This Ford also just piles Stan with soup and blankets, wearing a mask.

Doppelganger Ford has a small meltdown. He has no idea what illness might do to Stan's alien biology (he is keeping everything Stan sneezes and oozes, wearing a full hazmat suit and also quarantining the room). Fords hovering outside, running to get anything Stan asks for and scribbling down every symptom and analyzing all of Stan's gross ooze. He's gonna cure Stan! Of his alien- oh nevermind he's fine now :(

Venus Vampire Trap Ford technically also saw sick Stan with him starving to death. His response is to shove blood down Stan's throat until he gets better lol.

Horse Stan is not getting put down lol. He's still a person under that horse! He gets to lay in, be sick and a horse, while Ford helps him eat soup and both of them stare at bottles of horse and human medicine and contemplate calling an actual doctor or at least a biologist.

Dragon Ford just hovers over Stan, since his mark lets him know Stan's overall health already and Fiddlefords freaking out enough for both of them. He'll carry Stan around more, then laugh as Fiddleford screams about Stan sneezing.

PPBB is also mother henning. If this is early on then Stan doesn't say anything about being sick at all, and Ford's forced to hover over him and pile him with questions to even get a hint of Stan's general symptoms. Stan could be dying or have a cold and its up to Ford to figure it out based on Stan's 'yeahs' and 'nahs'. Once Stan recovers he eases back into just getting him soup and medicine, making sure he's ok and leaving him too it.

And thats that! I feel like overall Fords probably not one to hover obsessively, just makes sure Stan's comfortable and to let him know if he needs anything. Maybe does his own thing in the same room so he can keep an eye on him.

[f-imaginings]

congratulations on completing the best fic ever written! such a milestone it's insane

do you plan on taking a brake for a while? i assume writing such a huge work must be exhausting, no matter how enjoyable. at what pace are you planning to write the sequel? are you excited to start as soon as possible or do you feel like having some rest?

Thank you 😊 I'm excited to have finished it! It seems like people don't hate the ending haha so that's a huge relief for me. I'm glad you enjoyed it!

I planned on a month's break before writing the sequel but I had a stressful week, slipped and accidentally ended up writing the first four pages of the sequel lmao. Writing has definitely become a stress reliever and comfort for me and towards the end of the fic I kept telling myself "write this hard scene and then you get to have fun in the sequel" haha so I feel like depending on my mood I might write more instead of taking that break. Maybe I'll just write at less of a full on pace this month and see how I feel after. There's no heavy deadline for the sequel, and there's only 16 chapters too so I can take my time with them and just have fun.

Now that the fic is finished though I feel like I'm able to finally read other billford fanfics (I ended up not reading any while writing BC of a bad experience w another author accusing me of plagiarism - all debunked I think they were just young and possessive over the characters and didn't like seeing another human bill fic getting traction) I've made a few exceptions for fics like Theseus's Guide and Statement Abnegation since everyone was reccing them and they both absolutely slapped, excellent reads! And ppl in the kmky discord server have given me a beautiful list of fic recs that I can enjoy so I'll probably write a little, read a little, relax and balance fandom stuff with real life obligations for a while. First on my list is A Human Condition followed by Multiversal Manhunt Moved to Your Backyard, then the Margaritabille fics and then I'll pick through the rest of the rec list! Expect enthusiastic comments from me haha I'm so excited to read what's out there.

As far as a timeline for the sequel goes if I chip away at it like I've been doing it might be finished by the end of next year. It's all planned out, from start to finish and the chapters will probably be as long as the last couple of chapters we saw in kmky. With the exception of the first and last chapters each chapter will cover one week in gravity falls counting down from the start of summer to the end of summer. I hope you'll have as much fun with it as I'm having, as there are good jokes, genuine redemption and lots of conflicted romantic feelings lined up to reunite our on again off again on again assholes, this time with much lower stakes than the end of the world. There will be action, adventure, heists, seances, and a strong emphasis on the power of recovery and self acceptance, in all its many forms. Hopefully it'll make y'all feel light and happy by the end of it, to make up for kmky reaching into everyone's amygdala and continuously pressing the cry now button like a naughty child.

Thank you for checking in 😊 I love interacting w the readers so hopefully I'll have something fun for you all to enjoy soon!

(I also have half of the pride month prompt to finish, but once that's done I'll post it on AO3, a belated pride month gift! Lmao it's pride month all year with me hahah)

[aiiria17]

I (re)read Dark River: Warriors, Power of Three

That's from the official website and looks way nicer than any bad screenshot I could do. I even went back and stole the one for The Sight cause it just looks cleaner. Yippee! (Still prefer the old cover cause it's pretty but I'll settle)

Dark River is a weird book to talk about because it's a whole lot of setting up and introducing concepts that are clearly going to return later. I intentionally am not talking about Jaypaw much because he only really does anything in the climax and is otherwise just establishing things for later.

One character who does actually standout in the book is Lionpaw, who makes up for having like four chapters in The Sight by eating the "screentime" in Dark River for breakfast. And that's good, he really had no established character at the start of the book but actually has some stuff going on by the end.

Lionpaw's Epic Warrior Cats Roleplay

The main plotline of Dark River centers around Lionpaw and Heatherpaw's roleplaying as warrior cats despite being warrior cats. I'd make fun of them but it's reminiscent of normal children behavior, like elementary schoolers playing games like "house" or "warrior cats". Wanna guess which of those two I liked more as a 9 year old? Every DarkClan scene is so adorable. I mean Lionpaw (who in my head is really fluffy and cute) is running off into a hole in the ground to go have secret nighttime playdates with his best bud Heatherpaw.

An unavoidable part of their meetups is that it is, technically, a forbidden romance plotline. Again. The only difference is that, in my interpretation of Lionpaw, he does not really have substantial romantic interests in Heatherpaw. He doesn't seem to exhibit any romantic interests besides maybe saying she's pretty once? I think Lionpaw just wants to roleplay warrior cats. What I won't deny, however, is that I was terrified when I saw them agree to meet at the Windclan-Thunderclan border at night. Leafpool/Crowfeather was literally just three books ago and it's the exact same area but without the internal character conflicts that Leafpool brought to bring nuance to the situation. It truly was just another forbidden romance plotline. Nothing unique to it, even.

Then they founded DarkClan as Heatherstar and Lionclaw and yep nevermind that's definitely different. I think the author(s) intentionally set up the most generic possible beginning to their relationship so that the reader's expectations are squashed and ready to be surprised by a slightly different take on things.

Later on, there's a training session with Lionpaw, Berrypaw and their mentors (Ashfur & Brambleclaw) that sets the tone for Lionpaw's character. Because of the nightly roleplay meetups, Lionpaw is exhausted and fails to even challenge Berrypaw, but the scuffle they have sets up Lionpaw's aggression. He's incredibly easy to rile up. Berrypaw calls him "Lionkit" once and it sets him off like crazy. After a seemingly minor insult (hard to say which insults are the worst when looking at a fictional society), Lionpaw just charges in and gets beat easily by Berrypaw due to their size, skill, and exhaustion differences. Having a very easily riled up and strong main character is an exciting prospect, especially given Lionpaw's power that hasn't been introduced yet. He's a ticking time bomb of anger and, when he explodes, it'll probably be disastrous. It's here that I realized, rereading Power of Three for the first time since I was like 10, that I might actually like Lionpaw. I remember hearing jokes about him being boring and echoing that sentiment (I think I actually might have referenced not caring about Lionpaw in my Sunset post) but now I actually find him rather compelling. He's a main character who can easily cause a lot of harm and is easy to manipulate into doing it.

Back to the current book, Ashfur roasts the hell out of Lionpaw for how badly he gets beat by Berrypaw, expressing his frustrations about how Lionpaw is as an apprentice. As it turns out, the forbidden romance actually does have consequences. Just like Silverstream. And Crowfeather. Who could've seen it coming? However, Ashfur, seemingly to show that he believes in Lionpaw still, tries to teach him on of the hardest moves he can. 2 attempts in, Brambleclaw takes Ashfur leaving Lionpaw alone. But only temporarily.

As if Lionpaw wasn't enough of a time bomb, Tigerstar, now joined by Hawkfrost, have found themselves a new cat to teach in their hell training program. You don't even have to pay for admission! Also they can appear as spirits in the living world now, which is new. Patch 1.3 is going crazy! Tigerstar is also a really interesting villain in the context of Power of Three. For Lionpaw, he's just a generic bad name, a tale told to him that has no personal meaning. At a gathering earlier on, Tawnypelt's kit, Tigerkit, is mentioned to all the clans (weird name choice but uhh...). Lionpaw has this reaction:

"How could Tigerstar still frighten them when he was nothing but a memory from long ago and far away? They were as superstitious as owls!"

I mean, there's no permanent consequences of his actions from Lionpaw's perspective, so why reject help on the basis of nursery tales? That's why Tigerstar is so scary: he's approaching Lionpaw sincerely. Undeniably, Lionpaw needs help with his training that Ashfur was momentarily not able to provide, and in that brief timeframe, Tigerstar was able to recruit for himself an unbelievably strong, easily manipulated ally.

Brambleclaw also really helps Tigerstar in his recruitment effort by... directly telling Lionpaw that he thinks Tigerstar wasn't all that bad actually. Wow I can't believe this is a real character and the deputy of Thunderclan. Remember the dogs? Remember Scourge? Remember Tigerclan? Brambleclaw does, which makes everything especially weird. But he made the trains run on time! or whatever. God I hate Brambleclaw. He's a terrible influence on Lionpaw and literally ends up being a clear reason that he trusts and trains with Tigerstar and Hawkfrost.

Nothing comes of Lionpaw's "dark forest" training yet (he hasn't even gone to the forest, after all), but it puts a second side on Lionpaw's coin. He's a very good and loyal clan member who doesn't want to do any wrong, but he's also an inevitable, unavoidable problem waiting to happen. And that certainly isn't boring.

Cinderpaw pt. 2: Now With a Less Broken Leg!

Cinderpaw is possibly the funniest character in the series. She's just kind of possessed/haunted by Cinderpelt in a weirdly explained way because StarClan felt bad or something? Like in exchange for forcing her to die young, the cat ancestors decide to just shove her soul into a kit. For fun! I don't know how the Cinderpelt possession works, but it's only actually relevant in the funniest possible ways.

My favorite scene in the whole book is when Cinderpaw is talking to Hollypaw and gets on the subject of badgers. She says "'I hope I never meet another one as long as I live.' Hollypaw responds by saying "hey uhh you haven't met a badger though?" Which is arguably untrue, given that she was born during a badger attack. It's possible that she's referring to her indirect knowledge of her birth. But Hollypaw's also right because Cinderpaw was minutes old so like it doesn't really count.

Cinderpaw tipped her head to one side. Confusion clouded her gaze. “You’re right.” She reached out and tugged some stale moss from beside Mousefur. “I must have dreamed it.” Cinderpaw could be so mouse-brained!

I love that scene. Cinderpaw literally says "source: it came to me in a dream" and Hollypaw's just like "wow you're so quirky haha." Meanwhile, the reader knows that what Cinderpaw is experiencing is indirect memories of another cats death that she has been cursed with. The book spends a lot of time early on setting up that Cinderpaw is Cinderpelt. Surely that won't be important.

Mousepaw gets stuck in a tree, and Cinderpaw remembers that she also one time dreamed about being a firefighter and tries to get him down. None of the full warriors do anything but watch the two apprentices climb unbelievably high up. It ends poorly as Cinderpaw is not possessed by the ghost of a firefighter, only a medicine cat. She falls and breaks one of her hind legs. Luckily Mousepaw, who's my new favorite background character, is completely fine. Leafpool is noticeably distressed by Cinderpaw's new injury. As a brief reminder, Leafpool knows that Cinderpelt is haunting/possessing/what is even happening I'm so confused Cinderpaw's body and also blames herself for Cinderpelt's death. So, Cinderpaw is now briefly in the medicine den due to her injury; it is confirmed that she'll be fine and won't have to get banished like in her past(?) life.

But let's talk about Jaypaw. Just like with Poppypaw, he syncs himself with Cinderpaw to enter her dreams and say "don't die please I'll look bad." Instead, he finds out about the whole possession thing and also sees the forest territory. He talks to Cinderpelt to a bit, who says "Tell Leafpool that she has nothing to fear. I will recover this time. And tell her that I am proud of her. She has learned more than I could ever have taught her." Jaypaw proceeds to not tell Leafpool any of that besides the "she'll be fine part." For some reason, likely just natural curiosity, Jaypaw tries to find out how much Cinderpaw knows from her past life, which Leafpool puts a stop to because it's weird and kinda unethical. Basically, Leafpool really wants Cinderpaw to become a warrior because that's what she wants to do. The whole deal with Cinderpelt is just weird overall, it feels like Leafpool's opinion is just "hey maybe StarClan should have just left this poor child alone." Like it's super weird, maybe, that the cat ancestors shoved a whole medicine cat inside a kit for no particular reason. They don't do this frequently, and it kind of damages Cinderpelt's character.

To me, Cinderpelt's whole deal, the reason she was good, was because she found a place for herself and a purpose in her life while pushing through her injury. She wasn't able to become a warrior, but instead found a satisfactory life as a medicine cat instead. Do you see how this gets thrown away by her getting a runback? Who cares about her having to find purpose in a position she settled for when she just gets to undo it anyways. Maybe if this was a plotline about a character who never got given a chance to achieve anything or be satisfied in life (Swiftpaw is the first that comes to mind) I'd find it significantly less weird but the very plotline seems contradictory to Cinderpelt's character. It implies that she never found happiness as a medicine cat when her whole thing in TPB was about finding happiness as a medicine cat!

Boo Cinderpaw (not like that I actually like her as a character). Alternatively: Boo StarClan (we're going to the Dark Forest with this one boys)

Jaypaw Doesn't Do Much

Other than investigating the weird stuff StarClan did to Cinderpaw and the climax, Jaypaw's only other action of note in Dark River is finding the stick.

Jaypaw finds Rock's stick at the lake and is just like "woah that's cool I love that" but Leafpool tells him to focus on herbs so he leaves it. Then he drags a barely awake Lionpaw to help him grab it, only to find it gone. Luckily he re-finds it and puts it in a safe space. Obviously the stick is important, but in its introduction it really just feels like Jaypaw is obsessing over it because it feels nice to touch. Like obviously it has a magic aura or whatever, but I personally think that he just wants it because it feels good to poke at.

I'll talk about the stick more later but really that's about it for Jaypaw until the end of the book. Man just wants to touch a stick cause it's all smooth and nice. Hopefully he's more prevalent in Outcast cause I love him he's my favorite character. On to Hollypaw now.

Hollypaw visits RiverClan

Hollypaw is really worried about her dear pal Willowpaw and also the rest of RiverClan. Everyone reaches the same logical conclusion: clearly, RiverClan, despite saying they are good and won't leave their territory, are going to leave their territory and invade Windclan. Not ShadowClan, that's not a possibility. Specifically WindClan. Anyways, because of this, WindClan is equally obviously going to invade ThunderClan, so it's going to effect everyone. Except ShadowClan, who is somehow completely fine and busy naming their kits after dictators. Brokenkit next?

Hollypaw doesn't agree with everyone despite obvious evidence like "trust me bro" and "WindClan is hunting in their territory but not rabbits," so she decides to go to RiverClan on her own to find out. First of all, I like the parallels that are set up between Hollypaw and Firestar. The series seems to be trying to establish a similarity between them: a heavy sense of self justice, a desire to help their clans, and also, you know, them being directly related. It seems like the books are setting up for Hollypaw to kind of follow her father's footsteps which sets up later stuff she does to be a subversion of what the reader expects to happen.

Anyways, she uses that internal desire to fix problems on her own that she got from grandpappy Firestar to try and roles up to their territory and... gets kidnapped. They at least give an answer: RiverClan is making a dam to like dissuade twolegs from messing around in their camp or... something? Leopardstar intimidates Hollypaw into not revealing anything though, as her saying things would resolve the conflict to cleanly. I mean WindClan hasn't even had time to get all murder-y yet. There's no real rational reason for Leopardstar to do this, beyond the generic "our clan will look weak" that leaders always fall back on when the plot needs stagnation. Yet another dumb decision for Leopardstar, may her reign be forgettable and dubious at best. So Hollypaw is kidnapped by RiverClan. She's not too bummed out though, because she just gets to hang out with Willowpaw and do nothing but sit around all day.

Eventually Jaypaw decides to track her down via his dreams, but he waits like a day because he is mad and wants to hang out with Fallen Leaves instead. After that, Squirrelflight retrieves her and they go home. Hollypaw proceeds to say absolutely nothing about what's happening; she literally says "hey Firestar, RiverClan isn't going to fight so we don't have to fight WindClan" "hey Hollypaw, what's your source?" "oh sorry Leopardstar told me not to say." So nothing happens. Cool!

Side Note - Elders at Gathering

So when we see all of RiverClan at the island, one of the things Hollypaw brings up that makes her realize there's a problem is that elders are at the gathering. That's when I realized that elders no longer attend gatherings. When did this change happen? In TPB, Firepaw/heart mentions seeing and talking to elders multiple times; I distinctly remember some of them calling him stupid and a dumb millennial or whatever. They were probably kicked out because the tree bridge can be hard to cross, but why was it never brought up? The authors probably just forgot and assumed that elders never came to the gatherings but it's just funny because the elders definitely would have complained. You mean to tell me that Mousefur didn't complain about this? She complains about everything (and we love her for it).

WindClan is Mean and Annoying Now

The end of the book centers on a few WindClan kits going missing. Heatherpaw, and the readers, know they went to the roleplay dimension, because they followed Heatherpaw like 90% of the way there earlier. Onestar, in his infinite rationality, just decides that RiverClan stole them on the basis of hilarious coincidence (RiverClan was found on their territory the very second the kits ran off). Jaypaw and Leafpool were there to negotiate but the now bloodthirsty WindClan has decided to kill instead.

Lionpaw responds by gathering his siblings and leading them to the cave where the kits are supposed to be. Small problem: by the time Lionpaw leaves, Jaypaw has already come home and is like settled in, implying that it's been at least a few hours. So they've definitely already attacked RiverClan by now, given that they left to fight the millisecond Leafpool left. Disregarding that, The Three meet up with Heatherpaw and Breezepaw in the cave and engage in operation find some kits or whatever.

Fallen Leaves and why Cave Diving is Scary

The cave and Fallen Leaves is so well set up and is easily my favorite part of Dark River. The prologue centers around Fallen Leaves, an ancient cat who seems to live around where WindClan currently does, going to do some kind of trial so he can become a sharpclaw, which appears to be an ancient warrior. Before beginning, Rock, the guy who gives the trial and is also immortal or something, asks if there is any rain. "Nobody likes a rainy trial of life and death" says Rock. Fallen Leaves says there is totally no rain coming.

I love when the prologue of the books is actually like, important in any way. Fallen Leaves' story is meant to foreshadow the end of the book, where the merry band of apprentices find themselves in the same cave in the same situation. The difference is that Fallen Leaves dies but they have to live.

Before that, Jaypaw directly experiences Fallen Leaves' death through one of his dreams. When he goes to cuddle with the stick, he ends up going back and time and walking alongside Fallen Leaves when he does the weird death trial Rock gives out. It both provides the stick's backstory and also more setup for the ending scene. Jaypaw's reactions upon entering the cave are meant to confirm that the trial cave and the roleplay cave are in fact one and the same.

So the setup is complete. It's hard to show how effective it is via summary, but the strong point of the book is just how well the cave is set up and how central it becomes to the story. It serves as a symbol of the unknown, hiding both the friendship of Heatherpaw and Lionpaw and the the rich history of the territories that the clans now call home. And now the kits have stumbled into this complete unknown and the one leading the charge to look for them is the cat who cannot see. I haven't mentioned it yet, but Jaypaw's blindness is the very standard ironic literary blindness, where the one who cannot see is often the one who sees the most. The cave is just the most literal example of that. But his blindness is clearly symbolic of just how much he's able to see compared to his non-blind clanmates.

Jaypaw is guided by the ghost of Fallen Leaves through the caves where they do eventually find the kits. He helps Jaypaw because, back in the past, he knew Jaypaw was with him in the caves then, so he helps Jaypaw find his way out to return the favor: "“I will walk with you, my friend, as you once walked with me." Unfortunately, when they find the kits, the cave starts to flood, and Fallen Leaves vanishes out of fear from having to relive his own death (side note- he likely goes through this everytime it rains. Poor guy). Rock is there to show Jaypaw that they will live, at least that's how he interprets it. In reality, Rock seemed to just be putting a mark down that they were officially in the life or death trial. They swim out and are fine, passing the trial, and getting their marks crossed on the stick (by the way - the stick is how Jaypaw figures out how to get out, as he infers that the cave water empties out into the lake).

Jaypaw and the rest of the group are able to pass the trial that Fallen Leaves failed and raise a lot of questions about the stick, Rock, the ancient cats, and the lake as a whole.

That's the highlight of Dark River, a long setup with a very good payoff in one of the most exhilarating climaxing the series has seen so far.

Conclusion

Weird post to write for me, I just didn't have any strong opinions for Dark River (other than yet another Brambleclaw rant). Part of that is just me not having that many thoughts, part of that is me wanting to finish this before moving onto Outcast, but most of that is just inherent to the book. It's the second book in a six book arc, it doesn't stand alone super duper well (and it's not supposed to). I do like a lot of the world building set up. The lake territories were pretty boring compared to the forest, and the added history of the ancient cats like Fallen Leaves and the mystery of Rock being some immortal cat. For that, Dark River is incredibly effective. It also makes Lionpaw significantly more interesting.c

Next book is Outcast which I remember as the book I always dreaded reading when rereading Power of Three. I know its the tribe book of the arc, and I don't think the tribe is particularly interesting. But I'm staying open minded: if I liked Lionpaw a lot, then who knows what I'll end up liking.

Again, lowkey not my best work, but I'm posting it anyways cause I don't really feel like spending more time revising it (I just genuinely don't have much to say). Thanks for reading. Come back next (?????) when I finish Outcast.

Bye bye

[mariako-750]

I'm making multiple posts in which I talk about Ragatha because I see myself in her pt.2 (except this time I don't)

TW: Mentions of domestic/child abuse

————————————————————————

Picking up where we left off, I talked about Ragatha's low self-worth and repressed feelings caused by the household she lived in. Let's talk about that more, shall we?

I'd first like to direct your attention to something someone else noticed( @actuallyjustabiscuit and here's their post): When Ragatha begins to talk about her mother, she freezes up and subconsciously fixes her loose dress strap.

Knowing she come from wealth, she most definitely had to keep up a reputation for herself and her family. Sort of combine Isabella and Mirabel Madrigal from Encanto, in the sense that she may have been forced to be perfect and was overlooked by her family and possibly others because she couldn't meet those standards.

Now, her mother? Well in Ragatha's own words: "my mother was... a lot."

That is honestly the most heartbreaking part to me. Because even though there's tons of parents who pressure their kids the same way and do all the stuff her mother did, at least they still hold some love for their kids.

Her mom? No. Ragatha's mom, at least from her own perspective, didn't see her as a person. She probably didn't even see her as her own child. She saw Ragatha as a thing to praise herself with when she met those expectations. A trophy. In the sense that she only ever admitted to being her mother like "Oh, that girl with gold medal? The top of her class? Yeah, I'm her mother, she gets all that from me." And when Ragatha didn't meet those expectations "She's not mine."

And don't you dare look me in the eyes and say that that isn't at least a bit possible or even believable, because no matter what, her mom definitely saw her as a trophy more than a human being.

You bet your ass that that guilt-tripping involved some version of "I went through all this pain to bring you into this world and this is how you repay me? Being a disappointment?"

(I am REAAAALLY reaching in this next part ughhhh)

Now, I may be reading too much into this and the avatars they possess might just be existing characters that they chose or customized before entering the game, but just let me get real for a moment.

What if the abuse was more than just emotional? What if Ragatha being a ragdoll symbolize something more physical about her abuse? Am I saying that her mother would get physical with her during arguments? Yes, I am actually.

I know the hand is just supposed to be a nervous/shy gesture(and if you are an abuse victim please do correct me!!), but I can't help but see that along with her ragdoll avatar and think it may hint to an even darker past. Maybe that's also something the dress strap represented, her subconsciously hiding her abuse.

I wanted to use this image for another part of this "analysis"(*cough cough* rambling *cough cough*), but I can't let go of the fact that she chooses to laugh at her own pain to get Pomni on her side again.

Yes it was a "um awkwaaaard" sort of joke, but she only found out that Pomni finds Jax's violence funny at the end of the episode. Why did she think that Pomni would find that memory funny?

Is it because she thinks Pomni somewhat dislikes her so her pain must be funny?

Or is it because at some point when she was alive, she would make fun of her pain to entertain others? What if she had siblings and she was the golden child? What if they resented her for being the trophy? What if she tried making them laugh at her pain, her abuse in an attempt to make them hate her less? What if it worked?

Okay, that last part is just rambling and assuming and headcanon, so I'll do like Raggy and quickly down this angst.

————————————————————————

Part 1, part 3 soon?

[spkkr]

NOTE: this is following this post (i'm not reblogging as i will probably be editing each a lot). this is basically a pt. 2 of me horribly analysing and breaking down the design elements of the lltbp and draag. ft. lazy analysis and poor explanations. please excuse any mistakes i'm so tired and i haven't reviewed/edited it. 23.07.25, 24.07.25, 25.07.25, 26.07.25 mentions of hanging, nazis, executions.

I was skimming the blog Nate Piekos released again this morning, and I remembered I wanted to note this— "While I was sketching, Gerard emailed me one particular glyph that he’d created and was calling, “the hangman” symbol. It was inspired by the old pen and paper game called, Hangman, that kids used to play. Gerard thought the symbol looked like the gallows from the game. I drew it as the last symbol on the sheet above." — "above" being below:

The glyph is the capital 'R' in the Keposhka alphabet.

I was like, huh, why Hangman? Yes, I agree— it does look like the gallows. So, I decided to look into the history of the game.

(LMAO? "...Hangman, that kids used to play." erm, the kids from yesterday? this is a joke.)

I'm kinda unsure about the origins of the game Hangman since I can't really find anything concrete other than some posts from Reddit and Quora, so I'll hold back on those theories. However, after clicking on Wikipedia, it led me to this:

NOTE: there's a video i just found which basically did all the work for me, so I'm just going to summarise and note the key points in which he researched (LIE).

He mentions that there are many Victorian and early 20th Century game books/parlour guides for parties. However, hangman was seen nowhere, "auspiciously missing" in the majority of the game books. Though in one of them, 'Fagots for Fireside' from Good Housekeeping (1885), by L. P. Hale and M. E. White contains possibly the first mention of the game.

The earliest rules — timestamp 15:38

The winner "is the player who guesses the proverb, or if all the players are hung, the player who chose the proverb."

NOTE: each player gets 6 wrong guesses before they're hung.

...and now, I'm not bothered to think about hangman (the game) anymore, so I might be losing information about it but I actually kind of think it's reaching, so I'll stop.

HOWEVER! during my initial research about hangman, I knew there were multiple possible meanings to hangman, including:

Reinhard Heydrich nicknamed "The Hangman" (for those who don't know, he was a German Nazi Official) - there's a book about him too but it's unavailable to borrow on the internet archive...

The Hanged Man -> 12th card of the Major Arcana (maybe? it's js that's it's called "hanged man" not hangman but whatever)

the hangman as the name for the executioner who hangs the condemned.

(he lowk looks like if someone used the liquify tool to elongate his face a little too far off centre.) Reinhard Heydrich, The Hangman of Europe, The Butcher of Prague, was given these nicknames largely due to the Third Reich's response to his assassination.

THE HANGED MAN

NOTE: I will be using mainly the Rider—Waite—Smith (RWS) tarot deck for the depictions of the cards as they are probably the most known, common and influential.

Invented in mid-15th century Italy, tarot is a set of playing cards originally used to play card games, now more known for its place in divination and fortune-telling.

STRUCTURE OF TAROT 78 cards — Major Arcana (22), Minor Arcana (56) Major Arcana — numbered 0-21, also known as trump cards. Minor Arcana — broken down into 4 suits: swords, pentacles, cups and wands. Upright: direct expression of the card, energies are "free to manifest." Reversed: energy not fully developed / losing power.

The Hanged Man (HM) is the 12th card of the Major Arcana (XII on the top of the card) found in most traditional decks. It depicts a man being hung upside-down by his ankle. His face is still, perhaps being hung up there voluntarily.

While that is the traditional depiction of The Hanged Man, there was a deck found Sicily (Tarocco Siciliano) with The Hanged Man tarot card instead with a picture of a man being hung by the neck (above, right).

"The main lesson of the Hanged Man is that we "control" by letting go - we "win" by surrendering. The figure on Card 12 has made the ultimate surrender - to die on the cross of his own travails - yet he shines with the glory of divine understanding. He has sacrificed himself, but he emerges the victor. The Hanged Man also tells us that we can "move forward" by standing still. By suspending time, we can have all the time in the world."

What seems contradictory could be the solution.

UPRIGHT HM: sacrifice/surrender, patience, embrace new opportunities. REVERSED HM: stalling, needless sacrifice, fear of sacrifice.

ABOUT SACRIFICE... Many sources agree that the HM has the element of sacrifice, in the form of being the martyr.

From this, in relation to the LLTBP, we can ask:

Who is the hanged man? the martyr?

What did they see?

Did they sacrifice something? Life? their own life? for principle?

However, the designer of the Rider—Waite Tarot deck doesn't agree with the idea of martyrdom being associated with the HM, instead, offering the concept of the relation "between the Divine and the Universe."

In the book The Pictorial Key to the Tarot (1910) by the designer (A. E. Waite) of the RWS deck, he wrote:

"The gallows from which he is suspended forms a Tau cross, while the figure—from the position of the legs—forms a fylfot cross. There is a nimbus about the head of the seeming martyr. It should be noted (1) that the tree of sacrifice is living wood, with leaves thereon; (2) that the face expresses deep entrancement, not suffering; (3) that the figure, as a whole, suggests life in suspension, but life and not death. [...] It has been called falsely a card of martyrdom, a card of prudence, a card of the Great Work, a card of duty [...] I will say very simply on my own part that it expresses the relation, in one of its aspects, between the Divine and the Universe."

He then wrote the meanings of the card:

"12. THE HANGED MAN.—Wisdom, circumspection, discernment, trials, sacrifice, intuition, divination, prophecy. Reversed:��Selfishness, the crowd, body politic."

Note, the glyph is on the lectern that has been shown at the LLTBP shows. One reversed, the other normal.

the keposha 'R' being the symbol of "the hangman" -> why is it on the lectern twice? hangman, the game? the nazi official? or plainly, the executioner, hanging the condemned? who are the condemned? what crimes have they committed?

On the lectern, the keposhka 'R' being normal then flipped, could be to parallel to the "upright" and "reversed" meanings in tarot cards.

In relation to Draag, could the lectern be the place where both the upright and reversed meanings are revealed? Where in the greatness of it all, there's a place for unveiling the absurdity? idk i'm js yapping.

Or is the reversed keposha 'R' related to the 21st Major Arcana, The World (TWo)?

TWo: symbolises evolution in movement (related to Draags progression in the form of industrialism and progress????), balance. It's dynamic. The green wreath is a symbol of success, and the red ribbons are signs of infinity.

UPRIGHT TWo: the meeting and merging of the inner and outer worlds -> enlightenment, wholeness, happiness, fulfilment. REVERSED TWo: nearing the end of a journey/era -> lack of closure, lack of achievement, full of emptiness.

I am still currently in the process of trying to figure out how might this relate and make sense.

... all this research might've been done in vain.

—

If we do go down the route of "who are the condemned?", we should also look back to the French Revolution (1789–1799) i wanted to add this to the previous post but i got lazy, wanted to talk about the keposhka 'R', and i reached the file limit...

Reign of Terror: 5th of September, 1793 – 27th of July, 1794 aka The Terror, La Terreur (in French).

During the French Revolution, there was a period of time called the Reign of Terror, known for its mass executions and arrests of those who were suspected to be enemies of the revolution.

Is the keposhka 'R' symbolic of the hanging people who opposed and spoke up against the revolution, the dictatorship? Is it similar to the USSR, where Soviet dissidents who openly condemned the state and Soviet ideology were almost always to face legal punishment, and the options of exile abroad and being stripped of their Soviet citizenship, be placed in a mental hospital or a labour camp.

UPDATE TO THE DRAAG NATIONAL FLAG THING:

If we rewind to the previous post, I talked about the flag of Draag and its relation to the "Softener of Evil Hearts" where 7 swords are stabbed into Mary's heart (Our Lady of Sorrows):

I wrote, "Is the fawn (symbolic of innocence and such), representative of the innocents who are slaves of the state without knowing it? A strip of red beneath the fawn: this country is built upon revolution? Wheat, growing from the fawn?? Or is that an arrow too, stabbing into the fawn? Will wheat, the symbol of prosperity, health, and growth, be the death of the population of Draag? What do the three main arrows represent? The fletching? Why is it red? Fletching is attached to the end of arrows to stabilise it aerodynamically — the red fletching -> revolution stabilising the population of Draag?"

"An icon of the "Softener of Evil Hearts" -> 7 swords stabbing into Mary's heart, symbolic of the grief and sadness she felt as Jesus' crucifixion. Does the fawn being stabbed by arrows have any connection?"

While researching the HM card, I decided to go through a few links and came across the layout of each suits in the Minor Arcana, and was immediately drawn towards the Three of Swords (3oS) as it reminded me of the fawn on Draag's flag and the "Softener of Evil Hearts". So, I decided to pick out similar ones I found resonated with me as well: Four of Swords (4oS), and Seven of Swords (7oS).

Suit of Swords: Occultists generally agree that the Suit of Swords is symbolic of The Second Estate from the Estates of the Realm. The Second Estate is the French royalty, nobility, outside of the monarch (he stands outside the Estates of the Realm). "This suit's strengths are all in the realm of thought, intelligence and communication. It is how we structure our world, organize and analyze data. This provides us with knowledge and clarity. People that are connected to the suit of swords, are curious, logical, disciplined, moral and fair."

"Within the tarot, the suit of swords can also be a problematic one. Think of the swords being able to be used for both good and evil; it has the power to save, sever, or to hurt. Therefore, this element is also associated with conflict, aggression and violence. At its worst, the suit of swords can use logic and words to bully and intimidate. Reversed swords cards usually have to do with feelings of ruthlessness, coldness, and confusion."

Essentially, it's a double-edged sword. "With great power comes great responsibility". It's a very mind-centred suit, with emphasis on knowledge, clarity, logic. However, when this power is in the hands of evil, it can be used to "bully", "intimidate". Note: ruthlessness, coldness.

The suit is associated with the element of Air— it's invisible, though is constant and dynamic. It has been to described to have a "masculine energy"

3oS: overly critical (especially of itself), impulse to breakdown something until it's basically futile, often seen with a bleeding heart. The swords represent -> intellect and the heart (the suffering).

4oS: avoidance, pushing problems away (swords displayed on the wall) while the POI prays for release. This card can also represent -> surrender, (not always) pacifism.

7oS: secrecy in action, attempting to slip under the radar with too much only to be caught and stuck in a vulnerable state. In a satisfactory reading, it indicates the need of sacrifice to move on (in relation to Draag, the martyr figure? who is the sacrifice?). Manipulation and dishonesty.

The three arrows in the national emblem of Draag, could it be that even from the inside of the government, there are people rebelling? Could it be symbolic of the dissidents' suffering? (gerard getting slapped?)

The four arrows in the flag -> could that be a symbol that death is the release? Is death the only way out for the people of Draag? idk.

UPDATE on Marianne!! 26.07.25 i was tagged in a post by @xxfangirl365xx— she arrived at a similar conclusion of the connection to Marianne. I'd just like to add onto some notes regarding Joan of Arc. The medallion thing directly from her post.

From the post, she's found that it's WWI, and some sources say that it's Joan of Arc printed on the medallion. The inscription, "Gallia", is the Latin for "Gaul" (the ancient region of that covers modern-day France, Belgium, the Netherlands, Germany, Northern Italy and parts of Switzerland). this is actually why a rooster represents France! The Latin word "gallus" can mean both "rooster" and "Gallic".

In my quest of researching tarot cards, I was looking particularly at the sword of suits. It's suggested that the Queen of Swords (QoS) represents Joan of Arc (JoA).

While I don't fully agree with this, it's one connection I've found. Also, St. Catherine of Alexandria (CoA). JoA's sword was called "Sword of St. Catherin" with five crosses engraved into the blade -> she "found it in a room behind the alter of the church Sainte Catherine de Fierbois".

QoS: she depicted to be extending her left hand, her sword firmly held in her right. Perhaps it's symbolic of a warning, self protection. In the notes for the RWS deck, it's noted that she is acquainted with sorrow -> relation to softener of evil hearts, our lady of sorrows?

JoA: faith, independence, resistance, courage. Though some sources imply that she is a martyr, she is venerated as a patron saint of France and soldiers.

St. CoA: a martyr, patron of scholars, philosophers, and protects from sudden death.

I am not bothered to find actual connections to the LLTBP/Draag yet, but this information is here regardless, and I'm big on the idea of the martyr (related to the Hanged Man tarot card). Who is the martyr?

REMINDER!! This post is subject to change + updates

[its-all-stardust]

Hey, so first of all, I love your work, it's absoluteley amazing!!!

I saw that your requests are open, so I thought that I would ask for a Matt Murdock x reader oneshot? You know, just something cute and fluffy?

Maybe I'm gonna sound a bit stereotypical but how about a reader that owns a bakery and wants to try out a new recipe. Matt tries to sneak a taste from time to time while "helping out" (honestly, he's just teasing and making reader's job probably harder [affectionaly]). Just domestic fluff? Maybe please?

You don't have to if you don't want to, but I thought I'd give it a try :)

Thank you!! I'm glad you like my writing!! 🫂

I'm worried with this one that I tweaked things just enough that it's not exactly what you wanted anon, but I did my best and wrote what inspiration gave me!! I'll be honest, it could be fluffier, but I'm also not offended by my own writing so that's something lol I hope you like it!! ❤️❤️

Check out this post for request guidelines

Masterlist

Matt Murdock/GN!Reader

Word Count: 964

Was turning your residential apartment into a glorified bakery after you moved in with your boyfriend legal? According to Matt, a very good lawyer, it wasn’t technically illegal, so you did it anyway and prayed your landlord never found out.

It wasn’t really a bakery, not in the traditional sense. You didn’t try making it into a storefront, nor did you want it to be one. You did, however, take specialty orders through your website. You mainly baked for small events or private parties. You weren’t touching a wedding with a ten-foot pole unless you made the cake or just one of the cookies for the snack table.

It wasn’t enough to pay the bills on its own—you still had a full-time job—but you enjoyed it, and the small amount of extra income it generated was nice.

Matt enjoyed it, too. So much so that you often joked he had ulterior motives for dating you.

But even though baking was a passion, it still came with challenges.

You let out a frustrated sigh and leaned against your elbows, bent over the counter, and buried your face in your hands. 

This is the worst part about baking, you thought.

“Do you need help?” Matt asked, hand suddenly on your shoulder. You jumped, letting out a small gasp. “Sorry. I tried calling a couple of times.”

“It’s fine,” you sighed, turning to wrap your arms around his middle, leaning into him, and pressing your face against his neck. “I just hate this.”

Matt huffed a laugh. “It can’t be so bad. You say that about every new thing you try.”

“But I really mean it this time!” you whined, though you actually didn’t.

You strived for perfection, but new recipes were always daunting. Either the first few batches didn’t meet your standards, or the very first one did, but the subsequent batches often failed. You thought once or twice about not adding anything new to your menu, but you needed to keep a refreshed list, or else you risked losing repeat customers—the ones who made this business possible for you in the first place.

“We can do it together,” Matt offered, lips brushing against the top of your head. “Will that make it better?”

You considered it for a moment. Matt’s taste was impeccable. You often used him—and Foggy and Karen—as guinea pigs, and he was always able to offer you the best advice. In another life, he would have been a fantastic chef. You’ve never baked anything with him before, only handed him the finished product.

If he helped you now, as you were putting everything together, it could make the whole try, try again process you had going significantly shorter, if not bypassed completely.

“Yes, actually. I think it will,” you answered, lifting your head up. 

The only problem: Matt was a complete and utter nuisance.

He wouldn’t do what you told him, at times completely forgoing your instructions—the one you found in an old cookbook that wasn’t like anything you found online—and adding either the incorrect amount of something or adding something that wasn’t even on the list of ingredients.

No matter how many times you told him baking was an exact science and the time for experimentation was after you followed the recipe to a T and tasted the finished product, he refused to listen. You thought he did, at first, but then you caught him tossing in almond extract behind your back, and things only went downhill from there.

“Would you please stop sticking your fingers in the bowl?” you practically begged after you caught him helping himself to the cookie batter for the fourth time.

“How else am I supposed to taste it?” he asked with a playful smirk. He seemed to enjoy the fact he was making you want to pull your hair out.

“With the spoon I specifically set out for that purpose!” You picked it up and thrust it at him. He ignored it and stuck his finger in his mouth.

“But I’m blind. How am I supposed to know where it is?” 

You raised an eyebrow, not fooled. “The same way you find the bowl even after I move it.”

Matt shrugged. “Fair point. But if I used the spoon, I couldn’t do this.” He stuck his finger in the bowl again.

“Matthew, I swear to—”

He stuck his finger in your mouth, not far but enough for the batter to touch your tongue, before he pulled away.

“—God,” you couldn’t help but finish as the first notes of the batter processed. Brow furrowed, you focused on the taste, brushing your tongue against the roof of your mouth, trying to make it last while you sorted out the different flavors. It was…

“That’s amazing,” you said, stunned. “What did you put in there?” You pulled the bowl toward you, forgetting the spoon in your hand as you dipped in a finger from the other. It wasn’t what you were trying to make at all, and you needed another sample.

“I tried telling you it just needed a few extra ingredients.” Before you could stick your finger in your mouth, Matt took your hand, wrapping his lips around your batter-covered finger. His tongue lapped gently against the pad, almost teasing. “Now it’s perfect,” he said when he pulled away.

“I think I need you in the kitchen more often,” you said, wheels already turning in your mind.

Matt beamed at you and tried leaning in for a kiss. You, however, didn’t notice and stepped away to find your phone, leaving him confused.

You opened your notes app and said, “Quick, tell me what you did before you forget.”

Matt could only shake his head in amusement before he dutifully listed everything he had snuck into the batter.

[the-gayngel]

i decided to do a tarot and pendulum reading about the potential spn reboot (with the supernatural tarot deck!) so if that's your kind of thing, check below the cut!

since i did the tarot reading first , i'll be discussing that first. i'll briefly explain how i drew my conclusions for each question, but if you have any other questions just let me know. also warning this will be a long post but please stick around especially for me adding the pendulum's results, exciting stuff came through with that!

tarot reading

question 1: side characters that may be on screen. because of the nature of this question i'm not really interpreting meanings of the cards (one exception), it's mostly just going with the characters on them

benny, adam/michael, meg, jess, and baby (this one made me giggle because of the car getting raptured jokes)

i asked for clarification on jess (it was kinda a curveball to me) and i got 7 of swords/blades in reverse which actually has ruby on it. the meaning of the card is basically stop lying to yourself. lowkey i think the show is gonna try to make sam and jess get back together in heaven, OR sam will have to face past relationships and make some sort of decision about who he's "meant" to be with. if they erase eileen (again) i will be upset LMAO

question 2: timeframe for an official announcement. using the actual card meanings for this (also the picture of these cards is with next question's)

the hermit in reverse and page of swords/blades. honestly i think it is in the veryyyy beginning stages of being planned so unfortunately there's not really an actual time estimate. but be on the lookout for little hints from actors, producers, etc

question 3: timeframe for it actually being on our screens. once again using actual card meaning

the wheel of fortune in reverse. momentum is stalled, stagnant; fearing change. so once again there is not really a current estimate of when this will happen but it will probably be longer than a lot of us want/expect it to be. for the fearing change part i think that's referring to the production process, possibly struggling to find the network and work out legal aspects, also maybe slightly scared to bring back the show because they're not sure how viewers will respond, but they will still go through with it

question 4: plot-wise, will it pick up where it left off and stay in heaven? will it rewrite pre established canon ending? using characters + card meanings

5 of cups/goblets (gadreel), 8 of pentacles/pentagrams (jo), 9 of swords/blades (alastair), 10 of wands/bones (cas), 8 of swords/blades (constance welch)

i think it will take place in heaven where we left off (sam and dean stay dead), but heaven/hell/earth will all end up being involved. what im leaning towards is some sort of infiltration of heaven; demon drama with all hands on deck (lots of fan favorites would likely come back for this). the 8 of swords meaning is feeling stuck/imprisoned so maybe the chuck won theory is actually true?? ultimately another Big Bad or cosmic event involving fixing/protecting the afterlife

question 5: will they make destiel fully canon with onscreen reciprocation? characters + card meanings

death (death, lol), page of pentacles/pentagrams (ghostfacers), the hierophant (billie), and queen of cups/goblets (ellen)

call me crazy but i think this is saying yes. ik this is silly but because ghostfacers came up it reminds me of the "gay love can pierce through the veil of death and save the day" quote especially with being between death and billie. also i think production sees destiel as a valuable business/economic opportunity now. despair/the deal will obviously be brought up. billie might be angry that cas killed her and some plot develops with that? ellen being here is a bit of a curveball but maybe she tells dean in heaven to get his shit together LMFAO but also the guidebook says "this tarot card is a reminder to be nurturing and compassionate with those you love" + cups being emotions and pentacles being stability, everything previously unsaid will finally be getting attention. think it'll definitely be A Journey to get to it; a lot of forces within context of the show and in real life still going against it though

look in reblogs for the pendulum results!