#I don’t think anyone would steal this for any particular reason

[snirtsnirkarts]

Doodle of Them!!!

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

tell me again that you hate me

a/n: i kinda just poured all of the filth ever into this one fic... you're welcome.

summary: “you know, I could help you. Pop that little cherry for you,” he shrugged as if he didn’t seem out of his mind for what he was brashly uttering, “you desperately need it, that fucking stick up your ass makes you such a bitch to be around. But no one is gonna wanna bang you, I mean, maybe you could be kinda hot if you weren’t such a fucking loser, if you didn’t dress like a fucking pogue, but I don’t think anyone would commit social suicide like that. So, I’ll take care of it. Fix that problem for the good of everyone else.” 

warnings: bully!stepbro!rafe cameron x virgin!reader, smut, dark content, dubcon/noncon, enemies to lovers, rafe is in college while reader is still in high school (everyone is over 18), blackmail, alcohol consumption, allusion to drug use, drunk driving, hidden cameras, panty stealing, references to somno, possessiveness, kissing, loss of virginity, size kink, belly bulge, pain kink, dirty talk, impact play, oral, pussyjob, just the tip, squirting, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, cumplay, no aftercare and not really any foreplay, public sex, rafe is mean and pervy and dark but it's all fun because it's just a silly fantasy

word count: 5153

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Your life had turned into a living nightmare.

You thought that when your high school bully graduated, you’d finally get rid of him. But little did you know what the future held in store, just who your own mother would decide to marry and what particular family you’d be forced to fuse with. 

Rafe Cameron had been the bane of your existence for years. Sure, when you’d first met him, you admittedly had a bit of a crush on him, but that was until he noticed you and truly showed you the notorious bully that he was. And now that he, the very person who had turned your teenage years into literal hell, had become your stepbrother, you couldn’t wait to get out of there, move halfway across the globe just to never see his face again. 

It also didn’t help matters that you got situated in the room right next to his, even had to share a Jack and Jill bathroom with him. 

Now what you didn’t know was how Rafe’s feelings truly were towards you. How he only started bullying you because you made him feel some type of way that no other chick did, but you came from the wrong side of the island, so getting those feelings out in the form of cruelty only seemed natural to a guy such as him. You had no idea that it was actually you whom he thought about every time he jerked off on the other side of that incredibly thin wall you shared, or even that his wicked fascination with you only seemed to grow now that you were a part of the family. 

The impatient knocks were no use, so swiftly you swung the door to Rafe’s bedroom open. He was nowhere in sight, but before you could turn around to search for him in another place, the light that his computer monitor blared out into the space caught your eye.

Your vision however grew wide as soon as you saw the taboo tab that was open. It was porn, but not just any porn. The open page was littered with rows and rows of graphic videos that all fell under the stepsister search he had typed in. 

Frozen in your stance, you wanted to sprint out of there, though at the same time, some part of you wanted to inch closer and snoop further. 

“What the fuck are you doing in my room?” a voice blared from behind you and caused you to jump.

Skittering away from the desk, you spotted the familiar buzzcut standing in the doorway. 

“I–, uh,” you swallowed and recalled the reason for your hunt, “my mom’s forcing me to go to that party at Topper’s tonight.”

“Okay, and?” he scoffed. 

“And so, because I don’t really do that sort of thing–”

“Because you’re a fucking loser who never gets invited.”

“Because I have better things to spend my Friday nights doing, your father wanted you to keep an eye on me and to make sure I got home safe.”

The only way you were gonna get through the night was if you got as wasted as possible.

Which is exactly what you ended up doing. 

When the clock chimed two, the raging headache you were developing from the blaring music convinced you to finally call it a night. You’d given it enough of a chance, enough experience to go home and state that partying simply wasn’t for you. 

But if you didn’t find the literal demon of a stepbrother and let him complete his end of the bargain, then maybe your mom wouldn’t believe you alone and force you to go to another. 

However, locating him turned out to be a much more difficult task than you’d thought. As you stumbled around the massive house, supporting your wobbly weight on the walls as you peeked into each of the rooms where some partygoers had migrated to, you soon dug your phone out of your jeans and dialled up his number. 

It was on the third attempted call that you finally stumbled into him. Sitting with a random blonde on his lap and the remnants of a mysterious white powder dusting the coffee table separating you from him. 

“There you are,” you grumbled, “I’ve been trying to call you!”

His expression turned sour as he noticed your presence, swiftly flipping his phone around as it layed on the table, though the caller ID that lit up the screen wasn’t of your name as your phone still buzzed in your palm to get through to him. Instead, it spelt out fleshlight in big bold letters. 

“So, you have,” he exhaled, “what do you want?” 

“I wanna go home,” you shoved your phone back in your pocket. 

“So, go home. What do you want my fucking permission? Are you that obsessed with me?”

“You have to take me home,” you reminded him, though when he began to laugh in your face, you shot back, “or you can just deal with your dad yourself when you get home. Your choice if you wanna keep being in his good graces or not.” 

That managed to shut him up. Though as he reluctantly pushed the blonde aside and got up from the couch, he muttered just loud enough for you to hear, “fucking prude,” like a curse on the wind just before he marched passed you and grabbed a hold of your arm to drag you with him. 

“Ow, Rafe, you’re hurting me!” you tried to tear yourself free of his grip. 

“Oh, shut up you baby, no I’m not. You wanna feel what does hurt?” his long fingers then dug further into your flesh and caused it to actually ache, “this.”

As he pushed open the front door, you whined, “ow, please stop,” but when he finally did, he only traded the grasp out with a light shove to your shoulder, directing you further towards his parked car. 

When you were planted in the passenger seat with your gaze firmly fixed out the window as the dark streets rolled by, you crossed your arms and mumbled, “I hate you…” gaining enough courage from the dizzying alcohol ravaging your system to utter it out loud. 

“What was that?” Rafe cast a glance in your direction.

Twisting your neck to glare back at him, you hesitantly repeated, “I hate you,” though the faint flicker of bravery you’d acquired was snuffed out as swiftly as it ignited when you saw the smirk that bloomed on your stepbrother’s features. 

“Aw, don’t tell me that, princess,” he chuckled, “you’ll just make me hard.” 

Eyes widening, they briefly fluttered down to the crotch of his trousers before you blinked away, a reaction that was evidently satisfying enough for Rafe to cause him to keep going. 

“But you probably wouldn’t know what to do with it anyway.”

“I know what to do,” you said defensively, though regretted your humouring him as soon as the words slipped out past your lips. 

“Oh yeah? Just how would you know that? Everyone knows you’re a fucking virgin,” something he was to blame for, though that wasn’t a fact you ever had to know. You didn’t have to be aware of just how many times he had stopped guys from asking you out, just because he wanted you all to himself, “but are you secretly a perv, sis? Is that how you think you know what to do?”

“Don’t call me that,” you cringed lightly. 

“What? A perv? Or sis? Don’t you wanna be reminded that you’re my stepsister?”

“Not particularly...”

As the car curved into the driveway to Tanny Hill, an offer suddenly rolled off Rafe’s tongue. 

“You know, I could help you. Pop that little cherry for you,” he shrugged as if he didn’t seem out of his mind for what he was brashly uttering, “you desperately need it, that fucking stick up your ass makes you such a bitch to be around. But no one is gonna wanna bang you, I mean, maybe you could be kinda hot if you weren’t such a fucking loser, if you didn’t dress like a fucking pogue, but I don’t think anyone would commit social suicide like that. So, I’ll take care of it. Fix that problem for the good of everyone else.” 

Your mouth hung agape as the vehicle rolled to a stop, the sudden shift made you fear that your latest drink would come up again. 

Utterly stunned, you couldn’t form a single word as you stared back at him. 

“I mean, it’s what you want, isn’t it?” he went on, turning in his seat to gaze over at you, already undressing you with his eyes, “haven’t you always had the hots for me?”

“I–…” it felt as if the car was swaying around even though it stood completely still, “…I drank way too much tonight, and I think you might have as well.”

“You’re drunk?” darkness glinted in his eyes, “well, I honestly don’t know if I should be impressed or run inside and wake everyone up so you can get grounded for fucking ever,” he laughed. 

“No!” you gasped, “You can’t tell them, please! I–…” you felt tears begin to sting the corners of your eyes and blur up your already hazy vision, “fuck!” 

Leaning even further back in his seat, he cocked his head, “I mean, I could also keep it a secret…” the tip of his tongue mischievously slipped out to poke his lip, “for the right price, that is.”

“Seriously?” you glared back at him, “are you serious right now?”

Capturing your hand, he swiftly brought it to the palpable tent in his pants, “do I not seem serious?” his eyes narrowed ever so slightly to a squint. 

Your lips parted in shock, stare flickering away from his eyes to spot how he ever so slightly pressed your palm down against him. 

He was so hard that you could nearly feel his pulse through the fabric of his trousers. 

“I mean, really I’d be helping you out,” your gaze stayed glued to how his broad hand engulfed your own a moment longer before you glanced up to find his unwavering stare once more, “so you should really thank me for both keeping your secret and doing you such a massive favour…”

As a shaky breath escaped your lungs, you whispered once more, “I hate you…”

But the proclamation only conjured a smile to appear on his lips, “tell me again,” and he leaned in a bit closer.

“I hate y–,” but you didn’t get the last bit out as Rafe then crashed his lips against yours.

It took a second for you to react with anything other than a surprised whimper, but when you did, it was slow and cautious compared to his boldness. 

A string of saliva strung you together as he eventually parted from you. Offering himself a small caress, he pressed your palm down against him one last time before he let you go. His breathing was heavy as he momentarily let his thumb trace your bottom lip, briefly slipping it crudely in your mouth, before uttering, “get inside.”  

Why, after all of this time, after all of the pain and torture he alone made you go through, why did he still have to give you butterflies the way that he did?

It was your room that he led you to, a hand ever rooted on you as you made the journey. At first, you thought it was because he saw the way you occasionally stumbled over your own feet, but perhaps it was just in case you wanted to make a run for it, just a precaution, a safety net already halfway over you. 

“Take your clothes off,” he commanded in a cold tone as he shut the door behind you. 

“W-what?” you turned to look back at him.

Sitting down on the edge of your bed, he repeated, “take your clothes off,” though they came out sounding slightly impatient. 

He palmed himself through his pants as you slowly began to strip. Though as you’d shyly peeled your t-shirt off and dropped it to the floor, his voice halted you just as you began to undo your jeans. 

“Stop,” his voice cut the thick air like a knife, “turn around when you pull those down,” you twisted away from him as your thumbs sank into either side of the waistband, “and do it slowly,” he made you put on a show, ogling as you gradually revealed the curve of your ass, “that’s it…” he nearly moaned as your pants crumbles to the floor, “bra and panties too, princess. Unless of course, you’re backing out of our deal already.”

Clenching your jaw, you squeezed your eyes shut and shed the rest, ignoring his soft wolf whistles and crude comments as you exposed yourself. 

Slowly turning back around to face him, your hands were clasped before you out of sheer timidness and not knowing what to do with them. 

“You gonna stand over there all night?” he raised his chin slightly.

When your feet stood rooted right before his seated position on the bed, your hands began to fiddle as he pulled his shirt over his head and caused your pulse to somehow beat even harder than it already did. 

One of his palms then scooped up your stomach and briefly grabbed one of your tits before scooping you closer, “come here,” and utilised his leverage to toss you down on the bed beside him, “let me get a good look at you.” 

Grabbing for the bedsheets as the mattress momentarily bounced beneath your spine, you blinked up at Rafe as he sat next to you, twisting his form and craning down to near your core. 

You tried to clamber your legs shut, embarrassed for what his cruel reaction might be, but he was not only faster, but stronger than you, and grabbed a hold of your thighs. As he split you apart, his lips curled up into a grin. 

“Look at you… fuck,” he let out a short chuckle, “this is gonna be fun.” 

A gasp curled out of your frame as he then grazed his thumb over your folds, smearing some of the mortifying wetness that seeped out and made you feel even more intoxicated than you already were. He lightly spread you apart and studied intently your dripping pussy, how it looked, how it glistened and how your little hole twitched when he lightly circled your clit. 

“Oh, you like this, don’t you?” he rubbed your puffy pearl with a mean lightness that caused your hips to buck slightly, “you like it when your big stepbrother touches you like this?” but when you didn’t reply, he reached down and grabbed your jaw, angling it for you to meet his eye, “answer me.”

“I–… y-yes,” you quietly admitted, feeling as if you were in some strange dream. 

“Of course you do, you dirty little girl,” he bent down again to gaze at your pussy a little too close for your taste, “I knew you were a slut since the moment I met you.”

Letting go of your face, he then snaked his free hand down to give himself an ounce of relief. 

“You know, part of me doesn’t even wanna prep you with my fingers first,” he smirked and let his fingertips sweep down to tickle your entrance, “I like the idea of not stretching you out first and letting my cock do all the work, let it feel just how tiny and pure you are for me.” 

“But isn’t that gonna hurt?” your breath caught in your throat. Sure, you’d played with yourself nearly till your hands fell off, but that idea still managed to scare you. 

“God, I hope so,” he groaned and briefly leaned down to press a hot kiss to your clit, sucking it into his mouth and sloppily making out with it. 

When he then stood up and pulled his pants down, your jaw nearly hit the floor as well when you saw how thick his dick was. Fat and veiny, curving proudly up towards his abs. 

Seizing your hips, Rafe yanked you closer to where he stood, nearly letting your ass dangle over the edge of the mattress.

“Wait,” you suddenly reached out to touch his forearm as he gave himself a few lavish strokes, staring down at your cunt, comparing the obscene size of him to your puff, “what about a condom?” you squeaked as he flicked his leaking tip down to tap your core. 

Sucking in a fierce breath through his nose, he glared down at you and shot back, “what about you shut the fuck up and just be grateful,” before he sent his open palm down to smack your pussy. 

“Ah! I’m sorry, I just–, fuck!” you shuttered beneath him as he soothed the slap with the nudge of his length, rubbing it against you and teasing your cunt before he started sweeping it through your folds, nearly fucking your soppy slit, the tip of him kissing your little pearl on each silky advance.  

A dollop of spit dropped from his lips and joined the mess he already tickled at between your parted legs. 

“It’s too big…” you murmured as you stared down at how his fat girth parted your pretty petals, though the observation only conjured a smile on Rafe’s lips, “maybe you could just put the tip in?” you tried through your foggy mind, “that would still count.”

A rumbling chuckle bubbled out of him as he stared down at the two of you together, “just the tip…” his movements then grew more erratic as he slid through your folds, “is that all you think your little virgin cunt can handle?” shy gasps escaped you every time he deliberately let his cock catch at your opening, “just the tip?” 

As he slowly pressed just the flush head of his length in to breach your entrance, your brows crinkled up at the mind-numbing stretch. 

“Like that, baby?” he only moved ever so slightly, “is that all you think you can handle?” and you nodded foggily in return. But as you let your eyes flutter shut and breathed through the staggeringly wonderful sensation, Rafe’s voice once again washed over you, “nah,” like a splash of cold water while you were licking up warm sun rays, “that’s not good enough. This is,” and he then slammed the entirety of his length into you.

Your eyes instantly shot back open and your legs curled up even further on either side of you at the shock. 

“What?” he cooed at you mockingly as he slowly dragged his dick back out for just the memory to remain, “does it hurt?”

You were a blubbering and cursing mess, trembling beneath him as your pussy tried to accommodate him.

“Come on, princess,” he bent down over you and let his nose ghost against yours, “tell me that it hurts.”

“It h-hurts,” you whimpered as his hot breath fanned across your blazing cheeks. 

It did sting, a lot, but though you hated to admit it, a part of you loved it, a part of you sank even further into the pit of pleasure he so slowly dunked you into. 

“Tell me that it’s too big for you,” he nuzzled his nose against yours as he plugged you back up. 

Your body shook beneath his every time he moved as much as a millimetre inside you, “i-it’s too big.” 

Letting out a low moan of satisfaction, he then leaned down to press his lips to yours, stealing your breath away even further. 

You tried, but couldn’t really focus on kissing him back, not that he seemed to mind much as he moaned into your mouth, soon letting his sloppy kisses dance over your cheek and down your neck, letting hickeys bloom in his wake and mark up your skin like a brand.

As he sucked down on the spot where your pulse went wild beneath the skin, his hips drove against yours harder, causing them to collide in a sticky smack, as well as letting the tip of him bully the deepest part of you. He didn’t just do it once, but kept it up as he enjoyed the little squeaks you let out every time he bumped against your cervix. 

Kissing his way back up to your lips, he only offered them the briefest of pecks before raising himself off of you, just ever so slightly, and one by one, grabbed your already wide-spread legs and rested each one of them onto his broad shoulders, efficiently folding you in half. 

“H-holy shit,” you panted as the mattress rippled beneath you at every one of his rough thrusts, “Rafe–”

“Yeah?” he smirked down at your melted form, the vein in his forehead popping from the strain, “are you gonna cum? Are you gonna cum on your big bro’s dick?” one of his hands swept up to squeeze your tit, then gave it a swift tap before growling, “come on, princess. I can feel you squeezing me so fucking tight. Do it, I fucking dare you. Be a good girl and cum on my cock.”

You almost screamed as you tumbled over the edge, your head curling to the side to hide yourself in the crumbled duvet beneath you as your pussy gushed all over his fat girth. 

“Oh, fuck,” Rafe croaked as he straightened back up to get a good view. Pulling out of you, he briefly flicked his dick through your folds to urge more of your nectar to leak out, before he slid it back inside and asked in amazement, “you ever squirted before?” 

Trembling from the overstimulation, your eyes rolled in your skull as you shakily mumbled, “maybe twice, I think.”

“Such a good fucking slut,” he growled proudly, “squirting all over me like a proper whore. Just look at you,” his grip dented your thighs as he pressed them further down against the bed, “you’re already a pretty little cockdrunk mess.”

“I–, I–,” you blubbered as you felt drool begin to trickle down your cheek. 

“Oh, fuck,” he then groaned, glancing down at where he split you apart, “hold your legs back,” he requested, though had to help your sluggish hands find their way, “look at this, baby,” he scooped a palm behind your head and ushered you to spot what he had noticed. Splaying a wide hand over the lower part of your stomach, he traced the faint bulge that rhythmically appeared, “sure as fuck not a virgin anymore, are you? Fucking ruining that perfect little pussy of yours. Now that’s how you pop a fucking cherry. Aren’t you happy I was in such a charitable mood tonight?” he then pressed down on the imprint rudely, the overwhelming sensation causing your pussy to drizzle a little more around him, “aren’t you, sis?”

“Yes,” you mewled, feeling as if you were floating on a cloud and not getting your guts rearranged. 

“You’d let me do anything I’d fucking want, wouldn’t you?” he smirked down at your dazed form. 

“Y-yes,” the word flowed out of you, though you couldn’t quite comprehend all of his dirty talk any longer. 

“Hold on,” he briefly slowed down and stretched over to reach a small apprentice obscured and hidden in all of the cluttered decor on your nearby dresser. Turning it in his hand, he pointed the discrete camera down to film you, “say it again,” he picked his pace back up, “tell me that you’ll let me do anything I want to you.”

“Anything,” the words bubbled out through your moans, “anything you want.” 

“Say that you’re my little slut.”

“I’m yours–, I-I’m your s-slut.”

Tilting the hidden camera down to get a few close-ups, his voice then seeped into you once more, “now tell me again that you hate me.” 

One of your hands fluttered down and began to rub your puffy clit.

“I hate you.”

“Again,” he reached down to give your left nipple a harsh pinch.

“I hate you.”

“Keep going, princess.” 

And the more times the phrase flowed out past your lips, the more it began to lose its meaning and morph into just another sound, one that was almost akin to the complete opposite kind of proclamation. 

Just like you barely noticed when Rafe dug out the hidden camera, so too did you miss it when he put it back down, obscured somewhere among your things, possibly not even the only one. 

When you came once again, Rafe didn’t so much as pause when you creamed around his cock and drenched the sheets beneath you that much further.

“There you fucking go,” he sent a palm down to smack the sensitive skin on your inner thigh, “god, you’re so hot. I can’t believe you actually let me do this,” he grinned as your fingers stretched out to graze his wild hips, trying and failing to slow him down, “you’re such a little freak,” he glanced down at the ring of your essence that marked the base of his throbbing cock, “so fucking nasty for your stepbrother. I bet you’d even let me keep using you after you fall asleep. I mean, who’s to say I haven’t already,” he chuckled, “you’re so fucking cute when you sleep. No annoying remarks, no dumb comments… I think I might prefer you that way…” his slamming grew sloppy as he soon moaned, “fuck, I’m gonna fucking cum.”

“Pull out,” you begged through your hazy pants. 

And just when you thought he wouldn’t respect your wishes, he yanked out and furiously stroked himself before your winking and wrecked hole as it slowly retraced from the severe stretch. Moaning loudly, he swiftly painted your pussy with his load, getting it all over your puffy petals till he was panting above you. One hand rested on your thigh as he brushed the sensitive head of his cock over the cream, messily tapping the hefty weight of him against your aching clit and making you jump a few times as he smeared it in. 

Throwing himself down on the bed beside you, he let out a long sigh and said, “you’re welcome.”

You felt like you couldn’t move, like you might never be able to move again. Your breath still came in ragged as the only thing you could focus on was the sore throbbing centred at your core, that blossomed out through the rest of your nerves. 

“Well,” Rafe huffed as he soon lifted himself up to a sitting position, “night,” and without another word, slipped out through your shared bathroom into his own bedroom. 

“I can’t believe they made you take me,” you grumbled as you watched Rafe shadow you in the clothing store, “I could have just gone to the mall on my own.”

“You don’t have a car though–, also, why are you the one complaining? I’m the one being forced to go fucking shopping with you of all people.”

Somehow, for some mysterious reason, since you’d moved into Tanny Hill, your collection of underwear had shrivelled down till you barely had enough to get you through the week. Guess that was the price you had to pay for letting someone else do your laundry, though you’d always assumed it would more just be a single sock that commonly vanished in the wash…

When you dipped into the fitting room to try a few of the gathered options on, you only managed to test out two of them before the curtain slid back open and you swiftly scrambled to cover yourself.

“Rafe!” you let out a hushed screech, “what do you think you’re–”

“Try these on,” he handed you a wide stack of hangers. It wasn’t just underwear dangling from them, but also some clothing, though all of it way too revealing than you were used to. 

Glancing down at them, you refused to grasp the items and simply stated in a clear tone, “no.” 

Letting out a low sigh, he then turned to close the curtain back up before he twisted back to face you, “do you need me to have a little talk with your mom and my dad?” he took a few steps towards you, slowly pushing you into the corner by the tall mirror.

Glaring back at him through your pout, you huffed, “no…” 

You stayed in the corner as he then hung the clothing up on the hooks before taking a seat on the small stool where your purse was resting before he swept it to the floor. 

“Are you just gonna sit there and watch?”

“Yeah,” he scoffed, “it’s boring as shit out there. At least in here, I might get a moderate amount of entertainment.”

Rolling your eyes, you reluctantly began to try the attire on. 

“I hate thongs,” you muttered as you tugged a pair into place over your hip, trying not to catch your stepbrother’s stare as his gaze wandered from your reflection to the perfect view he had of your backside. 

“I recall you hate a lot of things you still don’t hesitate to jump on.”

“Whatever,” you sighed, “you have your fun, enjoy this little fashion show, but I’m sure as hell not getting any of these.”

“Well, good,” he uttered demeaningly, “because I’m buying them for you.”

Catching his eye in the mirror, you told him, “I’m still not wearing them. You can’t make me.” 

“Yeah,” he puffed out a smirk, “we’ll see about that,” and then tore his gaze away from you to gesture to one of the hangers, “try that dress on, but keep the pink thong on underneath, only the thong though.” 

You had to shut your eyes in annoyance a moment before you fulfilled his request, soon standing before him in a scantily cut, pastel mini dress, crafted in a fabric so thin that you could see the faint shadow of your nipples poking through them, especially after they’d turned all pebbly after Rafe had torn that privacy curtain to the side. 

“You happy now?” you turned to face him and propped your hands on either side of your hips. 

“Hm,” he cockily pursed his lips as his gaze studied you, “I was right…”

Your brows stayed furrowed till you watched his palm slide down to squeeze himself through his shorts. 

“What are you doing?” you hissed, eyes growing wide. 

“You do look hot in normal clothes.”

“I don’t think any of this is normal…”

“I think it’s time you learned how to suck a cock,” he suddenly announced, eyes still glued to the dress’ low neckline as he unzipped his slacks. 

“Rafe…” you breathed. 

His eyes flickered up to find yours, “get on your knees,” he tilted his head, “come on, princess. You’ll love it, trust me.” 

© 2024 thyme-in-a-bubble 

[cursedcatchild]

Ok, so I watched TOTTMNT and I am here to rant. Also, SPOILERS ahead!

So First of all, if I had to sum up my thoughts into a single sentence it would be: For the love of God, put those turtles back together, where they belong!!

I didn’t hate the show, but I didn’t come to like it either. And no, I did not have any prejudgment just because it was a new iteration. Honestly I was super hyped for this version, because the movie was a blast. Yea, I ended up being disappointed. But let me just elaborate on that:

First let’s take a look at our turtles from worst to best in my opinion.

Mikey:

Yepp, ladies and gentlemen so far I have never seen a single iteration where I didn’t come to like a Mikey. He’s always among my favs. But this version felt super shallow. He had just as much screen time in the series as his brothers and yet I still have no idea who this guy really is. His jokes were lame not really landing, I couldn’t really point out any particular goal or insecurity that anyone could relate to. Also, the guy is super oblivious. Like he took ten minutes to realize he walked into a robbery when he went for groceries. Heck he was having a casual conversation with the robbers. 

Leo: 

Another kinda shallow guy. Sure we seen a bit of insecurity, he literally quoted Rise Leo saying “ I’m nothing without them!” but it felt irreal. Because Rise Leo had a reason to think that, he wasn’t as much of a functional member of the team and he was always taken for jokes. But right from the beginning of TOTTMNT we see Tales Leo commanding his brothers, they listen to him  and even say it multiple times how planning is Leo’s thing. So at this point this Leo is just fucking blind. ( Also April slaps instant self confidence into the boy.) 

Raph:

Ok, this is also the first time, but I never really took a liking to a Raph before Tales Raph. Boy is filled with anger and sass, yet he’s not coming off as a total jerk like 2012 Raph. And of course he's not a super softie like Rise Raph ( I don’t hate Rise Raph for being a softie, he's my second favorite Raph) either. He had some fun pipe up and overall a personality I got. I think he’s the most perfect Raph I have ever seen. 

Donnie:

The best character of the iteration in my humble opinion. He was relatable, funny, honestly he was stealing Mikey’s job as the comic relief, but at the same time he’s the smart guy. The boy is ranting about not being the IT guy and then goes reprogramming an evil robot. Oh and he saved so many lifes, because he stopped a fucking train crash. He’s epic, I swear.

(My fave screenshot ever 🤣🤣)

Now story wise:

🔥What the fuck was this dumpster fire?! 🔥Who thought splitting up the turtles would be fine?! 😑Especially in a 12 episode season? Look, I don't mind solo or duo time. There were plenty of good ones, for example Rise. I adored the Mikey vs Leo cook off episode or the Gumbus one, but for the sake of my sanity Rise had twice as many episodes and the turtles were not split up for the majority of the story.

Like I'm not joking when I say they were together in 4 episodes intotal.😨😨

Now I heard rumors left and right that the fact that they need to make a show was thrown at the team at the last minute ( IDK how true is that) , but goodness gracious even if I was presented with the task with a “ Due tomorrow label” I could still write a better story. Especially with the goldmine what the writers decided to ignore.

Yes, something that would've made TOTTMNT be really unique….. School people! We were promised that we will explore the turtles from the teenage side. Ummm….Hate to break it to ya all but I think there is no better way to do that than putting them into school.

It would’ve been fire to see them trying to fit in, balancing all the cool hero stuff with school life, maybe wrecking the school, seeing how other teenangers adjust to the fact that now giant talking turtles are their classmates. It wouldn’t be some crazy mind blowing plot, but I swear it would've been amazing.

Now don’t misunderstand me. Despite the story feeling like being all over the place it wasn’t that super bad, but I’m pissed that it could've been better with ease.

Also another thing that bugged me, is the feeling of something missing. IDK if anyone else who watched it felt like this, but I legit felt like if we just grabbed the for example farm arc from 2012 TMNT and aired it as season 1. The fact that the turtles were split and they kept mentioning that they have always been fighting together made me feel like I should’ve seen them do that.

Anyways, If I did not take your will to watch it away, go and check it out. It's not horrible but not great either. I’m disappointed and I'm gonna need Rise back, thank you very much!

[fatuismooches]

synopsis: The first to betray him was his creator, his mother. The second was his family, his friend. The third was a child similar to him. Would you, his lover, be the fourth?

includes: scaramouche w/ gn! reader

notes: An uncompleted fic I wrote in October before Scaramouche's release. Therefore it is not very accurate, especially the part where he likes sweets. I don't think I'll finish it, so I decided to post my ramblings here for your entertainment. (Some places won't make sense... I jumped around a lot, by the way.)

Imagine being eternal lovers with Scaramouche.

You can’t remember the exact date when you first encountered the man, who was the definition of beauty. How many centuries ago was that again? Two? Three? Nevermind that. After all, the one thing you’d never forget was the first memory you made with him.

You placed the sweet treats on your table, ready for your delicious snack. But you know what? You needed something to drink too. Perhaps you’d try some of that Dango Milk you saw, from that guy whose stall never got any business since everyone was so skeptical of it. Dango with dango would surely be an interesting combination. And so you set out to quickly purchase some, not bothering to lock your doors. You would only be gone for five to ten minutes, after all.

What you did not expect, however, was that when you returned, your front door was wide open. Hesitantly climbing up the steps very slowly, you were greeted by an unknown man’s presence inside your house, munching away at your damn dango. It took a few seconds to process - someone went broke into your house to eat your food. And it occurred to you - out of anything he could steal, he chose to steal sweets. Not the stash of Mora you had hidden away, or some vases, or anything that actually had monetary value. He chose the Tricolor Dango lying on your kitchen table, half of it already eaten. If you weren’t so scared of some guy breaking into your house, you would have thought it was cute. (Little did he know, his own tastes reflected that of his creator.)

Wait, you shouldn’t be trying to analyze him, he was literally in your house uninvited! You needed to get the Tenryou Commission or something! And so you stepped back, but of course, the dreaded very loud creak of that one particular floorboard echoed throughout the house, and the man immediately noticed you. You were busted. (Or was he? Later you would learn this was far more embarrassing for him than for you.)

Gorgeous, long indigo hair flowed down, coupled with matching eyes and porcelain skin. Up close, he looked so beautiful that it almost didn’t feel humanly possible.

“Don’t even think of saying a word of this to anyone,” he hissed out threateningly, “or else.” You let out a muffled “okay” and furiously nodded your head, not wanting to know what the ‘or else’ entailed. Then he released his hand from your mouth, quickly slammed the door shut, and left. By the time you could regain your composure and look out the window, the doll-like man was already gone.

All that remained of the encounter were the empty sticks that held dango before on your table.

—

A good amount of time had passed since that situation. You went about your life, working, eating, sleeping, shopping. But for some reason, you could not get the intruder out of your mind. You had so many questions about him. Maybe it was because your life was too boring and although he had scared you, you were quite interested in him. How’d he know your door was unlocked? Maybe he was following you? What kind of financial situation did he have if he had to steal dango from you?! And for his stunning looks, his mouth was quite… foul. As these thoughts continued to plague your mind, there was only one thing to do.

Attempt to make him come back, of course. Now, you did not have the means to just go out and look for him, nor could you ask around for information about him. So you did the only thing you could do was lure him out. With dango, of course, since that was the only piece of information you had about him.

Every evening, you would wait on the porch with a plate of various types of dango on it next to you. Of course, he didn’t show up, but you didn’t have anything better to do. And so, your nightly activities quickly changed to drinking a cup of tea while reading on your porch, as you awaited the mysterious man’s presence. 

Unfortunately, after a week or two, the only thing you were successful in was gaining weight from all of the sweets you had to eat after he didn’t show up, your wallet consequently being drained, and powering through the strange but appreciative looks the vendor gave you when you came back every day to purchase new sweets.

It was another day of executing your very poorly thought-out plan, and you began to grow rather sleepy. You were practically messing up your sleep schedule for some random guy. That was just… embarrassing, you thought, but you couldn’t help it. Leaning your body against a pillar of the porch, you closed your eyes, allowing your mind to go wild with fantasies. Perhaps you could experience one of those forbidden romance novel plots like from Yae Publishing House with this stranger… ah, how marvelous that would be…

Your breathing began to slow, and your thoughts became less coherent. You were on the verge of falling asleep, but you could hear some noise, even though it was fuzzy in your current state. But no matter, it was probably just some squirrels. But then you heard it much louder, coming much closer to you by the second. It was the familiar crunch of the leaves that had fallen around your house that had made you jump back to life.

And there he was, long silky hair flowing behind him, unscarred skin, soft lips, and pretty eyes, though his resemblance of eternal beauty disappeared when he noticed you were not sleeping, wide awake in fact.

Of course, you sprang to your feet almost immediately, not about to let this opportunity after weeks of waiting slip away.

“Hey! Don’t go this time! I have… more dango! For you!” You must have looked pretty pathetic to be convincing a criminal to stay with sweets of all things, but you gave up your dignity when you started with this plan.

“… Were you trying to make me come back with this simple-minded idea? Idiot.” It seemed like he only liked to open his mouth when he was able to insult you. (But you also thought that he was trying to play off his embarrassment.)

“Well, it worked, did it not? Seems like you’re the idiot because you actually came again, and had to wait until I was asleep. Were you scared of me?” you sassed back. By the look on his face, it seemed like you annoyed him.

“Watch it,” he snapped. “I could make you very scared of me right now.”

You didn’t doubt that so you quickly shut your mouth and rubbed the sleep out of your eyes. “W-well, you should come get what you came for,” gesturing towards the dango. But he didn’t move, to your displeasure. Was it too close to you, perhaps? And so you pushed the plate as far away to the other side as possible, and at last, he walked forward to grab it. He picked up a stick of dango and scrutinized it, as if it was possible you poisoned him or something. But it appeared to pass his inspection test, as he began to munch on it.

“I was hoping you’d give up soon.” You perked up at his words. Finally an opportunity for conversation. 

“After everything I’ve invested into this, I couldn’t,” you sighed. “And this means you were watching me, weren’t you?!”

His hair bounced as he shrugged his shoulders, taking a bite of the dango. “I had to make sure you didn’t tell anyone about me,” he said nonchalantly as if watching someone’s every move was normal. You decided to hold your tongue - you and your wallet worked hard for this after all. Some time passed, and you licked your lips, preparing yourself to ask your first question.

“So… what is your name, wanderer?”

The man merely shrugged as he continued to eat the dango. You began to wonder if that was the only thing he consumed. What kind of diet did he have, and how did he only survive on dango? But anyways, you weren’t sure if he didn’t want to tell you his name (which was highly likely) or rather there was another circumstance preventing him from doing so.

“Do you have a name?”

The eccentric individual paused for a brief moment, but that was all you needed to know. “Wait here,” you said, getting up to enter your house. You entered your room and looked under your bed, reaching for a huge encyclopedia. You cursed as you heaved it up, it was quite long. You shoved some other books inside that might be helpful, and carried them outside to the stranger.

“Shit,” you mumbled, practically dropping the books down on the porch. You were an average citizen, well, probably frailer than a normal person so carrying all these books felt like too big of a strain. At this point, the man was eyeing you suspiciously (and almost in annoyance?) but you pushed the books over to his side anyway.

“These,” you panted, “could help you find a name. Any name. Anything you like. You should choose it yourself,” you reasoned. “I can’t keep calling you stranger, you know” you tried to make a joke but immediately regretted it at his flat and almost unamused expression. You don’t think he is very friendly. But nonetheless, his eyes flickered down to the various assortment of books, and you could see a brief glimpse of… sadness? It disappeared as quickly as it came, but he very hesitantly sat down, reached for the pile, and began flipping through the pages. You let out a breath of relief you didn’t know you were holding.

You didn’t know how much time passed, as the golden and orange hues of the sunset gradually vanished, replaced with the glow of the moon and stars. You were worried about if he could still see the text, but he was going through it with ease. He must have good eyesight. You didn’t want him to snap at you for staring at him again, so you looked up and counted the stars instead.

“Kunikuzushi.”

It took you a second to realize that he finally spoke. All of your energy returned as you sat up straight. “What?”

“Kunikuzushi. That is my name,” he repeated.

“Kunikuzushi…” you repeated. If you weren’t mistaken, that meant something along the lines of “country destroyer.” It certainly wasn’t a common name, and you were slightly worried about what country he wanted to destroy, but it was unique. It suited this eccentric stranger.

“Alright,” you smiled. “It’s nice to meet you, Kunikuzushi.” 

—

Ever since you helped him choose his name, you made it a habit to continue to leave a plate of dango outside your house. Sometimes he would appear and eat with you, sitting all the way on the other edge of the porch. Other times, he wouldn’t show up while you were outside, but when you woke up in the morning, the dango was gone. Although you were still failing to make good conversation with him, his repeated visits satisfied you for now. It felt nice to have a new person in your life. Until one day, he came to you during the night, right before you were about to retire to your bed for the day.

“Where is it?”

You sighed. “Good night to you too, Kuni. To what do I owe this pleasure?”

Kunikuzushi rolled his eyes and scowled. “It’s Kunikuzushi,” he emphasized. “Not that… nonsense.”

“Mhm, totally understand. I’ll stop calling you that, Ku,” you teased.

“You're an exasperating human,” he glared. “Anyway, where is my plate?” His plate? Oh, he was talking about how you didn’t leave out any dango tonight.

“Well, I got out late from work and by the time I went to the stall, it was already closed for the day. So, you’ll just have to survive without any today. Sorry, Kuni.” You were tempted to make fun of him but the look on his face made you feel kind of bad. He sucked his teeth and actually looked kind of annoyed, and was positioned to leave. And then you came up with a solution.

“Hey, don’t go. Come inside, I have an idea,” you said, opening your door wider.

Kunikuzushi squinted his eyes suspiciously at you. “Why?”

“Oh, stop acting as if I’m gonna kill you or something. Just get in here!” You turned your back and headed towards your kitchen, and a few seconds later you heard your door slam shut. You were delighted to have Kuni back in your house.

You retrieved a cookbook and looked over the ingredients for Tri-Color Dango. Glutinous rice flour, tofu, sugar, milk… sakura blooms, and snapdragons for the coloring. And some green tea would go well with it. Good thing you had all of the essential ingredients.

“I’m just going to make you the dango from scratch, so you can sit down and wait.”

“You can do that?”

“Of course,” you laughed. “Buying it is just more convenient and less work for me. Would you like to watch me, Kunikuzushi?”

He couldn’t deny that he was interested, and so he silently pulled a chair and sat at your kitchen table, earning a cheeky grin from you.

You smiled, (insert process on making dango)

“You can’t eat it yet!” you said, quickly stopping him from biting it. “We need to cook it first!” He looked disappointed.

“Just follow me,” you hummed as you began sticking the dango through the bamboo skewer. He looked over and started doing the same with ease. Huh. He was pretty good at it.

“Of course. Most foods taste better homemade.”

You don’t know why, but after that experience, Kunikuzushi started to knock on your door a lot more often, to the point you saw him almost every day. His time of arrival varied, but nonetheless, he became a familiar face you welcomed. To be honest, you had no idea what to do with him at first. He still did not divulge anything about himself, and rather looked at you expectantly. So you decided to teach him things, as you had a feeling he wasn’t good at traditional basic tasks.

You tried to teach him how to sew and crochet. Kunikuzushi ended up pricking his finger multiple times and the string of curses that followed was endless. When he joined you to plant flowers and vegetables, he grew frustrated when the things he planted didn’t grow, when he accidentally placed too much pressure on the seeds, and kept messing up the correct amount of water. Anything that required great care and gentleness, he did not succeed in. 

So you told him about the ancient Irodori Festival, about beloved Inazuman folklore, about your favorite childhood stories, to which he scoffed and rolled his eyes, calling out some of the dumb choices by the protagonists, but always listening to you with full attention. Admittedly, you were guilty of accidentally teaching him some of your favorite combinations of curses.

You introduced him to more of your favorite sweets (with him sitting at the table watching you, it was the best option.) Despite his clear fondness for sweets, he vehemently denied it and didn’t have an aptitude for making them at all. Every time Kuni tried to bake something with you, he poured the incorrect amount causing the excess to slip, or turned the heat up too high or too low, scowling at every failure. He didn’t seem to have much of an appetite for other meals, which confused you. Didn’t he have to eat something else to survive? But he always seemed perfectly fine, in better health than you. You decided not to question it further.

But when Kuni followed you around while shopping, if any of the sellers tried to scam you or raise the price a little too high, he would quickly lash out a string of things you’d rather not repeat. And while you profusely apologized for his behavior, you were secretly grateful because it helped you out a lot. When you struggled to hold the grocery bags, he would snatch them from you, complaints following but none had any real bite to them when compared to his actions. Despite his lean stature, he was surprisingly strong.

The more time you spent with him, the more you grew to like him. You had realized that since your first encounter, Kuni had started to show more emotion, as if he was repressing it in the beginning. You had no idea why he hung around you of all people; Kunikuzushi had no obligation to, much less help you with random tasks. It was as if he had nowhere else to go, to return to. But you didn’t want to question him, in fear he’d leave you for prying.

—

Your new pastime with Kunikuzushi involved explaining and taking him around Inazuma to partake in “useless human frivolities.” (You were confused as to though he referred to things as if they didn’t include him, but whenever you brought this up, he just scoffed and ignored you.) But one place he vehemently refused to go was the shrine.

“I don’t want to go there.” The firmness of his statement caught you off guard.

“To the shrine? Is there any particular reason why?”

You could already tell by the look on his face that he would not be responding. Perhaps he did not like the Gods. “Well, that’s okay. It’s not my favorite place either.” And that was the end of it. It was the same thing when you went anywhere near the Electro Archon’s Tenshukaku. He would tense up, grit his teeth, and drag you to the other direction. You wished to know why he loathed the Gods, but you still did not know anything about his past. Maybe one day he’ll open up.

Whenever you ushered Kunikuzushi into your house when it was raining, in fear that he’d get sick, he always replied that he wouldn’t, and he didn’t. He defeated hilichurls and monsters easily with electro powers, despite not having a Vision. How he frequently referred to you as human. It was all starting to make a lot more sense.

(I was going to write a scene about you two falling in love here.)

When Scaramouche was on the other side of the nation, the recipes you gave to him of the meals you made before for him gave him some peace. It didn’t taste nearly as good as when you made it. He wondered if it was due to his skills, or rather because he didn’t have you to share it with.

(I had planned that after Scara left to go to the Fatui, he comes back to find you missing. Later he finds you but you were experimented on in a hidden lab, somehow causing your lifespan to increase, hence the eternal lovers part. The experimentation left you really weak which is why he was scared you were going to die and leave him.)

He placed his hat to the side and sat down next to your bed, gazing at your sleeping figure. You were so frail and powerless, like a typical human. Yet he found himself coming back every time. But now as he looks at you, a familiar, disgusting feeling forms in the pit of his stomach again.

The first to betray him was his creator, his mother. The second was his family, his friend. The third was a child similar to him. Would you, his lover, be the fourth?

You couldn’t leave him. You just can’t. Without you, the fury he desperately tries to quell will surely swallow him whole. You had to come and weasel your way into his life despite his persistence in hating humans. If he never saw your eyes peer at him curiously when he told stories of the outside world, if you never laughed again while he insulted his co-workers, he would… he would never forgive you.

Or rather, Scaramouche suddenly thought, had he betrayed you instead? He had promised himself many years ago, to always protect you. Yet he failed. And now you were in this state because of his weakness.

The Harbinger balled his hands into fists so tightly, he threatened to draw blood. And he would have, if he didn’t notice you twitch and sleepily mumble. He drew his attention to you and unballed his hands to gently hold yours.

Scaramouche, or rather Kunikuzushi, rested his head on the soft sheets, squeezing your hand. You would wake up, he knew you would… you never let him down, unlike anyone else… This was a moment that no one else would ever know about.

But the moment of eternity peace was broken by a knock on her door. Immediately, Scaramouche shot up and put his hat back on, needing to get back into character.

“Come in.”

One of the agents appeared, looking terrified for his life as usual. He licked his lips, trying to find the words to talk, but failed.

“Spit it out already,” Scaramouche scowled, annoyed at the intrusion.

“Lord Harbinger I- well, I t-think it would be easier for you to read this yourself. It was found in the lab."

(This was supposed to be the ending of the fic...)

You were there for him. When he was just Kunikuzushi, when he was Scaramouche. When he was a Harbinger, when he wasn’t. When he tried to find a heart with the Electro Archon’s gnosis, and the aftermath of his tears, reassuring him that he was more than enough for you, that your heart was his.

You would belong to each other for eternity.

(The way Scaramouche canonically hates sweets singlehandedly ruined the plot of this fic💀)

[bestworstcase]

i do think it’s thematically important that the maidens are inherited in this specific way, it’s not an accident that when the narrative sets down the rules the potential violence is not just remarked upon but given emphasis and used explicitly as justification for the aura transfer machines. nearly everything ozpin does is rooted in keeping the maidens within his control—selecting candidates in anticipation of their deaths, giving the branwens bird forms to identify maidens when the line of inheritance jumps the tracks, chaining the maidens to these vaults, etc—and his greatest adversary in this endeavor is the maidens themselves, because the magic preferentially selecting maiden-killers is, in effect, the magic fighting against this control.

why does the magic transfer itself like this? it will not be controlled. throughout the years ozma and his allies have devoted enormous effort to dictating the Final Thoughts of anyone who receives this power in order to maintain control over it (& their abject failure in this regard leads to the invention of the aura transfer machines); meanwhile the magic binds itself to "random" heirs if the candidate its host has in mind is unsuitable, and prefers to go to ozma’s enemies when it can.

(and do mark that. the person in the maiden’s Final Thoughts is explicitly only a suggestion, one the magic can and will disregard if he or she is unsuitable. ozpin et al believe that these candidates are only rejected if they are 1. male or 2. too old, but none of them can read minds; and as ozpin says, maidens choose themselves. it’s just as likely that there are additional disqualifying criteria, such as the candidate being coerced or just not being spiritually compatible. there’s no reason to think that KILLING A MAIDEN couldn’t be a disqualifying act if the magic were unwilling.)

of note in this regard is that cinder breaks amber’s aura (orange) before using the beetle to draw out the magic (golden):

which matters because the magic is attached to aura and separates at the moment of death; as i said in the last post, the grimm beetle is successful because it respects the magic’s own rules. cinder breaks the outward projection of amber’s soul and then shoots her in the back (symbolically, killing her) and then claims the magic as she begins to die. had she walked up and slit amber’s throat here instead, she would have almost certainly inherited all of the magic too. the grimm beetle thumbs the scales a bit but in the context of the magic’s rules, it’s playing ball.

whereas:

when cinder uses her arm to drain raven’s/penny’s auras, she doesn’t gain any portion of the spring/winter maiden’s magic, nor do either of them suffer lasting harm in the vein of amber (coma) or pietro (holes burned through his aura).

so there’s nothing special about grimm that allows them to violate the magical rules. all evidence suggests that the ATMs don’t work for this purpose either: as soon as amber dies, the magic rips free, and cinder’s grimm arm can harvest aura but not magic. it follows that in the event of a complete aura transfer, the magic would detach from the donor aura as soon as the donor died, leaving the recipient with two souls and no magic. there is a degree of wiggle room (under particular circumstances you can convince the magic to begin separating before the previous maiden is fully dead) but you can’t outright cheat.

which is the whole point. you can’t take a maiden’s magic without killing her and you can’t circumvent the maiden’s agency by stealing the soul of its host. the maidens are unbound by death. and i think there’s a literal causal relationship between how ozma treats the maidens and how they choose their hosts—he can’t use them as weapons without losing them, or outright delivering this magic into salem’s hands. nor can he hoard them or hide them away forever because he can’t dictate their final thoughts.

[7thleveldown]

Star Wars?

So.... I wrote a thing....

It is neither good, nor really properly finished to my satisfaction, but... I dunno, I don't have a good excuse.....

“That little bastard. I’m going to kill him!”

Stiles yelling was not an unknown occurrence in the Stilinski household, but for him to be heard before Noah walked in the door was, in his opinion, unnecessary.

“Scott, do I even want to know?”

“Stiles can't find something. He blames-”

“Isaac. I heard. So did most of the street. Any particular reason for him taking the blame?”

“Nope.” The monosyllabic answer from Derek made Noah think of earlier times, when there was distinctly more glaring. Although, the look on his face right now…

“Scott, do you want to tell me what is actually going on?” Noah leaned on the back of the sofa Derek was sitting on, not breaking eye contact with Scott.

“I don’t know what you mean… sir….”

“Scott.” Noah felt the need to rub his forehead against the headache that was beginning to build. “Scott you haven’t called me sir, I think… ever. What have you done?”

“Nothing! Nothing…bad?” Scott was wincing, but before he could continue, another voice was being heard, as its owner stomped down the stairs.

“..and why does anyone have to be that fucking tall? It’s unacceptable. Thinking he can come in here and mess with my stuff, he is going to be so sorry, him and his precious scarves - oh, Dad, hey…”

“Everything okay, son?”

“No, unsurprisingly, no it’s not. I need to report a theft. We’ve been burgled. And I know who the culprit is, so if you can go arrest him, I would be grateful. Teach him to steal my stuff, little miscreant…”

“Do we have any actual, you know, proof?”

“Well, no, but I know it was him, it always is, and he knows what this means to me, and he knew about tonight, and… He’s done it on purpose!”

“Stiles can’t find his Star Wars DVD’s. Scott had finally agreed to watch them. It is apparently Isaac's fault.” Derek’s monotone got an aggrieved look from Stiles, which only resulted in an eye roll from Derek.

“He took them!”

“Well, evidence is kind of important. Do you have any? Besides just knowing?” Noah couldn’t keep the slight tone of amusement out of his voice, leading to receiving a very flat look from Stiles.

“No. I don’t. But it is just the kind of thing he would do. I hate him, I hate him so much!”

“Okay, so… How about we go and have another look upstairs, and if not we can always watch something else and save this for another night, especially as you wanna do a whole marathon….” Scott’s voice faded out as he ushered a slightly placated Stiles upstairs.

Noah sighed, sitting down on the sofa beside Derek. “Where did he hide them this time?”

“What?” Derek turned to look at Noah.

“Where did Scott hide them this time, he is crap at hiding stuff in this house, which means I have to get inventive.” Noah explained, resignation in his voice.

“It was actually reasonable this time. They’re in the Jeep.” Derek shook his head before continuing, “You know, Scott thinks you don’t know it’s him?”

“Scott is a good kid. But a criminal mastermind he is not. That is what he has Stiles for.”

Also on AO3!

[vroomian]

You know, I just realized that while we know Hells feelings towards the Library Demon, what about Heaven? You said the Stacks were pretty much a shelter?

Why would heaven care about some random demon?

No heaven doesn’t care, but the exorcists and Adam in particular hate his guts. There’s nothing he can really do when no one can find the library demon in the first place. Yrz is careful to never outright kill an angel but he does nearly kill more than a few until the message gets through to Leave The Blue Tagged Buldings Alone. Some things are worse than death.

What Yrz actually does during an extermination is make it so it’s impossible to actually get into the stacks if you don’t already live there. Normally it’s just confusing and tresspassers always end up walking themselves out. Residency is keyed to something like a magic tattoo? Because blood and ink and it’s nearly impossible to steal lol. Yrz is about information. His angelic form can scramble the unwary brain without trying — when he does try…

Have you ever had a migraine? A knock down can’t move without being sick lie-in-the-dark until everything stops hurting, oh-god-kill-me migraine? It’s like that but worse. He scrambles brains like he’s making an omelette. They can’t think, much less fight lol.

Anyone caught in the stacks without a housing deal or work contract from Yrz when he uses his power will kill themselves to be free of the agony. He overloads people with information. Lucifer vox and Alastor are the most able to function while he’s doing this but even then it sucks bad

The reason Yrz doesn’t kill any angels outright is he understands that it’s make the retaliation way worse. Also Lucifer told him not the make trouble and Yrz is technically a guest in his house, so it’s just good manners.

(A fun side affect of this shelter is pretty much all the overlords have temporary contracts for private bunkers in the stacks. They’re expensive but Yrz honors his word and the quality is always assured. No one wants to get on the library demons bad side so pretty much all the overlords are polite.

Other people have tried to find out yrzs secret but considering it’s just yrzs own power it’s impossible to steal lol.

Yrz doesn’t shelter all of hell because he’s not strong enough. Plus the shelters are more of a ‘these are my people’ possessive thing that expanded to a lucrative business. Yrz is always wiped after extermination day.)

[justafairytailofinnocence]

James Norrington x male pirate reader? Maybe the pirate got caught by James, heading to the gallows, but James free them instead?

Hello dear, thanks for your request.

James Norrington x male pirate reader 🏴‍☠️⚔ A matter of time⚓

Synopsis: James frees someone from his past from the gallows

Warning: mention's of hanging

The prison of Port Royal was rustic and unkempt; all the cells were lined in an orderly set of rows. Many men within the cells screamed and cursed names that shan’t have been brought to light. The officers at the entrance door wore red regimental coats and white shirts. Over the shirts were cross belts and grey breeches held by braces. They both wore black naval tricorne hats whilst their long hair was tied back with black ribbons. They held their Brown Bess muskets upright, gazing at a man formerly walking down the hall. The man wore a blue, full-skirted royal naval uniform made of wool fitted with very deep boot cuffs. He wore a white powdered wig with a black tricorn adorned with white feathers around the top. He held his hands behind his back, looking stern yet pristine, ignoring the prisoner's squabbles. The two lower-ranked officers saluted him, allowing him passage. He kept walking past all the cells while the prisoners shouted, “Oi, get’s me outta ere’!”, “Aye, I’m beggin ya”, “Lad, Lad, I’ll give ye three shillings fer tha keys”. He scowled at the sight of them, ‘good-for-nothing filthy pirates’ he thought. Scoundrels that held no honour or morals did all they did was steal, pillage, plunder, and commit the most treasonous crimes. His hatred for pirates stemmed from his childhood, ever since his father taught him. He despises any mentions of their names; to think anyone foolish enough to become one deserves a short drop and sudden stop.

The commodore halted in front of a particular cell, his eyes gazing coldly at the pirate seated in the corner. “I trust you’ve saved your prayers, for you shall hang at the gallows on this day”, he spoke with a deep, strict voice. The pirate in question was relatively quiet, unlike the others, he held no regard to acknowledge the commodore's presence. He was quite an untidy fellow, his hair in a mess, wearing a brown tricorn clothed with a brown frock coat and poet blouse. He wore black pantaloons and brown boots for shoes. The commodore had no care if the buccaneer wished to speak or act like a rapscallion. He was set to hang. “Do keep you’re your spirits high Mr L/n, I do believe your worthless life might just end quicker after all”.

The pirate, in turn, glanced up at the austere man with cold eyes. It seemed unfounded how a man had a deep detestation over one's life because they deemed themselves pirates. Had he known what true freedom was, one might say he would turn too. “Aye, keep yer knickers on, I know tis be me day of death, least I get ta visit fiddlers green in the afterlife”. James sternly spoke, “I believe where you’ll wind up, they’ll be no ‘fiddlers green’ but only your sinful damnation”.

The commodore ordered the naval officers to drag this scoundrel to the gallows. “Before ye send me ter me grave in Davy Jones’s locker, I ask why ye betrayed em’ commodore”. The statement in general, made James curious and halted the officers from opening the cell. “And what business do you wish to pry of mine, Mr L/n”.

“Cutler be at large, and ye stand thar a prideful man tha betrayed sparrah’s crew, hell, ye betrayed er—”.

“Whatever nosy rumours you’ve heard of is none of your concern.” The commodore furrowed his brows as his voice grew harsher.

“Aye but tis is, fer I recall a lass and lad back on that island searching fer a coffer” The pirate’s voice grew louder. “Why, don’t-che remember James, I was thar when ye ran wit tha chest, I saw ye leave Jack, Will and Miss Swann”.

“Don’t!” James growled.

“Yer guilty, tis written in yer deadlights”. It was impossible to reason; the pirate was a part of Jack’s crew and had pledged his loyalty to the captain. However, it all changed when the commodore came along, looking like a lost sod. He was a mess in a heap; his rank had become soiled. How could y/n not care for him? He was lost at sea in his state of well-being, drunk. Over time the two had formed a kindred relationship; they both bonded over the loss of their adventures and their devotion to their loved ones—James with Elizabeth and Y/n with Jack. Everything was going well when James betrayed the crew and turned y/n in. Left and set to hang for dead.

Albeit twas y/n’s fault for falling into such a bittersweet lie. Indeed, y/n cared for the commodore more than he should have. Oh alas, and ruin, a man’s yearning heart set on the beating beauty for a lass he is not.

James inhaled and quickly exhaled, displaying a sign of annoyance. He ordered the guards to open the cell and drag y/n out. With both on each side with one arm latched roughly around y/n’s, they began to head toward the gallows—or what should’ve been that way.

Upon exiting the building, the gentle pitter-patter of raindrops could be heard around Y/N. The individual took a moment to inhale the refreshing scent of the precipitation, relishing in its natural aroma. The droplets cascaded down from the sky, creating a stunning display as they contacted the pavement and pooled into small puddles. Y/N couldn't help but feel immensely grateful for the opportunity to stand in place and bask in the mesmerising allure of the rain. As they moved, he savoured every moment of his freedom, relishing every breath of air inhaled and exhaled. Closing his eyes, he felt the raindrops caress his cheeks, cascading gently down his face. As the naval officers led him to the gallows, Y/n took in his surroundings with a sense of calm. His last breath left him, and he opened his eyes to the sight of the rolling sea, gently lapping against the docks of the bustling port. The sound of waves crashing against the shore was soothing to his ears, and he imagined himself on a grand galleon, sailing towards the mythical Fiddler's Green with the wind in his hair. The view of the vast horizon was breathtaking, and he took it all in as he walked towards his destination. Every adventure he had flashed before his eyes, Jack Sparrow, Joshamee Gibbs, Elizabeth Swann, Will Turner and—

James.

Suddenly, the naval officers stopped and pushed the rogue before them. Y/n opened his eyes, feeling disoriented by the new surroundings. He expected to see the gallows and an angry crowd chanting his name in hatred, but instead, he found himself somewhere else, without the Hempen Holter.

They stood by the wooden dock where a schooner was anchored. All the sailors were carrying cargo onboard. As Y/n swivelled around, they were met with a rather grave countenance on James' face. His hands were firmly clasped at his back, and his brows were knitted together in a manner that suggested deep concern. Y/n, perplexed by his demeanour, approached the admiral's chains that were still attached to their wrists and legs. "Care ta enlighten me, James? Are ye tryna hornswoggle me mind?” y/n asked. The admiral swiftly ordered the naval officers to be dismissed, leaving the two of them alone. James drew closer to Y/n and removed the chains from their arms and legs, freeing them from their constraints. Y/n exaggeratedly stretched his arms while moving his arms from side to side. “I must admit, yer surely an odd one James”.

James grasped y/n by his shoulders and revealed his true expression of genuine worry. “Quickly, you don’t have much time, get on while you can—I don’t expect you or Elizabeth to forgive me but I can at least atone for my sins by saving you”.

As Y/n fixed his gaze upon the magnificent schooner, his eyes were brimming with a sense of purpose and longing. "Come with me, together we can break free from our current constraints an’ embark upon a new path," he suggested with a hopeful tone, inviting his companion to take the leap of faith with him. “Our paths may intertwine in the future y/n, but I mustn’t let Beckett know of Elizabeth’s whereabouts—neither your own.

"Go, now” "Please understand," he stated firmly, his expression stern and unwavering. In a sudden surge of emotion, James took hold of the pirate's shoulders and pressed his lips against his with an intense force, leaving them both gasping for breath. Y/n found themselves wrapped up in James's embrace, feeling the softness of his admiral's coat against their skin. "Tif fate allows us to reunite in Fiddler's Green, each and every treasure chest will bear your name, and I shall cherish em’ with all me heart."

As Y/n stepped onto the ship, he couldn't help but feel a twinge of sadness in his heart as he left James behind. They hurriedly made their way through onto the ship as they prepared to set sail. Meanwhile, James watched from a distance, his eyes locked on Y/n's retreating form, his hands clasping behind him, wishing desperately that Y/n could stay with him just a little bit longer. The helmsman shouted, “Prepare to set sail”. With one last look, y/n locked eyes with James and nodded as a departing gesture. “Aye, cap’n!” y/n shouted to the helmsman.

With a heavy heart, James gazed upon the ship as it slowly drifted away from the harbour, carrying away the one person who had captured his heart completely - y/n. As he watched the vessel shrink in the distance, he couldn't help but feel a deep sense of worry and fear creeping up on him. He prayed fervently, hoping that his beloved would reach his destination safely and unharmed and that he would be able to find a new life filled with hope and happiness. Despite his own pain and despair, James knew that he had to remain strong and focused, no matter what challenges he might face.

Anyways that's all I have for now:

Ta Ta ✨

[cannonball5]

You know I don’t think I’ve ever seen an argument in defense of Portwell and/or Rini without at least one of three things:

1. A bashing of Rina as a ship or Ricky and Gina as characters.

2. Anger at the writers/Tim for “ruining” the ships with “poor writing.”

3. Crying into the void that things would be different if Olivia hadn’t left the show

I bring this up because a lot of anti Rina sentiment has popped up online recently. Maybe it has to do with the upcoming anniversary of the series finale, but for whatever reason I’m going to try to put this to bed once and for all, even though I know it’s going to fall on deaf ears (blind eyes?). And to anyone who wants to debate me on this, I gladly say, “bring it on.” Anyway on to breaking down the main things I see repeated over and over again:

1. Bashing Rina, Ricky, and/or Gina: why do so many of you feel the need to tear down a ship or character to feel better? This thinking has led to so many takes that just aren’t true. ‘Ricky jumps from girl to girl,’ ‘Gina is Ricky’s second choice,’ ‘Ricky’s a home wrecker,’ ‘Gina’s a home wrecker,’ ‘Ricky keeps stealing EJ’s girlfriends,’ ‘Gina should’ve been more understanding of the pressure EJ was under.’ And these are some of the nicer takes. By the way I can disprove all of these, and that’s not hyperbolic, I actually can. This desire to tear down a ship you don’t like is not the argument you think it is. The show, character progression, and writing all showcased why these ships work or don’t work. Speaking of.

2. Saying the writing is bad: have you ever read a book or book series and had two characters you wished would get together and then they didn’t? Did you take the book throw it on the ground and say that the writing was bad and you can’t enjoy that book series anymore? That’s what you all sound like. Now I’m not saying that I liked or even agreed with 100% of the show’s writing (season 2 always feels like a slog to get through for me), but the show’s writing isn’t bad. In fact the writing for Ricky, Gina, EJ, and Nini especially is consistent and in character (an assertion I am more than willing and able to back up). Just because the writing isn’t to your particular taste doesn’t mean it’s bad.

3. The Olivia Rodrigo departure: Every time I hear that if Olivia hadn’t left the show Rini and Portwell would be endgame, I want to tear my hair out. Putting aside the fact that Tim Federle, The Creator and Showrunner of the series, has stated multiple times on the record that after the Homecoming Episode in season one that the writing shifted to focus on Ricky and Gina, there’s still a mountain of evidence that Ricky and Gina were always going to be the endgame couple. The fact their stories remain intertwined even during their time apart in season 2, the fact they only were able to start other relationships when they weren’t actively in each other’s lives, and of course the most important piece of evidence, The Rina Cue. I cannot for the life of me figure how anyone can make the claim that Rini and/or Portwell were getting back together when the Rina Cue exists. No one has ever been able to give me a clear and concise explanation for how they can explain away the only original background musical cue for any couple in the entire show. Rini doesn’t have one, Portwell doesn’t either. Seblos, Jetney, Madlyn, Redlyn, Jennzzara, none of them have an original background cue that plays whenever they have a scene together. Only Rina. So if anyone can give me a logical explanation that explains away that melody, I’m genuinely curious to see if you can.

Look, I’m not saying you have to like Rina, it’s fine if you feel a connection to Rini or Portwell or any of the other ships in this show we all love. All I’m asking is if we can all be respectful of each other and engage in respectful discourse about what we did and didn’t like about the series, without feeling the need to attack each other’s ships? Otherwise I’ll probably end up writing another one of these, and nobody wants that.

[doodles-with-noodles]

*I hiss and scamper up a tree and throw rocks with my questions painted on them through your window*

Songs you associate with any of your characters? You know like the thing where you listen to a song and make up an animatic in your head?

What's everyone's favourite colour?

What do the museum archives people do in their free time?

Are any of your characters scared of storms? For no reason in particular.

Opinions on tea? (From the characters) (I mean you can say yours too if you want)

Are there any other metaphors?

What would happen if the main character(s) from all your stories met each other?

Is there anyone in specific the mind burglars are working for or is it just, like, highest bidder?

Similarly, what happens to the stolen memories? Do the victims still have them? How difficult is it do steal a memory? What makes one memory different from the one that happens after it? How many can you steal at once? (This one is like 5 questions badly concealed in a way too small trenchcoat)

Cats?

Alas!

AHHHHHH anyways

Some have more soundtrack feel but:

Jules: Mayonaka no Door/ stay with me, Charlie: Murder on the dancefloor by Sophie Ellis-Bextor, Malik: Good-old-fashioned lover boy by Queen

Ed: Got my mind set on you by George Harrison, Anthony: Rocket Man by Elton John, Norna: You’re my best friend by Queen, Cecil: Long Away also by Queen, Maura: Killer Queen ALSO BY Queen, Roscoe: Don’t bring me down by ELO

Mathildis: Rowing, Cavendish Lab, Collapsing Inwards and A Spacetime Singularity by Jóhann Jóhannsson. All have a very nice science feel and kinda follow in the tone how Mathildis changes I think.

Treeve: Restless by Abel Korzeniowski and The Moon Will Sing by the Crane Wives

They both also have a song together ig? which is Your Blood by Aurora

The Kilmoores have I‘m Dying Mother, Cian has a more soundtracky song named QKThr by Aphex Twin which I think kinda fits (although it sounds a little more peaceful) because it sounds kinda disjointed and heavy. I had a really weird thought recently where I thought that sound design from Cian’s pov like in cinematic format would sound super neat.

2. I don’t know everyone‘s. I think Norna likes orange, Cecil blue, Ed purple, Jules like a burgundy red and Mathildis green.

3. They live in a city so. city stuff I guess. But they also hang out with each other and go pet animals at a shelter. Stuff I‘d like to do ig. They also listen to music a lot?

4. Malik maybe because he can’t hear that well when it’s stormy. It’s a little scary to him.

5. Tea‘s good with milk and honey (mine). The museum archive guys are indifferent. Roscoe is trying to push tea because it’s a little less strong than coffee that has his team all jittery (looking at Norna and Cecil). The science guys drink it if they want to be fancy. The Kilmoores drink tea like, all the time even if in crisis it’s only little ugly dried leaves. Maybe with a shot in it or smth.

6. Huh, idk honestly. The mind burglars have kinda this thing about how abuse (even if only emotionally) fucks you up. The museum archives look a lot at death and grief. Baldur‘s death is how people were manipulated and trained by politics during the war and what that leads to. Kilmoore is about how the war fucks people up directly. Yanno.

7. They‘d probably be confused as hell and try to stick together. Especially Cecil, Mathildis and Cian would be puzzled as hell at each other because weren’t they in different situations, they’d probably think the same. Roscoe wouldn’t like Treeve probably. Ed would try to explain communism to the Baldur’s death and the Kilmoore guys which is a bad idea because they’re alternate universe wartime people.

8. The highest bidder. They be doing it for the cash. Usually it’s corporate shitheads.

9. „Steal“ is more like „we remember the information and submit it.” There’s also overwriting, where you alter a memory to influence a person, but if done wrong, it can cause the person’s sense of self to deravel. Victims do still have them. Complete removal is impossible.

It’s difficult as heck, not only do you have to get past the person’s brain and manipulate them without noticing, you also sometimes come across some pretty fucked up shit in their minds and have to get through to get deeper, and you have to go deep a lot of times. A lot of times you need to keep the person unaware and make them feel as if they’re still conscious, which is why you need a team to tweak stuff. It’s not like you’re rifling through records; it’s like you’re in a place. Steal at once is difficult- the distinction between individual memories is not black and white, and as you go through you see and “steal” a lot of stuff. Fun fact: Cecil has trouble with his memories deraveling later in the story. Say Yipeee to traumatizing slow memory loss!

10. Cats are great. Most of them probably lovee cats.

[dollsorwhatever]

Mattel Disney Princess

I’ve gotten a couple of the Mattel DP dolls and thought I’d share my findings lol Re: hair type; the general rule seems to be that if a doll has relatively straight and loose hair or a very simple style, she will have poly- if the doll has bangs, short hair or any kind of specific hair style or a style that requires gelled curls or (in Moana’s case) textured curls, she will have saran. From what I’ve been told by designers at Mattel, they really do try to work saran into as many dolls as possible and usually reserve poly for dolls with longer/straighter hair (that won’t be damaged as easily through play) or colors that can’t be found in saran; this isn’t a steadfast rule and it really depends on the line and particular doll, but that’s what I’ve been told and what I’ve generally noticed since Mattel started using poly. Based on photographs and videos, my tentative guesses for the budget dolls are that budget Ariel, Pocahontas, Rapunzel, Jasmine, Raya and Elsa- are all poly. The other budget dolls are saran as far as I know.  Deluxe dolls are more likely to have saran but it’s not guaranteed, for example the Deluxe Elsa dolls have poly (I think) but the Hairplay Rapunzel doll has floor length saran hair, and the singing Moana is also saran!  

Of the budget dolls I have Pocahontas (probably my favorite), she has polypropylene hair but it is so straight and simply packaged that it comes with absolutely no frizz and all it took was a quick boil and flat iron to make it look not just nice, but actually gorgeous and sleek and shiny!

(big shirts to cover the molded on tops lol) 

I might even prefer it over g3 Cleo’s poly honestly, it’s that nice lol  I absolutely adore the sculpts for this line so far and Pocahontas is definitely one of my favorites! It only took Mattel, like...30 years to make a new Pocahontas sculpt and it was well worth the wait imo because this is probably her best sculpt of any brand!  My only real issue with Pocahontas is that she has really skinny short legs, which will undoubtedly be present on any version of her with non-sculpted clothing so I’ll have to find a Tall Fashionistas leg donor in her skintone lol I also have the Singing Moana doll! Her (saran) curls were very damaged from the packaging so I just went ahead and straightened them, she was my first Mattel DP doll from this launch and I LOVE her face!! I wasn’t able to get the Deluxe Ariel dolls when they first launched so I’m glad Moana could be my first instead lol

I also have the Hairplay Rapunzel!

I hate her crown honestly, it’s just so large and weirdly proportioned lol Sculpted top, fabric skirt. I’ll be controversial for a second and say that I don’t think there’s anything wrong with sculpted tops and I don’t know how anyone was expecting Mattel to do full fabric dresses for the 10$ budget dolls considering it has been the industry standard for almost a decade at this point, but I don’t know why the hell this doll has one- not just because she’s 23$, but also because the hair gets stuck in her hinged shoulder joints lol.  If that weren’t an issue I would have considered leaving her like this because I actually think the sculpted top is really nice, but I went ahead and ordered the Rapunzel and Maximus doll set to steal her body, because that one does have a fabric dress for some reason lol 

(the original Maximus set head is poly btw)  It really is surprising what a fabric dress and saran hair does to improve an entire doll, even a printed (albeit well made) dress like this one lol

I’ve rarely liked the Rapunzel dolls made by any company, but I really love this one’s sculpt and screening- she reminds me of the 2015 Signature Rapunzel doll from Mattel but with a much softer expression!  These all have UV facial screenings, by the way; pixelated screenings have honestly never bothered me in certain contexts and I like the level of detail they can get with UV, (and that they have a lower frequency of wonk than traditional slide-decals and spray screening) but I figured I would note for anyone who absolutely hates UV screening lol Also, the non-budget Rapunzel dolls come with a frying pan that doubles as a hairbrush, which is the funniest and coolest design for a Rapunzel accessory I’ve ever seen lol 

I remember wanting an accessory for her like this when I was younger and it’s just so funny that they actually did it lol  And since Rapunzel is my only 2023 Mattel DP doll that I have with fabric clothing right now, here’s a quick body comparison!

L-R: Short flat foot Hasbro DP body, 2000′s Mattel short DP body, 2023 Mattel short flat foot body and a Petite Barbie body!  The short Disney princess body from Mattel is actually one of my favorite body sculpts from Mattel, but I do really love this new one! I like the larger feet, the slightly more graceful hands and the fact that the 2023 waist is wider than the bust which is my only gripe with the older version lol  The new Mattel dolls also have shorter necks than before (similar to the G3 MH dolls) so any rebodying with MtM or Fashionista bodies will give them a much longer neck lol  Anyway, while this line is definitely not perfect and I have my own personal critiques, I am actually pleased with a lot of the offerings from Mattel so far and I appreciate them for what they are; the head sculpts are all very nicely done (some of them are the best versions for their respective characters across the board even), the screenings are nice, the accessory sculpts are clever and interesting and the relative frequency of saran hair is a gift from the heavens after all these years of Hasbro princesses with poly hair across the board lol I was never expecting this line to be what other people wanted it to be; it’s pretty clear that Disney wants the Disney Princess line to be marketed for a much younger demographic than a Monster High doll and I can only assume the sculpted tops are working for them if they’ve been so prevalent after all these years, and if they keep the sculpted clothing within the 10-15$ range I don’t think it’s that big of a deal- and I do think there is enough demand for a more ‘deluxe’ set of dolls from Mattel with fabric clothing and full saran hair at a 20-25$ price point, so I hope they make an effort to do more dolls with fabric clothing. And  I would LOVE to be able to get my hands on a Pocahontas and Moana with fabric clothing instead of having to cover their sculpted tops with big baggy sweaters and jumpsuits lol  (oh, and if you want to call any of my dolls ugly, keep it in your own post- I don’t want to hear it! xx) 

[helenadurazzo]

Third Time’s A Charm Part 2

In part two of Third Time’s A Charm for me and @princess-of-pearls-and-stars HPHM x Twisted Wonderland AU. Here Riddle, Ace, Epel, Rook, Asteria, Helena, and Grim have finally made their way to the front doors of the school. However they are quickly informed that they must pass a test before going inside. Helena belongs to me while Asteria belongs to @princess-of-pearls-and-stars

After what seemed like forever waiting near the entrance, Riddle finally broke the silence, “Why is Epel taking so long?”

“You think he got cold feet?” Ace suggested.

“Non, non” Rook assured them, “Monsieur Pommette would never behave in a cowardly manner. I am certain he will turn up any moment…”

And with that the group heard Epel’s voice cry out, “Guys!”

As everyone turned their heads Grim was the first to panic, “What’s charging at us through that dust cloud!?”

“Sorry for the wait!” Epel apologized as he came in riding on the back of the most majestically pure white horse. “It took a bit to get everything ready.”

“Why are you riding a horse!?” Ace question with a shocked look on his face.

“I see,” Helena realized, “It’s all apart of the princely suitor image. The fairytales where the man of the princess’s dream rides in to save the day, might be cliche but I’m sure the ghost bride will be pleased with such dedication. I really should learn to ride myself one day, to expand my horizons past brooms.”

“You are welcome to visit by the Equestrian Club.” Riddle offered politely. “In fact, this particular horse is one of the most uncooperative in the stables and yet it is on its best behavior, mark me impressed.”

“Heh.” Epel chuckled with a hint of embarrassment on his face, “You flatter me.”

“Are you all insane!?” Ace exclaimed, “What Prince in this century would do such a thing, I know Leona certainly would never! Come on! Someone back me up here!”

“I must agree with Roi Des Roses.” Rook pointed out, “The hard work, dynamism, ingenuity, and determination is simply admirable!”

“Dude, talk about overkill…��� Ace continued.

“Chill out.” Asteria playfully punched him in the arm, “You’re outnumbered buddy.”

“Certainly.” Riddle agreed, “So are you finished griping Ace? We don’t have all night you know.”

“Three hours to be exact.” Rook elaborated.

“Oh I’M the distraction!?” Ace exclaimed.

“Here goes nothing…” Epel breathed, ignoring Ace and knocking on the door, being greeted by a ghost retainer.

“Hmm?” The ghost began to ponder.

“Bon soir.” Rook greeted the retainer like a gentleman. “We are with the true fiancee of the young man your lovely bride wishes to wed.”

“I know it’s unfortunate circumstances.” Helena seemed to play the role of a fiancee simply perfectly, “But I have brought along four of my best men to act as replacements if your lovely bride will allow them a chance.”

“So this is the reason for all the suitors.” The ghost theorized, “True fiancee or not, our princess is fed up with this nonsense and will wed the man of her choice. Regardless of the stream of insolent louts who come knocking. I have orders to not let anyone pass, remove yourselves at once!”

“You are going to let your princess steal the man of another without giving those who seek her heart a chance!?” Asteria exclaimed in a furious and frustrated tone.

“Indeed, are you sure you wish that?” Epel pleaded to the retainer, “You will sorely regret not giving us a chance.”

“Is that right?” The ghost eyed them closely. “You sound quite sure of yourself. Fine, you four will be tested, act as if I’m the princess and propose to me, along with this rightful fiancee you have with you and her…handmaiden? Anyways, If you succeed I might allow you to pass.”

“Ahem.” Epel cleared his throat, stepping forward once Helena and Asteria awkwardly stood next to the ghost retainer. The lavender haired boy carefully took one of Helena’s hands and looked into her eyes with soft features, “I swear that I will always make you happy . I shall be the horse-mounted Prince who gallops to the rescue when my lady love is in distress! No matter what trouble may arise, I will never give up or walk away. I’ll protect you from all that could harm you. I know I’m a prince worthy of you princess! Please… will you marry me?”

“My goodness.” The ghost retainer breathed. “What an earnest gaze, not to mention you’re actually riding a white horse! How utterly princely!” The retainer turned his gaze on the others, “You the one with auburn hair, are you one of this young prince’s retainers?”

Ace sounded quite offended to Asteria’s enjoyment, “ME? A Retainer to Epel? Who did you think the other eligible guy was!? Never mind.” Ace seemed to regain his cool the second his gaze turned to Grim ever so briefly, “That is funny, as if I’m anything like these other guys.”

“Alright then.” The retainer acted disinterested, “Let’s see your proposal.”

Ace immediately went over to stand in front of Asteria, though he immediately forgot the proposal he had rehearsed before the group left for the school, just like Riddle warned he would. Yet he tried to improvise as he looked into Asteria’s eyes that shined like sapphires

“Every day will be a blast if you marry me.” Ace began with pure confidence. “And yeah when two people are together long enough they are going to have a couple of spats, but I promise to always apologize. When the going gets tough, you can snuggle up with me, and I’ll always put a smile on your face.” Ace stopped for a moment, remembering how Asteria acted in her early days in Twisted Wonderland, trying to mask her homesickness, especially in front of her sister, “You don’t have to hide behind ‘I’m fines’ and ‘I’m okays’ when you feel sad or scared. You can talk to me about whatever troubles you and I’ll attentively listen to every single word. I’m the right prince for you princess so please, don’t bother looking at the other guys, marry me!” Finishing off with presenting her a rose, something that Riddle stated would come in handy for some reason, and perhaps he understood why a little better now.

Asteria stared at Ace, speechless and touched by his words. Despite the whole proposal being meant for the Ghost Bride in a plot meant to free Idia, he sounded so genuine that a tear running down her cheek and Asteria knew for sure she was lost in her own little world, even after he took a few steps back to hear about his efforts from the ghost guard before reporting back to where the others stood.

“You good sis?” Asteria heard her sister whisper into her ear.

“Yeah why?” Asteria whispered back, not taking her eyes off Ace.

“You are blushing up a storm.” Helena pointed out quietly with a chuckle.

“How could you not with these proposals…” was all Asteria could say.

“What a genuine display!” The ghost retainer cheered, “It is clear you want to make your partner happy. And to think you were just a mere retainer, I sincerely apologize!”

“It was certainly very you.” Riddle pointed out, “But it won’t matter in the end when the princess picks me.”

“Then go ahead.” The ghost retainer waved his ghostly hand, “You are next.”

~~~

“I swear my loyalty to you!” Riddle proclaimed. “Come what may I promise I will never doubt you not will I hurt you. For you, I would do anything in my power. Would you give me your hand in marriage?”

“How convincing,” The ghost exclaimed with wide eyes.

“He’s right!” Epel energetically agreed, “That was so captivating!”

“Pretty earnest yourself there Housewarden.” Ace simply smirked.

“C-cut it out guys.” Riddle stammered with a red face, similar yet different to how he looked like when he was fuming, although he wasn’t doing any of the sort.

The ghost then turned to Rook, “Let’s see if you have what it takes to top those three proposals.”

“Mon tresor, I implore you to allow me to be your eternally devoted love, I have wrote a poem in your honor: Ill fated princess of yore… Lo, how you make my heart soar… Oh, your cold face streaked with tears… Vibrant warmth I’d share for years… Eyes of azure, misty and strong… You’ll find I’ll dry them ere long… Once I’ve caught your clear eyed gaze… Undying love, yours always…”

“Whoa…” Epel breathed

“Dude just hearing that made me feel like I was going to blush.” Ace claimed.

“It was certainly a wondrous work of craftsmanship.” Helena added.

Riddle’s suspicious look that only Asteria seemed to notice quickly turned to realization as he looked at the others, “Wait you guys, try putting the first letter of each line together!”

“The first letters?” Epel raised an eyebrow.

“As if I bothered to memorize any of that.” Grim rolled his eyes with disinterest.

“I should’ve have written it down.” Riddle muttered, seemingly frustrated, “But I will enlighten you. Once you put all the first letters together, they spell ‘I love you’”

“WHAT!?” Asteria, Ace, Epel, and Grim all exclaimed in unison.

Helena chuckled awkwardly moving a lose strand of hair behind her ear, “I thought that detail was obvious?”

“I am pleased Roi des Roses and Dame du Jardin took note of that.” Rook beamed.

“But how-“ Asteria tried to ask.

“I am a crossword expert myself.” Riddle explained. “It is something you pick up on when looking at the words.”

“And Talbott taught me a thing or two about poetry last year.” Helena reminded Asteria.

“I think these Pomefiore guys are just a bunch of weirdos.” Grim still didn’t seem impressed based on his tone.

“All?” Epel sounded quite offended, “Let’s take it easy now.”

Rook certainly had more to present as he continued to speak, “Oh, was that enough for you? Then let me present my next composition.” He cleared his throat then continued, “Alas in my chest’s a whole, left from when my heart you stole. With that I could turn back time, and escape this love sublime. Yet there is no other way, save from going astray.”

“ALRIGHT ENOUGH!” The ghost retainer shouted. “You’re wild about her! I heard you loud and clear.” He then turned to Helena in particular, “I see that the four gentlemen you have presented to me are nothing like the reckless oafs who came previously.”

“Great.” Riddle gave a satisifed smile, “So we can enter and allow the guy the ghost bride is about to wed his rightful love and take his place?”

“You didn’t let me finish.” The ghost pointed out. “You see, there is one small matter.”

“And what is that?” Helena asked.

“The Prince you brought, the red haired one and gray eyes.” The ghost explained, “He is much too short.”

As Riddle’s eyes narrowed Ace began to plead, “Housewarden, stay cool! He doesn’t appreciate what a swell guy you are! Talk about a rube am I right?” He awkwardly chuckled but it didn’t seem to lighten the atmosphere to his dismay.

“HOW DARE YOU SPEAK TO ME THAT WAY!” Riddle shouted at what had to have been his maximum volume. “OFF WITH YOUR HEAD!!!”

“Pardon!?” The ghost exclaimed as a heart shaped collar appeared on him, courtesy of Riddle’s signature spell

“You shall burn you insolent fool!” Riddle proclaimed as he cast a spell featuring intense amounts of flames. Causing the ghost to retreat from them.

“Magnificent flames, Riddle!” Rook cheered “They achieved their goal straight away!”

Riddle groaned, “How much longer must I endure these jabs? Men grow well into their twenties! I’ve got time left.”

“Regardless I don’t see why this bride is a stickler for height.” Asteria shook her head. “Must be a ghost thing.”

Ace scratched the back of his head, “Sounds like you looked up that fact yourself Housewarden. Has this been bothering you?”

“Not at all!” Riddle scoffed, “What bothers me is people who judge simply based on appearance.”

“I get that, trust me.” Epel noted, “But if we use loud and flashy magic like that then.” He then stopped what he was saying when three more ghosts emerged, curious and concerned about the commotion, “that will happen!”

“Let’s catch these troublemakers.” One of the ghosts proclaimed as they all tried to cast a variety of spells.

"Way to go dude!" Ace exclaimed, annoyed and furious with Riddle, “You are the lousiest suitor ever with that fierce temper of yours.”

Riddle didn’t even have the energy to snap back, “What have I done…”

[yobuddybing]

NAYKT Season 2 - Update 2

Tag List: @mightnightmooon @thelittleautisticgirl

Like or reblog >>this post&lt;< to be added to the tag list

The bus station cafe is way too busy so they head across the road to some fast food place and place two orders of food for the humans. They sit at a table together, Bim and Bing opposite each other, with Green next to Bim and King next to Bing.

“So no sign of Silver yet?” Bing asks between bites of his burger.

Bim shakes his head. “Not yet. The Colonel and JJ are…doing something.” His words are weighted with disappointment as he avoids looking at any of them, picking at his fries. Honestly he’s not all that hungry. “They’ll figure it out.”

Bing glances to Green who shakes his head. Bim’s been moping like this for months. They’ve tried to help cheer him up but he doesn’t seem to go for it at all. Better to leave it be.

“So what else have I missed?” Bing asks instead.

“The Jims are out of sync.” King’s getting restless, leg bouncing beneath the table, avoiding looking at anyone or anything in particular. The lights, the air, and the din of humanity bustling around them is slowly burrowing its way under his skin. The only thing keeping him half-sane right now is the gentle scrape as he slides the salt shaker between his hands on the table. “They think we haven’t noticed but we have.”

“Out of sync?”

King pauses, shuffling in his seat as he thinks.

“You know how they would always say everything at exactly the same time, no matter what it was and it was so annoying?”

“You’re the only one who finds it annoying.” Bing chuckles.

“He’s not.” Bim mutters.

“The point,” King cuts in, “they aren’t any more. They go to say something but one’s always like a second too early, or says something completely different.” He remembers the first time it happened. The way the Jims’ eyes just went wide and they immediately ran.“It’s weird.”

It’s definitely weird. For longer than Bing’s even known the Jims they’ve always worked as one. They’ve moved, acted, thought, decided as a single person and while yeah it’s weird, you get used to it.

“Do we know why?”

King snorts, going back to sliding the salt back and forth.

“They’re the Jims, who knows why they do anything?”

“Be nice.” Bim reminds him.

It’s no secret; King has never gotten along with the Jims. They’re extroverted, over the top, and reckless at the best of times while King is more reserved, introverted, and generally hateful towards humanity. Still, that’s no reason to be rude.

“We don’t know.” Green finally answers, “They refuse to acknowledge it.”

Damn. If a Jim doesn’t want to talk, there is no known force in the universe that can change their mind. They’re not allowed outside the building so they know every nook and cranny where they can hide away. Once they stayed hidden for two months, only surfacing to steal food from the kitchen, just to avoid being questioned about who broke something in the clinic.

Taking another bite Bing wonders what could be going on with them when he spies a sly glance from Bim aimed at King. The cyborg looks over; King’s not looking but his brow is furrowed and he shakes his head. Bim raises his eyebrows pointedly.

“What?”

They startle, eyes going wide as they realise he saw them. Bing frowns. That’s totally not suspicious or worrying at all.

“Seriously guys, what?”

“Mad moved in.” Green’s blunt in his answer, the others turning to him and trying to hush him. Bing just stares in shock, a fry half way to his mouth suddenly forgotten.

“He what?”

“So much for breaking it gently.” King mutters, sinking into his seat.

Bing shakes his head. “I thought he was staying at the warehouse?”

A lot had happened while Bing was out of it and since then there’d been weeks of trying to sort it all out. Some people chose to leave, some wanted to stick around, and Dark offered for Mad to move into the building if he wanted. An invitation that the madman made stupidly clear the lot of them could shove where the sun doesn’t shine. Even after Natemare took the offer, Mad just said to lose his number and leave him alone.

“That was the plan.” Bim starts.

“Then what the heck?!”

Bing’s fist slams down, rattling the table and drawing the attention of several people nearby.

Bim looks between the cyborg’s fist and his face, not looking amused. “Feel better?”

The cyborg uncurls his fingers. His right hand. He keeps forgetting it’s stronger since his upgrade. Luckily he didn’t leave an impact on the table

“I’m fine.” he mutters. He clearly isn’t.

Green shifts, leaning over while making sure to keep his hand on Bing’s suitcase by his side.

“The warehouse burned down. Mad needed somewhere to stay and honestly we need his help with our processors.”

His voice is low, stern, very matter-of-fact. A clear indication that this is the end of this conversation.

Bing bites the inside of his lip. In Goog’s emails he’d said they were working on new emotional processors for the other Googles, now that they knew they had a limited life-span before they burned out too. Given the extreme circumstances Goog’s new one was made under, they wanted to fine-tune it before making a new one for the others.

Sure that would be easier with Mad’s help, after all no one knows anything near what he does about robotics, but that doesn’t change what a colossal self-serving buttwipe the guy is. Not to mention that he’d probably betray them all at the drop of a hat if it suits what he wants.

Bing drops the fry onto his plate and slumps in his seat. He’s not hungry any more.

Bim’s stopped eating too, and King’s clearly overstimulated. Green stands up, looking between them.

“I think it’s time we went home.”

“Agreed.” Bim nods.

“Finally.” King all but leaps out his seat, shaking away his discomfort.

Bing absently nods in agreement as he stands. At this point he just wants to be home.

Previous | Next

[69why-am-i-doing-this69]

Someplace Quieter

Aesop Sharp x OC

Description:

An American auror transferring to the British Ministry of magic for some peace of mind. She first has to undergo supervision under oath of not meddling in the British affairs. It was only a benefit to the ministry to place her under the supervision of the former auror now potions professor.

Notes:

Mirabel is a light weight, I will not hear anyone out.

Nani facts:

Has never gotten black out drunk cause she's afraid she'll spontaneously combust. Also not her first time she resorted to chugging someone's drink to get them to stop.

TW: alcohol

Chapter 6 - Don't Burn the Place Down

I approach the doors to the potion’s classroom, a basket of poppies around my forearm. I hesitate, hearing two voices come from the potion’s classroom. I slowly open the door, pressing my face closer to the slit to hear Aesop saying, “I don’t recall seeing any runes book here, Madam Scribner.” She’s already noticed the book I took. It’s been four days since I took the book, and although I haven’t completely translated all the pages, I would need to finish soon. I remove myself from the door and straighten my posture. She works remarkably fast for such a large library, especially when I removed all the protective charms it had. I finally break away from watching the conversation to walk in. I start walking to both Aesop and Madam Scribner while her head snaps to me.

“You!” she shouts at me, charging at me.

“Me?” I squeak with feigned ignorance, stopping in my place.

“You took it, didn’t you?” She gets relatively close to my face. My ignorant composure remains unfaltering as I glance at Aesop, leaning on the front of his desk. He returns my gaze with mutual confusion, except his was genuine.

“Take what exactly?” I pick at the wood on my basket, hoping that this woman hasn’t seen through my ruse.

“There happens to be a missing runes textbook that was taken from the library,” Aesop speaks. Madam Scribner, taking her cold glare off me to glance at him. “Do you know anything about it?” he inquires more out of courtesy than interest.

“Forgive me, but for what reason would I need a runes book?” I ask, turning to Madam Scribner, knowing completely why I needed it, yet it was outlandish for either of them to think of it.

“It’ll turn up eventually, I don’t see why anyone would keep it for an extended period of time,” Aesop negotiates. Madam Scribner ponders the thought for a moment before leaving with a huff.

 Aesop, and I watch her leave before I quip, “All this for a runes book?”

“She is rather diligent in her work, though it is rather peculiar that a typical runes book was taken and not something from the restricted section,” he notes, his auror habits causing him to start asking questions. We both can understand that taking anything that simple is strange unless it leads to something more complicated. The more he thinks about it, the more he’ll be more tempted to investigate. I’m sure he’s more than willing to relive anything from his previous employment, so I must quell it quickly.

“Then it’s a good thing that it’s just a rune’s book then, since there’s little that subject can do to warrant any further research with anything forbidden” I look at him crossing my arms, being mindful of the basket, gauging his expression. He’s not quite convinced, so I’ll need to say another point, “Could be a bout of some late-night ambition.”

“Would that be something a student would steal a book over?” He furrows. I grin, it’s a good question, but he’s on the wrong trail, which means he has no impression that I’d do it. Then again, without knowledge about the particular situation I’ve stumbled upon, why would I do it?

I shrug, “I’ve broken into the quidditch field in the middle of the night to practice.”

 He squints at what I said. The only thing I can hope for is for that to deter him from the book, “Why in the middle of the night?”

I smile, glad that he’s fallen for the new topic, “I find solitude more favorable when finding new ways to agitate rivals. Plus, the view is quite nice, so it’s easier to think.”

“Living to the thunderbird house name I presume,” he says, glancing at my basket of poppies, hard to miss by their vibrant color. I flash him a prideful smile while walking to his desk, removing the basket from my arm.

“I made sure to pick the best poppies. How do you want these stored?” I place the basket on his desk, now standing next to him. He looks over his shoulder, taking a closer look at what he’s going to work with. I take one from the basket, admiring closely at its orange petals before holding it to Aesop. He gladly takes it, brushing his fingers across my hand in the process.

I feel myself heating up at the action, turning my head to look at the rest of the poppies out of shame from the simple action. He looks closely at the petals, then feeling the stem in his hand. He takes out his wand to conjure three jars in front of me. He hands back the poppy to me, “separate the petals, stamens, and the leaves.”

I nod at him while he removes himself from the desk, starting his usual routine. If he wasn’t sitting at his desk grading, then he was experimenting with his health potion. I start picking at the poppies while sneaking glances every once in a while, admiring his work.

…

I pace the bedroom, occasionally looking into the mirror. The potted ivy sways to and from depending on where I stood. I look to it, “Is the vest too much?”

It shakes in a way that I assume would be a no. I turn to look at the mirror again, focusing on the maroon vest, the paisley pattern adding a sleeker look. It was certainly the focal point of my outfit given that it was the only thing I wore that didn’t consist of an achromatic color scheme. It didn’t clash with the black pants I below or the white blouse underneath. I sigh, “this is ridiculous. I’ve fought multiple trolls at this point, and I’m worrying about a stupid vest.”

I look at my vanity, multiple pieces of ribbon strewn about it. I dig around to find a black and a matching maroon ribbon. I took them in both hands, turning around to get close to the ivy, placing each ribbon beside it, “Which one do you think looks better?”

It sways between the two before lifting a leaf to the maroon one. I nod at its judgment, placing the black one back on the vanity before looking in the mirror, tying the maroon ribbon around my collar into a neat bow. I present myself to the ivy, and it shakes in satisfaction. I grin at it, reaching to pet it’s leaves. I take one deep breath before walking to the foot of the bed, grabbing my shiny black boots, lacing them, finally walking downstairs and out the door to the Three Broomsticks.

It was only a minute or two to reach the double doors of the building. Looking up to see three broomsticks, each placed end to end to form a triangle. There was no mistaking the place. I took a breath before entering, being met with the stench of alcohol and loud discussions coming from the patrons. My eyes scan the tables, unable to find the pair that I was looking for. It wasn’t till my head turned right where I saw a familiar face.

With her green attire, vibrant amber hair, and simply warm demeaner, it certainly wasn’t hard to miss Mirabel. Aesop was sitting across from her, and his back faced me. They seemed to be in a rather fervent discussion, Mirabel’s hands waving all around her while Aesop listens intently. I slowly walk towards the table, feeling guilt for disrupting them.

“Nani!” A flowery voice shouts, Aesop’s head snaps to me. I grin at them before Mirabel recklessly scoots her chair to get up, catching both of our attention. She skips around the table before essentially collapsing onto me. I raise my arms to catch her, hers wrap around me in a tight hug. My arms stall in their outstretched position as I look at Aesop perplexed. He chuckles at my bewildered expression, bringing the bottle of firewhiskey to his lips. I slowly embrace Mirabel, patting her back before trying to remove myself. She holds on tighter in response, squeezing the air out of me.

I look at Aesop with a pained expression, “How much has she had before I came here?”

He points to three glasses in front of Mirabel's seat, two empty and one halfway through with mead. “The amount that’s empty is the amount that she drank today,” he takes another swig from his drink. I look at him, just as confused as before. Mirabel removes herself from me, taking my hands in hers.

“Sirona,” she giggles at me. Her face completely flushed with red. I glance to Aesop in the hopes he can translate, though he was too busy with his own drink.

“Sirona?” I ask, looking back at her for more information. She quickly tugs my arm, bringing me to the bar where the owner is tending to her patrons. Mirabel quickly sits at the stool, patiently waiting for her attention.

“Glad to see a new face around here,” Sirona turns her attention to us. I smile at her, going to introduce myself, but Mirabel beat me to it.

“This is Nani, the person I’ve been telling you all about,” she exclaims.

“Thank Merlin you’ve arrived then, I was starting to feel sorry for Aesop,” she motions to the lone man, sipping his Firewhiskey. “What will it be?”

“Firewhiskey, please,” she nods, grabbing a bottle and placing it in front of me. I take it and immediately brought it to my lips, taking a large drink.

“There’s so much I need to tell you about what happened this week,” Mirabel giggles. She starts to ramble about the witch’s ganglion, a conversation I didn’t want to stick around with when Aesop is still by himself. I eye at Sirona, trying to get her attention, which she immediately picks up on. I nod my head towards Aesop, silently asking permission to depart from this conversation. She grins at me before her attention turns back to Mirabel, taking another bottle of firewhiskey and placing it in front of me. I nod at her with appreciation, grabbing the other bottle and walking to the table Aesop is sitting at, Mirabel being none the wiser. I place the bottle in front of him before taking a seat.

“She’s even more enthusiastic when intoxicated,” I comment, taking another sizeable swig from my bottle.

He laughs again, “Are you really surprised?”

“I guess I shouldn’t be,” I finally start to relax, the buzz from the alcohol creating a calming warmth around me. A few drinks later, and I unknowingly finish the entire bottle.

“Are you going to grab another one?” Aesop asks, looking at my now empty bottle.

“It’s a tempting idea, but unfortunately, it wouldn’t be ideal to continue,” I look down, fiddling with the bottle. Keeping it in my hand to prevent bolting to Sirona for another.

“No? Do you have other plans for tonight?” Aesop asks, just as composed despite how much more he drank in comparison. I slowly lift my head to look at him, the effects of the firewhiskey starting to set in. Despite it all, I thought it was an oddly pressing question for him to ask. Did he think I was up to something?

“Don’t you think it’s oddly warm in here?” I counter. The fireplace was across the room from us, yet it felt like we were sitting right in front of it. Aesop immediately took notice. I lean on the table, one elbow resting on it, using my hand to hold my neck while my other hand still grips the empty bottle, “The more I drink, the more I become a walking hazard and I don’t think anyone wants this place to burn down.”

“Nani!” I jump at the sudden call, my head looking up to Mirabel standing behind me.

“Yes?” I squeak, slightly afraid of her chaotic demeanor. Aesop snorts slightly, causing me to glare at him.

She places a hand on my shoulder while I smile at her, “Dance with me.” My smile immediately dropped. As much as her smile charmed me, I wouldn’t have danced if my life depended on it.

“I don’t dance,” I say. If I were to make a fool out of myself, it’ll surely cause an accident. I’m in no state to get close to the fireplace, either.

“What, why?” She whines. For a moment, I was willing to risk it all, but flashes of learning how to dance with Silas and Yuki in Ilvermorny quickly banished the idea.

“I’m a horrid dancer,” I confess. She pouts for a moment before twisting her face back into a bright smile. She leaves us one more to return to Sirona, and I hear a low snicker from my side.

 “You dance with her then,” I fire at him, quickly snapping my head from watching Mirabel to face him, which causes him to chuckle.

“As much as I’d like to demonstrate, I have become severely limited,” He leans back in his chair, folding his arms across his chest. I lower my gaze to his exposed forearms, biting my cheek as it slightly flexes. I’m sure they would feel so wonderful wrapped around my thighs.

“You can dance?” I snap out of my illicit thoughts, looking back at his eyes. He looks back at me, raising his eyebrow like I offended him.

“Every student had to learn to dance. Did you not have balls in Ilvermorny?” he asks.

“We certainly had dances but…,” I lower my gaze, grinning, unsure if I wanted to share too deeply into why, “���I didn’t stay there for long.”

“Why not?” He presses. I look back at him with an embarrassed grin.

“With all the attention on monitoring the dances, there was a lot more you could get away with,” I admit. He tilts his head, looking at me with disappointment.

“Nani, what did you do?” My grin deepening, trying really hard to concentrate on figuring out the right words to say. The alcohol is not doing much to help.

“Aesop,” I drawl, setting aside the empty bottle to lean completely on the table, “I feel like your respect in me would highly decrease given your position as potion master.”

His expression becomes quizzical, but any further questioning was halted as Mirabel joined us once more with another glass of mead. she says with a bright smile, “forgive me for leaving both of you.”

My eyes snap to the full glass of mead she held in her hands. I glance back at her seat. There still was a neglected glass filled halfway full of mead. Mirabel hiccups, her entire body jumps when she does it. I look to Aesop, trying to suppress my smile. He looks back with a grin. Both of us mutually agree that she shouldn’t have any more. I eye the glass of mead next to him before meeting his gaze. He follows my glance, understanding the idea of drinking the rest of her drinks before she could. He grabs the mead from the table, bringing it to his lips.

I got up, the seat scooting back from the force of my action. “Mirabel!” I exaggerate, smiling just as brightly as her as I place my hands on her arms. “I’ve missed you,” I say, pulling her into my embrace, dexterously snagging the glass from her hands.

“I’ve missed you too,” she slurs, hiccupping right after. Happily accepting my embrace, wrapping her arms around me, immediately forgetting the mead she had held in her hands. I wrap an arm around her waist while bringing the mead to my lips over her shoulder. It’s so incredibly sweet. I grimace, chugging all its contents before removing myself with a small cough. She removes her hands from my waist, bringing it to her front, never diminishing her cheery smile.

I keep an arm around her shoulder while we both turn to Aesop. The glass that was once half full of mead was now empty by his arm. I smile at him, shaking the empty glass I was holding over Mirabel’s shoulder. He nods, mimicking mine. Mirabel stiffens, “where did it go?” she mumbles, looking at her open hands. She only now noticed that she’s missing her drink. Almost stumbling away from me to look for it, but I kept her upright by placing my open hand on her waist to keep her steady.

“Mirabel, I think you need to lay down,” I remove my arm, around her shoulder, behind my back, placing the glass on the table.

“That sounds like a brilliant idea,” Aesop adds, getting up from his seat and taking his coat, “shall we show Nani the private area, Mirabel?”

“Private?” I ask with my eyebrows slightly furrowed. Mirabel’s smile brightens before quickly tugging my arm, pulling me to the large staircase. My body is still facing Aesop as we walk across the floor to the foot of the stairs. Private for what?

“For all the professors to take a nice break from the blooming students,” Mirabel whimsically remarks, removing her hold on me to start climbing the stairs.

I stare at the flight of stairs before turning to Aesop with concern, “Is your leg going to be alright?”

“I have walked up these stairs multiple times, Nani,” he states with no emotion, nudging me to catch with Mirabel. It didn’t take long to catch up with her, given her inebriated state. After the first few flights, my calves start to feel a slight burn. I mentally give all my praises to Aesop for bearing this journey.

Mirabel slips on the steps; I quickly grab her waist to hold her up. “Shit,” I mutter, starting to fall with her, the mead starting to hit my senses. Aesop’s arm wraps itself around my waist to prevent me from falling, the palm of his hand planting on my stomach. “Mirabel,” I groan, lifting her back up, “you’re the front of the line, you can’t knock us over.”

 “I don’t remember the way up being that long,” she hiccups. I sigh, keeping an arm around her waist while bringing her arm over my shoulders. I almost whimper in disappointment when Aesop removes his hold on me, but it quickly escapes my mind as I try to keep Mirabel steady.

“Don’t worry, you’ll forget it in the morning,” I grit. Thankfully, I only have to carry her for one more flight before reaching a door with a lock on it. She also doesn't weigh as much as Silas, either. Aesop walks in front of us to unlock it. After hearing a few clinks and jangles, he opens the door for me to get Mirabel in the room.

I trudge her through the threshold. she jolts away from leaning on me, fulfilling herself to the sweets left on the table. I stood for a moment, trying to concentrate as dizzying feeling from the mead encapsulates my senses before a breeze passes behind me. I turn my attention to see Aesop, walking to the couch beside the fireplace. He sits at the end, leaning on the arm of the chair. I follow to sit next to him, leaning my head back on the couch with my eyes closed, trying to calm myself.

My eyes snap open when I felt something fall on my thighs. I look down to see Mirabel’s head using them as a pillow with her eyes closed. I glance at Aesop who’s also watching her. “Tired?” I quietly hum to her.

“No,” she chuckles below me, “I’m just resting my eyes. You’re really warm, Nani,” mumbling the last part. Already drifting to sleep. I slightly snort, turning my attention to the only other conscious person in the room. Whether it was the more intimate proximity or the alcohol muffling my sense of judgment, I rest my arm on his shoulder, using my hand to hold my head up to look at him at eye level. He doesn’ flinch. Instead, I think he even leans to reciprocate. We stare at each other in a comfortable silence. It was the closest we’ve ever been. I study his face, trying to memorize every detail into my brain. The trail of his scar, the odd patches in his stubble, and finally, I glance to his lips. He is just as handsome now as he was five years ago. I feel myself grin, I guess some things hasn’t changed at all. I was about to speak until Mirabel rolls to her side. Aesop, and I watch her while her head snuggles my thighs. My smile dropped, and I almost forgot about her and Aesop.

A forced chuckle fell through my lips, and my unused hand rests on her shoulder. I break the silence, “last thing I would’ve expected would happen when coming here would be drinking with the Hogwarts professors.”

“I figured you’d immediately go back to the states after they assigned you here. Didn’t think you’d last this long” he replies languidly, the effects of the alcohol now showing on him. Acknowledging that it’s almost been a month since I started working with him.

“I don’t want to go back,” I respond quietly. Caressing Mirabel’s shoulder with my thumb to keep my hands apart from each other.

“No? You were quite renowned there,” he inquires. I was a proficient auror in America, so I’m sure it would be somewhat of a shock from my recent departure. I didn’t want to dwell on it, especially after a couple of drinks.

I smile at him, changing the subject, “you’ve been keeping tabs on me, Aesop?”

“That’s not what I meant,” he combats with no hesitation. My smile turns into a pout. He clears his throat, “well, of course I read the columns in the papers, and the department doesn’t do anything to sully the details of their findings or their aurors.”

“Ah, so the journalists got you too,” I chuckle, patting his arm before returning it to a snoozing Mirabel.

“What do you mean?” He looks at me with a confused expression. I glance at the wrinkles from his incessant furrowing, causing me to grin.

“It’s the same reason why I kept the newspapers from my debut. They like to dramatize a lot about what they write about,” I explain. It was used beneficially for both the department and the news publications. It became a common practice to leak certain pieces of information or publicize their best aurors' lives to distract the public from certain events or shortcomings. The theatrics journalists tend to include certainly played into it. I continue, “I can remember reading the headline, ‘She can Breathe Fire’.”

He laughs, “I’m sure more tricks made headlines ever since.”

“That wasn’t quite where they focused on, but I did learn something new,” I say with eagerness.

“Oh really?” I lift my hand from Mirabel’s shoulder, turning it to appear like I’m holding a ball. I took a minute to focus, and flames sprout from my fingers, acting as if each finger were candles. I knew I could hold flames, but it took a couple of years in the force to manage to produce them. I fiddle my fingers back and forth, the flames dancing alongside the movements. Aesop watches with what I hope, was fascination. He looks back at me, “Impressive.” I stare at him with a smile as his face becomes more illuminated. He darts to my hand again to see a large ball of flame emit from the palm of my hand instead of the small flames on my fingers. “I thought you didn’t want to risk burning the place down?”

“Touch it,” I say confidently. He looks at me in shock, and I only nod at it. He hesitantly places his palm over the flame, his face scrunches to that of bewilderment. It’s not hot. It shouldn’t be. His hand slowly grazes the flame. Once he realizes that he doesn’t feel the burning sensation, he submerges his palm, parting the flame.

“It doesn’t burn?” He asks.

“No but…,” I trail, the flame dissipating as I straighten out my hand. The flame disappears as I reach to wrap my hand around his fingers. His felt rough and calloused and rather cold, but that was because mine was much warmer. He furrows at the feeling of my incredibly warm hand, “there’s a transition somewhere that I have yet to figure out.”

He doesn’t let go of my hand. I wouldn’t either if there was something incredibly warm to hold onto. What I wasn’t expecting was him caressing the back of my hand with his thumb as it slowly returns to its normal temperature. He took a minute to speak, “does fire even burn you?”

I look at the hand he was holding, making sure that the sleeve covered my wrist. I look at his eyes once more, “not by itself, no.”

“It must be nice,” he mutters, finally removing his hand. A flash of dejection follows, if only he could hold on just a little bit longer.

“Sure, but due to it’s nature, I can’t enjoy the ability to wear something as nice looking as your three-piece suit without feeling like I’m burning to a crisp,” I let slip, looking at the leather overcoat he has on before looking at his eyes. He tries to suppress a laugh, I’m not sure if it’s for Mirabel’s or my sake. My eyes went wide, realizing that I said it out loud. He doesn’t make a sound until the embers in the fireplace start crackling.

[blookmallow]

and today on “why do i keep watching these,” we have: 12 ways to sneak candy past your parents

half of these are just like, meticulously crafting candy versions of regular household things, because, ah ha!! your parents won’t notice your chocolate if you’ve made it into a fucking realistic ipad 

nevermind that this requires already having chocolate in the first place, and somehow having the time for all this prep work to make it look like an ipad, which apparently the parents don’t notice at all, and i really feel like you could’ve just eaten the chocolate in the time it took to make this, but what do i know i guess 

or how about some candy golfballs? they don’t explain how to make these. just do it. make some golf balls. if your parents catch you eating them, they’ll just think, oh, haha, silly me, she’s just eating some fucking GOLF BALLS, at least it’s not candy!

however she does not at any point make any attempt to eat the golf balls, she’s just playing golf with them, so i guess her parents object to even the existence of candy anywhere in the vicinity whether anyone is eating them or not. and if the idea is to eat them when they’re not looking, couldn’t you just. do that with any candy. why did they need to be golf balls. how does this help anything 

we also have, uh... squid game?? for some reason??? are kids watching squid game? i feel like kids should not be watching squid game 

anyway the hack is, steal your mom’s lotion container and. make whatever these sugar candy things are. in it. they did not explain how to make this. it seems like the need to sneak it past her mom is kinda irrelevant if she was able to Make it herself so i dont know why she now needs to hide it but whatever

she then gets caught, because she used her mom’s lotion container, so her mom noticed the missing lotion container, so the hack was completely useless to begin with, 

really not selling your ideas very well here, troom troom 

so anyway the parents respond with a family squid game cosplay and tell her if she can cut out the star she can have it. so, to recap here, this hack is:

1. dump out all your mom’s lotion so you can steal the container. only works if she uses this particular little round lotion tin though

2. make your own... korean sugar candy thing. im sorry i dont know what that stuff is called. from scratch, by yourself. you know how to do that, right? your parents wont notice this, dont worry. their absolute devotion to monitoring the house for any possible candy contraband won’t be an issue here 

3. your mom notices you’ve stolen her lotion and will come looking for it, but when she sees your squid game reference she’ll immediately forgive you for ruining her lotion and sneaking candy, and join in by giving you a challenge that will result in her letting you have candy. i guess. no word on whether she just fucking kills you if you mess it up though

then there’s also. making a pipe out of gum, which is another very unnecessarily complicated process, and im gonna bet they probably used clay or fondant or something because i DOUBT gum would be this easy to work with 

but the thing is, this isn’t the little girl making a pipe out of gum to sneak it past her parents, as the theme of this video would lead you to expect. no, the dad notices there’s a leak in the kitchen sink, so he needs to replace the pipe, and he remembers, ah! my daughter has some stretchy tube toys! i could use one of those! which is already not a great idea for how to fix your plumbing, but for some reason he decides to use her toy to... sculpt a pipe out of gum. and use that instead. as you do

so really the daughter wasn’t even involved here. i think the idea was “make a tube toy out of gum” in line with the other “make candy look like regular stuff” hacks but for some reason they made it about the dad instead so it no longer makes anything close to sense

anyway shockingly this doesn’t work out well and it breaks so they have to call a real plumber to come fix it 

and for SOME REASON they make their daughter pay for it???

she didnt even DO anything this time it wasn’t even her gum it was her dad doing all this weird nonsense. i think maybe they meant for her to replace a pipe with gum as a Sneaking Candy scheme that backfired but like, forgot what they were doing halfway through 

none of these were good, none of this makes any sense, would not recommend

also shout out to this apparently TWELVE HOUR VIDEO about. secret rooms for. elemental puppies. or something. i dont know i was too afraid to find out 

[nettedtangible]

Excerpt from my Wolfstar WIP Sunburnt Summers.

Find it here on AO3

* * *

“Hey Lils,” he murmured, unsure if she would even be able to hear him.

“Mm,” she responded softly.

“I love you,” he said, smiling.

“I love you too fuckwit,” she said. He could hear the smile in her voice.

“Charming,” he chuckled, and she squeezed his hand.

“This is gonna be the best summer ever,” she said, and it sounded halfway between a promise and a plea.

“Of course it will,” he said, reassuringly. “Summer Bucket List; go,” he said, playing with her fingers.

“Hmm,” she replied, considering. “Avoid the parentals,” she began, Remus hummed in agreement, “avoid Tuney.”

“Excellent choices,” he said, waiting for her to continue.

“I know it sounds silly,” she paused, and his curiosity piqued, “but I’d like to kiss someone.”  

“Oh,” said Remus, it certainly wasn’t what he’d been expecting. “Who?” he asked nervously. Lily laughed.

“Not you, wanker, if that’s what you’re thinking, don’t worry.” Remus laughed as well, feeling a slight loosening at her words all the same.

“No, I don’t know who. Someone nice,” she mused. Remus considered her words. He supposed it was bound to happen eventually; they were fourteen after all. He wondered if he would like to kiss someone. Someone nice. He didn’t feel any particular excitement at the prospect.

“We’ll find someone,” he said confidently, “someone nice for you to kiss.”

“Oh, it’s just that easy, is it?” she responded sarcastically.

“No, not for everyone,” he said “but for Lily Evans, of course. Who wouldn’t want to kiss you?” Lily laughed at that.

“Shut up, tosser.” He just smiled.

“What about you?” she said, “Summer Bucket List.” He considered her question.

“I’d like to surf,” he said finally. “It seems like a lot of fun.”

“Oh, yours is much easier than mine,” she said, “we could do that tomorrow.”

“Well,” he said reasonably, “I have no idea how to surf and I don’t have any money for a board, or lessons for that matter.”

“Pssh,” Lily said, raising the hand that wasn’t tangled in Remus’ and waving it dismissively, “small peanuts.” Remus smiled. He could never tire of her unfailing optimism and confidence in her own abilities. She was so magical sometimes.

“What else?” she pressed on.

“Um,” he thought, “maybe get a bit more serious about school.”

“It’s the holidays,” she exclaimed, sounding scandalised, “even I’m not that bad.” Remus laughed.

“Not about schoolwork,” he explained, “I dunno maybe about what comes next. I don’t wanna end up stuck here,” he finished lamely.

“You won’t,” she reassured him softly. “Maybe we can look into Uni’s we might like, or even scholarship programs at fancy posh schools.”

“You’d do that with me?” he asked, blown away by his best friend’s selflessness.

“Of course,” she said without a thought, “we’re a package deal.” She whacked him gently with her free hand. “Plus, any program you get into, I need to get into as well. For posterity’s sake,” she said smartly. He chuckled.

“Ah, yes, of course,” he said, splashing her lightly, causing her to shriek.

“Dick!” she said angrily, and they both devolved into laughing again.

“What about getting drunk?” she said after they had both calmed down.

“What, right now?” he said incredulously. She laughed.

“No, no, stupid; Summer Bucket List.”

“Ah,” he said, understanding, “yeah that could be cool. We could knock off O’Brien’s.”

“Oh, so now we’re adding stealing to the list?”

“How else do you propose we get the alcohol?” he asked indignantly.

“Yeah, s’pose you’re right,” she acquiesced, “could probably do my parents’ liquor cabinet though.”

“Oh, you’re on your own for that one,” he said, “your parents scare the shit out of me.”

“Wuss,” she responded.

“Yup,” he said, “and proud.” She chuckled.

“So, we’ve got avoiding families, kissing, surfing, getting serious about our futures, and getting drunk,” she said, listing off on her fingers, “one of these is not like the other.”

“Hey, I never said I’m kissing anyone,” he retorted, “I’m perfectly happy with my busty angel,” he said, raising his hand where the faint outline could still be seen, causing Lily to snort with laughter.

“Okay, Casanova,” she said, grinning, “but, you don’t wanna kiss anyone? What about Mary?” Remus was surprised at this. He had honestly never considered kissing Mary.

“Nah,” he said, hoping he sounded more unbothered than he felt, “I like her though, I’d like to be friends with her.”

“Yeah, Mary’s great,” said Lily and Remus felt overwhelmingly thankful that she’d taken his response in her stride, “we should all do something together.”

“Like a party?” Remus asked, feeling slightly nervous.

“Lupin, darling, I don’t think four fourteen-year-olds getting drunk from my parents’ liquor cabinet constitutes a party.”

“Four?” he replied, “who else?”

“Marlene,” Lily said as though it were obvious, and Remus supposed it was. He was just glad she hadn’t said Snape.

“That sounds nice,” he smiled.

“Add it to the list!” she yelled with authority, and he laughed.

“I like the list,” he said thoughtfully, and he could feel Lily smiling at him.

“I like it too. Best summer ever?” she said, gripping his hand tightly.

“Best summer ever,” he promised, and everything else was swept away as they floated on the waves.

* * *