#Otters doing crime

[quohotos]

I really miss Adobe illustrator Draw. It was a free vector based app for android that could make some really cool images. The interface was limited, like you couldn't actually pick what resolution and canvas location it exported, but I still miss it. They shut it down a few years back, and the paid app they replaced it with isn't available on android. I have this cool phone with a pen and literally no software to use it with.

(oh yeah, and it's cloud based so even though I still have the app it's not usable)

[robertseanleonardthinker]

i've gotten used to the okbuddyvicodin ppl calling wilson a twink (he's not, but i'm used to it), but someone just tried to call chase an otter and i'm getting violent

new rule: straight people need to never talk abt gay people ever again

[pulex]

Commission for @pyroflame105 :D

[rockingbytheseaside]

✦ You are found guilty

(Neuvillette sentences you for your horrible crimes. That's it. sfw)

“It saddens me to announce this… But you leave me with no choice. I shall render the final verdict.” 

The Iudex of Fontaine stood before you, tall and regal with his imposing gaze of impartiality. With a solemn clearing of his throat, he prepared to deliver the ultimate decision. “In light of the evidence provided, and the gravity of your actions, I shall announce the final judgment.”

“N-no… Your honor, Please,” - you whispered, shaking your head in disbelief at what will come. Your hands came clasping together, a silent plea for mercy.

“According to the judgment of Oratrice Mecanique d'Analyse Cardinale…”

“I beg you, d-don’t.”

“... The court finds the defendant guilty.” 

The court fell silent, as the words of the Chief Justice echoed throughout the hall. The silent witnesses of your case were immobile, and no one was here to defend your sins. You clenched your fists, your gaze searching Neuvillette’s despairing one. 

“But monsieur, I am telling you, I am innocent. Look, I have a child!”

Another silence bestowed upon the room. Neuvillette cleared his throat and in the same eloquent tone of formality interjected. Although it took him a great deal not to break out of character - “My dear. For the last time, a four-foot Otter plushie cannot constitute adequate evidence of being a child.” 

You sulked. Had this been a true courthouse, the onlookers would have shaken their heads in disbelief at your feeble attempt to feign innocence. But there were no living spectators in this courthouse. In fact, you and your beloved were not even in the Opera Epiclese. In reality, it was the sanctuary of your home, and the so-called eyewitnesses were your countless pillows or plushies that blocked Neuvillette from hugging you at night when you monopolized the bed with them.

“After careful and thorough consideration, the court has determined that you shall be sentenced to... “ - Neuvillette paused for the dramatics. “An eternity of cuddles and kisses provided by the Iudex himself.”

“Have mercy on me, Neuvi. I used the Otter plushie as a pillow and fell asleep once, it’s not like I forgot to give you a goodnight kiss on purpose, honey.” 

But of course, your beloved would not let such deeds go unpunished. That’s how your life was with him, along with the endless ‘legal jokes’. Neuvillette's professional life demanded impartiality and severity in accordance with the law, but at home, in the comfort of your arms, all formality dissipated. For his sanity, he relished returning home where his need to physically bury his face onto your chest was systematic. All you need to do is either caress his silver hair, embrace him in bed, or give him a loving kiss - it doesn’t matter, he is already a puddle of a dragon in your arms.

However, dare to forget your nightly cuddles and it will rain heavily outside out of the blue.  

“I am afraid the decision is final, dear. No chance of parole, either.” - He sat beside you, arms warped around your form to envelop your face in much-needed kisses. He peppers gentle pecks on your cheeks, your forehead, your nose, anything to reach the quota of the skipped smooches you neglected him. 

“Aw, man. Not even on good behavior?”

“Absolutely not. The court renounces your plushie rights for the upcoming nights.”

It appears that if one yearned for a large Otter to embrace, they may have had one right by their side all along.

[deanbrainrotwritings]

— SEMPITERNAL

SUMMARY : part II of gimme half. vanilla is a basic flavour. but sometimes it’s just the right thing for mornings like this.  

PAIRING : dean winchester x fem!reader

CHARACTERS : none

WARNINGS/TAGS : explicit(18+), p in v, smut, unprotected sex, fluff

WORD COUNT : 2.2k

A/N : bring me the horizon song title. ah, the second day of January, getting closer to Dean’s bday, it will be the best day of my life or the worst. I have ocd (so does my mom) so idk what’s normal lmao Xxxx

It must have all been a dream. 

She would never go to her neighbour’s house. Not when they were supposed to hate each other. Not when it was freezing cold. Not at night. Not close to Christmas…

He was very pretty though, in her dreams. Still, so pretty. Irresistible. Hot. Frustrating. Adorable. A million lovely things. It felt very real. So real. 

His lips. All pink, warm, soft, and sweet. His hands. Rough, warm, calloused, and skilful. His skin. Freckled, covered in scars, tattooed, hot. God… she wanted that in reality, too. To feel it against every inch of her skin once more. She especially wanted what’s between his legs. 

Were her sheets always this cold? This thin and… not downy at all? 

If she could return to her dream. That would be nice. Making friends with her enemy, Dean… Well, making love is more what it was. Very rough, desperate, hot love. 

She grumbled sleepily, lifting the sheet up her body. Trying to get her arms warm, to stop the cold from getting through the openings. Something stopped her, something hard behind her, and she didn’t want to wake up. 

And wait… why was the window in the opposite direction? 

She rubbed her bleary eyes and looked around the unfamiliar room, the beige and white bed sheets that were definitely not hers. The pictures and posters on the walls were unfamiliar…

She sat up on the bed slowly and twisted her body cautiously to peek at whoever was sleeping beside her. 

Her eyes widened, her jaw dropped slightly. 

Dean. 

She shut her mouth and smiled, trying not to laugh at the events that occurred the night before. They were definitely not a dream. For her bravery, she deserved a treat. Maybe six.

He really did look pretty. 

Those muscular arms holding his pillow, skin freckled and lightly tanned. The sheets clung tightly to his hips, that tiny, narrow waist of his. So jealous. And… oh, God, he wasn’t wearing anything. 

His lips were parted slightly, pink and swollen from sleep, maybe from all the kissing they were doing the previous night. He had the prettiest lashes, so long, thick, curled naturally. What even was he? Those gorgeous freckles scattered across his nose and cheeks. His messy hair looked so soft. 

Peaceful. Relaxed. 

The sunlight made him look even more divine. Honey and gold, a verdant forest, a soft flower in a meadow. Springtime in the winter. That was Dean.

She looked around his room, she was completely naked. Some warm clothes and fluffy socks to keep the cold at bay would be nice. 

She opened his drawer to look for some socks, sliding the top drawer out. She blinked at the contents inside. A vibrating cock ring stood out from the other things inside, in rose pink. She chuckled. There were a few candy wrappers, jolly ranchers, unused condoms in the front, a steel gun over books. Cute. There were old movie tickets, a Bob Seger cassette tape, Crime and Punishment, Persuasion, The Lord of the Rings, and 11/22/63. He’s so hot.

She closed it quietly and opened the second one. One half had perfectly folded, plain black t-shirts and the other half had only white t-shirts. She pulled out a black shirt from the top and put it on carefully. She took a deep breath of the scent of the softener that remained and sighed. Yum.

She opened the third and final one. Finally socks. They were neatly organised, folded, tightly fitting in rows and columns. Blue penguin socks caught her attention, but so did the pink ones with otters, the purple ones with avocados, and the green ones with giraffes. Could he get any more endearing?

She picked the boring black ones at the back. What if the fun socks were special to him? 

She got out of his bed, walking quietly across his very cute bedroom, and into the bathroom. His very clean bathroom. 

She looked at her reflection in the mirror. Thank God for the shower she took with Dean last night. No raccoon face from her eyeliner this morning. But she was definitely sore. Good sore. 

He’s so… hospitable. And a billion other things, too many lovely things to list. She laughed quietly to herself, turning the water on in the sink to wash her face. 

Maybe she shouldn’t get too ahead of herself with these thoughts and feelings. Last night was fast, blurry, heated, and emotional. Things could change, she knew that better than anyone. Morning clarity. After sex clarity? Who knows.  

It would be impossible not to have marks over her body after the night they had. She turned the water off, gently shook her hands in the sink, and used the shirt to pat her face dry. Curiously, she kept the shirt up, and stared down at her body. 

There were bruises on her hips the shape of his fingers. And Reddish-purplish marks on her breasts, sternum, and stomach, even higher up on her collarbone. There were bite marks on her shoulders that stung to touch-

“Sorry about those,” Dean’s raspy morning voice made her jump. She dropped the shirt and crossed her arms over her chest, smiling timidly at Dean. She didn’t know why. After the hot night they had together, being seen naked the next morning should be the last thing to make her this flustered. 

“I’m not getting in the way of your secret escape, am I?” He changed the subject, teasingly smirking at her. He pushed himself off the doorframe. Unfortunately, he was wearing a soft grey robe tied loosely around his waist, some grey slippers, and his hair was a cute-slash-sexy mess. 

“No…” she replied softly, running her fingers through her somewhat messy hair. It still felt wet… maybe she should have stopped Dean from throwing her into his bed after their shower, but he seemed more than thrilled to bury his face between her legs. God, that stubble on his jaw felt amazing between her sensitive thighs. 

“Good,” he mumbled tiredly, smiling down at her. 

He was irresistible. She could already feel heat forming between her legs, wetness seeping from her entrance, and her heart pound quickly in the casket of bones the closer he got. 

Maybe it was those pretty green eyes of his, the burning fire in his gaze simmering deep within the golden specks. He checked her out from head to toe slowly, shamelessly, devouringly. Why would he have any shame after the night they had?

Her body reacted to him embarrassingly fast. Like two atoms, she ached to be fused together with him. Being in his presence just felt right. It felt fiery, more now than last night, more than when he was asleep. When he was asleep, he was more than adorable, but now… She wanted him on her again. 

Her skin burned like acid rain had dripped down over her body, but it was just his hungry eyes. It was the memory of his mouth, his tongue, his lips, and his teeth. All marking her, making her his own.

Her lungs ached for slower, deeper breaths as he sucked the oxygen from the room with that deep, husky voice of his. He left her breathless, with those soft eyes and tender smile.

All he did was put toothpaste on the brush he gave her last night. He smiled when he gave it to her, his fingers brushed against hers, like jumpstarting the dead battery of a car. 

She tried to hide the sharp inhale when she took the toothbrush from him by biting her lip. He seemed to like her reaction, a smile tugged at his lips, but he didn’t say anything. He didn’t need to and neither did she. 

She watched him do the same to his own toothbrush and slowly, wordlessly, he started to brush his teeth. 

“Cute cock ring,” she told him casually, and began brushing her own teeth. He almost spit out the toothpaste and saliva when he laughed, a very beautiful laugh that made her insides warm and melty like cheese in a burger, or butter on pancakes, or whipped cream on waffles. 

She was hungry. 

“You looked through my stuff,” he stated, a mouthful of toothpaste still in his mouth. He continued to brush his teeth, staring at her the whole time rather than looking into the mirror. His eyes were sparkling, and not just because of the cold winter sunlight. 

“I was cold,” she shrugged, then spit out what she had left before continuing to brush. He spit everything out at last, regarding her with a smirk. 

“Guess I shoulda been a better host.” Dean finished brushing his teeth and she did soon after as well, waiting for him to finish freshening up from the doorframe.

“You more than made up for it last night,” she grinned, catching the smirk on his face, the sudden dreaminess that washed over his green eyes. Her insides twisted excitedly and he finally looked at her with those soft verdurous eyes.

“Are you still cold?” He teased when he finished, reaching for her waist and gently tugging her forward, and away from the doorway. She shook her head ‘no’ and smiled up at him. “Too bad,” he hummed, biting his lip. “You chose boring socks,” he pouted, then leaned down to kiss her. 

She smiled against his lips. The kiss somehow felt more… warm than last night, and… well, like the birth of a star. Warmth bloomed in her chest, like a flower kissed by sunlight in the morning. It was like being reborn, like breathing the cleanest air.

“I was trying to be considerate,” she mumbled when he pulled away from her lips. He tilted his head with a confused smile, and moved her backwards, leading her back to his bed.

“Considerate?” Dean slowly lifted the shirt, his fingertips teasing her warm skin as he slid it up her body. 

“Read my mind,” she whispered, throwing the clean shirt on his desk when it was around her wrists above her head. 

“I don’t read minds,” he grinned down at her, pecking her lips. She hummed softly, amused just because he made her smile, and untied his robe. He humoured her anyway, staring at her as she climbed onto the bed, her soft hands moving up his torso slowly exploring, memorising, worshipping. “You… are so cute,” he teased, leaning forward to kiss her again. 

She pressed her lips against his, moaning quietly against his mouth. She pushed the robe off his shoulders and he threw it over the small, sage-coloured sofa he had placed by the window that was opened to her house. 

“That’s not reading my mind.” She buried her fingers in his hair and began crawling backwards, her warm tongue tracing his plump lips. He cursed softly against her mouth, kissing her back with as much force, and climbed up the bed with her.

“I told you,” he panted, lowering his body over hers once her head fell onto the pillows, “I don't read minds.” She pulled Dean down, closer to her, arms circled around his neck, legs parted for his hips to fit perfectly in between.

“I think you see through me,” she whispered, lapping at the red mark positioned on his pulse, making him moan softly. She couldn’t believe she felt insecure about it at first, but now, it was hot that he could read her, that he could figure her out in seconds. For however long he's been hunting, she had no doubt he was much more clever than he led on. 

“You think wearing a pair of what might be my favourite socks will make me… sad?” He tried, barely moving away from her mouth. She snickered upon releasing how ridiculous it sounded out loud, she nodded anyway.

“I’d be upset,” she shrugged, sliding her hands down his back, his taut muscles shifting beneath her hands. 

“Exactly why I said you’re cute,” he told her softly, rocking his hips against hers. She shook her head in denial, dragging her lips back up to his. His cock slid through her soaked folds, teasingly nudging her entrance, tortuously rubbing her clit. “You hungry?” He asked, leaning on one arm placed by her head.

“Dirty intent with that question?” She teased, nibbling his bottom lip. He laughed deeply, pressing his cock into her, slowly pushing in. 

“Wanted to make ya breakfast,” he huffed, moaning with her when he pulled out gently and pushed back into her warmth. “So… breakfast?” His hand travelled freely down her sides, tenderly brushing against the bruises on her skin. 

“Only if you’ll make me breakfast often,” she played quietly. With a husky moan, he slid his hands back up her sides, thumbing her sensitive nipples. He dropped his forehead to her shoulder, smiling at her words, the tightening of her walls around him taking him to the brink of delectable release and delirious insanity.

“Only if you’re mine,” he rasped, taking her wrist to slide his hand into hers, pressing it into the pillow, and above her head. 

“Yes,” she whispered, squeezing his hand, slipping her other hand into his hair. He lifted his face to stare into her sincere gaze, brought his freehand between their bodies to rub circles on her clit. 

“To breakfast or being mine?” Dean inquired, rolling his hips swiftly into her. She moaned and wrapped her legs around his waist, keeping him close, and drawing his lips closer with her hand clutching the short hair behind his head.

“Yes,” she murmured, drawing a soft laugh from him as she pressed a deep kiss to his warm lips.

➥ summer’s stellar gaze

taglist

@rominaszh @livingdeadmak @lanassmarty @murdockscumsock @zepskies @candy-coated-misery0731 @stxrgazer03 @epsilonsagittarii @lyarr24 @spnfamily-j2 @globetrotter28 @deansbbyx @lickmybawls @jackles010378 @winchstrdean @deanwinchestersgirl87 @the-achievementhunter @deanfreakingwinchester @k-slla @madzzz0797 @laylaackles @fanfic-n-tabulous @kristophalis @mrlonelycat @taylortots-world @evznackles @ohnosy @juicyballsworld

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© ALL RIGHTS RESERVED TO DEANBRAINROTWRITINGS 

do not steal, plagiarise, translate, or republish my work on another platform

[nonotnolan]

Rookie Mistake

“Yeah, I realized the other day that, like... I’ve spent the last five Sunday afternoons, like, completely blacked out,” he said, rubbing his hands as he spoke.  Dave, our next door neighbor, was telling my mother why he didn’t host his normal Saturday night party yesterday.  I had to admit I was not expecting that answer.  “I didn’t even think I had been drinking that much, but like... why else would that happen, y’know?"

Well, I knew exactly why he had been blacked out the past five Sundays-- I’d been using the spellbook I found in the attic to slip into his smoking hot body.  Look at his chest, can you blame me?  Dude has shoulders for days.  I’d hop into his body when my mom and her husband went out on their date night, and then I would download Grindr to score a few casual hookups with some eager twinks.  Being home from college over the summer sucked, and Dave’s body helped make it suck less.  It was a victimless crime-- or so I had thought.  

Honestly, I hadn’t even thought about what Dave would remember whenever I hopped into his body.  Total rookie mistake, but it could have been a lot worse.  As long as I stayed out of his body, his blackouts would stop, and no one would be any the wiser.  Dave excused himself and went back inside his house, while Mom and I finished up bringing the groceries inside.  Hopefully I didn’t look too guilty.

I took the spellbook down off my shelf, and pulled up Google translate again-- the damn thing was written in Latin.  The good news is that all of the spells were illustrated, so it was usually pretty clear what each spell would do.  The bad news is that a lot of the rules were written in small, cursive handwriting that the computer couldn’t read when photographed.  I was making decent headway translating word by word, but it was... tedious, to say the least.  Can you blame me for getting impatient?

The astral form spell I’d been using to possess Dave hadn’t said anything about memory loss, but I had also stopped translating after three paragraphs.  I’d already learned the important pieces, or so I had thought.  You can’t travel more than a quarter mile away from your body without risking permanent separation, your astral form could be blocked by wards or captured by soul snares, whatever the hell those were... and then the spell started talking about how it was really good for spying on your enemies.  Wouldn’t something like target memory loss be important enough to mention earlier?  I was livid, but it was ultimately my mistake for using a spell that I hadn’t fully translated.

I’d only made it through another half-paragraph before I got interrupted by a knock on my door.  “Sweetie, I just wanted to let you know that it’s just me going out tonight,” Mom said.  “Henry isn’t feeling well, so he’s going to stay behind and rest up, okay?  I know I don’t have to worry about you staying quiet for him while he sleeps.  See you tonight!”

I could scarcely maintain my excitement as I waited for the sound of my mother locking the front door.  Henry, my step-father, was a delicious otter of a man.  I hadn’t even considered the thought of taking over his body, but how could I resist an opportunity handed to me on such a silver platter?  And if he was planning on sleeping anyway, the memory loss issue didn’t matter!  Translating the rest of the spell could wait, I needed to seize this opportunity before it slipped away.  I made sure to clear off my bed, and position myself in a neutral posture before casting the spell-- the first time I used the spell and returned to my body, the crick in my neck took three days to fully heal.  Once my astral form had separated itself from my body, I flew as fast as I could to Henry’s sleeping form.

After all... just look at this man.  Henry is... he’s like gay candy.  Any time the three of us go out together, I don’t think he realizes how many skinny dudes can’t look away from him.  And for the next few hours, that would be me.  God, it was such a rush to think about that.  Can you blame me for getting excited?  Aside from the occasional dress pant, Henry never really wore anything that would display his bulge, so I wasn’t sure what sort of equipment I would be working with, but... now that it was in my hands, I was not disappointed.  So that was a ten minute detour.  I’m only human, after all.

My next order of business was to take some raunchy selfies and send them to my phone for some, uhh... future me time.  The problem was that the only rooms in the house with good lighting were also the rooms where Mom had already redecorated Henry’s house with floral wallpaper.  Seeing that in the background was just a total boner kill.  I’d have to use my room for photos.  I try to avoid seeing my lifeless body whenever I can-- it’s kind of unsettling-- but in this case, it was worth the discomfort.

I figured Henry’s strength would be more than enough to carry my body down to the living room couch, only... when I opened my door, the bed was empty.  The pit of my stomach sank to the floor as I stared at the impression in my bed sheets, the only remaining sign that my body had previously been resting there.  I started taking deep breaths, running my hands across my new chest fur as I tried to calm down.  If the astral form spell was going to cause my body to disappear, it would have happened before today.  The first step was probably to search the rest of the house, just in case anything else had been displaced.

I found my body outside, shirtless, smoking a cigarette on the patio.  He had to have heard me-- I certainly wasn’t quiet as I flung upon the back door-- but he didn’t even bother to look up at me.

“Who are you, and what are you doing in my body?” I said, trying to puff out Henry’s chest for maximum intimidation.

My body responded by blowing a cloud of smoke into my face.  “Get over yourself,” he said, taking another long drag.  “You grabbed my spellbook out of my attic, turned the next door neighbor into a meat suit, and now you have the gall to pretend that you’re the victim here?”

I tried to think of some sort of witty comeback, but my brain had completely frozen up.  “I... Henry?  Is that you in there?  What are you doing?”

“Watching you fall for the world’s most obvious trap,” he said, lording over me with a smug grin on his face.  He had me dead to rights, and we both knew it.  “Your mother hadn’t even finished pulling out of the driveway, and your horny ass was already trying to take over my body.  Good thing I had already started my own astral form before she left.  Mind you, I have ways of keeping unwanted spirits out of my body... but then we wouldn’t be having this delightful conversation, would we?

“Consider yourself busted,” he said, snuffing out the cigarette on the patio table.  “You’re going to spend the night here, pretending to be me while keeping to yourself under the guise of feeling sick.  I’m going to take your body out for a joyride tonight, same as you did to Dave.  We’ll switch back in the morning.  No funny business, or you’ll learn first hand why I no longer need to use a spellbook to cast magic.”

“Y-yes, sir,” I said, nodding my head.  Seeing Henry inside of my lanky body with his arms crossed, it looked catty rather than intimidating.  All the same, I was not about to try and mess with him any further.  Better to take the L here.  “Hey, uhh... after tonight’s punishment... do you... do you think you could teach me how to use that spellbook?”

Henry paused, sizing me up and down with his eyes before speaking.  “Me, teaching you?  After a rookie mistake like this?  Not on your life.”

[idkfitememate]

This is how I imagine the raccoon!creator trial.

Raccoon!Creator (in raccoon language) : I WAS FORCED TO DO IT ! IT WAS STANDING HERE ASKING FOR BEING STOLE !

Neuvillette, don't knowing what the raccoon is saying but acting like if he do : hum.. yeah, i totally understand-

Otter!Creator, knowing what raccoon!creator is saying : *laugh like a traitor.*

Raccoon!Creator : DON’T LAUGH ! YOU'RE THE ONE WHO HAD ASK ME TO STOLE THE ORATRICE !

Otter!Creator, still laughing : I was joking !-

Furina, not knowing what is so funny and why a raccoon is being judge rn.

Lyney, looking at that like a movie : they should have done popcorn for that trial.

Lynette acquiesces without paying attention to what his brother says, preferring to watch the trial.

Freminet, questioning his whole life and how, on the Archons, a RACCOON HAVE DONE THAT MANY CRIMES-

Navia, with popcorn : Whoa, it's better than a movie.

Her body guards agreed.

Paimon, stealing Navia popcorn : yeah.

Aether, knowing the raccoon is one of the creator (i like to think that the descendants [or what they are call in english] know there is a lot of creators and can recognized them.) : Oh shit... Please tell me they won't go at Metropides-

Charlotte, sitting next to Aether : why ?

Aether : Because they will burn the place.

The Oratrice/Foçalors telling the raccoon is sentenced to Metropides because she finds it funny.

---

Wriothesley, looking at the raccoon in front of him : so you will stay at Metropides.

Raccoon!creator, playing with their vocal cords to speak humans : "With you ?"

Wriothesley : yea- WHAT THE FUCK-

You know the meme where a cat is jumping in front of a cucumber ? The cat is Wriothesley and the cucumber Raccoon!Creator.

-🦝anon

You. You understand the joys that would come with a criminal Raccoon. One who may even be worse than the Harbingers. But they can’t prove shit.

Cause they’re a Raccoon.

What are those low life humans gonna do.

Heheh ໒꒰ྀི˶˃ᆺ˂˶ ꒱ྀིა

[whatevertheweather]

Okay, hi, happy Sunday and new year and whatever else. Thank you for the tags @you-remind-me-of-the-babe @artsyunderstudy @iamamythologicalcreature @ileadacharmedlife <3

So, I'm not one for resolutions, but I did set some writing goals that are mostly do with original writing but do also include me shaking myself by the shoulders and demanding that I finish and post three particular fics this year. To that end, here is something from the last chapter of Musical Chairs, which is first on my list for finishing and kicking out of the nest.

Shepard inclined his head, though most of his expression was devoted to frowning. “That’s literally the bare minimum of what you’ve asked of me.” He huffed and squared his shoulders. “You gave me a two-item list, and I won’t fail you.” “I gave you a three-item list, and you’ve already failed me.” “First, like, how dare you, and also, second, what have I failed?” Baz gestured grandly at himself and raised his eyebrows. “The removal of my consciousness from the mortal plane.”

And you know what, here's another beneath the cut for good luck.

Baz glanced around the table, but no one was paying attention to them. Agatha had turned toward the bar to lure Niamh and Penny back over by holding up a shot and pointing at it, and Simon was backing her up by throwing his arms up and waving them around. It was a monumentally stupid gesture on both their parts, and it was a crime against God and more importantly Baz that they still managed to look unattainably perfect while they did it. Baz shook his head and turned back to Shepard. “Are you matchmaking?”  Shepard gave a quick little shrug, excitedly clinking his shot glass against Baz’s. “For now I’m screening.”

Now tags and hellos!

@fatalfangirl @moodandmist @cutestkilla @whogaveyoupermission @facewithoutheart @martsonmars @forabeatofadrum @run-for-chamo-miles @bookish-bogwitch @aristocratic-otter @nightimedreamersworld @youarenevertooold @ivelovedhimthroughworse

[crazyunsexycool]

Is it a crime?

Chapter 10

Pairing: mob boss!Bucky Barnes x Mob Boss!Reader

Word count: 2.6k

Warning: a bit dialogue heavy, Bucky being annoying trying to get Reader’s attention 🤭, talks of a fire, gunfire, the plot is plotting, Reader is pissed at the beginning.

A/N: it took me forever to get this chapter done. It was difficult but I’m very excited for the direction this series is headed. I promise I have more to come now that this chapter is over with. Next chapter will bring the good stuff.

Series Masterlist

“I asked you to do your damn job Roque and look at what happened? Where the fuck were you?” You ask in a rage as you wave your hand toward the burnt down store that is under our protection. “What was so fucking important that you couldn’t do your job?” 

“I was at another one of our locations when this happened. I’m sorry.”

“Well fucking fix it.” You snap.

“Yes ma’am.” Was all Roque replied before you got back into the waiting SUV.

It had been 24 hours since Pierce had given you his warning and he was starting his attack. You knew you needed to hit back. So that hydra and anyone that thought they could come for you knew you weren’t here to play games.

“Everything ok?” Pooch asked from the driver’s seat. He looked at you through the rear view mirror. 

“Just peachy. Take me to the club.”  

****

Clay was waiting for you outside of the club, a folder in his hand. When the car pulled up he opened the door for you and silently held the documents out for you to take. Pooch drove away while you walked and looked over what you had in your hand. Neither of you said a word as you moved through the empty club. It was relatively quiet except for the few people cleaning and preparing for when the club opened later on. It was only when you were in your office with Jake having joined you that you finally spoke.

“You think we can take control of this place?” You asked as you looked up at Clay. He was the one to always come up with the plans and you trusted him. 

“I wouldn’t be bringing it up if we couldn’t.”

“So you already have a plan in place?” 

He nods and smirks. 

“You’ve seen this already?” You look at Jake.

“Yup. I’ve already been working on how to take over the security system so that we can get as much time in there as possible before hydra realizes what’s going on.” 

“We’ll need back up though. We aren’t enough.” 

“What are friends for?” Clay asks, referring to Steve and the others. 

“I’ll talk to them. Let me know when you’re done with your part and we’ll coordinate the attack. The sooner the better.” 

“You got it boss.” Jake says but doesn’t get up. He looks over to Clay before looking back at you.

“What is it JJ?”

“The fire from last night… I checked the footage. It was hydra.” 

“I know it was. Roque is working on it. This is his responsibility.” 

“If you say so.” Jake mutters.

“I do, why? He was working with you first. Are you doubting him?”

“Not at all.” Clay shakes his head. “But wouldn’t he be better as an enforcer?”

“I have him just where I need him. If he doesn’t live up to my expectations I’ll move him. Is that all?” 

“Yeah, we’ll leave you to it.” Jake says as both he and Clay get up.

“Oh, one more thing.” Clay lays another folder on your desk. “That hotel that skirts the hydra territory is up for grabs and so are 3 of the 4 restaurants. I already made an offer on all of them. All you have to do is look through the contract.” 

“Thanks. I’ll get this back to you as soon as I can.” 

Clay nods and exits the office. You grab your phone and call the one person you need to talk to.

“Hey otter. How have you been?”

“Hey Steve, I need to talk to you and Sam. I’m going to need back up.”

“Making your first move on Pierce?”

“Yeah.”

“Count us in.” He says, sounding very sure of himself.

“You don’t even know what I’m going to do.”

“I don’t need to know. We’ve got your back.”

“Meet me at the club anyway. I want to go over some things.”

“You got it, see you later.” 

“Thanks.” 

You were watching the dancefloor from the second floor. Bodies moving in sync with the music. People were drinking and some were buying the drugs your people were selling. There was a line out the door that almost wrapped around the block. Overall business was good but this wasn’t enough. You couldn’t waste anymore time on trivial things, this was the time to actually hit Pierce where it hurt. 

Through the crowd you saw Steve and Sam make their way toward one of the stairs. You wanted to punch Steve when you saw that right behind him was Bucky. There was no reason for him to be here. When the trio finally stops at your side you’re glowering at them. 

“Before you say anything, I told him not to come.” Sam lifts his hands in surrender as he clears his name. 

“I’m only here to take Pierce down. It’s been a long time coming.” 

You narrow your eyes in Bucky’s direction. It was obvious he hadn’t slept in days but that shouldn’t matter to you. He has a fiancee and a baby on the way. He wasn't your problem. Steve pulls you aside to have a more private conversation.

“Look I know you’re pissed at him and I get it. But right now your focus is Pierce and you’re going to need all the help you can get. We know Pierce and his moves better than your people. So put aside your issues with Buck and let him help. He has been working nonstop to be prepared for this moment.” 

“Fine, but he’s your responsibility.” You poke his chest and turn to walk to your office. 

****

“So what’s the plan?” Bucky asked before taking a sip of his whiskey. 

You ignored the way his eyes were raking over your figure and the way he bit his lip. Instead you sat at your desk and focused on Steve. 

“I’m breaking into Pierce’s office. We know he still does most of his work on paper which means most of his files are on paper. After having the building under surveillance we’ve found the time it’s the most empty, we hit then. I want you inside with me since we know more about how hydra operates and my guys will be on perimeter security.”

“We can have the howlies in the getaway vehicles. It would be a more efficient escape if something were to happen.”

“What do you think Steve, Sam?” You ignore Bucky’s statement. 

Sam and Steve give each other an amused look. 

“I think it’s a good idea. We can have the howlies in getaway cars just in case something happens.” Steve says.

“If you trust them then sure that works.” 

Bucky rolls his eyes.

“When do you want to do this?”

“Tomorrow night.” 

“Tomorrow night it is.” Sam nods in approval.

Steve and Sam get up to leave but Bucky stays in his seat. 

“You’re forgetting something.” You tell them and wave in Bucky’s general direction. 

“Ouch,” Bucky clutches his chest. “You wound me, Bug.” 

“I’m tolerating your presence for the sake of taking down Pierce. Don’t push it.” You stare daggers at him. 

“Let’s go Buck.” Steve moves to pull Bucky with him. 

“I have very important information that I have to discuss in private.” 

“Fine, tell Steve and Steve will tell me. You can go.” 

“I feel like I’m at the principal’s office.” 

“Steve, please.” You looked up at your friend and silently begged him to deal with Bucky. Which he did happily because he was getting on everyone’s nerves. 

You sagged back into your chair once they were gone. While it’s better to have people you trust help, you couldn’t help and worry that Bucky would be a distraction. With a sigh you got back to work going over some more contracts and your plan one last time.

It was the middle of the night. You stood in an alley, the shadows hiding you from streetlights as you stared at the office building ahead of you. A cloud of smoke invades the air starting from behind you and you can’t help but turn around and snatch the cigarette out from between Bucky’s lips. 

“Will you stop being an ass? This is serious.” You snap at him.

“I’m being serious.”

“James, you’re being annoying and I know you’re doing it to get a reaction out of me but this,” You point to the building behind you. “Is important to me and if you actually care about me you’ll stop trying to distract me. Can we put aside this bullshit between us? I don’t care about that right now, we need to focus.” 

Bucky takes a deep breath and nods. “You’re right.”  He steps into your personal space and he takes it as a good sign that you don’t immediately pull away from him. “I’ve got your back no matter what. We’ll finish this together. But when this is over I’ll make things right between us because I just got you  back. I’m never letting you go again, no matter what it takes.” 

There was a fire in his eyes that was fueled by determination that had a shiver running down your spine. You’d heard that tone before and once he’s used it there was no way to persuade him to do anything other than what he’d just say he’d do. 

You turn back around and wait for Jake’s signal. After a few more minutes you get the go ahead. Bucky goes before you. He was quick and silent on his feet. You follow close behind. The door was already unlocked for you by Jake. Inside you see Sam, and Steve at the other end of the hallway. 

“We have to be quick.” You whisper to Bucky. “Pierce’s office is upstairs. Sam and Steve are going to Rumlow’s office.”

Bucky gives a quick nod and heads to the stairwell. He opens the door and lets you walk through first. You both ascend quickly, keeping in mind that you could be caught at any minute. When you both finally get to the floor where Pierce’s office is you take a moment to catch your breath. With your hand on your gun you open the door and take a look down the hallway. You nod to Bucky and he moves in first, his gun in his hand ready to use if needed. 

“Come on, we’re running out of time here.” He mutters as his steps quicken. 

****

In Pierce’s office you and Bucky both search through his bookshelves, filing cabinets and desk. With expert precision you pick the lock of every drawer. Jake had give each of you a small handheld scanner so that you could make a digital copy of the documents you needed. 

“You got everything?” Bucky asks in a whisper. 

“Almost. I know he always keeps a fake bottom in his desks. Give me a second.” 

You search through his desk drawers, carefully putting everything back in its place. 

“C’mon, c’mon. I know there has to be one in here.” You mutter to yourself. 

“We have to move.” 

You ignore Bucky as you check the last drawer. The panel gave way easily. 

“Yes. I found it.” 

You pull up the slim piece of wood and look through the documents. Way down at the bottom a file catches your eye. You bypass everything else and pull it out. It’s pretty thick and when you give the first page a glance you find your parents' names on it. 

“Hey, hurry the fuck up.” Bucky snaps and you glare at him from behind the desk. 

As quickly and carefully as you can you place everything back in the drawer. You tuck the file into your jacket and head towards the door. From the slightly distant look in your eyes Bucky knows something’s wrong. 

“What did you find?” 

“I don’t know yet. But let’s get out of here.” You move to open the door but Bucky pulls you into his chest. 

“Guards.” He whispers in your ear. 

Bucky keeps a firm grip around your waist and you know he’s relishing having you so close. You can feel his chest pressed up against your back, his mouth on the shell of your ear. 

“You and I need to talk.” He whispers.

“I have nothing to talk about with you.” 

Bucky spins you around and pushes you against the wall, caging you in his arms. 

“You may have nothing to say to me but I do. So you can just sit there and listen. I’m not going to lose you again Y/N. I’m going to figure out what little game Dot is playing at and I’m going to fix it.” 

You don’t look at him and just give a little noncommittal hum. 

“Dammit, why do you have to be so stubborn.” Bucky whisper yells. “What do I have to do for you to believe me?” 

“Maybe give me some fucking time. You’ve been doing nothing but invading my space since your fiancé announced your little bundle of joy.”  

Bucky sighs and pulls back. You turn and check the hallway then slip out of the office and head toward the stairs. As quickly and quietly as you walked in, you leave. It wasn’t until you were at the door that you heard shuffling behind you. 

“Hey, don’t move.” You heard the guard’s rushed footsteps as he headed towards you. 

Bucky pushes you out the door and you hear a gunshot. Panic grips you but a second later he strolls out. A car pulls up and Bucky opens the door and rushes you into it before sliding in beside you. He tells whoever’s driving where to go and you just sit there. Your phone rings a few seconds into the drive.

“Everything ok? I heard a gunshot.” Jake asks.

“Yeah, we’re good. Did everyone else make it out?” 

“Yeah. I’m sending the team in to take care of the body, everything should be fine.” 

“Thanks JJ.” 

“You got it boss. I’ll send you all of the information once I’ve sorted through it.” 

“Good. I’ll see you later.” You say before hanging up.

“What did you find?” 

“I’m not sure yet.” You murmur as you pull out the file from where you had tucked it. “I feel like I’m not going to like it.” 

Bucky leans in to try and see what was written in the documents but you closed it before he could see anything.

“Really? Can’t trust me with whatever’s in there?” 

“It has nothing to do with you. When and if I feel like it I’ll share what I found.” You turn to look at him expecting him to object. “Space, remember.”

“Ok. Whatever you say.” 

You sat in your office alone after you had a meeting with Sam, Steve and your team. It was agreed upon that you would wait for Jake to finish sorting through everything before getting together and figuring out next steps. The file you had found on your parents sat on your desk. You toyed with the cover before finally opening it again. There was a pit forming in your stomach, you just knew you wouldn’t like what you’d find between those pages. The phone rings, starling you out of your del thoughts. 

“Hello.” 

“Boss.”

“Roque, I’m glad to be hearing from you.” You say as you lean back into your chair. 

****

“Yeah, about earlier. It’s done.” Roque informs you.

“Good. I knew I could count on you and I’m sorry for snapping at you the way I did.” 

“Don’t worry about it. Talk to you later princess.” Roque says and hangs up before walking back into the bar he had stumbled upon. 

“So do we have a deal?” 

“I want thirty percent of what we take if I’m going to do this.” 

“Thirty? Are you insane?” 

“I’m the one risking my life here. If she finds out I’m as good as dead.” Roque argues back. 

“Fine, you can get thirty. Welcome to Hydra.” Rumlow holds out his hand, smiling when Roque takes it. “Pleasure doing business with you.”

“No, the pleasure's all mine.” Roque smiles as he picks up his drink.

Ch. 11

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[thosehallowedhalls]

Home Without, Part 3

Book: Crimes of Passion

Pairing: M!Trystan Thorne x Emma Rose (F!MC)

Rating: Teen

Word count: ~2500

Summary: After their too brief reunion, Emma is headed back to New York. Will they cut off all contact again or will they find a way to remain in each other's lives?

A/N: One more part to go after this one! And, er, I apologize in advance.

Series masterlist

Emma testifies in court the next morning. It isn’t her first time being a witness, but she makes sure to be extra prepared. Vasili isn’t getting away with either murder - or with framing Trystan - on her watch.

Nonetheless, she doubts that this trial is anything more than a formality. Not only is Queen Viktoria convinced of his guilt, but they also have a roomful of Thornes ready to testify that Vasili admitted to everything. Most of the Thornes are in it for their own benefit, of course. But still.

When she’s done, Trystan asks her to leave with him.

“Shouldn’t we stay here? What if they need us?”

“They won’t. I testified two days ago, and you’ve already been questioned by the prosecution and cross-examined by the defense. Besides, if they need us, we’ll be a ten-minute drive away.”

“But don’t you have other things to do?” She insists even as he takes hold of her elbow and steers her along. “You’re kind of a big deal around here.”

“I would, but I cleared the next three days.”

She stops dead in her tracks. Trystan merely tugs a little harder. “You’re kidding.”

“My darling detective, do I look like the kidding type?” He raises an imperious hand when she opens her mouth. “Rhetorical question. I don’t know why you’re surprised. Didn’t we say we’d make the most of our days together?”

She waits until she’s sure the privacy partition is safely in place. “I didn’t realize that meant you were going to cancel everything. Aren’t you supposed to be ruling a country or something?”

“Drakovia is getting the rest of my life,” he says, a hint of bitterness peeking through. “It can give me three days.”

Her heart does a long, slow roll. “Trystan.”

His hand finds hers, but he doesn’t answer. Emma clears her throat. “Where are we going?”

“To one of my favorite places in Drakovia.” He gives her a sidelong glance. “The last place I visited before I was exiled.”

When she sees the zoo, she thinks she understands. She squeezes his hand. “It’s beautiful. Have you come here since you’ve been back?”

“Only once. It… wasn’t what I remembered.”

“What do you mean?”

“I usually came alone. It was my way of destressing.” He takes a deep breath, searching for the right words. “I enjoyed the solitude. I got so little of it; it was a relief to come here and be completely alone.”

“It is pretty empty.” She looks around. “Make that completely empty. Shouldn’t there be more people? It’s Friday.”

“There would be if I hadn’t told the director to clear the building.”

“That’s… rude, actually.”

He laughs. “You know, other people would think it was romantic.”

“Two things can be true. What about the people who made plans to come here today?”

“They can choose any other day.” A muscle goes off in his cheek. “We only have three days, Emma. I intend to make them count.” He holds out a hand. “Shall we?”

She looks him in the eye. Then she puts her hand in his. “Let’s. Tell me, what’s your favorite thing about this place?”

“That would be the otter enclosure.”

She gasps. “Otters? There are otters here?”

Trystan laughs again. “I knew it. Come on, let me show you.”

“So, you always came alone.”

They’re sitting on the edge of the pool, watching the otters play and somersault together under the clear June sky. Part of Emma is so delighted that she feels like a little kid. But the rest of her, most of her, zeroes in on what he was going to say.

“Hm?”

“Earlier, you said that you always came alone.”

“Yes. It gave me a chance to escape from all the people. All the expectations. A week after you left, I came here, hoping that at least this one part would be the same. But it wasn’t.” He turns intense eyes on her. “I didn’t want to be alone this time. I wanted to be with you.”

Her heart in her throat, she shakes her head. “Trystan…”

“I know. I just…” He trails a finger down her cheek. “I wish things were different.”

“So do I.”

Their gazes hold, a hundred unsaid things passing between them. But neither dares to vocalize them.

“How is the agency?” He asks finally. She isn’t sure if he’s changing the subject or trying to fulfill his longing for his old life. Maybe it’s both.

“Busy. Mafalda is talking about hiring somebody else. You know, to pick up the slack.”

“In other words, to replace me.”

“To fill an empty position.” She nudges him. “There is no replacing you.”

“Funny, I’ve been thinking the same thing about you.”

It’s a dangerous path to trod, but she can’t help herself. Perhaps she doesn’t want to. “Oh? How long have you been thinking this?”

“Since about one point five seconds since you got into that plane, so… a little over two months.”

“That long, huh?”

“Actively, yes. But I knew you were irreplaceable when you attempted to defeat me that first day, so maybe I should say four months.”

“Attempted? Please. I won fair and square.”

“You keep telling yourself that.” He exhales. “God, I’ve missed talking to you.”

“Me too. Have you… not had anyone to talk to here?”

“Well, there’s Mags, of course. But for all that she’s brilliant…”

“She’s still your little sister?”

He shakes his head. “She’s not you.”

Emma takes a deep breath. They can’t go further down this road. She’s already let herself venture deeper into it than she should have. “I understand the royal mascot is here as well?”

He gives her a knowing look but doesn’t call her out on the obvious attempt to change the subject. “That would be Orlenna, yes. This way.”

The next two days fly by.

Emma has never wished she could stop time as much as she does now, but that only seems to make it pass all the faster. Although they spend a good deal of their time with Ruby and Luke, Trystan whisks her away for at least a couple of hours every day. They visit the woods again, and he shows her all the places he used to sneak away to as a kid. A maze outside the opera house, a tower in the cathedral, a couple of cafés. The nights they always spend lost in each other.

Still, this time, beautiful as it is, is tinged by melancholy. The knowledge that these are the last days they’ll ever spend together looms large, casting a pall on every moment. They’re both careful not to acknowledge it – if there’s a thing they’re both good at, it’s dancing around the edges of a conversation.

Inevitably, the day comes when Trystan escorts them to the airport.

He's chatting with Luke and Ruby, and he's doing a great job of pretending not to feel anything but mild regret at seeing his friends go. But Emma, for all her training, can’t bring herself to fake cheeriness.

Then again, nobody ever expects cheeriness from her.

“You must be pretty busy now that we’re leaving,” Ruby says. “Don’t think we haven’t noticed you basically took three days off to show us around.”

Emma feels the weight of Trystan’s gaze on her before he answers the question. “Oh, you know. Meetings to attend, ribbons to cut, pets to knight. Nothing of any real consequence.”

“I’m pretty sure,” Emma cuts in, “that there’s a little bit more to ruling a country than meetings and ribbons.”

“My parents are the ones ruling. I’m just an apprentice.”

“When does the big upgrade kick in, anyway?” Luke asks. “On your coronation, the bishop said that your father will be abdicating when he hits sixty-five. It can’t be much longer.”

It feels like being punched in the solar plexus.

“Oh, not for a while just yet. How about I buy you a coffee? You three can’t face a twelve-hour flight without caffeine.”

“I’m sure we can manage,” Emma says lightly. “But don’t leave us in suspense. When can we say our friend the prince is our friend the king?”

A pause. Then, “Five weeks.”

The sudden drop in the pit of her stomach makes no sense. Trystan as king won’t be any more out of reach than Trystan as crown prince. But for some reason, it gives their separation a sense of finality that she isn’t ready for. “Well, we’ll get to say we knew you when.”

Ruby chimes in. “Oh! Look at that! They sell… what did you call it, Trystan? Belladi? Luke, we need to try it.”

She drags him away, leaving Trystan and Emma alone. With the small portion of her brain that isn’t wholly caught up in him, Emma files that away for further thought. It’s unfortunately clear that Ruby knows more than she thought.

The two remain silent, gazing at each other, until Trystan speaks. “Do you want me to keep you up to date on how the trial is going?”

They both know that she can easily search for updates online if she’s so inclined. She opens her mouth to say so, but what comes out is something else entirely. “I’d appreciate that. Thanks.”

She knows, even as she says the words, that she’ll come to regret them.

Being back in New York is different this time. Trystan texts her once a day, telling her who has testified and how it went. Within a week, he sends her the text she’s been waiting for.

She puts the phone down with mixed feelings. It’s a relief to know that Vasili has been convicted. But… the trial was her last link to Trystan. Now that it’s over, she doesn’t have a reason to stay in touch with him. And she has to get used to not having him in her life all over again.

Until her phone chimes the next afternoon. Her heart leaps when she sees the sender. She considers not answering, but... Well, who is she kidding?

The following morning, feeling herself on the verge of screaming, she picks up her phone before she can second-guess herself. She needs to talk to someone.

No. She needs to talk to Trystan.

An unspoken agreement passes between them. From then on, they stop pretending that the texting has anything to do with the trial.

Two days later, there's another text.

The tone of the texts is always lighthearted, and they’re both careful not to talk about them, both somehow aware that they're walking a tightrope that requires a delicate balance.

Which is why she’s so surprised when she receives a particular text on a Saturday afternoon.

Their communication ends after that. She doesn't understand what brought this on in the first place. Trystan seemed as eager as she was to keep their conversations platonic, regardless of whatever… undertone they couldn’t fully keep out of them. However unspoken the understanding, they've both always known it was either keep it friendly or end all contact.

It's her own fault, she thinks, for thinking they could ever be just friends. He wants more. She wants more. But regardless of their feelings, their circumstances remain unchanged. This was always going to happen.

Even as she begins to grieve their relationship yet again, she can't help but wonder why it happened so abruptly. What changed?

She gets her answer less than 24 hours later.

Emma’s waiting in line for coffee, when the group of women behind her makes the bottom drop out of her stomach.

“I can’t believe this guy went from exiled prince to king-to-be. Talk about a glow-up.”

“Well, he was framed. Looks like he deserves it.”

Another woman snorts. “Yeah, poor little rich boy. I’ll be exiled too if it means I can live the high life in a Manhattan penthouse.”

When the friends leave, Emma walks to the magazine stand they were browsing. There, on the cover of People, is a picture of Trystan with a beautiful woman in regal clothes. The headline knocks the breath out of her.

Trystan Thorne is engaged!

[the-wolfbats]

thoughts on [The] Taggerung

This is very long because I'm very torn on it. When it's good it's very great but it fails in its original twist.

All my favorite Abessess are dead 🫥. Well except Lycian I guess. 

Here's something never mentioned - outside of Germaine's tomb, where are the Abbesses buried? Just by the vegetables to replenish the soil I guess. 

I may be wrong but this may be a new art style for the chapters and only for this book. It may never be seen again in another story because I don't remember seeing it again (disclaimer - I get the ebooks and not all come with art) Pity, it's like the Marlfox art but with less sketchy lines. It's nice!

You've heard their names, everybeast has. Cluny the Scourge, Slagar the Cruel, Ferahgo the Assassin and many others. All of them defeated and slain. Redwall is so powerful, it killed someone who never tried to conquer it or even entered Mossflower Country!

See they mention Vulpuz! There’s a demon entity! AWESOME

Once again we have a great concept that's kneecapped bc of the strict dichotomy these species have. You can find fanfictions on the Redwall wikia where people have played with the concept of “good” species who are raised in evil (or in my 25 chapter fanfictions case, suffered a head wound and turned into vermin) and actually kill and commit crimes. We can't even give Tagg the vermin dialect. There's nothing to deconstruct here. 

Sometimes he had admired Sawney, his strength, leadership and determination, but he had never really liked the ferret, never called him lather, never loved him. No internal conflict. If this had been written earlier, I'm sure we would have gotten a little. This is why Nimbalo is a better character because he has been changed bc of the abuse he suffered and is unlike most mice in the series.  

The hares are wildly hit and miss for me. Scarum was annoying. Boorab is delightful. 

We see the flatlands north of Redwall to the mountain. It's nice, lively, not as weird southern desert like where the ravine and Loamhedge is. 

This may be the only book in the series with an actual theme beyond good vs evil, in terms of family. The ones you pick, are born into, are forced into, you lose, you leave, you make. You see it in the Obvious but then you see it with instances like how Boorab and Filorn are peas in a pod or how Fwirl (who is a rarity as an actual active female character who is noted as pretty doing things beyond healing) joins the Abbey, and Mhera supporting Cregga all this time. 

Actually most of the redwall characters genuinely grow and learn something you don't often see in these books. It helps that it's not a huge cast, like in Loamhedge, the Bellmaker is killed early and they never name the man again. Broggle learned confidence, Fwirl and Nimbalo learned to rely on others, Filorn learned acceptance,  Alkanet isn't shamed for being stern but grows to be flexible , Mhera did the typical Abbess MasterClass speed run. 

One of the chapter arts suggests that Nimbalo is much smaller than Tagg. He stated to be a harvest mouse, when the non denomination mice of Mossflower are a bit more in scope with otters. 

We need more Forthrights. 

The actual drama of Tagg finally being back at Redwall but them not knowing he's the missing babe Deyna is very good and I appreciate how the reunion is delayed and not rushed through. There's a real sense of anticipation, and for my big critiques about the idea not having any follow through, this is probably the best 3rd act of any Redwall book. Maybe only Mossflower is better. 

Somehow I thought Ruggan Bor just...walked away when Deyna said the Taggerung wasn't at Redwall lmao WHY did I think this.

Another point; You know how I said squirrels don't have a subculture like the other animals? There are very few, if any, shrews without a subculture , they're either Guosim or Pigmy Shrews.

There's a sliding scale of sapiency with some animals. Woodpidgeons don't talk, so they can be eaten. Other birds do, so they don't get eaten, even if that's the intent of the villains. Most lizards are sapient but some like Firl in Mariel don't talk. So when rawback was trapped in the swamp, did he go insane by eating talking lizards and frogs? Basically one out of two mentions and depictions of cannibalism in the series?

While there's a humongous missed opportunity with Tagg as a character, this can very solidly sit in my top 5. 

[blueskittlesart]

I know some people are going to think I sound like an asshole here, but Tumblr's moderators are at least somewhat responsible to the absolute explosion of TERFs, and the fact that people keep acting like this site cares about trans women when all the vile TERF hate speech I report gets responded to by staff with "it doesn't break TOS, why don't you try blocking them instead!" is... incredibly disheartening as a trans woman myself.

Obviously I can't stop people acting like Tumblr is a completely perfect site, but some people here really need to do some critical thinking about if these guys actually give a shit about us outside of getting our money

no yeah they totally are. remember when that one blog got deactivated within like HOURS for the crime of pointing out that a staff member was openly a h/arry p/otter fan? they know what they’re fucking doing. there are terfs on their fucking staff and they don’t care. they are openly refusing to purge hate speech from their site. we know they are capable of it. they deactivated my blog last year with no warning for HAVING TOO MANY INACTIVE URLS but deactivating blogs actively posting hate speech is too hard for them???? it’s fucking obvious at this point that the only thing they care about is maintaining as many active users as possible for financial gain regardless of the actual impact on the site’s environment.

[some-kind-of-creature]

Masterpost!

Do I have enough stuff to do such a post? Maybe? Maybe not? :D

I will do one anyway!

~~~~~~~~

There is probably more stuff, that I just didn't tag properly before, if I somehow find more, it will get added to this post!

~~~~~~~~

The drawings I posted

Just two coworkers working on something probably very important DC

Batman & Superman

Fanart of stealingyourbones

The culinary crimes had to be drawn :D

Fanart of bloggerspam 1 and 2

The top cupboard saga :D

LBM Pixel Art DP

Danny being in the Zone DP

Cosmic Latte DPxDC

Drawing for a Dead on Main Coffee Shop AU, which I will maybe some day finish writing :D

A short snippet of said Coffee Shop AU can be found >here<

~~~~~~~~

Post in which I wrote something :D

Some short, some quite long

They have to be forgotten DPxDC

The LOA has many rules, one of them is that those that died would have to be struck from their records as well as their memories.

How would Damian have known that he should have told his father about his dead sibling.

We are probably never meeting again after this DPxDC

They did in fact meet again after this... and again... and again... and (can you guess it?) again...

Until they suddenly stop meeting

Death Defying / Danny/Dick

Ghost-ABO DPxDC

Omegaverse-esque Liminals and Realms.

Good Fenton Parents, Bad US Healthcare CEOs DP

The reveal went right, and the Fentons go into the business of affordable Healthcare, after they decide they don't want to make weapons anymore. Queue the assassins.

Bruce favorite child: Danny? DPxDC

Before the Fentons moved to Amity Park, they lived in Gotham and Danny & Dick became the best of friends.

Many years later, Bruce gets asked who his favorite child is during an interview, panics and says Danny, who is in fact not his child.

Possible Death Defying / Danny/Dick

Not a story

A talk about DP, Lichtenberg figures and otters

~~~~~~~~

Tags I use for stuff

They mostly start with Creature and get Writes, Draws or Speaks added(bsp. #CreatureSpeaks for mostly random thought I had)

The most important one is #my cat, for pictures of my little old lady Zoe!

All tags are also on this post!

[pangolin-404]

im saying this to you bc i noticed it while on your blog but I THINK THE MONTEREY BAY AQUARIUM HAS ME BLOCKED FOR SOME REASON???????????????

WHAT CRIMES AGAINST FISH AND OTTERS DID YOU DO TO THEM!!????

[brokenmusicboxwolfe]

The other day I wanted to show someone a photo of something on my camera. This involved clicking through a LOT of pics.

On seeing some of my sculpted faces… “What do you DO with them?” Well, I sculpt them like doodles, take pics to post on Tumblr (and have a record if they break) during breakfast, and then wrap them in tissue before throwing them into a storage container. When the storage container is full I start another, but they never come out again….

I mean, what could I do? Little faces sculpted with little care, no work space or money to buy materials for casting or adding them to anything, and too fragile for a lot of handling.

I sculpt them because my fingers need to sculpt. I sculpt because it’s a quick and easy way to have made something at the end of the day. I sculpt to hold the hollowness of my existence at bay. The act of sculpting and having sculpted is all that matters. Turning them, reducing them really, into a product never crosses my mind!

On seeing my photos of the woods… “You need to make Tik Tok videos of them! People make a LOT of money on there and your photos are so good!”

Well, first, most people on Tik Tok probably don’t make any money at all. And the ones that get rich are the equivalent of community theater actors becoming movie stars. They are rare.

Secondly, TikTok means videos. I don’t even make video things I want to record (ex. those otters chatting and playing) because my very old tech is so rickety and out of memory. I can’t fit a video on my computer, and I can’t edit it. Plus my internet is so poor I doubt I can upload videos if I wanted to.

Thirdly, as far as I can tell without being on TikTok, it involves a lot of people filming themselves. I can NOT put my ugly face and hideous voice online as it might be considered a crime against humanity!

Look, there isn’t enough me for MORE social media. Just posting on Tumblr is getting to be almost too much for me. It has been YEARS since I posted on Facebook (hate it! That place does my brain in). I keep meaning to do something with my Ko-Fi, but I can’t even get around to adding more pics. I’d never have the time or energy for TikTok!

I get it though. I have heard it before. Someone once said there was “No excuse” for someone so “talented” (HA! That’s a joke!) not making money. They think it’s just a matter of throwing things out there and the world will flock to you.

It isn’t like that. Even if I were as talented as they assume, it would take at the very least a huge investment of time and energy I don’t have. I got soooo envious of a sculptor at a comic con who told me how her husband takes care of the business so she can make art. Not everyone has someone to help them. Mostly though, success is simply a matter of luck!

But there people go, letting you know that anything you do that doesn’t make money is a waste. It’s proof you aren’t trying hard enough.

There are people creating masterpieces out there that will die in poverty, but their making things is NOT a waste of time! It’s not a waste of time to make things that make you happy, even if you never make a damn penny! If your life is better for it, that’s enough!

And here I am, working my ass off to survive, living in isolation and wearing myself away, even cutting back on my own food to save money (grocery shopping once a month now…oh, joy!), and yet I am made to feel guilty for spending a couple hours at night sculpting or taking pictures during my increasingly rare and short walks in the woods. How dare I make myself smile instead of falling down dead chasing hypothetical dollars???

I’m barely sculpting anymore. I’m struggling to get to the woods at all. I’m so worn out I’m having trouble even finding these things fun anymore, and now I’m supposed to add guilt and shame because I’m not making a profit?

It’s like if you live in a desert but have a spring on your property. The stream is drying out, but you need it to survive. And someone rolls up saying, “Hey! You need food, so why haven’t you sold your water rights?? I’m being helpful here, but you just aren’t trying!”

People always assume I’m sitting on a gold mine I’m just too lazy or stupid to exploit. It makes me angry. And tired.

[bakujho]

TWST common headcanons mistaken for canon

I Made a thread on twitter about some of the common headcanons/misconceptions/misinfo about some of the stuff in twst, so thought I could maybe post it here too. (I am working on a few more posts but those will be longer and come later- this is just the simple stuff.)

“Floyd gives fish nicknames as a sign of affection”

Nope! When it is brought up in Ep 4-24 he refers to Kalim as Sea-Otter which Grim is confused about, and Jade goes on to say that he prefers to give people sea-creature themed nicknames. The addition of “sign of affection” was not in the original version!

“Herbivore is only used for Yuu (and used as a sign of affection)”

Nope! Leona calls several characters besides Yuu/Grim Herbivores, it seems to be his “go to” insult. (Ex. rival magift team members etc)

“Cater used to be the Heartslabuyl Dorm Leader”

Nope! He and Trey had been roommates for 2 years, and dorm leaders get their own rooms so they wouldn't have had to share. Also, Riddle mentions that it’s one of Trey’s “upperclassmen” rather than “classmates”.

“Floyd threw a fit first year because he (or Jade) got sorted into a different dorm”

Nope! This one was theorized due to one of Jades home voicelines, but in Floyd’s Beans Day personal story, he clarifies that he teased Riddle during the ceremony until he got blasted with magic.

“Azul and the twins are childhood friends”

Er, Sort of. Depending on where you draw the line for ‘childhood’. They’ve known Azul since elementary school, but weren’t friends with him at the very least until middle school, and only then did he change from Tako-chan to Azul.

“Floyd only calls people he likes/respects by their real name.”

Maybe, but not confirmed. The only characters he calls by their names are Jade and Azul, and Azul’s changed after X amount of years on his radar as Tako-chan. Everyone else, including the staff, have fish names.

“Child-of-man is specifically used for Yuu (and a sign of affection)”

Nope! He refers to the entire VDC group as ‘children-of-men’ in 5-67, as well as humans in general (as in 6-52)

“Malleus redecorated Ramshackle for Yuu after the STYX incident”

Nope! It was fixed by STYX and the VDC gang! (6-84)

“Ortho is a sweet baby that would never hurt a fly”

Nope! Ortho has threatened to destroy the school on multiple occasions (Ghost marriage, halloween, fairy gala) with his proton beam. Not to mention humiliating the Dia mob characters in his Dorm SSR story. ****SPOILERS FOR EP 6*** DO NOT READ THIS ONE IF YOU DON'T WANT TO BE SPOILED** YOU'VE BEEN WARNED!!*** and definitely wanted to destroy the world but you know. I personally think Ortho should be allowed to fire the beam, just once, as a treat.

“The Leech Family are Mafia”

Let’s be real there’s a GOOD fucking chance this one is true, but I think one that’ll stay HC because of that Disney label. The information about the Leech family status and business dealings leads pretty pointedly towards fish crimes, but as Jade assures in his first birthday card, it is all ‘VERY normal’.

“X character is __ sexuality”

Schrodinger's canon, all of it is canon and at the same time none of it is canon. All of them are up for interpretation (and will likely always remain so to rake in $$$). The only thing mentioned is that Ace had a girlfriend in middle school. Some characters seem more “coded” (gay, bi, ace, etc) than others, but outside of that one mention of Ace’s ex, nothing has been confirmed.