#emma squiggle

[multishipperofgaydeadwizards]

emma squiggle first had a major crush on bellatrix and then on rita. when rita and bella started dating, she lost her mind and kept complaining to all of her friends abt how hot those two are

bellatrix and rita bith know about her crush, and they find it funny. they will actively flirt with her just to see her turn red

[unravellingsilencehq]

“Oh, Merlin, tell me, does THE DETERMINED get what she deserves?” She is NEUTRAL & OPEN to finding out.“

— she walks through the world as ;

name → emma squiggle  pronouns → she/her identification → trans-woman year of birth → september 1955 - september 1956 face claim → zion moreno blood status → pure-blood sexual orientation → up to applicant occupation → investigative journalist for the daily prophet future information → n/a

— she is best described as ;

The CLARITY & SUBSTANCE of a CRYSTAL INKWELL & the SOFTNESS & SENSUALITY of a LEATHER DESK CHAIR. She is as REFINED as a full bodied RED and as plush as a long FEATHERED EVENING GOWN. 

— her story starts with ;

Some people in life are simply better than others and Emma Squiggle has made that her mantra. Born in New York to the former British Wizarding Ambassador and her menswear fashion designer husband, Emma was raised in the knowledge that the world rewards those who were willing to try and thrive. Of course, Emma knew she would be thriving. Although the Squiggle family would not grace the tapestries of The Sacred Twenty-Eight, Emma never lost a wink of sleep over it. Everyone who was anyone knew old money was out and the best way to make a splash was good family connections, a healthy traceable bloodline and a winning smile. Her very busy parents put as much effort as they could muster into Emma, treating her as a best friend or an associate rather than a child. Whilst most children were trying to grapple with The Tales of Beedle The Bard, Emma was encouraged to sit at the table alongside her parents and discuss what a day of tutoring had taught her, listening intently afterwards as her parents discussed their days. The family moved back to London not long before Emma had received her multiple offers for schooling. Hogwarts was an easy choice for her. Her family had all attended and any school that was regarded as the best in the world would be the only one she would consider. 

The hat barely brushed her head before she was announced a Ravenclaw and Emma seated herself on the long mahogany table waiting for people to begin assessing one another so she could wow them with her brilliance. The qualities that Emma loved most about herself was her creativity, strong sense of self and considered herself a good leader- the issue with being sorted into Ravenclaw was that her entire house felt the same way and it was very difficult to get a word in edgeways. Her year group housed some very strong personalities, including Quidditch legends, ELEZAR SMITH [adversary/former romantic liaison], MICHAEL THOMAS [adversary/former romantic liaison] and CRISTIANO PARKINSON [acquaintance], self-established queen bee GENEVIEVE AVERY [rival] and political princess ISOLDE CROUCH [rival]. With everyone in her year intent on a wand measuring competition, Emma forged her own group of likeminded people it wouldn’t hurt her brain to try and associate with. It surprised her how much she adored the company of ADRIAN CAVERLY [former best friend/colleague] and RITA SKEETER [adversary/former best friend/colleague]. In a flock of pigeons they were the true flamingos and nothing made her happier than when they were together. 

The three bonded over their love of pop culture, good reads, newspapers and magazines. Each day the three would sit in the common room, passing round issues of muggle and wizarding publications they’d managed to get their hands on, underlining passages for the other to read. It had been Emma’s bright idea that they go into the press business together, though it’s something Rita debates. The school was lacking a newspaper and between them they had the skills to set one up and ensure it succeeded. Emma quickly declared herself the hard news journalist amongst them, happy to give up the position of editor in order to focus on the issues that mattered. Her passion lied in investigation and nothing made Emma’s heart beat faster than a good story. The mystery of The Shrieking Shack was one that made her famous, though her theory that there was a werewolf roaming their grounds was laughed off by most of the staff and the students, except for XENOPHILIUS LOVEGOOD [friend], though she wasn’t sure if that was a good or a bad thing. She earned herself a reputation for trouble, sticking her nose in places it didn’t belong and despite having a better wardrobe and more money than most of her classmates she struggled popularity wise. 

To her surprise, Michael Thomas didn’t seem to think that ambition was a bad thing. To the whole world they seemed like a couple, but the problem with Michael was that he was allergic to commitment and no matter how much Emma thought she could change him, the likelihood is no witch ever would. He was the first man to break her heart and began a bit of an unhealthy relationship for Emma when it came to love. Emma knew that she was always the better option. The smartest woman in the room, but boys her age were simply stupid. She went looking for love in all the wrong places, the fun single girl with the good job and the cute flat, with the failed love life. Unlike her best friend Rita, Emma didn’t have to pull any strings to get her job at The Daily Prophet, though it did help that her mother was good friends with the Cuffe family. She worked as the intern for ELIAS SPENCER-MOON [former boss], spending her time getting his coffee. Understandably for such a main character, Emma got bored pretty quickly and began taking it upon herself to listen in on Elias’ conversations and do some detective work of her own. 

It was only after she undercut him for a scoop and brought it straight to BARNABUS CUFFE [boss] she was awarded a position as an investigative journalist. Though Emma worked hard at her job, it just never seemed to be good enough- not in her eyes of course, but in the eyes of the establishment she worked for. While she was doing noble work trying to uncover injustice, Rita would write about Florence and her boyfriend having another argument and was gifted her own column by the time she was twenty-five. Emma was irritated about the whole thing, but then again she had always felt that way about her. Rita wasn’t a team player, she didn’t want to share the spotlight, always concerned with herself and enjoyed putting down others. Silently she plotted to take her down a peg, Emma knew there was only one real MVP at The Daily Prophet and until she had some breathing room no one would see it. At Rita’s launch party, Emma flirted shamelessly with Rita’s boyfriend AUGUSTUS ROOKWOOD [partner]. It didn’t take long for him to follow her out the door in front of Rita’s face and as she settled into bed with him that evening she did so with a smile. 

Emma didn’t expect to fall in love with him. She also didn’t expect for him to fall in love with her, yet here they both were five years later. With Rita out of her life, Emma is truly thriving. She has better friends like, EDGAR CUFFE [best friend] and AURELIA ROOKWOOD [close friend].  An investigative journalist, she has been on the front line trying to figure out who is responsible for the murders taking place in the city, by any means necessary. Like anyone with more than half a brain-cell, Emma believes The Ministry are some how involved, looking to point the finger at a werewolf to contain the issue. With whispers of a dark wizard on the rise bouncing around the street Emma is curious to see if any of these claims have traction and unmask such a figure. The topic of such an investigation has spelt trouble in paradise in one area of her life, as Augustus has often seemed a little too invested in her latest case. Emma believes she might be self-sabotaging, clear on who she has been sharing a bed with for half a decade, but with his behaviour becoming increasingly strange she can’t help but wonder, is she sleeping with the enemy?

— she is a LEVEL 5 WITCH & readied for war ;

[k-is-for-potassium]

MOOT NAME AND PRONOUN MASTERPOST >:D (idea stolen from asher lol)

@miku-blue-n-pronouns – genderfluid, idk name or pronouns

@izzyfizzykitty – izzy, she/her

@waverthebluephoenix – grrr idk

@your-gay-emo-cousin – lyla, she/her

@laurenshamiltonjr – >:) may, she/they

@your-everyday-theatre-kid – (real) lyric, she/they

@discocannon8002 – disco(?), she/her according to pfp

@lil-gae-disaster – (real) noah, they/them

@im-a-skeleton-in-your-closet – rip asher (they deactivated)

@bleep-bloop-boo – (>:333) honey, she/her

@musical-dash-trash – they have the best asks >:) bug, she/he/they/ask (preference shifts)

@that-dam-heartstopper-fan – (SAME ALSO PJO REF) darcy/darce, ash, angel, she/they demigirl

@kwilooo – kira, any pronouns

@mediumdoodles – medium/variations, any pronouns

@galaxys-universe – galaxy, they/she (prefers they)

@cloud-makers-make-pollution – LES MIS BESTIE!! idk name, she/her

@mybedroomceilingsbored – (love ur banner) mouse, she/her

@emdabitchass – ooc is em, emmie, emma, emersyn, any pronouns, prefers he/they

@unstableunicornsofasgard – forrest, he/they (i don't talk to them much but he seems awesome >:))

@small-giggle – (holy shit it has 500 followers how am i moots with someone so famous) angel or jelly (they don't like caps for its name) it/they/she

@margaret-the-duck – (had a typo and almost did fuck instead of duck lol) maggie, she/her

@demigod-jack-hearth – uhh it's an rp blog so im not quite sure?

@bifluidmax08 – robin/max but can call them robbie, b, or maxi

@nothing-but-glitter-and-lashes – CHAPPELL BESTIE!!!!! no name, she/her

@noahher – noah, he/him

@squiggles-of-rats – @ang3lic-t3ars sideblog lol

@phoenixwench – no idea lol

@adumbteenboy BOYS WILL BE BUGS URL?! also idk

@codexnuminous – codex, they/them

@steph-schuyler – stephanie/steph, she/her

@eyes-shining-with-love – piper, they/star/song/spark/lyric/idol (woahh lots of pronouns!!)

@nowjumpinthewater – rania, she/her

@marsfingershurt – mar, they/them

@ang3lic-t3ars – riley/ry, she/xey

@definitionoffuckup – (MY POOKIE) star/al/grape (garpe), he/they COINED THE BABNA 😨 TAG

@next-level-simp – (real) leyla, idk

@frogsthatbite – (BESTIE) she/her

@stickbug-made-entirely-of-spite – SUPER COOL ARTIST AND BUG-LOVER :D stickbug, any non-gendered pronouns (they, it, etc)

@the-seas-most-lovable-bitch – azriel, they/she/he

@the-gods-strange-children – sol, she/they

@mun-urufu – transfem, that's it :(

@i-eat-so-much-grass – (real) flynn, they/them

@theronanlynchshow – ronan/rose, she/her but drc

@crowofthestars – m, they/any except she and it

@coswinx – (cat pfp :0) ozzie, xe/she/it (COOL PRONOUNS :D)

@sketch-begginerr – ce? she/they/he/any

@tealeafstew – laurel; any or she/they/he

@whythankyouforthetrauma – (I LOVE THE HEADER) she/her

@weird-dork37 – iris, any prns

@raeprise – rae; he/they

@moonage-nightterrors – el; they/them

@thedancingclowns – (FELLOW METAL FAMILY FAN 💪💪) heath/dee; he/they

@lavaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa – lava; they/them

@daggerhobbit – felix, aster, wren; xe/it/they NOT she/her (awesome pronouns)

@asters-tempo – aster, bread; ei love neopronouns and rn likes ei/it/they

@bees-official – (glad u finally fixed the typo lol) bee, he/him

@powehi-the-blackhole – idk zyr name (is that how u spell that pronoun? not quite sure /gen) ze/zym (COOL PRONOUNSSS)

@stars-on-my-bedroom-ceiling – ana; any, they/she preferred

@nao-walks-into-poles – nao; any pronouns

@beenoop – cam; agender, accepts he/him

@blackbirdsinatrenchcoat – (ahhh i love ur url) blue or ben; any pronouns

@remithegayshoebill – remi probably, idk tho

@not-sammie – sammie (OR ARE THEY?!); they/she

@cactus-with-boobs – hannah; she/her (GIRLLLL I WOULD GLADLY PLAY SMASH WITH YOU)

@justmemyselfandthefridge – fridge, she/her

@garden-of-runar – runar; pronouns change based on feelings, currently says he/him in the intro post

@saintperseus – james; he/him

@cemeterygrace – noa; any

@mush-fool – mxri, mint; intro post currently says they/xe

@discoveredreality – ari; she/her

@sotiredimbored – kuko or ollie; any pronouns

@shark-tranny – noelle; she/they

@goobsie0 – goobs; any pronouns

@fairyycoffin – aster; she/they

@eef-stars – BLUD WHERE IS UR INTRO POST

@divinequo – he/him

@imadragonhehe – RAHHH IDK

@touslin – r; they/he

@cloverthesimp365 – clover; she/her

AND THATS ALL!! lmk if you wanna be taken off/correct your part of the list :3 (this will be updated quite frequently, if i can help it)

[katsune-nya]

Reader asks TR characters: would you love me if i would be a worm? 😁😅

Hhhhhh. Ok, this is one of my favorite couple questions. I feel like it'd be so fun to annoy the guys especially with this. I chose Draken, Hakkai, Tetta, Emma and Hina. Might add more if I get ideas.

Thank you nonnie~♡.

Ken "Draken" Ryuguji.

"Baby, I have a very important question. And I really want you to take this seriously, it could change our relationship forever..." You talk.

Draken stopped his movements on his bike, lowering the tool he had in his hand and getting up to sit by your side.

"Alright. What is it? I promise it won't change a thing, I'll always stay by your side, okay?" He says in a soft voice, looking at you with seriousness in his eyes.

You take a deep breath, getting the words ready before you look him in the eye. "Would you still love me if I was a worm?".

"..."

"Actually, I don't think I love you as a person." He goes back to his bike, working on it silently.

"Come on! This is serious! Would you? I really wanna know..." You whine as you walk behind him.

Draken let's out a sigh. "Yes. I would love you if you were a worm."

You perk up and go crouch next to him by the side of his bike.

"Really? Even if I was an ugly one?" You ask cheerfully.

"You already look like an ugly worm." He teases blankly, neutral voice.

"KEN!".

Hakkai Shiba.

"Hey, Love Of My Life? Prettiest Boy Alive?" You call to your new boyfriend.

He turns his head to the side to look at you, "Hm?" he's still not fully confident in your company, but he's getting better at actually conversing.

"Would you love me if I was a worm?" You ask.

His face goes red, eyes wide. "Taka-chan didn't prepare me for this!" He thinks. "Uh... I-... Y-yes?" He asks, more than affirms.

"So you're admitting you love me, then?" You can't help but tease him when he looks this cute.

"Ah! I- I don't-! I mean- I do!- N-no! What I mean-" You just laugh as he stutters. Yeah, this relationship will be fun.

Tetta Kisaki.

"Baby..." You start. The second he hears your tone he KNOWS you're gonna say something stupid.

"Don't." He responds simply.

You lie on his arm and pop your question. "Would you love me if i was a worm?" You say with doe eye.

"..." He finally sighs. "What kinda worm? Eath? Venomous? Caterpillar?" He trails off. You think. "I don't know, any worm."

"There's a difference. Venomous?" He asks. "Mm, caterpillars are more interesting. Sure." You decide.

"Mm..." He thinks, thinking about it a bit too seriously. "Yeah." He settles. "What if i was an earthworm?" You continue.

"No."

Oddly enough, his last response doesn't sound like the truth.

Emma Sano.

"Princess... Would you love me if i was a worm?" You ask your girlfriend.

"Ew." She says with a small disgusted expression. She then leans on your arm and looks up at you, trying to give you a cute face.

"Would YOU love me if i was a worm?"

"That's unfair, i asked first!" You complain.

"Hmph... Fine... Yeah, i would, you'd be a cute worm." She says, finishing it off with a sweet smile.

A giggle escapes your lips. "Well, i would love you too if you were a worm. You'd be one of those cute fluffy ones." You realize.

"Aww. We could go on worm dates, squiggling through the leaves. Settling down and having worm babies." Emma starts trailling off, in her little worm fantasy.

You blink a few times. "Ok, that's enough."

Hinata Tachibana.

"Hinaaaaaaaa." You call out, to your girlfriend sitting on the other side of the couch.

"Yeah?" She responds, tilting her head with a small smile.

"Would you love me if i was a worm?" You ask.

"Yeah!" She tells you. "I would get you a little terrarium. Fill it with fresh soil and spraying it a bit, putting little leaves in it and making sure you're well nurtured." She explains nonchallantly.

"Would you get me little decorations?"

"Yup. Some tiny sticks and little branches with holes for you to hide. Some pretty rocks too." She adds cheerfully.

"..." You stare at her. "I love you."

[primalmagic]

rock-a-bye baby

It was empty. It was black and empty and she was alone.  

Until she wasn’t. 

Emma hesitates, taking a step black on an old, tattered tile that’s only vaguely familiar. 

“Hello?” 

She can barely recognize her own voice. 

She tries again. 

“Hello? Is anyone-” 

She’s interrupted by a blood-curdling scream, disassociated and hers. 

“Damn it, damn it,” she panics, her heart beating a thousand times faster than what was probably normal, “Fuck, stay away from me, you- you-”

It comes closer, cocking its head onto the side, cold wind brushing against her extended, shaking leg. It’s unlike anything she’s ever seen before, but like something she has seen before. Because she knew. 

God, she knew. She had met this creature before, someplace- somewhere- at some time she somehow couldn’t remember…

It’s empty, hollow, smiling face leaned closer to her, and she suppresses the urge to giggle. 

She’s so done. She’s so, so, done. The girl in her stomach kicks her again, but she’s not paying her any attention. The shock is gone, replaced by slow, slow, slow agony. 

“What do you want?” She demands, her voice wavering around the wisps of black wind curling across her vision. “Why are you here?” 

It doesn’t answer. 

She doesn’t expect it to. 

But it grins wider, leans closer until it’s in her personal place and just barely touching her. 

“S-stay back,” she swallows, “I, uh, I have a husband!” The previous panic creeps back into her mind, slowly but surely. 

It doesn’t react. 

It leans closer and closer and closer until Emma can feel it everywhere. 

Around her, encompassing her, inside her, just… her. 

She gasps out wordlessly, eyes squeezed shut, a single teardrop drawing a small squiggle down her face. 

She can feel it. 

And she understands.

A thousand years of suffering run through her head, a thousand years of abandonment, of hatred, of the same agony she’d felt seconds ago. Centuries of ignorance and exile, decades of planning and surviving. 

The slow trickle of hope, falling, falling, falling, as the hourglass greedily takes the last piece of sand. 

Of fear and worry, or terror and humanity. So old and grainy that she can hardly grasp it. Because it was taken from it, taken so long ago. 

And want. 

So, so, so much want.

And then it’s gone. 

Her eyes open up wearily, studying her surroundings, but it is nowhere to be found. 

But out of the very corner of her eyesight, she sees a blob run through the dark. 

She can’t speak, she realizes. She’s so tired, so drowsy… so sleepy… 

But then it speaks. 

It speaks. 

And it says, 

Ashlyn. 

— 

“Emma? Love, are you alright? Emma?” 

Her eyes jerk open, tear-stained cheeks flushed red, her hands clenched as they lay dead on the mattress. 

“Mark?” 

“What’s wrong, Em?” He sits up on the bed, leaning closer to dry her eyes, which are somehow still wet. “What happened? Bad dream?” 

Yes, she’s about to say, but then she’s struck by the realization that she can’t… remember? Why was she crying? 

“No,” she frowns, “I’m- I’m okay.” 

“Are you sure about that?” he asks as she leans on his shoulder and sits up, grasping his hand to stay grounded. 

She flicks on the lamp on the bedroom table, relishing the way the dim light fills the room. 

“I love you,” she whispers, holding one hand to her stomach and gazing softly at her husband. Her baby has stopped kicking, she realizes in the back of her mind. 

“I love you too, Em,” he smiles, “But it’s one AM in the night and you just started crying, love. Did something happen?” 

“No, I- no, I’m alright,” she decides, turning her eyes away. She’d tell Mike if she knew, she thinks. But what… what just happened? 

“If you say so,” he chuckles, eyes crinkled in slight worry, “Baby keeping you up all night?” 

“Something like that,” she answers truthfully. “She’s alright, though.” I think. 

“How are you so sure it’s a girl?” Mike nudges her affectionately, “I bet it’s a boy.” 

“It’s a girl,” she said definingly, grinning, “But I wouldn’t mind betting with you on it.” 

“50 bucks?” 

“Deal.” 

“I’m so gonna win!” 

Emma shakes her head, her mind erasing any lingering fear of whatever’d just happened. She was safe. She was at her house with the love of her life, making stupid remarks and she was safe. 

“Mother knows best,” she giggles, like she’s a teenage girl again. 

“How dare ye, Mother Gothel! Stay away from my wife and my son!” He waves his hands dramatically, and Emma knows he’s trying to make her feel better. 

“Daughter,” she corrects, before he can protest, “It’s too late for this. You have work tomorrow! Go to sleep,” she flicks him on the head and smiles. 

“Alright, fine.” 

Pause.

“You sure you’re okay?” 

She sighs exasperatedly, but with no heat, “I’m fine, I swear. Thanks though.” 

“No problem, love. Good night.” 

He tucks her under the covers, and then flicks off the lamp. 

“Good night, love you too,” she whispers back. 

The silence stretches, comfortable and calm. 

One sheep. Two sheep. Three sheep. 

“Hey, Mark?” She asks, using the nickname that had inadvertently stuck since she mistakenly called him it when they'd first met.

“Yeah, Em?” 

“If it’s a girl…” she hesitates, unsure of why she’s so adamant on this herself, “Can we name her Ashlyn?” 

“Only if I can name him Edward,” he jokes. 

“Never mind,” she rolls her eyes in the darkness, but Mike definitely gets the point. 

“Yeah, love, we can.” 

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah. I like it.”

“Wish I could say the same, but no child of mine is going to be named Edward.”  

“Hey! You don’t want a little vampire baby?” 

Her mind catches a glimpse of something, something familiar, and she shudders involuntarily, “I’d like to stay away from anything supernatural in this life, if I can.” 

“Alright then, what about Bob?” 

“I hate you.” 

“You love me.” 

“Yeah, I do love you. Now, good night, Mark,” she huffs, still smiling, “For real this time.” 

“Alright, alright. Good night- for real this time,” he chuckles. 

She loves him so, so much. 

As she drifts off, she feels another small kick, and lets out a breath she didn’t know she was holding.

“Good night to you too, Ashlyn."

on ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/56080381 guys there is not a single emma banner / mike banner on ao3 COME ON they were such a power couple

[dotster001]

Girl Dad

Summary: Chevalier adopts an heir.

A/N: this was originally supposed to be for a request, but I misread part of it. I really like how it came out tho, so I'm posting it by itself. I based the five year old he adopts after my sassy five year old cousin, cause only a sassy kiddo could keep up with him 😂 if you like this...keep an eye out for a very similar fic to be released later that's actually based off the prompt I was given

CW:Emma is not reader, spreading my aro/Ace Chev agenda

A king needs an heir. It was purely business, but as Chevalier had yet to take on a wife or lover, Sariel had to resort to other methods of ensuring the bloodline.

Having dragged the young king to an orphanage, Sariel was having a word with the headmistress, and watched as the king walked away, face set like he was marching into battle.

The bloody beast eyed the children, as they cried and scurried away. Unsurprising. it was what he expected when Sariel had told him about the day's events.

To be honest, it would be truly foolish for any of them to approach the brutal beast.

"Excuse me," he felt a tug on his coat, and turned to see a little girl, looking up at him expectantly.

"Do you wanna see my drawing? It's probably the best drawing in the whole world."

Apparently his silence was answer enough, because she slipped her small hand into his, and "dragged" him to her bed, where the drawing was kept.

All Chev saw were some pink squiggles.

"That's me. Princess Ada. Do you wanna be in my drawing?"

She was immediately adding some blue squiggles to her picture. Then she handed the paper to Chev.

"There. Now you're a princess too!"

Chev stared at the paper with a blank expression.

….

Sariel and the headmistress both stopped their discussions as Chevalier walked out the door with Ada in his arms.

Sariel sighed.

"I guess he picked that one. Get me her paperwork."

….

"This room needs more pink."

Ada was walking around the room, giving it a scrutinizing look.

"And more stuffed animals."

She stood still and nodded.

"But I like it."

Chev said nothing, but she didn't seem to need him to speak to understand. Another sign that he'd chosen well.

….

"Your job is to wrangle my child."

Chevalier had forgotten how five year olds do not stay in one place without supervision. And Ada was giving even Clavis a run for his money. So he'd called in the simpleton.

"I never really thought of you as having a child," Emma laughed. "But I suppose it was bound to happen eventually, considering-"

"Princess Ada is probably picking flowers in the garden, swimming in the fountain, or making a mess of Clavis' experiments. I suggest you start looking."

He left with a flourish, ignoring her poorly hidden giggles.

….

"These lessons are boring," Chevalier heard as he entered Sariel's office, where he was attempting to teach Ada about her new kingdom.

Ada perked up when she saw him.

"I can stop learning today right?"

Chev said nothing.

"Daddy says I can skip lessons today," she said with authority.

"He did not–" Sariel began, but was cut off as Chevalier scooped up Ada, and took her out of the room. But not before Ada stuck out her tongue at a very stressed Sariel.

….

"Tell your dad what you did," Emma said firmly.

"I took my bath very fast," Ada said unapologetically.

"When?"

"Just now!" She seemed so proud. But she was also bone dry.

"Why aren't you wet then?" Chevalier asked.

"I dried off very fast," she said with a scowl.

"So you didn't take your bath, and lied to Miss Simpleton-"

"Miss Emma-"

"And now think you can fool me?"

"I dried off very fast! I'll show you!"

Ada picked up a pretend towel and erratically wiped herself off with it. Chevalier sighed.

"Fine, I'll go take a second bath, I guess," Ada said with a pout, stomping from the room.

….

"Wanna hear a joke? Ask me what a candy cane with salt is!" Ada exclaimed, as she swung her legs back and forth in the chair next to Chev's desk.

"What's a candy cane with salt?" He muttered, not looking up from his paperwork.

"A pwetzel!"

Chev froze.

"What?"

"A pwetzel!"

He looked up at her, setting his pen down, giving her his undivided attention.

"What's a candy cane with salt?"

She huffed. "A pwetzel, I already told you!"

For once in his life, the brutal, bloody, genius was completely lost.

"Huh-"

"Princess Ada, it's time for Uncle Licht to give you your riding lessons," Sariel said, at the door.

"Yay! Hey Sariel, wanna hear a joke?" Chev heard as they both trailed down the hallway.

"I wish I'd known sooner all it would take to take you down was a five year old girl," Clavis snickered, expertly dodging the pen Chevalier threw at him.

….

The King was a busy man, what with all the work he had to do to keep Obsidian at bay. But he made sure to take a break every night to put his little one to sleep.

Her room was much more pink now, and filled with mountains of stuffed animals. It hadn't been long before she had asked for frilly pink nightgowns. And whatever Princess Ada wanted, Princess Ada got.

Chev pulled the covers up and tucked her in, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead.

"Can you read me a story before bedtime? I promise, just one and I'll go to sleep."

"You told me just one yesterday, and I read four stories to you."

"Hee hee, yeah. But I promise to be a good girl today!"

With a sigh, Chevalier pulled a book he'd gotten from the simpleton's dog off the shelf, and began,

"Once upon a time…"

[iwonderwh0]

Once again watching movies about androids and just commenting it in real time because I'm watching it alone and feel like talking

This time it's M3GAN

Although those toys are a parody of kids entertainment content, I feel like they are good at capturing the essence. Yep, it feels pretty real, those things Would be popular.

I mean, this isn't even fiction, there have just been released a toy Grok powered with ai chatbot that even looks kinda the same

I mean look:

A lot of spoilers and commentary below

Damn, what did they use to build her for her to explode like that?

That breakfast looks sad. It's just a plain toast without anything.

What year is it supposed to be? They do robots that can smell things as a uni project, it's a lot more futuristic than setting looks.

And now M3GAN is suddenly stronger than this dog? It just dragged her body through the fence a few hours ago.

Damn, I got chills from M3GAN saving that memory for Cady

But then she started SINGING and it was kinda ruined

I can't, Cady literally looks like Emma

LOOK, I need you to find a difference between these two pictures

I mean, at this point M3GAN is sentient, so the problem isn't even that Cady views her as such, but rather that their relationships are really far from equal and M3GAN has too much authority/power over Cady's life. I've been in friendships where I idealized and basically worshipped my friend, making them kinda like top authority figure without realising it. It's not that it doesn't happen among human-to-human connection and it's honestly doesn't make it much better. It's just humans usually don't have this kind of power.

I'm not sure ears can do that damn 😳

I mean, you can't create sentient creature and then pretend it's just a toy/object/device.

This is what happens when you create an android that is that much stronger than human and doesn't have any kind of human-safe precautions on place that tells them not to rip kids ears out.

It's kinda ironic how the creepiest aspects of M3gan that aren't her absence of limits in regards to Cody's protection are a direct consequence of her being programmed like a toy, specifically, the way she speaks as if she's an elementary-school teacher that needs to baby-talk in a condescending manner and make everything into a lesson, and the way she just spontaneously starts to sing.

It's hard to deny that she's a person. It's just yeah, the way she was programmed makes her a dangerous psychopath.

And coming from that fact that she's not a toy but a person, a kid can't really grow out of her, as she's their actual friend with a mind of its own, instead of something that is only a kid's imagination.

Robot-horror that dances around the topic of the Squiggle Maximizer* feels like a genre in itself. I think Hal9000 from Space Odyssey was the first example of that in movies?

* A Squiggle Maximizer is a hypothetical artificial intelligence whose utility function values something that humans would consider almost worthless, like maximizing the number of paperclip-shaped-molecular-squiggles in the universe. The squiggle maximizer is the canonical thought experiment showing how an artificial general intelligence, even one designed competently and without malice, could ultimately destroy humanity. The thought experiment shows that AIs with apparently innocuous values could pose an existential threat. (source of this exact phrasing of this hypothetical)

"Gemma, this is nuts. We've taken every possible precautions there is to make sure M3GAN never causes physical harm to anybody."

Oh so there were some? What precautions exactly? From how it's presented it kinda seems like no one really reviewed her code that much.

"This is impossible, she's a toy!"

Why is it that people always fail to recognise sentient computers in movies? With human superstition it seems like on the contrary people are prone to personify objects and assign them soul. I mean, people be referring to boats as "she", and yet when something actually is made to seem sentient, people in movies seem to struggle with accepting this idea.

I refuse to see Cady's (co-)dependence on m3gan as iPad kid syndrome 2.0, it really is different when it's basically a person.

And I don't really get her (Cody's) getting violent part either. I mean, it could be explained as bad influence, but it's not like M3GAN encourages her to be violent in their time together.

"She's not a solution, she's just a distraction"

I mean, yes? But would a distraction in form of human friend in this situation be any different?

Damn! 😳

I love it. I mean, it's the horror genre, and it's good for what it promises to be.

Oh, she finally talks normally.

CREATION VS CREATOR LET'S FUCKING GO HELL YES

The ending scene with voice assistant chills

Damn, this movie was great. Not sure I'd want to rewatch it though, but it was interesting, well filmed and actually looked like authors put a thought into it. All the Chekhov's guns were put to use.

I kinda had a predjustice about it because of that "Connor vs M3GAN" poll on Tumblr with people being just insufferably hostile in comments, but it was a lot better than I expected.

I didn't expect to ramble so much in process either, but this time, maybe due to it being really recent movie and hence actual, it was (I hate this word but I can't find another) thought-provoking.

And I love that it didn't end up giving me an impression of author condescending to me with some moral lesson "black mirror style" (deragatory), but reads as authors just wanting to tell a story, which honestly seems to be quite rare within android-centric media.

[emsquig]

if you fail to plan, you plan to fail strategy sets the scene for the tale i'm the wind in our free-flowing sails and the liquor in our cocktails.

{pinterest/spotify/bio}

BASIC STATS

full name: emma claire squiggle

nicknames: squiggle, em

pronouns and gender identity: she/her, trans woman

sexuality: bisexual

birthday: 15 january, 1956 (capricorn sun, aquarius moon, sagittarius rising)

age: 30 years old

career: investigative journalist at the daily prophet

languages: english, spanish (mother's first language)

virtues: driven, intelligent, confident

vices: narcissistic, exacting, guarded

character inspos: paris geller (gilmore girls), blair waldorf (gossip girl), villanelle (killing eve)

MAGIC

house: ravenclaw

wand: elm wood with a core of phoenix feather, 10.5 inches and rigid. a truly dignified wand that would not easily be swayed from it's beliefs, just like it's owner.

boggart: it's her in the future, sporting sweatpants and deep circles under her eyes, with three screaming children hanging off of her. her friends had laughed the first time she'd seen it (your worst fear is being a mum??) but she knew that it meant a life of wasted potential, of falling into a role she wasn't born to play.

amortentia: ink from her quill, heady and familiar. the almost sickeningly sweet smell of gardenias as they grew outside her family home in the summer. the smooth, dark bite of good whiskey.

patronus: a hippogriff. she's only managed to cast the spell a handful of times, but she hasn't spent a lot of time trying. emma tended towards practical magic. anything further seemed like a waste of time to learn- emma knew her value was in her mind, not in her wand.

QUICK HCS:

emma throws a great party- the perfect balance of a classy affair and a rager.

her parents had her in piano lessons from the age of three- she doesn't have the passion to be truly great but she did achieve technical perfection

she is the master of the passive aggressive insult

her love language is telling you "oh, i just finished a book i think you'll love, let me give you my copy" and then writing a little inscription on the first page

she can be very tactful when she wants- she has a persuasive air around her perfect for getting a story out of an unwilling source- but she finds it takes too much energy and outside of a professional context she's much more likely to be uncomfortably blunt.

WANTED CONNECTIONS- more to be added!

"how'd we end up on the floor, anyway?" you say: a ride or die best friend, a come over uninvited with wine best friend, a trading eyerolls across the room best friend.

trick me once, trick me twice: emma can be ruthless when getting a scoop- in the pursuit of the story, she hurt this muse and they hold a grudge.

he wanted it comfortable, i wanted that pain: your classic ex connect! open to all genders- maybe there's hard feelings and maybe there aren't, but this muse thought emma was far too in love with her work to ever really love someone else. would love some variants too- maybe someone she dumped, maybe ex-FWBs, ect.

my knuckles were bruised like violets: friend breakups are worse than romantic breakups- emma's never had a hard time dumping her partners, but she still sometimes wants to call this person and tell them about her day.

i don't start shit-: emma can't say she's spent a lot of time thinking about her views on blood purity, but she has spent a good bit of time writing about how other people view it. this person affiliated with the order thinks that with her influence, emma could be a good recruit for the order- even though emma couldn't be less interested.

-but i can tell you how it ends: the bad influence counterpart to the above good influence connect! she is a pureblood, from a nouveau riche family, in a 5 year relationship with augustus rookwood- this person thinks it might be a good time for emma to give her talents to the death eaters.

[gvftea]

The moon glimmered through the sprawling branches of Pine Hollow, casting eerie shadows as seven friends gathered around a flickering campfire. The scent of pine needles mixed with the sweet aroma of roasting marshmallows. Chadley, the unofficial leader of the group, leaned forward, a glint of mischief in his eyes.

“Okay, everyone, listen up! I’m about to tell you the craziest story you've ever heard,” he announced, his voice dropping to a whisper. “It’s about a creature known only as the Really Evil Clown…”

As Chadley spun his tale occasionally laughing maniacly while in character, the atmosphere thickened with tension and cigarette smoke not from cigarettes though this was just how Jimmy smelled . The story spoke of a malevolent figure who thrived on fear, a clown with a twisted grin and a taste for carnage. Legend had it that the clown emerged when a group of kids dared to believe in him. As the last words echoed in the night, an unsettling quiet fell over the campsite. The kids exchanged nervous glances, the story having planted its seeds of fear.

“Let’s get some firewood!” Duncan,the only one who seemed to understand that Chadley's story was idiotic at best and filled with plot holes and unnecessary sex, exclaimed, breaking the tension as the group scattered into the woods. Chadley and Emma Sue, always the adventurous morons of the group, found themselves trailing behind. The woods enveloped them, shadows creeping in and whispering secrets, and gossip.

“Hey, wanna sneak off for a minute?” Chadley proposed, his brow waggling suggestively. Emma Sue giggled her stupid giggle, and they ducked behind a large oak tree, squiggling under the pretense of hiding.

But before anything could happen, a sound interrupted their moment—a phone ringing, a stark contrast against the silence of the forest.

“Who’s got a phone out here?” Emma Sue laughed, but the laughter died in her throat as Chadley, following the sound, glanced at her.

Her playful demeanor twisted into something grotesque. Her face morphed into the haunting visage of the Really Evil Clown, painted with a wide, maniacal grin. The clown was holding a bright yellow phone in his hand and hung up with some unknown being on the other line.

Chadley screamed and bolted back to camp, heart pounding like a war drum. Tripping over his untied laces and pulling his fly back up Chadley could hear the psyco's laughter get softer behind him.

When Chadley returned, panic surged through him. He stumbled into the campsite, breathless. “Emma Sue! Emma Sue!” he shouted, but his voice was drowned in the night.

His gaze landed on the tallest tree. There, swinging like a rag doll, hung up by a yellow telephone cord was Emma Sue—lifeless, her eyes glassy and vacant. The world around him swirled as horror set in. Blood drained from his face.

While collecting firewood Duncan and Jimmy found a mysterious book laying open with a picture of a creature with a thousand limbs and a single eye on the page. A Tulpa a creature that fed off of Fear and people believing in it. Miles, Duncan, Sasha, and Emma Marie returned with an armful of firewood, but their laughter faltered into confusion upon witnessing the scene.

“We need to call for help!” Emma Marie gasped, her eyes darting wildly around.

"With what?" Chadley inquired defeated "The god damn telephone." He said gesturing at the tree. Suddenly, Jimmy realized he had left the book behind. “I’ll go get it!” he exclaimed, darting back into the trees alone. But he wasn’t prepared for what lurked in the shadows.

As he reached down to pick up the book, it lay open on a page illustrating the tulpa. In an instant as he got closer, the Really Evil Clown crawled from the pages, forming into a twisted nightmare before him. With a swift motion, the clown grabbed a nearby clothes iron and struck Jimmy down with a sickening clang.

Concerned, the remaining friends took off into the forest. When they found themselves separated, Sasha paused to tie her shoelace. Suddenly, a sinister force tangled her in her own laces, yanking her to the ground.

Before she could scream, the clown appeared, dragging her toward a nearby bright bathtub, tossing her inside with a cruel laugh and a toaster plugged into a tree and emmiting a soft red light. In that moment, terror invaded the remaining friends at the campsite, realizing one by one that their numbers were dwindling.

“Where’s Jimmy?” Emma Marie asked, eyes wide with fear.

They returned to the book, desperate for answers. Seeing the page depicting the tulpa once more but it was different this time the image was the really evil clown, panic swelled within.

“I have to find Sasha!” Miles yelled, but as he dashed off, the clown emerged, swinging an axe that flashed in the moonlight.

Back at the camp, chaos erupted when Chadley, Emma Marie, and Duncan returned to find the others’ bodies gruesomely arranged in the fire pit. The flames flickered against the grotesque forms twisted in death.

Suddenly, out of the fire, the Really Evil Clown erupted, laughter echoing through the night air. With one swift movement, it's face twisted and stretched and devoured Chadley whole, blood splattering against the trees as Emma Marie screamed.

“Duncan, we need to do something!” she cried, heart racing.

Duncan’s mind raced. “Wait! It’s a tulpa! It only exists because we believe in it!” He grabbed a rock and hit himself in the head, stumbling in confusion. “We need to believe it’s not real!”

Emma Marie followed suit, thwapping her head with a rock, and the world around them wavered. The clown screeched, a spider retreating into the dark corners of their minds.

The woods sighed in relief. Dawn broke over Pine Hollow, casting golden light on a clearing where Emma Marie and Duncan lay, bruised yet alive. The shadows flickered and faded.

They awoke to the chirping of birds, the warm sun breaking the grip of darkness. The book lay nearby, the pages rustling in the breeze.

“We... we did it,” Emma Marie whispered, glancing at Duncan. As they stood, trembling but hopeful, the remnants of their nightmare lingered in the soft whispers of the wind. Police arrived minutes later and took them home.

And far away, deep in the recesses of the woods, a laugh echoed softly, and for the first time, it felt like the shadows were watching, waiting for the next group of campers to believe.

[dustedmagazine]

Various Artists — Kuboraum Digital Sound Residency (Kuboraum)

LABOUR, photo by Evelyn Bencicova

Kuboraum Digital Sound Residency brings together 12 tracks commissioned by the Berlin based spectacle makers Kuboraum who create “masks” for the eyes. They also host musical events by a broad range of electronic and underground artists who share their aesthetic and inclusive philosophy. Kuboraum’s brief to the artists was open ended and what emerges is a snapshot of the music of Berlin’s underground.

Some names are familiar. Space Afrika contributes a typically twilit interlude of sampled vocals swathed in dusty ambience and µ-Ziq a frenetic yet melodic piece of drum’n’bass. “Let Love Decide” from Sandwell District co-founder Regis recalls the halcyon days of clubs like Ego and Tresor when local DJ’s began to incorporate slower bpm’s, live vocals, and post-punk structures into their tracks. Cellist Lucy Railton’s “Medieval Sui” plays a baroque string quartet through a haze of electronic effects, switching moods from the sublime to the haunted.

Still the lesser knowns make this compilation worth hearing. Moin are the London based duo Joe Andrews and Tom Halstead AKA Raime and Italian born percussionist/composer Valentina Magaletti. Their track “Lapsed” creeps along on a two-note guitar figure elaborated over a steady drumbeat and samples of laughter and polyglot mumbling. Magaletti then teams up with Japanese producer Zongamin as V/Z for “All the Rest of It” to explore rhythmic textures that flicker in redlit death jazz shadows. “Mass and Mess, Dispersion of Subjectivity” by LABOUR, Berlin based Iranian soundscapist Farahnaz Hatam and American percussionist Colin Hacklander, splits the difference between Clock DVA and Einstürzende Neubauten (such as they are) into an industrial drum circle with what maybe whale song or distorted factory sirens blaring in the background. On “Impressioni Dinamiche” Italian producer Alessandro Adriani disrupts glacial synths with a basic rock drum sample that counterintuitively emphasizes the dynamics of the keyboards. MC Yallah teams up with Debmaster on the stirring “Nzimba Zinyota,” rapping in languages from Kenya and Uganda over grime beats and eight-bit squiggles.

Although not everything here works, tracks from Emma dj, Quelza and Ziúr feel either slight or overstuffed and the sequencing can be jarring, there’s enough in this anthology to encourage you to dig deeper into the work of the contributors.

Andrew Forell

[angst-and-fajitas]

In one final bout of cleaning before I pack, I found this old piece again! So here's another Darkrai, but this time rendered with ink and quill!

[incomingalbatross]

The Promised Neverland is one of those stories where I think highly enough of 90% that I’m willing to accept the other 10% on the strength of it, but I still think my prediction for the ending would have been thematically stronger.

The thing about The Promised Neverland is that it’s a dystopian horror setting with an idealistic pure-hearted protagonist, and the protagonist is consistently shown to be stronger than the setting.

Despair and hatred are consistently treated as the enemies. Mercy and hope are weapons the protagonists wield to reach a better world. Justice and caution also have their places, but expediency is always wrong, and when our protagonists decide to give up on themselves or others in order to accept a half-victory, that is also wrong.

Ray is shown to be wrong when he thinks he has to sacrifice his life in a solo plan. Norman is shown to be wrong when he thinks he has to sacrifice his soul in a solo plan. They’re both told and shown that they need to acknowledge their family’s need for them to be okay, and should rely on their family so everyone can make it out.

OBVIOUSLY Emma, thematically speaking, should not have sacrificed her place with her family in a solo plan. Still less should she have lied about it, because that’s an additional betrayal and an admission that this plan is bad--that it’s unacceptable--and that’s contrary to everything she stands for.

But! *illegible squiggles* demands that others give up what they most value and what they are most hoping to gain for themselves from a Promise, right? It took the Minervas’ peace and the demons’ finest meat. So it does make sense that it would demand Emma’s family...

But imagine if Emma had smiled and said “That’s not mine to give up.”

“My place with my family is something that belongs to them as much as it does to me, and I already promised them that I wouldn’t give it up—that I’d stay with them. So, you see, to make that Promise with you would be breaking an older promise. It’s not a price that’s in my power to pay.”

And so the other says, “Well argued. But the price you pay must be that which you most value... and for you, that is the place in your family. I cannot give what you ask for any other price.”

And then Emma—loving, compassionate, hopeful Emma—lights up.

“That’s all right! I know a way to give you that price!”

“How?”

“You think a price is a loss,” she says. “You think to pay a thing, it must be lost. And maybe that’s how it was with other Promises. But family isn’t like that. Family can give, and give, and give, and always end up with more.”

She takes a step forward, fearless hand outstretched. “I can’t give up my place in my family... but I can give you a place in our family. I can give you my family, without giving it up. If you want it... it’s yours. Your place in our family.”

And that is something that has never been done, never been offered, before. A Promise not offered for sacrifice or penalty, but freely—something given for the other to have, not for the human or demon to lose.

Something ripples, in the place beyond the Seven Walls, as if reality had taken a breath, and hushed to watch.

And later, when all is said and done, and the children of the farms have returned to the human world, there is another infant in Emma’s arms. In her family.

When the others ask about the child, she smiles, and says, “Someone I owed a place to.”

(ANYWAY I think that would have been a fun twist and more in keeping with Emma’s whole ethos and ALSO maybe added a new dimension to the Entity of the Illegible Name. What if it doesn’t WANT to hang out in the void?? What if Emma brought healing and family not just to humans and demons, but to the Weird Eldritch Being Overseer too?? I think that would have been neat.)

[unravellingsilencehq]

“Oh, Merlin, tell me, does THE GOSSIP get what she deserves?” She is NEUTRAL & OPEN to finding out.“

— she walks through the world as ;

name → rita skeeter pronouns → she/her identification → cis-female year of birth → september 1955 - september 1956 face claim → chloe bridges blood status → half-blood sexual orientation → bisexual occupation → columnist for society and scandals at the daily prophet future information → court reporter during the death eater trials, renown published author of multiple biographies including albus dumbledore, newt scamander, severus snape and harry potter

— she is best described as ;

The scent of INK & FRESH PARCHMENT spritzed with FRENCH PERFUME. She’s as DELICATE as the FEATHER of a QUILL and as SHARP as the nib at the end. Her words CUT, SHARP and QUICK, leaving your REPUTATION in RIBBONS with just a flick of her ELEGANT WRIST.

— her story starts with ;

tw: death

One of the most famous names in wizarding press, Rita Skeeter is the sharpest tongue in London no one wants to be cut by, although she can be a brilliant friend to you… for the right price. Rita came from good stock, with a father who was head of Public Information Services for the Ministry and a mother who was a top stylist for Witch Weekly. She was raised in a privileged household, watching from the bannister as her parents hosted beautiful parties in their obscenely tall townhouse. From an early age Rita longed for a life just like theirs, filled with beauty, travel, notoriety and respect. It fuelled her from the minute she woke up to the moment she rested her head. With her father constantly at work or away on business trips, and her mother consumed by her small social circle of gossips, Rita’s childhood soon became lonely. She spent most days by herself, exploring her parents personal library of articles and pouring over The Daily Prophet each day as it arrived, and her mother’s Witch Weekly on Sundays. Rita knew what her calling in life was. She was to be a journalist. The most famous journalist in the wizarding world of her generation. 

Rita learned that if she hovered in the shadows while her parents chatted away, she’d learn about many secrets and rumours, a technique she would perfect whilst away at school. By the time Rita had received her letter to Hogwarts she had already read biographies or articles of most of the professors and had researched as much as she could about the school, in order to ensure where she stood with faculty. She saw Hogwarts as an opportunity to finally practise her journalism skills on stories that slipped from the mouths of the students. Rita was sorted into Ravenclaw instantly, without hesitation, she began to sort through her fellow Ravenclaw students, unafraid of hurting feelings or causing disgruntlement as she searched for friends she deemed tasteful. EMMA SQUIGGLE [rival/former best friend/colleague] and ADRIAN CAVERLY [best friend/colleague] quickly became her closest friends, whilst DAISY HOOKUM [close friend/colleague], GILDEROY LOCKHART [colleauge/close friend] and XENOPHILLIUS LOVEGOOD [friend] quickly became good friends she enjoyed chatting news stories with. In her fourth year, Rita began The Hogwarts Gazette, under the careful gaze of Professor McGonagall, hiring herself as the newspaper's editor. 

The paper published a variety of articles focusing on school political issues, sports coverage, a gossip column and a fashion section. With a knack for finding things out and a clever way of spinning a tale, Rita ran the gossip column and had developed quite the habit of uncovering other’s dirty laundry and leaving it to dry for everyone to see. This, of course, did not sit well with everyone and Rita gained a negative reputation amongst her fellow students as someone to be wary of. The boys in her year group, HARRISON BAGNOLD [acquaintance/person of interest], KALEB JOHNSON [acquaintance], ELEZAR SMITH [acquaintance/person of interest], MICHAEL THOMAS [acquaintance] and CRISTIANO PARKINSON [acquaintance] were not her biggest fans, whilst younger students PETER PETTIGREW [person of interest], JAMES POTTER [person of interest], REMUS LUPIN [person of interest] and SIRIUS BLACK [person of interest] also found her constant prying into their personal lives just as invasive. Other people saw the light and wanted her on side.

Rita found she enjoyed the power of being feared and appeased by the likes of ANDRESSA PARKINSON [friend], ISOLDE CROUCH [friend], LUCILLE JONES [friend], FLORENCE JONES [friend] and BERTHA JORKINS [close friend]. By her seventh year, she was able to transform into a beetle and with this, was able to listen into many more conversations. She also learned that with a seductive smile and a wink here and there she could get anyone to tell her just about anything. Thanks to her continuous summer internships at Witch Weekly, through her mother’s connections and a good word here and there from her father, Rita eventually landed a job at The Daily Prophet as an intern. Peeking through her father’s files and transforming herself into a beatle to access events, meant that she began to get one scoop after the other. It was a lot of hard work, long hours and the lack of a social life but eventually Rita was awarded her own column and Rita Skeeter’s Scandal Sheets was born. At just twenty-five she was something of a prodigy, a major celebrity everyone loved and feared. 

Having similar interests, most of Rita’s friends at the paper also established themselves at The Daily Prophet, becoming fantastic journalists and photographers in their own right. But not everyone was happy about her success. Emma had been like a sister to Rita, her best friend- she trusted her with everything. With an absent family at home, Emma was her family, which made their falling out all the more harder. As Rita rose to fame, she watched as Emma tried to wriggle out of her shadow, Rita had never thought of Emma as in her shadow- though she could see why others would think so. The conversations became more brief, she noticed as her expression soured and then at a party that was held in celebration of her new column, Rita watched as Emma kissed the man she’d been seeing, AUGUSTUS ROOKWOOD [former romantic liaison] and disappeared out the door. Rita would never let anyone know how much it hurt her. She cried in private, winged her eyeliner and wore a brave face for work. It stung harder when Emma and Augustus made things official, but she’d never let it show. Rita had her column and her fame and not even Emma could take that from her. 

The disappearances and the eventual murders of BOOKER BAGNOLD [person of interest] and AMELIA BONES [person of interest] were more than just tabloid gossip. Rita was desperate to figure out who was behind the murders. The werewolf angle didn’t fit, so under the guise of her column, Rita attended exclusive events trying to find out information. A face in the crowd that had changed after the death of Booker. Harrison Bagnold and his girlfriend ROSALINE DAVIS [person of interest] had a knack for being around everyone who went missing, though it could just be coincidence. Alongside her photographer BENEDICT MISSLETHORPE [colleague], Rita has been following him to various events, including the most recent wedding of her former adversary GENEVIEVE AVERY-WILKES [adversary/person of interest]. Rita didn’t expect Genevieve’s husband to drop down dead at the wedding and divert her focus, although Rita is exploring the story on the killer bride, Rita has not yet exhausted the idea Harrison is in some way connected to what’s happened, and she is determined to get to the bottom of it before anyone else. Especially Emma.

— she is a LEVEL 6 WITCH & readied for war ;

[chasingfictions]

guys ive seen the "now do we suspect there may be some kind of a connection between ben and glory" scene so many times in gifs that i forgot it's funny???? but babes she's fucking funny :))) jjklsjdasl like truly ok james emma and tony are carrying this scene but everyone is really bringing it i just love them so much. look at his lil squiggled up face im so happy. look at him serving absolute agony

literally i want ben! glory! he's a doctor she's the beast! on a t shirt

.. also i know we've all discussed this but spike apocalypse hair my beloved

[books-and-draws-eclectic]

Emma and Julian would definitely visit for Jem's birthday.

Emma gifts him violin music sheets written by her dad (she feels comfortable doing this because she KNOWS that Jem would honor and take care of her dad's memory)

She also gives him a "Happy Birthday Great-Uncle" card.

When Jem looks at it closely, he sees an "x 10" squiggled near the "Great", and laughs.

[fishiegil]

Can I get ray and Norman from the promised neverland with a s/o who is an artist

As an artist myself, I would love to write that for you, Anon, dearest. 😌 They are such cutie-pies, and I looooved writing this, WOW. 🤍🖤 This is set during a time before the truth of the House is revealed, by the way. IT TOOK FOREVER, I’M SO SORRY! Here you go!! Also, OOPS, NORMAN SORT OF PROPOSED. -♓︎

I headcanon that:

If Norman has an s/o who is an artist...

Neither of the boys are very vocal about it, but Norman’s method of supporting your hobby is gentle and satisfying.

“Hey, Norman!”

“Wha-? WhaAUGH!?”

Norman is downright spooked by your voice in his ear and proceeds to fall on his butt in the dirt. You dangle, upside-down, from a branch of one of the biggest trees in this patch of the forest. It’s earned the spot as your favorite tree; it’s heavily shaded, and has smooth branches big enough to have picnics on. Norman sounds beat when you hop down and take his hand.

“F/n! There you are... I’ve been looking- WAH!”

You eagerly yank him to a standing position, curling your fingers into the dips of his knuckles with one hand and wrapping your free one around his waist. For a hot second, his composure is gone with the wind, and he goes a cute pink in the face.

He’s totally frazzled as he stutters out, “F/n?! What- what is, I-I mean- What are-"

“It’s done!”

He freezes for a second, but when he remembers the newest project you’ve been working on nonstop to finish, a delightful grin curves his lips and reaches his eyes. You’re both positively bouncing with the anticipation on your way up the tree, to your branch. Your easel and canvas rest on the flattest surface, covered in a white sheet.

Norman always gets excited when you showcase your projects to him first. You’re big on painting, and capturing nature is your forte.

He gasps with a childlike wonder as you reveal your masterpiece.

You paid careful attention to detail; the color-changing leaves on the tree writhed to life above the twisting tree branch, representing the untamed mystery that is nature. The warm colors of fall dominate the piece, unified by the closure of the outskirts of the painting. Some real leaves had flown in your direction and stuck to the painting, so they became part of it.

Norman’s no art critic, but he knows you have a way with combining your passion with Mother Nature, and fully believes that everything you paint couldn’t be balanced out more perfectly.

“It’s amazing,” he breathes. You wield a proud smile, and pull him to sit with you. For a while, you sit together and just look on at it. But while you’re totally scrutinizing it, Norman is appreciating it, and you. When he speaks again, his voice is dreamy.

“F/n... When we grow up, and I get a job, and earn enough money to travel all over the outside world, would you... Would you marry me, and then, we can travel all the time, and you can paint every landscape you’ve ever wanted.” He looks at you when you just laugh.

“Norman, you’re so silly.” You’re going to marry him anyway, whether he has money or not.

His lips press into a bashful squiggle, with his eyes squeezed shut. But a smooch to the apple of his cheek makes them pop open again.

“Your silly is my favorite.” 🤍

If Ray has an s/o who is an artist...

Ray’s as aloof as the Grace Field kids come.

“Thank you, Mama!” Ray turns to see Mama hand you a sleek, black sketchbook. She had it shipped to the House when you informed her you entirely filled your old one.

Sure, Ray knows of your devotion to art. He also knows that you’re the timid type about it. So timid, in fact, that Ray actually has no clue exactly what kind of art it is you do. Do you paint? Or do you press flowers, perhaps?

You have shown your art to precisely one person: Emma. She’s the least opinionated kid in Grace Field. As a matter of fact, she doesn’t have a mean bone in her whole body. The younger children have much to say, and can be cruelly honest, as young children are. As fate would have it, you are of the faint at heart. Not once have you ever put yourself in a position to be criticized.

He’s something of a hypocrite, but if anyone asks, he’ll deny it. He has secretive tendencies, but if the situation concerns you, he’ll poke his nosey nose into anything and everything.

He doesn’t say this out loud ever, but he’s petty because only Emma has seen your works. You don’t even accidentally leave the full sketchbooks lying around for him to snoop, how dare you.

So one late evening, he trudges after you to your little drawing space; it’s not much other than a secluded corner, cushioned by blankets and pillows, tented by an old sheet Mama let you keep. A tiny lamp provides just enough light for you in that dark corner. You hold an ink pen, scribbling away.

“Hey.” Your heart jumps to your throat, and you scramble to hide your latest page.

You peek out over the cover. The innocence of your round, curious eyes have Ray’s heart skipping.

“You’ve only ever shown Emma your art before. Can’t I see?”

It’s quiet. For a long while, that’s how you both stay. He just stares at you, saying nothing else. You do just as much.

When he thinks that he should give up, you quietly give in. “I-... Okay...”

He invites himself in your tent and plops his butt down right next to you, so you’re shoulder to shoulder. An arm snakes around your stomach before he lets out a quiet, but clearly stunned, “Oh.”

A page is already filled from top to bottom with various sketches. Nonsensical patterns, objects that lay around the House, and even some of your siblings found their way into your sketchbook. In the top right corner, you had drawn him, too. Three times, actually. One cleaned sketch, one with smooth line art, and one shaded in with ink.

The drawing of him with his signature floof of hair out of his eyes catches his attention. You clearly paid the most care to that one. All he can do is smirk.

“You like it when my hair’s outta my face?”

You choke on air and whirl in his direction, preparing for a judgemental look which you assume you’re about to get.

Leisurely, he sweeps a hand up his face, pushing his fringe behind his ear. When it’s secure, he flashes you a relaxed grin. Finally, finally, you crack a smile. It’s a radiant, grateful smile, and it reaches from ear-to-ear. Without a word, you bury your face in his neck, nuzzling into his shirt. You laugh, feeling silly for thinking Ray would judge you harshly at all. His cheeks flash with red, but he only squeezes you a little more.

The other kids have enough sense not to invade your private space when you’re working. Ray does not. It doesn’t apply to him because he’s your boyfriend, don’t you know. (That’s how he words it, at least.)

These days, he comes to your side in your tent and just watches you draw. The scent of ink on fresh parchment is relaxing. He pushes his fringe away from his face more often, but claims that it’s just a new habit, shut up. When he does, you give him a little kissy on the cheek you now get to see.

“Mrrghmhm.” He grumbles but he likes it, don’t even lie, Ray.

He has nice handwriting, and occasionally leaves a smooth, pretty heart at the bottom, or a smiley face with its tongue out, and you let him. He’s a corn dog.

Not long after, he convinces you to show your art to everyone else. To your utter relief, you don’t have to worry about the kids being rude—they quickly fall in love with your art style and beg you to draw around them more.

Thoma and Lanni are the “CAN YOU PLEASE DRAW ME” kids.

You’re infinitely grateful for Ray’s ability to coax you out of your shell. You couldn't be happier. 🖤