#kind of reminds me of the kid from the conjuring

[blackberrysummerblog]

Happy Easter to all of you who celebrate! After a rotten Friday at the animal shelter where I work, I got a very pleasant surprise yesterday when a pregnant stray who came in gave birth to five live and healthy kittens! I might share some pics later on :) In the meantime, thank you @forabeatofadrum and @you-remind-me-of-the-babe for the tags this morning, as well as everyone else who’s continued to tag me on other days. I’ve been pretty slow writing lately, but I do have some shares this week!

First, a bit of kid!Baz POV from my COBB:

In the afternoons, I do my homework as soon as we get home and sometimes call my father. He never has much to say. I’ll offer to help Dev with his work and then water the herbs in the conservatory, reminding myself of the names and uses of each one. Dogtooth violet to stop gossip, bay leaves for wish making and prophetic dreams. Tarragon for confidence, St. John’s Wort to stave off colds and fevers. Basil can drive off dark spirits. I rub the leaves between my fingers, remembering Ebb’s lessons as the fresh summer scent breaks across my skin. “Basil can dispel confusion, boys. It turns back fear and weakness, and is used in exorcisms. Carry it with you to protect yourselves from danger, or spread it on the ground to keep away evil. It’s also sometimes used to bring lovers together.” Dev had elbowed me and sniggered, because of course we both associate the herb with my name. I don’t see how any of it relates to me, but it doesn’t really matter. It’s just what I’m called.

And the next is from a sequel I suddenly started writing to Field Trip of Dreams (god I still hate that that’s the title I gave it). I wouldn’t say it’s necessary to read the first fic, although it gives context for the fact that Baz and Simon are dating in eighth year, and everyone but the Mage knows it. It’s a longish share, but I’m enjoying writing so have it:

“Isolation Cabin?” Basilton is repeating in disbelief. His eyes narrow. “But Sir, whatever will we do if we get to talking and discover we were separated at birth?”

Simon understandably pales, but Davy merely snorts and waves a dismissive hand. “Unlikely, Mr. Pitch. Now, both of you grab your rucksacks while I conjure a bird to lead you to the cabin. It’s…out of the way.”

The rest of the students are in fits, but of course Davy doesn’t notice. He pays attention to nothing and nobody when he thinks he’s in the right. Simon has shouldered his own pack and is staring into the middle distance, refusing to look at anyone. Of course, Natasha Pitch’s son has to get in one last dig: “What’s next, a get-along shirt?”

Basilton’s unimpressed expression is fooling no one—I know blessed well that he’d only love that. “Davy,” I try one last time. “This weekend is supposed to be providing these students with a chance to learn how to get along as a community of mages. Splitting two of them off will deprive them of the chance—”

“Miss Possibelf.” I suppose it’s amusing that after all these years Davy doesn’t dare use my first name. “I know what I’m doing. Boys this age need a firm hand—” How does he not hear the sniggering going on behind him? “—and I’ve had just about enough.” After seven years. Seven years, and he’s had enough? Davy finally acknowledges me enough to turn and lower his voice. “Quite frankly, one of them has nothing to learn about survival, while the other doesn’t need to.” This last part is said in a hushed whisper, even though from the way Basilton’s eyebrow lifts, I’m certain he heard it.

I share his disdain for the sentiment, however, I’m not particularly concerned about his chances—here, or anywhere else. “Fine,” I snap, throwing my hands up. It’s not as though this trip isn’t always an annual excuse for all kinds of unsanctioned…exploration. Simon and Basilton aren’t likely to get up to anything they haven’t already, and I have bigger fish to fry given the amount of alcohol students traditionally smuggle on this fool’s exercise. David Cadwallader can be as blind as he likes, but some of us are left nursing the hangovers.

No pressure holiday tags: @rimeswithpurple, @artsyunderstudy, @cutestkilla, @c0nsumemy5oul, @tender-ministrations, @nausikaaa, @thewholelemon, @orange-peony, @youarenevertooold, @carryonsimoncarryonbaz, @ivelovedhimthroughworse, @letraspal, @bookish-bogwitch, @nightimedreamersghost, @aristocratic-otter, @brilla-brilla-estrellita, @hushed-chorus, @prettygoododds, @supercutedinosaurs, @shutup-andletme-go, @aceumbrellaheroes, @asocialpessimist, @wellbelesbian, @ic3-que3n, @raenestee , @larkral, @facewithoutheart, @papierhaikuphoto, @cows4247, @stitchy-queerista, @carry-on-big-bang, @imagineacoolusername, @ileadacharmedlife, @confused-bi-queer, @j-nipper-95, @jasonfunderberkerthefrogexists, @iamamythologicalcreature, @bazzybelle, @valeffelees

[hils79]

Hils Watches Conjuring Curse - Part 3

Part 3 very much later than the rest because I had to pause 10 mins from the end for my weekly group watch and then dinner

He's back!

Wu Xie/Murals is the true DMBJ OTP

I mean that's kind of Wu Xie's thing

Pangxie communicating with just a look was a nice touch

Well, is it really DMBJ if no one is hallucinating

Holy shit is this entire movie one big hallucination? That's up there with Time Raiders and Wu Xie's 'yeah, I made that whole thing up'

Aww this reminds me of the stupid CGI monster at the end of Lost Tomb 2.5

I love that it clawed a hole in Xiaoge's hoodie but didn't hurt him at all

Peacock monster?

HAHA! Amazing! The hole in his hoodie was just so we could get this lil peek at his tattoo

Again with the whole leaving Xiaoge behind thing. I don't like it.

It's not quite cool guy walking away from an explosion in slow motion but close enough

Oh no Wu Xie is now deeply hallucinating

And of course he's seeing his uncle. This poor kid and all his trauma

Definitely not me crying because Pangzi and Xiaoge were there to snap him out of it

Gosh I am so soft for these idiot boys

That was...fine? It was a fun action adventure story, but I don't think it contributed anything new to the existing canon. I'm curious why they decided to set this right before the Iron Triangle retire to Yucun but then cast such young actors. Honestly, this could have been set during any period of DMBJ and it would have made no difference to the plot.

So, yeah, enjoyable but probably not one I'll come back to and watch again.

Edit: @silver-colour pointed out there was a mid-credit scene so I'm back

XIAO HUA!

IS HE TALKING ABOUT RUSSIA???

Was that Ji Xiaobing's voice? I couldn't tell

It's sad that that scene was more exciting than the rest of the movie 😂

Who is Xiao Hua sending to them though?

[pollenallergie]

Stuffy Noses and Skimpy Costumes

AN: Just a fluffy fic about the reader being sick on Halloween and best friend!Eddie skipping a party to hang out with her. I decided to write this at the very last minute because I forgot about Halloween until literally this morning, so um… this has definitely not been proofread. Shwoopsie. Still worth the read tho! Also, it's still technically Halloween where I'm at right now, so mission accomplished, team!

TW: None, I think? Eddie’s a bit of a perv, but what else is new. Discussions of illness (mucus is briefly mentioned, but other than that it’s pretty benign stuff).

18+ only!!

do not interact if you’re under 18 years old!

It’s only six in the morning when Eddie is jolted awake by the sound of the landline ringing in the living room of the trailer. He hears Wayne grumble from the kitchen, having just gotten home from work and definitely not thrilled about his pre-sleep cigarette break getting interrupted. Wayne answers the phone and huffs out an unenthusiastic greeting into the receiver. Eddie sighs in relief once the ringing stops and rolls over in an attempt to get a few more minutes of sleep.

“Kid, it’s for you!” Wayne shouts at Eddie from the other room, interrupting his attempts at sleep.

A few expletives tumble past Eddie’s chapped lips as he flings back the covers and clumsily stumbles out of bed. He makes his way to the den, bumping his hip on the kitchen counter on the way there, causing him to grumble out a few more swears. He grabs the phone from Wayne and holds it up to his ear.

“Hello?” He murmurs grumpily while using his free hand to rub the sleep out of his eye.

“Hey, Eddie,” Eddie detects the guilt in your tone almost immediately, along with the usual nasliness that you get this time of year; the changing seasons have always done a number on your sinuses. He perks up a bit as his brows furrow in concern.

He clears his throat, ridding his voice of its usual morning raspiness, before asking, “What’s wrong, bug?”

On the other end of the call, you crumble. Of course Eddie could tell something was wrong. Eddie could always tell when something was wrong. He could read you like a book.

“I’m not gonna be able to go to Nick Paulson’s party with you tonight.” You mumble out pitifully as you nervously pick and pull at the dead skin on your lips.

“Why not? What’s the matter?” Eddie had already kind of assumed that you’d bail on him; he knows how nervous you get at parties. However, he still wants to know what tall-tale you’ve conjured up to excuse yourself from it.

Except, you don’t offer him some lame excuse. “I’m sick, grub. I think it’s just a cold, but there’s so much pressure in my head right now and I feel awful,” You explain, pausing halfway through to pull your face away from the receiver and hack out a mucus-y cough, Eddie winces at the sound of it.

“Fuck, jitterbug, you sound awful.”

“I know,” You reply pitifully in a tone that borders on whiny. Sniffles soon follow.

“Bug, why’re you crying?” Eddie asks gently.

“Don’t feel good, Eddie,” you whine. You tend to get a little sensitive when you’re sick, you’ve always been like that. Eddie should be used to it, given how much you got sick as a kid, but it still breaks his heart all the same.

“I know, bunny. I’m sorry,” He coos, “Need me to stay home with you today?”

“You can’t Eddie; you gotta get your attendance up,” You remind him, tone still laced with misery.

“Bug-”

“I’ll be fine, Eds. Just promise me that you’ll come show me your costume before you leave for the party tonight?” You plead.

“Fuck, bunny, I’m not going to that damn party, not without you. How about I come over tonight and we can just hang out or somethin’? I could go rent us some movies and get us some snacks after school, maybe pick up some medicine for you too, sicky-poo. How’s that sound?” Eddie offers.

“But what about the money? Weren’t you only going so that you could deal to Nick and his friends?”

Eddie clears his throat before whispering his reply so that Wayne won’t hear it, “I’ll um… I’ll just meet up with them after school and do it then.”

“Are you sure? What about the guys? Weren’t they gonna meet us there?” You ask.

“Nah, the little cowards backed out yesterday at lunch. Didn’t really figure they’d go anyways; it’s not really our scene,” He informs you, “‘sides, you know I’ll have way more fun watching movies with you than I could ever possibly have at some lame house party, even if I gotta listen to you hack up a lung every so often.”

“I know, I just feel bad,” You murmur.

“Well don’t, bug, because you’re actually doing me a favor,” Eddie looks over at the clock briefly, “I should probably start getting ready for school. I’ll be at your place at six, ‘s that okay?”

“In costume?” You ask hopefully, causing Eddie to huff out a laugh.

“No, bug, I planned on showing up naked,” He teases and you fluster.

“You’re a dick,” you grumble and he chuckles in response.

“Yes, I’ll show up in costume. You feel up to wearing yours? Would hate to be the only one in costume.”

It’s tradition for you both to surprise each other with your costumes on the day of Halloween, so he’s secretly hoping that you’ll say yes.

“Yeah, I can manage that. I’ll see you later tonight.”

“Alright, goodbye, bunny.”

“Adíos, flittermouse.”

Eddie snorts at your pet name for him before hanging up.

You’d been sick on Halloween before, Eddie remembers it all too well. It was back in the fifth grade. You’d caught strep throat from Kimmy Owens that week and had been stuck at home with it for three days prior, so your mom had barred you from going trick-or-treating. Eddie was determined for you to not miss out, though, so he went trick-or-treating for the both of you. He’d asked your mom to take a picture of you in your costume, a homemade witch ensemble that you’d looked adorable in, with her polaroid. Then, that night, he’d taken two bags with him for candy as well as that picture of you, and, at each house he’d stopped at, he made sure to show whoever answered the door your picture before asking if he could grab some candy for you since you were stuck at home with strep throat.

The moms and grandmas of Hawkins thought it was absolutely adorable, Eddie walking around in the wizard costume that your mom had made for him and trick-or-treating for his sickly friend. Especially since he’d carried around a picture of you as if he needed proof that the additional candy he grabbed wasn’t just extra candy for himself. A few of them even gave him some extra candy for himself just for being such a good friend, but, at the end of the night, he made sure to divide the small pile of the extra candy from his bag in half so that he could split it with you. Eddie then hand delivered your candy, stuffing it in the tiny mailbox attached to your trailer to make sure that the other kids in the trailer park wouldn’t steal it.

That Halloween had been his least favorite, at least, of the ones he’d had since Wayne took him in, simply because he didn’t get to see you at all that day. However, much like he was on that particular Halloween, Eddie is determined to make sure that you don’t miss out on too much of the festivities.

True to his word, Eddie shows up on your doorstep at six on the dot, adorned in his Boromir costume, complete with a fake beard, while holding a few plastic bags filled with snacks, some feel-better-soon essentials, and movies. He knocks on the door with his elbow because his hands are full, and then eagerly waits for you to open it, excited to show you his costume that he spent months on.

All of the air leaves his lungs when you open the door, revealing your costume to him. You’ve chosen to go as Jessica 6 from the Logan’s Run TV series and are dressed in your recreation of her pink dress from episode two. It’s short, really short, showing off your legs which are completely bare, as you had forgone any tights or pantyhose in the name of comfort. The silence is deafening and you’re left feeling a bit unsure of yourself.

“It looks stupid, doesn’t it?” You question shyly.

“No! No, you look,” Eddie gulps, “You… Did you make this?”

“Yeah, with my mom’s help. You know how much the sewing machine and I despise each other,” You joke, tone still laced with insecurity.

Eddie quickly tries to think of a compliment that he can give you without sounding like a total creep.

You look hot.

Nope.

Nice legs.

Definitely not.

He settles on, “You look pretty.”

Your breath hitches and he worries that he’s said the wrong thing.

“Thank you. You, um, you look hairy,” You grimace at your failed attempt at a compliment and quickly correct yourself, “I mean, you look great! It’s that guy from Lord of the Rings cartoon, right? The warrior from, um, Condo was it?”

“Gondor,” Eddie corrects with a smirk. “And yes, I am Boromir.”

You don’t have to ask if Eddie made his costume, you already know that he did; he almost always does. If he weren’t so hellbent on keeping up this tradition of surprising each other with your costumes, then he’d offer to help you make yours too.

“You gonna keep that beard on all night, dimples?” You ask while taking one of the bags from him and leading him inside. “It looks itchy.”

“‘Course I am, bunny; can’t go breakin’ character,” Eddie replies as he sets down the bag on your mom’s coffee table before fishing out the movies he’d rented.

“I wasn’t sure if you’d be up to watching any slasher films tonight since you’re diseased,” Eddie begins.

“I have a sinus infection, asshole, I’m not ‘diseased.’”

“Infected, then,” He amends, “So, I picked up Gremlins, The Rocky Horror Picture Show, The Dark Crystal, and, just in case you are down to watch a horror movie, Carrie, because I know it’s your favorite.”

“Grub, that’s a bit excessive, isn’t it? Are we even going to be able to watch four movies?” You question as you begin getting out the snacks.

“I have faith in us,” Eddie simply replies as he sets the movies down and gets out the stuff he picked up for you from the pharmacy. “I wasn’t sure what you guys already had here, so I just picked up a couple things; some tissues, vapor rub, gatorade because I know you’re probably dehydrated, saline spray, and ole reliable, NyQuil.”

You smile fondly at him, still surprised by his generosity even after all these years, and hug him from behind, nuzzling your face in between his shoulder blades. He tenses up briefly before chuckling softly and melting into your embrace.

“You’re my favorite person alive right now, Eds,” You sigh warmly and his heart swells with joy at the sound. It takes him back to the first time you said that to him, at your eighth birthday party.

“You’re my favorite person alive right now!” You’d shouted as you engulfed him in a big hug, practically tackling him with the force of it.

He’d gotten you an art set that year. It was nothing fancy, just a cheap one from the local toy store, but, in your eyes, it was the greatest gift you had ever received.

That memory combined with the feeling of your arms wrapped around his waist has Eddie fighting off the urge to tell you how much he loves you. Instead, he settles for turning around in your embrace so that he can hug you back.

“I’m sorry you don’t feel well, jitterbug,” He murmurs into your hair as he takes in the sweet smell of your shampoo. You hug him just a bit tighter in response.

The two of you stay like that, wrapped up in each others’ arms, for a while, far past exceeding the time limit of what can be considered a purely platonic hug. Although, neither of you seem to mind, nor do you seem eager to let go. Eventually, though, you do let go, heat rising to your face as you move out of Eddie’s arms.

“Carrie first?” You ask as you go to grab the stack of VHS tapes that Eddie brought.

“Yeah, sounds good,” Eddie clears his throat as rosie blush tints his pale skin from the apples of his cheeks to the tips of his ears, “I’ll start the pizza.”

He grabs one of the frozen pizzas he bought and moves into the kitchen to preheat the oven, sparing a single glance back into the living room so that he can see what you have on under that dress when you bend over to fiddle with the VCR. Eddie’s slightly disappointed when he sees a pair of short dolphin shorts rather than the pretty cotton panties that he was expecting.

Perv, he mentally berates himself, shaking his head as if to clear his mind of all the impure thoughts, and then turning to focus on the task at hand. Eddie waits a few minutes for the oven to heat up before tearing off the pizza’s plastic wrapping and sliding it in the oven. He then sets your mom’s little plastic tomato kitchen timer to eighteen minutes before joining you in the living room again.

“Pizza should be done in 18,” He informs you casually as he flops down onto the couch.

“Do you wanna wait for it to get done before starting the movie, or do you wanna just go ahead and watch it?” You ask him, now knelt in front of the VCR with your dress just barely covering up your shorts.

“Go ahead and press play, bug, I’ll get the pizza when it’s ready,” Eddie replies. You do as requested before scrambling to turn off the lights in the living room. You’re about to make your way to the recliner when you notice Eddie making grabby hands at you.

“C’mere, indulge me, bug,” He pouts and you roll your eyes, as if his pleading doesn’t make your heart skip a beat. You give in, not that you were putting up much of a fight in the first place, and plop down next to Eddie, allowing him to maneuver you until you’re nearly in his lap, your bare legs pressed against his as he clings to you.

God bless whoever designed Boromir’s outfit for that movie, you think.

The two of you spend the rest of the night like that, watching movies and cuddling, save for the few times you both have to get up to either grab something or use the bathroom. It’s not much different from the last few Halloweens you spent together, except that the preamble to this movie night was not a brief bout of trick-or-treating (Eddie may be an adult, but he isn’t ready to give that up just yet) due to your illness. Other than that, the only real differences are your sickly state and the fact that you’ve opted for a more revealing costume this year. Granted, the latter difference does get Eddie a little too excited, especially with your plump thighs out on display, one even making contact with his own. So excited, in fact, that he has to leave to go take care of himself in the bathroom halfway through the second movie. If you notice that he’s been gone for an inordinate amount of time, you don’t say anything, and for that he is eternally grateful.

[wrenreid]

Off Limits

content warning: none i can think of

Part Four

I’ve been watching Hotch’s son for five days now. I got a call from him this morning apologizing for leaving me with Jack for so long.

“I really don’t mind, Hotch,” I told him.

It’s true. I’ve always liked kids; well, at least the sweet ones. And I don’t have any kids of my own. Babysitting is a way to take care of children and be able to give them back eventually. I think it’s a pretty good deal.

Anyway, it’s not like I’m alone. Jade is here 90% of the time; the other 10% she’s with friends. I suppose it’s nice having company other than a four year old. We’ve stayed up in the living room talking almost every night after Jack goes to sleep.

We haven’t talked about much, but it’s been nice just to talk. She doesn’t seem to mind when I go on tangents about anything my brain can conjure up. I like that because as tolerant as my coworkers are, their faces always show when they want me to quit rambling. Jade’s facial expressions don’t grow irritated and bored when I spill out my knowledge. She may not really care, but she doesn’t show that. I appreciate it.

She a lot like her dad in some ways, but I don’t think she notices. She’s stubborn and intelligent. I can also tell by examining her body language and the way she talks that she’s a natural born leader. Maybe that’s why Morgan has always called her little Hotch.

When I first met her, I was 23, and she was 16. Her dark hair reminded me of Hotch’s, but it was more chocolate while his was more ebony. Her eyes are dark too, but there’s a hint of hazel in them, like Haley had. Her eyes have gotten a little darker now that she’s aged some years.

Some may say it’s strange that I notice these things, but I notice everything. Details stick out to me. I’ve also noticed how she has a wall she’s put up behind her eyes, keeping those looking into them from seeing her feelings. The wall isn’t as strong or thick as her fathers, but it’s still there.

I have one of those too, I’ll admit. If I remember correctly, I began building that wall at 10 years old. 18 years later, I’d like to say it’s pretty sturdy.

Some might think it’s a bad thing to create those barriers between yourself and the outside world. But from my point of view, it’s a safety net. Why would one wear their heart on their sleeve and risk others using that to their advantage when they can hold all the cards themselves?

All this to say, I don’t blame her for the extra support in front of her emotions.

“Hey,” Jade says with a yawn, her steps making soft thud sounds on the hardwood stairs.

“Hi,” I give her a small wave from my spot on the couch. Jack is watching cartoons on the tv while he sits on the floor, his legs crossed in a pretzel.

Jade slept in this morning, and I told Jack to be a little quieter so she could stay asleep.

It’s 11am now when she heads into the kitchen. She comes back a minute later with a bowl of cereal in her hands. She sits down a little bit away from me on the couch, shelving a spoonful of the cheerios into her mouth as soon as she’s situated.

Her hair’s messy, but it’s kind of flattering somehow. Jade’s dressed in a white t shirt too big for her and black shorts that are hardly visible underneath the shirt.

“How’d you sleep?” I ask, just trying to make conversation. Usually, I don’t bother for small talk, but I figure it can’t do any harm.

Jade finished chewing the handful of cereal in her mouth, swallows, then answers. “Pretty well. I appreciate sleeping in for the first time in a while.”

“Not a morning person?”

She shrugs. “Not particularly. You?”

I furrow my eyebrows a little. “I’d rather sleep in than get up early, but I hardly ever get to. I usually go to bed late too. So I guess you could say I’m more of a night person,” I tell her.

“Me too. I just like night better,” Jade says. “It’s quiet and less bright.”

“Research shows those considered ‘night owls’ are more intelligent and creative than those who wake up early.”

“I guess our brains just need more rest after a hard day of being smarter than everyone else,” she says with a grin.

I laugh softly at that. “I suppose so.”

“Would you want to go to the park today?” She asks, and I almost think she’s asking me on a date of some sorts until I glance back at her and see she’s talking to her brother.

“Yes!” Jack exclaims excitedly.

“Okay. If you go put this in the sink for me, I’ll take you and we can play catch,” Jade says, holding out her bowl.

Jack realizes what she’s doing, but agrees to her terms. He rises from his place on the living room rug and makes his way to the living room with her bowl in his hands.

“That was devious,” I say with a slight chuckle.

“It was strategic. I didn’t want to get up off the couch, and he wants something I can give him. It’s good thinking,” Jade says, tapping her fingertips to her head.

I shake my head, but a smile creeps up onto my lips. “I’m glad I didn’t have any older siblings.”

She laughs softly. “Me too.”

Jack comes back, his hands on his hips. “So, when we going to the park?”

“How about one? I need a shower,” Jade tells him.

“One?” Jack whines.

“That’s only about two hours. Five and a half cartoons,” she says.

“Fine,” he sighs with quite a bit of emotion behind it for a four year old.

The desired time for said four year old rolls around, and Jade keeps to her word. They’re both dressed now. Jack in jeans and a light weight jacket and Jade in thin black joggers and a slightly baggy t shirt.

“You don’t have to go with us if you need a break from you know who,” Jade tells me as she reties Jack’s shoelace that he did himself.

“Actually, I’d like to go if that’s okay. It’s a nice day,” I say with a soft smile.

“Suit yourself,” she shrugs, grabbing her keys off one of the hooks on the wall.

“Your version of a nice day is quite different from most people’s,” Jade laughs once we’re walking through the park to find a suitable spot.

There’s several people here, some on bikes, some talking on benches, some playing football, some playing with their children. The light grey clouds in the sky are covering up the sun just enough so that it’s not too bright out. It looks like it may rain tonight. The April weather is still somewhat cold, leftover from winter, but it isn’t so chilly that one would need many layers.

I look up at the sky and around us. “The sun isn’t blinding my eyes. Nice day.”

“Valid,” she shrugs. She’s holding hands with Jack, his little legs setting our pace much slower than my usual walk. I don’t mind.

“Right here’s good,” Jade points to an area of the park with green grass and enough space for a kid her brother’s age to play in. There’s a bench just across the concrete path from it.

Jack pulls her onto the grass, his ball in his other hand. “Go far,” he tells her.

She goes about five four away from him.

“Farther than that!”

Jade takes two more steps back. “We’ll start out here, okay?”

“Okay,” he says and throws her his ball.

It’s plastic ball the size of a softball. It’s not hallow, but it’s not too heavy to where it would hurt bad if one got hit with it.

She catches it and underhand- tosses it back. He catches it too. This goes on for a while, and I sit on the bench a small distance away from them. I brought two books to read while we’re here.

Eventually, Jade declares she is quitting the game of catch with her brother. He whines a bit, but she reminds him they’ve been playing for half an hour.

She takes a seat next to be on the bench, Jack sits in front of her on the ground, rolling his ball around.

“Whatcha reading?” Jade asks, looking over my shoulder curiously.

I close the book to show her the cover. She reads the title.

“It’s about a time traveler. Usually I read nonfiction, but the occasional Sci-fi or dark fantasy peeks my interested,” I tell her.

“Dark fantasy,” Jade smirks. “Sounds kinky.”

My face heats up, letting me know I’m definitely blushing which is a little embarrassing.

“N-not like that. Like Lord of the Rings,” I say.

“I know, Spence. I was teasing you,” she says with a little laugh.

“Right,” I give her an awkward laugh in return.

I’m still not exactly used to detecting sarcasm or teasing. I’ve gotten better at realizing when those two devices are being used, but occasionally, they’ll slip past me. Perks of being autistic (sarcasm). I’ve gotten pretty good at detecting mannerisms and reading unsubs, but somehow a joke will still fly over my head.

Jade grins, shaking her head. Her hair brushes my face briefly, and I involuntarily smell the shampoo she just used an hour and a half ago. It smells good. Oats and vanilla I believe.

She twirls her hair for a moment, the brown strands curling around her finger. In the natural lighting, I can see all the different colors in her hair. There’s chocolate brown, caramel, walnut, and even some mixtures of red where the sun shines on it. It’s pretty. It’s pretty and it smells good.

I snap out of my thoughts when Jack hops up from his seat. I’m relieved to have the kid release me from my thoughts. I shouldn’t be thinking about her like that. Even if it was just her hair, it’s still inappropriate.

—————

Jack pulls me back away from the bench.

“Piggy back ride,” he demands, but it’s kind of cute.

“You’re heavy.”

“Am not,” he says.

I roll my eyes, and bend down so he hand jump on. He does so excitedly, wrapping his arms around my neck.

I walk around with my brother on my back for a little bit until his short attention span is bored with me. Then he forces Spencer to give him a piggy back ride too.

It’s sweet watching the two of them together. Spencer’s good with kids. Better than I am and this one is my own brother.

I love Jack, I really do, but I was 17 when he was born, and it was weird to become a sister at that age. I was excited, of course, but still strange.

I also thought it was weird that my parents were having a baby at that age anyway. It’s not like they were old at all. In fact, Mom was only 35. But when it’s 17 years after your first, it’s a weird gap.

My mom and dad were young when they had me. Mom was 18 a freshman in college, and Dad was 20 and a junior. They’d been dating for three years already, but it’s safe to say I was not planned.

They didn’t let the unplanned baby ruin their plans for college though. Mom became a part time student instead, and both sets of my grandparents helped take care of me whenever needed.

Dad was still able to go to law school when I was three. I’m glad I didn’t ruin their lives completely. But Mom assured me I didn’t ruin it at all. She was honest when she said finding out about me was a minor set back, but she was also honest when she said they loved me no matter what.

Jack and Spencer play around, and I’m convinced to join in.

Eventually, I drive us back home. Jack lays down for a nap at 4, and at 7, I cook dinner instead of Spencer.

Eventually, I get Jack back into bed, but since he took his nap a little later, there was some resistance. Finally, at 11, he goes to bed. I make him promise he won’t tell Dad he went to bed that late, and he says he will if I get him ice cream tomorrow. I will be talking to Dad about why his child is a bargainer.

At midnight, I hear a weird sound from downstairs and go to scope it out.

I laugh softly when I see Spencer popping the popcorn I bought him a couple days ago.

“You weren’t kidding about the late night snack,” I grin, leaning against the kitchen counter.

He turns around, jumping a little. I scared him.

“I never kid about food, Jade,” he says and that makes me laugh a little more.

“Care to share?”

“Hmm,” he thinks for a moment. I scoff. “I suppose.”

“Want to watch a movie?” I ask him, not ready to go to bed.

He looks a little hesitant to say yes. Well, not really hesitant, but somehow nervous? “Yeah. Sounds good.”

five

tags: @pauline5525mgg @theintimatewriter @lilibet261 @greysviolets @jazzymariexoxoc @one-sweet-gubler @thatsonezesty13 @necromaniackat @awhoreforspencerreid @sebs-oxygen @crynroom @scarredelirium @reid1nspiration @bts-sugaplum @awesomeness1679 @preciousbabypeter @yazzyu @cynbx @r3idsp3ncer @1010lizz <3

[ohmightydevviepuu]

imperfect boys. perfect ploys. (this is a song about tragedy) [4/6]

“My ‘story’ is that I left a fucked-up situation and it kind of fucked me up,” he’d said.  But it was the way he’d said it, like it hadn’t broken him.  Like it was just a fact. But Emma’s life was a story, too.  A fucked-up situation that had kind of fucked her up.  She wasn’t that kid anymore.  Confidence could be learned.  And maybe—maybe—she wasn’t broken, either. Not if she picked up the pieces.  Not if she told herself a new story.  About who she was.  About what she wanted.  Roots, family, friends, a sense of the familiar—these did not have to be fairy tales. “You owe it to yourself,” Mary Margaret said. “Happy endings always start with hope.”

–

S3 post-neverland canon divergence. 20k of no-curse renaissance.

read it on AO3

to @wistfulcynic and @thisonesatellite who sat with me while we daydreamed on a hilltop in cornwall on the summer-iest summer day england has ever seen. it took me eight months but i got there in the end.

thank you to @shireness-says for time and feedback and kindness to the IAS @spartanguard @optomisticgirl @idoltina @initiala @thejollyroger-writer @phiralovesloki for always giving me a cheer when i needed it

--

twelve. 'what the kiss exposed.'

He could have told himself it was an hallucination.

After all, Killian had been three sheets to the wind when he’d seen Pan.  He could easily have imagined the exact combination of deepest sorrow and biggest nightmare conjured by the idea of Neal Cassidy being alive.  Only he knew Pan far too well to tell himself that.  The demon was many things; unfortunately, he was rarely a liar.  Why bother, when the truth was a far more potent weapon?

Thus, and so:  Neal sat at the other end of the cave—doubled over in a cage built for a boy, not a man.  Killan took a deep breath, seeing too late the moment when Emma noticed.  An echo of the same look she’d had when her mother blurted out Neal’s predicament.  The way she’d turned toward him immediately and for the first time Killian had been unsure.  Did she want him to confirm the story? To say that yes, Neal was alive?

Or was she hoping he said no?  That it was just another game?

What kind of man was he?

“I kissed Emma,” Killian said.  He said it to the cave.  To Neal.  To her parents.

To Emma.

It was a game, all right.  But he would play.

“My secret is that I never thought I’d be capable of letting go of my first love.  My Milah.”

Milah had been everything, for so long.  Too long.  Killian knew that now—knew the pain and anger and hate had ossified inside him during his time in Neverland.  He knew it now in a way he never could have before, because he’d left.  Somehow, in doing that, he had started to heal.

He hadn’t meant to.

It was only in coming back to the island that he could see it.

Or maybe it was in coming back with a new goal—save the boy—that clarified things.

Bae’s son.  Milah’s grandson.

Maybe it was the kiss he could still taste on his lips.  Not the first kiss he’d had since he’d lost Milah but surely the first kiss that mattered.  The first kiss that reminded him they could matter.

But villains didn’t get happy endings and all magic came with a price.  Killian had wanted to save Bae, too.  He’d given up his chance then but he could pay the price now and be glad for it, if that’s what it took.  “I never believed that I could find someone else,” he said.  His eyes were on Emma.  Only on Emma.  “Until I met you.”

The walls shook.  The ground shook.  Parts of the path began to materialize but Emma stood stock still, frozen where she stood.  Eyes wide and lips pressed together and face whiter than a sheet, she stood.  She said not a word—though she shuddered bodily as her mother’s confession and then her father’s caused more and more of the pathway to appear until finally it was her turn and she strode, still silent, all the way to the cage.

She still loved him.  Neal.  Killian knew that—had known it from almost the instant they’d met and she’d lied to him.  I’ve never been in love, she’d said, because she wanted it to be true.

Would she admit that—now, here?

Did she have a choice?

The cage surrounding Neal vanished and he hurled himself at Emma, into her open arms.  Together, they stood.  Together, they returned.

“Thank you,” Neal said.  “How—“

“We found your star map,” Killian said, forestalling any additional conversation.  “Can you get us off this island?”

Neal nodded.  “Once we find Henry, I can get us home.”

“Then let’s go get Tinker Bell and retrieve the boy.”  Killian led the way out of the cave with David and Snow close behind him.  Clearly, he was not the only one who had heard too many truths this night.

But then he heard something else.  Something he was probably not meant to hear.

“I’m sorry,” Emma said.

“Don’t be.  Because I have a secret, too, Emma.  I’m never gonna stop fighting for you.  For us.  Never.”

A man who refused to fight for what he wanted deserved what he got.  

But Neal had refused, before.

They both had.  Killian had let Bae go.  He had left the Savior in a cell.

Villains didn’t get happy endings.

So.  What kind of man was he?

thirteen. lunch (iv)

Lunch was fine.

Neal was trying.  Very.  And very hard.  The better part of a week, now, and Emma was starting to wonder how long this would last.  Six days, eleven months, eleven years—or a lifetime.

With Neal, she never knew; all she could do was wait.

She’d loved him.  She loved him.  She really was glad he hadn’t died.  Really.  What she’d said to him in the Echo Cave—well, it had been the truth and she’d said it to save him.

She’d said it to save herself.

And she might not regret it but he sure as shit seemed determined to overcome it, to do better, to Make an Effort.  He’d done everything except apologize.

But then there was this:  Hook and Tink, at the bar.  Emma’s mug was empty because Ruby was back there too, laughing as Hook’s flask went back and forth between the three of them.  Neal was watching—watching Hook—watching Emma watching Hook.

It was the clothes.

He’d changed them.

“You’re not worried about him or something are you?” The tone in Neal’s voice made her wary.  “He’s adaptable.  Obviously.”

“I’m not worried,” Emma said.  “Why would I worry about Captain Hook?”  The coat was gone.  The blazer-style leather jacket was absolutely an improvement, the way the sleek lines flowed over his back and his shoulders, but Emma had so rarely seen him without the coat that it was a shock. 

“You’re not even curious?”

“No,” she said.  “I’ve been kind of busy, Neal.  You know that.  We’re here together every day.  I pick up Henry from school.  We have dinner with my parents on the nights you’re not with your dad and Belle.  Have you even seen him try to talk to me since we’ve been back?”

“No.”  Neal picked up his cup and made a face when it was empty.  “He told me he wouldn’t.”

“What?”  She kept her voice even because she wasn’t surprised.  It hadn’t been scribbled on the rock of a Neverland cave or anything but the fiasco in the Dark Hollow had put the writing on the wall.

“When I talked to him.  You know, about us, and he—” Neal looked up then, his eyes searching for a respite or a refill but Ruby wasn’t there, not today, she was locked behind the bar watching them—the entire diner watching them all over again.  Listening.  

“I’m just wondering why he’s still here, I guess,” Neal said.  “It’s like I said, Em, you have this—this way about you.  It makes people think stuff they shouldn’t.  Believe in stuff they shouldn’t.  Want stuff they shouldn’t.  Makes them want to be a part of something.”

Emma blinked.

And again.

When she could speak she said, “He left me.”  It was the truth—he’d left her in the dungeon.  He’d left her on the docks, too.

But he’d come back.

fourteen. lunch (v)

Lunch was fine—Grilled cheese.  Swish-swish.  Grumpy.  She could do this— but then it wasn’t.  She should have seen it coming.

She should have planned for it.

She was a professional.

But they hadn’t talked about it, her and Neal.  Not about this or about any of the other things.  And definitely no one was saying the ‘m’ word.

Magic.

Regina was at the bar with Tink.  Regina and Tink.  Regina and Tink?  Emma knew enough to know that whatever she’d done to Tink was among the many things Regina didn’t regret.  She also knew it didn’t matter; they’d all gotten home, Tink included.  The Evil Queen and the former fairy were laughing as they talked.

“I think that’s the first time I’ve seen her in here,” Neal said.

A comment about Neal’s extensive Storybrooke experience died on Emma’s lips only because he was right.  She hadn’t seen Regina in the diner since the queen had pulled them out of the Wishing Well all of those months ago.

Another lifetime.

“What’s she doing here?” Neal said.

“Eating lunch, I guess.”  Emma gestured with her half-eaten grilled cheese.  “We’re supposed to meet up this afternoon.”

“You.  And her?”

Emma shrugged.  “She’s Henry’s mother.”  A thought occurred to her.  “And she’s my grandmother.  Sort of.  I guess.”  Wow, that Thanksgiving dinner would suck.

“And you’re okay with that.”  Neal was incredulous.

“I am.”

“I’m not.”

“Thank goodness you don’t get a say,” Emma said.  “We’re home and together because of her.”

“We’re home because of you.”

“And this is home now?  For you?  You’re staying?”

“My family is here.  Our family is here—”

“—including Regina—”

“And I meant it, Em.  I want to fight for us.”

Emma exhaled.  It was a lot, all of this.  All of these…moments.  She said, “Then we’re not fighting about Regina.”  The noise—the cup as she slammed it down, or maybe the rising pitch of her voice—made half the diner look up.  Including, thank fuck, Regina.  The Evil Queen raised her eyebrow and rolled her eyes and tapped her watch impatiently.

Emma stood.  Carefully.  Slowly.  “I have to go.  Apparently I’m already late for my magic lesson.”

“Your what?”

“Regina is teaching me magic,” Emma said, watching the look on Neal’s face freeze, then vanish.  “We’re meeting up every day to practice and, I don’t know.  Bond.”

“Since when?”

“Since today,” Emma said.  “Forgive me if we needed a couple of days to recover from inter-dimensional travel before figuring out the routine.”

“Do realms count as inter-dimensional travel?  That feels more like a video game thing,” Neal said, and Emma laughed.  Strained.  Forced.

“Ask Henry,” she suggested.  “I’ll see you later.”

Fine.  It was fine.

The bell rang and the door opened as if by magic, but Emma was watching Neal as she tried to walk through and was stopped by six feet of black leather and eyeliner.  The coat was gone, but it was still Captain Hook in front of her:  his uniform, his armor.  The perfect black marks hugging the waterlines of his eyes as he looked at her.

“Whoa.  Beware of lurking pirates.”

He didn’t answer but he did back away as if the impact of their collision had shocked him.

“Miss Swan?” Regina’s voice.  Regina, behind them.  Emma could practically hear the eyebrows accompanying the impatience and the sarcasm.  She looked up; their eyes caught, and held.  His crinkled at the edges with the twitch of his lips.  Hers narrowed as she took him in, top to bottom.

“Miss Swan!”

Hook snapped to attention, holding the door open.  “Your Majesty,” he said.  A gallant bow to accompany the exaggerated drawl.  “Sheriff.”

It was fine.

fifteen. 'i've yet yo see you fail'

I was hoping it meant something.

I believe in good form.

When I win your heart, Emma—and I will win it—it will not be because of any trickery.  It will be because you want me.

I have yet to see you fail.

All of it true.

None of it mattered.

He was a sentimental fool.  And now he was going to die because of it.

Having one’s shadow pulled was not for the faint of heart.  No, not pulled—ripped.  It left no room for thought; not of the past, not for the future.  Bae.  Neal.  Emma.  David.  Liam.  Henry.

There was only agony.

Agony, and failure.

The rest of it only came rushing back as he hit the ground.  Feelings filling in the void left by his failure.

Not hers.  Never hers.  Killian had seen her magic in the Enchanted Forest.  Had seen it repel Cora.  Cora.  And here she couldn’t even light a candle.  Because of them.

He had failed her.  They had failed her—distracted her.  They had put everything in jeopardy.

And the boy.

“We almost lost our shot at capturing the Shadow—and getting the hell out of here—because you two were fighting.  Over a lighter.” 

“It wasn’t the lighter we were fighting over, love,” Killian said.  It came out more defensive than he would have liked.  Less like the apology it should have been.  He was angry—everything he had said, everything that had passed between them—they had kissed.  And it had meant something.

He was sure of it.  

What meant something was that you told us Neal was alive.  That’s what she’d said.  And he’d chosen his friend, just as she had chosen Henry.  The anger faded.  Her only focus right now should be the boy.  Every moment here was another one in danger.  Every moment here was another chance for Pan.  A new game.  With new rules.

Peter Pan never failed.

But neither did Emma Swan, and Killian was tired of playing Pan’s games.  The mission—that was what mattered; finding Henry and getting him home.  That was why he had steered his ship back to Storybrooke in the first place.  Why he had given the heroes the bean and welcomed the Dark One and the Evil Queen and Prince-bloody-Charming on his ship, not because Emma Swan had asked him to but because Baelfire couldn’t.

If Killian was a man of honor, then he needed to honor that first.  No more games.  They would get the boy and get off this rock.  They would find a way.  That’s what heroes did.

Then—and only then—could the fun begin.

sixteen. magic lessons

White smoke.

A tiny curl—not even a puff, and certainly not a poof—but white smoke.   A lit candle.  The power sang beneath her skin.  The flame danced in time with her heartbeat.  Such a simple thing, to light a candle, but every nerve ending in her fingers tingled as she breathed in and out.  

“Hmm,” Regina said.  A noise more than a word.  Emma didn’t like the curve of her eyebrows as she said it, the furrow of the brow.  She didn’t like what came next, either:  “Do it again.”

“But—“ Emma gestured, emphatically, at the smoke.  So what if it was already fading?  The candle still danced when she moved.  “I did it!  And it wasn’t an accident, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

“Good.  Then do it again.”

Deep breath.  She had signed up for this.  Eyes closed, she reached for the flame, curling her hand around its heat, dimming it until it went out.  Flicked her wrist and focused—

“Miss Swan.”

White smoke.  Again.  Emma turned to Regina.  “I hate it when you call me that.”

“Again.”

“What?”

“Do it again.”

“Come on, that was pretty good!  Are you going to tell me that wasn’t—”

“No.  It was.  I’m sure it will be even better when you do it again.  Miss Swan.”

Steady, even breathing.  Focus.  She breathed in and out, her temper flaring but in check, her anger as fleeting as the smoke.  As she reached for the candle the only thing she felt was magic.  Magic, and rightness.

The flame flickered.  Regina was smiling, if it could be called a smile when her lips were pressed that closely together and her expression was that smug.  No, it wasn’t a smile.  “What’s with the—” Emma waved a hand in the air between them, mimicking Regina’s expression.  The flame flickered with her movement but did not go out.

“I could ask the same of you.”

Emma blinked.  “Huh?  What do you mean?”

“What is going on with you?”

“…nothing?” Emma winced; that had been nearly as convincing as Regina’s smile.

“You forget that I know magic—”

“As if you would ever let me,” Emma muttered.

“—and, as much as I’d rather not, I know you.  Miss Swan.  In Neverland, you were anxious.  Distracted.”

“Distracted?  Our son had been kidnapped by a fucking demon and his army of Lost Boys!”  The flame brightened.

“All the more reason to concentrate, don’t you think?  Magic is about emotion.  Magic is about focusing that emotion.  But you weren’t.  You could barely make smoke, and you could not light a candle to save your life.”

Emma swallowed.  That was—accurate.  “What are you saying, Regina?  Don’t be gentle.  It’s not like you.”

“Something’s happened.  Something’s changed.  The proof is right there.”  She pointed at the candle.  “You’re focused.  Determined.  You’re calm, Emma.  And I just want to make sure that, after everything, you’re not here wasting my time.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“We both know what your precious Neal thinks when it comes to magic,” Regina said.  “He’s terrified of it.  What are you going to say when he tells you to quit?  When he tells you not to trust me?  When he says that he doesn’t trust you, not with this?”

“He’s not my anything,” Emma said, bristling.

“Every day you parade him through that diner with the Charmings hovering in the background, waiting to announce the betrothal—”

The flame exploded, a miniature shower of sparks and black smoke.

“Hmmm.”  The not-smile was back.  “Now fix it.”

Emma’s phone buzzed in her pocket.  She pulled it out—just a text—and exhaled.  Slowly.  Breathing under control.  Because she could.  She could fix it.  She would—“Listen.”  

Regina’s face flashed white but it wasn’t anger.  And then before Emma could blink it was gone as if it had never existed.  

She shoved the phone back into the pocket and said “About Neal—”

Then she stopped.  Regina was right.  They knew each other, whether they wanted to or not.  They were family, whether they wanted it or not.  And what Emma wanted more than almost anything was for that word to mean something.  Something, anything, that would make their fucked-up family tree matter beyond the tangled backstory of a fairy tale—a choice, not an obligation.

So before she said another word Emma squared her shoulders and held her hand out.  The candle flared, shuddering in its soft dance.

“Neal is afraid of his father,” Regina said.  “But let me assure you, Miss Swan, that whatever he thinks of his father, I’ve seen all of it and worse.  I’ve survived all of it.  And worse.”

Emma didn’t say a word.  She didn’t move, or breathe; even the candle stilled.

“I will not allow your deadbeat Lost Boy to turn my son against me, or my magic.  And I don’t think you will, either.  Emma.”  Their eyes met over the flame and they watched as it dimmed.  

The phone rang, and they jumped.  Both of them.  And the time for confidences was over, snuffed—with the flame—in a puff of smoke.

David was calling.  “Dad?”

“Emma.  I need you down at the station.”

“What?  Why?”

“Neal’s here.”  David paused.  “He says he doesn’t know where Henry is.”

“Fuck.”  Emma sighed; David didn’t say anything but the stench of parental disapproval nearly made the phone vibrate.  “Fudge.”

“Just get over here, okay?”  The call ended.  The candle started smoking.  Emma was a professional.  Emma had a plan.  And in that moment, Emma had only one thought in her head as she focused:  Enough.

Poof.

She was gone.  And in her wake was a trail of white smoke.

[moonrose-mortem]

Since everyone is loving my TOH analysis posts, I think it's time to do one for the best girl witch: Willow Park.💚

✨From the start she became my favorite, everything except the hair color and ears, she looked like me when I was a kid. We even have similar personalities and a love for plants. When we are introduced to her she was sweet and shy, as well as showing kindness to the smallest flower that she stepped on. And when she got mad after Amity bullied her I'm not going to lie I had an "oh shit" moment that later on had me thinking that she was going to be a strong ally for Luz someday. Characters in anime and cartoons that show that level of power early on are usually going to be an important one, villain or hero. Like nature, Willow is a force to be reckoned with. Her own namesake resonates with the same power willow trees have had for thousands of years.🌿

🔮From my own studying of magic and witchcraft for years, I looked up anything and everything magical about my favorite trees and plants, and even before that I liked willow trees (kid me thought they were pretty because they "had hair" and I loved Grandmother Willow from the movie "Pocahontas".) Willow trees have long been associated with witches, ghosts, the moon, water, magic, music, love, and goddesses like Hecate, Persephone, Demeter, Artemis and Cerridwen. So when the episode "Hootys Moving Hassle" came out and they did the moonlight conjuring, I knew it wasn't a coincidence. It is also a tree that stands for healing of emotional wounds and the heart. 💚

🌱Willow has shown time and again that the process of healing from past wounds isn't steady, but the results are worth it. From there she found out her own strength and goals that she went for. It's also important to not forget the bad as much as the fond memories we have. (I almost forgot that Willow loved books as much as Amity as well as being covered in band aids all the time. Great episode to rewatch again.)🍄

🐝On to her palismen: Clover. I thought this was the perfect creature for Willow being both a pollinator and a fierce little buggy. Bees also have been considered sacred to goddesses of nature, Rhea, Freya, and Aphrodite, and is a symbol of the feminine energy. "Tender yet tenacious" is the best description the Bat Queen gave for both Willow and Clover. Bees are also an animal that symbolizes hard work, reaching for your goals and dreams, strength, unity, and most importantly family and community. Bees are a reminder to enjoy the sweetness of life and rhythms of nature.☀️

Her goal as a witch was "to be strong and wise to protect her loved ones and that if anyone gets in her way they feel the sting of defeat." Willow Park is the definition of strong and sweet, a great example that you can balance a female characters' best qualities. I'm so excited to see where Dana Terrace takes this character for the finale. Of course, I am excited for the possibility of her and Hunter. And yet most have forgotten that she is a great character outside of getting shipped with characters like her former bullies(really?) If anything her relationship with Hunter is meant to enhance her character and not overshadow it. Future analysis of their relationship will be made so I look forward to writing that.😊

[a-thirst-for-dunmer]

My favorite things about all my Skyrim followers:

KAIDAN

-wicked ass armor and weapon with fucking tigers on it

-realistic cursing in life or death situations

-literally the most realistic male dialogue ever with his corny ass innuendos. ‘This monument, does it remind you of me, love? Just kidding.’

-so goated in battle. Mans can kill a dragon so easy and i don’t need to do anything but look pretty

-ACCENT.

CARYALIND

-his hair is so fluffy. I bet it smells like roses and vanilla bean, what’s your secret bb

-such a sweetheart all the time. No wonder he can’t be Thalmor, he has too much heart for it

-fucking backstory. It’s very Zuko without villain redemption arc, and the fact that he still worries about the LDB thinking worse of him for being Thalmor royalty is just *chef’s kiss*

-ACE REP. I really fucking love how he can dress like a hoe, flirt like a hoe, and look so hot but have no interest in sex. Mmm that’s my jam that’s what I like.

-boob window

-Kaidan interactions! Proving that Altmer can be kind and sweet and not lighting-shooting British assholes

INIGO

-the backstories for everyone are so damn tearjerking but this guy?? Don’t even get me started on this mans scars I will cry

-literally autism. Says everything on his mind. Sir you are me

-blue. And a cat. What else??

-Lucien and him have a bromance that hits so good

-suplexes Nazeem with only his vibes

-sings original songs, where’s his soundcloud

KHASH

-okay first off i was writing a character just like her for the daughter of my LDB and Revyn. Never knew about her but this is Leeta come to life and i crave it

-pottymouth

-Kaidan Big Bro protection dialogue

-so happy when she kills things

-literally exactly what I expected a baby Argonian to sound like. So cute. So grumpy

-her outfit is just on point. If i hadn’t transitioned i would be cottagecore peasant dress woman with cats

LUCIEN

-like Cary, he is just sweet himbo no brain

-kid in a candy shop vibes. He is amazed by the wonders of this world

-the nerdiest mans you know, would probably never shut up about shit with Auryen but i haven’t gotten that far yet

-bottom energy

-AUTISM once again

-also sings!! Can sing ‘Toss a Coin to Your Witcher’ parody!!

AURI

-she is the Moment

-eats people and only meat. Wanna see someone react to ThatVeganTeacher with her as a vtuber model oml

-bullies Lucien (affectionately)

-cool pod

-looks like she could kill you and could actually kill you

-slams ALL haters and unworthy into the ground with her dialogue. Faendal ily but you don’t deserve her

RUMARIN

-a sweetheart himbo

-very Skilled with magic, specifically bound weapons. As someone who uses conjuration as their main line of magic, because dremora and bound bow go brr, I LOVE THAT

-not really good at speaking poorly of anyone tbh

-like lucien, he’s optimistic and fun to be around

-very…earthy. Jank. Grungy. Not what you’d expect from an Altmer, to be living as an adventurer mercenary, and i like that for him

-eats in bed, brain too empty to clean for long periods of time

-polyamorous pansexual King

-says Z like zed, which makes linguistics in Skyrim lore interesting

NEBARRA

-literally me

-sarcasm to the max

-name means ‘foreigner’ or ‘scorned’ or something transgender. anyway, king nihilist shit

-only wants the good wines

-also, the Accent, very good very sass

-Shakespearean insults for days

-also regular insults

-just…insults

-mystery and striking fear into the hearts of all

TALIESIN

-i thought no one could top Revyn in vibes of what Elder Scrolls character i would kin but then ✨he✨ came along

-no idea why Altmer are Brits but with him, i can vibe with it he sounds so good

-giggles evilly in fights

-s a s s

-pansexual!! We are putting queer in the game! (Even tho all vanilla spouses are, in the most Basic sense, bisexuals)

-the spice he can add with Cary as a protector/snarky best friend. I Need their backstory

-afraid of dogs, cat person

-just an absolute bitch to the Dragonborn but like in a way my gay friends are to me

-eyeliner on fleek

HONORABLE MENTIONS FOR SKEEVER AND CROC

-silly voice go brrr

[theluckywizard]

Sunshine from Beyond

In the Shattering of Things, Chapter 28: Sunshine from Beyond

A Dragon Age: Inquisition longfic featuring Rose Trevelyan x Cullen with a side helping of x Garrett Hawke

Varric has negotiated his way onto my walk this morning, despite my full throated warnings that I am a very early riser. He wrestles his way out of his tent, cursing the cold, cursing mornings, cursing the Maiden, cursing me.

“Conveniently omitting yourself from that list,” I tease him. “I didn’t ask you to join me.”

“The literary gods compel me,” he replies. “But Andraste’s ass, let’s make this a one time thing.” Last night’s installment of snow is wet and cumbersome and just grazes Varric’s thighs, prompting more spitting and cursing, so I trample the trail for him with precision stomps.

“You do this every blazing morning?” he asks me.

“Most of them.”

“And you talked a couple kids into joining you half the time?”

“They showed up one morning and talked me into bringing them.”

“Witchcraft,” he teases me. “Something magic about you without a lick of the Fade. It reminds me of someone else.”

“That would be the mark.” I waggle the fingers of my left hand  out to my side.

“Maybe in part. But that’s not what I mean,” he insists from behind me. “For all intents and purposes you present like a pretty ordinary woman. But for some reason I have this urge to confess secrets so deep they’re gathering cobwebs. To follow you blithely into some kind of madness. There’s only one other person that has that effect. And if it weren’t for his letters, I’d think I conjured him up for a story.” The absurdity of being compared to the Champion of Kirkwall catches in my chest in a laugh.

“I won’t go asking for your dirty laundry, Varric, don’t worry.”

“That’s just it. One day you’ll come to holding an armful of my dirty laundry and neither of us will know what hit us.”

“Then it’s probably a good thing I’m about to get blasted to bits under the Breach tomorrow,” I joke. Varric is having none of it.

“We’re going through the motions, Freckles, but I get the feeling your story isn’t done yet.” The vote of confidence feels like a spark inside me but it isn’t catching. I’ve been trying to rekindle that flame of optimism all week, but all the tinder has been expended.

“I believe I recall you telling me to run while I can because you know tragedies and you know where this one is headed. Well? We’ve arrived.”

“Yeah. And that was before you doggedly survived every curveball of batshit demon combat. That was before you sashayed into a horrific future and waltzed back out to nab the Tevinter magister tinkering with time. There’s something more going on here.”

“Are you going to start calling me the Herald of Andraste, now, Varric?” I ask and it’s almost a scoff.

“I’m just saying there might be something to the miracle angle. Don’t count yourself out just yet.”

“Better to expect the worst,” I say. He doesn’t press. I take the opportunity to explain my hunting process and how I involve the boys when they come with me. The snares are all empty, the growing population of the town having depleted the game to an elusive handful. I help Varric climb to the top of my rock and we perch there, watching for rams that I have no intention of taking today.

“So what does the Champion of Kirkwall think of all this?” I probe. Varric looks at me like I’m taking advantage of his admitted vulnerability beside me.

“He believes it's well in hand. He believes in you.”

“And how would he know anything about me?” I ask. Varric gives me a look and I puzzle it together. A thrill skitters through me that almost tickles. How absurd.

“I suppose you won’t tell me what you told him about me.”

“I told him the truth. That you’re disgustingly precious and I don’t know how you do it,” he says. I snort indignantly.

“Thanks, Varric.”

“Just peddling the truth, Freckles.”

“The truth? I’m shocked.”

“I don’t lie to Hawke. Couldn’t sneak one past him if I wanted to anyway.”

“He sounds kind of terrifying,” I laugh.

“Hawke? I mean– he is if he needs to be. But I think you’d find him to be a bit of a puppy. A puppy who could crush you at Wicked Grace, crush you in a drinking contest and crush you in general, but a puppy.”

“I’m telling him you said that. If I ever chance to meet him.”

“And I will stand by my words. He knows what he is.” (Continued at AO3)

Tagging the DAFF Crew

@warpedlegacy, @rakshadow, @rosella-writes, @effelants, @bluewren, @breninarthur, @ar-lath-ma-cully, @dreadfutures, @ir0n-angel, @inquisimer, @crackinglamb, @nirikeehan , @oxygenforthewicked

[sexybabystevie]

okay but. i woke up today Thinking of the whole kas!eddie thing (courtesy of a friend i explained my evidence to the other day :) ) and. well. i've got something stewing in my mind right now. and this is a half-baked thought so bear with me. (also steddie post under the cut because this got a little longer than expected).

it's around two weeks after the events of season 4. two weeks after the town rips into four large tectonic-plate-like things and too many people are lost to keep count of how much loss there has been in general.

steve is trying to sleep, trying because it's pretty much a failed attempt - from still living in his parents' shitty home with nothing but blank memories to trying to cope with what his life even is anymore, sleep is far, far away - when a strange noise comes from his bedroom window. he's too tired to really put together what it sounded like, whether it was a grating, scratchy noise or whether it was more of a loud and spontaneous bang, and so it takes another two times of the same noise appearing for him to truly be aware of his surroundings. and he is terrified.

the noise is like nails on a chalkboard - or, perhaps, some kind of metal scraping against glass - and steve can already conjure about fifty scenarios that are horrible which could be his reality right now. from vecna being the thing at his window, ready to take vengeance against him for even thinking he was capable of stopping him that day with nancy and robin, to the gruesome image of the scratching coming from something - someone - dead, steve harrington is pretty sure that this life - this new life, after everything has transformed and shifted into depths of the unknown, after his town, as shitty as it was, has turned into nothing but a reminder of all that was lost, after even a minor sound or discrepancy sets all who remain of his little family on edge - has become fifteen types of his own personal living hell combined.

steve stays paralyzed, stuck in his head, for much longer than he ever has before. but then he remembers that he's the brave one, the one who fights off monsters he doesn't even understand - didn't even know of their existence prior - to protect those that he loves, those that he's meant to protect. his mind haphazardly wanders to the kids, a moment frozen in time that feels so far away now, back before anything was too amiss and they thought maybe they had a shot a happy, normal life, when the convinced him to take them to get ice cream at midnight and all jokingly - but was it so jokingly? - yelled out "thanks, mom!" afterward. it's this moment that gets him out of bed and moving towards the window, but not before grabbing the bat that he now hides just beneath his bed. just in case, which he hoped was a hypothetical never meant to happen.

it's too dark to see outside, 2am sky pitch black without the warmth of the moon, and steve's arms are tingling numb from an uncomfortable combination of fear, anxiety, and a little bit of rogue adrenaline. he acts against all better judgement, offhandedly thinking if he were in a horror film, he'd certainly be paying the ultimate price for this, and slides the latch on the window up and pushes the thick glass open.

for moments, there's nothing except the chilly bite of the wind, setting steve's body rigid, stone-like, against the darkness that's creeping in. the anticipation is palpable, heavy in the air, and steve thinks to himself that, if whatever it is is trying to kill him, he wishes it would just hurry up and get it over with instead of toying with him.

as if on cue, a dark figure seems to pass right outside the window - as well as can be seen when one is searching for shade against the shadows, at least - and steve grips his bat a little tighter and readies himself for the strongest swing of his life when a familiar voice calls out to him.

"woah, harrington, chill out! it's me!"

and steve freezes again. because truly, this cannot be real. he has to have fallen asleep and is in the midst of some wild fever dream.

but then the figure steps into his room, is visible due to the bedside lamp he has stationed to his right at all times, and steve feels exceedingly dizzy because eddie munson - the eddie munson who dustin claimed died weeks ago, the eddie munson whose funeral was scheduled for next thursday - is standing in his bedroom.

it takes him moments before he lets his bat fall to the floor, the exhaustion overtaking the adrenaline and practically causing his grip to falter. he's still guarded, memories of billy being something he wasn't in his final moments keeping him on edge, prepared for the worst possible outcome when in reality he should be celebrating, he should be relieved and happy. and as fucked up as it may be, he is.

out of everything his mind imagined, this was not among any of the possibilities, and it made sense why - this was good. maybe dustin was wrong, somehow eddie hadn't died in that swarm of hellish bats in the upside down, somehow he had just been mistaken. that night was hard for all of them, more stressful than any other inter-dimensional fight from before, so maybe... that could explain why eddie was now here, in steve's room, painfully familiar, almost bashful smile natural on his lips.

"how the hell are you even here, munson?" steve asks, voice low, no traces of venom found in his inquisition.

"let me crash here and i'll explain everything?"

steve makes his next horror-movie mistake while staring into eddie munson's soft brown eyes. he's not stupid enough not to notice it - the deep, dark bags underneath his eyes, the way his skin is disturbingly pale, his lips stained a dark red that's too bright to be normal - but he's also reminded of how he felt when he was walking in those haunted woods with him, when eddie had tried convincing him to start pursuing nancy again. steve had thought about telling him then, that he was actually into someone who he had previously misjudged, someone he really never expected to be into, and that nancy was really only the result of him being confused by the insisting of his other friends.

but he hadn't. they were too close to danger and steve thought expressing himself would set one of their fates into stone as being the next victim - wasn't that always a trope that was prominent too? - but he wasn't aware that their fates had seemed to be sealed with or without his confession.

he had spent weeks wallowing in guilt, wondering what could have been if only he had been at the scene of the crime, if only they had a little more time together. and lo and behold, two weeks after the dreaded incident, here he was, sneaking into steve's room in the middle of the night like he would've if they would have ever gotten a real chance at being anything other than a dying wish.

so, he lets his loving nature take over and moves forward to wrap his arms around eddie, in a sort of welcome back hug that he hopes can also express a few other things he's been thinking, and ignores the shiver that rumbles down his spine as his hand brushes against the other's. eddie munson's skin is ice cold.

[fatefeared]

(Ian Somerhalder • He/Him • Cismale • 25/170 •) did you hear IF I SEE ANYTHING I HAVEN'T SEEN BEFORE I'LL THROW A DOLLAR AT IT? it reminded me of DAMON SALVATORE. rumor has it they’re from the PAST. they say they’re a VAMPIRE, that explains why they’re loyal to HIMSELF.

BASICS

Name: Damon Salvatore

Age: 25/170

Gender: Cismale

Date of Birth: June 18th, 1839

Place of Birth: Mystic Falls

Nationality: American

Species: Vampire

Sexuality: Heterosexual

FAMILY

Mother: Lillian Salvatore †

Father: Giuseppe Salvatore †

Siblings: Stefan Salvatore & unnamed half sibling from his fathers side †

Nephews: Zachariah Salvatore †, Joseph Salvatore †, Zach Salvatore

ABOUT

Damon's full bio is linked here.

As I've played Damon many times in the past, I have conjured up multiple head canons of what he went through as a kid growing up in the Salvatore home that I'll post intermittently.

Damon has spent the better part of his vampire life living it up (and even living it down when he was captured by the Augustine Society) and fulfilling the promise of making his brothers life hell - as well as looking for ways to free Katherine from the tomb.

His initial reason for coming to Mystic Falls is to finally free Katherine from the tomb (that she's not in, unknown to him), it's an added luxury that his brother happens to be here too. Two birds one stone.

There also happens to be this invisible string that has pulled him back to the small town in the form of the Hellmouth.

There's a lot of things that Damon has done that I do not agree with and since this is pre!tvd - I will not be playing him strictly canon. However, this is not me erasing the things he's done (like in the case of Caroline) as that also impacts Caroline's story. This Damon won't make the same mistakes Damon in the future did, if that makes sense.

I'm super excited to get to write Damon in a different way than the show. He is open for any and all kinds of plots!

[kamy2425]

"The Meaning of Death" (Discworld Fanfic) Chapter 6: Dreams and Wishes

[Context for Tumblr Users: Rincewind and Eric have appeared in Coin's dimension]

There was something about this place that Rincewind reminded him of. The memories of a little picture book began to unfold. Not of the place nor whoever gave him that book, but just the image of one single page. A sourcerer whose hands spread wide apart as the magic around him flowed colorfully across the page. It was that single image that has given Rincewind that glimmer of self-discovery. It is what led him to become a wizard in the first place.Rarely has Rincewind reminisced of a past where he wasn't a wizard. Much less, a memory where he wasn't running for his life. It made him questioned where had all this bad luck started. And...if it was even possible to have that small feeling of not looking out for any danger or being scared. Just his eyes glued to a book, unaware of the world outside. He felt rather guilty of having that feeling. He even remembered the sillier times where his young self wished to be that figure in the book.

And it is what Coin has become. It is what this world is. 

There stood Rincewind, a wizard of no magic, and a little kid who has all the magic in the world. What would have happened if their lives were switched? To live in the fantasy that Rincewind always dreamed of? He didn’t have to imagine. 

Rincewind looked around. A world of just magic. A world that lives on one singular page. Never to flip on the other side. For Rincewind, it felt…kinda lonely. With all the magic in the world, Rincewind won't possibly be able to replicate that warmth and the comically banter that happens in the Mended Drum. There won't be a morning where Cut-Me-Own-Throat Dibbler would try to sell him questionable meats at a fair price, or that isolated but cozy solitude that the library in the Unseen University provided, nor its librarian.

Coin raised his hands as plush chairs manifested from the ground to his two visitors. For himself, he sat on a large tree stump and wiggled his legs happily as he stared at the two with his golden brown eyes.

“Oh! Drinks!” Coin gasped, “That’s what’s missing!”

He clapped his hands together as a little cloud shaped all the drink he could conjure up.

Eric waved his arm, “Lemonade sounds great, friend!”

Pop! Lemonade with a handful of ice cubes landed onto Eric’s grip. Coin moved his head towards the other guest, “Do you fancy one of those adult drinks? A cup of beer, perhaps?”

“No, thank you…” Rincewind waved the little cloud away from his face, “I’m still flavoring Eric’s uh…delicious mystery soups from earlier, thank you all the same.”

“A cup of water perhaps, then?” Asked Coin as his eyes were holding Rincewind’s guilt hostage. 

“Water would be nice!” Rincewind quickly responded, “Thank you.”

He couldn’t find an opening to throw the drink in secrecy, so Rincewind had no choice but to drink it. He was surprised that it was just regular old water. Just without the pesky muddy-flavor. So really, this water was the most water that Rincewind has ever tasted in his whole life.

“You must have so many questions for me, do you not?” Coin asked.

“Well, um…” 

“After I escaped the Dungeon Dimension because of you,” Coin explained without much of Rincewind’s response, “I fixed my mistakes. And I decided to create this world. For myself.”

Rincewind jumped in place as Coin teleported from behind him and pulled onto his robe,

“Go on!” He said cheerfully,  “Ask me anything! I’ll make it for you!”

“I um…okay uh…” Rincewind struggled as he wasn’t good at talking to children, “Some new pair of socks would be nice.”

Coin chuckled and produced some red-colored socks with star patterns on them, “I can produce a brick if you'd like to continue that fight.”

“No, I’m okay with just the socks thank you.” 

I must be dreaming! He scratched his head, but actually, according to Eric he WAS dreaming. So what can he do? Wake up? What kind of danger would his body be if he doesn’t? Actually, now thinking about it… when was the last time he slept? Sleeping is nice and all, but Rincewind has learned something valuable about the art of wakefulness: 

The more times you close your eyes, the more you’ll miss the danger coming straight at you. 

“Excuse me,” Rincewind stepped away and dragged Eric along, “He just made me socks.”

“I can see that.” Eric replied, “Are they not your size?”

“No, it’s not that! They fit like a glove!” Rincewind shouted, until he remembered he wasn’t alone and lowered his voice, “Fit like a sock, I mean.”

“Look..uh….oh!” Rincewind leaned closer at whisper length, “He’s making wishes, isn’t he? And yet, you’re not like…asking him for any like…I don’t know, riches? babes? the whole ruling the world thing?

“Oooh, that!” Eric laughed, “Oh, no I’m way past that!” 

“What do you mean?” Rincewind glared as Coin just walked casually at their not-so-secret conversation.

“Well, the thing is…those wishes were something I wanted because everyone else wanted it, you know?” Eric explained, “Everyone in my town just, constantly going Eric, when are you getting a girl? Eric, when are you getting a real job? Eric, why are you such a lazy piece of-”

Rincewind immediately blocked Coin’s ears as Eric was mumbling in silence. Rincewind shook his head no as Coin laughed at the exchange.

“....Anyways, those things were just someone else’s wishes. And I believed ‘em.” Eric sank his shoulders, “I thought I wanted them.”

Coin stepped in and placed a hand on the other boy’s shoulders, “Our wishes and destinies had been shaped by someone else’s.But it shouldn’t define what we are underneath it all.”

A moment of philosophical silence flowed through the timeless breeze.

“Is it really that simple?” Rincewind asked, much more to himself than the crowd around him.

“May, I?” Coin extended a hand and pointed at the wizard’s head. “I wish to see the world and what’s become of it.”

Rincewind hesitated, there’s been times where cursed books and animated hats took a peek at his mind. Only, he was always close to death in those times. If something were to happen now, in this peaceful looking world, then it would probably be a good way to go about it. The wizard sighed as he leaned down on the ground and said, “Alright.”

They both closed their eyes. Coin could see all the events that occurred on the wizard’s timeline. All the failures, all the chaos, and all the little moments where he was at death’s door steps, unfolded within himself. 

“You have lived a pretty interesting life.” Coin pointed out, “To unknown lands, impossible dimensions, to even being in the far ends of the universe itself.”

“Look, I know what you’re about to say, but-”

“It must have been awful.”

“...why, thank you.”

…

Far away in the forest, a group of hooded figures observed the various footprints left on the ground.

The leader of the pack crouched down on one knee as he dipped his finger in the soft muddled floor. He lifted it up and gave it a strong whiff. It really was pointless, but someone had to do it for the whole atmosphere of the thing. At least he hesitated in giving it a taste sample.

“The box.” Said the leader, “It’s been here.”

“Gosh,” responded one of his minions, “You can tell all that with just a whiff?”

The leader pointed far off into the distance. It looked like the owner of those footprints rested, leaving a wide rectangular hole in the mud. Afterwards, the trail goes back to tiny little feet marching straight forwards. 

“Yes, I’m pretty sure.” He stood up and lowered his hoodie. The man was bald, but he covered that up with the number II marked on his forehead. He had to find someone to take out one of the lines, now that he has ascended after the whole fire fiasco a while back. It might look uneven, but everyone would know who is in charge.

“Men!” He shouted, “We find the box, we find the Wizard! We find the Wizard, we find our Orb!”

The group cheered in unison.

“We will not rest! We will not eat! We will find the Orb of Knowledge until our very last breath!”

“I prefer to breathe, to be honest.” Whispered one of the minions in silence, “It comes with living, after all.”

“Everyone!” Shouted the leader, the group stiffed in place. He swung his sword and aimed at the setting sun, where the footprints continue on the other side, “Forwards!”

The group vanishes in the distance, leaving their own trail behind as well.

…

Even further back, little demons looked over some of the same footprints. They were very confused about the additional number of feet that came along with it. 

“The wizard has an army!” Shouted the youngest demon of the group, “We’re doomed!”

“Not doomed!” 

The demons turned their little head towards the voice. While it appeared to be the shortest of the group, it made up with its longest looking horns sitting on top of its head. He moved to the front of his army and turned towards them.

“I, Killer Buzz the Second,” Said the leader, “Promises you, revenge will be all the sweeter once that Wizard is dead!”

The army cheered.

“Do not fear those shoes!” He pointed, “They are but lesser beings! What we make in size, we make up for it in numbers!”

The army cheered loudly. 

“We will not rest until we feast on the blood of our enemy!”

“Yes!!!”

“We will honor Lord Beetlebuzz’s death! His past might have been lies, but his legacy will be the truth!”

“Yess!!!”

“And if push comes to shove, all younger demons will be the first to be used as bait!”

“Y…”

The sound wave of the crowd died, but quickly found the momentum again, “...yay?”

Killer Buzz nodded in reassurance as he turned his back and pointed his pitchfork straight ahead.

“Forwards!”

The little army of demons marched. Their bodies were visible until reaching the far end of the grassy hill.

Notes:

I've only seen one or two one-shots that had Coin in it. He's such an interesting character and a really great foil to Rincewind's whole Wizard thing. If you're interesting in the story, give it a full read in AO3! My first time writing about Discworld, and I hope I can provide that familiar warmth and magic that these books provide. I may not be an expert writer just yet, but I love Discworld, and hopefully this will help me get better at it!

Read the other chapters on AO3 here!

[raeloganthesonic06fangirl]

Okay, so all in all, this Lego game is actually pretty fun and cute in how it presents the key scenes from the films, but I just want to say that the "Snape's Memory" level was probably the most uncomfortable level of any game I've ever played, and let me tell you a thing or two about how the sort of games I've played over the years aren't always cutesy animal mascots or funny little platformers.

This level has you in the shoes of young James, Sirius and Remus as you chase down a clearly scared young Severus Snape through the halls as he hides in lockers, behind items and finally in a tree that you will then conjure a pair of shears to cut down the branch he's sitting on as he reads a book. Then you duel him and it initiates a cutscene of which, after attempting to defend himself, James blasts him with a charm that leaves him standing in his shirt and little green Lego underpants, trying to cover himself before the memory ends with a zoom out to present day Lego Snape's lip wobbling before he points Lego Harry out the door in a much more subdued manner than how the movie presents it and far more tame than how it went down in the books.

As you can see here, I hesitated in my footage as I was realizing in real time that I was supposed to terrorize young Snape. 🥺

Now, of course, Snape wouldn't exactly be my favorite character of the series, as I grew up reading the books and can easily point out all the reasons why you really shouldn't take his redemption arc as perfect... But I wouldn't say he's my least favorite as he's certainly a very interesting character and the movie portrayal was absolutely a fantastic adjustment ((thanks to my brother, YEARS ago, I have a little Snape figurine that's kind of cute and modeled after the movie version, and I unironically love the little piece of plastic)).

((a lengthier post under the jump here, in which I ramble about the complex morality of said character, remind y'all that he was also a bully, and also other tangents that'll let y'all really know that I probably haven't told you guys just how much this series was a key memory of my childhood))

There's his good moments that were definitely planted early on to make re-visits to the series a nice refresh now that you know the intent of his actions, but, as I like to say: "Hey, didn't he literally throw a glass jar in the general direction of Harry's head once, just days after the whole thing about Harry unintentionally invading his memories? Like, this 36 year old man lobbed a glass jar at a 15 year old kid's face because he's still holding a grudge over this kid's dead dad. Yeah, that's book exclusive, but it still happens."*

But, that said, Snape's childhood was rough and this part was a bit rough to play through with that context, I suppose at least the Lego form of it omitting being hung upside down by the ankle and getting his mouth flooded with soap to the point he was choking was wise on thier part-

Oh, wait, didn't he also call his one good friend a slur after she attempted to help him, because she kind of smirked a bit at seeing his underwear?

Dang, everyone sucks here. This whole event reads like a Reddit AITA post, ngl. My favorite character was Remus, and arguably, while he didn't actively participate in the bullying, he still acknowledged years after the fact that being a bystander was just as bad, so even my favorite character is in the wrong and can't be excused.

But, hey, if everyone was perfect, then stories would be boring because there's no conflict or flaws, and that's sort of needed anyway in order to show growth or downward spirals.

* Really, anything that Snape did in relation to literally bullying children he's supposed to be teaching is just gross. Remember that Neville's boggart takes the form of Snape, when everyone else is afraid of things like spiders or snakes or Voldemort. Neville didn't feel safe around his own teacher, how messed up is that? Snape got bullied as a kid and turned around to be the bully, and even WORSE, joined a supremacy club, and only tried to back out when it affected him personally. He did not break the cycle. Casual reminder that Snape was 100% willing to let James and Harry die in exchange for Lily, and only revised that idea after Dumbledore called him out on being such a sick slimeball.

Simply put, Snape was an incel, and I think we shouldn't forget that. And that's fine, that's his character, it makes his choice to sacrifice himself for the greater good a little more satisfying, but we should not forget that this whole story was mostly his fault to begin with. Alternately, if the Sorting Hat had placed him anywhere else, it might have improved his chances of bettering himself, or if his parents weren't such awful people to him, but at the end of the day, he made the choices he made and he had to deal with it.

Why am I even typing all this, it should be pretty obvious that I don't support his actions despite him being in my list of favored characters of the book, like, he's just interesting in the sense that I grew up with the books as they were coming out, so there was all these years of build up for me to flit between "Ew, Snape." and "Oh, Snape?" and "Aww, Snaaaape..." and "Wow, Snape!", so it was literally information I picked up between ages 11-17, much like the main characters of the books, tbh.

My favorite Snape moment in the books? Book 3, when we find out, thanks to the Time Turner, that he wasted no time in tending to the kids and Sirius after finding them unconscious, so he conjured up stretchers to take them back to the school, when like, it's established that as far as he knows, no one is around to observe this and he doesn't take the opportunity to rough up Sirius a bit, so him choosing to do things the right way while not being observed is an interesting side of his character that isn't remarked on enough.

Favorite Snape moment in the movies?

This. "Prisoner of Azkaban" was the only Harry Potter movie I saw in theaters because my mom's coworkers convinced her to take me right after her shift at work when I was spending the day with her on a day off from school and had dragged along my copy of "Order of the Phoenix" to read quietly, and next to Book 5, Book 3 was my next favorite in the series and this adaptation was my favorite despite the major changes, and the changes to Snape's involvement to the plot was honestly welcoming because Snape throwing his arms back to defend the kids from Lupin as a werewolf, without hesitation, is such a good layer to add to him.

Favorite Snape moment in the Lego Games?

Hard toss up between the fist pump at getting his dream job, the shaky wand before being forced to kill Dumbledore, the refusing to celebrate thing even though they slapped a hat on him, the nod to Harry after revealing that he was the Half-Blood Prince, the fact that Lego Snape's "death" was prompted by scarfing down the last cookie, or that they had to extra his tears by shoving an onion in his face ((I don't even think he dies in this version of events, he just cries and falls over)). Lego Snape is the saddest looking piece of plastic I've ever seen. He falls in that category I have for Lego Joker, which is: "The actions of the source material character doesn't carry over into Lego form, so they can be judged based on thier actions as Lego, therefore I can call them cute in the sense that they're goofy action figures."

Just a but disappointed that we didn't get Snape's completely unhinged shrieking fit at Harry and Hermione after Sirius and Buckbeak escape, and he's ((rightfully)) 100% convinced they had something to do with it, but doesn't have the proof other than he just knows. The all caps words on the book pages while he's just screaming about Harry somehow escaping the hospital wing to do this because it's the sort of thing he knows Harry would do, while Dumbledore and Fudge are just exchanging glances and Harry keeping a straight face during this is just sublime.

I mean, as far as Snape knew, he was about to finally get revenge on the man he thought was responsible for the death of his closest friend/crush, her husband and about 12 other people, and presumably said individual was out to get the last remaining bit of Lily's legacy that survives, so naturally Snape was like "Oh, joy, I not only get to end this once and for all, but I'm gonna be seen as a hero for saving these kids and maybe I'll get that validation I've only dreamed of, tee hee~" only for it to get snatched away in a few minutes, and he knows full well that Harry has already thwarted no less than three attempts on his life so far and the kid totally has the nerve to do stupid brave things all the time, I don't blame him for thinking that Harry was the one who let Sirius escape, and he's totally right but can't prove it, lol.

Kind of wonder what Snape must have thought when he found out that Sirius was in the Order, too? Can you imagine how awkward that probably was when Snape walked into 12 Grimmauld Place, and sees this guy and the mysteriously disappeared hippogriff in there, two years later? I bet Snape's brain gears went into overdrive and was like "I freaking KNEW it." and probably threw his hands in the air once he was brought up to speed on the situation by Dumbledore.

[miss-windsong]

tagged by @alicentsgf yes ma’am 

RULES - List eight shows for your followers to get to know you better.

1. Avatar the Last Airbender - this was the first show I ever remember watching in its entirety, and it’s also probably the show that has had the most impact on me. From the way the world, the cultures, and the magic are all entwined, to the purely unapologetic spirituality that runs through the whole thing, and especially the fact that the main character Refuses to compromise his beliefs in the face of the entire world telling him not to - that’s my shit right there. I have this show memorized, episode for episode if not line for line sometimes.

2. Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood - the first anime I ever watched (besides the pokemon and bakugan episodes I vaguely remember from 8am TV at age 5 or whatever) and boy does this show fuck. It would be good enough if the only thing it was concerned with was the main character’s loss of innocence and quest to find a reason to live (main characters, I think Ed and Alphonse both deserve that title), but it also gives you that delicious well-written political maneuvering through the lens of my boy Roy, who is possibly my favorite character ever based purely on how good his writing is. I could - and will - talk about this show for an unacceptable amount of time, so beware asking me about it.

3. Game of Thrones - I know this show has a lot of baggage surrounding the later... lets say half of its runtime, the first four seasons reminded me why I fell in love with fantasy as a kid. I didn’t watch this show until 2021 (a disgrace that I regret to this day), but between GRRM’s masterful plot and character writing and an incredible amount of dedication to making a fantasy show that looked as good as the images the book conjured (again, for the most part - we don’t talk about Casterly Rock in this house), I couldn’t help myself. This show and the books it comes from have consumed me. I hope I never get out.

4. House of the Dragon - everything I said above, but with better camera work, more gays, more dragons, and sadder (which is fucked up honestly). There’s only one season of this show out as of making this post, but to be honest if it were cancelled tomorrow I’d still feel incredibly lucky for getting to watch it as it premiered. I am so normal about the characters in this story.

5. Hawkeye - I think this is my favorite marvel property. I don’t know why. I’m an MCU enjoyer, and I wasn’t particularly excited about this show when it was announced, but boy was I wrong. Low stakes, good comedy, and Hailee Steinfeld and Florence Pugh are there. Also, shockingly good camerawork and pretty good action considering it feels like an afterthought by Disney. I want more of these characters. Fortunately it’s the MCU, so surely I will get them in more of their toy-selling glory.

6. Arcane - fuck this show. I hate it. It’s too good. Every single one of the 9 episodes of Season 1 (all we have for now) makes me cry every time I watch it. Multi-layered tragedy, lesbians, class war, a frankly illegal soundtrack, and some of the prettiest animation I have ever seen in my life. And it’s all about characters in a world I was already kind of obsessed with. If you haven’t seen this show, please give it a shot. You might hate me for it, because this show is NOT nice to its characters, but you will also fall in love with them. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.

7. Neon Genesis Evangelion - I’m including the Rebuild movies in this, because fuck your rules. The 26 original episodes of this show, combined with the End of Evangelion, are an incredible experience that I think everyone should see at least once. When I watched this show for the first time, I only meant to watch a few episodes before bed but ended up staying awake the entire night and watching the whole thing in one sitting. That was emotionally devastating enough (because this is not a particularly happy story), but when I finally got around to watching the Rebuild movies, it felt like someone had pried my brain open and made a movie about what it felt like to be in there. Particularly the fourth movie. I would say on average I cry at least an hour of its 2 and a half hour runtime, every time I watch it, and I’ve seen it easily 5 times by now. This story broke me in the best way possible.

8. She-Ra and the Princesses of Power - gay. Gay gay homosexual gay. If you’ve ever thought “man, I wish scifi didn’t always look like Halo” then you’d like how this show looks. It is absolutely bursting with life and light and energy, in a way I’ve never seen before. And that’s not even talking about the characters inhabiting this absolutely beautiful world. They’re all quirky, unique, and way too god damn easy to get attached to. It’s not as happy-go-lucky as it might sound or appear, but it does a phenomenal job of tackling some pretty intense issues, from parental trauma to grief to reconciling friendships. Also, it’s gay. Did I mention that?

Tagging @cuteinfodumpster, @queenwillowisp 

[daisylikesmedia]

Holiday Special 6: The Waters of Mars

OKAY IT’S TIME I can’t wait for the overview to say this, this is my favourite episode of Doctor Who. I’m so excited to talk about it with y’all so let’s go!! (fair warning, this review is a lil longer than my others, but I hope it's worth it to show y'all how much I love it.)

This is one of the last episodes where I’ll be able to reference my experiences as a child watching the show, but this context do be important. My biggest fear as a kid was water. Getting any kind of water on my face was a no-no, and I hated being in pools/at beaches and the like. The reason this context is important is because the villain of this episode IS water, and damn that freaked me out. My worst nightmare was conjured up into an alien parasite slaughtering a crew of heroes. Naturally, this makes me love them slkdfjhg. I like alien threats that aren’t fully explained, as I feel the lack of that knowledge adds to the horror, and with the already existing fear of water, having no knowledge on how we defeat them bar escaping/blowing the base up makes them soooo scary. As The Doctor says, “Water is patient, Adelaide. Water just waits. It wears down the clifftops, the mountains, the whole of the world. Water always wins.”. My personal experiences definitely lend to me loving this villain, but cmon can you blame me :3.

Another thing this episode does really well is give us characters to care about. The whole premise of this episode falls apart if we don’t like these characters/think they’re worth saving, and so I’m v happy they nailed it here. For the small amount of screentime these characters get, you can see how much they’ve sacrificed to go on this mission. There are several scenes where the crewmates are talking to/watching their family back on Earth, longing to be back there. It shows how far the crew is willing to go in order to further human exploration across the stars, and no character encompasses this more than Captain Adelaide Brooke. Her motivations are so clear, and her leadership within this group is so apparent. You fully believe she is one of the most important people in human history, and she commands that respect from you. The only time she loses control is at the crucial point in the story where The Doctor decides to save them, and even then she doesn’t let him get away with that scot-free. What an amazing one-off character that manages to truly challenge The Doctor as he goes off the rails.

And now, we get to talk about the main plotline of the episode. The spooky water aliens and amazing side characters help enable this plotline, but it is what makes this episode my absolute favourite. This is a Doctor Who episode where you *don’t* know whether he should save the humans. And not based on them being bad people, or because of a sympathetic villain. Because the rules of the show thus far have told us to respect fixed points (see Fires of Pompeii), with the crew destined to die on Mars, with their deaths inspiring their families to go and explore the cosmos. The Doctor, and thus you as the viewer, spend the episode weighing up whether The Doctor should stay or should go. He leaves just as the crew’s situation becomes the most dire, as half of them are taken by the flood. As he listens to their cries of desperation over the radio, visions of his past play in his mind, reminding him he’s the last of his kind. That his people, who governed the laws of time, aren’t here anymore. And with no-one left to stop him, in The Doctor’s own words: “The laws of time are mine, and they will obey me”. This is The Doctor at his most arrogant, and his most powerful point in his life. He saves the remaining crew members, and takes them home to Earth, where instead of the typical jubilation, the remaining crew are disgusted by his existence. As Adelaide puts it, “No-one should have that much power.”, and The Doctor, as the time lord victorious, responds “Tough”. Adelaide, in response to this, walks into her house and kills herself to put history back on track, and The Doctor realises just what kind of monster he has become. It’s chilling, he becomes jittery and manic, and The Doctor runs away like a coward as his death looms over him. What a turn. This is a story that takes our hero, and turns him into a monster. It shows just what kind of power The Doctor has, and what happens when he decides he wants to play God, and I love it. You may have noticed a theme, with me liking episodes that challenge and change The Doctor’s character, and no episode does this more than The Waters of Mars. I could go on and on, but this is who the 10th doctor becomes, when there’s no one there to stop him (You can go back to The Runaway Bride to hear Donna talk about this, this character arc has been building for YEARS and it’s so satisfying to see it executed so well).

TL:DR/Overview: Great villains, a fantastic cast of characters who command respect on screen, and a massive step in The Doctor’s character arc. This episode is not afraid to be critical of our hero, and turns him into a God we should fear. The deification of The Doctor is something I’ve mentioned in several of Tennant’s episodes, but this is the one where all those moments where The Doctor has shown his power come to fruition. This moment has been building and building since Series 2 and seeing it executed on screen feels so immensely satisfying. The ending to this episode is perfect to me, and from concept to execution this episode is original, unique, and tailor-made to fit this incarnation of The Doctor. I give you all, my favourite episode of Doctor Who.

P.S: Apologies for the length on this one, this is me holding back lmaoo I can talk about this episode for hours and hourss. I hope I was able to show y’all just exactly why I love this episode <3

[ettawritesnstudies]

Hello! Remember the ruin album ask game? If I can still sneak in a couple of super late questions, how about

14 If you could talk to Joey and Madeleine about one (and only one!) ruin song, what would it be? 15 If you could recommend only one ruin song to your followers, what would it be?

hello!! Yes I'm always happy to answer asks about TAD :)

14. If you could talk to Joey and Madeleine about one (and only one!) ruin song, what would it be?

After MUCH deliberation I think I have decided on Secret Worlds. My personal interpretation reminds me of being a kid and climbing trees in my backyard with my younger siblings as we made up elaborate games of make-believe. I desperately want to know what kind of make-believe games Joey and Madeline played as kids. I know they play DnD, and I'd also love to hear about their campaigns, but specifically, I want to know what stories their imaginations conjured as elementary schoolers.

15 If you could recommend only one ruin song to your followers, what would it be?

Old Witch Sleep and Good Man Grace. It's not my favorite from the album (that goes to Chords), but I think it's a fantastic introduction to the kind of music that they write and what they write about. You can relate to it on a personal level, and it works very well for character playlists, and so since I have many writer followers, I think they would appreciate it.

Thanks for the ask!!

[mlobsters]

supernatural s11e19 the chitters (w. nancy won)

what on earth kind of story requires this setup of sam and dean-esque parallel kids that also involves one of the kids being gay and some goofy fucking monster

SAM So … so we get back out there. We get back to work. We keep moving. We keep working. We’ll catch a break on Cas. We have to. It’s … it’s karma. DEAN You know, karma’s been kicking us in the teeth lately.

LOL lately. yes, new phenomenon

dean/jackles sounds sick

i gasped when she showed up lol, she's so beautiful and i know i've seen in her in something but i'm not sure what. she was in bsg (imdb), but i have almost no memory of that show honestly

SHERIFF TYSON Twenty-seven years ago. About a dozen residents went missing. Twenty-seven years before that, another eight disappeared.

sounds like tooms on the xfiles with his every 30 year liver feast

After eating foie gras during a trip to France, Carter proposed the idea that the villain should consume human livers.[6][7] Morgan noted that the writers settled on the liver because it was "funnier" than any other organ.[6]

LOLL okay

DEAN What, you’re saying it was junkless?

i just talked about the junkless metatron in dogma recently lol after remembering the crack dean made about a junkless angel early on

DEAN Green eyes, buzzing. Weed alone doesn’t conjure up that kind of scenario. [turns to Sam] Isn’t that right, Sam? SAM Dude, I was eighteen. DEAN Sinner. SAM It was college. It was probably oregano anyways. DEAN Rebel. SAM You’re an idiot.

glad dean enjoyed teasing sam about it. and i'm sure dean has partaken in pot more than once :p

cosigning this glare at dean

ah, the hunter origin story being the reason for the weird show open. why didn't i think of that! pretty sure i've seen this conversation with them that's about to happen, in a gifset. roll the dice on whether i will think it's cute or get annoyed at the wincest bait*

DEAN Ah, you guys fight just like brothers, almost as bad as us. CESAR Well, it’s more like an old married couple. DEAN That’s … Oh, so … [points back and forth to Jesse and Cesar] CESAR Yeah.

okay yeah embarrassing dean, you know it's bad when i tear off my headphones and yell stop at the computer :p deep breaths. i can do this.

DEAN What’s it like, settling down with a hunter? CESAR Smelly, dirty. Twice the worrying about getting ganked.

sort of saved it but jackles still played it awkward, made the weird face saying that line. sometimes he's completely smooth about accepting the info that someone is queer, and other times he does this. or worse yet, this thing with the cupid match being two guys where they focus on him being stunned for *10 seconds*. mild disgruntlement.

also maybe part of the point is he's asking what it's like being settled down with a hunter, when he's already settled down with a hunter. aside from fucking sam, i'm not sure how much more "settled" he can be. not to mention twice the worry about getting ganked, he just briefly killed himself in 11x17 trying to get sam back from being actually-not-dead.

anyway. cesar has a lovely voice and accent (and i appreciate the pronunciation of his name not being anglicized)

CESAR Yeah, it’ll eat him alive if we don’t. DEAN It’s hard to watch someone go through that, isn’t it? CESAR Yeah, I never had a brother or a sister, but I’ve seen it over and over, when someone loses someone when they’re young. It never heals over. DEAN No, it doesn’t. CESAR And the insane thing is, how many hunters have you seen over the years get their revenge? DEAN A few. CESAR Yeah. Me too. And they are never fixed, are they? DEAN No, I guess not. But, you gotta help him get that revenge anyway.

not me being reminded of how many years sam had to live without dean in the end. le sigh. but also the winchesters are constantly playing revenge whackamole

JESSE I never got over what I lost that day, the one person in the whole world I loved the most.

cut to meaningful look on sam. in case we forgot, how his brother is the person he loves most.

them going into this mine i'm like, haven't they done this before? wait didn't one of them break a leg in a mine?? or wait was that a fic i read :P

well, jesse finding the remains of his brother and the coin got me to cry a bit, good job guys. which also set the emotional tone for me to get even more weepy over the next conversation

SAM You know, whenever you and Dad used to leave me to go hunting, and I-and I wouldn’t hear from y’all for a while, I, um, I was always sure that some vamp or rugaru, or take your pick, I always figured one of them finally got ya. I tried to think what to do, you know, the next step to take. I was just lost. DEAN We came back, though, every time.

the terror and loneliness of sam being left alone as a kid alone in whatever passed as home for the moment, out of contact. guh

SAM So, uh, what’s freedom look like? JESSE Nice little spread in New Mexico. We’ve been paying on it for years. Set foot on it about … twice? CESAR Gonna raise horses. And if that goes bust, Jesse used to be an EMT. JESSE Oh, so now I’m supporting your ass? CESAR It’s time to start living.

then cut to sam and dean in the car. on their neverending hunt. are they living.

SAM Couldn’t do it, huh? DEAN No, didn’t feel right. SAM Yeah. I know what you mean. Two hunters who make it to the finish line? DEAN Yeah, you leave that alone.

we know not everyone one in this car makes it to the finish line. i mean who's to say but 42 is too soon.

*sometimes i'm just like WHY DO THEY DO THIS. early on like in playthings (mini rant and clip there) when sam was pawing at dean looking like he's one step from trying to kiss him, i got pissy because it's like why are you setting this up when it will not ever ever EVER go anywhere. but then they just kind of stuck with the theme quietly, and said the quiet part out loud in sex and violence. which just made my brain go ????

i think ultimately i like when they make grand gestures and are generally just. their canonical extra weird about each other selves, and i'll take any little moments of intimacy and vulnerability i can get. having a joke setup that points out their dynamic is more like a married couple than brothers, sometimes that can land weird for me and i feel disgruntled about them (the writers) playing along with the bit. i also don't feel great and mood is also not great so i might be a little extra cynical/negative at the moment. charlie said they fight like an old married couple but it was cute and fit the moment. and bobby did too in tall tales (which hit all my awkward humor buttons in the most unpleasant ways) and it was kind of playing into the bit of them being extra crabby at each other.