#life has been rough so I’ve been distracting myself with colour studies

[joycieillustrations]

Eve studies but make them ✨Rhaenys✨

Please do not repost without my permission!

[hello-everyfandom]

“On my heart, Love.”

Warnings: N/A

Pairing: James Potter x Reader

Words: 2k

Summary: You’re tutoring Peter in Herbology and James loves to distract you.

(Enjoy! A little James Potter heals all wounds)

James Potter was widely known, across the grounds of Hogwarts, to be quite arrogant and rather self-absorbed. In classes he was the student who sat in the back making snarky comments back to the Professor and the student who, along with his friends, were quite mischievous. It seemed that James Potter had quite a large head, being quite popular as well as star Chaser for the Gryffindor Quidditch team. So, by the time you were appointed to tutor Peter Pettigrew on Herbology, you were fully aware of the presence of Mr. James Potter. It was quite frequent that Peter’s friends interrupted study sessions and you, sadly, had gotten used to the presence of James’ big head.

“Peter,” you sighed, “You really must focus, and I do not say this as your tutor who wants you to do well, but literally because if you do not study these plants and you could actually die in class.”

Peter, who sat next to you, groaned loudly, “But why!” Peter whined making you snicker.

“Why!!” you mocked him in a childish voice, “Because if you aren’t careful in dissecting and are too busy staring at the butterflies, a Venomous Tentacula will snap it’s jaws at you and well...” you clicked your tongue, “I’m afraid you fresh out of luck then.”

Peter sat up and grinned, “You know what?”

“What?” you responded,

“You may be the cruelest Ravenclaw I’ve ever met.” 

“Peter,” you pretended to coo, “that is the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me.”

Peter held his hands up, “I tell the truth and nothing but the truth.”

You snorted, “Yeah, right.”

As the two of you continued to read through the textbook, Peter took notes on exactly what you said. It was peaceful studying until you heard two heavy footsteps marching towards you. 

“Wormtail!” Sirius Black emerged. He flopped onto the bench next to Peter and slung his arm around him. “What the bloody hell are you doing here?”

“Taking the intellectual advantage of this poor lady, here.” James Potter answered his friend, pulling the chair next to you out abruptly. 

“Learning about Venomous Tentacula,” Peter shoved Sirius Black’s hand away from his notes. 

“And Remus can’t teach you this hub-bub?” Sirius raised his eyebrow. Peter shook his head.

“Absolutely not. Y/N is the best there is.”

James cocked his head. “Is that so? She’s the best there is in...” he paused to look at the cover of your textbook, “Herbology?”

You were quick in response, “She sure is. And, now that it has been mentioned, she is also quite skilled in the art of jinxes and hexes. Though my word may not be enough to suffice, would you prefer to see an example?”

Your voice was cool but the threat of making James Potter’s fingers into feathers and his nose into a beak was quite prominent. Sirius Black let out a bark of a laugh, holding his chest as he laughed. Peter watched amusedly as his best friend and his tutor (and admittedly also his friend) began to bicker.

“Alright, alright,” James grinned back, “Y/L/N, you’ve won. Don’t unleash your wrath onto poor me.”

“Yes, Y/L/N,” Sirius added, “I’m not sure he could take the humiliation.”

Peter nodded and continued to tease, “His ego is too fragile, like a little teacup.”

“You know what,” James defended, “You’re all pricks, and the only one I respect here is Y/L/N, purely because she knows how to properly articulate an insult.”

“Insult?” you grinned, “You are not worth my time to insult, love. Think of my teasing to be nothing but a mere brain exercise.”

James Potter bit his lip to hold back a smile, “I love nothing more than to be considered a brain exercise of yours.”

Sirius groaned disgustedly, “Alright, enough with the flirting.” He stood and brushed off his trousers dramatically, “Pete, we came to announce that we are going to find the Pixies that Professor Kettleburn keeps locked away and unleash them on some first years.”

Peter immediately looked at you with little begging eyes, “Please! Please Y/N, can I go?”

“We still have to study!” you protested, “Peter, you have an exam on this tomorrow!”

“He’ll be fine!” Sirius pulled Peter up, slinging his arm around him again, “Pete’s been tutored by the best.”

“But-” before you could protest further, Sirius dragged Peter away, ruffling his hair. You sighed loudly and began to clean up the notes and textbooks that littered the table.

“Don’t worry,” James said, leaning to hand you a book, “He’ll be fine.”

You sent him a knowing look, taking the book from his hand and placing it into your bag.“It’ll be on your head if he gets a low mark.”

“I swear on my soul,” James put his hand on his heart, “If he gets a mark lower than Acceptable, I will sit here, myself, and help you tutor him.”

You let out a laugh, “As if.” 

“Swear on my heart!” James called as you walked away.

“Then I’ll see you next Thursday,” you waved your hand, not bothering to look back at him. James watched you walk away with a smile breaking his cheeks. 

That Thursday, as you expected, Peter approached the study table with James in tow. Both of the marauders held their heads low.

“So, I’m assuming-”

“Your assumption is correct.” James answered solemnly.

“I thought so. James, I assume you will be joining us then?”

“Your assumption is,” he let out a breath of sad air, “correct.”

“Wonderful.” you grinned smugly back.

From then on, James Potter attended your study sessions, never late. At first, he absentmindedly looked around the room, busy enchanting paper cranes to fly and twirling his wand to make soft swirls of colours float around. You hated it. James Potter seemed to distract you, even if he didn’t try. He always came in, smelling of grass and cologne and would always reach up to run his fingers through his hair. Sometimes, he’d crane his neck to see what you were writing or make some witty comment that received a not so subtle eye roll from you. 

You didn’t think he cared, not truly, and your blind prejudice made you begin to think James was only there because his ego would be bruised if he backed down from a promise. It was when James began to fly cranes too close to your face for your liking did you blow up.

“You know what.” you stood up, “If you are going to be a prick and distract poor Peter from his studies then you may as well not be here. No one is gaining anything by your presence,” you said rather harshly. 

You turned quickly to go to the bathroom in order to cool off. As you rubbed some water on your face, you began to feel the guilt ride up your neck. You didn’t mean to talk so grating to Potter, you were just having a rough day with your own studies and your own academic life. 

You paced back slowly to your study table feeling sorrowful and thinking of how you’d apologize to Potter. As you approached, you saw James with his arm slung over Peter. Squinting closer and making your steps quieter you could hear their hushed whispers.

“I’m going to fail,” Peter cried pathetically, his head was buried in his arms “I can’t do it, even with a tutor I am absolutely failing this god forsaken class. Maybe I should just drop out now.”  

James clicked his tongue and shook his head, “Don’t say that, Worm. You’re not doing terribly, it will just take a few moments for it to truly click.”

“But you and Remus and Sirius are all doing better-”

“Sirius has skipped at least half of his classes this year and Remus has pulled out half his hair trying to study for O.W.L.S. Really, Worm,” James said seriously, “You’re doing better than any of us combined.”

“But-”

“Wouldn’t lie to you,” James patted his back encouragingly, “Besides, Herbology is one of the hardest courses for our year.”

“Really?” Peter asked, raising his head to look at his friend.

“Really really. Now clean yourself up, don’t want Y/L/N to see you in such a state. Why don’t you go grab a snack from the kitchens?”

Peter agreed, noting that a cookie may make himself feel better, and rose to recollect himself on the way to the kitchen. He didn’t see you in the shadows, looking in surprise at both Peter and James. You had no idea Peter had thought so harshly of himself, in fact, he was steadily improving in his studies. You hugged your arms and walked towards James who was leaning backwards in his chair. He straightened up when he saw you and cleared his throat.

“You’re looking refreshed.” he commented, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly.

You paused before saying, “Thank you.”

“Listen-”

“Listen-” the two of you said at the same time. You both looked at each other, unable to keep a smile off of your faces. Yours was small, shy even whilst his was large and cheeky.

“You go first,” he waved his hand. 

“I wanted to apologize,” you whispered lowly, fiddling with your nails, “I shouldn’t have spoken to you like that. I thought... well I thought-”

“Thought I was a prick?”

“Precisely,” the two of you laughed together. 

“But, seriously, I am sorry,” you acknowledged seriously.

“I am too,” James answered back, “I know it has been... less than pleasant with me being around your study dates.”

“Study period,” you corrected.

“Whatever it’s called. The truth is...” James looked around to see if Peter had miraculously appeared and let out a sigh. He ran his fingers through his hair in a stressed manner, “The truth is... Peter is a little bit embarrassed.”

“Embarrassed?” you asked incredulously.

“He feels as though he isn’t doing as well as he should... and I... well, I attend your study sessions to cheer him up a bit.”

“Oh.” you mumbled.

“And, I-” James seemed to struggle a bit trying to find his word, “I suppose I try and distract you so Peter doesn’t feel like all the attention is on him.”

“Oh.”

It grew quiet between you two. James stared at you, scratching the back of his neck nervously. You bit your cheek, wondering what you could say.

“But-”

“But?” you interrupted.

“But... that doesn’t mean... I don’t want to come.”

“Oh?” your voiced curiously.

“I mean,” he laughed, almost a little embarrassedly, “I guess I come for Peter, but I also come... for you?” he trailed off quieter and quieter, blushing a bit.

“For me?”

James glanced at you. He saw your smile, one he had grown to love. “Yes.” 

“Oh.”

“Is that all you can say? ‘Oh’?” James mocked lightly. You shoved his arm and he acted as if he were being punched. “Do I render you speechless?” James’ eyebrows wiggled.

“Wow,” you whistled, “Just as you were beginning to warm my heart, you decided to go and be a prick again.” you teased back. 

“No no!” James exclaimed, “I can go back to being cute.” The two of you smiled at each other, no longer feeling the awkwardness in the air.

“James Potter,” you observed slowly, “you’re a good friend.”

He began to flush, his ears went red and he waved his hand, “What are mates for?”

“I guess you’re right,”

“Does that mean you’ll let me stay for study sessions?”

You pretended to think, tapping a finger on your lips, “I suppose so.” James cheered loudly. Your eyes widened at his cheer and quickly shushed him.

“And then maybe... we can-”

“Can what?”

“Meet... for something other than studying?” James Potter, the boy who was charming and confident grew nervous waiting for your reply. 

“We’ll see.” you finally answered, making James let out an exhale of relief. “But only if Peter gets higher than Acceptable on his essay.”

James leaned in close to you, “On my heart, Love.”

And yes, with much studying and preparation from both you and James, Peter received an O.

[remys-lucky-franc]

Comfort - Remy POV Fic (Queen of Thieves)

“Hey, I wanna ask for a Remy angst. Are you allowed to write angst?”

I’m so sorry it’s taken me so long to write this for you, life’s just been a bit crazy between work and studying lately, and it’s so annoying because I’ve had some really nice requests that I’m excited to write for people, but I just haven’t had any time to work on them! Anyway, I really hope you enjoy this @ilovewritingfics 💕

Notes: although it’s written from Remy’s POV (I’ve never written a POV before for anything!), the fic is set in Nikolai’s route, which sounds weird, but you’ll see what I mean. No specific TWs for the fic, it covers Nikolai’s trauma surrounding his family, so if you aren’t up to date and don’t want a spoiler on that, or if it’s upsetting to you, consider giving this one a miss.

Word Count 2100

I want to credit my lovely friend @stopforamoment for her suggestion on the topic for this short fic - thank you lovely.

—-

[MORE] [[MORE]]

Dinner Club. One of my favourite things we do together. Every member of The Gilded Poppy is different and everyone has their own interests, of course. But this is something we can all enjoy, and I love this family time so much: everyone laughing, sharing food, telling stories, teasing each other... It’s always such fun to be part of this, and after a successful heist, it’s even better!

After all, tonight we have a beautiful vintage fencing sword in our possession! I know, it’s part of a much larger plan, but for tonight at least, stealing it has made Niko really happy, and that makes me happy. He’s sitting at the end of the table with a glint in his eye, listening to Daisy and Leon chatter joyfully about the (I must say, very predictable) ‘twist’ at the end of some romance novel. It’s a glint that I’ve seen a lot since Daisy joined our (very attractive) crime family. I smile to myself as I watch how her cheeks colour so prettily when she notices his eyes fixed on her, like she’s the only person in the room. It’s been a long time since I’ve saw Niko’s interest pique the way it does when she’s close by, if ever, actually. The energy between them, it’s something quite unique: special. She’s a match for him in ways I’ve never seen before, and the challenge is good for him. It’s like she set off a spark in him and all of the wonderful things that make him Niko, are just ‘more’ with her around. I watch them play their game - anticipation, flirtation, power and control - I’m well-versed in ‘love’ and seduction (some would say ‘a master’) but this something else: it’s not part of a con, not something ‘to get out of your system’... I only hope Daisy doesn’t tire of it, because I’ve never seen someone get the better of Nikolai Stirling the way she can.

I lean forward skewering something delicious from the sharing platter in front of me, popping it into my mouth, laughing along to the friendly debate Zoe, Jett and Vivienne are having. Vivienne’s losing her argument and is trying to convince me to fight her corner, but I’m too preoccupied with how I could use my conman charms to ‘gently persuade’ my best friend and Daisy to forget who is winning their mindgames and push them closer together. Niko will hate me meddling, but it’s for his own good! Maybe tomorrow I can-

My plotting is abruptly ended as the waiter heading to a table behind us is jostled by a man who tries to squeeze past him in a space that’s too narrow. It’s like the world slows down... I can see what’s unfolding, but I’m powerless: I have no time, no way of stopping it. The waiter loses his footing, one arm flailing. I’m holding my breath! He recovers (barely) without falling over, but not before the glass of Amarone perched on his tray swirls and sloshes to one side, a crescendo of blood-red bursting free down the front of Nikolai’s crisp white shirt. The bold bouquet of fruit and spice hits my nose as deep red splatters bleed and seep across the fabric. Nikolai is frozen, complete horror etched across his face. Suddenly, all I can see is the scared fifteen year-old I befriended on the streets of Paris carrying a sick kitten.

The waiter has discarded his tray; he’s panicked and apologising to Nikolai, fumbling for a napkin to try to blot away the mess. Our friends have noticed, but before anyone else can react, I’m halfway across the table with the salt cellar slipped inside my pocket. I wrap one comforting arm around Niko, my other hand on the waiters arm, reassuring him (in flawless Italian, of course) that everything is under control and I’ll take it from here. Within seconds, I have Nikolai on his feet, gripping him close to me as I guide him towards the restroom: always moving forward. I keep my free arm across his chest, deliberately, to shield the stains from his sight; leaning in close, chattering to distract him. Anything I can do, anything to keep him walking until I can get him inside. He’s hyperventilating by the time we enter the plush restroom, and fortunately it’s empty.

“Niko? Breathe. Slowly. Come on.”

He’s still not responding, I gently put pressure on his shoulder, manoeuvring him onto an Art Deco-style chaise beside a large mirror. I crouch in front of him, cupping his face in my hands, offering comfort, speaking softly,

“It’s ok. I’m here. Your Remy’s got you. It’s going to be ok. You’re safe.”

It’s a mantra I repeat several times over while he trembles. Minutes feel much longer, but now his breathing is slowing and for the first time since the spillage, he makes eye contact with me. I’m so relieved! I nod and smile before I press a heartfelt kiss to his cheek. The worst has passed. He’s going to be ok.

I pause, taking just a few seconds to catch my own breath: getting him away from the table to a safe space, keeping him moving, it was all automatic, all done on instincts. But now, my mind races. I’m so glad this happened when I was at the table; would anyone else have been able to get him out the way I did? Would he have let anyone else lead him off like this? He looked so vulnerable just now, it breaks my heart to think of it...

‘Focus, Remy. Come on. You’re not done yet.’

I lean back, fingers shifting to his collar, offering him my most suggestive grin,

“Lose the shirt.”

Nikolai manages a weak laugh (I knew that would get him!) as his fingers move toward his buttons, I realise a second too late that his hands are shaking too much to undo them. He mutters a strangled apology and rakes a hand through his dark hair as I make short work of them, startled by just how hard his heart hammers inside his chest, even now, minutes after the incident. He shrugs his way out of the shirt and I take it to the counter, grabbing some paper towels to blot out the liquid before dumpling half of the stolen salt cellar onto the stain. Selecting an expensive-looking cologne from the selection provided, I head back to Niko, spritzing it around him as I go, trying to erase the lingering scent of the alcohol from his nostrils.

As I join him on the chaise, he clears his throat awkwardly, his usually crisp clear voice barely audible at all,

“Thank you.”

I bump my shoulder against his, still trying to lighten the mood,

“Pas de problème.”

He still looks like he’s met a ghost, and I can feel the seat vibrate under me from his agitated tapping foot. But at least he’s speaking to me: when things have happened before, things that have triggered horrible memories for him, sometimes it’s taken hours to get him to even look at me. The first time it happened, long before The Gilded Poppy existed, we were only street kids, sleeping rough and begging. I’ll never forget it as long as I’m alive. A group of men left a bar near where we were hoping to earn a few francs, one of them was worse for wear and fell to the ground, vomiting. It wasn’t until I turned to Niko, ready to make some sassy comment about how the drunk couldn’t hold his liquor or his wallet, that I realised something was very, very wrong. It took hours for him to come back around, and days to feel better afterwards... I didn’t have a very happy childhood, and I was forced to grow up quickly, but not in the same way as Niko. The things he suffered... I can’t help but put myself into his shoes, picturing my family around our small dinner table, my lovely old meme, my mother bringing food to the table, my father chatting to my young brother about school... How unreal it must have felt to Niko, how terrifying. I cannot begin to imagine: to watch your whole family die... And such a painful death... It’s little wonder it haunts him. I scrub my hand across my eyes trying to shake the sickening scene.

I clap my hand on Niko’s knee as I stand, heading back to check how the salt is working on his shirt: it may seem ridiculous, but a conman has to think fast, and you never know when a cleaning tip like this will be useful! Of course, the shirt is looking much better - now I just need to rinse it and dry it off. Almost done. I bustle around the washbasin, running the breast of Niko’s shirt under the piping water, rinsing away the salt, pink dye flowing down the drain, erasing tonight’s events. I hold it up to the lights, smiling as I do.

“I think the shirt will survive, Niko.”

I start the hand drier, just as I hear Niko murmur something, far too low for me to hear over the roar,

“What was that?”

I stop, making my way back across to the chaise, gesturing for Niko to repeat himself. He looks up at me with the saddest blue eyes,

“I never wanted her to see me, like, this. How can she...” His posture visibly stiffens, “She won’t respect me after this?”

I frown. Of course, he’s talking about Daisy. And something in his voice tells me that Daisy’s ‘respect’ isn’t the feeling he’s truly worried about, but while he’s shirtless in a restaurant bathroom really isn’t the best time for me to play Cupid... I try to tell Nikolai that Daisy is the last person who would think any less of him because of this, she is so lovely: surely he knows her well enough, to know that? Daisy is sensitive and kind: she would understand. But he’s still shaken and so agitated about what happened at the table, my honest words make no difference; his barricades are going up and he mutters that he doesn’t want her pity. I make a show of raising one eyebrow at him, and shaking my head before I march back to the hand drier. I love Niko dearly, but he can be so stubborn, it makes me crazy!

Ten minutes later, Niko is looking much more collected, and is back in his gleaming white shirt: I am a man of many talents, it’s true! He straightens himself up in front of the mirror as I watch on: it’s almost as though nothing ever happened. We exit the restroom and rejoin our friends. Everyone is wonderfully discrete: they pretend we never left the table. Niko doesn’t utter a single word for the rest of the evening. His expression is strained and he doesn’t touch a bite of his food - he’s going through the motions but I know he can’t wait for the evening to end. I chip in some delightful anecdotes to help keep the conversation flowing, but what happened tonight weighs heavily on me: what if this happened and I wasn’t here? What if something like this happened on a heist? What if I couldn’t get to him? What would we do? How could I keep my best friend safe? What if something went wrong and I wasn’t around anymore? Who else understands like me?

I meet Daisy’s big brown eyes over the table, concern is written across her face. She really cares for Niko, it’s so obvious. I wish he would let her in... Having someone else who loves you, an extra person in this world looking out for you, to rely on... She could be the best thing that ever happened to him. She could make him happy, I can see it all.

I make a silent promise to myself: they say that love will find a way? Well, it certainly will when Remy Chevalier helps it along.

[unimpressedperson]

“10 Movies to Describe Me” tag

Hey, as I ever said, I LOVE cinema and going to the movies, watching documentaries, enjoying life by studying every nuance present on the 7th art.

Along life we have contact with a bunch of movies and references that affect our personalities, view of world, and even how we act towards some situations. Cinema is a powerful way of art, possibly influencing.

Everyone has a list of movies which influenced our personal growth. This list is all about it: 10 Movies you can use to describe me.

1 - Spirited Away

Well, I think Spirited Away was my first contact with cinematography eastern culture and made me go further in searching for more. I was 5 or 6 when I watched and fell in love with it.

Nowadays I know how to respect different cultures, have a deep interest in stories and mythologies from other countries. Thank you Studios Ghibli!

Influenced personality: Love for mythology and cultures.

2 - The Adventures of Priscilla, Queen of the Desert

I LOVE drag queens and everything related to that subculture. I remember watching that movie as a kid, after midnight and hiding from my parents, which advised me to sleep because I had school the next morning.

Everything seemed so colourful and amazing, almost magical. A explosion of music and dresses, high heels, makeup, big wigs and dancing.

While growing up it influenced my choices on sports, acceptance, music, and love for drag culture.

RuPaul's Drag Race is part of my love for drag queens, but it wasn't the first reference. Btw, support your local queens and art.

Influenced personality: Dancing skills, LGBT acceptance (when it comes to myself, I have nothing to do with someone else's sexuality), love for drag culture and pop music.

3 - Blackfish

Oh ma'am, now we got to a very rough part of my personality: my HATE and INDIGNATION over zoos and aquariums.

I don't like zoos, not at all. Watching animals caged in small spaces and sad, oh boy, it makes me want to invade the whole place with a hammer and set them free.

Before watching Blackfish I didn't quite realize how bad everything was for fishes in Aquariums as well. Now, I want to start petitions against Sea World and Aquário de São Paulo.

I love animals, WAY MORE than I enjoy being around humans, so knowing how suffering is their life inside small places makes me want to cage humans and let them walk freely.

Influenced personality: Love for sea animals and thirsty for their justice.

4 - Inglorious Basterds

(This scene is one of my favourites lol)

#ILOVEHISTORYANDTARANTINO

Well, Inglorious Basterds is a very historically inaccurate movie, but I love it with all my stone cold heart. There are so many catchphrases and iconic moments.

I just love that movie. Nothing really special or meaningful.

Influenced personality: The need for kill Nazis lol

5 - The Perks of Being a Wallflower

I was a very angst teenage and depressed as well, not counting anxiety on the mix. When I was 13 The Perks of Being a Wallflower aired on cinemas, and suddenly all my concerns about acting weird and not normal, compared to other girls around and whose studied with me, kind of seemed so pointless, mainly because Patrick, Charlie and Sam seemed to have so much fun, even acting quirckly and being classified as misfits.

My story has nothing to do with neither of characters, but I related a lot to them. So I think a big part of me came and flourished after watching The Perks of Being a Wallflower.

Also, it taught me the importance of speaking how you feel, therapy and trusting people enough to tell them when something wrong is going on.

The book is also one of my favourites, so I’m not impartial when it comes to The Perks of Being a Wallflower

Influenced personality: Not afraid of being myself, fight for human basic right of having mental health treatment guaranted and embracing my quirk personality.

6 - Erin Brockovich

Everyone who knows me well enough, is VERY aware of how independent and self-suficient I am. I hate depending on people for completing tasks or doing stuff, so most of the time I try to learn do things all by myself. It’s something natural inside of me, partly because I don’t get lonely, so the idea of depending on someone to anything makes me cringy.

Erin Brockovich is a movie I watched when I was 12 and the way Erin acted towards everyone, giving priority to her life and kids, not caring about everyone else’s opinion, it made me root to be independent like her (except for the kids and struggle to find a job). Erin exhales big dick energy, also the ending made me aplaud the movie (even tho I was alone at home watching it).

Influenced personality: I learnt how to classify my priorities, also improved my confidence on how I act, since Erin isn’t afraid of achieving things and proving her point, even if everyone else is against and won’t believe her.

7 - Lilo & Stitch

I think every single living human alive had at least one movie, you know this one movie, which you obsessed during your childhood. It doesn’t matter the genre, you watched it nonstop and pissed off your whole house with how repetitive movie marathons seemed to get with you, since everytime you picked whatever you were about to watch, your choice was quite predictable.

The movie I obsessed during my childhood was Lilo & Stitch (also Scooby Doo, where do you think I learned how to copy someone’s fingerprint by using pore cleanser and powder?).

As I mentioned a few items ago, I was a misfit and it played a big part on my life, being excluded from parties, playdates and games during P.E was common. It bothered me, but everything changed when we adopted my first dog, a dachshund called Xuxinha. We were Lilo & Stitch, whenever people treated me badly at school, I knew that she would be waiting for me at home.

Xuxinha passed away in 16th February 2017, and I still miss her.

  Influenced personality: It helped understand that people are douchebags, but as long as I have my dog/sister at home to hold and distract me, then nothing else matters. I learned the importance of surounding yourself with people who cares about your well-being, not caring specie, ethnicity, etc.

8 - Wonder

I don’t think this item requires a lot of text to describe why I felt influenced by it. Watch the movie and let’s sob together.

Influenced personality: Learned why appearance means nothing, and everyone goes through some struggle, so always be there for people who cares about you as much as you do about them. Also, always stand up against bullying, it may look like a joke now, but it can be the trigger for fatalities.

9 - Spotlight

I study Social Communication: Journalism, that’s what I’ve been wishing to do and want to be in the future. Even tho I decided what I wanted as my career YEARS before the release of Spotlight, it helped me define which kind of journalism I wanted to follow: Investigative.

It feels like I just made 4 out of 2+2, considering the fact that I love detective stories and would love to be a detective myself, but watching and acknowledging that all the investigation and  accusations were based on real facts, oh Ma’am, I can’t even describe the thrill consuming my mind only by imagining what it feels like to be involved journalistically in an investigation.

Influenced personality: My PASSION for investigative journalism.

10 - The Imitation Game

Last but not least: The Imitation Game.

Well, I constantly get annoyed on how biased our society is, for real, and whenever it happens I write poems and texts and protest, and piss off a bunch of people by only talking about a situation of inequality. When I first watched The Imitation Game the whole Alan Turing being castrated and killing himself because of homophobia and a VERY, I repeat, VERY narrow-minded society, it PISSED OFF THE HELL OUT OF ME, and I used this rage during a full semester of college paper works.

I named a group after Alan Turing and our semester project was basically about people being biased and killing genius because they cannot look further from their own bellybottoms. I won a “Oscar de Jornalismo”, which is the award that happens every six month in my college, prizing the best works from the semester.

It still makes me so angry to imagine what Alan Turing could had done if he lived for at least 20 more years.

Influenced personality: Well, it made me channel my rage about a situation and helped me to understand why we should discuss homophobia, racism, wars, etc, even harder now. Watching the world following the path for making the same mistakes all over again is frightening, and only history can help us.

- x-

It has potential to be a tag, so I’ll tag some people I want to know what movies inspired them. You don’t have to make a whole long ass text about your choices, just sharing is enough :)

@ohmydearmoonchild @okayycalum @emerson-moonchild @btsqualityy @theburntwaffle

[littlemisssquiggles]

RWBY Musings #44: A Squiggle Meister’s Views on Whitley Schnee. The Proverbial Black Sheep of the Schnee Siblings or the overlooked Diamond in the Rough?

An uncommon character for me to muse about, I know. I don’t generally make it habit to ponder about this character but, oddly enough, recently I got thinking about Whitley Schnee. Mind you, Whitley didn’t exactly receive the most favourable of introductions back during the events of RWBY Volume 4.

However, in spite of this, it didn’t deter from making him come off as a less than interesting character.

I wanted to take today to not really do any sort of in-depth analysis on Whitley but rather share one or two ponderings about him that I’ve considered. To think, this all started with just one thought.

Whitley with the Good Hair

Imagine...the same Whitley Schnee we all know from RWBY but with fluffy, unkempt, wavy, hair. 

I am not even joking with this. Not gonna lie either. Whitley’s hair kinda bugs me a little bit. It’s so perfectly well-kept all the time that at moments when he’s onscreen, it almost appears too perfect if you actually get what I’m saying and I don’t sound like a complete imbecile bringing up this point. Never have I figured I’d have to use the words ‘outlandishly neat hair’ to describe a character.

In an odd way, I pegged Whitley to be the type to be born with hair that’s not exactly like his sisters. I noticed from the Schnee Family portrait in their residence that Jacques’ hair doesn’t seem to be as naturally white as snow as he’d like others to presume.

As a matter of fact, in the portrait, Jacques’ hair is predominantly black but while his mustache is still dark, you can tell that his hair was starting to grey a bit from age. That’s right, I said, grey. Not white.

However, when we met Jacques in the series, both his hair and mustache were completely chalk white. Give the man a big red and white bucket of fried chicken and he’d be Colonel Sanders.

A dye job perhaps? I wouldn’t put it past him. The series has already painted Jacques as such a ‘wannabe Schnee’, that it wouldn’t surprise me not one bit if he did change his hair colour to fit with his new Schnee title. This actually makes me curious about Jacques’ origin.

What kind of upbringing and background would a man such as that have to come from to become this kind of tyrannical person? So far, we know naught of Jacques’ previous life beyond the fact that he married into the Schnee Family and was only interested in Mama Schnee for her name. This is a man who wanted to the wealth, power and status that the Schnee name brought that he was willingly to feign romantic interest in the Daughter of the Head of the Schnee Dust Company to do so.

This is a man who wanted to be somebody. So with that thought in mind, this pegs the question. How much of a nobody did Jacques used to be before becoming a Schnee?

This makes me wonder if even having children, the proclaimed heirs, is nothing but another superficial front for Jacques to hide behind. It makes me wonder if Jacques has any real intention of ever giving up being the Head of the Schnee Dust Company. This is a man who stole the integrity of a well-known and trusted name in Remnant and tarnished it for his own egotistical greed.

Would a man as devious as that wholeheartedly and willingly just hand the reigns to someone else, even if that someone was his own spawn and rightful heir? I don’t think so. I think Jacques might even end up double crossing Whitley, the current heir, in the end and using him to heighten his running in the company.

This brings me back to Whitley again. This post is supposed to be about the youngest Schnee Sibling after all and not his bad-minded father. However Jacques will be mentioned now and again because the type of person Whitely is now, is as a result of Jacques’ grooming.

Resuming talk about his hair. Soft, silky, snow-white hair seems to be a hereditary trait amongst the Schnee bloodline. That being said, what if...like his father, Whitley’s hair is different from his sisters. Though it may be white in colour as a Schnee’s head would be, the texture of his hair is not of his family.

Imagine if...Whitley’s hair is naturally wavier than his sister’s, creating this constantly dishevelled look that he hates because it’s not the vision of him that his father wants of him and because of this, Whitley desperately tries to keep it under control.  Whitley certainly strikes me as the type. He’s so snooty all the time and his hair oddly mimics that level of contempt.

I’m kind of chuckling to myself imagining for Atlas Arc where Whitley is forced to play nice and befriend our heroes because Jacques is making him act the part as a means of gathering intel. But that’s not why I’m laughing. I’m laughing because I’m envisioning Whitley hanging out with the Rosebuds: Ruby and Oscar and the two, mostly Ruby’s idea, drag the poor Schnee boy to an area where there’s water.

And while Ruby and Oscar go for a quick dip, Whitley cautiously chooses to stay dry, remarking that he doesn’t quite enjoy going to pool areas because he doesn’t like getting his hair wet. However Ruby and Oscar don’t buy the excuse and hatch a plan to get the Schnee boy to join them. So while Ruby distracts Whitley, Oscar sneaks up behind him and playfully shoves him into the water.

It was originally meant as a playful joke to get the pretentious rich boy to loosen up a little but the entire act ends up infuriating Whitley. Turns out, Whitley is just as harsh with words when he’s pissed like his sister Weiss.

But as Whitley is uncharacteristically yelling at our veteran rose buds, Ruby and Oscar are in awe.

Not for Whitley losing his cool, which was a first, but because of what the water had done to his hair. When Whitley had fell into the water, it washed away whatever chemical hair products that was keeping it at bay because Whitley now stood with a full head of the fluffiest curly white locks the two had ever seen.

He looked like a completely different person; albeit while also looking like an angry lollipop with a head of white cotton candy.

And upon realizing what had happened based on Ruby and Oscar’s shared surprised reactions, Whitley becomes incredibly embarrassed at the fact that his secret was out and before anyone could tell him to stop, Whitley immediately climbs out of the water and storms off.  

If Whitley had tougher hair, he’d probably trust Klein to comb it because he’s the only one who fully understands Whitley’s need to please his father.

Just picture, Whitley Schnee---the real Whitley Schnee with his natural fluffy ‘bed head’ posed disgruntled before a mirror, looking disgustedly at himself, surrounded by varying hair styling utensils and products while Klein works his magic to get the young boy looking like a proper boy; just as daddy would like it.    

Yup. Whitley definitely strikes me as that type. The type who would have wild, unruly hair but is able to pull it off quite handsomely because, though a little more difficult to maintain that his sisters’, Whitley actually has really good hair. Whitley with the good hair. He just needs to learn how to maintain it but unfortunately doesn’t want to.

To Whitely, while the wild natural ‘bed head’ look might suit him better because he’d look less like a mini-Jacques with it, due to the young man’s obsession with living up to his father’s expectations of him, he keeps this side hidden because...the real him isn’t up to his father’s standards. Neat Whitley is and that’s how he wants to keep it.

Yep. Though this is all mostly me just speculating, I can totally see this being canon because as I’ll say again, Whitley strikes me as that type of character. The type that probably has another side to him that feels more true to himself but chooses not to show it often or at all. The type that would need someone to help him with his hair and other things because he doesn’t know how to maintain this delusion of himself on his own. Someone to help him keep his guise up, quickly painting all the cracks in his mask whenever  one of his many pretences start to fall apart and his real nature and feelings start to leak out.

The type where if the slightest thing isn’t perfect, he’ll completely unravel and wouldn’t know how to piece himself back together without help from those who truly care about him because he’d been forced to suppress himself for so long. At least, this is how I’m interpreting Whitley’s character.

Apple Doesn’t Fall Far From the Tree

‘...It’s foolish, not to do what father asks...’

‘Are you jealous? Is that it? Whatever do you mean? Is that why you hate me? Are you jealous of my abilities? Of Winter’s? Hmm. Not really. Honestly I find it barbaric. It’s beneath people like me, like father...’

Y’know what’s funny? If you pay attention to some of Whitley’s dialogue from V4, you can interpret a lot about his character regardless of whether it was the writers’ intention for this assumption or not. For starters, what I’m gathering from this is that Whitley, contrary to what Weiss might think of him right now, doesn’t hate his sisters’.

Between Weiss and Winter, I feel a stronger connection with Weiss resonating from Whitley. I certainly get the vibe that he likes her more than Winter.

‘...You’re strong, like Winter. You never liked Winter. True. But you can’t deny her resolve...’

What’s interesting to note is when Weiss called Whitley out for disliking Winter, he didn’t deny it. As a matter of fact, he openly admitted it without the slightest hint of remorse. However when Weiss questioned Whitley about hating her, he never exactly said he did. His answer was a nonchalant ‘not really’. So Whitley dislikes Winter but not Weiss. So why is that?

Here’s my deduction. I think the reason why Whitley may resent Winter is because in his head, not only was she the first to defy their father but she was one whose actions encouraged Weiss to follow in her defiant footsteps; choosing to study to become a huntress away at Beacon rather than in Atlas where Jacques continue to keep a very tight reigns on her.

Winter was the first to break free from her cage and started this whole debacle of disobedience. If Winter had just stayed in line, then Whitley wouldn’t have lost not one but both of his sisters.

‘...You seem different. And you’ve been gone. I’ll have you know, I didn’t stop growing while you were away at Beacon...’

In rewatching this scene where Whitley was first introduced, this line he said to Weiss really stuck out to me. It kind of implies Whitley’s true feelings about Weiss leaving here. It tells me, as the viewer, that Whitley might be harbouring some unspoken feelings of bitterness towards his sister’s departure for Beacon.

I’m not sure how close the Schnee Siblings were growing up but it is safe to assume that there was some level of closeness as family, right? The impression I got here is that to Whitley, with his sisters around there was the slight comfort of knowing that he wasn’t alone. Even if their relationship was shaky, his sisters were always present in his life at all times. But because Weiss chose to defy their father, like Winter did before her, for a second time in his life, Whitley lost yet another sister.

His big sister had left home...left Jacques...left him and why? To forge her own path outside of the sheltered lifestyle their father had laid out for them.

There is no doubt that Whitley is loyal to Jacques to a fault. He’s such a trained canary with the way how he just blindly follows Jacques around and adheres to everything he says and does; that it makes me wonder if this kid is even human and not some robo-child programmed to be subservient to the whim of Jacques Schnee.

Even Penny Pollendina felt more human than machine than Whitley and she was the real deal.

That being said, I also believe there is no denying that Whitley...in his own Whitley way, loves his sisters. Particularly Weiss and when they both left...it probably hurt. A lot more than he alludes to. Perhaps he feels like his sisters both abandoned him. While Weiss and Winter stayed close and held on to each other, Whitley was left alone with only Jacques as his guide.

Not even Mama Schnee was around, as it would seem. Too preoccupied with her own drunkard stupor to be there for her own son.

Speaking of which, did anyone else notice that in V4, Jacques keeps a picture of Whitley on his desk in his study but one of his own wife on the shelf in the corner of the room?

What does that say? Whitley is certainly special to Jacques. I mean, he is the only he has left. The only one that hasn’t pulled away. His little perfectly groomed puppet that he occasionally likes to parade around for all of Atlas to see what a caring father he is including every wealthy Atlesian aristocrat dumb enough to fall for their act and invest in Jacques. It’s a never-ending game of manipulation where Whitley is the sole MVP.

However the weird thing is, I don’t get Whitley’s real motive for following Jacques. Though he’s painted as a puppet, the way how Whitley played Weiss---oh I’m sorry, based on the way Weiss claimed Whitley played her like a fiddle while he himself didn’t deny that that was his intentions from the start, makes me wonder if he could have his own schemes underway.

Whitley is such an elusive character to me that I can’t tell if his faithfulness to Jacques is out of blind love, a son’s desperate need for his father’s constant appraisal and acknowledgment or...could Whitley have his own plans for the Schnee Dust Company and Jacques is just too ignorant to notice his own son’s deceit?

I brought up this hunch in another musing about Whitley. Sure Jacques is probably just manipulating Whitley and using him in the same fashion he does for everything and everyone around him. But what if...the twist is that Whitley is also using Jacques and plans on giving him his just desserts.

They say karma is a cold-hearted bitch so wouldn’t it be ironic and a fitting punishment for Jacques to get taken down by the very perfect child he’s been grooming to be like him in the same fashion he duped Mama Schnee? A nice addition to Whitley’s character is if of all the Schnee children, he’s the one that cared about their mother the most.

Though like father, like son, I like the idea of Whitley being a momma’s boy too; sharing a close bond with Mamma Schnee from since birth. I imagined, before Weiss’ 10th birthday, Mamma Schnee was probably a very loving mother who adored all her children. However Whitley was the spoiled one because he was the baby of the bunch. But after hearing the truth that the man she’s been married to for years didn’t truly love her, the news changed Mamma Schnee and suddenly, she just wasn’t the same caring person anymore.

What if...as a young boy, Whitley was very close to his mother and hated the pain his own father caused her growing up. So much so that he’s been plotting his own devious scheme for years, smartly playing the role of ‘the good child’ as a ploy to gain Jacques’ trust before removing him from the picture as revenge. That’s one cool hunch for Whitley’s character story, dontcha think?

The Phantom of the Schnee Dust Company

Speaking of ideas for Whitley’s character story, this brings me to a next theory I’m wanna talk about.  

Does Whitley Schnee secretly have summoning powers like his sisters?

Winter Schnee once told Weiss that every member of the Schnee family has the ability to summon and have done so for generations. She made mention of this back in V3. That being said, I wonder if the same can be said for Whitley, who isn't a huntsman per say, but certainly has the potential to unlock this kind of power given his lineage, right?

What’s to say he hasn’t already? Perhaps, Whitley already awakened his semblance but no one else knows of this. Not even Jacques. I believe Whitley Schnee probably does possess summoning powers but unlike his sisters, who have both fully embraced their potential, Whitley despises his powers and thus, suppresses his abilities.

We’ve seen two Schnees accept their powers upon unlocking them. What would happen to one who’s unlocked their power but shows resistance?

This is going to sound weird to say but perhaps, Whitley’s Schnee power is surprisingly the strongest of the three siblings; even more powerful than his sisters’ combined; probably mirroring that of their grandfather’s skill level at that age.

Wouldn’t be surprised if Whitley associates the Schnee’s hereditary semblance with being a curse due to the rebellious nature that its current wielders seem to adopt once fully realizing their potential. After all, look at Winter and Weiss. They both left Jacques’ cold clutches upon acknowledging their strength as huntresses.

What if...Jacques has drilled into Whitley’s head that having such powers is a curse in itself because it made his sisters’ insolent and thus, Whitley sees it the same way too.

The more I consider it, the more I’m falling in love with the concept of Whitley having summoning abilities but because he chooses to ignore the existence of such powers within himself and thus represses his own semblance, he’s lost control of his own summoning.

Imagine...Whitley being haunted by a summon he unintentionally manifested in the real world? Besides having an arsenal of summons to chose from, both Winter and Weiss seem to have a signature summon that they call upon the most. For Winter, it’s her Beowolves. For Weiss, it’s her Arma Gigas.

So what if...Whitley’s summon is a Geist? A literal phantom that can take the form of anything it possesses. A creature of many masks, no different than its amateur summoner.

The Geist, being a summon, acts on the will of Whitley, its summoner. However because Whitley has been suppressing his powers for so long, he doesn’t quite know how to control the summon. Similar to how Weiss lost control and accidentally summoned a Boarbatusk at the charity ball out of her frustration with one of its disrespectful patrons, imagine Whitley’s Geist manifesting itself during moments when his emotions at its peak and the creature acts out on those negative emotions.

I’m just envisioning a side story for the upcoming Atlas Arc where some strange occurrences have been happening around Atlas that put the Schnee Dust Company in the spotlight. Competitor company buildings going up in flames. Missing former employees who were all reported to have quit the job in recent times. Severe injuries and in some cases, death, surrounding people who were in recent alleged heated contact with head of the company: Jacque Schnee; etc. At first the incidences were suspected to be White Fang activity, even though the White Fang haven’t been relevant since the Triumph of Haven and the reformation of the Brotherhood. But due to the unusual nature of the cases and the fact that no evidence was found at the scene of the crimes, these incidences eventually became closed cases. But that didn’t stop it from creating negative propaganda that brought the Schnee Dust Company to the forefront of the Atlesian headlines; catching the attention of the public including Weiss and Winter.

Imagine...Weiss and Winter working together to solve the mystery of what was going on within their family company while subsequently concocting a plan to remove Jacques Schnee once and for all under the assumption that he’s been orchestrating the events as an interrogation tactic to ward off competition while gaining the sympathy of the public eye. So in the beginning, Jacques Schnee was believed to be the main culprit. However, in the midst of it all, all traces of added evidence started pointing towards the true mastermind: Whitley Schnee who had been using his newly awakened semblance to get his father ahead and keep him at the top.

But do you know what the bigger twist would be? That Jacques was oblivious to Whitley’s powers and his intentions of using them the way he did.

Even better. Wanna hear the biggest twist? Whitley is oblivious to his own powers or at least, decides not accept that they aren’t real and his to control. While the rich boy was aware of the strange occurrences was due to a monster, he called ‘The Phantom’, what he didn’t know was that the beast was his summon. He always figured the beast was a ghost sent by karma to haunt him. But what he didn’t realize was that the wild summon was a manifestation of his own suppressed powers he’d been trying to hide even though they’d been growing stronger. So strong that’d become erratic with the summoned Geist appearing chaotic in form.

I just would love to see Whitley as a summoner; particularly an antagonistic one. I wonder if this is what the CRWBY Writers might be alluding to with his character or at least it’s one way to look at it. At first I figured he might’ve been the one to have no powers. But imagine if he does but uses them for all the wrong reasons; be it intentional or not.

Picture....a Battle of the Schnees where for the first time in RWBY history, Winter and Weiss tag-team to take down a crazed and broken Whitley who is revealed to be a summoner like his sisters and whose own summon had been attacking victims on Whitley’s behalf.

Of course, like I mentioned before, Whitley is unaware of this because he’s been suppressing his powers just he’d be suppressing so many other things about himself, forcibly trying to keep it all at bay to maintain his facade of perfection.

But in the end, it all falls apart and the Schnee boy suffers a mental breakdown with his own monstrous phantom lashing out because of it. So it’s up to his big sisters to come to his rescue.

Doesn’t that sound like a cool story to tell?

I want so much from the Atlas Arc. So many side stories I wanna see done and this is one of them. And if it leads to Whitley receiving an inkling of redemption; y’know reconciling things with his sisters with the three Schnee Siblings finally coming together as a family which then leads to them working together to put an end to Jacques’ reign, wouldn’t that be an interesting way to conclude Weiss’ story arc with her family on a positive light?

I know this is something I’d love to see as part of the Atlas Arc. But again, I’m not a writer for RWBY so I am curious to see what Miles and Kerry has in store for us going forward, particularly for Whitley.  

A Better Whitley

Although I originally wrote him off as a bad character, I’m actually intrigued as to where the CRWBY Writers are going to go with Whitley’s development, particularly regarding his role in the upcoming Atlas Arc.

I know for a fact that Whitley will be a major player in Weiss’ side of the story, for sure.

Don’t get me wrong, I still desire for Whitley to be an antagonist or rival character to Oscar Pine in the arena for Ruby’s affections.

While I doubt Whitley would have any genuine affection towards Ruby beyond using her in a similar fashion his own father used his mother, I think Whitley would be the perfect Ying to Oscar’s Yang to give the farm boy a well-deserved shove towards realizing his true feelings for the Silver Eyed Girl.

I love the idea of Whitley being a rival to Oscar. But believe it or not, I also like the idea of the two becoming allies too if possible. Whitley looks like he could use more people in his life that care about him besides his father. Maybe even Klein cares deeply for Whitley---the father figure he deserves but he just never acknowledges it. I think Oscar can be a good friend for Whitley.

While I don’t ship Rich Farmers as a relationship (proud RoseGardener over here), I do like the thought of them being a friendship. If Rubes becomes Oscar’s closest best friend, then can the precious farm boy begrudgingly become the snooty rich boy’s best friend or...the closest thing to it?

The kind of friendship that I imagine Oscar and Whitley having is the one where either originally hated each other’s guts but when you eliminate the object that made them butt heads in the first place (like Whitley pursuing Ruby and Oscar becoming jealous for of it), turns out the two might actually get along quite well. May even like each other...or at least respect the other enough to not kill them in their sleep when they piss them off.

An unlikely friendship that thrives on a shit ton of inside jokes and even more sarcastic quips at the other’s expense. The kind of friendship that makes others question why and how the two participants befriended each other when their attitude makes it seem like they hate each other when in actuality, they love each other like two inglorious bastard brothers bred from the same illegitimate father called anarchy.

So yeah, while I’m drawn to the concept of Whitley being a rival and a mini boss character, I’d also like to learn more about his character in hopes that he may be redeemed.

Though not much was revealed about Whitley back in V4, it did hint of there being more layers to him and I’m hoping we get to explore those layers once the group returns to Atlas.

I just don’t want for Whitley to be another throw away character who’s just there for the sake of moving the plot along or being an unnecessary red herring. I don’t want Whitley to be another Vernal or Professor Lionheart. Both characters had the potential for more, the writers just chose not to flesh them out before cutting straight to their inevitable deaths in the Haven Battle.

While very straightforward, this left me feeling more like these two characters were merely just plot devices rather than what they’re supposed to be---actual characters. While the CRWBY writers didn’t necessarily have to keep these characters around for future arcs, my complaint here is that they could’ve done a much better job at fleshing them out.

As I said, make them feel more like characters. Never mind that they were meant to die, at least make me care about their deaths.

I don’t want this to be the case with Whitley or any character during the Atlas Arc. Which is why I’m hoping that the Conclusion to the Mistral Arc in V6 leading into the Atlas Arc would be handled much better. Regarding Whitley, the writers have already established some keen plot points to assist with composing his part in ongoing story.

I just pray that Miles and Kerry learnt from their mistakes during the last two seasons and will work towards making sure that the seasons ahead are done much better.

Despite being painting as this conniving person, when I recall V4, I don’t remember Whitley actually doing anything that’d suggest that. As a matter of fact, all the allegations that Weiss made about Whitley were pointed out by her without the show visually showing that he committed these crimes. There was a lot of ‘Tell. Not Show’ for volumes 4 and 5 and I sincerely hope this is a habit that the CRWBY will drop for the upcoming V6.

They could’ve easily not have given Weiss a brother at all. This is the thing though. Why was Whitley introduced? In the scope of things, his character wasn’t really necessary because the past seasons had already established the tension of Weiss’ relationship with Jacques and that was enough to drive her own arc during the V4 Split.

It’s not like Whitley’s introduction in V4 actually acted as a good catalyst for the events that happened to Weiss during the season that lead to her outburst at the charity ball after party to her fall out with Jacques to even her departure.

Did Whitley give Weiss the brilliant idea to present an expensive painting as part of an auction to help raise funds for Beacon, knowing full well that Weiss would fail in that regard? No.

.Did Jacques give Weiss reason to bring up the painting during their fight so that Weiss could have leverage to make mention that Whitley supported her in her idea only for the boy to turn on Weiss in the moment and take Jacques side, showing just how two faced he could be? Nope. The charity painting and the Atlesian Elite’s total disregard for the People in Vale following the Fall of Beacon was what drove Weiss to spiral out of control the way she did. Whitley Schnee played no part in that scene yet somehow Weiss blamed him like her being punished by Jacques was his doing when really...what did he do though?

Seriously. In the grander scope of things, Whitley did nothing for V4 except talk. And even when he did talk it’s not like he was being a clever snake, whispering in Weiss’ ear and encouraging her to pursue her own personal ideas that in hindsight, would please her but knowingly irk Jacques.

 Nope. All he did was play nice the entire time yet when Jacques took away her heiress status, there was Weiss accusing Whitley of being devious the entire time and there he was smiling and acting like this was all true. But in reality, nothing happened on screen to prove this.

You could remove Whitley from the story in V4 and the plot wouldn’t have played out any differently. I’m sorry to say this for all the diehard Whitley fans in the FNDM but his character added nothing more for V4 beyond giving Weiss a punching bag to point fingers at for the consequences of her own actions against Jacques; which wasn’t even necessary. Up until V4, there has been no prior mention of Weiss ever having a brother. We knew she had Winter since her debut in V3 and we knew of Jacques because he was already established as the authoritarian father she was trying to avoid. The one whose crimes she constantly found herself having to pay for and whose royal test she had to shoulder.

But there was never any mentioning of Whitley at all. Neither Schnee sisters didn’t even comment about Whitley being in the picture during their one on one talk before Winter’s leave in V3 C6. Jacques was mentioned, naturally. But no Whitley.

So then why does his character exist? What are the CRWBY writers’ setting him up to truly be? Is he indeed the proverbial black sheep of the siblings, driven by the negativity of feeling abandoned by both of his older sisters or...will he be the diamond in the rough---a conniving trickster on the surface but his trickery is merely another one of his acts to conceal the ambitions of more caring soul.

Whatever it is, I hope it isn’t another poor plot device and actually fits within the context of the story and the overall direction the Atlas Arc is leading towards.

So to conclude...

As I’ll say again, I don’t want Whitley to be another Vernal or Lionheart otherwise it’d just be boring. If he does have a bigger role to play, I hope it’s a well conducted one that gives him more depth than what was glimpsed in V4.

I’m even hoping for a twist or perhaps twists with his character like what I theorized. Overall, whatever Whitley’s story is, I hope it’s handled with enough tact to leave his fans happy and satisfied.

♦ More RWBY Musings by Squiggles

~LittleMissSquiggles (2018)

[bellarkelifestyle]

OKAY SO i know no one even ASKED for this but this came up on my dash 

and it was like the idea just formed fully all at once in my head like the whole damn thing just all of it and i couldn’t help myself so here it is this is my first time writing a fic and its ALL FLUFF don’t sue me i just couldn’t stop myself

@selflessbellamy i don’t know if this will even mildly satisfy you or if you’ll even enjoy it but i also wish bell and clarke could live in a world where dancing is a thing so here goes

set up: the unity day masquerade dance (the same one octavia gets arrested at)

Clarke’s at the Unity Day masquerade dance, alone, all because Wells had cadet training. When Clarke complained to him, he just said to go make new friends. “Life doesn’t happen just in Alpha station, Clarke.” Well, of course she knew that, she worked in med bay after all. But after her dad started berating her on wasting the best, most carefree years of her life by sitting on the couch watching old soccer games, she grabbed her mom’s old masquerade mask and huffed out the door, grumbling the entire way to the mess. 

After dancing solo to a few upbeat songs, she knew coming was a mistake when they started playing a slow song. A waltz, if she remembered correctly. Internally groaning, she was jostled and shoved until she found herself on the sidelines of the dance, watching as everyone grabbed a partner and began dancing. This was the nice thing about the Unity Day dance. For one night, when the masks were on, no one cared if you came from Farm station or Mecha, Factory, or Alpha. Everyone just… was. Was having a good time, that is, except for Clarke. Standing alone like a total loser. Of course this had to be the year there was an odd number of kids at the dance. 

All of a sudden, someone grabbed her hand and was whisking her into the crowd. Between the lights, music, quick spinning movements, and probability that someone had spiked the punch (she would bet two weeks of rations that it was that engineering kid Monty, from Farm Station), she couldn’t see where or who she had ended up with. Steadying herself by placing her hands out around her, she clutched the zipper of a jacket. A guard jacket, she realized as she took in the black colour, plastered with Ark regalia. Looking up, she began to demand, “Who-”, but when her eyes landed on the guardsman’s face, the words died out in her throat. The guy was seriously gorgeous. Tan, caramel-coloured skin, with a smattering of freckles and dark, warm, brown eyes, framed by a mess of black hair she knew was just barely restrained by the hair gel, all topped off with a self-righteous smirk. All she could manage to say was, “Oh…”, her voice trailing off as her demanding questions vanished from recent memory.

“Don’t you worry, Princess, no one’s arresting you tonight. Can’t a guard take a break?” The boy teases. Bellamy is his name, but Clarke wouldn’t learn that tonight. Taking in his uniform, she spots the name tag with the word ‘Blake’ stamped on it. Not from Alpha station then; wonder how he got onto the guard, Clarke thinks to herself. Before she can say anything, Bellamy has them moving, his feet leading Clarke to move hers as well. Normally she hates being told what to do, but in this particular case, she finds that she doesn’t mind it so much. 

She suddenly picks up on something he said, and just like that, her annoyance returns. “Hey, I’m no princess! And you’re no guard. I recognize that insignia, you’re just a cadet,” she smirks up at him, but then immediately feels bad as she sees discomfort and shame flicker across his face, before it closes off, the smirk being replaced by a cold line. She feels his hands and shoulders tense up, only further adding to their mutual discomfort. “I’m sorry,” she whispers, “that was a princess-y thing to say, wasn’t it?” His gaze opens up a bit, but he doesn’t say anything. “It’s just that, my friend’s in cadet training too. That’s where he is tonight. Training. To be a cadet.” Bellamy’s smirk returns as he watches her speak stutteringly.

He shakes his head quickly, then looks away while saying, “No worries, Princess. Your clothes gave you away, that’s all.” He turns to look back at her, and Clarke feels caught off guard by his gaze. Feeling… something, she breaks their eye contact and chooses a new topic of conversation, one decidedly less inflammatory than the Ark’s unofficial classism.

“Where’d you even learn to dance anyway?” she asks. “I thought you guard-types were all strength, no coordination.”

“All strength? I’ll thank you for that, but in fact, being a guard is all about coordination. The use of a shock baton, I’ll have you know, is like a dance. The twirling prior to its execution, it counts for everything.”

Clarke finds a snorting kind of laugh escaping her mouth, but she cuts it off, regarding him with a smirk and an eyebrow raise. “Funny,” she proclaims, and sees a proud smirk mirrored on Bellamy’s face. This time, he breaks the eye contact as he motions for her to twirl under his arm, his gaze distracted and sweeping the room. “But really, why are you here? I mean, dancing?” As their hands rejoin, Clarke studies the contrast in skin tone, his golden-brown hand large, slightly rough, dotted with a few freckles, and her hand pale, but slightly flushed, almost engulfed within his. Looking up, she sees he’s still sweeping the room.

“Let’s just say I’m keeping an eye on someone, official guard -or, cadet - duty, you know? And this arrangement provides the best view,” Bellamy snaps his gaze down to her face, then quickly travels up and down her body, before looking back up and continuing his search. “for more than one reason.” Clarke feels herself flushing, and before she has time to control it, his gaze slides back to her, annoying smirk already in place. 

Irritated by his pride, but unable to think of a response, she just huffs and grumbles about “shit-eating grins and self-confident guards” under her breath. They continue dancing, around and around. Damn, this is a really long song, Clarke complains to herself, but she knows she doesn’t really mind. Even though they just met, being in the same space as this boy doesn’t make her uncomfortable or nervous. It feels so familiar, calming almost. Like they’ve known each other for years. Like she could trust him with anything, even her life. And by the relaxed set of his shoulders, she could guess he feels the same way.

After a while of the repeating cycle of Bellamy sweeping the room, Clarke looking at his chest, and them occasionally meeting glances, she’s grateful that he swept her off the sidelines. She could’ve have been spending these minutes alone and feeling sorry for herself, instead of enjoying her time here. Her dad and Wells would be proud. 

“Thank you,” she finally says, and Bellamy cuts his sweeping glance short, turning his head back around to face Clarke, giving her an odd, questioning look, like he’s never heard the words before. She continues, “for keeping me alive.” Bellamy looks shocked for a quick second, then throws his head back, releasing a short laugh, before facing her again, the once-annoying-but-now-charming smirk on his face.

“Keeping you alive? Surely the embarrassment of spending a slow dance alone wouldn’t have been that bad,” he responds. “You don’t make it easy, you know, shuffling like that.” Seeing his amused smirk, Clarke blushes, dropping her gaze to their feet, hers hesitant, his confident, leading them around and around and around. “Hey,” he adds softly, “you’re welcome. For what it’s worth, thanks for letting me grab you off the sides like that. Appreciate it.” Clarke looks back up, and Bellamy gives her a nod paired with a small, close-lipped smile. She smiles back, and they dance in comfortable silence, stealing quick glances at each other and sharing small smiles until the song melds back into the regular fast-paced and thumping-bass variety.

She hadn’t noticed it while waltzing, but they had gradually drifted so close to each other that their chests were almost touching. It was intimate, maybe too intimate. But Clarke found herself not wanting it any other way. She peered up, and saw Bellamy staring at her, a heat in his eyes that she had never encountered before. His gaze dropped to her lips and his breathing hitched. In some sort of automatic response, she inhaled sharply, and in one quick motion he licked and then pursed his lips. His lips… The lights flashed red, and the moment broke. 

“Well,” Bellamy says, whipping his head back, followed by his hand drifting from her waist as he pulls away. 

“Well,” Clarke replies, dropping her hand from his shoulder, then looking down at their linked hands. She doesn’t really want to let go yet. She feels Bellamy’s gaze on her and looks up. He’s giving her a weird sort of expression. Quickly, reluctantly, she drops his hand, being met with only slight resistance. Twisting her fingers, she regards him, standing tall and strong beside her, his gaze confidently sweeping the room. He swivels his head back to face her so quickly Clarke fears he’s caught her staring. Instead, he just pulls his characteristic smirk. 

“Well, Princess, looks like I’ve gotta run. Guard duty and all,” he tells her as he backs away.

Bellamy’s shoulders begin to turn, and Clarke knows if she doesn’t ask now she might never get to ask again, so she blurts, “Hey! What’s your name?”

Bellamy turns back, his signature smirk lighting up his face, “Maybe next time, Princess,” and somehow manages to disappear into the crowd, despite his tall frame. As he trails off, Clarke thinks she hears the words “Best Unity Day, ever,” but she can’t be sure.

Clarke might’ve been standing there for seconds, or minutes, or even hours, but the next thing she registers is the alarm sounding. “Solar flare alert. Solar flare alert.” She snaps out of her reverie and commences the standard emergency protocol, removing her mask and pulling out her ID. 

Somewhere in the chaos, she sees a tall head of barely tamed black curls, charging through the crowd - towards a short girl with brown hair swept up into a ponytail - but she loses sight of it, of him, as a guard enters her field of vision, asking “ID, please.”

Clarke focuses on the man in front of her, relaying the words she’s been taught to say since she was a child. "Clarke Griffin, Alpha station. Medical apprentice. Parents: Dr. Abigail Griffin, and Jake Griffin.” She lets the guard move her toward the window and is left searching, wondering, about the freckled boy with hair the colour of night.

if anyone actually read this PLS PLS PLS let me know what you think i would really love to know check out my other fic here