#or - oh or - are the character portraits The Characters. this is a crack theory but hm

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

Not sure if this is where you want your asks to be sent or not, I'm new to your blog so sorry if this is the wrong place

There is another instruction for Wally that I haven't seen you talk about and I want to know your thoughts! Back in november, before the responses, the secret URLs (such as woxyve) had the word "delete" added to the end (ex: woxyvedelete) implying that they wanted Wally to delete the page. After this most recent update it changed again and now says nodelete meaning that Wally refused to do that task. Thoughts?

where else would asks be sent if not the Askbox! inbox! both!

i actually wasn't aware of this until a few days ago, when i saw a post pointing it out - i had never gone directly back to those pages. which serves me right! i'm gonna be double checking Everything from now on lmao

but my fucking GOD is it interesting. thus far Wally has been... fairly cooperative. he's had a moment here and there, such as closing the guest book and losing his patience a lil, but he does his best with the rest! especially with requests! so for him to straight up go "lmao nah" when asked to delete something...

characterization-wise, i think it's very telling. as of now, Wally has been commonly portrayed as a bit of a doormat - getting talked over, sitting off to the side, being a bit of a background character - in in-Home media. less so in his whrp/qa/You interactions, but he's still widely agreeable & willing. but him refusing to delete the urls gives major points to him Having A Spine. he's holding his ground. he knows what he's doing. he's not going to let the whrp shut him up. there's a Thought Process / Plan / Purpose being shown here, or at least hinted at. there's a sense of.... Control. of "this is the way we're doing things, this is what i'm saying and you're going to sit down and listen" it's just... such a shift from the Wally we see in his interactions with the neighbors. which again, lends credence to there being a time discrepancy, with whrp Wally being older and more "experienced" while past Wally is still figuring his shit [being alive] out <3

story-wise it adds some Delightful friction. like obviously there's already tension, what with the staff only page, "Let Me In", the mysterious black stuff, the guest book closing, and the whrp/qa being disturbed by it all. but Wally outright refusing to delete things is a Different sort of conflict. it's more... direct. which makes sense! his interactions with the whrp/qa are becoming more personal, too. but it lends to the feeling of a push-pull. as the whrp/qa investigates Wally and starts treating him like the person he is instead of a long-lost character, they're probably gonna clash (a lot) despite the apparent impulse to pursue Welcome Home. currently, Wally doesn't seem big on compromising. if he doesn't know what to do, it looks like he simply Won't or he'll do his own thing and be like "shrug". if he doesn't want to do something, it also looks like he simply Will Not.

of course, there's the strong possibility that the whrp Were Not Serious about it. the 'delete' command might have them testing the waters, poking the bear, etc. but then were they testing to see if Wally is there, or were they testing his level of compliance? both? a secret third option?

and if they Were serious about it... why? what is it about the marked urls that made the whrp go "get that outta here"? and why couldn't they delete it themselves? i mean, obviously they can't delete anything Wally adds, otherwise the extra stuff he's added probably wouldn't be there (unless the impulse / curiosity driving them is too strong to delete anything added). but there's still a why about it. what changed so fundamentally in the site's code - or laws of physics/reality - that made it impossible to alter Wally's additions?

it's just. i feel that there are a lot of implications in such a small interaction. it shows more than one would expect.

[felikatze]

THE ISLANDER EUPHRASIE THEORY: THE CRACK HEADCANON THAT RUINED ME FOREVER

HI. you might know me as the kingphie divorce guy. or as the guy who wrote the 6k ludonarrative essay. Today i am going to introduce to YOU @the-bitter-ocean's fantabulous ISLANDER EUPHRASIE THEORY!!!

DISCLAIMER

This post contains SPOILERS for ALL of In Stars and Time. INCLUDING THE ACT 6 SECRET!!

You have been warned.

ALSO!!!!

The original headcanon/theory is VERY MUCH Ocean's fantastic work! I am merely rehashing all the arguments for it that have been laid out across various chats into one cohesive thing people can look at. Also citations! Who doesn't love those.

WHAT IS IT?

Well, it's quite simple. It's the theory that Euphrasie, love of my life and Head Housemaiden of Dormont, is from the forgotten island, same as Siffrin and the King.

(Yes, this is why divorce AU exists.)

WHY DO YOU EVEN BELIEVE THIS?

Quite a lot of reasons, actually.

It's really funny

Let us begin with: the basics.

SUPERFLOUS AESTHETIC DETAIL

HAIR COLOR

This is Euphrasie. She's very pretty. I love her.

You might notice several things about her, like her fantabulous white hair.

Well. What other characters have white hair?

You have guessed correctly. The ONLY OTHER white haired characters with actual artwork are Siffrin and the King, both from The Island The World Forgot. Thus we can assume that it's a typical hair color for islanders. Makes it stand out very much that Euphie also has it.

(What about the beautiful one- sh sh sh he's blonde. He's blonde.) (Well, actually, considering that they are the only one who acknowledges that Vaugardians are also weird, what if he's from the island as well? Checkmate atheists.)

EYELASHES

Correct. Eyelashes.

Going back to our portrait of Euphie, she is drawn with precisely three eyelashes. Why is this notable? Because Siffrin and Loop are.

So much so, that being drawn with three eyelashes, is specifically an element of foreshadowing to Loop's true identity.

(squints at character portraits) literally no characters besides Siffrin, Loop, and Euphrasie have eyelashes? Oh my god. What? Nobody has eyelashes? What the fuck? (okay, some moments later: Mirabelle has eyelashes in some battle artwork, but these three are the only ones specifically with eyelashes in dialogue portraits, which is still incredibly odd.)

SPEAKING HABITS

Hey, so, you know when you talk to people in Dormont, a lot of the NPCS will have a nametag that just says "[something] One" right? Daydreaming One, Castle-Loving One, Beautiful One?

And I've seen people wonder, are these titles? Nicknames?

And I bring you this: Siffrin addresses these people with these epithets in his head, because they have no fucking clue what anyone's name is.

So Siffrin just naturally lapses into this style of nicknaming strangers.

Which two other people also do.

Bright one... ...... Do you remember? Traveling one! Are you done talking with your companions? Yes, wonderful, wonderful!

Funny little tidbit that these three characters all speak alike isn't it :)

Okay. With aesthetics out of the way, let's move onto the next tier of this iceberg:

THE MECHANICS OF FORGETTING AND BEING FORGOTTEN

I realize in the process of writing that we must outline the nature of the curse. What gets forgotten and what gets to stay?

The particularity that's important to us right now is: what people get forgotten?

All evidence points toward this: an entire person is only forgotten if they were physically present on the island when it vanished.

I'm pulling up two example cases to prove it: Siffrin and the Daydreaming One.

The thing with Siffrin is: we know he witnessed the exact moment the island vanished. And, very notably, Siffrin was in a boat.

You can get the dialogue that proves this only in ACT 2 in a secret room most people don't find on their first playthroughs, which is both very funny and very evil. Here's the dialogue.

Siffrin: "I ran away from home once!" [...] Siffrin: "And so I took our boat! Got to the beach, rowed away from the shore a bit. I was going to come back right away, I just wanted to scare my parents a bit!" [...]

Siffrin: "I started to row back towards the shore... And then, I... I... ..." Isabeau: ... Sif? Siffrin: (Woah! What?) "Um, yes?" Isabeau: Um... You were telling us how you ran away from home? Siffrin: "I... was?" Odile: You... Were. Bonnie: DID YOU FORGET WHAT YOU WERE TALKING ABOUT WHILE TALKING ABOUT IT?!?

Siffrin is from the island, but was not physically present when it disappeared. This resulted in Siffrin forgetting their entire identity, including given name and spoken/written language.

Additionally, this is confirmed via Word of God to be the exact moment the island disappeared, so here's proof I'm not reading into it:

Shoutout to bibliomaniac's insane google spreadsheet for the easily searchable screenshot. god bless. Brinny, ily.

On the other hand, with the Daydreaming One, we have proof of a person who is not originally from the island, but was physically on it at the time of disappearance.

Siffrin: "Don't you have a sister?" Daydreaming One: I... I don't? I just said I'm an only child, silly!

(For her to forget someone like her sister, so easily... Her sister must've traveled to...)

Secondly, we know that remnants of the island were not completely forgotten immediately.

Memory faded gradually, starting with the ability to still speak and think about it with accompanying headaches, until it ramped up in intensity and everything is simply gone.

The Sparkling Diary in the library is more or less proof. Memory of the island was gone, but... people still remembered that they forgot something. People still knew what they were talking about, (an island north of Vaugarde), just without the specifics.

"Urgh. Also, Dad noticed no one can say the name of the island north of here anymore?" "I tried to say it yesterday and I got like the WEIRDEST headache for HOURS."

And Odile also remarks the following

Odile: We also know that people could remember that country clearly, before.

This will be relevant later. Moving on.

CONTRIVANCES

THE HOUSE'S OBSERVATORY

SO. The House of Change of Dormont has this funny little room on the third floor. It's an observatory. To look at stars with. When entering this room for the first time, Mirabelle says this:

Mirabelle: What...? Was there a room like this in the House? Y-yeah, I remember! Someone was working here... Studying... They looked like... ... Um... Sorry, I can't remember.

This reveals to us several things:

This room is innate to the House, and not brought here by the King's weird redecorating

Someone from the House was using it for study

All memory of who or what was studying and being studied was erased alongside the island's existence

Of course we can say, "yo, what if Euphrasie was using this room and just forgot?" but that is. a headcanon. I ADMIT! It is a stipulation

However, I find the general presence of the Island written all over the House incredibly interesting.

Inside the Observatory, there's a pile of papers with messy handwriting. You can't read these in until ACT 4. Even in ACT 4, you can't read them. But you do learn what's written on them.

(A pile of papers.) (It looks like someone was trying to write your country's name.)

Inside the observatory is also a globe. Upon repeated interaction in... act 4, i think, you get this:

(You see a spot on the globe where the paint has started wearing out, like someone kept dragging their finger on it.) (You drag your finger there too.) (Erased. You almost want to look for lightless paint.)

BOOKS

During the various quests to discover the truth of the loops, you run into a lot of books, written in the forgotten language. Now, Dormont is not close to the island. Dormont is not close to the coast.

Bambouche is. That's why Bonnie has heard about the island before and knows it was a big deal - they lived really close to it.

Bonnie (and then1): I think, I think my village was really close to it!!! My sister said it was all everyone could talk about for weeks!!! Mirabelle (anxious1): That's so frightening... I'm glad that whatever happened, she didn't get caught up in it!

As we can see in this map, Dormont is in the southern half of the country, and very centrally at that, meaning it has basically maximum distance from all waters and ports. So why does this landlocked small town have so many books in this language?

These aren't just dry books, either. In Dormont's library, there's actually a translated version of volume 2 of The Cursing of Chateau Castle.

(You take the book out again.) (You can read its title, now...) (Your heart is beating, badump, badump, badump.) (It's...) (... A translated copy of "The Cursing of Château Castle", issue #2.) (You start laughing.)

CONCLUSION OF THIS SECTION

Islanders lived in Dormont. Maybe even multiple! We've established that whoever is in Dormont when it vanished would not simply disapper, instead

they forgot where they're from.

One day, the islanders in Dormont could no longer remember being anywhere but Dormont. Being anything but Vaugardian. The observatory fell into disuse, as the person studying there gradually forgot what they used it for, even as they desparately tried to hold onto it, boring holes into the globe, and scribbling its name over and over until its unintelligible.

And, in all likelihood, eventually that knowledge was just gone forever. They simply became part of Dormont, none the wiser to their own history.

Books slipped into cracks. Rooms fell into disuse. Nobody remembered to clean out the remnants.

Now. The real cinch of this.

Why, in particular, do I think Euphrasie is one of them?

Answer me this, then.

How does Euphie know what Wish Craft is?

1. How could she read it?

Euphrasie knew specifically that Wish Craft exists, when all books on it are written in a language nobody can read.

The book in the storage room? The diary in the room behind the star door? The book in the secret library? None of them are legible.

There are no legible records of Wish Craft.

2. What about the Favor Tree?

Euphrasie knew specifically that Wish Craft is related to the Favor Tree. It's also a Vaugardian practice to make requests of the Favor Tree, but they're just that - requests. Nobody thinks they actually have power.

Only Euphrasie does. She thinks it's the key to defeating the King.

(This is... A list of people who wished to save Vaugarde!!!) (You look around her desk, trying to find out more.) (Why would she record the people who wished to save Vaugarde?) (... There!!!) (It's a little notebook, jammed between random boring paperwork...) (In it, the Head Housemaiden talks about Wish Craft... How in the days before the King attacked, she noticed everyone was wishing to the Favor Tree for the same thing:) (To save Vaugarde.) (And she started wondering if this wish could be the key to the King's defeat, somehow...) (So the Head Housemaiden knew about Wish Craft!!!)

Except, when Isabeau talks about it...

Isabeau: Well, it's just a random big tree. But when you're a believer of the House of Change, the biggest tree in a certain place is called a Favor Tree! It's like, it’s the tree with the most power, so you can ask it things? As a favor?

He struggles a little to explain it. Almost, as though the tradition came from some other culture, imported into Vaugarde, and no one can definetely remember where it came from.

To note, here, is that the Favor Tree is hugely associated with Loop, and wishes in general. Wishing on a Favor Tree is such a hugely powerful ritual when executed correctly, that it caused the entire timeloops.

And I'm not even gonna break out citations to prove that Wish Craft is associated with the island. Come on. You know that. You played the game. It's required to beat the game.

If you haven't beaten the game, what the fuck are you doing here. Go back and play it, baka.

3. Something's breaking, failing, rotting

At the end of ACT 4, when Siffrin confronts Euphrasie about her knowledge of Wish Craft, Euphrasie is distinctly aware of this: the people of Vaugarde are wishing wrong.

It's true. All of Vaugarde wished to the Favor Tree, wished for us to be saved. We wished for a savior. A way for us to win against the King. And Wish Craft gave us the means to do it, didn't it? Made sure it'd work? [...] But... But something went wrong, didn't it? Something goes wrong, every time!!! [...] The only answer I can find... Is it's because we did it wrong. I don't know what happened But we must've done it wrong!!! None of us in Vaugarde knew the exact ritual, but-- But we must have done it so wrong, it broke, and it doesn't answer to us at all anymore!!! [...] I don't know, I don't know, I don't know!!!

There's only one person who knew how to make a Wish correctly. And he made it by sheer instinct. Something they could not place even if they tried. Just... a forgotten ritual, dredged back up by muscle memory. Something he's probably been doing since he's a little kid, something that's so backed into their habits they use Wish Craft to carve figurines out of wood.

To end, I leave you with this. Dialogue you get when you try to talk to Euphrasie again, before you talked to everybody else.

If you talk to me... REALLY talk to me... It's all over. What "it" is, I have no idea... I know... I can feel that... I couldn't change whatever comes next, even if I wanted to. But I know it is the will of the Change God. Or, no, perhaps... The will of something even bigger... ... Something will end, once you talk to me.

There is a way for Euphrasie to know all of this. To know Wish Craft exists, to be aware she's doing it wrong, but not knowing, remembering quite enough to get it right.

If she knew it all beforehand already.

[armenianwriterman]

RWBY THOUGHT TIME!

God it is so upsetting to see Ruby like this

Also, I know you're having a severe mental breakdown, but how dare you yell at Little like that.

The spotlight on Ruby is a very interesting visual device

IS THAT THE FREAKING ROMAN HOLIDAY VANILLE FAMILY PORTRAIT?!

Talking Roman portrait is definitely not where I expected this episode to go.

Oh my god I theorized there'd be dead character illusions but GOD I didn't think it'd be true.

I like how that little talk with WBY

THAT FUCKING PENNY SPEECH?!?! THAT WAS SO FUCKING RUDE?! LIKE YOU DIDN'T NEED TO DO THAT CRWBY!!!

Oh that Oscar moment was sadistic (probably should've expected that from Neo but still).

NEO I AM GONNA ISEKAI MYSELF INTO THE EVER AFTER TO BEAT YOU UP FOR DOING THIS TO RUBY (and probably lose horribly but still)

I FUCKING KNEW THAT CAT WAS EVIL!!!!

OKAY I ACTUALLY HAD A CRACK THEORY THAT THE BROTHERS MADE THE CAT AND I WAS RIGHT!!!

LITTLE COMING IN CLUTCH AGAINST THE CAT LETS GOOOOO!!!!

THERE IS NO FUCKING WAY THEY JUST FUCKING KILLED LITTLE?!?!?!?!?!

RUBY DRINKING THE POISON RIGHT WHEN THEY ARRIVED?!?!?! WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK IS THIS EPISODE?!?!

DON'T YOU FUCKING DARE TRY TO MAKE ME FEEL SORRY FOR NEO AFTER THAT SHIT!!! I'M SORRY BUT THERE IS NO FUCKING WAY YOU CAN MAKE ME DO THAT ESPECIALLY NOT IN THE SAME EPISODE.

JESUS CHRIST THE CAT POSSESSING NEO WAS ACTUALLY HORRIFYING

WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS SHOW?!

[ashenberry]

GENERAL DGS2-3 SPOILERS TRED LIGHTLY

[ID: A collection of ms paint doodles featuring characters from the great ace attorney.

Image 1: Ryuu and Van Zieks are playing chess. There is a note pointing towards Van Zieks that reads, "doesnt know how hes losing to this chicken mcnobody" and a note pointing towards ryuu that reads, "honestly just cracked at chess"

Image 2: Ryuu and Iris, who is in her purple outfit, are looking at a portrait on the wall featuring Reigen Arataka from mob psycho 100. Iris comments, "damn this bitch ugly" to which ryuu follows up with "fr" Van zieks is seen below the portrait, furious.

Image 3: Ryuu and Iris are wide eyed looking down. Iris says, "oh my god he definitely murdered a guy" there is a note pointing towards ryuu and iris that says, "looking at a wine bottle" Van Zieks is standing behind them, unamused, with a note that reads, "literally standing right there"

Image 4: Sholmes giving a thumbs up saying ,"gregson would be a real hit in the gay community"

Image 5: A screenshot of Reigen Arataka from mob psycho 100 sitting politely with sholmes clothes drawn over him

Image 6: ryuu saying "HI SLUT" to the previously described image

Image 7: Iris gestures towards sholmes, who has both hands on his hips but looks worried, and says, "HEY RUNO WANNA SEE HOW HARD I CAN KICK THIS SHOLMES STATUE IN THE NUTS" there is a note pointing towards iris that says 'knowingly'

Image 8: Ryuu and Iris standing next to eachother making :3 faces

Image 9: Ryuu yells at sholmes, "STOP KINNING OUR MURDERER" while sholmes thinks of the strangler from spongebob

Image 10: Susato looks to the side and says, "I wonder where mr sholmes is" Sholmes is dancing in the background with a note that says, "breaking it down, as ne put it, "sexual style"

Image 11: Ryuu points ahead of him jaw dropped and says "IS THAT THE GRIM REAPER" Susato looks worriedly over and says, "we knew he was gonna be here???" in the upper right is a cut of doodle of bear ryuu and susato with the word "diggus" under it

Image 12: Ryuu dancing with the text, "lets dance mr slut"

Image 13: Susato dancing with the text "fuck it im gonna do my hail marry theory"

Image 14: Ryuu pointing towards a jpeg of Enoch drebber with the text "ok and? above. Ryuu says, "YES ITS OUTLANDISH BUT YOU KNOW WHO THE VICTIM IS AND ALSO LLOOK AT THEIR HAIR"

Image 15: The judge thinking, "damn these beasts loud!" with the jurors below

Image 16: Sholmes, crying, says, "none of you appreciate my catholic humor >:'("

Image 17: Sholmes is dumping a bucking with the word bleach on it and says, "i love bleaching the sea" gregson is running towards him from behind yelling "THATS HE THAMES U-" the rest is cut off but enough remains to tell it says "SON OF A BITCH"

end ID]

figured id post my dgs doodles from jeffs lets play

[not-wholly-unheroic]

Do you ever wonder if Disney's hook has mommy issues? I mean hook went his whole life thinking his mom wouldn't be proud of him unless he was an epic pirate treasure hunter until his mom clarified she would've been proud not matter what he did. At least that's what I got from the Jake and the neverland pirates section of hooks wiki. Its a bit sus if ya ask me. (Im not saying mama hook is evil btw)

Oh, Hook absolutely has mommy issues. (So does Peter, for that matter.) Many versions of Hook touch on this at one point or another. For example, in the novel, when Hook is explaining to Smee what a mother is using the Neverbird and her eggs as an example, he seems on the verge of breaking. You get the impression that his voice is probably cracking as he speaks and there is a deep sadness there. Maybe he didn’t have much in the way of a mother figure. Maybe his mother wasn’t a good one. Or maybe she was great and he is mourning the fact that she isn’t alive anymore. We don’t know and Barrie never tells us. But there’s definitely something there. Especially given that the pirates seem to want to make Wendy their mother almost as much as the Lost Boys do. In Fox’s Peter Pan and the Pirates we learn that that version of Hook has a portrait of his mother (who he seems to care for very much) in his cabin. However, it remains covered at all times because apparently she’s very unattractive. (The audience never sees what exactly she looks like, but other characters react with gasps.) Hook is incredibly defensive of his mother’s portrait and she seems to be one of very few things that can bring out a moment of softness in him.

In all likelihood, Hook and Pan both have mommy issues because Barrie himself had some mommy issues. When his brother David passed away as a child due to an ice-skating accident, Barrie’s mother mourned him deeply to the point where Barrie would dress up in his brother’s clothes and pretend to BE his brother just to see his mother smile. Barrie himself wasn’t enough to rouse her from her depression. He had to take on his brother’s persona.

Disney’s Hook—particularly the Jake-verse which explores Hook’s personality pretty well for a kids’ show—seems to have some serious self-esteem issues and comes off as bully to make up for the fact that he feels far less confident than he actually is. Perhaps one might speculate he underwent something like Barrie did as a child and felt like he couldn’t live up to the perfect vision his mother had of another child who passed away. Mama Hook in the series seems to be a good person but a bit overbearing. That might have something to do with his self-esteem issues as well. Personally, I have a theory that Hook is very attached to his mother because he did NOT have a good relationship with his father (who we never meet). It is well known in psychology that experiencing long-term abuse as a child can severely impede one’s emotional development…and while I love Hook, there’s no denying that he can be emotionally very childish sometimes. Additionally, an absent parent can lead to abandonment issues, while a parent who is emotionally closed off and rarely offers praise or approval can lead to a child who feels they have to hide “weakness” and their anxiety comes off as anger and/or people pleasing. Hook, in my opinion, fits the bill for a lot of this…and it would explain why he’s so drawn to Smee as a sort of replacement for the father-figure in his life.

So yeah, Hook just has family issues in general. Poor guy needs a lifetime of therapy.

[yourlocalmaraudersbabe]

Hiya! May I request a sirius x reader imagine where the marauders are all hanging out by the black lake. James or remus (probably James tbh) pranks the reader by throwing them in the black lake. What he didn't know is that they are scared of deep dark waters and almost drown and sirius saves them? Fluffy fluffy ending please?

I hope you have a good day!~

💜

“You’re right, nobody can be as lovely as me”

Summary: James thinks it’s funny to throw you in the water and Sirius is there to pull you out

A/N: omg look who decided to post :=)

Warnings: drowning/not be able to swim and there's like one swear word

Word Count: 1401

Masterlist + Characters and ships I write for

Requests are always open <3

Fluff Dialogue Prompt List

Join my taglist here!

“Please enjoy your dinner and relax this evening!”

You sat with your friends, directly next to Sirius while Dumbledore’s voice boomed through the Great Hall, food appearing down the table in front of you.

There were only a couple days left of your sixth year at Hogwarts, the summer holiday so close you could reach out and grab it.

“So what are we doing after dinner?” James asked.

You grabbed a spoonful of mashed potatoes, starting to make a plate of food for yourself. “How about we hang out by the lake?”

James quickly swapped his plate for yours, leaving you to give him a lovely middle finger.

“Prongs,” Sirius chastised as you laughed. You laid a head on his shoulder, telling him it was harmless.

Your boyfriend pushed his own plate over in front of you, urging you to sit up and eat.

James shrugged his shoulders, promptly digging into the wonderful food in front of him.

“Y/n,” Lily started. “I really like that idea. We can all go—”

“But y/n never swims,” Peter cut her off, nearly whining.

“Yeah, it’s not fun without you,” James added. “Why can’t you just go in for even a little bit?”

You glared at the two of them. “Absolutely not.”

Sirius grabbed your hand under the table, squeezing it before placing a kiss to the top of your head. “You better not have just gotten crumbs in my hair,” you whispered, shoving his shoulder.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You stepped outside, hand in hand with Sirius as the warm glow of the sun setting lay a blanket on the world around you. Your friends had already made their way out here, the only reason you two are arriving now is because of the boy next to you.

“C’mon, I need to go back to my dorm. I wanna bring a towel in case I decide to go in.”

“Well do you want to swim or not?” you asked.

“I haven’t decided yet,” he laughed.

“You are the most indecisive person I know, Sirius,” you took his hand, following him up to Gryffindor tower.

“Am not.”

“You are,” you laughed. “Well I’m deciding to lay out, maybe read a book. I’ve also decided that I’m stealing a blanket.”

“Hey, stop rubbing your decision making skills in.”

“Oh, and I’ve decided I’m stealing a jumper.”

He gave a dramatic frown.

You gave a quick kiss on the side of his cheek as he stepped through the portrait hole.

“Well can I at least pick which jumper you steal?”

“Hmm, I don’t know if you’d be able to decide which one.”

You spotted your friends and they waved, casting you smiles from the lake.

Sirius dropped your hand, skipping a couple steps to be in front of you, walking backwards.

“I have a question for you, y/n.”

“Ask away,” you sighed, a smile curling at the corners of your mouth.

“Be honest. Would you still give me a hug if I were to have just gotten out of the water? A kiss perhaps?”

You burst out laughing. “No. No way. Not when I’m perfectly dry.”

“Well maybe we’ll have to test out that theory.”

You deadpanned. “You’re hilarious.”

“I am, aren’t I?”

You spread out your blanket, lying down and soaking in what the sun had to offer before setting completely.

Sirius made his way to the water before the light had disappeared entirely. You closed your eyes, enjoying some much needed rest.

You didn’t know how long you’d been asleep for, and it didn’t really matter now. All you knew that you were hovering over the lake. You had to be dreaming.

You couldn’t tell how high up you were, you were barely able to make out the silhouettes of your friends.

“Ha-ha, very funny!” you called out. “You can put me down now.”

James’s voice echoed up to you. “What? You don’t want to come in for a little swim with us?”

You looked down and saw his little grasp on his wand as he controlled how far you were from falling.

“James, please put me down on the grass.”

You could hear it in his voice. You could hear how he expected this to just be a harmless little prank of his.

“But it will be much funnier if you plop into the water. Just a small plink.”

He didn’t even give you time to respond before you were plummeting into the lake. Your friends were further away than they seemed to be. James had thrown his head back in laughter, ignoring you. Ignoring how fear took over your body, making it nearly unbearable to relax and just float. It was hard to breathe, you could barely even cough as you struggled to stay above water.

“James? What the fuck?” Sirius was at your side in a matter of moments, his arms wrapped around you as you clung onto him for dear life. You had gotten yourself into a coughing fit, as soon as you were steady afloat. You didn’t know if the tears streaming down your face were from embarrassment or genuine fear.

“I feel pathetic,” you finally whispered to Sirius as he swam to the grass.

“Everyone has something that gets to them like this. James didn’t know,” he whispered back while he lifted you out of the water, pulling himself up after. “Are you alright? Can you breathe okay? Do you need to see Madam Pomfrey?”

You sat up, wiping at the tears from in your eyes, your hands moving to fumble with the grass blades in front of you. “I think I’m alright.”

Sirius called for a towel with a near perfect wordless spell. He caught it before it flew right into the back of your head, wrapping it around your body snuggly. He ran his fingers over your face, wiping away the droplets of water, pushing your hair back out of the way. “I’m really sorry about all this, y/n,” he said. “I wish I would’ve seen what was happening.”

The overwhelming feeling had pooled tears in your eyes. You slouched down, leaning into his side. “No, it’s alright. It’s not your fault,” you choked out a laugh, wiping under your eyes.

He took your hand, curling his fingers around yours, rubbing gently against the top. “Want me to go get James? Rough him up a bit?”

A smile crept upon your face. “No, it’s alright.”

A genuine laugh bubbled up in your throat. He hugged you tight, speaking quietly. “How about we go back up to my dorm? Get settled in some warm clothes?”

“I like that idea,” you said. “But only if you carry me.”

And that’s exactly what Sirius did. He carried you all the way up to his dorm, letting you change into dry clothes and slip under the covers first.

He didn’t take long himself, turning the bathroom light off as he made his way over to you. He pulled back the blanket atop of you for a brief moment before laying down and pulling you up against his chest with one swift movement of his arm. You turned your head upwards, opening your mouth to talk, yet failing to produce any words. Your voice cracked, tears appearing once more.

Sirius rolled you over, brushing the hair out of your face and wiping away the tears as they spilled over, muttering soft notes of reassurance. “You’re okay now, y/n.”

“It was really scary,” you whispered, the lump in your throat aching as you spoke.

“I know, darling. But look where you are,” he smiled, kissing your forehead sweetly. “Let’s focus on the present: you’re in bed with me, you’re in comfortable clothing, and you have a blanket to keep you warm and safe.” He tucked the material closer up under your neck.

“I’m right here. Nothing like that is going to happen again,” he trailed off. “I’m here to hold you, darling.”

“Thank you.”

He kissed your nose and wiped away the last of the tears. You turned over once again, tucking yourself in his arms.

It was quiet for a mere moment.

“Hey, you’re sure you don’t want to get back at James? I could make a wonderful polyjuice potion over the summer. James would make for a lovely black dog I know of.”

You contemplated. “I don’t think James could pull off being that lovely.”

“You’re right, nobody can be as lovely as me.”

Sirius Black Taglist(if your name is crossed out I couldn’t tag you :( and send me an ask if you’d like to be removed): @violetrainbow412-blog @wisedreamcatcher @scorpiobaby22 @emmaev @harrypotter0addict @siriusbarnesslut @talksoprettyjjx @onyourgoddamnleft @ilovejamespotter @florqlness @l1lli @confuscita @niceandspicy @emmysworld @i-do-random-things-do-not-ask @daedreamss

[minart-was-taken]

Sort of continuation of this, but it also does stand on it’s own!

Title: A small problem Characters: Ravio, Wind, Minish and Legend Includes threats of violence “Tags:” First meetings - No-one is sure what they’re doing but that’s ok - Zelda shows up!

Enjoy!

Ravio was speechless, a little scared, but most powerfully: mesmerized. Two kids, clearly younger than him and both with bright blond locks that rivaled the sun, were engaged in combat.

Although fists were flying, neither had landed a single hit. When the older one, who he had dubbed Mr. Sailor, threw a hit, the younger one, Mr. Small, would live up to his nickname and shrink to a very small size.

He’d then unshrink, throw a hit himself, and miss as the other pulled quite the leap to get away.

Ravio was simply waiting for one of them to land a hit, and for the situation to escalate badly, as he was too afraid to intervene.

Another crack followed then, they were starting to give Ravio a headache.

From it appeared a pink haired boy, tallest of the people present. He blinked in surprise, glancing around.

His appearance seemed to distract the coat wearing boy, who ended up getting decked in the face and fell over shouting “SHIT!” very loudly.

“Oh my.” Signed the newest arrival, looking at the situation before him with wide eyes. “Am I interrupting something?”

“I’m glad you are.” Ravio responded, walking over to the seemingly sane one, although staying from stabbing range just in case. “I’ve been trying to get these two to stop fighting for ages!”

“No you haven’t!” Grumbled the kid slowly getting himself back from the ground, while the smaller one stood smugly nearby.

“Do I look like someone who could stop a fist fight with force?” Ravio pointed out. “Neither of you listened to reason, so I simply was waiting for an opening.”

“An opening for what?”

He hadn’t had a proper plan. “Why would I tell that? You might fight again and I don’t want you to know what to expect.” However they did not have to know about that.

“Why were they fighting?” the pink one asked.

“He started it.” Coat boy complained.

“Ah. Uhm.” Ravio scratched the back of his head: “From what I could tell, I was simply talking to Mr. Sailor here, then the small one appeared from the bushes and kicked him in the back of the knee.”

“But why?”

“I’m not quite sure.” Ravio confessed.

The stranger tilted his head, confused, before turning to look at the small smug one. “Could you tell us now?”

The very small one scoffed, but signaled for them to follow.

They were in the yard of a small house, and near the window was a little patch of what looked more like weeds than anything else. The kid pointed at one of the weeds that had been very slightly stood upon.

The pink haired one understood, his fist meeting his palm in understanding. “It’s not nice to trample on other people’s plants, Mr. Sailor.”

Coat boy crossed his arms. “I didn’t do it on purpose. I just appeared right there! I would’ve moved if I knew I was standing on a plant.”

“It’s just a big misunderstanding then.” The pink one nodded, kneeling down to be the smallest one’s height. “Next time try to tell him to move before kicking him, okay?”

Mr. Small looked unimpressed, but nodded.

Ravio was just confused as to why anyone would care about such an useless patch of plants. The only valuable thing lost here was a possible alliance between the two small ones.

Kids, oh so dumb. Ravio smiled to himself.

“When you said you appeared-” the Pink one spoke again, standing up and turning to the sailor. “Was it like how I did?”

Mr. Sailor nodded. “Yeah. One moment I was just hammering some nails and suddenly I’m here. Being kicked in the back of my knee. By the smallest bokoblin I’ve ever seen.”

The small one raised a fist, but the pink one grabbed it mid air, and held it still. The small one seemed shocked that someone could- Or more likely- Would try and stop him.

“Oh sorry, I meant rat.” Said the sailor, sticking his tongue out.

“Please stop antagonizing the small child with a sword.” Ravio said in a hushed voice.

The small one was too entranced by having been stopped to care, simply staring at the pink one with wide eyes.

“Huh. What a strange situation.” The pink one continued, ignoring the general chaos. “Well, I suppose if we’re all in it, we should get to know one another. My name is Link. Spelt L-I-N-K”

The smallest one pointed at himself, all the while Mr. Sailor gasped: “Wait- That’s my name too.”

Ravio felt himself tense up a bit, what he had been suspecting was indeed going on, wasn’t it?

The house that looked eerily like the one Link lived in, then there was the clear fact he was in Hyrule, and that there were people who looked eerily like Link but weren’t him…

Oh great goddess of lorule, take him back home please. This is not ideal.

“Hm…” The pink one pondered. “This seems like it’d mean something significant.”

You think? Ravio raised a brow, before shaking off the questioning look to smile politely like a good salesman. “Link isn’t the most common name, so I have to agree.”

He walked closer to the pink one, mostly certain he wouldn’t stab him. With a hand on his back, he continued. “The only Link I know of is the legendary hero of hyrule! It’d be ridiculous for him to be here, though, wouldn’t it?”

“I am he.” Mr. Sailor said.

The tall one blinked at that. “But.. So am I?”

The smallest one dug through his pockets, and pulled out a small note, handing it to Ravio.

Ravio read it out loud to everyone: “Link is the hero of Hyrule, and is allowed to do what he sees fit in order to keep the country safe. Signed, Princess Zelda.”

“...We can’t all be heroes of Hyrule.” Mr. Sailor complained. “And I know for one that I’m not lying, so.”

“There isn’t just one, though.” Ravio spoke up. “Legends speak of a hero in green who appeared centuries ago, perhaps he too had someone before him, and there was someone after.”

“Centuries, though.” Mr. Sailor pointed out, “Do I look a hundred years old to you?”

The smallest one nodded, but Ravio shook his head.

“I’ve heard of stranger things than time travel, in these lands.” Ravio stated.

“I suppose it is a plausible theory.” The pink one pondered, hand on chin. “I know I’m not lying either.”

“And the small one has a letter from the princess.”

“It could be forged.” The sailor pointed out.

Ravio wanted to point out he could tell a forgery from the real thing pretty easily, and had seen enough of Hilda’s writing to know how the royal family conducts it’s deeds. However, that’d make him seem kind of suspicious. “We could go and find out?” Ravio decided to ask instead.

“How?”

“This is clearly the small one’s home, if these are his plants. So this is his Hyrule.” Ravio explained. “Let’s go to the castle, and if the kid is allowed in, it means it’s not forged.”

“I suppose that’s a fair plan.” The pink replied. “And since neither of us are apparently lying, if the letter is real, then- Er, what’s your name?”

“I’m Ravio.” He responded, “The greatest merchant around.”

“Okay- It’s nice to meet you.” The pink one smiled. “Then if all of us are Link like we claim, Ravio’s theory was right.”

“Or some form of it.” Ravio specified.

The pink one nodded. “Very well, little one, could you take us to the castle?”

The smallest one pouted, but began leading the way.

“Holy fuck!” The sailor gasped, looking at the castle once it appeared in the horizon, standing tall yet- A little smaller than Ravio had expected.

The smallest one grinned smugly, walking at a pace more akin to jogging to stay in front of the taller people.

“It’s quite small.” The pink one commented.

“I do agree.” Ravio nodded. “The one I’ve seen is certainly larger.”

“It looks funny.” The pink one smiled, maybe even a little smug.

Ravio took note of it, but did not comment on it.

“So.” The pink one continued. “Your name is Ravio?”

“Like I said, yes.” He nodded. “Are you interested in my wares? I don’t have much on me due to the sudden departure but-”

“Not Link.” He stopped Ravio. “Yet you look a tad like us.”

Ravio blinked, breathing hitched. He missed his hood, but he had been in lorule- He doesn’t need that in Lorule! In Lorule he’s one of a kind!

“I suppose destiny can have a bit of a slip up here and there?” Ravio suggested. Sorry Link, he’d have to steal your identity for a bit here. “I assure you, however, just because I cannot wield a blade does not make me completely useless.”

The pink one simply kept smiling. “Very well, then.”

He hadn’t bought it, had he? Ravio yelled internally, but tried to keep the relaxed facade up.

The castle town was very cute, the sailor looking around with wide eyes, looking like he was taking many internal notes.

What caught Ravio’s eye however, happened a bit later. The smallest showed the letter to a guard by the castle gates, the guard simply sighed, said: “Follow me,” and started walking further into the castle grounds.

“That’s a lot to process.” The pink one spoke again. Ravio had to agree.

They were led to a room to wait- A waiting room, you could say- For the princess to get ready for guests. It matched all the Hyrule castles Ravio had seen, that being one. Stone brick all about, a polished but a little cold interior, with the triforce ever present in all decor.

There were paintings present as well. They seemed to capture the curiosity of all visitors, much to the delight of the smallest one’s ego.

Ravio focused at first on one depicting the princess, she looked similar to the Zelda of the Hyrule he knew, but clearly another person entirely.

He then chose to take a look at the others in their impromptu party, and found the pink one standing under a portrait of  what was likely another hero of courage, this one standing tall with a flowing white cape, and a small red bird on his shoulder.

The sight awakened a memory in Ravio, and he found himself suddenly plunged into a mystery.

There was a mural in his Link’s hyrule castle, one depicting the hero prior to him. Zelda had joked to him and Hilda about how she had read the hero actually had pink hair, but the artists took creative liberties and made it dark blond instead.

This couldn’t be the man who sealed Ganon away, was it? Certainly there had been more than one pink haired Link.

Then again, they seemed to be in a situation which included traveling through space and time. Guess that might as well be a detail.

A guard soon showed up, expressing that the princess was ready.

They headed to the throne room. It was bold, large and voices echoed within it. The large windows made it feel slightly less like a scary space, but it did still make him grow a bit uneasy.

In Front of the aforementioned throne, stood the princess, with a bright but curious smile.

“Link, I didn’t know you had made friends!”

The small one tried to hide in his cape, but was unsuccessful.

“It’s very nice to meet you all.” Zelda smiled brightly, as the boys bowed. Ravio hadn’t been sure if that was to be expected, but the smallest one did have a blade and seemed to be satisfied with them bowing, so perhaps it was a good choice.

The pink one took charge soon after, explaining the predicament they found themselves in. Or at least, theorized they did.

“Oh my.” Zelda gasped. “The hero’s spirit will reincarnate this much?! That’s quite saddening.”

“Has the legend of the hero not existed for long here?” The pink one asked.

“We only know of one before Link here.” Zelda explained. “The hero who arrived from the skies to seal away the great evil, so that humanity could return to the lands below.” She said, clearly quoting something.

“...I guess the seal didn’t last.” Zelda added sadly.

The small one rushed over to her, and offered his hand to her. She took hold of it, and smiled with thankfulness in her eyes at the kid.

“Well, if any of you are like Link here, Hyrule is in good hands.” She smiled again. “I wish I could help more though. I’m not sure at all what could be going on, or what to do about it.”

“Do you have time travel items, or something? Getting home would be nice.” The sailor asked.

“I can ask for research on the topic to be conducted.” Zelda nodded. “Until then, you may stay at the castle, if you’d like.”

“Thank you very much, your highness.” The pink- Okay, he needed a nickname, Ravio decided. Whether he was the legendary hero or not, calling him Mr. Legend should help butter the guy up for possible sales, anyway.

With that, they were led to a guest room. Ravio was both deeply glad they hadn’t been paired up, as every pairing seemed like a bad idea, but was also absolutely terrified of sharing a room with three swordsmen he barely knew. They were also given instructions on how to get to both the castle library and the town’s library. Information which Ravio decided to make use of the next day.

It was fine really, and the beds were very comfortable! It seemed the spirit of the hero made them all sleepy as hell, as well. So getting stabbed seemed unlikely. However one thing still kept Ravio up that night.

“Bunnies, dark hair…” Mr. Legend had signed to him, when it was just the two of them, the sun having started to settle for the night “It reminds me of a place.”

“Oh, heh. A place, huh?” Ravio chuckled nervously. He didn’t like being put on the spot without a plan.

“It was a dreadful place.” Mr. Legend stated. “I hope you’re not related to it in some way.”

“I sure hope so too?” Ravio stumbled to find the words:“It sounds much worse than Hyrule. Love this place, the grass is very green. Smells great.”

“I hope so too.” Mr. Legend smiled, a strange dead look in his eyes. “I don’t want to take another life.”

Then he just started talking about how he liked apples.

So, it would’ve been stranger if Ravio wasn’t having trouble sleeping!

Oh, goddesses above, help him.

[spocksgotemotions]

I posted 1,130 times in 2021

98 posts created (9%)

1032 posts reblogged (91%)

For every post I created, I reblogged 10.5 posts.

I added 624 tags in 2021

#fanart - 314 posts

#my stuff - 114 posts

#star wars - 76 posts

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#star trek - 16 posts

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Longest Tag: 139 characters

#i’m writing a play about ibsen and strindberg (two rival playwrights who hated each other so much they kept each other’s portraits in their

My Top Posts in 2021

#5

listen listen in theory I know dinluke is a crack ship. I get it, so far in cannon they’ve interacted for a total of five seconds, but but but!!!

there is So Much potential here. Like the first thing that drew me to them as a couple? Grogu gets two dads and they both raise him together. Adorable, perfect already.

and that doesn’t even take into account everything else about them!!! The parallels with the “last” Jedi falling in love with someone from a group that’s dying out. The fact that Jedi and Mandalorians used to be enemies (a nice little Romeo and Juliet thing goin there). The fact that Din is trying to run away from being a main character, when he runs into Luke fuckin Skywalker, main character of the main characters (who gladly sought the role of it). The fact that due to their cultures, neither of them really expect a relationship.

And lastly theres the fact that if there was any chance of this actually happening: Disney’s 30th “first gay character” would be Luke fucking Skywalker. The power of that oh my god

103 notes • Posted 2021-05-29 16:36:51 GMT

#4

“I could fix him” “I could make him worse” well I could show up in Chanel boots to steal the little green child he adopted so I can raise it in the fashion of a nearly dead religion

160 notes • Posted 2021-05-20 20:29:23 GMT

#3

Requiem for Methuselah STILL fucks me up jsyk

172 notes • Posted 2021-03-03 05:02:23 GMT

#2

listen. I just think Luke Skywalker deserves a dilf. Is that really such a hot take?

203 notes • Posted 2021-07-03 02:16:59 GMT

#1

today I learned that the original animated series is on Internet archive for free! Go watch it!

244 notes • Posted 2021-09-11 02:38:59 GMT

Get your Tumblr 2021 Year in Review →

[the-cat-at-the-theatre-door]

So uh who are some of YOUR canon adjacent ocs 👀

Oh, moi? Don’t mind if I do - I’m going to talk about Old Deuteronomy’s parents. All three of them. 

(I unfortunately don’t have any drawings to go along with them so I automatically deduct fifty points from my character card score - perhaps someday...)

(I’m also going to borrow @theimpossiblescheme ‘s brilliant idea of assigning voices to them as well)

Augustus (Funnily enough, he never went by Gus)

Imposing, Spirited, Jovial

Sounds a little like: Rodrick Dixon

-The previous Tribe leader, and father of Old Deuteronomy. Deuteronomy remembers him as a friendly and jovial cat, but with the tendency to be distant and preoccupied at any given opportunity. Sometimes he seemed to be living in a world all his own, and it was difficult to reach him. 

-Always looked forward to when it was his turn in rotation to teach the kitten dance troupes - he used to be a fine dancer when he was young, loved showing off,  and resented having to slow down as he got older and his joints started locking up. He personally taught Gus to dance as a thank you to Seraphina for taking care of his son.

-As much of a dancing show off he could be, he was oddly shy to sing solo and preferred singing with his brothers, Mordecai and Azrael (though that’s not much to complain about - they sounded *very* good together. Their ability to randomly harmonize with one another was unparalelled. The three of them performed together pretty often until Azrael left the Tribe to go off on his own).

-Had some rather strange tendencies throughout his life - sometimes his voice would change half way through a story, or he’d sit in a full rain shower, squinting up into the clouds. He often complained of migraines, and suffered with them most of his life. The running theory behind this was that he had been given shades of telepathic ability, but was unable to ever fully grasp the threads he was provided, no matter how hard he tried. It was essentially creating cracks in his spirit that he had no way to mend.

-Met Adularia at a seashore flea market. She was sitting alongside one of the shop owners, who sold hand woven baskets to sailors. He wasn’t her owner, but thought it good luck that he found her curled in one of the baskets after lifting its lid, and would give her pieces of his lunch when she came around (this was a good enough arrangement for her).

He was immediately smitten with her, and so determined to talk to her that he was willing to be smacked with a broom *twice* when the shop owner tried to chase him off. She was two years older than he was. She laughed at his terrible jokes and thought his persistence was charming. He invited her to the Junkyard and they were mated a year later. Deuteronomy was his only child. He was never quite the same after she died.

-Living “many lives in succession” is definitely a pass-down trait in their familial line. Augustus’ soul lived seven and a half consecutive lives previously before passing away (there was an accident with a cart - Augustus had been a very independent tom until the end, and was still insisting on walking to the Junkyard himself for the Jellicle Ball). 

Adularia 

Kindly, Anxious, Wry

Sounds a little like: Gina Breedlove

-Deuteronomy’s biological mother, and mate of Augustus.

-She and Seraphina had been best friends since they were kittens, and did practically everything together. They joined the Jellicles together, had their first Ball together, they even went through their first pregnancies together. Augustus accepted early on that the two queens came as a set (good thing he got on well enough with Sera as well).

-Was a razor sharp checkers player - it was near impossible to beat her. 

-Though it never really got her anywhere, she was an extremely talented painter. She often painted rocks, and produced several dozen portraits of her Tribe family before she died. 

-She had ridiculous amounts of patience and was prone to out of the box ideas - why is this a bad combo? Because she never gave up on something when she put her mind to it, even when it was a waste of time. She committed herself fully until it was realized or she ran herself into the ground - no in-between.

-Adored her son even if she didn’t get to see him much - she had always loved kittens and wanted one of her own, but fate wasn’t really on her side for that one. 

-Was never in the best health, and it only got worse as she got older. Her mobility was severely limited, she wasn’t able to nurse her son, and she left her den less and less after he was born. She passed away before Deuteronomy’s second birthday. 

Seraphina

Respectable, Independent, Frank

Sounds a little like: Harolyn Blackwell

-Called “Sera” by her close friends, but was a very big proponent of referring to cats by their full given names (Ironic that her son is Gus then - that was not at all lost on her)

-When she wasn’t in the Junkyard, she spent most of her time in the dressing rooms and rafters of the Royal Opera House.

-Biological mother of Asparagus (Gus) the Theatre Cat - Gus’ father (Ramiro) was the one and done type, leaving her shortly after he got what he wanted. She never regretted having her son, but she absolutely regretted allowing herself to get swept up by a tom like that. (Adularia, never a violent queen, mentioned more than once that if hindsight were 20/20, she would have strangled him the moment he crossed the Junkyard threshold).

-Became Deuteronomy’s wet nurse soon after he was born, as Adularia was incapable of feeding him due to her failing health.  Appointed herself as Adularia’s caretaker when Emmeline was absent. She brought Deuteronomy to see her several times a week, and would leave them alone for an hour or two so they could bond.

-Would only ever drink when a kitten was born in the Tribe - had a crisis the evening that Yaomana,  Ramadia, and Piccolina all had their kittens on the same night (and a massive hangover the next day).

-Had the tendency to be extremely blunt if necessary; if you want the cold hard truth you ask Seraphina. Ask Adularia if you want some padding around it.

-Dislikes dogs immensely. She doesn’t like them anywhere near her. Ironically, this was the inspiration of “The Pekes and the Pollicles”.

-You wouldn’t really think so since she was generally a very proper and no-nonsense queen, but Sera quickly established her place in the tribe as its storyteller. She was incredibly imaginative and good with a turn of phrase, and would often translate/adapt the Operas she heard into something tangible to cats. She would have been an excellent libretto writer herself, should that have suited her fancy. 

-When Adularia passed on, she immediately volunteered to adopt Deuteronomy and assist Augustus in taking care of him. Deuteronomy was very young when she passed on, and while he *knows* that Sera isn’t his biological mother (Sera would talk of Adularia often, ensuring she lived on in her son’s memory even if he didn’t get the chance to know her), she’s the closest thing he can place to one. He’d call her “Mama Sera” as a young kitten and Adularia “Mama Addi”, and then “Seraphina” as he got older.

[toloveawarlord]

Ch. 2

Characters: Elaine, Arthur x Theo, Vincent

Pairing: Elaine x Isaac (eventually)

Tagging: @plumpblueberry​ @lady-moonbroch​

A/N: This chapter turned out nothing like the first draft XD Enjoy some Elaine spending time with her Uncle and she meets a boy!

Four days into her new job as Theo’s assistant, the mood in their home had drastically lifted. Elaine never complained and paid close attention to every task given to her, exceeding all expectations. She quoted things he’d said to her years ago and questioned smartly, craving the knowledge he had. Having her along had proved quite useful with prickly clients, smoothing over situations with a charming smile and sweet words, likely emulating Arthur. 

Theo enjoyed having time with her. In recent years, they’d grown strained. The teenager wanted more freedom and broke rules in place to protect her because she believed them unnecessary. Now, at nearly eighteen in only two days, she’d fought harder. Being able to keep an eye on her put the art dealer at little more at ease.

His daughter sat across from him, glancing at him out of the corner of her vision. Elaine hadn’t taken the news that she couldn’t accompany him today well. Instead of anger, she’d pouted silently all morning.

“I take it that you aren’t happy with today’s agenda,” Arthur piped up with an amused grin not quite hidden by his cup of steaming coffee. The previous night Theo had informed him of the impending unhappy teenager.

Elaine stuffed the fork full of pancakes into her mouth, enough to make her cheeks puff out to match her frown. She’d gotten up extra early and made pancakes and extra sweet coffee, but the answer remained unchanged. Now, she wanted to drown her sorrows in syrup and butter until she got sick.

“Vincent has asked for you to help him today while I’m gone.” Theo could easily see the motive behind his brother’s sudden request. He’d promised to make her do some work instead of spoiling her the entire day.

The teenager flinched at those words. She couldn’t very well turn down her uncle, as she adored him so much. Help isn’t the word she’d choose to describe what the day would entail. He’d likely ask her to do a small task or two, nothing that required much effort. “Fine. I guess I can do that.”

Working didn’t bother her. She assisted around the house with the chores without complaint. If Comte asked, she would readily agree. It irritated her that this client wouldn’t allow her entrance to his home, prompting this sour mood. No promises of being quiet or staying outside had swayed Theo. He couldn’t risk spooking the man.

“If you find yourself in need of something to do, I can have you proofread for me.” Her grimace only made the mystery writer chuckle again. Her disdain for that job well-known. Though she enjoyed his stories, playing editor didn’t appeal to her. A tedious thing.

Theo cracked a grin, rising from the table. “You better thank Vincent for saving you from that.” One check of his watch ended the conversation. He bid his family farewell before heading into town alone.

“Are you sure you don’t want to help your Papa with his work?” Arthur teased further. He had been a tad jealous that she eagerly wanted to assist Theo over the course of the week. Ah, but he was also grateful that the two were more understanding of each other.

Elaine stacked all the empty plates to carry them to the kitchen. “I love you but no.” Her curt reply still amusing. Setting the dishes in the sink, she licked the sticky syrup off her fingers.

“Off you go then. I’ll take care of the cleanup.”

The young vampire didn’t need to be told twice. Housework didn’t appeal to her either. She did her part, pitching in when needed, but if told she didn’t have to do it... the teenager bailed as quickly as she could.

Inside the mansion, the hallways were quiet and empty.  At this hour, everyone should be awake, except for Leonardo perhaps. Rapping her fist against Vincent’s door, she cast confused glances down the hallway.

“Goede morgen, Elaine,” Vincent greeted with a bright smile. He laughed softly at her confusion. Since Arthur and Theo had moved out of the mansion with her when she was only 4 years old, daily happenings didn’t reach their house as quickly as it spread through the mansion. “We’re the only ones here today.”

“I’m okay with that.” She flashed a disheartened smile, unable to shake the dark cloud hanging over her. Her normally mischievous and lively attitude disappeared. The others might have tried to make her understand. She understood perfectly fine.

That didn’t make it less saddening.

“Come here.” He’d barely open his arms and invited his niece to find comfort with him when the teenager stepped forward and accepted the warm hug. Vincent stroked his fingers through her copper hair. He wouldn’t say it out loud, but she reminded him so much of Theo when he was a child. “You know, he couldn’t stop talking about how wonderful you were on the job.”

“Really?”

It wasn’t that he hadn’t said so to her. Theo would give praise often, especially when she came up with new ideas. Telling the others about it, that was rarer.

Vincent hummed in response, a gentle smile on his lips as she peeked up at him. “I’d say he was outright bragging. I’m not surprised. You’re his daughter after all.” Placing a kiss on the top of her head, he laughed softly at her uplifted mood.

Elaine lingered a little longer before releasing him, soaking up his sunshine-like warmth. “I guess I could stop pouting about it.” Relenting her sad feelings, she sighed softly before questioning. “So, what was it you wanted my help with?”

“I finished the final painting and I thought I’d ask for your expert advice on where to put it in the gallery space. That is, if you want to.” His request was well-received with a glowing smile from his niece. Theo had mentioned that he’d given her the sole responsibility of choosing how to use the space to best showcase the art. The uncle looked forward to seeing what she’d done.

***********

The paintings on the wall were shrouded in black cloth, to hide the precious items from view until the day of the showing. Only a select few knew what was beneath, ones trusted by Theo to make this a success. Elaine had been gifted one of the only keys to venue, a testament to her importance.

“I believe I’m looking forward to this event more than any other,” Vincent commented, allowing the staff to hang the framed piece in its designated spot.

The heat in her cheeks caused the teenager to turn her gaze anywhere else. “It’s not much different from how Vader does it. I’ve been to more of these than any other event in the city.” The location changed but ever since she learned to walk, she’d been toddling around, observing, and learning how it works. Before she’d even realized, she’d begun understanding color theory and composition.

“It wasn’t too long ago that you were only a few years old and correcting patrons on the medium or style of the art. You always had this incredibly serious expression, much like Theo.”

“That was so long ago! I’m almost eighteen!”

Vincent chuckled with a loving smile. “Yes, I guess that’s right.”

The chime of the door timed perfectly with one of the staff calling to speak with Vincent. Elaine stepped away to investigate the newcomer. Violet eyes narrowed at the sight of a boy, likely no older than herself, attempting to take a peek at the portrait veiled by the black cloth. “Excuse me, but you can’t be in here.” Her tone less than polite, Elaine thrust her palms against his chest to push him away from the art piece.

“Oh, my apologies. I’ve been most curious about why there are staff entering but it’s never been open for business.” His emerald eyes filled with hidden intent that didn’t quite match the half smirk on his lips. The boy never resisted her pushing him back to the door and onto the street. “A secretive operation, I presume, miss?”

“Elaine and we don’t open for another two days.”

Her biggest fear was that he was a spy for le academia and all of her father’s hard work would go to waste if they were discovered. He didn’t fit the typical appearance of a high bred family, usually scrawny and uptight, and he wasn’t either of those things.

“I’ll have to pop in when you are open. My name is Leon Autry.” He flashed another brilliantly smug smile and winked. “Might I inquire your surname, should I have any future questions?” The reason lost on the recipient. He’d yet to ask anything relevant to the gallery.

Elaine turned on her heel to return inside. “It’s Doyle.” Even though she didn’t quite like the boy, she couldn’t risk turning away a potential buyer. Her cheeks were warm, and it wasn’t clear if it was from embarrassment or anger. The young pureblood didn’t have many friends her age, and that led to a bit of awkwardness when around humans her age.

“Ah, like the writer.”

The girl stilled, hand hovering above the door handle. Perhaps she’d heard him incorrectly.

“You might not know of him. He’s a British writer, mystery, I think.”

Or perhaps not.

“I believe it’s Arthur Conan Doyle. Any relation?” Leon asked as if he already knew the answer, like playing a game of truth or dare in order reveal a secret for confirmation.

Elaine relaxed her shoulders. Although she could hardly admit that she was indeed was the daughter of that very Arthur, albeit the vampire one, she wouldn’t allow him to glean that precious information from her. “No, but you aren’t the first to ask. But wouldn’t that be grand? Imagine being related to someone as talented as that.” Her dreamy smile fowled his for a moment.

“Imagine.” The façade of his grin had ghosted away for a split second, but it didn’t go unnoticed.

“Elaine, are you ready to head back?” A third party interrupted, much welcomed by the girl. Vincent approached the two, protectively a half step in front of his niece. The tension between the two children enough to worry him.

Her head bobbed once in response. “Yes, let’s go home.” The way Leon’s eyes followed her unsettled the girl. Elaine settled back on the seat in the carriage, mulling over the strange interaction. Was it so unusual for someone to draw a connection between her name and the human Arthur from this era?

Whatever the case, she now had a proper mystery on her hands.

[dewitty1]

Ocean of Storms

Bounding-Heart (Brief_and_Dreamy) @bounding-heart

Chapters: 12/12 Fandom: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter Characters: Draco Malfoy, Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger, Ginny Weasley, Astoria Greengrass, Theodore Nott, Minerva McGonagall, Portrait Severus Snape, Colin Creevey, Neville Longbottom, Antonin Dolohov, Hannah Abbott, Lavender Brown, Parvati Patil, Seamus Finnigan, Dean Thomas, Andromeda Black Tonks, Teddy Lupin, Daphne Greengrass, Pansy Parkinson, Malcolm Baddock, Moaning Myrtle, Rita Skeeter, Millicent Bulstrode Additional Tags: Eventual Romance, Angst with a Happy Ending, Fights, Snogging, Un-negotiated D/s, Very mild d/s, Rebuilding Hogwarts, Post-War, Romance, Slow Burn, Pining, Enemies to Lovers, Angst, Angst and Feels, Friendship, Magical Theory, Peril, Minor Violence, Falling In Love, Love/Hate, First Time, Emotional Hurt/Comfort

Summary: The war is over and Harry has returned to help rebuild Hogwarts. He longs to move forwards, but the past refuses to let him go. The castle is full of ghosts: haunting nightmares, the deaths he couldn't prevent, and the age-old rivalry that Draco Malfoy seems determined to maintain.

Excerpt:

His mind stayed empty but for an unspecific sense of panic and loneliness as he made his way back to the Slytherin common room. Bits of the dream kept flashing through his mind, but it wasn't as intense as it had been before. As he neared the entrance to Slytherin, he paused and leant back against the wall. The cold of the stone seeped through his jumper and coated his skin. He took several deep, shaky breaths, trying to calm down, trying to get back to normal. Maybe that was the problem. Normal wasn't calm, normal was a state of continuous underlying unease.

He straightened up when the door opened, and then froze.

Malfoy did the same.

Harry couldn't name what passed between them as they stared at each other. A rush of adrenaline sent his heart thumping. He looked at the door to the common room, thinking he could push Malfoy out of the way and flee to safety without it looking like he was doing so.

As if he could read Harry's train of thought, Malfoy pushed the door closed behind him. He peered past Harry, checking the corridor. Harry followed his gaze, hoping, but no. They were completely alone.

Malfoy got a determined look and moved towards Harry.

Harry shrunk back against the wall. 'Stay away. I told you to stay away.'

'Make me,' said Malfoy, and gave Harry a look that sent heat rushing across his skin.

'I'll hit you,' said Harry. 'I'll break your fucking nose like you broke mine.'

Malfoy gave a mean little laugh, then snake-like he struck out and grabbed Harry's collar. He twisted the material in his fist, and tugged. Harry stumbled forwards and something went soft and needy inside him. He hated it. He didn't do anything to stop it.

Malfoy's eyes glittered. 'Come on, Potter.' He dragged Harry to the other side of the corridor and kicked open a door Harry had never noticed before. He yanked Harry inside and closed them in together in the dark.

'Lumos.' The cupboard filled with light, centring on Malfoy's face. He pressed his wand against the wall, whispered a spell, and it stuck there, filling the cupboard with a soft glow.

Irritably, Harry wrenched himself free. Malfoy was looking at him like… Harry had seen Ron look at steak and kidney pie like that. And he didn't understand what it did to him. That hungry gaze. It made him want to hide. It made him want to strike out. It made him dizzy and breathless.

There was nowhere he could hide. He didn't know what to do about the breathless feeling. So he tried to hit Malfoy–a weak, half-hearted punch. Malfoy intercepted it by grabbing his wrist, then forced his arm against the wall above his head. He pressed in close, his breath warm on Harry face.

If Harry struggled, he'd rub against Malfoy. It would just happen. He twisted his hips–just a little, to see what it would be like–and Malfoy grabbed his other wrist and pinned it above his head as well.

Malfoy wasn't much taller than Harry, but he was strong. Harry would have to really struggle to get free. 'Get off me,' he said, voice shaky.

'You don’t want me to,' said Malfoy.

'Don't tell me what I want. Get off me. I want you to get off me.'

'Is that part of it?' asked Malfoy, eating Harry's face with his eyes. 'Pretending I'm forcing you?'

'Part of what?' There. He'd got some bite back in his voice.

'This.' Malfoy slid his hand down Harry's arm, down his chest, his stomach, and then grabbed where Harry was hot and hard.

Harry cried out, and then he did struggle, bucking and shoving against Malfoy, trying to pull himself free.

Malfoy forced him still again by pressing him tight against the wall. 'Merlin,' he said, breathless. 'Fuck, Potter. You're…' He released Harry's wrists and starting fumbling with Harry's trousers. 'Let me touch you.'

Arms finally free, Harry shoved him away. Malfoy tripped backwards, knocking over a stack of pails. An old broom clattered to the floor.

'Imbecile,' Malfoy snapped.

Harry looked at the closed door of the cupboard. He flexed his fingers. He didn't otherwise move.

'What are you going to do?' Malfoy took a step back towards him. 'Run? Or not?'

Harry glared, trying to incinerate Malfoy with the force of his gaze. That would solve all his problems. It didn't work. He wanted Malfoy's body against his again.

'Run or stay.' Malfoy lifted his hands. 'Go if you like. I'm not stopping you.'

Harry didn't think he could walk at the moment, much less run. He ground his teeth.

'So.' Malfoy's voice cracked. 'You're staying?'

Without meeting his eyes, Harry nodded. Once.

Malfoy lit up, bright as his Lumos charm. 'Good.'

With no idea what was coming next, Harry lifted his chin and met his gaze.

Malfoy made a gleeful sound, then flung Harry back against the wall hard enough to make his head snap.

'Oi!' It wasn't too late for Harry to leave, but then Malfoy was unbuckling Harry's belt, and undoing his fly, just like that, and all he could do was watch like a rabbit in headlights.

No one else had ever touched him there. While everyone around Harry started pairing off–and he knew Ron and Hermione were doing all sorts of things, he just knew it, even if Ron didn't tell him about it, thank Merlin–Harry had started to wonder if it would ever happen for him. If he was doomed to remain some kind of pure, untouched martyr child. But now, Malfoy was wrapping his fingers around his cock, and that was wrong and so dirty, and he was ridiculously relieved that he wouldn't die a complete virgin.

He was allowed this. Sex. This normal, human thing. He was allowed, even if it was Draco Malfoy doing it to him.

Malfoy had pale, bony fingers. Harry's cock slid red and shiny within them. He bit down hard on his lip and tried not to sob with pleasure as Malfoy began fisting him, up and down. Malfoy grabbed Harry's waist with his free hand, and pressed tight against him. Harry closed his eyes.

'You like that, Potter?' That cut-glass accent, whispering filthy things into his ear, high and breathless. 'My hand on your cock? You like it?' Malfoy ground against Harry's hip, slow, rhythmic thrusts.

Harry kept his jaw clenched, trying not to make any noise. Fuck, it felt so good. And Malfoy had started making whimpering noises as he moved and they drove Harry crazy. Malfoy's head fell against his shoulder, giving Harry a face full of soft, shampoo-scented hair. He stopped fighting and let himself feel, his hips jerking into Malfoy's fist. He couldn't help it. He let out a helpless moan. Malfoy turned his head and Harry thought he was trying to nuzzle his neck, but then Malfoy bit him. He dug his teeth right into Harry's skin, pumping urgently against Harry's hip, threatening to knock them both over. Harry braced himself against the wall.

Malfoy groaned and started shaking. His grip on Harry tightened to the point of agony and the pain shoved Harry over the edge, making him shout and come. He gave himself up to it, swirling down, like being sucked into the icy cold lake in his dream.

He was still held fast in Malfoy's arms when he resurfaced. Malfoy panted against his neck, his breath hitching as he inhaled. His hips had stopped moving. 'Okay,' Harry said, squirming free. 'You've got what you wanted.'

'What I wanted?' Malfoy scoffed, then nipped Harry's neck one last time before letting him go.

Harry backed up against the opposite wall and rubbed at the spot where Malfoy had bitten him. Keeping his eyes down, he drew his wand, Vanished the mess on his clothes and stomach, then fastened his trousers. 'You're going to tell everyone, aren't you?'

Malfoy looked up from cleaning himself, radiating with self-satisfaction. 'Why shouldn't I?' He watched Harry carefully.

Now that his sweat had cooled, Harry felt bad in a way he couldn't identify. Shame. That was it. He felt ashamed, like he'd done something self-indulgent and wrong. The desire to hit Malfoy was gone, but the sense of loathing beat as powerful as ever. 'Because if you do, I'll never let you touch me again.'

Malfoy blinked. Then he grinned. Which was wrong, Harry hadn't meant to please, him, why… Oh. 'No,' he said. 'It's not going to happen again. That was it. You wanted to deal with the, with the tension? It's dealt with.'

'Right,' said Malfoy. 'Sure it is.'

'I mean it,' said Harry.

Malfoy grinned even wider.

Scowling, Harry yanked the door open and left.

'See you around, Potter,' Malfoy called after him.

Harry slammed shut the door.

[dianadragonfly]

Okay, hang on bitches, cause Imma bout ta rewatch “The Final Problem.” I’ve seen it once since 2017. And because there is no commentary on the disc I have, I will be providing the commentary.

[[MORE]] Since I started my “rewatch and comment” spree, I’ve been pleasantly surprised. Things that had previously stood out in my mind as being particularly not-good are really not that bad. Most were actually really short moments that stood out in retrospect because they seemed incongruous with how well-written and acted everything else was.

Up till season 2, the writers could do no wrong whatsoever. The exact moment I experienced a “well that was overdone” moment of questioning the writers was when Sherlock broadcast a picture of Mary on the outside of the facade in “His Last Vow.” From there, I had moments of doubt and questioning plot and directing choices that took away from the narrative. But, except for the moment John sees Mary die, I never ever questioned the acting choices. The actors are so amazing. And I’m not just saying that because Ben and Martin are hot.

As I prepare to watch the episode, there are several scenes that I dread. Opening with the girl on the airplane reminds me of how much I hated this trick. If the girl is Eurus messing with them, then why do we see it acted out? If we cannot trust that what we see is a reality, then all of the “Mind Palace” theories of TFP (i.e. that it actually took place in a dream or in the head of a character) have some authenticity to them. Ugh.

Damn. I’d forgotten the “Hello. My name is Jim Moriarty” part of the intro. No need for that if the girl is just something in Eurus’s imagination.

Oh shit. I hate hate hate hate everything about this scene of Mycroft.

First of all, there is security in Mycroft’s house.

Second of all, he would have skewered any of those actors with the umbrella sword or shot one of them with the gun.

Why are the paintings crying blood? John and Sherlock couldn’t accomplish that... once we add scary clown it’s just too much. Even for Sherlock.

Oh stop with the heavy-handed East Wind references. Dammit, I loved this show for its subtly. Killer clowns are not subtle, even in pranks.

Now with Mycroft here, in the client position, refusing to sit, with the Baker Street Boys in their chairs - this is what I came for. The light, the look on their faces, the composition of the shot.

Oohh Hudson throwing some shade. John’s half smile...

Is the skull portrait glowing? I can’t tell.

“That’s why he stays!” Fuck yeah. John’s half smile again...

“Middle child. Explains a lot.” As a middle child, I resent that remark. And sort of get it.

So the flashing back and forth in time, with the ashes of Musgrave Hall in the apartment, 5 year old Eurus answering grown-up Mycroft’s questions, the pebble: all of that would be okay, if not a tiny bit less than subtle, had we not just fought a goddamn clown in the scene before.

Oh goddamn. The stupid fucking patience gernade and that song.

Of course Mrs. Hudson vacuums to Iron Maiden.

It’s Sherlock’s turn to half-smile. Cute.

Beautifully shot here with the above view and all three of them at different points on a circle around it.

Ugh. I have to turn away at the “action shot” of them jumping out the window. This is not “Die Hard.” It’s not a cop buddy movie. We just got a really well played, fun little scene where they talked a about Oscar Wilde to avoid talking about the fact that they might die. That’s what I watch Sherlock for.

There was a fan fic written around 2012 that mentions “The Importance of Being Ernest.” Coincidence? Creators reading fanfic? I know Wilde and ACD were contemporaries, but it’s interesting. I can’t think of any other literary works that are alluded to in canon. It’s funny it should be this one.

And now we’ve commandeered a boat. Seriously.

All of the other episodes, I had more patience with on this go-around where I get a chance to type out reactions and reflect on how they are put together. But I’m finding that isn’t the case with this one. I’m just pissed. Give me one or two unbelievable moments or plot twists in an episode and I can sustain it. But between the airplane, killer clowns at Mycroft’s, the patience gernade, and this, I’m already done and we’re 20 minutes in. Sherlock looks like a goddamn vampire bat. And seriously, why does Mycroft need to steal a boat? And write a message in the sand? What the hell? Why dress up?

Sherlock’s security guard act cracks me up.

Oh his face when he sees Eurus. His. Face. Curiosity. Heartbreak. Empathy. Pain. Doubt. Fear. THIS is my show. Not patience gernades, killer clowns, dressing up like a sea captain etc in one damn episode.

She “enslaves” people... magical Eurus who makes people kill their family. Really?!

Oh no. He ignores “Vatican cameos.” I forgot that. He chooses to ignore John’s warning.

His face.... Jesus Benedict can act.

Big bouncy red alert! Okay, what was with the spinning John face when he gets knocked out?

This constant shift between wondering what the hell is happening, wondering if the show has become a parody of itself, and then bouncing back to this heart wrenching narrative — is that the point of this episode? Like “The Empty Hearse” or “The Abominable Bride”? But those episodes explained themselves after they pulled the rug out. As soon as something got to the point of absurdity, it was explained. Sherlock didn’t swing in a window at Bart’s and kiss Molly but we briefly were led to believe he did. Moriarty and Sherlock aren’t really kissing on the roof. (By then we knew what was up though). Sherlock didn’t really attempt to dig up a dead Amelia Rocoletti. We understand it’s a drug-induced dream.

This rapid jumping back and forth with half-assed explainations — I’m coming to believe this off-balance feeling is the point of the episode but I don’t like it. I like it even less than I did before.

Oh Andrew Scott. I love you.

The bastards wait till 5 minutes into the Moriarty scene to tell us it’s 5 years ago. That constant pulling out the rug — I will at least excuse that because there is a plausible explaination given. But it’s a cheap trick. This episode is one cheap trick after another, with only a few moments, here and there, of characters actually interacting.

So it’s late and I don’t know if I have the heart to make it through this whole episode tonight. To be continued....

Edited:

Starting at scene 5 on the DVD because that's when Sherlock sees Eurus for the sort of first time. I kind of just want to bask in Ben's performance here again.

After the last episode, clean-shaven Sherlock in a suit is a relief. He's back... at least a little.

His small smile when he asks her how she got out. . .

I'm realizing how much of this scene had to be Benedict looking directly into the camera and talking to Eurus. That had to be intimidating.

***I've skipped ahead to closer than where I was last night because the small people in my house will want food soon. Parentig gets in the way of fangirling. ****

I still love the Hungry Donkey story.

OH MY GOD! I forgot how much I love Andrew Scott here!!!

Are they making out through the glass?

And now the four of them wake up in a cell but this one has glass. Ugh. The plane again. I love how Sherlock changes his voice here to talk to the girl. He isn't incapable of reading people and reacting to them. He just usually can't be bothered. There’s a fan theory that says Sherlock is autistic. I was going to comment that this skill of his is evidence that he’s not but I stopped myself. He -knows- HOW one needs to act to get people to respond to him, but it’s a learned skill. Which actually might add evidence to the “autism” theory more than the sociopath theory.

Mark Gatiss - I forget what an incredible actor he can be. Whoa.

These scenes - these scenes where they have to apply themselves to a task that Eurus sets for them -- they are so fucking good. Tense and well-acted. I can see every emotion on every actor's face. The rest of the episode should have been better to make it worthy of these performances. It physically hurt watching John try to shoot the governor.

Someone said that Jim Moriarty went from a criminal mastermid to manical Thomas the Train Engine on this episode and I can't unthink that any time he flashes on the screen.

I had a moment, when Eurus was using such clinical language of behavioralism ("prompts") etc that I flashed back onto my life as an ABA instructor. Seriously. I know they are a million miles away but no one watching this would ever think, even for a second, that Eurus was morally right. Why, then, do we do a smiliar thing to autistic children? I had a moment of revulsion then. (Restirct physical liberty and autonomy, make them complete a command that's nonsensical for either reward or aversive. Give prompts. Follow through (deny reward) if one deviates from the prompt). She might as well been saying "Touch table, Sherlock." ("Touch table" is one of the first directives often given in ABA. It's easy to manually prompt (force) a kid to do and helps the kid realize the link between following the requests and obtaining rewards.)

Sorry. ABA rant is slightly off topic.

To be continued in comments ..

[datarevived]

– Ⅵ : ʟᴇᴀʀɴ ʙʏ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴏʟᴠᴇs PT.2 

" You know, I can not believe you some times. " " Mhmm... " " On some days, you're gloomy as a cloud, and others? You're high as a kite and face flat in a poor wolf's coat! " " ...Isso'fluffy... " " If we stay here much longer, he'll draft us in you know. " " Nnnnnnnnnn... " " Selene. " " Nnnnnnn!!hnhnnnnn. "

" You're worrying the dog, " Bex's voice came further disgruntled, the Exo standing few feet away from the portrait that was the Awoken latched and dug into a laying wolf nearly equal to her size. The creature having found itself comfortable in shade, just beneath a canopy tent that sat to the right of ceremonial torches and gong - the notorious Titan, known as the last remaining Iron Lord, standing before its' display and surrounded by a handful of other individuals. A second wolf, just as mighty, sitting at his side with amber eyes seeking like a predator to anyone who moved wrong.

" Either that, or its' partner there is going to get jealous of the attention, " the Exo nudged, jabbing a thumb over his shoulder. The statement retracting the Awoken's face from snow-white pelt, a look of pure euphoria painted over starry freckles as she reaches a hand between its' ears, giving in a farewell ruffle before sitting up straight in her own space.

" Ah come on, don't tell me you've never wanted to pet a wolf, " Selene grinned, thoroughly content with their primary objective. The act of crossing legs and grabbing her ankles with both hands shadowing the attempt to move anytime soon.

" Oh, but I have, " arms crossed at the Warlock's chest - if he had features to do so, he would have retaliated with his own smirk. " Plenty, actually. Dogs, cats, birds - "

" -- You can't pet a bird. "

" Get close enough to one and try it, then! You can totally pet a bird, " he snarls, rolling his optics. " Point is, I've done a lot of things - plenty of things. Many things. Even petting birds. "

" Eh, that's cheating, " Selene shook her head, rolling her own eyes as she glanced over towards the crowd. The perspective of being flat on the floor even more daunting to their various sizes and armor -- planting that of a child in the wake of giants. " You're like a hundred years old or somethin'. Got all that fancy experience and wisdom under those robes of yours. "

" Hundreds' being relatively generous, " he mutters.

" Yeah? I can only imagine what that means for others, " she laughs. Attention thriving on the focus of people, voices belonging to too many making it difficult to match those who still wore their helmets in person. A moderate surprise to the many that were standing around waiting, patiently expecting the first match of the Banner to be called sooner than later. Even the Crucible match-maker, himself, stood nearer the Iron Lord in short banter and exchange of words. An exchange she was not looking forward to in theory, eventually needing to close her end of the deal.

" It's not... too bad, right? "

" What? Iron Banner? "

" No... like, the regular stuff. Crucible. "

" Whaaat? Nah, places' a playfield. Lord Shaxx keeps everyone on their A-Game and safety above all else, " Bex explained, sunset orbs meeting the conversation with its' topic. " It's meant to get Guardians in shape, anyway. Especially before bigger forces like the Red War and stuff. Woulda been great to have around back in the days, instead of just having to wing it, y'know? "

" I guess. "

" Don't worry on it too much! I'm sure you'll be in and out before ya'know it anyway. Lucky if you even get on the scoreboard by the end of it. Maybe y'got that beginners luck, " he shoots a thumbs up, optics canny of a risen smile. 

The Hunter's gaze unfortunately occupied elsewhere to recognize it - the familiar burn of blue and white catching the corner of her eye amongst the sea of people. The blonde who had been enraged before, the flaps of his Mark catching the wind as he fast-paced walked from one end of the balcony to the other, heading nearer the Bazaar with no intentions for a pit-stop. An ever-curious pull, unwarranted and indescribable. Selene pulls herself to her feet with uncertainty, stumbling a moment to catch her footing before turning back towards Bex.

" Did you see that? "

" Uhhh... see what? "

" The guy from earlier, " she points,  though shadow long gone that the man ever existed.

" The... who? What, the guy with Zavala? "

" Yeah, he - " before she could finish the thought, the sudden texture of fur meets beneath her hands, giving the Awoken a spook before looking down at the canine who preoccupied her time moments before. Its' muzzle, pointed in the direction of which she pointed, nose wrinkled in a sniff and short growl in its' throat before the wolf paces forward. It goes to the end of the balcony where stairs meet towards the Bazaar before sitting in question, eyes hampered upon the duo as if waiting for them to follow.

" I'll uh... I'll be right back, " Selene waves, motioning Bex to remain there while she followed. A spacious look of confusion now drawn across the Exo's faceplate, stunned a moment before raising both his hands in question. As if just like that, his friend had made better partner of a dog than he. 

How... tragic.

"Told'ya Screws, was over before it even started! "

- - -

Voices began to dull as air became less polluted with noise the further down the two traveled. The wolf continuing its' march before halting just before the curve of a doorway, sitting in stance as tail curls towards its' feet, ears pointed high. For all that she could, Selene merely followed in silence - blindly, unawares of what nature the creature had in store. She couldn't bring herself to question it - only that she knew she had to. A special feeling deep in her gut, that it would be worthwhile to solve secondary mystery before hunting down the man in blue and white.

What she did not recognize, however, was the the mystery would be two in the same. A series of voices ringing out from the other side of the arch, echoing against the brief metal pipes that lined the ceiling of the inner corridors to the Tower. One of the halls that led into storage rooms that had been plugged as living rooms, such as hers given to her by Hawthorne. Falling unaware to the fact she would be involuntarily spying on someone.

A duo of men, by the sounds.

    " If the Hidden are correct in their suspicion, this is too dangerous to go alone-- "     " It's too dangerous to be left alone, and too high a risk to bring more lives than necessary. "     " And what, your life will suffice? What of you if you die like the rest? "     " I won't. "     " And you can be so sure? What happens, then? That you find out the truth and cannot bring it back with you? Reckless and shallow? "     " I'm going to find answers, and that will lead us further to where we need to be. "     " You're being too brash about this Val. I beg of you, just listen to Zavala and- "     " I did not come here for your pleads, Vellguine! "     " Then why did you come?! "

The shouts having rung the halls like thunder, they send a shake through her spine and wince of features against the tension. Hunkered over, her hands instinctively grab back at the pelt of her guide, lightly squeezing in speechless vain as she continued to listen.

    " ...I came because we know better than anyone, that we don't always get what we want. "     " Valdourin... please. "     " I don't intend to go down as easily. But we cannot always prevent the unexpected... You're the last I have left. I figured it only right to tell you up front. I owe you that, at least. "

The remains of the conversation falling dull, a stalemate between silence and muttered whispers, the wolf pulls from its' seat and nudges against the Awoken in company. As if auto-pilot, obliging in its' direction as she stands back to her height, hand still connected with pelt as the creature leads her back up the stairs and towards the wake of cheering Guardians. 

She finds Bex not too far off from where she left him, now sitting on one of the benches near some of the gardening plants. Just beneath the canopy as fur leaves her hand to return to its' most comfort in the shade, a gentle nod offered in return for its' help as she sat next to the sulking Exo. They go without speaking for a few moments, she in process of what she just heard, and he, in childish tantrum, pouting like a poor fool.

-- Climbing boots catch Selene's ear from the side before she speaks, the blue and white Titan leaving the bay and heading through the Courtyard back to the Hanger. Valdourin. 

" ...Hey Bex. What else do you know about the Ward? "

" . . . "

" . . .Bex? "

" . . .Not 'lot. "

" . . .I think we should talk to him. "

" . . .Why? "

" I just... have this feeling, " she turns in her seat, half expecting to come face to face with the Exo, had he not been hard-line staring at the horizon to his right. Arms still crossed against his chest, muted expression cursed by unmovable parts. Yet tone alone told the story of a man -- and had it not been for his optics and uncanny eye-brows ( were they eyebrows? eyelids? shifty-bits? ), it gave enough character to reflect that of bias man-child. " ...Whats wrong with you? "

" Wrong with me? Nothing wrong with me. Nothing at all. Nada. Not a thaaaaaang. "

" -- ʜᴇ ᴅᴏᴇs ɴᴏᴛ ʟɪᴋᴇ ʙᴇɪɴɢ ʟᴇғᴛ ᴀʟᴏɴᴇ. "

The third voice of the bench, Screws, having popped toward Selene's left as she peered over upon Ghost. A raise of her own eyebrows at the response -- and Bex is suddenly looking her way. Well, Screws's way. Angry eye-squint-lids.

" And this is why I don't ask for your input! "

" You're upset I left you --? " Selene cracks, half in trying not to crack a contagious smile of laughter. " Oh, please! It was a stealth mission --! We woulda been toast if we both went! "

" Oh, but the dog can go. "

" I feel like the dog has a bit more common sense than the two of us combined. "

An audible huff -- optics slant in a lined stare before shaking his head rapidly and dropping arms from their stiffness. A few grumbles of inaudible words prowl the orange sensors in his plate before standing back up from the bench, extending a hand to the other reluctantly. She'd win this one.

" So - what do you think? " she asks, accepting the full invitation to stand.

" I think we should stay out of other peoples' business unless they make a good meal. "

" Well what if he cooks? "

" If he cooks something other than grenades that are thrown at the enemy with the next high score? Sure, we'll talk it out, " Bex sassed, nodding along with his words. " But until then -- I think it's a bad idea, and you're getting your head a bit too close to drowning. Keep it above water. "

" But he needs help -- I heard it, " Selene argues, tilting her head slight. " I don't know what he's doing but it's clearly something more than one person can handle. "

" And I can assure you, a guy like that? Has his own fireteam that is very capable. Now come on, Shaxx just signed up the next ring of Crucible. You're gonna miss out if we don’t get down there. "

" Beeex! "

" Talk it after the match, green leaf! Let's gooo~! "

[heisenbergchronicles]

APPRECIATION & INTERVIEW

Better Call Saul episode posters by Matt Talbot After 4 nearly years, I thought it was time to catch up with Matt Talbot about his Better Call Saul poster project. The last time we talked during Season 1, Matt was deep in the hustle of making his name as an illustrator: juggling a full-time job, freelance projects, as well as band. Finding time for personal projects like this one can be a significant challenge. (Not to mention surviving the death of your tools: During Season 1 his Mac laptop died, and this season, his Wacom tablet bit the bullet). But despite these challenges, the 43-year-old New Hampshire native has persevered to create a clever and thoughtful series of episode posters that has garnered considerable attention, and brought with it new high-profile clients and art exhibitions. 

First, congratulations on all of your success and recognition with this series of posters. It’s well-deserved. What’s been the most gratifying feedback you’ve received? Thank you! Every interaction I’ve had with anyone from the show has delighted me. I've been surprised by all of the cast and crew members who have said nice things – every note I’ve gotten has meant a lot to me. That being said, Michael McKean randomly tweeting at me that he has my poster for Chicanery hanging in his home blew my mind. I was eating dinner when my phone showed the notification and I literally jumped up from the table. I’ve been a fan of Michael’s since I saw Spinal Tap in the ‘80s and never in a million years would I have guessed I’d make something he valued enough to hang in his home.

Tell me about your contributions to Gallery1988 exhibitions. How does that process work? It's a pretty simple process. They invite me to be part of a show, and I make something to send them. I’m very excited for the opportunity to show there, and I feel like it’s a milestone in my art-making career.

Across the 4 seasons, which BCS posters are your favorites? Which one are you most proud of? I’m particularly fond of Rebecca, Rico, Marco, Switch, Sunk Costs and Something Beautiful. Oh man, it's hard for me to evaluate my own stuff. I tend to like the posters where I find a way to get a different take on something they did in the episode. I would say that “Sunk Costs” is also one of my favorites because I did something differently than how they shot it, and because Mike is so recognizable even from the back. I was also pleased with “Off Brand” because it was when I finally figured out how to draw Bob Odenkirk.

How has your process for creating these posters evolved over 4 seasons? When I started this project I had a vague idea that I would focus on scenes rather than portraits or likenesses, but that didn’t even last half a season! The characters were too good not to include. In that way, the posters have evolved in my willingness to draw characters, and also, hopefully, my ability to draw them. 

My process is now something like: Watch the show on Monday; think about it on Tuesday, figure out what stood out to me and do a thumbnail sketch or two; draw it on Wednesday night; post it Thursday afternoon. I’m a bit faster at drawing these now compared to when I started. And I’m a bit more decisive on choosing which subject matter to depict.

There have been quite a few changes on the visual side of Better Call Saul over the last 2 seasons. New directors (Minkie Spiro, Daniel Sackheim, and Andrew Stanton), a new cinematographer Marshall Adams, even new cameras. What are your thoughts on how the show’s visual grammar has evolved? Has any of this impacted your posters from Seasons 3 & 4? I try not to just redraw literal scenes from the show, and I don’t need to tell you that they shoot the show in an incredibly beautiful way. I mean, they always, always, pick the best angle, the best shot to capture something. For that reason, it’s sometimes hard to to come up with another take on a moment from the show.

That being said, the visual style hasn’t really impacted my posters as much as the evolving subject matter has. The show, I think, is substantially darker than it was in the early going. It was easier to depict Jimmy’s hi-jinx in the first couple seasons. But with Chuck’s deteriorating mental state, the cartel stuff, Mike going deeper into Fring’s world and of course, Jimmy’s loosening sense of morals, the funny moments are harder to spot. That’s lead me to some more somber layouts and color choices.

We didn’t discuss this in our first interview. Which typeface are you using in your posters, or is this custom typography? The main logo and episode titles are set in Sign Painter, from the excellent House Industries.

The Heisenverse is known for it’s color theory and use of color. How has that impacted your color choices in these posters? I’ve kind of adhered to their blue=good/red=bad symbolism, but I also try to balance out colors between episodes and not repeat myself in sequential posters.

Many of your posters (especially ones this season) use a monochromatic, or simple palette of 1-2 colors. Tell me more about why you chose that approach. Is this a signature of your style? I’ve seen this approach in a lot of your work. You know, in the early seasons, I was trying to use simpler color palettes, but I wasn’t very disciplined and I got away from that. I’m trying to stick to a more consistent style in season 4. It is a conscious decision. I also feel like with the week-to-week nature of this project, it helps quickly set apart each poster. And, I really do love limited color palettes. Giving myself color constraints helps me figure out different ways to solve layout problems.

I’ve heard other illustrators say that Bob Odenkirk’s facial features are tricky to capture. Do you share that sentiment? Which characters are more challenging to illustrate? I do agree with that. I had a really hard time with him at first. I kind of think I have a better handle on it now, but I’m always trying to get better. I feel like if you can get his mouth right, it goes a long way.

I found Hector hard to capture both times I drew him. Mike, on the other hand, is just pure fun to draw. Jonathan Banks is so distinctive and iconic.

What’s been the most difficult poster thus far? Why was it challenging? Maybe it’s because a lot of time has gone by, but I can't think of one that stands out as having been really difficult.

Francesco Francavilla did alternate posters for some of his Breaking Bad posters. Inevitably, when artists look back at their work, they consider revising or redoing it because of a variety of reasons – their point of view has changed, their skill/style has evolved, or maybe they were never truly content with the final product. Looking back at 4 seasons worth of posters, are there any that make you want to scratch the revision itch? Yeah, more than I would care to admit. I would really like another crack at Amarillo. I know I could do a better job and that drawing is just super flat. In season two, I decided to to experiment with style and I kind of wish I hadn't. I like Cobbler, but I wish I had drawn it in my normal style. I would redraw Nailed for sure. Oh man, if I start going down this road it's not going to end well, so I'll just stop.

You mentioned earlier this season you were excited to draw Track Suit Jimmy. Who or what haven’t you drawn, that you are eager to illustrate? Howard! It bums me out to no end that I haven't drawn him, but it just hasn't worked out. And I need to include Kim more. It's kind of criminal that her face only appeared for the first time in a poster this season.

What’s your opinion of Season 4? Tell me about your favorites – episode, scene, character. I think season 4 is brilliant so far. The Kim/Jimmy relationship has deepened so much this season, and feels so real, but full of inevitable heartache. Oh, the flash-forward to Breaking Bad’s timeline was amazing. Mike doing his audit in the Madrigal warehouse. Really, anything Michael Mando does on screen. It's hard to pick. I so enjoy the deliberate pace of this show.

Where’s your favorite place to discuss the show? I honestly don’t talk about it too much online, though I lurk in a few places and read a lot. I actually discuss it mostly with my wife!

I know you get this question a lot, so let’s cover it here so folks understand: Do you have plans to sell any of this work online? I really appreciate that people like it enough to want to buy it or hang it, but I don't plan to sell the Better Call Saul posters online. I’m doing this for fun, not to make a buck off the show, and I don’t own the rights to sell it anyway.

What’s next for Matt? Do you have any other poster or illustration projects in the works? Is you band performing soon? I have several more pieces for Gallery1988 shows coming up. I’m pulling together an art show at a local brewery for whom I design all of their labels and stuff. I’m patiently waiting for a t-shirt I designed for one of my all-time favorite movies to be announced. And for the past several Octobers, I spent the month drawing a horror poster per day. I’m not sure if logistically I can do that again this year, but I’ll probably fit at least a few in. We’ll see how it goes. Sadly, with all of my illustration work, I haven’t had any time for music making, but someday I hope to get back to that!

Follow Matt: Web site / Tumblr / Twitter / Dribbble / Instagram / PosterSpy

– Interview by Shayne Bowman, Heisenberg Chronicles

[reallyhardydraws]

ask response time !!! ✨✨✨

so as to save everyone’s dashboards i’ll answer as many as i can here, then ones that won’t fit in i’ll respond separately... so just scroll/hit J to skip this post if necessary.

anonymous said: Hi! You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to, but all my art has felt pixelated to me and idk what to do. What program do you use and what canvas size and brush settings do you use for your art? Thank you!

i use paint tool SAI (a cracked version, i don’t remember where i downloaded it from sorry!) and i’m not gonna lie, i work pretty stupid small, usually just 1000x1500 for a portrait/landscape piece, and 1000x1000 for a square piece. then sometimes i adjust to 1200 or 1300 for height but... it’s not really an exact science, i know those size settings definitely won’t blur on tumblr tho! 🎨🎨🎨

anonymous said: i love your scooby doo art. just wanted to know which characters you headcanon as being in relationships.

in my scooby-doo: where are you? AU fic i’m writing (which you can read here!) i’m only 2 chapters in as of now but have it down that daphne and fred are officially dating, but i ship the human members of mystery inc as a poly OT4 (and that’s what the fic is essentially about) so by the end of the story they’re all gonna be sure they’re all in love together. 💕💕💕 (tho if ur familiar with my work it might be obvious i actually ship shaggyxvelma and daphnexvelma much more than daphnexfred)

anonymous said: Chunkus McCoy anonymous said: Chunkus Sparkleshell! I’m lame; I like my D&D last names in that vein. anonymous said: IM!!! I LOVE CHUNKUS!!!! THE B E S T!!! anonymous said: Chunkus Freshy-Funkus! 

these are all responses to me trying to give chunkus a last name huh :’) oh AND some general love for chunkus. thank you so much for the love for chunkus everyone! as for his last name, right now he’s still chilling without one, but thank you for all the suggestions. 🐢🐢🐢

anonymous said: you’re my fave artist of all time 💕✨🎨

thank you!!! i’m honoured you enjoy my stuff so much! 💖💖💖

anonymous said: Do u like Splatoon?? The bright colors remind me of u, especially the squid sisters!

i definitely dig the aesthetic!!! i think the characters are so cute and yes i do like the squid sisters!!! my lovely friend @hanaxsongs​ has shown me some splatoon in the past and i dig it, but me and actually playing video games just doesn’t mix. i am absymal at them and i just get way too stressed out which makes it not fun for anyone :’) 🐠🦑🏊

anonymous said: hi, i absolutely love your art style!! do you take requests? bc i would love too see some dear evan hansen in your style. keep doing awesome stuff! :)

i do not take requests, however if you really want to guarantee art from me, my commissions are open! and otherwise, thank you, i’m really glad you enjoy my stuff! 🌟🌟🌟

anonymous said: What does the kazookeylele sound like/how is it played??

so...i first heard of the kazookeylele from this video:

it’s essentially a toy piano with a ukulele neck and strings, and a kazoo attached. and my choice of it being my d&d character’s main bardic instrument was... just a joke tbh but i ended up really liking chunkus as a character and so when i drew my updated design for chunkus, i slightly altered the kazookeylele to be more like a uke with a xylophone attached, because i thought a xylophone would fit in a bit better with a fantasy setting? but xylophones have bars rather than keys - so really it ought to be called a kazoobarlele now!!! 🎶🎶🎶

anonymous said: i love your scooby doo art!!!

thanks! i’m very glad you do, and i hope to have more for you soon! 🍟🐾🌭

anonymous said: Do you like Animal Crossing??

in theory yes!!! i never had any video game consoles as a kid growing up so i only really ever played it when i borrowed my friend’s DS in primary school/early high school but! (and i still can’t afford one now cry) but i think its a really cute game, i love the look of the lil villages and characters! 💚💚💚

[boogiewrites]

Choking On Sapphires 15

Title & Song:  Sympathy For The Devil

Characters: Alfie Solomons x Genevieve (OFC)

Word Count: 3600+

Summary: Genevieve is a force to be reckoned with. An intelligent, independent and brutal businesswoman. She’s been intrigued by Alfie since she met him. But where will she draw the line between business and pleasure now that they are working so closely together? Genevieve is all flash but will their time spent together start to show the cracks in her powerful facade?

A/N: Every chapter of this story will have a song to work as the title and as a soundtrack. Chapter song is Sympathy For The Devil by The Rolling Stones. The songs give a good background to the stories and have some further insight into the characters. Positive feedback is MUCH appreciated! Reblogs, likes and comments feed this artists beast to write more!

Part 1: Thieves & Kings.- Pt. 2 Conquest - Pt. 3 Nail In My Coffin - Pt. 4 - 60 Feet Tall Pt. 5 I Bet You Look Good On The Dance Floor Pt. 6 Stop The World Pt 7 Making A Fool Of You Pt 8 L'Amour et la violence Pt 9 Play With Fire Pt 10 Black Treacle Pt 11 These Stones Will Shout Pt 12 Fireside Pt 13 Trouble Pt 14 Tighten Up Pt 16 Don’t Speak

My Masterlist.

Tags! Let me know if you’d like to be added or dropped! Thanks!

@fangirlfreakingout @jaegeeeeer@cosettewinchester @lookuptheskyisfalling-blog@brianaisasongbird @cry5t4l-w4rri0r @iliveonchocolateandnetflix@jess2464  @hardygal69 @thegarrisonpublichouse @a-flock-of-angry-pigeons​ @pootle

You are once again spending your Friday night in the study with Alfie. This was becoming a reoccurring theme.  He's sunk back into the couch in front of the fire. His glasses sit on his nose, it buried in a book. His feet covered in slippers and crossed at his ankles, the grey fabric matching the pajamas he was wearing, all covered in patterned light silk robe you'd talked him into trying on and he'd actually loved it. He hadn't admitted it but you'd seen him in the kitchen in the middle of the night wearing it and seemingly nothing else. Once you'd seen this you knew your theory about it feeling good with his sensitive skin was indeed correct. Aggie had pulled you out of bed to see him, and although you hadn't been opposed to getting to see him in such a way, you found her matchmaker tactics a bit heavy handed even if they were well-intentioned.

You're sitting incorrectly in a chair, sweet sucked in your mouth, a common approach to lounging in your home. At first it had caught Alfie off guard, catching you upside down and sideways in chairs reading. He'd even come across you perched on table tops and laying on stair banisters in the sun much like a cat on occasion. Currently, you're sitting with your knees bent, legs hanging over the back of the chair, your back in the seat. You've been staring at the ceiling for a bit, just letting your mind wander where it wanted.

You were contemplating Alfie Solomons currently, as you found yourself doing far too often lately. Watching his nostrils flare and nose twitch over his fluffy mustache. You contemplated the charming glasses that sat atop his nose. His heavy, focused brow atop piercing eyes, even without the powerful look behind them, the blue enough to stand on its own and still affect a woman without the addition of intent behind them. You smile at his dark hair, currently lax and messy, longer bits falling about his forehead and ears. He was in such a state, as he'd had a bath after dinner and was now in full recline for the long haul into the night with the lovely plans of doing nothing in particular. His gingery beard, in a mix match to his dark hair reminds you of a Calico cat and makes you hum quietly in amusement. His rough hands with scaled knuckles hold an old book, you think you recognize the language to be Russian. He clears his throat, completely unaware of your study of him. You find yourself jealous you can't read Russian. You knew a handful of swears and basic directions from your childhood nurse, Ida but you only had very limited knowledge past that. You chew the inside of your cheek and consider learning Russian. You shift your weight in the chair, contemplating how intelligent he is. And not in the obnoxious academia way that you were too well acquainted with. He wasn't simply informed, he was clever. Your favorite expression of this being his quick and funny wit. Your mind then reminds you of how much he made you laugh, causing your nose to wrinkle subtly in consideration of how much you enjoyed his company. You switch back to considering the breadth of his knowledge before you take too many steps down that road of thought. Surely there were things for you to learn from this brain.

"Alfie?" you call out inquisitively.

"Hmm?" he says with a grunt, eyes not leaving his book.

"How well versed are you in Faberge?" you ask while you swivel yourself around, legs now over the side of the chair, your back against the opposite arm. His eyes look up from his book and over at you.

"Quite a bit, sweetheart. What d'ya want to know?" he removes his glasses and closes his book.

"Oh, nothing in particular," you shake your head. "I was just thinking about them." you say biting your lip. "Have you ever come across one?"

"I 'ave." he nods, bottom lip jutted out just slightly.

"Which?" you pry enthusiastically.

"Lillies of the Valley and a few of the Russian ones, but I didn't get as good of a look at 'em as I did the Lillies." he says with a fond, nostalgic tone.

"Mmmm." you hum contently at the thought.  "I've heard it's breathtaking, covered in pearls with shimmering pinks and greens." you hand emphasizes the description and lands on your chest.

"Stunning, it was." he nods. "What about you?"

"I've seen five different eggs." He blinks at you, very surprised. "I had friends with exceptionally rich fathers growing up." you explain with a chuckle and a wave of your hand. "One was a Kelch, and the others from the Imperial collection." he nods in thought, his eyes looking down to the ground. "Seeing as my encounters outnumber yours, might I interest you in adding another egg to the list of those you've seen?" you grin sheepishly.

"Is this your way of asking me about a job?" he says, a singular brow raised in a scolding expression.

"No. I have one." you savor the look on his face as it shifts quickly before your eyes.

"Ya fuckin' what?!" he shouts, his brow shooting up in his excitement that was masked by a mean tone. "In the fuckin' house?" he says just as loudly, cutting you off and your smile grows wider as you see that familiar enthusiasm.

"Yes." you nod and give him an obvious expression. "Where else would I keep them?" you say in a playfully condescending way.

"Why'd you never mention this before?" his eyes blink rapidly at you, he leans forward in the seat, his tone stung slightly with offense.

"I didn't know if I could trust you now, did I?" you say, turning to sit in the chair normally. "I couldn't have you going and stealing my favorite things because then I'd have to kill you and that would be a great big fucking mess to deal with." you chuckle as you stand from the chair. "Besides, it's in my bedroom and I'm not about to go invite a known criminal to come in and get his hands all over my precious things as soon as he walks in the door." You smirk at him, making your way across the room, being entirely cheeky with the double meaning of your words.

"Well no one can say you aren't smart, Genevieve." he says with a chuckle, eyes watching you as he sits up in the chair.

"A man has to earn these sorts of things from me." you state, your hands on your hips. "I suppose you've earned it, Solomons." you say in a playful tone as he stands from the couch.

He's standing in the doorway of your massive bedroom. You've disappeared into a doorway to change out of the dress you'd been wearing, Informing him to stay as if he were a pet. He takes in the room, finding himself almost intimidated, highly intrigued and slightly aroused.  Everything felt plush and luxurious as soon as you walked in, the thick rug beneath his feet,  the velvet fabric hanging from the bed and walls, the pale grey paint covered in pictures. Paintings of all sizes in bold, elaborate gold frames in a well-spaced collage across the room. Among the squared paintings hung portraits of you and of others he didn't recognize, depictions of gods and goddesses, and acts of biblical brutality. The huge canopy bed, draped in black velvet curtains sits in a circular space, huge tufted with gold buttons headboard sitting very close to the solid wall that sat between two huge windows. The curtains matched those of the canopy, everything else in the room in gold and rich jewel tones. A black based, but brightly patterned rug covers most of the floor, the wood beneath it stained almost as dark. The furniture all a matched set, a beige-white and gold filigree exterior, a similar look you had in many rooms of the house.

He walks to a bookcase, books in many different languages, some very old and well read, some new with uncracked spines in rows. The ones he could understand the writing on shown a similar theme among all the books...sex. This made him give a cheeky glance that wasn't meant to be seen in the direction you've walked. A large painting hung above the bed which now held his attention. He didn't recognize the artist, but it was a nude woman, slightly reclined with a huge black snake twisting up her body, it's head resting on her shoulder, a subtle smile on both their faces. He could imagine the things he didn't know about you, the bits of you that caused you to choose this specific painting to hang in such importance. He imagined and he yearned to know with more certainty, feeling his interest peaked. He hadn't expected this in your bedroom, but as his eyes search for something to give him further insight into your mind you call out in a lilted voice for him.

(”The Sin.” Franz Von Stuck)

He walks through the threshold, through a tiled and marble bathroom, through a less obvious doorway which led him into a huge closet. "Ya dead posh, innit ya?" he says, his mouth slightly open. Taking in the multiple rows of clothes with a wide grin at your possessions.

He follows you further into a different chamber of the closet, a fitting room with raised center and huge mirrors, and drawers and drawers of glass lidded boxes containing jewels.  A top a pedestal, covered in a large bell jar with a gold handle and rim, sits the Danish Palaces egg. The pink egg, lined in gold and diamonds sits in its holder, it's keepsake stretched out, a series of panels matching the egg with different landscapes inside sits alongside it.

You sit with legs crossed at the knee, leaning back on your hands on a big, round, tufted and fringed mauve ottoman. "The bell is very heavy dear, be careful, I know you're in a hurry to get your hands all over her." you tease, watching him gently set his cane onto the seat next to you and inspects the egg.

"Hello." he drags out the word in a groan, in a voice so low it makes you smirk at its implications. The tone being warranted to be said between thighs instead of to an object. He picks up the egg with two hands, approaching it with a face that saw nothing else in the world at that moment. You watch him with a smile and a tilted head, your foot bobbing up and down as his brow weighs heavy over his eyes. "Did ya steal it?" he asks, no hesitation or judgment in his voice.

He looks over his shoulder at you as you let out a loud laugh at his straightforward question. "I did not actually. I bought it as a birthday present to myself."

"When's ya birthday?" he asks, his face scrunched up and almost looking your way, not willing to look away from the egg.

"August." you answer, surprised he cared to ask such a thing.

"You would buy yourself a birthday present." a subtle smile comes across his lips, his face moving back to the egg.

"Well, I would know better than anyone else as to what to get myself for my own birthday, wouldn't I?" you ask, no tone of offense to his critical retort.

"If Faberge is what you demand for your birthday, you're pricing out most of the men in London there, princess." he muses, humor in his voice but not so much his face.

"Good," you say with a low chuckle. "And I am not a princess. I don't demand Faberge for my birthday." you roll your eyes and purse your lips at him, holding your chin up.  

"Getting a Faberge egg on your birthday though, yeah? Sure sounds like a princess to me, mate." he grins.

"More like a Queen," you say with a weak, smug expression. "I worked my ass off for the paydays that purchased that." you point aggressively at the egg. He turns his face to you as you start to walk towards him. "I wanted this bought legally and with own money I earned so it couldn't ever be taken from me." you reach out with a type of sadness he's only seen before briefly as you spoke of your family. He hands the egg over to you. You sigh heavily and inspect it. "I understand why you'd call me a princess." you glance up at him, a small chuckle escaping you, a fleeting smile passes across your face. "And I am a bit, but I'm self-aware enough to know that." you shrug slightly. "But then there's the woman who had to go through the mistakes and work her ass off to get this." you sigh and hand the egg back to him. "I suppose I'm as much of one as I am the other." your head tilts to the side, your eyes are gazing far away to something intangible. "But I would rather you refer to me as a woman than princess out of the two." you look at him with much more humor at yourself than he anticipates when he looks up from the egg.

He doesn't respond for a heavy minute but looks at you very seriously, you let out a relieved sigh as you study his face. "I weren't implyin' you dinnit deserve it." he says quietly, his face leaning in closer to yours.

"I know that,"you give him a small smile. "I'm just a bit sensitive about money sometimes." you scrunch your nose in an apologetic look. "Didn't mean to come at you so heavy with the feelings." you take an animated deep breath and let out a slightly nervous chuckle and move over a set of drawers.

"If there's anything to feel strongly about," he says, sitting the egg back on the pedastool "I believe money would be near the very top of that list." he holds your hand and pats it with his own. You nod and look at him from under your lashes. His eyes searching yours for a sign he could make the sadness receed in them. "You've managed to buy one for yourself though, eh?" he adds. "I dont know no princesses that can say that." he suggests with a shrug of his shoulders.

Now it's your turn to pause. You look up at and can't help but smile at the genuine look in his eyes. You push up to your tip toes and plant a single kiss on his face, directly by his mouth. He's very surprised by this as he stiffens as you move away.

"What's 'at for?" he asks, his voice inflected with amusement at you.

"You're very sweet when you want to be. You know that?" you ask, your eyes wide at the question. You slip your hand from his, turning to place them on the drawers in front of you.

"I don't recall bein' referred to as sweet before." he says, only his eyes moving over you.

"Perhaps it's not everyone's kind of sweetness." you shrug. "I'm sure you've been told you're good with words before." you state matter of factly. "Same horse, different color." you add before you turn to face him. "Now you can understand my actions that day at The Garrison a bit better."

"Oh I understood that as soon as I found out Tommy proper fucked ya on that." he nods enthusiastically.

"I've not been able to find out who bought that egg." you say quietly, as his eyes slide back over to you after being distracted by the contents of the room. "You wouldn't have happened to have heard anything, would you?" you ask.

He makes a low humming noise at your request. "Might have." he shrugs. "Might not've." he grins. "If you can tell me how you knew about that egg being there then maybe I can entertain a bit of tit for tat."

You snort at his choice of words."I bet you could." your tone scolding your face on the verge of laughing. "I know the owner. I've been in the house before." you say obviously, your arms crossing across your chest. "But I couldn't get to the floor with the safe as a guest."

"How you know 'im?" he asks, his eyes narrowing.

"Someone that seemed to take a liking to me after I had to distract him for a job once." you explain. "Sometimes I keep in touch if their particular sets of skills might serve me in the future." you explain, calmly.

"Oh, is that what ya doin' with me then?" he teases, giving you a boyish smile.

"I'm not visiting your home, I invited you to live in mine." you state with importance. "Hardly the same thing, dear." you say with a huff of a laugh, tilting your head with a smile as your eyes scold him for the suggestion.

"You might got a point there." he says quietly, sheepish smile as he looks around the room again. "I don't know who bought the egg but I could give you a short list of who it might be if it's in London." he offers, his hands out. "The Italians tend to sale things quickly and therefore a local buyer is usually behind the purchase." he further explains, offering you actual helpful information. Not exactly as advertised but you had agreed to the terms.

"Thank you for saving me the trouble of having to flirt my way for information through the jewelry quarter." you say with a lighthearted laugh. "What do I have to do to get some names from you Solomons?" you ask playfully, leaning back against the set of drawers.

"I can't go giving you the names of all my best buyers now, can I?" a grin, predatory but charming still,  appears and is directed forcefully at you. "I know you're not that thick," you snort at the suggestion of you trying to sneak information out of him. " and I know nothing is free so that's why I asked what I need to do so I can find this person and this egg." your voice is softer in volume but sharper in tone.

"I ain't promisin' nothin'." he shakes his finger at you and your confident grin makes him let out a low groan of a noise at your cheeky stare. "But I will ask about eggs if the opportunity arises." he says hesitantly, narrowing his eyes to make it seem like he wasn't giving in.

"You are going about paying me back for saving you in such a lovely way, Alfie. I told you you were a sweetie." you say with a cocky grin, your hand trailing across his chest as you move to the other side of the room.

"I think you and I have a different understanding of the word, sweet." he says in a low tone.

"Doubtful." you say in a mysterious little laugh. "If there is one thing we do speak the same language on its jewels, isn't it?" you say with a near lilt in your voice, pulling open a drawer. He wants to ask you what you mean but his eyes and body are currently being ripped towards the diamond and sapphire necklace he's now looking at.

"Hell." he hoarsely whispers out. "You like sapphires, eh?" A very long chain, consisting of diamonds, and a large, flat backed sapphire oval sits suspended.

"I look good in blue, what can I say?" you say oozing with certainty."I've not found an occasion to wear her out yet though." you say as he looks over to you for permission to touch it. You nod with an obvious expression and watch his eyes reflect back the shine of the stones. "Wearing it starkers around the house just doesn't give one the same excitement as wearing it out where others can envy it." you muse for a moment, you speak almost as if you're thinking out loud and he lays the piece back on its velvet cushion. "Would you like to see something besides Sapphires?" you grin with a dramatic flutter of your long lashes up at him.

"There's more?" he asks almost exasperated.

"Oh my god, yes, Alfie." you let out a cackle, one hand to your chest. "You see all these drawers on this side of the room?" you ask, hunching over slightly and running your hands across the top of the one you were standing in front of. "All pieces. Necklaces, earrings, bracelets, rings, did I mention necklaces because I am quite fond of those." you sigh contently, beaming up at him.

"You just keep these all in your closet?" he asks, slightly concerned.

"Well you didn't walk through a normal door to get into this room did you?" you say with a head tilt and a grin. "This room is it's own safe of sorts. Can't just leave these things lying about, ya know." you smile sweetly, twisting your shoulders.

"What's the percentage of purchased and stolen on these?" he smirks and you meet him with your own.

"Does it matter?" you ask cheekily, your shoulder moving up to your chin in exaggeration. You both shake your heads no and share a scrunched expression that turns into a shared laugh as you hold out your hands for him to explore the contents of the shelves.

Pt 16 Don’t Speak (I Came To Make A Bang)