#no I was reading your awful stupid book so that I could argue with you about it over lunch | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ohmygraves · 3 months

Note

Hello! I've got a little writing idea if you want to do it. Reader and the rest of 141 are at a bar and reader keeps getting hit on throughout the night. Ghost/Soap getting jealous and feeling protective/possessive over reader and intervene. Just a little bit of a guard dog trope really. Scary man privileges. Hope this sounds a little interesting to do, have a good day :)

hello!!! thank you sm for the idea 💖🫶🏻 please enjoy this humble writing, i love the idea 💛 i wasn't sure if i want to do it with ghost or soap so i did both lol have a good day yourself!

scary dog privilege — ghost/reader/soap

warnings: creepy guy being pushy, alcohol mention, swearing

your little outing at the bar tonight seems to be quite unsuccessful.

actually, no, someone else would argue that you had a very successful day at the bar, since you're currently being hit on left and right by the other patrons. that's the purpose of a bar, right? to maybe find someone to kiss or hook up with one night, and hopefully not catch anything along the way.

but no, you're actually getting quite annoyed right now, as you want nothing more than to sit back, relax, and just get a few drinks with your friends from work. that's all. you want nothing to do with these people who want to get into your pants, or even ask you what's under it.

after a job well done, your captain had wanted to treat the team a few drinks to celebrate. this gets everyone excited, especially because he's not giving any price limits, and he's quite generous. besides, who would miss out on getting free drinks?

maybe you, because you're actually thinking if it was better if you'd just stayed behind, maybe read a book or watch some movies. hell, you could've even spent time at the shooting range, which you actually hated! (because ghost would nitpick at every single thing you did wrong when shooting, and he won't leave you alone until you get it right)

poor you, being such a people pleaser, not wanting to offend the person trying to hit on you, giving them a chance to speak and you'd listen attentively before turning them down because you're not here to hook up, you're here for some drinks and maybe to catch up with your friends. work has been so awful lately that the five of you haven't had the chance to even speak about anything other than mission, work, training... it's slowly getting annoying.

unfortunately, it seems like the others are not so interested in catching up, seemingly leaving to do their own thing. gaz went to the bathroom after downing a few pints, captain went out for a smoke as it is a non-smoking bar, and ghost and soap were somewhere near the billiard table, competing for something stupid again likely. and you? you're left alone in the booth the team always sat in, alone, taking sips of your drink waiting for kyle to come back from his pee break.

you've turned down two men so far, who fortunately was smart enough to sense that you're uninterested in their idea of a good time. you have to admit, you felt quite bad turning them down, especially since they seem to be quite courteous.

this fucking bloke, however...

he was very drunk, very pushy when talking to you. you could literally smell the alcohol off of his breath, it was a surprise that no one has tried to kick him out yet. he kept pestering you, trying to sit beside you and touching you, and your politeness is growing thin everytime he tried to get you to drink with him. you tried to tell him you're not interested, but he was too drunk to even register a "no", apparently.

seriously, where the hell is kyle? why does he need to piss out his two pints of beer immediately after drinking them?

you cursed at kyle, wondering which bathroom he went to for his pee break. did he go to the bathroom in the fucking philippines or something, what's taking him so long?

quickly, someone else scooted over beside you, leaning against your shoulder. soap.

"aye, this lad bothering yer, hen?" he asked you, arms slung behind your shoulder. you thanked whatever gods sent him your way.

the man who tried to hit on you seemed offended, was about to give soap a piece of his mind, before he was yanked out of the way by ghost, thrown aside down on the floor. it made a huge commotion, people were now looking at you.

ghost sat down quietly in front of you — where the man just sat after he tried to touch you, "reckon we should give him 'piece o' our mind, johnny?" he asked the scot.

"mmmaybe. what yer think, lt?"

now the man was fuming, being humiliated in front of the bar when he was trying to flirt with someone?

to make matters worse, now soap decided to kiss you!

he gently held your face, pressing his lips against yours, and to make it believable, even slipped his tongue in-between your lips, his eyes glaring at the drunk bloke. the man who tried to flirt with you was dumbfounded, too surprised to even say anything.

soap pulled away from you for a moment, letting you catch your breath. but before you could say anything, ghost pulled you over the table, his hands gripping your collar as he kissed you too, following what soap did, but much more intense. you didn't even see him pulling his mask up.

"see? lass's taken. shoo." soap held you close after you kissed ghost, basically telling the guy to fuck off. somehow, he left, still fuming though at the two guys who claimed you just like that.

you? you were a little dazed. confused. whatever. your two work mates kissed you after saving you from a random bloke who did not know what no means because he was too drunk off his arse. and strangely enough you didn't mind, they were the best kisses you've ever gotten in your life.

"why'd you two kiss me?" you asked, somehow. you felt stupid right after asking, clearly the answer was to help you get away from that creep!

ghost let out a sigh, taking a sip of his own glass of bourbon. "think we did ya a favor there, love."

you thanked both of them, but you still feel soap's hand squeezing your size, pulling you close to him.

"ye see, lass, can't have 'nother blether hittin' on ye."

you didn't seem to mind, you were getting tired and too drunk to even care. at least you're safe with them.

soap lets you lay your head on his shoulder, talking to ghost about something as you three waited for price and gaz to return.

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remusslove · 1 year

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Secret~ hermione granger

𝐈𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞𝐬: 𝐬𝐥𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐧!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐨𝐨𝐭𝐡 𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲~ 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐚 𝐬𝐚𝐥𝐚𝐳𝐚𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐥 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐢𝐭 𝐚𝐥𝐥, 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐧 𝐬𝐞𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐭.

“Hey babe, whatchu doin?” You said casually before walking into her room plopping on her bed with a sigh. “Nothing, and my mom and mrs Weasley are going to be here in half an hour, so I suggest you shouldn’t be here.” She said, her nose buried into her new book.

“Good I have thirty minutes with you then” you said snatching the book out of his hands before placing kisses on her face. “that was a fourty dollar book! Just because you don’t care about your education doesn’t mean I don’t care about mine!” She protested as you rolled your eyes.

“So? I could steal you ten more of those anyway. Besides, your always reading it and never talk to me anymore.” You replied standing up and beginning to fidget with his book collection.

“You have another cat? I didn’t know that.” You said in amusement as the Siamese cat waltzed into the room and into her arms. “Because you never ask. And I just got her yesterday” she said petting its fur as it purred and stretched its body.

“Well how am I supposed to know if you never even talk to me during break and stuff! It’s like I’m invisible!” You exclaimed dramatically making her roll her eyes. “Oh please don’t act like your not with mattheo and Theodore and Blaise and that stupid girl that’s always fawning over you” she argued.

“That’s why your ignoring me? Because of Pansy?” You asked teasingly raising and eyebrow with a smirk. “Don’t act dumb y/n. You know she likes you, especially when she uses that for awful baby voice infront of you. “Oh y/n your so funny!” She said mockingly in a high pitched voice.

You laughed before placing a kiss on her cheek and laying down next to her. “I love it when your jealous, it’s so adorable” you teased grabbing one of the main books off the table by her bed. “Whatever. If I see you talking to pug face Pansy once we get to hogwarts I’m not giving you any homework answers for a month.”

“Have it your way mrs.salazar” “I’m not taking that last name if we get married.” She replied to your comment making you groan playfully. “Come onnn, how good does that sound? Hermione Salazar. Sounds fucking awesome.” You commented forcing her to hide a smile.

“Besides, it’s not like your parents would even think of you with a slytherin. Especially after reading the prophet.” “Well if I didn’t know you I would think the same thing. You don’t have such a great reputation.” She said making you scoff.

The prophet just released information by Rita skeeter about you supposedly, “a couple of steps from becoming your great grandfather” because you got into a fight with a gryffindor boy twice your size and still won.

“It was a just a little fight, nothing to crazy.” You shrugged it off causing her to look at you with wide eyes. “Just a fight? You broke two of his ribs, his hand, his nose and left him a bloody eye!” She exclaimed.

“he called you a slut, case closed. And I looked hot with a bloody nose don’t cha think?” You teased. “Oh please. That ego of yours is gonna get you killed one day.” She laughed.

#hermione granger #hermione x you #hermione x reader #Hermione granger x you #Hermione granger x reader #hermione granger imagine

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skyward-floored · 11 months

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Short little Incredibles au thing I’ve had lying around and decided to just finish up, based on many many dumb arguments I’ve had with my siblings.

Ao3

————————————————————

“Legend!” Wild sing-songed as he zipped into the living room “Legend I’m done picking up my clothes! Do you want to race? Or go see if there’s frogs out by the creek? Or get Sky to walk us to the park or see if Twilight is done cleaning too or maybe—”

“Wild,” Legend interrupted, giving his brother a grumpy look from over his book. “Not now, I don’t want to play.”

Wild blinked at him, and cocked his head to the side, not computing.

“But you’re just reading, and you have been like all afternoon! Don’t you want to do something else?” he asked, and Legend glared at him.

“No, I do not. I’m perfectly happy here Wild, leave me alone.”

“Aw come on Legend, please?” Wild said with a bright smile.

“No.”

“Pretty please?”

“No.”

“Pretty pretty please with sugar on top and chocolate frosting and fruit and candy and sprinkles?”

Legend didn’t bother verbally replying that time, merely shoving his nose further in his book after sending a withering glare towards Wild.

Wild, for his part, stomped his foot at being ignored, and shoved his face up right next to Legend’s, staring at him with as intense of a glare as he could manage.

Legend acted like he wasn’t even there.

...So Wild jumped on him.

Legend yelped as his book went flying, his brother almost knocking over the chair he was sitting in. He turned invisible when Wild jumped, but since his clothes were still in view, Wild was able to pounce on him and try to pull him off the chair.

“Wild! I said no!” Legend yelled, and rolled over, trying to shove Wild off of him. “Get off!”

Wild didn’t reply, and the two of them tussled for a minute, both trying to get the upper hand.

“Come on Wild! Stop it!” Legend growled after another minute, giving his brother a hard shove. “Can’t you leave me alone for five minutes?! You’re the most annoying brother ever!”

“You’re the most annoying brother ever!” Wild shot back with a obnoxious grin, completely undeterred.

“On Opposite Day,” Legend snapped back.

“Takes one to know one!”

“In your dreams.”

“In your dreams!”

“In your dreams times infinity!”

“In your dreams times infinity plus one!”

“GUYS,” Sky shouted, and the two of them immediately froze. Somehow Sky had come up behind them without either boy noticing, and was now looking down at the two, hands on his hips with a furrow to his brow.

It was rare that Sky raised his voice, but when he did, he meant business.

“That’s enough. What on earth are you two fighting about?” Sky asked, and Legend and Wild began talking over each other, accompanied by accusations and pointing fingers.

Sky looked between the two as they got louder and louder, and abruptly snapped out his wings, the loud noise silencing the two.

“Look. You guys aren’t supposed to fight with each other,” Sky said gently, but Wild and Legend continued to glare.

“He started it,” Legend huffed, and Wild balled up his fists.

“I did not! You did when you said you wanted to just read your stupid book instead of-!”

“Guys,” Sky interrupted again, and the two went silent. “I actually came in here to tell you to quiet down because Twilight has a headache. Your arguing is just going to make it worse,” he said, and Wild and Legend looked at each other, then down the hall.

“He does?” Wild asked more quietly, and Sky nodded.

“Yes. Yelling won’t help him at all, and you shouldn’t be yelling inside anyways,” he said sternly, but then his voice softened. “And you shouldn’t fight with Legend either. Find something else to do Wild, okay? Leave Legend be.”

Wild frowned. “But he keeps—”

“No means no, buddy,” Sky said pointedly, but gave him a smile. “But that goes for you too Legend. You can’t always say no to Wild.”

Legend mumbled a response, but Sky merely took it in stride and nodded.

“Come on Wild, let’s go outside and let Twilight have some quiet time,” Sky said, taking his hand. “And Legend.”

“Fine,” Wild mumbled, and let Sky take guide him outside with a wing. He couldn’t resist sticking his tongue out at Legend before he went though, giving him a loud pbbbth.

Legend merely rolled his eyes, and went back to his book.

#incredibles au #linkeduniverse #linked universe #lu Wild #lu legend #lu Sky #writing from the floor #don’t think it really needs a readmore #long post #Wild gets to be a brat #as a treat #feeling very bleh about like all of my writing ever but I’m posting this anyway for some reason #incredibles au fic

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writtenjewels · 10 months

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Joke Book

The “party” for his birthday was a subdued affair this year. Growing up, Jason had learned not to expect a big celebration-- his family could never afford much-- and by the time he was grown up it just didn't matter to him anymore. As long as he had his sister and his friends over, it was all the party he needed.

One by one he went through the presents, thanking everyone for what they gave him. He saved Salim's to last and his heart pounded as he picked it up. Salim sat up a little straighter in his chair and watched hopefully as Jason tore through the wrapping. Jason caught his eye and smiled at him; he got an answering smile in return. The last of the wrapping was pulled away and Jason paused, frowning at the gift.

“What's this?”

“A book,” Salim responded.

“I know that, smart-ass.” A book was the absolute last thing Jason ever expected to get for a birthday present. He had no idea what to make of it. He turned the volume over in his hands in confusion. It was a book on puns, riddles, and other jokes.

“You like my jokes so much,” Salim explained, his smile fading a little uncertainly, “that I thought you might enjoy a book about them.”

“Thanks,” was all Jason could say. He knew it wasn't nearly enough and from the look on Salim's face, the other caught that, too. Penny decided now was a good time to clear up the wrapping paper so they could have coffee and cake.

A little while later, Salim stepped outside for a smoke. Jason made sure his guests were all entertaining themselves before following.

“Can't believe you survived fuckin' aliens just to gunk up your lungs with that shit,” Jason huffed.

“I know.” Salim exhaled a puff of smoke. “It isn't like you to be so polite, Jason. You could have just said so if you didn't like my gift.”

“It ain't that I didn't like it,” Jason argued. He stared out into the distance searching for the right words. “It's just… I don't laugh 'cause I like the jokes. I laugh 'cause of the way you tell 'em. They won't be funny if I just read the book.” Salim went still, and Jason worried he explained it wrong. Maybe if he tried another approach. “Why did Hamlet feel sorry for Yorik?”

“I don't know.” Salim's brow knitted in confusion. “Why?”

“He was getting a head of himself.” Salim let out a soft laugh, and Jason grinned, nudging him. “See? That's what I mean about your jokes.”

“Are my jokes really that terrible?”

“Most of the time, yeah.” Jason smirked at him before adding, “Sometimes they're even worse. But I laugh 'cause I like when you tell them.” Salim's smile widened, his gaze almost tender. The look made Jason's heart beat a little faster. “Anyway, thanks for the gift.”

“You're welcome.” That tenderness was still in Salim's gaze. “I only gave it to you because I like when you smile and laugh.” Jason wet his lips, suddenly nervous. It felt like they were confessing something more to each other.

“I better go back inside. Try not to give yourself more lung cancer.”

“I promise that the only thing smoking will be your candles on the birthday cake.”

“Like I said,” Jason snorted, unable to stop the smile on his face, “your jokes are awful.” Salim's eyes twinkled back at him and Jason had to hurry away before the other man noticed the blush starting to rise on Jason's face.

That stupid joke book turned out to be his favorite birthday present yet.

#jalim #jason x salim #jason kolchek x salim othman #jason/salim #salim othman #jason kolchek #house of ashes

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unicyclehippo · 2 years

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reading a book together, or trying to?

'we saved the world,' robin says, tone strident but oddly muffled.

nancy squints over at her. she's collapsed onto the living room floor, stolen couch cushions padding the area around her, and - honestly, so dramatic - her book open and laid onto her face. nancy rolls her eyes and hides a smile behind her copy of the same book. she's glad, suddenly, that eddie couldn't make it to their study session; she doesn't need his all-too knowing eyes on her as she struggles not to feel fond of robin buckley.

'we did.'

'multiple times.'

'yes.'

'that should earn us a - a pass or something. like, hey, congrats and thanks for saving the world, you don't have to read this stupid book about stupid men.'

'it's a classic.'

'it's shit, nancy. it's shit and i'm bored.'

nancy taps the end of her pencil against her book, glances at the clock hanging over the archway. 'we could do something else,' she offers, not quite recognising the words as she says them.

robin, however, not only recognises the words but comes alive at the sound of them. she shoots up onto her feet - freezes in place for a second, hands outstretched, as she seems to fight a bout of dizziness - before fixing nancy with a bright smile.

'yes!' she declares.

'yes?'

'yes, nancy wheeler, we should do something else. what should we do?'

the question throws nancy for a loop. she's quite accustomed to her routine - school, studying or working at the newspaper, wrestling herself into her bed at some impossibly late hour, and then starting all over again. there's been such scant time for something else that she hardly knows what to suggest.

'we could...watch a movie?'

'boo,' robin heckles immediately. 'no. i work at a video store, i watch movies all the time. try again.'

nancy folds her arms over her chest. 'i'm not going to suggest anything if you yell boo at me.'

'i won't do it again,' robin promises sweetly, a glimmer of mischief in her eyes, 'if you suggest something good.'

nancy's jaw drops. she splutters for a second. 'that's - you're so rude, robin buckley.'

'don't be a coward, nancy wheeler,' she shoots back. 'go on,' she says, and nods encouragingly like nancy is some child who needs her hand held, 'try again. unless you're chicken.'

'i'm not-' nancy forces herself to relax, seeing the glimmer in robin's eyes is a full blown light now, thrilled to see nancy so wound up. 'we could go on a walk.'

'terrible.'

'put together a puzzle.'

'what are we, seventy?'

'bake something.'

at that, robin fully laughs. she waves a hand when nancy scowls. 'no, no, i'm laughing at me this time. trust me when i say you do not want me in your kitchen.'

nancy imagines robin in her kitchen now. flour in her face, an expression of utmost concentration as she measures out ingredients. it makes nancy's stomach drop as her imaginary kitchen dissolves, replaced by another that looks an awful lot like steve's kitchen, and memory mixes with imagination, super-imposes the vision of robin seated on the countertop, legs open. in her mind, nancy steps up between her legs. in her mind, nancy kisses sugar from her lips - steve had made pancakes for all of them, and nancy spent the rest of the day knowing exactly what the swipe of strawberry and sugar in the corner of robin's lips tasted like. in her mind, it is easy and sweet and ends in the disaster robin promised her. she wants it anyway.

'no,' nancy says, voice distant and odd. she knows it is odd because robin frowns at her from across the room. 'no baking. okay. swimming?' she says, because that's what people do on hot afternoons, and she blanches.

'no,' robin says simply.

nancy looks away. 'we could - go to the music store. find something new to listen to.'

robin closes her eyes. 'yes. yes. finally, nancy, a perfect plan. yes. okay - i have so many ideas, you have no idea how desperately you need to improve your taste in music -'

'i said something new, robin, for the both of us,' she argues, even as she leaves all her things on the table, picks up her keys and purse and jacket and leaves everything else behind. robin is already at the door, hopping on one leg as she tugs her foot into her converse.

'you need culture!'

'you need to appreciate the classics.'

'you need to get away from all the rules,' robin shoots back, throwing a challenging look at nancy over the roof of her car, hands pressed against the top of it, stopping herself from getting in. 'try something totally different and radical and - and fun.' she sends nancy a funny look, admiring and prying all at once. 'i think you might be a bit of a freak.'

'i'm - robin! i'm not a freak!'

'but you could be,' robin says, and nods firmly. 'we just have to - get a little wild.'

nancy scoffs. throws open the driver's door and sits. she waits for robin to slide in next to her and says, 'i'm not getting wild.'

'i think you will.'

'no.'

'yeah, i think you will,' robin says again, very sure of herself.

nancy glances sidelong at her, takes in the way she slouches back against the passenger door, half turned to the windshield, half turned toward nancy. one leg drawn up onto the seat already and fingers reaching out for the glovebox to flip through the cassettes she has stashed within.

'i'm not getting wild,' she mutters, but the words have no heat in them, and robin just smiles over at her - stupidly pretty, stupidly sweet. 'do your seatbelt.'

#st tag #ronance #robin and nancy my beloveds #short prompt

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cosmic-glow · 2 years

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Hey, about the drabbles, how about the 22 for Eddie?? If that's okay for you, of course. I love your writing, have a nice day ;)

Notes: Aw, thanks lovely! I love Eddie so I hope you enjoy the drabble, good reading!

Drabbles Game:

"Why do you only call me when you’re high?" - Eddie Munson Drabble

Warnings: gn!reader; bad language; drug mentions (duh); SFW.

The clock on the wall read 7:50 pm as you recall, night was already imminent on that cold autumn day. There was a thick fog outside your bedroom window, you smiled as you remembered it was the perfect setting for a horror movie and turned your focus to the book in your hands, and at almost the same moment the phone rang downstairs. A chill quickly ran down your spine, you were alone in the house, it was already getting dark and there was a fog that didn't allow you to see the other side of the street from your house, much less between the trees in the forest, the scenery was almost the same as in the movie Panic. “Stop being an idiot, Y/n. It's just the damn phone” - you thought, trying to calm down before heading down the stairs.

"Hello?" - you said when you answered before it rang again, already looking out the window, but it was useless, you couldn't see anything but the porous white in the night. No one answered, which made you even more anxious, already mentally cursing at the thought that it could be a damn prank by some stupid child in boredom. "Hello?!" - you repeated, already impatient.

- Ah… - the person sighed on the other end of the line - Hi, Y/n, what are you doing, cutie? - he said softly.

You recognized the voice and were relieved for a brief moment before getting annoyed at how apprehensive you were a few seconds ago at his delay in responding.

- What do you want, Eddie? - You said closing the curtain and going to the living room sofa. - Hey, what's up? Were you waiting for someone's call to get so annoyed with mine? - He laughed and the call squeaked a little. - No, I didn't expect anyone's call actually, it's late. - Late? You should hang out with me more, then you'd know it's never too late - He laughed again, a half-silly, airy laugh, which made you suspicious at the same moment. - Eddie… are you high? - you don't know what in your sentence was comical but the man laughed a lot on the other end of the line. - I'm always high my love, I thought you'd gotten used to it - and this time you could hear him taking another drag.

You sat on the couch and let out a long sigh, wondering whether or not he had exaggerated this time, worrying for him since he didn't. “Y/n? Are you still there?" - he said, finding your silence strange.

- I am… can I ask you another question, Eddie? - Of course, beautiful - he let out the smoke he was holding in his lungs - whatever you want. - Why do you only call me when you’re high?

Munson watched the smoke that left his lips join the dense fog of the night and disappear into the starry sky, thinking about your question a smile formed on his lips. Why did he always call you? He held the cigarette between his icy fingers, his only source of warmth against that cold night wind, close to his lips, the answer was so obvious.

- Because you're the only person I can't forget even when I high, but you're also the only person I can only talk to without stuttering if I'm high, that's why I always call you. - … And is there anything in particular you want to talk to me about that you need to be high for? - you said after a long pause. - Well that depends… - Depends on what? - Your answer be "yes". - But I don't even know what it is! - You laughed. - So I don't talk, I'm not that high yet - he argued. - Okay, I say yes then - you gave in. - ... Want to go out with me this Friday?

You couldn't help but laugh before saying anything.

- Yes, Eddie, I do. - Great… great - he repeated, trying to convince himself of what just happened. You couldn't see it but you knew Eddie was smiling at that moment, a silly, naive smile just like the one on your face.

Sorry for any typos;

Masterlist;

Drabbles Game;

Buy me a coffee?

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mzannthropy · 1 year

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My favourite scene from DJATS is still the "pick up your kid" one with Camila and Billy. Also the balcony one with Camila and Billy. In a show that's all about a rock band, I seem to prefer the non-band parts.

Also bc Sam Claflin is the reason I knew DJATS existed in the first place. Had he not been cast, it's unlikely I would ever have picked up the book. (I'd read a book from music/entertainment industry setting, but, like, contemporary.) What I saw from him on this show was some of his best acting. And that definitely includes the above mentioned scenes. Apparently, when Sam and Camila Morrone were doing a test of the pick-up-your-kid scene, TJR was there and it moved her so much, she said: "I don't care if he can sing, give him the role." All the Billy and Camila scenes felt were organic and natural, which I can't say about Billy's scenes with Daisy. The scenes in which they worked together, maybe, but not the ones the writers were shoving down the viewers' throats in order to make us see what an amazing cONneCtIoN they had. That argument after the press conference is the worst offender. Gods, it was so awful and so forced, it was as if they were performing for the tabloid media. Nobody argues with their faces that close together. Therefore, I'm confident it never happened. Daisy was on drugs most of the time, she was pining for Billy, she's hardly reliable. Same with the look across the room when someone was talking about "soulmates" or whatever. It was just so stupid. (Unreliable narrator works both ways. Julia still has a product to sell. Dramatic licence. People want to hear the juicy stuff.)

Even the ending. A phonecall would have been enough, and would have honoured Camila's wish. But no, again, they had to beat the viewers over their heads with the D/B hammer, bc clearly they think we're all stupid and have no imagination. But then, many people are stupid and have no imagination...

Why the writers made these choices, whether they wanted to appease the D/B shippers, or are D/B shippers themselves, we might never know. My spicy take is that they had to, otherwise the story wouldn't work. A man with a wife like Camila and a daughter he loves is not going to leave his family for a junkie. But they wanted us to believe he would. That's why they had him relapse on the day of the Chicago concert.

But also, whatever I say doesn't matter. You do you. I'm not in this fandom and don't wish to be. I listen to the songs bc I like them and bc it's Sam singing (I had no idea prior to this he could sing). If more people discovered his talent, that's a good thing. Feel free to hit me up if you want recs. Peace out.

#sam claflin #djats #billy dunne #billy x camila #samblogging #mypost

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eldritchsurveys · 6 months

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1145.

Last Best and Final Survey by foxandforest

Is there anything that you continue to do despite always regretting it/paying for it later? Why won’t you give it up? >> there really isn't anything like that for me and I don't think anything that truly felt awful after doing would be something I continued doing. like, I just don't have the impulse to do things that feel that bad, even if the badness is delayed. this sounds great but unfortunately the aversion applies universally -- so it also applies to having to do things that feel bad the whole time but do have a payoff, like, you know, chores

What was the last “unpopular opinion” you saw that gave you a visceral oppositional reaction? >> this happens to me so regularly that I don't even mark the occasion anymore so I have no idea. like even if I agree with the opinion sometimes my mind will be like "well now I'm gonna argue for the opposite opinion" for no reason except pettiness lol

Do you feel the need to do and see a lot of different things in life—as in having as much of a full and varied life as possible? >> hmm. sometimes, but like... as a reaction to feeling activated. like, when my nervous system is out of whack it just reaches for every possible thing to show me how my life is Bad and Sad and Not Enough, and "you need to Do More" is low-hanging fruit in that regard. but I don't actually believe I need to do and see a bunch of stuff in order to feel fulfilled, I just think that at the moment, I'm not getting the things I do need to feel fulfilled I do enjoy interacting with a lot of different art/media, though, I feel like that enriches my life

What was the last thing you lost your fucking mind over—something so awful or stupid you couldn’t believe it? .

What are some books you’re interested in reading soon? >> eh, idk. the most recent book I added to my tbr is Butcher & Blackbird by Brynne Weaver

What’s an item of clothing you think your wardrobe lacks and would benefit from? >> that's a question I've been asking myself repeatedly especially after having done the wardrobe cleanout (finally). the fact of the matter is I have a hard time actually envisioning what kind of clothes I want (aside from fantastical ass shit that I'd either have to make myself or pay someone oodles of money to make), I just know I definitely do not have enough for my comfort

What is an old person, out-of-touch, things were better in my day, etc. thought you’ve had? >> I had that feeling when Sparrow was telling me about the state of youth literacy these days (good reminder, I meant to do some research about that because what the fuck is going on) (ok I looked it up and this article elaborates more on it while also reassuring me that there's been backlash at least)

What is the worst (i.e., lowest paying, poorly compensated based on intensity of work, etc.) way you’ve ever made money? >> begging the government for pennies so I can avoid starving or freezing to death

Do you have anything going on that could be your signature look, such as always having the same go-to hairstyle or lip color or anything? >> my battle vest is my signature, I think

What is something that you used to put a lot of effort into but not anymore? >> bios/about pages/that sort of thing on social media

If you have children, what are some things you want to make sure they experience or have the chance to experience if they desire? .

On a scale from 1 to 10 how much confidence do you have in your country’s government? When was the last time this number was different? >> I have no confidence in the US government and I don't recall ever feeling otherwise

What is something that a lot of people do that you don’t find the value in? >> a lot of social rituals feel like this for me, like I just don't see the benefit. I don't mean like small talk and shit, I mean like going out to bars and drinking a lot and then feeling like shit the next day but you do it because your friends wanted you to or whatever

Do you ever think about quitting taking surveys? What about just quitting taking them on LJ? >> nah. I mean, I think about it in the abstract, because I've been taking them for literally half my life and that sometimes strikes me as pretty wild, but I know if I haven't gotten bored with the practice by now I probably won't any time soon. I think it would be real neat to be still taking surveys in my 50s, 60s... like, I don't keep diaries well, but I do have these! they serve a similar purpose, I think -- sometimes even better than just open-ended journalling as far as quitting taking them on LJ specifically -- yeah, lol, I was thinkin about that last week in fact. mostly because I am on the fringes community-wise and generally don't get much interaction so there's no real benefit to posting in one place vs another, so I tend to come and go at whim I was gonna just go back to my survey tumblr but I think I'll do the secret third thing and post in both places. I have no actual reasoning for this decision except "fuck it, why not" which is the best reason to do anything

#survey #random survey

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moonlightdancer26 · 2 years

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why the heck do marauder stans hate dumbledore so much???? I see some arguments that dumbledore should’ve taken Harry to hogwarts instead of the dureslys? which doesn’t make any sense because 1. its a school, and who would be there to take care of Harry? 2. The only reason he was with the dureslys was because of blood wards that prevented him from getting found out by DEs and Voldemort and everyone from james side wad dead

which was smart because Ann and Frank got tortured after Voldemort disappeared so imagine what would’ve happened to Harry if he was put with literally anybody else

They also act like it was only Dumbledores fault that sirius got imprisoned and saying dumbledore ‘always has a say’ and he was more powerful that the minister of magic????

like mf were we reading the same book??? I can name several things where he said something and no one did shit + threatened him for it

theres also the thing thT Remus didn’t say anything to dumbledore about Sirius not rattling them out because both of them know Sirius is very fully capable of murder like when he tried to murder snape because he existed or smth

If remus did I feel that would be relevant and Remus never said anything about Sirius being an anigamus too for some reason

anyways sorry because I started ranting and probably sounding confusing

good day 👍

I’ve asked myself that same question for god knows how long, anon.

All their arguments are very irritating. The main reason I seek out Dumbles-defence and defend him for some of his actions is because of this very reason. Marauder stans’ arguments stem from bias and pursuing to avert the blame, but the funny thing is I’ve seen them blame him for things he had absolutely nothing to do with. I genuinely have no idea what they hold against him so much. I say all this as a Dumbledore hater (I consider myself more of a skeptic but that’s not the point), he did do a lot of things in canon that undeniably deserve criticism, but 97% of the things this fandom the Marauders fandom hate him for are far-fetched and are not canon. For the most part, I can only ever accept Dumbles bashing from Snape fans.

I do agree that he should’ve done something about the Dursleys’ abuse (seriously, screw him for that), but Harry still had to stay there for the blood protection. He most certainly should not have left baby!Harry unattended for a decade with people whom he knew were awful, but Harry had to stay. Dumbledore didn’t want Harry to know of the Wizarding World’s existence before he turned 11.

And no, it was not Dumbledore’s fault. Sure, you could argue he had something to do with it, but you can’t pin the blame solely on him. There were many catalysts for James and Lily’s death and Sirius’s imprisonment—most of all Voldemort and Peter. Dumbles had a lot less power in the Wizarding government than people like to think he did.

Remus not going to Albus and not begging for a trial only further empathises how bad of a person Sirius must’ve been. He was really that bad of a person that EVERYONE—including one of his best friends and the entire OoTP—had no problem believing that Sirius joined Lord Voldemort, betrayed James and Lily to death, and would have murdered baby!Harry too. I mean, it’s not like Sirius denied the crime (that was so stupid of him tbh), but y’all are really telling me that no one thought “huh.. something doesn’t seem right”? Does this fandom not realise how bad that implies Sirius was???

Don’t worry, anon, I get what you’re trying to say. Thank you for your ask, have a nice day.

#how do i tag?#this obviously isn’t anti but it ain’t pro either (?)#idk #ok i’ll tag it as general #albus dumbledore #professor dumbledore #dumbledore #anti marauders stans #anti marauderfen #anti marauder stans #anti snaters #harry potter #hp #ask #asks

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asksuccubussides · 8 months

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What if you were an asexual succubus, wouldn't that be fucked or what Chapter 6

Masterpost of the chapters

'Aight. I told Emile I'd like lost my sunglasses by the balcony so we should have some like alone time now' Remy signed while sitting down beside Remus 'Sooo like what's our game plan?'

"Plan?..Like for destroying the planet or just some casual murder?"

'Girl! For when you gotta go back to earth to feed!' Remy gave him the look equivalent of calling him stupid while making a sound equivalent to "????"

"What!? Prison cells got doors don't they!? If I get caught I'll just go on home to hell! Or I can finally try to gnaw my way out through concrete babbeeeyy!"

'Do you even think you can like feed off a human without like going all killer and trying to eat one again??'

Remus huffed and puffed to pretend to be offended "Uuuuh I'm not a wild animal dude. If anything I should be making detailed plans about how to murder angels!"

Remy tightly held onto their friend's wrist "You're. Not. Going. To. Heaven!"

He pushed them aside and forced their hands off of him "I don't want to feed off humans anymore"

"Oh so you're just like choosing death via starvation then??? yeah sounds like such a totally good idea. Real cool. I guess it¨s more badass then being sent to heaven but it still fucking sucks!" They threw out their arms "There's no other way for you to survive girlie!"

"I'LL MAKE A WAY!"

"Cause your attempt at eating a human went sooo weellll"

Remus opened his mouth and smacked his lips as if he was about to argue back while desperately trying to think of a good argument. He waved his finger around before wheezing out.

"My first try at sex didn't go good either soooo" He shrugged "I mean genitals are kinda fucking weird y'know. No one had told me you couldn't switch genties midway through....Okay somebody had told me not to do it. But I wanted to see what would happen!!"

"Don't remind me. And Girl you're not eating anotha human"

"I won't! You try to eat a human ONE time and suddenly people think it's your favorite hobby! I wasn't even gonna eat All of them! Just a few parts!"

Remus spun around and tapped his feet like he was about to leave when Remy asked "Do you think you can...you want to like....feed on a human ever again?" He didn't answer "If you really can't like take the whole sex with humans thing anymore I'm like totally sure I can like help you..." They rolled their eyes slightly while moving their hand as if to make their point more obvious "Like if fucking a friend is like better"

"Dude I'd rather chew on your foot and then regurgitate it onto the floor. I-" Remus nervously plucked at scabs on his hands, He had already bitten his nails down to the point they bleed "Whatever. I need to go read up on how to kill angels!"

"Should you tell Roman?"

Remus just waved their question off as he hurried to leave the room. He did a big point of sulking and slouching with his hands deep in his pockets and his curls falling down in front of his eyes as he walked towards the library of the succubus quarters.

There was no way Roman could know. Aside from her being terrible at keeping secrets, the worry would tear her apart....And what if she ratted him out to the manager. What if she hated him that much.

The succubi library was sparse and small. There were a few bookshelfs and a table in the middle of the room with a tiny pitiful lamp. The chair wasn't even comfartable and of course the entire room was drenched in that awful white color every room in the succubi quarters seemed to be. The books weren't even categorised in any way!

His eyes wandered over the book spines and most of them seemed to be written by demons. Some biographies and memoirs from the pride circle, self help and weight loss books from the envy circle, a book about crypto from the greed circle. Though honestly most of them were clearly just self indulged dream projects.

The image of a lone demon quietly writing away under the covers at night came up as soon as Remus grabbed at some silly adventure book or short novel about love.

Finally he managed to find some factual books but most of them were about sex. Safe sex, dangerous sex, radiactive sex. All the kind.

All of a sudden it started to feel like something was pressing down on Remus' chests but he didn't know why. It got hard to breathe and his sight got blurry but he tried to ignore it and just keep looking for information on angels but he couldn't find anything. he couldn't see anything.

The taste of human flesh filled his mouth again as his stomach turned.

"Rem-bem? I didn't even know you knew where the library was" Emile's airy voice followed by a chuckle made Remus nearly jump out of his skin. "Have you seen my honeybun's sunlgasses? They said they'd lost them somewhere around here"

His eyes twitched as he turned to look at Emile "I-" He tried to keep his breathing as stable as possible but his voice still shook "I'm- I-"

Emile moved forward and gently put his hand against Remus' forehead "You look like you're running a fever. When was the last time you ate?"

Remus parsed his lips to say that he'd eaten enough but all he could get out was more shakey words before finally gasping out "I'm going to die"

"Please, modern medicine makes a fever hardly anything to die over. Let's sit you down"

He helped Remus to the uncomfortable chair next to the table before jumping up to sit on the table. He kicked his feet mindlessly over the edge of the table while patting his friend's hand. Remus dug his fingernails into Emile's hand.

"You know anything about angels?" He spat out between ragged breathes.

Emile let out a forced laugh "Only as much as any other demon would know"

His nails pierced through their skin "Remy always says they like angels. They think they're cute. Even the wings. Rem gets like all of their info from you, you gotta know something"

"Pff, they don't get ALL of their information from me. I know absolutely nothing about sleeping like a sloth for example! I didn¨t know snor mimimi meant sleep! They taught me that"

"I just need to know something- anything about them!"

Emile cupped his cheeks "Has something happened?"

"I want to kill them....I...don't want to go. I don't want to go!"

He brought Remus into a hug and let his head rest against his own chest as Rem kept shaking. he didn't have to say anything more, in that instant Emile knew he had done something irrevercable.

"I think Roman said he was going to come back to hell around noon so he should be here soon" Emile said while combing their hand through Remus' uneven hair "Do you want us to talk to her about this whole situation?"

Remus shook his head without moving away from the hug.

"Okay...That's okay. We can tell her at some other time. It's okay buddy" Emile stared at the white walls while thinking "...Angels aren't as scary as the gossip makes them sound like. They're just like demons. An angel would have been in just as much danger if they were suddenly dropped into hell as we would be if we got sent up there"

"I don't wanna go"

"I'm not going to let you-"

Emile suddenly quieted and held his hand lightly over Remus' mouth. His eyes darted around as he listened for something. Until he just as suddenly started pushing on for Remus to go.

'Hide!' Emile signed in a hurry.

Remus ran to the corner of the room and hunched down behind one of the bookcases. He pressed himself as close as he could to the ground and held his breathe. From between the gaps in the books he could see Emile grabbing the closest book and flipping it open to pretend to read it.

It took a moment until Remus heard it. The distant sound of footsteps approaching with the kind of weight behind it no succubi had. He held his breathe and listened to the door to the library creak as it opened. Light shone in but it didn't reach his corner.

The light turned into a light hue of orange as the manager stepped into the room. Out of the corner of Remus' eye he could see the tall six armed demon walk up to Emile. He'd never seen them in the same room together before, Remy had always been so sure about telling Emile to not join them in their meetings.

A sick feeling started in Remus' mouth and clogged it's way down his throat until it filled his entire chest as he wondered why The Manager was in the succubi quarters when there wasn't a meeting. He knew why but he tried to pretend like he was still asking why.

"Oh..." There was a surpised tone to the manager's voice, nearly bordering on disappointed "Hello. Aren't you Remy's little pet? The traitor? I thought you would have been discarded and dead by now"

"I'm reading and you a disrupting me" Emile loudly slammed his book shut "So if you could be a dear and leave that would be nice"

"Well I am looking for the angry twin. You should know who I mean if you know Remy. Have you seen him" It was said as less of a question and more in the harsh tone of an order.

"You're not my manager so therefore hmm" The sound of Emile clicking his tongue and pretending to think came "That means I don't have to answer to you!"

There was a sudden slam like a fist hitting a table. Remus turned his hands into tight fists in case Emile needed his help. Instead he heard a low hissing sentence coming from the manager, as if he was pulling the words from deep in his throat.

"Yes you damn do! One word from me and you slut and that deaf idiot is getting-"

"They're my lover" Emile's smile could practically be heard.

Another slam into the table "I am very aware of how hard your kind has when it comes to lying convicingly so you will tell me where the twin is and you won't even try to trick me because I already know you know"

Emile tilted his head "Which twin was it you were looking for now again?"

"You know damn well which one!"

"It's not his fault your squadron is so low ranked. It was low ranked even when I got here. I think you're just putting the blame onto him so you have a reason to let your blatant anger issues out" Emile was laying on the sickingly sweet therapy like voice extra thick.

A loud sound came but Remus couldn't understand what it was. He shifted ever so slight to the left and began to crawl along the floor trying to get closer to the other two.

"If you know I know anyhow why do you even have to ask me" Emile continued "Unless you only want to make me throw my friend under the bus to have a way of controlling me"

The manager lowered his voice "The only reason you and Remy are still alive is because killing someone like you wasn't beneficial! But it's been decades Emile! You really think anyone remembers you. Really think anybody would care if you were killed"

"I wouldn't want to live with myself if I hurt a friend like that anyhow"

"Would you rather live without Remy then"

A beat passed and then a sudden scream from Emile. Like nothing Remus had ever heard from him before.

"NO! NO! STOP!"

Remus grabbed the nearest book before jumping out from behind the bookshelf he'd been hiding. He threw the book so it hit the manager right on the head.

"Boo!"

The manager stopped and turned his head towards Remus. He was holding his arm above his head with Emile desperately reaching out to grip onto his hand.

"I just now climbed in the backdoor to scare you...Bitch!" Remus lied while signing for Emile to go! go! go!

Emile had turned pale as a sheet as he slowly retracted his hands and backed out of the room. He didn't stop staring at the manager until he was just about outside the room when he immediately ran away to find Remy.

Without saying a word the manager went to close the door before looking back at Remus. His towering frame made it impossible for Remus to try and run away.

"You hurt a human"

Remus blood ran cold "I didn't have a choice" He spat back.

"Yes you did" There was no emotion in the manager's voice "And either way violence is not something succubi are made to do. If you were in any actual danger you should have just let it happen. You have known the rules and your purpose ever since you were made! And yet you still did it!"

"Roman wasn't there. He doesn¨t know"

The manager chuckled lightly "Obviously! Otherwise the other twin would have been here same as you" He took a few steps closer to the succubi "I have always been fascinated by you...And annoyed, irritated, hateful. But mostly fascinated"

Remus felt his skin hit against the table as he tried to back away.

"The demons creating your lot has been doing this job for centuries. How could they have gotten it so wrong when they made you. I've even wondered if msking you was some sort of joke, as if they were trying to make the worst possible succubus"

The succubi scraped his fingernails against the downside of the table to try and feel how sharp they were.

"..How about this" The manager were as close as he could be "I could look aside this little incident, the human didn't even die after all, if you...let me fix you"

The manager placed his hand against Remus' thigh and let his fingers wander upwards while leaning so close his harsh breathe hit against Remus' cheek.

within an insant the succubi had stabbed his nails into the flesh of the manager's hand. But he didn't draw blood, he didn't even break the skin.

"THERE'S NOTHING BOUT ME TO FIX!" Remus screamed "And the only things wrong with me is my demented fucking brain and my shitty sense of humor!"

The manager leant back and straightened his posture once more. His eyes flickered up and down Remus "I see" He said in a dry tone.

In one overwhelming dizzy spur of movement the manager's many arms took ahold of Remus' hair and dragged him out into the hallway. The succubi pulled at his hair and swatted with his tail but nothing worked. His body froze when he saw guards waiting outside the door. They took ahold of him in the same way he had seen them take ahold of the oh so many Punished succubi he'd seen.

He kicked his legs and yelled and thrashed his head around and screamed and screamed and screamed. A crowd had started to gather in the hallway, dozens of eyes leering at him.

"I DON'T EVEN REGRET IT! I WOULD HAVE BITTEN ANOTHER FUCKING HUMAN IF I COULD!" Remus yelled while continuing to trash around.

Everything was a blur and the air was thick like oil. His eyes searched for his brother in the crowd. Emile. Remy. Anyone. But none of them were there.

Remus was dragged into the meeting room and the doors shut tight behind him. He fell to the floor on his knees as the guards let him go. His mind was screaming at him to run but he saw the manager's shoes in front of him before he had the chance to.

The manager took a handful of his hair and forced his head back so his eyes stared up at the gleaming eyes of the demon.

"Any last words?"

Remus spat up at him "Next time I'll kill the bastard I'm attacking"

"That's preciesly the spirit you need"

The words didn't really reach Remus as he heard yells coming from the hallway outside. His chest began to ache as he felt his brother trying to get to him. He could just about make out Roman yelling his name over and over.

Even with the manager still holding him in place Remus managed to turn his head around to see Roman crashing through the door. The two guard demons quickly took ahold of her. She trashed around just as he had and even let out her wings in a desperate attempt to free herself from the guards.

"ROMAN! RO-RO!"

"REMUS! LET GO OF HIM!" Roman yelled right into the guard's faces "HE HASN'T DONE ANYTHING!"

She tried to reach out her arm and graps for him but they weren't even near. The last thing Remus saw was tears going down his brother's cheeks before the manager forced Remus to look up at him. One of his many hands held the succubi's face in his palm before his fingers forcibly parsed his lips.

The manager's fingers dug into his mouth and his nails left cuts on Remus' tongue.

"Speak no evil!"

The pain was instant.

His eyessight completely whitened from shock as he to his stomach. His hands stretched out looking for some comfort, some relief. It was hard to move and even harder to breathe.

Something was clogging up his throat and when he coughed he realized it was blood. He puked up the mix of bile and blood onto the cold marble floor. One of his teeth fell out alongside it.

In the blur of pain his eyes darted around the room trying to find his brother until seeing Roman laying passed out on the floor. Her body was shaking and her fingers twitching. Remus tried to drag himself closer but the manager took a single step in front of him and stopped him completely.

Remus glanced up at the demon and felt the fear of heaven fill him.

"You were quite effecient when you hurt that human" The manager said but the sounds just made Remus' head hurt even more.

He parsed his lips and tried to yell out his brother's name but not a single sound came out.

The manager snapped his fingers in front of Remus' face "Listen to me. We want you to go seduce a human and then kill them, okay? It's easy. It's what you said you wanted was it not"

Remus tried to let out a confused whine. Again, nothing.

"Don't worry. You can still talk to humans, I know you're awful at seducing so I wanted to make it a bit easier on you"

The manager placed a knife into the palm of Remus' hand.

"Just make the human sin and then kill them and your twin is going to be alright. Easy. You have my word"

The mention of Roman made Remus nod along even though his head was still spinning too much to even understand.

"Good" The manager half heartedly patted him on the shoulder "The human's name is Janus. Got it"

The manager didn't give him a chance to answer. He pulled Remus along by the arm to the closest door and opened it to earth.

Remus was still trying to yell out to his unconcious brother as he got thrown out onto earth and the door slammed shut behind him.

The rain was pouring down onto the concrete creating puddles around his bare feet. He pulled in the handle and opened his mouth to say the code needed to open the gateway to hell but his heart sank as he realised he couldn't.

He was stuck on earth.

Still he banged his fists against the door until his knuckles were bloody and when he couldn't anymore he took the knife and tried to jam it open but nothing worked.

He hit his head against the door before curling up with the knife close to his chest. The puddles of water reflected his face back to him and he flinched as he saw that a single streak of his hair had turned the exact same shade of white as Remy's hair.

When he opened his mouth he realized his entire tongue had turned white as well.

Janus. The name of the human he was supposed to make sin and then kill filled his mind and soon enough he felt his heart being pulled towards the direction of the human in a similar way to how he had been able to feel where his brother was. His chest ached at the loss of not feeling Roman.

He clinged to the knife in his hand. All he had to do was kill and then everything would be alright again and Roman would be okay and Remy and Emile would be safe and nothing would be wrong.

Like in a trance his feet stumbled forward across the pavement onto the soft grass wet from the rain. The college he was in front of was dark and quiet aside from a lone light shining from the library building.

Remus held the knife tightly as he peered in through the window and saw Janus sitting all alone.

#sanders sides #tss #remus sanders #thomas sanders #roman sanders #emile picani #remy sanders #what if you were an asexual succubus wouldnt that be fucked up or what

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gameguy20100 · 1 year

Text

For my friend @ogre-marama You're the best.

Marinette hummed to herself happily as she got the last minute Christmas shopping done. Tom and Sabine had already got all the food bought and the majority of the decorations but a few replacements in case Tom broke some never hurt.

While she was buying icing sugar for the bakeries festive goods she ran into Kagami of all people and gave her a hug as tight as the bump would allow.

At roughly six months into it now Kagami’s belly was rather prominent and the fabric of her dark red jumper was strained against the swell.

Kagami sighed and rolled her eyes "Hello Marinette, yes you can touch it."

Marinette laughed “Wasn't going to. But thanks for the permission."

"You’re welcome. What are you doing here? I figured you'd have finished preparations in November." Kagami said as she felt a tingling in her abdomen and felt the urge to rub it.

"Just making sure. With the Dupain Cheng clan, you never know what can go wrong. Especially when Dad does the bread sauce and grandpa Rolland starts going "That's not how its done!"

Kagami sighed after the two were done laughing, then felt her eyes go damp. Stupid hormones! Marinette noticed this and asked what was wrong.

"Nothing, just mood swings. The fetus is affecting my brain chemistry. I'll be fine."

"Kagami, I've been pregnant. I know when it's baby brain crying and upset crying. What are.." Marinette didn't even need to finish the question before gasping.

"Oh my god! I'm so sorry, here I am going on about my family and you're all alone!"

"I've got Dustin." Kagami replied.

"That's so much worse!" Marinette said with a flail of her arms. "He's got his parents, who neglected him, his sister who hates you because of your race, and a brother who is too young to do anything. So he can't visit them! He must feel awful! This is unacceptable. I insist you two have Christmas Dinner with us."

"I would argue. But I know trying to talk you out of things never works." Kagami huffed with a smirk. "Very well. I'll see you then.

When Kagami got home, she smirked at Dustin having fallen asleep with a book over his face. "That's not how you read them." She insisted and shook him awake before sitting next to him.

"No, but it is a sign of 'leave me alone, I'm tired."' He retorted with a smirk.

"You gave up your right to sleep when you put this thing inside me." Kagami said as she patted her bump. It still felt weird to her. Especially when the baby moved around.

"Well you weren't complaining at the time." Dustin joked which earned him a playful smack on the head.

"If you're done being crass, I have news. We're spending Christmas at Marinette’s since I have no family, and yours are awful."

"Don't dress it up or anything." Dustin replied sarcastically.

"I could, but then I wouldn't be the woman you fell in love with." Kagami insisted and kissed him softly on the lips to emphasise her point. Then she broke off as she felt a dull pain in her abdomen, like something very small was kicking her. Or someone.

"You are such a moment killer!" Kagami snapped as she rubbed her stomach in an attempt to calm it down. If anything it just got worse. "You’re such a pain! Why do you never listen?!"

"Maybe because she's incapable of rational thoughts? I feel like that could be a contributing factor." Dustin replied with a sarcastic expression.

"She seems to know the perfect time to piss me off!" Kagami snapped. "You are grounded for a week young lady!"

"Yeah, go to your room." Dustin smirked. " And no tv, I'm amazed you even have electricity in there. Your mother's got lighting in her blood I swear."

Kagami laughed and clamped her lips on his again, running her hands through his long brown hair. And taking his hand and placing it on her stomach.

"See what I mean? She's a nightmare!" Kagami said as Dustin reacted to the kicks with a bewildered expression.

"Probably gets that from you." He teased, and kissed her again. The Couple kept it up until they had to take a breath.

About two weeks later, Kagami was woken up by her alarm and angrily threw her clock at the wall.

“Infernal contraption!” Kagami snapped. “Who’s the idiot who set it for seven thirty on Christmas day!?”

“That would be you dear.” Dustin replied as he stretched out the sleep from his limbs. “Now you want the shower first? Or can I use it?”

“With your hair filling the drain? No way! I’m going first!” She snapped as she grunted with effort getting to her feet and slamming the bathroom door.

“I’ll be calmest pregnant woman ever.” Dustin sneered in an imitation of Kagami’s voice. “I knew that was rubbish.”

“I HEARD THAT!!” Kagami yelled from the bath room.

( Marinette’s house.)

“Alright, men.” Tom Dupain said with a snort. “This is our time, lets do this. Dad, Make the damn bread sauce since you hate mine so much!”

“You’re using that crap with rice flour! That’s not how it’s done!” Rolland insisted with a hateful sneer.

“Whatever. Adrien, you’re on Veg and potatoes. Get peeling!” Tom ordered, pointing at him sternly.

“Yes sir!” Adrien replied with a salute,

“And I’m on meat!” Tom said proudly. “Lets make this right!”

“Uh, dad.” Marinette said, with a nervous expression. “Aren't you forgetting someone?”

“You know the rules honey. Men on food, women on activities, that’s how we do it.”

“I mean, what’s Dustin going to do when he gets here?” Marinette said sternly. “I told you he was coming.”

“Guests don’t cook, that’s not how it’s done!” Rolland retorted.

“If I had a Euro for every time he said that.” Adrien sighed as he began peeling carrots.

Suddenly Marinette’s phone went off and she shrieked and nearly dropped it, before answering it. “Hello. Marinette Dupain Cheng here. Well obviously you knew that because you called my phone, and saw the ID, But always nice to confirm your suspicions right?

“We’re outside your house. Please let us in, it’s cold.” Kagami’s voice came from the phone with a slight shiver.

Marinette gulped and ran down stairs and let the two inside.

“Chirssy merry, I mean Merry Christmas guys! Come on in!” She babbled and grinned then immediately regretted the fact she hadn’t worn shoes. The floor of the bakery was ice cold. causing Kagami and Dustin to laugh and walk in.

Back in the lounge, Dustin threw their coats in the wardrobe, and Marinette was surprised that his jumper was Christmas themed, Dark blue with a large white skull wearing a Santa hat. His dark Jeans and boots were expected though.

Kagami was just wearing Jeans and a red Sweater dress. “Sorry for not being in season. They didn’t have anything in my size.” Kagami said as she rubbed her stomach to further the point.

“Oh, it’s fine. You should wear whatever you’re comfortable in. I spent my entire third trimester in my gym clothes.” Marinette giggled. “Is it hot in here? I feel hot! Is that Hugo calling me? Bye!” Then she sped off.

“Is it that bad?” Dustin asked plucking at his jumper.

“No. She’s just nervous because you and I are new to her plan and she reacts poorly to change.”

Kagami followed Marinette into Hugo’s room, and she smirked at Marinette pacing around and babbling towards the sleeping toddler.

“I think he’ll make for a better discussion when he’s awake, and can talk.” Kagami interrupted as Marinette said something about her and Dustin resenting her.

“Sorry, It’s just. I wanted this to be perfect. No, not perfect! Flaws are good, I mean everyone has them, and you’re great! I mean, if you want to improve things that’s fine, but don’t let me influence you..”

“Stop, breathe, count.” Kagami said sharply as Marinette’s anxiety started to flare up again. After a count to ten, Marinette calmed down and thanked her.

“Right, who’s up for Trivial pursuit? Nothing like a good brain game to work up an appetite.”

Kagami smirked and leaned over Hugo’s crib. “Be patient with your mother. She’s a mess, but she’s the best parent you could ask for.” Then her hand went to her stomach as the baby kicked again. “I know it’s getting cramped in there! Sorry for not having a pocket dimension in my uterus!” She hissed, then walked out.

The family all sat around the table and played the game they’d split the teams by couples, or former couples in Rolland and Gina’s case.

“Who is the current monarch of the United Kingdom?” Adrien asked.

“Charles the third.” Marinette replied.

“Says, Elizabeth the second here.” Adrien said confused. .

“I told you to update the games Tom.” Sabine sighed, and put her head in her hands.

“Oh, darn, I knew I forgot something.” Tom said with a guilty look. “I’ll do it first thing when the shops open, promise!”

“Which helps us out in the current time and place how exactly?” Rolland asked. “I’m not playing an outdated Trivia game.”

“How about Charades?” Marinette suggested.

“I’m not getting out of this chair!” Rolland insisted. “I’m old, I’m allowed to be lazy. Same with Gina, and the pregnant one.”

“It’s Kagami!” Kagami snapped. “Refer to me with my name, not my condition.”

“Now it feels like like Christmas.” Dustin said with a grin. “Just throw in a few racial slurs and lecturing me about my career and I'll feel right at home.”

“Your family sound like they suck.” Gina said, as she packed away the game. “What is it you do anyway? Bookkeeper?”

“Librarian.” Dustin corrected.

“What’s the difference?”

“Everything!”

The argument was stopped by an alarm going off, and Tom Jumping to his feet. “Right, breaks over. Men, too the kitchen!”

“What am I, chopped liver?” Dustin smirked.

“Why don’t you do the stuffing and cranberry sauce?” Adrien suggested. “It’s pretty fun.”

Dustin shrugged and joined in, washing cranberries and then dumping them into a pan with sugar and orange juice.

“Did you never do this with your father?” Tom asked as he put Dustin's prepared Stuffing into the oven.

“Mum ran the kitchen like a dictator. Nobodies allowed to help, but she always complained about doing alone.” Dustin replied, building up a decent rant speed. “So, no. No I didn’t.”

Tom looked horrified. And Adrien gave a sympathetic sigh, and put his and on Dustin’s shoulder. “I know how you feel.”

After a few minutes of Pictionary, where Kagami’s art talents let her team take a considerable lead, it was time to eat.

“Not exactly the feasts of Valhalla.” Tom laughed. “But I think we did good. Right men?!”

“Right!” Adrien replied, holding up his wine glass with a smug grin.

“I really regret getting you that book on Norse Mythology.” Sabine said as she rolled her eyes at her husband, then winked to show she didn’t mean it.

“Well, dig in!” Tom demanded, after Marinette had came back in and put Hugo in his high chair with a plate of his own.

“Hope, you like the fried chicken.” Marinette said to Kagami as she smeared cranberry sauce on it. “I made sure to get it special.”

“Pregnancy cravings?” Sabine asked sympathetically.

“No, It’s a Japanese thing.” Kagami clarified. “It’s a tradition born from turkey shortages. So we made due with this.”

“But we’ve got plenty of turkey!” Rolland pointed out. “Look at that thing, it’s the size of a new-born!”

“Well this way we can enjoy both.” Dustin said. “Happy capitalist excuse to spend money everyone” He joked in English, then translated for Rolland's sake. After they were done, and let the food go down, they all washed up, and Dustin and Kagami gave a thanks, and left them to enjoy their presents.

(Kagami and Dustin’s flat.)

“Uh, I feel like I hate enough for three.” Kagami sighed as she slumped onto the sofa, and rubbed at her stomach.

“Well you’re eating for two.” Dustin joked, and joined her.

“That’s a misconception. I only require an additional three hundred calories.” she said, then sighed again.

“Something wrong?” Dustin asked.

“I was just thinking, are we going to have that? They’re happy, and despite the drama they look forward to it every year. And next time, we’ll have our daughter. And..”

“Kagami, just stop.” Dustin chuckled. “Remember what we agreed when we decided to keep her? Our families suck, and we can make a better one from just the three of us. Quality, not Quantity.”

“And we’ll figure it out together. It’s our thing.” Kagami said, and started to tear up.

“Hormones?

“No.” Kagami replied as she cuddled up to him on the sofa. “I’m just happy. Now lets watch some cliché special and mock it.”

“Now there’s a Daniel's tradition I approve of.” He laughed, and began scrolling though Netflix for their victim.

#miraculous ladybug #ml fanfic #Purple wings of Deception #kagami tsurugi #Dustgami #adrienette #adrien agreste #marinette dupain cheng #adrienette family #Xmas #original character

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larnax · 2 years

Note

Yes, yes, YES! AO3 is designed EXACTLY to protect people from “DISCOVERY!” Even the people you personally think are bad people! Even you! And if you think that a site that DOESN'T leave its users open to bashing, witch hunts, doxxing and harassment is a bad site, then it can only be assumed that YOU want to bash, witchhunt, doxx and harass people who don’t meet your moral standards. That is not a good thing! It is not!

And you are as free as the wind to criticize any fic you choose so long as a) you are not doing it in front of the author b) are not threatening the author and c) are not doxxing the author. Discord is a great place to do that! PRIVATELY. You are also free and encouraged to make any amount of helpful educational posts for the young and easily impressionable warning them of things that are not alright irl and what to do if you recognize yourself as a victim of one. How many such have you made lately?

And btw, anyone with any understanding of library studies will tell you that AO3's tagging system is a miracle and the envy of absolutely any such organization. There are plenty of such posts on tumblr! Look them up, maybe!

like i clearly and repeatedly explained in the post, "good archive" and "prevents users from discovering its contents" are mutually exclusive. this is the entire point of the post and ultimately irrelevant to whether or not i personally approve of the content. as i said repeatedly, assuming you could read and understand words, the problem is that a search system that CAN'T FIND WHAT YOU'RE LOOKING FOR or gives you almost entirely irrelevant results is a shitty search engine.

ao3 provides zero actual protection from doxxing or harrassment, it just has a shitty search engine. they didn't even let you block users until very recently. you might as well say my tumblr blog has incredible protection from witchhunts because the search bar can't filter tags.

a user who has trouble with a badly designed website isn't inherently Young and Stupid, you're just so up your own ass that you think memorizing 80 euphemisms for pedophilia makes you a supergenius. like i said explicitly in words, a library that incorrectly files or provides literally no relevant information on its contents is a bad library.

but yeah no "you can't criticize media publicly" is the kind of deranged take that would get you laughed out of town and pelted with tomatoes in any creative community except your social bubble. you being such a loser that people talking about how the romanticization of sexual assault can lead to its normalization in society, an extremely well documented phenomenon, makes your glass bones and paper skin shatter is firmly a "you" problem.

ultimately my post was making a utilitarian argument about whether or not ao3 is an effective archive. it's not. i have no problem with archives that store works by bad people that explicitly argue for awful things, and in fact i think they are vital to maintain for the reasons i stated. i just understand psychology and realize that if someone writes raceplay porn that the author should not be immune to criticism just because the archive itself is necessary.

but yes, i do think that some works should be restricted from, like, 6 year olds. some people, like elementary schoolers and you, don't have the mental capacity to understand cause and effect, so giving them propaganda for certain ideas when they don't yet have the ability to think critically can lead to them wholesale internalizing whatever they read.

and i do think that it is bad to write a book about how epic and good rape is. i think we should take that book and put it in a library so everyone can see that you think that and criticize you for it, and if that hurts your feelings you shouldn't have published it. i fully understand that authors can write books where characters espouse and even encourage ideas that the author does not hold, however it's thoroughly bad reading comprehension to assume that you can't ever read something and a) analyze what ideas the narrative itself supports while also b) when applicable, understanding that a book that endorses ideas and an author who endorses them irl are not correlation without causation.

also the 'if YOU think some people are bad that must mean YOU are the REAL bad person' is just such a stupid logical fallacy. some things are different from other things. lemonade is different from microplastics. gay sex is different from racism. the difference between me and you is that i know what i'm talking about and you're repeating bullshit slogans from people obsessed with a website that doesn't work very well.

in conclusion,

#answered #long post #but yeah. make no mistake i Am a mean pretentious entitled puriteen who thinks that rpf of teenagers is disgusting #it just wasnt the point of the post. the point of the post is that ao3's defense that 'this is just how archives work!!' falls flat

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slumberingcorpse · 1 year

Text

The Wolf and The Fox

Part 11 “Destiny in the Palm of Your Hands”

Summary: Eskel claims he can tell their futures by reading his brother’s palms.

Geralt grins devilishly as he places his last card on the floor.

“You whoreson! You cheated!” Lambert shouts, his freckled cheeks turning bright red as he slams his hands down on the table.

Geralt scoffs, “As if! You suck so much at Gwent I don’t need to cheat!”

Lambert growls and flashes his tiny fangs only causing his older brother to growl back flashing his much bigger ones, “Careful now, Lambert, unlike yours, mine can bite. And I tend to bite hard.”

“Could you two quit it already? I’m trying to read,” Eskel huffs from the other side of the table as he flips through the ancient pages of a book while looking down at his palm.

“Well, why don’t you join us then? I’m getting tired of beating Lambert all the time,” Geralt suggests.

“That’s not true! I beat you before!” Lambert corrects causing his older brother to roll his eyes, “Yeah, that one time when I let you beat me.”

“Lies!” Lambert denies. Angry tears started to well up in his cat eyes.

“Geralt...” Eskel warns.

“What!? I’m not doing anything!”

Eskel shakes his head in disappointment before patting the empty seat next to him, “Come, Lambert. Don’t listen to him.”

Lambert sniffles and wipes his ways his tears before rushing over to his oldest brother’s side while Geralt rolls his eyes and walks over, “You’re spoiling him too much. Just like Vesemir.”

“A bit of spoiling never hurt anybody,” Eskel argues as he pets his baby brother’s head.

“Yeah, right. Mark my words once he’s older he’ll be nothing but a spoiled prick,” Geralt shoots back gaining a glare from young Lambert who just scooted closer to Eskel’s side.

The white-haired pup rolls his eyes and sits down across from his brothers, “What are you reading anyway? Looks old as hell. Where did you even find it?”

“In the library. I was helping Vesemir organize it yesterday and it caught my eye. It’s about fortune-telling!” Eskel explains.

Geralt scoffs, “Fortune telling? What a load of shit! There’s no such thing! Just like destiny! There is no possible way to know what the future holds or what choices you will make.”

Eskel shrugs, “Maybe so, maybe not. Still sounds fun though.” he smiles before turning to Lambert, “Show me your palm. Let me read your future.” he says dramatically.

Lambert hesitates for a moment but shows him his palm. Eskel gently takes it and looks at it for a few moments before speaking again, “Looks like you’re going to live for a long time Lamb. However, your life will be long and hard. Even so, it seems like you won’t have to do it alone...”

“What does that mean?” Lambert asks believing every word only for Eskel to sheepishly smile, “Looks like you have a lover waiting for you out there.”

The small pup’s eyes widen, “Really!? Are they going to be pretty!? Will we get married? Have children!?” he asks excitedly.

Eskel shrugs, “No idea, but from your palm, it says that you won’t have any children.”

“Yeah, dumbass, we can’t have kids.” Geralt jeers only for Lambert to stick his tongue out at him.

“You turn Geralt, let me read your palm!” Eskel grins mischievously.

“No.” Geralt bluntly says.

“Oh come on! It’ll be fun!”

“It’s stupid!”

“Leave him be Eskel. He just scared!” Lambert mocks gaining a glare from Geralt.

“Fine.” Geralt huffs before holding out his palm. Eskel chuckles and leans over to read his palm, “You’ll have a long life. A life filled with adventure and hardships and-” He starts before suddenly stopping.

“What?” Geralt and Lambert ask in unison.

“W-well it seems that...you have three loves waiting for you...and one child!” Eskel says shocked.

“What!?” Lambert questions in enraged while Geralt laughs hysterically, “Awe what’s wrong Lambert? At least one person will be stupid enough to love you.” He teases.

“Shut up! I bet mine will be better than all of yours!” Lambert shouts.

“Oh come on, do you believe in this? It’s not real! I mean me having a child? It’ll never happen.” Geralt says causing Lambert to frown and look down at his pale palm, “B-but...” he starts but doesn’t finish feeling heartbroken at the idea that there was no love waiting for him after all.

Eskel glares at Geralt and yanks at his ear causing him to yelp, “Stop picking on him!”

“I’m not! It’s just telling him the truth! He was going to find out that it’s not true sooner or later!” Geralt huffs.

“What’s all this fighting about now? I was only gone for a few minutes and yet you two have already made Lambert cry.” Vesemir asks walking over.

“Geralt keeps picking on him!” Eskel snitches.

“I was only telling him the truth! Fortune telling is bullshit!” Geralt defends.

“Fortune telling?” Vesemir questions.

Eskel nods and shows him the book, “I was reading their palms.”

“Ah, I remember doing that when I was younger with my brothers.” He says joining them at the table.

“Really? W-what did your fortune say?” Lambert sniffles.

Vesemir smiles softly, “That I would live much longer than my brothers and lead a life full of responsibility and I would have three children.”

The pup’s eyes widen upon hearing the fortune. Even Geralt couldn’t just find a way to poke holes in it right away.

“Destiny is not something you can laugh at, boys. It is something that will follow us no matter what we do.” Vesemir lectures.

“Does this mean that someone is waiting for me?” Lambert asks.

Vesemir chuckles and pets his head, “Of course, pup.”

<- Previous Part

@Tags: @wrongdodo @yeeterboi420 @lucien-viktor

A/N: Sorry for not updating for so long. I got really depressed. I’m okay though. I hope you guys enjoy. I’ll try to write more.

#witcher fanfiction #witcher fic #the witcher fanfiction #witcher netflix #witcher fandom #witcher geralt #geralt of rivia #witcher eskel #witcher lambert #witcher vesemir #fluff #kear morons

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fae-fucker · 2 years

Text

Breaking Time: Part 1

After more moral deliberation than what is probalby justified, I've decided to snark this book after all. You see, I’ve sort of realized that what I have to say would make for a ridiculously long book review, so I might as well do this. But because the horse I'll be kicking is half-dead already, I figured I'd go easier on it, and this snark will be shorter and speedier than my usual ones, going at about five chapters per post, or 5 ch/p. This means I'll be mostly recapping the events and cutting back on my line-by-line nitpicking, only adding quotes when they're extra bad or when they're funny bad. If recap-heavy isn't your vibe, feel free to skip this snark.

So, a few important disclaimers before we get into this:

I don't follow Sasha on anywhere, never have, and never will. All I know about her personally is that she's got red hair and she's weaponized her awful taste in literatture to create a career for herself. She also seemingly can't write for shit, but got a publishing deal and became a New York Times bestseller off of her own fanbase. Gatekeep girlboss etc. I'm saying this to explain why I might not pick up on references to her own life or similarities between her and the main character, of which there are apparently many. Feel free to inform me of these if you like, but it's likely that I'll miss them in the text itself. However, that also means I'm not biased for or against Klara, so I'll be looking at her as her own character, as it should be tbh. Self-inserts are fine in fanfic but shouldn't be a thing in published lit.

I have an at best passing and at worst insufficient knowledge of the mythology and folklore that will be referenced in the book. Yes, I'm sorry, but I probably won't be able to know where Sasha fucks up, which means I'll fuck up by proxy. I know some very basic things, mostly stuff that overlaps with Nordic folklore, plus stuff I've picked up from other media, but I haven't done any in-depth research myself. So if you see something outrageously wrong and I don't pick up on it, feel free to inform me, just don't be a dick about it.

I have not read Outlander and I never will! However, I do have a good friend who has read it, so I might ask them about this stuff. This means I sadly won't be able to see just how close the similarities are (though I know Klara and Claire are basically the same name, shame on you Sasha), but I'm not about to read Outlander just for this snark, sorry huns. Some things even I won't read.

With all this in mind, what exactly will I be critquing if I can't talk about the most juicy stuff, you might ask? Well, everything else! The romance, the worldbuilding, the plot, the writing, the characters. I'd say there's plenty of stuff to look at aside from the most blatantly bad shit, and one could argue that this gives me sort of an unbiased and somewhat objective look at the work.

Okay, it's not fully unbiased of course. I'm doing a snark before I've even finished the book, meaning I fully assume it'll stay bad enough to talk about throughout. That's the definition of biased. But! I genuinely have no particular ill will toward Sasha or her work, and I want to see what she's cooked up for us, what she's been working on for so long. I thought Lindsay Cummings' standalone work wasn't phenomenal, but at least it was, I dunno, intriguing? I need to know for scientific reasons whether Sasha on her own can carry a novel, whether her solo projects will be any better than Zenith.

Now, you might wonder why I'm giving Breaking Time this treatment while The Murder Complex only got a review? For one, I didn't think TMC would be fun to snark, since it was just ... nothing. It woud just be me moaning about the stupid worldbuilding and edgy writing over and over. It was basically Zenith but on Earth, complete with another white-haired murderous waif.

But, if we have to be honest ... Who's the main person to blame for Zenith? Cummings didn't have any sort of audience before Zenith, and I don't know if she has one after. The only reason Zenith exists, and lbr, this book exists, is because Sasha already has a dedicated audience. (Though not dedicated enough anymore, judging by the GR ratings, oof.) So, in my opinion, if a YouTuber gets to coast off of their existing influence to sell their books while actually good authors have to scrape together what they can, then they deserve higher scrutiny from the public.

Because of her fanbase, she got to publish this book that genuinely reads like a first draft, something that wouldn’t have been published if the publisher didn’t know it would sell regardless of quality. I think that fucking uuuh sucks ass? So I’m here to tell you why that’s a bad practice and that publishing sucks and you shouldn’t buy Youtuber books.

Ahem. Well, that was long. Now let's get into it!

Chapter 1: Callum

The book opens in 1568, and we're in the POV of a man named Callum, who's staggering out of a pub in search of his friend Thomas.

We find out that Callum and Thomas are both pit fighters, and Thomas has recently been getting his entire ass handed to him, which is worrying. They both work for a man slash abusive father figure named Brice. They’re both orphans and Thomas is Callum’s older brother figure, so he’s very attached to Thomas as a role model, though Callum is especially bummed out about not having a mom.

Callum keeps wandering around looking for Thomas with no response, and he's extra worried because a while earlier, Thomas had given him his most prized and secret possession: a notebook. This would indeed be quite worrisome, Callum, I'm with you there.

Callum recalls that Thomas has been acting strange these last few months, disappearing at regular intervals and coming back weird and mean, talking about mystical creatures as if he'd met them. Thomas would also talk about mysterious men who leap between worlds, oooh.

They’re coming, Cal, you’ll see. It’s as simple as stepping through a veil.

Who’s coming, Thomas? What veil? Callum asked, and Thomas would laugh.

What an asshole, lol. Ok but why wouldn't he explain to Callum who he's talking about? He's clearly willing to talk about his other experiences. So what in-universe reason does Thomas have for just laughing Callum off instead of telling him what's going on? I know we need to keep it mysterious for the reader but this just makes no sense.

Giving me Soyina laughing at Andi for asking how she brings people back to life with "science."

Callum hears a sound and finds Thomas, super-stabbed and bleeding out fast. Callum feels bad about stealing his dirk earlier, he'd done it because he was worried Thomas would hurt himself with it, but now he thinks he might have been able to defend himself if Callum hadn't taken it. We also get this:

He wished suddenly, ferociously, that he’d had a proper mother, one whose wisdom he could call upon to calmly guide his hands. However, Thomas was the only family he had.

Literally what. I get that we have to establish that Callum doesn't have a mother and Thomas is basically his older brother, but we have already established that. This just feels really jarring to me. Like his best friend and brother is bleeding out and Callum is bitter about how he doesn't have a mom? Anyway.

Someone attacks Callum, a mysterious man with white hair and amber eyes. He's holding the dagger that he presumably used to stab Thomas, so Callum loses his marbles and attacks him right back. It doesn't do much of anything, and it seems the stranger has some sort of supernatural powers, ooh.

“I’m going to have fun with you,” the stranger whispered. “I like a man with a bit of fight in him. It’s more fun to play with your prey, don’t you think?”

Gee, I wonder if he's the bad guy. (But also I'm internally cringing because this is basically how I wrote the bad guy in my book at first before betas pointed out he was too hammy. None of us are above bad writing, kids. Check yourself before you Shrek yourself.)

“I dinnae believe I’m going to Heaven,” Callum said, raising his fists once more, drawing strength from the familiar ache that radiated through his arms. “But I cannae wait to bring you to Hell with me.”

You couldn't add a little "hasta la vista" in there? Or mayhaps a "yippee ki-yay, motherfucker"? No? Too much? Cuz I swear it would've fit right in.

Man, even when he's getting his ass beat by a bad man, our hero simply must have his little epic badass moment and the shitty one-liner, huh?

Plus, it's so clunky and awkwardly written. If it's supposed to be badass, why does it sound like he rehearsed it in the shower for ages and still got it wrong? If I were the villain here I'd defo giggle.

Anyway, his big dick bonanza doesn't last very long and the bad man cuts him up like a shish kebab. Callum collapses next to Thomas all dramatic, and then the bad man collects some of Thomas's blood.

“If you’ll excuse me, there’s one last Pillar I must find.”

Pillar?

The unearthly amber eyes melted into darkness as his opponent backed away and turned, disappearing into the shadows once more. Softly hissed words echoed in the alley. Àiteachan dìomhair, fosgailte dhomh, Àiteachan dìomhair, fosgailte dhomh…

A bunch of spooky magic mist surrounds the bad man and Callum is bleeding out. Then he hears Thomas’ voice saying “Get up, scunner” and this is enough to push Callum to a final attack, and he manages to grab onto the bad man (noticing that he has knots tattooed around his collarbone, those will be important later I guess) and time seems to stop just as his blade connects with the bad dude's neck.

A bright glow burned against his lids. He closed his eyes tighter and welcomed whatever might follow, only hoping he’d find Thomas there. A wall of light had formed above, descending as if the sun were pulling him through the sky. His body rose into its searing embrace.

He waited for the long drop to the ground, but it never came.

Callum kept soaring.

Not just through the street.

Not to death’s embrace.

But somewhere else.

Leaping to another world, like the man in Thomas’s story, Callum thought.

So he leaped.

The previous descriptions all sound distinctly like Callum has no control over his movement, but sure, end the chapter on that note just for the drama of it.

Honestly, for a first chapter, it's not bad! The writing is a bit iffy in spots, but it sets up one of the main characters, his background, his relationships and connections, his motivations, and it introduces an antagonist and some intriguing lore as well! It’s a little too fast for my taste, but overall, not bad!

Chapter 2: Klara

We’re in “Present Day” now, with our second protagonist. Her chapter starts like this:

Klara usually thought of rain as Scotland’s natural lullaby, but right now it felt more like the bars of a prison cell.

Hell if I know.

We find out that Klara is in covering for her aunt Sorcha (of course) as receptionist of Kingshill Manor, an old Scottish inn that Klara’s family owns that’s filled with old Scottish stuff that I’m sure Sasha researched for a whole five minutes. We also find out that Klara’s mother died fairly recently of cancer, and that Klara moved back to Scotland so she could apply to college there instead of in the States.

Her father used to be a CFO of a “boutique hotel chain” in the US, and boy am I suddenly reminded of why I rarely read contemporary romance. It’s just very hard for me to relate or care about an affluent pretty white girl going on adventures. Red hair isn’t a personality trait, no matter how many booktubers want to convince you it is <3

Anyway, turns out that Klara doesn’t actually want to study astronomy in Edinburgh because it was her dead mother’s dream rather than hers, and she’s now received a confirmation letter in the mail saying that her withdrawal has been accepted.

Klara wanted more than to study the stars—she longed to discover new ones. New worlds.

Yeah I’m pretty sure you still need to study astronomy in order to do that. Unless she means she wants to get into crystal healing or crypto.

Her dad returns home and Klara explains (in narration) that she’s not yet ready to tell him about her college decision, because he’s a big softie and is still deeply affected by his wife’s death. He convinces Klara to go do something because she hasn’t been outside in 3 days. She decides to schedule a visit to her grandmother over the weekend. And then ... grabs the car keys to go ... somewhere? We don’t really get any destination or anything. It’s clearly just a super clumsy way of getting her out of the house and into the car. Why couldn’t she just go to her grandma’s now? Idk man.

Before you read this next quote, I want you to know that Klara previously mentioned a doorknob in the shape of a horse’s head. It comes back now like this:

“Okay,” [Klara’s dad] said. “Be safe.”

She turned back again, smiling, leaving one hand on the doorknob. The horse’s cool brass nose pressed into her palm. She met his eyes. Dark green, like hers. It was the only feature she’d inherited from him.

The ... horse? The only feature she inherited from the horse head doorknob?

Look, I know what this is supposed to refer to, but man is it awkwardly written. This is something even a cursory edit would’ve picked up. Did nobody read this before it got published?

Idk.

Her dad invites her to go to the pub later to see a band, and we get the obligatory not-like-other-girls rant.

At eighteen, she could legally drink in Scotland. It should have been every normal American teenager’s dream, but Klara had never felt normal—not even before they uprooted their lives to a country across the ocean. Going to a pub to socialize with strangers was the last thing on her mind. Cute mailman aside, she preferred the leading men of romance novels, who were hot and charming and broody and didn’t try to pull her into any awkward conversations.

This will sound cruel but um. I hope this isn’t Sasha’s actual thought process, because this is straight up baby logic. I love cringey romance novel heroes as much as the next lonely fuck, but to aspire to date someone who’s similar to them IRL? Bruv.

Is Sasha single? I hope she is, because if not, her SO now knows what she actually wants in a partner given that she wrote her ideal man into a self-insert romance novel.

Anyway, she goes out for a drive and then sees a Mysterious Man on the road. She swerves to avoid him but finds his crumpled body on the ground anyway.

Chapter 3: Klara

Klara’s panicking and inspects the stranger. He’s barely conscious and covered in blood. Kingshill Manor is closer than any other town and hospital, and she forgot her phone at home, so she gets the guy into her car and drives back to call an ambulance.

He keeps mumbling something about Thomas, so she assumes that’s his name. Once back in the manor, he falls over and she lands with her head on his muscled chest, because of course. She inspects his hot bod and finds that he’s got no actual wounds, and worries that he maybe murdered someone.

Though he was slim, there was muscle on him. She took in his dark, curly hair and sun-bronzed face. Even in his rain-soaked, filthy state, she couldn’t help but notice how attractive he was. He kind of resembled the guy on the cover of A Loch Ness Lass in Love.

Yeah, Sasha’s Pinterest board for this book has pictures of a wet Henry Cavill and several equally wet lookalikes, none of whom I would call slim. Unless she means “slim” as in “not fat” and not “skinny.”

Klara finds a dirk on him, the one we know he took from Thomas.

The blade was covered in dirt, but Klara could tell it was well taken care of, regularly sharpened and polished, free of rust. The studded handle was wound in leather, which was soft and worn. Cold crept up her spine. Like the dirk was used often.

Cold crept up her spine like the dirk was used often? Again, I get what this is supposed to say, but it’s so weird and awkward and reading it felt like getting smacked in the face. Just removing “like” would’ve saved it, IMO, which once again begs the question: who edited this?

Chapter 4: Callum

The chapter opens on a flashback of Thomas and Callum hiking up a mountain, which Callum hates but is doing for his bestie brother figure. Then it abruptly ends with Thomas telling Callum that he’s lost and it’s time to wake up. Very ominouse.

Callum wakes up in the now-times and is confused by everything. He thinks Klara is a bean-nighe and the paramedic inspecting him is holding some sort of weird metallic torch. Looking around, Callum seems to think he’s in some lavish mansion or something. Which I think he is, but even more lavish for him because he’s a 16th century peasant.

The doctor asks if Callum has been drinking, which Callum confirms and mentions The Black Heart, the same pub he had stumbled out of at the start of the novel that still exists in the present day. This, apparently, is enough to make the doctor believe he’s dealing with a drunk and recommend he takes aspirin and water and drinks a bit less.

So um ... Wasn’t Callum covered in blood? Like, not only that, but he’s likely concussed and seems confused by his surroundings? Wouldn’t a paramedic find all of this sort of alarming, even if the patient doesn’t have any visible wounds? This all seems very convenient to me.

Anyway, throughout all this, Callum is very aware of Klara becuase she’s just so pretty, and also because he thinks she might be a banshee.

“He’s lucky to not be dead.” The sound of her voice was strange, an accent unlike anything Callum had ever heard. Not Scottish—nor English, nor French—but spirited. Perhaps she was Scottish, after all.

There’s something deeply embarrassing and uncomfortably personal about this, like reading smut by a bad writer where you can tell this is specifically for them only and you’re just “lucky” to be along for the ride. The idea of an American author, obsessed with Scotland, thinking that a 16th century Scottish stud would find her modern American accent “spirited” enough to maybe be Scottish?

It’s embarrassing. You should be embarrassed.

Also, this has introduced my first major issue with this premise, but we’ll get there.

Callum thinks Klara was the one who had healed his fatal wound and begins sheepishly cleaning up the mess he caused. Two American tourists walk in and assume he’s the receptionist? I have to reiterate that my guy is covered in blood, but the tourists seem to think he’s in costume.

Callum knew the lairds of the lands lived different lives, but he could hardly understand this man.

But Klara’s accent is spirited, is it? (We find out later that the tourists are Texan, while Klara lived in New York. Weird vibe, if you ask me. Doesn’t seem to make any linguistic sense why Callum would find one appealing and the other incomprehensible, but what do I know.)

There’s some more comedic shenanigans that you can probably imagine a better version of, but Klara returns and Callum has the obligatory think on how hot and beautiful and ginger she is.

Her beauty reminded Callum of the stories sailors told as they passed through Rosemere on the way to the coast—of the beautiful mermaids that ensnared men’s hearts and dragged them to the depths of the sea. He had never understood why, if the men knew what fate lay before them, they didn’t turn away from the sea-devils before it was too late.

Now, looking at the lady before him, Callum understood.

Insta-love? In MY shitty shovelware equivalent of YA? Perish the thought.

Klara orders Callum to go wait in a different room -- the paramedic has left by now, btw -- and Callum goes off to have a survivor’s guilt trip about Thomas’s death and how he couldn’t save him and how he should’ve been the one to die. He rips off his shirt because it’s got Thomas’s blood on it (sigh) and then makes a vow on one knee to get revenge on the man who killed Thomas. It’s very dramatic.

Chapter 5: Klara

Of course, Klara walks in on Callum doing his little half-naked vow. And God forgive me for showing this to all of your virgin eyes.

Other than on TV, which didn’t really count, she hadn’t seen many men’s bodies in her eighteen years of life—except for Steven, her ex-boyfriend. She would’ve felt guilty for almost forgetting about him but then again, he was forgettable. And Steven seemed to have forgotten about her when he cheated on prom night...

Callum’s body was...not forgettable.

Muscled. Ripped. Svelte. Bonnie. Tan and lean, with a dusting of dark hair on his upper chest which also sprouted below his belly button and went lower than she cared to admit she had noticed. Definitely not forgettable.

HE CAN’T BE MUSCLED AND RIPPED WHILE ALSO BEING SVELTE AND LEAN. THIS IS NOT HOW DESCRIPTIONS WORK. It’s like she just threw on all the “hot” words without thinking of what her character actually looked like.

Sasha, I will be in your walls later this week, so clear out your fucking schedule.

(Also “cheated on prom night” makes it sound like he cheated on prom night. As in he was dating prom night and cheated on it.)

Klara hurries off to find Callum some clothes from the lost and found stash. When she returns, he makes fun of her being embarrassed by his nakedness.

He chuckled softly and took the bundle from her hands. “Dinnae fash, it’s just skin.”

She allowed her gaze to drift downward. He looked back at her, eyes sparkling.

He held her gaze. Time seemed to slow and stretch, like freshly made taffy.

God, what love potion did she accidentally take? She wasn’t the insta-love crush type, and she didn’t need to become one all of a sudden.

1) What a wild tone shift. How is this anywhere near how anybody would act in this situation?

2) Just because you shine a spotlight on your bad choices doesn’t make them not bad choices, Sasha. “Uhuhuhu, if I SAY it’s not insta-love, then its not insta-love!” Not how that works, hun.

3) Did you just use the word gaze twice in three sentences. Editing whomst?

Anyway, they introduce themselves and Callum goes to change into his new fit. He does ask about the dirk and notebook he had on him, but Klara lies and says she found nothing, because she’s still worried he’s a serial killer and doesn’t want him to have his knife. Fair enough.

She says she never found a phone on him but that he could use hers to call someone, then offers her dad to give him a ride home, but gets nothing in response. She offers him food and that gets him going. Then when Callum seems confused by his mishmash of new clothes, we get this:

“Yeah. Come on, [the clothes] scream vintage.”

She put the nuked breakfast burrito onto a plate and turned to see a bewildered Callum sitting at the other end of the table, staring at his hands.

“Acid wash? Scrunchies? Lots of hair spray?” Nothing. “Taylor Swift’s 1989?” He looked even more confused.

Hey Sasha, um, don’t mind my T-posing behind you at this very moment, but when do you think Taylor Swift’s 1989 was released? Just asking.

Klara suspects that maybe Callum comes from some isolated village, or that he suffered some sort of brain injury, which one would think the EMT would also wonder, but I guess the healthcare in Scotland is pure doggy doo-doo in this universe.

Klara slid the plate of food across the table.

“I hope you’re not a vegetarian.”

He gave her a questioning look. “I’m no Lutheran, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“Uh...” Was that the famous dry Scottish humor she still didn’t get? “Do you like meat?”

He nodded, shaggy hair flopping with the movement. “Very much.”

Klara gave him a tight-lipped smile. His deep Scottish brogue was probably the thickest accent she had ever heard, which was saying a lot because a Glaswegian school group had once visited the manor.

Ah yes, the deep Scottish brogue of “very much.” Seriously though, why is his speech reduced to just having a thick accent? These people aren’t only thousands of miles apart in space, but nearly 500 years apart. They should not be able to communicate.

It feels like Sasha couldn’t even be bothered to look up those funny Scottish tweets that went viral a while ago, to make it seem at least slightly more authentic. Or ask any actual Scottish person to read through this mess.

Anyway, Callum thinks that Klara cooked his food, which she technically did, and is surprised by what he thinks is a noble lady doing the cooking herself.

“I thought the rich always employed a kitchen staff. You’re a...different sort of lady.”

“A different sort?” Was that a compliment or an insult? Klara laughed, mostly to hide a wince. Her family wasn’t rich—far from it—she couldn’t blame Callum for assuming. She did live in a massive, cool manor house brimming with antiques and oddities.

“Far from it”??? Didn’t you say your dad was a CFO of a boutique chain in the US? Babygirl just say you’re privileged and move on, you’re not fooling anybody with that “uhuhu we’re so HUMBLE and POOR in our MASSIVE HISTORIC MANSION FILLED WITH ANTIQUITIES.” This is why I can’t read contemporary romance written by pretty straight white women. I have to suffer through characters thinking that not being able to afford a fifth Live, Laugh, Love sign is oppression.

Also, if you remove “far from it,” the sentence becomes “Her family wasn’t rich, she couldn’t blame Callum for assuming.” This makes no sense, even with the aside. Did you miss a word somewhere? WHO EDITED THIS?! A little monkey???

They end up talking about Thomas being gone and Klara gets all sad about it because loss is tragic etc, and they bond over it. I’m not gonna say anything about this because I assume this is based on Sasha’s own life. Klara offers to help him find whoever took Thomas from him, but doesn’t know where Rosemere is, so instead they decide to go to The Black Hart.

She drives him there and thinks he’s about to kiss her before he gets out, which she doesn’t seem to mind, but this isn’t insta-love! It’s NOT insta-love! Shut up!

Callum gets out and heads for The Black Hart, but obviously it’s all modern and different now, so he chickens out and walks into the forest instead. Klara is compelled to follow him because of a Mysterious, Unexplained Feeling. Like, she’s physically pulled back into the plot by it. Watch the master Sasha at work, crafting her story for us to enjoy:

And yet, though she had only known him a few hours, she felt a tinge of sadness.

Well, less of a tinge...more like a pull.

[...] Deep in her chest, a knot formed. It was the strangest thing. Like nothing she had felt before. It wasn’t love, or empathy. It was a physical feeling, like a rope was tightening around her ribs. [...]

But the farther she drove from The Black Hart, the more the feeling intensified. It felt as if something was pulling her back. The longer she resisted, the tighter it became, until it was so tight, she felt like something would break inside her.

“What is this,” she choked, turning the wheel around. Her body moved of its own accord, but her brain was still trying to catch up.

To her relief, the feeling lessened as she got closer to the pub. [...]

Trust yourself.

Her mother’s words came to her, so loud and real in Klara’s mind that she actually looked to see if her mother was standing just outside the car, calling to her.

Yeah, excapt don’t trust yourself. Trust the plot literally pulling you back into it with mysterious feelings.

GOD. I said “mini snark” and then wrote this. So sorry, everyone. But also, no I’m not <3

#eff reads: breaking time

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