#cause shes also peeved

[jeanmoreausautismstickers]

the "fancy pants rich Mcgee over here" trend on tiktok except its laila and jeremy

and they're genuinely talking about a chauffeur because jeremy DEFINITELY had one and laila will die mad about it

[v1rtualtrash]

Made some designs that I'm happy with :]

[fear-no-mort]

been getting into diane lately

[fertbutt]

the dragon prince is such a mixed bag for because I dislike almost everything about it but every so often it pops off so hard like season 3 did not have to be that good but it was. For every 5 bad/awkward/unfunny moments theres 1 incredibly good moment

[ceilidho]

take me home, country road

prompt: 1800s price/reader…. reader flees to his town where Price is the sheriff after a murder in her previous town only to be mistaken for the mail order bride that Price just sent for ….and he’s not interested in hearing any of her excuses when she tells him that he’s got the wrong girl (part 2) part 1

-

The solid hand at your back guides you through the dusty streets towards the courthouse in the middle of town. It’s not an easy walk. Your shoes catch on the skirt of your dress a handful of times in Price’s haste, each time almost causing you to tumble forward before you manage to catch yourself. 

It’s patently unfair. The strides of his long legs would easily have you losing him in a crowd were it not for the way he refuses to leave you behind; every time you so much as slow down a tad to catch your breath, the firm hand on your low back presses you forward again. You’d be snippier if you weren’t still addled from the events of just five minutes previous.

“I beg you, please—” you plead, heart skittering in your chest when you chance a glance up to find Price’s face set. Everything about him feels purposeful now, driven. “If you just—if you would just let me explain!”

“Nothing more to know, darling,” he says, not bothering to meet your desperate eyes. Clearly not in any mood to continue arguing with you on the status of your identity. 

He tugs you along when he takes a right turn down a road leading into the center of town. The belt of bullets around his waist rattles with every step. It’s a constant reminder of who you’re with and why you should not be with him. Every step feels like a step towards your own sentencing, like accompanying your jailer to your cell. It’s perhaps fool’s luck that the sheriff hasn’t inquired further into your identity or your reason for coming into town. Makes you think that perhaps there isn’t yet a warrant out for your arrest. Maybe that’s only to come. 

“Sure there’s more!” you insist. “There’s—there’s—” It’s like the words fly right out of your head, bucked off like a bronc rider. Too much has happened in too short a time. “There’s the matter of—oh, would you quit that, I am walking!” The last bit comes out snappish, peeved as Price pulls you towards the stone steps of a red-bricked building. 

The words County Court House are inscribed above the second-story door girdled by a wrought iron balcony. It’s a simple building, far from the colonnaded buildings from back home with their cupolas and hand-carved lintels. Even in size it hardly compares, a meager three stories with perhaps a basement. Still, it catches the eye in a town as small as this, by far the most imposing building for miles around.

It’s also the one he pulls you towards, hand moving from the small of your back to take firm hold of your waist. You flinch at the touch and the way his fingers dig in, almost proprietarily. It’s a physical shock to your system. While you’re not unaccustomed to the rougher ways of men, you’ve also been largely shielded from it yourself. By chance or fortune or luck. Men may take an attitude with you, as they’re wont to do, but none have yet manhandled you the way Price feels free to do. 

“Take a big step there now, darling,” he says, lifting the front of your dress for you a tad, to your shock. “No accidents before the wedding.” 

“The wedding?” you shriek, face heating at the heads that turn to look over at the two of you. 

The courthouse is bustling with townsfolk, still not as busy as in the bigger cities back east, but still clearly at the center of all business activities. The few people that pass you by on the way out of or into the courthouse are bold in their perusal, eyebrows lifting when they take notice of Price at your side—and how could they not, with the size of him and the badge pinned to the lapel of his vest that glimmers when it catches the light. 

“If you were expecting something grander, you should’ve turned up last month when I sent for you,” Price says, stern again. In the foyer of the courthouse, you can see the way the long hallway cuts through the building, leading into the adjacent rooms until finally culminating with the courtroom at the very back. You watch as a man slowly closes the door to the last door, shutting the occupants in. “Might’ve been more amenable to it then.”

“I’m not asking for a nicer ceremony—”

“Good, then you won’t be disappointed.”

“—but that’s because I’m not the woman that you intended to marry in the first place,” you finish, quieting to a hissed whisper, conscious of those still lingering close enough to eavesdrop. In all likelihood, the other people milling around probably already know that the sheriff has been waiting for his mail order bride to arrive. They wouldn’t be the first people to mistake you for her.

He pulls you into an alcove off the side of the foyer. When Price turns to face you, no longer just the heavy presence at your side, it takes a moment for you to gather your bearings. He seems larger somehow, with his arms crossed over his chest and feet rooted into the floor, drawn up to his full height. The hair on his forearms draws your eyes momentarily before he steps into your space, forcing you to meet his eyes again. 

He stares down at you with an intensity that makes you flinch. “Now, far be it for me to say that I know my wife-to-be by her demeanor alone, given that we’ve hardly corresponded beyond our initial agreement. But I find it mighty strange that a single, unaccompanied woman would show up in town with all of her earthly belongings as I’m expecting my own woman to show up any day. Hardly seems coincidental.”

“Don’t you think I would have sought you out if we were intended to wed?” you ask beseechingly. “Or that I would put up such a fuss now? What sort of bride would do that?”

“You want to know what I think, darling?” The timber of his voice deepens as he lowers his head slightly, wrapping the conversation in a layer of intimacy despite its public nature. There’s a darker note to his voice now, a thinly-veiled anger. “I think you’ve been keeping yourself housed and fed off the back of men like me and the money you’ve been sent to compensate for the rough journey. I think your guilty conscience brought you here because you know that the Lord doesn’t look too kindly on swindlers and thieves.”

“I’m not a thief,” you hiss in protest, affronted. Ironic that you’d be insulted by his words when the truth is far worse. 

“I’m sure you had your reasons,” Price permits, a reluctant softness in his voice. “But your conscience did you right. Marriage will suit you far better than a life of crime ever could.”

If only he knew. “You’ve still got it all wrong—I’ve never once even glanced at the matrimonial pages or the personals. And I certainly didn’t come to town expecting to be wed.”

You did, however, arrive in town with a guilty conscience. Even you’re wise enough not to mention that, though.

“Then if you're not her, who are you?” he asks. 

It’s clear from his tone that Price doesn’t believe you, but the question itself makes you antsier than even the thought of marrying this man. He still stares down at you in challenge, an eyebrow cocked. If you wanted to, you could easily answer his question and even furnish proof—a letter from an aunt or uncle or a telegram from a previous employer. 

That last thought makes your throat squeeze tight. You could furnish proof, but at what cost? You’re still unclear on how much information has been disseminated or whether you're a wanted woman. Though only weeks have passed since the event that caused you to flee in a haste, there’s no telling whether a warrant has been put out for your arrest, no telling whether word has reached a town this far west. 

“Not that it matters, but I’m from New York,” you say, scrunching up your nose. 

The look he gives you is unimpressed. “I’m sure you lost the accent on the train ride.”

Embarrassment makes you dig your heels in deeper. “I didn’t grow up there, it’s just where I’ve lived for the past few years.”

“And what’s your name?”

“…Elizabeth Smith.” 

It’s the first name that occurs to you, but the moment the words come out of your mouth, you can’t help feeling like you’ve made a huge mistake. Price must sense it too because he draws back up to his full height, lips twitching into a small smirk. 

“You have family or a post back in New York, Miss Smith?” he asks in a patronizing tone. 

“Family.” 

“Alright, then it shouldn’t be too hard to get confirmation and settle this whole issue.” He points behind you to one of the unoccupied rooms. “Telegraph’s office just behind you. We’ll get in touch with the Census Bureau and ask them to confirm your identity. And, if you are who you say you are, Miss Smith, then we can put this issue to rights.” 

Your blood goes cold. “That’ll—that’ll take time though. I can’t marry you today if they only get back to you in a week’s time.”

Price nods, his expression dissatisfied but resolved. “Wouldn’t be proper for you to stay at the house either, but I’ll make sure the inn lets you stay free of charge until this is settled. You’ll be in good hands under the Pattersons’ watch.” 

He doesn’t say it outright, but you hear the implication in his words. You’d be essentially under house arrest, perhaps free to move about town, but certainly not free to take the next train out. 

Your pulse thumps nervously at the base of your throat. Even swallowing takes effort now. The weight of his stare takes root in you, a living coil in your belly. No getting out of it. There’s no getting out of this. You don’t know why you thought you could, how you tricked yourself into thinking for even a moment that a man as formidable as the one set in front of you would simply give in. Let you go. You’ve hardly even moved the needle. 

It’s there still in his eyes. Not even doubt—something quite far past that. Certainty. 

“‘Elizabeth Smith of New York’, was it? Come, we’ll have them start the message and you can give me your birthday as well so it’ll be an easy find—” Price says, attempting to slip around you to head to the telegraph’s office. 

“No.” 

It slips out of you inadvertently, high and panicked. He pauses at the word. More than just your words. When you look down, you notice your fingers clenched in the fabric of his sleeve, bringing him to a halt. It pulls taut against the muscle of his forearm. 

Softness bleeds back into him at your touch. You can see it smooth out the lines of his forehead and the jut of his brow. He ignores the onlookers still hovering by the double doors to twist back to you, now obscuring their view of you. The breadth of his shoulders nearly blocks the rest of the foyer from sight when he looms over you like this. Down the hall, you can hear a gavel pound down on wood and a litany of raised voices in unison from behind a shut door. 

“You don’t have to make up stories,” Price murmurs, drawing a hand up to cup your cheek, holding it like a precious thing. “I told you before—all’s forgiven.”

His words remind you of being trapped in his office, drawers stripped down your ankles and skirt pulled up to your waist. Your bottom still smarts from the palm of his hand, still hot and sore to the touch. It’s hardly been long since then and yet it feels like an age ago, like trying to find your way in a dust storm. 

You open and shut your mouth, lost for a way out. Caught between a rock and a hard place. Marriage or a jail cell. You swallow. Both sound like a sentencing. 

But there are the cold, metal bars of a cell, and then there’s John Price. The first man in an age to elicit more than a passing glance from you. Deep blue eyes crinkled with the folds of old laughter, wide shoulders, and barrel chest. In another time, you think you would’ve jumped at the chance to be courted by a man like him. Keeled over at the very thought of being chased the way he hunts you down now. 

“Alright,” you say instead, giving in. The hand fisting his sleeve shakes. “Alright.”

It’s not a pleasant giving in. Your permission is handed over with shot nerves. The coil bunched up in your core burns white hot, hissing and spitting like a rattlesnake. 

Still, when he drags a thumb over the slope of your cheek, you fight not to let your eyelids flutter shut. “Good girl. We’ll make it work, love. Won’t be easy, but it never is.”

You don’t anticipate that it will be, but your mouth stays shut. Price must think you mollified, soothed rather than resigned to your fate, because he passes his thumb once more over your cheekbone, this time so tenderly that you wait for his lips to descend upon yours again, sure from the heat in his eyes that he won’t be able to keep from stealing another kiss. You lick your lips out of habit—not just to see the way his eyes follow the motion. 

Then the door at the back of the building bursts open to a cacophony of shouts and hollering voices. The moment broken, Price drops his hand away from your cheek, only to take your hand in his this time, pulling you down the hall towards the register’s to await the circuit preacher. He makes you walk on the side closest to the wall, shielding you from the men that burst out of the courtroom, surging towards the doors. You think that someone must have been found guilty because the lot of them look joyous, clamoring over each other for attention. 

You think that you might be spared another minute or two, enough time for them to clean up and reset the courtroom, but you’re shocked to find the circuit preacher ready to conduct the ceremony in the cramped register’s office. He and Price shake hands enthusiastically, the preacher turning to you to grasp your hands in welcome before turning back to the sheriff. They have a camaraderie that speaks of old friendship. 

The cramped room where you’re married smells of patchouli and moth wings, like holes burrowed into sweaters at the back of a closet. The bookshelves along the walls are stacked with books old enough that you know they’d crinkle deliciously if opened. You try to listen as the preacher begins the introductory prayer. Behind you, another man slips into the room, a witness. He hardly bothers to introduce himself for such a brief affair. 

You haven’t been to many weddings, but you always imagined that yours—if you were privileged enough to have one—might have more fanfare. The wedding you actually get is a brusque affair, a brief recital of vows that ends only when the preacher enjoins Price to kiss his wife. 

His wife. 

Your eyes go wide when a hand flattens along your spine and pulls you into a hard chest, John dipping his head down to kiss your mouth again. His kiss is less chaste this time, not restricted by convention as earlier. This time, his tongue licks hot into your mouth, like no kiss you’ve ever had before, beard scratching your face. His mouth tastes like something you’ve never had before, like heatburst. Hot and wet. Soft and suckling. Any kiss you’ve had before pales in comparison—juvenile fumbling, all dry and half-humiliated, unsure of yourself. Nothing like being kissed by your husband.

Your husband. 

He only pulls away when the preacher finally clears his throat, a tad embarrassed. You’re too dazed to feel the same, fingers still sunk into the lapels of Price’s vest, clutched there. It takes a moment for your brain to catch up and your hands to unclench. You feel Price tug your hands away and slip something onto your finger.

The few documents needing to be signed hardly takes any longer. You finally notice the man that had slipped in behind the two of you, a masked man even larger than Price, who nods at him before glancing at you only long enough for you to notice that his eyes seem curiously blank. 

“Thanks, Simon,” Price says as the man—Simon—signs under your names, but he only grunts. The ink is still wet when he leaves. 

“How was it so fast?” you ask absently, staring at the papers as the ink sits drying and the preacher takes his own copy before handing John his. 

“Everything’s practical out here, darling.” His hand holds you by the waist again, relaxed this time. Not worried about whether you might run. “Even the weddings.”

“You don’t…you don’t even serve dinner? Invite guests over? No gifts?” The questions are irrelevant, but you ask them anyway because it’s a way to focus on anything other than the preacher handing you the final copy of the papers and Price leading you back down the hall and out the doors. 

There’s a ring on my finger, you think, looking down. It sparkles when you twist your hand from side to side. Topaz, instead of diamond. 

“Maybe if you’d showed up on time,” Price reminds you. He no longer sounds upset about it, but it still seems to come out as an admonishment. 

You don’t respond to that. Perhaps you’re still shell-shocked, looking at the world through new eyes. It feels unreal that in the span of less than a day, you’ve been plucked up and married off, to the sheriff no less. The one man you would’ve tried your hardest to avoid crossing paths with. 

No chance of that now. 

“Where are we going?” you ask, still in a daze. The sun makes you squint when you leave the courthouse, making you miss the hat back in your room at the inn. Maybe you can convince Price to let you go back to collect your things.

“I think we’re due for a honeymoon, don’t you, darling?”

You go doe-eyed at that. When you look up, your husband is already smiling down at you, crow’s feet wrinkling at the sides of his eyes. 

“Let’s go home.”

[rockybloo]

A pet peeve of mine is how fandom will usually labeled a black girl as a lesbian which there’s nothing wrong with that however they tend to do this whenever the media show her and a guy lead having a romantic interest and says she’s a queen she need no man or she’s into girls so they can’t be together. It just sound coming from a place of malice cause they never explore her sexuality in their hcs or fanfic they just use it as an excuse to now ship her with the male lead saying there’s no way men will find her attraction. And it just using black lesbians as a scapegoat rather then exploration

The "She's an independent woman who don't need no man" is a double edged sword for black female characters because while it's meant to paint them as strong female characters, it is also an expectation for all black girls both fictional and real.

Not every black woman is super independent. There are plenty who need a helping hand or are more quiet or more shy but they get shoved under the "STRONG AND INDEPENDENT" label because that's what everyone and the media portrays them as. And this is SO rampant in fandom spaces sadly because a lot of series feed into this mentality.

And often when black female characters get this label slapped on them, they wind up in a more dominate role in a romantic relationship, and then people start writing them...weird. Some make them more masculine, some make them weirdly maternal - but they typically have to take on more responsibility than other female characters in the same series.

It's so damn rare for me to find fiction that features soft black girls...at least in fiction that isn't written by another black person (occasionally I will find other creators of color that manage to steer away from this independent trope).

ANYWAYS Fandoms will always fumble black girls because people don't bother to look into how something that might seem like a positive and harmless thing for one race may be a stereotype and expectation for another.

That and tons of people don't bother to look into other ways they can portray a female character as strong without using independence. IT IS POSSIBLE and VERY ENCOURAGED!

ESPECIALLY WHEN WRITING BLACK GIRLS

YOU DON'T ALWAYS GOTTA MAKE 'EM SASSY

[dunmeshistash]

Do you know where the “mithrun is the most grizzed masculine elf take” comes from. All I think about is the changeling thing but no one calls Marcille the most masculine elf for being ripped as an orc compared to Tade. Or that he trains a lot, which is also not an inherent masculine thing. To me Mithrun doesn’t really look different to any other (male) elf we see. Is it from the extra’s or something?

Yes that take comes from the changeling transformations of both Mithrun and Senshi. The joke is the Senshi is the "most femme dwarf" and Mithrun the "most masc elf" in contrast with how they look in their original forms

I do think the joke kinda got out of control in the game of telephone that fandom is, instead of a fun observation of how we might perceive Mithrun more feminine than he is and Senshi more masculine than he is due to our own biases based on their races it got taken way too seriously as "the only true and correct interpretation"

I don't think Mithrun is especially masculine or feminine when it comes to his personality, I understand some people have been peeved by others making him maybe too meek/girly compared to canon but I feel like the response of making him way more aggressive/manly than canon is just as inaccurate and it's kinda upsetting when I see "fandom vs (my interpretation of canon) canon" as if they're any more right for going to the extreme opposite

We don't really know if Mithrun is specially "masculine" for an elf either, the only elf that we know is especially "masc" is Otta, and we only know cause her bio says even elves mistake her for a man (I think for most of us she looks as androgynous as the others)

Here's a post discussing elf gender presentation more in depth if you're interested in the subject but all we know is that Mithrun works out a lot and is very muscular (which signals 'manlyness' for us but might not for elves) there isn't much that point out to him being especially manly or especially feminine compared to other male elves. He also has lost most of his desires and doesn't express his preferences much so I think it's safe to assume he doesn't really pick how he presents himself (clothing and such).

Other than that and being stoic (is that a super manly trait?) Mithrun is pretty average I think. He's also still super cute even as a tallman (as if looking manly would stop you from being cute)

But another trait of him that seem to make people read him as "super manly" it's that sometimes Mithrun is scary and aggressive, I'm not even going into why that's bad (correlating aggressiveness with manliness is uh…. not great….) not even to mention he only acts that way when he's triggered by wanting to take revenge on the demon, otherwise he seems to avoid hurting others.

Related to the "Mithrun is a super manly elf" take I've even seen people argue that drawing him looking too "cute" and small is incorrect (probably just because of his tallman self) but that's how Kui draws him herself.

I don't understand why correct others for drawing him the same way his creator does, he's designed to look this way, there's nothing to "fix" about his original design either (nothing wrong with drawing him in a way that appeals to you more tho, fanart is fanart just don't harass other people)

Anyway just to stress the point that he is very average let's compare him to Lycion and Pattadol

The average height for elves is 155 for males and 150 for females Mithrun is 155cm, Lycion is 170cm and Pattadol is 160cm, they're both taller and have a sturdier looking builds than Mithrun

Kui often draws Pattadol specially with a sturdier build than Mithrun actually

So no he's not the most buff biggest elf ever in any sense (although he IS a muscular elf), and I don't think the changeling transformations are too objective since they're magic. For example Pattadol as a human is pretty average even tho she's big compared to other elves (not to mention Senshi half-foot who has a huge beard that half-foots don't seem to be able to grow)

[heraxic]

Hello :o

I just wanted to say thank you (and also thank crumb) for getting me back into thinking about Karl Heisenberg 24/7.

I really love your artstyle, from the amazing expressions (especially the peeved/angry ones) to the scribbly lineart. As someone that’s trying to learn to draw more digitally, I really like to observe your stuff o.o

Your Moldy Family comics are funny, cozy, sweet and comforting all at the same time, and they made me discover and appreciate Eveline (oh man I love how much of a goth tween she is), and the way you draw Heisenberg (his physicality if that makes sense, his clothes, his hair, his everything) is just *chef’s kiss*.

As a former Greek Mythology child, that AU is so so nice owagh. I love all the monster adaptations/designs, it’s all so clever: I love that Kyril is scaley, hairy AND has wings (which I feel aren’t depicted often nowadays with gorgons), Alina is so majestic, with the black tipped limbs and the blood soaked dress, and the daughters being harpies/sirens(?) is also so perfect.

Idk if you’ve already said it, but what is it about Karl’s character that made him interesting to you?

I hope it makes sense (I’m a bit tired) and thank you again for the excellent food :]

Thank you so much!!!<<<3333

he lives in my head rent free…. his crusty-ass hair and barrel-shaped bod gets me every time

im glad you like my scribbly lineart! I tend to get concerned whether it really looks like anything haha

I miss drawing the mold family but i think my forte has always been fantasy, especially cause i love mythology more than anything. That’s not to say i wont go back to the modern mold family though

For greek au karl i wanted him to look like someone had haphazardly stuck animal parts to him so it’d look deliberately unnatural for him to have a relatively normal human body under all that-

I’m not sure i can fully describe why Karl is so interesting. Surface level, being voiced by Neil Newbon is always a big plus and his face model Joel Hicks is awesome-looking. His character design matches his abilities and personality really well, and speaking of personality, queer-coded villains who make a big show out of everything are always going to be my favourite. His gritty, masculine aesthetic is really inspiring in terms of gender as well. On a deeper level, in spite of all the terrible things he’s done, i find him sympathetic and relatable. After decades spent in a highly dysfunctional family, not living on his own terms, completely alone, I need him to finally be okay and get better for his own sake, with the support of people he trusts. It’s the same reason i love Eveline. Morally dark-grey characters who deserved better and could’ve gotten better with a good support system.

[oddthumbswetsleeves]

Hiding - Oneshot

Inspired by this post by @crumb-crumblet-s-crumbington <3

“Have you heard from B today?”

Elita-1 looked up from her datapad at her former-incompetent-subordinate turned leader. He looked stressed, or maybe nervous? It was hard to tell ever since he received the matrix.

“No. I haven’t seen him since the last time he messed up putting the supplies in storage.’ She looked back at the forms she was filling out. “He’s probably avoiding us cause he’s embarrassed.

“Embarrassed?” Optimus sounded confused. Elita realised she had neglected to tell the prime about B’s latest incident.

“He put a lot of the supplies he was sorting into the wrong places. I mean, seriously! I gave him possibly the easiest job I could have, and he still messed it up.” Optimus didn’t look like her answer had put him at ease. “He’ll be fine. If he’s embarrassed it might teach him to listen a little more.”

“Just-“ They met optics, “Tell me if you see him, or if you can get through to him. He won’t answer my comms.” He sighed. “I’m worried.”

He definitely looked nervous now.

“Yeah, sure.” Elita went back to reading. Optimus was silent for a moment, as if he wanted to say something else, but left quickly.

Once he was out of audial-range she tried B-127’s comm, certain Optimus was exaggerating. B never missed an opportunity to blabber.

“B”

Nothing

“B-127, respond.”

Still nothing

“B, this isn’t funny. Answer me.”

Silence

Elita never thought she would be able to use that word to describe the yellow bot. She started feeling slightly worried before it was replaced with something else.

How dare he hide away from his duties as an Autobot because he was embarrassed. He wasn’t the only one struggling with his new status. Being the Autobot commander and essentially second-in-command of Cybertron was exhausting. Every moment she wasn’t recharging or refuelling she was working. B was not going to get away with skirting his duties.

She was gonna find him.

Where the frag was he?

Elita had spent nearly half the orn asking around for the little mech. No one had seen him since she had. Not Jazz, not Ratchet, not even Prowl, who was usually aware of all Autobot activity. The other scouts had gibed her about B-127’s unrivalled skills in what they called “Extreme Hide and Seek”.

“If B’s hiding from you there’s no chance you’ll find him” one taunted. Primus, she hated being around the scouts, nosy bunch.

“Wait, why do you think he’s hiding from me?”

“Why else would you be looking for him? He’s told us about how busy you are.” Another one answered.

“Well, you’re not helping!” She stormed off before they could peeve her off more.

Elita was definitely getting hangry, so she decided to stop to get energon before anyone could risk mentioning it to her. Everyone had really been enjoying the abundance of it. The decreasing rations had been affecting the cogless bots hard. She remembered after being transferred to waste management seeing how some of the supervisors were stealing others rations off the delivery lines for themselves. That was one of the first things she fixed, especially since many of the bots on lower levels didn’t leave their stations during their breaks. Mostly the bots on the sub-

The sub-levels

“The best hiding spots are ones that other bots don’t know exist.” B-127 told her that once while he was training to be a scout. He was mostly talking about places that taller bots couldn’t get to, but almost no one knew about the 10 extra sub-levels.

“Scrap”

The elevator rattled more the lower it went. It was also getting noticeably hotter. The doors opened and after stepping out they surprisingly didn’t close behind her. Strange. She didn’t say anything at first, trying to hear any noise that wasn’t coming from the furnace.

She felt isolated.

Even though Elita knew she could contact anyone she wanted instantly, there was just something about the room emanated loneliness, but B had to be here.

She looked around. The room was small, nothing besides the furnace, the conveyor belt, and the trash chute.

Unless…

One of the walls seemed to have a handle, and when she moved it... Another room! She pushed it over.

What on Cybertron?

The walls were lined with multicolour string lights. The room had a table and chairs, but in the chairs were 3 piles of trash. They were kind of bot shaped. She guessed one of these were what “Steve” was, who Orion supposedly killed and D-16 insisted wasn’t real. Primus this guy was weird. Just before she turned away, she saw it. There was something golden-yellow barely poking up from behind the table. Elita had to stop herself from groaning. Some hiding expert he was.

“B” He didn’t move. Elita crossed her arms.

“B-127 I can see you.” He slowly ducked out of view. Elita’s face scrunched up, “Get out here right now or so help me, I will drag you back up to Iacon by your finials.”

The bot cautiously stood up, looking anywhere except her face. Neither one said anything for a few moments. Elita tapped her finger against her arm, making sure B could hear it. He still did not say anything. Elita started feeling nervous again, B didn’t even recharge this quietly. She wouldn’t show it though, he wasn’t getting any pity from her.

“Well?” she prompted.

“Why are you down here?” He asked quietly.

“I could ask you the same thing.” Elita leaned forward, but B still didn’t look up. “Why are you hiding? Do you think I’ll just forget your screw-up if I don’t see you for a few orns?”

“I’m not hiding. You know I’m here now, you can go back to work.” He fidgeted with his servos.

“What, so you can keep sulking here?”

“I’m not sulking.” His voice was low, but a bit rough.

Had he been crying?

“Then why are you down here?”

“You were really mad at me the last time I messed up. You said I was running out of chances.”

“So?” Her gaze steeled. His breath hitched.

Was he going to cry again?

“Well, that’s what supervisors used to say to me before I would get demoted” their optics met, “and you were a supervisor…”

“So, you came down here?” She gripped her arms a bit tighter.

“I’ve never had a boss who was my friend before.” He looked down at his servos, still keeping his voice low. “I just didn’t want to see your face when you decided to give up on me.” Fluid dripped from his optics.

“Give up?” Her voice was suddenly much softer. She cleared her throat. “Why would you think I’d give up on you? We’re friends, you said it yourself.”

“Megatron was Optimus’ friend, and he dropped him to the centre of Cybertron.”

Elita felt a pang in her spark. That might have been the scariest moment of her life, including everything that happened leading up to it. B had been the one to stop her from trying to grab Orion as he plummeted. In the frenzy she might have fallen after him. B had probably saved her life.

She was definitely failing to hide her pity now.

They were both silent for a while, the furnace rumbling softly behind her. Elita sighed and walked around the table. B shrunk under her gaze. This was the first time she had ever felt bad about making a subordinate scared of her. She put her servos on his shoulders, taking care to be gentle, and bent down slightly to be at optic level with the scout.

He was definitely crying.

Elita wrapped her arms around him tightly. He tentatively moved his servos up to her back. She felt him shake.

“Are you not mad at me?” B’s voice quivered. She sighed, squeezing tighter.

“I’m not sure I am anymore.” Letting go to hold his shoulders again. He sniffled and she moved her servos to cup his face. “Why haven’t you answered any comms? Optimus is practically beside himself.”

“I didn’t know you guys were calling me.”

“What?! Is your commlink broken?” She turned his helm to look at his audials. He pulled her servos away from his face. They had tears on them.

“No.” He looked towards the furnace. “I’m pretty sure no signals reach down here from the surface.

Elita’s face scrunched. She turned away, reaching a digit up to her commlink.

“Optimus, come in.”

No response. She swore quietly.

“We’re going back to Iacon before the boss starts pulling walls down to find you.” She held her servo out. B hesitated.

“He’s looking for me?”

“Of course he is. Why wouldn’t he be?” B tapped his pedes nervously.

“I thought you guys were kinda fed up of me.” Elita chose not to address that. She grabbed his servo and pulled him towards the elevator. It was still open.

“How come these doors didn’t close behind me?”

“Cause they don’t open from this side. It’s so if somebot comes down here to get something they won’t get stuck.”

“But that means…” Her spark sank in her chassis.

“Yeah, I can’t call the elevator.”

She stared at him. She felt the rage she frequently had for Sentinel and his lackeys build up.

“So you planned on staying down here forever?” B started wringing his servos again.

“I dunno”

“Well how would you have come back up if I hadn’t found you here?”

“Optimus, Megatron and I climbed up through the chute.” He pointed at it. “I probably could have done that again.”

“Would you have?”

B didn’t answer.

“You’re coming back to Iacon with me.” She put a servo on his shoulder. “I cleared my schedule when I went looking for you so we can do whatever you want, ok?” She led him into the lift. He shrugged. “There are a couple movies I’ve been too busy to watch. We can watch them in my quarters if you want.”

“Sure” He smiled for the first time since she found him.

“We do have to go see Prime first. I’m a bit worried he has actually turned headquarters upside down in my absence.” B giggled. Elita felt a weight lift off her spark. Once the elevator started moving, she pulled him into another hug, more forcefully this time.

“Never scare me like that again, or I will actually kill you.”

“Okay”

[drawlody]

Finally an official ref sheet for my SWAP!designs>:D (Drawing chibi is much faster lol)

•Ice Lady💙 -Really like her design I think I did a pretty good job:D - Trynna make her make her more like Evergreen with the hair swoop thingy and the way he wear the top -Dont have a beard so have a make-shift one(⁠ ⁠╹⁠▽⁠╹⁠ ) -Kidnaps wizards instead of princesses -IDK why people like to make her wear glasses since Ice King didnt wear one but anyway she only wear glasses when in Simon presence after their date in "Bespoken for"

•Magic Simon❤️ -Stuck on whether or not should I make him let himself go the way Betty do since I feel like he value his image way more (wear suit throughout the war and such) -A bit of facial hair and grey streaks👏 -Betty lost her glasses when go mad in this ver so he is keeping it as well as their pic -This is just a pet peeve but again with the glasses thing why do people draw his eyes inside the lens, cause to like to me eyes in lens is a Betty thing while eyes above lens is a Simon thing u get me?

In "Bespoken for" Simon try to get Ice Lady to wear the glasses just to ya know get a glimpse of the woman he loved SM. She did but then take it off immediately saying it make her "look like a nerd" but once seeing him being upset she make "a cooler ice one" and wear it around him

She also give him a matching pair of Gunter slipper in the date💙❤️ ( I will draw this later dw)

Here r some of the design sketches:D

[angelwishess]

⑅˚₊ 𝜗𝜚 Kyra Lovelace

(REMAKE) || Pinterest Boards — Playlist(s) .

The magicless prefect of Ramshackle; an enchantingly beautiful young lady who always carries herself with a sense of gracefulness and elegance fit for a princess. But behind that fair facade, lies an endless curiosity, a desire for danger and a knack for causing trouble.

⑅˚₊ 𝜗𝜚 — BASIC INFO !

Nicknames:

Prefect / Prefect of Ramshackle

Henchman (Grim)

Trickster, Princesse de la Lumière (Rook)

Little Shrimpy / Sea Angel <- After events of Book 3 (Floyd)

Kid (Leona)

Child of Man (Malleus)

Lacy, Ra-ra (Cater, Jester)

Nicknames for others:

Floydie (Floyd)

Acey (Ace)

Deucey (Deuce)

Jestie (Jester)

Jadie (Jade)

Zul / Zulie / Octoboy (Azul)

Big Bro (Leona and Jamil)

Caycay (Cater)

She has a habit for calling people endearing petnames like “sweetheart” when she doesn’t know them very well … (not many of the nrc students like this WHAHAHA)

Grade/Class: Freshman, Class A

Birthday: May 5

Age: 17

Height: 172.72 cm (5’8 ft) ( 177.80 /5’10 with her heels! )

Dominant Hand: Right

Homeland: ???

Club: Spelldrive Club

Best Subject: Animal Languages

Hobbies: Designing and making clothes

Pet Peeves: Living routinely.

Favourite Food: Burgers and Steak Fries !!

Least Favorite Food: Steamed fish and liver

Talent: Making clothes out of just about anything!

Likes : Fashion, Cute things, Mythology, Folklore, Fairytales, Flower language, “Adventure”, Anything she thinks is “fun”, collecting weird random bits n’ bobs, learning new things, Ribbons n’ frills, Pranks n’ mischief, Amusement parks, adrenaline rushes, Freedom, Cute sweets and cafe hopping!

Dislikes : “Boring things”, Normalcy/Living life routinely, monotony, pessimism, indecisiveness, lack of freedom, strong smells, studying, silence, being told what to do, being told she ‘cant’ do something, her moodswings, humid weather, being looked down on / underestimated, people trying to “save her”.

Gender & Sexuality: cis girl, demisexual + demiromantic

Voice Claim(s):

Note, these are subject to change !

JP: Haruka Shiraishi (as Leticia from I Want To Escape Princess Lessons)

ENG: Jessica Brown Findlay (as Leonore from Castlevania) (just pretend its a liittle higher pitched hehe)

⑅˚₊ 𝜗𝜚 — APPEARANCE !

A tall girl with fair skin and rosey cheeks. She has long, wavy white hair that fades into a soft pink. Her eyes are also pink, but she has notable long, thick lashes. She has heart-shaped pupils, and she always has a gentle smile on her face. (Smiling resting face)

It is notable that she is very beautiful. Her beauty can be considered uncanny, and she has a very elegant, other worldly aura.

No, literally… She has an aura. 😭 a sparkly, sparkly aura …

It honestly started as a joke but its canon now?? I seriously dont know— best example I can give is something similar to Kokomi Teruhashi from Saiki K but her aura is pink and sparkly … And she doesnt have it all the time only when she smiles shoujo style yk HAHAHAHA

⑅˚₊ 𝜗𝜚 — BODY LANGUAGE / SPEAKING HABITS !

She carries herself in a way that is very graceful, fit for a princess. She walks elegantly , with perfect posture and often seems as if she is floating despite her feet being on the ground. She simply feels… Unreal. Well, that is until she trips and falls on her face. Despite her elegant and well-mannered appearance for a first impression— she is incredibly clumsy.

She has a lot of body movement when she speaks. Think of Giselle from Enchanted, thats exactly how she moves often times as she speaks.

She moves in a way that is elegant and regal.

Even when she gets more comfortable being herself, she still has some old habits from her past, an example being bowing/giving a curtsy whenever she introduces herself.

She has a very soft, soothing voice. Perfect for storytimes and lullabies. Its very stereotypically ‘feminine’, and most times she never raises her voice. From anger, that is. She can be rather loud after coming out of her shell in Book 1.

Her voice, similar to how she moves, feels whimsical and airy in a strange way. She truly does seem like someone thats been taken straight out of a fairytale! …Well, atleast until she comes out of her shell, and you get to know the real her.

⑅˚₊ 𝜗𝜚 — PERSONALITY !

Most notable traits || Hedonistic, adrenaline junkie, carefree, unpredictable, impulsive, reckless, competetive, curious, accident prone, loyal, chaotic, cool-headed/unbothered, affectionate, teasing, mischevious, eccentric (I reccommend you check out my 🎀! twst shennanigans tag to see more memes of her and her personality lmao)

Kyra, at first, seems very elegant. The picture perfect image of what you think of when you think of the word “princess”. Shes soft-spoken, quiet, and mild-mannered. Usually not speaking unless spoken to, and always has a far-off, dreamy look on her face. She seems mysterious, and other worldly, like they pulled her out of a fairytale. Her presence attracts people and animals alike, they cant help but be drawn to her somehow.

Although she comes off as very mature and graceful at first— the true Kyra is a whirlwind of impulsivity and chaos. Shes unpredictable, and thinks in a way others way deem... strange. Shes bounce-off-the-walls energetic and eccentric, and unfortunately, a little naive too. Shes a dreamer at heart, after all!

She says and does things without thinking, often coming off as painfully honest and blunt. She says whatever she wants to and is extremely outspoken, not caring one bit about what she says. She also doesn’t understand social cues very well, either.

Ridiculously unserious, you can expect her to laugh at the worst times possible. Often times, she isn’t too good at reading the room, and can come off as insensitive when in serious situations. She herself, doesn’t see the issue with it, as in her eyes shes just “having fun”. Unfortunately, this can affect her realtionships with others, too, as she likes to have fun in her own way, and often times she does it by poking fun and teasing people, even if they’re in a bad mood.

She does what she wants, when she wants, and won’t listen to anyone who tries to tell her otherwise.

She adores the feeling of adrenaline in her veins and would do anything to chase that high. Because of this, she always has trouble and chaos burning hot on her heels. You can bet theres never a dull moment with Kyra around - from trying to juggle fish to exploding the alchemy lab to see "how many cool colors she can make", theres always something unexpected happening around her!

She has an insatiable, childish curiosity, and is always enamored by new things! She loves learning and experiencing new things, and always goes out of her way to try and learn every day. She seems to be quite oblivious to the real world, though. Seeing as she finds something new every day, be it as simple as a burger, a video game or a vending machine— it seems that even everyday things of society are all interesting and new to her.

Shes very honest, and sometimes even blunt. She enjoys a good challenge, no matter how ridiculous or extreme and hates being looked down on or underestimated. Because of this shes incredibly competetive when it comes down to it. Usually, shes very calm and cool-headed, but she cannot stand it when someone says she cant do something. Always filled with the burning desire to stand up for herself and prove them wrong, she’ll show everyone she isn’t some sort of delicate and frail maiden that needs someone to save her. (…Except for cooking, she cannot cook. At all.)

A huge klutz and so accident prone its ridiculous, Kyra always finds herself in the middle of some sort of accident or situation. Whether on purpose or not, if theres some sort of incident shes most likely involved somehow... Safe to say that the infirmary is her second home.

Despite her seemingly thoughtless behavior; Kyra is actually very compassionate. She's always the first person to come rushing in when someone is in need, and is a little too trusting of people, to the point of naivety. Shes extremely loving and caring, and even if she teases her friends, she adores all of them dearly and views them as family!

Kyra is a very positive person! She prefers to see the bright side of things, and is so cool-headed its honestly scary. She seems to never get upset, and faces everything with a bright smile! She holds no grudges towards anyone, and is so full of love sometimes its sickening. She chooses to always look forward, and move on from disasters with an even bigger smile than before.

Shes the kind of person that leaves a lasting impression. If you’ve met her, you’ll never forget her! No matter how rambunctious and chaotic she is, she spreads her love and her light to everyone she meets, and before you know it, she’ll find some way to worm her way into your heart! As a friend, and as a companion. A soul as lovely and as beautiful as her’s is sure to leave an impression you’ll never forget.

The best way to describe her is a walking contradiction. Chaotic yet serene at the same time, angelic yet impish in nature, selfish yet selfless. So easy to understand yet impossible to know. Otherworldly and proud yet so grounded and humble. She holds herself in a way that is regal, elegant. Yet she is so very inviting. So mature yet so childish, so disconnected with emotions but she feels them so deeply. Its curious, how it's possible for someone that burns so brightly to be so cool and collected.

Perhaps that is simply the role of a princess. And shes trying to figure out which parts of her have been thrust upon her by the expectations of others, and which ones are truly her.

⑅˚₊ 𝜗𝜚 — BACKGROUND / LORE (TW: for dehumanization.)

The life of a princess; from her birth is well defined. She must humbly serve her country and her people and wordlessly play the role she has been assigned.

She has no other purpose, after all. This is what she is meant for- the only thing shes good for. To not speak, nor think for herself. To act only for the sake of others.

Because that is what a princess does. She does not have any other identity outside of this. Nor does she need any identity outside of this. This is the only thing shes good for, what gives her worth. Purpose. She is nothing if not her title and her beauty, a tool for the kingdom to use for its advantage. She is someone— no, something to be used.

Perfection is her obligation. To be a flawless paragon, the ideal figurehead. To be something… Inhuman. And to be viewed as such.

But, Kyra is a dreamer. She wants, and she wants. No matter how many times she tries to stop it. She cant help that yearning for freedom she so desperately desires. Yearning, to be more than what shes told she is. Yearning to have more than what they have planned for her.

From her birth, she was forbidden from ever stepping foot outside the palace walls, her father much harsher on her than her other siblings, alienated from everyone in her life. She escaped through fairytales, and filled her head with dreams of the fantastical. Of course, this only made her want more. It fueled her wonder and curiosity of the outside world, and dreamed that one day she would be able to leave and explore the world for herself.

Of course, as years passed she had she had long played the role as “perfect princess”, obeyed every command and compliantly did everything the people asked of her. She threw away her own desires for the sake of her country- because that is her only purpose. And that is the only way she could ever hope to be loved. Otherwise… She’d be completely unlovable, if she didn’t comply. Her entire purpose is simply to sit still, to never speak and to simply and look beautiful.

Always admired, but never truly loved.

Always desired, but never known.

Always seen, but never heard.

And yet, you can only push someone so far.

After getting news from her father that she was promised to a prince, she stormed back to her room to weep. All of her dreams now crushed, and her hope gone.

She ripped out the pages of an old scrapbook shes had since she was a little girl. All of her dreams of adventure written and illustrated in lead and colorful pencils— now ripped to shreds. Nothing but little pieces of paper, of thrown out dreams. Dreams of leaving this palace and going to the beach, or an amusement park. Dreams of travelling the world and to see what it has to offer...

Dreams to make friends, and have grand adventures with them.

All hope was lost... Atleast thats what she thought, until she looked up to the sky and saw a shooting star. Out of desperation, she made a wish. The first time in years, as childish as it was she had no other choice.

And when she woke up, she was in a world she always dreamed of going to. And she couldn't be any happier. Maybe… Just this once, even just for a little while… She can be selfish too.

⑅˚₊ 𝜗𝜚 — NOTABLE RELATIONSHIPS !

Kyra ♡ Floyd — Bestfriends! Or more. || Theres no one on land or in the sea that could ever be more in sync than these two. Always on the same page and wreacking havoc wherever they go, they’re an inseperable duo attatched to the hip! They say they’re best friends and partners in crime, but everyone can see the dopey, lovestruck expression on their faces when they look at eachother. They’ll keep denying it, but no one knows why. (Wanna know more? Floyra’s intro post will be linked here!)

Kyra & Leona — “Big bro!” || Kyra seemed to take a liking to the beastman after the events of Book 2, often following him around like a lost puppy. She sees him as an older brother figure— sevens know why, but as time passes Leona found himself seeing her as his little sister, too. Perhaps, Kyra yearned for someone to call her older sibling. After all she never got to spend any time with hers.

Kyra & Malleus — Closest friend. || Both royalty thats underdeveloped socially, with a curiosity for the seemingly mundane things of the everyday life of humans— Kyra and Malleus are quite the duo, Kyra thought he looked so cool when they first met, and immediately invited him into Ramshackle! At the end of the night, she invited him to visit again the next day. When asked why, she said they were friends. And ever since, they’ve found comfort in eachother’s presence, and being eachother’s close friend.

Kyra & Crewel — “Dad!” || Kyra lacked a proper father figure in her life before arriving to TWST, her biological father being very distant. Crewel made her feel like she actually had a father figure, and now shes always quick to help him whenever she can. (… Unfortunately, he doesn’t seem to approve of her choice with Floyd.)

Kyra & Adeuce — Dumb, Dumber and Dumbest. || Ah. The original trio. Kyra looks out for them— but most of the time just lets them be because she thinks its funny watching them flail around whenever they’re in trouble. Basically, they all act like siblings. Always teasing and poking fun at eachother, but also always the first to rush to eachothers side whenever real trouble arises.

Kyra & Azul — World’s Worst Customer. || Ever since Kyra ate his last contract during Book 3, it was basically downhill from there. Well, for Azul. Not Kyra, shes having the time of her life pestering and annoying Azul. He’s tried to ban her from the Mostro Lounge countless of times but it never works. Not when the employees are unsure whether to actually kick her out, since its either they anger Azul or Floyd if they do or dont kick Kyra out. Either way, Kyra will find a way back into the Lounge out of pure spite. She just thinks its funny to annoy Azul, and Azul is lowkey kind of scared of her…

Kyra & Jamil — Parallels. || Kyra wanted to be mad at him. To be dissappointed in him, to tell him off after the events of Book 4. But, she couldn’t. She didn’t feel angry at all, her anger from earlier while seeing Kalim cry was faded, sizzled into nothing but a gaping hole of guilt— because how could she hate someone she understands so very deeply? She understands. He doesn’t think so. How could he know she understands when all he sees is her running as free as the wind? But, he doesn’t know, that his freedom is eventual, and promised. And hers is temporary.

…On a happier note, Kyra and Jamil end up having a silly brother-and-sister-like relationship! Looks like Jamil has another person to babysit, and shes even WORSE than Kalim 😭

⑅˚₊ 𝜗𝜚 — OC RELATIONSHIPS !

Kyra & Poppy (@/justm3di0cr3) — “Lil’ sis!” || Both gleeful rays of sunshine that attract people, these two are inseperable! Kyra loves to spoil her little sister rotten with gorgeous dresses she designed, and they often have tea parties together to catch up! They love eachother dearly, and see eachother as family!

Kyra & Paige (@/4necdote) — “Mom!” || Kyra never had a mother, atleast not before Paige. And for that, she loves her so very dearly. Sorry Crewel, but shes a total Mama’s Girl!

Kyra & Elena — “Lil’ sis! pt. 2” || Elena has never been one to trust— But Kyra is just too presistent, too sweet and naive. To trust someone who calls herself a monster… How stupid is she? But even then… Kyra still believes in her. She says that she is kind even after all the betrayal, and deep down Elena wants to believe it too. Kyra sees Elena for who she is, and no one other than Azul and her brothers has done that before.

Kyra & Rory (@/screamintoad) — “Lil’ Bro!” || Complete opposites, both in personality and in style. But that doesn’t stop them at all! Kyra and Rory are dorm mates, but also sibling figures to eachother! Even with how much of a handful Kyra is, Rory always knows how to deal with her. Despite being months younger than Kyra. Safe to say Rory isn’t a stranger to Kyra’s chaos and randomness, and he’ll have to deal with it for life; seeing as they were both adopted by Paige and Crewel. Sibling til’ the end, right? <3

(If you wanna know more about her dynamics with other characters and her personality itself— I suggest looking through my Twst Shennanigans tag!! Its just a bunch of silly incorrect quotes honestly but it shows their dynamics pretty well HAHAHA)

⑅˚₊ 𝜗𝜚 — TRIVIA / FUNFACTS !

Kyra is Twisted from the stereotype of a Disney Princess!

While Kyra may be a stereotype, there are some princesses that I took inspo from the most! Those are: Giselle, Belle, Rapunzel, and Jasmine!! Cinderella and Snow White too, but thats just because theyre basically the disney princess blue print LMAO

^^ Kyra takes a lot of inspiration from Giselle especially!! She has a lot of her mannerisms. (Body language, the hand movements, ykyk)

In the canon storyline, no one knows Kyra’s past as royalty, and she never mentions it. She keeps it hidden throughout the events of the story, as she doesn’t want to remember it.

Kyra has a unique affinity towards animals that make them naturally drawn to her. Funnily enough, this also extends to merfolk and beastmen! Although its much more subtle.

Because of her past, Kyra is new to most things she interacts with in general. She was enamored when she saw a vending machine for the first time.

Kyra is an adrenaline junkie.

Kyra likes to dig through trash cans. Thats it.

With waaay too much energy, Kyra just cant stay still for a minute. Always off on some random side quest, working a part-time job at Sam's just for the fun of it to partying it up with Scarabia, she just can't stick to one thing for too long! She'll disappear for a minute and come back with something completely random. You really never know with her.

Despite how she seems, Kyra does NOTT take shit from anyone. If she doesnt vibe with you, she’ll just leave. And if you piss her off, its on SIGHT. Will absolutely throw hands regardless of who you are

Her single and only fear is Jamil after she does something stupid.

Wanna know my thoughts on why I designed Kyra the way I did? Check out my post here! I go into detail on her character design!~

Transparent PNG of her sprite here!

[awriterinthenight]

"I Think You Look Good in Purple"-George Weasley

requested: anonymous

words: 1054

warnings: a prank, a small argument, reader legit hates life, a decent amount of swearing, not my best work, I wrote this last night, then finished it today cause I was tired last night, so its a bit disjointed I think, idk enjoy though

summary: When one of the Weasley pranks doesn't go as planned and they end up pranking the one Slytherin they like, especially George, George regrets.

Not all Slytherins were horrible, and you proved that. You were kind to first years, befriended muggle-borns, and were just a good person in general. When the twins pranked Slytherin they made sure to keep you out of it as best as possible. Since you weren't an asshole like the others, and also because George Weasley might've had a small crush on you.

The Weasley twins' latest prank didn't go exactly as planned. Their idea was to put a potion in some of the goblets, so that when the people drank it their hair would change to weird colours. They would only put it in some, so that way there would be more chaos when people would point fingers at those whose hair didn't change. The twins made sure to not put the potion in your general area so that you didn't end up with colored hair for weeks.

The only thing the twins didn't account for was you not sitting in your usual spot. So when suddenly during dinner half of the Slytherins turned every colour of the rainbow, and it included you, the twins knew you weren't going to be happy.

Your day was already really shitty so the sudden change in hair colour was unappreciated. The second you say the twins leave the Great Hall you immediately follow after them.

"This was you two, wasn't it," you said fuming, as the two stopped and turned to look at you.

Fred let out a small chuckle, while George stayed rather quiet, "It's just a simple prank. Besides, it'll come out in a couple weeks," Fred said, as if it was the most casual thing ever, which to him it was.

You were still annoyed by the two and their stupidity, "Do you two ever stop and think before you do something stupid," you yelled at them, "Matter of fact do you ever think." You didn't even let them respond before you stormed away, furious as the two redheads.

Fred seemed confused by why she was so angry, "Merlin, who spat in her pumpkin juice."

George finally spoke up, "Well we did technically spike her pumpkin juice. She's just angry at us, just give it some time and hopefully she'll be less angry," he defended, feeling bad for what he did.

The two left it at that and continued on with their day. You on the other hand were having the worst time ever. You had just practically bombed a potions test since who the fuck has all the ingredients for polyjuice potion memorized off the top of their head. Your friend had cancelled on your Hogsmeade trip the upcoming weekend, since their date was more important than the trip you had planned for two weeks, and now to make everything worse, you were stuck with purple hair for weeks.

You were hoping that maybe your luck would be better as your week went on. Apparently you were way too optimistic. While you were the least hated Slytherin, some Gryffindors still hated you just for being a Slytherin, so they were mean to you, calling you things like 'grape-head' which was just stupid, but you know Gryffindors. Some of the muggle-borns called you 'Barney the Dinosaur' behind your back, which you had to admit was a bit funny.

Even worse was that Snape had seemed to try to make you suffer even more by making you work on a potion all week while being partnered with Marcus Flint, who made you want to gouge out your eyes. School in general was also kicking your ass. It was as if every teacher forgot you had other classes. When you tried to get your work done in the library Peeves showed up, disorganizing every book.

By the end of the week you were ready to collapse. The worst was that almost no one noticed, except for your few close friends, but they didn't push much when you said you were fine. The only person to really notice was George Weasley.

He would try to make conversation with you, but you would ignore him, still angry from the dumb prank. He felt truly horrible, but you wouldn't give him the chance to apologise.

George waited outside your class so that he could try to finally apologise, "Hey, Y/N wait," he yelled out when you walked right by him. You continued to ignore him, being stubborn and not wanting to hear what he had to say, "Can you just hear me out for five minutes, please."

You stopped walking, finally giving into the little voice in your head telling you to stop being stubborn and talk to him, "Fine, one minute, make it quick."

"I'm so sorry for what happened. We didn't mean for it to affect you, I even tried to make sure it was nowhere near where you usually sat. I'm just really sorry, please don't hate me anymore," he explained, not wasting a second.

You had basically already forgiven him at this point, but the part about you hating him stuck out to him, "Hate you, why would I hate you?" you questioned him, since he could never make you hate him.

"I-I, umm..." George said stumbling, "I just, you seemed so angry I thought you hated me," he explained, a little bit quieter now.

You let out a breath, "I could never hate you George," you told him, fully meaning it, nothing could make you hate him, "I was just having a shitty day, and I've been having a lot recently."

A soft smile graced George's face at your words, "I'm glad you don't hate me, and I'm sorry about that. I noticed you didn't seem to be your friendly self as much, but maybe now that you don't hate me I can brighten up your day, and make it better," he joked, trying to make you smile, and being successful.

You shook your head at him, "Yeah, yeah, I'm still stuck with this purple hair, so you're not off the hook till it's gone," you said, crossing your arms.

"Well in my defence," George said, twisting a strand of your hair, "I think you look good in purple." You could feel your cheeks heat up and turn red. If you weren't already head over heels for George, you definitely were now. 

Current Taglist (ask to join, also this is for all fics and I write for a diverse amount of fandoms, just an fyi)

@almost-gabrielle @scarlett-8 @atashiboba @that1deerpersondownstairs

[justevelynnnn]

He’s better

Summary: After constant mistreatment from your boyfriend Logan, someone else starts to catch your attention…

Warnings: Smut near the end, cheating mentioned, cussing, logan gets kinda cucked in the end

A/N: I’m in my Scott summers era rn. I’m here to feed all 12 of the cyclops fans with this one💯

You really don’t know how or when this feeling started.

Logan hasn’t been treating you right in ages. The relationship you two started was passionate. But that was the issue. “Passionate” in this case just means sex. Lots of it. And it was cool and all at first, especially because Logan was very good in bed.

Veryyy good.

But that was it.

Valentine’s day came and he did nothing but offer to get you off for a few hours. Couple of lazily thrown rose petals on the bed. A chocolate bar. He never got you flowers or spent actual time with you.

Your final straw was your one year anniversary.

What did he do?

He forgot.

You hinted all day but he just looked at you sideways. Then he had to “leave” early in the day and said he wouldn’t be back for days. You said nothing. You just stared at him as he left with a bag full of clothes, cigars and booze. That was another pet peeve.

He was so bad at communicating. Not even a kiss goodbye nowadays.

You knew what most would ask at this point. What did you think you signed up for??? That was Logan Howlett for you. Cigars for breakfast, Booze for lunch and a combination of both for dinner. And the sex thing was just obvious. That man loved sex but did he reallyyy care for a serious relationship?

Obviously not.

Jean and Scott find you crying outside after Logan left on you guys anniversary and offered to take you out for drinks. You wanted to take your mind off things so you agreed and that night you three went to a nearby bar.

Scott decided to be the driver so he didn’t drink but you drank a few. You and Jean sat at the bar and Scott sat at a booth by the door, looking out the window but also occasionally looking over at you two. Jean also got drunk for some reason, but you later found out it was because her and Scott were also having relationship issues.

Jean was starting to become sloppy and just before you turned to tell Scott, Jean started crying and confessing random things to you. Guilty conscience you supposed. Wasn’t this night for you?

She tells you times she lied to Charles and things she said that she regrets. But one thing stuck out to you.

Apparently, she slept with logan a month ago.

You froze. What?

She claimed she did it to get him off her back and stop flirting but apparently that’s made him worse and now Scott is mad and is threatening to break up with her.

By now she’s crying hysterically and the bartender had told you guys to leave. Scott shakes his head in annoyance and disappointment as he rushed over and apologizes to you.

It was then you thought.

Maybe it’s cause you were tipsy but in the dim, soft light of the bar Scott looked kind of…..hm.

Wait, did he always look this good? No, no, no…well?

Was his jaw always that defined? Wait a minute.

You watched as he carried an inconsolable Jean out the bar.

Those arms…those muscles…

Hm.

Scott broke up with Jean the next day.

Logan was still gone so you had your shared room to yourself but you supposed you’d break up with him too. Not that he’d care since he couldn’t take you seriously.

You were still very hurt as you sat in the kitchen at the island with a glass of wine. How’d you get hung over from a few drinks? Your head pounded while your heart hurt with sadness.

Scott came in a few minutes after you got settled.

“Hey, y/n…” He said as he walked to the fridge.

You mumbled a soft “hey.” as you looked up at him.

Why was he shirtless? Good lord.

Those abs…

Maybe you were still drunk because Scott was looking very sexy right now.

“Hey, sorry for last night again.. I don’t know what’s gotten into her..” Scott sighed and put his hands on his hips. “I’ve been nothing but loyal to her.”

“You and me both..” You said sadly. You didn’t even realize how you and Scott were in the same boat of being cheated on.

Scott smirked as he saw you still staring at his torso.

“Feeling all right over there?” He asked, playing innocent.

You jump. Shit, has he caught on already? You quickly replied, “Oh, yeah yeah, just.. bit hungover I guess.”

He nodded and moved to sit next to you still smiling.

“I got a few remedies for that yknow…”

You could also smell his breath now. Minty.

Hundred times better than beer or whiskey. Actually clean.

He was so close now as he leaned in a bit. He licked his lips too. Those lips..so many details about him you never noticed til now… You could feel his eyes on you as you shifted in your seat. Remedies? You hated where your mind was going.

His “remedy” was to eat food and not drink more.

You felt like a dumbass. You needed to get your mind out the fucking gutter.

And this stuff went on for a bit.

In the few days Logan was still gone you stole many glances at Scott. One day, you caught him in just gray sweatpants working out. You watched as his body moved, glistening with sweat. Listening to his grunting. Then looking away when he looked your way.

You didn’t know what got into you either but you just couldnt shake Scott off your mind.

You thought about him when you woke up, went to bed, worked out, watched tv…

He ran circles.

And he was so kind to you after Logan got back. You and him had an argument about Jean and how he forgot the anniversary thing a few days ago. He said some hurtful things to you. Really hurtful. Scott comforted you as you cried again, rubbing your shoulder and telling you everything it gonna be okay.

He brought you a few flowers with a ribbon tied around the stems.

“Just something to cheer you up.” He said smiling at you.

He cooked you dinner another day—your favorite foods too, how interesting, how’d he know?— and even offered to teach you after you ate it and complemented his cooking.

This went on for weeks. This “nice” thing quickly turned into flirting.

It horribly irritated Logan to see but he says nothing much.

Jean apologized to you again and again and you didn’t know if you ever really wanted to accept her apology. She stayed away from logan now, responding harshly to his attempts of flirting. It was his “fault” she lost Scott she’d tell him.

And she was so caught up with teaching she didn’t notice how close you and Scott were becoming either.

You were worried. Scott made you melt but you were worried if you were just some rebound or if you slept with him it would just be some stupid payback to logan. How would you know if he was just buttering you up just to get between your legs and then leave?

But maybe you were too swooned to care. You started to hang out with him more and more, like you teo were already dating. You thought, why not? He was sweet to you, caring, patient…

He even opened up to you. No offense to Logan but you were tired of prying for answers on true feelings.

One afternoon, after a month of heavy flirting and sneaky touches, you were in his bed. One thing led to another and now you two were sloppily making out, hastily removing clothes from each other. The door was left wide open. You were worried if anyone would hear and tried to tell Scott but he ignored you, pulling your panties off.

Maybe he wanted a certain someone to hear..

“You’re so beautiful, y/n.” Scott said taking your nude body in, probably saving a mental image.

Scott was in nothing but his boxers now. You could see the semi-hard on. You were no longer distracted by the open door. He was big alright. Not that Logan was too but with Scott it was more length than girth.

“Scott…this is…i still haven’t broken up with him yet…are you sure we should be doing this?” You breathed. You wanted this…so bad. But it wasn’t right.

“So? Mentally, you have. Plus..”, He kisses your neck and whispers in your ear, “He doesn’t know how to treat someone like you clearly.”

His soft voice sends shivers down your spine. He gently thrusts against you once more as you softly moan his name. He’s right. Logan didn’t know how to treat you. Not anymore at least. He was always rough and quick with you but Scott…so patient, calm. Soft.

Scott kisses you one more time then he gets up to grab a condom (be safe guys!) and pulled his boxers down.

“Fuck…” You say barely audible but Scott hears you and smirks.

“Like what you see?”

You just nod. He was beautiful. Head to toe. And where has he been hiding all of that dick?

Scott climbs on top of you once more, rubbing and kissing all over you. Practically worshiping your entire body. Savoring you like he will never fuck anyone ever again.

He rubs your clit once more, preparing you for when he enters and asks you if you’re ready. Again, all you could do is nod as he lines himself up with you. He tells you to take a deep breath and let him know if he needs to stop at any point. God, he was so so gentle with you.

It was definitely a stretch.

It’s been awhile honestly. Scott let you adjust as you heard your breath hitch. He rubs comforting circles on your clit once more and kissed your lips softly.

Once you were ready he started to move. He was nice and slow at first, giving you a few good deep thrusts. It didn’t take long for him to bottom you out. Then he changed to a pace that was quicker. Still deep, but faster. The headboard on his bed started to bang against the wall.

You were worried people would hear but what you didn’t know was Scott picked a perfect time to fuck you like this. The students were on a field trip and the other xmen were with them. It was just you and Scott today.

And Logan.

You sound like a broken record at this point, calling Scott’s name over and over. Moaning things that barely make any sense. The sheets below you are already damp. Scott barely made any noise as he thrusted into you. Listening to the wet slapping noises coming from you two. And for any other reaction…

You really forgot about the open door the second Scott was inside you. You begged him to go faster faster faster until you felt like the bed could soon break from how quick it was moving and how loud it was.

A few positions later and you were getting close. Scott had you on your hands and knees now though he had pushed your face into the bed. You were out of it, nearing an orgasm. He had you facing the door but face down. He could hear footsteps as you whine about how close you were. Knowing you was coming only got him closer too. As he saw a shadow appear he quickly told you to tell him, “Who’s making you feel like this? Tell me and then you can cum.”

“Y-you Scott! Fuck- You! Scott you!” A muffled voice in the sheets. You were so cockdrunk you couldn’t even hear someone approaching the door.

You finally came in one of your most intense orgasms yet, moaning Scott’s name loudly once more.

Scott soon followed but what you didn’t see what how he was staring right into Logan’s eyes as he came inside of you. Biting his lip, glaring at him as he sloppily gave you his final thrusts.

You plopped onto the bed when it was all over but your attention was soon caught again as you heard the familiar sharp snnnnkt sound and a growl right in front of you.

“You gonna tell me to stay away from your girl?” Scott said in a mocking tone. “Toooo late…”

[flippinpancakes64]

carlisle or the cullens with a reader that is a YAPPER and a complainer? like just doesnt shut up loves to rant about anything all the time and is quite honest always giving her honest opinion about everything

love your writing and the way you write hcs for him/them!!! hope you have a good day :)

Carlisle Cullen with a reader who loves to talk

Thank you so much! I try my best to be as inclusive as possible cause it’s always been my biggest pet peeve when writing is so narrow and specific.

And I’m questioning again whether you guys are inside my walls or not because this is SO me. I love to complain, I’m a chronic yapper. No one can stop me. That’s why I’m a writer

Thank you for requesting and I hope you enjoy!

It’s honestly very refreshing for him

People lie all of the time

And he’s so used to being around people who are so emotionally constipated that he never knows what’s really wrong (*cough Edward cough*)

So it’s nice to know exactly what you’re thinking all the time

Don’t worry, he never gets annoyed

It’s not like you’re taking up valuable time of his life

If he has stuff that he REALLY needs to get done but can’t because you’re yapping his ear off, he can just wait until you go to sleep

At first, he tried to give you advice

But let’s be honest, that’s not what you want

You just want to complain about the bitch that almost hit you in the store

Not hear about how she might have been having a bad day or whatever

So he learned pretty quickly to just listen

He also loves to listen to you rant

He is genuinely interested in whatever you have to say

So if you want to tell him every single fact about your latest hyper fixation, he’s all ears

Being a vampire as well, he can split his attention perfectly

So he doesn’t mind if you want to rant while he’s finishing up some paperwork or cleaning the house

If anyone ever tells you that you’re annoying, you talk too much, you need to shut up, etc, he shuts it down so quick

He loves you for you

He would never ask you to change

And he definitely doesn’t want anyone else to try and change you

So yeah he doesn’t tolerate that shit

Overall, he loves you and is always willing to listen

The only time he wouldn’t would be if you call him while he’s at the clinic or something

And even then, he might just put an earbud in and listen to you while giving a patient an exam

You fill his world with so much life and excitement

He can’t imagine you not being there anymore

And anytime you’re not around, he wonders how he was ever okay with the silence

[skamenglishsubs]

Subtext and Culture, Young Royals, Season 3, Episode 1

Season 3 picks up a short while after the jubilee speech by Wilhelm. Both Wilhelm and Sara have been absent from school for a noticeable amount of time, so maybe a week or two later? The show isn't very diligent in ensuring a perfect timeline, but this would put us in early March perhaps? Anyway, we're off to the castle for a meeting to deal with the fallout of Wilhelm's speech and Sara reporting the video to the police.

Subtext: The Queen is so pissed she's not even looking at her son, a reversal from the opening to season 2, when Wilhelm was pretty pissed at his mom.

Subtext: This is probably the first time that Wilhelm gets a hint that the Queen is seriously ill.

Cinematography: Same procedure as last season! Every season opens with a fourth wall break where Wilhelm stares in to the camera during the opening titles, defiant as ever.

Culture: For practical reasons the end of season 2 was filmed in April 2022, while the beginning of season 3 was filmed in February 2023. That said, the spring in Sweden can be pretty fickle, and it's not uncommon to have surprise snowfall as late as April. If you want a cinematographic interpretation of this scene, it's supposed to show how cold and unwelcome Simon feels arriving at the royal palace.

Cinematography: In reality, the monarch would be the last one entering a meeting after everyone else has arrived, but having Simon arrive like this makes it look more like he's entering a court of justice or some kind of disciplinary meeting. It's of course not a coincidence that the royal family represented by Jan-Olof is all on one side of the table, while everyone who has been causing them problems is on the other side.

Subtext: Jan-Olof is trying to minimize the video, by using "so-called", and by calling it an intimate video and not a porn video. However, for something to fall under the definition of "revenge porn", it's enough to depict people in an intimate situation, it doesn't have to meet the much higher threshold for when it's considered actual pornography, so he's at least admitting that it was an illegal video.

Culture: Nordiska Motståndsrörelsen is unfortunately a real organization of actual neo-nazi white supremacists in Sweden, with offshoots in neighbouring countries.

Lost in translation: The subtitles are struggling here, it's "piss person" in one, and "shitty person" in the other. The former is literally what they're saying in Swedish, but the latter is probably the better expression in English.

Also, we've been told that August's stepdad, Rickard, is one of Sweden's best lawyers. What that means is that he is probably a well-known criminal defence lawyer, and has probably been handling the defence in high-profile cases, and if you're defending obviously guilty criminals, you tend to get a lot of shit from the media and people in general, even though what you're doing is necessary for a fair justice system. This sounds like his way of dealing with that.

Culture: It's a pet peeve of mine that no-one seems to know that the name of the Swedish currency in English is kronor, not crowns. Simon is getting 1.2 million kronor, which amounts to about 105,000€ or $115,000.

Subtext: Linda isn't wrong, they're being strong-armed here. They have some sort of legal counsel, and they wouldn't have to pay any trial costs even if they don't win, but they can't afford to match the resources that August's stepdad can bring, and might get nothing in the end.

Culture: We don't know what Årnäs looks like or how large the estate is, but a quick check shows that you can buy a typical manor house and some farmland in Sweden for tens of millions of kronor. However, the amount of land that some of the other guys were boasting about at the Society party in season 1 would be worth several hundreds of millions of kronor, so it's unlikely that Årnäs is as large as that, because August would have a lot more options if his total net worth was in that ballpark.

Culture: Realistically, Simon isn't wrong. Even if August was convicted on all points, he wouldn't be sentenced harshly because of his age, because he's a first-time offender, and because it's a non-violent crime. He would most likely just be fined a large amount of money and ordered to pay damages, so settling isn't that bad.

Cinematography: The low winter sun creates some lovely golden light, so we know we're in for some sweet love between the boys. Another detail is the difference in how they're dressed and how they're carrying themselves. Wilhelm is tall and proud, he's at home, he's in a suit, he's sure of himself, while Simon is the guest, the intruder, and is almost shrinking away in his oversized purple shirt and jeans. Yes, yes, colour theory, I know.

Subtext: A nice little flashback to season 1 when Wilhelm said the same thing when he visited Simon's place.

Lost in translation: Simon is actually saying "Var det såhär i din dröm?" - "Was it like this in your dream?", which is a reference to the rather steamy dream Wilhelm had at the start of season 2, when he was lying in this exact bed.

Subtext: Absolutely no-one is fooled, everyone knows our two idiot boys were sucking each other's face a minute ago.

Subtext: Both Linda and the Queen are hearing about their sons' awful behaviour for the first time at this meeting. Linda had no idea Simon had been dealing drugs, and Kristina had no idea Wilhelm threatened August with a gun.

Culture: I have no idea here. There's no real-world example for this in Sweden, you can't put someone into the line of succession by giving them a title. The show is just hand-waving this. Alright. Ok. Fine.

Culture: All adults in the line of succession can be called upon to be acting Head of State, if the monarch is indisposed or on vacation or something. This means that once Wilhelm is 18, he would occasionally have to step in and do the job, even though he's not king yet. If there are no royals available for this, the duty falls to the speaker of the house, Riksdagens Talman.

Cinematography: We're returning to Hillerska after the episode intro at the royal palace, so we're treated to a little montage of what those gosh darn rich kids have been up to in the meanwhile, so here's a horse to remind us that some of them are still riding! This is the only horse we'll be seeing this season, because the show really isn't about Rousseau after all.

Subtext: Madison is doing Tarot, and she's got Three of Wands reversed and Four of Wands reversed. The first one represents obstacles and lack of progress, and the second one represents home conflict, instability, and lack of support. A bit on the nose, don't you think?

Subtext: It's true, but the show is also calling out itself for the somewhat inconsistent weather we've been seeing due to actual shooting schedules.

Culture: Graduating gymnasiet in Sweden has a bunch of elements that are the same pretty much across the country, and then there are regional differences and individual school differences. I recognize only a few of the things Fredrika rattles off, but it makes sense that a place like Hillerska has a ton of traditions.

Subtext: All the girls have noticed that Felice isn't doing too great, but Madison appears to be the only one that actually cares. Fredrika still hasn't stopped talking about all the crap the third-years are gonna do, because that's apparently more exciting. However, the trucks she's talking about are pretty common, this is what we in Sweden call a Studentflak.

@hanna-kin wrote a long post on Swedish graduation traditions, and I reblogged and added some stuff here: https://www.tumblr.com/skamenglishsubs/684659770007961600/its-that-time-of-the-year-again-and-if-season-2

Culture: It seems Minou isn't the head of PR for the royal court anymore, this is Farima, and we've actually seen her all the way back in season 1 when she was instructing Wilhelm to smile more in the photographs. Either way, it seems like she's got a promotion, and she's probably not wrong in her assessment. A bunch of old farts would balk at the idea of the monarch being in a same-sex relationship, but a lot of others would see it is proof that the monarchy can change with the times. There were quite a lot of fans in Team Monarchy after all. 👑🌈

Lost in translation: Linda actually says "Du har utegångsförbud", which means curfew. Grounding kids isn't really a thing in Sweden, to us it's some kind of weird thing that only happens in American teen shows, along with detention. What the fuck even is that?

Subtext: Unlike in season 1, Simon now consistently speaks Swedish at home to his mom, further showing us how distant he is from her, and from himself to some extent.

Lost in translation: Linda actually calls Sara a "hemmasittare", which is a Swedish term used for kids who simply refuse to attend school, typically for mental health reasons. What to do about the problem is a hotly debated political issue, and let's leave it at that.

Subtext: This is how the culture of secrecy and solidarity against outsiders work at schools like this. Everyone is abused, everyone participates in abusing younger students, and everyone is told to shut up about it. Every house guards their "secret" initiations to outsiders, to foster loyalty to each other, to your house, and to the school. It's cult behaviour 101.

Cinematography: The show does it's usual trick with the sound design where all outside noise disappears as Simon and Wilhelm retreat into their little bubble, but there are still people in the frame this time, even though we can't hear them, because this time they're snogging in public. Oh, and everyone needs to update their colour theory, new colours dropped, pink and orange, what does it all mean??!?

Blink and you miss it: The list of activities for the point hunt includes:

Tattoo "Hillerska 4-life" on your arm.

Take a selfie at the back of a police car.

Give someone a buzz cut.

Dance the balloon dance in public.

Sext a teacher.

Get a piercing somewhere.

Blink and you miss it: I love Vincent so much, he's just the worst. Oh, and it looks like he's wearing a $2000 Valentino sweater, but I'm not 100% certain.

Subtext: Neither Ayub nor Rosh agrees with Simon when he says he's gonna reply to idiots online, but unfortunately they're not telling him off, because that would lead to less drama in the season.

Blink and you miss it: Ayub and Rosh are talking about going on a hike to Talludden with their school, Marieberg, which is why we're gonna encounter them out in the woods in the next episode. Spoiler alert!

Subtext: Wilhelm puts up the first stanza of a poem by Karin Boye called The Shield Maiden. In English, the poem goes: I dreamed about swords last night. I dreamed about battle last night. I dreamed I fought by your side armoured and strong, last night.

Blink and you miss it: Wilhelm's desk has a ton of stuff, but he's also kept the broken frog prince snowglobe, and he's still got Erik's lighter and cigarette case from season 2.

Lost in translation: The comment in Swedish uses the word "bögar", which isn't quite as offensive as "fags". However, it's more offensive than "gays", so I understand why the subtitles went with this choice. It's one of those words that is offensive or not depending on context, and it's certainly offensive in this one.

Subtext: The soundtrack is on point as usual, highlighting the animosity between Wilhelm and August.

Blink and you miss it: Someone ordered a Horse Girl Desk™ from the props department, and they sure delivered all the horsey things! The book is the Swedish edition of Not on a White Horse by Nancy Springer:

From the day twelve-year-old Rhiannon spots a lost white Arabian gelding in the woods near her small Pennsylvania mining town, her life finds a focus as she learns to deal with family problems and decides the direction her life will take.

As you do.

Subtext: As a throwback to season 1, this time it's Sara's turn to make a surprise visit at their dad's. He is surprised and starts cleaning up his place, but he seems to be in better shape than when Simon originally turned up. His place is just messy, there are no signs of drinking and smoking unlike last time we saw him.

Culture: Who goes to New York to suntan? No-one sane, but sun-starved Scandinavians get a bit of cabin fever after a long dark winter.

Culture: Fake IDs aren't really a thing in Sweden, you're allowed to legally drink at 18, and underage kids are much more likely to have an older friend or sibling or alcoholic parent buy them some booze for a private party instead. Sure, they exist, but equipping your friend group with a bunch of fake IDs to go clubbing is not how it's done.

Subtext: Simon drew a heart on Wilhelm's hand and suggested he get that as a tattoo. Wilhelm objected because he's "not allowed to" as a royal, but here he is, redrawing it on himself, almost as if he's toying with the thought, defying the rules.

Subtext: Simon doesn't know anything about the initiations since he's a lowly external student, and even though they're boyfriends, Wilhelm automatically tries to play it down. He knows it's true though, he doesn't question that, he just doesn't want Simon to know about it because it's humiliating to talk about it.

Cinematography: A++ Main Villain Entry Walk.

Culture: The Swedish Schools Inspectorate is a very real government agency that has the very real power to shut down schools that are mismanaged in any way, either academically, or socially.

Culture: Just a quick reminder that every single third-year student is 18 or 19 years old at this point in time, and therefore they are legal adults, which means the school has less authority over them. However, since it's a boarding school, they can enact and enforce regulations for boarders, and kick them out from their houses if they disobey the rules, which effectively kicks them out of the school while technically not doing that.

Cinematography: I love the camera angle here where we just about see Vincent giving Wilhelm the evil eye for indirectly causing this.

As a closing note, this season felt a lot less subtexty to me, compared to previous seasons. On the other hand, a recurring theme now is the airing of secrets, of exposing the systems that create toxic environments like this, so in line with the theme, a lot of characters are voicing things that were left unsaid in previous seasons.

[maximumqueer]

A big pet peeve of mine regarding Garp is when people discuss him as if he was Luffy and Ace's (and briefly Sabo's) parental figure. Because he wasn't, or at the very least was not a good parental figure. That role goes to Dadan.

It wasn't Garp who went in after Ace and Luffy when Grey Terminal was burning and they were trapped there. It was Dadan. She was the one who provided them shelter, who (along with the rest of the bandits) patched them up when they were injured. She was the one who they said goodbye to (who was THERE to be said goodbye to) when they set out to sea. She, despite the tough act she put on, so clearly loved and cared for Ace and Luffy, to the point where she cried when they left and (rightfully) beat the shit out of Garp when she learned about the events at Marineford.

And this isn't to say that Garp doesn't love Ace and Luffy. I do think that despite his minimal screen/page time in the Post War Arc, it it clear that he does love his grandchildren. However, it is also abundantly clear that his sense of duty and obligation to the Marines supersedes any love and care he has for them. Hell, he is more of a parental figure to Koby and Helmeppo, and that is because they are Marines. I am certain that if Luffy and Ace had actually listened to Garp and joined the Marines that he would have been far more present in their life, and would have acted far more like an actual grandfather to them.

It is so clear that his love is in part conditional. He can laugh and act proud of Luffy's accomplishments as a pirate all he wants, it still does not change the fact that he abandoned him and Ace as children, and continued to work for a corrupt military system that directly caused Ace's death at Marineford.