#definitely not stolen!

[cheap-jumpscare]

im a mess

[binglepringle]

Batgirl, the World’s Prettiest Princess™️🫶🏼✨

[noyzinerd]

Sterek Rival Lawyers AU

It's A (Court) Date

Imagine, high-class, Ivy League, hot-shot, attorney Derek comes back from New York to the family firm to take over as partners with his sister after his parents decide to step down. He may not be on the level of his mother yet, but he's cut his teeth against Wall Street wolves and ruthless white-collar sharks. Derek's more than proved himself, so he just can't fathom these small criminal court cases his family is making him take "before he's truly ready" to be a part of the family business.

Enter in his first case. Right out the gate, the state assigned defense is, not only late to court, but also arrives in a flurry of limbs and papers, tripping all over himself, and profusely apologizing to the room as a whole. "Sorry! Sorry! Car trouble!"

The guy is out of breath, tie crooked and hair a mess. It makes Derek wrinkle his nose at the unprofessionalism and the blatant disrespect to everyone's valuable time.

The presiding judge, the Honorable Ms. Lydia Martin, only sighs a heavy sigh, as if this sight is nothing new, and says "Mr. Stilinski, I suggest you don't let it happen again."

Derek is honestly getting annoyed by how easy this is going to be. He could've been doing literally anything else right about now rather than being here going against a common rent-a-lawyer with some Podunk community-college degree. The opening statement for the defense is laughably inept. Full of nervous stuttering, backtracking, running tangents, and babbling. He's still apologizing, trying to assure the jury that he's just having an off-day today.

It's embarrassing to watch.

Nonetheless, Derek goes through the motions, practiced and poised. Examines all the evidence, presenting times and dates, prior arrest records, the works.

During this time, Mr. Stilinski is frantically (and VERY LOUDLY) flitting through a cartoonishly large stack of papers and whispering to his client. Derek has to fight to grit his teeth through his presentation.

Finally, it's time for Mr. Stilinski to cross-examine Derek's client and, unbeknownst to him, the beginning of Derek's long, long spiral of madness for the rest of his career.

"Judge Martin, I would like to move to have this case thrown out."

"Oh?" asks Judge Martin. For some reason, there's an amused smirk, almost fond, tugging at her lips "On what grounds?"

A giddy, almost manic, grin takes over the defense attorney's face just then. "On the grounds that the prosecution's client is full of bullshit."

The judge rolls her eyes and an exasperated "Stiles," slips from her lips, seemingly against her will. (Derek's not really surprised by the familiarity between the two of them. With how often state-assigned lawyers are called to the courtroom on small cases, it wouldn't be too big of a leap to suggest they might be chummy.)

"Respectfully, of course." Mr. Stilinski--er Stiles?--winks back at her.

"Objection. Your honor, this is ridiculous."

"Overruled. Make your point, Stilinski."

"Mr. Davis says he saw my client at 12:30 P.M., on August 4th, attempting to take his back-right hubcap outside his apartment. Mr. Davis' apartment complex at that time, on that particular day, would have cast a huge shadow over the back lot as evidenced by the gaudy sundial-art-installation outside the courthouse. Meanwhile, my client's picture, when taken in for questioning, has a sunburn on the entire right side of his face. This would corroborate Mr. Lyle's story of walking home alone, down the upper, unshaded side of Elmore Street, during one of the hottest days of the year, for an hour straight. Also, the fact that Mr. Davis has no realistic idea how long it would actually take a person to steal a hubcap should be evidence enough."

"Uh-huh. And this wouldn't happen to be something you've ever had any expertise in, would it, counsel?"

"I plead the 5th."

And just like that, Derek's case is thrown out so quick, he's still reeling about it all the way home.

For the next two years, this becomes Derek's life. This man, this Stiles Stilinski, keeps showing up like a whirlwind and absolutely puts him in his paces.

Stiles, as he insists Derek call him, is a powerhouse. Relentless and unstoppable. That mouth can filibuster for literal hours (which, for those unfamiliar, is when someone legally cannot be forced to give up their time on the floor as long as they can keep talking), that brain quick as a whip, with a hunger for research, a mastery of the English language svelte enough to trip up even the most well-rehearsed lie, and an attention to detail like nothing Derek has ever witnessed before. It's like he knows every law inside and out. Lives it. Breathes it. It's like he had been raised on the law his whole life. Not only that, it's like Stiles enjoys it. Every case is a new game to get excited about.

All of it makes Derek's blood boil.

However, it's not always about losing to Stiles all the time, because, honestly, that might be less humiliating.

In truth, when faced against Stiles, Derek's bound to win about 60% of the time. Out of that 60%, only 5% of those wins actually feel earned. As for the other 55%?

He knows Stiles is letting him win.

Derek can't prove it, but he knows the asshole is holding back on purpose nearly half the time. Knowing that Stiles could have beaten him if he wanted to, but didn't, is somehow more frustrating than just losing.

He hates Stiles.

He hates that the guy is so chipper and playful all the damn time. He hates that Stiles could probably work at any firm he wanted, could make enough money to get a decent car that doesn't shit out all the time, could buy a proper-fitting suit, but instead CHOOSES to stay here "watching out for the little guy", as he so put it.

He hates that facing Stiles in court is the most challenged, the most motivated he's ever felt in his entire life. He hates that Stiles brings out in him the spark of passion and drive Derek had long thought had died. He hates that Stiles always tries to banter with him during recess or whenever they have to exchange evidence.

He hates finding out that Stiles only loses cases on purpose when his endless amounts of research points to the defendant actually being guilty of horrendous crimes, because Stiles is a good fucking person.

He hates Stiles' constant teasing and he hates that Stiles is somehow able to bring Derek down to his childish level to tease back. He hates how much he looks forward to court-dates with Stiles now. He hates being invited out by Stiles over and over to grab a bite together after a long day, as if Stiles hasn't been wiping the floor with him on this case for the last month. He hates it even more that he always accepts and that now they have their own designated booth at the diner across the street. Derek's so unbelievably frustrated, it makes him want to bite Stiles at the neck just to hear that smartass mouth squeal.

"Hey, I ever tell you I was thinking of quitting before you arrived?" Stiles asks one night as they're walking to their cars.

Derek's head immediately snaps to him at that. "What?"

Stiles smiles distantly at the thought. "Oh, yeah. Things had started feeling like being trapped in a cubicle, y'know? There wasn't any challenge in it anymore."

"What made you stay?"

"Well...you did. You were the first, serious competition I'd faced in a while. It wasn't a matter of winning just to win, anymore. Going against you always reminded me of the reason why it was important for me to win. It gave me stakes, because now there was an actual chance I could lose and an innocent person could go to jail. You, I don't know, kinda reignited my passion for fighting the good fight, I guess."

Derek can feel his heart thumping hard in his chest. He wants to say 'You did the same for me!' He wants to tell Stiles that he didn't think his life could ever be this fun or happy or messy or chaotic or exhilarating or challenging or fulfilling before coming to Beacon Hills.

But just as Derek goes to open his mouth to sing Stiles' praises, he instead finds himself roughly shoving him up against the Camaro and biting hungrily at that mouth and tongue that's been the bane of his existence. There's a surprised little squeak that Derek quickly swallows up, but it isn't long before they're both tearing at each others' clothes and fucking each other dirty in the backseat of Derek's car.

What's crazy is, after they get together, nothing in their careers really changes. The only difference is now they get to fuck each others' brains out after an intense battle in court (and the sound Stiles makes when Derek bites him is exactly what he always imagined it would sound like). They still face against each other on opposite sides in court. They still give it everything they got, no conceding even if they are dating now. Not to mention, Derek wouldn't dream of tempting Stiles over to his firm. Not when he knows Stiles is at his best staying where he's at.

The day Derek's family finally decides it's time for him to take over the firm with Laura is the best day of his and Stiles' lives.

Not only does Derek tell them he's declining, he hires Stiles as his attorney to negotiate terms against his entire family of well-seasoned lawyers.

The entire month-long negotiation results in Derek, not saying a single word, but absolutely beaming as he watches his boyfriend run circles around his mother, his father, his uncle, and both of his sisters on contracts. It's so unbelievably hot, they're banging on whatever flat surface they can get their hands on every time they leave the boardroom. There's even one very memorable blowjob in the empty hall outside the boardroom when Stiles somehow manages to get Peter to agree to a (most likely illegal) clause dictating the firm will pay Stiles a finder's fee for any pro-bono case Stiles takes on outside of Beacon Hills that strikes his fancy.

And, no one says it, but they all know Derek definitely, 100%, dragged his own firm through this negotiation just to show off how incredible Stiles is to his family and preen about it.

--

Fast-forward, Derek is going to be in the audience for the first time for one of Stiles' cases.

While waiting in the hall, Derek sees a familiar face from his New York days. The prosecution has hired the eighth best lawyer money can get, Jackson Whittemore. He's sporting a Rolex, sunglasses indoors, and the face of someone who thinks he's above literally every other person in town.

Well, at least until he sees Derek.

For some reason, Jackson seems to think Derek is all the way out in the middle of nowhere to 'watch a master at work' (which...well...is technically true...).

As Derek goes to sit in the audience, Jackson tells him in passing, "This'll be over so fast, probably won't even get a chance to learn the other guy's name."

Derek chuckles and says back, "Ooh, buddy, you have no idea."

Before Jackson can think more on that, a whirlwind of limbs and papers suddenly hurls through the doors.

Derek sits back, gets comfy, and waits eagerly for the show to begin.

My first moodboard. Hope you enjoy. AU based on a discussion with @casually-eat-my-soul (I suggest checking out their version). This was kind of like a divergence from that (the brain juices just started flowing).

[abzania]

Aziraphale looks at Crowley like he hung the stars.

Because he did.

[skrunksthatwunk]

kurama has access to forbidden strains + shiori wedding shenanigans

[kenneduck]

Riju has the comfiest bed in Hyrule. With the blankets and seals, it’s the softest, comfiest, most calming bed to sleep in. During BOTW years, Link knocked out on it unbeknownst to Riju. He experienced the true luxury of a comfortable bed. He slept in longer than he ever had before. (not including the 100 year sleep) When Riju headed to bed herself, she was surprised to see the chaotic wild gremlin hero snoring and cuddling her stuffed seals. Looking so peaceful. It made her happy to know he could rest and feel so safe. She didn’t dare to wake him. Even though that meant him sleeping for a solid 14 hours straight.

Whenever Riju notices Link looking sore or beaten up, she asks if he’d be interested in a sleepover. Sure, she has fun trying on Link’s clothes as he tries on hers. Or doing each other’s makeup. That, and he’s basically her older brother at this point. But, what she enjoys most is knowing he’s getting some of the best sleep in his life. Also, there’s the added bonus of sneaking pictures of Link cuddling her stuffed seals to tease him about when he’s awake.

[chimchiri]

Little bonus from the Harrow + Glasses ask

Paranoid Harrow has successfully kept her dark secret of terrible eyesight from Griddle for years. Until she ran out of contacts (or simply forgot them) in the chaos of Canaan house. Gideon cannot unsee the googly eyes.

I couldn't get a version with her face paint on which I liked - forgive me !

[basslinegrave]

whatchu thinking about. nothing? just the changes to garys design and his character evolution and growth and everything. 24/7. you know. and the fact that even if he changed, hes still the same at his core!

[cheap-jumpscare]

You. YOUUUU I KNOW YOU. I DIND’T KNOW YOU WERE HERE.

IVE BEEN A TUMBLR USERNSOMCE 2020???

[the-moonprophet]

A lil something for my fellow BBC Merlin fans out there: imagine a fic written from the POV of Cedric from the Curse of Cornelius Sigan episode…

As a thief, Cedric is willing to go to any lengths to get his hands on valuable riches. So when he has to infiltrate the castle and gain Prince Arthur’s trust, so be it.

He manages to get under Arthur’s wing by humiliating the Prince’s servant, Merlin. It’s easy enough; the boy's an absolute moron. But it amazes Cedric that, even in the boy's absence, the Prince will not stop talking about him.

Granted, it's mostly insults, but it gets old nonetheless. With the Prince, it's always, “Merlin this," and "Merlin that." Cedric can't wait to get his hands on the key to the tomb so he can pillage the treasure and get out of Camelot.

Finally, Cedric sees his plan coming together when he stages an accident in the stables and blames it on Merlin. He suggests to the angry Prince that, "Merlin’s tired." He wasn’t confident about this part, but somehow, it convinced Arthur to give Merlin the day off.

With the oddly perceptive boy out of the way, Cedric is granted the position of Arthur’s manservant for the rest of the day. This is perfect, considering Cedric’s plan is going along nicely, but there's a downside; now, he has to listen to even more Merlin talk.

"I don't see why he can't just take care of himself. It’s a basic human function," Arthur grumbles as Cedric serves him dinner.

"I mean, is it really that difficult to get a full night's sleep?" the Prince mutters from the bath while Cedric waits patiently for orders.

"And don't even get me started on his personal hygiene!" Arthur groans as he gets ready for bed. "I mean, really! Is he so exhausted that he can't even spare a few minutes to bathe?"

"Yes, my lord," Cedric repeats for the billionth time. He cannot wait until he never has to say those words again. Will this royal prat of a Prince ever shut up about his servant? It’s just strange—they’re strange.

Arthur heaves a sigh, plucking his keys off his waist and tucking them into his bedside drawer, mumbling something about incompetence. To Cedric, he was beginning to sound like an irritated housewife.

It isn’t long before Arthur’s grumbles are replaced with snores, and Cedric launches to action. He plucks the keys from the bedside drawer and creeps toward the door, but not before staring down at the unconscious Prince. Considering how easy it had been for Cedric to pull this off, Prince Arthur doesn’t seem like a very capable ruler. If he can’t even keep his keys safe, how can he protect an entire kingdom?

Although, as Arthur rolls over and murmurs an all-too familiar name in his sleep, Cedric considers the importance of a lowly servant. It’s a position of great trust (which is probably why Arthur didn’t think twice about falling asleep with a stranger in his room). A person this close to the Prince during his personal moments is expected to assist in the mundane—like making sure his belongings are kept safe while he sleeps, for example.

Cedric allows that, given the treatment Prince Arthur is used to, the man might not expect betrayal from his servant.

Cedric thinks about the Prince’s real servant, doing who-knows-what after that stables incident. Merlin had caught onto him unusually quickly. Normally, Cedric has a few days before anyone suspects him.

It’s odd, the close attention Merlin paid—not just to Cedric, but to Arthur. Almost as though he wishes to protect him, but how could a servant protect the strongest knight in Camelot?

The boy had seemed a bit too devoted to his Prince… Cedric wonders what that’s all about.

Well, no matter now. It’s time to get rich.

Cedric stalks out of the room.

[threepandas]

Bad End: Stolen

I was furious.

Terrified. Completely enraged. Sick to my stomach. Overwhelmed and yet expected to function. To keep my shaking hands smooth and screaming thoughts orderly. All I wanted to do want scream. Cry. Destroy and destroy, weep and RAGE.

Then hide in a closet under blankets until the monsters went away.

But... but he wasn't going too, was he?

"Ah, my honored Sister, how good of you to join me." Greets the murderer before me, voice cool and smooth like the scales of a snake. There is a gleefully victorious lilt to that voice. A curling possessiveness to the title.

I am not his sister. We are not ever REMOTELY related. It is not even a matter of me disowning him for what he's down. It is simple truth. We are not, by blood, related. We were not RAISED together. Our relation? A farce. A legal machination by my... my Father, oh gods... No! Don't get swallowed by the memories! T-The blood. Focus!!

Fafnir is... WAS just one of many promising, talented, ambitious young men with no father's that DEFINITELY were my Father's bastard sons, no really. He most certainly wasn't COLLECTING meritorious youth into our house, under his name, and training them up with his wealth and influence. To bypass the bullshit class system and give them a chance at better lives!

Maybe suggest they pay it forward.

My father would never be so duplicitous. No, no, he was just a very lustful man... that no one ever saw going out to have sex. Who's wife had never been the least bit upset with him. And to whom he was fiercely loyal. Yes. Very, very lustful my father... w-was.

It was just while the family continued it's work on opening up opportunities for the lower classes. Jobs and better quality of life. Hospitals and schools. Fighting against those who benefited from nothing changing. It was slow. Like pulling teeth. The work of lifetimes, he'd said. I... I was expected to help continue it.

I'd been GLAD too. So utterly RELIEVED I was reborn into a house with some fucking sense of RESPONSIBILITY. Duty and honor and taking care of people! Building up social services! I had grand plans. Even after recognizing, a little alarmed, that I was on the fringe of a god damned OTOME game of all things.

One I barely remembered. Had played, loved most likely, as a preteen. A literal lifetime ago.

It didn't effect me, right? I wasn't here for boys or parties. Politics or fanciful dreams. Let someone else have their lace filled, flower coated, high drama adventures of love. I had late night paperwork and community research. Surprise to orphanages and hospitals to insure their was no corruption or mischief going on.

That one health clinic in Oakworth that took forever to get going.

Except...

Except??

Fafnir was a capture target! Which is why it took me forever to realize. As he had been so very small and filthy at first. Then merely small and in poor health. Short hair because his poor hair had been beyond saving. We passed by each other. Nodded, maybe exchanged pleasantries, but did not truely interact.

He lived in the dorms. I lived in the main house. He was basicly a student my father was paying to have taught, using our name. I was my father's actual daughter. We may have LEGALLY been related. LEGALLY brother and sister. But in actuality? We were no such thing.

Honestly, most of the "Sons"? Kept their original last names in day to day life.

Or at least... they did.

I.. I think I had shit taste, as a preteen. That or my luck has finally run out. Maybe it was my family's fortune, that finally could no longer best the odds. After all, there is always one. That ONE soul. Who sees something good and doesn't care about anything or anyone but themselves. Ruins things for everyone.

As long as they get their's, right?

A sea of motivated and ambitious young men. Trying to change their station in life. Have Better and MORE. Change the world around them. Leave their marks. Is... ha! Is it any wonder, in hindsight, that our luck eventually gave out? It was always going too. I guess Fafnir just wanted MORE.

He was supposed to go to the Royal Academy, fall in love. Compete against prince's and duke's, knights and heirs to merchant companies. All for the heart of the only daughter of a Ducal house, that had been (of course) raised by peasants. A carriage accident and presumed death cliché.

I honestly couldn't even remember his route. I might have read about it. But had never PLAYED it. He had had short hair, all but two had. So I played the foriegn prince route, even though he was kind of an ass. He was a handsome one at least. At least to me. It was just, I had never... still never...

I liked men with long hair.

Something which I had never told anyone.

Yet? As Fafnir grew? He did not transition into the character I remembered, like the others had. He grew his hair out. Became not only fiercely protective of it, but invested in higher quality products to care for it. Discovered my favorite perfume maker and commissioned a cologne for himself, that would mix well with the scent I always wore. Systematically tracked down each and everything I've ever liked, behind my back, to consume and memorize every facet of them.

I was blind to it.

My Father was not.

And... a-and... it cost him his life.

Father was not pleased with want he saw. But assumed it was a crush at first. We were young after all. Young people do weird, awkward, over the line things. Are learning about boundaries even as they grapple with sudden floods of hormonal shifts. A terrible time, really. It could be excused. As long as it didn't go TOO far. So long as someone sat Fafnir down for a talk.

They did.

He got more subtle.

A cycle developed. One my Father was not pleased to see. Fafnir would cross boundaries, be caught, get scolded, and contritely apologize... then get more subtle in his approach. Be more clever. As though all he had learned was "don't get caught". and "if you want to get, what you want to have, you need to have the skills to get passed us."

He grew concerned. Eventually, alarmed. I had thought nothing of it, back then, because "of COURSE he was supposed to go" to the Royal Academy? But... we honestly, really, Truely? HADN'T sent anyone there before. And there HAD been far more skilled boy then him. Prodigies.

But... my favorite ribbon necklace had gone missing.

From the room where I slept.

Overnight.

My Father took one look at Fafnir's pleased expression amongst the chaos and needed no further proof. He would not kick him out. Far too dangerous, he thought. But he WOULD send him away. Now?

Now I wish he'd risked it. Because... because everyone was dead. Struck down by the monster we let into our home. And by ancient law, which we both KNEW he was planning to exploit? This was a... a "family matter". Because, after all, we WERE legally family. Members of the same House.

"Such hesitation, Sister. You'd think I was a threat." He muses into his cup of tea, swirling it lightly. His eyes flit back to me, lips curling just slightly. "Don't worry, though. I understand completely. I would never hurt you."

But he would hurt others. He already has. Most of them didn't survive it. Ha ha... like a brutal yank on some unseen leash. I want to cry. Not sure if this is what shock feels like. But yes, thank you, for the lovely remind, Fafnir. That you have filled my home with bodies. The corpses of those I loved.

I use what little dignity I have left to walk forward and sit down.

Oh look, he has utterly ruined all my favorite things in one blow. There, my favorite tea. That, my favorite flower. Across the table my favorite snacks. Even a few favorite fruits. A dish or two. My favorite cup. And now? N..NOW? All I will every be able to associate with them is death. The stench of copper and the horror of this moment.

The joy of them is gone.

"See? Isn't that better? No more standing awkwardly to the side. Now we can sit, face to magnificent face. I've brought you a few things I know you'll enjoy. Isn't that nice? I've wanted to do this for the longest time." He sighs in contentment, as though this were no more then a matter of busy schedules and social anxiety. "And now? Now we are finally together. Siblings for now, but I am working to fix that. And if i can't, well..."

His smirk was a thing of nightmares.

"I'm head of the house now. You're finally Mine."

[otaku553]

A certain first encounter

[theragamuffininitiative]

I support the nuanced and varied debates against ai art from now til kingdom come, but by far my favorite one to use is extremely basic and simple and I will always always refer back to it so here you go:

Art is the expression of the human experience and you can't generate that.

[mayullla]

NO I AM NOT OKAY. IF THIS PERSON WHO DID IT IS SOMEONE WHO FOLLOWS ME TAKE IT FREAKING DOWN. I NEVER GAVE PERMISSION FOR SOMETHING LIKE THIS AND NEVER WILL.

If someone knows about this fic. Please please please I beg you please send a link to me so that I could report it. If I remember correctly it is only the author who could report something being stolen on wattpad. (The story they took from is one of my original works that is Just One Drop) And please if you do know or if you find out don't go attacking this person.

[apettypetrifiedbitch]

she asks that i tell you to remember her

the storylines with no way to change the outcome are amazing, and yet they inspire hate in my heart. especially if i end up in them repeatedly without planning to. i realised that i do not, in fact, like when all-powerful women step on me. and sadly that does mean that replaying this game again and again, i have come to dislike shifty quite a bit.

during my first playthrough, we felt like equals. we're both confused. we're both trapped. i'm still not sure wth is up with the narrator, but i'll be damned if i trust that dude. shifty, or "hands" as i was calling her at the time, felt like an ally. but overtime, she has started to feel like another captor. especially since i knew what she was going to become (specifically how frickin mean and domineering she was gonna get all of a sudden).

and then... one of my favorite repeating moments in the entire game is the end of the first loop.

she asks that i tell you to remember her

you won't *glass shatters*

chilling. amazing. love it.

but then i thought about it a bit more and... i love this moment even more.

cause this is classic shifty. she talks about the vessel as if it's just a vessel and her wishes don't matter that much, she doesn't give you a chance to respond, she's kind of distantly cruel, flexes her power while sitting on her high frickin horse. but she's also wrong.

cause you do remember her. not just because you're a player and remember the route you took and not because she reminds you with the montage. you just remember her. that's who the hero takes you to. the vessel you met the first time. the one that asked you to remember her.

and i think that's beautiful. not just because it feels like i'm flippin an all-powerful shifty off.