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keef-a-corn · 1 year

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Dat’s right, People, it’s time for ‘Keef watches TFP and you just get the notes!’

This is for season 1, episode 22: Stronger, Faster

Please reblog or comment on this with your thoughts! I really want to know what your opinion of the episode was!

I write down the timestamps, but I watch Transformers Prime on Stan (an Australian streaming service) so they may be slightly off.

ALSO! I try my best to note points for every character, but tend to get a little caught up by Bee (although I think I do a pretty good job with the notes regardless) so do be warned.

~~~~Transition~~~~

00:03 - Said no one to a transformers fan ever.

00:15 - I don’t know what happened to Ratchet’s lip-sync.

00:26 - *throws to the Ratchet fans* FEAST!

00:33 - Raf’s a smart character, wouldn’t he know that Ratchet needs to test it a few times to make sure it’s stable? …Or does Raf want to put Bee’s life at risk?. O-Ó

00:58 - I get the other shots, but why the Cliffjumper one? His death didn’t have a negative effect on the energon supply.

01:41 - It’s like listening to your parents discussing the taxes.

01:59 - aww.. baby no! I wanna put him in a blanket.

02:08 - could you imagine being a parent in the early 2010s, thinking your child’s just watching an innocent show, then walking in and watching this scene? The episode is honest to goodness about drug addiction and there’s nothing anyone can say that would disprove it.

02:19 - Imagine if that had actually killed him? Like everyone returning after a mission to find Ratchet dead on the floor.

~intro~

03:12 - an amusing sight

03:24 - Ratchet’s first move to check if he was better than fine was to rotate his arm/check his shoulder. For anyone who theorises hidden, long-term injuries on the bots, there’s one for ya.

03:28 - I’m sad that his energon was so low… but which one belongs to the others? A possible consideration would be that Optimus is the bottom, then Bulkhead’s above Ratchet, then Arcee, then Bee, from their frame sizes and such. Where Bulkhead and Optimus use up more energon due to their larger sizes.

03:56 - that’s so strategically cruel.

04:49 - Oh Damn.. Optimus ain’t playing around (obviously) but he doesn’t use that tone at any other point. It’s so… uncharacteristically in character of that makes sense.

05:08 - way too high risk. Slim odds of reward. Arcee has a bad habit on taking on too much during fieldwork. It’s incredible how she hasn’t been held back more often.

05:53 - Mm.. there’s not enough appreciation for the way vehicon’s prepare to land.

06:10 - why would he put the ground bridge up there?? HOW ARE THEY SUPPOSED TO GET BACK? + could you just imagine Bee, Bulk and Optimus waiting behind the rocks, trying to make small talk.

06:18 - Slay Ratchet. Damn.

06:50 - so that idea from before… still imagine that. Just because it doesn’t work in canon, doesn’t mean it shouldn’t be pictured.

07:16 - now I wouldn’t be doing my job if I didn’t say that the fact that they included this shot could’ve meant something important, especially how the camera lingered on Bee for a second before the zoom (he’s the focus point in the shot. He’s the least blurry in the zoom). This will not be the last comment I make that’s probably me just thinking too hard.

07:22 - the side eye.

07:23 - That sounds familiar..

HA CALLBACK.

07:32 - *cri* He looks so proud. Good.

07:36 - Oh n o ✨ he’s now become aware of the size difference in a way that isn’t making him worried for the safety of the children (also Ratchet’s canonically called Raf ‘little fella’ I will now abuse this fact.)

07:46 - ‘no secret’ then proceeds to reveal that he’s on drugs.

07:48 - you can see the shift in the other bots features.

07:57 - … what. Did. He. Say?. W H Y A R E T H E R E N O H I N T S ? !

08:04 - this one’s a quick translation.. *concerned husband noises* + that slight glare though.

08:09 - Now kids remember, don’t do drugs. And if Arcee suggests it’s a good idea. It isn’t.

08:20 - Optimus probably has some history with drug addiction/abuse (might not have been him, but a friend *cough cough* Megatron)

08:26 - Damn, Optimus really on edge this episode.

08:43 - expressive story telling.

08:46 - Under influence or not, Ratchet still called Bulkhead ‘Bulk’. He must’ve done so before, but still.

08:50 - Bulkhead’s more likely to respond with a nickname if he gets addressed with a nickname.

08:51 - Ratchet just bitch-slapped Bulk. Damn.

09:16 - oh hells no. Ratchet’s fist should never be that close to Bee’s face like that. + From experience, when someone air punches so close so your face, once you recognise that you’re not actually going to be punched, you relax, but if you still believe you're in danger you're going to remain on edge. Bee keeps himself tilted away, meaning he still sees Ratchet as a threat.

09:22 - *cri*

09:25 - Bee’s eyebrows raise higher after Ratchet insults him.

09:29 - pretend he was straight? Yeah. But seriously, what an uncomfortable situation for all of them.

09:42 - that’s a dependency. It’s never a good thing.

09:52 - Arcee’s tone indicates she’s still upset, otherwise she would’ve been a bit higher pitched.

09:57 - There’s something about the way Optimus reactions (physically) when Bulkhead stops him that’s really interesting. I cannot work out what though.

10:05 - that’s how Knockout stands.

10:10 - I very seriously doubt that Ratchet chose Bumblebee to stay back as a randomised choice. If he had called him ‘Bee’, maybe, but he didn’t. He said ‘Bumblebee’. It was intentional. Considering that Ratchet’s still very strategic, despite being under influence, he would’ve been more likely to put Arcee on the sidelines (she goes against orders, makes unnecessary risks and is not as good at fighting compared to the others + the others are a bit more durable.). There are a few reasons why he might’ve chosen Bee. Although I want to say that it’s super unlikely, I cannot rule out the idea that a drugged up Ratchet could be a bit ableist, explaining why he’d first remove the disabled bot- but, as I said, highly unlikely. What’s more likely is that he’s putting Bee on the sidelines because he sees him as the weakest after he immediately backed down from a challenge. Then you also have the idea that there’s still apart of Ratchet that would put himself in the face of danger to protect Bee.

10:13 - WHAT DID HE SAY?! THE SYLLABLES RARELY MEAN ANYTHING WHEN IT COMES TO BEE’S DIALOGUE SO THERE’S NO HINTS!

11:01 - He’s an ass, but he’s got a point.

11:47 - what was gonna be the plan?

12:03 - this is a serious part, why would they include something so comedic? + he do be having a really good aim tho.

12:29 - Torture for the location of something important… the irony. (IYKYK)

12:41 - Optimus’s reaction shot is like every animal reaction to a loud noise in the distance.

12:44 - Really reflects on how often Autobots torture someone from the way everyone reacts.

12:47 - the shot would’ve been more impactful had Ratchet been kneeling, rather than leaning over.

12:57 - Nothing can stop the indestructible force that is Optimus putting his hand on someone’s arm/shoulder to make them calm down.

13:02 - Bulkhead and Arcee standing in the back watching them.

13:08 - Miner vs Minor. Both make a lot of sense before the rest of the dialogue.

13:11 - ‘servant class, not warrior class’, I need to do my research, damn. Are there classes between Servant and warrior? I imagine there’s probably ones below Servant and above warrior, so the lowest class the autobots would fight is warrior. Are the classes the same for the autobots? *

13:14 - his headlights weren’t coloured properly.

13:17 - with each shot the camera gets closer to them. + Optimus’s really fed up.

13:20 - he got the Lego mouth.

13:33 - I refuse to believe that the nemesis isn’t moving every five minutes.

14:24 - OH. WOW. Low blow.

14:59 - That was quick. Especially considering that that was not the original coordinates.

15:18 - they established early on that Ratchet could do that.

15:23 - ..where is he going?

15:34 - they either removed a scene or there’s a giant error. Bee wasn’t with them.

16:11 - domineering: asserting one's will over another in an arrogant way.

16:34 - I stand corrected, Megatron isn’t on the ship… for some reason.

16:51 - Knockout hasn’t fought Ratchet before.

17:16 - underrated line + delivery.

17:20 - Megatron’s got a big hand.

17:23 - that’s what it feels like to loose an arm wrestle.

17:31 - Knockout immediately suggesting drugs.

17:37 - WTFRaG.

17:49 - …Okay but like I know he doesn’t mean it this way, but I prefer to imagine that Megatron’s witness Ratchet sitting in Optimus’s lap.

17:53 - dude wants to drug a whole army.

17:56 - first move. Call out husband’s name.

17:58 - second move. Admit to wrong-doings.

18:05 - Optimus grabbing onto the handrails (I wasn't able to get a clear shot)

18:08 - He’s so concerned.

18:10 - FRAGGIN FINALLY I CAN GUESS. ‘Yeah? -on it.’

18:14 - Optimus didn’t even finish his sentence before running to the rescue.

18:23 - her legs are moving faster than she is.

18:26 - NOTHING CAN STOP HIM NOOOOW.

18:32 - he won’t stop moving. It’s beautiful.

18:38 - Oh dear.. oh Ratchy no!

18:44 - Knockout’s had like a 0% success rate with that saw.

19:35 - his eyes are blue

19:50 - THAT LINE DELIVERY!

20:07 - he k n e e l s

20:12 - that pool of energon wasn’t there before and he wasn’t actively bleeding.

20:14 - smexy scenery.

20:21 - babes has been by his side the whole time.

20:24 - ‘you bled out’ >:)

20:31 - Aww! But also.. he punched Bulkhead.

12:32 - shut up. You’re crying.

20:35 - he finished his sentence.

20:41 - AAAAAAAAA

20:52 - so energon is a blue crystal that needs to be mined, where it’s then turned into glowing light blue cubes where it becomes a dark blue liquid and is injected into the arm? But if it’s purple it’s dark energon. If it’s green it’s Synth-en. But dark energon stays in crystal form and doesn’t need to be replaced, while normal energon needs to be stocked up and can burn.

21:24 - this is just the plot of Hercules (the Disney movie)

———————

And that was Stronger, Faster

A lot lighter and darker than I remembered it. A very good watch and even if it’s just known for being the drug addiction episode, I’m glad that it’s known.

It’s a very dark topic, but I think it was addressed well. 10/10 would watch in a binge and when being selective about episodes.

*so this touches on my question

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radioactive-earthshine · 2 years

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Hello. I'm very new to DC as in I only got into it as of April of this year and it started the animated YJ side then moved into the comics. I don’t know a lot and I'm really confused about somethings. I do plan on reading the comics but for now that just seems really intimidating so I'm sticking with fics. I really am loving Sunshine Falling but I want to know about Thad and Preston bc they haven't shown up in the show and I'm so new I don't know where to look. Are they canon characters?

I know I keep saying how much I am stunned when people (comic fans) say they don't know who Thad is and then I remember you gotta start somewhere. While the Young Justice animation is excellent, it is an entire alternative universe to the comics in it's own world with it's own history and thus everything you have seen should be taken with some caution.

Thad and Preston are canon comic characters.

Preston Lindsay

Preston is one of Bart's best civilian friends and he shows up in issue #1 and is a reoccurring character throughout the majority of Bart's series.

He's a great friend to Bart and accepts him for who he is and thinks he's the coolest even if one of the first thoughts he had about him was that he was a JERK.

He gets over the chilliness very quickly.

We learn throughout the comics that he is an aspiring director, he loves films and he makes movies in his free time sometimes coopting his friends in his projects. He also LOVES comics and is partial to After-Life Avenger.

He's supposed to have BROWN eyes, ignore the fucking blue eyes istg.

Preston also becomes Bart's very first 'big case' where Bart had to choose to do the right thing over protecting his own secret identity. Preston is a battered child and the whole story unfolding around that can be read in issue #6 (probably one of the BEST issues in all of Impulse imho).

Bart saw Preston being abused in his home as Impulse, not as Bart Allen, so when he was prepared to report it he would essentially have to out himself. Bart chose (obviously) to help his friend rather than keep quiet to preserve his identity.

Preston and Bart grew VERY close after this issue.

Some other highlights from Preston include;

The time he got "shot" by toxic waste dumpers and he thought it was the coolest thing.

"One of those guys shot me? Oh, boy!" Then Bart's soul just departs his body in guilt.

Preston also thinks Bart's mom is hot, which is, y'know, a requirement for all future hero boyfriends that are bisexual.

Speaking of being bi... He thinks Bart is really cool and is the BEST if you know what I mean...

"He's really great!"

Preston is 10/10 a GREAT civilian friend and I miss him dearly.

Thaddeus Thawne

To read him at his best and most interesting read Impulse issues #51-#53 and the entire Mercury Falling arc #62-#66.

Thad's history with Bart is complicated. Thus far in the comics he is firmly on the side of villain/nemesis (and an extremely successful one). Regardless of no matter how much he should have had redemption, or how much one was already set up.

He's a clone of Bart and fulfills the "evil twin" trope. He was created first and foremost to be a weapon and an agent of misery to fuel nihilistic spite and hatred. It's complicated, and the short-hand version of it is the Thawne line is entrenched in a one-sided blood feud with the Allen line for overall petty comic reasons that are justifiable to them.

Thad had no say in this and did not even know there was another option... Until the Mercury Falling arc where he got a taste of something he never had while impersonating Bart... love.

Thad in particular bonded with Helen and described her as "so full of warmth" and as a person who loved him, and as someone who he genuinely liked. Thad also felt love from Max and was strongly swayed away from his "task" just by experiencing their love as well as Bart's friends' love.

Unfortunately...

"Condemning those who condemned him to this and solitary single-minded existence!" - That alone was the launch into a redemption arc, but no we can't have fucking nice things.

In a perfect world Thad would have come back. Max would be willing to accept to him back and he did offer to take him in when he learned that Thad had been impersonating Bart all along. There would be a little tension, some acclimating, and an entire issue could center around Bart and Thad finally trusting each other after mutually sucking to communicate or something.

We... did not get this.

His interest and character development plummets after Mercury Falling, and his highlights afterwards include successfully murdering Bart, and then suffering a fate worse than death via Wally who took all his speed and turned him into a living statue reminding everyone that the Flash Family is more like the Flash Mafia and you don't fuck with them.

So that is a rundown of these two and where to read about them Preston is in so many issues it's hard to pinpoint single issues but Thad's "run" is easier to single in on.

I am so very glad you enjoyed them in my fic.

They are going to be just fine together.

#thad thawne #thaddeus thawne #preston lindsay #bart allen #flashfam #sunshine. falling.#my mess of a drawer fic #thad/preston #tagging it as that for categorical reasons

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sophielovesbooks · 1 year

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I was tagged by @dauen for the mid-year book freakout tag, and I was genuinely so excited because I had been meaning to do it, but then I wondered if anybody even cared. So yes, thank you so much! <3 And let's gooo ~

1. Best book you’ve read so far this year

Birnam Wood. Hands down. Everybody go read Birnam Wood.

2. Best sequel you’ve read so far this year

This question made me realise I don't read a lot of sequels. The ONLY one I've read so far this year is Hell Bent (the sequel to "Ninth House"). And it was kind of fun. But I didn't love it.

3. New release you haven’t read yet

Hm... I suppose I don't keep up with new releases like I used to. Though Carrie Soto Is Back comes to mind, if that counts as a new release. And Sea of Tranquility from last year. (I accidentally just mispelled that as "Transquility" lol)

4. Most anticipated release for the second half of the year

Okay, so this is super niche and a bit weird, but it might be The Otherworld by Abbie Emmons. I've never actually read anything by her and I'm not sure if it'll be good, but I know her from YouTube and I'm curious. Has anybody else on here read any of her books?

5. Biggest disappointment

Probably The Midnight Library. I had seen so many people raving about this book online, but I HATED it. Genuinely the most amateurish writing I have come across in years. And so, so preachy. Not trying to be mean here. But yeah, it wasn't for me.

Oh, and Kill All Your Darlings by David Bell was also bad, sadly.

6. Biggest surprise

Hm. Birnam Wood was the biggest surprise regarding how much I loved it. And also regarding the ending. And Rock Paper Scissors by Alice Feeney had one of the coolest plot twists I came across this year.

7. Favourite new author (debut or new to you)

100% ELEANOR CATTON WHO WROTE BIRNAM WOOD IT WAS SO GOOD OMG!

Also Victoria Gosling? I am currently reading Before The Ruins by her and it's quite good as well. Beautiful writing. Kind of entrancing. I feel like fans of The Secret History would be into it?

8. Newest fictional crush/newest favourite character

Hmm, I don't really get fictional crushes. But if I did, I would have to say Mira or Tony from, you guessed it, Birnam Wood. (Oh, and maybe David from Before the Ruins. Also quite cute.)

9. Book that made you cry

Hehe. What do you think. You have one guess. Oh, you said Birnam Wood? Correct. Why have I only read one great book this year so far lmao

10. Book that made you happy

Ummm... All of this is forcing me to face the fact that my reading year so far has NOT been that good. I reread If We Were Villains and that made me happy. For non-fiction I read Undrowned and that made me happy at times. But other passages were really sad and emotional.

11. Favourite Adaptation

Heartstopper! And I'm really excited for Red, White & Royal Blue! <3

12. Prettiest Cover

Though disappointing overall, Kill All Your Darlings did have a lovely cover:

13. A book you need to read before the end of the year

Gosh, so many! From a quick glance at my shelves: The Rehearsal, The Initial Insult, Outliers, Shadow of the Lions, Weapons of Math Destruction... and so many more. That I know I won't get to. So some are on my 2024 TBR.

Tagging @hrimceald @books-and-cookies @b1uetrees @jay-avian @yoongsea @r-osehips @minyardcva if you want to. Curious to hear about your reading years so far :)

#booklr #mid year book freak out tag #mid year book tag #reading #currently reading #tag games

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lolotheparagon · 8 months

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Sofia the First Season 4 in a Nutshell

Oh boy... Season 4. The one with the Wicked Nine story arc.

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Day of the Sorcerers - 1/10

For some inexplicable reason, the writers wanted to redeem Cedric and finish off his story arc of being a villain, DESPITE 3 ENTIRE SEASONS OF HIM CHANGING PASSIVELY OVER TIME AND BECOMING A GOOD GUY AND A GOOD TEACHER TO SOFIA AND THE CHILDREN, BUT NOPE WE GOTTA HASTILY CONCLUDE THIS CHARACTER ARC. SO LETS HAVE HIM TAKE OVER THE KINGDOM AND ACTUALLY NEARLY SUCCEED ALL BECAUSE THE BILLY WEST WIZARD AND A BIRD PERSUADED HIM WITH VERY LITTLE CONVICTION. Its fucking hilarious cos at the third act, all it took to get Cedric to stop usurping the throne was Sofia giving him a glare like a child angry at her dad for not picking her up from soccer practice. And despite nearly taking over the kingdom, Cedric gets a second chance thanks to Sofia and her mum and everything just goes back like nothing happened. WOW ITS ALMOST LIKE THIS WHOLE EPISODE WAS COMPLETELY FUCKING POINTLESS.

The Secret Library: Tale of the Eternal Torch - 2/10

Remember, kids. If you have a history with invaders constantly trying to take over your home at every opportunity, befriend them! Its always good to share your land, even though its your land by right! Thank god we're dealing with dragons here not people, otherwise this wouldve been REALLY FUCKED UP. I mean this is fucked up, but still.

The Crown of Blossoms - 9/10

Finally, an episode that didnt make me wanna gouge my eyes out! A wonderful lesson about not using other people's valuable treasures for a festival and you should rightfully give it back to them. Even the boring Clover being greedy sideplot doesnt bother me.

Pin the Blame on the Genie - 0/10

Oh great, another episode about the Culturally Fucked Up Genie Police and the kid genie getting needlessly harassed and villified by the public all because of one racist wizard's opinions. Btw its established that the Genie Patrol have prison cells for misbehaving genies, WHILST THEYRE IN THEIR LAMPS. So its a prison within a prison. WTF?!

The Mystic Isles - -5/10

So, this is the famous Mystic Isles special...Honestly, for a world that's supposed to be where all magic originates, this is pretty dull. Like isn't the world of Sofia the First already magical as fuck? There are magical creatures everywhere in Enchancia, what makes this place so special? Also I really dont like the alicorn Skye, his oldtime medieval mannerisms get older after 5 minutes and it really feels like the show one-upped poor Minimus, since he was Sofia's first flying horse. Oh yeah and Sofia wants to be part of the Crystal Justice League or some shit, cos we need SOMETHING for our main character to do!

The Mystic Isles: The Princess and the Protector - 4/10

A tough fairy named Chrysta becomes Sofia's mentor into becoming a glorifed cop for the EverRealm and because she has this preconception of Sofia being this spoilt snob because she's a princess, Chrysta proceeds to not teach her anything and snark at Sofia throughout the majority of the episode. In any other series, this would be hilarious but here, I just feel sorry for poor Sof. I really grew to like Chrysta later on but this was NOT a good first impression.

The Royal Dragon - 6/10

Crackle and Sofia in Spyro form joins a dragon summit and the former fight with her egocentric rival in order to get people's attention cos her rival always steals people away from her before she can even make friends. Ngl I was expected to hate this episode but it was worth it to see that Crackle's rival is just as insecure as she is and made up half her boasting was made up so people would be friends with her. Also Sir KMR the Knight appears again to play schoolyard pranks on a bunch of dragons cos he's a petty bitch lol

The Mystic Isles: The Mare of the Mist - 6/10

Minimus is understandably pissed off that Sofia arrived with a brand new alicorn TM as her new best friend and tries to string along both of them on her new mission to find this mystery horse for a test. I dreaded this episode was gonna go with Sofia gaslighting poor Minimus into thinking Skye is the better companion and he should deal with it. But No. Sofia couldnt even finish her test cos the mystery horse she was looking for chastises her for not considering Minimus' feelings and favouring Skye over him. I like that, it really puts Sofia in a humbling position and helps her realise how important Minimus is to her.

Through the Looking Back Glass - 9/10

Its a good Cedric episode so its already a step up and we get to see Calista again, which is always fun. We find out the actual reason why Cedric has had this reputation from everyone, especially his sister Cordelia, that he was this bungler who would never amount to anything, and its revealed to be a completely accident which Cordelia forgives him for and apologises for all the teasing and petty rivalry she had with him over the years. Its a very sweet victory for Cedric and I honestly wish THIS was the final episode of his character arc than Day of Sorcerors cos it really shows how much he's improved as a person since Season 1 and that he doesnt need to take over the kingdom to prove his worth. Side note: I love how Sofia and Calista team up to clear Cedric's name and its cute to see Sofia act like a big sister to Calista.

Princess Jade - 8/10

Wasn't expecting a non character like Jade to get her own spotlight episode but here we are and its really sweet! I love how Jade was originally excited to go to Royal Prep to be with her bestie Sofia when they found out Jade's a descendant of royalty but quickly grows to hate it when she realises she'll never see Ruby or any of her village friends that much anymore, her entire life is changed upon this revelation...AND THEN WE GET A FUNNY AS HELL SIDEPLOT WITH AMBER BECOMING A MASTER ARCHITECT. Why wasnt this an entire episode alone about Amber being into architecture, that is wicked cool?!

Ivy's True Colors - 0/10

Ooo, the villain Princess Ivy's getting a redemption? Skip

Too Cute to Spook - 10/10

And we now return to our scheduled programming of serotonin-filled spookiness cos this time Sofia, Lucy and her toxic witch friends are doing trick or treating and Calista wants to join in but they dont want her to join cos she's too adorable to be scary and they're worried she'll "cramp their style." But Calista just wants to have friends and make Sofia happy. Man, I miss when Sofia the First episodes were like this.

Pirated Away - 8/10

After crashing into a pirate ship by accident, Miranda, Sofia and Amber have to help a bunch of geographically challenged pirates find a golden figurehead so Sofia and the family can see a meteor shower along the way. We get to see Miranda being a bad ass mum, Amber learning to respect her mother's word and have a heart to heart talk with her and a lesson about just fucking listening to people.

The Mystic Isles: The Falcon's Eye - 5/10

Oh goody, another Mystic Isles episode and this time, Sofia has to search for the Wicked Nine, a bunch of magical items belonging to the greatest Disney villains of the past to stop the villain from the Mystic Isles special, Prisma from gaining all their powers. Cos apparently Sofia the First really needed a daedric artifact storyline.

The Mystic Isles: The Great Pretender - 4/10

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The Mystic Isles: A Very Mystic Wassalia - 7/10

Okay, the fact Chrysta has spent the whole of Christmas with Sofia doing protector tasks in order to distract herself from her incredibly lonely life cos she has no family or friends to spend the holiday is truly sad. I really felt for her when Sofia rounds up everyone in the Mystic Isles for a Christmas party. Just...awwww.

The Birthday Wish - 10/10

Sofia has a shit birthday so she wishes for a redo of her birthday and she gets it...40 times over. Yknow that segment with Huey, Dewey and Louie in Mickey's Once Upon a Christmas? Its basically that but with Sofia slowly going insane. The biggest highlight is definitely Sofia getting more exasperated and pissed off with each repeat. Its so rare to see Sofia mad or even angry cos Sofia's a very grounded kid who's got a big heart so seeing her being pushed to the limit is hilarious. And as always, there's a good lesson about looking on the bright side of things, which is especially true since Sofia still had a pretty good party to begin with, despite how chaotic things got.

In Cedric We Trust - 8/10

I feel like this whole episode was an apology for Day of Sorcerors cos this ep tries to address the fact Cedric nearly usurped the throne a few episodes ago and Roland's not happy about that. But unlike a lot of kids shows where the villains make shoddy attempts to atone for their actions and the characters just immediately forgive them without any repercussions, Cedric is nowhere near the levels of vile monster levels of Starlight Glimmer or Catra so im a lot more on board with Cedric's redemption cos he's got a far better track record of being a good person than any 2010s redeemed villain combined. Also Cedric earnestly trying to restore Roland's trust not just to get everyone to trust him again, but also because the two shared a friendship together when they were children is very sweet. I kinda wish that was explored a lot more in the show earlier. I wouldve loved more Roland and Cedric bonding.

The Mystic Isles: A Hero For The Hoodwinks - 5/10

Clover wants to be a hero like Sofia so he pretends to be one after hitching a ride to the Mystic Isles and manages to garner a fanbase of flying hedgehogs. Trust me, its not as exciting as it sounds.

The Mystic Isles: Undercover Fairies - -5/10

Another boring Chrysta episode, this time its about Chrysta having a bad experience with other fairies cos they all thought she was too rough and tough and not delicate enough to be a fairy. I mean, good for Chrysta to embrace her femininity but I really dont care at this point.

A Royal Wedding - 10/10

Aunt Tilly's wedding? Okay sure, but what if there was a main plot where its revealed Amber is actually the heir to the throne, not James, causing him to have an identity crisis and immediately tries to humilate Amber in front of the whole reception but nothngs working cos James still thinks Amber is her season 1 self, not her current self who's mastering all her royal duties like a pro and not caring about getting her dress dirty. So he accidentally summons a sea monster, which causes havoc at the wedding and can only be calmed with the promise of cake. So Amber, Sofia and James work together to stop said sea monster and the twins reconcile, James makes up for his actions and Amber dubs her brother First Knight. A heartwarming episode with a dash of crazy shenanigans thrown in. Finally, James gets a good story right before the show finishes.

The Royal School Fair - 3/10

Its nearly the end of school for Sofia and the gang but the former doesnt know what school she wants to go to after finishing Royal Prep, so everyone tries to get her to join their personal fave school rather than one of them sitting down with her and actually working it through with her. Oh and for the cherry on top, Amber signs Sofia up to join a school WITHOUT HER CONSENT and despite being called out for it, Sofia decides she wants to go there anyway. OH FOR FUCK'S SAKE. WRITERS, YOU HAVE ONE JOB, DONT TEACH KIDS TO BE COMPLACENT WITH PEOPLE'S BAD BEHAVIOUR.

The Lost Pyramid - 4/10

Sofia and the gang are exploring the inside of a pyramid, where they have to rely on different senses other than their eyes to solve the pyamid's riddles? Nice! A blind princess who's also an archaeologist?? THAT IS SO FUCKING METAL I LOVE THAT AND OH MY GOD, HILDEGARDE. GO AWAY!

Return To Merroway Cove - 2/10

"Remember, kids. If your parents are infantilising you and don't think you're capable of handling more difficult tasks, prove them right! That'll show 'em! Wait..."

The Elf Situation - 8/10

Sofia encourages James and Amber that just because a peace summit is looming over them and that they're trying to prepare being future monarchs with newfound responsibilities, doesnt mean WE CANT HAVE FUN. And she's right! You guys are in your early teens, enjoy life while you can before the ! Btw i love how 3 kids managed to solve a years-long rivalry with two elf clan leaders in one afternoon when the king took years to get them to reconcile but to no avail lmao. Especially when the two elf leaders in question were mostly petty squabbling and got along the moment someone suggested to do something fun. See, Sofia's always right!

Forever Royal - -6/10

The sheer mood whiplash from an absolutely wholesome first act that wouldve been a great bookend to the series with Sofia graduating Royal Prep, Amber training to be queen, James becoming a full-fledged knight in training and everyone in Enchancia is all coming together to celebrate how much our main character has grown over the couple of years...only to spend the last two acts of the special hastily wrapping up the entire Wicked Nine story arc with a brand new villain instead of the one we've been building up over and the season, complete with higher stakes, a world-ending threat and ending with Sofia defeating said villain like a Kingdom Hearts cutscene spiritually reminds me of this

youtube

CONCLUSION

Oh boy this was a difficult season to get through. S3 had a weird story arc with the Secret Library, but at least that wasnt NEARLY as intrusive as the Wicked Nine arc, where it clearly felt like Craig Gerber tried to crowbar it into the season, especially for how out of place the usual episodes are. Craig said in one of his podcasts that the Wicked Nine was meant to be a serialised story arc for the whole season but Disney shot him down, saying that it'll be too complicated for a pre-school show. And honestly, I fully get behind Disney on that. But Craig had enough creative power to jam that shit in so we're stuck with a boring ass daedric artifact plotline that meanders until the finale, clogging up what couldve been a decent season to wrap up the series.

Still, apart from that awful last season, I really recommend Sofia the First. It's such a cute, fun show that has its problems and defnitely isnt for everyone as its very straightforward in its themes. But if you like musical numbers, silly characters and cute saccharine stuff like me, you'll like this show just fine.

Peace out, bitches

#sofia the first #Youtube

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bloodenjoyer · 2 years

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tagged by @mircallasgrave thank youu ^____^

1. are you named after anyone? nope!! my deadname took SOME inspiration from a girl in the 60s who had some connection to a band (<thats all ill say) baz is just short for basil which came from nowhere particular...i DO also go by judy though and that definitely is partly inspired by judy from the secret history

2. when was the last time you cried?

maybe a few days ago i kept thinking of doomsday/rose tyler in general and was getting really emotional about it . my actual problems im more inclined to repress though

3. do you have kids?

nope!

4. do you use sarcasm a lot?

yes but also no. the answer is no but yes. I am always being completely honest and completeyl joking. i am never entirely sincere but ever joke i make secretly rings true at its core

5. what is the first thing you notice about people?

man idk

6. what color are your eyes?

green or hazel im not sure

7. scary movies or happy endings?

silly question

8. any special talents?

i dunno i can do this weird thing with my right shoulder that makes it look dislocated

9. where were you born?

california!

10. what are your hobbies?

media consumption LOL movies books music etc...like...idk. sometimes i try to play instruments (i did play flute for years but im a bit rusty now, and i play bad guitar sometimes), same w drawing im j not very good at it. and writing. Whatever. im a bit of a jack of all trades useless creative type tbh

11. do you have any pets?

dogy i love her so much

12. what sports did/have you played?

violently hated sports growing up and im pretty physically ....unfit so i never did sports. i guess i do like swimming though and im decent at it

13. how tall are you?

same height as rod serling

14. favorite subjects in school?

history philosophy literature english. Oh anything humanities i suppose

15. dream job?

actor LOL but genuinely nothing at all

tagging @bivampires @gingersnapsunleashed @frankiecorleone <3

#it always takes me a bit to get around to doing these oopsy

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semi-imaginary-place · 1 year

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red mage: so basically arya should be a thaumaturge or black mage. she's really really good at the destructive magic and terrible at the restorative magics. why find equilibrium when you can min max and be a nuke.

have you heard of ... blue? or perhaps... green?

I really like x'rhun, great character

given x'rhun's history in the ala mhigo im disappointed the 60-70 storyline isn't going there, ah well time to see what idyllshire has in store.

I was just thinking at the end of the level 60 quest if X'ruhn is in his 40s then lambert probably is too and arya looks to be a teenager, wouldn't it be be messed up is she was his daughter or something. the only reason i didn't quite believe it is because lambert said he's been in a magical coma for many years.

fake memories? artificial humans? many possibilities.

i think its pretty interesting that despite its reputation it is not black magic that is the successor to void magic, it is red magic. and this is despite both black and void magic originating from mhach.

irony that the swashbuckling aesthetic class ends up being the demon summoning dark magic storyline.

wait that coffin is why witchdrop is haunted??

hey i happen to know a certain kitty cat that is a mhach specialist. too bad the questlines can't be interdependent.

hmm even the red mage writers get conjury and white magic mixed up

sorry arya but the 50=60 stuff was far more interesting than the 60-70 stuff

dragoon! ... orn khai just ate like 300 times his body mass in flesh

ninja: ok so we got a bunch of hingashi pretending to be from doma to smuggle a scroll out of garlemarld? I'm just waiting for karasu to be involved somehow. wait wasn't the house of sticks dude murdered like at level 20? there's karasu!

2nd? 3rd? time the game has said the doman rebellion was 1 year ago. the other time I remember off the top my head was right after doma castle when you talk to the blacksmith.

I feel so sorry for Akagi. we sent him on a goose chase to the literal opposite side of the planet.

Why is Karasu so focused on Oboro. he cares more about messing with him than literally anything else.

hey if zakuro is a mercenary we could buy out her contract.

oh that's interesting. yomei and all the shinobi we have met implied that ninja are from yanxia. but hanzo is saying that its from hingashi. then again all the shinobi we talked to were domans talking about their specific ancestral villages.

I totally do not remember who master sasuke is. and i don't think karasu is dead (again). oh master sasuke is the founder of oboro's village

whm: castrum oriens is an odd name given how it means east but is situated in the WESTERN part of the garlean empire

huh you can tell who is a padjal at birth. i remember reading in encyclopaedia eorzea or something that children only find out they're a padjal when the horn start growing in at like 10-15.

uh sylphie aren't you like 14. letting at 14 year old run the show and keep secrets from the conjurers guild while void sent are running around sounds like a recipe for disaster.

why not relocate both gatty and sanche to gridania. sanche would get better medical treatment, gatty would remain with her mother, there would be more conjurers on hand to deal with voidsent incidents, and there would be padjal on hand to tutor gatty.

the writers did this to keep sylphie's importance to the plot but this is a massive plot hole that e-sumi is having sylphie be gatty's teacher. first because as e-sumi himself said sylphie is still learning as an acolyte herself, she might have powerful instinctual magic but her learned knowledge isn't that good. second she wouldn't know white magic or padjal specific stuff. this is such a bad decision. also sylphie is still a kid has shown to be overwhelmed by the scale of this problem and having to take care of and be responsible for another kid. i guess the excuse is that it's technically the wol who's suppose to be doing the teaching but we all know that the player isn't going to be doing anything.

uh she jsut summoned a voidsent you sure she doing need more training its been like a couple months at most

#ffxiv #ffxiv 4.x #ffxiv drg #ffxiv rdm #ffxiv nin #ffxiv whm

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pisupsala · 2 years

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One for The History Books [Chapter 5] [Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw]

[Summary] You are an archivist at the Pentagon, sent on assignment to TOPGUN to catalog and report on a top secret mission. In the days under the Californian sun, a certain naval aviator puts your once orderly life in a tailspin that you might never recover from.

[Pairing] Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw x fem!reader / Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw x fem!oc

[Warnings] Mature content: swearing, (explicit) smut. 18+ only.

[Words] 4.1k

[Library]

One for The History Books - Chapter 5: Drown Me

You're unsure how to feel. And that's putting it lightly. You made out with Lt. Bradshaw in a parking lot against his car at sunset, which was objectively hot as fuck and messed up your emotions and hormones into a state beyond repair. You are not even sure if you are disappointed or not about Lt. Bradshaw taking you home and nothing more. He walked you to the barracks building, pressed a flighty kiss on your lips, and watched you walk to your door. Should you have invited him in? Or just straight-up dragged him in by his collar? Although Vice Admiral Simpson stopping by early Sunday morning to return your car keys (seriously, that man has no concept of normal people) might have made that awkward.

Scratch that. Not awkward. A fucking disaster. A straight-up career destroying disaster. For you mostly. Lt. Bradshaw would have plausible deniability about knowing you were reporting on his mission. For you, though? A knowing breach of integrity, impartiality, and objectivity. You would get pulled off the case, for one, probably lose your top security clearance, and get busted down to the mailroom. If the Pentagon still would deign to employ you, that is. This was never supposed to happen, and under no circumstances should anything else happen. You consider recusing yourself from this assignment; your career would take a hit for that. Either way, it's probably best for all parties involved to keep this under wraps, ride out the assignment, and bury every delicious memory of that evening deep into your fantasies. You can't bring yourself to regret it, one second of it, but you are both toeing the line in the sand that is hard to come back from. And why would you delude yourself into thinking it's anything more than a fling anyway? You think bitterly. After all this is over, he will return to whichever ship he was on, doing tours, and you will return to your shoebox apartment in Arlington. You are both just in need, willing and available—hardly some big romance. “You know I have been standing here for almost ten minutes now, right, Williams?” Your expression flat, you look up at Riks. It's Monday, and your thoughts are preoccupied. So much so you didn't notice Corporal Cunt and his ego walk into your office. “Sure, what do you want, Riks?” Your tone polite, only a ghost of a smile on your face. Instead of immediately replying, he reaches for one of the folders piled on your desk.

“Don't touch my papers.” You sigh, annoyed now. “Don't you have somewhere to be?” “What, like you're so busy? You've been staring at that paper for the whole time I've stood here.” He crosses his arms and looks down at you from the other side of your desk. You just look back at him, unimpressed. “Anyway—going to assume your space-out self hasn't read the morning brief yet.” He continues haughtily. You shrug. “Captain Mitchell has been pulled off the mission training.” Oh? You wait for him to continue, refusing to betray how much that information actually surprises you. What a bizarre decision this late in the game—true, no one has made time yet in training. The team is almost halfway through the training; changing command now will not do anyone any good.

Riks revels a bit too much in knowing something you don't and is lording it over you. “Cyclone is taking over training now. Command changed the mission's parameters completely, giving the pilots more time to complete the run. Of course, this means-” “Hold up-” You interrupt him. “What reason was given to change the parameters of the mission?” Riks sighs, annoyed at your interruption. “Have you been reading any debriefs at all since we got here?” He cuts at you snidely. “It can't be done. No one of the top pilots on the mission training succeeded.” “Wouldn't that mean that the mission can't be done successfully, period?” “That's a problem for the brass, not us.” Riks replies callously. “Or, you know, the pilots who already needed two miracles in the first place.” You cut back at him. You get up from your chair and grab the morning brief from the pile in your inbox on your desk.

“I'm getting coffee, so please leave my office, so I can lock up.” You are done with this conversation, and you need to see with your own eyes in what kind of clusterfuck this mission is really turning into. Top secret clearance at least means no one can be in your office without you, so it gives you a great excuse to kick Riks out. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ It's only a couple of hours later, and the whole base has descended into a state of utter chaos. Military bases have their fair share of yelling, but rarely a strange mix between blind panic and… happiness? As it turns out, Captain Pete "Maverick" Mitchell stole a plane. He also unequivocally proved that the original mission time could be achieved without missing the target. In one single run.

An incredible feat, one you have trouble wrapping your head around. You are standing in Simpson's office, in front of his desk, Bates in a chair to your right. Simpson is pinching the bridge of his nose. He looks in pain. Bates has a small smile on his face, wonderfully unbothered by the whole situation. “Are you in need of a lecture about the greater good of the mission and why reporting this to the DoD would be harmful to everyone involved?” Simpson starts, unmoving, from his position at his desk. “No Sir.” “Good, smart.” He says, finally looking up. Under his breath, he adds: “I don't think I even could explain this away.” “What's going to happen next, Vice Admiral Simpson?” You sincerely wonder how they are planning to move on from this—changing training command twice in one day, is hard to explain in the best of circumstances, let alone on a mission like this. He just waves his hand. He just waves his hand. “You will receive all the relevant paperwork for the DoD report.” Bates gets up from his chair. “We will make sure it all works out, miss Williams.” He says smiling. Ah, so they will backdate Mitchell's flight papers, making it look like his run was authorized. So, basically fraud. Actually breaking the law.

Once again—everyone here in insane. The faster you are out of here, the better. You smile. “Of course. Good evening gentlemen.” ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ The moment you feel like you have gotten your brain back to functioning normally, a proverbial bomb is dropped. Within three days, the whole mission has been turned upside down, inside out. You stare at the morning brief in your hands. You softly read out loud to yourself, making sure you are not reading anything wrong.

“The circumstances around the rapid progress of the uranium plant mean that the mission will be pushed forward. TOPGUN mission teams will ship out to the USS Roosevelt at 04:00 next morning.” You still. In the past days, you haven't seen hide or hair of Lt. Bradshaw. He must be busy, you conclude, and while you rationally understand it's for the better, it stings a little. In less than 18 hours he is shipping out to somewhere in the Pacific on what is still, objectively, an insane mission. The hours of the day crawl by. Never have you been so busy, and yet the clock wouldn't move. When you get back to your room that evening, you are tired but also strangely jittery. You pace through the small room, your emotions in turmoil. A part of you wants to go find Lt. Bradshaw, and at least wish him luck? But you are also aware you need to stay away from him, for your own good. Besides, he probably has his own shit to deal with. You are well aware that if he gets chosen to fly the mission, he might very well be flying to his death. You can't seem to stop your brain. A frenzy of thoughts and feelings fills you: worry, shame, confusion, attraction, anger, stress. You massage your scalp as you pace. There is nothing you can do now, you tell yourself. The mission, Lt. Bradshaw—it will play out one way or another. You can only wait, no matter how frustrating it is. A sharp rap of knuckles sounds on your door. You stop pacing and glance at your watch—it's almost 11 pm. You consider ignoring it, as it's most likely either Riks or Simpson. No one has come by your room before, especially this late. Another knock. Fuck. If that's actually Simpson you have a problem. Riks? You can just shut the door in his face. You move to open the door, quickly putting your messy hair up in a bun. As you open the door, you blink, pretty sure you are dreaming. Lt. Bradshaw, in his flight suit, breathing deeply like he's just been running. He looks frazzled, for the lack of a better word. You look at each other for a second. He grabs your elbow, and gently but swiftly pushes his way and closes the door behind him. You don't protest, as you have no way of explaining away why he would be at your room, at this time of night, hours before he ships out. The door clicks close. You stand in silence for a couple of seconds. The air feels electric suddenly. “I have to...” He stumbles over his words. “I'm shipping out in a few hours.” “I know.” It comes tumbling out of your mouth before your frenzied brain can catch up. You really should not be telling him you know about the mission, but, at the 11th hour, you can't really bring yourself to care about it anymore, rationally. For a split second, Lt. Bradshaw narrows his eyes. You can almost see the cogs turning in his head. He's smart, so he's probably putting together what you have actually been working on these past weeks, and why Simpson gets on your case so much. You hold your breath. “Then you know..." He trails off. How insane the whole thing is?

It will take two miracles to pull off?

That he might not come back? You merely nod, understanding the gravity of his situation. You reach out to him, cupping his face with your hands. He allows you to pull him to you, wrapping his arms around your waist and neck. “I just needed to...see you.” He murmurs as he rests his forehead against you. “I've got you.” You whisper back. With that, his lips crash into yours. You reciprocate with the same fervor, letting his need, desperation, and desire wash over you. If he needs comfort, you are more than willing to give. You tangle your fingers in his curls, tugging lightly. He nips your lip in response. One arm is still wrapped around your neck, as he uses his other hand to tug up the button-up shirt that is tucked into your skirt. As soon as he has an opening, he sneaks his hand under your shirt, roaming the calloused pad of his hand over your ribs. You are on your tiptoes, desperately trying to get closer to him. Back arched, you press yourself into him, his hand skimming over your spine. He dips his finger under the band of your bra. You gasp at the sensation.

Lt. Bradshaw starts gently pushing you back until the back of your legs hit the small desk in your room. Not breaking the kiss, he easily lifts onto it. Your fingers fumble with the zipper of his flight suit, needing to feel him closer to you. As if on autopilot, you open your legs to make space for him to step between. You manage to partially pull the down the zipper of his flight suit and drag your nails over the fabric of the shirt on his muscled chest. God, he feels so good. You feel his hand move up your thigh, under the pushed-up hem. His fingers are splayed out, just inches from your panties. He breaks the kiss and latches the sensitive spot just below your ear. You are breathing hard now. “You have to want this.” His voice is soft, but has a raw edge to it. “I want -” Your breath hitches as he squeezes your thigh in anticipation. “I want you.” “Fuck, darlin', it's so good to hear you say that.” His voice low in your ear. He kisses a trail down your neck to your collarbone, expertly popping the buttons of your shirt with one hand. He nips at your collar bone. “Please...” You want his hands on you, his mouth, his body, and there are too many clothes in the way. Bradshaw is making quick work of your shirt, which he pushes down your arms. Goosebumps erupt on your skin. He's kissing the swell of your breast now, just above the cup of your bra. Both his hands are pushing your skirt up further up your thighs. Your underwear is now completely on display. You're so turned on by now, you're sure your wetness is soaking through your panties. There is something incredibly hot about being in this state of undress, with Bradshaw still fully dressed. But also unfair, and you are not having it. You decide to push back, and pull the zipper of his flight suit down further. Bradshaw regards you with an amused look on his face, breathing labored, as you determinedly push the flight suit down his arms. He slips his hands out. You take that moment to get rid of your button-up shirt completely. With deliberate movements, you start tugging up his black skivvy shirt, needing it gone. He easily moves along and shrugs the shirt off. You let your eyes greedily run over the sight before you—chiseled torso, tan, and so close to you. Grazing your nails over his stomach, you see his muscles tense under your touch. There is no time, only fevered movements, panting breath, and bruising kisses. Your hands roam over his chest and back, mapping every line and plane. His skin is so hot against yours—it's like every nerve ending is on fire.

“Fuck, I really want to take my time with you, darlin'” He practically purrs in your ear, one hand on your neck while the other one is unapologetically tugging down your soaked panties, tossing them somewhere to the side. Before your muddled brain can even form a coherent sentence, his fingers are already sliding up your slit, brushing up against your clit.

A loud moan tears from your throat. The sensation of him touching you so intimately has you practically boiling over. Without stopping his ministrations, he gently shushes you. Clinging to him, you tilt your pelvis on the table to give him better access. His thumb is rubbing your throbbing clit relentlessly. His index and middle fingers are teasing around your opening. “I - I need you to...” You can barely finish your sentence, as you gently guide his fingers into you. “Tell me what you need.” His voice is rough. You need him to fill you. His fingers hook, now applying pressure to the two most sensitive parts of your pussy. “Fuck, fuck - yes, like that.” The words are tumbling from your mouth without a filter. “Please, don't—don't stop, fuck!” "That's it... don't think, darlin'." He is encouraging you, as his movements become rougher and more hurried. The pressure in you is building. You crash your mouth against his, in a primal need to have every sense overwhelmed by him.

His free hand is massaging your breast, dipping under the cup of your bra. Pinching your nipple, twisting it, making it hurt in the best possible way. You can feel yourself getting closer and closer, nails dragging over his shoulders. “I'm - am getting so close, please.” You are practically begging him. “Don't stop, please, please...” Your voice is raw, breathing so hard you feel like you are drowning. Bradshaw's hand leaves your breast, tangles into your hair, grabbing a fistful and forcing your head back.

“Look at me.” He commands you like an officer. His command sends electricity down your spine—you did not expect him to dominate you like this, or how hot it is. You are really close now, the muscles in your leg twitching, moaning brokenly. “Say my name.” He presses his thumb against your clit harder, tightening his grip on your hair. His eyes are blazing with desire. “Say my name as you cum.” “Please, fuck - Bradley, I'm going to cum.” You moan, keeping your eyes on him. “Do it, sweetheart. Cum for me.” His command sends you over the edge. Release washes over you. Your head lolls back, and your muscles contort under the most delicious sensation of his fingers, which are not stopping. You moan his name—too loudly, perhaps—as he cuts you off with a rough kiss. He releases his grip on your hair, and skims his fingers gently down your spine as you ride out your orgasm. Vaguely, you realize you've never before actually cummed when having sex with someone for the first time. You are slowly coming down from your high, breathing finally leveling. The urgency hasn't lessened, as Bradley picks you up from the table, hands on your ass. “Don't let go of me.” He murmurs against your throat. “I won't—I can't.” You breathe back. You latch onto him by wrapping your arms around his neck and legs around his waist. Your soaking wet pussy is rubbing against his stomach. He carries you to the small one-person bed in your room, sitting down you in his lap—your legs on either side of him. The feelings of frenzy and desperation have not died down—this is not about really about romance but about a desire, a need, and a ticking clock. You sit up on your knees, unclipping your bra and tossing is behind you, while Bradley slides his flight suit and underwear down in one swift motion. His cock looks painfully hard as you take him into your hands and stroke him. His mouth latches onto your now bare breast, using his hand to manipulate the other. Your hands are stroking along his length, your dripping pussy hovering just above his cock. “Please darlin', I can't...wait much longer.” His breath hitches as you tighten your fingers around him. His other hand is squeezing your bare ass, gently pushing you towards him. You guide his rock-hard cock to your soaking cunt, and carefully slide down on him. Bradley groans and swears under his breath as you sink down on him. You throw your head back as your walls stretch to accommodate his length and girth. You give yourself a second to adjust to him, before starting slow, deliberate movements with your hips, sliding up and down his length. You dig your fingers into his hair on the back of his head, giving yourself leverage to move as he nips at your nipple. Your other hand is running your nails up his spine, dragging a moan from him. He put you in a position of power, you realize, letting you decide the pace and putting him at your mercy. After him ordering you around and how hot that was, it makes you feel empowered to be in charge. You speed up your movements, moving your hips in a circular motion, gently biting down on Bradley's earlobe. This earns you a litany of swears from him, boosting your confidence further. “Is it good for you, lieutenant?” You murmur in his ear teasingly. He slaps your ass in reply, the sting making you moan.

"Darlin' - fuck...I-" Barely coherent, he snaps his hips up instead, meeting you mid-motion. He hits your sweet spot so hard, that you see stars for a second. You lean back, resting your hand on his knee, giving yourself a new angle as you ride him.

His hand is splayed on your stomach, palm pressing down on your lower stomach. His eyes are watching your pussy taking his cock all the way in, glistening with your cum. Bradley grabs onto your hip, snapping his hips up once again.

Your eyes roll into the back of your head at the sensation. He guides you into a faster rhythm, which you happily follow. This position is giving you a prime view of his upper body, the muscles in his stomach clenching deliciously with every move you make.

A sheen of sweat has started to form on your bodies, mingling through your movements. You are sure your cheeks are red, and the blush is spreading onto your chest. Bradley looks flushed, eyes dark with desire, hair mussed. He looks sexier than you could have ever imagined him.

In a sudden move, his fingers are on your clit again, as he snaps his hips up at every more. His movements are frenzied, and you can barely hold it together. Your muscles start contracting again, unbelievably fast from his double assault on you. What is he doing to you?

Your pussy starts clenching around his cock, as he in unrelenting in his rhythm.

“Fuck - Christ, you are so good.” You swear hoarsely. “So much better...”

“So much better than what, sweetheart?” He teases, breathlessly.

“So much—so much better than I imagined.” You pant.

“Have you been thinking about me fucking you, darlin'?” His voice is still teasing, but thick with arousal. “Have you been touching yourself, thinking about me?”

“God, yes - fuck, so much.” Your brain is wiped from the last shreds of rational thought as you come undone under Bradley's fingers again. Your vision goes white for a moment, as you lose control of your faculties. Your pussy clenches like a vice around his cock, drawing a long groan from him, but he doesn't stop.

Before your brain can catch up, Bradley rolls you both over on the bed. You are on your back, as he moves one of your legs over his shoulder, the other over his hip, mercilessly driving into you again. The bed creaks in protest, your breasts bouncing from the force of his movements.

Your hands blindly reach out for him, needing to touch him. He leans into you, bending your legs, and hitting you deeper than before.

“You feel so good - fuck - I can't-” He is close, you know. He grabs your hand, and places it on his throat. You squeeze gently with your fingers. He lets out a primal groan.

“Can I—I need to -” His words are coming out in a hurried jumble.

“I—birth control.” You can barely string together a sentence at this point. “Cum for me, Bradley.”

That's all the invitation he needs. He swears loudly as he rams into you, biting down on your collarbone hard. Your breath is ragged as he stills on top of you, resting on his elbow so as not to crush you completely.

Your collarbone is throbbing, but you can't really bring yourself to care. Soothingly, you move your hands through his hair, over his shoulders and back. Under your palms, you feel the raised edges where your nails scratched his back—oops. He is nuzzling your neck while you wait for your breath to even out, and return to this plane of reality.

You softly kiss his forehead, content to lay tangled up with him for a few moments in silence, before the reality of your situation sets in again. He presses his lips against the column of your neck.

“Can I call you? From the mission?” His voice sounds cautious, unsure almost. Your breath stills for a second—you had not thought about how this could possibly play out, but him wanting to call you gives you butterflies.

“I - yeah, if operational security allows it.” You could kick yourself for that being the first thing out of your mouth. “But I would like that very much.”

“I guess you will know if OpSec puts us in communication black-out.” He grins up at you. You try not to look too sheepish, although you both understand you cannot discuss classified information.

Bradley presses a light kiss against your lips. “I wish I could stay.” He whispers as if confessing to a secret. “Take my time with you, lay here with you.”

“I know.” You whisper back, understanding. “Duty calls.”

As he gets dressed, you add your number to his phone. It's like everything is out of order, and your world is spinning out of control—normally, you get someone's number, go on dates, and have drinks before you'd consider jumping into bed with someone. With Bradley, everything seems to be going backward in an intense, disorienting way.

You hand him back his phone, as he zips his flight suit back up. You have pulled your skirt back down and quickly put on a camisole, still without underwear, which is strewn somewhere around your room.

“Don't be a stranger.” Bradley presses one final lingering kiss on your lips.

“Good night, and good luck.”

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

[edited and updated April 2023]

#bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #bradley bradshaw x female reader #rooster bradshaw #top gun maverick #rooster fanfic #rooster top gun #rooster x oc

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ares-athena · 3 years

Text

Ck Hawk X F! Reader x Miguel

Old flames

Warnings ⚠️- a little angst in the end and swearing but that's it

Summary- your old friends from out of town come to visit and old flames reignite and secrets are revealed in the candel light

This takes place I would mid season two before middles takes a tumble off the second story

When they are all assholes and Kresse is in their head

For this to really make sense let's say you moved around the same time as Miguel and met hawk and Miguel at school

You had a lot of skeletons in the clostet from your old home

This is when you Miguel and hawk weren't exclusive

Muguel wanted to go out with Sam and hawk wanted to go out with moon

When a few of your old friends come to visit you over winter break

Miguel, hawk, aisha, and tory are all over at your place watching some lame Christmas movie to pass time by but it wasn't working

"You expect me to belive they can just bulldoze that building with people in it? That's illegal." -t

"Tory it's a shitty hallmark rom com it's not supposed to make sense." -y

Then there's a knock on the door

"This went from Christmas to holloween real quick." -a

"Shut up." -y

Miguel and hawk were going to go with you but "sit." -y

You go open the door see what the hell the girl scouts are selling this time

"Nora!"- y

You jump on your best friend

Elnora has been your longest friend

You guys met in kindergarten and had been friends ever since

"Get off me" -n

"I brought the rest of the gang" -n

"Come in there's people for you to meet."- y

"You have friends I'm shocked" -w

"Shut it will. I'm not that much of a loner." -y

"I beg to differ" -o

"Hi to you too oli." -y

You make them come to the living room where the cobra kais are

"Guys these are coria, fleur, Elora, Oliver, elijah, and William

"My friends from Indiana" -y

"Hi im coria oh god I love your hair." -c

We all know who that was directed to

"Coria hun I love you but don't talk anyone's ear off please. I just got these friends." -y

"You say that like you bought us at the store" -h

"I thought you made them up.-w

"I am really disappointed that you think I dont have social skills"

"You don't"

"Not really"

"I'm surprised you have this many friends"

You sit my miguel and hawk like before when muguel asked the dumbest question imaginable

"What was she like back in indiana?" -m

"NO. no no no no no no no."

WE are not going down memory lane today" -y

"Do they not know?" -e

"No they do not know and they don't need to know" -y

"Know what?" -h

"On a scale of 1-10 how unhinged is she?"

"I don't know like a 8" -a

"8.5 on a bad day" -t

"Thats it" -o

"Are you kidding me" -e

"This is bullshit." -c

"Where was this calm you back in indiana where we had to stop you from committing arson?" -w

"Hey that was once" -y

"Yeah once a week"-f

"Arson really." -h

"It was a long time ago." -y

"It was last year" -w

WILLIAM Shut the absolute fuck up" -y

"I wanna here more" -t

"I'm glad your laughing at my stupidity." -y

"In all fairness most of those fires were when we were all high as shit" -c

"As funny as this is we have to get home" -a

"More stories tommorow." -c

"I'll be here" -t

Hawk would take them all home

"I have a question." -o

"Yes you can all stay here tonight." -y

And the history between you, Oliver, and elijah was well known with the group and they want you guys back together

You go up to your room

"Can we bunk with you tonight? That girls are all in the second bedroom" -e

"Yeah sure" -y

The three of you were together before you left

The only reason you guys broke up was because you were moving

They knew that ans they had a feeling by the way Miguel and hawk were looking at them that they were your now boyfriends

You were in the middle of the bed elijah on your right and oliver on your left

Just like 1 year ago the last day before you moved

"We missed you" -e

"You both or the whole group?" -y

"Both" -o

That's when oliver kisses you

It's slow and sweet

Just like your last

And elijah is making himself at home in your neck

Until he sees the hickeys from Miguel and hawk

You pull away from oliver

"Those two assholes are your new boys now" -e

"E you don't eli and Miguel." -y

"Why'd you kiss me back then" -o

"We aren't exclusive" -y

"Then they don't want you"- e

And now your kissing elijah like your life depends on it

Oliver leaving New and darker hickeys on your neck for your new boys to find

While coria was at the door taking a picture

That night ends with you tangled in the sheets with your former lovers

And your current ones blowing up your phone wondering about the mystery boys

Miguel and hawk knew there was something going on

They just had a gut feeling

In the morning the four cobra kais went back to house and you and your last night lovers were still asleep

Elnora and Fluer were talking to tory and aisha telling them stories about you

Corina was in the living room with hawk and Miguel

"Where is y/n" -h

"Upstairs sleeping with Oliver and elijah"- c

"They slept in her room?" -m

They knew it

They knew something was up with those too

"They did a lot more than sleep." -c

"Honestly if y/n never moved the three of them wouldn't have broken up." -c

Based on their faces coria knew something was up

"Whats up with you two? Y/n in a new relationship or something?" -c

"Yeah or something." -m

They were about to ask coria more questions when the three of you woke up to join the party

Miguel grabbed you hand

"We need to talk." -h

They dragged you back to your room

Locking the door

"What the hell is wrong with you?" -H

"Like seriously" -h

"What are you on about now" -y

"You fucking your exes as soon as we leave" -m

"How do you know about that?" -y

"Don't worry about it why are you with them when we were calling and texting you all goddamn night" -h

"Last I checked we weren't fucking exclusive so why does it bother you so much?" -y

"Bacuse your ours no one else's." -m

"Thats hypocritical."-y

"We wanted to be exclusive thats why we came over this morning to see you." -h

"Bullshit." -y

"I am tired of this attitude" -m

Hawk pins you on the bed

Miguel is on top of you

"Your ours not your fucking exes understand." -m

Hawk whispers in your ear "we fuck you better anyway"

"Did you ask the girls I was screaming all night" -y

It was an exaggeration but if it riled them both up you were up for it

"Really" -m

"Lets really make you lose your voice then" -m

Needless to say they proved they were better

They spent all day learning more about your past which you hated

"What about the 17?" -w

"No I draw the line at the 17" -y

"I thought it was 20?" -c

"I think it was 20" -f

"20 what?" -t

"NOTHING" -y

"The 20 were people y/n here had a crush on" -e

"I'm sorry you had a crush on 20 people at once" -m

"Maybe" -y

"And people were always adding to it" -w

That went on all night

Everyone spent a night that night

When you, hawk and Miguel were in your room oliver and elijah came in to talk to you

"Y/n/n we need to talk" -o

"What"-y

"Alone" -e

"If you have something to say to her say here" -h

"This doesn't concern you so keep your goddamn mouth shut" -o

"If it has something to do with our girlfriend it does concern the both of us" -m

"So what your exclusive now what the hell was last night y/n?" -o

"Last night was a mistake" -y

"A mistake my ass" -e

"You know what you know our numbers call us when you come to your senses were leaving in the morning" -o

They walk out

Your past just walked out the door

And your present is standing right in front of you

#poly cobra kai #poly ck #poly! hawk and miguel #miguel x hawk #ck headcanons #hawk x miguel x reader #hawk x reader #eli moskowitz smut #eli moskowitz x reader #eli moskowitz #miguel x reader #miguel diaz x reader #miguel diaz #fluff #angst

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discopig · 3 years

Text

That other girl (Thomas Shelby x Reader) [Part 2/3]

Okay so I’ve made a few improvements, first one being I won’t be writing at 2 AM after 4 hours of sleep because I read back part one and honestly wanted to shoot myself, I also added paragraph/scene dividers because the first part was very messy and I kept fucking up the tenses! My imagination has been going wild for this fic so I need to calm myself. I don’t intend for this to be a long story, I hope to finish it by the next part. Hope you guys enjoy :))

Part 1 | Part 3

Warnings: implied family abuse, swearing (doesn’t even need to be a warning)

Word Count: 1,452

You stared at the woman at the door, what seemed like millions of thoughts rushing through your mind at once. She was beautiful. Not to say you weren’t beautiful yourself, but insecurity seemed to be the main component of the blood flowing through your veins at the sight of her. She looked like the models you would see at the fashion shows your mother would take you to as a kid, and she made the plain barmaid’s uniform look like the most expensive piece Chanel could offer.

The woman’s eyes darted between you and harry as she spotted the two of you together.

“Thanks for the help” Harry said, taking the glasses from the basket the woman carried them in. As though he forgot something, he quickly turned around after placing them on the counter behind the bar.

“Grace” he acknowledged the woman, “this is Y/N, your co-barmaid” he said, turning to you.

You were secretly hoping she was just here on delivery for the shop Harry had bought the glasses from, and wished so deeply she wasn’t the barmaid he had mentioned earlier, but alas, she had to be.

“Oh, it’s very nice to meet you” she smiled extending her hand towards you

“Likewise” you gave her a small smile, taking her hand and shaking it

“Harry’s told me a lot about you, about how you help him around the bar and whatnot, how good you are at dealing with the rowdy customers” You picked up on her Irish accent

"Well, that’s nice to hear. Are you not from Birmingham?” you questioned

“Oh no, I’m not. I only got here about a week ago. I used to work at a bar in Galway, so I got quite lucky to be able to get a job at a bar here” she replied.

Quite lucky I sprained my fuckin’ ankle you mean. You mentally scoffed at her

“That is quite lucky” you laughed

By now Harry had left to sort out the glasses in storage, so you figured you might as well pry for something out of her

“So Harry tells me you’ve been serving the Shelby boys while I’ve been gone, you know they’re trouble?” You asked, staring into her eyes, trying to gauge any sort of reaction you could receive. She seemed unfazed.

“Well, they’ve been quite nice to me, given me lots of tips”

“Is that so? Who’s been giving you tips?” They never gave you tips, even on the busiest of nights when you were running back and forth serving their requests for beer which seemed to come through ever 10 fucking seconds

“Uh, the tall one” John. Damn him.

“Ah, I see, hopefully it was good money” you ‘beamed’ at her, trying to be friendly

“Good enough” she laughed back

“So what brings you to Birmingham?”

“My father passed away and I just needed a change of scenery” she replied, her eyes showed sadness, so you figured her father passing couldn’t be a lie, but a change of scenery in Birmingham? Yeah right. Maybe on some farm surrounded by chickens and mosquitoes, or in some tropical American city, but not in Birmingham. Most people want out, not in, unless they have good reason to favour the latter.

“I’m sorry to hear that”

“It’s okay, he was quite old anyways, I had expected it at some point” she replied with a half smile, eyes still sad.

You both sat in silence for a moment until you spoke “I’ll be back next week to help out” you looked towards the door, more customers starting to pile in, Harry back from the storage room, rushing to get their orders, and back at Grace “things are starting to get busy, I won’t hold you any longer. It was nice meeting you” you smiled at her, getting up from your seat and heading out of the Garrison, trudging to the betting shop.

The Shelby family were in the midst of a family meeting, discussing business you honestly didn’t care much about, thoughts racing with how you were going to have Thomas’ head on a stake.

“That copper, is going to try and bring this family down with every fuckin’ cell in his body” Thomas exclaimed

“What copper?” you asked. Thomas looked at you like you had just asked him if the sun was a rock

“Campbell. We’ve been talking about him this whole meeting Y/N” you could tell he was annoyed, but you didn’t care

“When did he get here? When did this start?” you asked

“Why does that-” Thomas started

“Answer the fucking question Thomas Shelby” you interrupted

“About a week ago, he worked as a copper in Ireland, and has come with his troops to Birmingham to try and ruin all of my fucking plans. Keep up please!” He replied, clearly frustrated.

Ireland?

You knocked on the door to Thomas’ office and waited before you heard a low “Come in”

You walked into his office, Thomas looking down at some papers, and sat down on one of the chairs at his desk

“How are you liking the new barmaid?” You asked, staring him down.

At the mention of the barmaid he looked up at you, a mix of panic and annoyance flashing in his eyes

“She does her job Y/N. What else can I think of her? He replied with a sigh at the end

“Oh I’m sure she does her job well enough for you to be having secret meetings with her” you replied, venom laced in your voice. You were starting to get angry, and him behaving as though he was annoyed by your presence wasn’t making it any easier

“Y/N what are you-”

“Don’t fucking what me Thomas Shelby! Harry told me all about the lovely interest you’ve taken to her, enough so to meet with her every fucking day! Did you fuck her?! If you did you better tell me because so help me God if I find out from-”

“I did not fucking sleep with her Y/N will you PLEASE calm down?” Thomas yelled, his voice booming through the office

“If you didn’t sleep with her then what did you do?”

“We just talked” he answered, as though everything was normal

“Just talked?! Have you forgotten that you have a girlfriend Thomas, a girlfriend who had a sprained fucking ankle and couldn’t walk, who you could’ve come to any time to just talk?! You think I’m supposed to believe that’s all you did? Why would you just talk to her and not me?!” You were screaming again, your anger reaching a tipping point

“Because she isn’t like you Y/N!”

You looked at him, visibly confused

“She didn’t grow up with daddy’s loaded bank account in some posh city, she’s genuine, like a breath of fresh fucking air in this place! She gets me, and I get her, and she happened to be there when I needed someone to talk to! Is that so bad?!” You stared at him dumbfounded, not only had he implied that he could not come to you -his girlfriend- when he needed someone to talk to, he also brought up your family and history, knowing damn well the riches your family had, meant nothing to you, constantly overshadowed by the yelling, bruises and loneliness.

The true weight of his words seemed to register with him as regret flashed in his eyes under your dumbfounded, yet angry gaze

“Fuck you Thomas Shelby. Fuck you. She’s working with that fucking copper”

He moved to say something but you quickly interrupted him

“I know you did your stupid background checks, I asked Arthur about it. She’s not from fucking Galway, she never worked in any bars, meaning she lied about everything, and she, your lovely Irish angel shows up at the same time that copper does, and you still willingly walk into her presence every damn day while your girlfriend is alone, to talk?! To fucking talk?!”

Thomas was visibly getting angrier as you accused her of working with Campbell, moving to defend her

“Don’t you think you’re going too far?! I get you’re jealous but you can’t just make shit up!”

You scoffed

“Polly was right about men only being able to think with their cocks. Even you, the oh so smart Thomas Shelby, are a blind fucking idiot. Fuck you, I never want to see you again, you hear me? You can go talk to that fucking barmaid as much as you want” You spat, leaving his office with a loud slam of his door, catching John’s worried eyes as you stormed out of the shop. Your ankle was radiating with pain, but you ignored it as you stormed home.

Fucking Shelbys.

#cillian murphy x reader #Cillian murphy fanfic #tommy shelby x reader #thomas shelby x reader #thomas shelby fanfic #thomas shelby imagine #peaky blinder imagine #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinder x reader

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theoriginalcarnivorousmuffin · 4 years

Note

Hey, you once mentioned something about Tom Riddle being a little suicidal. Your new post reminded of that and I wonder why you think that. It’s the complete opposite of what the books want you to think.

Alright, it’s time, let’s do this.

My standard disclaimer whenever we venture into the dark pit that is my thoughts on Tom Riddle: I’m going to say a lot of controversial stuff that fandom generally doesn’t agree with, I will say so much of this shit that I simply do not have time to explain it all, I expect 99% of you to disagree with me and the other 1% to be so horrifyingly offended that I dare to contemplate a world in which Tom isn’t always an overly competent psychopath that they leave me notes telling me to take this trash out of their character tags.

We good? Alright.

So, when I say a little suicidal, I mean that he is suicidal.

Not on the level that he’s going to kill himself tomorrow, or even has plans to kill himself, but in that he makes very strange decisions for someone who desperately wants to live.

And yes, I realize I speak blasphemy given that Tom Riddle’s entire m.o. is supposed to be his crippling fear of death.

Oh man, this one’s going to be so long.

So, my reasoning comes down to a few things:

The location of the horcruxes and the nature of their protections.

The events of Deathly Hallows and Tom’s final actions in the novel

The nature of horcruxes and what it means to not only be able to create one but what it does to you (caveat that I am going to headcanon hard here and speak utter blasphemy)

So, let’s start in order this time, because I think the first two are actually far easier for me to explain.

The Location and Nature of the Horcrux Protections and the Trouble with Backdoors in Security

So, first, the horcruxes are all conveniently located in Great Britain. Not even just in Great Britain, all in places that Albus Dumbledore and later Harry Potter can track down with relative ease, all fairly close to each other.

Now, part of this is undoubtedly attributable to Tom’s overly romantic nature.

Yes, Tom Riddle is a giant romantic, though not necessarily in the traditional sense everyone thinks of. The film “Patton” and its treatment of Patton comes to mind. Tom Riddle is a man enamored by a sense of greatness, of being remembered in this world rather than fading into oblivion, by the significance of places and times in history not only of the world but of himself. He creates an entire, grand, persona for himself because to live an ordinary life for him is to be worthy of nothing.

So, given that, of course Tom places the horcruxes in sentimental locations that have personal meaning to him.

However, it also makes them perilously easy to find and collect.

By itself, this wouldn’t spark my notice.

The ability to destroy horcruxes are not easy to come by. There’s only one basilisk and it’s by chance/Lucius fucking up that Harry gains access to the necessary basilisk venom. Using Fyendfire is an incredibly dangerous thing to do and just as likely to blow up you and the next three towns over as it is to destroy a horcrux. And if there are other means of destroying a horcrux they’re just as hard to come by or just as dangerous.

It’s not quite throwing it into the fires of Mt. Doom from which it was forged but it’s pretty damn close.

So, really, without JKR’s convenient Deus Ex Machina giving both him and Dumbledore the means to actually destroy these things, Tom Riddle’s horcruxes are pretty damn safe no matter where we put them. As we see from the locket, which Regulus manages to collect but Kreacher cannot destroy even after several decades.

However, what does spark my notice, is that the horcruxes can be collected by someone other than Tom Riddle when it appears as if they were never intended to be. What do I mean by this?

From what we see, there’s no benefit to Tom if the original horcruxes are found by anyone. He doesn’t seek them out to restore his original body, they’re just anchor points that should be hidden at all costs. So, he’ll never need a Death Eater to go collect them for him should he be indisposed (indeed, to do so would require a tremendous amount of trust in people he has very little trust in).

So, why hide them in such a way that others can access them? There are canon based options which would have prevented anyone else from reaching them. Given the existence of age lines, I imagine Tom Riddle could make some arbitrary barrier keyed only to himself. There are mokeskin pouches, such as the one Harry is given in the seventh book, which we know can only be accessed by whoever they’re keyed to. There’s the Fidelius Charm which, true requires a secret keeper which Tom would be very meh on, but options exist.

Tom Riddle could wipe the locations of his horcruxes off the face of the map. He chooses not to. Which leads me to believe that, at least on some unconscious level, he wants the horcruxes to be found.

Then we have the protections.

Specifically, I’m thinking of the locket here.

Yes, the protections are very formidable, but they’re also goddamn weird.

Rather than make the horcrux simply inaccessible, kill all those intruding, instead the intruder has to go through a very “Saw” like puzzle in which they drown themselves in despair until they finally get the locket, at which point they likely suicide by zombie.

More, there’s no hint that there’s any other way to retrieve the locket.

Backdoors in security are a very bad idea. What they do is weaken the security as a whole and, if you can take a short cut is, it means that someone who is clever enough and motivated enough can to. Dumbledore is both clever and motivated enough, and I imagine if there was a way to get the horcrux that involved not doing this ridiculous task he would have done it.

More, we’d be back to the land of Tom making sure only he can access the horcrux by requiring a password, keying it to his magical signature, or something so that no one else could get it.

Which means, that’s right, if Tom wants to get the locket he’s drinking the goddamn despair juice just like the rest of us.

What kind of a person would do any of this?

I’ve gone over this before, but I don’t think Tom Riddle’s crazy. Rather, in this case, I think he’s driven by an unbelievable amount of nihilist rage and is also quite depressed.

Tom goes to collect his horcrux, “Ah, it’s time to remember what a miserable life I’ve led and the sheer awfulness of my own existence. Good, I was starting to feel a little too happy. Let’s see if I get eaten by my undead, vengeful, victims today.”

The Events of Deathly Hallows and Tom Riddle’s Death

I think Tom Riddle’s final death in the books was suicide.

Tom takes over the Wizarding World, finally, and it’s as miserable as ever.

He’s trapped in this sham, barely functional, probably very painful body. His Death Eaters are completely out of control and for all that he wanted society to burn it’s now burning and no one’s even learned anything from this. Children in Hogwarts are being routinely tortured and have now staged a rebellion in which he’s having to slaughter them (I have reasons to believe that this is not what Tom Riddle wanted, at all, but that’s best saved for another post), and then he learns his horcruxes have all been destroyed without him even noticing.

There’s so little left of him, he has accomplished nothing, and there’s Harry Potter back from the dead yet again, gloating at him that love conquers all and Tom Riddle will never understand.

And Harry’s right, Tom Riddle will never understand, the world is meaningless and flat to him now and he finally understand that there’s no point to it. I think Tom Riddle decides he’s done. He’s just done.

He enters in a duel with Harry Potter knowing the weird nature of their wands. Now, it can be assumed he used the Elder Wand, but we know they get locked in Priori Incatatum , and that makes no damn sense with the Elder Wand (well, wandlore in general is silly, but I’m working with what JKR gave me here). So I choose to take JKR at her somewhat established canon and say that, no matter what Harry thought, Voldemort was using his original wand.

He throws out the killing curse, despite having now witnessed Harry resurrecting twice to this thing, and within two seconds it rebounds and kills him.

Voldemort’s death is a lot like this scene from the recent, terrible, 2020 live action Mulan (10/10 do not recommend). Now, we’re supposed to think that this scene is the witch saving Mulan’s life and thus showing her hope for the next generation. In actuality, the witch literally flies into an arrow she could have easily deflected from Mulan’s path. It’s a suicide that Mulan is too stupid to notice.

Tom chooses suicide in the most ridiculous, flamboyant, and easily written off manner one can and no one even notices. Instead Harry crows that he has personally defeated Voldemort, with the power of love no less, HUZZAH!

And the castle parties.

The Nature of Horcruxes

I almost don’t want to include this because it’s so... well, I’m really drifting far from canon and fandom now.

However, with horcruxes, there’s always an overriding question of why Tom is able to make so many when we don’t see anyone else with these things around (especially as it’s clear that murder doesn’t simply happen for those that now have horcruxes).

Usually, you have fic authors just sort of shrug and go, “Well, he’s that evil, I guess.” Sometimes you have them go, “No one else is crazy enough to keep going, and that’s why Voldemort’s cuckoo bananas.”

One very good explanation I’ve seen is that it’s because most people, when they murder, feel remorse immediately. The soul split happens, but they’re haunted by the murder for the rest of their life, and thus the horcrux isn’t made. Voldemort, feeling nothing when he kills anyone, is thus able to make them even for when he’s only indirectly associated with the death in question.

However, to me that never really jived philosophically.

Mostly, I simply cannot imagine that tearing apart your very soul is an act of indifference. Here’s how I see it: to do something like that to yourself, you must care, you must care beyond all imagine and human endurance. Your soul literally cannot abide it and saws itself in half, purging what you cannot stand about yourself the most.

The remorse part is, yes, remorse for the act and the victim but more to the point it is the ability to forgive and reaccept the worst part of yourself. That part of yourself that you purged and destroyed, which is nearly impossible to do and might very well destroy the fabric of who you are).

In other words, while creating a horcrux is an abominable act of hatred, it is also one of profound self-hatred.

Tom Riddle loathes himself so much that he is able to do this over and over and over again.

As Tom Riddle goes on he makes himself into less and less and less of himself until he probably doesn’t even know who he is anymore. He just knows, whatever is left of him, he loathes that too.

And then, of course, he gives up, runs into the nearest flying arrow, and dies.

TL;DR: Tom Riddle’s is a miserable existence that ended in a miserable if unintentionally hilarious manner

#ask #anon #tom riddle #voldemort

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chipper-smol · 3 years

Text

Hollow Knight Telephone Round Two: Relic Coffee Shop

Prompt

Prompts:

1: Lemm finds an odd fellow at the Blue Lake. Normally he wouldn’t bother to approach a stranger out of nowhere, but something in his gut urges him to take action. Quirrel, feeling the effects of age on his body, stares incredulously at the bearded face of a stranger who apparently wants to have him over for coffee. 2: Lemm sets up shop in an abandoned cafe. It’s roomy and pleasant at first, but there are _stacks_ of these disgusting old bitter coffee beans clogging up the rooms. It doesn’t help that bugs keep coming in to order a drink even though he’s posted signs to _KEEP OUT!!_ However, once they start offering Geo be begrudgingly takes it as an opportunity to achieve funds to pay for relics. 3: At first, the coffee was just an excuse to get Geo to pay for relics, but Lemm’s begun to notice that bugs who wandered into his shop with the telltale early symptoms of infection no longer have them on their return visits. He tells himself he’s not an altruist. He’s _not._It’s just a waste to throw out old coffee when someone just needs a pick-me-up.

By @bluwails

------------------------------- By @hydrochlorinate

“Just don’t. Tell. Anyone. Else.”

Those were the words that came out of the grumpy barista’s mouth that fateful day. One’s that you completely ignored, as you had already been drinking what could only be the drink of HIgher Beings, with just how heavenly it tasted.

Grinning like a lunatic, you give him 45 geo, not a small sum. If anything though, it was hilariously cheap for a drink that was this good. The bug doesn’t complain about the amount though, so he’s probably fine with it. Wings fluttering in excitement, you leave the shop, ready to tell any remaining survivors about the amazing drink shop you just found.

===============>(Coffee Shop AU)

The next time you come in, the store is absolutely packed. Denizens from all across the ruins of Hallownest are here, ranging from some uninfected moss knights to that one ladybug that you had a dance off with a while back. There's even a noble here, and- is that a mantis?

Anyway, it looks like your very subtle method of giving publicity to this cafe by talking about literally nothing else to whomever you talked to over the following week paid off. Good, this place deserves all the atte-  “You.”

Oh? You snap out of your thoughts, and look towards the counter, where the barista is levelling a glare at you that could instantly wither those delicate flowers that have been spreading around recently.

You stroll on up to the counter, a grin stretching across your face. The barista narrows his eyes.

“Didn’t I tell you to keep this a secret? Why is my establishment filled to the brim with bugs? Who are these people?!”

...huh. Did he tell you to keep it on the down low? It seems in character from your limited interactions, but you don’t remember exactly. Oh well, time to play it off. You tell him that, well, what can you say except you’re welcome.

You’ve never seen a bug go from “Irritated” to “Ballistic” as fast as this barista. Usually they make a stop at “Angry” or “Absolutely Livid”.

“YOU’RE WELCOME?!?!”  No, see, he’s supposed to say thank you.  “THANK YOU???”  You tell him he’s welcome, before laughing. No, really, you tell him, look around, the place is packed! Business is booming! The barista (you should really ask for his name) manages to bring his volume under control, taking in a deep breath.

“That’s part of the problem. I’m a relic seeker, not a-” He gestures around the cafe, as if looking for the right words to use. Barista, you suggest.

“Exactly. I’m not made to brew coffee-” Oh, that’s what it was called. “-or to be dealing with customers all day long.”

Sure. That’s why he decided to allow people to keep purchasing coffee, or why he decided to put on a cute green and white visor.

You didn’t just come to check in on your new favorite bug though, you have coffee to order! Taking out a sheet of paper from your bag, you begin to read out both your order, and those of your companions. Even with the end of the infection, the leftover damage to hallownest’s caves and architecture makes it dangerous to travel alone.

As you begin to read out your order, the barista shifts from crotchety old bug to attentive worker. You really wish you had come back earlier, instead of letting some of your other traveling buddies pick up the coffee for you. Something about the atmosphere here is… relaxing, despite the amount of people.

After your order is finished, you leave the cafe. Back to the real world bucko, as an old friend of yours would always say.

...Wait a minute you never got the barista’s name.

===============>(Coffee Shop AU)

It’s been 3 weeks. You think. Time gets a little funky down here, what with the sudden influx of void. Sure, most of it has cleared out by now, but every so often your exploration party comes across a tunnel that hasn’t quite been fully illuminated, the shadows just a bit too thick to be natural.

You enter the coffee shop again. It’s gotten a lot quieter as time went on and bugs started coming in on a schedule. There’s still plenty of other customers here, but it’s nowhere near as packed as the first couple of days. Lemm (yeah, you finally got his name) stands at the counter, still slightly disgruntled, but a lot less so than he was at the beginning. In fact, he’s actually talking to someone right now! An actual conversation too, not just an exchange of witty remarks. You can’t see their face, but they appear to be a pillbug wearing a blue hood.  As you step up to the counter, you can hear their conversation a bit better.

“...of course, I couldn’t just leave it sitting there right? So I move to pick it up, only to find out that the desk I dropped it on was magnetized! So here I am, trying and failing to pick up this one plant hanger for a solid 10 minutes.”

They both laugh at this, before noticing you. The unknown bug turns to face you, allowing you to see his mask.  “Oh, hello, I don’t believe we’ve met before!”

You greet him back, introducing yourself.

“It’s nice to meet you. My name’s Quirrell. I’m… well, I can’t really call myself an explorer, because I’ve already been everywhere! I’m more of a wanderer, really.”

Ahh, a free spirit, you see. You point out that just because he’s been everywhere doesn’t mean he’s seen everything. After all, who knows what could’ve gone down during Hallownest’s peak. Both Quirrell and Lemm get amused by this, for some reason. Seeing your confused look, Lemm decides to speak up.

"He probably knows more about Hallownest than everyone here, having lived here since before the infection and all."

Your eyes widen, and your wings begin to flutter. Truly? An original denizen, and not someone else trying to piece together its history? Quirrell waves off the words, though.

"I wouldn't go that far…" He begins, but Lemm cuts him off before he can go any further.

"Hah! Next you'll be telling me that you weren't the head assistant of the kingdom's best scientist!"

Giving off the equivalent of a blush, Quirrell rubs the back of his head. Lemm turns back to you.

"I'm sure you didn't come in just to chat, though. What can I get for you?"

It's nice to see him making friends.

------------------------------- By @schyrsivochter

Lemm wasn’t a sociable person. That was a fact. He wasn’t good at talking, or at being friendly. (It wasn’t like he needed it, anyway. It had been a long time since he’d enjoyed conversing with another bug.)

No, Lemm was much more of a person for reading. Deciphering the journals of the long dead, the writing and languages, was something he thoroughly enjoyed. Other artefacts spoke differently: the materials from which they were made, the way they were worked, the artistic style. It was a different kind of reading; some might say a more figurative one. But it was just as interesting.

Of course, architecture was part of that. It had not been a coincidence that Lemm had set up camp in Hallownest’s abandoned capital. When he’d arrived, he hadn’t dared to think that he’d ever finish exploring and finding new things. And it was true; he’d only explored a little bit before he’d realised that collecting and gathering relics was no use if he never took a proper look at them, instead letting them gather dust on the shelves, the tables, and the floor of the long-abandoned shop he’d moved into. So he’d decided to stay there, poring over his collection. His picture of the world of Hallownest in times past grew ever more detailed, more complete.

He’d opened the shop because people did not seem to stop wanting to sell him relics, and it never hurt to appear a little professional. And it had been a reliable source of new artefacts; new knowledge. He’d never sold anything, of course. His collection was his, and his alone.

And then came the dark. The cleansing void. It had taken him by surprise; he’d been working, and only noticed that anything was amiss when the light dimmed and he was finally bathed in darkness. He must’ve fallen unconscious at that point, and there’d been no telling how long it had been until he’d awoken. It hadn’t been until later that he’d learned that this was what had obliterated the plague, leaving in its wake hundreds of confused survivors and thousands of dead. No, the next thing to happen that told him things were not as usual was that a bug had come in, asked if he was open, and, upon his affirmative answer, asked for a hot drink, holding out a piece of ten.

Taken by surprise, he’d offered to make tea. He’d immediately regretted it, since it meant the bug would be staying for a while, probably without selling him relics, but it was easy enough to do and would get him geo, his supply of which had been running low. So he put a kettle on and took the money. The bug had thanked him profusely, while he had elected to remain quiet.

Not long afterwards, the same bug and four others stood in the doorway. Whether they had relics for him, he’d asked. They’d looked amongst themselves, and one had asked, ‘Is this not a coffee shop?’

‘I suppose it might’ve once been,’ he’d said. ‘Now it’s mine.’

More confused looks and standing around, and then the bug he’d seen before asked if he’d make more tea. He’d said no, not unless they paid him twice as much as the last time and stayed quiet and didn’t disturb him in his work. To his horror, the five bugs had agreed, and so he’d dug out cups from the coffee shop’s former stock and afterwards found himself a little richer in geo but with a significantly worse mood.

He had his peace afterwards, though. At least for a while. Now a bug had arrived, taller than the others, wearing a headscarf. Lemm had mentally prepared for the bug to ask for coffee, but the bug had halted in front of one of the tables that Lemm had repurposed for his collection of relics.

‘Admiring my collection?’ Lemm asked.

’Yes, quite!’ the bug answered, chipper and friendly. ‘I’m curious how you managed to get a hold of so many texts in such diverse languages! These are journals, are they not?’

‘They are,’ Lemm acknowledged. ‘From all over Hallownest.’

‘But most of them aren’t any Hallownest language.’ The bug put a hand on his mask. ‘I suppose they’re from travellers that came to the ruins and perished?’

‘Quite right,’ Lemm said. He had to admit, begrudgingly, that the bug standing before him was sharp and knew his history. A trait not many others shared.

‘Can you read all of them?’ The mask turned towards Lemm, inclined in question.

‘No,’ he answered truthfully, making his way around the counter to stand next to the bug. ‘I haven’t had the time to decipher all of them yet. But I’ll get around to it eventually.’

‘Interesting,’ the bug said. ‘I can—huh?’

He turned towards the entrance, and Lemm followed his gaze. Lemm was about to ask what the problem was, when a bug appeared in the entrance. The one that he’d made tea twice for. Ah yes, he thought. A customer. Two of them, in fact; one of the others from before had joined the one who’d taken a fancy to paying Lemm to make tea.

‘I don’t suppose,’ Lemm said, ‘there is any way to convince you to find tea somewhere else?’

The bugs shook their head.

Lemm sighed, and muttered an apology to the tall visitor. Time to get it over with.

He went to the back room to prepare the tea, and overheard the two visitors conversing in the front.

‘What’s this, anyway?’

‘Historical documents. Journals of travellers.’

‘What’s it doing here?’

‘I think the shopkeep collects them.’

‘That’s correct!’ Lemm called. ‘I’m always buying, if you have anything of historical value.’

He grabbed the cups and walked back to the front. ‘That’s fifty geo. Unless you have relics.’

The bugs complained under their breath, but paid up, and Lemm could direct his attention back to the visitor.

‘So is this what you do?’ they asked. ‘Opened the coffee shop again and collecting relics in your free time?’

Lemm was dumbstruck for a moment. Then he remembered to be outraged. ‘No! I am not opening this place as a coffee shop! People just keep coming and demanding tea and I cannot let an opportunity to earn easy money go to waste!’

‘Relic business not exactly booming, then, I assume?’

‘I’m—’ he spluttered, ‘It’s not a business! I don’t sell my relics, they’re mine!’

‘So you wouldn’t have any income if you weren’t selling tea?’

Lemm had the distinct impression that the bug was making fun of him. He didn’t answer, but simply walked up to the table, grabbed a random journal, and took it to his desk to try and get some work done.

He had not yet prepared his quill and ink when he was interrupted yet again.

‘You know,’ the visitor called, ‘that one is from a traveller from Greynest. Came here looking for his brother, never found him. No doubt said brother also perished in the ruins.’

Lemm turned around to see the bug standing in the doorway, having followed him halfway. ‘And how do you know this?’ he asked.

The bug shrugged. ‘I read it.’

Lemm regarded the bug. They didn’t seem to be joking.

‘You mean to tell me,’ Lemm began, slowly, ‘you know this language?’

‘Yes,’ they said nonchalantly. ‘I think I’ve been to Greynest? Must have been a while ago.’

‘Are you a traveller, then?’ Lemm asked. ‘You don’t seem the type.’

As soon as he’d spoken the words, Lemm became aware how utterly ridiculous it was of him to make observations about people. He didn’t like people, he wasn’t interested in people—

The bug laughed. ‘I am, in fact. I have travelled far and wide.’

‘Hmph,’ said Lemm, unsure what else to say. He turned back to his work, looked at the angular shapes carved into the stone, but now it seemed senseless to try and make sense of it when he knew that it was no mystery to the bug standing behind him.

At some point, he looked up and found that he was hungry and the visitor was gone. Oh, well. Time for a meal, then, and afterwards he might be able to find something else to do.

* * *

The next time the tea-drinker returned, they asked for tea and then asked Lemm about the relics, and he was in a favourable enough mood to talk about them. They asked some fairly stupid questions, but it seemed to come out of a genuine interest in the topic, so he indulged them. Plus, he had to admit that he enjoyed having a reliable source of geo. Not that he needed it much for buying relics, these days, but he supposed that his supplies of food – and of tea – would not last indefinitely, and he didn’t particularly fancy having to go back to scavenging, now that there were actual people living in the vicinity again. No, he’d rather find some place where he could buy what he needed fair and square.

The traveller with the headscarf returned, and it was an odd sort of feeling Lemm had about them. Like he actually liked having them in his shop and talking to them. And the perplexing thing was that the bug also seemed to enjoy conversing with Lemm. Which one one hand was absolutely preposterous, on the other … it was a refreshing change.

The bug introduced himself as Quirrel, apprentice to Monomon the Teacher, and Lemm could hardly believe it. Monomon the Teacher, one of the most brilliant minds of Hallownest? It couldn’t be! And yet it was not all too difficult to imagine. He’d seen stranger things in these lands.

Quirrel also was the one who later suggested Lemm officially open the shop as a coffee shop again. Lemm had thrown him out at that and gone back to work.

Now, a short while later, he looked up and Quirrel was back, standing at the counter, watching Lemm silently.

Lemm rose and went to the front, choosing to stare back equally silently. Lemm was good at that. Probably.

‘So,’ Quirrel said at length, his voice still as annoyingly friendly as ever, ‘have you thought about it?’

Lemm kept staring.

Quirrel held up his hands. ‘You need money, you don’t have much else to do, and besides’ – Quirrel shrugged. – ‘people like your tea.’

‘I certainly have enough to do,’ Lemm started. ‘These texts don’t decipher themselves. What’s so funny?’

Quirrel stopped his giggling and said, ‘They sort of do. Have you forgotten who stands before you?’

‘You don’t read all of these languages.’ Really, Quirrel’s ego was getting on Lemm’s nerves.

‘But most of them,’ Quirrel said, shrugging, ‘and most of the Archive’s records are intact. And we do have a nice section on language and writing.’

Lemm was silent for a moment, mostly because he could not think of a good comeback. Quirrel had a point, and Lemm did not like that in the slightest.

‘Let’s make a deal,’ Quirrel said. ‘I help you translate your texts and catalogue your artefacts, and you’ – Quirrel jabbed a finger in Lemm’s direction – ‘you sell your tea officially.’

‘Out of the question.’

‘You’re already doing it.’

‘I am not!’

‘Yes, you are.’ Quirrel said this with absolute certainty and no anger, and there was a voice at the back of Lemm’s mind that said: You really sort of are. And you could use the help. You don’t like the busywork anyway.

‘All right,’ Lemm grumbled. ‘Deal.’

‘Thank you,’ said Quirrel, audibly grinning.

‘I’m going to regret this, aren’t I?’ Lemm asked under his breath.

‘I don’t think so,’ Quirrel said. ‘I’m curious – what else can you make? Tea alone is a bit boring, don’t you think?’

‘Shut up,’ Lemm said, ‘or I change my mind.’

* * *

Lemm did not change his mind, even though Quirrel didn’t shut up. It had been a while, and Lemm hated to admit it, but he enjoyed doing something different for a change. Customers were now plenty, and Lemm had a menu with more than one item, and his relic collection was no bigger, but more orderly and better understood than it had ever been, thanks to Quirrel’s – and the Archive’s – help.

Another thing that Lemm was not quite ready to admit was that people could be nice. The more he talked to customers, interacted with them, observed them, the more he began to appreciate them. He used to be content in reading historical texts and artefacts, preferring to learn about people that were dead and gone. Living bugs had never really interested him.

Nowadays, however, it seemed that people could be just as interesting to read as anything else. And, as Quirrel entered, greeting him, and he could not help his mood being lifted just by the prospect of learning something new and interesting that Quirrel learnt on his last trip to the Archive, Lemm supposed that sometimes, very rarely … people were something he could enjoy.

------------------------------- By @gardening-clown

------------------------------- By @buglife

Lemm was five seconds away from throwing someone through the window.

His shop was now occupied by five bugs of various species, talking, laughing, and sitting around when he could be in the back doing literally anything else. It took weeks of bugs thinking that his relic shop was a coffee one before he simply gave up and made peace with it. At least he got some geo from it to pay adventurers that did come by to sell legit relics. How they mistook his shop for a coffee one, he would have never guess.

All he had was a little brewer that was barely put back together that he scavenged from some random shop, but other bugs seemed to like it, for some strange reason. It wasn’t even good coffee he was making, but they seemed to accept it. After all, who else in this dead kingdom was even selling coffee? He had looted plenty of shops and took as many sacks of beans as he would when he first arrived, and there was no way he could drink them all, so he might as well do something with them.

But he was steadily losing his patience with the amount of bugs around him. They were talking and loitering. Loitering was probably the worst of it all as it made the loner bug feel his shell crawl with the forced social interaction. He just wanted them to leave. He couldn’t stand the feeling of a crowded space, which is why he went to a dead kingdom in the first place.

Hell, he had to take his beloved odds and ends down from the shelves to keep some curious bug from touching them all up with their dirty fingers and breaking something.

He found himself dreading the sound of the bell above his door, and when it rang he wondered if someone else was coming to ask him for some random drink or be an annoying thorn in his side.

To his hidden delight however, it was the little wanderer. They looked like a grub, to be honest, with a black body and a stark white horned shell for a head. The nail on their back seemed to be a little put together the last time he saw them, perhaps they visited the Nailsmith? He never asked for their name, he didn’t want to learn it to avoid attachments, but he found them oddly endearing. They liked to listen to him ramble about his theories on various relics they bring him, so they can’t be too bad. Plus they were quiet and polite, something he was immensely grateful for.

They bounced inside the door and came to a stop, looking at the five other bugs sitting around and chatting. They tilted their head to the side, watching the bugs for a moment before looking at Lemm. They stretched out a stubby arm from under their cloak and pointed at him.

Lemm sighed. Of course, the little Wanderer had been gone for a while, and obviously didn’t know what had become of his beloved shop. He gestured for them to come over, which they did and looked up at him expectantly.

“Bugs keep thinking that this is a coffee shop.” He explained. “So here they are, drinking coffee that I make on a terrible little brewer. I gave up trying to kick them all out all the time, it stopped being worth the effort.”

The little wanderer blinked a few times, looking somewhat confused. They pointed to the cup being held by the beetle on one of Lemm’s chairs and mimed the action of drinking it.

“Yes, that’s coffee they are drinking.” He raised a brow as he looked down at the grub. “Haven’t you ever seen coffee before?”

They shook their head.

“Really now? Hrm…” He wasn’t sure where the little wanderer had come from if they never saw coffee before. It was a fairly common drink besides tea. They must have grew up in a rather isolated place If they never saw it. He decided he might as well explain it, it would be better to do it now than later.

“Coffee is a drink that bugs like to drink to give them energy.” He saw them perk up a bit at the ‘energy’ part. “It’s rather bitter, so some like it with sugar. I like it plain. It keeps me awake when I am working.”

They somehow made a face when he said it was bitter, tilting their head and angling their eye holes to look affronted. Lemm squashed down a laugh at the expression and decided to get to business.

“Anyway, they trade me geo for it, which lets me compensate bugs that get me relics. Do you have any for me today?” He hoped they did, he needed something to brighten up his day.

The wanderer nodded, reaching under their cloak to pull out a black orb. Lemm recognized it immediately to be an arcane egg. He loved working with those. Peeling back each layer revealed new information and new discoveries. He was in fact, still working on the one he got weeks before. He needed to be careful with them, and he reveled in the intense focus and work it needed to discover it’s secrets. His day instantly got better.

“Very nice, I’ll be glad to take that off your hands for the usual price.” The old beetle held out his hand and the wanderer gently placed the egg it in. They held up a hand once it was free and shook their head, pointed to a cup sitting on the counter.

“Ah, you want to trade this for a cup of coffee?” He wasn’t going to say no to that. If the wanderer was okay with it, it was a perfectly reasonable business transaction. His suspicions were confirmed when they nodded and bounced in place, looking as excited as they were able to. “Well I can certainly do that.”

Thankfully, the two bugs occupying the chairs in front of the counter left, leaving behind their dirty cups and a few geo for the mess. They thanked him and he grumped out a ‘have a good day’ as they left, seemingly indifferent to his mood. Oh well, at least it brought down the occupancy to a more manageable level for his social batteries. He pushed the dirty cups out of the way and gestured to an open seat. “Here, sit down and I’ll get you a cup.”

They bounced upwards to take a seat, swinging their legs back and forth as they waited. It didn’t take Lemm long to throw some ground up beans and water into the grinder, watching the brewed coffee pour into a clean cup. He carefully carried the hot cup down and set it in front of the wanderer. “Be careful, it’s very hot. I’ll bring you some sugar, you didn’t seem to like the ‘bitter’ description.”

They nodded and watched as he pushed over a bowl of honey sugar and a spoon. It was the least he could do after they got him another arcane egg. “There you are, help yourself.”

They bowed their head in thanks and took up the spoon, poking it into the bowl.

“Excuse me,” One of the bugs by the window got up, the one with a bent antenna and holding their empty cup. “Could I get a refill, please?”

Lemm held back a sigh and nodded, taking the cup and heading back to his brewer. He had to smack it a couple times for it to start working again, but in the end he got a passable cup of coffee out of it. He returned just in timed to hear said bug exclaim, “Woah there buddy, you must really like sugar!”

He looked to the wanderer, who had added so much sugar to their cup of coffee, that he could hear the sugar that couldn’t dissolve scrape against the ceramic as it was stirred. It looked like fresh cement, there was only a bit of brown to denote that once, it was indeed a cup of coffee.

He wordlessly handed the other bug their coffee, who took it and retreated back to sit by the window. He was about to say something to the wanderer, when to his horror, their head tilted backwards. A maw of sharp black teeth opened wide, and he watched, astonished, as the mix of sugar and coffee oozed into their mouth and to who knows where. A long black tongue lashed out to get every last bit of sugar out of the cup, before the mouth closed with a quiet click. They must have felt him staring, because they turned to look at him with their fathomless, dark eyes. He stared back, wondering what the hell was actually sitting in front of him.

They then bounced in place and gave him a thumbs up. They made a shape of a heart with their hands, a way that they say ‘thank you’. They seemed rather happy.

“Um…you’re welcome?” He managed, after he gathered his composure again.

They sat still for a moment, seeming to ponder on what they had just consumed. He figured that they were probably trying to figure out if they liked it or not. He doubt they even managed to taste the coffee from the sheer amount of sugar in that cup.

Then, to his horror, they began to vibrate. At first it was a few twitches, and then it steadily became more and more severe, until they were a literal blur. The chair rattled under the stress and the bugs that remained in the shop turned to look at the commotion.

It was then, Lemm realized he fucked up.

They suddenly dashed away, slamming into the shop door with such force that it caved outwards. There was only the short sound of shattering glass and the scream of metal before it flew off it’s hinges and rattled down the hallway. He could hear the hurried pitter-patter of the wanderer’s tiny feet, now fast enough to blur into one continuous sound, race down the hall and out of sight and hearing.

He just stood there, looking at the wreckage of his shop door, wondering where the hell is he going to get a replacement, if there even was a replacement. He looked at the three shocked bugs, standing and looking at the wreckage, and then he got himself an idea.

“Hey fellas,” He said, as he turned and looked at the bugs next to the window. “How would you all like some free coffee if you find me a door?”

------------------------------- By @radical-mudkips

------------------------------- By @unregisteredcookie

Lemm's 'shop' was empty.

Actually, no, that… that wasn't right. Lemm's shop wasn't a shop in the first place--it was a haven for relics and ancient knick-knacks, and the shelves were filled to overflowing with stone tablets and peculiar eggs that held unimaginable information. Not that Lemm was ever able to crack into the eggs' shells, but he knew--he knew there was more treasured information sleeping beneath. If only he were able to open it up without risking that information being damaged.

And that wasn't right, either. The shop being empty, that was. Right now, the shelves were empty, but that was less because of the absence of relics and more because they were all stowed away in the back room to be sorted. He had a notebook he was combing over, quill in hand as he scribbled out little bits of information that might relate to one another.

'Might', because Lemm wasn't really from Hallownest. So he didn't know for sure whether this smooth L-shaped contraption was a door handle or a piece to a lost work of art.

It was while Lemm was scribbling about in this journal bound in parchment (hand-made and flimsy, using the paper he found around the area that was clean and allowed to dry) that he heard it: The distant clattering of the elevator. There were about seven options he could think of off of the top of his head, each more dreaded than the last. It could be that scarcely-seen Nailsmith who seemed to know more about the history of this ruin than he let on. It could be the peculiar little silent bug that stared up at him now and again, the one that sometimes passed by with a relic to sell. It could be that talkative windbag, droning on and on in his droning voice, so grating and persistent that Lemm struggled to ignore him. He was probably the worst.

Lemm stopped writing, tilted his head, and listened for the telltale sound. The rattling stopped, and all that he heard for a while was silence. And then.

Ding.

He sighed, getting to his feet. A customer it was, then. How delightful. Here's hoping that the customer wasn't 'Zote the Mighty'.

He had a small moment of dread when he saw the horn, a critical blow of dismay that tempted him to retreat back into the back room and pretend to be out for a walk, but then he saw the second horn and breathed a sigh of relief. Oh, it wasn't the Zote person after all. It was… them. The other little one.

They looked up at him as he approached the register and looked down at them. Their eyes were vacant as ever, face impossibly unreadable. Lemm doubted that he'd ever get used to it.

Lemm liked this little bug, if for no other reason than they were quiet, kept their hands to themself, and brought him relics to purchase. They were the only one willing to sell these relics, and they were the only reason Lemm often said what he said next.

"Cup of coffee, or looking to sell?"

He never had much company in this place until the Nailsmith (Lemm never caught his name, never bothered asking, really) first came in looking for materials for his smithing. Almost took one of Lemm's Pale Idols from under his beard while he was noting in his journal. After the initial yelling that followed and a cup of coffee, the Nailsmith apologized by paying for the cup. And he did it again. And again. Until the mapmaker came in, saw, and bought a cup himself. Until the hooded pillbug came in, hummed, and bought one for himself. And then--

Well. And then he had a coffee shop.

Lemm wished he could say that he hated it, and he did, at first. But over time, he found the company rather pleasant. Besides, the geo paid for this little bug's relic collection well enough, so he wasn't complaining.

So. Did they want a cup of coffee, or did they want to sell their relics? Lemm didn't get an answer. Instead, they looked around at the empty shelves for a moment before turning their empty eyes back onto him, tilting their head to the side slightly.

It took Lemm a moment.

"Oh, I moved the relics into the back room," he said. "I've been needing to work on sorting them out and writing notes about them. Never would I have thought that I would have so many to study."

Satisfied, they reached into the confines of their cloak. Lemm leaned forward a little, watching as they rummaged about for a moment, heart skipping a beat as he pondered what sort of relic they were going to sell this time.

And then they withdrew their small hand, reached up, and dropped a fist full of geo onto the counter.

Lemm blinked and stared at the geo for a moment. Something wispy and thin clung to them, and when he picked it up and opened the register, it was sticky. Was this webbing? Lemm wasn't aware of there being any spiders in Hallownest, aside from maybe that red-cloaked bug he saw very rarely flitting about outside his window.

So. No relics today. Fine, at least he'd have more money to buy another one later.

"One coffee coming up," he murmured, rummaging around behind the counter. Underneath the register was where he kept the coffee pot, which he refrained from moving just so he could be prepared if a 'customer' came by. He busied himself with it for a few moments, filling the filter and checking the water, before clicking the button and letting it steep. Granted, he didn't know what kind of coffee they'd drink, but they didn't make it clear anyway, so he doubted that it mattered.

Besides. They seemed a little preoccupied by something else at the moment. After a few minutes, the coffee was finished, and Lemm poured them a cup. He chose a caramel-like flavor, because they seemed about the size of a child and a little bit of sweetness never hurt anyone. Lemm reached over the counter and held it out to them, which they took in their hands and stared down at for a moment. Lemm was about ready to head back into the back when it happened. A crack. It almost sounded like something breaking, but when he turned to look behind himself at the small knight, they still stood there. Another crack, one that made his fur stand on end and his body stiffen, and Lemm caught the glimpse of something sharp and white shifting beneath the bottom of their mask.

A mouth?

They tilted their head back. A jaw opened. Many layers of teeth glimmered in the dim light, cracking as they did so, the noise chilling him through his chitin and making his hemolymph freeze. Lemm stood there, stock still, as they lifted the cup up to their face, jaw extending outwards to drink it, and then-- --they set the scalding hot coffee in their mouth, cup and all, closed it, and crunched.

Lemm had never seen a bug eat a cup of coffee before. He could still hear the crunch, crunch, crunching, muffled and quiet and growing quieter, noise sounding like a particularly crunchy tiktik being eaten.

Lemm shuddered. When the knight looked back at him, he turned around quickly and went into the back room.

Okay. Suddenly they weren't the second most welcome sight for sore eyes. Suddenly Lemm wished that it was that talking, yapping Zote fellow who came in instead.

------------------------------- By @doodle-chris

------------------------------- By @payasita

There was no shortage of open real estate as far as the City of Tears was concerned. But that certainly didn't make every option an equally viable living space.

First, Lemm wanted something enclosed away from the rain, and insulated enough to stave off the humidity. That discounted anything open to the outside, as he wouldn't risk his relics to even the threat of exposure. A leaking roof dripping down onto crumbling tablets or fragile spider silk could devastate hundreds of years worth of history, so that also discounted any room without a few protective floors above it.

Next, it had to be out of the way of any and all shambling husks and infected critters. They weren't the brightest of creatures, so a room only accessible by elevator was ideal. He'd never seen anything plague-cursed have enough wherewithal to operate one, and the noise of it would give him plenty warning of visitors otherwise.

Lastly, he wanted someplace with plenty of shelf space. He needed little in the way of actual living space, so long as he had ample storage room set up in such a way that things could easily be organized.

All of these qualities described, in his opinion, the ideal relic storage and research dwelling. And in the end, he was lucky enough to find it.

Unearthing the previous tenant's belongings informed him that it also, apparently, described the ideal setup for a small café. On his first day in his new residence, he'd uncovered an antique coffee machine and a few other ancient tools, kept miraculously free of rust and wear. The room's conditions must be far better than he thought.

He'd dusted his findings off and set them back up on the counter, having quickly deduced where they'd once been put to use through old nicks and rings left on the shellwood by years of service. Lemm had felt a small swell of pride at finding this small bit of the city's history, and began a set of notes on his theories about this tower complex and its surrounding culture from everything he found around. Perhaps the whole place had been a shopping centre.

On the second day, he pried open the crates in the back room, and they had spilled forth bags upon bags of beans and teas. There were so many of them that he was able to rationalize cutting one open and examining its contents without much guilt. The beans were coffee, that much was obvious at a glance.

Biological samples weren't exactly his area of expertise, but smell and texture alone all but convinced him that they'd been perfectly preserved in their airtight prisons, well dried and perfectly edible.

Most likely.

For the sake of research, and because the bag was already open, he put them through the machine. He committed some time to studying the machine beforehand, as he was afraid mishandling it may destroy it. But an hour of trying to figure the damn thing out was frustrating enough that he finally reasoned that if he did break it, he could at least take it apart and examine its insides for anything interesting. Lemm was a relic keeper, not a tinker. So he winged it with a bit of rainwater and the beans, and got wet beans and hot murky water all over the counter to show for it. He figured out the grinder and filter after his second attempt, and by the third, he had a mug of fresh coffee to show for his efforts. The scent that filled his shop and the outside corridor must have been nothing Hallownest had experienced in centuries. Lemm had little taste for the stuff himself, but in his experimentation he'd gone and made a whole pot. So he supposed he needed to acquire a taste for it rather quickly.

Luckily for his health, that turned out to be unnecessary. The smell, perhaps amplified in the ever-present petrichor, quickly attracted guests of the still-living variety. There turned out to be far more travelers and treasure hunters bumping around this old city than he'd initially expected, prone to tucking himself away in solitude as he was. Introverted or no, he happily gave the coffee away rather than waste it or risk giving himself a coronary. There were even a great deal of disposable mugs stacked away that just made it all the more convenient.

Just over the course of an hour, Lemm was graced with a fair amount of odd characters intruding on his doorstep. There was a surly fellow wielding a metal shield of some foreign make, who announced his intentions towards finding and conquering Hallownest's old colosseum. He was convinced it was still in operation somewhere. Lemm decided that if it was, the place was more than likely not populated with the sorts of honorable warriors this poor bastard was looking to prove himself against, but he kept his thoughts to himself and sent the boy off with a steaming cup of acrid bean water. Next came another traveller who gave off a more scholarly air than the first had, and who carried a more conventional weapon at his hip. The pill bug certainly acted more like a student than a warrior, all bright-eyed and curious and talkative. But no doubt he must know how to use that nail of his to have survived this far down and still be so cheerful. His stay wasn't entirely unpleasant; the two actually talked a short while about Hallownest's history and their shared learnings. The bug even tried to insist on paying, but Lemm was adamant that his reliquary wasn't a damn breakfast nook, thank you, keep your geo. But if he really wanted to pay, Lemm would certainly take any interesting artifact or trinket the bug happened to pick up on his travels. They eventually came to an agreement: A journal pilfered from a shrine somewhere in Greenpath for an extra cup for the road. Lemm's next visitor was, of all things, a cartographer. This one was far too involved in his work for much conversation, which was fine by Lemm. But he did manage to barter a cup for a map of the city. It was incomplete and bare of any landmarks, much to Lemm's disappointment. Finally, an odd little wanderer walked in almost soundlessly. They did not speak to Lemm, nor did they give any indication that they were here for any specific reason. But they had acquired an old city crest and a King's idol on their path, and Lemm had a more typical exchange of geo for relics with them. And then because it was the last of the coffee in the still warm pot, and because the little wanderer did not refuse, he sent them off with a cup on their way out. Thankful to be rid of all the blasted coffee and done with the uptick in social interaction, he then washed the pot and continued with his normal studies. It was nice and quiet, now.

But then the next morning, the pill bug returned. And he was surprised (and clearly disappointed) to see the coffee pot empty. It was a shame, he'd said. For he'd gone and found himself another journal, and considered a relic he couldn't use for a hot morning's drink to be a fine deal indeed. Lemm was inclined to agree, for how it saved him his geo in case of a more potentially significant find down the line. He turned the machine back on at once at the prospect. Unfortunately, he didn't know how to brew just one cup, and was still rightfully intimidated by the old, fussy contraption, and not inclined to mess with what worked. So he made another full pot, and talked shop.

The pill bug wasn't the only one to return that day. The would-be gladiator came back, still not having found his destination, and had the gall to just expect another drink. After the deal he'd just made, Lemm was feeling markedly less generous than he had been the day before, and informed his nasally guest that he'd have to barter something old and interesting for it.

The ant grumbled and left, but returned a few minutes later with a guardsman's crest. He'd apparently seen old treasures all over the place, but had found it beneath him to go and pick them up." A warrior has no need to weigh himself down with baubles," he'd sneered over his cup. Lemm privately thought that the plague-crazed beasts who were doubtlessly running the colosseum now would soon show this haughty kid what they cared for his warrior’s creed in due time, so he said nothing.

The silent wanderer came later. This time when they held up an ancient journal, they made no move to take the geo held out to them. They only stared at Lemm, with their little mask so perfectly unmoving he could easily think them a sudden corpse. Then his hand drifted towards the pot, and the creature set the journal down on the counter.

"...News of a relic keeper bartering goods for coffee has already spread among your lot, then? I suppose even wanderers must have a rumor mill," Lemm talked to himself while pouring their cup. Predictably, they padded away without an answer, drink in hand. Lemm would soon learn how right he was.

- The coming days were more lucrative than his business had ever been. All the travellers he'd met before all came back with various oddities found around Hallownest, as did anyone new. Though not everyone quite understood what constituted a relic, and Lemm had to turn down more than a few shiny rocks and petrified lake detritus. But they all got the routine down soon enough. And, well, Lemm did have an extraordinary amount of coffee that'd just go to waste for another thousand years otherwise, so, may as well.

The pill bug, Quirrel, came to be his best "customer", though Lemm would be twice damned before he ever said the word aloud. Either way, Quirrel often stayed long enough just chatting to warrant a second cup.

"I ought to have you bring double the treasure," Lemm griped once while handing that second cup over. Quirrel's response was a good natured laugh.

"Perhaps elsewhere, that'd be fair. Coffee was a luxury in some lands, and remains so to this day, but by my understanding it was quite in abundance here. Though I couldn't tell you where in the world they must have been growing it," he mused. Lemm raised a brow, wondering once again where in gods' names this bug was educated. But as asking would be an invitation to hear his life story, Lemm deferred.

"Is that right?" he asked instead, "I don't care for the stuff myself, luxury or no." "Really? Not an uncommon opinion, I suppose. I picked it up as a habit at one point... Though, I couldn't tell you when, now that I think of it," Quirrel trailed off, adjusting the oversized mask over his head. Lemm found it an odd choice of protection from the rain, though he supposed it was better than nothing. He only shrugged, "I hear many students do make a habit of caffeine. Your sorts can never get enough hours out of the day."

Quirrel stared at him for a brief moment, and then huffed a laugh again. "Student? You mistake me, sir. I've only ever been a traveller for as long as I can remember."

Lemm didn't bother to mask his surprise, and Quirrel's eyes crinkled. "You're right on that second part, though. So much to see, and never enough time." He took a sip.

The mapmaker came back one day with an order for two drinks. He had no relics, but offered an extra inkwell and quill instead. Lemm found equipment for keeping good notes was lucky to come by, and reluctantly made the trade, much to the old bug's gratitude.

"Thank you, the second is for my wife running our shop surface-side. It was her suggestion you might want materials for your research."

Lemm cleared his throat, blustering slightly under his beard.

"Ahh. Hm. I can appreciate that, then."

"Oh, on that note, have you any sugar you can add in for her?" The bug peered over Lemm’s shoulder, which rankled him for some reason.

"...I did find a jar back here somewhere, I think." Though he couldn't promise it was good. Could sugar go bad? It still just looked like white sand.

"Thank you. ...Err, actually, is that a box of tea on the shelf, there?"

Lemm paused in his rummaging, and looked back at the open storeroom door. The room now made a good home for his relics, though he never bothered unpacking the open crates.

"...It is," he eyed the bug neutrally.

"Ah. Iselda enjoys her coffee, though I quite prefer a good cup of tea myself. ...Erm, if it isn't too much trouble, of course," the bug grinned politely over folded hands.

Lemm, to his credit, did not sigh. There was indeed a kettle back there, too. And at least he knew how to brew tea without making an entire day's worth of it.

He brought up the jar of sugar, and leveled the bug with a grumpy look.

"Fine. But next time, you bring relics."

The cartographer acquiesced immediately, and that was the point where Lemm realized he'd invited them both to expect a "next time".

The silent wanderer came back again, on the tail of a group of treasure hunters who came in and left up the elevator. Shortly after, there was the sound of struggle above them.

This had become commonplace. Anyone who showed up had to contend with the violent husks above and beyond the shop, and some were more prepared to deal with the dangers of Hallownest than others. Lemm only poured the wanderer's cup in bored silence, tuning out the thumping and shouts above. "You know this stuff stunts your growth, right?" Lemm asked flatly. The wanderer only ever stared.

"Dehydrates you, too. You active types probably ought to stick to water. Imagine having to deal with the horrors of rotting sentries and whatnot with a diuretic sloshing about in you." Unbothered, they leaned forward and took their cup in both hands, still staring up while he spoke. Lemm honestly had no idea if they even understood him, and considered the possibility that their muteness was compounded by a language barrier. But they at least always made the effort to appear attentive.

There was a thundering crash above them that made Lemm flinch, and then a silence that kept him tense. The voices started up once again after a few seconds, and the sound of footsteps hurrying away as fast as they could. By his guess, his last customers had just had a very close encounter with a belfly. He'd likely not be seeing them again.

He turned his attention back down to the wanderer with a sigh.

"...Let me see what you have, then."

The tiny thing set their cup carefully down by their feet, and fished a genuine void egg from the depths of their grubby cloak. Lemm was struck with the brief impulse to give them the entire coffee machine for it.

There was a new visitor one morning, just as Lemm brewed the pot for his regulars. He rarely got anyone so very early, and was guiltily nursing his own cup of acrid sugary heart disease before anyone would be around to see. Alright, so he'd acquired the taste for it. It was hardly unreasonable with how much time he spent around the smell, and it helped him make up for lost time studying his relics later in the night. Perfectly understandable, and so he definitely did not freeze mid sip like he was caught in a crime when the door opened unexpectedly. The red-clad stranger who walked in wore a wicked-sharp needle slung across her back, and fixed him with an even sharper gaze.

"...I hear you sell tea." Her voice was quiet enough, but cut clear without the normal hesitant lilt of a question.

Lemm slowly put down his mug, and the soft thunk it made against the countertop sounded awfully loud in the morning lull.

"...I don't sell anything. I buy," he insisted.

The altogether frightening lass glanced between him, the full coffee pot, and the kettle sat next to a stack of assorted loose leaf teas. Then back at him.

He grunted, hiding an inane flush of indignation behind another swig of his drink.

"...I seek artifacts. Relics of this place's past, and anything that may help me understand it, for geo. ...Or for a cuppa, for those who'd rather." He shifted behind the counter, nearly trailing off into a mumble. But at this point, there wasn’t much use in fighting his reputation.

The girl just scrutinized him until she seemed to come to a decision. She then turned and left without saying anything else, opting to hop down the elevator shaft rather than waste a moment calling the lift.

Lemm rolled his eyes and gulped down the dregs of his coffee, vaguely annoyed. By this point, he was used to the rude and half feral sorts of vagabonds that only came by out of curiosity. At least she was quick about leaving.

All the better for him, as far as he was concerned. He doubted such a young thing would have anything of note to share with Hallownest's foremost historian.

#telephoneknight #hollowknight #hollow knight #RelicCoffeeAu #lemm #tiso #ghost #quirrel

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