#so my niece tells people i’m a witch

[jegulusofwesper]

i still think one of the funniest things that happened to younger me (who grew up catholic) was starting to pray to apollo to help me with my music gcse. like im on about i was DEDICATED to it and this fucker would quiz me on music theory in my sleep (tbh i fucking SUCKED at music theory because my teacher expected us to know it without teaching us).

it then came time for me to submit my comp/ have my teacher send it off but he didn’t like it so he deleted it and this comp was 70% of my grade plus i’d been working on it for 3 years. i cried to apollo about it and the next day he (teacher) suddenly had an illness that he couldn’t shift for the rest of the year and the doctors couldn’t find anything wrong with him other than an “intense common cold”

he also used to stare at my tits rather than my face when he spoke to me so apollo had to listen to me rant about that too

[newyearseve1979]

Cool Niece, Cooler Aunt

Or, Lilia and Alice spend some time together.

Content warnings, brief mentions of death and grief, allusions and mentions of malicious drug use. It’s pretty tame, generally

Lilia stared at the boiling teapot. The stove glowed gently under it, the sun lit up its shiny metal surface, but the water itself seemed unchangeable. If her stare bore into the kettle hard enough, the water would boil faster (or something like that.) “You could just use magic,” Alice said, leaning against the kitchen counter. Her hair was still messy from sleep and the orangish red streaks in her hair definitely needed re-done. She had an old Le Tigre band shirt on. Lilia vaguely remembered going to one of their concerts.

“It's the little routines that keep a girl together,” Lilia shrugged.

Alice nodded, smiling. She could appreciate the sentiment.

Lilia’s own robe was burnt orange and one of softest things she owned. Sun streamed through the window, lighting up the spacious kitchen. It was a far cry from her old apartment, Lilia knew, and she wouldn't have been able to afford it without the rest of the witches. After the road, after she’d fallen, she’d been stuck in a weird kind of Limbo. Alice had been there too, but that's all they could remember. Turns out the road had been made up so they didn't really die, even though Rio has still arrived to take them to that little inbetween world. Lilia didn't want to think too hard on that, because they’d gotten out when Jen completed her trial. What mattered was that she and her fuck ass coven (as described by Lilia herself) had bought a house together, roughly an hour’s drive out of East View, in the woods. It was close enough to other people for the working witches to keep up with their lives, and far enough away for Agatha to… what was she up to again? While the two waking witches assumed everyone else was asleep, Agatha had already gone out for a walk in the woods before the sun rose.

The teapot whistled, and Lilia took it off the stove. Alice had already set out two mugs and the honey pot. The house was quiet. Lilia and Alice were the only ones in the kitchen, and since it was a Sunday, no one had work. Not that there was much to do; Jennifer’s business was largely remote until she felt like returning to her shop, and Alice was still on the job hunt. Agatha was… well Lilia didn't need to touch that until she felt like it.

The quiet was interrupted by the music Alice had switched on. Bikini Kill, Lilia recognized it, Reject all America. “Good band,” she said, turning off the stove and mixing honey into her cup. Alice only looked slightly surprised. “I saw them live a few times.”

To Alice’s credit, she didn't let her jaw fall all the way down. “You Lilia? Really?”

Lilia smiled to herself. “Oh yeah,” she pointed at Alice’s shirt, “them too.”

“You’re kidding!”

“I’m not!” Lilia insisted, amused. She hugged her soft rope close, and sipped on her tea. Riot Grrrl had attracted plenty of witches in her area, and yeah, Lilia had been pretty into it. Alice shook her head, still smiling.

“I'm trying to picture you at a punk concert.”

Lilia rolled her eyes. She thought about a time when she’d straightened her hair and her old thrifted jacket. “Get me that leather jacket of yours, doll,” She smiled. Memories of stitching protection runes into the inside of her jacket came back to her. “I'll try it on and that’ll give you a pretty good picture.”

Alice gave Lilia a once over. Her robe was snug and secure, her curly hair was piled on her head, and an amulet hung from her neck. Lilia looked like a classy broadway star, not a Riot Grrrl fan. Still, she could almost picture it. Lilia with a shaggy haircut, leather jacket, and punk shirts, cursing out some moron. “Come on, don't tell me you think I'm too old,” Lilia huffed, half kidding.

Alice waved her off. “I’d sneak into concerts when I was younger. My um, well you know my mom died when I was thirteen? I wanna say that was the same time the movement was getting traction.”

Lilia nodded. “The years blended together for me after a bit. All my big losses happened -oh god- forever ago.” She finished her tea and put the cup in the sink. “How long did you keep up with it?”

Alice hummed, and hugged herself. “Till college. It kind of fell off a bit after I graduated you know? But freshman year was intense. I dated this girl who I thought was big into Team Dresch, so we’d gone to a few concerts. Turns out she’d been more into the story about my mom. That wasn't the whole reason we stopped going out though. But the movement had been this part of my life, in a massive way after mom died. She’d made sure music was always important to my life. I needed away from the magic shit, and it was a good place to be angry. I really needed to be angry; you know I stayed that way for a long time.

But after a few years, when I'd put in my old cd’s and records all I could think of was how… upset I was as a teenager. You know I didn’t deal with my grief until recently, so, I guess that’s something else. ” Lilia watched Alice, nodding at the right times. She definitely knew. She wasn't about to forget Alice’s trial on the road, or what she’d said later.

“Sad is better than angry.”

Alice’s head was tilted down, but Lilia saw her eyes getting misty. She moved over to Alice’s side of the kitchen. She put a hand on her shoulder. “I got back into it recently,” Alice added, "the music. It's way easier to find the old music on the internet, especially when Jen pays for my subscription.” Lilia knew what she meant; she was also on the plan.

“Well I don't know how to tell you this, but punk attracts all kinds of outcasts, witches included. Even if they tended to uplift white middle class girls over other groups.” Lilia patted Alice’s arm before stepping back again. “Trust me doll, you were where you needed to be.” The speaker had switched over to Dyke March by Le Tigre. Their singer was the same one from Bikini Kill. “I met her once,” Lilia mused, tapping on the speaker,“Kathleen Hanna.”

Alice wiped at her face. It was early enough that she hadn't put on her usual makeup yet. “Yeah? Do you think she remembers you?”

She chuckled. “No, probably not. But I know she’s touring right now with Bikini Kill again.”

“I saw that.”

Lilia didn't hesitate. “We should go see them. Tonight. They’ve got Eastview stadium for the week, and it's cheapest tonight.”

“Lilia Calderu is inviting me to a punk concert?”

“Lilia Calder is offended at this disbelief,” Lilia huffed, “you know twenty years ago I was getting more comments about my age when I was getting pins and patches than I bet your thirteen year old ass was. Compared to me, you’re practically a child. I should be asking if it's past your bedtime.”

Alice swatted Lilia’s arm. “You’ve been around Harkness too much.” Lilia shrugged. The pair made plans to go to a punk concert once the sun went down.

That evening, Lilia went through the boxes in her room that she still hadn't unpacked. “I know where it all is, there's no point in reorganizing!” She’d say, but it was really because part of her still wasn't certain the roommate situation would last. Either way, she found some dark, flowy clothes that were probably more Stevie Nicks than anything, but honestly, who was going to care. Lilia dug around for a few protection rings; the ones she always took, and the few extras she took to this kind of scene because she’d been around long enough to see some messed up shit.

A vision flashed to Lilia. Crowded room, packed venue. Sweaty bodies pushing her around. Someone yelling, Piss off Lilia! And harsh hands jerking her to the side. Too loud, too loud, too loud, so loud that it blurred her vision. She swayed. She dropped her drink; the mussels in her hand betrayed her. Was it the crowd or was it- no shit shit not again. When is this? Last time-

“Lilia!” Soft hands shook her gently, and Lilia put her own up in self defense, pushing back against a pink clad body. Soft hands held her in place as she pushed, letting Lilia have something to physically resist.. She found herself sitting, then, black skirts piling around her, grey curls falling in front of her face. Lilia was coming back to herself when Jen said her name again. “Hey? Kooky?” Lila looked around. She'd knocked over the box she’d been rifling through. Bobbles scattered around the floor, thrown about like whatever timeline was trying to speak to Lilia. Alice stood in the doorway. Lilia’s brow produced little beads of sweat as she tried to determine if she’d visited a vision or a memory. Jen nudged her again. “Lilia?”

Lilia shrugged Jen off. She rubbed her temple. “I just…”

“You went away for a minute,” Jen nodded. She tilted her head, with a rare Kale smile. “Anywhere good?” Definitely not.

Lilia chuckled dryly, using Jen to help her to her feet. “Somewhere loud.” She looked over at Alice. “You look… concert ready.” She nodded approvingly. Alice’s orange streaks had been re-dyed, with the help of Jen earlier that day. Her outfit was pretty close to what she wore the first time Lilia had met her. Only this time, it was a slightly different jacket with a list of different feminist punk bands painted onto the back. Her makeup was a bit bigger too. She tossed Lilia a pair of ear plugs.

“We’re good to head out in ten?”

“Give me twenty,” Lilia said. It wasn't a question. Alice nodded and went back downstairs. Jen smoothed out the shirt on Lilia’s shoulders. Then she went over and sat on Lilia’s bed. Lilia settled herself into a plush chair she’d picked up back in Vienna, right in front of her mirror.

“Where did you go this time?” Jen asked when Lilia didn't ask her to leave.

Lilia pursed her lips. “A concert.” She flexed her hands in front of her face. They did not fail her as she applied lipstick and mascara, or when she clasped talismans around her neck and wrists. They would not fail her again, and they hadn’t that night. It had been a close call, Lilia remembered, but that's all. She didn't tell Jen and Jen didn’t push. Oddly, she’d stopped pushing since the trial. But she had started watching Lilia. She’d stay in the same room a little longer, stay up a little later, all little things Lilia noticed, but wouldn't ask about yet. What right did she have to anyway, to tell her to leave. Not after she sent Jen down the road without her, and Lilia knew that.

Alice had the car running and music already playing. “What’s this?” Lilia asked as she slid into the passenger seat.

“Mommy Long-Legs,” Alice smiled. They pulled out of the wider part of the driveway and started down the road that wasn't necessarily a private road, but might as well have been because of how long it was, and the fact that there were only two houses on it, both perfectly crafted for woodland semi-isolation. As far as Lilia knew, their neighboring building was largely uninhabited. She’d never seen it though, as it was hidden so far back that the trees blended together into black before you could hope to see a house.

“What else do you listen to?” Alice asked, breaking Lilia from her thoughts.

Lilia hummed. “Jazz, older Italian songs, but seventies and eighties rock was a pretty good time for music too, I suppose. Stevie Nicks is wonderful.”

“Mom performed with her and Fleetwood Mac.”

“Oh?”

“Mhm. I was pretty young, but I remembered it being a huge deal.”

“I remember that,” Lilia reminisced, “that was a good show.”

They got themselves out of the woods and started driving along a series of fields. Houses slowly started showing up, becoming closer and more clustered the longer they drove. The lights of civilization began to shine down on them, and suddenly the road was a bit less empty. When they made it into Eastview, approaching the venue, Lilia could start to guess who was on their way to the concert. She smiled-

Fuck off Lilia! She’s pushed to her knees, or has she fallen on her own. Help! Who needed help! The picture is fuzzy. Wrong. It’s not as clear as it should be. She’s inebriated. No, she's… she’s…

Her body slumps down, and before she can catch herself, Lilia hits her head off the dashboard. She curses herself, looks at Alice who drives calmly, and sits back up in her seat. “Um,” Alice starts slowly. She turns into a parking spot and shuts off the music. “Are you�� back?”

Lilia looks at Alice, searching. Who’s voice had told her to- “Say something,” Lilia said.

“Something? Lilia are you ok? Do I need to call Jen or…?”

Lilia’s eyes narrowed. “I don’t need a babysitter, baby. I’m fine.” But she wasn’t fine. Time was not linear and she was actively jumping around. She couldn't hold herself, couldn't find where she needed to be like she had on the road. She looked at Alice. She needed to ask for help. She needed her sisters for the craft.

“I dont…” Alice bit her lip, “I don’t know how to help you.”

“Well I'm sure that's really hard for you,” she snapped. She rubbed her temples. In the vision… she couldn't get a grip on reality. It was like something was infecting her.

“I’m not taking your shit old woman,” Alice snapped right back, not missing a beat. Lilia barked out a humorless laugh. She nodded approvingly. It confused Alice.

“You’re into punk, right doll? Right. So why the hell are you a cop?” She gave Alice a hard stare. Alice didn't flinch, but regarded Lilia with suspicion. “I’m not, ok, that sounded judgemental. It was.”

“I wanted-”

“To help people? That wasn't intuition, that's common sense. The Protection Witch wants to protect people. So why not get into security? And don't give me that mall security bullshit, that wasn't your choice.” Lilia had successfully deflected back onto Alice. For now. Divine Mother, she really was spending too much time around Agatha. That thought made her shiver, so she softened. “You could be anything, baby,” She reached over for Alice’s hands, “embrace it.”

“Oh fuck off Lilia,” Alice groaned, “fuck that. I’m glad you had your enlightenment moment on the road, but you’re not ok!You still haven't even told me what happened after I died, so unlike Jen, I still don't have a damn clue what's wrong with you! And that's fine! But how am I supposed to protect you?”

“Don't protect me then!” Lilia shouted, “Protect yourself, baby! I’m not senile, I don't-”

“Need a babysitter! I know! You’ve fucking said Lilia, youve fucking said.” Alice slammed her hand down on the horn of the parked car. A group of punk girls, in their early teens, late twenties, cheered. “You’re smart and you can take care of yourself because you've been doing it for centuries. You and everyone else in the house, ok, I've got it. No one taught me how to be a witch. I never made a habit of spending time with women literally centuries older than me.” Her eyes welled up with tears, even as her face contorted back to the familiar anger she’d lived with for so long.

Her mother holds her hand, showing her how to spread the tarot cards. How to read people like reading cards. She will see her mother’s death, and her mother may not see the truth in it. “Please Mama, please won't you listen? Let me help, let me help,” and then in the dark of the night after vision after vision-

“Just let me help you! Don't leave me alone!” Lilia cries out, her hands flying to her hair and pulling her curls out of place, like she’d done as a girl. She shakes as her lungs try to puncture themselves on her ribs, expanding against the shell of her body. She looks back to Alice, ashamed. “That wasn't,” she started, “that wasn't for you.”

Alice nodded. She had unbuckled her seatbelt and was sitting against the inside of the door, her feet pulled up to her knees. Her head was tilted on her arms like they had been at the campfire on the witches road. Alice wasnt smiling though, she was waiting. Lilia handed her a ring to fidget with.

“My mother,” Lilia confessed quietly, “well. I lost her too. I couldn't protect her.” Lilia glances at herself in the side mirror. Her hair had been pulled into disarray. Her makeup should just be wiped off at that point. “I do not want to talk about it. Jen knows. But I knew it would happen, and I couldn't stop it, and I was alone and no one wants to be around a woman who sees their deaths-” her voice cracked, “so I was run out of everywhere. I apologize if I don’t know how to fix you, doll-”

“So don't try to fix me,” Alice said. She started out firm, then paused. She reached over for Lilia’s hand. Lilia took it- hesitantly. “Don’t try to fix, try to help. Advise. Ok?”

Lilia nodded. She pulled the curls out of her face and readjusted the neck of her shirt., fixing her posture. “And you don't need to protect me… just, oh Divine mother, just, support me. Sometimes.”

Alice nodded. A silent agreement passed between them. They did not, in fact, hug it out. They didn't go to the concert, either. With a peace made between them, Lilia saw a worse future. Her abilities were not deteriorating, she was visiting a time where she was drugged. Roofied. After Alice would tell her to fuck off, again, the protection witch would be separated from her. Neither would reach for their powers in time, because they would both be incapacitated. So instead, they went to an old vinyl shop. They left with some Grateful Dead, Billy Joel, and Alice turned Lilia onto the Crane Wives.

The shop owner, an older man, didn't peg them as mother and daughter, like his assistant had asked Lilia. Of course, Lilia said no. The shop owner, who knew and sensed more than his young apprentice, immediately saw them as Cool Niece, Cooler Aunt.

Sisters of the craft. He charged them extra.

They had yet to really understand each other, but certainly, they were getting there.

[iridescentttears]

my thoughts on the deal with the toxic ex thing we’ve got going on from a late night noncoherent ramble hot take:

the whole billford shipping is so fascinatingly heinous and foul and complex and infuriating and interesting that i certainly can’t look away and i’m intrigued by seeing more of the billford sexy kinky shipping, like that’s not the right word for it but u get it. and i won’t be mad when i see it again but i will slightly shake my head disapprovingly because i know that no iteration of billford is in any ways healthy.

and as someone who’s been through DV and emotional abuse situations it’s kinda odd to me that ppl are making serious and silly takes on, oh no they’re fucking n sucking, they’re kinky af. (and i know that’s an oversimplification on that regard as well but just like for the point of this i think you get what i mean— like it’s in my hc that they hooked up after karaoke and maybe for a while after that it was like a partnersitustionship and in the year of our good lord and savior casual by chappell roan it’s a perfect addition to the lore timing wise)

but also it’s like, no they’re in an unfair power dynamic. sure they each come to it with unique sets of trauma and experience. but one participant is way older way “smarter” way more manipulative and to me there’s no way for that to be sexy. it just leaves a bad taste in my mouth.

i also, from experience was filled with an overwhelming sense of peace and relief at the end of the book of bill when ford lets his family into his world, into his inner trauma, and they embrace him. they tell him that he’s not stupid or weak for being a victim of abuse they tell him that bill is a fucking loser! and he is. and the ppl who hurt me were fucking losers and so is every person who hurts people!! and having that moment when he was surrounded by their love, and he no longer felt shame and guilt from what happened in his past— that moment right there is what made the book something i will cherish. that’s a moment in the book where i out loud had a moment where i was like yes, this right here is the heart of what this is all about what gravity falls is at its core level.

like journal 1 taught me that i could embrace being weird and in the end i’ll turn out all right. the book of bill missing journal pages taught me that even tho ive had some shit happen to me and it’s changed who i am and how i see the world, i am more than a victim and if i allow myself to trust the ppl i love and let in the light, my past will not consume me and does not have to continue to be a part of my story. i can dance around in the woods with my niece and mock a triangle statue while wearing witch hats. i can grieve and move on and a lot of that is my internal work with myself like ford with himself, but its not done all alone, when you have love around you in your friends, in your chosen family whether they be by birth or not, that’s how you really learn to let it all go.

so in a way it’s really fucked up, the ship that is, but again i’m not mad at anyone who ships it. i’m sure you all have very different perspectives and thought and reasons that are totally valid, this is just how i feel from my perspective! i will continue to enjoy all the billford edits and fanart that comes across my page. i especially love anything to do with the breakup/divorce/ fiddleford, bill, ford love triangle angle. i love that shit

this is favorite thing on the internet rn:

@ raycipher2 on tiktok i think is the creator of this delightful viral sensation!

so i took a detour rant there, oops word vomit am i right?

if u read all this pls tell me if this makes any sense lmao

[hannahbarberra162]

Not My Monkey, Chapter 3

on Ao3

All the other chapters

Luffy demands entertainment, you demand to do the dishes, Brook asks for a performance.

Songs mentioned:

I'm Sticking With You

Somewhere Over the Rainbow

“You’re so squishy!” Luffy said, wrapping his arms around you multiple times. It was still unnerving to see the kid stretch like that, much less hug you like a rubber band wound several times around you. He had his head pushed against your boobs, the rest of him hugging you like he was a koala. It was late at night, most of the crew had already gone to bed. You were tired but had nervous energy, you wanted to stay up a little longer. You were sitting on the grass of the tangerine grove, not far from the helmsman. Watching him gracefully maneuver the ship was relaxing and taking your mind off of your worries. He was very zen in some ways, and you hoped his chill would rub off on you.

“Thanks,” you deadpanned. You were used to it, your nieces sometimes told you similar sentiments. But they were children, not captains of pirate ships. You didn’t try to pry him off for now, he could hang on you.

“You’re like a pillow all over!” You gave a half hearted eye roll to the Captain’s statement. Apparently Luffy picked up on your irritation. “What? It’s not a bad thing, why are you mad?”

“I’m not mad, it’s just a weird thing to hear,” you stated. You felt out of place when all these people were so muscled and toned. You walked a lot, sure, but they looked like they trained in the gym non stop. Even Luffy didn’t have much fat on him, despite the amount you saw him eat at dinner. You had a feeling that despite their appearances, Brook and Chopper could hold their own too.

“Well I don’t care. I’m gonna hug you as much as I want.” You scoffed at Luffy's words. How self centered, you thought. But based on what you’d seen of the kid, he was always like this.

“As much as you want? What if I don’t want to hug?” you replied. You wanted to see what the kid would do, if he’d push your boundaries.

“You don’t?!” Luffy gave you the biggest, saddest puppy eyes you’d ever seen as his arms unraveled from your torso. Someone taught the kid well. That or he knew his strengths.

“Nah, it’s ok kid, you can hug me.” He was too cute to say no to. He beamed at you, arms tightening once more like a boa constrictor. 

“Tell me a story from your world,” Luffy demanded. 

“A story? Sorry, I really don’t know the story of this-”

“No, not One Piece, sometimes the readers know other stories. I’ve heard about Goku, Naruto, Yuji, Eren, Izuku, Jojo, Inu Yasha, lots of ‘em. I like those ones, especially Goku. I wish I could fight him in real life. Maybe he could be reader-ed into my world next, you think?”

Based on the names, you thought they all sounded like anime stories. “Ah, I’m not familiar with those, sorry. I’m not really into those kinds of things. I know some other stories though. Uh, hold on, lemme think.” You paused for a moment, trying to think of a story to tell Luffy. You didn't mind entertaining the Captain, he reminded you of your nieces in some ways. You’d been telling your nieces stories when you put them to bed, but they were mostly wish fulfillment about how they would get to go to Elsa’s ice castle or a party under the sea with Ariel, things like that. The last movie you’d watched with them was the Wizard of Oz, which you showed them to get out of watching Frozen for the 487th time in a row.

“Ok, I think I got one. Have you heard of Dorothy and the Wizard of Oz?” 

“Nuh uh,” Luffy said, shaking his head quickly from side to side, “I wanna hear it.” He seemed already enraptured and you hadn’t even begun telling the story. 

So you sat on the deck, kept warm by Luffy entangled around you, and told him the beginning of the story of Dorothy and her friends. You told him about Kansas and Dororthy and Miss Gultch, about Glinda the Good Witch, the ruby red slippers, and the yellow brick road. You even sang the songs you could remember, doing them in silly voices if you could. Luffy laughed at your singing and made you sing the Munchkinland songs three times before you could move on. He paid rapt attention to you as you recalled the story of Dorothy and her trials and tribulations in Oz. After you recounted how she met the Scarecrow and his missing brain, you started yawning.

“Alright, Luffy. That’s enough for tonight. I got tired, I’m gonna go to bed.” You gave him a final hug and started to push him off you.

“No! But Dorothy just made a friend! And she hasn’t met the wizard! I need to know what happens next!” Luffy was highly invested in Dorothy’s adventure, but you yawned again.

“I guess you’ll find out tomorrow,” you replied. “I can tell you more of the story tomorrow night, I’m too tired right now.” Luffy frowned but nodded, arms unraveling.

“Jinbe, do you wanna hear it too?” Luffy yelled to the helmsman. In your effort to entertain Luffy, you’d forgotten he was there. 

“I do, it is interesting,” Jinbe replied. “I like it more than some of the adventure tales readers have shared before. Especially the songs.” You blushed, which you hoped was hidden by the night. You felt like Jinbe was your middle school crush and you’d been assigned a group project together, giddy just to be near him even if it wasn't by your design.

“Alright,” you agreed, “we can meet tomorrow and find out what happens to our heroine. Good night, Jinbe. Good night, Luffy.” You gave the kid a kiss on the top of his head and headed off to the women’s quarters. You distantly heard Luffy saying something and Jinbe laughing. You tucked yourself into the little cot between Nami and Robin’s beds, covered yourself with the ratty blanket, and fell asleep almost instantly.

~

In one of the many many documentaries you’d watched over the years, you learned that some birds would sleep for a set number of hours, sleeping until they had their fill. Others would wake up at the same time every day, no matter what the circumstances were. Unfortunately for you, you were like one of the latter. You woke up in what you assumed was the early morning, Nami and Robin still asleep in the pre-dawn hour. Tip toeing out of the room, you weren’t sure where to go. The deck would be cold and you were still in your original clothes you were brought in. At your salon, the requirements were only that it had to be all black, so you were wearing black jeggings and a black long sleeve shirt. You slowly walked the hall, trying to think of where to go. As you passed the galley, you saw the lights in the kitchen were already on.

Going to the galley, you hoped to get a cup of coffee and sit in silence before your brain fully turned on. Opening the door, Sanji was prepping food for some upcoming meal while also baking some kind of breakfast treat. 

“Good morning, Sanji,” you yawned out, going to sit at the dining table.

“Good morning dearest Misty-san. Isn’t it a bit early for you to be up? Why don’t you go back to bed and I’ll gently wake you with the rest of the ladies?” You didn’t want to deal with his stupid chivalrous bullshit right now.

“Unfortunately I’m always up at this time, just how I am. Does this world have coffee?”

“Yes, it does, but -”

“Thank FUCK,” you exclaimed, sagging against the wooden bench in relief.

“- but we don’t have any right now. We’re all out, I sincerely apologize,” the blond chef lamented. You closed your eyes momentarily, holding off on cussing out the chef. It wasn’t his fault, but you’d been having coffee since you were 12. You hadn’t missed a day since…ever. 

“Do you have black tea?” you asked, trying to conceal your eye twitch. Maybe if you drank a gallon it would help stop your headache from coming.

“We do, along with several other varieties. I’ll bring you a selection.” Sanji was so courteous it was hard to be annoyed. You held in your huff of irritation, he was trying.

“I’ll get some coffee at the next island. I’ll adjust the budget, which means less meat for Luffy…” Sanji said to himself, probably calculating costs.

“I mean, I can probably make money pretty easy. But don’t you guys just, y’know…steal it?” you asked, gesturing vaguely with a sword slashing motion.

“Steal it? From whom?” Sanji was surprised at your words, he looked almost offended.

“Sorry, I don’t mean to upset you, it’s just that you’re pirates, right? So don’t you like, steal money? Jewels, gems, treasure, that sort of thing? Pillage and loot?” Sanji smiled, apparently not upset with you.

“Not this crew. We find treasure, or grateful people will give us money, but that’s about it. We don’t steal or murder. Not Luffy’s style.” Ah, they were moral pirates. You’d ask Luffy more about it later after you’d had at least 200mg of caffeine.

“What do you mean, you can make easy money?” Sanji asked, referring to your earlier question. 

“You and I have the ability to make money anywhere. Hair and food don’t change from place to place. People need haircuts and people need to eat. You obviously work a lot, I’m sure you want a break, but I can do a pop-up salon. Charge whatever the going rate is, make some cash,” you mused aloud. Pop-ups weren’t your favorite, but it would make money quickly. And you needed coffee, it wasn’t an option. Sanji brought you a mug of hot water and a variety of tea. Looking through them, you made a cup of Earl Gray, hoping it would help. 

“Just leave the dishes in the sink, I’ll get to ‘em in a little bit. I need to be two cups in before I really start moving,” you told Sanji, who had already resumed his chopping. It was pleasant in the kitchen, warm and cozy, listening to the soft clacking of Sanj’s even cutting.

“Ah, ah. You’re not spending another moment -”

“Enough, Sanji. It’s too early to argue. Leave ‘em.” You dismissed the young man’s efforts to keep you from dishwashing using your kind but firm Voice of Authority. It worked in the salon on younger trainees and equally well on Sanji. The two of you sat in companionable silence, you watching Sanji work while sipping your tea. As you sat, the sun started to peek over the horizon and you watched the sunrise through the small window in the galley door.

“Just as beautiful here,” you said to yourself. You’d always liked the sunrise and were happy to see another.

The crew woke one by one and came to the kitchen, seeking Sanji’s company and cooking. You weren’t sure the chef noticed that the kitchen was everyone’s first stop of the day. He really was a sweet kid, he knew what everyone would want first thing and had a hot breakfast waiting for those who wanted it. By the time Franky and Usopp had come into the kitchen, you’d finished your second cup of tea and put it in the sink, heading for the door. You hadn’t seen Zoro or Jinbe yet but you knew Jinbe had been up late the night before steering the boat so it made sense he would be sleeping. 

“Misty-san, you didn’t eat yet!” Sanji called across the room in despair. You weren’t a breakfast person, you hadn’t been since your teens, and no amount of Sanji-pouting was going to change that.

“I’ll eat later, Sanjito, don’t worry. I’m gonna get some fresh air.” Opening the door to the deck, you meandered outside, taking in the view of the sea. Usopp came and joined you a few minutes later, watching the waves with you for a while while the two of you leaned against the railing.

“By the way,” you supplied, “I was completely serious about your hair. It’s absolutely gorgeous, let me know if there’s a particular style you’d like to try out. I’ll do whatever you want I just hope you don’t want it too short, it’s so lovely.” 

“Yeah, I was thinking about maybe doing something, I’m pretty open,” Usopp said, blushing pink. 

“Would you mind if I touched it? Get a feel for the texture and porosity?” you asked. Usopp shook his head and you reached up to touch his beautiful hair, pulling on the length lightly.

“Absolutely amazing,” you cooed at him, causing him to blush again. “If you want I can give you some ideas but really the sky’s the limit for you. You have enough length for almost any style. We can start later this morning if you want, maybe you can catch me up on this world while I work. Two birds with one stone and all that?” You did need to learn how things worked here and Usopp would be fun to spend time with. It didn’t ultimately matter, you’d had many unpleasant clients before, but it was always better to have interesting or funny clients while you stood over them for hours.

“Uh, y-yeah, that sounds great,” Usopp stammered. You removed your hand from his hair and smiled at the insecure man. You’d been brainstorming about his hair that morning and had a few ideas to suggest. You patted his shoulder and he went off to start working. Speaking of, you headed back into the kitchen to see the sink full of dishes and Sanji’s sleeves already rolled up. Luffy was the last person at the table, and was eating a pile of meat.

“Nuh uh, get out kid,” you stood behind Sanji and tried to push him gently away from the sink. The kid had strong sea legs, he didn’t budge.

“My dearest Misty-swan, I simply could not allow you to do these dishes, especially on your own-” Sanji started up, ready to dissuade you.

“Luffy, Sanji told me he wants to make special meat for dinner, but he doesn’t have the time if he does the dishes. And he won’t let me help. Tell him I’m doing the dishes right now,” you commanded Luffy. Luffy looked up at the word “meat,” and gulped down an enormous mouthful.

“‘S’at true Sanji?” Luffy asked. He already had his hands full of more food to shovel in.

“No, well, I mean, I could, there’s tough meat I could marinate to soften for dinner but -” Sanji was quickly interrupted by the boy Captain.

“Misty, does the dishes, Sanji starts the meat for tonight! Issit gonna be a feast?” You grinned snarkily at Sanji at your triumph.

“Captain’s orders, Sanjito. Gotta follow them, right? So skidaddle,” you put your hands on the Chef’s back and gently pushed him again. He allowed himself to be moved from in front of the sink towards the dry storage.

“Alright, but only once more. I can’t allow -”

“Oh hush kid,” you said with no malice, “get to marinating. I’ll let you do the ones after lunch.” And so you triumphed against Sanji once more, doing the morning dishes as Luffy asked question after question about the meat for the dinner. You weren't sure what a "Sea King" was, but you wouldn't be eating it anyway. You hummed to yourself some of the songs from Frozen since you could practically recite the whole movie by heart.

When you were done and the sink was cleared, you realized your clothes were wet from the dirty water. You went off in search of Nami or Robin to see if they had any clothes from previous readers. You found Robin in the library, reading a large tome while lounging in a large overstuffed armchair with her legs folded up under her.

“Hey Robin, question for you,” you started while the blue eyed woman put a bookmark in her spot.

“Good morning Robin. Yes, how may I help you?” Robin smiled kindly, closing her book.

“I was wondering if you have any extra clothes from previous readers that I can wear? Mine got wet,” you asked. Robin put a finger to her chin in thought.

“I think there are a few, but not many. You can borrow clothes from Nami or myself in the meantime if you wish,” Robin replied. You smiled but internally you grimaced. First of all, you were shorter than Nami and Robin. It’s not like you were particularly short, you were average height in your area. But Nami and especially Robin were much taller than you. But more than that, both of them were unbelievably slim and busty, you weren’t sure you’d fit into anything they had just due to differences in proportion. Also, they seemed to prefer skimpy and skin tight clothes, which was completely fine. It just wasn’t your vibe - you preferred oversized clothing for at least a shirt or pants. Today was the second day in a row you’d seen Nami wearing a bikini top as a shirt and it just wasn’t for you. 

“Oh, thanks. Would you mind if I went to go look?” You’d poke around, see if anything would fit. If not, it wasn’t forever anyway. You could make something work for a few weeks.

“Not at all. The reader's clothes are in the wicker basket in our room, and Nami and I keep our clothes in the closet. Borrow what you’d like from the right hand side, that’s mine. You may wish to ask Nami before you borrow from hers as she may charge for certain items.”

“Thanks for the heads up, I’ll ask her,” you told Robin, leaving her to her reading. Charge you? For borrowing clothes? Nami was a shrewd businesswoman, you could respect the hustle, but didn't have any money to pay her with. Heading over to your room, you decided not to bother with finding Nami - you didn’t think her clothes would fit anyway. Looking through the wicker basket, you found a large enough sweatshirt but nothing else you’d think would fit. Robin’s pants wouldn’t fit you either. You settled for a circle skirt she had, but had to roll the waistband quite a few times since Robin was so tall. It was a weird outfit, but you weren’t going to be judged by Tyra or anything. 

As you were going to leave the women’s quarters, you did a double take as you glanced at Nami’s bedside table. There was a giant snail with a rotary phone on its shell. You took a step back and went to give it a closer look. It looked kind of like a woman with tattoos across her chest and a bandana in her hair, but if she were a snail. You ran a finger over the shell of the snail, which caused it to wake up, to your surprise. You thought it was a figurine or something, not a live snail. It gave you a mild smile, lazily blinking at you. You stoked its shell with your finger, the snail almost reaching into your touch.

“Aww, how cute are you? You look like an African Land Snail,” you cooed at the languid gastropod. Of course, you'd watched a documentary about the largest snails on earth and it made you want one as a pet. As you touched the bottom of the rotary on its shell to examine the phone element, the snail whined. “Oh no! Is that too tight for you? Are you a growing baby?” you fretted. Having taken care of your own animals for years meant that you couldn’t leave an animal in distress, even if it was a…snail phone. You went to your hairdressing kit, rummaging around. Finding the screwdriver you used to disassemble your scissors for sharpening, you turned the screws loose on the rotary. When it was loose, you pried it gently off the snail’s lower shell. You could have sworn the snail sighed in relief. 

“I’m gonna call you Toto. Both because of Dorothy and because y’know…African snail…Africa.…Toto…God, I’m funny. People should really appreciate me more," you said to the smiling snail. "Not you, Toto. You’re great the way you are.” You rubbed your hand along its moist neck and it leaned into you. Poor little guy. “I’ll bring you something to eat later, don’t worry.” You patted the snail once more and left to go find Usopp, bringing your train case with you.

On your way to find Usopp, you passed by Brook and gave him a smile. You hoped he didn’t ask to see your panties again.

“Good morning, fair Misty-chan. May I -”

“This better not be about my panties,” you threatened with the screwdriver you were still holding.

“Ah, then I have a different question, Misty-chan. Do you play any instruments in addition to your singing? I always enjoy having additional musicians on board. Some of the readers have taught me such interesting songs, I’d love to hear if you know any.”

You blushed, embarrassed again that everyone had been hearing your singing and humming. “Uh, well, I’m not really a singer. I’m sure you can tell I’m off-key. But I can play a couple of instruments.” 

“Oh? Please, do share,” Brook asked, inclining his head. You weren’t sure how a skull conveyed interest, but his expression did somehow change.

“I can, uh, play the ukelele a little. And I’ve been taking piano lessons for the past few years. I’m not very good at either.” Like all good Millennials, you taught yourself to play the ukelele in 2012 to complete your ‘quirky’ image.

“Would you like to play together? I’d be more than happy to continue your piano lessons if you wish.” You thought about it, you’d started lessons a few years ago as a way to fill your time after…well, after you suddenly had a lot more become available. “My piano is over here, please, if you wish.” Brook had an absolutely stunning grand piano on the top deck, you’d seen it during your initial tour. Your fingers itched to touch the smooth keys, you bet it sounded incredible.

“Are you sure? Sorry, I don’t usually play for anyone, just myself,” you apologized.

“Please, it would be my absolute pleasure to hear you play.”

You didn’t really have a reason not to, and it wasn’t like you were actually busy doing anything in the afterlife. Humoring a skeleton would take only a few minutes of your time, if that. You sat down at the piano, taking a deep breath and placing your hands on the keys. After a quick warmup, you chose a song you had already mastered, The Velvet Underground’s “I’m Sticking With You.” It was cute, the lyrics were easy to remember, and you felt confident enough in your ability to not make a complete fool of yourself. You played the tune, while Brook nodded his head and tapped his foot in time to the beat. When you finished, he gave you a standing ovation, which only made you blush again.

“Incredible! Do not denigrate yourself, you have the makings of an excellent piano player. Thank you for sharing that song with us, the tune and words are so simple yet so meaningful,” Brook complimented. 

“That song was great!” yelled Luffy from across the deck. “It’s like me! I’m sticking with my nakama forever! And you’re all sticking with me!” You got up from the piano bench, smiling at the boy.

“Well, for the next few weeks anyway. After that, who knows?” you said, shrugging. Luffy just smiled even brighter.

“Yeah, who knows?” he repeated after you. The way he smiled was curious, but it wasn’t like he could do anything about your circumstances. You were stuck like glue with them, at least until you died. Again.

“And what about the ukelele? Would you grace us with another song?” Brook asked, pulling a uke out of his hair. You didn’t want to ask about the physics behind that, but took the small instrument. You hadn’t played in a few years but it wasn’t a particularly difficult instrument. You strummed it lightly, making sure it was in tune. Once you were satisfied that it was, you decided to play “Somewhere Over the Rainbow,” the Israel Kamakawiwoʻole version. You’d been thinking about it since the previous night when you were telling the story to Luffy.

“Hey, Lu, this is a song from that story I was telling you. This is what Dorothy sings when she wishes she wasn’t in Kansas anymore,” you said to the Captain, who’d come closer and sat near the piano.

Singing the gentle tune, you played and crooned the soft lyrics. Obviously you where nowhere near as good as Israel, but you'd sang it a lot in your twenties and didn't think you sounded too bad. Lost in the music, you didn’t realize the deck had gone silent until you had finished the final notes. 

“Young lady, you have blessed us with this charming tune,” Brook said, taking off his top hat and bowing to you.

“Ah, thanks. It’s uh, nothing really,” you said, embarrassed again. You kept your eyes on the uke, fiddling with it. “I’m gonna, uh, find Usopp now,” you finished lamely, putting the ukelele on the piano bench.

“We can meet this afternoon for your piano lesson,” Brook suggested. 

“Sure, thanks. That’d be uh, nice.” You agreed to meet your living skeleton pirate crewmate for piano lessons, thinking to yourself how you and Dorothy both weren’t in Kansas anymore.

[cblgblog]

Hey. so that AU where Lilia Calderu is trying to ignore the world and do her thing in quiet in the early 2000s when her past and future self keep showing up to yell at her until she blinks and finds herself on the streets of Sokovia staring down two small recently orphaned and now homeless children, one of whom has the most terrifying magical aura about her. Or the Maximoff twins, raised by Lilia, and oh how they'd annoy the Avengers.

Oh my God, the chaos though. So much chaos.

Orphaned children who do not know who this random crazy woman is, and why should we go with you? Lilia who’s like, because I’m sick of talking to myself about you, that’s why. But also magics up some decent, warm clothes for them, some food. And hey, you’re welcome to stay in this Sokovian orphanage that looks like the most Dickensian, stereotypically bad orphanage I’ve ever seen, and I’ve lived a really long time.

Wanda and Pietro who think for awhile that Lilia must’ve been in some kind of explosion too. At least something that caused a head injury. Because they’ll be having a perfectly reasonable conversation—by Lilia standards—and then Lilia will just blurt out these random things that make no sense. They’re honestly kinda terrified she’s an escaped mental patient, especially when she starts going on about how Wanda’s a witch with all this untapped power.

“Like on Bewitched?” Because of course that’s where Wanda takes it.

And, mistake, because then there’s this 20 minute rant about how offensive and demeaning and stereotypical that show is, that the kids are just staring at wide-eyed, hoping Lilia interrupts herself with one of her random bits of gibberish. Alas, no dice that day, so they have to suffer her entire spiel about how terrible that show is, which just leaves Wanda deeply offended because shut up, she likes that show.

Pietro just, I don’t like it either, I told her it was stupid. Which gets him a “Good boy,” and a pat on the head from Lilia, not unlike what you’d give a dog.

Twins who think she’s absolutely lost it with this witch stuff, okay, okay, clearly Lilia has some weird ass hidden talents, but Wanda sure doesn’t. Until Lilia coaches Wanda into reading her mind, just a little bit, and oh, okay well, this is new. Wanda who immediately wants to learn more of that please, but no, nope, we’re starting out small, kiddo, you don’t need to be reading your brother’s mind.

Wanda asserts that there’s no trouble there, Pietro’s head is totally empty after all, and then Lilia’s refereeing a bickering match between 10-year-olds and just, sigh.

Lilia telling people that these are her poor, oh so tragically orphaned niece and nephew, and threatening to hex Pietro when he says grandchildren might be more convincing. She also totally uses them in her act, for cuteness and sympathy, oh how about a reading so I can feed my poor little orphan niece and nephews? Did I mention they were orphans?

Pietro grumbling about the unfairness of why Wanda gets cool witch powers and he doesn’t. They’re twins after all; shouldn’t he be a wizard or something? Wanda who lords her new skills over him at first, haha, look what I can do, then realizes that 1, it actually does make him feel bad, and 2—more importantly—he’s gonna be really boring to play with and unable to keep up with her if she doesn’t throw him some sort of bone.

Lilia comes down to breakfast one morning and suddenly Pietro has speedster powers, because of course he does, sigh. Well, that was nice of you, Wanda, sharing is caring, but also never do that again. Partly because it’s incredibly reckless and dangerous, mostly because it’ll now make my life even more complicated.

Lilia meeting up with a fellow witch for something, someone who clocks what Wanda is, or has the potential to be, and just, you have the most powerful magical being in the universe, someone who might be on track to destroy the world, you have this kid hanging out with you in your dumpy little shop shuffling tarot cards?

Lilia’s offense at that, I have a scared, orphaned child with me, who yeah might destroy the world, jury’s still out on that, but who is much, much more likely to do so if she’s running around with all this power and no training. Also, my shop is not dumpy, shut the fuck up.

Kids who are utterly thrilled when Tony Stark is missing and presumed dead, and look at Lilia with complete disgust when she has one of her walkabout moments and tells them Stark isn’t actually dead, he’s gonna come back and be a superhero and they’re gonna help save his life soonish. Twins just, no, absolutely not, thanks but no thanks, mom, we refuse, take away our allowance if you must but no.

And then stuff happens and they end up in New York where all these aliens are causing trouble and they wind up stopping Tony from having to fly into space with the nuke—he still makes the sacrifice play, he still tries to do the right thing, he just gets his play interrupted by a girl in a Hot Topic getup who’s really good at stopping missiles from going off, huh, who knew, where’d she learn that? Which stops Tony from having his Thanos visions and embarking on his descent into paranoia and ‘I must save the whole world by myself even though I literally just joined a team of really powerful co-workers who’s whole thing is helping each other save the world.’ Which ultimately stops the Civil War from going like it did, which in turn means the Avengers are whole and united when Thanos comes to Earth, and are able to stop him. Which stops the Snap, which stops Endgame, which means Tony doesn’t die.

So, Lilia is once again always right, much to the annoyance of the twins who really weren’t that interested in saving Tony’s life but eh, whatever, pluses and minuses to everything.

Also, Stephen Strange showing up at Lilia’s door at some point to discuss the twins because Lilia just, yeah, yeah, Sorcerer Supreme, whatever, such an ego, no, you’re not just whisking my kid off to your little health spa in Tibet, yeah, no, that’s not happening.  If you do, you're gonna have to take him with you, they're a package deal, yes even if he doesn't have magic.

Strange meeting Pietro and just, yeah, maybe I don't actually wanna do this after all, maybe we can discuss some kind of alternate arrangement for continuing her training.

[rotomartsblog]

Stories I want to base Ever After High OCs off (an ever growing list)

Hans My Hedgehog (One of my favourite ‘obscure’ fairytales. Already decided her name would be Hannah M. Hedgehog. To fit the design aesthetic of eah she wouldn’t literally have the upper body of a hedgehog and the lower body of a human, she’d be more of a hybrid. She’s a rebel because she rejects her destiny of becoming fully human at the end of the story and embraces her hedgehog side.)

Boy Who Cried Wolf (See my last reblog. Lies a lot but because of their destiny no one tends to believe them anyways. Also accidentally right a lot. Not lying maliciously just doing it for shits and giggles)

The Frog Princess (Because I think it’d be funny for there to be two royals who turn into frogs but are completely unrelated to each other. Also there’s so many variants of this story from region to region that it’d be fun to write this girl)

Speaking of, The Frog Prince (Specifically the daughter of the princess from the tale and the son of the prince’s gayass servant. Princess Girl does not want to be Hopper’s princess but is slightly willing to enact the version where she gets to throw Frog Hopper at a wall instead of kissing him. Dislikes frogs a bit but plays it up as a seething hatred to scare Hopper. Kind of a bitch if you couldn’t tell. Sporty girl. The servant boy is 100% in love with Hopper, like father-like son, and has the iron bands around his heart. Maybe he could be Hopper’s real true love :x)

Pinocchio (Daughters of The Coachman and Mangiafuoco, and niece of Lampwick. The Coachman’s daughter has a pet donkey that everyone thinks is a turned boy, but nope it’s just a regular donkey. She’s a rebel because she doesn’t want to go down the route of her father. Mangiafuoco’s daughter is scary and off-putting, but actually a genuinely nice girl. Would love to perform onstage but she has stage fright and is just so shy in general, so she resorts to puppet theatre instead. Always uses a hand puppet to talk through. Lampwick’s niece is a rebel because she’d rather not turn into a donkey thank you very much. Low-key resented Cedar up until Legacy Day because she believed if Cedar didn’t exist she wouldn’t need to turn into a donkey. Now they’re on better terms since Cedar decided she’d become human in her own way)

The Wolf and the Seven Young Goats (Youngest son of the youngest goat. Really I just like people with goat features. He’d feel tense around Ramona, even though he’s pretty sure she’s probably not the wolf from his story)

Puss In Boats (Daughter of Puss In Boots. Would probably be able to transform between an animal and human form like Bunny Blanc. Doesn’t really align herself with Royal or Rebel, but has slipped into thoughts like ‘if I can make someone else royalty, why can’t I make myself royalty?’)

The Prince and The Pauper (It’s not a fairytale but the books included King Lear’s daughter so I feel like I’m free to do this. I just think designing two boys that look identical would be fun)

Mwindo (One of my favourite tales because of how entertainingly OP Mwindo is. I imagine that his son would be equally as OP and like half of the student population is scared of him. But that fear often gets subsided because he’s not that keen on using his powers like his dad was)

Commedia dell’arte (Not a story but kids based on the stock characters could be fun. They probably wouldn’t attend Ever After High since they wouldn’t have actual destinies, they’d attend another high school. I had the idea of Cedar doubling as the Burattino stock character, and it developed into all the stock characters being based on different dolls/toys, ie Pierrot being a rag doll, Pulcinella being a wind-up toy, etc. Really I just want Cedar to have people who could understand her whole ‘Am I even real’ situation better, is that too much to ask?!)

Two miscellaneous additions that don’t actually align to specific stories; a Warrior Girl and a Forest Witch. (The Warrior Girl is the daughter of a warrior tribe leader. My idea for her story is that it’s an ancient epic that is so old it has lost its exact name, having been repeated so many times. Also, her reason for following her destiny is less ‘we have to or we all disappear’ and more ‘I have to so I can prove myself worthy’. Her warrior kingdom’s society is very different from Ever After’s society, which she learnt the hard way. She feels awkward hanging out with the other girls because of cultural differences, and she doesn’t like hanging out with boys because they tend to underestimate her. She was only supposed to attend for Legacy year so that she could sign the Book of Legends because Milton Grimm would not stop bugging her father about it, but she decided to stay after the shit show that happened on Legacy day. I didn’t base the Forest Witch of a specific fairy tale because goddamn it there are too many witches living in the forests in these tales for me to choose just one. In universe she probably has a specific destiny, or a few, I just haven’t chosen it yet. Very closed off from others. Actually lives in the Enchanted Forest with her mother. She also likes archery but how much of her skill is genuine and is magic is up to debate)

The Devil (He appears in a lot of fairytales. The OC is a girl who is clearly the daughter of the devil, but it’s never said so no one actually knows it. Every time someone asks about her destiny she’s like ‘it’s nothing important don’t worry about it :)’)

[aceistheplace86]

Strawberry & Pine pt.4

“Grunkle Stan has a girlfriend!” Mable squealed shaking her brother around. She was defiantly not spying on Stan and the girl from the other day.

“Mable quit it!” Dipper shoved her away. “I wonder what they’re doing here”

“Maybe they’re going to run away together!” Mable jumped up and down but stopped when Stan turned and noticed her watching him.

Stan came inside holding the door for Julie “Mable what did I say about watching people like that”

“It’s creepy if you get caught!”

Julie chuckled a bit “Cute kid”

“Great Niece and Nephew. Mable and Dipper” He says gesturing to them

“I need to know everything about you! What’s your favorite color? Do you have siblings? Thoughts on capybaras?”

Julie tilted her head “I like pink today, I suppose my favorite sibling would be my twin sister, and they’re adorable”

Mable grins “You have a twin too?”

“Oh yeah, and my younger brothers are twins too. My mother and uncle are twins as well” Julie says wiggling her fingers like she’s telling a spooky story “Total Twin Take over”

“What are you doing here?” Dipper asked before stuttering out “I-I mean we’re closed… so no tours”

“Julie is going to be working here,” Stan said simply.

“I told you he liked her” Mable whispers to Dipper. Stan heard her but said nothing.

---------------------------------------------------------------

Julie and Stan work together at the Mystery Shack during the day and work together on the portal at night. Stan found it much easier to get things going using her magic.

“I think we might have an actual chance to get that thing running,” Stan says. They were sitting outside on the porch enjoying the cool air.

“Hell yeah, you really know what you’re doing with all that advanced physics and math stuff,” She says waving her hand.

“What?” He looks over at her

“I mean it took Ford a while and some help to get that stuff going. You’ve got it down and you did that alone” She grins “You’re real smart”

Stan just stared at her. He had never once thought of himself as smart. Never once was made to believe that it was even a possibility that he could be smart. “Well uh… You’re saying you, as a witch don ‘t understand that kinda stuff?”

“Oh I do, I’ve been around a long time so I’ve had plenty of time to learn things” Julie leans back against the couch “Doesn’t take away from your achievement. You, Stanley Pines, need to give yourself more credit.”

He sat with it for a second and just stared at her. She wasn’t looking at him so he didn’t feel bad taking in her features. Her words made it sound like she could actually see him, so now he took his time to actually see her.

Her skin had a warm caramel glow, her eyes were a deep, dark brown, almost black, something about them had drawn him towards her that day he met her. Her hair was full of tight, bouncy curls that seemed to spring right up from her head.

She was striking.

“Y’know I saw your commercials” She turned and looked at him right as he looked away from her. She noticed the red on his face.

“W-what?”

She chuckled “Oh yeah. Thought you were real daring with all those inventions and fake names” She kept looking at him “You rocked that mullet too”

Stan found himself flustered. He cleared his throat and rubbed the back of his neck “You know the kids…”

“No worries, your secret is safe with me” She promises him while standing up. “I should probably get home”

Stan nodded realizing it would be daylight soon and he would need to be up to run the Shack. “Uh Thanks, for your help. All of it, y’know?” He stood up.

“No need to thank me, Stanley, really,” she tells him. Her eyes lingered on his face for a while before she cracked a smile “You made a real bad choice bringing me around, I’m going to be such a bad influence on those kids” She turned and starts to walk away.

Stan laughs “Just not on the clock! This place runs on child labor!”

She turns and looks at him “You said bring a bunch of junk food and get them on a sugar high? Got it!” She gave him another smile before disappearing, the red light trailing around where she once stood.

Stan stared at where she just was, a small smile on his face. “Oh crap” he mumbled “Mable was right”

// Stan Pines is crazy smart and I will die on this hill.

[theshimadaslovers]

THE ONRYO

Chapter 1

(ONRYO HANZO X YOU FEM!READER)

Genre: Magicpunk/DungeonPunk, drama, fantasy, romance.

Summary: You and a couple of friends were telling some ghost stories in a campfire, looking for new adventures. So, one of your closest friends, who knows the forest with the palm of her hands, tells an interesting myth about a spirit known as an Onryo, a violent ghost that can hurt you for real.

?? - All right, that one is not real, Briggite! *laughs* Ghosts are not real!

Brig- Not real? Dragons are real, Olivia! 

Olivia- They are animals and when people die, they're dead!! Right, y/n?! 

You- *eating* Mm…? Oh! I mean, it's possible. Is interesting actually… Tell me more about that thing, Brig. 

Brig- Well well! Someone is nice here! *laughs and sits close* They never told anybody the true story of the Onyro, but I know. 

Olivia- How? *roll eyes* 

Brig- My mother was a witch, you know, right? She met this demon! She said that his true story is that, actually, he's a man from a powerful empire of crime called Shimada and he killed his own brother! And his father paid coins of gold to a powerful witch to curse his own son and he became this demon, now, they call him a Sleepy Dangerous Spirit of The Darkest Forest. 

Olivia- Bullshit, there's not such things as demons! 

You- I've heard about that… *thinking out loud*

Brig- What do you mean? *surprised* 

You- No! Nothing! *laughs* It sounds like an old story from my parents! Is there any kind of cure for this curse? 

Brig- Is a flower in a high cold mountain, something like that. A lot of people said that this is not the real story, but, it may actually have something more about him. Isn't it interesting?

You- I like that! *laughs and stands up* Well, girls, I have to go, my uncle is waiting for me.

Olivia All right, but don’t listen to Brigitte, I know you’re crazy about those myths, but, come on… is there any chance that it could be real?

You- *smirk* The world is a mysterious box of Pandora, Olivia. There’s always a chance. We live inside of a Pandora Box.

Olivia- *swallow dry* That was a little creepy…

*later in your house located in the middle of the forest, you open the door finding your uncle exploding some alchemy* 

Uncle- Oh! Holy damn! That was a big one! *he was a wizard hided from the government* 

You- Uncle, what are you doing? *laughs* You’re gonna get attention from the guards like that.

Uncle- *turn around with his face dirty with pink dust* Well well! My sweet niece! I’m trying to figure out how to make color without using natural materials! For your paintings!

You- We live in the middle of nature, uncle, it is alright to use flowers and other things. By the way, I have a question for you.

Uncle- Yes yes! *cleaning his face* What is it?

You- Remember the myth about the demon Onryo? *your uncle stopped for a moment a little shocked* What? You told me that he was real.

Uncle- Yes, he is real! But you don’t mess with him! 

You- Brigitte told me his real story, her mother told her before die. 

Uncle- Yes, I remember her mother… She was a wize witch, she saw the demon with her own eyes. 

You- So… I said that he’s murdering people in the forest, right?

Uncle- Yes! But this is not our business! *go back to the experiments but you get in his way* 

You- Since I was a kid, I have wanted to know this spirit. 

Uncle- Evil spirit, y/n! You should not invoke him! 

You- You want to be known as a great wizard again! This is your chance to get away from the government's eyes! 

Uncle- This spirit is dangerous! He’s sadistic, powerful and will laugh at you while you bleed! And a liar too.

You- If you won’t do it, I’ll do it for you.

Uncle- No! *his aura starts to get red and visible* I said no! You’ll die in a blink of an eye! 

You- He is the biggest enemy for our kingdom! The greatest fear of the king! He killed the queen! The only one able to turn this man back to normal or kill him, is you! 

Uncle-... *get closer* I would never dare to be face to face with this demon. Never! Is possible to kill or cure, but only with a flower that’s impossible to reach! 

You- A flower! In the highest cold mountains!

Uncle- Guarded by a great dragon! *annoyed* A dragon of fire! A such a powerful fire that would NEVER freeze in that mountain! Hotter than hell! Burns as lava! 

You-...*take a deep breath* Fine! I don’t need to convince you anyway.

Uncle- What?

You- *Make a spell that makes you disappear in a smoke* 

Uncle- No no! Y/n! COME BACK! *inhales* I should never have taught spells to this girl…! 

*at your uncles library* 

You- *walk to a specific shelf picking up a thin notebook between the books* If you won’t do it, I’ll do it! *you open up the notebook and grab a book about myths and other one about the kingdom history* I’ve been preparing that for him for years! And he says “no”?! Idiot! *open the book of myths in a page of Onryo* “A guarding evil spirit from the Darkest Forest…” blah blah… here! Invocation! “Set two red candles in the ground in the middle of the darkest spot of a forest, light it up and place a red fire flower between, walk two steps back and hold an incense, light it up and speak the spell”. Right! I’m ready.

*you put everything in a backpack and walk to the window, open up and with no hesitation, you jump. Lucky you that has a tree in front, so you hold in the stem and go to the ground, then, your adventure starts, while your uncle, try to look for you a hour later* 

Uncle- *open the door of your room*  Y/n can we talk for a…? Y/n? *sighs and close the door going to the library open up* Y/n are you here? *see the open window* What? *the rest of the room looks totally normal, but he thought in the worse* Aw shit! *Close the door running out of the house* Y/n!! Y/N! Oh no…! 

*in the middle of the walk, you were reading the book about Onryo again* 

You- Why did they make up so many different stories for him? *sighs* I hope Brig is right about that one. Darkest place of the forest… *look around* Maybe, south? No… Too close to the cannibal tribes. *look back* Maybe East, but my uncle can detect me easily *look forward* It may have some cave around here.

*The first rule is to find the darkest place of the forest to make the invocation work, to avoid attention if someone is close, if there’s more than one person in the invocation ritual, the Onryo won’t appear, if insists, he will kill everyone with no excitation in a blink of an eye. After about two hours walking, around evening, you spot a deep cave with the entry covered with a curtain of leaves* 

You- Yes! *you smile running tired to the cave, getting closer, you felt a something cold in your spine* Creepy… *swallow dry and slowly entering the cave* Fine… the candles. 

*you pick up the candles in your backpack placed in the ground as the rules say, the flower that was safely stored in a glass jar, you place it between the red candles. Light up the candles in stand up now holding the incenses* All right… *take a deep breath lighting up, closing your eyes and starting the spell* 

“Homo damnatus in gehennam aeternam.

Malus spiritus surge e sepulchro tuo.

Ostende faciem tuam in mundo, ostende cornua tua et fortitudinem tuam.

Magne Onryo, invitum te invoco, pro viribus verborum meorum, sepulcrum tuum aperio.”

*Nothing happened, you open one eye and see everything quiet* 

You- What? *you grab the book open up in the right page* The latin spell didn’t work…! Of course! He’s a japanese spirit! *you slap your own forehead* Dammit! I’ll try to translate…? *take a deep breath closing your eyes again, but suddenly you smell something burning* ?! 

*You open your eyes and see the flower between the candles burning without touching anything, you step away a little scared and see two fine lines of fire coming from the candles touch each other making the flower turn into a bigger fire that makes you step away a little more. The fire started to grow bigger every second, like a huge campfire, the light was so strong that it made you put the book in front of your face and close your eyes, than… everything stops*

You- …? *you heard a growl making you keep the book in front of your face, now, scared and shaking* Oh shit…! It worked! Oh shit shit shit…! 

Onryo- Who dares to invoke me?! *you hear others growls, but not coming from him* How dare?! 

You- *slowly and shaking putting the book down* I…! I did! *you gasp seeing this blue demon figure looking to you*

Onryo- *tilt his head* You… *two creatures similar to dragons, skeletons dragons, appear behind him growling to you* A foolish woman…? *walk towards you* Where should I start? From the legs? They look taste *chuckles* Should I smash your head and eat your brains? *stay face to face* Take your pretty eyes off? *you felt his claws caressing your arms* Fresh… *the dragons wrap you around making you gasp and panic* Shhh shhh… *he hold you face* You know the consequences. 

You- Please…! I have a proposal! For you! *the dragons squeeze you more* Hm…!! 

Onryo- You want to make a proposal to a demon? *chuckles moving his face to you neck and smelling* Hmmm… such a good smell of meat… 

You- Please! *squeezing more* Hm! I know your true story! I…! *gasp*

Onryo- *chuckles and whispers with his demonic voice in you ear* Out of air? No one knows the truth, no one cares… *Look in your eyes* Liar…! 

*The dragons squeeze you until you roll your eyes almost fainting*

Onryo- Good girl… *laughs stepping away*

You- *gasp* A witch…! She…! Knew you!! 

Onryo-... A witch? *walk fast back to you and grab your neck making the dragons letting you go* What witch?! Do you know her?! 

You- *gasp* That witch you told her your true story! 

Onryo- Hmm… *let you go make you fall in your knees catching some breath* I remember that witch, I told her my story.

You- You’re a human… you’re cursed by your own family... killed your own brother…

Onryo- I DIDN’T KILL MY BROTHER! *He voice echoed like hell* I would never dare to kill him! I…! *he growls* Give a good reason to not kill you! 

You- I have the cure! *you stand up* I can bring you back! 

Onryo- *chuckles* You? A little girl? What are you?

You- Daughter of witches! I know about the cure, I know what can bring you back! 

Onryo- And why do you want to help me? Reckless girl! 

You- You’ve been killing innocent people for blood! 

Onryo- Oh, is that so? Want to be a hero? *laughs* 

You- Do you want to be hunted forever?

Onryo- I’m feared by everyone! *walk towards you* I’ma god! I’m powerful! 

You- And lonely! We hate you, Onryo! You’re a demon! 

Onryo- Demon? *chuckles* You think I care about being lonely and hated? I love that! 

You- Right… So you actually killed your brother in cold bloo-! *he grab your neck* Is that what everyone thinks about you! 

Onryo- Talk about my brother again and I will break your neck! 

You- So you gonna have to break everyones neck! *smile* Don’t you wanna prove to them that you’re the victim here?! 

Onryo- Victim? *he chills but still holds your neck* I’m the victim…

You- My…neck! So listen to me! You come with me to get the flowers that can bring you back! All right? You become human again and we go hunt that stupid witch! 

Onryo- And kill my father… *laughs and bring you close to him* So you’re going to make an deal with the devil! 

You- What?!

Onryo- I have my conditions… You'll be loyal to me, no lies! No betray! And you will obey me…! Only me!

You- And that's my condition…you'll protect me! *he growls* Yes! That's the deal!

Onryo- You're a witch! You have a lot of power in your veins! 

You- I…! *gasp* I'm not that strong yet! *he immediately let you go laughing out loud* 

Onryo- Daughter of witches?! No power?! Liar! 

You- It's a deal?! Or not?! 

*He look at you for a few seconds and chuckles*

Onryo- All right, human… is a deal with the devil *smirk*

Continue...

[forthesanityofstorytellers]

Seven snippets, seven people

Well this is a new one for me, lol Thanks for the tag @sleepyowlwrites!!

Pulling snippets from Abracadabra and Halfblood (both going through a re-working) and some of my favorites from Becks' Backstories. No pressure tagging @ettawritesnstudies @kittensartswriting, @bloodlessheirbyjacques, @magic-is-something-we-create, and just an open tag for the rest Because An-Hour-From-Midnight-As-I'm-Typing-Brain Reasons 😂

A JulesXRod conversation. Hard to make a deal when neither of them trusts the other. I mean, it's with reason...

"You want what?" Jules asked, drawing me back to our conversation. Her black eyes stared at me in complete passive boredom, flicking down to the cell in my hand before going back up to my face. "You heard me," I answered, putting the phone away. "I want to make a deal." A slow, patronizing smile spread across her face. "And what could you offer to me, little thief?" "In exchange for your sword, I can offer you a way home." Her smile fell into a frozen line as a look of feigned annoyance crossed her face. "Nice try, darling,” she sighed, flicking some hair over a shoulder as she folded her arms. “The portals were sealed a long time ago. No one can open them these days. Not even you." "They weren't sealed," I said with a sly smile. "They were locked." She shrugged a single shoulder. "Same difference if you don’t have the key, dear.”

Rod does not like the cold.

My fingers were all but frozen as I struggled to close my phone. Kashi was captured, huh? I felt like I should have been more surprised at the news, but I doubted much could surprise me at this point. At least she had one of me there to rescue her. My next stop was so high up in the mountains one could barely breathe. It was cold. So cold. So, so freaking cold. The air was thin. Snow whipped my body and stung my face. None of it was nearly as intimidating as the twenty-foot circle of protective magic set smack-dab in the middle of the frozen forest. It was old magic, completely foreign to Terra. There was no wildlife around to speak of. Even the trees seemed reluctant to come near the barrier. They kept the edge of the circle at arm's length, the very edges of their branches inches away from the invisible border. I stood at the edge, staring down.

Rod talks it out with a sentient sword.

I gave a frustrated snort. "No, I mean what is he? He has far too much magical ability to be human." "He's…" She hesitated, green eyes paling. “…complicated." “Aren’t we all.” It was a dodgy answer, and she knew it. A small telling smirk rested on her pale face, her form flickering for a moment. The sword was laughing at me. I’m the imp. I laugh at people. A look of annoyance passed across her face, color returning to her body in a sharp burst. "Did you learn what you needed or not?" "I always learn," I said, crossing my arms. “The question is whether or not I’ll act.” We stared at each other for a moment more, but it was posturing at this point. There was no sense in picking at a dead plant if you’re not looking for firewood. I shot her a quick smile. "It's high time for a family reunion, Lady Grace. Let's say we go find your niece." Said niece, ‘Jules’ by name, was a six-foot tall sociopathic witch with a bloodlust rivaled only by some of the oldest and meanest Elewnai. She had been active lately, but the last I heard, Jules had run off to Spain with an ex-Keeper and was hiding out with him in an abandoned house off one of the side-roads connected to a rural town. Granted, sometimes keeping track of timelines was difficult thanks to my hat, but it seemed a good enough place to start.

An introduction to Kashi that I wrote a few days ago. Kashi does not like collars.

Rain. Cold spikes through the dark of the night, stabbing and splintering across the rooftops, dancing against the concrete and stone that stretched out in an endless sweep of man-made structures, ones meant to break the horizon and reach into the sky. Kashi crouched silently, pressing against the night and hiding from starlight. Her nose for magic had led her to this place, the trail of one of her kind dragging itself through the air and the earth until it seemed to settle here. She wasn’t sure what was so important about this place, only that her prey had stopped here and so had she. Dark splotches of water peppered the street and sidewalk below, pooling in the cracks spiderwebbing across the cement while the dim streetlights showed barely a halo of electric light below. It was enough to see by, her eyes flicking between shadow and light as she waited. A band of metal around her neck itched, the light flashing just enough to be annoying, to let you think it had finished before flashing again. Damn Keepers. They wanted her to hunt down one of her own kind but didn’t give her nearly enough room to do it in. Probably afraid that she’d run if they didn’t collar and tag her before letting her loose. And they were right.

Back in the Old West days, Becks went by Jo Hunter, Witch of the Mojave. And she likes killing people.

She licked her lips and turned back to the one at gunpoint. Pressed the tip of her pistol into his skin. “Now…you want to think about your next move? Or should we get to the part where I just kill you?” He didn’t stop glaring, his victim having already scuttled away and was hiding in the corner. Body tensed as he made his decision. “Go to hell!!” he roared, turning and slapping her gun away, rounding on her with a gun of his own. She used the action to spin away from the wild shot, turned and kicked out, catching him in the leg hard enough to bring him to a knee. She regained her footing and locked a hand around his neck, enhancing the grip with a thick set of vines that wormed their way under his skin. And smiled. Laughed. “Where do you think I come from!?” His eyes widened as she began to suck his life away, slowly and painfully. His hands wrapped around hers, confusion and panic setting in as he realized he couldn’t pry it away. Too weak, too scared. Eyes began to wander, but she latched onto his brain and forced him to listen to her. Forced his brain to do what she said. “Look into my eyes,” she whispered. “I wanna watch your pitiful little soul escape as I suck it from your sockets.”

1700s, Becks was known as Silvia. She's started to get the idea that maybe William isn't what he seemed like at first but isn't sure she wants to care.

He frowned. Looked at the ground. Back at her. Walked up to her and put a hand on her arm. “Please? You know he likes you more than me. And…I know you don’t like it when he’s angry. I know you don’t like it when I…” he hesitated as she began to draw away from him, his grip on her arm tightening just a little. Just enough to keep her there. “Angel. Come back with me.” She looked at his hand. His grip was…she wanted to run. To flee. It was too restricting against her arm. Pulling her, keeping her there. But…But William liked her. More than liked her, if he had been telling the truth the last few years. And he had never been afraid of her. Not like Bran. Not like the mages. Not like the humans. Never feared her. She pouted a little and finally nodded. “Alright, I’ll…William. I’ll do it, just let go.” He kept his hand around her arm just a little longer, looking her in the eyes. There was a flicker of something there…some satisfaction almost. It was gone in a moment as he smiled and let her arm go. “Thank you, Angel. Let’s get back before he loses his mind even more.”

And this is when Becks was known as Mattie, and what Mattie did to people that threaten her kid.

“We’re taking the child,” the man stated, hand around Lily’s arm. “And that gun isn’t going to change the issue.” Mattie had a rifle trained at his head, stood steady and still on the rickety old porch. “Say that again when you aren’t sweating,” she snapped. “You have no idea what you’re dealing with,” he said calmly. “This creature–” “My kid!!” “--is not even human. Not all the way, at any rate. She’s clearly messed with your head, made you think she’s your daughter, but believe me. That’s what these things do.” “Call her a thing one more time,” Mattie said calmly, “and it’ll be the last words you speak.” “Ma’m, I can assure you. Your life will be better without her in it. These things–” A shot rang out. The body jerked, dropped to the floor.

Thanks again! (And sorry it took so long!)

[abigailspinach]

Death of the Author by Nnedi Okorafor

It is the story of the Humes, robots left after humanity has left the Earth, left to adjust their own programming and repair their own bodies and discover what life has to offer. It is the story of Zelu, her literary novel rejected from another publisher and recently fired from her adjunct professor job (after telling the entitled white boy in workshop that his work was shit, which like, there’s always one of those and she was right, Justice for Prof. Zelu), who begins to write something just for fun, she writes and writes until the power company shuts off her power and then writes some more. It is a story about the tough reality of being a working writer, but it is also about storytelling, the power of creation, embodiment, culture, and joy. Nnedi Okorafor is not pulling any punches in her latest, Death of the Author, a cross-genre turducken of a novel. This feels like a breakout work from someone who is already a superstar, and it’s clear that Okorafor fucking loves writing. Death of the Author is a special, special book. I can’t wait for you all to experience it. (January 14, William Morrow)

But Not Too Bold by Hache Pueyo

Capricious House itself is beautiful—old, unusual, but ornate. Its employees are well-trained, diligent, loyal. Things run like clockwork. They must, because the mistress of the house is particular, and she guards many secrets. She is also a giant (GIANT) spider. Hache Pueyo’s But Not Too Bold is a gothic wonder that follows Dália, the newly appointed keeper of the keys, a role she’s been training for all her life. When her mentor is (maybe mistakenly) eaten by the spider mistress of the house, Dália is called upon to take her place and to help uncover something precious that was stolen. And the Arachnid-In-Charge takes a, let’s say, “special interest” in Dália. Ya know, in a “gal pals” way. But Not Too Bold accomplishes a lot in the span of a novella—a dreamy yet dangerous world, romance and intrigue, curiosities abound. After this, I am desperate for more work from Pueyo cuz I bet it’ll be deeply weird and honestly, we all need more of that in our lives. (February 11, Tordotcom)

The Antidote by Karen Russell

It’s an intimate thing, holding memories for other people. It has to be. And though The Antidote, a prairie witch who acts as a vault for the small town of Uz, Nebraska, isn’t conscious of the memories she holds, she feels them in her—and she feels their loss, too. When she loses 15 years worth of transfers due to the dust storm on Black Sunday (a real historical event of the Dust Bowl) just as the farmers lost their crops, you can understand how this would be equally if not more devastating. Through The Prairie Witch’s story, along with that of farmer Harp Oletsky and his basketball star niece Dell, Karen Russell tells the story of a town, its strange happenings, of motherhood and grief, of the land and its memory. Russell is one of our most spectacular wielders of the surreal, and The Antidote is an absolute flex. (March 11, Knopf)

Rose/House by Arkady Martine

Now this is where I break one of my rules, because this is technically a re-issue but Martine’s sci-fi gothic is irresistible. I’m making up for the fact that A Memory Called Empire was published before I was doing these lists and I didn’t get the chance to gush about it so we’re going all in on this, baby. Yeah, you heard me, I said sci-fi gothic, there is a creepy house and it is in SPACE!! Dr. Selene Gisil was once assistant to the great architect, Basit Deniau, who was by all accounts a total asshole. She’s since moved on. It’s not her fault that in his will, he left Rose House to her—and she is the only one allowed inside, once a year, for only a week. Because Rose House is not just built with A.I., but sentient and haunted (and, by all accounts kind of a bitch). So it’s more than a little fucked up when she gets a call saying there’s been a murder inside Rose House. The mystery unravels with never-ending twists and turns and brilliant prose, and Rose/House is clearly another jewel in the crown of sci-fi queen Arkady Martine. Just remember folks: All A.I. is bad, even if it comes in a sexy creepy labyrinthine house-shaped package. (March 11, Tordotcom)

Murder by Memory by Olivia Waite

Ooooh my god it’s cute, oh my god it’s so cute! Murder by Memory is one of those books that just immediately puts a smile on your face. In this cozy sci-fi mystery, Detective Dorothy Gentleman wakes up in a new body. Now, this isn’t entirely unusual—she’s on a sentient generation ship, one that is able to keep copies of its residents’ minds in a Library for when their bodies fail and need to be remade, effectively granting them several lifetimes. But the body Dorothy is in doesn’t belong to her, and the ship (Ferry, who is incredibly cute and sings sea shanties) alerts her to a potentially devastating mystery that only she can solve. Dorothy is an incredible friend to be with on this wild ride, with smarts and sass that keep pace with a propulsive plot. The vibes here are like Murderbot mixed with Legends and Lattes—which is a great recipe for fun, if you ask me. (March 18, Tordotcom)

A Palace Near the Wind by Ai Jiang

You know that scene from The Two Towers where the Ents take on Isenguard? Of course you do, because you’re a person of taste and culture. A Palace Near the Wind feels like that scene in novel form. Lufeng is a Wind Walker, a tree-like being that cares for the natural world. She is currently the eldest princess, and unfortunately that means she will soon be wed to the human king as part of an agreement between their people—a bride in exchange for delayed expansion of the human empire (and therefore preservation of the natural lands). In a sort of Bluebeard’s Wife situation, Lufeng’s mother and sisters were previously given to the king, and have never returned. Unfortunately her people are kinda trapped into this deal—give over a bride or get your homeland obliterated—but she believes her family to still be alive somewhere. So she goes, and she’s pretty keen on killing the king for all he’s done. What follows is a high fantasy filled with political intrigue, mystery, heart, and eco-conscious worldbuilding. There’s something for everyone here, especially if you’re into deep lore and badass tree content. (April 8, Titan)

The Raven Scholar by Antonia Hodgson

Before I get into this, I need you to know that I started reading The Raven Scholar at a completely normal person hour and then blinked and it was 2am. One of those reading experiences, you know? I was fully engaged from the jump and write to you now feeling completely obsessed. The world of The Raven Scholar is richly developed; its prose and dialogue absolutely sing, its characters are rich and real and charming as hell. In this world, everyone affiliates with one of the Guardians—Fox, Raven, Tiger, Ox, Bear, Monkey, and Hound—each with its own domain and set of expected professions (and normally I’m not super down with the whole ‘have a single symbol for your whole personality’ kind of worldbuilding, like a fantasy Meyers-Briggs, but its voluntary and done as adults so it feels less limiting). With the emperor set to step down from his reign, a festival begins during which seven contenders will compete to be the next leader, one from each affiliation. But at the start, one is murdered, which results in the titular raven scholar Neem Kraa down a path to unravel the mystery and a generations-long political intrigue involving many betrayals and coverups. The fact is, friends, that I’m in love with this and I need you all to read it so we can talk about it. Okay? Okay. Also, there is a very good chameleon named Pink-Pink. ALSO ALSO THERE ARE FOOTNOTES.  (April 15, Orbit)

When the Tides Held the Moon by Vanessa Vida Kelley

Okay, as I tell you about this book, I need you to imagine me here waving a big Puerto Rican flag okay? It’s important. Because our protagonist here, Benny, is a Puerto Rican in New York City at the turn of the 20th century, and it’s nice to see him get to smooch a hot merman knowing how rough that would have been. Vanessa Vida Kelley’s queer historical romance is breathtaking (lol get it cuz he’s a merman and they have to be underwater, but seriously—) both in its storytelling and its presentation; the author is also an artist and the pages of this book feature a multitude of illustrations. Benny is, as I mentioned, a migrant, and his job as an ironworker leads to a strange opportunity. A local sideshow, Morgan’s Menagerie of Human Oddities has asked for an ornate water tank, one that must be transportable. Benny is unprepared for the creature that gets put inside his build, nor how it makes him feel to connect with a being who challenges his whole worldview. What unfolds is not only a tender romance between these two men, both held captive by their circumstances, but a story about found family, about marginalized communities and outsiders, about freedom and the ocean. If you’re looking to feel heartache and hope, this one’s for you. (April 29, Erewhon)

The Starving Saints by Caitlin Starling

The vibes are STRONG with this one—from the very beginning I was hooked on Caitlin Starling’s latest dark fantasy, absolutely gorging myself on its prose. Aymar Castle is under siege, its people starving and becoming restless. They keep sending messengers out in hopes of seeking aid but none return. Phosyne, a nun-turned-attic-witch hoping to find a solution to their lack of food and clean drinking water. When the king demands a miracle and assigns her a chaperone to urge her work in the form of the imposing and powerful Ser Voyne (who is HOT), both women are faced with an impossible task. Trelia, a servant girl who catches rats to eat and trade and hates Ser Voyne, discovers a hidden part of the castle that might lead to a way out. But the suffering continues until one day, four beings arrive in the castle, claiming to be saints—and everyone goes absolutely apeshit about it. The Starving Saints is a delirious descent into madness, with three fascinating women at its core. This one is for people who like a little sacrilegious weirdness and also wish Game of Thrones was just a fancam of Brienne of Tarth. (May 20, Harper Voyager)

[amor-immortalem]

Nice I'm looking forward to it. I'm very excited. I love the reading experience in ao3 but I enjoy seeing it first here on tumblr. It feels special. Also, when I said surveillance, I kinda meant more magically. Since the obey me world is magical I thought there might be spells or even the use of familiars. Satan loves cats and I'm sure now that he has his own family, there are probably many around him. I know the cats aren't his familiars but in many fantasy stories and even in real life it's believed witches can use them like familiars/surveillance. Or even going to Barbatos which then there wouldn't be a story if it was so easy but he has options? Solomon as well unless he's not part of your universe 🤣 Or even his brothers familiars might be able to gather the intelligence from afar. Heck even the lazy cow and his dream powers can probably help. I don't expect it to be that easy to gather evidence because the step mom is a witch so she's probably familiar with a lot and idk how powerful she is, but he has many options that he can turn to and then make a decision on his own accord. Also, you mentioned him coming up with ideas with his nieces but if they already know how bad she is how come he doesn't believe them/needs evidence? Unless they haven't witnessed it themselves but heard it from Meli? I hope before the reconciliation there's some delicious angst. Meli will forgive him but I hope there's a lot of tension and angst before the conversation. Some angry Meli scenes maybe even moving away from him for a while. The amount of petty and resentment in me is just diabolical 😈🫣 I love it when the brothers suffer for my(our) entertainment lmao. Also, sorry for the long rant. You don't have to answer my silly questions if it's gonna spoil the story so I'm very curious. I hope there's some answers within the story. It is kinda sad that your next gen/ general next gen fics aren't that popular. There's so much creative freedom especially for those of us with daddy issues so we can project onto them 🤣

Huh… you know for as long as I’ve been thinking about this plot line I’ve never once thought of magical surveillance or familiars being used. (My brain’s kinda smooth can you tell?) Thanks for bringing that up because that’s such a simple resolution to the issue!

And after reading your ask I just realized that I never really clarified that step mom is a demon not a witch. Sorry if I led you to believe otherwise. (Now I lowkey wish she was a witch cuz that’d actually be an interesting dynamic for how she’d interact with Mammon and his side of the family if she and Satan were to attend a family get together, due to the situation with Cyrus and Mammon’s just general aversion/dislike of witches. Idk maybe the next partner will be a witch)

Solomon is a part of the universe but just not all the time. He’s off doing whatever it is that Solomon does and only reappears when I need him for something regarding Zulima and Asmo or I’m writing about something big happening in the magical world that Arella might seek counsel in him for.

I wish people were interested more in next gen stuff too but I think that’s more of an issue with all anime fandoms in general now. (I feel like it was like a decade ago that you couldn’t turn around without somebody having a next gen oc for any fandom really and now it’s not so much like that any more… oh how the times have changed…)

[theblurbwitchproject]

Ghostbird by Carol Lovekin

Published: March 17, 2016 Publisher: Honno Press

The Author

In her own words Carol Lovekin writes “stories that touch on the Welsh Gothic and its most powerful motif: the ghost. They concern the nature of magic and how it threads through the fabric of our lives. I explore possibilities: the fine line between the everyday and the time-shifting world of enchantment. My books are also firmly rooted in reality. I write about family relationships: how people, women in particular, respond to loss and how they survive. I set my stories in Wales, where I’ve lived for several decades: a place whose legends and landscapes inform my writing.”

˗ˏˋ ´ˎ˗

The Story

Nothing hurts like not knowing who you are. Nobody will tell Cadi anything about her father and her sister. Her mother Violet believes she can only cope with the past by never talking about it. Lili, Cadi’s aunt, is stuck in the middle, bound by a promise she shouldn’t have made. But this summer, Cadi is determined to find out the truth.

In a world of hauntings and magic, in a village where it rains throughout August, as Cadi starts on her search, the secrets and the ghosts begin to wake up. None of the Hopkins women will be able to escape them.

˗ˏˋ ´ˎ˗

The Vibe: small welsh village, gossipy locals, magical realism, everyday magic, family secrets, small town, LGBTQ+ subplot

The Style: beautiful prose, standalone, multiple POVs, character driven, coming of age

Trigger Warnings: child neglect, child death, suicide, depression

˗ˏˋ ´ˎ˗

The Review

From the very first page Ghostbird captured my imagination. The prose is so beautifully crafted that it felt special from the start. As I said my my last review, I’m always looking for the next Practical Magic, and this novel is the closest to Alice Hoffman’s gorgeous writing style that I’ve yet come across. I highlighted so many quotes during my read through that it was hard to choose just three to include in this review.

The plot revolves around Cadi, a fourteen year old girl who desperately wants a deeper understanding of her past, and primarily of her father and sister who both died in circumstances that her mother refuses to disclose. Violet, Cadi’s mother, is very clearly depressed and a rather cold woman, so Cadi spends a lot of time at the house next door where her aunt Lilli, her father’s sister, lives in a gorgeous witchy cottage that has been in their family for generations. Violet has forbidden Lilli from sharing any details about the family history with Cadi, which all comes to a head over the course of the story. Living in a small Welsh village where gossip is rife doesn’t help matters; Cadi knows that everyone else is privy to her business and is further alienated by this fact. Lovekin’s prose envelopes us in this world, at times both magical and aching with loneliness.

“The rain whispered against the window. A shiver ran down Cadi’s back, and for a second she saw her ghost-face in the glass. This time it was made of meadowsweet and lavender, and a solitary tea towel left hanging on the washing line.”

There are a number of references to character’s reflections in the story, a device which I found added to the introspective tone with a somewhat magical touch. Cadi feels like part of herself is missing; she doesn’t really know who she is, and frequently examines herself as a ghostly form in windows and screens, part-girl, part-background. She can’t be a fully realised person until she understands why her mother is so cold, how her father died and what happened to her sister.

Cadi’s aunt Lilli (short for Lilwen) desperately wants to help her niece understand her families’ past, but holds true to the promise she made to her sister in law and doesn’t spill the beans. Lilli is the witchiest character in the story, and also the most likeable. (Honestly, I found myself enjoying her subplot more than the main storyline.) Amongst Lilli’s overgrown witches’ garden, in Cadi’s lonely bedroom, and the mysterious lake that she is drawn to, the family history begins to unfold.

Lovekin really captures small internal moments that we all experience beautifully; “Light like bee pollen caught in the fine hairs on her bare arm.” I seriously can’t explain how gorgeous her prose is. She also utilises a literary device that I can’t help but love by making use of weather and nature to punctuate dramatic moments or plot points. Frequent unseen bird calls, and a silent barn owl (or ghost-bird), increase the mystery as Cadi begins seeing a ghostly little girl in and around her house.

“A place this old must surely be a few parts magic, and who knew what ancient charms clung to the brickwork? Old wisdom attached itself, collected in puddles, slipped under eaves and down chimneys. Wild magic loitered in lanes, cunning as magpies. If it danced by the door, the village knew the wisest move was to drop the latch. Myths were entwined with reality as tightly as the honeysuckle around the cottage doors.

One of my favourite features of Ghostbird was Lovekin’s use of Welsh phrases, like “cariad bach”, which translates as “little love”. I live pretty close to Wales myself but have very little knowledge of the language, so it was nice to learn some new words and phrases. I’m also obsessed with some of the Welsh names she included: Morwenna, Gwenllian, Pomona, Lilwen? So cute!

My one negative critique was Violet, and to a lesser extent Cadi’s, attitudes.  They both got a little grating as the book went on. Now, I get where Cadi is coming from and she is only 14 years old, but Violet is at points almost irredeemably selfish and overly dramatic. I actually don’t think I’ve disliked a book character more, and that’s saying something. I understand that her past was difficult, but many of the trigger warnings for this book revolve around Violet, and her terrible treatment of her daughter. I feel that the frequent arguments around Cadi wanting to understand her past and Violet refusing to tell her got a bit repetetive, but that was my only real issue with an otherwise beautiful story. I won’t reveal any more of the plot here; it wouldn’t do the book justice. All I can say is, if you like the sound of gentle meadowsweet scents and awaking to a bedroom covered in myserious feathers and leaves, this novel is for you.

“From the first day of August until the last, it rained at least once a day in the village. When the sun broke through, people caught their breath, marvelled at the glimmer turning raindrops to treasure.”

Lovekin’s writing is very special and this novel was a delight to read. I found myself scrolling her Goodreads profile and adding pretty much every other novel she’s written to my TBR list. If any of them are as magically written as Ghostbird, it will be well worth giving them a try.

Rating: 🌕🌕🌕🌕🌑

[Goodreads]

[imaginefan]

You Don't Like Witches

Klaus Mikaelson X Fem!Reader Lucien Castle X Fem!Reader (mentioned.)

Word Count: 840

Requested: Anon

Request: Having a thing for Lucien but Klaus doesn't want you to be with him because he likes you but he doesn't want to admit it but his brother's and sister's know it cause it's obvious but reader witch doesn't see it. One shot the originals. :)

You had known the Mikaelsons for a long time now, you had helped each of them with some kind of problem and when they found out about Hope, they called you to New Orleans to help confirm the pregnancy and then protect the baby.

You had been in New Orleans for months now and that was when Lucien showed up. Klaus had always been an interest of yours but he never seemed to be interested in you and due to his deep mistrust and dislike of witches you figured the best that you could get was friends and Lucien, he was offering you something more than friends.

Klaus seemed to pick up your attitude toward Lucien and decided to confront you about it “what is going on with you and Lucien?” He asked. “What are you talking about, there's nothing going on.” You answered “sorry there’s no relationship for you to manipulate.” “What are you talking about?” Klaus asked “that’s not why I’m asking but he is the enemy.” “You were an enemy once…” You reminded him and he narrowed his eyes on you. “And yet you didn’t try to jump into my bed.” Klaus sneered. “‘M not trying to jump into his bed.” You said through gritted teeth as you finally turned to look at him, his arms were crossed over his chest and you decided that this conversation was going to get you nowhere so instead you walked towards the courtyard where the others had been waiting and likely listening in.

Klaus watched you walk away and go straight to Lucien “nicely handled brother.” Elijah said as he walked up to him. “Enough.” Klaus warned him. “If you want to keep her then you have to tell her otherwise he’ll get her.” Elijah said. “He’s right, you know… She really likes you, otherwise she wouldn’t still be here, no witch has put up with you for this long.” Kol reminded him and he glared at the both of them before looking back down at you, you were walking over to greet Hayley who was holding Hope, the little girl leaned over immediately to fall into your arms and you accepted the affection readily. “Plus she’s good with your daughter, surely that’s worth something.” Kol added as he walked away from his clueless older brother to see his niece.

“Why is your brother burning a hole into the back of my head?” You asked as Kol came to stand next to you. “He’s working something out.” Kol answered. “Does it involve the 100 different ways that he could kill me?” You asked. “Actually quite the opposite.” Kol assured you as he glanced behind you at Klaus, you assumed though you would never turn to look at him. “He’s really staring, did you do something?” Hayley asked. “Apparently he doesn’t like it when I talk to other people.” You answered. “That’s not surprising, he is territorial.” Hayley shrugged “I think it’s the wolf part.” “Stop that.” You ordered “he’s not territorial, he just doesn’t want me talking to the enemy.” “The enemy he lets in his house? Not much of a threat.” She smirked and you narrowed your eyes at her. “Both of you stop, both of them can hear you.” You reminded them and they both looked at you. “I know.” They both said at the same time.

You were putting Hope down for the night after getting her to go to sleep while Klaus dealt with the clean up for the day. “She’s asleep?” Klaus asked as he appeared at the door. “Yeah she’s just fallen asleep.” You answered as you pulled the covers up over her and made sure that her favourite teddy was within reach. “Can I have a word?” He asked and you looked at him and nodded. “Sure.” You answered “as long as you're going to talk to me and reprimand me for the company I keep.” “I wanted to apologise, I should not have told you what friends you can have.” He said and you raised an eyebrow. “You never apologise are you sick or something? Can hybrids even get sick?” You asked walking forward until you were close enough to put your hand on his forehead. Klaus rolled his eyes and caught your wrist pulling you closer while directing your hand away from his head. “Just accept the apology.” He ordered. “Or..?” You asked. “Or I’ll have to try something a little more convincing, little witch.” He answered moving closer. “More convincing?” You asked, he smirked as he leaned forward pressing a kiss to your lips, it was quick, you assumed he was teasing but you followed his lips all the same. “Give me a chance to prove that I can give you everything that you want and more.” He pleaded. “You actually want to do that?” You asked. “Why wouldn’t I?” He asked. “You don’t like witches.” You frowned. “I like some of them, you are one of them.” He smiled, pressing a kiss to your temple as you hugged him.

Requests and general question!

[queen-of-deans-booty]

Man's Best Friend with Benefits: Part One

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~2.1k

!! Warnings: stillborn, baby in dies in womb, trauma associated with that, explicit (minor) talk of baby dying, heartbreak, really heavy angst, canon angst and violence !!

Author’s Note: I do not own anything from Supernatural. All credit goes to their respective owners. Any and all comments on these are appreciated.

"Help me, please! It's my wife!" Dean yells as he barges through the doors of the hospital.

The nurses drop what they're doing to help Dean, wheeling over a portable hospital bed to set you down on. Joanna is in Sam's arms with no clue what is going on, Sam is trying not to panic and freak out his niece, but Dean is a complete mess. He has tears rolling down his face, his hands are shaking, and his heart is racing a million miles a second.

"Sir, we need you to calm down. What happened?" one of the nurses asks him.

"Please help her. She can't die. She fell down and she won't wake up."

A couple of doctors aid the nurses in wheeling you into a room to assess the damages without Dean present. Two nurses hold Sam and Dean back, and he watches as you disappear into the examination room with a bunch of nurses and doctors.

"Sir, could you please tell me what happened?"

"I'm not sure. My daughter said she fell. She was just doing laundry. I don't know how she fell. Please save her. She's pregnant with twins," Dean begs.

"I can assure you that the doctors are going to do everything they possibly can to save all three of them. Please, let's get you checked in, and we will be able to move forward from there."

Sam waits in the waiting room with Joanna while Dean checks in, and once he's finished, he joins Sam. Dean rests his elbows on his thighs, puts his head in the palms of his hands, and just cries. Sam has never seen his brother like this before. He knows how much Dean loves you and his children, but this is just heartbreaking.

"I can't lose her, Sam," Dean sniffles. "I can't lose any of them."

"Let's just wait until the doctor comes out. She's going to be just fine. She's the Sapphire Witch. She'll be just fine."

"Shit, I forgot about James." James is a cop that asked Sam and Dean for help on a case. He didn't leave a detailed message, but if he asked Sam and Dean for help, it has to be monster related. "I can't go, Sammy."

"We'll figure it out."

Joanna fusses and begins to cry. She hasn't eaten anything since you got home from the previous case, and she is getting cranky. All of her toys and snacks are in the Impala, giving Dean the opportunity to escape the hospital even for a little bit.

"Her stuff is in the car," Dean sniffles and grabs his daughter from Sam. Both Sam and Dean get up and leave the hospital to head to the car. "I can't believe this is happening right now."

"Are we calling James, then?"

"No, not right now. I have to know what is wrong with Y/N before we do anything."

Dean opens the back door of the car and sets Joanna on the ground before getting her bag that has all of her toys and snacks in it. He doesn't know how long he's going to be staying here, so he wants to be prepared for anything.

"I wonder what he wanted. We owe him for saving our asses."

Dean shuts the door just as a Doberman dog runs up to Sam and jumps on him.

"It's a puppy!" Joanna grins.

"She has no tags. I wonder where her owners are."

The dog jumps back down and before their very eyes, the dog transforms into a slender dark-skinned woman with a red collar around her neck. Sam and Dean jump back as Dean grabs his daughter to protect her and Sam unsheathes his knife.

"Who the hell are you?"

"Not a shapeshifter, so you can stash the blade. I'm a familiar."

"A what?"

"A companion to a witch--some witches. They split their time between human and animal form," Sam explains.

"I get a more accurate read on people in my other persona. Approaching guys in a hospital parking lot like this can get complicated. My name's Portia. I belong to James Frampton."

"No, that doesn't work for us because that would mean our friend is a witch," Dean shakes his head.

"Wow, you're quick," Portia says sarcastically.

"James is a fucking witch?"

"He wasn't one when you met him, but that last case you worked on with him, he wanted to learn more about the black arts and witchcraft. It became the center of his life."

"Wait, so you're telling me that James, the cop, became a witch because of us?" Dean scoffs.

"You don't like dogs, do you?" Portia grins, and Dean rolls his eyes.

"Is James still a cop?" Sam asks.

"He's a homicide detective. His new powers make his work even better."

"What does he need from us?" Sam asks.

"Well, something's been happening to him. It started with excruciating headaches, screaming sounds in his ears, and horrible nightmares. He wasn't able to sleep or think. He can't work. It's like he's having a breakdown. Maybe you can find a way to help him."

"So, he thinks these dreams are real? He thinks that he is actually killing people?" Dean asks, trying to wrap his head around this.

He has too much on his plate right now to be thinking rationally about this.

"I think so. At least that's what I picked up before he started blocking me," Portia sighs.

"What does that mean, blocking you?"

"Familiars and their masters can communicate telepathically. I can get inside of James' head anytime I want, but he shut me out."

"You think maybe there's something in there he doesn't want you to see?"

"Possibly something dark, you know, that's destroying him. He can't go to the police, and he doesn't trust other witches."

"You're saying he trusts us? You do know who we are, right? We're the last people that somebody like James needs to be telling his troubles to," Dean sighs.

"This was my idea. I was the one who sent you the text under James' name. He doesn't know you're here, but I think you're maybe all he has."

"I can't leave, Sammy," Dean says emotionally. "I can't leave Y/N knowing she is here like this."

"It's okay, I'll call Garth. He'll understand and work it with me. I'll call with updates as long as you do the same."

"Yeah," Dean whispers.

Dean tosses his brother his keys since he grabbed everything he needs out of it. Sam and Portia get into the car. Sam takes out his phone and calls Garth, grateful that he answers on the first ring.

"Hey Sam, what's up?"

"I need your help on a case."

"What's wrong with Dean?"

"Y/N is in the hospital. It's not looking good, so I need you to help me with this one. Dean is out of commission right now."

"Yeah, of course. Send me the deets."

"Thanks, Garth."

Dean watches his brother drive off with a sometimes dog, and he scoops Joanna into his arms while she snacks on something. As soon as he enters, he sees one of the doctors asking around for whoever came in with you.

"For Y/N? Anyone here for Y/N?"

"That's me," Dean says quickly and jogs over to him. "Is she okay? Are my kids?"

"Come with me. It's best if we talk in here."

The doctor leads Dean to an empty conference room where he can talk freely about your condition without anyone overhearing them. Dean sets Joanna on the table, and she nibbles on her snack while playing with her dolls. She doesn't know what is going on, and it breaks Dean's heart knowing she doesn't understand what might be happening.

"Please, is my wife going to be okay?" Dean keeps it together for the sake of Joanna.

"You said she fell? What did she fall on?"

"I don't know. Maybe the washing machine?"

"From our initial CT scan, we noticed she has a cranial bleed that will need immediate surgery. She is being wheeled down as we speak, and I will be performing her surgery. If we can stop it from getting worse, I hope for her to make a full recovery."

"What about my kids?"

"Due to your wife's condition, the babies need to be born today through a C-section. We have a pediatric surgeon on stand-by for when that will happen. They will be born two months early, so they are both going to be placed in the NICU for two months as we monitor their progress."

"Okay," Dean whispers.

"I'll give you some privacy. I will be out as soon as we have more information for you."

The doctor leaves the room to give Dean some time alone. Dean wants to cry for you, but he knows that if he starts doing this, it's only going to freak Joanna out.

"I want mama," she says.

"Mama is going to be okay. I promise. Mama is just sleeping right now. She'll wake up soon."

How can he expect to think about Sam and Garth when he knows you're lying inside an OR waiting to get operated on? Sam can handle this kind of case, no doubt, but he still worries about his little brother. In fact, when Sam and Garth got to Portia's house, they weren't the most welcome by James.

"You had no right to do this!" James yells at Portia.

They are in the kitchen while Sam and Garth are waiting in the living room, but they can still hear them.

"I was afraid for your life!"

"My life is none of their business!"

Portia gets so angry that she turns back into a Doberman and storms out of the room. She looks at Sam and Garth before leaving the room altogether. James walks into the living room, and both Sam and Garth stand up to greet him.

"Sam, Garth."

"Why don't you tell us about these dreams? She said people were dying in them," Sam says in understanding.

"Dying? They were torn to bits. I could feel my fingers rip into their flesh."

"But they were dreams?" Garth asks.

"Well, I woke up in my bed. I'm not sure if they are dreams or not. I know these people died, though. I checked with the precinct."

"Maybe you heard it, and it stuck in your head. We can't jump to conclusions," Sam says.

"You don't think I told myself all that? You don't think I didn't say, 'that wasn't me. I couldn't have done such a thing'?"

James walks over to the table where his bag is sitting. He unzips a pouch and pulls out a blood-stained shirt he found in his trash can after having the dream about killing someone.

"Is it yours?"

"James Martin Frampton," James shows them the initials embroidered on the pocket. "What is happening to me?"

"Maybe you pissed off another witch, and he or she hexed you and forced you to kill those people?"

"It's possible, I suppose, but I never heard of it."

"How many of these dreams have you had?" Garth wonders.

"Four. The most recent one was last night. It was a blind man. I was choking him, and, uh..."

"Alright, James," Sam cuts him off seeing how distressed he is about this, "we're going to help you figure this out. If we're going to help you, you need to help us."

"How?"

"House arrest, my friend," Garth grins, tossing a duffel bag of witch-proof chains onto the ground in front of him.

James wants to know who is doing this to him, so he has no issue chaining himself up. If someone else dies, and he is chained up the entire time, then someone is doing this to him. Someone is framing him for these murders, and that would prove that another witch is involved.

Sam and Garth need to do some research in case James isn't lying, so for the time being, they are hanging out in a motel nearby.

"How is Y/N doing? What happened?" Garth asks innocently.

"She fell and hit her head against the laundry machine. We don't know much except for it's a big deal. I'm not sure what's going to happen with her or the twins. I wanted to be with Dean, but I know he wouldn't forgive me if I didn't help James."

"My thoughts and prayers are with her."

"Thanks," Sam whispers. Sam takes out his laptop while Garth has loads of newspapers, files, and other things associated with the case. "So, I just got to the crime-scene reports, and they are exactly the same as James told us about the vics, dates, and locations. The most recent one was a blind man, just like he said."

"That's not good," Garth sighs.

"Also, I looked into his record on the force. He went from rookie detective to lieutenant basically overnight, and in the last four years, his solve rate's been right at about 100%."

"If he's been using his magic, it's obvious that he would have that success rate."

Sam stares at his laptop, but he isn't thinking about the case. He's thinking about you and his niece and nephew. As if on cue, his phone rings, and it's a message from Dean.

She is being taken into surgery. Will update you later.

x

Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary​​​​ where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

[elizabethshelby]

The Making of Elizabeth Shelby

Dear diary,

Charles asked me the other day when I knew I loved his father, I said, I knew him since we were little, little like him and Ruby. I didn’t answer his question because I didn’t know how much of our childhood Tommy wanted to be kept secret.

I felt horrible for lying to him; but Nonetheless, My mind immediately went to my childhood, my childhood with the Shelby’s and most importantly, my wedding day. Arthur was drunk and so insistent on speaking from the heart and not having his speech be pre written or micromanaged by Tommy. I didn’t care what Arthur was going to say if he spoke about something he shouldn’t have, it would be about Tommy, not me. Tommy O.B.E soon to be M.P was worried about his reputation. Deep down he really didn’t care about what these House of Commons and House of Lords people had to say after all his winning was guaranteed. But Arthur, He spoke beautifully, not his mumbling, grunting self. Although it was short it was Arthur, a man that said so little but meant a lot. Tom was so mad, irritated when Arthur stood up, but I put my hand on his thigh and whispered in his ear and told him to let him speak, let him have his moment, I repeated.“Tom and Lil Lizzie, how far have we come,eh? Raised in the wild mountains to the streets of small heath, running around with our John and Ada getting into trouble already thinking we were the peaky blinders already, untouchable, us. It seems Lizzie was always meant to be my sister, isn’t that right John boy. Ah anyway, here’s to Lizzie our Angel,and my younger brother Tommy.” It’s funny he’s the only person to ever call me Angel,even when we were kids.

I got sad when Arthur mentioned John, I haven’t thought of sweet John for years, I tried not to, it hurt less that way. I loved John and I’ll always cherish the times I spent with him and his children, but I’ll have to keep that to myself. Tommy didn’t like the reminder I almost went off with his brother a few years back. He got over that pretty quickly. I remember thinking how good it was that Esme wasn’t there otherwise she would’ve cut me or taken my eyes, even on my wedding day. Luckily it went off without any business, or anyone eyes being taken.

Charlie, I know that you read my diary, and you read it to Ruby as if it were a nighttime story. I’m not mad,I think it’s quite cute, at least your reading eh? But next time ask! Children, I do love your father and I always have. Ever since, I first saw him and those damned blue eyes and that devilish smirk of his. It’s easier to write this down than to tell you in person. So,Ruby and Charlie this is for you.

Dear children,

It all started in the year 1901, I was just 7 years young(just like you Ruby) and there had been talk about Polly and Mr. Greys nephews and niece coming. It’s no big secret that Mr Grey and Polly were in charge of the peaky blinders and in charge of the betting shop. Polly’s brother, Arthur had just lost his wife and needed someone to help raise his newborn son. Polly had just lost Mr.Grey, it seemed fitting at the time Polly losing her two children and husband to only gain 5 children and a long lost brother.

Everyone used to say your aunt Polly was a gypsy witch, of course that was just something your aunt, my older sister would say to scare me, so not everyone. She also used to say the children that were coming were wild gypsy boys that behaved and acted like animals. They were unable to speak, read or write because they were “wild gypsies”. They were wild but I didn’t know that yet, and they could read and write even better then Helen, which she was envious of.

The day came, everyone came out to see the wild gypsies come out of their caravan. It was almost like the king himself came, everyone came to see who these gypsies were, what they looked liked, how they acted, were we better then them or were they better than us? No one wanted their eyes to be taken so they were met with a bunch of pastries, clothes, flowers, even cheers which you don’t get in small heath. Of course one thing above all that everyone knew to get the peaky blinders, Irish whiskey and Lorillard cigarettes.

I was too scared to be front and center like the rest of small heath so I decided the safest place was to hide behind my sister.

One by one I saw them come out,first was a little girl probably around 4 years young, who was later called Ada and more scary than all the boys combined. She jumped off the caravan like nothing in the world scared her and most importantly she walked like she owned the street and no one could mess with her. Next, Arthur Jr 14 years old, holding baby Finn. Then came out this bashful, cocky, likes to make a big entrance boy probably around my age later to be known as John, Arthur Sr quickly swatted John off the steps to step down, but I’ll never forget Arthur Sr’s face when he saw small health for the first time almost like he knew it was ready for taking, quickly that eagerness changed to anger yelling ”Thomas Michael Shelby! get out here right now!!”

This Thomas Michael came down with his arms crossed mixed with anger and sadness, just like his father, but the moment he stepped off of the caravan it was like he knew he belonged there with the confidence of Ada and the cockiness of John. He knew this was his kingdom. 11 years young (like you Charlie)and he smirked and held himself like he was a king. He looked around at all the new sights and people but then we made eye contact for the first time and I saw those bright blue eyes, those damned blue eyes and he smirked at little ol me, me who was hiding behind Helen. I didn’t know what todo so I stepped from behind her and smiled.

Oh for weeks the Shelby’s were almost like the queens and kings of small heath, but that quickly faded when small heath realized they only welcomed more peaky blinders devils.

Notes: Chapter: ⅓

I changed the ages of the Shelby’s and Lizzie, not by much.

Tommy and his siblings were wild gypsies until they moved to small heath.

This is done from Lizzie’s pov

Hope you guys enjoy:) P.S this is my first ever fanfic or attempt at writing something like this. Bare with me if it sucks.

[neon-green-reagent]

Just Some Skinamarink Thoughts

I watched the movie during all the buzz. But like most people who feel like they got it, I can't stop thinking about it. I watched it the way I feel you should. I concentrated on it. I didn't let my attention wander. I focused deeply. I let it get under my skin. Then proceeded to have the weirdest panic attack I've ever had post-viewing. Firstly, horror movies don't give me panic attacks, so this was a singular kind of experience. Also, it wasn't until much latter that I realized my manic running around the house and laughing hysterically and making my niece come downstairs so I could regale her with a recap was... panic. Disguised as excitement that made it nearly impossible to sleep. The movie got to me.

If you are willing to take the time, the core story reveals itself. It's dark as shit. Again, I'm not talking about the cinematography. I'm talking about what happens to the kids, especially Kevin. I'm not here to do a SKINAMARINK EXPLAINED! I'm just saying what I got out of it was... Kevin is in a kind of hell now. And he's just a baby, so what kind of understanding of that hell can he even have, which makes it even worse. It wasn't just visuals, is the point I'm trying to make. It fucked with me more deeply than that.

I can honestly say it's one of the most powerful horror film experiences I've ever had, and I admire it a great deal. I also will never watch it again. Maybe in ten years when my memories are fuzzy and I'm trying to recall exactly what it was about it that made me feel like getting my house blessed. But this is not the kind of film I find rewatchable. Just my very biased opinion.

In digesting all of this, I realized something. What the hell is Kyle Edward Ball supposed to do next? In directing Skinamarink, he divided horror fans straight down the middle. He rocked the industry, and whether you like it or not, Skinamarink is going to be talked about among films like Texas Chainsaw Massacre, Halloween, Eraserhead, The Blair Witch Project, Psycho... You know, the ones that made filmmakers make their films differently forever after. The reason we have sudden BOOMS in a certain kind of film, for better or for worse. There will be imitators. It will become trendy. Even if just on the indie scene, especially because movies like Skinamarink aren't expensive to make compared to the Hollywood machine.

So is he supposed to make another Skinamarink? I think most people would NOT recommend that. Because at this point, it so split audiences I think he'd automatically have half of the people he had in the first place just from buzz. He has to know that. Directors read reviews. So then... do you make a narrative film? With a normal set of characters and a story like everyone else? Does anyone especially want to see the Skinamarink guy do that? He appears to have skills, but Skinamarink is so incredibly experimental, it makes it hard to tell if those skills would lend themselves to non-experimental film-making. If he made a normal narrative film like every other Joe Shmo, would he fall on his face?

And I bet you dollars to donuts he's asking himself this very same stuff RIGHT NOW. *Twilight Zone Music* This leads into another question. Do you take a break after kicking horror in the face this hard? Do you wait? Should you strike while the iron is hot before they call you a one hit wonder and forget your name?

Honestly, I feel bad for this cat. Following this act is going to be a feat. If he has more nightmares to share, I'll watch them. He's intrigued me with his work more than I can say. I just hope this process and the aftermath hasn't chewed him up and spit him out. Because critics and that Hollywood machine I mentioned earlier are not gentle.