#(though perhaps those would be more entertaining if u are watching it while high lmao. i’ll never know)

[dashiellqvverty]

looking at negative reviews of drive away dolls and so many of them are so ridiculous <3 it is by no means a perfect film and very much not for everyone like you do not Have To Like it... but so many of the takes are just like "ugh of course this was made by A Straight Man" (and the ppl who acknowledge, but cannot wrap their heads around, whatever ethan coen and tricia cooke have going on). like people are DISGUSTED by it and particularly t.e/rf/s of course (bc it "centers men/penises") and its like.... sorry you hate fun idk

[allforthecourtt]

rereading aftg with my dumbass opinions pt. 2 (tfc chapters 6-10)

pt. 1 | pt. 2 | pt. 3

look guys! its the highly unanticipated continuation of my reread of aftg!

chapter 6 (aka. meet this MESS of a team)

“My mother's family is French." It was a lie that probably had his British mother rolling over in her sandy grave.”

neil really never misses an opportunity to remind readers that he fucking buried his mom on the beach huh?

“A liar who practices occasional honesty. Clever. Keeps people guessing. Very effective. I would know. I do it myself, you see. Come on, then. After you.”

have i mentioned how entertaining high andrew is? because he’s funny as hell

also rereading these are fun because Nora is incredible at foreshadowing just sayin

“Neil automatically reached for his seatbelt, but one of the brothers was sitting on it.”

how neil would be in the back of the cousins’ car if they let him:

“You?" Neil said. "You can't." Andrew's smile curved wider. "Ohhh, that sounds like a challenge. Mother may I?" "Your mother's dead. I don't think she cares what you do.”

HO HO HOLY SHIT NEIL

“Starting a fight was too out of character for who he portrayed "Neil” to be, though.”

“Consider this your official invite, you suicidal wretch. I'm bringing you to Columbia with us this Friday.”

awe suicidal wretch... glad they’re starting those pet names early

“I don't drink or dance," Neil said.

andrew: i kno u can

“Kevin doesn't dance anymore”

anymore? ANYMORE??? release the cursed events that led to him not dancing anymore Nora im begging you

“Are you bleeding anywhere?" Matt asked. "Nowhere vital," Neil said.

gskjgnsak god i stan this little asshole so much

“She said it gently, with the hint of a smile on her face, but Neil still felt the rebuke. It was subtler but somehow deadlier”

have i mentioned how gay i am for renee? because im very gay for renee

“Allison looked ready for a photo shoot with perfect platinum curls, spiked heels, and a skintight dress.”

im also gay for allison ngl

“I can move if you want to sit here," Neil said. "No, this is fine." She smiled, but it had a smug edge to it, probably because Seth was glaring at them like he could kill them with willpower alone. ”

lol remember how neil doesn’t think he’s attractive and yet in 0.1 seconds after meeting him allison is like “yes this idiot is hot enough to piss off the other idiot im dating”

“Personal favorite was when someone told the police we were running a meth lab out of the dorm," Dan said sourly. "Police raids are awesome.”

no offence dan but that’s fucking hilarious omg

that’s kind of like the time my residence floor had to get evacuated bc some kids hotboxed their dorm room

god i love uni

“The death threats were creative, though," Nicky said. "Maybe this time they'll follow through and actually kill one of us. Let's vote. I nominate Seth.”

pfffffttttt i love Nicky omg

also hahahahahah foreshadowing!

“It'll be fine," Andrew said. "I promised, didn't I? Don't you believe me?" It took a while, but at last Kevin visibly relaxed. ”

again this is why i thought they were fucking for like the better part of the first two books

“The dead look Kevin turned on Andrew today was the same look Neil saw in his reflection. When Neil stopped acting, when he stopped worrying about who was watching, when he let go of the lies that kept him alive, that was the only expression he could make.”

it’s fine i didnt need a heart anyways

this kid is 18 hes A BABY

the first time i read this i was 18 too and like jfc i was a BABY at 18 and so i neil

“One of us has to make it, Mom." It wasn't going to be Neil. It was obvious he was too stupid to survive without his mother if he let himself get into messes like this. But maybe Kevin could do it.”

sorry let me just wipe my TEARS off my fucking laptop neil honey what the fuck

“He felt distant as he watched them walk in. Maybe he was already dying, his stupid soul fading from his short body in preparation for a brutal end.”

neil we get it you have depression (me too bitch u aint special)

“Fuck running," Seth said.

now that’s a whole ass mood

“he didn't know how Renee could smile so warmly when she was speaking to Andrew.”

haha bitch just wait

“when he slept, he dreamed of his father waiting for him on the Foxhole Court.”

remember how at the end of the series his father is waiting on the court but neil wins??? god we love good storytelling

this is such a fucking wild chapter

could you imagine? coming back from the summer and your first introduction to this amateur from arizona is this neil josten level of sass? because i’d probably kill him

first years are bad enough but first years who dont care about other people’s opinions? the fucking worst

chapter 7 (aka. neil does NOT have a fun night out)

“It seemed Allison and Seth didn't believe in middle ground: either they were slinging vile insults at each other or they were making out in the locker room regardless of whoever might be around.”

that’s just how the straights are

“It reminded Neil a little of Allison and Seth, except without the desperate sexual undertones.”

i’ll just leave this gem of a line here

“His teammates held so little regard for him he didn't even have the dubious honor of being dead last.”

neil shading himself is actually hilarious how relatable

“Neil watched him do it, trying to remember the last time someone gave him a gift and coming up blank. That his first one should be from Andrew was unsettling.”

i actually love the fact that andrew bought him clothes so early on like andrew your gay is showing

“Neil debated how much damage the thick heels of his new boots would do against Andrew's face and liked what his mind came up with.”

i thank god everyday that these books are neil’s pov

“Andrew gave Neil another slow once-over and let go. "We're going.”

^andrew seeing neil w/o contacts (aka. the ‘i can’t think straight’ vine)

“Most of the men wore leather, half the women had corsets, and a good number of both genders were covered in buckles and chains.”

this... is a... gay bar

“Andrew saluted the bouncers on his way by and led the way into the club, bypassing the line entirely.”

i always forget the drinking age in the us is 21 but like this bar really dont care about their liquor license AT ALL lmao

“You think Kevin would risk his future over a night out at the club?" "What future?" Neil asked.”

WOW NEIL WAY TO BE A BITCH

“Neil hadn't seen Aaron get up, but he was waiting behind Neil when Andrew let go. Neil reached for Andrew with lethal intent, but Aaron grabbed the back of his chair and pulled hard enough to topple it over.”

why are the twins literally this gif:

real talk nicky kissing neil like that is horrible and really reflects poorly on nicky as a character

andrew for this entire chapter:

chapter 8 (aka. a hitchhiker’s guide to lying about your identity)

“I don't know how your conversation with Andrew went, but it didn't end well. Rumor has it you paid a busboy a hundred bucks to knock you out. Way to cut our night short.”

this is probably my favourite thing neil does in the entire series ngl

“Wymack grabbed his elbow and hauled him inside. He slowed just long enough to slam the door behind Neil. "Are you stupid or just crazy? Do you have any idea what could have happened to you between here and there? What were you thinking?”

Why does Wymack literally sound like my father?

foxes: daddy?

wymack: DO I LOOK LIKE

follow up:

kevin: daddy?

wymack: uh yeah

“I don't know what the beef is between you two, but it ends here and now.”

Wymack @ neil: tell your boyfriend, if he says he’s got beef that your a vegetarian and your not fucking scared of him

“Then correct me." "Give me a reason." "Besides the obvious?" Andrew said. "If I can't get an answer from you, I'll get it wherever I can.”

andrew:

“I'm—" Neil didn't want to say it, but the word was already there, broken and pathetic between them, "—nothing. I'll always have and be nothing.”

“He wondered for a moment if Andrew could handle the entire truth so calmly, but that was too dangerous and stupid to consider.”

“Hope was a dangerous, disquieting thing, but he thought perhaps he liked it.”

this is such a good fucking line like i am shooketh

chapter 9 (aka. neil is, like, really horny for exy)

“Are you stupid?" Seth asked. "Yeah," Neil said.”

what a fuckin MOOD

“Neil had almost forgotten why he liked Exy so much. He did his best at practices but these days he worked mostly to keep his teammates off his back. As Neil surveyed Kevin's damage, he finally felt inspired again. On its heels was a hungry, desperate rush.”

“Seth made as if to throw his beer at Neil. "His life is not more important than mine just because he's more talented.”

sometimes i really wish seth was actually given a chance to have some character development

“ "Maybe you're not as stupid as I thought." "Maybe I am," Neil said”

another big fucking MOOD

chapter 10 (aka. shocking: university is hard :/ )

“It's fun telling Kevin no," Andrew said with a wicked grin.”

why is andrew like this omg

betsy probably was like just looking for a chill job and was like “oh cool uni students? ill have to deal with like a lot of anxiety, sexual tension, depression and like confusion about the future, not to bad” but NOPE welcome to the fucking MAFIA WARS

“That wasn't so bad, was it? Andrew was convinced it would be a disaster. He put money on you hating Betsy." "Did you bet against him?" "Yes," Renee said. "It was a private bet between the two of us.”

“I hope you didn't lose much," Neil said.”

god why is he such an asshole at every opportunity i love him

“I can take care of myself," Neil said. "Watch me beam with pride.”

wymack is the best father in the world and you cant convince me otherwise

“There was one for every fall team with schedules printed on each. Neil kept the Exy one, tossed the rest into the trash, and buried his magnet deep in his pocket where he didn't have to look at the dates.”

neil “i only care about exy” josten strikes again with his great school spirit

“Palmetto State was facing Edgar Allan on Friday, October 13th”

that’s such a cliche and i love it

“He detoured around students toward one of Palmetto State's three dining halls. Two were for the general student body. The third was for athletes only”

lmao my school literally has one dining hall and it couldnt give less of a fuck what type of student they’re selling food too as long as they’ll pay $15 for chicken fingers

what kind of money does palmetto state fuckin have

like i get us tuition is a lot but jesus so’s mine and my school couldn’t be less fucked

“It was only the first day of school and he already had three assignments: a short paper, a fifty-page chapter to read, and a page of questions about said chapter. Neil debated for a minute as to which one sounded least painful. Five minutes later he was still uninspired, so he put his head down on his desk.”

1. MOOD

2. first years are so cute thinking that’s a lot of assignments i remember in first year being like “i have to read 40 pages thats so unfair :(” and now i’m like “ah sick only 200 pgs of readings this week? im gonna have so much free time!”

upper year history sucks ngl

“I'm fine," Neil said.”

neil knows exactly two (2) words and those are it

“You say that an awful lot," Matt said. "I'm starting to think you don't know what it means.”

overall thoughts:

the plot is pickinnnng upppp

i kind of forget how much world building happens in the first book but like its good

also i love neil literally hating everyone its so funny bc like bby these going to be your best friends just wait

anyways that’s all for now

part 3 will be the rest of tfc and then we’ll move onto trk if you guys still want more of this? let me know

love u all bye

[jennycalendar]

pint-size potential (2/3)

read it here on ao3!

for @theforestlesbian​!! happy birthday alex!! i love u so much that i went back and legit stopped procrastinating on writing this fic.

your birthday present is as follows:

-two new chapters of giles & baby buffy, concluding this fic

-the heartfelt promise that i will continue this story (which was always intended to be a prequel) with a series of fics centering around giles & his small daughter buffy (and probably also willow and xander and jenny. like that’s definitely on the table)

anyway. i very much love you and i shall post the last chapter in a few hours probably but i wanted to start off w this one...it’s been hidden on my computer for literal months lmao

Buffy Anne Summers, aged five-and-a-half months, was sitting on the floor, banging on a pot with her rattle. Giles had propped her up against the wall while he made them both breakfast, figuring that she couldn’t make too much noise with just a rattle, but Buffy had somehow acquired the pot and seemed hell-bent on making as much of a ruckus as possible.

“How did you get that, I put it in a cabinet you can’t reach,” Giles said with mild exasperation, turning to remove the rattle from Buffy’s hand. She uttered an indignant shriek of protest, but let go, smiling widely.

At him.

That was—well.

Giles smiled back, very shyly, and removed the pot from Buffy’s reach, handing her back the rattle. She shook it at him, still smiling as he turned to heat up her formula.

His life wasn’t as quiet as it had been back in England, which was strange to think about when considering the fact that Buffy was the only new person in it. But Giles was learning rapidly that Buffy was a rather bubbly child, very social and playful and incredibly unaware that he wasn’t any of those things. She took up a lot of space in his life with barely any effort.

Turning away from the microwave, Giles lifted Buffy and her rattle up into the new high chair. “There we are,” he said, smoothing down Buffy’s soft, downy hair. Just enough of it had grown for Giles to see clearly that it was coming in blonde. “Now. Are you ready for breakfast?”

This was when the doorbell rang. Buffy squeaked, surprised, and grabbed at Giles’s hand.

Giles, who was learning very fast that Buffy left alone could and would start trying to figure out some most-likely-unsafe way to entertain herself, carefully removed Buffy from her high chair, bouncing her in his arms. She beamed at him. “Yes, hello,” he said, smiling back. “Come on, let’s answer the door, see who it is.”

It was a catalogue. More accurately, it was their mail, but on top of all the mail, there was a family catalogue. Buffy saw the girl in the pink dress on the front of the catalogue and reached for it, very nearly managing to fall out of Giles’s arms. Giles held her very tightly and picked up the catalogue, mostly because he was worried that Buffy might try and figure out how to get to it if he left it outside.

They returned to the kitchen, Buffy squirming in Giles’s arms to try and get a good look at the catalogue. Giles set her back down in the high chair, placing the catalogue on the kitchen counter where Buffy could see it. “Not even a year old and she’s already trying to get me to go shopping,” he said, mouth quirking up in an amused little grin as he handed Buffy her baby formula.

Buffy barely even looked at the bottle, reaching for the catalogue.

“Absolutely not,” said Giles, gentle but firm. “Do you think I don’t know why yesterday’s newspaper is in shreds on the floor in my room?” Nevertheless, he opened the catalogue, flipping absently through the pages. They could do with a changing table, he thought, and a better crib, and perhaps a new stroller, one that didn’t belong to the Council, and—a new high chair, of course, because this one was barely functional.

Buffy grabbed at a page, tearing it.

“Oh, lord,” said Giles, an unpleasant thought occurring to him, “I’m going to have to baby-proof the bookshelves, aren’t I?”

Seemingly unconcerned by Giles’s newfound fear for his rarer volumes, Buffy decided to forgo the catalogue and instead focus in on her bottle, surveying Giles as though trying to figure out why he wasn’t having breakfast himself.

Giles took this as a sign that he should eat, and quickly prepared some cereal. He hadn’t had as much time to cook, lately, but he also hadn’t had as much time to miss it. As he ate, he made a mental list of the day’s activities, which made him feel a bit lighter. Taking Buffy out shopping—that was stressful, but quite fun. Everything was new to her. He was still looking into job applications (there was a position as a museum curator that looked promising), and trying to figure out how to balance said job with raising a child.

He’d heard that other Watchers merely placed protective wards around the house, cast a spell that would take care of all of the baby’s physical needs, and went on with their day, but he couldn’t leave Buffy alone for that long. She thrived on attention and affection, and gave as good as she got. He didn’t think he could leave her isolated, even if he knew she was physically safe.

Buffy cut off Giles’s train of thought by dropping her now-empty bottle from her high chair and laughing as though watching the bottle fall was the height of comedy. Giles finished the last of his cereal, picked up the bottle, and rinsed it out.

Buffy made a small, cross noise and hit her rattle against the tray of the high chair.

“I am not playing that game where you drop your bottle and I give it back,” Giles informed her. “Those were fifteen very frustrating minutes.”

There was silence, and then Buffy made a noise that sounded endearingly like hmph! before going back to shaking her rattle.

Giles was generally a quick shopper, but shopping with Buffy was a thoroughly different experience than shopping by himself. She kept on trying to grab things off the rack, most of which weren’t geared towards children, and ended up grabbing one solitary shoe off one of the shelves while Giles was trying to figure out where the baby section was. This led to a good three minutes of Giles trying to tug the shoe from Buffy, and then five minutes of trying to figure out where she had gotten the shoe from in the first place, at which point Buffy took advantage of his distraction and snatched a set of bright pink flip-flops.

Giving in, Giles decided to just let her hold onto the damn things and try to reach the baby section.

Apparently, there were a lot of things one could buy for an infant. This was a little confusing to Giles, who got the sense that Buffy herself wouldn’t really appreciate most of these items. He suspected that some of it was for the aesthetic sensibilities of the parents. “Anything here suit you?” he inquired gently of Buffy.

Buffy was chewing on the edge of her baby blanket again. Giles was breaking five to seven rules in the Council Handbook by letting Buffy have a comfort object and letting her take it outside the house, but Buffy didn’t do all that well being parted with her baby blanket, and he figured that a baby who had been thrown into a completely new situation deserved as many small comforts as he could give her. She looked impassively at the various outfits and toys, then sneezed.

Giles decided to try and choose some things himself. Picking up a small set of pink footie pajamas, he inquired, “How’s this?”

“Aa,” said Buffy, holding the flip-flops out to him.

“No, it’s—it’s not a trade-off,” Giles began, then considered what he was saying. “Actually—yes. It is a trade-off. Here, you give me those—” He took the flip-flops from Buffy, who took the footie pajamas and seemed very satisfied with herself.

Turning back to the clothing, he found Buffy a few more outfits (well, twelve, but she did need clothing with a splash of color in it, and he certainly wasn’t having her dressed in that Council-approved rubbish when they were the reason he had to go shopping in the first place) and then put them in the shopping cart, along with the pink flip-flops. By a surprising coincidence, the flip-flops were exactly his size, and Buffy had picked them out.

“Mr. Giles?”

Still holding the pink flip-flops, Giles turned, heart catching in his chest. “Yes?”

Ms. Smythe was surveying him with a thin-lipped expression, eyes narrowed. Without a word, she looked towards the baby blanket in Buffy’s arms.

“Ah,” said Giles.

Ms. Smythe looked pointedly at the brightly colored clothing in Giles’s shopping cart.

“Well—” began Giles.

“Regardless of the importance of your charge to the Council, Mr. Giles,” said Ms. Smythe, yanking the baby blanket away from a startled Buffy, who began to cry (Giles’s heart caught horribly, but he didn’t dare reach out to comfort her in front of Ms. Smythe), “you would do well not to forget that you are not raising a child.”

Giles felt a rush of anger. How on earth any individual could look at an infant and deem them a weapon was beyond him, but—but he’d be damned if he lost control in front of Ms. Smythe. “I understand that completely,” he said coolly, taking the baby blanket back from Ms. Smythe as casually as he could manage. “The blanket was a reward for good behavior, and it is thoroughly unprofessional of you to impede the development of my charge.”

He took an incredibly unprofessional amount of delight in watching Ms. Smythe flush an embarrassed red. “My apologies,” she said thinly. “I merely assumed—”

“Much of the Council clothing doesn’t fit Buffy,” good lord, Giles had forgotten how easy it was to lie to these people, “and it was more than necessary to take her shopping with me, as the protective wards I have set up don’t seem to be working as well as I would like. Kindly do not jump to unwarranted conclusions without inquiry, Ms. Smythe.”

“Thank you, yes,” Ms. Smythe managed.

Giles knelt down, gently handing the blanket back to Buffy. She hiccupped, looking tearfully up at him, and he very quietly brushed a hand over hers. “It’s all right,” he said, too quietly for Ms. Smythe to hear.

Buffy held tightly to his hand for a moment, then let go. Giles took this as a sign to turn back to Ms. Smythe. “Why are you here?” he asked, too focused on holding back anger to remember how to be cordial and casual. “I’d have thought that your duties in Los Angeles are over.”

“Oh, hardly.” Ms. Smythe looked startled by the notion. “For the first year of a Potential’s development, if they are living in a large city, it’s Council policy for their Watcher to be monitored. Were it a smaller town, it might be a bit different, but—”

“But this is Los Angeles,” Giles finished. “Too many opportunities for vampires to strike.”

“Too many opportunities for a Watcher to disregard his duties,” corrected Ms. Smythe. “And mark my words, Mr. Giles, I am more than certain that you are on the path to doing just that.” She gave him a thin, unpleasant smile. “I’ll see you soon, I expect,” she said, and turned on her heel, exiting the aisle and leaving Giles with a sniffling Buffy.

Giles picked Buffy up out of her stroller and hugged her very tightly. “I will not let them take you,” he said, pulling back to look at Buffy. “Do you understand me?”

Buffy handed him the footie pajamas and the baby blanket, then took his glasses out of his shirt pocket, examining them very seriously. Deciding that his glasses were a small price to pay for an occupied baby, Giles placed Buffy back in the stroller and resumed his shopping.

The shaken feeling didn’t subside, and hung over him for the rest of the outing. Giles hadn’t considered the fact that he might be monitored for at least a year, and certainly not that his monitor would be so clearly biased against him. He wasn’t sure if he could make it a year in Los Angeles without somehow slipping up, especially if Ms. Smythe continued to be so cruel and callous to a still-adjusting Buffy.

Currently, Buffy had occupied herself with the small cloth doll Giles had bought her, trying to put Giles’s glasses on its face. Something about that made Giles feel very happy, which was most certainly going to be considered a problem in the eyes of the Council. And—at some point there would be a home investigation, most likely, and Giles wouldn’t be that good at hiding the baby blanket or explaining away the cloth doll—

He breathed out, trying to calm himself. There had to be a simpler way of doing things. He just needed to figure that way out.

That night, Giles researched while Buffy (now clad in a purple shirt and a pair of tiny overalls) sat next to him on the sofa and played a game with her doll that seemed to consist of trying to pull out its yarn hair. She didn’t seem to be doing all that well at it, which was more than a relief to Giles. He could only handle one crisis at a time, really.

According to the handbook, the Council wouldn’t look kindly on Giles if he just up and moved to a smaller town in the middle of a monitoring session. There had been cases in the early seventies where Watchers had done such a thing and been investigated even more thoroughly, just to prove that they weren’t avoiding the prospect of being found an unfit guardian to a Potential.

So moving away was out of the question. Avoiding the monitor was out of the question, because Ms. Smythe was already out to get him in the first place, and avoiding her wouldn’t make Giles look all that good in her eyes.

“There has to be some way to handle this,” said Giles, frustrated.

Buffy placed her baby blanket in the middle of Giles’s handbook, looking seriously up at him as though she’d entrusted him with something very precious.

“Oh—” Giles blinked, touched. “Thank you,” he said softly, picking up the baby blanket. “I appreciate it.”

Buffy looked at him for a few more seconds, then went back to trying to yank the doll’s hair out. Smiling, Giles went back to reading the handbook. He rather understood why Buffy liked this blanket; it was rather comforting.

Looking back down at the handbook, Giles noticed that Buffy had inadvertently turned the page; the book was now open to the chapter on Active Hellmouths. Giles was about to try and find his section again when he noticed something rather interesting in the second paragraph.

Any Watcher choosing to relocate to an active Hellmouth in order to further research its capabilities will be fully funded and fully supported, whether or not they have a Potential in their charge. For Watchers with infant Potentials, no monitor will follow them to the active Hellmouth, as more than one Watcher may be seen as a threat by the demons residing there.

Giles looked at the handbook, eyes wide. A Hellmouth? He’d lived on one before, briefly, for similar research purposes, and it hadn’t actually been a place of danger as long as one stayed in at night and kept a level head. It would certainly be difficult to hide from the Council, but filing paperwork to claim he’d be a live-in researcher might actually make him look more useful in their eyes.

This could work. This could reasonably, actually work. He just had to find the closest possible Hellmouth. Scanning the small map of various United States Hellmouths (there weren’t many), Giles’s eyes landed on the one in California.

“A small town,” he said, soft and thoughtful.

Next to him, Buffy really did pull out a few of the doll’s yarn hairs and began to wail. “Shh, come here,” Giles murmured, picking up Buffy and the doll and bouncing them both in his arms.

The rest of the night was spent trying to fix Buffy’s doll while simultaneously fill out the paperwork needed for a transfer to Sunnydale. Buffy sat on the kitchen counter and pressed random buttons on Giles’s portable radio, changing the stations with neither rhyme nor reason.

Strange, how accustomed Giles was becoming to nights like these. Strange and wonderful.