#First watch-through: Anne with an E

[fauchart]

S?? E?? - 'When Snakey Met Annie...'

An early season Bob-centric episode in which Ann finds Snake again after he's robbed her diner and, charmed and stupid, she tries to get him to date her - he's entirely uninterested until she mentions living across the penitentiary. The wheels start to turn and all of a sudden, he welcomes the idea... Meanwhile, Bob had been reading self-improvement books (anger management, how to let go of grudges, revenge isn't the answer etc) and was on his very best behaviour, planning on waiting out his sentence and come back to society a changed man, ready for a fresh start... But when the opportunity to escape is presented as readily as it is here, he shrugs off all of his good decisions, throws his book above his shoulder and switches back to crazed maniac in an instant - and back to hunting Bart he goes! Though the focus of the episode will be Bob and Bart, several times throughout the episode there will be appearances of Snake trying to drop the charade with Ann now that he got what he wanted - but each time he'll have to keep up the farce for one reason or another;

(Listen, Snake growing a conscience and suddenly refusing to violate carpool lane rules for a one-off joke is hilarious to me. Don't look at me like that)

While their B-Plot is going on and intermittently shows them fleeing the law by car in gradually stupider situations - Bob has managed to corner Bart against the big window pane of the Mall. As he lifts his knife, about to strike... Snake's car suddenly crashes through that window and flies out of the mall above Bart, before ramming straight into Bob and splattering him on the pavement. The end of a sequence parodying the Mall Car Chase scene from the Blues Brothers.

"Dude, that was not a shortcut." Cut to both Bob and Snake getting handcuffed. Snake looks a little more sincere when he says "I'll call you!" to Ann-Doreen as the cops make him sit in the car. Mirroring that, Bob says "I'll kill you!" to Bart as the ambulance takes him away. Roll credits.

WELL THAT WAS A LONG ONE. LOL. I worked hard on this one, so for once I'll say; please reblog and give me your thoughts! I hope you liked it!!

BONUS INFOS:

This would be the second episode with Ann-Doreen (outside of like, crowd shots and other non-speaking appearances in the background) and the one to properly set up the relationship she has with Snake. Lots of fun for that poor bugger!

I've made all the panels rectangular because I wanted to try and work in a format that's similar to actually watching the show - it's not 16:9 (nor square like it should technically be for early seasons) but I think we get the feeling anyway :]

That one other guy in the prison is just this random unnamed prisoner from 12x10 'Pokey Mom'. His first appearance would thus be in that ep I made, since it predates season 12!

Also here's me knowing in advance I'm putting way too much effort into this post:

[mashkdemss]

Parallels between Byler and the canon couple from "Anne with an E"

Warning, there are a lot of spoilers here! And I apologize in advance if you find mistakes in the text, I'm still learning English O_o

Hi everyone!! Last month, I watched the series "Anne with an E" for the second time, and during my second viewing I decided to approach the romantic line of the main characters from a different angle. After many analyses of Byler, I learned to analyze relationships in cinema, and this case really surprised me on the good side! Let's talk with you about the parallels between Mike and Will with Ann and Gilbert, which help to make sure that Byler will soon become a canon :)

"Anne with an E" is a Canadian TV series, the first season of which was released in 2017 (8 months before the release of season 2 of Stranger Things). The main role in it was played by actress Amibeth McNulty, who also played the role of Vickie in season 4 of Stranger Things. And this is not the only important connection of this series with ST! At the end of the first season, Hopper was reading a book to Sara in the hospital, and that book was "Anne of Green Gables" (the Netflix series was based on this book)

Then in episode 3 of season 2, he reads the same book for Eleven.

The main romantic line in "Anne ..." develops between Anne and Gilbert over the course of 3 years (13-16) and it is narrated through such tropes as: from friends to lovers, slowburn, a love triangle, and a trope in which both characters think that their feelings for each other are unrequited, although in fact this is not the case. All of these relationship constructions are also applicable in the case of the Byler.

Direct parallels can be drawn between the characters:

Will = Anne

— Creative and sensitive teenagers from medium-income families who were bullied by their peers. They both talk a lot next to people they feel comfortable with, both have a self-built little castle in the forest where they retire during a difficult period and can feel safe without fear that someone will judge them (and later these castles were destroyed at both). There is a scene where Anne runs into her wooden house and cries there, very similar to Will's scene after a fight in the rain.

Ann and Will both told their mothers (in Anne's case, the foster mother) that they are "not going to fall in love" although the line of their romantic attachment to Gilbert and Mike is already developing according to the idea of the plot. Another interesting correspondence between these two characters is that they both helped people dear to them with their romantic relationships, while they themselves did not want it. Anne read the letters that her foster father's old friend had sent him, and without telling him about it, she decided to send her answers on his behalf because she thought they were deeply in love, and her father "just didn't know what to say". As a result, her father found out about it and talked to her about how he hadn't read his friend's letters because he didn't want a relationship with her, he just wasn't in love with her anymore and wasn't ready to change his life. Does it remind you of anything? Will also used Anne's "tactics", revealing his feelings to Mike on behalf of El, only he used a painting and not letters.

And one more take.... Anne's so-called mentor was aunt Josephine. They were in a good relationship and she gave her advice about her life and love. Josephine was also a lesbian. I want to say that this is also a possible parallel, because in the fifth season we are definitely waiting for the interaction of Will and Robin.

Mike = Gilbert

— curly black-haired guy from a more affluent family, who often acts as a leader and has some authority as a smart student. He liked Anne as soon as she joined their school and he tried to win her attention, but Anne knew that her friend liked him, so she carefully avoided Gilbert (although she also liked him). This gives us another coincidence: Anne, like Will, believes that she does not deserve love and avoids her feelings in order for other people to be happy. The main similarity between Mike and Gilbert is that they both stand at the center of a "love triangle."

Due to misunderstandings that have occurred between him and Ann, Gilbert begins to think that his love for her is not mutual and decides to marry Winifred (represents El in our case). Winifred is a girl from a rich family whom he met quite recently, and if Gilbert marries her, then her father will give him the opportunity to study at a prestigious medical college, which he has long dreamed of. Everyone around him approved of the idea of him and Winnie getting married, everyone expected it from Gilbert. Their wedding, unlike a relationship with a village red-haired orphan girl, could have brought him social approval, just as Mike and Eleven's relationship could have brought Mike social approval and entrenched his image of a "normal heterosexual".

But Gilbert doesn't love Winifred the way she loves him. Therefore, shortly before their wedding, he confesses to her that in fact his heart will always belong to Anne and that for this he is ready to give up his dream. And although their breakup was sad for Winnie, Gilbert explained the reasons to her as tactfully as possible, saying that she deserved someone much better than him. All of this also goes well with Willelmike.

To declare his love to Anne again, Gilbert writes her a letter and leaves it in her room while no one is at home. He writes that he and Winnie are not getting married, that he has always loved only Anne, and at the end he signs "Love, Gilbert." LOVE, GILBERT. Where have we heard this before? That's right, Mike's letters... If anything, I absolutely believe in the Lettergate theory, and that's also one of the reasons I'm confident in it.

Then there is confusion, Ann thinks Gilbert is mocking her feelings, and tears up the letter, and Gilbert goes to a less prestigious medical college. Now they are both sure that their feelings are not mutual, and even resigned to their failure, BUT! Anne meets Winnie, who tells her that she and Gilbert broke up and that he confessed his love for Anne to her.

Meanwhile, Gilbert meets Anne's best friend on the train, who loudly told Gilbert everything she thinks about him and "opened his eyes." She also mentions a love letter that Anne left some time ago, in the same way Gilbert left in her room later. Anne's letter was also unread, and the phrase "What letter, Diana, what letter?" appears. Don't you think it's very similar to a possible scene from s5 of ST with "What painting?"

In general, they ended up running to each other and touchingly reunited, after which there was a sensual kiss that the audience had been waiting for for so long. Unfortunately, the series ended there, but according to the canons of the book, they lived happily ever after, married and had many children, as befits such old love stories.

The main plot is not about Anne's love story, but about her growing up, other problems and events in their village (as in the case of Stranger things), so this line between the characters unfolds slowly and throughout the series, and Anne with Gilbert open up about their feelings and kiss only in the last minutes of the last episode.

It seems to me that there are too many coincidences to be coincidences. All of this inevitably leads to Byler endgame, if you look at everything from a cinematic point of view. Absolutely the same techniques were used: framing, phrases, lighting, musical accompaniment. When watching "Anne..." viewers have never denied the fact that there are feelings between Anne and Gilbert, although they were not revealed directly until last season. And all because Anne and Gilbert are a heterosexual couple, and such couples unfortunately turn out to be more pleasant and understandable to the average viewer. But they turned out to be a really good ship, and I'm even glad that the Duffer brothers were inspired by this setting.

So if the Shirbert is canon, then Byler will soon become canon!

[thislovintime]

With journalists Ann Moses and Rochelle Reed on the set of Head, dated on the contact sheet (for the first image) as April 11, 1968. Photo 1 by Michael Ochs Archives.

“I’d just been recovering from seeing Peter two nights before in a small folk club in L.A. Peter had wandered in with sort of a large conglomeration of people behind him. He led the pack and walked in the door first. I just happened to be watching the whole thing.Some of the guys in Peter’s crowd had beards and one stood out because his beard was red. There were a couple of girls too, one with long blonde hair and another with short dark hair. I REALLY watched Peter after that in order to see if he was with a girl. I was crushed. I don’t think he was.They all found a row of seats and sat down quietly. The show had just begun and Peter was watching the act very intently. Whenever anyone in his party talked, he seemed highly annoyed. I guess because Peter himself is a performer and knows what it’s like to have an unruly audience, he’s a very polite member of the audience.The group on stage wasn’t really too good. They were a small group from L.A. who had never had a hit of any kind, and you could see they were honored and awed at having Peter practically at their feet. In fact, when he walked in the lead singer missed a note or two, but Peter just smiled and nodded like he understood.When the set was over, Peter smiled and applauded loudly, even demanding they come back for an encore. They did — really thrilled — and when the show was over, Peter headed backstage. He said a few hellos, then waved to his party to join him and they all split.” - Rochelle Reed, Monkee Spectacular, May 1968 “As I got to know Peter, he treated me with such respect, as if I were a peer. And in a way I was. But, you know, to me, I’m the new girl at the magazine, I’m in there less than a year, but he’s treating me like this has been my profession for years. […] [H]e was always just a very considerate, thoughtful person, and, you know, a pleasure to be around. […] [In the ‘60s] I’d tell him, ‘Oh, I’m afraid, I’m afraid I’ll have a bad trip.’ And he goes, ‘No, no, I’ll take care of you, I’ll make sure you have a good trip, you just — it’s such a great experience.’ And I was always really too chicken, I was just afraid of, well, what if I’m really out of control and I freak out? And so I never took him up on his [LSD] offer. And then when we had our reunion in 2017, I said, ‘Peter, do you remember when you used to get me to try LSD?’ And he said, ‘Oh, Annie, you didn’t miss a thing.’ And, you know, after all the experiences that he had been through, it was that same kind of looking out for me type approach, it was like, ‘Oh, it’s just as well you didn’t,’ and it — he was, he was still being that kind of mentor to me, and it was just… it was so touching, I just couldn’t believe it after all those years, and still there was that closeness there. It was a really, really wonderful moment that I’m so, so glad I got to experience before he passed away.” - Ann Moses, The Monkees Pad Show no. 10, 2022

[obviouslacking]

this is wholly embarrassing but i watched h-e double hockey sticks (1999) for the first time last night and, in the midst of my jeric brainrot, it made my mind go ❣️

so i wrote a teensy, terrible ficlet. i gave it a saccharine little title. griffelkin/dave, because of course it is. what are niche fandoms for if not to practice writing bad fanfiction? anyway. this goes out to the folks on jeric twt

edit: she’s on ao3 now! someone please join me over there so hedhs can become an actual categorised fandom

the sign on your heart (it's still reserved for me)

aka when hell freezes over

*******************

It was the greatest night of Dave Heinrich’s life. 

He’d just won the Stanley Cup; the girl of his dreams was on his arm and he was enjoying his hard-won victory. Only… something was wrong. Through the lights, and the confetti, and the cheers, he watched as Griffelkin melted away into the crowd. Like he was never there. Like he’d never be seen again — by Dave, anyway. The triumphant grin slipped off his lips. It was cold, suddenly, out there on the ice, in a way the exertion had masked before. Everything he’d just accomplished began to feel… hollow. The only reason he’d managed to achieve anything was because of Griffelkin, chaotic and ridiculous though he was. Because, for some godforsaken reason… he’d believed in Dave.

He’d made him a better person.

What he’d had with Anne had been good. It felt like they had grown up in the rink together. But they’d been chasing after a dead-and-buried version of the past for too long now, blindly gripping to nostalgia instead of moving forward with their lives. It was now clear to him: it was time to set them both free. 

He turned to her with regret, “I’m so sorry, I have to go.” 

She didn’t understand, “Dave, wait—”

He couldn’t. He had to get out of there or else he’d lose his chance entirely. He knew how it looked: Dave Heinrich, the golden boy, leaving the Stanley Cup celebrations — the moment he’d worked towards all his life, the pinnacle of his rising star. He didn’t care. He was proud of his team, proud of himself, but… none of it would feel right until he saw Griffelkin again. Until they got to be proud of what they’d done together. The two of them, their own team.

He had to get him back.

It took hours. He drew pentagrams in chalk on his nicely laminated flooring. He lit candles. He tried ominous chanting, tried reciting an exorcism he thought he saw in a movie once, tried everything he could think of to summon Griffelkin back to him — short of screaming at the sky in despair.

Nothing worked. He was forced to sit himself down by the absolute mess he’d made with a sigh, body still aching from the torture it had endured that day. He couldn’t stop thinking about the way Griffelkin had held onto him as he lifted him up onto the sickbay bed. Or the sight of him in his Angels uniform; wearing Dave’s number, Dave’s name. He’d been chasing after the Cup for so long, treading water with his girlfriend for so long… he’d forgotten what that felt like. To have a fire inside you, one that burned for a person. 

If Griffelkin technically counted as a person, anyways. Dave was still a little.. fuzzy on the details. If he thought about it too much, he was sure he’d lose his mind (even more so than he likely already had. Maybe he’d just taken a really hard check out on the ice one day, and this was all some kind of fever dream—)

“What the hell are you doing?”

Jesus Christ!!! Dave had sprung up and away from the sudden intruder in terror before he could even realise it was the intended object of his summonings. Here, at last. Hours after Dave had wanted him. The creature lived to spite him.

Even so, just seeing his face again… Dave needed to say his piece. “I had to talk to you. It wasn’t right, how you just… left, after everything. Why did you just leave?”

Griffelkin was uncharacteristically muted, like all the flair had been drained out of him. “You got everything you wanted. You didn’t need me anymore.”

*******************

Griffelkin was lost. 

He’d come to Earth to be wicked. To do bad deeds. To steal the ever-ripe soul of one Dave Heinrich. He’d never anticipated… everything that had happened after that. Becoming invested in the lives of actual, honest-to-God people, turning against the will of Beelzebub and everything he’d trained for to show compassion… it was entirely out of left field. Or left.. rink… (curse his sudden investment in that stupid game. It was just unnatural).

He’d never anticipated the way something about Dave was just… different. When Griffelkin was with him… he’d never felt like that before. It itched throughout his whole body; like that awful diner food, or the smell of the trees as they polluted his insides. Something horrible like… sunshine, or flowers, or the way Dave would smile breathlessly after he won a game—

Oh, hell.

Griffelkin had done it. He’d gone and fallen in — he took a moment to tamp down the nausea — love with him. The human. His former mark. What on Earth was he going to do? 

Quite literally. He definitely didn’t think Hell would take him back any time soon, and the folks upstairs… well he didn’t know WHAT was going on with them. Gabby was their earthly agent?? She made him look positively angelic by comparison — and that was saying something.

So here he was: stuck topside, having horrendously squishy feelings for someone who would never like him back. Why would he? He’d got the Stanley Cup, got the girl… he didn’t need Griffelkin anymore. Dave’s soul may have been bound to him once, but they’d essentially ripped up everything that had tied them together. Their deal was done. 

If only he’d known sooner… he’d never have got those two back together!! If he'd ensured they'd remained separated, he could have done his buddy Lewis a solid — he wouldn't have had to deal with Dave's impressive ego anymore!! Meanwhile, Griff could have swooped in at just the right moment, offering his soulmate both the shining Cup and his blackened heart on a brimstone platter……

But it was too late. They were all finally happy, at peace; everyone’s souls intact. Hurray! Griffelkin had no choice but to just fade into the background. Leave Dave be. He’d already interfered with his life enough. 

Or so he’d thought.

He wasn’t entirely sure why he was currently standing in Dave’s living room. He’d just felt drawn to the place, something that had never happened before. At least, not without some kind of demonic intervention. Somehow, he didn’t think that was at work here, despite the look of Dave’s once-glossy pad. The space seemed to be covered in… satanic paraphernalia of some kind. 

Aw, he was almost touched. Mildly offended by the amateur job (WHO taught him how to draw a pentagram? And scented candles, really?? Was that glitter over there—) but… touched, nonetheless.

Dave was sitting on the floor, hunched over, still in his jersey from the game. He looked miserable. 

Griffelkin felt that increasingly familiar tremble in his chest. He took it out back and shot it dead. “What the hell are you doing?”

Dave jumped out of his skin at the words. He was so cute when he was being existentially horrified by the forces of Griffelkin’s dark magic. Damn him. He’d failed already (typical, typical, Griff, can’t do anything right). He had to stop thinking of Dave like that, not when he wanted nothing—

“I had to talk to you….. it wasn’t right, how you just…. left, after everything. Why did you just leave?”

He… wanted Griff? 

That couldn’t be right. No matter how much it pained him, all he could think to do was be honest: “You got everything you wanted. You didn’t need me anymore.”

Dave seemed distraught, hearing this. Griffelkin had never seen him like that before. He didn’t know what to make of it. He looked… agitated, but not like he was when his hockey career was on the line; sad, but not in the same way as he’d mooned over… whatever her name was. 

He admitted, “I thought that was what I wanted. But then… you weren’t there.” 

No one had ever… cared about Griffelkin before. Was this how the Grinch had felt when his heart grew three sizes bigger? Griff might as well just sprout wings and take up harp-playing, at the notion. He’d never felt so blessed, 

“Aw, Dave, buddy, you missed me? It was my sick moves out on the ice wasn’t it? You just had to come crawling back—”

Dave kissed him. 

*******************

Dave couldn’t listen to that yapping for one more second.

So, he grabbed Griffelkin by the stupid clothes he was still wearing and kissed his stupid evil mouth. It took only a second before he melted into it like he’d been feeling the exact same feverish longing as Dave, silenced by—

Oh, he’d finally shut him up. He should have thought of doing that sooner. 

It felt like a long time coming. It felt like no time at all.

Slowly, he released Griffelkin from his desperate grasp. It took the demon several seconds to blink his eyes open, staring back at him in awe. Well, Dave would feel just terrible if he’d broken him somehow. (Though maybe it would serve him right, just a little bit.) 

Satisfied, he leant back. 

“You gonna stay now? You don’t have anywhere else to be, right? Hell, or the Underworld, or wherever it is you’re from?” He hoped he never found out all the gory details. He suspected he was going to.

Griffelkin was still stunned. His hands twitched where they stayed clinging to the back of Dave’s jersey.  “No, I… I think I’m right where I need to be.”

“Good. ‘Cause I don’t know if you know this, but I just won the Stanley Cup.” He smiled at the thought… what an insane life he was leading. Dave Heinrich: youngest player to ever earn that mythic trophy; currently falling headfirst, circle-after-circle, in love with Hell’s finest.

Griffelkin smiled back at him, a little goofy, joy glimmering in his eyes, “Oh, you did?”

“Uh huh. And I could use some help figuring out where I’m gonna go from here.”

“Right, well…” Griffelkin swallowed. “I might just know a certain devil who’s going through kind of a similar situation right now. He might just take you up on that offer.”

It felt like the proper conclusion to their little adventure: both balancing on the precipice of a new journey. One Dave wanted them to tackle together — no matter how many ridiculous escapades came about as a result. They were just better as a pair. He knew they’d make it work somehow. If there was one thing he’d learned from all this (besides the whole being a selfless team player thing) it was that he could use a little more chaos in his life.

He pretended to mull Griff’s response over. “No contracts required?”

“Actually now that you mention it, I think I might have forgotten a sub-clause back there—” 

Dave kissed him again. Man, that really did work miracles. It was about time he evened the scales a bit, in terms of which one of them was holding power over the other. He had to be careful or it just might go to his head.

They were still standing in the midst of Dave’s embarrassingly terrible pentagram. Luckily, the candles had all been long-extinguished by the time their lips had met, or they would have been facing a serious fire-safety hazard right about then. Dave had come too far to have his life cut short in that blissful moment.

His arms wrapped around the neck of his tormentor, who bound their bodies together with his own embrace in turn. 

At least they wouldn’t be able to sue him for breach of contract: Dave Heinrich’s soul belonged to the demon Griffelkin after all. 

Along with his heart, and mind, and body, and whatever else he decided he wanted along the way. Dave wasn’t fussed in the slightest.

Hell began to thaw.

[ghostlynightpanda]

Hii, just read your AIB reacts to revealing outfit? And it was so we’ll written, so I wanted to ask if you could write something with Mira, she’s my fav (along with Ann) but no one writes about her😭 if you’re comfortable writing something steamy, I would not objectify 😫🙏

Mwah <3

Queen's Temptation

English is not my first language, so if you find mistakes, feel free to contact me!

Synopsis: As soon as you step out in a revealing bikini, Mira effortlessly initiates a game of power between you.

warnings/content: Mira x fem!reader, fluff, suggestive, 2.581 words

The sun hung low in the sky, sending warm hues of orange and gold across the endless horizon. The air was thick with the lingering heat of the afternoon, the kind that clung to your skin like an invisible touch. A faint breeze blew through the palm trees, rustling their leaves in a slow, hypnotic rhythm. The sound of water lapping against the edges of the infinity pool was the only sign of movement in the eerily quiet resort.

Mira had claimed this place for herself, turning it into her personal oasis—a sanctuary untouched by the chaos of the Borderlands. Unlike the brutal arenas where life and death were constantly at play, here, time seemed to stretch endlessly, bending to her will. It was beautiful and surreal, much like the woman who ruled over it.

She was lounging by the pool, draped across a cushioned chaise, legs crossed elegantly at the ankles. A delicate martini glass twirled lazily between her fingers, its contents shimmering under the fading sunlight. She looked completely at ease, like a queen surveying her domain, but her sharp eyes never missed a thing.

And right now, they were watching you.

You stood at the edge of the deck, letting Mira's gaze linger as you adjusted the straps of your swimsuit—a barely-there bikini that left little to the imagination. The cool evening air ghosted over your exposed skin, but it wasn't the breeze that sent a shiver down your spine. It was the way Mira looked at you.

Slow. Calculating. Amused.

She didn't speak right away, simply tilted her head, studying you like you were a puzzle she was about to solve. The corner of her lips curled into that signature smirk—equal parts charming and dangerous.

Finally, she took a slow sip from her glass before setting it aside with deliberate grace. "Well," she murmured, her voice as smooth as silk, "aren't you a sight to behold?"

Your pulse quickened, but you didn't let it show. Instead, you smirked, stepping closer, deliberately letting your hips sway with each movement. "Too much?" you asked, feigning innocence.

Mira's gaze dragged over your form, unhurried and full of knowing. "That depends," she mused, tapping a manicured nail against the rim of her glass. "Were you hoping to distract me… or to tempt me?"

The air between you crackled with something electric, something dangerous.

You took another step forward, your confidence a challenge. "And if I said both?"

Mira chuckled, low and velvety, her eyes gleaming with amusement—and something else. Something darker.

"My, my… now that," she purred, "would be very interesting."

The moment stretched between you, thick with something unspoken. The faint sound of water lapping at the edges of the pool barely registered over the slow, deliberate thrum of your pulse. Mira's gaze lingered, unhurried and calculating, drinking in every inch of your exposed skin.

You felt the weight of her attention like a physical touch—tracing over the curve of your waist, the delicate dip of your collarbone, the way the thin straps of your bikini barely clung to your shoulders. Her smirk deepened, her amusement clear, but there was something else beneath it. Something dangerous.

And that was what thrilled you most.

"You seem confident," Mira mused, her voice smooth as silk, her eyes glinting like a predator toying with its prey.

You took another step forward, your bare feet brushing against the stone deck. "Should I not be?" you challenged, tilting your head just enough to feign innocence.

Mira let out a soft chuckle, a sound that sent a delicious shiver down your spine. She didn't answer right away. Instead, she reached for her cocktail again, lifting it to her lips, taking her time as she sipped. It was infuriatingly slow.

When she finally lowered the glass, she leaned forward, elbows resting on her knees, her sharp gaze locking onto yours. "Oh, I adore your confidence," she murmured, her voice a quiet purr. "But I do wonder…" Her fingers traced the rim of her glass idly. "Are you always this bold, or is it just for me?"

Your breath caught for just a second before you smirked, refusing to let her unravel you so easily. "Wouldn't you like to find out?"

Mira hummed, setting her drink aside. "Oh, I intend to."

And then, she moved.

She stood with the kind of fluid grace that sent your heart into your throat, her presence suddenly much closer, much more dangerous. You barely had time to react before her fingers ghosted along the strap of your bikini, her touch featherlight yet burning.

Her gaze flickered to yours, waiting—watching. The heat of her body, so close yet not quite touching, sent your senses into overdrive.

"You enjoy being watched, don't you?" she murmured, tracing a slow path along your exposed shoulder, her nails barely skimming your skin. "The way you walked out here, knowing I was watching…" Her hand drifted lower, fingertips brushing along your waist, teasing, testing.

Your breath hitched, but you refused to look away. "Maybe I just like it when you watch."

That earned you a slow, wicked smile. Mira leaned in, her breath warm against your cheek, her lips just barely brushing your skin. "Flatterer."

And then, just as you steadied yourself, her fingers ghosted downward—skimming over the front of your bikini top, the barest, most teasing touch. Not enough to give you what you wanted, but just enough to send a jolt of heat straight through you.

Your breath stuttered, and Mira caught it, her smirk deepening as she dragged her fingers away, as if she hadn't just unraveled you with a single, calculated move.

She leaned in closer, her lips hovering just near your ear as she whispered, "I wonder… if I touched you again, would you still be so bold?"

Your pulse pounded. The air between you crackled with electricity, the game shifting into something far more dangerous.

You could feel it—the power she wielded, the way she played with control, savoring every reaction she drew from you. And yet, despite the way she teased, it was clear: she was waiting. Waiting to see if you would break first.

A challenge.

And you had never been one to back down.

The world around you seemed to fade—just the soft ripple of water, the distant hum of the wind. Everything else was drowned out by the sheer weight of Mira's presence.

Her fingers still toyed with the knot of your bikini, her touch featherlight, maddeningly slow. A silent question lingered in the air between you, one that made your pulse hammer against your ribs.

Would you break first?

Mira's lips curled, sensing your hesitation, the slightest flicker of vulnerability in your resolve. "You were so bold a moment ago," she murmured, tilting her head as if studying a fascinating puzzle. "And yet now…" Her fingers trailed up from your hip, grazing the curve of your waist, her touch impossibly soft. "Now you seem to be trembling."

You sucked in a quiet breath. "Maybe I'm just excited."

Mira chuckled at that—low, velvety, utterly delighted. "Excited?" she echoed, her fingers grazing higher, the tips of her nails barely skimming along your ribs, teasing. "Or nervous?"

You forced yourself to hold her gaze, refusing to let her unravel you so easily. "Wouldn't you like to find out?"

That earned you a slow, dangerous smirk. "Oh, I already know," she murmured.

And then, she moved closer—so close that her lips hovered just inches from yours, her breath warm against your skin.

The distance between you was almost unbearable.

Your body screamed for more, but she refused to give in so easily. Instead, she dragged this moment out, savoring your reactions like the skilled manipulator she was.

Her fingers brushed along the underside of your jaw, tilting your chin up ever so slightly. "I wonder…" she mused, her voice barely above a whisper, "would you still be this brave if there was no one around to admire you?"

The words sent a thrill down your spine.

A test.

A challenge wrapped in honeyed words and an intoxicating touch.

You swallowed hard, knowing full well that if you let her continue to lead this game, you'd end up completely at her mercy.

And yet…

Your hand moved before you could think, fingers wrapping around her wrist, stopping her teasing touch. A flicker of surprise crossed Mira's expression—just for a split second—before amusement returned, deeper this time, darker.

You leaned in, letting your lips hover just close enough that you could feel the warmth of hers. "And if I said yes?" you murmured, voice steady despite the rapid beat of your heart.

Mira's eyes darkened, her smirk curling at the edges. "Then I suppose," she whispered, "we'll have to put that to the test."

Then, without warning, she closed the final inch between you.

Her lips pressed against yours—slow at first, teasing, savoring the moment she had built so masterfully. Then, as if tasting your hesitation she dared you to fall deeper, deepening the kiss.

It was intoxicating.

Mira kissed like she played chess—strategically, knowing exactly where to push, when to hold back, when to let you think you had control before effortlessly taking it back.

Her fingers tangled in your hair, nails lightly scraping against your scalp, drawing a quiet gasp from you. That sound seemed to satisfy her, because she pulled you closer, her body pressing against yours, claiming you as thoroughly as she did everything else in her world.

The game of power had begun.

And you weren't sure if you wanted to win… or surrender completely.

Mira's lips moved against yours with a deliberate slowness, as if savoring the moment, drawing out your anticipation like a cat toying with a mouse. 

You could feel the smirk on her lips as she deepened the kiss, her fingers tangling in your hair, keeping you close but never quite giving you enough. Every brush of her lips, every teasing scrape of her nails down your spine, sent a fresh wave of heat curling through you.

It was maddening. And yet, despite the burning need pooling in your stomach, she was still in control. Still playing with you, dragging this out like she had all the time in the world.

You weren't sure if you could take it anymore.

A frustrated sound slipped from your lips, and that seemed to amuse her. Mira pulled back just enough to break the kiss, her lips barely an inch from yours. Her breath was warm against your skin, her eyes gleaming with that same wicked amusement.

"My, my…" she murmured, tilting her head. "Are you already this desperate?"

You exhaled sharply, your body buzzing with tension. "You're infuriating."

Mira chuckled, her fingers still tangled in your hair, keeping you right where she wanted you. "And yet, you're still here."

Her other hand trailed along your bare waist, fingers featherlight, teasing. Then, without warning, she hooked a single finger under the strap of your bikini, sliding it just enough to make your breath hitch. Not enough to remove it—just enough to remind you how easily she could.

The game was shifting.

You could feel the shift in your own body, the growing ache of wanting more, the slow unraveling of restraint. And Mira? She knew it. She could feel it.

Her fingers traced slow circles on your hip, her lips barely grazing the edge of your jaw as she whispered, "Tell me… do you want me to stop?"

It was a question that wasn't really a question. A taunt wrapped in honeyed words, daring you to admit what you both already knew.

Your fingers curled against her wrist, but instead of pushing her away, you pulled her closer. "No," you murmured, voice barely above a whisper.

Mira smiled against your skin. "Good."

And then, the final thread of restraint snapped.

She kissed you again, harder this time, no longer teasing—claiming. Her grip on you tightened, fingers pressing into your skin, her body pressing against yours as the last remnants of hesitation melted away.

You didn't just surrender to her—you crashed into her, your hands gripping her waist, your body pressing back just as fiercely. A soft, pleased hum escaped her, as if delighted by your eagerness, by the way you finally gave in to the inevitable.

The cool night air was a stark contrast to the fire burning between you. The distant sound of the water, the rustling of the palm trees—all of it faded into nothing as Mira backed you toward the edge of the pool, her lips never leaving yours.

Then, with a playful smirk against your lips, she whispered, "Let's see just how bold you really are."

And with that, she gave you a gentle but decisive push.

The last thing you saw was her wicked smile before you hit the water.

The water swallowed you in an instant, cool and shocking against your heated skin. You surfaced with a gasp, pushing wet hair from your face as you blinked up at the source of your downfall.

Mira stood at the edge of the pool, watching you with a satisfied smirk, her arms crossed loosely over her chest. The warm glow of the pool lights cast a golden shimmer over her form, making her look even more ethereal, almost untouchable—except you had touched her. Had felt the heat of her lips, the weight of her body pressed against yours.

And she had pushed you in like it was nothing.

You let out a breathless laugh, half amused, half frustrated. "Seriously?"

Mira tilted her head, feigning innocence. "Oh? I thought you wanted to cool off."

The absolute nerve.

You swam closer to the edge, resting your arms on the ledge as you met her gaze. "You really don't like losing control, do you?"

Mira's smirk deepened. "On the contrary," she mused, crouching down so your faces were level. "I quite enjoy watching you lose it."

Your fingers curled against the ledge, heart still pounding from the kiss, from the way she had unraveled you so effortlessly. The way she still had you wrapped around her little finger.

She reached out, brushing a few wet strands of hair from your face, her touch maddeningly soft compared to the way she had claimed you moments ago. "You're quite the sight like this," she murmured. "Drenched, breathless… utterly undone."

Your breath hitched, but you refused to let her win so easily. "You do realize you're still within reach, right?"

Mira raised a brow, amused. "Oh?"

Before she could react, your hands gripped the edge tightly—and with one swift motion, you surged up and grabbed her wrist, yanking her into the pool with you.

There was a sharp gasp, followed by a loud splash as Mira hit the water.

When she surfaced, her silver hair clinging to her face, lips parted in surprise, you couldn't help but grin. "Now you look undone."

For a moment, she was completely still, just blinking at you through wet lashes. Then, a slow, wicked grin spread across her lips.

"Oh, my dear," she purred, pushing her hair back with a flick of her wrist. "You really shouldn't have done that."

A thrill shot down your spine.

Because the look in her eyes? That was the look of someone who had just decided to get even.

The game wasn't over.

Not even close.

Masterlist

[sourw0lfs]

dance with the devil - part twelve

To all the werewolf enthusiasts: nope. I'll make y'all a deal though. If someone gets it right, I'll put this on AO3 early.

Words: 437 | Rating: E | CW: none this time!

part one || part two || part three || part four || part five || part six || part seven || part eight || part nine || part ten || part eleven || part twelve || part thirteen

Considering he isn’t expecting it to work, Eddie is surprised when he finds himself no longer standing in front of Steve. He’s equally surprised to find himself standing in front of Joyce instead. He isn’t surprise that she’s looking at him, very unimpressed. “I can absolutely explain this,” he says with a sheepish, tentative grin.

“Can you?”

Grimacing and feeling like a scolded child, Eddie says, “Look, I know my job is to watch him and keep him safe, okay? But letting him have time alone is part of that.”

Joyce only raises an eyebrow in response and Eddie feels himself starting to panic that he’s actually completely fucked up somehow. Eyebrows pulling together, he starts running through a mental list of anything that could go wrong without him being right there. It’s a short list, considering Steve’s life is actually really boring when he’s not waking up in blood-soaked apartments.

“He wanted to be alone, Joyce!” Eddie tries again. “And I didn’t want to stick around and see if he’d try something drastic to get that, so I said I’d try to leave for a bit. Not my fault it worked, okay?”

“There is such a thing as following from a distance, Edward,” she reminds him.

And like, yeah, she’s right. Eddie knows she’s right, but following Steve around from a distance like some kind of stalker doesn’t sound like much fun. “It’s only for an hour!” he bargains, still trying to convince Joyce out of glaring straight through him. “What trouble could he possibly get up to in an hour?”

As soon as he says the words, Eddie wishes he hadn’t but there’s no taking them back now. They also don’t stop Joyce from looking unimpressed with him. Maybe it’s time for a change in tactic? Thinking quickly, Eddie tries one more time. “Besides,” he continues like he’d never stopped in the first place. “It gives you the chance to teach me more about this guardian angel business. Kind of sent me down with almost nothing.”

This time it does the trick and Joyce softens slightly. She still doesn’t look very happy with Eddie standing in front of her, but at least she doesn’t look like she wants to set him on fire with her eyes anymore. Probably because they both know he’s right. Given the situation he’d found Steve in, Eddie understands why he got sent in with minimal information on his task, he does, but it still sucks to not have any answers.

“Right, well,” Joyce starts, “you’ve got fifty-three minutes left of your hour left. What did you want to learn about?”

Tags below the cut like usual, let me know if you want to be added <3

@chaosgremlinmunson @soaringornithopter @hbyrde36 @shares-a-vest @dreamwatch @quevadilla @puppy-steve @penny00dreadful @momotonescreaming @stevesbipanic @dawners @little-birch-boy @steddiejudas @just-my-latest-hyperfixation @estrellami-1 @vthx @lolawonsstuff @gleek4twd @littlebluejane @swimmingbirdrunningrock @lawrencebshaggoth @sadisticaltarts @queenie-ofthe-void @r0binscript @anaibis @hairdressersdoitwithstyle @goodoldfashionedloverboi @spookednsaucy @anne-bennett-cosplayer @flustratedcas @mugloversonly @ellietheasexylibrarian @damnpotatoe

[arcadiabaytornado]

Do you have any pricefield headcannons?

A bunch!

A: They have a bunch of nicknames for each other that need a lot of context to understand. Chloe will affectionately call Max "Anne Bonny" and then not elaborate.

B: They have no idea when they started dating because they never officially asked each other out. They just started acting like a couple, and it wasn't until they were at the alter did they go "Wait...when did we become a couple??? Holy shit I forgot to officially ask her out."

C: Chloe carries around photo's Max has taken in her wallet. She makes sure to show them to everyone to give Max more exposure.

D: Max can't watch "Blade Runner" anymore without getting emotional. Chloe knows why, but it's still emotionally hard for her to see Max get so upset about something that she's so disconnected from.

E: Their favorite type of affectionate is hand holding.

F: Max made an entire scrapbook dedicated to her relationship with Chloe. It's full of photo's from all the places they've gone together over the years.

G: Chloe and Max only sleep well if they're in bed together. Being in each other's presence is very grounding after everything they've been through.

H: Max paints Chloe's nails for her.

I: Chloe gave Max her first tattoo. It was the blue butterfly tattoo on her wrist. (Yes. The one from the comics!)

J: As they get older, they slowly but surely shift from Max being Chloe's impulse control to Chloe being Max's impulse control. At 18, it was Max telling Chloe not to jump out of a tree. At 48, it was Chloe telling Max not to try and climb a tree to get a better angle of a squirrel.

[green-typewriterz]

Lilacs and Forget me nots

Part two

Harry Styles x princess!reader

Summary: Crown Prince Harry Styles is quiet, secluded and most of all, an asshole. No one would ever want to marry him. Unfortunately for you, you don’t get a choice

ASK: Could you write a prince Harry Styles/ princess reader. It can be an idea of your choosing but ideas are 1. they get engaged without their knowledge (something basic) I‘m really not that good at improvising so I‘ll let you decide on what to write and I‘m sure I‘ll love it! Thank you!!!

Warnings: none???

word count: 1645

“Engaged?” You practically screamed at your father, your face red from anger. He sat in his favourite armchair in his room, the work in front of him now discarded. You could barely believe the words that had just left his mouth - this definitely wasn’t something you were ready for.

He eventually looked up at you, his kind eyes tired. “I’m sorry Y/N, this is our only option. We need allies, Queen Anne’s kingdom can provide that.” He looked back down again, picking up a large weathered paper and beginning to read it.

You thought for a moment, realising who exactly he meant. Queen Anne had two kids and one of them was unavailable, leaving Harry. You sat down on the end of your father’s bed, tugging on your hair as you tried to wrap your head around it. “Harry? Is the allieship really worth me marrying an ass?” Your father tried not to laugh, trying to keep the situation serious.

“You will meet with him this evening, you will get along and unfortunately for you… you will marry him.” He replied, there was no room for argument and you knew that this was the end of the conversation. You left the room soon after, going to get prepared for the guests.

Harry sat beside his mother, idly fiddling with his shoulder length hair as the rest of his family spoke with the King and Queen. He did not want to be here and he could not be bothered to hide that. The girl he was supposed to marry hadn’t even bothered to show up yet and he felt as though he had wasted his best suit on this meeting.

After a while, the group sitting in the dining hall heard gentle laughter echo through the large corridor beside it and your mother smiled as she saw you enter the room, making small talk with one of the cooks. Harry turned to look at you, studying your face. Your E/C eyes were bright and, when they weren’t attentively watching the person talking, they were creased in a smile, your H/C hair was elegantly styled and your simple dress was shining in the candlelight.

He was ready to admit to himself that you were beautiful, but it didn’t change his mind. He did not want to marry. You sat in the seat beside him (one that you could tell was specifically placed for you and said your thanks to Poppy, the young cook you were good friends with before turning toward the conversation in front of you.

“Queen Anne, I’m sorry for my lateness, I simply lost track of time.” You spoke calmly, bowing your head. Harry scoffed and you turned to look at him, for a moment, not saying a word. Harry leaned back in his chair and began speaking with Gemma, who was on the other side of him.

You were ready to admit to yourself that he was handsome, but a handsome bastard is still a bastard - no matter how dazzling their emerald eyes were. You listened politely to conversation, nodding every now and then to assure them you were listening but in reality you couldn’t concentrate. You could feel Harry’s stare on you and it was obvious that he wasn’t even attempting to join in on this conversation. He was judging, cold and you couldn’t bear to be near him.

The meal ended after what was four arduous hours and you excused yourself from the table, heading back to your room. It only took a moment for Harry to follow after, stopping you in the middle of the hallway by grabbing your wrist. “Y/N.” You turned to look at him, taking him in fully for the first time. His ringed hand was still gripping your wrist, his body moving closer to yours to speak more quietly. “It’s clear that neither of us want to marry the other.” You sigh in relief as he spoke again, “So, we have the ceremony and we don’t talk again.”

You shook your head, moving closer to him to argue back. “I want to marry for love. If I wed some bastard that wouldn’t care if I died, I'd never be able to marry a person who I truly want to spend my life with.” You pulled your wrist from his grasp, frustration circling like a cloud in your mind. “I refuse to marry you, even for the sake of an allyship.”

He scoffed, “If we are speaking our minds then let me make it plain. I don’t wish to wed you either, the difference between us here is that I’m not a childish girl.”

“Aren’t you?” Harry never moved from his spot and, though you wanted to, you found yourself unable to move anyway. You could feel his breath, sharp against your cheek and his hands, that were mere inches away from yours, repeatedly clenched, his fingers brushing against yours every few moments.

There was a tension. It settled in the hallway like the remnants of an echo. Harry’s eyes lost their fury, softening under your gaze. You stood your ground, not understanding how to feel as your lips parted to sigh gently. You could feel yourself inch closer. He did the same. It was only when his eyes closed that you pulled away. Not uttering another word to the prince.

---

Harry’s family had had residence in your palace grounds for the past few weeks - the guest chambers available to them until the wedding. Everybody in the palace was busy, decorations were being placed and final adjustments to be made. It was in your Kingdom’s best interest that as many royals attend as possible, the allyship between you and Harry creating many opportunities for many people. You sat in the middle of your room, wearing nothing but your white boned corset and a long, sheer underskirt.

“I just find it unfair that I have to wear this torture and he gets to wear nothing but a suit.” You refused to even say his name and hadn’t done so since that evening. Your maid, Tilly, laughed gently, muttering to herself about your repetitive complaints. You huffed as she stood you back up and continued to tighten your corset as there was a knock at the door.

Neither of you had a chance to answer as it swung open, revealing Harry stood there in his suit. You quickly attempted to cover yourself with your hands as he walked in, speaking furiously. “Please tell me it was not you that invited that Duke.” The look on his face told you who was talking about, “I feel as though the both of us are already uncomfortable enough with this wedding and having him in attendance won’t make the situation any less easy.”

“That’s not the only reason she may be uncomfortable, m’lord.” Tilly spoke quickly, a sharp, motherly tone in her voice. He turned to look at the two of you, eyes widening as he realised the situation. Harry swiftly spun around, turning to face the door. His cheeks flushed red.

He pulled at his hair, fiddling with one of the plaits that had been braided into it. “I was just wondering if I had the permission to politely escort him from the grounds.”

You shook your head, arms still covering your body. “I don’t think that wise, Harry,” Then you smiled to yourself, tilting your head down so he wouldn’t see you laugh, “It’s also not wise to pretend you’re not looking at me while intensely watching me through the mirror as you have been doing since you turned away.”

You could see the blush on his face through the mirror and attempted to stifle a laugh as he coughed awkwardly, leaving the room once more without a goodbye. Tilly scoffed and began to get to work again, listing endless complaints about the boy who had just intruded. Your mind was clouded, you didn’t know what to think anymore.

---

Harry stood nervously at the altar, these last few weeks having given him time to think. His hair had been fixed for the fifth time now as his shaking hands kept stressfully removing the braids (much to the hairstylists chagrin). Y/N was meant to arrive any moment now and, as he stood in the wood, looking at all of the lights that the designers had hidden in the trees and waited, palms oddly sweaty.

Then, as if you had read his mind, you stood at the end of the aisle. Your dress was impossibly beautiful. The corset section was almost similar to armour, with lilac flowers embroidered onto the bone, the flower of his kingdom. The gentle lace at the top of the corset was a light purple, and the silk, off-the-shoulder sleeves seemed perfectly placed. The skirt was clean and white, the length of it trailing behind you. The bottom of the dress slowly became tulle (almost like a fabric gradient) and eventually made it look as though a trial of lilacs was following behind you. Harry’s white suit perfectly matched yours, though the embroidery on his was that of forget-me-nots, the flower that was on the front of your family's crest, chosen by your family to represent devotion, loyalty and true love.

At that moment, it was as though a switch had flipped. Harry’s throat went dry, his eyes taking you in as if he might never see you again. When you reached his side, he leant forward, whispering into your ear, “Any cruel word ever uttered from my lips toward you hurts me to remember. I regret every cold moment that could’ve been spent relishing in your elegance. I am truly sorry if I have harmed you.” He leaned away again, a genuine smile on his face.

You met his eyes and raised your hands to take his. “All is forgiven, my prince.”

[therealslimshakespeare]

Any other Elvis and wife/girlfriend sagas in the works in the same vein as Elaine and Gigi?

Mm why yes, yes there are. Who knows if I’ll get to them but I’d love to share. I’m still chipping away at the Regency Au, I bet I’ll keep spitting things out for it at random. But then there’s working title: Honeysuckle. Which sort of came out of people requesting more in the tome of Honeymoon. I’ve nothing written for it yet except a plot pitch I shared with a couple dear friends, I’m going to include it below for anyone interested. Maybe y’all will have additional suggestions, I’d welcome them. Xoxo

Honeysuckle Plot 🎀

I once had a whole Governor’s Daughter plot but then the more I read about her (the real gal Ann) the more I thought it was sweet they just had a kissy friendship, both being well aware they were headed in opposite trajectories. They parted ways and remained in contact, we need more of those represented so I’m not going to meddle and make it steamy...

BUT THEN

I had a notion and I do need more scheming on it but -what about her little sister, ok?

See, the Governor's daughter -the little sister-, she’s adorable and very young and a buttercup when Elvis comes home in 1960. She has posters of him in her mansion room, squeezes his hand too tight when he goes through the endless greeting of shaking hands and is a giggly mess when she spies on him kissing Ann while Ann shows him the mansion. Altogether her girlish crush is cute as can be, because he’s sweet as pie to her and he looks like Prince Charming and he becomes friends with the family and laaa deee daaa…

Life goes on. A few years later he even comes to her sweet sixteenth when she writes him a detailed letter making a case and citing how he said (teased more like) that he would marry her just for her custard, the least he could do is come to her birthday party. And so he comes and again, it’s cute.

Now it’s not entirely unusual for him to stay with the Governor and his family when he’s recording in Nashville and one year Ann gets engaged and he comes to that party and perhaps there’s a bit of moment, and eying up of his little friend as she stands with her fruit punch and passes her bridal sister gifts- “lordy, buttercup, you’re fillin’ out nicely” he complaints in a bit of daze.

“Elvis, you know I’ve turned sixteen!” she’s a bit outraged he didn’t notice how grown she’s become, he watched her blow out that candles!

And yet, it remains all cute.

BUT THEN

one night he stays with them when she’s seventeen and she thinks nothing of it, letting him into her room along with a couple other of the old hooligan set, gardeners kids and the maid’s daughter and a few other younguns, because they’re gonna do what they’ve been doing since the first night he stayed with them once all the adults go to bed.

PILLOW FIGHTS!

except this one, oh it’s fun as can be but when 3:00 am strikes they all reckon they should probably go to sleep, so the kids sneak out her window and Elvis sneaks out her door to go to his room down the hall.

but alas!

somebody sees him, and my, my, ain’t that front page news the day after?!

And her daddy calls Elvis into his office furious, i mean, ‘what’s he thinking sneaking into his young daughters room in the middle of the night?’

I’m imagining Elvis trying to explain to her father and Governer’s all “yeah, sure, of course it was a pillow fight uhuh.” 🙄 “Mr Presley, you’ve already taken my hospitality for granted, don’t take me for a fool, too”

Governor had figured between that and the way Elvis had maintained good friendship and been a gentleman with the older sister. that the reports on him where exaggerated -but this!

I’m sorta imagining him calling Buttercup into his office too, partway through this, the Sweet Little Thing swears up and down it was just a pillow fight and even hikes up her skirt to show a bruise, assures her daddy it’s not so bad, she walloped Elvis real hard on his belly right back, “-won’t you show him, E?”

Which is… painfully innocent and also exposes Elvis as being a bit of uh…well…she’s comfy enough to hike her skirt up and demand to see his belly. What a mess.

But like, she’s from the debutante world, she’s seventeen, it’s prime time to be out and meeting boys and snagging s marriage and Elvis has gone and ruined it.

I think chiefly what I love about this possible Au is that it gives Elvis a chance to be impulsively chivalrous as he often was, — he offers to marry her.

And then it allows him to be regretful and lazy, which he also was, and postpone the thing indefinitely. Boarding school and model school and all sorts of engagements he visits her at, keeping up appearance and allowing himself the occasional slip of composure, she’s lovely after all. And likes him so very much. He just knows marrying would be the worst thing imaginable. It would, he’s not suited.

But it’s idiotic leaving a beautiful gem like that in the wild, she should be secure round his finger and chained to his side but he doesn’t see it, not when he’s so busy with his movies and such. Not until she’s in the papers again with a flock of fellas around her, not acting particularly engaged. It makes Elvis’ engaged blood boil. He visits her after that, be sure of it. He even hauls her to Paris and angrily demands a dress be chosen and tailored by the end of the week. By the wedding.

Well, anyway it’s all sorta leading up to what was in Honeymoon. Maybe not exactly the same universe but the whole concept and dynamic. Maybe he gets into diplomacy thanks to her father? I never have endings for my stories, only ever beginnings. Anyways. Innocence kink abounds here, lol. Except for the pillow fights, those are legit just fun.

[book--brackets]

Summaries under the cut

The Mistmantle Chronicles by M. I. McAllister

On a night of riding stars, a tiny squirrel is found abandoned and close to death on a distant beach. Adopted and raised by a kindly, eccentric squirrel, Urchin has no idea of his powerful destiny or of the way he will influence the island of Mistmantle.

The rule of the good King Brushen and Queen Spindle is threatened by an evil plot from within the court. When their young prince is found murdered, the isle is thrown into turmoil. Behind the scenes, the wicked Lord Husk and Lady Aspen are determined to take control. But to underestimate the power of the islanders and the ancient prophecies is a big mistake...

Larklight by Philip Reeve

Arthur (Art) Mumby and his irritating sister Myrtle live with their father in the huge and rambling house, Larklight, travelling through space on a remote orbit far beyond the Moon. One ordinary sort of morning they receive a correspondence informing them that a gentleman is on his way to visit, a Mr Webster. Visitors to Larklight are rare if not unique, and a frenzy of preparation ensues. But it is entirely the wrong sort of preparation, as they discover when their guest arrives, and a Dreadful and Terrifying (and Marvellous) adventure begins. It takes them to the furthest reaches of Known Space, where they must battle the evil First Ones in a desperate attempt to save each other - and the Universe.

La Quete d'Ewilan by Pierre Bottero

Quand Camille vit le poids lourd qui fonçait droit sur elle, elle se figea au milieu de la chaussée. Son irrépressible curiosité l'empêcha de fermer les yeux et elle n'eut pas le temps de crier... Non, elle se retrouva couchée à plat ventre dans une forêt inconnue plantée d'arbres immenses.

- Te voici donc, Ewilan. Nous t'avons longtemps cherchée, mes frères et moi, afin d'achever ce qui avait été commencé, mais tu étais introuvable...

Adventure by Enid Blyton

For Philip, Dinah, Lucy-Ann and Jack, the holiday in Cornwall is everything they'd hope for - until they begin to realize that something very sinister is taking place on the mysterious Isle of Gloom.

But they're not prepared for the dangerous adventure that awaits them in the abandoned copper mines and secret tunnels beneath the sea.

Just William by Richmal Crompton

Whether it's trying to arrange a marriage for his sister or taking a job as a boot boy as step one in his grand plan to run away, Just William manages to cause chaos wherever he goes.

Storybound by Marissa Burt

In the land of Story, children go to school to learn to be characters: a perfect Hero, a trusty Sidekick, even the most dastardly Villain. They take classes on Outdoor Experiential Questing and Backstory, while adults search for full-time character work in stories written just for them.

In our world, twelve-year-old Una Fairchild has always felt invisible. But all that changes when she stumbles upon a mysterious book buried deep in the basement of her school library, opens the cover, and suddenly finds herself transported to the magical land of Story.

But Story is not a perfect fairy tale. Una’s new friend Peter warns her about the grave danger she could face if anyone discovers her true identity. The devious Tale Keeper watches her every move. And there are whispers of a deadly secret that seems to revolve around Una herself....

The Cooper Kids Adventures by Frank E. Peretti

When teenagers Jay and Lila Cooper and their archaeologist father travel to Nepur, an uninviting land of deserts and danger, they must search to uncover the truth behind an ancient legend. Locals claim that inside a dark cavern called the Dragon's Throat is a forbidden Door that brings certain death to anyone who tries to open it.

Armed with the knowledge that God is more powerful than any legend or curse, Jay and Lila plunge down into the Dragon's Throat, determined to find out what awaits them on the other side of the Door. This daring tale will have you on the edge of your seat.

Nim by Wendy Orr

A girl. An iguana. An island. And e-mail. Meet Nim–a modern-day Robinson Crusoe! She can chop down bananas with a machete, climb tall palm trees, and start a fire with a piece of glass. So she’s not afraid when her scientist dad sails off to study plankton for three days, leaving her alone on their island. Besides, it’s not as if no one’s looking after her–she’s got a sea lion to mother her and an iguana for comic relief. She also has an interesting new e-mail pal. But when her father’s cell-phone calls stop coming and disaster seems near, Nim has to be stronger and braver than she’s ever been before.

And she’ll need all her friends to help her.

The Dragonfly Pool by Eva Ibbotson

Tally Hamilton is furious to hear she is being sent from London to a horrid, stuffy boarding school in the countryside. And all because of the stupid war. But Delderton Hall is a far more" "unusual and " interesting" place than Tally ever imagined, and she soon falls in love with its eccentric staff and pupils. Now she's even organizing an exciting school trip to the kingdom of Bergania . . . although Tally never expected to meet the "prince."

Prince Karil hates his life at the palace and he is only truly happy when he escapes to the dragonfly pool, a remote spot in the forests of Bergania. Then Karil meets a feisty English girl who brings the promise of adventure. But his country is under threat, and the prince soon looks to his new friend Tally for survival as well as friendship . . .

Mandie by Lois Gladys Leppard

Mandie Shaw, almost a teenager, is certain God no longer loves her as she watches her father being lowered into his grave. Mandie's move into a neighbor family's home, when her mother remarries, does not soften her grief. Her only comfort is the promise from her father's faithful Cherokee friend, Uncle Ned, to watch out for her and be a friend. Will Mandie be able to escape her new and nearly intolerable home situation? Will she find her long-lost family? Will the mysterious key unlock the door to the secret tunnel and her own family's history?

[fuckyeahfightlock]

Punk Rock Cool Kid Required Viewing Batch 5/The Final Batch

The Wall Urgh! A Music War Liquid Sky The Great Rock 'n' Roll Swindle

(I'm rewatching all the "required viewing" films of my alterna-teen years) Notes on these films below the cut.

The Wall (1982, dir. Alan Parker)

I couldn't do it. Couldn't rewatch The Wall. I think its status as a 1. cult, 2. rock, 3. good-to-watch-while-stoned movie starring punk rock (and later philanthropy) icon 4. Bob Geldof put this on the must-watch radar in the '80s, despite it being centered on exactly the kind of music against which punk was a violent reaction. It is not punk. Not even a little. I just don't care about it enough to watch it again.

When I was a teen, our gang of small-town, high school drama club weirdos encompassed the hippies/deadheads and prog-rockers (not to mention the drugs-enthusiasts) as well as the punks, so some pop culture cross-pollination was inevitable. The Wall seemed subversive, and we lived for subversion. I did not then and never had and never have since been a Pink Floyd fan, but I was definitely a Bob Geldof fan and I recall he wrote fairly extensively about the making of this film (it drove him a little crazy) in his autobiography, Is That It?. So I was there for Bob Geldof.

(Here he is with his then-wife Paula Yates. One of my favourite things about Bob Geldof is that after both Paula and her new partner Michael Hutchence died, Bob--who had three daughters with Paula--adopted the girls' half-sister. I see that he has become a "fathers' rights" campaigner, which can be kind of cringe and problematic so I'm going to just look at that through squinty eyes and imagine his heart is in the right place because I really admire him.)

I watched The Wall on YouTube, so I was able to set it to 1.25 speed in order to get through it quickly (which, of course, makes the music sound just that much worse but I wasn't there for the music). But it is so self-indulgent woe-is-me white guy who refuses to get therapy; so self-important; so "aren't we clever clever artists?" that I only got about 15 or 20 minutes in. That's a vibe I no longer have even one atom of patience for.

Urgh! A Music War (1982, dir. Derek Burbidge)

With a few too many performances by the Police (they get three songs while every other band gets just one), Urgh! A Music War is nonetheless a compelling--sometimes downright exciting--documentary of post-punk/New Wave. Featuring 30ish live performances by artists running the gamut from punk poet John Cooper Clarke to New Wave stalwarts Devo and Gary Numan, from reggae bands Steel Pulse and UB40 to operatic performance artist Klaus Nomi, from the Go-Go's, Oingo Boingo, and Joan Jett to Devo, Toyah Willcox, and X. There is no narration, just the name of each band and the city where the performance was filmed. Even with the inclusion of a few largely-forgotten bands like Invisible Sex and Skafish, the film flows pretty evenly, and the variety of styles keeps things interesting.

Not every song is my favourite, but New Wave is my favourite, and this is its primary contemporary document. It's a fun watch (or listen) for anyone whose fervent music fandom started with '80s New Wave (like mine did), or as an overview for the uninitiated. I had to buy this one on DVD but I ain't mad at it.

Liquid Sky (1982, dir. Slava Tsukerman)

OK, so I had a very strange experience of this film. Somehow I had it in my head that director/co-writer (with star Anne Carlisle) Slava Tsukerman was the second female lead in this film:

I have thought this since the first time I saw it, which is relevant to the aspects of this film that are lesbian (and otherwise queer), feminist. . .just overall woman-y. I thought this film was directed by a woman and co-written by two women. But I learned, about five minutes before my rewatch ended, that Slava Tsukerman was a middle-aged straight Russian dude, and the brash and beautiful performance artist Adrian (above) is played by Paula E Sheppard.

All this to say, this film is queer, weird, New Wave-y, surreal, and modern thanks to the women who co-created and starred in it, and I really can't make sense of how this particular guy came to make this particular movie at this particular moment of grimy/high crime New York City New Wave. It really threw me off.

Liquid Sky tells the story of Margaret (Anne Carlisle), a fashion model; her girlfriend, drug dealing singer Adrian; her rival, the bitchy male model Jimmy (also played by Anne Carlisle); and the alien spaceship that lands on the roof of her apartment and kills all her sex partners by "feeding off pleasure." Sex partners is not the right word though, as there are four or five encounters with Margaret at the center of this action, and they are all rapes (she has no orgasms, so the aliens don't kill her). Margaret, unaware of the flying saucer or the aliens, understands her circumstance as a power she has developed--to kill people by fucking them--and she evolves from victim to avenger. As the UFO begins to float away, Margaret, dressed in a wedding gown, shoots up heroin (the titular "liquid sky") to bring on an orgasmic rush of pleasure and thus be carried away with the aliens.

This movie is aesthetically remarkable, with neon lights, intense graphic makeup, architectural hairstyles and avant garde/high fashion New Wave clothes. The music is a real trip--all composed on a Fairlight CMI synthesizer by director Tsukerman--relentlessly weird, otherworldly, futuristic. This one was particularly important to my high school girlfriend as it is one of the few films we could find with lesbian characters in it--even though the couple is dysfunctional to the point it seems they don't even like each other. The queer theme in this film focuses more on androgyny ("to be fashionable is to be androgynous"), with heaping side-helpings of sexual manipulation, rivalry, and the ways female sexuality can be used as a weapon--wielded by women, or against them.

It's a fairly straight-up Sci-Fi plot hung on a very un-straight framework, and it even has a semi-comedic side plot involving Jimmy's Jewish mother and a German UFOlogist ("You're from Germany? I'm Jewish.") trying to commune with the aliens, who she seduces with Chinese takeout and access to her window so he can set up a telescope.

Liquid Sky is bizarre and important, at times uncomfortable, always beautiful--especially on the remastered Blu-Ray edition put out several years ago by film archivists Vinegar Syndrome. Worth a watch is you like Sci Fi, New Wave, queer cinema, or cult movies. It's all of that and more.

The Great Rock 'n' Roll Swindle (1980, dir. Julien Temple)

This movie could have been good. Alas, not so much.

The conceit is that a private detective (played by Sex Pistols guitarist Steve Jones) uncovers the truth about the Sex Pistols: that Malcolm MacLaren (herein, a character called "the Embezzler") had a grand plan to invent the Sex Pistols (true)--and indeed punk itself (debatable)--to bilk record companies and fans out of as much money as possible (a happy side effect, for him, but probably not the initial goal). The story is lightly framed in a How-To style, "Lesson One," "Lesson Two," etc, and overall has a pretty punk, DIY, collage aesthetic, stitching together new narrative footage, archived concert and interview footage, animated sequences, talking head moments, and (of course) a significant dose of embedded advertising for MacLaren's shop, SEX. But what could have been clever and actually funny comes off as half-thought-out and unpleasantly cynical.

Johnny Rotten (John Lydon) refused to participate, saying the movie was "Malcolm's vision of what he believed; not true in any form." Though he was present for filming, Sid Vicious had already died before the movie's release. By 1980 when the film came out, The Sex Pistols were a memory, and punk itself--three years after its invention--was essentially a relic. The film is joyless in the extreme, and on the unremastered DVD I watched, it's washed-out and unpolished in a way that seems just plain old, sloppy, rather than punk. I was surprised how unpleasant it was to watch; it was my least favourite of the punk docs, by a large measure.

"Ever get the feeling you've been cheated?"

So this was fun! Glad I revisited these films of my teens. I'm compiling a list of recs of related films to share soon--music documentaries of the last 30 years, punk-adjacent films that came out after I left high school, etc. Hope you enjoyed reading these posts.

[amonrawya]

3rd of October: Durin's Day / An Treasamh Latha dhen Dàmhair: Là Dhurin

English Translation:

In the early years after the dragon came, the Dwarves of Erebor set their eyes on survival. Much was lost to them during this time, cultural and religious customs they failed to sustain in their wanderings.

As soon as they had homes once again, mines to work in and forges to fire, Thorin looked to these things for the final missing piece in their lives. His nephews, growing fast, had never experienced Durin's Day in any way other than that of the Blue Mountains.

He heard Erebor in their speech, saw it in the style of their clothes, and even in the weapons they favoured, but so much of his nephews' cultural references lay elsewhere. He wished for them to understand Durin's Day through the eyes of their own culture.

Thus, ten years since Erebor had seen its last Durin's Day, her people put on a feast in Thorin's Halls the like of which was rarely seen. They worked tirelessly to have everything right: musicians woke up old ballads, bakers brought back old delicacies, and the elders gathered to pass their folktales onto the new generations. The exiles.

Another wound was healed that night, another wrong put right. Thorin watched over the festivities as Fili and Kili learnt how to sing a traditional Erebor hymn and thought of his own childhood.

Finally, everyone came together on the stone slopes before the gates of their halls to watch the last vestiges of the sunset fade from the sky behind them and the autumn moon rise in the eastern horizon. For a precious few minutes, both lights lingered together, before the sun was overcome at last.

Thorin stood with his arm around Dis and the boys by their legs, wide-eyed with their first Durin's Day beads braided carefully in their hair. They were't likely to sleep tonight.

The towering stature of the Misty Mountains blocked it from view, but Thorin knew - could see - beyond their white peaks lay Erebor, bathed in the silver light of Durin's moon.

Maybe he started it, or perhaps they all did so at the same time, but slowly and quietly, their low Dwarven voices rose into the sky with a song of home-sickness on their lips. A mourning song.

Oh, far over the Misty Mountains cold...

Scottish Gaelic Translation:

Anns na bliadhnaichean a chaidh seachad as dèidh don nathair-sgiathach tighinn, thoirt na Troichean Erebor an sùilean air mairsinneach. Chaill iad tòrr tron àm seo, nòsan cultarach is creideamh nach do chùm iad beò anns am fuadan aca.

Cho luath ‘s a bha dachaighean aca a-rithist, mèinnean a bhith ag obair anns agus ceàrdaichean a chuir teinne anns, chaidh Thòrin don rudan seo a’ sireach am pìos mu dheireadh air fhàgail bho am beathannan sa Bheinn Ònaranach. A’ fàs cho àrd a-nist, cha robh na mic a pheathar eòlach idir air an dòigh dhen Là Dhurin ach an dòigh na Beanntan Ghorm.

Chuala e Erebor san dòigh-bhruidhinn aca, san stoidhle aodach, eadhon san arm a bha an dithis measail air. Ach leis na rudan beaga, chunnaic e gun robh sin a’ tighinn bho àitichean eile. Bha e airson ‘s gum biodh iad a’ tuigsinn Là Dhurin tron shùilean an cultar aca fhèin.

Air an adhbhar sin, deich bliadhna seach gun do chunnaic Erebor an Là Dhurin mu dheireadh, chuir an t-sluaigh aice seòin air dòigh nach fhaca iad gu tric anns na Tallachan Thòrin. Dh’obraich iad gu cruaidh airson a h-uile rud a bhith ceart: dh’èirich ceòladairean seann balantan, rinn bèicearan seann biadh fìnealta, agus chruinneach na daoine aosmhor ri chèile airson am beul-aithris aca a thoirt don ghinealaichean ùra. Na fògraich.

Shlànaich gort eile an oidhche sin, rud eile a chuir ceart. Choimhead Thòrin air an subhachas mar a dh’ionnsaich Fìli is Kìli laoidh traidiseanta Erebor a sheinn agus smaointeach e air na làithean anns an robh e fhèin beag.

Mu dheireadh thall, thàinig a h-uile duine ri chèile a-mach air na slèibhtean mu bheul an geata nan tallachan. Choimhead iad air dol fodha na grèine san speur air an cùlaibh, an solas a’ dol às beag air bheag. Agus gealach an foghair a’ tighinn suas san fàire Ear. Airson beagan mionaidean prìseil, dh’fhuirich an dà sholas anns an speur ri chèile mus do dh’fhalbh a’ ghrian.

Sheas Thòrin le a gàirdean timcheall a phiuthar, Dìs, agus na bhalaich ri taobh nan casan. Bha na sùilean drileach aca a’ coimhead mòr, agus bha a’ chiad grìogagan Là Dhurin a bh’ aca air pleatach anns am falt. Cha bhiodh e comasach gun cadail iad a-nochd.

Cha b’ urrainn dha a’ faicinn tro na Beanntan Àird a’ Cheò, ach bha fios aige gun robh Erebor air a seasamh dìreach thar air na mullaichean gheala, lannrach anns an t-solas ghealach Dhurin.

Is docha gun do thoiseach esan e, no ‘s docha gun do rinn iad uile e aig an aon am, ach gu slaodach agus gu samhach, chaidh na guthan ìosal troiche dhan speur le òran chianalais air an bilean.

Ò thar na Beanntan Àird fhuar a’ Cheò...

[riovidalharkness]

🚨🚨🚨🚨I DEMAND your Jen x Ann x April headcanons hand them over now please 🫴🫴🫴

(No, I totally didn't just quickly make this image just to reply)

Jen gets up the earliest and starts coffee. She typically starts going through e-mails and tries to get ahead before the day starts.

Ann is the next one to get up when she hasn't worked a shift at the hospital overnight. If she has, she's the last to get up.

April gets up last but barely acknowledges them until she's had a cup of coffee.

If Ann didn't work, she'll cook breakfast. If she did, Jen will usually run to the local bakery and grab breakfast for everyone. On the rare occasion that April is also awake before Ann, she'll join Jen and pick out a donut or pastry with the most sugary she can find for Ann just to tease her. She'll also pick out a healthier option.

If its a weekend, they'll stay in for the morning and enjoy each other's company. Sometimes, they'll have sex. Other times, they'll just sit cuddled up in the living room because the week has been so busy.

Jen doesn't let anyone talk about her girls. If she hears someone even mutter about how strange April is, or that Ann is too eccentric, she'll let them have a piece of her mind.

April and Ann love watching Jen when she's in professional mode. They love the way Jen will carry herself as she's speaking to people of importance. When they get home, they waste no time jumping her bones.

On the very rare occasion, they all have the day off together. They'll walk around the park and reminisce on everything they went through to make it such a nice park.

Jen avoids too much PDA due to her job, but Ann and April are all for it. Sometimes, when the park isn't too full, though, they'll all hold hands.

Jen is usually the one to take control in the bedroom out of the three. Sometimes, she'll let Ann or April take control if she has a long day.

Ann and Jen will lay their hands in April's lap while she reads to them.

They definitely jokingly went to a photo studio and took those awkward couples photos when they all first started dating. Now, every Thanksgiving or Christmas, they recreate it with some goofy theme.

April is the gift giver out of all of them and gives really thoughtful gifts. Whether it's a birthday, holiday or their anniversaries. Jen usually takes them on extravagant trips when their schedules allow. Ann likes to gift books to them about their interest.

Oh! They also still have Champion and take him for walks and to the dog park together 🥰

[zadry]

At the beginning of the year I made it a point to dedicate 2024 to reading & supporting more black writers. And I have to say it has been amazing! I discovered some wonderful stories. So with 2024 quickly wrapping up I thought I'd share some of my favorite reads of the year.

1. Jordan Ifueko's Raybearer world:

Raybearer

Tarisai, a young girl with the unique ability to glimpse the stories of others' lives through touch, grows up under the shadow of a magical wish imposed by her distant, absent mother. While she unravels the secrets of others, her own story remains a mystery yet to unfold.

Redemptor

For the first time in history, an Empress Redemptor rules from Aritsar’s throne. To quell the vengeful spirits of the dead, Tarisai must assemble her own council, embracing her full power as a Raybearer. Her ultimate test lies ahead: a journey into the Underworld, a selfless sacrifice to prevent future atrocities.

The Maid and The Crocodile

In the magic-infused capital of Oluwan, Small Sade is desperate for work—ideally as a maid for someone willing to overlook her unusual appearance and unlucky foot. However, her plans take an unexpected turn when she accidentally binds herself to the Crocodile, a formidable god infamous for devouring beautiful girls.

2. Ladarrion Williams / Blood at the Root

Debut novel

"A teenager on the run from his past finds the family he never knew existed and the community he never knew he needed at an HBCU for the young, Black, and magical."

Book 2 titled Bones at the Crossroads will be released July 2025

3. Alyssa Cole thrillers:

When No One Is Watching

"Sydney Green is Brooklyn born and raised, but her beloved neighborhood seems to change every time she blinks. Condos are sprouting like weeds, FOR SALE signs are popping up overnight, and the neighbors she's known all her life are disappearing. To hold onto her community's past and present, Sydney channels her frustration into a walking tour and finds an unlikely and unwanted assistant in one of the new arrivals to the block--her neighbor Theo."

One Of Us Knows

"The new caretaker of a historic estate finds herself trapped on an island with a murderer—and the ghosts of her past."

4. Akwaeke Emezi's Pet series:

Pet

Pet tells the story of Jam, a transgender teenager living in a society where adults have convinced themselves that monsters no longer exist.

Bitter

"A prequel to Emezi's Pet, Bitter tells the story of a Black teenage girl living in a city troubled by constant protests and violence."

5. Justina Ireland / Rust in the Root

"It is 1937, and Laura Ann Langston lives in an America divided—between those who work the mystical arts and those who do not. Ever since the Great Rust, a catastrophic event that blighted the arcane force called the Dynamism and threw America into disarray, the country has been rebuilding for a better future. And everyone knows the future is industry and technology—otherwise known as Mechomancy—not the traditional mystical arts. Laura disagrees..."

Another great read by Justina not read this year but too good not to mention is her Dread Nation series:

Dread Nation

Deathless Divide

6. Morgan Rogers / Honey Girl

Debut novel

A story of self-discovery, prioritizing mental health and recognizing the beauty of chosen family.

7. Tiffany D Jackson / The Weight of Blood

"Drawing inspiration from Stephen King’s Carrie, the novel features a biracial teenage girl with magical powers whose years of abuse from her father and bullying from her peers lead to disastrous consequences."

If Tiffany D. Jackson wrote it I'm going to read it , her books do not disappoint:

Allegedly

Monday's Not Coming

Let Me Hear A Rhyme

Grown

White Smoke

Blackout

Whiteout

8. Erin E. Adams / The Jackal

Debut novel

"A young Black girl vanishes in the woods on the outskirts of her predominantly white Rust Belt town. She isn’t the first to disappear—and she might not be the last"

9. S. A. Cosby / Razorblade Tears

"Ike Randolph and Buddy Lee are aging ex-cons living in rural Virginia. When their sons, a black and white couple with a baby daughter are brutally murdered, the two men team up and embark on a quest for revenge. As they try and track down their sons' killers, they also confront their own prejudices toward their sons and each other."

Other must reads by S. A. Cosby (read last year) :

All The Sinners Bleed

My Darkest Prayer

10. Tracy Deonn's Legendborn cycle:

Legendborn

"After her mother dies in an accident, sixteen-year-old Bree Matthews wants nothing to do with her family memories or childhood home. A residential program for bright high schoolers at UNC–Chapel Hill seems like the perfect escape—until Bree witnesses a magical attack her very first night on campus. A flying demon feeding on human energies & a secret society of so called “Legendborn” students that hunt the creatures down."

Bloodmarked

"It is the second book in The Legendborn Cycle series, and follows Bree as she discovers her ancestral power and becomes a Medium, Bloodcrafter, and Scion. Bree and her friends must go on the run to rescue Nick, the Legendborn boy she fell in love with."

Oathbound the 3rd book in the cycle will be released in March 2025

[r0sesthings]

𝙸𝚗𝚝𝚛𝚘 𝙿𝚘𝚜𝚝:

Heyyy to anyone reading this:

I am r0sesthings, but you can call me Rose!

My pronouns are She/Her, and I’m new-ish to tumblr so im trying to navigate the best I can!

𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝙾𝚞𝚝𝚜𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚜:

Like many, I was first introduced to the outsiders through reading the book in school, where I first fell in love with the world of “The Outsiders”

After that, I watched the movie, which peaked my interest even more. It wasn’t until I heard about the musical that I *officially* joined the fandom, but I have had a special interest in The Outsiders for awhile

l mainly post/repost about the outsiders on this blog

I have not read S.E. Hinton’s other books yet, but they are on my list of things to read next!

𝚃𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 𝙰𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝙼𝚎:

I would definitely describe myself as a theater kid. I have been dancing for about 13 years, competitively for about 7 years.

𝙼𝚞𝚜𝚒𝚌𝚊𝚕𝚜 𝙸 𝙻𝚒𝚔𝚎:

The Outsiders

Hamilton

In the Heights

Newsies

Ride The Cyclone

Heathers

Beetlejuice

Mean Girls

Cabaret

Wicked

Tick Tick Boom

Into the Woods

Six

… and more!

𝙵𝚊𝚟𝚘𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚎 𝙼𝚞𝚜𝚒𝚌 𝙰𝚛𝚝𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚜:

The Beatles 💗

Taylor Swift

Olivia Rodrigo

Chappell Roan

Lorde

Queen

David Bowie

Billy Joel

Kendrick Lamar

Tyler, The Creator

Jason Schmidt

… and more!

𝙾𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝙸𝚗𝚝𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚜/𝙵𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚘𝚖𝚜 𝙸 𝙰𝚖 𝙸𝚗:

The Marauders 💗

Stranger Things

Daisy Jones and The Six

The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo

Anne With an E

The Perks of Being a Wallflower

Percy Jackson Series

Hunger Games

MLB/NHL/NFL

Almost Famous

80s Movies

… also a lot more which I’m happy to yap about!

𝙾𝚞𝚛𝚝𝚘:

That’s pretty much it. I don’t really expect many to read this, but if you did thank you so much for listening to me yap about my interests and such!

[lillipad72]

I have a controversial opinion in this community that I must get off my chest...I love Anne with an E!

Now let me explain a few things:

I do not like it as an adaptation of Anne of Green Gables, for I don't believe it is one; I think of it more as 'inspired' by Anne of Green Gables.

This came out, and I first watched it when I was thirteen. Therefore, I will also admit that I am biased because of nostalgia.

Those things considered, I will make an argument as to why this is my comfort show:

At thirteen, like most thirteen-year-olds, I was going through it. Friend drama, bullies, and an overall sense of not fitting in. All exasperated by undiagnosed autism. The summer between the seventh and eighth grades proved rough for me, and I spent most of the time alone at home. At that time, I watched the first season of Anne with an E. From the beginning, I could tell that this version of Anne was like me. I instantly connected with her and her struggles in an abstract sense. The situations she was put in, though different from the books, made me feel less alone in my struggle. Seeing Anne persevere through it all made me feel like I could also get through it. After breezing through it, I made my mom rewatch it with me, and she saw the connection between me and Anne and started calling me 'her Anne with an E.'

I grew up with Anne with an E, which helped me face my life's struggles. I am extremely grateful for this show because, for one of the first times, I did not feel so alone. I had a friend in Anne.

While I would scoff at this as an adaptation of Anne of Green Gables, if we take a step back and look at it as entertainment for young people, I think it is actually quite good.

***also I yearn for book accurate adaptations of aogg and the later books***