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idkitsjustmeandmyself · 1 year

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Warning: long rant about change and love below. I've been having Thoughts and decided to yell them to the void

i love my friends i love my friends i love my friends. i think it’s important to look back and see how much you’ve changed over the years and it’s easy to see the obvious things like interests and fashion and school but sometimes i catch myself thinking about just how much my thoughts have changed and i wonder how they’re gonna change later in life. i’ve been thinking about how the way i love and view love has changed a lot recently and how grateful i am that i get to love so many people so deeply, and i remember being a little kid maybe three or four and thinking about how much i loved the animals around me and i thought there was no way i could love anything more than how i loved the little june bug sitting on my hand or the grasshopper i’d been trying to catch for the past hour. i remember growing up a little more being maybe six or seven now and realizing how much i loved my brother, we were partners in crime and i cherished every moment we spent together, i remember feeling guilty because i knew i was supposed to love my parents as much if not more than i loved my brother but he raised me more than they ever did. i didn’t fully understand it at the time to me he was just my best friend and i didn’t understand why anybody wouldn’t be best friends with their sibling, and as i continued to get older i became aware of mental health and the impacts of depression and anxiety i watched my brother struggle with both these things and remember thinking how i wouldn’t be able to survive without him there next to me. back in eighth and ninth grade i used to brag about how little i cried, i would brag about how the last time i cried outside of a physical injury was when i was eight years old (which was true by the way) but freshman year i was confronted with many of my friends experiencing similar issues as my brother, they too were struggling with depression and suicidal ideation and again i felt guilty that i couldn’t get myself to cry over the thought of them dying, and i tried to think of every person i had ever loved dying and the only one that finally got me to cry was the thought of my brother dying. this was how i defined love, i mean i thought i loved my friends and the rest of my family and i did and i do but this separated my brother out from them, to me loving someone was when i couldn’t bare the thought of losing them.

a couple more years passed and i’m now dating my girlfriend, it wasn’t love at first sight and honestly i didn’t expect the relationship to last very long i was going for a short little fling something to occupy my time and keep me from getting bored but slowly i realized that i was falling in love with her, more than that she changed the way i loved and at first it was without me even knowing it. it took the general course of a relationship where it’s a bit obsessive then it’s comfortable then you can’t imagine or even remember your life without them. it honestly wasn’t until this past year that i realized the way i loved her was different than i had ever loved anything else. my love for her is infinite, it is an endless void that is all consuming. i can reach a hand in and pull out a miles worth of love and then i can reach in and pull out more. there is no direction there is no amount that would allow me to finally reach the end of it. i can think i’ve found it and think finally there is no way i could possibly love her more than i do right now, but then i go back and somehow there it is, still more. every time i am amazed and dumbfounded by how much love i have for her. there is so much that it flows into everything else i do. it is because of her that i know how to love all the things around me too.

i started this off by saying i love my friends because i do, i love them the same way i love my girlfriend, infinitely and ineffably. i think of my friends and i’ve never felt a greater joy, and i think of them again and again there is more joy and love then the last time i thought of them. before this past year i wouldn’t have been able to describe or understand what this kind of love feels like, i would’ve thought it was reserved for movies and poetry, a feeling to aspire to but never to reach. most of my friendships through out my life have been ones to keep away the boredom, they were friendships of convenience. i had them so i wasn’t alone at lunch and so teachers wouldn’t worry about me. they were there as a sort of interactive tv show, characters for silly stories that i could tell later on. there was no real connection, no matter how much i tried i couldn’t get myself to care as much as i had wanted to. i hadn’t really connected the dots until recently but it was probably because i moved around so much, why care about them if i was just gonna leave them in a year or so. this could explain why i felt connected to my high school friends more so than any of my other friends, i went to a boarding school so no matter where i lived i would still be able to to stay the entire four years, it was the most permanent a friendship had ever felt. i considered my high school friends to be the first real friends i ever had which i still think is true, but also remember thinking that was the most connected i could ever feel to someone which i know now is not true. i loved them and cared for them, but not in the way i love my friends now. the way i love my friends now impacts my entire world. it is because i love my friends that i also love the grass and the birds and the sun and the wind. it is because i love my friends that i also love classes and strangers and meals and studying. they taught me how to love the good things more and how to love the bad things too. the endless void of love isn’t big enough. even a void with no end or beginning doesn’t have enough space to fit all the love i feel and it overflows into the everyday. it leaks into loving the mundane and the gross because there is nowhere else for it to go. i never thought that i could love this much and certainly not for this many people. so i’ll say it again i love my friends i love my friends i love my friends

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collecting-stories · 3 years

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Cardigan - Rafe Cameron

Request: heyy for the ts anthology, can u do one for cardigan with rafe? love ur writing🤍

TS Anthology Series | Outer Banks Masterlist

_ . ◦ ⭐︎:*.☾.*:⭐︎◦∙._

The summer you turned thirteen was the same summer your dad showed up again. Driving the same lemon of a car that he’d pulled out of the driveway in when you were six, he looked like he hadn’t aged. Or maybe you just didn’t remember him all that well because his face felt the same but you were different. When you missed your best friend’s birthday, a trip to the gymnastics gym on the mainland and a towering cake with fondant replicas of all her favorite things, she was rightly pissed.

Thirteen felt monumental, like the movie the two of you had snuck onto your mom’s Verizon bill, and you had both made a pact that you would be there for each other no matter what. That promise included birthdays and, more seriously, dads who showed up after seven years of radio silence because they didn’t want to “miss anything else”. But you didn’t mention your dad because hers was so great and you felt a little like you were floating on an island and no one could understand you enough to reach it. But then you missed her birthday and she swore not to speak to you and that felt more crushing than the dad thing until her brother stepped in. Always the one playing referee in when you fought, Rafe was a few years older and, in your mind, a lot smarter.

It felt pretty important that an older boy would make the time to talk to you, especially when he had to know that his sister was avoiding you at all costs. He’d just gotten his permit and, like any good brother, showed up in the car he wasn’t supposed to drive with a minor in the passenger seat, to take you around the island for the afternoon.

“My mom said she thinks we’re gonna move.” You mentioned, less casually than you would’ve hoped. The windows in the truck were rolled down and you had your legs up, feet placed precariously on the window ledge. There was a particularly nasty bruise on your knee from falling off your skateboard three days ago and a few short hairs you’d missed shaving. You were relatively new to both shaving and skateboarding so there were bound to be mistakes, you just wished they were less visible.

“Off the island?” Rafe asked, concern etched into his tone. You assumed the concern was for his sister, what would Sarah do if you moved? Who would put up with all her antics?

You shook your head, “to the cut.”

“Why?”

“She can’t afford the house on her own anymore and my dad has been lousy with child support.” You repeated back all the things she had said to you. Why she didn’t take him to court like the other kid in your grade with divorced parents was beyond you. Rose told her that it was the only way to ensure he paid what he was supposed to but she hadn’t been able to bring herself to hold him accountable.

Can’t believe you’re gonna be a pogue.” He said it like it meant something worse than you moving to the mainland.

“It’s not forever. My grandma’s house is there, we’re gonna stay with her until we can get back up on our feet.” You shrugged, “at least my dad’ll stay away then.”

But you dad wasn’t the only one who kept their distance. It felt like the distinction over your mother’s life choices held a greater impact on your friends than they had let on. A year into pogue life and Rafe seemed to disappear almost completely. It had always been an odd kind of friendship in the first place but you’d thought that it could’ve withstood a change in address.

Sarah kept in touch, unbothered by labels or mailing addresses. She’d been to your grandma’s a hundred times before you moved and she continued to go there to see you after. The two of you played in the backyard, doing tricks on the trampoline until gossiping about kids at school became more important than cartwheels. You’d lay there whispering as if someone might overhear, telling each other stories from the week that you were separated. Rafe always came to pick her up, staying in the car and honking the horn for her but never coming over to see you.

It felt a little lonely even though you technically retained most of your friends.

In tenth grade you got the role of Eponine in the teen camp production of Les Miserables that the local theatre was putting on. You were technically sharing the role with another girl your age but you couldn’t help being excited nonetheless. The boy playing Marius was in two of your classes, a senior who had lofty city dreams and a nice smile. He flirted almost constantly with you, brushing your hair back, telling you how pretty you were, inviting you out after practice. You told Sarah you were “pretty sure” you were on your way to having your first real boyfriend.

But maybe the ominous casting of Eponine over your life should’ve been hint enough that things weren’t destined to work out that way. The boy who played Marius had an actual girlfriend, home from vacationing with her family in time to watch her boyfriend on stage, and you were supposed to accept that he was just “connecting to the character” when he was with you. Either way, your On My Own struck a different chord in you and after the show was over you didn’t join the other cast members in the lobby to greet people.

“So when you get to New York...do I get to leak all those videos of you and Sarah doing your Genie in a Bottle routine?” Rafe asked, pulling a chair next to you at the makeup table. Yours was halfway off but you’d stopped scrubbing at your face to stare at yourself in the mirror. Self-pity was a powerful procrastinator.

“You’re supposed to be in the lobby.” You pointed out, ignoring his comment, “I look like a ghost raccoon that just climbed out of a dumpster.

“Now there’s an analogy.” He laughed and picked up the cotton pads you had sitting on the counter, soaking one in micellar water and turning your head to face him.

You bit your bottom lip as you tried to keep your composure. It’d been a while since you and Rafe had been alone and last time he was just your best friend’s cute older brother. Too old for you and way out of your league but you were fifteen now and seventeen didn’t feel so far away.

But Sarah was your best friend and she would be mortified if she found out that you had even entertained the idea of her brother, let alone had serious thoughts about it.

“I’m sorry,” you said as he swiped the cotton pad over your cheek.

“What for?”

“I know we’re all supposed to go out tonight for dinner but I kinda just wanna go home.” You replied.

“Sarah might’ve let it slip about-”

You groaned, “don’t even say his name.” You weren’t sure if it was embarrassment at having let yourself totally believe he liked you but hearing Rafe bring it up made you feel even worse.

“Hey, you’re so much better than that loser,” He insisted, “I’ll beat the crap outta him though, just say the word.”

It was that same year, just as school was ending, that you turned sixteen. A short stay in the cut at your grandma’s house had helped your mom get back on her feet. A new job, better than the one that let her go, afforded a moderately sized house back on Figure Eight and a birthday with all the friends that had left the two of you behind.

Sixteen felt a little more important than thirteen had, especially because, for two whole weeks, time suspended and you were technically only a year younger than Rafe. You still hadn’t told Sarah that you liked her brother, though she did seem a little suspicious when the crush on your co-star dissipated almost overnight. The boys of the past had no hold over your growing infatuation with Rafe. Maybe it was foolish but you couldn’t help thinking that maybe it wasn’t.

Especially not when he showed up at your house the same way he had when you were thirteen, though this time he had his actual license and not just a permit. He told you it was birthday drive around the island, that he was in charge of stalling you while Sarah set up a surprise party at your house.

“I don’t think you’re supposed to tell me that it’s a surprise.” You teased, sipping at the iced coffee that Rafe had brought you when he picked you up. You swished the ice around once before sipping again.

“It’s a party either way.” Rafe replied, shrugging his shoulder.

“So, we’re just driving around until she texts you?” You asked. Rafe turned into the Island Club, circling the parking lot once and then turning back around.

“I’m yours until Sarah says otherwise.” He said, the words erupting butterflies in your stomach. You could practically feel yourself heat up thinking about what those words could mean if he wasn’t just your best friend’s brother.

“Well...then do you wanna go to the beach?” You suggested, “Jaxon showed me this really cool spot on the south side that’s practically hidden.”

“Jaxon?” Rafe sounded judgmental when he said the other boy’s name, whether he meant to or not.

“Yea, we’ve been on a couple dates. You know him, he took me to prom,” you supplied, thinking of the way Rafe had sulked on the staircase while you and Sarah had gotten your pictures taken on the front lawn of Tanney Hill. The last picture in the bunch, despite his sulkiness, was of you and Rafe. You’d asked and he had obliged, coming down onto the porch to take a picture with you before everyone left for the dance.

It was your favorite picture, even more than the countless ones of you and Sarah or the few of you and Jaxon. He was just a place holder anyway, someone to take your mind off the thing you couldn’t have. Not that it was working, especially when you were driving around with Rafe at the moment.

“I remember him.” Rafe replied, “so this special part of the beach?”

“It’s so pretty.” You confirmed, “Sarah and I went there a couple weeks ago but she only ever wants to sunbathe.”

“Don’t say it like you’re surprised.” He said, pulling his car off to the side of the road when you told him to.

You were out of the car first, letting the door fall shut behind you as you headed up the wooden ramp to the beach. The drop off at the top was a little steeper here than anywhere else, the beach mostly desolate. You stopped at the top of the walkway, turning back to wait for Rafe. He was standing at the bottom of the ramp staring up at you.

“Are you coming up or what?” You called.

“Yeah,” he nodded, walking up the path to you.

“I know Sarah’s planning a big birthday for me, but I’d much rather have this...” you admitted, “just like, coming out to the beach with you...”

“Oh yeah?” He asked, grinning down at you.

“Don’t tell Sarah,” you joked, “she’ll be mad-”

“Why, cause I’m your favorite Cameron?”

Maybe it was being sixteen or maybe it was that you were feeling particularly bold, out here on the beach with just Rafe, no threat of prying eyes to interrupt you. Either way, you had been thinking about telling him for a while now and it felt like the time...even if getting rejected ran the risk of ruining your birthday.

“I know I’m just Sarah’s best friend but...I really like you Rafe.” You said, “and I know it’s like a million to one that you like me back but I just felt like I would explode if I didn’t tell you.” You waited a beat for him to say something and when he didn’t you kept talking, “Sorry, I know this is so weird-”

“It’s not weird.” Rafe cut you off, “I’m just shocked that you seriously think I only see you as Sarah’s best friend.” His tone was teasing as he brushed a piece of hair behind your ear and cupped your cheek. “You’re so much more than that.”

It was Sarah who told you, days before your eighteenth birthday. She’d seen Rafe with someone else when her family took a weekend trip out to Chapel Hill to see a game. There was a girl there, hanging all over her brother. He swore she was just a friend, told Sarah not to tell you, but Sarah wasn’t dumb and she wouldn’t help her brother cover up an indiscretion. So she told you flat out that her brother was cheating on you.

When Sarah first found out that you and Rafe were dating, she had been as mad as her thirteenth birthday. How could you go behind her back and date her brother? The anger dissipated slowly, over the course of the summer it became clear that were not going to leave her in the dust for Rafe. She wasn’t wholly supportive of the relationship but she was supportive of you and if Rafe was who you wanted to be with than she’d be happy for you.

But if she had to choose, it would always be you over Rafe.

“I didn’t want to tell you, I really thought about not saying anything but...you deserve to know.” It was the justification she used as your face fell, all the giddiness from planning your eighteenth birthday fading in the blink of an eye.

“He cheated?” And it felt like a punch to the gut. “Are you sure?”

“He said she was just a friend but...I don’t hang on my friends like that.” Sarah remarked.

You fiddled with the phone in your lap, Sarah’s comments turning over in your head. You could refute them, tell her that you’d just talked to him the night before and he told you how excited he was to see you, how much he loved you. He’d used the word love...that had to mean something right? You could call him, ask him straight away if he was actually cheating, but you suspected that he would only lie to you. And if he wasn’t cheating, if he did tell the truth, would you believe him? Sarah was your best friend and once she had planted the seeds of doubt in you, they seemed to flourish there.

You didn’t say anything else about it to Sarah that night and when Rafe called to talk, like he always did, you pretended that everything was fine. But that could only last for so long. A week before your party, on the same special part of the beach that Rafe had first kissed you, things ended. Rafe had sworn to Sarah that the girl at school was just a friend but he couldn’t lie to you, and he didn’t try to either.

“It was a mistake,” he insisted, as if it was the type of thing you could brush off.

“But you still made it.” You replied.

“I didn’t mean to.” Rafe didn’t have any good reasons for why he had cheated on, only that he had and that, since you now knew, he was apologetic. “I don’t even talk to that girl anymore. She meant nothing to me.”

“Obviously she meant more than we did.”

Rafe had been it for you for a long time. He seemed so out of your league and you had thought a million times that you would’ve done anything for him. He was the ideal for everything that you wanted and for a while, when you had it, had him, it had felt like a dream. But now you were waking up to reality and it wasn’t a sunset on the beach.

“I love you.” He said it like it was something you were neglecting to remember.

“Not enough.”

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steves-on-a-plane · 3 years

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I'll Be There For You

For @star-spangled-bingo 2021

Pairing: None Cast Of Characters: Sam Wilson, Bucky Barnes, Steve Rogers & Rogers Daughter!Reader Warnings: Mild swearing, bit of teenaged angst from Reader Words: 2399 Squares Filled: Dad/Daughter Dance Summary: Reader is Steve Rogers' twelve year old daughter who has been left in the care of her two "Uncles" Sam and Bucky. Reader confesses to Sam & Bucky that she feels like she plays second figure to "Captain America" on her dad's priority list. Her uncles do their best to assure her this isn't the case and of course Steve Rogers swoops in at the last minute to save the day.

You opened the window, closed your eyes and inhaled deeply. You didn’t care that the wind swirling around outside was causing small pools of water on the sill as fat droplets made their way in side. You didn’t care that the air was thick and the sky was a chalky grey. It was raining and you loved the rain. Rain was cleansing. Rain meant that old things were being washed away and new things would grow in their place. Rain was comforting.

The apartment you lived in with your father was the opposite. The building was old and every other floorboard seemed to creak or crack. The windows rattled and no matter how much the two of tried to keep things clean, there seemed to be a perpetual layer of dust that settled over everything. It was somehow stuff and drafty at the same time. You want to be outside where the rain was, not stuck inside with your two babysitters.

“[Y/N], what the hell are you doing?” Your Uncle Bucky demanded as he entered the living room. He pulled down the sash, effectively closing the window and keeping the beautiful rain scents out.

“Buck, you shouldn’t say hell to kids. You shouldn’t swear at kids. Steve would have a fit if he heard you.” Uncle Same chastised as he followed into the room.

“[Y/n]’s not a kid, she’s twelve. That’s practically thirteen. She’s basically a teenager.” Bucky pointed out. “Besides it’s not like hell is a gateway swear. You think if she hears me say hell then it’s a matter of time before she moves on to some real swear like…"

“I’m going to stop you right there.” Sam interrupted. “I don’t see a scenario where that sentence doesn’t end in a word Steve is comfortable with [Y/N] hearing.”

“Uncle Sam you do know that I’ve been around Tony Stark before, right?” You asked. “And believe it or not the Avenger who swears the most is Dr. Banner.”

“That still doesn’t mean your Uncle Bucky needs to help you pick up any bad habits.” Sam then noticed the water on the windowsill dripping down onto Steve’s hardwood floor. “Where did all that water come from?”

“Little Rogers had the window open.” Bucky nodded at you. “She had half her torso sticking out a fifth floor window.” He shook his head. “I’ll go get a towel.”

“Were you really hanging out the window?” Sam asked as Bucky stepped out into the hall. He knew Uncle Bucky had the tendency to overreact. Not that he could blame the guy, you were the only kid Bucky ever spent more than five minutes with.

“No.” You answered, but the truth was you couldn’t be certain. “I don’t know, maybe.” You added.

“YES!” Bucky shouted from the linen closet, still out of sight.

“You know that’s dangerous, don’t you [Y/N]?” Sam reminded you.

“Yeah, but…” You tried to defend yourself.

“Yeah but do you think Uncle Sam or I want to have to call your Dad and tell him that you fell out the window when we were supposed to be taking care of you?” Bucky handed you the towel and motioned for you to start moping up your mess.

“Weren’t you the one who was just saying I’m practically a teenager?” You sighed. You then mumbled to yourself, “Besides, maybe if I fell out of the window he’d actually pay attention to me.” Sam and Bucky exchanged a look of confusion behind your back.

“What do you mean by that?” Sam probed. He wasn’t accusatory. His tone was soft, he waited for you to answer.

“He’s not here right now is he?” You tossed the sopping towel in your hands to the ground and turned to face them. “Lots of kids have parents who go away for work so I know I’m not that special okay? But I can’t help but wish he was home more. Even when he’s not away on missions he’s still in his office taking calls or filing reports or zoom meetings! It sucks!” You threw yourself down into a nearby armchair. You ignored the smirk from Bucky and the incredulous look from Sam as you swore. “Even when he tries to do things with me…Like last week, he wanted to take me out for ice cream. We didn’t even make it a block from the apartment before he was getting hounded for photos and autographs. I love my dad, but I hate Captain America.”

Sam and Bucky exchange another look. This time both their expressions seemed to say, “What do we do now?”

“It’s okay, you can say it.” You sighed, looking down at your feet rather than at either of them.

“Say what, Kid?” Bucky used the most affectionate nickname he could muster and he sat beside you on the couch.

“That it’s a really selfish thing to say and that Captain America does a lot of good and sharing dad with the Greater Good is a sacrifice I should be happy to make. You can’t think any worse of me then I already do.” You assured them, still not daring to make eye contact with either one of them.

“I don’t think that at all.” Bucky told you. You certainly weren’t expect that. You looked over at him. “I hate Captain America too sometimes.”

“You do?” You felt your eyebrows knit together. Uncle Bucky had been your dad’s best friend practically their entire lives.

“Of course. Steve Rogers is my best friend.” Bucky said. “But Steve Rogers is a skinny little thing who’s allergic to everything under the sun, and couldn’t fight his way out of a paper bag.” His description brought forward in your mind pictures you’d seen of you dad before the serum. Seeimg him like that always made you giggle. “Now Captain America, He’s a big beefy guy, he likes running and motocyles, thinks he’s so cool.” Bucky wrinkled his face in disgust. “You know what helps me, on my days when I’m really ticked off at Captain America?”

“What?” You inched a little closer to Bucky as if he were whispering a secret.

“I have to remind myself that some days, your dad hates Captain America too.” You opened your mouth to disagree, but Sam jumped in. He sat on the other end of the couch, joining the conversation.

“Remember that story you were telling us during dinner, that one friend you have…?” Sam reminded you.

“Jennifer.” You supplied.

“Right.” Sam nodded. “Remember how you said Jennifer’s mom told her that drawing is a waste of time so now even though Jennifer really loves to paint and draw she doesn’t bring her projects home from art class any more? This is kind of like that.”

“Riiight.” Bucky agreed unsure if your friend’s interest in art was the same as the point he was trying to make, but he’d give Wilson an A for effort.

“It’s the same thing.” Sam insisted. “Jennifer is comfortable sharing her art work with you, because she knows you support her. There are thinks your dad with share with us that Captain America might not share with the world.”

“Right.” Bucky nodded enthusiastically this time. “Like that magazine that published an Apple Pie recipe last month as ‘Captain America’s Signature Apple Pie.’ You and I both know your dad’s never made an apple pie in his life. He doesn’t even like apple pie that much.” You smiled again remembering the rant Uncle Bucky had gone on when he saw the magazine in the grocery store.

“You said your cat could probably make a better pie that dad.” You reminded him.

“And I still think that.” Buck assured you. “Our point, [Y/N], is that it’s okay to not be okay all of the time. It’s okay to feel like your dad and Captain America are two different people sometimes. But you have to talk about you are feeling. You have to tell your dad, Uncle Sam, me or someone else , because if you don’t you’re never going to feel better about it.”

“I mean I guess I feel a little better already.” You shrugged. “But I’m afraid to bother any one with my stuff. You guys are busy. Let me guess this is the part where you both say you’re never too busy for me?” You rolled your eyes. “Dad says that all the time, but he’s on a mission and not at the father daughter dance with me tonight. I’m sorry about the window.” You said getting to your feet. You picked up the towel from where you’d discarded it earlier.

“Father daughter dance?” Bucky mouthed to Sam behind your back. Sam shrugged in response. “Fix it!” Bucky replied.

“How?” Sam mouthed back. It was Bucky’s turn to shrug.

“I think I got most of the water.” You said, facing them again. “I’ll throw this thing in the hamper and then I think I’ll call it a night. Thanks for listening to me b-complain for a bit.” You decided not to chance swearing again in front of Uncle Sam.

“Bed?” Bucky jumped to his feet. “It’s not even five yet.” He glanced at his watch to confirm. “We should do something…”

“That’s fine, I think I just want to be alone for now. I’m sure dad will still be gone tomorrow. We can do something then.” You and your dripping wet towel started to make your way towards your bedroom.

“[Y/N], wait.” Sam also got to his feet. “Maybe Uncle Bucky and I could take you to your father daughter dance. I know it’s not the same because we’re not your dad, but other kids probably go with uncles or…”

“Jennifer’s moms are both taking her.” You smirked. “And I am the only one of my friends who wasn’t going. It could be fun.”

“What time’s the dance start?” Bucky asked. “Seven? Eight?”

“Seven, but I don’t have anything to wear. Everyone else was planning on dressing up.” You pointed out.

“If we leave now, I’m sure we can still find you something nice.” Sam suggested. “Maybe we can find a salon to do your hair.” He remembered how much his sister used to love getting her hair done special for dances when they were younger.

“What about the rain?” You bit your lip. You could tell they were really trying to make this work.

“You were about to climb out that window before I got in the room.” Bucky laughed. “I didn’t think a little rain would slow you down.”

“Okay.” You agreed. “Okay. Father-Daughter-Uncle Dance it is.”

“I’ll get my car keys. You put your shoes on and get a jacket. Last thing I need is you getting sick.” Sam instructed.

Two and a half hours later, Sam parked his car in the parking lot of your school. The dance was being held in the gymnasium. Miraculously, he had found a hair salon that was still open and willing to style your hair for the event. Apparently, a lot of parents in the neighborhood were taking their kids for cuts or styles in preparation of the big event. While you were in the salon, Bucky darted in and out of shops trying to find the right dress. He was on video chat with you or Sam the entire time and eventually the three of you settled on a pale pink dress with layers and layers of tule for the skirt. It had a shimmering silk sash that Uncle Bucky had tied into a perfect pink bow and the sleeves were flowy but not heavy. You felt like a princess.

“We’re late.” You frowned. “Do you think that matters?”

“Haven’t you ever been fashionably late before?” Bucky asked, opening the car door for you. He held a large umbrella in his hands so that neither of you would get wet. You noticed the rain had slowed down considerably since earlier.

Bucky and Sam had done their best to look put together for you. Uncle Bucky borrowed a pair of your dad’s old khaki pants and a charcoal grey button up shirt he hardly ever wore. You didn’t know where he’d found suspenders, but suspected they were your fathers too. Uncle Sam went for a more casual look wearing his cleanest pair of jeans and a maroon polo. When you entered the school gym, your homeroom teacher Mr. Jenson was selling and collecting tickets.

“Ah, [Y/N] Rogers. Who are your escorts this evening?” He asked while Sam paid for the tickets.

“These are my two Uncles.” You introduced them.

“It’s a pleasure to meet both of you.” Mr. Jenson smiled. “Enjoy the dance.”

For the most part you did. There were all sorts of desserts available. Bucky helped you taste test every single one before you both agreed the chocolate cupcakes were the best. You felt a sense of pride when one of the boys in your class tried asking Sam about his Falcon costume and he explained he was at the dance on official Uncle business. They’d have to save the Falcon talk for another time. You introduced them to all of your friends and told everyone how amazing it was that they’d put everything together so last minute for you. Both Sam and Bucky took turns making sure you got in as many dances as possible. What had started as a boring afternoon had turned into a pretty good night.

“I think I’m ready for bed.” You yawned as you sat down next to Sam. The night had begun to wind down and you were getting tired.

“One more dance and then we’ll head up.” Bucky told you.

“Uncle Bucky I don’t know if I’ve got one more dance in me.” You yawned again.

“Too tired to dance with your old man even?” A familiar voice asked from behind you. You pivoted in your seat to see your dad standing behind you. He was dressed in his best suit, your favorite navy blue one, and held a bouquet of wildflowers in one hand.

“Dad!” You jumped to your feet and hugged him.

“You didn’t think I’d miss the chance to dance with my best girl, did ya?” You Dad asked. You took the flowers he offer you and placed them on the table between Sam and Bucky.

“Thank you.” You whispered to both of them before following your dad out to the dance floor.

#Sam Wilson #Bucky Barnes #Steve Rogers #Rogers!Reader #Rogers Daughter!Reader #Uncle!Sam Wilson #Uncle!Bucky Barnes #Dad!Steve Rogers #Fan Fiction #Fan Fic #FF #SSB2021 #StarSpangledBingo

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slut4aizawa · 3 years

Text

The last class meeting

A/N; this is sad

A/N 2; your favorite character dies

A/N 3; I am having a tough week at the moment but I hope everybody is doing ok

Prompt; The pro-heroes failed at stopping The League and now the world is ending.

Trigger warning; mentions of blood, slight insinuation of torture, angst, death

Y/N pronouns; they/them

---

“OBC News with a terrible update;

All Might has been declared deceased.

This is our final broadcast as the League villains have since set off a bomb big and strong enough to destroy more than just Japan. I hope everyone has time to contact those they love, and may your G-d be with you when it hits. Kane J signing off for the last time. Good night Musutafu.

Denki clicks the remote and the dorm common room falls silent.

“All Might’s dead?” Sero whimpers.

“We all are.” Bakugo spits. “We’re all dead because the heroes couldn’t stop the villains. They killed us.”

“Bakugo, you should make peace with this before it happens. You don’t want to die with all of that hatred in your heart.” You suggest, putting your head down. “They did their best.”

“Don’t tell me what to…” Bakugo starts his usual banter but realizes it’s futile at this point.

All of class 1-A is in the common room, their eyes previously glued to the television to find out the verdict of their now-dead mentor. Nobody is crying. You think they’re all in shock. You’re not crying either.

“I guess we should call our families,” Mina pulls out her cell phone but sees the service has gone. “Never mind.” She put her phone back in her pocket to her pajama shorts. “I can’t even say goodbye to my parents. My mom must be worried sick.”

The room is filled with silent mutters, maybe prayers, maybe admittances of regret, you swear you can hear one or two proclamations of love from your fellow classmates. Even Ochako grows the confidence to grab Deku’s hand with a whisper of ‘I’m scared’.

“Class, I’m sorry.” A gruff voice breaks the tension, the group turns around swiftly. It’s Mr. Aizawa all beaten and bloodied. His face is barely recognizable, his hair is stuck to his face with his own blood, and probably others as well. You’re surprised he even made it back to the dorms. He collapses to his knees and his head is bowed.

You stand up first to help, he’s barely sitting up on his own. Momo and Hagakure follow closely.

“Momo and Hagakure please get the first aid.” You get on your knees to be at his height as well so you can fully assess his damage and the girls go off to find the first aid. “Mr. Aizawa, you shouldn’t apologize for things that you can’t control. You all did your best. We all know that…” You pull his hair back and see that his eyes are gone. You let out a small gasp, but he grabs your wrist.

“Don’t tell them,” He quietly cries. “I don’t want them to be even more scared than they are. I’m sorry you had to be the one to see, but I know you can keep it together so I’m glad it was you. I’ve always known you were special.”

You’ve never seen Mr. Aizawa show emotion like this. It really is over.

Your classmates come back with the first aid, but you tell them Mr. Aizawa doesn’t want it, and he just wants us to sit together and appreciate each other in our final moments.

“Thank you all for being such an aspiring class.” You help Mr. Aizawa find his way to the couch. All you can think about is how his blood is going to stain it. “You truly were the best students I ever had. I’m honored I got to teach you. You all have such great potential. I’m sorry I couldn’t stop the League soon enough for you to be able to show it off to the rest of the world. You all had the drive to be the number one hero.” You sit next to your teacher, and he gives your wrist a slight squeeze. “Thank you for showing me what it means to be a good teacher with a greater purpose.”

“Mr. Aizawa…” Iida smiles. “Thank you for everything you have taught us.”

The class gets closer to each other in a huddle. You can tell it’ll happen any minute now. The bomb. It’s just a gut feeling.

“Mr. Aizawa, I have to ask you, my dad…” Todoroki begins to speak and Mr. Aizawa sighs before sniffling and shaking his head. “I see then.” Todoroki moves his eyes from the teacher to the floor.

Kirishima and Tokoyami, who are on either side of Shouto, rub his back to try and comfort him.

“I’m sorry, Todoroki. Most pro-heroes didn’t make it. Endeavor, Midnight, King Orca, Best Jeanist, Ms. Joke, All Might… They all showed up and tried to stop them, but it just wasn’t enough. There was more to them than we expected. I was the only one who escaped. But what I saw-“ He cuts himself off and thinks about his next words. “They all died very quickly and painlessly.”

You haven’t been very close to Mr. Aizawa, he is a very closed guy after all. But you could tell he was lying. What he actually saw was the pro heroes dying in terrible ways. He was only granted mercy after his eyes were removed. That physical pain was labeled as a relief to the alternative of watching his friends and coworkers die off.

You look to your left and see Katsuki sitting by himself away from the group. He’s the only one not in the huddle.

“Bakugo? Why aren’t you sitting over here? We’re all saying goodbye.” You try to inch him to sit with you all.

He slowly stands up and his eyes meet yours, they’re empty. As soon as he sits, he huffs and mutters out his last words.

“We’re so young. We’ve barely lived. We’re just kids.”

It was as if Katsuki’s words were the final nail in the coffin, everybody soaks them in and beings crying. Even you shed a tear. Not for yourself, you’re dying, which is sad, but you’re really only worried that all of your friends are dying as well. The classmates that helped you through so much and fought beside you on multiple occasions. You always imagined that they would live full lives of success and triumph. You would help them be the best they could be, even if that meant failure for yourself. And now they’re going to die at your side. And there’s nothing you can do to help; all you can do is sit and watch in hopes that you go last so they all have someone to die with.

Shortly after Class 1-A’ revelation of death, a boom can be heard from the other side of Japan.

“It’s here.” Kirishima chuckles. “I guess I’ll see you all on the other side. Maybe we can save more people there.”

“Goodbye class. You did well.” Iida sits up tall, staying strong as class rep, staring at the blast head-on.

And just as if you were seeing light for the first time, it was also your last.

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dolliedarlin · 4 years

Text

⏤l o v e s t r u c k

s u m m a r y : you have a quirk called 'animate' and it's very emotions-based, meaning that if you feel a very strong emotion, you're able to animate things and however strong that emotion is, the stronger it is the things you animate. Also, the pupil of your eyes can change shape or colour in accordance - red for anger and blue for saddness. In battle this is useful for animating weapons and such, however, when you fall in love...it's usefulness isn't always straightforward.

a / n : this is my first time writing for bnha characters so i'm really sorry for any inaccuracies in personalities. also, i, unfortunately, have only been able to think of this imgaine concerning bakugou and todoroki. even so, please enjoy the read!

w a r n i n g s : profanity by the obvious culprit

k a t s u k i b a k u g o u

❥ it happened when you saw his passion and drive during practice...

❥ You always held a deep admiration for people who knew what they wanted and fought for it no matter what. Those were your parents, pro heroes who fought for the greater good as well as each other, and you, so you wanted to be like them and make them proud.

❥ Not only that but you were also a fanatic about LOVE.

❥ Your parents may have only had you as their only child but the insurmountable amount of love they had for each other would give birth to over a hundred children.

❥ You wouldn't have minded having younger siblings but you knew that your parents, being pro heroes themselves, were already risking too much with having their relationship public as well as their status as parents.

❥ By hearing them always gushing over how wonderful it feels to be in love and to be loved back as well as seeing how they act around each other - still a pair of love-struck teenagers in love - you were eager to meet the love of your life and fight for him

❥ During training or instances when you have to fight, it's that want to love and be loved that also fuels the power behind your animations. This power has only strengthened the instant you found the person you were destined to stand with forever.

❥ Bakugou Katsuki.

❥ The moment you took the time to look at him, really look at him and understand who he was was during tests and hero training.

❥ He's a skilled fighter with passion and drive. Admittedly, he's as explosive as his quirk and as rude as rude can get but you saw through that every time his eyes narrowed into a focused stare whenever he was fighting or studying.

❥ It really shows through how passionate he is about becoming the number one hero and you found yourself falling hard for him every time you saw the fire behind his eyes.

❥ It was just so attractive; your little heart couldn't take it!

❥ The time you really fell for him was during the final exams. Yes, he was stubborn but only because he was so determined. Yes, it was a struggle and they almost lost all home but he never gave up. He was the perfect one for you.

❥ Although you were worried and scared for them at the time, your heart skipped many beats and you soon found those hearts being animated around you as you watched on, worried but falling deeply in love.

❥ You know very well that he can protect himself but your love for him encouraged you to protect him at all costs, especially when you saw him in such a vulnerable state. He was never like that so you swore to yourself that you had to get stronger so that he'd never have to be in such a state again.

❥ Not only that but you had to get stronger for yourself as well as Bakugou.

❥ You wanted to protect him but also be worthy enough to stand by his side.

❥ It became easier to train after having fallen for Katsuki, actually. Now that you had someone in mind to push you forward, someone to visualise being by your side through tough times the way he would be there for you as well, only helped you grow stronger and stronger.

❥ Over time, it became obvious to everyone, even Bakugou how deeply in love you were with him. Not a day goes by without you losing your focus during class only to stare at your ash-blonde classmate with animated hearts floating around your head and hearts in your eyes.

❥ Because of that, you found your grades slipping and even though you asked super nicely, even offering a shoulder massage, Bakugou refused to tutor you.

❥ "Now get out of my way heart eyes!" he snapped at you as he shoved you to the side

❥ "But darling~" you whined, "how can I ever hope to become the perfect wife for you if I don't have a good enough education?"

❥ "HEY! Who said I would ever be marrying you?! And Stop Calling Me That!"

❥ "Oh! Would you prefer 'honey', instead? Or 'sweetheart'? Or 'love of my life'?" by now he was a blushing mess but he still had a snarl on his face. The pink in his cheeks was a win for you though so even if he continued to refuse, you wouldn't mind.

❥ "I don't prefer any of those shit names! Now Leave Me Alone!"

❥ "Fine," you grumble with a whimper and he almost felt guilty at the sad look that crossed your delicate features, "I'll just ask Midoriya-kun for help instead-"

❥ "My room! Bring your shit! 6 pm! Don't be late!"

❥ "Oh Darling~ I knew you wouldn't say no to me~"

❥ It was amusing really, to everyone except you and Bakugou, to see your interactions with each other. You were too in love to notice anyone's teasing whilst Bakugou kept being pushed over the edge by his supposed 'friends'.

❥ "Friends my ass," he grumbled as they whispered behind him about how hilarious it was to watch you pinning for him.

❥ It wasn't funny! It was serious! You were serious about him and he knows it, you said it yourself.

❥ "Stop overdoing it dumbass," he glares down at your exhausted, panting form. It seems as though you were doing extra training atop his tutoring sessions.

❥ "but..." you looked up at him with a tired smile, "I can't be the perfect wife until I'm strong enough to stand beside you..."

❥ He didn't know what to say except for, "I'd rather have a wife that can cook and have good grades at school than a dead one from fatigue," he helps you up and takes you back to the dorms. He didn't know why the hell he said that but you didn't say anything so he assumed you just didn't hear him in your worn state.

❥ After that day, however, you insisted on cooking every day and finally got your grades up. You almost beat him in scores, actually. It was surprising but it proved how serious you were about your love for him. He almost became soft for you.

❥ "Stop doing so much heart eyes," he growled as he saw you making breakfast in the early morning.

❥ "But I need to become a good wife for you, Darling~" you chirped happily as you poured him some apple juice, "and to do that I have to be a good cook - just like you said!"

❥ "Tch! How are you so sure you'll stay interested? You'll find someone else eventually," Bakugou always saying nonsense thoughtlessly whenever he was around you and it was beginning to get on his nerves. He didn't care about this shit, so why in the hell was he saying it to you?

❥ "Nonsense," you huffed adorably, hands on your waist as you turned to him with a frown after lowering the heat on your heart-shaped cinnamon pancakes, "you're the love of my life, there's no one else on this earth that I would ever want except you Katsuki," you flashed him a close-eyed smile, "You're my one and only, Darling~"

❥ He begins to shout out of habit before turning away so you don't see his blush, "Shut up with that bullshit! Your dumb pancakes are gonna burn!" you didn't see his face did you?

❥ In your perspective, you still had a long way to go before you could ever reach Bakugou's standards and finally stand by his side when in actuality you had unknowingly made him want to stand beside you by just being yourself.

s h o t o t o d o r o k i

❥ it happened when you saw him smiling for the first time...

❥ The moment you first met Todoroki, you were determined to make him your friend.

❥ No matter how many times he had pushed you away, you were never deterred, in fact, it only fueled your determination in befriending him.

❥ It hurt you to see someone so closed off and without a clue as to how amazing it felt to feel loved and return that love, whether it be romantic or platonic.

❥ You wanted Todoroki to feel that beautiful feeling as well.

❥ All your life, you always had a very loving home with many younger siblings that you adore taking care of. Despite the occasional tantrums that they would act out, they were still the sweetest kids in your eyes and you would do anything for them

❥ Obviously, growing up in such a warm environment made you a very compassionate and empathetic person, even your quirk stemmed off of that which proved to be an advantage in your journey to becoming a hero

❥ The more emotional you were - regardless of if you were extremely happy or angry - that became your source of power in battles, meaning that the things you animated became all the more powerful on the field. The more you wanted to save someone from evil, the stronger you were.

❥ That was the obvious advantage but...that wasn't the case for when you wanted to be subtle about feeling intense emotions like...

❥ falling in love

❥ You didn't expect it with Todoroki, however.

❥ At the end of the day, he was your dear friend through and through. It took a lot of hard work and persistence for him to finally put his trust in you and return your friendship

❥ You didn't want to sabotage all that hard work. He was just beginning to reciprocate your friendly gestures, gestures that you would almost cry over each time because it felt like such a big step for him.

❥ It made you feel such pride when you saw him lose the cold look in his eyes and finally relax when talking with others and engaging in friendly activities

❥ Admittedly, Todoroki was still blunt and clueless to some things but he had all the time in the world to work on that. Having already taken the first step himself, the momentum for his exploration in emotions and opening up to others had begun and you're sure everything will just fall into place after that.

❥ Of course, he still needed some assistance so you had been helping him understand certain emotions and why people would feel a certain way under different circumstances.

❥ It was honestly the cutest thing and you were beyond happy to help satiate his curious mind on various topics he never had a straight answer for.

❥ EXCEPT for studies...he was better than you in that regard most definitely- yep! He's the one that needs to help you if that were the case.

❥ "I don't understand how you could get such a simple question wrong, (Y/N)..." he mused, genuinely dumbfounded at how horribly you failed at answering the practice question.

❥ "Please just help me, Todoroki-kun," you whined, flushing in shame at how horrible you were at English.

❥ "I apologise," he gives a soft bow of his head as you smile and wave off his apology before... "but I really am curious, even a little bit concerned for you,"

❥ "Just help me!"

❥ Not only did you need help in studies, you needed help with hero training. So you trained together. The two of you were dedicated students and always provided great input on ways of improving technique and approaches towards attacks. You made a perfect oblivious pair.

❥ The time your feelings decided to show was when the two of you had just finished sparing and it had been your turn to pay for an icy treat as a reward for such hard work. After making a short stop at the convenience store, you were now on your way back to the dorms happily chatting with ice creams in hand.

❥ "Is it weird to want to become closer to someone..." Todoroki stares at his icicle curiously, "someone that's close to you and is always there for you?" he feels a warmth in his cheeks that he's always having to suppress around you, it was never easy but he always succeeded.

❥ All he had to do was just think about you being in danger and being unable to help. That set his flustered state back to normal right away despite the sinking feeling he felt in his heart.

❥ "It's normal to feel that way," you assure, taking another taste of your ice cream, "there's no shame in that and it's definitely not weird,"

❥ "Oh," you flash him another reassuring glance as his lips tug up into a soft smile, "I'm glad,"

❥ That was when it happened.

❥ The setting sun had framed his smiling figure with a soft glow and you were instantly the victim of his content disposition. You knew he was handsome but...he looked all the more ethereal when he was smiling - smiling in the sunlight.

❥ The glow made his hair look like freshly fallen snow beside polished rubies as his eyes, one grey and one a paralysing blue captured the twinkling essence of the sunshine perfectly. His chiseled jaw cast a shadow across his neck, further defining his proportioned features as his angular nose gave him the desired picture-perfect side profile.

❥ If he didn't resemble the embodiment of perfection then and there, you don't know what did.

❥ As you stood dumbfounded, Todoroki had turned around, having walked several steps ahead of you and was stunned into his own silence.

❥ There you stood, a meter or so behind him with animated red hearts floating around your head, your stare was fixed solely on him as you let your coned ice cream gradually melt under the heated gaze of the sun; it's stickiness attempting to glue your fingers together.

❥ This wasn't the first time he had seen your animate quirk illustrate your emotions. He remembers you explaining that whenever you felt a strong emotion, whether it be happy or sad, you would lose control of your quirk and it would animate whatever it was that you were feeling.

❥ One time, you had ranked really low on an English test and a raincloud animated itself above you before it proceeded to soak you in rain. That day he had let you borrow his blazer to avoid Mineta's perverted staring and offered his tutelage on the subject.

❥ This is new. He wonders what strong emotion you were feeling. Hearts...what did hearts represent? Love...right?

❥ He looks around before his eyes landed on your icecream. Did you love your ice cream so much that you didn't want to eat it and just let it melt in your hand? He frowns. No, that can't be it.

❥ Could it be him?

❥ "(Y/N)..."

❥ if only he smiled more...-no!

❥"(Y/N)?"

❥ That would mean more people would see his soft handsome features and you can't have that! You are the first person he showed that side of himself to so you should be the only one allowed to ever witness it again-right? Or is that too selfish-?

❥ "(Y/N)?!" thankfully, Todoroki was able to successfully snap you out of your daze.

❥ "O-Oh! Sorry Todoroki-kun," you blushed in apology, looking to the side in embarrassment, only to squeal in shock horror when you notice the hearts floating around you. Shouting nonsense in between constant 'I'm sorry's, you waved the hearts away, "I-I'm really truly s-sor-"

❥ If it weren't for Todoroki taking your free hand in his own and tugging you back along the way to the dorms once more, you would have uttered your hundredth apology but, instead, you were left a stuttering and blushing mess, your animated hearts making their comeback floating around your head.

❥ As soon as you're right next to him, he lets go of your hand and pulls you closer by the waist. By now the hearts have begun to float around him and, although you were embarrassed beyond belief with your gaze fixed to the floor, Todoroki smiled even wider before leaning down to gently kiss your temple

❥ "Now, I know you weren't lying to me," this caught your attention albeit you were still a flustered mess of a person, "this feeling is so normal the other person feels the same way too, right?"

❥ You didn't know how to respond to that. Smile or faint from too much blood rushing to your head?

❥ How about both?

n a v i . | bnha mlist

#bnha x reader #bakugo x reader #todoroki x reader #bnha imagine #mha x reader #mha imagine

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kalimagik · 4 years

Text

Pretty Gryffindor I Didn’t Know

Fred Weasley x Gryffindor!Reader

~4,900

Warnings: Talks of a rough home life (not too bad), but there is a lot of fluff!

A/N: So, I can write fics that don’t have a song as my inspiration. This one came from a dream that I had and I altered it to fit the Harry Potter Universe a little better! Enjoy the fluff and the sweet, thoughtfulness of Fred Weasley! If you enjoyed reading it, please like, reblog, comment, or even follow! <3 I love hearing what you guys think! (Also, I swear I write for more than Fred, but I just have a lot of him that I love)

*Not my GIF! Credit to owner

Y/N breathed in the London air. Her family moved around a lot and currently, they were in Greater Manchester, so they needed to stay in London a few days in order to get her new school things from Diagon Alley. Her parents were a little hands off, so most of Y/N’s life had been her raising and looking after her little brother. However, when she went to school, she was on her own.

Oh yeah, Y/N was a half-blood with who went to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. She would be starting her 4th year, so luckily she didn’t need to worry about the O.W.L.s just yet. She was in Gryffindor, but tended to stick with her friends from childhood, most of whom were in Ravenclaw, so she hadn’t gotten too close to her house in the past 3 years. But, it being a new year, her parents were pushing her to do this.

Y/N woke up in her bed in the Leaky Cauldron, sun shining outside and sounds of the cars from the muggle side of the hotel streaming in her window.

“Y/N! Are you ready to go to Diagon Alley for our things?” Y/N’s younger brother asked. He was beginning his first year at Hogwarts and could not wait to get started with his magical education.

“Give me 20 minutes to get ready and then I’ll be good to go,” Y/N yawned, getting out of bed after already being awake for about an hour.

Coming down the stairs, she found a breakfast plate for her with her family and noticed a loud family not too far away who seemed to be finishing up breakfast. She recognized the boy who lived, who was a year below her, and the strew of redheads. They were all in her house, but she’d never really gotten to know them.

“Y/N!? Are you ready?” Oliver asked excitedly about 10 minutes after she came down.

“Yeah, let’s go,” she smiled, ushering her brother from the Leaky Cauldron to the entrance of the magical alley. “Did you get our lists from mum and dad?”

“Yep! They’re getting us some surprises or something before we leave. You know it’s only tomorrow that we go, right?”

“Oliver, I’m very familiar with how going to school works,” Y/N laughed, tapping the brick wall to reveal an extremely crowded Diagon Alley. “You need to stay close to me, understand? Mum and dad would kill me if I lost you here. So don’t go wandering off!”

“Yes, MUM!” Oliver emphasized.

Starting at Madame Malkin’s Robes for All Occasions, Oliver got new school robes and Y/N updated her ones that were too small. They then headed to Ollivanders where Oliver was able to pick out his first wand. Y/N had never seen her brother so excited.

Next was Flourish and Botts. Y/N had never seen it so crowded. She managed to get in with her brother and find their books, but getting back to the entryway was proving difficult. Oliver had gone out before her, but when she tried to squeeze out the door, another witch was coming in and her foot caught Y/N’s.

Y/N felt her balance go completely off center. She was free falling towards the cobble stone street and down the few steps in front of the shop. Y/N braced herself for impact when she felt her momentum stop. Her fall just stopped. She turned her head to make eye contact with a tall red head. And, he was pretty handsome too.

“You alright there, love?” he asked, standing her up right on the road. “It’s pretty crowded out here, you gotta watch where you’re going.”

Y/N felt a blush creep onto her face. She knew he was a Weasley twin. He was infamous at school and she’d been around a time or two for their pranks.

“I’m Fred by the way,” he smiled as Y/N straightened up to meet his deep brown eyes.

“Uh– umm, I’m Y/N. I actually think you’re in m-my house,” she stupidly pointed out.

“A cute girl like you in Gryffindor? Ridiculous! I would’ve definitely seen you,” he flirted.

Y/N felt the blush deepen and butterflies rise in her stomach. Oh how she wished she wasn’t in such a bright and public spot.

“Freddie, who are we talking to over here?” the other Weasley twin joined.

“Apparently this pretty girl is in our house. Can you believe it?” Fred quipped.

“Blimey! How did we miss her?” George countered.

“Y/N, we told Mum and Dad that we would meet them at Florean’s soon,” he urged, pointing at his watch.

Y/N turned from the twins remembering that her little brother was with her.

“Right, sorry, Oliver.”

“Can’t keep the little man waiting, now can you?” Fred smiled widely at Y/N. “Need anyone to accompany you to make sure that you don’t fall again?” he joked.

“Uhhh, I should be able to stay on my feet now. Thank you,” she blushed again, not used to the attention. Y/N quickly pushed her little brother and hushed his questions about who the boys were. Although, while she was walking towards the ice cream parlor, she swore that she could feel someone’s gaze burning into the back of her head. Not wanting to look any more like a tomato, she kept her eyes forward.

_______________________________________________________________________

Pushing the short encounter with the elder Weasley twin to the back of her mind, Y/N finished packing her trunk for school. Her parents would drop her and her brother off at King’s Cross Station and she’d have to get them through the barrier. Most years it was just Y/N who had to go through the wall, but this year she got to show her brother how to do it for the first time. She’d always loved him so much that his excitement about the new experience made it seem like her first time all over again.

“Bye Mum. Bye Dad. Get home safely,” Y/N said, hugging and kissing each before leading her brother through all the muggles at the busy station.

She stood back as they gave her brother some last minute advice and then their parents retreated to a more secluded spot to apparate back home. It was just Y/N and Oliver once again.

“Common, we don’t want to be late!” Y/N smiled as she pushed her cart, urging Oliver to follow.

Once they loaded their things onto the train, Y/N asked Oliver if he wanted to share a compartment with her and her friends, but he opted against it.

“I can’t make any friends myself if I’m with you all the time, Y/N,” he rolled his eyes.

She laughed at his antics. He really was growing up and it was weird. Y/N felt as though she had always been an adult, but Oliver had stayed a little kid for as long as she could remember.

“Okay. Make sure you put on your robes before we arrive. I’ll see you at the feast after the sorting ceremony, okay?”

He nodded and ran with his trunk down the corridor of the train. Y/N headed in the opposite direction, hoping to find some of her friends.

“Oh, hello, Y/N,” a girl the year below her waved. Y/N didn’t spend much time with her, but they’d often be the last two in the Common Room at night finishing homework. Most of Y/N’s friends were Ravenclaw after all, so she refused to fall behind in school.

“Hello, Hermione. Did you have a nice holiday?”

“Wonderful! My family traveled to France. It was just brilliant! How was your summer?”

“We moved again, but I got to help my brother prepare for Hogwarts,” she smiled sweetly.

“Excellent! I have to go find Ron and Harry, but I’ll see you at Hogwarts!”

Y/N waved as the girl ran towards the end of the train. She went back to her search for her friends, but when the train lurched, she settled for the emptiest compartment. Her friends would have to find her.

Struggling to get her trunk into the compartment, she was finally in enough to shut the door. Now she had to get it up on the luggage rails. Why was this part always so difficult?

“Need a hand there, Y/N, pretty girl who I didn’t know was in Gryffindor?”

Y/N jumped as she hadn’t even noticed who was in the compartment to begin with.

Turning, she was once again face to face with that boy that had caught her from falling.

“Fred,” she smiled, “Thank you. I guess you’re just going to keep coming to my rescue, huh?”

“I could definitely get used to that. After watching you, you seem to be pretty accident prone. You could use a strong guy like me looking out for ya.”

Once again, Y/N felt the heat rise to her cheeks and those dang butterflies moving around her stomach. Not really knowing what to say, she stood there, biting her lip and looked around. It seemed that the compartment she chose held Fred, his twin, and Lee Jordan, the boy who commentated the quidditch matches.

“Sorry, the train started and I couldn’t find my friends, so I just stumbled into a compartment. I can leave if you all need the seats,” Y/N apologized.

“Nonsense!” Fred waved his hand, “We’ve always got a spot for the pretty Gryffindor girl, right Georgie?”

Y/N’s blush deepened. It did not help that boys rarely flirted with her and Fred doing so, so freely messed with her.

“Oi, Freddie. Isn’t this the girl you saved from imminent death in Diagon Alley yesterday?”

“Just the one, Georgie!” Fred replied, not breaking his focus from Y/N’s face.

“You haven’t shut up about her since we saw her last!” George burst out laughing.

Fred dove at his twin, shoving a hand over his mouth to quiet him. Y/N couldn’t help but giggle. It was amusing after all. The sound of her laugh made Fred stop immediately, taking in the angelic sound. How had he not met this girl before?

“Why don’t you have a seat,” Lee suggested, “they may be at this for a while.”

Y/N sat, enjoying the company of the boys she happened to stumble upon. It really was a happy accident. She was making friends in her house like her parents wanted her to. Eventually, her friends did find her and ask her to come join them in their compartment. Y/N didn’t want to leave Lee and the twins, but she finally gave in.

“I’ll save you a spot at the sorting ceremony,” Fred called before the compartment door slid shut.

In the other compartment, they mostly did last minute studying before arriving at school, but when the train slowed and became icy cold, Y/N lost all motivation she had. She forgot about the butterflies that Fred gave her. She forgot about the excitement she felt for her brother to be starting at Hogwarts. All she could feel was sadness. She felt as though no one in her life loved her. She felt as though her parents regretted having children. She felt alone. It was horrible.

When the lights turned back on and the train started moving, Y/N didn’t recover immediately. She sat there, immobilized, but her friends didn’t notice. It wasn’t until a familiar redhead peaked into the compartment that she could move.

“Hello ladies, just checking in on everyone after that massive mood dropper. Y/N, are you okay? Need anything?”

The special attention returned those silly butterflies and warmth to her cheeks. Her only response was a head shake with little to no eye contact. Fred wanted to say more, but George called his attention. Apparently Draco was giving Harry a hard time for fainting from the dementors.

When asked about the reappearance of Fred Weasley by her friends, Y/N just denied anything. Responding that she had only just met the boy the other day. Luckily, they didn’t think too much of it. Realizing what had just happened, Y/N rushed around in search of her brother.

“Oliver, are you alright?” she asked when she finally found him towards the front of the train.

“I’m fine. You don’t have to worry about me,” he spit back. That wasn’t like him, but she did see he was with a bunch of other soon to be first years, so he probably wanted to look cool.

“Okay. I’m just checking. Don’t forget to put your robes on, we’re almost to school…”

_______________________________________________________________________

The whole student body was a buzz with what happened on the Hogwarts Express. As she rode in the carriages, Y/N blocked out the conversations. Her mind was stuck on her brother’s attitude. What was wrong with him?

Everyone filed into the castle and Y/N made her way to the Gryffindor table. Meals were always the worst for her. She didn’t really have anyone to sit with at the large house table normally, so she’d read or work on homework. She wasn’t sure where’d she’d sit when her name was called.

“Oi! Y/N! Pretty Gryffindor I didn’t know, come over here.”

Y/N couldn’t stop the smile from growing across her face. She’d forgotten that Fred said he’d save her a seat. Plus, she could get used to the ‘Pretty Gryffindor’ nickname, but maybe not the ‘I didn’t know’ part.

“Have an entertaining rest of your train ride?” he asked as she sat down, George chuckling under his breath across the table. With one small glare from Fred, George turned to pick on their younger brother.

“Pretty uneventful. Just did some reading.”

“Love, we have got to get you some more entertaining friends. I think you ought to hang out with Georgie and I a bit. We could use your brains if you’re as smart as I’ve heard people say you are on the train.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow. Who was talking about her intelligence? Catching her confusion, Fred stuttered on, “I mean, Hermione mentioned how you’re usually up late with her. You sometimes even go to bed after her. That shows brains.”

Y/N finally found her voice and was able to quip back, “oh, you’ve been asking about me have you?”

Even if the tops of Fred’s ears began to redden, he was quick to reply. “Seeing as you’re a fourth year and I didn’t know you, I had to do my research!”

Y/N laughed as the doors to the Great Hall opened, the first years all shuffling in nervously. She couldn’t help but point her brother out to Fred. “He’s that one. I’ve been waiting for him to come to Hogwarts. It’s so exciting to have a sibling at school,” she beamed.

“I’ve never been at Hogwarts without a sibling and I can say that it’s not that exciting, sorry to burst your bubble.”

Y/N laughed, but was quickly silenced by the entrance of the sorting hat. It sang its song and talked about the four houses. Y/N silently hoped that Oliver would be placed in Gryffindor, but she wasn’t sure if that was really his personality. But, no matter where he was placed, she’d be proud of him. Her father was a Ravenclaw and her mother a Hufflepuff, so intense house pride didn’t quite matter to the family.

The sorting ceremony went on and the last names were rolling through, once Professor McGonagall reached ‘R,’ Y/N began to listen again.

“Remington, Oliver!”

Y/N watched as her little brother climbed the stairs to the three legged stool and put the hat on. He seemed to sit there for forever. Much longer than the rest of the other first years. Thinking back to her sorting ceremony, Y/N realized that her sorting had taken a long time too. The hat rambled between three houses and read her thoughts and memories. It was very set on the fact that she was strong-willed, a leader, a caregiver, intelligent, but also resourceful. But obviously, it ultimately placed her in Gryffindor.

“and it will be…SLYTHERIN!”

Y/N’s jaw unintentionally dropped. She figured maybe he’d be placed in Hufflepuff because of his light hearted nature, but Slytherin? Loud cheers came from the table at the far end of the hall and Oliver jumped down the stairs to join his new house. This was weird.

“You okay, love?” Fred turned, looking concerned as McGonagall continued to read through the names.

She just nodded, looking down at the empty dishes in front of her. Had she missed something in her brother’s personality? She looked over to the table doused in green and silver. He sat there with a few other first years and the prefects nearby. However, he was sitting, facing the Gryffindor table. When she managed to make eye contact with him, he waved excitedly. That slowed the pounding heart beat in her chest. He would still be the same boy she knew, she was sure of it.

Still pondering how her brother was sorted into Slytherin, Y/N didn’t listen to what Dumbledore said about the dementors and she played with the food that appeared on her plate. She certainly didn’t notice Fred Weasley watching her every move.

_______________________________________________________________________

A few weeks had passed, classes began, and Y/N had settled her emotions surrounding the sorting of her brother. They’d eat meals together at least three times a week and would study together on Wednesday and Sunday evenings. Oliver had even introduced her to some of his new friends. They were all nice and a mix of kids from all the houses. She was extremely pleased that they weren’t all Slytherins who believed in blood-status hierarchy.

Another new constant was Fred and George as well, but mostly Fred. He would catch up with her in between catches, start to ask her opinion on pranks, and even study with her when she was up late. When he was around, the butterflies never went away. At this point, she was pretty sure that he didn’t know what she looked like without flushed cheeks. He still called her ‘Pretty Gryffindor I didn’t know,’ but the ‘I didn’t know’ part seemed to be dropped more and more often.

“Good evening!” Fred elongated as he sat at the same table as Y/N in the Common Room. “I noticed you weren’t at dinner this evening. Why’s that?”

“Snape assigned our class a 5 length essay and I have potions two days in a row, so I had to finish it on top of the History of Magic assignment that I have,” she sighed, pulling out a new ink bottle.

“He can’t give you so much work that you miss dinner!”

“It’s fine. Really. I had a large lunch. Plus, I’m used to not having every meal every day.” Y/N explained without thinking about what she was saying.

“Why do you say that?” He asked, now concerned.

Shit. Y/N realized she was about to open a bag of worms that she had never opened with anyone else. She normally kept her home life and her parents ‘hand off approach’ to herself.

“You can tell me, you know…” Fred encouraged gently.

Y/N bit her lip, deciding if she should or not, but it was Fred and he’d already made her school life so much more than school and studying with her friends.

“Really.” With this last bit of encouragement, he placed a hand on her arm that rested on the table and didn’t hold a quill.

Sighing once more, Y/N explained the situation simply. “Growing up, my parents have always focused on other things. Where to travel. How to continue hanging out with their friends. They had me pretty young and I don’t know if they ever grew up. My grandmother was around a lot when I was little, but then she died when I was about 5, so I didn’t have her anymore. And then I had my one year old brother to worry about too. Breakfast is easy enough for a 5 year old to handle, but it wasn’t until I was 8 that I could actually cook things, simple things. We always got lunch or dinner, but rarely both. My parents do love my brother and I, but they just may not have been cut out for parenthood…”

Fred sat there silently. Y/N had learned enough about his family to know that he never had to deal with anything like this. But what surprised Y/N the most, was that he stood up without a word. Before he left through the portrait hole, he turned and said, “don’t move, okay?”

Y/N sat confused, not entirely sure what was happening. She heard the portrait open again and spun quickly, hoping it was Fred. It wasn’t, but it was the closest thing to him.

“Hey, Y/N!” George said, making his way to her.

“Hi, George.”

“How do you know I’m George?”

“I’ve got my ways,” she smirked, “Plus, Fred just left.”

“Where’d he go? I was meant to meet him in here after he talked to–” George cut himself off quickly.

“After he talked to who? I’m the only one who’s been in here.”

Y/N watched as George sat there, hitting himself mentally. She could tell he was struggling with something.

“George?” she pushed again.

“Okay, Y/N. I’m going to tell you something and my brother might kill me. Do you really want that on your conscience?”

“What?”

“UGH! Fine. Fred may or may not fancy this girl he met this year who’s apparently a Gryffindor from the first day that he met her,” George blurted in the most roundabout way.

Before Y/N could respond, let alone process, the portrait hole opened again. In walked Fred with all types of food piled up. What was this boy doing?

“Pretty Gryffindor, I’ve brought you the dinner that you missed! Oh, Georgie,” Fred paused in front of the fire.

“What have you got there, Fred? You’ve brought a whole feast!” George exclaimed.

“Well, Y/N here didn’t make it to dinner as you noticed earlier, so I figured I’d bring her some,” he told his twin, sitting the food onto the table. It filled the whole table. Y/N even had to put her potions essay to the side.

Y/N hadn’t yet said anything, but stared in disbelief. This had to be the nicest and most thoughtful thing that anyone had ever done for her. Not to mention, George had just told her that Fred maybe or maybe not fancied someone who may or may not be her.

“See anything you’d like to eat?” Fred asked, turning his attention to her.

“Fred. This is amazing. How– how did you get all of this?”

“Georgie and I may be some favorites of the house elves in the kitchen and know how to get there. They’ll normally load us up with anything we need,” he grinned ear to ear. “You need to eat something. Hogwarts has 3 meals a day and that means that you get 3 meals a day.”

“You didn’t need to do this,” she stammered on, looking from Fred to George. George was not helping this situation. The boy had his face hidden from Fred and was winking as well as making kissy faces towards Y/N. Real mature.

“Yes, I did. I told you, you’re rolling with us now. We keep things entertaining.”

“Fred, I had nothing to do with this,” George threw his hands up, pushing his chair back and standing up from the table. He now made his way behind Y/N’s chair so that only Fred could see him. He made hand motions for his brother to talk to the girl sitting down at the table, mouthing “if you don’t do it now, you never will!”

Then, the twin spoke up. “AHHH! Man, I’m tired. I’m going to go up and catch up on some sleep,” George animated.

“Georgie, it’s only 7:30?” Y/N questioned.

“What can I say, carrying out brilliant pranks makes me bloody tired! Good night!”

Y/N waved and turned to look at the plates and plates of food in front of her.

“So, where shall we begin?” Fred asks, rubbing his hands together.

The girl could only shrug and begin eating until she was truly full. Fred also sat next to her eating despite the fact that he already had dinner. He didn’t want her to have to pig out on her own.

“Freddie, you may have fed me into a food coma,” Y/N giggled, leaning her head on the back of her chair. “How am I going to finish this potions essay now?”

“Seeing as how it's only 8:15, I’m certain you’ll be up until 2 AM anyways,” Fred smirked.

“You’re not wrong, but I could do with a nap now and that fireplace is looking super inviting.” Y/N’s mind wandering to a million things besides her potions essay as she looked at Fred for a witty response. Without thinking about it, she stood up from the table and laid on the couch in front of the fire. Fred sat on the floor so that their heads were essentially in the same place. Her mind went back to her thoughts about him. He couldn’t possibly fancy her, her. She didn’t think that any boy in Hogwarts had ever fancied her.

To fill the silence, she spoke again. “Thank you for doing this, by the way. It was really, really sweet.”

However, Fred looked nervous. A look that Y/N was not used to seeing on his face.

“Freddie? Is everything okay?” She was forgetting all about what George said to her just earlier.

“I want to ask you something…” Fred eased.

“Okay? You can ask me anything,” she smiled, hoping it would comfort him.

“So, you know how there’s the first Hogsmeade trip this Saturday? Well, I was just wondering if you would want to maybe go with me?”

“I’d love to,” Y/N beamed. “I thought you, George, and Lee told me you were going to make me come,” she chuckled, being oblivious to the fact that he was asking her in a different aspect.

“Well, yeah, but um, I was actually wondering if maybe you’d like to go with just me, not George and Lee too. Kind of like a date because well, Y/N, I kind of fancy you.” Fred paused before looking up from the table to meet Y/N’s piercing E/C eyes. Merlin’s beard, they were pretty.

Then that red color that was ever present rose into her cheeks as a wide smile formed on her mouth. “A date you say?”

Fred nodded, unintentionally holding his breath as he waited for her response.

“Of course I want to go on a date with you, Freddie,” she replied, turning on her side so that she was facing him.

Fred’s eyes lit up to his normal level with a little extra twinkle.

“Although, if I’m going on a date with you, I should probably tell you something…”

Fred waited in anticipation.

“Before you brought all of that food, George sat and had a chat with me. What were his words? He said that ‘Fred may or may not fancy this girl he met this year who’s apparently a Gryffindor from the first day that he met her.’ Please don’t kill him though, I think he was trying to help you out, but is that Gryffindor by chance me?” she asked almost timidly at the end.

Fred’s face became beet red and was illuminated by the bright fire behind his head. Honestly, it was redder than the hair on his head if that was even possible.

“Freddie?”

Her saying his name like that, softly and airy, really did him in. “Sheisdefinitelyyou. YouwerejustsocutewhenwefirstmetandIcouldn’tbelievethatIhadnevermetyouandthatmyluckhadchangedintheabsolutelybestway!” Fred spit out in one breath.

“What was that?” Y/N released a laugh from the back of her throat, coaxing him to say it slower.

“That day you fell into my arms and I caught you, there was just something in your eyes that stuck with me. I bloody well think it was love at first sight. I couldn’t stop thinking about you. Then, imagine my luck when you backed into our compartment. George has used silencio on me too many times when I can’t stop talking about you. It’s really becoming a problem. You’re just so sweet and wonderful and caring and perfect!” he rambled, but slightly slower this time.

Y/N’s smile grew larger, if that was even possible as she reacted in the only way she thought would fit. She slid her head forward on the couch so that her lips met his. Sparks seemed to jump from between them in the blissful moment.

Well, it was blissful until George, a little too loudly, said, “Merlin! Finally! Took you long enough Freddie!” from the stairwell.

Fred clenched his eyes shut as he flicked his middle finger towards his brother, refusing to separate from the kiss, but Y/N couldn’t help but laugh hysterically. She rolled to her back, clutching her stomach. Only a twin would spy on a moment like this for nearly an hour after saying he was going to bed.

“Ignore that git!” Fred shot towards his brother as he got onto the couch, pulling Y/N into him. “I guess you can’t be the ‘Pretty Gryffindor I don’t know’ anymore,” he whispered in her ear.

“Well, you could just make a variation. You’re pretty good at coming up with those.”

“Alright, Pretty Gryffindor I get to date,” he beamed as he cupped her cheek to pull her in for another kiss.

#fred weasley x reader #fred weasley #fred weasley x gryffindor!reader #harry potter #harry potter x reader #george weasley x reader #gryffindor #fluff fics #fluff #kalimagik #happy reading

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Top 7 CN Shows That Would Work Better in Live Action than PPG

So I think everybody’s talked about why CW Powerpuff Girls doesn’t work, whether or not it’s a real thing or not? Who even knows. But while thinking about how this:

is kinda awful for Powerpuff Girls, I got thinking what shows that this style of a reboot would work for. In which it’s live action, the character is depressed and has sort of resentment towards their childhood now and that sort of thing.

So what are the top 7 shows that I think this

Number 7:

Foster’s Home for Imaginary Friends

At Number 7 we have Foster’s Home for Imaginary Friends. Seems fitting that we’d start the list with another one of Craig McCracken’s biggest hits. Why do I think the premise of “Oh, life sucks now and I kinda wasted my childhood” would work for Foster’s? For the plain and simple fact that for a few episodes of the show, there was a focus on Mac growing up and whether or not he should leave his friends at Foster’s behind him. You could play a lot with that concept combined with the live action reboot thing. Maybe an older version of the character is dealing with whether or not to let go of both Bloo and the past and move on with his life. Frankie being a young adult during the time of the original show could also be a pretty instrumental character since it was a matter of living there, caring for the friends, having that job and balancing this life with the life that she had outside of the house.

Not quite a coming of age story but a sort of “Hey, my life has gone nowhere and where could I go with this now? Do I keep the friends I loved and cherished as a child or move onto other things? Is there a way to do both?”

Only thing I wouldn’t want though is CGI monstrosity friends. Those would be kinda the worst…

Number 6:

Okay, let’s actually talk about a real superhero show this time around. Or would this count as a superhero show? Well, they certainly do a lot of cool time travelling so I’m gonna say it’s a superhero show. Of course, I mean Time Squad.

Now if you haven’t guessed, I don’t have the most experience with this show but I know enough to think that this is something that could actually work well. I mean, Otto was a kid who was basically running around all over history protecting the balance of time with a stuck up robot and a dude who is a little too into all of this. Imagine if he just sorta did this for all of his childhood and realizing as a young adult that “Crap, I didn’t really have a childhood.” With the dynamic of the squad, the potential to expand the greater organization as a whole and just all the time travel shenanigans that could happen, I don’t see a reason not to do it.

Plus, CW already has Legends of Tomorrow and that’s awesome so even less likely to screw it up if they’ve already got a model to do it off of right?

Number 5:

The Marvelous Misadventures of Flapjack

Yo ho ho, it is a sailor’s life for me. And in this sailor’s life we’re coming in with Number 5: The Marvelous Misadventures of Flapjack. Now this is a bit of an odd choice, right? But hear me out.

Flapjack as a child kinda had only Bubbie and K’nuckles as guides for his life. While they mostly spent their lives at Stormalong Harbor, they also constantly spent their lives looking for Candied Island. What if they never stopped looking and eventually, little kid Flapjack is a grown up now and he’s like “Oh wow. I wanted adventure but I was kinda manipulated to follow this creepy old man’s dreams of candy.” I think going heavy and hard on this sort of found family between them would be kinda fun. How K’nuckles wasn’t the best role model and how they’ve still only got each other in this world, that sort of thing.

Plus, a live action Stormalong would be sooooooo cool.

Number 4:

Ben 10

As the old saying goes, it started when an alien device did what it did, stuck itself upon his wrist with secrets that it hid, now he’s got superpowers he’s no ordinary kid, it’s Ben 10.

And unfortunately in CW’s Ben 10, he’s not a kid who just wants to have fun. Nah, he’s got a lot of emotional stuff to deal with and all of that depressing stuff. Isn’t it great? Now I do think that this could work especially if you work it in where maybe Ben enlisted into the plumbers after his summer vacation and it just kinda escalated from there to the point where here he is now.

Say what you will, but at least with Ben 10, we’ve seen it hit a more grounded and emotional place with Ben 10 Alien Force and Ultimate Alien so I don’t believe that this would be too far of a stretch with how that show worked and a lot of people happened to really like those iterations of the show.

Granted, I actually do want a CW styled Ben 10, but less edgy Arrow style and more along the lines of The Flash, but I’d still take this too.

And now before we get into the top 3, let’s get into a few honorable mentions.

First up, we’ve got Steven Universe. Now honestly, this could work really well, the only issue with that is that we’ve kinda already seen this story told and that was with Steven Universe Future. Good stuff and a lot of potential, but we’ve seen it and I don’t think we need to see it again with a live action coat of paint.

Next up there’s Codename Kids Next Door. Honestly, I think the only real spinoff we need for Kids Next Door is Galactic. That’s it. Anything else is unnecessary. Still, with this sort of concept an older KND who has been decommissioned and feels like there’s something missing in their lives that they just don’t understand would be really cool. Although maybe that would work as like a movie or special or somethin’ I don’t know.

And finally for the last of the honorable mentions we’ve got Teen Titans. While I am trying to keep this list to CN Originals, I couldn’t help but bring this one up. How Long is Forever is one of my all-time favorite episodes of the 2003 series so I think seeing a series taking place in that timeline or something similar would be a lot of fun maybe for like a miniseries or something. And honestly, anything’s better than Titans.

With those three out of the way, back to the list.

Number 3:

The Life and Times of Juniper Lee

In a world full of monsters and demons, June is the only one who sees them. This is the Life and Times of Juniper Lee and it makes number three on my list.

Now, like Time Squad, I didn’t watch much of this show. But what I do know about this show is that June is cool and she’s got this whole legacy and destiny by being the newest Te Xaun Ze, which are basically the magical protectors of her town. Only problem, and why I think that this direction for this show would actually be kinda cool, is the whole thing that the Te Xaun Ze is never allowed to leave the town at any point in their lives and oh boy, you could actually go really hard on that with this format since it’s literally built into the show.

Juniper Lee all grown up and just straight up depressed because she’s got the cool powers and grabs all the monsters but everyone around her has moved on in their lives. Friends have gone off to college and started all their lives and she’s got nothing but her family in Orchid Bay. You’d have a story of someone who once was big on their destiny who has accepted it but wishes that it wasn’t theirs anymore. I do know the show dealt with this a bit but with a new continuity and an older version of the character you really could just go in and deep on this.

I stand by that this would actually be pretty cool and kinda want it. Honestly, I like this idea so much that I wasn’t sure whether to put this in the number three or the number two spot, but y’know what? The next show told me a little secret that gave it the edge.

Number 2:

The Secret Saturdays

That’s right, it’s the Secret Saturdays.

Zak Saturday went all around the world with his parents discovering ancient cryptids, protecting the world and everything. He got some cool siblings in Fiskerton, Komodo and Zon. And then to add on top of that that he’s also the reincarnation of an ancient cryptid set to rule and control all the cryptids in the world? Yeah, that’ll do it. Definitely not the type of life he asked for and kid went through a lot because of it especially after losing those powers and apparently getting them back if we’re to count the Omniverse crossover TGIS to be canon.

But having parents like Zak’s, everything with the community of Secret Scientists and not really having many friends his own age or well, his own species will do that.

Exploring Zak and maybe Argost coming back for powers he might not want anymore and learning to embrace his destiny while also trying to patch up the Saturday family would be awesome.

Number 1:

Dexter’s Laboratory

Now while I know we already have a live action Dexter and it was an incredible hit, I- Wait, not the same show.

Ahem, Dexter’s Laboratory makes the top of this list. Partially because of it being PPG’s sister series but also partially because of the whole thing of there’s a lot you could do with Dexter’s character in terms of depression. If someone with such a high intellect were to somehow lose it all or just in some way, never really got forward in life, that would do it. Dexter could be a type of character that’s too stuck inside his own head in order to move forward. Alternatively, maybe Dexter is highly successful but has found there’s something missing in life or something. I dunno.

But whichever way you decide to go with Dexter’s character, you could have Dee Dee be pretty much the opposite of that. Maybe she’s found herself a place in life that she’s content with and Dex doesn’t understand why but wants it. I think going deep on this sort of emotional aspect of his life while also having all sorts of fun crazy science stuff would be a good watch.

All in all, gimme a Dexter’s lab show but we gotta make sure he keeps some form of an accent. No accent is a dealbreaker.

Although, I think that at the end of the day, animation should really just stay animated and that we don’t need to go live action for anything. All of these ideas I’ve presented, I’d of course rather prefer as cartoons with a more balanced tone more than anything but I figured with the announcement of a PPG show, this would be a silly but fun idea to talk about rather than ranting about it like most have. Granted, I’ve got some rants of my own since I still think it’s a bad idea. Haha. But you know how it goes.

At any rate those are all the shows I think would make better CW PPG style reboots than CW PPG. When it comes to the edginess and potential for drama, I feel these shows fit the bill better than the innocent, buttkicking action that was the Powerpuff Girls.

But what do you all think? Do you have any shows in mind that I haven’t mentioned? Do you think I’ve opened Pandora’s Box and given The CW more awful ideas?

Now, this was originally a YouTube video so you can probably see that in the way that this post, especially the ending was written, but I just still don’t really have the energy to edit stuff so have this post instead. It’s something I really wanted to discuss and just decided, hey, why not make it a Tumblr post?

#Cartoon network #PowerPuff Girls #live action remake #cw powerpuff girls #Foster's Home for Imaginary Friends #time squad #The Marvelous Misadventures of Flapjack #ben 10 #steven universe #steven universe future #kids next door #codename kids next door #codename knd #knd #galactic kids next door #Teen Titans #The Life and Times of Juniper Lee #secret saturdays #dexter's laboratory

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51kas81 · 4 years

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Twelve Dreams of Dr Sardonicus by Spirit

My parents were desperate for me to like classical music, but I just couldn’t buy into the length of the pieces. Then they played me Adagio for Strings by Samuel Barber and it was so beautiful, I cried. My school music teacher, Mr Vassal, asked for our favourite composers; I said Samuel Barber and he laughed at me. But eventually everyone caught up.

There was a Beatles versus Stones vibe at school. I was on the Beatles side. The first single I bought was Wild Thing by the Troggs and the first album was Bookends by Simon and Garfunkel. I loved Father and Son by Cat Stevens, because it made me think of me and my dad. My tastes weren’t shocking; they just needed to open up. Then, when I was 17, I went to hospital to have my tonsils out and my brother bought me some records and this mobile turntable in a suitcase.

Twelve Dreams of Dr Sardonicus by Spirit had the most amazing way of manipulating stereo. I was just blown away. I have to thank my brother; he turned me on to Joni Mitchell, Andy Pratt and Little Feat and opened up my boundaries.

Little Brother, Little Sister

My mother, Helen Shingler, was famous during my teens for playing Madame Maigret in a BBC series based on the Georges Simenon stories. My father, Seafield Head, was a producer and director at Verity Films, the documentary film company. Every year, a family friend’s mum would hire this huge barn and put on a play. I had a bit part in The Jackdaw of Rheims. The next year, I got to be the Emperor in The Emperor’s New Clothes. As I walked through the audience, all heads turned towards me and I remember thinking: “This is what I want to do for a living.”

I applied to the National Youth Theatre and the Central School of Speech and Drama, but I didn’t get in, so my father hired me as a runner and assistant editor. Working in the cutting rooms was fascinating. Then I enrolled at The Young Stagers at the Thorndike theatre in Leatherhead, run by this lovely woman called Joan MacAlpine. She directed me in an extraordinary piece called Little Brother, Little Sister, which got me into the London Academy of Music and Dramatic Art. My teacher said: “If anybody can make me cry, I’ll take them to the theatre.” I did my piece again and made her cry.

The Rocky Horror Show

I remember being taken to The Rocky Horror Show on Kings Road when I was at drama school in my late teens. Tim Curry was playing Dr Frank-N-Furter – the role that he repeated in the film. Watching The Rocky Horror Show ignited something in my core. I knew I had acting in my blood because of my mother. Now I couldn’t wait to finish drama school and try to make it in the real world.

I finally got to play Dr Frank-N-Furter when The Rocky Horror Show came to the Piccadilly theatre in 1990. The exciting thing about acting is that you shouldn’t know what’s coming out of the actor’s mouth next – and I didn’t hold back. I just let whatever was going on inside of me come out in the character. That was life-changing for me as an actor. It made me realise that there’s nowhere that you can’t go.

Friends would come to see me perform and later say that they hardly recognised me, I was so out of character. As an actor, that’s a huge compliment.

Judi Dench

Judi Dench and Maurice Denham in 1966’s Talking to a Stranger. Photograph: Everett Collection/Alamy

One of Judi Dench’s early roles was this show on BBC Two called Talking to a Stranger, with Michael Bryant, Maurice Denham and Margery Mason. It’s about this family who are at odds with each other. Each of the four parts focuses on one family member’s view of what is going on around them. I thought it was beautiful, amazing and absolutely genius and I just fell in love with Judi. I thought that she was the most amazing actress – and still do. Judi taught me that acting can be at its best when it is very subtly underplayed. The core of believing an actor is buying into the fact that they’re not acting.

I got to play the rather unpleasant suitor of one of her on-screen daughters in Love in a Cold Climate on the BBC in the early 00s. I’m sure I must have said to Judi: ‘I think you’re so wonderful.’ Actors need appreciation and recognition. I suppose for me that will always be for Buffy, because Buffy was so different and so pivotal for its time. The episode called The Body, where Buffy’s mum dies, is the most extraordinary piece of writing and misdirection. I’m very grateful to have done so many evocative things that so many people have latched on to.

Paul Newman

Robert Redford and Paul Newman in 1969’s Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid. Photograph: Photos 12/Alamy

I love Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid. Each act is so brilliantly put together; it’s a stunning piece of writing. Both Robert Redford and Paul Newman are phenomenal, but Newman especially I’ve always loved, because he’s so believable that he instantly transports you into the story. I also loved Henry Fonda in Once Upon a Time in the West, in which he plays the baddie, which is unusual.

I often get cast as baddies. I don’t know why. I play Rupert Mannion on [the Apple TV+ sitcom] Ted Lasso. He’s a particularly unpleasant character and a complete narcissist, but you know where he’s coming from. To make somebody believable, you have to see their point of view. You don’t need to like them, but you have to be on board with what’s driving them.

I’m also in an episode of the new series of Back with David Mitchell and Robert Webb. I get to play a totally self-absorbed character called Charismatic Mike, who was great fun to play. It’s always been my theory that actors are hugely insecure, which is why we love dressing up and being someone else, because we don’t have to be in our own heads and bodies. Then we can express things that we may feel deep down and blame it on the character.

Lord of the Flies

At drama school, I really liked the people on the stage-managing course who were studying things like costume, lighting and prop-making. People used to say: you have to behave like a star to be thought of as a star. So, traditionally, a lot of actors take stage managers for granted.

I get very cross with actors who just throw their clothes on the floor. I said to one actor recently: “Costume are here before you, setting up your clothes, and they’re here after you’ve gone. Pick up your clothes, put them on a hanger in your cupboard. It’s not a big deal.” Teamwork is important.

At school, one of the books that blew me away was Lord of the Flies. It’s also about teamwork and not necessarily someone standing in front becoming the leader. In your teens, the world is yours to do what you want with. As you grow up, you realise you’re just part of something much bigger. Now more than ever, life should be about teamwork and for the cause of the greater good.

School’s Out Forever is available on digital from 15 February and DVD and Blu-ray from 12 April

#anthony stewart head #anthony head #headnews21 #interview #school’s out forever

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marveloustrauma · 3 years

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so, I'm clearly seeing things that aren't there

okay...

I am truly ill prepared for the next MCU phase. why you ask? well, when the MCU first launched their debate film IRON MAN in 2008 I was but 10 years old. I grew up along side many of these characters, some I love more than others it's true, many who were not treated well by the writers/producers and some who have come to pass. while watching a video essay the creator pointed out how the MCU's titular hero and villian are both fathers. Thanos sacrifices his daughter in exchange for the soul stone and the 'greater good'. that's because in Thanos' mind wiping out half of all living creatures is considered a 'correction', a 'balance' must be kept and Thanos' is willing to sacrifice his own daughter in order to do so. in Gamora's (2018) famous last words "no. this isn't love". Thanos is toxic he claims to love his children but he tortures them, destroys them, harms them and kills them (both directly and indirectly).

Tony doesn't become a father until after the events of Infinity War, yet throughout all 3 phases of the MCU Tony Stark/RDJ is considered the 'father' of the MCU. In IRON MAN 3 Tony all but adopts young Harley, in CIVIL WAR & HOMECOMING this motif is pushed even further with Tony mentoring Peter Parker. seeing Tony being a positive father figure for so many young characters is clearly a well thought out part of Tony's character arch. this is even more important to think about when you consider how Tony didn't grow up with the best dad around (granted Howard/Tony's relationship needs to be discussed in a different post cause there's a lot to cover there). it's made clear to the audience that Tony had a difficult relationship with his father (in the comics it's flat out abusive, the MCU's writers treated Howard Stark kindly being more of dismissive and passive-aggressive towards his son). in the first 2 Iron Man movies Tony works to move out of his father's shadow, this is somewhat achieved in CIVIL WAR when Tony creates B.A.R.F. which allows him to work though the emotional trauma of dealing with his parents passing (as well as other things too probably this man has serious mental health issues). this progress is hindered towards the end of CIVIL WAR but Tony still manages to reconcile with his demons enough so that when he meets his father again in ENDGAME he now understands Howard a lot better. at this point Tony himself is a father to Morgan, he knows he can't be the perfect father (Tony has struggled in the past with doing the 'right thing' AVENGERS: AOU is a good example for this). if Tony wants to build a brighter future for his daughter and avenge the fallen he has to sacrifice his own life. and he does. Tony lays his own life on the line and is finally able to rest...

-- EXCUSE ME WHILE I FUCKING SOB REAL QUICK CAUSE FUCK I'M NOT OVER HIS DEATH --

unlike Thanos Tony makes the sacrifice play if Tony truly wants to correct what has been wronged he has to take on the full repercussions. yes it means never seeing his daughter again but Morgan gets to live, his daughter gets to live her life vs. Thanos' choices which lead to the death of many of his children even his most precious Gamora (who he murdered). Thanos is an abusive and selfish father. Thanos is very similar to the father Tony grew up with, the core of Tony's demons and insecurities and when faces them, faces Thanos Tony is brave, he is resilient, he is the protector. Tony does not give up to the bitter end telling Thanos the truth, "I am Iron Man". Tony knows who he is. He is the man who will make the sacrifice play for his friends, his comrades, for all living creatures and for his daughter. Tony is a good father, damnit his the best

-- HOLD ON THESE FUCKING TEARS --

for 11 years I called Tony my father. sure I had my ups and downs with the character no one ever has a perfect relationship with their parents and yeah, he is fictional. however, I'm an introverted kid with no father who will claim me and here is this amazing and wonderful character who is shaping my youth. idealizing Tony as my father is no different to someone else claiming their favorite character is their best friend or closest companion. your comfort character as they would say.

this is why I appreciate WANDAVISION so much! besides being pure perfection for a great number of reasons the Disney+ show captures all the many stages and feelings associated with grief. it makes sense for this show to be the sequel to ENDGAME (the show takes place roughly 3/4 weeks after the events of ENDGAME). Wanda is helping us all move forward and accept the death of the characters who were slain so that the story could have a 'happy ending', a win for the heroes and death to the enemy.

now sadly, I am still recovering. and that's okay. I know that even after their gone these characters are still a part of me, just like Vision is the part of the Mind Stone that resides in Wanda. they are eternally connected and bonded.

FAR FROM HOME deserves a mention ofc. The film focuses on many things so for me the time given on Tony/Peter's relationship doesn't go into full depth, personally. yes we discuss Tony's legacy within the film however FAR FROM HOME doesn't have the same gut wrenching stomach twisting effect as WANDAVISION (these are all personal opinions. mine might not be the same as yours). still it's worth mentioning as Tony's much darker past makes an appearance, a darkness in the form of Mysterio who comes rushing straight for Peter. a son bearing the sins of his father. in the beginning of the film this weight is crushing Peter, he is unsure, grieving and far too young for all of this. yet by the end, Peter knows who he is. he knows the truth and Mysterio "can't trick... [him] anymore". Tony trusted him, Tony beieved in him and for Peter that's enough.

where was I going with this...? oh right!

I'm sad and depressed as fuck. I am eternally grateful to Robert Downey Jr.'s for his portrayal of Tony Stark. I'm so incredibly impressed with this character's arch and I love the idea of two father figures battling it out with the loving, kind and supportive father like Tony Stark winning over an abusive nut sack like Thanos.

the MCU has this strange line that they walk. on one hand there are themes, motifs and stories that feel incomplete, not yet fully realized. just short of greatness. then there are these well thought out methodical almost philosophical at times stories that are being written right before our very eyes. I suppose this is what 'family entertainment' is. as a kid I looked up to my heroes believing nothing could harm them, because the hero would always win and get to go home. as a young adult I know that the greatest heroes makes the greatest sacrifices which means... they don't always get to go home. and... that's okay because I know that Tony can finally rest knowing that his family (Pepper, Morgan, Peter, the Avengers, everyone tbh) are finally safe. the recurring nightmare has finally reached it's 'happy end'.

on a side note...

shout out to Josh Brolin! Thanos might be a saggy sack of nuts but Brolin is a an amazing actor and should not be hated for his portrayal of such an iconic villian. remember, you can hate the character but you should also appreciate the actor for their performance!

#mcu #marvel #rants #ranting #i wrote this at 12am instead of sleeping #thought i might as well post it #tony stark #robert downey jr #thanos #josh brolin #wandavision #spider-man: far from home #peter parker #i cried writing this #feel free to share your own thoughts/opinions on the matter

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bwprowl · 3 years

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Me vs. The Mitchells vs. The Machines

The Mitchells vs. The Machines is a really cool movie. Seriously! It’s the Spider-Verse crew continuing to be at the top of their game, doing their damnedest to elevate and evolve 3D film animation in a way apart from the ongoing Disneyfied edge-sanding seen elsewhere. Several sequences, especially the final fight scene at the end, are absolutely jaw-dropping. A lot of the writing of the movie is also genuinely clever, with some cool tricks of weaving in Chekov’s Guns that you don’t even realize WERE Chekov’s Guns until they’re deployed, but then make perfect sense. And I also just have to say there’s something oddly heartening about a movie that does a lot to target Millenials in terms of nostalgia, but not so much via our shows and movies and music the way other project might go about, but specifically by tapping the internet meme culture of the early-00’s that’s so media-unique to that emergent generation. There’s some genuine heart visible in so many of the levels of how this thing was made that I can understand its touting as an instant classic and the waves of praise and popularity that have followed its release.

Unfortunately, I can’t so unilaterally praise this movie, mostly because I can NOT stop thinking about how poorly-implemented and mis-framed its central familial conflict is.

Oh yeah spoilers for this movie I guess

So I’ll need to detour at first and talk about A Goofy Movie, which isn’t much of an issue for me since I fucking love A Goofy Movie. And watching The Mitchells vs. The Machines my initial takeaway was a pleasant observation that someone had basically grafted A Goofy Movie to The World’s End, which could have made for an extremely fun time for me. A Goofy Movie, so it goes, centers on the conflict between a father and child trying to understand each other, spurred on by the father conscripting the child into an impromptu road-trip which the child initially resents but eventually leans into as a vehicle for understanding as the family members open up to each other and end with a greater appreciation for their familial bond as well as healthier, more open lines of communication. There are comical misunderstandings, dramatic misunderstandings, and escalating Wacky Adventures that keep the trip feeling suitably cinematic in scope. And as The Mitchells vs. The Machines continued on, I kept finding myself rounding back to that comparison and asking “Why am I not getting into this as much as I do A Goofy Movie?”

It turns out to be a point of motivation, actually. In A Goofy Movie, Goofy dragooning Max into the cross-country fishing trip is immediately borne out of his (however misinformed) desire to keep his son from going down a wrong, potentially delinquent or criminal path. Goofy has concerns about the lessened connection and communication with Max, sure, but that’s a symptom of his inability to communicate his actual worries about Max’s behavior to him, not the sum total of the problem he feels needs fixing. Goofy is under the impression there are genuine problems Max is going through, and while he’s got the actual particulars wrong, he’s not really that far off, since Max still IS the kind of kid to elaborately hijack a school function or make up extravagant lies to get attention from the girl he likes rather than just talking to her and asking her out like a normal human-dog-person. Goofy’s objective is firmly centered on helping Max for Max’s sake, and he’s only taking up a few weeks out of Max’s summer and causing him to miss a single party in order to do it.

I lay all that out so you can try to understand my headspace coming at critiquing The Mitchells vs. The Machines and negatively viewing its own take on a plot concept I ostensibly love by default. The problem, as said, is one of motivation. In The Mitchells, Rick’s dissatisfaction with his relationship with his daughter Katie is purely that: Dissatisfaction with their relationship. Katie herself is, by all accounts, doing spectacularly. She’s got a healthy relationship with friends and other family members, she’s gotten accepted into a prestigious film school, and her YouTube account seems to pull pretty keen numbers (With all the tech jokes in this movie it’s a wonder there’s never a riff on her shilling NordVPN or Raid Shadow Legends). The conflict between father and daughter is purely a case of them growing apart in her teen years demonstrably because Rick has no understanding of her current passions and makes no effort to do so, which leads to him having consistently questioned and doubted her ability to succeed in her field. The film frames the impromptu road-trip as his attempt to ‘fix’ the issues between them, but the only thing broken by the presentation of the story is Rick’s approach to parenting in the first place. He could easily have made Katie warm to him on the way out by replacing or paying for the laptop he broke and throwing her a subscription to her YouTube channel, but then the movie would be shorter and we wouldn’t be able to pretend the conflict was anything other than his own pursuit of self-centered actualization.

That’s the other issue, of course, the way The Mitchells vs. The Machines consistently rounds back to the point that Katie is somehow shouldering half the responsibility for the father/daughter communication breakdown. But as stated above, it really has hardly anything to do with her. Katie’s succeeding on her own terms, and the only outreach she would theoretically need to do to her dad would be to make HIM feel better, something he could do himself if he’d only actually pay attention to the cool videos she keeps trying to show him and not constantly deciding that HE knows that SHE will fail. It’s a fundamentally one-sided conflict from what we’re shown, and yet the other members of the Mitchell family continuously treat Katie like she needs to accommodate her father’s personal whims and not hurt his feelings despite the fact that he’s the one who went behind her back and canceled her flight, even forcing her to miss her first week of college (!) simply because he felt sorry for himself that they didn’t like the same things anymore. Again, Katie’s doing great, it’s Rick that decides to make his problem the entire family’s problem, and while I’m going to hesitate to refer to this behavior as out-and-out abusive, it is still absurdly selfish and pointedly poor parenting.

The movie seems to nominally strive for balance in the conflict, not making it entirely Katie’s job to fix her dad’s hurt feelings, and indeed having a whole sequence where he realizes what a Big Jerk he’s been about not trying to understand or support her passions, and resolving to actually Make An Effort moving forward. The problem is that this is still framed as one half of the equation, as Katie supposedly gets to understand where her dad is coming from, which...makes her feel better about all the times he said she would fail and so she should rely on and appreciate him more? And the reason that’s a fundamental issue is annoying, because it means we have to talk about Rick’s Stupid Fucking Cabin.

Look, I hate doing this. I personally try very hard to keep in the mindset that stories are stories and things happen in them because they are stories. I am loathe to attempt picking apart the points of particular plot points, but the problem is that this Stupid Fucking Cabin is positioned as the heart of the humanity of the entire movie, yet it hinges on a sequence of decisions that no actual human being would ever come by. First off, do you have any idea how long it takes to BUILD a home like that, let alone as one guy apparently doing it himself? Rick spent the better part of his twenties building this big Fucking Stupid Cabin to fulfill his lifelong dream of ‘Living in the woods’, only for his wife to get pregnant once it was finished, leading to him just dropping like that? Was there no planning in this family? Was Katie an accident that Rick immediately was this endeared to? I mean, he totally seems like a pro-lifer. But then why do they need to sell the Stupid Fucking Cabin on account of a kid coming along? How were Rick and Linda planning on living out their lives there if not with resources that could support them as well as a kid or two? Rick could have just raised his kids in the woods in his Stupid Fucking Cabin and they would have stood a better chance at turning out like little duplicates of himself and his own interests like he clearly wanted. That’s to say nothing of this sequence of events being framed as a ‘failure’, despite that fact that Rick handily succeeded at what he set out to do, only to turn around and abandon the thing he succeeded at himself on seemingly the same sort of impulsive whim that leads to him dragging his whole family on a road trip because he doesn’t understand YouTube. There are motivating factors to these decisions he made that could inform the whole context of this supposedly tragic backstory, but we aren’t privy to anything resembling them, and the result is a plot point that seemingly only exists to make Katie (and the audience) feel bad for Rick in the third act of the movie.

The real answer is the ultimate assertion of this thing by the finale, that Katie should be ‘grateful’ to Rick for his ‘sacrifice’ of his dream that supposedly allowed her to be in the place she is now. Except Katie had no part in Rick’s bizarre impulsive choice to build a Stupid Fucking Cabin then sell it as soon as a kid popped out so he, I guess, could feel some sense of important familial contribution. That’s to say nothing of the point about parental figures who make grand, sweeping gestures nominally for the good of their kids, but are effectively and emotionally unavailable in the day-to-day engagements of their lives. Because unlike Goofy in A Goofy Movie, Rick isn’t actually doing what he’s doing for Katie’s sake. Her motivation for most of the movie is to move away from home and go to college, a completely normal-ass thing that children do. Any of Rick’s outreach or efforts to ‘fix’ relationships and situations are purely for the sake of his own hurt feelings, and the way Katie’s mother and brother consistently push her into going along with them only highlights the overt way this whole family’s problems are hung up on the insecurities of of this single stubborn jerk. But then, that’s my other major misgiving with The Mitchells vs. The Machines: Its expected exaltation of the default biological family as some hallowed unit for which it is a tragedy to fall into any degree of dysfunction. This is with pointed dismissal towards the idea of Found Family, seen as a distraction, an obstacle to Katie realizing who her TRUE people are, and coming around to a sense of fulfillment because she managed to massage her dad’s ego for long enough that he stopped being totally dismissive of the things that brought her joy. You see, Found Families are fun, but they aren’t REAL or SPECIAL because they already accept and appreciate you for who you are, unlike these people you’re biologically obligated to share living space with for 18+ years whom you have to forge bonds with through varying degrees of communication breakdowns and compromises in self-agency.

With all that in mind, it highlights some of the smaller issues in the movie’s setup as well. This is perhaps petty, but jeez was I annoyed with the film’s framing of The Mitchells as this ~craaaazy~ ~weeeeiiiird~ family which included such outlandish quirks as ‘Dad who doesn’t understand technology’ and ‘Young boy who really likes dinosaurs’. And the wishy-washy tone of the familial conflict is echoed in the ‘The Machines’ part of the plot, which mostly led to me sitting on edge throughout the whole film as I wondered how it was going to come down on the subject of those kids and their darn smartphones. It ultimately doesn’t go full anti-technology, which makes sense given how much of Katie’s character revolves around using the stuff, to say nothing of the predilections of the people who actually, uh, made this movie. But the most it can manage is a halfhearted “Maybe unregulated big tech bad?” which even then is undercut, mostly I assume because of the various big tech companies involved in producing and streaming this thing. Don’t get me wrong, I’m overall glad it doesn’t go full "durr hburr technology is bad fire is scary and thomas edison was a witch", but a lack of any insight or ideas on that front means that the familial relationship element is the only conceptual element it really has to stand on, and I just spent over 1800 words breaking down why that fundamentally didn’t work!

It’s an aggravating situation, because lord did I want to love The Mitchells vs. The Machines. It’s gorgeous, it’s got some clever bits in the writing, and it can honestly sling a punchline like nobody’s business, there are some KILLER jokes in there. But it just became impossible all the way through the end for me to engage with the heart of the movie, its central connective conflict, on the terms it wanted me to. Now it’s admittedly possible that, perhaps like Rick Mitchell, that’s my problem. I’ve seen a lot of love for this movie from my peers, and it does make me question my own projections: I don’t want to get TOO personal on main, but I admit that it’s entirely possible that people who’ve enjoyed an actually functional fatherly relationship would better engage with the emotive connections this movie wants you to make. But even with that caveat, I was able to find my own way to resonate with the similar stakes of A Goofy Movie just thanks to the more effective way that one was framed, so if this one couldn’t hook me, maybe it was The Mitchells vs. The Machines’ fault after all.

#the mitchells vs the machines #the mitchells #movies #criticism #rant

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lady-divine-writes · 4 years

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Good Omens - “Tricked and Treated” (Rated G)

Summary: Aziraphale and Adam bump into an intriguing man and his son while out Trick or Treating. Of course, it is Halloween, and nothing is quite what it seems ... (3415 words)

Notes: This is one of two stories I wrote for A Big Spooky Fan Zine. Be sure to check the rest of the collection for some amazing spooky works from other wonderful fandom creators :)

Read on AO3.

Knock-knock-knock-knock!

“Trick or Treat! Smell my feet! Give me somethin’ good to eat! If you don’t, I don’t care. I’VE GOT PURPLE UNDERWEAR!!”

The chorus of tinny voices dissolves into giggles as a multitude of pint-sized monsters, ghouls, and superheroes wait for the door to open. If it doesn’t … they won’t do anything. Not a one of them is older than nine, and their parents are standing a few feet behind them. But the song is tradition, even if they do tweak the lyrics a bit every year.

Last year, the preferred modifier for underwear had been ‘dirty’, and even though that isn’t age-inappropriate, per se, the parents are thrilled the quorum decided upon a color this year instead.

The group falls silent when they hear heavy footsteps approach from the opposite side. The brass knob turns, and the door pulls in. The children know what to expect, but still, they take a tentative step backward. It’s an old house, but a familiar one; that always has carved pumpkins on the patio at Halloween and handmade wreaths on the door at Christmas. A house that generations of children have run up to on October 31sts past and knocked on its door. Those children grew up and bring their children here to visit the same bubbly lady who never seems to age, always has a smile on her face, and a tray of homemade caramel apples wrapped in wax paper at the ready.

The door creaks open.

The children gasp in anticipation.

Then, she is revealed: a red-haired woman in a flowing, floral kaftan beneath a cozy pink peacoat steps out with her gentleman behind her, dressed in olive drab and menacingly pointing, of all things, his right index finger, as if he thinks it will protect him from the beasties gracing their porch. The woman looks at the crowd of masks and made-up faces surrounding her and gasps in mock fear.

“My goodness!” she says, putting a hand to her mouth. “Look at all these frightful goblins and ghouls at my door tonight! I don’t suppose any of you like caramel apples, hmm?”

“I do! I do!” Hands shoot up, eager to be seen. The woman smiles.

“Mr. Shadwell! Put your finger away and bring me that tray!” she scolds, grabbing up apples on their sturdy wooden sticks when they come her way and handing them out one at a time, receiving a grateful and excited, “Thank you!” with each one.

“I do believe everyone’s parent is present,” she says with a glance towards the ring of adults manning her garden gate, “but if they’re not, you let them know that these apples came from Tracy Shadwell’s own kitchen, so they’re safe to eat.”

“Yes, ma’am!” the kids answer obediently. Most everyone in the neighborhood knows Mrs. Shadwell and her famous caramel apples. For those who don’t, she ties a pink tag at the base of each stick with her name and telephone number embossed on it in gold, should anyone want to verify.

And while she hands out her wares, she looks over each child and comments on their costume – the hand-crafted along with the store-bought – with nothing but the highest praise. As the crowd thins, two boys approach, patiently awaiting their turns. Mrs. Shadwell spots the first of the boys and hands him two caramel apples. She knows him - and his chaperone - very well.

“Why, Adam Young!” she coos at the boy dressed in white satin brocade. “What a stunning costume! Another one from your grandfather’s collection?”

“Yes, ma’am,” the boy replies proudly. “French Revolution era. I’m a political prisoner, about to get my head chopped off!” He drags a finger across his throat in a slicing motion, tilting his head to one side and sticking out his tongue for greater emphasis. His eyes pop as he remembers the best part. “Look! Here’s my head!” He fishes around in his candy bag and pulls out a childishly executed but morbid prop - a bleeding papier-mache head on a stick. It vaguely resembles Adam, having the same hair color and skin tone, but drenched in fake blood and with X’s over the eyes. “I wanted to slather blood all over my neck, but my grandfather said no.”

“I can understand why!” Tracy chuckles. “That costume must be expensive! It looks quite handsome on you.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Shadwell,” Adam says with a dignified bow.

“You’re very welcome.” Her gaze lands on the boy standing beside him. “And you! Another scary vampire!” The corners of her mouth tug down as she struggles for a name. “I can’t seem to recall your name, dear. Would you be so kind as to help an old lady out?”

“I’m Warlock,” the boy says, speaking with a pronounced lisp and spitting his consonants, courtesy of the plastic fangs crowding his mouth.

“Here you go, Warlock.” Mrs. Shadwell hands him two apples as well. It wouldn’t be right to give him only one since he’s seen Adam get two. Besides, thanks to her husband’s help, she has a whole army of apples sitting in her kitchen, waiting to be doled out. “Thank you for stopping by so I could see your costume. Give your parents my fondest regards.”

“Yesh, ma’am,” the boy slurs, trying his best not to spit again. “Thank you, ma’am.”

The boys wave politely as Mrs. Shadwell closes her door. They turn together, stepping down from the porch, eyeing one another’s costume as if the two of them are catwalk rivals.

“That belongsth to your grandpa?” Warlock asks, looking Adam’s shimmery outfit up and down.

“Yup.” Adam holds his head high and gives the boy a spin so he can view it from all sides. “Your costume is cool, too. Did your parents buy it? Or did someone make it for you?”

“It’sth vintage,” Warlock explains, tongue tripping over his teeth. “It wasth my father’s when he wasth a boy.” He holds the ends of his cape out wide, flapping the wings it creates.

“Awesome!”

“That’s right, Warlock,” a tall man says, receiving both children when they reach the wooden gate. “It belonged to your ancient, elderly father.”

The man standing beside him chuckles, reaching a hand out to Adam as the boy walks through.

“Well, despite its interminable old age, it really is a smashing costume, Mr….”

“Crowley,” Warlock’s father supplies, extending a hand in greeting. “Anthony J. Crowley.”

“Aziraphale,” Adam’s grandfather answers, taking Crowley’s hand and shaking it. “Aziraphale Fell. This is my grandson, Adam.”

Crowley nods at the boy who is less concerned with the subject of adults’ names as he is with comparing his haul with that of the boy beside him.

“I believe we’ve lost them!” Aziraphale laughs as Adam and Warlock dive into their sacks.

“Bound to happen,” Crowley concurs. “We’re nowhere near as entertaining as chocolate. At least, I’m not. Not to be rude or anything but aren’t you a little young to be a grandfather?”

Aziraphale grins hard enough to make his cheeks ache. “That’s very kind of you to say, but I am much older than you might think.” He narrows his eyes at the man tousling his son’s black hair - suspicious considering his own hair is red. Flame red. Of course, that could come from a bottle. Not that Aziraphale is judging. It looks rather fetching on him. “Forgive my saying so, but I don’t think I’ve seen you or your son around here before.”

“Is that so strange?” Crowley asks, his grin growing tight, but not terribly.

It seems Aziraphale may not be the first person of the evening to mention it.

“No, not really. But we’re a tiny hamlet. Everyone here knows everyone else.” Aziraphale leans in a companionable inch. “All their secrets, too.”

“Ah, well, we’re not from around here,” Crowley admits with a sheepish grin.

“Gotcha.” Aziraphale winks. “It’s no secret that we’re one of the few neighborhoods around that gives out full-sized candy bars by the handful and real popcorn balls – not that stale, store-bought crud.” Crowley’s lips quirk, in shame it seems, and Aziraphale rushes to elaborate. “Not that we mind visitors!” he says, waving his hands as if to wipe away any doubt. “As long as the children have a pleasant time, that’s all we care about. It’s nice to see some new blood around here.”

Crowley stares at Aziraphale, his face blank for a second. His lower lip quivers. He sputters, then he laughs out loud (harder than necessary, Aziraphale feels).

“What?” Aziraphale asks self-consciously.

“Nothing,” Crowley says, reining in his laughter with a snort that Aziraphale can’t help but find adorable. “It’s just been a while since I’ve heard that term. But to be honest, we’re here strictly to socialize. We don’t eat candy.”

Adam, totally engrossed in his conversation with Warlock, catches that last part. His head snaps up, jaw dropping to the ground, utter disbelief written on his face.

“Don’t eat it?” he moans with regret on his new friend’s behalf. “Why not?”

“I’m on a special diet,” Warlock says, looking down at his pregnant bag of sweets.

“A special diet?” Aziraphale looks from Warlock to his father.

“I adopted Warlock from a hospital overseas,” Crowley explains, distracted momentarily by a new wave of Trick-or-Treaters headed their way. “He has a rare blood-borne illness that they were ill-equipped to handle.”

“But … is he okay now?” Aziraphale gazes at the boy’s face, particularly his large, sleepy eyes, dark circles underneath made all the more prominent by his pale skin. Crowley watches the way Aziraphale looks at his son, examining him with an expression of genuine concern, and smiles.

“There is no cure, but we’re managing it the best we can.” Crowley puts a hand on Warlock’s shoulder and gives it a squeeze. “It helps when you don’t have to worry about trivial things like money. Heartbreaking for those parents in dire straits who don’t have an excess of disposable income. A lot of tough choices to be made when you find yourself in that position.”

“Aren’t you the lucky one?” Aziraphale teases, knocking Crowley playfully on the shoulder.

“It’s old money,” Crowley replies, that sheepish smile from before making a comeback. “I like putting it to good use.”

Aziraphale looks up when Crowley does and meets his eyes – boundless amber eyes that catch the surrounding street lights and flickering Jack-O-Lantern candles in a mesmerizing way, as if with a single blink he could read Aziraphale’s mind.

Or hypnotize him into doing his bidding.

They don’t look human. Snake-ish, more like - slit pupils and all. They can’t be real. They have to be contact lenses. Fake or not, there’s something about them that makes Aziraphale shiver. Crowley notices, grinning devilishly. Aziraphale laughs.

He’s letting the magic of the evening get to him.

Or the magic of this charming man.

From the corner of his eye, Aziraphale catches Adam yawn. He fishes his watch out of his pocket and checks the time.

“Oh my goodness!” he exclaims. “Look at that! When did it get so late?”

“We’re not going home now, are we?” Adam asks, whining the way tired children do while fighting back a yawn.

“I’m afraid so, my dear,” Aziraphale says. “You’re just about dead on your feet, and I can’t carry you all the way back to the house. Besides, I promised your mother and father I’d have you tucked in before they got home.

“We’d better be heading out as well,” Crowley says, wrapping an arm around his son’s thin shoulders and holding him close.

“Do we have to?” Warlock asks, sulking into his father’s embrace.

“I’m afraid so.”

“All right.” Warlock turns to Adam, who yawns again, shaking his head to dislodge the exhaustion from his brain. “It was nice meeting you, Adam.”

“It was nice meeting you, too,” Adam says.

“Do you guys …?” Aziraphale starts, not eager to see this captivating man disappear so quickly. “I know you said you aren’t from around here, but …”

“We’re in Mayfair,” Crowley says, anticipating Aziraphale’s question. “About two hours give or take, as the bat flies.”

“Ah.” Aziraphale casts his eyes down dejectedly. “That’s quite a distance to travel for conversation and candy you can’t eat.”

“We’re also visiting family. Family that we’ve been looking into visiting more often, maybe even moving closer to, so who knows? You could be seeing us around?”

Aziraphale nods because if that question implies what Aziraphale hopes it does, the answer is definitely yes.

“Who knows?” he echoes, hoping Crowley catches on to the fact that he’s flirting. It’s been a while, and he was never very good at it to begin with. “We might end up neighbors.”

“Maybe,” Crowley says, the word a vague promise but a promise nonetheless. It leaves Aziraphale with the feeling that if those plans to move fall through, he may still see Crowley again. “I could take you out for a bite?”

Aziraphale smiles, cheeks flushing red and not from the chill in the autumn air.

“I’ll take you up on that.” Aziraphale reaches into his pocket and pulls out his business card. “You can reach me at this number. I have a bookshop in Soho. I’m there most of the time … even if the sign on the door says closed.”

Crowley takes it, slipping it from between Aziraphale’s fingers and sliding it into his inside breast pocket. “Clever of you, really. Who wants to be bothered by a bunch of busybody customers anyhow?” He smooths down the front of his jacket, patting the pocket keeping Aziraphale’s business card safe.

That subtle touch of his palm to the spot makes Aziraphale tingly inside.

“Here …” Warlock, watching the exchange between the two men, holds out his bag of candy to Adam “… I want you to have this.”

Adam’s eyes grow big as saucers, his face lighting up at the offer of a sack of sweets as big as his own. “No way! Are you sure?”

“Yeah,” Warlock says with a sad, one-shoulder shrug. “I wasth gonna hafta throw it out anyway.”

Adam looks up at Aziraphale, eyes pleading. “Can I?”

“I don’t see why not. It would be rude to turn down such a generous gift.”

“Yes, it would,” Adam agrees, reaching for the bag and taking it reverently. “Thank you, Warlock.”

“Don’t make yourself sick eating all that candy in one night,” Crowley says.

“Oh, I won’t!” Adam assures him. “I’m going to share it with my three best friends! Hey! If you come back, I can introduce you!”

“You would do that?” Warlock asks.

“Of course! There’s always room for one more in our group.”

“Now, you see, you must come back,” Aziraphale says when he’d meant to say ‘We’ll see, boys. We’ll see.’ He doesn’t want to appear pushy. He doesn’t regret it an inch, though, when he notices the new look in Crowley’s eyes - the one that says he’s prepared to move heaven and earth to make that happen.

If it’s because of the promise of new friends for Warlock or to see him again, however, remains to be seen.

“I guess we will,” Crowley responds.

“Have a safe evening, Mr. Crowley. Warlock.” Aziraphale raises a hand and waves good-bye, backing away, pulling Adam along with him.

“And you as well, Mr. Fell. Adam.” Crowley waves back, turning down the street with Warlock in tow.

Crowley and Warlock weave through several pods of children racing up to houses and knocking noisily on doors. They walk against the flow of revelers, ending in a dark street with no lamps lit, no decorations on the porches, no Trick-or-Treaters anywhere to be seen.

“Did you have a good time?” Crowley asks.

“Yesh.” Warlock reaches up and spits out the false teeth that had been covering his fangs, glad to be rid of them at long last. “That was a blast! Adam and his granddad are really nice. Don’t you think they’re really nice?” Warlock asks, vibrating with the enthusiasm of … well, an eight-year-old on Halloween.

“Yes,” Crowley agrees, turning one last time, using his supernatural vision to find the man and his grandson walking down the street. Crowley doesn’t believe for a minute that Aziraphale is that boy’s grandfather, but he couldn’t get a read on him … as in he couldn’t read Aziraphale’s mind like he can with other humans. Adam’s neither, which makes the two of them that much more enticing.

Aziraphale looks over his shoulder and bites his lip as if he knows he’s being watched. Crowley eyes the dent his teeth make in his skin, lingering on it and licking his lips. If his heart were still beating in his chest, it would be racing out of control by now. “They were great. With any luck, we’ll be seeing them again.” Crowley puts a hand over the pocket with the business card hidden inside and smiles. “So,” he says, clapping his hands in front of him, “are you ready to give it another try?”

“Yes.” Warlock sounds confident, but he looks ready to puke. “It’s just … I’m not as good at it as you are.”

“It takes practice,” Crowley says, and with a snap of his fingers (which is entirely unnecessary - he does it solely for dramatic effect), he changes - shrinks down, sprouts wings, keeping only his serpentine eyes and a tuft of his red hair.

Crowley transforms effortlessly.

Warlock manages the feat with a little less finesse and a frantic snapping of fingers, but even though he’s only done it about a dozen times, he makes a handsome young bat. Father and son circle the neighborhood once to stretch their leathery wings and then rise high into the air. From this height, they can see everything, the whole of London stretched out beneath them. Crowley manages to spot Aziraphale and Adam one last time, then heads towards the ocean, disappearing into the night.

***

“Here we are, Adam,” Aziraphale says, opening the door to the Young house and ushering his charge inside. “If you hurry, get yourself washed up and into your nighttime clothes, you can sort your candy until your parents get home.”

“Can I have a piece or two?” Adam asks, gripping hard to the handles of his bags. “Or seven?”

“Three,” Aziraphale counters.

“Five?” Adam negotiates hopefully.

Aziraphale bobs his head back and forth, taking his time on purpose.

“Four,” he decides. “Final offer.”

“Deal!” Adam takes it. No need to tempt fate any further. He races off towards the staircase, burdened by roughly sixteen pounds of sugar weighing down his arms, but stops at the bottom step. He looks at Aziraphale thoughtfully for a moment before he speaks.

“Aziraphale?”

“Yes, Adam?”

“Warlock and his dad … they’re vampires, aren’t they?”

Aziraphale smiles to himself and nods. Crowley and Warlock are as much humans as he and Adam. Aziraphale is an angel, tasked by the Almighty Herself to care for the Antichrist, ensure he never comes into his power and brings about the end of the world. He’s been on the lookout for demons since Adam was born.

Which should make striking up a conversation with a vampire inadvisable.

But Aziraphale doesn’t believe Crowley meant to do them any harm. He didn’t come across as the dangerous sort of evil. For one thing, he didn’t seem to recognize Aziraphale and Adam for what they are at all. And a vampire adopting a son? Aziraphale has never heard of such a thing. Vampires tend to be opportunists. What could Crowley possibly have to gain by doing that? Still, Aziraphale can’t let his guard down, not for a minute. He isn’t sure what Crowley was trying to pull, but he hopes he gets the chance to find out. “Yes, I believe they are.”

“Cool,” Adam says with an awe-consumed grin. “I hope we see them again.”

Aziraphale pictures Crowley in his mind: his fair skin, his steep nose, his red hair, and his snake-ish eyes. Aziraphale has seen his share of demons, but they’ve all been wretched. Not Crowley. Crowley takes pride in his appearance, that’s for sure. It reminds Aziraphale of the sad state of his wings. He must groom them as soon as time permits.

“So do I, Adam,” he says, planning for later tonight when young Adam is asleep. Wing grooming is a messy business, one he’d prefer to do in private. “So do I.”

#good omens #good omens fanfiction #ineffable husbands #ineffable lovers #crowley x aziraphale #aziraphale x crowley #aziraphale #crowley

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