#I think all my posts about this book are about how much I hate mr rochester

[sixty-silver-wishes]

reviewing jane eyre for work and I forgot how much I hate mr rochester

controversial opinion I know but. I do not like that man

[frost-queen]

Tired of giving you all of me (Reader x Rodrick Heffley)

Requested by: me Forever tag:@missmelodramatic, @alex--awesome--22, @ellie-does-the-posts, @floatlosers, @merlieve , @queen-of-books , @glimmering-darling-dolly , @denkisclown , @wildieflower , @meyocoko , @justanothercoco, @subjecta13-thefangirl , @m-rae23 , @harleyquinnswifeyfrfr , @swampything07, @melsunshine , @panhoeofmanyfandoms , @venomsvl , @the-uncoordinated-house-cat , @rosecentury , @imagines-by-her, @evilcr0ne , @vviolynn , @niktwazny303 , @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 , @markive-m

Summary: You've had a crush on Rodrick for a while now, you finally dared to go ask him something. When Rodrick seems to invite you more for bandstuff. It takes you a while to finally see he was just using you for his own good. Rodrick realizing it too late that he can't think of anyone else. [idk if this will even be popular or that there is still a demand for, but ever since I saw the movie again I needed to get the idea out, so if this is only for me, so be it] - (N/Y/N stands for not your name)

You were very nervous. Very nervous about approaching him and asking for a shirt. Rodrick Heffley stood by his locker with two of his band members. Laughing and goofing around with his drumsticks. Pretending to punch the guitarist in the stomach whilst laughing loud. Collecting all your courage, you got in motion.

First hesitant but then you were already walking, it would seem idiotic to turn on your heel and leave. Only having to endure your poor decision. Heart thumping loud as you clutched the book in your hand a bit too hard against your chest.

Your feet stopped behind him as he still had no clue of your presence behind him. Taking a deep breath, you went to tap him on the shoulder. Rodrick stopped laughing, taking a half spin toward you on his heels. His eyes widened briefly before they settled with boredness.

"Yes?"- Rodrick said with a hard stare it made you want to crawl away. -"Hi Rodrick... I...I was thinking if I could get a shirt?"- you asked with all the confidence you could find. Which wasn't a lot. Rodrick scratched the back of his head confused with a drumstick. -"From your band."- you flapped out.

Swallowing nervously afterwards. -"How much are they?"- you then asked when he remained silent. He looked over his shoulder to his bandmates before letting his arm rest against the lockers. -"N/Y/N right?"- he said totally getting your name wrong. -" It's Y/n actually."- you corrected shyly.

Not that he was listening. -"Look our shirts are practically sold out."- he told you with a cool attitude. -"Really?"- you questioned, so gullible in believing it. Rodrick puffed loud, waving his drumstick down. -"Yeah."- he said as you saw his drum mates snicker behind him.

"But if you really must have one."- Rodrick spoke unbothered. -"I think I can find a spare one at home."- he let you know. -"Okay cool."- you responded with a shy smile. You turned around, feeling as hot as a stove. Rodrick puffed sarcastically, lowering his elbow from against the locker. Turning back around, he grabbed the guitarist by his neck, pulling him low to give his head a good rub. 

Counting the cash in your hands, you walked up to the Heffley household. Unsure how much Rodrick would charge you for a shirt, you came prepared. Ready to spend to one hundred bucks just for a shirt from him. You hated how expensive your crush on him was getting. Tugging the money away, you rose your hand to knock. Three firm knocks, making you take a step back. From behind the door you heard commotion.

Making you plaster up a smile. -"I'm already going."- a voice said whilst opening the door. A young boy answered the door, looking you up and down. You figured it must be Greg. Rodrick's younger brother. -"It's a girl."- he shouted to someone to the right. There was a loud gasp as you felt a bit uncomfortable.

The door got opened more as mrs. Heffley pushed Greg aside with a surprised look. -"Hello mrs. Heffley. My name is Y/n, I'm in Rodrick's class. Is he here?"- you introduced yourself. Greg started laughing as his mother nudged him hard in the elbow.

Her eyes seemed to lit up as she held her finger up. Almost trying her best not to smile so over exciting. -"Rodrick dear, there's a girl to see you."- his mom called out at the foot of the stairs. Greg kept staring at you questionable. -"What did he do?"- Greg asked curious. 

"Nothing."- you replied, moving your hands behind your back to occupy them. -"He paid you right?"- Greg assumed. -"Nope."- you anwered with a shake of your head. -"No way a girl wants to talk to Rodrick willingly."- Greg let out laughing. -"Rodrick!"- His mother called out again, more annoyed now.

You heard a door slam followed by loud thumping. -"What?"- Rodrick called out annoyed, scratching his hair. -"Rodrick."- his mom made clear with a nudge to you at the door. Rodrick's gaze went to you. He then immediately rushed back upstairs. -"Rodrick"- His mom yelled out as his behavior.

"Auch."- Greg said to you, walking off snickering. Waiting here for a shirt made you feel scammed. Like you were waiting for nothing, only to be fooled and laughed at. Lowering your gaze, you were about to turn back when there were more loud stomps. Rodrick rushed down the stairs, walking up to the door.

"N/Y/N right."- he was wrong again. -"Y/n."- you corrected him with a polite smile. Rodrick puffed unamused. -"Got my money?"- he said as you immediately grabbed for your money. -"How much is it?"- you asked as Rodrick's eyes widened on seeing the money in your hands.

He plucked the cash from your hands. All of it. Too bothered with the money, he threw the shirt at your face. It blinded you as a second later you heard the door slam. Taking the shirt down, you took a look at it. It was an ugly grey shirt with löader diaper written on it with a marker.

"You could've given me a nicer color!"- you shouted at the door. How ripped off you felt. Sighing soft, you went down the driveway back to your bicycle. Placing the shirt in the front basket, you started cycling home as the sun had already set.

Thinking about how Rodrick clearly had no interest in you and ripped you off by taking all your money, made you cry. Wiping your eyes constantly to keep your vision clear. All that for a boy you like. Something you were never daring enough to do something about it. 

The next day at school, you were sitting in class waiting for the teacher to enter. Gaze low on your books till you saw a set of black painted nails set on your desk. Moving your gaze up, you met up with Rodrick Heffley. -"N/Y/N."- he said lowering his head down keep a low voice. -"Y/n."- you sighed out at once again your name being wrong.

"Löader diaper has a gig tonight, can you come?"- he asked, looking over his shoulder if anyone was listening in. Your eyes lit up, curling up a smile. -"Really?"- you replied trying to dim your excitement. -"Yeah income fee is 10 bucks."- he told you. -"Didn't you already took enough money from me."- you pointed out at the hundred bucks he claimed ownership over.

Rodrick puffed loud, looking away. You kept glaring at him to make your point. -"I'm already giving you a fan discount."- he responded tapping on your book. -"You're a leech."- you muttered out. Rodrick smiled tauntingly.

The teacher walked in, dismissing Rodrick to his desk. You could barely pay attention. Constantly thinking of the upcoming gig. Of Rodrick Heffley actually having asked for your presence. Wanting another fan there. Unable to stop yourself from smiling, you were glad Rodrick sat somewhere far behind you. 

For the gig, you had put on the band shirt. Trying to make it as flattering as you could. You arrived at the gig after having gotten the text from Rodrick. Waiting by the entrance for him. You received some looks, all looking at your shirt.

Not the good kind of looks. Jumping back, the white van hit the brakes fast in front of you. The windows were down as the guitarist thumped his hand against the car door. -"Shirt girl!"- he called out. The comment made you roll your eyes, but still it was better than Rodrick giving you each time a different name.

Rodrick had gotten out, opening the side door, revealing another band member laying down with his legs up. Rodrick whistled loud calling you over. You went over to him. He took one glance at your shirt before grabbing a bag and shoving it in your hands.

"This needs to get backstage."- he said shoving another bag in your hands. -"Ro...Rodrick"- you breathed out confused. He gave you in each hand, held by a few fingers two more bags. -" Thanks N/Y/N."- he said getting it wrong again with a pat against your cheek. 

You wanted to correct him, but had slightly enough of it. Rodrick motioned for you to get a move on. Sighing loud, you carefully made your way backstage. Trying hard not to trip. The last few meters you tumbled forwards as the bags plopped out of your hands.

Exhaling loud, you were out of breath. Returning to them, you got handed over more bags and gear. Going back and forth... alone with no help from them. Exhausted and worn out, you made your way to the stage. Needing a moment to see the room was close to empty.

Just some drunks, some weird gathering club that clearly couldn't book another venue and a guy already starting to clean up. You were the only one, who moved to the front of the stage. Looking uncomfortable around. The band got on stage as Rodrick went to sit behind the drums. They introduced themselves as you were the only one clapping.

Rodrick started to slam the drums as they played one of their favorite songs. You tried to ignore the drunks behind you, enjoying their gig. They played a few songs till the guy cleaning up cut the lights, setting them in darkness. He didn't even apologize as Rodrick suddenly stopped playing.

Staring saddened in front of him. Taking his drumsticks, he left the stage in anger. You quickly made your way backstage. Seeing Rodrick scratch the drumstick in his hair. -"You were amazing."- you complimeted them. Rodrick stopped, eyes widening at you.

He than laughed loud. -" Pack up N/Y/N."- wrong again. -"It's Y/n"- you made clear with a glare. -"Whatever." - he answered letting the drumstick twirl between his fingers. Sighing loud, you collected the bags. This time the other bandmates helped out with the heavier gear. Rodrick waiting in the car, behind the wheel.

After the car was loaded, he drove off without offering you a ride home or a goodbye. Sighing soft, you went home alone. Ever since the gig, you got pulled up more and more by Rodrick to do things for him. Charming you each time with something fun till he made you do everything. Basically becoming their roadie for everything. 

Rodrick sat at diner, discussing the upcoming talent show, he wants to join with his band. It could be his major breakthrough. Greg snorted loud, receiving a stomp underneath the table from him. -"Auch."- Greg called out. Rodrick mimicked his pathetic whining as their parents sighed loud. -"So Rodrick... this talentshow... you'll need a lot of preparation right."- his dad started to gear up a conversation. -"Duh."- Rodrick answered with a full mouth.

"I'm so prepared for our breakthrough, I'm making more shirts."- Rodrick let out. -"Oh."- his mother responded intrigued. Rodrick lowered his fork. -"I'm letting Y/n do all the work."- he answered chuckling. His father's fork dropped, clattering against his plate. Staring with wide eyes of shock at his wife. -"Hold up."- his mom began.

"Are you telling me you are using Y/n to do your work?"- she made clear. -"Yeah."- Rodrick replied obviously. His father threw his hands up. -"Wow."- Greg said dramatically. Rodrick looked at everyone not getting what was wrong about it. Rodrick's phone rang as the name popped up on the screen. His mom taking a quick glance at who was calling him. Minion. Rodrick got up, picking up the phone. -"N/Y/N."- he said all smug. He heard you sigh on the other side.

"Are you even trying?"- you asked him at once again calling you wrong. -"How are my shirts?"- Rodrick asked avoiding your question. -"Done... I'll drop them off later."- you yawned loud after your sentance. -"Cool."- Rodrick answered before ending the call. 

You arrived at the Heffley household with two bags full of hand-made Löaded diaper t-shirts. Rodrick opened the door without any acknowledgement to you. He took a bag from you, looking inside. -"How many are there?"- he asked. -"40."- you told him with a smile. Rodrick dropped his gaze at you.

"40? I asked you to make 70."- Rodrick called out. -"No you didn't."- you replied sure you were right. Rodrick sighed taking out his phone. -"There, see."- he showed you the texts between him and you. Your eyes widening at the nametag. Minion. In horror you stared at it, not even caring for the number. -"What?"- Rodrick called out, looking back at his phone.

"Is that what I am to you?"- you shouted. Your sudden loud voice startled him. -"Minion. You're just using me!"- you threw the bag full of shirts at him. It hit him in the chest as he caught it before it would fall to the ground. -"What is the big deal about it."- he answered unbothered.

It pained you to finally see the reality. Having not wanting to see it for so long. Always telling yourself that he liked you. That you were only helping him out cause he wanted to be close to you. Turns out you were wrong. Unable to control yourself, you started crying.

"The deal?"- you called out. -"You're using me to do your dirty work and I stupidely let you. I let you use me because I wanted to be close to you."- you cried out in a state of hysteria. -"Because I'm in love with you!"- you confessed wiping your tears away agressivly. Rodrick staring with wide eyes back at you, unsure what to say.

You threw the second bag of shirts at him as well. Rodrick tried ducking for it, but it hit his shoulder when he ducked to the side. -"You are the worst Rodrick Heffley!"- you shouted wanting to hit him but your hand lingured in the air. Rodrick having turned his head, ready to receive the impact.

Yet it never came. Slowly opening his eyes to you. -"Get my goddamn name right!"- was the final thing you shouted at him before running off. Crying so loud, you had to keep wiping your eyes dry to see something. Rodrick swallowed nervously, entering the house once more.

Greg jumped in front of him all jokingly. -"Ha! You loser."- Greg laughed out, making fun of his brother. Rodrick clenched his jaw, jumping at Greg. Pulling his head under his armpit out of angerness. Greg started calling it out for mercy as Rodrick gave him none.

"Rodrick!"- his mother shouted pulling at his shoulder. Rodrick let go of Greg with a loud huff. -"That's it!"- she called out when Greg taunted Rodrick once more. Rodrick nearly jumping at him to mess with him. -"No talent show for you!"- mrs. Heffley made clear.

"What? But it could be my great breakthrough."- Rodrick answered pleadingly. -"I am sick of your behavior and how you just treated Y/n is beyond how I raised you! You need to learn some respect Rodrick!"- she said as a final. Rodrick stomped up the stairs angered to his room. Slamming the door shut. Letting himself slide down against his wall. Palms pressed deep onto his eyes. Knees to chest as he felt at a sudden loss. 

Rodrick hated that his mom still made him come to the talentshow. He was waiting in the open room before being seated. He looked around, gaze stopping as he spotted you. He made the effort of wanting to greet you or talk to you. You locked eyes with him, giving him a glare. Before he could stop you, you walked off.

"Y/n..."- Rodrick said as it never reached you. Being ignored so obviously. Exhaling loud, he lowered his hand once more. Turning his head, he met up with his mother's gaze. A lot of sympathy in it. Rodrick shrugged her off, heading for the theater. He took his seat next to his mom at the outside.

He had a good view at backstage. Eyes widening as he saw his bandmates and Bill appear backstage. His eyes widened even more seeing you appear near them. -"Be right back."- Rodrick said slipping out of his seat. Making his way down to the stage to find a way backstage. -"What is going on?"- he called out confused. Bill laughed doofily. -"Are you playing without me?"- he asked feeling betrayed.

"Yeah."- Bill answered groovily. -"But I started the band."- Rodrick replied in shock they would play without him. -"That's rock and roll dude."- Bill told him. -"Oh and I took your minion too."- Bill let out. Rodrick's eyes widened with anger. Before he knew it, his fist swung at Bill's jaw. Bill tumbling to the ground.

"You stay the hell away from Y/n!"- he called out as his guitarist had to pull him back. -"Rodrick?"- you said confused approaching. You had left for a second to fetch them some water. Rodrick looked back at you with a gulp. He took as step closer to you, saddened to have being so stupid.

You set the waterbottles down, taking your leave. -"Y/n!"- Rodrick called out making you stop. -"I'm sorry..."- he apologized. You shook your head not wanting to hear it. -"You never are."- you told him. Rodrick ran up to you when you started to distance yourself from him. -"Y/n."- Rodrick repeated grabbing your wrist to pull you to a stop. -"I'm tired of being used by you."- you called out. You wanted to turn around when Rodrick took your other wrist as well, keeping you in place. -"I'm an idiot."- he confessed.

"An idiot for not seeing what was right in front of me. I shouldn't have used you or take you for granted. I'm really sorry about that Y/n but please don't hate me. That is the least thing I want."- he finished. Rolling your eyes at him, you puffed loud, turning away from him. Rodrick pulled you back to him. Lips crashing onto yours.

So caught up with you, he hadn't seen how he was on the stage. The curtains dropping as the kiss was displayed to the entire theater. There were gasps all around and muttering. The guitarist trying to get his attention. Rodrick retrieved his lips, looking shyly around at the peering eyes.

Annoyed, he pulled you backstage. Looking back at you, he snapped his finger in front of you. Seeing how frozen you had gotten from the kiss. -"Must I kiss you to unfreeze you Y/n?"- he teased with a chuckle. You immediately shook your head, hand pressing against his chest. Rodrick smiled moving a hand on your lower back to kiss you again. Not taking you for granted anymore.

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

Read more of my fics on my Masterlists!

[sooshihu]

charles leclerc x reader ~ instagram au

prompt: the great looking driver we all know and love creates controversy with his new and surprisingly young girlfriend

warnings: age gap

january 5 2024

yourusername shared a story

yourbestfriend liked your story

user liked your story

charles_leclerc started following you

charles_leclerc liked your story

user liked your story

user liked your story

wagsf1

liked by user, user and others

wagsf1 !charles leclerc has been spotted with an unknown girl outside of a club in monaco!

after this picture was taken he allegedly drove off in his new ferrari with the girl

comments

user she does look like his type that’s for sure

user YALL I FOUND HER SHE LITERALLY JUST TURNED 18 LAST NIGHT

user im sorry WHAT

user mr leclerc going younger and younger i see

user didn’t he like break up with his girlfriend like 3 weeks ago?😭

user our fav walking red flag🥰

user oh to be her…

and 457 more

february 2 2024

yourusername

liked by yourbestfriend, charles_leclerc and others

yourusername 💦☀️🌊🤍

comments

yourbestfriend 😍

user @charles_leclerc mr hitting on fresh 18s that you?🥰

user that’s deff charles’ yacht

user my guess is she’s going after his money to pay off those student loans

yourusername how did you know🤭

and 54 more

f1gossip

liked by user, user and others

f1gossip charles leclerc with his supposed new and very young girlfriend😉 let us know your view on this couple!

comments

user still think she’s after the money

user why you all hating we don’t know anything about her yet💀

user fr like calm down😭

user she can’t be mature enough for him she’s just a kid

user he wouldn’t be with her if she wasn’t

user i saw her instagram she doesn’t look like the bitch yall make her out to be just saying

and 374 more

april 2 2024

yourusername added a story

charles_leclerc liked your story

charles_leclerc replied to your story:

je t'aime, magnifique❤️ (i love you, gorgeous)

april 25 2024

yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc and others

yourusername joy of missing out 🤍 enjoy the little moments you share with only yourself

comments

charles_leclerc 🤍

user it’s over he commented a heart on her post they’re offcial😔

user am i the only one who LOVES her vibe?😍

user deff not! she seems like a very nice and humble person to me i don’t know why she was getting so much hate

user “she’s just 18 blah blah blah” it’s not your relationship leave her alone

yourusername i love you

user the age gap is kinda wild tho

user hair care routine??

may 3 2024

charles_leclerc added a story

user liked your story

user liked your story

yourusername replied to your story: ❤️

yourusername replied to your story: ❤️

yourusername replied to your story: ❤️

yourusername replied to your story: ❤️❤️❤️

yourusername added a story

may 19 2024

yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc, arthur_leclerc and others

yourusername haters be hating because they don’t wake up next to charles leclerc like i do

comments

user WERE YOU SILENT OR SILENCED DEAR HATERS

charles_leclerc wouldn’t want it any other way🤭

user THE CAPTION SHUT UP I LOVE HER

user do you see his smile? and yall still think she can’t make him happy cause she’s ‘too young’💀

user Something About You - Eyedress, Dent May ~ 0:44

user the amount of things i’d do to wake up next to either of them is concerning

user every book girlie dreaming about their age gap trope

and 487 others

charles_leclerc

liked by yourusername, scuderiaferrari and others

charles_leclerc she’s gotta pay off those student loans somehow, am i right?

(last pic is me proudly taking all of the pics above)

comments

user charles simping for yn is so real omg

user love how they’re making fun of the gold digger rumours😭

user charles.jpg when?

user i just know it would be full of yn pls

scuderiaferrari after the loans are payed off we suggest buying her a ferrari of her own 👀

user the unseriousness of their hard launch captions are highlights of my day

user she’s living our dream fr

user can’t decide if i wanna be him or her

and 1,592 others

[tinfoil-jones]

Gravity Falls: For Your Own Good, Ch. 2

Summary: A few years after moving to Gravity Falls and having his lab built, Stanford Pines happens upon his estranged twin brother, Stanley. He mentally prepared himself to be suffocated by his brothers neediness all over again - what he wasn't prepared for was Stanley walking right past him like he didn't even notice him.

Rating: M for language, violence, and adult implications

Preface: Dialogue only, but some actions will be annotated for clarity. Cross-Posted on AO3 Here

Prev - Next

CH.2

"Don’t get me wrong, I stand in solidarity with all assortments of criminals, felons, and anyone who sticks it to the man, but damn do I hate being the man who gets stuck."

"This is for your own good."

"You're not the first kidnapper to tell me that.”

“...We’ll touch on that later. How are you feeling?” 

“Like I’ve been kidnapped by some delusional maniac.”

“...I meant physically. How are you handling your stitches?”

“They’re slightly better than the last set of shady back alley stitches I got. I thought you said you weren’t a medical doctor?”

“My fields of study are wide and varied, of course I’ve covered some basic medical topics.”

*Ford tosses a book titled ‘Battlefield Medicine and Emergency Blood Transfusions For Dummies’ into a drawer and closes it*

“Where are we, anyways?”

“We’re still in Gravity Falls, but in my research facility in the woods; right now we’re in my below-ground level lab. You’re in one of the containment cells I use for cryptids, monsters, and anomalies.”

“So, what, you're some kinda mad scientist? Are you gonna do some depraved experiments on me?”

“No, you’re staying there until you heal, and you admit you’re lying.”

“Lying about what, specifically? It’s a long list.”

“Lying about not knowing who I am. You’re only doing this so you can pretend you didn’t do anything wrong.”

“That does sound like something I’d do. Did I sell you something that blew up or gave you a rash?”

“What-? No! You know what you did. Stop playing this ‘Not what he seems’ card, Stanley-.”

“Why do you keep calling me that?”

“It’s your name.”

“Is it?”

“...What do you think your name is?”

“Stan.”

“And...?”

“And what?”

“Your surname. What's your surname?”

“Malone.”

“That’s your fake name this time? Stanley Malone?”

“Just Stan. I guess Stan might be short for Stanley? I don't think too hard about it.”

“It is short for Stanley. It can only be short for Stanley or Stanford and the latters already taken.”

“My ex used to joke around that my name must be Staniel... Heh, Rick you asshole.”

“Malone- Mr. Mystery, or whatever fake identity you’re using this time, it isn’t going to work on me. You’re a liar, Stanley Pines. And you’re staying in that cell until you admit it.”

“Ok, I’m a liar. Now let me out.”

“...No.”

---

“Last year Ma tried to call me and update me on whatever antics you were pulling at the time. I always hung up before she could try to get me invested. Is that what this is about? Are you angry I didn’t bail you out of whatever trouble you were in?”

“Last year’s a blur, PhD. But there’s nothing I did that a second mad scientist could have possibly helped me with.”

“I’m not a- second?”

“Sure you’re not a mad scientist, sure. You just have an evil basement sub-lab in the middle of some creepy woods. And you conveniently already had a prison cell with a one-way forcefield ready. And there’s a jar with eyeballs in it on your counter. A normal, sane scientist has all of these things.”

“Don’t patronize me, Stanley. I told you my specialty is anomalies. Of course I’d have a containment unit for anything human sized or greater.”

“And would a not-mad scientist miss their brother so much they go around knocking out and kidnapping the first person who looks like him?”

“I did not miss you-.”

“What happened to him, anyways? Did he die or something and this is how you're coping?”

“That- that isn’t funny Stanley!”

“And you’re a barrel of laughs yourself.”

*Ford gets up and approaches the cell, before reaching into his trench coat and pulling something out to show him*

“I don’t hate you, if that’s why you’re pulling this stunt. I still have this. I’m still mad, I haven’t forgiven you, but I never hated you.”

“Gee that’d be such a nice sentiment if I knew what the hell you’re talking about, and what that picture’s supposed to be.”

“It’s us when we were children.”

“Huh. Guess you do have an identical twin.”

“And that boat is the Stan O’War, we found it as boys and tried to fix it up. You always talked about sailing the world one day, and dragging me with you.”

“No thanks. I hate the ocean.”

“... What?”

“The ocean creeps me out, Doc. Really, any big enough body of water. They swallow you up, and you disappear. I wouldn’t sail the ocean, and I wouldn’t take some maniac like you with me.”

“... You’re not lying.”

“About not liking the ocean, or you being crazy as fuck? Because both are 100% no bullsh-”

“You… Truly don’t remember, you’ve lost your memory. Stanley, you have amnesia.”

To be continued...

[aziraphales-library]

Hi!!! Do you have any fics where aziraphale is famous and crowley's just a "nobody"? preferably without explicit scenes, please :)) thank you so so much <3<3

Hello! We have a #famous aziraphale tag. Here are some fics in which Aziraphale is famous and Crowley is not. I could only find a couple of non-explicit fics, I'm afraid, but I'm pretty sure the smut is minimal/skippable in most of these...

First Thing In The Morning by FeralTuxedo (E)

Aziraphale Fell, erstwhile nerd, now successful fantasy author, is signing books at this year’s Heaven and Earth convention when he spots a red-headed man in the crowd. Someone he hasn’t quite been able to forget since his school days. And as luck would have it, Anthony Crowley, former troublemaker, now responsible adult, seems keen to reconnect.

Pride Month and Prejudice by TawnyOwl95 (E)

They say that you should never meet your celebrity crush. Especially when you know what an absolute bastard he is. So, of course, Anthony J. Crowley's participation in a queer adaptation of Pride and Prejudice for Pride Month has nothing to do with the involvement of A-lister A.Z. Fell. Crowley is only doing it so he has some gossip for his column. He didn't mean to get cast as Lizzy Bennet, he certainly didn't mean to be acting opposite Fell's Mr Darcy. And to make matters worse, Fell keeps staring at him...

Veni Vino Vegas (I Came, I Got Drunk, I Got Married) by A_N_D (T)

After a whirlwind drunken evening, author Az Fell came home from Rom-Con without his heirloom pinkie ring – but with a wedding license from a 24-hour Las Vegas chapel. Elsewhere, book fan Tony Crowley woke up with a hangover, vague memories, and a brand new ring he’s only seen in author photos. Mutually attracted, mutually terrified the other one thinks it was all a regrettable mistake, they turn to their dear but anonymous online friend to vent and ask for advice. …Maybe they should tell each other their screennames someday.

and now all of my garden is grown in lavender by ilikeblue (E)

Popular queer romance author, A.Z. Fell, has been lying about having a husband and a happy marriage for years. Longing to escape a string of failed relationships and looking for a fresh start, Aziraphale moves into the cottage left to him by his Great Aunt Agnes. When a TV adaptation of one of his books leads to sudden popularity and throws him into the limelight, his fans (and the press) are eager to catch a glimpse of Aziraphale's own mysterious leading man. Unfortunately, he still has to cast someone for that role. Enter the handsome gardener… Under Crowley's meticulous care the cottage's neglected garden slowly comes back to life, and Aziraphale finds himself writing the most important love story he'll ever write: his own

Once upon a time by elf_on_the_shelf (E)

‘Hello, my dear.’ Crowley bit his lip for a couple of seconds before he took a deep breath and just went with it. ‘Would you like to go for a coffee sometime?’ There was silence at the other end. Oh shit. ‘That was my friend messing around with my phone…?’ ‘You do realise that only works over text.’ ‘Myeah.’ Why was he like this? He had wanted to kill Bea for doing the same thing and yet here he was, doing the thing. At Bea’s behest, mind you. ‘I would love to go for coffee. Oh, and cake!’ Aziraphale is a very rich and successful writer. Crowley is at the worst possible moment of his life - living off Bee's couch and posting his mum's fairy tales on some random sites only to be ignored by everyone except one random person simply called A. This is a story about how both of our main protagonists get over the ghosts of their pasts, learn to work together and maybe - just maybe - fall in love in the process. Not to mention that all of the characters that we love (hate - looking at you, Gabe) make an appearance.

The Infernal Bodyguard by Santillatron (M)

Alistair Zira Fell is a popular author. Loved by everyone he meets. Well, almost everyone. Someone is trying to hurt him, and right now, he needs a bodyguard. Anthony J. Crowley is the best, although he doesn't work with celebrities. He has three rules. He never gets too close, never stays once the job is done, and Never Gets Involved. But this isn't a thriller. This, is a love story.

- Mod D

[buckys-little-belle]

Chapter Two - Backpack, Backpack

SFW - Please keep all interactions with this post, and this blog, SFW. 

Warnings - Mentions of Bucky’s ‘Old Life’, talks about slight “Violence” (Bucky’s past), talks of a first aid kit, feeling “scared” about being a little, fluff! Obviously! 

Word Count - 2164

Note - I've finished all of Bub and Buck's story now, and I have to say it's been crazy going back and blending chapters/blurbs together to create a more cohesive story. It's been fun, and crazy, and honestly I missed this little place that I loved so much. Cafe BigNSmall is the beginning of so much, not just this account. It was the first little writing thing I put out that really got traction and that led me to where I am now. Going to school in January for creative writing, beginning the process of writing my own book. This little fic that has brough comfort to so many, myself included, is so much bigger than just a fanfiction or just a writing process and I'm so thankful for everyone who has stuck by my side, who has liked, reblogged, and sent asks about it. I love every one of you, I love who you've helped me become, and I've loved every minute of re-writing this series and I hope you love re-reading, or even reading it for the first time. I just have so so so much love in my heart for this and for you <3

. ★ . ✪ . ★ .  ✪ . ★ . ✪ . ★ .  ✪ . ★ . 

Bucky sat at his same table for the umpteenth time, but this time he sat with a smile knowing someone was on their way to sit with him. For the first time in a while Bucky wasn’t sitting and watching everyone while feeling jealous, instead he watched as a Caregiver hugged their Little and felt hopeful that he might get to have that one day. 

“MR!” Y/n yelled from the entrance like she couldn’t believe he was there, sitting at their table ready for whatever she wished to do. “Hi!” She smiled at him when she got to the table, her usual overalls and t-shirt combo covered by a heavy sweater. He was happy she had covered up more than yesterday, the sky grey instead of blue, and the colder. 

“Hi.” He smiled back, Bucky was sure he looked goofy with how big his smile was but he didn’t care. “Chilly?” He asks as he watches them shiver slightly when the finally sit down. 

“Yeah.” Y/n tilts her head to the side as she seems to contemplate something. “I think ‘m gonna get a hot chocolate.” She rummages around her bag before finding her wallet and pulling out a five dollar bill. Bucky was quicker though, already on his feet and in the line. “What are you gonna get?” Y/n asks as she joins him in the line. 

“Well, I think I’m going to get a hot chocolate too.” He looks down at her, a silly grin on her face as she nods her head. “Their cake pops look good too.” Bucky points to the glass case full of baked goods and premade sandwiches. 

“I know!” Y/n practically jumps. “I had one once.” They frown. “But I never have enough moneys for one, maybe next week I’ll get one.” They nod their head, agreeing with their idea. 

Bucky already planned on buying Y/n a cake pop, but wanted to make sure she actually did like them. Finding out she’s only had one because she can’t afford them has him vowing to always buy her one whenever she’s here. 

The money Bucky got from the government after his treatment went public often sits in his bank account unused, he has what he needs, and most of what he wants, and he hates spending the money on useless things. Yet as he watches Y/n’s eyes flicker to the case full of sweet treats with a frown on their face he’s happy to know he finally has something, someone worth spending money on. 

“Hi, what can I get you today?” The barista smiles at Bucky, giving an extra sweet grin and a wave to Y/n. 

“Can I get two medium hot chocolates, please?” Bucky places his hand on Y/n’s shoulder to get her attention before asking. “What kind of cake pop do you want Bub?” 

“I can’t.” They shrug their shoulders, clearly not aware that Bucky’s already ordering for her. 

“I’m buying you one. Which one do you want, Bub?” He adds some clarification, leaning down slightly to be at Y/n’s height, pointing to the cake pops in the case. “I love vanilla, I think I’ll get a vanilla one.” He says, hoping that him getting one will make Y/n feel less nervous. 

She begins playing with her hands, twisting her fingers together, something Bucky’s noticed she does when anxious. “Um, I like chocolate.” She whispers, looking back at Bucky with weary eyes. “But I don’ wan’ you to buy it, I -” Bucky doesn’t let her finish her sentence, instead he stands and orders both cake pops before paying. 

With both hands on Bub’s shoulders he moves them over to the wait station. “When you’re with me I’ll be the one buying things, okay?” His tone is sweet but also somehow firm, hoping his words make sense and are final, but also hoping he doesn’t seem too overbearing. 

“Like a, like when.” Bub stumbled over her words before turning around to face Bucky, his hands dropping from her shoulders only for her to grab his left, glove covered, hand to fidget with it like she does hers. “Like a caregiver?” She asks, finally meeting Bucky’s glance. 

“Exactly like that.” Bucky nods. “I’ll act like your caregiver when we’re together, okay?” He regrets using the word ‘act’ the moment he says it, Y/n somberly nodding at his words. He wants to be her caregiver all the time, he doesn’t want to just act as one while around her, but he met her yesterday. Neither of them know each other well enough for that kind of trust, yet Bucky seems to feel like they both are on the same wavelength. Like they’ve waited long enough for someone to be their other, why wait a little longer. 

“I’d like tha’.” Y/n nods, turning back around in Bucky’s arms to wait for their cake pop and hot chocolate. 

. ★ . ✪ . ★ .  ✪ . ★ . ✪ . ★ .  ✪ . ★ . 

For a whole week Bucky and Bub met up everyday, getting hot chocolate and cake pops. Y/n kept giving Bucky colouring pages to take home with her signature at the bottom, his fridge now covered in them after a frantic late night trip to buy magnets. Walking into his house and seeing the fridge coloured in pictures made him love the fact that he bought a huge fridge able to store at least another week's worth of pictures without having to remove anymore of the ones he’s already been given. 

“Hi, Mr!” Y/n smiled as she sat down on her booth seat, her backpack placed on the table as she got comfortable. “I made you something.” 

“You did?” Bucky unpackaged her cake pop and placed it on a napkin, sliding it over to her along with her hot chocolate. “Careful it’s hot.” Bucky warned as Bub went straight for her drink the moment it was in her line of sight. 

“Otay.” She blew a breath onto the cup, though Bucky wasn’t sure how helpful her hot puff of air would be in cooling it down, instead pulling it back to himself and blowing cold air on it for her. “Here.” She placed a piece of paper onto the table. 

This picture wasn’t one from a colouring book, but one on regular plain paper, drawn by Y/n and coloured by her to. Two figures stood hand in hand with a box of crayons in the middle. One person was obviously Bucky, the other Y/n. Even if he couldn’t tell Bub had written their names “Mr” and “Bub” below each of their persons. “I love it.” Bucky smiled, sliding the, now less hot, hot chocolate back to Y/n, her taking a sip immediately and humming in content. “I’ll have to put in on my fridge.” He said aloud, though he meant to keep the words to himself, not sure if it was wrong to admit he had grown attached to Y/n enough to want her pictures on his fridge. 

“Really?” Her usually playful voice grew serious, her eyes filled with tears. “My drawing?” 

“Yeah, Bub.” He smiled, glad she seemed happy over the idea. “I have a few of your drawings on my fridge already.” He admitted. Before he could place it in his bag Y/n was up and out of her seat sliding into Bucky’s booth before wrapping her arms around him in a hug. “Oh.” Bucky lets out a surprised sigh. 

“I like you, you nice.” Y/n said as she pulled away, though didn’t leave the booth. 

“You’re nice too, Bub.” Bucky said in disbelief. He knew the two of them were making good steps towards fully being comfortable around one another, Y/n seemed to slip further and further into regression, showing she felt safe around Bucky, and she had even asked him if he was the Winter Soldier and hadn't run when he said yes. But he hadn’t expected her to feel comfortable enough to hug him, yet he wasn’t going to argue or complain. 

Y/n eyed his bag for a minute or so before asking a question. “Wha’s in your bag?” She asked, this being the first time she had truly seen it. 

“I’ll show you what’s in my bag, if you show me what’s in yours?” He offered, having been wondering what she brought with her to the cafe everyday. “Deal?” He asked, and she perked up, agreeing before sliding out and back onto her seat, something Bucky frowned at. 

“Otay!” Bub squealed, opening her green backpack before digging around a little bit. The first thing she pulled out was a small zipper pouch, the fabric printed with frogs and plants. “This has m’ keys, an’ my phone.” She pulled both out, her phone being secured in a bag inside her bag making sense as to why it took her so long to find it when her alarm went off. “An’ it has my tic tacs in it! D’ you wan’ one?” She asked with a smile, holding out tropical tic tacs to Bucky. 

“I’m okay, but thank you Bub.” He smiled, proud of her manners and willingness to share her things. He knew he couldn't take credit for her good behaviour, or her manners. She was a sweet girl even if he didn’t remind her here and there of her manners, yet he was still extremely proud of her. 

“M’kay.” Bub nodded her head, popping a few tic tacs in her mouth before moving on. “Dis, um, dis is my frog.” Bub’s once very confident attitude dulled slightly as she brought the frog stuffie out, like she was waiting for someone to say something rude. 

“He’s very cute.” Bucky reassured her, his hand brushing against the stuffed animal's foot, his fur in perfect condition. “What’s his name?” 

Y/n still seemed on alert, but opened up a little more. “I call him Green Bean.” She pats his head. 

“That’s a perfect name.” Bucky chuckles, loving how creative his Bub is. “Where did you get his outfit?” He asks, referring to the knitted overalls and t-shirt, identical to Y/n’s everyday outfit. 

“I made dem!” Bucky was happy to see her peppy spark come back as she spoke about her stuffy. Giving him the rundown on how she made them, and made clothing for all her other stuffies at home. Then she gave him the rundown on a bunny stuffie she really wanted that was identical to the one she has at home. Though “He’s no’ the same Mr! He’s a different colour!” something Bucky quickly made a mental note of. 

Bub only had her wallet and a sweater stuffed at the bottom of her bag, and a small bag of long forgotten goldfish that Bucky immediately threw out left to show. “Your turn.” Y/n reminded Bucky, gesturing to his backpack. 

“Well.” He started, opening his bag, pulling out his wallet, keys and phone. “These are the things I have on me at all times.” He said, watching Y/n pick up his keys and fiddle with them, clearly loving his accumulated keychain and key combo from the last 100 years. “Then I have a First Aid Kit.” He pulls out a bulky box, a few things banging around inside. 

“In case someone ge’s hurt?” Y/n asks, concern dripping from her expressions. 

“Exactly.” Bucky answers, though he doesn’t admit that he mainly carries it out of fear that he’ll hurt someone and need to patch them up, but he hopes that Y/n’s just thinking about scrapes and small cuts and not the carnage he’s left behind. 

“Do you have princess bandaids?” She asks with all seriousness. 

“I have princess ones, paw patrol, and starwars.” He playful one ups her, the two of them laughing before he continues. “Then I have extra crayons, colouring pages, and a couple water bottles.” He pulls out the extra things, Y/n’s hands immediately going to the colouring pages. 

“Can I do this one, please?” She asks, bouncing in her seat, her frog underneath her arm. 

“Of course, Bub.” He smiles, the frog page she chose the one he printed off last night in the hopes to give it to her. 

After the small show and tell the two of them sat together eating their cake pops and drinking their hot chocolate. Everytime he looked up Bucky realised just how lucky he was, to have found a Little who was as chill as Bub was, and as sweet as she was too. He realised that while he wished he could have met her sooner, he was happy he waited. 

“Why don’t we go to the park tomorrow?” He asked, thinking it could be good for them to get out somewhere other than just the cafe. 

“Yes!” Y/n practically jumped out of her seat at the idea, the two of them chatting about how excited they were for their adventure tomorrow.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Hello! In one of your previous posts you mentioned the game purposefully hiding the faces of figures who play a significant role in each OB boy’s trauma. So do you think this applies to Idia's parents as well (they have masks to cover their faces and they don't even have separate sprites but the default STYX members' sprites)?

[Referencing this post!]

There’s a lot to unpack here, so I’ve put my thoughts under the cut!! I hope you enjoy reading ^^

***Note: Many spoilers for books 6 + 7 of the main story!!***

I definitely wouldn’t put the Shroud parents into the same category as like… Mrs. Rosehearts, who was basically the origin from which other issues stemmed. The Shroud parents themselves were not the “root cause” for Idia’s trauma, the “cause” was Ortho’s death and Idia feeling immense guilt and shame about it. Not once has Idia blamed his parents or implicated them for this misfortune (not counting the Shroud curse, which is really the fault of their ancestors and not the Shroud parents in particular). I guess where some fans feel there is an issue is the implication that the Shroud parents did not seem to be there emotionally for Idia or offer him healthy coping mechanisms for his issue??

Before I give my thoughts on why the Shroud mom and dad obscure their faces (and how this does or doesn’t fit into the “purposefully obscuring the faces of those significantly related to each boy’s trauma), allow me to offer a different perspective to those who find fault with Idia’s parents. Firstly, consider that we know very little about the period of time between Ortho’s death leading up to Idia enrolling at NRC. Even then, most of what we know of this period comes directly from Idia, which provides us with a biased and limited perspective. Idia views most things negatively and does not seem close with his parents, so it makes sense that he would describe them in an inflated and unflattering way.

I think where a lot of the initial thoughts about the Shrouds being bad parents (a sentiment I myself had prior to their book 7 reveals) predominantly comes from them not being present in Idia’s post-OB flashback and Idia stating that his parents care more about results than their son’s feelings. We also learn from later that the family used to go out a lot as a group, but those trips stopped after Ortho died. These heavily imply his mom and dad were not there for Idia after the… incident. But let’s back up for a moment; where does the flashback pick up after Ortho died? Over two years later. That’s a large gap to not be knowing what the Shroud parents were doing during it. The STYX employees present also state that Idia has “completely withdrawn” ever losing Ortho, and this could be inclusive of the parents. So… we don’t really know for sure if, during this expanse of 2 years, the parents never made an effort to reach out. Even if they did, it seems highly likely that Idia rejected them. It’s possible that the flashback didn’t feature the parents because Idia largely shut them out of his life or did not deem them to be deeply linked to his trauma; he laments only the general family curse and the loss of Ortho, he does not direct hate at either parent in the flashback.

What we also have to remember is that it wasn’t just Idia that lost a brother that terrible day. Mr. and Mrs. Shroud their sons; Ortho literally (he passed away) and Idia figuratively (as he started to emotionally distance and isolate himself). That’s tough for any parent, but the world cannot stop for them just because they experienced a tragedy. Unfortunately, life moves on and the Shroud parents are in such important positions that they need to work. This is especially true of Mr. Shroud, who oversees all of STYX operations and is burdened with a curse that demands he constantly be surrounded by blot or else the curse will start to chip away at his own magical energy. They need to do this while juggling their own sadness over losing Ortho. There’s only so much time the Shroud parents can try to comfort Idia when they have work, their own emotional trauma to work through, and their surviving son who doesn’t seem to welcome any efforts they put in. You could even theorize that the Shroud parents (particularly the dad) threw themselves into work to try and bury their own feelings. The Shrouds do obviously have a responsibility to Idia as his parents, but parenting is not so easy of a task. They’re still individuals who have other things to balance alongside parenting and they realistically cannot dedicate 100% of their time or energy to Idia.

Now, please do not misunderstand me. I don’t want my words to come off like I’m pointing fingers or victim blaming. What I’m trying to say here is that it isn’t Idia OR his parents’ fault that they grew distant; to me, both parties were busy dealing with their own complicated emotions and their coping methods didn’t seem to align (because different people can have very different trauma responses) and ended up hurting Idia even more in the end. Making mistakes is human and normal. We've seen other characters also falter with their past actions and what they were or were not able to do at the time (Trey not standing up for or to Riddle, Lilia acting callously towards his children, etc.). This by itself is NOT necessarily a bad thing or something to hate on them for; I'd argue that what matters much more is how those matters were dealt with and what the results of those efforts have been. In the case of the Shroud parents, they do not appear to have bad blood with Idia or Ortho in modern day and the game has really done little to indicate that the Shroud parents should be viewed in a morally grey light. They've welcomed Ortho as a part of their family, openly refer to him like a third son, supported his official enrollment as a NRC student, and worry about his safety when Ortho tries to rush headfirst into danger. As for Idia, though he sometimes grumbles about his parents and tends to their actions as coming from a place of not caring, his peers have pointed out that being scolded is proof of his parents’ love for him. For example, Idia complains that his parents have sent him back to NRC so they don’t have to deal with a “nuisance” like him. He also says that there has been public interest in STYX and demand for accountability, which has specifically put his father under fire. We could view the situation like Idia has—that has parents wanted him out of their way. However, as Rook so tactfully pointed out, Idia’s parents must hold deep affection for him. This implies that the Shrouds chose to send Idia back to school for his own safety, and Mr. Shroud was willing to take the full brunt of the heat himself rather than let people suspect his son, whom Mr. Shroud must know is socially anxious. Idia has plenty of other stories about how his parents punished him for dangerous tech modifications he made, and how they’d take away his gadgets as punishment. Again, because they care about their children and their safety, even if they (especially his more stern and work-oriented father) may not show it in conventionally affectionate ways. Idia has pessimistic views that color his parents as annoying and isn’t as close to them anymore as he used to be, but this doesn’t condemn the Shrouds to the eternal hall of bad parents who never ever learn or refuse to change their ways.

Now, about their outfits! Mr. and Mrs. Shroud wear the same robes as NPC staff at STYX. This much is true!! … But I don’t think there is any deep meaning in this, seeing as Idia too wears the same robes?? I believe this is just the default work uniform for STYX researchers, regardless of the position they’re in (so this uniform detail does not technically contribute to the “intentional obscuring” of the Shroud parents’ designs).

We don’t really know what the reason for them wearing the helmets is, and nor is there very strong implication as to why. There have been plenty of fan speculations and theories including but not limited to: special personal protective equipment, magical enhancement gear, general Shroud family shyness, cost/time saving measure for the devs, etc. I can’t really say one way or another which is the “most correct” idea 🤷‍♂️

What I will say is that I do not think there was an intent to hide the Shroud parents’ faces for the same reasons that Mrs. Rosehearts’ face was. Why? Well:

Their faces are not censored in the same way as Mrs. Rosehearts was in the manga; she has her face shaded out by black, but we can still see the details of her outfit. The Shrouds, meanwhile are making the conscious decision to wear helmets—and highly personalized helmets at that. (Mr. Shroud’s helmet is different in colors and design than Mrs. Shroud’s.) This indicates individuality and wanting to make the Shroud parents stand out, not to homogenize them as anonymous black blots at which the OB boys’ trauma finds its roots.

To build off of my previous point, the comment about purposefully obscuring the face of the "source" of Riddle's trauma was ONLY said in the context of the manga, NOT the game. Therefore, in-game assets cannot be considered reliable for "the Shroud parents wear helmets to hise their faces; hidden faces = source of an OB boy's trauma" theory. If you doubt this, then please refer to each boy’s post-OB flashback. In the game, it is not just the sources of their trauma that are blotted out in black, it is literally every character (even the ones with positive memories or experiences associated with them). This includes Trey and Che’nya, whose younger form faces ARE openly depicted in the manga. So again, the “obscuring the faces of characters who are major trauma sources” thing only applies to the manga and the game does not follow this.

The Shrouds are largely depicted in a positive light. The negative aspects of them tend to come from Idia, who tends to have a pessimistic slant to his perception of the world and other people.

Idia’s personal accounts and even his post-OB flashbacks do not attribute or credit his parents for any aspect of his trauma. Much of the guilt and shame he feels is self-imposed and directed at himself.

As I’ve pointed out earlier in this post, we are assuming a lot of things about what happened in Idia’s life following Ortho’s death. The downside to this is that it doesn’t grant the parents any grace and takes everything we see (as little as it is) at face value without considering alternatives or how the parents could have changed in recent years.

Again, we don’t have a lot of information on why the Shrouds wear the helmets. I don’t think it’s wise to assume it’s for a bad reason when most of the canon has indicated we are supposed to “like” the Shrouds (or, at the very least, they’re supposed to be “redeemed” compared to the initially negative comment we were given of them).

In conclusion: no, I don’t think Idia’s parents are wearing their helmets because they’re associated with their son’s trauma. To me, the helmets feel like something they must wear for some in-universe purpose such as additional protection or to indicate their role within the organization.

[kawa-goat]

Enzo Esposito: The Most Basic Misunderstanding of a Character

Don't really wanna make this a long post, but 'wanting' doesn't mean you 'can', so here we are. Been a while since I've done one of those, so I hope I still have the gas.

I'll be frank; for a fandom that still insists on trying to justify (understanding is one thing) Theodore's actions, I'm not really surprised some people still fail to get Enzo and his arc correct. It's funny, because I wouldn't even say he's that much of a complex character with a brain-wracking morality.

What Enzo suffers is what pretty much every child character goes through: he acts like a child—therefore he's annoying. Unless your character is a serious, flawless person with a strong sense of morality, he's whiny. He's 'unnecessary'.

Gregory. Cassie. Elizabeth Afton. Charlotte Emily. Cassidy. Susie. Daniel Diaz. They're all victims of that (the treatment's even worse if the character is a girl).

With that in mind, let's try to understand who Enzo is.

Enzo Esposito

We first see him in the early parts of Missing Pieces—though he doesn't appear much in this book in general. Enzo at first is that quirky kid with nerdy interests that you can click with for some reason.

Let's see: when they first meet, Nicky and Enzo have one thing in common—their parents know each other. Like any parent, they expect their kids to become friends as well, despite the differences between them.

Still, Enzo (and I want to emphasize this) is the one that sparks their friendship. He helps Nicky get clothes. They game for a bit. Then Aaron appears and Enzo becomes distant. Everything seemed fine between Enzo and Nicky, until, for some reason, Aaron's friendship with Nicky made Enzo act strange (in the purest form of a romance novel).

Time passes, and Enzo goes largely missing (pun intended) from the novel. Nicky does end up mentioning to Aaron about Enzo's weird behavior when he appeared earlier on in the store, as well as how everyone seems to look at Aaron... differently.

Reading is a fun exercise, so I'd like you to pay attention to these following excerpts:

“I think [Enzo] said he knows you,” I say, trying again.

This time Aaron looks up. “He doesn’t know anything.” (Page 69.)

and,

“Enzo stopped hanging out with me because he’d rather play video games,” Aaron says quietly, wiggling the tab of his soda can until it comes off. (Page 70.)

Aaron suggests that Enzo would rather play his expensive videogames than wasting time with weirdos like him. He says that Enzo doesn't know anything about him, despite claiming so. This prompts Nicky to avoid Enzo as well.

A lot of things happen, Nicky is prohibited to see Aaron, and then he goes to spend quality time with the Espositos. This is one of my favorite parts of the book. Nicky tries really hard to paint them as a rich, snob family, but it crumbles real quickly when Enzo acts nice to him.

“Cool hat,” [Enzo] says, and he ruins everything because he’s nice again. (Page 131.)

Their bonding goes over gaming, and they start to have fun. Nicky eventually brings up Aaron again, and Enzo brings a new perspective over things.

It was far from being a rift over wealth, but because Mr. Peterson said something extremely inappropriate to Maritza (his younger sister, by the way). And Aaron and Mya were starting to act as if the Esposito siblings didn't belong in their house after Lucy's death—instead of the other way around.

Given Mr Peterson's weird behavior (that Nicky experienced by first-hand), it's not unreasonable to assume that Aaron lied about Enzo.

Okay, so the beef between Esposito and Peterson was a more complicated matter, instead of materialistic reason. Still, Enzo never said he hated Aaron, nor did he have anything against him. It was his father who was problem.

That's part one.

Flash forward to Waking Nightmares. Enzo's character has a peak here. He might be the quirky kid with nerdy interests, but he's far from shy.

Actually, Enzo slips up a lot.

It starts with him ditching Nicky and Maritza over Seth and Ruben—the latter who were obviously keeping Enzo around to make fun of him. Enzo was oblivious to this and acted neglectfully over Maritza missing Mya (which in turn leads to Nicky and Maritza bonding).

Anyway, the gang would go on to investigate Mr. Peterson behind Enzo's back and consent. This leads to the rift between him and Nicky in chapter 7, which mirrors the conflict between Jay and Mr. Esposito.

This chapter has one of the best delivery of lines from this book.

“Have fun with your new friends,” I say.

As soon as I have my back to [Enzo], I hear him say, “Have fun alone.” (Page 82.)

Meow.

So they obviously went too far here. Both of them. Mind you, the original topic was over the investigation of Mr. Peterson, which then escalated to something else.

The point is: I'd like to highlight that, despite acting a little rude, Enzo has a point in the overall discussion. While it's understandable that Nicky (and Maritza) wants Enzo's support in the investigation, Mr. Peterson is a very dangerous man—Enzo knows from experience. Putting Maritza and Trinity in danger is a no-brainer for him, so you can understand why Enzo would be reluctant to help and even try to pull Nicky out of it.

Now, there's something really important that needs to be stated here.

The Hello Neighbor kids aren't the mystery gang. They don't solve problems without flaws. They aren't detectives. 12 year olds should be focusing on socializing at school, not solving a missing case.

The hello neighbor kids are a bunch of children trying to find their identities in a town that has a bunch of problems.

They are all tweens. They are stupid. They say stupid things. They get out of hand.

But they aren't enemies. By the end of the day, they are still friends. They want what they think is better for them.

Despite their fall out, Enzo manages to realize that he was being used as a laughing stock by Seth and Ruben (although I'll admit that was off-screen and a little rushed). He does make up to Nicky and does apologize over what he said.

The overall point is:

Enzo is a dynamic character. He has quirky interests and acts a little nerdy (and has a lot of comebacks), but he can mess up sometimes when he thinks he's right. He's still just a kid. He doesn't hate Nicky or Aaron. He manages to see beyond his flaws and try to be a better person.

To me, Enzo is a good character because there's nuance behind him. He's not one-sided. He's not just mean, but he's also not just nice (unlike a certain character from the franchise whose only remarkable trait is being mean).

Anyway, the reason behind the mess that is this post (I'm sleepy, sorry) is that Enzo is kind of a misunderstood character in the fandom—like pretty much any child character. Usually characters that holds realistic expectations (especially when it comes to their age) tend to be hated.

Oh well.

[specific-dreamer]

can u elaborate more on pony being darrys little “shadow” like all the cute/irritating things he would do that would annoy darry but also just funny to the rest of the fam

edit: i thought i posted this way back when soz it too so long omfg soz it took so long to answer you, i’ve been thinking v hard on this and most of these might be ooc since i haven’t read the book in like a month

when i say shadow, pony tried to do literally everything darry did

i mentioned already younger pony doing darry’s workouts. like darry’s in the gym doing pull-ups? so’s pony, darry just gave him bands to assist him (pony only uses them when darry looks, he has dangled from the bar multiple times).

darry’s doing a farmers walk around the room while carring 35lb dumbbells? well, darry tried giving him 10lbs but pony’s face got all red and darry knew if he didn’t do something pony would cause a scene

(they went back home that evening with ponyboy crying and whining about how his arms hurt and felt like limp noodles)

not much of a shadow but

pony hated listening to his parents. mrs c: “pony grab your coat it’s gonna be cold”

pony: “no i won’t get cold”

darry: “pony go get my jacket i’m cold”

pony comes back with both him and darry’s jacket because “what if i get cold too ?”

in middle school, when darry first started doing jv football, he had the meanest coach ever. his coach didn’t want anybody on the field that wasn’t actively on the team and darry tried explaining that to pony one night but at this point ponyboy was at the peak of his shadowing (probably 6-8 yrs old to darry’s 12-14).

he took darry’s helmet and when asked why he said “i’m going to football practice”

at 14 darry was a peak middle school boy, he ate a lot and fast as hell at that. but when he ate at home he had to eat slowly because pony always tried to match pace with him. like if darry ate two bites in a row before chewing, so’s pony. if darry got an extra helping of green beans, ponyboys gonna make a face but he’s gonna get an extra helping too.

(subconsciously, i think pony still tries to match darry’s pacing when the eat. like darry’s done growing now, he’s 20 so eats a lot slower than he use to as a kid, and when pony catches himself matching pace he can’t help but notice that darry eats like a sloth in comparison to him)

ponyboy learned how to “read” when he was a toddler, like 2 or 3 because he saw darry reading and wanted to read too (ofc he didn’t actually know how to read but he knew when to turn the pages and he could read goodnight moon and that was good enough for him)

pony tried doing football once because he saw how much fun darry had playing and he figured if he played too then darry would have no choice but to hang out with him more

he made the team somehow but he quit before the first practice because he didn’t like how far he’d be thrown whenever he got tackled (middle school pony is skin and bones, 70lbs wet, he’s flying when he gets tackled)

he also did not like the feeling of the wind being knocked out of him everytime either

lowkey this is when the decline of his shadowing starts, the poor baby

[unmotivatedwrit3r]

One in Eleven Million (ch. 6)

damian wayne x reader x jon kent

(A/N): So I think this ends up being ten chapters? I'll try to post more frequently; I've tortured you all long enough haha. Though I'm hoping to get a couple different things out in the next couple of weeks, so you'll get more from me, just not always of this.

As always, masterlist linked here.

warnings: air travel, turbulence

wc: ~1300

~~

Damian turned from where he was watching you continue your project to face Jon. He pulled off his zip up sweater, tugging down the sleeve of his long sleeved shirt to hide the bandages Jon did at the hotel earlier in the morning, before passing it over to Jon. 

“Here.” Damian nudged him. “For the sunglasses.” 

Though he could feel your eyes on the back of his neck, Damian ignored you for now, taking his sunglasses back from Jon’s outstretched hand. In the corner, Jon curled into a ball, head tilted against the wall and face buried in Damian’s sweatshirt. Damian watched him for a moment, chest tight. No matter how many times he’d been through this with Jon, it didn’t get easier seeing him in pain. Jon flicked him a thumbs up and Damian relaxed, turning back to you. Overhead, the safety announcement came to a close. 

“He’s okay?” You asked, eyes fixed on Jon. Your arms, already wrapped around yourself, tightened. Damian nodded, eyes straying back to his left for just a moment before returning to you. 

“He will be, once we get up in the air and away from the chaos of the airport.” He tipped his chin at the project left abandoned in your lap. “How long have you been doing that?” 

“Oh a couple of years maybe? I’m not sure exactly. Do you,” you hesitated. “Do you do some kind of art? And you read Arabic, right? I saw the book you were reading last night.” Damian’s eyes scanned your face. You looked nervous, though genuine, and he found himself not minding the questions. It felt more like curiosity than idle small talk. He hated small talk.

“I do. And speak it.” Your eyes lit up. 

“Cool,” you breathed, smiling. “I’m not great at languages but I would like to be fluent in a few one day. And art?” 

“I draw,” Damian revealed. “And paint.” He fought to keep from mirroring your smile.

“That’s awesome. I write a little bit, but only as a hobby.”  

“Really? About what?” He asked genuinely. 

“Whatever I get motivation for I guess? I wish I had a better answer but I just like it.” 

“Doing things for liking them is an answer.” Damian could almost see you mulling the words around in your head. He took the moment to observe your features up close: beautiful eyes and an unexpectedly striking smile. 

“Yeah, I guess you’re right.” 

“I know.” 

Your startled laugh tore the last of his self restraint down. Damian’s face split into a grin.

The two of you spent the next while talking about everything and anything. You shared your reasons for being on the plane at all, your favorite color, your other hobbies. In turn, he showed you pictures of his art, his cat and dog, and gorgeous shots of Gotham at sunrise. He had a lot of pictures of him and a brown man with shaggy dark hair and bright blue eyes. In the recent pictures, Damian began to overtake him in height. “My oldest brother,” Damian offered when you asked. 

“You’re the youngest?” He nodded. 

“Of several. I am one of the tallest, though.” 

“Oh boy,” you laughed. “I bet your older siblings hate that.” 

“They do.” 

And then there were the pictures of Jon. Jon by himself or with Damian’s pets, Jon captured in Damian’s art, and Damian and Jon together. 

“Where was this?” You asked. In the picture, Damian was standing on a pathway covered in a dusting of snow, bundled up and on crutches. Jon, in a blue zip-up and jeans, was making a snow angel on the ground in much deeper snow beside him. 

“A few winters ago. In Gotham.” 

“I remember that snowfall” You thought back to the remnants of a Mr. Freeze plot. Following Batman’s intervention, all that was left was a snowy cold front. “But mostly I stayed inside and caught up on work during the snow day. And watched too much TV.” Damian huffed a laugh. 

On his other side, small snores emanated from the pile of denim and red fabric. Jon didn’t wake when the flight attendant came around with snacks. Damian accepted Jon’s pretzels for him.

“How long have you two known each other?” You asked, some time in. Damian looked over at Jon. The lights in the cabin were dim, and both boys were bathed in shadow. 

“A decade or so, now,” he said. Then, a little quieter. “He’s my best friend.” 

“You’re a good friend Damian.” Your eyes followed his over to Jon. He looked smaller than you’d ever seen him, all 6ft something curled up in an economy airplane seat. “He’s lucky to have you.“And I know I don’t know you guys that well but I can tell he’s a good person. And that you’re lucky to have him too.” 

Damian didn’t argue. 

“I am.” 

Two hours in, Jon stirred, pushing the hood off his head and blinking slowly. 

“Hey,” he mumbled. Your breath caught unwittingly in your throat. Jon’s voice was rough and his hair was mussed from where it had been smushed underneath his hoodie. You curled your fingers into your palms, resisting the urge to push back a curl that had dropped onto his forehead. Jon rubbed the backs of his hands against his eyes, dislodging his glasses. “Did I fall asleep?” 

“Morning,” you managed. Some part of you was surprised you managed to get out any words at all, much less in a tone that wouldn’t pass for a squeal. 

Damian took his sweatshirt back from Jon’s offering hand. “Feeling better?”

“Yeah,” he said, attempting to stretch while crammed in a seat with no legroom. You just watched, chest squeezing pleasantly. Damian was watching similarly. What am I doing? You wondered to yourself. He’s not yours, neither of them are. 

“You needed the sleep,” Damian said beside you. Jon snorted out a laugh. 

“Thanks Dames,” he said dryly. 

“Always.” 

You wrenched your attention away from the boys, turning your phone over in between your hands. It was too late, you knew. You were already attached. But this was a plane, a vehicle to get you from place to place. There was no reason they would be any different, just a passing point in your life. Selfishly, you hoped they might be more. 

A tap on your shoulder from Damian brought you back into the conversation. 

“Huh?” Two sets of concerned eyes were watching you carefully. Your eyes met green then blue for only a moment. “What’s up? I zoned out for a moment, sorry. Tired.” 

Damian looked like he wanted to argue with you. You hoped he wouldn’t; you might have only met him the day before, but you had a feeling he’d figure it out anyway. 

“Do you know how far we are?” Jon asked instead. 

“Oh sure I can check that one sec.” You opened the airline map on your phone. “About an hour and a half away.” The little airplane icon on your phone screen placed the plane somewhere above the Chicago area. “See?” 

“Oh that’s cool!” Jon said to Damian, taking the device from you. “Kinda looks like the thing your dad has for my dad.” There was context you were missing, you assumed. Damian huffed a laugh. 

“It’s a similar technology.” 

“What do your dads do?” You asked them. 

“He’s a journalist,” Jon offered. 

“Businessman.” Damian’s lips quirked up. “Family business.” 

That did not clear it up for you whatsoever. You snapped your mouth shut on any follow-up questions at the jump of turbulence. Your shoulders stiffened instinctively for a moment before you relaxed back into your seat. This wasn’t your first batch of turbulence and it probably wouldn’t be your last. Damian didn’t seem shaken. Jon, though, looked terrified, one hand gripping Damian’s wrist and the other tapping furiously against his thigh. 

“Is this normal? On commercial planes?” 

“Sometimes,” Damian assured. “The pilot warned of turbulence earlier.” 

“They usually come over the loudspeaker when it happens, just to reassure people.” 

Your prediction came true with a crackle of the intercom. 

“Just an average bit of turbulence folks. All numbers are still in the green, so no need to worry. As a precaution, the seatbelt signs are going back on so please stay seated if possible.” 

The pilot’s voice seemed to reassure Jon. You, for one, were tired of hearing it.

[5five5five5five5five5five]

Pls headcanons of a flirty dolores [human] and five .

Trying to forget "that season".

Denial stage activated.

Pls and thank you.

Good day/night.

OOOHH YES! but first i want to write a human Dolores of my own then we can get to the flirty stuff. * she is in her mid 30's and works as a librarian who LOVES books and is very smart and pretty and perfect.

she is MADDENINGLY in love with the Noir detective novel series " Five "max" Hargreeves and the Umbrella of Time. a long running series about a Old man who turns into a young man some times and solves crime with his dog Mr. pennycrumb. * she hated that when they turned the books into movies, they hired a actor that looked NOTHING like how she sees him in her head. Five looks like how she sees him in her head. she cant pinpoint why it bugs her so much. its just wrong. thats not him??? * one day well sorting books, she no clips into the backroom subways and gets stuck. idk how. s4 logic aka make shit up. but she thinks "what would Five do?" and copy his mapping and travel style. * and then they meet......Jesus my kinnie ass heart melts even thinking about it lol. * "five?!" "Delores?!.....are you..real this time....." "wait how do you know my name??....and yes i am very much real? are YOU?" "how do you know MY name?? and yes??" then they nervously chuckle and tell each other how they know each other. * they get a bit sad that the others Delores and five were not real and five admits he got the better end of the stick by being a cool book character....she didn't deserve to be just a......mannequin. but Delores reassures him that his life needed her and that's what gave it so much value. "and at least you got to physically hold me~ i just had....really embaressing art of you...." *Delores drawing him then she thinks he's not looking. she wishes he was a bit older but her self shipping ass is used to his age "powers" but knows this Five cant turn back. at least he's not 13 Five lol. *he's tried to explain his age situation a few times.... shes so understanding about it and five, for the first time, feels seen....and got does his face get red. she knows he's a old man. she loves him BECAUSE he's actually an old man. ANYWAY TO THE FLIRTY STUFF. MY BRAIN IS JUST ON FIRE WITH HUMAN DELORES. * they CAN NOT stop looking at each other. five feels so stupid being THIS flustered. its not his wife. he knows this. but god....shes so stunning. younger then his Delores but he doesn't mind. * she's taller then him no matter what. she was taller then him when he was old, young doesn't matter. shes a tall women and he loves that about her. *her always behind his shoulder correcting his math. and him huffing and admitting shes right. *she likes to head to him. he likes listening. hearing her voice with none of his own voice fused in is so refreshing. he would read his head in her lap and just relax for once in his life. *them slow dancing and mumbling soft words of comfort to each other. *she loves booping his nose. at first, it bits him because the handler used to but ends up finding it nice. its a trait she would have. *he loves watching her move. dance. walk. talk. shes in front of him. again, their eyes are glued to each other and its hard hard not to. just knowing their loves are real keeps them going. *that art meme of all the lovestruck chibis surrounding a very flustered person. that's Delores if she walked into the deli. imagine all the fives looking over and melting in surprise. crumbling in their seats because they are filled with "i miss my wife,tails" energy. the five we are following for this post has to fight them back and give protective glares well she admits the attention is nice and oh god! so many fives! *when five finds a way to return, he doesn't fucking hide it and want to introduce her to his family so bad. she is worried about ending up in a different timeline. he understands the risk but at this point, he just wants the love of his life. and Shes so starved for adventure that she agrees wholeheartedly.

sorry if this wasn't all flirty themed stuff, i just really wanted to write Delores.

[murfpersonalblog]

IWTV S2 Ep8 Musings - The Ep8 Script (Pt2)

Thanks to slitwrstsavior sharing the script and @memorian for digitizing it! <3

Had to do Pt1 in chunks, cuz of Tumblr's 30-pic limit.

DANGIT. So this was INTENTIONALLY vague, not just some weird choppiness or cut footage.

Ohhhh.... They added just a tiny extra line--

But it's a SPICY line, cuz it implies that Les wasn't fully cooperating/on board with the rehearsal. BUT! Like I said, there's no effing mention/emphasis/indication that he was INJURED, either, which is an L.

They changed it--Louis looks UP, into the middle distance.

I'm fine with it either way--this scene had me and my bff SCREECHING.

Pet peeve, but the crew really should've been spritzing these vampires with a spray bottle of red blood, so we'd SEE the BLOOD SWEAT. (I was thinking about this when that post was circulating about vampire sex in IWTV fanfiction, like, AMC didn't show visual vampiric cues like Blood Sweat or blood (ejaculate) stains on the coffin lining--Les' was WHITE, and we KNOW Loustat was going at it in the coffins, so were they just reupholstering CONSTANTLY?) The books mention Blood Sweat all the time, all over their clothes, but the show just focused on Blood Tears (and ofc Les' ear hemorrhages).

OOOOOOOO.....!!! 👀 That highlighted bit was cut out! "You have grown warm again, filled with the love which you first came to Paris with." WUUUUT!?! So Armand's mind-wipe gaslighting BS against Louis was in the exact same vein as Claudia "finding her childlike wonder again"--which was IMPOSSIBLE, since ARMAND was the one that beat it out of her, Mr. 500 Performances, Mr. Sleep In Your Costume; Mr. They Gave Me A Choice; Mr. I Will Not Harm You.

I seriously suspect that every time Louis had an "outburst" like he said in 1x2, or "acted out," Armand would be like "Go back to your first night in Paris--forget all the bad stuff, just be warm & happy [with me];" but then Lou would FIGHT it (or rather: Daniel's constant prodding would PUSH Louis to fight it), and Armand would have to do it all over again. (My question's why didn't he just kill Daniel? Arrogance, I reckon--he severely underestimated just how good Daniel was; and "You can get lazy," like Lou said, cuz Armand didn't even bother to read Dan's thoughts to learn that the Talamasca was feeding Daniel all this extra information).

They cut that line, too--was Louis parroting him (fighting hypnosis), asking him (for clarification), or challenging him (indignant)?

That might also explain the new couches, LOL, if he wrecked them from the impact or bled on them or something.

(We already know Jacob improvised shaking Eric's hand.)

MLS = LePere Schloop?

Too bad we didn't get this--I wanted to see the main door/lobby of the penthouse (certainly not for my The Sims Dubai penthouse layout, no sir~!) .

They added extra lines about the hurricane being pre-July.

Uhhh.... This might imply certain things. Cuz I've been saying that the post-Paris timeline makes no effing sense (X X), and now we have confirmation(?) that Louis' had an Amex membership since 1951.... Even though Amex credit cards were only started in 1958, as a competitor for the Diner's Card that started in 1950 -- so was Louis an INVESTOR who helped launch the Amex credit card!? XD STFU, AMC! I thought y'all said No Forrest Gumpness!? XD

Also: HOW does Louis qualify for all these credit cards? (We saw he had a regular Amex Green Card in 1973 SanFran). According to Amex application qualifications, you need a US SSN or ITIN; OR a foreign credit card to apply.

And France isn't listed. (Unless anyone's French and has an Amex card who can correct me?)

SSNs have been issued since FDR (1936), so Louis SHOULD have one...but it would be from 1936-40 (pre-Mardi Gras), or after Paris () . Meaning on paper he'd be in his 80s in 2022, so I don't imagine he'd be a Black Card carrier for too much longer, unless he's got someone on the inside cooking the books for him.

Omfg AMC I hate y'all. got me out here overthinking effing PROPS.

They added a few lines about the green "pearly gates" of 1132:

And took out a few lines:

And took out an interesting bit of tea:

So the people of ~1940s NOLA thought Claudia was Louis' daughter (Claudia DPDL confirmed???) but the grapevine ALSO rumored that she was his child bride--OOF! 💀 (Which tracks with the AR pedo/incest stuff. Thank goodness they DON'T remember his name!)

Rolin keeps mentioning this smashed piano, but I HAVE LOOKED, but I also have crap eyesight (curse you, midnight gaming sessions), and I just don't frikkin see any smashed piano. HELP.

DEFINITELY not the Mayfair mansion though! XD DANG, I wish they'd included a few frames of gangs tryna rob the Garden District homes, coming up on the Mayfair house, and IMMEDIATELY booking past it like they'd seen a ghost. CROSSOVER, AMC, COME ONNNN.

Drats, I wanted to see Millennial Fledgling try to square up against Lou, and get one of Lou's patented condescending smirks. XD

And Les looked dirty, but he didn't look malnourished, sadly; which I'm still mad about.

In the FLOORBOARDS? OK, come through, BRUCE--I been saying this about Lestat, yet people wanna call me names!

New rule, AMC: NEVER remove Loustat lines. We need ALL the angst. Les out here like: ain't no way a baddie like Lou is SINGLE! XD

S3 BETTER show us Les watching the most vapid ish on Youtube, omg.

LOL

Drats--it might have been cool to see him with those huge pupils he gets when he's mad/hungry, but ah well; he still looked like a gorgeous BAMF.

EXCELLENT SCRIPT, EXCELLENT SHOW, GAAAAAAAH!!! ❤️

[unknown--author]

Sewing Clothes and Drinking Tea

I apologize for being gone so long, life got busy. I finished this WIP while in science class because I hate science and decided to post it.

Feedback and criticism are welcome! Just please be nice about it.

QUICK SYNOPSIS or whatever it's called: Professor Crewel and Prefect Yuu bonding over sewing and tea because of a secret influence (you'll know by the end).

CW: Yuu is anxious (probably, it's just my thought process, they might just come off as nervous), I don't know how to describe tea or sewing, this takes place before Book 5 (VDC is referenced but Yuu doesn't know what it is)

Happy St. Patrick's Day!

It's the day of my people :D

Yuu trudged toward the school store, their messenger bag shrugged over their shoulder. Ace and Deuce had torn holes into their uniforms by getting into a scrap with Octavinelle students (read: Floyd). Not only that, but Grim had a spat with Leona, tearing his bow.

Now the trio was employing the prefect to fix their clothes. Yuu sighed and pinched the bridge of their nose. They were going to end up in debt because of their idiots.

As soon as they entered the store, Mr. S was at their side, an apologetic look on his face. “I’m sorry, little devil. We just ran out.”

Yuu had learned not to question how he knew these things. Though, they suspected the shadows had something to do with it. “Really?” Sam always had what they needed in stock. “Did a delivery not come in?”

He shook his head. “No, Divus bought the last of the sewing materials. From how much he got, he’s either working on a new project or a large group of imps wrecked their clothes.”

“Oh.” The prefect clicked their tongue. Dammit, tomorrow was Monday. If Grim didn’t have his bow fixed, Crowley wouldn’t be pleased with them. And while Ace and Deuce weren’t in Ramshackle and, technically, weren’t their responsibility, Yuu would rather not let their friends down. Also, hearing Ace whine about a collar for a week sounded like hell.

“Well, little devil, I’m sure if you asked politely enough, Divus would lend you some.” Sam had obviously noticed their downcast expression.

Yuu perked up. “Do you think?”

“Yes, yes.” Sam went back to stocking behind the counter.

“Wait.” They deflated a bit. “Won’t Professor Crewel be at home? It is the weekend, Mr. S.”

"He keeps all his projects and sewing materials at his school office."

"Why?"

Sam shot a small smile their way. "He works on them in between classes and after school."

"Doesn't he have paperwork to do during those times?" Yuu asked, feeling bemused.

His small smile turned into a cheeky one. "Maybe," he shrugged.

They shook their head in amusement. "Thank you, Mr. S." They turned to leave. "I'll tell you how it goes!"

"There's no need; I'll know," Sam chuckled.

~~~~~~~~~~~

As Yuu walked through the desolate halls, some doubts filled their mind. What if Professor Crewel wasn't there? And if he was, would he listen to them? Would he help? Or would he turn them away with the flick of his wrist? The prefect was quite intimidated by the fur-coat-wearing teacher. And for good reason!

Divus Crewel had a strict way of teaching. He never stood for tardiness or horsing around. Any student who went against him would be punished severely. He taught with a whip and a terrifying glare. And last but not least, he reminded Yuu of Cruella De Vil. She had scared them shitless as a kid. With her freaky design and her intent to kill puppies and skin them for their coats, how could she not have?

They hesitated outside the alchemy classroom door. If they wanted, they could turn back now. They could buy a new bow for Grim. Ace and Deuce aren't precisely their problems, the duo have a housewarden and should know how to care for themselves.

A voice cut off their thoughts. "Come in, pup!" It called through the door.

Yuu creaked the door open at the invitation. The infamous Professor Crewel sat at a desk at the front of the room. He had a needle in his hand while fabric floated around him. "Hello, professor."

"Sam told me you were coming." The shadows seemed to dance when he said that. "What is it that you need?"

"Um, well..." Yuu looked at his forehead, avoiding eye contact. "Uh, you see, Grim and my friends tore a few stitches in their clothing and asked me to fix it up, again. I ran out of the thread and patches I needed, so I went to Mr. S's shop. And, well, you got the last of it.

"Mr. S then said that you maybe, probably, might let me borrow some of the materials?" Their rambling got quicker and quieter the more they went on.

Divus quirked an eyebrow. It was obvious that the prefect was nervous around him. It was no wonder considering his reputation with the student body. "Let me take a look at the damage those pups have done."

Yuu fumbled with their bag before pulling the torn clothing out. They walked over and handed it over to the teacher. He inspected the tears.

Most of Grim's vow was now shredded ribbons, Leona had got him good. Ace had gotten the brunt of Floyd's attack; Deuce's uniform wasn't as bad. Their clothes were torn from a force pulling at them and there were claw marks here and there.

Divus sighed. These pups were always so reckless. "I'll mend these. Pull up a chair." He waved his hand to the side, gesturing toward a seat.

Yuu immediately grabbed one, bringing it over to the side of the teacher's desk. They sat down, watching Professor Crewel work silently.

Some of the black fabric overhead floated down and scissors cut patches out of it. Magic threaded the needle for Divus. He grabbed it out of the air and began sewing the uniforms back into their proper form. The Ramshackle prefect watched in awe at the teacher's skill, but they felt a bit confused.

"Professor," they said, pulling his concentration away from his work. "Why don't you just use magic to sew?"

He sighed, expecting this question. "I don't want to build up too much blot."

"But you're making the fabrics and material float?"

"It's easier to organize them if they're not all dumped on my desk," he answered, a loud snip coming from his scissors. One patch down.

The prefect was about to ask another question but Crewel interrupted them. "Would you like some tea, pup?"

Yuu, caught off-guard by the sudden question, takes a moment to answer. "Um, yes please." After the whole Azul fiasco, they were suspicious of any free things offered to them.

Divus opened one of his desk drawers and pulled out a teapot and two teacups seemingly out of nowhere. From Yuu's perspective, the drawer looked like a void. "How did you do that?" they blurted out, amazement on their face.

The teacher stifled a chuckle. "It's an enchantment so the drawer has unlimited space. I cast it back when I started teaching here." He poured tea into the two cups and pushed one toward the teen.

The smell wafted up to their nostrils. They could've died happy then and there; it smelt so wonderful. They couldn't quite put their finger on it even though it was familiar. "What type of tea is this? It smells fantastic!"

"It's a walnut and almond green tea. I had it imported from the Queendom of Roses," Divus said proudly, taking a sip before going back to work.

Yuu took a sip as well, humming in delight. "Is it specially made there?"

He nods, focusing on the needle in his hand. "It's said that the Mad Hatter drank it at his unbirthday parties. Only the people of the queendom know how to brew it."

They muttered something about Riddle and his mother before speaking again. "Hmm, green tea's quite common back home. It's easy to get; you don't need to import it from another country."

"How interesting, pup." Two more loud snips sounded through the room. Two more patches done.

After his indifferent response, Yuu goes quiet. They take a sip of their tea and inspect the cup for something to do. It was plain white with little green leaves attached to thin vines. Each leaf was different in shape and size, but still similar. As they examined the teacup, they realized it looked authentic.

"Professor Crewel, is this handmade?" They held the teacup up so he knew what they were talking about.

Snip. Snip. Snip. Three patches and two uniforms done. "Yes, this set was handmade by an old friend of mine," he said as he grabbed his magic pen. The black fabric floated back up into the air. In its place, strips of grey and white fabric dropped onto the professor's desk.

Yuu watched with fascination as Divus lined up the material meticulously. "Who was the friend?"

"A friend from college, Ansel. He actually went to RSA. We met when I was in my second year and he was in his first." He sounded nostalgic as he spoke. "We met at that year's VDC. Ansel was performing for his team while I was a costume for mine. We went all out that year," he chuckled, now sewing the strips together.

"VDC?" the prefect mumbled before shaking their head. They'll ask about what that is later. "Were you good friends with him? Do you both still talk?"

The man sighed. "Yes, we were good friends. No, I don't talk with him much anymore, pup. We still text every once in a while. Before you ask, the last time we actually talked was at his wedding." He had finished fashioning the strips into a grey and white striped ribbon. Instead of fixing Grim's old bow, he had made a new one.

Yuu quickly downed the rest of their tea before they were handed the new and improved school uniforms. "Ah, thank you, sir."

Divus nodded curtly. "You're welcome, pup. Now run along." He got right back to work mending other clothing articles.

The prefect was about to walk out the door when he called out to them. "Pu- Prefect Yuu?"

They turned around to face him. "Yeah?"

"My door is always open if you need anything." He shot them a small, warm smile.

"Okay, thank you," they said, smiling brightly back at him before leaving.

Unbeknownst to the two, a certain shadow darted out of the room.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Sam was closing up shop when a shadow appeared next to him. It looked lively as it waved its arms around and seemingly danced.

Same glanced at it every now and then, wiping the store's front counter as he "heard" what took place in the alchemy teacher's classroom.

He chuckled afterward. "I knew they'd get along!"

The shadow shook its head in response.

"Look, I know it was bad to lie to the little devil, but hey, it ended up benefitting them. Now they have someone responsible that they can rely on." The shopkeeper bent under his counter and pulled out sewing materials.

"I better go put these back now, huh?"

~~~~~~~~~~~

Thank you for reading! I'm sorry for any OOC behavior and anything I get wrong about the slight mention of VDC. I haven't made it past book 4 yet. This is my second time writing an actual fic for this fandom and my first time actually posting one! On Sunday, I might post a drawing/painting that goes with this fic. I don't have my sketchbook on me right now.

Belongs to @unknown--author

PLEASE DO NOT REPOST ON TUMBLR, AO3, WATTPAD, OR ANY OTHER SITES (yes, I'm this cocky that my work could be stolen)

[kimyoonmiauthor]

How to Break Elmore Leonard's Ten Rules of Writing

which is mostly secretly hating on women given the bisection of the time period he was writing...

Prologue: Avoid prologues like in Lord of the Rings by JRR Tolkein

Like a dark and stormy night, never open a book with the weather like Sir Edward George Earle Bulwer-Lytton’s Paul Clifford

“Never use a verb other than ‘said’ to carry dialogue” he announced gravely and then added but Virginia Woolf does it in Mrs. Dalloway: “Kreemo,” murmured Mrs. Bletchley, like a sleep-walker.

“Never use an adverb to modify the verb said!” like Emily Bronte “Sit down,” said the young man, gruffly. “He’ll be in soon.”—Emily Bronte, Wuthering Heights.

Keep your exclamation points under control! You are never allowed more than two! Two! Per 100,000- words of prose. Don’t be like poor Ms. Jane Austen in Pride and Prejudice, then: “Oh! Single, my dear, to be sure! A single man of large fortune; four or five thousand a year. What a fine thing for our girls!”

Suddenly all hell broke loose under the admonishment of Elmore Leonard who was very gravely hating on 19th century writers (particularly women) and their predecessors when he said one can’t use suddenly not all hell broke loose. Don’t be like Ms. Jane Austen then? “He was then, he said, on his way to Longbourn on purpose to inquire after her. Mr. Darcy corroborated it with a bow, and was beginning to determine not to fix his eyes on Elizabeth, when they were suddenly arrested by the sight of the stranger, and Elizabeth happening to see the countenance of both as they looked at each other, was all astonishment at the effect of the meeting.”—Jane Austen, Pride and Prejudice uses “Suddenly” 16 times.

He askingeu as whiteu person to not be speakingeu in diarect. “Now she had got a start, and she went on and told me all about the good place. She said all a body would have to do there was to go around all day long with a harp and sing, forever and ever. So I didn’t think much of it. But I never said so. I asked her if she reckoned Tom Sawyer would go there, and she said not by a considerable sight. I was glad about that, because I wanted him and me to be together.” - Mark Twain, Huckleberry Finn

One should not describe the long paragraph on “Thomas Gradgrind, sir. A man of realities. A man of facts and calculations. A man who proceeds upon the principle that two and two are four, and nothing over, and who is not to be talked into allowing for anything over. Thomas Gradgrind, sir—peremptorily Thomas—Thomas Gradgrind. With a rule and a pair of scales, and the multiplication table always in his pocket, sir, ready to weigh and measure any parcel of human nature, and tell you exactly what it comes to. It is a mere question of figures, a case of simple arithmetic. You might hope to get some other nonsensical belief into the head of George Gradgrind, or Augustus Gradgrind, or John Gradgrind, or Joseph Gradgrind (all supposititious, non-existent persons), but into the head of Thomas Gradgrind—no, sir!”—Hard Times by Charles Dickens

As he is hating on 19th century writers, talking about the long winding brook that passed behind Mrs. Lynde’s house that suddenly was disciplined by her very manner would be too much like naturalism, and thus poor Anne Shirley could not talk about the The White Way of Delight in L.M. Montgomery’s Anne of Green Gables.

Oops I skipped this part.

Context

Elmore Leonard lived roughly from the Modernist era to the Post Modernist era which looked at parring back prose, though often to extremes, often blaming probably unfairly the likes of Mark Twain. When he wrote these rules this was in full swing. This is not in the era where women finally got some rep in the writing section of the shelves.

For context, it's more likely women in the 19th century were likely to use adverbs and were more into the naturalist movement. The later Modernist movements, especially as genre solidified and took shape (as argued by Lucy Worsley), there was a huge backlash against the Naturalist movements which encompassed, you guessed it, a large swath of women and more "look to the future" types. As men won the discourse a bit on story, story structure and "proper story" (cue my eyeroll here), a lot of the rules written were specifically to lock out earlier sets of "backwards ways of writing" and also targeting women a lot. So there were a lot, lot, of treaties up through the 2000's on "precision, cut the fat, no adverbs" which honestly, if you know the range of literature is pretty much aimed squarely on hating how women were taught to write.

BTW, it's a lie, though, that Mark Twain was the King of Precision as many tried to argue about him and retcon into his history, which the Mark Twain Foundation often has to fight with false quotes attributed to him. While we're talking about men, there were naturalists that survived, like Tolkien who spends a fair amount of time on English countryside descriptions (Yes, descriptions, not detail), and the laughable Pre-Raphaelites, whom even LM Montgomery took a few swings at, though at the same time she admired them.

The rule is if it works for your story, helps build your tone and theme, emotion, etc do it. That's it. The quotes and references in context, you can see WHY they did as they did, and it's not a great master that can only do it, which is the usual retort. Nope. You can do it too, you just have to know why you're doing it and effectively communicate that to the reader. Though I do wish the patience of a Victorian reader sometimes as a reader and also with readers...

[cepetriwrites]

Alicent Reverses the Hourglass Chapter 51 Pt 2 Memes

Is this your way of flirting? God no wonder you’re single Laenor. JFC

~~~~

“You never faltered, Lady Alicent. You must have a deep devotion to your husband.”

Alicent:

Anskfkglskdkd Alicent’s avoidant attachment style will never not be funny to me. She just did all that weird Valyrian stuff INCLUDING permanently branding herself, and won’t give a mild, “yeah I’m fond of him.”

Meanwhile in all of Daemon’s marriages his wives were very open about their feelings towards him. He’s going crazy. I would be too. Bro is married but somehow still in a situationship with HIS WIFE.

~~~~

Alicent trying to guess out why Daemon is suddenly having an attitude (& being very wrong)

(Tumblr only lets me have one video per post so I have to find links to videos if I don’t want to split up everything. How dare they limit my greatness 😠)

Girl he’s told multiple times now that he wants your love and devotion. This is not a mystery!

He was a children’s beginner reading book. But she’s using him as a coaster.

~~~

I’ll be nice. Part of this is Alicent having a different way of expressing affection than daemon. She doesn’t come from a verbally affectionate background, you determine how someone feels through their actions. In her mind the fact she’s done things like running Dragonstone & supporting his future claim should make it obvious. For daemon it’s not real until it’s said. It’s interesting seeing their personality difference and how their traumatic upbringings make it worse.

~~~~

Dragonkeepers watching the public sex ceremony energy

Daemons lucky Alicent matches his freak cause why wouldn’t you tell your Catholic wife they’re going to have public sex? 😭😭😭😂😂😂😂

Imagine you’re working your first shift as a Dragonkeeper & you find out you gotta watch a rider consummate his marriage with his wife as part of the job.

~~~~

Me waiting for daemon & Alicent to pass out from dehydration/electrolyte imbalance because they’re having sex in a sauna

Gatorade doesn’t even exist yet either 😭😭😭😭

~~~~

Alicent & Daemon: *banging in a sauna*

Their autonomic nervous systems trying to keep them cool

They’re going to stand up after afterwards and immediately hit the ground.

~~~~

Alicent watching Daemon go blank after she says I love in in Valyrian.

Alicent: wow I definitely fucked up the pronunciation. This is so embarrassing, I’ve embarrassed myself. He’s embarrassed.

Meanwhile Daemon

His wife said I love you and he blue screened lol

~~~~

“I’m not made for love. I never was. My father made me for power and Viserys made me for labour. My sons made me for their own ends, a kingdom built upon my silence. It should have stayed that way.”

Me

The cycle of intergenerational trauma spinning like a hamster wheel. I really hope she gets off the ride this time.

~~~~

Daemon *chucks the hourglass into the fire*

Me

Askfkfkwofodke it was such a nice moment and then he does this bullshit??? I hate him so much. Why can’t he admit reversing time has its benefits????

~~~~~

“Let it!” Daemon’s eyes were alight even as the cave fell into darkness again. “The fate of this world is not yours to shoulder.”

Me not paying attention to the (admittedly good points) Daemon is making to Alicent cause I’m too busy tweaking out over the fact he THREW THE HOURGLASS INTO A FIRE

Me trying to figure out what about the Valyrian wedding ceremony Viserys thought would be so exhausting for Alicent

Cause the thing that makes it tiring is the sex inside a sauna. We’ve seen you have sex Viserys. That’s not tiring. Her body trying to compensate from fluid loss would be doing the heavy lifting. Thinking awfully highly of ourselves Mr Leprosy aren’t we? You’re struggling not to call out your dead wife’s name during sex. You think you’re laying down pipe? Be so for real right now.

~~~~~

Reddish is such a talented writer who’s written such an amazing, dramatic, funny, and gut wrenching story. I’m at the edge of my seat with every chapter update. I’m so proud of her for getting nominated, she deserves every one of them. If you also enjoy reddish’s work vote on the form by December 29th!

Vote Here!

Memes Masterpost

[softspeirs]

A/N: I am an emotional wreck after that last episode. No spoilers here, just looking for a place to put my feelings. Let's check in on our pals John and Ellie.

five. out of order.

Her first few letters are short, silly, rambling. He devours every word.

His heart is still pounding and he knows he's had a silly smile on his face for the last hour or so as he sits up with the light on. The nurse on duty has told him to go to bed a few different times, but he can't help it.

It's like a book you can't put down, the way she's written to him. He still can't believe it.

The next letter unfolds on crisp, sharp white paper, her words in loopy script that slants slightly - she’s left handed, he’s learned.

Dear Major Egan,

If we would have had more time, I would have asked how you prefer to be addressed. I hear your friends call you Bucky, but it feels too… familiar, somehow.

I hope you’re safe.

The last time we spoke, there was something in your eyes that I recognized from the last time my brother was on leave, and that’s why I felt I had to turn you away. I hope you don’t think less of me - turning away a perfectly good patron isn’t normally standard practice, you see.

I thought about it for a long time after you left. By now you’re probably getting ready to fly, and I hope you aren’t too reckless. I don’t know if you see it, but so many people care about you and want you to come back. You might break Mrs. Henderson’s heart if you don’t swipe flowers from her garden ever again.

I hope you’re well. I’ll write to you again soon.

Yours,

Eleanor Peters

He can feel the indent in the page where she signed her name. He imagines her sitting under dim lamp light, writing to someone who only spoke to her on occasion and usually when he was rip roaring drunk.

For a moment, he feels unbearably ashamed. But he remembers when he had come to apologize to her and when she had given him something to think about for those years locked behind the wire - the way she wrote to him the entire time he was gone.

She wouldn’t have done that if she didn’t think he was worth it… right?

He finally falls asleep and when he wakes, Buck is there. He’s reading, and Bucky wonders if he slept at all the night before.

It was hard for him too, to get used to being able to sleep through the night without the fear of being awoken or the instinct to keep one eye open.

“Sleep well?” Buck asks, not looking up until he dog ears the corner of his page.

“Fine. You?”

Buck shakes his head. “Not really.” He meets his friend’s gaze. “Hard to get used to the quiet.”

Bucky nods. “Flying again today?”

“Later.” Buck confirms.

“I think— I think I need to go speak to Ellie. As soon as I get cleared to be up and about.”

Buck’s eyebrows rise. “Yeah?” A smile is growing on his face.

Bucky rolls his eyes. “Shut up.”

Buck laughs. “I didn’t say anything.”

“It was your face that said it.”

“I think she could be real good for you, John.” Buck says, still snickering a little. “She seemed nice.”

“Don’t know what I’ve got to offer anyone, much less someone like her.” Bucky mutters.

“Hey. You remember what I told you?” Buck leans forward, elbows on his knees. “You’re worth knowing. She wanted to know you back then, if those letters are anything to go off of.”

"Yeah." Bucky looks at the small table at his bedside, to where the stack of envelopes sits. He thinks of the last one in the stack. The one that's already wrinkled from him reading it over and over.

Bucky,

I've decided I've been writing to you long enough to call you by your moniker, though if I'm wrong feel free to address anything you write back to me as Miss Eleanor - it's what everyone else calls me, and you want to know a secret? I hate my first name.

It sounds too matronly, but no one calls me Ellie, not really. Only a few of my closest friends.

I've been writing to you now for over a year. I haven't posted a single envelope. By now, I know that you're alive at least. That was a relief. But I still don't know where to send letters, and if I did, I don't know how you'd take them. This friendship seems awfully one-sided at the moment, though of course that's my fault.

I wish I would have had the guts to post some of these letters, but especially this one, for a few reasons.

Major Crosby stopped by today and I tried to be coy when I asked of any word of you, but I think he's picking up on the hints. Oh, I hope he doesn't give you too much grief about it when you get back (because you will get back) - so I figure the cat's out of the bag now, so to speak.

I keep hearing rumblings about camps all over Europe. Horrible, evil things, and my heart just aches thinking of you in a place like that. You don't deserve any of this, and even if it sounds ridiculous - I barely know you - I just feel it deep down. That you're a good person.

The last reason I wish I had enough courage to send this is to say thank you. Because as much as I started writing these letters for you, they've become something that's truly helped me, too. I enjoy writing little mundane things about my day and it makes me feel as if I'm not so alone here either. Things are quiet in the village as always, and I don't have many friends. It's just me, my younger brother Henry, and my Dad. No word on when my brother Daniel might be home yet, and it’s too quiet in our house.

I've been rambling too long. Like I said, maybe someday you'll read this, and maybe someday I'll have the guts to just tell it right to your handsome face in person: I think I'm smitten with you, Major John Egan, and I should have told you that before you left.

I hope you think of me sometimes. It's a little selfish, but I'll say it anyway.

I hope you're safe.

Yours (and I mean that),

Ellie

When he first read that, he felt so clearly that he could see inside her brain. He felt her nerves to be writing it, the way she felt a little silly at writing to someone who she barely knew, but especially knowing she was never going to send it.

But he also feels his heart tighten every time he reads the last paragraph, because he knows exactly how she feels. While he wishes she would have found a way to get these letters mailed, he also loves the way he's gotten to know her like this.

Through her own written word, he feels like he's lived the last two years right here with her, going through her day and getting to know who she is.

They're doing this all out of order. He knows it's ridiculous.

But he can't help but feel a little head over heels with her, too.

He thinks it's too soon to tell her that, no matter what she's said in her letter. But he feels it, nonetheless. Stranger things have happened.

Buck is still watching him, a small smile on his face. "You want me to call down to the pub and see if she'll come by and sit with you for awhile?"

Bucky tenses, but decides he's done feeling embarrassed about the whole thing. "You'd save me going AWOL and getting my head ripped off by Nurse Wells," he says casually.

"You got it. I'll see what I can do." His friend says, rising to his feet.

"Be careful." Bucky says, out of habit. These missions, they're milk runs, but he still tenses watching Buck walk away from him. He wonders if that feeling is ever going to go away.

Buck waves over his shoulder, and then he's gone.

.

An hour later, he hears the click of her shoes before he sees her. He imagines he can smell the sweet floral of her perfume too.

"Heard you missed me." She says, sitting down with a parcel in her lap, no fanfare.

He grins. "Maybe. Whatcha got there?"

"Thought you could do with a home cooked -- well, pub cooked - meal." She blushes a little, but then straightens like she's come to a decision. "Besides, if you're not well enough to take me out to dinner yet, then I'll bring dinner to you."

He's well and truly gone.

She eyes the stack of letters on his table. "You've read them all?"

His eyes are dark with emotion when he meets her gaze. "A few times."

"And?" She sounds nervous. "Do you think l'm completely mental?"

He laughs. "Ellie, I know we're doing this a little out of order." He reaches for her hand. "But I know everything I need to know about you. And I'm sure about this." He arches an eyebrow, "That is, if you're still smitten."

She blushes in full then, trying to pull her hand away from his. He doesn't let her; tugs her closer, and kisses her temple when he can reach her. He sees her shoulders relax.

"This is crazy." She says, breathless.

"Maybe." He shrugs. "But look-- I thought I wasn't ever going to get back here. And I don't know what's going to happen next. But after the last two years... I'd like to figure it out. With you. If you'll have me."

Her eyes well up with tears, and he frowns, thinking he's gone too far, but then she's leaning forward, pressing her lips against his lightly, and everything goes click inside his heart.

He's right where he's meant to be.