#I’m writing my edward story and I’m dying

[stabby-apologist]

“I love you today, I’ll love you more tomorrow. And when you feel the least deserving of it, that’s when I will love you the most.”

[snowyslytherinowl]

Perfect Prefect - Part 1

PAIRING: George Weasley x Reader or George Weasley x OC

SUMMARY: You’re Miss Moore of Ravenclaw, a sixth-year prefect and one of the house’s best and brightest. You don’t know who to go to the Yule Ball with, but luckily for you, George has secretly had a crush on you for a while and charms you into being his date. But there’s one slight problem that’s holding you back from sharing the news of your budding romance: your best friend and Fred Weasley are far from friends.

This work can be read either as George Weasley x OC or a reader-insert since the main character’s physical characteristics and first name remain ambiguous. I usually only publish the first part of a work when I finish the entire story or have most of it worked out, but I’m tired of having this sit in my WIP folder (and maybe it’ll motivate me to stop playing Supermarket Simulator and start writing LMAO). I’m not entirely sure when the second part will be released since I’m kinda struggling with it; nonetheless, I hope you enjoy!

Part 2 here

*GIF isn't mine; credit to @jamilelucato

We all hold our breaths as the door creaks open and Sinclair even dips her head under the water. If it’s a boy opening the door, we’d most likely scream. If it’s Professor McGonagall, it’s guaranteed we’d be reprimanded for allowing Edwards into the Prefects’ Bathroom since she technically isn’t allowed in here. 

Pritchard and Lloyd emerge from the other side of the door and we all let out a breath. Sinclair pops up from underneath the water and she sighs. “We thought you two weren’t joining us today!” 

“Sorry we’re late! Professor Sprout held us back to tell her two favorite Hufflepuffs a little secret,” Lloyd says slyly. Pritchard stands behind her, making a poor attempt to suppress a smile. 

“Wait, what are you talking about?” I ask them. Professor Sprout frequently tells Lloyd and Pritchard information that only the staff are supposed to know and swears them to secrecy. Of course, their seal of secrecy doesn’t extend to us. 

“Whenever the Triwizard Tournament takes place, the school that hosts the event also hosts the Yule Ball! It’s a dance that takes place during Christmas!” Pritchard squeals. 

When the two of them join us in the bath, they divulge everything they know about the Yule Ball. Hogwarts hasn’t hosted a Yule Ball for over a century, so we’re all dying to know what the Great Hall will look like, who will be performing, and which teachers will get on the dance floor. Even Sinclair has to laugh when we imagine Professors Snape and McGonagall dancing together. Our conversation then steers to who we want to go to the ball with.

“When the Yule Ball is publicly announced, I think I’m going to ask Matthew.” Ainsworth’s cheeks blush as she says his name and it becomes my turn to smile. She’s fancied him since the beginning of the year when they partnered up in Transfiguration. She mentions him at least once during our daily debriefings in the Prefects’ Bathroom. 

“Now that is the true embodiment of the Gryffindor spirit. I second that.” Sinclair nods in approval and also grins when she notices Ainsworth blushing. 

Ainsworth smirks and swims over to sit next to Sinclair. Sinclair awkwardly scoots over as Ainsworth nudges her and rests her head on her shoulder. “Are you telling us that you also plan to ask a boy?” she asks with a sing-song voice.

“No. I meant that if you like a boy, you should ask him out. What’s the point of sitting around and waiting for a boy to make the first move when a girl is just as capable of taking the initiative?” Sinclair says with conviction.

“So does that mean you’ll take the initiative to ask Fred yourself?” Ainsworth asks with a poke to Sinclair’s shoulder. She typically gives murderous looks when someone displeases her, but this look to Ainsworth would rip her to shreds and feed her soul to the dementors. She snatches her towel and stomps out of the bath. 

“Don’t joke about that! There is no one low enough for that empty-minded, snarky tosser! All of us deserve someone better than him!” Sinclair wraps her towel around her body and heads to one of the bathroom stalls to change out of her bathing suit, ignoring the laughter that follows her. She has a vendetta against Fred Weasley, and just Fred. He bothers her in every class they have together and pairs up with her just to get on her nerves. Since she became a prefect, Fred has plotted endless pranks against her and always escapes from the scene of the crime before she can report him. Every day, we have to hear her rage about him or her plans to best him. 

Ainsworth turns to the rest of us and blows bubbles into the air. “So, Moore, who do you have in mind?”

Everyone turns to look at me and I shrug in response. “I don’t know.” That’s the truth. I don’t have a boyfriend or a crush. I’ve been too caught up in my prefect duties and my classes to even think about romance. 

“There really is no one you fancy?” Edwards asks, giving me a suspicious look. “I don’t believe that.”

“Look, the selection here isn’t prime.” There’s a long list of abominable boys that I can think of: Zacharias Smith since all he does is complain, Oscar May because he only talks about himself, and at least a dozen Slytherins with pure-blood ideals. “Even a lot of the cute ones act like they’re still first-years.”

“Spot on, Moore,” Sinclair comments as she emerges from the stall. She’s fully changed, but her wet hair walls around her face. She folds her towel and throws her bag around her shoulders. 

“Where are you going?” Ainsworth asks, shocked. “We’ve still got a quarter of an hour left!”

“Professor Snape wants to talk to me about something and I will not be late,” Sinclair says with a sigh. She points at Ainsworth before leaving the room. “Don’t forget that we have prefect duties tonight!”

Edwards and Pritchard spend the rest of our daily debriefing talking about guys they think are attractive. After I change and dry my hair, I head to the library to finish Flitwick’s essay on the limitations of portkeys. Sentence after sentence is written and page after page is flipped and I’m so caught up in my essay that I don’t notice that someone joins me at the end of the table. 

A pop and a slam bring me back to the library. I look over to see one of the Weasley twins pressing something down on the table with the palm of his hand. Whatever he’s holding down is wiggling furiously and desperately attempting to escape. Since nothing explodes or disfigures his face, I return to reading and try not to get distracted. 

Not a minute goes by when the sound of hopping and a scraping chair rips my attention from my work yet again. I almost jump out of my seat when I see a miniature frog jumping to the ceiling and landing on the table. Although it doesn’t move forward significantly each time it jumps and lands, it progressively inches closer to me. The last thing I want is for my work to be destroyed, so I cast a charm that knocks it back down to the table and disables its movement. 

Weasley approaches me and I hold out my hand so he can retrieve his frog. “Sorry about that,” he apologizes with a nervous laugh. 

“It’s fine. Are you trying to sell these?” Ainsworth has told us about Fred and George’s plans for a prank shop. I always see them huddled together in the hallways, probably developing devious new products. 

“Yeah. You see, I had this brilliant idea all worked out, but it hasn’t been going as I planned. Tap the frog with your wand and boom! It hops all around and chaos ensues! But no, they jump too high and get squashed by the ceiling.” 

“Can I take a look at it?” He nods and I turn the tiny frog in my hands. They look so realistic that I almost didn’t notice that they’re painted frogs that croak “ribbit.” “What charms are you using for this?”

“A Jumping Jinx.” When I shake my head, he asks, “What’s wrong?”

I summon a book off a nearby shelf about locomotion charms, from flying and gliding to running and twirling. After turning to the page about the Jumping Jinx, I beckon Weasley over. He sits in the chair next to me and leans towards me so we both can see the opened page. I gulp before reciting an excerpt, “‘The Jumping Jinx is a clever way to curse those you want to imbue with frog-like qualities. Beware of using this jinx on inanimate objects, however, since it can cause the object to hop around erratically and turn laughter into screams.’ Quite dramatic, but there you go.” 

Weasley turns to me and grins. I blush and look back down at the book. “I had no idea. So what do you suggest?” 

I check the index for the sections on inanimate objects and turn to page 179. “The sounds coming from your frog sound fine, so do whatever you’re already doing. These two, that’s what you should use for the jumping.” I point at the 360 Charm and the Height Hex. “Do you have a spare frog you haven’t charmed yet?” 

Weasley digs through his pocket to find one and places it on the table. “Watch what I do. You’ll charm the frog to make sounds later since I’d rather not get us kicked out,” I say. He scooches his seat even closer to me and focuses attentively on my hands. I take a deep breath to calm myself before beginning. 

I tap the frog with my wand twice and utter “progressio height.” “This will only jump to one foot. Every time you tap it with your wand, it will jump one foot higher until it reaches ten feet. Then it’ll reset back to one foot. Just put that in the instructions and any kid can change the height.” Then, I swish my wand in a figure-eight motion. “The 360 Charm will make the frog change directions randomly so it’ll give Filch a hard time getting his hands on one.” 

Both of us laugh and Weasley proclaims, “You’re bloody brilliant! I’d definitely hire you for my shop if we even had a place to set up shop.” 

I blush at his compliment. “You’re one of the Weasley twins, aren’t you?”

“George. The better looking one, that is.” I giggle and internally breathe a sigh of relief. Although Sinclair thinks that George is pesky, she ignores him for the most part. All her hatred is directed at his twin, and I’d rather not deal with the drama of fraternizing with Fred. “Moore, isn’t it? A Ravenclaw with both brains and beauty.”

I blush an even deeper crimson and bite my lower lip as I nod. George stuffs his frogs in his pocket and stands to leave the library. “I’ve got to go. I’ll see you around.”

“Bye.” I wave at him and my eyes follow his back as he leaves the library. 

XXX

Over the next few days, two of my friends find dates. We were all in the courtyard when Pritchard was asked by a Durmstrang boy, who bowed to her twice and kissed her hand! We weren’t there to see Ainsworth ask Matthew since she cornered him outside the greenhouse to pop the question. Though whenever I pass by the two of them cuddling up, I’m unable to hide my grin.  

I sat at the same table in the library after dinner for two days in a row, eagerly waiting for George. I felt silly for shooting my head up whenever someone walked nearby, and even more the fool for when he didn’t show up. Now on the third day, when I mistook another ginger boy for George, I internally chide myself for thinking he was being anything more than friendly. 

“Hey, you think you can lend a hand on some constipation magic?”

I look up from my numerical charts to see no one other than George Weasley smiling and holding a jar full of chewy candies. I laugh at his question and reply, “Not too much, honestly.”

“That’s fine. I’m here to talk to you, anyway.” He doesn’t give me much time to think about what he said since he sits directly next to me again and unscrews the lid of the jar. “These are meant to give you a case of constipation. Instead, they’re making you diarrhea your trousers in the middle of the corridors.”

“I’ll make sure not to eat one.” I squeeze a candy between my fingers, which oozes a gooey filling and sticks to my thumb and pointer fingers. “I don’t know, you should make the outer coating hard? I can’t believe I’m even saying this, but maybe if the candy is hard then your poo will be hard?”

“How about that?” We comb through books on potions for bodily fluids and I learn more about those potions than I ever wanted to know. Dozens of pages cover graphic ways to clear boils, and an entire section is devoted to making snot gush out of a nose like a raging waterfall. Gross. Eventually, George finds a page on potions for solid and liquid bodily fluids. 

“You were right!” he exclaims and pushes the book toward me. It’s some law about making potions for food that will either help or hurt your bowel movement.  

I encouragingly smile at him, but still say, “You should’ve looked for this yourself. I can’t believe you convinced me to read about all these gross potions.”

He wiggles his eyebrows at me and slicks back his hair, just like those cheesy characters on Muggle television shows.  “What can I say? I’m irresistible.” 

The library is about to close, so we head out before Madam Pince kicks us out. George offers to walk me to Ravenclaw Tower and along the way, we brainstorm ideas for sweets that are magically compatible with U-No-Poo. Popular sweets sold at Honeydukes also give us an idea of marketable candies, so we agree that chocolate with a hard outer shell will sell the best. 

When we reach the top of the spiral staircase, George asks me, “Aren’t you going to say your password? Or would you rather stick around for some extra quality time with me?”

Smiling shyly, I explain, “You have to answer a riddle to get in.” 

I knock the bronze knocker, which asks, “I never leave your body, but I’m easily lost and given away. What am I?”

I curse the knocker, who likely proposed this riddle since George is standing next to me. I lean in and whisper “heart” so only the knocker can hear it. The door swings open.

“What was the answer?” George asks, looking quite cute with his brows furrowed and a jar held against his chest. 

I push the thought aside and say, “Don’t worry. I’ll see you tomorrow?”

George smiles. “You bet.”

XXX

Throughout the next week, George and I meet either at the library or the Black Lake. Most of the time, we discuss ideas he and Fred have for the joke shop; other times, we speak about our other hobbies, friends, and funny stories. He tells me the stories that Fred told him about Sinclair and each time, there are always little details that don’t line up with the stories I’ve heard.

December weather is freezing, so a warmth charm helps when I’m sitting under a beech tree near the Black Lake. As I wait for George, I take a piece of dark blue fabric out of my bag and use my wand to sprinkle on twinkling stars and colorful rotating planets. Thin lines connecting the stars form constellations across the fabric, resembling the paintings of the night sky in my grandmum’s house. 

Someone shouts my first name and I look up to see George waving at me from afar. Resting the fabric on my lap, I wave back and pat the ground next to me. He plops down so close to me that our shoulders nearly touch. 

“You made that? It’s gorgeous!” George runs a hand through the fabric and traces his finger over the constellations. 

“Thanks,” I reply, blushing. Even after spending almost every day with him, I still blush around him, especially since he doesn’t seem to believe in personal space. 

“Do you have more with you?” 

I pull out three more sheets of fabric, all different designs. The one on top shows Hogwarts Castle on a sunny day with puffy clouds lazily floating past. George smiles at the fabric showing my red Scottish Fold, Peanut, napping on our favorite couch in the Ravenclaw Common Room. But George’s favorite fabric is one of Rubik’s Cube repeatedly solving and shuffling itself on a plain white background. 

“What is that thing?” George wonders, staring at the little cube in awe. 

I laugh at his amazement and tell him that it’s a Muggle Rubik’s Cube. My family owns at least four. My cousin and I used to compete over which one of us could solve it faster and it was always me, but I’m pretty sure that’s because he let me win. 

“I can imagine the look on my dad’s face if he got his hands on one of those,” George remarks and hands the fabrics back to me. 

George has told me about his father’s love for everything Muggle and I can’t help but smile at how cute that is. It reminds me of George’s fascination with jokes and pranks. “I’ll show him one if I meet him.”

“Why didn’t you tell me about these before? The fabrics.”

I shrug and watch a group of first-year Ravenclaws making a snowman right at the edge of the lake. “I don’t know. It’s just something I do in the meantime. The girls do it too. Sinclair makes jewelry, Ainsworth paints, Edwards makes bags, and I sew designs on random pieces of fabric. Sometimes I add designs to Edwards’s bags. And if I have enough fabrics that all match a theme, I make a quilt.”

George huffs a laugh and I raise my eyebrows at him. “You lot are quite peculiar. I don’t get it. Why do you call each other by your last names?”

“Sinclair thought that calling each other by our last names was more ‘business-like’ and ‘appropriate for talented students worthy of future greatness.’” We both chuckle before I continue, “I think that’s only half the reason. Pritchard hates her first name, so she prefers to be called by her last name anyway. Sinclair didn’t want her to feel singled out.”

“She seems to be the ringleader of your bunch.”

“Definitely, but only because she’s so protective of us.” I nod at George’s bag and poke a hand inside the smaller pouch. “Enough about me. What are we working on today? Something to make your skin turn orange?”

“Do I need an excuse to talk to my favorite girl?” He moves impossibly closer to me and our faces are so close that my mind jumps to him kissing me. Honestly, I wouldn’t mind if he did. “You’re always helping me. Last night, it occurred to me I never do anything for you.”

“I’m not here because I expect anything in return,” I answer honestly. 

“You should’ve been sorted into Hufflepuff because of how kind you are.” George nudges me on my shoulder and I look down and bite my lower lip. “But I was thinking we could make a deal.”

A deal? Is he proposing that I get a cut for perfecting his products if his dream of opening a joke shop comes true? “Like what?”

“You continue to work on the joke products with me and in return, Fred and I don’t play pranks in front of you or your prefect friends. That way, there’s no need to report us. Seriously, why would a prefect participate in this pranking business?”

“Send me to Azkaban for liking problem-solving.” I playfully smack George’s arm and he rubs his hands in faux pain. “That’s hardly a deal, anyway.”

“Fine, you’ve got a point. How about this? Fred and I don’t play pranks in front of you and your friends, even Sinclair. For added benefit, the two of us go to the Yule Ball together. I’d say it’s a mutually beneficial transaction.” A hopeful sparkle appears in George’s eye. In the corner of my vision, I see George’s hands gripping his knees in nervousness. 

Before I can give him more time to feel anxious, I kiss George’s cheek and reply, “I’d love to go to the ball with you.”

George beams at me and my face mirrors his smile. “Fantastic! Now how about we head back inside? It’s getting chilly out here.” His body heat has been providing some warmth, but a slight breeze has me sticking my hands in the pockets of my coat. 

“Sure.” George stands first and offers a hand to help me up. Instead of letting go after I balance myself, I lean into him and hold his hand as we walk back to the warmth of Hogwarts Castle. 

XXX

Cold air fills the corridors of Hogwarts, forcing me to rub my hands together and cast a warmth charm. I press the tip of my wand onto my stiff fingers, finally regaining feeling in them. 

“Are you all right?” Sinclair asks. She grabs my hand and squeezes it, feeling how my hand is only beginning to warm. 

“Yeah, don’t worry. I just wish we didn’t have rounds tonight. It’s freezing,” I say. Ainsworth, Sinclair, Pritchard, and I prefer to complete our rounds together. Sticking together prevents us from getting bored, all while providing extra protection in case anything dangerous is lurking in these halls. With Harry Potter inside these castle walls, something may pop out and try to eat us. 

“If you say so. We can always stop by the kitchens and sit by the fire.” We turn the corner and hear water drop onto the stone floor. 

I don’t want her to worry about me, so I change the topic. “Are you excited for the Yule Ball?”

“I suppose. It’s something different than being home for Christmas,” she replies. After a moment’s pause, she turns to me. “Is this about Yule Ball dates?”

“Maybe.” Something moves at the end of the corridor, but I relax when I realize it’s only a mouse.

“Wait, don’t tell me you already have a date?” she asks and smirks at me. 

“No, not yet,” I lie. “I do have someone in mind, though, and I want your opinion.” I wouldn’t ditch George even if Sinclair attempts to dissuade me from going with him. On the other hand, I want to at least gauge her true opinion of him and avoid a future fight. 

“Listen, I know that you’ll ask me if I approve of him. However, I don’t want you to feel tense over or think that I’ll get upset by your choice of men. I won’t stop you from going with him regardless of whether I like him or not. That’s only as long you aren’t going with Fred Weasley, of course.”

“Ok, so what if I told you I’m interested in someone like him?” 

Sinclair furrows her brow and chews on the inside of her mouth. “What do you mean? Like McLaggen, Smith, or Malfoy? Aren’t the latter two too young for you?” 

Why does she associate McLaggen, Smith, and Malfoy with Fred? “Um, no.”

“Then who do you mean?” Sinclair asks, her features mirroring an even deeper sense of confusion. 

“Honestly, it’s-” 

I’m cut off by the Head Boy, who waves at the two of us. His voice booms from the foot of the stairs as he calls, “Hey, Sinclair! Come down here! Crehan threw up his dinner.” 

“Coming!” Sinclair shouts back. She turns to me and says, “Let’s discuss boy business tomorrow, okay?” Before I can reply, she runs down the stairs and starts walking with the Head Boy.

XXX

“I hate working in groups of four,” Sinclair sighs as the Charms class divides itself into quartets. Our friends at the next table naturally pair together, leaving the two of us with the awkward task of finding two other partners. 

I clutch the textbook to my chest as Sinclair and I walk around the classroom, asking people to work with us. Unfortunately for us, everyone already has partners in mind. Sinclair stands on her tippy-toes, attempting to look through the hubbub of the moving classroom. Her efforts aren’t necessary, though, because Fred and George stand taller than anyone else in the class and they conveniently look partnerless as well. George waves me over when we lock eyes, so I turn to Sinclair to say, “Come on, I found us partners.”

“Are you kidding me?” she groans when she sees who I’m dragging her to. “Is there no one else to work with?”

“Not unless you want to work with your slimy housemates. Warrington and Pucey are also partnerless.”

Sinclair completely ignores Fred when we reach the twins’ corner of the room and looks only at George. “Good morning, Weasley. How are you? I’m glad we could find one competent partner.” 

“And who am I?” Fred scoffs at her. He rolls his eyes and sits at the nearby table to avoid standing next to her for too long.

Sinclair slides into the seat across from him before setting a scrutinizing gaze at him and replying, “Gum on the bottom of my shoes.” She will only make eye contact with him if he’s sitting down since she refuses to “look up to him.” 

“They’re insufferable,” George leans down to whisper into my ear. I smack him on the shoulder as I sit next to Sinclair. 

“Come on, try your hardest to keep up with me,” Fred teases her and opens up his textbook. Sinclair glares at him and mutters “as if” under her breath.

George glances at his brother and Sinclair, who are now debating who will complete the assignment the fastest. George leans across the table to tell me, “I’ve been waiting to work with you for the longest time.”

“Really? How long?” 

He scrunches his face as he pauses to think for a moment. “I’d say at least two months.”

I blush and look at the board to the side of him. Rowena, if I keep this up, I’ll be known as Blush. The textbook page for the Anti-Alohamora Charm is written on the board, so I flip to it with the flick of my wand. “Then why didn’t you start talking to me two months ago? You act like you never get a bout of shyness.”

“Around pretty girls like you I do,” he replies and winks. He cranes his head to look at the board behind him and returns with another one of his smiles. “I bet you already know this one.”

“Yup. Now let’s get started as these two have another row. I’m sure the two of us can manage it on our own.” I stand up to grab a set of four locks for each group member, but Sinclair and Fred are too busy arguing to notice that I’ve placed locks in the center of the table. 

George grabs the blue lock and turns to me expectantly. “Show me how it’s done, beautiful.” He doesn’t pay a lick of attention to what I’m doing to my lock; instead, he’s staring at me with a goofy grin. My cheeks burn as I remember that his brother and my best friend are sitting right next to us.  

I cast the final spell to ensure that the lock doesn’t open with physical force. I then use my hand to turn George’s head to gaze at the table. “Step one: pay attention to the lock,” I joke, and an adorable pink hue colors his cheeks. 

“Step two: place the hand that isn’t your wand hand over the lock. That’ll make sure that the lock recognizes your touch when you attempt to open it.” George ignores my directions again, so I put my hand over his and lead us both to the blue lock. “Now you’re just being cheeky.”

He leans across the table and whispers in my ear, “I do prefer learning spells with a hands-on approach.” His breath tickles my ear, so I pull back with a shiver and a laugh. 

“That’s convenient considering today’s assignment. As you complete this spell, you have to focus and will for it to work.” I stand behind him and press my chest to his back. My breath hitches as I take his wand hand and trace the movements he’s supposed to make with my hand. “Now, swish your wand in a figure-eight motion twice, then swish it clockwise. Each time, say ‘contra alohomora.’”

I let go of George so he can attempt the spell on his own. His hand movements are precise and finally, the firm click of the lock is heard. “Alohomora,” I say while pointing at the blue lock with my wand, but it doesn’t open. “You did fantastic!”

“What can I say? Clearly, I’m quite talented.” He flashes me a cheeky grin.

“You really are, George.” I cup his cheek with my hand and return his smile. Rowena, I’m so excited to be his date for the Yule Ball. 

“Before you distract me again, there is one more thing I should teach you. Only you can open the lock by touching it or casting ‘alohomora,’ but you can allow other people to open it too. You just have to place their hand on the lock and say ‘amicos alohomora.’”

George intertwines his fingers with mine and moves my hand to the blue lock. “Let’s give it a shot with you.”

I pry my fingers from his. “Actually, it has to be someone else since I’m the one testing your spells.”

“Alrighty then.” George turns to Fred and Sinclair, who have been going at it this entire time. Fred is mocking her for something that happened in Defence Against the Dark Arts, which riles her up since her marks are her greatest pride. Fred doesn’t seem to care or notice that George presses his hand to the blue lock and grants him permission to open the lock. 

Professor Flitwick stops by our table and inspects George’s blue lock and my purple lock. “Wonderful job you two! Ten points each to Gryffindor and Ravenclaw.” His eyes then wander over to Fred and Sinclair and he points at their locks. “Have you two been participating in the work your partners have completed? Ah, Miss Sinclair, excellent work on the Anti-Alohamora Charm. Next time, Mister Weasley, please assist your partners and pay more attention to the task at hand.”

Satisfaction is written all over Sinclair’s face as Professor Flitwick stops at the next table. “You should seriously consider listening to Professor Flitwick’s advice.”

“Please! You were distracting me!” Fred retorts. “How did you manage to pull off the spell in the middle of our row?” 

“Back at it again, I see,” I remark to George. 

George rolls his eyes. “It’ll be like this until we graduate. I just hope they don’t have a row during the ball.”

“And if they do, I won’t get involved. Rowena knows how passionate Sinclair can get.” Last year, Fred set up an intricate trap that dumped brown goo under the passerby, which just so happened to activate only if Sinclair walked under it. I had to hold her by her robes to prevent her from sprinting away and jinxing the life out of Fred.

“Can’t blame her half the time with the pranks my brother gets up to. I’d also try to chop off his head if I was her.” George laughs and shakes his head. He crouches down and begins to doodle something in his textbook. When I bend forward to see what he’s drawing, he pulls his textbook closer to him and wags his finger. “No peeking, now. Don’t spoil the surprise for yourself.”

“I bet you’re either drawing me or Peanut,” I joke.

George throws his head back and groans. “How do you manage to always be one step ahead of me?” 

“Clearly, I’m quite talented,” I tease, echoing the same thing he said minutes before. 

He scribbles his quill, scrunches his brow, and then presents the sketch of Peanut to me. I laugh as I trace a hand over Peanut’s exaggerated long whiskers and chunky red body. “She looks goofy and fat, but adorable as ever.”

“No need to call her hefty, now. Let the cat enjoy her treats in peace,” George teases. Every time Peanut sees George, she jumps onto his lap and rubs herself all over him. She likes him so much that she gives him a dirty cat glare if he even stands up to go to the lavatory. 

I’m laughing at his joke when I realize that Sinclair is silent and gawking at George and me. Once she notices me looking, she tilts her head in George’s direction. No words need to be spoken for me to understand what she’s trying to ask. 

Fred sighs and slaps his green lock. He looks up from his textbook and then at Sinclair. But when he notices the expression on her face, he smirks and looks over at George and me. “What secret have I been left out of? Care to tell me something, Georgie?”

“Freddie, may I proudly present my Yule Ball date? This is Miss Moore of Ravenclaw,” George proclaims and waves his hands with great pomp and circumstance. 

I bury my face in my hands, embarrassed by George’s comments. Fred extends a hand for me to shake as though we haven’t known each other for years. Regardless, I take his hand and shake it. Fred smiles at me and then slaps George’s arm. “I knew you’d find a pretty date, Georgie.”

Sinclair watches the exchange in silence, her face neutral other than raised eyebrows. But even if she tries to keep a poker face, I know her head is probably spinning at the new revelation. 

Rowena, I do not look forward to whatever she has to say once class ends.

[adhdnursegoat]

I'm genuinely curious what folks will think of this. I was very unsure when writing it. My eyes started to cross everytime I edited this, so I hope it is okay. If you find any inconsistencies, then please, help a southern gal, and let me know. I hope you have fun.

As always link to full story on ao3 at the bottom.

When you were little, momma said that when a boy tugs on a little girl’s pigtails and pokes at her, it usually means he likes her. It means that he does not have the words to say what he really means, that he likes you – that he has a crush on you – that he thinks you are pretty.

You also remember that was the first time you said something “bad” in front of your momma.

Oh, what did I say…?

“Why doesn’t he grow a pair and just tell her?”

You member your mother dying laughing, not even bothering to chide your young, sharp mind. Instead, she covered her smile with a hand, trying to hide the majority of her amusement as she looked at you with wide, almost incredulous eyes.

“Well, I suppose you’re right, babygirl…” She pinched your cheek and crinkled her nose up at you. “Don’t ever let a man treat you any less than a queen.”

“Nygma!”

And you will never forget that.

Your voice screeches through the office door before it even slams open, the door handle nearly puncturing the wall behind it. In the doorway, you stand, body tense, feet spread, ready to pounce, and a bouquet of flowers clutched tightly in a fist. Feet stomping, you march through the room and slap the lavender down on the desk. Through reddened, watery eyes, you glare at the man leaning back too casually in his chair, his smug face clear despite your blurred vision.

“What’s up?” His voice is rich with blatant feigned innocence, a lopsided grin pulling at the corners of his mouth. Edward Nygma always exudes that irritating air of superiority.

“You know damn well ‘what’s up!’” you snap, your voice shaking with anger. You gesture forcefully to the flowers. “The fuck is this?”

He doesn’t even flinch, his emerald-green eyes glinting with mischief as they drift lazily toward the purple plant. “It is lavender. A symbol of purity, grace, and calm.” He steeples his fingers, his lips quirking into a poorly contained smirk. “Ironic choice, don’t you think?”

The smirk. That damned smirk.

Heat floods your cheeks, your fists clenching tightly at your sides. It’s always like this with him—his verbal jabs, his riddles, his constant need to prove that he’s the smartest person in the room. Smarter than everyone. Smarter than you.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” The words burst out before you can stop them, your voice shaking with the force of your frustration.

But Edward doesn’t bat an eye. He leans back further in his chair, completely at ease, watching you unravel like you’re just another amusing puzzle. “So many things, my dear,” he purrs, “but I’m afraid we’d need a few hours to properly list and analyze them all.”

You want to scream, but instead, your rage is made into a joke as you tear a tissue from the box beside his computer, yanking it hard enough that the whole thing tumbles to the floor. Your movements are jerky and ungraceful as you scramble to pick up the tissues, slamming the box back onto the desk. It is all so ridiculous, but you don’t care. The tightness in your throat is unbearable, and your eyes are itching so badly that you can barely see straight.

As you blow your nose into the tissue, the sound is anything but elegant. Loud, obnoxious, a far cry from the calm and composed image you wish you could maintain around him. And then—of course—comes the sneezing. Violent, explosive sneezes that echo through the office like shouted expletives. One after the other, they wrack your body, and you can barely keep yourself upright.

When you think you’ve finally reached the end of this absurd display, you groan and pinch the bridge of your nose, trying to regain some semblance of composure. The pain behind your eyes throbs like a drumbeat, and you cut your gaze to Edward, who is, predictably, grinning at you like the smug bastard he is. His posture is relaxed, his head tilted ever so slightly as he watches your torment with undisguised glee.

“I thought you would’ve liked my gift, babe,” he drawls, his voice low and syrupy with false sweetness.

You can feel your blood pressure rising, the anger surging so violently that it feels like you might have an aneurysm. The pain in your head throbs in time with your growing irritation, and the audacity of his words is almost too much to bear.

“You know I’m allergic to lavender!” Your voice is hoarse and squeaky from the mucous clogging your throat, and you punctuate the statement with another round of sneezes, barely managing to stuff your nose into the tissue in time. You groan before growling low at him, “Why would you do this today of all days? You know the gala is tonight!”

Edward watches, unbothered, that insufferable grin still plastered on his face. There is not a single flicker of remorse in his eyes. He’s enjoying this—your discomfort, your rage, your attention. And why wouldn’t he? This is his game. Everything with Edward is a game.

With your free hand, you shove a finger in his direction, your words muffled and nasal as you shout, “You’re an asshole!”

That is when he finally laughs. It’s low and soft at first, but then it grows, filling the room with that rich, mocking sound. He’s practically doubling over, wiping an imaginary tear from his eye as he regards you with mock hurt and pity. “You wound me. Really. I’m simply trying to make your life more… interesting?”

You glare at him, another sneeze escaping before you can respond. The tissues are doing little to save you from the lavender-induced hell you’ve been thrown into, but you refuse to let him see you break. Not completely.

“Interesting?” you croak, still sniffling. “You tried to kill me with flowers!”

“Kill you? Oh, don’t be dramatic.” His laughter subsides into a smirk, and he leans back in his chair, hands behind his head. “Babe, if I wanted you dead, I assure you, I’d be far more creative than a bouquet of lavender.” His voice drops lower, dripping with playful menace. “This is merely foreplay.”

Your face flushes hotter, but this time, it’s not from the allergic reaction. You know he is pushing buttons on purpose, prodding at you just to see how far he can take things before you snap. It’s all part of his game, the endless mental tug-of-war he thrives on.

And despite yourself, despite the sneezing, the watery eyes, and the frustration burning in your chest—you feel the pull. That magnetic, infuriating pull that keeps you locked in this back-and-forth with him. It’s infuriating, maddening.

“Besides,” he drawls, his voice thick with amusement, those puckish green eyes narrowing with mischievous intent, “you’re hot when you’re mad.”

This.

This right here. This is the exact shit you’re talking about. His smugness, his unrelenting need to take something as simple and sweet as buying flowers, something flirtatious like calling you hot, and perverting it into a means to torment you. Instead of being genuine in his attraction, he turns it into a mind game while he watches you squirm.

Why can’t he just be normal?

If it weren’t for this bullshit, you would absolutely date him. He’s got a great job, a little power, and, honestly, he’s cute in that boyish way that makes you bite your lip. And intelligent—fuck, do you love a man with a big brain. The kind of intelligence that can both outwit and excite you, leaving you breathless in more ways than one.

But those toxic green eyes of his—they should be a warning. A signal. Everything you need to know about him wrapped up in one sharp, venomous look. Yet you can’t seem to look away. You struggle to maintain the appropriate amount of eye contact to hide your obvious staring, to keep the desire from slipping through your façade.

“Can’t you just buy me flowers and ask me on a date like a normal fucking human?” you grumble thickly, the words muffled by the remnants of your sneezing fit. It’s more of a plea than an actual complaint.

Edward tilts his head, and you watch as that thick red hair of his shifts with the motion. His lips purse thoughtfully, and he crinkles his nose as if he’s truly trying to wrap his mind around your sentiment. As if this simple idea—normalcy—is something foreign to him. “Where’s the fun in that?”

His tone is deceptively innocent, but the glint in his eyes says otherwise. There’s no innocence here. Only the gleeful manipulation he’s mastered so well. And somehow, that cocky confidence only makes you want him more. As much as it pisses you off, it ignites something in you. It always does.

 “You’re the fucking worst, Nygma.” You dig a card from the offending flowers – the note scrawled saying “what’s the most romantic fruit” – and flick it at his chest. He doesn’t even flinch. “I wouldn’t date you if you were the last man on Earth.”

“Well, I don’t have to take you out on a date. I’m just being polite.” His eyes trail down your form, lingering appreciatively on your breasts before tracing your hips. You clear your throat, both for his attention and the mucous collected in the back of your mouth. He flicks his eyes back to yours and he shrugs. “I can just eat you out right now if you like.”

Edward’s voice is smooth, unbothered, like he’s making the most casual offer in the world. Your stomach flips—whether it’s from anger or something else, you’re not sure. Your blood feels like it’s boiling beneath your skin, heart pounding in your chest. Edward’s insufferable grin makes your stomach flip in the worst—and best—way. You can’t believe the balls on this man, the sheer gall of him. You feel your mouth open to respond, to unleash the torrent of words building in your chest, but they falter as you meet his gaze. That damn smirk. That cocky, self-assured smirk that says he knows exactly how to get under your skin. He’s not even trying to hide it. He just lounges, looking so casual, so damn cocky, like he knows he’s already won. Your fists clench at your sides, nails digging into your palms. The worst part is, he’s right. He knows he’s won this round, just like he always does.

Edward Nygma always has the upper hand, and it drives you insane.

“I’m leaving,” you say, your voice trembling with barely contained fury. You push yourself away from his desk, needing to put distance between the two of you before you do something you’ll regret. Your hands are shaking, but you refuse to let him see how deeply he’s gotten to you.

“What storms out angry but will always come back?”

The words stop you dead in your tracks, heat flushing your skin.

You.

He means you. And you know it. The fact that he’s right only makes the frustration burn hotter in your chest, makes it even worse because—of course—he’s grinning behind you, so damn sure of himself, knowing full well his words will haunt you for the rest of the day.

What the hell is wrong with me?

You shove the door open hard, letting it slam behind you, the satisfying thud doing little to calm your racing pulse. But out in the hallway, your thoughts are a chaotic mess. Edward is insufferable, and yet he has this uncanny way of slipping into your day—your life—whether you like it or not. You don’t even work in the same department! Yet, here you are.

And, somehow, he is always there.

Click here for full length work: Power Play

Original pinterest picture credit: summer howard

[star-dot-net]

i haven’t actually seen the episode in full yet but uh. something i’ve observed I suppose?

Izzy Hands. He dies yes? Yes. It makes sense narratively. I can understand being upset, but I’m telling you!! Izzy was the last attachment Ed had to being Blackbeard; the last reminder that he was this bloodthirsty pirate, the last reminder that he was unhappy. Izzy Hands was never a character for the sake of a character; he was written as a plot device, and will continue to be one if we get a season 3, I’m sure.

Just because you love him doesn’t mean him dying is illogical. It makes sense. It is Blackbeard finally being dead. It is Edward Teach finally being free. Izzy was queer, Izzy was depressed, Izzy was tortured. We saw this coming. Some people are saying “We thought DJenks would be better than this!!” but this is storytelling. Thinking about Izzy as a plot device rather than a separate character shows a lot more— he is used as a direct analogy. He represents Blackbeard. The death of Blackbeard was long time coming. Blackbeard wanted to die; Ed wanted to live. Izzy singing and becoming comfortable as himself is literally an analogy for Ed becoming comfortable as Ed.

That out of the way, here’s my thoughts about the seagull on Izzy’s grave.

One idea is that the seagull is Buttons. He is a symbol of magic this season, obviously. So, in theory, because magic is real, we could be getting Izzy back via Buttons magic.

My other theory is that Buttons being on Izzy’s grave is a reference to “to love […] requires change”

In order to love Stede the way Stede needs to be loved, Ed needed to change; Blackbeard needed to die. If this is the case, then Izzy was the remaining part holding Ed back from changing.

Anyways sorry about this but it’s so frustrating having people complaining about this. Being upset is fine, but the show writing itself is absolutely magnificent. Bury your gays does not apply to this situation because these are the “bury your gays” definitions:

Gay Guy Dies First: When the often only queer character dies early on, before straight characters.

Gayngst-Induced Suicide: When an LGBT+ character commits or attempts to commit suicide because of reasons connected to or caused by being LGBT.

Homophobic Hate Crime: When a character is attacked and often murdered by homophobic characters.

Out of the Closet, Into the Fire: After a character comes out they are quickly killed, harmed, or cosmically punished.

Tragic AIDS Story: The story involves the miseries of HIV/AIDS, often starring gay men, sometimes treated like a punishment for homosexuality.

Vasquez Always Dies: The most lesbian-coded character, or the closest thing the work has to a butch character, always seems to get killed off, or has the most violent and drawn-out death.

The closest possible one, if this were bury your gays, would be “Out of the Closet, Into the Fire”. HOWEVER!!!!!! Izzy is not killed because he’s queer. He’s not killed “after he comes out”. Plus, literally every main character in the show is queer. Every single one. I do not believe this is a bury your gays. I believe this is a purposefully heartbreaking kill; you’re SUPPOSED to like Izzy by now! Because Ed likes Ed now. He’s accepted himself. That’s what Izzy was for; showcasing Ed’s internal journey.

[fuckmeyer]

Just curious, will we ever get any more EPOV snippets in your series? I’m dying to know what he thought during the reunion scene, but really, I’d love to see anything!

hi anon, thanks for reading & dropping me an ask! :) so glad you liked the story! Edward's POV in Interlude is one of my favorite chapters of this series <3

re: your question, i'm not sure if/when we'll see more Edward snippets! i've toyed with concepts for a companion fic set between New Moon & Eclipse but have to get further in the next fic draft before i can write it

i could see myself writing EPOV snippets on this blog if there was any interest/requests, but as far as concrete plans, nothing atm!

may i ask - which reunion scene are you referring to? when they first see each other in Volterra? or do you mean post-Italy? :)

cheers! <3

[bertdrawsstuff]

Time to make a comic!

Allright, time to write about a personal project for this year. And that is to make a shirt comic again! I’ve already written an outline and now I need it to fit 8 pages. And why 8 pages? Well, I want to make the comic as an A5 sized zine, so the number of pages is determined by increments of 4 (as a standard A4 sheet holds 4 A5 pages). And I will do it in a classic 6 panel grid. And in black and white.

Why not publish it digitally, as a webcomic then? I first thought about that, but then I started listening to IKO’s The Lost Bay podcasts about TTRPG zine creators; and Chris Schweizer started posting about his swashbuckling comic project. I decided I wanted to try and print my comic, first in DIY fashion at my decent home printer.

So, what will it be about? A group of ratcatchers dying horribly in a dungeon, basically. It isn’t complex. I’ve been doing a lot of OSR/NSR inspired art lately and formed a short story idea in my head. 

What inspired me to do this? Honestly, it was KINGLY and SCRIBES, the comics by Nick Edwards. To make a comic in such an abstracted style suddenly seemed very doable to me, as I saw some of my own current artstyle reflected in his. Other stylistic abstraction influences for this will probably be Benjamin Schipper, Artyom Trakhanov, Brüno and my past Secret of Kells obsession. 

Currently, I’m plotting out the comic over its 8 pages. Figuring out where on the page and in which of its 6 panels certain story beats happen. It’s a puzzle. I’m already scrapping parts of my outline for brevity sake and to make room for more depth in other story areas. Furthermore, I’m sketching characters and going through previous art of mine to see who I can recycle for this story. It’s only 6 characters (4 adventurers, a shepherd and a tax collector).

[therandomavenger]

What Pride Means to Me

Step into the wayback machine with me for a moment.

The year is 1995. It’s the middle of summer. I am sitting in a movie theater with my best friend, Jennie, and we are watching one of the most popular films of that year, Mel Gibson’s Braveheart. <I thought you were going to write about Pride, you say? Give me a moment.>

Now, this is an entertaining film, made with obvious passion. It has a moving story and great performances. Its main villain is the English King, Edward I, played by Patrick McGoohan. Amidst all the major and minor characters is the character of Edward’s son, Prince Edward. As a prince, he’s not living up to his father’s expectations. And, though it’s ever really stated on screen, one of the reasons for this is he’s always in the company of his best friend, who is obviously also his gay lover.

The prince and his lover are mewling and foppish, presented without any redeeming qualities. The lover encourages the prince to stick up for himself against his father, and this all comes to a head in one scene in the middle of the film, where Edward is commanding the prince to do something, the prince protests, the lover says something cutting to the king, and the King grabs the lover and throws him out of the nearest window, to his death.

In the film, this moment is played entirely for laughs. And it got a big laugh from the audience I was sitting in. And in all the commentary this film has garnered over the years, I’ve not seen one other person mention this scene, let alone how problematic it is.

Now, clearly Edward II is the villain in this movie. It’s not like the main hero did this. But still, it doesn’t even seem to be added by the narrative to the list of Edward’s crimes. Indeed, the audience sympathizes with his frustration, and supports this casual murder. The prince is given very little further space in the story, merely doing what his father wants the rest of the film, his trauma unremarked upon.

I think I even laughed at this scene the first time that I saw it, because it’s presented as a moment of physical comedy. But I’ve thought about this scene a lot over the years, obviously, since it’s coming up in a blog post 28 years later.

This kind of thing was common in the 90’s. If gay people existed in media at all, we were disposable. The first victims of a murderer. Films that explored our lives focused mainly on the traumatic parts, and usually had one or more characters dying of AIDS (Philadelphia, I’m looking at you).

Now, I am including myself in that group now, but back then I would not have. While I was aware that I was attracted to guys, I kind of buried that deep within myself, sealing it up in a box that I did not dare open. It was my most shameful secret, one that I’d die to keep. And is it any wonder I didn’t want any part of it, given the examples I was seeing? I had no vision of happy gay people, living their truth. Now, I am aware that they existed. There have been gay writers and filmmakers putting out work for a long time. I’m not saying they didn’t exist. But they did not have a large audience or any kind of promotional budget and I, living in a small town in Indiana, was not aware of them.  

I think the first example of a non-traumatized gay character I came across was Matt in Melrose Place. And while Matt was canonically gay, and allowed to have a romantic life on screen, he was forced by the network sensors to say goodnight to every one of his dates with a firm handshake. So, it was technically representation, but was it really …?

I had never heard of Pride month back then, and I wouldn’t have done anything about it if I had. I didn’t say the words, “I am gay” to myself until I was 32. And it would take another 14 years for me to say it to another person.

So, Pride … I think I became aware of Pride around the time the gay marriage supreme court case went through. Now, I was out to myself at the time, but so deep in the closet that I could see Narnia. I was married to a woman and raising my children, and I thought ‘I might be gay, but it doesn’t mean anything because this is the life I chose for myself, and it would hurt too many people to disrupt.’ But when that decision came down, I felt so much joy. I knew why but didn’t say this to anyone. Because I knew it meant that someday, if circumstances changed, I would be able to live as my true self. I would not have to hide forever. And maybe that planted the seed that I wasn’t as trapped as I thought I was.

That year was the first time I noticed Pride going on. And I wanted to be part of it but couldn’t let myself. I wasn’t ready to blow apart my life yet. I wouldn’t be for another four years. So, Pride to me means standing up and being counted. If Braveheart were made today, I don’t think they would casually murder the prince’s lover and play it for laughs. There are popular network shows where gay people get to kiss their boyfriends and girlfriends on screen.  This even happens on so-called ‘family shows,’ (case in point my late, beloved Willow).  Queer people are allowed to live their lives in the open, and in most places in the west, are given equivalent rights to straight people.

Now, in recent years we have been reminded that there are still many people who would gladly throw us out the nearest window. But those people are a minority. A sizable, vocal minority, yes, but a minority. Most people have a ‘live and let live’ attitude toward queer people now. People I once thought would never accept me if I came out of the closet and started living an authentic life have embraced me and welcomed my boyfriend into the family. Being gay has gone from being my most shameful secret to being one of the things I like most about myself. I’ve gone from praying to be straight to realizing that if I had the chance to be straight, I wouldn’t take it. It may not be a choice for me, but if it were, I’d choose to be queer. There’s nothing wrong with me (at least if there is, it’s not this).

So, that’s what Pride means to me. We can be proud of who we are. We can be the people we were created to be, and love the people we were created to love, no matter what gender that person is. It’s a giant middle figure to the people who want to push us back into the closet. We’re Here! We’re Queer! Go Fuck yourself!

I wish I could go back in time and tell my younger self that he would one day be able to accept every part of himself, and that it would be okay to be that person. He lived in pain for so many years, hating himself, afraid to even let himself be aware of what he really wanted. But those days are over, and we will stand together as a community and refuse to be forced back into those dark days. That’s what Pride is, a signal that we exist and are valid.

originally published on chadgrayson.com

[royedismyaesthetic]

Warning: Another long rant about my wip

I’ve found that I can’t write the fic about Ed murdering Roy, though I have written a fic about Ed murdering Roy’s German doppelganger before. Doppelganger Roy was the scum of the earth and honestly had it coming, but in this fic, Roy is just sad and needs a hug. If you kill somebody who is close to you, in a slow, painful way instead of just giving them the hug they need… even if they really wanted to die in the first place… it’s gonna look pretty bad, especially if the guy you killed was likable. As much as I like the idea weirdly erotic murders, I’m saving that idea for later, and we’re going in a different direction. 

So in the fic, soon after Ed’s mother dies, he does the first thing he can think of doing, which is to kiss her cheek, hoping that it will wake her up (*sings* Wake me up inside!) and bring her back to life? And after she’s buried, he does the second thing he can think of doing, which is to drape his body over her gravestone in hope that her warmth will soak into him that way, but the only thing he feels is the cold seeping through the fabric of his clothes and under his skin. And as I said before, Roy feels dead inside and wants to be reminded that he’s human and that he’s living. So near the end of 03’s storyline, Ed will kiss Roy, and in a sense, Roy will be brought back to life (and Ed will feel Roy's warmth beneath him). 

The events in Conqueror of Shamballa will then take place and Ed will stay in Germany. The following winter, Edward will sense Roy’s death, and Ed knows that he’s dead because he feels a part of him dying along with Roy, and he also feels a chill in the air. The beginning of the story is about how Ed became familiar with the concept of death as a child. And the change in temperature calls back to his question at the start of the story, which is ‘... how is it that someone so warm can become so cold? How is it that someone who has a fire raging inside of them too can become so frozen? Is there any sense in this seemingly senseless thing?” And it supports his theory that there is no better way to recognize warmth than to become familiar with its opposite. 

[therealvinelle]

Thoughts on Esme?

I have them.

To start with, I see Esme quite differently from the way this fandom appears to see her, yet also quite differently from the way Meyer intended for me to see her.

I think we all on this website have noticed that fandom has morphed Esme into a very different character than the one we met in the books.

Now, some people take this further than others, and it’s gotten to a point where I can’t tell if fandom believes this new and shinier Esme is canon, or if they know she isn’t canon but don’t care. Either way, the common denominator to all variations of fanon Esme is that this fandom is sick of the way Stephenie Meyer writes women, and see Esme as the worst affected by all. And fanon Esme is a vindication, one where Esme is an assertive, intelligent, feminist woman with a fantastic sex life and an impressive career. The ideal American woman of the 21st century.

And to each their own - if this makes people happy, then by all means. This meta is my personal opinion on her, though, and since fanon Esme has gained such a strong foothold in fandom I would be amiss not to bring her up.

Another thing I’d be amiss not to bring up is movie Esme. The Esme portrayed in the movies is, like so many of the characters, a different person than the one in the books. She is charming, warm, appears to have no difficulty controlling herself, and off the top of my head I can think of one time where she’s given what was originally Carlisle’s moment. I’m talking about sparing Bree - in the books this is something only Carlisle would do, something that has the others going, “jeez, Carlisle, only you”. In the film, this is a decision he and Esme make as a couple. This changes both their characters.

So, these versions of Esme exist, and they’re good characters, but they’re not the Esme I see in the books.

What we meet in canon is a woman who contents herself with being a 50’s housewife. No one in the house eats, she still knows how to cook. Making beautiful homes and keeping them beautiful is not just her passion, it appears to be all she wants to do. Now, humans can be housewives, and that’s a choice I respect very much, but Esme is a vampire, living in a vampire coven. The Cullens have zero need for a housewives. And she doesn’t do other things, either. There is only the creation of homes and being a mother. 

And so Esme floats through eternity, embodying the Mother archetype, going through all the motions mothers do with no deeper meaning to any of it.

She gives me the creeps.

I don’t know if anyone here has read Coraline, but in that book we meet the Other Mother. Other Mother always has time for Coraline, she makes all the delicious food Coraline could ever want, and loves her very much. The cat tells us that this may be, Other Mother may love Coraline, but it could also just be she wants to eat her. And since Bella does end up sowing buttons into her eyes, I can’t shake the association.

I think the Esme Platt who ran away to fend for herself and her child, who got a job and struggled to be independent, died with her child. This was her last tie to hope, to this world, and with his death she gave up on life in a way nothing could meaningfully recall.

She then wakes up as a vampire, beautiful (I’m guessing here, but one of the most common things men like to insult women is by demeaning our appearance. An abusive husband, living with Esme in a time where a woman’s appearance decided her worth even more than it does today, would definitely use this against her. Not to mention, it is a cornerstone in female socialization that we’re taught to value our looks. Becoming inhumanly beautiful would boost anybody’s spirits and install confidence, and I doubt Esme was an exception), stronger and faster than any human man, invulnerable, powerful in a way she never dreamed she could be. 

The man she idolized since she was a child, who was supposed to be an unattainable dream, is there, and even more wonderful than she remembered. He’s the one who saved her, and within the year he becomes her husband. 

(This by itself is too fantastical, too storybook ending, and I imagine snapped whatever remaining strings Esme still had tethering her to sanity. Any newborn vampire would find themselves in a surreal new state of being, but this is a step further. There’s getting to have it all, and then there’s... well, then there’s this.)

Then there is Edward. Days after she lost her son, she’s presented with a young man who lost his mother. 

(And this might be a post of its own, but: we never see Esme be a mother to any of the other Cullens, and I don’t think she is. It’s just Edward. And she loves him all the more for it. She wouldn’t blink at Bella dying if Edward decided his thirst weighed heavier than his fascination with the human. This is canon - they have a conversation about this, and Esme make her stance clear. She puts Edward above absolutely everything else in this world.)

What I’m getting at here, is that Esme was handed perfection on a silver platter. All the things she’d lost, all the things she’d lacked, things that had been taken from her in the cruelest manner possible, were now given to her, in perfect condition at that. Esme will never have to worry about things like money, sickness, aging, or even Edward growing up and leaving the nest. (And even when he does get married and have a baby, he still doesn’t leave the nest!)

Esme was given the ultimate do-over with vampirism, and she spends it being what she never got to be in life. (And I’ll link this post, because Bella’s in the same situation, if less extreme, and they’re both in for a rude awakening. And I don’t think Esme will cope at all.)

To Esme, vampirism is startlingly similar to the afterlife. It’s her tailored paradise, eternal and perfect. There’s the fact that every so often she slips up and eats people, but that only adds to the eeriness of it all.

Esme Cullen is more a ghost story than a vampire to me, haunting whichever house the Cullens inhabit under the guise of being a homebody.

(As for the her supposed sex life with Carlisle - Meyer said they have a spiritual relationship. That’s hilarious, and code for they’re not having sex.)

[flowersandbirdsflyingfree]

As a continuation, this is my other self ship. I admit I’m much more bashful about this one. But I have a soft spot for him, much like many of his fans do. This is about Me and Primis Edward Richtofen.

Edelweiß

The storyline will not be as lengthy as Ultimis due to its very dark nature but long story short, I was an anomaly who essentially showed up long enough to be close enough to him yet short enough to end my involvement at BOTD, in which Richtofen and I ran away after I saved him ( I had done very bad things for this to happen). Our meeting started with me wanting to return the lost summoning key to him and find my way back to my home dimension. Although he was very suspicious with how much knowledge I had about everything, my demeanor was barely a threat so I joined them to help.

What brings us together? It’s two things: being each other’s rock of faith in a world so rough and confiding in each other within being flawed human beings. Edward bears so much on his shoulders between expectations to meet and essentially relying on one sin after another in hopes it’ll lead to redemption. In my case, I’ve made my own mistakes too between being blinded by my own emotions and quite simply because I either care too much about other or finally long to stand up for myself accepting whatever cost it takes to act. Something I’ll never forget is what he told me; “What separates you from them is that your heart looks past someone who’s wronged you and you know they’re hurting. You knew I was hurting and you coming to mein aid has made me feel heard.”

It was his idea to run away with me after I transfused one Richtofen’s blood to the once dying Primis. He was defeated to learn of what would come of Nikolai’s plan in order to win the Great War. He also still felt very bitter that he was essentially thrown away as a vessel. So, after several days of gathering his belongings, we opened up a portal and left. Ever since, we settled into a universe where the two of us could live comfortably. Albeit, he’s not so used to the modern world I lived in. But he sees this as a golden opportunity to write our own better tomorrow, in his words. “This time, we are the authors. Not some Gott-forsaken book.”

EDIT: THIS SHIP IS EXPIRED

At the time of reading this, Edelweiß has rebranded to me and Medic from Team Fortress 2

[bookwyrminspiration]

My power is out. It’s snowing. I’m cold. My phone is at 34%. I don’t have much longer, Quil. My cat has sook refuge under my blanket. Quil, if I don’t make it… please write a Kotlc Twilight au in my honor. It’s my dying wish…

/j

NO BECAUSE I'VE THOUGHT ABOUT THIS BEFORE. I made a post comparing the characters once. I probably wouldn't use that casting for an au because it would be a little strange if Keefe was Edward and Sophie was his daughter, Renesmee. But! We could make Sophie Bella and work from there.

However, if we go for consistency then I'm going to have to make a choice for Jacob, as right now I've got him split between Dex (pre-werewolf) and Fitz (post werewolf), but neither of them fully encompass him. Fitz isn't a fun mechanic, and Dex isn't full of anger saying things he regrets.

I also encounter the problem of Alice and Rosalie, as if we're trying to match the first books then Marella goes better with Alice's light, gossipy, always in the loop nature. And Biana matches the coldness Rosalie shows to Bella. But the problem is that if we consider it as a full au, Rosalie never warms up to Bella the way Biana does to Sophie, and I compared Marella to Leah--there's a great "having everything taken from me" similarity there. Leah's the only female werewolf who can't have kids because of it, and Marella's the only new pyrokinetic and can't be matched because of it. Though Leah harbors more anger than Marella.

OH! I've forgotten to consider the antagonists here. I already had the Fintan/Aro comparison, but what about James and Victoria?? I could see the Lady Gisela as Victoria for the obsessive, inescapable nature and her prevalence as a problem in the story. But that would make Lord Cassius James and that doesn't work, he's not cool enough to be a tracker. I'd have to change the dynamics between James and Victoria likely, as there's no suitable relationship in the Neverseen. They're not really close enough--unless it's Umber and Trix, but they feel too background to be James and Victoria.

I'd also have to think about what I wanted this au to be. Is it focusing on the romance, as twilight is a romance saga? Or do I want to focus on the vampirism? What points do I want to hit? the meeting and falling for each other? the first moments? or the transformation and vampirism?

You see there's just so much to consider with a twilight au, it's been rotating in my head for so long because there's so much to bend and play with. I once compared Alden and Carlisle, but I don't think Alden could serve as Carlisle in an au because he's not a doctor.

There's so much to think about ozzy--

[archduke42]

Thank you so much for tagging me, @stellanslashgeode Challenge accepted!!

Most hits  Anisoka: Conspiracy on Ringo Vinda (4,582)I am amazed how this story turned out to be my most popular.  When I was deeply saddened by the Barriss Offee plot twist in 2013, I not only started writing lots of Barrissoka stories, I started doing other Ahsoka ships just to create some harmony with fans of other shippings.  It’s part 2 of an Anisoka trilogy, but it is definitely the one that gets the most love.  It’s more fun of an adventure since I modeled the story from the Hospital scenes from “Star Trek IV: The Voyage Home”, so it has a mirthful adventure about saving Tup and Fives from Palpatine’s schemes

Fewest hits  Obinara: The Long Shot (139) I think this one is a recent story, so it doesn’t have as many views yet, but I like building this ship over time, so we’ll see how it looks in a year.  It’s a cool adventure with a fast, edge of your seat escape (I love writing those kind of stories, though I perfectly understand that fans are probably getting tired of my one schtick story method, lol)

Most kudos Anisoka: Conspiracy on Ringo Vinda (173) Again, a fun adventure that gets madcap when Anakin and Ahsoka help save Tup from impending doom.  I love my Barrissoka stories but they are perhaps too dramatic and sappy with the action romance.  Again, this story was a slight departure from my usual predictable style.

Most comments Epiphany (18) An inspiring story where I assumed Ahsoka could sense Anakin’s redemption while she fought anonymously during the battle over Endor.  I wanted a feel good thang with a connection to Episode VI

Fewest comments  The Dying of the Light (2) There are plenty of stories with no comments, so I just took the one with the fewest.  I’m still proud of this story after 10 years.  I wrote it during a time of Star Wars canon despair but it has helped me to appreciate throwing awesome poetry into my Fiction mixes.

Most bookmarks  Anisoka: Conspiracy on Ringo Vinda (21)  Again, this story resonates well with Anisoka fans, but maybe Star Wars readers in General.  If you’ve never seen Star Trek IV: The Voyage Home, it’s a great movie about saving Earth, Saving the Whales, and Hospital antics to save one of the crew while stuck in the 20th Century.  Awesome film

Fewest bookmarks  Jar Jar/Julia: The Phantoms of Carnage (1) I wanted to give a little love to Jar Jar (though I am jealous that Lucas made Jar Jar’s romance canon while us other shippers have to watch from outside the Star Wars window) Harmless romance adventure

Most words Star Wars Episode II: Attack of the Clones (48,433) I think it makes sense that this has the most words, since I think AotC is the movie with the greatest potential of missed opportunities in story.  I rewrote the Prequels in my own image between 2005-2010, and I am rather proud of the changes and character arcs I gave, and I am so happy to have found a huge fanbase online when I thought I was the only one writing deeper stories for Barriss Offee before 2013.

Fewest words  Barradin: All Our Tomorrows (728) Cuz I still do a little bit with shipping Barriss and a poor OC boy named Conradin who meant well.  Conrad was a character based off of a historical boy, Conrad of Hohenstaufen, Duke of Swabia (1252-1268) A direct descendant of Charlemagne, this kid was just like Joan of Arc and Edward the Black Prince.  Another teen thrust into midievel wars by adults who couldn’t handle things.  His short journey inspired me with an OC who is almost destined for greatness but was never meant to achieve that greatness.  This was just a short story that paired Conrad and Barriss together as a couple with new struggles.  I’m more of a Barrissoka shipper now, but Barradin was a nice place to start :) Conrad’s story can be found here: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Conradin

No pressure tag to @jedimasterbailey @devondeal @lesbiansandpuns @thecleverqueer​ @425599167​

stats tag game

Thank you so much for tagging me, @kalevalakryze ! This will be fun.

Most hits (1,148) Sundari Lament: This one makes sense. It is twelve chapters and I updated it fairly regularly so it was pushed up to the newly added search results quite consistently. This is the one I'm most proud of and the one I will point new readers to. If the Concerto is what I'm known for that's fine with me. I had a lot to say with this one and I think I communicated it well with the right dramatic flair and tone.

Fewest hits (163) Lavender and Chartreuse: The one is always going to be my little lost lamb. It's a ship nobody was asking for. The fanbase for Resistance is miniscule. But I really like it. It's the only one I started with the goal of writing erotica and I think it delivers. It has my favorite moment of intimacy in one of my stories, involving the belt of a bathrobe. If anyone wants to make fanart of my work I would love to see that scene illustrated. I think it's really sweet.

Most kudos (49) Heart of Kyber: This story has taught me a lot about my audience. I write stories about Barriss and what most people who seek out those stories truly want is her smooching Ahsoka. I get it, trust me. It will take some time for another one of my works to surpass the kudos for this one, it regularly chugs along and picks up more. I really love this one. I put in a lot of my personal feelings about forgiveness and what it takes to love someone who hurt you. I like to think it comes out in the writing.

Most comments (58) Inferno: I know why this one has so many comments, it's controversial! The thought behind it was "Okay, Dave. You want to do Barriss dirty like that, make her a criminal? Then go all out! Make her a real radical, explain her motivations, and have her team up with all the other radicals in the series to really accomplish something!" In retrospect I didn't explain effectively some character choices which led to some of the comments. This one arrived in a firehose of inspiration; I was updating every day, so it got a lot of early attention. I think it got shared somewhere, maybe Reddit, because a lot of readers I don't know showed up. And it made some people big mad. Hense the comments.

Fewest comments (0) Lavender and Chartreuse: Again, under loved. What I like most about this one is that since it's told from the POV of a temporarily blinded person who has a one-night stand. It's very sensual. It's all "oh this person has strong arms", it's all touch and smell and taste. It's about vulnerability and seeking comfort though closeness. I really like this one. I think the title is really clever on top of everything else.

Most bookmarks (12) Sundari Lament: I could see why people wanted to bookmark and wait until it was finished!

Fewest bookmarks (0) Jedi: Dropout- This one was an experiment to see if an all-OC story would appeal to readers. I used to mainly for worldbuilding and writing this cute clueless couple who were not heroes but had to adapt to dangerous circumstances. It's my other weird little child.

Most words (50,678) Sundari Lament: I did not expect it to get this long but when you're filling in what happened behind the scenes over three seasons of a television series you can get a little carried away. I didn't realize when I started how many times the action goes back to Sunari, so I had to account for that and this one had a lot of character development, so it needed time to breathe. I think it's the right length for what it needed to accomplish.

Fewest words (13,003) From Uncanny unto Concordance: L&C is a one-shot so I'm not counting that one (it's just over 5K). This story was designed to be short, one chapter per season over the course of a year. It was designed to be intimate and a relatively small story. I'm happy with how it turned out and I am enjoying fleshing out the AU in the sequel.

No pressure tag to @archduke42

[believinghurts]

New Series Alert

I have gotten back into Twilight and have decided to take a swing at writing fanfics for it. This is the prolouge/start to my new OC series. Please read and let me know what you think! Don’t worry I will be continuing writing the Their Daugther series as well, but my James Potter and Percy Weasley series has been put on pause. I’m not 100% sure where to go next in those stories so until I figure it out I am trying something new!

Warnings: Bella bashing, jealously, umm Renee being rude

Word Count: 900

Lucky Star

“Well I see that you are still dying your hair those God awful colors, Elizabeth,” Renee sneered at her eldest daughter while her step-siblings, Jack and Maisie, and her sister laughed.

“Yeah, I am. Good to see you too, mom,” Lizzie rolled her eyes slightly. She had always been the least favorite twin in her mother's eyes. Isabella, her sister, was perfect in every way possible according to Renee. This was the first time she had seen her mother in about 4 years. Lizzie had lived with their father all of her life. When she and her sister were three their parents got divorced. Isabella went with their mom and Lizzie with their dad, then during the summer, the girls would switch for a month. That was up until their mother met Phil and his two-span, then Lizzie’s summers became filled with sitting in her small room alone. Bella decided when she was 11 that she didn’t want to switch anymore causing Lizzie to stop seeing their mother altogether. She would call once or twice a year if that, but it was fine. Lizzie had plenty of people to fill that void in such as Sue Clearwater and her boyfriends’ mother, Esme.

Lizzie wouldn’t be here now if it weren’t for Renee not wanting Bella to fly alone, but of course, it was okay for Lizzie to fly alone to Arizona to just turn around and fly right back to Forks, Washington. Lizzie would much rather be at home watching baseball with her dad or out with Rose causing mischief to Roses’ siblings. Lizzie had always been slightly envious of the Cullen siblings' relationship. Although adopted they were all incredibly close. Emmett and Edwards were always joking around with Rose and Alice talking about fashion while Jasper and Grey were always working on some sort of puzzle. Isabella and Lizzie had never really gotten along even as kids. The favoritism from their mother combined with Bellas's need to be the center of attention always caused a rift.

Lizzie remembers the one time she got the lead in a school play during the fourth grade. She had called her mother, excited to share her achievement only to have her rip it away by saying Bella won some award for math and that Lizzie probably only got it because the other girl was sick or something. Bella bragged about her award every time she saw her sister while belittling her about the play-calling it and Lizzie names.

“I would love to stay and chat, but we have a flight to catch. Come on Bella.” Lizzie turned and walked back towards the Port Angeles terminal wanting to get back to rainy Washington and away from her mother as soon as possible. She hears Bella say goodbye and her hurried footsteps to catch up with Lizzie.

“You could have said goodbye” the younger Swan snapped while they waited for their boarding passes to be called.

“Why? It’s not like mom or any of them care if I do or not,” Lizzie answered back. The sound of Lizzies phone ringing cut of Bellas reply. Lizzie smiled before picking up. “Hey, Esme. What’s up?”

“Hi, darling. I was just making sure you landed okay and was about to be on your way back,” The matron of the Cullen household replied. Esme had loved Lizzie ever since she met her. The girl was sweet and caring towards everyone including her family of vampires. Lizzie never made them feel like they were anything less than human. Esme had heard of how her actual mother treated her and stepped in to help fill the role since she already saw her as one of her own.

“Yeah, the flight was fine. We’re waiting to be called now. So I’ll have to get off soon.” Lizzie ignored Bellas's confused looking glare.

“That’s fine. I was just checking up on you. I’ll see you tomorrow hopefully.” Lizzie heard a yell coming through the background. “Tell my girl I’ll see her at school tomorrow!”

Lizzie giggled, “I’ll see everyone tomorrow. Bye Esme,” and since she knew whoever was in the house could hear her, “Bye everyone else!” a chorus of byes rang out as she ended the call.

“Who was that?” Bella asked. She was confused as to why her sister had so many people who cared about her. Bella knew she was the better twin; she was prettier, smarter, funnier.

Lizzie ignored her sister till after take off. She knew she was trapped into answering now. “Lizzie, who was that? Whose Esme? Dad’s girlfriend?”

Lizzie burst out laughing. She knew that her dad would never date, she had tried multiple times to get him to. He was too focused on his daughter and job to do so. And the thought of Carlisle and Esme not being together was heartbreaking, “No, Esme is not dads’ girlfriend. Esme is my boyfriend's mother.”

Bellas jaw dropped to the floor. Does her sister have a boyfriend? Who has a family that likes her? That was insane to her. Bella remained quiet for the remainder of the flight thinking of how she was going to get this ‘boyfriend to leave her sister and come to her. She knew that he was probably weird if he was dating her blue-haired sister, but she didn’t care. Soon everyone would see what a freak Elizabeth Star Swan was

[nygmobblepot-trash]

WARNING: Kinda NSFW I guess. A def NSFW fanfic Alluded to.

Oswald getting a random call from The Riddler: "You never call me... Are you finally dying?"

Riddler: "Submissive and breedable."

Oswald: "What the fuck did you just call me?"

Riddler: "Not you. Mad hatter captured me, well at least he thinks he has me captured. Idiot didn't even check if I had my phone-"

Oswald: "I'm really not in the mood to hear you jerk off your own ego."

Mad Hatter muffled: "That's....story....you..."

Riddler: "Yes I'm getting to that. The ignoramus called me that and I understand what those words mean.. separately. He just told me that it is apparently from a story you wrote. Oswald are you writing libel now? Ed may be but I am not."

Oswald: "Ed ignore him. He talks in gibberish anyways. Now since you have him near by I need you to tell him to stay out of my office. It has nothing to do with what we are talking about though."

*papers being crinkled and rubbed together is heard by Oswald*

Riddler: "Of course I can read upside down."

*Oswald dives to his desk and quickly unlocks one of the drawers* "Shit. Shit. Shit." *what was in there is no longer there* "OH GOD. OH FUCK. ED DO NOT READ THAT PLEASE. IF OUR FRIENDSHIP MEANS ANYTHING TO YOU, PLEASE. I WILL GIVE YOU ANYTHING YOU WANT."

Riddler: "This didn't happen at all. Why are you making things up?"

Oswald: "No one was ever supposed to read it. Sometimes I think about what could happen between us. It isn't real and it never will be. I know that, but I can't help to dream."

Riddler: "You're right, this would never happen. You have me all wrong. You think you'd be in control? Absolutely not. I'd have you begging-"

Oswald: "THAT'S THE ISSUE YOU HAVE?! REALLY? You know what okay, sure. Of course. I know you Ed, you may have an ego but that little meek scientist is still in you. I saw it with Becca-

Riddler: "ISAB-

Oswald: "Shut up. You were putty in her hands and the one before her."

Riddler: "Hm. I guess you're right."

Oswald: "Of course I am. Now tell me where you are so I can torture Mad H-

Riddler: "Actions are louder than words. See you soon Ozzie."

*The line goes dead*

Oswald: "Idiot didn't say his location"

...

Oswald: "Unless.."

...

Oswald: "No."

...

Oswald starting to panic: "No that's not what he meant."

...

Oswald's assistant running into Oswald's office: "Sir are you expecting Edward Nygma today? I've been alerted that he somehow has made it past the gate."

Oswald: "THIS IS THE GREATEST DAY OF MY LIFE. TELL ALL THE STAFF THEY HAVE THE DAY OFF AND TO LEAVE IMMEDIATELY."

Assistant: "Sir he's dangerous and he could hurt you."

Oswald: "I fucking hope."

[aerialflight]

Fic Recs (mostly Naruto cause I read too many good fics in the fandom and now I'm in hell)

[Naruto]

Spirit-Touched by phooykazooi

Once upon a time, the Haruno clan were priests. It was said that they were spirit-touched, and that they walked among the downtrodden and the poor, and did not bow to royalty.

Or, an AU in which Sakura can see spirits.

Part 1 of The Realms Between

(Really, and I mean REALLY fantastic Shikamaru & Sakura friendship! Fantastic, beautiful writing, and such good worldbuilding, god, and the Haruno family is so badass!! Sakura and everything she does makes me want to scream!! Please read!)

Final Evaluation by Do_the_Cool_Whip

Progress evaluations are one-on-one consultation meetings between academy students and their teacher. Their purpose is to inform academy students of their strengths and weaknesses and guide them down their ideal path to becoming a strong shinobi. Upon graduating the academy and passing their jounin-sensei test, new genin return to the academy for one final consultation. (Or: The story of what happens when Umino Iruka uses his final meetings with his students as way to send them off to become the best shinobi they can possibly be.)

(Iruka! Is! The! Best! Teacher! Ever! End of story!!! Great interpretation of all the characters and their capabilities and I am so so excited for the sequel that will undoubtedly come! XD)

Celestial Bodies by Oceanbreeze7

Sasuke looked at the fire, eyes glowing red as the mutated corrupted seal on his throat. "Amaterasu blessed me. I see things. Like you with two normal eyes and the Hokage. And Sakura with a seal on her forehead. And I run Chidori through Naruto's heart. I keep trying to kill him. Over and over. And that knuckleheaded idiot never gives up.”

(Don't you get it? I saw it. The moon will bleed, the nations will die. The world is going to end.)

Part 1 of Celestial Bodies and Anomalies

(I swear, this fic freaking elevated my expectations on Sasuke-centric fics in general holy hell. Also, read the fucking sequel after this cause EVERYTHING GOES NUTS AND THE PLOT GOES OFF AND I'M HERE FOR THIS SHIT. Fucking Uchihas man. Also, you wouldn't think this series is funny, but it is, and it's amazing.)

A step to the left (and right off the cliff) by weavingBlue

Team Seven starts off on a different foot and Sasuke's canonical journey to get stronger goes off the rails a bit. It all works out though. Probably.

(This fic went in a direction I didn't expect and it's GLORIOUS. SO FUNNY, I honestly was dying while I was reading this. Please give this a chance!!)

promises by BombsAreForBabies

It's her first kiss and Naruto's last. She promises him that she will bring Sasuke home. It's his dying wish, after all.

(Naruto bleeds out faster than the kyuubi can heal him.

Sakura learns that being a ninja is more than fancy jutsu and fun.

Sasuke does not know that he just killed his best friend and turned his most loyal comrade into his worst enemy.)

(Listen LISTEN I know this sounds depressing but the relationship developments and slow healing is EVERYTHING and I think it's absolutely worth it to read this. Sakura's characterization is so good and Kakashi makes me want to hug him. A lot.)

Fang Under Fang by Vroomian

"Are we sure he's really an Inuzuka?"

(The answer is no.)

-

Someone reborn as Inuzuka Kiba not only has to deal with bullshit ninja magic, but soulmates being A Thing.

(Really good self-insert fic and its platonic soulmates, not romantic! I am always here for a good Kiba-centric fic and I won't say who the soulmate is. It's unexpected but so, so good! Trust me!)

Haunt The Lonely by Tht0neGal666

(Series where Sakura can see ghosts and the Things she gets up to due to this ability. The fics are short but man, you can already see the shifting differences in Team 7's dynamics, it's great!)

Perception by Ellie_Enchanted

Naruto can sense auras, which throws everything off it's balance. Because really, with someone as open as Naruto running around and peering into the depths of people's souls, something is bound to change. In other words, sometimes all that's needed is a push. Also, Sasuke apparently glows.

(Naruto the empath changing the plot and making it Better and I am loving it!)

Crossfire by DejaVu22

Following the events of Naruto, Uchiha Sasuke never makes it to Orochimaru's hideout. Instead, he is waylaid by a one-eyed man named Tobi, a man possessing a Sharingan, a terrifying dual personality, a penchant for always being late, and a single-minded mission to stop the Akatsuki in their tracks. When Sasuke runs into Naruto again years later, he must ally with his old teammate in order to protect him from the Akatsuki, while keeping him out of the two man war Tobi and Sasuke have started against the dangerous organization.

(I honest to god can't stop cackling when I read this, the Sasuke & Obito dynamic is so freaking chaotic and Sasuke's characterization is the best thing I've ever read. This boi is a mEsS and I'm fucking rooting for him. He cares so much! There's secret identity shenanigans happening on sasuke's end and it's HILARIOUS! This is the duo I never thought I needed but here it is! *cackles insanely*)

-

[Diamond no Ace]

Echo in His Hands by SportRayne (rayningnight)

Ship: Miyuki/Sawamura

What does it mean, when you remember snapshots of your own future?

Is it your future at all, if you change it?

Would you even want to change it?

(Look I am WEAK for BAMF Eijun and time travel fics and Miyuki being a tanuki bastard, okay? Time travel fic where Eijun gets feelings of people he knew before in the future. Really good so far and am so excited over this fic!)

The path we walk by WindsOfTime

Ship: Miyuki/Sawamura

Eijun goggles at the magazine she just shoved into his hands. "W-Wakana!" "I know!" she says, beaming. "That's my soulmate!!" "I know!!" "My soulmate plays baseball!!"

(Became such an instant fave so fast it's unbelievable. I LOVE THESE IDIOTS SO MUCH! Best soulmate fic in this fandom, hands down!)

-

[One Piece]

switching places by fireflywitch

Zoro is 21 and wakes up in a desert they already saved, on a ship that they burned two years ago, and standing next to a man who is supposed to be dead. Except, that can’t be right, can it?

Zoro is 19 and wakes up on a ship that’s too big, next to a robot wearing a swimsuit, and he’s supposed to fight something called a Kaido. Also, he’s missing an eye, and no one’s even a little worried about it?

(or)

Time travel is a shitshow, and Zoro didn't sign up for this.

(FUCKING HILARIOUS ZORO IS THE BEST PERSON TO SEND BACK IN TIME CAUSE HE'D BE TERRIBLE YET FANTASTIC AT IT I CAN'T MAN FIEWNOPFEW)

No Time To Crank The Sun by VIKAN

He’s surrounded by strangers, but they’re all trying to convince him otherwise. Or, Zoro faces a mysterious and relentless challenge that he just can’t wrap his head around.

(This ripped my heart open, I cried reading this my god. Please read this, the pain is so worth it and Zoro and his relationship with his crew is so good here. This reminded me why I love the Straw Hats so much!)

-

[Fairy Tail]

to learn about a lucy (with a look into the future.) by るる凪 - nagi (arurun)

A watching the future fanfic.

It's currently X781, three years before canon. A group of Fairy Tail mages find themselves in a large building, with no known way out.

They sit down, and they watch the future.

(This is so much more fun than I thought it would be and I'm so happy I found this fic. This fic reignited my old love for this fandom and I hope it does for you too!)

-

[Harry Potter]

sunflowers by Marnie27

One day, a young girl sits on the edge of a well. On this day, she falls in. Then the next, she’s not even a ‘she’ anymore. He’s Peter Pettigrew — doomed to die at the hands of his (betrayed) friend’s son.

Peter is selfish, bitter and brash. He’s not some fairy tale hero, he doesn’t care if everyone around him dies, as long as he lives. The marauders are annoying and childish. Survival is his priority, and he can’t afford to face distractions.

This just makes the fact that soulmates are now apparently a thing all the more godawful.

(And then another day years later he falls into an entirely new impossibility, Remus Lupin in tow, right into the third book of Harry Potter. Smack bang on the other Peter Pettigrew’s grave).

It’s confusing and graceless, and entirely something that would happen to him of all people.

(Self-insert fic where a girl reincarnates into Peter Pettigrew! And there are soulmates! And it's angsty and hilarious and Peter is an Asshole (somewhat unintentionally lol). Always a fan of biased pov fics and characters slowly improving themselves and their mental health! Cause dying! Is! Traumatic! *smiley face* Please read!)

-

[Crossovers]

he's a killer queen, sunflower, guillotine by hoye

Fandoms: Fullmetal Alchemist, Harry Potter

He has to be the weirdest Hufflepuff Harry’s ever seen. Scratch that, he’s the weirdest Hufflepuff Hogwarts has ever seen.

(One thing everyone could agree on: NEVER call Edward Elric short.)

(This is peak Edward Elric and all the best things about him and I'm just having a Good Time. Friendships! Logical solutions! Marauder screentime! And so much More! *bright grin* It's a fun place here!)

[gretchensinister]

9 people I want to get to know better:

Tagged by @plush-anon and I am so glad for the procrastination opportunity 

favourite colour: Purple! Anyway here’s something I may be misremembering from childhood. There was this VHS I had called Wee Sing In Sillyville and it was basically children’s songs connected with a loose plot about a land of colors (people wearing all of one color outfits, red, green, yellow, etc.) except that they didn’t get along with or talk to each other anymore and the character the story followed was trying to get them to get along again, I think? And most of the colors were big groups of people, but the Purple Lady was one old lady in an all-purple outfit and she was the only one who agreed with the main character that the colors should get along and work together again and I was like ‘wow wise old purple lady.’ (Also in this the main character was colorful at the beginning and then SOMETHING happened and all the colors in her outfit went away and IDK if the story said it but I KNEW she was DYING. And then all the color groups were like ‘oh no what do we do we liked her when she visited us’ and purple lady was like ‘you need to work together’ and they gave her colors back by tying pieces from their own outfits to main character’s outfit and then she came back to life and was colorful again. And the colors started talking to each other again. I think! I cannot emphasize enough that this was a preschool/kindergarten-aimed story/song collection of the kind that kids lose interest in quickly outside of that age group, so I don’t remember it that well! EXCEPT at some point as an adult I was hit by the memory of this like a ton of bricks, because I think this was my first example of “unifying the elements is the correct answer/these things should never have been separated in the first place” in a story. Before The Dark Crystal (also importantly purple…hmm [hmmmMMMmmmm—I mean—]) for sure. And then I wrote essentially an epic fantasy novel with that as a huge theme. 

currently reading: 1) Project Hail Mary by Andy Weir—I hadn’t read anything else by him before and I love it? It’s for an SFF book club and I would never have picked it up if not for that because honestly I was making a lot of assumptions about what kind of science fiction by men gets popular and what kind of characters I’d see in such a book. Well, I was wrong. 2) Dragonflight by Anne McCaffrey—Admittedly I’m only at the beginning of this one but there seems to be ‘some people are just better than others because of birth’ baked into the foundation of the story and I’M STRUGGLING. There’s also already been plenty of times when I have asked myself “why would you, a woman, write women like this?” Also epithets all over the place. But then again without the epithets I’m bombarded by apostrophes. (I’m sure in the past 54 years someone has said something like this but this is my OC F’lan, he rides a caramel custard colored dragon and everyone thinks he’s sweet and loves him.) 3) Dawnshard by Brandon Sanderson—I would call it bonus material for The Stormlight Archives. That series BTW is a massive page commitment so like, enter at your own risk? 4) Why Are Faggots So Afraid of Faggots? Flaming Challenges to Masculinity, Objectification, and the Desire to Conform edited by Mattilda Bernstein Sycamore—Essays by a wide range of queer people with a wide range of relationships to masculinity, I recommend this to anyone who wants to understand more about the breadth of what queerness encompasses. 

last song: Not sure what song I listened to last, but I currently have Home by Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeroes stuck very completely in my head, so that’s what I’ll answer with. 

last movie: Annihilation. I love this movie. This time watching it I was drawn to the way the person in the old camp who was taken over by fungus is positioned on the wall in one of those ambiguous martyrdom/ecstasy poses. 

last series: Star Trek: TOS, which I only recently realized was available to borrow from the library. Get a library card and make sure you have something to play discs with, people. The library wants you to have access to as much free stuff as possible. Streaming services DON’T. Piracy is fine for big titles but the process of protecting my computer from viruses and/or removing a virus is something that’s an intimidating problem for me. Placing a library hold on a DVD is easy, legal, and free.   

sweet, spicy or savoury: Savory, though it’s not as if I dislike the others. Speaking of savory things, though, here’s a very simple savory snack which may mark me as some kind of gremlin but anyway: There’s this stuff called Better Than Bouillon, which you can find at the grocery store with the other bouillon/stock/soups, it comes in a little jar and it’s like a bouillon paste, which you’re supposed to use like bouillon cubes. Well, get that, in the roasted vegetable flavor. Then butter a piece of bread really thickly, THEN take just a little Better Than Bouillon and use the butter knife to work it into the butter until it’s like the butter got a noticeable tan. SO savory. Don’t do this if you’re concerned about your salt intake tho. 

coffee or tea: Coffee, for sure. It’s a treat and not an everyday thing for me, caffeine will reliably do things to my energy levels that I don’t want it to. You know, I think it might be the idea of a hot drink as a treat that makes me care less for tea? I can’t make a latte or a mocha at home, but in my area, home, chain coffee shop, independent coffee shop, any level of café or restaurant, any tea you get is going to be just the tea bag plonked in a cup of hot water. That doesn’t feel special! It means I have to decide when to take the tea bag out and then I have to deal with a wet tea bag and I don’t want this (no matter how fancy the tea bag is). I only want to be served tea by someone who knows significantly more about tea than I do. 

And now to tag. I think I’ll tag my nine most recent followers that seem to be real. Who are you all? This blog is not cohesively themed these days. So:

@retrocolaslasher

@scrunkley

@zoeloveconvers99

@stardewfarmboy

@creativemachine

@magicalbloke

@capulet4t

@aferalsquirrel

  @houseofflies