#anne shirley pack

[reeveskryze]

Shirley Anne Bingham Scene Pack Doctor Who

[hiswhiteknight]

Unbelievably Outlandish - Part 12

Summary: Before starting down a new crossroads, the Reader goes onto an adventure of literary traveling. Suddenly tossed into an unbelievable story that has swept the world, The Outlander Series itself. How will a twenty first century woman survive?

Note: It has been a super long time since I've posted, like a year or more. I'm going to try to post weekly, but it depends on my schedule. As for a tag list, I'll be starting a new one – please send me a message to be added to the tag list. I don't always get to look through comments, so please message me.

Note Note: I own no characters, except reader, clearly this is based off the lovely book series Outlander by Diana Gabaldon and tv show. This follows more the tv show, but it’s far from accurate. I’m going to try to get better with using less proper English, but who knows maybe I’ll get into Scottish slang.

Pairing: Jamie Fraser x Female Reader

Words: 2700 (SO LONG)

Warning: Angst, playfulness, cursing, slow start

It turned out, in Angus's mind, the dog turned out to be a good distraction for you. It kept you from running around because you found yourself always training the dog. She was an angelic thing, who always got into some kind of trouble along the way. Your whole life you've been much of a rule follower, but as of recently you were finding you had a lot in common with the dog.

With this being said, you have yet to find a name you'd like for her. Often you found yourself filling the boredom by naming old fictional characters you loved when you remember the character Gilbert Blythe from Anne of Green Gables. Outside from being incredibly charming, he was intelligent, kind, and had patience and devotion for the ones he loved. You imagined you had a lot in common with Anne Shirley or you hope you did. And with that thought, you named the dog Blythe.

Jamie enjoyed watching you work with the mischievous creature. He could tell this was the first time you were filled with joy since you arrived in Scotland, "Why don't you go over and talk to the girl," Murtagh said from next to him.

He shook out of his daze, acting like he wasn't doing anything weird, "I like my bullocks, thank you."

Murtagh shook his head, "She wouldn't have that mutt if it wasn't for you, you know."

The men continue to work around and pack things away, "You and I both know she is a stubborn woman, if she wanted that dog enough she would have got it without myself or Ned mentioning a word."

"Coward," Murtagh whispered to Jamie.

"Damn right," he chuckled back.

You were working on the pups reactivity and word commands. While growing up you didn't get to have a pet, but your mother told you about when she raised dogs as a child. Your family moved around a lot, so having a pet wasn't in the cards. "Don't get too comfortable girl, we're going to be off soon," Angus barked at you from afar.

You turned around losing the smile on your face. With the time being away from the castle, you still hadn't earned much trust and you most definitely didn't give the men much energy. Outside of the pup, you were like a empty soul and it was coming to be more evident with every passing day. The dog plopped herself next to you watching Angus with her tongue out. Even Blythe was better respected and well liked by the men, even Angus though he'd deny it if anyone commented. Their acceptance of the dog made you more tolerant to their attitude and patriarchal manner. "Yes master," you bow.

"It's nice you are starting to learn your manners," he smirked back while making gestures towards the men.

With a deep inhale and low tolerance of attitude today you started to trudge towards your horse, "It was sarcasm, idiot," you grumbled.

He appeared to have the same tolerance of my attitude, "Watch your tongue girl or you'll get it cut off," Angus advanced forward while gripping his dagger.

Jamie and Murtagh were about to make a move when another man's voice appeared, "Everything alright miss," a British voice caught your attention.

Angus directed an aggressive response to the man. You turned to look at the man and in your daze started to register things about this man. He had a proper accent, boots, and his hair read a gentleman. He was clearly a British soldier and he could mean serious trouble. You turned to look at Jamie for a split second before charming a smile, "Excuse me sir," you asked, ignoring the comments from the other man to rile this man. This was not the time and place.

You could tell the tension with Dougal increased. He didn't trust what you would say, "I was asking if you were alright," he stepped forward again, ignoring the men behind you.

"Oh, I'm sorry you had to hear all that, sir. You shouldn't have had to hear a lady speak out of tune like that. It was very unbecoming of me," you looked embarrassed. Let's hope your acting skills are up to par. You ignored Murtagh mutter unbecoming to make fun of you, "It's just Angus here is a very, very, very," you paused to look at him, "Very distant cousin." You turn back to smile at the officer, "I sometimes gets so overwhelmed by his voice and tone I just lash out. I apologize," you put you hand on your heart. The dog looked up at you oddly, not recognizing your behaviors.

He smiled at you, not acknowledging the grumbling Scots behind you, "Not necessary, my lady I understand quite well actually." He bent down to scratch the puppy sitting in front of you, "I'm sorry your accent."

You scratch the back of you neck, "Right, I must sound so improper. I'm Y/N O'Mulligian. I came to visit some family here from the colonies at my brother's request. He said I could use some real life hard work. He likes to call me a debutante," you sent him a teasing smile.

Responding well to your story, he rises and smiles at you. A relief was lifted off your shoulders, you were almost past this moment when Dougal interrupted, "Enough," he shouted, "She is the guest of the clan MacKenzie and her business is none of yours." You clearly spoke too soon because the officers defenses shot back up.

"So off you go," Angus finished.

You had to stop yourself from rolling your eyes, "Are you sure you are alright, miss," he looked unshaking at you. He clearly felt so much privilege he did not care remotely about the strapping Scottish men standing around him. You wanted to smack yourself in the forehead how stupid these men had to be to not recognize the importance of this one man.

Dougal looked as if he was going to fight the man. You put your arm on his bicep to stop him, "Of course, good sir," you smile, "It's nice to know chivalry is not dead. I have more hard work to learn as you can see, it was very nice meeting you."

"Pleasure is all mine," he smiled back before frowning around the man watching this moment. He backed away into the blacksmith area to continue his work.

A minute passed by and you felt a firm grip on your arm drag you towards your horse, "It's best you didn't speak," Dougal scolded in your ear.

Anger surged through your body and it took every fiber of your being to say nothing. But as you were shoved onto your horse, you looked in the direction of the soldier and back at Jamie. You knew if you yelled it'd bring attention to Jamie, a fugitive to the English Army.

You continue to seethe on the ride. Blythe sat up, doing her best to see over the horses head to look ahead. "What's the dog's name," Jamie trotted next to you.

"Blythe," you muttered directly.

"What a cute English name," he emphasized on one word of his sentence.

You pulled back on your horse and halted, "Excuse me?"

He chose to stop with you, trying to not say directly what he'd like to say. It's been odd between you and Jamie. You weren't sure if you were pushing him away out of anger or fear, but none the less at this moment it appeared to be anger, "Nothing, it's a cute name."

A sarcastic laugh left your mouth, "No, no, you had a tone," the man halt to watch another scene unfold, "You clearly have something you want to add, some hidden message you feel you want to hide. Say it."

"Nothing, you seem to just like the English a bit more than an Irish Woman from the colonies I thought would," he said like his words meant nothing. It didn't matter the fact that maybe he felt jealous or he had a right to comment on any intention or likes you have. That comment engulfed your whole body into volcano, hell fire fiery.

Heat was written all over your face and Murtagh didn't have enough time cool down your fire with rationality, "The boy is just saying, you were awfully chummy with the Brit," Angus chimed in, "like a girl in heat."

And there goes Mt. St. Helen, "Un-Fucking believable, do you know how fucking dumb you are, like every single on of you are just egg head fucking dumb," you scream enough to make the echo quake the woods around you.

"Lass," Ned sent a warning your way.

Tears started to brim your eyes and Jamie knew he'd set you up to fail again. You point to Ned, clearly a man of reason, "That man back there," you continued to yell, "Was an English Officer out patrolling." You looked to Jamie and everything deflated in you. Everything from the past and the reality of your new world just collapsed in your soul, "I was trying to save you."

A sigh leaves your lips and you talk lightly while using your hands to emphasize your point, "Men are idiots and will always fall for charm, so I used mine to protect you all," you continued to go on, "Call me a hussy, I don't care. And that plan to charm the officer actually worked until you opened your trap, my lord," you bowed your head at Dougal. Something than broke in you, in that moment, you were exhausted at being angry. You had no more fight in you. You gave Jamie another look, "I was scared. I was trying to save you," you whisper.

Taking a deep breath, you dismounted from you horse, "Now where are you going," Angus shouted at you.

The anger stirred up again, spinning around to look at him, "To relieve myself, thank you," you speak loudly while stomping into the woods.

You knew what Dougal did to Jamie in the pubs and you weren't sure why. It wasn't much of your business, but you could see it chipping into Jamie. You were stuck again in your thoughts, give into this new world and let these people in or continue to bury who you knew you were inside a dark cave and never leave.

The ride to the next village was quiet, especially after finding Scottish men hung out on display. You wanted to vomit at the lack of humanity in the cruel act. If this was the normal the British did to Scots, I'm not all shocked of their lack of kindness and trust towards me. I'm sure I wasn't helping the matter either.

When you got to the pub, you chose to join in with the drinking. The owner made a bee line as Blythe trotted behind you and laid at your feet, "Lass, we do not let do-," he stopped mid sentence from the look you were giving him. You were sitting up straight, dead face.

"You were saying, sir," you answered curtly.

"What can I get for you miss," he finished instead.

"A pint of whatever, I am not picky," you said, resting your feet on the chair in front of you.

The men went a distance away from you, you imagine to process the thing they just witnessed. A man approached you with a smile on your face and you shake your head putting your other foot on a chair and shoving it away from your table. He quickly turn around, "You'd make more friends if you weren't so prickly."

Murtagh patted at the dog, "My expression and acts are nothing but kind, sir." He shook his head, "Plus, I don't need any more friends when I only need you."

He chuckles, looking at Jamie, "It was a kind thing you did with the soldier. I'll be the only one to admit, that was a good eye you have."

"Don't think much of it, it was also self preservation because I'm not a exactly the kind British soldiers have a keen sense to protect," the man brought you your pint and you started to drink while you viewed in your surroundings.

He pointed at you, "You like everyone to think you're this cold hearted she witch."

"Maybe I am those things," you said like it didn't bother me to have that reputation.

Murtagh shook his head, "You are quite the opposite lass and the only person you are hurting are you." You roll your eyes sighing as he looks at your with a smirk, "And maybe a red headed boy who I suspect would do anything to see you smile once again." You sit up straighter as Murtagh stands while looking at you, while gesturing to Jamie. He lifts his eyebrows speaking you the truth, "Don't think I only talk to you because your good company. I get sick of seeing the boy mope around with his worry for you. A single smile from you can set his day."

You glare at him as your cheeks warm red, "Mind your business."

When he walks away, you sit and continue to process your reality and options. Every now and again you catch a glance at Jamie. You could see his expression and the change in him over the last few weeks. You stand walking your glass over to the bar with Blythe walking behind you. You could tell Dougal was about to start his speech. He wouldn't need Jamie today if you guessed right. Those hanging men were part of this community they didn't need to see Jamie's scars. You leaned against a pillar near Jamie, "You alright," you asked him catching eyes with Murtagh.

You shake off his knowing look. Jamie stood up straight looking at you bewildered from the sudden change in your demeanor, "Are you talking to me?"

"Don't make it a thing, just answer the question," you whisper.

"Aye, I'm fine," he whispers back, glancing at you for a second too long into silence. He clears his thoughts, "If you don't mind me asking, what changed your mind with speaking to me?"

You smirk, "Murtagh paid me."

He shook his head, "Sure," he was trying to hold back a smile. Something appeared to pop up in his head, "Look Deoiridh, I'm sorry about."

"No," you stopped him, "Jamie, I'm stubborn and I don't know what I'm doing. I'm not from a place like this, so."

You noticed a change in his eyes when you said his name instead of Mr. MacTavish. This is where he stopped you, "I only want to help."

"Does that mean you agree I'm stubborn because Murtagh implied I was prickly earlier and that's why I don't make friends," you say while trying to hold back a grin.

He shook his head making his red hair shake with it, “You see comments like that are a trap and I will not be stepping on that one.”

“Smart man,” you say to him.

“And now a compliment, I might think you are wanting to be my friend again,” he whispered back with a smirk.

You see Dougal getting ready to do your speech, “I should be getting out of here and up to my room. I shouldn’t be down here when,” you stopped to look at Dougal, “Well good night.”

“Goodnight Y/N,” he whispered back.

“And Jamie, just for transparency sake, the jury is still out if we are friends,” he paused appearing to hold his breath. You offer a small smile, “I need you to walk over to Murtagh and tell him I was nice then I'll consider being your friend. You know for the sake of proving Murtagh wrong. It's the price you have to pay for my friendship.” And before he can respond, you and Blythe make your way upstairs.

[lilithslittleworld]

Character list!! (Requests are open)

Hello all! I'm compiling my first masterlist (I'm pretty new to all of this tbh) but I thought I'd do a little overview of what characters I write about/with and in what areas!

Divergent series:

Four (Tobias Eaton): fluff, angst, one shots, headcanons, smut

Tris: fluff, angst, one shots, headcanons, smut

Peter Hayes (SOO underrated imo): fluff, angst, one shots, headcanons, smut

Christina: fluff, one shots, headcanons, some smut.

Probably anyone else upon request unless I really dislike them.

Will: fluff, one shots, headcanons, and some smut.

Harry Potter universe:

Harry Potter: fluff, one shots, headcanons, smut

Weasleys: Ron, Ginny, Fred, and George: all fluff, one shots, headcanons, angst, and smut

Tom Riddle: some fluff,one shots, headcanons, smut, and angst.

Hermione Granger: fluff, headcanons, one shot, and smut.

Luna Lovegood: fluff, headcanons, one shots, and smut.

Draco Malfoy (sometimes): angst, smut, one shots, and headcanons.

Marauders era: Remus Lupin and Sirius Black: fluff, angst, smut, one shots, and headcanons.

Twilight saga:

Bella Swan: fluff, headcanons, one shots, and smut.

Cullens: Jasper, Alice, Edward (sometimes), and Carlisle upon request. All: fluff, angst, one shots, and headcanons. Smut: Alice, Jasper, and sometimes Edward and Carlise

Quileutes/Pack: Jacob, Jared, Sam (sometimes), Embry, Quil, Paul, Leah, and Seth (only fluff, absolutely no smut unless it's in the future aka everyone is an adult) All: fluff, angst, one shots, and headcanons. Smut: Jacob, Jared, Quil, Embry, Leah, Paul and sometimes Sam, sometimes.

Top Gun Fandom

Maverick: fluff, angst, headcanons, one shots, and smut.

Rooster: fluff, angst, headcanons, one shots, and smut.

Hangman: fluff, angst, headcanons, one shots, and smut.

Phoenix: fluff, angst, headcanons, one shots, and smut.

Bob: fluff, headcanons, and one shots.

The Hunger Games Series

Katniss Everdeen: fluff, angst, headcanons, one shots, and smut.

Peeta Mellark: fluff, angst, headcanons, one shots, and smut.

Gale Hawthorne: fluff, angst, headcanons, one shots, and smut.

Finnick Odair: fluff, angst, headcanons, one shots, and smut.

Anne With An 'E' Series

Anne Shirley Cuthbert: fluff, headcanons, one shots, agnst.

Gilbert Blythe: fluff, angst, headcanons, and oneshots.

Diana Barry: fluff, headcanons, one shots, and angst.

Jerry Baynard: fluff, headcanons, one shots, and agnst.

Cole Mackenzie: fluff, headcanons, and one shots.

Star Wars Universe

Anakin Skywalker: fluff, angst, headcanons, one shot, and smut

Padmé Amidala: fluff, angst, headcanons, one shots, and smut

Obi-Wan Kenobi: fluff, angst, headcanons, and one shots

Princess Leia: fluff, angst, headcanons, and one shots.

Han Solo: fluff, angst, headcanons, and one shots. Some smut

Luke Skywalker: angst, headcanons, fluff, one shots, and some smut.

R2D2 and C3P0: purely cute interactions between them i love them

Kylo Ren: fluff, angst, headcanons, one shots, SMUTTTTT.

[jomiddlemarch]

And each slow dusk a drawing-down of blinds

Walter had died a week ago and Gilbert didn’t want to go home. He sat at his desk and pretended to himself there was another prescription to write or that he’d told John Campbell to call round when he could, there might be something Gilbert could do for his bad hip, something he’d seen in a medical journal, the receipt for a liniment that truly was better than the salve old Mrs. Thelma Morrison stirred up of an evening, more efficacious and less likely to advertise his arrival with the rank scent of ramps crushed in tallow.

It was a lie.

There was no work yet to be done that would keep him, unless there was some queer version of mercy at play that would deliver a fisherman with a hook deep in his palm, calling for finesse and patience, the lamp lit against the dark.

It was quiet, the voices in the harbor hushed or still, and there was nothing more for him to do but admit the truth.

He simply didn’t want to go home.

It was not that the house would be empty, though that would be its own grief he knew. To go home to Ingleside and find no lamp lit against the dusk, no Anne on the sofa with a basket of mending and a book marked with a frayed scrap of ribbon, no Susan banging about in the kitchen, no Rilla dandling Jims on her knee, cheeks pink with a self-righteous spite as she complained about her Junior Reds, so much like her mother had been at the same age. The rooms all too big, the silence too loud.

And agony and yet, a surcease.

The house was full. Anne and her suffering, her grey eyes dark, her hair dressed very simply, beyond any attempt at vanity, drifted from the sitting room to their bedroom, aimless or beyond settling. Susan, cooking up whatever she thought might tempt one of them to take more than a few bites, catching herself about to mention Walter every third sentence, Miss Cornelia coming by with a basket of baked goods Gilbert would bring on his rounds to prevent wasting the food that no one in the house would eat. Rilla with her sisters, Nan and Di home from the college, all three reminding Gilbert of nothing more than a wilted nosegay, Nan and Rilla’s eyes reddened from weeping, Di’s lips bitten, chapped, her bright hair bundled back in an old-fashioned snood she’d have previously mocked in amused derision, the littlest Meredith girl sitting beside them, too thin, too pale. She’d been in love with Walter, that was clear now, and it was no longer charming or worth shaking his head over ruefully.

So many broken hearts. None he could fix.

Jem didn’t know yet, nor Shirley. He and Anne had agreed not to cable or write either of them. There was nothing they could do but grieve for their brother but that grief might be a distraction they could ill afford. The girls hadn’t argued as he’d expected and it was Rilla who’d spoken up, saying Let him be alive a little longer then while Nan crumpled up the letter she’d been writing to Jerry Meredith.

She would have been telling him about Walter. She wouldn’t risk him, nor the rare chance that he’d come across Shirley or Jem and mention Walter’s death. It was impossible to think Jerry would simply run into Jem in the trenches, except that stranger things had happened and Walter, his inquisitive little boy with his mother’s eyes, had been lost to them. His name on a telegram was all they’d get unless some officer in his battalion had the wherewithal to pack up his few remaining personal belongings and send them back to Ingleside on a ship that didn’t get sunk crossing the Atlantic.

Impossible.

Real.

His office was a place of relative respite. Walter had spent little time there, not interested in doctoring, not like Jem or Di, and so he couldn’t haunt it. There were charts to review and journals to leaf through, and no one came who wanted him to be anything else other than Doctor Blythe.

Not Dad. Not Gil dear.

His own parents, thank God, were dead. Marilla too and Mrs. Rachel. 

The clock ticked. He’d have to leave soon enough.

The face that peered in through the door after the briefest, smartest rap, was not one he’d have ever expected.

“I was sent to fetch you, but we can go the long way back,” Mary Vance said. In the failing light of evening, her queer, pale eyes gleamed like the stones he’d liked to skip across Willowmere when he’d idled on the way home from Green Gables. There was a sturdiness to her shoulders and the set of her chin that had become reassuring to a man who now lived in a house of wraiths. She was twenty-three, just a year younger than Jem, a woman grown and not a girl, though she’d no pretense to vanity in her person or tone. Practical and imperturbable, she was one of the few people he could think of he needn’t take care of.

“Mrs. Blythe sent you?” he asked. He tried not to hope Anne had worried enough to speak of it.

“Mrs. Elliott,” Mary shrugged. She knew he would be disappointed, but she wouldn’t lie. “Said you’d soon be needing a doctor yourself if you missed your supper and she doesn’t think highly of Susan’s fish pie in any case.”

“Fish pie,” Gilbert repeated, getting up from his chair and reaching for his overcoat. He ought to be made of sterner stuff, the autumn only just beginning, but he’d been cold at the marrow since he’d learned of his son’s death.

“Mackerel. Had a good catch, down at the cove. I s’pose old Susan thought as long as it was pie, you’d like it,” Mary replied. She smiled, not coaxing but wry, suddenly reminded him of his mother. Neither was much given to effusiveness or cossetting.

“Susan’s not old and it’s not kind to say it,” Gilbert said.

“But it’s not too rude to hear it,” Mary countered. “She was born old, Miss Baker, and if you told her that, she’d be proud of it.”

He laughed then, a startled, almost choked sound he hadn’t known he was capable of, but she’d been so apt and so matter-of-fact…

“You’re quite observant, you’d make a good doctor,” he said.

“Maybe. Not for the likes of me, all that education. And I’m too blunt,” she replied.

“A nurse then,” Gilbert said.

“The War won’t last forever,” she said. “When it’s over, it won’t all be an agony. Sickbeds and wounds to be stitched. There’ll be other lives to live. Work to do. Dreams, for the ones who put stock in such things.”

“Not for everyone,” he said. His boy, gone away, his voice silenced. It hurt worse than little Joy, who’d never asked just one more question, Papa, at bedtime, before Jem had convinced him to call Gil Dad or Father, who’d never made him notice the dappled light of the woods or made him laugh calming Rilla down from her rage at being called Spider.

“No,” Mary said and Gilbert braced himself for the consolation. The balance. Walter died with honor. He’d had his poem read round the world. He’d made his peace with it. 

It happened. People died young.

Ruby Gillis.

Kenneth West.

Captain Jim’s lost Margaret.

Walter Blythe.

“Mrs. Elliott will have my hide if I don’t get you back before she leaves and Marshall gets antsy left to his own devices,” Mary said. She pulled a very large, very clean white handkerchief from the pocket of her coat and handed it to him. “But we can still take the long way back. I’ll manage the driving.”

“Marigold needs a light hand,” Gilbert said. 

“I’ll manage, Doctor Blythe. You needn’t worry about me,” Mary said. She gave him another sharp look. “I’ll take the hankie back before we’re at Ingleside. Mrs. Blythe and old Susan won’t be bothered. And Rilla’s war-baby said a half-dozen new words today, so they’re in decent spirits. It’s just the pie you’ve got to choke down.”

[librarylexicon]

Writing Patterns

I was tagged by @freyafrida. Thanks!!

Rules: list the first line of your last 10 (posted) fics and see if there's a pattern!

Ten? TEN?!?! Well, I am both a slow writer and a chronic fandom hopper, so I think I'll have to dig a few years back for some of these. Let's go!

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1) Family Crisis (Batman): The call came through barely a minute after the destruction of the clock tower.

2) Flight Mode (Batman): Seventeen-year-old Tim Drake sat motionless in his aeroplane seat, face turned towards the large window beside him.

3) Home Assignment (Batman): Dick Grayson was running on fumes.

[Note to Self omitted here because it's an early version of Flight Mode, so its first line is very similar]

4) All the Corners That Are Left (Batman): Dick Grayson – brother, mentor, Batman – woke early from a restless sleep to find a message from his father that read: Change of plans.

5) When Things Go Wrong (Narnia): This is a story about something that happened long ago when your great-great-grandfather was a child.

6) Lost Boy (Rise of the Guardians x Peter Pan): The tiny attic bedroom was stifling.

7) At Home, They Call Me Tintin (Tintin): Captain Haddock and Tintin's first meeting had been unquestionably odd.

[Two anonymous fics omitted here...]

8) Shirley Not (Anne of Green Gables series): Shirley Blythe had been born lucky.

9) Happy Eighteenth (Harry Potter): Her birthday was on the thirtieth of January.

10) Patience (Harry Potter): Come with me, and I can take you on the next great adventure …

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Well, aside from 5 (where I was riffing off the original book) and 10 (where I tried a weird first person style for... some reason), there might be some patterns.

I usually like to introduce the main character, and seem to be more interested in defining the first scene by what it's about than where it's set (with the exception of 6). You won't find nature descriptions or dark and stormy nights here! I also like how I introduced the theme of the whole story in 8.

My first sentences also tend to be shorter rather than longer, and are generally simple "there was" kind of statements rather than packed with action or complicated clauses. Interesting! And, looking at the as-yet-unpublished fic I'm working on right now, it also fits a few of the patterns I uncovered here ;)

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I'm very bad at remembering which of my mutuals post fics. Sorry! But I'll tag a few people (zero obligation, of course): @silent-silver-slip @maychorian @they-reap-what-we-sow @catkin-morgs-kookaburralover and anyone else who sees this who wants to do it!

[burninghillgirl]

fave books please i’m bad at reading not much seems to grip me unless i’m reading the wrong stuff !!

i'm used to read so much but school really stamped that out of me so i get how you feel dw! i just finished the master and margarita by Mikhail Bulgakov which was brilliant and i didn't get bored! the names and storylines are a bit convoluted but it's very good.

some books that got me back into reading because they were so easy to read was Norwegian wood by Haruki Murakami, kitchen by banana Yoshimoto, my year of rest and relaxation by otessa moshfegh, the haunting of hill house by Shirley Jackson, perfume by Patrick Süskind . They're all fairly popular books across booktok and tumblr too so easy to start with.

I'd recommend starting with children's classics too as they are gripping, entertaining and aimed at children starting to discover reading.

Gulliver's travels, Robinson crueso, Anne of green gables!! (I loved these when i was like 13) what Katy did (i also loved these as a kid) etc. basically browse the penguin classic section of well known "children's" books.

Obvs i know adults read them and love them but they are books I remember my parents giving me when i first started to love books :) my attention span isn't great anymore and being a writer too if a book doesn't grip me in the first couple of pages I don't read it. Ik it's harsh but i am very picky lol.

When I'm going to Greece I'm going to pack books I've been meaning to read that are in my bookshelf:

The sea by John Banville

The good thief by Hannah Tinti

Boy parts by Eliza Clark (bought this bc of tiktok too lol)

Water for elephants by Sara Gruen

A lover's discourse by Xiaolu Guo

Letters to a young poet by Rainer Maria Rilke

The girl with the pearl earring by Tracy Chevalier

[denimbex1986]

'Ever since Russell T Davies announced his return to Doctor Who, there's been anticipation in the air. We've all been waiting, it has now become clear, for The Giggle.

We can't say too much about the third and final 60th anniversary special, which will see out David Tennant's Fourteenth Doctor and Catherine Tate's Donna Noble - not least because a chunk of it is still being kept under wraps until Saturday night. But, oh, we're in for a treat - a beautiful, colourful, chaotic, onslaught of a treat.

After the Doctor and Donna returned to Earth in the final scenes of Wild Blue Yonder, The Giggle picks up with the world in chaos. As Bernard Cribbins declared in his final scene as Wilfred Mott, "It's everybody. It's everything. They're all going mad."

Why? Well, the answer has to do with one man. Neil Patrick Harris makes his Doctor Who debut as The Toymaker, an iconic classic villain from the early years of the sci-fi, taking over from Michael Gough. Davies has previously said that Harris had "never heard" of Doctor Who before he was cast (an impressive feat in itself). It's an astonishing thought when you see him on screen, stealing the show with all the joy, wit, swagger and unnerving-ness of an actor who's done this a thousand times before.

Of course, there are some incredible returning stars, including Ruth Madeley as Shirley Anne Bingham and Jemma Redgrave as Kate Stewart - comebacks that pack a punch. "How do we fight the human race?" Kate asks the Doctor in a genuine moment of horror. It goes without saying that Tennant and Tate are spectacular as always - hilarious in one moment, tear-jerking in the next. We see new sides to Tennant's Fourteenth Doctor - yep, the man is still surprising us after all this time.

But all of this would be futile without the story they've been handed. The Giggle grabs you in minute one and doesn't let you go. Visually, it's beautiful. Audibly, it's beautiful (all hail Murray Gold). It feels like old-school RTD, like the returning showrunner is flexing muscles he hasn't used in a long while, harking back to older tales in obvious and less obvious ways. But it also feels fresh and bigger. And not a moment is wasted.

It's not really that Doctor Who has a new budget (although that doesn't hurt), or that it's beaming out to a bigger audience than ever (also doesn't hurt). The boundaries of the show when it comes to the storytelling have been pushed further and further and, from what Davies has said about the Christmas special and beyond, it sounds like that's certainly not stopping here.

There are more magical moments that have to stay unmentioned and still so much to see, including the next regeneration and a whole new Doctor to meet in the form of the glorious Ncuti Gatwa - undoubtedly, the most important part of the special. But if it's knocked out of the park like the rest of the episode is, this could be one for the ages.

It's not an easy skill to muster up a genuine sense of danger in Doctor Who - after all, the Doctor always wins, right? Right?! But with a writer like Davies, an actor like Tennant and a story like this, when we're standing on the precipice of a whole new age for Doctor Who, who knows what will happen?

See you Saturday night for the show. Allons-y!'

[yadavvipul]

Top Books for Horror Lovers, Young Readers, and Fans of Khushwant Singh

Books have the power to transport us into different worlds—some filled with horror and mystery, others with inspiring real-life stories, and some designed to spark the imagination of young readers. In this blog, we will explore the best horror fiction books, must-read Khushwant Singh books, and a selection of the best children's books by age 13 to help you find your next great read.

Terrifyingly Good Horror Fiction Books

If you love spine-chilling tales that keep you on the edge of your seat, these horror fiction books should be on your reading list:

1. The Shining by Stephen King

A psychological horror masterpiece, this novel follows a struggling writer and his family as they experience terrifying events in a haunted hotel.

2. Dracula by Bram Stoker

The classic vampire novel that introduced Count Dracula to the world. This book remains one of the greatest horror fiction books of all time.

3. The Haunting of Hill House by Shirley Jackson

This eerie story of a group investigating a haunted mansion is a must-read for fans of supernatural horror.

4. Pet Sematary by Stephen King

A chilling tale about a cemetery that brings the dead back to life—with terrifying consequences.

Must-Read Khushwant Singh Books

Khushwant Singh was one of India's most celebrated authors, known for his sharp wit, historical narratives, and insightful commentary. If you haven't yet explored his work, here are some of the best Khushwant Singh books to start with:

1. Train to Pakistan

One of the most famous Khushwant Singh books, this novel captures the horrors of Partition through a deeply moving story of love, violence, and survival.

2. The Company of Women

A thought-provoking novel that delves into relationships, desire, and the complexities of human emotions.

3. Delhi: A Novel

A mix of history and fiction, this book offers a gripping portrayal of Delhi's past, narrated by a journalist who has lived through its transformations.

4. Why I Supported the Emergency

A fascinating collection of essays where Singh explains his controversial stance on India's political history.

For those who appreciate historical and political narratives, Khushwant Singh books are a great addition to any bookshelf.

Best Children's Books by Age 13

For young readers, books play a crucial role in shaping their imagination, knowledge, and values. Here are some of the best children's books by age 13 that offer adventure, life lessons, and excitement:

1. Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone by J.K. Rowling

A magical adventure that introduces readers to Harry Potter's world, filled with friendship, bravery, and thrilling moments.

2. The Hobbit by J.R.R. Tolkien

One of the best children's books by age 13, this epic fantasy follows Bilbo Baggins on a quest filled with adventure, dragons, and treasure.

3. Percy Jackson & The Olympians: The Lightning Thief by Rick Riordan

A fantastic blend of Greek mythology and modern adventure, this book is perfect for young teens who love action-packed stories.

4. Anne of Green Gables by L.M. Montgomery

A heartwarming story about a spirited orphan named Anne, who brings joy and mischief to the lives of those around her.

5. Wonder by R.J. Palacio

This inspiring novel tells the story of a boy with facial differences and his journey to acceptance, making it one of the best children's books by age 13 for promoting empathy and kindness.

Conclusion

Whether you're looking for spine-chilling horror fiction books, insightful Khushwant Singh books, or engaging stories from the best children's books by age 13, there's a perfect read for everyone. Books have the power to entertain, educate, and inspire, so pick one today and dive into a new adventure!

[flapperdame16]

1960s Movies Id on't care for

1960

Home from the Hill             Robert mitchum, Eleanor Parker

Inherit the wind                    Spencer Tracy

Midnight Lace                      Doris Day, Rex Harrison

Let’s make love                   Marilyn Monroe,

Ocean’s 11                            the rat pack

The Grass is Greener     Cary Grant, Robert Mitchum, Deborah Kerr, Jean Simmons D: Stanley Donen

The Unforgiven               Audrey Hepburn, Burt Lancaster, John Saxon D: John Huston

1961

The Children’s Hour           Audrey Hepburn, Shirley MacLaine, James Garner D: William Wyler

The Deadly Companions   Maureen o’hara brian keith

1962

The Lion                                William Holden, Capucine

Mr. Hobbs takes a vacation   James Stewart, Maureen O’Hara

Boys’ night out                                    Kim Novak, Tony Randall, James Garner

1963

Irma la Douce                      Jack Lemmon, Shirley Maclaine D: Billy Wilder

Spencer’s Mountain            Henry Fonda, Maureen O’Hara

The VIPS                               Maggie smith, Richard burton, Elizabeth Taylor, Rod Taylor, Orson welles

Toys in the attic                   Dean Martin, Gene Tierney, Geraldine Page

1964

A Hard day’s night (CC)                    beatles

Father Goose                                        Cary Grant, Leslie Caron

My fair lady                                         Audrey Hepburn, rex Harrison

Night of the iguana                             Ava Gardner, Richard Burton, Deborah Kerr

The Americanization of Emily         James Garner, Julie Andrews

1965

The Great Race*                                 Natalie Wood, Tony Curtis, Jack Lemmon

The Rounders                       Henry Fonda, Glen Ford

The Art of Love                   Dick Van Dyke, James Garner, Angie Dickenson

36 hours                                                Eva Marie Saint, James Garner, Rod Taylor

The nanny                            bette davis

1966

7 Women                              Anne Bancroft JOHN FORD

A man for all seasons        

Any Wednesday                 Jane Fonda, Jason Robards, Dean Jones

Arabesque                             Gregory peck, Sophia Loren

Blow up (CC)

Penelope                                Natalie Wood

The Chase                             Robert Redford, Jane Fonda, Marlon Brando

Torn Curtain                         Julie Andrews, Paul Newman HITCHCOCK

The sand pebbles                 steve mcqueen

1967

Thoroughly Modern Millie                 Julie Andrews, Carol Channing, Mary Tyler Moore

Guess who’s coming to dinner          Katharine Hepburn spencer Tracy

The graduate. Katharine ross, Dustin Hoffman, anne Bancroft

1968

Madigan                                                Henry Fonda, Richard Widmark

The lion in winter                 Katharine Hepburn, Peter O’Toole

The Thomas crown affair  Faye Dunaway, Steve McQueen

Bullit                                                      Steve McQueen

The legend of Lylah Clare                 Kim Novak,

Romeo and Juliet (CC)

Bandolero!                                            James Stewart, Dean Martin, Raquel Welsh

1969

The wild bunch                    William Holden, Ernest Borgnine

The prime of miss jean Brodie          Maggie smith Robert stephens

[sporadiceagleheart]

Today's joy with Rachel Joy Scott Friday edits is Rest In Peace to those famous stars & angels Verne Troyer, Richard Griffiths, Alan Rickman, Richard Harris, Michael Gambon, John Hurt, Robbie Coltrane, Helen McCrory, Roberts Blossom, Billie Burke, Frank Sutton, Jim Nabors, Judy Garland, Margaret Hamilton, Clara Blandick, Shirley Temple and baby Leroy, Paul Grant, Leslie Phillips, Robert Hardy, Timothy Bateson, Terence Bayler, Robert Knox, Sam Beazley, Paul Ritter, Dave Legeno, Peter Cartwright, Derek Deadman, Hazel Douglas, Alfred Burke, Jimmy Gardner, Elizabeth Spriggs, Bob Newhart, Tom Poston, Dean Martin, Mary Frann, Betty White, Rik Mayall, Brian Nickels, Jerry Reed, Matthew Perry, Raymond Burr, Mary Ann Jackson, Dorothy DeBorba, Mary Kornman, Mildred Kornman, Peaches Jackson, Peggy Cartwright, Darla Jean Hood, Jean Darling, Peggy Montgomery, Bob Barker, Lucille Ricksen, Michael Kenneth Williams, Pat E. Johnson, Richard Burton, Cyril Cusack, Roger Lloyd Pack, Peter Frye, John Boswell, James Walker, Shirley Rosemary Stelfox, Shirley Jean Rickert, Janet Key, June Marlowe, Virginia Weidler, Jane Withers, Peter Michael Falk, Bruce Kirby, Mike Lally, John Finnegan, Robert Culp, Vito Scotti, Val Avery, Fred Draper, Alan Fudge, Gene Wilder, Jack Albertson, Richard Belzer, Richard Bull, Jerome Guardino, Bill Zuckert, Steven Gilborn, Ed McCready, Paul Carr, James Avery, Parley Edward Baer, Sherman Hemsley, Ellen Albertini Dow, Carl Reiner, Alan Wolf Arkin, Michael Jeter, Debbie Lee Carrington, James Caan, Ed Asner, Ana Ofelia Murguía, Paul Newman, Madge Sinclair, Robert Guillaume, Mary Ethel Gregory, Michael Landon, Katherine MacGregor, Kevin Hagen, Dabbs Greer, John Heard, Leonard Stone, John Candy, Victor Edwin French, Robin Williams, Peter Fonda, Geoffrey Palmer, Olivia Newton-John, Eve Arden, Rose Joan Blondell, Alice Ghostley, Darrell Zwerling, Dody Goodman, Lance Reddick, Andy Griffith, Don Knotts, Anissa Jones, Bridgette Andersen, Dominique Dunne, Samantha Reed Smith, Heather and Judith Barsi, Fred Rogers, Olivia Twenty Dahl, Roald Dahl, Sofie Magdalene Dahl, Walter Elias Disney, Ruth Flora Disney, Denise Marie Nickerson, Louis XVII, Lois Janes, Marie Thérèse de France, Christopher Plummer, Eazy-E, Peter Cartwright, John William "Johnny" Carson,

[thebirdandhersong]

Why don't my taste buds like pumpkin spice lattes?? On paper they're amazing but they mess with my stomach

Ecclesiastes (read during devotions today) + "hevel" + how this is not a book meant to instill despair but to correct our vision so that we're looking through eternity's eyes

When and how am I going to get this inklings story done?

Thank God nothing happened with the summer boy because I could not laugh with him and that, as Anne Shirley would say, is a problem

FORGOT TO PACK A LUNCH

"Why are you awake" because brain awake and ADHD has helpfully supplied 2000 topics to think about. It's multiple choice tonight and I got 4 things on the mind

[jomiddlemarch]

That it alone is high fantastical

“Oh, Mother, you’ll never guess! You’ll never guess in century of guessing!” Rilla cried out, sounding so much as she had as a little girl, for a moment, Anne could convince herself the War had never happened and that somewhere in Rainbow Valley, Walter sat writing a crown of sonnets in his leather-bound journal, his face dappled by the light, back braced against the bole of a birch tree, his grey eyes unfocused as he searched for his next word.

There was still a white stone in the graveyard. Shirley was in Toronto, having refused (albeit politely) to return to Glen St. Mary, much to Susan’s dismay, and Jem walked with a pronounced limp, his uneven gait announcing him as much as Mary’s voice.

There was a mystery there, Jem and Mary Vance, but Anne couldn’t see any way through it and Gilbert, lying beside her in bed, both of them tired but sleepless, told her not to try. Jem had seemed less removed, less falsely cheerful lately, and had begun talking about the medical course again, perhaps a specialty in obstetrics, a hospital practice. As far away from men dying in battle as he can get, Gilbert had observed and Anne had recalled Joyce’s little face, white as a mayflower blossom, and held her tongue.

Rilla, remarkably, given her exuberant entrance, had done the same in the absence of Anne’s response. Miss Oliver had left Ingleside some weeks ago, so there was no one to suggest Rilla either elaborate or calm herself, as her likeness to a whistling copper tea-kettle was increasingly pronounced.

“If I’ll never guess, dear, you must tell me,” Anne said. It was a relief that Rilla could still be the young girl she ought to be, for all that she wore Ken Ford’s diamond ring on her finger and was capable of a brisk, warm matronliness when it came to raising Jims, now reserved for the writing of letters to his new British stepmother and clucking over the missives she received.

“Faith Meredith has eloped!”

Anne did admit to herself she would never have guessed that, because for all her imagination, she wouldn’t have guessed something impossible.

“But, Rilla, Jem is with your father today, doing the Lowbridge rounds. Susan and I packed a lunch with plenty of pie for Dad and some of that flapjack Jem took to after being in England,” Anne said. He’d been in hospital in England, recovering from the injuries he’d sustained at the Front, in the prison camp, during his escape, none of which was spoken of. Only flapjack and stewed tea and how no cook in England was a patch on Susan and that you may tie to, uttered with some semblance of his old roguish humor.

“I didn’t say she married Jem, Mother!” Rilla exclaimed. Her cheeks were pink and her eyes were bright. She had a look of Gilbert at his most delighted about him, an expression Anne remembered from their childhood. Anne opened her mouth to speak but Rilla interrupted.

“It’s Bertie Shakespeare Drew! Faith Meredith is Mrs. Bertie Shakespeare!” Rilla said.

If Anne hadn’t already been sitting down, she would have, suddenly and gracelessly. As it was, the shirt she’d been mending fell from her lap.

“That’s—why, Rilla, are you sure?”

“I heard it directly from Mary Vance,” Rilla said, lifting a hand to stop Anne from speaking. “And Miss Cornelia Bryant. You know Miss Cornelia has no taste for gossip. Miss Cornelia’d heard it from Mrs. Meredith—”

“Poor Rosemary,” Anne said, before she could stop herself.

“Why poor Rosemary? I suppose they thought Faith and Jem would make a go of it, at least, perhaps Reverend Meredith and Mrs. Meredith did, but the War’s done funny things to people and Faith and Jem, they just didn’t fit any longer,” Rilla said. Sometimes, Anne felt Rilla reminded her of someone she couldn’t name and realized her youngest daughter spoke with the wisdom Anne’s own mother might have had. Plenty of folks in the Glen would find such a thought eerie, but Anne was comforted, for all that she ought to be the one offering a thoughtful explanation rather than receiving it.

“I suppose I meant the surprise, an elopement—”

“They must not have wanted to wait. Or were afraid someone would try to talk them out of it. Bertie’s mother maybe,” Rilla said.

Rosemary or her father, Anne thought. Jem, if he’d been given the chance, perhaps. Perhaps not, if Rilla was correct.

“Bertie Shakespeare Drew,” Anne said. “I remember when he was born. He’s just Jem’s age.”

“He’s not much like you remember him, Mother. He’s all tall and stalwart now and they say he’s going in for engineering, that he learned quite a bit in France, found he had a talent for that sort of thing. And his ears don’t stick out quite so much anymore,” Rilla said.

“There’re more things on heav’n and earth,” Anne said, mangling the quote a bit, fairly certain Rilla would not correct her. “D’you suppose Faith calls him Bertie? Or his full name—it’s quite a mouthful.”

Queenly Faith Meredith, the undisputed beauty of Glen St. Mary, who had a sense of humor but also a sense of herself as beyond any teasing, now to be Mrs. Bertie Shakespeare Drew. Anne smiled to herself and thought how Mary Vance would find a way to make Jem grin over it all. She’s lucky to get him, Mary would say, reversing the order the Glen would have assumed, and Mary, canny and unexpectedly kind, would have the right of it, perhaps.

Susan would be quite outraged and the pastry of her next pie might suffer for it, but Gilbert had always taken an unchristian glee in Susan’s outrage and wouldn’t mind the pastry being a bit heavier. It was still the best piecrust on Prince Edward Island, now that Mrs. Rachel Lynde was no longer living to give Susan a run for her money.

“Miss Cornelia said Faith was heard to call him Will, when she spoke to her parents. It’s after Shakespeare of course, and because he was so determined they marry,” Rilla said. 

“And because Faith wanted to,” Anne said. She wasn’t sure if she meant the elopement or the name, but it was all of a piece.

“Miss Cornelia said they’d gone to New York for their honeymoon and she hoped Faith didn’t come back with a bunch of silly Yankee airs but Mary and I didn’t think that was likely,” Rilla said, sitting down beside Anne, picking up the shirt and starting to sew.

“She didn’t come back from England any different, after all,” Rilla said.

“Except that she didn’t marry your brother,” Anne replied.

“D’you know, Mother, even without the War, I don’t think they’d ever have gone through with it, Faith and Jem,” Rilla said. “It was, how shall I put it, like a childhood fairy tale, the honorable knight and the maiden fair, all sorts of adventures they had in Rainbow Valley. They were always going to grow up. We all were.”

Not Walter, Anne’s heart said. Not Joyce.

“I’m glad of Ken’s name, anyway. And don’t worry, I wouldn’t elope for anything. I want our families around us, as many as we can get, even if we have to wait. We’re rather good at that,” Rilla said. She’d finished the one shirt and picked up another. She peered at it, frowned. “I can’t think what Dad does to his clothes—”

“I’ve made up a thousand stories to try to explain that and I still don’t think I’ve figured it out,” Anne said. “Some things, my darling girl, are beyond explanation.”

This one's for @freyafrida because I didn't manage to squeeze Faith/Bertie Shakespeare into my Jem/Mary fic...

[milsedits]

♡ if u save

[accholt]

anne with an E header

[dareusers]

ANNE WITH AN E + TAYLOR SWIFT LAYOUTS

icons by @scenticons @98edits @layoutsblue

headers by @schreavedits @womansxicons @editskitten @tswiftstuff @westworldits

[escritadeoutono]

série: Anne with an E | temporada 1 episódio 3