#hearing this quote as a teen (and still!!) was so important to me | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

scaranation · 2 years ago

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HELLOOO can u do one where scara and reader are best friends and scara likes reader but we’re superrrr oblivious and keeps complaining ab how we’re so alone to scara AND HE GETS SO JEALOUS WHENEVER WE START TALKING AB OUR NEW CRUSHES W HIM

THIS IS SO SWEET OMG shbdhfdhs but hear me out: reader being a super romantic person (like reading lots of ya novels and crushing on basically everyone ) AND SCARA TRYING TO ACT LIKE THE MALE LEADS READER LIKES BUT THEN READER STILL DOESNT REALISE SCARA’S FEELINGS ��😭

༊*·˚ 𝐒𝐄𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐃 𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐃 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐃𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐄

Pairing: Scaramouche x GN!reader

Content: fluff, pining, modern high school AU

You were constantly dreaming about a distant love you found amongst the pages of your romance novels, flitting around to find your Prince Charming. Scaramouche, your best friend, always felt like the second male lead - perhaps, it was time for him to take matters into his own hands.

Scaramouche was quite a contrary character - volatile, and highly irritable. Most people were surprised to see he was capable of an emotion other than smugness or annoyance, much less being able to display something as absurd as love. And yet, it was apparent to everyone except the object of his affections that he held you in his gaze with a certain tenderness - a tenderness you never noticed.

You, being heavily into romance novels, would constantly gush to your best friend about everything that made your heart flutter. You romanticised anything and anyone, swooning over a new crush almost every week. You were in love with the idea of being in love, and yet, you never saw the love coming from the one closest to you.

“Maybe I’m just destined to be single forever…” You sighed, collapsing onto Scaramouche’s bed. The summer heat clung to you like a second skin, sweat seeping into your collar.

“Can you turn on the fan? It’s so hot in here.” You whined, briefly lifting your head to watch as Scaramouche walked over to switch on the air conditioning.

“Did you get rejected?” He tossed out the question jokingly, despite him hoping for a very specific response.

“I don’t even know anymore… Do you still have ice cream in the freezer?” You rolled over, pressing your face into the mattress with yet another long sigh.

“Do I look like your butler?” Scaramouche, your best friend - and the pretentious prick most people hated - scoffed, rolling his eyes but going to fetch ice cream anyway.

“You’re the best…” You mumbled. Scaramouche prodded your cheek with the cold bowl, holding in his smile at seeing you sit up - your hair messy from rolling around.

“So, what happened with crush number what? Sixteen?”

“I was going to confess, but they looked nervous for some reason and just left before I could say anything. If they really wanted to reject me, they should’ve at least heard me out.” You took in a spoonful of ice cream, pouting.

Scaramouche stared. Perhaps him glaring at that crush of yours every chance he got had really worked in driving them off.

“It’s such a shame, I really wanted my first kiss to be with them today. It’s such a nice idea, you know? Kissing at the lockers after a heartfelt teen confession.” You sighed dreamily.

“You should be kissed and often, and by someone who knows how.” Scaramouche replied smoothly, although he felt his heartbeat shudder. You were always babbling about your romance novels, and so he’d read them too - memorised the important lines, studied the male leads’ behaviour. He’d quoted one just now, adrenaline leaping at the possibility you would’ve caught his subtle cue.

Your oblivious self did not. Or at least, you did - but didn’t.

“Oh, isn’t that from Gone with the Wind? I love that book! Did you finally read it?” You squealed excitedly.

“Yes, and it’s complete idiocy. Just as I expected.” Scaramouche rolled his eyes, looking away. His gaze flitted back to you quickly to scan for your reaction, his lips turning downwards at the lack of a blush on your face.

“Aww, did you enjoy it at least a little?”

“No, I should blame you for wasting my time.” Scaramouche feigned annoyance, but he didn't mind.

"It's such a good book though! How could you not?" You huffed, but changed the topic as your attention span stretched thin. Scaramouche chuckled at your behaviour, watching you in rapt attention as you continued rambling on about your love life.

He was conflicted. He enjoyed resting beside you and simply listening to you happily talk, but it filled him with sickening jealousy knowing you could make yourself love anyone but him.

When would you finally notice him?

The truth was, although Scaramouche was never one for literature, he’d somewhat enjoyed Gone with the Wind, in a roundabout way. He’d found himself in the alienated, self-proclaimed “dishonoured” character that was Rhett Butler. Despite the character’s cynical personality, he held an undying love for the heroine - although their relationship had failed due to his inability to express that love, and the heroine pining after another man. As much as Scaramouche hated to admit, it was a crude allegory of his current predicament. He was, irrevocably, the second male lead - either that, or a mere side character trapped forever in the friend zone. Your hyper-receptive behaviour towards others and obliviousness when it came to him was proof of that, and it was displayed now more clearly than ever.

Scaramouche’s hands clenched into fists as his usual mask of annoyance slipped into one of - miraculously - even deeper annoyance.

You’d found yourself infatuated with another person (or was it crush number nine for the second time?) and Scaramouche could barely contain his jealousy. He’d been dropping hints left and right, but for someone who spent most of their time immersed in romantic texts, you remained as ignorant as ever to his almost blatant advances. You’d been staring at your latest crush throughout class, barely even paying attention to what was going on.

"They're so dreamy..." You sighed, idly doodling the face of your aforementioned crush in the pages of your notebook.

"No, they're not. They stink, have you smelled them after gym?" Scaramouche prodded your side, drinking in the adorably irritated look on your face. His eyes roved over your every feature, wondering if one day they'd stretch into some semblance of the affection he so desperately craved from you.

"I can tolerate that."

"Oh yeah? What can't you tolerate, then?"

"Good question. They could punch me and I'd be thankful." You flopped onto the desk in a melodramatic display. If you punched Scaramouche, he'd probably be confused and concerned about your mood. Was it really love you felt for your crushes, or just a forced obsession?

"You're so childish." Scaramouche scoffed. He had a way of filtering his thoughts so the only thing that came out of his mouth were the mean parts - a habit he'd have to try and fix. Your beloved Mr Darcy would never behave so crudely.

"And you have a big mouth." You snapped, turning away to gaze at your crush again with exaggerated excitement.

Scaramouche rolled his eyes.

Scaramouche's fiery temper could surprisingly carry over to his love life. In a moment of impulsiveness, he'd (rather rudely) make sure you knew how he felt - as if he was entitled to your love. Before that however, he possessed some patience, so it'd taken a while for him to get to that point.

"When will someone ever like me back? If only real life could be like the books." You grumbled. Crush number seventeen had been a failure, and you moped about dejectedly.

“The minute I heard my first love story, I started looking for you.” Scaramouche responded, looking you straight in the eye.

“The Illustrated too now? I’m proud, it seems you have been reading all my recommendations!” You perked up. Your gleeful expression made Scaramouche’s heart soften, but at the same time, a sense of irritation worked its way into his restless heart.

“You know, if you talked a bit more about what you read, I can find better books for you.” You added.

“If I loved you less, I might be able to talk about it more.”

“Oh, I love a good Jane Austen-”

“Stop it.” Scaramouche’s patience finally snapped and in an instant you found your back against the wall, his arm propped up beside you.

“I like you, okay? Like how your silly little book characters love each other. That’s how I feel, for you. I’m tired of having to spell it out, just so you can understand!” Scaramouche scowled. You stared in surprise.

“Are you… confessing to me right now?”

“Yes! For god’s sake, what else would this be?”

“So you meant those quotes, all this time?”

“Of course I did.” Scaramouche winced. He really was desperate - his former self would’ve laughed at him for doing something as self-deprecating as reciting romantic lines. Such frivolous behaviour, and yet he’d do it again, just for you.

“Oh.” Your cheeks flushed red with that expression Scaramouche had longed to see, your eyes suddenly uncertain to meet his gaze. How could you be so endearing, rendering him so enamoured with your mere existence? He felt himself falling for you even further, until you opened your mouth and promptly reminded him of your naivety.

“So… does that mean we’re like, dating now?” You asked.

For a romantic, you definitely were clueless.

“Yes, if you’d like.” Scaramouche replied.

You didn’t give a verbal answer, but Scaramouche felt it in the shy push of your hand against his as your fingers intertwined, the accepting way you leaned into him.

He should’ve found you annoying. He should’ve been extremely irritated long ago, but for some reason, there he was - secretly over the moon at finally being the main love interest of your life.

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a-dauntless-daffodil · 11 months ago

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never have i ever been so ???? as when someone was talking about merry, eowyn, the witch king and the whole "no living man" thing, and they loved the books very much were quoting them and everything... and they got hung up on the man thing.

as in, they were sure it was actually the burrow downs blade merry was carrying that made the witch king vulnerable to killing, with eowyn being the one to step up and K.O. him despite her shattered shield arm- which yes yes I am following along perfectly fine so far, tom bombadil strikes again, ok-

and the person was frustrated bc if the "no living man may hinder me" thing was true then what about merry isn't merry a man didn't merry hinder-

And I swear I sat there for a full ten minutes, staring.

the thing about the middle earth books is, almost everyone is a dude. it's the default. i couldn't even remember when characters referred to each other by gender specifically (outside of eowyn's arc) beyond polite titles like lord or king, because it'd be so weird. the default is always male. it's assumed. im still trying to remember if any of the hobbits were called men- halflings, shire folk, little ones, i remember them being described by the things that set them apart from the people around them, and that was always WHAT they were. short, mainly. or presumed rich and important, for pipin the halfling prince while in gondor

in the lord of the rings and the hobbit the gender norm is so universal the word "man" almost always means... humans. as opposed to, elves, dwarves, orcs, blah blah blah, hobbits yadda yadda

So it was just, shocking to hear someone talking about the "man" in the witch king's context as a gender thing

eowyn answers it like it is, but i always thought that was her being cheeky. her whole thing there is defiance so i just figured, well, she expects to die and wants to piss him off while she goes. sure she'd make a joke of his boast. no living man. well no living MAN am I. like a pun?

then a hobbit, not a man, stabs the dude with a blade made to hurt and weaken him, and a woman, not a man, gets him in the head with her sword right after

which subversion of the "man" thing killed him in the end?

"not by the hand of man will he fall"

teen me thought the prophecy had been man vs hobbit, originally, but eowyn herself ALSO made it woman vs man, because only she- a woman, alone of all the men who rode to battle- only she understood merry and thought it right to bring a hobbit into war,

(something something, the theme of the books about different people coming together to save their world, those long overlooked shaking the towers of them who never thought to fear them)

but prophecy aside, she eowyn- as a woman- also served up this witch king with his own arrogance and superiority, because this whole battle WAS mankind HINDERING him, wasn't it now? she IS standing in his way, hindering him as well. one of mankind killed him, and the woman who sent him packing made a mockery of his pride right before she did it.

"no living man" pssh. begone if you be not deathless. eowyn daughter of eomund is gonna hit you with her fucking sword even if it kills her

and isn't that what the mankind of middle earth were all about?

(glorfindel you were either slightly wrong or being a pest) (i'd almost bet pest tbh)

man, mankind, fought that battle on the pelennor fields against the witch king's might, though it took a woman specifically to bring together all the pieces that would finally make him fall (herself) (1 hobbit + dagger) (love for her family) (friendship) (urge to KILL)

but still humans are the lays potato chips of middle earth

no dwarven unbending will, no longevity or wisdom of elves, no magic, not even that hardiness of the heart that hobbits can push through on

boromir, eowyn, eomer, theoden- humans other than aragorn the elvish or faramir the wizardly- hell even grima... kinda...

they might fail and die and falter, but when the end comes, they throw their whole selves into it. they'll at least be a hindrance on their way out

what was i saying

oh whatever. eowyn killed the witch king with snark and he died mad about it or something

#lotr #eowyn of rohan #merry brandybuck #the witch king of angmar #just thinking and mulling #looking back on kid me reading it #people have so many different ways of reading the same book #its like getting to reread it yourself for the first time again

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hootbon · 1 year ago

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IMPROMPTU BON SUPPORT:

"I was deficient in braincells" and "I was a dumbass kid back then that made cringe content."

ATDSS, Bon. All Teens Do Stupid Stuff. If anyone ever looks back at their life and doesn't admit to some cringe, they're lying.

The simple fact is: kids and teens do cringey stuff. I was a hyper, Invader Zim quoting Gamer-kid who itched for THE ZOMBIE APOCALYPSE to kick off and my irl bestie? She had an Organization XIII name (Which I still call her sometimes) and hooded trench coat to go with it, and she more than once printed off Naruto yaoi fanfics at school, once accidentally to the main office. That doesn't even scratch the surface lol.

When we look back and laugh and cringe at it all, it's because we've grown to know that a lot of what we did was socially unacceptable. But the most important part is to forgive yourself because, at the time, you were probably doing your best!

And even better: after you forgive your old cringe-ass self, you learn to embrace it. "Fuck yeah I was a dumb kid who sang the doom song at 300 decibels, lil me was having the time of his short life! Fuck yeah I'm a grown-ass adult talking about jester-shaped blorbos, that bitch makes my heart happier than it's been in years!"

So long as you're not hurting yourself or anyone else: do you, my dude, and love doing it. Life's too short to hate on your old self.

WAAAAA

I know I know, everyone tells me that and i know, being stupid is a part of life. As much as I might have hated the content I put out in the past, I still like to keep it with me, like my scratch account, my older tumblrs (you’ll never find them), even my old ass deviant art account I stopped using. Hell I even keep the sketchbooks I had all the way from 3rd grade. I’ll keep telling people I was cringe and idiotic but mostly I never mean it as much as I word it

But.. thank you.. these words made me feel better to hear another person say

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cyncerity · 10 months ago

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I am becoming a utter bitch for Jackmanifold so I was curious if he is in your Epic au and if so tell me about him

Hi hi hi!! I know this ask was sent like a year ago but uh in case you’re still curious, he’s basically Tommy’s nanny! Phil got tired of Tommy running off so he’s been hiring people to try and keep an eye on him (keyword: try)

Anyway Jack is my comfort streamer so I always want to include him in stuff, so I wanted to write a short little thing to show his dynamic with Tommy and Niki. This “short little thing” turned into a full story and character designs because I have no self control! Hope you enjoy!!

(btw anyone who can pick out the song quote in here and tell me what it’s from gets a cookie)

“Hold on, get back here!” Jack yelled running after the young prince, who stopped his sprint down a hallway to turn and look back at Jack with a disapproving stare. Jack stopped and took a few deep breaths from exhaustion before continuing through pants. “I promised his majesty that I wouldn’t let you out of my sight, and I intend to keep that promise. The last thing I want is the fuckin king mad at me…again.” Tommy simply rolled his eyes, hands on his hips as he took a few steps towards the older leafmen. “Ooo King Philza this, King Philza that,” Tommy said in a mocking tone. “Let’s be honest with ourselves here Jack, if Phil hasn’t fired you yet he’s not gonna. The last guy got kicked after losing me like 4 times and you’re already way past that. The only reason you still have a job is cause you’ve got connections in high places.” “Is not!” “Is too!”

“God you’re so immature,” Jack said, having finally fully caught his breath. “Maybe if you could actually be responsible and not fuckin disappear every day then the king wouldn’t need to assign you a-“ “Babysitter. You’re a babysitter.” Tommy cut him off, only angering Jack further. “You’re such a fucking child! Why can’t we have one normal conversation about you disappearing under my watch, it’s like you want me to get exiled or something!” “Oh my dad’s not gonna exile you,” Tommy responds nonchalantly, “Niki likes you too much for that.” “There are only so many times you can lose the crown prince before his dad will get fed up. Niki isn’t more powerful than the fucking king, Tommy.” “No, but she’s one of his best soldiers, which means her and her happiness is important to him, and for some unexplainable reason you’re part of that happiness. Phil isn’t gonna risk losing his General cause he dismissed her best friend like he dismissed the rest of the fucks he hired to watch me.”

That made Jack pause. He knows Phil; they’ve had plenty of talks personally (well, personally with Schlatt in the room too, as if Jack would ever pull something with the ruler of the whole goddamn forest). In all the talks he’s had with Phil, he’d never guess that anyone’s personal happiness was important to him. The kingdom’s happiness? Sure, of course, that was his fucking job, after all. But, personally? Jack just always assumed that Phil was kind of a cold guy. To hear that he valued Niki’s happiness personally, even for his own gain, was…an odd thought. “Phil cares about Niki?” Jack asked, though he wasn’t quite sure why. Tommy seemed just as confused, before shrugging it off. “Yeah, ‘course he does. She and Schlatt are, yknow, his friends.” That genuinely shocked Jack. “There’s something in that guy to befriend??” He questioned, though as soon as the words came out of his mouth he regretted it. Tommy’s face wore absolute shock, and Jack quickly slapped a hand over his mouth as they both stared at each other in silence.

“I- I’m so-“ Jack’s poor attempt at an apology was cut off by roaring laughter from Tommy, the teen bent over to his knees wheezing as Jack stood terrified. He’d almost forgot that he was in the presence of the second most powerful person in the forest, magically and politically. That the boy in front of him was just as capable of exiling him to The Bogs as King Philza was. And, just as a bonus, Tommy never let Jack doubt the fact that he didn’t fucking like him. And now he’s just gone and insulted the king and gave his son a free pass to get rid of him for good. Oh fuck.

But, to his shock, when Tommy righted himself his face was absolutely beaming. He wiped a tear from his eye as he slapped a hand on Jack’s shoulder. “Ok, I take it back, maybe I can see why Niki likes you, just a little bit though.” “S-so you’re not…gonna tell Phil..?” Jack asked, his fear only slightly relieved. When Tommy’s face morphed from humored to smug, though, that fear was immediately back. “Well, I think that can be arranged…for a price.” “Price?” “Yeah, let’s put it like this; you let me go right now and don’t make me tell you where i’m fuckin going, and I don’t report you for lèse-majesté.” Tommy stuck out a hand, and Jack shook it before he could even fully fathom what he was agreeing to. “Deal, a hundred times deal, your dad would fucking kill me.” Tommy just laughed. “Good man. Well, i’ll see you later then, Jack! Good luck with Schlatt when he comes to ask where I am!!” Tommy chuckled as he began to walk away.

“Wait, your majesty!” Jack shouted, and Tommy turned, seemingly slightly annoyed that Jack was still trying to talk to him when he so clearly wanted to fuck off to wherever he went to when he disappeared for hours. Jack knew he had to be careful with this; he’d just made Tommy like him a little bit, he couldn’t lose that yet. “Just…when you get back, can we talk about this? A bit? I don’t care where you go, for fucks sake you can do magic, I know you can protect yourself, but can we like…work out when you leave or don’t? So your dad doesn’t absolutely fucking hate me? He may be a bitch but he’s still my boss.” Jack hoped that insulting Phil again (as horrified as it made him feel) would open Tommy’s mind to the idea since it had seemingly worked before, and given that Tommy seemed less annoyed, it apparently worked. “You mean…you’d cover for me? Without even knowing where I’m headed off to? You would lie to the king for me?” “I mean, sure, man, why the hell not. Right now I don’t know where you are and I get in trouble, I’d much rather not know where you are and not get in trouble. Plus, who’s gonna turn me in for lying, you? You’d be turning yourself in.”

Tommy stood in shock, like he couldn’t believe what he was hearing, and that scared Jack. Shit, had he overstepped a boundary somewhere? Was Tommy angry that he would advocate a scheme against his dad? Did he just fuck himself over?? But Tommy, ever so full of surprises, just smiled at Jack. “We’ll see, let me think about it. I’ll let you know when I get back.” He said, and held a fist in front of him. Jack smiled unsurely and fistbumed him, making Tommy chuckle as he turned and continued down the hallway.

Oh Prime, what has he got himself into?

~~~

“So, Jack, where is my son?” King Philza said, sat at his desk in his chambers, and Jack could barely utter a word. Schlatt stood behind Phil on his right, face as stone cold and intimidating as ever. Niki, bless her heart for arguing to be in the room with him for this, stood behind Phil on his left, eyes pleading with Jack for him to think of something. But, truly, in the dozen or so times he’s had to do this because Tommy fucking sucked, he’s never had an excuse. He’d always just apologized and Phil had disappointedly sent him home for the night with the command that he’d better be able to do his job tomorrow. That he’d better know where Tommy was the next night. It never happened, he never did, and this “i’m not mad i’m just disappointed” routine with the fucking king had become a nightly routine. Jack was getting kind of sick of it.

“Jack?” Philza repeated, and Jack sighed. “Your majesty, I-“ The door was kicked in suddenly, scaring the shit out of Jack and no one else in the room (fuck the royals and the guards and their unnatural lack of fight or flight), the prince in question proudly standing in the doorway, panting and exhausted but excited looking. “Holy shit!” he shouted. “You were right Jack! This was a tough book to find!” Tommy chuckled only mildly unbelievably before chucking a book at Jack, who quickly caught on. “Ah, yes! I was just about to tell his highness your father that you were down in the library grabbing a book on…uh, gardening…yeah! Yeah, we…we gardened today.” Jack lied through his teeth. “Yeah, we were looking into where the best place for crops would be so the bugfolk have a good harvest this spring! Y’know, doin some charity work, spreading peace and kindness and all the shit you preach, yeah?” Tommy continued, waltzing up to the king’s desk and leaning on it. Jack had to keep himself from gasping, reminding himself that Tommy was the prince and therefore wouldn’t be harshly punished for showing such disrespect in a royal’s presence. He himself was a royal, after all, though that didn’t make his lax behavior any less unexpected in an area that Jack had come to know as strict and horrifyingly stressful.

“So you were…out gardening.” Philza repeated, seemingly not buying a word, and Jack felt his heart stop. Tommy, however, was unfazed. “Yeah!” Tommy exclaimed, ignoring his father’s skepticism in favor of pulling a map out of the book in Jack’s hand. The map was a hand-drawn top view of the forest, with doodles, circles, arrows, and written notes scribbled all around it. He proudly came around to Phil’s side and excitedly began rambling about every little thing on the map. If Jack didn’t know that Tommy was his son, he’d assume that Phil was on the verge of exiling him based on his face alone. He seemed…more than annoyed, he seemed straight up miserable sitting and listening to Tommy talk. Yeesh, maybe this was why he had to hire someone to be around him. It seemed like an overreaction to listening to his kids talk about plants, he looked like he wanted to die right then and there.

“-so I think the best place for the sugar cane would be this spot where there aren’t any trees so it gets super hot, and it’s close to the lake but not too close so the soil doesn’t get waterlogged, which means the dirt will be ideal fo-“ “Stop!!” Philza shouted, slamming his hands on his desk and startling everyone in the room, even his guards. He dropped his head into his hands and sighed, fully missing the reaction of everyone in the room. Schlatt’s eyes were wide and Niki looked panic. Tommy looked…scared. Well, scared for all of .2 seconds before his expression shifted to something smug. Phil looked up at him with pity and Tommy’s reaction quickly changed into innocent confusion, slipping a mask back on to continue his act.

“Just…just stop. Listen, Tommy, I’m glad you think you’re helping. I am. But we can’t involve ourselves in the bugfolk’s problems. Their crops provide absolutely nothing to us, it’s a waste to fix what they need to be fixing amongst themselves.” Jack saw Tommy’s mask crack a bit. “But they’re like us, dad, they’re our people! This winter has been rough for them and they need all the help they can ge-“ “No, Tommy.” Phil interrupted, eyes turning hard, any and all pity gone. “They may be our people, but they’re not like us. They will never be like us. They’re in our land, and we allow them to be, with all of the benefits that come from living here. That’s all we owe them, nothing more, nothing less. End of conversation.” Tommy’s facial expression was blank, though if looks could kill, Jack was sure that Tommy would have needed a coronation by the next morning. He was pissed at Phil. A bubbling, festering anger that was sure to explode and cause permanent damage at some point in the near future.

However, it wouldn’t today.

Tommy, ever the actor, breathed out deeply to compose himself before rolling up his map. “‘Course, dad. Whatever is best for our p-…for the forest. You know best.” “You’ll learn, Tommy.” Philza said, reaching out to hold Tommy’s fists that curled around his map. “You’ll be a great king someday. A wise man once said: ‘the line between naivety and hopefulness is almost invisible.’ You just haven’t found the line yet, and I don’t expect you too at your age. In time you’ll learn just as I did exactly what needs to be done to keep the people you care about safe.” Tommy just stood, pointedly not answering. Philza sighed. “You are dismissed, Tommy. And Jack, good work today, keep this up. You are dismissed as well.” Tommy, deadpan as ever, walked back towards the entrance as Jack bowed in response. Well, tried to. Tommy yanked him by the shoulder and dragged him out of the room midway down, almost making him drop the gardening book.

As soon as they were far enough away from the chamber, Tommy dropped jacks arm and started screaming with clenched teeth, yanking on the petals on his head and kicking the nearest wall to him. Jack figured it was best to just…let him have his moment. “UUGGHHH, just, who does he think he is?! ‘oH Tommy they’re not liKe uS, they’re our people but they’re woRsE cause they’re not LeAveS’ it’s fucking ridiculous!! He barely knows anything about them, who is he to just decide that we just shouldn’t help with their crops?!” Tommy yelled, kicking another wall. “I- i don’t know, man.” Jack whispered, unsure if any of what Tommy said was rhetorical. Tommy looked over at him and just sighed.

“Sorry, it just drives me up a fucking wall. He thinks he’s the prime example of a fucking king and meanwhile he hates like half his citizens, and 3/4 of the forest as a whole, it’s fucking ridiculous.” Jack stood for a minute, eyes wide. What did he say? 3/4 would imply that he was upset that Phil hated…the enemy? “Well…he, uh, at the very least protects us from the boggins, but yeah…all that stuff about bugfolk, that wasn’t, uh, that wasn’t cool, man.” Now it was Tommy’s turn to be shocked, before he quickly tried and this time failed to put a mask back on. “Oh, yeah, ha! Whoops, sorry, I, uh, yeah, no fuck the boggins. Totally, yeah they suck. They’re, ha, yeah they’re horrifying, i’d hate to ever have to face one of them, thank god Phil keeps ‘em out!” Tommy rambled awkwardly, which led to a far more awkward moment of silence between Jack and Tommy after he finished.

“Look, man,” Jack finally broke the silence, “I appreciate you helping me out of that. I think Phil was really done with me that time.” “Well, I figured it was a good enough idea. Would benefit both of us, anyway. You wouldn’t get in trouble, my dad gets to think i’m doin’ shit, it’s foolproof.” “So, it’s official?” Jack said, offering a fist. Tommy laughed and fist bumped him back, a genuine smile on his face. “It’s official. We’ll work out the details tomorrow, though, I’m tired as shit. See ya, man.” Tommy said as he turned away, waving with one hand and holding a map in the other…

He was still holding a gardening book.

“Wait, Tom!” He didn’t know when he decided that it was ok to call the crown prince by a nickname, but given that Tommy didn’t correct him when he turned in response, he supposed the nickname was accepted. “You forgot your book.” He said, holding it out to a very relieved looking Tommy. “Shit, right, thank you! Can’t believe I almost forgot this.” He said, unrolling his map and placing it back in his book. “I gotta say, man, that’s a lot of effort to put into a map for a bit.” Jack said. “Where did you even get this gardening book? I’ve never seen it in the library.” “Oh, it’s not from the library, it was a gift from a friend. And the map wasn’t for the bit.” Tommy said gleefully, ignoring Jack’s shock for probably the fiftieth time that evening. “I wasn’t lying this time, that’s genuinely what I was out doing all day. I didn’t have time to think of a fake out story. But don’t expect me to tell you everything from now on, that’s just a thank you for helping me out. Night Jack!” Tommy said, waving and running down the hall towards his room, leaving Jack in confused shock. Jack huffed and shook his head as he started in the opposite direction towards the castle’s exit.

“Jack, wait up!” he heard a familiar voice call as his best friend caught up with him. “Hey Niki, don’t you have important General shit to do?” “C’mon, you’ve been a personal hand to the royal family for almost a month now, i’d say it’s important to make sure you’re escorted home safely.” She snickered, and Jack rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, as if the king would care if I got home safe.” “Well, he might start to if you make a habit of keeping track of the prince! It’s been a while since he’s even told us how his day was.” “Has it also been a while since his highness had a freak out like that or is that a regular thing?” Jack whispered. A pause, before Niki sighed and whispered back. “He’s stressed. I…I haven’t seen him get like that in a long while. Phil is my friend, I know him, I know how he is, and that isn’t him.”

Ok, so getting the confirmation that Phil and Niki’s relationship wasn’t strictly professional and was an actual friendship was unexpected, but that wasn’t the topic right now. “Was it Tommy? Does he really hate the idea of gardening that much? Does he just…not like being with Tommy? Is that why he needs me?” “No, not that, definitely not that.” Niki responded urgently. “He loves Tommy, I know he doesn’t show it well, but he does. I…I think it was more the topic. Not the gardening, more the idea of who it was for.” “The bugfolk? Why?” “Beats me, but Phil doesn’t ever really like to talk about them. If we’re trying to be more specific, though, something happened recently. More territory shit, some leafmen got hurt, we’ve been dealing with it so it doesn’t turn into an uprising. It’s been getting handled, but I think it was just bad timing, we haven’t told Tommy about that incident because it’s contained, so he wouldn’t have known that talking about helping the bugfolk would set Phil off.” “Prime, man, that’s…that’s rough. Not like it’s Tommy’s fault, though, felt kinda wrong for King Philza to snap at him of all people. Plus, some of that other shit he was saying was…how do I put this…..distasteful.”

Niki looked…uncomfortable, to say the least. “I know, and I agree with you,” she sighed, “but he’s my king. He’s my friend. He has his reasons to be like this and frankly? Our kingdom is thriving, so what’s the harm?” The harm is that he might hurt bugfolk like he’s hurt others, Jack thought. The harm is that he could exile an entire species out of the forest to a place of rot and death and savage beastly occupants and the worst part is that it wouldn’t even be the first time he did that. The harm is that he’s destroying his relationship with his kid and making said kid standoffish to anyone who attempts to befriend them. And oh, didn’t that just make so much sense? Maybe it wasn’t that Tommy was just brash and rude, could it…could it be self defense? Was he pushing people away on purpose? Now that he thought about it, he’d never actually seen Tommy talk to…anyone. Prime, did this kid have friends? He doubted it, if his general approach is the same one he used with Jack. He would have given up with the prince a long time ago if it weren’t for Niki and the fact that a royal job pays well.

“Jack?” Niki said, snapping him out of this thoughts. “Sorry, sorry Niki, I’m just…I’m just tired.” “I can only imagine,” Niki laughed, elbowing Jack in the arm, “you’ve got to be exhausted if you were out gardening with Tommy all day.” And oh, Jack hadn’t thought of this part: he’d have to continually lie to his best friend for this plan to work. Fuck his life. “Yeah, yeah, ha..takes a lot outta ya.” He laughed uncomfortably, though Niki didn’t seem to notice. “Well, you’re almost home and I’ve got to get reports in from the soldiers in my unit. I’ll talk to you later Jack! Good night!” She gave him a quick side hug before turning back towards the castle, leaving Jack alone in his thoughts.

Ok, so new notes for the day: the prince is…tolerant of him. Dare he say kind of likes him. He’s kind of still reeling from the realization that Tommy may just be acting out due to daddy issues and loneliness. The king likely knows they’re full of shit and just doesn’t care, Niki trusts him and he’s going to have to break that trust and lie to her because the prince is a secretive prick, and, oh yeah, the king might be a fucking bigot. Great.

Fuck.

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nescaveckwriter · 1 year ago

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Moonflowers & Werewolves - Chapter One 🌕🐺

Derek Hale x Reader (Madison Wells)

A/N: Alohaz my dearest bugsies, this little teen wolf magic was requested (I sure do hope you enjoy it bugsie) I'm quite excited to see were it goes.🐞❤️

Side Note: Thanks for all the support and love - my stories is available on watpad aswell 🤗🐞❤️

Warnings: It is Sci-fi, Fantasy, Horror so there can be a little of everything.

''Good morning class'', her fruity voice washes over the class of high scholars,'' I'm Miss Madison Wells, but y'all can call me Miss Wells''.

''Good morning Miss Wells'', the whole class sang.

''I will be your new English Literature teacher, and I'm sure we are going to have a great school year. Before we start our first class, I want to lay down some ground rules''.

The bunch of teen-agers start to chatter underneath each other.

''Now settle down class'', with a stern look on her beautiful face. Rules is as follows, picking up some white chalk, writing as she speaks,'' 1. There will be no speaking during tests, 2. There will be no mocking or calling out others, 3. There will be toleration of bullying whatsoever, and the most important rule, 4. Always feel free to come and talk to me, if you don't understand a question, or if you need someone to talk too''.

Glancing over the classroom, "okay kids, now that we set some rules, I need each and everyone of you to write down, your favorite quote, and give me a summary of why it's your favorite, it can be from someone famous or a close friend, or loved one, when your done, please place it, in this box on my desk" she stated.

Deep in thought while the kids are doing their assignment, thinking back at why she took this job in a town called beacon hills of all places.

"I walked in on them mom, Tom and that... That," she bites her tongue, in order to silence herself from saying something horrible.

"Honey I'm so sorry, I always told you his no good" the much older woman replied.

"Mom, really, now is not the time, I don't need I told you so, I need a hug, and a new life" her voice brittle

Her mom just pulled her closer, and she cried, Tom choose that blonde over me, mom, five years of marriage, just gone.

''What am I going to do now? How do I move on from here? How do I heal my broken heart? How do I get over this mom? How do I trust again?.

The ringing of the school bell, breaks her thoughts, quickly drying off the stray tear, turning towards the kids "okay class, tomorrow we start by reading Hemingway" Giving them a heartwarming smile. "I'll leave you with a little something from Him 'Mistakes are proof that you're trying' so go out today knowing that your trying, have a great day further" her fruity voice fills the classroom.

Gathering all her stuff, in her big tote bag, walking out of her classroom, still trying to figure out where everything is, she came through on Saturday, so she still needs to unpack, and figure out the town, the shops and so on.

Walking past the boys lockers room, hearing there laughter, then glancing through the nearby window, "never have I ever heard of Lacrosse where I come from I know about football and baseball" saying underneath her breath.

"You look a little lost" his smoky voice makes her turn around.

Looking up at the man with his broad shoulders towering over her, a smile on his lips, dark hair and a trimmed dark beard with silver here and there, enhancing his already amazing jawline, his green-hazel eyes friendly. "Yeah, I feel a little lost'' smiling I'm still trying to figure out where everything is" she exclaims

"Oh! You must be the new English literature teacher? I'm Eli's father, Derek Hale, if he gives you any trouble let me know" he chuckles

"Nice to meet you Derek, I'm Madison Wells, and yes it's my first day" a smile on her pink-stained lips

"Nice to meet you too, Madison, I sure do hope you'll enjoy living here in Beacon Hills, now if you'll excuse me, I have to go and take my son's equipment, that he forgot again" he expressed

"Kids always forget things, good luck and hope you have a lovely afternoon" she laughs a little. As he walks into the boys lockers room, she walks down the hallway, to her car.

"Eli, you forgot your stuff at home" he said with smile

''Thanks dad, I cannot believe I forgot it again'' laughing a little.

''Enjoy practice son, I need to get back to work.'' gesturing a goodbye

As he walks to his Chevrolet Camaro, he catches a glimpse of the new teacher, her long brown hair, soaking up the sunshine revealing the light brown highlights dancing in the wavy lengths. She has friendly hazel-brown eyes and a breathtaking smile, and a beautiful voice, remembering, the shiny diamond ring on her left finger, her husband is one lucky man. Shaking his head at his own thoughts, ''What is the matter with me, I don't even know her, but there's something about Madison Wells that's just so inviting'' clicking his tongue at himself.

Walking into her new rental home, the boxes all over makes her sigh. ''Who would've thought at my age I'll start over, new job, new town, divorced. I need a glass of wine and some pizza before I start unpacking of what's left of my life.'' she sighed.

The door bell rings, ''yay, my pizza has arrived'' she yelps.

''Here you go miss'' handing her the box.

Giving the young man , with his brown hair, hanging over his ears, the money, realizing its one of the students, she met today. ''Thank you, Eli right?''

His voice, sounded surprised, ''Oh sorry Miss Wells, I didn't recognize you''

A nervous chuckle escapes her lips ''Yes I look like a mess, busy unpacking and all''

''Not what I meant, you look beautiful'' his cheeks turning a bright red

Laughing ''Thank you Eli''

Rubbing the back of his neck, ''So where neighbors then, me and my dad lives right across the street''

''Oh okay! That's nice to know'' she exclaims.

''Speaking of my dad, I need to get home, this was my last delivery, goodbye miss Wells'' he shouts while walking off.

''Bye Eli'' waving then closing the door. ''Oh that's just lovely, the first day already and one of my students seen me looking like a mess, what is the parents going to think.''

After eating a slice of pizza she, walks to her suitcase, taking a hoody, thinking she needs to go for a run, it always clears her head.

After locking the door she starts to slowly jog, seeing Derek and Eli Hale sitting at the dining room table, enjoying dinner.

That's how my life was supposed to be, a happy little family, if only Tom wanted kids, but no! Thinking back now, I'm actually glad we never had kids, imagine the pain they would be feeling when we went through the divorce. Not realizing that she ran into the woods she came to a stop, when almost tripping over a log.

''Yikes! That was close'' she murmured Glancing up at the sky, its full moon, ''Wow! its breathtakingly beautiful'', walking a little closer to the edge, finding a place to sit, trees and stars as far as you can look. With the wind blowing in her face, only then she realizes the wet stains on her cheeks.

A creaking sound of sticks and leaves, breaks her gaze, ''anyone there'' voice shaky ''hello'' hearing a thudding sound coming closer, getting to a stand, ''hello'' her hands trembling, glaring over the side of the bushes where the eerie sound comes from, seeing the deepest, brightest bluest eyes she's ever seen.

''What, its a damn wolf'' she stutters. The wolf walks closer and closer, to almost where she stands. ''What do I do'' saying shaky. The whimpering of the wolf leaves her trembling, the big, black wolf looks straight into her eyes and then he...

Chapter Two Here :)

#spotify #teen wolf #derek hale #fantasy #total drama #fan fiction #bugsies #d nesca

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thgfanfictionlibrary · 1 year ago

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Teen and Up Rated Fics Masterlist

Created: August 24th, 2023

Last Checked:

A Different Kind of Reaping-norbertsmom (Tumblr)

Summary: Arranged Marriage fic with a jealous Gale set In Panem-AU

A New Recipe-Mollywog (AO3)

Summary: He had painted the storefront sign himself: ‘Mellarks’ in honor of his late family. He supposes the muted orange ‘S’ at the end implies more than one, but he's the only living Mellark in the district at present.

A S.W.A.N Story-MegaAuLover (AO3)

Summary: Katniss Everdeen is a smart girl. Brilliant, actually. She has more degrees than she has fingers on one hand. But she has never felt beautiful or interesting. When she is asked to be Madge's maid of honor Katniss has serious doubts she'll fit in with her childhood glamorous friend. Will she survive the wedding and find love? Or will she be a total embarrassment.

all the version of me dead (and buried in the yard outside)-rosaeles (AO3)

Summary: “I’m here,” Peeta murmurs. “Brought you something to eat.” Katniss wants to reply. Would like to thank him for everything he’s doing. I missed you. She wants to yell it from the rooftops. Scream herself hoarse with it, but she doesn’t. Because her throat is rusted after weeks of barely using it, so all she says is; “Please don’t touch me.”

Almost Believing-HalfHope (thesweetnessofspring) (AO3)

Summary: This is Peeta's POV from three chapters of my fanfic "I Do." Best to read at least through chapter 17 of that before coming here. Peeta and Katniss are married, but are taking things slow. Peeta's willing to be patient, to take his time, wanting Katniss to want him, too. But after a revelation about a conversation Katniss had with Gale, he believes Katniss's so-called love came only out of pity. She has to convince him otherwise.

Angel Kisses-VanillaCottonCandy (AO3)

Summary: When his teeth graze my soft flesh though, I let out an embarrassing moan and pray no one comes in now, looking for bread or cake. Between Peeta leaning against the doorframe in his tight shirt and the attention my neck is receiving, it’s going to be a while before I’m going to willingly release him back to work. I tighten my legs around his waist as his mouth moves to the opposite side, his lips planting kisses right where he can feel my heart pounding beneath his touch. For a split second, I’m extremely grateful he’s holding me up, because there’s not a shot in the dark that my legs could sustain me right about now. / Post - Canon Married Everlark Request For Everlark Neck Kisses

Arranged-CassandraO (AO3)

Summary: Facing the death of her mother, 14-year old Katniss Everdeen and her 10-year old sister Prim move in with their widowed maternal grandmother, the apothecary's wife. In a world in which unmarried women cannot own property, Katniss' grandmother arranges with the town baker to marry off her eldest granddaughter at sixteen to protect her in case she dies before the girl is ready to marry. Luckily for all, Katniss gets to marry the youngest son, her close friend Peeta. Now, married young, the summer is coming, and with it, the 74th Annual Hunger Games

Be Still-snapcrackle (AO3)

Summary: After the war Katniss and Peeta slowly grow back together, despite being so broken. The story begins during the final chapter of 'Mockingjay', before the epilogue, and chapters get longer and more detailed as Katniss slowly heals.

Boy In The Bubble-Miss_Missy (AO3)

Summary: The last thing Katniss expects to hear about her best friend Peeta is the fact that he not only got into a fist fight with one of the biggest guys in their school but also the fact that he quote “almost killed him”. Now Peeta is refusing to explain to her or his family what happened or why he punched Brutus in the first place. Katniss is trying her best to help but no matter what she does Peeta just keeps pushing her further away. All she wants to do is help, Katniss refuses to loose another important person in her life

Catching Fire from Peeta's POV-thismustbeagoodidea (AO3)

Summary: “You think President Snow has probably given them direct orders to make sure we die in the arena anyway,” Katniss finishes for me. “It’s crossed my mind,” I say grimly. But the fear I felt last year, of dying for nothing, of becoming no more than a Capitol puppet, is quieting.

Chain of Fools-SoThere (AO3)

Summary: We all get a little jealous sometimes. Modern AU.

#t #masterlist #teen and up masterlist #everlark #everlark fanfiction #thg #thg fanfiction #finick #coffee shop

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askthestans · 2 years ago

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Hello Pines brothers. I come to you about an old question: about being a father and guardian. Stanley, know that you would be a wonderful father and a wonderful parent. Of course, you are not perfect in many ways, but you know the basic things about forgetting about someone: feeding, washing, proper sleep and safety. Unlike your brother, who can't even take care of himself, let alone anyone else. Stanley, have you ever considered adopting a newborn baby in the past?

Stanley: Well, Lu (can I call ya that for short?), you're right. I may not be a dad, but I'm somethin' even better: a Grunkle. See, people think parents are the most important people in a kid's life. And they are, don't get me wrong! But a Grunkle (or Graunty, for that matter) is so important, too. We're like backup parents or grandparents, minus dumb rules like goin' to bed at a reasonable time or limits on sugar intake, with added fun and law-breaking!

And you're 100% right: Ford can't take care of himself. Why do ya think I know about parenting so well? I had to look after this nerdy runt for years of my life! When we were kids, guess who had to protect ‘im from bullies and brush the sand outta his hair? Me. When we were teens, who had to make sure his late night science fair project candy stash was stocked and that he got enough sleep? This guy, that's who.

Never mind the thirty years I spent gettin' him back from sci-fi sideburn land. Oh, he whined about *raises voice an octave* "openin' that portal was too dangerous, Stan!" and "ya almost tore apart the fabric of reality!", but without me, Ford'd still be sleepin' in some slimy alien's armpit and chewin' on chicken-flavored tentacle strips for dinner.

If I thought workin' on fixin' the portal was hard, I was not prepared for takin' care of this guy after he got back. Oof, I'd take the task of carin' for Little Dork Ford or readin' theoretical physics textbooks over...

*He gestures over at Ford, who's working at the desk in his lab.* Ugh, whatever this wrinkly, musty, grumpy old creature is. It's Little Dork Ford, but now it sheds everywhere, has an ego, and it gets into even more trouble somehow.

Stanford: *Is currently busy at his desk, scribbling away at some experiment notes.* You do know that I can hear you insulting me, Stan?

Stanley: See? Ego taller than the Empire State Building, all to cover up insecurity as deep as... hey, Ford? What’s the world’s deepest ocean trench you told me those underwater aliens or whatever hide in?

Stanford: The Mariana Trench.

Stanley: Yeah, that place! Thanks, Sixer-

Stanford: *Reaches into sliding shelf behind his desk, pulls out The Norton Anthology of Shakespeare, Third Edition. He turns around without a word, narrows his eyes, and holds it up so Stan can see what it is. There are little post-it markers sticking up in neon colors from the pages, each marked similarly to “Quotes to Share with Stan #33″ His expression turns into a wicked, depraved smile.*

Stanley: *Backs away and starts sweating.* ANYWAYS, let’s take this conversation upstairs! AS FAR AWAY FROM FORD AS POSSIBLE!

*Stan drops a smoke bomb, rips the laptop they use to answer AsktheStans questions off its charger, and runs into the elevator of Ford’s lab.*

*The elevator, being old and rickety as it is, takes a long time to close the doors and start lifting. Stan holds the laptop with one hand and furiously, desperately smashes the up arrow button with the other, swearing profusely at how slow it is.*

*Meanwhile, a figure with six fingers looms in the dissipating smoke just outside the doors, outlined in the occasional neon blue flash of machinery he walks past, pacing closer, a book opened in his hands like a preacher about to read scripture at a demon.*

Stanley: Not again! *Screams and cowers as Ford nears and the doors are still closing, slowly, slowly...*

Stanford: “Thou ominous and fearful owl of death, Our nation’s terror and their bloody-”

*The doors close just before Ford can reach them.*

Stanley: *Lets out a sigh of relief and wipes his brow.* Whew! That was close. Hopefully he’ll calm down before this old elevator gets back down and up again. Heh, I have a good hidin’ spot just in case, though. I made sure to find one after last week’s event where I interrupted his dumb ‘married to science’ joke.

*Stan keeps talking as the elevator creaks upwards.* Sorry, your question... uh... adoptin’ a newborn baby. Hm...

Come to think of it, I actually did try to adopt a newborn once! It was a few years after I got established here at the Shack, had some extra money, was feelin’ a little lonely, wanted someone to teach all my good moral lessons and tell stories of the good ol’ heist days to...

So I went to the nearest adoption agency and asked about it. I even had a name picked out: Stanford Sherman Pines! I thought, just wait ‘til I get Ford back, and he sees this cute kiddo that’s named after him. Heh, just picture his face-

*The elevator doors open to the stairwell just down from the Gift Shop. Ford is waiting just outside. The book is still open in his hands. His eyes are unblinking.*

Stanford: “The period of thy tyranny approacheth. On us thou canst not enter but by death-”

Stanley: *Rips Ford’s glasses off, digs into his own pocket, and throws awfully convenient salt into Ford’s eyes. Stan politely tucks the glasses back into Ford’s coat pocket with a little tap, then slams the down arrow elevator button this time.*

*By the time Ford gets back up from hunching over in pain, the doors close in his face again. Stan starts talking again.*

L-long story short, they saw my criminal history, and said no. I told ‘em they were makin’ a mistake! I, Stanley - er, well, I was pretendin’ to be Stanford at the time - Pines, would make a great dad! I mean, look at how well I took care of Dips and Mabes over last summer! They only went to jail once. And I even made ‘em Stancakes a few times!

But oh well. A few years later, Soos showed up at my door and got hired. I mean, he’s not my son, just my favorite employee, but he’s as close to a kid as I could ask for. With him, the little Pines twins, and Ford, I got all the kids I need! Seriously, ya might think I’m a big kid myself, and you’re right, but compared to those four, I feel like a mother hen.

Just doin’ the laundry around here is like a constant cycle of scrubbin’ food stains and science experiment chemicals. And who do you think all these dorks come to when they need a shoulder to cry on?

*The elevator door opens up to Ford’s lab again.*

*Stan winces, then when nothing happens, he peers out. Ford is nowhere to be seen. Stan lets out another sigh of relief, then starts walking out of the elevator. The laptop is still in his hands, the camera showing the empty elevator behind him.*

Looks like Ford finally gave up! Heh, salt! Didn’t think that would work, but it just goes to show ya, when in doubt, and when your twin brother who spent thirty years survivin’ in a hellish slew of dimensions comes after you for tellin’ the truth about his awful insecurity issues...

*Unbeknownst to Stan, behind him on the camera, a figure pops down from the service access hatch in the elevator roof, landing as silently as a ninja, rising from the still dissipating smoke as a shadow, the only light on the figure being glasses agleam with blue glow.*

Salt will do the trick! Yep, that’s all it took. I’m sure he’ll get me back for it later, but ya never know! Think he’ll forgive me? Hah! Of course he’ll forgive me! He’s my twin brother. Deep down he loves me, ya know?

*The figure comes up right behind Stan into the light, quiet as a ghost. It’s Ford, eyes puffy and red, tears streaming down his face, salt glistening in his eyelashes, but he’s still expressionless and unblinking.*

*Ford’’s pain is indeed great, but the stinging salt of betrayal can always be soothed by the sweet taste of revenge.*

Stanley: Ah! I’m sure he’ll forgive me. And if the salt doesn’t work and he’s still mad, I can always fall back on old reliable, right? *Stan makes a motion, as if kneeing someone in the crotch.* I did that once before, and he deserved every moment of-

Stanford: Care to let me finish?

*The laptop’s camera turns into a blur of machines and shadows and the sound of screaming. The laptop is set back down on the table and left streaming. Ford walks past slowly, book raised, reciting line after line of Shakespeare, screen glitching until all movement stops.*

*An hour passes. Eventually, Ford comes back and sees the laptop is still on. He leans down to speak, smiling innocently.*

Stanford: Oh! I forgot about the laptop. Apologies, internet stranger! My brother and I just had a casual argument, is all. Don’t worry, I didn’t kill him. He’ll be fine.

*A scream erupts from somewhere further back in Ford’s lab. Ford turns around, eyebrows furrowed in irritation.*

Stanley, if you wanted to avoid getting locked in a room with a barghest, you should have thought about that before you sassed me and threw salt into my eyes!

*Chuckles and speaks to the camera with his mouth behind his hand.* Actually, the barghest is a pretty friendly creature. Demonic looking thing, but give it a nice belly rub or a bone, and it’ll be wagging its tail in no time. But Stan doesn’t need to know that.

Now, if he’d interrupted my marriage to science speech again, well... let’s just say I would have locked him in a pitch black room with a far worse creature.

*Shrugs.*

I’ll just leave this on for you all to listen to the sweet symphony of justice. Also because I need someone to bounce some ideas off of. What do you say? Want to help Dr. Pines - world-renowned supernatural expert - plan a new DD&MD campaign?

*Another scream. Demonic howling and the sound of rattling chains ensue.*

*Ford laughs, brings the laptop with him, then sits back at his desk, humming Dead or Alive’s ‘You Spin Me Round (Like a Record)’ as he scribbles away, occasionally asking the viewer their opinions on what monsters to use in said campaign.*

#stanley pines #stanford pines #gravity falls #yeah so uh Ford's starting to scare me even as the writer of this blog #but you know what I need more dramatic nerd moments in my life and so do you #he survived thirty years in the multiverse somehow #you can't tell me this man doesn't have a dark side #he pursued bill for 30 years #he holds grudges and he holds them well #ford is an owl #an ominous and fearful owl of death

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takeariskao3 · 2 years ago

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I've never found Pansy interesting and don't know why so much of the fandom like her. But since you'll be writing a Panville fic, I'm willing to give it a shot. I'm Genuinely curious about what you like about her. Could you give us some of the reason why you like her?

so, i'm going to get on a soapbox for a second (or a high horse)

first off, i don't think your message was combative or confrontational in any way! but i do get a little defensive when it comes to some of my preferred ships/characters (especially female characters) because i shouldn't have to justify why i like them or why i find a story arc with them as the central focus interesting. you know?

however, seeing as you do seem genuinely curious, i think it is two fold.

there is a quote from JKR about pansy and it goes something like this: "I loathe Pansy Parkinson. I don’t love Draco but I really dislike her. She’s every girl who ever teased me at school. She’s the Anti-Hermione. I loathe her." now on the surface this is a whatever statement right? how could we disagree with it? of course we loathe pansy, the narrative *wants* us to loathe pansy. she's mean! but when i think about it longer than thirty seconds i get a little cringed out. because when i was a teen, i was the anti-hermione. i liked fashion, and makeup, and traditionally feminine things, i had a large group of friends and i liked my boyfriend. i was popular in the traditional sense of the word. i don't think i was a mean girl but who hasn't ever, in their life, been mean? so does the narrative (author) loathe me as well? i feel similarly about pansy that i do about lavender, that they were written from a place of deep misogyny and by a person who bought into the YA trend that main female characters needed to *not be like other girls* to be interesting.

the other half of my enjoyment of pansy & panville is that i don't like caricatures, and i really like redemption stories. genuinely. and as a fic writer, and a person who enjoys complex characters, typically the worse a character can start out, the more i want to push every button they have until they start learning some life lessons. pansy is PERFECT for this type of story. she was awful. she was raised to be the most bigoted, vapid, vain, conniving, prejudiced bully imaginable. she tried to hand harry over to voldemort! she is every resentment and insecurity rowling had as a middle schooler personified. so, if i take all of that, and try to fit it into as realistic as a person as i can, wouldn't pansy's mindset post-war be fascinating?? does she double down on dogma and hatred, or does she start to see a life and a world without division and is desperate not to be left behind? does she remain selfish and superior? or does she maybe learn there is more than one way to be good and brave? there are facets to her personality that are very queen bee-esque and despite her many flaws and failures, she still has strengths. using subtext, and a little of my own personal experiences, we can deduce that she is: confident, driven, calculating, sometimes wildly ignorant, and not very nice. in terms of a romantic story she is exploding with potential for an opposites attract (hate to love) scenario. neville is humble, content, morally steadfast, and most of all he's kind. pansy can learn a lot from him, but at the same time, neville could benefit from someone who won't coddle his more... wallflower(?) tendencies.

now i won't go into my entire history with hp fanfiction (unless you have enough time to hear ten years worth of experiences) however, i've become pretty attached to this little corner of fic for the reasons stated above. it's no secret that i like redemption stories and enemies to lovers as a romance trope. that's just what *i* enjoy. you do not have to enjoy it. but i do think it is important to think critically about the source material before deciding whether something is worth exploring or not.

i'll leave it with this, rowling has stated on the record that: "Let my girls be Hermiones, rather than Pansy Parkinsons. Let them never be Stupid Girls." and this bothers the shit out of me. i don't think girls should be hermiones or pansys or ginnys or whatever the fuck. i think girls should be whoever they are and not get told that their interests, or their experiences, or their stories are unworthy of being told because they aren't the smartest person in the room. so not only is pansy an interesting character for me to explore, she also feels like a wrong that i can make right. however small of an imprint that leaves on the world. pansy feels like a representation of what femininity is when it is defined at its worst and i intend to tear it to fucking shreds.

TLDR; pansy reinforces girl on girl hate for no other reason than vilification of teenagers, redemption arcs are fucking fire, and the idea of one character's weaknesses being another character's strength is SUCH a good foundation for romance.

thanks for the question <3

#in defense of pansy parkinson #anon #answered

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bookaddict24-7 · 1 year ago

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REVIEWS OF THE WEEK!

Books I’ve read so far in 2023!

Friend me on Goodreads here to follow my more up to date reading journey for the year!

This is going to be just ONE review because of the length.

___

212. Wild Tongues Can't Be Tamed by Various--⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

My biggest regret with this collection of essays is that I didn't read it earlier (I have an ARC that the publisher kindly sent me back in 2021...oops). I listened to the audiobook, so I had the pleasure of hearing each author read out their essays or poem and it was ✨magical✨.

Before I start reviewing each essay (because they all offered their own message and importance), I want to say that very few audiobooks have held me as captive as this one. I remember sitting very still while listening to one of my favourites and just...living in it. It was so beautiful. As a Latina, so much resonated with me!

Long review up ahead. I ran out of characters LOL.

Essay breakdowns and reviews:

1. Eres Un Pocho by Mark Oshiro

I will admit that when I started listening to this I wasn't fully invested in the book yet. I didn't know how much I would relate, or be impacted by the essays. So, some of the beginning is lost in the ether for me, BUT Oshiro was also the one that really got me into this book with their commentary on the stereotypes that the Latine community may encounter (especially in North American countries and sometimes even in the countries that are meant to be our home countries.) Oshiro had to relearn their identity as a child and even into their adult years. This reminded me a lot of families who have immigrated with children and in order to "fully incorporate" into their new home, they sometimes let their kids forget a language or the culture they come from. I related to this a bit because I was almost one of those kids, but thankfully my parents walked back this notion that in order to belong, you had to erase your "otherness". The bullying, racism, and stereotypes of what a "proper" Latine or Hispanic person should look like, sound like, or act like can wreak havoc on a child whose identity isn't as clear as society would prefer.

2. The Price of Admission by Naima Coster

I didn't connect with this one as much, however, it does deal with a very real issue in today's world with immigrants: the devastating reality of families separated by Government laws and how the stereotype of "one of the good ones" can easily be applied to Latine & Hispanic people as well--especially when it comes to who has a fighting chance at not being deported, and who just doesn't seem to offer enough for the country to not deport them.

3. Caution Song by Natasha Diaz

This one was a poem (song?) and it was a powerful depiction of stereotypes, assumptions, and expectations. One of my favourite lines from it are at the very end: "Because if you call me spicy/you should expect me to bite your tongue". Bam.

4. The Mark of a Good Man by Meg Medina

This was one of the pieces I related to the most because it was a Cuban experience essay. It dealt with the struggle of getting your family out of a birth country that makes it very, very difficult to live. It's about chasing the dream of a better life in a world unknown and taking that risk because anything has to be better than the hell you might be experiencing in your birth country.

It tackles the difficult and often-times heartbreaking familial relationships that can shape us and how they can leave us less than put together when those people leave or die. It also explores the complex gender stereotypes and norms found in Cuban communities. One of the quotes is "If only we had our men, life would be easier" and it reminded me so much of the times where I was reprimanded as a teen for doing something a man should have done for me. Finally, one of the topics that isn't explored enough in books but is brought up here is that of how many men immigrate for or with their wives or girlfriends, only to turn around and either immigrate to another country with a different partner, or find themselves a new partner in the new country (in their misguided and asshole search of the better life/dream.) I've seen this so many times and it is also a warning for any woman who falls in love with a Cuban man. I'm not saying all Cuban men are like this, but I've seen my fair share of it happening that I think it's worth mentioning in books like this one.

5. #Julian4spiderman by Julian Randall

My absolute favourite essay from the collection. It had me completely hooked and I couldn't pull myself away. The approach of using Miles Morales as a sort of template for this essay was genius. He's always been my favourite Spidey, so it was a nice surprise! It was such a powerful essay and I think it'll resonate with a lot of young Black Latine readers.

From the mention of having to correct others on how to pronounce a name (very relatable), to the fact that a teacher had Randall argue in favour of Slavery (which is fucked up), this essay had so much meaning and heart. It also had a lot of punching quotes, like "[A]merica taught us we were invisible, and the only way for the invisible to punish those who refuse to see us is to first punish ourselves", or "Afro-Latinx life is this in so many ways, to be taught that you are dangerous, and shameful and difficult to imagine." We read about the love of a father for their child, like Miles Morales's own father, and what it means to be a mixed-race Latine person whose identity is constantly questioned, despite the fact that characters like Miles never question who they are, even though if he were real, he sure as hell would be. It was a powerful essay and it left me thinking long after it was over. It was also the essay that made me want to digest the rest of the book even more.

6. Half In, Half Out: Orbiting a World Full of People of Color by Saraciea J. Fennell

I'm always intrigued when I hear stories of a Latine Indigenous person, mainly because as a Cuban, we don't have many of those stories. As my mom tells it, many if not all of Cuba's indigenous citizens were murdered during the creation of Cuba as a country. So, seeing these stories is always eye-opening and makes me wish we still had that in my country. Fennell speaks of her experience as a child taken into the foster system and put into a home with a white couple, as a result she and her sister were out in a school full of white children. Being able to see the difference between yourself and the rest of your classmates is an interesting sort of hell--you love your culture and the way that you look, but you also question it because you know it makes you different from the rest of them.

Fennell dealt with familial abandonment, finding solace in a friendship with one of the other Black girls in her classroom, and (relatable) the reality of being confused for her friends because they shared a skin colour. The amount of times I've had to tell people that I know I look like someone they know, but as Fennell writes "[N]ow that I'm older, I know that it was just white people confusing us." The final topic I'll touch on from this essay was how Fennell explores the racism that causes such a disconnection for a person from their identity. If a child looks "too white" or "too Black", they might not fit a white person's perception of what their ethnicity "should" be. I'll end with this particular quote: "The way Western culture, and, especially, American culture, shames us for being non-white is heartbreaking" and this quote is relating to the things non-white people do to make their appearance more palatable for white people (i.e. the styling of hair).

7. Haitian Sensation by Ibi Zoboi

One of the definite themes explored in this collection is that of stereotypes and how damaging they can be. Zoboi's essay is the embodiment of that and the dangers of how the proximity to whiteness can affect the way one views themselves, or others around them. I will admit, I'm not the biggest fan of Zoboi--her fictional writing doesn't resonate as much with me. BUT this isn't to say that her essay isn't powerful.

When speaking on how American culture can sometimes override a person's identity, she comments that "[It] didn't last, of course, because identity has a way of calling you back to your true self," and honestly, I found this to be incredibly important, especially for any reader who might be torn between the identity offered to them in their society and the one they have forged from family, culture, and language. There is, of course more important quotes found sprinkled in her essay, especially ones touching on the topic of being Afro-Latine (which I have seen people actively deny this identity on celebrities that are both Black and Latine--they argue this term like they're on a political grand stage, finding fun in debating someone's identity so it fits their idea of what a group(s) of people should look like) but I will end my review of her essay with this quote I loved: "I am proud to be a part of a movement that recognizes and honors the part of ourselves that colonialism tried so hard to eradicate."

8. The Land, The Ghosts, and Me by Cristina Arreola

This one had a theme worthy of the Halloween season. While Arreola explores the topic of literal ghosts and the power of lore and mysticism in Latine cultures, she also speaks on the loss of identity in a world obsessed with labelling humans in a certain way. As she states, "I wanted this ghost gone, yet I feared the void. Who was I without ghosts? They were an essential part of my being. They were the thing that made me feel whole and real and connected in some small way to the place that birthed me and made me who I am." An absolutely stunning quote and metaphoric exploration of identity and what it means to feel that ever-present threat of losing the thing that haunts those who don't fit certain societal expectations--especially when you carry a culture with you that is always under threat of being erased or forgotten.

Her final quote that I highlighted captured this notion wholly and while the essay is scary and probably the most metaphoric of all the essays in the collection, it holds a haunting power of its own: "My whole life, I've been trying on different versions of myself, haunted by the weight of the expectations of who I'm meant to be. How strange and wonderful it is, I think now, that the ghosts don't know who they are either. The ghosts are haunted, too." Simply gorgeous.

9. Paraiso Negro by Kahlil Haywood

Haywood starts his essay with an already powerful quote: "When people think about a Spanish speaker they don't necessarily rush to think about someone who looks like me." What follows is a recounting of something I myself experienced growing up--going back to my family's birth country (and my own), where I spent summers with my cousin and friends, both learning more about my culture, my family, and my first language. The misadventures, the way things change over time, and the unforgettable memories of a childhood spent somewhere other than Canada and the US was like a projector in my mind, showcasing images of a childhood never to be forgotten. As Haywood says about getting to have these experiences without realizing how we were privy to moments in history and lives forever changed, "It's something that you could easily take for granted as a kid."

Of all the stories, this one held the most nostalgia. This essay also spoke on the important topic of how diverse Latine cultures can be. I think, as the daughter of an interracial couple who had to argue that me being a mixed Latina IS an actual thing to another Latine person, that this topic is incredibly important. At one point, Haywood even mentions a situation he's been in when he's been forced to ask himself "How Latino am I? How Black am I?" This is something most Afro-Latine people may be asking themselves, especially when they live in a world that barely recognizes the term.

10. Cuban Impostor Syndrome by Zakiya N. Jamal

I found this essay interesting and such a great commentary on how Americans and Canadians handle the topic of being Latine and race. Being someone who has been back to Cuba many times since we immigrated to Canada when I was seven, I've been privy to seeing how Cubans treat diverse people. There is definitely racism--Cuba is an incredibly diverse country--but it reminds me of when I made a comment about what mixed people like me were called in Cuba to a Black American once and how offended she was. It is definitely a case of different cultures/countries=different perceptions of race.

With that being said, Jamal's experience as the Black granddaughter of a Cuban who didn't teach her children Spanish (a big part of Latine identity because not having the language might feel like you're missing a piece of yourself) is both heartbreaking and eye-opening. Her starting her essay by sharing an experience where one Cuban didn't fully internalize that she was saying she's Cuban sets the tone for the rest of her essay. She does not meet an expectation and it is devastating. Another example of the consequences of denying the identity a child seeks during their formative years is that her mom didn't even ask her if she wanted a quinceañera, which must have further thrown her off when she saw her Latine friends having their own fifteenth birthdays being celebrated.

But I think that while it is important to note that though "[f]rom a young age, my mom made sure I knew that Black was beautiful and that our culture and history were meant to be celebrated, always" it shows, yet again, the dichotomy of celebrating one aspect of a person over another, rather than letting them co-habit to form an identity. This is, along the stereotypes explored, one of the most consistent topics explored in this collection--that internal and societal power struggle between two warring identities. And this, of course, is the beautiful body of the "Cuban Impostor Syndrome" essay.

11. More than Nervios by Lilliam Rivera

Telling my Latina mother I have anxiety, or that she herself has anxious thoughts is like nails on a chalkboard. "Solamente estoy nerviosa!" Rivera's essay hits home with how much mental health is downplayed in Latine communities. As she says, "Depression is a word never uttered in my family. It simply doesn't exist." This is so incredibly dangerous, especially as the world changes and awareness grows.

Another quote, "America is built on the belief if you are a modern woman and you work hard enough, you can have it all," serves to show how much further North America pushes this narrative that if you have everything, there's no way you can be depressed. Not only is your mental health non-existent in many Latine families, the portrayal of hard work and achieving certain life "goals" is further proof that silly you, there's no way you're depressed.

This essay could be super triggering, so be ready for a very frank conversation about Rivera's mental health. But I think it's incredibly important, especially if you can relate to her and her familial experience. Her quote, "the cycle to present pain as weakness ends with me" when referencing her daughters and how open she will be with them about mental health, is something I hope comes to fruition. Rivera is presenting the breaking of a cycle that I'm hopeful future generations will adopt.

12. Alaiyo by Jasmine Mendez

Probably the most creative essay of all, Mendez's essay speaks of taking back the power in spaces that refuse to open up for Black, Indigenous, and Latine people. But throughout the essay, we see the reoccurring theme of others dictating the kind of space one can take up. One of the biggest and toughest pills to swallow is when you can read the racist levels in a comment, like in this quote: "'You don't fit the part' is just theatre teacher code for "you are not the right skin color." When I tell you that I've had a similar conversation like this back when I was in high school, and I'm sure as hell that we're not the only ones who've experienced this--whether it's as a child, or as an adult.

Her quote: "My Black friends always said I wasn't Black or at least not 'Black enough,'" is incredibly relatable to me because as someone who is mixed and always struggled with whether I felt too Black to be white, or too white to be Black, or having been raised as a Latina, rather than a mixed Black and white person, I couldn't relate to the experience of Black Canadians. This is a constant internal battle--even one I had to battle with some of my old friends back before I had a better grasp on my identity. A lot of people who don't struggle with a sense of dual identity can't truly understand how disorientating it can be to simply exist in a world that is constantly trying to pull you in one direction or another.

There's also a creepy instance where a white teacher hella acts inappropriate with her and it gave me the biggest ick.

13. Invisible by Ingrid Rojas Contreras

While I didn't highlight as much in this essay, I found it to be the most timely. Across the world, people are arguing and discussing political beliefs, human rights, and the treatment of others. Contreras is a very (rightfully so) angry woman who refuses to be kept quiet by her in-laws. This is a classic story of policing one's anger and the incredible power of ignorance.

"The United States of America was then and is now living through a time that makes whiteness visible, even to those who lived their whole lies willingly ignoring what it entails." Although this essay collection came out a couple of years ago, the disparity between how white people are treated in comparison to people of other races grows. We see it in the media, in the justice system, in history, and in politics. And the policing of those who refuse to accept the status quo is very, very real. At one point, even Contreras's husband comments that she is "fucking scary when [she's] mad. [...] [Does she] think [his] parents are going to want to talk to [her]?" Just, ugh.

I'll finish my commentary on this essay with this powerful quote: "Violence begins with language or lack of it. If you insist that something doesn't exist, it is in that darkness that calamity slips in."

14. Abuela's Greatest Gift by Janel Martinez

While Martinez's essay brings up the importance of family and tradition, it brings further attention to Blackness and how "There's no room for Blackness within Hispanidad or Latinidad." This was an important essay and exploration of identity, but I am running out of characters.

15. A Mi Orden: A Meditation of Dichos by Elizabeth Acevedo

This essay explores the expectations of purity, family, & the sexism of parenting boys vs. girls in Latine cultures (as lived by your's truly, as well). Also important, but no more characters. Welp.

I super recommend this book!

___

Have you read this collection? Would you recommend it?

___

Happy reading!

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youngerfrankenstein · 1 year ago

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Alright, who wants to hear me talk about my thoughts on a show made for 9 year olds? Part 2!

I’ll admit, I think part of my issue with Prime is just that I set my expectations fairly high. Need to stop doing that. Ever. Part of it was remembering little about season 1 beyond I liked it as a teen. But as it seems this franchise will forever be, kind of a mixed bag, but glad I watched it.

I will say that bar a few I quite like the designs for the bots in the show. The style was clearly taking inspiration from the Bay films while still keeping the designs clear and distinguishable. That said the animation can be pretty janky at times and the locations often quite bland. The latter of which was probably for budget reasons and the former for both budget reasons and the tech of the time.

I also generally like most of the bot characters. I wish Arcee got more focus, especially as she’s introduced to us first, but she’s fun. Kind of a grouch but there for people when they need her. Bulkhead is generally a lot more likeable in this incarnation than Animated, though I don’t think he’ll ever be a favourite. Bumblebee can’t talk here either but they do a decent job of still making him feel like part of the team. Optimus is generally wonderful, a bit distant but clearly intended to be, someone you immediately understand why people would follow. And I fucking love Ratchet in this show, he’s marvellous, more Ratchet please. Wonder why the main team was almost identical to Animated?

Not sure I liked what they did to Wheeljack, did quite like Ultra Magnus. And holy shit if Smokescreen isn’t the worst character in the franchise so far. I hate him so. much. and he brought down any episode he was the focus of. Is this partly because he’s written more than any other character to appeal to 8-year-old boys, something I am not? Yes. But that’s hardly all. He feels like either the pet character of a writer or a studio mandate, I’m not sure which is worse. (Or if either is true, don’t quote me)

The Decepticons, as per usual, are the highlights though. I don’t think there’s one of them I don’t enjoy watching. Starscream and his sniveling, Knockout and his vanity, Airachnid and her sadism (for science!) and the rest are still so much fun to watch for their evil and, even more so, their dysfunction. That said this show also drove something home for me, and that is DAMN do I love Frank Welker as Megatron. Like it’s been clear the man has talent for a long time but wow. The way he can be both quietly sinister and a raging monster is EXCELLENT.

The voice cast is generally quite good, if a bit odd. Peter Cullen and Frank Welker coming back to the roles they made iconic (twice for Welker technically!) but you also get names like Gina Torres, Jeffrey Combs (who I suppose DOES voice The Question) and even Dwayne Johnson in the first episode.

I will say, as seems to be the usual, I am in Fuck Them Kids mode when it comes to the main human characters, who come in Brat, Kid Genius and Blander Than Gruel flavours. Then again by the later seasons it felt like the showrunners/writers didn’t even want them around much either. Will say they have different amounts of believability in their relationship to their assigned bot. Miko and Bulkhead honestly feel like friends who care a lot about each other. Raf and Bee are fine, but honestly by the end I was mostly thinking of Ratchet as Raf’s bot. Jack and Arcee don’t feel like anything really, and you would think that would be the most important one.

Really the writing is the thing. Some of it is VERY good, clever ideas or scenes that leave me on the edge of my seat. And some of it is very bad, comedy that falls flat and “as competent as the plot needs”-itis for all. Not to mention some of the weird stuff with seasons 2 and three, like putting multiple villains on ice and then bringing them back to not… do much in season 3. Part of me wonders if there were issues with the studio and no one was ever sure if/when they were getting renewed. But I must be clear, I am just guessing and could be way off.

Will say I generally enjoyed the wrap-up movie, cute ending, some nice character interactions. Even if “Satan taking over my body made me learn oppression is bad. I’m heading out.” Is a very silly way to wrap up Megatron. Nothing special (and let’s face it, was probably a rewritten and repurposed three-parter) but fun.

Honestly at times a little awkwardly pro-military but it’s an American action show, what do you expect lol. Could have been a LOT worse.

And now to Earthspark! …Which looks to be focusing even more on humans… Oh well. Guess we shall see what it’s like!

#Frare watches the silly robot show #Frare’s Transformers writeups

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muji-milk · 2 years ago

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hey! same anon who said that the quotes around affirmation felt very terf-like. first i wanted to say that your response is exactly why i wanted to give you a chance to answer, but i was just letting you know how the way you wrote it came across to me (who is admittedly an american and maybe there’s a text difference for how things are written. we use quotes to dismiss an idea or to indicate sarcasm) and offer a reason as to why those people may have unfollowed without waiting to hear more from you. i think having a healthy conversation around how we treat dysphoria is important!

anyway! i think maybe the disconnect lies in what we call gender affirming care. i’m sure that’s the technical term for what results in medical transition in the UK, but it should be more general! i would absolutely agree that your experience where you sought counseling and worked out what your gender was and that transitioning wasn’t for you totally counts as gender affirming care. you weren’t pressured to transition and you were allowed to explore what you felt and what you needed. i have a friend who went through the same as you and feels better without having transitioned. i agree it’s also a shame that we have no way to keep track of people who have done this.

in a perfect world, counseling would be the best step for a young person who’s figuring out their gender. in fact, that was a requirement here in the US for a loooong time before someone could see an endocrinologist for hormones. to reiterate my point from my last ask though, not all counselors are one in the same about how they counsel people. i say this 1. as a trans person who (briefly) went through conversion therapy as a teen, and 2. as someone about to graduate with a masters in counseling. they drill into us in my program that we aren’t supposed to let our beliefs change how we counsel someone, but it does happen. so, just like many of the medical clinics here in the US that would turn away young ppl trying to transition, i also worry about how many of them would be affected by counselors who would steer them from the help they need. i hope that made sense, i just wanted to kind of add that to the conversation.

Tbh i tried to italicise the word affirmation but tumblr mobile kept fucking it up 🫠 so yeah the marks were just emphasis.

Like you said in a perfect world there should be more steps of evaluation. (Honestly, in a perfect world no one would be trans but that's another thing to discuss) but if we're talking about improving the current system, it should really be reframed 'gender related care'. Or gender considerate psychoanalysis. Or gender focussed counseling. Any of these terms instantly imply a more neutral and comprehensive approach.

But yes despite a rebranding or the terminology its still soo hard to get true impartially from anyone involved! Even you being trans, if you become a professional counselor that would create a personal bias within you. Just as being a woman or man, being rich, or black or old, etc, would do.

Regarding the approach to treatment of gender dysphoric youth, time is the biggest teller. Not statistics about trans peoples deaths and lives (which we don't even have enough of to draw conclusions. Its still a fairly modern thing!), not the opinions of your parents, not the advice of an affirmation clinic or a conversion therapist; but most importantly, not even your own feelings can be said to be true and trustworthy and permanent. People change their minds every day about trivial things and major issues, you feel like a different person every year, you learn and grow and its a humans' lifelong task to find and understand oneself. So, like you, I'm also worried about those being steered in a particularly firm direction at a young age. Whichever that direction is! Neither affirmation or conversion therapy should be the only immediately presented choices because you can't know how the individual's inner feelings will grow and change as they get older. That's why words like 'affirmation' and 'life saving' and even 'living your truth' are so loaded; they constantly present that one route as the best option and the younger you start the better, the way you think now is how you'll think forever, and you'll just die otherwise.

#but about myself: i didnt receive counseling related to gender #i never actually mentioned it to her #it was like over a year after i changed back to myself and it was no longer struggle for me by then #so i wouldnt count thay as gender affirming care #the literal definition of GA care: to support an individuals gender identity when it conflicts with their assigned birth gender #soooo that isnt a neutral approach to dysphoria.......

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lakesbian · 2 years ago

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re heartbreaker’s death: the most interesting aspect of this wouldn’t even be the act of murder itself, it’d be. like. for the last 5 years, he’s wanted to get revenge. he gets up every day largely just because he wants revenge. so he’s sixteen, and he kills his father. and then it’s done, and he got his revenge. and he has to go wash the blood off his hands. and he’s realizing it didn’t fill anything inside of him.

so what the fuck does he do?

if you’re alec, what the fuck do you do with your life now?

in my head it’s about catharsis and very wandering and at times violent healing and never being able to go back to how you used to be as a kid but finding a way to become something else instead ♥

re planned relationship status in the AU: you’re misremembering how taylor interpreted their relationship, fyi. to quote her, “They’re together. I don’t know if it’s romantic, but… they’re together.” + an assumption that it could become solidly romantic in the future.

the real reason as to why their relationship isn’t particularly romantic is that wildbow has very much stated he Doesn’t Like Writing Romances, and that shows in worm. most of the featured romantic relationships are some form of overshadowed and dysfunctional, and the one exception (parian + foil) is insufferably twee w/ no real personality to it. i don’t think he would have known how to write alec & aisha in a romantic relationship w/o it scanning as weird, because they don’t fit the mold of dysfunctional Or twee.

i, not wildbow, have taken the liberty of deciding that alec has a vague crush on aisha. he is not aware of it, because he has even worse emotional literacy than taylor, and it’s significantly overshadowed by their connections on other levels in terms of importance. aisha thinks he’s kinda cute but has no reason or intention to escalate their relationship beyond “friendship that’s also kind of a Thing in the way early-teen relationships are often Things without actually dating.” they kiss one (1) time and make occasional sex jokes but that’s about it.

they do end up dating somewhere along the line post-behemoth, but it’s nothing like how someone like, say, taylor would conceptualize a romantic relationship. “heart to heart btwn two people without much heart left to go around” applies and that makes it weirdly more functional for dating while being supervillains w/o it ending up like brian/taylor.

re healing process: this is not Alec Becomes Neurotypical, The AU. healing for alec involves learning how to be more in touch with the feelings he does have & continuing to develop his giving-a-shit abilities. he’ll be significantly more well-adjusted by the time he & taylor are 18, but he is still going to be a shithead.

re ward: ward is not real and it cannot hurt me. everything i hear from people reading wards indicates that it sucks at worldbuilding and is bad and furthermore not good. i don’t know what the fuck happens in wormverse after GM ends, but it’s not ward, i can tell you that! they would not get married for tax benefits though. they don’t need tax benefits they just commit tax evasion.

Does Alex still have a near-death Behemoth experience in your au, or is he just lucky enough to avoid the whole Situation

oh, he abso-fucking-lutely has a near-death behemoth experience. alec killing himself for aisha is an incredible culmination of his character arc. it's like.

his dad fucked him up. his dad fucked him up so badly that he can't feel things in the same way as everyone else anymore, so badly that he has no emotional literacy for what he does feel because he had to repress every last drop of it to survive. everyone else gets to have a fire inside, and he's running on smoldering charcoal and fumes.

he's seven and he hates his dad. he's eight and he hates his dad. he's nine and ten and he really fucking hates his dad. he's eleven and twelve and he's high all the time so he doesn't have to think about how much he hates his dad and his life. and then he's thirteen, and he's running away, and he wants revenge. he wants to be able to look down at his dad from a throne and know that he's better than him, and he can't hurt him anymore, and he's free and safe and stronger now.

he's trying to heal, although he doesn't know enough about himself to realize it. he's trying to be a better person than his dad, one who cares about people, although he doesn't know enough about himself to realize that, either--he just knows that sometimes he does things for other people he doesn't feel like doing just because it feels like he should.

there is still very little that keeps him getting out of bed every day. he's alive because he semi-enjoys the smallest things, like good food and video games, and because he wants revenge.

he can't imagine why taylor wouldn't want revenge on sophia. he doesn't understand why he wants to hurt sophia for abusing taylor so badly, doesn't understand why he's thinking about his dad while he's doing it. he doesn't understand why it bothers him that sophia has a family that loves her and she doesn't even appreciate it.

but anyway. Then He Meets Aisha. and then he has just one really good thing going for him, and it's the best person he's ever met. she's funny. she's interesting. she's the only person that ever talks to him. as aisha put it, they had heart-to-hearts between two people who didn't have much heart left to go around. they shared each other, just by talking. she even lets him use his power on her--intimate in the closest way he knows how, intimate in a way that lets him feel something.

and then he's at the behemoth fight, and the best person he's ever met is about to die.

and he doesn't really see a point in being alive anymore, not if she's gone. the revenge wouldn't be worth never getting to see her smile again. the best person he's ever met deserves better than going out like that.

so he kills himself for her. it's not a guarantee that she'll live. he kills himself for the fractional chance that she'll make it.

he'll never know it, but she does survive. and, to be clear, that was an Absolutely Fucking Insane situation for her. she's thirteen, and alec was her first Thing. but more importantly, he was the first and only person who's ever really seen her. and he liked what he saw so much that he killed himself for her right in front of her.

so. she kills his dad for him.

she says that the best part of him would've killed his dad, and she's right. she knows that the part of him that would have killed his dad is the part of him that cared, that had a drive for something. she knows that his impassivity is a tragedy, and she puts that into his memorial statue--comedy/tragedy masks, but the tragedy mask is replaced with a bored mask. she's not the type of person to care about revenge, but he gave up his life for her, and so she returns the sentiment best she can by doing what he always wanted to do with his life for him. she kills the person who fucked him up, and then she leaves all of his wedding rings at alec's memorial. proof that she has gotten back at the cause of the tragedy for him. she tries to become everything they could've been together if he hadn't died for her.

the fundamental question of this AU, then, is this: what would have happened if alec hadn't died? how would he have turned out if they were allowed to finish growing up together? what would he be like if he was allowed to keep healing, if he had taken that culminating action for aisha and then kept living?

it does Absolutely Rock on a storytelling level that he dies, and that's because of what the action which leads to his death Means for him as a character. this AU isn't about sidestepping that, it's about "okay, so you do the biggest thing. and you're still here. what the fuck do you do with your life now?"

(answer: get kicked in the shins twenty times by a very upset aisha, go on a road trip to kill your dad, learn how to cry again for the first time in 7 years, do the only thing you ever wanted to do with your life and experience the new and wonderful terror of having to find something else to keep living for, accidentally reluctantly adopt your 13ish siblings, and, most importantly, pull some mad fucking pranks on taylor when she visits brockton bay for her 18th birthday)

#i should make an outline document for fun. i Should.

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princecharmingwinks · 2 years ago

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Sterek Fic Rec - July 2022. Haha you thought I was going to be late, didn’t you? And to be fair I’ve only made it into my normal timeframe by 2hrs but I count this as still making it. So! Onto more fics - enjoy!

In The Name Of Science by Nutellargh (1/1 | 1K | General)

Submission for incorrect sterek quotes challenge March 2021

Prompt: derek - Yesterday I overheard erica saying “Are you sure this is a good idea?” and stiles replying “Trust me.” and I have never fled a room so fast in my life.

Connecting the Dots by thePurebloodPrat (1/1 | 4K | Mature)

"The sharp clatter of his mug of dry erase markers hitting the floor isn’t enough to draw Stiles’ attention away from the clue board he’s staring at from an uncomfortably short distance, but his hand failing to make contact with a new pen while blindly fumbling for said missing mug finally is. He takes a moment to scrub a hand over his eyes and he drops to the floor to pull the markers out from under the desk where they’d rolled, mumbling to himself about rewriting the last section he’d scribbled on the board in red instead of yellow. This was only a… minor setback. The third one in as many hours, but that was hardly the important part. The people disappearing throughout Beacon Hills only to be discovered exactly eight days later in eight separate pieces, well… That seems like the part that’s far more important."

---

Stiles has been awake far longer than he really ought to have been. Derek doesn't want to admit it, but when Stiles doesn't harass him after school the day after finding out about a new supernatural sighting, he gets concerned.

punch-drunk by elisela (1/1 | 6K | Mature)

Derek knows he’s staring, knows he should stop, drag his focus back to his daughter and not this—this stranger, gorgeous as he is with his slight upturned nose and bright eyes, lips that Derek is going to see in his dreams and long fingers folded into a fist that his jaw rests on. He should stop staring but he feels punch-drunk, knocked off his feet by the overwhelming attraction he feels, blood pumping so fast he can hear it rushing in his ears, can feel it in his pulse points.

The guy turns his head to look up at Derek and winks—winks, and Derek gets a glimpse of a black bar that pierces through the end of his eyebrow, and he realizes he really needs to grab Evie and get out of there when he starts wondering if this guy has a tongue piercing to go along with the rest, or just how far across his broad shoulders the tattoos go, if they stretch all the way down his tapered hips, lines like a map for Derek to follow with his tongue.

Tell Me, So I Know by TroubleIWant (1/1 | 7K | Mature)

It took years for Derek to finally confront the way he felt about Stiles, and even after he figured it out he could only explain in Spanish. It took them two years more to get to where they were now. Only with neither of them quite willing to commit, where exactly is that, anyways?

Well, for Stiles it’s a deserted stretch of road behind the Hale house, half trapped in a car wreck after being abducted by hunters. Frankly, he could really use Derek’s help if he’s going to get out of this alive. Mates are supposed to be able to tell when the other is in pain, right? As Derek would probably say, 'querido, no.'

Or, a love story in two parts... and two languages.

Sexily Ever After by indentations (whenwordsmakesense) (1/1 | 1K | Explicit)

After fighting off the latest supernatural terror loose on their town, Derek and Stiles finally find their way to each other.

Operation: Chick Flick by Inell (1/1 | 7K | Teen)

Stiles knows agreeing to be Derek’s fake date for Cora’s wedding is the stupidest thing he’s ever done, but it’s a little difficult to say no to the man he’s been in love with for seven years.

Inattentional Blindness by aussiebee (1/1 | 5K | Explicit)

Derek finally sees Stiles... and then promptly melts down about it.

He’s two people away from the counter, though, when it happens. Derek has just finished scanning the board overhead and let his eyes drift back down to the guy just in time to see him bend down to pick up his backpack from the floor when the guy turns. There’s a moment of complete cessation of brain activity when Derek’s libido registers lips! Eyes! Skinnnnn! before his thoughts begin spinning like a Gravitron, turning his brain to paste against the inside of his skull because what the fuck, the guy he’s been quietly lusting over while he waits in line for coffee is fucking Stiles.

What Derek says when he thinks Stiles wont understand by Delilah2040 (1/1 | 3K | General)

five times Derek complimented Stiles in Spanish thinking he wouldn't understand and the one time stiles confesses not only that he understood the whole time but much much more.

Hot Gym Guy by jesuisgrace (1/1 | 900 | Mature)

“What are you looking at, Stiles?”

Stiles looks up from his phone to find Hot Gym Guy smirking at him. Fuck. He definitely doesn’t blush and stammer because he definitely wasn’t just looking at Hot Gym Guy’s instagram. Absolutely, definitely wasn’t watching him squat for the millionth time since he posted the story yesterday afternoon.

My Tongue Dances Behind My Lips by xxjinchuurikixx (1/1 | 8K | Explicit)

Stiles is seventeen and very, very horny. Derek just adds to the hormones, and Stiles likes to torture himself, getting off to thought of Derek’s hands, his mouth, his everything. Mostly those things on Stiles in some way. One night, Derek gets him to spill the truth.

princecharmingwinks special mention (I only recently fell into a bodyguard Derek and president son Stiles vibe but I like it very much ! And this fic is an awesome example of it <3 )

reGuardless by raisesomehale (1/1 | 3K | Mature)

The president had been to the point when he explained to Derek the rules of the job.

Stiles was in the room while these rules were recited: Never take your eyes off of him in public. That’s how he liked to dodge his last bodyguards. No more than an arm's length apart. He’s more slippery than you’d think. Escort him to and from appearances. Intervene in any situation that might tarnish the Stilinski image...

The list went on and on. As did the games of chicken Stiles initiated to test Derek with these rules.

Enjoy enjoy! Hope you find some good reads here. Remember to leave kudos and comments so we can give virtual big hugs to our amazing fandom writers. Till next time!

#sterek #fanfiction #fic rec #teen wolf #stiles stilinski #derek hale #princecharminglists

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plant-flwrs · 4 years ago

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Heyy!! I wish you would write a fic where Fred is lowkey really into Shakespear and Romeo and Juliet and tries to woo the reader cs she’s muggleborn? Idk but it would be so cute!! 🥺

romeo and juliet // fred weasley

masterlist!

summary: Fred reads Romeo and Juliet and can’t help but fall in love

a/n: schools out, so hopefully that means more time for writing! thanks for the request anon i thought it was adorable, hope you like it!!

(2.5k)

At first, it was a secret. Fred had no intention of actually enjoying it. He had simply accepted the book Professor Lupin had lent him, thumbed through it, and stayed up all night to read it by accident.

Maybe it was because Lupin had seen the way Fred looked at you across the class, separated by hidden bloodlines and upbringings. You, with your muggle pens that you smuggled in. You, with your muggle records you used an entire bag to carry onto the train. You, with your muggle magazines that spread through the common room like wildfire. You, with those weird little things called cigarettes that you sold in your third year to the older students. You, with the way the older pureblood witches would sit and ask you to do their hair for them because only you could do all the newest muggle styles. You, with your reluctance to Quidditch but your love for soccer.

Fred was gone, absolutely gone for you. He was even more behind than usual in class because he couldn't help but find you with his eyes, no matter the room you were in or the distance between you both. Remus Lupin, the secret romantic, asked Fred to stay after class.

"Mr. Weasley," Professor Lupin called, feet kicked up on his desk while he levitated a novel wandlessly in front of him. A half-eaten apple rested on a napkin beside a chocolate wrapper and Fred was forced to remember the breakfast he had barely eaten, choosing to instead pretend he hadn't noticed the fact you had only sat a few seats away.

Fred stood in front of Lupin's desk, waiting as the room emptied out and George shot him a wink from the doorway.

"Yes, Professor?" Fred rocked on his feet, hands stuffed in the pockets of his robe. He tried not to wonder if you had noticed that he had been called behind, or if you had noticed him at all. He vaguely registered that this might what his brother would call 'pathetic'.

"You never turned in that essay on wandless defenses," Lupin said slowly, the book moving to rest on his desk as he moved his feet to the ground.

Fred was quiet, biting the inside of his cheek as he couldn't seem to recall the last time a teacher had bothered to talk to him about his assignments instead of deeming him a 'lost cause' or a student who 'simply wouldn't apply themselves'.

Professor Lupin sighed, moving again to stand. Fred thought he caught a flash of pain on the professor's face, perhaps a wince as he stood, but the moment was gone before Lupin was giving Fred a calculating and sympathetic glance.

"Do you need an extension?" Remus offered, leaning his hip against the desk and inclining his head to show Fred the importance of this offering.

"I'd appreciate that, Professor," Fred admitted.

They were silent again, Remus still looking at Fred like he was something to figure out. Remus shifted, eyes dropped to his desk and lips lifting.

"What's got you so preoccupied?"

Fred was blushing before he could think of a lie, and then he realized he didn't want to lie. He hadn't even told George about his crush on you- no doubt it was obvious. Fred had had flings and crushes on loads of girls, all fun and easy, but this felt heavier. He didn't want to have a fling with you.

"I guess-" Fred sighed, removing his hands from his robes and wiping them on his trousers, "I've just been distracted recently. A lot on my mind."

"Ah," Remus smiled fondly, nodding slowly.

A book began to move from a pile in the corner, elegantly and easily avoiding the tall stacks of clutter and various lumps of papers to levitate to Fred. Fred reached out for it, moving it in his hand to read the cover. Romeo and Juliet.

"I'll make you a deal, Fred," Professor Lupin said, his voice sounding so mischievous that Fred was surprised he hadn't become ten years younger right in front of him. "You can either write the essay on wandless defenses, or you can read that and write an essay on 'Romeo and Juliet'."

Fred thumbed through the book, eyebrows furrowed. He had never liked reading, most of the books at the Burrow belonged to Bill, Percy, or his father. He was pretty sure that George would find Fred reading Shakespeare to be just as funny as the time they released Cornish Pixies in the Slytherin changing rooms.

"Yeah, alright."

Fred managed to eat dinner that night, with you safely at the opposite end of the table. The curtains to his fourposter had been closed for hours and the light from his wand had been steadily bright for just as long. He had gone from laying on his back, head propped up beneath his arms, to resting his back against the headboard, to sitting upright in the center of his bed, head propped on his fist, to laying on his stomach, to laying on his back again with his head at the foot of his bed, and soon enough, the sun was flooding through a crack in the curtains. He had just finished Romeo and Juliet when he heard the showers starting.

"Lupin!"

Remus stopped and watched Fred catch up to him. He looked tired and simultaneously wide awake, his hair was a mess, and Remus was almost certain that he was wearing his pajama pants beneath his school robes.

"Mr. Weasley," Remus said cordially, continuing his walk to the greenhouse.

"I wanted to talk to you about that book you lent me-"

"Oh, you can keep it, if you'd like. I've read it dozens of times."

Fred hesitated, a wide smile spreading over his face, "Oh, thanks, Professor! It's just, I wanted to tell you I really liked it."

"You've finished it, then?" Remus asked with an impressed smile.

"Read it last night," Fred admitted, somewhat embarrassed.

"I look forward to the essay, then," Lupin said with a kind smile and a nod, turning into the greenhouses and leaving Fred in the corridor.

Inside his robes, he felt the weight of the tiny book against his chest. He kept it in a pocket there, fingers itching to hold it and read it again.

He couldn't help the roaring thoughts in his head. The idea that you were his Juliet, that you and he could find a hidden love, just for you two, amongst your external differences. He was oddly disappointed by the ending and decided he might not completely finish the book if he read it again, perhaps pretend it ended differently. He leaned his back against the stone wall behind him, fighting a blushing smile from his face.

So, Fred loved Shakespeare in secret. He loved reading in secret. He loved the weight of the book in his hands in secret. He loved the words and the phrases in secret. He loved the way it made him think in secret. He loved you in secret. He loved in secret.

Until you started dating Thomas Meadowbrooke. Thomas was a Ravenclaw, wickedly smart, handsome, kind, and the victim of many of the Weasley twins' pranks for a while. George didn't directly ask Fred why they were suddenly pranking this one boy so relentlessly all of a sudden, but he didn't need to.

Thomas wore blazers with patches on the elbows and combed his silky hair down the middle. He always had a flower in his coat pocket to give to you and he always carried a book of poetry with him. He was sensitive and wistful in all the ways girls loved, including you.

You thought Thomas was painfully boring. He would fawn over you in the most annoying ways, giving you poems that he wrote (horrendously awful, they were) and quoting lines from old and boring books to you. He didn't listen to Joan Jett or Janis Joplin and he cringed when you played your records. He suggested Bach or Debussy instead. He was boring.

You had only agreed to go out with him because he asked. Thomas Meadowbrooke may have been able to put a cornish pixie to sleep just by talking to it, but he was undeniably handsome. Well, he was more handsome before he had fallen victim to a particularly entertaining Weasley twin prank that turned his hair gelled and spiked up for a few days.

You broke up with Thomas soon after. He took it well, saying it gave him fuel to finish some poetry he hadn't been inspired enough for before.

Remus heard this gossip quite excitedly.

"She did, did she?" Remus tilted his head, a coy smirk on his lips.

The smell of fertilizer was strong, but he learned not to mind it as he watched the merry witch digging in various pots.

"He was quite heartbroken, the poor thing. Filius said that when he did routine bed checks, he could hear Thomas crying for weeks!" Professor Sprout sighed, patting down the soil and checking for weeds.

"Teen romance is always quite fickle," Remus commented, following Pomona as she moved to the next pot.

"Says you!" Pomona playfully scolded Remus, her red cheeks filling as she smiled.

Remus chuckled, thinking back to Sirius who would sneak into his office later to distract him from grading papers.

"You know, Pomona," Remus said in that voice of his, the one that got Sprout to drop her trowel and lean in close to hear the latest gossip. "I think Fred Weasley's got a bit of a crush on Y/n."

Pomona gasped, dirty hand flying to cover her mouth. She paused, scrunching up her face and sticking her tongue out to spit out the clump of dirt.

"He hasn't!" she continued, not minding Remus' amused smile and the clean rag he offered her to wipe her hands.

"He's always staring at her," Remus said, thinking on it. "I reckon he's quite the secret romantic."

Pomona cooed and awed as she continued to tend to her plants, she and Remus trading anymore gossip that they could think of.

The weather changed at quite a convenient time for Fred. With the slightly warm but still a bit chilled fall weather, Fred could dawn his lighter coats. His lighter coats that happened to have wonderfully shaped pockets on the inside, just the right size for a book.

Fred wondered if you had gone out with Thomas because Ravenclaw book nerds were your type, or if you had broken up with him because Ravenclaw book nerds weren't your type. Fred had spent almost all of the warm weather contemplating how he was going to continue to live if he was determined to remain secretly in love with you. By fall he had figured it out.

Fred wasn't going to hide anything, not the books he had recently begun to love, or the way he loved so strongly. He wasn't going to miss meals because you were so distracting. He wasn't going to suffocate under his crush on you.

It was a beautiful day. George was up in the dorms with Lee working on a prank and Fred had decided to take a walk down to the Black Lake. His lighter coat was a bit heavier because of the book in the pocket, and Fred pushed his hair out of his eyes as he looked down at the ground to avoid stepping on tree roots. He found a nice spot beneath a tree, resting against the trunk and reading.

"Hey, Fred," a voice called, coming closer as they easily avoided the maze of tree roots.

Fred looked up to see you, in those perfect muggle clothes you wore any chance you could, hair styled in that wonderful muggle way, one of those muggle cigarettes tucked behind your ear, walking towards him.

"Hey," he responded, surprised by how easy his voice sounded.

"Have you been reviewing at all for Lupin's?" You sat next to Fred like it was the easiest thing in the world, brushing your shoulder against his.

"No, not really," Fred closed his book with his thumb tucked between the pages saving his spot.

"Mmm," you hummed, leaning your head back against the tree and closing your eyes. "What're you reading?"

"Romeo and Juliet," Fred replied, looking at your profile while he had the chance.

"Didn't think that was your thing," you said playfully, opening one eye to catch Fred looking at you.

He flushed and turned his gaze to his hands in his lap. "Me neither," he admitted, swallowing.

"I always liked ‘The Taming of the Shrew’, personally."

Fred smiled to himself, because of course, you had also read Shakespeare, and of course, you would have a cool favorite.

"I like that one, too," Fred said lamely, enjoying the way you were smiling at him.

By winter, Fred had devised a plan. It was perfect, more perfect than any prank he had created or any Zonko's product he had bought. He would die if he kept all this love to himself, so he decided all he needed was one kiss.

The Yule Ball was in full swing, the classical and slow music long forgotten as everyone moved to the dance floor and rocked to the loud and fast rhythm. Fred had seen you when you first arrived, noticing with glee that you were alone, and hadn't lost sight of you since. He had removed himself from the heavily crowded dance floor, stumbling to the table with the juice he and George had spiked hours earlier. He loosened the collar of his robes and pushed his already disheveled hair out of his face.

You watched Fred move through the crowd like a tornado, a mass of energy that you felt required to look at and admire. He strode to the table, a quiet and self-satisfied smirk on his lips as he took a long sip of punch.

Fred caught you staring at him with pleasant unexpectedness. You looked just as beautiful as you did when the night started, skin glowing and everything dawned upon you with your magical muggle-ness. Fred put his cup down, a comfortable pink hue warming his cheeks, and approached you. He touched his hand to yours.

"Hey, Fred," you said with an entertained smirk, glancing down at his hand on yours.

"I need you to do me a favor," he slurred, voice easy and breath warm as it landed on your skin.

"What kind of favor?"

"I need you to kiss me," Fred pulled his mouth away from your ear, looking to your face.

He didn't have much of an opportunity, though, before your lips were on his and you stole his breath. He tasted of the spiked punch and his hands were trembling and careful as they rested on your waist. You grabbed a fistful of his robes, pulling him close to you with urgency.

He pulled away, lips red and swollen, with his eyes still closed.

"I need you to do me a favor," you said, mouth hovering above his.

"Yeah?"

"Kiss me," you whispered, just loud enough for Fred to hear.

He listened, and held onto you with less trembling and more confidence as you kissed for the second time.

#fred weasley #fred weasley fanfiction #fred weasley fanfic #fred weasley fic #fred weasley imagine #fred weasly x reader #fred weasley x you #fred weasley x y/n #fred #weasley #george weasley #professor remus lupin #fred weasley fluff #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter #hogwarts #yule ball #romeo and juliet #Shakespeare inspired fic

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