#i may have failed high school english but i did not learn nothing!

[thatone-highlighter]

I love being pretentious about media actually. Not in a „oh you like nirvana? Name 5 of their songs“ type way but as in the curtains are blue to signify the character‘s sadness way

[bone-marreaux]

As a recently graduated teacher (and I have ranted about this many a time) when I was in teaching college I was told very early on that there is a massive issue with “educational neglect” on behalf of parents and a massive issue of teachers being so underpaid and overworked that not only do they not have the time or resources to teach all of these things—they do not have the energy. Teachers’ jobs don’t stop when the school bell rings. We often have mountains of work to finish when we get home. Our entire evenings and weekends are spent lesson planning and grading. For a salary that is quite literally a joke given their credentials and importance in society.

I witnessed this firsthand multiple times in my practicum work. I was told by the elementary practicum teacher that most parents don’t even teach their kids how to tie their shoes anymore. They don’t teach them how to properly hold scissors, how to properly socialize with their peers. Teachers have to do all of the heavy lifting but then get blamed when their students fall behind. As if a teacher can adequately teach every single student in multiple 30+ student classrooms how to do basic life skills they should be learning at home. Kids are struggling to know how to read at ages that are not concurrent to normal reading development skills because their parents never taught them the alphabet.

Tech illiteracy is just one of the many many many ways that not only the education system is failing students but also parents. It is also on the parent’s shoulders to teach their kids online safety, how to be safe on social media, and how to use things like scanners. Parents can also google these things if they don’t know how to do them, and much of Gen Z and Gen Alpha’s parents are at an age that they *should* know these basic tasks and if they don’t then they *should* know how to google something. Much of these parents are younger Gen X and Millenials. They may not have grown up with the tech like it is now, but they’ve been there as it’s evolved and unless they live under a rock they should know how to send an email properly or how to use a laptop and printer.

In teaching college it was massively stressed that we ***must*** teach students technological literacy because in this day in age EVERYTHING is done via tech. You don’t fill out job applications at the workplace with a pen and paper anymore, you apply for jobs online with a résumé. They need to know how to format résumés. They need to know how to format an email properly and not send the whole thing in the subject line. I sat in on an English class of 9th graders (14-15 year olds) and the teacher was having to teach them how to properly format an email and all the students had to do was have a subject line, a short message, and a sign off with their name and student ID. She walked them through step by step how to do it. A toddler could have followed her instructions because she was going at such a slow pace and explaining things so thoroughly. Less than 50% of the students did it correctly even still. It was painful to watch.

These issues are further exacerbated (at least in American schooling) by the school’s desperate need for funding, so even if students are doing no work or bare minimum work, schools are asking teachers to fudge student’s grades so that their graduation rates stay high. They teach only to the standardized tests so that their funding stays high enough to be able to properly pay for what the school needs. Which means teachers have to give students As on work that would normally be Ds, or give them credit just for putting a name on a page and nothing else. When I was in student teaching, I was told that even if a student did not turn anything in, if they were in class I would have to give them credit for their projects, even if they had not even touched their paper. This was what kind of disenchanted me from the realm of teaching, because students now are not actually learning anything and are instead being thrown through the education system as fast as possible just to get them out of there, leaving with absolutely zero skills and understanding about anything whatsoever. It’s disheartening to see, and only getting worse.

And teachers often get blamed for a lot of this, even though these are direct orders from not only admins but districts. Parents get angry their kids learn nothing but don’t stop to realize that maybe they should read books to their kindergarten aged child instead of assuming they’ll learn everything at school. To give parents some credit, I understand not everyone has the means or the time due to working multiple jobs just to make rent in this awful economy we have. However, you *must* make time. You chose to have a kid, which means no matter how tired you are you must make time or your child will be a college student at a seventh grade reading level not even knowing how to format a word document properly.

seriously, though. i work in higher education, and part of my job is students sending me transcripts. you'd think the ones who have the least idea how to actually do that would be the older ones, and while sure, they definitely struggle with it, i see it most with the younger students. the teens to early 20s crowd.

very, astonishingly often, they don't know how to work with .pdf documents. i get garbage phone screenshots, sometimes inserted into an excel or word file for who knows what reason, but most often it's just a raw .jpg or other image file.

they definitely either don't know how to use a scanner, don't have access to one, or don't even know where they might go for that (staples and other office supply stores sometimes still have these services, but public libraries always have your back, kids.) so when they have a paper transcript and need to send me a copy electronically, it's just terrible photos at bad angles full of thumbs and text-obscuring shadows.

mind bogglingly frequently, i get cell phone photos of computer screens. they don't know how to take a screenshot on a computer. they don't know the function of the Print Screen button on the keyboard. they don't know how to right click a web page, hit "print", and choose "save as PDF" to produce a full and unbroken capture of the entirety of a webpage.

sometimes they'll just copy the text of a transcript and paste it right into the message of an email. that's if they figure out the difference between the body text portion of the email and the subject line, because quite frankly they often don't.

these are people who in most cases have done at least some college work already, but they have absolutely no clue how to utilize the attachment function in an email, and for some reason they don't consider they could google very quickly for instructions or even videos.

i am not taking a shit on gen z/gen alpha here, i'm really not.

what i am is aghast that they've been so massively failed on so many levels. the education system assumed they were "native" to technology and needed to be taught nothing. their parents assumed the same, or assumed the schools would teach them, or don't know how themselves and are too intimidated to figure it out and teach their kids these skills at home.

they spend hours a day on instagram and tiktok and youtube and etc, so they surely know (this is ridiculous to assume!!!) how to draft a formal email and format the text and what part goes where and what all those damn little symbols means, right? SURELY they're already familiar with every file type under the sun and know how to make use of whatever's salient in a pinch, right???

THEY MUST CERTAINLY know, innately, as one knows how to inhale, how to type in business formatting and formal communication style, how to present themselves in a way that gets them taken seriously by formal institutions, how to appear and be competent in basic/standard digital skills. SURELY. Of course. RIGHT!!!!

it's MADDENING, it's insane, and it's frustrating from the receiving end, but even more frustrating knowing they're stumbling blind out there in the digital spaces of grown-up matters, being dismissed, being considered less intelligent, being talked down to, because every adult and system responsible for them just

ASSUMED they should "just know" or "just figure out" these important things no one ever bothered to teach them, or half the time even introduce the concepts of before asking them to do it, on the spot, with high educational or professional stakes.

kids shouldn't have to supplement their own education like this and get sneered and scoffed at if they don't.

[lokilysolbitch]

SYMBOLISM ART

hey bbygworls for anyone who is like me and did not fucking understand english class and symbolism i have a simple explanation

okay. light bulb. think what are light bulbs associated with. light. it helps you see. inspiration. ideas ("lightbulb going off above your head").

if you are writing or reading or drawing a guy who had an idea. maybe the guy will be under a light bulb. in writing, the author may say he is under a lightbulb. you will read is and say "why did they specify that?" if youre asking that, they probably wrote that in for a reason. the reason may be symbolism. if a guy is drawn in a dark room, and he is under the only light bulb in the room, OR if hes in a well lit room but the light above his is especially bright, it might be symbolism. if he is the only guy in the drawing standing under a lightbulb in a room with lots of lights, even if that placement puts him in an awkward placement in the drawing, it might be important. maybe symbolism.

okay. new word. break. what is that associated with. its violent. it could be loud, or accidental. lets compare it to snap. snap is a clean break. its quick. its contained. break, in comparison, is explosive. messy.

so we have the light bulb, symbolising an idea. what if the light bulb breaks?

the idea didnt work. it blew up in someones face. messily. the light bulb is broken? the idea is gone. its out.

so say you want to express in art that a guy used to have an idea, but it backfired bad. instead of writing "he had an idea and it failed", you might have your character get the news that his idea is going wrong, and a light bulb breaks above his head. ooh foreshadowing. you can draw a character with a concerned or disappointed or fearful expression reading over a plan or a blueprint and a broken light bulb is hanging above his head. in a poem instead of saying "my idea is bad. oh i am sad" you can say "light bulb broken, wires smoking"

there you go. i am sorry high school teachers try to explain this to you with old old books. it is hard to learn how to do this when you are busy the whole book translating things like knaves and joint stools into modern english. of course you will be less familiar with what a spindle symbolises. you have never used one and it is also 7 am on a wednesday.

okay practice question. what could a burning blanket symbolise

blanket- comfort, familiarity, warmth, childhood, home, protection (because kids feel safer under blankets)

fire- destruction, light, warmth but much more heat then a blanket, cleansing (in the way it burns everything until there is nothing. like a clean slate). its also associated with passion, creativity, or anger by a lot of people

with all these associations this could mean a lot of things but the first thing to come to mind would probably destruction of comfort, or of your childhood, or of your feeling of safety and what is familiar.

if you wanna REALLY get into it, you could say it is warmth and comfort, but to the point it gets so hot it burns and destroys itself. like the consequences of staying too long in your comfort zone. idk

you may have had other ideas for associations, and those aren't wrong if they weren't in the list. symbolism is subjective and you had a creative interpretation. sorry they take off points for that in school.

i very hope this helps you create and consume art. it hits different once you know WHY the artist put things in places. art gets much more magical, including your own work.

as always i did not proofread this

[gloryofroses19]

Prequel to Iron Legacy

My Hero

By SAMANTHA STARK - May 2023

Thanos, who took so much from us all, asked my brother if the world would remember him. The stories of Tony Stark’s heroism are currently being told around the universe, in multiple languages by multiple races. His memory will be kept alive by people who were saved by Iron Man to those who received benefits from his philanthropy. To the world, Tony Stark became a hero once he donned the suit of iron which made him Iron Man. But to me, Tony Stark was a hero long before that.

He became my hero before I even remember, when he was just a boy. A boy who tested his parents’ and caregivers' patience by staying out late, hacking into the Pentagon on a high school dare and ditching school to work on inventions like jet-powered roller skates. A boy at fifteen who learned that he was going to be a big brother and decided he would be the man that their father never was for him. A boy who would give his infant sister a bottle in the dead at night to let Edwin Jarvis rest. A boy at seventeen who was forced to become the man to take over his father’s legacy and his two-year-old sister’s legal guardianship.

There’s a common feeling of detest among younger siblings when they’re compared to their older counterparts. It’s a sentiment I never felt because I have never been nothing but proud to be compared to my brother. Tony is often cited for saying that I was what he was most proud of (prior to the birth of his daughter). For some to think that I could be even comparable to my genius, funny, reckless, innovative older brother was astonishing to me. I think what he didn’t internalize was that I was proud of him too. And making sure he knew that is a regret I’ll have to live with for the rest of my life.

Tony and I were always looked at as if we were night and day. The genius, billionaire playboy philanthropist who sought out the limelight and his billionaire bookworm sister who hid from it. I’ve never figured out if Tony truly craved the limelight or he did it for necessity, but I’d like to believe it was both. Human nature says we crave admiration and attention so who was Tony to deny that? But what if he made a big enough splash in the media to turn the prying eyes away from the little girl who was trying to navigate the world around her and the legacy left for her.

But what is a legacy? The Oxford English Dictionary defines a legacy as “money or property that is given to you by someone when they die.” The legacy that Tony was given was the last name Stark. His whole life he was told he was destined for greatness based only on the virtue of his name. The very same Stark name that was synonymous with weapons of war thanks to my father’s selfish interests. Until Tony changed that, those weapons of war became resources for clean energy and a brighter future. Thanks to a gift from professor Ho Yinsen in a cave in Afghanistan, my brother realized that his purpose was to better the world.

The monikers of Stark and Iron Man do not provide me with destined demands, because there is no such thing as destiny. The last thing I said to my brother was that it was okay, that we were going to be okay. I’m still not okay, I don’t know if I ever will be because a part of me will forever be lost. I thought I knew who I was, but I now see that I don't know how to be anyone but Tony Stark’s little sister. It is something that I need to figure out but without the shade of his love, protection and support, I worry that I will fail. But Tony taught me that legacies must be earned by the choices we make. His legacy is one of heroism, altruism and perseverance and that seems like a pretty good place for me to start.

Samantha Stark is the younger sister to the late Anthony ‘Tony’ Stark. She is owner and CEO of Stark Industries.

A/N: Feedback is always welcomed and appreciated!

Taglist: @7minutes-tomidnight

Link to Masterlist

[phanfictioncatalogue]

Teen and Up Rated (2) Masterlist

part one

a delicate cycle (ao3) - phantasticworks

Summary: twelve years should be enough time to learn how to do laundry... right?

all of these small things (ao3) - possumdnp

Summary: It’s Dan’s first day back from his American tour, and Phil can’t believe how much he’s missed him.

and more still to come (ao3) - cityofphanchester

Summary: He wonders for half a second whether it was stupid to come here, whether he’ll have to go home tomorrow restless with worry over how much of Dan he actually knows.

“I’m starving,” Dan says, and it’s his regular familiar voice.

and the days after that (ao3) - cityofphanchester

Summary: He can hear Dan’s voice coming down the hall, laughing with someone from the crew, and it makes his breath stop in his chest.

(doomed tour usa, autumn 2022)

are you gay? - manchestereyes

Summary: The 5 times Dan denied he was gay (and the one time he didn’t.)

Beautiful Liar (ao3) - withawhimper

Summary: A devastating revelation from a cute stranger sitting in the bar where Dan is supposed to be meeting his boyfriend rocks Dan's world- but it turns out that might not be such a bad thing

Betta Late Than Never (ao3) - indistinct_echo

Summary: Dan hires Phil to therapize his betta. They get along swimmingly.

Burned Into My Soul (ao3) - Nefertiti1052 (Succubusphan)

Summary: "Sometimes you have to run into this head first," Dan always said. Ironically, that's exactly what he did.

By the way, I adore you. (ao3) - lxzyfangirl

Summary: Dan is very sick, and the future is not looking too bright for him, thankfully, he has Phil, his best friend, to accompany him through it all. But is Dan satisfied with being just friends?

Collector (ao3) - philsmeatylegss

Summary: Phil’s journey of being gay except it’s completely made up by me

dancing on the blades (you set my heart on fire) (ao3) - kishere

Summary: Dan Howell is an ice skater in England, a non power player in the world of competitive ice skating. Phil Lester is the greatest ice skater to come out of England in the past decade, part of a family legacy. When Dan is offered a spot at Phil's family gym, he learns what he was missing the most to be the best ice skater he could be.

Or: the yuri on ice inspired au

Decisions (ao3) - philsmeatylegss

Summary: Otherwise known as “I know we don’t know each other but my awful ex is here and I’m scared, please just pretend I’m your boyfriend.” And then more stuff happens that’s sweet

easy for you to say (ao3) - phantasticworks

Summary: Phil tries to convince Dan to throw away the grey shirt. Dan can’t do it.

Falling Flat - the-squirrel-queen

Summary: Dan is a pianist. A recent graduate from Juliard, he finds himself at a job playing music for school children. Phil is a music teacher at said school. They have a rather interesting relationship in class. A rather flirtatious relationship. The children see the interactions between the two and begin to wonder if they are in a relationship. Soon, a work relationship blooms into a romantic one through a love of music and each other.

Imaginary Friends - adorkablephil

Summary: Nothing’s AU ... except that Dan and Phil have been appearing in each other’s dreams since childhood without realizing it because they’re soulmates. Everything on the outside looks like the reality we’re used to irl.

Investigations (ao3) - philsmeatylegss

Summary: Obliviousness runs in the family

long-distance lads (ao3) - possumdnp

Summary: Dan worries that he’s going to miss Phil while on tour.

Keep My Head Above Water - paradisobound

Summary: Dan is the captain of his high school swim team and the sport means more than anything to him. He hopes to be recruited into college so he can continue to swim, however, his plan changes when he fails English. Being tutored by Phil, Dan soon sees that even though he still wants more than anything to continue to swim, he may also want something else too.

Kick Me While I'm Down (ao3) - jerseker

Summary: Dan and Phil meet in an adult kickball league. Phil is just there to make friends. Dan is - not.

Magi (ao3) - yikesola

Summary: Dan doesn’t know how he hadn't thought about a gift for Phil yet. Phil is still feeling a little weird about how much he spent on Dan’s gift.

A fic about coincidence and sacrifice.

(not a) boyfriend hoodie (ao3) - dizzy

Summary: Phil really likes cuddling up in Dan's new hoodie.

Which would be fine, if it were actually Dan's hoodie.

often and frequently (ao3) - dickiegreenleaf

Summary: It's ironic, really. Phil's just spent all this money on a new home when the only place he wants to spend his time is at his hot neighbour's place.

On The Road (ao3) - yikesola

Summary: Phil still isn’t quite used to it all being okay. He isn’t used to Dan not fearfully dissecting a tweet reply that called them queer icons. He isn’t used to things like what the two teenagers they bumped into at the airport said when they stuttered out, “I met my girlfriend because of you,” feeling only good. No twinge of bittersweet.

A fic about changes and landscape.

Project Poliwag (ao3) - natigail

Summary: Phil hadn't intended for his garden to become a haven for rescued Pokémon, but it had happened accidentally. This particular rescue wasn't that different, even though he had never rescued 117 Pokémon at once before. But he couldn't leave the Pokémon eggs to be destroyed, and he was willing to raise a whole army of Poliwag on his own if he must.

What Phil hadn't counted on was a stranger with a lost look in his eye turning up on his doorstep and offering to help with the project.

Send My Love (To Your New Lover) (ao3) - phantasticworks

Summary: Dan has some jealousy issues to deal with when he finds out Phil has had a run-in with someone from his past.

security! (ao3) - natigail

Summary: Dan comes home to Phil after tour rehearsals. They cook, kiss and banter. And Dan reflects on the word "security".

since i wrote you last (ao3) - dizzy

Summary: Dan and his letters to Santa over the years.

The city is so loud (but you drown out all the noise) (ao3) - natigail

Summary: Phil's pack might have kicked him out for mating with a human, but his love for Dan was much stronger than anything he'd ever experienced before. It wasn't easy to adjust to living with Dan in his - now their - small flat in London, but Phil would do it again in a heartbeat. With Dan by his side, Phil was sure he could get used to all the weird things humans did.

The Flowers Are For You - paradisobound

Summary: It’s Dan and Phil’s one month “anniversary” and Phil wants to get Dan flowers. The only catch is he has no idea what flowers to get Dan, or even if Dan will like them.

The River (ao3) - Portia331

Summary: Dan arrived in Melbourne two weeks ago with just one suitcase crammed with running gear, psychology textbooks, and a mere fraction of his wardrobe especially curated to fit both his aesthetic and the Melbourne weather.

He's about to start in the role of a lifetime on a 12 month contract, but he's barely ready for the Australian summer heat, let alone what the world is about to throw at him.

The X-Philes (ao3) - UnorthodoxSavvy

Summary: Phil is a psychic. Dan is a detective. When Phil is visited by the ghost of his brother, he knows something isn't right. Can he and Dan solve the case, or will they become the next victims?

To Dwell on Dreams (ao3) - carltzmann

Summary: "Taking in the whole image, though, it hardly hurt. Watching this perfect version of himself smile and wave and talk to his friends, bathing in success and appreciation, Dan suddenly started to believe that maybe all that was possible, even with the confirmation of a terrifying secret."

Dan and Phil meet at the Mirror of Erised.

Together Again (ao3) - LivingVicarioslyThroughDaydreams

Summary: This is Dan’s moment, and Phil is more than happy to let him have this time. So when Dan calls every night, gushing with energy and excitement, Phil doesn’t tell him how he wants to be with him, how he misses him so much. He only smiles and laughs along and tells Dan how proud of him he is.

But now Dan is coming home, back to him. He almost feels selfish with how excited he is. Today though, he’ll allow it. Dan has had his time to find himself, but today: today will be just for them. Together again.

(Phil's perspective on missing Dan and being reunited with him)

Weight on my Shoulders (ao3) - ByTheFire

Summary: When Phil starts getting some unexpected gifts from his dad he starts to worry if he knows something he is not ready to share. Thankfully Dan is there to make it all a bit less scary. All Phil can hope is his dad doesn't want to change who he truly is.

when we were younger. (ao3) - dylaesthetics

Summary: dan and phil go on holiday to wales (+ some freja feels)

___

OR dan is seriously in need of a breather after the difficult year he's had, and finds home in no one other than phil

winter winds (ao3) - dizzy

Summary: coffee shop au

Work That Rock (ao3) - adorkablephil

Summary: Phil has more confidence now, but sometimes he still feels awkward

[vergess]

Oh YOU'RE the one who put all these white monolinguals in my inbox.

So, first of all, I am in fact the disabled ESL speaker you people keep using as your hypothetical. I've got the whole package baby: non fluent parents, didn't start English until school, had a physical speech disability, had several learning disabilities, the whole nine yards. Not that any of that was relevant to the post.

So you can, politely, take your conscientiousness reminder about my existence, and shove it firmly into a garage. I'm good. I'm capable of remembering I exist, thanks.

Secondly, if you were paying attention to this discussion about how adults under 30 have been FAILED BY. THE. EDUCATIONAL. SYSTEM. You might then be able to extrapolate that this system is failing other English language learners too!

But okay, let's say your concern is genuine, which is VERY hard to believe after the day you, personally have put me through with your white knighting about fluency:

The same solutions work for disfluencies from lack of familiarity with the spoken language too! Wow!

It's almost like ALL OF THE SOLUTIONS PRESENTED HEREIN WOULD LIKEWISE SOLVE THE PROBLEMS YOU RAISED

ALMOST AS THOUGH

bear with me here

ALMOST AS THOUGH A DISABLED IMMIGRANT WROTE THE FUCKING POST WITH FIRST HAND FUCKING EXPERIENCE TO BACK IT'S FUCKING RESEARCH

As for the fucking questions, not that I feel inclined to give you a goddamn answer at this point:

Do these US literacy statistics account for ability to read and write in any language, or just American English?

No. The statistics are based on school child and adult testing. ESL students are usually part of the main student body among children, and in separate schools entirely among adults, thus they are not readily identifiable in the data.

the states with the lowest literacy appeared to be, areas with high concentrations of immigrants from non-English-speaking countries

No state in the US is actually at a reasonable literacy level, so I'm not sure why some being worse is of note to you, but the correlations as they exist are stronger with population density than other factors, as is often the case with any map based visual.

would literacy not be improved by accommodating that section of the population instead of calling them blanket illiterate?

Yeah, no shit it would. That's why all the fucking solutions presented are equally useable for learning English as a second language.

Or do you mean we should have a more multilingual society in the US, because obviously I fucking agree, but that's not really relevant to a post about how CHILDHOOD EDUCATION HAS FAILED AN ENTIRE GENERATION OF PEOPLE.

So 55% of that actually represents >10% of all US adults. Not that this isn't still a lot, but it's far less eye-catching than "55%."

Did ya… look at the source you claim you are correcting, mate?

Did you?

Did you look at the source data that can be filtered to show all ages, which puts national literacy at 46% across age groups, which you may recognize as 54% illiteracy?

54% or all US adults across all age groups, worse for the youngest and eldest, with the best literacy being middle aged people?

Or did you just see the 55% for my age group, and go haring off without checking anything you said?

May I ask why that age range is the one you chose to focus on, op?

I AM THAT AGE.

I know you want this to be a case of "boomer yelling at kids for nothing" but it's my LITERAL OWN LIFE as backed by the FINEST STATISTICAL DATA ON THE SUBJECT ON ALL OF THE PLANET EARTH.

This data extends back decades. It is collected for the UN.

Do you genuinely believe your back of the napkin math based on literally not even looking at the source data makes you a better statistician than everyone who studies this field professionally and has for decades?

You literally just made up a bunch of crap, and you want me to believe you're asking any of these questions in good faith?

Quick question, genuine question:

Why on earth does "more than half of US adults under 30 cannot read above an elementary school level" not strike horror into the heart of everyone who hears it?

Are the implications of it unclear????

I'm serious, people keep reacting with a sort of vague dismissal when I point this out, and I want to know why!

If adults in the US cannot read, then the only information they have access to is TV and video, the spaces with the most egregious and horrific misinformation!

If they cannot read, they cannot escape that misinformation.

This obscene lack of literacy should strike fear into every heart! US TV is notoriously horrific propaganda!

Is that???? Not??? Obvious???????

I know this sounds sarcastic, I know it does, but I'm completely serious here. I do not understand where the disconnect is.

[stardew-mermaid]

im WEAK for my faves as parents and i know lots of y'all are too so here are

bachelors as dads vibes

(bachelorettes as moms will come soon too ❤️ under cut cause it got very long lol)

sebastian

a chill dad. when u were very little he'd let u sit in his lap while he codes and consequently u find heavy metal soothing cause he would be playing it while he works and u would always fall asleep against him

if he wasn't using his second computer u could play around on it while he works. 'existing in each other's company while u both do stuff' time becomes a regular thing even as u get older, u would do ur homework next to him at his desk and he'd help if u were confused

the first time u were deemed old enough to go for a ride on his motorcycle u were SO fucking hyped even if u had to be absolutely decked out in protective gear. sometimes while u were in high school he'd help you flex by picking you up/dropping you off on the bike

would bundle u up in his hoodies as a toddler and there's a few pics of u absolutely SWIMMING in them with the hood all the way over ur face pretending to be the grim reaper. he'd never been so proud

elliott

an eloquent dad, but still has goofy dadlike tendencies. he may be the picture of a dark academia dilf with his slacks and button ups sipping coffee in the morning over a manuscript, but he'll still make the jokes. calls u things like little one and taught u to play piano

he got u ur own little bookshelf for all ur baby books and he'd read to you every single night without fail. he'd make up stories too and u would help and make a collab tho it often got u more excited than relaxed for bed but it was worth it!!! when u were grown up u helped him compile the short stories u made up together and published it. he'd also share with u poems he wrote for you and about you over the years, lots of them to do with the wonder of watching a whole tiny person grow into a big person

would always take u on nature walks and play at the beach!!! u would find shells and rocks to give to him and he'd always look like u just handed him pure gold

u made a pact that u would sit still for him while he did ur hair if u could braid his hair in turn. u both looked very stylish

sam

cool dad!!! fun dad!!!! watches anime with u when u get into it and is forever ur player 2. if u had a skateboard or a scooter he'd always show u up by pulling off sick tricks and it became a friendly rivalry. taught u to stick it to the man at a very early age. teaches u to play guitar and took u to ur first rock concert when u were like 8

there are baby photos of u wearing sunglasses that cover half ur face and when asked about it he'd say 'u were just a rly cool baby!!!!' in some of them he's wearing matching sunglasses and carrying u in one of those front baby pouches. he'd also always sing to you as a baby and still does it idly sometimes and has written songs for u!!!!

ur #1 hypeman. praises u for everything and always makes sure u know how cool u are just for existing. he loses his mind at ur grade school talent show and at ur graduation he's there holding up his phone and crying like FUCK IT UP KENNETH!!!!! 😭😭😭❤️❤️❤️

tho alongside all the fun he teaches u to be very responsible and polite and above all extremely kind!!!!

shane

has the most potent typical dad energy. the socks with sandals, the jokes, the ac/dc, the funny hobby projects, the rivalry with other pta parents, all of it. calls u squirt and kiddo and the kind to ruffle ur hair. always gives u piggy back rides even as u get older, says it helps him stay in shape. when u were little you'd always bap ur baby hands against his stubble cause heehee funny scratchy face

u loved when he was in charge of dinner growing up cause it was often takeout pizza/burgers. 'hey im making a pot of kraft dinner should i double it for u' kind of guy, adds cut up hot dogs and after ur other parent voices a need for nutrition adds frozen veggies too. VERY good at cooking all kinds of eggs tho, would always feed u eggs from his own chickens and would accept nothing less!!!

teaches u a lot about chickens and some of ur fave memories with him are in the coop or chillin in a field in spring with him and the new chicks. some other faves include the regular tea parties with him and cousin jas, and even as u both get older u all sit down and have tea together sometimes and occasionally break out one of the old barbie movies for funsies

u learned how to say fuck from him when u were 3 and he died laughing. if called and told that u got into a fight at school would reply with 'did they win'

harvey

sweet, dorky doctor dad. would get SUPER worried whenever u got so much as a cold, made u stay home and rest and HYDRATE. taught u proper medical standard handwashing from when u first learned how to turn on the tap, also taught u a lot of basic first aid. when u were fussy he would read u his old textbooks from med school and it'd get you to sleep in minutes

refuses to let u leave the house without eating something first and would often get up early to make u a big breakfast before school (it's the most important meal of the day!!!!). yes it's ok if ur late ur english teacher can wait until you've had ur veggies. when u were a baby his standard of keeping u fed was 'if i had to change less than five diapers a day it wasn't enough'. encourages taking a snack and water everywhere

as u got older u realized how hardworking he is so u make sure he knows how much u love and appreciate him, goes all out for his bday and father's day like how he goes all out for u every day and it makes him cry. he cries at ur first birthday and ur graduation too, cried when u got him a #1 DAD mug specifically for his morning coffee, he just cries a lot and it's very endearing, dad taught u it's okay to be emotional. u also gift him funky socks to wear at work and he goes bananas for them

he taught u how to assemble model planes and u would sit with him while he tuned his old radio, u liked the bwee bwee sounds. he would play jazz and swing and dance with u standing on his feet. when u were little u liked to play with his moustache and occasionally he would fall asleep while watching u but the most u ever did was add a goatee to the stache with washable marker which he thought was pretty funny

alex

strong dad!!! jock dad!!!!! would flex and let u hang off his bicep, play wrestle (u would always win), sit u on his shoulders and run around making airplane noises, play sportsball in the yard and would come up with fun challenges for u if u got bored of catch. pretty much the master of keeping ur baby self entertained and was always there to tuck u in for a nap when u got tired out

makes an extra protein shake for u every morning and loads of scrambled eggs, will also sneak u a cookie tho

he's always super encouraging and positive and enthusiastic about everything u do which u pick up fast. u go to his games and even if sports turns out not to be ur thing the fact that ur there rooting for him makes him put in 1000% effort, calls u his good luck charm!!!! he will also throw u over his shoulders and use u for weightlifting while u shout encouragement directly into his ear. this continues until ur grown up (and sometimes even then so he can flex even as an 'old man')

gets really really worried about you whenever ur sick or get hurt and will lose sleep over it but stays upbeat for ur sake. he will cuddle u tho. sometimes you'll ask for stories about ur grandma and he'll tell u and it's so nice to him to talk about his mother and smile instead of being sad, you help him heal because it's so wonderful to think of her as a grandmother and how proud she'd be. he plays her music box for u to help u sleep when ur little and it still makes u feel sleepy and safe when ur older

[aprilsrant]

Cariad | Young!Remus Lupin x Slytherin!Fem!Reader.

SUMMARY: (Y/N) absolutely hates when professors make their students work in pairs, but the outcome of this particular project may not be so bad.

WORD COUNT: 2,971, more or less.

REQUEST: can i request another half-blood slytherin reader x remus where she tries to learn welsh for him and i hope you can include smth with the lovespoon! 

This was requested by @cantstopmebitch Thank you so much for requesting something, I hope you enjoy it!

WARNINGS: a kiss? And nothing else I think.

A/N: Please remember English is not my first language, so if there are any mistakes, let me know! In this fic, I’ve used some Welsh words, which I didn’t know a single thing about so I did some research but it may be wrong, so sorry if these are not correct! 

Masterlist.

You can always reblog to help me or request something you’ll like. 

TRANSLATIONS: the title, cariad, means “love, affection, lover, darling”; the phrase fy annwyl un means “my dear one”; and the last one, fy nghariad aur  means “my golden darling”.

Advanced Arithmancy Studies, or simply Arithmancy, was not the most interesting subject Hogwarts offered as an elective course for sixth and seventh years, hence why there weren’t many people taking it, but (Y/N) seemed to be a natural — according to the professor’s opinion — and she loved being good at things without trying too much or else she would lose any interest immediately.  

Sitting down on one of the desks at the back of the classroom, she left her brown leather satchel on the cobblestone floor. (Y/N) watched as the students took their usual seats and started to chat with their partner, but all conversations were shut down by the loud voice of the professor, an old and strict woman who didn’t seem to have control of her voice’s volume as she was always screaming and someone who didn’t have any consideration with those who forgot to do her assignments. 

The minute the woman’s body was an inch inside the classroom, she began to give directions about a project expected for next week and how they would have to work in pairs, (Y/N)’s eyes rolling to the back of her head upon hearing the news. She absolutely detested working with other people for two reasons: the first one being that, if they happen to be from a different House, they would judge her for being a Slytherin; and the second, because she was always the one ending up doing it all on her own, but that was mostly her fault. She wanted to be in control all the time if it was something related to school. 

Once again, (Y/N) was observing how some of her classmates changed desks so they could work with whoever they wanted. No one took the empty seat beside her. She never minded being alone in this class (none of her close friends capable of dealing with the intensity of it or not being too interested in numbers), she was not going to start now. It was better anyways, not having a partner meant less headaches. 

But, apparently, the odds were not in her favor.

A diveleshed looking Remus Lupin crossed the entrance door with his arms full of books, parchments and quills; uniform poorly accommodated and a sad dog look on his eyes, definitely trying to avoid the professor’s rage for being late. His lips curved into a hesitant smile, that to (Y/N)’s opinion came out more as a grimace, and when she thought they all were about to hear a pathetic and improvised excuse from Perfect Remus, the old witch shook her hand into a dismissive gesture and signalised the wooden chair next to the Slytherin girl while she informed him about the task. 

Now that Lupin was beside her, shoulders almost touching, she took a closer look at him. (Y/N) had the impression he was sick because of the dark circles below his dull brown eyes, his skin a lot more paler than usual, and the small noise that left his mouth once he sat down, like his chest hurted. She had also noticed scratches and scars on his neck and cheeks, but kept quiet about them too. It wasn’t her place to ask. 

The first ten minutes passed slowly, neither of them uttering a word, and listening to the expectations the professor had for the project. Well, more like (Y/N) was the one actually listening, because Remus was busy running through his things while leaving them scattered all around their shared desk and muttering curses under his breath. She watched him with a weirded out expression on her face, eyes narrowing and eyebrows furrowing with her mouth pressed on a thin line, while he read the first lines of a parchment and then, obviously not being what he was looking for, leaving it on her side. 

“You forgot the essay, didn’t you?,” she leaned closer to him and whispered in the boy’s ear. He turned around to look at her, but it wasn’t necessary for him to confirm it, (Y/N) already knew she was right. 

Picking her satchel from the floor, she took her own assignment, grabbed one piece of empty parchment and, making sure the professor wasn’t looking in their direction, she muttered a spell under her breath. Instantly, the black paragraphs on her paper copied and travelled to the empty one. With another flick of her wand, some of the words transformed, other changed places and a few of them even disappeared. Grabbing one of Lupin’s parchment that had his calligraphy, and corroborating once more the old witch had her back turned to them, (Y/N) copied his writing style to transfer it to the parchment she had just enchanted. With a proud smile on her face, she handed it to him. 

Lupin’s face was now a little brighter, of course he still had those horrendous bags, but it was an improvement. His eyes wide and shining with interest, his face less tired and his mouth opened in surprise. 

“How did you do that?”

“One of my cousins taught me. Him and his friends had been perfectioning this spell for a long time now,” she mumbled, trying not to catch the other’s attention, while she shrugged her shoulders. 

“That was amazing,” an astonish sound accompanying his words, “thank you, by the way, for helping me.”

“Oh no, I don’t accept thank you’s.” (Y/N) sat straighter on her chair, beaming at him while she crossed one of her legs on top of the other. Before he had the chance to ask what she meant, she spoke again. ”I did you a favor, now you owe me one.”

And after that particular conversation, Remus’s and (Y/N)’s destinies were sealed in an unbreakable and everlasting bond.

That following week was spent in the safety of the Room of Requirement, the place where none of their friends would bother them if they happened to see them together, a Gryffindor and a Slytherin, working together. (Y/N) believed it was stupid at first, not going to the library because someone may or may not catch them in such a forbiden act, but it was all forgotten when the idea that she could become the next target for one of their pranks popped in her head. She had seen what they’ve done to other housemates and she never wanted to be in the receiving end of one. 

The way the Room looked was another major point in why they continued to meet there. (Y/N) had never visited but she had heard about it and how it changed according to your needs. Right now, the chamber resembled a greenhouse, more beautiful than the ones where they had Herbology with Professor Sprout. All kinds of plants covered the walls (not one was the same as the next), coloured carpets underneath old white marble statues and high columns of the same material, reminding her of all the times she’d read a book about Ancient Greece and it’s Gods. In the middle of the Room were two dark red divans, contrasting against the green on the rest of the place, surrounded by piles of books — (Y/N) had the feeling they were all about Arithmancy and Numerology — and, in the centre, a small coffee table made of wood. 

Not even after hours of working in the assignment they were able to finish it in that afternoon. Both of them were perfectionists, ending up in some small arguments about how they should approach certain topics but had also pushed them in coming up with better and more interesting ideas. No one could deny the pair worked marvelously, complementing each other.

To (Y/N)’s astonishment, Remus Lupin didn’t fit the ideal her mind had set a long time ago for Gryffindors. All the ones she’d encountered were boisterous, incredibly annoying, short-tempered and just general prats. The boy with whom she had spent a whole afternoon was utterly the opposite and (Y/N) would’ve discovered that earlier if she’d hadn’t been so prejudiced.  

The day the assignment was due to, arrived quickly than expected and with it came a sudden and small pang of sadness that startled her. 

When she sat down beside Remus, he had made sure of arriving extra early to compensate the professor for the week before, the boy perceived something was off — his superpower according to his three best friends, he was always capable of reading a person perfectly, even if they hadn’t known each other for too long — because of how she was acting, trying too hard to show an unbothered facade but not hard enough for him to not notice.

The truth was (Y/N) didn’t want this class to start since once it was over so would the partnership with Remus. She had enjoyed his calm and warm company, sometimes a little crazy, in the Room Requirement while they worked on the project. And she was one hundred percent sure she would miss the moments when they both agreed on taking a break after many hours of reading and began to talk about nothing and everything, all at once. Was she supposed to forget that he always carried one chocolate inside his bag, and that he’d started to bring one more after their first afternoon studying together? Was (Y/N) expected to ignore the fact Remus wanted to become a professor because he liked the idea of being there for young people in case they needed someone? Was this girl meant to fail to remember about how this boy had asked his mum to teach him Welsh so they, mother and son, could have one more thing in common? 

When the professor dismissed them, not without praising (Y/N)’s and Remus’s essay first, he noticed the girl next to him hadn’t even smiled at the mention of how perfect they’d worked. Now he knew for sure something was wrong with her and Remus Lupin was not the kind of person who saw his friends feeling down and did nothing about it. 

Following her across the corridor, he tried to catch her attention but she was either not listening or down right ignoring him. Finally being able to reach her, Remus grabbed her arm softly and called her name in a whisper. She turned around, head low and eyes fixated on her jet black loafers, not looking at him. 

“Are you alright? Because if something happened, you can talk to me,” Remus asked in a faint voice, almost swallowed by the noise the other students in the hallway were making, moving his hand towards her shoulder and rubbing tenderly the fabric of her grey sweater that covered her skin, “I know we hadn’t been friends for too long, but you can come to me for anything you may need.”

(Y/N) raised her head after hearing the last part.

“We are?” An incredulous look appearing on her face. “We are friends?”

“Of course we are, (Y/N),” Remus announced while letting out a snicker, as if the thought of the two of them not being friends sounded ridiculous in his mind, “I wouldn’t have shared my chocolate with you if we weren’t. And as a half blood… you are one of the few people who actually understands my movie or book references from the muggle world.”

Her mood better now that she knew Remus considered her a friend and for once since she initiated her education at Hogwarts, she was glad the Arithmancy professor had made them work in pairs.

|||

Weeks and months passed by, and with each one of them the friendship between Remus and (Y/N) grew stronger. There were still several things the Gryffindor was not ready to discuss, like him being a werewolf, his other friends becoming animagi to help him during the nights of a full moon; the creation of the Marauder’s Map and how much he wanted to kiss her whenever she began to ramble about a subject she was really passionate about. He kept quiet, and for several months he came up with excuses, not only for the scars and the nights on the Infirmary, but for the random loss of concentration every time she was too closed to him, cracking up a joke or cursing at the professors for thinking they couldn’t have five minutes without being buried in assignments and deadlines. 

His feelings, unknown to him, were not one sided. 

(Y/N) wasn’t one to go for the boys she liked, she was used to just admiring them from afar, never making the effort to start a conversation and she was fine with it. But Remus was a whole other story. She knew him, and his fears, and the books he would read over and over again, and how much of a good friend and amazing person he was. And all of that made it even harder for her to take that quick but impossible last step. Her friends had been trying to make her pursue him since the moment the Firewhisky in her system led her to overshare. They’d said he felt the same and for a moment she believed it, but long nights of overthinking convinced her that Remus was just being kind to her, his specialty.

She tried to push her feelings away, to calm her heart that couldn’t stop jumping whenever she saw him smiling, to control the sweat on her hands every time he whispered something funny in her ear; to put a stop to the flips her stomach suffered the moment he said her name; to even her breathing on the occasions he would utter random Welsh words — one of the reason why she started to learn the language four months after their friendship began —  to see her confused expression. 

One night after a long and stressful day in the midst of their seventh and last year at Hogwarts, while the last quarter moon shined down from above them and illuminated her features, Remus Lupin decided he would honor the reason he was supposed to be in Gryffindor.

Taking a small object from the pocket of his trousers and releasing a shaky breath, he took (Y/N)’s hand to catch her attention. She turned around, looking away momentarily from the moon and the stars, the things she admired the most, grinning softly at him with such alluring eyes.

“I don’t know how to say this and what I’m doing is barely planned, and so many things could wrong but…,” Remus started, taking a large gulp of air before talking again, “I can’t help myself with you sitting there like that.”

She didn’t respond, understanding there was something bugging him and that it was crying out for someone to just let it out.

“I like you and not as a friend, I mean, yes, I do like you as a friend but I also like you as much more than that,” he confessed briskly, shortly after closing his eyes and chewing his bottom lip, “and I did this for you.”

(Y/N) took the tiny object silently, not knowing what to say, and held it up towards the sky so the moon would cast a light upon it. 

The minute she realised what it was, she confirmed that Remus’s feelings were the same as hers. With a large smile on her face, she traced her fingers delicately across the wooden figure. It had an intricate design, with two hearts in the middle and two fine lines lacing with each other, reminding her of a simple braid. On top of the heart, were three threads forming a knot.

“It’s a lovespoon, isn’t it?,” she mumbled just to be sure this was all truly happening. Remus nodded, still not knowing if she liked him too, “It’s gorgeous, Rem.” 

Locking eyes with her, he didn’t need her to say she liked him back because he already knew the answer. (Y/N)’s eyes were brimming with a few tears, holding such intense emotions and staring at him the way his mum did whenever his dad was in front of her. 

“I like you too, fy annwyl un,” she confessed back. A laugh escaped his mouth while he shook his head.

“Since when do you know Welsh, fy nghariad aur?”

“I learned it to impress someone.”

Remus leaned his body closer towards her, putting his hand over her cheek and running his thumb gracefully across it. Both of them shift their weight at the same time to be nearer each other. 

(Y/N)’s heart shaking violently in her chest, anticipating what was going to be her first kiss. 

“Remember that favor you owe me since last year?,” she reminded him. Their warm breaths mixing, lips so close and yet so far away. Remus nodded slightly as his hand descended from her cheek to caress cautiously one of her bottom lip’s corners. His other hand travelled to the back of her head, intertwining slowly with her hair, “well, I’m asking for it now.”

He smiled while their lips brushed against one another. Taking the lead, Remus finally pressed their mouths together. And it was everything and so much more than she had ever imagined. Eyes closed but still capable of seeing a mixture of red bright fireworks and shining stars.

One of her hands, the one clutching the lovespoon tightly, stayed put on his arm, while the other moved towards his neck, not knowing where else to leave it. Instantly, Remus dropped his hand from her cheeks to her waist, pulling her closer and almost sitting her on top of his lap. He moved her head slightly backwards, making (Y/N) to open his lips more and allowing him to explore her mouth with his tongue. 

None of them cared about what the rest of the school would think when they entered the Great Hall, hand in hand, a dark brown lovespoon decorating (Y/N)’s satchel.

Under the moonlight, no one else had felt more alive than them.

[yurimother]

LGBTQ Manga Review - Fragtime (Complete Series)

I recall reading the first few chapters of Fragtime on Manga Cross and not being very impressed. I did not care for it much, as, other than the time stopping element, it was mostly generic and had a few too many unsavory elements. I was content to let it rest and be forgotten along with a hundred other girl-meets-girl school Yuri romances until Tear Studio and the people behind the excellent Kase-san and Morning Glories OVA announced an anime adaptation of the work, a full five years after it ended. Inevitably an English adaptation of Sato’s original manga was announced, and so here I am, somewhat reluctantly reading and reviewing the two-volume series. It may sound like I am pessimistic or already had my mind made up, but that is not true. I went into Fragtime with as open a mind as possible, and I am happy to say that I did find several favorable aspects that appealed to me. Sadly, the manga mostly lived up to my poor initial impressions from all those years ago.

Fragtime follows timid high school student Moritani Misuzu, who can stop time for three minutes a day. While using her power, she attempts to look up the skirt of one of her classmates, Haruka Murakami. To her horror, Moritani discovered that Haruka is the one person immune to her ability. The two form an unlikely friendship and spend those few minutes when all others freeze together. As Moritani’s feelings for Haruka grow, her powers begin to fade, throwing their time together in jeopardy.

At first, this story appears to have some promise, along with some obvious issues. The supernatural aspect of Moritani’s powers and its connection to her emotions and relationship with Haruka provide excellent possibilities and avenues to explore the series’ romance and characters. Sadly, Sato delivers an unwieldy story with unlikeable and inconsistent subjects, a poorly paced narrative, and far too many sleazy moments to excuse. This last point is the most prominent of all and will be a turn off for many readers, myself very much included.

Moritani begins the story by “upskirting” one of her classmates. It is later revealed that she reveled in exploring the time-frozen school to pry into people’s most intimate moments, many of which frankly do not happen in schools nearly as much as the story would like to believe. Following this event are multiple scenes with characters flashing each other their panties, or else stripping to whatever the opposite of readers’ delight is. These moments are not sexy, and while a few of them appear to have been attempts at comedy, they will elicit few laughs. These factors create an overwhelming blanket of immature perversion that stifles any enjoyment in the audience and characters.

Another egregious element is a plotline where Haruka is continually sexually abused by her teacher, something used by her to manipulate Moritani, then joked about, and never resolved despite being referenced a good half-dozen times throughout the manga. More than anything, this speaks to Fragtime’s inability to treat its characters with any respect or focus on a plot arc and complete it satisfactorily. For indeed, even if one undergoes the arduous task of shrugging off the uncomfortable fanservice, there is not much noteworthy content left underneath.

Fragtime’s highschool Yuri romance plot is pretty unextraordinary. Even though it did attempt to include a few interesting plot points, like when Haruka and Moritani begin dating partway through the series, it is not awful, but too often, these plots are picked up and then never resolved properly, such as Moritani struggle to avoid the ping-pong club, and her discomfort after finding out about Haruka’s boyfriend. Yet, there were some positives along the way, sweet moments between characters or satisfying actions taken by them. It is just hard to find one uninterrupted by an unwelcome twist or panty flash. The one unconditional plus I will give is that I really liked the ending. There is a fantastic scene of role-reversal where the usually quiet Moritani confesses all the mischief to her and Haruka committed to the class and reveals the truth of their relationship and her feelings for Haruka. Afterward, a stunned Haruka is forced into a crisis of character and her true self is seemingly revealed. It is appropriately dramatic and delivers a fulfilling ending for the characters. Sadly, these revelations and character arcs are not supported by the rest of the story.

A manga like Fragtime lives or dies by its characters. Readers will sympathize with likable characters met with appropriate challenges and growth, or else they will laugh with endearing figures who try their best despite their flaws. Sadly, Fragtime’s Haruka is neither. Haruka is instantly dislikable, manipulating Moritani upon their first meeting, and does little to improve. She often jumps between ignoring Moritani and controlling her, demanding that she only use her powers at her command. These traits are never addressed, and the whole time readers are expected to accept that she is an unreachable beauty, and we should love her alongside Moritani. She is hopelessly inconsistent, apparently changing personalities and acquiring new traits at the drop of a hat so that Sato can shoehorn a new element of drama into the convoluted romance. The ultimate motivation behind her character, how she tries to please everyone and do what they want her to, is contrary to half her actions, and everything we have learned about her up to that point, making the reveal in the penultimate chapter, which is well-executed, feel forced.

Even through all the misery, convolution, and smut, there were, thankfully, some great moments sprinkled throughout Fragtime, mostly from Moritani. I loved seeing Moritani in the moments when she struggled with jealousy and accidentally stopped time, or else was uncertain about how Haruka would react when she confessed something to her. It was really human and relatable, and if only she were not going around looking up girls’ skirts, she would have been an excellent character. It also helps that her journey is also much more believable than Haruka’s, as Sato mostly keeps her story and development moving at a steady pace.

Moritani is much more consistent than Haruka. She starts the series as a timid and quiet girl, using her ability to run from confrontation or frankly, any form of human interaction. Once she meets Haruka and the solace of those frozen minutes is taken from her, she is understandably confused and traumatized. She even has a few moments of growth through the series, taking more confidence in herself as she plants a pair of panties (yup this again) on Haruka’s cheating boyfriend’s head. It is almost enough to sell her eventual ending and deliver a complete character.

Finally, we come to the art, which is good though not extraordinary. Characters have distinct designs and are consistent. Backgrounds and details are well managed, and nothing ever caught my eye as warped or out of place. However, there is not much that jumps out either for its quality. Sato uses very basic paneling, which is easy to read by also just slightly dull. The time-stopping elements were crying out for some sweeping panels of objects frozen mid-movement, but we never got any such content. In fact, there is no noticeable change in the art during those movements when time is stopped, other than Misuzu and Haruka acting like a pervert and exhibitionist respectively. If the writing did not specify when time was stopped or started, readers would have no idea.

Fragtime has an interesting concept but neither the grace nor charm to pull it off completely. The story is meandering and clumsily tries and fails to incorporate heavy topics and complex characterization into a generic Yuri school romance. The characters, particularly Haruka, are mostly unlikeable and wildly inconsistent, and readers have to force themselves to cheer for them or event finish this two-volume series. Most of all, Fragtime leaves an unpleasant and unsettling feeling with all its sleazy fanservice and perverted set pieces, clearly attempting to cater to specific audiences while utterly misunderstanding how teenage girls, or frankly, sane human beings, act. Any silver linings in its more relatable moments and competent presentation are whisked away by a mixture of contempt and disgust. Sadly, I do not recommend this manga, although I do appreciate that Seven Seas published the whole series in one omnibus volume so that it takes up less space on my bottom shelf.

Ratings: Story – 3 Characters – 4 Art – 6 LGBTQ – 2 Sexual Content – 7 Final – 3

Review copy provided by Seven Seas Entertainment

Purchase Fragtime in paperback and digitally today: https://amzn.to/32mzVmg

Purchasing manga legally supports publishers and creator. YuriMother makes a small commission to help fund future content.

[9tzuyu]

the art of delicate hands – pt. i

[ wandanat. ]

College AU.

Multiple part series ;

↳ snippets of their relationship and how I perceive them.

sumary:

wanda doesn't like to talk very much, only to her brother (and sometimes her lovely redheaded girlfriend).

notes:

if anyone international is reading this, ASL is shortened for american sign language (language of the hands).

+

this is a revised and edited version from when i wrote it on ao3 in 2018.

The only person that knew was Pietro. It was her little secret, and she could only hope that no one now would find out. She knew she shouldn't be ashamed, it was nothing to be ashamed over. Unsurprisingly however, it became her biggest insecurity – years of relentless bullying ensued that.

Wanda was always anxious. When she was seven she began experiencing panic attacks. The metallic taste of blood in her mouth became familiar over time as her panic attacks worsened.

All because she was mute and didn't feel comfortable to speak to anyone, including her parents. The only person Wanda felt comfortable enough to talk to was her brother (you could say that's because they're twins).

A doctor in Sokovia mentioned to Wanda's parents that therapy may help, that it may get her to speak more than four words a week. So her parents moved her when she was 16 and hoped for the best.

Within a year and a half Wanda was able to develop a clear understanding of American Sign Language. Eight months into the move and Wanda's parents had given up on Wanda ever talking, something that she took personal. They didn't catch on to English as quick as the twins did, their native language stuck closer than expected. Pietro didn't mind learning English quickly as he wanted to fit in school, and he also didn't mind studying ASL to communicate with Wanda on a deeper level.

American high school wasn't much better than her hometown. People talked, whispered and gossiped about her in class, muttered hurtful things about her appearance and the way she carried herself; a shy, quiet, timid girl. The worst part of it was when they mocked her for using a language that was supposed to feel safe for her. Pietro always came to her rescue, shooing people away, reminding them that she's his sister. The silver haired boy had no problem fitting in, it was only when they were apart did people tease the younger brunette.

When their parents died, Wanda took the brunt of the emotional attack it had on the twins. She'd been sitting in the backseat of the car, earbuds in, with her music volume at maximum capacity. Her father had tried to tell her to turn down the music while her mother rest in the passenger seat, window down with her eyes closed. When Wanda didn't hear her father, he reached over, eyes off the road, and tapped her. The second she registered his touch a semi-truck hit her father's door. In a matter of minutes Wanda and Pietro both were left alone to fend for themselves.

Putting the blame on herself only caused her to shut down further. It took over a year for Wanda to speak to Pietro again.

But as per usual, the twins stuck together and finished high school. The only difference was that they lived in foster care, they belonged to the state, up for grabs if anyone wanted them. That came to an end six months into their stay. The foster family proposed the idea of adoption, they had no problem in taking care of the twins for the rest of the time being – or, if they wanted, every day after as well.

At twenty, Wanda and Pietro eventually both went to college and shared a house with a bundle of other people on campus. The younger sibling even found herself a girlfriend within the group, her name being Natasha Romanoff.

Natasha didn't mind at all how little Wanda talked. She was curious, of course, but even before their relationship Nat never pushed her girlfriend into anything uncomfortable. Natasha could tell Wanda always made effort though, that's what drove the brunette into allowing herself a relationship.

When the redhead would sleep, Wanda would continuously practice signing. She'd sign songs and poems, movie scripts and books, everything she possibly could to improve herself. It was a very personal, in touch form of language for her.

Wanda had been with her girlfriend a little over a year and Natasha still didn't know all the unpleasant factors that came about her life. Wanda only told her just enough to get by, and she felt immensely guilty for that. Truth was she desperately wanted to tell Natasha, she just didn't know how. She'd thought about just signing something to her and hoping she would catch on, but figured that would be too much. Anxiety spiked in her chest and in her bones, and she was tired of feeling like a liar.

With a sigh, Wanda plopped down on her bed and pulled her phone out from her back pocket. Unlocking it, she went to her text messages and scrolled to Pietro's contact. When she was sure no one else was in the house, she tapped the call button and listened to the phone ring until Pietro answered.

"You know I'm in the other room, right? You literally could've called my name." He greeted, accent heavy through the speaker.

Wanda giggled as she ran her fingers through her hair. You're safe. Speak, it's okay. She reminded herself.

"Yeah, but are you free?"

"Always."

"Can you come here? I need to ask you about something." Pietro gave out a loud, playful sigh but walked to her room, disconnecting the call on his way in. "What is it, my dear sister? What could possibly be troubling you here on this day? Is it that scruffy redhead?" He smirked arrogantly but sat down in the desk chair across from Wanda, not failing to notice how she rolled her eyes.

"She doesn't have scruffy hair and you know it. It's soft, gentle – and much less damaged than your shit show of an excuse for bleached hair."

"Whatever you say, little chaos."

Wanda groaned, "Why must you still call me that?"

"It suits you well."

There was a shared moment of silence between the two before Pietro spoke up. "What was it you wanted to ask me about?" A small frown was plastered on Wanda's face and Pietro found himself wanting to know even more now. Wanda waited another minute before finally answering. "Should I tell her? You know, about..."

A huge smile took over her brother's face. He was ecstatic that she wanted this for her girlfriend. "Of course you should! I really think she'd be interested to know more about you – y'know, since you don't ever tell her anything."

"I tell her things!" Pietro shook his head, "Does she even know your birthday?" Wanda nodded and turned herself away from him. "I just don't know how to do it. I mean it'd be kind of heavy just taking her out to dinner only to tell her my deepest, darkest secret afterwards. I'm scared she'll hate me, Pietro! And I've never even spoke. More than like, 12 sentences all at once with her!" He softened knowing how much trouble one past  had caused his little sister. "Write her a note?" He suggested, but she shook her head. "I want to tell her, not write her."

Right before he was about to speak again there was a knock at the door. The pair looked up to find Natasha standing in the doorway smiling down at the two. "Am I interrupting?"

Wanda froze while Pietro arrogantly raised his eyebrow and announced his answer. "No. We were just finished talking."

Confusion was written on Nat's face and she stood there until Wanda shook her head and muttered a small "No," giving her the signal that she could come in.

"I'll be in the other room if you need me." Pietro got up, despite Wanda's silent plea for him to stay. He gave her a thumbs up and left the room.

Natasha closed the door and laid next to Wanda, wrapping her arms around the younger woman. "You okay?" Wanda nodded in reply and Natasha knew not to push. For now she'd just keep an eye on her, reassuring her that she could talk to her if need be.

Over the next few days Wanda seemed to be doing better. She was supposed to go to a party with Nat, but opted out to study for classes instead.

"Be safe," she whispered and planted a small kiss on Natasha's lips.

Everyone else went to the same party, leaving the house to just Wanda. She sent out a group message telling everyone to text her or ring her (at the very most importance) if they needed a ride. Wanda didn't drink much anyways so she didn't mind being the designated driver of the bunch. And besides, she didn't mind having some time alone, it gave her the absence of the boys so she could study.

However, after over an hour or so of studying Wanda was beginning to feel stressed. Her nerves were building and she could feel her jaw clench.

She needed a break.

With a small sigh, she got up and connected her phone to her speaker. After scrolling and clicking on her song of choice, Wanda found herself signing the words to a Modest Mouse song.

Green eyes closed as her hands began to string along with the words of the song. It was rather fast paced, but Wanda was able to keep up fairly well thanks to years of practice. Lyrics flowed through her fingertips and in the palms of her hands, her stress levels immediately decreasing as she went on.

Unbeknownst to her, however, Natasha was standing in the doorway watching her every move. She was absolutely mesmerized by Wanda's hand motions. Her finger spelling was very fast, and Natasha was curious to know how long Wanda had known ASL.

When the song was over, Wanda stopped her music and moved herself so she could study again. She grabbed her pens, pencils and highlighters, along with her textbook while her back faced Natasha.

"I didn't know you could sign." Natasha commented. A mix of shock and uneasiness quickly took over the calm look on Wanda's face.

It wasn't until then when Tasha put two and two together. She quickly rushed over to her girlfriend, and carefully engulfed her into a hug.

"Hey, no, I think it's really cool. You don't have to worry now, your secret's safe with me." Wanda began to shake in her grasp, tears forming in her eyes. She backed out of the embrace and against the wall, pulling her knees to her chest.

"No, you're supposed to hate me, laugh at me. You're supposed to be anything but be cool with it." Natasha tilted her head, "Is that what they did to you?"

Wanda peaked out from underneath her arms, the confirmative nod sent Natasha's heart well beyond sinking. She’d never understand how people could willingly be so cruel.

"I'm here to listen, not judge." Her words softly echoed in Wanda's mind, and she watched Natasha carefully to see if she was lying. When she didn't make any remarks or snide comments, Wanda knew it was safe. Accent heavy, she began letting words slip from her mouth.

"I have really bad anxiety when it comes to talking, so I just don’t. Asl makes it easier to communicate, but growing up I was often teased for it. You’re really good at reading me without it, so I hid it from you. Guess their words still haunt me...” Wanda finished, giving Natasha a little more insight on her life.

Natasha moved closer to her girlfriend, bringing Wanda’s shaking body into her embrace. She then kissed the top of her forehead.

Wanda looked up to see Natasha thinking, her eyebrows scrunched together and she was chewing on her lip. She nudged her.

“I think it’s quite beautiful if you ask me.” Wanda cracked a smile and rest her head on Tasha’s shoulder. “Beauty comes from pain, I guess.”

But Natasha shook her head, “No, No, beauty is in the eye of the beholder.” Wanda nodded. She understood what Natasha was saying, she just didn’t believe it to be true when it came to herself. Nonetheless, she spoke the words, repeating the mantra so that maybe she could start to feel a belief in them.

“Beauty is in the eye of the beholder.”

[muwur]

If requests are open.. Suga x reader -3rd year student- where friends to pining where reader is a exchange student mid year -parent’s job- and reader is new to the school, can barely communicate Japanese and is too shy to meet new people.. reader is welcomed as a co-manager for vb club and all the other boys adopt her has their sister. She tutors them in their English lesson too.. also how would Suga help her open up from her shyness..

request: sugawara x fem! reader who is a shy exchange student!

another beginning.

✩ one-shot ✩ for sugawara bb

❧ fem reader

✎ 4.9k words

a/n: FINALLY GOT THIS BBY DONE, ty for being patient requester <3 i hope its ok, lmk if u would like smth different!

also curious but do yall listen to music when you write or read? i dnt always but when i DO i listen to some boppy music so i can shake mah ass (unles im depresso AHAHA) LMAO rec me some pls--

send me asks--

current listen: juicy by doja cat, gasolina by daddy yankee, 11 PM by maluma

A pencil dangled between two of your fingers, gently swinging back and forth as you tapped the eraser’s tip against your chin in thought. Looking over Hinata’s shoulder at the worksheet laying on the table, you extended your hand and made a neat scrawl on the page. “That’s good translating, Hinata! However,” you dragged your pencil across the surface, marking a line and arrow to point at a space near the beginning of his sentence, “keep in mind that although gerunds look like verbs, they act as nouns. So, this word should go here.”

Yachi, who was seated to your right, nodded in agreement. “I looked through his notes doodles, and it looked like they were going over gerunds in class!”

With narrowed eyes, Hinata scanned the page, muttering the sentence underneath his breath. Suddenly, his hazel eyes lit up in understanding and his lips morphed into a round “O.” “Ohhhh, that make a lot more sense! Thanks, (y/n), you’re a big help, especially in English! Also, look, guys!”

He rummaged through his cluttered backpack and fished out a slightly wrinkled sheet of paper with a red “14/50” marked on the top right corner. Holding it up proudly, he declared, “I got a better score than last time! By nine points!”

“That’s still an F,” Tsukishima pointed out, eyes glued to the pages of the book he was reading. Yamaguchi and Kageyama tried to stifle their snickers.

“Y-You’re not even looking!” Hinata defended. The ginger was met with a shrug. “I don’t need to see the score to know you failed.”

Before any fighting could break out, however, the door swung open, revealing the remaining third-years. Bags of snacks in their arms, the four of them stepped in. “We’re back! Your parent/guardian let us in, (y/n),” Sugawara announced, setting his bag down on the table. The rest followed suit and set the goodies down. Rummaging through one of the bags, Daichi pulled out a meat bun.

“Hinata, here’s your meat bun,” he said, handing the snack to the excited first-year, who had long-forgotten Tsukishima’s snide remark about his lack of intellectual aptitude. Kiyoko offered Kageyama his milk, the slight brush of their hands being enough to stir Noya and Tanaka into an envious craze. Asahi tried to settle them down, nervously reminding them that they needed to act respectful in your home, especially after your family had agreed to let you all study there. You stifled a giggle as Sugawara and Daichi joined in, scolding their underclassmen for their poor behavior and threatening them with a time-out.

With an exasperated sigh, Sugawara took a seat next to you on the mat. “Ah, I can’t help but worry about how Ennoshita’s going to handle both of them on his own.”

Giving a sidelong glance to the second-year, who was now forcing Noya and Tanaka to complete timed practice problems, your lips formed a small smile. “Looks like he does a pretty good job at it, though.”

Sugawara let out an amused huff. “Guess I’m worried over nothing. Oh, also,” he dug into the plastic bag in front of him, taking out your favorite snack and offering it to you. “Here you go.”

(can u tell from my stories yet that fav snacks aka actions are my love language--)

“Oh, thank you, Suga, I didn’t even ask for this…” you flashed him a grateful smile and took the package from his hands, suppressing the blush that threatened to overcome your cheeks as your fingertips brushed. He gave a sheepish smile and glanced to the side in response, giving the back of his neck an anxious rub.

“Ah, it’s the least I could do to thank you for letting us all come over to study. It’s really helpful. I appreciate it, (y/n).”

“It’s not much, really. I’m more than glad to help you all (read: Hinata, Kageyama, Tanaka, and Noya) out with English and offer my place. Having everyone together makes it easier. They need to pass these exams so you all get to play.”

Your offer to help the team with their studies may have seemed a simple gesture as both their friend and co-manager. On the inside, however, you really were more than happy to have everyone over for whatever reason. It left you with a feeling of awe. The last thing you would’ve expected 3 months ago was to be sitting in your new home in Japan, surrounded by a group of people who accepted you despite your poor Japanese and late appearance to Karasuno. Just 4 months ago, after you learned about your parent/guardian’s job transfer to Japan, you were left feeling an array of mixed feelings:

Anxiety – a whole new country? With a language you could barely even speak or understand? How was that going to work? Could you even make friends at school? God knows how long it took you to make the friends you have now.

Disappointment – you were looking forward to graduating high school with the friends you’ve made throughout the past few years. Having to say goodbye would be difficult, and you’d miss them.

Yet, you felt a sliver of hopefulness – new experiences were waiting for you. You had the opportunity to lead a new life in a foreign place. It filled you both with fear and exhilaration.

On the night before your first day at Karasuno, you could barely sleep after spending hours religiously practicing how to introduce yourself in Japanese. Having to introduce yourself to the class and speaking with your new classmates was inevitable, after all. And so the next day, you found yourself standing in front of the classroom, trying to suppress the nervous shudder that threatened to rack your body and ignore the prickles of sweat on your palms. Despite how much you mentally recited your introduction that morning, your current situation left your mind blank, unable to conjure any words. Fueled by the awkward silence, the numerous gazes focused on you, and the growing pit of anxiety in your stomach, what came out was a quiet, jumbled form of what you intended to say.

“Hello, (y/n) (l/n). I’m (insert your original country name here). I can’t Japanese, but I hope friends. Everyone, nice to meet,” you bowed, both in respect and so that you could hide your face, which was red from embarrassment. You knew you messed up, but you pretended otherwise, hoping that nobody would point out your mistake.

You straightened up after a few moments of silence, registering the confused looks of your new classmates and feeling another stab of shame. In response to your introduction, the teacher raised her eyebrows and blinked in confusion. Then her eyes warmed, and she offered you a smile as she spoke up. “Class, this is (l/n) (y/n). She recently moved here from (insert OG country here). She’s still learning Japanese; however, her English is perfect, so I’m sure you can all learn something from each other. Please make her feel welcome. Your seat is over there, (l/n).”

Shoulders sagging, you made your way to your desk, avoiding eye contact despite the pairs of eyes that followed you to your seat. Focusing on the lecture was a struggle. Not only could you barely understand anything the teacher was saying; worries about how the rest of the day would go also flooded your mind. This was only the morning; how could you navigate your way through the halls? Ask for directions? Would you meet people? Where would you eat lunch? How could you survive?

The remainder of the classes went by gruesomely slow. Too embarrassed from your slip this morning and too shy to meet new people despite wanting to make a friend, you successfully dodged conversation with any of your classmates. You were relieved that finally lunch came by, yet that presented another problem. You weren’t sure where to go, but you were sure that you were going to eat by yourself.

After a few minutes of walking around the hallways, you settled for eating lunch in the classroom. At least it meant you didn’t have to rush to class after the bell rang. Taking a seat, you pulled out your boxed lunch and set it out in front of you. Painfully aware of how alone you must have looked, you pretended to look really interested in your meal (am i the only one or--). You poked it, broke it into pieces, then brought each sliver to your mouth and chewed slowly. If only your family had switched your phone plans earlier, then you could at least spend time scrolling the internet or lament to your friends back home about how your day was going.

Still “engrossed” in your meal, you failed to notice a figure standing in front of your desk. Only after you saw a hand situate itself on the edge of your desk did you look up.

You met the chestnut eyes of a boy. He bore a warm smile that made a small crinkle in his eyes and beauty mark. Strands of grey hair draped naturally in front of his eyes and framed the sides of his face. Despite your unease, his soft features helped to calm your racing heart and mind. He seemed a friendly person; after all, he was able to approach you.

“Hey, you’re (l/n), right? I’m Sugawara Koushi, but you can call me Suga. I’m in your class,” he introduced in pretty darn good English.

‘Man, that means he heard me this morning…’ you thought miserably. Yet, you couldn’t help but feel some relief. Perhaps you hadn’t given others or yourself much of a chance before jumping to the conclusion that you were incapable of meeting new people.

Clearing your throat, you shyly extended a hand to him in greeting. “Yes, I’m (y/n) (l/n). Call me (y/n). It’s nice to meet you, Suga,” you replied hesitantly, finally using the correct words in Japanese that you had been practicing the previous night.

Shaking your hand, his eyes widened in pleasant surprise. “Your Japanese sounds pretty good! You just moved, so you’re still learning, right? How about I help you improve that while you help me with English?”

You were about to nod eagerly in appreciation when you both overheard some snickering across the room. Two boys and a girl sat together, whispering quite loudly and sneaking oh-so-inconspicuous glances over at your desk. Taking notice that they were caught staring, they presumed to loudly munch on their meals and talk about the weather.

Suga only shot them annoyed glare and shook his head before turning his attention back to you. “Sorry, those are my… Friends.” The strain in his voice after saying that last word made you question if they really were on friendly terms.

After that day, you found yourself spending every lunch period with Suga and his other third-year friends Daichi, Asahi, and Shimizu. You initially felt unsure of how to talk to them, but after Sugawara’s efforts to include you in his circle and some reassuring words about being yourself and not letting a small, temporary language barrier hold you back from making friends, you earned a bit of confidence. While you spoke a hybrid of English and Japanese with them, you eventually managed to pick up a lot of Japanese from talking everyday, and after these few months of constant exposure, you were able to hold decent conversations. Additionally, the extra help you sought from the teaching staff allowed you to be able to keep up in class, and your instructors were understanding enough to give you some leniency on your assignments during this adjustment period.

Hanging around your new friends often, it was only a matter of time before you were introduced to the rest of Karasuno’s boys’ volleyball team. It occurred one lunch period three weeks after you first arrived, when Asahi suggested that you join some club activities. You were discouraged, however, considering that it was already halfway through the year, you didn’t know enough Japanese yet to converse with just anyone, and you were a tad shy, which made joining clubs a bit difficult. At that moment, your new friends all made eye contact with each other, then looked at you.

“Why not join our volleyball club?” Suga asked. “Shimizu could always use the help. She’s our only student manager.”

Shimizu nodded in agreement, her blue gaze soft. “Your help would be really appreciated. There’s a lot to this job, so having someone to split the work with would be relieving. You can also help me look for someone to take my place when we graduate.”

Later that day you found yourself in the gym being blocked by Sugawara, who was protecting you from two crazed boys whose collars were held back by Daichi. A ginger-haired boy looked at you with curiosity, excitedly introducing himself as Hinata and pointing out the names of the other members on the court (“This is ‘Bakageyama’ and that guy’s ‘Four-eyed Jerk Face’—").

Upon their release (which was granted only after they promised to behave), Tanaka and Noya dashed over to you, tears in their eyes as they held your hands and expressed their gratitude for your presence. “Oh, (y/n), you kind soul, helping Shimizu with the managerial work. Better yet, now we have two cute girls to support us, this is amazing!”

And that’s how you found yourself sitting with your new friends in your living room and feeling grateful for their vibrant personalities, kindness, and acceptance. You couldn’t have asked for a better batch of friends to end your year with. Though, you were most grateful to Sugawara. If not for him, the last several months of your highschool experience may have gone by miserably, with nothing special to note and no new friends to celebrate with. His gentle, understanding nature had done nothing but support you and make you feel welcome. He helped introduce you to a new, comfortable life you had trouble imagining before your arrival to Japan. He dispelled your doubts and fears, instilling in you a newfound confidence in your abilities. It certainly helped that the team was just as supportive and patient with you.

You could recount the events of the past few months that brought warmth to your heart. These people were growing on you, making you feel like you could be yourself more each day. Daichi provided you a sense of security and leadership. Asahi was empathetic, quick to detect your feelings of uneasiness and asking you if you were okay. Shimizu made sure to make you feel welcome as a friend and fellow manager, even inviting you to a café over the weekend to brainstorm ideas on recruiting a replacement (who you both later discovered to be Yachi) and try out some desserts. Tanaka and Noya tried to teach you all the Japanese curse words they knew, initially lying to you about their meanings so they could see the rest of the team’s reactions when you would blurt things out in the middle of practice (Let’s just say that Daichi, Suga, Ennoshita, and Tsukki knew whose fault this was, and Asahi was real shook hearing a string of curse words from your mouth while you sat there, no ill intent emanating from you whatsoever). Ennoshita gave you a comforting, easygoing presence. Tsukki was… Tsukki (LOL). But he could carry on a conversation, often genuinely interested whenever you talked about the culture back in (other country). And you knew he was soft. Hinata was a burst of energy, and you found his bickering with Tsukishima and Kageyama silly and quite precious. You often stayed with Yachi to toss balls to Kageyama late at night, much to his appreciation. Yachi and Yamaguchi were some of the biggest sweethearts on the team, and all you could think about was needing to protect them.

There was definitely something different in your interactions with Sugawara, though. You found yourself closest to him out of everyone. It may have been because he was the first you talked to, or maybe it was because he was one of the most easygoing people you’ve ever met. That, and you found yourself wanting to get closer to him. You wanted to know more about him.

Sugawara chuckled in response. “I suppose you’re right. We wouldn’t have made it this far without everyone,” he said softly, a tinge of fondness showing in his brown eyes. He proceeded to take out his schoolwork and pen, resting his chin in his palm as he read the words across the page of his assignment. Occasionally, you glanced over at him, admiring the way his eyebrows knit together in concentration, and how his hair brushed his cheeks whenever his head shifted in its position. How the grey tips of lashes kissed his bottom eyelids with each flutter of his chocolate hues. You even took a mental note that his lips, currently pursed in thought, were rather smooth and full in appearance.

A rogue thought about how those lips would feel against your own flitted across your mind. It brought a small pang to your chest, and you had to mentally slap yourself back into reality. You noticed these new feelings were starting to become more prevalent the longer you hung around Sugawara. You consulted your friends back home about it, and in their excitement, they insisted you had a crush on this guy (and demanded photos). Heart palpitations, heat-flooded cheeks, covert glances, and a desire for closeness in all aspects possible? All symptoms of infatuation, your personal love doctors concluded. You recalled when these signs first appeared about a month ago, after he offered to walk you home when practice had gone late into the night. Initially you declined, not wanting him to go out of his way when it was already dark outside. However, after seeing the soft look in his eyes as he declared he wanted to ensure you got home safely and that he didn’t mind the walk, your heart couldn’t help but give in and agree.

It was a tranquil night, accompanied only by the sound of crickets chirping and a cool, whispy breeze. About 15 minutes after having left campus, you were both seated on an aged bench at a small park, snacking on recent convenience store purchases to satisfy your growling stomachs. A comfortable silence settled in the air. The nightly surroundings were illuminated by the gentle glow of several nearby lampposts and stars that burned lightyears away.

Your gaze followed the tracks of a small bug crawling across the sidewalk in front of your feet. It skittered soundlessly against the pavement, eventually disappearing in the security of a bush. A gentle sigh took hold of your attention, and your eyes flickered over to your friend, who was peering up at the star-dusted evening sky.

“Do you know what you’re doing after graduation?” he asked, a hint of wonder in his voice.

You shook your head. “No clue, to be honest. You?”

He pursed his lips and took a sidelong glance at you before focusing back upwards. “Well, I’ve always wanted to be a teacher…”

“Seems fitting. Your Japanese lessons have been really helpful,” you pointed out, smiling.

The tips of his lips curved upwards as well. “Really? I’m glad. You’ve improved a lot, too. You’re a quick learner.”

“Heh, well I couldn’t have done it without you.”

Another comfortable silence fell upon you two before he spoke again. “I was thinking about how to keep in touch with everyone after we left, and how it’s a shame we’re leaving so soon after you arrived. I would’ve liked to know you better, too, but there’s only a few months left...”

His genuine words left a rosy tinge on your cheeks. As you were thinking of a response, you looked down, noticing how close your hand lay next to his. Heartrate quickening, you stammered, “Y-Yeah, I wish we had more time, too.. T-To hang around each other, I mean. But graduation doesn’t have to mean goodbye, right?”

“That’s true... You always know just what to say, you know that, (y/n)?” he turned his gaze on you and held out an extended pinky. “Promise to talk to me after graduating, then?”

You rolled your eyes playfully and huffed in amusement. Taking your own pinky and intertwining it with his, you nodded. “So long as you keep your end of the promise, too.”

“Of course.”

Sugawara’s voice brought you out of your momentary flashback. “(Y/n)? Can I ask you a question?”

Blinking your previous thoughts away and calming the warmth on your cheeks, you responded, “What’s up?”

He slid his assignment closer to you, pointing at a section he was having trouble with. “Here. I’m not sure if I’m doing this correctly..”

You leaned in, scooching towards him and closing in on the gap between you. Focused on the homework, you failed to notice how the brush of your shoulders made Sugawara’s body stiffen slightly. With your proximity, your scent easily wafted to his nose, and he could observe the closer details of your appearance. The hair tucked behind your ear exposed your cheekbone, looking soft to the touch. Your determined hues scanned the page, and he could visualize your thinking through your small, occasional self-nods. You looked cute and comfortable in the casual hoodie you wore, bringing him a strange, mixed sense of bashfulness and ease. His mind wandered, trying to envision how you would look if you wore any of his jackets, but his thoughts were interrupted by the sounds of your sweet voice and scribbles against paper.

“It sounds great, Suga! I just made a note there on how you can fix it; otherwise, it should be okay,” you gave him a reassuring smile as you slid his work back to him. You, however, didn’t shift back to your original position and instead stayed seated mere inches from the boy. Not that he minded, but…

“O-Oh, alright, thanks!”

It made concentrating during the rest of the study session a little difficult.

Occasionally you did get up, helping mostly the first and second years with some of their English assignments. His eyes would secretly (but c’mon, everyone but Hinata and Kageyama could tell) follow your figure, admiring the way you looked as you interacted happily with the others and did whatever you could to assist them. Yet you always returned to the same spot, near Suga. Close enough that everyone else on the team took notice (if they haven’t already), relayed the information via mental telephone, and secretly agreed to depart a bit earlier than they had anticipated.

“Oh, you guys are leaving already?” you asked everyone as they were packing up their belongings.

They all nodded in response, offering up their reasons for leaving earlier than the original time you set, which ranged from, “My parents wanted me home for dinner” to “My sister’s wasted and locked out of the house, nobody’s home—” (u good der Saeko)

Standing at your doorway, you waved to your friends, sending them off with a “I’ll see you at school!” as they waved back and filed out of your home. Looking over to Suga, who was still standing beside you, you wondered, “Oh, you’re staying?”

“Oh, yeah! I was surprised to see everyone leave so soon, but I was planning to head home in another hour. B-But I can go now if you need me to..!” he answered a bit shakily, waving around his hands in small, bashful gestures.

You shook your head and you waved your hand dismissively. “It’s okay, you’re more than welcome to stay for however long you need to.”

Settled back in the common area, you both tried to resume your schoolwork, but to no avail. Groaning, you leaned back, using your arms to support you from behind. “I’m tired of workingggggg.”

He sighed in agreement, resting an elbow on the table and propping up his head in a closed fist. “Same. Do you want to do something else?”

“Hmm..” you pondered aloud. “Do you want to see my room?”

Shrugging and responding with a “why not?”, you both stood up, leaving the common area to go to your room. You opened the door and stepped inside, Suga closely trailing behind you.

“Welcome to my room. Make yourself cozy,” you insisted as you sat on your bed and pat the spot next to you. He took your offer, taking a seat beside you and looking around your bedroom in curiosity.

“Something about this place really seems like you, (y/n).”

You raised an eyebrow at his comment. “Is it the messy pile of clothes in that basket or the neat desk I cleaned up this morning?”

He chuckled and shook his head. “I suppose you could say those are part of it. I just meant there’s a lot to you that you should feel comfortable sharing with others. People are complex and there’s so many sides to a person we discover along the way. I remember how timid you were in our first weeks of knowing each other, and now you’re getting along great with everyone and work hard to improve everyday. You were able to overcome a stressful repeat of entering highschool, but this time in another country, and adapted just fine! Your kindness and determination is admirable.”

Twiddling with your fingers, you felt a sheepish grin form on your face. “Aha, you’re too kind, Suga. You know I couldn’t have made these friends or adjust so well without your help. I was too worried about talking to anyone until you came up to me, so… Thank you.”

You risked a glance towards the boy, finding his chocolate gaze already set on you. If none of your interactions in the past month had set your heart ablaze, then certainly this moment would take the cake. Sugawara’s eyes flickered downwards briefly in a moment of hesitance, then locked again onto yours with a hint of an undetectable emotion lurking behind those irises.  Neither of you could bring up any words to say. The only sounds present were the soft hums of your breathing and the low creak of your bed as you found yourselves shifting your weight in order to inch closer to one another.

His mind flooded with a cacophony of emotions, from crippling nervousness to an allure for risk-taking. He could barely come to terms with the current situation and what might happen. Maybe he was overthinking it. Surely being this close face-to-face with someone who you just happen to like doesn’t automatically mean they like you back and want to kiss you just as much. Perhaps you were just leaning in to rest your head on his shoulder; after all, you did seem tired from the events of today. Or, you were scooting close for a better look at his face so you could point out, “hey, you got a little something on your face.” Perhaps a crumb from the cracker he had earlier?

But when he took note of the way your eyes fluttered shut, eyelashes caressing the tops of your dusted cheeks, his doubts began to waver. Maybe this was the chance he’s been seeking out lately. Once Daichi deciphered Sugawara’s affections for you, eventually the whole team found out and began to silently root for him. Thankfully, despite their blatant attempts to help him out, you hadn’t noticed a thing. It made him wonder whether you were oblivious, or just didn’t like him, or both. However, in this moment, when it appeared as though maybe you returned his feelings, he felt he should—as Tanaka would say—shoot his shot.

A sudden knock on the door sent you both jumping 5 feet away from each other. Frazzled and wide-eyed, you choked out a weak, “H-Hello?” in response to the interruption. The door opened, revealing your parent/guardian, who peeked inside.

“Dinner’s ready. Would you like to stay and have it with us?” they were asking Suga.

Heart still racing from the fear that gripped it, he blinked in surprise. He piped out a polite no thank you, reasoning that he didn’t want to intrude.

“Nonsense, we’re happy to have you. Come soon.”

They closed the door and left, leaving you two in an awkward silence that was soon interrupted by the sound of your cough. “We should, uh, get going…”

Standing up, you reached for the door with Suga in tow. The tension in the air remained between the two of you throughout dinner. Nevertheless, Sugawara was able to leave a good impression on your family by being a good conversationalist, even earning a few laughs from your parent/guardian. It made your heart swell at how natural it was for him to be able to get along with others.

After dinner ended and he packed his things, you stepped outside with him to send him off, closing the door behind you. He was about to salute you with a “thanks for having me over” when you gave him a peck on the cheek so sudden that he didn’t have time to react before you were already making your way back into your house.

“Thanks for coming, Suga! I’ll see you at school! Let me know when you get home!” you exclaimed animatedly, shutting the door quickly to hide your embarrassment from your sudden actions. You leaned your back against it, instantly regretting what you did with tightly shut eyes. ‘Oh gawd how am I gonna face him at school tomorrow dhefjkg.’

But on the other side of the door, Suga stood dumbfounded, hovering a hand over the area your lips had touch. Though highly embarrassed, he felt a rush of elation pass over him like a humongous wave that never stopped crashing against the shores.

He was starting to really think it was a good idea to introduce himself to the cute new girl in class. Nice one, Suga.

[srchng4answrs]

Absolution of sin isn’t easy. Every year in my Catholic high school they would bring in priests to listen to our confessions. We would sit in the auditorium an empty chair in between each person and one by one walk to the back of the auditorium where a man in vestments would sit ready to tell us that we are still God’s children. I never went.

“Before religion” isn’t a concept that exists for me. This is strange for many reasons, the primary being that my family is not religious in the slightest. We went to church out of obligation every Christmas and Easter, and stopped following that tradition when I was in 4th grade. I don't know what my mother thought I would gain from going to a religious school for 10 years.

Catholicism is the particular sect of Christianity that I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to reconcile with. The preaching of love and tolerance. The acts of service and the good deeds. Is it still a good deed if you’re doing it for personal gain?

Defender of Mankind. In Ancient Greek that's what the name Alexandria means. That's what My name means. I learned that at church. It’s ironic, the places that tell you you are meant to defend, are the same ones attacking. I wasn’t equipped to defend myself from the teachings of a group that I thought had my best interest at heart.

Eulogies in religious services are often delivered by the clergy member who is officiating the service. A religious eulogy will focus on the role of God and faith in the life of the person who died, rather than any secular accomplishments. I often write eulogies for people in my head. I have never once written something religious.

Father Sean was an odd man. Nothing against him but I wish he would stop sending me friend requests on Facebook.

Gabriel is a Hebrew name meaning “God is my strength”. He told Mary to not be afraid, but he was also the angel sent to destroy Jerusalem. Which one of those is real strength.

Half human, half divine. The manifestation of God in the flesh. How terrible it must’ve been to be crucified for telling the truth. To be needlessly slaughtered for the sake of people that want to see your organs fail as you slowly suffocate and bleed out. Father forgive them they do not know what they are doing.

I often wish I understood. I want to be able to walk into a church and feel god. I want to wear my Kairos cross without feeling like a liar. I don’t think religion was meant for people like me.

Jesus was not white. He didn’t have long flowing hair or a long beard. He was shorter than we think. Is it more disrespectful to put someone on a cross or to purposefully make their physical appearance more palatable for a racist audience.

Kairos may have been the closest I’ve ever been to experiencing god. For three days you sit in small groups and listen to people talk about their most traumatic experiences. Religious retreats are made to break you. To make you flood the earth with your tears. To make you turn to god because there’s no one else to turn to. I wish I could say with any level of certainty that my experience was real.

Love is such a funny idea. God “Loves” you. I still don’t understand the double standard of preaching love and then telling people they love wrong. I think there are bigger sins to worry about.

Matthew was a tax collector. One of the most sinful professions they lied, cheated, and stole from the poor. The Lord will not let the righteous go hungry, but will thwart the cravings of the wicked. I find “sinners” much more real than the righteous. At least sinners don’t go out of their way to tell everyone they sin.

No one in my philosophy of god class chose to walk away from Omelas. I remember it perfectly. You get to stay in a perfect city where everyone is happy, at the misfortune of one child. I spoke last. I would walk away. I still get chills thinking about it. I don't know why I made that choice.

Often my friends and I debate the existence of god. One philosopher said that you might as well because if you believe and god is real you gain everything, and if he isn't you lose nothing. But if you don't and he is real, you lose everything. We all know there's much more to religion than that. Simply believing in the omnipotent power that destroyed cities and flooded the earth has not, and will never be enough.

Prom was one of the most nerve wracking experiences of my life. I was the first person since my schools founding in 1957 to go to prom with someone of the same sex. That year three of my friends did the same. So much easier to just split the bill with a friend. I had to make a case for why I should be able to. Would the outcome have been different if I told them we were dating.

Questioning whether the omnipotent and all knowing being in the heavens that we cannot see, hear, smell, or touch is apparently against the rules. I got quite sick of the Lord’s Prayer.

Raining from the sky was blood. Thicker than water. Did it bring the people together or did it turn them against each other. The blood of the covenant is thicker than the water of the womb. Blood can bring people together, but I’m not sure it can wash you clean.

Sodom and Gomorrah were destroyed by sulfur and fire because of their wickedness. The two cities associated with homosexuality were burned to the ground. We have a history with fire. Fire cannot cleanse what isn’t dirty, but the ash will stain your hands for eternity.

Time stands still as I sit in the pews at my cousin's wedding. It seems like the hands on the clock are moving backwards. Instead of looking at them I stare at the sculpture of Jesus, crucified, blood coming out of his wounds, hanging roughly 10 feet above them. It isn’t alive. I’ve seen the same type of sculpture in a hundred different churches. But in this moment I can hear him gasping for breath. It was a beautiful service, I told her.

Uriel is the angel of repentance. In the Christian text the Apocalypse of Peter he is as pitiless as any demon. The devil himself was once an angel. What's the difference between angels and demons other than name.

Vanity was the reason the devil was cast from heaven. Born an angel and a king, free from sin he became proud of his beauty and intelligence and was struck down by God. I’m still unsure why he is considered the villain. Was it not God who leveled cities and murdered millions.

Without religion I’m unsure of what my life would look like. As hard as I try I cannot cleanly separate myself from it. Like a mouse stuck on a trap, when it gets free it either leaves its skin on the trap, or escapes covered in glue. I’m unsure if I can escape without leaving a part of myself behind, or taking something with me I did not ask for.

X appears 1,436 times in the King James version of the bible, but never at the start of the word. It is the only letter in the english alphabet that a verse does not start with.

Younger me used to enjoy church. I’m not sure why. I could never sit still, the sermons were boring, the pews were uncomfortable, and I couldn’t wait to go home. But without fail every Sunday I would wake up and get ready. I wish I could go back and tell myself that I don’t need to force myself into places I know I don't belong in order to be loved.

Zion shall be redeemed with judgment. I wonder if the same applies to me.

[oddcoupler222]

Do you have any book recs like yours and w. epic love scenes like yours?

I appreciate anything I’ve written being called epic in any way :) 

I don’t really know if I could accurately compare any books I’ve read to my own but I do have some book recs that I adore! I’ll give you my top ten lesfics for some variety

- Behind the Green Curtain by Riley LaShea (my ultimate fave romance)

When Caton’s sleazy boss offers her a position as his wife’s personal assistant, she accepts the job with reservations, certain Jack Halston has ulterior motives. After meeting Jack’s wife Amelia, though, it’s Caton’s motivations that begin to unravel. As vicious as she is beautiful, Amelia threatens Caton’s position and her sense of decorum. As the attraction between the two women spirals into a torrid affair, Caton is drawn deeper into Jack and Amelia’s world of privilege and prestige, where everything is at stake and nothing is what it seems. 

- All That Matters by Susan X  Meagher

Life is going damned well for Blair Spencer. She's a very successful real estate agent, happily married to a man who encourages her to live the independent life she loves; and they're actively working to have a baby. The wrench in the works is that Blair favors adoption, while her husband David desperately wants to have a biological child. The fates are against them, and they finally seek the help of a group of reproductive specialists. One of the doctors, a surgeon named Kylie Mackenzie, eventually becomes a good friend to Blair. And she needs all of the friends she can get when things start to go horribly wrong at home. As her marriage teeters on the brink of collapse, she relies more and more on Kylie's friendship. Kylie's happily gay; Blair's happily straight. But the way they structure their relationship leads friends and family to privately question whether the pair is setting themselves up for heartache. They eventually come to a crossroads, which could either destroy their friendship or turn it into what each of them has been seeking. The question is whether each woman can change her view of herself and her needs. The answer is all that matters.

- Alone by EJ Noyes 

Half a million dollars will be Celeste Thorne’s reward for spending four years of her life in total isolation. No faces. No voices. No way to leave.

Since Celeste has never really worried about being alone, the generous paycheck she’ll receive for her participation in the solitary psychological experiment seems like easy money.

When she finds an injured hiker in the woods bordering her living compound, her strictly governed world is thrown into disarray. But even as she struggles with the morality of breaking the rules of the experiment, Celeste can’t deny her growing attraction to the kind and enigmatic Olivia Soldano. Still, how much can you really trust a stranger? And how much can you trust yourself when you know all the faces you’ve seen and voices you’ve heard for the past three years have only been your imagination?

But what’s real? Celeste’s reality may lie somewhere between the absolute truth and a carefully constructed deception. (the concept of this is just INcredible. and the execution as well - perfect)

- The Goodmans by Clare Ashton

The lovely doctor Abby Hart lives in her dream cottage in the quintessential English border town of Ludbury, home to the Goodmans. Maggie Goodman, all fire and passion, is like another mother to her, amiable Richard a rock and 60s-child Celia is the grandmother she never had. But Abby has a secret. Best friend Jude Goodman is the love of her life, and very, very straight. Even if Jude had ever given a woman a second glance, there’d also be the small problem of Maggie – she would definitely not approve. But secrets have a habit of sneaking out, and Abby’s not the only one with something to hide. Life is just about to get very interesting for the Goodmans. Things are not what they used to be, but could they be even better? (there are not one but TWO perfectly written romances intertwined in this *chef kiss*)

- Pretending in Paradise by M Ullrich

When travelwisdom.com assigns PR specialist Caroline Beckett and travel blogger Emma Morgan to cover a hot new couples retreat, they're forced to fake a relationship to secure a reservation. Ten days in paradise would be a dream assignment, if only they'd stop arguing long enough to enjoy it. Reputations are Caroline's business. Too bad she was forced out of her previous job when an ex smeared hers all over the office grapevine. She's never getting involved with a coworker again, especially not one as careless and unprofessional as Emma. Emma knows that life is too short to play by the rules. But when she goes too far and a defamation lawsuit puts her job in jeopardy, she has to make nice with Caroline, the image police, and deliver the best story of her career.

Only pretending to be in love sure feels a whole lot like falling in love. When their story goes public, ambition and privacy collide, and their chance at making a fake relationship real might just be collateral damage. (there’s just SOMETHING about this that is super freaking cute)

- The Brutal Truth by Lee Winter

Australian crime reporter Maddie Grey is out of her depth in New York, miserable, and secretly drawn to her powerful, twice-married, media mogul boss, Elena Bartell, who eats failing newspapers for breakfast. As work takes them to Australia, Maddie is goaded into a brief, seemingly harmless bet with her enigmatic boss—where they have to tell the complete truth to each other. It backfires catastrophically.

A lesbian romance about the lies we tell ourselves.

- The Red Files by Lee Winter (kudos to her for being the only author that makes it to this list with two separate books)

Ambitious Daily Sentinel journalist Lauren King is chafing on LA’s vapid social circuit, reporting on glamorous A-list parties while sparring with her rival—the formidable, icy Catherine Ayers. Ayers is an ex-Washington political correspondent who suffered a humiliating fall from grace, and her acerbic, vicious tongue keeps everyone at bay. Everyone, that is, except knockabout Iowa girl King, who is undaunted, unimpressed and gives as good as she gets. One night a curious story unfolds before their eyes: One business launch, 34 prostitutes and a pallet of missing pink champagne. Can the warring pair work together to unravel an incredible story? This is a lesbian fiction with more than a few mysterious twists. (as someone who is usually pretty bored by any plot other than the romance, I actually enjoyed this mystery)

- Tricky Wisdom/Tricky Chances by Camryn Eyde

(for tricky wisdom)  Darcy Wright is a closeted lesbian who has been infatuated with her best friend, Taylor, since junior high. Leaving her small northeast Minnesota town for Harvard in a quest to become a doctor, she moves in with med-student Olivia Boyd, a neurotic, anal, gigantic pain in the backside. The first year of juggling medical school is grueling, but it’s nothing compared to living with Olivia.

Coming out to her friends and family with an anti-climactic flop, Darcy uses her newly publicized sexuality to try and win Taylor’s affections through an ill-hatched scheme that crosses uncomfortable lines. The result is as unexpected to Darcy as Darcy’s affinity for medicine is to Olivia.

The first year of medical school is a nerve-wracking encounter in medicine, learning lessons the hard way, and finding what her heart desires.

Tricky Chances is the sequel to Wisdom, but it’s the only lesfic sequel that i truly felt added to the first one and was just as gripping! Plus, the first book is only 48k words so the followup is perfect to come right after

- Who’d Have Thought by G Benson

Top neurosurgeon Samantha Thomson needs to get married fast and is tightlipped as to why. And with over $200,000 on offer to tie the knot, no questions asked, cash-strapped ER nurse Hayden Pérez isn’t about to demand answers.

The deal is only for a year of marriage, but Hayden’s going into it knowing it will be a nightmare. Sam is complicated, rude, kind of cold, and someone Hayden barely tolerates at work, let alone wants to marry. The hardest part is that Hayden has to convince everyone around them that they’re madly in love and that racing down the aisle together is all they’ve ever wanted. What could possibly go wrong? (this book comes in 9th because i don’t love it QUITE as much as i do all the others, but it was the one that got me into lesfic so! it’s good stuff)

And in a guest pick from the only other voracious lesfic reader i know, @debbie-eagan - 

Beautiful Dreamer by Melissa Brayden - 

Philadelphia real estate broker Devyn Winters is at the peak of her career, closing multimillion-dollar deals and relishing it. She’s pretty much blocked out her formative years in Dreamer’s Bay, where the most exciting thing to happen was the twice a year bake sale. Unfortunately, a distress call hauls her back home and away from the life she’s constructed. Now the question is just how long until she can leave again? And when did boring Elizabeth Draper get so beautiful?

Elizabeth Draper loves people, free time, and a good cup of coffee in the warm sunlight. In the quaint town of Dreamer’s Bay, she’s the only employee of On the Spot, an odd jobs company. She remembers Devyn Winters as shallow in high school, but now everything about Devyn makes her lose focus. Though her brain knows Devyn is only home temporarily, her heart didn’t seem to get the memo (I’m personally not a huge Brayden fan but a lot of other lesfic readers are so I reached out for a second opinion on this matter)

I hope you enjoy!

[sweetsoundsofignorance]

Currently running around bugging people and I want to know your thoughts on this: if you had full creative control of the show, how would you run season 5? You can pick and choose whatever leaks you want to include.

Thank you for the ask! 💕 A very fun exercise, and there has been some excellent speculation from the fandom. I’ve enjoyed reading everyone’s takes on it that I’m almost inclined to create bingo cards out of everyone’s nuttier speculations and play Riverdale batshit bingo for the season, a la Cabin the Woods.

I should say Riverdale speculation and leaks can leave me feeling overwhelmed at times, so I drift in and out when they are circling. Therefore, this rant is limited to the leaks/speculation/trailer gifs I have seen or heard about because I have no self-control. I’ve also not seen 4x17 or 4x18 (though I feel like I have through a mishmash of so many GIFs and recaps and speculations). In my mind, 4x17 is just *insert gif of Betty standing in the middle of the woods holding a bloody rock* Atm, no one knows how we got there.

Given the beginning of season five will be the tail-end of season four, perhaps start there? This got away from me, so it’s under the cut.

I imagine they will close four with the reveal of the voyeur and Chic/Charles plotline (with Riverdale you never know where they’re going to be selectively sloppy). In that case, I have fully adopted the following speculation/serenity prayer: see @sullypants theory here. It’s the perfect level of batshit Riverdale and it’s consistent with the hypnosis (cannot keep a straight face just typing it) plotline. I know, consistent and Riverdale should never be in the same sentence without some negative participle in between. So, that “cleans up” the Bughead infidelity but leaves Varchie in the weeds (sigh). It would ex out Charles/Chic. The fallout would break up Falice, possibly.

 FP gets busted for all the shady shit he’s done as sheriff and has to flee the country, so hi, Canada, but no wrestle mania with the grizzly bears this time. Or he gets eaten by a bear. I don’t care.

 Veronica gains some self-agency and leaves for college. Though I want her to get out from under her father, loyalty to family is so engrained with the Lodges that I don’t see it happening. Maybe we’ll get lucky and Hiram’s terminal illness kills him. If Toni and Cheryl break up, Cheronica may happen through their rum business, which takes off. I would not be remiss if Cheryl and Veroncia were endgame, but I know it won’t shake out like that, so. Also, if it is hypnosis, I hope Veronica and Betty would still be friends long-distance.

 Toni takes the reins for the Southside, ends the rampant Serpent misogyny, actually makes the neighborhood a safe space for the residents, and works to end the cycle of poverty. She manages the White Wyrm, and yes, there are still strippers because nothing wrong with that, but the Serpent Dance is barely a footnote. I am curious if they will shoot around Vanessa’s pregnancy, but if they incorporate it into the show, I would not be against Cheryl and Toni having a child together. If they did not break up.

 For Jughead, he got his MFA at Iowa, but in true millennial fashion, never made it past that (for a great fic on the plight of the underemployed over-educated millennial see @imreallyloveleee head underwater). He might have written a first novel that was semi-popular, received a few good reviews but overall lambasted by the bigger names. Head canon is that it becomes a cult classic in later years, perhaps a screenplay. Hard forever no to him being an alcoholic, but I can see some Sideways-level angst dealing with trying to get over writer’s block (plus anxiety block based on the mediocre success of his first) for his next novel and some bitterness about his first novel, which may be the driving wedge between Jughead and whoever ends up being his SO in this scenario.

 Jughead as an English teacher gels for me. I’ve written him as an English teacher. I like reading him as an English Teacher (*cough* *cough* @geekspen). Though they flopped with the Jug and Jellybean relationship in season four, I always imagined Jughead from season one and that brief moment in season three as a very present and considerate big brother type. Based on those brief interactions we have gotten, I would believe Jughead is good with kids, especially teenagers. He’s had experience dealing with dumbass adolescents, i.e. the Serpents, and (kind of) keeping them in line, mainly by out-extra-ing the morons (see declaring himself gamemaster by ordering Cheryl to shoot an arrow through a can on his head). I see him being that curmudgeonly teacher that gets along with those grab-bag students on the edge of committing a crime out of sheer boredom who linger in their English teacher’s classrooms during lunch and after school (that’s how we started our creative writing club in high school), and that leads me to a head-canon about him starting, yes, a creative writing club or running the Blue and Gold. I love full-circle shit like that. I think he would be an objectively bad teacher but a very good one in the context of Riverdale, if that makes sense.

 Bughead long distance did not pan out, and Betty being Betty immersed herself in her career – degree in criminal psychology, BSU at the FBI, the whole shebang. Reports of a giant man with red eyes and wings seen in the vicinity of places where people are disappearing. FBI!Betty investigates these at her alma mater until one happens in Riverdale, which drags her investigation thattaway.

 Veronica is unhappy with her SO for whatever reason (not exactly jazzed about her being with a douche but ok). She is successful but wistful. Her father dies. She uses it as an excuse to break up with her SO and return to Riverdale to help her mother manage the estate. Because Veronica is successful in her own right, most of the estate goes to her mother and Hermosa. She returns to Pop’s one night for nostalgia’s sake. She signed the diner back over to Tate years ago.

 Jughead is there struggling to write after a fight with his SO.

 Side note: I don’t like love triangles. Even less, I don’t like setups for more infidelity, even if it would lead to my ship ending up together. I understand that is often the reality (I’ve witnessed it), but I think it is bad writing. So, for any of the core four’s respective SOs, please no cheating on them. Break it off. Learn from your mistakes. Therefore, Jughead soon breaks up with his SO after meeting Veronica in Pop’s.

 Veronica sits with him. Cue some reminiscing. Perhaps the mystery starts in the speakeasy, of which Veronica is still the partial owner. This connects Betty and Veronica down the road. Because Jughead witnessed it, Betty crosses paths with him.

 Initially, Betty is reticent to let Jughead get involved with her investigation. However, Jughead is just as obsessed with the mystery (because he’s him), so they keep running into each other. He gets in the way a few times (more tension). Eventually, Jughead ends up discovering some important piece of evidence that Betty needs, so she gives in. Before he joins her investigation, he may be keeping his own personal murder board in the Blue and Gold at school after hours… Lots of sexual tension. I’d even be down for friends with benefits because *insert gif of Donna accusing Betty of being addicted to Jug’s vitamin D*. But Betty knows she isn’t going to stay in Riverdale and they’ve already tried and failed long-distance, so she keeps putting on the brakes. Jughead starts to get his writing mojo back, too, because I will never not believe Betty is his muse.

 Archie. Oh Archie. Deployed overseas for a time, though I cannot stand the idea of giving this kid anymore PTSD. He returns, and for a while, spends most of his time alone at the old gym and in the Andrews home. His old army buddy shows up out of work. He works with Toni to create a real community center for the Southside youth because I enjoyed that poorly executed plotline in season four. This also gives his army buddy a job. His army buddy is from New Haven, so he ends up being a Mothman suspect, given it started at Betty’s alma mater.

 Through his work with Toni, he gets dragged into Jughead’s orbit. Maybe they both try to reactivate the community center’s big brother program together. It’s just very difficult for me to imagine Jughead accepting/forgiving Archie, and though I cannot imagine how they would resolve it, I would like to see it.

[babyeijra]

Socially Anxious INFJ Introvert

January 22, 2021

Okay, so it’s been a while since I last made an entry in this blog

I feel like I had to write something about what happened today because I wanted to get over something that I know will bug me if I don’t vent it or say anything about it.

I have always known that I have social phobia. Even without being clinically tested or what do you call it, psychological testing or diagnosis from a professional(?), I know I have social anxiety. I just don’t know what degree, but I know it’s there. Since elementary and high school, I was a quiet kid. I never speak unless spoken to, I don’t even interact with relatives, cousins, or strangers I just met. I have always been like that. I was afraid to be called in class, I get mental blocks when I get called even when I know the answer (this really happened), that’s why I don't participate in class recitations, and activities (unless forced). If I get called, my mind blanks, my heart pounds so hard, and I could feel the blood rush through my whole body and to my brain. Then if I stutter, I feel like I don’t know what I was saying, l feel like I’m being laughed at secretly and I would think of it hours, even days after what happened. And I learned that by writing it and reading more about my condition, and reading from other people’s (with social anxiety) experiences, that’s when I could get past one mistake or move on from my shame. When I read that there are others just like me and have experienced what I went through or going through, is only when I could move on from ONE mistake. But then, until when am I going to be like this? I honestly thought I got passed this social anxiety. That what I had was just acute social phobia, nothing too serious, that I will not experience anxiety to my adulthood, that I could now proceed of dreaming to be a lawyer since I passed high school, college, and now a CPA working in the government. I got passed a lot of interviews when I was just trying to find work as a fresh graduate. I thought, maybe nervousness during interviews, or presentations is just normal?

But now that I think about it, I had always needed days, even weeks of preparation and practice to get passed simple interviews. I had always had sleepless nights thinking of the days of interview. In high school I had always needed to study 5 times, even 10 times harder just so I wouldn’t get left behind, because I lack class participation. I always though I was stupid or stupidest person in class, I had always envied my classmates who can get through being called and being made to stand to answer and yet giving the wrong answer, because they seem like they were answering a question like it’s nothing, being called to stand is nothing, reporting in front of class is nothing, speaking and interacting with others is nothing. But for me, it’s not a simple “nothing”. I would think about it, I would remember my embarrassment when I stutter, or get mental blocks and gave the wrong answer, I would remember the judging stares (my mind probably had created).

I could recount, even today, how my high school English teacher, embarrassed me had called me to answer the last question, in front of everyone. The previous questions I had mentally answered and got them all right, after they were discussed or when my classmates had got it also right after they were called to answer. It was coincidental or I don’t know, that the last question was given to me. I had already made up my mind on the answer to the last question before being called. But when I was called, I don’t know what happened. My mind went black, and every symptoms of a social anxious person (from what I read from others’ experiences), I had really felt. I missed to give the right answer which I had already made up before. It just went away, I tried many times and I still had given a different answer, During that time, I really forgot what I answered in my head.  Didn’t I say, I went blank? And so this teacher made it worse by saying,  “If you got the highest score in the exam, you have to prove it, otherwise I would think you cheated” (nonverbatim). Okay now that I think about it, was she allowed to say that to a student? (I want to know the answer to this). I felt embarrassed then, but no one can deny the fact, that I did get the highest score on her exam. I really studied hard (like five times hard) and I listened well in class in high school and not because I wanted to compete with others, but I really had an interest to learn, and I also thought I was stupid and might fail (because of my lack of participation) that’s why I had to recoup by studying. I had the lowest self confidence and self esteem then. It was the lowest of the low. Surprisingly, actually, I graduated high school as salutatorian, and I dreaded it. I never wanted to be salutatorian. I never want to make a speech in front of many people, on the stage in an open space, at the University Quadrangle. I thought, maybe I’ll just get the “1st honorable mention” (3rd in the batch) or even 5th place, because I knew, what would pull me down (even though I sometimes or often times get the highest scores in exams and quizzes; Math, Science, Physics, and others included. Okay maybe except Filipino) was my lack of participation.

But yeah. Surprised? I was the salutatorian? Although it made me proud after I learned this from our class adviser (also our trigonometry teacher), but the next second I felt was, dread. “Oh shoot! I had to make a speech. I had to speak in front of everyone!”. Did you know, I even cried inside the Teacher’s room, in front of all the teachers, when we, I and another classmate who was the valedictorian, was asked to rehearse our speech in front of them? I was so nervous, I was crying while I was trying to speak (and the tears were not happy tears). I was so nervous that it made me cry. Can you imagine that? And you know what, the teachers actually thought? That I was crying because of happy tears, but I said to them, it’s because, “Gina kulbaan ako”(I’m really nervous). I should tell you, that when I said “crying”, I was spasm-sobbing (you know that sound you make when you cry, you get breathing spasms or hiccups) and had runny nose. I was a mess inside that teacher’s room. When I got out, my valedictorian classmate asked, “Ngaa nag hibi ka?” (Why did you cry). Yup, this happened. I need not relay to you what happened during the graduation. It would take up the time. Oh yeah!, I tried to think of ways to skip delivering the Salutatory Speech, like searching “how to get colds” so my voice will get coarse. I guess I would say, I never want to experience that (Salutatory Speech) again! And I had more also experiences in college. Like when we had to stand in front of the Audio Visual Room. And recite a (I think it was a long poem or verse). I was able to memorize it, but when I got in front. Well, you guessed it. I panicked and had a mental block. *sigh*

Wow, I actually made a long entry about my high school experiences as a Socially Anxious INFJ Introvert. I haven’t even gotten work experience yet. Huh!

I guess I need to let everyone first know the struggle of being a Socially Anxious Introvert from childhood experience POV, or what one feels like when speaking in front of everyone. So please, don’t judge this entry. What happened today, during our online Legal research class was, we had an oral exam about a hearing observation we had of a case. It was the easiest question by our Professor (who is a MCTC Judge) I think out of everyone’s. But I wasn’t prepared for the easiest question. I prepared for different questions and not the one she asked. So yeah, I blanked, stuttered and I guess and most probably flunked. Now you may be asking. Why did I enter Law School if I have a Social Anxiety? If you really read everything above, you’ll get the answer.

PS, I used at least 2 and a half hours of writing this entry. I have final exams next week. But I know I really couldn’t concentrate if all I think about was what happened 3 hours ago. I wanted to move on from a mistake and embarrassment. I really feel like and did sound stupid answering that SIMPLE question.

Now, what do you think? Should I give up Law School? Or try and conquer my fears in Law School? Do I even have a chance? Do you think I’m being brave? or being stupid for taking up Law but can’t even speak properly.

Any answer from anonymous person will be appreciated. Even if it’s a discouraging answer. I should accept the truth, whatever truths there would be. When I said, “don’t judge” I don’t mean it. Judge all you want really. It is the fact of the world. We even do it unconsciously.

PSS (is there such?), I have found a site (just now, while looking for pictures) that also talks about dealing with Social Anxiety in Law School (http://www.thelegalduchess.com/2018/08/dealing-with-social-anxiety-in-law.html). So I guess I’m not the only one. (by Sam Smith lol, unrelated content but still a good song). 

Will take time to read it. But, I need to study after this entry. (ugh! 😖The horror, I have a lot to cover for the finals and I have wasted so much time). I feel a lot better after writing this. So I guess it was not wasted time after all.

PPS: 12:17 am more than 4 hrs since my bad recit. I still can't concentrate. I have now been watching youtube about moving on from bad recits. I still cringe everytime I remember it, quite often. That's why I dont think I can remember what I read. Also, I'm writing this because I remember something. Studying harder is now 10 times harder to do in law school, especially if you are a full time, full load, working student. I couldn't prepare well for the next class, and I couldn't prepare for all possible questions as a Socially Anxious INFJ Introvert (which means all questions my mind could think of, because like I said, there'd be no time). And what makes it more embarrassing and humiliating, I have a classmate who is also a coworker (she's in a different work group) and her husband is also my coworker in the same work group.

[rami-hoe]

Confessions (Part five)

Pairing: Josh x reader 

Word Count: 2.3K 

Graduation was just around the corner, and as much as I wanted to pretend like I was cool about it, I was freaking the fuck out. After the prom everything became far too real for my liking. This was it. On June 25th, I would officially be a high school graduate with the diploma and the hat and everything. University, something that up until this point had seemed like some kind of mythical creature, was now only a few months away. I was finally starting to understand what people meant when they said “the end of an era.” People I’d known for years would disappear from my life. Most of them would never return to it. It’s not like we were all joined at the hip, but the idea of never seeing the people I’d spent six hours a day, five days a week with for the last 13 years again was a lot more frightening than I cared to admit. 

I suppose I was one of the lucky ones, though. I wasn’t going through my graduation freakout alone. Josh was right there, every step of the way. He already had his college plans lined up. He knew exactly where he wanted to go and who he wanted to be. I, on the other hand, wasn’t so sure. The idea that I had to decide what I wanted to do for the rest of my life right now was terrifying- I didn’t know how Josh did it. Truth be told, I envied him. I would give anything to be half as certain as he was. There was no apprehension with him, no doubt. He told me he’d known what he wanted to do with his life since the fourth grade. For him, graduation wasn’t a giant leap into the dark abyss that was the rest of your life- it was just another step forward on a path he was already sure of. 

I tried to avoid talking about graduation as much as possible, but it wasn’t exactly easy when Josh was so excited about it. It seemed like every time I saw him, he had something new to tell me about the grad party he was planning, or the program he was planning on taking in the fall. It was a film studies BA and he couldn’t be more thrilled about it. It was at a pretty great university too, and he hadn’t really expected to get in. When he got his letter of acceptance, he was over the moon. I wanted to be supportive and happy for him and all that, but whenever he talked about where he was going, I was reminded of the fact that I was standing still. Thankfully, Josh didn’t seem to notice. He was too wrapped up in his plans, and I was grateful for it. I didn’t really feel like discussing my complete and utter lack of direction with someone who had his plan written in stone by the time he was thirteen.

                                                      ♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️

When the bell rang at the end of last period, I grabbed my stuff from my locker and hurried out into the parking lot. This week had been entirely too long, and I was looking forward to finally getting some time to relax. When I got to Josh’s car, I leaned against the passenger’s door and pulled out my phone. Beth and Hannah showed up just a few minutes later. “Where’s Josh?” Beth asked. I shrugged. “Probably just got caught up with Mike or something.” We were waiting there for about ten minutes before Josh stalked out of the building. 

“Took you long enough,” Hannah said. She was just teasing, but Josh shot her a glare anyway. 

“You don’t like waiting, you can walk,” he said. He unlocked the car and got in the driver’s seat. 

“Jeez. I was joking, take it easy,” Hannah mumbled as she and Beth scooted into the backseat. 

“You okay?” I asked quietly as I pulled my door shut. 

“Fine,” he replied. He wasn’t, that much was obvious. I’d learned to read him pretty well over the past decade or so, and on the Josh scale of pissed off, he was at a seven. Not good. But if he didn’t want to talk about it in front of his sisters, I wasn’t going to push it. If it were at a four or five, maybe, but not a seven. “Am I dropping you at home or what?” Josh asked, breaking the… Well, I don’t think you could call it uncomfortable silence since the radio was playing, but it was tense and no one was talking. 

“Nah, I’ll come back with you guys,” I said. When we got back to the Washington’s place, I followed my brooding boyfriend down to the basement. He grabbed two cokes from the mini fridge and plopped down on the couch. 

“You gonna tell me what’s bothering you now?” I asked as I sat next to him and claimed the second coke. 

“It’s nothing,” he said as he leaned forward to grab the remote. I snatched it out of his hand before he had a chance to turn on the TV. “Y/N!” 

“You’ve been in a bad mood since we left the school,” I said. “What happened?” 

“I just had a bad day, okay?” His jaw tensed as he spoke. Shit, we were moving into eight territory. 

“You were fine this morning, and you were fine at lunch,” I said softly. I didn’t want to fight him. If I got too pushy, he would just get more dismissive. “I just want to help. Talk to me.” 

Josh sighed and put his can down on the table. He didn’t use a coaster, but that table already had too many water rings to count. I was pretty sure his parents bought it knowing Josh would have it looking like shit in no time- it was the only cheap thing they owned. “It’s nothing,” he repeated. “It’s stupid. It’s just…” I didn’t say anything. It seemed best to let him get there on his own. “Ms. Larson stopped me after class today,” he started. Ms. Larson was his English teacher, and one he was none too fond of. “Said she was ‘concerned about me’ and wanted to know what my plans were for after graduation.” He scoffed. “So I told her what I was doing and she just looked so… Shocked. Like she couldn’t believe I actually had a plan.” 

I scooted closer to him. “She doesn’t know the first thing about you,” I said. 

“But she’s not the only one,” he argued. “Everyone- my guidance counselor gave me a pamphlet on exploratory studies before he even asked what I wanted to do. Jess is always making those bullshit jokes about how I’m gonna ‘drink my way through college. My fucking Aunt Lisa called to tell me how surprised and excited she and Uncle Bill were that I was going. Everyone thinks I’m just some stupid slacker who’s gonna mooch off his parents until they die.” 

“Then fuck everyone,” I said. “If any of them really knew you, they’d know there’s nothing to be surprised about.” 

“Isn’t there?” He laughed humorlessly. “I’m just some party boy screw up, right? People are probably laying down bets on how long it takes me to flunk out.” 

I grimaced at the harshness in his voice. Josh was always his biggest critic, and as aloof as he may seem, he took people’s opinions of him to heart. “Don’t talk like that, Josh,” I said. “Take it from someone who does know you- you’re a lot smarter than people gave you credit for. You know what you want out of life, you just aren’t afraid of having some fun while you work towards it. That’s not a screw up.” 

Josh tucked one leg under himself and turned to face me fully. “But what if they’re right.”

“They’re not-” 

“They could be! What if I get there and I can’t do it. I’m not like you, Y/N; I don’t have the kind of options you do.” 

I furrowed my brow. “What?” “I mean, you could do anything, and whatever you decide to do, you’re gonna be great at. You literally can’t choose a program because you have so many options. But all I have is this one thing I think I’m good at, and if I’m not… Then I’m just gonna be exactly what they all think I am: a loser.” 

It took me a minute to process what he’d just said. Was that really what it looked like from the outside? Like I just had too many options? I shook my head. “Josh, I can’t choose a program because I have no fucking clue what I want to do with my life. I don’t know what I love yet; you do. And that’s exactly why you’re not gonna fail,” I said. “You’ve had this passion in your life for so long; you’re not gonna give up on it until you’ve reached your goal.”

The faintest of smiles twitched onto Josh’s lips. “Is that what you really think or are you just saying that to make me feel better?” 

“I don’t know anyone more willing to put in the work to make their dreams a reality than you,” I said. “You’re gonna kick this program’s ass.” 

Josh leaned in and kissed me softly. “Thank you,” he whispered against my lips. 

I chuckled. “You’re welcome,” I said. “And if anybody else tries to tell you you’re not cut out for this, you send them my way.” 

“You gonna beat them up for me?” 

“What kind of girlfriend would I be if I didn’t?” He laughed, and I surrendered the remote I was still holding hostage and cuddled up to him. 

He turned the remote over in his hands a few times, but didn’t turn the TV on. “You know there’s nothing wrong with taking a gap year, right?” 

“I thought we were talking about your college problems,” I said. 

“We were,” he said. “But I didn’t realize you had college problems to talk about. And relationships are supposed to be, uh.. What’s that word? It’s like mutual but- oh- reciprocal!” He grinned proudly. “So we talked about my problem, now we can talk about yours.”  

I sat up. “It’s not really a problem,” I said. “I’m just feeling like I should have my shit together more than I do.” 

“I mean, how many people honestly have their shit together at eighteen?” he asked. “I don’t think it’s very many.” 

“It seems like everybody from where I’m standing,” I said with a sigh. 

“Nah,” Josh said. “It’s just a lot of people pretending to know what the hell they’re doing in life so the rest of the world doesn’t find out they’re scared shitless. Myself included. At least you have the balls to admit you need some time to figure it out. Plenty of people go to uni right out of high school just because they’re worried about what people will think if they don’t.” 

“I didn’t realize being aimless in life was such a courageous act,” I said sarcastically. 

“You’re not aimless,” Josh protested. “You want to figure out what you want to do- that’s an aim.” 

I snorted. “I don’t think that counts,” I said. 

“Of course it counts!” He argued. “What bigger goal is there than figuring out what you want to do for the rest of your life? It’s not a given. Some people never get there. You’re not taking a year to fuck off and do nothing- you’re taking a year to make a massive decision you haven’t had time to really think about yet. There is nothing wrong with that.” 

My gaze fell to the rings on the coffee table. “I hate it when you make sense,” I said. “It’s a lot easier for me to stay angsty when you aren’t being all sweet and encouraging.” 

Josh chuckled and kissed the side of my head. “Too bad. I don’t plan on stopping any time soon.” 

I smiled up at him. “I love you.” 

He ran the back of his fingers down my cheek. “I love you too.” 

“Can we watch something stupid now? I need to wash off all this coming of age shit,” I said with a grin. 

Josh laughed and turned on the TV. The sci-fi network came on; it was playing a marathon of the original Star Trek series. It took about five seconds to recognize the episode and gasp. “Oh my god, it’s Spock’s Brain,” he said. He turned his head towards me with this huge, open-mouthed smile. “If you want something stupid, this is the goddamn motherload.” He grabbed the remote, paused the show, and leapt up from the couch. “Hold on, I need to get some snacks. This is a masterpiece of the small screen- we need the full experience.” He ran up the stairs and into the kitchen. I wasn’t done laughing by the time he came back with a bag of Doritos in one hand and a bag of chocolate chips in the other. “We didn’t have any movie candy,” he said. “But these’ll be fine.” He sat back down, grabbed the remote, and looked at me. “Are you ready for the worst thing you;ve ever seen in your life?” 

“Hell yeah,” I said, and he pressed play. In that moment, watching Josh eat a handful of chocolate chips while this god awful episode played, it didn’t matter that I wasn’t sure what I wanted to do with my life. I knew who I wanted to spend it with. And that was enough.