#the way he compliments her hair... that part always gets me. as an indian girl my hair naturally means a lot to me and i spend a lot of time

[silverselfshippingchaos]

this scene is so silly ajdjajsja but I can't stop thinking of him saying that to Ash and Ash just grinning.

"... G.arrus, humans usually just say 'you have a nice ass'"

"That's not what I meant! I wasn't even looking there- Well- Actually- Uh... I-I meant, you know.. It's just, well, uh... Oh, come on, Ash! You know I'm new to this!"

And then she bursts out laughing.

[thesoobfiles]

your highness – a. skywalker

Jealous! Anakin x Queen! Reader

Request: anon, could we get a jealous! anakin imagine?

Words: 4k

Summary: Reader is the queen of the alien planet, Roe’ Leor, a planet very rich in natural resources and starship fuel. It was previously a neutral system; however, the Republic has finally roped them in. In celebration and in honor of their alliance, the Queen has thrown a formal party to recognize this new friendship. Invitations extend to the royal family, the royal guard, royal officials as well as the staff, Republic Senators and the Jedi of course. After Ani’s met the Queen and after the dancing begins, Anakin gets jealous when he sees her dancing with another man…

A/N: I’ve been experiencing the BIGGEST writers block and lack of time to write and I’m SO sorry this took so long. I also had trouble trying to think of something that isn’t overplayed like jedi! reader and senator! reader... I’ve had this in my drafts for a week now and I apologize I haven’t published it until now... I hope it was worth the wait though :) A couple things I want to point out: 1) Roe’ Leor is a production of my imagination; it’s not a real planet in the Star War universe, 2) I imagine the handmaiden with a soft British accent, 3) you don’t really get to fill in a lot because you’re an alien and your skin color, eye color, etc. is already pre-determined, 4) the Roe’ Leor culture is like a mix of Indian and Haiwaiian (certain thinks like names and outfits) and 5) this Anakin is kind of like a mix between rots! Anakin and tcw! Anakin. I’m sorry I talk so much and enjoy! ~

-

I look out of my large bedroom window as my handmaiden, Lei, prepares me for the event tonight. I just love the blues and purples that color the sky when the suns set…

“I do as well, my lady.” Lei speaks up. I jump slightly at the sudden sound.

“I hadn’t realized I said that aloud…” I said, distractedly.

“Well, I’m glad you did, your majesty. The sound of your voice is always lovely to hear, no matter the scarcity.” She replies with a small smile on her face. I smile back at her. What a wonderful girl…

The thing about being Queen is I’m not allowed to speak, only under specific circumstances like negotiations. Hearing my voice should be ‘a privilege’. I think it’s nonsense; but until my request goes through Leadership, I must adhere to the rules…

Lei adjusts the pallu part of the sari and places the traditional red flower behind my ear. She spins me around to look in the full-length mirror and I smile. She always does such excellent work making sure I look presentable. I look at Lei in the mirror and whisper a ‘thank you’ in our native tongue.

“You are quite welcome, your highness.” She smiles and bows before leaving my presence.

I look in the mirror once more and really take in my appearance. The amber color of the sari and petticoat really compliments my green eyes and the vermillion of the choli, fine stitching and border look exquisite against my light orange skin. To top the whole look off, my hair is loose, free to fall in waves upon my shoulders. Luckily, it doesn’t take too much away from the golden jewelry that adorns my body; the delicate necklace hanging upon my neck and the simple, yet elegant bangles that slip towards my wrist. If there’s one thing I love about being Queen, it’s the fun I have while dressing up.

When I’m done admiring Lei’s handiwork, I straighten my back and head for the main room of the palace; where the event is being held.

Outside my door, as I expected, are two of my most trusted bodyguards – who double as my governesses – to escort me; however, what I didn’t expect was for a women from Leadership waiting for me as well. I bow politely and she bows back.

“Your grace, I’ve come before you to inform you that your request has been received and approved.” She says with a relaxed expression and a small smile.

“That’s wonderful. Thank you for bringing me this information.” I reply, beyond jovial as a smile breaks out on my face.

“It was my pleasure, your majesty. Enjoy the rest of your evening.” She bows and leaves me with my escorts.

Overjoyed that I can now speak as I please, I hug both of them.

“Alani, Kaila, I never thought I’d see the day.” I express my extreme happiness with the information I just received.

“We’re happy for you, your highness.” Alani replies with a smile on her face.

“We’re glad your request went through successfully.” Kaila says as she pats my back.

I give them another squeeze before I straighten up, dust off my sari and clear my throat.

“C’mon ladies, we have a party to attend.”

As I walk forwards, Alani and Kaila follow suit. We make a beeline for the balcony area of the staircase and wait just behind the doorway for my cue to enter. I can already hear the noise of my guests and the party started but a few minutes ago.

- 15 minutes earlier –

“Halt.” A guard in front of the palace stops us.

“Names.” She demands and she looks at her scroll.

“Anakin Skywalker, Jedi Knight.” I say in a nonchalant tone and flash her my invitation. She looks at me, at the invitation and at her scroll. She nods and looks at Obi-Wan.

“Obi-Wan Kenobi, Jedi Master.” He says politely as he too shows his invitation. The guard nods and I proceed to make my way inside only to walk into her arm. I look up at her.

“Is there a problem?” I ask, eyebrow raised in hopes of getting some answers.

“You must change your attire before entering the Queen’s palace.” She responds. Before I could open my mouth to ask my question, a women that appears to be a handmaiden approaches us with clothing in hand. Then, it dawned on me.

“This would explain why we were measured last week.” Obi-Wan voiced my thoughts as he takes his suit and I take mine.

“You may change your clothing in the rooms to the left.” She states with an authoritative tone and resumes her duties as the guard; checking the next guests invitation.

Obi-Wan and I head over to a small shack.

“Doesn’t look like much.” I comment on the rough exterior of the ‘building’.

Obi-Wan chuckles, “Wait until you see inside.” I furrow my eyebrows in confusion and push the door open. My eyes widened at the sight before me. The outside is an injustice to the interior. It was magnificently structured and much larger on the inside. The small palace was completely empty except for four decently-sized ‘rooms’ in the middle of the structure.

“Never judge a book by its cover, Anakin; Leori technology isn’t anything to bat your eyes at.” He says condescendingly as he goes to change.

“Yes, master.” I reply as I walk over to the changing ‘room’. Can it even be called a room? All of the ‘walls’ are made of curtains.

I walk inside and shed the many layers of my Jedi robes along with my boots, belt and lightsaber.

“What do you know about this party, Anakin?” Obi-Wan asks from his changing ‘room’.

“The Queen of Roe’ Leor has thrown this party has an act of goodwill to celebrate the alliance between the Republic and Roe’ Leor.” I say, repeating the words of the Jedi Council from earlier that week.

I gingerly pull on the blue button-up and thin black jacket that accompanies it.

“Have you ever met her?” He asks.

“The Queen? No. I hear it’s a privilege to even hear her speak much less be in her presence.” I recall from one of the many briefings on Leori culture.

I slide on the black slacks as well as the black pointed shoes and clip my lightsaber to one of the belt loop of the pants. I walk out the same time Obi-Wan does.

I look at him and raise my eyebrow to accompany my smirk, “Don’t you clean up nicely, master.” I say in a joking manner. Obi-Wan is dressed in similar clothing, just with different colors. His button up is a light brown while his suit jacket, pants and shoes are all a darker shade of the same color; like his Jedi robes.

He rolls his eyes at my comment then makes his way out of the shack and over to the entrance. I walk behind him and we walk back over to the guard.

She looks us up and down, “Proceed.” She says after she recognizes us and deems our outfits acceptable.

We walk inside and look around. Music similar to what was playing in Hondo’s bar plays softly in the background as the people make conversation. I notice that some members of the Jedi Council, such as Mace Windu and Plo Koon have already arrived and have switched their usual attire for suits. The majority of the people in attendance are Leori; however I do spot the occasional Senator and Jedi.

“Did you know that Roe’ Leor is predominantly female and that’s why they have a Queen instead of a King?” Obi-Wan pipes up from beside me as he examines the room and takes a bite of food from his plate.

“I did not…” I trail off and instead of looking at their species, I look at their gender and notice he’s right. The majority of the Leori are women. The men only seem to be caterers and the occasional official.

A horn of some sort is blown from the balcony of the staircase. The attendees quiet down and move their attention to a small girl, no more than the age of a youngling.

“Please welcome her royal highness, Queen (L/N).” She says in a high-pitched voice as ‘Queen (L/N)’ emerges from the doorway on the left. She looks…magnificent. She’s younger than I expected her to be.

The yellow and red of her sari compliments her skin well. She strolls over to the balcony and stands between her two bodyguards elegantly. Applause erupts from the crowd. Both guards hold a hand out and the applause ceases.

“Good evening, people of Roe’ Leor and representatives of the Republic. As you all know, I’ve thrown this party to celebrate our newfound friendship with the Republic. I hope you enjoy your evening as well as make friends with our new partners.” She finishes and descends down the stairs. Thunderous applause erupts once more from the people in attendance.

“I thought the Queen wasn’t allowed to speak?” I ask Obi-Wan with confusion, never taking my eyes off of her.

“Must have been a recent change in their rules…” Obi-Wan mused, stroking his beard.

“Oh.” I respond simply as I take notice that the bodyguard’s leave Queen (L/N)’s side as she greets some politicians. She talks with them for a short amount of time before she scans the room and her eyes on land on me.

-

I bow as I finish my conversation with Senator Poli and Representative Jeeloy. I’ve made it my goal to introduce myself to every Republic attendee as to become familiar with one another and explain the new rule put into place by Leadership. I look around the large space and my eyes land on a rather handsome young man who already appears to be staring in my direction. I suppose I’ve found my next conversation.

I walk over to him and his eyes never leave me. A regular man would have already looked away in fear or insecurity; an interesting specimen indeed…

“Good evening gentlemen.” I say as I bow before the young man and his slightly older companion.

Now that I’m within a closer proximity, the young man is quite attractive for a Jedi. He has dirty blonde hair that falls in waves at his shoulders. His eyes are a blue so magnificent, I’ve only ever seen it in the majestic waves of our ocean. His skin is a flawless tan color and his lips look as plush as a pillow.

“My name is Anakin Skywalker, but you can call me Anakin, your highness.” The young man, Anakin, says as he bows. He grabs my hand and places a chaste kiss upon it. I can already feel my heart racing at his actions. He releases my hand, but he never takes his striking blue eyes off of me.

“Your majesty, Obi-Wan Kenobi.” The older man, Obi-Wan, also bows.

“May I say, both of your names are quite unique?” I comment on the names they’ve given me.

“Thank you, my lady. May I ask yours?” Anakin questions me.

“(Y/N) (L/N)…”

“(Y/N)…” He whispers under his breath.

“…but no one every addresses me as such as it is customary to address me as ‘Queen (L/N)’ or other terms of respect including ‘your grace’, ‘your highness’, ‘your majesty’, ‘my lady’ and so forth...” I finish, matter-of-factly.

“Of course, my lady.” Anakin says as the mischievousness of a thousand younglings cross his eyes.

“How are you enjoying the party so far, Mr. Kenobi?” I ask, shifting my attention to his friend as the look he’s giving me makes my heart beat a little too fast for my taste.

“Please, Obi-Wan, your majesty. We are partners, not strangers.” He corrects me.

I nod in return, “Of course, Obi-Wan.” He continues.

“I must say, you’ve thrown a lovely party.” He comments as he scans the crowd.

“Thank you; do you like the food?” I ask, looking at both Anakin and Obi-Wan this time, “I heard many of these foods are popular on Coruscant, the Republic capital...”

“The food is excellent, your grace. Nothing to worry about.” He says reassuringly with a small smile.

“Wonderful.” I reply, returning his smile. “Before I forget, if you’ve been briefed on our culture, you’ll know I’m not normally permitted to speak; however, a change in the rules have been made by both Leadership and myself.” I say, clearing up any confusion if there was any.

“Now, if you’ll excuse me…” I begin.

“Obi-Wan,” I say while nodding in his direction, “Anakin.” I look in his direction.

“I must acquaint myself with the other patrons.” I bow.

“Of course, your highness.” Obi-Wan replies.

“Don’t let us distract you from your royal duties.” Anakin comments with a smile. I smile back and start walking to find the next Jedi or Senator.

- 30 minutes later –

After half an hour of walking and talking, I think I need a break. I pull a chair from one of the many tables in the hall and take a seat. I take a deep breath and exhale.

I’ve already spoken with all of the members of the Jedi Council, 8 Jedi Knights and their padawans and 300 congressmen and women and that’s not even half.

The dancing will begin shortly, so I hope I get to rest my feet for just a few minutes…

Not too long into my relaxing, I hear two chairs being pulled out. I take a deep breath, straighten my posture and put on a smile. I look up to see Kaila and Alani slumped in their chairs. I break out into a real smile and relax my shoulders.

“Hello ladies, you guys look as exhausted as I am and it hasn’t even been an hour.” I joke.

Kaila laughs exhaustedly, “Do you know how many touchy Senators we’ve had to shoo away from the poor female attendees? That Orn Free Taa? Too touchy for my liking…” I laugh.

“The men of the Republic need etiquette.” Alani agrees with closed eyes.

“Perhaps not all of them…” I say quietly. At my addition, both Kaila and Alani open their eyes and straighten up excitedly, forgetting their exhaustion.

“Oh?” Kaila asks with a smirk. I now realize my addition was a mistake; not only are Alani and Kaila my caretakers, but they are also my best friends and unfortunately love gossip.

“Do tell of the well-mannered men you’ve encountered this evening.” Alani urges with her elbows on the table and her hands underneath her chin.

“Well…” I start, going through my evening so far, “Senator Organa and Senator Farr were very polite, unlike the Senators you’ve had to deal with.” I counter with triumph.

“I’ve also met multiple Jedi who were nothing but well-mannered and polite.”

“Like who?” Kaila pushed.

“Like-like Master Mace Windu.” I reply, “Master Yoda and Master Obi-Wan Kenobi…”

“…and Anakin Skywalker.” I finish off quiet, voice uneven. Just saying his name makes my voice waver. I’ve never met a man who’s had this kind of effect on me before…

“Anakin Skywalker…” Alani repeats, “If I remember correctly he came last week with Master Kenobi for his fitting…”

“A rather handsome young man…” Kaila repeats my words from earlier.

Suddenly, I hear the ringing of a single bell signifying the beginning of the first dance. I quickly stand up, “Excuse me!” I say quickly and loudly as I rush to the balcony. I’m not even out of earshot when I hear them giggling.

I take deep breaths to steady my heartrate while I climb the stairs. I reach the top and clear my throat and the audience quiets down.

“The ringing of the first bell indicates the first of two dances. For the first dance, Leori will dance with Leori and this is the same for the people of the Republic. This illustrates our situations before our alliance. For the second dance, it will be mixed. It is mandatory for a Leori to dance with someone of the Republic and vice-versa. This illustrates our situation after our alliance. You have 5 minutes to choose your partner if you wish to dance as the first dance is not mandatory.” I finish and descend the steps for the second time this evening.

I stop at the foot of the stairs and weigh my options. I could a) return to my table and get pestered about Anakin or b) women up and find a partner.

Before I decide what to do, a familiar voice cuts into my thoughts.

“It’s been a while, sis.” A male voice announces. I look to my right and see my older brother, (B/N), with his arms open.

A huge smile replaces my thoughtful look and I rush into his arms, “Brother! What are you doing here?” I ask excitedly and squeeze him.

He wheezes, “I could tell you if I could breathe.” He manages; I immediately release him, “Sometimes you don’t even recognize your own strength, (N/N).” He says using my childhood nickname as he rubs his sides.

“You forget, I married a Senator of the Republic after I refused the throne?” (B/N) reminds me; even though our planet is predominantly female, he is older and would have been next in line.

“Ah, yes. I was so busy with the preparation of the party. It slipped my mind…” I admit, “How have you been? Is the money I sent enough? Do you need more? If you do, I can-“

“(Y/N), calm down. I’m fine and the money you sent is enough; I don’t need anymore, trust me.” He reassures me, “We can catch up later; for now, may I have this dance…” He asks, extending his hand towards me. I raise my eyebrow at him.

“…your highness?” He adds. I smile, glad he hasn’t forgotten the ways of our people.

The horn sounds as the classical music played by the orchestra in the sound room begins to play over the speakers. The first dance has begun.

-

The music has started to play signifying the beginning of the first dance. I’ve decided to sit this one out as the only other person I really know, Padmé, already has a partner. I sit at a table and sip my flute of one of the lighter alcoholic beverages being severed; as a Jedi, I should always be on my toes.

I scan the crowd when my eyes land on the Queen, who appears to be dancing with a man at least half a foot taller then her. The man she’s dancing with is attractive, to say the least. He has elegant features and whatever he’s saying to her makes her laugh; a laugh most likely so scarce only a select group of people ever get to hear it.

What is he saying that’s so funny? I thought when I heard the shattering of my glass. I guess my jealously paired with my prosthesis isn’t necessarily a good mix. Luckily, my beverage only spilled into the plate below with few drops of it on the tablecloth. I disregard my drink and return my attention to the Queen. Her partner spins her and she seems to be having a great time. It’s hard to be jealous when she smiles like that…

My thoughts are cut off when the music stops. The two separate and they bow before the Queen ascends the stairs. She’s most likely announcing the second dance… I suppose that’s my cue; good thing I did my research...

-

“I hope you had a lovely time with your first partner; however, it is now time to choose your second. The second dance will begin shortly. You have 5 minutes to choose your next partner.” I announce and descend the stairs for, hopefully, the last time. I reach the foot of the stairs when a Senator approaches me.

“Would you like to dance, your majesty?” he asks.

“No thank you.” I respond politely. He nods and walks away. Another Senator walks up, one from Ryloth.

“Care to dance, your highness?” He asks with his hand extended in my direction.

“I’ll have to pass, Senator.” I reply. He looks at me and rolls his eyes as he walks away.

“Excuse me, my lady.” A voice intervenes; not a familiar voice, but one I’ve heard before. I turn around to be met with Anakin Skywalker.

“Anakin.” I say, hopefully.

He smiles at me, “May I have this dance…” He extends his hand to me, “…your highness?” I smile and rest my hand in is, “You may.”

The horn sounds again as another song plays over the speakers. Something along the lines of classical and tango; a rather interesting mix to describe the alliance between us.

“If I may, did you really know how to ask me to dance or was it luck?” I ask out of curiousity as he leads me to the dance floor. He grabs my hand with his right and places his left on my waist. He pulls me close and whispers in my ear, “I knew.” At this, my heartrate picks up once more.

He resume our dance at normal distance.

“Your grace, if I may, who were you dancing with earlier?” Anakin asks as we continue to glide across the floor.

“Oh, that was my brother, (B/N). Many think he’s given up his prince status, but he merely rejected king status and still remains crown prince of Roe’ Leor.” I inform him, thinking nothing of the question.

“I see. So, your majesty, are you aware of the dangers that come with being partnered with the Republic?”

“Yes. Since Roe’ Leor is no longer a neutral system, the Separatists will now target us given our change in position.”

“Have you increased your security?” He asks as he dips me.

“Tripled.” I respond as he lifts me back up.

“Has the Republic asked about outposts?

“Yes.”

“And your answer?”

“Anakin Skywalker, did you ask me to dance for business of for pleasure?” I ask, finally feeling more comfortable in his presence.

“Officially, business.” He responds as he spins me similar to how (B/N) spun me earlier.

“Unofficially?” I ask. He smiles at me and whispers in my ear with a sultriness that makes my heart melt, “Pleasure.” Then, as he dips me, the last note of the song is played.

He brings me back to a standing position.

“It was a pleasure dancing with you, Anakin Skywalker.” I say as I bow, still a little disoriented from his answer.

“Please,” he bows and grabs my hand similar to our first meeting, “the pleasure was mine.” and he kisses it.

“We’ll see more of each other in the future, your highness.” He gives me a jaunty salute then walks over to Obi-Wan.

Never in my life have I ever wanted a man so badly.

Little did I know, even though I made my comment internally, Anakin was still close enough to listen in on my thoughts and walked away with a smile on his face...

-

I leave the Queen to return to her queenly duties and walk over to Obi-Wan.

“You looked rather cozy dancing with the Queen.” He noted.

“Really? I didn’t notice…” I replied coyly.

“Let’s just hope that you haven’t ruined our friendship when it’s only just begun.” He states as he makes his way over to Master Yoda.

I smile and look back at the Queen and she’s talking to her bodyguards.

Farewell, your highness. Until our next meeting…

The Queen’s eyes widen and her attention is turned towards me. I smile at her and she smiles back.

Farewell, Anakin Skywalker. Until we meet again.

[miraculouscontent]

Askplosion #12 4/4:

(I would like to state for future reference that, while I do not mind long/multi-part asks, if you’d like to engage in actual discussion with me over a non-Miraculous topic, my DMs - Tumblr Messenger - should be open; I lost pieces of three multi-part asks this time just due to Tumblr not sending the remaining part(s) so yeah, I just wanted to make that clear)

(like, this askplosion ended up being super long because of this section and that’s not really what I want to have going on since I’m supposed to be a primarily Miraculous blog; I don’t want to have to stop answering non-Miraculous related asks but I might have to if this keeps up:)

.:New non-Miraculous Asks:.

Anonymous said:

What are your experiences with some really rude anons?

It’s partly my fault when it happens. Like I’ve said before, I’m an aspie, and part of what that means is I struggle to understand situations emotionally. I can come off as insensitive or read the mood wrong which often leads to people misunderstanding my intentions or where I’m coming from.

More often than not, what I’m saying will make 100% sense to me but not the person/people reading it. I also stick a lot more firmly to my opinions than I should because people tell me I fold too easily, and I come off as more egotistical than I actually am to cover up my low self-esteem lol.

So yeah, can’t think of any experience in particular but sometimes it might be my fault? At least I suspect that it is?

Anonymous said:

“Killed by kindness” makes me think of an assassin who kills people by giving hugs and compliments to people and the occasion gift that isn’t tampered until thre target does like Conrad Birdie making women swoon into fainting by singing.

omg

yes

Anonymous said:

You're watching Yashahime right now? rip

MARINETTE TAKE 2 MOROHA DESERVES BETTER

SETSUNA HAS SO LITTLE REASON TO HANG OUT WITH THE OTHER TWO GIRLS

IF I SEE ANOTHER DEUS EX TOWA I’M GONNA KICK SOMETHING

(so yes, I’m watching Yashahime)

Anonymous said:

Since someone recommended Remarried Empress, I would like to recommend my own webcomic: Princess Love-Pon! It's about a young girl named Lia Sagamore who becomes the titular magical girl and purifies people's hearts when they're tainted by the Dark Queen! It's really cool due to its diversity, the main character is black and her best friend is Afro-Latina, the villain and her prince son are also black, and there's a Japanese girl, a black guy, and an Indian girl. Plus, loads of pink and frills!

Thank you very much, though I actually don’t take recommendations, even from close friends. The Remarried Empress anon wasn’t a recommendation; they were more pointing something out to me and then I went to confirm.

Anonymous said:

Unrelated to MLB: Which Pokémon are your favourites?

I used a “Favorite Pokemon Picker” because I prefer going by generations to pick favorites and that was the easiest way of going about it. I struggle picking super favorites so here’s what I got form each generation! (my only rule was “one Pokemon per evolution line” with an exception of the Eevee line since they’re different types, and also Alolan/Galarian forms)

(note: the blue-patterned Vivillon is my favorite and I honestly don’t like Charizard normally but the Y version actually slims him down and gives him the wings I feel he should have; it’s an improvement of the design so it gets my seal of approval, I don’t like the X version at all)

(lol I was looking through this after I was done and find it really funny how it’s like, 50% cute things and then the other 50% is just EDGY, there’s very little in-between with me I guess)

Anonymous said:

Bridgerton the Series: Yay or nay? Sorry if you haven’t seen it or it’s not your thing. I was just curious.

Never seen it, though when I brought up to someone, they didn’t recommend it to me at all ahaha.

Anonymous said:

I previously kept having this argument about The Bechdel Test with someone. She keeps insisting that the test is invalid because there's nothing wrong with talking about men and that it was created for lesbians only, and not for feminists, with the implication that being a lesbian somehow means that you dislike men or want them gone. And she also thinks the test is about NEVER talking about men, rather than merely occasionally talking about other things. I keep telling her otherwise, but...

jdfhkgdfhjgdfg “lesbians only”

now all I can imagine is “lesbians only” sections at restaurants and such

Anonymous said:

Have you ever played Akinator, with or without the Miraculous Ladybug characters? Because I played it with Ochaco from MHA and Marinette and he guessed them within a second(can your character control gravity? Is your character a protagonist?). I even played it with myself as the "character" and he guessed "your shadow" lol. How about you?

I’ve played Akinator before but I don’t specifically remember what I was searching for lol.

Anonymous said:

The cast for the newest Power Rangers series got revealed, and I hate that as soon as I saw the Pink Ranger's bio mentioned she was an internet journalist, I thought of Alya. I really hope she doesn't have the same problems as Alya in the series proper.

fhgdfkgd journalists have been ruined for us forever

Anonymous said:

Have you noticed that in many shows, especially shonen shows, people tend to hate the most "feminine" female character? Like, in Naruto it was Sakura, in Death Note it was Misa, in My Hero Academia it was Ochaco(although a lot of people like her so I'm not so sure about that last one?). The most hated character in one too many a shonen is almost always the "girliest" of the characters. They're always claimed to be useless or reliant on a man. And this is within the fandom who should know better!

It probably didn’t help with Sakura that she was decked out in pink hair; that’s an instant girl label for you (or lesbian label, depends on the person :P).

I don’t think I’ve been in enough fandoms to have such an experience but I definitely see where you’re coming from.

Anonymous said:

Rewatching Chat Blanc and Here To Help from Star vs. and hearing Adrien/Marco tell Marinette/Star that they always liked the girls from the beginning makes me so pissed. It's not that I don't ship Starco(I do! But I also like MarcoxJanna), although I don't ship the love square, but I'm so annoyed with writers finding the need to make the audience "know" that the main ship's characters "always" liked each other, as if that makes their love for each other more true, even if it's obvious they had other crushes? Like, what happened to Kagami Tsurugi? Jackie-Lynn Thomas?

News flash: Teenagers are allowed to have crushes on multiple other people before they find "the One". It doesn't mean their love for that "One" is any less valid. And if you still want to pull the "they always liked each other since they first met", at least make it actually TRUE!!! Don't have them have crushes on other people before moving on to the "official" crush and be all like "Oh, by the way, I liked you from the start," when it's dead obvious they didn't. You're doing a disservice to the romantic "false" leads.

I'm willing to forgive Star's crush on Oskar and Tom since she's not the one claiming she always liked Marco(even though she fell in love with him LONG before he fell in love with her, which is a nice turn of events), although her "love" for Oskar was merely an infatuation at most and I personally don't see why it was needed. Why don't they just say that their old crush didn't do it for them???

UGH, I remember watching that show and being so annoyed because I really liked Marco and Jackie and wanted them to be a thing but I knew that they’d pull Starco in the end because of course they would.

It also totally makes it seem as if love is the most powerful relationship there is (aros would like a word), which is so bizarre when there are so many “power of friendship” tropes. Like, a male and female lead have to get together because their relationship is the strongest.

The love square would hold so much more meaning to me without this love drama nonsense. It’s tiring.

Anonymous said:

Have you seen Yuki Yuna Is a Hero? If so, then what are your thoughts on it? I was thinking of watching it but it seems to be another "taking away the empowerment of the magical girl genre by making the girls suffer instead" type story. I read about it on TV Tropes and apparently it's a deconstruction that takes after Madoka Magica which already puts a bad taste in my mouth, but then I got to the examples and they're basically about how girls who get magical powers lose their body parts one by one and that the reason only girls can be heroes is because "young girls have always been sacrifices".

Not to mention it was written by a man and aimed towards a seinen(adult men ages 17-35) demographic, making it torture porn for adult men. Also, both the laconic page for Yuki Yuna and Madoka Magica say "Being a magical girl sucks."(though for Yuki Yuna it adds "Unless you have the power of friendship.") and to be honest that kills any desire in me to watch the show. Should I give it a chance?

Oof.

Yeah, after bringing it up to a friend of mine, it was instantly recommended of me not to watch it, so I’d say, “no.”

Anonymous said:

Let's make one thing perfectly clear. I, love, love, LOVE Sailor Moon. And I love the transformations, too. But if there's one thing I don't love, it's that their outfits all look pretty much the same but with different colors/different lengths of gloves and shoes and stuff like that, and that they all have the exact same body type save for the one fat girl who's made to look bad. I don't like Madoka Magica, but at least they all had unique/different costumes(but they still have similar bodies).

We’re not allowed diversity here. Take your different body types to a show that cares; we’re all about femininity here and how girls can be beautiful and powerful no matter wha--oh wait...

Yeah, I don’t care for the design in Sailor Moon, but that’s because skirts don’t interest me design-wise unless it’s really unique/interesting.

(note that there’s a lot of talk about tomboys, sexism, and TV tropes and such below, and then Madoka Magica after that; that’s basically the rest of this askplosion:)

Anonymous said:

I just saw the thumbnail for a video called "Why You Should Watch Princess Tutu(Yes, I Know The Name Is Stupid)". Umm, why is it stupid exactly? Because it's "girly"? What is with people thinking that in order for a girly show to be good they have to first separate the show from its girliness in order to enjoy it? It's like how men will say a show is good despite it being girly, or that since it's good it's no longer girly. Nobody does this for boy shows, because boy things are "never" stupid.

Princess = girly thing

Tutu = girly thing

girly things = bad

That’s the formula~ They should’ve called it something edgier and manly so that more people would be interested.

Anonymous said:

I'm wary of any woman or girl who says, "I'm a girl, but I'd rather read books about guys" or "I'm a female writer but I mostly write stories about male characters". I feel like those women are the "not like other girls/one of the guys" type who suffer from internalized misogyny and don't like female characters. I also feel like they're the type to not care about female representation, because in their minds, girls shouldn't care about female role models. We can enjoy males just as much! I do!

To be fair, they might also just be writing about shirtless men doing “handsome” things. ;P

But nah, I see your point. Me personally, I try to find a balance of writing both, but I do think there can be bias.

Anonymous said:

Do you think it's okay to like a ship but acknowledge that it wouldn't be safe or healthy or condonable in real life? Because I was just thinking of how a lot of people like some really "toxic" ships like Veronica/JD in Heathers, Yuno/Yukki in Future Diary, Madoka/Homura in Madoka Magica(although some people don't like it because of its toxicity/like it but don't realize it's toxic), almost any villain/hero ship, the list goes on. But they're aware of the fact that it's not a good standard for healthy relationships in real life.

An alternative I've seen is people having a crush on "dangerous" characters like JD and Yuno, or Karma from Assassination Classroom(there's not a single video on YouTube with him in it that DOESN'T have comments full of people saying they want Karma to father their children), but still being aware of the fact that the character is a) not real and b) wouldn't be a good partner if they were real(and that's assuming they even want to be with you. But sometimes there's a good reason for falling in love with a "toxic/dangerous" character.

Take Monika from Doki Doki Literature Club! She's obsessed with the player(not the player CHARACTER, the flesh and blood player themselves) to the point of killing off all the other girls and "trapping" you in a room with her where she talks endlessly about lots of things. But she's actually a lonely girl who's driven insane by the fact that nothing around her is real. She latches on to you because you're the only other person who's real and sapient and has got a mind of their own. You're literally her outlet to the outside world.

She's personally my favorite character in the game due to her actually being a more fleshed out, sympathetic(and not in the idealized "moemoe" way), and realistic take on the Yandere archetype(which, like many moe archetypes, is kinda misogynistic in nature in that it reinforces submissiveness; it's basically animes version of "woman scorned".). So it makes sense that people would sympathize with her and want her to become real, because all she's ever wanted was to be real and to talk to real people. Especially since she really did care about her friends and even returned them back to life because she saved their backup files, taking herself out of the picture.

I read a few "Monika becomes real and lives with you" fanfictions where she's really sweet and not at all crazy and cares for you a lot, and it's never felt the same as all those other "Yandere/psycho lives with you and is your girl/boyfriend" type stories precisely because those stories tend to just glorify possessive partners that kill your loved ones, drive your family members to commit suicide, and tear up your stuffed animals and dollies for the sake of it, rather than go into why they're so crazy for you, and often reinforce Stockholm Syndrome.

Plus, those "things" she talks about in the empty room? They're actually quite smart and make you think about the world for a bit. Not many "crazy" type characters actually get that. They're all about how "I'll slice your boyfriend open with an axe if you don't date me wa ha ha", and even if they're not, it's all the fandom will focus on, to the point of ignoring any and all other aspects to their character. Because that "crazy in love" aspect is the most appealing part of them. Maybe it's due to forbidden fruit/bad boy(or girl) appeal? Who knows? But I'm starting to wonder if it's still as bad if people recognize the problematic aspects of "crazy in love" characters or "dysfunctional" relationships.

Because if they recognize it's not real and don't really want it for themselves, then it's probably not much of a problem. But if they just go on wanting it to be real and never take a step back and go "wait a minute, this isn't real love; they're only together because he latches onto the first girl to show him any kindness and affection and she's a doormat who doesn't want something bad to happen if she leaves him", then that's bad.

Obviously it's not as bad as being in love with literal stalkers, killers, and rapists in real life(which is an actual thing, believe it or not, it's called hybristophilia), because fictional characters will never be real. Karma Akabane will never be real. Yuno Gasai will never be real. JD will never be real. But loving fictional characters who do those things and not realizing the problem with it may cause people to seek out real criminals, so it's best to separate fiction from reality.

I can’t help judging a little internally, but yeah, I think people can ship whatever as long as it has that “not in real life” scenario going for it. It’s ultimately fiction, so just because I don’t like it and/or think that it’s bad doesn’t mean other people can’t ship it.

Anonymous said:

I'm getting tired of all the racists on TV Tropes getting upset whenever a trope has a Japanese name. Whether it's Tsundere, Yandere, Meganekko, Genki Girl, Bokukko, or any Japanese anime name, people will complain that the trope exists beyond anime so it shouldn't have a "cute anime name", and that it should instead just be given a broader(read: English) name with the same meaning. Or that the site is too obsessed with anime. I'm just sick of people saying that anime names are bad.

The other thing is that we don’t actually have English words for certain things? I mean, the whole reason we say, “tsundere,” is because it says everything in one word. It’s easy.

(Also, people are aware the the English language isn’t some unique thing that takes no inspiration from other languages, right? It’s a mix of things, so accept that other languages exist because we literally wouldn’t have English without them.)

Anonymous said:

Have you seen the TV Tropes reviews for "My Little Pony: Friendship Is Magic"? Holy crap, they are all a perfect example of the "Real Women Don't Wear Dresses" phenomenon that I have mentioned earlier and is so fucking present on this site. While some reviews praise the show for showing that "it's okay to be strong AND girly"(such as Hadles' review, which was really splendid), and that girl shows are no less good, others either insult the show by calling it "girly, saccharine, and stupid" as if "girly" is synonymous with anything bad about a show, or feel the need to distance it from its girliness in order to praise it as if a show can't be good if it's also girly.

Some people were saying things like "the show might seem girly at first, but it's actually a good, brilliant show with intricate plot twists, well-developed characters, and even some scary moments" and "the characters aren't just shallow girly-girls, they have depth!" So what, girliness is mutually exclusive to anything of value? One person even said that the Girl-Show Ghetto was the reason they couldn't get into the show or respect it. Just...wow.

And one review even said "Rarity's pretty tough for a girly girl!" Excuse me? Tough FOR a girly girl? So being a girly girl somehow automatically disqualifies you from being tough? Like "yeah, she's tough despite being a girly girl! Because girly girls aren't supposed to be tough."

It reminds me of the phrase "you're pretty for a black girl", which, while it's never been said to ME, I have heard other people complain about. It's sick and it hurts, just like this. And the few people who didn't say things like that still said that they couldn't get into the show at first because it looked "girly and vapid", before changing their minds and thinking that the show either proved their biases about girly shows wrong, no longer think it's girly since girly shows "can't" be good, or like it "despite" it's girliness.

And there were 70 reviews in all. 70 reviews full of this misogynistic "girly is bad" shit. So in conclusion nearly all the reviews on TV Tropes for My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic were along the lines of one of three things. 1) "This show is girly so I looked past it because girly shows are dumb." 2) "This show is good despite being girly/the characters are good despite being girly." and 3) "This show is not girly to me at all because it is well-written and captivating and girly shows aren't capable of such things."

Granted, some people there were able and willing to call out those who judged the show badly for being girly(or gave it the "not like other girls" treatment, but in show form), as well as people warning other potential viewers to get rid of any potential bias they may have against it due to it being girly. But there were still more people insulting its girliness as a reason they think it sucks or denying its girliness to justify their liking of it than the other way around.

I would've accepted it in the form of "If you think this show is bad because of its inherent girliness, then you are wrong!" or "This show is proof that a show being girly or aimed at girls doesn't and shouldn't take away from its value, as people seem to believe." or "A girl can be girly and be a strong female character.", but no, instead I got shit like this. It's especially insulting when TV Tropes is a site that devotes itself in part to critiquing sexist tropes found in media, only to turn right around and reinforce them.

I don’t read TV Tropes that frequently, so I fortunately missed out on all of these complete idiots who associate girly products with being bad.

(that “pretty for a black girl” comment makes me hate all aspects of “expectations of beauty” and it’s like--plz let these die)

I could maybe see an argument for criticizing a girls show for being “saccharine” if it were like, “girls’ shows written by men who clearly don’t know how to write girls are usually bad,” because then it’s not a criticism of girls’ shows exactly but rather who keeps being put in charge of writing them.

Anonymous said:

I get so annoyed when people get upset when confronted with the matter of female representation with "what's so wrong with one show having a male protagonist or mostly men and one/a few women? Why do we have to include women in everything?" These people clearly do not understand that one show doing it is one thing, but when multiple shows do it, it's an obvious problem. It's even worse when they turn around and diss shows with largely female casts for "not having enough men".

And as for people getting upset that "every show has to include women/come with a checkbox nowadays", as if it's bad to include women in your story...look around. Women make up 50% of the population. They're literally everywhere. What reason do you have to not include a substantial amount of women?

These people act like male is the default and women are a last resort. They see no problem with men dominating a cast because it's justified(despite that not reflecting real life), and yet having female characters, or, hell, a female-dominated cast(I know they also don't reflect real life, but there are still female-dominated spaces; most colleges are 2/3 female) is "unrealistic" trying to fulfill a quota, or a straw feminist agenda, as if characters can't be female for their own sake. You shouldn't have to be forced include women because their presence should be a given.

How many stories nowadays take place in the war front in Viking times or whatever? A lot of men just don't want to include female characters or see them represented(well) in media because those who are overrepresented tend to want to stay that way. They likely also have insecurities about their masculinity and are worried about female characters flooding their shows with estrogen and ruining the shows they love, because they can't relate to female characters or enjoy shows about them without negating their girliness(ie. This show seems girly, but it's actually good), since they're ashamed to associate themselves with anything feminine due to looking down on women or seeing them as bad.

Plus they want to be the center of everything so the second a show is about mostly women they get upset and claim it's "sexist against men" because it's not about them. Hence why bronies(bless their souls) are made fun of for the grave sin of enjoying a female-centric show with a female protagonist and largely female characters. Granted, there are some freaky fans, but there's still some sexism at play here.

This reminds me of a post I saw about a boy who actually looked up to female characters because you can pick a role model who doesn’t fit your gender. Crazy concept, I know. ;P

And yeah, that’s how it goes with equality. People who are best/most represented don’t want equality because they think it means less for them and they don’t want that, like a child who doesn’t want to share their cookies with everyone else.

Anonymous said:

I love TV Tropes, but if there's one problem I have with it, it's how often it associates femininity with weakness. The "Masculine Girl, Feminine Boy" trope is a good example of this, but the worst offender in my opinion is the Girly Girl With a Tomboy Streak, as most of the examples there are simply of girls who are strong-willed or fierce or can fight. Because you know, those traits are male. It's bad because there are ALREADY tropes for girly girls who can fight, Girly Bruiser and Lady of War (which TV Tropes even goes out of its way to SAY shouldn't be counted as a "Tomboy Streak" and yet does stuff like this), but it's also bad because ANY girly girl with these qualities, no matter how feminine they are otherwise, will be seen by TV Tropes as having to be at least somewhat tomboyish(read: masculine) in order to have those traits. Because regular girly girls are just weak and fragile and only want to be housewives.

It's even worse when you realize that much of these characters are created with the exact purpose of subverting the stereotype that girliness equals weak, and instead present a new and more empowering form of femininity: that femininity is strong and DOES NOT equal being a passive sex tool for men's pleasure. They're MEANT to show that being a tomboy is not the only way to be strong, and TV Tropes acknowledges that! But then they also go and claim these characters have "Tomboy Streaks" thus undermining the positive message by insinuating that you have to be tomboyish to be strong and that even girly girls have to have some level of masculinity to be deemed respectable and equal human beings, plus manipulating many impressionable folks into thinking strength and bravery is automatically tomboyish.

Worse yet, they often put a character here because "she's a big eater" or "she burps/farts a lot". Gee, I didn't know women had bodily functions? I didn't know women had digestive systems? So basically any time a girl shows that she is a human being and not a pretty, passive doll to be idealized, she is acting like a man. Because only men are fully-fledged human beings. Even outside of that, look at basically any masculinity-femininity contrast trope(Tomboy and Girly Girl, Sensitive Guy and Manly Man, Masculine Girl Feminine Boy, etc.). The "masculine" character will often be described as dominant, assertive, or outspoken, and the "feminine" character will often be called weak-willed, passive, emotional, and timid. It's fucking sickening.

The Tomboy With A Girly Streak trope is similar to its inverse in that a tomboyish girl will often be placed under this trope with their proclaimed "girly" streak being that she's tender or cries a lot or is soft spoken/a doormat. Because being girly is about not taking up too much space, not having any ambition or aspiration, and overall being a weak and shallow waste of space. For a site that claims to dismantle such sexist misconceptions, it sure does reinforce them just as much.

I almost want to stop using TV Tropes based on that and many other reasons, but it's a genuinely informative site that at least tries to avoid these stereotypes(plus it's edited by more than one person), it just doesn't do enough. For example, they made an awkward claim once that women can't fight while on their periods, and even have an Improbably Female Cast trope, as if it's abnormal that a cast could consist of mostly women and demands an explanation. To them, femininity=inferior.

And then in comes the “anti-girl tomboy” characters who basically do everything “girls don’t do;” glares at things like make-up and such, rolls eyes at the subject of “girl talk” or “romance,” drinks anything carbonated and spreads their legs wide open, etcetera.

Guys really don’t get the same version, at least not that I’m aware of? Like, at best, they don’t participate in “guy things” but that’s about it.

Having characters acknowledge it just makes everything more blatant, like if a woman comes by and the guys have to assure “DON’T WORRY, SHE’S LIKE ONE OF THE GUYS.”

It’s like a woman can only hang out and engage in “guy talk/time” (the concept of which I hate but that’s besides the point) if they can crush a beer can against their forehead.

Anonymous said:

OMG TV Tropes called Cirno the Ice Fairy from Touhou a "tomboy"? Why? Because she's boisterous and outspoken and not a "shy girly-girl" like Daiyousei! TV Tropes clearly believes that any girl or woman who is more than just a pretty face(which ALL women are, by the way), who takes up space, who has a dynamic personality and isn't just a weeping wallflower(which I'm not saying Daiyousei is) is a tomboy. Because she's acting like a man that way. Ugh, so over TV Tropes and their sexism.

And all the girls in Touhou(including Cirno) wear big frilly dresses anyway so it doesn't really make sense to see ANY of them as tomboys. But no, apparently any girl who is rowdy or tough or is active and not passive is a tomboy. You gotta be a tomboy to have attitude. You can tell they think so because they often say things like "strong, but still feminine" as if those things are opposites. They even described femininity as "weak and susceptible, vain and superficial". Like, ugh, kill me now.

I legitimately want to see a bullet point list here of what qualifies as a “tomboy.” Like, what, anyone who does one thing that isn’t “girly”?

Can we just throw out all of these terms; not even replace them, just throw them out?

(the below ask is incomplete - the first part is missing - but the asker clarified after I asked them, so clarification is below:)

Anonymous said:

Tropes is because I'm working on a story and I hope when it becomes famous that TV Tropes will write about it, but as it stands, I'm beginning to wonder that TV Tropes undermines most stories or plots to do with women one way or another. I mean, they constantly create tropes with the intent of calling out inherent biases, yet reinforce those biases themselves.

For example, they have a trope called Men Are Generic, Women Are Special, which points out the bias of male being the default, and yet on almost every other page on the wiki describing a trope, the default character will be a "he"(especially if it's a character trope), and whenever they mention "The Hero" or "The Big Bad" it's always a he unless it needs to be female(like if the heroine is in a romance story, or if the villain is a seductress). Female characters at best, can hope to be "The Heart" or "The Chick" of the group(which is often used in a demeaning way).

They even have a trope called "Improbably Female Cast" in which they point out all the instances of a story's setting having an "over-abundance" of women or girls with no men in sight, and claim that such stories have majority female characters when it is "unusual" "unlikely" or "lacks justification". Someone even suggested that the trope should be called "Where Are All The Men?" as if there's something inherently weird or wrong when a story is dominated by female characters, and like the story is in dire need of men, as if only men can be protagonists.

Even if the story has a justifiable reason for having mostly women, the fact that the writer made that choice at all is somehow deserving of mention. The mere fact that there's no "Improbably Male Cast" trope shows where the site's biases lay. They don't see anything wrong with a show being dominated by men with little to no female representation(ex. Death Note), and yet a show dominated by women(ex. MLPFIM) is somehow an anomaly and demands an explanation(even if the story does provide a reason for it, TV Tropes will still list it and presume it "improbable", as if to say "I mean, yeah, but there's no reason why you couldn't just make them mEn instead", as if writers who have mostly female characters are going out of their way to steer away from the "default" males.

In fact, they even admit that "Men Are Generic, Women Are Special" is their reason for having such a trope, but not the inverse. They even say that it's not the trope if the show revolves around a group of girlfriends with no indication of the gender ratio in the wider setting. So any time the females outnumber the males a story it's instantly labeled "improbable" because there's NO WAY any setting AT ALL could have more females than males. That's improbable! You see, this is why when women are 1/3 of the people in a given space men perceive it as "majority female" because they're uncomfortable with women having more of a presence than men.

We'll never have true equality if shows with majority female casts continue to be scrutinized under a microscope and assumed to be of inferior, lesser quality, just because there's no male characters around and it's women who are driving the plot. My problem isn't that they have a trope for majority female casts, it COULD be a testament to gender equality(ie., "there used to not be a lot of shows revolving around women, but now they're becoming increasingly common and well-known), but it's that they single out such stories as "unlikely" and thus discredit them.

And worse yet, they refuse to change the name, because they don't see a problem with it. So now every single show that doesn't have an equal number of males and females or more males than females is going to be called "improbable" by TV Tropes, because there's something(bad) to be said about shows that choose to make most of their characters women. Death Note and Naruto can slide by the radar of having loads of men, but Madoka Magica and Touhou are "improbable"? Because they have loads of women?

the clarification:

Anonymous said:

I started out complaining about how TV Tropes says that boys will watch Star Vs. The Forces of Evil only because of Marco(who's great, but it comes off like boys can only relate to boy characters) and that the show only looks girly but has a deep complex plot with scary moments(as if a show can't be dark and complex and still be girly; girly=shallow, watered down fluff), hence my complaint about TV Tropes undermining girly shows or anything "girly".

Yup, exactly like I said.

Good stuff in “girly” things is the exception. Good stuff in “manly” things is expected.

Which is funny when you consider stuff like “edgy” reboots of things. Like, Disney remakes their original movies and that usually means making them worse (like in Beauty and the Beast - god I hate that remake - where the objects are going to become complete objects when the last petal falls even though the enchantress is explicitly a good person and it comes off as super cruel and unnecessary), but that seems to just be its own breed of bad I guess.

Then there are terms like “chick flicks” and “soap operas” which are usually women-oriented and tend to be considered dumb/over-dramatic.

You know, not like MEN shows with their sexualization of women, guns and MEN things.

Anonymous said:

Remember what I said about TV Tropes being sexist? Well, they also have a trope called "Girly Run". Like, that's literally the name. Girly. Run. Thankfully the first example(which is under advertising due to the forms of media being in alphabetical order) is an aversion from the blessed Like A Girl campaign, but...just reading the page lets the casual-yet-bold-faced sexism speak for itself.

why can’t things just be like the Sims where characters can wear whatever the hell they want and have any personality without any judgment or criticism from other Sims?

(more Madoka Magica talk - and ONLY Madoka Magica talk - below because I’ve unleashed a monster apparently:)

Anonymous said:

I know you don't like Frozen but I saw a theory somewhere that Elsa's powers came from making a contract with Kyubey and her wish was to impress her sister and anyway I can't stop rolling my eyes. This isn't(just) because of my distaste for Madoka Magica compared to my love for Frozen, but if Elsa's a Puella Magi then why didn't she become a witch long ago? How did she make it to adulthood? How did she become emotionally stable? And why do her powers have to come from a negative source?

I think it might just be people looking for excuses to do their crossover fanfiction which--yeah, I’m not crazy about that.

Anonymous said:

Did you know that Cristina Vee voiced Homura Akemi in the English Dub? It's very noticeable, especially during the Cake Song, where I could've sworn she sounds exactly like Marinette. By the way, I'm still not sure what the hell was going on in that song. Could you please explain it to me(if you know)?

Nooooo don’t make me think of Homura when I think of Marinette!! fjkdgjnfdg

lol but seriously, I think the Cake Song is just meant to be one of those “weird but meant to be dEeP” things that shows do sometimes to be cool (not a criticism technically; depends on how it’s used).

I think the cake is the labyrinth and Homura saying that she’s the pumpkin makes her the odd one out since pumpkins are associated with scares and halloween, so it’s “foreshadowing” her being the witch. The things that they say they are... they’re like--ingredients for a meal, but not a cake, so the the cake is the labyrinth and they’re the things that would go inside it.

Homura and Madoka are the only ones who really get descriptions to go with them. Homura says that she’s “full of seeds” (despair?) and Madoka implies that it’ll bring sweet dreams once she’s sliced (which is either referring to the godly freedom given to magical girls before they turn into witches, or foreshadowing Madoka being “split” after Homura stops Madoka from purifying her, leading to Homura’s “sweet dream” of what it’s like when everything is “normal” after her reality twisting).

Anonymous said:

May I ask what you don't like about Kyoko's character? Is it because she was the stereotypical "jerk with a heart of gold"? Or because the writer made her flip from hating Sayaka and wanting her dead to suddenly dying for Sayaka even though she barely knows her compared to Madoka(because the writer doesn't understand how girls' relationships work)? For me it was a mixture of both(though I still don't mind KyoSaya!), but I still liked her enough, she just felt a tad stereotypical. Your thoughts?

It’s both. I just don’t like characters like her at all and the runtime of Madoka Magica can’t maintain all of these characters, “developing” them, and then killing them off. I don’t even have any time to get attached to them because they’re dead within a matter of a few episodes.

And it’s always like, “okay here’s this character’s backstory to make you feel emotionally attached--HA NOW THEY’RE DEAD. SEE??? WE TOTALLY GOT YOU.”

Like, no, you didn’t. I didn’t even have time to care about THEM, much less their actual death.

Anonymous said:

What about the girls in Madoka Magica? Do you think they're strong female characters? Now, obviously the show is not feminist, since it misses the whole point of Magical Girl, which is to empower girls and show them that girls can be powerful and feminine and can find strength in solidarity with each other by instead making them suffer and fight each other and have their power come from their emotions, which are exploited and turned against them because women can't be powerful, but still...

It’s the same way I feel about Marinette; there are some who I want to say are strong characters, but the writing is ready to just kill them off at any time and bully them for essentially having emotions.

Basically, imagine a male writer hands you a character sheet and is like, “AW YEAH CHECK OUT THIS sTrOng FEMALE CHARACTER I WROTE.”

Like, even if they were right, their ego and obnoxiousness about the whole thing, along with what they actually do to said character, makes you not want to give them any credit for it.

Anonymous said:

How do you think Puella Magi Madoka Magica would be different if they had magical boys as well(which can mean either gender-bending canon magical girls or introducing original magical boys)? Do you think the show would be better? Worse? Or would it be just about the same?

Personally I feel like having magical boys would be good and bad; good because there would be no more of the “teenage girls are hysterical” crap and it wouldn’t just be girls suffering because they can’t handle power, and bad because it would still be problematic(for stereotyping all teens as over emotional and deserving to be taken advantage of by the Incubators, and it would still be about kids suffering in a genre meant to empower girls, having some of them be boys wouldn’t help that much).

I also feel like Gen Urobuchi would still make the girls suffer more and have them be more emotionally and mentally unstable. Holy crap it feels like he read up on Aristotle’s views on women while making this show.

It would at least be more balanced I guess? Like, teenage years are a fragile time, so it would make sense for both girls and boys to be taken advantage of. I still wouldn’t like it but it would be nice to point out, “there are emotional boys as well as emotional girls.”

Anonymous said:

Literally all the problems with Treatment of Marinette, Chat's Entitlement(TM), and the sheer sexism in general(ex. all the teenage girls and even women villains being catty and bitchy, while the male villains are cool, suave, and calculating; female villains being irredeemable scum while male villains are "not as bad as they seem", etc.) could all be solved if the show just got some more female writers! You know a show isn't feminist like people claim if none of the writers are women.

That's what I love about Friendship is Magic; the show is written and directed by a woman and actually has a variety of both male and female writers! Plus, Lauren Faust explicitly identifies as a feminist and claims her works are meant to empower women and show them that there's no wrong way to be a girl. And the show reflects that! There's no "token girl" who checks all the boxes; the females have realistic flaws, diverse personalities, and let's not forget ARE THE HEROES!!! Not to mention that the cast is actually PREDOMINANTLY FEMALE. Do people have any idea how refreshing that is?!

And that's why whenever people claim that shows like Madoka Magica are feminist when it's written by men for men while also dismissing actually feminist shows written by women for women as "sexist" or "demeaning", I cringe inside. It's not just what the show looks like, it's what the people behind it say.

And Gen Urobuchi is not a feminist. At all. Just listen to the things he says about the girls, that they're terrorists who are full of hubris and destined to be alone, and that actual magical girl shows weren't his inspiration beyond the show's cosmetics, he just based it off of porn games. He only watched those shows after making Madoka Magica and admitted they were weird to him. Well, maybe they wouldn't be weird if you actually used them as inspiration! Why are you even making magical girl? So basically he admitted that all the suffering the girls go through is because it's his fetish.

I knew I wasn't imagining things when I saw all those weird shots and angles(ex. zooming in on Sayaka's thighs and breasts when she collapses to the floor, Madoka gripping the bed sheets between her legs when agitated, zooming in on Kyoko's ass when she takes her phone out of her shorts' back pocket, it's all for cheap titillation). And yet people keep saying the show is devoid of male gaze and sexism and why? Because apparently men know how to represent women better than women themselves.

you said “Madoka gripping the bed sheets between her thighs” and it gave me an immediate flashback, I hate it

I find that it’s a similar thing with gay anime/manga; I’m more likely to trust a F/F story if it’s written by a woman since they’re less likely to sexualize everything.

Anonymous said:

Homura in Puella Magi Madoka Magica: But Madoka, what's going to happen to you? You'll end up all alone here forever! You'll never be able to see your friends and family! Homura in Rebellion: Haha, screw Madoka's friends and family! Only I am worthy of Madoka's love! That girl belongs to me! MWAHAHAHAHA!!!!!!!!(I'm sorry for the over exaggeration, but this is how it felt for me.)

Apparently, it was better for Madoka to just have all of her memories and powers yoinked away.

Sayaka is Madoka’s right hand girl so idk why Homura has this idea that she needs to sAvE Madoka. The fact that this whole thing comes out of a misunderstanding (because Madoka doesn’t have her memories) is so irritating.

Anonymous said:

I actually love Madoka Magica, but I completely agree with you on the hysterical women thing. Why couldn’t they just have... both magical girls and magical boys? Like, just mention that magical boys are a thing? They don’t even have to change anything but that, they don’t even really have to show it, just be like “yeah there’s magical boys too but that’s not really what this story is about, it’s about our characters we have here”. I don’t know, feels like that would have at least helped stuff.

Yeah, they don’t have to bother having the magical boys around. Just to know they exist would be enough. I mean, the fact that the focus is on them would still be bothersome (they’d probably do a thing where each girl represents a different emotion that is easily manipulated/easy to control), but it’d be something.

Anonymous said:

One thing that weirds me out when people are talking about Madoka Magica is when people refer to the characters as "little girls". Like, excuse me? They are not "little girls". They are teenagers! All of them are at least 14 years old! I hate when people call them "little", it's just so condescending and infantilizing, especially when the show does enough of that to them already. After all, no one makes that mistake with the heroines of Lucky Star and Hidamari Sketch(who are also drawn by Aoki)!

I feel like it’s the equivalent of when people call women “girls,” y’know? Sort of a “treating females as younger than they really are,” which is probably what gives guys the feeling that they have control.

For a gender that claims to be so dominant, certain ones sure have to delude themselves a lot to make themselves feel better.

Anonymous said:

I was thinking about what you said about Puella Magi Madoka Magica passing the Bechdel Test, and if it counts if there's barely any men to talk about. And while I do agree that it counts, I also feel that it doesn't really matter much in shows such as Madoka. This isn't even about feminism, this is about the fact that if a show has next to no men in it at all then it's pretty much a given that they won't talk about them since it would be impractical to talk about something that doesn't exist.

So because of that, I think there should either be an alternative test which only applies to shows that have a significant or equal number of male characters and yet the ladies still pass the test(making it feel more "real" since the option to talk about men is there), or the test should be rewritten entirely so that it only applies to shows in which the cast is either equally gender-split, or has a majority male cast/significant amount of males even if the females still outnumber them.

Reminds me of how, on TV Tropes, someone suggested that there should be a "Weak" and "Strong" Bechdel Test, where "Weak" refers to the women talking about something other than men because it is literally what's relevant at the moment(such as two female police officers discussing how to catch a female killer), thus applying the Bechdel Test there seems semi-void, while "Strong" is when they could talk about men but choose not to(ie. two female students talking about their grades during lunch).

And just to clarify about the "Strong" one, when I say they could talk about men but choose not to, this isn't to imply that female characters should talk about men, or that something's wrong with them for not talking about men, just that there's nothing stopping them from doing so, but they choose to talk about something unrelated to men. I think this strategy is much better than the test we have because it makes conversations between female characters seem more real since they're discussing things other than men of their own volition, rather than the non-male-centered talk being because they have to talk about it in-universe. I say that because The Bechdel Test serves to show that women's lives don't and shouldn't revolve around men, and they can talk about other things if they want to, but if the conversation is because they have to(like the example I gave), that gives sexists the opportunity to go "Yeah, well, they're only talking about it because it's their job!"

But if the female characters talk about things other than men of their own free will(as in, when the option is still there), then it shows that women really do have their own free will to talk about their own things and that there is NO REASON to not pass the Bechdel Test in today's day and age(I keep hearing people claim the test is stupid and doesn't matter, but then it should be easy to pass). "Oh, but if they had the choice, they would talk about men." No, because men don't sit around and talk about the women in their lives all day so why should women talk about the men in their lives all day? And to the people saying these types of tests are getting in the way of their "creativity", well, now that we know that you think female representation is stupid and something you have to be forced to do, we don't have to listen to a word you say. ;)

I like the idea of adjusting the Bechdel Test for other circumstances and expanding it as such!

You could also extend it to things like sexualization, because--I mean, having two female characters who talk to each other probably doesn’t mean much if they’re half-dressed or the writer wanted to make them bisexual for “The Fanservice.”

Anonymous said:

To be honest deconstructions of Magical Girl confuse me. There are some good ones out there(such as Princess Tutu and Revolutionary Girl Utena, so I know they're not all just torture porn, my only gripe with Utena is the implication that girls who take on the feminine "Princess" role are weak), but at its heart Magical Girl has always dealt with death, gore and pain just as much as female empowerment.

It makes me feel like the people who write these stories haven't seen magical girl and think it's all just sunshine and rainbows and that just because it's "girly" it's vapid and has no substance, and since the only way to have substance apparently is to be "dark", they go "screw it with all this princessy magical shit! Let's make our show dark instead!" When in reality if they had just sat down and watched a magical girl anime, they would understand that this is not the case.

Not to mention that many of them tend to have fanservice and the idea that magical girls have to suffer, so instead of empowering young girls, they end up misrepresenting the genre and turning it into fetish fuel torture porn for adult men(Madoka Magica and Yuki Yuna are very good examples of this; the writer of Madoka says that the girls are terrorists and full of hubris and that he was inspired by porn games). It's not that you can't deconstruct the genre at all, but it's almost never done tastefully and the magical girl themes are just a cover used to explain the suffering the girls go through. :(

Another thing about magical girl deconstructions is that they often reinforce patriarchal themes, like that girls shouldn't want things for themselves and that genuinely doing something for someone while also having ulterior motives that help yourself are a BAD BAD BAD thing, no matter how ultimately harmless they are, even if they help everybody involved. They also tend to reinforce Tall Poppy Syndrome and portray the powers as harmful or a bad thing, implying that girls shouldn't have power.

Honestly, I think there can totally be even more substance in magical girl anime that doesn’t have to resort to “make it eDgY” (which I feel like is a slippery slope that can easily come off as lazy); for example, I’d really enjoy seeing something deeper to magical girl powers than something like, “oh, this magical girl happens to have the power that fits their personality,” such as a magical girl who has a power she feels she doesn’t fit but it’s a matter of perspective/seeing herself differently, or a magical girl who does have the powers that “fit” her personality - like a “fiery” girl with fire powers - and the weaknesses in her powers correlate to the weaknesses in her personality, so she has to either iron out those issues or find workarounds, as true “perfection” isn’t possible nor practical, which is something all the girls have to accept despite whatever pressure they’re under.

.I dunno, I like lore and powers revolving around metaphors. It’s fun.

Anonymous said:

About what you said in regards to "no pueri magi because it doesn't hit the shock value threshold enough", I remember this interesting comment I saw on an article called "The Problem With The Dark Magical Girl Genre"(which I would totally recommend checking out, by the way!) which said that shojo magical girl and seinen magical girl both embrace a different philosophy regarding strong female fighters. In shojo, they tend to embrace femininity as a strength and show girls that they have the power to do whatever they want and undergo dangerous professions. But in seinen, which conveniently enough is more likely to "deconstruct" the genre(ugh), rather than admiring the girls and supporting them in their endeavors, the girls are meant to be pitied(often to the point of infantilization) when bad things happen to them, with the fact that they are girls serving to make everything worse. It operates under the idea that girls are fragile, in need of protection, and shouldn't be fighting at all.

That's why deconstructions like Madoka Magica and Yuki Yuna don't sit right with me, and also why I don't consider them feminist series. People can say whatever they want about Sailor Moon and Pretty Cure, but ultimately they also had dark and dangerous themes(to the point where some kids had nightmares), but ultimately allowed the girls to rise above the hell they went through and find the strength in them to save the day. We feel bad for them when they die, not because they're moe girls, but because we were actually given the time to form a connection with them and want to see them succeed, rather than just be expected to pity them because they're cute manipulated girls. That way, when they ultimately save the day, it's all the more satisfying. Princess Tutu was a deconstruction that actually went about it in the right way, because the girls eventually found the courage to defeat their enemies in a way that made sense. Why the hell is it a "good" thing to subvert that?

No clue, but I basically agree with everything there. I mean, Madoka Magica’s entire stick is basically that all the girls are like “uwu” in terms of the style (with Madoka being the “cutest” of them all) and then being put in this dark and edgy plot+setting; it’s for both the shock value and the “contrast” of having “moe” characters be thrust into these situations to essentially die.

And the conclusion doesn’t end up being satisfying (at least to me) because the villain doesn’t have emotions so he’s just like “owo” (seriously, I wouldn’t hate on Rebellion so much if Kyubey had been given emotions rather than going crazy; Homura can basically do whatever she wants and it was SUCH A MISSED OPPORTUNITY) so it ends up being more about the journey getting there like wow look at all the sUbvErSiOnS and dEaTh we had along the way!

Because at the end of the day, it’s still like, “the girls give into their ‘hysterical emotions’ in the end basically no matter what,” even if they get saved by Madoka in the end.

Anonymous said:

Do you remember, in Madoka Magica, when Kyubey said that humans would still be living in caves if not for the Incubators? First of all, keep in mind what Incubators do. Their entire purpose on this earth is to feed off the emotions of young teenage girls as they spiral into despair as a result of their delusions of power. Like wow, let that sink in. Apparently humanity's advancement relies on the exploitation of women. We are literally the punching bags of the universe. Isn't it lovely?

No! You see--we’re so important to the world! If we weren’t emotionally exploited, the world wouldn’t be the way it is now! :D

(kill me)

Anonymous said:

I once saw a tag on tumblr that read "The only good magical girl anime is Madoka Magica because it's gay, and even it has problems." Like, ugh. Really? Has this person not watched ANY other magical girl anime? Such ignorance. So many things wrong with that statement that I can't--and WON'T--even begin to unravel here.

MADOKA MAGICA IS NOT GAY AND I’M SO TIRED OF PEOPLE CLAIMING IT IS

s T O P

I DON’T EVEN CONSIDER YURI ON ICE TO BE GAY. MADOKA MAGICA? NAH MAN.

Anonymous said:

Do the girls in Madoka Magica even have transformation phrases? You know, like how Marinette says "Tikki, spots on!" or how Sailor Moon says "Moon Prism Power! Make-up!" or how Iris in LoliRock says "Iris! Princess of Ephedia!" etc. But in Madoka Magica, there doesn't seem to be any of that. At least in Yuki Yuna they pressed a button on their phones. But how do the Puellae Magi even transform? Just goes to show you how Gen Urobuchi knows next to nothing about the genre he claims to deconstruct.

Transformation phrases are magical and cool and you can’t take that away from me.

Anonymous said:

I had a shower thought about Madoka randomly in bed last night: If a Magical Girl's Soul Gem loses control over its user when 100 metres or further away from it, that meant that when Homura got Sayaka's Soul Gem back for her, Sayaka should've regained consciousness once Homura was less than 100 metres away, even if she didn't have her Soul Gem yet. I also love to ponder why on Earth Homura would even bother retrieving Sayaka's Soul Gem if she only cares about Madoka and Madoka's well-being.

I think it’s just a complicated process of Homura trying to make sure Madoka doesn’t fall into despair herself (in a non-witch way) and is convinced to make a wish.

Anonymous said:

The more I think about it, the more I realize that Sayaka really got the worst deal out of the whole thing. While her story may seem more "mundane" compared to the others(she just wanted the token Ill Boy osananajimi to like her back), she's the only one who somehow isn't brought back when Madoka recreates the universe, loses her Soul Gem on more than one account(and on the second, she starts decomposing and her crush sees her and calls her a monster because he thinks she's pretending to be the REAL Sayaka), is supposedly the weakest Magical Girl, getting swiftly taken out by both Kyoko AND Homura(the latter of which doesn't even make sense, if her body can heal why was she taken out so quickly?), takes a long while to show up in Magia Record, and Gen somehow finds it suiting to single her out as the one who is "destined to die" every time she makes a contract. Apparently the series director wanted Sayaka to live/be brought back, but Gen refused because it just had to be edgy.

Of course, MEN are allowed to have wish fulfillment power fantasies and dream like the sky's no limit and aspire to be all they want to be, but the second WOMEN try to be the strong ones, the powerful ones, or dream of something for themselves and others, they have to learn a lesson about how unrealistic their fantasies are and how they'll never live out their dreams. Hence why Sayaka puts the blame all on herself, saying that she's not a hero and was stupid and selfish the whole time.

"token Ill Boy osananajimi“ dfhbgjhfdgdfg

It was a real shame because I liked Sayaka somewhat (not saying much but still) and she was such a predictable one to go. Like, “oh wow, an angst-y anime all about shock value? so basically the best friend is dead then with no chance of survival.”

I think I do remember being told/reading somewhere (so don’t quote me) that Sayaka is the one that’s hardest to keep alive in the games, so you have to work hard for it. It just sucks.

Anonymous said:

Yet another thing that bothers me about Puella Magi is how the show frames the young ladies as if everything is their fault even though they have no idea what they're getting into because the person who makes the deal doesn't even bother explaining shit to them and all the show's attempts at deconstructing is just taking lighthearted elements meant to empower girls and show them that they can be brave and strong as well as feminine and make them dark and morbid.

Like, I get the whole "having young girls fight is a little unrealistic" aspect, but most magical girl shows actually do touch on that! Only difference is that over time, they become stronger and better at fighting(which is only to be expected, whether you're a teenage girl or not) and become more competent along the way because the whole genre is about FEMALE EMPOWERMENT.

Not to mention how the show seems to forget that the Incubators are villains and even seems to put them in the right and the girls in the wrong, what with the claim that they rationalize with the girls they make contracts with like sentient human beings(yeah, because emotionally manipulating young girls and literally taking their souls out of their bodies and making them liches without their consent is definitely treating them like sentient human beings), and that they always follow up on their end of the deal whereas it's the girls' faults their wishes go sour because they never wish for what they truly want(I'm sorry, but I simply DO NOT buy that. Homura and Mami outright wished for what they wanted. Their wishes went sour because the plot "decided" that they should have wished in a different way; plus, you're telling me that if Sayaka had outright said she wished "for Kyousuke to love her back" that the show wouldn't just "make" him mind-controlled or have Sayaka "outgrow" her feelings by the time he falls in love with her, all the while making it out to be "her" fault he's so heartbroken because she was some kind of tease or whatever, further demonizing girls' sexualities?).

Plus they explicitly claim that every woman in history was a magical girl and that without them, humanity would still be in caves(as in, humanity wouldn't be able to progress without the oppression and exploitation of women, and women can't gain power without going insane because female power is some unhealthy, inhuman, infernal thing.). Even if we take this all as a reflection of patriarchal society(which I highly doubt it was, if anything, it reinforces it), all it does is imply that the oppression of women is the natural order of things, required even.

As for the girls themselves, they routinely beat themselves up and the show makes no effort to tell them they're wrong(up until the massive cop-out of an ending), like how Sayaka's last words before becoming a witch are literally her "admitting" that she was "stupid, so stupid" for wanting a boy to love her and be healed of his infirmity. It just seems like we're supposed to think "you know, maybe the Incubators aren't that bad!" while ignoring that the girls are being treated like the disposable trash bags of the universe. This show already does the magical girl genre dirty but treating it like everything the Incubators did was necessary and like it's all the girls' faults these things happened to them in the first place is the icing on the stale, sour cake. Nothing like a giant heap of sexism to help get you through your day. :/

I’ve noticed this a lot in Miraculous, but Madoka Magica somehow does it worse; this “one (supposed) mistake leads to all of these consequences you never saw coming.”

Like Ladybug calling Lila out. We know that Lila’s pettiness in “Chameleon” shows that it wouldn’t matter whether Ladybug yelled at her or not; the simple fact that Marinette opposes a liar led to Marinette getting expelled, even if only for a while. Then there’s “Miracle Queen” and all that garbage that came with it.

These two shows put their teenage girls through hell for having emotions and there’s no way to undo it.

Anonymous said:

Honestly, the Madoka Magica fandom is basically the magical girl equivalent of "not like other girls" type women. I can't say I'd be surprised if they didn't watch a single magical girl show other than Madoka because they're all "stupid and girly but this one is edgy and dark" just because those shows are written by women to inspire other girls and show femininity as a strength while Madoka Magica is written by men for men who want to see young girls suffer without any actual feminism.

Like, let's go through their arguments one-by-one to prove that they don't hold up. They love to say that Madoka Magica is better than other Magical Girl shows because "it's dark and edgy and shows the downsides to being a Magical Girl unlike other shows where it's all sunshine and lollipops". First of all, other Magical girl shows also got very dark. Princess Tutu and Utena are also "darker" takes on the genre, but even more lighthearted shows like Sailor Moon and Precure had scary moments.

The only difference is, with them, they still managed to critique problematic aspects of the genre and actually provided ways to improve it, while STILL managing to keep their target audience(FEMALES) in mind, without condescending to them and infantilizing them. And they still showed the girls being empowered and overcoming the darkness.

In Madoka, there's none of that, there's no actual critique of the genre because Gen didn't have the respect for it to do his research, it's aimed at men so it doesn't keep female viewers in mind by definition(which is also another reason why it can't be a deconstruction; deconstructions should be done FOR its target audience), and the girls are constantly put down and treated like Moe crybabies by the narrative even when they're not(cause, you know, teenage girls are "emotional"!). And it doesn't offer ways the genre could improve, it just takes a female-empowering genre and twists it to be this system of oppression that the genre is meant to avoid.

Magical Girls tend to have a very strong focus on girls empowering girls and all that awesome stuff, and yet when Madoka and Mami form a special bond and Madoka encourages Mami by telling her she's not alone? It makes her big-headed and overconfident and she gets devoured by Charlotte. See what happens when girls rely on each other? Madoka is Sayaka's best friend, but gets pushed aside in favor of Kyoko, who later dies for Sayaka because girls who want to help each other had better be prepared to suffer and die for their beliefs. Sayaka loses everything, which happens to include her best friend, over a guy. And the whole witch process means that any female solidarity that could be found in the show is thrown out the window since the core concept of the show is girls being forced to brutalize and kill and exploit each other.

People act like Madoka is Yuri when it's not, Gen was asked if Homura really was in love with Madoka and if Kyoko really was in love with Sayaka, and what did he do? He beat around the bush. Naoko Takeuchi and Kunihiko Ikuhara(the latter of whom also worked on Sailor Moon R; woah, what a surprise) both admitted that there was gay love in their stories, yet people act like Madoka is super progressive regarding homosexuality when it's just implied and those shows were MUCH more open! Doesn't stop people from claiming the show is "honorary yuri" and saying that the meaning of "yuri" should be broadened to include any close bonds between two female characters, whether or not it's actually romantic, AND favoring the show(and HomuMado) above actual yuri shows that are made to appeal to women. If all this were actually valid, Sailor Moon would be yuri as hell.

I hate seeing people fap over this show and act like it's so revolutionary for recycling things that the genre was ALREADY DOING, because I know full well that the ONLY reason it gets this wide acclaim is because Magical Girl shows have traditionally been written for women and this show is aimed at men. That's literally it. Because nothing a woman writes is good enough, especially when it dares to go against patriarchal constructs of femininity as weak and docile by portraying it as cool and awesome. It doesn't matter how cool and dark and diverse and inclusive and complex Sailor Moon and Precure and Princess Tutu and Utena are, they're written by/for women with the intention of empowering them so they're automatically invalid, cheap, happy-go-lucky crap where nothing bad ever happens and anything those shows try to do ought to be discredited because they don't appeal to men like they should so what's the point?

But the second a MAN comes in and intrudes on a female-dominated space by doing all of those things but with a very shallow understanding of how they ought to be executed, people are all over it because a MAN did it and now it's interesting and respectable! I have seen so many people say that they don't like Magical Girl because it's girly and shallow and stupid, but then they praise Madoka for things that the girly and "shallow" shows have already done! Men are always taking away things meant for women and distorting it to fit their patriarchal views and yet when they do it it's somehow better and anyone who complains is simply a whiny straw feminist!

The fandom does it all the time, someone complains about the show and why they don't like it and find it sexist, and the response is always "you're just not smart enough to understand it; you have no idea what you just watched". Because obviously since it's made by a man it's sooo much smarter then the traditional sappy stuff made by women. That's why it's so annoying when others praise it at the expense of other works in the genre: they know their reasons for liking it are, more often than not, rooted in sexism against female-aimed and female-empowering works, so the only way they can praise it is at the expense of said works, hence them being just like girls who claim they're "not like other girls" when there's nothing wrong with girls being feminine and in fact many of those girls may like the same things you do!

So while I'm not saying there's anything inherently WRONG with liking Madoka, I DO have a problem with people who act like it's better or more serious than other shows in the genre and simply discard them on the grounds that they're "for girls", since they obviously didn't watch them.

me when I initially watched Madoka Magica: I don’t get why this exists.

me when I learned it was written by a man: ohhh, now I get it.

I also take issue with people comparing things that are made for different demographics. Like look, I don’t care if you enjoy your angst display over here, but also maybe don’t compare it to the stuff not even made for you unless you’re willing to get into a fight over it?

It comes off wrong, like they have to trash on stuff because it wasn’t made for them, y’know?

Anonymous said:

Honestly, I am so sick of people saying that Magical Girl shows are sexist or anti-feminist, when all they do is portray girls being awesome and powerful while also being feminine at the same time, because "Well in Japan it's actually gender conformity because it's telling girls they can only be strong if they're feminine! You're just projecting your Western values onto an Eastern work!".

First of all these shows are made by women for women and often have explicit feminine messages that you literally cannot miss unless you are simply blind or trying not to see them. And they also tend to have a very strong focus on women supporting or empowering other women. Just think of Sailor Moon, which constantly gets this "criticism", and yet there's an episode where the girls explicitly protest against a villain who claims women are all shallow and useless and can't do anything without men's help. Would Naoko Takeuchi put that in the show if she weren't a feminist?

And then there's the fact that she has said that one message she wanted the female leads to convey was to value their relationships between other girls because girls are strong and don't need to waste time depending on men. There's also the fact that most Magical Girl shows tend to treat the powers as something special and awesome that's unique to women and girls, paired with the coming-of-age themes present in the show, and you get a magical equivalent of female puberty, with magic mixed in.

But no, all of that gets thrown out the window because they dare to be "feminine" while doing all of that stuff and the Japanese are forcing their girls to be girly through Magical Girl propaganda. And I just HATE when people act like anything feminine must be societally forced onto girls, rather than girls just happening to like them. In addition, stating that they are simply reinforcing gender roles by being feminine is such bullshit because the whole purpose isn't about conforming to patriarchal femininity, it's about reclaiming femininity.

Too often, femininity is associated with being weak, powerless, helpless, submissive, docile, vapid, catty, bitchy, petty, vain, stupid, the list goes on. Magical Girl saves femininity from a bad reputation. It shows femininity in a new light, as something strong and powerful and, hell, even admirable! It's about telling girls "Hey, you can be strong and powerful and smart, but you don't have to be a tomboy or act like a man to do so". Girls are always told they have to act masculine to be taken seriously because the only way to be respected is to be like a man, which is an indirect way of saying that only men deserve respect.

Magical Girl does away with all that in favor of showing the feminine as something innately powerful, and yet naysayers MISS the point and say that it's just stereotyping girls instead. To see people claim that Magical Girl forces girls to fit a feminine ideal to be respected is just disappointing. It's supposed to be a female power fantasy for young girls that shows them as the ones being powerful and empowering each other.

Take how in Sailor Moon the heroine often says something along the lines of "I won't let you take advantage of girls", which Wedding Peach went on to imitate. The purpose of the genre is for girls. To empower girls. So why on earth would they show them fitting into a "male" mould of power? Do these people think that any time women are shown acting distinct from men that they are doing something wrong?

And the hypocritical part is that nobody pisses on male-oriented anime for reinforcing a harmful narrative to boys that they have to be masculine to be valued and respected. Of course they don't! Because being "masculine" is never seen as a bad thing to be. It's assumed that masculinity is always strong and good and awesome and there's nothing wrong with boys being forced to be masculine because you're supposed to want to be masculine. You're not supposed to want to be feminine.

So of course people will shit all over Magical Girl for embracing, empowering, and reclaiming femininity, because it's not supposed to be that way! You're not supposed to be feminine and also be strong. You're supposed to deny your identity as a woman and assimilate into the boys' club because only boy things are worthwhile! And they cover it up by saying that Magical Girl forces girls to be feminine, when in actuality the WORLD forces girls to be MASCULINE. Magical Girl doesn't force girls to be feminine, It ALLOWS them to. Do you see the difference there?

Another thing I'd like to bring to the table is that the claim is racist and here's why: The claim that "Magical Girl shows are seen as feminist in the US for portraying femininity as a source of strength but not in Japan because it's telling girls they have to be feminine"...what does that mean? Japanese people can't be feminist? All Japanese people are sexists and think girls have to fit in a certain role? Do Japanese feminists HAVE to be anti-femininity? Are there literally no Japanese people who think you can be feminine AND strong(who also obviously identify as feminists?) Because it seems hella sexist to insinuate that Magical Girl shows are sexist because they're made in Japan and they don't believe you can be feminine AND strong there.

While there is some credibility to it since Japan IS, by and large, much more strict with gender roles, hasn't it ever occurred to these people that these types of shows exist to counter that belief? Not only that, but it implies that people aren't allowed to have opinions on works that aren't made in their culture, and that anyone who sees those shows as feminist are just projecting their Western beliefs onto an Eastern work. And even worse, when people say that, they don't have the same opinion of Western Magical Girl works.

Just look at LoliRock, Miraculous Ladybug, Winx, W.I.T.C.H., Star vs the Forces of Evil, and countless other European/Western Magical Girl works. Where are the people saying "They get their power from femininity and that is sexist!"? Nowhere! They're silent! Even though those are very much like Magical Girl works from Japan(although I don't think the genre originated from there), while still being original.

It's because people think that any media exported from Japan is automatically sexist and demeaning and so anything they create, no matter how empowering their intentions, gets twisted into something that's somehow toxic or unsafe for girls to watch. But when Europeans do the exact same thing nobody complains. Because Japan is not allowed to do anything empowering whatsoever; something's always wrong with it, apparently.

So that's why I have a problem with people who say those things; it's so problematic because they think they're being all open-minded and aware/respectful of other people's cultures, but all they're doing is reinforcing negative stereotypes further. It's kinda like what I said earlier(in another ask) about how people love to praise Madoka Magica for being a unique, dark, and interesting take on the genre when all it did was rehash elements of the genre that already existed, strip away the female empowerment, and gear it towards grown men, which is why people like it more. How about instead of speaking for Japanese people you let them speak for themselves?!

I would also like to add that there’s even a limit to women acting masculine because that’s still “not enough” for those kinda of men who would promote those beliefs. Women need to act more masculine to “be taken seriously” but then you have men who’ll tell them to “dress less” or whatever.

I think what it comes down to is that they want women to not be “emotionally taxing” with all those dAmN eMoTioNs of theirs (unless it’s for the sake of their angsty magical girl anime where the girls suffer for having emotions), but they also need to look pretty and be sexualized.

We can’t win.

[kindred-is-obsessed]

Reasons you should be watching Craig of the Creek

Not enough people are watching this wonderful show, so I thought I’d do my best to introduce people to it. It’s made by former Steven Universe crew Ben Levin and Matt Burnett, so if you’re missing Steven Universe while it’s on hiatus this is a great way to keep away the hiatus blues, or if you just enjoy in cartoons. It’s great for a whole list of reasons, which broadly fall into the two categories of great representation and great storytelling:

Canonical queer representation

-       The witches premiere in the episode The Curse. If you aren’t sure if you want to watch this whole show definitely watch this one at least! It’s my absolute favourite not least of all because it’s about teen goth girls in love. It has a sequel The Last Kid in The Creek which is also wonderful, and the witches cameo throughout the series. I don’t want to spoil too much but The Curse is essentially about the two not wanting to be separated and struggling to admit their feelings for each other. (Spoilers: they do and walk off alone, blushing, staring at each other lovingly, while the kids aww at them)

-       Bernard and his girlfriend watch a cooking show hosted by a gay couple.

-       Other cameos, hints and coded queer kids such as JP’s sister (who has fancy dinner reservations with Kat, a woman with a shaved head who compliments Kelsey’s fake sword). There’s also Raj and Shaun (two very close friends), as well as several very boyish tomboys, including Handlebarb and Turner.

-       All public bathrooms I’ve spotted in the show have gender neutral signs on them which is nice.

POC representation

-       Craig, the main character, is black and has a loving family explored in depth, including an activist grandmother working for the council, a wise and fun grandfather, a supportive fun dad who loves his amazing wife, an adorable assertive little sister, and an angsty overachieving older brother who just wants to be a good grownup who loves his family and girlfriend.  

-       There are MANY characters of colour. There are black and brown characters, Raj is Indian, Stacks is Hispanic (and it’s implied she is an immigrant), there are several Asian characters, Kelsey is Hungarian and Jewish, a persistent background character wears a hijab (I’m pretty sure she was named at some point but I can’t find her name anywhere. She definitely has lines at one point). I’m sure there are others I have missed. No one is a stereotype as far as I am aware.

Subtle neurodivergent representation

-       JP is possibly on the autism spectrum. I’d love neurodivergent people’s opinions on this, but while the representation isn’t canonical or obvious I think it’s good that while JP is represented as having different thought processes from his friends, he isn’t made fun of for it, at least not by them. It’s noteworthy I think that he’s the eldest of the core trio, probably because he finds it easier to relate to younger people who still share his imagination and care less about his unique way of thinking. His neurodivergence is explored most explicitly in the episode Jextra Perrestrial, so if you’re interested in this kind of representation definitely check that episode out.

Non-nuclear family representation

-       While the main character is a member of the typical nuclear family you see on TV (except black, and actually interesting) most of the other families we see are not.

-       JP is raised by his mother and older sister. His father is never mentioned and their house is definitely in worse condition than the others we see. His family works hard to take care of each other. His sister is a nurse and both her and her mother are away a lot of the time, but they both love JP very much. JP’s sister also happens to be really openly body positive. I love them a lot.

-       Kelsey’s father is an only parent. There’s still a lot of mystery surrounding how Kelsey’s mother passed away. It’s a very subtle but important part of Kelsey’s character and comes through in really bittersweet adorable ways (not limited to Kelsey using her “half-orphan”ness to guilt trip a man into giving her money)

-       Other kinds of families are scattered throughout the show, including families that move around a lot, a home-school kid with a strict mother, and more.

Unique approach to fantasy and sci-fi

-       You know how most kids show will take a kid’s fantasy and bring it to reality? Well Craig of the Creek keeps the fantastical and nostalgic element of that line of thinking but never confirms or denies whether the kids fantasies are real or in their heads. And not in a Scooby Doo way where the fantastical elements are explained away, but are hinted as a possibility right at the very end. Instead, two perspectives (the fantastical perspective and the realistic perspective) are woven into every episode.

-       This means there are two ways to interpret every episode. You can view the witches as real witches, or as goth teenagers. You can view Helen as a kid from another dimension, or a home-school kid who is never at the creek at the same time as the other kids. You can view Deltron as a cyborg from the future, or as an imaginative kid from a big city.

-       This is super unique and fun to watch. They come up with so many new ideas and its always fun to figure out what’s actually happening, while still getting to relive childhood fantastical nostalgia.

-       Almost all of these episodes use this to talk about an issue, but these issues can get quite complex and are definitely not shoved down your throat.

Overarching mystery plot about a colonialist kingdom / cult

-       Love the slow burn storytelling of Steven Universe’s Diamond Authority? Love putting together the mysteries of Gravity Falls? Then you’ll love this plot about colonialism, classism, bullying, peer pressure and more and its mysterious build up including cryptic graffiti art and flower symbolism.

-       Even before this arc properly begins, Craig of The Creek primarily centers around the microcosm of the Creek. Many of the episodes have a lot of commentary on society, politics and how different factions of people form and interact.

-       The show is over 50 episodes in and this arc is only just starting to kick off so now is the time to catch up and watch.

-       Fun complex villain(s)

Complex relatable characters

-       Want commentary and nostalgia about horse girls, children’s tea parties, weird kids, angsty teens, young weebs, dweebs and more!? Every childhood obsession is represented in this show.

-       Adults! All the parents and older teens in this show are just as rich and complex as the kids. They are all so interesting and fun.  

-       Want characters with arcs, aims, fun relationships and complexity!? Look no further! Redemption arcs! Revelations! Found family! It’s all here!

Great art and soundtrack

-       Cute background and character designs that make you nostalgic as hell and are also beautiful and well thought out.

-       Sometimes the art design is changed up for a particular episode to portray a certain fantastical / sci fi element. It’s very fun and engaging. 

-       An opening song that’s fun to sing along to, bittersweet ending song that makes me want to cry, a couple of musical episodes including a super fun rap musical episode, and a great OST

Queer headcanons

-       There are tons of ways to interpret the show but here’s some of my head canons just to get an idea.

-       (Note that despite my headcanons I use the pronouns for the kids that they use in the show cause I’m not certain about any of it and they’re kids who haven’t come out yet and also for clarity and consistency’s sake – I’m not saying trans people are not their genders. Don’t worry I’m nonbinary)

-       I headcanon that all the main trio grow up to realise they are queer. They strike me as that weird group of friends that doesn’t fit in with the other kids and aren’t quite sure how they all came to be friends, only to later realise they all showed early signs of breaking gender roles and that’s why they stuck together.

-       Craig definitely grows up to realise he’s gay, bisexual or queer. His admiration for characters like Deltron and Green Poncho are definitely crushes that he mistakes for a strong sudden and eager desire for friendship.

-       Kelsey probably grows up to realise she is nonbinary, a trans boy or a WLW. I mostly headcanon this because I relate to her a lot and I’m nonbinary and queer so I said so. She reminds me a lot of myself as a kid. She throws herself into books, mostly fantasy for escapism. She fantasises and writes a lot for the same reasons. She dresses like a tomboy (She always wears her hair up in the same bun which strongly reminds me of my own childhood hair dysphoria) and she hangs out solely with male friends.

-       JP gives me strong trans lesbian vibes, or to a lesser extent nonbinary vibes. (I know his sister is WLW coded but take it from me there can be more than one queer in a family). He is interested in girls, specifically Maney the horse girl (he even joined the horse girls for one episode). He wears a long V-neck shirt that is essentially a dress ALL the time. He’s aware that he’s different and while self conscious sometimes, mostly just wants to express himself the way he wants to. He also chooses to go by initials JP over his very gendered name Johnathan Paul (In a recent episode he names a ship after himself, calling it “The SS Johnathon Paulina”).

-       (Sidenote if you do start watching this show and I see any nasty shipping of these characters in non puppy-love fashion so help me god)

 Other reasons

-       The show is at times very intertextual and references Princess Mononoke, Super Smash Brothers, Sailor Moon, Lord of the Rings, and a billion other things. It also has some fun cameos, including background images of the Tres Horny Boys from The Adventure Zone, a TARDIS from Doctor Who, and a Cookie Cat from Steven Universe.

-       Honestly, this post hasn’t done the best job explaining why I love this show so much. You honestly just have to watch an episode to understand fully what I’m talking about, so give it a go! Watch The Curse at least, it only goes for 10 minutes.

[chicagosfinest2021]

nosy anons let's go

(I know people are supposed to anonymously send these to people but most people usually don't bother so I'm just going to answer them myself because I can :-P )

0: Height-5'3"

1: Age-Old enough to know what a pager is but young enough to never have actually used one before X-D

2: Shoe size-9

3: Do you smoke? No

4: Do you drink? Occasionally/socially

5: Do you take drugs? Just benadryl for my allergies

6: Age you get mistaken for? Early to mid 20's

7: Have tattoos? No

8: Want any tattoos? No, I like my chocolately skin the way it is :-)

9: Got any piercings? Just my ears

10: Want any piercings? I might get one or two more

11: Best friend? My sister

12: Relationship status? Happily unattached

13: Biggest turn ons? Men who have money and spend it on me

14: Biggest turn offs? Broke men who are looking for free sex and free therapy

15: Favorite movie? An Indian movie I just watched on Netflix a few months ago called "Queen". I saw so much of myself in the main character, it was amazing.

16: I’ll love you if… For men, you consistently make the effort to make me happy and make sure I'm taken care of(which includes respecting my time and my presence in your life). For women...we just have to bond and genuinely enjoy each others company, that's really it. Women earn my love much more easily.

17: Someone you miss? My grandmother, I'd probably give up a lot of good things I have going for myself right now in exchange for having my grandmother back.

18: Most traumatic experience? (*Trigger warning*) My sexual assaults, especially the second one because it was someone I'd known since I was a kid.

19: A fact about your personality? I've been introverted since childhood. I like either small intimate settings or being alone, rarely do I enjoy being in big groups.

20: What I hate most about myself? That it took me so long to come out of my social anxiety and had low self value for so long. I think that if I had conquered all of that sooner, I'd be a lot further ahead in life.

21: What I love most about myself? I'm more secure in who I am now than ever before. There's certain things that I used to tolerate that are unthinkable to me in the present, and I don't have "haters" because anyone that might be throwing negative energy my way doesn't register.

22: What I want to be when I get older? A luxurious Black woman with my own condo and living in an upscale neighborhood. I want to be saving money, making wise investments, and spoiling myself and my niece <3 I also want to have a tight group of girl friends I spend time with regularly.

23: My relationship with my sibling(s)? I have one full sister who is like my twin and we're very close, and a younger half-sister who's 8 years my junior whom I love but don't relate to too much. We have different mothers and (through no fault of hers) we grew up in very different environments: me and my oldest sister are a lot more "bougie" as a result of our suburban upbringing, but our little sister grew up in the 'hood and applies "hood logic" to a lot of things. The type of men we're attracted to, the type of music we like, the company we keep. . .it's like trying to talk to someone who speaks a foreign language.

24: My relationship with my parent(s)? I'm a daddy's girl. Even though my dad and I don't see eye to eye on everything he's the reason why I have such high expectations from men. My mom and I only recently started getting close, she and I tend to bump heads more often than me and my dad.

25: My idea of a perfect date? I show up to a 4 star Italian restaurant and my date meets me with roses and a small gift. We sit down and he's a gentleman, we eat, chat, makes jokes, and have a few drinks. After he pays the bill but before we get up to leave he passes me an envelope under the table. I take a look and see that it has $700 in cash inside of it. I accept it and thank him. Before we part ways he requests to see me again soon and I tell him I'll have to check my schedule. My Uber ride pulls up and my date opens my door for me before taking my hand and kissing it.

26: My biggest pet peeves? Men who want maximum benefits for minimal effort and the women willing to give it to them. Also trap music, just. . .in general. Oh and Black people who still insist we're "taking the sting out of the N-word" by using it casually amongst ourselves, it's just such a problematic and counterproductive mindset and I can't even pretend to entertain it.

27: A description of the girl/boy I like? I don't currently have anyone that I like but ideally they'd be well groomed, witty, intelligent, stable mentally, emotionally and financially. Someone who likes jokes but isn't vulgar, and notices the little things about me (how I make eye contact, my natural scent, the way I carry myself when I walk, sit, stand, etc). Being physically attractive is always a plus, but things that I find physically attractive in a person is very broad.

28: A description of the person I dislike the most? Rude, unkempt, body odor, someone who doesn't respect personal boundaries, ungrateful, uninteresting, someone who talks incessantly about things they don't actually know or can't comprehend.

29: A reason I’ve lied to a friend? I can't remember the last time I lied to a friend about anything.

30: What I hate the most about work/school? My current position is uninteresting, tedious and not in a field I was working in previously. Also I'm doing work that realistically should be performed by 4 or 5 people but of course they expect one person to take care of everything. It's really just a temporary gig to make money to save up for a new place, so I'm trying to suck it up because I know I won't be here long.

31: What my last text message says: My cousin said she got her 2nd covid vaccination today so I responded with "Hip Hop Hooray!" LOL

32: What words upset me the most? "I'm just looking to have fun. . ."

33: What words make me feel the best about myself? When another pretty Black girl gives me a compliment, I immediately feel invincible.

34: What I find attractive in women? High self esteem and a sense of security, not seeing other women as competition, women who are cultured and have multiple interests, and who enjoy learning new things as well as sharing her wisdom with others. I also enjoy creating bonds with women who are child-free by choice like myself.

35: What I find attractive in men? Their ability to spoil me and give me pleasure.

36: Where I would like to live? North side of Chicago maybe around Lincoln Park. Outside of the US I'd like to live in England or Ireland in the future.

37: One of my insecurities: I am a short woman with large breasts (double D's). I've been buxom since a very young age and being well endowed has made me the center of negative attention on more than a few occasions. I'm constantly battling between wanting to highlight my curves without "advertising" too much either.

38: My childhood career choice: I believe I wanted to be a writer. I'd love to be a travel blogger actually.

39: My favorite ice cream flavor: It used to be cookie dough but now it's mint chocolate chip

40: Who I wish I could be: Sade

41: Where I want to be right now: Sitting on the balcony of my luxury condo, sipping wine and watching the lights of the city while smooth jazz is playing on my record player.

42: The last thing I ate: A slice of my dad's birthday cake (red velvet)

43: Sexiest person that comes to my mind immediately: I have this picture of this male model saved on my phone who looks like a "stereotypical" sugar daddy to me: tall, caucasian male, white/silver hair, piercing blue eyes, mid to late 50's, full beard and mustache, about 6 feet tall, muscular build.

44: A random fact about anything: Countries with more irreligious people/atheists/non-believers tend to also be the most peaceful and prosperous.

[blacknight1230]

Second Star to the Right - Chapter 3

Part 1, Part 2

Peter’s POV: 

It was the night after the fiasco with my shadow. At least it was a new night here in London, as time was different in Neverland. Once I was at the Darling house, I scoped out the area for the black dog that ripped my shadow away from me from the previous night. Luckily, he or she was locked outside, sleeping soundly in the dog house in the backyard, a chain linked to its collar. Now, all I had to worry about was if anyone in the room was awake. 

“Tink, could you go in first to check if the girl is asleep?” I asked my fairy friend. She saluted me and sped away, a stream of fairy dust trailing behind her as she became nothing but a tiny ball of light. I watched as she knocked things over, rummaged through clothes in the wardrobe, and basically made a mess of the room, before she came back a minute or so. “The coast is clear,” she told me, a proud smile on her face. I thanked her and I flew into the room with her at my side, planting my feet on the window sill and peered at the room. 

Somehow, despite all the noise and the light, the girl was still asleep in her bed. I carefully roamed around the room, looking for my shadow, eyes getting caught on the young girl sleeping soundly. I noticed she was still clothed in clothes from the day, wearing denim jeans with holes in the knees and a simple (f/c) t-shirt. 

As I was studying the sleeping girl, Tink was looking around and through the keyholes through the drawers. She flew up to me after looking through one and told me, “I think I found your shadow.” She led me to the drawer and I flew towards it. The drawer was jiggling around, something obviously stuck in there that wanted to be let out. I looked at Tink, who smiled and nodded, silently telling me to go ahead. I quietly counted to three, a smile on my face, then ripped the drawer door. My shadow immediately flew up and out of the drawer, trying to get away when it recognized me. I subconsciously slapped the drawer of the dresser quickly, speeding towards my fleeing shadow. 

I chased it around the room, oblivious to the fact that I was creating a commotion. I eventually caught it, proud of myself as I tried to stick the black mass back onto me. But my shadow wouldn’t stick, regardless of what I did. After a failed attempt to attach my shadow by tying it around my ankles, my shadow started to tease me. Frustrated, I started to cry, hiding my head in my arms, as bad thoughts filled my head, making believe that I would never get my shadow to stick to me again. 

My crying was interrupted by a soft voice. “Boy, why are you crying?” it said. I looked up from my crossed arms with tears in my eyes. The young girl that was previously sleeping soundly in her bed was now looking at me with sleepy eyes over the edge of her bed. I quickly got up and dried my tears, not wanting her to see me in such a pathetic state “I wasn’t crying,” I told, refusing to admit my moment of weakness. “Are you sure? It looked like you were crying,” the girl pestered, looking at me with a curious tilt of her head. “I said I wasn’t crying. Boys don’t cry!” I protested, crossing my tan arms across my chest. The girl just rolled her eyes, but didn’t fight with me on the matter. 

She looked down at the shadow on the floor, which was trying to sneak away from me. I stepped on one of its legs, successfully able to stop it from escaping. “What are you doing?” she asked, when she saw the small interaction between me and my shadow. “I’m trying to make my shadow stick. But no matter what I do, I can’t get it to,” I explained, while rubbing a bar of something sticky on one of my feet. “Well it’s never going on like that. I think I have a way to help you,” she told me. 

Without another word, she got up and went to a drawer in a nearby dresser. She rummaged around it it for a bit, then pulled something out. “I’m not good at sewing, so I’m going to have to use super glue,” she said, holding a small plastic stick full of a clear liquid. I gave a small breath of relief; I did not enjoy  having my shadow sewn back onto me the last time I lost it. 

I gave the feet of my shadow to the girl, who after a small thank you, opened the cap of the tiny plastic tube and squeezed a significant amount onto it. I stuck out my feet for her and she quickly stuck my shadow onto the soles of my feet, making sure it was completely flattened to skin. I shifted around uncomfortably at the feeling of the super sticky glue on my bare feet, but tried not to show my discomfort. “Ok, I think it's fine now. Try walking around a bit,” the girl suggested, after holding my shadow on for minute or so. I did as she told me. getting up and walking around the room a bit. To my delight, my shadow followed my every move, acting as if it never fell off in the first place. 

“Thank you!” I exclaimed happily, turning to the girl and giving her the biggest smile I could muster. “You’re welcome,” she replied, a kind smile on her face. She got up from her position on the floor and put the stick of glue back in its proper place. While she did so, I got a good looked her, silently studying her appearance. Her wavy brown hair was a little messy and her brown eyes were a bit red, as if she was crying at some point. “What’s your name?” I asked her, curious about the nice girl who happily helped me. “What’s your name?” she asked back. “I’m Peter. Peter Pan,” I introduced, giving a polite bow to her.  “I’m Brianna,” she replied. Instead of curtsying like I thought she would, she stuck out her right hand. Confused as to what she wanted me to do, I left her hand hanging in the air. “What are you doing?” I asked with brows furrowed. “Oh, sorry, did you want me to curtsy? I never done one before as I’m used to greeting someone with a handshake,” Brianna explained, a faint blush on her face. “It’s ok. Bowing and curtseying is for stuck-up adults anyway,” I told her, ignoring the fact that I was the one to bow first. 

“By the way, why are your eyes red? Did you get something in your eye? ” I asked, slightly worried about the young girl. “Oh, no, nothing like that. I was actually crying before I fell asleep,” she told me shyly. “Why? Are you okay?” Who made this kind girl so sad? I thought. Maybe I can do something. 

“Not really. You see my mother is really mad at me for something that happened at school,” Brianna started to explain, taking a seat on her bed. “Why is that?” I moved to sit on the foot of her bed, sitting Indian style on top of the purple comforter. “My new teacher doesn’t like me and caught me doodling in my notebook. She gave me detention and lied to my mother about why I was in trouble.”  “That’s not fair! Your teacher has no right to do that to you!” I shouted, already hating her mean old teacher. “It doesn’t matter. Adults don’t believe or listen to children. I only finally realized that now that my mother and father have separated,” Brianna said sadly. I could see tears gather in the corner of her eyes as she looked down at the floor in despair.  “Separated? what do you mean? Where’s your father?” I asked, confused yet again. “He’s in America. My parents got a divorce because they weren’t happy being with each other anymore. I’ve had very little contact since we left my old home.” I didn’t know what a divorce was, but I could tell it was bad. Especially seeing how Brianna looked as she told me this terrible news. 

After learning about the reasons that have made her so miserable, I felt sorry for her. The final nail in the coffin was what she said next. “My mother wants me to grow up. I’m already fifteen, too old to believe in fairytales or sleep with a teddy bears and so on. I’m starting to think she’s right,” she said, hugging her legs to her chest. “No way! I won’t stand for it!” I exclaimed, jumping to my feet. Brianna turned to look at me, shocked, as I continued. “Brianna, come with me to Neverland! You’ll never grown up there!” “Neverland?” Brianna got up from the bed, moving to stand in front of me. “Where is it? I’ve never heard of before.” 

I quickly grabbed her hand and pulled her to the bedroom window. “You see those two stars out there,” I said pointing to the two shiniest stars in the night. “Second star to the right and straight on until morning. That’s Neverland. A land of endless adventure and magic, where time stands still and no child ever grows up!” I excitedly told her. “It sounds amazing Peter, almost too good to be true! But if I go there with you then I’ll be leaving my life here behind,” Brianna pointed out, a frown growing on her face. “Please come with, Brianna. You’ll never have to deal with mean old teachers and parents forcing you to grow up. Think of all the adventures you’ll have with my Lost Boys, the mermaids, Indians, and even the being able to face pirates,” I tried to persuade her, softly whispering into her ear as I stood behind her as her brown eyes gazed at the starry night sky. Brianna turned around to face, looking me dead in the eye. “You promise I’ll never deal with grown things again?” she asked. “I promise, I would never lie to you,” I told her, acting serious for once. 

Brianna thought for a moment, stuck deep into her thoughts. I almost thought she wouldn’t except my offer, until aher pink lips uplifted into a big bright smile. “I’ll go with you, Peter, just let me gather some stuff,” she told me. I couldn’t help but jump up and spin in the air as I let out a happy crow. From the top of sky painted ceiling, I saw Briana gather a small bag and started to fill it with stuff she wanted to bring with her. “Peter, I have a question. How will we get to Neverland? It almost seems impossible,”she asked apprehensively. “Why we’ll fly there of course. I’ll teach you to soar through the night sky, just like me,” I boasted, floating in the air above her. “I’ve always wanted to fly. You’re almost like a gift giving genie with the way you keep making my dreams come true,” she complimented me. I laughed at her silly comparison, getting a kick out of bringing her so much joy and happiness in such a short time. 

Brianna finished lacing up her sneakers, jumping to her feet. “Alright, what do I have to do?” “Fly is easy. A you need is faith, trust, and a little bit of pixie dust,” I explained. It was then when I finally notice I was missing my little fairy friend that was always at my side. “Wait a minute, where’s Tink?” I asked, turning my head around to look for her. “Tink? Who’s that?” “Tinkerbell is my fairy. She should be somewhere. She was just here,” I continued, now rumbling through wardrobes and dressers to find her. “A real live fairy? This is wonderful!” Brianna exclaimed, hands clasped together in happiness. I went over to the drawer where I found my shadow in, as that was the last time I saw her. The drawer door was glowing from the inside and jiggling around as high pitch bell sounds came from inside. I hurriedly opened it up and Tink immediately flew out and into my face. “Tink, there you are. Almost lost you for a moment there,” I sighed in relief. Tink was already yelling at me, several foul words mixed leaving her mouth as she wagged her finger in front of me. Brianna laughed at the scowling I was getting. “I may not know what she’s saying but I would be mad too if you shut me in a drawer and forgot,” she grinned. I just stuck my tongue at her in response as Tink angrily flew away. “Come on, Tink. I need you to help Brianna come to Neverland with me,” I pleaded. Think stubbornly refused, turning her back to face me as she sat on a little knick-knack on top of a dresser. 

“I think she doesn’t like me that much,” Brianna pointed out. “Really? But why? Sometimes I just don’t understand her sometimes,” I wondered. "I think she’s jealous,” Brianna teased. Tink didn’t like that, flying towards Brianna and grabbed a chunk of her hair then started to pull it harshly. She ended up dragging Brianna over to her bed and knocking the side of her head tried to hit  a bedpost. Brianna started to yell out in in pain and discomfort, trying desperately to get her to stop. “Tink! Stop that!” I shouted, lunging towards the green clad fairy. I grasped Tink in my hand, pulling her off of Brianna and threw her against a pillow on the bed. Fairy dust went everywhere as she made impacted with fluffy cushion. 

“Are you alright?” I worried, watching as Brianna gathered her long locks in her hand. “I think so. Just a bit sore. I’ll be fine,” she reassured me as she rubbed at the spot where Tink pulled her hair. “Quite strong for such a tiny thing, isn’t she?” Tink was back on her feet now, standing on top of the purple bed comforter, making rather rude comments about the brunette in front of me. “She’s not very polite,” I admitted, giving the fairy side glances as she made not nice gestures towards Brianna. “She says if you say something like that about her again ...” I trailed off. Tink grabbed the top of her head and pulled to the side, making a cracking noise and sticking tongue out, as if someone broke her neck. “She’ll kill you.” “Oh lovely,” Brianna said sarcastically. “I see she’s really charming.” 

Tink continued to grumble from her position on the bed, allowing me to successfully grabbed her while she was distracted. I gently shook her above Brianna’s head, tiny golden grains of pixie dust falling around the girl. “Now all you have to do think happy thoughts.” Almost immediately, Brianna started to rise into the air. She gasped as she hit the ceiling, laughing as began as light as a feather. “That was fast. You’re a natural,” I acknowledge. “I just hope I can concentrate enough to make it all way to Neverland. I might get distracted,” Brianna distressed. She faltered in her flying, dropping a bit before rising back upon as she focussed back on happy thoughts. “I can guide you by the hand if you would like me to?” I offered, gently reaching for one of her outstretched hands. “Thank you, Peter. LEt’s get going before anyone finds out what’s happening.” 

I nodded my affirmatively, grasping Brianna’s hand tightly into mine and leading her out of the window. “Off to Neverland!” I shouted as we started to soar above the homes of Bloomsbury. 

Third Person POV:

As Peter and Brianna soared off into the night sky, someone walked into the room they left behind. Wendy Darling couldn’t help the smile on her face as she watched her first childhood love guide the young girl at his side to a new adventure, just like he did for her. “Thank care of her, Peter,” she uttered in the wind, hoping it would take her words to his ears. “I hope she will be what you wanted me to be.” And she watched on for longingly until she could no longer see their figures on the horizon. 

[finnofamerica]

Awful Heart - Dwalin x Reader || Part Two ||

Summary: Being a live engineer for Poor Impulse Control, you usually don’t get a lot of attention. However, playing at seedy bars and the growing popularity of the band has caught the attention of some man - a stalker. With no idea who he is and his notes coming more frequently your production manager thought it’d be safer to hire a bodyguard.

Word count: 2222

Date Posted: 04.29.2020

|| Masterlist || Part One || 

“Another one?” Dwalin groaned as his brother placed a contract in front of him. 

“You’re quite intimidating,” Balin reasoned, “It makes sense why you are the most popular.” 

“Fili and Kili would do just as well.” He ran a hand over his bald head. 

“No matter, he wants you. He was explicitly clear.” 

“He?” Dwalin quirked a brow. Men were often intimidated by his stature, so they more often hired Gloin or Bifur. They were less intimidating but still excellent at their jobs. 

“Yes, Aaron Jones. He wasn’t making a whole lot of sense, only that he was hiring you to protect someone close to him. He wanted you to meet him at, oh what was it?  Lucky Barrel, that’s it.” 

“When?” 

“Tomorrow at noon. I added in an extra line into that contract for whomever you’ll be protecting.” Balin stood, brushing off his shirt even though there wasn’t a speck of dirt on it. He stepped a few paces away and paused, suddenly remembering an important detail. “I would pack some clothes if I were you. They are a touring band.” 

Dwalin arrived at The Lucky Barrel exactly at noon, as requested of him. Folded up in the pocket of his leather jacket was the contracts, requiring the final signature. He just wanted to get this over with. You were just another frail little girl that he’d have to protect because they didn’t know how to handle themself. The sooner he got this job done the soon he got to go home to his cats. He thanked Mahal quietly that Balin had agreed to watch them for him when he was out on a job. 

“Remember to go around the back, the front entrance won’t be open.” Balin had told him just a few hours ago.

“Now or never,” Dwalin grumbled, walking around the side of the building to the alleyway. 

“Ev! You bastard, get the rack!” A voice shouted, obviously frustrated. 

Parked in the alleyway was a van and trailer. A small team of men was pushing rolling crates into the back entrance of the bar. 

“That goes downstage, Dix.” A tall gangly man was directing traffic. 

“Yeah, I got it, Jones.” Dix shot back, shaking his head. Jones rolled his eyes at Dix, smiling once he took notice of Dwalin, who had been watching with abject curiosity, yet aloof at the same time. 

“You must be Mister Dwalin.” Jones reached out a hand to shake, “I’m Aaron.” 

“Just Dwalin is fine.” Dwalin shook Aaron’s hand. 

“Well, welcome aboard. I’ll introduce you to the crew. Come along.” The gangly man turned on his heels, walking briskly inside, making brief introductions along the way. Most of the crew gave him a quick greeting, then hurried back to work. 

On stage, the band was setting up their instruments and tuning. The one Dwalin assumed to be the leader was tuning a guitar, her hair braided down to her waist. Her black hair contrasting her pale skin. Two others were also tuning guitars, one a regular guitar and the other a bass. The one with the guitar switched from tuning to testing a few chords, her dark afro curls held back by a yellow headband, poofing out like a halo, dark skin complimented by the headband. The woman with the bass had longer hair, though it was just as curly. Tan and short, she seemed almost too small for the bass she carried. Finally, the woman sitting at the drumset. An Indian woman with pin-straight brown hair, though she seemed small, Dwalin knew enough about drummers to know that she could probably run laps around everyone in this place. 

“Dwalin, I’d like you to meet the band.” 

The four women approached each one of them looking at him curiously. Yep, exactly what he was expecting, small women who couldn’t fend for themselves. 

“So you’re the bodyguard my brother’s hired?” The leader glowered at him. 

“Oh Ryker, stop being such a grump! I’m Juniper, nice to meet you.” The young woman stuck her hand out for him to shake. Dwalin recognized her as the drummer. He shook her hand, though he was growing tired of formalities. 

“Don’t tell me what to do. If he’s going to be the one protecting my best friend then I want to make sure that -” Ryker argued. 

“That what?” The woman with the afro shook her head. “This is literally his job.” 

“Speaking of, have you ever killed anybody?” The bassist asked. 

Dwalin frowned at her. “No.” 

“A shame. I’d murder that sick el cabron if I could.” 

“You’re just bloodthirsty, Ava.” Juniper rolled her eyes. 

“That’s enough.” Aaron interrupted. “Magdalyn, keep them under control please.” 

The afroed woman nodded, ordering the rest of them back to their jobs. 

“If I’m not protecting them, who is it then?” Dwalin asked, tired of introductions. 

“Our little trouble maker.” Aaron pointed at a woman surrounded by the men who’d been unloading the trailer. So much for an easy job, he thought as he watched her work. She heaved a speaker over her head, carrying it to the other side of the stage with ease. Arms over her head exposed the curve of her waist, the tucked-in Poor Impulse Control shirt only accentuating the shape, jeans tight to her thick thighs. He could almost see the muscle underneath. After making sure it was plugged in properly, she returned to her spot at the back by the bar behind a large desk. Only upon closer inspection, he realized that it was actually a soundboard. 

Dwalin had always had a weakness for strong women, especially those who could carry their own weight without complaint. Those were the women who didn’t need protection, or if they did it was for a good reason. 

“That’s Y/n.” He continued, “About two months ago she started getting disturbing notes from some man. Nobody can figure out who he is since he’s never been seen, and he only signs his love notes with the letter N. Now, Y/n will insist that she can handle her own. She’s had to fight for herself before. Lately, though, the letters have gotten a little more detailed. Which has raised the concerns of yours truly. The police have done jack shit to find the guy, so we’ve had to resort to the next best thing. If that pervert tries something, you’ll be there to protect her.” 

Dwalin grunted. A stalker. That, at least, made for an interesting case. 

“Y/n!” Aaron called her over. 

You looked up at him, then over to Dwalin. The smile fell off your face as you swallowed nervously. You could tell from where you were that Dwalin was a large man. 

“Good luck Y/n/n.” Josh winked at you. 

“Shut up.” You huffed, muting the board before meeting Aaron and Dwalin at the stage. “Yes, Aaron?” 

“I want you to meet, Dwalin. He’s gonna be your bodyguard.” Your lovely production manager introduced. You tucked some hair behind your ear, a little embarrassed that your first meeting was while you were sweaty and disgusting. 

Dwalin reached out his hand to shake yours, being as that’s what had happened so far, why would you be any different. 

“Ahhh no thanks,” You blushed, “I don’t like being touched.” 

Dwalin almost smiled. Finally, someone who understood. He tucked his hand into his jacket pocket, retrieving the contract. 

“You’ll need to sign this,” He said plainly, though you were taken with his accent. 

“Sure.” You slipped it into your back pocket. “You’re a Scotsman then?” 

He just grunted. 

“I didn’t mean any offense, I was just guessing by your accent.”

“The sooner you sign the contract the sooner we can get the rest of this in order.” He replied. 

“Pen, Jonsie?” You reached out a hand. Aaron handed over the desired item reluctantly. 

“I’ll let you two get acquainted. If I don’t get that pen back, I’m coming for you Y/n/n.” 

“Yeah, whatever.” You waved him off. A few quick motions and you were handing Dwalin back the signed contract, which he tucked away for safekeeping. 

“I need you to listen to me carefully, lass,” Dwalin began, “Don’t go anywhere without letting me know first. If you can’t find me, text me, though I’ll be around most of the time. If you’re feeling unsafe in any way, you let me know.” 

“Got it.” You nodded. He made sure his number was in your phone, and then followed you back to your board. 

With the bar empty while the band set up allowed Dwalin enough leeway to sit back and observe. Mentally he was making a map, locating all the exits. If the stalker tried something at the show tonight, Dwalin was certain that he’d find him, but your safety was his top priority. 

The crowd began to pour in at about six o’clock that night. The band was in some backroom inside, doing their usual preshow routine. The rest of the crew stood outside in the alley, enjoying the evening breeze before the show, knowing all too well how hot and stuffy it’d be by the time the show started. The guys talked amongst themselves for the majority of their time spent outside. 

You knew Dwalin wouldn’t come between you and your friends, you didn’t feel much like talking while this mountain was behind you. However, you knew the only way you were going to get used to him is if you talked to him. In the low light of the evening, and now that hardest part had been done, you finally had the time to look at Dwalin. Really take in his rugged appearance. 

He was older than you, you guessed by at least five years. The weight of his work had shown on his face and you were curious to find out where the scar that crossed his nose and eyebrow had come from. His head was bald, revealing tattoos that covered his scalp. The lack of hair up top was compensated by his beard, just as thick and rough as the rest of him.

“You’re staring.” He grumbled. 

“I like your head tattoos.” You shrugged. He looked at you for a second, then turned away. 

“You do this every day?” He finally asked. 

“Well, not every day, but most days.” You turned around to lean against the wall, catching a little glimpse of the stars between the buildings. 

“When you’re not doing this?” 

“Well, I’m the only engineer they will work with so if I’m not in the studio with the girls then I’m probably doing normal people things. Trust me, my job is not as exciting as yours.” 

Dwalin almost smiled at that, as serious as he was. 

“I mean you protect people,” You continued, “You’re basically a superhero.” 

“I’m not a hero. I’m a man doing his job.” He frowned. 

“It’s showtime.” Aaron interrupted, waving his clipboard. “You all know what to do, and I trust you to do it and do it well. Get out there.” 

You were moving faster than anyone else. The second Aaron was done you were off the wall and heading inside. 

Dwalin almost lost you in the crowd. Swarms of not-quite-drunk people were crowding the stage. Luckily, in the dark, he was able to catch just enough of a glimpse of your hair to keep track of you. He knew where you were going, of course, but he wasn’t about to slack on the job and risk losing you on the first night. 

He stood next to you all night long. If he wasn’t working the band would’ve had his full attention, it wasn’t every day that all-female rock bands played bars. His attention was divided. Half was on you, protecting you, and the other half was scanning the bar. Dwalin wanted to identify the stalker if he could, or at least identify someone as suspicious and keep an eye on them. 

Nobody stuck out to him, normally a person of interest would at least act suspicious. Everyone here seemed normal. There were people in Poor Impulse Control shirts similar to the ones that the crew wore, and there were just normal people here on a night out. 

The only real good thing that came out of the night was that he had two hours of you. You were working, sure, but he’d never admit that he enjoyed watching you work - nor could he say that he knew what you did or how you did it. Before he knew it, the crowd was being cleared out and it was time to pack up. 

You reminded him of a bee, the way you buzzed around, helping the guys pack up as fast as possible. 

“Dix! Get the rack!” You called out, holding the last of the lights in your hands, bring it over to the case it belonged in. 

“You got it, boss!” Dix saluted jokingly and set to work on packing up the light rack. 

It was chaos. An organized chaos, but chaos all the same. Dwalin could almost say he was fascinated as he watched you push a crate three times your size out the door and into the gear trailer. 

Dwalin found himself wondering again what could have scared this crew so bad that they needed a bodyguard. Why the hell did you need protection?

Tags: Open || Part 3 || 

[lexfritterwrites]

Let Lips Do What Hands Do - Part 11

Y’all, I haven’t posted in here since they updated it so everything might be terrible. Anyway, I’ll do my best. You can always catch me on AO3. 

previous

It's April, and Addie feels like crying most days. In fact, she actually has cried for the past eleven days — once in the shower, twice over her cup of tea and the other times where when she was in bed alone. Taron's been filming in Ireland for three weeks, and it's a glimpse at how life would be if they were to stay together in all the madness.

 "Sad again, huh?" Jack says, catching the gray look in her eyes. "I feel I should be offended you're not that upset about leaving me."

 Addie throws a sugar packet at him, hitting her mark on his cheek. "I know things between us won't change when I leave. You'll just be a phone call away."

 "Taron will too."

 "That's different. I don't think I like this ache, this pain." Addie absently stirs her tea. "In the words of Elphaba, 'If that's love, it comes at much too high a cost.'"

 "You know she ends up with the scarecrow at the end of that musical, right? I mean, we saw it together. I wrote a review which you edited."

 Addie rolls her eyes, too done to deal with Jack today.

 "I love him, you know. And to think we won't be together because of our location, I think I would rather not be with him at all."

 "Your call," Jack says. "I know you're scared but I think the two of you could make it work, and that's coming from a guy who stays away from relationships. You don't have to split because you're half a world away."

 "What if he meets the one but can't act on it because of me? Or what if he does act on it and I'm left devastated? It's a real poop chute."

 "It'll work out, Addie," Jack says, covering her hand with his own. "It'll work out."

 Addie slumps and rests her head on the table. "Why?"

 Jack gently musses her hair. "You didn't not date for years while you were here and the first guy you do consider turns out to be fuckin' perfect. You really know how to pick them."

 Addie laughs, feeling a little lighter at the thought.

   It's her whole year on display, the premiere of the students' films adapted from classic novels. Four fully written, produced and edited films will be turned in with her thesis, but the gala tonight will only feature twenty minutes from each with the students having a few moments to present before their film. It's an affair she's invited the whole school to as well as their family and friends, and even though Jack is by her side, the one person she wants to be there most isn't. Taron's caught filming in Ireland; Addie understands but still doesn't enjoy it.

 "Look at what you've done," Jack says, watching the rows of students talk excitedly amongst themselves, no doubtedly ready to display their hard work. "Not even a full teacher yet and you've got them inspired. That's a noble thing."

 Addie squeezes his hand. She takes the microphone and heads to the center of the stage. Pausing a moment before delivering the introduction she's prepared, she smiles. The kids eagerly sitting before her are a tribute to her and her hard work and creativity, and this life is about her just as much as it is Taron.

 She takes her seat next to Jack as the first group's film rolls across the screen, an updated retelling of Sense and Sensibility. It's funny, well thought and inclusive of the community, what with Edward Ferris having evolved into Edwina and Colonel Brandon an Indian man in the British navy. Everyone claps as the students presenting The Picture of Dorian Gray take the stage. Addie's phone buzzes in her pocket and she risks a quick chance to look at it.

 Can we watch the full-length versions this weekend? - T

 Sure, if you want. - A

 I do! At least that one. I'm dying to see how they did the marriage proposals. - T

 Addie whips her head around, looking to see him somewhere. There are faces illuminated by the screen but then she sees him, sitting on the edge of the row with his hood pulled up over his head; no doubt he didn't want to be recognized. He waves slightly when he sees her, and Addie smiles.

 He came after all.

 I'm so happy you're here! - A

 I'm really glad I could make it. Will sneak to bar at end so as not to detract. - T

 Sounds perfect. - A

 Thank you for coming. - A

 Addie is extremely proud of everything the students accomplished, and the cooking class made a giant cake for the ocassion. She sneaks a piece for Taron in her bag, poses for pictures with the kids, compliments the parents for raising some great hopes for the future, and then she's dashing out the door.

 "Adelaide, you're incredible!" Taron says, standing up from the table. He wraps his arms around her and kisses her cheek.

 "I can't believe you're here," she says, her face buried in his neck. "How'd you manage?"

 "Flew in this afternoon," he says. "Wanted to surprise you."

 "I'm very surprised," she says. "Very happy, too."

 Taron kisses the side of her head before pulling away to point her to a secluded booth. "I want to hear all about the rest of the videos. When can we watch them?" He holds her hand across the table, leaning towards her.

 Addie bites the inside of her lip, studying him. "What's wrong?"

 "What?" Taron asks, shifting backwards. Addie knows she was right to expect something.

 "Taron, I know you," she says quietly. "I know when something's up. What is it?"

 "No, Adelaide. I came here to celebrate you and the work you've done and I don't want it spoiled."

 "I feel like it's already spoiled if you don't tell me what's going on. Is everyone okay? Your mom and the girls? Your dad?"

 "Everyone's fine." He exhales loudly, looking at the table. "It's two more weeks."

 "Oh." Addie sags against the cushion. "Oh."

 Taron rubs her knuckles with his thumb. "I know it's really shitty, but it is what it is."

 "It's okay," Addie manages over the lump of emotion lodged in her throat. She feels like she's gagging but it's just the thought of his absence for another two weeks just a couple of months before she's supposed to move back to the United States. "You chase your dream and I'll chase mine."

 "Thus, though we cannot make our sun stand still, yet we will make him run."

 Addie snorts, swiping a tear off her cheek. "Marvell. Good choice."

 "Anyway," Taron says. "We've got tonight."

 "Bob Seger, a modern poet."

 It's Taron's turn to laugh now and he shakes his head. "Seriously though, can I take you out to dinner and then stay up with you all night watching the work of your students?"

 "Yes, I would like that."

 "Good," Taron says, moving quickly from the table. He drops a note on its surface and helps Addie back into her coat.

 "Can I make an amendment to the plan though?"

 "What's that?"

 "Can we just pick something up and take it home? I really don't need an audience to just want to be with you and I'm wearing Spanx so I'd really like to get out of them and into my pajamas."

 "Deal," he says. "You look bloody gorgeous but comfortable is something I also enjoy. Your place or mine?"

 "Mine is closer but you have a better TV so let's do that."

 "Sounds perfect," he says. He could offer to run back by hers so she can gather things, but he knows everything she needs is available at his. Tucking her beneath his arm, he kisses the side of her head — she'd taken the news of his delay better than he would have expected.

 They're curled up in his bed and halfway through the updated retelling of Frankenstein when Addie stretches her fingers across his chest.

 "What is it, cariad?" Taron asks, shifting his eyes. He can see the crown of her head and the tip of her nose, and he can see her fingers flex against his shirt.

 "I'm thinking about us."

 "Oh?"

 She pauses the video and sits up, and it's then he sees the tears in her eyes. "I think when I leave, that should be our end."

 "Adelaide." He bolts upright and reaches for her, but his fingers don't actually land anywhere. He can't touch her now.

 "Being apart from you these past few weeks has been hell. I never thought I would be someone to feel this way about anybody, but here we are. I'm exhausted. It feels like a piece of me is missing when you're gone, like smiles are less genuine and laughter does little for my soul. I can't imagine living my life for extended amounts of time without you, feeling this way. So if we just enjoy the time we have left and part as companions who once loved each other, I think that would be better."

 "Do I not get a say in this decision?" He asks softly, his chest tight and his jaw returning to a painful clench.

 "Of course you do," she sighs. "But what is the logical outcome of this?"

 "Fuck this. You can sleep in the guest room tonight." Taron moves in a flash, storms into the bathroom and slams the door shut.

 "Taron! Taron, no!" Addie frantically scrambles off the bed and futilely twists the doorknob. "Taron! Taron, please."

 She can hear the shower running and she sinks to the floor. She knew she shouldn't have said anything.

   Taron finds her half an hour later curled up on the floor with her cheeks red and eyes blotchy. He wants to be angry, he can feel the cold inside him wanting to push her away, but he can't.

 "Addie, come on," he says, gently collecting her in his arms and setting her upright. "I'm hurting too, you know."

 She nods blearily as he leads her back to bed. "I didn't mean to ruin what we have now. I feel like shit, and now I really feel like sh—"

 "Addie, I know," Taron says. "What you're saying makes sense, but it really fucking sucks when it's said out loud. You would rather be without me than be far away and with me, and I suppose that makes sense. Your chances of moving on are better if you're not thinking about some loyalty to me."

 "Me moving on?" She laughs. Taron thinks her crying must have left her too weary to think properly. "It's you. You'll move on long before I will and I don't want you to be stuck with me."

 "That doesn't matter," he says, taking her hand. "I think you're right though. We have a few good weeks left together and we should spend them as happily as we can. Let's not fight or what-if ourselves anymore. You're here, I'm here, and we should let that be enough for now. I can't think on it anymore."

 "Is it really okay?"

 "For now." He wipes a tear from her cheek, knowing his own should be joining it had he not just cried in the shower. "Let's go to sleep and sleep very late into the morning beside each other."

   Taron bites his nail, a habit he'd gotten into since ditching cigarettes; his teeth weren't thanking him but his lungs certainly were.

 "There he is," Jack says, pulling out the chair across from Taron and sinking into it. "Mr. Egerton."

 "Jack," Taron says, shaking his hand. "I wanted to talk to you about Addie."

 "I figured," Jack says. "She told me about her plans of departure."

 "Yeah, and it's not good. How do I get her to stay?"

 “You don’t."

 "Jack, please," Taron says, rubbing his forehead. "I can't have her leave."

 "And you can't have her stay either." Jack says softly. "I know you love her, Taron, as do I, but I also know she won't stay. She'll come to regret the decision as well as you if she stays. Going back to Washington has been her goal for six years. It's all she's worked for and all she's wanted. You need to let her go."

 "Can you?"

 Jack snorts his laugh. "I don't have a choice."

 "We could talk to her together."

 "That's not going to work."

 Taron drops his head to the table, his chest feeling unbelievably tight. "I don't know what to do."

 "Taron, there's an obvious solution here."

 "What's that?"

 "Go with her."

 Taron grunts. "You and I both know that's not logical."

 "So what? You can't do for her what you want her to do for you just because you're a famous actor who happens to make more money?" Jack leans back in his chair. He's really liked Taron, like him for Addie, and he needs Taron to see the sense in this before his like gives into loathing. "You're not giving up her dream so don't let her give up hers."

 "She's your best friend. How can you be so calm?" Taron crosses his arms in front of him, elbows still on the table, and he lets his chin fall to rest against them.

 "Addie is more than a best friend to me," Jack says. "I truly believe she is my person, even if there's no romance. Addie wasn't even supposed to be born, yet here she is. Incredibly determined, driven and happy."

 "I know that." Taron leans onto his cheek.

 "I know you do," Jack says patiently. "That's part of the reason you love her." He reaches across the table and squeezes Taron's shoulder. "You have to let her go."

 "Why is that the only option?" Taron moans, rhetorically putting the words into the universe.

 Jack chuckles as he leans back in his chair. "That's the only way she'll come back."

 "You think she'll come back?"

 "I hope so," Jack says. "For both our sakes."

 Taron laughs. He'll have to make time for Jack when Addie is gone.

 He finds her asleep on the couch when he returns home, and he gently brushes a hand across her face.

 She opens one eye to look and smiles when she sees him. “I must have dozed off.”

 “Yeah,” he says softly. It spreads through him, a calm peace. She is leaving to pursue her dreams, and there is nothing he can do to stop her, nor would he want to. He kisses her tenderly, finally accepting it. “You want to go take a nap upstairs?”

 “That sounds nice,” she says, sitting up next to him. “Hey, are you okay?”

 Taron smiles and kisses her again. “I’m totally fine. I just really love you.”

 Addie’s laugh warms him and she leans her head against his shoulder. “I love you, too.”

 Taron takes her hand and quietly leads her upstairs.

[hildagirl99]

The lovers of the night

Scarlett and Aaron

(part 3)

2 weeks go by, Aaron and Scarlett always saw each other in the evening, during the day, they gave each other almost ambiguous accomplice looks. They talked about everything and nothing, getting to know each other a little more, even though Scarlett remained mostly silent, preferring to listen to the Sheriff. Tonight, there was a good opportunity to meet again, the rodeo party, it is certainly not a very romantic place to declare his flame but they should not miss this opportunity.

"Tonight ?" she asks, surprised.

"Yes, if you don't mind."

"But will there be people?"

"It's the principle of the holidays, inviting people."

"Oh ... I don't like the crowd ..."

"Don't worry, we will step aside, we will be quiet."

"Well ... I'll think about it."

"I really hope to see you tonight, Scarlett."

When evening came, Aaron was already there, 3 guards stood in front of the entrance, inside, it was crowded, alcohol and cigars smelled like noses.

Scarlett was still at home, not knowing what to wear for her date. Half of her wardrobe was mostly black. Did she have to dress in a simple way? Extravagant? If she put on lace, the Sheriff would take her for an easy girl, well what she doesn't want. She finally opted for a dress with a small black neckline, decorated with small diamonds. Watching her hair in battle, she decides to style and curl it, leaving her long curly lock in front of her eyes.

"It should be enough ... Come on ... I can do it." she thinks.

She puts on her black shawl and heads for the saloon.

"As long as she comes ..." thinks Aaron, in front of his small glass of whiskey, until he hears the guards' voices becoming imposing.

"You can't go back!"

"What? But it's not free to enter?" asks Scarlett, shocked.

"No, but to go back, it's 20 dollars!" asked the guard.

"Stop, I invited her!" said Aaron, arriving in time between the two guards.

"Sorry Sheriff, we didn't know that." said one of the two guards, embarrassed.

"Scarlett, come on, I've been waiting for you." said Aaron, holding out his arm.

She grabs his arm without hesitation and lets herself be dragged to the bar.

"I thought I couldn't go back. I didn't know it paid off." she said softly.

"I should have warned you, forgive me, but as I invite you, we have free rein." he said, looking at her.

"Fortunately you are Sheriff otherwise ... I will not have passed."

"Hehe, come on, come and have a drink."

"Since time. But I have no money ..."

"I'm the one paying, since I invited you." said Aaron with a charming smile.

While they were drinking, Aaron watched Scarlett from top to bottom.

"You're beautiful tonight, Scarlett ..." said Aaron, shyly.

"Oh… thanks… does that mean that on other days, I look like a rag?" she asks, suspicious.

"Huh? No, no, take it as a compliment! I'm sincere, now or on other days, you're ravishing."

"You have to say that to all the women you know."

"I'm not interested in other women, you mean the most to me tonight." he said, placing his hand gently against her shoulder.

Scarlett feels a shiver run down her back. Why was he doing this for her? She flees her gaze, not knowing what to do or how to react. In the distance, three women, provocatively dressed, call the Sheriff in the distance, then they start to walk towards him.

"Looks like you have company." whispers Scarlett to Aaron.

"Ooh dear Sheriff! You here? We weren't expecting it!" said one of them.

"Stay a little with you!" begs the other, resting her chest against him.

Aaron looked very embarrassed and couldn't help but blush.

"I would like to, but I'm already busy, ladies, but can you do us a favor?"

"Oooh? Which one?"

"Try to distract the guards, a little bit of your company would do them good." said Aaron, praying that it would work.

"Your desires are orders, Sheriff! Hihi! Come girls!" said one of them, jumping on the guards.

"Come on, Scarlett! Let's go outside!" said Aaron, taking her hand.

It was a diversion, the two of them rush out and sit at a table outside in the light of the lanterns.

"But why did you do this?" she asks, exhausted from this race.

"I didn't want to be locked up in this place with her crazy people… I saw that you were embarrassed. Outside, it's better, just you and me."

"Hehe, you're right, I was starting to suffocate, I don't like the crowd."

"I know it ... are you hungry?" he asks.

"Not too much ... Maybe a few aperitifs." she replies, touching her hair.

Once the aperitifs are there, Scarlett asks a question that was running through her head.

"Tell me ... Do you like what you do? Well, I mean, as a Sheriff." she asks.

"You know, being Sheriff was not a vocation for me." he replies, taking a square of cheese.

"What do you mean ?" Scarlett was starting to be interested.

"Since childhood, I had a dream, to go around South America. But I was brought back to reality by my father. I was very close to him, but the only one I did not like at his place was his authority and his arrogance. He himself was Sheriff before my turn, I had to be ready to succeed him because he was getting old. He said that traveling was for the gypsies and the Indians. instead, I saw the sea, as I told you before. The sea was my only comfort, I found peace. "

"It must be wonderful ..." sighs Scarlett, listening to him attentively.

"I will take you there, I promise you." he said, looking her in her eyes.

"You don't have to do this for me, there are other women who would dream of seeing the sea with you."

"You are the only woman I would like to take." he said, putting his fingers on Scarlett's hand.

She withdraws her hand a little, blushing.

"Why are you interested in me? I'm boring, and other women are better than me, they deserve you. One day, you will have to find a woman to be your wife."

Hearing this, Aaron wondered if it was the right time to tell him what he really felt for her. Suddenly, soft music cuts him off before a sound even comes out of his mouth. A slow… nothing better to get closer to the one who won his heart.

"Would you like to dance ?" he asks.

"I don't know how to dance ..." she replies, closing in on herself.

"Come, it's easy." he said, taking her hand.

They stand up and put his hands on her back.

"What are you doing ?" Scarlett jumps.

"Put your hands on my shoulders."

But being small, her hands land on Aaron's chest. Which makes him blush more and more.

"Let yourself be lulled and guided by me and the music." he whispers in her ear.

Scarlett was mesmerized by her words and her reassuring voice. She lets herself be entirely done. She sticks against him, Aaron felt like immense happiness in his heart and thousands of butterflies in his belly. Scarlett felt reassured in his arms, their dance turns into a passionate embrace. They cuddled for a long time until the music stopped.

"To answer your question before, I don't need to search among all the women who are here, because the only woman I love is in front of me." he said, taking her hand.

"Huh? What ... what did you say?"

Scarlett understood perfectly, but she refused to believe it. It was too much for her, she wanted to escape from this awkward moment. Aaron was waiting for her reaction.

"Um ... I think you are wrong, Aaron ... I am not the one you think ... or the one you want ..."

"Why do you say that ?" asks Aaron, who did not expect her reaction.

"Excuse me, I have to go back ..." she lets go of his hand and runs away.

Aaron is left alone and taken aback, what did he do wrong? He sets off in pursuit. She was opening her door.

"Scarlett! What did I do? Did I hurt you?" he wrote, joining her.

"Leave me alone, it's better for you and me that we each stay on our side. You have nothing to do with me." she said coldly.

"Scarlett, I don't understand, I just confessed that I love you! I thought that…"

"Well, think no more! You will never love me! I will make you suffer!" she writes.

Aaron didn't understand why she said that. He follows her to the kitchen.

"Get out of my house!" writes Scarlett, her eyes filling with tears.

"Scarlett, calm down… we can explain…" said Aaron, taking her in his arms.

Scarlett brutally pushes him away and grabs a knife, pointing it at him. Aaron steps back in fear.

"Ho! Scarlett! Put down that knife!"

"I will not make you happy! I am a monster! I will no longer trust a man!" she yells, hysterical.

Aaron closes the door to prevent his screams from attracting the attention of a villager.

"Scarlett, we can talk about it calmly, please, drop that knife." he said, advancing cautiously.

"Stop! Otherwise I will kill myself in front of you! I deserve it! I would rather die than surrender!" she said, turning the knife against her.

"SCARLETT !! No !!" he rushes over to her and grabs her wrist, removing the knife and letting it slide further to the ground.

"AAAH !! LEAVE ME! Kill me!" she yells, struggling.

Aaron holds her tightly in his arms until she calms down and she bursts into tears, falling to her knees, still in Aaron's arms.

"Shhhh ... calm down ... what's this story? Why should I stop you? Want to talk about it?" he asks silently.

She nods to say yes. He covers her with his coat and goes to the living room sofa.

"I don't come from here, actually. I'm from town. I was training with my mom so I was ready to inherit the business."

"I see ... but what is wrong with that?"

"In the meantime, I was forced to be with a man just to make me descendants. I was unable to conceive ... He ..." she stops in her sentence, feeling the tears come to her eyes.

"Shhhh, take your time ..." said Aaron, thinking about the worst that could have happened to her.

"He ... he raped me! Saying it's my fault ..." said Scarlett, bursting into tears.

Aaron was shocked by this revelation, he could never have thought of it, he cradled her in his arms.

"You know why I have this scar on my cheek? It was beating me too! One day, it was one time too many, it hit me again and ... I grabbed a knife, and ... I wanted to defend myself but I ... I stabbed him ... "she said, whispering the end of her sentence, still bursting into tears.

Aaron finally understood why she was so scared and that she never went out. He continues to listen to her.

"What happened next ?" he asks.

"I ... I was tried, but I was released because I used self-defense. Half defended me and the other called me a murderer ... I left town to settle here after the death of my mother. I prayed that no one would recognize me when I went outside ... I didn't want it to end like that. " Scarlett replies, drying her tears.

"I'm on your side ... you defended yourself and this junk deserved it, no one has the right to hit a woman!"

Scarlett was amazed that the Sheriff was part of her terrible past.

"You have to stop me ..." she said.

"No ... I won't do it. I understand why you don't trust me ... rather men ..."

"I ... I didn't say I don't trust you. I need time for that ... you're the only one who really seems to want to take care of me ..."

"For the moment, I will make sure that no one does you harm ... for my part, I will never harm you, I will never leave you, we will take our time." said Aaron, hugging her.

"Aaron ..." whispers Scarlett, hugging him too.

"You deserve happiness, everything you told me stays here, your secret will be ours." he said, looking at her.

Gently, he approaches her face, his lips brush against hers, Scarlett turns her head slightly, everything was going so fast for her. But she couldn't help smiling after this delicate gesture.

"I'll wait for you, Scarlett ... take the time it takes." said Aaron, taking her hand.

"You don't have to keep more secrets between us." he finished, kissing her forehead.

"I will come to see you as soon as I can." said Aaron, getting up.

"I prefer the night, I like it when you see me at that time." said Scarlett smiling, then she continues.

"And thank you again for trusting me."

Aaron turns around, he comes back to her, puts his two hands gently on her cheeks and kisses her tenderly. Scarlett remains frozen as if someone had cast a spell on her, she doesn't protest and relishes this kiss.

He breaks the kiss and says to her:

"I love you…"

Scarlett didn't know if she should answer him, she didn't want to rush, yet her feelings were mutual. She answers him with a simple smile and Aaron leaves in silence.

To be continued...

Part 2 :

[ideas-for-you-to-adopt]

I take after my Slytherin father - Hermione Granger x reader

A/N: Hey guys, I was in the middle of writing part 6 of Of Masks and Hatred when I got this idea for a Hermione Granger fic and I just had to write it. So here it is. This is set during the scene were Hermione rushed out of the Yule Ball. I'll probably post OMAH pt6 tomorrow or the day after. Or the day after that. Enjoy. You are a proud Slytherin. As the heiress of an Ancient and Noble House, you fit in best with the snakes. Your family's ancestry and wealth added to your intelligence, only surpassed by Gryffindor's Granger, has made you one of your House's top students alongside with Malfoy and the Greengass heiresses. However, at times you cannot feel but be disgusted by your own housemates especially the Malfoy scion who seems to lack the grace of the formerly Narcissa Black and the cunning of Lucius Malfoy . And so you have chosen to surround yourself with the likes of Blaise Zabini, Tracey Davis and Daphne Greengrass. You choose to evade all the drama the house rivalry brings you. Gryffindors. You've never really cared for them despite the incessant daily ramblings brought by Malfoy. It frustrates you to no end how his obsession with the golden trio especially one Harry Potter seems to be never-ending. And when you heard the tale of him calling Granger the m-word during your second year, you had to roll your eyes. Your family, despite being traditional, held no contempt for muggleborns. They chose to be neutral during the last war. You grew up to tales of your Ravenclaw mother about a certain muggleborn witch she used to be friends with. She would even tease your Slytherin father for having fancied the said witch during their tenure in Hogwarts. Of which your father would smoothly respond, "What can I say? Intelligence is an attractive trait. Look at you, my perfect Ravenclaw wife," to which your mother would blush as your father winks at you. You sometimes reason out that you have taken after your father, being proud of your traditions and heritage, it wasn't surprising that you got sorted into the House of snakes. But at the same time, you despise being so much alike with your father, for just like him, you are extremely besotted with the Brightest Witch of your Age. You're already on your fourth year and have been crushing on her for the last two years but because of house rivalry, you had already come into terms that you two would ever get together, not to mention that you think she's straight. You never approached her. Just like your father, you never acted on your feelings. But seeing her rush out of the Great Hall in such an emotional drastic state made you ran after her slowing down a bit to glare at the back of Ron Weasley's head. Head in hands, she did not look up as you approach her. "You shouldn't be crying, Granger." She wipes her eyes and look up to meet your gaze, only to gape in surprise but then shock turns to confusion before setting into a scowl. "Came to make fun of me? A supposedly 'brave Gryffindor' crying her eyes out," she huffs crossing her arms. You chuckle in amusement as you smile gently at her, making her seemingly more confused. "You shouldn't be crying, Granger," you repeat making her frown more. "It is appropriate for the loveliest girl tonight to cry her eyes red." She opens her mouth to say a snarky retort but closes it again realizing what you said was not an insult but rather a compliment. She grows silent as she tries to process your words. You take the moment to sit down beside her, leaving some space between the two of you. She looks at you as if she has never seen you before while you stare straight ahead listening to the sound of music reverberating from the castle walls. "Did you just pay me a compliment, L/N?" She looks at you in astonishment. "Why, yes. I did make my words clear, haven't I?" "But why?" "Why not?" "Because you're a Slytherin!" She stands up and paces as she starts rambling. "Slytherins are supposed to hate muggleborns. Your housemates even call me mudblood! And yet here you are telling me I'm the loveliest girl tonight." She stares at you in exasperation before crossing her arms again and looks at you calculatingly. "What are you playing at, L/N?" You can't help the pain in your chest as you look straight into her eyes. You had always been proud of being a Slytherin but hearing the judgment coming from the girl you had taken a liking to for the past two years hurt more than the words and judging looks you get from the other three houses for being a Slytherin. She must've seen your look falter because her gaze softened. You looked down and smiled faintly. You then close your eyes before looking at her with a stoic look that most Slytherins seem to perfectly use at all times. "Why must the mistake of one become the mistake of all? And why does one recent mistake make everyone forget all the goodness that has been done under the same name?" You ran your hand through the locks of your hair before standing up and fixing your dress. "I apologize if I had offended you in any way. I better take my leave." Before you can turn your back on her, you felt her hand on your arm causing you to look at her in confusion. "You seem different, L/N. And for the love of Merlin I don't like how your questions seem to make me think," she huffs out and heaves a sigh. "I'm sorry if what I said offended you. Care to stay and join me?" You couldn't help it. Not when she's looking at you so apologetic and hopeful. That's why you nod your head and join her as she sits back down. "So... what was that you said?" She asks meekly, previous sign of apprehension now gone. "Everybody sees as Slytherins as the House of Dark Wizards, of Death Eaters because of You-Know-Who. People tend to forget that we're more than that," you begin to explain. "Slytherin was a parseltongue and every parseltongue is known to be dark but people don't care that Indian parseltongues are revered and treated important in the society. We're labeled Death eaters and pureblood supremacists but people forget that even during the war, a lot of purebloods fled overseas instead of joining them. And not all purebloods hate muggleborns. Merlin, they forget Merlin himself was a Slytherin and he helped muggles!" "Wait! Merlin went to Hogwarts?" Hermione's eyes are now as wide as saucers. "Yes, he was," you chuckled. "I'm surprised the greatest witch of our age doesn't know. I figured you must've read it in the library by now." She slapped your arm making you laugh fully. "So you don't hate muggleborns? But you hangout with Malfoy!" You scrunched up your nose in disgust. "Merlin, no. We may sit across the table when at the Great Hall but that's because we're of equal stature. I prefer being with Daphne, Tracy, and Blaise. Oh and just to let you know, Tracey's mom is a muggleborn. I must say though, Malfoy gives our house a bad name. Tracy and I laughed so hard when we heard how you broke his nose last year." Of all things you expected from Hermione Granger, her blushing and fidgeting was not one of them. "He msut have really deserved it," you grin at her making her smile. "I never paved you to be so," Hermione trails off thinking of a fitting word. "You never knew I can laugh," you smirk at her. "No! That's not what I--" she groans seeing your smirk turn into an amused smile. "It's alright. I know what you mean. Tracey frequently complains how stoic the three of us can be," you shrug causing for her to chuckle. "Why though?" "Because we're Slytherins. We're supposed to be cunning. Wearing our hearts on our sleeves doesn't help." "Sounds like Slytherins are afraid of rejection," she lightly nudges her shoulder with yours before laughing but then she stops. Instead of laughing, you're gently smiling at her. "Can't be anymore true, Granger," you chuckle before you run your fingers through your hair. "My father, he was a Slytherin... he fancied a Gryffindor muggleborn witch before he met my mom. And he was so afraid of being rejected." "Wait, are you serious? A Slytherin and a Gryffindor?" "Serious as can be. My mother still teases him about it. Even comparing them to some Rodeo and Julien, whoever those are." "Romeo and Juliet, they were from rival families but they fell in love. It's a tragic but very romantic story. Star-crossed lovers." You try to listen as she rambles about how it's a classic muggle book but all you can focus on is how the moonlight seems to illuminate her face also making her dress seem to sparkle. Her sweet yet velvety voice sounding more beautiful than the music coming from inside. Your eyes land on her soft-looking pink lips as she speaks. When she finally stops, that's when you notice how close you two are sitting. Your arms touching and you can clearly hear her soft intakes of breath. "Hermione, can I call you that?" You ask to which she nods. "I don't know if tonight's enough to make you less wary of me for being a Slytherin but for what it's worth, the Sorting Hat claimed I could do well in Gryffindor" "Now that's.." you swear your eyes are playing tricks on you because you thought her gaze flicker down to your lips but then you figure it must've been the light "...unexpected." "Right now, what I'm about to do is extremely Gryffindorish but Merlin help me if I let my Slytherin side hold me back." You figured she was in shock when your lips met hers because not long afterwards, you could feel her lips moving against yours. What you didn't expect is to feel her hand slipping behind your neck and pulling you closer to her and taking the kiss deeper. You break the kiss only to see her smile at you, a hint of pink on her cheeks. "Well, how about bringing more of that Gryffindorish bravery out and taking me to Hogsmeade next weekend?" You nod as you mirror her smile before moving in for another kiss. You really take after your Slytherin father.

[myaekingheart]

So I’ve been having really intense dreams almost nightly for the past week, and then forgetting to document them, so here’s a shit ton.

May 4th

There was something about playing video games at some random girl’s house, but the details have since grown hazy.

And then I was five years old again. There was a magic school bus that would take you to different dimensions. The first trip we took, I was with an asthmatic boy who reminded me of Mikey from The Goonies, or my childhood best guy friend, or maybe a combination of the two. The bus took us to this pink mountain range, kind of like the one time space Kaguya sends Naruto, Sasuke, Sakura, and Kakashi during that fight arc in Shippuden. Another person joined us for the second trip, but I can’t remember where we went. The third time was the most memorable and the most haunting, though. We were on a field trip to some pavilion, and I had flashbacks to when I was a kid and we visited the Indian River Lagoon. Me and this boy and three other kids snuck off to the bus, or maybe it was four other kids so that the math I present next will add up, because when we got to the bus it turned out it had a capacity of only five. We tried to pile inside but it was like the bus knew how many kids were inside of it and the boy was automatically, magically outside somehow. Our teacher was Steve from Blue’s Clues and when he noticed what we were doing, he started to gradually lose his mind. He panicked when he saw us all on the bus, and then the bus started slowly moving through the parking lot, and then it began to shake as if revving up for interdimensional travel. By this point, he had sprinted across the parking lot and was outside screaming “OPEN THE DOOR! OH MY GOD, OPEN THE DOOR! OPEN THE GODDAMN DOOR!” banging on the door and the windows and just overall losing his goddamn mind. And then one of the windows shattered and broke the bus’s magic, effectively stopping us all. I don’t remember what became of us afterward.

May 5th

My boyfriend and I were in what was supposed to be the guest bedroom at my grandmother’s house. There was a mattress on the floor and a window at the furthest end of the back wall right next to the corner, and the view outside was that of a street. My boyfriend and I were sitting on the floor hanging out when a black man on a cell phone shows up a little too close to the outside window, and he looked sketchy just by the way he was dressed and presenting himself (almost like he was homeless), and I had no idea what he was doing there so I start to panic. I tell my boyfriend to get down so he can’t see us and we do. And then outside, another man shows up, an older white man with long greasy gray hair. He’s carrying what I’m assuming is a machine gun. He starts shooting. The bullets break the glass and start coming through the window. I’m assuming he likely killed the black man. My heart is racing and I know if we stay where we are, we’re going to die so I grab my boyfriend’s hand and race to the bedroom door but it was shut (it always was). I’m standing there trying to turn the knob as the bullets rain in but I’m freaking out and my palms are probably sweaty and my anxiety is getting the best of me and I can’t fucking get it to turn so I basically have to tell myself to calm the fuck down and concentrate and I eventually do finally get the door open.

This dream then fades into something about an old dream I had once about my grandmother’s master bathroom being connected to the guest bathroom by way of a door or a closet or something like that.

And then that transitioned into a really weird dream about walking to school. It was the same school that has appeared in my dreams many times before, some strange take on my high school that I’ve never seen in real life before. But anyways, I was walking through this neighborhood with the intention of getting to campus, only to soon realize I was being followed. Behind me was this nerdy girl with mousy brown hair, long and parted down the middle, and glasses, and her nose constantly stuck in a book. She had this very plain look about her, no makeup, not necessarily pretty but not ugly either. She kind of reminded me of a girl I knew back in middle school. But anyway, her presence only made me that much more nervous about all of this seeing as I had no real grasp of where the fuck I was going. At one point, when I was in what looked like an empty town square (there was a brick office building about three or four stories tall that kind of reminds me of downtown where I live currently), we ran into another group of students who were also walking to school. They were being led by who I can only assume was my most recent French teacher. She called after the nerdy brunette following me to tell her that she was going the wrong way and had to turn down the next street, therefore passive-aggressively telling me that I, too, was basically going the wrong way. I was left with an overall overwhelming sense of panic and frustration feeling as if I was completely lost and incompetent.

May 7th

I was on this weird, giant cruise ship, the inside of which resembled this mall that I kind of recognize appeared in a different dream from a while back. There was this princess procession, mainly girls dressed like Belle first, that I of course took great interest in. As it turned out, it was part of an audition for a local party princess company. Afterward, all of the girls auditioning left this little shop that the company was based out of. I was standing outside. One of the people who leaves the shop is Cory Nation who, if you’re active on TikTok most likely, posts a lot of Disney cosplay vids on there. So he’s standing outside this little shop as all of the other girls auditioning are leaving and I guess mistakes me for one of them as he comes over to me to tell me how I had done such a good job. I feel kind of awkward about it knowing full well I was not among these girls, and feel as I don’t deserve the compliment, but I don’t say anything about it. Later on, I end up going swimming with him and some others and we’re all in the ocean in full on mermaid tails swimming alongside this sidewalk that looks like a pool deck with lots of greenery in the background. On our way back afterward, I run into my mother who I guess at this point I hadn’t seen in a while and so I start walking along with her. She asked me if I had seen my wealthy aunt at all on the trip and I said no. Then just then as we turn the corner on the pool deck, there she is sitting in a lounger. The last thing I want is to get into a conversation with her, so to avoid the confrontation, I grab my mom by the wrist and start running, dodging other people and whipping around corners just to get away from this woman. Running leads us into this weird Alice in Wonderland type maze thing—I just remember finding our way into a small room made out of ivy-laced black wrought iron fencing that had this diorama windows inside like the ones you find on Main Street in Magic Kingdom. One of them was really bizarre, displaying something like a bunch of chibi Lumieres dressed like Belle? I don’t know, it was weird as fuck.

May 9th

The first dream was brief and kind of boring but I was at a bar and ran into my elementary school crush, who started flirting with me, and it was overall just very weird.

The second dream returned me to my childhood best friend’s house for some birthday party. I remember some sort of mermaid theme. Anyways, my childhood best friend and I haven’t spoken since middle school but we follow each other on social media so I see all of her shit and everything that goes on in her life. Everything about both of our lives at this point is completely separate, and that really shone through in this dream. I was back in this house that, as a child, I had considered a second home, but I was surrounded by people I didn’t know and I just overall felt very awkward and like I didn’t belng there. It was really jarring, especially scrolling through social media the next day and seeing a lot of posts from her.

May 10th

The first dream had me back in my creative writing class at my community college, or at least a version of it. I had forgotten my book. I remember sitting there only half-listening to the teacher as I tried to devise a plan to sneak out of the room with the smaller backpack that was inside my bigger backpack so I could get my book unnoticed. I excused myself to the bathroom. I remember slightly panicking inside a cramped stall as I reorganized my clothes-- I had a hoodie that I slipped on and a button down that I tied around my waist. I forget the rest.

The second dream was the most vivid and perhaps the most unnerving/surreal. I was in what was supposed to my grandmother’s neighbor’s house. This was based on my grandmother’s real life next door neighbor, a woman we’ll call Dolly, who died a couple months ago. She loved puzzles and her house always smelled kind of musty. When I was a kid, she bought me my first Webkinz, an elephant. But besides all that, in my dream I was in what was meant to be an iteration of her house. It was one of those sweeping two story homes that you’d expect an old person to live in. It was me, my grandmother, my parents, and a few other people (all anime characters: a knight with long blue hair in a ponytail, and his daughter who had matching blue hair and a dress, and then Jessie and James from Pokemon and their two canonically non-existent children) who were there, and the house was empty. Dolly, in the dream, had just recently died and I guess we were there to help clean out her things. There was a lot of dust and cat hair (even though she doesn’t have a cat) clinging to the staircase so I took it upon myself to wipe it all down. As I was cleaning, I came across what I had thought was a clump of dust sticking out from underneath one of the stair boards, so I forced it up to pull it out only to find Dolly’s lifeless, disembodied head. So of course I start freaking out, calling for everyone to come take a look at this shit. My mom almost immediately turned back around on the verge of vomiting. My grandmother lost her shit. My dad just kind of stood there calm as he could be and was just kind of like “Well that’s intense.” And the anime gang (save for the little girl, who was not there) kind of exchanged looks and then ultimately decided they could not do this and that they needed to leave. Then the scene switched and we were all outside. The backyard was a makeshift cemetery where patches of dead grass shaped like Christian crosses indicated where the dead were buried. A weird game was ensuing where there were two teams of three people, each run by an old man coach, and the goal was to see how many points each team could rack up by having people take turns kicking golf balls across a field. I was on a team with my boyfriend, who was a soccer player in the past so I remember thinking to myself “He’s got this,” with our captain an old stout man with a plaid newsboy hat on. He was probably from the UK somewhere, I’m thinking Scotland. The other team was led by a rather crotchety old man in a suit, and I don’t remember any of the other members except for a little baby no older than two. The baby was the one I was up against. I gave a decent kick of the golf ball, and then it was the baby’s turn to go but she just kind of waddled around off in her own world, so the crotchety old man took matters into his own hands. He picked up the golf ball and launched it across the field on his own, which made the Scotsman incredibly angry. He started fuming, grabbing a shovel and threatening to dig up one of the corpses, I’m assuming Dolly. Chaos ensued. Everyone started running around and screaming “Don’t do that!” And then next thing I know, I’m on the ground staring into a hole where a corpse had been buried, and all along the dirt wall leading downward were tiny doors in dark muted colors with gold plated numbers, like apartment doors for a dollhouse. And then the next scene saw us all sitting around the staircase staring at this disembodied head, which we had quickly discovered was fake. A hyper-realistic rubber head. Someone, maybe it was myself, made a comment about “Well, you know Dolly and her dolls.” Someone else demonstrated the way you could see the cross-section of the different layers where the neck was, and how you could take the head apart to study each layer. For the last scene, I was outside of my own body watching from afar as the anime group trekked past the house at a great distance through deep snow, feeling unresolved and yet as if they did what they had needed to do. The little blue haired girl, the knight’s daughter, suspected nothing, but everyone else was relatively forlorn.  

[honeylikewords]

agent andy’s super secret, super special, super spy romance-love-extravaganza mission! (andy dwyer)

(this was not really a request, but just a spur-of-the-moment work! it’s dedicated to my lovely friend @regrettablewritings!)

(the basic plot is Andy doing what he does best- being goofy and loveable! but this time, in pursuit of a lovely lady friend’s attentions! will he succeed? will he fail? will he eat chili dogs? find out below!)

(warnings: none!)

yes, you're lovely, with your smile so warm and your cheeks so soft there is nothing for me, but to love you and the way you look tonight you look hot tonight... 

Andy likes a lot of things. Top five favorite things in the world? Well, that list depends on what day you ask him, when in the day you ask him, how hungry he is, what the last TV show he watched is, if he’s seen any cool dogs that day-

To say the least, Andy is both the most fickle and most loyal man in all of Pawnee. His tastes are both constant and assured while also shifting with the rapidity of the winds of a hurricane. He’s all over the place, like a hyperactive puppy in a room full of chew toys.

But the one thing he consistently likes, always, all the time, every day, every night, and every evening in-between is the girl who works as an intern in the Pawnee Municipal Hall of Records. 

Her office is on the second floor and Andy likes to pretend to have a “shoe shine-ist appointment” with someone in the city clerk’s office so he can have a reason to wander up to the second floor and walk past the door to the room where she works.

Today is a Wednesday, which means Andy has his lucky boxers on from when the Colts won against the Cowboys, and his special blue-checkered flannel shirt which his mother told him makes him look “adult for once”, which is a very nice compliment, in his opinion. Before heading upstairs, he stands in front of the bathroom mirror in the men’s room and combs his hair over as neatly as he can with his big hands, smiling at himself.

He has a Food And Stuff grocery bag with him which rests on the lip of the sink as he finishes slicking his unruly hair into place, and he clears his throat in the mirror, practicing his most adult, suave smile; the one where all his teeth are visible but not in a creepy way, and one eyebrow is raised in what he believes to be a seductive manner. He makes a small growl between his teeth and practices what he’s going to say to the girl.

“Why hello-oo, my lady,” he drawls, bowing slightly in the mirror. “You’re looking very… lovesome today.” Nice, he thinks to himself. Sexy, but not too sexy.

“May I ask for you- thou-” he corrects himself- “-To join me uponth this, um… evening… to dinner?”

As he’s trying to formulate what he’ll do when she answers him, a stall door behind him opens and Ben walks out, looking at Andy with confusion written into his furrowed brow. Andy blushes, a little embarrassed, and glares at Ben.

“Bro,” he chides, “You can’t just walk in on me while I’m practicing!”

“But I- I was in here before-” Ben stumbles over himself, looking around in flustered panic, then seems to give up with a sigh. “Yeah, sorry, didn’t mean to burst your bubble there, Andy. Go ahead, pretend I was never here.”

“Well, I can’t really do that, seeing as how I can still see you and I remember you being here so… now I have to wipe my brain and start all over.” Andy turns back to the mirror and watches Ben leave, exasperatedly mumbling to himself as he walks out into the hallway.

When the room is finally clear, Andy stands up in the mirror and takes one last look at himself. He looks at his beard- thankfully, he trimmed it last week so it’s not scraggly or full of Cheetos particles (well, at least, not as many Cheeto particles as before)- and then looks at his face. He looks into his own hazel eyes, the ones that squint a little but still seem so wide and excited. He flashes himself a giddy smile when he thinks about what he’s about to do, and his whole aura seems to grow brighter.

He feels the warm, glowy feeling inside his stomach and chest, the one that tingles down into his fingertips and toes and a little into his butt; the feeling that makes his heart feel like he’s just watched the Colts win the Superbowl, or just played a great show with Mouse Rat. The feeling in his heart that he gets when he thinks about her, and the way she looks when she smiles back at him, or how she gets so focused on her files at her desk and her eyebrows knit together in that cute way.

Deciding that he’s ready, Andy nods at himself in the mirror and says his last words of the pep talk he’s been giving himself in his head.

“You got this, Dwyer. And if you don’t, then Burt Macklin’s got it. And if he doesn’t got it, then, uhm, Johnny Karate’s got it. And if he- oh, nevermind. You’ve got this.”

He grins wide, then ducks out of the bathroom, grabbing his Food And Stuff bag as he makes for the stairs, heart pitter-pattering as frantically as it does when he’s done too many jumping jacks or tried to eat too many hamburgers at once. Reaching the top of the steps, Andy takes a deep breath, both to calm himself and because he did actually get a little winded. Once reassured of his ability to breathe, Andy makes his way to the door to the Hall of Records.

Stopping just before the door, Andy peeks his head, nose resting on the edge of the doorframe in what he thinks is a sneaky, subtle spying position. He can see her clear as day, and the sight of her brings an unintentional smile to his face and makes his childlike heart flutter happily.

She is illuminated from behind by the open windows, the ones streaming in the summer sunlight and warm breeze. A portable fan sits on the corner of her desk, blowing cool air onto her face and stirring up with wispy hairs that frame her pretty eyes, and Andy makes a happy sigh to himself when she adjusts her seat in her chair, turning so that he can see more of her face.

Her eyes are focused on an open file on her desk, one that she is tracing over with a highlighter, and Andy follows the movements of her hands with rapt attention, forgetting his awkward stance in the doorway. He instead watches her do all her little things, the tiny, miniscule motions that would go unnoticed to anyone that didn’t absolutely, wholeheartedly, entirely love her.

He notices how her fingers tap on the bridge of the highlighter. He notices how her other hand supports her neck, loosely rubbing at the baby hairs at the back of her head as she gives herself a small neck massage. He notices the movement of her eyes and the blinking of her lashes, and how her lips part when she breathes. He notices the tapping of her practical-shoed feet under the desk, and how her ankles cross to keep her comfortable in the office chair. Andy sees it all, and tucks it away in the special part of his brain that never forgets.

Andy may have been called a lot of things- things like birdbrained, a goldfish, a dumb sack of rocks- but he does remember things. Important things. Like the 1992 lineup for the Indianapolis Indians. And all the police procedures he’d read about. And his dog’s birthday. And this girl’s middle name, favorite foods, the way she takes her coffee (and how she takes her tea on the days when coffee makes her feel sick), and the movies she wants to see this summer.

He remembers everything about her because it matters to him. All the other stuff that he forgets? Bah, that’s stuff that he doesn’t care about. But all these teeny-tiny things about her mean the world to him, so he will never, ever forget them.

Just as he’s about to make his happy, lovestruck smile as he remembers the first time they’d ever spoken, she looks up from her work and meets his eye. And he’s a goner. He grins at her, making a wave as he silently mouths “watch this!”

Which is when he tucks himself in to do an army roll down the hall, moving across the doorway without entering. He hears her sit up and lean across the desk, calling “Andy?” nervously. He reaches into his grocery bag and grabs the first item: a paper airplane.

From his position on his stomach on the floor, Andy sticks his head back into the doorway and squints one eye as he lines up the paper airplane, then tosses it right at her desk, grinning wildly. He waits and watches her catch it, then rolls back out of her line of view.

“Andy, what’s-” “SHH!”

He rolls back in only to hold his finger over his lips, playfully shushing her. He points at the airplane then motions for her to open it up, smiling the whole time.

“We can’t talk,” he whispers. “The scene’s been compromised by Russian agents!”

She blinks at him, then smiles, rolling her eyes but nodding along, opens the airplane. Andy waits to watch her reaction, nervous butterflies bursting in his stomach. Her eyes scan over the page, reading over his messy scribble in Sharpie that reads “Do You Accept This Mission, Secret Agent Codename: Beautiful Mess?”

When she looks up, Andy feels his face get hot, and his armpits feel sweaty, and suddenly he wishes he was a million miles away, not laying here on the dusty tiles of the second floor of the Pawnee City Hall building. But then she smiles and nods, giving him a silent thumbs up, and he grins, floating on cloud nine.

He fishes into his bag and grabs the hard plastic of a CD case, then slides it across the floor to her. She stops it with her shoe and leans down to grab it from under her desk, reading the label he’s put on it.

“PLAY ME,” screams the CD. She pops it out of the case and slips it into the CD-ROM port on her office computer, eyeing him with a wry smile on her lips. He grins back, watching her for even the slightest hint of her feelings.

She clicks her mouse and opens the program to play the CD, and out of her speakers comes Andy’s own voice, blasting as he had leaned too close to the microphone.

“Agent Beautiful Mess,” Andy mumbles in his most serious spy voice, “I have a very important mission for you. A VIP mission. Very Important… Pizza… (no, shit),” he had whispered. “(What’s a good P word, Derek?)” A second voice from elsewhere in the room at the time of recording chimed in. “Pepperoni.” “No, a spy word!”

Andy blushes as he realizes that he did not edit his conversation with Derek out of the recording that he has just gifted to the girl he has a massive, huge, soul-smashing crush on. But as the embarrassment floods his face, Andy watches hers, and sees that she doesn’t look annoyed, or pissed off, or bored.

She looks… happy.

She starts to giggle, covering her mouth with one hand as she listens to Andy and Derek bicker back and forth about the best word that starts with P to include in the description. After about two minutes of unresolved sniping, Andy gave up and went back to his original intent in the recording.

“ANYWAY,” he announced. “The mission is… to gather all the tools from Agent Jean Claude Van Damme- that’s not the real Jean Claude Van Damme, by the way, but the codename for me- and then accomplish the mission that will be handed to you in the final tool. Good luck… this message will self destruct in five… four… three… two… one… KA-BLOOSH, BUH-SHEW, BLAM BLAM BLAM, BBBBRRRR-”

After the recording stops playing Andy’s homemade explosion sound effects, the girl behind the desk looks at Andy, shaking her head playfully, a massive smile plastered to her face. That smile makes Andy feel dizzier than a case of shoeshine head.

He grins back at her, as happy as a kindergartener at recess. She motions for him to slide her the next “tool to her mission” and he happily reaches into the Food And Stuff bag, pulling out a bag of Skittles and a bag of Starbursts.

Andy throws them to her, both bags managing to land on her desk. They are labeled “PART ONE” and “PART TWO”, and the Starbursts bag has a sticky note on it.

“COMBINE ONE SECRET PILL WITH TWO TABLETS TO CREATE THE POWER SERUM,” reads the note.

She starts laughing, and Andy can’t help but join her. He ignores the annoyed stares of strangers walking past him in the hallway, focused only on her happy smile, and the way her voice sounds as it bounces up and down with joy. When she stops laughing, Andy points at the bags and uses his hands to gesture to her the act of opening and eating, so she does it.

She takes out two Starbursts and a Skittle and smushes them together in the right way, making a little sandwich with the Skittle in the middle, properly forming “Andy’s Mouth Surprise”. When she’s completed it, she holds it up and wiggles it at him, showing him her accomplishment. He gives her an enthusiastic thumbs up, then signs to her to eat it, making oversized chewing motions with puffed out cheeks and an exaggerated swallow.

Following suit, she eats the candy, taking her time chewing it and choking a little as she laughs at Andy’s ridiculous expressions. When she’s done, she holds her arms up and flexes like a WWE wrestler, showing off her guns. Andy silently applauds, and when she winks at him, his stomach explodes with lovey-dovey fireworks.

Andy crawls into a kneeling position and reaches into the bag for the final object, throwing it at her feet with reckless abandon. God, he hopes with works. He crosses his fingers and watches her confusedly look down at the mass of feathers and hot glue currently on her desk.

He has hot glued two plastic birds from Food And Stuff together, the tips of their wings fused as if they are holding hands. To the legs of one of the birds he has tied a note, which she unspools and reads, her face going from incredulous smile to a softer, more surprised expression.

The tension comes back into Andy’s muscles, and he can feel his chest and stomach and arms and palms start to sweat and itch with anxiety. The bad feelings make him sweaty, and he’s so worried that she’ll say no that he doesn’t know what to do except crouch in the doorway, forgetting his superspy routine to just watch her.

His fingers fidget with the drawstrings of his shoeshine apron as he remembers the words he’s written for her.

“Agent Beautiful Mess:

Your mission, should you choose to accept it, is…

…

…

To go…

With Agent Jean Claude Van Damme…

On a romantical date…

Today, or tomorrow, or whatever works for your schedule. Agent Van Damme is very flexible and has, like, nothing to do after work, so he can do whatever you’re down for whenever.

Sincerely, love,

Agent JCVD.

(P.S. this is Andy.)”

She’s too quiet, Andy worries, picking at the loose threads of the apron. She’s not reacting or saying anything. She’s just re-reading the words, and Andy can feel his once-light heart sinking to the bottom of his sneakers. He should’ve known. No girl like that- smart, pretty, kind, funny, and super hot and also good at pretty much everything she does- would ever look at a stooge like him. And he’s not even a funny stooge, like Larry, Moe and Curly. He’s just a regular stooge.

But then she picks up the fused birds, admiring them for a moment before gently kissing the head of one of the birds. Oddly enough, it’s the bird that Andy thought of as himself, making the other bird her. She sets the birds down and scoots back her chair from the desk, standing up, and Andy stands up too, nervous.

He says nothing as she comes up to him, and as he stands at his full height of 6’2”, he suddenly realizes how small she feels next to him. And he realizes how much he likes that. Andy wants to pick her up and carry her in his arms in a big, tight hug: one that would never let her go.

She looks up at him with her soft, sweet eyes, and Andy swallows a thick lump in his throat, his breath coming in shorter.

“Are you mad?”

Looking taken aback, the girl Andy has fallen for puts a hand to her chest, shaking her head.

“No, no, Andy, why would you think that?”

“Well, you didn’t say anything and when people don’t say anything I get really worried and then I start talking a lot because I feel like I have to so that other people don’t get worried too and I really want you to like me because I really like you in a romantic kinda way and I wanna hold your hand and-”

She presses up on her tiptoes and puts her plush lips to his, and Andy suddenly can’t remember anything in the world except that she feels exactly like how he’d hoped she would. She’s supple and smooth and smells amazing (a little sweaty from the summer heat, a little floral from her shampoo, and a lot like sugar-fruits from the candy), and her mouth tastes like Starbursts and Skittles and his daydreams.

When they break, her hands remain on his chest and his grip her waist, his head spinning faster than the tilt-a-whirl at the county fair that he’d thrown up on back in eighth grade. He can’t breathe, but instead just stands there, frozen.

One of his hands moves up to her face, thick thumb parsing over the hill of her cheek as he cups her jaw. His fingers touch her hair and he stares at her, mouth hanging open. He can’t stop studying her face, because he doesn’t want to forget a single instant of this amazing, life-changing moment. He wants to remember every detail; he wants to remember every hair on her head, every spot on her face, every lash around her eyes, every breath out of her. He wants to remember everything in vivid Technicolor forever and ever, and store it away in the special part of his brain that never, ever, ever forgets.

“Andy? Are you- did I upset you?”

Her voice crackles with concern, and Andy’s reverie breaks; he’s been quiet for too long. He’s made her worry, just like he worried over her. Damn.

“No way. No way, not ever, no- I- would you- can you do that again?”

She giggles, putting her own hand on his beardy cheek and scratching it softly (in the back of his mind, Andy imagines that this must be why dogs love being petted). Looking up at him, she nods and stands up on her tiptoes again, hovering just over his mouth.

“You kiss me this time,” she murmurs. “Just so I know I’m not, like, forcing myself on you.”

“Wouldn’t mind even if you did,” Andy replies dreamily.

And then he kisses her back, one hand holding her face and pulling her in close, one hand on her waist to keep her steady and stable. He doesn’t care that they’re in a government building and could very likely get scolded hardcore for this. He doesn’t care that anyone could walk by and see them. Hell, he hopes someone does, so that way everyone knows: Andy got the girl of his dreams. He’s got her, right there, in his arms, her lips on his lips, and he doesn’t intend to let go.

They part for a second time, and Andy feels dizzy, but in a good way, like after he’s taken medicine for his cold and he’s fuzzy and sleepy and warm. He feels contentedly feverish, and like everything in the world makes sense. He feels like he could write a hundred and one love songs and still have ideas for a hundred and one more. Or maybe just a hundred, since two hundred and two love songs is a lot. But he’d love her even more than the words of two hundred and two (give or take) love songs could ever convey.

“So,” he breathes, giggling. “Is that… a yes to the date?”

“Yeah,” she smiles back. “Yeah, it definitely is.”

In that moment, Andy doesn’t need to be a spy, an FBI agent, a ninja or anything else to be happy. He has everything he needs right there in his arms, looking back up at him with the same excited, gleeful glimmer in her eyes.

And, wow, is she beautiful.

[xxredwineandambiencexx]

Sooo I missed out on Klarolineauweek because I was in the process of moving house and unfortunately my new house didn’t have wifi yet :( Anyway I did promise some Klaroline, so here’s what would have been my contribution for day 1- Crossovers and Fusions. I recently reread the Luxe Series by Anna Godberson and was inspired!

“I’m not entirely sure that you should be doing that inside.” She directs towards the dark haired beauty reclining elegantly on one of the chaise chairs, a lacquered ebony cigarette holder perched between perfectly manicured fingers.

Katerina Petrova lolls her head lazily to the side, dark gaze fixing upon her in that intense way of hers that made her feel out of step.

Katerina was the oldest daughter of the wealthy Petrova family, an old European name that had been around for hundreds of years. They were ennobled aristocracy back in Bulgaria, but it had been Katerina’s great grandfather that had secured the family fortune with a rather large success with shipping.

Katerina was never afraid of displaying her wealth, nor flaunting the rules if it served her. Smoking- a vulgar habit for young ladies of their breeding and upbringing, was only done in secret places, not in the parlour of a well established mansion on Park Avenue.

“Relax a little Forbes. God you can be so uptight sometimes.” Katerina drawls in the odd accent that is part American part Bulgarian. The other girl returned to Bulgaria at least once a year, and usually acquired a somewhat stronger accent while she was there. It took her some weeks to lose it. “Are you sure you don’t want one?”

Katerina offers her the embossed tin, the Petrova family crest evident on the expensive metal.

She shakes her head in refusal, because honestly her mother would murder her.

“I think my mother would dig my grave for me if she smelt the smoke on me.” She replies lightly with a quick smile for Katerina, pink lined lips quirking just slightly as she scrunches her nose.

It’s with languid movements that Katerina stands, the folds of her waist skirt draping elegantly towards her feet as she moves towards the window, already cracked open to offer some reprieve from the Indian Summer they’d been experiencing recently.

She just fans herself with the ivory handled fan her father had brought back from Paris for her. Bill Forbes might not always be around to spend time with her and her mother, but he was there when it counted, and he brought the most exquisite gifts.

Katerina leans out the window, shoulders and neck exposed to the sun as she takes another lazy puff of her cigarette.

If she’s being honest with herself, she’s still not quite sure why Katerina had chosen her of all people to be friends with. Her family were new money, having only just recently made their fortune with oil, and she knew that them moving into Park Avenue into the obscenely big mansion had caused an absolute scandal.

Perhaps that was what had attracted Katerina. The other girl, older than her by only a year, had always seemed to have a wildness in her that was alluring and alarming all at once. There was no end to the suitors knocking on Katerina’s door, except she only seemed to have eyes for one man- Elijah Mikaelson.

He was the eldest son of the Mikaelson family, set to take over the family business when his father was ready to step aside. The Mikaelson’s were from England originally, but had very quickly established their places in the New York power set.

They threw the best parties, had the most expensive clothes, and the biggest house. She’d met Elijah only once, and Rebekah a few times, although she knew that the blonde Mikaelson absolutely loathed her for some reason that she still couldn’t quite figure out.

“God this weather is horrendous.” Katerina comments with a sigh, pressing her hand to a flushed cheek as she stubs the cigarette out on the window sill, sweeping the ashes out into the air and wiping any residue away. “I do hope it cools down a little later.”

“You’re eating into your preparation time.” She points out teasingly as Katerina rolls her lined eyes towards her.

“I’m well aware of that Caroline darling. But how else was I supposed to spend time with you? You’ve hardly had a moment to spare lately. What on Earth has that mother of yours roped you into?”

She stands, smoothing down the front of her own skirt.

“Finding me an eligible husband it would seem. At 21 I’m practically a spinster in her eyes.”

Katherine just sighs, slipping her cigarette holder and tin into the purse she carries around her wrist.

“You are absolutely not a spinster, and there is a dashing young gentlemen out there for you somewhere. Perhaps you’ll meet your match tonight, at the ball.”

She had been surprised to receive that invitation in the mail. The Mikaelson’s parties had been legendary in the past, but a slight altercation with an intoxicated Rebekah at the previous one had led her to believe that she’d be barred from the guest list forever more.

It had only been Kol’s intervention that had saved her from a rather embarrassing scene, steering his sister away with an apologetic smile.

She snorts, a rather unladylike gesture all things considered.

“Yes I’m sure a handsome Prince Charming will come and sweep me off my feet.” She pretends to swoon as Katerina catches her, a familiar routine for both of them whenever they make a mockery of the society that they’re forced to be a part of. “What was the reason for this particular party anyway?”

“The prodigal son returns.” Katerina drawls. “Niklaus. He finished his schooling last year and was doing a world tour. Now he’s in New York doing god only knows what.”

“Do we know anything about him?” She asks curiously, because she had no idea that there was another Mikaelson running around.

“Tall, blonde, a bit of a bad boy if any of the rumours are true, which they usually are.” Katerina leads the way towards the front door to where carriage would be no doubt waiting to spirit her away to her own mansion.

“Are they?” She arches an eyebrow, well aware of the rumours that seem to follow around Katerina Petrova like a grey raincloud.

Katerina just turns and gives her a slow, smouldering wink.

The party is in full swing when she and her mother arrive, her father choosing to stay in for the night to get some more work done.

Her mother, looking resplendent in a gown of grey, sticks to her side like glue, hissing at her to stand up straight and put her chest out so as to display her best assets.

“No one is going to marry you if you slouch like a serving maid.” Her mother had admonished her on more than one occasion.

She can't help but roll her kohl lined eyes to the ceiling silently, moving forward into the party silently, skirt fishtailing dramatically behind her.

The cerulean colour she’d chosen for her gown was in stark contrast to the muted pastels that the other young ladies of her set chose to wear, Elena Gilbert among them.

The girl had recently celebrated her engagement to Stefan Salvatore, who everyone agreed was much more amiable than his older brother, Damon.

Even Katerina, so resplendent tonight in her scarlet red gown, had harboured a brief period of affection for the youngest Salvatore, before discovering what a complete and utter bore he was.

“I’m going to pay a visit to Mrs Lockwood.” Her mother admits grudgingly, gathering her skirts in one gloved hand before moving off to greet the woman in question, the matriarch of the formidable Lockwood family.

Blessedly alone, she makes a beeline for Katerina, who gives her an approving once over accompanied by a wink.

“Ms Forbes you look lovely as always. A new gown?” Katerina asks knowingly, fan fluttering elegantly next to her face to ward off the sticky heat.

“Direct from Paris. A gift from my father.”

Katerina fingers the material of her skirt between gloved fingers.

“Exquisite. And no sign of the mysterious Niklaus I’m afraid. I must admit I am rather curious to see if the handsome features run in the family.”

“Elijah not here tonight?” She asks innocently of Katerina, who just gives her a smirk.

“I saw him earlier. So much easier to slip away unnoticed when everyone’s attention is focused on darling Elena and her oblivious fiance. Honestly he’ll die of boredom before he dies of old age.” Katerina drawls, gaze landing on the lady in question, who was beaming with happiness across the room, Stefan on her arm.

“Don’t be unkind Kat.” She admonishes her friend gently, with a soft rap of her fan on the other girl’s wrist. “As long as she’s happy. He certainly seems to be.”

She and Elena had been friends once, before Elena had been sent away to France for finishing school and had become obsessed with becoming a lady and being good mannered.

They’d lost touch while she’d been in France, and Elena had been somewhat wary of her friendship with Katerina since she’d returned.

Katerina just rolls her eyes with a teasing smile.

As the night wears on, she finds herself caught up in the arms of many of the young men who made up their set, the young and the rich, one of whom her mother would expect her to make a match with.

Tyler Lockwood with his handsome features was charming as always, if not a little insincere with his compliments as they waltzed together. Matthew Donovan, heir to the Donovan fortune, was kind if not a little shy as he offered her a drink.

Katerina commanded most of the attention in the room, Elijah at her side. They certainly painted a handsome picture, and she expected an engagement announcement would be imminent, if the satisfied smile on her best friend’s face was anything to go by.

“May I have this dance?” An unfamiliar voice at her side causes her to turn, and then look up into the face of the tall, sandy blonde haired man who was looking at her expectantly.

“Of course.” She replies, placing her gloved hand into his waiting one. “I must admit however, that I don’t think we’ve been previously acquainted.”

He just smiles to himself as they take their place on the floor, his hand on her waist, the other squeezing her hand tightly.

“Niklaus Mikaelson at your service, my lady. And you are?” He replies, a single eyebrow raised as they begin to move together.

“Caroline Forbes.” She replies after a beat or two. “So you’re the reason why this party is taking place. I suppose a welcome home is in order.”

“Had I known that there were such beautiful ladies waiting, I would have hastened to return sooner.”

It’s a line, and an obvious one. She can’t help but let out a short burst of laughter.

Niklaus wrinkles his nose at her outburst.

“Too obvious?” He asks innocently, even though he knows exactly what he’s doing.

“Maybe just a little.” She replies as he twirls her suddenly. She allows the movement, enjoying the feel of her skirt fanning out around her legs. “How was your tour?”

The far off locales beyond the shores of America had always held a certain sense of mystique for her. While she’d been to Paris once with her father, she’d not ventured beyond that.

She’s surprised at how easy it is to fall into conversation with him as they dance, the rest of the room seeming to melt away around them.

He’s not what she expected. He seems genuine and charming, a warm smile in his face and a somewhat mischevious twinkle in his eye as he steals her for the next dance, and then the next. She can practically feel the disapproving gaze of her mother burning into the back of her neck as he continues to twirl her under the brightly lit chandelier.

Perhaps realising the impropriety of his behaviour, he steps away from her after the music fades away, sweeping her a low bow before melting into the crowd.

It’s only when she disappears that she realises just how much her heart is racing.

“Well, it seems like you and Niklaus got along swimmingly last night.” Katerina hits her over the head with a pillow as she groans and pulls the duvet over her head.

Katerina had always been an early riser, herself less so. She’d come to accept that she was never going to be a morning person, and since society deemed it perfectly acceptable for her to lay in bed for hours the day after a big party then she wasn’t going to fight it.

“Go away Kat.” She swats at her best friend, who remains frustratingly persistent, ripping the duvet away from her face and exposing her to the weak daylight filtering through the still shut curtains.

Her maid would be here any moment with chocolate and iced water, but she can’t bring herself to even want either of them at this point.

Katerina wrestles her to a sitting position, a newspaper tucked under her arm.

“Don’t you want to see what the papers are saying?” Katerina begins, shaking out the paper with a dramatic gesture.

“Not particulary.” She replies bluntly.

She’d been subject to a few mentions in the newspaper, most positive, some less than favorable.

Katerina clears her throat, glancing down at the paper.

“Last night saw the return of Niklaus Mikaelson to New York City after a period abroad. Welcomed back into the fold of New York’s elite, he seemed particularly enamoured with a certain blonde beauty  who is favourite here at the Times…”

“Ugh.” Is all she says in reply as Katerina raises a perfectly arched brow.

“Please, he’s one of the most eligible bachelors in New York, at a marrying age, and obviously attracted to you, if the way that he was devouring you with his eyes last night was anything to go off.” Katerina remarks knowingly.

A gentle tap on the door announces the presence of her maid, who moves almost silently into the room, depositing her water and chocolate onto her night stand with a shy smile.

“Thankyou Claire.” She murmurs with a nod of her head, the other girl blushing under the attention of her mistress.

“I’ve been instructed to give you this Miss Caroline.” Claire replies, bobbing her a short curtsey before reaching into the pocket of her apron, producing an envelope with her name scrawled on it in elegant cursive.

“Thank you.” She repeats once more, taking the envelope.

Claire beats a hasty retreat as Katerina snuggles in next to her.

“Go on then.” The other girl jabs her in the ribs with a sharp elbow.

She opens the envelope, taking out the two pieces of paper folded within.

The first is a rather impressive likeness of her, her head thrown back in laughter, her profile sharp and clearly defined.

The second is just  a sentence or two of elegant writing, but it’s enough to make her heart beat faster in her chest.

Caroline,

It was enchanting to meet you last night. I hope we have reason to cross paths again very soon.

Yours,

Niklaus

[jamiemac26]

Our Album - Part Two

Catch Me - By JamieMac

A Taron Egerton FanFiction - Our Album Masterlist

     “Wait, you did what?” Liv stared at her friend dumbfoundedly.

“I gave him my number. Stop looking at me like that. You’re the one constantly telling me that I need to ‘grow a pair’ and take chances. I took your advice and made a move.” Hayden picked at her fingernail polish, rolling her eyes at the look on Olivia’s face.

Liv shook her head, smiling slightly, “I gotta say Hayden, I am impressed. I truly didn’t think that you had it in you.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” Hayden tossed a pillow in her friend’s direction.

The girls were curled up on the couch of their tiny apartment. It had been several days since the night at the bar, and Hayden had finally managed to work up the nerve to tell Olivia about her phone number hand off. She was a little disappointed that he hadn’t called but if she were honest with herself, she wasn’t that surprised.

“He hasn’t called yet though.”

Liv slide over, placing an arm around Hayden, “He’ll call.”

“How can you be so sure?”

Liv placed her head on Hayden’s shoulder, “Because I saw the way the looked at you that night. He’ll call. He’s probably just been busy or he’s working up the courage to call you.”

“Like a guy like that needs to work on his courage.” Hayden scoffed.

“It’s quite possible that he’s just as insecure about asking girls out as you were about giving him your number. He may be hot, but that doesn’t automatically mean he’s cocky. Take this as a good sign.” Liv reached for the remote, filling the small space with the glow of the television.

     Hayden turned the key in the lock, pushing open the heavy door to her apartment. It had been a long day at work and she wanted nothing more than to pour herself a glass of wine, kick off her shoes and curl up with a good movie. Olivia was out of town for the weekend, visiting her parents, so for the rare occasion, Hayden had the place to herself. Her heels lay in a pile by the door. She had a glass in her hand and a wine bottle tucked underneath her arm.  She flopped down on the soft cushions, pulling a blanket up over her lap. As she was reaching for the remote, the trill of her cell phone forced a groan from her throat. She set the glass and bottle down on the coffee table, pushing herself up. She dug through her purse, finally pulling the small device from its confines. A text message notification stretched across the screen. It was from a number she didn’t know. She slide her finger across the glass, letting her see the entire message.

Unknown Number: Hey. Sorry bout not texting sooner. Wondering if youre busy tonight?

Hayden: Who is this?

Unknown Number: Oh shit my bad. Its Taron.

Hayden: Oh hey.

Hayden glanced back at her couch. The bottle of wine called to her and her body ached for the softness of the blanket wrapped around her body. But, he’d finally gotten a hold of her. She’d be stupid to pass up on his invitation, right?

Hayden: Actually, you’ve caught me on a good night. Olivia is out of town so I’m in need of some good company.

She sent the text. “Oh god,” She mumbled to herself, slapping her palm against her forehead. “Way to sound desperate Hayden.” She took a deep breath, waiting to see if her reply had warded him off. Her phone quickly chimed back at her, and she released the breath hadn’t realized she’d been holding.

Taron: Awesome! Meet me at the same bar from the other night in about an hour.

Hayden: Okay, see you then.

     Hayden: OMG Olivia!! He just texted me.

Hayden shot off the text to her friend as she walked down the hall to her bedroom. Now came the decision on what to wear. “Oh be real Hayden. You’re gonna wear what you always wear.” She pulled a pair of dark skinny jeans from her closest, along with her favorite shirt. It laced in the front, and hung softly off her shoulder. She wiggled into the jeans. She pushed the door to the bathroom open and switched on the light. She stared at herself in the mirror. She looked tired, like it had been a long week. She freshened up her makeup before slipping the soft material of the shirt over her head. Fluffing up her hair, she decided that this would have to be good enough.

Olivia: What are wearing. Take a photo.

Hayden sighed. Using the full length mirror in her bedroom, she snapped a photo and set it off to her friend. As she waited for a reply, she rummaged through her purse, pulling out her ID and credit cards.

Olivia: Wear your black boots. Don’t You Dare Wear Trainers!!

Hayden: Fine.

Hayden searched her closet, the boots apparently missing. She rolled her eyes before making her way across the hall to Olivia’s room.  Sure enough, there they were, lying in the middle of her roommate's bedroom floor. Hayden sat on the edge of the bed, pulling the thigh high boots on and zipping them up.  She grabbed her favorite black sweater before texting her friend back.

Hayden: Boots are on and I’ve got that little black sweater that you’re always trying to steal from me.

Olivia: Good girl.  Now don’t do anything I wouldn’t do and Use Protection!

Hayden: Good god Liv, it’s our first date.

Olivia: LOL and this is why you are my sweet good girl.  I really do need to corrupt your some more.  Just have fun.

Hayden: I’ll call you tomorrow.  Night.

Hayden grabbed her keys as she headed out the door, into the dark night.

     He was waiting for her outside the bar.  She couldn’t help the smile that formed on her lips. He looked good.  A pair of jeans hugged his hips and a long-sleeved Henley wrapped his upper body.  He returned her smile. ‘Don’t be shy. Don’t be shy.’ She said to herself silently, over and over again.

“I’m sorry about not coming to pick you up, I hope you won’t hold that against me.” Taron’s husky voice greeted her ears as she neared him.

“No, that’s fine. You look nice.” Hayden could feel her cheeks start to flame up as the words left her mouth.

He chuckled, “I was just going to say the same about you. You’ve got to stop beating me to the compliments.”

She liked the sound of his laugh. Something about it feeled her with a warmth she hadn’t experienced before. “So what are our plans for the night? Are we staying here?”

He shook his head and reached his hand out to her, “No.  Are you hungry?”

She stared at his hand, her heart picking up its pace. “Yeah, I’m starving.” With apprehension, she extended her hand towards his. His warm fingers slipped between hers and their palms pressed together.

“Good, there is this great Indian place up the street.  Do you like curry?”

She let him lead, enjoying the feel of their hands joined together. “Yeah, I do.”

“Then curry it shall be. You’ll like this place.  It’s quiet and there shouldn’t be any interruptions.” He looked over at her, the smile growing.

     She couldn’t remember the last time she had laughed so much. Taron was funny.  He was sweet and considerate. The staff at the restaurant seemed to know him and treated the pair well. She tasted some of the best food she’d had in awhile, all while listening to Taron tell stories about his days in drama school, about his mother and his younger sisters, about growing up in Wales. She giggled as he thickened his accent, using the Welsh terms with over exaggeration. He talked about his travels to the United States, to China and Korea, and even the long term stint he did down in Hungary. She ate all of it up.  She could sit and listen to him talk for the rest of her life. He had so much expression and was so full of life. She’d never met anyone quite like him before and was quickly finding herself falling for the man who sat across from her.

The night ended far too soon and the walk back to her apartment was over before she was ready for it to be.

“Would you like to come in,” She nervously stuttered.

He leaned in, kissing her cheek softly, “I would absolutely love to, but I’m going to pass for tonight.”

Disappointment flowed through her.

“Don’t give me that look. I’m only saying no because I’m leaving town early in the morning. But, I’d love to see you again when I get back.”

She nodded her head, “I’d really like that.  I had a great time tonight Taron. Thank you for all of it.” She felt how close he stood next to her. She felt as his fingers slid down her arm. She felt them encircle her wrist and she held her breath as he pulled her closer. His arms wrapped around her shoulders and he pressed their bodies together.

He pressed his lips to her cheek once more, before pulling away.

She shivered as the warmth left her but noticed that his hand was clutched around hers. “Text me while you’re gone?”

He nodded, “Of course I will. I look forward to continuing our conversations and next time we talk about you.”

She blushed again, “I am not near as interesting as you are though.”

“I guess we’ll have to see,” He let her hand drop, taking a step back. “I really do need to go.” He turned around, and began his decent down the stairs, but stopped, “Two weeks from tomorrow… you plan the date this time.”

She smiled and nodded as she watched him disappear from her sight.

     Her heart soared as she recounted her date to Olivia. She blushed as she thought about how he looked that night and how his lips had felt against her skin. How holding his hand had felt so right. How she could never tire of listening to him talk.

Olivia sat back, watching as her friend glowed with happiness. “So the date went well?”

Hayden shook her head, “I think I’ve been saying that this whole time. Don’t you ever listen to me?”

Liv laughed, “I’m glad that you had fun. So when are you seeing him again?”

“A couple weeks.  He’s out of town until then, but he wants me to plan the next outing.”

“Where out of town?”

Hayden shrugged, “You know, I didn’t ask. I’m assuming it’s for work.”

“Did you ask what he did for work?” Olivia grinned, knowing full well who Taron was and what he did for a living.

“No,” Hayden shook her head, “And I didn’t ask either.  Shit, I probably should have asked that.”

“I think that you’ll find out soon enough. So where are you planning on going for your next date?”

[raychulemma]

50 Completely Random Questions People Rarely Ask Tag:

1. What’s your favorite candle scent? Red Apple Wreath - Yankee Candle. It's perfectly Autumnal and always goes on half price sale after Christmas. I have far too many versions of it

2. What female celebrity do you wish you were related to? Probably Maya Rudolph because she's a shameless weirdo like me

3. What male celebrity do you wish was your brother? Probably Peter Kay. I feel like he would be easy to open up to. And he would make awkward family events so much more bearable

4. What’s your favorite thing about marriage? (And if you’re not married, what’s your favorite thing about being single?) Security. Safety. I didn't expect it to feel any different because we had been living together for a while but something about the actual marriage made me feel protected and comfortable. Also because its a same-sex marriage it's a lot nicer to say my wife than my fiancée, because i would wonder if they assume my fiancée is male

5. What’s one thing you own that you should probably get rid of, but just can’t? Books that I'm not going to re-read but have memories linked to buying/receiving/reading them.

6. Can you do a split? not a chance

7. How old were you when you learned how to ride a bike? Seven. i learnt at the end of my road because it's a dead end. and i got a green bike for my birthday with a seat for my teddy

8. How many oceans have you swam in? just the Atlantic ocean 🌊

9. How many countries have you been to? 6. France, Spain, Germany, USA (Florida), Wales, Scotland.

10. Is anyone in your family in the army? No, my Grandad was, and some of my Great Uncles but no one during my lifetime

11. What was your favorite TV show when you were a child? Superted, Adventures of Winnie the Pooh, The Story of Tracy Beaker, Dick n Dom in da Bungalow, Jungle Run

12. What did you dress up as on Halloween when you were eight? A classy binbag witch

13. Have you read any of the Harry Potter, Hunger Games or Twilight series? I got into the Harry Potter books in 1998 and am still in love with the series. I went to the midnight release for the last book. I watched all of the films in the opening week and vividly remember that the cinema i saw the first film at in 2001 had a Harry Potter themed sweet shop. I have jewellery, clothing, books, dvds, wands, other collectibles. I read the books with my mum when i was younger and watched all of the films in the cinema with her. she had her own HP merch. My wife also loves Harry Potter. We have been to see Cursed Child twice and have been to the Studio Tour 3 (or 4?) times. We had a Harry Potter themed wedding which was absolutely perfect. Hunger Games was something i avoided reading until the first film was coming out, and then absolutely loved the first 2 books (3rd one got too political for me) and the films are still some of my favourites for costume and set design. I read the twilight books after my best friend recommended them to me. We all actually read them as part of our sisterhood club. I went to blackpool to watch the first film in the cinema with my best friend. I watched the last one at midnight with my wife and one of the girls from the sisterhood who is one of the biggest twilight fans i know still. she has behind the scenes books and dvds and has re read the books that much that the spines are just gone. my mum was also a big twilight fan and would watch them any time they were on tv. i watched a few at the cinema with her, always her choice. she hadnt seen hunger games at the time of them being released but we did watch them all with her a few years ago

14. Would you rather have an American accent or a British accent? i film YouTube videos and always think my accent would be more interesting if it was American

15. Have you ever taken karate lessons? no, my 2 brothers and sister did when i was 5 or 6. i didnt like being touched so never did it

16. Do you know who Kermit the frog is? yup

17. What’s the first amusement park you’ve been to? im going to guess Gullivers world Warrington because its the closest one to where i live

18. What language, besides your native language, would you like to be fluent in? French because I love disneyland paris. or japanese because i would love to visit tokyo but its way out of my comfort zone

19. Do you spell the color as grey or gray? grey. e for england, a for america

20. Do you know triplets? yes, 2 girls and a boy but i only met the girls

21. Do you prefer Titanic or The Notebook? Titanic. my mum was a massive fan. She watched it 3 times in the cinema when it first came out. we watched it with her when it was released in imax on an anniversary. she had behind the scenes books, a few versions of the vhs and dvds, playing cards. her love for it made me love it

22. Have you ever had Indian food? no im a very fussy eater and have never tried indian or Chinese

23. What’s the name of your favorite restaurant? Of all time? Tough choice but im going with pizza hut. Cheesy bites base with double mushroom. Never craved something more

24. Have you ever been to Olive Garden? they dont have it in England so no but i would probably like it

25. What would your parents have named you if you were the opposite gender? i have no idea, maybe jason after my dad?

26. If you have a nickname, what is it? rach, chicken, chickadee

27. Who’s your favorite person in the world? i want to say scruff but shes technically not a person. kirsty is my best friend and i would pick her every time

28. Would you rather live in a rural area or in the suburbs? where i live is in between. drive one way and its city, the other way is farms. so living in one ot those farmhouses not far from city life would be the dream. i would have chickens, sheep and cats.

29. Can you whistle? yep but my cats hate the noise

30. Do you sleep with a nightlight? i can see the hallway light from where our bed is so i dont generally need a nightlight but we do have cute ones. i have 3 HP ones on my bedside table

31. Do you eat breakfast every morning? yea as long as i have time

32. How many times have you been to the hospital? ive only ever been to a&e. once for palpitations, a few times for mental health and once for an x ray on my hand. ive been to walk in centres for urine/kidney infections and for fractured fingers. oh i did go to hospital to see a neurologist to be diagnosed with essential tremor

33. Have you ever seen Finding Nemo? yes i love it. my brother and sister both bought me the dvd for christmas the year it came out so i had 2 copies for a while. i also had the game for pc and ps2. and i had a game on my phone and ipad where you could build up the seabed and gain fish. the film is just so nice and calming to watch. the scenery, the sound effects, the movements are all just gently flowing. and somehow you get attached to these characters and root for them whether youre a fan of tropical fish or not.

34. Where do you buy your jeans? primark, next, sainsburys, asda

35. What’s the last compliment you got? kirsty said my eyelashes look like im wearing mascara when im not

36. Do you usually remember your dreams in the morning? yea and they're weird as fuck. the latest one was about the bath being clogged with poo

37. Favorite beverage that isn’t water? Tea ☕

38. How many pairs of shoes do you currently own? a disgusting amount. maybe 20. maybe more

39. How old were you when you found out that Santa wasn’t real? about 8 which I think wasnt too young or too old. my brother told me which I was glad about because i was prone to being bullied at school and would have hated to be told by nasty kids

40. What is one food that you used to hate but now you love? cheesy garlic bread WTF

41. What is a weird lie you’ve told? i told kirsty once that i had pood the bed and asked her to help me clean it.

42. Heels or flats? flats always. specifically trainers. i think dresses look so much cuter with trainers. same with suits

43. Do you have any weird phobias? no just common ones. moths, spiders, flying insects, beetles, heights, being completely isolated, finding a dead person

44. What is a phrase or word you always say? i cant actually think of a current phrase i say but i do get stuck on phrases

45. What is a song that you bast or belt out when you are alone? part of your world, let it go, bridge over troubled water, over the rainbow. any that i try to actually hit the notes on

46. What is one of your biggest pet peeves? nails. nails tapping, and the sound of cutting or biting nails. or people that stop in the middle of an aisle or walkway when you're trying to get past

47. Do you sleep with your closet door open or closed? they dont even have doors on yet so open

48. Would you rather be attacked by a big bear or a swarm of bees? bear. the noise of bees terrifies me. i had a flying ant in my hair on flying ant day but i didnt know. i heard it buzz and cried

49. Do you have any weird things you do? i cant have 2 cream biscuits together (custard cream and jam n cream). i sometimes say hi to my teddies so they know i havent forgot about them. i buy hatchimals when theyre on sale even though i havent previously collected them cos im an impulsive pos. (honestly collecting animal jam figures and my little ponies were the best though)

50. What movie could you watch over and over again and still love? any of the harry potter films, titanic, sisterhood of the travelling pants, Princess diaries 1 and 2, enchanted, princess and the frog, raise your voice, catch me if you can, chalet girl, the shining, slumdog millionaire

[iviaggidianica]

giorno uno: metropolitan panic & luxury fashion stores

My flights were not pleasant, but not abhorrently intolerable. On the 5 hour stint I watched Vox Lux (weird & unnerving) and then some of The Princess Diaries (familiar and comforting). A chicken curry & pot of ice cream later, I managed to get myself on a skybus to the right terminal, and after asking for help at an info centre (yep I did actually ask), I went to the next gate. I passed Amy Ross on the way, who was going to the USA - an unlikely coincidence!

On the 12 hour flight I was determined to sleep the entire time but drifted in & out due to meals, coldness, discomfort and turbulence. I would wake up every time thinking ‘surely it’s time to get off now’, but alas. There was some passive aggressive gentle elbowing of the large old man sitting beside me encroaching on my personal space, and at one point some orange juice went flying as I knocked it in its holder in my attempt to get comfortable. That’s about as descriptive as a 12 hour flight can get.

Arriving in Milan was the part I was most anxious about. I stood in the passport line for about 30 minutes, awfully dehydrated. Eventually got in, stood at the wrong baggage collection for an embarrassing amount of time, traipsed through the airport to find the Malpensa Express and kissed goodbye to £13 to buy tickets. On the train we passed lots of green shrubbery, crumbling graffitied walls, yellow painted houses, and then all of a sudden we hit the city.

I walked around for almost an hour trying to find the hotel which was purportedly 10 minutes away from the station (it was, just not when you factor in the incompetence of Google Maps). I asked a man at a fresh drinks vendor & a lady in a chemist for some vague Italian-inflected directions, clinging onto every ‘sinistra’ and ‘destra’ I picked out, and eventually pulled my case up the stairs to reception. Proceeded to have a major panic as I couldn’t find my passport hidden in my bag lining - an Australian Consulate building flashed before my eyes in those few moments - and then entered my...room. A sink, bed, table, window, fan - a single toilet and shower located down the hall. Not going to lie - after my disheartening rigmarole throughout the city trying to find the place, running on few hours sleep and little food/water, the room was the yucky little cherry on top. I called Mum, which of course made me feel better, and pulled myself together.

(Already a MESS!)

(The holy fan)

(View from my room)

I contacted a girl, Aaliyah, who I met at UWA at the leaving meeting. I suggested we have dinner together, and so we planned to meet at 3PM at central station to go to Duomo. I was very nervous considering I’d only talked to her for all of 20 minutes in the past.

Whilst waiting for 3 to roll around, (it being around 12 at this point) I decided to walk to the station to have lunch before meeting her. The following sentence will not please Tonya: after wandering around and mainly just being unable to understand the cuisines/prices/formality of the restaurants & cafes, I stumbled into Maccas. And I felt a strange sense of peace, as even the interiors are exactly the same as at home. I ordered a burger, proud of myself for understanding Italian, and then walked to find somewhere else to sit as Maccas was packed with hungry travellers with suitcases. (Quality report: both the chicken and the bread bun in Italian McDonalds, it seems, are actually real).

I had really over-estimated the amount of time I would need to eat one burger. So I walked back to my hotel as a practice run, so that I wouldn’t endure that horrific goose chase from the beginning of the day again. Ended up resting in my hotel for a bit more and then went out to properly meet Aaliyah.

Was still early. And Aaliyah a little late. And my phone charge dying. Went and read some non fiction books about space and time in a shop at the station, called Mum again to express my nervousness, and then went to sit firstly near the steps that go down to the metro, before a cigarette-smoking bogan family drove me to another more isolated bench (more first impressions of Milan as a city in a moment).

Finally went down into the bowels of the metro, pretending to know what I was doing by walking fast and swerving at the appropriate signs. It was surprisingly easy. I bought tickets from a tobacco shop, where the Italian man was more than willing to help and graciously wished me a wonderful day. “Grazie” is beginning to roll off the tongue like second nature now, ah yers.

Aaliyah’s train would stop at my station, and then would go straight on to Duomo. I waited for Aaliyah at the tracks, but due to bad coordination I got ON the train and she got OFF to meet me. It was quite funny. Then when we arranged to just meet at Duomo, meaning she had to follow me a few minutes after on a separate train, she accidentally got off on the stop after. Truly a comedic sequence of events. Once she took a train back in the opposite direction we met beside a massive regal horse statue directly in front of the Duomo which probably has great significance which I’m overlooking. Stepping out to see the cathedral, in fact, wasn’t so much of a “wow, there’s the cathedral!” moment, but just a blind frenzy of trying to find a “girl who looks like a cow”, as Aaliyah self-described her animal-print outfit.

We met and were immediately barraged by street sellers, coming up to us and tying rainbow strings - yes, strings - around our wrists in the name of ‘peace and love’, and then asking for money. As Aaliyah is originally from Sudan, many African sellers sucked up to her, giving her discount offers. But we declined the £20 carriage ride and professional photography in front of the cathedral.

We took some pictures ourselves (better ones of me fully standing there, plus us together, are with Aaliyah and will come through at some point. These don’t do justice and I’m making weird faces, I know).

(You asked for pics with my face in them, this is what you get)

Then we went to the Duomo shopping place, which was art in itself. Looked a lot like the Melbourne arcades, but...far more impressive. We went inside the luxury stores including Prada, Chanel, Georgio Armani, Michael Kors, etc...and I suppressed my shock as Aaliyah seriously contemplated buying her parents £300+ gifts. And she probably will end up going back and doing so.

(Aaliyah + me looking like I’m grimacing, because that’s what happens when your phone is on the lowest possible brightness setting and you can’t see yourself.)

The shop assistants are SO friendly. They obviously want to sell you things, but they take a legitimate interest in you. The man in Georgio Armani talked to us about Australia & growing up in Italy & our respective interests in fashion & his fear of flying - it feels like you can just make friends with anyone and everyone in Italy. Nobody really keeps to themselves. This is great, but also a bad thing when you’re running on maybe 5 hours of sleep over 2 days and being friendly seems like the biggest chore on earth. 

Aaliyah went and got prescriptions for Ray Bans, as you do, whilst I thankfully sat on a couch and pretended to go on my phone - pretended, because it was now on 5% and I was desperately trying to preserve power for my journey home. Here is an unnecessary pictorial documentation of this incident.

We went to a pizza place someone had recommended Aaliyah, got some large slices, then went and sat inside McDonalds (don’t worry, it was just a place to sit). Then Aaliyah accompanied me to the station so I could go home, around 7:30PM; but then the most bizarre thing occurred.

A man with spiked up hair walking hurriedly suddenly stopped as and said something in Italian, to which we responded ‘parlo inglese’ and continued on our way, but then he started asking for directions for somewhere, or asking us if we knew something, and then suddenly said he worked for a modelling company and we were both really great candidates and there was going to be a party at a well known club in Milan (Aaliyah knows of it) and wants us to come, and because Aaliyah had been receiving compliments all day from shopkeepers etc for her appearance I wasn’t so much doubtful of that compliment, but it was dodgy how he stopped us randomly and didn’t even seem to know what he was talking about at first. He continued for about 20 minutes and Aaliyah showed genuine interest whilst I was thinking nononono ALERT, and in the end it ended up sounding actually real but no way my spiky haired friend. He’s going to send Aaliyah an invite for it, so she can go along and have fun - not I sir!

We parted ways and I felt very snazzy remembering how to do the whole ride back, and then walking back to my hotel without any Google prompts at all. 

Now, first impressions of Milan: an ultra-busy Fremantle. Humid and hot, you can’t walk far without putting on a sweat. Metro lines, trams etc are very efficient, if a little ill-labelled. The people are all very extroverted, happy to talk, and happy to translate. Friendships could be made from a 5 minute ride on the metro - something impossible in Perth. There is an eclectic cultural mix, with many Indians, Africans, Muslims. All the business men always look like they’re off the cover of GQ with blue suits and slick cosmopolitan haircuts. There are many gracious, slender looking women, but mainly the girls all have that curly hair black rimmed glasses sportswear look. Everyone always looks like they have somewhere to go, and are going in confidence.

I wrote the following summation of the day about halfway it:

Throughout the entire journey thus far, I’ve found myself constantly asking the question: “why am I doing this?”. I don’t know if this is a normal thing to think. I just hope I can start to feel a bit less overwhelmed.

Yet at the same time, I haven’t really registered that I’m in Italy; anywhere of particular note. In that sense, I’m both numb and also overwhelmed at the same time. I’m looking forwards to Uni, where there’ll be plenty of English-speaking people to feel comfortable with.

A good sleep & food should restore me.

...and whilst today was by no means perfect and there were a lot of bad moments, I feel somewhat more hopeful tonight.

Now, let’s see if these posts will continue at this length, or at all!