#and yes Dolores was the first to get her period

[needs-to-stop-looking-at-valves]

Can we get a fluffy fic about pepa reacting to her daughter's first period? Like how she found out, and how dolores reacted herself.

Oh my god it's gonna be better than MINE- i had mine at peter piper pizza, and now I cannot go back to that place.

Pepa made sure her humming was extra quiet today. Dolores had complained yesterday that she wasn't feeling that well, and given that she hadn't woken up today, she could assume she still wasn't feeling well. It was why she was currently making her a tea, as well as one for Félix, who seemed more worried than she was, oddly enough.

"Félix, we all have days where we don't feel well."

"I know, I know. But Pepa, that's my baby girl! Of COURSE I'm worried!"

Pepa chuckled, putting the tea on the table, and kissing his forehead.

"Ya, relax. She's eleven, not five. Drink your tea, and breathe. Nothing is wrong."

"You're right. You're absolutely right. Gracias, Pepi. I-"

"MAMI!!"

Camilo ran into the kitchen, nearly slamming himself into the walls of the Casita.

"Oye, relax! Do you want to get hurt-"

"I checked in on Dolores! She won't get up and she's bleeding!"

Whatever calm Pepa had, was absolutely thrown out the fucking window. Her and Félix ran up the stairs as quickly as they could, and immediately ran into the room, to 'backstage', where Dolores's actual bed was. Pepa immediately shook her, scaring the poor thing awake.

"W-whats going on?!"

"Mija, are you okay? Camilo told us you weren't getting up and there was blood!"

Camilo pointed to the sheets, and sure enough, as Dolores pushed away the sheets, there was blood, smeared against all of her covers. Félix looked at Dolores, and sighed in relief.

"Oh por dios-I was TERRFIED."

Dolores groaned in disgust as she grabbed her dad's arm, kicking the sheet away.

"Ew...papi? Why is there blood on the sheets? Am I dying?"

Félix chuckled as he patted her little head.

"No baby. You know that thing that happens to mami sometimes? When she gets a bit more cranky than usual? Thats her on her period. And when you're on your period, you bleed."

Dolores didn't look surprised, but rather, extremely uncomfortable with this information.

"How long till it's over?"

Pepa started to gather her sheets as Félix helped her to her feet.

"For a week. Then it'll start again next month."

"Wait, so my prima isn't dying?"

"No mijo, she's just fine!"

Camilo pouted.

"Aw. I wanted her stuff."

Dolores stuck her tongue out at him, before Félix chuckled and seperated them by lightly smothering their faces with his hands.

"Ya, enough. Camilo, you be nice to your sister, ESPECIALLY right now."

Camilo pushed his hand away, looking upon it with disgust.

"Why? She's not dying."

"Because she doesn't feel well. Your sister is going to be bleeding for a while-"

Dolores winced as she held onto her tummy, clearly feeling a cramp.

"Ow ow ow...it hurts."

"Those are cramps, mija. Don't worry, you'll feel better after a nice shower. Then, you can have whatever you want for breakfast."

"W-she gets to eat whatever she wants for breakfast? Just for being a girl?!"

Camilo turned into Dolores, and faked what looked like a tummy ache. Félix looked displeased by this, and even Pepa had to admit that was inappropriate.

"Camilo. Be a good little hombre for me, stop making fun of your sister. Get me the laundry basket."

Camilo pouted as he obeyed, and Pepa chuckled as she stuffed the basket full. They all walked Dolores to the bathroom, and Pepa pushed Bruno away from entering the bathroom.

"Pepa what the hell-"

"Someone just started her period today, she's going to take a shower. As long as she needs."

Bruno leaned over to look at Dolores, giving her a thumbs up.

"Hey! The big period! Well good for you! Growing up, right before our eyes! Has Pepa told you about her period story?"

Pepa glared at him, the thunder serving as a warning for him to shut the fuck up.

"Bruno. Don't. You. Dare."

She knew that shit eating grin. No stopping him, even if she was going to beat his ass.

"It happened around your age! We were having a sleep over in my room, and we all slept in my bed. We woke up- we were all just covered in her blood! Like it was all over my sheets and our clothes-it looked like the horse scene in the Godfather. You dunno what that is yet, but trust me it's a lot."

"BRUNO."

"For like, two years I was convinced she was a werewolf, and was using the period as a cover up-okay okay I'm done I'm done!"

Bruno yelped as one of her lightning bolts almost hit him. Dolores covered her ears from the noise, but all three of these shit heads were chuckling along with Bruno. Pepa pushed him away, scolding him for being a dumbass, and only relaxing when Félix lightly patted her back.

"Hey, this is the first time Dolores smiled today. Be happy about that."

She sighed, the clouds poofing away as she nodded.

"Fair point. Dolores, mija, I'm going to help you with something while your papi gets you breakfast."

"What do you want for breakfast?"

Dolores thought about it for a second. She could only imagine how crazy her thoughts must be going in her little head.

"Mmm...I want arroz con leche."

"Then that's what you'll get, mi little buho. I'll take Camilo with me, you handle it from here?"

Pepa nodded, and after sharing a smooch with her husband, took Dolores to the bathroom. Pepa had her sit on the toilet, as she knelt down to her level.

"Now, mi amor. There's a few things I should tell you about how to handle your period, okay?"

"Uhm...okay?"

"Great. Now, first things first. You get your heavy bleeding from me, so you need to wear a cloth on your underwear."

"Like...a diaper?"

Pepa shrugged.

"Sort of. It's worth it though, else you'll get blood on everything, and you'll just genuinely be uncomfortable."

"Is there...something else?"

"Oh si-I use these sometimes, they're tampons!"

Pepa had some on hand, actually, for emergencies. She let Dolores hold one, but she looked...not so comfortable.

"Okay. And how do these catch the blood?"

"Oh you push this, and it goes inside of you. Then, once you need to change it, you pull the string and-"

"Papi!!!"

Dolores covered her ears as she screamed. And immediately, Félix poked his head into the bathroom, brow raised.

"What's wrong?"

"Can mami go instead? I don't wanna hear about stuff going places."

Pepa huffed, feeling a cloud form over her head. How dare she? Her own daughter, trying to get rid of her? She huffed, standing up, thrusting the tampons into Félix's hands, and taking the basket of laundry.

"Fine. YOU deal with it. Clearly I'm not wanted."

Pepa walked past them to the laundry room, where Julieta was, trying to get stains out of clothes, alongside Isabela.

"Pepa! What do you need me to...You're thundering."

"No, I thought I was raining glitter."

She replied, sarcasm laced in her voice. Julieta grabbed the clothes from her, and chuckled upon seeing the mess.

"Oh, Pepa! How cute! Is that why she was feeling unwell? I thought you'd be happy!"

"I was. Then she decided I wasn't good enough to explain tampons to her. Félix has ALWAYS been her favorite. Tonto."

Isabela looked up at the sheet, curious.

"What's going on with Dolores?"

"She had her period, it means she's becoming a woman."

"W-I'm older! I should becoming a woman! I want my period!"

Julieta chuckled, patting her head before getting to work.

"It'll happen when it happens, mija. I didn't have mine till I was thirteen, but I've heard a few getting it at fourteen."

"Is it bad?"

"In...some cases. Like Pepa's was-"

"If I have to hear about how bad my first period was, I'm going to hurricane."

"Ah, Bruno huh?"

Julieta chuckled, much to her frustration.

"You know what, I'm going to the market, let out some clouds. And Dolores says she wants arroz con leche for breakfast."

"Have fun. And be easy on your little girl, she's probably just really uncomfortable right now."

Pepa scoffed as she walked out of the laundry room, and into town. Maybe she was just a bit hard on her. Maybe she just wanted to be there for her, someone she wished she had when SHE was bleeding. Oh well.

At least she knew HER brother wouldn't call her a werewolf for two years.

#asks #not transformers #encanto #bruno is such a lil shit and so is camilo #and in case you're wondering #Félix is that guy that will get his little girl ANYTHING she wants during her period #even if he has to make it himself or get his mami to make it #she's getting it because thats his little angel #and yes Dolores was the first to get her period #then it was luisa #THEN isa #also lets say fuck the timeline of mira and her gift and shit #i had to include bruno

[zafirosreverie]

Tía Y/N (Madrigal triplets & Reader) part 2

Part 1

_____________________

"GET OUT OF MY WAY!"

"I WASN’T EVEN PART OF THIS!"

"FÉLIX, I WANT A DIVORCE!"

"JULIETA, COME BACK HERE!"

“YES JULI, COME BACK! 

“NEVER!”

“SHE DOESN’T HIT YOU THAT HARD!”

"BETTER YOU THAN ME!"

“YOU’RE THE ELDEST! YOU HAVE TO SACRIFICE FOR YOUR BABY SIBLINGS”

“I KNOW NO SIBLINGS BUT THE ONE WITH THE CHANCLA BEHIND US, YOU’RE ON YOUR OWN”

“JULIETAAAAAAAA”

Alma tried not to laugh and maintain a serious face, but it was quite difficult when her triplets, all 50 years old with their own families, ran as a soul that the devil carries to avoid what everyone is afraid of: la chancla.

She didn't really know what was happening, it had been a quiet and normal morning, with the whole family taking a day off to enjoy each other's company. She had been embroidering with Mirabel in the living room (she did it more and more often, in an attempt to fix the relationship with her younger granddaughter), when Isabela and Camilo had entered laughing out loud, with Felix and Luisa smiling behind them.

They did not even have time to ask what happened before three green, yellow and blue spots flew next to them, with a very angry Y/N yelling from upstairs.

Alma was no fool, she knew that you, her eldest daughter and the one who reminded her most of Pedro (at least in appearance), had long taken the role that corresponded to her in the life of the triplets. On the one hand, she was happy they had you, but on the other it hurt her heart and guilt consumed her for knowing that she was never really present in her children's life to the point where they had to turn to you for help.

She never knew when Bruno had told you that he didn't want to have his own family, that he was not interested in having a partner of any kind. She wasn't present when Pepa had run to you on the first day of her period, or in the long night talks about crushes when she met Félix. She didn't even know that Julieta liked women too.

Just a few months ago she had discovered that Pepa calmed down when she was caressed, that Bruno liked to play the guitar or that Julieta loved painting and that the beautiful pictures in your room were made by her. In truth, she didn't know her own children. But you did.

You had been with them on every step of the road, even when they took different paths, you had never let them be lost for a long time. A task that you later performed with the grandchildren as well. Isabela and Dolores had learned to walk with you, Luisa always looked up to you especially when she had a problem, Camilo told you the secrets that he could never tell his parents, Antonio still followed you around all day when he was feeling sad and Mirabel...for the girl you were the whole world. There was absolutely nothing that she didn't tell you.

You were the only other family member besides her grandmother who didn't have a gift, you understood what it was to grow up with magical siblings when there was nothing special in you, you understood the looks of people's judgment, murmurs and teasing. That was why you had made your special mission to make the girl protected from all that.

Little by little, you wove a warm blanket of love and humility, you taught her that she did not need to have a gift to be a light, to shine and be a source of comfort. Mirabel could be identical to Julieta in appearance, but she was definitely a coal copy of you in everything else.

It took her too long to realize it, but now Alma understood that the miracle, the magic, was not what united them, that it was only a feature that most of them shared and nothing else. The answer was you. Really, you were the angel who kept the family together.

...And that's why no one should mess with you, unless they wanted all of heaven's strength chasing them. Or that it was one of the triplets. 50 years and they had not yet learned not to make you angry? Or perhaps it was their way of getting your attention when they felt you were abandoning them for the grandchildren.

A silly thought perhaps, but children will always be children, and the age did not matter, they would always need even if it was just a hug from their mother. And you were definitely the triplets' mother, no matter how much it hurt her.

"What do you think happened?" Mirabel whispered, taking her out of her thoughts

"I don't know" Alma smiled "but it must have been bad if your mother is running too"

It was true. Of the three, Julieta was usually the one that was spared from your fury. It was no secret to anyone that she was your favorite sister/daughter/family/person, despite Pepa and Bruno's anger, who would always get offended when her sister avoided your scolding.

"What about Julieta?! She also helped with the joke!" they would said

"Maybe, but she looks cute doing it" you'd shrug "besides, who could be mad at this precious face?" You would add while taking your sister by the cheeks

Your younger siblings would cross their arms and looked at you with an annoyed pout while a black cloud hovered on the redhead, and Julieta simply let you use her cheeks as a squishy and fill her face with kisses (something she took from you and did with her niece, nephews and daughters too), while she smirked at them. 

The only times she actually got scolded was when she wasn't taking care of her own health. So either Julieta just wanted to do exercise or whatever the hell they did was really stupid and dangerous.

"YOU'RE ALL SO GROUNDED!!" You growled when you managed to get to the first floor.

You cursed Casita for siding with the triplets and letting them run while it trapped you on the second floor, but that didn't mean they were safe. Nope, there was no escape. 

"What happened, mija?" Alma asked you walking up to you

"Your mocosos share the same fried brain cell and unfortunately for them, it wasn't Julieta's turn to have It" you growled 

Your mother laughed and rolled her eyes fondly. She knew that you loved your siblings more than anything and that any insult you might have for them would never come out of the heart, just from a motherly anger, and there was something she could think that this was about. 

"Did they try to test Julieta's gift with poisoned food again?" She asked 

"They tried to test my patience" you answered "they used arsenic, mom. ARSENIC!"

Okay, that was new. Alma felt bad for thinking it, but she could have expected something that stupid and irresponsible from Pepa and Bruno, but Julieta? She knew better than that, she wasn't a silly girl who didn't know what arsenic could do. She must have been really desperate to get your attention if she let her siblings drag her into that.

"How are they even alive?" She gasped

"Félix caught them before they could even finish the empanadas and ran to tell me" you sighed "and I'm glad he did"

"Of course, I don't want to thinking what could have happened to them"

"And because now I can kill them myself" 

Alma looked at you for a moment. You were frowning and looked ready to hit whoever stood in front of you, but she was still your mother and she could see the fear in your eyes, and honestly, she felt it too. She followed your gaze to see her younger children still running and she made a note to scold them right after you.

You felt your mom's aura changing and knew she was on your side, so you smirked and took your sandal with a single move, your eyes never leaving your adorably stupid siblings.

"Who do you want me to hit?" You asked, just for fun 

Alma thought about it for a second. Julieta would definitely get the worst scolding once they were back for letting the other two convince her to do something stupid, but you both knew it hadn't been her idea. It probably wasn't even Bruno's, but there was someone who had never feared death nor god. 

"The middle one" she told you 

You nodded and focused on your victim for a moment before your chance flew directly at her. Your smirk never left your face and grew even more when Pepa fell to the ground after it hit her right in the head. Bruno and Julieta didn't even look at their fallen sister, they just ran faster to save their lives. 

"AND YOU BETTER BRING IT BACK TO ME, YOUNG LADY" You yelled at the redhead while the whole family laughed behind you. 

These three would be the end of you one day, you were sure of that. But god knew you wouldn't have them any other way. Besides, they were your cute little babies, so you guessed that gave them some points too.

#reader insert #x reader #madrigal triplets #madrigal triplets & reader #julieta madrigal #bruno madrigal #pepa madrigal #imagine #encanto preferences #encanto imagine #encanto x reader #encanto #tía y/n

[omgcheez]

Autistic Bruno headcanons/fic ideas go!

-gvr 💚

I dunno how fresh these are, but here I go:

Rubbing fabrics is one of his most common stims, but there are some others not seen in the movie. I don't remember who it was, but months ago someone said that they wanted to HC him flapping but felt bad because the way the fandom was... it's in the ol book of HC's now. you deserve flappy Bruno homie.

Sand is very texture™.

When he was a kid, Bruno spent long periods of time looking at the sand in hourglasses fall.

Being the gifted kid of the family allowed a lot of his quirks to get overlooked for a while. By the time he hit burnout, he was seen as a burden. this could probably be a general HC, but it was very much a double edged sword for him.

He advocated for Dolores at loud parties, and postcanon, the two will go to her room to enjoy a quiet activity.

His "Special rat" he mentions in OBB is his support rat that acts as not only a companion, but a comfort. He pets it and also trained it to lick his face and calm him down.

I've mentioned the HC of involuntary visions sometimes vetting tied to meltdowns. The swirlimg sand has unintentionally hurt people before, and out of context, a random villager probably would see it as scary.

This one is common I think, but Mirabel making Bruno textured a scarf,plush, etc? yes, she does that.

She is also one of the first people that really sat and listened to him to that extent. Second most would be Julieta, who was in general the nurturing big sister, though she took care of everyone. That line about holding him in the book until it relaxed and being ok with him not talkong until he felt comfortable is canon in my heart. She knew a lot what to do because of how gentle she is with Antonio and when it comes to emotional care, post canon especially she goes out of her way to make sure everyone, including him is okay.

Luisa gives some awesome pressure hugs, though she has to watch her strength, of course. Bruno can just give her a look and she knows.

If you let him talk about his rats or shows, he will be your best friend. It's not something that everyone necessarily understood, but post canon everyone, especially his family enjoy his shows and his enthusiasm. Something he loves just as much though is the actual process of making things. He can get into a full on trance making his art and sets.

Bruno being afraid of fireworks for the angst. :( It's another reason for him to get Dolores in her soundproof room though.

Julieta knows how his body reacts when he is happy, and is the most thrilled to see that as he is getting better emotionally.

The first time that they all ate together as a family again was chaotic and it was a learning experience. It took some tweaking and sometimes he will eat alone, but generally family meals are good now. :)

The silver lining to his gift is being able to have predictability in his life. He still isn't fond of when the future sneaks up on him or things don't go to plan like in the game where he freaks out and mirabel has to calm him down

He hides in tight corners and small spaces, and his new room has a little hiding spot. The family knows about it and the other spaces he has in the house but respect that

He hits himself and hair pulls when he's in a bad space mentally.

As he got older, a lot of his quirks were misumderstood by the villager and even his mother as him being moody or Noncompliant. Post-canon, she starts to listen to him more and gets to have a caring motherly role more often. She tries to check up on him and make sure that his limits aren't being puahed and that she isn't subconvipusly trying to make him someone else.

He asked Julieta to "fix" him at least once when he was older and frustrated with how sour everything had gone. He's a lot happier with himself, though.

These probably aren't the freshest ideas, but I might add more to the future. Anon, I would love to hear any of your ideas if you have them, as well as other people. Feel free to add in reblogs, comments, asks, or whatever you can think of

#encanto #bruno madrigal #autistic bruno madrigal #encanto headcannons #nd bruno #neurodivergemt bruno madrigal #I wanted to post this sun night but um... busy

[inlocusmads]

Hey there! Time for an ask! :)

Is there something your MC is obsessed with that drives their LI crazy? What about in reverse, is your LI obsessed with something that may make your MC just lose it?

Thank you! :)

Jerz! Oh my God, this has been a long time coming. I'm so sorry it took me ages to respond, so here's a fic to hopefully make up for all of this!

Ain't No Rest For The Wicked

Ethan and Alma Hudson have a heart-to-heart conversation. Meanwhile, back at home, Jane teaches all the right things to a young Ethan Hudson, but at the wrong time.

Characters: Ethan Ramsey, Jane Fletcher, Alma Hudson, Ethan "Eddie" Hudson from Open Heart.

WC: 2.5k | General Audiences

(A/N at the end!)

"I don't know. Is it really that bad that I am -- a bit of a messy botanist?" Ethan asked.

Alma Hudson shrugged. They'd just gone out on a little lunch catch-up after a long time and Ethan had rather wanted it to be private. Just the two of them ruminating about Dolores, how Ethan Hudson - now aptly nicknamed Eddie to avoid the mix-up was coping with elementary school - it had definitely been a good six years and it was almost as if everything around Ethan had changed. New houses in the boulevard, new families, new friends and yet, he still worked at the same hospital.

"I don't know. It has been a while since we lived together." Ethan said. "Jane accepted when I asked her if she was comfortable moving into my apartment for a brief period of time but I believe it is -- a terrible idea. I seem to be doing something wrong with my archiving. There's boxes everywhere, not enough time to order them all and files on coffee tables."

"Ethan, if Jane's only pet peeve of you is your messiness, that's just called being human. Nobody's one hundred percent clean." Alma shook her head.

"It isn't a pet peeve, so to speak. She is understanding. I believe it just annoys her. She doesn't say much and sort of silently scrapes it up when I'm not looking but -- it is a problem, isn't it? An unaddressed problem only progresses into something more."

Ethan took a sharp turn and slowed down near the school zone.

"That's Eddie's school."

"Newberry Elementary." Ethan read the name.

"They're really good. Good at disciplining him. They also have a STEM program for gifted kids. Though I think Eddie is just -- into making trouble and causing chaos. Get a quick kick of adrenaline. He's still a kid."

"Well, I remember when I was one. Then I met Jane."

"Oh?"

"If she's got a problem with my messiness, I have a problem with her -- erm -- bad ideas, I'd say. The other day, we had purchased a rather long table for the dining room and it made the salt dispenser far out of reach and instead of perhaps, using your hands to lift the shakers and use them, she got a model train to do it. It left dent marks on the table, didn't do well with me but -- there's the compromise right? I believe she didn't get enough of an adrenaline kick as a kid and is now cramming her summer bucket list of inventions into one whole -- life."

"That has to be fun, right?" Alma asked.

"It is, like when the time she developed a catapult that didn't make me want to go all the way to get my car keys. However there are drawbacks. Like the time she developed a catapult and in place of the keys, there was a large -- sort of belt hanging from the hook and well, the catapult being powered by electricity, ended up spinning about and causing a mess. It was an even bigger mess because Jane left it all night, powered on and didn't bother introducing an insulating column and it -- it's best if we don't talk about it further."

"She's definitely a lot --"

"Yes, that she is."

"-- I was going to say different but you've dated many different people before." Alma said. "Sorry, it isn't my business to pry--"

"No, no. Alma you're family. I trust you with everything." Ethan offered her a kind smile. "I guess it's always a first to sort of share a roof with someone who just really enjoys creating new things. It's also a pain. It's easier to clean up paperwork and Jane laments about it all the time, when I see her make smoke bombs for fun or incredibly complicated machines that transcend the whole entire living room - it is a complete menace to live with that."

"Of course, of course. Have you tried talking about it?"

"I don't know. I really don't -- mind it as long as it isn't noisy or messy. Even if it is messy, she pulls the "you're as messy as I am" card and -- at this point I don't know who's supposed to set a better example for the other." Ethan shrugged.

"I'll tell you one. Eddie loves you both. He loves talking about you and listening to stories and -- maybe it's a good thing Jane is babysitting him. Maybe they'll connect. It's always hard for a kid like Eddie to socialise. He looks up to you, that's an ineffable fact but generally, he's just -- restraint towards extended family. But you, he looks up to you. He doesn't know what he wants to be yet. In the whole dinosaur, astronaut phase, but -- you've inspired him. And if there's ever a Show and Tell, you best believe he's going to run up to your door and ask you for your sthethoscope."

"I love him too." Ethan said. "Dolores was -- family. She was like the sister I never had and she sort of -- filled this gaping hole in my soul and I never say that about anyone, at all. Eddie is a great kid. He'll do a lot of amazing things someday."

"I hope so. He's been in a rough patch lately. Bad grades. Been bullied too."

"Oh no."

"Yeah. Newberry isn't -- completely bully-free as they make it out to be. He's trying really hard. I just want him to have a good childhood and -- if things ever go south for me, you're his godfather."

"Alma, I appreciate the gesture but nothing will happen to you."

"Ack, you doctors are always so optimistic. Look at me, Ethan. I'm forty eight and I'm raising a five year old. By the time he reaches high school, I'd be sixty one. And college. Who's going to put him through that? I'd be retired by then and I wouldn't be able to be there for him, because -- I pull my back out quite often than before and it's just a downward spiral from now. I just need you to vouch for me, yeah?"

Ethan paused.

"You're forty one, Ethan. Jane, I presume is -- thirty eight, I'd expect? Promise me you'll help Eddie get through if I'm ever not there." Alma said, her right hand on Ethan's left hand. She gave it a small squeeze, expecting some assurance.

"I promise. I won't let him -- be thrown to the wolves. He'll have me whenever he wants me to be there for him."

Alma smiled at him. It was as if a weight had escaped her shoulder and she could count on Ethan and Jane, even though they were a rather strange family to have for Eddie. A doctor who dabbled in research and possibly Dr Frankenstein herself wasn't an ideal environment for a growing college boy, should Alma miss his formative years due to any ailment she might face. But it was just crazy enough to work. She was happy for Ethan, having found a relationship perhaps in the most unexpected of places. She was happy for Jane, who was the cool Aunt figure that Eddie would need in his life and she was just so utterly grateful.

This was about the time when they heard screeching noises, which weren't from the tyres. Alma exchanged a look with Ethan and the latter stepped on the pedal, crossing the road and into the street where Alma and Eddie lived. There was a large backyard overlooking a mass patch of unincorporated land and the worst had already dawned on Alma. Of course, Boston didn't have criminal classes, but what if they'd taken Eddie hostage? What if they'd set fire? The worry only grew larger and larger and by the time Ethan helped Alma out of the car, as the two rushed to their large backyard, they found Jane and Eddie in protective gear.

"What -- is going on?" Ethan panted.

"Aunt Alma! Aunt Alma! Aunt Jane taught me some really cool tricks! We set things on fire! She told me it was -- erm -- pyro-- pyrotech something! And it was so cool! And we also made powder rockets! Did you know that we can make one out of sugar, ben-- bento-- clay and this thing called potassium -- ni-- something? It shot up right into the air and it exploded! It exploded and it was the coolest thing ever!"

"You set fire to the backyard?" Alma shot daggers at Jane.

"No! It was safe, I promise. It's pyrotechnics stuff. You know, safe movie explosions? Eddie told me he was having a hard time at school because of this bully, Matt or something and I taught him some cool homemade explosions, just in case he ever finds himself with a PVC pipe, some bentonite clay - it's bentonite, by the way. Sort of flaky stuff. And potassium nitrate. You can find it in a chem lab, your school would have tons of them and a bit of powdered sugar. Of course, I wouldn't let Eddie play with matchsticks, so we sort of made a large matchstick holder for him to set the rocket on fire and --"

"BOOM!" Eddie said, throwing his head back and laughing.

For a moment, there was nothing but silence.

"He's fine. Unarmed." Jane said. "And technically we aren't breaking any laws. We can't transport this stuff around and that's it. Making it and igniting it on sight is perfectly safe if you know what you're doing."

"You don't know what you're doing!" Alma hissed, as she fussed over Eddie.

"Aunt Alma, but Aunt Jane has a degree in chemistry! She said it's perfectly safe!"

"Well, you are not making explosives at school to fend off bullies!"

"But that would be totally rad though. Dude-" Jane interrupted. "Next time, sneak a firecracker into his backpack, yknow, small ones and --"

"No, no! You are not teaching him anything!"

"Or you could make one of those small hobbyist explosions. Just get a soda bottle. Fill it with aluminium and detergent, give it a good shake or two and if you're feeling really daring, I'll teach you how to insert a fuse in and light it up for a lot more oomph. There's of course, your classic vinegar and baking soda but that's boring. Try getting Coke and Mentos and sort of sneak it in his locker and -- oh wait, hold on, I'll teach ya how to make a flamethrower. It's easy. You'd probably need an empty fire extinguisher and fill it up with some gasoline, pressurise it, y'know make it all compressed and nice and cosy and then -- soak em with some gas, put in the nozzle and whatnot and light em on fire and boom, flamethrowers AND--"

"That is ENOUGH! Eddie, come with me--" Alma took him to the house.

Throughout their conversation, Ethan had not piped up once. Now, he drew in closer, arms crossed against his chest with a sort of stiff feeling.

"You taught him how to -- explode things."

"He's a kid. A kid's gotta learn fire."

"Jane--"

"I'm sorry. I know. I know we're against having kids but -- I just wanna help a kid grow, you see?"

"But explosions?"

"They're cool."

"They can blind someone."

"Still cool. It's chemistry in action. Cool chemistry. A kid needs their chemistry set. Work things. Break things. Set things on fire. Where's the excitement, Ethan? How is Eddie ever going to learn? I hated school so much because there were bullies and half of them were teachers. I hated going there because -- I just -- I couldn't stomach it. The mundane. It's just not cool. Not cool at all."

"Ethan is still a child."

"I know."

"And -- Alma has insisted we take care of him when she reaches her sixties. I really want to -- gain her confidence."

"Yeah, yeah, fair enough." Jane stretched her arms. "I'm sorry about all of this. He was excited. I kind of understood him. It was as if I was a kid again, you know? Hugo and I would be at the workshop everyday, just fiddling with tools and stuff. We'd drill holes just for fun and play with matchsticks because we were ostracised. The both of us. And high school made it worse. I just don't know how to tell you, Ethan."

"No, I understand, I really do-- but next time, maybe you can wait until he's old enough to understand how fires work. Or maybe old enough until he's able to read full length books about botany."

"Who said anything about botany?"

"I've got plenty of books lying at home." Ethan shot a smirk. "You know, the ones you deem messy?"

"Oh no, you're not competing for his attention--"

"He is going to have the greenest thumb in the whole city of Boston and I am going to ensure he learns all of it with some practical gardening lessons thrown in for good measure."

"I'll teach him advanced pyrotechnics and he's going to be making gunpowder in his chem lab before he can learn algebra."

"I'll teach him everything about botany and agriculture and this land, this very land you're standing on right now, will turn into the most beautiful greenhouse ever within months."

A pause.

"I feel like we might be making him into a comic book villain." Jane said.

"Who just so happens to know all the natural poisons found in nature." Ethan added.

"Maybe he should stick to cartoons for now, yeah?"

"Of course, of course. And ice cream. That's what kids like, right?"

"God, we are terrible at this. What would we ever do if -- Eddie actually comes and lives with us? After Alma's retired?"

"I suppose it's not too late to crack open those parenting books." Ethan supplied, glumly.

The two of them exchanged a short hug; Jane's face buried into his hair and Ethan against her shoulder.

"We are going to be good at this. It isn't much about Eddie's own intrinsic character, rather his upbringing and we're always going to be there in little Ethan's life, so there's always room to improve and evolve. Still am not used to calling him -- Eddie. How did Ethan evolve into Ed? Ed sounds boring. Eddie sounds -- juvenile. Almost kiddish. Perhaps we can address him by his middle name. Anyway, we are going to be there in that little boy's life and we're going to learn how to be a good uncle and aunt."

"A cool aunt, by the way. He told me that. You're the boring doctor one."

"No, I believe he said he specifically wanted to be a doctor. Just like his uncle." Ethan adjusted his blazer. "He looks up to me."

"Sure he does." Jane said, returning the smirk he'd sent her way not too long ago. "Setting off firecrackers and making them yourself is a lot more boring than, say, studying plant leaves for a hobby. Sure. Sure. Let's pretend even half of that is true."

"Oh can it." Ethan chuckled. "Also, it couldn't have killed you to teach me something useful. Would've used it on Leland when I had a chance."

"Oh yeah? I would've loved all that plant knowledge before I got absolutely wasted and hungover and then you tell me that blah blah blah plants have medicinal properties and can cure a headache."

"You're the worst." Ethan couldn't control his smile.

"You're terrible yourself." Jane exhaled, between peals of laughter.

***

Tagging From My Old List:

Perma: @quixoticdreamer16 @writing-not @trappedinfanfiction @tessa-liam @peonierose

Open heart only: @cariantha @jerzwriter @ofmischiefandmedicine

___

A/N:

Thank you so much Elsa for the prompt! I'll admit I was in a really bad Open Heart slump because I didn't know where to start or how to even, progress their story. For a while I'd just given up on it and then, I remember your Ask and boom, it all just sort of falls in place. It's silly, it's just utter foolishness and hopefully brings a smile to your face.

Jane and Ethan sort of remind me of Rosa/Pimento and Jake/Amy from Brooklyn 99 and Jane's totally the Pimento/Jake in the situation and it sort of helps me because Adrian Pimento is one of my favourite characters from sitcoms in general and I kind of see a lot of his quirks and chaos in Jane.

Ethan feels like a mix of an excited Amy with the organisation and filing and all those strict restrictions he gives himself while having the personality of Rosa, if that makes sense.

And also I went down a rabbit hole of chemistry related videos, so -- don't blame me for translating my hyperfixations into fiction lol. I wish I could recreate at least half of the stuff Jane's got upto, but that would likely get me arrested or worse, kicked out from the country jk jk no, but still, you get the idea.

Okay I'm rambling. I'll see you guys soon! Thank you for reading!

#ethan ramsey x f!mc #w:inlocusmads #ethan x jane #open heart #askboxed! #jerzwriter

[rinnysega]

Tata’s Secret Santa Drabble

I got @cheetour for the SPLAT Secret Santa gift exchange, so here is a little fluffy drabble combining her hyperfixations of Encanto and Pokemon!

It was the dawning of a new day as little Mirabel and Camilo Madrigal raced down the stairs to start their first official day as Pokemon trainers. Just a few days past her tenth birthday, Mirabel was excited to get her first Pokemon while Camilo had been waiting several months so they would get their first Pokemon together. It was, as Camilo would lament about for months, freakin’ ridiculous.

Waiting for them on the kitchen table surrounded by flowers and confetti were two pokeballs for the children – each with a card with their name on it containing their first Pokemon picked out specially by their parents and with the aid of their siblings who helped catch them.

It was a fact Isabela rubbed in Camilo’s face the past couple days knowing just how excited he was to find out what Pokemon his family had chosen for him. Very much a long weekend of “I know something you don’t know” and Dolores playing dumb whenever Camilo would go begging for her to tell him what he got.

Mirabel on the other hand was about as ditzy and aloof during her waiting period as her Tio Felix’s Dragonite.

“Good morning, ninos.” Julieta was busy preparing for the clinic that morning, letting her companion Butterfree sprinkle sleeping powder into an ingredient pouch. “Are you both excited for your big day?”

“Morning, Mama. Is this one mine?” Mirabel ignored the question and picked up the pokeball for Camilo who snatched it from her hand and tossed her the one with her name on it. Without missing a beat she smiled wide – teeth missing. “Oh, I hope it’s a Butterfree like yours Mama.”

“You know, when I got Butterfree, she was just a little Caterpie.” Julieta pet her hair and slipped the pouch into her apron. “Just like your father’s Beedrill used to be a-”

“-Weedle!” Camilo interjected.

“Well, well,” Julieta beamed and ruffled his curls too, “someone’s been studying.”

“I sure have. I’m going to be the resident Encanto Pokemon Master!”

“I just think they’re neat,” Mirabel said, looking at her pokeball.

“Your Tio’s waiting for you outside.” Julieta finished packing her basket as her Butterfree got ready to head out the door with her. “He’s going to teach you everything you need to know about Pokemon.”

Isabela passed by into the kitchen with her Ivysaur to which Mirabel shouted, “Hey Isa! I got a pokemon now!”

“She knows.” Camilo glared at his cousin.

Isabela on the other hand ignored him and returned her sister’s remark with a kind smile. “You sure do! Why don’t you open it up and see what it is?”

To the shock of her older sister, Mirabel slammed the pokeball down with zero remorse for the creature inside, and out sprang a...

---

“How come I got an Eevee, Tio?”

Outside Casita, Bruno was stretching, as if he himself were about to go into battle. His niece and nephew stood a few feet away, both their new Pokemon sitting on the grass looking about as absent-minded as Pepa’s Raichu.

It was safe to assume the couple’s Dragonite and Raichu were a match made in Heaven.

“Because Mirabel, your gift has the potential to be so many things,” Bruno said. “A perfect blank slate destined for so many options without being confined to just one gift.”

Camilo raised his hand. “Why did I get a Ditto, Tio?”

“You change shape sometimes.”

“Cool!” both children shouted.

“Alright.” Bruno stood up and clapped his hands together. “You guys ready to learn how to battle?”

Mirabel raised her hand.

“Yes, Mira?”

“What if we don’t want to fight?”

“Well, you have to.”

“Why?”

“You just have to. If someone sees you walking around minding your own business, they’ll block your path and say some random shit like “The important thing is not how long you live, it’s how you live it” or “I like wearing shorts!” and then that’s it – you have to fight.

“Even if we’re kids?”

“Especially if you’re kids. Most of these troglodytes have like 3 Level 8 Pidgeys and they see some marks like you two and think “Yeah, this is an easy way to earn some money.”

“What’s this about money?” Camilo asked, hand raised again.

“Well if you lose, you have to pay the winner.”

“Tio?” Mirabel raised her other hand and kept both in the air. “Who made these rules?”

“They’ve always been around.”

“But Abuela’s in charge of Encanto. Can’t she change the rules?”

“Abuela benefits the most from these rules. You think Casita makes your fancy clothes and pays for all your food? No, that’s your Abuela and her Kangaskhan standing outside the plaza bars on Friday nights. Some nobody paid for all your ceremony clothes because he was too drunk to remember his Kingler doesn’t know Flamethrower.”

“Oh.” Both children said with as much enthusiasm as a eulogy.

“Yeah, so no more questions.”

Bruno took his two pokeballs from his ruana and let out his Raticate and Magikarp.

“How come you have two Pokemon and everyone else only has one, Tio?” Camilo asked.

“A certain someone who shan't be named thought I predicted her fish would die, but he’s just like this.” He gestured to his Magikarp flopping about in the dirt. “I felt bad for the poor thing so I took him in.”

“Easy defeat,” Camilo boasted and ordered his Ditto to transform. Instead of transforming into the Raticate, he chose the way of the fish, and he too flopped about in the dirt.

Mirabel’s Eevee immediately fainted after the Raticate looked at it. Poor thing had social anxiety.

“See that?” Bruno said to her. “You just lost your first match, Mira, so pay up.” He held out his hand and Mirabel begrudgingly handed over her birthday money.

“Let this be a lesson,” he said, “don’t let this happen to you out in the wild.”

Camilo walked over and picked up his Magikarp-Ditto to put in front of the Raticate. He immediately transformed into a Raticate, went feral, and bit the shit out of Bruno’s. Bruno’s Raticate immediately threw the match because damn, biting hurts.

“Pay up, Tio.” Camilo held his hand out.

Bruno grumbled and handed over Mirabel’s birthday money to him.

“Hell yeah, I’m gonna be a pokemon master!”

#cheetour #encanto pokemon crossover #I tried to mimic tatas writing style because she’s one of the funniest people I know and I wanted to do her justice with some fluff! #happy holidays everyone!!

[justanisabelakinnie]

Have some OC Incorrect Quotes Because I Felt Like It.

Emiliana, threatening the others with a paintball gun: Listen... Life comes at us fast. We don't know what life is gonna give us... And today, it's gonna give you... a paintball! 

~ 

Emiliana: If I'm really as evil as you say I am, then have the gods strike me down where I stand.  *Lightning strikes Emiliana*  Emiliana: Ha! Nice try, jackass! Next time, give it your A-game! 

~ 

Camilo: *transforms to look like Emiliana*  Emiliana: Okay, are you like BLIND? You look nothing like me. First off, I'm way taller. Secondly, I DO NOT look so sleep deprived and lastly, if you could drag comb through that hair you're like a 7 on a good day and I've been told I'm a constant 10. 

~ 

Emiliana: I’m gonna need a human skull and I can't have you ask any questions why. Monika: Only if you also don't ask why Monika: *Pulls out 7 pristine human skulls* Take your pick. Emiliana: Monika: Emiliana: This one is fine 

~ 

Emiliana: Bad things keep happening to me, like I have bad luck or something.  Mirabel: Emiliana, you don't have bad luck. The reason bad things happen to you is because you're a dumbass. 

~ 

Emiliana, addressing the squad: And if you have any suggestions feel free to put them in the suggestion box. Yamilet: But – that’s just a trash can. Emiliana: It sure is! 

~ 

Emiliana: Change is inedible. Yamilet: Don't you mean inevitable? Emiliana, spitting out coins: No, I did not. 

~ 

Yamilet: Don’t worry, I have a few knives up my sleeve.  Emiliana: I think you mean cards.  Yamilet, pulling knives out of her sleeves: No, I do not. 

~ 

Mirabel: Are you the big spoon or the little spoon?  Emiliana: I'm a knife.  Camilo, from across the room: She’s the little spoon. 

~ 

Emiliana: We need to get through this locked door. Yamilet, give me your credit card. Yamilet: Here. Emiliana, pocketing it: Thanks. Mirabel, kick down the door. 

~ 

Emiliana: On the count of three, what's your favorite cake? One, two, three- Emiliana and Yamilet, in unison: Chocolate cake peanut butter frosting with chocolate chunks! Mirabel: Our turn, Camilo! One, two, three- vanilla! Camilo, deadpan: I've never had cake, what is cake. 

~ 

Emiliana: Yo is Camilo sleeping or dead?  Yamilet: Hopefully dead, I hated their guts.  Mirabel: Yeah, so did I.  Camilo: Okay first of all, fuck you-- 

~ 

Emiliana: Is something burning?  Camilo: Just my love for you.  Emiliana: Camilo, the toaster is on fire. 

~ 

Monika: You're 'the second worst thing to ever happen to those orphans', what does that mean? Isabela: It means i was second worst thing to happen to those orphans. Monika: but what’s the first worst thing? *Awkward pause* Isabela: Monika, they...they weren’t always orphans. Monika: 

~ 

*Monika and Isabela sitting in jail together*  Monika: So who should we call?  Isabela: I’d call Dolores, but I feel safer in jail. 

~

Emiliana: Here’s a fun Christmas idea. We hang mistletoe, but instead of kissing, you have to FIGHT whoever else is under it.  Camilo: Emiliana no.  Mirabel: Mistlefoe.  Camilo: Please stop encouraging her. 

~ 

Dolores, whispering to Emiliana, who’s on the phone with Camilo: Ask them something!  Emiliana: How are you feeling?  Camilo: Fine.  Dolores: Something personal!  Emiliana: At what age did you first get your period? 

~ 

Camilo: Hey, Mirabel? Can I get some dating advice?  Mirabel: Just because I’m with Yamilet doesn’t mean I know how I did it. 

~ 

Camilo: She stole from me first!  Emiliana: Mhm.  Camilo: Stole my heart...  Dolores: It is still illegal to commit murder. 

~ 

Yamilet: I love you guys, you're the best thing that's happened to me. Mirabel: We're the best thing that's ever happened to you? Yamilet: Yes! Emiliana: I'm starting to feel a little sorry for you. 

~ 

Yamilet, trying to ask Mirabel out: Would you like to stay for dinner?  Emiliana: WOULD YOU LIKE TO STAY FOREVER? 

~ 

Mirabel: Did Yamilet just tell me she loves me. 

Emiliana: Yep. 

Mirabel: And did I just do finger guns back? 

Emiliana: Yep. 

Mirabel: Oh. 

Emiliana: Oh. 

~ 

Isabela: Come on, I wasn’t that drunk last night.  Luisa: You were flirting with Monika.  Isabela: So what? She’s my partner.  Luisa: You asked her if she was single.  Isabela:  Luisa: And then you cried when she said she wasn’t. 

~ 

Monika: I've already sent good vibes your way…they’re coming. There’s nothing you can do to stop them.  Isabela: This is the most threatening way I’ve ever been cheered up. 

~ 

Monika: This is a mistake.  Isabela, enthusiastically: A mistake we're going to laugh about one day!  Monika: But not today.  Isabela, still enthusiastic: Oh, no. Today's going to be a mess. 

~ 

Isabela: Monika and I are having a baby.  Camilo: That's gre--  Isabela, slamming adoption papers on the table: It's you, sign here. 

~ 

Camilo: That’s ridiculous! Emiliana doesn’t have a crush on me! 

Mirabel: Yes she does. 

Yamilet: Yes she does. 

Dolores: Yes she does. 

Emiliana: Yes I do. 

~ 

Mirabel: What do you call a duck with fangs? 

Yamilet: A FUCK! 

Mirabel: 

Yamilet: 

Mirabel: 

Mirabel: Count Quackula. 

~ 

Monika: WHY. why did you give Dolores a KNIFE?! Isabela: I’m sorry. They said they felt unsafe. Monika: Now I feel unsafe! Isabela: I’m sorry. Isabela: ... would you like a knife? 

~ 

Yamilet: I’m going to start a false crime podcast where I explain crimes that never actually happened. 

Emiliana: I’m going to do the crimes you explain, forcing you into having a true crime podcast. 

~ 

Luisa: Uh oh. 

Isabela: What? 

Camilo: Somebody’s in loooooove! 

Isabela: Yeah right. I just think Monika’s cool. It’s not like I lay awake at night thinking about her. 

Isabela: *later that night* Uh oh. 

~ 

Monika: Isabela and I don’t use pet names.  Camilo: I see. Hey, what do bees make?  Monika: Honey?  Isabela: Yes, dear?  Monika:  Camilo: Don't ever lie to my face again. 

#i guess you could just assume monika is signing for each and every one of these lol #that or she's using literal signs ahaha #isabela madrigal #isabela my beloved #isabela is best girl #emiliana jimenez #monika ortega #yamilet gonzalez #mirabel madrigal #camilo madrigal #dolores madrigal #luisa madrigal #encanto #oc #encanto ocs #black female ocs #emicami #monabela #yamibel #encanto incorrect quotes #isabela madrigal is a lesbian #mirabel madrigal is bisexual #camilo madrigal is bisexual

[orphancookie69]

Mike Dooley: Interview with a Past Life Regressionist

Your spiritual student always coming to you with another free event from Mike Dooley! This time it is an interview with a Past Life Regressionist. While, if I worked at it, I myself could do this-I am very excited to hear from a professional.

Introduction from Mike: Wonder is the golden key to all that your heart desires. Nothing holds one back more than a closed mind/heart. Big questions beget big answers! Get out of your own way towards success. We can transcend lifetimes. This is one big adventure into the illusions.

Introducing Marije: She is a past life regressionist. She is certified in Dolores Cannon Quantum Healing, why have I never heard of that before? That sounds amazing. Doorway book: Many Lives, Many Masters by Brian Weiss. She grew up with no religion and spirituality and used to not believe in reincarnation a decade ago. She found Dolores Cannon by a suggestion from her spirit guide after channeling. We are all gifted. Embrace the life you are living by asking your higher self what past life you should be reminded of.

The higher self is all loving, no ego, no limitations. Why did you choose you this lifetime? We are all here with a support system in a higher realm. Your higher self knows what you can handle and what you need to know. Your higher self wants you to trust your intuition. The frequency of earth has been rising, more people are tuning into their higher consciousness. We are in exciting times now and the years to come. You come from unconditional love. Learn from the journey to come back to the unconditional love.

You can do future live progressions or even go back to source in a session. There are different parallel universes you can visit. 2023 is a time of strong polarity, the best of the best during the worst of the worst. Dolores Cannon: 3 Waves of Volunteers. There will be an old earth and new earth. Choose the frequency of love. This has never happened before. Other space friends are watching the earth experience as it is important playground in the bigger picture of things. Don't choose fear, choose love. Love is new earth, Fear is old earth. An unprecedented split is coming. Stay centered and grounded. Be a bringer of light.

Ringing in the ears is just a different frequency. It is a sign you are going in the right direction and to New Earth. Soul families often reincarnate together in multiple lifetimes. The people we are closest with are the ones we grow from. I have seen some videos on TikTok saying that people debate where body parts are based on what earth you are in. Crazy.

Questions:

What if one can not be hypnotized? You go into natural hypnotic trance.

Are past lives species specific? You start as element. You make choices to have different lives.

Do we bring physical reminders of past lives into our current lives? Birth marks. Cells can have memories of past lives. Moles.

What if I was a bad person in a past life? Most of us have been.

How far back are you able to go? How many lifetimes have one had? Harder to tap into. It varies.

What if this is my first lifetime? Your first one is not human.

What if I don't see anything? It is feeling or knowing or sometimes seeing.

What if I am not too sure about reincarnation? There is a spectrum of believers. Access is all the same.

Do kids respond differently than adult? Readings are for adults only, kids have a grace period. Suggested after 18 years old.

Can you do your own regression? It is not common. With a guide, yes.

Will I remember everything? Yes.

Do our personalities stay the same when we reincarnate? It could be similar or different.

Can it be scary due to bad karma? Not in this kind of regression.

How do I recognize someone in my current life from a past life? Trust your gut. Or your reaction.

14 Day Past Life Regression Journey

This is a teaser for an upcoming course, but man that looks like a fun course. For a price you choose, money back guarantee. You just need an open mind and curiosity. I watched this live, and it had 20,000+ people watching! The chat and energy were great live. This interview made me want to finally start my past life regression class from Julian Jenkins. Loved this.

#spirituality #rant #mike dooley #interview with a past life regressionist #marije terulin #past life #reincarnation #14 day past life regression adventure #TUT #The Universe #Notes from the universe

[stagejeans4]

Level-Headed Programs For Sex Dolls - 1 Click Away

What does your diet consist related? Are you eating junk food or fruit, vegetables and whole-grains? A healthy baby it isn't just born involving LOVE continuing education good nutrition to work through the first hurdle, and conception. Being 100% determined to create your pregnancy happen is half fight as many aware today how strong our thinking can choose to be. If you are willing help to make it changes with the lifestyle and just how you study the world rare, especially many women ask. Can anyone help me get expectant? Could be a thing of history. Times have changed and n't invariably for much better so the way you live in order to offer reflect these changes. The same applies for treatments as how are we able to justify using drugs that women conceive when it chemicals something like this that is really a major regarding infertility. Go natural publicize the world a better place for ones baby. Third, assess your priorities in comparison to its practical love. In the first place, a camera your gag gift click here to use a practical if hilarious profit? If not, then you can invariably choose from among many gag fancy dress. If yes, then go for that toilet paper with various political personalities imprinted on it, the bathroom mug and toilet clock, and perhaps the poop-shaped piggy banks.

Your friend is expecting twice the bundle of some normal showering. So you are for you to be creating the twin baby shower invitation unique. Don't worry, you do not need to have be a poetic genius, there is also options. Things eventually got worse and the girl's mom even threatened her. Therefore, there had not been more communication between 2 families and she or he even pulled her son out of college to homeschooling him in order to avoid any more trouble in school or located on the bus. She was sort of contemplating homeschool anyhow, the actual situation just made solely easier. While home schooling, they explore the Bible seven days a week and right after years once they were discussing Galatians 5:16-22 about God not allowing those who commit sexual sin, jealousy, rage, and the like into Brand new Kingdom, her son eliminate and shared with her what had happened. Jackie worked hard on her behalf books. She believed that bestsellers require more when compared to a few months of show results. She spent two years on Valley of the Dolls and others years turning out Once Is Not Enough, The Love Machine, and Dolores. Invest in ovulation kit and basal thermometer or chart having a calendar a minimum of 3 months before you try to conceive your period. It is true that all girls have a 28-day cycle thus, making this an efficient way of determining private personal unique bicycle. There are of course some other popular fertility monitors supplied. Corsets - Think of tighter bustiers. They have boning that goes your bodice and laces or hooks in back. Corsets generally are tight in the waist to relinquish an hourglass effect even so they can be also loosley laced and worn as a great.

#huui

[ilovekazuhaa]

Encanto Masterlist!!!

Julieta Madrigal

The healer gets sick?

“You don’t have to suffer alone”

Had a few dreams about you, I can’t tell you what we did… (part 1) (part 2)

How it would be like being Julieta’s youngest child!!!

“I like you. In that way.”

How Julieta would be like if she had a child that was always getting hurt/doing dangerous things!!

The wingless angel (part 1) (part 2)

You know the strings of my heart

How Julieta would react having a child going through a “rebel” phase!!!

How Julieta would react to reader getting their gift!!!

A silent voice

The ugly duckling

Mine, all mine

Sure, mamá

Did you get enough love, my little dove?

“I loved you too”

How Julieta would be like with a very anxious child!

A Secret Kiss

Below zero beauty

The arepa bandit

How it would be like being Julieta’s “mini me”

Best friends with Julieta!

Pepa and Julieta sharing a lover!

Julieta comforting her child during their first period

“One Shot”

The one(s) that got away

Pepa Madrigal

Had a few dreams about you, I can’t tell you what we did… (part 1) (part 2)

How Pepa would be like if she had a child that was always getting hurt/doing dangerous things!!

“Mi reina”

How Pepa would react to having a child going through a “rebel” phase!!!

How it would be like being Pepa’s youngest child!!!

“I should have told you sooner”

Did you get enough love, my little dove?

Jealousy

How Pepa would be like with a very anxious child!

“My Little Firecracker”

How Pepa would react to reader getting their gift!

How it would be like being Pepa’s “mini me”

“You’re lucky I like you” Part 1 Part 2

Pepa and Julieta sharing a lover!

Pepa comforting her child during their first period

Clear skies

Pepa Madrigal NSFW alphabet

Mirabel Madrigal

How it would be like having Mirabel as an older sister!

How Mirabel would react to reader getting their gift!!!

Mirabel with affection deprived reader

Cuddles with Mirabel!

You only live once

Isabela Madrigal

How it would be like having Isabela as an older sister!

How Isabela would react to reader getting their gift!!!

Childhood friends to lovers with Isabela!

“Just let me be”

Luisa Madrigal (platonic only)

How it would be like having Luisa as an older sister!!

How Luisa would react to reader getting their gift!!!

“Just relax”

Dolores Madrigal (platonic only)

How it would be like being best friends with Dolores!

How it would be like having Dolores as a sibling!

How Dolores would react to reader getting their gift!

Camilo Madrigal (platonic only)

How it would be like having Camilo as a sibling!

How Camilo would react to reader getting their gift!

The arepa bandits

Antonio Madrigal (platonic only)

How it would be like having Antonio as a sibling!

How Antonio would react to reader getting their gift!

The arepa bandits

encanto oscars appreciation bc yes

part 1 part 2

[heretohelptheidiots]

Landing on your feet

The first weeks of your time with the Madrigals were an adjustment period and a half. Each of the Madrigal children, While still deferential to Senora Madrigal, were far less deferential than you. In truth, you didn’t know what to do with your time. Most household chores were done by the house. Cooking was also an absolute bust.

“Could you hand me the cilantro?” Julietta had asked. Simple enough task right? You looked at the dried ingredients, reading the labels for cilantro, trying to hurry.

“Oh, it’s not in there. The fresh leaves.” She corrected, inclining her head. You grabbed one set of green leaves and offered them. “No, dear, that’s mint, the other one.” You nodded, and grabbed the right one. There was one benefit to failing with Julietta. She wasn’t ever harsh about it.

You scarcely said a word most days, opting to nod dutifully to anything anyone had said. This, however, was not a state of affairs the Madrigal family would stand for.

Luisa and her generation made the first concerted efforts to draw you out. Luisa insisted that you come with them into town and help as much as you felt you could. Then on the walk home she would hang back with you and want to hear all about your day, and tell you all about hers. Isabella found the best way to keep you from nodding or shaking your head was to have her back to you, planting or doing some other task while you held a object for her. Camilo would take the forms of the villagers and tell funny stories about each of them. When she wasn’t busy with Mariano, Dolores would fill you in on the latest gossip around town. Antonio introduced you to each animal and encouraged you to have long conversations with them. Mirabel did everything in her power to become your best friend, barring Luisa, of course. Soon Senora Madrigal and her children began to assist in their own ways.

You would help talk Peppa down when Felix was elsewhere, and Felix would tell jokes when every he saw you. Julietta invited you to learn in the kitchen under the rule that you had to give verbal responses. Multiple different occasions you went with Augstin and managed to keep him from getting as badly stung, although you took on your fair share of stings in term. Senora Madrigal ( Please, call me Abuella.) would have you sit with her in the evenings and she would talk about her family’s history, teaching you what you needed to know to be a Madrigal. Bruno, who had been a godsend from the start, would make odd comments, and show off his rat tellenovelas, which were quite fascinating, if a little hard to follow on occasion.

One evening you found the nursery, where you had been put up with Mirabel until it was time/you and Luisa were ready to be espoused, to be oddly close and cramped. You slipped on a robe and walked to the courtyard, finding a spot on the floor to stare up at the miracle candle.

“You never came to any of the door ceremonies, did you?” A familiar voice asked from the shadows. You looked over and spotted Luisa standing there.

“No. I heard of them from my window but I wasn’t ever allowed here. I only ever attended a handful of church services, mother wanted to keep me pure.” You said, watching the glow of the candle again. It seemed brighter as Luisa stepped closer. She seemed to hesitate before plopping down next to you.

“Be honest, do you like it here?”

“Yes!” You said, giving her a confused look.

“You’re just super quiet. I just wondered.” You blinked.

“I’ve said more these past weeks than I’ve said in entire months.” Luisa nodded and scooted a little closer.

“So you don’t want to go away? You want to stay here, with me? I mean, from what Dolores said, well the vision said you’d stay which is what she had planned for you, and no body really asked you.” She took a quick breath. “You don’t have to stay if you don’t want, is what I’m trying to say, you don’t have to pick me.” You put your hand over Luisa’s, effectively shutting her up.

“The first time I saw you, I was probably ten. You were carrying a donkey. The next time I saw you was five years later, you placed a bridge over the river. I’ve felt drawn to you for so long, I don’t know what else to do” you smiled at her, “I can’t imagine being anywhere else, with anyone else.” Luisa’s eyes grew misty, and she cleared her throat. “What about you? You didn’t get a say either.”

“Me? I get to have you, and you think I’d have a single complaint. Everyone loves you! I love…” Luisa trailed off, locking eyes with you. You moved forward slightly, not 100% sure this was right but hoping like hell it was. Luisa met you in the middle, kissing you slowly, savoring the moment.

A gentle clearing of someone’s throat set you both jumping apart. Dolores stared down from the balcony.

“You might want to get to bed, your mama was stirring.” She said quietly. You both nodded but you took the seconds before hurrying up the stairs to kiss Luisa’s knuckles. It took a moment before you heard her follow you, stopping at the landing with a long pause and the darting away.

You settled back into the nursery, smiling to yourself as you thought about her. It looked like you landed on your feet.

#encanto #disney encanto #luisaxreader #luisa madrigal #Luisa/reader #fanfic #reader insert

[needs-to-stop-looking-at-valves]

Can we please have more fluff. Specifically one of julieta reacting to Luisa's first period since she got it before her older sister

Oh we absolutely can, i LOVE a good fluff prompt

"Mami! Mami!!!"

Julieta got up out of bed faster than she ever thought possible. There was nothing more nerve-wracking to a mother, than hearing her child screaming. She bolted out of the room with Agustín following right behind her, right into Isabela's room. Isabela and Luisa wanted a sleepover tonight, hence why both were there. Julieta was usually comforted by the flowers in the room, but now, they were her hellscape. She immediately looked at her freaked out daughters, with Isabela who was comforting a crying Luisa.

"Luisa! What happened?! Did you fall?!"

Luisa wiped her face free of tears as her parents approached her, but it seemed to only get worse.

"I w-woke up because I was thirsty, and there was blood all over the bed!"

Julieta looked over at the bed, taking note of a giant red spot. Agustín raised a brow as he looked over his daughters.

"Oh. So you didn't fall, didn't cut yourself anywhere?"

Luisa shook her head, and both the parents sighed in relief.

"Oh Gracias por Dios- it's okay, Luisa. Isabela had her period, JUST like your prima Dolores!"

Isabela, who was only a few months older than Dolores, had been whining that her prima got her period first. She seemed excited about it, a twinkle in her eyes.

"Wait, so I'm a woman now?! COOL!"

Agustín chuckled, gently patting her head.

"You're growing up, but not a woman just yet. You're on the road to it though! Now, I'm going to put your sheets in the wash, and mami is gonna take you to get a shower."

Julieta couldn't be more relieved. She took a hold of Isabela's hand, letting Luisa calm down with her papi. She looked down at Isabela, who looked oddly...chipper, for what was happening.

"So, how are you feeling?"

"Great! I thought you said this period thing was bad! I didn't even feel the bleeding!"

"Huh. Well sometimes people get lucky with symptoms."

Julieta got her a spare change of clothes, and started the water for her. Isabela got undressed, and Julieta was expecting to throw her bloody underwear in the bin, but saw nothing. She stopped her daughter, curiously eyeing her clothes.

"Wait, hold on. There's no blood on these. Are there any on your thighs?"

Isabela checked her thighs, and even her crotch, but shrugged.

"No?"

"Well then how did you...oh no."

Isabela didn't have her period. It was her younger sister, Luisa. They thought it was Isabela, given the fact that she was overdue for one, but apparently not. The bathroom door opened just a crack, with Agustín holding onto little (and still crying) Luisa's hand.

"Think we had a mix up. She thought it was pee, but nope."

Isabela scoffed, fists clenched in anger.

"What? It's not MY period?! No FAIR!"

Julieta lightly patted her daughter's head, handing her clothes back to her.

"Please be sensitive, Isabela, this isn't easy for your sister right now. Come here, mi bebé, let's get you cleaned up."

They swapped kids, but Luisa held her hands out to Agustín. He was always her favorite.

"B-but I want papi..."

Agustín leaned down to kiss her forehead, taking a second to wipe away her tears.

"Easy, mi vida. I'll be back. I know you're sensitive right now. I promise, after your shower, we'll take a nap in your room for as long as you'd like. I'll even go into town and get you something, would you like that?"

Luisa sniffed as she wiped her face yet again, before nodding.

"I...I want Bandeja Paisa."

Julieta and Agustín shared a look. Getting Luisa to eat was like Agustín NOT getting into an accident. Half the time they had to bribe her to eat, often with toys. But here she was, requesting such a big meal. Agustín nodded quickly.

"Yes! You can have that, absolutely! From the good place, not the other one. Anything else?"

"Can you make that hot chocolate too? Please?"

Agustín nodded again, trying not to look so excited. Their daughter, wanting to EAT!

"Of course! I'll make you ANYTHING! After you take your shower, okay?"

Luisa nodded, though she looked mourning as Agustín walked out with Isabela. She got undressed, and sure enough, blood ruined her underwear, and even her dress. Julieta got the water ready, and sat on the toilet as Luisa started to clean herself. She waited till Luisa was done (a good twenty minutes at least), before helping her dry off with a towel. She looked at her from under her towel, softly smiling at her.

"Now, you remember what I told you about pads? You're going to have to wear them now, okay?"

Julieta got one of the bigger pads from under the sink, and Luisa whined loudly.

"It's big and bulky. I hate it."

"I know, mi vida, but you have to wear it, until you get comfortable with a tampon."

"I don't want this."

"I know it's difficult, but you're a growing woman, you need to-"

"I DON'T WANNA BE A GROWING WOMAN!!"

Luisa stomped on the floor, causing a big indent in the size of her small foot. Julieta looked at her, and poor Luisa immediately started to cry again.

"Luisa, no-"

"I'm sorry mami! I didn't mean it!"

Luisa immediately hugged her mother, and Julieta gave her a good squeeze.

"It's okay, it's okay. I know you just aren't feeling well. You're going to be just a bit angry sometimes, it happens. Your tìo will fix the floor."

Luisa looked up at the glass mirror, whimpering.

"I'm s-sorry, Casita, I didn't mean to hurt you."

Casita's tiles fluttered and flipped, letting her know it was alright. Julieta helped her get dressed, showed her how to properly put the pad on her underwear, and went to take her to her room. To her surprise, Dolores and Camilo were there, alongside Félix. Dolores saw her immediately, and rushed over to hug her.

"I heard what happened, Lulu. It's okay, me and Camilo brought you stuff to make you feel better!"

Félix, who had clearly just gotten out of bed, nodded at Julieta.

"Dolores woke me up right when she heard something. Been up all morning making her cards and bringing her toys."

Camilo was holding a fair bit of the stuff, including a box of chocolates.

"I even brought my chocolate stash. It's not full, but you sound like you need it more than I do, so you can have what's left. And I promise nothing in it is half eaten."

Dolores smiled at her prima, clinging to her side.

"You can eat the chocolates, play with the toys, and I brought my makeup kit so we can do your hair and your makeup! Because I know you feel kinda gross right now, I know I did."

Luisa looked at her cousins, and immediately started to tear up again. She gave Dolores a squeeze that made SOMETHING in her pop.

"You're the best prima EVER!"

Félix chuckled as he ushered them to Luisa's room.

"I'll watch the kids if you make some coffee?"

"Sounds fair. And I'm pretty sure Agustín is picking up breakfast."

"Good, neither of us should be cooking today."

He chuckled as he went into the room with the kiddos. Julieta was about to go into the kitchen, when he noticed Agustín was still at the front door, Isabela at his side. She approached him, finding him arguing with some townspeople.

"What is happening here?"

Agustín gestured to a group of angry looking men.

"They're mad because I told them Luisa can't do her chores today. I TOLD them she's on her period, but they won't listen!"

One of the men huffed.

"I was promised my fence was going to be fixed today, I need someone to carry the lumber. It's just her period, can't she hold it?"

Julieta had never felt more offended. Grown men, trying to push her daughter, and so ignorantly. He was about to speak again, when Julieta grabbed his ear, making him yelp as she brought him to her level.

"She can't 'hold it', just like you can't control your tongue. A grown man, wanting to put a little girl to work. You should be ashamed. You will ALL do your work by yourselves today. I want no ifs, ands, or butts. Grosero, all of you."

She let go of his ear, and pointed at them to leave. They grumbled bitterly, but did so anyway. Agustín chuckled at his wife, a big, dumb look on his face.

"I love you, SO much. Let's have another baby."

"Let's focus on one baby at a time. Isa, see if you can find something nice for Luisa while you're out, something pretty."

"Was already going to, it's why I brought my purse!"

Julieta smiled, kissing her baby's face a few times.

"Such a nice sister. And you, are going to be a nice husband and get enough breakfast for everyone."

"I can't promise I'll fill up Camilo, but I'll see what I can do."

They shared a quick kiss, and Julieta watched as they left. This was a hard time for her baby, but she was lucky she had such a big family to care for her.

#not transformers #encanto #asks #Luisa's first period was AWFUL #she had every symptom under the sun #cramps bloating aches and pains and even period shits #seriously my girl was not having it #but thankfully it was a bit easier thanks to her family who pretty much gave her whatever she wanted #Isabela even got her unicorn cupcakes and made her any flower she wanted

[iceman-maverick]

randomized west wing ficlet: mrs. landingham + donna

mrs. landingham + donna moss, "stop moving, let me braid your hair."

preview: Josh is a good man, if not a little squirrely for her tastes. He’s kind and as smart as he is funny and he’d take a bullet for just about anyone who had a halfway decent word to say to him. And look where that got him. A collapsed lung, hours of invasive surgery, months of recovery if he even makes it that far, all thanks to a bullet intended for Charlie.

Mrs. Landingham is tired of burying her children.

word count: 1,600 and change rating: gen pairing: background josh/donna warning: itsotg spoilers, gun mention

author's note: dolores landingham should've been the main character of this show, but that's a conversation for another day.

“I don’t understand. I don’t understand, is- is it serious?”

It’s funny, the moments leading up to it. It’s not like a movie, where the tension heightens, the music swells, and all signs point to the big incoming Moment. It’s not like that at all. One minute you’re standing in a department store comparing the texture of wrapping papers and the next the world as you know it is over. The light has gone out.

She wonders what Donna was doing before all of this. It was getting late, there was no reason she should’ve been at the office. But she’s Donna, so no doubt she was elbow deep in legislative briefings or reorganizing the communal closet or sweeping the hallways. There’s no task too small, too thankless, too far below her caliber as far as Donna’s concern.

We all have a role to play , she told her one day over tea. A brief intermission to the typical flurry of activity, a moment of blessed tranquility while the men of staff gathered next door, gearing up almost certainly to disturb the peace. I’m here to serve, and whether that’s by taking notes or making calls or, heck, even  pouring the coffee, then that’s what I’m here to do.

She’s worth her weight in gold, that one. Josh doesn’t deserve her, none of them do.

But Josh doesn’t deserve this either.

“Yes, it’s critical. The bullet collapsed his lung and damaged a major artery.”

Toby, for all his artful prose and linguistic feats, is never one to mince words. She winces in sympathy for the poor girl. Her face is fallen, eyes wide yet unseeing. She stands there stunned for a beat before CJ ushers to a chair.

There’s almost never any warning signs for the worst day of your life. The sun rises, the traffic stalls, the doorman says hello. You carry on as always and then, suddenly, life is irrevocably altered.

She had been shopping when the helicopter on the other side of the world went down, but Mrs. Landingham was smoking on the porch when the sergeant and chaplain arrived.

The hours blur by, staff and agents and reporters buzzing around, all the while Donna quietly sits watching the clock like a sentinel. The First Lady spends some time in the waiting room with them all. The President is awake, groggy, and furious. It’s the best thing Mrs. Landingham has heard in years.

The First Lady also seems to snap Donna out of her haze, even just for a moment. Donna’s on her feet in an instance, hands twisting nervously as her eyes shift around frantically.

“Is there anything I’m supposed to be doing right now?” The First Lady shakes her head and urges her to sit down. “I mean, anything that Josh’s office is supposed to be doing? Should I be making sure it’s farmed out?”

Again, the First Lady taps the vacant seat. “No, I’m sure it’s being covered. You don’t have to worry about all of that, Donna.”

Donna huffs in response. Her eyes fall to the ground, her shoulders slump, and she collapses into the chair like a puppet cut loose.

The First Lady departs shortly after. The waiting room falls into an uneasy stillness as the hours tick on, only disrupted by the periodic updates from a nurse or an agent on his rounds. Donna begins pacing at the six hour mark. Mrs. Landingham watches her as she goes, back and forth, back and forth, back and forth.

Andrew used to move like that whenever a big game was on, nerves strung high as he did lap after lap around the living room. It drove his brother insane, Simon spending more of the game screaming at him to sit down than actually watching. You’re making me sick , he’d laugh, reaching into the bowl to lob popcorn at his brother’s back.

But there’s no popcorn here, no football to cheer for. There’s fluorescent lights and there’s paper cups stained by juice and there’s gauze wrappers all around.

And there’s Donna, whirling around the room in a storm of anxiety, and it’s making Mrs. Landingham sick.

“Stop moving, dear” She calls gently. Donna stops short and turns to face her, arms twitching at her sides.

“I - I just,” Donna falters, frown tugging at her lip. She shakes her head, eyes brimming with unshed tears and looks to the ceiling. “Why did this happen?”

She should tell her it’s in God’s hands now. She should tell her what the priest said at her sons’ funeral. There will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain .

But that was a load of crap then and still is today. Of course there was more death and pain, it never stops. Mrs. Landingham was a good wife, an upstanding citizen. Never missed a Sunday mass in over seventy years. She raised two boys, two brilliant, wonderful boys, with integrity and pride and then God dropped a bomb on them.

You never know when the worst day of your life will happen but it does, and the world turns on anyways.

For all the former things have passed away .

Josh is a good man, if not a little squirrely for her tastes. He’s kind and as smart as he is funny and he’d take a bullet for just about anyone who had a halfway decent word to say to him. And look where that got him. A collapsed lung, hours of invasive surgery, months of recovery if he even makes it that far, all thanks to a bullet intended for Charlie .

Mrs. Landingham is tired of burying her children.

“I don’t know,” she finally says. “But it’s terrible. Just terrible, and there’s nothing we can do but wait here and pray.” She extends her hand out to Donna, who wipes at her eyes and moves to sit beside her. Mrs. Landingham holds onto her hand there, and doesn’t let go when Donna drifts off into an uneasy sleep.

She wakes abruptly a few minutes later when a nurse comes in with an update. Some complication with the chest tube, it’s going to add another hour at the least to the procedure, but he’s stable and holding. Donna nods gravely, eyes glued to the tile below her, and Mrs. Landingham thanks the nurse. Donna stays slumped, eyes downcast, wordless for several minutes. She’s like stone,and it makes Mrs. Landingham ache.

She needs to do something. Her boys were so different when it came to things like this. Andrew was always more the type to run off and lick his wounds in private. He didn’t speak for days when his grandfather passed.

But Simon, oh her Simon was much more sensitive and prone to dramatics. At a moment’s notice he’d throw his hands around her waist, clinging desperately as he cried loudly over just about anything. A movie’s happy ending, the passing of an old dog, a test score less than he had hoped for. It used to strike her as silly then, and then panicked her when Simon said he was going to follow his brother to Vietnam. He’s softer , she told her husband one night, I don’t know if he’s strong enough .

At the funeral, one of the boys’ CO told her that Simon died with honor, trying to bandage and treat the wounded until his last breath.

There’s a strength to fragility, she supposes.

Jed used to talk like that back in the days he was still gunning to join the seminary. He’d call her from school at night, talking her ear off for hours about verses from Matthew. They’ve got it all wrong about all that turning the other cheek business, he’d tell her. Jesus wasn’t talking about pacifism, about forgiving and forgetting, he told her. It’s having the courage, the faith, to be vulnerable, to face harm and still trust God will provide .

She thought he had been full of it back then, 19 years young and pontificating about the state of the world from his dorm’s-eye view. But now, sat beside Donna, gentle and decent Donna, Mrs. Landingham thinks he might have been onto something.

“Let me braid your hair,” She says suddenly, shattering the silence. Donna turns her watery eyes and tilts her head in confusion.

“It’ll make you feel better, always will” Mrs. Landingham smiles at her.

Josh will be in surgery for the rest of the night, there’s no telling what the morning will bring. There’s not much she can do from the waiting room, she’s no king among men here but Mrs. Landingham knows that right here, right now what she can offer is a small moment of comfort to a kindhearted girl in need of it.

And that’s enough for her- she doesn’t have any other options.

Slowly, a small smile pulls at the corners of Donna’s lips. She nods okay and shifts in her seat. Mrs. Landingham gently cards her fingers through the soft, blonde hair before gathering it in a braid. Once she’s done, she unties it and starts over again. She gets through three passes before Donna’s out cold, the lines of tension in her face finally relaxed.

Hours later, when the surgery is finally over and Josh is thankfully, blessedly in the clear, Mrs. Landingham gently rouses Donna. The nurses call her forward with dozens of questions about allergies and support systems before finally relenting. She can go see him now, if she wants, they tell her. She nods eagerly, and the surgeon tells her to follow him. Donna takes a step in his direction but then stops and spins on her  heels, quickly crossing the room. She offers Mrs. Landingham her hand.

They see Josh together.

#tww prompts #tww fanfic #tww fic #donna moss #josh lyman #mrs. landingham #dolores landingham #jed bartlet #abbey bartlet #josh/donna #josh/donna fanfic #i loved writing this :)

[sapphirelass]

Two Peas in a Pod - Harry PotterxSister!Reader

Please note:

1: I don’t own any of the gifs used, nor any already established characters, so credit to the authors and original creators - You have done a phenomenal job :)

2: English is not my native language, as I was born and raised in Sweden. I have, however, studied English for almost a decade, so I don’t think it’ll be a problem, I just thought I’d let you know ;)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

For this one-shot I have taken inspiration from both the book and the film, as well as left out parts of the original dialogue that, for the purpose of this story, felt irrelevant.

Word count: ≈ 2400

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You probably already knew this, but still XD

(Y/N) - Your name

(Y/N/N) - Your nickname

(Y/H/C) - Your hair colour

(Y/H/L) - Your hair length

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

Two Peas in a Pod

Harry Potter and his twin sister (Y/N) were like two peas in a pod. Always had been. Supposedly, that was what happened when young magicians had to grow up with muggles, especially if those muggles were named “Dursley”. Harry was always more impulsive, whereas (Y/N) took on the role of the rational one, yet they had both been placed in Gryffindor house by the sorting hat four years prior.

It was now the first of September 1995, and last year had been a rough one. Lord Voldemort, the dark wizard who had killed Harry and (Y/N)’s parents, had just come back and despite their efforts, this holiday had been more miserable than any of the previous ones. Dudley and his friends, dementor attacks, and a general lack of communication with the wizarding world left the twins in a particularly bad mood. They arrived at Kings Cross, and after pulling Harry away from Draco Malfoy, (Y/N), her brother, Ron and Hermione boarded the Hogwarts express, and found a place to sit.

During the start-of-the-year feast, the small group of friends quickly realized that something was wrong. Their new Defence Against the Dark Arts professor - Dolores Umbridge - was a ministry employe, which was weird on its own, but the way she spoke, acted, and kept interrupting Dumbledore with shrill, irritating *hum hum*’s made them all feel queasy.

After a quiet discussion in the common room (and quite a bit of loud arguing between Harry and Seamus Finnigan), they went to bed, yawning, and not exactly looking forward to that year’s first period of DADA.

***

They entered the classroom, and to their surprise, Umbridge actually wasn’t there yet. Harry and (Y/N) shared a confused look, but went to sit down, Harry with Ron, and (Y/N) with Hermione. Eventually though, the professor did arrive, her unnaturally high-pitched voice bringing them all back to reality.

“Good morning, class!” she said cheerfully

There was a quiet murmur among the students, and Umbridge shook her head.

“Good Morning!” she said again, this time more sternly. “I expect you to answer me when spoken to.”

A slightly louder “Good morning professor” could be heard, and though Umbridge didn’t seem too pleased, she decided to move on with the lesson.

“Ordinary Wizarding Levels - OWLs” she started. “Your previous teachers in this subject have all been quite questionable choices, however this year things will be the way they were meant to. Open your books on page 4.”

A few minutes had passed before Hermione raised her hand and said “Professor, there is nothing in here about using defensive spells.”

“Using spells?” Umbridge asked, laughing nastily

“We’re not to use magic?” Ron asked

“You will be learning defensive magic in a safe, risk-free environment”

“But”, said Harry, rather angrily, “what good would that do? If we were attacked that wouldn’t be risk-free!”

“Ha!”, laughed Umbridge, “And who exactly do you think would want to attack a helpless child such as yourself? Besides, the education you will receive will be more than enough for you to pass your OWLs, and that is after all just what school is about.” She finished with a smirk, looking rather satisfied with her speech.

(Y/N), who had sat quietly this whole time shifted slightly in her chair, and exclaimed: “It’s not though!

“Sorry?” Umbridge asked, dumbfounded

“School isn’t solely about receiving good grades! It’s about preparing the students for life, and supplying them with the tools and knowledge necessary in order to succeed and improve. If we’re not going to do that, then why, may I ask, is this a mandatory course? It’s already starting to seem rather pointless to me.”

Harry was perplexed. How his sister always managed to, 1: use her words in such a remarkable way, and 2: remain calm through the most infuriating of situations was a mystery to him, however he turned his gaze back towards Umbridge, waiting for her reply.

“Nonsense” She said. “This course is compulsory, and rightfully so!”

“How though?” Inquired (Y/N), pushing it further than she probably should have. “Can you name any situation, apart from the exam, where your teachings will be of any help to us? Or didn’t the ministry consider that?”

That was the top of the iceberg.

“DETENTION!!” shouted Umbridge. “My office, 8:30 would you be so kind, Ms Potter.”

(Y/N) flinched. She wasn’t afraid to speak her mind, however detention was not something she had to endure very often. That was more Harry’s thing. She sank quietly back onto her chair, and Umbridge continued with her boring, unnecessary lesson, reciting facts and procedures they had all learnt about 4 years earlier. (Y/N) could feel her brother staring, practically burning a hole in her neck, but somehow, probably thanks to Ron, he kept quiet for the rest of the class.

An hour later, class ended and none of the Gryffindor students wasted any time getting out of Umbridge’s classroom. (Y/N) threw her stuff into her brown, leather bag and dashed out of the room without making eye contact with her brother or friends.

“(Y/N/N)!” Harry shouted. “Wait up!”

He caught up with his sister on the stairs leading down to McGonagall’s classroom.

“Hey, are you okay?”

Looking up at him with an annoyed stare she said “Yes Harry! Just brilliant!” with a sarcastic tone in her voice. She kept on walking, but Harry grabbed her shoulder. A few years ago, they had been roughly the same size, but Harry had grown A LOT, and was by now almost seven inches taller. All the quidditch training had apparently paid off too, and (Y/N) knew instantly that she would never be able to escape his firm, yet gentle grip. He glanced down on her with a worried look on his face.

“I’m serious!” he said. “Stop”

She turned around and faced him. “What?” She spat at him, suddenly noticing her icy voice.

“Sorry…” (Y/N) mumbled, “she just pissed me off. I’m fine.” Her facial expression softened and she met Harry’s eyes for the first time since class ended. He let go of her shoulders, and was just about to say something when a tall ginger came running at full speed and gave (Y/N) a supportive pat on the back.

“That was bloody brilliant!” Ron exclaimed. “(Y/N), did you see the look on her face? Bloody hell, she was angrier than Malfoy after Harry beat him in his first quidditch match!”

“Yes” stated (Y/N) simply, as Hermione made her way down the stairs, “I saw…”

“Oh cheer up!” stated Ron, “an hour or two of detention isn’t the end of the world. If you ask me, it was totally worth it!”

Hermione gave him a disapproving stare as (Y/N) sadly stated, “It might not have been the cleverest thing to do” Both Harry and Hermione blinked at her with a sort of “you-don’t-say?” kind of look as she kept on speaking. “But you must admit that it’s the truth? Defence against the dark arts has never been as important as it is right now. We are all going to die before the end of the year unless we learn and improve?!”

“You’re right.” Hermione muttered, and surprisingly, she smiled slightly. “But we’ll have to talk about that later, otherwise we’ll be late for transfiguration. Come on!”

***

The rest of the day went by rather quickly, and the quartet soon found themselves in front of the fireplace in the common room. It was about 8:20 when (Y/N) stood up, grabbed a jacket, and left for Umbridge’s office.

“Good luck!” Harry said, frowning deeply, “I’ll wait for you here.”

(Y/N) turned around quickly, “Haz, you don’t have to. I’ll be fine. You need your sleep and I have no idea how long this is going to take.”

Harry gave her a sort or irritated look, to which she sighed and left without a word.

“What do you think she’ll have her do?” Hermione questioned.

“I don’t know” Harry hissed, “but I’m sure she’ll tell me when she gets back...”

The remaining three looked at each other. Ron threw Harry a chocolate frog, and then - they waited…

***

*knock knock*

There was a slight clinking noise, like metal on china, followed by a repulsing “come in”. (Y/N) took a deep breath and pushed the door open.

“Ah!” chirped Umbridge, “Potter, sit down, will you?”

(Y/N) apprehensively made her way across the room to the chair her so-called “professor” had pointed at. She sat down and looked around nervously.

“You will be writing some sentences for me today, no” Umbridge said, as (Y/N) reached down to her bag to pick up something to write with. “no, not with your own quill. You’ll be using a rather special one of mine.” She smiled evilly, and pushed a black, pointy feather across the table.

(Y/N) grabbed it carefully and asked in a silent, trembling voice, “what should I write?”

“Oh, right! How about… ‘I must obey my superiors’?”

***

It was about three hours later, when (Y/N) slowly made her way back to the common room, red, hot blood dripping from her left hand leaving a small trail through the corridor. The pain had intensified, and was by this point almost unbearable. She took a quick detour to the girls’ bathroom, hoping to be able to clean herself up a bit before having to face her friends and brother. She had told him to go to sleep, after all, it was almost midnight by now, but she knew him all too well. The odds of him being in bed were absolutely zero.

She watched the thick, red liquid disappear down the sink and let a few tears fall, before grabbing some paper making sure no tears or blood could be seen. She had to make it through the common room up to the dormitories quickly though, since she was sure Harry would be able to tell she’d been crying, no matter how hard she tried to hide it. Sure, she could just tell him, but something inside her argued against that. He had been rather angry and distressed all summer, and she knew he wasn’t feeling much better now. Harry had enough to deal with without handling her problems too.

Entering the common room, roughly four seconds had passed before her brother was by her side.

“Hey,” he said gently, “everything okay?”

She nodded and mumbled a quiet. “Yes. ‘m tired though, night Harry”

She walked the stairs up to her dorm, leaving Harry behind. He simply stood there dumbfounded. What had just happened? “Oh… okay, night (Y/N/N)”

She didn’t answer…

***

The following morning, he found her at the breakfast table, slowly digesting a tiny portion of porridge. She was wearing one of his old quidditch jumpers underneath her cloak. He knew, because it was far too big for her, and the sleeves reached down to her fingertips.

“Hey,” he said, ruffling her (Y/H/L), (Y/H/C) hair, “Feeling better?”

“Sure, “ she murmured, slowly pulling the sleeves even further down. He gave her a supportive hug.

“But come on now, “ he urged her. “You can’t be sad forever. What did she have you do?”

“Nothing…”

“(Y/N/N)!”

“Just write some sentences. It was fine, rather dull to be honest with you.” She threw the spoon into the bowl, and pushed it away. “How are you feeling? Any bad dreams?”

“Always…” he muttered, shaking his head at the milk that had splashed out on the table, “could have been worse though.”

Harry made himself some toast, as Ron and Hermione joined them in the great hall.

***

A week or so later Harry had had enough. It was in defence against the dark arts, on a rather cold Tuesday afternoon that he finally snapped, and shouted at professor Umbridge, who seemed almost too happy for a reason to give him detention.

The gang sat, yet again, around the fireplace in the Gryffindor common room, when Harry suddenly left and climbed through the portrait hole. He came back a few hours later, a downright furious look on his face, and walked straight up to his sister without even noticing the ghost he had stumbled through. He looked down at her smaller frame, his quidditch jumper yet again pulled over her head.

“Let me see, ” he said through gritted teeth, causing (Y/N) to look up at him, trying her best to act confused.

“Wha…”

“(Y/N) - let. me. see.” he repeated firmly, his emerald eyes penetrating the mental wall behind which she had been trying so hard to hide her troubles.

She closed her eyes and pulled her sleeve up to her elbow. The blood had naturally dried, however five heart wrenching words were etched into her still red, irritated skin.

I must obey my superiors

No one said a thing. (Y/N) was staring at the floor, not daring to meet her brother’s eyes, all while Harry felt madder than he ever had before.

Madder than when Dudley had been pushing him around the school yard.

Madder than when Malfoy had taunted him because of the dementors.

Madder than when he had found out that his aunt and uncle had lied about their parents true fate for almost 10 years.

This was his sister, and it was far from okay.

Without thinking, Harry was just about to shout at her for keeping something like that from him, when he noticed that she was crying. Soft, quiet sobs that she were clearly trying to hide. It felt as if all his anger simply washed away, and he crouched down and took her hand in his.

Harry’s hand was still covered in blood. He hadn’t had time to clean it, but had instead taken the shortest way to the common room, after realizing what had happened. Raising his right hand, he pulled her closer and felt her lean her head on his chest. They sat like that, arms wrapped around each other, for hours and slowly started drifting off to sleep.

Were they okay? Not at all. Would they be? Absolutely! Because they had each other, and when it really came down to it, that was all they needed, as the Potter twins were just like two peas in a pod.

~ L

Masterlist

#harry potter #harryxsister #harry potter x twin #harry potter x sister #harry potter x sister!reader #harry x reader #harry x sister!reader #umbridge #detention #hp #hp imagine #stories #sister #siblings #twins #harry x sister

[james-joyces-right-eyeball]

Absolute Favorite Books I’d Recommend to Anyone

This is a list of my top-tier favorite books that I would recommend/talk about endlessly to pretty much anyone (in no particular order). I know people probably don’t care but I just like talking about books I love so here we are.

Beloved - Toni Morrison

~ Based off the real story of Margaret Garner, a slave woman who escaped slavery and when captured killed her child in order to prevent them from ever being enslaved again, Beloved tells the story of a mother named Sethe, born in slavery who eventually escaped and is haunted by the figurative demons of her trauma and the literal (arguably) ghost of her dead daughter, who she herself killed. It is an excellent exploration of the horrors of slavery and of the haunting legacy of the institution for those who were subjected to it.

Lolita - Vladimir Nabokov

~ If you’ve been on Tumblr for a while, you probably know what Lolita is. The story of the predatory Humbert Humbert who lusts after, rapes, and kidnaps the “nymphet” Dolores Haze. An excellent construction of how predators, unreliable narrators in their own right, hide behind fabrications, almost-believable excuses, and pretty words to make their actions seem maybe not so bad. In the words of the book itself, “You can always count on a murderer for a fancy prose style.”

Ulysses - James Joyce

~ Notoriously one of the most difficult books in the English language, Ulysses lifts its structure from Homer’s Odyssey to tell the story of a common man, Leopold Bloom, as he goes about his day. Yes, this book takes place over the course of only one day. We follow Bloom as well as Joyce’s literary counterpart Stephen Daedalus through their thoughts and actions, gathering details of their lives previous throughout. It’s a book that, in my own words, “is life”. It is sad, funny, strange, vulgar, disgusting, beautiful, revelatory, sensual, and nonsensical all at once. Joyce aimed to create a reflection of life through his stream-of-consciousness style which some people might find confusing, but I personally find absolutely beautiful and honest and realistic. The prose is also gorgeous, but that could be applied to everything Joyce wrote. 

Wuthering Heights - Emily Bronte

~ The classic gothic book that tells the tale of Heathcliff and his ultimately destructive love of Catherine Earnshaw, whose eventual marriage to someone else and the general mistreatment of him by her family drives Heathcliff insane and he spends the rest of his life trying to take revenge by abusing and torturing the next Earnshaw and Linton (the family into which Catherine marries) generations. If I’m being honest, I like this book mostly because of how wild and dark it is, but the writing is also genius and beautiful. I think the book also carries an interesting view of the destructive nature of revenge, overzealous love, and othering.

A Tree Grows in Brooklyn - Betty Smith

~ A coming-of-age story at the turn of the century that tells the story of Francie Nolan, a young bookish girl growing up in a lower class family in New York City. It tells about her father’s struggles with alcoholism as well as her mother’s struggles to deal with that and at the same time raise Francie and her brother. Francie is confronted with a strange, uncertain world as a young girl, but tries to face it with bravery throughout childhood

Little Women - Louisa May Alcott

~ Another coming-of-age story, this time about four young sisters: Meg, Jo, Beth and Amy March. You are probably familiar with this book already; it’s had more movie adaptations then I can possibly remember off the top of my head. It’s the story of four sisters as they try to navigate growing up, love, and loss during the mid to late 1800s.

The Color Purple - Alice Walker

~ A novel that tells the story of Celie, a young black woman who is raped and then married young to a man who will go on to use and abuse her, through her letters to God. Throughout the novel she meets Shug Avery, a woman with whom she eventually falls in love and begins a relationship with. Through this and her eventual freedom from her abusive husband, she is able to gain at last her own sense of self and take back control over her life, a life no longer ruled by the abusive men around her.

The Bluest Eye - Toni Morrison

~ The tragic story of young black girl Pecola Breedlove, who wants nothing more than to have blonde hair and blue eyes just like the women she sees in the movies. Both a deconstruction of the whiteness of beauty standards as well as how these standards can utterly destroy vulnerable young girls, it is also an exploration of the people who allow these sorts of things to happen, including Pecola’s mother and father. The Bluest Eye, I think, showcases one of the aspects of Toni Morrison that I like the most, that I aspire to the most: her ability to enter the minds of all people, even people who you might despise at first. Her characters, especially Cholly in The Bluest Eye, are ones you might not entirely sympathize with, but they will always be ones you understand.

The Bell Jar - Sylvia Plath

~ Based off of the author’s own experiences as a young college student, The Bell Jar tells the story of Esther Greenwood, whose depression over her place as a woman in a patriarchal society as well as her inability to choose a life path for herself leads to a suicide attempt and a subsequent stay in a mental hospital. A very nuanced portrayal of mental illness, especially anxiety and depression, The Bell Jar is an extremely moving and relatable story for me and clearly is as well for others. It is a classic for a reason.

I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings - Maya Angelou

~ A memoir of Angelou’s childhood, this book tells the story of her experiences living as a black girl in the south with her grandmother and brother as well as her later years living with her mother. It also tells of how she was raped by her mother’s boyfriend when she was around eight or nine, and how she struggled to live with that and find her voice, both literally and figuratively. A wonderful book about overcoming struggles and the power of words and literature in such times.

Invisible Man - Ralph Ellison

~ Ellison’s novel tells the story of a young black man, never getting a name in the text, and his feelings of invisibility and his struggles to find a place in society to belong. His struggles only lead him further into despair, until he decides to “become invisible” as people seem not to see him as a person anyway. Invisible Man is an exploration of American mid-century racism and the isolation it causes to those subjected to it. Not only that, but it is surprisingly relevant to our times now, especially on the subject of police violence. (Personal anecdote: When I first read this book, when I got to the aforementioned police violence part it was right in the middle of the BLM resurgence last summer and I cried for a good twenty minutes while reading that chapter over how nothing had changed and it still hurts me to think about it. Embarrassingly, my dad walked in on me while I was crying, and I had to quickly explain it away.)

A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man - James Joyce

~ The title basically says it all lol. This book tells of the coming-of-age of Stephen Daedalus (the same one from the later-written Ulysses). His sensitive childhood, his awkward and lustful adolescence, his feelings of Irish nationality and Catholic guilt, and his struggles to fully realize himself, both as an artist and a human being. It is a very hopeful story, and one that I love mostly because I relate so much to Stephen Daedalus as an artist and as a person.

One Hundred Years of Solitude - Gabriel Garcia Marquez

~ A magical-realist intergenerational family drama, Marquez’s book traces the various lives and loves of the Buendia family over the course of (you guessed it!) one hundred years. A beautifully written, at times extremely emotionally moving and chilling masterpiece, Marquez in a way retells the history of Colombia, of its colonization and exploitation.  

Anna Karenina - Leo Tolstoy

~ A classic Russian novel of society and love, Tolstoy tells the story of Anna Karenina, married, wealthy woman with a child she adores. However, she falls in love with another man, Count Vronsky, and comes to a tragic end for her love. The parallel story of the novel is that of Konstantin Levin, a wealthy landowner who also struggles to find fulfillment in his life and understand his place in society.

The Sound and the Fury - William Faulkner

~ A novel that features an entire family of unreliable narrators, The Sound and the Fury details the fall of a once-prominent southern Compson family and always-present place of the past. There are four different narratives: Benjy Compson, a mentally disabled man who is unsure of his surroundings and of time and only knows that he misses his older sister Caddy; Quintin Compson, the eldest son and a Harvard man both obsessed with his sister retaining her “purity” and the fact that she failed to do so and had a baby out of wedlock, going as far to claim it is his baby in an attempt to preserve something of the family reputation; Jason Compson, who is the caretaker of Caddy’s daughter and believes her to be going down her mother’s “sinful” path; and Dilsey, the black maid of the Compson’s who unlike the people she cares for is not weighed down by their history. The narratives take place in different time periods and is in a stream-of-consciousness style. It’s a deeply dark and disturbing novel about the haunting nature of the past, a common theme in Faulkner’s work (see Absalom, Absalom! for more of this).

Song of Solomon - Toni Morrison

~ It is the story of Milkman Dead, a young black man growing up in the south and his relationship with his very complicated family. To say anymore would be to spoil the novel, but I will say that it is an excellent book about family, self-fulfillment in a world that tries to deny you that, and, like The Bluest Eye, exhibits Morrison’s excellent character work.

Cat on a Hot Tin Roof - Tennessee Williams

~ A play which takes place on the patriarch of a family’s birthday in the oppressive heat of the midsummer south, Williams’ play explores lies, secrets, and how repression only results in anger, frustration, and sadness. It’s a tragic but brilliant play that I think was very ahead of its time. If you’ve read it (or do read it) then you know what I mean.

Giovanni’s Room - James Baldwin

~ This book tells the story of a young man and his love of another man named Giovanni while he is in Paris. It is a book about love, queer guilt, and has what I would call an ambiguous ending. There is uncertainty at the end, but there does seem to be some kind of acceptance. It is a bit of a coming-out story, but more than that it is a story of personal acceptance and at the same time a sad, tragic love story.

HERmione - H.D.

~ An underrated modernist masterpiece, HERmione is a somewhat fictionalized account of the author, Hilda Doolittle’s, experience as a young aspiring poet dating another poet (in real life Ezra Pound in this book named George Lowndes) who is a threat to her both physically and emotionally. It explores her own mental state, as she considers herself a failure and falls in love with a woman for the first time (Fayne Rabb in the book, Frances Gregg in real life). 

To the Lighthouse - Virginia Woolf

~ People think about going to a lighthouse. They do not. A couple years and a war passes then they do. That may seem like a boring plot, and you may be right. However, To the Lighthouse is not much about plot. It is more about the inner lives of its characters, a family and their friends, on two different occasions of their lives: one before WWI and one after WWI. Woolf explores in this novel the trauma that results from such a massive loss of life and security. Not only that, she also explores the nature of art (especially in female artists) in the character of Lily Briscoe and her struggles to complete a painting. It’s a short novel, but it contains so much about life, love, and loss within these few pages.

The Heart is a Lonely Hunter - Carson McCullers

~ A southern gothic novel about isolation and loneliness in a small town. Every character has something to separate them from wider society, and often find solace and companionship in a deaf man, John Singer, who himself experiences a loneliness that they cannot understand. There are various forms of social isolation explored in this novel: by race, disability, age, gender, etc. A wonderful, heart-wrenching book about loneliness and the depths it can potentially drag people to.

The Waste Land - T.S. Eliot

~ A modernist masterpiece of a poem, Eliot describes feeling emptiness and isolation. The brilliance of it can only be shown by an excerpt:

“Your arms full, and your hair wet, I could not Speak, and my eyes failed, I was neither Living nor dead, and I knew nothing, Looking into the heart of light, the silence.”

“The river’s tent is broken: the last fingers of leaf Clutch and sink into the wet bank. The wind Crosses the brown land, unheard. The nymphs are departed. Sweet Thames, run softly, till I end my song. The river bears no empty bottles, sandwich papers, Silk handkerchiefs, cardboard boxes, cigarette ends Or other testimony of summer nights. The nymphs are departed. And their friends, the loitering heirs of city directors; Departed, have left no addresses. By the waters of Leman I sat down and wept . . . Sweet Thames, run softly till I end my song, Sweet Thames, run softly, for I speak not loud or long. But at my back in a cold blast I hear The rattle of the bones, and chuckle spread from ear to ear. “

(My personal favorite line from this poem is, “I will show you fear in a handful of dust.”)

The Trial - Franz Kafka

~ The protagonist of the novel, Josef K., wakes up one morning to find that he has been placed under arrest for reasons that are kept from him. Kafka creates throughout the novel a scathing satire of bureaucracy, as K. tries to find out more about his case, more about his trial, but only becomes more confused as he digs deeper. There seems to be no rhyme or reason to the world he lives in, and the more tries to explain it the further the more that proves to be the case. An excellently constructed novel and a great one to read if you would like to be depressed about the state of the world because, though Kafka’s work is a satire, like a lot of his other work, it manages to strike a strangely real note.

Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are Dead - Tom Stoppard

~ An absurdist play that is a retelling of Shakespeare’s Hamlet from the perspective of minor characters, Rosencrantz and Guildenstern, who in the broad overview of the original play, do not matter. Throughout the play, they question their existence and the purpose of it and through that Stoppard dissects not only the absurdity of life, but how fiction and theater reflect that absurdity inadvertently.

As I Lay Dying - William Faulkner

~ The novel details the journey the Bundren family makes after the death of the family matriarch, Addie, to bury her. Each chapter offers a different narrative from the family members and those who surround them, revealing some ulterior motives to them “going to town” to bury Addie. The patriarch Anse desires a pair of false teeth, and the daughter Dewey Dell is pregnant and needs an abortion, as there is no way for her or her family to support it. It’s about the powerlessness of people in the impoverished south. The Bundrens are constantly subject to forces beyond their control, struggles which would be easily solved if they had the money to spare for it. There is more to the book, but that is my favorite reading of it, that of class. Faulkner’s ability to create distinct voices for every one of his characters shines through here.

And, last but not least:

The Collected Poems - Sylvia Plath

~ All the poems Plath wrote during her tragically short lifetime. The best way to demonstrate or summarize the book’s brilliance is just to show you. This is her poem “Edge”, which appears in the book:

“The woman is perfected.   Her dead Body wears the smile of accomplishment,   The illusion of a Greek necessity Flows in the scrolls of her toga,   Her bare Feet seem to be saying: We have come so far, it is over. Each dead child coiled, a white serpent,   One at each little Pitcher of milk, now empty.   She has folded Them back into her body as petals   Of a rose close when the garden Stiffens and odors bleed From the sweet, deep throats of the night flower. The moon has nothing to be sad about,   Staring from her hood of bone. She is used to this sort of thing. Her blacks crackle and drag.”

HOPE YOU ENJOYED! HAPPY READING TO ALL!

#dark academia #books and literature #toni morrison #james joyce #tennessee williams #virginia woolf #william faulkner #sylvia plath #plays #poetry #can you tell i like southern and modernist lit lol?

[shadoedseptmbr]

Writing tag game

Oh!  Wow, I was tagged by @whirrlinginrags @jicklet and @theoriginalladya

I’m pretty sure everyone on my dash has done this?  Maybe not?  HI YOURE TAGGED!

How many works do you have on AO3?

104!  O.O

What’s your total AO3 word count?

640529

What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

In Cupid’s Little Bag of Trix (Marvel/MCU, 1479 k)

Shelter (Dragon Age 2, 158 k)

apodyopis (Marvel/MCU 134 k)

Steal Away Home (Dragon Age 2, 114 k)

Unsaid (Dragon Age 2, 90 k)

Do you respond to comments, why or why not?

I do my very best.  I usually at least try and say thank you.  Sometimes the brain is unwilling :D  But I always want to thank people who make the effort to let me know they enjoyed something about the story AND I’ve made some excellent fandom friendships in comment chains <3

What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

if we go with published on AO3, then it’s dolore which was written for a tumblr angst challenge years ago.  

What’s the fic you’ve written with the happiest ending?

I am told that I am bad at happy endings and that even the stuff I think is happy is bittersweet.  I thought Violets to Bloom at Her Feet was a happy ending?  But maybe things will change now that I’m writing Mass Effect.  lol.

Do you write crossovers? If so what is the craziest one you’ve written?

not really.  I have occasionally alluded to a drive by sort of someone pops up in an odd world.

Do you write smut? If so what kind?

Yes!  Well, more in the past than i do recently, but yes!  Um...hopefully sexy?  I have generally written M/F pairings but I have written F/F in the past and will probably write M/M

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I know of.

Have you ever had a fic translated?

no

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

only once, and then i ended up writing the whole thing.  I’m sure my next experience will be much more fun and satisfying!

What’s your all-time favorite ship?

See, that’s tricky.  If I’m writing?  I’m still partial to my Sebastian/fHawke period.  I’ve been pretty safe reading other people’s Clint/Darcy.  I’m a big fan of shenko but i’m all kinds of picky.

What’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

all wips are ALWAYS in progress.  I have a couple that I may not use as they are, but the writing will get filtered into something.

What are your writing strengths?

Fanciful, small, poetical bits.  And dialogue, i have an ear for the voices and the quirks.  

What are your writing weaknesses?

Lots of those. :D  Sometimes i get far more abstract than I should. I like whiplash pov and I have definitely over used it.  I’m not great at combat writing.  

What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

there’s a technique to it and it needs good beta work from a speaker of that language, but I’ve done it and i will again. 

What was the first fandom you wrote for?

Black Stallion. (book not movie)  If we’re going with internet era, then Trixie Belden. It’s probably still out there somewhere.  The first ones I have on AO3 are probably BtVS

What’s your favorite fic you’ve written?

hush you, they’re all my favorites.  

I am, currently, really in love with my ME stories.  I did a good job with shore leave :D

#sept is writing #fic meme

[bulletballet-arch]

REALLY LONG  CHARACTER  SURVEY. RULES. repost ,   don’t  reblog !    tag 10 ! good  luck ! TAGGED. I took this from Minnie’s archived Bioshock blog. I’ve been looking for this meme all this month. TAGGING. @hammurabicomplex. @bluuxriising. @ Me - for Sal on @bulletsoverbensonhurst​. @immaterialed (charlie) @soypeor (bella) @svmmercmance​. @mrflayed. and you!

BASICS. FULL  NAME :  Eve Delores Littlejohn NICKNAME : Evie, Little Evie (by her maternal side of the family), Delores, Didi NAME  MEANING / S  Eve is from the ancient Hebrew name  חַוָּה (Chawwah), which was derived from the Hebrew word חָוָה (chawah) meaning "to breathe" or the related word חָיָה (chayah) meaning "to live". Delores is a variant of Dolores, meaning "sorrows", taken from the Spanish title of the Virgin Mary María de los Dolores, meaning "Mary of Sorrows." Littlejohn is a surname that has historically been found in England and Scotland. With potential origins being either ‘to distinguish a beloved child that was not the eldest.’ Or, ‘a contradictory nickname for a large man.’ HISTORICAL  CONNECTION? : She’s named after her grandmother, Evelyn Hollins.

AGE : 42 BIRTHDAY :  June 2 ETHNIC  GROUP : Black-American. Meaning she’s mixed with a lot (Some of her relatives are respectively Creole and Italian) but uses Black as a catch-all term. NATIONALITY :  American LANGUAGE / S : English, Italian, Spanish, Latin, some French SEXUAL  ORIENTATION :   Bisexual ROMANTIC  ORIENTATION :  Biromantic RELATIONSHIP  STATUS : Verse dependent, usually married -or connected- to Salvatore Scozzari in some way. CLASS : Upper-Class HOME  TOWN / AREA :   Brooklyn. Spent time between Bedford-Stuyvesant - with her paternal grandfather and Park Slope - with her maternal grandparents.  CURRENT  HOME : In her childhood home in Bedford-Stuyvesant. PROFESSION : Ballet Instructor. Former Professional Ballerina. ( Other verses see her as a professional thief. )

PHYSICAL. HAIR : Black. In terms of her natural hair, Eve has springy, 3C hair she seldom shows off because she was raised in a family where straightened hair was deemed presentable and professional.  EYES : Thin almond eyes. Dark brown. NOSE : Straight and small. FACE :  She has a prominent, high forehead, that’s accented with high cheekbones and a pointy chin. LIPS :  Full. COMPLEXION : She has a light brown (tawny) complexion.  SCARS : None major. TATTOOS : None. HEIGHT : 5′4″ BUILD : Eve has a slender build. One of those people who have been small and petite since childhood. Despite this, she also stays skinny because she is obsessively conscious of the food she consumes. The older she gets the more she weighs, however. USUAL HAIR STYLE :  Her hair is cut short. Reaching her shoulders in a neat, even bob. She either curls it in a retro fashion or curls the tips. For work she wears it in a traditional, pinned bun. USUAL FACE LOOK : In public, she appears stoic for the most part. Any emotion shown (such as the length of a smile) is carefully calculated. She has to seem perfect.  USUAL  CLOTHING : Form fitting dresses. Incredibly chic and fashionable for the time. Shoes include heels - never open-toed, unless she has on stockings. Extravagant earrings. Jewelry that can include either necklaces, crosses, pearls, or dainty rings. Prone to wearing black sunglasses in public.

PSYCHOLOGY. FEAR / S : Thunderstorms, airplanes, creatures like weasels, snakes and ferrets, break-ins, men she doesn’t know, harm coming to her children ASPIRATION / S :  Formerly wanted to become a major [black] ballerina in the elite world of ballet, now she just wants to expose more [inner city children] to dance through her job. Personally, she wants her children to change the world in some form or fashion, too. Eve also has good ideas on improving the community, but at the moment has no idea how to go about these ideas. POSITIVE  TRAITS :  Generous, compassionate, patient, protective NEGATIVE  TRAITS : Strict, sullen, hard to read, represses her emotions, secretive MBTI :  Advocate - INFJ-T ZODIAC :  Cancer TEMPERAMENT :  Melancholic ANIMALS :  Lioness VICE / S :  Pride & Lust FAITH : Christian. Grew up Baptist, but Catholic influences have been around her since childhood. Attended a Catholic High School in Park Slope, her grandmother Evelyn was also a practicing Catholic.  GHOSTS ? : Yes and no. She feels that objects formerly owned by the deceased posses the essence of their previous owners and that they essentially live on through these pieces of property. AFTERLIFE ? : Yes. REINCARNATION ? :  No, but it’s a romantic concept. ALIENS ? : No. POLITICAL  ALIGNMENT :  Democratic ECONOMIC  PREFERENCE :  She likes being where she’s at now. But honestly, being upper class is all she’s ever known. SOCIOPOLITICAL  POSITION : Bourgeoisie, basically. The Littlejohn’s represent The Historical Black Elite.  EDUCATION  LEVEL : College level. FAMILY.

FATHER :  William ‘Bill’ Littlejohn MOTHER : Linda Littlejohn ( nee Hollins ) SIBLINGS : None EXTENDED  FAMILY : Amos Littlejohn (paternal grandfather) Liza Littlejohn (paternal grandmother) Evelyn Hollins (maternal grandmother) Giuseppe D’Aietti (maternal grandfather) and a wide host of cousins, aunts and uncles.

FAVOURITES. BOOK :  Night Song by Beverly Jenkins. The Color Purple by Alice Walker. Some sort of old, French erotic novel that was published before she was born. MOVIE : Eve watches films along the lines of...Waiting to Exhale, Beaches, The First Wives Club and Fatal Attraction. She loves Made-For-TV movies from the time period. In regards to plays, her favorite one is Sunday In The Park With George. 5  SONGS :  Meet Me On The Moon / Essence of Sapphire / No One In The World / People / The First Time I Saw Your Face  DEITY :  Persephone  HOLIDAY : New Years Eve, Christmas, Thanksgiving. Major holidays during the colder season. MONTH :  October SEASON :  Autumn PLACE :  The dance studio she works at. WEATHER : Sunny, but cool. SOUND : The voices of Anita Baker and Sarah Vaughn. A skilled hand running over piano keys. Soft trumpets. Running water. Cats making chipper little meows. SCENT / S :  Perfume, floral scented lotions, her partner’s cologne TASTE / S :  Caramel, the tang of dark chocolate, strawberries coated with either chocolate, or sprinkles of white sugar. Light Vinegar.  FEEL / S : Performing in front of an audience. Hot water engulfing your skin after a long day. Satin - whether it be the fabric of her clothes or sheets, your fingers tightly intertwined with another’s, feeling your significant other’s chest raise and lower against your skin with each breath they take. ANIMAL / S : Cocker Spaniels, Afghan Hounds, Cats, Birds - she loves all ( well, a majority ) of animals. NUMBER :  Doesn’t have one. COLOR :  White, Pink, Gold.

EXTRA. TALENTS :  Dance, Eve is trained in ballet when it comes to her main verse. She has attended ballet classes since the age of eight and ever since then she placed all of her focus into it. Similarly, Eve has always had the makings of a good artist - as a child she enjoyed drawing and had informal art lessons with a man who lived in the basement of her grandfather’s brownstone, but she never invested into that half of her. BAD AT : Singing, Being interviewed, Public Speaking (as in Speech Giving), Decision Making TURN  ONS :  Charisma, Leadership Skills, Temperature Play, Phone Sex, Heavy Kissing, Light Roleplay TURN  OFFS :  Public Sex, Tearing [ Her ] Clothes, Threesomes, Cruelty, Senseless Violence HOBBIES :  viewing plays & some musicals, reading romance novels, shopping, working out (she was into the whole celebrity VHS tape exercise trend), playing tennis, decorating AESTHETIC :  Vintage Black Glamour, Black Ballerinas, Champagne and Wine Glasses, Paintings by Melinda Byers and Edward 'Clay' Wright QUOTES :  "I'm bad with words, I hope you're good in reading eyes." / "There are truths I haven't even told God. And not even myself. I am a secret under the lock of seven keys."

FC INFO. MAIN  FC / S : Lynn Whitfield ( A Thin Line Between Love & Hate ) ALT  FC / S : Kylie Bunbury ( Twisted ) OLDER  FC / S :  Lynn Whitfield ( Greenleaf ) YOUNGER  FC / S : N/A VOICE  CLAIM / S : Lynn Whitfield

MUN QUESTIONS.

Q1 :   if  you  could  write  your  character  your  way  in  their  own  movie ,   what  would  it  be  called ,  what  style  would  it  be  filmed  in ,  and  what  would  it  be  about ?       A1 : Recently I decided that if/when I try to write anything serious about Eve again, it’ll center on her being a jewel thief because it presents me more fun, and emotionally diverse, opportunities. That and I have a very specific cover image in my mind. Ideally, her adventures would be a series of books. I have no title in mind, no idea about how ‘it would be filmed’ ( although a style replicating 90s films would be excellent, film grain and all. ) but, I do have a bunch of plots in mind that I really don’t feel like typing out here.  

Q2 :   what  would  their  soundtrack / score  sound  like ?         A2 :  Her score would have a vintage sound (or a jazzy Spike Lee sound, if you will) with instrumentals by Dorothy Ashby (a Jazz Harpist) the Ahmad Jamal Trio, Pharaoh Sanders, Yusef Lateef and Tarika Blue. For music with lyrics, the soundtrack would include the likes of Julie London, Sarah Vaughn, Ella Fitzgerald, and Dionne Warwick.

Q3 :   why  did  you  start  writing  this  character ?   + Q4 :   what  first  attracted  you  to  this  character ? A3 :  Whenever I make NPCs for my character’s lives I actually can’t just let them just be NPCs. I start thinking about them too much. Developing them too much. And then I’m like, ‘wow! I really like this character!’ Eve was a different character when I began writing her, and likely wouldn’t be considered the same character as she was previously, if I told someone in real life who knows about my writing (like my grandma) about all the changes she has undergone. Originally Delores was a university professor, because I thought it could lead to interesting interactions with college-age muses. And her previous history with the mafia was also something interesting to tap in. But then I started thinking about what was realistic, what wasn’t realistic, what did I feel comfortable/interested writing? What didn’t I feel comfortable/interested in writing?  So as time went on, things would alter about this character. And the new things I came up with attracted me more. 

Q5 :   describe  the  biggest  thing  you  dislike  about  your  muse.         A5 :  I have a love/hate relationship with Eve’s quiet demeanor. On one hand, I think quieter characters need love and the ability to be fully dimensional but on the other hand, writing louder characters has always been more fun for me. But really, Eve’s guarded behavior makes writing her stressful in some cases with others because sometimes...if I’m going to be honest...people don’t know how to carry a thread and interact with someone of her demeanor effectively. 

Q6 :   what  do  you  have  in  common  with  your  muse ?       A6 : We’re both black, we’re both into art (although our exact interests and aesthetics with art differ)

Q7 :   how  does  your  muse  feel  about  you ?         A7 : Realistically she would think I need to take better care of myself.

Q8 :   what  characters  does  your  muse  have  interesting  interactions with ?   A8 :  We skippin’ this question.

Q9 :   what  gives  you  inspiration  to  write  your  muse ?       A9 : Films such as, “Waiting to Exhale,” “The Kitchen” and “Widows.” Books by Alice Walker, like “The Third Life of Grange Copeland” as well as her short story, “Roselily.” The historical mob figure Stephanie St. Clair.

Q10 :   how  long  did  this  take  you  to  complete ?       A10 : A few hours.

#long post #dash games. #headcanons.