#seventh grade was indeed the worst

[kyathedino]

In seventh grade, when I went to lunch, everyone was sitting at these rectangular tables looking like they were in cliques, and since I had just moved I had to sit at the empty table, and at that moment I perfectly envisioned that one image of Garfield with the subtitle 'you are not immune to propaganda'

#garfield #mean girls #seventh grade #cliques #middle school #god that shit was a nightmare #propaganda #seventh grade was indeed the worst #at least i got to read 1984 by george orwell #that shit was fire #new kid #stereotypes #middle school girls are scary asf #beware #be warned #be watchful #stay safe #<3

[olivieblake]

KSIGJICNRJCNEHCBD HELLO HELLO WELCOME TO THE HELL THAT IS KNOWING ZUTARA IS EVERYTHING AND SHOULD HAVE BEEN WRITTEN AS SUCH !!!! wow i love that you are as angry as i was (and am every rewatch? yikes) this is amazing i knew you're my favorite but yeah wow man this really. confirms it whew high five

yeah it’s pretty wild how I knew this was what happened and was already bracing for it and yet STILL got completely misled by the narrative??? MEN I tell you MEN. I’m also going to use this ask as a method to reply to some of the other commentary if you don’t mind since this seems like a good place for communal frustration (here is my original post for anyone scrolling around lost)

@meg-hemmings: I agree with all of ur thoughts and I would TOTALLY read anything you wrote for Zutara … your writing is among my absolute favorite ever and I think you would write the Zutara dynamic so beautifully!

@one-man-propaganda-machine: I am - begging - you to write it yourself.

I... am not going to make promises, but I may have to. I want something very specific and that never bodes well for me. I doubt it would be more than a one-shot, but there are multiple scenes that could have occurred between episodes that would flesh out what was there (and of course I’d cut the final 15 seconds of the show, much like another epilogue I loathe and ignore)

@deifiliaa: omg atla discourse in 2021; olivie, i’d love to see what your character tier list looks like now that you’ve finished the series 👀

I’m going to put azula at the top. not because she’s a good person obviously but she’s FULL. OF. HITS. every time she’s on the screen the narrative gets immediately more interesting. she’s savvy and self-assured and I love it. her ending depressed me although I like that it was kind of about the loss of her two best friends? if that had been more of a focus I think I would have enjoyed it more but yeah, losing mai and ty lee could have been rightfully devastating. who among us is not totally obliterated by friend breakups. I also really loved uncle iroh; if anything that’s why I wasn’t invested in zuko’s storyline until close to the end, because watching him disappoint his uncle was very difficult (I get it, he’s a teenager, he’s growing and evolving and whatnot, but also I am closer to being his uncle than to being him so like, yeah). I also hope the peter pan revenge guy (JET that’s his name, sorry pregnancy kills my brain cells) did hook up with both katara and zuko. I love that journey for all three of them. I wanted more time with mai than we got, so there wasn’t quite enough there to love... but I was very down with ty lee interfering on her behalf. what a pivotal moment

of the core characters I think I was quickest to love sokka; the episode where he apologizes to suki and asks her to train him cemented it for me. I think it’s a big deal to show boys apologizing on-screen and owning their misconceptions. I like katara a lot—she’s what a lot of people do with fanon hermione. toph is also great, and part of me feels there is a strong basis for a ship with aang that balances their opposing energy, though I also like the idea of them being platonic besties. aang is... twelve. pretty much every time he was on the screen mr blake (a teacher) was like “man, aang is such a seventh grader,” so it was nice how convincing that was for his emotional journey, but at the same time it was hard to forget he was in seventh grade. appa and momo are STARS. I am sure I have mentioned this before but mr blake really loves animals and he was devastated by appa’s kidnapping; he hugged our dog for about ten minutes after aang found appa. after he decided I was zuko, he speculated that he is closest to aang but he’s not happy about it lol. “ugh, aang and I are such boring pacifists” was I believe his take on the subject

@libbynico, who for some reason I can’t tag: so true! katara was literally something like a mother/older sister figure to aang the entire time, but whatever

yeah, I think it really sucks that katara, as the emotionally nurturing character, felt shoved into the role of love interest. it’s everything wrong with the distribution of emotional labor in male-female relationships but sure, WHATEVER, apparently nobody thought to ask me in 2008

@touslesnoms: I liked “such selfish prayers” by andromeda3116 if you ever decide to read zutara after the series; the worst prisoner by emletish is super funny too

thanks for the recs! I will take them. I do want something very specific so I will be accepting recs until I find it lol. or until I lose composure and write it (yeah this is me WITH my composure, no wonder mr blake thinks I’m zuko, “I’m never happy” indeed)

@gaeleria: THANK YOU!!! Ugh omg that “I’m confused” kiss scene made me actively hate the ending. I knew ahead of time they were endgame, so I tried to make myself accept it early on. Like, I really didn’t like the pairing, but I wasn’t going to be emotionally invested in the romance and it was just going to be like, whatevs. AND THEN THEY WROTE THAT SCENE??! 1000% no. What was even the point of that scene? If they had written it to make Aang have some introspection and realize it’s not all about him, Katara’s feelings matter too, or even apologize, or anything… but no, there was literally no point to that scene. No character growth, it was never mentioned again. Ugh.

this is in answer to both you and beloved @zabbini: yeah this was a fuck-up for sure lol. I think it may come down to editing for time; the series is very irregularly paced, what with the majority of the action taking place in the final three episodes of a 16 episode season. or maybe it’s just because MEN CAN’T BE TRUSTED TO WRITE ROMANCE but either way yeah this was a real misstep and just truly, truly reeked of a particular (white) male attitude about how women think and what they owe. had a bad day, dudes? buy a gun, kiss your forever girl, do whatever you want and it’s fine! (I’m exaggerating but barely)

in terms of what’s so angering for me: a character like katara who previously had tons of agency was robbed of it when it came to her romantic arc, which is just really upsetting. and to be fair, I was equally upset when zuko instantly agreed to the agni kai with azula because it was like okay well katara’s extremely valuable, as you know, but now you want her to just sit on the sidelines...? (more of a story flaw than a relationship flaw, but my chest sunk a little at the idea that katara was going to sit by and watch as an accessory to zuko’s story when she’s a crucial weapon in their collective fight. what a waste, right?) 

it’s also especially hard to buy into the aang thing when zuko’s method of problem-solving on katara’s behalf is there for comparison. he asks her what she needs in order to find closure and then from there, does everything necessary to get it without having to be asked twice. versus aang, who is a twelve-year-old pair of rogue lips who never wins any of his fights without the aid of phenomenal cosmic powers...? ugh I’m getting off track but in the end there’s just a complete lack of understanding what female audiences want, though again, I don’t think they were really considering that at all. which I guess is... fair, it’s not the point of the show, but then why make the ending romantic at all? to show that their brand of hero gets everything he wants, I guess

in conclusion in 2008 I’m not sure the industry was capable of doing better, which sucks but isn’t surprising. still, it does fit the components of “stuff I write fics for,” which is I enjoyed most of it but find myself enraged by slivers I compulsively need to fix—WHICH IS STILL NOT A PROMISE but ugh I can already feel myself giving in 

#avatar the last airbender #zabbini

[lov3nerdstuff]

Voluptas Noctis Aeternae {Part 6.1}

*Severus Snape x OC*

Summary: It is the year 1983 when the ordinary life of Robin Mitchell takes a drastic turn: she is accepted into Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Despite the struggles of being a muggle-born in Slytherin, she soon discovers her passion for Potions, and even manages the impossible: gaining the favor of Severus Snape. Throughout the years, Robin finds that the not quite so ordinary Potions Professor goes from being a brooding stranger to being more than she had ever deemed possible. An ally, a mentor, a friend... and eventually, the person she loves the most. Through adventure, prophecies and the little struggles of daily life in a castle full of mysteries, Robin chooses a path for herself, an unlikely friendship blossoms into something more, and two people abandoned by the world can finally find a home.

General warnings: professor x student, blood, violence, trauma, neglectful families, bullying, cursing

Words: 4.8k

Read Part 1.1 here! All Parts can be found on the Masterlist!

______________________________

The weeks at the end of the term flew by like a soft summer breeze. After the accident in the Quidditch stadium, Jorien really had been entirely fine and back to her normal self within a day after the incident in the infirmary, while Robin had been left with a clicking wrist and a small, ragged scar on the side of her neck. It luckily wasn't all too visible unless someone stood really close to her, and she soon had developed a habit of absentmindedly tracing it with her fingertips when she was lost in thought.

Robin had spent the last weeks of school mostly in the potions classroom again, studying for the impending OWLs instead of working in the laboratory, and occasionally she had even gotten Snape to quiz her on other subjects than his own. Then finally, during the week of the theoretical and practical examinations, Robin had been entirely shocked by just how easy the OWLs were in comparison to what she had imagined them to be. It had just been ordinary tests and tasks like she had always received throughout the years, in a bit of a different format perhaps, and she had done her utmost to ace them all.

In the evening after her last exam, while everyone had been out and about celebrating with their friends, Robin had come to the office as always, and when Snape had brought her chocolate cake and coffee for their own kind of celebration, she had finally started crying as all the stress of the past few days and weeks melted from her at last. He hadn't lost a single word about it, and merely had seen to it that her coffee still was hot when her emotional catharsis had been over with.

And just like that the term had ended, and Robin had found herself almost crying again when she had to get on the train back to London. While Cas and Jorien had gone on and on about their summer plans during the ride, Robin had merely stared out of the window and watched the landscape fly by in a calm haze. Putting more and more distance between her and everything she loved.

Finally before she had parted from her role as mentor for the summer as well, she had let the two girls talk her into giving them her address so that they could write letters to her. Robin didn't expect them to actually do so, but oh well… they had been happy when they'd parted at the train station, and that's what mattered.

But only upon her arrival back at her parents' house hours later, Robin had to realize that this summer might quite possibly be the worst one yet. Suitcases everywhere, boxes of books and folders stacked on the stairs, almost empty wardrobes… for a moment, she had believed that either they were moving house, or that her parents were getting divorced. As it turned out though, neither was the case. Her parents simply hadn't deemed it necessary to inform her any sooner that they would be leaving for a research stay in the United States in two days, joining a project at some university in Iowa until their own term here in England would resume. Meaning they would be gone for the next three months.

Honestly, Robin hadn't even been surprised to hear that they hadn't deemed it necessary to ask for her approval, seeing as Robin herself never asked for theirs either. To them, their behavior was perfectly justified by the fact that Robin was almost seventeen and thus old enough to keep the household on her own, and even more so because this research project they were supposed to work on in the states was a 'once in a lifetime opportunity'. To them, Robin obviously had to understand that. And honestly, she did. She understood perfectly well that their careers meant more to them than she ever had, and she'd come to terms with that long ago.

That was why two days later she merely wished them good luck with a feigned smile, assured (but never promised) them that she would call if she had any problems, and waved them goodbye until in a year perhaps, when they would maybe see each other again. Because by the time they would return from the other side of the world, Robin would long be gone back to Hogwarts.

Admittedly, Robin at first wasn't even upset that they were gone. She might not know how to properly do laundry, or how to fix something around the house, but she was a quick study after all. She'd be alright. And there still was the small but pleasant fact that instead of simply giving her an allowance like they had done the years before, her parents simply had given her full access to their general finances and bank accounts for the duration of their absence. At least they seemed to have unconditional trust in her in that regard, that much was obvious.

And yet, the first week of being entirely alone in the large house was challenging. She had to learn to make meals for herself, which honestly wasn't so hard with the help of her mother's cookbooks, as it turned out to be just like potion making. But with food instead of stuff that could kill you. Overall, her first attempts at cooking were mediocre but edible. What turned out to be a bigger issue however, especially in the second week, was the cleaning. She'd only ever manually cleaned her own bedroom before, and seeing as the stupid law about underage magic prohibited her from cleaning the rest of the house with spells, she had to learn on the go how to do it the muggle way. Which was absolutely dreadful. She much preferred the cooking.

It was at the end of her second week of living alone that she received a letter from school. She didn't even bother returning back inside to open it, and simply sat down on the sun heated stairs in front of her house, placing her coffee mug next to her before finally ripping the letter open. Indeed, it was the results of her OWLs… With every line she read, her smile widened a little bit more. She'd received an Exceeds Expectations in astronomy, divination and history of magic, very much as expected, and an Outstanding in charms, transfiguration, herbology, care of magical creatures and potions, also as expected. But she had also received an Outstanding in defense against the dark arts, and she had definitely not expected that. Perhaps Morgan really was the only reason why she'd never gotten more than mediocre grades in the subject, and now that he wasn't the one grading her, it actually made a huge difference.

Robin couldn't stop grinning, and almost forgot her coffee on the stairs as she finally headed back inside and straight to what had once been her parents office. Now it had come to be hers for the time of their absence. She had to tell Snape about this success! Or did he know already? Even if he did, this posed a good enough reason, an excuse to write to him no matter what. So that's just what she did.

She told him of her other grades too and how these results would allow her to take all the classes next year that she had hoped to. After the bittersweet evening that had been her career advice talk, Robin had actually made an effort to come up with a plan of action for the N.E.W.T. classes. She still wasn't entirely sure what she wanted to do after school, but she had figured that it would definitely be something that fell into her prevailing field of interest. Which is why she had decided to definitely continue potions, herbology and care of magical creatures, which she'd honestly never even considered dropping in the first place. Then she had discovered that for sixth and seventh years students, an entirely new class was offered that however required an Outstanding in both potions and transfiguration, and she had very much hoped that she would meet the requirements. Seeing as she did, alchemy was also on her list of classes for next year. Finally, she had decided that she probably could make good use out of continuing charms class, even if it wasn't technically one of her interests. That had been it for the list she'd made. But now, with the results she had received… she seriously started to consider continuing defense against the dark arts as well. She had always enjoyed the class itself greatly, for the topics had actually interested her and she had deemed the contents useful enough, more so than charms even… but she just hadn't been able to imagine willingly putting up with Morgan any longer. Now however, as she saw that her final grade wasn't actually for him to decide over and that she must have learned something from the class (even if she'd done so by herself and outside of class time) if she had received an O, she seriously considered putting up with Morgan for two more years. For the sake of learning.

All of that Robin wrote in her letter to Snape, and it turned out to be quite a bit longer than she would've expected, but she also couldn't really care less. She sent him the letter as it was, and then went ahead to put her exam results on the fridge. It wasn't an official certificate anyway, only a notice of her grades, but she found this small act of protest against her parents' preferences quite gratifying. They hated it when people put stuff onto their fridges, and they would have no choice but to look at Robin's grades if they wanted to remove the paper from its place once they returned.

Two days later, Robin received a letter from Snape in return. He congratulated her on her remarkable results, of course unable to refrain from saying 'told you so' along the lines, and then commented on her intended choice of classes for the next year. Potions, herbology and care of magical creatures he deemed good and reasonable choices, his opinion on charms could be simply put as 'if you really want to', while however he deemed alchemy a nonsensical subject and thereby a waste of her time. Robin considered his words, but decided that she would see for herself if it was worth her time and effort. She could always drop the course after a few classes if she didn't like it. His opinion on defense against the dark arts however wasn't as distinct as Robin would've expected. He saw her point in wanting to learn and enjoying the contents, but he also couldn't deny that –while perhaps he should officially be saying something different– he didn't like the idea of Robin suffering under Morgan for two more years. That didn't make Robin's choice any easier, until she got to the next point in his letter, where he wrote that if she should choose to continue the class indeed, he would help her to deal with it in regard to both Morgan and to the contents. That settled the issue for Robin; she would continue defense against the dark arts, and she would be great in it despite whatever Morgan might do to make her suffer. With Snape on her side, she believed she could get through anything at all. But his letter didn't end with the comments on her class choices, as Robin would've expected. He went on to say that he'd only now received the usual invitation to the conference, belated for whatever screwups there had been, and that he would give it to Robin once more if she wished to attend and didn't already have other plans. The letter ended with that indeed.

What he obviously didn't know was that Robin had received her very own invitation just this morning, and she had every intention to attend either way. Actually, she rather hoped that Snape could be convinced to attend as well. It was just three more days until the conference, and if she wanted to actually receive a reply from him, she would do well to hurry. Thus she sent him a letter in response immediately, telling him of her own invite and that she would attend for sure, but also how that meant he could attend too and that she'd actually like it a lot if he did. She joked in her letter that she'd rather embarrass him in his presence than in his absence, hoping that it would make her sound a little less pleading and a lot less clingy in her request for him to attend together with her. But really, for Robin it all was just a matter of missing him a lot more than she should, and hoping that she would get to see him in a few days rather than in two months. It was worth a shot, and the worst he could do was to say that he didn't want to go.

One day later, Robin received the shortest answer she had ever gotten: Meet me in the entrance hall at seven thirty. We will go together.

… … …

On the day of the conference, Robin got up at four in the morning. Going from Oxford to London by train meant she had to waste quite a while on transportation alone, and then she also had to find the right building once again. All that before seven thirty, obviously.

Due to a prevailing lack of dressing options, she went with the very same skirt from the year prior once again, but paired it with a cream white lacey blouse this time. Victorian style, obviously, for she didn't even own any modern style dress shirts. They were boring, and she felt like the old fashioned style at least gave off the illusion that she belonged into the wizarding world a little more than she felt like she did. It was closer to robes than a t-shirt, after all, and together with her locket and the bracelets, she actually did look fancy enough to fit in with the dress robes everyone else would likely be sporting. The only flaw was the lack of dressy flats that was a direct result of the absence of most of her mother's wardrobe, and thus Robin had to make do with her own low top Doc Martens. What she lost in elegance, she gained in comfort though, and that perhaps was even better. What the old men thought of her clothes wasn't her problem, after all, but theirs. After grabbing her backpack, she locked the house behind herself and was on her way to the train station, even before sunrise.

She arrived at the correct building at precisely seven twenty, and once she walked into the entrance hall, she already spotted the familiar frame clad in black. The smile was on her face before she knew, and she tried to tone it down a bit as she approached him.

"You're early." Robin said once she was close enough, his back facing her until he turned around at the sound of her voice.

"So are you." He replied with risen eyebrows, and a surprisingly well hidden not-smirk. Right… they were among people again. "And quite obviously you never learn." A quick glance down to her apparel had Robin rolling her eyes at him openly.

"Not everyone possesses dress robes! This is the best I can do, alright? I don't come in a deluxe edition." She sighed, but his choice of words had made it obvious enough that it was a humorous complaint rather than a serious one, and thus Robin's smile lingered on her lips.

"I am merely concerned for those old creeps' dusty hearts. They might suffer a seizure because of you, and I am not in the mood to hide a body today." He said in feigned annoyance, before placing a hand on the small of Robin's back as they made for the stairs. The touch had her skin crawling in an instant, and her own heartbeat echoing in her ears despite the noise of the people around them.

"If they're being creeps in the first place, I honestly couldn't care less what they think." She finally replied, confidently for the most part, once they stepped into the correct hallway. "This is a potions conference, not a fashion show. And I expect to be respected no matter what I wear or how old I am."

"Doesn't it ever get annoying?"

"What?" Robin frowned at his out of context question, and the short halt in her movement had his hand pressing against her back just a little firmer. It wasn't intentional, but she wouldn't complain either.

"Being right all the time." He sighed quietly, and Robin had to smile. Good to hear they were on the same page. "As long as I do not receive letters from people gushing over you again, I couldn't care less what they think either."

"What's so bad about people gushing over me?"

"Perhaps we should discuss this at a different time." He mused, just as they stepped up to the table in front of the conference room again. The same old man Robin had met last year was sitting behind it, with a friendly smile and studious eyes.

"Ah, Miss Mitchell! How delightful to see you here again." He said even before either Robin or Snape could as much as show him their invitation cards. "I needn't see your invite, I am well aware that you must have received one."

"You remember my name?" Robin asked with a small frown that gave away just a hint of her surprised confusion, and accepted the name tag the old man held out to her. He really did remember her name… R. Mitchell, written in perfect cursive.

"I doubt that a single person in that room doesn't remember you, dear." He laughed in return. "And those who pretend they don't, you can kindly ignore."

"Thank you." She returned with a small smile, and then looked up at Snape while she stuck her name tag onto her blouse. He looked as annoyedly unimpressed as he always did around his students, and Robin's smile turned into a smirk.

"You are the one who gave Miss Mitchell the invitation last year! Lucky fellow you are if you have a friend like her…" The old man addressed Snape then as he had looked at his invite for a second, and Robin could've straight out laughed at the scowl on Snape's face.

"Indeed." He said however, in a neutral drawl that let on neither disapproval nor actual agreement. Perhaps he simply didn't want to bother correcting the man, or perhaps he did see her as something like a friend by now. Who knew. Either way, it filled Robin with a joyous excitement.

Once they went on into the conference room, they barely had time to find two empty seats at the back before people Robin vaguely remembered started entrapping her in conversations. A few people who seemed to know Snape also approached him, but he got to take his seat eventually while Robin was more or less unwillingly passed on from wizard to wizard for the sake of conversations she didn't want to be having in the first place. But she'd promised herself to be polite, and so she smiled and sometimes suffered through all of them until at last they were asked to take their seats for the lectures to begin.

With a sigh of relief, Robin finally found her chair next to Snape and dropped down in contentment at being done with the smalltalk.

"I had no idea you were so… in demand." He commented quietly while Robin dug out a notebook and pen from the depths of her backpack.

"I wish I wasn't! Honestly, I couldn't care less about which great jokes someone came up with, or who else had mentioned my name in whatever conversation." She groaned under her breath, rolling her eyes at the insane amount of nonsense she had previously been exposed to. "Like I am anyone worth bragging to…"

"You are the only one who lets them brag without cutting in with your own great achievements."

"Right. Because I don't have any in the first place. I passed my OWLs, that's as good as it gets."

"You discovered a spell for finding nocturnal flowers almost effortlessly. Improved a healing potion. Discovered how to come by Alteria pearls."

"I discovered how to make you smile." Robin added quietly, and instantly bit her lip as if that would take the words back.

"That surely is your greatest achievement of them all, yes." He scoffed in dripping sarcasm, and Robin had to snort at his words, which drew a little too much attention to them, but only for a short moment.

"At least it's my favorite one." She finally said, shrugging a little as she stared down at her notebook with a smile of her own.

"Good." He replied, in that way that said more than he did. "Now focus on the lecture or I will make you."

"I'd like to see you try." Robin smirked, but turned her attention to the person on the pedestal nonetheless, who had only just gotten past an introduction.

"I am sure you would."

… … …

The lectures were fairly interesting as they had been in the last year as well, but the discussions were merely mediocre. That was why throughout those parts, Robin and Snape kept on making comments to each other about the people around them as well as the topics discussed, at every given opportunity. It was hilarious, even if not the nicest thing to do, or rather especially because it wasn't. But it truly was inevitable, for every time Robin tried to stop the comments from spilling past her lips, he tripped her back into it and the other way round as well. During the lectures however they truly stopped humoring each other in order to listen, and as a gesture of respect for the person talking.

It was only in the afternoon, long after the lunch break, that the good mood was threatened by the next person taking the speaker's desk; Kenneth Crowe, the very man Robin had embarrassed last year. And obviously he as well as everyone else in the room seemed to remember that in the same moment she did, for multiple eyes were on Robin in an instant. She sat up straighter, subtly shifting in her seat in discomfort. They seemed to expect something of her, something specific, but she couldn't fathom what it was even as they kept glancing at her while the man started his lecture. Just to give her hands something to do, Robin tied the wavy mess on her head into a bun and fixated it with her pen. Then she dug out another one from her backpack, twisted it between her fingers as she tried to focus on the lecture, but eventually put it down on her notebook and instead let her fingertips trace over the delicate scar on her neck. The certainty that at least one pair of eyes that wasn’t Snape’s was on her constantly made her heart rate explode, and everything was suddenly louder than the lecture. Her heartbeat, the rustling of paper, the low humming of the ventilation system…

"Remember to breathe." Snape's deep voice barely reached her ears, be it for his quiet tone or her state of distraction. "You have nothing to fear."

"But what if the idiot up front asks me something I don't know the answer to? As a late revenge? I will embarrass you and everyone will laugh at me."

"How likely is it that he will ask you a question that neither you nor I can answer?" He asked in return, and Robin had to admit that he had a point. "In the worst case, you do not always need to know the answer to a question to reply to it. Distract them; tell them something you do know instead."

"I can do that, I think…" Robin nodded to herself, and the relentless racing of her heart was slowly calmed down by a warm blanket of reassurance.

"Obviously you can. You play other people's games by your own rules all the time, and I do not know anybody else who is nearly as good at it as you are." He said, as if it was just another fact, a natural law he didn't doubt, and Robin smiled down at her notebook for a moment. His trust in her abilities was reassuring, if not delightfully empowering. And she couldn't help smiling on, as she finally turned to listen to the lecture.

Kenneth Crowe presented the very same healing potion as last year, in a revised version with improvements and the most recent developments in his reach. And while he did admit to the mistake that Robin had called out last year, he claimed that her suggestion to use Plangentine had, in fact, not worked out, which for him had resulted in a multitude of partially still unsolved problems. Robin's jaw dropped at that, and out of the corner of her eyes she saw that Snape wore his usual irritated scowl as well; They had used Plangentine, and very much succeeded in it. However, it hadn't technically been legal that they had even made the potion in the first place, and thus they both remained silent about it. At least towards Crowe and the other attendees in the open discussion that followed upon the lecture, which unfortunately consisted mostly of praise for the man and his work.

"They kneel before his throne unaware that it was built on lies." Snape complained quietly, glaring at Crowe who bathed in the attention he was getting. It really was a mystery why he would lie about the Plangentine… either he hadn't even tried it out, or he was trying to hide that it had worked indeed.

"Worry not, for they will see his lies to be but the ashen path to our castle of masterful deceit." Robin replied with a small smile as she looked at Snape next to her, and he raised an eyebrow in surprise as he returned her gaze at last.

"Where did you get that from?"

"Oh, you know... the craters of hell." She smirked, shrugging a little. "No seriously, I just made it up to humor you."

"Pity. I was wondering what our castle of masterful deceit might look like."

"Oh I do have an idea for-..."

"Miss Mitchell, if I may request your attention for a moment…" Crowe spoke up loudly enough to interrupt Robin in her quiet explanation, and she tried not to look too startled as she turned to look at the man at the front. "I would like to give you the opportunity to defend your proposition of the last year, even if proven wrong, if you please. Perhaps your idea can still prove useful in its origin?"

Something small within Robin snapped, and she remembered just why she had never regretted embarrassing this man. He was an arse from top to bottom, and gone was her decision to try not to upset him further. He was begging for it, and Robin would let herself be dragged into his pettiness for once.

"If you expect me to defend myself for something I still believe to be correct, you are mistaken. I will not. I stand with my suggestion from the previous year to use Plangentine." She started rather diplomatically, testing the waters Crowe was willing to enter here. It sufficed to raise some whispering.

"Well, seeing as it obviously did not work, you would do well to let go of such childish stubbornness and adapt to the methods of science! This is a professional event and not a tea party!" He replied in a sharp tone, and honestly Robin simply had to smile. This was ridiculous… how could adults indeed be so incredibly childish? She couldn't even feel properly insulted when he said things like this!

"May I?" Robin asked with a smile, turning to Snape with a humored expression.

"Please do." He replied with equal amusement. "I would do it myself, but I gladly surrender him to you."

With a deep breath and a polite smile, Robin turned back to Crowe. She had every intention not only to blow holes into his ship, but to send it to the bottom of the goddamn ocean of his own tears.

______________________________

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[arcticdementor]

Never encourage a child to keep a secret from her parents. That’s what we used to say, in decades past, when we believed a sacred boundary encircled every American home.

Last week, I spoke with another mother who discovered her 12-year-old daughter’s middle school had changed the girl’s name and gender identity at school. The “Gender Support Plan” the district followed is an increasingly standard document which informs teachers of a child’s new chosen name and gender identity (“trans,” “agender,” “non-binary,” etc.) for all internal communications with the child. The school also provided the girl a year’s worth of counseling in support of her new identity, which in her case was “no gender.” Even the P.E. teachers were in on it. Left in the dark were her parents.

This duplicity is part of the “plan”: All documents sent home to mom and dad scrupulously maintained the daughter’s birth name and sex. But Mom noticed her daughter seemed to be suffering. Although far from alone in declaring a new identity - many girls in the school had adopted new names and gender pronouns – this girl’s grades fell apart. She became taciturn and moody.

When the mother failed to uncover the source of the girl’s distress, she met with teachers, hoping for insight. Instead, she slammed into a Wall of Silence: no teacher was evidently willing to let a worried mom know what the hell was going on. (Finally, one did.)

When I wrote Irreversible Damage, I documented that California and other public school systems had adopted a policy of creating two sets of documents around minor students’ gender. Similar policies have cropped up across the country, modeled on the one created by the activist organization Gender Spectrum.

A “gender support plan” isn’t merely a secret held between child and teacher, which might be bad enough. This is no private student confession, the silent whisperings of a troubled teenage heart. A Gender Support Plan, or any similar scheme, effects a schoolwide conspiracy to create a secret name and gender identity specifically withheld from parents. I’ve talked to a mom whose middle school daughter slept in the boys’ bunk on the school overnight before she learned her daughter’s school had, for more than a year, called her by a different name and openly referred to her as a boy.

Teachers and activists who support this policy typically make two arguments in its favor. The first is that the very fact that a teen would want to keep her new gender identity a secret from parents is proof that home is an “unsafe” place for her; that is, her parents, if they knew, would abuse her. The second is that this gender declaration is a deeply held and personal decision of the child’s. The school, in this scenario, is merely a polite bystander—at most, a kindly chaperone. It’s not the school’s job to ask mom and dad for their approval.

The first is absurd; the second, dishonest. Why would a teen agree to keep a secret from her parents, if not for the presence of abuse? Well, as one sharp Twitter user pointed out in response to the documents I posted, one can think of a few things a teen might want to keep secret from mom: an eating disorder; her decision to join a religious cult; her dabbling in drugs; a decision to send or post nudes; or have sex with a much older boy. Teens tend to keep from mom and dad a wide variety of healthy and unhealthy teenage experimentations—sometimes to avoid parental protest; sometimes, just for the pubertal frisson.

And in virtually none of these cases is the primary motivation to keep secrets from parents necessarily fear of abuse. Sometimes it’s to avoid—groan—another lecture or even a conversation. Other times, teens keep something a secret just to avoid a “No.”

Which, in fact, is what the schools seem to want to avoid as well. The non-stop sex-and-gender celebration that begins in many public-school Kindergartens is an attempt to liberate children from any traces of sexual innocence.

…

A peculiar power imbalance has arisen between public school teachers and the parents for whom the necessity of work renders them too dependent on these schools to question them.  Parents discover radical materials pushed on their children by accident, like passersby happening on a crime scene. They are treated as interlopers, trespassers; they are made to understand they have no right to be there; information on the ideology pushed on their kids is revealed on a strictly need-to-know basis. When parents do object to classroom gender ideology, they’re treated as morally obtuse or child abusers.

The contempt shown parents would be inexcusable even if teachers stuck to reading, writing and arithmetic. In a time when so many public school teachers are properly described as activists, that arrangement strips children of their families’ protection. And families must indeed protect them from an ideology that would turn students against any adult who suggests that a seventh grader suddenly jonesing for hormones and surgeries slow down. I have more than once wondered whether public schools that would openly pit students against their families, turn them against themselves and each other, aren’t doing more harm than good.

I mean no disrespect to teachers when I point out the obvious: the moment a middle-schooler whom they’ve encouraged to transition graduates to high school, they more or less wash their hands of him. Soon after the janitors have stripped the lockers clean and rolled fresh paint on the walls, teachers will mentally and emotionally prepare for the next crop of students. They may remember a few fondly—but that does little for a child they’ve set on a medically perilous path toward a dramatic identity swap. If it backfires – as it will in so many instances – it won’t be the seventh-grade music teacher who contends for years with the damage.

All of which might make you wonder, how on earth are schools getting away with this? Is there no law that bars public schools from concealing a “coming out” to parents?  Actually, there really isn’t—not a good enough federal law, anyway.

…

For the past year, parents have been placed in the absurd situation of playing Whack-a-Mole with the worst excesses of Woke ideology. A book here, a curriculum there. It’s exhausting—and it’s a losing game of endless defense. Time for offense.

This is where the most critical cultural battle will be fought. Not with reckless doctors, for whom lawsuits are coming. Not even with the therapists—in many cases, a luxury, parents can walk away from. It will be fought with America’s activist teachers. Will we allow the activists among them unaccountable access to the next generation of America’s children?

…

For Pete’s sake, the state requires that teachers ask parental consent before they offer a child Tylenol. Maybe the state should require schools ask parents before inculcating a whole new identity for their child. Indeed, federal law should insist upon it.

Funny thing about this “debate” over parental rights: it cuts clear across party lines. Republican, Democrat, gay, straight—the Mama Bears of America have a very particular idea of what sorts of identities we’ll allow other adults to push on our minor children. Those insisting that teachers must “protect” seventh graders from their parents—they are rarely parents themselves. What they demand is continued unmonitored access to your children. It’s past time we stopped giving it to them.

#abigail shrier #substack

[redstarwriting]

Two Of Us [Part 2]

Tony Stark x Daughter! Reader

Request: “I loved your story Two Of Us. Could you please, please write more? Please?! I wanna read about her training with the team, her first mission with the team, about how people see her fly by and wonder who that is or how when people see her fly by they smile, remembering Tony and immediately feel that everything will be ok. I just need more!! 😭”

Word Count: 2,129

Genre: Platonic, Angst-ish

Warnings: Swearing, fight scene, Endgame Tony feels

A/N: I just had the absolute worst writer’s block I’ve ever experienced. No matter what request I tried to work on, I just couldn’t. However, the requester of part two of this actually yanked my ass out of the rut I was in and helped me finally get back on track! @katsen13 is an ANGEL and I’m very grateful she helped me out. Now that I feel like I can actually form sentences again, I’m going to try to write as many requests as I can. I’m very sorry if you requested and I haven’t written it yet, but I’m going to try to go off and write EVERYTHING now! Also, if anyone would ever just want to talk or get to know more about me I’m so willing to talk! Anyways, I hope you enjoy this! 

[Pt. 1]

───────────────────────────────────

After you showed the Avengers that you would be taking over the persona your dad had for so many years, you started training immediately. When you weren’t at school, you would be training. Lucky for you though, after three days of this train, school, train schedule, the seniors got out earlier than the rest of the student body. That includes you, so now it’s just training, training, training. After a week, it was evident that you were very skilled with the iron suit, but you weren’t Tony level just yet. Because of that, it became apparent to the rest of the team that you wouldn’t rest until you were. “(Y/N/N), isn’t it time for a break?” Rhodey asks as you fire repulsor beams from both of your hands, hitting targets as fast as you could. “Not a chance, Rhode Island.”

“Rhode Island? Come on, that’s not even clever.”

“Sorry, I can’t hear you over the sound of me being better than you.”

“Wow, you really are Tony’s daughter.”

“Damn, which one of us is the genius here? I never would have guessed I was Tony Stark’s daughter, good observation, Watson.”

Rhodey narrows his eyes in annoyance but can’t help the smile breaking out across his face. He missed this kind of scarcastic wit. Although the other Avengers can give him sass, no one compared to what Tony could do. Now he had a carbon copy of his late best friend. “Whatever you say, Stark.”

“How long has she been training?” Pepper’s voice rings out, but you’re too focused to hear. Rhodey looks at her and shrugs. “Well it’s one in the afternoon so… around seven hours. She never stops.”

“You don’t have to tell me that,” she says with a sigh, sitting down to observe you. Rhodey sits next to her, turning his attention to you as well. “She really acts like him, y’know?” Rhodey thinks out loud, and Pepper laughs. “Oh, you have no idea. I know you saw her grow up, but there are some parts you still didn’t see. She and Tony are basically the same person.” Rhodey shakes his head, a small laugh leaving his lips. “She started training at six in the morning.”

“Only six? she must have decided to actually sleep last night. That’s a rare occurrence,” Pepper informs him, and he snorts. “Yeah, that is a lot like Tony… doesn’t that worry you, though?”

“Of course it does… but I’ve come to realize she’s very set in her ways. She cares more about what she’s working on than she does her own health. I mean, she already has trouble sleeping, and ever since her dad has been gone it’s gotten even worse. But in this case, she won’t stop until she’s what she deems ready. Once she gets her mind set on something, nothing will stop her until she reaches her goal. A little like someone else we used to know.”

“Yeah, more like exactly like him. Is that one of the suits he made before? I’ve never seen it.” “Oh, no, (Y/N) made it. It even has some little perks that Tony’s suits didn’t even have. You might want to ask her to make you a new War Machine suit, she’d happily do it.”

“She made it? She can already make things like that?”

“Rhodey, she’s her father’s daughter. He got her hooked onto engineering in fifth grade. She made her first iron suit in seventh.”

Pepper smiles to herself, thinking back to the times she would wake up anywhere from midnight to 5 in the morning without Tony next to her. Even though he almost always did this, and she knew exactly where he was, she’d always get up to go find him. It was always just him until you were around ten years old. Then she would see you with Tony, staring at whatever he was doing, him explaining it to you. That was the beginning of your engineering knowledge, and, like she told Rhodey, by the time you were twelve, you were designing your own Iron Man suits. Spending time with Tony was your favorite thing, and you made sure it happened at any chance you could get. Tony loved it and although he never admitted it to you, but he bragged to everyone about how you were the smartest Stark. “She caught onto what I have a PhD in and went to college to study for when she was learning how to long divide. If you still think I’m the smartest after that information, I feel sorry for how delusional you are,” he’d always say. No one really believed him though. No one believed there was any way you could actually get the hang of these things at that age, Rhodey included. That is, until right now.

“She was getting that into this stuff at that age?” Rhodey was in disbelief, finally believing Tony’s claims at you being the smartest Stark. “Mhm. I always knew in the back of my mind that she would fill his shoes one day. I just expected it to happen later on in her life, after he retired from being Iron Man and we decided to finally just sit back and relax. Not now.”

Rhodey just sits in silence, unsure on what to say. He himself was missing Tony, so hearing Pepper say that just made him go silent. Rhodey and Pepper sit and watch as you start to finish up this rep on training before Pepper speaks up again. “I’m proud of her, though. She got his drive to constantly help other people. I’d hear them talking about it when they were working at night sometimes. She’ll do whatever it takes to protect the people she loves… just like him.”

“You two raised her well.”

“Yeah… yeah we did.”

This is the point when you finish, and finally realize your mom is there. “Oh, hi mom! What are you doing here?” you ask, walking over to her. “Making sure you ate.”

“Oh… uh…”

“I think it’s time you take a break and actually eat something, don’t you think?” she says, standing up and you sigh. “Yeah, yeah, I guess. But I’m coming right back here when we’re done.”

“I figured you would. But for now, let’s go get some lunch.” You begin taking off the suit, which happens in about 30 seconds, and grab the water bottle you had with you. “Where we going?”

“I was thinking we could go to your favorite restaurant.”

“Oh, I am so down.” You and your mom make your way through the compound, going to her car. You hop in the passenger’s seat, putting your seatbelt on while she gets in the driver’s seat. “Morgan at school?” you ask, and she nods. “Tomorrow is her last day. Then a week from tomorrow is your graduation. Is your valedictorian speech written yet?”

“It’s been written since the beginning of the year, mom,” you say matter-of-factly. She laughs a bit. “I should have figured it was already written.”

“Yeah, you should have. I mean, it’s gonna be a pretty small class. Over half of us were snapped out of existence. Now I’m awkwardly five years older than so many people I know, it’s so weird. I’m not a fan of this being old feeling. Not a fan at all.”

“You are so dramatic.”

“My dad was my dad of course I’m dramatic, have you talked to him?” you say, a small smile on your face. “You sound just like your father, you know?”

“Oh, I know. I’ve been told I’m Tony Stark but tiny, female, and many years in younger.”

Pepper opens her mouth to confirm that you are indeed tiny Tony Stark, but before she can answer a huge explosion causes her to immediately break and take a sharp turn. The car skidded to a stop, but you and your mom look at each other with wide eyes. “What was that?” you ask and Pepper shakes her head. “I don’t know-“

Another explosion cuts her off, and the glass in the car shatters due to the close proximity. You quickly get out of the car and see the same exact technology your dad faced before, but on a woman this time. Electrical whips were what were causing the explosions, as they were connecting with cars in front of you and overriding the electricity, ending in an explosion. She looked very similar to Ivan Vanko, the man your dad went up against and won against way back when. However, she looked a little younger. You’re pulled out of your thoughts by hearing your mom’s voice.

“(Y/N).” You glance at your mom, who is staring at this new female whiplash with a frightening glare. “Yeah, mom?”

“Kick her ass.”

You smirk, holding out your arm and feeling the familiar feeling of your very own iron suit encasing itself around you. Luckily, her back was to you, not noticing what was happening. “Friday, who is she?” you ask, and Friday answers immediately. “Her name is Tatyana Antonovna Vanko. Her father is Anton Vanko and her brother was-“

“Ivan, killed by my father.”

“Correct, (Y/N). She’s using what seems like an updated version of weapon of what her brother used. More electricity seems to be coursing through the whips.”

“Good to know, let’s stop her.”

“Yes, (Y/N). Let’s.”

You fly over to her, keeping some distance between you two so she doesn’t notice you yet. She’s about to raise her whip again, but freezes when she hears your voice. “Ma’am, I’m gonna need you to hand the electric whip thingies over, and just surrender since that would make this easier for both of us,” you yell at her, and she turns her head towards you with a scowl. “Stark? I thought you were dead.”

“You’re talking to the wrong Stark there, sis.”

“Then I will kill you myself,” she says, raising her whip and aiming it towards you. You quickly fly out of the way, dodging her attack, and fire a repulsor beam at her, but she dodges it. She shoots another whip out, and wraps around your one arm, pulling you to the ground. The volt of electricity makes your suit start to wig out, and you mentally curse. The other whip she has wraps around your other arm, and she laughs. “I’ve got you now!”

You look at the technology in your vision to observe the damage being done to your suit, but it actually looks like she’s charging it up. You smile to yourself, and grab the whip, much to Tatyana’s surprise. “What…?” you hear her mumble, and you just yank her closer to you, catching her off guard. You grab the other whip in the same hand the first whip you got a grip on, and pull her from the one side of your body to the next, causing her to sprawl out on the pavement. She groans, and you locate the power source on her suit. It’s exactly where the power source was on her brother’s suit, so you walk over to her, yanking it out. The electricity immediately disappears, and she’s left writhing in pain. Luckily, the police show up just as you finish, and you turn your head towards them. That’s when you notice the crowd of people who gathered on the road to observe you.

“Iron Man?”

“Is he back?”

“Is that really him?”

You smile at the mumbles throughout the crowd. The excited and hopeful looks on their faces make something warm spread throughout your whole body. “They think you’re him,” you hear your mom’s voice directly next to you and you turn to look at her. You shrug. “They can keep believing it for now. I’ll tell them I’m actually the better version when they’re ready to hear that news.” Pepper laughs, shaking her head and you clap your hands together. “So, this was fun and all, but I’m starving. I feel like it’s only reasonable for me to eat a cheeseburger after all this, so I’ll meet you at the restaurant, yeah? I’ll get your favorite because,” you motion to the destroyed cars in the path to where you two were going. “It seems like it may take a little while to get through that. I’ll just fly it back to the compound? Kay, cool. See ya, mom.” You look at the crowd of people, wave, and then take off. The crowd erupts into cheers after seeing you fly away and talking to Pepper, thoroughly believing Tony is back. Pepper smiles at the crowd and gets back in her car, ready to go back to the compound. She’s ridiculously proud of you in this moment, and she knows Tony would feel the same. Earth’s Best Defender is back.

#iron man x reader #avengers x reader #tony stark x reader #iron man imagine #avengers imagine #tony stark imagine #iron man #avengers #tony stark

[artificialqueens]

ice cream. (Branjie) - PinkGrapefruit

A/N - I’m on holiday from school so apparently i’m back to being a writing machine. Thank you Clanjie for getting me obsessed with this idea and Meggie for telling me this is indeed, non crying fluff. Enjoy!

*

[first day of kindergarten]

It’s Allie’s first day of kindergarten and Vanessa frets for the four hours she’s away from her baby. Brooke tries her best to be a comfort blanket, to help her through the worst of it but she knows that her wife is a mama bear at heart and being away from her cub hurts. When Allie gets out, runs full speed on her tiny legs towards her mama (Brooke films it because of course she does) Vanessa declares they’re going for ice cream.

They go to a cute, family-owned business down the street from their house, the pastel walls of ‘West’s Confectionary’ becoming a wonderland for the tiny girl as she runs around its checkered floor. Brooke hoists her up onto a raised barstool so she can sit at the counter with the rest of them but Vanessa quickly pulls her onto her lap instead - she claims safety but the blonde knows that she just wants her baby.

Brooke orders a coffee, stirs it while her wife slowly feeds their daughter chocolate ice cream. It gets more onto her face than in her mouth but they don’t care.

It becomes a first day tradition.

[first dance recital]

They make a promise of ice cream to get Allie through her first dance recital. She’s seven and tenacious, a feisty little thing that took to ballet like her mother did all those years ago. But she could be the greatest dancer in the world and she’d still be terrified so while Brooke scrapes her daughter’s dark blonde curls into a smooth bun, Vanessa kneels in front of her, holding her hands and promising a trip to West’s.

The girl dances like she was born to and Vanessa screams at every opportunity, holding up her camcorder to capture every moment because she is so fucking proud of her. Brooke holds their son, beaming from ear to ear as she bounces him in time to the music.

Nina West greets them at the door, ushers them into their booth in the corner before bringing out a chocolate ice cream sundae for Allie. The girl squeals in delight, tries to feed Noah little bits as he sits on their mama’s lap, gurgling and giggling at his mom and sister as they loudly sing ballet music in between mouthfuls.

[sick day]

Allie gets sick in seventh grade and Vanessa takes the day off work. Brooke ushers Noah out of the door, kisses her girls’ foreheads and promises to bring home some ice cream when she gets back from work.

They spend the day huddled on the sofa under piles of blankets. At one point Vanessa re-explains the origins of all of them, how Allie’s moms travelled as dancers and bought blankets because they used to make pillow forts in their hotel rooms. She tells tour story after tour story between wiping her forehead of sweat and refilling the ice packs.

When Brooke returns, a carton of West’s family ice cream in hand, she smiles at her wife and daughter on the sofa. Noah ruins it pretty fast - she can just see his dark mop of hair from where she stands in the kitchen and he almost certainly jumped on the sleeping girls. Allie perks up at the ice cream - Brooke reminds herself to thank Nina for being the family’s saviour.

[first love]

Allie is fourteen when she decides she has a crush on a boy down the street. He’s called Edward and seems perfectly respectable but Vanessa doesn’t like him. Brooke laughs at her reaction, calls her a mama bear and wraps her arms around her wife’s waist from behind as they look out of the kitchen window.

Edward asks Allie out on a Wednesday and subsequently gets invited to West’s - it’s Brookes doing and Vanessa is less than impressed but complies nonetheless because her baby is so happy.

Brooke spends the evening cracking jokes at Vanessa’s expense as she silently glares at the boy who appears to have stolen her little girl’s heart. They share a chocolate sundae. Vanessa almost squeezes Brooke’s hand off under the table.

[moving houses]

Vanessa cries when they move houses. Allie is fifteen and Noah is eleven and their home just isn’t big enough, but she still sobs. It’s the height wall that really does it, how she cannot take the strip of wall that holds the growth of her children with her across the street. It feels like her heart is being ripped out, and she hates it.

They have one last ice cream party in the empty living room. It’s the family plus Edward and Nina and they eat so much ice cream that Brooke’s sure they have sold out West’s.

The next morning, when the cartons are gone and they’re both in overalls and Rosie the Riveter bandanas, Vanessa stares at the height chart. ‘It’s on wallpaper’ she argues, ‘why can’t we just strip it’ and because Brooke is hopelessly in love with her wife, she spends the morning taking down the wallpaper. They frame it and it’s stupidly expensive but the look on Vanessa’s face is worth it.

[prom]

Edward takes Allie to Junior prom and Vanessa cannot stop crying. It appears to be a running theme, Brooke notes as she calls Nina, that ice cream meetings usually occur when her wife starts to sob.

Allie looks beautiful, all lithe ballerina frame - curly blonde hair left natural and makeup done by her mama pre-crying. Edward doesn’t scrub up too bad either and Vanessa does his bowtie for him - finally accepting of his place in the family three years into dating her daughter. Noah dresses up for the fun of it - a thirteen year old in a velvet tux and Brooke has never been so proud.

She and ‘Nessa dress up for West’s too and they wander in at 11 p.m., the most overdressed family on the street. They stay til the early hours of the morning, laughing over sundaes as Nina dances around with them. If Vanessa could bottle happiness, this would be it.

[first heartbreak]

Edward breaks Allie’s heart on a Thursday.

She spends the day curled up in bed, and between her and her mama they consume more ice cream than should be humanly possible. They watch Pretty Woman twice through because it’s Vanessa’s favourite and now it’s Allie’s, and Brooke kisses them both on the forehead before taking Noah to see a ballet - she recognises that they need a little alone time; if it means she gets to spend time with her favourite little man she’s not too pressed.

When Allie is asleep, Brooke and Vanessa open a new tub of ice cream, settle into the couch as the blonde tries to convince her wife that no, they cannot kill Edward because it’s not his fault - families move away.

They fall asleep halfway through a tub of ‘Nina’s classic coconut,’ Vanessa’s head on Brooke’s chest, smiling.

[graduation]

When Allie graduates, she and her mama paint ice cream on the top of her cap. It feels right.

#rpdr fanfiction #branjie #brooke lynn hytes #vanessa vanjie mateo #lesbian au #fluff #pinkgrapefruit #concrit welcome #submission

[razieltwelve]

English Was Not My Best Subject

Let me tell you a story.

Back when I first started high school, English was probably my worst subject. In seventh grade, I finished close to the bottom of my class, and my report card featured comments noting my small vocabulary and poor writing skills.

During the exams, I did poorly, and my responses showed a lack of attention to detail and made fairly few specific references to the assigned text. Indeed, the highlight of my seventh grade English career consisted of me drawing a map. That map gave me my best scores for that half of the year, which is actually rather depressing since my ability to draw is questionable at best.

So what was going on?

To be honest, it was my fault that my scores were bad. I found the books they assigned boring, so I did what seemed sensible to me at the time. I read through the books as quickly as I could (usually on the first day) and then never looked at them again. Did I take notes? Of course not. The books were boring. Why would I bother taking notes if the books were boring?

That’s right. I went into exams not having read the assigned texts in months and without having any notes to fall back on. Instead, I’d go into the exam, read the question, and then try to improvise a response based on my vague memories of what happened in the book.

As you can imagine, that was not a recipe for success.

The comments about having a small vocabulary and poor writing skills can be traced to a similar lack of effort on my part. If I didn’t like the book, I tended to be very blunt about it since I didn’t see the point in mincing words or tempering my language.

Again, this was not a recipe for success.

And the less I think about my approach to essay writing at the time, the better. The phrase ‘mercifully brief’ is the most polite way to describe the approach I took to writing essays. You could also have described my efforts as being ‘impressively concise’ if you were feeling charitable.

The fact is, my poor marks were my fault. I didn’t see the point in discussing or talking about books I didn’t like, so I didn’t put in the effort I should have.

As someone who has occupied various teaching positions, I think about my poor English results from time to time. I wonder how many of the students I’ve taught did poorly not because they lacked ability but because they simply weren’t interested enough to put in the effort required to succeed.

Whenever I encounter someone whose marks are low, I try to understand why that is the case. If someone’s marks are low because they have trouble getting interested in the subject, then approaching them the same way you would a person whose marks are low because they struggle to understand the subject is not likely to work. Lack of interest is not the same as lack of ability although the two can produce the same results.

For me, the big turn around came in ninth grade when I realised that getting crappy marks sucked. It wasn’t a nice feeling being near the bottom of the class, so I started putting more effort into preparing for the exams and doing the assignments properly. Lo and behold my marks improved. 

Teaching isn’t always easy, and part of that is because it isn’t just about imparting knowledge. As the saying goes, you can lead a horse to water but you can’t force it to drink. Motivation can often matter just as much as talent or knowledge.

If you want to read more about my thoughts on writing, education, and other subjects. You can find those here.

I also write original fiction, which you can find here.

P. S. I would later run into the opposite problem in 12th grade. As part of one of the English courses I chose to do, I was given a year to write a story of 8000 to 10,000 words in length. Now, the idea was that students would spend the year filling out a process diary describing all of the suffering and woe they went through to write their story. If you’re familiar with the speed at which I write, you can probably guess what happened next. I took a lot less than a year (about a month, actually, if you include all of the drafts and revisions) to write the story. I then had to fabricate the process diary because they wanted a year’s worth of stuff in there, not a month’s. Fun times.

#personal #education #writing

[notafightr]

It fic exchange!!!

so here's my reddie fic for @disneyfan567​ for the it fic exchange event! no trigger warnings, sorry for any mistakes or lack of skill this displays as i havent written in a long time and this is the first time ive written in this fandom

(°﹏°)

  Eddie was 13 when he moved to Ohio. Sonia decided she had had enough of Derry, and the small town was doing more harm than good to her delicate son. To describe Eddie's reaction, reluctant was an understatement. He was leaving his 6 best friends, his only real friends, all because of his mother's glorified temper tantrum.

  The past 3 years were (in)arguably the best years of his life. He met his best friends, more of a family than his own (which really just consisted of his overbearing mother), he had irreplaceable experiences and memories with his best friends, these friends entirely shaped and nurtured his character. So to have his mother rip all of that away from him, well it understandably upset him. Most of all, he didn't know how he was going to cope with the frequent flashbacks and nightmares that taxed him emotionally and mentally several times a week, dutifully owed to that short, albeit rather traumatic summer of 89’.

  For 3 long, yet oh so short years, Eddie coped with these strains through the support of his friends, especially a loudmouthed, annoying boy with Coke bottle glasses and slightly bucked teeth, named Richard Tozier, who couldn't find it in him to ever stop annoying Eddie, or stop telling him how much he loved him, or stop picking flowers for him on walks because he knew even though Eddie denied it, they really did make Eddie happier than he cared to admit.

  How do you cope with a demon clown terrorising you and your friends’ lives for an entire summer, haunting you as your worst fear, using unholy tactics to scare you in unimaginable ways, trapping you in its crack den, and almost killing you miles below land level, all at the ripe age of 10? Hopefully you found yourself down there with your 6 best friends. You also let your mind do the forgetting. Well, what it can. There's some things you can't forget.

  Until you leave Derry.

  Eddie started forgetting the moment the plane took off, whether he realized it or not. He managed to remember his friends for a short while, but vaguely. He didn't remember the poems Ben gave him every birthday, or that the friendship bracelet on his left wrist was made by thee Beverly Marsh. He didn't remember that the reason his room was always so tidy was because Stan Uris couldn't help himself every time they chose Eddie’s place as the hangout spot (when Sonia wasn't home of course), or all the scary stories Bill liked to tell at their weekly sleepovers at the ass crack of 3 am. He didn't remember how Jessica and Will Hanlon were by far the superior parents of the friend group and the snacks they so generously provided to said group were the best he ever had, no doubt that Mike directly inherited their kind and generous traits.

  When he woke up at the end of his plane ride, he didn't even remember that the lily flower in his hand was given to him as a parting gift by Richie, whose parents picked him up from the airport after he gave one last hug goodbye at the gate and waved Eddie off with flower in hand. Even after intently looking down, confused, and finally remembering it was indeed Richie who gave him the flower, he still didn't remember Richie’s endearing flower giving habit.

  He promised them he'd stay in touch, but it wasn't long before the initials BH, BM, SU, BD, MH, and RT were just meaningless letters next to a series of unknown house phone numbers.

  It wasn't until he forgot one particular conversation with Bill during a sleepover one night in 6th grade that he forgot Richie completely.

  “Bill?” Eddie whispered, lying down in Bill’s bed, not even sure if Bill was awake.

  “Y-yeah?” Bill replied after some silence.

  “So, we're best friends right?”

  “Well y-yeah, I m-mean all-” Bill started before being interrupted.

  “No I mean like, I know the seven of us are best friends obviously, but I mean, we’re best-best friends, you know what I mean? Like even before the lucky seven it's always been us right?”

  “Oh. Yeah I s-suppose.” Bill reassured him.

  It took Eddie a second to try and gather his thoughts and articulate what he was trying to say.

  “Well, I feel like, Richie’s different from all of you.”

  “Yeah n-no sh-shit Eddie, that k-kid can't k-keep his mou-” Bill was again interrupted.

  “No, that's not what I mean. I mean,” Eddie again had to organize his thoughts in his head, which proved to be difficult when not even he knew what he was thinking. “I mean I feel different with him. Like when he gives me flowers and stuff, and he's the only one that calls me Eds. But I know you're my best friend. My best-best friend. Am I wrong? Maybe Richie is my best-best friend?” At this point it felt like Eddie was just saying it out loud for himself.

  After a few seconds, which felt like several minutes to Eddie, Bill giggled.

  “What?” Eddie asked, almost panicked.

  While Bill didn't necessarily believe this, the thought amused him greatly. “It s-sounds like you have a c-cr-crush on h-him.”

  “Wh-... you th-” Eddie just about got whiplash from Bill’s statement. “You think I have a crush on him?!”

  “I n-never said that… I j-just said it s-sounds like you do.”

  “I'm not… I don't like boys like that. My mom told me what it means if you do and what happens, and I don't think I do,” he backtracked.

  At this point, Bill was almost asleep. “Okay Eddie, that's fine,”

  “I think maybe you're just both my best friends,” Eddie assured, but undoubtedly he said this more for himself than for Bill. Bill probably succumbed to slumber before Eddie could even start.

  Once any evidence of this conversation having occurred left his brain, any trace of Richie was buried deep under newer things. The others were already long gone. The nightly nightmares he experience fizzled out eventually, but they did resurface every once in a while. On the other side of the same coin however, he did have dreams about the good times with the losers. He never remembered them when he woke up, though.

  Not to mention, he was frequently frustrated at his lack of motivation to clean his room properly, wondering why his always clean room in Derry suddenly had no place in his new life in Ohio. Where's a Stan Uris when you need him?

  He tried to make friends. For a bit he was even in a nice friend group of people he clicked fairly well with, they were funny and kind and they welcomed him with open arms. But nothing felt right. They were funny, but it hurt to laugh at their jokes, they were nice, but almost too nice. If anyone so much as cracked a your mom joke, Eddie's first thought was an annoyed “Stop trying to be-” but always stopped short right there.

  Stop trying to be who?

  He didn't know. He didn't remember.

  So at the end of his sophomore year, when he asked his mom to sign his permission form for the classes he wanted to take the upcoming school year, his mom declined.

  “Eddie Bear, we're moving back to Derry this summer.” Sonia said apologetically, understanding he'll have to say goodbye to the friends he doesn't have.

  “Wait, what?” confused was an understatement. He had to rack his brain for a moment to even remember what “Derry” meant.

  “It’s getting difficult for me to support us financially here, so we're moving back near your Aunt Jodie and she's going to help us a little bit. We should start packing no later than the end of May, we’ll be out of the house and into the new one at the beginning of July in time for you to to get settled and start school at Derry High.”

  Eddie had never felt more indifferent in his whole entire life, while also feeling an inkling of hope he didn't quite understand. If anything, his biggest curiosity was why he didn't feel even a whisper of sadness for leaving the people he knew in Marietta, Ohio. While Eddie didn't care about moving back to Derry, and it meant almost nothing to him on the surface, the Eds inside of Eddie couldn't help peeking through.

  So they moved back. Eddie finished packing up his belongings before the deadline his mother gave to start packing had even passed, and he didn't bother telling any of his “friends” (perhaps acquaintances is a more applicable word) that he was leaving because the truth was, it was more trouble than it was worth. They would no doubt care more than twice as much as he did, so he left without so much of a trace of a goodbye.

  Now that Eddie was 16, he could drive. While Sonia wouldn't buy Eddie his own car, not over her dead body, she did allow him to use hers when it was available, and given her physical state and social life, it was almost always available. After a solid 8 hours of unpacking his things in his new, snug room on an otherwise uneventful July evening, he picked up his mom's keys.

  “Bye Mom!” he shouted loud enough for his mom to hear without bothering to hear her response as he shut the door.

  He shoved the key in ignition. Despite not having been in town for 3 years, he was still able to navigate the area without assistance. He drove to the coffee shop that he had vague memories of visiting during middle school winters for hot chocolate with some friends whose faces he couldn't quite remember yet.

  Walking in it didn't look much different. Not that Derry would care enough to update the coffee shop, or any shop for that matter, for any reason.

  “Hi, how can I help you?” a blonde girl at the register asked uninterestedly.

  She definitely hates her job, Eddie thought while pointlessly perusing the menu, already knowing what he planned to order. Sophomore year was not academically kind to Eddie, and a caffeine addiction to compensate for the mass amount of all nighters pulled did occur.

  “Can I just have a black coffee with sugar?” he asked while digging through his tattered black wallet he received as a birthday gift in seventh grade. He then flinched his head up in response to hearing another employee drop an entire pitcher of coffee on the floor.

  “Oh, fuck,” said worker pointedly exclaimed, which not only stirred a giggle out of Eddie, but his voice in combination with his oddly familiar black curly hair caused his heart drop, though completely lost as to why.

  “Your name?”

  “Hello?” She asked after a moment.

  “Hello!” the blonde girl repeatedly nagged, trying to catch Eddie’s lost attention.

  “What? Sorry I missed that,” Eddie finally grounded himself. Unfortunately his attempt to catch the other employees face failed as he stayed turned away and then hurried to his hands and knees on the floor.

  “I need your name for your order.”

  “Oh yeah of course, Eddie.” Not even seconds after his response, he heard something nearly inaudible, completely not understandable from the employee on the floor, which was confirmed by the blonde girl, which Eddie now gathered from her name tag to be Sarah, who exasperatedly asked about the other employee’s struggle.

  “You alright down there?”

  “Yeah, I’m just peachy, Sarah,” hearing the voice even clearer instilled a visceral reaction even stronger in Eddie once again.

  Sarah took Eddie’s cash, distributed his change, and set his cup down on the back counter for when the other employee to make when he was done cleaning up his mess. He picked a seat close by the counter and waited. After a few minutes, longer than probably usual, given time dedicated to cleaning up the coffee on the floor, Eddie heard his name called by the same antagonist and saw his coffee set on the counter, but employee was again out of sight. Eddie grabbed the coffee and with no reason to stay he made his way back to the car.

  Drinking his iced coffee on his way home, at a stop light he picked up his drink and studied it curiously. He noticed the boy who made his drink must have added his name for some reason because when Sarah set it down for him to make, there was nothing written on it. However, clearly on the cup, was his name:

  While looking at the little flower next to his name made him smile, it was a cute gesture, it filled him with a familiar sense of longing and loneliness, as if he was missing something. He got home, finished his coffee, continued unpacking, dreadfully argued with his mom about leaving the house without telling her where he was going, and went to sleep. It was less of a need for caffeine but more of an eagerness to learn about a curly headed, clumsy employee that brought him back to the coffee shop the next day.

  So he came back. He came back at the same time too, to have his best chance of the boy being on shift.

  “How can I help you?” Sarah asked.

  “Black coffee with sugar, Eddie.” successfully staying on track with Sarah this time around.

  Again, she set the blank cup on the counter and just like before, his name with a dainty doodle of a flower beside it. Unfortunately, even if he wanted to say anything to the employee which Eddie now knew wears a big pair of glasses, his introverted nature wouldn't allow it. Back to home it was, to continue setting up his new room.

  The next couple of weeks was the same routine, and quite lonely. Being in the middle of summer, with no school to be his vessel of socializing, and no friends, it was him, his lonely self, and his mom. For all intents and purposes, him and his lonely self.

  However one morning, in a hurry as he had a family gathering for brunch to attend to, he knew he wouldn't be able to get to the coffee shop in the evening so he came in the morning, despite knowing the shift would likely not be the same.

  He walked in and noticed it was in fact not Sarah at the register but didn't look further.

  “How can I help you?” The boy at the register was looking down.

  “Just a black coffee and sugar. Eddie.” He got the cash from his wallet and told the boy he could keep the change as he was already late to his aunt's house and confident he could do without the dollar and 74 cents. As he walked to the counter to get his coffee as soon as it was ready, he noticed the boy scribbling his name and a flower on the cup but his brain didn't process anything other than how late he was. He took his coffee eagerly and made his way back to his car, knowing his mom (who was already there after being picked up by her sister) was no stranger to yelling at Eddie for “caring more about himself than his family”.

  On the drive to his house he allowed himself time to think and thought about the boy at the register. He was familiar to Eddie and not just because he's seen him every day for two weeks, making his regular order with ease.

  The Coke bottle glasses.

  The flower.

  The unkempt, black, curly hair.

  But that was still too out of reach for him. He thought about it for as long as he could without having an aneurysm from working his brain too hard and decided he would come back the next morning for the same shift.

  Sonia greeted Eddie outside before he was able to come inside.

 “Eddie bear, why are you so late?”

  “Sorry ma, I was up late finishing my summer assignment and I stopped to get coffee when I left,” Eddie started despite knowing this wouldn't be enough to appease his mom.

  “Aunt Jodie is being very kind to help us out and this is the first time seeing family since we've gotten back, you should show your gratitude properly. Say thank you when we come in.”

  “I will, Ma. Why didn't you just wake me up and take the car here?”

  “Aunt Jodie wanted to catch up with me before everyone else got here. She took us to breakfast. I figured you'd have enough autonomy to drive yourself here on time. Are you feeling well? Did you sleep enough?”

  “Yes, ma!” Eddie spoke as he got out of the car and locked it, handing the keys to his mom. “I just overslept. Sorry for being late.”

  However, while his cousins and aunts and uncles were asking him how Ohio was and if he was sad to leave his friends and if he left a broken hearted girlfriend back in Marietta, all he could think about was the coffee shop employee who never failed to doodle a flower next to his name.

  He got home late, worked on his summer assignment, because against what he told his mom, he had in fact not started yet. He made sure to wake up at the same time as the morning before and headed to the coffee shop. To his pleasure, the boy was at the register.

  “How can I help you?”

  Eddie stared at him.

  “Uh,” He couldn't help but chortle as Eddie stared, wordlessly, and then it appeared as though a freight train of memories hit him square in the head.

  “Oh my God,” Eddie nearly dropped to the floor. “Richie? Richie fucking Tozier? Is this a joke?”

  “Ya know Eds, I was starting to think you really forgot me. Or maybe you just hated me.” Richie allowed himself to laugh.

  “I… I did forget you? But how? We-” and at that moment Richie could visibly see It creep itself back into Eddie’s memories.

  “Holy shit? You forgot about that too? Do you have amnesia? What happened to that pretty little head of yours?” Richie put his hand on Eddie's forehead and pretended to feel his temperature.

  “Oh my God,” whiplash had struck Eddie again. “I need to sit down,” He started to move to a chair nearby when he remembered more. “The others! Beverly, and Ben, and Stan and Bill and Mike!” he quite literally felt like someone waking up from a 20 year coma, rediscovering everything that happened before he fell asleep.

  “They're peachy. Stan's actually getting back from visiting his family in Florida today.” Richie informed him. “Any reason you never stayed in touch like you said you would? Left a man hanging.”

  “It's like, wait- those initials were yours!” Suddenly three years of wondering who those house numbers in his binder belonged to clicked. “It’s like I forgot you guys as soon as I left,”

  “That soon? Ed's, you wound me,” Richie teased. “But you're still wearing the friendship bracelet Bev made.” He held out his wrist and displayed a bracelet of the same pattern but in different colors. “What’s she got that I don't?”

  For the first time in 3 years, Eddie let out a genuine laugh.

  “Are you busy, cutie? I'm on break in 15 minutes and I can get someone to cover the rest of my shift,” Richie asked, hopeful.

  “Yeah that's fine.. uh.. have you been working every day? All day?” Eddie asked, concerned.

  “Well the past couple of weeks at least a couple of us from the gang has been visiting family or doin’ some crazy shit so I figured I'd make use of time and make some money, we're doing a road trip in a couple of weeks.”

  “Oh that's cool-”

  “You're invited, if you want, obviously. What better way to celebrate you coming back than a road trip? Ed's, just wait till’ they find out you're back-” Richie cut himself off when he noticed another man walk into the shop and they both decided to end the conversation there so he could order. “Okay hold on I'm gonna take his order, and I'll be out in 10 minutes, you can wait here if you want?”

  “Sounds good,” Eddie couldn't help the smile on his face, it's contagiousness showing in Richie's smile.

  After waiting for a bit, Richie came from the back out of his uniform, a bag on his shoulder, and a rose in his hand. He held it out to Eddie.

  “Do you just, carry flowers with you?” Eddie looked at him curiously.

  “No but I- after I saw you yesterday morning and I passed this one on my way to work, something told me I should grab it.” Eddie took it. “Flowers still get ya goin’?” Eddie punched him in the shoulder.

  “Thanks, Rich.” He smiled.

  “Where to now, spaghetti?” Richie put his arm around Eddie.

  “For 3 glorious years I never had to hear that, don't call me spaghetti!”

  “Okay Eds, answer the question!”

#reddie #richie tozier #eddie kaspbrak #it #stephen king #IT by stephen king #Stephen kings IT #it fic #reddie fic

[izzy-b-hands]

7 and 14!

Thank you for asking!!!

7.) Red or pink?

Red

Because while pink is a lovely color there's just something bolder about red that I like more. Also I've been a goth for years, so for awhile there before letting my closet open up a bit, all I wore was red and black and grey lol. Wish I still had a pic of me in seventh grade, when I'd occasionally wear red eyeshadow like Gerard Way did-we'd all get a laugh out of that!

14.) Have you been in love?

In regards to romantic love specifically, a few times before that I felt certain of it, and that looking back I feel confident to say that yes, at the time I was indeed in love.

But I'll note that I tend to fall fast and more easily into it than I like, so there's a lot of restraint now, and I don't tend to show it right away, and when I do want it to last I try to learn their love languages and make that choice to be in love. Because it has gotten me burned before, just falling and fading out of it with someone doing the same, though that isn't the worst thing. The fault of being open and wanting to any sort of love, I think, is that it puts you at that risk 'the terrifying vulnerability of being known' and all that.

And to say as well, that time has played a factor. At the time, for each of the people in mind, had we taken more steps, seized the moment more, maybe we'd still be in love now. But I also consider that, due to life and how it can go, we might only have been right for each others love at that particular point in time. And that's not a bad thing either-some love is eternal or seems to be, but of course to remain in love through changes means love becomes a choice, a part of life that you work on and care for, even after the initial feeling of having fallen fades. And then of course, even with that choice sometimes things just don't work out, and sometimes that's for the best. Gives you more opportunities to find love again, though I've seen how failing to find optimism in that can turn someone bitter, and I admit to nearly having done the same when I was younger. Kudos to my therapist once more for teaching me optimism!

And I ought to apologize, for that was probably more of an answer than the question required, but forgive a romantic sod their musings on love. I've not gotten to talk on the subject in some time.

#text post #i can also admit here in the relative safety of the tags that i do sometimes miss being in love #and that i do wish it would happen again #self care is wonderful and im glad to be getting myself more together now #but i miss being cared for and loved and being able to do the same for someone else

[thanataph0b1a]

two-three by now-years ago my weeklong girlfriend’s mother gave me a tarot reading. that week was full of cake making, scary family dinners and the beatles movies. it was a real steppingstone in my development-i mean, they were the first person i ever saw smoke weed. we kissed that day. i think we broke up a few days after but, for a few days, things were good. their parents adored me. their parents were chill hippies with two dolled up huskies and a shit ton of money. they smoked weed and played rock music really loud, or, at least, their dad did. my girlfriend’s mom was another story. she seemed more reserved but equally as strong. she had an undeniable gift for the divine. i cried the second she sat me and her kid down to do a tarot reading. i knew there was a lot i hadn’t known that i would have to learn one way or another. it was moving, truly, but, for as significant of a moment as that was, the one card i can truly remember, the one moment that stands out in my mind and is still reflected by that midnight bedside lampshade is the fool. my girlfriend’s mother’s exact words are lost but the gist was the following:someone u have wronged, someone who continues despite it not being in their best interest, someone u have made a fool of without the either of u knowing. they have blonde hair. u should give them a call. and i cried. my immediate thoughts ran to my childhood best friend. i promised their mother that i would, indeed, call the fool. i didn’t. see, jillian is the best person in the world. i don’t mean to exaggerate or wax poetic, but i do mean it when i say she is the single most kind person i have ever encountered. i was never very popular as a child. no one seemed to like me very much and i was bullied, but, before all of that resentment settled into my baby fat, there was me, jillian and paige. we played family with puppets together in the first grade. we made racially insensitive jokes when we blew bubbles through our straws into our chocolate milk. it did look like “afro milk” to a bunch of six year old white children. i was still a mean spirited thing at that time but it wasn’t enough to deter my friends. we were separated by classes in the second grade. paige moved away the next year. we alternated friends, some coming and going, but, until the fifth grade, me and jill were thick as thieves. i was sometimes angry and ambitious, she was bossy but dependable. together we sort of made sense. i went through a bad bit in the sixth grade but we reignited friendship in the seventh grade. that was probably one of the best and worst year of my life, second only to the year that followed. needless to say, me and jillian have known each other since my memory started to matter and we’ve grown apart recently. i moved away almost four years ago and there’s this wedge driven between us. it’s sort of indifference. i love her and would do anything for her if she asked. i would do anything and i mean that, because she is the only person who spent time on my lost cause. i was such a shitty person-a sad little kid but a shitty kid at that. she shouldn’t have gone through that. i’m sorry, jillian, that i used my parents’ religion to justify my own bigotry. i’m sorry that i left u in the sixth grade to hang out with the kids who didn’t care about me. i’m sorry that i moved. i’m sorry that i haven’t reached out since. i’m sorry that i’ve made u the fool and i haven’t done anything about it. i might be breaking the rules by posting this at all. the universe may hate me and my guts but i swear to god, jillian, if i could go back in time and revolve my entire life around u i would. because that what u deserve.

[clockworkgal]

I just finished Naruto Shippuden and I do not know what to do with my life anymore.

I started watching the original Naruto series with 220 episodes when I was a freshman in college and started the 500-episode Shippuden a few months after the pandemic has started and finished it on my third year in college. Basically the start-to-finish ride of the entire Naruto series was done in over two years but for me, it was more than that.

(This is starting to sound so dramatic wtf. Here's a Naruto swing for an emotional flashback.)

Looking back, the first time I have ever seen the series was when I was in elementary. Naruto—being the most popular anime during that time, was aired on national television. Being a child with watching TV shows as a hobby and having a television that can only view one channel, I was forced to watch whatever ABS-CBN had to offer every morning, Naruto being one of them.

In seventh grade, I had a printed picture of Team 7 safely kept on my clear book (which I still have until now) and of course, several pictures of Sasuke because duh obviously, I had a crush on him.

I remembered borrowing a CD tape of the original Naruto series and watching the Chunin exam arc over and over especially the Naruto vs. Gaara part where Gaara suddenly had a change of heart because aside from experiencing talk no jutsu, he was severely hit on the head by Konoha's most hard-headed and unpredictable ninja. It knocked the senses out of him and changed him into a better person. (He changes literally everyone whom he talks to tho. The power he has ugh)

Earlier in high school, I've heard a rumor from my boy classmates about Itachi killing his clan to protect the village. I was already outdated with the series because ABS-CBN was very inconsistent when it comes to anime 🙄 and I only watched what was being aired it was like reading the second installment of a book without reading the first. I was confused and clueless and have 0% understanding on what was going on and what the current arc was about.

In 11th grade, my classmate gave me a copy of Naruto Shippuden episodes from 200-300. She was about to delete it when I told her I wanted a copy. I was taking scraps from people just so I can watch the series (hard times skskskks). She then told me it's okay if I haven't seen the first episode and assured me I can still understand the plot because of multiple flashbacks in most of its episodes. I was convinced but unfortunately, the flashbacks did not help me understand what was happening.

The 2 TB flash drive I had that time later got infected with virus. The worst part was that, it wasn't even mine but my uncle's. Hard times, indeed.

Moving forward, now that I have finally finished the series from episode 1 till the last episode, I'd like to give this anime series a 100/10 ratings for the following reasons.

1. Plot Build-up

Who says animes with long episodes are boring?

Well, some of its fillers were kinda meh, but the point is I love how the series had one goal from the beginning and you watch the characters grow and their desire for that goal intensifies along with their progress. Not just the characters but the plot itself. The entire series might be intimidating and can trigger the laziness in you when you look at it in numbers but the hundred-long episodes of training and missions contribute to the excitement and build-up of the plot.

2. Amazing arcs and fight scenes

My gif says it all.

3. Heartfelt Characters and tragic/ sad backstories

I can't remember how many times I've cried in this series. I have grown attached to these characters and I get sad seeing them suffer.

4. Inspiring

There are so many life lessons I have learned in this anime alone that I can never learn from anyone given that I am an introvert and don't go out much. Naruto himself is such an inspiration to push your boundaries and do more to achieve your dreams. I feel like years from now, I will be quoting Naruto when I graduate from college.

5. Amazing Friendships

I hated Naruto for chasing a friend who didn't consider him as one and I totally agree that Shikamaru was more of a best friend to Naruto than Sasuke but we do not get to decide on that. After watching their final fight, I realized that Sasuke was indeed his best friend. Of course, Shikamaru was there through his ups and downs and supported him along the way making him a great friend. Although Sasuke wasn't there physically and they rarely had a heartfelt talk when they were still in Team 7, they know each other's soul so well that even without words, they understand each other's hearts. And that I think is what love really is. When you are able to see each other's soul without saying much and when you still consider someone special even if you get nothing from them in return. The two of them are indeed kindred spirits and I love this scene so much I can't help but cry.

I have so many things to say but I think this is all for now. I love Naruto and he has been part of my childhood and my teenage years as well as adult life and kept me sane during this pandemic—in short, Naruto has been part of my existence and seeing him get married, have a family on his own and become Hokage made me so happy it's like seeing a friend achieve his dreams.

[ellynefics]

Bane

Of an Angry Wizard Named Kihyun, Part 1/5

Bane (you are here) | When You Wish (coming soon) | Blind | Curseblock | UNTITLED 5

genre;; Realistic, Civilian!AU, Bad Boy!Minhyuk

pairing;; Lee Minhyuk x fem!reader

plot;;

@exomyapotheosis: “I would like to request a Minhyuk one shot in which he is a "friend" with whom you're always fighting. He keeps on piking [sic] up on you every time you're out with your friends to the point that you got mad about it. You decide to ignore him, after a while he gets upset. And when one of your friends ask him about that he confesses to you in front of everyone.” (a/n: The wording of this request wasn’t quite clear to me, so I did my best to interpret. I also threw in the bad boy and cursed twists so I hope you don’t mind !! Enjoy and thanks for being my first requester ever ❤︎)

Lee Minhyuk. AKA, that dangerously handsome guy in the leather jacket; the thorn in your side; the closest you’ve had to a worst enemy since that bitchy girl in seventh grade. Every time you go to the bar with your friends on a Friday night, he’s there, without fail. If there’s one thing you hate most, it’s being teased mercilessly, and he seems to know that. He’s always spouting some terrible--or sometimes even downright rude--pick up line. What gave him permission to act so entitled? Well, little do you know, that you’ll find out.

warnings;; slight bit of angst, smoking, drinking

words;; 5114 (5.1k)

“You know that if you don’t want to come here anymore, we really don’t have to, (Y/N).”

“I’m serious, it’s okay. I have fun here with you and the rest of the girls.” Smiling encouragingly over at the young woman by your side, you set a hand on her shoulder, squeezing it.

The two of you were walking into your favorite little establishment on a Friday night, as was routine. Despite the familiarity, you were still excited. Your hearts fluttered in your chests, looking forward to whatever might happen tonight. However, Luna, your best friend, had concerns, which you understood. There was one negative thing about this place, and that, to her, was:

“Even if you have to deal with him every time?”

“Yeah? We’ve had too many good memories here to let them go over a stupid boy who won’t leave me alone.”

“You're right, of course. But ugh, one of these days, I’m going to snap. He chases off your dates. That makes me so angry, I swear.” It wasn’t every day that you heard calm, sweet Luna lower her voice and hiss through her teeth because of someone. Her eyes swept the room. “Is he here? I don’t see him.”

“Oh, trust me, he is.” You could practically feel a gaze boring into you. It wasn’t even necessary to turn and see who it was, because this scenario was familiar.

Sometimes you wondered why Lee Minhyuk, the epitome of bad boy, stuck to you like glue. He would be able to have any girl (or guy) he wanted with his trim, lanky, but somehow muscular body and stellar looks. Not to mention, how he always managed to somehow be hot and casual at the same time. Leather jackets and torn, stone-washed jeans were his go-to. Honestly, how good he looked was so unfair. His killer smile got hearts pounding with little effort. You didn’t usually consider smokers fair game; however, you would admit that the cigarette constantly between his lips didn’t diminish his attractiveness. It was always obvious when he was near because the aroma of nicotine and cologne rolled off of him. Alcohol often faintly joined those, as well. Just the thought of him was a cocktail of swirling emotions, one of which was definitely lust. 

He confused you, because at first, things were natural and relaxed between the two of you. Over drinks, you talked for hours about relatively normal things. Conversation flowed easily. He was charming and alluring, treating you to flashes of that smile between puffs of smoke. Minhyuk had this aura about him that had you falling in love easily. Breathtaking was the first adjective that popped into your head at the thought of him.

No amount of thinking helped, though. It was impossible to compute that his approach was pretty much a given for every time you showed up. During the many times you had been at the bar, you had become accustomed to all that was Lee Minhyuk. His intense gaze, something you had been hypersensitive to from the beginning, would always catch you right away. Then he’d approach within the first hour.

And then, things changed. Drastically. One Friday, you stepped into the bar, went to order a drink at the counter, and almost instantly felt him at your side. Something seemed off, but you really couldn’t quite put your finger on what it was at that moment. (Later, you’d realize that his confident atmosphere was missing.)

“Mm,” He purred into the shell of your ear. “Are you made of chocolate? Because you look so sweet and delicious, baby.”

You turned and gawked, slapping him on the arm. “Lee Minhyuk!”

“But I’m serious,” His eyes got wide. “Can I take you out? Because you look like trash--”

You slapped him for that one, and he sported a large red handprint on the side of his face for the rest of the night. When the other girls heard, they cheered. That was the beginnings of a love-hate relationship for the ages. It seemed that now he spouted nothing but bad pick-up lines whenever you were around. Every time one would come flying out, he’d get redder in the face. Though his eyebrows would furrow in frustration, he didn’t stop. Which, of course, you took as being unwilling to stop.

Yeah, It was annoying as hell. Somehow though, it was impossible to bring yourself to hate the guy. Tonight would be no different.

You pushed the thought out of your mind as you and Luna approached the counter. Expecting to see the usual, more heavyset tender, it came as a shock when you noticed a new guy pouring drinks. And no, this wasn't any ordinary new employee. Really, there was no other way to describe him than glorious. He had soft, feathery pink and purple hair, thick, muscled arms, an obviously toned figure under a gray polo and black apron, and--last but not least--a sculpted ass and thighs. Both you and your best friend's brains were blanking, struck dumb in an instant.

Neither of you thought it could get any better, but then, he turned around. A chorus of angels descended from heaven. How was he simultaneously sexy, but also so adorable? His ears stuck out cutely and his droopy nose made you want to coo. Flush, plump lips rimmed a wide, sparkling white smile. His name tag read, simply, Wonho. Personally, instead of his protection, you just wanted him to choke you with his biceps. When you glanced over at Luna, you knew she was far gone. There were stars in her eyes. An instant crush, no doubt.

Wonho smiled, and asked in a smooth baritone, “Welcome, ladies. What can I get you to--”

“I’ll have some of that pink stuff!” Realizing she probably sounded dumb by jumping in too early, Luna blushed furiously. There was no way she would leave him hanging, though, so she hurried on, “You know, what a lot of the other girls on the dancefloor have.”

The sexy tender broke into a grin and chuckled. “Yeah, of course. And for you, Miss?”

The question took a moment to register in your head as your brain started on a different path entirely. “Oh, ah, a Piña Colada, please.” That was your standard, mindless answer. All thoughts of how the tender looked underneath his clothes were gone from your head. Minhyuk, over on the other side of the bar, was draining shot glasses one after another. From the look and color, they were probably filled with tequila.

Luna groaned once Wonho was out of earshot and busy preparing the concoctions. “Ugh, help, I can feel my pocketbook getting slimmer already.”

“Don’t spend all night up here, and it’ll be fine.”

“But how can’t I? Look at him...he’s an entire five-course meal walking around. And his thighs, God, I wanna cry.”

“I feel you, Luna.” You gave some semblance of a chuckle.

At that moment, though, Minhyuk, who was finishing off his last shot, stole your attention again. His gaze flickered over to you for a second, but darted away. He leaned his head on his left arm, blocking his face from your view. What was going on? Despite his annoying behavior, you still considered him to be a friend, so worry crept in.

“What’s got your tongue, (Y/N)?” You sighed when you realized that Luna had caught you staring over your other shoulder.

“Nothing much really. Just...Minhyuk. He’s acting weird tonight.”

Your friend perked an eyebrow. “Oh yeah?”

“He--” It was only then that you caught yourself about to admit something sensitive. Truth was, you paid more attention to your supposed worst enemy than you let on. There was a long pause, but eventually you decided to heck with it and let it fall out of your mouth. “He never tries to get drunk, but he just finished five shots and--oh God, I think he’s ordering more.” Indeed, Minhyuk was chatting with Wonho. It was too loud to hear what they were saying, but you caught when the tender frowned, and nodded slightly.

Then he turned, and you noticed he had your drinks in hand. Your best friend was good as gone now, distracted temporarily again. It might have been you, but you thought the tender turned slightly red the moment it happened. An adorable smile on his face, he slid your drinks in front of you. “Enjoy, ladies.” Of course, he just had to throw a wink at Luna as he left. Hm, maybe your imagination hadn’t been overactive. A twinge of jealousy might have run through you then if you weren’t so hung up on the other lovely boy down the bar.

“Don’t worry about Minhyuk. If he wants to act dumb, he’ll act dumb, and it’s none of your business.” Luna commented from beside you, making you snap your head back in her direction. Fuck, yeah, you had been staring again and didn’t even realize it.

The sigh didn’t fall out of your mouth easily, but you managed a, “Right.” Your chest tightened at the thought that Minhyuk might be hurting, but why did you even care? It flashed through your head that maybe you were still hiding a bit of a crush on him. Your brain screamed at you that you shouldn’t be, though. He was constantly rude, for Chrissake.

You shook the thoughts away in favor of focusing on drawing Wonho’s attention to Luna. They’d be cute together, and you knew that your best friend had been wanting some new life adventures for months. Whether that meant a new man, travel, whatever--you just wanted to see her happy.

Around an hour, and two drinks apiece later, you had successfully gotten Luna to break the ice with the hot bartender. The two were now flirting back and forth nearly every minute they sat there, talking. Of course, you looked on, sipping on your Colada, proud that your instinct had been right.

Your best friend reached across to drag her fingertips down Wonho’s--or, rather, Hoseok's--apron. (He had supplied his real name not too far into the conversation.) “So, what does the reward for that time in the gym look like?”

“I’d certainly show you,” A gigantic, blinding grin grew on the bartender’s face. “But I might kill everyone here if I did. Not to mention, it’s against company policy, my dear.”

“Then where’s a better place?”

“How about at my apartment, after I get off?”

“Hm,” she tapped her cherry red nails on her equally cherry red lips. “Perfect.” Well, it certainly seemed that Luna was going to have a nice night. Though disappointment lingered in your breast that you were a different story, you found it in your heart to be happy.

But it only lasted for a moment. Next thing you knew, Luna’s gaze was moving, and she gasped at something behind you. There was only barely time to turn and face Minhyuk before his arms were caging you in, between him and the bar. Instantly, your senses confirmed that his shots had, indeed, been Tequila. The scent rolled off of him like a tidal wave, and your nose scrunched up. Ew. Did he know how wasted he was?

“A--are--ya m’daughter?” Every now and then, he’d interrupt himself with a hiccup. “B’cause I wanna be your daddy t’night.”

“No, thank you, now p--please get off of me.” You shoved him away by the chest, a little more forcefully than you intended, but oh well. His terrible line was like a punch straight to the chest. Daddy--the nickname definitely did not mean the same thing to you as what he was implying. Instead, it recalled fond, loving memories of your biological father. To call someone else daddy would be a stretch, and you couldn’t imagine yourself doing it. The hurt that coursed through you made you choke up. How was he so insensitive and come after you like this? Not that he hadn’t used dirty icebreakers before, but with “daddy”, he had crossed the line, and knew it.

If that wasn’t enough, he recovered quickly and came for you again. His lips drifted closer to your face, smirk taking up every inch of your vision. “Aw, c’mon. I love e’rrry bone in your body, but it would be better if I could put one’a mine in ya too--”

“Stop,” you pleaded, and shrunk back into yourself, tears pricking at your eyes. “I said no, please, let me go.”

“Lee Minhyuk,” Came a low, warning voice from behind the counter: Wonho.

And then fingers curled tightly around your arm. It was Luna, and she stood up to push Minhyuk away, as well. “What the fuck, dude?” He might have broken into flames because of her angry stare. “Come on, (Y/N), let’s go.”

“But--the tab--and Hos--”

“It's taken care of.” Taking a quick glance back toward the counter, you realized she was telling the truth. There was more than enough in won bills, and a little slip with a phone number on it: hers. Hoseok was already separating his tip and the small white paper from the payment.

It all happened so fast that your mind was reeling. You were sure that you’d have fingerprint-shaped bruises on your arm tomorrow morning. Luna had a vice grip on you as she dragged you away, towards the front entrance. Every nerve in your body was waiting for Minhyuk to grab onto you again, but he didn’t. Daring to look one last time, you were able to spot him through the crowd, struggling to move out of a bear hug. Wonho must have hopped the counter, and was trying to hold his rowdy customer back. “That shirt is sooo b’coming on ya! Take it off, an’ I’ll b’coming too--”

Not for the first time, and certainly not for the last time, fuck you, Lee Minhyuk flashed through your head.

The next night, in the same place.

“I did--what?”

“Spewed three bad, dirty lines in a row, the first of which visibly upset her, and you were too drunk to notice.”

Lee Minhyuk’s head hit the wood countertop with a hard thunk, and a low, incredulous groan left his lips.

“You ok, buddy?”

“No...just gave myself a headache. But ugh, I screwed up really bad this time, huh?”

“Uh, yeah. If she comes back next week, she'll officially be a trooper in my eyes.” Wonho sighed, his eyebrows peaking. Minhyuk almost hated him in that moment. Doubtless, something like at least I got her cute friend’s number was running through his head. “But you know that you tend to use those ridiculous starter lines when you’re drunk, anyway?”

“I had to try something different! I thought maybe that stupid curse Kihyun put on me would void if I didn’t know what I was saying.” Minhyuk whined. He rubbed the red spot as he pulled his forehead up.

“That’s what you get for messing with an angry little wizard.”

“He would have your ass on a platter if he knew you said that out loud.”

“But he isn’t here, so if you never tell him, he won’t find out.” The smirk on Wonho’s face said everything.

Minhyuk couldn’t find the will or strength for a retort. Completely and utterly defeated, he sighed and drained a nearby glass of water. No drinks tonight. He wasn't rich enough for that, anyway. Crossing his arms on the bar, he laid his head on them. What rotten luck. He was sick of it following him around, and wanted to be over and done. Five months was far too long to be spouting bad pick-up lines, especially to you. Now, he was afraid he had lost you completely, with the idiotic stunt he had (apparently) pulled.

He hadn’t asked for this. He, too, actually really enjoyed your company. After those first two chats you shared at this very spot, he had wanted to get to know you better and ask you out. He had even stopped entertaining others’ flirting when he realized his crush. However now, some stupid bit of magic had ruined everything. Minhyuk would probably never, ever be able to say anything to your face again. Maybe even look at you.

And it was all, as mentioned before, because of an “angry little wizard”--Kihyun. Yoo Kihyun, to be more specific. Minhyuk had been close with him since a young age. Together, they were part of a bunch of boys that hung out all the time. This also included Hoseok (aka Wonho), a dimpled, energetic kid named Lee Jooheon, and his opposite but compliment, a more easygoing but very random and spontaneous boy named Im Changkyun. Everyone knew that Kihyun was more than a bit irritable, and his temper flared easily. Almost as well known was that Minhyuk was one to constantly push the spitfire to his limit. Five months ago, there was a night where Kihyun must have decided he had enough. “Fucking--I swear, when you see the love of your life, you won’t be able to do anything but tell them terrible pick-up lines. And it’ll hurt so, so bad.” Then he had raised his hand and snapped right in Minhyuk’s face. The taller boy blinked in confusion at the strange gesture.

Both, at that time, had failed to realize some key things about each other. For Kihyun, it was that Minhyuk had already met the love of his life, in you; and in Minhyuk's case, it was that his friend was an actual wizard. Apparently others in their group knew, including Hoseok-hyung. A twinge of jealousy pinched Minhyuk in the heart at that thought.

In any case, Minhyuk had quickly found out that the curse was legitimate. When he went back to the bar that Friday, expecting to have a nice chat, it didn't go as planned. He went up to you, opened his mouth--and something else than what he wanted to say fell out. Something about you being chocolate, because of your sweetness. What a cringe; that was certainly one for the ages. After that, he found himself unable to stop, following it up with one about trash. Horrified didn’t seem like a strong enough word to describe his feelings in that moment. In return, he had gotten a (much deserved) slap.

It took a couple of weeks, but he came to realize that this was serious. He couldn't seem to say anything that wasn't dirty or cringey when looking you in the face. With every week that passed, he got more and more frustrated. What was worse, though, was that Kihyun refused to tell him how to end the curse. Minhyuk apologized, of course, but still the wizard didn’t let his secret go. Hell, Minhyuk had even promised not to antagonize him ever again, at least five separate times. 

He voiced this to Hoseok, whining to his bartender friend, "What if this turns out like it did with Son Hyunwoo? He's been stuck in the bear charm for forever now." It had been five years since that whole shenanigan had gone down. Though apparently Kihyun still kept tabs on him, the wizard’s friends felt concerned about the whole thing. What if he never found love or changed his heart, the two things the wizard had said would break the spell?

Nowadays, Minhyuk worried about more than just himself. He had never felt anything so strong toward anyone than what he felt with you. However, apathy for him grew in your heart; he saw it in your beautiful eyes. Your brain filed him away as a nuisance more and more, and that was the scariest thing. Minhyuk felt hopeless, except for the fact that he knew, there was only one thing he could do. That was, to keep trying. Even if it killed him, he wanted you and only you by his side. Curse or no curse, winning you over was his first priority. 

He needed all the faith and strength he could muster. If he didn’t lose any, he’d push through.

At least he hoped.

One week after everything, you were still pretty shaken up from having drunk Minhyuk in your face. Yet, when Luna asked if you could handle going to the same watering hole the next Friday, you accepted. Minhyuk was probably just a particularly big jerk that night, and wasn’t actually trying to hurt you. What he said still stung, though. A voice in your head whispered that he wouldn’t be sorry, so avoid him at all cost; but the optimist inside also insisted that there was hope. He was acting odd...there must be something going on that you didn't understand.

So you decided that you’d attempt to strike a balance between the two. 

“Luna,” you said quietly as the two of you strolled in, “If Minhyuk comes over to chat tonight, please ignore him. I’m not going to say a word until he apologizes. If he tries to get physical again, I’ll shove him away and we’ll book it...ok?”

“You got it.” Your best friend smiled, seeming pretty proud. “Good plan.”

Tonight, you stopped at your little circle of friends before anything else. Even as you stood there and chatted, the familiar under-the-microscope feeling was creeping up. Finally, you and Luna turned and approached the bar. You expected his dark eyes to be firmly fixed on your figure, but much to your surprise, that wasn't it. In fact, it was clear Minhyuk wasn’t staring. His gaze kept flitting everywhere: toward you and away, at Wonho (when the tender would come to chat quietly for a brief moment), and then to the untouched drink in front of him. He seemed scatterbrained and affected. Where was the vivacious, lively Minhyuk that you had come to know at first?

Once Wonho caught sight of Luna, his wide white smile overtook his entire face. You would probably bet that by the end of the night, they’d be calling each other baby. For now, however, the greeting was just an enthusiastic, “Heeey! What’s up?”. Both you and your best friend ordered the usual. Also as usual, you sat by and third wheeled the resulting conversation. It was basically a repeat of last week, except this time you barely even thought of Minhyuk.

That was, until there was the squeak of a barstool: the sound of him getting up. Then a tap tap of rubber soles on the floor until you knew he was right at your back. Though you felt him tremble, and sensed that he wanted to touch you, he didn’t, thankfully. He cleared his throat, and then, slowly began: “Did the sun come out, or did you just smile at me?”

At least tonight, he was being tactful and decent. Still, you ignored him, chipping in on Luna’s discussion about classes at college.

Minhyuk let out a frustrated breath. It sounded like he had been holding it for a while. “I swear you’re wifi, because you and I, we have a connection...” he trailed off, probably waiting for a reaction. Well, he wasn’t going to get one. God willing, he would keep getting this cold shoulder until you heard a proper apology. What was going through his head? Minhyuk wasn’t dumb; he was fully aware of the effects his stupid attempts at picking you up had. Why didn’t he just say sorry? He had to know that you would accept it if he did. 

After a few more lines that flew without success, he finally seemed to get the point. By that time, he sounded very defeated. Sighing, he turned away, and made his way back to his stool. As he sat, you thought you heard him say, under his breath, “Fucking curse. Can’t even say my favorite.”

This strange game went on for three more weeks afterwards. Like clockwork, you and your best friend would show up together. Once a conversation started with Wonho (who now unashamedly called Luna ‘dear’, no matter the time or place, and took her on late-night dates after his shifts), Minhyuk would stand, approach and speak a few bad one-liners (he always backed off on the dirtier ones), and retreat again. It was hard to stay mad at him when he looked like a whipped puppy. You were glad that he never noticed you stealing glances. Most of the time, you wanted to turn and wrap him in a hug. The only things holding you back were the scary memory of his arms trapping you, as well as the single, misplaced daddy line. Besides, ten or eleven of those terrible, meme-worthy compliments was enough on any given Friday. The tension was unbearable; something needed to happen. You weren’t sure what, though, that was the thing.

It was on the fourth Friday after you began the silent treatment that everything exploded. Strangely, it wasn't from either you or him, though. That night was slightly different; you and Luna ordered your drinks from Wonho as normal, but immediately left afterwards to go chat with your gal pals instead. They were a good group, and you oftentimes regretted not spending as much time with them as you did with Luna.

Not five minutes into the conversation, some of the girls’ stares into the space behind you clued you in to a familiar presence. No doubt flickered in your head that Minhyuk was there. The suspicion was only confirmed when he finally spoke, softer than usual. So soft, in fact, that you barely caught it over the thump of the bass. “Isn’t your name (Y/N), or can I call you mine?”

It would have been fine. All fine. 

That was, if Luna hadn't butted in. It only took a single moment for her composure to snap, in front of the girls huddled around the table. In a moment, her face filled with rage, lips trembling. Irate yelling filled the establishment. “Lee Minhyuk! You should be ashamed of yourself, pestering (Y/N)...she doesn’t even like any of your pick-up lines. Hell, you even offended her that night--you know, the one where you got too drunk to remember what the fuck you even said? And of course, you don’t have the heart to apologize. Piss off! Leave her alone! Why do you even do this anyway?”

Though you hadn’t turned to face him yet, you could practically see his eyes widen. No doubt, they were threatening to engulf saucers, and flickering back and forth between you and your best friend. He was being stared down by ten or so girls, all of whom you were sure would knock him flat with a single swing. Later, Luna would tell you that his eyebrows knit together tightly, lips pressed flat and thin. Finally, in frustration, he exclaimed, “Because I love her, ok? It’s crazy, I know, but...”

At that moment, you experienced that fabled feeling of the world slowing down just for you. A confession? Now? It wasn’t entirely unexpected, but also a little bit of a shock. Also, you realized that it was the first thing you had heard out of his mouth other than icebreakers in months.

As you took the second to think about it, you realized you felt the same way about him. Even before you had a chance to process everything, your body acted on instinct. Turning, you came to him, gazing up into his eyes, laying one hand lightly on his hip, the other on his shoulder. “Well, why didn’t you just say that in the first place, silly boy?”

“Ah, because, baby, you make me stutter. Wi--wi--will you come home with me tonight?”

You rolled your eyes and groaned; yet, your palm slid up his neck to pull him down for a brief, slow kiss. “You can stop with those now, seriously,” were the first words out of your mouth afterwards. “They’re terrible. And besides, I’ve heard enough.”

“Gladly,” he replied. The excited smile that grew on his face was the most beautiful thing you had ever seen.

Later that night, tangled together with him in bedsheets, you hummed happily. Minhyuk’s eyes blinked, near to sleep as you rubbed his chest in small circles. You had always loved the early hours of the morning, finding them calm and peaceful, before the new, busy day arrived. You had never experienced them while feeling blissed out and in love, though. It brought you a whole new perspective. There was nothing you wanted more than to spend forever here, in this warm pair or arms.

He had explained everything to you, so there was no more need for words. Apparently, one of his friends was a wizard, and had cursed him to only say ridiculous conversation openers to the love of his life. Minhyuk gave you the option to not believe him, but you did. It certainly explained how weird he had been acting for the last few months. 

However, there was one loose end, and something you wanted to ask him. A question had been pricking at the back of your brain for quite a while now, and you wanted to get it out before you forgot. (Well, not like you’d just let this whole shenanigan rest, but you wanted to hear his answer.)

“Minhyuk, baby?”

“Mmhmm?” He ran his fingers through your hair.

“One time...I heard something about how the curse wouldn’t let you 'say your favorite'. Though I’ve had quite enough of your icebreakers for a long time to come, ah--I was wondering what it was?”

If all you had to listen to for the rest of your life was his laugh, you would be happy. “Sure, I’ll tell. But, you gotta promise to not make fun of me.”

“I can’t guarantee that,” you giggled, leaning into him. “But that's part of my love, you know. Just spit it out already.”

“Ah, fine, okay.” Minhyuk wet his lips before slowly continuing, “I’ll make sure your shoes are always tied, (Y/N). Because I don’t want you falling for anyone else.” Your heart fluttered as he whispered the last few words and leaned over to kiss you sweetly.

Sometimes, good things begin with a terrible pick-up line.

#mxwriters #Monsta X fanfiction #Monsta X scenario #Monsta X imagines #Monsta X Minhyuk #Monsta X fluff #Monsta X Lee Minhyuk #fanfiction #my fanfiction #ellynefics #ser:Of An Angry Wizard Named Kihyun #f:Bane #there's teasers for future fics in here lmao

[gayinthespacebetween]

Won't let your history get to the best of me

I'm on phone and I'm too excited to wait until I get home to upload this so here you go! Audrey/Evie fic (Audvie?? Eh) with Audrey being a bit of a bitch at the start but y'know, who doesnt love a little bitchines?

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...

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The first time you see Evie Grimhilde, it's barely the start of second year and your hair is let loose, like you always wear it. Hers is made up into a fancy v-braid, and you can't stop staring at it because well, this is Auradon, and girls don't have bright colored hair like that (maybe they should, if they would look half as beautiful as she does). She's talking with a friend and doesn't say anything to you as she opens her locker, three lockers way from yours.

Right then and there, even before you know her name or her reputation, you know Evie Grimhilde with her leather skirt and red blood lipstick is not the kind of girl you should be associated with. The girl at her side looks like she came straight out of a Halloween store with how much leather she's wearing. You don't like her. You don't like either of them, you decide, so you stick up your nose and close the locker with more force than you need to, and you walk away.

Besides, Evie is not the kind of friend you would want, anyway. She looks like she would fail all of her classes if she didn't use her body to get at least a passing score.

...

(You're right. She fails the first month in all but one subject, chemistry.

By next month, all of her grades are straight A's, and you can't help but think the worst of how she got them like that.)

...

When you get to first period (Advanced Upper Class Manners, of course) you sit down and your mind can't help but go back to her. To that girl. You decide she looks like a Vanessa, that she's all smiles and toothy grins that make people's knees weak. You start thinking about her makeup- except you're not so much thinking about her eye shadow as you're thinking about her deep brown eyes, you're not thinking as much about her lipstick as you are about her lips. You imagine her talk- can't decide what she's saying but she calls you princess and you love it- and she's holding your hand as she smiles at you. And then you shake your head, remind yourself that smiles and toothy grins in a girl like her usually mean shallow thoughts and irresponsibility, and reprimand yourself for not paying attention to your teacher.

The smallest part of your mind worries if maybe that's kinda gay, but you think Ben is cute and have been harboring a crush in him ever since seventh grade(on the day of your betrothal) so it can't be. All you were doing was wondering what it would be like to be friends with her anyways. That's perfectly normal- you've done it tons of times before.

...

Ignoring Evie Grimhilde starts becoming harder and harder. The girl had dropped in the school like a storm, changing everything in her part and leaving marks on it without any shame. By the week, you already know her story: she and that little gang of hers had been part of Queen Belle's orphanage program, but since they were close to out growing it, they had been moved to Abigail Godmother's home to spend the last two years with her and get a feeling on how "real life" works. You guess it's kinda sad, that they've lived all theirs lives without their parents, but you can't feel much sympathy with them when Mal goes around wearing piercings, Jay has a visible tattoo in his arm that you don't know how he got, Carlos dresses in fur and bleaches his hair and Evie charms her way into everyone's hearts. It's disconcerting, really, how she arrives and suddenly becomes the center of attention, stealing the spotlight you've had for years in mere months.

You decided you hate her, then. Because she's not your friend and she decided to make herself competition. Which, alright. Great, now you'll have to ruin her life socially. You can do that. It's necessary, she needs to know her place.

...

(It takes a mere text for the whole school to know how Evie slept with three guys of the football team already, everyone adding their own theories and bets on who she will fuck next.

You don't know what you hate more. Evie, who apparently is completely unaffected by the rumors, or the feeling on your stomach that you did something bad.

You doesn't know which one you hate more, so you ignore both. Or at least try to.)

...

It starts with a Chemistry project. (You've long since stopped finding such irony humorous).

The teacher is a new one, and he doesn't take suggestions lightly. He tries too hard to be strict when it's clear he still doesn't know how to pull it off, and while you played your part and obeyed everything he said, you still found it pretty hilarious. It stopped being hilarious, of course, when he decided to pair you up with Evie.

The girl doesn't look half as horrified as you feel. She just glances up at you and smiles. It makes your stomach churn uncomfortably and your cheeks to flare up. She has never smiled at you. Not that you've given her a reason to. You raise your hand to get the teacher's attention.

"May I get a new partner, if you please?" You're being overly flattering, but for some reason knowing Evie was to be your partner for this project is making you nervous. Not in bad way, she has indeed shown herself to be a remarkable student, which means you should work great together, but still. You don't like her, and by now, you're sure she doesn't like you either. You don't blame her. You haven't been very nice to her.

"No, Audrey. If you are allowed to change partners, then everyone will want to do so as well, and I believe it is best if you all learn to step out of your comfort zone and make friends with each other." He crossed his arms and leaned back against his desk. "Make new experiences."

"Oh, it will be an experience, alright." You mutter under your breath, dropping your hand in frustration. Girls like you and Evie shouldn't mix.

Evie doesn't even look fazed at your attempt to get rid of her, instead choosing to simply switch seats with Chad as she was supposed to do. Chad mutters a "good luck" with a mocking tone as he slips away that makes you want to slap him. But slapping is not ladylike, you remind yourself, so you don't. You never do.

"Hey, partner." Another smile, another uncomfortable churn. It's so much worse, now that she's closer to you than ever before. Her eyes are looking at you with interest and her red lips are pulled up in a smile, and you can't help but feel especial about the fact that she's smiling at you. And you can smell her perfume and it reminds you of the forest and is that a hint of cinnamon right there?

You probably looked dumb right now, tensed and with your guard up because a girl offered you a smile. Seriously, if your grandma were to see you now. Even if she's not your favorite person, your manners should still be present.

Thinking this, you nod and smile back, albeit it's a little more forced than hers. But everything she does she puts in a natural flow not unlike one of a royal, and you've never been that good at diplomacy anyways.

Evie sees right through you, and it's the first time of many that she does this.

"I know you don't like me. You've said things about me." She states calmly, as if it doesn't even upset her. It makes you angry, that she can turn your world upside down with just her presence and yet as hard as you try she remains unfazed. It's like you have no effect in her life at all. Which is weird because, well, you've always been The Audrey, daughter of Aurora, most popular girl of Auradon Prep and future Queen of the whole kingdom (if Ben finally decides to step up and ask her to marry him, which he will. She's sure).

You realize you've sorta stop listening to her, which is just plain rude, so you focus back on her smooth voice.

"...and maybe that way we could get this done."

Uhhh...

"I'm sorry, what were you saying?"

Evie's smile never falters. "I'm asking you if you want to start again. We can meet at Tiana's this Friday to get some coffee and work on this." She gestures to your homework. And really, your feelings are too settled for her to actually be able to start all over, so a "no, we'll just get this done separatedly" is what your answer should be.

"Yes. I'd like that. 4pm?"

...But maybe you just need to reevaluate your image of Evie.

...

(The study date goes very well, and so do all the others that follow. Evie is always there first, and by the third date she already knows you will ask for a vanilla latte, so she always orders one when she gets there so that when you arrive you don't even have to wait. No one but Ben has bothered to remember that it's your favorite way of drinking coffee. And she always gets up to help you sit down, even if she's a girl too and she has no one to help her sit. And she always picks a table far enough that you're not on the spotlight but not far away enough that you feel caged.

She's good with the small details, maybe too good. And well, if it makes your heart feel a little warmer no one but you has to know, right?)

...

Something changes. You start to actually get excited to meet Evie. She always has something fascinating to talk about. She's passionate about topics she's interested in and doesn't expect you to stay quiet and look pretty, but to actually participate and discuss as well.

A newfound respect swirls inside of you, and the both of you start talking at school, though you doesn't remember when that started. It just seemed like the natural progression of things. You still avoid her table, because her friends are always there and you aren't sure you like them enough just yet, but you accompany Evie whenever you have classes together, and those little moments light up your day immensely.

"You look happy."

You look up from your book. It's Lonnie. The girl isn't exactly what you would call a friend, but she's nice. And she's also your roommate, ever since Jane started to room alone, so even though you have different social circles you've managed to keep your small (yet still relevant) relationship afloat and well.

Closing your book, you turn towards her. You find it unrespectful to talk with someone with your attention elsewhere, and hate deeply whenever Ben just can't seem to put his book down even he knows when you're talking to him.

"I guess I am? What do you mean?"

Lonnie shrugs. "I dunno. You just look... Brighter. Ever since a few weeks ago." Something seems to click on her head, and she raises and eyebrow knowingly. "Ever since you've started to hang out with Evie."

You faintly remember that the girls know each other, ever since Mal fixed that ugly bob cut and turned it into beautiful brown locks. If you spoke to her (which, let's be honest, is still a very small probability), you certainly would thank her for that. "Yes. She's a nice friend."

"And just that?"

It's your turn to raise an eyebrow. "What are you implying, exactly?"

"Oh, nothing." Lonnie's grin rats her out, because she's definitely thinking and implying something. "So, you had a change of heart about her. Who would have thought?"

"Well, she's proven herself to be... Not what I was expecting."

"She's much better than you thought her to be for sure." Lonnie says, taking a seat beside her on the bed. "What do you think changed your mind?"

For some reason, you get really happy about the idea of talking about her, and you're suddenly very interested in continuing this conversation. "Well, she's not only drop dead gorgeous, you know? I always admired her fashion sense, but she's also really smart. And she likes reading and sewing... Very good at cooking."

"Oh? How'd you find that one out?"

You looks down with a smile on your face. "We went on a picnic last week. She prepared the food and all. It was really nice."

Lonnie smiles back at you as you practically gush about the blue haired girl. And well, there's a lot of changes in your behavior that you haven't paid much mind to, but you definitely notices this. You don't gush. That's... Improper, and for girls in love, and the only person you've ever loved is Ben, so this isn't making sense at all.

What exactly is happening to you? What is she doing to you?

Your brain starts making connections. Things that you've noticed but chose to ignore. The butterflies, the blushing, the constant need to be beside her all the time... All the signs are there. But you push them back to the darkest corner of your mind, because that's just silly. You have a boyfriend. You can't be- you aren't. Especially not with a girl.

Especially not with Evie.

Maybe Lonnie senses that you're panicking just a little bit, and so, goodness bless her, she changes topics. "So, how's it been going with Ben lately?

Oh. That topic. "It's been going great! Ben is such a gentleman, as always." You say, and you don't know why, somehow the smile that always blooms in your face when you talk about Ben is harder to conjure up. But you don't think much about it. The truth is, things with Ben have been harder and harder since the start of the year. But that's alright. It's just a rough patch. Nothing to worry about.

...

(A week later, Ben breaks up with you. In public, in front of everyone, and declares his love for Mal. And you aren't heartbroken. You aren't sad and wailing and trying to piece together what went wrong. You're just... Mad. And scared. Because if you don't have Ben holding you back, what will stop you from getting too close to Evie?

You decide you suddenly always liked Chad and kiss him right in front of everyone. You know he won't mind: the boy has been after you ever since you started dating Ben. But you know he and Evie had started a sort-of-dating-not-exactly thing, and while it's nothing official, you're probably hurting her.

It's the only thing you regret about the whole situation).

...

"I'm sorry." Is the first thing out of your mouth when you finally take hold of her wrist. It comes out breathy, because you had to chase after her to make sure she wouldn't sneak off with Jay or Carlos or Mal, though you're sure Mal and Ben are off doing something together, or just plain making out. It doesn't even matter- you just need to make sure Evie hears this. "I- I'm sorry. It was out of place and with Ben doing that I just-"

"Audrey! Breathe. It's fine." She quickly reassures you.

"I- but it's not! You and Chad were dating and I shouldn't have done that."

Evie frowns with confusion, and them realization hits her. "Me and Ch-? Oh! That? We broke it up ages ago."

Wait, what?

"Wait, what?"

"Yeah! I didn't tell you?" Evie waves her hand as if to brush the matter off. "It wasn't that important anyway. I always suspected he only hooked up with me to try and get me to do his homework." Evie grimaced. "I know he's your friend, but he's a total jerk."

"Yes, he is." You mutter unconsciously while trying to piece everything together. "So you guys aren't seeing each other anymore because of that?"

"Well, yes," she blushes a little. It always stands up nicely against her skin when that happens. "And also because I- I realized I like someone else."

The relief you hadn't yet registered you felt left you all at once, leaving you to feel sad about Evie's confession. There's a swirl of something else inside of you that's very akin to envy, but not exactly, but you're already too confused about the whole situation to delve even deeper.

"Oh." Your voice sounds strange. Chocked up, trying to hold your feelings in. But it's so hard to do that with Evie when she had made it so easy to let your guard down. "Who is it?"

"A beautiful person." Evie smiles dreamily, and that feeling flares up again. And this time you decide to stop lying to yourself, because the feeling is there, and it's real.

You're jealous.

"He'll be lucky to have you, that's for sure." Maybe it's the fact that you're finally acknowledging it, but wow- your tone sounds really lonely and desperate.

Evie, apparently, wasn't paying that much attention to you, because she snaps back into focus. Maybe she was daydreaming about her crush or something. "Yeah, I guess you could say that." She bites her lip in amusement as she looks over at you. Oh goodness, you're being obvious, aren't you?

Trying to brush it off, you start walking again emanating all that confidence that you're not feeling right now. "Come on. Let's grab a bite and you can tell me all about him."

In all honesty, you'd rather be curse with a hundred years' sleep, but just because you're hurting doesn't mean you have to hurt her. You've already done enough of that. All you need to do right now is be a supportive friend and be there for her.

And bury those damned newfound feelings in the deepest part of your heart, of course.

...

It's been a week since that, and you're positive you're going crazy.

First off, her crush. You know so much about him you may as well have been him. Except you aren't, because he has the girl he wants wrapped around his finger while you're left to hear the girl of your dreams talk about someone else. It's exhausting, but you've held up. You've listened, and acted excitement along with her, and given input to help her on conquering his heart. Which yes, it's as awkward as it sounds.

Second of all, but following on that same train of thought, there's the new wardrobe changes. Now, Evie definitely looks stunning in absolutely everything she wears, but she's actually trying now. And its too much for you. Who knew Evie would be able to give you a heart attack just by wearing an leather suit? You certainly didn't.

And so the problem is that you're spending more time with a more hot than usual Evie. It's all her fault, of course. But she doesn't know what she's doing to you, so who can really blame her? That crush of hers better appreciate all of her efforts, because the one suffering (or perhaps enjoying too badly) is you.

But you've made it through a week. Barely, but you did it. Maybe you can last long enough for Evie to make the boy her boyfriend so that at least she'll stop trying so hard. Or better yet, last long enough that she gives up the chase.

At this point you're just hoping you hold on long enough before doing something drastic. Which is why right now you're trying to have some alone time away from her at your dorm, trying to cool off after Evie decided wearing a skin tight dress for your afternoon together was an OK thing to do (and it wasn't. At all). And as always, you're failing miserably. Because as always, your mind is filled to the brim with thoughts of her.

A soft knock on the door, and you sigh happily. Maybe it'll be Chad or Jane or heck, even Ben would be a better choice than staying alone any longer. "Come in!"

But of course, since the universe has collectively decided it hates you, Evie is the one who opens the door. She's still wearing the dress. You groan, because really, You won't be able to hold it together much longer. You might end up doing something risky- like... Kissing her, or something.

She looks rather frustrated, and places a hand on her hip to reflect how done she is. "I'm tired of waiting around."

You blink. Now you're confused. "Waiting for what?"

"For you!" She gestures wildly, breaking the last remains of her composed façade. "For your move or your whatever. You know how early I've been waking up these days to get all dolled up and yet you do nothing!"

"I-what?" Your mind is drawing blanks. This is comic out of the blue. Just what in the heavens is she talking about? "What DL you mean? My move?"

"To kiss me! Or ask me out! Anything!" She finally declares, dropping down on your bed next to you. And well, she really shouldn't be so close that your thighs are touching right after she admits she has been waiting for you to kiss her. You can already feel yourself blushing.

"I- I still don't understand. I thought you liked someone?"

Evie snorts. "That's you, you silly." At your shocked expression (you probably look like a gaping fish right now. How classy) she actually swallows down her words in surprise. "Wait, you mean- you didn't know I liked you?"

"I thought you liked a boy" You screech, as you finally start putting two and two together.

"Why made you think that?" Evie scrunches her nose. "I never said I liked a boy."

"Yes you did." You state, and get ready to reference any conversation in which she mentions her crush. But the more you try to remember any references, the more you come up with Evie using non-gendered descriptions, and "they" as a pronoun, and using words like "that person" and "my crush".

You look down. "Oh, I guess you didn't. I guess I just assumed." You spare her a glance that you hope conveys your embarrassment.

Silence fills the room, until finally Evie talks again, albeit very softly. "So I was wrong? You don't like me?"

"Yes! Of course I do." You quickly reassure her, and then laugh at yourself for how silly you sound. "Yes, I do like you. And I'm guessing that your crush was me-"

"Now that's just obvious." Evie huffs in amusement, making you smile.

"So what do we do now?"

"Now?" She says, rubbing her chin with her index and thumb to jokingly convey that she's thinking about it. "Now I finally get that kiss I work so hard for. I deserve it. Making you realize your feelings was certainly not the easiest thing to do." She grins, hoping closer to you. You can feel her breath on your lips, and she's so close you're sure he can hear your rapid heartbeat. She's waiting for you to close the gap. Such a gentlewoman, as always.

You grin right back. "You were evil, teasing me like that." You chuckle. "But I do believe a kiss is well enough payment for both parties, don't you agree?"

You don't even wait for what you know will be a witty reply before you finally close the distance and press your lips against hers. They're soft and plum and make your heart flutter harder than ever before.

And you know for sure. Everything that happen was leading right to this moment, with her between your arms and caressing your cheek with her thumb as she cups your face and you treading your fingers through her beautiful locks that happen to be done up in a v-braid today.

Just how you like it.

#audrey descendants #evie grimhilde #my fics #Odie fics #disney descendants #audrey x evie #evie x audrey

[arthropoda-artistry]

it’s weird, being autistic, because i only found out two years ago (or maybe three? idk i was def fourteen though) but i’ve known my brother was my entire life, and so some part of me will always either be distancing myself from it, or distancing him from it.

 so for the first fourteen years my parents basically burned it into my mind that i was the normal one, because i could read and i thought in ways  that aligned more like neurotypicals and i was smart. that was me as a child, the smart one. i was never called beautiful because i, quite honestly, wasn’t. i was an ugly lil fucker. anyway, autism to me was always repeating words and loud voices and not ever taking no for an answer and hands where they shouldn’t be and and and- and my brother likes movies, so i’d only get to see them when i was with him. he didn’t live with us, he moved out when i was four, so his visits were always only about him. he lived in the berkshires, a six hour drive (3 there, 3 back). and when he was around, i got called a baby by him, and got told to cross my eyes, and then i was ignored as he asked my parents the same questions over and over again.

and i idealized him in a way. i loved him when he lived at home, the first four years of my life, and i continued loving him even when i was six and his tendency to never accept a no turned from my parents to me, from not accepting the response of “no, you cannot stay at home for an entire week” to “no, don’t touch me there.” i didn’t like what he would do, and i fought the way i had been taught by the girl who i called my best friend- nails and biting and then my parents would be back and i’d get in trouble.ididn’t talk, but my parents noticed eventually, taught him the word inappropriate and never let  him sit next to me in the car. but they never talked to me about what he did, and i thought it was what older brothers did- that it was a normal thing from a not-very-normal-at-all brother, like teasing me. 

and my brother moved schools and houses and things to obsess over, and i still loved him, but he annoyed me as i grew older. and my parents let me know in no uncertain terms that when they died, i would be his guardian. my brother would grow older and taller-so much taller- but he would never grow up, not in the college and living on your own type of growing up that i was expected to do - am expected to do

 (he’s fucking 6 foot 2 and i’m 4 foot 8.* thanks, god *)

and then i was fourteen and getting tested psychologically, which had been happening for years and was another i thought was normal, and then the word popped up in relation to me. i had autism. i - somehow - had something in common with the lumbering tower of brother that i shared a last name with but not a life with. i found communities on the internet, and embraced this new thing, even though at fourteen i had lost the hero-worship i once had. i didn’t think about it as something that was my brother’s anymore. i thought of autism as mine. but it was around that time that i found out that not only was my brother autistic; he was also brain damaged.

and then the summer of 2016 came, and the psychological testing was for depression and a lot of my life went to hell until i got on the right shit. but between the hospital stay and the asthma attacks and the election coverage,(goddamn that summer is up there with the summer before seventh grade in the rank of Worst Summer of my Life), i was having nightmares - and memories. and the memories were of a completely different sexual assault, one that happened when i was thirteen, but those symptoms of ptsd followed me into the schoolyear. and that, i soon realized, was not my only trauma. getting beaten up by your best friend for seven years and then having her try to kill you twice is also a thing that can, and did, psychologically mess a boy (this boy, me) up. and then, because my brain is a lil dick that likes to drag out all the trauma at once, the memories of my brother trying, and sometimes succeeding, to stick his hands down my pants came back. and i, surreptitiously, tried to figure out if it was indeed a normal sibling thing. it aint.

and i didn’t know if i could hold my brother responsible because of his autism affecting him- but then i remembered i have autism. so either he can’t be held responsible because of his brain damage, or he was completely aware that i didn’t want him to do what he did. i still don’t know which. i want there to be an answer that i can know, because because because i have this thing in common with him. because if i can hold him responsible, maybe it will help me heal? because if he wasn’t responsible, then if i have to take care of him upon my parents’ death, maybe believing that will make it easier? i don’t know.

i just know that autism is something we have in common. when i relearned how to stim after years of repressing myself, i could see in myself some of the ways he stims. when i look in the mirror, sometimes i see him looking back at me. and maybe that’s an incest thing or a trans thing, i don’t know. i just know i can’t love him the way i did before i knew what he did was wrong. and i can’t love my parents the same way either, because they had taught us both that our natural ways of expressing ourselves (stimming and talking to ourselves and avoiding clothes that felt wrong) they taught us those were things we needed to hide. they tried to make my brother neurotypical until they realized they were fighting a losing battle - and then they set their sights on me. and i’m not neurotypical. and i’m not unharmed by what my brother did and i didn’t forget it the way they clearly wanted me to and my trauma and executive dysfunction annoys them because i was supposed to be the success story. but i’m not - i’m just a kid. i’m just the damage left from what people have done to me

#actuallyautistic #tw incest #trauma #felix is ranting about his parents #ableism #my brother the movie lover #long post #tw hospital

[foxgloveburning-inactive]

kayleigh “not so nice” oc asks

im doing all of them because i want to have fun and torture kayleigh (asks from here)

warning: it gets real fuckin dark fjdsfldsfhsf

trigger warnings: self harm, death, serious injury, graphic injury, car accidents, general angst and darkness

1. What is one word to shut them up?

“Stop.” you wanna dig right to her core AND trigger an explosive cocktail of anxiety and RSD in her head that she most likely won’t even tell you about?? just say “stop” in a very annoyed tone

2. What is the thing they feel the most guilty about?

she still regrets cutting contact with her sisters for a year after poison pop broke up the first time because she thinks she could’ve used their support during that time in her life, and they were all hurt by it

3. What is the worst pain they’ve ever experienced?

being trapped in the car right after she and blue wrecked, with multiple broken bones and a lot of other minor injuries

4. Describe their worst nightmare.

dying physically alone, in a way that no one even knows she’s dead

5. List 3 fears; one “surface level” fear, one “repressed” fear, and one “deep dark” fear.

drowning

everyone she loves forgetting her (and doing better for it)

and see above

6. What is something that never fails to make them feel sick?

people making suggestive comments about her/her sisters being in relationships with eachother

7. What feature (physical or otherwise) do they hate most about themselves?

despite healing from a lot of her insecurity surrounding it, she still doesn’t like her tendency to get angry/sad very easily

8. Do they have anything that triggers them?

flash cameras can send her into a panic attack if she’s not told abt it beforehand

9. What is their greatest physical weakness?

she is NOT strong lmaooo she can be agile but she is not very good at physical labor

10. What is their greatest mental weakness?

her need for validation, esp from the public

11. Do they have any vices?

she doesn’t drink or smoke but music........music things will get her (songwriting at 2am, buying maybe just too many instruments, etc, etc)

12. Have they ever done something illegal? What was it?

she stole a pack of chips and a coke from a gas station on a dare, she’s broken into a motel pool with friends, broken into a condemned abandoned house. she did a lot of dumb things when she was a teenager/young adult lmao

13. Which of the 7 Deadly Sins best describes them?

i don’t like this question so i’m not going to answer it! :D

14. Are they prone to outbursts (of violence, extreme emotion… exc… )?

she is indeed prone to being extremely emotional, usually anger or sadness, esp bc of her RSD, but she’s learned to manage it over the years

15. Who do they hate the most?

exploitative assholes in the music industry

16. Is there anyone who makes them feel inferior?

no one purposefully makes her feel inferior, but her anxiety/lack of self esteem tends to get to her when she starts comparing herself to her friends (esp when it comes to things that arent music)

17. What sound always gives them a headache?

bells ringing. they had a system in her house growing up where her mom would ring a bell whenever she wanted them to come down for a meal or to go somewhere etc because they had such a large family and going to everyone individually would be a pain

but bc of her exec dysfunction, sometimes she wouldn’t come down at the bell and her mom would just keep ringing it until someone came and got her

now the sound of a bell ringing continuously grates on her nerves more than anything else

18. Is there a certain flavor that disgusts them?

black licorice. everyone hates black licorice, yeah, but like. she has a PASSION for it

19. Do they consider themselves ugly?

she doesn’t think she’s supermodel attractive but she doesn’t think herself ugly either; at least, not anymore

20. Do they consider themselves unlovable?

when things get bad, she considers a lot of parts of herself unlovable, esp her emotions and personal issues, but nowadays she tends to be a little more confident in herself

21. What is something that causes them great anxiety?

fucking things up in conversation

22. Do they have any mental illnesses?

yes, multiple! adhd, anxiety, and depression, all diagnosed

(skipping two questions that involved sexual assault out of personal comfort)

25. Have they ever been betrayed by someone they thought they could trust?

in middle school, she had a group of friends who completely turned on her in seventh grade after she had a mental breakdown; they basically told her she had “too much baggage” for them and didn’t wanna deal with her anymore

26. Have they ever been seriously injured?

she was in a serious car accident in 2011 with blue, and ended up breaking her arm, her leg, and a couple ribs. thankfully she (and blue!) came out of it with no long term injuries. she’s been seriously injured before that but that was the worst

27. How many times have they been in the hospital?

quite a few times! she was a pretty rough-and-tumble kid and got a few bad cuts/injuries as a kid, then when her mental health got worse she was checked into the hospital once as a teenager and another time as an adult; then she got into the accident, which had her spending a lot of time in the hospital, mostly for physical therapy and making sure her injuries were healing properly

28. Is there a certain type of person that disgusts them?

see #15

29. Does what they cannot see scare them?

yes!

30. Have they ever been bullied?

yes, all throughout school she got bullied for being a nerdy kid, for being an alternative kid, and towards the end of highschool for being queer (despite not even being out to herself)

31. Do they have self-confidence or self-image issues?

abso-fuckin-lutely

32. Do they have a bad relationship with their parents?

nope! she loves her mom and dad quite a bit, and they love her too! she’s incredibly close with her family, and her parents were the ones who fuelled her passion for music

33. Have they ever been in a relationship that didn’t work out so well?

most of her relationships before blue ended badly (granted, there was only a few of them!)

34. Have they ever self harmed?

yes; she’s cut herself before, quite a bit, although most people don’t know that. pretty much just blue and her sisters and ryka know

35. If they could change one thing about themselves, what would it be?

she’s at a point where she understands that even her flaws are part of her, and she doesn’t really have the urge to change herself anymore

that being said? if she could have horns - like massive black demon horns, not those weird plastic surgery skin horns people get - she would have those

36. Are they in control of their emotions, or are their emotions in control of them?

she’s wrangled her emotions by now, but for most of her life, they controlled her

37. Have they ever had their freedom taken away?

not really?

38. Have they ever been imprisoned?

she spent a night in county jail for breaking into an abandoned house with her friends lol

39. Have they ever been accused of something they didn’t do?

her sisters would always blame petty shit on her when they were younger because she was the biggest troublemaker lol

40. Do they often blame themselves for other people’s problems?

she tries not to anymore, but she often takes responsibility for others’ emotional states

41. Do they get sick often?

not really!

42. Are they comfortable with where they are in life?

absolutely; she has a wonderful family, an awesome career, and general stability

43. Do they wish that they could change their pasts?

she tries to live on the “no regrets” philosophy, but there are definitely things she would do differently (the way the break-up happened, bottling up all her emotions all the time, not getting mental health care until her late 20s, etc)

44. What’s one thing they wish they could do more often, but can’t?

spend time with her family. the band makes her very busy and although she will often drop everything to do things with/for them, she still wishes she could be there more often

45. What is the emotion they most commonly experience?

contentment!

46. Have they ever contemplated suicide?

absolutely

47. Have they ever gone so far as to attempt suicide?

yes, twice; once when she was in college (which prompted her dropping out), and another time right after the break-up

48. Is there anyone that they would willingly kill?

no, she hates the idea of killing anyone at all

49. If [name] was put into ______ situation, they’d rather die than live to see it through.

if her kids were taken from her and placed into foster care. despite being an adopted kid herself, she knows that the foster care system is most often traumatizing and abusive for the kids in it and she’d rather die than see her kids go through that without a chance at helping them or getting them back

#kayleigh #i am SORRY for the angst #i just wanted to do this fhldskhfshdf #lean on me

[yahoo-puck-daddy-blog]

What We Learned: Puzzling out the Hamilton trade, plus draft grades

A pretty good rule of thumb with any trade is that the team that gets the best player typically wins.

Everyone knows you can’t win without stars, right? And the argument can certainly be made that Dougie Hamilton is probably about a top-10 defenseman in the world. The two guys coming back to Calgary for Hamilton, Micheal Ferland, and star defensive prospect Adam Fox are certainly not on that level.

You can like Noah Hanifin (just 21) as a player with a lot of room for growth. You can like a versatile higher-end forward like Elias Lindholm (just 23) for much the same reason. But you can’t delude yourself into thinking either of them will ever be the kind of contributor that Hamilton is and has been.

Yet the Canadian media started circling the wagons pretty hard in defense of Brad Treliving, whose decision to trade Hamilton is interesting for a lot of reasons. Let’s first take the claims that Hamilton was not well liked in the Flames dressing room, which have been persistent. They were persistent in Boston, too, so maybe he’s just not a “good fit” on teams like this.

Now, because you can’t win without top talent, it doesn’t make a lot of sense for a team like the Flames or Bruins or, say, the Toronto Maple Leafs to bow to the pressure from inside the room. Hamilton would go to museums while the rest of the team went to Cheesecake Factory for lunch, and that was the big problem? Hamitlon got sick of having a hangdog expression every time the goaltending or the Flames’ lack of depth blew another winnable game?

It seems to me that the hegemonic hockey culture might need some fixing if that’s the kind of thing that leads to an irreparable rift, especially in two rooms that would certainly pride themselves on having lots of leadership. If your leaders can’t find a way to make that relationship work for the good of the team, that’s a leadership problem and not an individual problem. Because let’s be honest, the Flames outscored opponents by 13 in all situations when Hamilton was on the ice this season. When he wasn’t on, they got outscored by 45.

This isn’t even a “look at the underlying numbers” argument. This is the definition of “watch the games,” because the Flames were one of the worst teams in the league with Hamilton on the bench even when they had him, so what makes them think trading him is going to work out well?

You can make the argument, I guess, that Hamilton really succeeded in Calgary because he played with a perennial borderline Norris candidate in Mark Giordano, and before that in Boston he played with future Hall of Famer Zdeno Chara. His numbers with both those guys are phenomenal. But both suffer without him; Giordano got badly outscored last season with someone other than Hamilton as his D partner, scoring 25 in almost 525 minutes, but conceding 43. Moreover, Hamilton’s numbers with everyone who isn’t a low-tier NHL defender or worse (i.e. Jyrkki Jokipaka, Kris Russell, or Deryk Engelland) are almost as good as his numbers with elite guys. It’s almost like, I dunno, Hamitlon is a star.

Few are dumb enough to actually argue against Hamitlon as a hockey player, so that’s where the behind-the-scenes shivving comes from. Tale as old as time, in Boston, in Calgary, elsewhere. Not that Hamitlon is joining some kind of burgeoning superteam like Phil Kessel did when he got traded for being the hot dog guy or whatever, but would it surprise anyone in the world if the Hurricanes have more success than the Flames next season?

Because Hanifin looks good at 21, has a nice draft pedigree for himself, but what do you think his ceiling is? It’s almost certainly not “top-10 defenseman in the world,” which is what the Flames just gave up. And they’ve already said they’re putting TJ Brodie back with Giordano, then partnering Hanifin with Travis Hamonic. I’m interested to see how that works out in much the same way I am interested in NASCAR races for the crashes.

Hamilton, meanwhile, has the potential to turn Jaccob Slavin into a borderline All-Star.

The real key to this trade, then, seems to be the decision to swap out Ferland, who used a favorable deployment on the Gaudreau/Monahan line and a high shooting percentage to net 20-plus goals this season, for Lindholm. I think you could pick any random fan out of the opening-night crowd and have that person put up 17-18-35 over 82 games with Gaudreau and Monahan (and hell, the Flames were probably two failed right wings away from trying it). But Lindholm is indeed a top-six winger-slash-center and that’s something Calgary needed badly. Wouldn’t be surprised to see Ferland turn back into a pumpkin away from two higher-end talents, but maybe Carolina can find a buyer who doesn’t understand how shooting percentage regression works. (Dale Tallon on line 1?)

The Adam Fox throw-in is just that. Calgary needed to make that deal because it was pretty apparent that Fox intends to stay at Harvard for at least one more season and had no desire to sign with the Flames.

Let’s break the trade down this way: Carolina got a star who makes just about everyone around him better — but also has interests outside of hockey, golf, and going to the Tilted Kilt 40 times a year — plus a decent bottom-six forward they might try to flip, and the rights to a nice prospect they may or may not be able to sign. Calgary got two complementary players who have room to grow but will likely never be impact players independent of other stars.

There is, of course, a chance that Hanifin and Lindholm combined contribute more than Hamilton and Ferland. But I wouldn’t bet too much on that.

In the end, if you don’t have a good amount of elite talent, you don’t win much in the NHL. So maybe if your elite talent is a little outside the norm of how hockey traditionally operates, you should do what you can to accommodate those players rather than ostracize them. Stars are exceptionally rare and must be guarded jealously.

If nothing else, it saves the Calgary media from having to spin another inadvisable trade to a fanbase that already has plenty of reason to be skeptical of this front office.

What We Learned

Anaheim Ducks: Apparently Isac Lundestrom is fairly NHL-ready, maybe a year or so away. I don’t know that this fact helps them all that much because they probably have, like, a year or two left of this team being any good — especially up front — but they did what they could picking 23rd. The rest of the picks, they got some value, but this team has immediate needs. B-

Arizona Coyotes: I doooooo nooooooooooooooot understand the Barrett Hayton pick. Filip Zadina was right there! I guess Hayton’s a center but most draft boards would have put him in the late teens or early 20s at most. At five? C’mon man! But they drafted the English kid in the seventh round so, stiff upper lip then. D+

Boston Bruins: Apparently people like the Jakub Lauko pick but he was a third-round choice and, more importantly, the Bruins’ big target this weekend went to LA instead. Don Sweeney’s gonna be scrambling to get stuff done this week, and he’s working from a disadvantage now. C-

Buffalo Sabres: The Sabres finally have a good defenseman! And made a few other good picks including Matej Pekar and Linus Lindstrang Cronholm. Hard to line up against this draft, to be honest, except to say a team like this should be making more than six picks. A

Calgary Flames: When you don’t pick until the fourth round and you trade away an elite player, that’s bad, to me. F

Carolina Hurricanes: Much like the Sabres, they had a tap-in pick to make and made it. Jack Drury seems like he’s gonna be a decent college player at the very least (and he’s going to the program that recently produced NHLers like Jimmy Vesey, Alex Kerfoot, and Ryan Donato). Plus they got a top-flight defenseman. A

Chicago: Pretty easy to like the draft they turned in here. Boqvist is gonna be a player, and Jake Wise looks like great value where they got him. Plus, y’know, if you pick four times in the first 74 picks, you’re in good shape. B+

Colorado Avalanche: I’m not totally sure I get why they needed another goalie but the value is there with Gruabauer for a second and some dead cap space. That’s what teams like Colorado should absolutely be doing with their cap space all the time; get good players for nothing. Anyway, Martin Kaut, alright fine, that’s a safe pick. B-

Columbus Blue Jackets: Like Colorado, they probably made a too-safe pick in the first round but I think that’s mostly fine because this is a win-now kinda team, especially if they gotta start trading talent for fear of not being able to retain them long-term, so whatever. C-

Dallas Stars: I like that Adam Mascherin pick. He should not have been there in the fourth round but he’s 5-foot-9 so that explains everything. He’s one of two 5-foot-9 guys the Stars drafted. But to even it out, they took a guy who’s 6-foot-8 and two who are 6-foot-4. C

Detroit Red Wings: To get Zadina at 6 when he should have been gone at 3? That’s very good. To get Veleno at 30 when he should have been gone in the mid-teens? That’s great. To get a Lowell guy at 81? That’s genius! (Also of note: I don’t get the Xavier Ouellett buyout at all.) A+++++

Edmonton Oilers: Evan Bouchard at 10, maybe a little bit of value there since I mostly saw him listed in the 6-8 range. But that Ryan McLeod pick at 40 seems like it could be a real smart one. He’s one of those protypical “first-round talents available in the second round” that GMs always talk about to reassure fans that their picks are actually good. B+

Florida Panthers: This kinda felt like a whole draft of playing it safe. Which, I don’t understand that organizational philosophy since this team needs higher-end talent to take a step. Then again, Florida is good at finding talent in the draft, generally speaking, so I’ll give them a little bit of the benefit of the doubt here. C+

Los Angeles Kings: The guys they picked this year are largely immaterial because they got Ilya Kovalchuk and, in doing so, prevented a few teams in their division from doing so instead. Pretty good! B

Minnesota Wild: That Filip Johansson pick was a huge reach at 24. An almost “what are you DOING?” pick. But Jack McBain might really turn into something. Puts it somewhere in the “this is fine” range, especially because this is another team that’s gonna really need a serious rebuild in like two or three years. C

Montreal Canadiens: You knew they were gonna screw it up and they did screw it up. They really think Koktaniemi is gonna solve their problems. And it seems like they were mostly drafting for need, which is never a good idea. D

Nashville Predators: Only four picks, none before No. 111. Not ideal but this team is barely thinking about the draft. They probably shouldn’t have even shown up. Just Skype in next time. C-

New Jersey Devils: A 5-foot-11 point-a-game defenseman at No. 17? Seems like a bit of a value pick there, a little, maybe. But hey, it’s 2018 baby! Why not? Of course, they also didn’t pick again until the fourth round, so that’s not ideal. C+

New York Islanders: I like the Wahlstrom, Dobson, and Wilde picks. Ruslan Iskhakov seems like a bit of a reach but he’s going to college so he’ll have plenty of time to develop and he’s just a little guy. Looming over all that, however, is the Tavares thing. B

New York Rangers: Woof. Baffling. If you have three first-round picks you just have to do better than this. It’s not quite the Connor-Barzal-Kylington goof-up but it’s not far off. I truly don’t get it, even if I think the guys they did take are, like, fine. D+

Ottawa Senators: For the one millionth time: I like Brady Tkachuk’s game a lot, but he shouldn’t have gone fourth. There were mitigating factors behind his weirdly just-okay production, but it seems like Ottawa (and others) really talked themselves into this one. People were saying Tkachuk can be a center but if you’re not a center in your draft year, in a development league, you’re probably not an NHL center. Miss me with the “Koktaniemi played wing but he’s a center” argument, too, because that guy played in a men’s pro league. If you’re picking a wing, take Zadina. Not hard. C-

Philadelphia Flyers: They got Farabee basically right where they should have. Jay O’Brien, on the other hand, seems like a bit of a reach. Split the difference and maybe you say they’re a little below where they ought to have been? C-

Pittsburgh Penguins: Calen Addison looks like he could be a good gamble but they only had four picks so that’s tough to come back from. C+

San Jose Sharks: Huge reach on Ryan Merkley, didn’t get Kovalchuk, might get Tavares? I’ll be nice and not give them a D because, well, maybe they get Tavares. C-

St. Louis Blues: Looks like they got nice value on Dominik Bokk but I really liked that Scott Perunovich move at No. 45. Nice little draft. B

Tampa Bay Lightning: The Bolts, of all the teams in the league, picked a bunch of tall guys and an okay-scoring QMJHL winger. Not sure I get it. D+

Toronto Maple Leafs: The Leafs took four defensemen and all but one of them were under 5-foot-11. Again, it is 2018. B-

Vancouver Canucks: I love Quinn Hughes so much and Jett Woo looks like he could be a good one. Vancouver…. did well? A-

Vegas Golden Knights: Yeah, an expansion team with one pick in the first 99 is not doing well at a draft. And even Ivan Morozov (No. 61) seemed like a reach of sorts. No thanks. D+

Washington Capitals: Alexeyev might be a bit of a value pick at 31. Not so much Martin Fehervary. But whatever, you win a Cup and you don’t really care about this stuff. C

Winnipeg Jets: This was basically the most normal, regular draft any team had. Everything seemed more or less right where it should have been. So I guess you say that’s any easy C.

Gold Star Award

How did Ken Holland have this good of a weekend? Ken Holland!

Minus of the Weekend

It makes me sick that these kids are mostly 2000 birthdates. I hate it!!!!

Perfect HFBoards Trade Proposal of the Week

User “GeauxPreds1” is absolutely a Preds fan.

“Roman josi+ a small add for David Pastrňák.”

Signoff

No.

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Ryan Lambert is a Puck Daddy columnist. His email is here and his Twitter is here.

(All stats via HYPERLINK Corsica unless otherwise noted.)

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