#internal dear dumb diary

[ramrage]

God, I'm going to fucking kill myself i swear to fucking god. I don't know how I could've fucked my morning any more than I already fucking have. Here, let me detail to you how I am a fucking incompetent idiot:

Phone fucking shut off in the middle of the night so I get woken up an hour late. Shit's not turning on so I scramble to my laptop to tell my boss about the situation. This is perhaps the one thing that is not my fault, but tbh the list on such things starts and ends here

I decide that as it would lead me to being an hour late at least, it'd be better if I worked from home and so I let my boss know that my phone fucking shat itself and as such I'll be working from home lest I be terribly late. because that would be annoying right? well this was the wrong move, for anyone who is in a similar situation. he says something to the effect of "okay whatever you can work from home but not sure how a broken phone necessitates this"a nd like. whatever. fair. i could've. it wouldve been a bit more difficult since i have my train tickets on my phone but i could by more in person and then id be phoneless throughout the day and ideally id fix this shit asap but i dont have to

we're working on this post, which should've been entirely resolved and ready to go this morning, but i sent him the wrong copy for the post which we had discussed last night, so he was like wtf no dont you remember the change? and ugh. yes. i do. i did. belatedly. strike one.

then he wants to tag companies associated with the post except for one company. im fucking frazzled by my completely stupid fuck up and misread it as "tag companies associated with the post LIKE that one company" which struck me as odd since they're apparently weird about us posting about them. whatever. so i go through and list all the companies and send it his way to get an okay, but he's like. write out the company names properly. and this part is just a misunderstanding because the names will correct to the company's page name so it doesn't matter, but i guess he didn't know this which is fine and given my idiot fuckup not moments prior, a reasonable concern

i explain this, fine, and send him a screenshot of the drafted post with the tagged companies. including the one he said to not tag. fuck. now he's pissed like, i literally said to tag everyone /but/ them are you even paying attention. it would appear as if im not. what strike are we on now?

i correct that. he asks me to tag another company, which i do. turns out i didn't tag one of the /other/ companies that i had sent in the shorthand list and now he's fucking PISSED sending in all caps that i need to proof my work and that this post shouldn't be taking 30 minutes. absolutely correct, sir, it should not. i don't even know what to tell you at this point.

like holy shit. this was fucking brutal. i dont think i have ever been so fucking off my shit, and it was fucking THING after THING you would assume that after the first gaff, i'd be extra sensitive to making my list and checking it several fucking times over, but im just, fucking frazzled and i know we wanted this up before the start of the work day ideally so I'm rushing, and i already fucked up with the whole going in thing, which i honestly dont do much because i am scheduled to come in only twice a week and have somehow been managing to get sick on those days and i feel fucking awful that it looks like im probably playing hookie and shit because come on most people hardly miss work and they're there more often i just.

i used to be able to believe in my capabilities, at least a little bit, but im fucking up this ridiculously easy shit like what the hell. and its not in ways that seem to be entirely out of character for me. like, am i always going to be this fucking way? no. i dont have to be. i could put in the two fucking ounces of effort to get better, to improve myself, but i don't. for example, instead of making up shit to do, im writing this fucking sob story about something that probably doesnt even fucking matter that much and definitely isn't a big issue compared to the quotidien horrid shit people encounter.

an aside, as an honest assessment, i don't have much to do at this job which i guess is nice, but it makes me feel so useless and unnecessary. part of the reason i was more eager to just, work from home. obviously it's more comfortable for me, but i feel like im wasting my time and everyone's time and their water and tea and whatever, because im just taking up space and at least i dont have to pretend im busy if im home and i can get food and not be hunger braindead like i am when im there because im too normally-braindead to leave and get fucking food. like an idiot.

i need to get a new fucking job. i can't fucking come in next week (again, only work two days a week because this is a fucking pity job that i only landed because my dad likes networking, like a sociopath) like how do i face fucking anyone. just sit there like a stupid little bimbo looking nepo pity hire, the fucking child in the kitchen that you allow to tear bread into breadcrumbs because it's fine if they fuck it up, which they will, but it's something you can deal with because it doesn't fucking matter anyhow.

i feel like such a burden despite just sitting there. i am so fucking embarrassed and pissed i fucking. ugh. i

[psylunari]

For the ship ask game: kunikidazai, suegiku, atsulucy

NOTE: the post will be long as heck. I'll keep reblogging for every ship addition till I finish.

I'll preface this by saying, yes! I do ship all of these!

Kunikidazai

(nervous chuckle) buckle up, buttercup.

1. What made you ship it?

TL;DR: ironically enough, writing it made them take over my brain.

Mid-tier answer: It wasn't one specific thing. I watched the show and had 1 (one) plot bunny one year later (my most-read BSD fic). I was writing a MHA OC/canon thing at the time. While passionate about that OC/canon, it was a difficult fic, and I put it on hold.

Writing that knkdz fic proved itself easier. It was flowing. It forced me into a deep dive in their dynamic. The result is what you see.

Long answer: it took me 10+ years in fandom (legit) to like m/m ships. So it's kinda hard?? To watch things with m/m tinted glasses. AKA deliberately looking for m/m chemistry, or interpreting it always that way, or making it up in my head if I can't find it. If I come across a ship, I came across a ship. And I'm the same for any ship.

During my first watch of bongo straycats, I didn't ship much of anything. I looked at those two and went, “yeah, they're haha funny, if I were to ship something it'd probably be this”. I was done with the three seasons out, then, I “forgot” BSD.

I mean. Not that I forgot. I was in-between fandom phases with other stuff. So I didn't pay “the popular ships” much mind. They were there. A thing that existed. I didn't care for them.

Then it went like:

“Hey, I could use some change in my life, lemme style my hair like this anime twink.” “Fic idea for haha funny ship. What if instead of disappearing to commit the die, the anime twink was sick and didn't tell anyone?” ?????? “It is a CRIME that THIS dynamic is on the unpopular side, I'm declaring myself in knkdz hell till further notice and will do something about it.”

2. What are your favorite things about the ship?

TL;DR: they are multifaceted, their relationship is a deep rabbit hole of symbolism, and a blast to write about.

Superficial answer: complementary personalities + look good together + attractive + hilarious banter + suspicious moments + annoyances to lovers.

Heartfelt answer: I look at them from a complete perspective. Never one without the other, never caricatures of themselves. There's the caring domestic side, the dumb disagreements, the synergy and mutual respect, the defiance of internal values, the angst past and present… They are complex. The more you dig, the more you find. It's entertaining. It made the brain go brrrrr.

3. Is there an unpopular opinion you have on your ship?

It isn't often I come across interpretations I disagree with. Dedicated knkdz shippers and I are mostly in the same wavelength. My unpopular opinion, however, boils down to “I interpret both as some flavor of bisexual, not gay” and “mischaracterization”.

Will elaborate on the latter.

On Kunikida: headcanon as the fandom might, IMO, this guy isn't confident about love and sex. Let alone super liberated.

Picture this. Inexperienced + perfectionist + “dear diary, today I dreamt of my perfect wife” + “do girls not like me because I'm a nerd?” = pretty romantic, huh? And out of touch with reality.

Don't get me wrong. He does have carnal desires or kinks, I feel. I see him as shy and easy to fluster in the beginning. He takes time to relax and do his thing, being his own biggest critic.

On Dazai: he isn't helpless and definitely has an edge. I have a catboy agenda to set. Think like a cat's claws. Can and will scratch if unhappy, they're part of him, do not declaw the catboy. The feetsies are soft and adorable. They're also a part of him.

In the love aspect: when he LIKES someone, Dazai goes “brain.exe has stopped working” and does/says the stupidest shit. I think he orbits them out of no idea how to deal with it. Staying in the same space, wanting closure, not asking for it. Literal cat behavior again.

Now, in sex matters, he's shameless for… the most part. Not vulnerable all the time. He can flirt when it's for meaningless flings. What IMO WOULD make him cry is emotional stuff. Which may be tied to a sexual moment. Just not necessarily.

[anime-owo-kage-san]

I remembered this song from Dear Dumb Diary, and immediately pictured Damian singing this about Anya.

If Damian were more internally accepting of (and had already realized) his feelings I really think this would suit him so much.

Poor boy hates being labeled as 2nd, he’s not about to see Anya as a number either.

[whentherewerebicycles]

SORRY i have to do dear diary: work problems edition under the cut again

so on monday i volunteered to do this small project with the HR team to wrap up a massive project i’d led earlier (although of course it was one that my lead took over in the last 2% of work and now claims as her own achievement). got the go-ahead from my boss & my lead was copied on all the emails. so i set up meetings with the team today and tomorrow, circulated an agenda, and created a structure for us to use in brainstorming content. my lead was CC’d on all of this because i’m not allowed to email people without her knowing. then this morning she messaged to ask me to change the time of my meeting because she wanted to meet with the HR lead about something earlier in the day. so i was like ok whatever! annoying that you couldn’t find some other time and had to take this time but fine! i moved the meeting, sent out a note to the HR team, and don’t really think anything of it.

but THEN we just had our weekly meeting with our boss, and at this meeting ashley announced that she had met with the HR team this morning, gotten all the material needed the project, and would complete everything by the end of the day. i was just sitting there like “...i’m sorry?” and finally interrupted her to be like “so what should i do with them in the meeting?” and she was like “well you don’t really need to have it now. but you could just sit on the call with them and have them upload these three forms i need and email them to me if you want.” i just sat there gaping at her because what the ACTUAL fuck???? like you already block me from taking on projects and take credit for the projects i DO do and now you’ve escalated to stealing projects I’d claimed & completing them before i can finish them & then telling me that in front of my boss so it looks like either you didn’t trust me to do it myself or i was failing in some way and you had to pick up the slack? and also you make me look stupid in front of the HR team by scheduling your own private meetings with them and not telling me so i’m still communicating with them like i’m coordinating the project? like WHAT is this woman’s deal??? jesus christ!!!!

i have a meeting with her later (which she rescheduled earlier one minute before it was supposed to start without telling me) and i’m trying to decide if i bring it up with her to be like “that really fucking bothered me” in more professional language, or if i just let it go and use it as further fuel to get out of here. i feel like i keep letting things go because they’re annoying/insulting but they’re also just “oh i can explain...” enough that i feel dumb bringing them up because there’s that tiny voice in my head that’s like ‘did you miss something? did YOU fuck up? is someone mad at you? did your boss say yes to your face and then go over your head to tell your lead to do the project for you?’ which just makes me feel all uncomfortable and lowkey anxious even though i’m like if i DID fuck up recently somehow (how could i have fucked up?? i’ve been out for three weeks!!!! i literally have not had opportunity to fuck up!!!) and my boss handled it that way instead of addressing it with me, that’s just terrible management and should not be something i internalize. but AGH the fucking MIND GAMES in this team and just all! the! tiny! ways! my lead undermines me or tries to make me doubt myself. and THEN i have no idea if she’s doing it intentionally or if she’s just kinda shitty at supervising people or at communicating clearly (which is funny because she talks all the time about how she’s such a ~relator~ whose biggest skill is building relationships and communicating with people). idk man it just makes me feel bad and then it feels even worse to stew in the negative feelings all day. like i don’t actually ENJOY complaining i would much rather just have a job where i get to work hard alongside people i generally like and respect and all of my dear diary posts are about how rewarding i find my work or whatever!!! blehhhh okay gotta go do a quick lap around the house before i can face her in 5 minutes. 

[muffuletadiver]

we will not have a true international womens day until we all collectively start posting dear dumb diary screenshots with the same ferocity of diary of a wimpy kid ones

[whichships]

yall are so wrong for saying Jamie would angst over angeline when it's clearly angeline who's been pining for years

[screaming--agony]

Dear Diary,

My hands won’t do what I want them to. I confuse my left, right, up, down, symbols-on-controllers, my words. “Are you dumb?” At the moment yes, I can’t function. And it gives me such anxiety entire body trembles, my hands to where I can’t pick anything up without dropping/spilling or simply write, my voice stammers. I can’t function. Everything is internally-frustrating. I keep doing dumb shit because my body won’t do what my brain demands. I know what I should be saying/doing but I can’t. I’m trying my hardest but I’m failing. Migraines aren’t much better and medications are always changing because nothing works. Scrambled brain has spread to scrambled body. I don’t know what to think. I don’t know how to feel. If I think too much on it, my dark thoughts creep and that’s a travesty. One step forward, ten steps back. It’s discouraging.

[oneweekoneband]

In the first cold hours of a new December morning, Taylor Swift once again revealed herself to be the primary antagonist in my hero’s journey. Weary and woebegone as I am, I will not waste strength on any attempt to deny that this latest attack has knocked me off balance, but I believe it is important that I—we, really, the lot of us who have been bloodied pitiably beneath this most brutal show of force—rebound immediately into a defensive posture so that there might be any hope at all for survival. Taylor’s second pandemic album will be released at midnight tonight, so I guess Shakespeare and his little “play” about elder abuse can get fucked after all. The album is called evermore. It was hubris, I can see in retrospect, which led me to tempt my enemy by writing all these words about her on this, the week of her birthday, knowing as I do that Taylor is one of those especially dangerous adults who make a big deal about both birthdays and lucky numbers. Icarus is my name now, covered in melted wax and tumbling to the sea. So as to steel ourselves for these horrors yet to come, I offer now, with not arrogance but the faith of the foolhardy, my best conjecture as to the content of each detestable track. 

willow - Could be about a tree. Could be about a girl. More likely it is both somehow, which is extremely pervy, and not just because that’s part of the plot of the unspeakably cursed The Raven Cycle novels, which I, a full blown adult with, generally speaking, normal brain function, voluntarily read for the first time this summer because some of us, ma’am, used the pandemic for activities that hurt only ourselves, not others. Well, happy holidays, tree fuckers.

champagne problems - Whatever this is, know that I will be considering it a work after Fall Out Boy’s “Champagne for My Real Friends, Real Pain for My Sham Friends” and I’ll be right to do so and many people will say as much admiringly and they’ll smile at me with pride and doff their caps as I go.

gold rush - If this song is anything but a loving, comprehensive summation of the children’s novel DEAR AMERICA Seeds of Hope: The Gold Rush Diary of Susanna Fairchild then I’m going to walk directly out of my home and, deadly virus be damned, keep walking until I’ve entered Taylor Swift’s instead, at which point I will begin to scream out a litany of complaints at the very top of my voice, ceasing only when her security team kills me or we fall in love.

tis the damn season - Worst case scenario this is a sad Christmas song (the best kind of Christmas song) and it devastates me in the most degrading way possible. Best case scenario it’s really bad and dumb and I can live without pain.

tolerate it - Many possibilities here. Could be about white-knuckling it through a period of depression, or a breakup. Most obviously, it could be about COVID-19 lockdowns keeping us trapped in our homes, disconnected from loved ones, going slow-brained and strange, bowls piling up, and suddenly so desperate for human interaction that even memories of having drinks with somebody from Hinge who quoted Friends twice in an hour are tantalizing in comparison to the touch-starved dreamstate of staying indoors... But I kinda feel like this is Taylor replying “COPE” from on high to my tweets about how I would rather be boiled alive than have to face the existence of this record.

no body, no crime (feat. Haim) - What would be very good is if this is a homosexual romp about Taylor Swift and the one hot Haim guitar girl with the really gay energy doing a murder together a la “Somethin’ Bad” by Miranda Lambert with Carrie Underwood, but honestly, it is probably another song about Gone Girl.

happiness - Impossible to speak on this since, thanks to Taylor Swift, happiness is something with which I have no familiarity. 

dorothea - Have seen chirping on the odious bird application about how perhaps this song title suggests that Taylor has written a song about Middlemarch, titling it for Dorothea Brooke, but I reject this because it implies that Taylor has read Middlemarch, which is a premise I cannot accept. Whether this refusal is out of self-preservation, being unwilling and in fact unable to face a world where Taylor Swift read and was moved to creation by the novel which was my most essential friend the summer I got dumped by a guy who I still had to work feet away from in a candle factory for another month, and about which Emily Dickinson (Emily Dickinson whose birthday it happens to be today, which isn’t to say that this means anything about anything. I am simply trying to batten down all hatches literally and spiritually in light of having been had once again by this numerology obsessed demon) once wrote "What do I think of Middlemarch? What do I think of glory.” or because I just at my core do not believe that Taylor has read a single book since Gone Girl I couldn’t possibly say.

coney island (feat. The National) : Some ungodly americana ass bullshit that is going to ruin my life. The thought of holy terror shaped like a horse girl Taylor Swift and trickster nymph in the body of a tax accountant Matt Berninger, two individuals I have allowed, separately, to cause me grievous psychic harm, having even the barest amount of one to one contact, even digitally, has made me want to peel all my skin off and put it back on flipped inside out so that I might, when I look in the mirror, see a version of myself which approximates how I feel.

ivy - Another song for the plant lesbians. That’s fine, and I’m happy for that community, but what I want to know, looking at this growing pile of songs named after women, is where, Taylor, is the song about loudmouth queen Inez, legendary gossip and, for my money, the star of folklore?  

cowboy like me - Putting it as mildly as humanly possible, to slit my throat would be less cruel. I am drawing a straight line from me writing illegible sequels to perfect film An American Tail: Fievel Goes West (itself a sequel) in crayon as a toddler, to Paula Cole’s “Where Have All the Cowboys Gone?” on the radio in my mom’s two door Honda, to me everyday after school in third grade changing into the cowboy costume my godmother bought, to me at fourteen internalizing a sense of righteous indignation that would take years to even begin to outgrow when Crash beat Brokeback Mountain for Best Picture, to the winter I dropped half my classes out of fear and sickness and read paperback westerns on the twenty third floor of the college library for tens of hours at a go, to the profoundly gay episode of Supernatural called “Tombstone” which is, yes, named for the profoundly gay cowboy film Tombstone, to the inspired and revitalizing pause in “Space Cowboy” by Kacey Musgraves where she’s like, “You can have your space........ cowboy”, to Mitski’s Be the Cowboy, to the perfect boygenius cover of certified classic “Cowboy Take Me Away”, to whatever the hell this is going to be.That line is not to make a point at all. It’s just that there is a line and beside it there is me, incapacitated.

long story short - Just like all the other times anyone has ever invoked this phrase in the entire history of human beings expressing themselves with language, it is going to be a huge lie, because this woman never shuts up.

marjorie - After all that Taylor has put me through over the years, she should have at least named one of these wretched things “ellen” after my dead Sagittarian grandmother, whose birthday is tomorrow, December 11th, which is again, the release date of Taylor Swift’s second album in sixth months, but it’s probably for the best that she didn’t because you simpletons would immediately think it was an homage to George Bush’s friend Dory the fish, and therefore gay, regardless of the actual text of the song, and it’d be the “betty” massacre all over again. That being said, this is almost assuredly another horny song about some mid-century white lady. Only days ago Taylor was telling Entertainment Weekly that she’s been watching a lot of movies in quarantine, and while she didn’t name 1958’s Marjorie Morningstar starring Natalie Wood, I wouldn’t put it past her.

closure - God, I hope this one is another Kaylor classic so we can all act like complete raving lunatics online from the confines of our own plague quarters for a few days. It’s been a hard year.

evermore (feat. Bon Iver) - I’ll be catatonic by this point. Who cares?

right where you left me - Yes, in hell.

it’s time to go - Yes, TO HELL.

[driedtangerinepeel]

just saw a twitter post about dear dumb diary, and it hit me like a train how much it shaped me when i was a young girl. incredible that im gonna write an essay about but i think its like a big brain thing to be able to analyze works that have shaped you so much and you not even realizing until a decade later.

with all the subliminal conditioning from media growing up, misogyny was a common theme in every piece of media i and many other young girls would consume, examples being hating popular girls, finding reasons to fight or otherwise be petty (i.e. boys usually), and just being plain suspicious and weary of other young girls who may not fit the mold of the ‘desired’ type; quiet, shy, nerdy, basically quirky n moldable. now with dear dumb diary, it starts off the same way, jamie kelly is odd, weird and otherwise not conventionally attractive, she has her weird best friend isabella, a beagle named stinker and a fat crush on some boy named hudson rivers. from the beginning of the book, she essentially despises and dissects popular girl, angeline, who is blonde, pretty and otherwise loved amongst everyone. as the series continues, jamie kelly continues to make observations on her mannerisms and weird explanations to angeline’s ‘perfectness’. now this book could’ve been the perfect addition to conditioning young girls to further grow their internalized misogyny, but no! it turns out angeline is popular because she IS just a really nice person, and jim benton did a wonderful job slowly progressing their friendship, explaining the otherwise uncomfortableness of a young girl figuring out what friendship is with someone they used to ignorantly dislike. 

now i really dont know why i summarized it, but growing up as jamie kelly and thinking i was ‘cool’ in being the ‘quirky’ kid, this series set roots in me to NOT continue to be that annoying kid! i mean obviously i couldn’t avoid the odd phases of trying to be different, but it really set me up to grow up not being the type of person to choose conflict over companionship with other girls. like to be able to navigate these inner conflicts of hating vs. meeting the ‘other’ is so crucial to building relationships that i honestly couldn’t have sustained if i had the thought process of a jamie kelly in the beginning of the series. it also kickstarted my deep rooted hatred for heterosexual cis men, so there’s that.

i think i’ll revisit the series to see what i have also missed.

[ramrage]

begrudgingly agreed to hang out with my friend who is fucking fiending for my puss. let’s see if he tries some shit or refers to us hanging out as a date

[llendrinall]

Omg if an adult Draco woke up in 5 year old Draco's body and he wanted to make his father's life a living hell. Id read that, please please tell us the stuff he'd get up to. (as well as the stuff you would get up to at school, please)

It would be a nightmare for all involved. Draco, who had fought so much, suffered so much in order to atone not only for his mistakes but those of his family… and he finds himself back! All progress lost! He had broken his back, literally (it was a really dumb idea and Harry was very angry with him) to get Granger to warm up to him. Longbottom had forgiven him! (And Draco doesn’t even know what exactly he did to merit that). Harry had…

Harry had kissed him the weekend before.

And now he is back in his five-year-old body. Not even eleven, when he could see Harry and make a difference. No, he is five, and Draco cries and rages so much that he develops a fever and is incoherent for a week.

Afterwards… Well, you know how parents pride themselves in their children’s achievements? How parents want their children to be better than them? Lucius has found there is a limit to it. Having his son be more eloquent and advanced than any other child his age is great. Having his five-year-old son tell him with impeccable grammar that he, Lucius, will bring the ruin of their house is not great at all. Draco looks at him with a cherubic face and eyes that are burning grey, accusing him of crimes that even Narcissa doesn’t know about. Crimes that Lucius had barely begun to plan.

It is terrifying.

It is well known that what muggles call “demonic possessions” are nothing more than a wizard having a little too much fun with an imperius. But when Draco grabs Lucius’ wand, goes down to their hidden vault and, and, and opens it! He- he just casts the spell! Draco is five and he is doing magic that many adults struggle with! Oh, then Lucius wants to believe there might be something else.

(Out of all the forbidden things in their vault Draco went straight to the diary the Dark Lord had entrusted Lucius. Straight to it. And he destroyed it that very same night.)

“You failed.” Draco says, hot and angry. He is so pale and soft and full of fire. “You failed at everything and I had to take your place. I was given an impossible task as punishment to you, threatened not only with my death but the whole family, because of you!”

“Tenses, darling.” Says Narcissa softly. Narcissa is blind to the monster they have in the house. She doesn’t see it. She is convinced that there is nothing wrong with Draco, that he is just a very powerful seer who is a bit confused with timelines and verb tenses.

Draco is not a seer. Lucius is sure of that because if he were, then he would know that Lucius is thinking of… cleaning up the line. Narcissa is still young and she can give him another son or Lucius can remarry.

He is not a seer, but one day over breakfast Draco looks up and says “It won’t work. Whatever you are plotting, it won’t work. I can’t recall a single plan of yours that worked longer than a month. Kicking Dumbledore from Hogwarts, bribing the Ministry, bringing back the Dark Lord. It never works.”

So Lucius packs up his things and leaves the country quietly.

Narcissa is… shocked, which means she is furious, betrayed, and briefly terrified that she might lose her income and secure position. But once she is reassured that she still holds the house and the fortune she takes a big breath, internally swears that next time she comes across Lucius she will castrate hex him, and steps up into the role of Lady of the House.

She also listens to Draco. She insists that what Draco says has happened is yet to come, but she listens.

Draco wants to get Harry at once, but it is not so easy to find a seemingly normal muggle family in the sea of actually normal muggle families living an hour away from London. In the meantime, Narcissa visits Flourish and Blotts every day for a week until she finally gets there at the same time than the Weasleys. Then it’s a question of dropping a handkerchief and waiting for the bespectacled Weasley to fetch it for her and then, well, he is so eloquent and polite that Narcissa insists on buying young, Percival, was it? She shall buy him a quill. Any quill he wants. Don’t look at the price and just pick whatever quill you like best, young man. You must have a proper quill to write your letters.  

Molly Weasley would rather drag herself through shards of glass than accept a gift from a Malfoy; but one look at Percy tells her that if she takes this from him, if she takes his once chance of having something New and Fancy and Just For Him, he will hate her forever. So Molly relents (as Narcissa knew she would because mothers are predictable). Two weeks later Draco has a play date with Ronald.

“I think you should play Quidditch, Draco, dear.” She says, because horrendous as Lucius’ attitude was, she does recognize that Draco can be a bit off-putting. There isn’t that much talking with Quidditch and Draco is clever enough to let the young Weasley win two out of three times.

It takes thirteen months to find Harry and by then Narcissa has got a foot in both the Weasley’s and Longbottom’s houses. The latter was an excruciating effort and is still a very much work in progress. Narcissa had to let that bulldog of Augusta Lonbottom seer her crying and even now they are one wrong word away of losing all progress, but the children are talking and that was the goal.

She is weighting the pros of buying a house near the Dursleys and just moving there versus the advantage of frequently inviting the Weasley kids to the manor, when she sees the anxious look in her son’s face, a look of urgency and desperation and…

“Draco,” she cries, softly and sadly. Beautiful Draco, six years and two months and with a face like a silver coin. “Draco, dear, do you love this boy? I don’t mean like you love Mummy. Do you…”

“I know what you mean, Mother.” Draco says, serious, he is always so serious. She supposes he has to be to contain the fire burning inside. “I am not a child, I have told you. And I love him with all my heart.”

Oh.

“Then, you shouldn’t meet so soon.” Narcissa says firmly, although inside her heart is aching and she doesn’t know why. “Children who grow together tend to see each other as siblings. Why, your Great Aunt Marthia grew up with Gaius Mulciber, her fiancée, and their marriage was very difficult. I think he tried to poison her in order to marry his lover, or the other way around. I can’t remember. In any case, it is better to wait.”

But Draco doesn’t care. He doesn’t want to wait. He doesn’t want Harry to spend a single day more than necessary in that house where he was miserable and unloved. Whatever it takes, he says. Whatever it takes, even if the price is not loving Draco. Let’s rescue him now.

Narcissa explains that waiting would be much better. There are other things they have to keep in mind, like the return of the Dark Lord and the fact that Harry is linked to him. It can’t be that bad, the muggle house. Just bad enough that Harry will jump easily and eagerly to the wizarding world once it’s presented to him, so he will be all the more willing to sacrifice his…

“oh”, Narcissa says, very softly, not even an exclamation mark or a capital.

“oh”, she repeats.

Internally, she thinks “that bastard”. Dumbledore, of course. It is well known that Dumbledore wants Voldemort’s destruction at whatever cost.

“Draco you have to get yourself invited to the Longbottom’s house.” Narcissa says. Something in her tone finally cuts Draco’s unending cries that they have to get Harry, he will do it himself even if he is just one meter and ten centimeters tall.

Draco is a charming b-. Draco is charming, boy, child or adult trapped in a kid’s body. He gets an invitation and a layout of the Longbottom’s house. Narcissa then dons a pair of sensible country boots that she doesn’t mind getting dirty with mud and barely sleeps for the next ten days. Her skin suffers from it greatly, mind you.

By day three she has successfully stolen the rat Scabbers from the Burrow. She was going to switch it with a real pet rat, but it escapes and she can’t go chasing it. Then she begins a ten-days terror program on the Longbottoms. Footprints on the flowerbeds, upsetting the warding charms on the doors, definite signs of tampering in the chimney… Augusta Longbototm is many things, but she is certainly not a fool and by day four she is at the Ministry demanding help form the Auror office. It takes five freaking days for them to send a couple or aurors down. Narcissa is incensed on her behalf.

She waits until Dumbledore sends Moody down to the house. Moody casts extra protection charms and lays some traps and that night Narcissa pushes a stunned Pettigrew into what seems the nastiest of all of the traps. The one Dumbledore told Moody not to use but he still prepared the moment he left. In goes Pettigrew, stunned and wounded because Narcissa is under a lot of stress and she might have tortured him a bit.

Narcissa and Draco are there to greet Sirius, their BELOVED cousin (all capitals so no one dares says otherwise) when he is released from Azkaban. She has him shaved, washed and all set in a nice London house before Dumbledore can even begin to say “unfit for taking care of an underage boy”. At six years and four months Harry leaves the Dursleys and moves with his godfather.  

 And then it’s all nice for a while until Pettigrew escapes Azkaban, meets Lucius in the continent and together bring Voldemort back. There is a war. People grow more and more afraid of Draco and he has more attempts on his life than Harry ever had. Narcissa kills Bellatrix and doesn’t even think about it.

And, one day, a young handsome gentleman with shiny black hair arrives accompanied by a sullen lanky young man with streaks of pink in his hair. Draco labels the lanky young man as the ugliest adult he has even seen. The handsome young gentleman introduces himself as Harry Potter and asks if perhaps Draco remembers him?

The burning fire inside Draco disappears. There is only hot air and ash.

The ugly lanky young man is adult Draco, of course, governed by an eight-year-old who has completely destroyed his hair.  Harry, his Harry, is just amused at Draco’s indignation that they allowed this to happen. Apparently Child Draco was a handful to deal with.

“I’m sorry it took me so long to find you,” handsome gentleman Harry says, and he is so warm and beautiful that Draco wants to cry. He doesn’t even care about how ugly is adult body is because once he is back in it Harry grabs his hands and doesn’t let go until they are back home.

[dayseternal-blog]

Who are your favorite published authors? Or any books you love to re-read?

I don't really reread published books. The only thing I've actually reread is various parts of the Bible, my favorite is 💖Colossians💖, love to reread that one hehe New International Version

But I guess published books I enjoyed as an adult/older teen were...

The Crazy Rich Asians series by Kevin Kwan - very fun and easy reads, I loved them very much, I saw the movie so many times

Kitchen by Banana Yoshimoto - a nice read, I rec it very much

The Glass Castle by Jeannette Walls - my sister rec'ed it hard, and it showed up on a Grad school assignment, so I ended up finally reading it, but yes it's very good and very sad

Mao's Last Dancer by Li Cunxin - i recommended this to all my friends and dragged my then-bf-now-husband to the movie on one of our first dates and he liked it too

Dear Girls: Intimate Tales, Untold Secrets, & Advice for Living Your Best Life by Ali Wong - her stories are kind of outrageous, but they're all engaging and memorable

Catch-22 by Joseph Heller - ok the cover is boring but it's so funny and worth every dumb minute, it's classic for a reason

Is Everyone Hanging Out Without Me? (And Other Concerns) by Mindy Kaling - Yes. It is good and the reviews describe it better than I can.

The Absolutely True Diary of a Part-Time Indian by Sherman Alexie - I was shame to say that I only read this recently. It's a book that should be required reading for every American high schooler tbh

Kafka on the Shore by Haruki Murakami - Ok, so I don't know if I understood what was going on for 50% of the time, but I liked it, and was for a short time on a Haruki Murakami kick, where I read quite a few novels of his, where I still didn't understand what was going on for 50% of the time.

Battle Royale by Koushun Takami - yah, it's crazy, and I had never read anything like it before (per my sister's recommendation). It was nuts when she gouged the guy's eyes out with her fingers. I can read this sort of thing. I can't watch it on film.

John Dies at the End by David Wong (not a Chinese dude, this is like, a white guy using a pen name) - Another rec from my sister. Actually, a bunch of the books on this list are recs from my sister. This series is crazy and absolutely cannot-put-down-until-you're-done. Not a relaxing read and very confusing and engaging.

As a child/teen, I read a lot of the classics and popular books, like the Harry Potter series, the Little House on the Prairie series, the Redwall series, The Hunger Games series, a few of the Jane Austen books, and princess-y books like A Little Princess and The Secret Garden, and The Royal Diaries series. I read a few other witch-y type series that I can't remember the name of.

Basically, the published books I read are nothing like NaruHina fanfiction,,, I don't read the romance genre (like, wait, you can get paid to write smut??). But I tend to want to read classics, books that seem like cultural phenomenon, and translations of Japanese literature. I prefer authors of color. If you have recs for me, let me know!!!!!!

[evehansenn]

upright&reversed||task001

                             9 of cups, 4 of swords, 4 of cups

Eve had been stressed out, as many students had picked up on. Her outbursts in public were not something she would normally do- not ever. She usually tried to keep them tame, internally imploding at the drop of a hat, this week had been no different. She had bitten her lip raw, her fingernails were torn to pieces, and she hadn’t showered in a while. The new semester had thrown Eve to the wolves. New professors, advanced courses, and insufferable roommates, a deadly cocktail for any student, let alone Eve. Nothing has been making sense since she came back this year. Everything was off. Why was God trying to teach her? The question always lingering in the back of her mind. Flipping through the scenarios mentally, Eve began to decompress. 

New professor: arrogant, annoying, jackass; but also handsome.

Advanced courses: stressful, never ending, unorganized; but also relieving

Insufferable roommates: arrogant, annoying, jackass; but not handsome.

She knew she needed to retreat, to withdraw from reality, even if just for a moment to collect her thoughts. She thought about home, and the smell of lilac bushes, parchment and a cold glass of milk. Comforting memories helped coax her temper, for now. Eve felt as though she had fallen into a pattern of stagnation. She wanted to indulge herself, but couldn’t figure out a way how, causing her to retreat further into her mind. Faith had always been a topic in Eve’s mind, but as of late she found her mind wandering. Perhaps she was reading one too many romance novels, or maybe she was growing restless. Eve picked up her journal, flipping open to an empty pink page.

Dear diary,

 I’ve never felt less like myself, but never more alive. Or maybe I’m simply reaching the point of the typical delusional teenage girl. How pathetic. Seriously, Eve? Ew. (its okay, i know we’re just doing our best so just hold on) Anyways, this professor seems insane, or at least a bit deranged, but he can hold a conversation so I guess it’s okay. I got all the classes I wanted, the course load is a lot but nothing I can’t handle, and my roommate is most likely a sociopath incapable of human decency.

Also, there’s a new TV premier this month, the Addams Family or whatever, it looks dumb but I’ll probably end up sucked into it.

That’s all for today, diary, unless anything else decides to interject.

Love, Eve.

[reddieao3feed]

Dear Diary: Fuck My Life

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/2URCms9

by Shipqueen21

Dear diary What the fuck am I? A pre-teen girl? Dear journal That’s fucking stupid. Fuck it, I basically am a pre-teen girl at this point who the fuck else would be writing all this gross shit down Dear diary, Why the fuck am I like this? -- Or: Richie gets a diary, Eddie gets a girlfriend, and everything turns to shit.

Words: 13297, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Fandoms: IT - Stephen King, IT (Movies - Muschietti)

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: M/M

Characters: Richie Tozier, Eddie Kaspbrak, Stanley Uris, Beverly Marsh, Ben Hanscom, Mike Hanlon, Bill Denbrough, Original Female Character(s)

Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier, Eddie Kaspbrak & Richie Tozier, Eddie Kaspbrak/Original Female Character(s)

Additional Tags: Coming Out, Diary/Journal, Internalized Homophobia, Getting Together, First Kiss, Aged-Up Character(s), High School, Stargazing, teenagers in love, teenagers being dumb, Underage Drinking, Pining, Mutual Pining, Jealousy

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/2URCms9

[ddeserteagle]

Wanna hear a funny story?

I LOVE seeing dumb-ass comments on the Internet! I wanna share one with you! ^^ 

So. This fantastic piece of art comes from a Russian-speaking DBH community on diary[ru]. Somebody wrote a pretty big comment about why explicit convin fanfics are WRONG and us shippers know nothing about real life.

Should you, my dear readers, happen to understand Russian, I’m posting a screenshot of my favourite part of the comment below. For the rest of you, here’s a translation:

“Who is Connor, in your opinion? An android-detective, who does the following:

- engages in inappropriate intercourse with his fellow police officers

- doesn’t report to the chief immediately after the violation (such concealment is a violation in itself)

To top it off, Connor, being a Cyberlife property, has been used by the officer who has nothing to do with Cyberlife. This is a direct violation of law by both Reed and Connor, according to the Order of Russian Ministry of the Interior (yes, you read it right LMAO!!) d.d. December 24th, 2008 No. 1138 “About approval of Code of Professional Ethics of the Internal Affairs Officer in Russian Federation”. (WTF?!) 

Because it is immoral. And in America, they have tougher attitudes towards sexual promiscuity, they are more religious than we are. Reed would be locked up, no less.”

*wheezes* I AM DYING HERE LMAO

[that-witch-bastard]

The sound of silence

A Bucky Barnes fanfiction

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

Warnings: PTSD, the death of a minor character (one I made up), fluff, some swear words

Word count: 1407 (or so says Word)

A/N: Hey, you guys! This is my first fic, so please be understanding.

A girl joins the Avengers through the Stark internship. She goes on her first mission with Bucky, but something goes wrong. Afterwards, she has severe PTSD, due to which, she can’t talk. Tony builds a special device to help her. But Bucky can do more than that. He can actually cure her.

Diary entries are written in italics.

The first day. Your first day at the Stark internship. You were nervous as hell but also excited as hell. When you got the email saying that you, Y/N Y/L/N, were chosen to work on some new equipment for the Avengers, you were beyond happy. You’ve always dreamed about learning from Tony Stark, the brightest mind currently alive. 

You were amazingly intelligent and were always bored in class. That’s why you dropped out of college. because of that, you never really expected to be accepted into the internship. Well, you thought, apparently Tony Stark could see through your facade. You smirked.

As you walked into the Avengers tower a friendly voice welcomed you at the empty reception desk.

- Hello Ms Y/N. My name is F.R.I.D.A.Y. and I’ve been instructed to lead you upstairs to meet Mr Stark and the rest of your team.

- The rest of the interns, right? How many more of us are there, FRIDAY? Can I call you FRIDAY?

- Certainly, Ms Y/N. I feel obliged to correct you. There are no more interns. When I said you were to meet your team, I meant the Avengers. You were chosen to join the Avengers initiative.

You were dumbstruck. What the hell was going on? The Avengers? You never even dreamed of meeting them in person. You were even more terrified now. 

- Shall we? - asked FRIDAY

you really weren’t going to argue. You followed FRIDAY’s directions. When you stepped off the lift into the open plan living room, you were greeted by a crowd of people. Tony Stark, Bruce Banner, Natasha Romanoff, Clint Barton, Thor Odinson, Wanda Maximoff, Vision... and James Buchanan Barnes. Names and faces you’ve only seen on television. Until now.

- Hello - said Tony, shaking your hand. - You must be surprised. I’m not sorry, I do love a touch of drama. I’ll keep it brief. There is no internship, although your resume was quite impressive. That’s why I cancelled the internship and chose you to be the new addition to our team. And before you say anything - you can let go of my hand now.

You did.

- And, we know. Everything. 

- Surely, you can’t know everything - you said.

- You mean we can’t know how your last seven, was it, boyfriends were total wanks? Or that you put on a mask and sneak out every night to beat the shit out of petty criminals? - said Bucky with a knowing grin.

-... - your face must have been hilarious because Clint and Wanda started laughing their faces off.

- Welcome to the team, Y/N - said Natasha.

You were officially accepted. 

Dammit, I feel good!

I’ve been an Avenger for a month now and I love it! Everybody is so friendly. I’ve made friends with Nat and Wanda, we’re BFFs now. I love it so much! I’ve been training every day, both physically and mentally.

 In the morning Bucky and Steve are killing me in the gym. Nat helps them, sometimes, In the afternoons, I go to the lab with Tony and Bruce to work on new weapons and tech. I can’t say anything about it ;)

 Everybody has warmed up to me quickly, I’m really surprised. Well, almost everyone. Only Bucky remains cold. He barely talks to me and leaves the room whenever I arrive. Except for the gym. He can get really scary sometimes. His eyes say everything he’s keeping inside. the pain, anger, sadness, fear. Mostly fear. I can’t get through to him. I talk to him almost all the time during our sessions, I can’t help it, that’s just what I do.

Once, after a particularly tiring training session, he came up to me, bare-chested, in the gym. I was freaking excited to have him so close. He pressed me up against the wall, leaned over and whispered in my ear - Do you have any idea what I want to do to you?

And then he left. After that, I realized just how attracted to him I was. I didn’t know what he meant - did he want to kill me or f*ck me? 

I’m leaving on my first mission tomorrow. Bucky and I are supposed to storm the last remaining Hydra base in the US. It’s a two-day job - get in, plant the bomb and get out. 

I’ll finish writing when we get back.

Blood. Screaming. Fear. Pain.

Hospital lights?

You woke up in the infirmary. What the hell happened on that mission? You feel somebody caressing your hand. Your eyelids fluttered open. You saw someone hovering above you. Long, brown hair, blue eyes. Bucky. Why was he there, of all people? You wanted to ask him that, and about a million other questions, but you couldn’t. 

You’ve lost your voice.

Bucky’s face had a knowing expression written all over it. Of course, he knew. He did something quite extraordinary - he kissed your forehead.

- It’s gonna be fine, doll. Don’t worry. Tony’s already working on it.

Dear diary

I can't believe I fucked up so bad. My first mission was an utter disaster. My stupidity got a man killed. 

Bucky said not to worry, but PTSD ain’t no picnic. I can’t say anything. It’s not a secret or anything, I just can’t bring myself to talking. I am unable to force my voice strings to quiver. I killed him. I am a killer. A dumb killer at that. 

Tony tried to help, being a sweetheart. He made me a special kind of Band-Aid to wear on my neck. Supposedly, it’s gonna make me talk. I’ve never tried. I don’t know why. I just can’t.

It sucks.

Y/N was huddled in her bed, wearing her favourite hoodie. She hadn’t moved for two days. Didn’t eat, didn’t shower, didn’t even sleep. The only thing she did was cry. She cried because it was the only thing she could do. 

The team was worried, but nobody wanted to interrupt Y/N. She has to process her grief on her own. They’ve all been through something similar at one point. Nobody as many times as Bucky, though. 

He didn’t want the others to see it, but he cared about Y/N. He wanted to hear her laugh again. He missed her voice. He only appreciated it now that it was gone. He couldn’t stand the thought of her bearing those feelings on her own.

“Fuck it” - he thought. He rose from the couch he had been sitting on, pretending to watch a film. He walked down the corridor and stood outside Y/N’s room. He took a deep breath and knocked on the door softly.

She didn’t answer.

He didn’t really expect her to. He only knocked on the door to let her know he was there. He opened the door. Behind it, he saw a cosy room. There were books scattered all over it. 

And on the king-sized bed, he saw Y/N, huddled under her fleece blanket. She looked terrible, but that thought never crossed his mind. She was the most beautiful creature in the world.

-Hey, doll. How you doing?

Silence. She opened her eye.

Bucky came u to her bed and sat on the edge. He ran his flesh fingers through her hair.

- Can I lie here with you? - he asked.

She nodded. He half-sat against the headboard. She rolled over and rested her head in the crook of his neck. God, he smelled amazing. He wrapped his right arm around her, pulling her even closer. He traced her jaw with his metal hand. She loved it. 

- I`m so sorry, doll. I know I`ve been awful to you and I apologize. Truth is, I like you, Y/N. And I`m here for you. I know it can be rough. Trust me, I`ve been there. It`s gonna get better, love. Just give it time. Remember, I`m here to support you. Take all the time you need. I`ll be here. 

She hugged him tighter, tears in her eyes.

He wanted to tell her so much more. He couldn`t find the right words to express his feelings. Or maybe he could. He gathered courage and said:

- I love you, Y/N.

- Bucky... - she whispered against his neck. For the first time in weeks, she felt more or less fine. She knew she would be ok in the end. She would be with Bucky. Her Bucky.