#listen the book is great in english but that gives too many white straight girls to feteshize their relationship

[pretentious-clownery]

i would literally sell my soul to whatever demon like god there is to have a greek movie made on the song of achilles

[chaeryybomb]

BRUTAL

pairings: female reader x best friend!jungwon

summary: they told you that these were the golden years, but to you "golden" was a rusting metal spray painted yellow. the story of a seventeen year old trying to survive high school when all you do is try your best. but your best friend jungwon makes it worth the while. 

genre: high school au, friends to lovers, fluff, tiny bits of angst if you squint, attempt at humour

featuring: jang wonyoung, kim sunoo & nishimura riki 

word count: 4.5k 

warnings: reader having a existential crisis most of the time, strong language, mentions of insecurity

the sour series masterlist

You slumped forward the moment the bell rang, letting your head hit the table. You could care less if a bruise would form on your forehead, you had much bigger things to worry about. Your teacher left the class wordlessly as the class was busy doing their own thing. And by that, everyone was buried nose deep in studying. You lifted your head to see the different books of the same topic scattered on your desk, a yellow highlighter balancing on the edge of your table.

Reaching over to grab the highlighter, you turned your head over to the side to look at your desk mate. Wonyoung sat there looking straight out from a k-drama, with her hair flowing down her back perfectly and her slender nimble fingers moving as she continuously wrote in her notebook. She was smart too, fluent in English and Korean, great at maths and science. And on top of that she was kind and friendly, everyone loved her. You did too, you had the honour of calling her your best friend. But sometimes you felt insecure around her, everything she did looked flawless and there you were just trying your best.

"Ack!" You yelped as you sat up straight, holding your forehead. Wonyoung rolled her eyes at you with a small smile on her lips, she had flicked your forehead to get you out of your thoughts.

Without taking her eyes off the textbook, she tapped your own workbook with her pen. Silently telling you to stop procrastinating. You pouted at her and looked at the clock, 10 minutes before lunch. Maybe a walk to the girl's bathroom would do you some good.

"I'm gonna go to the bathroom," you whispered to Wonyoung. She nodded and smiled at you before you walked out.

As you strolled towards the girl's bathroom, you passed by the bulletin board outside your class. A bright blue poster stood out with the words "ENJOY YOUR YOUTH" in white. Scoffing at the message, you continued on your way.

"I'm seventeen now, where's my fucking teenage dream?" You muttered to yourself. You were tired of waiting for your life to end up like a coming of age movie. Everyone told you that these were the golden years and you should enjoy your youth, but you swear to god if you hear another one of those cheesy sayings, you might just cry on the spot.

Reaching over to open the stall door, you halt in your actions when you heard familiar voices talking.

"I'm so worried for finals, my parents are gonna kill me if I fail English again," a girl complained. You hear the sound of tap water running. "How are you so calm during this time, Mirae?'

"What's the use of studying hard anyways," the second girl, Mirae, said. "We all know the top spots are gonna be taken by Jang Wonyoung and Yang Jungwon, I just study enough to pass."

The other girl snorted at her reply. "Imagine if those two got together, the power couple of the year," she suddenly said.

"Poor Y/N then, she's gonna be over shadowed by them."

"As if she already isn't. I almost forgot they were a trio until you mentioned Y/N," the girl laughed.

"What can I say? They're out of her league," Mirae joined in with her laughter.

The two voices faded away as you heard the door closed. Finally pushing the door open, you looked at your reflection. Your eyebrows knitted in annoyance and your face was morphed in a scowl. You washed your hands aggressively and poked the inside of your cheek. What bugged you was that they were right. You were the black sheep between Wonyoung and Jungwon. Both of them were smart and amazing, and you're just…you.

You love your best friends, you truly do. But you were constantly compared to them and you hated it. Everyone wanted them, you watched as guys tripped over to confess to Wonyoung and girls squealing when Jungwon smiled at them. The two of them always reassured you that you weren't beneath them but you were sick of their sympathy. You're so caught up in the news of who likes you and who hates them. You just wished people liked you more.

Storming out of the bathroom, someone accidentally ran into you and caused you to fell onto your butt. The student immediately stood up and scurried off, not bothering to even a mutter an apology. All I did was try my best and this is the thanks I get, you thought bitterly.

They said that these were the golden years, but you wished you could just disappear. God, it's brutal out here.

"Y/N, wait up!" Jungwon called after you.

You stopped in your tracks as you watched Jungwon waved goodbye to some students before jogging towards you.

"You heading to cram school today?" He asked you as the both of you fell into the same walking rhythm.

You shook your head, clasping your hands behind. "I moved it to Thursday instead, Wonyoung said I had to many things on Tuesday," you told him. Originally, you would be heading to the library to study before heading over to the cram school. But Wonyoung took one look at your schedule and decided that you did not had enough breaks, so she managed to convince you to take the Thursday slot instead. Thursdays are one of the days where you would not go to the library.

Jungwon seemed to be disappointed to find out that you had switched slots. Maybe he should changed slots too, but does he have any empty spots open for Thursday though? He'd have to check later. Instead, he coughed and stuffed his hands into his pockets.

"Do you wanna come over later? The new Demon Slayer movie is out," he offered, hoping that you'd accept.

Unfortunately, you once again shook your head. "Sorry Jungwon, I'd want to cram even more later. Finals are really creeping in and I can't afford to waste any time," you told him with a sad smile. As much as you would like to ditch the books and watch Demon Slayer, the glaring C on your last history paper was telling you otherwise.

You stopped walking when you had reached your doorstep. "Thanks for walking me home, Jungwon. See you tomorrow!" and with that you disappeared behind the door.

Jungwon waved goodbye as he watched the door closed. The smile on his face dropped and his shoulder sagged. Jungwon you idiot, of course she would want to study, he scolded himself. With disappointment on his face, he trudged home with a heavy heart.

"Change of plans, guys," he announced as he swung the front door open, unfazed by the fact that Riki and Sunoo were lounging on his coach. He accepted the fact that Sunoo had somehow gotten the keys to his house (suspecting that his mother probably gave it to him due to favouritism or maybe Riki had sneakily made a copy).

Riki's head poked out from the couch. "She rejected you, didn't she," the younger boy said with a smirk.

Jungwon's face ears turned red as he glared at the boy. "No she did not!" He immediately told him. "She rejected the offer to watch the movie, that's different!"

"That's basically rejection, hyung," Riki laughed.

The other boy just glared at him. "Shut up!" he sputtered out before hiking up the stairs.

Sunoo gave Riki a look, to which the Japanese boy just shrugged his shoulders innocently.

Jungwon walked out from the shower, a towel around his neck with one hand running through his damp hair. Sunoo and Riki had left earlier, finally giving him some peace and quiet. His phone screen was flashing from his study table, initiating that someone was spamming him (quite aggressively) with text message. With a raised eyebrow, he picked up his phone

[7:09 pm] wonyoung: JUNGWON

[7:09 pm] wonyoung: JUNGWON

[7:09 pm] wonyoung: JUNGWON

[7:10 pm] wonyoung: WHY DID Y/N JUST MESSAGED ME ABOUT HOMEWORK

[7:10 pm] wonyoung: ISNT SHE WITH YOU

[7:11 pm] wonyoung: I THOUGHT YOU SAID U WERE GONNA WATCH A MOVIE

[7:11 pm] wonyoung: DEMON HUNTER OR SMTG

[7:12 pm] wonyoung: WHY IS SHE ASKING ME FOR HW

[7:12 pm] wonyoung: DID U CHICKEN OUT???

[7:13 pm] wonyoung: omg u chickened out didnt u

[7:14 pm] jungwon: jfc wonyoung

[7:15 pm] jungwon: and no i did not chicken out okay

[7:15 pm] jungwon: she declined

[7:16 pm] jungwon: she said she had to study ;-;

[7:17 pm] wonyoung: omg u suck

[7:17 pm] wonyoung: i told u the movie idea was dumb

[7:18 pm] wonyoung: but do u ever listen to me

[7:18 pm] wonyoung: no

[7:19 pm] wonyoung: and now u suffer the consequences

[7:20 pm] jungwon: yea yea i get it im dumb

[7:20 pm] jungwon: now what's ur solution the great jang wonyoung

[7:21 pm] wonyoung: i am so glad u asked :)

[7:21 pm] jungwon: oh no

[7:21 pm] wonyoung: stfu im giving u a better idea

[7:22 pm] wonyoung: a n y w a y s

[7:22 pm] wonyoung: my ynradar is going off and she's s a d

[7:23 pm] jungwon: how would u know

[7:23 pm] jungwon: she seemed fine today

[7:23 pm] wonyoung: stfu jungwon its best friend things u wont understand

[7:24 pm] jungwon: i-

[7:25 pm] wonyoung: and as her future bf u SHOULD start to train ur ynradar

[7:25 pm] wonyoung: anw its exam season stoopid

[7:26 pm] wonyoung: and its when those kids start to talk abt how the both of us are gonna get top scores

[7:26 pm] wonyoung: and they talk down on y/n while doing so

[7:26 pm] wonyoung: assholes

[7:27 pm] wonyoung: so i propose to u

[7:27 pm] wonyoung: a ✨ study date ✨

[7:28 pm] jungwon: i

[7:29 pm] jungwon: that's

[7:29 pm] jungwon: actually not a bad idea

[7:30 pm] wonyoung: obv i came up with it

[7:31 pm] jungwon: can u not

[7:31 pm] wonyoung: anw a study date

[7:32 pm] wonyoung: she's struggling in maths

[7:33 pm] wonyoung: specifically taxes because she said and i quote

[7:34 pm] wonyoung: "why do we have to do taxes when we pay people to do it for us"

[7:34 pm] wonyoung: so pls help her and try to cheer her up

[7:35 pm] wonyoung: and confess coward

[7:36 pm] jungwon: i make no promises for the last one

[7:36 pm] wonyoung: aFTER EVERYTHING I JUST SAID

[7:37 pm] jungwon: what if she rejects me wonyoung

[7:38 pm] wonyoung: WE'VE HAD THIS CONVERSATION A LOT OF TIMES JUNGWON

[7:38 pm] wonyoung: SHE LIKES U BUT SHES TOO DUMB TO REALISE

[7:39 pm] jungwon: sigh

[7:40 pm] jungwon: fine i'll try thanks wonyoung

[7:41 pm] wonyoung: np i expect y'all to be a couple by next monday <3

[7:41 pm] jungwon: i-

Sighing for the nth time of the night, Jungwon sat on his bed. He allowed the towel to slipped off his shoulders as his thumb hovered over your chat icon. Truth be told, he always thought his crush on you was unrequited love. You never showed any signs of returning of feelings so he thought he would just ignore the feeling until it was gone.

But oh boy was he wrong, because he didn't knew that he would be spending his high school years by your side. And now you occupy his mind 24/7. Wonyoung could literally tell that he was in love with you, but somehow you never caught on. He allowed Sunoo and Riki to convince him to do the whole "movie date idea", but that failed. So Wonyoung's suggestion was his only option left.

He typed out the message, ready to send it out. If only he could just press the button. Come on Yang Jungwon, you can do this. Just press the damn button Jungwon. Suddenly his phone pinged loudly, scaring the lights out of the poor boy as he yelped and his phone landed with a thud on the ground. He peered over his bed, as if his phone was a ticking bomb.

Oh, it was a message from you.

[8:01 pm] y/n: hey do u know where wonyoung is

[8:01 pm] y/n: she isn't answering my texts

Oh no. He realised that your chat was open, the two ticks indicated that he had (unintentionally) read the message. He couldn't just leave you on read. That's just evil. Scrambling to get his phone, he immediately typed a reply to cover for the other girl.

[8:02 pm] jungwon: sorry i don't :/

[8:02 pm] jungwon: what do u need her for

[8:03 pm] y/n: mf was supposed to teach me a maths question but she left me on rEAD

This was his chance! It was the perfect opportunity for him to score a date with you. Okay, breathe in breath out Jungwon. Don't mess it up and just ask her, he mentally prepared himself.

[8:04 pm] jungwon: oh i could help you if you want

[8:04 pm] jungwon: yk with finals coming up and everything, i can help you study

[8:05 pm] jungwon: if you want of course

[8:05 pm] y/n: omg srsly??

[8:06 pm] jungwon: pls help me study my braincells are literally dying

[8:07 pm] jungwon: jdsjkda okay how about this saturday at your place?

[8:08 pm] y/n: yeah sure

[8:08 pm] jungwon: cool its a date then!

You blinked at Jungwon's message. A date? Wait, did Yang Jungwon just indirectly asked you out? Nah, nah. You were overthinking it. Yes, definitely overthinking. Don't kid yourself, why would Jungwon ask you out on a date? Jungwon is just a friend, you tried to convince yourself.

Keyword: tried.

If he really was just a friend, then why did it felt like butterflies were in your stomach when he said "it was a date"? Then why did you frowned when those girls said that Wonyoung and Jungwon would make a good couple?

Oh god, do you have feelings for your best friend?

Saturday came faster than you would have liked it to. Ever since that last chat with Jungwon, it gave you the sudden realisation that you did in fact had feelings for your best friend. You tried so hard to avoid him in school because you don't want the butterflies back in your stomach. It was basically confirming the fact that you like him. Well, avoiding him also confirmed the fact but you choose to be in denial about it.

You didn't tell Wonyoung about your study date but lately she's been sending you outfit ideas on Pinterest. Specifically, date outftis. And whenever you tried to ask her a question about school, she brushed you off with a random excuse. So it left you no choice but to save those questions for Jungwon.

Speaking of Jungwon, he had texted you 10 minutes ago that he was on the way. You were standing in the middle of your room with your hands on your hips. Both of your parents were out for the day, which left you alone at home. You had taken out the low table to be used later and it was currently in front of you. Colourful workbooks were neatly stacked on top of it.

You did a 360 turn around your room. Was it messy? You cleaned it this morning when you woke up. Did you had any clothes out? No, doesn't look like it. For some reason, you were a nervous wreck. You blamed Jungwon. He just had to call this a date, didn't he.

Should you change? Maybe you should finally look through all those pins Wonyoung sent. Wait, no, why would you have to change into something nice. Jungwon was here to help you study, just that.

Yeah, a study date, your mind emphasised on the word.

The sound of the doorbell pulled you out from your thoughts. You immediately went to open the door. Yang Jungwon stood there on the other side, with his signature smile. Had he always resembled a sheep? He just looked so fluffy.

"Hey!" You greeted him with a smile, internally wincing at your way-too-enthusiastic voice.

But Jungwon didn't seem to mind it. "Hey!" he greeted back.

You moved to the side to let him in. "Thank you for having me," he said as he bowed then proceeded to remove his shoes.

"Uh, do you want anything? Water?" You asked him.

He shook his head.

"Ah, cool. Let's head to my room," you started to walk back to your room.

"Where are your parents?" He asked.

"Out," you simply replied.

That was when it dawned upon you, that your parents were not home. Leaving you and Jungwon, alone. Together. In your room. Alone. With the boy you potentially have a crush on.

"Y/N?" Jungwon tapped on your shoulder. You had stopped walking when you were suddenly washed over by your thoughts. Snapping out of it, you sent him a small smile before opening the room to your door.

The both of you shuffled into your bedroom, you sat down in front of the low table while Jungwon settled down next to you. He moved to take out his books then turned to you. "How about we do some studying and if you have any questions, you can ask me okay?" He said.

You nodded and flipped your own workbook open, immediately starting to work on the first question. Jungwon copied your action and a comfortable silence engulfed the both of you. As the time passed, you found yourself stuck on a certain maths question.

You slightly turned your head to the side to look at Jungwon. He was concentrated at doing his work, you felt a sense of deja vu while looking at him. He resembled Wonyoung when she was studying. At the thought of Wonyoung, you suddenly thought of what those girls said at the bathroom.

They would make a good couple, wouldn't they, you thought. The power couple of the year.

The butterflies in your stomach faded away into an uncomfortable feeling. Just the idea of them getting together already made you sick. You bit the inside of your cheek, you really did had feelings for him. And now it scared you because what if he doesn't feel the same. You made a mental note to consult with Wonyoung later, at least you hope that you'll allow yourself to tell her.

Jungwon must've noticed you staring and gently tapped your head with his pencil. A contrast to when Wonyoung painfully flicked your forehead.

"What's wrong? Are you stuck on a question?" He asked.

You leaned back a bit at the sudden action. You were so deep in your insecurities that you had totally forgotten about the literal problem sitting in front of you. Yet you couldn't even bother to ask him so you just shook your head. "I'm gonna get something to drink," you said instead.

Jungwon watched as you stood up, then decided to follow you as well. "I'll come along."

The boy joined you in the kitchen, perched on one of the island stools as you grabbed a can of soda from the fridge. He studied your movement as you worked around the kitchen. Your features were neutral, you weren't smiling nor frowning. But he could tell that your shoulders were tensed. Wonyoung was right, you did seem down. And he cursed himself for not noticing earlier.

"You okay?" His question made you stopped in a mid-pour stance, the can of soda was tilted but not enough for the contents to be poured out.

You brushed his question off and poured the drink into the cup. "Yeah," you hummed.

Unconvinced by your answer, he pried more. "You know you shouldn't care about what they say, right?"

You furrowed your eyebrows at him, pretending like you didn't understand where he was coming from.

"You're not below us, you know that right?"

You couldn't help but scoffed at his words. Jungwon's lips tugged downwards "I'm being serious here, Y/N," his tone was stern. "You shouldn't listen to what they say. You're more than just-"

The sound of the can being slammed down shuts him up. Your fingers tightened around the can as you looked at him. You didn't had the energy to hear him preach the same old "Don't Listen To Them" speech. You don't need his pity.

"I don't want to hear it, Yang Jungwon," you said through gritted teeth. Not sparing him another glance, you threw the empty can into the trash as you grabbed your glass.

As you walked past Jungwon, he suddenly reached out and held onto your forearm. "Y/N," he said softly. "Please tell me what's wrong."

You sighed and slowly turn around to face him, placing the glass back on the counter. You took in a deep breath before you opened your mouth. "I feel like I'm not enough," you finally said. "Everything I do just doesn't seem enough. All I'm doing is my best but it's just crushing my ego because everyone is telling me that you're better than me."

"I feel like no one wants me and I hate the way I'm perceived. It's always poor Y/N this and poor Y/N that's because everyone just sees me as your shadow and I fucking hate it. I only have two real friends," you gestured wildly. "And lately I'm a nervous wreck cause I keep comparing myself to the two of you. I'm not cool and I'm not smart, and I can't even parallel park!" You threw your hands up in frustration, the feelings you kept inside were pouring out like a waterfall.

Jungwon just stood there as he listened tentatively to every word. He didn't knew that you felt this way, bottling up all your emotions like that.

"And I'm so tired of people telling me to enjoy my youth and that these are the golden years. I might just fucking cry if I hear those words again," you finished ranting. It felt good, it felt like a weight on your heart has been lifted. Then you remembered that you just dumped all of it on Jungwon.

You opened your mouth to apologise to him but he surprised you by pulling him into his arms. At first you were standing stiffly at the sudden contact, but it took a millisecond for you to melt in his embrace. His arms were gently around your back and you returned the hug by wrapping your arms around his torso. The two of you stay in that position for awhile, relishing in each other's embrace. You definitely needed this hug.

Tightening your hold on Jungwon, you realised how important he was to you. He was your best friend and he was always there for you. It was stupid of you to compare yourself to him, when all he did was tried his best for you. The taller boy chuckled when he felt you rubbed your face into his shoulder, he involuntarily released a contented sigh. You felt one of his hands stroked your hair, it felt comforting. That action itself was enough for the butterflies to slowly settled back in you.

After a while, both of you finally (unwillingly) released each other. He pushed a strand of hair behind your ears and said, "You're wrong by the way." Which made you tilt your head in genuine confusion.

"You are cool and you are smart. You're like the coolest person I know. And no one thinks of you as our shadow, you don't hear it but I've always hear the juniors praising you for helping them and how enthusiastic you are," the way he delivered his words was filled with pure awe for you.

"And who cares if you can't parallel park. You didn't hear it from but Jay hyung failed his drivers test three times just because he couldn't parallel park," and that got a laugh out from you. Jungwon smiled proudly that he managed to make you laugh. "And you're wrong when you said no one wants you. I want you."

You blinked once, twice and thrice. He wanted you? "You're just saying that cause you're my best friend," you replied.

"No," he firmly said. "I like you, Y/N."

(Jungwon doesn't know where he got this sudden surge of confidence, but the mood was the perfect time for him to confess. It was a one time chance and he had to take it.)

You chuckled. "I like you too, Jungwon. We are friends aren't we?"

"No, Y/N. I like you. More than friends."

"Oh." Oh.

"Yeah," he scratched the back of neck awkwardly. Oh no, did you not feel the same way?

While you on the other hand, were malfunctioning on the inside. Your best friend just confessed to you and you were frozen on the spot. Why couldn't he had done it over text instead. If he had done it over text, then you could've left the message unread and you could've spammed Wonyoung for help. But the thing is that it wasn't over text and you couldn't just tell him to wait here while you panicked to Wonyoung in your bathroom.

Yang Jungwon likes you. And you like him too, right? Because if you didn't, your cheeks won't be heating up right now and your heart would have not be beating rapidly like it was going to break your rib cage any second. If you didn't like him, there would have never been butterflies in your stomach. Yeah. You like Yang Jungwon, you like him a lot.

"Me too," you whispered, it was soft but it was enough for him to pick it up. Jungwon eyes snapped to you, doe eyed filled with hope. "I like you, too," you said, this time louder. And you made sure you looked him in the eye when you confessed.

You watched as Jungwon's mouth morphed into a big grin. He let out a sigh of relief and dropped to his knees, surprising you. "Jungwon!" you squeaked, bending down to help him.

"I'm fine! I'm fine," he assured you as he stood up with your help. The grin on his face was still there. "It's just that … you like me," he breathed out. "You like me back, wow. I-I can't believe it."

Your face was definitely burning with embarrassment. You punched him lightly on the shoulder, turning away to hide your face. "Believe it, you dork. I like you, okay!" Somehow his grin was able to grew wider at your words, Gently, he took your hand in his.

"How about we stop this study date, and I'll take you out on real date?"

© chaeryybomb 2021

a/n: thank you so much for reading this <3

[p---ink]

Teach Me.

Author’s Note: So. I finally made a Peter Parker Fiction. And I know the gif is Arvin Russell, but that is for a reason, and maybe you'll see it, maybe you won't, BUT TELL ME IF YOU DO. So this is an unnamed OC fiction, but its mostly reader insert, aside from the fact that she’s black (surprise, surprise) and she has brown eyes. I made her an “OC” because of that fact. Also, get ready for some fluffy head cannons of Peter P. In the not-so-distant future though. 

Summary: Maybe Peter Parker, isn't as innocent as he seems. 

Warnings: Smut. Smut. and more Smut. Car-smut. Dark-ish Peter (Not really, but he’s not his usual wholesome self) 

Song: Star-gazing by The Neighborhood. I literally based this entire fiction on this one song. Even if you don’t read the fic, you should listen to it. 

Word Count: 5.5k

“If you don’t mind me asking,” She started, pausing a bit to give him time to look up at her, “ who brings a textbook to a frat party?”

His heart stopped for a moment when he realized who was speaking to him. But then he matched her grin shyly and replied, “It’s more of a conversation starter than anything.” 

“Would you say its been working well?”

“I did somehow manage to get someone as pretty as you to speak to me.” 

The smile that was already plastered on her face, grew wider along with her eyes and brows. “Wow Parker: Who knew you could be so bold after a few drinks?

“I’ve only had one, so the rest is all me.” He closed his book and readjusted his leg inviting her to sit. Then as if just realizing, he asked, “You know who I am?”

“Of course I know who you are. We went to Midtown together.” She said, getting comfortable on the couch. 

“Yeah I know. But we barely spoke to each other. Sometimes I wondered if you even knew I existed.”

“I always kept tabs on cuties like you. Especially you, actually.” She declared. 

“And you call me bold.” He muttered under his breath, a small blush creeping up.

“I’m always like this. Anyone who knows me, can tell you that. But anyone who knows you, would say the opposite. You were always so good.” 

“Good?”

“Yes! Good. Innocent. Nice. Whatever floats your boat.”

“And I remember you being, bossy, assertive, and intimidating.”

She threw her head back in laughter before stating,“You say that like its a bad thing.” Coming down from her fits of giggles she adds, “You noticed me, too? Never thought I was on your radar.”

“How could anyone not notice you.” He asked. “We had English together our freshman year. First day of class, you challenged Mr. Frechowsky, for inflicting his political views on the rest of the class. He got so red in the face, after yelling at you for three minutes straight, but everyone was more shocked at you for being unfazed.”

“I forgot abou-”

“Sophomore year, you “accidentally” tripped Amy Shuemacker,  after she made a rude comment about Ned’s weight. Junior year, you announced that you wanted to be not only the first female president, but the first who was black too. I remember telling myself you’d have my vote. Senior year, you almost had a mental breakdown when it looked like Michelle Obama was gonna run.” Peter finished, with not a hint that he was out of breath. 

“I-” She was more than taken aback. “I’m embarrassed that you remember all of that. Its been like four years since we graduated. Frankly any other person would have forgotten.”

“I think its impossible for anyone who’s met you, to forget the day they did.” He admitted to her. 

She just stared at him in awe for a moment. Mouth slightly agape from surprise. A shadow of a smile ever so present. 

Even though he was the one to say it, it was his face that turned a tinge pinker than before when he realized the weight behind his words. He swallowed thickly, averting his attention to the patterns that lined the carpet, fearing that he made her uncomfortable. In all honesty, he used to have a proper crush on the girl, rivaled by even Romeo’s adoration for Juliet.

This was the same girl he once described as ethereal. He once told Ned that fairies wove the strands of her hair, and butterflies still lived there, claiming that he saw them playing beneath her braids. The sun literally lived under her skin, and it was the secret as to why it would glow, and why her smile was so bright. He would swear to anyone that listened, that the harp was made with her voice in mind, and that it, her voice, played a better melody. He used to be lovestruck. Guess those feelings still lingered. 

If you asked him, two minutes ago had he gotten over it, his answer would’ve been yes. Would’ve been. 

His sudden fluster—which she found adorable by the way, broke her from her trance as she grinned and said “Don’t act bashful now!” playfully shoving his arm as she uttered the words. 

Quickly recovering from his earlier hiccup, he slowly returned her grin and tried to retaliate but before he could, “We have to go. Now.”

They looked up to see an irritated looking preppy girl impatiently scowling down at them. She couldn’t have been much older than 21, but no one told that to her clothes and aura. Her olive skin couldn’t hide the frown lines that had been assigned to her, nor the bags that would put a raccoon to shame. Besides the current circumstances that she would tell them in the next minute, Peter could tell on his own that the girl needed a date with sleep. 

“What’s the matter Li? Is everything okay?”

“Yes, aside from the fact that Angie locked herself out of the apartment again.” She said sarcastically, muttering this last part under her breath “I swear I’ve had it with that girl.”

“Ah I see. Well then we better get going.” The girl affirmed, standing from her seat, making Peter rise from his. “Peter it was so nice seeing you. I hate to leave, I would’ve enjoyed catching up a bit more.” She said, turning to grab her coat. 

“Well then we should catch up soon.”

She turned to nod her head, seemingly interested in his suggestion. “I’d love that. When did you have in mind?”

“How about now? if its a ride you’re looking for, I can drive you home.” Peter’s inner sixteen year old self, screamed at this opportunity. Time alone, with his four-year crush? He couldn’t not take advantage of the moment. 

“I couldn’t ask you to do that. It’s all the way on the other side of town.” She informed him. 

“But you’re not asking me to do it. I’m offering, because, ‘ya know; I haven’t seen you in a while and I’d like to catch up, too.” He said, second-guessing himself and praying that he didn’t come on too strong. “Ya know. Only if you want to.” He added just in case. 

Taking too much time debating whether or not she should say yes, the girl’s friend did it for her.  “Sounds great! I’ll see you at home.” Spinning on her heels,  and walking out of the door.

“Well.” The girl started, smiling at her old schoolmate. “I guess that settles it.”

“Shit!” He cursed, killing the engine completely, and slamming his head back on the headrest. After a couple minutes of trying to get it to start, the boy gave up like his car did.

It had been a full three hours since  Alisha left the party. The time was spent competing about who could find out more about the other. He learned that she still had a thirst for changing the world and community around her. She learned that the boy had been bitten by a radioactive spider and was now New York’s most friendly vigilante. She never knew that Peter could be so hilarious. 

They were stranded on some back road, miles away from civilization, with rain coming down on the roof of the car like they owed it money.

“Peter, what did you expect?” She began to question, giggling as she spoke. “This car is so old, Fred Flintstone has a newer model.”

“Hey!” He cried, “Don’t badmouth Karen. She just needs a little work.”

“You mean a lot of work. Karen is ancient.”

“She’s been good to me.”

“Should I call Triple A?” She asked, ignoring his dramatics. “The rain will probably let up by the time they get here.”

“I’ve got this.” He sighed, readying himself to leave the car. “Besides, triple A doesn’t know Karen like I do. They won’t be able to give her the love and patience she deserves” He explained, the car’s rickety door sounding as he disappeared into the rain. 

She heard that same distinct sound not ten seconds later, as he reappeared, soaking wet from the rain’s onslaught. His white t-shirt clung to his body, while beads of water raced down his skin. His messy locks, traded their dark brown hue for a jet black one, and his dirty converses shone a little brighter than they did before he left the car. 

“Maybe that wasn’t the best idea.” He admitted, the leather making a squelching noise as he glued himself back to his previous seat. 

“The offer for triple A still stands.”

“No. I’ll let this play out. But maybe I can call you an Uber.”

“There’s no way I’m leaving you out here all alone. We’ll let this play out.”

“But this may take a while.”

“I’m the reason you’re out here in the first place. And I like your company, so i’ll stay.”

Peter knew he couldn’t argue with that one, so he let silence befall the two of them. It stayed like that for a moment. It wasn’t quite awkward, but it was definitely palpable. 

She thought to say something, he did the same, but neither could quite let their words come to life. It was unlike the girl he knew before, who said the first thing that came to mind. Unlike himself, who did the same, but in a less graceful way. 

Finally, after what felt like hours of deafening quiet, Peter begins with, “How long have you and Brad been a thing?” The question fresh on his mind, since her phone rang yet again, with his ugly mug lighting up the screen. It was the fourth time she ignored the notification. 

It was rare for Peter to hate a person. In fact he didn’t hate many at all. But there was something about Brad that always made his stomach clench. Didn’t help that he was sniffing around his girl. 

“Hmm.” She pondered, tapping her chin with her index finger. Acting as if she was carefully thinking about it.“For about for-never and a day” She finally answered.

“Oh I thought, that since—“ Peter stammered, growing embarrassed by his assumption, and the disdain that coated his words.

“Anyone would have, with him blowing my phone up.” She sighed. “But alas, nothing will ever come of us. No matter how much he wants it to. Wish he’d take a hint.”

Back to silence. But this time it didn’t consume Peter. It gave him a bit of hope, enough hope to ask her his next question. 

“Back at the party,” he started before pausing, which prompted her to question, yes, before he could properly collect his nerve to ask her what he wanted. 

“Back at the party, you mentioned you always kept tabs on me. Especially me. What did you mean by that?”

“I may have had a small crush on you.” She answered without missing a beat. This of course took him by surprise, but not for long. 

“Why did you never act on it?”

“Because I quickly realized you weren’t my type.” She said as if it was nothing in the world.

“Ouch. What did I do to make you realize that?” Peter asked. Though his tone was light-hearted, he tried not to let on that he was hurt. 

“Nothing.” She replied. “You were just yourself. Peter Parker, the innocent good boy who would never harm a fly.”

Peter thought to himself for a moment. He thought long and hard before he decided to bring up the word she had uttered more than once tonight. “There goes that word again: innocent. What makes you think I’m innocent?”

“Come on Parker. Ned told me you once donated a one hundred dollar bill you found lying on the sidewalk to the local homeless shelter. And that was after you couldn’t find its original owner. That’s got innocence written all over it.”

“Does that make me innocent or a good person?”

“They’re one and the same.”

“There is a big difference between the two.”

“I disagree. The two are definitely interchangeable. Good people are the ones who haven’t been corrupted yet.”

“So does that mean you aren’t a good person?”

“I think I’m a neutral person. Not exactly good, not exactly bad. Just walking the tightrope. I probably would have taken the money, and felt bad about it later.”

They both chuckled at her statement, letting it end that segment of the conversation. Though Peter was done fighting with her about her type’s moral compass, he wasn’t done with the subject all together.

“So,” He paused, and she braced herself, taking notice of how every time he did that, a question she was reluctant to answer followed. “what exactly is your type?”

An uncomfortable breathy laugh passed through her lips as she answered. “I didn’t exactly know it at the time, but I’m able to put it into words now.” She admitted, taking her time as she explained. 

“I guess ideally you were my type. Nice. Harmless. Smart. But I was also looking for someone who knew how to take control. I’m in control of everything in my life, so it feels good to meet a person who lets me relinquish that. Or in more crude terms, a person who has the ability to fuck my brains out.” She declared as she leered in his direction with a small smirk playing her lips. 

She was only teasing. But she could feel that the air had grown thick on the side of the car that Peter had resided in. For a split second, she could have sworn that she saw something snap in him. But as quickly as it appeared, it vanished, making her feel as though she had imagined the entire thing. 

But she knew that couldn’t have been right. Known for many things, her vivid imagination wasn’t one of them. His breath hitched. His shoulders tensed. She hadn’t imagined that. What he said next, after what felt like an hour of silence told her that she didn’t imagine anything at all. 

“Did teaching me, ever cross your mind?” He asked. His grip on the steering wheel, turning his knuckles white. She saw his Adam’s apple bob after he spoke, and his chestnut eyes focused on the rain that splattered against the windshield. 

“U-um I-,” She stammered, Peter catching her by surprise. She had to really think about his question. “I suppose it never did.”

“You still want me?” He asked her, turning his attention back on her. 

“Huh?”

“Am I still your type? Aside from the fact that I can’t take control?” 

She just swallows, before nodding.

Noting her surprise, but not relenting he says, “Then teach me.”

“What?” She questions, fearing she misheard him. 

“Teach me.” He repeated, only elaborating when she scrutinized his face. “Show me exactly how you want to be touched. Kissed. Fucked.”

The way he said the word, fuck, was so filthy. It almost made her lose the rest of her composure. Not like she had much left. He had already rendered her speechless, now he was ruining her panties.

No. She wouldn’t let it play out like this. She had a reputation to uphold.

She peered over her shoulder, then back to him trying to assess whether or not he was serious. When his face showed no sign of amusement, she swung her door open, to trade her passenger’s seat for the back one. 

The rain’s onslaught was still vicious, so her previously dry form was borderline drenched. July’s summer heat, did no favors in keeping her warm, and she had no idea if she was shivering from the rain or her nerves. “Are you gonna come keep me warm or what?” She challenged, trying to find her confidence again.  

It was only seconds before Peter joined her, but it was no question that his body was shaking with anticipation. He looked at her expectantly, surveying her every move. From the way her eyes flitted to the ground, to the way her hands busied themselves by rubbing at her thighs. She was nervous. 

It must have been a snowy day in hell.

“What should we do first?” She asked. 

“Does the instructor usually ask the pupil what lessons they should start with?”

“Kiss me?” She suggested, half-ignoring his comment. 

“Are you asking me, or telling me?” Peter remarked, amusement glinting in his eyes. 

Annoyance overtaking her tone now, she demands this time, “Kiss me.” 

“Say please.” He teased. 

“Damn it Peter, fucking kiss m—”

And then he glued his lips to hers. They were sweet and gentle, like him, but still managed to convey his longing. He hoped the kiss would capture all the times he imagined doing it when she would flash those pretty brown eyes his way. When she would speak in a way that put an angel’s timbre to shame. Even when she would fucking breathe, he imagined kissing her until his lips fell off. He hoped the kiss would make up for all of the ones he was dying to share with her over the years.

The pads of his fingers roamed over her silky smooth skin, starting at her cheeks, ending at her neckline. He tasted the flavor of her strawberry chapstick, the same one that made her lips feel and look as smooth as butter. When he inhaled and tasted the faint scent of minty watermelon on her breath, he decided he couldn’t get enough. He wanted to kiss her until he committed to memory every bump on her tongue. Then he would be satisfied. 

“Like this?” He whispered, pulling back to inhale the same air as her, almost turning feral at the sight of her swollen lips and blown pupils. “Or,” he started, leaning back in to go again, searching her eyes, “like this?”

Whereas kiss one was innocent and sweet, the way that Peter portrays himself, kiss two was the definition of what he could be…or maybe what he already was, she couldn’t tell. He was filthy with the way his tongue glided against hers. The hot wet muscle played hers like an instrument, before locking the two together. One of his hands planted itself on the nape of her neck, forcing her to feel every measure against her mouth. She couldn’t move if she wanted to, not that she wanted to. Just like him she wanted to relish the taste of him. 

With his nose pressed against her cheek, and hers against his, they kissed like they wanted to touch the other’s souls. They began breathing in the rest of the other’s air, like they wanted to swap lungs. Exploring the other’s bodies, like they would die if they didn’t study the exact texture of the other’s skin. 

It took everything in Peter to restrain himself. To keep his thumbs from traveling beneath her shirt. He nipped at his tongue to keep from nipping at her lips and skin. He tried shifting in his seat to distract himself from the shifting going on in his jeans. 

It certainly didn’t help the growing tent in his pants when the girl planted her thighs on either side of his, rocking and rolling her hips to alleviate some of the tension in her panties. 

She took over the kiss, setting the pace and overcoming the surprise from Peter earlier.

Her fingers, that were previously glued to his face, began fumbling with the hem of his shirt, peeling the wet material off and over his head. She marveled at his sculpted chest for a moment, before Peter followed suit, pulling her dampened top over her arms and flinging it over the seat. 

A throaty groan passed his lips when she resumed her measures against his hips. Grinding herself down on his hardening member. 

Her breathy whimpers intensified when his surprisingly warm hands traveled along her skin, caressing her soft flesh. She was getting more worked up the more Peter mimicked the movement of her hips, grinding upwards while simultaneously pinning her waist down. 

She tugged harshly on the patch of hair that lived on the back of his neck, eliciting one of the sexiest groans she had ever heard. His heavily lidded eyes that held the same fire as hers, both scared and excited her. 

As she leaned in closely, preparing her words carefully she ordered him to, “Kiss me here,” before planting her lips on his neck. Flattening her tongue to lick a stripe up the exposed skin, she began swirling the appendage before nipping, licking, and sucking until his skin had a reddish purple hue. 

She got lost in the feel of him, succumbing to the sound of his hisses and moans only to yelp a moment later, when Peter mimicked her earlier actions.

With a fistful of her hair, and her exposed neck jutting out towards his lips he licked a stripe against the skin, just as she did earlier, only his measures were steady and calculated, taking note of every flinch and hitch of her breath. He found her sweet spot in seconds, focusing all of his attention there. 

With her nails digging into his flesh, and her hips stuttering, Peter knew he had her where he wanted her. “Like that?” He rasped, pulling away to admire the strings of purple and blue that littered her skin. 

“Fuck yea Parker; you learn fast.” She gasped, attempting at a laugh, as she peeled her chest off of him.  She took a hand of his into hers, grasping two of his fingers as she bought them to her lips. 

Hollowing her cheeks as she sensually sucked and lubricated his digits, she bought his other hand down to her shorts, beckoning him to unbutton them. “Touch me here.” She murmured, eyes taking in the wide curious ones staring back at her. 

With the newly slick fingers, Peter did as she told him, dipping his fingers beneath the waistband of her panties and finding her nub instantaneously. “Right here?” He enquired, when her breathing turned shaky. 

“Mmm, god yes!” She praised, as he worked his fingers over her. 

Setting a consistent pace, Peter lightly grazed her clit, every time he ran his fingers up and down her folds. “Am I doing this right?” He questioned, flicking and teasing her core. 

“Mhm” She mewled, “fuck y-your fingers feel so good” Her speech was now becoming slightly incoherent.

“Yeah?” He groaned, “What about my mouth?” He asked, just before unclasping her bra a little too effortlessly with one hand. Latching his lips against her perky chest, he massaged the other mound with his free hand.  

Words were lost on her, as she became a wanton mess. She couldn’t fathom how he could be so skillful with both hands. How a person could multitask the way that he did was indescribable. His hand on her clit didn’t let up, but neither did the one that tweaked and pulled on her nipple. Not to mention the hot tongue that darted and sucked meticulously at her other. She couldn’t stifle her cries if she tried. 

Riding his fingers, she pressed his head further into her chest,  becoming greedy with his touch, as she sprinted towards her orgasm. She thought that this feeling couldn’t get any better. 

Of course, Peter was full of nothing but surprises tonight, and needed to prove her wrong. He let two of his fingers slip inside of her, while a thumb replaced the ones that were glued to her clit. Rubbing circles against her sex, he pumped the two fingers furiously in and out of her hole. 

“Does that feel good, baby?”

But the girl didn’t answer, Her mouth hung open as if she wanted to, but the words were jumbled somewhere in her throat. Her face twisted into pleasure, and she couldn’t do anything but succumb to his measures against her body.

It wasn’t long before she felt her stomach spasming, the heat pooling to her core, her already sensitive flower growing even more sensitive, as she came into his palm. 

Her juices coated his digits, her walls fluttered around them, and her skin was now hot to the touch, as Peter forced her climax out of her. 

Tears flooded her eyes, as she took in as much air as she could. When had she stopped breathing? Maybe sometime during the earth-shattering orgasm her old classmate was giving her. 

Once the ringing in her ears subsided, and her lower region began to cool again, she thanked the boy and praised him as she said, “You did so well,” before planting hot wet kisses on his shoulder and neck.

She stopped when she felt his body shaking. Coming back up to eye him, she asked what he found so funny. 

Peter tried to hide the smirk that plastered his lips but he couldn’t hold his act any longer. “You just don’t get it do you?” He asks as he casually licks and sucks at his fingers, just as she did earlier, relishing in the taste of her essence. 

The confusion on her face and brain was evident. “Get wha—” He had her pinned on her back, before she could utter the last syllable.

The tight space was cramped, but the boy had more than enough room to stalk his prey. He hovered above her, ridding her of the rest of her clothes in one fell swoop, before delivering his monologue. 

“I don’t know what it is about girls like you, but I swear you drive me crazy.” He admitted, before removing his jeans in a quick motion. “You always assume that just because I’m a nice guy, I won’t be able to fuck your brains out.” He informed, before revealing a hidden condom and rolling it on before lining himself up at her entrance. “But I hope that if tonight proves anything to you,” He starts, eyes finally darting up to land on her horror-filled ones, “it will be that your mindset can land you in a whole heap of trouble.”

And with that, he grasps the door above her head, before sinking himself into her.

Groaning at the feel of her, Peter’s facade dropped completely. Her tight little cunt feels even better than he imagined, and he hopes that he feels better than she ever imagined. 

He starts slow, with the intent of her feeling every ridge of his cock, as it threatens to invade her stomach. Her soft tits bouncing with every thrust, send a jolt through his body every time her nipples graze his chest. The way his name falls off her sweet tongue, has him in shambles, as he picks up his pace, throwing slow and steady out of the window. 

Her cries are loud in his ear, as he ruts against her sex. He’s so thick, its hard for her to think straight. He can feel the indents of her nails as they dig into his lower back; she tries to press his ass closer to her, never wanting him to leave.

Maybe if it were any other guy fucking her, she would have felt the seat buckle digging into her back. Maybe she would have felt her sticky sweaty skin on the leather of his back seat. Maybe the awkward position her head was in would have spoiled her experience. But with Peter, she could only focus on the pleasure. 

His thrusts were relentless now. His hot breath was fanning the side of her cheeks. His previously damp hair, stuck to her neck, as he drove himself further into her skin. Nothing could distract him away from her in this moment.

Nothing but the faint glow of her phone, that is. It’s buzzing, and vibrations immediately catching his eye, as he held his head up. That same dangerous smirk that she saw earlier returning. 

“Look who’s calling, baby.” He purred, overcoming the stutter of his hips. When he held her phone up for her to see, her heart sank at the mischief behind his words. Brad. “Should we answer it?”

“No, Pete!” She cried. 

“Oh come on, that would be rude wouldn’t it?” He dared, before delivering a particularly hard thrust, that sent her mind into a haze. “We can stop so you can take this—”

“No! D-don’t stop” She begged, prying the phone from his fingers, and fumbling with the answer button. 

“Babe? Hello?” Brad’s irritating voice answered flooding, her phone’s speaker. But the girl didn’t answer immediately, because she was too busy trying to stifle her whimpers. 

“Hey Brad!” She finally choked out, sounding somewhat normal. How she managed to do it, she couldn’t say. 

“Wow! Finally. This is like my eighth time trying you. I almost can’t believe you answered. What are you up to?”

“Should you tell him what you’re up to, babe?” Peter devilishly whispered against her skin.

“Nothing!” She whined into the phone. 

“Whoa. Are you okay? You sound a little off?”

“You should tell him you sound like this because I’m making you feel so good.” Peter suggested, driving her body up and down the seats. “I bet he’d wish he were me right now.”

“I-I’m just a feeling a l-li-little sick is all.” She breathlessly stuttered.

“Should I come over?”

“Ah yes Peter!” She wailed, when the boy starts circling his fingers against her clit, while simultaneously grinding slowly but roughly into her. She’s no longer paying attention to the man on the other end. His curses don’t faze her, nor does Peter’s actions as he releases the phone from her grip. 

“Hey Brad. Remember me.” He casually asks, ignoring Brad’s threats. “Yeah no man, don’t worry about her: I’ll make sure she’s real good and taken care of.” He promises, before ending the call, and tossing the device into the passenger’s seat. “Think he finally got the hint?”

Peter then takes the girl’s hips into his hands, lifting her inches off the seat, before pulling her body onto his dick at an ungodly speed.

Crying. She’s literally crying, with tears streaming down her face. Her voice is becoming hoarse with moans. She had never experienced such intense sex in her life. 

Peter brings the hand that was previously plastered on the glass down to the girl’s face. “would this be the definition of fucking your brains out, baby?” He grunts, in reference to the girl’s constant repetition of his name. It’s the only word she can remember, as he fucks her into the chair. 

His movements shook the car. The heat that their bodies radiated, fogging up the glass. The scent of their sex now embedded in the fabric of his seats. The boy was completely untamed. 

Her screams were one among the things that set him off. The way her body writhed against his was another. The stutter in her speech another. But the unbridled lust that her eyes held, was the literal icing on the cake. 

Thank fuck she came before him. Her tight little hole constricting and clenching his dick. And when he started slipping in and out, her eyes glued shut, and her chest started to rise and fall, he knew that she had came. 

A sweaty fucked out mess before him, she needed Peter to finish her off before she was satisfied. “Drown me in your cum” She begged, and it was like he knew exactly what she wanted. 

Unsheathing himself from her, he ridded himself of the condom, and started tugging violently at his cock. Fucking his hand, not unlike the way he fucked her earlier, he spurted his milky white seed all over her supple brown canvas, a husky groan roaring from his chest as he threw his head back in pleasure. His seed extinguished the heat that resided in her skin, and she closed her eyes shut, letting her head fall back down on the seat. 

The image of his white paint, all over her stomach, chest, and tits, bleeding into his memory, as he came back down from his high. 

Once back down to earth, reality began to sink back in. Immediately recomposing himself, Peter blurted, “Fuck are you okay? Was I too rough?”

His sudden outburst almost made her jump out of her skin, but she quickly recovered. “Oh god no Parker! I loved every minute of that.” She lazily smiled reassuringly.  “Do you always fuck like that?”

Peter returned the smirk, blushing before saying, “I’ve always wanted to fuck you like that.” 

After planting a final kiss on her lips, he reached into the center console, to scavenge a few wet wipes, cleaning her skin before discarding them. 

Moments later, they reunited with their lost articles of clothes, pulling the fabrics over their limbs before crawling back into the front seat.

When Peter put his seatbelt back on, and cranked the car up with no effort, he felt the heat of the girl’s eyes on his skin. 

“What?” He asked, dumbfounded by her glare. 

“Was there ever anything wrong with the car?”

And then as if just realizing Peter mouthes oh, before telling her simply “No.” Adding on that he just wanted an excuse to spend more time with her. 

“Well how the fuck did you know I wasn’t gonna just take your offer for an Uber?”  She asked, more impressed than pissed.

“Because you’re a neutral person, and a neutral person would feel too bad about doing that.”

“There’s a lot of things I still have to learn about you Parker.” She admits, sinking down into her seat. Heat rising to her cheeks, as a new crush began to develop. 

“Don’t worry. I’m willing to teach you.” 

 A/N: So like...don’t be afraid to tell me what you think. I swear I dont bite...unless you're into that. also this was edited it, but probably not well, so tell me if you see an error. 

[lotti-lyric]

Hi! I don't know if you're still doing it, but I saw your post and I wanted to request a romantic matchup! I would probably be at General Studies. (Also, I'm new to tumblr, it's here that I ask, right?)

So, I'm a female (she/her all the way), asexual and sex-repulsed, also minromantic (attracted to male presenting people, even if the person in question is a cis-girl) with preference towards he/him. I'm Brazilian, which means I speak mostly Portuguese, then English, and finally a little bit of Spanish (and I will mix all of them in the same sentence sometimes lol). I'm only 1,48m (4'10"? 4'11"? Idk), and my body could be described as mid-size/very curvy, tho it can all be easily hidden by an oversized shirt and sweatpants (when I'm wearing those clothes, people tend to think I'm 12 :\)

I have light skin (I'm white) that can get easily tanned, as long as I don't stay under the sun too much (I have a mild allergy to sunrays). My hair is very wavy, but there will be days where it'll look like it's straight, and others, curly (I don't even bother guessing anymore, it's always a surprise lol). My eyes and my hair are dark brown, it even looks a little like black. Beauty marks everywhere, as well as body hair.

I'm an Aries and an INFP-T. Very introverted, quiet and shy, I can't socialize very well with people whom I don't know or I'm not close to. I have anxiety and social phobia. Once I'm comfortable enough, I'll be laughing 90% of the time, very sarcastic and it's better if I don't start talking about books or music, cause I won't stop soon. I don't have a friendly face and a lot of people stay away because of it (tho it makes me sad, I also use it to scare people who are mean to me or my friends). I'm very aloof and distant, kinda oblivious, but I do care a lot, just don't like showing it. I'm not into physical contact with friends, but a SO may be an exception.

Because I'm a formally gifted, now burnout, kid, I hate being wrong and I tend to base my worth according to my grades. If I'm not good at the first try, why give a second chance? (Spoiler: I know why). Oh, I also like to dance, write and draw, don't like to dress up nor wearing makeup. Being comfortable is everything! I love colorful things, so cloudy/rainy days make me sad. I'm insomniac and I can't sleep till everyone around fall asleep first.

I know it's a lot, sorry. I hope you don't mind and thank you very much in advance!

charlotte’s interlude 💗- hi!! so so sorry again for the delay!! i hope you’re doing well and enjoy! have a great one! i’m so sorry again :((

warnings; anxiety mention

i match you with…

Hitoshi Shinsou!!

this for you both, it matches the vibe!! ^

def thinks it’s super cool you can speak multiple languages!! he’d learn some to try and understand when you use them all!! 💗

he doesn’t necessarily enjoy socializing either so you both like to keep to yourselves and each other!!

just two introverts chilling together to recharge!! ✨

absolutely adores your laugh!! he’s got a super dry sense of humor and is super sarcastic so you both just play off each other

so many sarcastic comments and cackling in between 💀💀

he’d listen to you rant about books or music all day!! he’s genuinely listening too, taking in everything you say!!

he understands that you don’t like to show how you care, he knows you do and trusts you 100%!!

he supports you and always make sure you know your worth outside academics, that you are a worthwhile person!! he makes sure you value yourself!!

you two are always comfortable!! if you’re forced to dress up for something, screw it, you’ll go casual together!! all for one 💃🏼

all in all, v v supportive we love to see it

[witchy-mel]

The Note

[A/N: This is a Russell x Petey "one-shot" fanfic. I put one-shot in quotes because I low-key kinda ship them and this is basically just my interpretation of how their relationship would... begin(if that makes sense lol). I won't be necessarily adding on to this, but if my school work doesn't take over me, I might make different situations of this ship(or just draw it idk). FYI: I'm going to be using Petey's full first name when he's not being referred to in quotes just in case you're wondering why he's referred to so formally lol(idk why i did it this way, but it's just better for me than to just use 'Petey' all the time).]

--------------------------------------

It was 3:30 pm on a Thursday. Classes were over for the day. Kids were racing out of classroom doors, hurrying to meet with friends to talk about weekend plans and whatnot. Something Peter wished he was doing right now. Unfortunately for him, he was walking down the halls with Derby Harrington. They were talking about their part of the class project they got assigned to in English. Luckily, they got the easiest part. All they had to do was a six-slide PowerPoint report summary of the current novel the class was reading, Romeo and Juliet. Every one else was assigned a skit or some sort of visual representation, and Peter was glad he wouldn't have to experience another episode of 5th grade. But his luck didn't last long because he got paired up with Derby. If he had a list of Preps that he couldn't stand, Derby would be at the very top. His snobbish behavior irritated him and he was going to have to deal with it for two weeks. He couldn't switch partners either because Mr. Galloway had already picked these groups in advance so he was just going to have to deal with it. Hopefully, he won't drive him crazy before the end of the week.

They had stopped by Peter's locker so that he could put away his stuff and grab his book. "So, we'll do three slides each, then, " Peter said while neatly stacking his things into his locker. The golden-haired boy leaned on a locker next to Peters, examining his manicured nails with one leg crossed over the other. "Let's keep this simple, okay. Harringtons are very busy people, y'know." Derby said, who was now examining the nails on his right hand. 'Yeah, because buying yachts and spending daddy's money is soooo time-consuming,' Peter thought while rolling his eyes. Ignoring Derby's statement, they proceeded to talk about how they would set-up the project. While they were discussing their plans, the hallway next to them was emptying faster than when one of the bullies would chuck a stink bomb in the cafeteria, making the already horrid smell of the lunchroom even more unbearable.

Kids were darting left and right, frantically trying to avoid the person that was coming their way. Cheerful conversations were replaced with gasps and footsteps tapping against the floor. It was Russell and he was heading straight towards Peter's locker. His head hung low, his face dull and ominous. His power-walk made him look even more threatening. It wouldn't take him long to get there. "... and make sure to be prepared the day before the due date. We don't-" Derby was cut short after he took a glance up from his hand, seeing Russell storming towards them. He quickly fled into the bathroom that was close to the lockers.

Peter, on the other hand, was still rummaging through his locker. He was looking for his book for the project. He could have sworn he had put it on the top shelf. He had already toned out Derby earlier, which was for him, but it was a little too quiet. "Sorry, what were you saying?" Peter asked as he closed his locker, pretending as if he was listening. He'd imagined Derby would be standing there with his arms crossed with an impatient look on his face. Strange enough, he had completely disappeared. "Derby...?" Peter called out while he looking around, but no response. He just shrugged it off; more time to work then. He decided to use a copy online until he can find his.

He turned from his locker and was greeted by Russell looming over him. His tan skin slowly faded into a sickly white as he locked eyes with the taller and significantly larger pupil. His face was red, and his eyebrows were burrowed. Was he mad? But why at him? He greeted him nervously, "Uh...h-hey Russell," his voice small and shaky. Russell suddenly slammed his giant hand against Peter's locker, trapping the petite boy in between himself and it. The noise of the metal clashing together made Peter jolt and hiccup a gasp. There were so many thoughts were racing through his head. 'What is happening?' 'Did I do something wrong?' ‘Is he going to shove me in the locker?' ‘What does he want from me?’ Russell had begun to raise his tightly balled fist. Peter just flinched beneath him and waited for whatever was to come. A minute passed before he realized that he was still in one piece and wasn't smooshed into someone's messy locker. Peter slowly opened his right eye to see if it was just some prank to scare him. Well, that's what he hoped. To his surprise, he saw a little, white, wrinkled envelope resting in Russell's large palm. "For...Petey," Russell said, who was now looking away from the smaller boy, his face slightly flushed. Peter carefully took the envelope out of his hand. "Ah- t-thank you," he said, with a fearful grin. Russell removed his hand from the rusty green locker and shoved them into his dirty, jean pockets then walked away from Peter, leaving him lost for words.

Peter watched as Russell walked away until he disappeared behind the hallway walls. After grasping what had just happened, he slammed his body into the locker and slid down to the tiled floor. A sigh of relief escaping his lungs. He looked at the envelope in his hand He turned it around in his hand. 'What could be in this?' he thought as he studied the envelope. Knowing Russell, surprises from him either left you injured or eternally traumatized. "Is he gone?" asked a voice coming from the right of him. He turned his head towards the bathroom to discover the once obnoxious and over-confident prep cowering behind the boys' restroom wall. It was kind of funny. He couldn't blame him, but still. "Yeah," Peter answered back. He was trying to hold back laughter. "Good. Speak of this to anyone, and I'll have daddy sue you." Derby threatened while he brushed off his Aquaberry vest and recomposed himself. Peter quickly cleared his throat and put on a straight face. “Well, now that that's over, I'll be seeing you tomorrow in English, so be prepared.” He then proceeded to walk down the hall towards the main doors. Peter decided it was his time to leave as well and because he was getting sore from sitting on the hard floor for so long. He pushed himself up and headed for the boys' dorm.

When Peter entered the dorm, it was quieter than usual. It was practically empty. Well, it would be if Gary and Jimmy weren't sitting on the couch watching some cartoon on the tv that he didn't care to recognize. ‘Just great…’, he thought. If they spotted or heard him, especially Gary, they'd probably hassle him about the letter. He had to figure out a way to get past them quietly. Then it came to him. As ridiculous, and probably unsanitary, as it was, he got down on all fours and started crawling to his room. Since he was small enough, it would be easier for him to sneak past. Successfully making it past the entrance to the living area, he now had to make the final stretch. As soon as he was far enough from the doors, he tiptoed the rest of the way to his room. When he got to the door, he slowly turned the doorknob and opened the door wide enough so that he could quickly slip in. He slid through and gently closed the door.

The duo continued watching tv in the living room, but Peter's plan didn't necessarily go as planned. Unfortunately, the main doors weren't as quiet as he was. "He does know that we heard him come through the front door, right?" Gary asked before taking another sip of Beam Cola. "Just let him have his fun," Jimmy replied, still focused on the tv. There was a moment of silence until Gary placed the can on the floor next to him and leaped over their couch, "I'm gonna see what he's doing," Gary said. He shoved his hands into his pants pockets and headed towards Peter's room. Jimmy sighed, then t switched off the tv.

Safe and sound he hoped. Peter plopped straight onto his bed. He reached into his back pocket and pulled out the envelope. He examined it a bit closer than when he was in the school halls. It was sealed with a barely sticky, small, pink heart sticker, and on the back was a note that read 'For Peter' written in three different shades of red in colored pencils. He lifted the sticker from the paper and pulled out the neatly folded piece of notebook paper stored inside. But before he could even read it, it was snatched out of his hands. "What'cha got here, femme boy? A love letter? Let me guess... it's for Beatrice, isn't it?" Gary teased, "Or wait, maybe it's for one of the jocks. I know how much you love to watch them during football practice in those tight pants." Gary pestered, causing Peter's face to go red. He didn't even hear him come in. He knew he should've locked the door! He had to get that letter back before he read it. "Hey, give that back!" he cried, stretching his arms up to grab the piece of paper Gary was taunting him with but was failing to reach it. "And it's not mine; someone gave it to me," Peter explained, still stretching for the paper. He knew he shouldn't have said that, knowing it would only make this worst. "Ooh~, a secret admirer, huh~?" asked Gary, seeming even more interested, "It can't be any of the girls. Hm...maybe one of the nerds or, better yet, one of those idiotic bullies! That seems right up your alley." Gary insulted. A sly, toothy smirk painting his face. Peter had stopped reaching for the paper bowed his head, tightly balling his fists up in his lap, almost digging his nails into his palms. His vision became blurry, and his face was hot.

"Cut it out already, would ya? Geez." Jimmy instructed while propped up on the door frame, his arms folded. "What? I was just playing around," Gary shrugged. Peter quickly snatched the paper out of Gary's hand, secretly wishing it would have given him a paper cut. "You're such a jerk, you know that?" Peter snapped back, clearing his watery eyes. "Aw~ did I hwurt da baby's feewlings? Here let me kiss it better." He extended his arms, attempting to hug the smaller boy but was restricted by a hand pushing on his chest. "Shut up..." Peter responded irritated, dodging eye contact.

"Well, when you two are done making out, I would like to know what's going on here," Jimmy said impatiently. "Little Petey here got a love letter," Gary said, pushing himself away from Peter. Jimmy raised an eyebrow, "A love letter? From who?" This was the part that Peter didn't want to happen. He knew if they found out, they'd probably, no DEFINITELY, laugh at him. Especially Gary. That's why he wanted to get to his room unnoticed. But he couldn't just sit there in silence, wishing he could turn back the time. He took a deep breath and spoke, "...it's…from Russell..." the boy softly answered.

"Russell?!" the duo exclaimed, jaws practically dropping to the ground. "So I was right! Haha, that's hilarious!" Gary laughed as if he had heard the funniest joke in the world. Jimmy elbowed him in the arm, almost causing Gary to fall. The taller boy glared back at Jimmy while rubbing his arm. "What does the letter say?" Jimmy asked. Peter uncrumpled the paper from when he snatched it out of Gary's hands so that he could read it. The handwriting was really neat, but the grammar was close to illegible. He tried his best to decode the message. "Meet Russell at...Old Bullworth Vale Garden tomorrow... at 4:00 pm." ‘4:00?’ 'What does he want to meet up for?' Peter thought about the incident that went down at the lockers and it sent shivers down his spine thinking about it.

"Ooo~ little Petey's going on his first date." "Would you cut it out already?" Petey shot back. He was growing tired of Gary's little comments. That combined with the thoughts of Russell potentially trapping him a port-a-potty only gave him a headache, and Gary wasn't making it any better. "Could you guys just go…please?" He said while rubbing his forehead. This was stressing him out. The two said their goodbyes and left Peter to drown in his thoughts. He could hear them arguing outside his door, but he wasn't paying much attention. He was still thinking about the note. He laid down on his bed and stared up at the broken ceiling fan. He thought to himself, 'Why did I read it?' 'What if I just threw it away? Then what?'. Peter didn't have time to worry about the ‘what-ifs’. He had a project to do. He groaned and rolled out of his bed. Sitting at his desk, he opened up his laptop and began working. Hoping that this would keep his mind off of it.

It was the next day at school. The day was nearly over, and Peter felt as though he had made no progress at all. All his day his mind was fogged up with recurring thoughts. His thoughts had shortly came to a stop because a faint voice was coming into tune through his right ear "…ey. Hey! Snap out of it!" It was Derby who was snapping his fingers, trying to pull the dazed boy out of his trance. "Hm? Oh, sorry, I got a little distracted..." Peter explained. "A little?! You've been "distracted" almost during the entire class! This is the third time I had to wake you back up!" Derby responded sharply. "I said I was sorry, alright? I just have a lot on my mind right now..." Peter explained. “Ha! What exactly could poor people even think about? Now is not the time for jokes, Kowalski.” Peter stared him down, now even more annoyed. He wished he was daydreaming again. Derby rolled his eyes and sighed. "Whatever, let's just get back to work," Derby instructed. They continued to work on their separate slides, Peter trying his best to keep his head out of the clouds.

*RING* The sound of the last school bell. To Peter, it sounded like the final gong before disaster struck. He stopped by his locker to put his stuff away before heading to the dorm. When he got to the dorm he headed straight to his room. He entered his room and sat on his bed. He sat there for a while. He scanned the wall in front of him until his eyes landed on the clock. A couple more minutes until it was time to meet up with Russell. He stood up and walked to the mirror behind the bed. He stared at his reflection. He looked drowsy. He hardly got any sleep last night. It was because of the note. That stupid note kept him in and out of sleep. Even when he was doing his work, that couldn't take his mind off of it either. And this was all because of a piece of paper. More so the person who wrote on that flimsy piece of paper. He slapped his face a bit to wake him up a bit and bring the color back to it. He contemplated whether he should change his clothes or not, but he decided that was unnecessary. It's not like he was going on a date or anything, despite what Gary said, so he just took off his vest and fixed up his shirt collar. He looked back at the clock. It was about time. He looked in the mirror and gave himself a reassuring nod. He headed out his room and straight to Old Bullworth Vale Garden. At least he would've been if he didn't have an unexpected visitor.

Gary was standing in front of him, his hand raised to knock on the door. Great, another person he didn't want to see today. They stared at each other for a while. “Look. I have somewhere to be, so if you have something important to say, hurry up.” the smaller boy explained. “Rushing to see your new boyfriend, huh?” Gary teased. Unsurprisingly, he only came to annoy him. Peter tried to walk past him, but Gary quickly blocked his path again. Peter sighed, “What?” he asked impatiently. “Look, I'm sorry, ok. For yesterday.” “You really think I'd fall for that? I know Jimmy told you to do this.” “Well, yeah. But if I didn't, then you'd ignore me for the rest of the week. Then teasing you won't be as fun. So…apology accepted?” Gary asked with a crooked smile. Peter shook his head. “I'll think about it.” He responded firmly. He pushed past Gary and continued on his way.

Well, here he was. No turning back now. He scanned the park looking for Russell, but he couldn't see him anywhere. Fortunately, he brought the note with him. Peter pulled the note out of his back pocket and unfolded it. He re-read it to see if there were any directions. Nothing on the front. He flipped it over to the backside. In blue-colored pencil was a message in the middle of the paper that read: 'Meet by soda machine' He stuffed the paper back into his pocket and treaded up the long stone path. When he reached the stone wall before the picnic area, he paused for a bit. There he was. He was sitting on the far left of the stone bench, staring out into the distance. He puffed out his chest then walked over to him. "Hey, Russell!" Peter greeted with a tiny wave, trying not to sound scared. Russell spun his head around and directed his vision to the smiling boy. Hi, Petey..." the red-head replied meekly, his cheeks a little flushed. "Mind if I sit here?" Peter asked, pointing at the vacant spot on the bench. Russell shook his head which allowed Peter to pop-a-squat right next to him.

"Sooo, what did you want to talk about?" Peter asked. Russell was nervously twiddling his thumbs, avoiding eye contact with the smaller boy. He never felt this anxious about someone, especially someone who he deemed as weaker than him. And that was nearly everyone! But for some reason, Peter was different. "Well...," he started, slowly, "Russell has been feeling weird. Towards you…" "Weird? What do you mean?" Peter asked curiously. "Whenever I see you...Russell get a weird feeling in my stomach, and heart goes fast," he answered. He could feel his cheeks getting hotter. It took Peter a while to realize what he meant. When he did, his eyes widened. He couldn't believe what he was hearing. "Wait, are you saying that you like me?" Russell nodded, his cheeks becoming darker by the second. "For how long?" "A while," Russell responded shyly. Peter was still shocked about the unexpected confession. He didn't know whether to feel relieved that Russell wasn't going to make him walk home smelling like the boys' gym locker room or surprised that Russell had admired him.

He never considered Russell to be his type, not that he had one, but he's pretty sure not many people's types are destructive bullies. But he had to admit when Russell wasn't threatening other students for their lunch money, he was kind of… cute, when he was like this, in one way or another. That's one thing he never thought he would think about Russell."It's okay if you don't like-" Russell began before being cut off by Peter, "N-no, it's fine. I don't mind..." he said while rubbing the back of his neck. A little splash of maroon now tinting his cheeks. Russell was surprised by the response a bit, but it shortly turned into a soft smile.

It was starting to get late, and Peter didn't want one of the prefects reporting him for being out after curfew to Dr. Crabblesnitch. "Well, if that's all you wanted to talk about, I should be getting back to the dorms." He explained. "Russell give you ride back," Russell offered. Thinking about it now, Peter didn't have any way to get back to the dorms, and he didn't like walking around at night. "Oh, okay. Thanks." Peter followed behind Russell towards the entrance gates to retrieve his bike. He stepped onto the spokes and tightly wrapped his arms around the bigger boy's waist. "Ready?" Russell asked. "Yeah," Peter replied. Russell raised his foot off the ground and started pedaling.

Russell was biking slowly just in case he went over any bumps, Peter wouldn't go flying off. The smaller boy was resting his head on his back and his arms wrapped around him gave his butterflies in his stomach, but the good kind. Peter was able to take in the scenery from the beach. The sunset made the town look so peaceful, especially the beach. With little speckles of the sunlight bouncing off the water, it was as if the sea were a peach that contained all of outer space. The scent of Russell's cologne and the view made Peter feel calm. He involuntarily nestled himself closer into his back which caused the redhead's heart to beat faster it could nearly pop out of his chest. He smiled to himself as he continued pedaling towards the school purposely going a bit slower so that the moment would last longer.

They arrived back at the school not long after. Russell parked his bike near the first step of the boys' dorm. Walking up the stairs, Peter stopped at the highest step and Russell two steps behind him so that they were at eye level. Or at least where Peter wasn't bending his neck to see not even half of his face. “Thanks for giving me a ride back.” the tiny boy praised with a gentle smile. “You're welcome," Russell replied sheepishly, blushing. There was small silence between them. The whooshing of the lukewarm early autumn wind filling in for some of the white noise. Before anyone could say anything to break it, Russell planted a little peck on Peter's forehead before walking back down the stairs to his bike. Russell waved back at Peter before getting on his bike and hitching it back home. Peter watched as Russell rode out to the courtyard as they waved at each other. When he was completely out of sight, he slightly touched his forehead and smiled to himself before entering the boys' dorm.

As soon as he got to his room, he fell onto his bed. He took one of his pillows and covered his blushed face in case someone walked in him. Little giggles passing through the pillowcase. He rolled around joyfully, completely messing up his bedsheets. The excitement letting loose throughout his body. He finally had calmed down after a session of frolicking all over his bed. He had almost forgotten to finish the rest of his slides. Now that his mind wasn't as cluttered as before, it would be easier for him to work. But considering what had just happened, he'd probably be distracted thinking about that now. He headed to his desk so he could get started, but before he even sat down, he noticed a book on top of his laptop. There was a piece of paper attached to it with clear tape. He picked it up and sat at his desk chair. Pulling the paper off revealed the cover of the book. Romeo and Juliet. He took a look at the note the was stuck to it. It read:

['Hey femme boy. I stole your girly book. I realized that I didn't want any of your girliness or any of you rubbing off on me, so I decided to return it. Be grateful.'

Sincerely,

You're BFF Gary Smith ;) ]

'So that's where it was huh?' Peter thought. He tongued the inside of his cheek before releasing a slightly annoyed laugh. At least he got his book back. That's all that really mattered. He'll get him back later, but for now, he had work to do. He flipped open his laptop and continued his previous work.

-------------------------------------

That's the end! I'm not really good at writing(even tho my strong suit is English/Literature 👀), so I hope that this was at least a little bit enjoyable/entertaining and not too cringy😅

[thepinksreact]

You Bring Me Comfort to My Soul

Page 1

Genre: Fluff, slight angst. High school sweethearts AU. 

Pairing: Lisa x Jisoo

Warning: Possibly swearing and adult conversations, but nothing too heavy

Type: scenario

Lalisa Manoban was entirely screwed. The second she saw the new transfer student, she nearly melted on the spot. It was Monday morning and Lisa was exhausted from her birthday party the night before. Her friends had surprised her and they’d stayed up so late she thought she might sleep the next day away. But, as the ever stubborn top student she was, Lisa pulled herself together and went to school anyway. It was her last year and she didn’t want to miss a single thing. Though she was ready to leave the life of small desks, raising hands to answer questions, incompetent instructors and rowdy kids she was not quite ready to part from her friends. Lisa thought that was the reason she begrudgingly dragged herself out of bed that morning.

 Now, as she sat mesmerized by the beautiful girl who had entered the room, she knew this was the reason she was in class today. Worried she was staring too long, Lisa turned her head away and tried to look busy by pulling out a book she absolutely loved – Junnie B Jones by Barbara Park. It was her favorite childhood series and lately she had been nostalgic due to it being her last year. Timidly, she peaked over the top of her book to see the lovely new student laughing at something the bubbly Emily Lee -- one of the best math students in the school -- had said. She listened quietly while pretending to read her book. She had never been this nervous around a cute girl before. Lisa was worried how she would be able to talk to her.

 The girl was around her same height, though slightly shorter. She was so elegant -- she oozed grace. Her features were soft and rounded in the right places. She had a stunningly straight nose and almond shaped eyes. They sparkled brilliantly when she spoke. She was dressed in a lovely white frock with beautiful lace decorations and half sleeves. She was truly a vision. When she laughed, it felt as though Lisa’s heart sped up. She was panicking now. Deciding that she was acting too strange, Lisa took a deep breath and began actually reading the book in her hands.

 They were currently waiting on their English instructor to arrive. It seemed he was over ten minutes late this day. Lisa cursed her luck. Here she was, crushing insanely on a graceful angel who had just waltzed into the class and her teacher couldn’t even be bothered to show up and give her a distraction. Great. She was annoyed, nervous and shy all at once. The small Thai native was debating running to the water fountain in the hallway when the teacher stepped through the door.

“Good morning, everyone!” said Mr. Elliot as he dropped his bag under the shiny metal desk and pulled a few folders from in front of his chair. “I hope you are all prepared for today’s lesson. For those of you who have been soaring through this class I understand today’s in-class assignments will be simple. But for those of you who struggle, please don’t fear my assistance. I’m here to help. Now –”

 Mr. Elliot paused, noticing the students take their seats. However, there was one student he didn’t recognize. He was puzzled as he didn’t recall the main office reminding him of taking on a new student. It was already four days into the school year.

“Hello there, miss!” He said kindly. “I apologize that I wasn’t aware you’d be joining us. What might we call you?”

The girl with the long, luscious black hair giggled quietly before answering, “That’s quite all right, sir. My name is Jisoo Kim. It’s nice to meet you. Is there anything I’m missing for my materials?”  Mr. Elliot assessed her materials momentarily, deciding they were satisfactory.

“Well, welcome to Saint Catherine’s, Miss Kim. You are all set. And with that, let’s begin.”

    Lisa’s ears wiggled at the sound of Jisoo’s name. Her heart skipped a beat and her palms were sweaty. She was never this nervous around the other girls in the school, Jisoo was just stunning.

   Jisoo was nervous when she first entered the classroom. She had come to America from South Korea and was very nervous to be in an English class. While she absolutely excelled at English and most of her studies, she was still adjusting to the American life. She missed her friends back home and wanted to settle well into her new home. The few classmates who had greeted her were very lovely and friendly, though she noticed a lot of the others in the class ignoring her altogether. She wondered if they were just bored. She herself was very bored once the teacher had started the class.  Having been put in school a little early, Jisoo was already 18 years old. She grew tired of the high school life. She just wanted to graduate so that she could continue her new life in the United States.

 Out the corner of her eye, Jisoo noticed a very pretty shy girl with short black hair and smoky looking eyes. The girl seemed very shy and nervous. The new girl felt for her. She had once been that way until she grew into herself.  It was a process to learn who you would become. Deciding she would speak with the girl later, Jisoo made a mental note to find out her favorite things and make a new friend. She was friendly after all. Jisoo loved making new friends.

For now, the new girl paid close attention to the instructor and took as many notes as she could. She would be successful, That was her ultimate goal. 

[crewhonk]

Bet (1/4)

Summary: Through a series of bets made between the two of them, new literature teacher, YN YLN, gets closer to old physics teacher, Bucky Barnes

Words: 2K

Pairings: BuckyYN, Stony, Samtasha

_____________________

“Well, It’s likely not an accurate storytelling of Native Canadian culture, is it? I mean, Boyden was a white dude writing about native Canadians and profiting off of them when there are people that the money would actually help and be earned by someone who actually knows how deeply the wendigo legends can affect people.” Michelle said without raising her hand, and YN looked up from her place at the front of the class, a smile spreading over her face in pride. 

YN YLN was the newest addition to the staff at MidTown high school, and she was nothing short of a breath of fresh air. The young Literature teacher had only graduated from university a year and a half ago, taking a gap year to see the world before settling down in her home city of Queens, New York. She challenged her student in a way that they hadn’t been challenged by previous teachers— some of the things Michelle and Peter would tell her about previous English teacher, Brock Rumlow was revolting. 

Sure, he did only teach Literature on the side of his PE classes, but nevertheless. 

“Brilliant, Michelle.” She winked at her smartest student and Michelle couldn’t help but flush with pride, sinking deeper into one of the many couches YN had thrifted to fill her class with. 

“Now, before you all start packing up, I want you guys to know that all ten of your journal entries about ‘Brave New World’ are due this Friday. Yes, Eugene, this Friday.” She hummed, catching Flash grumble to his sidekicks. Flash’s head shot up and seeing YN already staring at him, he flushed and shouldered his backpack. 

When he bell rung, YN packed her things, waiting for the last student to leave before grabbing her keys and locking the door behind her and heading her way to the staff room. She greeted a few of the ninth graders sitting on the floor outside of her class and stepping over their bags and walking down the way. 

“YLN!” She heard a familiar voice call and she turned quickly to see Natasha Romanoff shutting the door to her honours history class and jogging to catch up to her. Natasha had proven to be a huge help in helping the younger teacher settle into the hustle and bustle of the school, and had also come out to be a very possible close friend. 

“How was your weekend?” She asked, falling into step with the younger teacher. 

“Boring, honestly. I just marked papers and binged ‘The Legend of She-Ra’ again.” She replied, and rolled her eyes playfully at the scoff that came from her friend. 

“You’re such a nerd it’s almost painful sometimes. Listen, there’s a barbecue at Sam and I’s place, and we’re inviting the whole staff. Its a beginning of the year tradition— you have to come.” Natasha smiled as she pushed open the staff room door. YN made a noise and walked in ahead of her and turned before she saw who was in the room. 

“I don’t know, I have a senior year class that’s giving me their journal entries for the book Rumlow made them read over the summer— which was ridiculous. Literally, how are you okay assigning homework over the holidays? And a book that complicated and expecting decent results? I’ve never met the guy but I’m happy he was fired.” YN ranted, and Natasha looked on fondly. 

“Listen, You’re new to the staff and you’ve barely met anyone but me and Sam and Steve. This would be great for you to do.” She begged and YN rolled her neck and turned away from her, eyes landing directly on the group of men crowded around a table and laughing loudly. 

Steve Rogers (Humanities), had his arm resting on the back of Tony Starks (Chemistry) chair— according to Natasha, it was pretty common for teachers to start relationships with each other here. Her and Sam Wilson (he also taught history) had been dating around two years, and Steve and Tony, guessing by the rings on their fingers, had been married quite some time. Sam glanced towards the door and upon seeing Natasha, shot up and made his way over to her. 

YN would have looked away as he kissed Natasha in greeting if she had been looking in the first place. Next to Steve sat the tall, beefy, brooding James Barnes. His long-sleeved shirt seemed about ready to tear at the strain his arms were having on it. His hair was tied into a bun at the nape of his neck, and a healthy amount of scruff seemed to have grown over the weekend. He was bantering back and forth with the other Physics teacher, Bruce Banner on an article that had come out on Sunday and while he seemed to be relaxed, he also seemed to be deeply amused by the way Bruce was getting so fired up over the subject. 

“Hey, Earth to rookie.” Sam’s voice broke her gaze away from Barnes, and without giving herself time to blush, she smiled up at Sam who seemed to be glaring at her already. 

“What did I do?” She asked immediately, and Sam only rose an eyebrow. 

“Someone tells me you’re thinking about bailing on this weekend feast? Did she forget to tell you this was an un-skippable event?” He explained and YN rolled her eyes, walking over to the coffee machine and filling her mug again— only adding two sweetener before taking a sip. 

“Someone must have forgotten that I have 300 journal entries to grade over the weekend.” She replied, cocking her head and looking at Natasha who only looked pleasantly annoyed. 

“So, let me get this straight. You’re going to stay home this weekend and skip a traditional barbecue to grade some homework that the teacher from last year left you?” Sam asked incredulously. 

YN pretended to think for a second before nodding and saying “Yep!”

“Dude, just give them all 80% and they’ll be happy.” He groaned, a slight whine entering his tone which happened to amuse YN more than anything else. 

“Yeah, and break Michelle Jones’ heart? I don’t think so.” She replied, and YN let her gaze flicker once more to the table in the corner by the window, heat flooding her body pleasantly when she saw James Barnes already looking at her. She watched as he held eye contact before letting his eyes drift over her form and taking in her outfit (flowing skirt and tucked in blouse) and heels before looking at her again and smiling kindly. 

“He’s going to be there, too,” Sam said, a smirk on his face that could almost rival Natasha’s. YN fought a sheepish smile and looked up at the couple and back to James, who had already dove deep back into conversation with Bruce. 

“I’ll, um— I’ll think about it.”

__________________________

YN was in the middle of shepherding her kids out to the courtyard for a class when she literally ran into James. He was running, already, and YN was amazed by his reflexes as he turned and caught her halfway through her fall. His arms were secure around her waist, and his eyes were wild with excitement— maybe less from their sudden proximity and more due to the fact that there was a group of teenagers behind him holding something that looked vaguely like homemade bottle rockets. 

He pulled her to stand, and found himself getting more and more nervous the longer he looked at her this close. 

“Im— um, I’m James Barnes.” He said, his voice strong, but nervous. He held out a hand and prayed it wouldn’t be as sweaty as he thought it was as she slipped her own hand into his. He was warm— the sudden heat made her arm hair stand on end, and he fought a shiver as the chill of her own palm rocketed down his spine. “But everyone calls me Bucky.”

“Come on, Bucky, let’s go!” A dark-skinned girl just behind him smirked and he whipped around in surprise before seeing who it was and pointing a finger down at her. 

“Watch it, America. I’m not afraid of taking that rocket away from you.” He said sternly, and she held her bottle protectively to her chest, sticking out her tongue playfully before retreating back to her friend group (who was laughing hysterically) consisting of Kate Bishop, Teddy Altman and Cassandra Lang (Scott Lang’s, (Biology) daughter). Eli Bradley and Rayshaun Lucas, who was in her class but also part of that friend group were giggling to each other. 

“I’m YN YLN.” She smiled, taking her hand away and shoving it in her skirt pocket to hide the way it shook nervously. In her other hand was ‘Three Day Road’ and on her shoulder was the ratty satchel that looked like it had seen better days. 

An expression of Overdramatic recognition flooded his face and he started walking towards the back entrance of the school beside her, their kids trailing behind them like lost ducklings. 

“The same YN YLN that would rather skip out on the barbecue and grade than have fun with her peers?” He teased and she laughed, throwing her head back. He ignored the way she went off balance and stepped closer to him. He definitely ignored the way their arms brushed for the fraction of a second. 

“You heard about that, huh?” She joked, pushing the doors open and taking a breath of fresh air. They walked across the schools back entrance road and made their way to the expanse of yard beside the track ring where the new gym instructor, Thor, was running laps alongside his students and helping their form and encouraging them with the largest smile. 

“I did, and I think you should come. It’s going to be fun, I swear on my life. You’ll be able to meet a few of the kids and everyone is bringing their dogs, so it should be great.” He stopped and told his class to walk a little further to the opening— somewhere safe they would be able to shoot off their rockets. 

YN turned to her class and told them to get comfortable as she dropped her bag at the place at the base of the tree they had stopped by. 

“The dogs make it even more convincing.” She quipped, now holding her book with both hands and looking up at Bucky. The students on the grass around them were watching them with rapt attention, soaking up this new interaction and getting ready to spread the gossip around the halls during lunch. 

“You’ll be able to meet Charlie,” He smiled, bouncing on his toes like an excited child. YN rolled her eyes and decided it would be in their best interest if she played along. 

“Who would that be?”

“My mastiff. He’s the biggest cuddle bug.” He smiled, and YN repressed a smile that mirrored his own. 

“I don’t know, Mr. Barnes—“ YN said uncertainly and he looked back to his class (not to hide the fact that he was blushing) who were waiting for him fifty feet away. He jumped with an idea ad ran to them, grabbing one purple hole hoop and jogging back, placing the hoop in the middle of her class and smiling at her.

“I’ll make a bet. If I get a bottle in this hoop, you have to come this weekend. If I don’t, you can stay at home and grade.” He smiled and YN just smiled and shook her head, sitting down against the base of the tree and squinting up at him. 

“Fine. Now, go do your job, Barnes. You’re being inappropriate.” She chided half-heartedly and he shoved his hands in his pockets and strut away. She looked back at her class who were already watching her with the most amused expressions. 

“What?”

“I don’t know if this reminds anyone else of Mr. Wilson in sophomore year trying to get with Miss. Romanoff?” Eli piped up and the rest of the class seemed to remember the story fondly, murmuring to each other and glancing back to Mr. Barnes who was setting his rocket station up. He looked focussed and determined, and YN felt her heart flutter with hope. 

“Turn to page 108, please everyone.” She said, cutting off the chatter and waiting for everyone to do so. She nodded to Michelle in front of her and asked her to begin reading. Just as Michelle opened her mouth to begin, a plastic soda bottle landed dead centre in the middle of the class. There was a crowd of ‘whoop!’s’ and YN spun her head to look over at Bucky Barnes, who had two fists raised in the air and the brightest smile on his face. 

“See you at Wilsons, YLN!”

________________________

PART TWO 

[rainandhotchocolate]

Movie Star - Part 3

A/N lel sorry this took so long, but here it is!! Part mofo 33333333

“You look very nice,” Sirius smiled over at Y/ from the driver's seat. Y/N looked down at the silky, bright red wrap dress she had stolen from Lily’s maybe a director will see me clothing pile.

“Thanks, Mary’s instructions were very overwhelming, so good to know I look ok,” Y/N laughed awkwardly, playing with the hem of it so it didn’t ride up on the leather seats of Sirius’ car. It was a very nice car, pastel blue open-top buggy with white leather seats. Y/N couldn’t help but feel like she was in a classic film and should have a scarf wrapped around her head, hair blowing in the wind down a long, spiralling highway.

“Yeah, she’s a bit like that. I worked with her on a movie about four years back, when she was an assistant, and she was already taking charge of just about everybody who’d listen. As much as she can be overwhelming, she knows what she’s doing. And we’re about to get a free brunch so that’s a win in my book.”

Sirius winked at her and pulled into carpark across the road from the cage, handing his keys to a valet who seemed to be waiting as if he’d anticipated Sirius’ exact arrival. Maybe he actually was Y/N thought, her nerves spiking again as her brain spiralled into thoughts of how famous Sirius really was. How many people would be watching her?

“You ok?” He’d stepped out of the car and to her side to open the door for her. She’d been staring straight ahead at the dashboard.

“Oh yes, sorry, I’m fine,” Y/N plastered on a smile and took his hand, stepping onto the concrete. He closed the door, placing his hand softly on her lower back and leaning in towards her ear.

“Don’t worry about everyone else, just pretend it’s just you and me.”

Y/N’s heart did a little jump and she swallowed hard, trying to ignore it.

“Did you practice that in the mirror?” Y/N nudged him with her shoulder, smiling. Sirius barked a laugh, throwing his head back and letting out a warm throaty sound that made Y/N want to smile up at him for the next hour.

“Well this is going to be a harder fake date than I thought if you call me out on all my trash lines.”

“You’ll have to come up with some better ones then.”

“At least that was a terrible comeback, so at least we’ll be evenly matched.”

Y/N rolled her eyes but was still smiling a little giddily up at him. They walked up to the hostess stand where a very tall, blonde woman smiled perfectly at them, greeted Sirius and walked them immediately over to a table towards the back.

“I’m Bianca, if you need anything at all please let me know, I will be you personal server this morning.” Her smile was still going strong and was beginning to make Y/N slightly uncomfortable.

“Thanks Bianca, I’ll grab a three quarter soy latte, what were you after Y/N?”

“I’ll just have a long black, thank you.”

Bianca smiled slightly wider as she turned on her heel and walked towards the counter to put through our orders.

“Ok this is a lot,” Y/N laughed, turning to face Sirius who grimaced.

“Yeah, sorry, I probably should have warned you. Alice does enjoy setting up a bit of a show, don’t get too surprised if the waitresses start whispering, she’s likely told them to drop hints that we are here to the rest of the café.

“Oh great that doesn’t make me want to puke.”

“Ok ok, lets just talk about something else, distract you.”

“Like what?” Y/N felt like everyone was watching them, her cheeks growing red.

“Tell me where you grew up,” Sirius leaned back in his chair, smiling softly at her, his grey eyes looking into her own. Y/N couldn’t help but laugh at the slightly clichéd question.

“Uh… I grew up in the Bay Area, with my mum and brother.” Y/N paused, wondering if Sirius actually cared or if he was just trying to get her distracted from the slight clicking noises indicating cameras were taking photos very nearby. Sirius nodded for her to continue.

“Yeah, so I don’t know what else to say?” Y/N laughed, “It was a small town like an hour from San Francisco, so it was very quiet which I sort of hated.”

“Yeah I get that, I grew up in a small town in the west of England, it drove me insane.”

“You grew up in England?” Y/N narrowed her eyes, “You are not British, I call bullshit.”

Sirius snorted, grinning mischievously at her.

“I am in fact British,” His accent suddenly changed, a posh English accent replacing the unassuming American one he’d previously used.

“Ok, this is ridiculous, are you in witness protection?” Y/N stared at him, wide-eyed and feeling a little more intimidated if that was possible.

“I’m actually a secret agent,” He leaned in as close as possible, pretending to glance around suspiciously. Y/N giggled at him. “Nah, I was very self-conscious of it when I moved here, I was 17 and everyone with an accent was automatically typecast so I hired a voice coach to work with me until I could hide it. It happened to just become a habit. Might be a bit awkward to change my voice in the middle of an interview now.”

Sirius huffed out a laugh.

“Anyway, now I can surprise producers with my incredible accent skills.”

“I was curious about that on set, you were much too impressive for it to just be pure talent.”

“Oi!” Sirius grinned, “I have much more talents than you’d expect.”

“Well I’m excited to find out.” Y/N gave him what she hoped was a sly smile. Was he flirting?

Bianca came back with two parfaits, compliments of the house, and took their orders before they fell back into easy conversation about their hometowns and similarly frustrating experiences trying to find an acting class that wasn’t just doing beauty and the beast every season.

“I can’t believe you had to play Mr Darcy! You really are a multi-faceted actor,” Sirius cackled when Y/N had shown her a photo of her dressed up in her all girls Pride and Prejudice play in her last year of high school.

“I mean I had to be going up against all the other girls vying to play against Sirius Black himself.” Y/N grinned back at him.

“Ahhh, so that was the real reason you applied for this role huh?” Sirius leaned in again, placing his hand underneath his chin and tutting loudly.

“You caught me, I’ve been secretly stalking you, that’s why I had no idea we were in the same show when I arrived, like an idiot.”

“It is the perfect ploy, girl accidentally bumps into guy,” Sirius chuckled loudly, stretching back into his chair and checking the time on his watch.

“Oh my god, it’s nearly 2! I’m meant to meet up with someone in thirty, I might need to get going. Sorry to rush out on you like that.”

“No no! So fine, sorry to keep you from your lunch date.” Y/N grabbed her bag and pulled out her wallet.

“Don’t you bloody dare,” Sirius held out a hand, a slight twinge in his accent coming through as he became less composed, “This is a date remember.”

“Right, right,” Y/N laughed, “And I guess Alice is paying you back?”

“That is also correct,” Sirius grinned, “I’ll drop you home?”

“I actually wanted to have a walk around this area, I’m still trying to get a feel for where everything is.”

“Ok, the fact that you just said you were going to walk makes it that much more obvious that you are still an LA newbie,” Sirius shook his head. “I’m dropping you off, and at some point this week I’m driving you around LA.”

“No, no, don’t stress, I can steal Lily’s car at some point.” Y/N brushed him off, trying to push down the little ball curling around in her stomach. He wants to show you around – shut up you actual fool.

“Not hearing another word, we can organise another time when I see you on set tomorrow,” He smiled brightly at her, pulling a hand through the curly black mass of hair that seemed to constantly be falling in front of his eyes. “Give me a second I’ll pay and I’ll drop you off.”

“OK, can do.” Y/N watched him turn around and head towards the hostess stand to pay. Her heart was pounding a little faster than normal. She took in a deep breath, and swore under her breath, fuck.

Taglist: @ WANGMANGAGAVROCHE    HERMIONIE-IS-MY-QUEEN   @DEMIWITCH52  @riddikuluslypotter   @loveyourppl    KATEXWOW   SLEEPINGALASKA   @siriuslyjanhvi 

@averytruerayofsunshine  @blushingskywalker @blackpinkdolan @thebabblingbookworm @cherrie511 @imlukesnirvana​ @avengersassemblee​ @maraudersandco​ @sly-vixen-up2nogood​ @katbernoulli @sirius-lysad​ @evyiione​ @minerva26love​ @aikeia​ @gollyderek​ @greatwombatblaze​  @songforhema​  @your-typical-giggle @myownviperroom @hermionie-is-my-queen @demiwitch527

[maddie-grove]

The Top Twenty Books I Read in 2019

My main takeaways from the past year’s reading:

Sometimes you think something is happening because of magic, but then it turns out to have a non-magical explanation so weird that you find yourself saying, “You know what? I wish faeries or God were responsible for this. I’d honestly feel less disturbed.”

Stop bathing and changing your clothes and shaving for three years, three months, and three days. You’ll find out who your real friends are. I promise you that.

I want more books about bisexual ladies!!! Give them to me!!!

Anyway...

20. The Prodigal Duke by Theresa Romain (2017)

Childhood sweethearts Poppy Hayworth and Leo Billingsley were separated when his older brother, a duke, sent him away to make his fortune. Years later, the duke is dead, a financially successful Leo has come back to England to take his place, and Poppy has become a rope dancer at Vauxhall Gardens after a life-shattering event. New sparks are flying between them, but is love possible when so much else has changed? Leo and Poppy are believable and charming as old friends, Romain makes great use of obscure historical details from the oft-depicted Regency period, and I loved Leo’s difficult but caring elderly uncle.

19. Simple Jess by Pamela Morsi (1996)

Althea Winsloe, a young widow in 1900s Arkansas, has no interest in remarrying, but almost everyone in her small Ozarks community is pressuring her to remarry, and she still needs someone to help farm her land. Enter Jesse Best, a strong young man with cognitive disabilities who’s happy to take on the work. As he makes improvements to her farm and bonds with her three-year-old son, Althea gets to know him better and starts to see him in a new light. This earthy romance could’ve been a disaster, but instead it illustrates how people with disabilities are often...uh...simplified and de-sexualized in a way that denies them autonomy. Morsi has a similarly nuanced take on Althea and Jesse’s community, which is claustrophobic and supportive all at once.

18. Leah on the Offbeat by Becky Albertalli (2018)

Outspoken and insecure, bisexual high school senior Leah Burke is having a tough year. Her friend group is in turmoil, her single mom is seriously dating someone, and she’s caught between a sweet boy she’s not sure about and a pretty, perfect straight girl who couldn’t possibly be into her...right??? The sequel to the very cute Simon vs. the Homo Sapiens Agenda, Leah on the Offbeat pulls a The Godfather: Part II with its messy protagonist, sweetly surprising romance, and masterful comic set piece involving the Atlanta American Girl Doll restaurant.

17. Copper Sun by Sharon M. Draper (2006)

Kidnapped from her home in eighteenth-century Ghana, fifteen-year-old Amari is sold into slavery and winds up on a South Carolina plantation, where she faces terrible cruelty but finds friends in an enslaved cook, her little son, and eventually a sulky white indentured servant around her age. When their master escalates his already-atrocious behavior, the three young people flee south to the Spanish Fort Mose in search of freedom. Draper’s complicated characters, vivid descriptions, and deft handling of heavy subjects makes for top-notch historical YA fiction.

16. A Prince on Paper by Alyssa Cole (2019)

After her controlling politician father was jailed for poisoning a bunch of people in their small, prosperous African country, Nya Jerami gained unprecedented freedom but also became the subject of vicious gossip. Johan von Braustein, the hard-partying stepson of a European monarch, wants to help her, partly because he sympathizes and partly because he has a crush, but she thinks he’s too frivolous and horny (if wildly attractive). After an embarrassing misunderstanding compels them to enter a fake engagement, though, she begins to wonder if there’s more to him. I’m not a huge fan of contemporary romance, but this novel has the perfect combination of heartfelt emotion, delicious melodrama, and adorable fluff. 

15. One Perfect Rose by Mary Jo Putney (1997)

Stephen, the Duke of Ashburton, has always done the proper and responsible thing, but that all changes when he learns that he’s terminally ill. Wandering the countryside in the guise of an ordinary gentleman, he ends up joining an acting troupe and falling in love with Rosalind, the sensible adopted daughter of the two lead actors. Like another Regency romance on this list, this novel celebrates love in many forms: there’s the love story between Stephen and Rosalind, yes, but there’s also Rosalind’s loving relationship with her adopted family, the new bonds she forms with her long-lost blood relatives, the way her two families embrace the increasingly frightened Stephen, and the healing rifts between Stephen and his well-meaning but distant siblings. Stephen’s reconciliation with his mortality is also moving.

14. My One and Only Duke by Grace Burrowes (2018)

Facing a death sentence in Newgate, footman-turned-prosperous banker Quinton Wentworth decides to do one last good thing: marry Jane McGowan, a poor pregnant widow, so she and the baby will be financially set. Then he receives a pardon and a dukedom at the literal last minute, meaning that he and Jane have a more permanent arrangement than either intended. I fell in love with the kind-but-difficult protagonists almost at once, and with Burrowes’s gorgeous prose even faster. 

13. Eleanor and Park by Rainbow Rowell (2013)

It’s 1986, and comics-loving, post-punk-listening, half-Korean Park and bright, weird, constantly bullied Eleanor are just trying to get through high school in their rough Omaha neighborhood. He’s only grudgingly willing to let her share his bus seat at first, but this barely civil acquaintance slowly thaws into friendship and blossoms into love. Far from being the whimsical eighties-nostalgia-fest I expected, this is a bittersweet love story about two isolated young people who find love, belonging, and a chance for self-expression with each other in an often-hostile environment (a small miracle pre-Internet).

12. Shrill by Lindy West (2016)

In this memoir, Lindy West talks about the difficulties of being a fat woman, the thankless task of being vocally less-than-enthused about rape jokes, the joys of moving past self-doubt, and the very real possibility that Little John from Disney’s Robin Hood was played by “bear actor” Baloo, among other subjects. I was having a hard time during my last semester of law school this past spring, and this book’s giddy humor and inspiring messages really helped me in my hour of need.

11. Seduction: Sex, Lies, and Stardom in Howard Hughes's Hollywood by Karina Longworth (2018)

In 1925, very young businessman Howard Hughes breezed into Hollywood with nothing but tons of family wealth, a soon-to-be-divorced wife, and a simple dream: make movies about fast planes and big bosoms. He got increasingly weird and reactionary over the next thirty years, then retired from public life. More a history of 1920s-1950s Hollywood than a biography, this book has the same sharp writing and in-depth film analysis that makes me love Longworth’s podcast You Must Remember This.

10. The Beguiled by Thomas Cullinan (1966)

In Civil-War-era Virginia, iron-willed Martha Farnsworth and her nervous younger sister try to run their nearly empty girls’ boarding school within earshot of a battlefield. When one girl finds Union soldier John McBurney injured in the woods, she brings him back to the house, where he exploits every conflict and secret among the eight girls and women (five students, two sisters, and one enslaved cook). Charming and manipulative, he nevertheless finds himself in over his head. Cullinan makes great use of the eight POVs and the deliciously claustrophobic setting; it’s fascinating to watch the power dynamics and allegiances shift from scene to scene.

9. A Gentleman Never Keeps Score by Cat Sebastian (2018)

Reserved tavern keeper Sam Fox wants to help out his brother’s sweetheart by finding and destroying a nude portrait she once sat for; disgraced gentleman Hartley Sedgwick isn’t sure what he wants after having his life ruined twice over, but he happened to inherit his house from the man who commissioned the painting...plus he’s not exactly reluctant to assist kind, handsome Sam in his quest. I wrote about this heart-melting romance two times last year; suffice it to say that it’s not only one of the best Regencies I’ve ever read, but also possibly the best romance I’ve ever read about the creation of a found family.

8. Frog Music by Emma Donoghue (2014)

Blanche Beunon, a French-born burlesque dancer in 1876 San Francisco, has a lot going on: her mooching boyfriend has turned on her, her sick baby is missing, and her cross-dressing, frog-hunting friend Jenny Bonnet was just shot dead right next to her. In the middle of a heat wave, a smallpox epidemic, and a little bit of mob violence, she must locate her son and solve Jenny’s murder. This is a glorious work of historical fiction; you can see, hear, smell, and feel the chaotic world of 1870s San Francisco, plus Blanche’s character arc is amazing.

7. The Patrick Melrose novels (Never Mind, Bad News, Some Hope, Mother’s Milk, and At Last) by Edward St. Aubyn (1992, 1992, 1994, 2005, and 2012, respectively)

Born to an embittered English aristocrat and an idealistic American heiress, Patrick Melrose lives through his father’s sadistic abuse and his mother’s willful blindness (Never Mind),  does a truly staggering amount of drugs in early adulthood (Bad News), and makes a good-faith effort at leading a normal life (Some Hope). Years later, the life he’s built with his wife and two sons is threatened by his alcoholism and reemerging resentment of his mother (Mother’s Milk), but there may be a chance to salvage something (At Last). Despite the suffering and cruelty on display, these novels were the farthest thing from a dismaying experience, thanks to the sharp characterization, grim humor, and great sense of setting. Also, I love little Robert Melrose, an anxious eldest child after my own heart. 

6. The Perilous Gard by Elizabeth Marie Pope (1974)

In 1550s England, no-nonsense Kate Sutton is exiled to the Perilous Gard, a remote castle occupied by suspicious characters, including the lord’s guilt-ridden younger brother Christopher. Troubled by the holes she sees in the story of the tragedy that haunts him, she does some problem-solving and ends up in a world of weird shit. Cleverly plotted, deliciously spooky, and featuring an all-time-great heroine, this book was an absolute treat. The beautiful Richard Cuffari illustrations in my edition didn’t hurt, either.

5. An Unconditional Freedom by Alyssa Cole (2019)

Daniel Cumberland, a free black man from New England traumatized from being sold into slavery, and Janeta Sanchez, a mixed-race Cuban-Floridian lady from a white Confederate family, have been sent on a mission to the Deep South by the Loyal League, a pro-Union spy organization. Initially hostile to everyone (but particularly to somewhat naive Janeta), Daniel warms to his colleague, but will her secrets, his shattered faith in justice, and the various dangers they face prevent them from falling in love? Nah. Alyssa Cole’s historical romances deliver both on the history and the romance, and this is one of her strongest entries.

4. The Lady’s Guide to Celestial Mechanics by Olivia Waite (2019)

Heartbroken by the death of her father and the marriage of her ex-girlfriend, Lucy Muchelney decides she needs a change of scenery and takes a live-in position translating a French astronomy text for Catherine St. Day, the recently widowed Countess of Moth. Catherine, used to putting her interests on hold for an uncaring spouse, is intrigued by this awkward, independent lady. I’ve read f/f romances before, but this sparkling Regency was the first to really blow me away with its fun banter, neat historical details, and perfect sexual tension.

3. The Wager by Donna Jo Napoli (2010)

After losing his entire fortune to a tidal wave, Sicilian nineteen-year-old Don Giovanni de la Fortuna sinks into poverty and near-starvation. Then Devil makes him an offer: all the money he wants for as long as he lives if he doesn’t bathe, cut his hair, shave, or change his clothes for three years, three months, and three days. This fairy-tale retelling is an extraordinarily moving fable about someone who learns to acknowledge his own suffering, recognize it in others, and extend compassion to all. 

2. Vampires in the Lemon Grove by Karen Russell (2013)

In this collection, Russell weaves strange tales of silkworm-women hybrids in Japan, seagulls who collect objects from the past and future, and, yes, vampires in the lemon grove. She also posits the very important question: “What if most (but not all) U.S. presidents were reincarnated as horses in the same stable and had a lot of drama going on?” My favorite stories were “Proving Up” (about a nineteenth-century Nebraska boy who encounters death and horror on the prairie), “The Graveless Doll of Eric Mutis” (about a disadvantaged high school student who discovers an effigy of the even more hapless boy he tormented), and “The Barn at the End of the Term” (the horse-president story). 

1. The Wonder by Emma Donoghue (2016)

Lib Wright, an Englishwoman who has floundered since her days working for Florence Nightingale during the Crimean War, is hired to observe Anna O’Donnell, an eleven-year-old Irish girl famous for not eating for four straight months. With a jaundiced attitude towards the Irish and Catholicism, Lib is confident that she’ll quickly expose Anna as a fraud, but she finds herself liking the girl and getting increasingly drawn into the disturbing mystery of her fast. Like The Perilous Gard, this novel masterfully plays with the possibility of the supernatural, then introduces a technically mundane explanation that’s somehow much more eerie. Donoghue balances the horror and waste that surrounds Anna, though, with the clear, bright prose and the moving relationship that develops between her and Lib, who grows beyond her narrow-mindedness and emotional numbness. I stayed up half the night to finish this novel, which cemented Emma Donoghue’s status as my new favorite author.

[angelic-writer]

Ministrysona OCs

Mia Hamspon

Age: 27

Sex: Female

Role: The Sword

Powers: Telepathy, Precognition and Magic

Personality: She is a cheerful girl who enjoys life to the fullest. She likes to tease the other field agents, especially Adam and Victor. She used to be pretty shy when she was first employed, but over time, she became an open book. She always hangs out with her friends Bianca, Mary and Catherine. She has a knack for horror and loves to draw. She always shares her artwork with Mary and they spend time praising and critiquing each other’s artwork. She always tries to get Bianca to go out with someone, but due to Bianca’s chronic shyness towards boys, it took her a lot of work. She likes to play video games and she is always seen playing on her PSP. She is especially seen playing Corpse Party all the time.

She also likes to talk about the multiverse theory and is interested in philosophy. Sometimes, her conversations go to deep topics like how much life is truly worth living for and even the possibility of life outside our universe. Maybe it has something to do with the fact that she can see into the future. She also is taking an interest in Rune-Crafting...

Backstory: Mia lived a relatively normal life, although she discovered at the age of 10 that she can see into the future and read minds. At the age of 17, she had a horrifying vision of a shadow taking over the entire English countryside. She tried to warn her friends about the vision, but nobody believed her. Soon, the shadow appeared and almost consumed the entire world. Mia was kidnapped by cult leaders and was about to be killed when two men saved her. One of them was wearing a trench coat and the other was wearing a black waistcoat and a trilby hat. Mia’s ankle had been twisted during the scuffle, so The Ministry Man bandaged her up and dropped her off to a safe place: One of the untainted towns. After that, the shadow was successfully banished. However, Mia, along with the rest of the country, seemed to have lost all memory of the events that happened. All she had was a vague image of what the man who saved her looked like. Over the years, she had grown enamored with her savior. She kept having dreams about him saving her and it always ended whenever she was about to touch his hand. She didn’t know his name. All she had was a vague image of his face and the sound of his voice. Wanting to hold onto that memory, she drew a picture of him. She didn’t know the man, but… He looked so familiar to her.

10 years later, she was employed by the Ministry. She was excited about the idea of being in a secret society and for a while, it was like a dream come true. But, when a certain Badger spilled the beans, she felt ready to punch him in the face. She usually hung out with three other girls. Mary Adams, Bianca Walker and Catherine Anderson. She decided, as cliche as it would be, to call her group “The Ministry Girls.” During her many adventures with the other field agents, mainly with Adam and Victor, she would meet several people, including Mike Badger and Chris Cobern. However, her meeting Chris for the first time gave her a sense of... familiarity.

She also would have several interactions with Doctor Diablerie and Kelly would often sass and insult him. She told Mia that since the Ministry hadn’t seen Trilby for 10 years, they considered him to be dead. Mia doesn’t believe that he is dead and started looking into what happened ten years ago. The things that she discovered jogged her memory about what happened...

Appearance: She has long, wavy brown hair and bright brown eyes. Her hair is put up into a half ponytail. She wears a long-sleeved white shirt with a green vest and a purple collar with light blue stripes, a red tie, a short, green plaid skirt, and black shoes with long, black socks. She has a white purse slung on her shoulder and she was holding a cell phone in her right hand. Sticking out of her unzipped purse were a pair of white ear buds.

Mary Adams

Age: 26

Sex: Female

Role: The Scroll

Powers: She has the ability to see spirits along with her brother. That ability was passed down from her mother to the two siblings. Later, she gained the ability to be possessed by spirits, mostly her mother. Malicious spirits tried to take over her, but due to her mother’s influence, she was protected. She is also immune to certain powers like hypnosis.

Personality: She is an ambitious girl who aims for big projects. She has a tendency to work for hours on end. The other agents tell her to take a break, but she doesn’t listen. Whenever she is not in the office, she is drawing in her sketchbook. She looks like she doesn’t talk much, but whenever she’s with the “Ministry Girls”, she likes to talk about what she’s working on. She appears to be working on a manga. “Some sort of Japanese comic book” as Victor would call it. Mary would be a bit sassy with him whenever they would interact.

Backstory: Her mother and father were part of the Ministry before they had the two children. Sadly, her mother died during childbirth and Mary’s father is left to care for her and her brother. When she was a child, she went to her father saying that she had something to tell him.

“Really? What did you want to tell me?” He asked her.

With a beaming face, she answered. “I saw Mummy while I was doing my schoolwork! She helped me with the problems I was having trouble with!”

Her father froze. T-This isn’t possible... There’s no way that she can see her... She’s dead... Unless...

“Mary... Can you tell me who else can you see?”

“Eh? Well, I see some kids playing around in the park... And sometimes, I see old people sitting on benches... I mostly see them at night.”

He realized what Mary was talking about. She can see spirits, just like her mother.

Soon, when they were teenagers, Mary and her brother were taken to the monastary where they worked to hone their skills. Soon, they were picked up by the Ministry of Occultism. She met Mia, Catherine and Bianca and they became a tight-knit group of friends. She doesn’t think much of it, but her ability to see ghosts worked out in the agents’ favor as she is able to see malicious spirits and get information so they can exorcise them.

Appearance: She has long, curly black hair and blue eyes. She was wearing a white, long-sleeved dress shirt with a black, buttoned-up jacket, a short, green skirt, black tights on her legs and grey boots. She has a sketchbook in her arms.

Bianca Walker

Age: 22

Sex: Female

Role: The Sword

Powers: She has the ability to control magic, although she can’t use it due to her weak body. Whenever she uses it, it puts strain on her body and she needs to rest for a while before she can use it again. It was rumored that she has a great amount of power due to her Ancient, but her superiors tell her that she should not use it under any circumstances.

Personality: She is a typical young woman with self-esteem issues and a little depression. She loves romance and is a hopeless romantic. She often imagines herself with a partner that she wants to spend the rest of her life with, but she is doubtful about it due to her being insecure. She is just a person trying to figure out who she is. She is very shy and has a hard time talking to boys. The only people she can talk properly to are Mia, Mary and Catherine. She has a big crush on Victor, but every time she would talk to him, she would always stutter. Victor would always tell her to “stop stuttering and make a proper sentence.” Although she won’t admit it, the way that Victor looks at her and talks about her... It made her heart race.

Backstory: She was diagnosed with arrhythmia since she was born. Her parents told her that she shouldn’t do any strenuous exercise or else her heart would beat too fast. Since her heart was prone to beat abnormally, she would often stay inside and have her best friend, Catherine, over at her apartment. There were a couple of instances where Bianca almost died due to her heart giving out. Once was at the primary school and the second was at the secondary school. Those heart attacks had one thing in common. It was because of her Ancient who would come out if Bianca is being mistreated. Bianca doesn’t like her Ancient doing that because her being possessed puts a large amount of strain on her body which is not good for her heart. Eventually, Catherine let her stay over at her place after her second attack and Bianca referred to her as her best friend after that.

Eventually, when she was employed by the Ministry of Occultism (Later called the Department of Interdimensional Affairs), she met Mia and Mary. Through spending time with them, she slowly started to develop a friendship with them. And then, she started to develop a crush on Victor Cassen. She manages to talk to him through her nervous bumbling. At first, it was awkward, but eventually, they started to hang out normally. But, Bianca knows about Victor’s unsympathetic views on people who carry the taint of an Ancient. Since she has an Ancient of her own, she is scared about what he would think.

Appearance: She has long, straight black hair and blue eyes. She was wearing a purple shirt with a black trenchcoat over it and black pants. She has a sapphire necklace around her neck.

@pepper-somerset @pk-sonica-omega @otter-wraith

[sabbathism]

People don’t like season 2, and here’s what they have to say :

tl;dr: I answer the web’s most vehement complaints about season 2 of American Gods. If you happen to recognize yourself in one of those, then I suggest thinking about it really really hard and, perhaps, giving the show another chance. If you recognize yourself in several of those, please drop the show. It’s not worth wasting your time and especially not ours. (I put a list of helpful cast and production related facts at the end.)

Hi, Nelle here, I’m but a humble fan who wishes to have fun seeing gods bicker and argue among mortals, complete with the craziest of situations, stellar cast and great visuals. And yet I can’t help but hear things when I start browsing this hellsite in quest of juicy fanworks.

Although I’m no Joan Of Arc, I hear voices from above and here’s what I have to shout back (lest I get burned at the stake)  :

“The pacing is all over the place ! It’s too slow !”

Is it tho ? Pacing has been “all over the place” (really meaning: different from what we avid show-viewers are accustomed to) since season 1, we’ve never gotten straight answers out of anything unless we started listening and paying attention to details. 

The book (you know, the source material) has four parts, the fourth serving as an epilogue to the whole story, season 2 is most definitely meant to close part 1 which, allegedly, had the slowest of pace to begin with. And it doesn’t even have half the new narratives the show has been creating. So no, it’s not slow. I promise you things are happening.

“It needs to follow the actual book more !!”

What’s a good adaptation ? Is it something that is 100% truthful to the source, down to every word ? Is it something that should offer something for people who don’t know the source ? Or, on the contrary, be something inseparable from it ?

American Gods as a TV show offers new things for people who have read the book and for those who haven’t, while keeping the beloved moments and aspects from the original material.

Why add or change stuff ? Well because, if you’re a book reader, you get welcomed into the state of existential dread that comes with not knowing what happen next, I promise it’s part of the fun. But also because author Neil Gaiman believes that he can do more, do better, with something that was written 20 years ago and needed the changes in a lot of places. He’s aware that he has, in fact, a show to make, and not a carbon copy of the book, as well as a fanbase that deserves to be challenged and entertained.

“Why taking the focus off Shadow ? He’s barely the protagonist anymore !”

Because there are..... characters ? who are also part of the story ? Like, actual stories need characters ? But alright, I know it can get confusing when you have a lot of those, here’s how you can still tell Shadow is the protagonist : months of advertising and the entirety of season 1 which was spent following Shadow with only minor breaks allowing other characters to breathe. Trust me they need the development too, or then we’ll really have reasons to complain.

You want a narrative focusing solely on staying in Shadow’s head ? Alright. Try the book. But here’s my take on its narrating choice, as a graduate in english literature : it’s boring. To the point where Neil Gaiman himself got sad that he couldn’t follow other characters.

“They’re not giving the POCs enough space ! Where are the coming to america segments ? At least they gave actual insights.”

Out of every piece of fiction, I truly don’t think you want to get angry at American Gods for how much room it’s giving POCs... (a 20% white cast ensemble, POCs and especially WOCs writers and directors on production, ethnically accurate casting and writing, diversity positive messages, etc) Really I’m sure there are many other places in the fictional industry were the question of diversity is more than legitimate. American Gods has yet to be one of them, by far.

As for the Coming To America stuff, well, there’s not that many in the book to begin with. There are a whole bunch for sure, but we’ve got over quite a few of them in season 1. If there’s more believers you want, we’re served with the latest episode 4, with humans worshiping both Old and New, and interacting with gods. I’m sure we can review that point again once the season is over.

“Those white directors don’t even know how to read or write POC characters !”

*cough*

here’s a list of the POC directors and writers on episodes 2 to 5 of season 2 only :

Deborah Chow (director)

Aditi Kapil (writer)

Salli Richardson (director)

Rodney Barnes (writer)

Orlando Jones (writer)

That’s half the entire director-writer team for these episodes, with Neil Gaiman being involved. You’ll have to point out to me exactly what you mean by “not writing right”.

“New Media ? 1. she’s a bitch, 2. her actress is just plain bad, 3. she’s a hurtful stereotype.” 

And here comes perhaps the trickiest one of all... I’m gonna have to bear with you, as much as you’re gonna have to bear with me :

1. Yes. 2. No. 3. Yes, and it’s a problem, but not for the reasons you think.

First of all, and let’s get it out of the way : actor =/= character nor writing. You think the writing is bad and/or that the character is annoying ? Well, it’s certainly not on the actor. You wanna know the actual level of Kahyun Kim’s acting ? Starring in an Alan Cummings play alongside him. We’ve got a lot to discuss but please keep her out of this.

Second, New Media is an absolute bitch of a character. She’s mocking, manipulative, and too ambitious for anyone’s good. A lot of people seem to love her tho and to that I say good ??? I mean, great if you like her, because she’s got as much potential as the rest of these crazy characters, I’m not here to tell you who you should hate and who you should love.

But there’s a problem you shouldn’t ignore, and that its so far she’s not well written. It’s a terrible thing to say in such a show but she’s really not : because we barely see her talking, because we barely got any scene with her (remember what I said about letting character breathe ?), and because what we’ve seen of her so far is the stereotype of the hypersexualized naive asian girl. Complete with tentacle porn scene. (Whether you felt weirded out, amused or utterly disgusted by this is your own valid opinion.)

The character has been officially described as “the goddess of global content”, “a cyberspace chameleon” and “a master of manipulation.” In recent addition to that, actor Bruce Langley (Technical Boy) has said : “New Media’s willing to be perceived as naive because if she’s being underestimated, when she does make her move, you’d never see it coming, but she knows way more than she lets on.” He then goes on to compare her to Gillian Anderson’s Media.

This proves that the way New Media comes off isn’t a problem of intent (the naive part is calculated and they want the character to be duplicitous, falsely seductive), but of handling, and it’s just as bad. Sure, Gillian’s Media also knew more than she let on for about as much screen time -I’m sure New Media will get to her four scenes in one season-, but she had been grounded in the narrative as her own character, she’s had her exposition speech and time. (See her meeting with Shadow in S01E02) We’ve yet to see that much of Kahyun’s New Media.

Because they do not give her what she needs to be more than a two dimensional character, we find ourselves with a shallow character who doesn’t give too many signs of the thought process everyone seemed to have put into crafting her beforehand, including Kahyun’s acting. This is a serious issue that needs to be handled before the season ends, or she will just stand out like a nasty spot in an overall incredible piece of fiction. Hell even Laura (another very unlikable character) manages to be a great addition to the narrative. Come on people.

You can of course argue that they could have gone for another type or personality for her, other than naive and sex-oriented, for a korean actress to play. You’re right, there’s a lot of aspect of social media that could have been put to work, but not only are we gonna need more than two scenes (at least the tentacles aren’t a regular occurrence so far), but it’s just like they could have not made the Technical Boy hang Shadow. 

The New Gods appear as the ‘general bad idea’ we promote through and associate with their element. Mr. World is gonna be the creepy looking government dude, Tech is gonna be the lanky rude geek, they’re gonna be cold, insensitive and selfish. They’re gonna be the things we don’t like. Throughout season 1, Tech Boy was in the same place we find ourselves in with New Media : he was the loud white racist teenager hating on anon on the net, he was unlikable from start to finish, and it’s only once we got inputs from his actor, the writers, and then now that they’re showing more of his story and personality well after season 1 that we see him as the fully complex and interesting character he is.

Let’s all keep our wits about us, not engulf ourselves in blind hate or love, and encourage the writers to prove us all that this character is worth the while like her actress says.

(I still won’t forgive the bitch, but at least she won’t stick out like a sore thumb.)

(if you want Kahyun’s input on her character and experience, here’s a lengthy interview)

"They don't even know how to write their own character, period !"

By all means, tell me your basis of characterization to declare that characters who didn’t even have enough screentime to have much substance in season 1 (except Shadow, but strangely no one complains about him) aren’t written right when their creator is literally hovering over the writers and actors shoulders, because he wants them to be developed and written right.

It’s not Harry Potter, Neil isn’t making up facts about them to make himself look better, maybe accept that the vision you had in your mind wasn’t entirely accurate to the truth of the characters and that’s okay ? You can still write them yourself however you want, tell the stories you want to tell, Neil has made it very clear that he doesn’t consider fan ideas less valuable than his.

“Bryan has such as specific, unique vision ! They’re just trying to copy it and they’re failing.”

Definitely. No really, you’re right, I’m a big fan of Bryan’s work, I lost my mind like everyone else when he said he wasn’t giving up on Hannibal season 4.

But you know who else has a unique vision ? The seven directors who took over (four of those are women) and the show-runner who had already worked with him beforehand. They’re not trying to copy his style, they’re trying to make a smooth transition so fans like you don’t have a hard time mourning the terrible loss of Bryan and Michael. And for every person who noticed the changes, there were just as many who haven’t even paid attention to it.

Concept : some people may watch shows/movies for the story and the characters, not just for who’s behind the camera. (As far as I’m concerned, I actually like the image better. Everything was killer in season 1, and I think it’s even nicer in season 2.)

“Bryan gave us Salim and the Jinn, and now they’re just gonna be cast aside because those directors lack the LGBT+ sensibility Bryan has !”

Alright, yup, sure. As a member of the community myself, I totally recognize that someone who’s also part of it will know firsthand of the subtleties and details to give the best representation possible on screen. The example of Salim and the Jinn is perfectly fine, since the entire segment was indeed beautifully made. But if we cannot allow people from outside to ponder and think about our lives through writing (which is probably the best way for them to start understanding and broadening their mindset), how can we expect wide representation to improve in any meaningful way ? Especially considering that the show has been casting LGBT+ actors, in an environment where the cast is listened to and solicited on their opinions. 

And especially when Bryan was not the one who gave you Salim and the Jinn. (Because I’ve seen people genuinely believe it.) Neil Gaiman did. He wrote a gay muslim couple in his book 20 years ago, way before it was considered a political statement. He’s also the one who gave strict and specific directions as to how these very characters should be handled. Because if he expanded Salim and his fire boyfriend Jinn’s story from a one-shot to a full story integrated into his entire narration, then it’s certainly not to pull a “bury your gays” or make them miserable. No need to be LGBT+ to be a decent writer and human being.

“Production was a mess anyway, I knew it’d turn out like this. It sucks without Bryan.” 

Define “mess”. Because all the incendiary reports we got throughout early production had been utter bullshit.

Showrunners being “fired” ? Bullshit. “Disastrous” organization ? Bullshit. “Screaming matches” between directors and actors ? Bullshit. Actors “refusing” to come back ? Bullshit.

Every report that wasn’t made through direct input of the cast or production team was not only wildly exaggerated, but also fake ? But please, hear it from Neil himself :

It was weirder for me to read some of the stuff online that said, “Oh, my god, American Gods, behind the scenes, is all falling apart.” I was going, “But they just shot four episodes, and everything is fine. They’re doing some re-shoots, but they’re doing less re-shoots than they did in Season 1.” [...]

I was reading Steven Bochco’s biography on the tube, going into work on Good Omens, every morning, and learning about what went down on Hill Street Blues, and then on NYPD Blue. That was worse, by a factor of thousands, than anything that happened on American Gods. A showrunner came, and a showrunner left. That’s not even an unusual thing. [...] The weirdest thing for me was putting out a thing on Twitter on Season 2, and having a bunch of people go, “We thought this was canceled.” No, it’s not canceled. In its own mad way, it’s on schedule.  

(Source)

The show was never in any danger, much less in jeopardy. It's overreactions to false rumors and dramatic assumptions that can kill a show faster than a showrunner leaving. You want to be critical of a production ? Go ahead, and check your sources and facts. Please. I promise most of the time it’s not worth the worry, much less losing all hope.

“Bryan cared, they’re just ruining what he’s built.”

I dare you to watch any cast interview and tell me these people don’t care about the show, and that they do not value the work everyone else (from hair department to makeup artists, producers, writers, directors and costume team) puts into it as well.

I’ve watched my fair share of shows, I’m curious about production and behind-the-scenes material in general, and I’ve never seen a group of people being so genuinely happy and passionate about what they do and create together.

Neil took time out of preparing Good Omens (which he was showrunning himself) to be more active because he knew things would be different between season 1 and 2. Ricky Whittle (Shadow) had his contract reviewed to better accommodate shooting and planning. Orlando Jones (Nancy) contributed to writing episodes (especially regarding Black history and representation) and brought inputs on characterization. Ian Mcshane (Mr. Wednesday) participated in directing when he explicitly said during season 1 that he wasn’t interested in working as a director on this kind of show.

And that’s for the well-known names only. Go on the American Gods hashtag on instagram, you’ll find all the various artists who participated in crafting all the details found in new episodes. They’re out there talking about how excited they were to work on it all, how they did it, the love they have for the show and crew. They’re active and positive in every way you can be, please tell me how much they don’t care.

Production made the choice of taking its time making this season rather than rushing it when it’s been very clear that delaying can cause massive loss of viewers, because they care more about how the show comes out than what people actually think. They took in stride whatever problem a show of this magnitude could naturally encounter (again guys, no disaster happened) and worked to solve it the best way they could because they were perfectly aware that we fans care. And somehow that’s what made some of yall disappointed ??

If you seriously think Bryan (and Michael, some people forget about him smh) cared more about American Gods than these people -when he, in fact, cared just as much-, then by all means, leave right with him.

(Also uhm, idk if you noticed, but they’re both still credited in the fucking opening. Because, you know, they’re going by the bases they’ve settled.)

Some (hopefully) helpful facts :

+ Bryan and Michael weren’t fired, they walked out of the show after mutual understanding with the rest of the production that they weren’t agreeing on budget and realization. They concluded that pushing it would just be harmful to the show.

+ Likewise, Jesse Alexander (second showrunner) wasn’t evicted but stepped out once disagreements rose as to how to handle the end of the season. Again, they found a solution fairly quickly.

+ Gillian Anderson had only signed for season 1. Whether her character will ever be seen again (probably in flashbacks) is entirely up in the air. No promises, no impossibilities.

+ Both Kristin Chenoweth (Ostara) and Chris Obi (Anubis) have not been able to contribute to season 2 due to conflicts in their schedules.

+ Neil Gaiman has been much more involved in the production of season 2 as he had finished shooting Good Omens, something which took up most of his time when season 1 was produced.

+ Taking time producing a show =/= production being a disaster.

+ Always go for the reports/articles involving interviews and/or inputs of the persons actually working on the project (cast members, producers, writers, directors). Those are the most reliable sources you can fight. (Just remember that there’s always a possibility for fake news/drama online !)

[donnerpartyofone]

21 Questions

Tagged by @getoutofmyhouse who had oddly similar answers to mine

Nickname: only the one I use here, that I gave myself--Claire Donner, which has to do with my famous love of cannibalism. Claire is my real first name, though.

Zodiac: I am so very cuspy. I was born at about a quarter to midnight on April 20, so I tend to relate to, and feel insulted by, the suppositions about Aries and Taurus equally. I’m one of those jerks who will tell you astrology is a bunch of hoo ha...and then drone on with my Many Esoteric Ideas about it, so I’ll just stop myself right here.

Height: 5’ nuthin is what I prefer to say...because saying I’m 5 and 3/4′ sounds a little like saying I’m 10 and a half years old.

Amount of sleep: It’s all fucked up. Until I got into my 30s I could, and would prefer to, sleep endlessly. Now I go to bed around 10 (depression), get up around 5 or 6 (being old), and for extra fun, I’ve developed this insomnia that often keeps me up from about 2am-5am. I try make the most of it by getting up, getting high, watching a movie or two, writing...basically just having a secret private day by myself. I’d really rather go back to just sleeping constantly though.

Last movie I saw: I saw GRETA in theaters tonight, which was ok. I guess I thought any Neil Jordan film would be headier than this, but watching Isabel Huppert just running around acting like an absolute maniac is a rare treat! My last video experience was RAW, which I put on to bother my husband right when we got home from the theater. (I think he liked it more than I originally did, to my surprise)

Last thing I googled: The correct spelling of Sylvia Likens’ last name. I’m obsessed with this type of crime where a group of people (usually a family and/or some of their friends and neighbors) fall into some kind of shared hysteria where they protractedly torture to death an acquaintance for no particular reason. Some times there’s an element of mystery as to why the victim didn’t leave while they were still able to, which suggests to me that the murdered person was just as much a victim of the groupthink as the perpetrators. Other example victims include Suzanne Capper, Vera Jo Reigle, and I think to some degree Sophie Lionnet, James Bulger, and Junko Furuta. (Also a crime they briefly discuss in the book Lords of Chaos, where several people murder a friend in their trailer, but I can’t remember it specifically enough to look up the names--the other last thing i tried to google) I keep thinking there should be a psychiatric and/or legal term for this kind of crime, but I’ve never heard one, so let me know if you got one!

Favorite musician: I have trouble with questions that involve ranking anything, so I’ll just say that right now I’m listening to a lot of old White Zombie. I didn’t know anything about their origins as an East Village noise band, and I’m fascinated by the stories about how apocalyptically miserable it was to be in that group. I’m increasingly obsessed with people who work their asses off doing something they barely even enjoy, for what must be borderline spiritual reasons.

Song stuck in my head: Nothing right this second, for which I am very grateful. There’s something awful in my brain that causes me to wake up with some maddening, babyish tune stuck in my head more often than not. It is most frequently the Ten Little Indians nursery rhyme. This is literally killing me.

Other blogs: @anhed-nia, which started as a dumping ground for long posts about mental illness, and turned into almost only movie writing. at some point there was just so much movie shit that i started to feel awkward about posting anything personal there again. i also got @getoffyrass which is a group blog, and a repository for images that make great drawing references. everyone is encouraged to post their drawings, too, although it is seldom used. i still like having it around, for when i have time to draw. my “real” drawing blog is @neveratendermoment but i don’t draw often enough anymore...

Do I get asks: i used to get tons! i really enjoy them, even the trolls to some degree. i must have seemed like more of a regular tumblr geek girl back in the day. also tumblr has just changed a lot since then. my blog was definitely a casualty of Best Stuff First, i think my follower count stopped dead forever right when that happened, and now that practically every single fucking thing on this entire site is either fandom shit or *discourse*, i really have nothing to offer tumblr anymore, anyway.

Blogs following: 1,057. 

Lucky numbers: 2! Also 5.

What I’m wearing: black wool long john pants from Chrome, and a white v neck teeshirt with the words BLACK MAYONNAISE on it in black Rocky Horror font. i live near the notoriously toxic Gowanus Canal, and “black mayonnaise” is the actual term used to describe what’s on the bottom of it, by the scientists who are trying to figure out what to do with it.

Dream trip: i am really excited by travel, it’s hard to pick. i’m hopefully making a dream trip soon though: my father’s mysterious finno-swedish family is from the åland islands, and my husband and i will be planning part of our honeymoon there, whenever that happens.

Dream Job: i think about this a lot, because the older i get, the more i object to the entire concept of having to work to live. i’m into the whole universal basic income thing. i’m at this point where i can barely stand to think about capitalism in any way--like i think about how the need for money is so mortally serious that there’s a lot of physical stuff in the world that only exists because someone was scared of starving, tons of useless products and packaging and factory byproducts and all kinds of fucking straight up garbage that was only invented due to the lethality of poorness. i would rather be left totally alone forever if possible. however, if i HAD to do something and i COULD do anything, it would probably be film criticism. this fantasy takes place in a world where people care so much about what i have to say that i can make a career, not only out of movie writing, but out of only writing about the specific movies i want to write about, referring to nothing other than my personal reactions.

Favorite food: i wish the answer weren’t just “cheese”, but it probably is. also mushrooms. anything cinnamon. i’m a pretty adventurous eater though. the most important thing for me is a variety of flavors and textures.

Languages: english. i took several years of italian in junior high-high school, and did nothing with it. i taught myself to read french pretty fluently, but i would fold right up if someone tried to speak to me. i learned a bunch of swedish on duolingo, shoulda kept it up. i’ll get back to it! i really regret never learning spanish though, so i’m easily torn on what to do with my time.

Play any instruments: clarinet in junior high/high school, also alto sax which i did not enjoy at all, a little guitar. i bought a used electric bass last year that i have really been enjoying, but i feel a lot of guilt around not playing enough. so much of it is just strength training. that’s probably what i like about it, though. also i got a lot of electronic music software and midi controllers and stuff...and then i realized that it could take me months to sort through the thousands of samples i have to program this stuff, and i only got so far into it before i started to get discouraged. i need to get back to it, it’s ridiculous to let that stuff lie around. this is a rare example of me wishing i knew someone local to play with, who could speed me along on how everything works.

Favorite songs: another one of these impossible questions! anybody who is even reading this can probably guess the answers from the handful of music posts i reblog over and over and over. the other night i got all hyperactive and forced my husband to drop everything and listen to “buffalo stance” by nene cherry, which i never ever get sick of. real top contenders for favorite song might be “Stand By the Jamms” by the klf, and this recording, which has gotten me through many difficult hours:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=d8k1HsF3EvY

https://www.forcedexposure.com/Catalog/sunray-sonic-boom-music-for-the-dreamachine-cd/STRAWB.003CD.html

Random fact: i’m sure i’m missing out on something really funny and cool, but for now it’s just the well-known fact that i read palms.

Describe yourself as aesthetic thing: man, how do i answer this without being totally pretentious? maybe nobody can! i’m coming up with something really hard to describe but it will be worth it. the other day i watched this insane, completely unnecessary movie about lorca and salvador dali (played by robert pattinson) as gay lovers. there’s a scene in it where lorca does that “pick a hand” thing to dali, and dali picks an empty hand. of course, they’re both poor students who couldn’t be buying any gifts, so they do this obnoxious pantomime where dali pretends lorca actually gave him something--but then it turns out that lorca really DOES have something. he opens his other hand and gives dali...SOMETHING. i don’t know what! they make such a big deal out of it, but what the hell? you see it for a second in this closeup, but it’s shot from like, behind and slightly underneath, and it is just unrecognizable. it’s sort of an orange blob? it’s probably meant to be a sculpture. but, i love the idea of doing the “pick a hand” thing to somebody, and the other person is just like...hey wait a minute, what the fuck even IS this?? 

it reminded me of one of the most amazing things anyone ever did at my school, bard college. this genius art student who I WISH I COULD NAME TO CREDIT HER did her senior project as this like...made up product. i saw them at the senior show, hanging off a spinner rack, like you’d see next to the register in the drug store. they were called Toilet Buddies. they were these plastic, brightly colored objects that looked like toys, but they didn’t have a familiar earthly shape, and because of the title, it was IMPOSSIBLE to imagine what to do with them. so, she gets the lipstick cam from the film department, and shoots this video of herself sneaking some Toilet Buddies into Walmart. then she takes them to the register and BUYS THEM--the baffled cashier looks for them for a while, and eventually just rings them up as a general grocery or something. then in part 2, the artist TAKES THEM BACK TO THE STORE WITH THE RECEIPT AND GETS A REFUND.

so anyway, i see myself as like a fake product--something that looks just familiar enough to exit, and that appears to have a designated purpose, but it’s just kind of cheap and foreign and it becomes nightmarish to try to imagine what to do with it. 

I don’t know if anyone i know will want to do this, but i tag @negativepleasure @moviesludge @former-contender @dimestoreman @thefuzzydave @darkarfs @theoddsideofme @blueruins ...um, i don’t really know who would enjoy this. the ultimate would be @garbagenacht

[king-brian-may]

Queen Fans Share Their Stories

Queen in Landover, MD, USA on 29.11.1977 (written by Tracy Chevalier)

In a new book, writers recall the best gigs they have seen. Here the novelist Tracy Chevalier describes her memorable night with Queen.

It started with a champagne toast and ended with a limo pulling away into the night. In between these two gestures symbolising glamour and sophistication, I lost my virginity. Not in the technical sense (that would take another few years), but in other ways. At my first ever rock concert — going with four friends to see Queen at the Capital Centre in November 1977 — I got an eye-opening peek at elements of the adult world, with its power and its limitations, its glittering artifice and dirty reality, and it demonstrated how little I knew and how much I had yet to learn about life.

I was ripe for it; overdue, really. I had turned 15 the month before the concert, and though people thought I looked older than I was, I was remarkably naive and unworldly at that age. Despite a few character-building events in my childhood — the death of my mother when I was almost 8, the experience of being a minority in DC public schools — I was so unsophisticated, so unaware of the world, that I didn't even realise Queen was an English band until the lead singer Freddie Mercury appeared in a tight white catsuit on stage at the Capital Centre, raised a glass of champagne at 18,000 screaming fans, and toasted us with "Good evening, Washington" in a fruity English accent. I was stunned. Then I started screaming.

I had been a Queen fan for a couple of years by then. A Night at the Opera was the first LP I bought, and I could sing every word of every song. I don't remember how I was introduced to Queen — though I do remember hearing their biggest hit, Bohemian Rhapsody, on the radio and being impressed by its audacity. It sure beat the hell out of the Beatles, Bob Dylan and Neil Young, which had been my older sister's staple music diet. By 14, I was writing Queen lyrics on the desk where I sat for algebra class, swapping them back and forth with a boy I had a crush on, and daydreaming of guitarist Brian May kissing me.

The concert was part of Queen's News of the World tour. While not a great album, especially after the double whammy of A Night at the Opera and its follow-up, A Day at the Races, it did produce two of their best-known songs, We Will Rock You and We are the Champions, which drop-kicked them firmly into stadium anthem territory. Appropriately, the concert began with the lights going down and the primitive, effective, impossible-not-to-join-in-with BOOM-BOOM-CHI, BOOM-BOOM-CHI, BOOM-BOOM-CHI intro to We Will Rock You rolling over the audience. Everyone immediately jumped up out of their seats and began to stomp and clap along. I, too, stood and stomped and clapped, watching in awe as people began flicking their Bic lighters, a gesture I had never seen before. What, were they going to set light to something? I had tried not to act surprised earlier when people nearby started smoking grass in public, but now was there going to be a riot? What other illegal things would go on that night? Then a spotlight picked out Freddie Mercury, who began to sing, "Buddy you're a boy, make a big noise, playin' in the street, gonna be a big man someday..." and I thought, "Jesus H. Christ, that is the loudest noise I've ever heard! Is that legal?" The wall of sound terrified me, and I wanted to cover my ears, but I didn't dare, as it would have been a very uncool thing to do. I think I looked around for the exit, wondering how many people I would have to climb over to escape the sound. It was just so goddamned loud — exhilarating, yes, but painful, too, dangerous and overwhelming. I wavered between loving it and hating it, but knew it would be uncool to hate it, so I'd better try to love it.

Towards the end of the song the single note of an electric guitar began to hum louder and louder under the chorus we were all singing and shouting, and Brian May stepped into the light to add his distinctive sound, ending We Will Rock You with low, long-sustain, three-part harmony chords, overlaid with a high melody he made fuzzy and metallic by using a coin as a guitar pick. I adored Brian May. He was the reserved, straight guy (literally) to Freddie Mercury's camp high jinks — tall, dark, good-looking, with long curly hair and a melancholy pensiveness that made every teenage girl want to comfort him. At this concert he was wearing a silvery white jacket with long, pleated wing sleeves; that combined with his mop of curls should have made him look effeminate, but instead he was deeply sexy.

I loved Freddie, too, for his outrageous antics, his riskiness, his joy at performing and glorious indifference to how ridiculous he looked wearing glittery leotard jumpsuits, eyeliner and a mullet, prancing and strutting and posing, twitching his hips, smacking his lips and otherwise hamming it up. But even without being conscious of Freddie's sexual preference — I hadn't yet met anyone who was openly gay — I instinctively sensed he was not to be lusted after. For all his extrovert, welcoming stage presence, he was clearly playing a part, which served to hold us at arm's length; whereas Brian May's taciturn moodiness was clearly himself served up raw.

Thank God for Freddie, though. Without him, no one would have moved on stage: Brian May was not a dancer, John Deacon, in time-honoured bassist tradition, stood solidly in one place throughout, and Roger Taylor was trapped by his drum kit.

To set us at our ease, after We Will Rock You Freddie toasted us with a glass of champagne — "Moet et Chandon, of course," after the reference in the hit Killer Queen. My friends and I heard this and screamed and clutched one another. He mentioned Moet et Chandon! That was our champagne! He was acknowledging us! I swear he made eye contact with me, 200 yards away and over the heads of thousands.

For we had done what we thought was the most original and extravagant gesture (for 15-year-olds) a fan could make: we had sent a bottle of champagne backstage. We'd pooled our money and gotten an older sister to buy it for us — the same sister who had been obliged to drive us all the way to the Capital Centre, smirking at our overexcited fandom. We'd even made our way to the stage door down a loading dock at the back of the arena and reluctantly handed over the precious bottle to a bored roadie, who said he would take it to the band. We'd had our doubts about his reliability, and his jadedness had dampened our enthusiasm a bit: had we really blown all that money — $20, which in those days meant 20 hours of babysitting — to have some unshaven jerk with a beer belly swill the precious liquid? But clearly the roadie had pulled through for us, for there was our champagne in Freddie Mercury's hand, and he was referring to Moet et Chandon in his pretty cabinet, the lyrics we had so cleverly quoted in the note we sent along with the bottle. We were sure we — among the many thousands — had managed to get through to the band.

If we had bothered to look around rather than feast our eyes on Brian and Freddie (I'm afraid John Deacon and Roger Taylor never got a look-in from me), we probably would have seen other clusters of fans also screaming and clutching one another during Freddie's toast. But we didn't look around or harbour doubts, or we ignored them. It was only much later that I allowed myself to consider the veritable champagne lake that must have existed backstage at every Queen concert. Tip to rock stars: want a free truckload of champagne wherever you go? Sing a song that mentions some — preferably name-checking a more expensive brand to ensure better quality — and watch it pour in backstage every night from adoring fans. There must have been a hundred bottles from fans back there, not counting the stash the band may well have brought with them in case Portland or Houston or Detroit weren't so generous. No wonder that roadie looked so bored — he'd probably been put on champagne duty that night.

Freddie's toast worked its magic, though, giving me the connection I needed to negotiate a place within the strangeness of the concertgoing experience itself: the weird, scary power of a crowd; the mixture of exhilaration and embarrassment at collective participation; the physical discomfort of standing for two hours when there's a perfectly comfortable seat behind you. It is one of those tricky, unresolved tensions at concerts: are we there to listen to the music or actively respond to it, participate as a group or answer our needs as individuals? It's an issue I've never entirely resolved — from Queen onwards I have spent concerts going in and out of myself, losing myself to the music and spectacle one minute, the next minute overly conscious of myself clapping or singing or screaming, and wondering why concerts have to be such an uncomfortable physical ordeal.

I was taken aback by the sound of Queen's music live: not just the volume, but the familiarity and also the strange rawness of the songs. Studio albums have all the mistakes airbrushed out, the layers added in, the balance between players carefully calibrated, like clever dialogue in a play without the awkward pauses and unfinished conversations you get in real life. Queen albums were highly produced, multi-layered affairs. Live, the music was necessarily stripped of a lot of the choral mixing, more raucous, simpler and much messier.

The band wisely didn't dare attempt to reproduce in its entirety the long, baroque confection that is Bohemian Rhapsody. For the infamous operatic middle section, the band members left the stage as the studio recording played. Freddie and Brian then changed costume, and, at the word "Beelzebub", all four men popped out of a door in the stage floor and joined live again for the heavy metal section, fireworks going off, dry ice pouring out, everyone going berserk, me in tears of excitement. It was one of the best live moments I've ever witnessed. Indeed, I was spoiled by seeing Queen play live before anyone else; for sheer exuberant theatricality, no one else has come close.

The concert ended with an instrumental version of God Save the Queen and once more the flicking of the Bics, which, no longer the virgin concertgoer, I understood now as a gesture of tribute. My friends and I weren't finished, though. Emboldened by Freddie's toast, we decided to go to the stage entrance again and say hello. I still choke with embarrassment when I think of it. When we got there, a black limousine was pulling away, our heroes and their entourage inside, and we were left with the detritus: older, dolled-up, hard-bitten groupies who had followed the band around and not made this night's cut. I stared at one, at her long, bleach-blond hair, her miniskirt, her bright red lipstick. She glared at me briefly; then her face went slack as she dismissed the idea of me being any sort of competition. In fact, I had not really taken in that there was a competition, that the girls (and I?) were here to spread our wares and catch the attention of one of the men, and then . . . And then? I hadn't thought it through at all. I wouldn't have known what to do with such a man as Brian May if he even so much as looked at me. All I knew was that I was way, way out of my depth, that even if I had eluded the roadie minding the door, there was no way I was ever going to get past a woman like this.

[trueishcolours]

My siblings and I accidentally write a Ron/Victor Krum 4th year fix it fic in the group chat

Isabel: guyS

Rewatching goblet of fire

And I have to say

How amazing would it have if

It was a LOT less gendered

And also

If Ron and Krum had got together instead of Krum and Hermione

Thomas: Oh yeah there's so much Gender  

Isabel Ron already basically has a crush on Krum

Would have been great  

Thomas: idk, he's more jealous of him in my opinion  

Isabel: Nah

He has the action figure

He says he's an artist

It's definitely there

Thomas: Tru 

Clare: I mean on a superficial level I liked the Hermione/Krum part because it made me relate that a girl who is usually uninterested in 'feminine' things might still have some anxieties and take some interest now and again, and 'this super hot guy will like You, the Nerd' is standard wish fulfilment, but honestly I could take it or leave it. A grumpy feminist could equally well read it as 'EVEN smort girls like Hermione want to be feminine REALLY uwu'

And that would be a boring analysis but the whole feminine versus not argument is boring and not what we're here for

Anyway

The Krum drama kicks off the Romione subplot and honestly I hate Romione as a ship, to me it feels forced from beginning to end

But Ron/Krum would tie in really nicely to the whole character arc for Ron that JKR started in the first book and then forgot about where he evolves into an amazing intelligent badass without noticing it

Picture: He is dooting along, vaguely bummed because he's nothing special compared to his older bros, then in book four he realises wait he DOES stand out from others because he's gay/bi/whatever but he's not sure he WANTS that because standing out for being a minority is a fucking hassle but by the seventh book he is war hero, chess master and gay icon and vaguely confused about it

Hell, you could even have Hermione go to the ball with Krum, get her girly character development in and have Ron freak out and both of them /assume/ it's about her when it's not

It would just

Be better Thomas: Queer theory saves the day once again

Clare: :D  

Isabel: JUST BASICALLY RON, ALL THE TIME, WITH A BETTER CHARACTER ARC

Thomas: I love this  

Isabel: Honestly decades later I am still just so salty about Ron's lack of development, hell, anti development. I just want everything for him

Clare: Like, not to make it automatically angsty just because it's gay but Ron being Not Straight ties in so well with his typical theme of qualities that he think make him less than Textbook Perfect actually being his great strengths (I read a great analysis that Ron actually achieves all his brothers' goals without trying or noticing)

Ron just utterly stalls as a character in the books

And Harry is a shitty friend to him by the end

She kind of pulled it back with his deathly hallows arc but it was bungled and could have come across as just bashing him

Isabel: HE IS. Ron is so taken for granted.

Clare: God, Ron is SO much less of a dick if his yelling at Hermione in book four is coming out of Sudden Repressed Realisation, not just 'woman I like is doing something I don't like'

Isabel: I watched film 4 last night and just everyone??? Is so horrible to each other??? All the time??? I swear in the books it's so much better handled

Other reasons why bi/gay Ron headcanon is important: - most masculine of the trio/ has a million big brothers so dealing with toxic masculinity/ bucking queer stereotypes in there too - an extra 'fuck you' to the whole pure blood thing which I reckon is really homophobic as it means your bloodline won't get continued or some shit - Krum coaching Ron on Keeping in bad English. Tell me it's not cute. - Ron's a linguist (he learnt parselmouth on like 2 listens)!! Tell me he wouldn't learn Bulgarian?! - just, chaotic bilingual Quidditch talk, all the time, forever?!

Clare: UM your pidgin Quiddich is now my new fave headcanon forever????? You're SO RIGHT Ron is smart, he's just not academic. He would DEFINITELY pick up a language fast if he was using it to talk to his boyfriend/about quiddich

Isabel: EXACTLY

Clare: Plus all the stuff you said about toxic masculinity and purebloodism.

MAKE THE SUBTEXT TEXTUAL, YOU COWARDS

Isabel: #giveRonaBoyfriend2k18

Also not around for the lowkey weirdness of Ron and Harry dating CANONICALLY IDENTICAL AND BORING non white girls to the Yule Ball

I know that you can overdo all this stuff but seriously the fuck

Clare: It is a bit odd and icky   

Isabel: Ok so this is what happens

Krum asks Hermione to the Yule Ball and it's like she gets her cute moment with him

But then instead of spending the whole evening being a whiny bish Ron shows un-JKR-characterisation-characteristic maturity and puts a brave face on it and talks to them both

He's upset but doesn't full on ruin their evenings

And then Hermione after the ball, (gradually realising with slight horror that she and Krum actually have literally nothing in common) kind of keeps... asking... Ron to hang out with them

And at first Ron's like lol no way am I third wheeling

But then the temptation to hang out with his literal idol becomes too strong

And he and Krum start hanging out independently of Hermione

(who's probably in the lib helping Harry study for the second task at this point anyway)

The weather is still too cold for Quidditch

Ron thinks

But somehow Ron ends up playing anyway

IN THE SNOW

WITH VICTOR

HE'S GETTING COACHED BY AN ACTUAL WORLD CUP FINAL SNITCH CATCHING PLAYER AND HE IS NOT CHILL

Clare: Hoooooly fuck this is perfect

(except he actually is because it's like -10 and snowing what the fuck Krum) Ron putting his big boy panties on and dealing during the ball, leading to him actually having an in with Krum via Hermione

I love the dynamic of Hermione just...awkwardly asking her friends to hang with them...just to break the silence...

Isabel: YEAH EXACTLY

And then them all actually having a nice evening

Clare: I mean the point of Krum with her was to get that 'YASSSS I'm dating a hot guy!' moment WHILE ALSO showing how easily it fizzles, so nothing needs to change there

Hermione could even do her 'ugh, quiddich and BOYS' routine

Isabel: Awkward because of course it is awkward what is a teenage party without angst but also, fun

yeah exactly! the slow dawning that fuuuuck, I've just brought another stupid quidditch boi into my life oh god why

Clare: Ron still knows more about the history of the game and all the technical terms than Harry so has more to talk to Krum about

Isabel: And then you know Ron and Krum stumble back into the castle with Ron wearing Krum's hat à la Chad and Ryan, and Skeeter doesn't bat an eyelid because it doesn't fit her trashy narrative

Clare: RIGHT I've got to sleep I'm getting a cold but I love this

Isabel: ok go sleep

OK ONE MORE POINT

we almost certainly get the insanely awkward 'think you're in luurve Ron' or 'lol if you love Krum so much you should date him not Hermione'! moment from either Fred or George or maybe Ginny

And there's just a kind of... missing step moment

Clare: I think all of them would do that

I mean they're pretty mean to Ron anyway, especially about love

Isabel: Exactly they're all horrible but MAYBE this would teach them!!

Clare: Exactly! It would rip the rug out from under them and they'd be like wait shit

Isabel: We are actually mean to Ron... a lot

Clare: Especially because in this timeline Ron still gets the hassle from his sibs but unlike in the main timeline where he is just butt monkey forever he has the trump card that he's got a boyfriend who's a world famous quiddich player

Like, if you're Fred, George, Ginny or even Molly you can't really come back from that reveal. Ron wins.

Isabel: Krum actually being a laser focussed guy who gives people he cares about 300% of his attention

And middle child syndrome attention starved Ron just soaks it up like a blooming Icelandic kid under a sunlamp

Ron win evertiem

Clare: Yeahhhhhh. Being a prodigy who's trained from such a young age he's got to nail that work life balance and it's like 90% work 10% life but that life is INTENSE, he's seen too many people lose their relationships because they won't switch off their metaphorical phones during dates, he gets one (1) month a year and about three (3) important people and when it is Person Time it is PERSON TIME

Right bed for eal I'm dying

Isabel: BED FOR EEL

UGH ALL I WANT IN MY LIFE IS THE 50K+ SLOW BURN QUEER 4TH YEAR REWRITE

BUT I LEGIT DON'T HAVE TIME TO WRITE IT AND I DON'T TRUST MYSELF TO GET RON POV RIGHT ANYWAY

Clare: Bebs I wish you could write it

The raw chemistry my goodness

I ship it now

Is there going to be 'you are treating me like an idol not a real person please stop' angst at any point?

Isabel: OF COURSE THERE IS

Clare: Also Krum is like 'I knew I could trust you because you are bffs with Harry Potter and you treat him like he's totally normal you must be so mature and cool he is so so lucky to have a friend like you

Or well, Krum insecurity that people only like him because of his celeb status anyway

Which is probably why he went for Hermione in the first place because she didn't give a shit

'WOULD WE EVEN BE TOGETHER IN THE FIRST PLACE IF IT WASN'T FOR QUODDICH?'

'... I love you.'

'Bro I wouldn't care if you were the worst player in the world as long as we both are fans of the sport together.'

'Bro.'

Isabel: BRUH

Also can I just ask...?

What happens in the second task??!!?

It's already messed up enough under that lake, love triangles all over the place

This would just be the final straw that resulted in everyone just shrugging and teaming up

Clare: Holy shit

Krum just doots along, takes Ron and goes

Harry's like...wait what...OK...um I guess Hermione and Ron are equally important to me so I'll just take her kk

Isabel: Krum and Ron appearing on the surface of the lake like 'fuck'

The most dramatic declaration of intent ever

Turning yourself into a shark and rescuing them from the bottom of a lake

Clare: Everybody in the stands is SHOOK

Dumbledore like dang I did not predict this

With their hair soaking wet they are both at maximum hot

Isabel: Rita Skeeter's quill combusts

Clare: Krum doesn't point her out as a beetle in Hermione’s hair he's too busy with Ron

Isabel: Yeah she's like where is my gossip at??? Nothing is happening over in Hermione's hair

But yeah I feel like Dumbledore would be like, oh darn, looks like I'm gonna have to show queer solidarity with Ronald Weasely or something

KRUM AT THE BURROW VERY SERIOUSLY COMPLIMENTING MOLLY ON HER FOOD AND ASKING FOR BRITISH RECIPES AND WINNING HER OVER IN A TRICE

Clare: Would Krum charm Molly straight away though? He's very surly and shy and, in the books, not very handsome. Wouldn't Molly start out yikes who is this quiddich yob my son has taken up with?

Ginny on the other hand. Comes out as bi a couple of years later, tells Ron she only started to realise thanks to his example, apologises for being a dick about his love life

Isabel: Yeah I guess actually

I think Molly can get fierce

Clare: She's probably got a bit of pure blood/homophobic anxiety that she cloaks as objections about THIS PARTICULAR boy

Isabel: Either she loves you and adopts you right away or she is like /pulling shotgun down from the shelf/

EXACTLY

She's like

Blaming herself, oh I should have paid more attention and NOW look what's happened

Poor Ronald, always neglected

And Ron's like... mum... this is great

I am happy

Is not problem

Clare: Ron is like I AM NOT DOING THIS FOR ATTENTION JESUS CHRIST

I mean he's probably enjoying having the attention of a quiddich super star and I bet he'd even enjoy the celebrity status of The Boyfriend a bit (best friends get sidelined but romantic partners are news) but he's not doing it FOR attention

Isabel: Yeah, and I think the suggestion that he is would just make him so mad

First confused and then mad

Oh the ANGST

Clare: Especially since that's Krums biggest anxiety

Isabel: Mr Weasely would be chill. I feel like in this whole equation he is the chillest

Clare: What would Percy say? Would social climbing or doing the done thing win out?

Also the attention thing is a way for parents to make their child's relationship all about them. Oh you want me to LOVE you more! No mum I'm growing away from you this is normal

I think Ron would get jealous around Bill and Charlie because they'd swing in all oh our brother is rebellious and has a cool boyfriend? Well we are cool rebels also welcome to the family Victor

Isabel: Yeah... I think Percy is probably pretending to be chill with it and being a bit smarmy to Krum then says something awkward and homophobic and it's worse than if he'd just said it straight up

Clare: I think a lot of Liberal but still pure blood families would take the line of, 'it's fine that you're gay...because you're the sixth son so your blood line isn't in danger and making a socially advantageous match is probably more important for you anyway! And Ron is like Y I K E S

Isabel: Yeah exactly, well I suppose you have enough sons Molly amirite

What do we think about the Krum family?

Are they just happy that their son is forming human relationships

Clare: Hmm. How do they feel about celebrity? Do they think Ron is Not Good Enough or are they actually quite a normal family and are glad Krum has an ordinary guy to keep him grounded?

Isabel: I kind of don't want Ron to have to deal with random Bulgarian disapproval

I think maybe a quite normal family who had a kid who was a genius and has been at boarding school/ travelling for years and years

Maybe Krum already came out to them so that drama is in the past

Clare: Yeah and when he brings Ron home for dinner they're just delighted that Krum is home at all and that he's happy

Yeah maybe he did

He's probably had a lot of time to introspect because of his image and maybe he's an only child?

Isabel: And Ron speaks accented but ok Bulgarian by this point and they're like !!!

Clare: I think one aspect of the large family thing that WOULD affect Ron is its just that much harder to have a private word with your parents so confiding about yourself, especially when you're not 100% sure, just isn't part of the family culture

And there's no time for introspection when you're jockeying for position with six siblings

So Krum is out to his parents while Ron isn't even out to himself

Plus Krums just that bit older

Isabel: No, when you ask for a word it's all 'yes Ron' a bit exasperated

Clare: Krum’s family are just delighted that Ron speaks Bulgarian and is a normal guy who likes their son for himself

Isabel: Maybe they have some kind of cool engineery job and Ron goes out the back and is like well my dad likes cars I will try and help

Uses his mathsy chessy knowledge

Clare: Re. Homophobia I think it is important that it's not all YOU'RE GOING TO HELL like the Muggle brand but instead is very focused on producing pure blood children. Also with the smallness of the pure blood community I bet there's a lot of, not official arranged marriage, but kind of assumed marriage, like in Pride and Prejudice or what may have happened with Prince William and Kate, like, there's three girls your age who your family's on speaking terms with who aren't your first cousins and it'll massively throw off everybody's plans if you don't marry one of them

Yes Ron helping with engineering

Isabel: Headcanon of the Krums as magical engineers with a side passion for quidditch

Clare: I bet he picks up arithmancy that way. Can't learn it in the classroom, can learn it in the garage. And he comes home from the holiday able to actually help his dad with the car and thenceforth Mr Weasley is on board

Isabel: Yeah exactly... they're a bit 'sigh ok this means you're not gonna marry bertha from the bakery but hell at least it's not a veela'

Clare: Also wizarding society is inherently conservative, they haven't even updated their writing system, so anybody doing anything different is looked askance at unless they can play themselves as a genius eccentric like Dumbledore

Isabel: So yeah then Ron turns out to be WHOLESOME af and Krum’s family are like... ok fine. this is fine. In fact yay!

Ok I have to go do some work but this has been almost as good as having the fic itself

Clare: Maybe I'll put a summary on my tumblr and see if anybody wants to adopt it

[skepticraven]

15 Reasons Not To Be a Christian

It's sad that this has to be said but it does because unfortunately, too many people take disagreement as hostility. At least if its an atheist who is doing the disagreement. I do not hate Christians. I don’t think they are all bad people. I harbor no ill will towards them. I just happen to think they are wrong. I get asked why I’m not a Christian a lot so I thought I’d answer the question. I could probably write a small novel on this but this seems like a good start for now. 

1) The concept of Christianity is entirely based on the Bible. We have no original manuscript for it so you have no idea what it said originally. The oldest version we have of the Bible isn’t even in the language that would have been spoken in that part of the middle east and in that time period. 

2) The Bible was supposedly written by a lot of carpenters, shepherds, farmers, fishermen, and similar types of professions. Such people would have been totally illiterate during that time period.

3) Based on the date that the original Bible was supposedly written, the Book spent over a 1000 years being copied, translated, and intentionally altered by hand until the printing press came about in the mid-1400's. You couldn't copy it once without making some error accidentally and it was handled entirely by powerful men with plenty of reason to alter it for personal gain. Churchgoers were often illiterate until the past couple hundred years and mass was given in Latin on top of it back then. So most people would be none the wiser if something had been altered. In fact, we know for sure the Bible has been intentionally altered numerous times. There are literally hundreds of versions of the Bible just in English and thousands of sects of Christianity. 50+ Books were either left out of the Bible or later excluded (some were excluded by Martin Luther and some by Pope Clement VIII). If Christians can’t even get their story straight, why in the hell should I believe it? 

4) The Bible plagiarized stories from numerous pre-existing religions: both monotheistic and polytheistic. For example, the Persian scriptures of the Zoroastrians tell the story of how their god created the world and the first 2 humans in 6 days and then rested on the 7th. The names of these two human beings. Sound familiar? The Zoroastrians also invented the concept of heaven and hell and their art portrays the prophet Zarathustra as being surrounded by the same halo of light in which Christian figures are often depicted. Zarathustra even looks like Jesus before they white-washed Jesus. Chapter 125 of the Egyptian Book of the Dead is the same as the 10 commandments only written in negative confession. The story of the great flood was stolen from The Epic of Gilgamesh- right down to using birds to find dry land and the fact that the boat landed on a mountain.

5) I find it morally contemptible that the Biblically conceived God supposedly gives you enough free will to hang yourself with so that is not really free at all. Love him or burn forever? They'd call that abuse if he were human. And if Christianity is so true, why must they drill it into the heads of children before they have the capacity for critical thought? Its easier to get people to accept extraordinary claims as children. That's just brainwashing 101.

6) I find it morally contemptible that the Biblically conceived God supposedly committed an act of genocide against all firstborn Egyptian sons because he was mad at one guy (the Pharaoh). The whole point of the Pharaoh is that he alone controlled Egypt and why could this God character have not just unilaterally eliminated him with a bolt of lightning? Instead, Christians believe he murdered a bunch of random people and children who had nothing to do with the decision to keep or free the Jews. But then again, Christians also believe this God murdered the entire fucking world in a flood because our "free" will became a pain in the ass. Not just people but also animals. I guess those giraffes were really acting up!

7) The Bible has dozens of current versions and resulted in hundreds of sects of Christianity with wildly varying beliefs. So if they can't agree on what it says, why should anyone else believe it?

8) Most Christians believe in the Christian god because they were born in a country where Christianity is the dominant religion. Most people in India are Hindu because they were born into it too. And the same with Muslims in Iraq. And so on and so forth. If there was any divine truth to Christianity over any other faith, why don’t we see more conversion? Why aren’t non-Christians flocking in? Because it sounds absurd to anyone who hasn’t had this stuff drilled into their heads for their entire life.

9)If you read the Bible, there is actually some pretty sick shit in it besides just the aforementioned genocide. The whole idea of the Bible is that it is supposed to be the divinely inspired word of god. I don’t know why God couldn’t just write his own book but supposedly he told his prophets what he wanted to be written. So if that is true, God is not an entity deserving of my praise or respect. Here are examples of this contemptible god character condoning sexual slavery:   In Numbers 31:17-18, Moses commands his people to kill the men, the children, and any women who aren't virgins. Then tells his people that they may KEEP any woman or girl who is a virgin for themselves. Then in, (Deuteronomy 21:10-14) Moses spells out a ritual to purify a captive virgin before sex. Then in (Leviticus 19:20-22), The Bible tells you that if you bang a slave while engaged to another woman, that you must beat the slave girl and sacrifice a sheep.

10) Either the Bible is bullshit or god sanctions sexism repeatedly. For example: 1 Timothy 2:12, "I do not permit a woman to teach or to have authority over a man, she must be silent." 1 Corinthians 14:34-35: “Let your women keep silence in the churches: for it is not permitted unto them to speak; but they are commanded to be under obedience as also saith the law.” Colossians 3:18: "Wives, submit yourselves unto your own husbands, as it is fit in the Lord." Deuteronomy 22:20-21 "If however the charge is true and no proof of the girl’s virginity can be found, she shall be brought to the door of her father’s house and there the men of her town shall stone her to death…” Leviticus 15:19-30 I’m paraphrasing here but it basically says, menstruating women are unclean. Anyone or anything that touches she is unclean.

11) This God character in the Bible also sanctions physical slavery many, many times, not just sexual slavery. Here are a few examples: Ephesians 6:5, "Slaves obey your earthly masters with deep fear and respect." Colossians 3:22: "Slaves, obey your earthly masters in everything you do. Try to please them all the time, not just when they are watching you. Serve them sincerely because of your reverent fear of the Lord."

12) Either the Bible is bullshit or the God character in the Bible sanctions murder many, many times.:   (Numbers 16:41-49) In this verse, the Israelites complain that God is killing too many of them. So, God sends a plague that kills 14,000 more of them. (Deuteronomy 17:12) says to kill people who don't listen to priests (Exodus 22:17) Kill witches. (Leviticus 20:13)Kill gays. (Leviticus 20:27) Kill Fortunetellers. (Exodus 21:15) Kill someone who hit a parent. (Proverbs 20:20) and (Leviticus 20:9) Kill people for cursing their parents. (Leviticus 20:10) Kill adulterers (Leviticus 21:9) Kill a priest’s daughter who has sex. (Exodus 22:19) & (Numbers 25:1-9) Kill people of other religions. (2 Chronicles 15:12-13) Kill Nonbelievers (Deuteronomy 13:13-19) Kill the Entire Town if One Person Worships Another God (Deuteronomy 22:20-21) Kill Women Who Are Not Virgins On Their Wedding Night (Leviticus 24:10-16) Kill Blasphemers (Exodus 31:12-15) Kill people who work on the Sabbath (Isaiah 14:21) & (Leviticus 26:21-22) Kill the children of Sinners That’s not even a complete list and it leaves essentially no one alive.

13) God is supposed to be this big divine being who created an entire universe full of billions upon billions of planets and stars. And yet the Bible claims he cares an awful lot about incredibly petty, stupid human things. Here are a few of his downright stupid rules. Don't get a tattoo or a piercing. (Leviticus 19:28) Don't eat Shellfish. (Leviticus 11:10) Don't cut the hair at the sides of your head or clip off the edges of your beard. (Leviticus 19:27) Don't get divorced. (Luke 16:18) Don't wear cloth of blended fabrics. (Leviticus 19:19) Don't eat pork. (Leviticus 11:8) Don't work on Sundays. (31:14-15) Don't have pre-marital sex. (Deuteronomy 22: 20-21) 

14) The Bible contradicts itself all over the place. If the Bible doesn't have any consistency, why would anyone believe it? Again, there are way more examples than I can list here. STATEMENT 1: Genesis 1:26-27 Adam and Eve were created at the same time. CONTRADICTION 1: Genesis 2:7 and 2:21-22 Adam was created first, woman sometime later. STATEMENT 2: Genesis 1:24-27 Animals were created before Adam. CONTRADICTION 2: Genesis 2:7 and 2:19 Animals were created after Adam. STATEMENT 3: Genesis 1:31 God was pleased with his creation. CONTRADICTION 3: Genesis 6:5-6 God was not pleased with his creation. STATEMENT 4: Exodus 20:13 "Thou shalt not kill." CONTRADICTION 4: Look back at #12. I listed a bunch of people the Bible says to kill STATEMENT 5: Genesis 6:19 "And of every living thing of all flesh, two of every sort shalt thou bring into the ark." CONTRADICTION 5: Genesis 7:2 "Of every clean beast thou shalt take to thee by sevens: and of beasts that are not clean by two.

15) There is simply is no evidence for any god, much less the Christian god.  In fact, there is some scientific evidence that debunks biblical stories. Here are a few examples. Darwinian evolution debunks the idea that animals or people were created as they are today. We have archeological evidence of human beings existing long before humans were supposedly created according to the Bible. There is no geologic evidence of a worldwide flood. And even in theory, how did kangaroos get to this ark from Australia? Fly? Millions of species couldn’t have gotten to the ark if they tried. There are an estimated 6.5 million land animal species. That's just land animals. If all this flood water was salt water, it would have killed all the freshwater animals (or vice versa) so Noah would have had to include either all saltwater or all freshwater animals as well. And some species need shallow water to survive so that becomes a problem with a flood that reached the tops of mountains. There is no fucking way all those animals fit on any boat, much less one with the dimensions described in the Bible. Besides, there just is not enough water around to account for the water levels rising above the highest mountaintop. Then Noah supposedly lived to be 950? lol. Come on. People had significantly shorter lifespans in ancient times than they do today for obvious reasons. Only 0.0173% of Americans live to be 100 with the benefits of modern medicine and sanitation. 

Conclusion: I reject Christianity because it does not make sense to me. It's not a phase. It's not teenage rebellion that has stretched into adulthood. It’s definitely not devil worship since I don’t believe in him either. This is just the conclusion I came to after careful contemplation. Nothing more. Nothing less. Hopefully, this was food for thought for someone. As always, I appreciate feedback and thanks for reading!

[writersshock-deactivated]

Nobody ever sends these asks so imma do ‘em all.

lets get personal.

1: 6 of the songs you listen to most?

Um, right now? I really don’t know... Probably Panic! at the Disco’s new Pray for the Wicked album. Eh,,, Dancing’s Not A Crime, Say Amen, High Hopes, Old Fashioned, and then a couple older one’s, maybe Don’t Threaten Me With A Good Time and Miss Jackson.

2: If you could meet anyone on this earth, who would it be?

Jeremy. My crush from summer camp. Just to see him again instead of having to wait 10 months (that is if I can afford it when the time comes -- otherwise I may never see him again). So not exactly ‘meeting’, but.... Celebrity-wise, I don’t know. Perhaps Kamala Harris, a California politician.

3: Grab the book nearest to you, turn to page 23, give me line 17.

“DNA is often too small to obtain reliable results.” (my forensic textbook)

4: What do you think about most?

I dunno... stuff.

5: What does your latest text message from someone else say?

[sleepy face emoji]

6: Do you sleep with or without clothes on?

Usually underwear... it really depends whether or not I’m wearing a shirt.

7: What’s your strangest talent?

I don’t know... I can rap, which isn’t strange per say but it’s weird to me.

8: Girls… (finish the sentence); Boys… (finish the sentence)

Girls are freaking amazing; Boys are freaking amazing too.

9: Ever had a poem or song written about you?

Yes, 2. The negative anon and the positive anon.

10: When is the last time you played the air guitar?

Last night, with my 1 year old sister, to Nirvana.

11: Do you have any strange phobias?

I’m afraid of fire. Like, touching fire or using an oven or working with boiling water.

12: Ever stuck a foreign object up your nose?

No, I have never stuck a foreign object up my nose.

13: What’s your religion?

Atheist, but I have a lot of opinions about philosophy and faith.

14: If you are outside, what are you most likely doing?

Going inside. Or ‘playing’ with my brother.

15: Do you prefer to be behind the camera or in front of it?

Behind! I love photography! Not photogenic at all though.

16: Simple but extremely complex. Favorite band?

Well my favorite band song of all time is Smells Like Teen Spirit by Nirvana, but they’re not my favorite band. I’d have to say Twenty One Pilots or Panic! at the Disco.

17: What was the last lie you told?

‘No, I have never stuck a foreign object up my nose.’

18: Do you believe in karma?

Not as a Universal phenomena. But yeah, what goes around comes around.

19: What does your URL mean?

Um, ‘writersblock’ was taken. Shocking, right? My main, ‘almondivory’ is more interesting. It’s for my best friend Amber and me, Ian. And her shade of foundation is almond. And mine is ivory. So it all worked out.

20: What is your greatest weakness; your greatest strength?

Greatest weakaness is probably laziness. Greatest strength? Passion.

21: Who is your celebrity crush?

Olivia Wilde, Jennifer Lawrence, Rihanna, Beyonce, Kristen Stewart, Penelope Cruz, and Michelle Pfeiffer are all contenders. Yeah, Tyler Joseph and Brendon Urie too.

22: Have you ever gone skinny dipping?

Not since I was little.

23: How do you vent your anger?

Sulk. Listen to soft emo music.

24: Do you have a collection of anything?

Mental disorders.

25: Do you prefer talking on the phone or video chatting online?

Online.

26: Are you happy with the person you’ve become?

Not yet.

27: What’s a sound you hate; sound you love?

I HATE nails on a chalkboard.

28: What’s your biggest “what if”?

‘What if I was rich’? Or ‘what if i was hot’? Or, perhaps, ‘what if i was straight?’

29: Do you believe in ghosts? How about aliens?

No. And I think there’s a possibility of some form of life from elsewhere in the universe, but not mainstream aliens.

30: Stick your right arm out; what do you touch first? Do the same with your left arm.

Saydon. My neighbor in class. He’s looking at me strangely now. On the left, a cheap “wall” (room divisor).

31: Smell the air. What do you smell?

Not much. A hint of coffee.

32: What’s the worst place you have ever been to?

I don’t know... most recently, my brother’s bathroom. It’s supposed to be ‘ours’ but I can’t stand it.

33: Choose: East Coast or West Coast?

EAST COAST

34: Most attractive singer of your opposite gender?

Well, my biological sex is female, even though I am nonbinary. So I’ll go with a male singer (also because there are too many hot girls to choose from) ... Shawn Mendes. Or Tyler Joseph or Brendon Urie.

35: To you, what is the meaning of life?

This is to complicated. It’s not that I don’t have opinions (i have many) but when i talk about this I talk for almost 2 hours and 40 minutes. Yes, I’ve been timed.

36: Define Art.

Creative expression.

37: Do you believe in luck?

Not really? I’m unsure what this means exactly.

38: What’s the weather like right now?

I’m in class, but when I got here it was clear and a little damp.

39: What time is it?

10:41am Tuesday October 30th

40: Do you drive? If so, have you ever crashed?

No. Too young (14). But yes. I was in a bad car crash summer 2017.

41: What was the last book you read?

Textbook: for my forensic anthropology class. Otherwise: Summer Reading by Hilma Wolitzer

42: Do you like the smell of gasoline?

Yes!

43: Do you have any nicknames?

By birth name is Fiona. Only one person in the world is allowed to call me Fifi. Otherwise, Ian, Ean, E.K, and E.L. (@scholarlypidgeot)

44: What was the last film you saw?

Not sure if it was Ocean’s 8 or Dangerous Minds.

45: What’s the worst injury you’ve ever had?

Physical? Not sure.

46: Have you ever caught a butterfly?

Yeah, probably, but not for long. I raised caterpillars into butterflies onse.

47: Do you have any obsessions right now?

No, I said, like a liar.

48: What’s your sexual orientation?

Demi-ace.

49: Ever had a rumour spread about you?

Yes. So many.

50: Do you believe in magic?

Not in the way you’re asking.

51: Do you tend to hold grudges against people who have done you wrong?

No, unfortunately. I forgive too easily and I keep going back to the same abusive friendship.

52: What is your astrological sign?

Virgo, I believe. Sept. 16.

53: Do you save money or spend it?

If it’s my own, save up. Somebody’s else? Spend.

54: What’s the last thing you purchased?

2 coffees and a brownie. I’m healthy.

55: Love or lust?

Love.

56: In a relationship?

No.

57: How many relationships have you had?

1 (but liked 3 people).

58: Can you touch your nose with your tongue?

Yes.

59: Where were you yesterday?

Home.

60: Is there anything pink within 10 feet of you?

Yes. A couple of the flowers on my bag are pinkish-purple. My Ziploc bags have blue and pink strips. My jacket is galaxy-patterned and has a little pink in it. Otherwise, no.

61: Are you wearing socks right now?

Yes. Black with white stars, constellations, and cresecent moons. Mid-calf. Warm.

62: What’s your favourite animal?

Dolphin, elephant, owl, cat, or dog.

63: What is your secret weapon to get someone to like you?

I ... don’t have one.

64: Where is your best friend?

About an hour away. She moved at the beginning of the month (had lived literally right across the road, like we could whisper to each other from each other’s yards.

65: Give me your top 5 favourite blogs on Tumblr.

@thethew​ @gottaenjoythelittlethingzz​ @blacktwittercomedy​ @badjokesbyjeff​ @writersupportgroup​

66: What is your heritage?

English, Scottish, Polish, German. I am a white boi/girl.

67: What were you doing last night at 12AM?

Sleeping, oddly.

68: What do you think is Satan’s last name?

Never thought about it.

69: Be honest. Ever gotten yourself off?

It ... depends on your definition? Think it’s pretty safe to say no.

70: Are you the kind of friend you would want to have as a friend?

No.

71: You are walking down the street on your way to work. There is a dog drowning in the canal on the side of the street. Your boss has told you if you are late one more time you get fired. What do you do?

Save the fucking dog!

72: You are at the doctor’s office and she has just informed you that you have approximately one month to live. a) Do you tell anyone/everyone you are going to die? b) What do you do with your remaining days? c) Would you be afraid?

a) Yes.

b) I honestly have no idea. Probably contact all my friends from summer camp and tell them how much I love them and the camp. And find Jeremy, my summer camp crush, and tell him that I liked him.

c) Yes.

73: You can only have one of these things; trust or love.

Why?! I’d have to say trust. To not be trusted would drive me insane. And not being able to trust anyone would be awful. But love... I mean, I’d be terribly sad without it. :(

74: What’s a song that always makes you happy when you hear it?

Donald MacGillavry by Silly Wizard.

75: What are the last four digits in your cell phone number?

8672 (home)

76: In your opinion, what makes a great relationship?

Trust, support, communication, and understanding.

77: How can I win your heart?

Stab me and remove it in a battle. Other than that? Love me.... <3

78: Can insanity bring on more creativity?

YES

79: What is the single best decision you have made in your life so far?

No idea at all.

80: What size shoes do you wear?

8 or 9 Women’s (US)

81: What would you want to be written on your tombstone?

“Age 117 years, 4 months, and 23 days -- she was happy.”

82: What is your favourite word?

Absolutely no idea. Maybe ‘l’eau’?

83: Give me the first thing that comes to mind when you hear the word; heart.

Red

84: What is a saying you say a lot?

“?”

85: What’s the last song you listened to?

Homemade Dynamite- REMIX

86: Basic question; what’s your favourite colour/colours?

Bright yellow - Indigo is where they all are.

87: What is your current desktop picture?

88: If you could press a button and make anyone in the world instantaneously explode, who would it be?

I thought about this for a while. Nobody. Because everybody I hate, I’d want them to finally understand why I hate them rather than just exploding. They shouldn’t get to go that easy.

89: What would be a question you’d be afraid to tell the truth on?

What’s the worst lie you ever told?

90: One night you wake up because you heard a noise. You turn on the light to find that you are surrounded by MUMMIES. The mummies aren’t really doing anything, they’re just standing around your bed. What do you do?

Scream, throw my pillows at them, knock them all over, lock them in my bedroom, and sleep somewhere else.

91: You accidentally eat some radioactive vegetables. They were good, and what’s even cooler is that they endow you with the super-power of your choice! What is that power?

Well it was okra. Absolutely. No idea what power that gives me? The power to cook delicious food with little effort would be cool.

92: You can re-live any point of time in your life. The time-span can only be a half-hour, though. What half-hour of your past would you like to experience again?

Dancing with Annie in 2015.

93: You can erase any horrible experience from your past. What will it be?

This thing ... I ... watched. On the internet.

94: You have the opportunity to sleep with the music-celebrity of your choice. Who would it be?

Not into sex. I’m gonna interpret this as ‘making out with’. Hmm... maybe Halsey? Or Brendon Urie (assuming I was instantly a lot older). <3

95: You just got a free plane ticket to anywhere. You have to depart right now. Where are you gonna go?

Scotland.

96: Do you have any relatives in jail?

Not yet. My brother’s been close several times. Best friend’s cousin is in jail and her dad almost was (cousin for drug offenses and sexually harassing us, dad for verbally and physically abusing her).

97: Have you ever thrown up in the car?

Yes. I remember twice right now. Once when I was 7 or 8 in San Francisco. Once when I was 10 or 11 after eating really greasy Chinese food.

98: Ever been on a plane?

Yes. Maybe about 10-15 times?

99: If the whole world were listening to you right now, what would you say?

“YEET”.

No, seriously, probably, “Right now everybody in the world knows who I am. And that terrifies me. Also, I’m in a library so I have to be quiet. Climate change is real.”