#I thought that was just me but the author was projecting and explained perfectly what i was going through | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

flokali · 2 months

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— Concept: Student Yandere and Professor Darling

Warning: GN! Reader, blackmail, n/on-con, d/ub-con, age gap, student-teacher relationship, push-over reader, unfair ending, n/oncon recording, uhh ask to tag!

A/N: just a concept that plagued me for a while... hhhhhhh;; i'm so normal ab this

Any dynamics that involve an authority figure and a subordinate, no matter how innocent they may initially seem, are doomed from the start for either or both of the parties involved.

There’s an underlying power imbalance, someone holds the authority over the other, there is no nice way to put it, unfortunately.

Most of the time, in fics, I see a lot of Yan professors creeping on their students, but the thought of a student Yan harassing their beloved professor has been plaguing my mind.

I see the relationship as one that starts sweetly, you’ve noticed a certain student in your course that’s been falling behind, making mistakes that should have long been addressed, their work is always late or partially done and you’re growing slightly annoyed at them for wasting your time and misusing theirs as well, you’d offered them private tutoring when you found out it seemed to be only your course where they were turning in these less than acceptable projects.

They reject, seemingly embarrassed that you’d even offered such a proposal. You try to calm their nerves down, you’re pretty young yourself, you only graduated a few years ago and you won’t charge them, it won't be a daily thing but they can pop in every once in a while at your office so you can review and work on assignments and such. The hesitant look on their face seems to slowly be melting off.

You continue insisting, you lay out the facts as they are; they’re a brilliant student who has been passing all other courses and extracurricular activities with flying colors, so why is that your course has become such a challenge to them? You’be seen them work and the way they behave during class, you’ve even noticed how some students go to them to try and clear up any questions and study together with them, rumors about them being easily one of the college’s star students were always going around, so it’s either that they’re making shit up and lying to their peers, which you doubt since you’ve seen their works before and after reaching out to them, or they were purposefully trying to fail your class, maybe they thought it’d be easier and decided to try it and decided from the get go not do their best – after all, it wasn’t as if all of the work they’ve handed is bad, there’s some clear understanding of what they’re doing, it’s just that they seem insistent on missing something, even if it means inconsistencies in their resume of work, the assignments that made up less percentage of the overall grade were done well enough but anything that was important was clearly half-assed. You explain your concern; you’re genuinely worried your class might hold them back from graduating with their peers, if things kept going on like this, they’d fail your class and if they did, they’d have to repeat the semester and risk graduating a year or so later.

It’s then that they pull out a card they’d been holding on to dearly for a situation such as this, a perfectly curated story meant to pull at your heartstrings and lead you into their honey sweet trap;

They start going on about a sob story about their parents’ jobs, how they were struggling financially for a while since their parents cut them partially off for choosing a college out of their town, and how they’re supposed to provide for themselves for things such as food and bills, about how their schedule is always so busy trying to balance college, their friendships, mending their relationship with their parents, and their job on top of all studying they’ve been doing, how your class had unfortunately been the least of their concerns and that they’re immensely sorry to have worried you and that they are willing to do anything to make up for their past grades.

You can empathize with such a dilemma, being fresh out of college yourself, the memories of balancing relationships, work, and academics are still freshly etched into your mind.

They clearly seem burned out and your heart aches seeing a student as promising as themselves dim down so drastically. You’d hate to be one class that impedes them from graduating on time, you don't want to be the lone profesor responsible for slowing down such a valuable asset to society.

You sit them down and try to offer them some advice, you were in a similar situation when you were in college yourself, you try to explain the ways you managed to survive and bypass college, going into detail about your own problems and how you were able to live through it all. They seem visibly more relaxed during the conversation, nodding along and explaining their own feelings and hardships, you both manage to sympathize with each other and come to an arrangement.

It’s completely under the table since you are worried what it might look like, but from now on until the end of this semester you’d use a more relaxed, less strict grading system for them, after all, they did have a legitimate reason for their behavior and they were willing to make up for it. That is, under the condition that they start taking tutoring classes from either yourself or a fellow classmate, they weren’t able to balance the studying schedule necessary so you’d try and manage at least one aspect of it for them to try and make their life a little bit easier.

They agree gladly, but not before asking if you could be the tutor, when you’d questioned their request they explain themselves, seemingly embarrassed for their own reasoning;

“I don’t want it to get out that I’m failing your class, professor…” The smile they wear seems genuine and shy and you nod in understanding, college students are only older teenagers, after all, most of them are still stuck in their high school mentality and you wouldn’t put it past a bunch of immature little shits to try and mess with someone who was struggling.

What you don’t know is that they’ve been planning for something like this to happen from the get go, always going out of their way to purposefully present themselves as a stupid, pathetic and incompetent student that would need their hot professor’s (your) help to pass the course.

During your first couple of sessions they work extra hard to make themselves seem as ditzy and clueless as possible, making as many mistakes and errors as humanly reasonable without getting you too annoyed at them. They even begin to dress in slightly more provocative ways, their speech seems more flirtatious, their touches linger on your shoulders for longer than necessary, but you brush it off, trying to ignore the signs, and think of it as a silly crush, opting to try to focus on helping them get through this semester with either a decent or average grade.

Their grades are getting better but with the current pace, you were afraid it wouldn’t be enough.

So, you ignore the uncomfortable, sinking feeling in your gut and suggest making your tutoring sessions more frequent - instead of once a week maybe twice or thrice if it was really necessary.

You didn’t expect them to suggest going to your place. Originally, you’d suggested either the library or a cafe, but they said they felt too embarrassed and self-conscious at the idea of their peers watching him, they claimed they’d probably make fun of them for needing help for a course they’d been taking for almost a whole semester at that point.

They insist on your place, but you reject the idea, they say it’s either there or at their place because elsewhere you both risk either staff or some of the student body seeing you both together and getting the wrong idea. The conversation goes on for hours until you’re exhausted and give in.

They are a good person, right? Even if the thought of a student knowing where you lived made you uncomfortable, it wasn’t like they’d do anything about it… right?

You try to limit the study space to your living room, the bathroom, and the kitchen every once in a while if you notice the snacks you had brought weren’t enough, but never further than that. Your bedroom and office were completely off limits, you’d made it explicitly clear that if you caught them wandering far you’d have no choice but to kick them out and stop the tutoring, possibly even having to call the campus’ authorities if you felt they were getting too out of line – your reputation be damned.

They also were only allowed to come over during the weekends and on specific weekdays where no one would be able to catch him entering your apartment.

They agree and promise to follow every single one of the rules you’d put in place.

But it doesn’t take long for them to start going back on their word and start “exploring” your living space, it started small – simply walking around your living room, examining framed pictures, looking over books, memorizing the placement of your trinkets and decor, making a mental note of the colors you used in the space, they make sure to remember to try and look up where you got your cushions and everything as well, they start looking into you fridge and pantry to make see what you eat, if there’s any indication of a possible food allergy; it’s all investigative work for your future together. It’s not too long before they’ve memorized your living room and are drawn to the rest of your house. They've gone to your bedroom and studied the space, taking note of the way you made your bed and how many pillows you have, they also have made a list of products you use and like, such as scents and soaps, to make sure your transition to their place is as smooth as possible. Soon, they could very well draw a floor plan of your place and recreate your home in the most basic of softwares.

The only reason you haven’t caught up to them is because they’ve taken to spiking your drinks with sleep medication, strong enough dosages that you’ll be knocked out for a while, but not enough that you’ll realize you were drugged.

It’s during your sleeping state that the next part of their plan starts to take action. They’ll purposefully plant evidence in your home of their presence and snap pictures, suddenly their underwear is in your laundry basket, and why are you wearing their hoodies to sleep, huh? They’re meticulously planned and staged pictures that make it look like you were engaging in a romantic relationship, but it’s not enough — they need more, something more extreme. More incriminating, something that would absolutely destroy your career and reputation if it came out.

What about a picture of them going down on you? Or one with their cum all over your face? Your naked figure cuddling up to their bare chest? Some makeup to look like hickies could look realistic in pictures too, you know. Maybe them on top of you… or you on top of them? Or one where your lips are sucking their fingers like a —! Ah, the thought has them blushing! All of these photos are like their dreams come true! You look like such a perfect spouse, taking their love~ They make sure to clean up the space, but they’re growing bolder and more confident in their work.

They even have videos of themselves jacking off on top of you, but they’re always so good at making it seem like you’re awake and participating in these activities! It really does look like you’re helping them get off with your own mouth.

You’re such a naughty professor seducing your innocent, sweet student like that!

It’s sick, they’re sick and they know it fully well but they don’t care, as long as they don’t get caught – there’s no way in hell they’ll stop.

Their grades begin improving and there’s no longer any fear of them failing your class, in fact you’d go as far to say they’ve easily become one of your best students in terms of grades. Things seem to be looking up and you’re pretty proud of yourself for having had a positive impact on them, which is why you come to the conclusion they won’t be needing your tutoring anymore.

You call them over to your office after classes, making sure to be as nice as possible. At first you were annoyed and put off by them, their initial behavior was unsettling and persistent, but after a couple of months of getting to know them you’ve grown to care for them and genuinely wish them the best, you’d pointed out how teaching them had been a joy and you’d always end the sessions feeling better than before, which is why you’d chosen to end the tutoring. You lay out the facts as they are, their grades have improved and there’s no longer any threat of them failing your class, you’d also be risking people misunderstanding the situation if it went any longer, if word came out you’d been using a different rubric to grade them until recently and that they’d been going over to your place, it would simply look bad for both of you. You’d risk getting sanctioned, possibly even losing your job if things were taken in the wrong way, and they could repeat the semester or even have their work in your class be null and having to take a new course entirely, if not even being kicked out.

There’s a minute of silence between the two of you, the air is thick and you wonder if you should have been softer in your delivery as you watch them process your words.

It takes them a while, you decide to give them the time because you have indeed noticed how they’d seem to grow ever so attached to you and they might take this a bit too personally, but you’re soon starting to grow increasingly uncomfortable as the silence continues.

You’re about to say something again, try to soften the blow with some generic encouragement about how they’ll do well regardless of you being their tutor or not, when you hear them chuckle softly under their breath.

You’re taken aback, your eyes widen in surprise and you unconsciously lean back into your chair, but that seems to have further encouraged their laughter as soon they’re covering their face with the back of their hand as they double over in laughter.

It’s strange but you decide to give them a few seconds to regain their composure, maybe this was a nervous habit? You’d heard of people who’d laugh when anxious, but you’d never seen something so theatrical.

They slowly sit back up, wiping tears from their eyes as a few chuckles escape their smiling lips. They haven’t fully calmed down but seem to be making an effort to continue the conversation nonetheless.

“Ah, professor,” your last name tumbles from their lips in a joyous manner but their eyes look icy as they stare at you, their voice feels more aggressive even if the words came out from a smile, “don’t be so ridiculous, I think things are working pretty well as they are, I have no desire to change our… relationship.”

You’re taken by surprise, their word choice feels odd and purposeful, but you insist regardless.

“There is no relationship between us,” you state, “I am your professor, do you understand? That means that if I say your tutoring is over, it’s over; I have been going easy on you and helping you out but do not misinterpret my intentions, you are my student and that’s where our acquaintanceship ends. If you think you’ll continue needing help, I’m certain our TA will be more than glad to step up and help you out.”

They smile as they take their phone out of their pocket and your stomach drops for a second, wondering what on earth they could have there. They slide it towards you after unlocking it, they’re carefree in their handling of the device and your nerves start to rise, a gut wrenching feeling settles in your stomach, you don’t really understand what you’re seeing at first but once you do you feel your blood run cold.

You don’t even realize they’ve walked behind your chair, too focused on the picture of your naked body cuddling up to their equally nude form. They’re smiling, tenderly caressing your bare shoulders, embracing your body in such a loving manner it looked like you were lovers. When… When did they take this?

Your voice is shaking but they don’t answer you, instead opting to crouch beside you and show you the hundreds of incriminating pictures themselves.

They start telling you a story based on the pictures, the one they seemed to be telling you even if you knew that everything they depicted was fake, about a promiscuous professor that seduced their student, coaxed them into a relationship and took advantage of their position to influence the student into falling in love with them.

You want to tell them it won’t work, threaten to call the dean or the campus police, but they quickly clear out any confusion; “Would anyone believe a student would seduce a teacher and that it’s not the other way around?”

You know exactly what they mean; you’re the professor, you hold the authority. You had never been able to put a stop to it because you had no idea what they were doing but that didn’t matter, it was your word against theirs and they had “evidence”.

They seem proud of themselves too, telling you about all the ways they set up the rooms and photos to make sure they looked as real as possible. They’d taken their clothes and belongings over to your place in secret, made sure to apply makeup in the right places with the correct lighting, it seriously felt like an art they’d perfected.

You ask them what they could possibly want, clearly it couldn’t be only your tutoring if they were going this far. They smile and tell you they simply want a relationship with you, one that goes beyond a professor and a student; from that day onwards they wanted to be your lover.

You want to say no, but they remind you of the position you’re in; “You know, I’ve got these backed up in a bunch of places, it’d be a shame if one leaked, right, professor?”

You feel numb as they lock the door of your office and guide you on top of your desk, you barely even register them going down on you - stripping you naked and giving you oral. From that day onward, you were a prisoner to your own student.

Everyday, they’d act like any other person taking your classes, going to college, making friends, as if when your work day ended they didn’t torment you under the guise of love. Making themselves into your lover without your consent, as if you weren’t their professor, as if they weren’t your student. They celebrate your birthday and make you celebrate theirs, you go on dates outside of town so as to not be caught, there are times you almost forget the perverse nature of your relationship - but it always comes back to haunt you. They always come back to haunt you.

They make sure not to show any of the images to anyone for as long as they’re going to the college. They need to keep an eye on you, make sure your looks and personality don’t charm any other student - they’d hate to get rid of their classmates due to your unknowing seduction. They’re so good at acting like they weren’t bending you over your kitchen counter the minute they followed you home, you’d almost believe they were only your innocent, well meaning student if they didn’t send you videos of you two fucking as extra-curriculum activities.

They also take your courses religiously to make sure to always be in contact with you; you could never escape them, they’ll follow you home and come inside even if you try to shut the door behind you. Whenever you tried changing the lock they'd find a way to break in anyway, on campus they’d sneakily follow you everywhere and harass you. Those who notice, the few that do, think of it as cute, an innocent puppy crush that would fade by next semester.

It’s not until they gets their diploma three years later that they releases a drive full of the videos and pictures, making sure to add dates and location, everything to prove you were fucking a student. You were a whore of a professor seducing their students.

You’re fired immediately and it’s not long until your friends and family cut contact with you for seducing a poor college student and using your power over them as leverage. Nobody wants to hire you, they’d make sure to document every single dirty detail of your relationship so as to ruin your reputation until you’d be forced to turn to the only person who didn’t turn their back on you.

You can only walk into their open arms as they suggest finally moving in together, possibly getting married, and maybe even having a couple of children now that they have graduated and received their degree.

But even through it all, they still have the audacity to call you their beloved “professor”.

Characters: Lisa (GI), Scaramouche (GI), Al-Haitham (GI), Kaeya (GI), Ayato (GI), Jing Yuan (HSR), Luocha (HSR), Aventurine (HSR), Vyn (TOT), Rafayel (L&DS), Ibara (ENSTARS), Eichi (ENSTARS), Yuzuru (ENSTARS), Cater (TWST), Rook (TWST), Kylar (DOL), Whitney (DOL), literally anyone you want really (TT)

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hollowed-theory-hall · 18 days

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what would tom riddle's patronus?

Okay, it took me some time to answer this ask since I needed to spend some time thinking. I didn't really have an answer in mind until your question. It's just something I apparently never thought about. So I was interested in finding the most canon-adjacent answer I can for if Tom Riddle/Voldemort could cast a patronus, what would it be.

So, my approach to finding the right animal was based on a few factors, the first of which:

How exactly is the form your Patronus takes determined?

Because we don't actually get a straight answer in the books. We know Patroni can change with a person, but we don't exactly get an answer on what their form represents and why some couples have matching Patroni.

Basically, I don't know what you expected, Anon, but what you're getting is some rambling about the magical theory behind the Patronus charm followed by why that means Tom gets a certain animal over another.

So, let's start with the basics, the incantation:

"Expecto Patronum"

This is in Latin and literally translates to: "I await/expect a defender"

And Remus Lupin explains what the Patronus charm is as:

“Well, when it works correctly, it conjures up a Patronus,” said Lupin, “which is a kind of anti-dementor — a guardian that acts as a shield between you and the dementor.” ... “The Patronus is a kind of positive force, a projection of the very things that the dementor feeds upon — hope, happiness, the desire to survive — but it cannot feel despair, as real humans can, so the dementors can’t hurt it. But I must warn you, Harry, that the charm might be too advanced for you. Many qualified wizards have difficulty with it.”

(POA, page 237)

We also know the patronus is cast by thinking of a happy memory — well, not really. The memory isn't really important; the emotion is. The memory is to help you have the right happy feelings that can fuel a Patronus. "You got to mean it" just like with an unforgivable.

So, what does it tell us about the Patronus:

We have a defender made out of happiness, literally.

This already sounds like something Tom Riddle would struggle with. I don't really see canon Tom Riddle/Voldemort being capable of producing one, but let's assume he can in some hypothetical AU. Let's take a look at a few patroni to see how their form is chosen and why.

Obviously, we have Harry's (and James') stag. A stag symbolizes many things in different cultures, but deer (both Stags and Does, like Lily and Snape) in general symbolize:

The cycle of life and death

Agility and grace

Bravery

Nobility

All this fits the Potters quite well. The nobility and bravery of Gryffindor and the cycle between life and death. Stags actually represent regeneration, as in a return from death, which fits with the Potters' connection to the Paverells and death perfectly.

Stags also symbolize authority, strength, leadership, and fatherhood, while does symbolize femininity, grace, intuition, and devotion. All in all, both animals fit James and Lily well. And while the stag does fit Harry (to a degree), I don't think his Patronus represents him.

I think Harry's patronus is a stag because James' patronus was a stag. Harry was actually convinced his father cast the Patronus when he first saw it in POA. And it makes sense.

I don't remember where I saw this theory, but it essentially was that your patrons would represent a person or an idea that you feel will defend you. It's why certain couples have matching Patroni, why a Patronus can change when you or your feelings about people change.

And Harry, when he casts his Patronus, the idea of his father who he never knew but would have protected him is the idea represented in Harry's Patronus. It's a stag like James' not because Harry and James are so similar (they have very different personalities actually) but because Harry's Patronus is James. It's a stag because James was a stag, and Harry is calling the concept of his father to defend him.

Following this logic, Lily's Patronus is a doe, because she is the doe. Lily's defender is herself. Courageous, noble, graceful and devoted. Lily's devotion to her son is what literally sets the series into motion. The reason she and James match is that they always have. He was always represented by the stag and she was always represented by the doe. Their Patroni aren't matching because of their relationship with each other, but because they are so compatible their Patroni matched from the get-go.

Snape's Patronus is a doe because of Lily. Lily is represented by the doe. As she was Snape's first friend and defender, whenever he calls for a protector, it's Lily.

Let's look at a few other Patroni, like Hermione's otter:

Playfulness

Joy

Family and close-knit friendships

Loyalty

All of this doesn't really sound like Hermione. Ron's Jack Russell Terrier on the other hand:

Loyalty

Courage

Playfulness

Cleverness

Protectiveness

Tanasity

Does sound very in line with who Ron is.

But then who does Hermione's otter represent? Well, an otter is from the weasel family and the list of characteristics looks closer to Ron's list of traits than Hermione's. I think Hermione's otter represents Ron who did step in to defend her since the troll incident in their first year multiple times.

So, where does that leave Tom Riddle?

Well, we established the Patronus becomes your defender, and in Tom's case, it'll be himself. Tom is distrustful and sees himself as more capable than anyone else. Not to mention he never had a real connection or person in his life he could call upon to defend him. So, whatever animal his Patronus is would represent himself as his own defender.

So, which animal represents Tom best?

The first animal I thought of, is of course: the serpent. Snakes are heavily associated with Tom (for obvious reasons) and is an animal we know he has a soft spot for. When looking at what snakes represent, you can see why he is associated with them:

Deceit

Transformation

Power

Regeneration and rebirth (shedding their skin)

Healing (Cadcadeus)

For the most part, the list seems to fit him well. Specifically their association with rebirth and the cycle of life and death by shedding their skin. Deceit and power are also right up Tom's alley. And even transformation considering he rewrote his entire identity to become Voldemort.

But, just "snake" wasn't good enough for me, I wanted to know which kind. And as I wanted his Patronus to be as rare as Harry's stag, I went to the list of official Pottermore possible Patroni to find a snake that is as hard to get in the test as the stag while not being magical.

(Magical Patroni are incredibly rare and to have yourself represented by a magical creature in your Patronus you need to be incredibly unique or incredibly full of yourself. At least, that's how I see it)

And low and behold, there was one on the aforementioned list:

The King Cobra

So I looked up if this snake has any interesting additional unique symbolism that would fit Tom. And, well, there was:

Authority and Leadership

Aggression and Fearlessness

Destruction and Creation

Intelligence and Cunning

Which all in all sounds fitting for Tom Riddle.

I also continued reading and apparently, snakes are associated with lightning by some Native American tribes. And when I saw that I was sold on the idea. Considering how the killing curse is represented by lightning (Harry's scar and the lightning-struck tower being the name of the chapter Dumbledore dies in). It feels appropriate with Tom's connection with snakes.

The King Cobra is actually not really a Cobra and is considered a unique breed of snake, which Tom would approve of. It's also the longest venomous snake and its venom can result in a rapid fatality, as soon as 30 minutes following a bite. It's also a cannibal snake that eats other snakes, including its own kind.

Overall it just fits perfectly, both in traits, symbolism, and how rare and dangerous it is. So, for your question, I think Tom Riddle's Patronus, if he could cast one, would be a King Cobra.

#harry potter #harry potter thoughts #hp #hp thoughts #lord voldemort #hollowedheadcanon #voldemort analysis #voldemort #tom riddle #tom marvolo riddle #patronus #patronus charm #hp headcanon #anon asks #asks #anonymous

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taccobelle · 11 months

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Teenage Dirtbag

Paring: Eddie x fem!reader, Eddie x Cheerleader!Reader

Word count: 2.9k

Summary: In the small town of Hawkins, Pixie Dunphy, and Eddie Munson couldn't be more different, living in a small town like Hawkins, where rumors define you. Pixie is a charming and independent girl who seems to have it all. Pixie is adored by many in Hawkins High, Eddie, on the other hand, is the school's freak. Their paths cross unexpectedly, igniting a love story that defies expectations, learning they have much more in common than they initially thought.

Authors note: Hiya! this is my very first story🫣 (that I have made public). I really hope you all enjoy reading this, I truly tried my hardest to make this as good as possible, but please be kind 🥹

Warnings: language, slow burn, opposites attract, she/her pronouns, the reader is FAB, Eddie might be a little shit, I gave the reader a nickname because y/n is so cringe. There is no mention of race, but I do occasionally describe what Pixie looks like, but those are subtle enough that you can ignore it!

Chapter One: The Notorious Rumors

As I cautiously navigated the foreign halls of Hawkins High, my heart raced with anticipation and uncertainty, school would start next week, but the halls flooded with freshmen and their mentors, getting a tour of the decrepit building, an attempt of avoiding the inevitable, the freshmen being lost on their first day. You can’t help but relate to those poor kids. Entering the halls of this high school, knowing damn well that the fact that Hawkins High is small, is exactly what makes it that much scarier. Tiny meant close knit, everyone knew each other from birth, and you were just an unwelcome stranger. You huff in frustration, realizing the freshmen had one leg above you, they at least had pre-existing friends from junior high, you on the other hand, knew nobody.

Being the new girl in a sea of familiar faces would be like treading on uncharted territory. A group of teenage girls, all adorning white and green cheer uniforms, hairs perfectly in place, tied in a fashionable ponytail stood in front of the packed bulletin board, near the principals office. The group of girls chatted away, each holding printed out copies of extracurricular activities offered for the fall, pretending to show any interest in the activity. They looked as if they owned the building, displaying fake smiles, whispering about every person that walked by, commenting on their shoes, if they had volunteered to hand out sideways glances, they’d get their credits immediately. This all only heightened my anxieties, their presence made me feel like an outsider, an alien amidst the established cliques and well-worn friendships. But then, like a shimmering ray of sunshine piercing through stormy clouds, she appeared before me. “Hey there! You must be the new girl Higgins told me about, I’m Chrissy!" a cheerful voice called out, I turned to find a girl with a crooked smile, strawberry blonde ponytail, flashing a genuine smile that instantly dissolved my worries. You introduce yourself as Pixie Dunphy and explained that Pixie is not even actually your name, it was a nickname your grandpa had given you as a kid because of your short stature, and it just sort of stuck.

Chrissy showed you around the school, going on about which teachers were a pain, and which weren’t, the school policies, and which table was the best to sit at during lunch. The halls of Hawkins high couldn’t have looked more like a maze to you, surprised how a school so small, could be so confusing, the walls filled with posters and fading pieces of art projects made by past students, lockers that resembled a bumpy road, adorned with dents and grooves from the years of nerds being shoved against them. The chipped paint on the wall gave away the lack of maintenance, and the yellowed lights above on the drop down ceiling flickered with every gust of wind. As you both rounded the corner, back to the bulletin board by the principals office, you see all the posters for sports and clubs the cheerleaders had been holding pretending to pass out to fulfill their community service hours requirement for graduation. “You know, we’re having tryouts this tomorrow at 10, I know it’s short notice, but u can talk to coach to let you bring in your physical when school starts off. . . It is just that I noticed you looking at the flyers” Chrissy’s voice startled you out of your day dream, her warm smile brought you back to reality. it is true that you had previously been eyeing the flyer, it is a sure way to make friends, and you had been part of the cheer team in your old school as well, you had thought about joining anyways, but the ironic group of girls that lacked any sort of cheerful bone in their body kind of made you get cold feet.

In the end of the tour, Chrissy and I stood by the front door waiting for your rides home, you both spend hours waiting for your parents to arrive to pick you up, you found out you both lived near each other, meeting her had given you hope. Hope that maybe things in Hawkins would be so bad, maybe you’d get along just fine. After finding you you two will basically be neighbors, she mentions something about a party on Saturday, something about it being the last of the summer before school started back up in the fall, the small amount you both had exchanged, made her invitation not feel unexpected, Chrissy even offered a ride. What could go wrong? I needed to socialize if I didn’t want to be some outcast. It felt like a golden ticket into a world of belonging and acceptance, a chance to shed the label of the "new girl" and find my place among the vibrant tapestry of high school life. In Hawkins, the opinions others had of you determined how others would treat you. In this tiny town, full of people with even tinier brains, one rumor could determine a person’s whole life. As I mulled over Chrissy’s invitation, a whirlwind of emotions swirled within me, excitement danced in my veins, a symphony of nerves and doubt as I imagined myself at the party, surrounded by laughter and music, feeling like I belonged for the first time since my arrival. I had never been the outcast, always had made friends easily in school, but it wasn’t anything like Hawkins. Hawkins felt claustrophobic, like a small box of a high school. Chrissy’s invitation was a glimmer of a future where I wouldn't be an alien, where I could forge connections and weave myself into the intricate threads of teenage camaraderie. In the face of uncertainty, I chose to embrace the invitation, to believe in the kindness behind Chrissy’s smile.

When it came around the time of the party, you take one last look at yourself in the full-length mirror hanging from the inside of your closet door, boxes haphazardly stacked on top of each other full of unpacked clothes, decoration, and untouched sticker packets you have been saving for a “special day” to use them. You take a minute to look over every detail of your outfit. You had spent your whole Friday afternoon at the mall with Chrissy picking out the perfect outfit for tonight. You had settled on a pair of white Keds you already owned, with wool white socks that bunched up around your ankles, a bubblegum pink sweater with a white turtleneck collar underneath, and a denim pencil skirt that reached slightly below the middle of your thighs. Chrissy had convinced you to wear the skirt, it was a little short for your liking, considering you haven’t worn a skirt this short since you were about 14 and Jennifer McLaughlin pointed out how thick your thighs were, and offered to lend her mother’s copy of the Jazzercise VHS for the summer. You had tried curling your hair with the heatless curling rods you secretly took from your mother’s room, making a secret bet with yourself how long the curls would hold up, your hair being way too slick to hold them for more than 2 hours. You fixed your wispy bangs and tied half your hair you with your favorite scrunchie, matching the color of your eyeshadow, which was a pink of Pepto Bismol, and glossy lips.

You looked nice, nice was good; nice would get the kids at this god forsaken town to like you. Chrissy had said she’d be over to pick you up at your house at 8:30pm, you look at the digital clock laying on your desk, and curse under your breath, you were going to be late. “…shit” Pixie huffs out making haste to grab her purse and house keys her dad had given, he the new copies earlier today, making her promise not to lose it in 5 minutes like always. Once she got downstairs, she sees Chrissy sitting in the front seat of her boyfriend’s burgundy wood panel Ford Station Wagon Jason had gotten as a birthday gift earlier in the year. Pixie makes her way down the steps of her suburbia home, and made her way into the back seat, sitting behind Jason to get a better look at her friend. “It’s no problem at all, Jay would be coming this way anyways, I live two streets down” Crissy says with a cheery tone “So, you excited? You look so nice” Chrissy said, turning her body back to have a better look at her friend. I feel your face start to heat up from the comment, I gently smile and express my gratitude and buckle up, I clear my throat and say “Jeez, thanks Chris, you look amazing as well! I take a deep breath and chuckles out her answer “I’m a little nervous” I take a deep breath and continue with a chuckle “but I think it’ll be fun” I feel Jason’s eyes on me, preparing to say something.

As they arrive Pixie looks out the window. The house was considerably larger than the others on the street, it was a pale shade of green, and was littered with teenagers talking around on the lawn. The song was booming from the inside of the house, and it belonged to one Steve Harrington, Chrissy said that the 16-year-old had the house to himself after his parents went on a business trip very often, frequently throwing the raddest parties that anyone who was someone, was invited to. Chrissy mumbled a quick hello to the girls sitting on the couch with red solo cups in their hands, grabbing my hand, dragging me across the sea of people in such haste you’d think her life depended on it. In high school, everyone has an “identifier” a descriptive word, that everyone will associate it to you for the full four years—or how many years it takes for you to graduate. Tommy Fletcher’s identifier was “Angel face” Tommy just had this face to him, that made people almost want to trust him from the get-go.

It was at that party where Pixie met Tommy, they hadn’t really talked much, but when Tommy asked if you wanted a ride home, you didn’t sense any malice in his words. That is how whispers began to ripple through the streets, carrying with them an account that had the power to stir curiosity and ignite judgment. It was a false rumor, a tangled web spun by idle minds, woven with threads of teenage gossip, and embellished with imaginations eager for scandal by the elder women of the town. According to the murmurs that churned like a hidden undercurrent. The vicious rumor began with none other than Tommy boy himself. Tommy felt the pressure of his friends’ questioning gazes after he had giving Pixie a ride home. Not confirming nor denying his pal’s suggestions of going past first base, when in fact Tommy had gone in for kiss as he parked his car in front of her modest house but failed miserably spilling Pixie’s drink on her lap. Too embarrassed to admit his lack of game, he just said something about not kissing and telling, and their futures forever altered. The truth, obscured by the thick fog of gossip, remained elusive, leaving Pixie to bear the burden of a rumor born from the whispers of a small town's collective imagination.

That is how Pixie got her very own identifier, as a matter of fact, Pixie got multiple identifiers. From that party on, Pixie started to be known as "easy" and "Hawkins whore." The shit these people will come up with is unbelievable. The rumors spread like wildfire through the halls of Hawkins High, each murmur chipping away at Pixie's resilience, threatening to tarnish her spirit. But Pixie, with a strength hidden beneath her delicate frame, refused to let these cruel words define her. Instead, she clung to the unwavering support Chrissy had shown her, Chrissy saw beyond the gossip and knew them to be untrue, stood by her side, solidifying their friendship even further. Every day they’d walk to and from school together, seeing as they only lived two blocks away from each other. Chrissy's unwavering support and friendship became Pixie's sustenance, a constant reminder that she was not alone in the trenches of the American school system. With Chrissy's support, Pixie found the courage to rise above the malicious rumors, and chose to defy expectations thrust upon her, everyone thought she’d shrivel away and hide. Anyone else with an identifier like that would. But not Pixie, choosing to rebel against the rumors, and in defiance, Pixie joined the cheer squad the following month. It was a decision that sent shockwaves through the school, challenging the judgments and assumptions that had been cast upon her. Though some still regarded her with a lingering skepticism, Pixie discovered a newfound sense of belonging among the spirited cheerleaders. The support and camaraderie within the team became a shield, warding off the arrows of judgment that continued to be hurled her way. Yet, even with her newfound confidence and belonging, Pixie couldn't escape the persistent advances of boys who believed the rumors to be true. Their unwelcome attention became a bitter reminder that the stain of gossip could be stubborn to wash away. However, Pixie refused to let their misguided perceptions diminish her worth or tarnish her spirit. She stood tall, armed with resilience and an unwavering belief in her own truth. Pixie's journey through the tangled web of rumors and judgments was not without its scars. It tested her strength and resilience, leaving behind wounds that would heal with time. But she carried on, navigating the intricacies of high school life and her untiring belief in her own worth.

As Pixie walked out the house, the crisp morning air hit her skin, sending a chill down her spine. Pixie never dressed for the weather, she dressed for the fashion, always trying to mirror the magazine covers. Today’s ensemble would embrace the essence of the times, it included a pair of form-fitting acid-washed jeans, hugging her figure with a rebellious edge. The jeans, featuring strategically placed rips and frayed edges, you choose a pink oversized sweater, slouchy and comfortable. It would drape casually over your shoulders, and exposing your collarbone, and giving off an air of nonchalant confidence. To complete her outfit, she would slip into a pair of high-top sneakers, their pristine white canvas sneakers that exuded an athletic-chic air and added a touch of sporty flair to her look. Accessories played an integral role in Pixies fashion, a collection of jelly bracelets, stacked high on her wrists, would jingle melodically with each movement, letting everyone know once she had walked into a room, a testament to her trendsetting status. Oversized hoop earrings, gleaming with metallic finishes, framed her face perfectly and added a touch of glamour. Your makeup of the day was a delicate light purple eyeshadow, thick lashes made darker with mascara, eyebrows perfectly in place, and lips were adorned with gloss, shining n shades of hot pink, amplifying her radiant smile.

As the students make their way into the halls of Hawkins High, Pixie’s day began like any other, spirit radiating with confidence, she gracefully navigated the bustling corridors. Conversations and laughter filled your ears as you weaved through the throng of students, your presence attracting friendly smiles like moths to a flame. As you approach your locker, the familiar chatter of your circle of friends caught your attention, pulling you in animated conversations, going on about the outfits in Whitney Houston’s new music video. As the bell rang, books and notebooks were quickly retrieved from the organized chaos of your locker. Walking into class before the second bell rang, you gave Ms. O’Donnell a tight-lipped smile, a silent apology for rushing into class right before the bell. It’s not like you absolutely loved Ms.O’Donell as a person, but the teacher adores you! Ever since you had helped the woman in the library carrying the mountain of books, she has taken a liking to you, always brushing minor tardies under the rug, you weren’t complaining. But you couldn’t deny the way your teacher’s voice never failed to lull you to sleep, just as you were about to start to doze off into a comfortable nap, a rushing mop of dark curls comes bursting into the room. “Late again Mr.Munson” O’Donnell’s graining voice pointed out the painfully obvious.

Eddie Munson, identifier: Freak. Eddie had a distinctive sense of style, everything that he wore screamed that. Eddie's wore a pair of well-worn dark denim jeans, cuffed at the bottom, bore the marks of a well-worn piece of clothing. He wore his favorite band T-shirt, faded just enough to give it character. Always adding layers to his outfit, Eddie wore his customized jean jacket, heavy with pins of various sizes. On his feet, Eddie would sport a pair of worn-in white sneakers, his bulky studded belt and his folded bandana tucked away in his back pocket. Eddie’s outfit, much like your own, perfectly reflect your personalities. Eddie looked down, being caught trying to sneak into the room, he grinned had the back her O’Donnell’s head, and took a seat in the back of the room, near the right corner. You never understood why everyone hated him so much. I mean sure, he can be kind of annoying sometimes, with all his screeching and hollering in the halls, or his disinterest in school, but cult leader was a bit much, it’s literally a board game, nerd shit. He is just a geek, that has it out to lose his hearing, with the type of music he enjoys listening. You’ve come to learn not to judge a person solely based on rumors.

You had always enjoyed joining extracurricular activities, you knew it looked nice in your college applications. So, when Higgins suggested you be the head of a study group afterschool, of course you said yes. Higgins had said I would be able to pick the time and date, but to be able to earn credit, It would have to be at least once a week. You had agreed to do it every Wednesday, after cheer practice, it’d be a taxing to administer this tutoring business, and cheer every week, you would have to rush to the library after cheer practice on Wednesdays. You were a little nervous to meet the kids you’d be tutoring. Higgins hadn’t given you names, only a number. It would be you, and two other students inside the stuffy study room in the back corner of the clammy library.

You slugged your compact backpack on your left shoulder, heavy with thick textbooks, the canvas material of the straps making a permanent dent on your soft skin, leaving a red mark where it rested. Making your way to through the empty school hallway, a profound sense of anticipation hangs suspended, the ache from practice making its way up your back thigh. The distant hum and flicker of fluorescent lights, their yellowed glow casting long shadows along the vacant corridor. That is when you meet the eyes of Principal Higgins, the look on his face displayed a certain amount of concern. As you approached him, he stood in the way of the entrance of the library. “There has been a change of plans Ms. Dunphy” he pauses, almost looking for words “…Ms. O’Donnell has informed me that Amelia Richardson won’t be needing tutoring any longer…so, it will be only you and Mr. Munson.” Munson? You hadn’t known you’d be tutoring Eddie. You don’t have anything against him per say, you feel bad for him even, in the unfair way people treat the guy. But one thing remains true, Eddie Munson was intimidating, perhaps it was on purpose. The hair, the clothes, the chains, and tattoos don’t really make him look like a boy next door. You would manage, you had never interacted with Eddie before, but he was hard to miss, making his presence known in every room possible. After you gave your principle a tiny acknowledgement as you passed by him, making your way to the study room. You knew Higgin’s worry stemmed from the fact that your father had recently made an extremely generous donation of new textbooks to the school earlier this year, he was rather important in town. As you make your way into the musty room, your body reacts before you can hold back. Stopping in your tracks, holding the handle, you lock eyes with the metal head. You knew he’d be the one you would tutor, you thought you’d have time before he showed up. He sat there like he was in his living room, feet up on the table, chewing on the end of a pencil, patiently waiting for your arrival. The foreign feeling of his eyes fully locked on yours, causing all the hairs in your body to stand up. “Cats gotcha tongue Tink?”

I really hope you guys enjoyed this first chapter, I have so much planned for these characters. Please be patient with me as I am definitely not a pro at this yet, but I will get the hang of it!

If you have any sort of constructive feedback, feel free to leave them down below! I’d love them 🫰🏼 leave a heart for support, or repost for double support 🫶🏼🥹

Much love,

Belle.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #slow burn #stranger things #eddie munson x cheerleader!reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson masterlist

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sansxfuckyou · 7 months

Text

Aurora

Summary: Kyle underestimates how easy it is to just say whatever comes to mind when you're tired, so does Kenny.

Warnings: swearing, accidental confessions, check Ao3 port for full tags

Authors Note: the stargazing fluff won the poll, so I hope ya'll enjoy it. it took me a bit longer to write than expected, but I'd say the visualizations turned out pretty good. I was sort of going for a warm feeling, like, home cooked meals 'n fuzzy blankets, but in written form- it's just a soft and fluffy fic, with a very specific vibe I tried to emulate.

Kyle really wishes he was a heavy sleeper when the sound of his phone vibrating atop his desk wakes him up. He just listens for a brief moment, staring at the dull ceiling of the bedroom he's been trapped in for so many years. He reaches out to answer it and pulls it relatively close to his ear.

"Whoever's calling, you're going to get kicked in the nuts so hard your heart skips a beat," Kyle threatened, his grogginess counters it easily. For a second he thinks they hung up, then their voice comes across the receiver.

"Damn okay, never call the smartest guy I know ever again," Kenny said, a bit of a chuckle on his voice.

That hot-wires something in Kyle because he's sitting up and swinging his legs over the edge of the bed. Any previous sleepiness is easily stifled and snuffed out. He glances to his clock, "Your sleep medication wore off early again?"

Kenny gave a hum, "Yep, can't have anymore until two AM because it's a prescription, and I can't have it off schedule. And, and, and- you know how it is."

"Right, so you decide to call me at midnight because why?" Kyle asked as he stood up and made his way to his closet. It's not like he's falling asleep again anytime soon, might as well slip into something more practical. He grabs a jacket and his hat, pajama pants are perfectly practical.

"There's like, northern lights tonight man, they're supposed to start at twelve forty," Kenny explained, Kyle found euphoria on his voice. The McCormick gave a light sigh and Kyle could perfectly envision his expression, "It's kind of dumb, but, I think it's cool."

"It is cool," Kyle said defensively. He tugged on his jacket as he spoke, "Super cool. And I'm not just saying that either," He is. A little bit. But Kenny doesn't need to know that.

"Thanks," Kenny said quietly, "The other guys said it was lame when I brought it up earlier. I'm getting off track."

"You are," Kyle said as he reached for the door handle.

"Basically, I'm on my way to your house right now. Meet me out front so we can go to Starks Pond and look at the sky?" Kenny asked nervously.

Kyle can feel the heat rising to his face at the connotations of Starks Pond. He's stunned into silence as his mind races with the fact that Kenny's asking him to go to Starks Pond. The place where many confess, or go fishing, or confess, or kayak, or confess-

"So, that's a no?" Kenny asked, snapping Kyle from his thoughts with ease.

"Should I grab a blanket?" Kyle answered with.

"If you're too weak to handle a little bit of cold," Kenny said, a playful challenge to his words.

Kyle gives a pleased hum, "I'll meet you out front man."

"Yes! Thanks in advance! Love you bro!" Kenny exclaimed, words assaulting Kyle's ears at a slightly higher decibel than the rest.

"Love you too bro," Kyle said, hiding the crack in his voice as best as he could before Kenny hung up. He heaved a full body sigh as he grabbed a light, fuzzy blanket from his bed.

What has he gotten himself into?

Well, to start, a night outside with his best friend slash long time crush. Of course, no one knows about his absolutely debilitating crush on Kenny aside from his journals. So, he's roped himself into sitting around Starks Pond, fucking stargazing with Kenny. And he has to be normal that entire time? He just, he has to stay on his side of the line, and not, under any circumstance, cross over onto Kenny's. Which is a lot easier to do when Cartman is standing around, or if Stan is in the room. This time, there is no one to stifle him from getting a little bit too close to play off as 'just friends' and he knows, deep down, that he will fuck this up.

To reiterate, what has he gotten himself into?

-/-/-/-

"I never took you for a starry kind of guy," Kyle said as he tugged the blanket over his shoulders a little tighter.

Kenny shrugged, "I just think they look cool," He leaned his head back, hands rested behind it, "I don't know a whole lot, but, I know enough."

"Neat," Kyle answered with.

Snow crunched under their boots as they crossed from somewhat icy concrete to snowy grass. There's almost a serenity to it. The stillness of the air, the clouds only faintly spread across the sky, the deafening sound of his heartbeat ringing in his ears. It's silent, and for Kyle it isn't a comfortable one. Kenny looks rather fine with it, a hint of a smile on his face as they circle Starks Pond to the old gnarled tree that's long since lost it's last leaves.

"When are they starting?" Kyle asked, the abruptness caught Kenny off guard. He tilted his head to face Kyle so face he's sure it gave the blonde whiplash.

"What?" Kenny answered with, a perplexed look clear on his face. He shoved his hands a little deeper into the pockets of his parka.

"The northern lights. The reason we came out here. When does the light show start?" Kyle asked, he was laughing a bit, he didn't know why. He's pretty sure he's grinning, he can feel wisps of cold on his teeth. He shuffles his blanket a bit.

"Right! Northern lights, fuck man. Nearly forgot. Should be starting soon," Kenny said sheepishly. He brings the heel of his palm to his forehead in one brisk motion. He gives Kyle a bit of a smile, "Thanks for reminding me, I swear to god man, those sleep meds are messing with me."

"You're never this out of your mind man, never," Kyle said with a nod of agreement as tapped the steel tipped toe of his boot against the trunk of the tree. He did it until a chip of bark came off.

"It feels like those things are keeping me up at night, not down," Kenny rambled back as he paced around the tree. He was running out of things to say, "You don't mind getting wet?"

"What?" Kyle asked, bluntly at that. He just stared at Kenny.

"Like, sit on the snow. It melts. It's wet. We could lay out the blanket," Kenny offered, he gesticulated vaguely as he spoke. He clasped his hands in front of his chest, "I'm not standing up as we watch the light show."

Kyle leaned against the tree before sliding down, the blanket caught on the bark. He kept his knees hitched, he patted the spot beside him and Kenny dropped down. The snow crunched as it compacted under his weight, one leg outstretched and the other bent. He leaned against Kyle a bit, the redhead threw some blanket over his shoulders.

"Thanks," Kenny whispered out, and the cold biting at his face was the only excuse Kyle could form for the red rising to his cheeks.

He murmured back a soft, "You're welcome."

Kyle let his head rest on Kenny's, the blonde barely repressed a smile. He leaned his head atop the redhead's shoulder just a bit more, arms crossed over his chest to hold in the heat. The fabric was thin, worn down over many years of use, and restitched where it tore. He glanced up to the sky, the faintest wisps of green were starting to show amidst the inky ocean of stars.

He pointed to the part of the sky where the color was starting to waver, "Dude."

Kyle followed where he pointed, "Cool."

The green hues curled and splayed across the sky in rivulets of neon color. The headiest almost silvery greens lay at the bottom and faded up into a deep pink. The further out he looked, it almost turned to a golden haze, still distinct in striking patterns.

"I love you, Kyle," Kenny said, words coming out seamlessly as he pushed himself against Kyle a little bit more.

"Love you too, Kenny" Kyle echoed back, he barely registered what he saying until Kenny lifted his head up.

The blonde reared back on his knees, catching Kyle in eye contact, "Really?"

Kyle nodded, "Yeah," Why bother lying? He knew he'd fucked it up.

"Cool," Kenny said, there was a short circuit somewhere in his head as he wedged his way between Kyle's legs. He was on autopilot and Kyle wasn't shoving him off. He slumped back, Kyle's chest pressed flush against Kenny's back, "Cool."

Kyle paused to let the word soak in, "Cool?"

"Yeah, cool," Kenny echoed back, "It's pretty damn cool that you love me. Because I love you."

"Yeah, that is pretty cool," Kyle said quietly, he rested his hands at Kenny's abdomen. He pressed a kiss to the top of Kenny's head, "Pretty fucking cool."

#south park #south park k2 #k2 south park #kenny mccormick #kyle broflovski #south park fanfiction #writing #fanfic #fanfiction #tw swearing

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startedwellthatsentence · 7 months

Text

I read a lot of science fiction novels, especially near-future hard-ish sci fi about first contact. It’s one of my favorite genres.

It also absolutely underlines for me why scientific inquiry MUST be a team effort. The authors will, if they’re doing their job well, present a bunch of scientific evidence connected to a new phenomenon. Perhaps the MC will do a few rounds of different experiments, and then come to a conclusion at the end. Or sometimes they’ll experiment, theorize, experiment, theorize, experiment, theorize, etc. Sometimes they’ll even explain in detail why some logical conclusion actually isn’t correct (suck it nerdboys I’m ahead of you*).

I’m a social scientist, a linguist with a background in gender studies and cultural studies who works as a second language instructor. I have a pretty good grasp of the scientific concepts these books like to play with, but they aren’t my specialty. So when they are doing these experiments, I am coming to *different conclusions* and wanting them to *conduct different experiments*. “Your evidence could be explained by these three other models!” I scream in the group discord. “Your conclusions aren’t fully supported, you need to do more tests!” “Not only are your postulates Terracentric, they’re Anglocentric! There are other cultures on our own damn planet that exhibit this ‘unexplainable alien behavior’!!!”

And that’s a perfectly valid plot point for a lone scientist, that their myopic view is narrowing what they can see of the world and therefore limiting the scope of the data they collect and causing them to draw questionable conclusions. The problem is that the authors tend to then have them be correct about everything they theorized. They did the science and now we’re done and we can move on to the plot. Meanwhile I’m either bitching “an anthropologist and an ecologist would have wildly different takes on this???” Or (looking at you, Arrival), “why is a fucking translator of a previously-studied language doing this work at all? Why don’t we have a rogue formalist syntactician who studies signed languages? Or a fieldworker doing documentation and description in South India, Papua New Guinea, or the Amazon River Basin? Or all of them in a room together?”

This is one of the reasons that I enjoy Brandon Sanderson novels so much, I think. Sure, every single one of them has the same plot twist: “your [physical/magical/political/interpersonal/historical/cosmological] model of the world is wrong, the truth is _____.” But that definitely fulfills my itch for theoretical models of the world to actually work like models instead of laws. Contemporary descriptions of the world may match the results of experiments, but that doesn’t mean that they’re necessarily correct in their totality. Time To Orbit: Unknown by @derinthescarletpescatarian is also pretty good at having the characters come to conclusions with limited data and then facing the consequences of that.

This isn’t a full thought, just something that occurs to me frequently when reading new sci-fi. Put your scientists in teams so they can think of different questions and supply different answers. So that I don’t have to yell at the MCs all alone.

*Andy Weir in Project Hail Mary came across as particularly defensive in his scientific explanations, but never about the things that I was questioning.

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justlydiasworld · 2 years

Text

AVOID ME

Pairing: Robin Buckley x F!Reader

Summary: An ex-best friend of yours-Robin Buckley, tries her best to avoid you at all cost. You don’t know the reason behind all of this,but you’ve been playing along. Not until you had no other choice but to share a queen sized bed with her. Will secrets be shared? Who knows? Let’s dive in.

Warning(s): angst, hurt reader/robin, bit of fluff,etc. (if I miss anything, please don’t hesitate to tell me.)

part 2 -

please let me know if you would want to be tagged on the next part!

Authors note: This idea randomly came when I was talking to a mutual of mine @crow-the-birdie . We were talking about the enemies to lovers dynamic and then the bed trope. I immediately thought of Robin and f!reader because it fits perfectly. Or that’s what I think. My inbox/messages are still open. If you need any ideas or request rules, press the link down below. 👇

Links: angst prompt list | fluff prompt list | requesting rules | nsfw prompt list | date idea prompt list

“And that is it for this class, you guys may be dismissed.” Mr.Marley neatly stacked the homework sheets and sat them on his wooden desk. Pushing back his glasses Mr.Marley notices the field trip forms in the corner.He widens his eyes for a seconds and clears his throat.

—-

You were packing your things swiftly,and ready to head out of this class. A sudden swoosh breezes pass your exposed skin. Leaving chills down your spine. It was Robin. It seems like she always tends to leave this class earlier than most students- maybe because you’re in her classes. You let out a huge sigh and roll your eyes. Ever since last years prom- she never tries to approach you again. Robin often glances time to time but she never tried to shoot a conversation. You’ve convinced yourself she hates you. Robin excludes you out of group projects, leaves you to each lunch alone, talks over you whenever you get the chance to answer questions- so on and so forth.

As Robin tries to leave the class- she was stopped by Mr.Marley. “Uh uh uh, not so fast ms.buckley.” He took his hand and placed it in front of Robin, almost leaning forward. “u-uh, did I do something wrong Mr.Marley? I know I alway leave your class super super early- but I swear I have a good reason. Or-or that’s what I would like to say but-“ Mr.Marley raises an eyebrow,giving Robin a look. “You aren’t in any trouble ms.buckely. I just have to make an announcement before anybody gets the chance to leave today.”

He grabs the field trip form and holds it up in the air. “Everybody listen up.” You turned your head to see the brown haired teacher holding up a form. “We will be having a fun field trip for this year,and I would like you to have this signed and turned in by tomorrow morning. We’ll be checking out museums, stores , and sleeping in a hotel.” Your mouth opens slightly- this was so sudden. You raised your hand in the air in curiosity. His eyes roaming around in the room-finally noticing your hand being raised.

“Yes.Question?“ he points at you with a blank face. “You mentioned sleeping in a hotel right?” Your arms now flung down onto the side. “Yes,yes I have.” His arms now crossed and held close. “I’m sure all of these students won’t have a singular room for themselves- are we sharing a bed?a room? Are their two beds? Could you explain please?” You grabbed your book bag that was sitting on your chair, brows furrowed- you can see Robin avoiding eye contact. She’s playing with her rings, a nervous wreck. That’s what she was.

“Good question,Ms. y/n/l.” A small grin tugs his mouth in the corner. Robin takes a seat near the door and slowly swings her back pack onto the desk. “We will be sharing a room. Two girls in one room. Two guys in one room. And unfortunately there’s one room with only one bed. You may have to sleep with the other person or either you or them can sleep on the floor. It’s up to the person who gets the room.” He eyes at Robin and it seems like he was pulling something. Silence filled the class and you were pretty satisfied with the answer- convinced that you might share a room or even a bed with other students besides Robin. Or hopefully not Robin.

After all, you did tell Mr.Marley about the whole situation many many times. Surprisingly-Robin didn’t interrupt you this once. Which was a bit shocking but you didn’t give it much of a thought. “Get those signed.” He handed each students a form- now leaving the room one by one. Now it was you and Robin left in the room. Why didn’t she leave like always? As you took the slip from his hands- you gave him a nod and left class. It was just Robin left behind.

“M-Mr. Marley?” Robin twisted her rings and gave an awkward smile. “Yes Robin?” He raised his brows once again and noticed the nervous brunette. “Am I sharing a bed with..uhm-“ she turns her head, making sure you aren’t there to listen to the conversation. “-y/n?” Mr.Marley grinned at the brunettes flushed face. “Not that I care. I definitely don’t like her. Yeah. Not a bit. She’s a butt. Mhm. A pain in the a-“ as she was about to finish, Robin saw the soft head shake that the teacher made. “Yeah sorry..” she muttered underneath her breath. “Robin, I think it’s time to talk it out with her. It’s now or never.” He took a seat on his swivel. She lets out a sigh and her head down low. “I made this field trip specifically for this situation.” He stapled some sheets together and does the same thing to the other sheets that were now laid perfectly down flat. “Oh w-wow,uhm, you would go that far for us Mr.Marley? I mean of course you would. We’re you’re students. And it would be stupid if you didn’t care for us because you’re our teacher so if you didn’t-” She tilted her head and gave a toothy smile. “I’m doing it again,arent I?”

He looked at the brunette and looked at her and said,” Robin,if there’s one thing you should know about me.” He stopped and continued to staple more sheets of papers. “I don’t put in effort into something meaningless. Trust me. I know how much you love that girl.” He chuckled and pushed back his glasses with his index finger. “Lo-Love? No,I hate her. I absolutely despise her. I cannot stand her.” She stomped her feet softly on the ground, trying her hardest to convince her teacher that she totally did not love you.

He sighed and got up from his chair and leaned on one of the desks. Robins eyes following his every step. “You have to tell her the truth. The reason why you pushed yourself away from her,Robin. That’s all I can say. I’m merely you’re teacher, this field trip is my part of helping you out. Do your part,will ya’?” He crossed his arms and stared at the freckled brunette. Robin on the other hand knows that you deserve the truth, but there’s no point in telling you now. You practically hate her. Or so that’s what Robin thinks.

—- NEXT DAY —-

“Thank you for turning the forms in on time.” Mr.Marley says as each students walk in his class with the signed form. Robin nervously taps on the desk and waits patiently. A few seconds later, you ran in the door and apologized for being late. You handed him the form and you can see Robin just examining your face. It’s like she never got to actually see your face. You rolled your eyes,expecting the brunette to say something stupid and put you down again. “ I don’t like your smile. “ or “ what is that smell? “ and she turns to stare at you and says “ oh it’s just you.” As you broke the small moment of eye contact, Robin’s body froze up. That eye roll and pissed face, she didn’t like that at all. Her body felt so heavy, her heart filling with guilt and regret.

—-IN THE BUS —-

You couldn’t believe what Mr.Marley said. “We have specific seats on the bus?” One student called out, sitting on the rubber cushion. “Yes,we do.” He grabs the sheet of paper and fixes his glasses to call the names out and point out where they’re seating and who they will be sitting with. A groan left all of the students lips and yours too. You couldn’t believe it.

—

You couldn’t believe this at all. You were paired up with buckely. Robin buckley. You thought it was a mistake but now you couldn’t say a thing because all of the other students were happy with their seating arrangements and the bus took off.What’s worse is that Mr.Marley already went and took a seat on the front row. You were in the back.

You sigh and look down on the floor. Your thighs almost touching robins. She nervously watches as your sorrowful eyes meet the cold flooring. It struck Robin that she made you feel this way. She did this to you. Robin was near the window and she tried her best to avoid your soft gaze. It seemed quieter for the both of you when the bus were filled with other students,yelling and laughing at jokes that weren’t funny and laughable.

- 11:00 pm (still heading to the hotel.) -

“so, why’d you avoid me for 3 years.” You had no clue where you had this sudden confidence burst from,but you were dazed, closing and shutting your eyes slowly.But she couldn’t see that because you turned your head away from hers, avoiding to make eye contact to the person who left you with no explanation.Robins eyes widened and turned to see your trembled hand. Trembling. “ I’m so sorry (y/n). It’s such a childish reasoning but I hope you’ll forgive me. Please.” Robin wants to take your soft hands and hold them tenderly, and with care. She never intended to hurt you, but she did. She thought maybe if she acted cold towards you, maybe the feelings she had for you, would also turn cold. And that logic didn’t work. It only broke robins poor heart to see you in this kind of state, what’s even worse is that she did this to you. She caused this all. As soon Robin opened her mouth. Your head gently falls on her shoulder. A slight weight on Robin. She froze up once again and smiled. Hesitantly but now kissing the top of your head and gently placed her head on top of yours.

- 2:00 am ( still on the bus ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ )-

Soon enough,all you can hear was the rain pouring outside of the school bus. Hitting gently on the glass windows. Like rushing waters that had a slight soothing sound that came with every drop. You opened your eyes roughly, waking up to the sound of thunder. Making you jump a bit, clinging onto robins arm. “I’m- im so sorry.” You looked up and you weren’t expecting the both of you being so close to each other’s faces. Hearing the heart beats bouncing off the bus. Silence roaming around but the soft breathing that Robin made, only you and her being able to hear. Another lightning appeared outside, but this time you could see how the light was shown on robins freckled face. Nose to nose, breath to breath,body on body.

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animebw · 7 months

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Re-Watching: Kimi ni Todoke Season 2

In which my opinion has flipped so completely on its head that I'm un-retiring for a single post to talk about it.

Return of the King

It's been almost two years since I've made a post like this.

For those of you who've only joined me after my semi-retirement on the tail end of 2021, The Anime Binge-Watcher used to be one of the most extensive anime analysis projects I've ever seen in Western fandom. I would consume anime at ridiculous rates and blog my thoughts in chunks of 3 or 4 episodes, piecing together all my observations and opinions in nice structured paragraphs like the ones you're reading now. In my glory days, I could get through two, three, even four posts a day. Heck, when I first watched Kimi ni Todoke five years ago, I tore through all twelve episodes of season 2 in a single day, writing no less than five separate analyses of my developing thoughts along the way. My long-term readers can attest to what a wild and wonderful journey it was, and even though I've since transitioned into a much looser and low-key blogging style, I still miss those days when I could spill countless words about the countless stories I consumed.

But of course, life moves on, and there was only so long I could dedicate that much of my free time to a hobby when real life was knocking at the door. I started this project as a college freshman with way too much free time on his hands; I'm an actual adult now, overseas job and everything. Not to mention all the other hobbies and creative pursuits taking up my attention. I just don't have enough time anymore to spend on truly in-depth analytical writing like I used to. And that's okay; the three-and-a-half years I dedicated to The Anime Binge-Watcher in its true form were more than enough to say everything I needed to about this medium and my relationship to it. This project is as complete as it could ever meaningfully be. So while I certainly miss those days, I'm more than happy to let this be my casual anime watching blog from now on.

But I'm making an exception today.

Because re-watching the second season of Kimi ni Todoke has so thoroughly upended my opinion on it that I have no choice but break my thoughts down just as extensively and in-depth as I used to do on a regular basis to explain why.

God, it's so fucking good to be back.

Sympathy for the Devil

So, since it's been... god, it really has been half a decade at this point, huh? Since it's been five years since I first watched and blogged about Kimi ni Todoke, here's a quick rundown of my thoughts for the countless among you who weren't around for it: I fucking love this show so much. Not only is it one of the most achingly sweet shoujo rom-coms out there, but the protagonist Sawako Kuronoma so perfectly captures my experience of teenage awkwardness and uncertainty that I swear the author was taking notes from my life. It's a story about growing up on the spectrum, whether it realizes it or not, about the difficulty of communication when you can't grasp the norms everyone else takes for granted. But it's also about how those seeming walls between you and everyone else barely exist at all, and as long as you have the courage to reach out, you'll forge connections wherever you go. It's a feel-good masterpiece the likes of which we so rarely see, and I recommend it to anyone with even a passing interest in anime.

And when I first watched the second season all those years ago, I absolutely hated it.

Okay, to be clear, what I hated was the first half of season 2. I hated the miscommunications, I hated the contrived misunderstandings, I hated how the very fabric of the show seemed to be conspiring to force Kazehaya and Sawako apart. By the time we reached the point where they both confess to each other and yet somehow think the other only means "I like you" as a friend, I wanted to rip my hair out of my skull. Mercifully, the second half won me back by finally letting them get together as a couple and indulge in adorable puppy love awkwardness so mind-numbingly sweet I needed an industrial warehouse full of epi pens to make it through unscathed. And I'm not exaggerating, god the final stretch here is some of the cutest shit I've ever seen. But it was really rough going to reach that point through what felt like the absolute nadir of forced misunderstanding plotlines. Nothing but contrivance after contrivance piled on top of each other to force the couple apart long past the point they should have gotten together for the sake of dragging out the will-they-won't-they as long as it could possibly be milked.

And yet, as I got to re-watching this show in preparation for its shockingly announced third season (my excitement is through the goddamn room), dreading the moment I reached season 2 and would have to suffer through this bullshit again, something truly remarkable happened when I finally reached this point: I didn't hate it.

And then something even more remarkable happened: I started to like it.

And then something truly impossible happened: by the time it was over, I couldn't imagine this show without this arc anymore.

Readers, I have never turned around on a show like this. I've had shows I disliked but softened on as time went by, sure, shows I liked but came to love more and more as they lingered in my mind. But this is the first time I've returned to a story arc I actually hated only to end up loving it by the end. And that's the reason I'm returning to my old in-depth analysis blogging to talk about it. Because there's no way to discuss the 180 I've done on Kimi ni Todoke season 2 without breaking it down in as much detail as humanly possible. I don't just want to write a couple paragraphs and be done with it: I want to memorialize this moment. I want to really, truly express why I came around on this arc and why I think it's so meaningful now. Because there's a real conversation to be had here about the the power of storytelling in general and the power of this story in particular. And for a show that's meant so much to me for so long, I can't think of any other way to do it justice.

So let's dive in. Because good god there's a lot to talk about.

Right on Time

So the first question I want to ask right off the bat is: was I wrong to hate this arc the first time around?

Well, I'm not gonna tell you it's free of contrivance. Kazehaya and Sawako's building misunderstanding requires so many different people to misinterpret so many different things in so many carefully staged situations. Not just the lovebirds themselves, but Kent's ill-informed meddling, Kurumi's intentional sabotage, and especially Chizuru's completely oblivious worsening of Kazehaya's insecurities at a critical moment. And that dual-misinterpreted confession scene is still some buuuuuuuuullshiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiit. There's a reason this arc gets so much shit from me and others; you can practically taste the hand of the author as it shoves all the pieces around to keep this misunderstanding growing well past the point someone should have realized things were getting out of control and stepped in to clear the air. And when you're as anxious as me for these two dorks to just ask each other out already, it's hard to see this as anything but cheap, forced drama from an author desperately trying to stave off the inevitable.

But here's the thing: what if there's an actual point being made here?

See, this arc is such a frustrating experience your first time through that it kind of shuts down any attempts to analyze it on a deeper level. You're so pissed off at being denied the confession that's dangling right in front of your face that you write off the whole thing as nothing but empty delay tactics. And yet, Kazehaya and Sawako get together literally right after this. If this was just a case of dragging out the will-they-won't-they, this misunderstanding would have lasted much longer and done much more damage. But no! They confess properly, they clear everything up, and they're officially going out mere episodes after you're left fuming at their double misinterpretation of each other's "I like you." So while it feels like nothing more than cheap delay tactics in the moment, a full view of the story's trajectory rejects that theory pretty firmly.

And that's the big thing that changed in this re-watch: I already knew this wasn't going to last. This wasn't going to force them apart forever, it was going to get fixed, I didn't have to worry about this relationship I loved so much getting screwed over by coincidence. And without that worry of endless delays, I was able to do what I couldn't my first time through: actually think about what this arc was trying to say. What was the point being made by this part of the story? What was it trying to communicate about Sawako and Kazeyaha's relationship by putting them through the wringer? Was there, in fact, a reason things needed to play out this way?

And believe it or not, the answer turned out to be yes.

End of the Fairy Tale

Sawako and Kazehaya's relationship starts like something out of a fairy tale. Sawako, the lonely rejected girl who can't connect with people and scares off everyone she tries to get close to. Kazehaya, the ever-cheerful prince who sees her plight and reaches out a hand to pull her into the light. And with his endless support and supportive charm, she's able to find her place in the world with friends who love her and a handsome admirer who will always stand by her side. It's every lonely girl's romantic fantasy brought to life in dazzling colors, fully earned by how human the characters feel and how well-realized their growth is. Small wonder we all got so swept up in it we fully bought into the fantasy ourselves.

But people aren't princes and princesses. We're not perfect fairy tale archetypes. We're people; flawed, imperfect people who make mistakes and don't always see things clearly. And as impatient as I was for Kazehaya and Sawako to just get together already, what re-watching season 2 made me realize is that as of season 1, they were not yet in a place where getting together would be a good idea. Season 2 isn't delaying for the sake of delaying, it's holding up a spotlight to these lovebirds' biggest flaws and pointing out that if they don't find a way to overcome these weaknesses, any relationship they start is doomed to failure. It's pulling the curtain down on the fairy tale and forcing you to realize that this sparkly, shiny portrait of two young lovers actually has some deeply unhealthy undercurrents that would shatter their attempts at a happy life together if left untreated. And all the drama and misunderstandings that spring up as a result of those undercurrents are what force Kazehaya and Sawako to truly confront those issues head-on, move past them, and grow into stronger, more self-assured people who can actually be with each other without messing it all up.

Girl in the Gutter

To start with Sawako, because she's much simpler to understand, her problem is the same problem she's had from the start: a complete lack of confidence in herself. As much progress as she's made, she still sees herself as inferior to the people she loves, someone who has to earn their affection by proving she's worthy of it. A life lived isolated from her peers has left her incapable of seeing herself as part of them; they're all so much smarter and kinder and braver than her. How can she consider herself their equal when they're clearly not? And because of that inferiority complex, she's completely incapable of considering the fact that other people might care about her just as passionately as she cares about them. Not just Kazehaya, but Yano and Yoshida as well. She can't picture a world where the people she loves return that love with no caveats or expectations; how can she, when he doesn't consider herself on equal footing with them?

And in Yoshida's beautiful rant to Sawako in episode 6, we see just how painful it is to be on the opposite end of that self-loathing. Sawako isn't just hurting herself by putting herself down, she's hurting everyone who loves her by implying their love is, in some way, untrue. Imagine how it must feel to care so deeply for someone, to devote so much of yourself to them because they mean the world to you, only for them to assume you can't possibly care that much because they don't deserve it. It's legitimately gut-wrenching. And if Sawako had tried to start a relationship with Kazehaya still under that impression, it would've been a disaster. She would've spent the whole time thinking he was just doing her a favor, being nice and helpful like always, hating herself for forcing him to become someone he didn't want to be just for her sake. And Kazehaya would've spent the whole time hurt and frustrated that she would think so little of the feelings he's cultivated for so long. They would've lasted a couple months at most, and it's a genuine question whether they'd even be able to talk to each other anymore when it was over.

In short, Sawako could never be in a healthy relationship with Kazehaya, or anyone, really, until she finally got it through her thick skull that she is exactly as worthy of love as the people around her. Only after Yoshida's rant does she finally realize how much she's been putting everyone else on a pedestal, that the only one who considers her lesser is, well, herself. Kazehaya is no god, Yano and Yoshida are no angels; they're people exactly the same as her, flaws and fears and wants and all. And there is nothing Sawako can give them that she doesn't deserve back from them in return. Then, at last, she's able to truly accept that Kazehaya might love her just as she loves him- and more importantly, accept that it's okay for someone like her to be a part of his life. Because this glittering boy who seemed to stand so far above her was, in the end, just as normal as her. And if someone as wonderful as him was just an ordinary person like any other... than maybe she could be just as wonderful.

Boy on a Pedestal

And speaking of Kazehaya, something else this re-watch made clear was that I did not understand his character the first time around. I remember being so annoyed my first time through by how much he started waffling on his feelings in season 2 when he seemed to clear-eyed before. You're a sparkly shoujo pretty boy, what business do you have getting all angsty out of nowhere? But going through it again, no, Kazehaya was fully justified in his concerns. His seemingly effortless cheer is just as much a social mask as Kurumi's pretty popular girl shtick; he just does a much better job of turning it on naturally. But underneath that cheery exterior lies a boy who's riddled with sharp edges. He's impulsive, he's quick to anger, he gets jealous easily, and he's got a genuine possessive streak that flares up basically whenever he thinks there's even a chance Sawako might be in the sights of another guy. The boy is as sweet as they come, but there's a real darkness to him that I didn't really pick up on my first time through because that sweetness was so incredibly blinding.

So when they move into their second year classes and Sawako starts forging new connections well outside her comfort zone? Kazehaya feels that darkness gnawing at him stronger than ever, and it scares him. It scares him to think he might lash out and hurt Sawako with the force of his feelings for her. More than that, though, he's scared of the thought that her lack of feelings for him (by his own thoughts) will only make that possibility an eventuality in time. She's making so many friends and finding so many connections beyond him, and as much as he wants to be proud of her, he also feels like he's losing something precious, something that used to be just between him and her. Something that Kent touches on early in the season is that Kazehaya can't leave people alone when he thinks they're in trouble; he swoops in and lends a helping hand because it's the right thing to do. But there's a world of difference between helping someone in trouble and building a life with them. And the more Sawako finds connections outside of him, the more jealous and uncomfortable he becomes... which only makes him all the more concerned that his gestures of kindness were little more than an attempt to bind her to him like a baby chick to its mother.

The fact of the matter is, Kazehaya and Sawako's relationship as of the start of season 2 is incredibly unbalanced. He's essentially been something like a teacher throughout her first awkward high school year as she began to develop her sense of self, and he's been a wonderful guiding light. But because of that, she puts incredible amounts of trust in him... trust that would be painfully easy for a less well-intentioned person to abuse. Sawako thinks so little of herself, and so highly of Kazehaya, that he could probably ask her to do anything and she would do it, no matter what it would mean for her. And because Kazehaya is so aware of his own demons, he's also aware of how easy it would be for his jealousy to spike out of control and hurt her. He's torn between wanting to hold her fast and never let go and wanting her to leave him behind. Wouldn't it be better for her to stop being so dependent on him, to find happiness in a broader community of people? Wouldn't she be happier- safer- if she could carry her happiness as far away from him as possible?

Golden Goose

Of course, the problem with Kazehaya's perspective is that he's making exactly the same false assumption as Sawako; thinking there's no way they'll be able to see eye to eye because he puts her on too high a pedestal. He's so consumed with thoughts of how much he could hurt her that he's incapable of seeing how much good he brings to her life. There's a great moment where Pin calls him out for this kind of selfish thinking; for all his claims of wanting to do the best for her, his own feelings are the only things he's really taking into account. He's so obsessed with his own way of seeing things that he never stopped to consider what Sawako thought of their relationship, never considered that someone as honest and straightforward as her might also have feelings she was too scared to talk about. So while Sawako needed to realize she was just as worthy of love as everyone else, Kazehaya needed to come to terms with the fact that everyone else is just as flawed as him in their own ways. Everyone else has doubts, hidden desires, questions on how to move forward with no easy answers. But just because you can't be sure of everything is no excuse not to try.

On that subject, something else I really came to appreciate on this re-watch is how Kent serves as a foil for Kazehaya. He's essentially the person Kazehaya is afraid of becoming: someone who does good deeds and helps people not out of a genuine love for the people he cares about, but as an ego-boost to fuel his sense of self-importance. Yes, maybe Kent has good intentions, and he certainly did some good for Sawako helping her settle into her new class, but when push came to shove, his sense of self-righteousness won out over his desire to do the right thing, and thanks to his own misinterpretation of Kazehaya's feelings, he meddled in ways that almost drove Sawako and Kazehaya apart for good. He was so convinced his perspective on what was happening was correct that he never stopped to wonder if he was doing more harm than good until he'd almost ruined everything forever. And Kazehaya is so terrified of becoming that kind of person- or the thought that maybe he already is- that he pulls farther and farther away from her rather than try and fix things upright. It's only when he finds the courage to be as honest and straightforward as Sawako, doubts be damned, that he's able to meet her on equal footing, see her clearly for the first time, and embrace the love he was so scared of losing with all his heart.

Hearts Wide Open

And it's that incredible catharsis that officially turned me around on season 2. Seeing that incredible confession scene and all the sugar-bomb adorableness afterwards not as an apology for a season wasted on delay tactics, but the culmination of a genuinely beautiful coming-of-age for both of them, made me realize just how damn important this arc I thought I hated was. Kimi ni Todoke needed to let its characters face their flaws like this. It needed to confront their worst aspects to they could grow beyond them. It's only now that they're truly self-assured people, confident in themselves and each other, that their relationship is able to be so unspeakably, unfathomably delightful. And while there's definitely more than a little narrative railroading to force them into that situation, the payoff is so spectacular than I genuinely don't mind anymore.

So I guess, if you, like me, found yourself groaning throughout Kimi ni Todoke season 2 the first time you watched it, rolling your eyes at the contrivances, yelling at the screen as they kept misunderstanding each other and hating the writers for putting you through such bullshit... give it another look. See it for what it is. I can't promise it'll win you over as fully as it did me, but with the benefit of hindsight, you may just find yourself a new light in what you thought was the darkest corner of the sun.

And with all that said, I'm bumping my season 2 score up from 6.5/10 to:

9/10

God, I'm so fucking happy I decided to rewatch this show. To my old fans, I hope you enjoyed this nostalgic return to form. To my new fans, I hope this was a fun change of pace! If you want to see more writing I've done like this, I've got an enormous backlog of shows I've analyzed like this, so feel free to check them out! And now, let's all wait with fingers crossed that season 3 is just as wonderful as what's come before...

#anime #the anime binge watcher #tabw #kimi ni todoke #from me to you

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timpac-capstone · 6 months

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Week 10

I finally did another digital drawing, this time using Adobe Fresco on an iPad Air 2. This piece was actually way more relaxing to draw than the last time I tried drawing digitally on Krita using my roommate's touchscreen laptop because nothing was glitching out. Everything worked perfectly this time and the Apple pencil felt very intuitive in my hand. I still struggled to get my line work to look nice and I'm not sure if the process in which I colored and shaded my drawing was the way most people do it but after finishing this piece I walked away wanting to do more digital art which is a victory in itself.

When I walked out of Manga in New York I finally understood the importance of how the presentation of an art piece can add to the overall experience of the audience member. This was a quick sketch I did in Adobe Fresco of how I was planning to display my animation. I'm thinking of getting one of those old TV carts that I would often see in elementary school where it had a big CRT TV that was hooked up to a VCR. The VCR is just for display because I'm not sure how to put my animation onto a VHS tape and even if I did it doesn't really add anything but I was planning on displaying my animation on the CRT TV. The reason the setup is like this is because this is the same setup that the two brain cells have when they are watching Dillon's embarrassing memories. I will also have two bags that will be labeled Embarasing Memories and Good Memories, after the audience member is done watching my animation they will write one happy memory and one embarrassing memory on an index card/cassette tape and throw them into their respective bag. I'm not 100% sold on this idea but it is a good start.

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My professor recommended that I watch more animated short films that weren't just from previous alumni to broaden my horizons in terms of storytelling in a short animation and the way animation is used as well as its quality. I saw 10 animated short films but I'll only talk about the ones that stood out to me starting with This Actually Happens A Lot by Tom Law. I remember my professor asked me to explain why I love animation so much and I showed her the transformation sequences from Ben 10 (2005) and I just said "I mean just look at that". But she didn't see the same thing I did and said I needed to look deeper for the reason and I feel this short gave me that answer. Animation makes the unnatural feel natural without needing to explain why it is the way it is. In this short, we see that the male character's social anxiety is causing him to stick from wall to wall and be suspended in thin air. Obviously, this doesn't happen in real life but I didn't question it, I accepted immediately that this is how this world works and because of that I'm more in tune with the author's message instead of fighting the way he presented it, creating a much more enjoyable watch. If this was live-action I would be more interested in how they did the effect rather than what the point of this character being suspended in mid-air is supposed to represent in the first place.

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Resilience by Yunie Choi gave me a new perspective on the horrors of war and life after death. They used animation to do a timelapse of a decaying corpse over the course of several hundred years and it is quite beautiful to see how life moves on without you. The use of colors and interesting animal designs really add to the beauty of this animation.

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This guy, Manu Mercurial, does a lot of YouTube tutorials for animation but I haven't seen his animated projects in full before. I thought it would be topical for me since we are both interested in the subject of memories. He very much took a very different approach from what I was thinking of doing but I still think it was a good watch to see how people visualize revisiting their old memories

youtube

I like Afternoon Class by Osro for the same reason I like This Actually Happens A Lot, I don't question why this kid's head turns into several heavy objects but I have an immediate connection to it because I understand the feeling of trying to stay awake in class. Also, the use of sound effects is excellent in this short.

youtube

I put Forget Me Not by The Lonely Star Studio on here because it shows that even with terrible voice acting and mic quality I can still appreciate the animation of this short which has also been a huge stressor.

youtube

Bounty by Arrowmi is on here because it has the opposite problem of Forget Me Not it has amazing voice acting but the art style and animation are pretty rough. It's not bad but it's not super pretty to look at either. However, it was still able to tell an intense story of an ex-bounty hunter and suck me into the world despite its noticeable drawbacks.

Going back through my old script ideas, I had this one part where at the climax of the story the main character would wake up in a car sitting next to his dad. He's in shock because his dad is supposed to be dead and yet here he is just driving nonchalantly, the main character knows this is a memory but he decides to ask his dad a bunch of questions to see if his dad would still be proud of him if he were to meet him as an adult. I feel that this entire scene I made was inspired by this Spiderman story I found 2 years ago on Instagram in which Peter gets 5 minutes to talk to Uncle Ben after years of being Spiderman, this story really connected with me when I first found it because what I want the most in life is to just ask my dad "am I doing good". There are a lot of things that I struggle with; not being masculine enough, I'm almost 23 and still haven't had a girlfriend, and I constantly wonder if I picked the right career choice. I don't know if my dad struggled with the same things but I assume that he didn't and I often feel that if he were to meet me as an adult he would be disappointed. I know that most likely he would say that he is proud of me despite all my shortcomings because that is what parents are supposed to do but the fact that I will never get that answer kills me. I decided to read all 3 parts of this story to get a better idea as to what led up to this Uncle Ben interaction and it was pretty good, if you watched Spider-Man 2 it hits the same story beats. Lately, I've been thinking of scrapping the two-brain cell idea and instead animating the car scene I described earlier on its own.

REFLECTION:

I'm really happy that I finally found a groove into digital art and I'm hoping this will finally jumpstart some animation this week. I'm also glad that I watched all those animated short films, they all had their unique quirks and drawbacks that you don't normally get to see in professionally animated TV shows. I also want to explore the idea of being able to talk to a dead relative for a brief period of time before you never see them again.

#Youtube #animation #digital art #pokemon #trapinch #animated short film #spiderman

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theshatteredrose · 20 days

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How do you get these wonderful stories out of your head? When I play RPGs like Disgaea and Eterian Odyssey, I have stories I wanna write but when I turn the game off they're gone! Do you have any wisdom on how to weave daydreams into reality?

Oooh boy~ Ok, let’s see…

The first thing, the absolute first thing you must do when you get an idea for a story is to write it down. I cannot stress this enough. Please, write it down somewhere. Do not fall into the trap of “I’ll remember this, I won��t need to write it down.” We authors always fall into this trap. You will forget. We always forget.

Write it down in a notepad. Write it down somewhere on your phone. Write it down in an email or text. Write your ideas, big and small, down somewhere.

Start that habit first. Keep the ideas brief and to the point. Write them as a synopsis. Write them as a summary.

Alright. So, you have all these ideas. Now what? Taking the next step can seem daunting. So, let’s keep it simple. Look over your ideas. Any that catch your immediate attention? Any that seem fun or exciting to do? Let’s start with that one.

Take the idea that you like. And then expand on it. Add characters. Add a setting. Who is the protagonist? What are their motives? What drives them? What is the plot of the story? What is driving the plot forward? What is the goal? Who or what is the Antagonist? What are their motives and motivations?

Don’t get bogged down with the details. Keep things simple and to the point. We’re still in the planning stages.

Next, it’s time to figure out the timeline of events. How does the story begin? What are the objectives that the Main Characters need to reach throughout the story? What are the key plot scenes you want the story to entail? What is the end goal? What would you like the ending to be? Again, keep things simple and to the point. This is what happens and then this is what happens next. We’re still in the planning stages.

Please note that your story has the possibility to change during these planning stages. What you had in mind at the beginning can change. And that’s perfectly fine. It’s about the flow. Sometimes your story and characters will lead you in a new direction. One you hadn’t considered before. Happened with me more times than I can count. And it’s always for the better.

Ok, so you have your story figured out. Now comes the next big hurdle – writing details.

This step is where a lot of people fall short. Writing fleshed out characters, writing them in scenes, writing dialogue, writing their thoughts and actions. It can feel overwhelming. So, let’s just take it slowly. The first draft is always abysmal. No one ever, ever finishes a pristine novel on their first draft. If they claim otherwise, they’re lying. The first draft is just getting a feel of the story and of the characters. Does this scene fit here? Does this event help or hinder the story? Do I need to explain more of the lore?

The first draft is never, ever perfect, so go into it with this mindset. Fumble your way through it. Add dialogue here. Add a fight scene there. Oh, this scene needs a new character? Well, in you go!

And you don’t have to start from the beginning. Start working on a scene from the middle of the story. Start working on that exciting battle scene. Start working on that amazing plot twist that no one saw coming. I wrote one of my stories by first working on that final battle scene and then worked around it. You don’t have to work from the beginning.

There is one other thing you must do in order to get your story done. You must write. You must work on it every day. It can be for five minutes. It can be for only a hundred words. But you must find the time in your day to work on your project. Little by little, a sentence here and a sentence there, your project will get done.

We writers a such fickle little creatures. We can get disheartened easily or get distracted with other shiny new projects. So, remember, each day you choose to write, no matter the form, be it a new idea or the working of a new project, is a day you should be proud of yourself.

Everything I’ve written above is my personal method of writing. It’s not perfect and it may not be for everyone. It’s merely advice I offer from the heart, guidance to help you find your own way as a writer. To find your own method. Seek guidance from others, but ultimately find a path that is suited for your own needs and interests. Test the waters and experiment, fumble your way through exploration and soon your will find your own rhythm.

I hope I was able to answer your question ^^

#author ramblings #writing advice

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ladyodaskonpeito · 2 years

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Pairing: Angeal Hewley x Genesis Rhapsodos

Genre: Fluff

Word count: 792 words

Obviously, Angeal takes pride in his works. His reputation has been known to precede him across Midgar, after all. He has been a five-time bestselling author in the ShinRa Times and has won Best Fiction on the Gaia Fiction Awards for three years in a row now. Although he strives to remain humble throughout his fame, it will not do well for him to downplay his achievements when questioned by his long-time friend.

"I'm not sure you know what you're doing anymore, Angeal," That is, unfortunately, what Genesis uses to start their conversation that evening before he proceeds to complain about how badly Angeal's priced work was adapted into a screenplay.

"I would have been advised by the team of writers working with me if the problems are as blatant and as severe as you're making it out to be," Angeal tries to explain despite knowing that these attempts are more often than not, futile when it comes to Genesis. "The starring actors did not voice even a single objection to the lines that I have written for them. They've complimented the lines, even."

"That's because the actors you've cast are subpar at their jobs and don't have the balls to talk actual sense into you like I do. They're too busy trying to lick your boots!" Genesis snaps. This demeanour of his isn't new to Angeal at all. In fact, this conversation seems to be heading in the direction of the many conversations that they've had as of late.

"Well, Genesis," Angeal can't help but let his exasperation show. "If it isn't the same topic we've discussed over and over again since the TV show adaptation of Fearless had been in the talks."

Genesis rolls his eyes, despite that being what Angeal wants to do in response to this entire situation.

"We've been over this before. And like I've said - multiple times now - there is no way for you to be in the show, not when the cast has been set ever since the directors thought of picking up this story of mine! How are you still not over this issue when it is already the season finale?" Angeal is never one to raise his voice, especially not to someone as important as Genesis. "I'm not sure where you want us to go with this by constantly nitpicking on the project that I've got going on."

"I'm totally not jealous of you or anything if that's what you're insinuating," Genesis shrugs as if he hasn't been showing his frustrations just two seconds ago.

"Then what is it? Why has it occupied your thoughts so much that it has been almost everything we've talked about for the past five months and a half?"

Genesis shakes his head at Angeal's enquiry. It appears that he doesn't want to divulge anything else.

"This isn't fair, Genesis," Angeal folds his arms, ready to get to the bottom of it. He isn't going to let this go unresolved again this time, what with the topic threatening to sour their relationship.

He presses for an answer again after Genesis' silence lasts for a few moments.

"I..." Whatever this is, it doesn't seem to come easy to Genesis as it always does. He shuts his eyes before taking a deep breath.

"Is this about your pride as an actor, is that what's bothering you?" Angeal prompts. After all, they've known each other since they were kids, so he's confident about his gut feeling. "I've already said it was nothing personal, you and I both know that you'd fit perfectly into the show but castings don't always go the way writers want-"

"I hate the fact that other actors get to spend the last five and a half months with you on set!" Genesis finally opens his eyes before interrupting Angeal. "I hate how they must have been trying to hog your attention all to themselves when you could have been there seeing me in action and bringing the character you wrote to life! There's your answer, happy?"

Angeal has to admit, that is not what he saw coming. Nonetheless, the surprise he feels does not stop the corners of his lips from lifting in amusement.

"Took you long enough, huh?" He eyes Genesis' sheepish expression fondly. "To think that I had to wait until the fricking season finale for you to finally crack."

He then pulls Genesis into his strong arms, deciding that this would be the most appropriate gesture to soothe Genesis' wounded pride. Thankfully, the gesture is reciprocated almost immediately, suggesting that the red-headed male didn't mind being the one to yield. At least not too much.

"Promise me you'll be more open to telling me what you feel now that we're officially lovers?"

Writing practice: A movie star and a bestselling author's conversation about the epic season finale of a TV show - writing prompt courtesy of The Foundations of Fiction LinkedIn course.

Angeal's work was named Fearless because I lack creativity like that (。・ω・。)

#my writing #writing practice #angeal hewley #ffvii angeal #ff7 angeal #genesis rhapsodos #ffvii genesis #ff7 genesis #angeal hewley x genesis rhapsodos #genesis rhapsodos x angeal hewley #angeal x genesis #genesis x angeal #banorashipping

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hoebaring · 2 years

Text

Open Books (42) | Kim Namjoon

An unpredicted switch of journals brings two strangers close. Strangers with similarly perturbing experiences, and beautifully healing souls. Abused, bullied, and traumatized, they help each other, and those around them break away from similar experiences, heal and grow gracefully. With thoughtful emotions, and ever growing minds, Y/n and Namjoon are delicate heroes. They understand the best in each other, and the worst, like open books.

Tags/Warnings :- Child abuse, domestic violence, traumatized characters, bullying, self harm, mentions of toxic relationships, angst. I know it's dark but trust me it gets better! namjoonXreader, Namjoon and Y/n, A slow burn romance, fluff, strangers to friends, strangers to lovers, self love, healing, etc.

Cross posted on Wattpad

Written by Author G

Word Count :- 350 words

Masterlist Previously Next

~There's Always More~

"Wait what? They selected us?" Y/n asks, lips trembling with excitement and joy as she sits on the comfortable chair opposite to her professor in the cozy office.

"Yes dear" Mrs. Kim confirms with a nod of her head, slightly amused with her student's reaction.

Y/n couldn't believe what she was hearing.

"How is that possible? I mean, how do they even know of us?"

"I sent in your portfolio and essay for a scholarship opportunity." The older woman reveals with a cheeky smile, laughing once Y/n covers her mouth, shocked by the revelation.

"But that still doesn't explain how that got me and Ji-Hoon ssi selected as speakers for one of the biggest seminars for psychology in Korea!? Not to mention, by the University of Oxford!" Y/n exclaims excitedly, apologizing with an embarrassed smile once she realises how unprofessional of her it was, although Mrs. Kim didn't seem to mind.

"It was perfectly enough for a scholarship. But then, I had sent in a video of one of the sessions I had recorded of Ji-Hoon ssi's and your findings for the project I had assigned the both of you too, and that called in quite some attention from the Board of Directors. Firstly, the content on the thesis is very impressive! And secondly, a first year student working on a thesis based on 3rd year level academic material, even if it is for a collaborative project, is quite rare." Mrs. Kim beams with pride as she utters the last of the sentence.

However, that particular part of the sentence clouds Y/n's mind with doubt.

"With all due respect Mrs. Kim," Y/n voices out in a civil manner.

"I don't think I'll be comfortable with taking up this opportunity if it's being given to me because of the mere fact that I'm able to keep up with 3rd year level material. I'm able to do that only, and only because of Ji-Hoon ssi's help. So, how do I know that I'm deserving of this?"

"Well Y/n, while that may be true, you should also remember that you're able to work on this project only, and only because of your help." The older woman emphasizes, sighing to further explain her point once an expression of confusion graces Y/n's face.

"You had approached me, asking for an opportunity to build a foundation for your career, and I gave it to you. As much as Ji-Hoon ssi must have been helping you, it was ultimately your decision to work hard. You took the initiative, you worked hard, and now you're being given an even bigger opportunity. It's just the fruit of your hard-work."

The reality slowly sinks into Y/n as she sinks into the armchair, excitement consuming her being like the subtle aroma from the lavendar scented candle that wafts around the room pleasantly, the sunlight that enters the room through the window seeming to shine brighter as Y/n's joy grows indefinitely, her teary eyes sparkling much like the fluttering dust that the sunlight filters through in the air.

"Congratulations dear. Make the most out of this opportunity."

"I will ma'am. Thankyou so much!"

"Now hop along, I have work to complete" Mrs. Kim states with a warm smile, moving to grab a pen to resume correcting the stack of papers that lie on her desk.

"Is it weird that I want to give you a huge hug right now?" Y/n jokes on her way out, to which the professor responds with a fix of her glasses, smirking.

"Save the hugs for bigger celebratory moments Y/n. I guarantee you, there's more. There's always more."

Y/n doesn't doubt that one bit. Afterall, it's her decisions that made all that has happened, possible.

And it's her decisions that will make more.

There really is always more.

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thenightlymirror · 5 months

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This couple in this story on this podcast, it feels like they’ve perfectly compartmentalized every fault in their relationship into this haunting. It’s so effective. They talk about each other with perfect love, unfailingly. But when they talk about these haunting episodes, they clearly have had very miserable lives and fight a LOT. But it’s always the poltergeist’s fault.

There was this family in an earlier story, well, a few poltergeist families, where clearly they are projecting their anxieties onto the house. They’ll be like, Dad or Mom was full-on in the throws of addiction and was constantly taking it out on us in violent abusive ways, as was my boyfriend and my peers at the time, and there were some really bad vibes in the house. Total mystery!

I know the feeling! My main take away right now is that: people have very interesting relationships to their dwellings. A house is never just a house. Its insides are your insides. Time is allotted to rooms. It’s basement is your basement. Its liminal spaces are your liminal spaces.

Almost every one of these stories is told as a sleep event. If I insisted that every strange night of sleep I had was a haunting of some kind, I’d be pretty psychic. There are certain experiences that guests on the show will describe, and for me it’s like, Yes, I know exactly how this feels. And I wonder, there must be certain kinds of events that are basically on the seizure spectrum, that have a certain epileptic affect I recognize, but not necessarily every supernatural event would have that same affect. There are all the artifacts of dreaming one might experience, jumps in time, forgetting, stories with vague endings or that involve “coming-to”. And the ubiquitous sleep paralysis stories, which, account for a surprising amount of supernatural experiences.

As I might have wondered here a few times, to what extent could some of these hauntings and all the lifestyle changes that occur with them be explained by long-term viral infections? Like, what if Epstein-Barr or flu varieties or some viruses we don’t even know about were giving people low key neurological damage? You barely get sick, but you get tired, deep feelings of dread, sleep disturbances, paranoia, hallucinations. I often think, ah, there’s some kind of mold in these houses. But the weirdness of Long Covid makes me wonder if other things could do that.

If a person could have a somewhat objective distance to contemplate the strangeness of dreams, especially lucid dreams and how artificial any feeling of verisimilitude really is, I think a lot of supernatural experiences could be recognized in that light. If you have enough deja vu and seemingly clairvoyant dreams, you realize, we just have no authority at all on the causality of our thoughts or recognizing the order of things. When I think about how many times I was dreaming about something that was happening shortly after I awoke, it’s clear what “I” experience is in no clear linear order.

This is not even broaching the peculiarities of shared memories. A group of friends, or a family, remembers through stories. I remember my own life through stories. They are so malleable. As I get older, my most potent emotional memories are so played out, they’ve been replaced with vague corruptions of tertiary events I can’t even be sure ever took place. Granted, I’ve had a very traumatic life. And I talk about it a lot more than most people. There’s bound to be some displacement.

More to the point, there is a whole range of experiences which are really just relatively common exotic retreats of the mind. And people just aren’t very good at self-reflecting about things like how it feels to listen to a song, or the slightest sadness or mortal seriousness, or depression and trauma, which is not to difficult to come by in this life. But it’s taken me so much to be able to have some kind of idiosyncratic vocabulary to talk about dreams or ecstatic or transcendent experiences, to be able to talk about entering and exiting a dream, or the sometimes arbitrary signification of profundity or truth in certain experiences. The most powerful experiences you can have as a person, are exactly what they are, and can also be examined skeptically. Those feeling are just little glands squeezing out their final juices to convince you of something. Something “ineffable”. Either it’s ineffable because its content is in fact nil, despite the fact we always have some deity in our arsenal to take credit, or the content is the division between that excited state and everyday life.

One opinion that still annoys me is the particular angle of this argument that “You can’t just believe that this is all there is.” As in, we should take it for granted that everyday life is nothing but a hell of work and consumption, small talk and anxiously averting authentic communication, because of course that’s all the natural world could allow. No, we must also have spirits. Without noticing all that argument forecloses. Yes, everyday life is horrifying. Change that and then show me ghosts.

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emilydaisymasters · 5 months

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Researching 'Perfect Child Syndrome', Things I Found Interesting

I thought it would be a pretty good idea to begin my research into 'Perfect Child Syndrome' sooner rather than later, mainly to give myself a good gauge on the prevalence of the topic in existing studies and papers, as well as to give myself a solid starting point for the beginning of my essay. I want to illustrate below some of the things I found that interested me, be they papers that I felt might be of some use to me, websites that help to explain what I may struggle to put into concise words, or just things I generally didn't know and was excited to learn.

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'One of the most robust protections against anxiety and depression, on the other hand, is self compassion, the very thing that perfectionists lack' - Re-authoring the Demands of Perfectionism: An Art-Based Study in Self-Compassion by Lindsey Gamble

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A paper that I found to be very informative and exploratory is this one by Lindsey Gamble, a study exploring how art as an activity and product can help people cope with the idea of perfectionism, failure, and that can promote the idea of self-love and acceptance. This paper somewhat encapsulates the idea I want to convey in my essay and project, just in a different way than my own. The idea of promoting art as a healthy outlet and method of diverging from the concept of perfectionism and perceived failure. There are a lot of interesting points within this paper that word things so perfectly and emotionally, that I think I could really learn a thing or two from.

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'These kids grow to be perfect, mature, and well-behaved. However, they feel guilty and become anxious if they cannot meet certain expectations.' - Good Child Syndrome - An Overview by Dr. B. Ssneha

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This article essentially helps to boil down the idea of 'Perfect Child Syndrome' or 'Good Child Syndrome' as it is known as here, into bullet points, observable symptoms and resulting consequences, and is something I will certainly be referring back to in the future when illustrating how this can manifest into later life.

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'The only child may have very high and perhaps unrealistic expectations of school and peer relationships.' - The golden child phenomenon by Mary Ellen Lavin - https://www.proquest.com/docview/304104187?fromopenview=true&pq-origsite=gscholar

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This paper defines a 'Golden Child' in a very different way to how we may normally, though it was written in 1993. The author has a criteria for what makes a golden child, and researches mainly the effects within the classroom, though I feel her research is still vital in proving my point and making my case as to what forges these expectations and how they manifest to the naked eye of others.

#DE4401

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heylookitsghost · 1 year

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okay its super early but im gonna do the big nono and i’m gonna talk about dead dove for a minute because im healing so my thoughts are frequently living in my brain.

[if you dislike/hate/get triggered by dead dove you probably shouldnt read. dont worry, its just me trauma dumping/trauma explaining]

dead dove completely changed my life. when i was younger, a good 8+ years ago, i underwent a severe trauma that completely tipped my world on its head, and severely impacted me sexually. i had always headed warnings when reading and clicked out if something seemed like it wouldnt be good for me. and i was, for some reason or another, searching ao3 with the fandom filter off. i saw one that looked like it would help satiate the trauma based hypersexuality and the ocd. i clicked on it, i read the warnings, i clicked proceed. it was super well written, it had a good plot, and it explained what i was going through perfectly. i saw a reflection of myself in the work. it had all the incredibly bad things in it, but it gave me something that nothing else did. i didn’t realize it then, but looking back, there are so many details relating to sexual trauma and hypersexuality and the feeling i was having that its now pretty clear the author was using their piece to work through their own trauma.

now this fic was one of the most valuable things i have ever read. it meant a lot to me. and when i first clicked on it, it was incomplete. it was always incomplete; the author deleted the work, recently, in 2020. when i read it for the first time, there was no conclusion. there were no further explanations or justifications. the author let the piece speak for itself. again, looking back, its clear that they could only talk about how they had come so far.

i checked back frequently for updates. eventually, the fic showed signs of the character healing. and there was one point, a climax to one of the many story arcs, where i had been flooded with relief, and simultaneously experienced a trauma release. because the character was *healing*. the character got better. it directly said what was happening, in a way i could never put into words, and it showed a path towards it healing and getting better. and it, to an extent, also justified that sometimes dead dove (in fiction) exists to hell process and cope. i.. didn’t realize at the time, what this story arc meant for the author. but i knew what it meant for me. i wasnt isolated. i wasnt alone. there are other people going through what i am. it can get better. it can completely go away.

the story finished with a fluff arc, after that, until the author deleted the work. and after 8 years, i can solidly say that the fic was right. it did get better. i dont seek out the same content anymore. i dont depend on the things i used to- that *helped.* I genuinely dont know if i couldve survived the experience and the trauma without this fic. and while i never close tabs, today i get to go through and close all the tabs full of dead dove i needed to cope. because its no longer something i need. and i have to tell you, it is such an experience. to have solid, concrete proof that i am healing, i am getting better. and its such a relief.

the same relief i felt when i read the fanfiction for the first time. the same relief i felt when the character healed. the same relief, and i had done it, i had gotten there myself. and it was such a relief. it was overwhelming. and i still feel that relief and that joy and that overwhelm, because i finally got there. and it was exactly like the author impressed it would be.

so like. dead dove may have gotten me through and helped me process an extreme set of traumas. and it helped heal me, before it ever began to stop being the Bad dead dove. and i just???

the author was clearly trauma dumping, in a creative way, and i was clearly doing a healthy trauma projection as i was reading. and i could identify with that growth. i could identify with the bad. and it helped keep me from feeling like no one could ever understand.

like i said, the author deleted the fic. probably because it wasn’t something they needed anymore, and they wanted to let go of that trauma. but personally? despite the fact i will probably never read it again, i have it saved in my phone. a pdf available to me. a reminder of how far ive come.

and thats really important to me

#ANYWAYS #thanks for reading #uhhhh you probably shouldnt read if you dislike/hate/get triggered by dead dove #tags #personal #rambles #they speak

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wonderful-writes · 3 years

Text

Presume

Pairing: Tom Riddle x Fem!Reader

Summary: Tom thinks you’re too pretty to be any good at academics. You can imagine his shock when he’s proven wrong.

Word Count: 2k (2,097)

Author’s Note: The idea for this fic was given to me by @bellaswansrealgf. It was such a fun topic to write, so thank you so much bae for coming up with the idea! I’ll definitely be using more of your suggestions in the future.

Tom Riddle found himself becoming increasingly irritated. How could Professor Slughorn possibly expect him to work with a partner? What kind of fool did Slughorn think he was? Tom was perfectly capable of completing his project himself, and it was rather insulting for his professor to assign someone to help him. And not just anyone. Slughorn had assigned you.

You, the pretty girl, were in no capacity an ideal partner. You were friendly and charming and surely too bubble-headed to know a thing about potions. You were probably irritating and selfish and vain, too. Tom would have rather been partnered up with the clown from Gryffindor than with you.

��Tom, right?” you asked as you took a seat next to him. You were dressed in neat robes and had nicely styled hair. You probably spent all morning on it.

“Yes,” he replied curtly without so much as a glance your way. He began flipping his textbook to the desired page and scanning it with his eyes.

“I’m Y/N,” you introduced.

Tom ignored you as he continued to read the page.

“So, what kind of potion do you think we should make?” you asked him, opening your own book.

Once again, Tom didn’t bother to look up or respond.

“Hello?” you tried again.

He let out an exasperated sigh. “Listen, I know potions is probably not your area of expertise, so it’s best if you just sit there and let me work.”

“Excuse me?” you asked, surprised at how this stranger could claim to already know you without having ever spoken to you. “How would you know if I’m not good at potions?”

Tom scoffed. “If you haven’t noticed, you don’t exactly look like you’d be much of an academic.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you questioned, starting to get offended.

“Well, I’m the best in the class,” Tom said like it was the most natural thing to come out of his mouth. “Professor Slughorn probably sent you here so that I could babysit you. You can’t be any good if you need me as a mentor.”

“I don’t need you as a mentor,” you told him. “Professor Slughorn wanted us to work together for this assignment.”

“Like I said,” he replied, turning back to his book, “maybe you should let me handle the assignment.”

You were beyond aggravated. How could someone who barely knows you make such assumptions about you? You were more than adept in potions, and it was unfair of him to shut you down without letting you prove your skills.

“You realize this assignment is worth 25% of our grade, don’t you?” you asked him as you crossed your arms.

“Precisely,” he answered. “Which is why I won’t let you mess it up.”

You had never met a more arrogant person.

“If you’re going to be this way,” you declared, “I’ll just ask Slughorn if I can work alone. I wouldn’t want to inconvenience the great Tom Riddle.”

Tom breathed a sigh of relief as you packed your belongings and walked away. You were attractive, sure, but you were also annoying. He was glad to be rid of anyone who didn’t let him take charge.

Slughorn allowed the two of you to work separately. To Tom’s approval, you set up your station far away from his. He almost pitied you. It couldn’t be easy for someone like you to complete an entire project by yourself. People like you only cared about their appearances or what the latest gossip was. There was no way you could make any of the complicated potions on the list of options for the assignment without help.

By the end of the week, Slughorn had finished grading the students’ potions and their accompanying essays. Tom, ever so confident in his abilities, was shocked when he didn’t receive a perfect score.

“What did I do wrong, Professor?” he asked after class had been dismissed. “I could have sworn I didn’t miss anything.”

“You forgot to crush the bay leaves before you put them in,” Slughorn explained. “But not to worry, my boy. You chose a highly complex concoction. It is almost guaranteed that any student who attempts to recreate it will forget at the very least one step.”

“Did anyone else choose that potion?” Tom wondered.

Slughorn nodded with a twinkle in his eye.

“And did anyone get it right?” Tom asked. He was doubtful that anyone in the class could have succeeded at something he failed to perfect, but it didn’t hurt to ask.

“That’s for me to know, my boy,” the teacher answered. Seeing the frustrated look on Tom’s face, he chuckled and added, “Just know that you shouldn’t judge your partners so prematurely.”

Tom spent the majority of the night ruminating on Slughorn’s words. Could it be that you were the student who had gotten the perfect score on the potion he had attempted? He refused to believe it. Slughorn must have been referring to another student, one that Tom was paired with in the past. You couldn’t possibly be the partner in question.

It had been weeks since Tom came in second for the first time in his life. He convinced himself that it couldn’t have been you who bested him. Of course, he speculated who the true victor could be, but he couldn’t put his finger on who in the class could be worthy of such high marks.

Eventually, the time came for the annual examination preparation. Professor Slughorn’s students were assigned a series of practice exams to help them prepare for the actual ones. Each practice test focused on a different area within potions, and it was the students’ job to be well-versed in all of them.

At the beginning of every week, a new practice exam was passed out, and the grades for the previous week’s exam was posted on a roster at the front of the class.

Tom never bothered with making a show of checking his grades, knowing fully well that he would always be at the head of the class. But with the newfound knowledge of a possible competitor, he couldn’t quell his curiosity.

Making his way to the front of the room with the usual throng of Slytherin boys, he displayed no sign of concern. Why should the best in the year have to worry about some halfwit who ran into a bit of luck one time?

His air of indifference was quickly squashed, however, when he approached the posted practice exam scores and saw that his was the second highest. Second? That couldn’t be right. Tom Riddle never came in second. Who was first? Who could feasibly best Tom Riddle at a potions examination? The most brilliant student in all of Hogwarts, and in his best subject too?

He was horrified beyond comparison when he saw none other than your name at the pinnacle of the score sheet.

You.

Impossible. There was no chance that the bubbly girl with the face of an angel, er, a moron, could ever have received such excellent marks.

He’d seen you around, and you were most definitely not the kind of girl who cared about your performance in school. You were always smiling with your friends or tucking your hair behind your ear or dazzling a crowd with an extraordinary story. When you weren’t smoothing down your clothes or checking your made-up face, you were befriending the professors, something only stupid people needed to do.

So how could you have gotten a higher score than him? There must have been a mistake. He would have to ask Slughorn about it after class.

As he walked back to his seat, he glanced at where you were positioned, a table not too far from his own. You had already started on your assignment for the day, making quick work of the cutting and crushing of ingredients. Sure enough, you were dripping with the grace and beauty of someone who most likely didn’t know the difference between reed and foxtail.

How could one possibly be proficient in any academic subject when they looked like that? You probably spent more time shining your shoes than studying for exams. Then how did you beat him, and twice?

He watched you work for the remainder of the period. To his surprise, you were doing everything correctly. You never added a drop too much or a sprig too little. You stirred with precision and knew what color to look for in the brew. You seemed to know exactly what you were doing. Were you truly more intelligent than he had originally presumed?

Still unconvinced, he approached Professor Slughorn after dismissal to question the scores from the most recent exam.

Slughorn only sent him a mysterious look before answering, “Everything is as it should.”

After the third week of coming in second place, Tom decided that it was enough. It was time he put his troubles to rest and find out for himself what sort of witchcraft was in play.

“Are you cheating?” he abruptly asked you the moment you took your seat. Professor Slughorn was not yet in class, giving the students ample time to converse before lessons began.

Startled, you stared back at him. “What?”

“You must be receiving help on your practice exams or at the very least borrowing notes from someone,” he stated matter-of-factly. “So tell me. Who is it?”

You had had enough of this arrogant git’s behavior. “What makes you think I need help? Is it so hard to believe that you are not the only person in this room who can do well in school?”

“Well I- you see, you’re not exactly the sort to put much thought to academics,” he defended.

“And what sort is that?” you questioned.

“You know, the vain, pretty lot,” he said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “I’d imagine you spend more time on your appearance than on your academics.”

You gaped at the boy before you. “You think I’m pretty? And before you go on, my appearance has nothing to do with my drive to excel in scholarly affairs. I’ll have you know I’m more than capable of receiving just as good of marks as you are, despite what you think.”

“Then work with me on today’s partner project,” he challenged.

“Excuse me?” The last thing you were expecting was for the high-and-mighty Tom Riddle to want anything to do with you after his blatant rudeness.

“If you’re truly as good as you say—”

“You mean as good as the scores prove,” you cut in.

Tom rolled his eyes. “If you’re really that good, show me. Demonstrate your skills on today’s potion, and I’ll believe you.”

So the two of you spent the class working together on the assigned potion. Tom made sure to stand back so that you could have the freedom to do things on your own, silently hoping that you would make a mistake. But you didn’t.

Your potion was perfect. There was not an herb out of place or a drop not potent enough. Everything was as it should.

You had clearly proven to Tom that you were a skilled student, worthy of his second glance. You only hoped that the self-righteous twat would realize not to judge people before knowing them.

“While I hate to admit my own shortcomings, you were right,” Tom conceded.

You smiled at his admittance. “Thanks, Tom. I’m glad you learned something from this experience.”

He had expected to feel more disdain at the fact that he had finally found his match. He was waiting for annoyance, jealousy, some spark of rage at being second-best. But all he felt was a strange sensation.

You were quite honestly brilliant, and he couldn’t remember a time when he genuinely thought that about a fellow student. You were quick-witted, sharp-tongued, and unafraid to back down from a challenge. You stood up to him despite barely knowing anything about him, other than that he was a royal pain to you. And, not to mention, you were quite a sight to behold.

It was no secret that Tom kept to himself more often than not. Sure, he had a group of peers who respected him — whether out of fear or genuine liking is up for debate — but he never got to know anyone on a personal level. He never let anyone get too close or see him for someone other than the shining pupil with big plans. But, for once, he wanted someone to share his genius with.

He intended to make you that person.

—

Part 2

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