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natequarter · 1 year

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fruity / delight: Mary and Annie

“Call ‘im a bastard,” Annie suggested. “Lord knows he deserves it.”

“But,” Mary winced, “but he is a man of the cloth … I can’t say it, Annie.”

Annie put an encouraging hand on her shoulder. “He’s an arsehole, dost thou not think?”

“Well, yes…” She had a bad habit of trailing off when people tried to make her do things she couldn’t. Or, sometimes, just because she was tired and the smell of smoke was particularly bad, and Robin was too loud, and her hair kept flying in her face, and it was all that little bit too much. “Could we not just talk?”

For a moment, Annie looked like she was about to argue. (She often looked like this.) Then she said, “Yeah—probably a better idea.”

They snuck away like someone was watching, like there was a jury waiting to condemn them for some unthinkable crime. Ridiculous, of course; that had happened already, and no one had thought to wait for a jury before dragging her to her to her death.

Annie pulled her into the alcove in the side of the manor. “Nice day, huh?”

Mary said, “I s’pose.”

“Thou soundest depressed,” Annie said. Her voice softened. “Is that me? Or just coincidence?”

“According to Humphrey,” she said, then stopped.

“What’s Humphrey saying now? He might be nice, but he hasn’t got the most reliable knowledge. Just sayin’.”

“According to Humphrey … ‘tis a hundred years to the days since—since I passed.”

“Is it really? Christ, how time flies.” Annie’s tone was flippant, but as she said it, she quietly put an arm around Mary. Only tentatively, though; sometimes, the rough pull of hands on her shoulders did more harm than good. “That alright?”

She nodded. “I still remember it as if—”

“As if?” Annie said encouragingly.

“As if it had just happened,” she mumbled.

“Well,” said Annie, “that’s—understandable.”

Usually, on the day Humphrey claimed was her death day (as if anyone had bothered to actually note the date), she ran off to the woods, or hid in the upstairs closet, or otherwise did her best to disappear off the face of the Earth; the one person she dared let near her was Robin, more because he knew how to find her than anything else.

Annie, to her knowledge (which admittedly was only slightly broader than Humphrey’s), had only seen her on this day a handful of times, and rarely, if ever, had they talked of the pyre in the room.

“They’re idiots,” Annie declared, when Mary did not speak. “All o’ the bastards who condemned thee.”

“Annie, it was—”

“Thou didst not deserve thy fate,” she continued, “nor wouldst thou ever. The fools who did this”—she gestured, vaguely, at Mary—“should have rued the day they sentenced thee.”

“I thank thee,” she managed to get out; and that was it. She had been so sure all her misery had been put to death alongside her, but the words she meant to say to Annie came out as choked sobs, stifled tears; she meant to speak, truly, but found it an impossible task. Annie, she knew, favoured explicit communication, and not conversations which crumbled under their own weight; but then Mary had never been very good at explaining herself, as her executioners well knew.

“No,” said Annie, “don’t … I mean, that is—come here.” She pulled her into a hug, quite awkwardly; so awkwardly, in fact, that her tears dissolved into shaky laughs as Annie fumbled to embrace her. “Oi, don’t laugh at me! Thou wilt ruin my reputation.”

Mary blinked the tears out of her eyes, so that she might see, to find Annie grinning down at her with a clumsy kindness.

“Is that better?” Annie said. “I don’t like to see thee upset.”

That was a kinder thing than any she’d heard from her neighbours in life, which she decided not to mention. “Thou hast not a reputation to wreck,” said Mary, and, despite her mood, burst into stuttered laughter again, delight dug out of her cinereous heart.

“Harsh,” Annie said, but she accepted the insult with more grace than what she would have given Matilda for the same comment, which felt like a kind of silent compliment. “At least thou art alright,” she continued.

“Yes,” Mary wiped her eyes, “a little better now. I just … needs to be away from the others.”

“Tell me about it,” Annie said.

“Well … I am.”

“Ha,” she said, “there’s my Mary. It’s nice to have thee back with us.”

If she could have inscribed anything in stone, the former comment would have been memorialised in an instant.

(link)

#asks #annie bbc ghosts #mary bbc ghosts #bbc ghosts #fic

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thee-morrigan · 2 years

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27 & 28 for the writer ask (and 31 if you are up for it)

[weird questions for writers]

hiii thanks for sending these (and sorry it took a mo to answer)! definitely will be doing 31 because i refuse to turn down an opportunity to fawn over anyone who's ever paid me any amount of attention (truly, people who support other people's hobbies are actual angels, i'm baking you all a cake filled with rainbows and smiles)

dropping answers below the cut!

27. Who is the most stressful character you’ve ever written? Why?

this is probably a bit vague, but any time i feel like i don't have a good sense of a character's distinct voice, it's very stressful - there've been lots of times where i felt like i understood a character, like i knew what choices they'd make in a given scenario, but not how they'd get to that decision (like, only understood them in an intellectual sense?).

i can't think of any one character in particular (fandom or otherwise) who stands out as more stressful than others, though!

28. Who is the most delightful character you’ve ever written? Why?

they're not fandom-related (they feature in an original project i'm writing at a glacial pace), but probably my character lola renfroe.

i love writing lola because (even though they are ultimately a good and big-hearted person), they're not especially nice. they don't care very much what most people think of them and can sometimes be a little too blunt - but as a writer, it's fun to explore characters (especially femme-presenting ones) who you know to be good but who are, frankly, just not very likable!

31. Write a short love letter to your readers.

for someone who writes almost exclusively about love (romantic, platonic, self-love, loss of love, etc.), you'd think i'd have an easier time articulating the volume of love i have for anyone who's ever read my writing. i started writing (as a tiny human) because i had ideas and stories inside of me that took up so much space i felt they had to live somewhere beyond my own head, and i mostly still do. but the writing i do that ends up (in part or whole) online is writing that isn't for me; or, rather, it is, but it's for me the reader (who might also sometimes be you the reader). there's a quote from matilda about reading books to know you're not alone, and i think a lot of writing that we share serves the same purpose: you write to feel seen. you write to know you're not alone. (and, just to be clear, i don't only mean that in a serious, shared-trauma, identity-validating kind of way. i also very much mean that in the sense that sometimes you need to know you're not alone in wishing some characters would just be the sluts you *know* they can be. it's all imaginary barbie dolls, y'all - sometimes you just have to make 'em kiss.)

ANYWAY - what i really mean is: every single time i share something, part of my brain immediately cringes and tells me i'm a weirdo (brains are assholes a lot of the time). but when i see that someone's liked/reblogged/left kudos/commented on something i wrote, it feels like you're saying, "hey, i'm a weirdo, too!". if you've ever read anything i've written and enjoyed any part of it, i am so ridiculously grateful to you for validating my need to make my imaginary barbies do things (ya weirdo <3).

#thank you friend!!#write a 'short' love letter they said askfjsl #answered #lilyoffandoms #katie says things

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girlreviews · 2 months

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Review #491: Harry’s House, Harry Styles

I have never really taken much interest in One Direction or any of the solo careers of its members. A generation or two ahead. I gave “Fine Lines” a listen when it came out (which was previously on this list!) and didn’t think it was anything special. It does seem like Rolling Stone has really taken an interest in Harry Styles, and I don’t have any strong feelings about that either way.

Harry’s House is really fun. I’d go as far as saying that I like it. I can see myself putting this on in my car. As far as mainstream pop music goes, it’s interesting and different and has so many references to previous eras and artists in it that it’s possible I could spontaneously combust trying to identify them all. But I really enjoy that about it. If I got the chance I’d write a list of all the songs and artists I feel influenced this record and stick it in front of his face and ask him to confirm or deny it.

“As It Was” is a little 80s tribute and I’m not kidding you when I tell you if you wanted to sing “Take On Me” over the top of it, you can and it would work perfectly. I’m not saying you should, but maybe you should. It also sounds like Peter Schilling’s “Major Tom”. This is all very good stuff. If you haven’t heard that last song I just referenced, may I strongly encourage you to change that in the very immediate future.

“Little Freak” and “Matilda” really hurt my feelings (really really). I don’t want to talk about it but I do want to congratulate Harry on that. That’s what music is supposed to do. I’m glad that if he’s had this talent within him that he has been given the chance to make it happen, to work with the right people and to be taken seriously as an artist after a very particular start in the industry. Let’s hope for a day where every person who can write songs to hurt my feelings gets those opportunities also. Do you think as he ages he will experience feeling past his prime? No longer valuable? Marketable? That he has anything to offer?

With that being said, Cinema is a completely ridiculous song. A few of them lack substance here and there and that’s one of them. Not everything has to have substance and the actual music carries it, but it’s truly not very good. I think that’s okay though. When you’re actually pushing yourself some of what you make is gonna be not so great, and you’ll look back on it and cringe, but that same process yields tons of good shit. And you know what, it’s probably someone’s favorite song, so that’s really nice.

Something I think about a lot is just how young Harry Styles and the rest of the 1D boys were when they were launched into unbelievable fame and exposure on live TV every Saturday night right before our very eyes. How impossibly hard that must have been for them and they might not have even processed it until they were older (or have they even? Oof). I’ve kinda always been rooting for them. They were children.

The actual thing I always remember is that One Direction actually came runner up in that competition to Matt Cardle, which is wild. When they were all on stage celebrating, Harry Styles grabbed Matt Cardle and said in his ear “think how much pussy you’re gonna get”, and the cameras caught it. It was funny on so many levels. I really wonder if Matt Cardle got any additional pussy because I think winning X-Factor was probably one of the worst things to ever happen to him. And I think we all know how things went for Harry in that department. X-Factor used to be such a thing and what a weird time in our lives it was.

#album review #music review #music #rolling stone top 500 #harry styles #harry’s house

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patiencetaught · 3 years

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{ here’s an idea that’s been living rent free in my head for the past week:

Dungeon Master Matilda. Like, she gets into DnD when she hits middle school and because she’s such a good storyteller, she ends up getting asked to DM. As a result, she ends up writing these elaborate campaigns that take them months to get through.

Luckily, the Honey’s dining table and pantry are made open and available to her group every Friday night, so they’ll get through them eventually. }

#this isn’t about Jenny but whatever #also #I don’t know enough about dungeons and dragons to be making headcanons about it but uh…#but i do understand the role of the dungeon master #and I know matilda would probably be ridiculously good at it #between her memory and story telling skills? she’d be unstoppable #jenny probably doesn’t get it but she tries #instead she just makes them all snacks and tries to be supportive #❝ this miracle ❞ ⟨ MATILDA ⟩#headcanon #♥.·:* because she’s a spectacularly wonderful child and i love her ⟨ MISS HONEY && MATILDA ⟩

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greycappedjester · 4 years

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kuroo, oikawa, and suga's fav books? headcanons for the first year boys hufflepuff dorms (so hinata and kageyama's dorm)? headcanons for tendou and ushijima's relationship in All in the Cards? also, have oikawa/hinata met the other's Fate (tendou/ushi), and what do they think of them? are they even aware that the other has a Fate?

Hey, these are all such cool questions. Sorry, this one has taken a bit for me to answer almost entirely because I could not think of a single book that would be Kuroo, Oikawa, and Suga’s favorite--for a large part because Kuroo and Suga weren’t raised in the Muggle world so are unlikely to have Muggle books as their favorite (except maybe ones Suga had to read for Muggle Studies) and Oikawa has had limited interaction (only summers) with the Muggle world since he was eleven. With that, I’ll try to answer type/ genres of readers I think they are.

Gonna be long so I’m putting it under a read more

Hq at Hogwarts

Kuroo, Oikawa, and Suga's favorite books/ genre?

Kuroo is the type of person who just really likes knowing a bit about everything and being able to show off/ surprise people with random facts. He’s 1,000% the type of kid who read the magical equivalent of thesauruses and random fact books when he was young and was super smug when he brought up a fact that his dad didn’t know. For fiction, I think he’d like epic dramas, specifically ones with dramatic monologues and smart heroes that were able to trick the system. The magical equivalence of Count of Monte Cristo, the Scarlet Pimpernel, and V for Vendetta would probably be his favorites for fiction.

Oikawa once he got to Hogwarts (and before with the limited amount of books he can find) heavily enjoys magical theory books--it’s really, really important to him to know how his magic and the magical world works. I’d say he’s hardcore the most voracious reader of the series (Kuroo being a close second). With that, without growing up in the magical world, he’s really not particularly good at being able to tell what’s common knowledge and what’s not which he finds particularly irritated. For him, I really think he does focus primarily on non-fiction theory and application books; but, I think when he was a kid he probably had a few favorite books generally in modern fantasy, sci-fi, or magical realism (Matilda, E.T., Jurassic Park, Ender’s Game)

Suga is the definition of a secret goth in his book taste. I think Suga really does enjoy a good horror book and especially if it focuses on psychological horror themes or the fallibility of man. If he ever got exposed to them in Muggle Studies or if the Wizarding World had an equivalent, he would absolutely love Poe’s short stories (esp. Fall of the House of Usher, Mask of the Red Death, the Tell Tale Heart). He’d also like the wizarding equivalence of those creepy short stories that stay with you (”The Lottery” by Shirley Jackson, “All Summer in a Day” by Ray Bradbury) Of these three characters, I think Suga would be the one that enjoys fiction the most.

Headcanons for Kageyama and Hinata’s dorm?

1.) The chill, friendly dorm by far. So, this dorm is like Hinata, Kageyama, Inuoka, Shibayama, Sakunami who are all just ridiculously nice people. In contrast to Yamaguchi’s dorm, this dorm is the kind that’s just like “oh, well, it looks like Kageyama and Hinata are gone again, they’re either involved in something dangerous or probably playing Quidditch.” Smiles. “Oh, well, hope it’s Quidditch”. They just go with the flow by now and doesn’t let it stop their weekly games of gobstones.

2.) Dorm most likely to forget snacks in their dorms over the summer and get a lecture from Takeda about making work for the elves.

3.) Most of them have a tendency to be kind of messy, even Sakunami. The exception is actually Hinata, who is the cleanest about shared living spaces due to legitimately living almost his entire life sharing rooms either at Hogwarts or the orphanage. A+ roommate Shouyou Hinata....except for being loud and getting up way too freaking early.

4.) With that, Inuoka and Hinata are the early birds of the group and the rest of them despise them for this fact.

Cards

Headcanons for Tendou and Ushijima's relationship in All in the Cards?

1.) Centuries and centuries of Tendou trying and sometimes succeeding in getting Ushijima to make bad decisions. Oikawa hardly stood a chance at getting Ushijima to budge on anything, Tendou is a master at finding the right buttons to push....which Ushijima secretly appreciates.

2.) Way, way too chill about letting the other do absolutely whatever method they want without any interference. Ushijima thinks it an appropriate measure to almost start a decade long battle of bureaucratic paper work to fix a minor tax loophole that used the wrong verb tense a few centuries earlier? Yeah, Tendou’s fine with that, whatevs, have fun. Tendou thinks it would be funny to collapse a bridge in the middle of a snowstorm in front of a horse that just lost its shoe in order to delay a message going from a soldier to his wife who happens to work at a bakery that just happens to be the favorite breakfast place of a squire that just happens to work for a knight who happens to be looking for his squire to relieve him of guard duty when he just happens to be momentarily blinded by the sun and not notice when all of the palace curtains were suddenly swapped to the worst, most awful shade of nauseous orange that anyone had ever witnessed? No, Ushijima’s good as long as Tendou was making the most of his day...and the orange is Tendou’s favorite color.

....cannot stress enough that Ushijima and Tendou really do not have normal human sensibilities in this series.

Have Oikawa or Hinata met the other's Fate and what do they think of them? are they even aware that the other has a Fate?

Nope, they are completely unaware that any one else alive has ever personally met a Fate (it really is exceedingly rare) and no one they’ve mentioned it to (Iwaizumi for Oikawa and Tsukishima for Hinata) has quite believed them because it really does sound kind of crazy.

Whelp, that’s what I got this time! Hope you enjoyed them!

#Hq at Hogwarts #asks #cards #my writing

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fizzingwizard · 4 years

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So I watched Enola Holmes!

As a long time Sherlock Holmes book nerd, I... didn’t actually know if I was going to bother watching it. I pretty much avoid any published Sherlock Holmes fanfiction. It’s not because I think it’s all wrong or bad (there are some pretty famous successful ones out there after all). It just those stories always makes me wish I was reading the originals, I think because my own vision of that world is so strong.

But I also like Millie Bobby Brown, and also, honestly, I just wanted to see what a Henry Cavill Holmes would be like. Because as much as I like Henry Cavill, he’s very much not the guy I’d cast as Holmes.

That’s point number one: Sherlock Holmes is not that important in Enola Holmes. He’s a prop that holds up her story, but not much more. That was clear from the trailer, so I wasn’t expecting him to be anyway.

I also didn’t know that Enola was based on a book series, though I did assume so because of the way they have Enola address the audience directly or sometimes just stare into the camera. It seemed like a way to stylize a first person novel that has a lot of exposition. I haven’t read the books, and I’m not going to, so maybe I’m off on how its written, but anyway, I was right that the movie is based on books.

So as I started watching, I quickly felt concerned over these questions:

Why Sherlock Holmes at all?

Why make Mycroft such a bad guy?

Will Enola be interesting by herself or am I expected to find her interesting just because she’s a Holmes and a feminist?

Where is John Watson?

Now understanding that the movie is based on books, the answers to all these questions are obvious. But I didn’t want spoilers, so I didn’t look it up. Fortunately, the movie answers each question itself anyway.

So I can say it was a fun little movie. Millie Bobby Brown did a really good job. It’s not going to be the next blockbuster, but the quirky Holmes women, as well as the other quirky characters, were more than just entertaining to me. And I enjoyed the specific way they painted the backdrop of the women’s suffrage movement. In school you’re pretty much taught that it happened. It’s things like these - books and movies, etc - which may take creative liberties with history, but also showcase the details and grittiness that textbooks wash out.

And I did like Enola for herself. She’s like Anne of Green Gables if her hobby were puzzles instead of daydreams. I liked The Boy too (sorry I can’t be bothered to type his name! let’s call him Tooks). He was pleasantly ridiculous while being any teenage girl’s dreamboat. Does he qualify as a himbo?

The relationship between Enola and Tooks was cute and didn’t distract from everything else. I loved the framing of Enola’s injury tryng to rescue the sheep with her trying to rescue Tooks. At first, it was just sweet, but that scene at the end where we find out that she succeeded at rescuing the sheep totally cinched it for me. Although it’s the typical thing for a young heroine to do - go against her mother’s advice because she hasn’t experienced life enough to become so careful and calculating, and do the selfless thing - it also meant that Enola’s not just her mother’s puppet, she makes her own choices.

We’re seeing the dynamic of competent-woman-idiot-male-sidekick a bit more often, and the thing that always stands out is how rarely the male sidekick is ever really an idiot. Like Tooks, usually they get chances to be cool. So it’s not quite the same as the old trope of “hero rescues damsel in distress.” But honestly, nowadays, who’d want it to be? A totally passive character is boring. You rarely remember the damsel, only that the hero won her. Women actually like romance, we want to like and remember the love interest. :P And even then. The true hero/damsel trope appears rather historically that people think. Because, guess what, most writers like to write characters, not tropes.

The flip side of all this is that there is also a theme that’s becoming more and more common about feminism where the woman still ends up in a relationship, and it still being feminist. Like the recent Little Women movie, where Jo has to suffer and wrestle with herself for so long in her journey to achieve her dreams and in the end discovers marriage is part of her dream. None of this is wrong, but it is interesting how we see “lone feminist” as someone cold and sad about being alone, and are so quick to embrace the feminist who wants to be in a romantic relationship with men. The feminist can’t be whole if she’s sacrificed her ability to love for feminism. Meanwhile, in Enola, Sherlock Holmes, a man, is right there, being unmarried and uninterested in love and happy anyway.

None of this is Enola Holmes’s fault, it’s just a trend that I keep seeing in modern, uncomplicated feminist stories.

In sum, I liked Enola, I liked Tooks, the movie didn’t blow me out of the water or anything but I wasn’t expecting it too... I’m pretty sure this is for kids? In which case it’s fun and interesting the way Matilda or Pippi Longstocking are fun and interesting. As for the other questions...

Why Sherlock Holmes? Because he’s Sherlock Holmes. If you want to write about a female detective, and you want to do it against the backdrop of women’s suffrage in Victorian England, I think it’s only natural to make her a Holmes. That being said, Henry Cavill... is great, but not Sherlock Holmes. Bahaha. He has way too much chin. Who was that person, not Sherlock. RDJ was a more convincing Sherlock (and RDJ is not a convincing Sherlock!). That doesn’t mean I didn’t like him (I like RDJ too), it’s just a reminder that this is not a Sherlock Holmes movie. That’s why he doesn’t act much like Sherlock Holmes. Inspecting some coal dust does not a Sherlock Holmes make.

Why make Mycroft such a bad guy? Because Mycroft represents England. In the same way the assassin Enola kills says his employer is “England,” Mycroft’s job means the way he feels about Enola reflects the way England feels at the time about what a woman’s role should be. Why they made him such an idiot compared to Sherlock, though... Even after I answered these questions, I sometimes couldn’t help feeling “but it all feels so pointless when you’re just going to change so much of canon!”

Where the heck is John Watson? This one stumped me, but it is answered in the movie as well. I missed it because it wasn’t answered in a way I found satisfying. Pretty much, there’s no Watson because Holmes in Enola hasn’t met him yet. This makes no sense in terms of canon - timewise they’d have met a couple years ago, but canon Waston isn’t the best with dates, so I could overlook that - but Holmes is becoming popular. Holmes is becoming famous. Watson does that. Before Watson, Holmes is well known at Scotland Yard, but he’s more infamous than famous, and he’s not in many headlines partly because he makes an effort not to be. So Enola Holmes shouldn’t be well known at all if there’s no Watson praising him from the hilltops. I was half-expecting the movie to end with “pssst... Enola is the real Watson!” but I’m glad it didn’t. It sounds like Watson is a background character in the books so all of this was just “we couldn’t think of anything for Watson to do so we cut him.” But as weird as it is to ever see Holmes without Watson for me, if he’d been included he probably would have had like a couple stupid pro-patriarchy comments to make and that’s it. The Sherlockian me is baffled, but the wiser me thinks his absence is for the best.

#sherlock holmes #enola holmes

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a-solitary-marshmallow · 4 years

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Please Don’t See Me - Chapter 4

As shaky as things with Rebus had begun, they quickly settled into a comfortable companionship. The wolf was stubborn and willful when he wanted to be but it was… actually quite nice, to have someone to talk to.

As the days passed Rebus allowed Ford closer and closer, finally permitting Ford to brush his wild fur when more than a few of Ford’s belongings got tangled up in there. If anything Rebus seemed to appreciate the grooming. Ford couldn’t say he liked having his hair brushed (it was too short to do anything with and he’d never had anyone try to touch it beyond casual hair-ruffling) but he had to admit, it was quite soothing to run his hands through clean, silky fur.

If only the wolf wasn’t so frightening to look at.

Ford sighed, standing alone and empty-handed at the front door where the mailman had run off screaming, taking Ford’s package with him. Rebus yawned and stretched and looked generally imposing and wolf-like.

“Could you not scare away the postman?” Ford complained. Rebus looked entirely unapologetic. “Unbelievable.”

____________________________________________________________________

“You’re only making this harder on yourself.”

Rebus growled stubbornly and planted his ass on the porch, refusing to move no matter how much Ford pushed and pulled. If only the darn wolf wasn’t so heavy! Ford was up to his elbows in thick fur.

“You’re filthy, and you’re shedding!” He pressed his back against the wolf and shoved, only managing to slide him a few centimeters. Great. In an hour they might reach the front door. “You need a wash.”

Rebus let out a little growl.

“Oh, stop that.” Ford grabbed handfuls of fur and pulled. The hound sighed dramatically and flopped onto the deck, making Ford squawk in frustration. “Don’t lie down! Rebus!”

Rebus resolutely ignored him. Ford straightened.

“Of course. Of course I have to deal with this.”

Rebus’s outright refusal to bathe almost reminded him of his teenaged years, Ma bullying Stanley into washing. ‘A dip in tha ocean doesn’t count!’ She’d scold. ‘Go get yer ass in the shower or I’ll empty a bucket a’ water over yer head!’

Hmm.

Rebus yelped when Ford dumped a bucket of cold water over him. Ford snickered at the wrinkled nose and dirty glare Rebus shot him as he crawled, wet and dripping, from the rather sudden puddle.

“You were the one who refused to move to the bathroom. Don’t blame me for the consequences.”

Ford got to feel vindictively gleeful, up until Rebus shook and sprayed him from head to toe in dirty water.

____________________________________________________________________

Ford went on a shopping run to stock up on supplies. When he returned, Rebus was curled up on the couch and the TV was blaring. Ford froze in the doorway.

Rebus glanced up almost guiltily. Reruns continued to play. The wolf rolled

sideways onto the remote and the TV switched off. Rebus yawned, stretched, and padded away, leaving Ford gaping.

____________________________________________________________________

It was past midnight and Rebus was still bothering him! Ford threw down his pen and turned to glare blearily at the fussing animal. Rebus glared back from his spot in the doorway of Ford’s study.

“What? I already fed you! I’m busy.”

Wait, had he fed the wolf? He must have, Rebus would bark and whine and generally be a nuisance if Ford forgot. So what else did he want? Ford was getting frustrated with all the pacing and the stares. Rebus had been sending him those looks all night! All… morning? Afternoon? Ford wasn’t sure how long he’d been at it. He was pretty sure he’d pulled at least one all-nighter in the last few days but it was all a little hazy.

Tugging – Rebus had bitten his sweater sleeve and was currently tugging Ford out of his chair. Ford yelped and grabbed the desk to steady himself.

“Hey!”

He pulled back. Rebus yanked again with a jerk of his head and sent Ford stumbling forward.

“Let me go – you ridiculous animal – hey!”

Rebus continued dragging him through the house until Ford stumbled and caught himself on the frame of his bedroom door. He grabbed Rebus’s jaw to try and pry the fabric from his teeth but Rebus shook his head from side to side to avoid the reaching hands.

At some point it devolved into a tug-of-war, Ford still half inside his sweater and unable to hold back snorts of laughter at how hopelessly tangled he was quickly becoming. He wrestled Rebus to the ground as well as he could one-armed. Rebus growled playfully and tugged at his clothes.

Ford wheezed. He hadn’t noticed it while at his desk, but now that he was moving his vision was swimming a little. Come to think of it, when had he last slept? He was conveniently near his bedroom, as if that was where Rebus had been so intent on pulling him. Maybe a nap wouldn’t hurt…?

Rebus seemed to sense that Ford’s head wasn’t in the game anymore, because he quit playing and instead leaned against Ford’s side. The scientist yawned and reached up blindly to pet Rebus’s ears.

“Yes, yes… play can wait. I think I’ll try to catch a few hours of sleep.”

Rebus didn’t seem too disheartened. In fact, he watched sternly as Ford stumbled to bed, letting out a satisfied huff when Ford’s head hit the pillow.

Odd behaviour… Ford thought, before slipping into dreams.

____________________________________________________________________

Rebus growled and dodged out of the way as Ford tried to clip the harness around his chest.

“Stay still! A leash is necessary if I don’t want to get in trouble. It’s either this or a collar, and you made your position clear on collars.”

Rebus glared at the object in Ford’s hand. The scientist scowled.

“You and I both know you don’t need a leash. But the residents of Gravity Falls don’t. They’ll get in a panic if you walk up unrestrained! Do you want to visit the town or not?”

The stare-off continued, until Rebus finally looked away. Ears pressed flat, he slunk forward to unhappily let Ford clip him in.

“See? Not so hard.” Ford said triumphantly. Rebus continued to mope the entire drive down to Gravity falls. That is, until the houses came into view. The wolf perked up, even going so far as to press his face to the window to get a good view of the town around them.

Once Ford parked and they exited the vehicle, getting around became a little more difficult, what with the teen screaming ‘WOLF’ and jumpscaring everyone on the street. Ford lifted his hands, holding the leash in clear view, in the hopes of de-escalating the situation.

“It’s okay, he’s domesticated. He’s my, uh…” Damn, he hadn’t thought this far ahead. “…dog. A crossbreed.”

The teen continued to peer suspiciously at the obviously-a-wolf. Rebus wagged his tail helpfully.

“…okay.” She said dubiously. “Er – what’s its name?”

“Rebus.”

The teen tipped her head, still squinting somewhat. “Does it bite?”

“Certainly not.” Ford lied. Well, it technically wasn’t a lie – Rebus didn’t bite people. The wolf in question stepped forward to greet the slightly-less-suspicious teenager, who hesitantly offered one hand.

“Um. Hi, Rebus? I’m Matilda.” She added to Ford, who nodded and introduced himself in turn.

“Stanford Pines.”

Matilda looked up suddenly from petting Rebus. “Wait, you’re the scientist dude who lives in that weird shack?”

Ford rubbed the back of his neck. “Ah, well, yes. I am a scientist.”

“No kidding. Everyone knows about you, dude. They’ve just never met you before. Or heard your name or know anything about you.”

“I tend to keep to myself.” Ford admitted. “How did you know who I am?”

“My boyfriend Dan talks about you sometimes.”

“Ah, yes, Boyish Dan. The lumberjack.”

Matilda sent him finger guns. She seemed quite laid-back when she wasn’t screaming about wolves. Ford decided to chalk up that incident to surprise.

“Well, give him my regards. Rebus and I must be on our way before the shop closes.”

“Sure.” Matilda stood, dusting hair off her jeans. “And, uh, just a word of advice; you might wanna get that dog a collar.”

Rebus shot him a glare. Ford sighed. “I’ll certainly keep that in mind.”

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Ford had grown used to the crashing of gnomes raiding his bins every few days. When he first came to Gravity Falls he’d tried to put a stop to it, but they’d always come back the next day. Eventually he had given up. They rarely tried coming inside, and as long as they stuck to raiding the bins and nothing else it was tolerable.

But he hadn’t heard the tell-tail banging and clattering for almost a week now. Ford peeked through the window to check; there sat a row of untouched bins. The gnomes hadn’t just gotten very quiet all of a sudden; they hadn’t come at all. Why had they suddenly decided to leave his house alone? Not that he wasn’t thankful. More often than not they would leave a mess for Ford to clean up after.

There was the clicking of claws, and Rebus brushed against his legs on his way to the lounge. Ford failed to notice the strands of grey beard hair sticking out against his dark coat, and turned away from the window just in time to miss a party of scuffed and bruised gnomes scrambling into the forest as fast as their little legs could carry them.

____________________________________________________________________

Ford had made a slight, miniscule mistake.

A lapse of judgment, maybe. He’d gotten so caught up in a recent breakthrough that he had… maybe… forgotten to pay the power bills. And the water bills. And, he was pretty sure, a couple other bills he probably should have been paying.

With the sudden onset of a blizzard he was now firmly shut up in his not-heated house, shivering against the chill. He’d tried lighting a fire but what little firewood he had available had been soaked through by the melting snow. Ford resorted to bundling up in the warmest clothes he could find and huddling on the couch.

He shot a jealous look at Rebus, still shivering slightly under layers of blankets. The wolf’s heavy coat had finally come in handy and now he lay, perfectly warm and content, on the carpet.

Ford pulled his blankets tighter around him, unable to suppress a shiver. He vowed to never forget to pay his electricity bills again.

Rustling got his attention – Rebus had gotten up from his comfortable napping spot and yawned, before jumping up onto the couch next to Ford. Ford lifted one corner of the blankets invitingly.

Rebus squirmed in with him, heavy and warm, like an oversized heater. Ford didn’t object when the wolf lay half on top of him and yawned again. He only buried his face and hands in the warm fur and, toasty and comfortable for the first time in hours, fell asleep.

(he would wake up the next morning with a crick in his neck and a wolf snoring against him, warm despite the frostiness of the air. And after that night Rebus would often sleep by him, curled up at his feet or at the foot of his bed or flopped across him without a care in the world, as if liberated by the realization that he was truly safe and wanted)

#please don't see me #my writing #my fic #chapter 4 #gravity falls #the stans #werewolf stan au #werewolf!stan

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daughters-and-winsisters · 5 years

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Huntress- Part 22: Promise

Sam x Daughter!Reader, takes place in S12 E22 so warning:SPOILERS

Part one Part two Part three Part four Part five Part Six Part Seven Part Eight Part Nine Part Ten Part Eleven Part Twelve Part Thirteen Part Fourteen Part Fifteen Part Sixteen Part Seventeen Part Eighteen Part Nineteen Part Twenty Part Twenty One

“There’s gotta be a way out.” Uncle Dean said firmly to the room. He’d found the control panel and was switching all the lights that he could back on, revealing the empty hallways. Toni was on the steps, slightly higher than the rest of you as though putting on some sort of authoritarian presence would help in this kind of situation.

You’d sunk to the floor, trying to clean up your wound with the first aid kit even though your Dad had told you to wait for him. He came in, shooting frowning at you, he had a cloth and a spare sweatshirt. “Hey, I got it.” He said gently, kneeling down and taking over. You threw your head back against the wall and sighed, “She didn’t mean to miss.” “What?” “Mary, she aimed to kill. I just ducked quickly.” You said, not really sure what your point was. “She’s not herself, you know that?” “Oh Y/N knows that better than anyone.” Toni cut in.

“Alright alright,” Uncle Dean waved her away, “come on. Let’s think. Uh…air vents?” “There’s choke points, not even I could squeeze through.” Toni dismissed. “Okay,” Uncle Dean nodded, “well then how about we just kill you.” “I’ll do it.” You said, offering Toni a sickly-sweet smile. Toni glared back, “Mummy would be so proud.” “Seriously, you heard what Ketch said,” Dean continued, “we’ve got three days of air. Killing her might buy us another day.” “But you need me,” Toni said, “I’m the only one who can reverse Mary’s treatment.” “There is no reverse,” You said, “there’s nothing we can do…” You glanced at your Dad sadly and he paused from bandaging, taking a moment to realise just how familiar you were with this sort of thing. “We’ve progressed since then, Y/N. There’s reverse treatment and it’s not yet too late for Mary. Face it, you need me alive.”

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“It won’t work.” Toni said, making you all look up from your books. “We can use magic to reverse the mechanisms.” Your Dad explained, taking another lore book from the increasing pile. “Yes,” Toni nodded, “and it won’t work. Ketch will have thought about that and prevented any magic. I know it.” The bandage on your arm was a little too tight and you kept having to wiggle your fingers to make it more comfortable. The blood loss had made you a little more light headed than would be ideal in this sort of scenario, but you were okay. You all leaned back from your books in defeat, “Tell me something,” you began, your voice was louder than it usually was and you were holding back rage, “if you’re so fucking smart then you find a way out of here.” Everyone stared at you, Toni’s face white. “Not so talkative now, are you?” You taunted, “Listen, if you wanna circle around us making comments at the very least make them useful. Because otherwise you’re just wasting air, okay?”

There was a moment where you thought that was it, that was all anyone was going to say, but Toni said something you weren’t expecting, “You can get us out.” You glanced over to your Dad and Uncle before looking back at Toni, “What?” “These powers that you have, you can control them. You can use them to do just about anything. Yes, getting the doors open will be mentally exhausting but it is possible. You can control them, Y/N, focus on getting us out of here.” “I’m sorry, powers?” Uncle Dean repeated. “Y/N has similar psychic abilities to what Sam had a few years ago….don’t look so surprised, of course we knew about those. Only, they’ve become enhanced with the introduction of a Nephilim. Some sort of celestial power surge if you will.” “Like that power up thing that happened to Cas?” Uncle Dean questioned and you shrugged. “Yeah, but all I’ve done is pass out and unwillingly had visions.” You commented, annoyed you hadn’t realised this earlier. “You’ve had visions?” Your Dad asked. You didn’t look at him. “Y/N, I can try and help you. This is our only shot.” Toni said, ignoring your Dad completely. You looked at your Dad, he had a concerned expression and was fidgeting with his shirt. “This is crazy.” Uncle Dean said before getting up from his chair. “Again, visions?” Your Dad repeated. “I don’t know…I saw you three in the car when you were on your way back to the bunker. It just happened.” Your Dad nodded slowly.

You took a deep breath in and looked at Toni, “Okay, I can try. Dad, Uncle De, you guys should look for other options. We’ve not got long…” Uncle Dean nodded gently, “Okay, kid.” Your Dad came over to you and reassured you, “Whatever happens, it’s okay. Alright, bug?” You nodded. “Yeah, Dad. Thanks.”

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Your brain hurt. It was so tired. Exhausted from the blood loss, shaken up from the past few days and practically falling apart over this stupid celestial power crap. And to top it all off, Toni was going to be one of the last people you see. That was great. Just great.

“Just focus on it.” Toni hissed, already getting impatient. You’d spent hours staring at a pencil trying to move it. It was ridiculous. You felt like Matilda only you weren’t going to be the hero, but the idiot who can see visions of other people across the state by accident but can’t even move a pencil when they try. The pencil didn’t even look real anymore, almost a 2D imprint on the table. You could scratch it away with a knife if you tried. “Toni, it’s not gonna work.” You sighed, leaning back in your chair. This was it- you’d already admitted defeat. On the other hand, Toni had not. “Brooks. We are going to die and you are the only one here who can change that. I refuse to die. Especially surrounded by you…you fools!” “Oh, you refuse to die, do you? Oh thank goodness! Don’t worry everyone, Toni refuses to die. Good luck with this one, Death.” “You’re unbelievable.” Toni tutted. “I’m not the one who spent years of my life lying and cheating, murdering other people and their families all for a job,” you shot up from your seat, “It’s not even a real job! And you didn’t even get it!” You chuckled, angry and fed up. As you rose from your chair, both you and Toni remained unaware of the books on the shelves and the plates and the cups on the tables rising with you. They floated, a few centimetres above their resting place, shaking with you as your rage boiled over. “Brooks, this isn’t about that. We need to get out of here, it’s not my fault you can’t even move a bloody pencil. You’re pathetic.”

You cried back at her, “I tried! I tried for hours! It’s not going to happen.”

“Fine,” Toni snapped, “I’ll find a way out myself.”

You watched her turn the corner and felt all the anger in you die away, sending you to the floor. If it wasn’t for the crash of everything else falling back with you, you would have stayed knelt. But the overbearing sound raced to your ears and you rose back to your feet, scanning your surroundings. There was crockery and cutlery and pages and pages of books scattered about the floor. Some of the plates were smashed into pieces as unwanted jigsaws. Most of the books landed back shut, but a few were sprawled out, pages bent and creased where they had landed.

Your hands were trembling.

Your ears were ringing.

Your wound pounded with a dull sting.

The pencil was gone.

You stumbled backwards, each breath hitched in your throat and your blood throbbed in your head. In a desperate panic you stammered out an attempt to shout that came out as a barely a whisper: “Dad…”

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Sam’s POV

Dean and I were stood around a pile of blueprints, desperately skimming through the maps of the Bunker, trying to find a loophole in the system or any sort of emergency escape. There was one way out, but the walls were way too thick to break down quick enough, especially with the lack of air. “How do you think they’re getting on?” I asked Dean, nervously folding down the corner of a page. “It’s Toni and Y/N, they’re probably killing each other.” “Dean.” “Well, you remember how freaked out you were when you had those dreams, Y/N’s probably feeling just the same, if not worse. There’s no way we’re getting out of here that way. I’m sorry, I just don’t think it’s possible. Maybe if we had more time, but we can’t possibly do this in just a couple hours…and frankly, I don’t think Y/N thinks she can either.” “Yeah,” I nodded, “you’re probably right…I just can’t believe this is how it’s gonna end. After everything. I wish there was a way, even if we could just get Y/N out of here.” Dean looked at me for a long time, his eyes sad, “Yeah…me too…”

I thought about how unfair this was, about how Y/N had finally escaped those British Men of Letter’s bitches, and that they were still going to be the death of her. The bunker was supposed to be a home, but Ketch was right, it was just another tomb. I could already feel the air getting thin, my breaths were deeper each time and there was a faint exhaustion to atmosphere.

A crash made me and Dean glance up from the maps, it wasn’t just something falling, it was a cacophony of noises only all at once. I leapt from my chair, Dean not far behind and raced to where we’d last left Y/N.

She was on the floor, out cold as though the air had already left her lungs. “Y/N!” I hurried over to where she lay and examined her for any signs of wounds. Other than the one I’d bandaged earlier, she looked unharmed. “Y/N, hey, hey? Y/N, sweetheart, hey. Come on. Wake up, bug.” I panicked, holding her so she was leaning against my chest. She didn’t show any time of waking up, still unconscious. “DEAN!?” I cried out, checking to see if she was still breathing. Her breaths were shallow, but she was breathing. Dean raced over to us, “Come on, let’s get her to a bed.”

I gently picked up my girl, following Dean down the hallway.

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Y/N lay on my bed, her bullet wound looking like a cat scratch, now. Dean had gone to find Toni and figure out what had happened as well as a way out of here. I know I should have been helping them. I know that there was no point being at her side while we had less than a day left for us, but I couldn’t bring myself to.

Her face was pale and my stomach churned.

“I’m sorry, baby girl.” I whispered, moving so I was next to her on the bed and taking her hand in mine.

Her hand was cold and my stomach churned.

Even though she was alive, I couldn’t help but think about how this could be the last time I was going to see her. Unresponsive, unconscious.

“Please wake up,” my voice broke and my lip trembled, “just wake up, Y/N. For your Dad, yeah? Please…”

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Dean came in the room. His movements were slow which meant there wasn’t any good news. “How is she?” He asked, perching on the bed and avoiding both my gaze and where Y/N lay. “I don’t know.” I admitted, shaking my head. “She’s a good kid,” Dean said, “and you’re a good Dad.” I smiled through teary eyes, “And she has a good Uncle.” Dean smiled back.

We sat in silence, neither wanting to ruin the melancholy moment we were in.

Y/N stirred a little and I adjusted, giving her room to move. Her eyes opened slowly and she brought her hand to her head, scrunching her face up like she had a headache. I smiled with relief, able to forget for a moment our doom. “Y/N?” I said, “Oh thank God.” I let out the breath I’d been holding, “Hey, it’s okay. I’m here.” She slowly moved so she was sat up against the headboard, looking at both me and Dean. “You okay, bug?” I asked. The way she responded was as though her reality was a few seconds behind. “Yeah, I’m okay…” She managed.

Dean looked at her sternly, “You better not be doing that thing where you say you’re okay, but you’re actually not.” “You meant that thing you always do?” She managed with a smile and I let out a panicked chuckle. “Shut up.” Dean said, letting himself smile and giving her hand a squeeze.

“What the hell happened?” I asked. Y/N shrugged and went quiet. “Hey, uh, Dean, maybe you should go help Toni?” I suggested, shooting him a look that only a brother would understand. He nodded, putting a hand gently on my shoulder as he passed by.

Y/N stared at our surroundings, her face crestfallen and tired. “Everything…fell with me.” She said quietly, picking at the fraying edges of her sleeve. “What do you mean?” “I tried…I really tried. But I don’t know what this thing is in me and I just don’t know how to control it…” “I know you tried, sweetheart. It’s okay.” “But I couldn’t do it…and Toni was getting mad. I got angry and then something inside me just sort of grew and grew, and then it just went. And everything else…went.” I frowned, trying to understand or grasp any sort of pattern to what was happening to her. But I couldn’t. I didn’t know what was happening. I was supposed to be the one she went to for help. And I was helpless.

“I don’t know what this is, but we’ll figure it out, okay? It’s what we always do. I promise.” I wrapped my arms around her and held her close to my chest. It wasn’t something I would admit, but we were both more than aware that a promise in this situation was empty. This was our last day.

I held back a sob and pressed a kiss to her head instead.

“We don’t have a way out of here, do we?” Y/N looked up at me with scared eyes and I felt my heart ache with the guilt of a helpless father. “We’re working on it.” I said. I probably didn’t sound confident at all.

I sat on the bed, my daughter in my arms as though that could protect her from what was coming. As though a barrier of my body was a suitable opponent for a lack of oxygen.

Her timid voice broke the silence. Timid: nothing like what it was when she had shouted at Toni.

“Dad?”

Her voice was so quiet and I clenched my jaw to stop myself from tearing up. I had to be strong for her.

“Yeah, bug?”

“I’m sorry…”

I held her close and shook my head, “No, sweetie. You don’t have anything to be sorry for. I’m so proud of you, you know that? So proud,” My voice broke and a tear escaped, running down my cheek, “and your Mom…she’d be so proud of you.”

She nodded against my hold, “I know, I just feel like I blew it…”

“You didn’t.” I said with certainty.

She sat up and slowly turned her head to the corridor to the back room. I let her go and wiped my eyes before she looked at me. “…blew it…” She repeated to herself, getting up from the bed and hurrying down the hallway. “Y/N!?” I followed behind her, confused as to where this was going.

We ended up in one of the backrooms where she moved around the boxes as best she could with only one usable arm, clearly looking for something specific. I tried to help as best I could, but didn’t know what she was looking for. She then kicked away a box and grinned. “What is it?” I asked, leaning over to see. In front of her was the grenade launcher, ready to shoot. We’d never actually used it, but Dean would sometimes bring up how desperate he was to fire the thing. I nodded, letting out a laugh of disbelief.

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Reader’s POV

“You’re lunatics,” Toni paced the room with her arms folded over her chest, “this is a colossally stupid idea.” “Yeah you’re right let’s just suffocate to death and wonder if we could’ve made it out. Sounds a lot safer.” You remarked. “It’s big, it’s beautiful…and its’ dumb.” Uncle Dean smirked, holding the grenade launcher over his shoulder. “The explosion could kill us all! You’d bring the whole bloody place crashing down!” Toni continued. “Yeah.” Uncle Dean smirked. “Yeah.” Dad nodded. “Yeah.” You grinned.

“You’re lunatics. Action-movie-loving, cheeseburger-eating, moronic American lunatics!” “Hope you’re not including me in that.” You smiled sweetly to her as your Dad took her away. You watched them go, choosing to stay behind with your Uncle and watch in case anything happened. Although mostly because it was really cool and you wanted to watch.

Uncle Dean fired, the moment between the pulling of the trigger and the impact of the grenade was barely a millisecond. There was a mighty explosion where pieces of the place crashed down to the floor, bricks and rubble and dust rained down on the floor, but you could just about make out Uncle Dean clambering into a gap in the wall, coughing at the dust. You raced after him, almost tripping up over the pile of bricks. Their rusty colour was interrupted by streaks of ash and dust. There was a ladder built into the wall just behind the gap, you glanced up to see your Uncle making his way to the top, shielding your eyes from the falling rubble. Without hesitating, you followed on.

The wounded arm of yours groaned in pain with each tug of your body up the ladder. You winced, but continued on. Luckily, you had made it close enough for him to see you, “Y/N? What the hell are you doing?” He coughed, doing a double take. “Keep going, old man.” You said, waiting for his foot to move so you could grab the next rung. He shook his head at you, adjusted his grip and turned his head to keep going. As he did so, a rumble of debris made itself known as it fell its way down on top of you both. “De!” You cried, shooting a hand out over above your head in panic and ducking your head, preparing for impact. The sudden movement made the wound in your arm send a strike of pain along it’s nerves and you whimpered. Nothing happened for a little too long, making you frown. “Y/N, how the hell are you doing that?” Uncle Dean said in awe, making you look up. Where your hand was reached out was the pile of rubble, floating in mid-air, as though in slow motion. “I don’t know…” You stammered out, watching it with both amazement and fear that it could come crashing down at any moment, “De you should go in case it falls.” “No way, it’ll fall on you.” He said sternly, putting a hand out for you to take. You looked at it, it was covered in dirt and there was a little scratch that had been bleeding. “If I take my attention away from this it’ll probably fall on both of us. Just go!” “Y/N take my hand. If we’re lucky the rubble will just fall past us. I think you’ve moved it out of the way a little.” You hesitated, watching your Uncle’s determined expression: “Y/N!”

Reluctantly, you turned your attention away from the falling objects and grasped hold of your Uncles hand, immediately holding your body as close to the wall as you could in attempt to miss the debris. They fell past, most missing you by a couple of inches, but a few fell onto you both, making cuts and bruises and gashes. The sound was never-ending. One particularly large rock slammed into Uncle Dean’s leg, making him cry out in pain, it’ passed you by but caught the rung you were standing on, knocking it off the wall. You yelped, feeling your weight now relying on nothing to keep you up there. “I’ve got you!” Uncle Dean assured, his voice just about audible over the crash beneath you. He pulled you up so you were able to grab hold of the next rung which you did. The pain in your arm was worse than when you’d been shot in the first place. You grunted and switched so you were relying on the other arm. “Thanks,” You breathed, “I think that’s the last of them.” “You good?” He asked, despite being the one with the obvious wound. “I’m good,” You nodded, “let’s go.”

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With a limp in his step, Uncle Dean made his way to the door of the bunker, you following behind. You’d flicked what you hoped was the override switch to the system. When the door opened instead of a doomsday red, the normal yellowish glow welcomed you home and you were overcome with relief. Uncle Dean put his arm around you and pulled you in for a quick side hug, ruffling your hair. He smiled proudly, looking down on the bunker’s interior. “Nice going, kiddo.”

Part Twenty Three- To Be Saved

Masterlist I do not own these gifs (Tag list after cut )

@nnoxygen @summerbee53 @lil-sister-winchester @itsrainbowunicornstuff @graceless-dragon @iamflanneltrash @clairedelalune @winchester-2301 @lavender-winchester @anarahma @mariahoedt @shewhoscreamssilently @livelikeawinchester @metaphysicalmisha @storyofawinchester @fandomsstolemylife00 @griff1ndor @mollykmccarthy @27bmm @archangelsandwarlocks @bea789 @imprettycool-i-guess @lovelife-tothefullest @jayankles @seninjakitey @stressedoutkitten @juneinthered @thyotakukimkim @susan-is-in-the-house @fountain-pen-of-youth @analisespn

@barbygrozna @yoursmilemakesmeloveyou @chelseypaigeake @impala-hunter @msdooos @starswirlblitz @fanboyswhereare-you @amorluzymelodia @d-willem @adidabach @blackjack-the-sword @spazzstiel @booksarecoolio @winchesters-favorite-girl @squirels-angels-and-moose @27bmm @practicallyawinchester @demonic-meatball @xsecretrejectx @bea789 @sarahthewriter55 @jiggysupernatural @trashforwinchesters @snazzyjazzyh @diesintheshower @intoomuchfandoms @the-chick-with-the-best-fandom @kbarnett1089 @riversong-sam @intoomuchfandoms @teamfreewill-67 @revwinchester @jensen-jarpad @itseverythingilike @avalon821 @miss-miep @lovelouisbabe @wcmanwcnder @graceless-dragon @sofy7012 @yoursmilemakesmeloveyou @oneshotsdeanshort @caroldanversinatardis @soulfiretheobsessed @whovianayesha @fandomsstolemylife00 @straightasdeanwinchester @soullessbabee @heytherecutie13 @spnkisum @clairedelalune @honeybeetrash @sammy-salamander @reddeputation @internationalmusicteacher @andyl394 @kysosa @stitchattacks @not-astounding

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pluviophile-bookworm · 4 years

Text

AWAE 1x3 rewatch: thoughts and reactions

I took a completely unannounced break from posting my reactions to AWAE. How rude of me. But I hope whoever reads these can forgive me, as I’m sure you’d understand that university is no joke. I’m not going to be posting for a while because I simply haven’t got the time to rewatch and write a reaction post, but I’ll be back as soon as I can. For now, I’m leaving you with my thoughts on 1x3 in celebration of the Netflix release of season 3.

I’m actually really excited to be rewatching this episode since I’ve forgotten quite a bit of its plot details. I do remember it marks the first appearance of Gilbert, all the kids, and the school setting. I’ve told myself many times before that if this show was just Anne and her friends going about their day-to-day life, I’d still watch it and love it. So let’s dive right in.

I’m so happy to actually see Anne smile from ear to ear while getting ready for her first day of school. She’s nervous, but excited, and she deserves something positive after being denied so many joys for so many years. True, it will not be easy at first, but I can’t help admiring her positive disposition even though she is several years behind and is still not exactly accepted into the society of Avonlea with open arms.

Anne dropping and breaking that cup reminds me of myself on my first day of middle school - even up to the hope that it’s not a sign of how the rest of the day is going to go. However, unlike me, Anne keeps up the positive attitude and, as I already said, I admire her for it.

As much as I understand why Anne feels the way she does about her looks (she’s only 13 and she’s probably spent all her life being told she was ugly because of her red hair and freckles, and she never found beautiful heroines in the books she read that had those features), I agree with Marilla on this - Anne should find a worthier overriding concern, or indeed feel lucky she doesn’t have to worry about anything bigger than that anymore.

Matthew and Marilla have only had Anne for what, a couple of weeks? But they already look like typical parents sending their only child off to school. I love them so much as parents. I just love them in general, too. Now that was a beautiful cold open, of the type I call “gold open”.

Talking to the trees as if they were fine ladies and decorating her hat with flowers is such an Anne thing to do... society may find it odd, but I love her for it. What can I say, I love this girl and that’s that.

As much as Diana wouldn’t admit it because she was raised by her mother, I believe she loved the way Anne looked with the flowers on her hat. I also believe that she would have very much wants to do the same, but would never be allowed to. Just saying that makes me go back to her awesome development throughout the majority of season 3... Anne has been a big influence on her, obviously.

“It won’t be long until my parents accept you” - well, they did, but they were still very disapproving of Jerry and his family just because they’re poor - which is probably not their fault. And I know it took saving Minnie May’s life for them to accept Anne, while Jerry never did that... but didn’t his family take Diana in when she was (supposedly) so badly injured she couldn’t walk? Isn’t that a good thing? and instead of accepting the Baynards, the Barries were even more terrible to them afterwards. Double standards much? Ok, I got sidetracked. Let’s go back to 1x3.

The whole scene of Anne meeting Moody and Charlie has me laughing out loud, from the “I’m Moody” - “I’m sorry” exchange, which makes me think that Moody’s name is dad joke material, to Diana’s “Don’t talk to the boys. They’re ridiculous.” And then she mentions Gilbert Blythe in a way that makes me think - am I correct in assuming she had some sort of feelings for him, too? Did every girl have a crush on him but repress it in favour of Ruby? What would Ruby say about that?

These girls have me in stitches, a much needed change from the tragedy and drama of the first two episodes. And then... there were many “started from the bottom” moments in this season, naturally, but I think Jane is an exception to the rule. She actually started out pretty well, standing up to her brother for a social outcast she just met, and then in season three she almost supports him in something much more terrible. She had potential. That’s such a glow-down. But hey, not everybody can be Prissy.

“Never let them know when you like them, either” Is that what you do with Gilbert, dear? Because I don’t think you’re very good at it. But it seems that Anne took that advice a bit too literally. That would explain a lot of her actions throughout the series.

Wait, Mrs. Andrews was one of the ladies who invited Marilla into the Progressive Mothers? Seems like Prissy turned out to be more her mother’s daughter than her father’s, then. But it’s a bit of a mystery to me how a progressive woman married a man who takes his son’s side when he assaults a girl... Seriously, the whole Andrews family is a mystery to me. First we have Prissy and Billy, who grow up to be like their mother and their father respectively - while being raised by both parents; and then there’s Jane whose character development is in the wrong direction if it’s there at all. I can’t figure them out at all.

Anne and Diana’s polar opposite reactions to long division is a perfect illustration of their vastly different backgrounds. While privileged Diana is long done with long division, Anne just realises how far behind she is because she’s spent her young life working in abusive households instead of getting the least bit of proper education. It just makes you wonder how she managed to become such an avid reader when she never seemed to have any proper formal education. But there is the case of Matilda Wormwood who taught herself to read even in the worst possible environment, so why not?

I’m glad the age difference between Mr. Phillips and Prissy is at least acknowledged by someone... while I wouldn’t quite describe him as “old”, he’s more than old enough to make a relationship with 16-year-old Prissy wildly inappropriate and an outright crime by today’s standards. I’m so glad things turned out the way they did for Prissy in the end.

Wait, so people back then used to think that a simple touch between a male and a female meant intimate relations? No wonder the girls reacted the way they did when the time came to dance with boys in season 3. This, along with the entirety of 3x5, is solid proof how badly these young people need proper sex ed... unfortunately, they won’t be getting it. They’re pretty much on their own when it comes to that.

I have no idea how i’m going to endure seeing Mr. Phillips for the rest of the season. And half of the second one. He’s one of those people that just make you wonder how on earth they ever became teachers. Like, even if he was somehow convinced he wanted to become one when he was young, how did people responsible for his higher education let him proceed to that profession with a character like his? Internalised homophobia or whatever Freudian excuse people may think of for him is certainly no excuse for the way he’s treating Anne in this scene. But can I take a moment to share a weird observation I just made - it just so happens that Anne starts her acquaintance with both her teachers in the series by spreading rumours - although accidentally.

“Are they in love?” - “When it comes to intimate relations, I’m not sure it matters.” Anne just spoke a dark truth without realising it. Although her knowledge is vague and filled with unusual euphemisms, she seems to have realised something important - love and physical intimacy aren’t mutually required in a relationship - unfortunately. I don’t even want to talk about it. Maybe I’m just not the right person to discuss such matters.

Talk about abusive household... even Anne, a very young girl with no sex ed, realised Mr. Hammond habitually raped his wife when he would get drunk... imagine the horrors the poor girl has endured in that family - and the horrors the members of the family themselves have had to go through on a daily basis... and now the girls are isolating Anne because of what she’s experienced... let’s skip ahead.

“Feminism... what exactly does it mean”? Well, ask Anne Shirley- Cuthbert - I’m sure she can explain it to you. Because you ladies insist on calling yourselves progressive, but some of you seem to not understand that true feminism is about treating all, and that means absolutely all women as equal to each other and to men.

“Especially for those who are unlikely to marry” - what exactly do you mean by that? Is a girl who doesn’t get married before 17 somehow less worthy of respect in your opinion? I don’t know exactly who that woman thinks she is, but I didn’t like the suggestion in her tone...

I’m just glad Anne plucked away the flowers from her hat before Marilla could see them... of course, she should be free to wear as many flowers on her hat and in her hair as her heart desires, but such is the situation that she can’t afford to do it right now.

Is this the same Rachel Lynde who represented women in a council made up entirely of men? The one who insisted on adding three more women to it? The one who offered Marilla as one of those women? Well, of course you could argue she is not the same Rachel - she was later changed by Anne, like pretty much everyone else in Avonlea. And I’m glad that such a change took place. Because imagine where Avonlea, nay, where the world would be without Anne Shirley- Cuthbert. How dare whoever is responsible for the cancellation take her away from us?

“I reckon every new idea was modern once - until it wasn’t.” Matthew is just about the best man of them all since day one. In Matthew we trust.

“You know, there’s a difference between having an opinion about something and pronouncing judgement” - Marilla just put Rachel in her place by pointing out the fine line between voicing your opinion and acting like your opinion is the only valid one. Good on you, Marilla!

Anne is so dedicated to catching up and advancing further in her education... no wonder she ended up tying with Gilbert for first place at the Queens exams. Speaking of Gilbert, I just can’t wait to see him for the first time again. Is that coming soon?

I just can’t help admiring Anne more and more with every scene... she’s so optimistic about each new day that it just gives me hope that the sun will, indeed, come out tomorrow. Oops, wrong optimistic red-headed orphan... anyways, if the sun doesn’t come out, there’s still Jerry’s refreshing sarcasm and snarky one-liners.

Billy has some nerve calling Anne out for saying “nasty stuff” about his sister - sure, what she said wasn’t the most innocent of things, but she certainly didn’t mean it that way. Besides, Billy himself will go on to do way nastier stuff to another poor girl - and never realise the dramatic irony. Because he’s the classic straight white entitled man, one of those people you just can’t like. No matter what they do.

There he is... couldn’t arrive at a better time, could you, Gil? This is one of my top 5 favourite moments of his throughout the entire series. It’s literally the equivalent of seeing a girl being attacked by a guy and talking to him as if he’s a civilised person instead of taking up his own aggressive tone, and I love that they chose to introduce Gilbert in such a context of all possibilities. “Any dragons around here need slaying?” Gilbert Blythe is a true knight in shining armour and he knows it.

“Miss? What’s your name? Miss?” And thus begins the story of the two most confused teenagers in Canada, the slowest of all slow burns, the love story to end them all. A shaky start, sure, but it’s a start.

“You can’t talk to Gilbert Blythe. You can’t even look at him.” Can you believe they’ve come from here to the point where they unanimously decided Anne was the only one who could ask Gilbert how babies are made... isn’t it ironic? But, I mean, from this episode all the way to the end, she did a very good job of convincing every one of them, including herself, that she didn’t care a single bit about Gilbert.

I just can’t get over Anne’s reciting... she’s certainly managed to get all eyes on her - but mostly Gilbert’s, with the most expressive pair of eyebrows above them... once again, Anne has made a strong impression... one that some liked and some will surely condemn - but it’s their loss.

There goes that scene... the notorious apple from the notorious Blythe orchard we never got to see Shirbert in. And I have to say, Anne might have made a good ventriloquist. Too bad she’s not supposed to talk to Gilbert because... girl code is a thing. They won’t accept her as one of their own, yet she must play by their rules. It just seems unfair.

Do the people of Avonlea have no sense of relativity and context? A bad rumour shouldn’t be taken so dramatically when it is a prepubescent girl who’s spreading it. She should be forgiven on account that she just didn’t know better. Instead, the very same story was repeated years later with Josie, where, again, nobody cared to gauge the circumstances - Anne only intended to defend Josie, not tarnish her reputation. It’s just the skewed priorities of the time that caused things to turn out the way they did.

And this is the little moment that most likely started the spark in Jerry’s mind about wanting an education - just a simple remark from Anne that happened to contain a word he didn’t understand. They do say that it takes just one spark to start a fire. This little boy of mine is going far. Not without Anne, though. The two of them took their time to warm up to each other, but who could stop them when they finally did?

Gilbert is positively going to waste all of his chalk if throwing it at Anne is how he intends to get her attention. I have to say pulling on her braid was a bit too childish for him based on how he was established, but hey, we all have our moments, and for Gilbert, this is one of the most iconic ones in the source material, so why would anyone change it? Anne’s story wouldn’t be authentic if she didn’t crack her slate over Gilbert’s head. This immortal Anne of Green Gables scene was impeccably delivered by the infinitely talented cast of AWAE.

Taking away the E and the Cuthbert from Anne’s name was a cruel thing to do. I can’t tell you how I trembled when I read this scene in the book years ago, just because of the E and how it felt like salt in the cuts left by what had just transpired, but now, the Cuthbert, too - the one thing that is solid proof to Anne that she belongs there - that she belongs to someone who finally accepts, maybe even loves her as she is - that, I have to say, is an awfully terrible thing to do to a young orphan if we look at it through Anne’s eyes. And let’s admit it, we all did in that moment if not in any other.

Storming off is what any sensitive young girl with a strong sense of justice like Anne would do in her place, and, to her credit, she did walk out in dignity at least up to the schoolhouse’s door. I have to say she handled the situation way, way better than I ever could have.

I mean, I would have reacted the same way as Anne when she said she was never going back to school, but let’s think for a second. There’s a little boy in the barn who would gladly take her place. Because going to school, however challenging at times, is a privilege. She should take a moment to catch her breath and realise that.

To sum up, in this episode we saw: Anne’s shaky first day of school; the introduction of all of Anne’s schoolmates; the accidental scandal concerning a supposed scandalous accident; the Andrews family never ceases to puzzle me; “progressive mothers” being not so progressive; Marilla and Anne face similar bad treatment from their respective peers; a shaky start to the slowest of slow burns; a spark is ignited in Jerry; a broken slate and more than one broken heart.

#anne with an e #anne with an e spoilers #awae #awae season 1 #anne shirley cuthbert #gilbert blythe #diana barry #jerry baynard #ruby gillis #moody spurgeon #jane andrews #billy andrews #prissy andrews #marilla cuthbert #matthew cuthbert #in matthew we trust #feminism #jnk watches awae

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quinnmorgendorffer · 4 years

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fanfic authors tag game!

Tagged by @bethecowgirl, thank you!!! I’m always up for one of these

I tag @gobbluthlesbian || @gobbluthbisexual || @theonewherelaurynhasablog || @whythinktoomuch || @redvanjie || @catty-words || @h-influenzae || @dollsome-does-tumblr || @pega-and-the-pen || @halles-comet || anyone else who feels like doing it! I just tried to tag people I know have fics/are still writing fics

AO3 name: xlessxthanx3x

Fandoms: From oldest to most recent: 13 fics for Glee, 1 fic for Crazy Ex-Girlfriend, and 10 fics for Arrested Development

Number of fics: 24 on AO3

Fic you spent the most time on: Obviously When You're the Best of Friends (wytbof), since I started that in 2011…and I’ll probably never finish it.

Fic you spent the least time on: Honestly probably One of Gob’s Better Parties. It’s one of my shorter works and since I’d written so much smut before, particular in RPs, it wasn’t as hard as some of the past ones I had written. I think I got that done in a day or two. In terms of multichapter fics, I wrote Take On Me in about a month.

Longest fic: Étude No. 3 in G-sharp minor, S. 141 AKA piano fic 2 (13 chapters and still longer than wytbof that has like 30 chapters. It’s uh…321,472 words)

Shortest fic: Red Lace, a glee one-shot smut fic (1,359 words)

Most hits: Surprising no one, Take a Bite of My Heart Tonight, which is probably my best glee smut fic, with 7,472 hits (imagine how much more I’d get if it was k/laine lmao).

Most kudos: I wasn’t surprised by the previous answer because I get kudo email alerts for Take a Bite of My Heart Tonight fairly often.

Most comment threads: Wytbof, of course, ‘cause it’s so long and has been going on for so long. Very proud to say that first piano fic is right under it. I know being multichapter helps and I have no other glee multichapter on AO3, but I’m still proud lol

Fave fic you wrote: I’ll always say that some of my best writing EVER was in Étude Op. 25, No. 2 in F minor (first piano fic). I’m also so proud of Take On Me, it’s just so freaking cute.

Fic you want to rewrite/expand on: I can’t imagine rewriting anything, though I’m technically rewriting Take On Me as a novel. Lots of character changes, and not just the names, but like a lot of different dynamics between characters and stuff. Expanding, though…I have a full idea of a big overarching plot for the In the beginning, there were lips series. And, being high on my own ego, I have started work on yet another piano fic, but this time it’s covering Tony’s early life and fill in gaps that we didn’t see in the 2nd piano fic due to time jumps. Not sure how interested people would be in it, though, even if I reigned in my word count lmao. In a similar vein, I started work on something I was calling Take Me On, which is Take On Me from Tony’s POV. Not sure I’ll finish it since I haven’t touched the doc in September, but I open it up sometimes and think about it lol

Share a bit of your WIP or share a story idea that you’re planning: BLULANDER AKA Zoolander AD AU. it might just be the STUPIDEST thing I could ever do, but that just makes me want to do it even mORE. I just don’t want it to be a complete re-telling with a different endgame, I want to find ways to make it my own, so I’m conflicted. I’ve managed to find that balance with You're Standing on My Neck, which is loosely based off Daria, but that’s easier when you have multiple episodes you rewrite with much more complex characters than Zoolander lol.

But anyways Blulander. I shared part of it a while ago, but here’s some more of what I wrote that I never shared on here. Gob is Zoolander (weird shift lol) and Sally is Matilda (because I might as well keep one actor the same). This is from her interviewing him at the beginning of the movie

“How am I supposed to forget that you’re Sally Stickwell?” Gob asked with a grin. Sally clenched her jaw but said nothing in response to that. There was no need to try to get the idea of professionalism through his thick head.

Instead, she asked, “So, when did you know you wanted to be a model?” She was pretty sure he didn’t know until he was discovered back in high school, but she was sure he had a different answer these days. His mother was the one who managed his career, after all, and Lucille Bluth would certainly make sure there was a polished, proper response.

And Sally’s instincts were right. “I guess I’ve always known. I always knew that I’m, like, really, really, ridiculously good looking. And I was sure there had to be a career for that, you know?”

“A career out of being good looking?”

“Utterly good looking.”

“And you never wanted to be anything else?”

“Nope.”

That was a lie, a bald face one. Sally raised an eyebrow and wrote down the response, biting back the urge to bring up how false that story was.

Well, at first. But then she figured, hey, if they wanted to use her due to her history with the Bluth family, why should she hold back from asking the right questions?

“So, you never wanted to run the Bluth Company?”

“No.”

“You were always okay with your younger brother, Michael, taking over?” Sally asked. “Since he has just been named as the successor to the CEO position, right?”

A muscle in Gob’s jaw twitched and Sally bit back a smirk. It was cruel of her and she knew it. Really, Gob, as much of a jerk as he could be, was really more of a harmless idiot than anything else these days and he didn’t deserve to be reminded of how he hadn’t gotten the position he had coveted since childhood—even if he didn’t do anything to try to actually earn that position. But, whatever. Maybe she could find a way to make this piece something more than a generic interview.

“He has, yes,” Gob said, his voice a bit stiffer than usual. “I’m very happy for him. He’s been working on it his whole life.” He let one of the make-up artists brush a powder over his nose before commenting, “Of course, you’d assume the position would go to me as I’m the matriarch of the family—”

“Matriarch?”

“Yeah, the oldest,” Gob said simply. He laughed for a moment, “I figured you’d know what that word meant, Stickwell.”

“Yes, Gob, I actually know what that word means,” she said, being sure to make a note of that particular word use.

#long post #my fanfiction #tag games

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vrenaewrites · 5 years

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My Favorite Books Ever (2019).

In June 2018, I did a video about my all time favorite books. I included 13 books and only a couple were young adult, which is the genre I write in.

Boy how things change in a year. I’ve read probably 20 books since then which isn’t a lot compared to other people, but you’d be surprised how many of those were absolute knockouts for me, quickly moving into my hall of fame favorites. So let’s revisit my top 10 list.

10. TIE: TO KILL A MOCKINGBIRD by Harper Lee and MATILDA by Roald Dahl.

[previously #5 and #10, respectively]

These books have to be included on the basis of how much they meant to me as a child and young teen who was bookish, compassionate, and open-minded in my rural (read: often racist) southern community. Scout Finch and Matilda Wormwood were little girls I needed as a little girl, and while I may not reach for these “favorites” too often anymore, they’ll be some of the first books I share with my kids of reading age. They made me who I am.

9. THE MERCILESS by Danielle Vega Rollins.

[new addition]

Boy, oh, boy. If you didn’t catch the pop culture influences on my new WIP, you don’t even know what kind of impact this book had on me. If The Exorcist and Mean Girls had a baby written by Stephen King, this would be it. Sofia Flores is welcomed by the popular, virtuous girls at the expense of outcast Brooklyn, and the price for inclusion is higher than anyone could have known. This is a brutal, BRUTAL book. Full of intrigue, pulpy dirty laundry, and tons of gore, it’s not for the faint of heart. But it is right up my alley.

8. SHARP OBJECTS by Gillian Flynn.

[previously #8]

This book messed me up so bad I had to let my little sister borrow it so I had someone to talk about it with. It worked. Journalist Camille Preaker returns to her small Midwest town to investigate the disappearance of little girls, she has to reconnect with her toxic, dysfunctional family I’ve mentioned it before: a fucked up family and a strong sister dynamic - good or bad - are two of my favorite elements to read about. SHARP OBJECTS comes through with that in spades, along with questionable allies, mental illness in the protagonist, twist after twist, and the classic Gillian Flynn style of stylistic, highly personal writing.

7. THE EXORCIST by William Peter Blatty.

[previously #6]

I am totally and utterly obsessed with this story. I did see the movie before I read the book because I’m a horror movie junkie and I saw this movie at like, ten years old. Twelve year old Regan MacNeil makes an imaginary friend through a ouija board and things...get...weird from there. But of course, the story isn’t really about Regan. It’s about Father Karras, the titular exorcist who wrestles with the imaginary friend within Regan - the demon Pazuzu - and his own personal demons. The vulgar violence Regan is subjected to during her possession will burn into your brain forever, and the exploration of the relationship between god and man and devil feeds my dogmatic interests like few things really can.

6. THE HAUNTING OF HILL HOUSE by Shirley Jackson.

[previously #7]

I can’t overstate how much I love this book. From the queer coding of Theo and Nellie to the unsteady narration, Hill House has been ridiculously impactful on me since I read it almost two years ago. A parapsychologist invites people with paranormal experiences to spend time with him in the titular home, where he plans to prove the existence of paranormal activity. That’s right, this is the start of the ghost hunting trope, guys. Basically, these people get real fuckin’ haunted. As the sanity of each guest of Hill House is threatened and questioned, we as the reader start to wonder what the truth really is.

5. A HEAD FULL OF GHOSTS by Paul Tremblay.

[previously #4]

Paul Tremblay is a contemporary to Stephen King. I said what I said. The Barrett family is torn apart by the change in Marjorie, the oldest of their two daughters. As signs of acute schizophrenia become more prevalent, the father turns to religion and the mother turns to mental health professionals. As their resources deplete, they are forced to allow a reality tv show to document Marjorie’s affliction for the paycheck, where the reality and sanity of all involved comes unraveled. The narrators. The twists upon twists. The unrelenting tension as you become invested in finding out what is really wrong with Marjorie. It’s a book I wish I wrote.

4. THE FORBIDDEN GAME trilogy by LJ Smith.

[previously #3]

I just don’t know how to explain what this book did for me creatively. It’s 90s pulp horror and it made me realize that I kinda want to write 90s pulp horror...in 2019. It’s engaging, well written, interesting, unique, diverse, and quick. LJ Smith can do no wrong in my book.

3. HARRY POTTER AND THE PRISONER OF AZKABAN by JK Rowling.

[previously #2]

Do I have to get into this? The introduction of Remus Lupin, my literal father. The introduction of Sirius Black, my literal son. The introduction of not so annoying Hermione, literally me. The Draco punch. Buckbeak. Big baddies on the horizon. The first YA entry in the series. Chef’s kiss. Also the best film, I said what I said.

2. CARRIE by Stephen King.

[previously #1]

I know, I’m shook. Carrie has been dethroned. Don’t tell her though - we don’t want a prom repeat. Stephen King’s debut is ridiculously good - gritty, scary, brutal, sad, and believable despite being about a telekinetic teen who’s abused into massacring most of a town. Spoilers? The book is like 40 years old. Too bad.

HONORABLE MENTIONS:

Alice Hoffman’s PRACTICAL MAGIC [previously #9]

Grady Hendrix’s MY BEST FRIEND’S EXORCISM [new]

Dhonielle Clayton’s THE BELLES [new]

1. WE HAVE ALWAYS LIVED IN THE CASTLE by Shirley Jackson.

[new addition]

Oh my God, y’all. I read this book in one day while I was in upstate NY last month. I read it on a dock, on a lake, in 80 degree weather, and I had goosebumps by the end. Mary Katherine Blackwood and her sister Constance live alone in the Blackwood mansion, hated by the villagers, jeered at in the grocery store, and gossiped about - for good reason. Six years prior, their entire family was poisoned and the prime suspect, Constance, was acquitted to the disdain of the public. But when a long lost cousin hungry for the Blackwood fortune comes to visit, secret after secret is unearthed along with little Merricat’s various treasures of protection. Talk about twists. Jackson has a KNACK for the vicious town opinion - The Lottery, anyone? - and how it can ruin a family, a person, and how there can be no sole responsibility for mob mentality. I just cannot overstate how much I love this book.

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thisdiscontentedwinter · 5 years

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Stella and the Wolf - Chapter 1

Stiles Stilinski is trying to juggle homework, high school, stupid dumb crushes on unattainable people, and werewolves. Keeping the supernatural secret from his dad is hard enough, but when it comes to Stella, his eight-year-old sister, it turns out it’s impossible.

You can find the Tumblr Chapter Index here, or read here on AO3.

CHAPTER 1

“Dad!” Stella yells as she comes thumping down the stairs. “Stiles let a werewolf in the house!”

Stiles freezes for a second, his pop tarts burning his fingers as he grabs them from the toaster. Then his brain reminds him that this hurts, and he swears under his breath as he juggles them onto a plate, spinning around to see what their dad’s reaction is going to be.

“Did he?” Dad asks mildly as Stella storms into the kitchen. He doesn’t even look up from whatever message he’s reading on his phone. “No werewolves in the house, son.”

“Right,” Stiles says, and smirks at Stella. “No werewolves in the house.”

“It’s true!” Stella bellows. “Dad! It’s true!”

Stella’s eight. She has a vivid imagination, and she can stick to a lie for weeks. Dad probably thinks this is just like the time that she claimed she ate twelve donuts in one sitting, or that Mrs. Sanders from across the road is really a bank robber, or that she punched a zombie so hard that its head fell off.

Stella Stilinski is a lying liar who lies.

Stiles makes a face at her, his heart thumping wildly, and escapes with his pop tarts to the living room.

“You’re not eating pop tarts for dinner, are you?” Dad calls after him.

“Of course not!” Stiles yells back.

Stiles Stilinski is also a lying liar who lies.

It runs in the family.

***

Dad has been on night shift this week, so Stiles has to get Stella to bed. They used to have a sitter, Mrs. Levinson, but she moved to Florida a few weeks ago, and even before that her knees weren’t great, so Stiles usually ended up taking Stella upstairs and putting her to bed anyway to save her the trip. When Mrs. Levinson retired, Dad made noise about hiring someone else, but Stiles is sixteen now, and it’s not like he’s incapable of looking after his sister at night, right? Also, this way Dad could up his allowance.

Except werewolves. Werewolves are a thing that happened. And werewolves and all their related supernatural fuckery do not respect the fact that Stiles can’t just go gallivanting around town at night anymore. Not that he should have been doing any nocturnal gallivanting in the first place, but, well. Stiles and impulse control have never been in a working relationship. When Mrs. Levinson was snoozing in front of the TV downstairs it was easy for Stiles to climb out his window and escape—hence the night he dragged Scott into the woods and Scott got bitten in the first place—but now? He can’t leave an eight-year-old kid alone in the house, and if he tells Dad that maybe they should look at getting another sitter after all, Dad’s going to want to know why. And Stiles doesn’t have an answer for that. At all.

So he stays in, and he locks the doors, and werewolves still happen.

Persistently.

Werewolves do not respect locked doors.

At least, Derek Hale doesn’t. He just uses a window instead.

Which is how he turned up last night, bleeding from somewhere underneath his ridiculously tight shirt, making vague threats about Scott having to stay away from the Argents—ha! As if Stiles or any power in the universe can stop him!—and generally growling and flashing his eyes and his fangs. And then, in the middle of bleeding all over Stiles’s floor, he’d suddenly stopped, winced as he’d straightened up, and said: “Who’s that?”

And Stiles had turned around to find Stella standing in his bedroom doorway in her My Little Pony pajamas, a teddy bear shoved under her arm, and a very suspicious look on her very suspicious little face.

“Oh, shit,” Stiles had said.

“I’m Stella,” Stella had announced. “Are you a werewolf?”

Derek had looked at Stiles.

Stiles had looked at Derek.

“Oh, shit,” Stiles had said again.

“You said a bad word,” Stella had informed him. “Twice!”

So werewolves are a thing, which Stiles has known for weeks, but now Stella also knows. Sometimes Stiles thinks his life can’t get any messier, and sometimes the universe laughs in his face and tells him to hold its beer and watch this.

Stiles finishes his pop tarts while sitting on the couch with his feet on the coffee table. He can still hear Stella thumping around upstairs, probably still pissed because Dad didn’t believe her. For an eight-year-old, she can hold a grudge.

That’s probably genetic too.

Stiles grabs the remote control and channel surfs for a while. He looks up when Dad appears.

“I’m off,” Dad says. “Try to get to bed before midnight, huh?”

“Oh, totally,” Stiles lies. “Have a good shift, Dad.”

Dad shows him a tired smile. “Stella? I’m going to work!”

Stella comes thumping down the stairs again, flings herself into Dad’s arms for a hug, and then, when Dad leaves, sits down on the couch beside Stiles and glares at him.

“Go and have a shower,” he tells her. “It’s almost your bedtime.”

“You’re not the boss of me,” she grumbles, and then sighs, and her little body slumps into the couch cushions. “Will you come and read me a story?”

She’s still holding that grudge, Stiles knows, but story time is sacrosanct.

“Of course,” he tells her, like he’s dying to find out what happens in the next chapter of Matilda and isn’t just humouring her.

Although, who is he kidding? He actually is dying to find out what happens next. Matilda is awesome.

Stella grins at him, and goes upstairs to shower.

***

There’s a framed photograph in Stella’s bedroom. Dad took the picture. It’s Mom, with Stiles sitting on one side of her, and baby Stella—weird and new and squishy-faced—in her arms. It used to sit on the desk in Dad’s office, but he put it in Stella’s room after Mom died. On the frame, in beautiful cursive lettering it says, ‘Claudia, Agnieszka & Mieczysław’. By the time he was eight, Stiles was already calling himself Stiles. By the time Stella arrived, he was already calling her Stella, because Mom and Dad told him as soon as they found out that he was getting a little sister, and he wanted her to have a name that sounded like his.

Their nicknames both kind of stuck.

His Mom used to call him Mischief.

He wonders what she would have called Stella, but by the time Stella was already a few months old, some days Mom didn’t even remember she had a new baby.

She went downhill very fast, from diagnosis to death within the year.

Sometimes Stiles worries that there’s a time bomb inside his skull, and inside Stella’s. He sometimes worries that when he forgets something simple, or stumbles over a word, that it’s happening, that it’s already too late.

He looks away from the photograph, his throat aching, as Stella bounces into the room. She’s wearing Stiles’s old stud muffin t-shirt, which she’s stolen and claimed as pajamas even though it still fits Stiles, thanks very much, and a towel bundled around her wet hair.

Stiles sighs and picks up the comb from her dresser. If it were up to Stella she’d go to sleep with it like that, and wake up in the morning with a cross between a rat’s nest and a beehive. Stiles has learned this from bitter experience.

He sits down on Stella’s bed, shifting back so she can plant herself in front of him, and starts the work of getting the tangles out.

“Stiles?” she asks after a while. “Are werewolves a secret?”

Stiles’s stomach clenches. “Yeah. A big secret.”

“Dad says secrets are bad,” Stella reminds him. “That if grownups ask you to keep secrets, it’s not right, and you’re supposed to tell Dad or Mrs. McCall or a teacher.”

Stiles exhales. Yeah, Dad is the sheriff. He knows all about the secrets some adults ask kids to keep. Secrets are bad. Surprises—like Stiles’s thirteenth birthday party—are okay. Stella hadn’t known that at the time, and tearfully spilled the beans at breakfast the week beforehand. In the Stilinski household there is now a firm line drawn between secrets and surprises.

“That’s true,” he says.

“You’re almost a grownup,” she says, twisting around to face him. “And you want me to keep a secret.”

Sometimes Stiles wonders if she even knows how much she can punch him in the gut with just a look.

“Most grownups don’t know about werewolves,” Stiles says, working the comb carefully through her hair. “It would be very dangerous for werewolves if they found out. People might try to hurt them.”

People already have. The Hales are a testament to that.

Stella makes a small noise. “Is that why that boy was bleeding?”

“Yeah.” Stiles thinks of Derek’s bloodstained shirt, pulled tight across his abdomen, the tears in the fabric revealing an expanse of already-healed skin. A part of him also registers some amusement at hearing anyone refer to Derek Hale as a boy, instead of the chiselled-from-marble specimen of manhood that he is. But the less said about that, and the uncomfortable levels of arousal he feels whenever Derek is in his vicinity, the better. “There are people who hurt werewolves. Hunters. So that’s why we keep them a secret.”

“Oh.” Stella is silent for a moment. “Like how if you know who a superhero is, you can’t tell anyone.”

“Right.”

“Superheroes aren’t supposed to be real either,” she points out. “Is Batman real?”

“I’m pretty sure Batman’s not real.”

“That makes sense,” Stella decides. “If he was real and trying to be a secret, anyone who reads the comics would know he’s Bruce Wayne.”

“That is a good point.”

Stella tilts her head. “I won’t tell anyone about werewolves then.”

“Good. That’s good. It’s really important that nobody finds out.” Stiles pauses for a moment, and hooks an arm around her for a quick hug. Then he finishes combing through her hair, and plaits it into a loose braid. Stella holds up her hand and he tugs the hair elastic off her wrist to finish up. “There. All done. Did you brush your teeth?”

“Yep!”

Stiles pushes her away gently and stands up so that she can climb under her comforter. “Are we reading more Matilda tonight?”

Her dark eyes light up, so Stiles picks up the book from her nightstand and settles in to read.

***

Stella’s bedtime is eight, so once she’s in bed Stiles heads downstairs to grab a snack. Then, a can of Pringles wedged under his arm, he goes back upstairs to his room to work on his homework. Homework and babysitting. That’s his life. And to think Stiles had started this year with a plan to become popular! The allowance his dad pays him puts gas in his Jeep, which is great, but also, now he has nowhere to go. He likes to think that if he didn’t have to spend so much time looking after Stella that he’d have a bunch of awesome parties to go to, but who is he kidding? He’s not that popular, and nobody wants to invite the Sheriff’s kid to the fun parties anyway.

Homework and babysitting and werewolves.

Jesus. His eight-year-old sister knows about werewolves, and Stiles has no idea what the hell he’s supposed to do about that.

He falls asleep in front of his laptop and his half-finished English paper.

#my fics #sterek #discontentedwinter #Stella and the Wolf

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the-cookie-of-doom · 5 years

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There’s this trend I’ve noticed recently, where women are ridiculing men for being afraid and unwilling to be affectionate with their friends because they don’t want to be seen as gay. And ladies? We need to stop.

It sounds ridiculous, right? “We can be physically affectionate with each other without having to be violent, why can you just figure out how to hug?”

“Stop being weird about it, hugging your friends doesn’t make you gay.”

“Get over yourselves, we have real issues to talk about”

”No one cares that you don’t want to be called ‘gay’ because ‘gay’ isn’t an insult!”

These are all things that I’ve heard and read in regard to men getting the courage to step up and speak out about something that is deeply affecting the potential of many platonic male relationships. And yeah on the surface, maybe it doesn’t sound bad to tell someone that they shouldn’t be offended if they’re perceived as ‘gay’, because there is nothing inherently wrong with that. That’s true, but that’s also not the core of the problem, here. Assuming attraction to men isn’t the issue, it’s assuming attraction at all.

Ladies, how many of you remember that boy you knew when you were a kid. You’ve probably grown apart by now for some reason or another - or maybe you haven’t. Do you remember both of your mothers laughing to each other about how cute the two of you are? “Oh look, Zack’s first girlfriend!” “Aubrey’s got herself a little boyfriend!” “Aaron and Matilda are going to make such a cute couple when they get married!” “I can’t wait to see what their babies look like!”

Do you remember watching your father “jokingly” give a little boy the shovel talk if he dared break your heart, and laughing that he’d probably do it anyway? Do you remember being a little girl who just wanted to play with her friend who happened to be a boy, and not understanding why all your girlfriends were allowed to come to the sleep over, bot not your boyfriend? Do you remember when you came home from school, excited to tell your parents about your boyfriend, your boy-that-is-a-friend, and not knowing why they laughed and teased and cooed over how cute you were? Do you remember the first time you realized that everyone understood what you meant when you said ‘girlfriend’, and it didn’t make sense why ‘boyfriend’ would be any different?

When I was seven, I knew a boy named Alex. Also seven, of course. I was an American transplant living in Germany, I had just moved there, and making friends was hard. So for a long time, it was just me and Alex. Back home in California, I used to have sleepovers all the time. I asked if Alex could sleep over so we could play Dungeon’s & Dragons - our own much less complicated and much more convoluted version of it. And our parents said no. Because you can’t let little girls and boys sleep over, not even when they’re seven years old and don’t understand the knowing looks their parents are trading.

I’ve never once met a girl that didn’t have countless experiences like mine. I don’t even know how many I’ve had; Alex, Brody, James, Jason, Tyler, Taylor. So many more. I’m not friends with any of them anymore, I haven’t been for years, because girls aren’t allowed to be ‘friends’ with boys.

And now that same thing is happening with an all new, bitter flavor. I remember how queasy it made me feel when adults always joked about me ‘dating’ my boy-friends - years before I even knew what romantic interest felt like. I didn’t understand why we couldn’t just be friends. Why couldn’t our parents see that we don’t want to do those gross kissy-face-things, we just wanted to hunt around for frogs and fireflies at night?

Now, guys can’t feel comfortable expressing affection for each other, because in this new age of acceptance, we will point to them as an example of love, and say “Isn’t that sweet?” “They look so good together.” “#RelationshipGoals.” How are we any different than our parents?

We’re not.

It’s the same old idea, even if we’ve stuck a new label on it and made it our own. We tell boys to be soft, to love their friends gently, to stop performing toxic masculinity that says you can only ever touch to hurt. And then we punish them for it. When they ask us to stop, we punish them for that too, and we are no better than our parents when they wouldn’t listen to us.

We want kind men that will support their friends like Frodo and Sam, like Bilbo and Thorin. Who aren’t afraid to feel, to show their emotions, to cry and talk about why. Who don’t have to hide their true feelings from their friends because what if a touch or a compliment is interpreted the wrong way.

Well then why don’t we start by letting them be friends. Just like we always wanted for ourselves.

#feminism #toxic masculinity #let boys be soft #let boys be friends #I have to watch my little brother going through this right now #he and his friend were really close #until another boy in the neighborhood started constantly calling them gay for it #it destroyed their friendship #my brother isn't the same sweet emotional kid he used to be #and it's horrible to watch as a big sister #boys and men deserve better than this #relationships are great #but romance isn't everything #and not everything has to be interpreted as romance #it's unfair that women should be free to be as physical with their friends as they want and never have their friendship questioned #but men can't so much as brush hands without having to proclaim how straight we are #and I know we've made it into a joke and laugh about no homo #but think about how sad it really is #imagine not being able to hug your girlfriend without making excuses and laughing it off to make sure she knows not to take it the wrong way #and being afraid that someone else will anyway

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thelowlysatsuma · 5 years

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Ramble in whatever form you choose. I won’t be able to be active all the time so if you want to be able to do it whenever you want I’d say text posts but I’ll also try to occasionally ask you about them so there’s some variety

!!! okay! well i think i’ll choose a couple from the list that i haven’t made many posts about before (aka no ts or go) and ramble on here!

oof under the cut bc idk how long this will get

steven universe

oh hon don’t even get me STARTED on su like that shit? that shit is so good? okay first of all i love the cast so much? gosh they’re just all so sweet and cool and sometimes they collab w/ thomas sanders and i love rebecca sugar and im gonna cry they’re so sweet im so soft

okay SECONDLY the show itself oof

okay okay im just? god im so soft?? like the music is so good, i can (and do) watch it w/ my parents, GOD do i wanna cosplay pearl’s new outfit (and rainbow 2.0, if i can pull it off), im in love with the concept and all the fusions and the story and the worldbuilding and god, this made me realize my utter love and adoration of COLOURS like they’re so PRETTY im in LOVE oh my gOD and just

god it has such a good message and such a good plot and such good characters i wanna be steven’s friend i wanna be all of their friends oh man i just can’t wait until my baby cousins are old enough for me to show this to them because i’m going to enjoy that experience so much

ducktales

oh jfc where the fuck do i even start with ducktales okay david tennant as scrooge mcduck makes my fucking life literally he’sthe best goddamn charaacter in the show – well, best besides the triplets (my BOYS), webby (!!! my KID), f e n t o n (god i love that nerd), mark beaks (what an asshole), mrs beakley (i wanna be her when i grow up), launchpad (!!! he!!), and so many others??? this is like serious every character in the show erasure but hot damn duck tales says gay rights and it does so in style (oh yeah also i love lena della donald oh webby’s new friend whose name i forget uhhh herules oh the inventor guy fenton’s boss that dipshit love him uhhh gandra dee who’s voiced by jameela jamil if im not mistaken??????) and yeah it’s a hilarious show but it’s also just a really good one for me to watch whenever i start to like. feel empty inside?? but then like i’ll put on ducktales and i’ll feel better

gravity falls

this show. this show RUINED ME. i started watching it like four years late (aka last year lmao) but GOD, im so in love with it. def another one i wanna show my cousins.

like?? just??? the ciphers and mysteries appeal so much to me and my love of mystery and crime novels, the characters are all amazing, alex hirsch himself is just such a g?? and like. it’s so good. it hurts me so much but then it’s all okay in the end and it’s just. it’s so good.

yeah i sobbed my eyes out when i watched that series finale.

camp camp, which somehow i forgot on my other list

god, is this show hilarious. like, fuck is it funny. it’s so good. it’s so fucking good. i was a little shocked when i saw the first episode but i’m so into it now, and i’m so attatched to all the characters bc they’re just dumbasses trying their best (or worst, in a few cases) and i love them for it. that’s peak fool energy right there and it speaks to me

orphan black

okay okay okay veering now into a much darker type of television, orphan black is??? phenominal???

okay so my best friend @fuck-me-gently-with-a-slurpee got me into it when i was like 14 or 15 i think and i honestly cannot thank her enough because this show is incredible. the plot’s super engaging, i literally cannot say anything about it without giving away spoilers, and the main character has quite possibly the best actor i’ve ever seen playing her

like. you think thomas sanders is good? he ain’t got SHIT on tatianna maslany

mythbusters

you guys. you guys. mythbusters was my childhood. like seriously, i watched that show religiously.

it’s what first got me into science, and it’s what kept me interested in explosions. it’s light and funny and ridiculous and scientifically accurate in the dumbest ways possible. i swear to god the main cast nearly dies once an episode

these guys are my idols. like, i seriously cannot overstate how much i love the mythbusters. adam and jamie, tori, kari, and grant.

when i was a kid, i wanted to be a mythbuster when i grew up, and god damnit, i still do. they mean that much to me

bill nye

fun fact! i actually had no fuckin clue who bill nye was until seventh grade, when i had to watch an episode of his show for homework because i missed a day of class. it was the episode on static electricity, and i remember sitting at my dining room table in the dim winter afternoon light, squinting at my computer, and thinking “what the FUCK am i WATCHING?”

needless to say, i’ve seen more since then, but that initial what the fuckery is still present and i love it.

not only is bill nye the science guy a flippin fantstic show, but bill nye himself? the coolest guy alive. god, i love him. what a g.

various comedians including but not limited to john mulaney,john oliver, and hasan minhaj

okay, as a gay, i am legally required to love john mulaney, but seriously that guy is so. fuckin. funny that i can’t help myself. his timing is priceless, the way he moves onstage is hysterical, just. god i love his stuff.

literally his comedic timing and style is half the reason people find me funny. i just phrase my sentences the way he would because, you know, i’m good at stealing things, and people laugh, and i go “hey. that actually worked”. and then i keep doing it

next, john oliver. okay, so while i don’t watch his show religiously, i do watch it when my parents do every now and again, and fuck is his stuff funny. like. just. shit.

finally, hasan minhaj’s patriot act is just. one of my favourite current events comedy shows out there. it’s in a similar vein to john oliver’s stuff, just more international, and shit, is he good at what he does. i lvoe it.

hoodwinked the movie (i am dead serious)

okay, while i haven’t seen it in over four years, this is still my favourite movie of all time. it also has one of my favourite villain songs of all times, and some of the best character exchanges just. ever. especially with wolf and twitchy

...god, i love twitchy. also the goat. i’m probably gonna be the goat when i grow up, let’s be honest

one day at a time

i just.

there’s so much to say about odaat. like. it’s so funny. it makes me nearly cry every episode (and makes my mother actually cry every episode). the characters, god, the characters

like. alex is such a cute dumb kid (who’s smarter than he looks), penelope is so salty constantly and i love her but she’s genuinely so cool and such a good mom and i cry??? elena is so amazing like god she’s such a fuckin nerd but she’s also so salty (takes after her mom) and is literally the best????

and then there’s abuelita, whom i adore. like, god, rita moreno is SO cool and SUCH a great actress and has SUCH an amazing sense of comedic timing and GOD, i LOVE HER

can’t forget about syd and doc berkowitz, which like. okay first off the good doc. just. god i love the doc. he’s so sweet and such a genuinely good dude and he’s a bit of a coward at heart but that’s okay because he genuinely cares and does his best and god he’s just such an amazing character im !!!!! and then syd is such a dork and i love them and elena and god, it made me so happy to see not only an actual enby character on a big sitcom, but also just?? like??? it’s not forced but it’s still there??? like there’s one episode where one of the plots is just syd and elena trying to figure out what elena should call them, since neither of them are comfy using “girlfriend” for syd since they’re not a girl, and they finally agree on “significant other” and schneider imMEDIATELY says “dont you mean, SYDnificant other?” and then they use that for the REST OF THE SHOW IT”S SO CUTE OKAY

and finally, schneider. he might be my favourite character in the entire show (which is a damn hard list to pick from!!!), but he’s just. he’s so sweet, he and penelope have one of the absolute best male/female friendships i’ve ever seen (which! never! turns! romantic! ever!!!), he’s actually got surprising depths but he’s also like such a nice goofball that when they get revealed, it hurts, and he’s just this canadian dumbass (heyyyyy repreSENT) with the worst goddamn canadian accent sometimes and he’s a hipster and The Dumb Friend and the weird uncle all rolled into one and GOD, i love him so much

the good place and brooklyn 99

okay, i love these two both so, so much, but i’m lumping them together because a) they’re both mike schur shows with a similar sense of humour, that say gay rights, and with characters who’d definitely love each other if they met and b) my hand is getting tired from all this typing but i still have so much love to go around!!!!

okay so so SO! they’re both so good. they’re so fucking funny and amazing and i was immediately hooked on both of their pilots. their characters are all so genuine and flawed and fucking hysterical to watch, and the ships and friendships are all so amazing and pure and good and soft and they have their problems and they WORK THEM OUT HEALTHILY AND IT MAKES ME SO HAPPY OKAY!!!

god, i literally cannot overstate how much i adore these two shows. mike schur, you’re a wonderful, wonderful dude. thank you so much

many musicals (top faves include BOM, hamilton, legally blonde, chicago, matilda, and more!)

i’m putting the musicals together because while i do adore each and every one of them individually, i also just have great big deep-seated love of the art of musical theatre itself in general, ya feel?

like, as someone who’s been both performing and viewing them from a very young age, the sheer sense of utter joy they bring is almost unparalleled

not to be That Bitch who quotes musicals, but “and that hop in our hearts as the overture starts lets us know how lucky we are” might be the closest i’ve ever gotten to finding words to fit the feeling when the lights go down and the show begins. it’s simply phenomenal

the others series by anne bishop

okay, OKAY, if you haven’t read this series (first book called written in red – they have terrible titles but god, they’re worth it), then what are you doing with your life? like, not only is there the perfect logicality au to them (just sayin’), but god, it’s such an incredible series

the worldbbuilding is so cool and the characters are all great and god the ships are the damn hill i die on it’s got literally such a good “sort of enemies mostly just dislike each other to reluctant acquaintances to friends to lovers” ship and it deals with some serious issues rlly well and it’s got baby puppies!!!

like, they’re wolf puppies, but still, they are b a b e y

and finally (for now, at least), the mysterious benedict society, by trenton lee stewart

this book series was my childhood. i mean, there are so many other books i could be talking about right now that i utterly adore (the artemis fowl series springs to mind), but gosh, MBS just brings me such absolute joy to read that i just had to have it on here.

i’m not thinking straight at this point in the evening, but i just wanna say that i will never, not ever forget about reynie. about kate. about sticky. about constance. about rhonda and number two and milligan and miss perumal and my absolute son sq pedalian and, of course, i will never, never forget about mr benedict

it’s bright, and it’s bittersweet, and it’s beautiful.

and it’s good. simply, utterly, wonderfully good.

thank you for the ask, anon.

thank you.

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an-aspiring-jester · 5 years

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My take on Uncle Scrooge and his relationship with his family based on „Life and Times of Scrooge McDuck”

Okay, so this is going to be really long and unnecessary rant about things that were probably said thousand times before, but I just needed to organize my thoughts so might as well do it here :)

First of all, I agree that Don Rosa’s Scrooge is… not a good uncle. Far from it. He is mean to his nephews, exploits them mercilessly, is selfish, petty, stubborn and occasionally manipulative, but… he has a reason to be. His behavior is not justified, but it’s understandable. He just needs a little more time, patience and support from his family (which he gets now) to overcome this attitude and change.

Let’s start at the beginning: His Number 1 Dime. We all know that Fergus did this with his best intentions in mind, so Scroogie learns to rely on himself, values hard work etc., etc.… BUT: remember he is still just a 10 years old boy! And, I get that they were poor, he had to help support his parents and DIDN’T MIND DOING IT, loved it, in fact, but… when he became a little obsessed with making money, working non-stop, NOONE really stopped him to tell that maybe it’s not entirely healthy and it’s okay to take a break once in a while. They benefited from the situation… Additionally, he didn’t know about his father’s little “scheme” (maybe for the better) so his most prized possession remains a reminder of the time he was cheated for his labor as a kid. Not really helping with a positive view on the world. And don’t even mention the pressure of being the Last of the Clan McDuck and all the expectations to make a name for himself and save the ancestral castle… No wonder he became a workaholic at such a young age! XD Again: Fergus loved his son with all his heart and wanted what’s best for him, he just… didn’t think of all the side-effects.

Then we have his Uncle Angus. A guy who exploited his nephew, tricked him, put him in danger multiple times, valued his potential treasure more than their LIFES, and not only didn’t really acknowledged Scrooge saving the day, but downright stole the glory for himself and portrayed him as a useless dummy in his novels. And STILL counted on him to clean up after his mistakes. (The Vigilante of Pizen Bluff) Sounds familiar? Why would Scrooge treat his nephews differently if HE turned out okay? (I even dare to say he treats them slightly better than Pothole did) What’s more – when Scrooge was on the receiving side of this dynamic – HE NEVER EVEN COMPLAINED! Just treated it as something normal, admirable even! He really DOESN’T see why Donald or the boys would have a problem with that.

Scrooge spent most of his life alone. During that time he learned the hard way that people are going to judge him based on what he owns, people he considered friends are bound to turn his enemies once he gets richer than them, some of them won’t hesitate to kill him for profit *cough*Glomgold*cough*. The first time his family managed to contact him was when they needed cash for castle taxes. He drops everything and rushes to the rescue – yet the only reason his ancestors decide he’s worthy enough to continue living is that he’s going to become “the cheapest tightwad on Earth” (to Scrooge’s shock). You can see how optimistic and open-hearted Scrooge gets progressively colder and harsher (the way he acts after rescuing Glomgold versus Jaburi Kapirigi? Entirely different.). And at that point he STILL worries about his family and their well-being, even though his situation is probably much worse than theirs. He never got a letter from home. He’s been captured and ridiculed mercilessly - on account of his mother’s DEATH for crying out loud! Maybe that’s why he’s so unwilling to show any kind of care or affection? Because if you do - someone might as well use that sentiment to hurt you. The love of his life only wanted to rob and cheat him (his perspective) - no wonder he’s got trust issues. The only way to survive in this cruel world is to be just as ruthless as it is.

And when he comes back home? (Again - Scrooge doesn’t abandon his family once he gets rich. He still wants to go back home, to be with them and run his business from Scotland. When he realizes he doesn’t belong there anymore – he asks them ALL to move out with him. And when Fergus disagrees, he WANTS to reconsider this, it’s Fergus who cuts him off and order him to take his sisters away, without giving a chance to argue.) He got rotten tomatoes thrown at him JUST BECAUSE he’s rich now (at least that’s how Rosa portrayed that scene). And his father is disappointed when he (albeit harshly) defends himself! How unfair is that?

His sisters focus on how grand he LOOKS (our brother – billionaire), one of the first things they ask him about is what he BROUGHT them, when they realize he carries cash around (for him – his most important keepsakes!) they just call him loon, without considering his point of view. They’re tired of his stinginess and complain when he makes them do the hard work - but it’s not like he’s slacking off at the time! It’s more of a “Welcome to my world” sort of thing. And again – I ADORE Hortense and Matilda, they clearly love their brother and are just excited to see him back – but fail to understand how he changed. And do very little to help him adapt. Teasing him about his paranoia does not. If anything, it just makes him feel like they don’t treat him seriously and don’t appreciate his accomplishments. Maybe that’s why he tries so hard to impress them. He starts taking shortcuts, challenges his principals. Yeah, he’s frustrated with world and how it treats him. He wants to take an easy road for once. He ignores his sisters begging, refuses to listen to reason. That’s his fatal mistake and his lowest point. But what he says while watching the destruction of Foola Zoola’s village? “Nobody humiliates a McDuck in front of his kin!”. He cares about what they think of him, but his priorities are messed up. When he comes back to the tent he starts with: “That’s more wealth for you two to INHERIT someday, so you can stop pretending to be outraged.” He honestly BELIVES that. If almost everyone he crossed paths with was only interested in his money – why should his FAMILY be any different?! (Later he thought that Donald agreed to meet him at Christmas dinner only to “see how rich he’ll be when Scrooge’s gone”. And I THINK that part of the reason that in Rosa’s comics (unlike Barks’) we only ever see them hanging out in the Bin or on an adventure is that Scrooge may STILL think that they only agree to spend time with him when he pays them. What other reason they would have to put up with him? That’s just depressing, when you think about it.) That’s the twisted way he sees the world nowadays. And even then he managed to realize that burning the village WAS a mistake and attempts to fix it! Sure, he delays their reconciliation more and more – still convincing himself that “my sisters will forgive my delay when they see this.” It’s sad how delusional he got.

And on to the big fight – at that point, Scrooge is a changed man. And Hortense’s yelling doesn’t do any good. (Again – they have every right to BE outraged, it’s just… not the best way to actually SOLVE anything.) They say he won’t ever see them again – and honestly, WHAT KIND OF A THREAT IS THAT TO HIM?!! He ALREADY spend 50 years of his life WITHOUT THEM! Without anyone! For HIM – it doesn’t make any difference! From his perspective – his family really IS “nothing but trouble.” Ungrateful freeloaders, holding him back. (Side note: in Letter from Home it was A LITTLE unfair for Matilda to accuse him of not “being around” with them at the castle – when at the time he was earning money so they could KEEP the castle. A bit of hypocrisy, in my opinion. And Scrooge didn’t even defend himself, thinking he deserves it.)

Scrooge spent his entire adulthood with no one to rely on, besides himself. Almost every time he trusted someone he ended up backstabbed one way or another. He doesn’t NEED anyone, he survived on his own this long, he can continue to do so. Yet when his sisters abandoned him for good – “no joy remained.” He CARED about them, even if he wouldn’t admit it. He still wanted to have them around. He got so depressed, he retired and was ready to spend the rest of his days in a lonely mansion, basically waiting for death. Until he finally decides to reach out for his only nephew…

Basically what I’m trying to say here is: Scrooge McDuck loves his family wholeheartedly. He ALWAYS did. They always had been his priority. He just has NO IDEA what SHOWING love is supposed to look like! And you can’t really blame him. Let’s just hope that Donald and the rest of the gang can teach him that eventually.

#I'd be surprised if anyone reads that #just give this lonely troubled man a hug #long rant #It would be longer with pictures #my interpretation #Life and Times of Scrooge McDuck #scrooge mcduck #Uncle Scrooge #Don Rosa #Duckverse #ducktales #Duck Family #mine

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