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cowboahs · 2 years

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quotes that broke me starters

feel free to adjust pronouns / names as needed !

quotes taken from random sources or tiktok. i claim no ownership whatsoever.

❛ i’m supposed to be the one who protects you from monsters. i’m not supposed to be one. ❜

❛ if i could make a deal with god, and i’d get him to swap our places. ❜

❛ no one heard our screams for a long time. ❜

❛ i know so many last words. but i’ll never know hers. ❜

❛ there is a home for every departed thing. ❜

❛ it reminded me that i will never truly know you. ❜

❛ i also buried a part of myself alongside them. ❜

❛ after you died i could no longer hold a funeral. so my life became the funeral. ❜

❛ you don’t have to be awake to cry. ❜

❛ forgive me, for all the things i did. but mostly the things i didn’t do. ❜

❛ the human eye is the loneliest creation of all. ❜

❛ fairness is for happy people. ❜

❛ the things we lost will always be heavier than the things that stayed. ❜

❛ perhaps it is the greater grief, to remain on the earth when another is gone. ❜

❛ you stain the pages with yourself. ❜

❛ tears will not wash away the sorrow. ❜

❛ beautiful things grow a certain height and then they fall and fade off. ❜

❛ who in all these centuries has had the common humanity to pray for the one sinner that needed it most? ❜

❛ i have scars on my hands from touching certain people ❜

❛ despite everything, i believe that people are really good at heart. ❜

❛ you tried to change, didn't you? ❜

❛ you can’t make homes out of people. someone should have taught you that. ❜

❛ i hid my deepest feelings so well, i forgot where i placed them. ❜

❛ we have no scar to show for happiness. we learn so little from peace. ❜

❛ i didn't leave because i stopped loving you. i left because the longer i stayed, the less i loved myself. ❜

❛ at every moment in our life, we have one foot in a fairytale & the other in the abyss. ❜

❛ there are too many sad eyes on happy faces. ❜

❛ it's strange, i felt less lonely when i didn't know you. ❜

❛ things change, friends leave. life doesn't stop for anybody. ❜

❛ it takes a lifetime to die, and no time at all. ❜

❛ i am deathly afraid of almosts. of coming close to what i want and then falling just a little short. ❜

❛ i felt your absence. ❜

❛ what do we do now, now that we are happy? ❜

❛ you honestly thought anybody would love you? purely and truly love you? ❜

❛ don't stop looking. he deserves to know someone saw his end, that someone noticed him. ❜

❛ i can bear my pain so long as it has meaning. ❜

❛ i dont have a single friend - not one. ❜

❛ i've had more than enough pain in my life, what's a little more going to do? ❜

❛ it would have been you if i met you first. ❜

❛ i really thought he was going to be my forever. ❜

❛ maybe in the next life it would work. ❜

❛ in spite of everything, you're still you. ❜

❛ the dead have it easy. ❜

❛ there's an ocean of silence between us, and I'm drowning. ❜

❛ there have been countless times in my life when i thought i’d be better off dead. ❜

❛ what on earth... have i become? ❜

❛ don’t look at me! i don’t ... i don’t want you seeing me like this. ❜

❛ i wish i could’ve been like you. ❜

❛ your fate was sweeping you away, like a flood. ❜

❛ the future should know the mistakes we made. ❜

❛ of course you have. you feel guilt. you want redemption. ❜

❛ i'm here because you can't accept what you've done. it broke you. ❜

❛ even now, after all you've done, you can still go home. lucky you . ❜

❛ you're all that's left, and we can't live this lie forever. ❜

❛ prometheus gave us light, and warmth, and eternal damnation. ❜

❛ take a gamble that love exists, and do a loving act. ❜

❛ i know i ruined your life. i suffer for it every day. ❜

❛ don't let yourself get killed for... for pride. i’ve seen it kill too many folk. ❜

❛ you and me, we ain't decent... but those folk... they were. ❜

❛ we're more ghosts than people. ❜

❛ despite my best efforts to the contrary... it turns out i've won. ❜

❛ i gave you all i had ... i did. ❜

❛ this whole time, I've blamed myself for that decision. ❜

❛ do you think even the worst person can change...? That everybody can be a good person, if they just try? ❜

❛ i don't want to break their hearts all over again. it's better if they never see me. ❜

❛ please leave me alone. i can't come back. i just ... can't, okay? ❜

❛ no matter the struggles or hardships you faced... you strived to do the right thing, you refused to hurt anyone. ❜

❛ people like you don't ever want to be happy. ❜

❛ i don’t want to let go. i’m not ready to say goodbye yet. ❜

#rp meme #sentence starters #rp sentence starters #angst meme #angst rp meme #angst starters #angst sentence starters #honestly the undertale ones still hit hard even after only one play of the game when it came out #MISS ME with the resetting everything and taking peoples happy ending away from them

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pennyserenade · 6 months

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The Hollywood Hedonist Method

pairing: dieter bravo x you, dieter bravo x reader rating: explicit (oral sex (female receiving), pinv, unprotected sex, light dirty talk (a little degrading), sex in public place (?), soft dom!reader, soft dom!dieter tags: references to drugs, talk of suicide (not serious), a self pitying dieter bravo word count: 2.9k+ summary: dieter's movie is bad and he looks to you for a quick fix to a long problem. a/n: is this the most inspired piece i ever wrote? probably not but i did have a lot of fun writing it. i wouldn't say this is my usual writing style, but i'm trying something new on here and i hope you like it. if you'd like to be updated on when i post my writing, follow my writing updates blog @belovedinfidels

He fingers you on the black marble countertop, his mess of crushed ambitions transformed suddenly into a hardy joie de vivre as you accept his tongue into your mouth. Salacious stories be damned: this is better than any page six bullshit could cover, his strong body settled between your widened legs, his long fingers curled in the warm comforts of your body. He breathes you in, drinks you up.

Your whiskey soaked tactlessness is divine tonight. It offers a heady respite from the impending dark cloud of his self doubt. He doesn’t even mind that you don’t realize how gloomy this shit makes him. He feels like one of those goddamn characters in Sunset Boulevard, switching between the dead bloodied man floating in the pool of his own ambition, and the frenzied, forgotten actress with the warm gun of delusion in her hands. He hates that he’s miserable over his fucking shitty movie, and he’s so hard it’s embarrassing, and a little confusing, and you’re beginning to squirm and he wonders if maybe his tongue might make you shake and—-

“Dieter!”

You dig crescent shaped imprints on the pale, freckled skin of his shoulders. His tongue makes you shout–better than he could’ve ever hoped for. It’s the ego boost he needs. Plus, you’re so goddamn wet that it’s coating his chin and he’s only just got on his knees. That’s nice, too.

He licks up to your swollen clit, tonguing it until you let out delightful little mewls and writhe beneath him. When you close your legs around his head, he lets out a moan. You taste like the closest thing to penitence he’ll ever get. He could eat your pussy all night if you let him. Really. There’s some things he knows for certain, some things even bad fucking movies and a deflating ego can’t rob him of, and his love for this is one of them. The act of spreading a woman apart and eating her like she’s ripe pickings from the Garden of Eden almost drives him to romanticism sometimes. He is sure he could write poetry about this. He bets your pussy’d look so pretty on a canvas. He’s never drawn a pussy from memory, but he’s gonna try it tomorrow and—

“Are you okay?” you rasp, looking down at him with a frown.

Well, maybe it can rob me of this, he thinks bitterly.

Your grip turns more forgiving in his hair, your fingers sympathetically pushing his locks back from his face. He comes up, his slick-glistened lips forming into what you suspect is meant to be a reassuring grin. It looks more like a grimace. You run a thumb affectionately over his cheek and he groans, pushing it off with his shoulder. He positions himself back between your legs. When you pull at his hair again, trying to get him to look at you, he winces sharply.

“Dammit,” he mutters, dark eyes deep wells of glazed frustration. “If I don’t make you cum I’m going to jump out of the window,” he deadpans.

You’ve always hated the kind of people who make you wonder what’s a joke and what’s not, because it’s a constant commotion of miscommunication. Life becomes a bad joke, a joke that is in constant need of explaining, and you’ve never liked that. Dieter is the sort that seems to be hanging on the edge of I don’t know, the kind who seems to be supplanting real answers for half funny, half serious ones. The uncertainty he posits is a product of the uncertainty he feels - you can tell already - but you’re not exactly enthused to decipher him for the rest of your life.

You frown. You’d only met him under strobe lights not even two months ago, shouting over the music to get to know one another. He had tasted of stale cigarettes and early morning remorse, and he’d taken you in the women’s bathroom, pressed you against the bathroom stall, and fucked you with bruising intensity. Then he had written his number on the palm of your hand, and kissed you chastely on the mouth after it was all over. There’s no future here. You won’t be deciphering anything.

“Sit on my face,” he implores. Dieter delivers the sentence like he’s asking you if he can hold your hand. His fingers grip at your thighs and his breath grazes the inside of your legs. When he presses his lips to the side of your cunt, you close your eyes against the sensation. He tongues the spot, laughing shakily as you ease underneath him. Your hips press forward and he takes it as acceptance. “Or don’t,” he says. His tongue teases at your lips, and you can hear the grin in his tone when he says, “I’ll eat you out like this. That’s just fine, too.” His tongue nudges into your opening and you gasp. Your hand finds his hair again. “But tell me you want it.”

His lips press to the side of your pussy again. You gush involuntarily at the sound of a husky voice, at the way he hovers over you with the promise of more.

“Mm.” You look down your body at him, making eye contact as he presses kisses closer and closer to your glistening clit. He nods his head at you, encouraging you as he begins twirling his tongue around the area. “Actors are so goddamn self absorbed,” you say. He nods wordlessly again, smiling against your skin. He doesn’t tongue your clit, though. You want him badly to take it into his mouth. To suck—

“Fuck, please,” you plead. “I want it.”

His eyes glimmer. You feel his hot breath all over you, and can hardly stand the sensation of it. You want to ride his face, make him bring you to orgasm your own way. You nearly forget his sad, petulant attitude in your impatience.

He takes your clit in his mouth, sucks eagerly as you stroke your nipple through the thin cotton of your dress. Dieter is greedy even in his giving, taking as much of you as you’ll let him. He enters a finger into you—a finger that goes in with an embarrassing ease—and then another when you moan lewdly into the enclosed air of this someone else’s bathroom. His face moves with your hips, letting you rock against the rhythm his own fingers set. You moan his name and he goes faster, and you feel on the brink of imploding.

Your eyes close and you focus on his mouth, and the fury with which he works at your swollen clit, and you think of his fingers, and the way your cunt clenches around them, large as they are. As you cum against his mouth with an unapologetically guttural moan, he surprises you with the seriousness of his intent—how he does not look up at you or smirk against you, but works devoutly at building another orgasm up. You grip the edge of the sink and your head thuds against the mirror as it lolls back. The glass reverberates but neither of you care; your ass is gradually rising off the counter and his body is rising up, one of his legs kneeled on the ground and the other one hovering. He makes you cum again in a matter of seconds.

In between your second and third orgasm, his belt buckle jingles open and he’s risen all the way up. He comes up for air, his chest rising and falling rapidly, and then he kisses you on the mouth. He’s wet with your juices down to his chin and he’s not afraid to spread the taste of you against your tongue. There’s a drop of pre-cum wetting the blue of his tight boxer shorts. You grab onto his jean loops and jostle him closer. He comes without protest.

“You shouldn’t ask a man how he feels when he’s eating you out,” he tells you. His head is pressed against your chest and he’s looking down at himself, at the way his cock is strained in his boxers. He’s hard as hell. He looks back up at you with intense eyes. “It’s likely he feels pretty fucking good.”

“Shut up,” you groan. You stuff your hand down the front of his open jeans and his neutrality fades into a smirk. His hips jerk as you palm him and he whimpers, desperate as ever. You fist his hair, driving his neck back so you can kiss along the column of his throat. “The movie wasn’t even that fucking bad,” you tell him. He laughs and you feel his Adam’s apple bob against your lips. You suck at the skin there. If he minds, he doesn’t say. His eye lashes flutter against his cheeks and he happily grinds against your hand. You think you could make him beg, if you wanted. You think maybe he wants to.

You withdraw your touch suddenly and he whimpers, pupils blown wide with desire. He goes from confused to uncertain. “What?—“

“Ground,” you command. He nods curtly.

He peels off his jeans and underwear on his way down to the cold, sterile tile, making no qualms about being bare ass naked on his employer’s bathroom floor. They are downstairs and they’re partying, and even if they weren’t he wouldn’t give a damn anyway. That’s the appeal of him, isn't it? It’s why the public buys the magazines and watches the movies he’s in. Dieter is a brilliant train wreck and they want to see.

That movie they put him in was so goddamn commercial and so heartless, and so contrived. He hopes he gets cum on the black shower mat because of what they’ve done to him.

“I’ve got no condom,” he tells you suddenly, remembering. This had been so spur of the moment. A hand on your knee under the table turned to a hand in your underwear and suddenly you were both up here. His face scrunches up, waiting for rejection.

He supposes he could make do, maybe just ask you to talk to him while he masturbates this hard-on away. Are you into that sort of thing? He supposes it’s a little exhibitionist, and he knows that’s not everyone’s cup of tea but—

You don’t seem to give a shit. You straddle his hips and look down at him. You’re still a little loopy from your orgasms but confident in your approach-confident that he wants this badly as you think he does and goddamnit if you’re not right. He ought to be responsible and ask you the slew of questions responsible people ask before they bury their cocks into nice women such as yourself. Birth control? Have you fucked anyone else and do you think they might’ve given you something? When’s your birthday? Middle name? But he doesn’t. He breathes steadily beneath you, excited and so fucking worked up he’s afraid the first heavenly push into you might be the last one if you’re not careful with him.

He doesn’t even know if you won’t tell the paps about this. Maybe you will. Maybe the price of this will be a magazine spread featuring a bad airport photo of him and the headline “DIETER BRAVO OUT OF CONTROL: L.A. FLING TELLS ALL.” And this L.A. fling will know all, will have everything to tell. In a matter of seconds he tries to decide what kind of person you are. He softens a bit, and you notice immediately, and that fresh Hollywood self pity is back and he softens some more.

Before you can ask if he’s okay again, he heaves a telling sigh. “Too much or not enough drugs,” is his response. It was good while it lasted. What’s the worst that can tell them now? That he eats pussy to make up for his drug induced impotence on bad days?

You look confused, maybe even a little wounded. No, you are wounded. He squeezes your hip as if to say “You did your best” and this hurt flashes more visibly across your face. Well.

“Coward,” you tell him. His eyebrows raise to his hairline.

“Hm?” he answers.

You lean down, whisper it to him. “You’re a self pitying coward. It’s not the drugs. You’re making yourself miserable.”

“Listen—“ he starts indignantly, but you shake your head. Oddly, he’s getting stiff again. This has been the most embarrassing night of his whole fucking life—and perhaps the most telling.

You look down between your bodies, pleased. “My theory was right.”

“Please,” he groans, “no more or I’m going to kill myself for real.”

You laugh and it’s so genuine and that he laughs too, despite himself. You might be laughing at him for all he knows but it doesn’t feel like it. He decides once and for all, looking at you, watching you, that you won’t tell about this or about anything. If you wanted to, you would’ve already. And most importantly, he simply doesn’t want to believe you could be someone like that. He isn’t a coward. Not all the time. He takes a chance on you, here, now.

“Are you on birth control?” he asks. You nod your head. “Have you been tested lately?” You nod your head again. He smiles. “Do you like me? Check yes or no.”

You check yes — or at least he thinks. You kiss him tenderly, more tenderly than is good for him, and you both fall back into your hurried, lust riddled motions. You take his growing hard on in your hand and guide him into you. You lean your forehead on his and let him sheath himself inside of you. He goes slowly, wincing against the warmth of you squeezing around him. It feels so fucking good—dangerously good. He forgets about the stupid movie and the bosses down stairs and all that miserable shit about ruining their rugs.

“Do you like it when I’m mean to you?” you whisper, once he’s fully inside. He looks at you, amused, and shrugs his shoulders.

“I don’t know. Seems like it.”

“Do you think you’d like if…If I was controlling?”

He hums against your shoulder, bringing your body closer to his. “How so?” he asks. He begins guiding your hips, lifting you gently off his cock and slowly back down.

“Make you beg,” you say quietly. “Maybe call you names, if you want. Maybe tell you how good you are when I think you’re good.”He twitches inside of you and you smile. He smiles too.

“Actors are so self absorbed,” he jokes.

“Your movie wasn’t bad,” you assure again, more kindly. He doesn’t respond. He kisses the place between your neck and your shoulder. You quicken the pace that you ride him in and he nods gratefully, sighing softly. His knees draw up and you reposition slightly, feeling him more deeply inside of you as you grind back down into him.

“Do you want to cum?” you ask him. You drive your hips up, gripping onto the hands he has on your hips, making him move in your slow, teasing pace once again. He bites at his bottom lip and doesn’t respond. You stop moving. He flashes his eyes up at you, annoyed and aroused and vaguely infatuated. “Of course,” he breathes out.

“Tell me,” you taunt back. You resist when he tries to move you back down and he groans, but you feel him twitch in you again.

“I know you want me to fuck you too,” he counters.

“Sure,” you nod, “But remember: I’ve already cum three times and you’ve cum none. I think I can withhold far longer than you.”

He can’t help but smirk. That’s not good enough for you. You want him far gone for you, incoherent practically. You rise off his cock completely and he lurches forward, groaning. “No!” he says. “I want to cum!” he says, pawing at you. “Please!”

You hover over his glistening cock and pout. “Didn’t seem like it,” you taunt, moving your hips over him but not touching. His lips part but no words come out. “I want it to seem like it. You’re a big boy, Bravo and you can use your words, can’t you? I hate a man who can’t use his words—who’s afraid to.” You lean down, close to his ear. “I hate a coward.”

“I—I can use my words,” he stutters. His fingers brush against your hips. “Please, just climb back on me and keep riding me. I—I need that.”

“Tell me.”

“Fuck,” he grunts. “I need it so bad.”

You grab his cock, stroke it lazily. “Again,” you say. His face twists up in what could be either pleasure or pain and he says, “Please. I need it. Need you.”

He’s as hard and desperate as he was before. You kiss him hard on the mouth and allow him to take over again, guiding you down onto him this time. He flips you over, lays you down against the ground, and drives into you. You gasp and he smiles like he’s won a prize.

“Can I—“ he fills you to the hilt. “—is it alright if I…Can I cum in you?”

You nod your head. He looks at you and you understand he wants more than just a nod. “Yes,” you answer.

It doesn’t take much more than that. He gathers up your legs, drives into you with one or two more inspired thrusts, and then he’s growing rigid against your body, hot spurts of his cum filling you. He exhales softly into your neck. You think he might apologize for a moment but he doesn’t. Instead he thanks you.

“Feel better?” you ask. He nods.

“Much,” he says. “Hell—I might really be starting to think that the movie wasn’t so bad.” When he looks at you, you can tell he’s kidding.

“Well,” you joke back, “At least even the bad movies get you fucked, huh?”

#dieter bravo #dieter bravo x you #dieter bravo x female reader #dieter bravo fanfiction #dieter bravo smut #the bubble #the bubble fanfic #pedro pascal fanfic

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shadowbriar · 1 year

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Fred Weasley - Selene and Helios

Pairing : (F/M) || Fred Weasley x Reader Word Count : 4k Warning : Mentions of food. Injury. Kinda foul language. Prompts : It’s always been you.” Prompt request is still open. You can find the link to the prompt list here. Notes : If you like this story and would like to support me, please visit my kofi page and perhaps get me a coffee?☕

The Great Hall was filled with students, trying to fill their empty stomachs before facing the upcoming classes. Some were trying to multitask, finishing the essays that could’ve been done earlier had they not played around too much during the weekend, while the rest were throwing jokes and conversing with their peers in bliss. A very mundane Monday morning in Hogwarts.

Until the couple enters.

She watches the squabble with a displeased look, feeling pathetic to her best friend who’s now begging for his girlfriend’s forgiveness. Fred was chasing her, evidently pleading for another chance. Eversince the two started dating, the talk around the castle would always revolve around them. Not due to their lovely romance, no they were far from being the power couple people thought they would be, but because of the frequent public quarrels the two would hold. She believes for whatever sick reason his girlfriend has, it was no accident that their arguments were always of public amusement. Perhaps the attention and murmurs about their fight brings her a certain degree of pride, knowing that she’s the centre of attention. As if dating the Fred Gideon Weasley wasn’t already a haughtiness to brag about.

“Not again,” Lee rolled his eyes at the sight, turning to George “Couldn’t you do something about it? It’s an embarrassment for us all at this point.”

George shrugs, “What exactly do you want me to do? Send her a Self-propelling Custard Pies?”

“That’s an idea.”

“Fred would kill me.” George snorts and nudges her “The only person that could talk to him out of the relationship would be this Sweetheart right here.”

“You think I haven’t tried?” She scoffs, spreading the jam to her toast in annoyance “I’ve tried talking to him, to break up with that vile wench, for months and he’s yet to do it. At this point I’m convinced that she’s slipped him some kind of love potion cause there’s no way in the seven hells that our Fred would ever stoop so low for some girl like her.”

She clears her throat, realising that her jealousy has bleed out. The envy she’s tried so hard to contain for the past month slightly erupted, leaking the drops of resentment through her words. She mentally cursed herself and tried to keep her nonchalant veneer, hoping that the boys would be as oblivious as they always have.

It is one of the worlds’ greatest unsolved mysteries how none of her closest friends seem to notice her brewing infatuation for the older Weasley twin. Don’t ask her when the butterflies started because she couldn’t recall the time when things were anything but lovely whenever he’s around. It was as if he amplified the colours in her world, blessing her with warmth and laughter that she could find nowhere else. Nowhere but his side.

She knew that being bitter over his love life isn’t a very good best friend thing to do. She shouldn’t feel this much resentment, knowing and seeing him with someone else when she never made any advances with her feelings. But the stories Fred shared with her, the choked tears he always tried to hold at night, and the stunts his girlfriend would make him do in public made her seethe. She couldn’t help but to think of how much better their lives would have been had she been the one he’s dating. She would never let him make a fool of himself in public. She would never make him cry at night. She would never make him think that he didn’t love her just enough.

She wanted to rescue him from the collapsing building before it crushes him whole. No, she could never forgive that devil spawned woman if she ever hurt him that severely. She’d hex her to death if it ever comes close to that, for sure. But she couldn’t find a way to save him without having to break his heart. She’s convinced that Fred really loves her, hence all the effort he’s done to make her stay. As much as she’s tormented, she wouldn’t want to be the reason Fred would have his heart broken.

“I just don’t understand.” George mutters, snapping her back to reality “Why would he be so hell bent on keeping her around when his heart’s bound for another?”

She raised an eyebrow, confused at the younger twin’s comment but before she could ask him to elaborate, Fred joined the table with a forced smile.

“Morning.” He greets the group, taking his seat next to her “Lovely day, isn’t it?”

The group nods, not uttering a word at the awkward atmosphere around.

“Here,” She pushed a plate to him “2 toasts, this time it’s blueberry jam cause you had strawberry yesterday.”

The same thing with not knowing when exactly did she start to fall for the loud and obnoxious boy, she wasn’t sure either when she picked up the habit of doing things Fred would unconsciously do. They’ve done this for years. Whoever came to the table first would be the one to make the breakfast for the other. She knew exactly of his preferences, how he likes fruit flavoured jams better than chocolate or peanut butter. She knew which slice of the bread is his most favourite and the degree of burnt he likes to have on his toasts. And even if there’s no toast served at the table, she knew exactly what to get for the boy.

Sometimes she wonders if he’s simply oblivious of her affection or chose to ignore it all together.

Fred smiles gratefully, “What would I do without you?”

“Die of starvation, most probably.” She comments, brows furrow in fake thought “Or of boredom from the long hours of detentions. Or of critical injuries from your stupid pranks.”

“You love my pranks.”

“That I do.” She agrees, nodding “But not when you get hurt from it.”

Fred stares at her fondly. His facial features were soft, staring at her as if she was the most invaluable thing in his possession. Thankfully before she could over analyse his gesture, before a slight hint of hope blooms in her heart that perhaps he might share the same impressions as her, Fred gave her a friendly nudge and laughed it off. As always giving a clear sign that they’ll never set a toe out of the platonic line. Ever.

—-

Spending the break at the Burrow would forever be something she wished she could live forever in. She loves waking up to the smell of Mrs. Weasley’s cooking, the warm breeze and the melodious sound of birds chirping in the morning. But if she has to choose just one thing that made her love visiting the Burrow, it would be the evening drive with Mr. Weasley’s flying car.

She wasn’t sure what kind of sweet talk the Weasley twin did to grant access to the car again after the accident with Harry and Ron back in their second grade, but somehow the prankster has managed to regain their parents’ trust on driving the said car. Fred would always say that it was because they’re driving with her that his mother couldn’t find the heart to say no. She’s been loved by the family as if their own for years and Mrs. Weasley has always had a softer spot for daughters.

“Where are we going again?” She asks as she puts one of her hands out of the window, trying to feel the wind passing by through her fingertips “And why isn’t George coming with us? I thought you twins couldn’t function without the other.”

“I wanted to show you this spot I found.” Fred answers, a giddy smile plastered on his face “I came across this place when I went with Dad, so not even George knew of this place.”

She turned to face him with an amused expression, “So I’m the first to ever enter Fred Weasley’s secret sanctuary? Why, I’m flattered.”

“Well, you are my best friend.”

Her smile dims down. She turns her head away, not wanting Fred to notice her change of demeanour. Best friends. That’s all she would ever be in his eyes. Somehow the title gives her more of a heartache than pleasant these days.

A couple minutes later she finds the car slowing its speed as they reach a grass field. She could see a pond up front with ducks swimming around its surface. The sight brought her bright smile back. She’s always loved lakes and ponds and it warms her heart that the place Fred could find his peace at is somewhere she could feel connected to.

“Pretty neat, isn’t it?”

“Neat? This place is gorgeous!” She squeals, turning to the boy with a joyful expression “Why didn’t you tell me we’re going to the pond, I would’ve brought a swimming suit!”

“If I told you then it wouldn’t be much of a surprise, would it?” He scoffs “Besides, if you brought your swimming suit then Ginny would ask questions and she would want to come. And if she comes, Hermione would want to come. And if the girls come, Ron and the rest of the family would want to come and we know how limited the seating is in the car.”

“Well, we can always get here with a broom or apparate.”

“That’s beside the point, alright? This is my spot. I get to decide who gets to come and not.” Fred says as he rolled his eyes, seemingly faking an annoyed tone “Don’t make me regret showing it to you.”

She smiles, turning back to see the scenery. The place was so peaceful she couldn’t help but wanting to get out of the car, yet seeing that Fred had made no move she didn’t want to be the first to get out. Staying in the car would do, so long as she’s with him.

“She hasn’t replied to any of my letters.”

She blinks, not turning to face the boy.

“I’m not sure what I did wrong.” Fred continues, words laced with dejection “I tried so hard to impress her, to show her that I cared for her, but all she did is toy with my feelings.”

She takes a deep breath. Of course, the reason he wanted to bring her to his secret hideout was not to share his little haven but because he needed someone to talk to. Someone who’ll be foolish enough to listen to him no matter how tormented she really is on the inside. Just how ridiculous it is for her to think that she was special in his eyes for him to have shown this place out of spite.

“Do you reckon I made a mistake?” He asked, voice creaking softly “Did I try too hard with her? Am I making her uncomfortable?”

“Fred, listen to me,” She turned to him, placing her hands to his shoulders “You did nothing wrong, alright? She’s just that thick on the head to ever realise how lucky she is to be with you, to be the girl you try so hard to impress, try so hard to love. You’re the best boyfriend any girl could ever ask for, believe me.”

He flashed an unsure smile.

“I mean honestly, the only question you should be asking yourself is why are you still with that wench when it’s obvious that you deserve so much more than that.” She continued “Seriously, you could pick any girl in the castle, any girl. I’m sure they would say yes to you and would treat you much better than her.”

“Any girl?”

“Any girl.”

“Including you?”

“Now, let’s not get ahead of ourselves.” She fakes a laugh, pushing his shoulder lightly in a friendly stunt “It’s hot here, we should get out of the car.”

She fans herself with her hand, hoping the warmth creeping up to her cheeks would soon die down. She prays that he wouldn’t notice her peculiar act nor how crimson she is. His question has taken her aback, completely fallen off guard. Thank Godric her mouth could act faster than her brain cause if she had to wait for her brain to function, the secret will surely be out and she’s certainly not ready to burn their friendship down.

Yet instead of opening the lock of the doors, Fred takes her hand and entwines it with his. He does this ever so gently, the most tender act he’s done to her that made her stomach flips even harder. Their fingers lock each other ever so slowly, as if wanting to savour every passing second that their skin is in contact.

“Thank you,” He says softly with a smile “For always being there for me.”

She nods lightly, smiling as fondly to him, “You’ll do the same for me.”

“Yeah,” He chuckles crisply “I’ll do the same for you.”

—-

She could tell of what her nightmares for the next weeks to come would be. She couldn’t shake the horror, the sight of him falling off of his broom when the bludger hit him right on the head. She’s never felt her heart beating faster, her legs to run quicker than a couple hours ago when she tried to catch his stretcher before it entered the infirmary. After all these years of being the Gryffindor beater, Fred has never had any serious injuries and to have watched him fall from such height indubitably made her worry.

Now waiting for Fred to wake up from his slumber, she finds herself sighing, watching the boy with bandaged head still with worried eyes. Madam Pomfrey assured her that he’d sustain nothing serious and that he could leave the Hospital Wing the following morning, but until she could see his brown eyes and smile again, she would not be able to rest.

“Uh, my head.” Fred groans as he gradually gains his consciousness “What happened?”

“Nasty bludger to the head.” She says, letting out a relieved huff “How are you feeling?”

“Like I’ve been hit in the head with a bludger.” He retorts, making her smile that his joking side is still intact “Did we win?”

“We did. Did you think Harry would let the snitch slip after you fell from your broom like that?” She asked with a raised brow “But that’s irrelevant now, do you want me to call for Pomfrey? Make sure your brain isn’t all jumbled up inside?”

Fred rolled his eyes as he sat straight up, “I’m fine. No need to worry your pretty little mind for me.”

She flashed a smile, nodding in understanding.

“So, uh,” He speaks again, rubbing his nape in nervousness “Did she, uh, did she come to see me?”

Her brows furrow and smile dilutes, feeling a sense of anger to spark within.

“I mean it’s dark already, reckon it’s late at night and all.” He continues “Did she come at all?”

“No, she didn’t.” She answered short, venom thick on her tone “Doubt she even cared.”

Fred flashed a pained expression.

“Look, Fred, I know this is the worst timing for me to tell you this but you have to get it together, alright? She doesn’t deserve you!”

He watches her with no words, looking baffled at her expression.

She stood from her seat, running her hand through her hair frustratedly. Merlin knows just how much she tries to calm herself, to tell herself to bottle the anger and jealousy in. Fred’s just gotten an injury, for Godric’s sake. The last thing she should do is to project her anger at the poor boy.

But she couldn’t shake the image of him helpless, laying on the ground weakly after the fall. She couldn’t forget the heavy tears falling from her eyes as she tried to follow his stretcher to the infirmary. She couldn’t forgive the fact that even after the match was done, the only people who came were his family and closest friend. No sign of that wretched toad. And to know that he still hoped for her to have come hurts her beyond words.

“She doesn’t care, Fred, she never did!” She yelled, not caring how her words echoed through the empty ward “Just how much more heartbreaks do you have to sustain to see it? She doesn’t care! Why are you tearing your heart apart for someone who clearly doesn’t give a damn about you?”

He gulps, not looking heartbroken but rather appalled at the turmoil.

“It hurts me to see you like this, to see you throw away your pride for someone who always stomped it to the ground with a laugh. It hurts me to see that you care so much for someone who never even returned just a smidge of all your efforts. It hurts me to see that you’re so dead set to love someone who never deserved you in the first place. It hurts me and I can’t take it anymore, alright!”

“Love-”

“You are vexing me to my bones, Fred Weasley.” She says with so much bitter passion, fists tightly curved into a ball “It infuriates me that you could show so much love and patience for someone so wrong when I’m here, standing right in front of you, when I’m here showing and giving you all the love and care you deserve.”

Her eyes widened. No, she did not just profess her feelings to him, she couldn’t.

Fred was quiet. He looks as if he’s just seen the ghost of himself, barely blinking as he tries to digest the words she’s just uttered. He prays to whichever deity out there that he heard her right, that it wasn’t the potion Pomfrey gave him that made him hear things, that it wasn’t due to the fact that his brain is all scrambled to make him hear the words he’s been dying to hear all these years.

“I-” She stammers, looking away from his gaze “I have to go.”

“No, wait-”

She didn’t let him finish his words, finding her feet to run out of the Hospital wing as fast as it could carry her. She wanted to hex herself to death right then and there. How could she let it slip, especially at the worst possible timing? How could she let her rage and envy take the better of her? How could she lash out on him when he needed her to be of his support?

And how would she face him after this?

—-

The following morning she tries her best to avoid the redhead boy. The moment she entered the Great Hall she could already see him seated on their usual spot, two plates of toasts in front of him, one she knew was supposed to be hers. But given their unpleasant exchange last night, she finds herself seated far across the table, joining the group of friends she barely had ever spoken with and trying to blend in with them. Anything to not face her cause of death just yet.

She’s also skipped all the classes that they shared during the day. Having to switch seats with someone else doesn’t feel enough. She has to avoid the man altogether to keep her sanity.

And such effort was successful until he found her sitting by the Black Lake.

“Love-”

“Leave me alone, Fred.” She says fast as his voice enters her ear, packing her belongings “I don’t want to see you.”

“Please, I just want to talk-”

“Not now, Fred.”

She begins to walk away from the boy. Heart aching because of the fear of what he has to say. She knew that he couldn’t avoid him forever, but the event had only happened last night and she barely had processed everything that’s happened. She needed more time and space to think and contemplate.

“I love you!”

Her pace was at halt as she heard his scream, not daring to turn her body to face him.

“There, I said it, okay? I love you.” He repeats, despair evident in his tone “Now you can keep walking away from me, and I kid you not, I’ll keep on yelling until you stop and listen to me, so it’s your choice. We can either be civil and talk privately or I can keep on yelling the three words for the whole castle to hear and you know I have no shame left to my soul.”

She finally turns to see him who now has a bright red cheek, chest heaving in a tidal wave of emotions.

“I love you.” He repeats, this time with a much softer tone “And I’m sorry that it’s taken me forever to say it but I love you, so much I’m going to combust if I have to spend another day not telling you how I truly feel.”

She stares at him with unconvinced eyes, “Don’t joke with me, Fred.”

“I’m not joking.” He says fast, coming closer to her to prove his truth “You can ask George, he’s been hearing my yearnings of you for years. If any of the words I spoke just now were lies I’ll cut my own tongue and feed it to Errol.”

“But-” She stutters, not comprehending any of his words “What about her? You’ve been dating her for years and-”

“I only dated her because I thought you would never see me that way.” He explains, gently taking her hands in his “I thought if I could try to love someone the same way I love you, I could make them fall for me and I would be able to bury my feelings for you. I thought you never loved me that way, so I had to find an outlet to express my affection but Merlin knows that everything I’ve done for her, I pray that I could actually do it for you.”

She gazed into his eyes, trying to find any trace of lies or jest he might be pulling.

“I love you.” He repeats, placing one hand to her cheeks “It’s always been you.”

Her expression softened, accepting his genuine words, “Then why haven’t you said anything? Why did you have to make assumptions about my feelings instead of actually asking me about it?”

“Because I’m not ready to lose you completely if you don’t feel the same.” Fred explains, his eyes filled with guilt “I’d rather get myself crushed by the Whomping Willow than to lose you.”

She rolled her eyes, “What is it with you and wanting to conjure so much injury to yourself.”

“I’m only trying to prove my point.” He grins “I dare say those words because I knew you wouldn’t ever let me get to that point, to hurt myself that severely. You’ve always been my saviour, after all.”

She grins back at the comment. The trouble that’s been plaguing her mind all night dissipates, evaporating into thin air and exchanged into a blissful delight that now sparks every inch of her fibre. For once she could finally embrace the jolt of electricity on her spine and not fight every butterflies exploding in her stomach.

“Can I kiss you?”

“Kiss me?” She asks, baffled at his question “What about her?”

“I dumped her this morning, I couldn’t care less about her.” He snorts, the typical Fred Weasley bravado’s apparent “She could jump off the bridge for all I care. I only want you.”

A proud and satisfied smile creeps to her face as she nods in approval. Fred grins back, the hint of redness on his cheeks still evident as he leans in. She has to quietly pinch herself as their lips touch, making sure that none of the events happening was a dream. Fred was pulling her so close she could feel his heart pounding in a frenzied rhythm inside his chest. This is really happening.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that.” Fred chuckles as he pulls away “I’ll forever curse my stupidity for having wasted that many years of our lives being a coward.”

“Well you have forever to make up for it.” She smiles, giggling “Now kiss me again or I won’t ever forgive you, Fred Weasley.”

#fred weasley #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley oneshot #fred weasley scenario #fred weasley fanfiction #fred weasley fanfic #fred weasley angst #fred weasley fluff #fred weasley prompt #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley x you #fred weasley x y/n #fred weasley x oc

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strangersatellites · 5 months

Text

maple syrup, coffee, pancakes for four

a cute little steddie dads ditty based on this tweet

Steve chuckles under his breath and flips the page.

He’s got his back against the headboard in the low lamp light. It’s late and he’s reading some goofy romance novel that Max left for him last time she was over. Something about people on vacation. He doesn’t really know or care but it’s kept his mind occupied long enough.

Eddie’s sat at the other end of the bed, taking breaks from lightly strumming his guitar to jot down melodies or lyrics or whatever it is he writes in that notebook of his that he carries everywhere.

When Steve tries to start the next page the words stop being about the shitty hotel the characters are at and they start being measurements, instructions.

He slams the book closed in his lap and tugs off his glasses, gets Eddie’s attention and meets his eyes, curious.

“Do you think we should’ve gotten chocolate chip instead?”

Eddie rolls his eyes with a smile and sits his guitar beside him. Huffs a laugh under his breath as he crawls up to wrap both long arms around Steve’s waist.

“Well,” he drags it out, dramatic as always, “Since both of the girls said they liked blueberry better, I’m putting my money on blueberry being the better option.”

Steve’s weighing the options in his head, nodding because he knows Eddie’s right.

“I know, Robbie flips out every time we have regular pancakes but,” he huffs, runs a hand through his hair, “It's pancake day. It has to be perfect. Do we even have syrup?”

Eddie pulls his head back from where he’d rested his chin on Steve’s shoulder, his eyes now less amused and more confused.

“Okay, I thought we were stressing because it’s her first sleepover, what in the world is pancake day?”

Now Steve’s the one who looks confused, down-right offended.

“Uh, hello? Didn’t you have pancakes on Saturday morning after every sleepover growing up?”

Eddie wrinkles his eyebrows up. “No? Uncle Wayne woke us up and took us to the diner.”

And, well. Steve can forgive that.

“Oh. That sounds pretty fun actually.”

Eddie snorts.

“Yeah it was. It was probably just an excuse for him to go see his lady friend but I wasn’t gonna turn it down.”

Steve laughs and smiles at the thought of a grumpy Wayne trying to hit on the waitress and a child version of Eddie flicking eggs across the table.

“I wish I could’ve seen that.” He drops a kiss to Eddie’s temple before he continues. “When I was a kid, my mom always made a big pancake breakfast with syrup and whipped cream and sprinkles and it was the best part of the sleepover. I’ve always wanted to do that for Robbie.”

Eddie’s smile is soft and he’s tangling their fingers together over his lap.

“Aaaaaand now that she’s old enough it has to be perfect. That right?”

Steve nods, lets out the breath he was holding in, lets some of the tension seep right out of his own skin and lets Eddie carry it for a while.

Eddie shifts and tugs Steve so that his head is tucked just near where his guitar pick sits in the hollow of his throat.

“Well, lucky for you, when I took the girls to Rob’s room for bed earlier, when I kissed her good night she told me this was the best day ever.” He tightens his arms around Steve and he can hear the smile in his voice. “I think you could feed them cereal and they’d think it was Christmas morning.”

Steve can’t help the smile on his face at the happiness that his daughter brings him. At the idea that letting her friend spend the night is the best day she’s had in the six years of her little life. Thinks that it might be top five days in his own thirty-two.

He snuggles down further into Eddie’s arms and laughs when the man huffs and reaches to turn off the light.

He kisses his chest and closes his eyes.

“Good night, Eds.”

“Good night, baby.”

He falls asleep to the sound of Eddie’s breathing and the hushed giggles down the hall, more excited than he’s maybe ever been.

Eddie’s set an early alarm to go check for syrup.

#you can pry steddie's daughter being named robin out of my cold dead hands #ask me about this hc actually I have lots of thoughts #Steve would be the Ultimate Pancake Dad #you like chocolate chips? got them #blueberries? in the fridge #plain with just toppings? you'll get your own batch #he runs that kitchen like the military #and everyone is better for it #also they do have syrup nobody panic #steddie #steddie fic #gin writes #shot of gin #things I did not proofread and am not going to

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s1mpforgeorge · 9 months

Text

Was it just Qudditch?

— Fred Weasley x Reader Fanfic —

WARNINGS:

Some smut ig but not really, it’s pretty much intense romance features… Strong Language (mostly at angsty parts), and that’s it!

This is a Romance Genre Harry Potter Fanfic 🙌‼️

————————————————————————

You were inside the Gryffindor common room, grateful for the amount of peace you had in there.

Barely anyone was in the Gryffindor common room, which made it ten times better for you.

You flipped through the pages of your book that you were studying, waiting patiently for your best friend Ginny to come back. Suddenly, the door swung open. “Y/N I brought the Apple cider!” She plopped down right beside you.

“What’re you in the rush for?” You asked, raising an eyebrow and grinning. “Never mind that. What are you reading?” She stared at your book.

“Studying, actually. I’ll finish it later.” You gave an awkward smile and closed your book firmly. “Oh my gosh, your still working on that homework from potions?!” She said in pure shock, “It’s due in 2 days!! — And it’s a lot!”

“Don’t even remind me.” You got up and sipped some of your cider.

She laughed at you teasingly, and then looked at a nearby clock on the wall, and back to you. “Are you going to my brothers qudditch game?” She nudged me with her elbow. You shook you’re head.

“You mean Ron’s?” You said casually. You simply hated Ron, and never cared about him. He always humiliated you in class— you’d never forgive him for that.

“No? Harry’s convincing him not to play today, which I made fun of Ron for. So no, he’s not.” Ginny hopped up.

“Then what do you mean?” You looked at her.

“Oh my fucking—Y/N!” she smacked her face with her palm. “You’ve completely forgot about Fred and George!”

You widened my eyes as you had just realized you’ve forgotten about Fred, who you had a major crush on for years. Well, ever since 3rd year. “Right!” You spat out a bit too harshly.

“So then? Would you like to come?” Ginny raised a eyebrow at you, and gave a polite smile. “I can give you the answers to the potions assignment later?”

You let out a sigh, and nodded. “Sure. But how will they all play in this heavy snow?”

“They got all that complex shit figured out.” She smirked.

You giggled to her response. “I’ll meet you there, see you!” She shouted, as she walked out the door.

You looked down quickly to see all your belongings scattered around the table. You picked it all up, stuffing it in your tote bag, and out the door you were.

As you were having trouble stuffing one of your books in your bag, while walking through the Hogwarts corridors, you weren’t paying attention to where you were going.

All of the sudden, you bumped into a tall boy, in Qudditch uniform. “Erm— Oh, sorry Y/N!” The familiar voice said in a rush.

You looked up to see a familiar face— Fred Weasley. “Oh… uhm, no I’m sorry..” you muttered.

“Sorry? Didn’t catch that.” He replied, gazing into your eyes, as the quickly fixed onto your soft lips.

“Uh… Good luck for your game.” You immediately said, thinking of anything you could’ve possibly said. A mischievous smirk grew onto his face. “Thanks. Your going, right?” He patted your shoulder.

Heat rushed towards your cheeks, and you nodded quickly. He let out a little chuckle. “Hope to see you there then, Y/N.” He said flirtatiously, as you didn’t notice him act that way.

You continued your walking to the Quidditch Pitch, as you couldn’t stop thinking about that awkward moment you just had with your Crush, Fred.

•••

After the Qudditch Game, you ran as fast as you could to the hospital wing, after Fred fell of his broom. Luckily, he only fell 10ft down, and Dumbledore saved him, but he was still badly injured.

“Fred! Are you alright?” You pushed past all the people surrounding his bed. He smirked as his eyes were closed at the sound of your voice.

“Fine, my dear Y/N. Everyone out— except for Y/N.” Everyone scoffed and glared at you, mostly the fan girls of his. Realizing he called you ‘dear’ in fact, wanting everyone out except you was suspicious, and you suspected something… strange.

He opened his eyes gently, and comfortingly held your hand as you sat next to his bed. You widened your eyes as you felt his touch. Looking away you heard his gentle voice again. “Look at me, love.” He whispered into your ear.

You didn’t know if this was real, if this was literally happening. You turned to look at him, and he then pulled you on top of him. “Fuck you don’t know how long I’ve loved you.” He pushed some of your hair behind your ear.

You had no words to reply with, nothing to say. You were just in desperate shock.

“You’re blushing!” Fred pointed out, softly poking your cheeks. “I am not!” You called out, looking away embarrassed. “Your face is red.” Fred winked, a hint of teasing in his voice.

“With Rage.” You said sarcastically. He noticed your body language, he of course knew you were being sarcastic. “I know you like me back. I know you share the same feelings for me.” He winked again.

Your eyes widened once again, before you could think anymore, you were lying directly on top of him. He gently grabbed your jawline, and pulled you in, kissing your passionately.

As your lips touched his, the butterflies immediately hit your stomach. It felt great, the best thing that could ever happen to you.

“Your too hot for me, Y/N.” Fred said, before kissing you from you head to shoulders.

“For the love of fuck Fred..” You smirked, giggling as he kissed you everywhere, leaving love bites.

“Oh yeah, I love to fuck— You.” He wriggled his eyebrows at you.

“FRED!!!”

____________________________________________

A/N: thanks for reading this short fanfic of mine! If you’d like to check out some of my other fanfictions that have chapters, I write on Wattpad, and I’d love if you can follow me on there and check out some of my works! I appreciate all the authors out there who spend hard work on fanfics, especially the Harry Potter ones, bc I personally think they are all impressive. xxx, s1mpforfred <33

Wattpad: jasm1n33_

TikTok: wvtscns_

Insta: hermionegr4ng3r

Send requests of anything Harry Potter fanfic ideas, plotlines/story— anything you’d like! <3

#fanfic #fred weasley #fanfiction #fred weasley smut #harry potter #harry potter smut #smut #x y/n #fred weasley x reader #romance #one shot #short #fred wealsey fic

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funneylizzie · 2 years

Note

Hear me out (I’m not a doctor so correct me if I’m wrong, but): Due to sleep deprivation and the major switch in climate change, from the heat stricken apocalyptic New York where there’s constant fire and pollution in the air to the rainy streets of New York, and other factors. Casey begins to develop the flu. Casey plays it off immediately once Mikey starts noticing and slowly so does the others, with Casey continuously commenting on how he’s fine and the others shouldn’t worry about him, which is a habit Casey learned in his timeline from watching soldiers continue to fight despite their injuries and wounds. Casey, believing that it’s best to deal with whatever is going on with this himself, through the internet as he has learned everyone does that.

Obviously, this doesn’t help as he’s not exactly a medic and doesn’t know half of the things showing up in the wiki page he has pulled up. Casey’s flu worsens to the point where he is comments how freezing it is and often takes breaks when out with the gang to “catch his breath”. After Casey stopped to take a break for the 10th time, April calls him out as sick, Casey again tries to deny this despite basically wobbling and slurring his words whilst using the wall nearby him as support. Casey slips from the wall, taking a tumble as Raph and Leo immediately rush to catch him. After trying to wake him up, they all deduce he’s sick and Leo lets Raph take Casey back to the lair to recover. Donnie hands out hand sanitizer.

During this time, Raph and Leo watch over Casey, April runs to get medicine, Mikey cooks chicken soup, and Donnie is in a hazmat suit to quarantine the area. And yes, Raph gives Casey all his teddy bears.

After an hour from April giving Casey some medicine, Casey wakes up and is very much delirious. Given that as soon as Casey wakes up and looks at Leo, he starts to quietly sniffle, eyes beginning to tear up. Since Raph went to go get blankets with Mikey, leaving Leo to watch Casey, Leo immediately takes up the role of comforting Casey by giving him a hug like Raph would do. Gathering Casey in his arms and rubbing his back in slow circles, this causes Casey to cry even more, even beginning to say nonsensical words which Leo can barely hear from how quiet Casey is. But the words that do get out are, “I’m sorry,” which Casey begins to repeat over and over again.

When Raph and Mikey return, followed by April and Donnie, to a Leo who is currently freaking out about as the situation has worsened whilst trying his best to provide comfort to the Casey who has now begun to pull Leo closer to him and starts sobbing on how he could’ve done so much better, asking for forgiveness. Raph tries to coax Casey into letting Leo go from his deathly grip in which doing so, Casey mutters out the word “Sensei.”

Oh.

The group immediately realizes that Casey isn’t exactly in the right state of mind and Casey’s mutterings begin to make sense to the group, “Sensei, I’m sorry, forgive me.” Is what the group pulls together from the nonsensical rambling.

Casey who has now gone quiet, only making out small sniffling noises and beginning to slump in Leo’s arms causes Leo to gently ruffle his hair and lay him back down to rest, “I got you buddy,” he says and the group leaves Casey to rest.

Casey doesn’t talk about the groups future apocalyptic counterparts besides their achievements and Casey’s obvious respect and admiration for them, choosing to instead switch the conversation whenever someone questions Casey’s past or future them. Which, besides Leo who has been told of what befell these future version of themselves, the others come to a similar conclusions. While the group was aware that Casey was younger than the future them, they weren’t exactly aware of how Casey met them or what age he was, besides the fact that Cassandra Jones was his Mom.

However, while Casey is sick, it becomes painstakingly obvious of the age gap and relationship Casey had with the future versions of them. Given that while under, Casey would occasionally call them “aunt or uncle” and sometimes even “Dad” with Raph and Leo which Donnie immediately made fun of Leo being old. Nonetheless, the group decides not to question the sick boy, but this does answers some lingering questions the group had about their future-selves.

After Casey is fully recovered, having no memory of anything besides fainting, the group decides to keep quiet about the situation despite Casey asking for information and apologizing for whatever he did. With the group silently agreeing to stay quiet and strive to give Casey a good life filled with happiness.

I have never written this much before in a long time and there is most likely spelling mistakes. But, thank you for the inspiration Liz and I hope you have a good day.

- Anon

ANON YOU REALLY WENT OFF!!!!, POOR CASEY 😭😭😭

You’re so welcome for the inspiration, though!!!! This is such an interesting thought thank you for sharing!!!!

#asks #rottmnt

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alexandervangogh · 1 month

Text

Crimson Threads of Redemption

I'm currently working on a psychological horror that's supposed to have tones of philosophy and allegory that I hold really dear to me! To give it a very vague summary, it's two very unstable teenage boys find themselves chewed up and left to the curb by the world's cruelties, and lean into each other for closure. I try to go for a poetic and abstract style that's very indistinctive and metaphorical!! I'm planning to post little drafts I have because a friend of mine suggested it! I'm going to show you the first page so far, but before I do, please mind the sensitivity warnings!! It covers very touchy topics of the following,

Dark depressing settings

Religious trauma

Swearing, slurs

Self harm, suicide, suicidal thoughts and tendencies

Vomit

Very clear (undiagnosed) illness (depression, bpd, anxiety, etc)

Sexism

Homophobia

Gorey description

Intoxication

Physical/psychological abuse

Pedophilia

Sexual abuse

Cannibalism

loss, grief, lament

existential crisis

Here we go!

Sebastian was not a stranger to funerals. Conventionally, he was not a fan of them. They reminded him of the temporariness of humans. Of all beings. They reminded him that no matter how much he loves and cares, whatever for, it’ll slip away because of God’s cruelty. That is why he devoted his breathing to God, all in hopes he’d be granted with the gift to be permanent, and to love permanently. God did not listen. His mother died this year, and what was so painful, he watched it very slowly slowly happen. First it was his father. He got sick, very sick. Not the kind of sick that had Sebastian and little Hannah out of school for two weeks. The kind of sick that had you in the hospital connected to machines. The kind of sick that was dehumanizing. Sebastian watched as his father became one with the machine that monitored his heart, and he watched it flatline and drain of life, his father along with it. His father's funeral was his first funeral. He stood outside, staring stupidly at the gravestone and holding his little sister’s and grandfather’s hands.

He wanted to hold his mother who'd just lost the love of her life, but she did not want to be held. She began to shrink and shrivel before Sebastian. He watched it in slow-motion. She stopped talking. She did not read Hannah to bed as she used to. She did not greet her children in the morning. She didn’t get up to. She did not eat, or take her medication, or get out of bed. It was like ivy had grown over her and bound her to the earth. He could only imagine how much pain she was in. Sebastian understood before anyone, before all his peers, that there was a falseness to this world. Real things are not temporary. Real things do not die.

There was love being found where it should not have been sought. That is why it died faster. Sebastian found falseness in what was called love to people, and he resented it. Sebastian had slight anger in himself, anger he felt was childish. I am better than this anger, he thought. This anger was towards God, for when Sebastian did not know who to blame, that is who he sought. This anger was judgment, for how could a being so wise create love so temporary? Sebastian did not forgive himself for being angry with god. When God took his father away, he thought, it must’ve been because of my anger. He did not know how to tell his mother that his father’s death was his fault. That it was all because of his conflict with God. Eventually, he did. Eleven year old Sebastian approached his mother, tears welling up in his eyes and a good month after the funeral, he admitted that he had a disagreement with God, and that he was to blame for her husband’s death. Sebastian could’ve looked back on how messed up it was of her to snap, to tell Sebastian it really was his fault, to overdose four years after, but he didn’t. When his mother died, he did not cry. He only stared in shock. He watched it. He played it back over and over in his head, the way she slowly led up to this. The way she was tortured relentlessly until then. She stopped eating, stopped talking, stopped leaving her bed, and died right in it. He would never question God again, and his grandfather only pushed the ideology. It had been the first time Sebastian and Hannah had ever been inside their grandfather's home when child protective services dropped them off. He had no wife, she died before both of them had been born. His house must’ve been buried in crosses. It was uncomfortably clean too. It meant if they stepped out of line even a little, he’d snap. That is when whatever grabbed a hold of their mother latched onto Hannah. Only nine, she refused to eat or go to school. His grandfather did not seem to notice, or if he did, he didn’t care enough to talk to her. Sebastian did. When she refused and gave her brother the cold shoulder, he guilted her. He began to cry right there in the room she refused to leave. He cried and begged, and Hannah was aware of the new habit he’d taken upon himself. Sebastian was always prone to self destruction. When he was younger, his biggest form of tantrums would be to thrash around and hit himself as hard as he could. This was so he did not hurt others. As he got older, he found a quicker way to repent when he’d done something wrong in the eyes of god. He’d break his skin, as though it was his “sacrifice.” He feared, and he feared. He was afraid God would torture him. Something seemed to be off with Sebastian since the day he was born. Sebastian thought he must be a natural sinner. He must have some curse that makes him worse than his peers, that is why he was so different. So he tortured himself. Self destruction, so that God wouldn’t send him to hell. So that god would not peel at his skin and crush his bones. He’d claw at his skin, as to say, I’ll do it myself, and his sister was aware. It’d be hard not to. His body was scarred from his arms up, his thighs bruised and scratched from where he would hit. When he began to cry in front of her, she sat up from her bed in worry. Frightful he might hurt himself, she followed him into the kitchen, and ate. She did not miss meals after that. Besides that, she couldn’t afford to. Unfortunately, she had one lung, which put her at a higher risk. It made Sebastian worry. He clutched onto her harder than he did to the Bible. She was his last everything. She was the one thing that hadn’t slipped away yet. He feared, and oh how he feared. He had become her new parent, for his grandfather did not care. Things were temporary. She was temporary. She would break. She would fall. If he stopped holding on, she’d fall apart.

He looked to God like he looked at the sun. With fear, with pain, with much respect and hope. Please return in the morning. He begged silently. His life became less and less significant. He faded in the back of the classroom. He spoke little. He laughed even less. When people spoke to him, he re-remembered every time how distant he was with this world. How far away he was from his own body. He didn’t understand what they said, and after “hello,” the words blurred in his mind. He cared very little. The people speaking to him cared even less, that he knew. Some people, however, had to. For some people, it was their job together.

#religious trauma #religious art #philosophy #abstract #existentialism #nihilism #poetry #writers and poets #art

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spnandtvdudeservedbetter · 8 months

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"What was it like to die?"

dean winchester x female reader

gif isn't mine; but its pretty.

“What was it like to die?” Y/N asked her boyfriend.

“What?” Dean asks as he looks over Bobby’s books on resurrections.

“What- was it like?” Y/n asks. She’d been praying for this to happen for four months. She was in shock.

“It hurt like a son of a bitch.” Dean sighed, not letting her in.

“Dean. You know what I’m trying to get at?” she slams the research book closed.

He jumps at the sound of the book closing, he looks over at her annoyed; “No. Y/n I don’t.”

“How was hell?” She sighed clearly annoyed at her boyfriend’s avoidance.

He slams the book to the mantle of the fireplace; “Why do you care?”

“Why do I care?!” She looked at him incredulously.

He sighs; running a hand down his face as he looks at her. He walks towards her; “look; I’m sorry for yelling at you.”

She crosses her arms in front of herself. “Yeah; whatever.” She opens the research book, flipping through the pages.

He sighs once more; as he goes into the kitchen to get himself a beer.

….

Y/n sits in the same spot as she was hours ago, now reading a different book. Sam and Bobby had gone out to pick up some food, leaving Dean and Y/N to themselves.

Dean looked at y/n from across the room, he’d given up hours ago, and frankly wanted everyone else to also.

With an exasperated sigh, Y/N closes her book, looking up at Dean.

Dean parts his lips slightly, as if he’s about to speak, after a beat he closes his mouth, running his tongue along his bottom lip nervously.

He gulps, speaking to her;

“I- when I was in hell, they chained me up and tortured me for four months; and every day I’d be asked if I wanted to stop being tortured and I’d say no. I said that for four months. But down there, four months is really forty years-“ his voice breaks, a tear falling down his cheek; “I broke after forty years, I was forced to torture innocent souls; they were strung up one by one and I mangled each one.” His last sentence left him gasping as he stared at the floor too scared to look at his girlfriend.

Y/n walks over, kneeling in front of him, placing her hands on his. “Hey. Look at me.”

Dean looks at her, tears still filling his green eyes freely. He wipes them away as best as he can.

“You did what you had to, to survive.” Y/N says, as she cups his face in her hands.

“I tortured them, mercilessly.” Dean explains his voice filled with emotion.

She sighs, “there was nothing else you could’ve done-”

“I could’ve stayed and took the torture for much longer than forty years, I broke like a sissy.” His voice gruff, as he grits his teeth in anger, furiously wiping off the tears from his cheeks.

“Look at me, Dean. You’re back. You’re home, just- just try to forgive yourself. Try to make it better. Castiel said there’s another chance for you here; you have a chance to make it right.”

Dean looks at her, his eyes red from tears, he examines her face, the face of his lover,his best friend and soulmate.

“You are my strength, you know?” He says quietly.

She smiles softly, her eyes sad as she looks at him. She stands up before him, not breaking eye contact as Dean stands also.

He steps toward her, his hands cupping her face gently as he pulls her in for a sweet kiss, a tear falls from his eye as he pulls away.

“I love you, Dean.” She smiles up at him.

“I love you too, Darling.” He returns her smile the best he can, before pulling her close for a hug.

They stay like that for a while, feeling comfortable. Dean, feeling safe in her arms. Something he hadn’t felt in forty years.

#dean winchester #dean winchester x you #supernatural #dean winchester x reader #supernatural dean #spn rewatch #spn fanfiction #spnfandom #dean winchester fic

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thecheshirerat · 8 months

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Dear Aubrey

(danbrey fic for @tazsapphicweek ! this has been so fun. I'll put it on AO3 if anyone wants, but idk how collections work. also the prompt was technically "home" but I've done like three based on that prompt so...)

Dear Aubrey,

Do you know how many casserole dishes I’ve washed for the privilege of control over the TV? Jake said that if I keep putting on Supernatural I’ll owe him three bags of the fancy squid chips he likes just for his suffering.

That’s not it.

Dear Aubrey,

I’ve been watching Supernatural. You were right, it’s pretty good.

Dammit.

No.

Dear Aubrey,

They didn’t have TV shows in Sylvain. You know that. You’ve been there. But of the three that I’ve encountered so far, Supernatural seems pretty good. Definitely better than streaming old episodes of America's Test Kitchen, which is all Barclay wants to watch.

FUCK.

Dear Aubrey,

Do you know how many perfectly good sketchbook pages I’ve spent, trying to draft a proper letter to you?

I know you’re not, like. Living far away. You’re going to be back in a few hours, actually, probably, unless you’re killed, but I don’t think you will be, and then you’ll eat something terrible for you and pass out like, two floors above me.

Maybe I could pass this to you through the vents.

Did you know that passing notes between bunk beds is common to both our worlds? Sometimes I imagine you’re in the bunk above me, and we could just, talk. In the darkness. About everything.

The truth is, I’ve got a lot to say. But you’re not here, so I’m writing it down. In my sketchbook. I really should buy a notebook or something.

Goddamnit.

I could’ve sketched so many cedar branches on this.

Dear Aubrey,

This is going to sound insane, but you smell like home. A little smoky, a little like flash-paper, but there’s also this strong ginger smell. That part is familiar. It’s orange and spicy and makes my teeth flinch in their illusion.

When you walked by the other day it felt like every spark of heat in my body rushed towards you, like there’s a current between us. What do you guys call it, bird bumps?

For a moment, I was just, frozen. And then you looked over my shoulder at the vase of flowers I was drawing and said something like, “Oh my gosh, that’s so cool!” And you joked that I could make hundreds of dollars online if I drew Deacon Winchester. Your hand brushed my shoulder, and all the warmth came back, just like that.

I’ve never felt anything like it.

Well, I have. You know about the crystal, right? It felt kind of like touching that.

God, Dani. Don’t bring that into this.

Dear Aubrey,

I’ve spent so long trying not to stand out.

I can have my identity, so long as it's quiet enough that no one looks too closely.

I can doodle on the cover of my sketchbook. I can be the quirky alt girl who doesn’t have her license at the age of… what age do I tell people. I don’t even remember. I can stare into the mirror, smiling at the freckles that show up on my nose, and people will forgive me for not wearing makeup, but they can’t see my skin when it glows, they can’t see my teeth. They must never see my teeth.

You, on the other hand. Your flashy gestures, your vibrant hair, your jacket that you can barely see under all the pins. When you walk, they clink, alerting people (people whose skin didn’t tingle the moment you arrived, people who are not me) that you’re here. You’ve got an identity strong and colorful enough to be armor. You wear your teeth on the outside.

I want to know what’s under all that. Not to be- nevermind.

I want to know what it’s all protecting.

Or maybe, it’s protecting us.

Dear Aubrey,

I miss Sylvain a lot.

It’s hard to describe the feeling of missing your former planet. It’s like an ache, but sharper. It’s hard, and scratchy, and it eats a cavern inside of me. It’s empty in here. It tingles. My pain chimes, and the chimes echo.

It chafes at you, when the world you’re in is not yours. I don’t belong here, and Earth has no qualms about reminding me. Alien customs. Alien holidays. Alien people, but… not so much you.

It went away, the other day, when you touched me. Just for a second, I was full.

In that second, I felt so free. I felt so untethered. I felt like I could go and be anywhere as long as it was with you. So, not untethered. Re-tethered.

Sometimes I imagine there’s a string between us, and when I see you fidgeting with your fingers, it’s being pulled, looped and tied. I want you to make me into jewelry, to set me around your neck. I want to swing there, next to that gemstone you always wear. I want your heartbeat to warm my skin.

To be a vampire is to know that you are empty, and that other people fill you up.

Here you are, with all this vitality. If I soaked myself in it, if I tucked myself like a bunny rabbit into your arms, if I bottled up vials of flame to warm my bath and make my tea, would you even notice? I don’t want to hurt anyone. Sometimes I feel like I’m scraping away at the walls of a cave inside me, and one day my willpower will collapse. I keep shoring up my inhibitions.

Why does it feel like I’ve awoken from the most restful sleep of my life after talking to you? Why do I feel relieved when you brush my arm? I just want to close my eyes. I want to take off this disguise. I want to follow you.

God, I barely even know you.

This is so weird. I’m sorry.

Dear Aubrey,

I have one episode left of season five of Supernatural. I thought I’d take your advice about stopping there. And now I get the joke you made about chevy impalas!

Do you want to watch the last episode together?

Love,

Sincerely,

Yours,

Dani <3

PS: See on the back my drawing of Dr. Harris Bonkers :)

#THE REASON ITS DEACON WINCHESTER IS A REFERENCE TO TAZ SPIRITBREAKERS I THINK ITD BE REALLY FUNNY IF THEY WERE THE SAME UNIVERSE #anyway #strongly considered drawing dr harris bonkers to accompany this and then attaching it to the post but if I do that it'll be not right now #cheshi squeaks #danbrey #aubrey little #taz #taz amnesty #taz dani #taz sapphic week

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tnbc-thoughtsandheadcanons · 2 years

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Long Live the Pumpkin Queen: Complete Review

Here’s my entire review of the LLTPQ sequel novel. In this, I’ll be comparing it to other sequel adaptations like Zero’s Journey, Mirror Moon, and Oogie’s Revenge. I’m also going to take a look at the characters, writing style, and plot. This will be a pretty lengthy review, so let’s get into it!

Spoilers to Long Live the Pumpkin Queen below.

As an overall summary, I adored this novel. I think it’s a worthy continuation to The Nightmare Before Christmas franchise, that expanded on the world-building and character opportunities. For a film that’s nearly 30 years old, we haven’t seen the other Holiday Worlds nor any new characters/villains(until the Zero’s Journey 2018 comic book.) LLTPQ finally sheds light on unexplored aspects of the film we haven’t seen until now.

I’ll be breaking into different segments, starting with:

The Writing

The novel is written in a First-person Point of View, from Sally’s perspective. First POV is not everyone’s cup of tea, but I'm personally neutral. Shea Ernshaw’s writing style is descriptive - she makes sure you know what the Holiday Towns look and smell like, while knowing what’s going through Sally’s head. I share a minor criticism that, since the text is so descriptive, we don’t really get into all that much action until the later portion of the book. It picks up -- but you have to read through a lot of setting description to get to that point.

(Also, Shea describing Halloween Town smelling like ‘black licorice and pumpkin spice’ isn’t the worst thing in the world. Places can have a variety of different smells depending on where you are - I’m sure it has different scents when it rains or the weather changes. This is simply her interpretation, that I felt got overreacted to.)

This is probably obvious, but my heaviest writing complaint is having to read the glorification of Queen Elizabeth II for seven pages(YES, I counted). Considering the controversies, it was uncomfortable reading Sally idolizing her. While Halloween Town is closely mended to the human's world, it almost hits a preternatural line with the Queen in here and the brief mention of climate change. I feel this was Shea’s attempt to throw Nightmare into a modern setting -- but in a questionable way.

There are also some odd choices in the writing, like referring to Jack’s sockets as ‘eyes’ and having Sally literally refer to her ragdoll body a few times (”my soft ragdoll hands” is not my FAVORITE thing I’ve ever read). While I’m not a fan of certain choices, the novel was overall beautifully written, where we get a good understanding of places like Dream Town and Valentine’s Town.

The Characters

Quick links to posts I’ve made, about Sally’s character, as well as her relationship with Dr. Finkelstein.

One of the flaws with this book, in my opinion, has to be Shea’s insistence with rewriting the backstories of Sally and Dr. Finkelstein. This could’ve been done thoughtfully, but she chose to separate her from the Doctor entirely. If you read the links above, you’ll understand why this was a mistake, from my perspective. He’s crucial to her character -- she freed *herself* from him, only to have that invalidated with a “new story”.

I would’ve love to read the difficult process of forgiveness between the Doctor and Sally - or delving into his backstory, explaining to us *why* he made Sally and was so attached to her. Their situation can be looked through the lens of abuse, which would’ve been interesting to explore, how Sally moves on from the Doctor, while he learns to better his ways with this new creation, Jewel. But he’s villainized instead, made into a kidnapper, which sits terribly with me, and many other people. Shea had the opportunity to look into Finkelstein’s character(’fix’ him, if she was insistent), but refused to, in favor of completely separating Sally’s story from him. :/

(Nevermind Jack's friendship with the Doctor being completely dismissed, chalked up to Jack 'never trusting him', despite asking for his help in the movie twice...)

--Besides that, we’re introduced to new characters, including Albert, Greta, the Sandman, and Queen Ruby Valentino. There are minor appearances from the Dream Town citizens and a leprechaun from St. Patrick’s Town. But I’ll focus on the main ones:

Albert and Greta are fantastic characters, governors of Dream Town who helped overthrow the Sandman from his cruel and demanding reign as King. They are also a rag doll species like Sally, explaining they’re Dream Weavers, who help human children fall asleep. However, they’re also presented as her ‘parents’ - which could be a fine idea on its own, if you ignore the whole thing with Dr. Finkelstein. They care about Sally, though I wish they had been held accountable for their actions.

Queen Ruby Valentino is the first new character we meet when Jack and Sally have their honeymoon in her town. I love the description of her appearance(someone taller than JACK) and how she rules her town - I’ve been waiting to see another Holiday Leader. <3 I only wish we could’ve met and seen the other Leaders in detail (besides the small appearance of the Easter Bunny).

The Sandman is the antagonist of the novel - based on a real folklore, except he steals dreams in LLTPQ. He was the King of Dream Town, but banished to the forest after overworking his people. I like his character and how he’s described - though I find it odd Shea decided to give him a redemption. It doesn’t feel like he was held accountable for putting all the Holiday worlds and humans to sleep. I understand the point of his character: he’s suffered the effects of sleep deprivation for a long time, that drove him to seeking dreams and getting rest for himself - so of *course* he felt better after Sally helped him. But why didn’t he face the consequence of his actions, while Dr. Finklestein had to? 🤔 The Sandman nearly wiped out the holidays, since no one could run them while they’re asleep. For something so major, it felt like he was let off easy.

Shea hesitating to do ANYTHING with Jack Skellington's character shows so badly. He doesn't serve much presence beyond fawning over Sally and being swept up in Halloween planning. The original movie was about Jack feeling unhappy with his role as Pumpkin King - surely, he could've offered more to Sally with her situation here..? His role could've been so much larger here, but the potential was never taken...

The Story

LLTPQ’s story is great, for what it is. I love seeing Jack and Sally finally getting married, going on their Honeymoon, preparing for the official role as Pumpkin Queen, facing her insecurities, and going on a journey to save her home as well as the Holiday and Human Worlds. This novel does a great job going into light of her character!

However, the story chose to derail into Sally reuniting with her ‘lost parents’, taking a good chunk of the novel. I feel like the book would be outstanding on its own without these parts/concepts - if you removed and/or replaced them. This major subplot has to be the biggest thing weighing it down. Other fans have come up with better alternatives for Albert, Greta, Sally, and Dr. Finkelstein -- that I feel would've ultimately made a better story.

I adore the new addition to the lore and worldbuilding - revealing Jack Skellington knows children’s fears by heart, and the Hinterlands Forest contains trees to many unexplored doors, that expand the further you go. There are so many holidays, celebrations, and concepts the humans have - it makes sense a magical forest dedicated to them houses so many, that have simply never been opened. I LOVE the idea that Jack and Sally Skellington are the ones to be exploring them - as it was Jack who uncovered the doors to begin with, and inspired their connection in the first place.

As a Sequel

LLTPQ brings us the most as a sequel to The Nightmare Before Christmas, that a continuation *should* do, imo. I go with the idea that follow-ups should do a few things: expand the universe, continue the story, expand on themes, and leave an impact on the franchise. Following these requisites, I think the novel delivers. Here’s why:

Zero’s Journey didn’t bring a new major villain to the franchise, while Mirror Moon introduced evil clones/copies that aren’t new characters. Oogie’s Revenge reuses Oogie Boogie as a villain who is resurrected from the dead(as do the Kingdom Hearts games). Long Live the Pumpkin Queen is the FIRST material to truly give us a new Nightmare villain(although this is up for debate, since The Sandman gets redeemed in the end...)

It’s also the only Nightmare media to show us another Holiday Leader not from the film, Ruby Valentino. If you play Oogie’s Revenge, the Leaders were stuffed in bags and held hostage, but there aren’t any dialogue/models of them, so they’re only in...bags. They return to their worlds, so we don’t see or spend any time with them. While LLTPQ only goes in detail about *one* - it’s more than what we’ve been given before.

(Also, this being the only media bold enough to establish Jack and Sally's martial status...taking the next step with officially crowning Sally...)

LLTPQ continues the story and spends time outside of Halloween and Christmas Town, which we’ve been given plenty of. We learn what the other towns look like and how things work in their worlds. The Epilogue alone expands on TNBC’s universe and gives us an impact to leave with - Jack & Sally exploring these unearthed Holiday Doors, and what that can mean for them + their world.

LLTPQ delivers what a Sequel should, with new world-building, themes characters, a villain and impact - though not being the best in quality, it's delivered more than other adaptations have in comparison. Take what you will.

Additional Thoughts / Comments

The Disney and Tim Burton situation with this book is still quite boggling to me. Disney has wanted a Sally POV sequel for years, and Tim + his team approved everything in this book. He read Shea rewriting Sally’s story, but didn’t step in to make any changes. Which means he must’ve thought the story was fitting or either didn’t care. Which is curious to me. But he’s not the writer behind Sally, so I can’t say I’m surprised. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

This book was once delayed due to supply issues, but has continuously sold out multiple times after its release and repeatedly made it on Best Seller's lists. LLTPQ is succesful. Only time will tell if this'll pass, or Disney feels bold enough to do/want more from this franchise. Tim Burton is caving in - so who knows what more may come.

Overall:

As I said, I personally LOVED this book, how it portrayed Jack & Sally's relationship, and delivered so much as a Sequel. It stands as my favorite continuation thus far - but not without my criticisms and nitpicking with it. I still feel like I have so much more to say about it. But, at the end of day, I highly recommend buying this book and reading it for yourself. I had a blast.

It's unfortunate the author didn't like a character, and had the power/freedom to simply write him off in her interpretation of canon. I'm convinced this detail is what is detouring so many people from the book - the insistence on a backstory rewrite in what's supposed to be a continuation. And that it's done with almost...ignorant intentions...?

This book will remain subjective among fans (hell, even I don't consider most adaptations as 'canon'). But I'm glad I got to read it and thoroughly enjoyed LLTPQ, despite its issues.

#the nightmare before christmas #sally skellington #shea ernshaw #long live the pumpkin queen #zero's journey #oogie's revenge #mirror moon #tnbc #nightmare before christmas #review

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alyjojo · 9 months

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Love Reading 🫀- August 2023 - Leo

Singles:

Overall energy: The Hierophant

How you will meet: The Hermit

How they will treat you: Page of Pentacles rev

Long-term Potential: 4 Swords

Oracle: Keep Your Word

Either this is your ex…possibly an ex spouse with The Hierophant, or you’re dealing with the chaotic ending of a very serious relationship when this person comes in. You’re tender, wounded, vulnerable, you’ve been through the wringer and really aren’t even looking for a relationship at all, yet here they come. Or this is your ex and you’re trying to get them back, could be either.

This person is very closed off and Hermit-like, Virgo energy is strong whether it applies or not, or you are. Whoever is attempting to make a connection is failing, because there’s a lack of communication, no apologies for mean or petty behavior, you two are on entirely different pages from the get go. It’s possible this person has just left, and you’re hoping they wake up and realize how much you care…I don’t see that happening 😕 Long term, you’re still healing from this person shocking the hell out of you, ending the connection, but it’s possible someone else is coming in too, that you won’t expect (but is a much better fit for you). Could be a Libra. Or the ex could be starting over with someone else, and that’s switched. Or this person is just going to continue shutting down communication, there is no going back with this one in any version of this I can see.

Messages -

Their side:

- Similar Values

- Stalker 👀

Your side:

- I wish I knew then what I know now.

- EX Drama

Signs you may be dealing with:

Virgo, Taurus & Libra

Couples:

Overall energy: 4 Pentacles

Current: Page of Swords rev

Challenge: 6 Pentacles

How they feel about you: 4 Swords

How you feel about them: The Lovers

Outcome: 6 Cups

Very complicated relationship the two of you have. You both hurt each other. You both have shut down communication, it’s a standoff between two stubborn bitches…no offense. You both also miss each other a lot. I’m getting you’ve really hurt this person, and other people may get played a role in this, idk if there’s any potential for healing this in the future because of that. You’re being seen as a cheater, and you may have, but you blame them? If not cheating…flirting, talking to other people, liking an Insta model, something like that.

4 Pentacles shows you both being extremely closed off, because of ego games and both sides feel right, no one admits their faults, everyone defends their own views on things so…there is no moving forward, no vulnerability, apologies, compromise, or humility. As far as you’re both concerned, it’s over. The challenge is both of you feeling extremely upset over both of you being with new people, entertaining that idea, starting over. However you feel, they feel too. They could be making you feel like they’re moving on *because* you did something with someone else…and it’s payback. Or they actually are. Scorpio vibes are heavy in this reading, but doesn’t have to be.

How they feel about you is a lot of deep love & emotion, a lot of feelings they bury and refuse to talk about, they could’ve literally blocked you or just aren’t speaking to you at all. You’re caught up in juggling Lovers, not sure who is right for you or what you really want, which shows you probably leaning more towards another person than them. Or you’re just terrified they’re with someone else, because they’re not talking to you. Outcome by mid September is sadness, heartbreak, nostalgia over the times when you worked well together and were on the same side, had each other’s backs. You or them, maybe both. Your Oracle says to take things very slow, and I don’t think you’ll have much of a choice if they aren’t speaking to you.

Messages -

Their side:

- How could I forgive you?

- If I could I would.

Your side:

- I still think of you.

- You hurt me first.

Oracles - Take a hint from a sloth 🦥

Their side: Look at today as the beginning of a new and positive you, and let go of the past.

Your side: Life is never boring; it is a gift that contains many treasures.

Signs you may be dealing with:

Scorpio, Leo, Capricorn, Gemini & Libra

#Leo tarot reading #love reading #singles reading #couples reading #relationship tarot #august 2023 #Leo #tarot #tarotblr

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stateswscarlet · 10 months

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hey scarlet! I’ve been through your i’ve been to your page and I sincerely love the way you respond to people and help them, I wanted ask you for an advice that is not maybe fully about manifestation, but it kind of is, so I think it’s half-and-half :

so i met this guy like 4 months ago and we were about to start something and then things just didn’t worked out, and well I was into the law but didn’t applied it correctly and didn’t have educated myself like I have now, and during those months nothing happened and I’m moving w my family to another city and start a new life there and I was just thinking “should I just continue with him” because well I don’t know if I should still be with him.

I know now how to do things correctly but I feel emotionally burnt, like horribly burnt. I’ve been learning manifesting the wrong way and I’ve could’ve had lots of things in my life in the past.

I perfectly know that the reason things didn’t come physically is because I never had them in my imagination, I am changing now but i don’t know what to do with him yk?

I don’t want to feel like I’ve had another failure and I look at him and think that we could’ve been so good, but like I’ve told u before, I feel emotionally burnt and frustrated.

I don’t want to feel like a failure that couldn’t live in their imagination and was a slave of their senses.

What would you do in my situation?

And sorry if is this to personal you give me a trustworthy vibe hehe, have a nice day scarlet 🫶🏻

bestie i can tell you're punishing yourself! why are you putting so much pressure on yourself to be perfect? whether you want sp or not, ONLY the present matters, not the past, not the future! please forgive yourself for the past, who cares if you learned it wrong before? NOW you know better. you cant live in the past yet want your present to be better, you have to pick one. please don't punish yourself by bringing your past experiences into the now, because you KNOW where you went wrong, you identified what happened and you need to use that to empower yourself.

no need to rush deciding if you want sp or not, moving isn't going to affect your relationship with sp. i would say to fulfill yourself for whatever your heart desires, and embrace it fully.

one thing I will say, is that you shouldn't be manifesting your sp just to "prove" something to yourself or because you don't want to be a "failure" (no such thing exists).

if you genuinely like your sp and know that even without knowing the law, you would still want them, then go for it. but please don't do it to prove something to your past self, it's not going to help you at all because you MUST accept and forgive that past self of you instead of changing it or ignoring it.

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katestrophic · 2 years

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So, The School for Good and Evil Movie

Verdict: Good movie, not so great adaption. 6.5/10. I’d recommend it if you’re curious, but if you are a fan of the books (like me) you should turn your brain off for maximum enjoyment.

If you haven’t seen the movie or read any of the books I suggest you turn back now because spoilers are up ahead.

By itself, the movie stands well on its own. The pacing is good, the story is fine, and the characters and characterization is decent. The movie still has that same cringe-inducing charm of the book (if you’ve read the book you will know). Sure, some characters could’ve used more time to establish themselves so that they aren’t shallow, like Tedros, Beatrix and her princess friend group, and the Coven but I will forgive it as the movie only has 2 hours and 28 minutes to establish everything while the books have 560 pages. Plus, this story is about Sophie and Agatha primarily.

And speaking of Sophie and Agatha...

They’ve completely changed the whole relationship and dynamic of the two. In the books, Sophie was only nice to Agatha as her pet project to add to her list of good deeds and Agatha only tolerated her because Sophie was the only one who showed some care to her besides her mom and cat. In the movie, these girls are considered the outcasts of the town and just kinda own it together. And while I do not mind this change, I find their friendship quite cute.

But it now makes even less sense in the movie as to why Sophie and Agatha were placed in their respective schools.

In the books, Sophie is vain, conceited, and self-centered. She’s only nice just to look good. Her persona is completely fake. This is only a front so that way it increases her chances of being placed in the School for Good, even outright admitting this to Agatha. That way, it makes sense as to why the switch happened. After all, is someone really good if they’re only being good just to make themselves look better?

Sophie in the movie is just...nice. She comes off as “a barbie girl living in a barbie world” kind of gal. Like, okay, I understand you want your protagonists to be likeable, but since they stripped Sophie of her selfishness, it makes the whole “these girls are in the wrong school” plot point make even less sense now as mentioned previously.

Not only that, without her vanity, the moment where she willingly becomes evil has less of an impact now. In the book and movie, the turning point for Sophie is when she got her hair forcibly cut off. In the book, this kinda breaks Sophie where she’s no longer playing around, she’s gonna get what she wants and do what she wants (henceforth, the F is for Fabulous sequence from the book). In the movie, she kinda just mopes around after the deed is done and Rafal now enters the picture for Sophie to begin to sink his claws into her. They have to get the villain, who, in the books I may add, doesn’t start playing a major role until books 2 and 3, to influence Sophie to become evil. The scene just comes off as that “Oh no! Anyways...” meme.

I don’t know how to segway into the general talk of how the movie adapted the book’s events outside of what they did to the characters, so I guess I’ll start talking about it here.

I guess this is as good as a time as ever to discuss the villain. In the book 1 iirc, his only role is to tell Agatha and Sophie to prove his decision wrong and he’ll return both girls home and then doesn’t do anything else. Sophie just plays against herself and turn evil. Again, as previously mentioned, he only becomes an antagonistic force in books 2 and 3. But here, they gave him a bigger role and moved his manipulating Sophie and giving her power plot point from book 3 to this movie. I guess it’s because they wanted a conflict that would result in a major climatic battle at the end? I thought the whole interpersonal drama of the conflicting goals of these girls was enough drama on its own but the movie doesn’t share the same sentiment I guess.

They changed the whole introduction and even the worldbuilding reader world. Outside of including the duel between the two brothers and the change to Agatha’s and Sophie’s relationship, the reader world has no clue about The School for Good and Evil outside of the bookstore lady. And what from the movie says, outside of Leonora (we will get to her in a bit), Agatha, and Sophie, no one else has been kidnapped which is vastly different from the “every four years two kids get kidnapped from this village who turn up later in fairy tales” lore that the book takes out. They also remove any other characterization of the village besides “everyone is a jerk except for Sophie, Agatha, and Agatha’s mom”.

After the girls get kidnapped and dropped off at their schools, it proceeds normally besides cutting a bunch of book events, like the Circus of Talent, F is for Fabulous, the actual Trial by Tale, and THE MIRROR SCENE.

YOU KNOW. THE PEAK OF AGATHA’S CHARACTER. HER MOST IMPORTANT SCENE. OF ALL THE SCENES THEY HAD TO CUT IT HAD TO BE THIS ONE.

Gregory, an original character for the movie, is a nice edition. I’ve only had him for a few minutes and I will do anything for this boy. And a few minutes is all I had for him because they turned him into a stymph and killed him off. This makes Agatha question the real morality of the two schools, seeing the fate of failed students, which I think is a nice touch to the movie.

They also had Rafal be more involved, directly influencing Sophie to be evil and cut a lot of the antics Sophie did to get Tedors’ attention. But, they also added one more unwelcome edition.

They made Leonara Lesso the reader who got kidnapped and have her be in love with Rafal. She was an evil reader who failed Rafal, making him seek out Sophie, They decided to merge her and Evelyn Sader together. LIKE WHY. This change makes the LEAST amount of sense besides further connecting Rafal to the plot and the girls!

Okay, after that gripe is out of the way, the ending. The ending’s fine. Rafal gives Sophie access to his blood magic. The school for good and evil begin to fight and swap places in terms of morality since the Good attacked and the Evil defended. Sophie and Rafal kiss and when all is loss Tedros and Agatha come in to save Sophie. Sophie takes a hit for Agatha and Agatha slays Rafal using Excalibur. At this point I was mentally checked out so I thought it was fine.

And yes, before anyone asks, they included the kiss scene between the two girls.

After that, the girls return home and the status quo is restored. Good and Evil are now supposedly friends. Happily ever after for these two obviously platonic girls.

But, the ending implies the next book, A World Without Princes, will be adapted in the future and I just let out a sigh. I kinda wished this movie was a one and done deal given my thoughts overall with this movie. And, because of this sequel tease, Rafal will inevitably come back.

Overall, this movie was a fun and nice watch, especially as a fan of the book series since I was in high school. I’m glad the movie was made and I could watch it, even though it was a letdown. I will say, those who like making mood boards and enjoy a fairy tale aesthetic in general, you will eat this movie up because the outfits and environment are FIRE.

Ok my rant is done I’m going to bed byeeeeeee.

#the school for good and evil #tsfgae #the school for good and evil movie #tsfgae movie #agatha of woods beyond #sophie of woods beyond #sofia wylie #sophia anne caruso #tedros of camelot #rafal mistral #movie reiview #long essay #long post #spoilers #kate screeches #leonora lesso #clarissa dovey

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