#read it unfortunately :(( 'the great gatsby' is something i also have yet to read and then jane austen's works! | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sam-loves-seb · 4 months

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Just a gentle nudge that if you feel inclined to post that one Whumptober fic that you gave us a sample of, I'd really love to read it. You're one of my favorite writers though so even if you don't post that one I'll be looking forward to whatever you decide to post next about our beloved Gallavich boys 🙂

oh this is so sweet, you're so kind 😭💛

see, i also would love to post that one whumptober fic but the thing is i still haven't gone back to finish writing it yet, so unfortunately i just have 3k of prison!gallavich sitting in my docs haunting me. i think maybe after the new year i'll go back to some forgotten whumptober fics/prompts and maybe it'll get written eventually, but for now i can at least drop another snippet from it under the cut:

***

The lockdown bleeds into lights out, which only makes Ian worry more.

Wherever Mickey is—he’s not coming back. Not tonight, anyways.

Ian refuses to let his mind go to the worst-case scenario. He’d know. He’d fucking know if Mickey was dead, if his body was lying somewhere without a heart beating between his ribs. Someone would have told him, probably, but he’d feel it in his gut, in the place that tugs and twists and tells him that Mickey is still alive.

Somewhere.

Ian lays in Mickey’s bunk and tries to breathe.

Maybe he’s in solitary. Maybe he mouthed off to a guard or got caught up in a fight that wasn’t even his to begin with—could be anything, really. They throw prisoners in there for less. Maybe by this time tomorrow Mickey will be back in their cell where he belongs, and Ian will laugh against his neck as Mickey retells the ridiculous story of his last twenty-four hours.

Or maybe it’s worse.

Ian doesn’t know, but he needs to. So, he lies in Mickey’s bottom bunk with his jumpsuit on, staring at the ceiling with a couple bills folded in his hand, and he waits.

He doesn’t know where Mickey gets his money in fucking prison, but he knows which hollowed out book he keeps it in, stacked at the foot of Ian’s bunk right between The Great Gatsby and The Book Thief.

“For emergencies,” Mickey told him one night, like a stern parent, showing Ian all his best hiding spots.

For information, is what he meant. For when something goes wrong.

Ian thinks now more than ever, something has gone wrong.

And maybe tomorrow Mickey will thump him upside the head for using it on something stupid, like confirming his boyfriend is in solitary for calling one of the guards a little bitch, but Ian doesn’t care. He’ll let Mickey call him ridiculous and a pussy and whatever the fuck he wants—as long as Ian knows he’s going to be okay.

So he waits the two hours after lights out for the guards to make their first lap of the cellblock on patrol, but he doesn’t recognize any of them. He waits another two hours for their next walk around, twiddling his fucking thumbs and refusing to fall asleep.

He recognizes one of the guards this time, an old school officer named Daniels who no one would ever blink twice at, let alone mark him as corrupt. But Ian does. Ian does because Mickey told him, showed him, had his back more than once and needed Daniels to make certain things happen.

And now it’s Ian’s turn.

“Daniels,” he calls out quietly, sitting up in his bunk just as the guards are almost past his door.

His heart beats hard against his chest and his breathing is fast, but his stomach nearly falls out his ass when the guard actually stops.

Ian is up and pressed against the door in an instant, looking too eager and too green but not giving a single fuck about any of it.

Daniels nods at his partner to go on ahead, waiting a full minute before turning around and looking at Ian straight on.

“I need your help,” Ian says quickly. “I need—”

“Step back, inmate.”

Ian blinks. For a second he thinks that maybe he got his guards mixed up, but there’s a sewn on patch that reads Daniels across the guy’s chest, and that just leaves Ian confused.

“What? No,” Ian rushes out. “I thought—”

“Step back,” Daniels says again, quieter. “So I can open the door.”

Ian does as he’s told.

He stands farther back in the room, shoulders square and his spine elongated to his full height. He waits for the buzzer and the click of the door, never taking his eyes off the guard as he takes three steps into the room.

He doesn’t ask about the empty bunk or the missing cellmate, which leads Ian to believe that he knows.

“Where’s Mickey?” Ian asks, jumping the gun.

Daniels looks him over for a minute. “Don’t know what you’re talking about.”

He so clearly does, but, well—Ian is bad at this, and he’s never been able to play anything cool in his entire fucking life.

He holds out the folded bills in his hand, and Daniels’s brow twitches in interest. He reaches out to take it, but as soon as he grabs on, Ian pinches the cash hard between his thumb and forefinger.

“Where is he?” he asks again.

Daniels tugs the money free from Ian’s grasp, then counts out the cash. He tucks it away in his pocket before resting both hands on his belt, thumbs dipping beneath the fabric as he rocks back on his heels.

“Inmate Milkovich is in the infirmary,” he says without a hint of emotion.

Ian’s heart stops. “For what?”

Daniels just shrugs.

“Fuck,” Ian mutters, running a hand through his sweat-damp hair. “Is he okay?”

“He’s alive,” Daniels says with another impersonal shrug.

Ian remembers to breathe. Alive is good. Alive is—not dead.

Daniels turns to leave, taking two steps towards the door.

“Wait,” Ian calls out, then hesitates when the guard actually turns back. “What… happened?”

Daniels just shrugs again, walking out of the cell like he doesn’t have all the answers that Ian so desperately craves. He stands in the hallway, tilts his head a little as he watches Ian, and as the cell door starts to slide back into place, he says,

“He got stabbed.”

***

yeah i'm pretty sure the prompt for this one was "bloody knife" so that's where this was going.

anyways

thanks for the ask and the lovely words 💛💛💛

#ask sam #q

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theevilmaninyourcomputer · 9 months

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So I need to write an essay aboute authority in The Great Gatsby, and I'm really struggling? Something about staring at a google doc sucks the motivation out of me. And for whatever reason, I become 110% more productive casually blogging (It's just way less pressure). So I'm going to straight up write a book report here. You guys can ignore this or whatever, I don't care.

"Authority" is the central conflict of The Great Gatsby. It's a story about social class; about wealth, and a faustian exploration into why money doesn't necessarily buy happiness (a.k.a. profoundly sad rich people learn that there are, in fact, consequences to their actions). However, class isn't the only form of authority explored in TGG-far from it. The characters rebel against the opressive moral expectations of 1920s Western society, indulging in, well, carnal pleasures (exessive drinking, sex, austentatious displays of wealth), and experience a subsequent corruption of character. It's no coincidence that the first time Nick pries the stick out of his asshole and gets truly, shitfaced drunk, he wakes up in bed with a man. Like good ol' Dorian Gray, he's been corrupted. It's difficult to say whether or not the book intends to disparage this un-christian behavior, if Gatbsy's untimely demise is meant to be read as a tragedy, or as a little-golden-book style moral of the story. Despite Nick's insistance that he is, "one of the few honest people that (he has) ever known" (Fitzgerald 39). All of this is to say, Nick sees himself as the absolute, moral authority (it's worth noting that Nick is also an infamously unreliable narrator). Nick is the narrator of The Great Gatsby, writing down the events of the fateful summer he turned pretty. Thus, everything in the novel is told from his perspective. There is a natural inclination to take everything Nick says as the objective truth (After all, he swears up and down that it is and we should totally believe him, because he's such a moral upstanding guy. He pinky promises!!), but we have to take his privelege into account. Nick is an assumedly religous, rich, white man from the midwest. He's openly racist, he demeans and belittles women, and he's generally very self-righteous. Unfortunately, the audience is inextricably bound to his narrative. It's here that I want to bring up the eyes of Dr. T.J. Eckleburg. "Above the gray land and the spasms of bleak dust which drift endlessly over it, you percieve, after a moment, you percieve the eyes of Doctor T.J. Eckleburg" (Fitzgerald 19). The eyes stare out in omnipresent judgment over the dirty, sin-riddled town. In a fit of madness, George Wilson becomes convinced that the eyes belong to God, stating that, "God sees everything" (Fitzgerald 98). When Michaelis assures George that, "That's an advertisement" (Fitzgerald 98), Wilson continues to stare at the eyes, face pressed against the window pane. The eyes of T.J Eckleburg: the watcher, the detatched observer. The eyes are God, they're Nick, they're the audience. The eyes are us, they are the lens through which we see the world. They're Nick, recounting the story from a safe distance, the unquestionable, indubitable moral authority. Still, the only blind spot in a panopticon is the tower itself. Nick spends so much time scrutinizing other people's moral failings, yet allows himself to get caught in the middle of a TLC-show-worthy scandal. We as the audience blindly trust Nick, and as a result, he becomes a proxy for the eyes of god.

No one in TGG is a good person, including Nick.

(Damn I really just wrote that in 40 minutes.)

#the great gatsby #is there a great gatsby fandom?#I hope so

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insuferrablewhore · 1 year

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blog no 5 - i love reading so much

as the title says, i love reading. saturday last week (or the week before, i’m not quite sure, my perception of time has been quite warped recently) i went to the mall with my best friend and i bought the virgin suicides and lolita. i’m currently reading both, and i love them so much. lolita is a little harder to read due to the fact that it was written a while ago and it has a lot of words i’d never even seen, but overall is really good. i’ve just gotten to the bit when he’s living in mrs haze’s house and is trying to get closer to lo. the way nabakov writes makes humbert so endearing.

i’m halfway through the virgin suicides, at the bit where lux is having sex with guys on her roof, but i love it. apparently my mother had read it too. the very thought that my mother had her own thoughts and opinions that may have been similar to mine makes me sick to my stomach. but anyways, i think the virgin is a true work of art.

i also read a bit of american psycho, which i am about 60% through this week, i still love it.

unfortunately, i am still overly suicidal, and i don’t think my utter willingness to perish will leave me any time soon. but really, my problem is what is causing my suicidal state, not the presence of suicidal thoughts itself.

moving on, since today almost every store in my local mall had a black friday sale on, i went with my dad and i got two books, the great gatsby and crime and punishment. i’m really excited to read crime and punishment, i will after i finish the virgin suicides. then i’ll probably buy the idiot, also by dostoevsky.

i left yet another friend group and have found a new one, also including my friend group. and my other out of school friend is also getting closer to me, which i love because she’s so funny and cool.

yesterday we had the school known pedo teacher as our replacement teacher as our usual was away, and while he was talking he said something funny and i smiled, he noticed and stared directly at me while he was talking. he gave us some work to do and then said ‘girls in the back’ (which was my and my friend) ‘do you have enough space?’ i said yes and he asked ‘can i trust you to do your work?’. he didn’t ask anyone else this, which was odd, i said yes, and then he said ‘you’d never lie to me, would you?’ i said of course not. weird.

then my friend had to charge her laptop but couldn’t find any charging ports, so she asked him if there were any others she couldn’t see, he moved her to a bench in front of his desk to charge her laptop, then he asked me my name and if i’d like to sit with her. i said yes and moved to her, where he chatted with me (the conversation was always initiated by him) the whole time, and with nobody else. he mostly spoke about how life was before everything was digital. he also had a favourite student (a girl older than myself) who kept coming around and he let her sit behind his desk while we played a game because everyone finished their work. he himself said he was his favourite. at the end he was about to dismiss us and i was holding my books and my copy of lolita, which was on the outside, plain to see, although i’m not sure whether the title could be seen or not. he asked me if it was a school assignment and i said no, just for fun. he said it (reading) was a great way to get my literacy levels up, then dismissed us. other than that, he was normal, and he seems nice enough.

moving on, this may be my longest post yet. goodbye for now

also anyone who read this whole thing deserves financial compensation i’m sorry

#girlblogger #girl interrupted syndrome #gaslight gatekeep girlboss #girlblogging #girl blogger #girl interrupted #coquette #kms #idk what to put in the tags

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shititbe · 3 years

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Anyway, Peter Parker is Bi, and I Won’t Be Convinced Otherwise.

Firstly, we have to get our bases covered. What exactly is Bi-sexuality? What is sexuality?

Sexuality is defined as a persons identity in relation to gender(s) they are attracted to. Why is this important? Peter’s sexuality has never been specifically stated in the comics, nor in any other form of media. It’s assumed that he is straight because of his popular relationship with Mary Jane Watson in the comics, and the movies.

Now that we have a bases for what exactly sexuality is and how it’s defined, let’s go over Peter’s partners.

Obviously Peter and Mary Jane are a piece of comic book history. They eventually get married, though sadly, during the events of Civil War II (I think, don’t quote me) Peter and Mary Jane sell their marriage to Mephisto in order to save Aunt May

They later had their memories of their marriage restored, they have yet to get back together and it’s been a few issues if I remember correctly. Next we have Peter’s first, and most unfortunate love, Gwen Stacy.

They dated in high school where she later died. Of course, Peter has dated other people (namely, Black Cat, Betty Brant, Carol Danvers, Anna Maria, Cindy Moon, Lian Tang, and so on). Since we have his known history of heterosexuality out there, we need to move onto another important part of Peter’s Bi-sexuality. An important implication in any media, especially queer media though, and that is the homoerotic subtext.

Homoerotic subtext is important part of queer culture, a lot of the time it’s used to portray a characters queerness without saying it out (see: Dorian Gray by Oscar Wild or Great Gatsby By Fitz). In current decade, homoerotic subtext is often used for queer baiting or creating more realistic male friendships.

So what’s the difference between someone creating a health male friendship (or a character comfortable in their heterosexuality) and implying a character is queer?

Here are some examples of a healthy male character, both with himself and his friendships.

Clearly he’s just taking the shit, and messing around with Reed. He’s comfortable enough (or as I like to see it, so traumatized because good god this guy has been Spider-Man since he was 15 good god that’s awful. He probably doesn’t care anymore). Here are some examples of Peter a little more than just a straight man shooting the shit.

This has three meanings. Two of which I will take, one of which is just deeply embarrassing. Despite Peter’s history with humiliating events, I don’t think he would get his own spunk in his eyes. Leaving the other two options, he has experience getting spunk of - some kind - in his eyes, and/or he’s taking the shit again. Which is very likely.

Kissing a cop? For....no reason? A little not so hetero of you Peter.

You can practically hear his disappointment in his voice. Also could be read as taking the shit, but why would you.

Making out with The Thing? Gay.

This one is the most important. Peter is clearly tired, annoyed by his teammates (see wolverine being wolverine in the corner). Shits on fire, its mid battle, and Peter has the audacity to mutter “I hate men” to himself. The only people I have every heard say this in that was are lgbt and straight women, and lgbt men. This kind of expression only comes from people who date, or deal with men in a completely different world than straight men. Straight men use this phrase as an endearment, “Oh have you seen Bill today, I hate that guy.” “Man Jerry can do so many push-ups, I hate that guy.” Very different language, and implications (I also, obviously don’t know how straight men speak).

Now that we’ve gone over our bases, and homoerotic subtext. How else could we gather that Peter Parker is Bi? There are many tropes in media - queer media - that allure to a characters queerness. Like homoerotic subtext, there are ways to tell an audience something without specifically saying it.

This is a gay wedding Peter went to in the recent comics. I don’t know if any of you have been to a gay wedding recently, but Peters face (the first panel above the wedding) is the same exact face I made at my first gay wedding. It’s the face of excitement for not only the couple, but for yourself. The hope that maybe, you too can actually be in a same-sex relationship.

I’m also going to allure to queer tropes as stated previously. Such as the real, and fictional trope of lgbt people sticking together. Thousands of years of belittlement and oppression will make groups of people not want to wonder out, and subconsciously look for others like them.

Johnny Storm (and Wade Wilson since he comes in later but I couldn’t find a picture of the confirmation) is cannon Bi-sexual (Pan-sexual).

Their friendship is deeply homoerotic as most queer friendships in media and real life are. Johnny flirts with Peter on many occasions (saying his ideal women is a female version of Peter, inviting him over to watch is sex tape, and so on) and of course oh my god they were roommates.

Some other popular queer tropes are: Found Family, Soulmates, and Enemies to lovers. Because it’s superhero related, this includes the Identity Porn tag as well.

Peter Parker and Wade Wilson have a famous Love/Hate relationship. I mean, how could you expect anything less when your first meeting with this known mercenary is him throwing your civilian persona out the window of a car. Now, Wade still doesn’t know Peter is Spider-Man in the current run of comics, but that doesn’t make anything about them any less gay.

For the Found Family Trope:

Because it’s Peter and Wade, their whole development can be read as Enemies to Friends to Lovers, so I wont bother backing that up because, uh, it speaks for itself. One panel really does to add that cause though

I’m not going to explain what a free-pass list is.

The Soulmates part I know I have to back up.

For SoulMates:

Now this panel requires a little explanation. Wade kills Peter, not knowing he’s Spider-Man. Weasel takes over for Peter (they don’t know its him) so no one suspects he’s dead. Deadpool begins to feel guilty he killed his best buds best bud, so he tries to bring Peter back to life. Losing his stunning good looks (switching back to how he looked before Weapon X making his wife Shiklah estranged (then she married Dracula but thats beside the point)). Spider-Man is Peter’s “true self” or patronus for Harry Potter fans. Wade is stupid and hasn’t connected the dots yet, effectively making him the biggest simp in history. Seriously, who destroys their marriage for the c h a n c e for getting some with their idol? A Simp, that’s who.

Peter forgives Wade for killing him (and for saving him from killing their genetic daughter itsy-bitsy). If someone killed me they better be hot as fuck before I even thing about forgiving them. Ignoring Peter’s super sexy forgiving nature, uh, he’s kinda simping.

Died in each others arms. Nothing else is needed.

They’re heartmates. From what I read, the feeling has to be mutual in order for it to work. The witches (long story, comics are hard to explain) that captured deadpool were expecting his wife so they could get the headmistress back. Instead, they got Peter. Basically Heartmates = soulmates but chosen for you instead of chosen by you.

To conclude my point:

Thank you for coming to my TED Talk.

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forthegothicheroine · 3 years

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Stealing this book meme from @wormwoodandhoney, originally from booktubers! Feel free to steal it from me!

1. Best book you’ve read so far in 2021: In the Dream House by Carmen Maria Machado. What can I say about this book? I don’t read a whole lot of dark memoirs, but this true story of the author’s relationship with an abusive girlfriend is formatted by taking it through a million different literary and film genres, examining it through a million different lenses, pulling out the reader’s heart a million different ways. It’s amazing.

The other favorite book I’ve read so far is A Libertarian Walks Into a Bear by Matthew Hongoltz-Hetling. It’s also dark non-fiction, but this one reads like super-dark comedy, Stephen King by way of the Coen Brothers. It’s about libertarians attempting to make their ideal community in an economically depressed Vermont town, exactly the same time a bunch of bears who may have had a brain-affecting parasite started invading. My husband called it Bearoshock.

2. Best sequel you’ve read so far in 2021: Bright We Burn by Kiersten White. This was the final book in The Conqueror’s Saga, an alternate history about a female Vlad the Impaler. While I (still) found the relationship with Mehmed a bit forced, this continued to present one of my all time favorite antiheroines, unlikeable and terrifying and very compelling. I know very little about this history, which I imagine would make me like the book either more or less, but White really knows how to capture and keep my interest.

3. New release you haven’t read yet, but want to: Angel of the Overpass by Seanan McGuire, the final book in her Ghost Roads trilogy, my favorite of her many series. Just ordered it!

4. Most anticipated release for the second half of the year: The Final Girl Support Group by Grady Hendrix. I’ve already read multiple books with similar premises (Final Girls, We Are All Completely Fine) but I adore Grady Hendrix and I feel he’s wonderful with female protagonists and premises that are silly on the outside and very deep on the inside. He’s an automatic buy for me.

5. Biggest disappointment: The Underground Railroad by Colson Whitehead. This won the Pulitzer Prize, so it’s probably my fault for not getting it. Still, I was baffled that you’d come up with a steampunk/magic realism concept about a literal railroad to freedom and then not actual do anything with the railroad.

6. Biggest surprise: The Decameron by Giovanni Boccaccio (translation by Wayne A. Rebhorn) is so much fun! The stories are so bawdy and goofy and the narrator’s voice is really delightful. Sympathetic to Jews, disdainful of the church and preoccupied with the idea of women being in their rights to seek out good times, it gave me a view of the kind of Renaissance personality I have never seen onscreen. Besides, tailoring stories to tell to friends during a plague is something I’ve been doing a lot in the past year or so, so I strongly identified.

7. Favorite new author. (Debut or new to you): Alyssa Cole. Her romance novella Let it Shine was amazingly beautiful and painful and sexy and compulsively readable. I have to check out her Loyal League series now!

8. Newest fictional crush: As above, Ivan Friedman from Let it Shine, a Jewish boxer and activist in 1960s Virginia full of passion and fight, committed to being the one who takes punches for other people. But I wouldn’t want to take him away from Sofie, respectable black college girl turned Freedom Rider.

9. Newest favorite character: Jordan Baker from The Chosen and the Beautiful by Nghi Vo, a magical realist retelling of The Great Gatsby. This Jordan is a Vietnamese adoptee, stylish and smart but forever an outsider, possessed of a magical talent exploited by her selfish best friend, in love with two weak-willed people, the only one who can see through to demonic souls even after it’s too late. I got an ARC from work- look out for my official review!

10. Book that made you cry: Help at Any Cost by Maria Szalavitz. Oof. This is a scathing and horrifying and unfortunately page-turning expose of schools designed to break “troublesome” children into submission. It’s a few decades old, but I can’t imagine this line of thinking and abuse has gone away. (Side note: it inspire me to try and write a ghost story, which I can’t decide whether it might be in bad taste, but it’s the way I have to work out my feelings.)

11. Book that made you happy: Paperback Crush by Gabrielle Moss, an examination of the pre-Harry Potter ya books sold at scholastic fairs, meant for only a few uses. I haven’t read most of them, but this made me feel like I was on a giddy sugar rush at a sleepover party, recommending and making fun of books with my friends.

12. Most beautiful book you’ve bought so far this year (or received): Through the Woods by Emily Carroll. An eerie graphic novel collection of Carroll’s horror stories. illustrated in a deceptively simplistic but bone-chilling style.

13. What books do you need to read by the end of the year? The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo by Taylor Jenkins Reid, partly because it looks amazing but also to justify impulse buying it when I already had too many unread books at home.

#books

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words-for-holland · 3 years

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Christmas Admirers Teaser |T.H.

Pairing: Fratboy!Tom x Reader

Summary: Tom Holland and Y/N have never crossed each other’s paths in the 3 years of their college career. but can a silly letter change all that?

Loosely Inspired by Dash & Lily and every other cheesy Hallmark Christmas Rom-Com Movie out there.

A/N: This wont be a series but this story is going to be really long when it’s done but tbh not sure if Im really like how its coming...Ha...ha.. But I’ll still do a taglist for this when it’s completed so feel free to add yourself if you’d like.

Taglist

Wanna Play a Game?

All it took was one bright red letter and four words to intrigue the most beloved, foreign exchange student of New York University, Tom Holland. If his name sounds familiar to you, then you already know the answer to the question that just popped in your head. Yes, not only was Tom Holland a well renowned actor, he was also a student exploring the wonders of college along with his best friend Harrison. Some say he was only attending to prepare for a role, others say he did it to have his fun with sorority girls, and a very small percentage believed he was actually trying to get his degree in theater. Whatever the reason, college life suited him well, being the head of the Beta Gamma Sigma Fraternity, living the bachelors life with a new girl around his arm every week, but it was all the same...until he found that red letter sticking out of an abandoned shelf in the Potter’s Library.

He remembered it clearly, the day he found it. Tom had reluctantly arrived at the Library assuming his mates would be there to actually study for an exam they had this upcoming week. Lord knows if they didn’t pass this final with at least a C this semester, they would surely relive the nightmares with Professor Gonpu in the next. Yet to no surprise, none of them came and ditched last minute as the pool of messages started to flood his phone.

“Great.” Tom muttered to himself as he took a seat at the far right corner of the library. The area was empty, and as he slouched on the wooden chair and pushed it back, the boy hadn’t realize how close to the empty shelf he was. With a single thud, came a small red letter floating above and gently making its way down to his lap. The inviting words peaked his interest, and while he checked both front and back for a name, the letter should have been addressed to...there was none. He unfolded it and read it to himself.

Do you want a play a game?

You seem like the type of person that has nothing better to do, so let’s make it a little more interesting. I wont tell you who I am, but if I deem you worthy...I just might.

Still with me?

I’ll give you five clues to figure out this location. Everything you need is here in the Library. And...if you even think about using that phone, you might as well put this letter back where you found it. After all.. you’re in a library and it’s got all the information you need. Ready?

Tom looked at it puzzled by the words. “Do people actually do this shit?”, he thought to himself. He continued to read on, examining each clue and the 5 lines next to them.

1. You’ll find your first clue, deals with a tragic romance. He had all the money in the world but never ends up with the one he loves.

“Too easy.” Tom smiled to himself as he quickly looked for The Great Gatsby. He referenced the red letter seeing only 3 spaces for the first clue. “Jay” he whispered to himself, as he triumphantly wrote out the words.

2. Know what else is more shitty than dying and not having the love your life? Writing a depressing poem about the love your life dying. Or as Poe would imagine, a beautiful maiden by the sea.

He smirked at the line, knowing fully well the poem that the mysterious letter was referencing, and quickly headed to the poetry section. Tom scanned the row of books, until the black book with white lettering caught his eye. Flipping through the broken pages, he found exactly what he was looking for. “In this kingdom by the sea, but we loved with a love that was more than love, I and my Annabel Lee.” he muttered the lines, a smile slowly creeping up. Tom writes out the word “Lee” in the 3 lettered blank. “Tragic Romance, how typical.” he says to himself. Though his voice was laced with disinterest, it was Tom’s favorite poem, but he’d never tell anyone that.

It continued on this rhythm of deciphering clues and running around the Library like a chicken without a head to figure out what the letter wanted from Tom. He had been so focused that his plan to study for Gonpu’s final and meeting with the fraternity has completely flown out the window. As of now, Tom’s main priority was to find the answers to the letter’s puzzling challenge. Maybe, if he answered it, he would know who the mysterious writer was.

Then it happened. The last clue was solved, as Tom quickly wrote out the final word, examining his work and trying to make sense of what he found. There were no other instructions left on the letter which only made Tom more puzzled. It wasn’t a name. It wasn’t a thing. It was a place on campus. Jay Lee’s Coffee Lounge, the most serene coffee spot you’ll ever find in NYU. It offered all the essentials needed to focus and complete your work all with a side of great cold brew made in house. People say it’s NYU’s best kept secret, but really it’s because students will rarely go since it’s so out of the way.

He made it to the shop after thirty minutes, and stepped into the calm atmosphere. The smell of gingerbread lattes hit him once he opened the doors, and soft chatter between students filled the air. He looked around the area in hopes to find the person who wrote the letter. Perhaps they were waiting for him, but it was unlikely since Tom wasn’t even sure if the letter was written that same day. For all he knew, he could be wasting his time, and yet....it didnt feel like it. Almost as if he felt he was meant to be here.

“Mate, what are you doing here?!” Tom followed the robust British voice as he whipped his head to the counter. His best friend Harrison, dressed in a Jay Lee’s short sleeved shirt.

“Harrison? You...work here?” He asked voice filled with confusion. Not once did Harrison tell Tom about his side job. In fact it was almost offensive to think the blonde hair bloke would even it hide it from him.

“Yeah...I didn’t really tell anyone because well you know, it’s the last place people would expect a frat to be working in. Reputations and all...What about you? I didn’t think this place was your type of thing.” he asked.

“It’s not...” he paused for a moment, debating on whether to tell Harrison what he found. If it led Tom here, Harrison might know who wrote the letter. He hoped it was girl...God he really hoped it was. “Actually, I was at the library today waiting for you divs --”

“Oh yeah sorry mate.” Harrison looked at Tom apologetically.

“No, its fine really. But I found something interesting, and --”

“Tom, if it’s another blonde wannabe model, I --”

“Bloody hell, Harrison just listen to me. I..” Tom paused for a moment to quickly check his surroundings before pulling up the red paper. “I found this red letter. Made me go on bloody goose chase and led me here. You dont happen to know anything about this do you?”

Harrison took the letter and examined it thoroughly reading the lines word for word and the notes Tom made next to them. He was just as intrigued, but unfortunately shook his head, unsure of the answer to Tom’s question as well. “Sorry, Mate. I have no clue. Never seen anyone here writing out a red letter before.”

Tom held the letter, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion. Was this it? Did he really just waste a whole 3 hours in the library and 30 minutes worth of gas for nothing? “I just dont understand.” he muttered.

“Look if you really think the person that wrote this letter wanted you to be here, why don’t you just write a message in it and post it on the corkboard? Im working the entire week, so I’ll keep an eye on who grabs it and let you know.“

It didnt seem like a half bad plan, Tom nodded in agreement and grabbed a pen from his bag, writing his reply in the empty space, the mysterious writer was so kind enough to leave. He posted it on the corkboard, and turned back to his friend.

“Dont forget.” Tom pleaded.

“I wont mate.”

#tom holland #tom holland imagine #tom holland x reader #peter parker #peter parker x reader #peter parker imagine

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palegoopbearlight · 4 years

Text

Mistletoe mishap.(Snape x reader)

(So idk how to do things on here lmao so I'm just gonna go with it. Ill take requests for snape x reader if you would like. But here's a short story I wrote for snape. Lol )

*summary: "you can't fix this?" "Can't you use a counter curse?" *

Warnings: none~

Christmas was approaching, well, it was actually here just a few days away, students had already began decorating the great hall with lights and colorful Christmas decorations.

Snape, of course, wasn't a holiday person anyway. He never cared for them since he didn't have anyone to share them with.

The mean brooding potions professor preferred to spend his holiday in his class or at the 3 broomsticks reading while having a coffee, or tea. But this year was different. There was a new defense against the dark arts teacher and she was truly a lovely sight, y.n, l.n, was pure eye candy for snape and nomatter how much he pushed that feeling away, deep down he knew he liked her. Y.n was a smart teacher but oblivious to snapes advances.

He's asked her several times if she would accompany him to an event or just to hogsmade on its own. And oftenly she would say she couldn't due to term or owls exams approaching. Snape never knew the right time to ask. He wasn't mad y.n had said no to his requests, only a little upset she had said no, but still, she was seemingly oblivious that snape had a feeling for her.

McGonagall saw clearly between the two, she saw snapes feelings towards y.n and y.ns cluelessness for those feelings. Mcgregor law the young love flowing for snape, he never really showed feeling but yet it was obviously different for the new professor y.n, he would purposely leave one seat next to him open for her and she would oftenly take it. And the same had happend for this night.

Y.n sat next to snape reading her book at the head table minding her business when she noticed snape looking over her shoulder. "Professor, can I help you?" She gave a small smug smile to him as he moved his face from over her shoulder. "No, I was only reading behind you, I've read that particular book a few times, The Great Gatsby." He spoke, his monotone voice sent a shiver through y.ns spine. She nodded when McGonagall stood from her seat. "Students! Listen up please." About 15 students were at each table since most had went home for the holidays. "Since there are few students here this year for Christmas, we all will be taking a small trip to hogsmade this afternoon since there are few to maintain, Dumbledores Christmas present for you all." She smiled as the students that were there cheered and smiled all getting up to go get prepared for the afternoon trip.

Snape sighed standing, he wasn't upset about the trip, he was actually quite happy that he could go back to his table at the 3 broomsticks and have a tea. He glanced to y.n whom also stood up. She caught his eye and smiled a sweet smile. Walking up to him as he looked down at her frozen in his place. "Ms.l.n whats the matter?" He spoke as she stood infront of him. "I'd be happy to take up your offer on the trip to the 3 broomsticks with you if its still available." She smiled and snapes eyes widend. Did she actually say yes to him? The woman whos rejected his advances finally said yes to his offer? His face rested again to make it seem like he was at a mutual agreement instead of jumping with joy, "of course its still available." He gave a small smile and walked with her to the great halls exit. Before they could step through they both froze. Not by seeing anything. They were just stuck. They couldn't move. They couldn't do anything.

Y.n looked upward to see the Mistletoe hanging above them, her face flushed red not of anger but of nervousness. Snape must have noticed to because his pale cheeks were now a red blush. "U-uh.." y.n stutterd as McGonagall approached them. "Oh dear. The two of you seem to be stuck in a small entanglement." She slightly chuckled and snapes brows furrowed "can you undo this odd sercumstance?" Snape spoke his voice gradually getting lower with emberassing anger. And McGonagall chuckled. "Those weasley twins have been pulling mean pranks like this haven't they. I believe this is their doing." Minerva smiled a sly smile "so, you can't fix this?" Y.n spoke her voice slightly cracking as she knew what she would have to do to get out of this tangle. "Unfortunately." Minerva spoke. "Can't you use a counter curse. Something, anything at all?" Snape practically pleaded. Not that he hated the thought of kissing you but the thought of doing it at the wrong time could ruin all chances for him in the future. Minerva thought for a moment and hummed shaking her head. "Im afraid not. Im afraid the only way to get unstuck in to...well you know." She made a kissing gesture with her hands and turned away smilling to herself. Minerva knew The counter curse for the twins shenanigans such as this one. But didn't want to do anything about it because she wanted the both of them to end up together. And she knew they had to start somewhere.

Snape looked down at the blushing y.n and gulped he didn't know what to do. Y.n thought "screw it" to herself and reached up grabbing ahold of snapes face kissing him unexpectedly and shockingly soft. She pulled away and moved out the door. The hex prank was done and they could move again. And as y.n moved, Snape stood shocked, baffled, and a blushing mess. He didn't expect what had happend even though he knew it was the only way to get out the trap. Y.n smiled to herself at his reaction, as he adjusted himself he looked at her still a blushing mess, y.n chuckled speaking up "so I guess this 3 broomsticks trip is more of a date, professor."

#snape x you #snape love #severus snape #snape fanfiction #professor snape #x reader #snape x reader

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utterlyinevitable · 4 years

Text

Hurricane (Part 4)

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

Pairing: Dr. Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Dr. Rebecca Lao) Word Count: 2.1k Warning: Small bit of cussing Summary: A hurricane is falling over Boston. Edenbrook has been evacuated and some very different doctor’s end up seeking shelter together.

A/N: This series was inspired by an anon prompt request for “protection”. I hope I did it justice! This is a multi part story. ALSO I love Gatsby and Fitzgerald and so self-indulgent in this chapter 🤣

________________________________________

Once Becca and Ethan brought order back to Naveen’s kitchen, she bounded back into the dining room with a bottle of pinot noir in each hand for them all to share much to everyone’s elation. Ethan hung back during the first bottle, opting to gather blankets and towels for the guests.

The group of gossips played card games and continued letting the conversation flow as freely as Naveen’s hand. Running out of hospitable things to keep him occupied, Ethan poured himself a generous glass and observed the people around him. With much convincing from the group he eventually gave in to the pressure and joined the game of ‘Bullshit’. When that got boring they moved rooms in the name of tranquil comfort.

They all sat in the living room watching Baz Luhrmann’s The Great Gatsby as the storm raged on outside. Naveen was quick to make sure everyone had copious amounts of wine and cheese before retiring to bed. Without the scrutiny of his father figure Ethan felt he could be a little more carefree.

Under the cover of darkness Ethan let himself drape his arm behind Becca against the back of the love-seat, making sure to keep his touch a distance away, the soft cushions dipped under the weight of his muscle. She felt the warmth of his presence along the base of her neck. The short invisible hairs stood up at the electricity emitting off him, igniting her senses in the best possible way. Becca smiled to herself, moving a bit closer to him so their sides were completely touching. She leaned into him just enough that the fabric of their clothes were pressed flat against the other.

Her eyes darted around the dark cabin. Elijah had moved from his wheelchair and to the edge of the three-seater sofa. Sienna sat next to him in the middle and was now lounging out over Naveen’s deserted seat with a throw pillow cuddled deep in her small embrace.

The coast was clear. Everyone was too engrossed in the film to pay any mind to the diagnosticians on their left.

Boldly, Becca rested her head gingerly on the curve of Ethan’s shoulder. Her friends were none the wiser.

Pushing their luck a bit further Ethan slid his arm closer to her shoulder blades. She reciprocated their game by placing a hand carefully on his muscular thigh.

Ethan’s enchanting blue eyes did their own quick survey of the scene to make sure Sienna and Elijah were still oblivious. When he was certain her friends were too caught up on the imagery, Ethan cupped his free hand over hers. The corner of Becca’s lips noticeably perked as she laced their fingers together.

“I love this story,” she whispered into his ear.

“Why? It’s a tragedy. There is not one likable character in the whole plot,” he whispered back.

“That’s what makes it so compelling. They’re flawed and real.”

Before Ethan could rebuke, her favorite line was about to be said.

“Gatsby? What Gatsby?” she mimicked looking over to Ethan.

Her eyes held the same adoration reflecting from Daisy Buchanan’s character. It was hopeless and all-consuming, fiery and full of… something Ethan couldn’t place. All he knew was when that line fell delicately off her tongue he couldn’t help but parallel the feeling of him and Becca being the only two people in the universe. Ethan had that smile - that one smile reserved only for her. That one smile full of eternal reassurance and pride, making it as if his whole world revolved around her in that soulful moment. A glimpse into who Ethan was and not who Dr. Ramsey needed to be.

Becca was mere inches away. One movement and it would all be over. Her eyes flickered down to his lips and back to the large television screen, ever so enchanted by the modern classic playing out before them. Ethan was thankful for her lack of focus. He let out the breath he was holding in he held onto her hand just a bit tighter.

As the evening passed on Ethan let himself fall a bit more into comfort.

For a brief moment he thought maybe, just maybe, everything could be this simple. They could be together and the people in their lives could all know, and no one would care. No careers could be in turmoil by the mere mention of their romantic relationship.

No politics. Just love.

Unfortunately, that’s not how the world works.

Ethan was far too well-versed in cynicism to let himself fall any further than this moment. Holding hands in the darkness was all they could ever have with others around. He let the moment last, trusting her word that her friends wouldn’t destroy their ephemeral happiness.

No, that was destined for them.

Once the credit scene began to roll Sienna was the first to disturb the peace.

“Come on I think it’s time for bed,” she sat up and tapped a dozing Elijah on the shoulder.

Sienna dared to glance over at the love-seat - doing a double take to make sure it was really, truly happening before her very eyes. There in the warm glow cascading off the television was Becca curled up against Dr. Ramsey. Ethan was cradling her against him with his right arm securely at her waist as his left held up a book. He began reading the closest literature he could find towards the end of the film when he was sure Becca was asleep and wouldn’t castrate him. Neither diagnostician made an attempt to move.

“Yeah, you’re probably right,” Elijah agreed, lazily moving back into his chair while Sienna made sure to put the pillow back where she found it. “Night Becca, Dr. Ramsey,” he called as Sienna wheeled him to their room for the next few days.

“Goodnight, Dr. Greene. Trinh,” Ethan acknowledged without breaking focus on his book.

Once the friends were safely in their room with a click of the door Ethan began to migrate, casting the book aside and reaching for the remote on Becca’s armrest to shut the television off.

“No,” she whined as his small motions rock her gently to disturb her slumber.

With a smirk Ethan scoffed, “You’re basically asleep.”

Becca grumbled back as she threw her arms over her eyes, “I don’t care.”

Ethan took the challenge and swiftly rose to his feet. Becca’s cheek immediately met the crater in the cushion as she flopped down without her supporter.

“Hey!” her objection was partially muffled by the old paisley printed cushion.

Ethan couldn’t help but chuckle at his resident. Her legs were still awkwardly folded under herself and he’d imagine they’d at least be tingly with pins and needles by now, she still had her jeans on and her top exposed the pale skin of her midriff, and her brown locks were wildly strewn about. With a bemused shake of his head he brought the remainder of the dishes into the kitchen.

When he came back Becca hadn’t moved an inch, her body still lolled to the side where he was previously sat.

In four long strides Ethan was back in front of her. Becca heard his shallow footsteps yet was too comfortable to acknowledge his presence. Suddenly the couch flew out of under her and Becca was in free fall. Before she could open her eyes taut muscle and bone made contact with her rib-cage.

Ethan had slung her over his shoulder.

“Ethan!” she hissed. Normally Becca would appreciate the delicious view of this new position however the generous amount of wine mixed with the blood rushing to her head was not working in her favor.

“Shush, you’ll wake everyone up.” Becca’s bottom jiggled from Ethan’s playful smack.

She argued back, “You woke me up!”

“It was that or have a stiff neck tomorrow,” Ethan began to rationalize as he took each step carefully so as to not to lose his balance. “And I’m not dealing with your complaints.”

Naveen’s master bedroom was large with glorious vaulted ceilings and exposed wooden beams. It was much too big for one person. Keeping with the cabin theme, the bed was wooden with four tall posts, the outer wall was lined with windows looking out over the river, and the adjoining bathroom led right into a modest yet bare walk-in closet.

Ethan placed Becca down on the soft springform mattress conscientiously. She reveled in the waft of cinnamon and cedar of the quilt and deep red cotton sheets. Becca appreciated how Naveen also had an affinity for pillows - four medium firm and two down were waiting patiently for her noggin. Becca was too enticed by sleep to rummage for pajamas in her bag. Instead she began to unbutton her jeans haphazardly from her horizontal position.

Ethan watched as she fumbled continuously, not quite grasping the button enough to pop it through the hole. After the fourth try he swatted her hands away, taking the reins. Ethan expertly flicked the button, dragged the zipper down and freed Becca’s legs from the thick day-ridden material. She sighed as the cool air met her clean-shaven skin. Her toes then hooked and flicked off her socks while she sat up and pulled her shirt off.

Sitting cross-legged on top of the duvet in just her nude bra and purple lace panties she asked, “Staying or going?”

Her jeans were now folded on top of the wardrobe where Ethan stood with a cocked eyebrow, “What do you think?”

BOOM!

A close clack of thunder rattled the wood causing them both to jump.

CLACK!

TSS

“Fuck!” she screamed in exasperation as quietly as she could. “Do you think a tree fell?”

“Rookie, are you scared?”

“No. I’ve been through loads of hurricanes,” she asserted, moving up the bed to crawl safely under the covers. “There's just a lot of wood around here. One wrong bolt and we’re all up in flames.”

Ethan perched himself at the edge of the bed next to her nearly nude form. “I highly doubt that will happen.”

“But it could happen.”

“Theoretically.”

The covers sat around Becca’s waist. Her supple curves of her exposed breasts called to him. Ethan began to reach for her but the rational doctor did all he could to stop himself from caressing the addictive skin. Instead his hand rested on her inner thigh, just the thin duvet separating their warmth. Her hair was a frizzy halo around her rounded face and her lips stained deep indigo from all the red wine. And yet she was still - always, so beautiful.

She watched as his eyes trail over her and his chest rose and fell a tad quicker.

“You should stay. I know you want to.”

“You know I can’t.”

“You know they already think we’re dating anyway.”

Ethan was taken aback at the brazen accusation but not enough to remove his hold on her, “We are doing what?” Instinctively his calloused fingers tightened their grip slightly.

“Don’t look so surprised,” she all but rolled her eyes at his idiocy. After a beat, her brown eyes fixated on his expert hand, she added, “Ethan… are you single?”

Her small voice was full of shaken vulnerability. She yanked the covers up higher, releasing his hold on her, and curled herself further into them, shielding herself from his answer. Or lack thereof, there were too many seconds hanging in the space between them.

He reached out to tuck a few strands behind her ear. The wait was killing her.

“No… I’m not.”

Those words. Becca felt like the air had been stolen from her lungs. How long had she been waiting to hear them? How long has she been hoping Ethan Ramsey would commit to only her with a promise of forever? She couldn’t recall anything other than him at this moment moving in closer to her. Their noses brushed every so slightly, his affirming and hopeful words lingering warm against her flushed cheeks.

“Stay,” she breathed.

The way she was imploring him could crumble the Great Wall of China. Every ounce of Ethan’s resolve came crumbling down as he finally admitted his feelings to the universe. He thought she knew by now how he was irrevocably hers without words needing to be shared. Dr. Ethan Ramsey would continue living a solitary life until he could freely be able to love Dr. Rebecca Lao and without fear of completely destroying her bright future.

Ethan wanted so badly to dive into the covers with her and never come back up - her sweet embrace was all the sustenance he needed to survive. But the little voice in the back of his head told him not to cut the line just yet.

“Only until you fall asleep,” he agreed. “Wouldn’t want Naveen thinking we were being indecent in his bed. He’d never let me hear the end of it.”

________________________________________

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#open heart #open heart fanfic #choices open heart #ethan x mc #ethan ramsey #ethan ramsey x mc #choices fanfic #choices oph2 #ohsy #oph2 #oh #choices oh #oph #oph ff #ff #sienna trinh #naveen banerji #elijah greene

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phantomrose96 · 4 years

Text

Ghost Speak: The Teacher Part 6

part 1- part 2 - part 3 - part 4 - part 5

A secret santa gift for @thickerthanectoplasm - who asked for something with an OC of hers (I chose Annie!)

...

When Annie Fenton got home from school, she shut the door a bit harder than usual, and wriggled off her shoes a bit more forcefully than usual, and stomped to the kitchen to start eating cereal out of the box a bit more angrily than usual.

“How was school, Annie?” Danny asked over his shoulder. He kept his words light, hands still tinkering with the ecto-earpiece he’d been trying to sync to his phone’s bluetooth for a while. The gadget was meant for communication during battle, but Danny wasn’t about to pass up the opportunity for ecto-powered (therefore, him-powered) running headphones.

Annie only huffed. The sounds of fist-being-shoved-into-cereal-box and angry-cereal-crunching got louder.

Danny set the ear pieces down, and sat up straight on the living room couch, now properly angling his body around to see his daughter standing on the other side of the kitchen counter – phone in hand, angry-cereal-grabbing with the other. “Not great then?”

“School was stupid. I wrote an awesome essay and Mr. Flannigan failed me on it.”

James, seated at the kitchen table, perked up a touch. “Mr. Flannigan’s an asshole. You probably shouldn’t worry about it.”

“Hey, language,” Danny chided, now fully rising from the couch.

James looked up. “Dad I’m 15. I can say asshole.”

“No you can’t. I was 15 once and I definitely couldn’t say asshole.”

James grumbled. Danny smiled. He rounded the couch and stopped just shy of the kitchen counter. He lowered his elbows onto the countertop and leaned in. “So, that essay?”

“Look!” Annie tossed the cereal box down, yoinked her bag from the floor, tugged the zipper hard enough to risk snapping it, and rifled through the scores of smashed and stashed papers in her bag before emerging with a crumpled, stapled-at-the-corner document. “Read it!”

Danny took the paper from her. A half-sheet rubric was stapled on top. At a glance, Danny could see all categories of the rubric had been slashed-through. Scrawled at the top in black ink it said, “Not legible. Cannot grade. Please write neatly next time.”

Danny flipped the rubric. He cleared his throat and began reading. “In F. Scott Fitzgerald’s The Great Gatsby, numerous types of symbolism are used throughout the story. Such things as Gatsby’s car, the green light, and T.J. Eckleberg’s eyes all are symbolic of the themes in the story.--”

Annie slammed her hands on the counter, then threw both arms out. “See! You can totally read it!”

James nudged his way into the kitchen, ducking under Annie’s outstretched arms and sidling up behind Danny to glance at the essay.

“Annie I can read this too. I don’t know what the hell Flannigan’s problem is.”

“Language, James.”

“What the heck Flannigan’s problem is,” James amended.

Danny focused back on the essay, a bit of righteous indignation rising in his chest. He continued to skim, and not a single word was illegible. Annie’s handwriting wasn’t perfect, perhaps, and the ink had smudged in a few places. But it was neat enough, and clear enough, and certainly readable.

The front door clicked open, a gust of crisp fall air funneling in as Sam wiggled her key loose, a complicated effort with both arms wrapped about brown bags of groceries. Danny, Annie, and James all turned to watch her as she kicked off her shoes, and kneed the door shut, and set the bags down on the counter.

“You would not believe the lines today. I’ve never seen that place so crowded on a Tues—what?”

Sam paused mid sentence, eyes flitting among her family members all gathered in the kitchen, hunched over a sheet of paper. “What did I walk in on?” Sam asked, more than a little used to catching her whole family conspiring to do something stupid, dangerous, or both.

“Mr. Flannigan failed me because he’s an asshole!” Annie shouted.

“I said language,” Danny responded.

“What?” Sam asked.

“He said my writing ‘isn’t legible’,” Annie continued with air quotes. “But that’s bullshit because Dad AND James can read it no problem. Flannigan’s just a jerk and too lazy to read the essay I SLAVED over.”

“Annie’s totally right like it’s not even that messy,” James chimed in, head angling past his father.

“Yeah I skimmed the whole thing and nothing’s wrong with it,” Danny said.

“See?! Validation! And corruption in the system!” Annie banged her fist on the counter top. “I will not stand idly by as the oppressing teaching class tries to tank my grades!”

“I think we should call the school, maybe,” Danny said.

“Or I can talk to Flannigan. He knows me, and I think kinda likes me,” James offered.

“And I’ll kick his butt!”

“Or we could—” Danny started.

“Give it,” Sam said, hand outstretched and fingers curling in twice in quick succession.

“Huh?”

“The essay in your hands that you’re waving around. Let me see it.”

“Oh, right,” and Danny handed the paper over.

Sam set her eyes to it. Annie pounded one fist into her open palm.

“Whole Fenton family’s got my back,” she said. “Flannigan’s ass is grass!”

Danny cuffed her lightly on the shoulder “Language.”

“Yup, it’s exactly what I hoped it wasn’t,” Sam declared, hefting a sigh that could be felt across the room as she set her free hand to her forehead and dragged it down her face. “It’s been what, 20 years maybe? Since I’ve seen this stupid language.”

“Wait, language?” Danny asked.

“What language Mom? This is my English essay.”

“Maybe she means all your swearing?” James proposed.

“Why the hell would I swear in an English essay James? I’m not stupid.”

“Annie for the last time you better watch it with that langu—” Danny stopped cold. “…Oh. Oh. Oh no,” he said with a single quiet breath. “Wait, give it back. Give it here.” He motioned for the paper, which Sam handed to him. He smoothed out the wrinkles, and began skimming the essay again.

In F. Scott Fitzgerald’s The Great Gatsby, numerous types of symbolism are used throughout the story. Such things as—

No, Danny stared closer, squinted at the paper, willed himself to see the words one-at-a-time. Dissect. Isolate. Read. Really read.

Im F. Scott Fitzgerald’s The Great Gatsby, hyrrelt num krechnor fa knurriert gan tepeirier van flyrr. Grakk kann nyrut—

“Oh no,” Danny muttered. “Oh no Annie, not you too.”

“Oh thank god!” Sam declared, throwing her arms up in the air. “Some sweet sweet English!”

“Some sweet—wait—wait was I--?” Danny motioned to himself, fingers spread, palm toward his face, hand waving up and down. “Have I not been speaking English? This whole time?”

“Nope,” she poked Danny in the chest, “not a single English word until ‘Oh no Annie’.”

“…Really?” Danny asked.

“I walked in here. Put the groceries down. Asked ‘what’s going on?’ And all three—all three of you—just went off. None of it was English. I’ve been working off context clues.”

“Hang on what do you mean not English?” Annie grabbed her own paper back, skimming through. “I only know English. What other language could this even be in?”

“Danny, please, answer whatever she just asked, because I don’t have the first clue what she said,” Sam said, turning to rifle through her grocery bags. “I already did this whole dance with you. I’m clocking out on this one.”

“Ghost, Annie,” Danny answered, angling his shoulders just slightly to face his daughter head-on. “Ghost Speak. Ghosts and half-ghosts just kind of, know the language, I guess. We slip into it sometimes without meaning to. Well, I usually don’t. Anymore, at least. But I did right now, I guess, accidentally.”

Annie squinted at her paper. “I wrote an essay in Ghost? I can speak Ghost?”

“You’re speaking it right now.”

“This is Ghost???”

“Listen to yourself closely. You can like, hear it on the fringes of your words.”

“Are you messing with me?” Annie shut her mouth, suddenly tingling with the feeling of sharp edges and enunciations from her mouth that she wasn’t used to. Weird curves and curls of her tongue. A hiss. A light growl. Her smile spread across her whole face. “Oh wicked. Hell yeah, hell yeah! Also, um, how do I stop?”

“With practice. And with training. And with… help… unfortunately,” Danny muttered, seeming to go a little pale.

“Oh no.” Sam paused, letting the groceries sit. “Danny, you’re not going to.”

“I am. For Annie’s sake, I’m willing to make this sacrifice.”

“What sacrifice?” Annie asked.

Danny pulled his phone from his pocket. He thumbed through his contact list and settled on one, and raised the phone to his ear, and the sound of muffled ringing filled the room. A click. A muted hello?

“Hi. Mr. Lancer? It’s Danny. Yeah. Yeah. Good, and you? Yeah, so, I need a favor from you. And before you ask, yes I’m serious—”

…

Hardly 40 minutes had passed when the doorbell rang. Annie opened the door to the sight of an old man almost too tall for the frame, and yet comically too lithe for it as well, almost like she had opened the door for a tree sapling. The old man tipped his bowler’s hat, and seemed to roll and bounce into the house with limbs made of springs.

“Yo! Danny! It has been ages! How the kryypt are you?!”

“Ryan, language,” Danny said, his tone every ounce defeated.

The bean pole man wrapped Danny in a hug, gave him two quick pats on the back and shoved him back. “Yes, language for sure. What’s the damage? Where’s the culprit? I need details.”

“This…” Danny started slowly, motioning to Annie, “is my daughter, Annie. She slipped into Ghost today and hasn’t yet been able to unslip.”

Annie blinked, trying to catch up with the conversation. She got a good look at the newcomer for the first time, as he had finally stopped moving: The man was definitely in his 70’s, his graying hair spiked up front, smushed and disheveled slightly from the bowler hat. His face was deeply wrinkled, skin practically carved into puzzle pieces from—Annie could only speculate—the way his face seemed to bend to an absurd degree with every single emotion that crossed it. He wore square-frame glasses that magnified his eyes, bug-like. His outfit was thrift store chic: hawaiian palm unbuttoned shirt, graphic T beneath with a winking cartoon alligator, tie with stacks of library books printed on it, military camo pants, socks, sandals.

“Your outfit…” Annie spoke slowly, almost in mirror of her father. Her eyes lit up. “absolutely fucking rules.”

“Ha!” the man struck a pose, superman-like, and then flipped his tie over his shoulder. “Thank you! Someone who appreciates fashion!” He stuck a comically-too-large hand out for Annie to shake. “Ryan Finn, spectral enthusiast, and long-time-Fenton-family-friend!”

“More of an acquaintance,” Danny interjected.

Annie took his hand and shook it vigorously. “I didn’t know my dad had any cool friends. Besides maybe Aunt Val.”

“I set a high bar, that’s for sure!” Ryan angled his head over his shoulder toward Danny, still shaking Annie’s hand. “Danny, this child is fantastic!”

“I’m gonna take a nap,” Sam said, rising from the couch and shutting the book she was reading. “Wake me up if anything’s on fire.”

Danny watched her go, staring at the creaking staircase until she had vanished entirely. He looked back on the room, eyes a bit wider, as if suddenly much more afraid of his current company.

“Yeah I’ve um… got to go… patrol… actually… Box Ghost… you know… yeah…” Danny rose too, much more suddenly and tensely than Sam, and transformed on spot. “If you two need anything, don’t hesitate to call Mr. Lancer.”

“Good ol’ Edward!” Ryan chimed back.

“Wait, as in Zelda’s dad?” Annie asked.

“He owes me like, a million times over. Ryan’s kind of his, anyway.”

And with that, Danny shot through the roof, disappearing as a pinprick on the horizon already several hundred feet away. Ryan watched him disappear, then turned back to Annie with a grin.

“I’ve got plenty of experience teaching Ghost, so trust me you’re learning from the best of the best. I also had plenty of time to iron out the wrinkles with my lesson plans when I was running this course on your dad.”

“Wait, you taught my dad?”

“Oh he taught me plenty too. It was mutual! It’s the mark of real life-long friends to bring out the best in each other.”

“How long ago?”

“Oh, man, 20 years ago at this point.”

“So like, you taught him as a teenager? As in when he was my age?”

“Yup and yup.”

“Do you have embarrassing stories about him I can use as blackmail? Can you tell me?? Dad acts like he was only ever cool growing up, and I need to know these things. I need dirt.”

“I will tell anything to anyone who asks with enough enthusiasm! I can keep no secrets, ever! Except one, which is your dad’s identity. I kept that one. But you already know that so I am sworn to no one and nothing! And I can confirm your dad was an absolute mess as a teenager. But still, you have to earn embarrassing stories. Do well with these lessons and we’ll see what I can dish out on your dad. So! Ghost Speak Lesson One! How to stop speaking Ghost! Are you ready kid?”

Ryan struck another pose, and with a grin, Annie mirrored it.

“Oh fuck yeah I’m ready,” she answered.

“Hey!” Ryan stuck a finger out, pointed at Annie. He paused, and the grin on his face spread wider. “I like your fucking language, Kiddo.”

#Danny Phantom #Ghost Speak #dp #dp fanfiction #Ryan Finn #Annie Fenton #boy its been a while since i dusted off this disaster au #good times

326 notes · View notes

imaginedisish · 5 years

Text

Supersymmetry (Five Hargreeves x Reader) (The Umbrella Academy)

A/N: OH HEEYYYYY!!!! I promised you guys an angsty, fluffy fic, SO HERE IT IS!!! This is based off of a request, as well as an Arcade Fire song, aka Supersymmetry. (go listen to it uwu). Anyway, a quick note, Five and the reader are 17 here...I didn’t know how to fit that in the story. I tried...but Five’s age is kinda ambiguous, so I put it here :) Once again, Five and the reader are BOTH 17! Also...THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR 1.5K!!!! YOU GUYS MEAN EVERYTHING TO ME!!!! THANK YOU!!!!!! Okay, it’s 2:47am...and I have school tomorrow....night guys...ENJOY!

Summary: You’re in love with Five, and he has no idea. You decide to finally confess your feelings for him, when suddenly, Vanya attacks the Academy, and all hell breaks loose...

Warnings: ANGST, violence, blood, fighting, stabbing, implied death, language, flufffffff is guaranteed don’t fret kiddos.

Word Count: 3,484 (when you think it’s over...it isn’t over...)

Moonlight glimmers through the massive windows, dancing upon the dusty shelves and books that begged to be opened. The sound of crickets gossiping from just outside the Academy echoes throughout the library. In fact, if one listened closely enough, they could make out the faint sound of summer rain tapping lightly against the sidewalks. The air felt cool, yet damp, almost if that very same rain had somehow walked into the room, leaving a trail of its energy behind.

You take a deep breath as you flip the page of the worn out book in your hand. You had read the novel at least a million times, but no passage in The Great Gatsby, or any other novel for that matter, got to you quite like Nick’s description of Gatsby’s death. You shiver a bit as chills roll down your spine.

A familiar, brown haired, blued eyed boy pops his head through the archway farthest away from where you were sitting. “Mind if I join you?” He asks, smirking a bit, his bangs falling perfectly against his forehead. He takes a step forward, and leans against the archway. He crosses his arms against his chest.

You can’t help but smile as you pat the cushion next to you, motioning for Five to sit down. He walks over, sitting a bit closer to you than you had expected. In his hand is a copy of Siddhartha by Hermann Hesse. He leans back, extending his legs to the coffee table in front of you. You steal a quick glance at Five before returning back to your book.

Something about the moment felt unreal. Maybe it was the way Five’s eyes captured the moonlight, accentuating the vibrance in his blue eyes, all while somehow increasing your attraction towards him, something you thought was impossible. Regardless, in that moment you knew completely that you were in love with Five, and that you had been in love with him for a while.

You had met Five in the library one day while you were researching precognition and psychokinesis. For years your parents told you that you were strange, and somewhat cursed by a set of evil abilities. They medicated you to suppress your powers. Eventually, you recognized the terribleness in what they were putting you through, and you stopped taking your medication. The unfortunate downside to all this was the fact that you struggled controlling your psychokinesis and precognition. And, at times, your precognition was a curse rather than a blessing. You saw things you never wanted to see, for people you didn’t even know. All you knew was that these were futures you had to change.

If you hadn’t met Five that day at the library, you would have been lost. Somehow, he knew you weren’t “normal”. He could tell that you had abilities by the electricity in your eyes, the clear anxiety stretched across your face as you turned the pages of the book you were reading through.

He had also said there was a connection between you two. A certain, supersymmetry.

“Let me help you,” He had said.

And you did.

That was about a year ago. Now your powers were much more developed, and much more controlled. Prior to Five’s help, along with the help of his siblings, you began to feel so much more comfortable. Your parents had seen you as a freak, someone who wasn’t worth anything. They made you so self conscious about yourself, to the point where you didn’t think you would ever belong somewhere.

Five however, made you feel important. He made you feel whole again. He made you feel so valued. For once in your life, you felt like you belonged.

Five silently moved a bit closer to you, the feeling of his shoulder brushing lightly up against yours snapping you back to reality. Heat rises to your cheeks, and you can feel yourself turning red. Your heart is beating out of your chest, and you can no longer concentrate on your book.

Five looks over to you, instantly recognizing that something was wrong. “Hey, are you alright?” His right hand reaches to hold your own. You swallow harshly as you feel his thumb softly brushing over the top of your hand. You wanted to tell him how you felt, right then and there.

“Y-yeah I’m okay,” You stutter. “It’s just this part of the book, it gets me a bit worked up,” You lie.

“Are you sure?” Five continues to question, adjusting himself so that his body faces you. “If something is wrong, you can talk to me about. You know I’m here for you,” He pauses, looking deeply into your eyes, “I’m always here for you.”

Five leans in a bit, studying your face carefully, his gaze shifting between your eyes and your lips. He’s inches away from you now. Five swallows harshly, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat. You can feel his breath dance delicately against your cheeks.

There’s a tension in the air that you can’t describe as Five’s lips part. “Can I kiss you?” Five breathes, swallowing harshly again. You nod your head.

Five’s lips collide with yours. The kiss is soft and innocent. You close your eyes as your heart flutters in your chest, butterflies raging in the pit of your stomach. You had wanted this for so long. You feel so connected to Five, like supersymmetry.

Five’s warm lips pull away from yours, and you open your eyes.

Five smiles widely. “You have no idea how long I’ve been wanting to do that,” He says, his face still inches away from yours. He nervously scratches the back of his neck. “I didn’t think you would want to, well, you know…” He trails off.

You shake your head. “I’ve liked you for such a long time, Five,” You explain. “Why wouldn’t I want to kiss you?”

Five looks off to the fireplace at the other end of the room. “I don’t know, I don’t feel like I’m not good enough for you. Why would someone like you want someone like me?”

You couldn’t believe what he was saying. Five was one of the most amazing people you had ever met. You take a deep breath, realizing what you needed to say. “Five, I’ve been in love with you for months now. The question is, why wouldn’t someone like me want someone like you?”

Five’s head whips back towards you. “You love me?”

Shit, I said that too soon, You think to yourself. Fuck, it’s too late now. “Y-yes,” You stutter. “I love you.”

The corners of Five’s mouth instantly turn up. “I lo-,”

Diego cuts Five off, rushing into the room, knives in his hands, fear in his eyes. His face was pale. He looked as though he had just seen a ghost. “Five! (Y/N)! We’ve got a bit of a problem on our hands…”

Suddenly, the windows lining the walls of the library violently swing open, and an intense, cold wind rushes through the room. Books fly off the shelves, pages tearing out due to the sheer pressure. Five grabs onto your hand, squeezing tightly.

“It can’t be,” Five says, standing up, still holding your hand in his. You stand up with him. “We locked her away, for good this time,” Five shouts in annoyance. You look at Five, the color drained from his face, his eyes frantically searching Diego’s for some sort of explanation.

“She’s here, Five. She’s in the courtyard, and she’s asking for (Y/N),” Diego says, his voice shaky. He anxiously runs a hand through his hair.

Dammit, You think to yourself. Vanya. Vanya had lost her temper once before, around the time that the Hargreeves took you into the Academy, and you had all agreed that it would be best to find a safe place to keep Vanya until she learned to control her powers. They didn’t want to emotionally instabilities and hurt Vanya further, but more importantly, they didn’t want her to have the opportunity to hurt a single person.

Five shakes his head in disbelief. “What the hell does Vanya want with (Y/N)?” Five questions, anger prevalent in his voice. “I swear to God, if she lays one hand on (Y/N), or does anything to hurt her, I’m going to mur-,”

Diego cuts Five off. “She’s your sister, you’re not going to kill her.”

Five rolls his eyes, letting go of your hand as he steps closer to Diego. “No, I’m going to do whatever it takes to make sure nothing happens to (Y/N). If that means killing the person who has caused us so much pain and loss over the past two years, then that’s just what has to be done.” Five’s finger aggressively presses against Diego’s chest, his nose scrunched up in rage.

“Or I can just go out there and see what it is she wants. I can handle myself, you know,” You say, your arms folding across your chest.

Suddenly, you feel a sharp pain pressing against the side of your head. Fuck not now, You think to yourself as a vision of the future begins to display itself in your mind.

There was Vanya, across from Five. You were nowhere to be seen.

“She did this! She took my place! I’m supposed to be Number Seven! Not her!” Vanya screams at the top of her lungs.

“Vanya, you need to calm down!” Five shouts back, stepping closer towards Vanya.

“I am The White Violin! And don’t you dare fucking tell me to calm down!” Vanya says, running towards Five, her bow in her hand. Five attempts to teleport to the other side of the courtyard, but his powers refuse to cooperate.

“Vanya stop!" Five yells, backing up. But he’s trapped. She approaches him, bow in hand, ready to strike. She pulls back, then-

You fall to your knees, head in your hands. You begin to sob uncontrollably. You can’t, no you refuse, to fathom what it was you had just seen.

“(Y/N)?” Five calls out, dropping down to your side, his arms wrapping around you tightly. “What happened? Did you see something?”

You can’t speak. You can’t get the image of Five dying out of your mind. You move your body so that you’re crying into Five’s chest, his warmth calming you down a bit.

“Guys,” a new voice interjects. “No one told me about the psychotic woman in the courtyard. Now be honest, who ordered her to play the violin for us? I won’t be mad. I’m sure you had good intentions!” You knew instantly that it was Klaus, based on the fact that he was trying to make a joke out of a serious situation. You look up at him, expecting him to be chill, nonchalant, ready to crack another joke, but fear filled his face.

You pull apart from Five, pushing off the cold ground with your hands to stand up. “I have to go out there,” You say softly. “She’s here because of me.”

Five stands up, grabbing your wrist. “No, she’s just going to hurt you. I’ll go out there. I can talk her down. She trusts me.”

You shake your head, pulling away from Five once again. You take a deep breath. “N-not according to the v-vision I just h-had,” You say nervously. “F-five, sh-she…” You pause, anxiously scratching your forearm. “She k-killed y-you.” Tears fill your eyes. “I have to go out there. It can’t be you. Your powers are going to stop working due to her manipulation of the atmosphere, she knows how to best you. Sh-she knows h-how to d-destroy y-you.”

Silence looms over the room. You feel the wind picking up as more books fly off the shelves. Suddenly, all at once, the windows shatter.

“Fuck!” Diego screams, crouching down, holding his hands over his ears as shards of glass rain down. “We need to do something!”

Klaus nods his head in agreement as he crouches down next to Diego. You and Five crouch down as well. A few seconds pass by before it seems as though things had calmed down a bit. The wind, however, persisted.

“It has to be me,” You exclaim as you stand back up, walking towards the nearest door to the courtyard.

“You can’t do this, (Y/N)! Look what Vanya’s capable of! I can’t lose you!” Five yells, his voice struggling to carry over the wind.

“I’m sorry, Five,” You say, picking up your speed as you run out of the room, struggling to move against the wind.

“No!” You hear Five’s voice echo behind you. You turn around to see Klaus and Diego holding Five back, kicking and screaming like a child. You wish you hadn’t turned around. Turning around is never a good idea…ever. It makes you see a second option, another choice. You could go back, let someone else take their chance at stopping Vanya.

But in reality, you had no choice. It was just the allusion of choice. If you turned around, someone else would die, and eventually Vanya would most likely find a way kill you anyway. She was here for you, and that was exactly what she was going to get.

Tears begin to stream down your cheeks as you recognize what it was you were about to do. You were sacrificing yourself for the others. You knew it had to be done, you knew there was no other way. You needed to save Five. He’s survived through so much, he could get through losing you. And after all, as your parents had so often reminded you, you were worthless. He’d get over you quickly enough.

You begin to sob as you approach the set of French doors that led to the courtyard. You carefully maneuver around the broken shards of glass on the ground so you could open the door. Your hand rests on the handle.

This is it, here we go, You think to yourself. You twist the handle, and you pull the door open.

The wind outside is even more intense. You can barely breathe. Rain taps away at the concrete. Vanya is in the center of the courtyard, levitating about three feet in the air. An ominous blue light surrounds her, and garden chairs swirl about her. Broken pots and other items are scattered across the ground in a huge mess.

“Vanya!” You call out, your voice weak from crying. Still, somehow, she hears you clearly. The objects spinning around her stop, and they remain suspended in air.

“My name is no longer Vanya!” She screams. “It’s White Violin!” With a single look, Vanya lifts a piece of broken glass, and sends it flying towards you. You extend your right hand out, stopping the shard just inches away from your face.

You swallow harshly. “Let me talk to you, Vanya. I can fix this!” You shout.

Vanya scoffs. “You took my place, (Y/N)! I’m Number Seven. You’re nothing. You’re worthless! You aren’t even one of the 43 babies! What are you? Seventeen years old? You’re a child!”

Her words are far too familiar to you. They sound exactly like your parents. Tears begin to fall down your cheeks rapidly. Amidst all the chaos, all you can think about is the hell you had endured for years. You close your eyes as you flashback to your mother telling you that she didn’t love you, your father essentially disowning you, and finally, being kicked out of your own home.

Then, an idea pops into your mind. “Vanya, I know how it feels to be hurt, to feel like you don’t have a place, to feel different. We’re more similar than you think. Together, we can get through this. I can help y-,”

Your words are interrupted by a sharp pain in your lower abdomen. You grab at the area, and you feel a sharp object. You look down, your hands and clothing now covered in blood. An incredibly large shard of glass sticks out of your stomach. You look up towards Vanya, and back down to where she had stabbed you. You fall to the ground.

The cold wind passes through your body. The concrete underneath you is unwelcoming and frigid. How did all this happen? You think to yourself. How did I not see this coming? I’m so naive. I thought I could help her…fix her.

“(Y/N)!” You hear Five’s voice call out. “No, no, no!” Five hovers over you, his hand coming down to your cheek. “Stay with me, please.”

“I-I’m s-so sorry,” You croak, the pain worsening.

“No, don’t apologize, please don’t do that,” Tears stream down Five’s face. He takes a deep breath. “I love you. I meant to say that before all of this happened. I’m in love with you, (Y/N), please just stay with me.”

You smile weakly. “I’m sorry I couldn’t stop her. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you how I felt sooner. I just need you to know-,”

Five cuts you off, his warm lips pressing against yours. The kiss is quick, and you wish it could’ve lasted longer. “No, you aren’t saying goodbye to me, not yet. Stay with me, please.” Five kisses your forehead lightly. “I can’t lose you.” His hands are trembling as his thumb softly brushes your left cheek. You feel that connection again, the connection you had felt when Five had kissed you in the library just minutes ago. Supersymmetry.

You hear Vanya’s voice echo throughout the courtyard. “It had to be done, Five. She took my place. She ruined everything for me!” Five’s eyes shut tightly at her words, tears flowing freely from his eyes.

Five opens his ocean blue eyes again, his bangs resting against his forehead. He studies your face carefully. “I’m so sorry that you’ll have to be here for this, but it has to be done,” Five says, standing up.

You’re beyond confused. What is he talking about? You think to yourself. “F-Five…” You trail off, too drained of energy to be able to say anything.

“Hey Vanya!” Five yells out. “Think fucking fast!”

You can’t see what happens, but you hear a singular gun shot ring out. Suddenly, the wind stops. You hear a clatter of things falling to the ground, and then everything turns to black.

Your eyes flutter open. The world is white. You look around, but it seems as though there is nothing to be seen. You sit up from the soft, white bed you had been laying on. You swing your feet around to the right side, and you stand up. The floor beneath your feet is warm and inviting. You turn around, and you see a figure with long brown hair, dressed in white.

You immediately know who it is.

“Vanya?” You call out. Vanya turns around to face you, a small, sad, apologetic smile spread across her face.

She begins to walk towards you. “I’m so sorry,” She whispers. “You have no idea how sorry I am, (Y/N).”

In that moment, it felt as though you two were being brought together by some outside presence. You were connected. It was supersymmetry.

“I know. I am too.”

Vanya then disappears into nothingness, and a welcoming, calming presence takes you away.

Your eyes open groggily, rays of light pouring into the room. You spot Five slumped in a chair next to the bed you were laying in. You seem to be in an infirmary. “Wh-what happened?” You say, struggling to sit up.

“Oh my God, (Y/N),” Five says softly, almost in disbelief, rushing over to your side. “I thought I’d never see those eyes again,” He chuckles lightly, clearly fighting through the pain he had been feeling. You can’t help but smile.

Suddenly, memories of what had happened come back to you in bits and pieces.

“How long was I unconscious for?” You ask, searching Five’s piercing blue eyes for an answer.

“Only about twenty four hours, but they were the longest twenty four hours of my life. We weren’t sure if you were…” Five trails off, looking down at his feet. “I-If you were going to make it.”

“And Vanya?” You question, even though you’re almost more than certain that you knew the answer.

“She didn’t make it,” Five says, his voice filled with remorse, tears filling his eyes. “I had to do it, (Y/N). She would’ve hurt other people.”

You grab his hand. “You don’t need to justify what you did. You did the right thing,” You say reassuringly.

“When I saw what she did to you, I didn’t know what to do. I couldn’t lose you,” He shakes his head.

“And you didn’t. You never will,” You say to Five.

There was that feeling again, that connection…supersymmetry.

2K notes · View notes

isabvllas · 4 years

Text

♡ . * ( jennie kim, cis female, she / her ) have you heard ? it seems like the heir of the MUN dynasty was very close to liam yu too. they go by ISABELLA and they were liam’s FAMILY FRIEND. their networth is of 82M and they’re only TWENTY-THREE … what a burden it must be. i heard they can be very COQUETTISH and VIVACIOUS. but these last few months, their DISINGENUOUS and VAIN personality has been showing more. the media is sure having a field day with them ! i hope this road trip with friends will help them. did you know that CHEWING BUBBLEGUM AFTER LUNCH, WHISPERING SECRETS TO A LOVER, CANDY HEARTS and PILLOWS STAINED WITH TEARS really show their true persona ? maybe liam was the only one who knew that ...

hi everyone, i’m so happy to be here !!! my name is diana, i’m twenty, go by she / her pronouns, and reside in the est timezone. some quick facts abt me: i’m a libra and girl group stan !! below u can read a bit abt my muse isabella hehe if u like this post i’ll hit u up for plots !!! my discord is missing blackpink hours#5522 if u wanna message me there, but if not, im’s work just fine <3

♡ . * 𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒔𝒕𝒊𝒄𝒔 !

full name : isabella grace mun

nickname(s) : bella, isa ( by liam only )

age : twenty-three

zodiac : libra sun, scorpio moon ( click )

sexuality : bisexual

alignment : chaotic neutral

pinterest : click

♡ . * 𝒃𝒂𝒄𝒌𝒈𝒓𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒅 ! ( drug tw )

keeping up appearances has always been the mun family’s main focus. everything they do is an attempt to better their public image. her parents marriage was merely another business agreement between two powerful families

her father’s side works in finance and investments, while her mother’s side owns one of the wealthiest PR firms in the world

her parents got married because there was nothing the public loved more than family. you could get away with almost anything with the illusion strong family values under your belt. isabella’s conception was just part of the arrangement

her mother was not particularly maternal. her husband was a few years to her senior, so she was still fairly young when she got pregnant. however, they had already been married for two years and a baby was part of the deal

isabella was passed along through a string of nannies. none of them stuck around long enough to give her the emotional support she so desperately desired. she clung to adult figures throughout the majority of her childhood, from boarding school teachers to private tutors

as she grew older, however, she began to understand the way of things. she barely spent any time with her parents, but the one thing she learned from her father was how to look out for herself. no one else was going to do it for her

throughout secondary school, she perfected the art of getting what she wants. she’d put on a sweet, helpless act to manipulate those around her. she became fluent in lying, and it always worked to her advantage that she had a face people could trust

she spent her teen years growing a social media following, becoming a beauty influencer. she was seen as an it girl, credited for starting various fashion trends

without anyone looking after her, isabella was able to do whatever she wanted. however, she also learned from her parents the importance of maintaining a pristine image. so, she partied and had her fun out of the public eye, or so she thought

at seventeen, isabella had her first coke scandal after pictures of her were leaked to the tabloids. it was like a rich kids right of passage. her parents were furious with her. for a moment, isabella felt hopeful. they were furious because they cared, right ? unfortunately for her, it wasn’t because of what she was doing. they were only angry she was stupid enough to get caught

isabella’s mother took care of cleaning up her image. after all, damage control is what she knew how to do best. isabella was forced to take a break from social media. according to the statement her family put out, she was under a lot of stress from running a social media empire at such a young age. as per her mother’s instructions, her social media blackout lasted a year. by the time she was back in the public eye, she had graduated high school and was started the next chapter of her life

however, the year she took away from social media was the most time she had ever spent with her parents. she was forced to stay with them so they could keep her from further tarnishing the perfect image they had created for themselves. during this time, she found out she hated her parents. they were cold, and completely emotionless

she felt alone most of the time. her friends were almost always fake, and so was she. she was always putting on a mask too, so it’d be unfair to even judge. but the only person she could ever trust was herself. except liam was different

she knew liam her whole life through familial connections, but she only got closer to him over recent years. he seemed to be the only person who could understand her. she started to confide in him with a lot of things. he made her feel less alone, a true friend. it was unlike anything she had ever experienced before and she wasn’t used to anyone genuinely caring. he would let her sleepover whenever she was going through something

his loss hit her hard. even though she tries to appear like she’s grieving his loss healthily, she isn’t. isabella has convinced herself she’s cursed, like his loss was her fault just because he was associated to her. like everything she touches falls apart. she kinda started using drugs again more heavily because of everything, where before she mainly only used in social settings

♡ . * 𝒑𝒆𝒓𝒔𝒐𝒏𝒂𝒍𝒊𝒕𝒚 !

isabella appears to be an extrovert on the surface. even though most of it is an act, she has a lively presence. she likes to be the life of the party and the center of attention, but when it comes down to it, it’s just part of the persona she puts on for others

she’s playfully flirty with almost everyone. it started as a way to manipulate people, but she also finds amusement in it now. to her, everything life is a game and she wants to win

she is always trying to manipulate people for her own selfish gain, however, she’s extremely careful to be lowkey about it so no one really knows. she appears to be very sincere and considerate of others. most people view her as harmless, which is exactly what she wants. she wants people to underestimate her

isabella can be quite full of herself. she obsesses over her appearance like 24/7 partially due to her social media presence. she won’t leave the house without looking presentable because she refuses to be spotted looking bad

but aside from obsessing over her looks, she also has a superiority complex. she thinks she’s better and smarter than most people, but she doesn’t show this side of herself too often

she loves to go out and be in the presence of strangers. she feels closer to them than to the people she actually knows. but it’s one of the reasons she loves parties so much. asksjhkjsh like that part in great gatsby where that girl was like large parties are much more intimate !!! that’s bella

her life is ultimately unfulfilling tho, because the way she masquerades around pretending to be one way just to use people for her own benefit has left her completely alone. she seeks real friendships and relationships deep down, but she does everything in her power to bury this side of herself. she also seeks validation but doesnt care enough about anyone’s opinions to ever receive it

♡ . * 𝒘𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒏𝒆𝒄𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔 !

partner in crime - someone who she can scheme with, someone who will play these little games with her, someone she has fun with

ex-lover - there could b more than one of these !!! they could have ended on bad terms or good terms, still have lingering feels or tension maybe they’re friends or maybe they just try to stay away from each other

unrequited crush - ur muse could have a crush on her and maybe she’s oblivious or maybe she uses it to her advantage. OR we’d have to plot this out well but maybe she has genuine feelings for your muse and doesn’t know what to do about it because this never really happens

requited feelings - speaks for itself, but our muses have feelings for each other. ik isabella would make things complicated just because it would be hard for her to accept that she actually cares about someone that isn’t herself

will they, won’t they - there’s tension between them, but nothing has ever come out of it yet. maybe something has almost happened, maybe they’ve kissed once, but either way the tension lingers in the air whenever they’re together

flirtationship - they flirt with each other constantly, but nothing has ever come from their flirting. maybe they have good chemistry, but haven't done anything about it and maybe they don’t want to. maybe they don’t want to ruin a good thing

current fling/friends w benefits - someone she is currently seeing. it’s most likely no strings attached, but maybe it’s someone she genuinely cares about as a friend

enemies w benefits - imagine the tension !!! they started out hating each other but ended up hooking up. maybe it was a one time thing, or maybe they can’t stop going back to each other. maybe they keep it a secret and don’t want anyone else to know. this could develop in soooo many ways pls this is so sexy !!!!

party buddies - they always go to parties together. maybe they don’t see each other outside of parties, maybe they met at a party and started hanging out more afterwards

drug / alcohol buddies - someone she gets fucked up with. maybe they’re not that close when they’re sober, but are way closer when under the influence

ex-friends - someone she used to consider a close friend, but they had a falling out for whatever reason n maybe they strongly dislike each other now, which means isabella is probably trying to plot their down fall

sibling-like friendship - someone she sees like a sibling. since she’s an only child, i’d love a friendship that feels like family

unlikely friends - a pair you wouldn't imagine would be ��friends, but for whatever reason, they get along well

cousins - they could get along well, or maybe there’s family drama that makes them hate each other

take care - someone who looks after her when she drinks to much !!! someone who keeps her out of trouble when she’s under the influence. she would probably feel extremely weird like when she’s sober bc someone taking care of her ??? feels fake 2 her

confidant - someone who confides in her or someone she confides in, or they confide in each other. they don’t necessarily have to be the closest friends ever, but they get along and maybe they talk more in private

rivals - they don’t like each other for whatever reason, which we can plot. maybe it’s jealousy or their personalities just clash, but for whatever reason they do not get along

frenemies - they’re great friends to each other’s faces, but when they’re not around each other, they act questionably

bad influence - someone she is a bad influence on. maybe she’s manipulating them, or just encourages them to do bad things and they listen to her for whatever reason

that’s everything !!! i’m soooo sorry this got a lil lengthy, it wasn’t my intention but also idk how 2 shut up AJKDSHDJH anyway i’m so excited to plot with u all and start interacting, so hit me up on discord or im’s or i’ll come to u <3

#♡ . * 𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒏 𝒍𝒐𝒐𝒏𝒂 ╱ ooc.#mytime; intro #im sorry this took me kinda long for no reason ADHSJDHD but im excited 2 be here <3 #also i didnt proof read so im sorry for any mistakes KJASJDHSJHD

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arcadialedger · 5 years

Text

As promised-- 100 things about admin

1. I am really, really short. 4′10 short.

2. Books are my favorite thing in the world-- I am a die hard bookworm, collect them endlessly, read about 3 a week.

3. I had spinal surgery for scoliosis and have Turner’s Syndrome, a chromosomal disorder

4. ASPIRING AUTHOR!

5. I’ve got big blue eyes

6. Harry Potter is one of the most important things in my life, and literally my childhood. It is my heart, and it is home.

7. I have lived in 10 different houses, because my family loves to move

8. I am a double major in English and Film Studies, hoping to be both an author and work as a creative executive for Walt Disney Animation Studios, or in publishing

9. Boston is my favorite city in America

10. I am very, very Italian- Sicilian. Ciao.

11. Overprotective cat mom, and crazy cat lady

12. I absolutely adore BBC/ PBS television, and anything British: including Victoria, Downton Abbey, Poldark, and more.

13. Astrological sign is Cancer (July 20th)

14. Lifelong Sherlock Holmes nerd. I adored Arthur Conan Doyle’s stories as a child and the friendship between Holmes and Watson is incredibly important to me.

15. Scholar and lover of all fairytales, folklore, myths, and legends.

16. Yo hablo español. ¿Alguien mas?

17. Language and linguistic studies fascinate me. I love both learning languages and language family trees. The story of history is written within them.

18. History buff and nerd.

19. Proud brunette who wishes she was ginger.

20. Youngest sibling of three girls.

21. I just realized I never said my name so hi, my name is Katie.

22. I am a die hard Whovian. Like, huge Doctor Who nerd.

23. INFJ, 4w3 personality.

24. Alongside Harry Potter I grew up with Percy Jackson, which I love wholeheartedly to this day. The nostalgia I feel with that series-- man.

25. My best friend is @shadowqueendiangelo and I love her. We’re platonically married.

26. I love film history and learning about film techniques.

27. Connoisseur of all period fashion.

28. I’m kind of obsessed with red lipstick.

29. Active member of the YA book community.

30. I’m a barista!

31. I am a barista because I love coffee and drink too much of it.

32. Only 19 but my mind is older.

33. Speaking of which, I am a theatre kid, and live for the stage.

34. I love Broadway and musicals.

35. Besides musicals/ Broadway, I was born and raised on country. I also love 80′s rock, and am an absolute classical nerd.

36. Beethoven and Tchaikovsky are my two favorite artists.

37. Shakespeare aficionado and lover.

38. Big Stranger Things fan and 80′s nostalgia junkie.

39. Would live in Victorian England if I could.

40. Proud Christian, of Catholic and Jewish ancestry.

41. Very, very pale.

42. I practically live in preppy dresses and skirts.

43. Self proclaimed hobbit, and LoTR fan/ Tolkien scholar.

44. I suffer from severe OCD.

45. I play the piano.

46. I used to do archery, and was very good. I hope to take it up again.

47. Lifelong New Englander.

48. My favorite color is blue.

49. Huge HTTYD fan-- like, ridiculously obsessed.

50. Jane Eyre is my favorite classic outside of Sherlock Holmes, as well as the works of Austen, The Odyssey/ The Illiad, Little Women Frankenstein, Anne of Greene Gables, Beowulf, The Great Gatsby, and Alice in Wonderland.

51. I LOVE GAME OF THRONES AND A SONG OF ICE AND FIRE.

52. ^Arya Stark is my GIRL^

53. Obsessed with Queen Victoria because she was a short, stout, brunette blue eyes woman like me.

54. I long to travel abroad, and have serious wanderlust

55. I am absolutely obsessed with not only history but culture. I considered going into cultural studies for a long time.

56. Secretly a wannabe historian.

57. I collect coffee mugs.

58. For a Christian I am oddly obsessed with everything pagan and absolutely love Halloween/ Salem culture (us New Englanders have the best Halloweens!)

59. I’m a sketcher and a cartographer!

60. Had a childhood obsession with Pixie Hollow Fairies. Still kind of do.

61. I AM A HUGE DISNERD! I want to work for Disney, and am super passionate about not only their animation, but the history of the company and the parks.

62. I am very passionate about animation as a whole. I adore foreign animation, and anything highly stylized which stretches the reaches of the art form.

63. Guillermo del Torro’s Pan’s Labyrinth is my favorite film, and GdT is one of the all time favorite creators.

64. Avid reader and lover of Agatha Christie.

65. Art museums are one of my favorite places on the planet. They’re cathartic to me, and help my anxiety.

65. I absolutely love the solar system, constellations, astronomy, and astrology.

66. I have a deep connection with the ocean. It is home to me. Not only do I just love everything nautical, I love old maps, seafaring tools, ship wheels and ropes. I’ve been on SO many ship tours it’s ridiculous. The sound of the ocean waves and an endless horizon before me is pure magic.

67. There are few things I adore more than a starry night sky.

68. Other favorite shows not yet mentioned include A Series of Unfortunate Events (first the books then the series), The Umbrella Academy, Merlin, Lost, Reign, Firefly, Battlestar Galactica, Broadchurch and Vikings.

69. Star Wars and MCU fan.

70. I am starting to run out of ideas for this.

71. Middle grade was my golden age of reading, and middle grade books will always have a very special place in my heart.

72. I can best be described as passionate, stubborn, sassy, caring, and complex.

73. I have an incredibly aggressive and confrontational personality. I have been frequently called a chihuahua.

74. I am half blind. My eyesight is awful, I need to update my glasses prescription yearly.

75. Right handed. Boring, I know.

76. I grew up playing soccer/ in a hardcore soccer family, and am now super passionate about fitness and working out. I work out 6 days a week and love it.

77. I love to sleep. Like, a lot.

78. I have to take Vitamin D supplements during the winter or I will pass out often.

79. Favorite foods include: pizza/ any Italian food, any seafood, eggs/ egg sandwiches, burgers, ribs, mac and cheese, dumplings, and grilled chicken. I also love anything corn (including corn bread and muffins), potatoes, and LOVE all fruit besides pineapple.

80. Speaking of which, if you put pineapple on pizza my Italian ass will COME FOR YOU.

81. Ungodly introverted, but also very outgoing and social.

82. I continue to go my therapist mostly because of her dog and she is well aware of this.

83. I just really love animals in general.

84. Koalas are my favorite animal.

85. I tend to stick to canon shipping, and I kind of hate fan fiction. Nothing against it, I just find it stupid.

86. One of my goals in life is to not only visit multiple countries on each continent, but to be at least trilingual.

87. I have crazy long eyelashes, and love to emphasize this with mascara. It’s one of the few features about myself I like.

88. Hopeless romantic who has never had a boyfriend and dreams of falling in love/ having a fairytale romance.

89. I have a stuffed Toothless gifted to me by my best friend-- I feel this is oddly important.

90. My favorite art form (as in literal art, drawing/ painting) is charcoals.

91. I have always felt I would be good at knife throwing and have wanted to learn.

92. Hermione Grander, Belle, Jane Eyre, Hiccup Haddock, Jo March, and Elizabeth Bennett are my heroes.

93. Nicknamed Angsty Yoda. (I really am an angsty Yoda).

94. I’m a big fan of ballets, operas, and arias.

95. I love school. A lot. It’s kind of my element.

96. My dream career (a writer) has stayed the same since I was 3 years old.

97. My favorite Disney animated film, is The Hunchback of Notre Dame. I also love The Lion King, Beauty and the Beast, The Little Mermaid, Tangled, Moana, Sleeping Beauty, Cinderella, Mulan and Hercules.

98. Favorite musicals include: The Hunchback of Notre Dame, Wicked, Les Mis, Into the Woods, Rent, Once on This Island, Phantom of the Opera, Hamilton, The Sound of Music, Anastasia, Hadestown, Bandstand, Cinderella, Singin’ in the Rain, Newsies, Finding Neverland, The King and I, Fiddler on the Roof, Miss Saigon, The Music Man, Beauty and the Beast, Something Rotten, Once, Jesus Christ Superstar, and Sweeney Todd.

99. I live for the deliciously dark and macabre (yet I hate horror?) Guillermo del Toro and Tim Burton are my favorite creators.

100. Friendship is the greatest love in my life, and what I firmly believe to be the most beautiful, raw, powerful, unconditional love in this world.

#tales of arcadia #guillermo del toro #netflix #admin post #admin #admin speaks #about me #learn about me #getting to know me #100 followers #100 facts about me #100 facts about admin #commanding daylight

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toomanyfeelings5 · 5 years

Text

the definitive ranking of pulp! the classics covers and summaries, from worst to best

(Note: Pride and Prejudice was not included in this list, as there were only poster and greeting card options for the work, and not an actual book or summary. Had a book and summary been provided, it would have ranked lowest for unoriginality. It’s literally just 1995 Colin Firth staring moodily at you. The caption is “Lock Up Your Daughters...Darcy’s in Town!” which is just unfortunate, frankly, and honestly laughable.)

16. Wuthering Heights by Emily Bronte

You take a novel that’s positively overflowing with drama and give it THIS cover? THIS summary? Absolutely uninspired.

Here’s looking at you Cathy...

Childhood sweethearts turned star-crossed lovers, fuelled by bitter jealousy and dark revenge. She’s pretty and posh, he’s a moody brooding bastard. Heartbreak, alcoholism and plenty of illegitimate kids – it’s a perfect Northern drama.

Where is the feeling? The screaming violins playing as we read? The moors? The time skips? A hint of the positively bonkers plot that only a Bronte could compose?

15. The Picture of Dorian Gray by Oscar Wilde

Oh, the heterosexuality of it all. On an Oscar Wilde novel, no less.

Hey girl...I’d sell my soul for you!”

Dorian Gray might be as pretty as a picture, but he's paid a devilishly high price for it. He'll stay drop-dead gorgeous, but there's something nasty festering in the attic...

Pretty as a picture and still lusting after ladies? Please. Pulp! Classics, you can do better.

14. The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald

Again, we must speak the ancient chant: Oh, the heterosexuality of it all.

When it came to loving...He knew which Daisy to pick!

Sorry old sport, but Gatsby has a bigger house than you, prettier friends than you and a Rolls Royce to cart them all round in. To a backdrop of popping champagne corks and orchestral jazz, our hero bids to buyout his old adversary, perennial jock, Tom Buchanan and reclaim Daisy, his favourite bit of High Society totty.

Nick Carraway gets not one mention, which is odd given that he’s the narrator, the protagonist, and Gatsby’s most ardent love interest. Also strange is the cover’s insistence that Jordan Baker, known lesbian, would swoon over Gatsby. Doubly strange is how tiny the women are in comparison to Gatsby’s massive frame. What is, again, bamboozling, is how the slogan on the cover seems to imply that Gatsby knows how to pick a woman. He doesn’t know how to choose anyone, let alone love them. All Gatsby truly knows is the desperate pursuit of a fruitless dream.

13. Romeo and Juliet by William Shakespeare

Romeo looks like he could be Juliet’s father. Juliet looks like an Upper East Side Widow, not at all like the tween girl she really is.

Too wild to live...too young to die!

Romeo, Romeo, wherefore art thou…. Oh wait, he’s hanging around in the garden again. Will young Romeo and his Juliet ever be able to express their raging hormones? Or will their feuding families make this romance blossom into a poisoned flower? Either way, both their houses are totally plagued!

“Wherefore” means “why,” not “where,” though I do have to award points to the summary for placing the blame squarely on the feud and not on these doomed young lovers. Though again, young isn’t the operative word I’d use to describe this version of Romeo and Juliet.

12. Robinson Crusoe by Daniel Defoe

This is what one would expect upon seeing a pulp cover of a classic novel. Not much originality or flair is present, but at least some sense of the story is conveyed.

Solitude was driving him nuts!

Cannibals! Captives! Coconuts!

One man’s love of the sea leaves him stranded on a desert island with nothing but a few goats, a bible and a parrot for company.

Will he ever escape? Will his new pal Friday learn to efficiently press a goatskin jerkin? Or will solitude send him totally barmy?

WILL Friday learn to efficiently press a goatskin jerkin? One must read to find out, I suppose...

11. Tess of the D'urbervilles

Marilyn Monroe?????

She’s...no angel.

The original Wessex girl!

Tess is just a humble milkmaid when the local landowner has his wicked way. Her new beau, the smarmy Angel Clare, is none too pleased when he finds out she’s already been deflowered. What is a girl to do? Bloody revenge of course, and an ending to touch the hardest of hearts.

At least the summary blames the terrible men in Tess’s life rather than Tess herself, unlike the tagline on the cover. And while Marilyn Monroe seductively lounging about with a drink doesn’t recall the faintest essence of Hardy’s novel, one would like to imagine Tess relaxing in whatever clothes she pleased, a straw dangling out of her drink, a smile on her face as she answers to no one and spends her quiet evening in solitude.

10. Three Men in a Boat by Jerome K. Jerome

An innocuous cover; the men’s faces hint at the comedic nature of this novel, and yet...something nags the brain upon looking at this.

To say nothing of the dog...

Incompetence, embarrassment and general disaster - no it’s not PMQs, it’s a trip down the Thames! Three hapless fellows and a world weary dog decide they need a holiday from their exhausting hypochondria. Hilarious mayhem ensues.

To say nothing of the dog indeed: Why does the dog on the cover have a human face?

9. The Metamorphosis by Franz Kafka

All one can say upon viewing this cover is: Jeff Goldblum, is that you?

Change really BUGGED him!

Poor old Gregor. One day he's depressed about his dreary travelling salesman gig, the next, he's roaching around the apartment and disgusting his family. All that's left is creeping the walls and eating garbage. How's his sis ever going to find a sugar daddy with her grotty bro in tow?

Gregor isn’t grotty, he’s our six-legged hero in this tragic tale.

And yet in the end, the question that haunts us all echoes in our minds in an unceasing echo: is that Jeff Goldblum?

8. Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland

Alice as a hippie is eye-catching, but not particularly creative.

This cupcake was off her head!

What HAS happened to little Alice? Taking 'shrooms, hanging out with hookah smoking ne'er-do-wells and being dragged to court. That's gonna be one hell of a hangover!

As much as I’m intrigued by Alice wearing heart-shaped sunglasses and a peace sign necklace, the summary and the cover consist of one joke and one joke only.

7. The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde

I just like how Dr. Jekyll in this cover looks equally as fucked up as Mr. Hyde.

No more Mr. Nice Guy... There’s a sinister man about London town with something of the night about him. Mr Hyde is mad, bad and has a penchant for bumping off MPs and other kindly innocents. Will his friend Dr Jekyll be able to stop him? Or is there something more to their relationship than meets the eye…? Only the intrepid Utterson can get to the bottom of this mystery, but what will he find in Dr Jekyll’s lab?

Points to this summary for including Mr. Utterson, and for insinuating that Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde may be clandestine lovers.

6. A Christmas Carol by Charles Dickens

Ladies, gentlemen, and otherwise, don’t we love it when a greedy rich man gets bludgeoned by a mace into being more generous and kindly towards others?

This cat was a drag....’til a midnight wake-up call...

Christmas?! What a load of Humbug. Mistletoe and Wine just don't do it for Scrooge; he's a workaholic miser with an attitude problem. If he doesn't change his ways, he'll end up with no friends and Tiny Tim won't last the year. Let's hope some spooky night-time visitors can put the jingle back in his bells!

Ring-a-ling-a-ling, Mr. Scrooge. The mace is raised and the bells are ringing.

5. Heart of Darkness by Joseph Conrad

The tag-line made me, as the youths say, laugh out loud.

Whoops! Apocalypse....

The horror! The horror!

Kurtz might be the apple of every brutish imperialist’s eye, but his God complex is getting wildly out of hand in the depths of the jungle. What on earth will Marlow find when he finally gets downriver? Devil worship? Savages? Heads on sticks? Or just another nutty white man with his knickers in a twist?

Surprisingly anti-racist summary made this jump to the higher echelons of this esteemed list, though of course that doesn’t excuse this novel’s abhorrent and embarrassing fake-deep racism. It also must be noted that the tag-line should have been “Whoops! White supremacy!” and the text of the novel should have entirely consisted of Chinua Achebe’s essay on the work.

4. The Hounds of Baskerville by Arthur Conan Doyle

The cover alone is a winner. A rabid chihuahua out for blood? Inspired.

Murder...Mystery...Walkies!

A desolate moor, a diabolical dog in need of a muzzle and some inbred locals; Sherlock Holmes is really up against it. With the help of his trusty sidekick Dr. Watson, Holmes pieces together a mystery that has captured the imagination of readers across the decades. All whilst practising a serious coffee and cocaine habit.

The tag-line is fun and catchy, but sadly this summary must be admonished for insisting that Dr. Watson is merely a “trusty sidekick” to Sherlock Holmes. Heterosexuality strikes again, reducing the impact of the striking cover design.

3. Dubliners by James Joyce

Finally! Some style, some panache, some flair to accompany these short stories about being sad and horny in Ireland.

Stuck in the Liffey with you...

Booze, Sex and Hot Floury Potatoes… Those Dubliners are at it again!

Liars, thieves, whores and priests… James Joyce sure knew how to throw a party! This relentlessly downbeat collection explores the very worst aspects of human nature, and doesn’t leave out the juicy bits. It might not be in the best possible taste, but who doesn’t want to get down and dirty in Dublin?

The summary and cover work in tandem to wholeheartedly convince me that Dubliners is an action-packed, slick collection of stories detailing the wild escapades of a motley cast of ragamuffins, and I gotta hand it to the folks over at Pulp! Classics for injecting some bonafide vintage cool into Joyce’s work.

2. Othello by William Shakespeare

I have so many thoughts on this. Mr. T. as Othello is fascinating, as is the tagline, “Some kind of Bard...aaaaasss.” Is this a commentary on blaxploitation media? One can’t help but recall Mr. T.’s reasoning behind his mohawk, his gold chains, to honor his ancestors and assert his living, unshakable humanity in a racist society. Is this is a genuine effort on the part of Pulp! Classics to imply that a blaxploitation-influenced adaptation of Othello could reveal deeper truths to the play that we have had yet to glimpse?

Some kind of Bard... aaaasss

He’s a bardass brother with the love of a fine woman. That is until some cloven hoofed honky starts talking crazy about variously hued sheep tupping the hell outta each other! You gotta pity the fool who gets shafted by the green eyed monster. Let’s hope Othello can work out who to trust before it’s too late…

The fast-paced alliterative language of the summary harkens to Shakespeare’s own wit-fueled dialogue and penchant for creative language. The summary also calls Iago a devil, which is apt, and implicitly criticizes his racism, hinting at the play’s greater tragedies to come. The cover and summary also work in tandem to emphasize Othello’s jealousy and destruction: the “green-eyed monster” is mentioned, and the cover itself is a putrid green. An excellent example of what a vintage cover and summary can achieve.

1. Frankenstein by Mary Shelly

You all knew this was coming.

This kid was born on the wrong side of the lab...

Frankenstein’s monster is on the rampage; terrorising the locals, unleashing murderous hell… and reading novels in his spare time. Can his petrified creator stop this reign of horror before his girlfriend gets the chop?

A James Dean-inspired creature, thereby making them a queer icon? Masterful. The creature being “born on the wrong side of the lab?” A stroke of genius; that they’re called a kid puts the poignancy of the monster’s plight into even greater relief, while simultaneously emphasizing their tragic charm. The clear distinction between Frankenstein and the creature? Reader, I exhaled in a cathartic release of tension. The loving detail that the creature reads novels in their spare time, like any other leather-jacket wearing, motorcycle-riding ruffian with a heart of gold? Beautiful.

Truly, the obvious queer energy of this cover and summary highlights an overlooked dimension of Shelly’s great work while also paying homage to what draws us to this Modern Prometheus time after time. Do we care about the petrified creator in this summary? Not at all. He’s not on the cover, appearing both rebellious and gentle. We are here for the creature, in their leather jacket, on their motorcycle, novel sticking out of a back pocket on their jeans, ready to whisk us away to a place where even monsters like us can find solace, and be at peace, and commune with each other. We need only take their outstretched hand, and be willing to leave the mundane world for something better, for the chance to no longer be alone.

#books #art #classic works #i'm going to purchase a copy of that frankenstein cover and no one will stop me

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angelynrostrand · 5 years

Text

Chapter 4

Summary: To the outside world, nothing should connect shy girl Angel Monroe and popular boy Xavier Hazelwood. But that isn't entirely true. They both hold secrets. Behind both of them lie 2 separate wolf packs. Xavier is well on his way to Alpha status and running the pack. Angel is not a wolf but instead the last healer in the world. When the realization comes forward that they are connected by destiny, will they decide to fulfill it? Is their connection predetermined by fate or will they choose their hearts? Lives and packs cross and mingle while romance and conflict brews. The story of 2 opposite souls on a collision path. Will destiny win out? Even the most innocent face, has the darkest secrets.

Word Count: 2,176

Warnings: None for now

On the weekends, I normally clean, study, and watch "The Golden Girls". But this weekend is different. I have planned to meet Xavier at his house to help him with English. I tell my father I am going to tutor a student. Which is not a lie, but he thinks it's a freshman and not Xavier. I just let him think it is a freshman to keep his mind at ease. I do have to use my personal driver to meet him at his house. My father assigned one to me years ago, but I always like to travel in style with my bike. His house, unfortunately, is too far and too deep into the forest to travel on a bike.

"Sebastian thank you for driving me. I'll call you when I am done."

"Of course, Miss Monroe." He opens my door and allows me to hop out of the black vehicle with tinted windows.

I walk up to the gate. "I am here for Xavier Hazelwood." The gatekeeper opens the gates for me and I thank him for it. I knock on his door and wait patiently for someone to answer. Then I see Xavier's mom. "Hello, Luna Hazelwood. I am here to tutor Xavier."

She welcomes me in a hug. At first, I am a little bit surprised, but her motherly scent is so warm, I let the hug last a little bit longer.

"Please call me May and please come in." I step in and see a grand staircase in the middle of the house. "I'll tell Xavier you are here, but please sit and wait in here." She slides the double doors that reveal an empty dining room with a long table. She leaves the room. I place my school bag and books on the table. I look around and can see photos of Xavier as a child and his family. Also members of their pack. I just keep on smiling at the old photos.

"I see you spotted some of my famous baby pictures." Xavier stands next to me and we both keep our eyes on the photos.

"I like your overalls." I gesture to a picture of Xavier in overalls with a teddy bear on the shorts. "You are so cute....what happened?" I joke with him trying to break the ice. I look up at him and wait for a response.

"Would do you mean? I am still cute!... Is it because I am hot now?" I just roll my eyes. I kinda want to knock his ego down a peg.

"Are you ready to study?" I walk over the table with Xavier following behind me. I open my books and notes. "Are you in regular English?"

"Yes. We all can't be a genius and be in English Honors"

"So...What book are you guys currently reading?"

"Well, for our last assignment we choose our book and do a paper on it." He pulls out his English binder with the requirements for his assignment. "I am doing "The Great Gatsby".

"Good choice. How do you feel about it so far? Are you almost done with it?" I notice his bookmark is more than halfway through.

"I have a couple more chapters but I actually like it. Even though I hate Tom and Daisy. They are so..."

"...evil, arrogant, snobby, cheaters?"

"I was going to say mean but that works too," and once again I can’t help but notice his perfect smile with a cute dimple on the side of his cheek. Plus he does look hotter with a book in his hand. "Also I can't believe Myrtle dies. What a plot twist." I giggle and try to hold in my laughter.

"What?"

"That's not the plot twist."

"What? There is more? What happens?"

I just shove the book closer to him. "Read it and tell me what happens." I smile. Our tutor session becomes more of a study session. He knows what to do. There are times he asks me questions just to make sure. I use this time to do my own homework. In the middle of the session, Xavier's mother comes in with a plate of fruit.

"Hey, thought you guys might need a little break." She places the fruit on the table with the papers and books scattered all around us.

"Thank you, Luna Hazel," I almost forget to call her by her first name. "May. Thank you, May."

"Thanks, mom" May leaves us again.

"You looks so much like your mom. She is pretty."

"Ya, I get that a lot. She is a strong woman. So, I'll take that as a compliment. She was born in Singapore and then her pack was attacked. They destroyed her community and she was forced to run and hide for a while until she made it to the U.S. She fought like hell to stay alive and she found my dad. He helped with her recovery. They fell in love and lived happily. That's why I want to make them proud. They sacrificed so much for me and I can only repay them with my words and actions."

"Thank you for telling me that. I didn't think you would be so open about something so personal."

"I am just comfortable with you. In the end, we have connected souls. It is easy for me to talk to you and be open with you." He is right. He can tell his truth but I can not. He trusted me and I am a coward for not doing the same.

He places his hand over mine. I looked at our hands then back at him. It looks like he is about to lean in to maybe kiss me. Without stressing out, I pull the book in between us. "Xavier, I think Gatsby is waiting for you," I whisper and pull back.

The rest of our study session continues to go smoothly with more stories and jokes. Xavier continues to be his flirty self. After a while my hair is bothering me, so I use my hair tie around my wrist to put it up. Now I can really focus on my homework with my hair out of the way.

"Oh my God Angel, what is that?" Xavier sounds worried and also angry. He points at my exposed back.

I look as much as I can. It is a bruised from when Rebecca pushed me in that billboard. It is around my shoulder blade. I whine a little when I touch it. "I fell yesterday and I guess it just developed into a bruised. Can I use a bathroom or something to see.." I point at my back.

"Ya, come with me." He holds out his hand. I gratefully take it. We walk hand in hand upstairs to the nearest bathroom. He opens the door for me. He leans against the door frame as I turn around to see my bruised back. I can clearly see some minor scratches and brownish-purple bruises.

"Well, it's not that bad...'

"Are you kidding me? It looks like you were kicked in the back." I touch it again and whine. "Here let me." He helped me to sit on the long bathroom counter. He pulls the first aid kit from under the cabinet. I turn around facing the mirror and my back against him."Sorry, it might sting." He gently moves my hair to the side and starts to put ointment on it.

I did arch my back a little from the sting. I looked at him through the mirror he looks frustrated. "What's wrong?"

"I don't like seeing people in pain, especially you." He puts a large band-aid over my cuts. "Angel, what happened? And please don't lie to me."

I sigh deeply. He is right, I can't lie to him. He trusted me, I should try to do the same. I turn around to face him."The day when you asked me if I wanted a ride, I know I was very distant. That's because I was hurt. A couple of girls in the bathroom were a little aggressive. One of them was upset and she did push me and I fell against a billboard. I guess I didn't think it would get worse."

"Angel who was it? Who did this?" He looks really angry now.

"Xavier you can't do anything about it. Don't get angry." I hop off the counter, but I am still stuck between Xavier and the counter.

"Of course I am angry someone hurt you, my mate!" His eyes seem to grow darker.

"Xavier calm down. You can't do anything. They are just high school, human girls. They are human...we can't do anything." I reach for his arm and slide my hand to his hand. "So don't do anything."

"I'm sorry" He finally calms down.

"I should get going. It's almost 5 and I bet my pack is wondering where I am at."

"I'll drive you back home."

"Thanks." After cleaning up our mess at the dinner table, we make our way to his black jeep. I text my driver that I don't need a ride anymore. The drive was quiet and long. I knew it was a bad idea for me to have accepted this tutoring job. I have become too close to him and I don't want to hurt him if he ever finds out about the real me. I look over at him. He also looks like he has a lot on his mind. He would be a wonderful mate to be with. But I don't want to be too attached to someone who I can not be with. It will only hurt more for both of us. "Turn right and continue going straight then we will be there."

"Okay, I remember from last time. "

"What are you thinking about?"

"Even though I am mad about you not giving me the names of those girls, I never thought I could enjoy doing homework. You make things better. I want to get to know you and I want to be with you." He parked his jeep in front of my gate.

I pull back a little from the shock and totally ignore this comment. "Xavier don't forget to finish the book." I unbuckle my seatbelt. "Tell me when you do. I want to know your thoughts about it. Goodnight Xavier."

"Wait, what are you doing tomorrow?"

"I have some stuff to do." Practicing and training to control my powers. "I need to go and make dinner before they starve to death." He laughs and I am glad I am able to make him laugh again. "If it is not too much, text me when you get home. Just to make sure you get home safe." I do care about him, but he doesn't need to know about that just yet.

"Are you worried about me? Fine, I will. Have a good night, Angel."

"Night, Xavier." I hop out of the car. While I enter the pin to open the gates and wait for it to open, I turn around to wave him goodbye.

I made my famous arroz con pollo. It was mom's favorite meal to make for dad. Dad always misses mom's Mexican cooking. So I took it upon myself to make it just like my mom from her recipe book. I usually make more for the guards, maids and for anyone who is working the night shift. There are always people around my house protecting the Alpha family.

I look at my phone to see a missed text from Xavier saying he made it home safe. I smile thinking about how funny it is to spend time with him. Then the maids brought me back to reality. "Miss, please let us clean up. You did all the cooking."

"Are you sure? I don't mind." Darcy an older maid starts to push me out of the kitchen.

"No go have fun. Be a teenager." She shoves me out of the door. I guess I can go to bed early. So much fun.

I text back Xavier: Good, so you didn't get attacked by a bear?

While I waiting for his reply. I put on a face mask with my red bandana to pull my hair out of my face.

Xavier: No sorry to disappoint.

I have some Disney movie in the background for background noise.

Angel: Well that's ok. My money was on the bear.

Xavier: That's rude. You wouldn't want to bet on the bear. I can totally win.

Angel: I am just kidding. Plus, I wouldn't want you to get hurt.

Xavier: That sounds familiar to when I said the same thing when I saw the bruise. How is it now?

Angel: It's much better to thank you, Dr. Hazelwood.

Is he being a little sarcastic with me?

Xavier: I have to get going, but hopefully I'll see you at school. Goodnight love.

Angel: I'll see you later. Goodnight.

I went to bed with a smile on my face. I am starting to fall for Xavier and I am scared.

#in an ordinary world #healer #soulmates #writing #werewolf #wolf pack

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bring-loki-back · 6 years

Text

The Promised Fountain-Fic

Loki had been on Earth now for 3 weeks, 5 days, 16 hours, and—he checks his watch—42 minutes and 29 seconds. He looks out over the twilit skyline of Manhattan; for a Midgardian city, he must admit, it has a sort of chaotic beauty to it… his favorite sort. He wonders how it would look if the Chitauri hadn’t descended upon it: that building over there looks familiar, perhaps that was the one I flew through two sets of windows in? And that gap there… yes, I’m almost certain there was a monstrosity of a skyscraper there. He smiles faintly, what an unexpected gift he gave to the Midgardians: to make their city the glory that it is.

He is broken from his reverie as Thor opens the door, “Brother, the revelries will begin soon. We should be off.” Thor looks out of place in his gold and red armor, the muted blue light of the hotel room doing no justice to the recreation of Asgardian armor.

“Yes, yes. But wouldn’t it be fitting for us to be fashionably late? The belles of the ball?” Loki deftly fastens his cuff links, “And have you never heard of knocking, brother?”

Thor smiles, “What can I say? We were clearly raised by the same people,” he begins to close the door again, “Five minutes, Loki. We’ll be entering with the rest of the team.”

“Clearly, indeed.” Loki echoes quietly as the door clicks shut. Stark had put them up in this apparently honored lodging—the Plaza, it was called. He finds it lacking in handmaidens. Still, as he joins his brother in the hall, Loki can’t deny that it is good to be respected… finally.

The party is the talk of the town, or the world, Loki supposes. The finest surviving people are in attendance, they tell him-- leaders of the world, famous actors and scientists and artists. Diamonds seem to encrust every surface above the lush red carpet and beneath the high vaulted ceilings. Most of the attention he personally receives throughout the night falls into three categories: one, reporters looking for a story on the villain-turned-hero, two, wary thanks, and, curiously enough, three, near fanatical affection. The latter group is the smallest and seems to be composed of mostly young women. Not a bad demographic… and dogmatic enough to be considered an army. Loki shakes his head: not the time.

“It would do Asgard proud, yeah?” Barton says, standing stiffly a few feet away from Loki.

Loki looks the man up and down. He remembers this one, and though he doesn’t particularly want to remember what he’d done to him. He pushes off the bar where he is leaning. “Quite,” he says as he takes his drink and slips quietly into the crowd, dodging around the clusters of people.

Eventually, he finds his way to a great column by on the side of the crush. He has yet to venture to the food tables, which do look exquisite. He touches his throat absentmindedly—it’s a tick he has picked up in the weeks following the battle. After—

“Hey Loki! Or is it Mr. Loki?” He turns to see the boy—Parker Peter, or something like that. The arachnid one—bouncing up the marble stairs, “Mr. Odinson?”

“Loki is fine.” He takes a sip of his martini, “You fought well.”

“Thanks!” the boy’s eyes shine, “You too! Er—I mean, not that I can judge or—”

“I’m honored to have your approval,” Loki doesn’t try to hide his amusement. The boy had proved himself in battle, but it appears his prowess in charisma had room for improvement—much like Loki’s brother.

The spider-boy rubs the back of his head, “You know, this party reminds me of this really old book I read—The Great Gatsby—but I bet they didn’t have chocolate fountains there.”

Loki chuckles, “No I don’t suppose we don’t. Did this book also happen to have fairies?”

Parker—Porter? Parkour?—the child gives him a weird look, “No… it was, like, real world stuff, just back in the 20’s.”

Loki pretends to know what “the 20’s” means and goes on sipping his drink, “And yet it had a chocolate fountain? Perhaps your librarian should learn to differentiate between fiction and non-fiction,” he says absentmindedly.

“Uh… what? Are we talking about the same thing?” he pauses a moment, “you do know chocolate fountains are real, right?”

Ah, the fantasy of youth, “Of course they are.”

“No, Loki, I’m like 100% serious. There’s one over there,” he points toward the end of the food table.

For a moment, Loki ignores him. Then, following his finger, he sees the shine of the chandeliers reflected off something glassy and brown. He looks suspiciously at Parkson and back at the object in question, then dismisses his glass in a shimmer of green and steps down into the crowd.

“Whoa! Did you just—” The voice is lost as Loki dodges between patrons, making his way to the other side of the hall.

A moment later, he hears Stark shout from a few yards over, “Peter! I said no webs at the gala!”

“Sorry Mr. Stark!” The boy—Peter—drops beside him, “Mr. Stark told me I couldn’t use my powers here, but you move so fast and you’re dressed like everybody else here so I—”

Loki stops and rolls his eyes, “If you really must accompany me, then lead me to you mystical fountain.”

“Ok!” Peter weaves through the crowd nearly faster than Loki can follow, finally breaking free before the food table.

Loki’s eyes go wide. There it is, cascading streams of smooth molten chocolate tripping and tumbling over three tiers of fountain and gathering in a pool at the bottom. He moves forward, hardly daring to believe what is in front of him, “By the Nine Realms…”

“You okay, Loki? I—okay,” Peter cuts off as Loki puts out a hand to stop him. The fountain is surrounded by plates of treats—strawberries, pineapple, shortcake, cookies, some sort of soft white squares—Loki flicks his hand and stiletto knife appears. Some woman beside him yelps and scrambles back, but he ignores her. He moves with one purpose and one purpose only. He skillfully skewers a strawberry and pokes it into the falls of decadent chocolate, its dripping, sweet juice disappearing behind the wall. Slowly, as if afraid it might vanish, he draws the fruit out and pops it in his mouth.

Loki closes his eyes and savors the sweet burst of flavor over his tongue: the layers of already-hardening chocolate and sugary firm fruit flesh. In all his years, on and off Asgard, He has never tasted—never imagined—anything so sublime. Even the desserts at the parties of his youth didn’t come close to touching this nectar. How did the Midgardians manage such a feat?

The voice of the child threatens to draw him back to the present, “Yeah, they’re good aren’t they.” Loki ignores him a skewers sweet morsel after morsel, until a deep voice sounds behind him, “You know you’re not allowed to have weapons in here, right, brother?”

Loki wheels around, the fury blazing in his eyes strong enough that Peter steps back, “When we were children, you told me these didn’t exist!” He brandished dripping, chocolatey knife toward Thor, but has the sense to dismiss it when people begin to take note.

“Easy, brother. It was only a joke. After all, you played enough of them on me.”

“I was five!”

“I was eight when you turned into a snake and bit me.”

“I cried for two days!” In the back of his mind, Loki hears Peter snort behind him.

“Yes, I remember,” Thor smiles, “Frigga tried to turn you into a kitten so you would be less annoying, but you kept changing back. That was when you started to come into your powers, unfortunately for me.” Loki tries, but can’t help but smile back at his big oafish brother. “Come now Loki, let us feast together.”

“Can I come?” Peter asks.

“Man of Spiders, I believe the convoy from Wakanda just arrived. You should go find Shuri.”

Thor turns back to Loki just in time to get a chocolate covered marshmallow stuck to his forehead, “There. I suppose we can call it even now,” Loki says smugly and Thor laughs a great booming laugh.

@talinalani @doctor-disc0 @luisaskywalker @ladyofalake

#loki #team bring loki back #loki's army #justice for loki #thor #thor odinson #loki odinson #loki laufeyson #peter parker #spiderman #fanfic #one shot #marvel #marvel fanfiction #mcu #infinity war #avengers #loki x chocolate fountain

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