It is absolutely baffling to me when anti-choice people bemoan poor people having children.
If you’re going to complain that people shouldn’t have kids if they can’t afford kids then you absolutely have to be aggressively pro access to affordable birth control and you have to be aggressively pro affordable health care. You have to be anti-ableism and anti-classism and anti-capitalist. You don’t get to judge people living in poverty for having children while literally supporting every system that keeps them in poverty.
Happiness is allowing yourself to be okay with what is, rather than wishing for, and bemoaning, what is not. Obviously, what is is what is supposed to be, or it would not be. The rest is just you, arguing with life.
We think of Geralt as being the broken one; the mentally damaged one. He constantly bemoans the fact that he’s a mutant, unfeeling, emotionless, just a mechanical killing machine that society has the right to use up and discard once it has fulfilled its purpose and slain the monster. Throughout many of the stories, Geralt is told that because he’s a Witcher, he either is incapable of feeling emotions, or that he’s not allowed to feel whatever emotions he is capable of. We also think of Yennefer (or Triss, if you prefer) as being the thing that “fixes” him; who teaches him how to love.
The beautiful thing about Geralt and Yennefer’s relationship however, and one of the reasons I prefer it to whatever relationship he might ever have with Triss, is that it isn’t purely one-way. Yennefer doesn’t “fix” Geralt and that’s the end of it; he “fixes” her in an equally meaningful way. For as much as Geralt doesn’t believe he is capable of loving anyone, Yennefer begins the saga equally determined that she is incapable of being loved by anyone. Between being an unwanted baby, abused to the point of physical deformity (Yennefer was not born a hunchback, she became one by being beaten so badly), eventually being abandoned and saved by Tissaia de Vries, and then subsequently being told by her newfound mistress and idol that a sorceress must be aloof, cold, and strong (“Starting now you will never cry. There is nothing more pathetic than a sorceress in tears.”), the Yennefer we meet in the early stories, such as A Shard of Ice, truly believes that she is the Ice Queen the legends in Aedd Gynvael talk about. She believes she is this wanton, chaotic, destructive force of nature who is destined to destroy the lives of anyone she gets involved with, and she believes it because it keeps happening to her. She doesn’t believe she is capable of being loved, and so she feels no remorse for stringing Geralt or Istredd or any other man who claims to love her along and cheating on them because she thinks they are lying to her and to themselves about loving her. It becomes a self-fulfilling prophecy; she doesn’t believe she can be loved, and so she tries to ruin anyone who attempts to love her, thus proving her own point.
A Shard of Ice is where we learn that Yennefer thinks like this, and it makes her all the more tragic of a character. Geralt isn’t the only one with his own mental demons here. Yennefer’s beliefs about herself are equally self-destructive, and it is their eventual union which “fixes” them both. Geralt learns from Yennefer that he is capable of feeling love, and, in turn, Yennefer equally learns from Geralt than she is capable of being loved. Geralt and Yennefer are partners in a way many fictional relationships don’t depict. They are equals, who both learn from one another, plot with and, sometimes, against one another, and both grow together as characters in equally meaningful ways.
People talk about disliking Yennefer in Witcher 3 because she’s too forceful or assertive, usually just simplifying it to calling her “bitchy.” I don’t look at Yennefer that way though. She is an individual with her own agenda and her own ideas of how to achieve what she wants. Unlike Triss, for example, who usually just goes along with whatever Geralt says and meekly waits for the protagonist to tell her what to do, Yennefer is capable of making decisions and getting results on her own. The thing that I like the most about Yennefer as a character is that she is her own person. She isn’t Geralt’s #2, she is Geralt’s partner.
There’s this absolutely hilarious post on how men authors write women and while it’s very on-point, it forgets one detail. What happens when men have to include in their narration women who aren’t beautiful?
I’ve lost track of the number of ‘great classics’ I hurled across the room with a snarl, after the author started bemoaning the fact that their character had to interact with an ‘unattractive woman.’ Often it wasn’t even about interaction – it was enough for an unattractive woman to be in their field of view for the mental japes and the cruelty and the entitled huffiness to come out. How dare she go and be a blemish on the scenery!
Many years ago, when I was fifteen years old and I’d been spat in the face by an adult man in public, in the middle of the street (after he’d gone ‘damn, you’re ugly!’) I ran home, choking back rage and tears and buried myself in a book, to escape from all of that. I was unlucky, because several hours later I ran into a section where the author was disdainfully describing an ‘ugly woman’ and I remember just seeing black in front of my eyes. I launched the book right at the wall and let out such a howl that I scared my father half to death! It took him an hour to help me calm down and I remember asking him, through the tears, ‘is there even a place where I can ever escape all of this?’
Prompt: In which Y/N has feelings for an oblivious Lin. Told in interconnected time-lapses.
Pairing: Lin x Reader
A way to a man’s heart is through his stomach.
“Hey! That’s not for you!”
Groff freezes, the cupcake halfway in his mouth. “Wha?” he mumbles, blinking owlishly at you.
You stomp into the dressing room, closing the white pastry box containing the cupcakes that you’ve spent all of last night baking. A couple nights ago, Lin was bemoaning the fact that his favorite bakery had closed down for the week. He was boasting about their cupcakes and how it was the best thing he’s ever tasted. Being the love-struck fool you were, you decided to give your dear mother a call and ask for the red velvet cupcake recipe that she was known for. You made everything from scratch, meticulously following the recipe that your mother had given to you.
Groff rolls his eyes once he realizes what you meant. “Why don’t you just tell him?” he hums, grinning as his gaze shifted onto something over your shoulder.
“Tell who what?”
Lin’s voice fills the air, causing you to squeak and spin around to face him.
“Nothing,” you remark, causing Groff to snicker behind you.
“Y/N made cupcakes just for you,” Groff announces, brushing past you as he left the room, finishing off the cupcake he stole from the box.
You gulp as Lin peers at the cupcakes.
“Y-You made this for me, Y/N?” he asks.
“Yeah,” you admitted, watching his face for a reaction.
“Wow, thank you,” he breathes, surprised. “You didn’t have to.”
“It’s alright, I wanted to,” you reply, locking eyes with him. You silently begged him to ask you why you did it for him. Then perhaps, you’d finally have the courage to confess your feelings for the thick-skinned man that stood in front of you.
For the last six months, your attraction towards Lin had grown exponentially. He was just so full of life, laughter, and love. You didn’t even think such a person could exist! You thought it was all some type of facade, that there was no way that someone could be so genuine with all the exposure that he’s gotten from Hamilton. But time and time again, he’s proved you wrong. And each time, you felt yourself give a little piece of your heart to him, regardless of his acceptance or denial of it.
You were smitten and it was so painstakingly apparent for everyone else except for Lin himself. You were never the best with words, but you weren’t shy either. You hoped that giving extra and special attention to Lin would at least give him a hint. But no, being the pure-hearted being he was, he didn’t.
Or maybe he did know but didn’t feel the same way. He was too damn nice to turn you down. The thought made you sad, but you couldn’t control a person’s feelings. You completely understood that, remembering your failed attempt to bottle up your feelings for Lin. However, if he did verbally let you down, maybe you’d finally be able to move forward and let go.
“O-Oh… Well thank you,” he says after a pause. His eyes dart back to the box, effectively breaking eye contact with you and making the atmosphere awkward.
With a small sigh, you turn to walk out of his dressing room. “Let me know how you like them,” you call over your shoulder before you leave, the feeling of rejection wash over you.
A way to a man’s heart is to make room for his friends.
The chorus of your name brings a smile to your face. You squeezed into the booth next to Groff, who gives you a sloppy kiss on your cheek. You wipe it away dramatically, but then give him a tight hug. Tonight was your weekly date night with the ensemble, the Hors d'oeuvres and drinks scattered all over the table was a familiar sight.
You had to admit, you didn’t expect to become fast friends with anyone. You were just an Usher for the Richard Rodgers Theatre, a part-time job that helped you pocket extra money at the end of the month. One day, Lin ordered catering for the theatre personnel as a show of thanks for allowing him to remove guests that decided to record the performance during the show. Surprisingly, he emerged from backstage and joined the staff for lunch. You nearly dropped the sandwich you were holding when he plopped down on the seat next to you, star struck that the genius behind the show was actually talking to you.
Slowly, the rest of the ensemble began to trickle in, joining everyone else for lunch. You had an instant connection with Groff, adoring his teasing yet friendly behavior. Both he and Lin introduced you to everyone else and then the rest was history…
You looked around the table, smiling at the faces you’ve come to love and consider as your second family.
Anthony, who noticed and misinterpreted the gesture, gave you a sly look. “Don’t worry, Lin’s on his way, Y/N.”
Everyone who sat at the table roared with laughter.
As if on cue, Lin appeared. You pushed Groff closer to Leslie and ignored the knowing looks that they both shot you. You notice that he wavers, eyeing the space next to Chris who sat opposite of you, before succumbing and finally sitting down next to you.
Seeing him hesitate dampened your mood. Maybe he really was too nice to reject you.
You glance at Anthony, who raised his glass, tipped it towards you, and winked.
You couldn’t help but feel better at his pained yelp when you kicked him under the table.
A way to a man’s heart is to make space for his family.
A middle-aged man stood in the gift shop of the theatre, pondering on whether not to buy the mugs on the table.
You glanced at your watch. It was almost time for the show to begin and you’d hate for him to miss the memorable introduction that King George III had. You walked up to him, offering him a kind smile when he looked at you. “Good evening. The show is about to start, so if you’d like, I can show you your seat.”
The man, who had shoulder length silvery-white hair, inspected your nametag, before nodding in agreement. You lead him to his seat, and then assume your position at the back of the theatre, allowing yourself to enjoy the show.
Three and a half hours later, you run into the man backstage. “Oh, hello!” you greet, waving at him. “Did you enjoy the show?”
“Yes, very much. I’m very proud of Lin,” he says, smiling.
You couldn’t help but tilt your head, observing his smile. You’ve seen that smile before. And his voice, it was strangely familiar. It reminded you of…
“Papa!” Lin swoops in, enveloping his father in a hug.
Then it clicks.
You inwardly gasp.
His father! It was Lin’s father.
“Oh! Mr. Miranda!” you exclaim, feeling heat spread across your cheeks for not noticing the resemblances earlier.
Lin pulls back from his father and looks at you with a quirked brow. “You’ve met?”
You sheepishly laugh. “I thought he was a normal theatre-goer, so I showed him to his seat,” you mumble.
Luis laughs, the booming sound startling you. “I’ve heard a lot about you, Y/N.”
You and Lin sputter at the same time.
Luis ignores the both of you and instead pushes the still stammering Lin to stand next to you. He lifts his phone and snaps a quick picture.
“Papa,” Lin warns before saying something in Spanish.
Luis rolls his eyes and motions the two of you to stand closer. “Say cheese,” he sings.
Bewildered, you follow his command. Lin does the same.
After the picture, the two men have a conversation in rapid Spanish, causing your head to spin. Lin’s voice had a desperate tone to it. Meanwhile, Luis seemed amused.
“If you’d excuse us, Y/N,” Lin sighed, exasperated, before wrapping an arm around his father’s shoulders and leading him towards the stage.
Luis struggles in his son’s arms as he turns around to say something to you. “It was nice to finally meet you, Y/N!”
A way to a man’s heart is to show vulnerability.
Anthony insisted on going to a new bar he discovered for the date night with the cast and crew.
Everyone, yourself included, approved of the choice. Unlike most bars, there were no rowdy college students or suspicious patrons. Every once and a while, people recognized the cast and asked for pictures. Overall, the ambiance of the bar was cozy.
Lin was at the bar by himself, volunteering to get the second round of drinks.
Your breath hitched as you watched a woman slip a piece of paper into Lin’s pocket, before strutting back to her table where her giggling friends watched the whole exchange.
Lin falters before retrieving the piece of paper that you knew had the woman’s phone number written on it. You expected him to throw it away, but to your disbelief, he puts it back in his pocket.
That was the rejection that you needed.
The rest of the night passed by in a blur.
Lin, who sat next to you, gently nudges your side when he noticed how quiet you were. “You okay?”
You give him a weak smile, heart hurting as you looked at him. “I will be.”
A way to a man’s heart is through communication.
You avoided Lin all week.
You ignored everyone’s questioning stares when you didn’t sit next to Lin during the dinner dates. You lied through your teeth when they asked you if something was wrong. You didn’t even flinch when they teased you about your feelings for Lin.
It was one of the meet-and-greet nights, where high school students had the opportunity to stay after the show and talk to the cast and crew. You, along with security, were in charge of making sure things didn’t get too rowdy. As always, Lin was animatedly talking to a group of students that were completely under his spell.
You didn’t notice Luis sneaking up beside you until he spoke.
“Y/N, my son’s been moody every day this whole week.”
You look at him from the corner of your eyes, remaining silent.
Luis toys with the headphones in his hands. “You know, the only time he’s ever like this is because of a woman.”
A woman? The woman from the bar? You bite your bottom lip. Were they having issues?
“Lin’s never been the best with women. He’s always self-conscious and second guesses himself,” he continues in spite of your silence, “Especially when it comes to a beautiful woman who he thinks is beyond his league.”
Your brows furrow in confusion. “What?”
“Not only that, but Lin almost bit my head off when I ate the last piece of red velvet cupcake in his apartment today,” he starts, “I’ve never seen him so angry over pastries.”
You turn towards him, having enough of the cryptic stories. “With all due respect, Mr. Miranda, but what the hell are you going on about?”
“Y/N, I see the way you look at Lin. My son tells me everything, and I assure you, he absolutely adores you too.”
You were stunned.
“What?” you say stupidly.
It seemed like that was currently the only word in your vocabulary.
“He’s been talking about you non-stop. I knew so much about you before I even met you,” Luis says, “But for the first time in six months he’s stopped. What happened?”
You squirm under his scrutinizing stare, afraid to lie to him. “I-I thought he met someone else. Some woman gave him her number and I saw him keep it. He doesn’t like me.”
Luis shakes his head. “If there’s one thing you need to know about relationships, Miss Y/N, is that communication is the key to a successful one.”
“Communication?” you repeat.
“It prevents all of this heartache,” he explains, “End the misery and tell him how you feel.”
“But he doesn’t like me,” you protest.
He snorts. “I beg to differ. The boy doesn’t even like red velvet cupcakes. He only ate them because you made them.”
You stay silent, soaking in everything that he’s said.
He made a satisfied sound at your silence and pats your shoulder before walking away.
A way to a man’s heart is…
Lin jumped in his seat when the door to his dressing room was whipped open.
Y/N, eyes glinting with determination, purposely walked to him.
He had a feeling that she was going to yell at him. He’s been picking his brain all week, trying to figure out what he did to make her so angry. He was prepared for the verbal onslaught. He’ll take anything she gave him, just as long as he was forgiven for whatever the hell he did. He was so lonely without her presence in his life. It was driving him insane.
“You. Me. Dinner after the show tomorrow night.” She grits out, hands clenched tightly as she waited for his response.
Lin felt all the oxygen leave his body. The girl that was way out of his league, liked him. The girl that has him reduced to a stuttering mess by just one look, liked him. The girl who he tried not to overthink every little thing she did for him, liked him.
“I-It’s a date,” Lin affirms.
Y/N’s determined behavior wavers, but she straightens herself up and gives him a glare.
“I’ll make sure to make those red velvet cupcakes that you love so much,” she harrumphs, stomping back out of his dressing room, leaving a laughing Lin in her wake.
Scene: Following an exceptionally boring meeting a colleague and I are avoiding contractual responsibilities in favour of bemoaning our current employment.
Colleague: So if you didn’t do this, what would you do?
Me: (distractedly) Write.
Colleague: Oh cool, whacha write?
Me:*don’t say fanfic don’t say fanfic, don’t say fanfic* Ah urm…
Colleague: Whatever it is it’s probably cool, so long as it’s not Harry Potter erotica. That shit’s weird.
Me: Harry Potter erotica? *10k Wolfstar knotting falls out of pocket* Never heard of such a thing! *buries Drarry enemies-to-lovers muggle!au under pile of files* Are you sure that’s a real thing? *drops Scorbus first-time fluff* Doesn’t sound real to me! *grabs Linny lemon and runs for the hills*
you know what irks me? when other groups cover SJ’s songs (especially Sorry Sorry) and in the comments section, I see really insensitive and rude remarks like “so and so group did a better job than Super Junior…Super Junior is not synchronized…etc” first of all, fact; the song IS Super Junior’s so no matter how much you bemoan or whine about it, it still remains theirs. secondly, did it not occur to you that there are over 10 members in the group (during the sorry sorry era)? Synchronizing and choreographing a dance for that large a group is by no means an easy feat. Imagine synchronizing 5 boys versus more than 10 in a single dance routine? additionally, SJ is known for their random dances & breaking routine. their freestyle dances are the highlight of their live stages.
yes, your faves did a wonderful job covering their sunbaenims’ song but what was the need to compare? or worse, put SJ down? you DO realize that it’ll only make y’all look ugly in front of your faves because they really respect & cherish SJ? just sayin’
Above all, there is no longer any need of belief, and the capitalist is merely striking a pose when he bemoans the fact that nowadays no one believes in anything any more. Language no longer signifies something that must be believed, it indicates rather what is going to be done, something that the shrewd or the competent are able to decode, to half understand.
Deleuze and Guattari on the “axiomatic” in Anti-Oedipus, p.250
I was honestly going to leave this fic at 2 parts, I’ve been feeling really down lately and I have no motivation to do anything. I declined the anons asking for a part 3 as well but I guess here I am. Enjoy my shitty writing:
The nerve of him.
Sauntering up to the balcony and brashly demanding that I
teach him to paint. Pretending everything was fine after last night, not
attempting to reach out to me ONCE the entire day. I had to admire the sheer
stupidity in his being for-
I started. Realizing that I sounded just like an old lady
bemoaning her useless husband.
And just as quickly the anger and rage were gone. Yes, what
Rhys did was wrong and hurtful but more than anything I felt ashamed of how I
had treated him upstairs. His ‘careless demeanor’ was simply him trying to
break the tension between us, thick and solid like ice.
Guiltily I looked around my surroundings, I was back in my
old room. Determined to show Rhys that he wasn’t going to win me back easily. I
had even moved some of my clothes back here as a symbol of my defiance.
Shaking my head, I stood up from my perch by the window. Shying
away from confrontation and not facing evident problems were habits of the Old
Feyre, who would’ve gladly let anyone walk over her like a doormat.
I made my way towards the door, intent on going after him
and talking about this whole mess of a situation. However, when I opened the
door, I found none other than Rhysand standing on the other side. His hand
raised as if to knock but I could tell he was second-guessing his decision with
every second that went by.
Our current stance reminded me of when I had run to our
mountain cabin long ago, fuming and hurt after the discovery of Rhys
withholding us being mates.
And just like all those years ago, I held the door wide open
and let him in. He walked in and my heart broke at how hesitant he seemed, his
eyes darted to me every other moment to see my reaction…and then quickly looked
away when he found that my gaze was trained on him.
Finally, he seemed to settle on the bed, still some distance
between us as I closed the bedroom door behind me and leaned back. I looked him
over and although I almost missed-
There. In all the years I had known him, I always found out
if he was nervous or afraid by his wings giving it away. A small, almost
imperceptible twitch on his left wing, near where the talon curved downwards,
was a telltale sign of his emotions.
“I’m sorry.” His head snapped up at my quiet confession. His
features set in incredulity.
Before he could interrupt me, I went on “I’m sorry I said
those things to you upstairs, you came to me to make things better but I was
too stubborn to even consider hearing an apology…” I stared down at my hands,
adamant at not making eye contact.
“Feyre, love.” He paused, inhaling deeply. “You have nothing
to apologize for.” He continued, so softly that I might’ve missed it were it
not for my Fae hearing.
I looked up at him then. At his pained expression. And
despite this moment, despite everything that had happened, I felt the tension
that kept our bond stretched taut all day, loosen just a fraction.
“You shut me out.” My voice came out rawer than I expected
it to. I couldn’t help it anymore. All the words came rushing out of me and the
cauldron damned tightness in my chest. “I understand if you didn’t want to talk
about it and needed some time alone but I wasn’t expecting you to lash out so
suddenly and I know I made it a point to block you all day but you didn’t even
try and reach out to me at all and even up on the balcony I think everything
just got the better of me and I didn’t mean half of the things I said well I
did mean some of them since I was so angry but-“
“Feyre! Darling, calm down.” Rhys interrupted me firmly, but
gently. During my rambling, he had gotten up from the bed and started to walk
towards me, I had subconsciously stepped forward as well so now we were
standing in the middle of the room.
He reached for my hands, which were currently fidgeting in
my anxiousness, and grasped them firmly in his own.
“Feyre,” He said my name like a prayer, his voice was hoarse
as he pressed his forehead to mine.
“I was a fool.” He began, “I pushed away the only light in
my darkness. I made you feel unwanted and alone and as if you weren’t worthy of
me, when darling it is quite the opposite. I wake up every day thanking the
Mother for this miracle in my long, immortal life that I do not deserve. I didn’t
act like myself when I woke up from that nightmare and I am so utterly sorry my love. I kept away from you the
entire day since I wanted to give you the space you needed…but I realize now
how I would have been isolating you from myself even further.”
Somewhere in the middle of his words I had started crying.
Rhys simply let go of my hands and cradled my face in his palms, wiping away my
tears with his thumbs. I put my arms around his neck as to get even closer to
him than I already was, needing to feel him and his warmth, needing the safety
and security it supplied.
“Feyre my love, will you forgive me?” His deep violet eyes
In response, I pressed my lips to his. The kiss
was gentle and soft and I sighed into his mouth when finally, finally the tightness that I had carried
around in my chest all day, loosened.
Summary: Phil’s perspective on the 2016 BONCAs (British Online Creator Awards) Word Count: 2.2K Tags: Established Relationship, BONCAs Author’s Note: Written for @vivianadichiara in exchange for her help with a hush-hush Phandom Secret Santa project! I make no assumptions about Dan and Phil’s relationship IRL—this is purely a work of fiction.
A BONCA Means They Love You
As Phil put on his black jacket with its shiny gold embroidery, he realized that only his shoes remained and his outfit would be complete. He looked down at his socks and bemoaned the fact that they matched, but he didn’t think Dan would appreciate his whimsical fashion sense in that regard tonight. In fact, Dan had loaned him a pair of his own plain black socks for the occasion.
Dan was nervous, so Phil was doing his best to make the night perfect. He put on his shoes and walked out into the lounge. Dan was standing at the hearth, fussing at his bowtie in the Lego mirror. Neither of them had occasion to wear bowties that often, but Dan had insisted that they both wear real ones and not the pre-tied kind. If they were going to a fancy “do,” then they would do it right. As with the socks, Phil had acquiesced.
Luckily, Phil’s father had taught him to tie a proper bowtie, so he helped Dan with his and then stood back to admire the full effect of Dan in his silver sequined jacket. “You look literally dazzling,” he grinned.
Dan smiled, then sat down to pull on his shoes, still looking anxious.
She wasn’t married. She wasn’t looking to get married. At no point did the series end in a happy ending with her finding a husband — which seemed to be the course you had to take as a woman. But she sort of bucked that. She worked in a newsroom, she had a tough boss, and she stood up to him. She had close friends, never bemoaning the fact that she was a single. She was very proud and comfortable in that role.
Michelle Obama Reflects on How Much Mary Tyler Moore Meant to Her
We finally have a gorgeous banner (many wonderful thanks to @elennemigo) for our wonderful biannual fest! So, the dates for this part of the fest will be in February, from February 12th to February 18th. The general theme is “Fill In The Blank” in that five of the themes are literally partially formed themes where you (yes, you) get to fill in the blank to make the unfinished sentence work however you want it to work to fit the actual theme. Now, while they are all love saying or titles to love songs, your fics do not have to be romantic in nature, nor do they have to feature a romantic ship. This also holds true for the non-fill in the blank days (the Valentine’s Day-themed prompts and the Free-For-All day). We want you to go wild this year.
Here are your themes:
Day 1 - I Knew I ___ You Before I Met You (Fanworks focusing on reputations before they meet) Day 2 - ___ At First Sight (Fanworks focusing on first meetings) Day 3 - Valentine’s Day/Galentine’s Day/Single’s Awareness Day (Fanworks focusing on one of the holidays celebrated February 14th) Day 4 - Feels Like ___ (Fanworks focusing on feelings) Day 5 - Nothing Greater Than ___ (Fanworks focusing on something/someone Molly loves) Day 6 - ___ Forever (Fanworks focusing on relationships, either long or short term, of any variety) Day 7 - Free For All (Anything that didn’t fit into a themed day that focuses on Molly)
PLEASE NOTE - THIS WILL NOT BE SPOILER FREE FOR SERIES 4. As it will have been nearly a month since it finished airing when the challenge starts, I will allow any and all spoilers for series 4 to be used in fic and fanworks, so if you have not seen it, block the tag “molly appreciation week” as everyone in the challenge should be using it to be safe rather than sorry, or else be spoiled at your own risk.
- Each prompt is a “fill in the blank” type prompt (except day 3 & day 7) based on a cliche or a romantic song (ie day 6 is based on “Together Forever” or “Nothing Lasts Forever”), but is up to each person’s individual preference as to what to fill in the blank with to give it some variety. The fanworks do not have to be romantic; they can be friendship or gen as well. - Any kind of fanwork you can think of is acceptable for this week: fanfic, fanart, fanvids, manipulations, gifsets (please make sure they are *your* gifs, though, and you’re not taking them from others), meta, headcanons…anything you can think of that would celebrate Molly Hooper that would fit in with a theme (or just show love for her in general on Day 7) will be accepted with much pleasure. - Be kind and respectful to everyone participating. We don’t want any wank because this is a week for sharing our love for a character who loves pretty much everyone we’ve seen her meet. - If there’s something submitted that you like, please like it (or even better, reblog it so others can see it too)! If there’s a link to it on another website, go to that website and leave them love there as well. - Any and all romantic ships are allowed. Het, femslash, poly…you ship it, we want to see it! We turn no one away. All ships are valid ships, including crossovers. Likewise, all takes on Molly’s sexuality and gender are valid for this week as well. Not everyone shares the same headcanons but we should all be respectful of others. - On Day 3, fics do not necessarily have to conform with said holiday you choose. You can write angsty break-up Valentine’s Day fic, or you can write Single’s Awareness Day fic where romance blossoms. It’s entirely up to you what you choose to do with the holiday you pick. - If you post something for the day, please make sure one of your first five tags is molly appreciation week and then make sure a second tag is as follows, depending on the day, so your works can be found by everyone:
day 1: i knew i … you before i met you day 2: … at first sight day 3: february 14th day 4: feels like … day 5: nothing greater than … day 6: … forever day 7: free for all
- Newt’s greatcoat didn’t start out blue. It was a gift from his Mum and he cherishes it, but the orginal charcoal color washed him out something fierce. So he charmed it blue, after the name of his mother’s favorite hippogriff.
- Newt doesn’t eat much meat. He can’t reconcile the whole “something had to die for me to eat it” thing. He’s fine with his creatures eating other creatures, but he avoids it himself as much as he can.
- Newt has a prodigous sweet tooth. Tina teases him ruthlessly, and bemoans that he can remain trim while eating a half-dozen sweet buns per day.
- Newt proposes to Tina accidentally, but they roll with it because that’s what they both want. They go to pick out her engagement ring and their bands together, and of course they stick with the basics. They also pay a good chunk to have them charmed against potential Niffler theft.
- Their one and only child isn’t planned–not because of any conscious decision, but more as an oversight. Oops!
au where phony phoenix faces off against edgeworth in the second byrde trial and it takes all of five seconds for edgeworth to call him on it and spend the rest of the trial arguing back and forth about how the imposter is obviously not wright and bemoaning how stupid everyone him is seriously what the hell how is this his life
He’s not exactly sure why he says it, whether it’s because of the constant married jokes or the months of pining and pent up sexual frustration but when his Ma is going on her twelfth minute lamenting how he hasn’t gone out with anyone since the divorce and that she’s starting to think she raised a spinster he cracks.
“I’m dating Steve,” he shouts into the phone while Clara is bemoaning the fact she won’t have any more grandkids like she doesn’t already have four.
There’s a long silence on the other end of the line before she asks, “Your partner?” and Danny has about five seconds to decide whether to tell the truth or continue the lie.
“Yeah, my partner.”
“I always thought there was something more going on between the two of you,” she says and then he has to listen to her talk about how he’s a horrible son for not telling her sooner until finally, she says, “I have to go hon, I just wanted to say that the reason I called is that your father and I will be visiting for Christmas! I’ll email you our flights later, give Gracie my love,” and then she’s gone and Danny panics.
His parents arrive in two months, which gives him eight weeks to figure out how to sort this mess out. Of course, life happens and somehow eight weeks becomes two and he still hasn’t figured out how to get out of his lie. Telling his parents the truth after so long would be opening a con of worms that he does not want to touch, then again the alternative is telling Steve and hoping that he’ll play along. Eventually, he decides that potentially pissing Steve off would be far easier to handle than his mother’s look of disappointment.
“I need your help,” he says, closing Steve’s office door and sitting down on the couch.
“Okay, what can I do?”
“I need you to pretend to be my boyfriend,” he says, figuring it’ll be best to just get it all out in one go, “My Ma kept bringing up how I haven’t seen anyone since the divorce and it’s been almost three years Daniel, I’m starting to think I raised a spinster and I said I was dating you just to get her to stop talking about it but now my parents are visiting for Christmas and they want to meet you.”
“Yes, Danny, okay. I’ll do it. How long will they be here?”
“Um, nine days. They get in Christmas Eve and leave New Years.”
“Great, I’ll help you pick them up from the airport,” Steve’s smiling like he just got an early Christmas present and later, Danny will pinpoint that as the exact moment his plan went out of his control.
Steve buys his parents leis, carry’s their luggage, asks how Stella and Bridget are doing, and acts like any boyfriend would from the moment they meet his parents at the baggage claim. He can tell that his Ma is completely charmed by the act and truth be told, he’s kinda loving it too.
They celebrate Christmas at Steve’s house and Steve won’t stop touching him, putting an arm over his shoulders, running the backs of his fingers over his arm, holding his hand. If not being able to touch Steve at all was bad, this being touched and knowing that it doesn’t mean anything is torture.
“You’ve got to stop,” he says, cornering Steve in the kitchen in one of the few moments they’ve had alone all day.
“The constant touching, it’s driving me insane. I thought this would be easy but you keep playing this perfect boyfriend routine and I can’t take it anymore.”
“I thought that this is what you wanted?” Steve says, his voice raising.
“It is!” He yells back and shuts his mouthing, knowing he’s revealed too much.
“I have been trying very hard to keep my… feelings for you in check,” he keeps his voice quiet and studies the pattern in Steve’s countertop, “I don’t want to ruin our friendship so I am asking you. Please, stop.”
There’s a long, pregnant pause before Steve says, “No,” and when Danny looks up Steve is moving towards him until he’s close enough to grab him by the arm and kiss him. He loses himself in the kiss, in the way Steve feels underneath his hands and they don’t pull apart until Clara walks in on them asking what’s taking them so long.
“Sorry! Sorry, I’m leaving. Take your time,” she says, turning around and walking right back out of the kitchen.
Danny sighs and moves after her saying, “We should get out there, otherwise she’ll think we’re getting up to something.”
“Yeah,” Steve agrees, but he pushes Danny against the fridge and kisses him again, holding him tight, “There’s plenty of time for that later.”