fancast: with poc


Tv show aesthetic → Scooby-Doo! Mystery Incorporated

This series featured four teenagers —Fred Jones, Daphne Blake, Velma Dinkley, and Norville “Shaggy” Rogers—and their talking brown Great Danenamed Scooby-Doo, who solve mysteries involving supposedly supernatural creatures through a series of antics and missteps.


poc potter week day 2: ootp / death eaters / professors - 1/5 kingsley shacklebolt

harry potter poc canon characters: kingsley shacklebolt / ≤ auror, personal guard to the british prime minister, order of the phoenix member, minister for magic

‘I’d say that it’s one short step from ‘Wizards first’ to ‘Purebloods first,’ then to 'Death Eaters,’“ replied Kingsley. “We’re all human, aren’t we? Every human life is worth the same, and worth saving.’

I think I’m actually going to be pretty pissed if sjm doesn’t up her diversity game in the next books.

There are a lot of opportunities for her to do this - she has in no way written herself into a corner where diversity is no longer possible (this may have to do with world-building holes, but, anyway…).

There are Courts we haven’t seen yet, characters, Chaol is going to whatever in the hell place he is going that could have diverse people, I’m sure there will be more relationships developing that don’t at all need to be hetero or even monogamous, tbh. There is just… a lot of potential for this.

(edit to move some of my tags to the post bc… my tags got ridiculous…) If I knew before what I know now about these books, I may not have read them in the first place. But I did, and now I’m here, stuck in this fandom dumpster of smut and meta and so-called theories, and I like living in this damn dumpster. I just wish it weren’t filled with white hetero monogamous couples all the time.

And so I’m… going to be quite disappointed if some things don’t change. I don’t know what I’ll actually do. But I know I won’t be happy.


The founding women of Hogwarts: Gryffindor, who believed the brave and chivalrous should dwell within; Hufflepuff, who welcomed the loyal and just with kindness and equality; Ravenclaw, who encouraged those with creative and intelligent minds and Slytherin who took in those with ambition and resourcefulness.


Historically Accurate ;) Fantastic Beasts Fancast

Alfred Enoch-Newton Scamander
Lupita Nyong’o-Porpentina Goldstein
 Anthony Mackie-Jacob Kowalski
Danai Gurira-Queenie Goldstein
Idris Elba-Percival Graves
Justice Smith-Credence Barebone

listen i would love for a Not White trc cast but everyone’s acting like casting white actors would be white washing when that entire series is whiter than wonder bread!!! stop giving magpie shitposter credit for ~diversity~ she didn’t write when she’s made it very clear she dislikes poc fancasts

update: i clearly didnt expect this to get Notes but this was my take based on a conversation i had w her anyway pls enjoy ur day

Ross Butler   Reggie Mantle / Julia Barretto  Midge Klump

Reggie waits. And it’s a surprise, because Mantle the Magnificent never waits. Patience does not spring out the tips of his callous fingers, as it brings out the horrible essence of his spoiled childhood. He throws and snarls and snaps at help and rips off expensive designer clothing.

But for this one living, breathing human specimen, he waits.

He waits because when Reggie is six and Midge Klump is five and a half, they watch as her father slowly deteriorate under the dim fluorescent lighting and with the monotonous beating that haunts his ears until he’s sick to the stomach. She doesn’t cry, because she’s Midge. Instead, she throws out dolls and plays with cars and bullies Reggie more often out of boredom. Reggie waits outside her house every afternoon for a week straight until he finally realizes that some people grieve in different, obscured ways that don’t include tears.

He waits because Midge is there over and under. Down the ice cream parlor where her dad used to take them all the time. Over at 7-Eleven with her back turned against the crude magazines, sipping in iced coffee with her nose in a dog-eared Sherlock Holmes paperback. Midge Klump hidden among literature, statistic formulas, and plate tectonic theories. She’s a pretty princess and an Alan Turing and a four-time pageant state winner. She’s there for him even if she doesn’t mean to  as if it’s the universe actually proclaiming that it’s her. It’s fucking her. He waits because Midge is always, always right, even when he knows she is downright wrong.

He waits when she’s fifteen and he’s sixteen because he’s a pompous jock and she’s an ignorant mathlete; and they are so close, yet so far away. He always notices her the millisecond she steps in fifth period Biology, because he’s Reggie. And she won’t notice the moon-lit beams he screams through his arrogant and bombastic facade, because she’s Midge.

He waits because when they stop talking after sixth grade and he sees her less, less, less and she never asks him anymore if he wants a bite out of her mom’s specialty lasagna because he’s too busy with drunken teenage monstrosity every Friday night he learns that Midge doesn’t wait. Not anymore.

They bicker like balanced swings, ready for a comeback when Reggie fingers her name in anger against the horror stricken playbook besides Moose’ name, and he swears he feels like his soul has been crushed a thousand times. He glares at her over Moose’ oblivious head in the lab, hardened and jealous, simultaneously pushing back any thoughts of how pretty she obviously is. He wants to kiss her everywhere, from her hairline to her lips, to the rose-like scar she got when she fell down from her Bratz bike when she was six. He wants to trace the crevices of her skin, to whisper nostalgia of something he’s never touched before.

In the beginning of sophomore year, after Jason Blossom dies, his thoughts are a tornado and he’s actually thinking of acquiring a dog when Midge Klump appears within his view the first time after his best friend vanished from the depths of Sweetwater River. She’s tiny and clumsy and at the same time hard around the edges despite her pink sweater and glitter lip gloss.

He waits because she passes him after he rowdily calls out Wednesday Addams, who bumps into his shoulder like some thin bamboo. She’s so little compared to Reggie. She glances over, doesn’t slip out a smile, and perceives his presence as if he isn’t there at all. And that’s when Reggie thinks they are too far to strike close again. He waits because he thinks they live too many distances apart.

One day, he thinks, they won’t act like two beings who’d pretend to remain oblivious. They’ll be whole again  two lovers in their most private domain. And when that day happens, they will be laughing over this as if it is stale popcorn from the midnight drive-in and it’s Saturday all over again and there are no parents or expectations or the future to worry about.

It will be one heck of a story to tell her of things that should have been, moments that could have been theirs their high school life like a huge chunk of skipped episodes in a shitty teen drama. Reggie will tell her a story about a boy who waited and a girl who didn’t, and why that didn’t really matter in the end.

Reggie will tell her. Maybe tomorrow, or the morning after that, or in twenty years; who knows? 

He’ll tell her all about it later.

Until then, he waits.