skoosiepants | Either someone has to stop me...

Or you people have to help me write these.

I love teen novels. I love cheesey coming-of-age, god, especially early 80's teen books. Paula Danziger? *loves* Judy Blume? Is there anything better? Harlequin cheese of the teenie bopper kind? Dude! G-rated love stories with fifteen-yr-olds!

And when I can't sleep at night, my mind goes on rabid tangents. There is no way in hell I want to actually write these - no way in hell - but coming up with the sums have been fun. I've only got two down, but I've even got a title for the series.

I would pretty much be willing to have anyone's babies who decides to run with these. Seriously.

They are called the No Boys Allowed fics. They are all completely AU crack. Teen romance. Chock full of growing pains. G to PG situations. PG-13 in a pinch.

And, DUDES, you remember that pairing I said made puppies cry? The one I can't even read anymore? Yeah, the first one totally had to be it. I don't know why, but it's the way it came out...

This Means War!

At fourteen, Ginny Weasley was all long, gangly legs and thin arms, and she could fold herself up like a spider in her hidey-hole at the back of her walk-in closet. She was flame-haired and sun-freckled and wasn’t allowed to wear makeup, and out of everything in the entire world, Ginny wanted a bra. Any sort of bra, really, because she was fourteen and flat-chested, and her mum called her a late-bloomer while her six horrible, smelly, disgusting older brothers called her the Boobless Wonder. Oh, how she hated them – how she hated boys. Especially Ron’s new mate with the spazzy hair and the broken specs who seemed to rib her just as easily as the twins. Fred and George, being related, were armed with a certain level of immunity to her ire – her mum and dad helpfully took care of them for her. But Harry Potter… Harry Potter, this means war!

The Boy Next Door

When Hermione Granger was twelve, she’d been firmly labeled a nerd; a bushy-haired know-it-all who was too bossy for her own good. And she’d hated the boy responsible for those taunts ever since. Specifically, the boy who lived next door - sloe-eyed Blaise Zabini with his sly smirks and his fast hands that’d landed more than one girl in unmentionable trouble. Or so the rumors went.

When they end up assigned to the same school project, Hermione’s determined not to let the prat get to her, or get in her way of getting top marks. But Zabini turns out to be surprisingly smart, if obnoxious and arrogant, and his wicked sense of humor is strangely appealing… She better watch out, or she just might fall for the boy next door.

*giggles insanely* *runs off*

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Absolutely Dreadful

Pansy Parkinson was positive that being thirteen was the end of the world. Here she was, all thick thighs and budding breasts and bleeding once a month for a week. Her mother told her that she was becoming a woman, but Pansy was positive she was actually turning into the notorious Big Foot. After all, not only was she now lumpy and a bit on the fat side, but she also had hair in places it certainly didn’t belong and it was growing like mad.

And her feet really were abnormally large, she was sure of it. She even secretly thought she could run away and be a clown, they were so freaking big.

At least her best friend was along for the ride to hell that everyone else called puberty. Though said certain best friend sure had been ignoring her lately. She wondered what was up with that. It probably had something to do with the fact that whenever they walked to school together anymore, snot-nosed Draco Malfoy stood at his fence and obnoxiously sang: Pansy and Weasel sitting a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G.

Pansy hated Draco Malfoy.

Her best friend, Ron Weasley, hated him too.

So, really, it didn’t make any sense that Ron was ignoring her just because Malfoy was a jerk. Maybe the problem was Pansy’s new boobs and not Malfoy. Pansy’d caught him staring at Lavender Brown’s the other day and when Pansy’d asked him what he thought was so great about them, he’d just stared at her like she crazy until she pointed out that she had them too. Then he’d turn so red his freckles had disappeared.

Come to think about it, that was the last time she’d talked to him. Ugh. Stupid redheaded boys and stupid growing boobs and stupid