#I got the our severs can’t handle paragraphs this long and I haven’t even finished s4

[m00n-pr1sm]

despite me having a 60 slide presentation that is 9k words titled “morgana pendragon did nothing wrong”, I do in fact! think she has done bad things. the main gripe I have with everything is how genuinely shitty her development is, like this point has been hammered in a million times atp and I’m probably not adding anything new to the convo but let me rant, one day I’ll write a polished explanation or whatever but I’m just annoyed + me explaining why she’s not a good person :3 + my thoughts

I think morgana is a wonderfully established character, she’s someone who was willing to stand up for what she believed in and actively call out uther’s actions; as well as being willing to cross morally questionable lines to achieve what she genuinely thought was for the best. she was complex and honestly so interesting in the earlier seasons, we saw her struggles and genuinely empathized with her desire of acceptance and the fear of persecution. Also girlie had nightmares constantly like I can only imagine how tiring that shit is. but then s3 happened and her development took a complete nose dive! like I understand why she did what she did in s2e12, I think it’s a fine episode but I do wish they established the morgana + morgause relations better than they did in canon, like if you’re going to make a character do a complete 180, at least show the time period between that? because morgana was so clearly shaken but what she had done in s2e12, she had shut down basically and was struggling to cope with what she had done through the entire episode. Like I’m sure you could fill in the gaps but it’s just poor writing, show, don’t just imply that morgause became this figure in morgana’s life that she held up with such reverence and how she basically absorbed her values to just become this hollow antagonist that just has silly little schemes every episode in s3. like we already established how she had a desire for acceptance we should’ve show morgause grow into that. Also the fact that she brings up the poisoning like one time??? and never had any heart to heart with Merlin? Like I get that she was too unwilling to compromise on her values (and she’s ne polr-) but it’s far too quick of a shift in her character. She went from feeling immense guilt of her actions to smugly wanting Camelot to fall, like at least show some ambivalence or some kind of self doubt if you’re going to make her turn to evil off screen??? I’ll probably always be upset that they removed that scene in s3e13 where morgana was like “I felt like a monster (bc of my magic) and morgause was the only one there for me”, like that simple line, while implied w/o that scene, just has a lot of depth to her and explains it explicitly (also I feel like that would be the last thing to break uther so yeah I wish they didn’t delete that one). circling back, but I actually really love s3e05 (it’s one of my faves) because it just expands so much on how much she genuinely wants to be loved and how volatile morgana has become to rejection; like she is genuinely so desperate. I think from then on, morgana sorta imprints the idea of being “uther’s daughter”, thus trying to fit herself into that role (but that is very much a headcanon). From s3+ her mission is just “I want to kill Arthur (and emyrs) so I can be queen because I deserve it” but it’s totally about her bringing magic back! I think she comes to see Arthur as nothing more than an extension of uther (something that she does call him out her in earlier seasons) but I also believe that there is envy there! because he recognizes him as her son ofc but denies morgana of that, so she seeks to destroy what she cannot have (sx4???). of course her whole pursuit of emyrs which is just born of self-preservation. I actually appreciate s4 morgana bc of the fact that she’s is more vulnerable than in s3, like she’s just a lonely fool in the woods w/o any real friends bc she’s lost them all. and she contemplates sometimes. silly. also I like that we got a slight taste of distressed morgana who always sought out reassurance in s4e13, like girlie needs someone to tell her that’s everything will be okay and that is why morgwen is the best ship ever + why she is so emotionally volatile bc she is w/o that

Although I do wish they focused on her skill of social engagement, like she had so many ally ships and a clear ability to read and manipulate emotions, but whatever ig. It’s sad to see how much her world has really changed and her world view being so messed up and so black and white (like she also was pretty polarized in the earlier seasons but like those values she held made more moral sense + she felt guilt) also I think it’s important to bring up how her talking to emyrs in s4e06 being like “Arthur will never accept you, magic will only come back once I rule” as a play to distract him. also it’s genuinely so fucked up that she was locked in the bottom of a well for 2 years w/o light or movement like??? That is genuinely such a messed up thing I don’t think the show or fandom talks about enough. It’s literally a complete loss of her agency and freedom which I do believe is something that morgana values a lot, to always do some kind of action, she’s never been a stagnant character and to just. be stuck powerless and immobile for 2 years with the one creature that you’ve bonded with and loved and saw as you’re only campaign, like aithsa saved morgana; just suffer in such a painful and cruel way? LIKE WHY DO WE NOT TALK ABT IT MORE??

I guess I’ll talk abt s5 right now lol or just read my slideshow rant abt one of my gripes lol but yeah the writing takes another nosedive in s5, morgana just becomes really more one dimensional, although I’m glad that they at least addressed her and Gwen’s relationship, albeit in a very messed up way. But yeah her desperation for Gwen finally got the best of her and I truly believe that was the main purpose and not just her being used as a tool for assassinating Arthur. One think they should’ve done more was Morgana’s descent into madness and delusion, like she’s actually unhinged by the final few episodes and ofc that was caused by mordred’s death but I do wish that was just a theme in her character. I suppose it could parallel how uther shut down into numbness but morgana just became increasingly more volatile (it is 2am I am def grasping for straws). One day I write a proper uther and morgana parallels rant. Anyways her death scene is nice ig, she never did get the satisfaction of seeing Arthur die. anyways her entire character from s3+ is the sunk cost fallacy, she’s in too deep and she could never pull out. I haven’t watched bojack but I would’ve loved if they made her like Diane in how she feels like she needs to write her book to make her trauma productive in some way (“if I don’t then that means that all the damage I got isn’t good damage it’s just damage and all those years I was miserable I could’ve been happy this whole time. blah blah “what was it all for?”, from memory so if there’s a mistake that is why). She needs to take out all her years of hurt and rejection and someway by embodying that and doing it to everyone in her life ((for that reason)unconsciously) but I mean it’s not like they really imply that in canon, I’m probably reading too much into it. But yeah she’s selfish and hypocritical. At least she continued in being way too overbearing in her personal judgments (MY ESI WIFE (REAL))

[official-weasley]

Love, William (Bill Weasley x OC) - Chapter 9

WARNINGS: if fluff is a warning 🤭

Chapter 9 - Love, William

Theodora had a hard time keeping track of the days as they were going by so fast and so many things have happened. She hasn’t been in her room for 2 days staying with the twins after Mr. Weasley’s attack at the Ministry.

They told her that they were okay but she knew them better than that so she decided to stay in their room to show her support. George has been more agitated than Fred but she thinks that Fred is just better at hiding his fear.

She sat down at her desk, pressing her fingers against her temples, trying to stop the worrying thoughts in her head.

Not having a dad around and only getting a letter from him a few times per year now, Mr. Weasley grew on her as a father figure, and as much as she tried to be strong for her two best friends she couldn’t help but be concerned while being on her own.

Something caught her attention on the edge of her desk. It was a letter from Bill. She has been so occupied making the twins feel better that she completely forgot about it. She always felt better when she read his letters and writing back to him has been kind of therapeutic so she was glad she could reply to him at that moment.

Dear Theodora,

I am sorry to burden you with this but how are my siblings doing? How are Ron and Ginny with everything that happened with dad?

I don’t want to imagine how shocked Ron was when Harry told him that something attacked our father. Is he alright?

How are the twins handling it? I know they like to hide their emotions and usually tell people they are doing fine but I know you know them better than that and I know it’s not my place to tell you this but please watch over them.

It was traumatic for us all at how fast it all happened. Just a week ago I talked to dad and then suddenly, he was in the hospital.

The whole event only confirms that I’ve made the right decision to come back home. I would never forgive myself if I was so far away – I know Charlie is losing it but he simply can’t get a day off to come home. I think I might visit him in a few days. Merlin knows it would both do us good.

Bill

Theodora pressed the letter to her heart, trying hard to hold in the tears. It was enough that the twins weren’t doing okay with what happened to their dad and seeing Bill so concerned simply broke her heart. She has never wanted to hug him more and wished she could do anything for him to not be so worried about his family.

Dear Bill,

Please stop saying that you are a burden. Of course, you’re worried about your siblings. Ginny is doing okay. I had lunch with her yesterday and your mum wrote to her that dad is going to make full recovery. She cried happy tears and her mood improved greatly because of it.

Ron can’t stop thanking Harry for having a vision and saving your dad’s life. He is beyond grateful for it and he is doing better as well. I think he is getting more concerned about Harry and the dreams he keeps having. He said that they are getting more frequent and more terrifying and I kind of worry too.

I stayed with Fred and George for two days in their dorm. They said that they are fine and that there’s no need for me to do so but I didn’t take no for an answer. I know when they are not okay and even if they wanted to appear strong for Ron, Ginny, and Harry’s sake I know that they silently worry too.

With your mum’s letter, they are all doing better and they are going back to their old routines. George didn’t want to come down to eat for 3 days and Fred didn’t feel like pranking Filch at all so you can imagine it was pretty bad.

Did you go and see Charlie? I know he would appreciate you being with him for a while. I wrote to him too, he seems to be doing better but I think he wishes he could be closer to the family as you are.

How are you doing with everything? I know you had the liberty to visit your dad more often in the hospital. I wish I could do more for you – you sounded pretty worried in your letter and I hate seeing you like this.

I know it’s not much, but I want you to know I am here for you if you ever need to talk about anything. I know it’s hard to let your guard down as the eldest in the family and I know you think you constantly have to keep your composure and be strong for your younger siblings but know that you can share your worries with me.

Sending you a tight hug,

Theodora

—

The second Theodora got Bill’s letter at breakfast she got up and went straight to her dormitory. She wanted to know how Bill was doing with everything that has been going on, completely ignoring the suspicious looks she kept getting from her two best friends whenever she hid Bill’s letter from them.

Dear Theodora,

I apologize for needing so long to reply to your last letter. I visited Charlie in Romania and I can say that my visit made him miss family a bit less. I promised him that I will send him letters more frequently to inform him of everything and he seemed more relaxed because of it.

I don’t even know how to reply to your last letter.

You have no idea how much your words mean to me. It’s comforting to know that I can talk to you and I am not going to lie that writing to you has helped me through these past few months.

With so much going on it’s nice to sit down and open your letters. There’s no point denying that I caught myself several times waiting for one or getting an owl and hoping the letter is from you. I am looking forward to every single one I get because I know that no matter what you’re going to write you will make my day.

I am doing fine. Dad has fully recovered and is home now and already making jokes about his accident so I think it’s safe to say he is going to be okay.

I am not going to lie, the whole incident shook me pretty hard but we can’t dwell on the past. He survived thanks to Harry and at the end of the day, that’s all that matters.

Will I go too far if I tell you that I wish you were here and not at school? I miss having you around and at times corresponding with you through letters isn’t enough.

Please ignore the last paragraph and just know I am deeply touched by your last letter. Thank you.

Love, Bill

Theodora couldn’t stop rereading his letter. She never imagined this is going to be Bill’s reply. She just wanted to let him know she is there for him. It wasn’t a big deal at all but she couldn’t help to stop the warm feeling in her chest when she saw just how much it meant to him.

She kept staring at his signature.

Love, Bill

She read all his letters more than once and she was certain that he never wrote anything next to his name before, let alone that word. What is she supposed to reply to him?

He told her he missed her and that he loved corresponding with her. She felt the same way. She was longing for his letters every day but is she going to admit that to him? He did, so perhaps there’s no harm if she expresses that she feels the same.

Dear Bill,

it makes me so happy to know that Charlie is doing better and that your visit helped him. You’re a great brother.

I miss being around you too and know that you didn’t go too far with saying that.

Corresponding with you has become a routine of sorts and I love every letter you send me and it seems I can’t wait to reply to you. Writing to you has been comforting, especially with Umbridge finding out about DA.

She doesn’t know where to search yet but it’s only a matter of time before we would have to seriously do something about it.

I keep thinking of last summer. I know we didn’t speak at the end with what the twins and Charlie pulled so I never got to tell you how nice it was stargazing with you. Whenever I am anxious and am feeling like things won’t get any better I think of those moments with you and it brings a smile to my face.

I wish we could do that again.

There it was – the time to sign her letter and fold it has come. Was she overthinking this? Perhaps Bill was just so emotional to see her being such a good friend that he simply signed the letter as he did so she shouldn’t beat her head around it so much, right?

Love, Theodora

There. She did it. No turning back now.

Dear Theodora,

please be careful around Umbridge. Ron told me that she is trying to bribe students to talk where your meetings are held. I don’t know her but if she found out that you are up to something she probably won’t stop until she gets to the bottom of it.

Be prepared for the worse in case she busts you. If you can – run away. If you can’t – fight.

I can’t tell you enough how happy it makes me that you are thinking of our stargazing moments at the Burrow. My mind often wanders there as well and I wish we had more time to spend with each other.

I know I shouldn’t apologize again for that prank in the broom closet. However, I would like to apologize for how I acted afterward. I shouldn’t just stop talking to you but I thought it would be easier for you and it stopped the teasing.

Know that I didn’t lock myself in my room because I wouldn’t want to be around you – I hope that you know that I didn’t wish for anything more than to spend more time with you.

George wrote a letter to me saying that you got the shop and nothing else. I think he was just so excited that he couldn’t write the details. How was it? Are you excited as well to start your own business?

Thinking of the summer for a better day.

Love, Bill

Theodora couldn’t believe her eyes. He wanted to spend more time with her?

Dear Bill,

don’t worry. We are keeping it together here. They think they are on to us but the room we picked for practice was the right choice and they haven’t figured out how to get to us yet.

Fred, George, and I are almost done with our plan to get at Umbridge and we hope we are in time for our strike back! We won’t give up that easily, trust me.

I can imagine George being over the roof about the shop! We all are. This year can’t finish fast enough that’s how excited I am to finally run it and to see the boys sell all their amazing inventions! You have to come and visit – I think they are going to make you very proud.

The last few days of the summer have been a blur if I’m perfectly honest. The twins still apologize to me from time to time about what they did to us. Do know that they feel bad about it and so does Charlie – he wrote me a whole letter about it despite coming to get me in the forest.

I apologize for storming out as I did. It was really unpleasant and uncomfortable and I just needed to be alone at that moment, I hope you can understand.

I was thinking of knocking on your door and talking to you about the whole situation but you seemed like you didn’t want to be bothered and I didn’t want to talk about anything that you would feel uneasy about.

Know that it’s long forgotten and I am happy the teasing stopped as well.

Love, Theodora

She sent her letter with a lighter heart knowing that she had a chance to talk to Bill about what happened in that broom closet. He didn’t have to know how she felt but she could make him see that she doesn’t blame him for not talking to her. She did miss him but she preferred it that way – she knew nothing good could come out of it and they were friends now and that all that mattered to her.

Dear Theodora,

I know you are all smart enough to trick Umbridge. I am not big on breaking the rules and pranking never was my cup of tea but know that I am rooting for your plan to succeed.

Show that woman that she shouldn’t mess with the students of Hogwarts!

I will be there when you open the shop, don’t you worry. I am proud of my brothers for choosing this path and I am proud of you for being by their side, supporting their dream, and creating your own path at the same time. It’s truly inspiring to see how amazing you are and how much you’re growing.

Since I am working at Gringotts now and you’ll be working in the shop, we could meet up sometime, if that is okay with you, of course. It would definitely make our correspondence easier (not that I mind writing letters to you).

Your number one fan against the evil toad (as Ginny called her).

Love, Bill

Theodora giggled as she read the last sentence. She felt as if she could conquer anything with Bill’s encouraging words.

Then she bit her lip as she reread the part that they could meet up. She was intrigued by the idea and couldn’t deny that she was thinking of asking him the same herself but she couldn’t bring herself to do it.

Writing letters to each other was one thing. He couldn’t see her grin when she opened his letters and couldn’t see her blush when she was replying to him. It made the words easier to come out on paper than if they were face-to-face.

Their correspondence grew on her and she completely forgot about the fact that she was supposed to get over him. She stopped caring what he meant with every word and just wrote back as she felt.

Dear Bill,

Umbridge has officially started interrogating people to find out where we are holding our meetings. Everything seems to be getting out of hand and I can’t wait to get out of here.

Hogwarts used to be our haven – a place for learning and spending time with friends. Now, all we can think about is waging a war against her and getting her the hell out of our school.

Thank you for supporting us as you do. I’ll make sure to tell your brothers to give you a discount if you would like anything from the shop.

I would love to meet up. I don’t want these letters to stop but I can’t deny that it would be easier to talk in person either.

I am sure you will get an invitation from your brothers the second we open and we can arrange our meeting then.

Excited to be a businesswoman!

Love, Theodora

Theodora folded the letter and put it in an envelope. It was kind of short but if she said anything else, she knew she would take it too far. Now that Bill will see she wants to meet up he will stop sending her letters and she can mentally prepare herself to see him when they open the shop.

Theodora,

I can’t stop thinking about you.

Theodora was sitting on a toilet lid in the second-floor bathroom. She didn’t expect to get any more letters from Bill but her heart fluttered nonetheless when it arrived.

Fred almost snatched the letter from her and if she is reading its content correctly, it wouldn’t end well.

She kept repeating the words in her head. She knew the letter was from Bill without his signature. She knew his handwriting by heart now.

What is she supposed to reply to this? Or better yet, why did he write that?

She took a deep breath and quickly put the letter away before Myrtle would show up again. She decided to try and forget about it throughout the day as she couldn’t bring herself to write something like that to him.

It would be wrong, wouldn’t it? What would her two best friends think if they knew she was secretly corresponding with their eldest brother in that way?

Of course, she couldn’t get him out of her head either but is she going to admit that to him?

Dear Bill,

I can’t even find the words to tell you how much these letters mean to me. I love the book you got me for my birthday but this correspondence was an even better present that just keeps on giving.

I can’t stop thinking about you either and I miss spending time with you.

Love, Theodora

There, she said it. Now if only could her heart calm down. Her mind kept going in circles, saying that this no longer felt like friendship but she stopped her thoughts every time. She has to be wrong about it. He can’t simply have feelings for her. He told her loud and clear that she was too young for him.

Dear Theodora,

I am sitting in my office replying to your letter. I have just finished work and I wish nothing but to spend the rest of my day with you.

I truly miss you and would I be crossing the line if I tell you that I no longer miss you just as a friend?

Love, William

Theodora inhaled sharply. If Bill keeps writing to her like this she is going to lose it.

Love, William

She read again. He changed his signature again. What was he doing to her?

She closed her The Standard Book of Spells Grade 7 at once. She needed answers. She can’t go on and on about it in her head any longer.

Dear William,

I am not going to lie, I was deeply touched by your last letter as much as I am confused about it.

I am not trying to overthink what you wrote to me as it was clear last summer that I am too young for you, so would you mind terribly, explaining what you meant to express with your words?

Love, Theodora

She didn’t know if sending the letter was a good or a bad idea. She didn’t know if she was ready to find out what he meant by that. She didn’t want to get her hopes up but what else could he have meant by it?

Dear Theodora,

I reckoned I should’ve made it more clear in my previous letter what I meant with my words. Truth be told, I simply didn’t know how to explain.

I know what I said last summer and the person I was back then meant every word. You were 17 and no matter how mature you are for your age I simply couldn’t wrap my mind around being with someone so young.

I guess what I was trying to say is that I can no longer deny that I have feelings for you. I tried, believe me, but getting to know you better through these letters, waiting every day for your reply, you telling me about your day is driving me insane not being with you.

I was always the one to think with my head but when it comes to you, the heart speaks louder.

I hope this won’t scare you away. I know what a risk I am taking for admitting this to you but I know I would regret it if I didn’t.

Anxiously hoping for a reply.

Love, William

Theodora brushed a tear off her cheek. She couldn’t believe what she was reading. He had feelings for her? He wanted to be with her?

She has never wished more that she could apparate from the school grounds as her whole body was aching – wanting to be close to Bill.

For the first time since they started to talk to each other, she didn’t feel nervous to write back. She was shaking but in a good way – excitement ran through her body and her stomach was full of butterflies. She didn’t even care that her heart was beating hard against her ribcage. She could finally tell him how she feels.

Dear William,

how could you even think that you could scare me away? I thought it was visible from the moon that I fancied you last summer.

I tried bottling everything down. I didn’t want to admit it to myself. I knew where you stood and I didn’t think in my wildest dreams that you would change your mind about me being younger let alone to think of the possibility of you feeling the same way.

This school year really can’t come to an end fast enough now. I wish I could see you, to press my body against yours in a tight embrace.

Thank you for gathering the courage and telling me how you feel. You truly are brave and even though I’m a Gryffindor I don’t think I would ever be able to do it.

Those nights at the Burrow when we were stargazing together – just you and me – have been my favorite part of the summer and I hated how we stopped talking. It makes me smile every day that we started writing to each other and I don’t even know when I stopped caring that my feelings for you got stronger.

I don’t want to deny them anymore. I don’t want to bottle them. I want to be with you.

Love, Theodora

There, she did it. She told him how she feels. Now what?

[alwaysfeelingsaintlike]

Charmed I’m Sure [G.W.]

Description: George is in desperate need of assistance with his Charms essay and he turns to you. Working together brings you closer than you expected.

Pairing: George Weasley x Gryffindor fem!reader 

Word Count: 1.5k

A/N: I wrote a bunch of these short stories/one shots a while ago that I decided to post them on here! Keep in mind I wrote this one AGES ago, so I know this one isn’t great but it sets the scene for some of the others I have. As I post these, they should get better :) Also I’m new to posting fics on Tumblr so bear with me as a work the kinks out

                                                           X

 “Hermione, please!?!?” You heard from across the common room. 

“For the last time George, no! I will not write your Charms essay for you!” Hermione said. 

“But it’s due tomorrow and I haven’t even started yet!” 

“Sorry, that’s your problem. I’ve got other things to work on.” She left the common room and you chuckled quietly to yourself. 

“Waiting until last minute again, are we?” you asked George. He gave you a look that said it all.  

“If you’re going to give me the speech about being more responsible and managing my time more wisely you can just skip it because I’ve heard that one too many times.” 

“Me lecture? Never.” 

He rolled his eyes and you said, “Come here, what’s this essay about.” 

He sat down next to you on the couch and said,  “Y/N, you’re brilliant at Charms! Will you please write this for me!?” 

“Write it for you? No. But I will help you with it.” 

He hugged you suddenly and said, “Thank yoooooou!” 

“Easy. You can thank me when you finish the essay. I think you’re putting a little too much faith in me. I’m a year behind you so I might not even know about what you’re learning.” 

“Eh semantics,” he said nonchalantly and you gave him a skeptical look. But sure enough, it was a topic you were familiar with. You helped him form a thesis and explained some of the critical information he needed. He put quill to parchment  as you verbally gave him some sentences to include. As you sat there with him, you noticed he started to form his own words on the subject and everything he was writing was accurate. He seemed to be comfortable working on his own, so you pulled out some of your own work but sat with him for moral support.

After several hours, he convinced you to take  a break with him. He set aside his parchment and said, “So, Y/N. How have you been?” 

“I am just peachy. Things have been going quite well for me recently.” 

“Things always go your way. Your Irish blood brings you luck.” 

You shrugged and said, “Is that why you wanted my help? Because I’m lucky?” 

“No, it was more because you’re wicked smart. And I missed talking to you. I haven’t seen you much this year.” 

“Yeah I guess it has been a while. It’s mostly because you and Fred are always working on a prank of some sort.” 

“And you’re always talking to someone different, Miss Socialite.” 

“Oh that is not true. I’m just friendly.” 

“Sure,” he said with an eye roll. 

“Any good pranks in the works?” 

“Y/N,” he chucked, “I know that you’re dying to be a part of one of our infamous pranks, but I don’t think you’re qualified.” 

“I think you’re underestimating me. Think about it, filling me in on a prank would be very beneficial for you.” 

“Oh? And why is that?” 

“Because I’m logical and detail oriented. I think of everything, therefore there would be no chance of error. And, you know, I’m fun to be around.” 

“I will agree with you on the latter part. We do need to hang out more. Outside of quidditch.” 

“Well you should remember that and ask me to hang out sometime. I’m sure you’d much rather spend time with me while we’re doing something fun instead of writing an essay. And speaking of essay...” George groaned and went back to his books. 

“Come on, you  only have a few paragraphs left to write.” He started writing again and you looked up at the clock and noticed it was 2AM. You let out a big yawn and felt yourself become tired immediately. 

“You sound tired. You should go to bed. I don’t have much left to write, I can handle it,” he said. 

You shook your head and replied, “No, I’m okay. I’ll stay up with you.” 

“It’s good enough as it is. I can bullshit the next few paragraphs.” 

“Nope. I’m staying here. If I leave, who's to say you won’t fall asleep?” 

“Yeah, fair point.” 

By this time the two of you were sitting on the ground in the common room with your books sprawled out and your backs leaning against the couch, directly in front of the fireplace. You started getting cold so you grabbed a blanket and wrapped it around your shoulders. As you continued your reading assignment, you kept checking in on George to make sure he was getting work done.

“How’s it going?” you asked. 

“I’m just trying to get this thing done. I don’t care how good my writing is as long as I get my point across.” 

“Okay,” you yawned. A moment later you found your head was resting on his left shoulder. He noticed but he didn’t seem to mind. Soon you felt your eyelids flutter over your eyes and you were out.

                                                            X

You woke up the next morning and found yourself in a room that was not your own. It was not the common room either. It was definitely a dorm but whose, you weren’t sure. 

“Morning sunshine,” someone said. You looked up to find George’s face smiling down at you. 

“Morning,” you mustered, as enthusiastically as you could. “Where am I exactly?” 

“In my room. See last night you fell asleep, and I didn’t want to wake you. I was going to carry you to your room but that wasn’t an option, with the enchantments and all. So I just took you to the next place I could think of, which was here.” 

“You could have woken me up. Or just left me on the couch in the common room, you know?” 

“Sure I could’ve, but you looked so peaceful sleeping. I couldn’t bring myself to wake you. And the common room was a bit nippy. I just thought you’d be more comfortable in my bed.” 

“Well that was very sweet of you. But where did you sleep?” 

“On the floor. I grabbed some spare pillows and blankets and-” 

“George! You didn’t have to sleep on the floor. You really should have just left me in the common room. I would’ve been fine. I never meant to take your bed.” 

“I just wanted you to be comfortable. Any gentleman would have done the same thing. Now please stop arguing with me because there isn’t anything you can do to change it.” 

You opened your mouth to say something but found you had nothing to say. Instead, you slouched and crossed your arms, clearly annoyed with his previous statement. 

“How did the essay come out?” 

“I showed it to Hermione already and she said it looked decent. I just need a passing grade. If I pass this, I pass the class.” 

“Oh, I didn’t realize this paper was so important...” 

“You did all you could. Most of it was on me, for being a slacker. But thank you. I’m really happy we got to hang out for a bit last night.” 

You smiled at him. “Me too. And it’s no problem. Really.” 

You left his room and headed to your room, receiving a few  curious looks on the way. Last night made you realize how much you had missed George. You used to be best friends growing up, but recently you drifted apart. You were still friends, but nowhere near as close as you used to be. You only hoped he would take your advice and ask you to hang out soon.

                                                           X

“Y/N!” You turned around to see who was calling you. It was George and he seemed very excited about something. You excused yourself from your current conversation and headed to see George. 

 “Y/N! I’ve been looking everywhere for you!” 

“Oh have you?” 

“Yes! Guess what?” 

“Do you really want me to guess? Because I’m not a great guesser.” 

“I got my paper back and I got an O!” 

“O as in outstanding!? That’s amazing!” 

“I owe it all to you! You practically wrote the paper for me.” 

“Don’t sell yourself short. You did all the heavy lifting on that paper. I was just there for moral support.” 

“You really don’t understand do you? You are the reason I passed! I couldn’t have done this without you” 

“I’m really happy for you George! I can’t remember the last time I saw you this excited.” 

“I am over the moon!” He embraced you in a hug and picked you up off the ground and spun you around. When he finally put you down, you just smiled at him. Then the last thing you ever expected to happen happened. His face became suddenly serious and he leaned in and kissed you. It was a relatively short kiss. It seemed like he just did it without thinking because he quickly pulled back and his face was that of panic and shock. 

“I’m so sorry. I don’t know what-” he started, before you cut him off. You grabbed his tie and pulled him down towards you to kiss him again, this time more passionately. He wrapped his arms around your waist and you reacted by snaking your arms around his neck. 

George pulled away and rested his forehead against yours. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that,” he breathed. 

“Well good, because you’re about to do it again.”

[creative-type]

I recently read Sharp Objects by Gillian Flynn on recommendation from a friend. Finished it in about a day, and have had it stuck in my head ever since. Not because I liked it -- quite the opposite, in fact -- but after finishing the last pages of the epilogue and setting the book down never to be revisited again, I had to ask myself a question:

Is it possible to read a book incorrectly? And if so, did I?

Spoilers and musings beyond the cut. Fair warning, Sharp Objects is a fairly dark book that covers some pretty heavy issues including cutting and abuse. Consider yourself warned

To start out with, I’m not a huge fan of death of the author. I do think the reader of a text has to take the effort to try and figure out what the author is trying to tell them. Consideration should be made for the time and place the work was written, the prevailing culture, and so on and so forth. A historical romance written today isn’t going to ever replicate completely the style of Jane Austin because the authors are drawing from two completely different frames of reference. Culture changes. Languages changes. How we tell stories changes. 

(Note: Not saying death of the author is inherently bad. It is just one of many systems of interpretation, and like every other system has its benefits and limitations. My hackles only raise when it becomes the only system of interpretation, as if it were intrinsically more valuable and valid than the rest /rant)

That being said, I think an author can be very subtle with the message they’re trying to send, or purposefully leave that message open to interpretation. And sometimes...sometimes sometimes the signals get crossed along the way, and the message that was intended never reaches the reader.

Which brings me to the point of this rambling mess of an analysis. I found Sharp Objects to be a dreary slog of a book. I knew it was dark going into the story, but there’s no levity inter-spaced between the overwhelming negativity to act as a reprieve between the elements of horror and tragedy. It has a very bleak opinion on the human condition in general and the small town the story takes place in particular. The ‘small town with a dark secret’ and the ‘family with a dark secret’ tropes are well-worn and familiar fodder for stories like these, but if I hadn’t read the author’s note at the end I would have thought that Flynn had never actually spent time in small-town America because it clashed so hard with my experience growing up in rural Iowa, the disconnect taking me out of the setting pretty early on. 

I’m sure some people enjoy this kind of storytelling -- and apparently enough did that they turned it into an HBO mini series -- but it’s not my cup of tea. Maybe it’s my small-town roots showing, but I was almost offended by the picture Flynn painted of the fictional town of Wind Gap. I can handle darkness, but not page after page, after stinking page of unlikable, mean-spirited bickering and backbiting. 

The mystery itself sparked enough curiosity to keep me engaged, but I’d pretty much figured out whodunit midway through the book on genre conventions alone. I figured about the fifth time someone remarked that the killer had to have been a man that it was probably going to be a woman, and was instantly suspicious that the main character’s sister’s illness was never named. 

About the same time I more or less knew who the killers likely were, I began to wonder if I was reading the book wrong. I was struck by how well-written the prose was, with several vivid descriptions helping carry me along even if I didn’t particularly like what was being described. The main character, a middling journalist named Camille, starts the book as a former cutter and current alcoholic, and her mental state goes downhill from there. At one point she takes Ecstasy with her (I think?) thirteen year old half-sister (who, along with their mother, never felt like an actually character to me and more like a collection of bizarre traits and behaviors smooshed together in the semblance of a human being. Like I said, there’s never really any doubt who the killers are) and later on has sex with a barely eighteen year old boy who happens to be the prime murder suspect. She’s in such a messed up state that she thinks the best way to make up for this lapse of judgement is to try and give a blow job to the lead detective of the case while they’re sitting in the police station. 

You know, as you do.

What made me think this way was the fact that the book’s written in the first person. I thought, if only for a moment, that perhaps we the reader was being led on by Camille’s own prejudice. It’s no secret that she hateed her hometown and the people she grew up with, and would rather leave her past behind than face the trauma she endured head on. No wonder she’s describing the sky before a rainstorm as the color of piss, or that she takes the time to mention a floating pube in the bath of a hotel on the way to Wind Gap. Of course all of her mother’s friend’s are equally as horrible as her mother, or that the girls she knew in high school would grow up to be just as shallow and vain. It made sense that she would describe the siblings of one of the victims as a fat, tantrum throwing girl and another as a dullard of a boy who would never amount to anything. A stubbornly pessimistic, barely functioning, disaster of a human being would see the negative in everything everywhere she went. 

All at once everything clicked into place, and I felt like the author and I were on the same wavelength. By the time I got three-quarters of the way through the book I could see it going one of two ways: 1) Camille would somehow be proven wrong about her assumptions and prejudices, which would in turn kick start some character development or 2) Camille would be right, and Wind Gap would be proven to be just as horrible as she already thought it was. I figured if that second option was taken it was likely for the story to have a somber, even tragic ending, as the weight of all these terrible secrets and pain broke our lead character completely. 

That’s...not what happened, and in strange display of pacing the true killer is only revealed during the epilogue (side note, I thought the reveal of where all the teeth were hidden was one of the best twists in the whole story). To be honest, it felt like the author tried to cram an entire sequel into the last 10 pages of the story, but long story short, Mama killed Camille’s sister during their childhood, but it was Baby Half Sister who did the present-day murders. After this stunning turn of events, Camille finds a knife and gives into the temptation she’d been fighting for the whole damn book, mutilating the one bit of unmarred skin she has left and the implication that she would have killed herself had someone not stopped her in time.

Ah, I thought to myself, tragedy it is. Not my favorite, but I could see how the author got from Point A to Point B and you could take a somber message about how the effect the environment a person is raised in affects them for the rest of their lives. 

If the book ended there I would have been fine with it. I still wouldn’t have liked it, but it would have made perfect sense. Instead we get this last little bit to tie all the loose ends neatly in a bow. Note this ending comes immediately after the relapse into self-mutilation, which itself burst onto the scene with very little warning and was over after one paragraph:

Curry and Eileen packed my things and took me into their home, where I have a bed and some space in what was once a basement rec room. All sharp objects have been locked up, but I haven’t tried too hard to get at them,

I am learning to be cared for. I am learning to be parented. I’ve returned to my childhood, the scene of the crime. Eileen and Curry wake me in the mornings and put me to bed with kisses (or in Curry’s case, a gentle chuck under the chin). I drink nothing stronger than the grap soda Curry favors. Eileen runs my bath and sometimes brushes my hair. It doesn’t give me chills, and we consider this a good sign. 

It is almost May 12, one year exactly from my return to Wind Gap. The date also happens to be Mother’s Day this year. Clever. Sometimes I think about that night caring for Amma, and how good I was at soothing her and calming her. I have dreams of washing Amma and drying her brow. I wake with my stomach turning and a sweaty upper lip. Was I good at caring for Amma because of kindness? Or did I like caring for Amma because I have Adora’s sickness? I waver between the two, especially at night, when my skin begins to pulse. 

Lately, I’ve been leaning toward kindness.

When I read that last sentence, the gears in head ground to an abrupt halt, and I immediately disconnected entirely from the story. Camille had spent the majority of this book being anything but kind. The only instance I can see that might fit into this characterization is an off-hand reference in the first chapter that her boss (the Curry mentioned here) thinks she’s too soft in her writing. 

I don’t know why these last paragraphs exist in this story. For all I know, the author couldn’t think of a way to finish the book and defaulted to a last-minute happy-ish ending. It is, after all, her debut novel. Hell, maybe it had been added at the insistence of her editor, or some other outside influence. 

Or maybe I’m just missing something. 

Death of the author demands that I, the reader, create my own meaning, but I simply can’t. Neither of the two readings I saw the potential for are supported by the text, and I find myself wandering back again and again to the matter of authorial intent. But for the life of me, I can’t figure out what the author’s trying to say. Either the story is too bleak to justify this...if not redemption, then healing for the main character, or the ending is too positive for the harsh and terrible world the author has gone through such pains to describe. You can’t have your cake and eat it too.

There is a third option: That even though the world is just as terrible and awful as you thought it was, recovery is still possible. It seems to be what that last page implies, but this is the weakest reading of all, if only because it doesn’t have time to develop. Three paragraphs does not a character arc make, and Camille spent too much time moping around being miserable to even consider the possibility of closure.

I think this might have been what the author was going for. It fits well with the metanarriative of the mystery itself. But if so, it’s a message poorly communicated, and even now I’m not sure what I’m supposed to take from the book.  

Again, on a technical level it’s very well-written, and undoubtedly I’m putting too much thought into what’s otherwise a generic murder mystery.  But I also think it’s important for the author’s voice to be heard in their work, even if that message gets a little muddled along the way. 

[aidanchaser]

Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban: Everyone Lives AU

Table of Contents beta’d by @ageofzero

Chapter One Owl Post

November 02, 1979

Dearest Cissy,

I’m afraid this may be the last letter I send. I’ve discovered that the things the Dark Lord plans to do are far worse than we ever imagined. I know Sirius always said I had a weak stomach, but I can’t keep pretending I’m okay with these things.

Get out while you can. Please, Cissy, I beg you to get out. Don’t tell Bella or your husband where you’re going, but just leave. Things will only get worse.

I won’t tell you what I’m about to do, for your sake. But I will tell you that the Dark Lord is not all that he claims to be and I will do everything I can to bring him down and protect the people and things that I love.

You’re truly the only family that I can trust with this. Please don’t let Mother know. It would break her heart, and Father’s health is weak enough as it is.

And if you do ever see Sirius, tell him I’m sorry.

Love,

Your dearest cousin Reggie

—————————— ✶✶✶——————————

Harry Potter was a highly unusual boy in many ways.

There were many things about Harry that were normal: He loved summer vacation. He loved sports. And most of all, he loved his family.

However, there were things about Harry that were not normal. For one, Harry was a wizard. Some might not find this strange. There are plenty of witches and wizards who would not be surprised at all by the fact that Harry Potter can do magic, or that he plays his favorite sport on a broomstick high in the air, chasing golden Snitches that fly on their own. But even within the community of wizards, Harry Potter was an odd boy.

For one thing, all witches and wizards knew the name Harry Potter. Everyone knew that as a baby, Harry Potter defeated You-Know-Who. Everyone knew that Harry Potter was marked with a scar that night, and some witches and wizards whispered that Harry Potter was The Chosen One.

What that meant for a boy with a scar on his head didn’t matter just yet. On the night in question, Harry was doing normal twelve-year-old boy things, like being bored with his homework.

Harry Potter did not find the essay on “Witch Burning in the Fourteenth Century” particularly interesting. He had just finished a year at his school, Hogwarts, where a threat to witches and wizards born of non-magical parents had been made. He was not feeling particularly sympathetic to witches and the fearful Muggles.

He could not seem to get much further than the first two paragraphs in his textbook, A History of Magic, by Bathilda Bagshot.

The old grandfather clock chimed in the hallway — twelve gentle chimes. The clock was magic, like everything else in this house, so after sunset, the clock did not chime loudly. It had no interest in waking the residents of the house.

The residents of the Potter Estate were Harry Potter and his parents, Lily and James Potter. It was a large house for three people, but Harry filled it with a lot of energy, as twelve and thirteen-year-old boys often do.

Of course, at midnight, his parents were sleeping, and he was awake doing homework.

There was still a month before school, so he thought finishing his History of Magic essay ridiculous. He’d already completed his Potions homework, with a lot of help from his mother, and his Transfiguration essay, with help from his father. The only person who could help him with History of Magic was Uncle Remus, who was not feeling well. Harry could wait a week until Uncle Remus was better, but he desperately wanted to visit his godfather, Sirius Black, this summer.

At school, Harry had broken several school rules, risked his own life, and saved the school in the process. Harry thought he deserved a lot of praise, which he did get. He earned an award for Special Services to the School, and he and Ron had won the House Cup competition for Gryffindor. The only problem was that Harry had two parents who worried about his safety. So Harry was grounded from Quidditch practice and visits with Sirius until his homework was done.

It sounded reasonable at the beginning of summer. During his school year, Harry had dueled another student, snuck away from teachers while the school was under a threat, and gone into a dangerous place to rescue a friend without seeking help from an adult. As great as Harry’s success had been, he had put himself in a lot of danger, and though the medicine was bitter to swallow, he had understood why his parents had grounded him. Now, a month later, struggling to finish his history essay at midnight on his birthday, it felt like the worst punishment his parents could give him.

Harry managed to get an outline of his essay completed by one am. He felt better about the assignment when he learned that burning witches did no harm to witches, who only had to cast a Freezing Charm to protect themselves from the flames.

As the clock chimed again, he realized he ought to go to bed. But it was summer vacation, and a bedtime was the one punishment his parents had not inflicted on him, so he’d taken to enjoying late nights as his only real form of freedom. He’d considered sneaking out on his Nimbus 2000, but it was locked away in a trunk at the foot of his parents’ bed. He’d already tried Alohamora, but it didn’t budge.

Just as Harry was thinking about climbing the stairs to bed, three owls tumbled through the open kitchen window.

An old gray owl, which Harry knew was Ron Weasley’s family owl, was helped into the dining room by a tiny brown owl. Harry didn’t recognize the small owl, but it was carrying a letter with the Hogwarts seal on the parchment, so Harry was sure it was his school books list. The third owl was a snowy white barn owl, proud and beautiful.

“Hello, Hedwig,” Harry smiled.

She flitted up to the table and nipped his finger affectionately, as if she were wishing him a happy birthday.

“What’ve you got there?” he asked in a whisper and untied the letter attached to her leg.

It turned out to be a birthday card from Hermione.

Dear Harry,

I hope you’re doing well and your parents haven’t given you too much trouble.

I’m on holiday in France at the moment and I didn’t know how I was going to send this to you — what if they’d opened it up in customs? — but then Hedwig turned up! I bought your present by owl-order; there was an advertisement in the Daily Prophet. I’ve been getting it delivered. It’s so good to keep up with what’s going on in the wizarding world. Did you see that picture of Ron and his family a week ago? I bet he’s learning loads. I’m really jealous. The ancient Egyptian wizards were fascinating.

There’s some interesting local history of witchcraft here, too. I’ve rewritten my whole History of Magic essay to include some of the things I’ve found out. I hope it’s not too long — it’s two rolls of parchment more than Professor Binns asked for.

Ron says he’s going to be in London the last week of the holidays. Can you make it? I hope your parents don’t keep you grounded all summer. I really hope you can come. If not, I’ll see you on the Hogwarts Express on September first!

Love from, Hermione

Harry had seen the picture of Ron the Daily Prophet last week. His mum had shown him the picture of the Weasley family, all nine of them, standing in front of the pyramids waving. He’d found it pretty unfair that Ron got to explore Egypt and Hermione was off in France and Harry was stuck at home. It wasn’t like he’d gotten into anymore trouble than Ron had.

Before opening Ron’s letter, Harry got the owls snacks and water. While they refreshed themselves, Harry read the letter the Weasley family owl Errol had brought him.

Dear Harry,

Happy birthday!

I hope you’re doing alright. Mum’s just about forgotten my being in trouble, with this trip to Egypt and having all her children in one place. I expect the Special Award we got helped too. I hope yours aren’t being too hard on you.

It’s amazing here in Egypt, by the way. Bill’s taken us around all the tombs and you wouldn’t believe the curses those old Egyptian wizards put on them. Mum wouldn’t let Ginny come in the last one. There were all these mutant skeletons in there, of Muggles who’d broken in and grown extra heads and stuff. I couldn’t believe it when Dad won the Daily Prophet Draw. Seven hundred galleons! Most of it’s gone on this trip, but they’re going to buy me a new wand for next year.

We’ll be back about a week before term starts and we’ll be going up to London to get my wand and our new books. Any chance of meeting you there?

Ron

P.S. Percy’s Head Boy. He got the letter last week.

Harry could almost hear the irritation in Ron’s voice about Percy. Harry remembered when he was eleven and Percy had just gotten his Prefect badge. He’d been quite showy about it, and Harry didn’t think he’d be any better about being Head Boy.

Now that he’d read his friends’ letters, it was time for the presents.

Harry opened the package from Ron first, and out tumbled what looked like a spinning top, except it was made of glass. The ones Sirius had given him from the Muggle stores had been made of wood. Harry had never seen one made of glass before.

The attached note said:

Harry — this is a Pocket Sneakoscope. If there’s someone untrustworthy around, it’s supposed to light up and spin. Bill says it’s rubbish sold for wizard tourists and isn’t reliable, because it kept lighting up at dinner last night. But he didn’t realize Fred and George had put beetles in his soup.

Bye —

Ron

Harry spun the top, but nothing happened. Harry thought it odd he’d never seen a Pocket Sneakoscope before, because he and Sirius had probably found just about every kind of magical toy there was. Maybe this wasn’t a toy. Or maybe it really was a rubbish souvenier.

Next, he opened Hermione’s gift. It was heavy, and he was expecting a book from her, but it turned out to be a Broomstick Servicing Kit. He was grateful for it — he’d nearly run out of Fleetwood’s High-Finish Handle Polish at the end of last year — except it made him frustrated he wasn’t allowed to use his broom.

He was about to open the third parcel, that had come with the Hogwarts owl, when he heard a door creak.

Harry looked up and saw his father walk into the dining room, wearing a bathrobe over his pajamas. He looked blearily at the lit gas lamps and then at Harry.

“You’re still awake?” James asked.

“I wanted to finish this before my birthday,” Harry said, and tapped his parchment.

James took a step back into the hallway to check the grandfather clock. “Ah, I’m sorry you aren’t finished yet, but happy birthday.”

“Thanks.”

“Your mum’s snoring, so I was just going to whip up a light sleeping potion. I see you already got some presents.” As James went into the kitchen, Harry followed.

“Yeah, Ron and Hermione. I think the last one’s from Hagrid. It came with my Hogwarts letter.”

“Wow, summer’s half over already.” James opened up the potions cupboard and pulled down a handful of bottles and jars. “We’ll have to get your school supplies soon.”

While James brewed the Sleeping Draught, Harry chatted about his presents from Ron and Hermione and the gifts they’d given him. When he’d finished telling his father about those, Harry started complaining about his essay. James had a few things to add to it, but not much.

“You should ask Remus on Thursday,” James said.

“But I want to be done with the essay now,” Harry sighed. “I want at least one weekend at Sirius’s.”

“You’ll have plenty of time to spend with Sirius,” James laughed. “I think your mother will agree that one month of grounding is enough. Besides, I miss playing Quidditch with you.”

Harry smiled. He had been suspecting for a while that his father was as gloomy about his grounding as he was. It was his mother who seemed terrified to let him out of the house. In her defense, she’d watched him fight an enormous basilisk at the end of May and nearly die from basilisk venom. She had earned some right to be over-protective.

For the hour that the Sleeping Draught simmered, James helped Harry finish his essay on witch burnings. That way they would have something to help argue to Lily that Harry’s grounding should be lifted.

Harry rolled up the parchment and sealed it. All summer homework was completed.

He went ahead and opened his present from Hagrid while James went to finish off the potion.

Inside the package was a book with scaly green binding, like a dragon’s hide. The title was printed in gold: Monster Book of Monsters. Harry didn’t get any further than that, because the book started snapping at his hands. Harry dropped it immediately. The book fell to the floor and started gnawing on the table leg. When Harry reached down to grab it, it bit his hand. He yelped, and his father came running.

James saw the book and dove to tackle it, but skittered away on its edge. James’s head hit the china cabinet. Thanks to some old Stabilizing Charms, nothing fell down. But the noise did wake Lily. The gas lamp in the hallway sprang to life and she walked into the kitchen with a robe over her pajamas.

“What is going on in — oh!” The book snapped at her bare feet and she quickly stomped on the cover, squishing the book closed. “Harry, James, what is this?”

James took the tie off of his own bathrobe and tied the book shut. “Harry’s birthday present from Hagrid. I suppose we shouldn’t be surprised.”

“He says I’ll find it useful next year,” Harry said as he read over the birthday card Hagrid had sent him. “I wonder why.”

“What are the two of you even doing up?” Lily asked as she looked at the letters and wrappings on the table. “James, we’re doing presents in the morning.”

“These are from my friends,” Harry said quickly. “I was up finishing my homework and Hedwig brought them.”

“Oh.” Lily rubbed her eyes with the heel of her hand. “It’s nearly three am. Both of you need to be in bed. Come on.” Lily turned off the gas lamp and the dining room went dark.

“Just got to clean up the potion, Lils,” James said. “Then I’ll be right —”

Before he could finish, a silver swan soared through the window. It passed through the glass, which surprised Harry. And then Harry realized it wasn’t a real swan at all, but some sort of silver projection of a swan.

The swan floated through the glass and came to rest on the table, where it vanished in a gentle burst of light.

“Alice?” Lily asked and turned the light back on.

“She never was good at the speaking part,” James said. “She’s probably just letting us know she’s Apparating —”

There was a loud knock at the door.

“Harry, can you put the cauldron away?” James asked, and followed Lily to the door.

Harry frowned, but did as his father asked. He had no interest in pressing the issue of being grounded.

He put the potion supplies back in the cupboard and washed out the cauldron, then replaced it under the sink. He was surprised he couldn’t hear his parents talking. The only Alice he knew of was Alice Longbottom, his friend Neville’s mother, and she was very loud. He turned the lights out in the kitchen, then the dining room, then poked his head into the hallway.

It was Alice Longbottom, still in the entryway. She was talking to his parents in hushed whispers. He only caught the end of it:

“We’ll both stay with you,” Lily said. “Harry’s been wanting to see Sirius anyway. Just give us a bit of time to pack.”

Harry didn’t understand at all. Alice left, and he heard the crack of her Apparating away once she crossed outside the Anti-Apparition line.

“What’s going on?” Harry asked.

“I’m sorry, Harry,” James said. “Your mother and I are going to stay with the Longbottoms for a few days. You know we wouldn’t do this if it wasn’t important.”

Lily leaned over and kissed his forehead. “You’ll stay with Sirius while we’re there, okay? I’m sure you two will have a wonderful time.”

Harry was not very used to ruined birthdays. Last year had been the first disaster, visiting his Muggle cousin. This year, he’d expected to be ungrounded for his birthday, and to fly his broom again. But instead, he was being sent off to Sirius’s while his parents went to stay with someone else?

“I’m so sorry,” Lily said. “You know we love you, and we would never do this if it wasn’t an emergency. Go get your things you’ll want to take to Sirius’s. We’ll need to leave quickly.”

Harry grabbed the Sneakoscope and Broomstick Servicing Kit off the dining room table. He left behind the biting book.

[gay-jesus-probably]

You have a lot of fans wondering what happened to you in fan fiction. Like me. My gay Jesus, where has our savior gone?

...bro....

Okay first things first: that is probably the nicest thing anyones ever said to me???? holy shit anon i love you.

Secondly... yeah theres not really an excuse here, i just... havent been feeling it. 

Not helped by the fact that I got a new laptop back in the spring, and while I transfered all my files over no problem, I was pirating microsoft word on my old computer, and my usual source of pirated materials (read: dad) gave me a file for it that my computer immediately read as a nasty virus and now refuses to ever interact with again, so. while i have everything, and can look at it whenever I want, i can’t interact with my files in any way shape or form. like, no edits, no additions, i can’t even fucking copy+paste. So I’m using google docs now, except with literally all of my WIPs, the outlining and new chapter files were not complete. So if I want to do any work on them, then it’ll have to be split between beginning on a Word doc, and then picking up on google docs partway through, which seems real fuckin inconvenient so it hasn’t happened yet.

My options are to either cough up and buy the microsoft package, which i dont have the money for, or to find a better pirate source, which is also not an option bcause dad is a giant drama queen and he flips shit and has a guilt trip meltdown if he thinks hes not being appreciated, so me informing him his pirated word didnt work several months after he gave it to me? will not go over well, so there is not a chance in hell i’m doing that. The only solution is to go on my old laptop where i CAN alter the files, and copy-paste them all into google docs, but like... hooooly shit. we’re talking a lot of content here. my outlines tend to get... lengthy, because they’re mostly me rambling to myself. and there’s a lot of WIP projects i’ve got. basically i COULD handle it, but i’m too lazy to actually do so lmao, especially since the whole process would take twice as long cause my old laptop has some case damage around the hinge, which is also by the power button, and means that if the screen moves at all there is a 75% chance it will turn off the laptop. and that gets real old real fast.

All that clusterfuck aside, if we’re talking specific projects, then the rough summary is under the readmore:

Displacement and Division: Haven’t been feeling it. Don’t think I’ve written any new content since I last updated, which was... aaa while ago. I promise, no matter how long it takes, I AM coming back to this one. It’s too far to walk now. It just... may take awhile. Doesn’t help that the outlines and a fair chunk of the next chapter for both fics are locked up in Word. Don’t obsessively check for updates, but hang in there. I’m coming back.

Hooked Into A Machine and Nobody’d Even Notice At All: Both were initially created due to the Great Gods of Hyperfixation causing me to lock into Be More Chill when i discovered it, quickly burn through the entire fandom, and start frantically producing my own content out of sheer frustration. When the hyperfixation wore off... i was able to enjoy non-BMC content again, and wandered off. Whenever I wander back in, updates will occur. ...Don’t hold your breath on these.

Ghost in the Machine: Mix of the two problems, as it was written in the middle of a hardcore Tron hyperfixation, and when I came down, I wandered away. Chapter 3 is about halfway done, only problem is that’s... all locked in Word. Yeah. There’ll probably be more whenever I come back to Tron. It ain’t dead yet.

Cold Flame/Lunam Ignis: Honestly, trying to write a full blown fic of this concept was probably stretching it a bit for me. I had ideas and scenes for Axelnort in DDD, and I wanted to use them, but I felt the need to build up to them first. That... was a mistake, because I didn’t really have anything for Days, and only a handful of stuff for KHII. Honestly, I’d safely call Lunam Ignis dead, I have 0 plans of coming back to that one.

Seemingly Simple Things: These were two blurbs written as a joke, that I probably should not have tried to continue. Don’t expect a chapter 3... well, ever. Apologies all, but I feel anything further would roll over from ‘funny’ to ‘forced’, and I’d rather not. It be like that sometimes.

I’m pretty sure that’s all of my WIPs? If any of these made you go ‘wait what the fuck when was that’, I’ve got an AO3 and an FF.net account, and tbh? my crossposting is not reliable. Some are on both, but a fair amount of fics have just been posted to one or the other. It be like that.

I know I’ve been dead since January (on FF.net) and April (on AO3), but you are going to have to wait a bit - we’re back into NaNo season, so fic is not high on the priority list at the current moment. Apologies, fam.

And now the good news! I AM still writing plenty! Just, none of its gotten to the point of being postable. I’ve had some less intense small fandom hyperfixation frustration fic bursts, so if anyone’s also into TribeTwelve, Stand Still Stay Silent, or Check Please!, then there may be some content going up from those - I’ve got multiple fics in progress for all of those that aren’t just self indulgent fuckery, and will be posted if I can work on them enough to make the plausible.

As for my WIP’s, as I said above, Ghost in the Machine DOES have a chapter 3 about halfway done, and a complete outline for part 1, so that finishing is looking very good whenever I get around to it.

With Displacement, while the next chapter doesn’t have much, the outlines done through to part 7, so I know exactly where we’re steering this trainwreck, and I’ve got a few rough drafts of key scenes in part 4 and 5. I’ve also started on interludes 4 and 5. For those curious, interlude 4 is several non-Evie clones in the 420th unknowingly re-enacting Die Hard, and Michelle’s hair dye saves the day while also causing some truly impressive property damage. The stains left by that incident are never coming out. Interlude 5 is less fun, and more character exploration - namely, the main characters and their thoughts on Michelle. After the events of Part 5, trust me - there’s going to be a LOT of conflict in that area. Especially from Obi-Wan.

As for Division, while I admit the outline is a lot more shaky, and there’s less actual work done, I DO know who the cast is and what I’m doing with them, and I’ve got some rough drafts of crucial scenes, even if I don’t know exactly where those scenes happen yet. It’s gonna be a ride, yall.

And the final, most important piece of good news: As I’m sure you’ve noticed, i am a bitch that really likes talking about their writing. Literally anyone can hit me up asking about anything of mine, and I will probs spam you with a small essay, such as I just did. Tbh, if someone actually did message me to talk about my writing, I give it like a few hours of chatting before I’m linking that someone to a relevant google doc, and/or explaining the entire plot. ...Provided they’re cool with the spoilers, mind you. I ask that first. So seriously - while updates may not be coming until december at the earliest, if you want something to tide you over, be it rough drafts or just paragraphs of information, hit me up. I am literally always down to enthusiastically rant about my writing lmao.

...That goes twice as hard for my original projects, fyi, if someone sent me a message asking about my NaNo project I’d probably cry with joy and tell them everything. it helps me Plot.

The other benefit to messaging me is that I have good cats who are very cute and loving, and I have a compulsive need to show Every Single Person i interact with pics of them, so that’s another inevitable to talking to me.

look at these good kids

[zydrateacademy]

Review - Ghost Recon: Wildlands

I have something of a mixed relationship with GRW. I hated damn near every second of the open beta they hosted. The vehicle controls are some of the worst parts of the game and sadly they comprise of a large portion of the game. Adding to that, the textures came and went as they damn well pleased, turning my roads into a muddy, blocky and clipping mess while the game itself stuttered with extremely low levels of frames per second. Thankfully the graphical issues were fixed (with some tweaking on the full release, apparently I cannot go above medium textures without stressing my computer out, but high on everything), some other things... really weren’t. Don’t get me wrong, this game has plenty of merit that are simply flanked by the occasional irritation and I’ll get into them both.

We begin as “Nomad”, the code name for a fully customizeable character, male or female (Ubisoft finally got the hang of that, aye?) in a helicopter on our way to a heavily fictionalized (downright alternate universe, really) version of Bolivia. We’re sent to figure out who tortured some U.S. agents but that quickly becomes a mere framing device for your employment as the game itself doesn’t seem too concerned with its own story and more about just destabilizing a cartel. You find the people responsible in the first area of the game and I guess you’re just ordered to remain to take down the local Santa Blanca drug cartel, and the game just lets you loose from there.

I’ll give the game credit here; nothing in their big open world is closed to you. Despite the alleged “difficulty” marks you see on the map, you can immediately hightail across the map whenever you please. With some friends joining me, I asked what the best sniper scope available was and they took me to it and we had some fun times against a very high level Unidad (the very corrupt law enforcement/government, I’m not sure which) fortress. I’ll talk more about the multiplayer aspect later but it just proved that the game doesn’t mind you going anywhere you want at all. However you will very likely need to exceed at stealth tactics because you will be facing opponents that will shake off your attacks without having all your toys available. While the game is a very sandy sandbox, it fails to understand why some superior games in the genre get so popular. While the game has plenty of convoy missions, diversions and side missions for you to get distracted by and earn that sweet loot and experience, it has an extreme lack of things to do in transit. I’m reminded of a space game where it had a large expansive universe but I’d sometimes be staring at the ass of my ship for a few minutes while warp speeding my way towards the objective. GRW feels the same way in some cases. It showers you with helicopters for the most part but there’s not always one readily available until you level up some Rebel support enough so large portions of the game are spent driving across the country with not a damn thing to do. You’ll occasionally run into an enemy controlled township (as they ‘hoid’ the country, this does make sense) that you can start sniping at but if you have a specific objective in mind there’s not really a point. This problem only gets worse if you got all of the collectible weapon parts (or at least, the ones you care about since it tells you what they are on the map) and skill points. It all just feels so empty at times. In case you’re wondering what kind of game this is, it is a third person RPG. The RPG system is superficial but sometimes useful. I find myself focusing on my personal weapon skills as well as my drone, the two most used things.

That “epic skill” there will give me 30% accuracy at long range which is incredibly useful. While the drone tree gives me battery, range, and a whole host of upgrades like an EMP blast, noisemakers and more. The drone is probably my favorite gimmick in this game, acting as a logical upgrade to the simply binoculars you get in Far Cry games. While every enemy group will give you this vague red blob that tells you the general vicinity an enemy might be, the drone allows you pinpoint their exact location so you can plan your attacks properly.

It sounds easy enough but there’s a lot of interiors that enemies can be hiding in which can be hard to find, and it’ll ruin your plan of attack if there’s one little asshole you can’t quite find. If I sound happy about some of this, it’s because the stealth and gunplay are where this game really shines. At your disposal you have three NPCs that will follow you around (they all disappear if as much as one person joins your game but that’s okay, because people tend to be smarter than the NPCs anyway) that are mercifully invisible to enemies in general. Their AI makes them ‘try’ to take logical cover but it doesn’t always work as they practically hug enemies from nearby bushes. Or the one time I used them to sync shot three enemies... while all three of them were swimming in water behind me. That’s another mechanic I have thus far forgot to mention (there’s a lot to unpack here), sync shot. It reminds me of Splinter Cell’s execution mechanic but it’s more for team play than slow-mo multiple murder that Sam Fisher is capable of. It starts out with only one slot but you eventually upgrade it for your entire team. The mechanics of it is a bit wonky as I mentioned my three swimming idiots in the last paragraph but it does have it’s uses. They can apparently shoot through most obstacles even though, once you mark enemies they need a few seconds to ‘find a shot’, but one of my lemmings found a shot while hugging a rocky hill. Still, they’re always stealthy and silent and very useful for helping me thin out the herd of a particularly harrowing stronghold. The only issue I run into is enemies will quickly find bodies that way but like most stealth games, they’ll return to their duties in a minute or so of searching.

There’s a sort of subtle ‘bonus sneak damage’ type stat in the background. I notice most enemies only take one hit to take down (even heavily armored mates as long as it’s a headshot), but if they’re alerted then they take a few more hits. I’m not sure how that works on a realistic standpoint but this game is a better middleground between Call of Duty and The Division when it comes to ballistics. When things go wrong, the gunplay is solid enough. So far no encounter felt particularly impossible, just with a spike of difficulty if I manage to foolishly miss a vital sniper shot against an enemy sniper, who always wield binoculars for themselves atop their towers and will see your ass if you’re flailing around in the open. Guns themselves have a whole array of mods you can collect and change but quite frankly, I don’t even really know what “weapon handling” even means. I usually sacrifice it if I can get some more accuracy or range, while rate of fire and penetration are less relevant to me. Many other reviews have likely already talked about how playing with friends is damn near a requirement, but I found it to be a mixed blessing. Human players are clearly leagues more intelligent than the AI but they lack the mechanical invisibility your NPC mates do and typically have their own goals in mind. The gentlemen who joined me had the decency to allow me to aim our directions towards what I needed (one of them had passed the maximum level and was mostly in it for tier experience, I’m not sure what all that is yet) but it still led to highly varied encounters that ranged from both hilarious to incredibly annoying. One time, a guy didn’t like where he placed his mine but they can’t be picked up so on a hunch I shot at it... with another teammate standing right next to it downing him immediately and netting a rather harsh “I hate team kills”. Y’know, despite the fact that I had been very new to the game to begin with, acting like I did it on purpose. Another time we were stalking some kind of enemy VIP in a convoy. We got to him, pulled him out of the enemy vehicle and started the interrogation and an enemy... apparently still alive and driving, decided to back into them both and we failed the mission because the subject died. We all laughed about it and didn’t mind at all. Another time we were trying to capture a helicopter (the only vehicle I can drive even vaguely well, and not even in battle) but instead of pressing Z for the drone to scan a couple enemies we didn’t find yet, I somehow pressed G instead, throwing a grenade right on top of the helicopter carrying those medical supplies I really wanted. Well, the rebels didn’t really want the ashes of supplies so it was an instant fail due to some really strange muscle memory on my part. It was hilarious, but my partner at the time has yet to let me forget it.

So playing with people is a mixed bag in its own right and I’m sure there’s plenty of fun to be had and stories to be made like my three examples above. However, it can be played solo so you can have very clean sync shots and three invisible allies that follow you around, not doing much unless you tell them to. So you can choose between having three mindless AI’s... or one to three people who very much have minds of their own and have no control over. Live or die, make your choice. One brief nitpick and a moderate complaint before I summarize. Firstly, I find my girl’s voice acting abysmal most of the time. Sometimes it’s find, like when spotting targets she’ll pipe up with some “ten hostiles”. Other times when finishing missions she’ll say something like “I love my job”, but with the same inflection I’d have just waking up and saying “I love this cereal”. That is to say, completely monotone because my vocal chords haven’t been used for several hours. Or another time where she felt the need to call out the fact that she was... getting on a damn motorbike. Madame, that did not require a tactical announcement. Just why? Secondly, and you’ll probably find this in every other review of this game but I do feel the need to mention it in my own. The vehicle controls are some of the worst, reminding me that of Watch_Dogs. It makes sense, same developers and all. Now, I know some people who didn’t mind the driving in W_D but it made the first game unbeatable (and I’ve only played an hour of the second) for me. There’s plenty of dedicated chase missions and convoys to assault so trying to chase those fuckers in some random cargo truck I picked up because it was the only thing available in the parking lot when my enemy started hauling ass. To wit, the enemy AI seems to function under much different rules than we do. When I get in a helicopter it takes a solid several seconds for the engine and rotaries to rev up to flight. However I cannot count how many helicopter capture missions I have failed because the pilot gets in at the slightest provocation (they don’t wait for open combat, as soon as the alert level goes yellow they’re gone) they hop in, shut the door, and immediately go straight up and pilots are damn hard to shoot out of planes in this game. To be fair, it’s all probably bulletproof due to the narrative. Rebels, drug cartels and corrupt governments probably don’t want all their stuff that easily destroyed. Makes sense, but it’s damn annoying to face against.

Meanwhile, like W_D, a mere rock or fence can send my pickup truck flailing in the air like a damn cartoon which can completely derail a chase or mission. So the open beta was extremely lackluster for me and the game continues to be haunted by abysmal vehicle controlling. However those are temporary, minute-long annoyances that are flanked by great stealth and gunplay. Those moments where I infiltrated an entire Unidad compound, using three entire sets of sync shots (there’s a cooldown) and left with the objective without too much of a fuss. Those moments really shine and it’s what keeps me coming back. Say what you want about Ubisoft and their practices, but they have a pretty good formula for stealth so as long as their games remain fun, I’ll be a returning customer.

[whatkindofshowisthis-blog]

It’s been quite a while

I don’t even know how long it’s been at the time of typing this because I didn’t bother to look.  It doesn’t even matter because this isn’t meant for anyone but me and there will be a timestamp should I ever give a shit.  What’s happened since last time?  A fuckton of stuff has happened.  I’m a completely different person, have everything going for me.  I’ve graduated college, got a great paying job, not even a virgin anymore, which is a story I will delve into in this post, but first let me finish telling you how great I am.  I busted my ass for 6 years and ended up with two AA degrees and realized I’m the best at anything i put my mind to.  Remember that last statement, because here it comes:  I feel like a complete failure and want to either kill myself or have something kill me, i haven’t decided which.

So why would I feel this way?  A logical question anyone would and should ask after such greatness purported in that last paragraph.  Last year this amazing girl came into my life.  She was an underclassmen in the radiography program i was in.  I met her while tutoring her and her classmates.  She came onto me, since i still can’t muster up an ounce of courage to talk to a woman.  We flirted over text for a month until i called out sick to work in order to ask her out to lunch.  That would be the day I lost my virginity and embarked on the first relationship of my life.

This relationship was the dream for me.  She didn’t want much, just to be in my company, and to have sex like all the fucking time.  I discovered that sex wasn’t all that i had built it up to be in my mind over 27 years, but still amazing nonetheless and I was always willing (if not always able).  Sex was and still is the last thing on my mind, i discovered what i mostly need is companionship.  I enjoyed cuddling far more than sex and she was always a willing participant.  Over the next 9 months we would see each other constantly and text everyday.  There were several glaring red flags, all of which i completely ignored, because fuck it, we’re different, we can make it, against all odds.  Boy if that wasn’t the dumbest fucking idea I had.  I will attempt to list the red flags as i hit on them.

Red flag #1:  This girl had just broken with her boyfriend of 7 years.  Yes, years, not months, years.  Literally from age 18 to 25 and then as soon as he moved out we were fucking.  How the hell did I know that i was a rebound yet continued moving forward without missing a beat?

After a few weeks and dates and sexual escapades later i asked her to be my girlfriend, which leads to:

Red flag #2:  She was hesitant about the idea when i said it.  I pressured her into it by saying that i already saw her as my girlfriend.  How the hell was i so naive?

Things got along great after that, and time went by and we both handled our school business and would still find time to see each other.  One drunk night, after a whole bottle of wine, i told her I loved her:

Red flag #3:  She didn’t reciprocate.  “NOT A PROBLEM!”  My scumbag brain responded.  I had all the patience in the world to wait for her to say it back.  I’m sure you can see where this is going.  She never did.  No matter how many times I said it to her.  What the fuck is wrong with me?

Months go by, we do some cute stuff here and there, we even went on a week long vacation to her parents’ house in west virginia.  I felt like that was our biggest bonding moment.  The rest of it is kind of a blur, so it must be rather uneventful.  We reach the end of the year 2016, which was destined to be a stressful time for me as I’m graduating, preparing for boards, along with the usual holiday bullshit to contend with.  None of it ever stopped me from trying to spend time with her and get her to do things, but it was around this time that she really wouldn’t find time to see me:

Red flag #4:  She would rarely find time to see me anymore.  After moving closer to her, she rarely would come up to see me or do anything with me.  It would always be me going to see her.  We would never go out and do what we had planned, it would just be us getting drunk, fucking, and me or her leaving for work the next morning.

My parents insisted on getting her a christmas present.  She was always too proud to ever accept anything of value.  I mentioned a TV and they ran with the idea, i had no part in it as we agreed not to get each other anything.  It was around this time that she began chatting with her ex boyfriends best friend.  I’m sure you know what comes next:

Red flag #5:  This guy, at least from what i could gain from my facebook stalking skills, was already in a relationship.  It seemed more and more like she wanted to be with him.  In my mind it was either that or she was trying to make her ex jealous.  I don’t know which, but it didn’t matter.  If she wanted to go out with her friends, then who am I to tell her not to, that’s not what good boyfriends do.

December comes around and she was well aware that she was wanted at my aunt’s house for christmas.  As fate would have it she was gravely ill and didn’t come.  She was definitely sick, but it was clear she used it as a convenient excuse not to come.  This is where that feeling in the pit of my stomach grew to large to bear, like smoke on the horizon, i knew what was coming.

I took the TV to her place christmas night as I held her in my arms she told me she couldn’t accept it.  I knew why, I FUCKING KNEW WHY.  Instead i brushed it off and left it there while i stayed the night.  We had a great night together and a next day.  That was the day my life ended, I’m still breathing obviously, but my life is over.  I asked her to send my mom a thank you, and she broke it to me that she wanted to split up.  That last sentence right there is the hardest fucking thing to type, i’m tearing up just replaying that in my head.

Feeling everything and nothing all at once, I went through the next few days, distraught and begging her to reconsider and to give me a reason that wasn’t her initial reason of “i need the pressure of being alone to make friends and be social.”  I didn’t get what I wanted, I got my heart ripped from my body so that I am destined to walk the earth, devoid of love.

She told me we could still have sex, and i couldn’t even process the thought of that even though on the outside i agreed to it.  Later, after more begging she said to just give her time to think about getting back together.  Our last night together was new years.  She got drunk out of her mind and cooked a great meal, we had amazing kinky sex, and that was it.  We said goodbyes over coffee the next morning and I left.

I contacted her constantly while going through the initial raw emotion.  I had visited my parents almost daily and cried to my mother incessantly.  I asked her out for lunch and she was incredibly cold the whole time and was a constant bitch to me when i tried to make conversation.  I knew that was it and there was not point dragging it out any longer.  I told her if she didn’t want me back, then me walking out the door would be the last contact we ever had.  That is what i tried to make happen.  I blocked her, then unblocked her, poured my heart out, gave her a long letter and shoved a box of anything i could find that reminded me of her in her face.

3 months later i don’t know what i’ll do.  I walk around hoping someone or something kills me.  I ride my motorcycle without a helmet at 120, hoping that fate will just make the decision for me.  Other times i want revenge on her so badly that I would consider shooting myself in the head in her bedroom.  I’ve gone through flashes of kidnapping her and torturing her, but that isn’t something I would ever be capable of, i’m not a fucking savage.

So there it is, what my life has been in a nutshell since i last used this blog.  Seems I may be back to square one.  I’ve got everything anyone could want, except this one thing and somehow i act like that’s what defines me.  27 years I had to wait for any attention from a woman, how long will it be now?  Another 27 years?  Who the fuck wants to date a single 54 year old?  I’m out of patience at this point, but everyday i don’t kill myself is another day i dig deep down and find some.

A lot of things I’ve been through make me believe in fate, and i think that belief is what keeps me going.  I believe anything you go through happens for a reason.  I look at the paths i’ve walked that got me here and think “if not for that i wouldn’t have experienced all I have.”  I don’t know why this happened and anyone reading this is probably thoroughly confused.  I believe this happened for a reason, what that reason is, i haven’t the slightest idea.  I have a few hypotheses but they’re just guesses.  Time will tell where this experience will take me, assuming i can wait that long.