#and asks would be a great way for me to actually focus on one concept at a time based on whatever you guys are curious about

[pekoeboo]

ugh. some thoughts.

really been trying to find the joy in drawing/writing again and honestly it's been such a challenge. friends have told me it's most likely depression that's making it hard to feel motivated and tbh they're probably right.

hoping to get back into being creative in the way I Want to be at some point tho. I miss it. there's still so much with my stories and characters that I haven't been able to share or explain and I wish I knew how without it feeling like this daunting, impossible task.

I don't know when I'll get around to actually sharing art again (or writing, if ever). was hoping that I'd manage to get some of my mental and physical issues in check recently for just long enough to get back into the swing of being creative, but that hasn't seemed to work. everything feels bad, both artistically and physically. I'm struggling to keep up with the frantic pace at which my brain comes up with story concepts and intriguing character interactions, even tho everything in me wishes I could turn it into tangible artistic expression so I can get it out of my head and share it. it used to be easy. I don't know why it's not now.

I'm just . tired, I guess.

[wisteria-lodge]

What do you think a wizarding wedding would look like, and what do you think Lucius' and Narcissa's specifically looked like?

The book does show us Fleur and Bill's wedding, but that was a wartime shotgun-ish wedding in the peripherals of the story's focus. I'm also not ever sure how much of the details there are things joanne really thought about and decided to include in her representation of a Magical wedding, and how much of it are just modern social customs she might have considered the forever universal default and put in the book.

Narcissa and Lucius also seem to be the rare fictional couple who'd actually enjoy all the pedantry and tradition and specificities in a wedding to me. Seeing as you're writing a fic with them in it, I thought you'd probably already thought about this aspect of worldbuilding/character writing, so I hope you don't mind me asking abt it. Thanks and have a great day!!

Okay, I love this ask, and I'm going to lay it all out, but first I want to lay out my Reasoning.

Here are my rules, when it comes to expanding on/filling in the Harry Potter world building:

ONE: If we’re dealing with any sort of political or social structure, my reference is England, year 1700. 

This does make sense with the backstory we get: the Wizarding World split away from the Muggle world in the late 1600s, wizards live a really long time, and wizards also didn’t need an industrial revolution (because magic filled the place of tech) so they wouldn’t have gotten any of the social changes that happened because of the industrial revolution. 

Also, this particular time period generally fits with what we see on the page. Education, politics, the police force, mental health care - it all seems to work in a very 1700s way. We don’t have any electricity, there’s no industrialization. (Like, Umbridge’s pamphlets are made by hand. I mean obviously they’re made by magic, but an individual’s magic, they’re not assembled in a magical factory.) So when Draco brings up a “museum”...  it makes sense to me that he’s not not thinking of a modern museum with a ticketing department running off grants and public funding, full of typed-out little plaques written by scientists and historians, telling you the provenance of whatever you’re looking at. If we went to a museum in Wizarding World, I would expect the type of museum you saw in 1700: a cabinet of curiosities assembled by one single wealthy collector, arranged in some eccentric way, handwritten labels or no labels at all, very probably in a wing of a private house. That feels correct and in-universe to me. So… whenever someone asks me something like ‘how do taxes work in the Harry Potter universe,’ I take 1700 England as a starting place, and go from there. 

TWO: If we’re dealing with aesthetic details or inventions, I draw from England 1700 - 1880

There isn’t much that’s Victorian in the world building… but there’s plenty in the set dressing. We see lots of 1800s fashion: women wearing hats with birds and flowers on them, men wearing bowler hats and top hats. There are 1800s hedge mazes, most of the holiday decorations are from the late 1800s, we’ve got radios and trains… and I’m completely fine with all that. It seems to me that if you’re a wizard walking through the Muggle world, it’s a lot easier to see someone wearing a cool hat, and say ‘I would like a hat like that’  - versus walking around and picking up the concept of, idk unions. So cameras are okay: they’re 1800s. Note that Rita Skeeter’s photographer Bozo has a magical version of a 1850s camera

while Muggle born Colin Creevey has… a modded 1930s camera? To communicate that he’s got a foot in both worlds. 

My point is, if you saw someone riding a bicycle in Harry Potter, you would assume they brought it in from the Muggle world. Bicycles showed up in England in the 1880s, so that’s slightly too late. It’s important to the feel of the world to keep up a good chunk of separation between the aesthetics of the Wizarding World, and the aesthetics of the muggle world.

THREE: Gender politics/gendered customs basically don’t exist

This is one of the things that makes Harry Potter a J. K. Rowling fantasy world. Obviously, JKR the person has a lot to unpack about gender politics, and there are all kinds of Doylist differences between the way male and female characters are treated in the Harry Potter books. But in universe, there is no Watsonian benefit to being a guy or being a girl in any particular situation. We get gendered bathrooms (although the prefects’ bathroom and the locker rooms seem co-ed), gendered fashions, gendered dorms… and that’s basically it.  

Of course there are some very old and baked in gendered things I doubt JKR even thought about… a woman taking her husband’s last name for instance. (Honestly - I would have loved a posh doubled-barreled name for Draco. Draco Malfoy-Black sounds quite sharp and public schooly.) There’s a thing where Dumbledore mentions that the Blacks prefer it when a guy inherits… but in the same breath, he’s completely convinced Bellatrix is about to inherit, so clearly that isn’t that important.

The only other example I can think of is the way we’re told the unicorns prefer the female students. But, the boys in Professor Grubbly-Plank’s class unanimously think this is bullshit, and I would argue that the framing of the book supports this read. We haven’t seen magic work like this before, so did Professor G-P get it wrong? And/or just doesn’t want to deal with the boys? Presumably this is why we are happy Hagrid is coming back

FOUR: There is basically no organized religion/spirituality in the Wizarding World. 

The narrative does a lot of work to not tell us who the random officiant at Dumbledore's funeral and Bill and Fleur‘s wedding is. Who is he? Who does he represent? How do you find him? How does he have authority to do this? Not important, doesn’t matter, keep moving along. We are definitely in a world where there is a holiday named Christmas… but it’s like the women taking their husband's name thing, that seems too baked into JKR’s worldview to question. But there is no mention of any religious dimension, it’s just presents and feasts and balls. 

If I’m writing something that’s interested in what these guys consider to be the sacred underpinnings of their world (like something focusing on a wedding, for instance…) then I think I would end up expanding on important magical rituals. I’m thinking Fidelius, Unbreakable Vow, sacrificial magic. Not for nothing, but considering how much importance the moment where Severus and Narcissa make an Unbreakable Vow is given by both the narrative and the characters… it feels more like a wedding than the wedding does, and I’m not even a Severus/Narcissa shipper. 

*

So when it comes to weddings… I’ve honestly found it uniquely difficult to research the history there, because a lot of people are very motivated to suggest that every wedding tradition has some deep, meaningful ancient origin - or that it was just kind of always that way. Take the concept of a “best man” and the term “best man" for instance. That starts showing up in the 1780s (so it’s a social custom that doesn’t make my 1700 deadline.) Harry is of course filtering everything through his POV, but if I were writing a wedding thing, I’d want to say that Sirius is filling a different position. Like “godfather” seems a very legally important role in the wizarding society, so lean into that.  Maybe the “best man” equivalent at a wizard wedding is the person who you’ve picked to get custody of your kids if you die. 

We also see things like white wedding dresses and matching bridesmaid dresses being treated as an absolute given at Fleur’s wedding, when both of those things pretty much only exist because Queen Victoria did them in 1840. One interesting thing is that JKR doesn’t seem to do an exchange of rings, and she’s changed up that moment to make it more reminiscent of (I think) a handfasting ceremony? Which is fine, I can work with that. (Also rings are just treated very negatively across the board in the Harry Potter books. No idea why.)

But, in-universe, the Bill/Fleur wedding is really hard to use as a model for what a typical pureblood Wizarding wedding looks like. For all the reasons Anon mentions: It’s war time, it was put together very quickly, Harry is not paying the most attention, we don’t get to see the whole thing. I would also add in the fact that the Weasleys are political radicals, and at that point especially would be very politically motivated to have a wedding that looks more Muggle. 

Okay.  If I were writing a pureblood wedding… like Lucius and Narcissa’s wedding… what would I do.

First, I don’t think I want a typical wedding from the year 1700. I want 1700 does renaissance/medieval. (Kind of Sir Walter Scott.) I like this because it brings in/explains the Merlin thing - the purebloods all use ‘Merlin’ as an oath, so I guess Merlin (and Arthur, and that kind of romanticized middle ages) is important to them culturally. Also, medieval influences are going to make your wedding feel impressive and established… which is exactly what the Malfoys are after. Make sure everyone knows what an old family they are. All these pureblood families have crests, so put them everywhere, front and center. The decorations should be banners and flags with the crests of everyone attending, no florals.

I also love the idea of fossilized fashions, old-fashioned clothes that don’t come out except during a very ceremonial, traditional occasion. (Think of the ways that veils used to be a pretty normal part of a lady's wardrobe, but now you only see them during weddings.) I’d have it so that during a wizard wedding… all the ladies bring out their long, draping, evil enchantress sleeves and the guys are supposed to wear half-capes and swords. It’s also a good excuse to bring out all the really old family jewelry, of which I am sure the Malfoys have buckets.

I also want this to be a very magical wedding. Like, there are parts of it you straight-up could not participate in as muggle, because I think (sadly) that would be the vibe during the timeline of the main books. Weddings are for showing off, and part of that would be showing off your magical prowess. I’m thinking - light the dance floor on fire before the first dance, and then the couple has to perform a Flame Freezing charm. This tradition started as a screw-you to the Muggles after the witch trials… but now everybody just kinda does it because it looks really cool when the newlyweds dance on a bed of flame. Oh, and we’re definitely doing medieval-style palm-touching dances. No waltzing for the first dance at a traditional Malfoy wedding.

And they’ll go all out for the wedding feast, which will be long. The 1700s and middle ages were both really into food that did stuff - food that transformed, or food that looked like other food, or food that had birds flying out of it. So  just lean into that times a million with magic.

I am also such a sucker for slightly sentient magical houses, and Harry Potter absolutely has some of that, with the way Hogwarts (the building) has various ways to fight back against enemies and infiltrators. So I think a Malfoy wedding would definitely be taking place at Malfoy Manor, and that the house itself would be a part of the proceedings in some way. Like it’s got to accept the new family member (we know, from little moments like Umbridge being barred from Dumbledore‘s office… that sometimes magical buildings just reject you.) Integrating a new person into the new space would be a multi-step process. Maybe there’s a ceremony where they present the new person with the family spell books, and another one where they present them with keys to various parts of the house, etc.

You could tie this in with the idea of a bedding ceremony (which also hits my medieval + 1700s markers.) Maybe the house changes in some way when the couple first sleeps together, like it redecorates with the belongings of the person moving in, or grows them a rose garden or observatory so they feel more at home. I bet it’s fun for the guests to stick around and watch this change happen. (A trope like this might be especially fun in an arranged marriage or marriage-law type story.)

I’m thinking this would also be a very long wedding, and the wedding party is probably staying at the house for a week or so beforehand. That’s part of the flex, the family’s ability to adequately pay host to so many people for such a long period of time. Like that’s what a house like Malfoy Manor is for, there’s a reason those places were functionally small hotels. If at the end my old-school pureblood wedding feels like a modern muggle wedding... I don’t think I’ve done my job. A Muggleborn who’s been invited ought to have culture shock.

And yes. It goes without saying that Lucius and Narcissa would have eaten up all this pomp and circumstance, with a spoon.

[birchbow]

i really like everything you've done with the concept of troll gender in pof, but i was wondering if you've given thought to why/how they developed the concept of gender as a not really sexually dimorphic species? and who exactly assigns them genders as wrigglers? like are they getting the concept from the lusii? also i was wondering how they can tell each other's genders without asking directly. i know the clowns indicate that with their paint usually, but what about everyone else? i would love to hear any thoughts you have about this!

Okay so. This is only somewhat represented in the actual fic, mostly because I started writing it more than a decade ago when I was a little weenie with no gender imagination, but the grand scope of the xeno loadout I'm contemplating is thus:

in the same way that Lord of the Rings was theoretically a localized+translated legend from another language. PoF is a translation of a troll society that is in some ways localized by its translator (me lol).

THIS IS TO SAY: gender isn't gender. Pronouns are a self-declaration of "the role I take in my use to the Great Hive of The Empire". Trolls we translate as "male" and "female" are just roles of Use To The Hive that a human translator maps to "he" and "she".

If the mother grub, the drones and the trolls are all the same species, I find it delightful to imagine that insofar as trolls have a physical sex, it's BEING "trolls"; "troll"="the farmed ones/caretakers/(trollspecies) servant class" who provide and care for the mother grub.

Some of said class focus more into social violence not intended to kill+loud and posturing to drive away enemies+big emotions for Care About Hive. Because humans are, to quote troll xenonecroscholars, "obsessed with assigning mammal genital configurations to things", humans have dictated these trolls are "men". Some trolls focus more energy into stronger psionics+no patience for posturing/straight for the kill+hone and reinforce the inner strata of the hive. Humans refer to these individuals as "women".

I'll be shorthanding these roles as "masc" and "femme" because I use way too many words already, but just know that's an oversimplification haha.

FIG 1: Karkat by this standard? Very masc, but his insistence that he wants to be the leader/in charge is idiosyncratically femme of him. *cishet bioessentialism voice* Football player repeatedly goes out for ballet.

FIG 2: let's be clear Karkat telling Tavros to "stop playing games for girls" after he got jumped off a cliff was Karkat/Homestuck being classic 2010s shitty. But it doubles in this as "you decided to play with the Scourge Sisters (Deadly High Femme), you moron, you're lucky you're not dead".

how people figure out which one they initially go by... tbh it seems like schooling is pretty much via computers. I feel like you could easily just get like. A module on reproduction, and then a module that's essentially a fucking. quizilla quiz. Assigned pronouns at government-required school module.

Recent chapters have started making characters 'they/them' until the POV character gets a hint what their preference is--in this theoretical setup there would be quite a lot of sussing it out. "Gender presentation" would be a loose constellation of traits with a lot less certainty! The webcomic was not made with this in mind but I do find it fun to willfully reframe the pretty generically human-gendered characters we get.

FOR EXAMPLE!! Long/big hair as a peacocking flair/brag, often by old or powerful classes, or people who are powerful enough psionics they don't have to give a shit about a very grabbable liability in a fight. Trolls whose vocational pronouns translate as "female" often specialize in straightforward impersonal murder and social engineering more than brawling, so longer hair wouldn't be a liability and therefore is correlated, but only loosely.

Feferi has long hair, but so does the Grand Highblood. Equius (reads quite masc to humans) has long hair (nobility fle%), but Kanaya (the most overtly human femme) does not (practical middle-class brawler)! I don't think that's on purpose but I AM taking advantage of it lol.

'They/them' is the equivalent of the "joker" title I made up already for Clown Church--somebody with multiple skillsets, mixed roles, or fields of influence. My gender is undeclared college major. My gender is Jack Of All Trades.

Verato's transness isn't really about his switch from one gender to another--it's more because he plays a "femme" role in society but uses the "masc" pronoun for himself. His self-consciousness about it is more similar to a nonbinary or bisexual human who's used to being told to "pick one" and being told which one they "seem like" or "should be".

Meanwhile the Behemoth's 'it/its' in English stands out as a pronoun usually used for objects, but in Alternian it would be the pronoun trolls use to refer to DRONES. "(Trollspecies) made for thoughtless violence/enforcer/culls the weak". Chilling!!

I would have to go through and edit huge chunks of the fic to drag all half a million words into line with fun xeno shit alongside the clown church worldbuilding I already got in there, but damn if the concept isn't tempting some days.

[candlebreak]

Hello! I really love your RRH fic, especially the attention to canon details you put in your work and in the end notes. You don't have to answer this if you don't want to, of course, but I was searching the books for Pit Madness references and I found nothing like the way the fandom usually portraits Jason in the first years after coming back. Is Pit Madness canon or we just made up that one to explain how Jason’s mental state would change drastically depending on who was writing him?

1) Thank you!!!  ೕ(˃̵ᴗ˂̵ ๑)  I try ( ∩ˇωˇ∩)♡

2) It has been *checks watch* four years since you sent this in. But I rise from the ashes to reply!

3) Buckle up, this is gonna be LONG. Like, long enough I'm gonna have to break it up into sections and reblog.

4) I’m also gonna post this on AO3 as an extra: here.

@pokemonisbeast1999 I’m tagging you because at some point in the last 4 years you also asked for this…somewhere. Idk where or when. Idk if you still want to know. But your handle's in my notes for this, so you get tagged

The tl;dr on Pit Madness is that, yes, it does exist in the comics (though it doesn’t have a formal name—the term “Lazarus Fever” is used a few times in the New52/current canon, but not often enough IMO to make it an official diagnosis). However, no, it doesn’t work like fanon Pit Madness.

“Classic” Pit Madness in canon is *very* temporary (only lasts a few minutes IMMEDIATELY after coming out of the Pit). That…doesn’t really line up at all with the fanon version of Jason’s Pit Madness.

HOWEVER. However. Jason is a Special Boy and gets Special Pit Madness, even in canon (sometimes, maybe). And that Very Special Canon Pit Madness is…entirely and purposefully ambiguous as to whether or not it even exists. Maybe it's Pit Madness. Maybe something went wrong with his resurrection. Maybe it's trauma. Maybe it's just Jason!

Jason: Does it make it easier for you to think that my little dip in his fountain of youth turned me rabid? Or is this just the real me? —Under the Red Hood (Movie)

I personally tend to interpret the comics as ‘Jason does NOT have any long-term magically-induced rage ‘roids, but he DOES have a lot of legitimate trauma and anger, INCLUDING trauma that he got from the Pit, which (along with other factors) explains why he is Like That.’

However, since you’re asking *me* about this, and I am moderately unhinged, I doubt you’re here for the tl;dr. SO, read on for an 10k-word illustrated deep dive into every instance in the main comics canon (and some bonus extras!) I could find that dealt with induced madness and that Good Green Goo™.

I present to you:

Candle’s Comprehensive Canon Compendium© on Lazarus Pit Madness:

Before we begin, a disclaimer: Canon ain’t shit. The writers of “canon” don’t know canon. Canon is whatever that means to you. And that technically *is* current canon!! All versions of all characters and storylines are simultaneously canon!! Anarchy in the omniverse!! Nothing is real.

I will note which continuity each example is from (e.g., Pre-Crisis, New Earth, New 52/Rebirth). If that means something to you, great! If that is confusing, you can just ignore it.

I will also note when an example is NOT comics canon—maybe it’s from a video game, or a movie, or a TV show, or a comic that’s not part of the main comics universe. In those cases, the example is still canon to that medium, but it’s not main comics canon.

And now, an obsessively deep dive into canon:

I’m gonna ignore all the soul-swapping, powering spells, demons & possession stuff that Lazarus Pits can sometimes do, and just focus on Pit Madness here. I’m also gonna *mostly* limit myself to the comics—though I will note some interesting interpretations of the Pit from other media that may have fed into fanon interpretations at the end. This guide will hopefully answer two separate but interrelated questions:

1. Does a Lazarus Pit make you “crazy”?

2. What does that “insanity” actually mean?

Introduction: What is Insanity?

The basic concept of the Pits (which is only sometimes followed, because comics) is that if you go in dead or dying, it will bring you back to life and health. If you go in healthy, it will kill you. If you go in “sane,” it will make you “crazy” (temporarily). If you go in “crazy,” it will make you “sane.”

IMO, the closest thing we get in the comics to fanon Pit Madness is this one singular panel from Batman #618 (New Earth):

“As with most things, using the Lazarus Pit comes at a price. Upon emergence from the pit, madness fuels the survivor. You enter dead. You come out insane.”

This panel is talking about why a hypothetical Jason (who turns out not to be Jason at all, just Clayface—who was never even near a Lazarus Pit) ((except later it’s retconned that it was Jason after all and he switched with Clayface at some point after this panel--woo comics!!)) might attack Bruce and Tim.

What exactly this “madness” or “insanity” even means is entirely ambiguous—it really just does seem to mean “wants to attack Batman.” Which…isn’t really insane or irrational in and of itself? Especially for (hypothetical) Jason, who has legitimate grievances with Batman and, given his background, it is entirely understandable why he might turn to violence to try and solve them? This panel doesn’t really tell us anything, but it provides a decent enough jumping off point—and is so completely vague—that its premise can be used as the basis for basically any fanon interpretation of Pit Madness that you want.

However, it’s also pretty much the only place in canon where Pit Madness works like that (definitively fueling long-term, premeditated violence). And it’s entirely based on a hypothetical that doesn’t exist. Or, at best, was only later revealed to be partially real. On top of that, the idea that “insane” = “bloodthirty and violent” is…not great. Depictions of mental illness in mainstream comics (and media in general) are already super demonizing of people with mental illness, and a magical evil pool of water that turns you evil and dangerous by making you “crazy” is...yeah.

For a short and easily-accessible breakdown of this issue and why it’s harmful, check out Rowan Ellis’s Mental Health Horror Story on YouTube.

Another problem with this generic “it makes you crazy ooh scary” characterization of the Pit is that “crazy” or “insane” doesn’t actually mean anything. Does it make you irrational? Overwhelmed by bloodlust? Does it create breaks with reality? Does it stop you from feeling empathy? Make you paranoid? Delusional? Incapable of rational thought? Unable to understand and/or produce speech? Uncaring of consequences or social mores? Is it a one-time thing? Long-term? Does it come in waves? Can it be triggered? Can it be “sated”?

The answer to all of these questions, in canon, is “yes.” But Candle, you say, a lot of those things are contradictory and can’t all be true. And to that I reply: It wouldn’t be comics if canon stayed consistent pshhhh.

So how *is* Pit Madness inconsistently depicted in canon?

I would break comics-canon portrayals of Pit Madness into 6 main categories:

1) “Classic” Pit Madness: this is the VAST majority of Pit Madness cases in the comics

It is VERY short term [a few seconds/minutes of bloodlust, then you are back to normal]

Unlike in a lot of fanon, this type of Pit Madness is very short in duration and does not reoccur/“flare up” after the initial dunking; it can’t be “triggered” after it settles down; and it’s not aimed at anybody in particular

2) FIIIIRE: this is where you come out and are like, “I have fire powers and an unshakeable urge to share the ecstasy and agony of death with everybody now” !

Not related to fanon Pit Madness at all, but it’s so wild it needed to have its own category

3) He’s Sane!: This is when someone who was “insane” (i.e., Joker) goes into a Pit, and they come out…hyper-sane?

It’s weird and I don’t like it

4) No effect: oooh, we were all very scared Pit Madness was gonna happen, but then it didn’t! Yay!

This is also VERY common

This is usually used for comedic effect or just when it would derail the plot to have a rage zombie attack everybody right then

5) Repeated Corruption: This is a slow-acting corruption of the mind (or soul?) that comes from repeated use of the Pits over many years/centuries

This is basically just for Ra’s and the Devil Nezha.

What exactly the corruption/madness entails is very ambiguous—however, all these characters are shown to be extremely shrewd, calculating and not subject to any obvious breaks with reality, so I’d argue it’s more of a “devaluing of human life,” a general lust for killing, and maybe also delusions of grandeur?

6) Long-Term Ambiguity (a.k.a. “The Jason Special”): As the name indicates, this is a long-term/indefinite affair, and it’s very ambiguous whether any violence/irrationality is driven by the Pit or not.

I call it the Jason Special because this is what you’ll see used for Jason most often in the comics (IF they mention the Pit at all, which is not super common), but Ra’s and Nyssa can also sometimes fit into this category

Unlike other versions of Pit Madness, this one is NOT characterized by mindless violence or an insatiable urge to kill right now

Indeed, Jason under this form of Pit Madness (if it is indeed Pit Madness at all) is intensely methodical and patient in his violence

The “madness,” if it exists, comes in more as an obsession with revenge to the point where he doesn’t care about anything else, not being affected or caring when he kills someone, perhaps defaulting to killing over other solutions, and maybe some other, subtler symptoms too

You may notice that these things are all a bit different from each other. 

And yet. Here we are.

I have gone through every instance of Pit usage I know of from the main comics continuities (and some from outside that) and sorted them accordingly. I admit I am less familiar with New-52/Rebirth/current canon, so sorry if I missed any there. This is not an exhaustive list (like I said, I’m leaving out all the mystical/possession/body swapping/demon stuff unless that was also coupled with Pit Madness), but it does come closer than anything else I could find on the internet.

(I also did definitely miss/omit some instances of Ra’s, because honestly it’s kinda all the same with that guy except for whatever new magical/alchemical/demon thing he’s doing with the Pit this time.)

So, here we go. Every instance of Pit Madness in the comics I could find:

[love-you-likeallfire]

Happy Birthday Haymitch.

A Sunshine and Roses universe fic.

Description: one year after her life changed forever, Ember learns very quickly why you do not wish Haymitch Abernathy a happy birthday on Reaping Day. But maybe Haymitch might change his mind in a year…or ten.

A/N: happy 4th July to all you Americans, Hope you’ll accept this Haymitch fic as an adequate apology from a native of Great Britain (that goes for any of the other countries my country colonised centuries before my birth and have nothing to do with the colonisation beyond being British) 😂

Anyway I couldn’t decide between two concepts for this so I combined the two of them together, I’m also saying that this is probably teen rated fic (I mean most of us I hope are at least over the age of 16), because it’s a bit borderline spicy but not actually spice because I physically can’t write smut so it’s implied. So I guess implied sexual content warning is in play. But anyway hope you enjoy the fic!

I balance the cake tin in one hand, my prosthetic tucked awkwardly at my side as I knock on Haymitch’s door with my elbow. The air is already warm, thick with the smell of coal dust and the too sweet scent of sun on damp pine. It’s early — early enough the world’s still quiet. The kind of quiet that feels like something bad is about to happen.

I shouldn’t be nervous, but I am. Not about the cake. That’s just something to do, a routine. Goat’s milk, butter, sugar, the good stuff from the Capitol allowance I never spend, all swirled together like I remember from before the Games, before everything.

It’s his birthday.

No one really talks about it, not even him, but I heard it from Ripper months ago in passing as I sold her cheese. "The miserable bastard came screaming into the world same day he practically got ripped outta it." She laughed when she said it. But there was a weight to it, too. I didn’t ask more.

So I baked. It felt… almost normal.

I knock again. Nothing.

The door creaks when I push it open. It’s dangerous that it’s not locked but what would be the point? Haymitch lives alone. No one ever comes here unless they have to.

I step inside. It smells like whiskey and rotten cabbage and unwashed clothes and damp and and dust. The furniture’s worn in and out at the same time, a mess that somehow suits him.

He’s asleep on the couch. Sprawled sideways, one hand curled beneath the edge of a threadbare pillow. His hair’s all over the place, and there’s a bottle on the floor, half-fallen from the table. The sun slants through the window across his face.

I should’ve left the cake in the kitchen.

But something about him like this — quiet, not yelling, not muttering — makes me hesitate. Maybe it’s okay. Maybe I’m over thinking the silence around his birthday, maybe it’s just the fact it’s a doubly horrible anniversary for my family what with Uncle Woodbine and my Reaping and everything. Maybe he just hates the 4th July as much as everyone else in the district. Maybe it’ll be nice to see a friendly face when he wakes up.

I approach the sofa and softly say the words everyone hears every year on their own special day:

“Happy birthday, Haymitch,”

….That’s when everything goes wrong.

In one breath, he’s up.

Not awake — not really. Just up like something inside him got yanked. I see the flash of something silver, I see the way his eyes don’t register me. They’re wild. Half-dreaming. Somewhere far away.

I open my mouth to speak, to say it’s me, it’s just Ember—

The glint I saw is a knife. A blunt kitchen knife.

The blade arcs before I can move, before he can stop. A white-hot line slices across my left side, just above the waist. I suck in a breath, stumble back, the cake crashing to the floor.

“Haymitch!” I cry out, clutching my side. “Haymitch—it’s me!”

The shout stops him cold.

He freezes, knife still half-raised, mouth slack. His eyes focus — slowly, painfully — like he’s dragging himself back into the room. Back to the land of awake.

“Ember?” he says, hoarse.

I’m on one knee, palm pressed against the fabric of my shirt, which is already blooming red.

He drops the knife.

“Shit.” His voice is different now. Horrified. Real. “Shit.”

He’s kneeling in front of me a second later. I can’t tell who’s shaking more.

“Let me see,” he says, urgently, hands hovering over mine. “Ember, let me—damn it—hold still.”

“I didn’t know,” I whisper. “You sleep with a knife.”

“Yeah, and now you do.” He pulls my hand away. Hisses. “Alright, Doesn’t look deep. You’re lucky I’m a drunk, or I’d have gone clean through.”

I try to laugh. It sounds like a cough.

“I was just… I didn’t know. I thought it’d be nice.”

His jaw tightens. He doesn’t answer.

He moves fast after that. Not smooth — not practiced, like Mrs Everdeen — but efficient. He disappears to the kitchen and comes back with a dented first-aid tin that smells like old wood and vinegar and a bottle of something clear. He’s got a half-used roll of gauze, a flask with a makeshift cork, and what I immediately recognize as rubbing alcohol.

“Where’d you get that?” I ask, a little breathless.

“You don’t want to know” He kneels again. “Now, you’re gonna hate me in about ten seconds.”

I glance down, he’s already lifting the edge of my shirt, and I flinch instinctively.

“You’ll need to hold this up, unless you want me to rip it.” He commands, not looking at me. My hands shake, but I do it immediately. My skin is slick, raw around the wound, which is long and shallow but angry. I’ve definitely had worse, not from him, never from him, from the obvious. It’s going to scar though. Just another I’ll add to the list on my body.

“This’ll hurt,” he says, voice flat. “Scream if you need to. No one’ll care.”

“My ma will” I point out “Effie definitely—”

He pours the alcohol. I bite down a scream with my black metal arm in my mouth. He doesn’t flinch. It’s like fire and ice all at once, something I’ve actually experienced before, but still my leg kicks involuntarily, and eyes water at the sensation.

“Sorry,” he mutters, even though I know he’s not sorry for the pain — just for the reason it’s happening. “You’ll live.”

Then his fingers are already unrolling a length of gauze.

He works in silence. Gentle, surprisingly. Tight enough to hold, not tight enough to hurt.

When he’s done, he leans back on his heels. He’s still not meeting my eyes and I’m the one who breaks the silence between us. “You really don’t like your birthday, huh?”

His laugh is dry. Bitter, even. “Yeah. Maybe don’t do that again. Ever.”

“Okay,” I say softly. “I won’t.”

He leans back against the wall, rubbing a hand down his face. “You come here to say that every year and you’ll be leaking from somewhere new each time.”

There’s blood on the floor. On his hands. But he’s calmer now. Or something close to it. Now he knows I’m not hurt badly.

“It’s Reaping Day,” I say after a minute.

“Yeah,” he mutters, eyes closed. “Second gift of the day.”

“My first one as a mentor,” I add.

He opens one eye and looks at me sideways.

“I thought about letting you go at this alone,” he admits suddenly. “Like I’ve done for years.”

That surprises me a little, I expected him to say it’s my turn and wash his hands of the whole thing.

“Why didn’t you?”

He doesn’t answer right away. When he does, it’s low. Meant more for himself than me.

“Didn’t sit right.”

That’s all.

But I hear the rest of it anyway. The unsaid. What happened in the Capitol last year, the past year. The way they’ve paraded me like a doll. Taken parts of me and never really gave anything back.

“Thanks for patching me up,” I say.

He shrugs. “You did me a favour, I’m awake.”

He finally looks at me. Really looks. “don’t sneak up on me again like that, Ember.”

“I wasn’t sneaking.”

“Then don’t wake me up at all.”

“I can’t not do that, we have a deal, I wake you up on Reaping day and you hold my hand through all the Victor crap.”

“I’m being serious.”

“So am I”

“Ember”

“Right. Okay got it.”

He pushes himself to his feet with a grunt. “Now go home. Clean up. We leave in what? two hours.”

I start to move. Stop. “Haymitch?”

He pauses, back turned to me.

“Is it always this hard? The Fourth of July?” I ask.

He doesn’t say anything for a long time. Then:

“You have no idea kid” he says as he heads up the stairs to get ready.

I stare at the ruined cake on the floor. Frosting smeared across old wood like a smear of snow. A cherry’s rolled near the bottle.

I wipe at my eyes with my sleeve.

Yeah, I think I do.

10 years later

When I wake up, I can’t tell where I end and Haymitch begins.

It’s still early. Summer light spills through the half-cracked curtains, gold and warm and gentle, soft as a memory. There’s birdsong, mockingjays probably, singing a melody long lost to the Capitol cruelty, one they have finally been able to reclaim.

I shift slightly and feel his arm tighten around my waist.

Haymitch breathes out slow, steady against the back of my neck, and I realise he’s already awake. His legs are tangled in mine, as if even in sleep he’s afraid I’ll drift off without him. The sheets are twisted around us, and his palm is warm and flat against the bare skin of my stomach.

It’s the perfect way to wake.

I turn, carefully, until I face him.

He’s watching me like I’m the only thing that matters. Like he still can’t quite believe I’m here, that we’re here. His eyes are soft — the kind of soft he doesn’t let anyone else see. The kind I never saw until the war ended.

Until we let each other love each the other in the quiet.

His hair’s all over the place, a little silvery now in places it used to be straw-colored but not noticeably unless you’re looking. There are lines around his mouth and at the corners of his eyes, deeper than they were when I was sixteen. And still, he’s beautiful, the way a home is beautiful after it’s rebuilt. Solid. Worn. Real.

“Hi,” I whisper.

He hums, low in his throat. “Mornin’, sunshine.”

The nickname still makes my chest ache, but in a good way, not in the way that’s like a wound. In a way that makes me want to just love him more even though I know it’s impossible to love him more.

“You been awake long?”

“Long enough.”

I reach up and brush a bit of sleep from the corner of his eye, trail my fingers down the side of his face. He catches my hand with his, presses a kiss into my palm.

I don’t say it. Not yet. Not those words.

There’s no panic behind his eyes this morning, no knife under the pillow, no tension in the set of his jaw. He’s just…Haymitch.

“You alright?” I ask.

“’M alright,” he shifts closer, tucking me fully against his chest. “Reckon you’ve got somethin’ to do with that.”

We stay like that for a while, not talking. Breathing. Listening to the quiet of the house — a house that no longer smells like whiskey and sweat and sour bread, no longer echoes with the sound of a man trying to drink away ghosts. It smells like fresh soap, coffee grounds and goat milk, with only the faint scent of whatever liquor Haymitch is into.

It smells like us.

I trace the edge of a scar on his shoulder with my fingers. I don’t know how he got that one. He’s told me things, but not everything. Not yet.

“I was thinking’,” he says, voice low and rough with sleep, “we don’t have go anywhere today.”

“No,” I agree. “We don’t.”

“No Games. No Capitol,” he says, like he still doesn’t quite believe it. “Haven’t got to pack, haven’t got to send anyone to die, haven’t got to drink myself stupid.”

“Thanks to Katniss,” I say, “and thanks to you.”

His hand slides up, rests over my ribs. “You did more than me”

I close my eyes for a second. Try not to let the weight of memory settle too heavy. We all helped. All of us who made it out the other side. But some days it still feels like more of me got left behind in the wreckage than made it into this new world.

I think about Woodbine. Can’t help it that he comes into my mind today. The uncle, who I never met but who my father mourned until the day he left us, the uncle who lives in the hollow space between my ribs on days like this. About the way Haymitch’s hand had trembled when he told me — really told me — what happened that year. How he hadn’t been reaped in Woodbine’s place well, not in the way I’d been told at least. How the Capitol had reset the bowl like nothing had happened. How he’d been picked from the crowd and stood there, sixteen and not giving anyone the satisfaction of seeing him cry, as he was called up.

I’d never really seen Haymitch cry until then. A few times, but not when I won the games. Not when I almost didn’t. Not even when I told him I loved him for the first time. Only when he mentioned people he lost or the prospect of losing what he’s built now. Never when he describes things, his voice trembles but never breaks. Maybe because he never goes into detail.

But that night, he had and I’d held him, just like he held me after my own nightmares, and we didn’t say anything else.

My chest aches, thinking of it now. It’s weird how that one incident on one specific day could alter so many people’s lives. Even those who weren’t even born yet. It’s a strange feeling to consider that if my uncle hadn’t died when he did, I ultimately wouldn’t be here now, and likely neither would Haymitch.

Our lives would be completely different. He’d be celebrating his birthday with his childhood sweetheart and worrying about his kids being sent into the arena and I wouldn’t be here. I know that much to be true. But I don’t want to dwell on weird feelings, on what ifs, so I move gently, press my head to his shoulder and let myself breathe him in.

“Peeta wants to do something later — nothing big.“

Haymitch grunts in response.

“Before you ask it’s because he loves you.”

“Can’t think why.”

“You’re his family.” I simply say, “Katniss’ too.”

“You know, you’ve got a real annoying habit of being right lately.”

I smile slightly and I finally decide to risk saying the thing I’d been avoiding.

“Happy birthday, Haymitch.”

I lean back slightly and watch his reaction. His eyes don’t close, his breath doesn’t hitch. That’s good at least. A big improvement from getting stabby at me.

“Didn’t think I’d see forty-three,” he replies

“You’ve certainly earned it.”

He goes quiet. Just stares at me and I know where he’s gone. To Sid. To His ma. To Maysilee. Louella, Wyatt and Lou-Lou.

To Lenore Dove.

Names he’s whispered and trusted me with more than once. Pieces of himself he never gave anyone before. I don’t know everything. Not yet. But I know their names now at least, and that’s enough. It’s a start. He’ll tell me one day when he’s ready all their stories and I’ll be there then, like I’m here now.

“You okay?” I ask, just under my breath.

“Gettin’ there.” He nods once, slowly. Not a lie, but not a complete truth. “Just… feels wrong some days. Being the one who made it.”

“But you did,” I whisper. “And you’re still here.”

“Yeah,” he says, and then he turns, wraps himself around me tighter like he’s anchoring himself. “Thanks to you.”

I shake my head against him. “You’re the reason we’re both here. Don’t sell yourself short.”

“Wouldn’t dare,” he says.

I let my fingers drift across his ribs. Feel the rise and fall of his breath. He’s solid beneath me, warm and real and present. I think of the man I met when I was fifteen, and the one I wake up beside now. Same man. Just… different now. Loved, as he should’ve always been.

“I ever tell you how dangerous you look in the morning?” he murmurs suddenly, voice low and gravelly.

I glance up at him.

“Oh, in what way do I look dangerous, Haymitch?”

“In the ‘I want you in bed for another hour’ kind of dangerous”

He’s smirking now — barely — but it’s there. Familiar and lazy and something dangerous flickering behind his eyes.

“Well, who am I to deny you anything today. Is there anything else you would like?”

“I want to stay like this,” he says “right here. With you.”

“You’ve got me.”

“Good. And I was thinkin’ maybe I should start my birthday off right,” he drawls.

I raise an eyebrow. “Is that right?”

“Mm-hmm.”

“And how would you like to do that, Mr Abernathy?”

“Well, Mrs Abernathy,”

He shifts, flipping our positions, rolling me onto my back with a low groan that comes with middle age and settles over me, one hand bracing beside my head, the other slides down slowly to rest over my hip, drawing lazy circles over my skin. careful, deliberate, his breath ghosts against my throat.

“I might have a few ideas”

I laugh, his mouth meets mine — not rushed, not desperate, just full and slow, the kind of kiss that says I love you without needing words. I melt into it, threading my fingers into his hair, pulling him closer.

It’s familiar by now.

He deepens the kiss, his breath hitching as he presses closer, his fingers slipping beneath the blanket draped over us. I gasp softly against his lips.

His hand slides over my waist, up my ribs, slow and reverent, like he’s touching something he still can’t quite believe he’s allowed to have even after all these years. He doesn’t hesitate like he used to. His thumb brushes the place just under my breast, where my bra starts and he pauses — checking, always checking, even now.

I nod, barely, just once.

And that’s all he needs.

He kisses me again, a sound in the back of his throat like he’s breathing out relief. His hand slides higher, warm against my skin, and everything about the moment stretches — quiet, slow, like time’s finally decided to give us space instead of taking things away.

The weight of him is comforting. His body fits against mine like it’s always been meant to. Tangled legs, shared breath, a life remade in the aftermath.

His fingers find the edge of my underwear, tentative, but only in that familiar way that means I know you. I know what you’ve survived. I’ll never take more than you give.

And I do.

Give.

All of it.

Outside, the wind stirs the trees. A bird cries again, but further away this time.

His lips move along my jaw, down to the place just below my ear, slow like he’s memorising me again from scratch.

“I love you,” I whisper.

His hand stills for a second. Then:

“You better.”

I laugh again — breathless, honest — and his smile ghosts across my skin.

He shifts again, his hand lacing with mine above my head, his mouth finding mine one more time.

And just before the world falls away, he whispers against my lips:

“Best damn birthday in a long time.”

[demigod-shenanigans]

Leo’s night off

Summary: Leo had been working on the Argo II’s engine non-stop for four days—and he’d been making great progress, thank you very much—but for some strange reason, his friends seemed convinced he needed things like “breaks” and “fresh air” and “fun”.

He’d reluctantly resigned himself to his fate of being dragged out of Bunker Nine for movie night once a week. He loved his friends. He liked spending time with them. When he wasn’t on tight schedules for impossible building projects that had the fate of the world riding on them, he was very much in favor of having fun.

Unfortunately, it was Piper’s turn to pick the movie, and her idea of fun apparently involved paranormal horror.

…at least he and Jason were suffering together, he supposed.

Word Count: 7.4k

Rating: Teen and Up (could probably be Gen tbh, rated that way for a bit of cursing and very vague descriptions of a few horror movie scenes)

My @pjo-equinox-solstice-exchange for @chaosdoesnotdefineme

I really hope you’ll enjoy this fic! Your prompt was pretty vague, so I went with some lost trio focused shenanigans.

I did check your blog and saw you’d reblogged a bunch of Valgrace art, so I’m hoping it was okay to include the ship, but I kept it relatively minor to be safe, with trio friendship being the main focus of the fic. Most of it can be read as them just being physically affectionate with each other. Also, you don’t currently allow gifts to your Ao3 account, so if you do want me to use the gift function over there, you’ll have to toggle that on first!

Anyway, that’s enough preamble from me, I think! Happy reading!

———

To say Leo had lost track of time would have, perhaps, been the understatement of the century. He’d been working on the Argo II’s engine for so long that he was no longer sure what time of day—or, quite frankly, what day of the week it was. His siblings came and went however they saw fit between their other obligations, helping as much as they could, but Leo wouldn’t have let any of them help with this part anyway. 

It wasn’t that he didn’t trust them to handle complicated machinery—they were all children of Hephaestus, after all—but it was like that saying about too many cooks spoiling the broth. Except in this case, the cooks were inventors who each had their own ideas about the best way to build powerful ship engines, and the broth was an extremely delicate balance of highly explosive fluids that might wipe half of camp off the map if anyone so much as looked at it wrong.

Teamwork was great for lots of tasks, especially when it came to projects as big as the Argo, but this just wasn’t one of them.

Therefore, Leo had been working in the engine room mostly alone for a while, using a borrowed plate from the camp kitchens to summon food whenever his stomach started to complain and taking sips of water from a borrowed cup when he started to feel dizzy. The magic dishes were really handy. Maybe he should ask if he could add some to the Argo’s inventory for the journey. That seemed much easier than figuring out how to stock up on supplies when there was a good chance of supply runs ending in monsters chasing them out of random foreign supermarkets. 

Unlike eating and drinking, sleep was somewhat of a myth at this stage of building the Argo. Thankfully, Leo didn’t actually need tons of breaks while he was working. One neat thing about being a child of Hephaestus was that whenever Leo went into Project Hyperfocus Mode, he actually didn’t need much to sustain himself in general. He could go days without sleeping if it was necessary—and considering their looming deadline with the Argo? Man, was it necessary.

That Piper and Jason weren’t huge fans of this particular power of his was probably the camp’s worst-kept secret. Jason regularly dropped by to have lunch with him because apparently he was worried whether Leo remembered the concept of “lunch” existed, which was both extremely rude and also completely fair. Piper, for her part, had dragged Leo out of the Bunker more times than he could count, insisting he needed things like “fresh air” and “to see the sun more than once a week”.

What did she think he was, a wilting houseplant?

The one regular appointment they’d successfully talked Leo into to ensure he got out of Bunker Nine and did something fun regardless of how busy his week was was movie night on Saturdays. There were a few reasons for this. 

1) Jason’s knowledge of and taste in movies was absolutely abysmal, and as his best friend, it was basically Leo’s sacred duty to fix this. 2) They rotated who picked the movie, so he finally had an excuse to make Piper watch all of the Transformers movies with him. And, perhaps most importantly, 3) they’d chosen to have Movie Night at the Zeus cabin, so they got to piss off Jason’s absentee sort-of dad as an added bonus.

Yeah, yeah, and Leo supposed that maybe it was also just nice that he got to spend some quality time with his friends and could give his whirring brain a bit of a pre-scheduled break. 

Not that he’d ever tell that to Jason and Piper, though. They’d abuse the hell out of that knowledge to schedule even more weekly activities, and then Leo would never finish the ship in time for their trip.

“The world ended because I had too many board game nights and video game sessions with my friends” would probably not fly with the Judges of the Underworld.

All this was to say that, with Movie Night being scheduled and all, Leo probably shouldn’t have been surprised that one of his friends may show up to drag him out of the engine room for the event. But, well… there was the whole matter of him losing track of time (if he’d ever had track of time to begin with, which could be put into question more than a little).

So, when Piper waltzed into the engine room, loudly proclaiming, “yo, Repair Boy, put your tools away, it’s your night off!”, Leo startled so badly that he nearly did make the engine explode by accident.

Leo cursed, moving frantically to put out the small fire he’d started.

“Gods, Pipes, what did I tell you about sneaking up on me like that when I’m working?”

“Not to do it because it’s dangerous?” Piper asked innocently. “Hey, if anything, you should take this as a compliment! It means I completely trust you not to blow us both up, even by accident!” She winked at him. “Now come on, we’re gonna miss dinner, and if we do, Jason’s gonna pick the snacks all by himself. You know how that will end.”

Leo shuddered at the memory of the dried fruit chips, beef jerky and unseasoned popcorn that Jason had picked out the one and only time he’d been solely responsible for the snacks. After that traumatizing incident, they (Leo and Piper) had unanimously decided the three of them would pick all of their snacks together going forward. But if the camp store was closed by the time they got there… well, avoiding a repeat of that particular snack incident was as great a motivator as any for Leo to try and finish up as soon as possible.

“Yeah, no thanks.” Leo paused. “Hang on. Isn’t it, like, Thursday? Movie night is on Saturdays.”

Piper looked at him, appalled. “It is Saturday. I’m afraid to even ask, but how long have you been in here?”

Leo winced. “Wednesday? I think?”

“You think?”

“Listen, I’m shit enough at keeping track of what day it is when I have an actual schedule like we did at Wilderness. Here? Free rein, Beauty Queen. You’re lucky I even know what month it is.”

He fastened the last few components on the part of the engine he’d been working on, then started collecting his tools and stowing them away in his tool belt, since him leaving the Bunker was a thing that was definitely going to happen now.

A shadow of guilt crossed Piper’s face. “I should have checked on you sooner, but I knew Jason dropped by regularly, and with the drama we’ve had at the Aphrodite cabin this week, I kind of didn’t realize just how long it’s been since you showed up for a meal.” She bit her lip. “Jason didcome see you, right?”

“Oh, yeah, he totally did. Not sure how long ago it was, but we’ve eaten together twice since I started working on the engine earlier this week.” Leo strategically neglected to mention that he’d sort of promised Jason to go take a nap in an actual bed after their second lunch and then just… hadn’t. Piper didn’t need to know that. 

“Good. I’m glad. I’m still sorry I didn’t look out for you properly this week, though.”

“Eh. It’s fine. You’ve annoyed me out of the Bunker plenty of times since I started working on the ship. You’ll be forgiven for slacking off for one week.” Leo grinned at her. He wiped his hands off on a piece of cloth he’d pulled out of his tool belt, rechecked that all the engine compartments were stable and not at an imminent risk of exploding one last time, then gave her his full attention. “Now, I wanna hear about your cabin drama. I miss all the fun stuff while I’m holed up in here.”

“You wouldn’t miss nearly as much if you spent a bit more time outside,” Piper pointed out, but then she told him, anyway. “My siblings have been arguing a bunch. It’s been a mess.”

“Yeah? How big of a mess are we talking?”

“It honestly seemed like a stupid issue to me, which didn’t help my ability to manage it. Calix and Mitchell showed up to breakfast in the same outfit a few days ago, and they both got upset about it. Somehow, this devolved into an all-out sibling war. There were factions and everything.” Piper rubbed the back of her neck sheepishly. “Shockingly, me snapping and yelling ‘who cares?’did not help. It just made everyone mad at me on top of being mad at each other. I’m starting to think that I may not be cut out for this whole head counselor business.”

Leo snorted. “Hey, don’t look at me! I’m pretty sure I was only elected head counselor of the Hephaestus cabin because my siblings knew I’d be way too busy to check whether anyone was doing their chores—not that I would have cared much about it either way. I doubt you’re anywhere near as bad at this as me.” He elbowed Piper. “So, did you get it sorted out, or do I need to prepare myself to dodge love curses and lethal hair brush throws at dinner?”

“I couldn’t get it sorted out. I had to ask Drew for help.”

“Oh gods.”

“She’s not…” Piper shook her head. “I mean, she did look very smug about the whole thing, but Drew knows her stuff when it comes to these things. Had the whole matter sorted in two minutes by giving Mitchell a shirt to go with the pants that ‘compliments the color of his eyes’ and pairing Calix’ shirt with a different pair of pants and a belt.” Her voice held something like begrudging respect for her sister, which Leo thought was weird considering the way their sisterhood had started out. Then again, his siblings were basically his construction crew. He wasn’t exactly an expert on normal family dynamics. “I may not have liked the way Drew ran the cabin,” Piper continued, “but she was right that I don’t get some of the things my siblings care about. I’m not planning to suddenly, like, get obsessed with expensive designer clothes or anything—there’s a reason I’ve never liked that kind of stuff—but I’ll admit that I could stand to be a bit more respectful of my siblings’ interests. I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I was genuinely glad Drew was around to help out with this.”

“Okay, who are you and what have you done to my friend?” Leo teased, pinching one of Piper’s cheeks with his fingers and gently pulling it sideways like it was a mask that he was expecting to come off.

“Leo! Ew!” Piper yelped, swatting his arm and then wiping at the grease stain he’d left on her cheek. “Okay, seriously, we need to get going. You desperately need a shower before dinner, and we were already going to be late.”

“Are you saying that I stink?”

“You’ve been hanging around in Bunker Nine for, what, more than three days now? Do you really want me to answer that?” Piper asked, raising an eyebrow at him. “Besides, you’re covered in oil.”

Leo looked down at his oily, soot-stained work overall and winced. “…fair point.”

~~~ By the time Leo had showered, brushed his teeth and made his way to the dining pavilion in clean, comfortable clothes, he was starting to get seriously tired. That always happened when he came out of Project Hyperfocus Mode.

If this was his body trying to give him a sigh, Leo was expertly ignoring it. 

He made his way over to the Zeus table and slid onto the bench next to Jason pretty much automatically. 

“Hey Superman. Fancy meeting you here. How’s it going?” he asked, immediately digging into the cheeseburger he’d summoned. Man, he was way hungrier than he’d realized.

“Hey.” Jason smiled nervously at him, the way he always did when Leo insisted on sitting at his table. “It’s great to see you, don’t get me wrong, but are you sure we should be pushing our luck with the seating arrangement? Doesn’t that rule exist for a reason?”

Leo laughed. “Dude, didn’t you say your dad closed Mount Olympus specifically because he thought the gods were too involved in their kids’ business? Do you seriously think he’s gonna reopen it just so he can smite me for sitting at the wrong table?”

“He might,” Piper chimed in cheerfully as she sat down across from them. “It probably wouldn’t even make the top ten of the pettiest things Zeus has ever done. Besides, you are pretty annoying.”

Leo threw one of his fries at her in retaliation. “Shut up. You’re gonna scare poor Jason.”

“I’m not scared,” Jason insisted, although he did seem a little embarrassed. “It’s just that the sleepovers are already pushing it. And from the way the ceiling I always thunders at night, I’m pretty sure Zeus isn’t even a fan of me sleeping in there alone.”

“Yikes. Really feeling the love from your dad, hm?” Leo asked with a grimace, patting Jason’s shoulder. Then he turned to Piper. “Well, you heard the guy. No sitting here today. So: are we pissing off your mom or my dad instead?”

“My vote’s on your dad. I love my siblings, but after the last few days of warfare, I could use a bit of a break,” Piper decided immediately. 

“Not sure my sibs are the right call if you want a break from warfare,” Leo pointed out, gesturing vaguely in the direction of his eight year old brother Harley, who had just placed something that vaguely resembled a massive paintball gun down on the edge of the table, “but it’s your funeral.”

He grabbed his plate with one hand, then looped his other arm through Jason’s so he could drag his best friend along to the table that was technically intended exclusively for the Hephaestus kids (though Leo was pretty convinced that, unlike some gods, his dad didn’t actually care about this stuff). 

Jason didn’t seem entirely sure what hit him, but he just let it happen.

Since Leo had a bunch of siblings who were present all year round, he along with Jason and Piper made a bit of a tight fit for the very limited empty spots (and Harley’s contraption being in the table admittedly did not leave a lot of space for additional plates), but Jason immediately looked much more relaxed, so the change of scenery had clearly been a worthwhile endeavor.

“Leo! Hey! Good to see you,” Jake greeted him.

“You any closer to letting us back into the Bunker?” Shane asked immediately. “We’ve been working on the railing shields at the forge and I’m itching to see what they look like fastened to the hull.”

“You have? That’s awesome!” Leo grinned. He hadn’t even told them to do that, but apparently his siblings had found a way to pick up his slack without disrupting the delicate engine work. “Another day or two, maybe. I’ve almost gotten all the kinks worked out. I’m thinking we could try to figure out the loads afterwards?”

“Oh hell yeah! I’ve had a few ideas for-” Christopher started to chime in, but Piper lifted a hand to interrupt him.

“Okay, that’s enough work talk for the evening. This is the one night off we got Leo to agree to. You can do Argo planning literally any other time,” she said sternly.

“Ugh. Fine. But if we miss our deadline, it’s gonna be your fault,” Leo teased, turning his attention to the thing Harley was tinkering with. That Argo talk was banned didn’t mean he couldn’t grill his siblings about their other projects, after all. “What are you working on?”

Harley’s whole face lit up with excitement, but before he could say anything, Nyssa cut in. “Nothing anymore,” she said immediately, crossing her arms and shaking her head at their little brother. “Harls, what did we say about working on deadly weapons at the dinner table?”

“Not if they’re anywhere close to completion,” he said, pouting. “But getting to finish a project is the most exciting part!” He hung his head.

Nyssa’s expression softened slightly. “I know, buddy.” She reached out and ruffled his hair. “It’ll still be exciting after dinner, though. I promise. I’ll even help you test it, if you want.”

“Really?” Harley beamed. “Can Leo come?”

“I’ve got other obligations tonight,” Leo told him, gesturing towards Piper and Jason, “but I’d love to see it in action tomorrow.”

Harley pumped his fist—and, after one more stern glance from Nyssa, he finally put the weapon away. This put the Hephaestus table dinner destruction count at a new record low.

~~~~

It was well past nine by the time Leo and his friends started setting up inside the Zeus cabin. Piper and Leo had brought over sleeping bags as well as a vast collection of pillows from their respective cabins and spread them out around Jason’s sleep nook, flooding the neat, boring area with its’ white and golden pillows with all kinds of mismatched colors. A variety of snacks were spread out around them. It wasn’t exactly cozy��with the giant looming Zeus statue and the weird weather effects, Leo didn’t think it could ever be truly cozy in here—but it was probably the closest to cozy the Zeus cabin could get.

At least the white marble walls made for a great background to aim their projector at. 

The projector in question had been one of Leo’s earliest additions to Jason’s cabin, way before they’d ever started doing movie nights. Its regular purpose was helping Jason sleep. Most nights, it covered the walls in calm nature scenes—mostly videos of animals moving through the woods, sometimes wildlife documentaries—to provide a contrast to the thunderstorm hell of the ceiling. 

Right now, it was showing the menu screen for the movie Piper had picked out—something with the title of Bodies at the River.

The scene that the menu used as a background picture was almost as charming as the movie’s title. It showed a cabin in the creepiest woods Leo had possibly ever seen (which was saying something, considering he’d slept in a bunch of creepy-ass woods in his years as a runaway teen). In front of the cabin flowed the titular river. Leo couldn’t see any bodies at first glance, but there was a definite trail of blood that led into the water.

“Pipes, is this a horror movie?”

“Yep!” she confirmed cheerfully. “You guys aren’t scared of ghosts, are you?” Her eyes twinkled in a mischievous way that Leo didn’t really like. 

“I… don’t think so?” Jason said, but it sounded more like a question than a statement. “Most of the ghosts I’ve met—or at least the ones I sort of remember interacting with—were Lares. They’re Roman house ghosts. Ancestral spirits. Generally friendly.”

But there was a tension in Jason’s shoulders, like there was something he was neglecting to say, or—more likely—some other, ghost-related experience that hadn’t been so pleasant but that he couldn’t quite remember.

“Well, this one definitely isn’t friendly.” Piper smiled. “Leo, how about you?”

“Me? Afraid of ghosts? Psh.” Leo waved her off. “I sleep in a dead guy’s bed, remember? Besides, we’ve had to deal with a bunch of evil people who came back into the land of the living in real life. Why would I be worried about fictional dead guys?”

He conveniently neglected to mention that the whole matter of inheriting his bed from a dead camper was half the reason he’d rarely—if ever—slept in the Hephaestus cabin since they’d gotten back from their quest. They didn’t need to know that.

“Great! Then let’s see if we can make you scared of ghosts by the end of the night,” Piper announced, sounding slightly too gleeful for Leo’s taste.

Oh that lovely note, she went to turn off the lights, then climbed into her sleeping bag and pressed play.

The beginning of the movie wasn’t too bad—just your average teenage protagonists being dumbasses and thinking an isolated cabin in the woods seemed like an A+ spot for a parent-free vacation. 

A few creepy things started happening around the ten minute mark, like furniture moving on its own, the missing person poster they found in the woods and a message that suddenly appeared on the bathroom mirror that looked like it had been written in blood. The protagonists, of course, ignored all the red flags and just set up for their party.

Leo lost his appetite around the time the first body was found with massive slashes across his chest. Jason inhaled sharply next to him.

At that point, one of the teens finally got their phone out and tried to call for help, but obviously they had no cell service. 

“So, this movie was clearly made by demigods, right?” Leo joked in a desperate attempt to lighten the mood. “Because there’s no way in hell you’d get any other group of teens together anywhere and not have even one of them try to update their Instagram. If they aren’t demigods, someone would have discovered there was no cell service out there way sooner.”

”Oh yeah, totally.” Piper snorted. “They do such a good job sticking to demigod safety rules, and then the monster finds them anyway? There’s truly no justice in the universe.”

She leaned forward eagerly, clearly thrilled as she watched the terrified teens try to plot their next course of action. Should they try to flee? But who knew what might lurk in these woods. What if whatever had killed their friend was still out there? Maybe it was safer to bar the doors and wait for sunrise.

Leo was stressed as hell, knowing that whatever they’d decide, it would probably be wrong. 

Piper had explained to Leo once that the reason she enjoyed horror movies was that the anticipation was stimulating for her easily bored brain. “It’s like that rush of adrenaline I got whenever we were in life-or-death-situations on our quest, except my brain knows I’m just watching a movie and there’s no real danger, so I just get the excited, good stimulation brain chemicals and none of the fear ones.”

Leo, for his part, was definitely getting the fear brain chemicals—and apparently so was Jason.

Jason’s eyes were glued to the projection, but he had the expression of someone who couldn’t look away from an impending disaster, not that of someone who was having any amount of fun. His shoulders were tense, his hands clenched tightly around the popcorn bowl like he was preparing for a monster attack and the monster in question may or may not be defeatable via porcelain dishes to the face.

Leo wanted to say something else funny and/or comforting to make his friend feel better (since Piper, who was tapping rhythmically on her knees and grinning from ear to ear, was clearly not going to be any help), but unfortunately he picked just the wrong moment to try and do that. Right as he reached over to tap Jason’s shoulder in an attempt to get his attention, the ghost was properly shown for the first time. She had a pale, sunken face, red eyes and blood-stained hands that glowed faintly in the dark. Her hair and her clothes were dripping like she’d crawled right out of the river. At the same time, blindingly bright lightning flashed on the ceiling above them.

Leo would vehemently deny that this had happened later, but he did scream.

Unfortunately, it turned out tapping your friend’s shoulder during one of the worst jump scare moments of the movie and then screaming in his ear were not particularly comforting moves. 

Jason went rigid, then jumped with the speed and suddenness of a spring uncoiling, tackling Leo right in the chest and pressing him to the ground like he was an enemy that Jason had to incapacitate.

“Sorry! My bad! I wasn’t trying to- it’s just me!” Leo stammered out, words tripping over themselves in their haste to leave his mouth. He felt as startled as Jason looked.

His best friend stared at him, first confusion and then guilt abruptly overtaking his agitation. The second it seemed to click in Jason’s brain what had happened, he immediately moved off Leo, looking horrified. 

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to- gods, you really startled me. I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

He offered Leo a hand up, which Leo took him up on immediately.

“Nah. My ego’s a little bruised from how easily you just managed to do that, but otherwise I’m fine. You did sort of tackle me into a mountain of pillows,” Leo pointed out, chuckling weakly. “You good?”

“Fine,” Jason confirmed, but he wouldn’t meet Leo’s eyes.

Piper cleared her throat.

“Are you guys done making out back there?” she teased. “Because you’re gonna miss one of the best parts.”

Leo exchanged a look with Jason. Both of them seemed to rapidly be arriving at the conclusion that this movie wasn’t going to have “best” (or, honestly, “good”) parts for either of them, but that they were going to bear it for Piper’s sake, anyway. If she could put up with Transformers for Leo’s and terrible 20th century romcoms for Jason’s sake, they could put up with a single horror movie for her.

The “best part” Piper hadn’t wanted them to miss turned out to be a second, even bloodier death scene.

Leo was mostly just glad his dinner didn’t decide to make a sudden reappearance at the sight. He wasn’t usually squeamish when it came to blood, but holy hell.

Jason gave his shoulder a gentle squeeze—which, judging by his ashen face, was probably as much for Leo’s sake as for his own. Thankfully, they managed to make it through this second attempt at comforting with zero tackles involved.

The movie just got worse after that—with Leo’s personal least favorite scene being one where a girl killed her possessed boyfriend in a desperate (as well as futile) attempt to save the rest of her friends. The scene dragged Leo right back to that unpleasant, hazy memory of being mind controlled at Medea’s department store. If it hadn’t been for Piper, either him or Jason might have ended up just as skewered as the guy in the movie.

Judging by how hard Jason was squeezing his hand throughout that entire scene and after, Leo was pretty sure he was thinking the same thing. 

If this hadn’t been a horror movie, the ghost’s backstory actually would have been kind of intriguing. Some jerks had killed her girlfriend over witchcraft accusations centuries ago, and she’d gone into the river to be with her, unwittingly binding herself to this place via her rage. She spent the whole movie testing whether people’s love for their significant others was strong enough to save them—strong in a way she herself hadn’t been. That was why the only couple who got away at the end was a pair of best friends who’d rather die than let harm come to the other person, even when things got really dire.

Leo kind of got why Piper liked the movie, at least thematically. Also, if anyone ever made him sit through another slasher movie, it would be too soon.

The final jump scare at the end of the movie, which featured the ghost seemingly breaking through the screen and addressing the audience directly, startled Leo so badly that he all but jumped into Jason’s lap. 

His heart was still hammering by the time the credits finished rolling and Piper finally switched the lights back on.

“Wasn’t this fun?” she asked, beaming at them. “It’s one of my favorite movies. Thoughts?”

“It was terrifying,” Jason said quietly. “It also made me feel kind of sad.”

Piper nodded sagely like she was teaching a course on this movie and deemed Jason’s reply an acceptable first impression. “Leo?”

“The effects were really cool,” Leo said noncommittally, because focusing on the technical aspects of the movie was easier than admitting just how much it had scared him. “I was expecting the ghost to look kind of stupid, but they seriously knew what they were doing. Hatedthe way the blood glowed when it was splattered all over her dress, that was eerie as hell.”

“Yeah, the effects really make or break paranormal horror movies, and I could gush about the ones used in this movie for days.” Piper’s eyes gleamed. “The patterns on her dress are based on foxfire.”

“The bioluminescent mushroom?” Jason asked, eyes wide. “I knew they seemed familiar.”

“Yeah, that’s the one! It fits extra well because foxfire grows on deadwood—particularly moist or wet deadwood like the one of the tree her soul is tied to.” She beamed. “And the imagery of that tree? Two separate stems growing intertwined, one still living and struggling for sunlight, the other rotten down to the roots, slowly dragging the living tree into the current with its weight? The way that it symbolizes Eleanor’s relationship with her beloved? Absolutely incredible.” She sighed dreamily. “I may disagree with my mom on a bunch of things, but there really is something kind of romantic about the thought of a girl loving me so fiercely she’d haunt the lands of those who wronged me for generations to come.”

“Right! So you clearly have issues,” Leo commented, nodding his head. Piper lightly swatted him with one of the pillows. “Hey!”

“You deserved that.”

Leo rolled his eyes, but he was grateful for the laughs after he’d just spent the better part of two hours terrified.

“How did you even get your hands on this movie? That has got to be R-rated for violence,” Leo pointed out. He loved hearing Piper talk excitedly about movie effects, but he’d much rather move on before she started to try and explain the exact making of the murder scenes. There were some things he’d just rather not think about too hard.

“I asked my dad to send me the DVD from home when we first decided we were going to do regular movie nights.” She smiled. “I talked my way into the cinema to see this movie when I was thirteen. Dad worked with the director once or twice afterwards. When he learned I was a fan, he got her to sign me a copy of the DVD and got me an earlier version of the script.” Piper ran her fingers over the neat black letters on the plastic hull, expression soft. “It’s one of the coolest things he’s ever done for me. And also the one time that it was convenient be doesn’t pay too much attention, because he didn’t even bother to check the age rating.” 

She chuckled.

“That was really nice of him,” Jason said, looking at her fondly. “I don’t think mom ever brought me or Thalia anything back from a set, but I was also way too young when I ended up with Lupa to remember much from before then.”

“Yeah, I really have two best friends who are children of celebrities. No idea how that happened either, but yes, they do make me feel weird about it occasionally, thank you for asking,” Leo joked, holding his empty cup upside down and speaking into it like it was a microphone.

Piper gave him another light swat with her pillow, but she was laughing.

“Anyway… thanks for doing this for me, guys. I could tell the movie wasn’t really your thing, and I vow I’ll find something less scary for you two cowards next time, but… this was the first time I got to watch this film with friends, and it meant a lot to me.”

“Aw, you sap.” Leo moved to hug her. “I’d say anytime, but it appears horror movies aren’t really my vibe. I’m glad it made you happy, though.”

Piper hugged him back, then grabbed Jason’s arm and pulled him into the hug, too. “Sorry. Mandatory trio group hug,” 

Jason chuckled. “I don’t mind. This is nice.”

~~~~

What Leo and Jason did mind, actually, was the ensuing walk through the dark, silent camp to get to the bathrooms. It was late enough that the campfire had died down and the rest of the campers had disappeared into their cabins due to curfew. Thankfully the harpies had been instructed to refrain from eating demigods if all they did was head right to the bathrooms and back, no matter how late into the night it might be. 

One serious downside the Zeus cabin had—in addition to the shitty weather effects, the massive statue and the general gloomy atmosphere—was that, because it had clearly been built as a temple rather than a living space, it didn’t have the small attached bathroom most other cabins came with. Due to this, they had to use the public washrooms to brush their teeth.

Usually, Leo didn’t mind this so much. Sure, a five minute walk outdoors when he had to go to the bathroom in the middle of the night was annoying, but that was all it really was. 

Right now, though? Camp was eerily quiet, and during their walk Leo was reminded unpleasantly of the fact that the three of them were, technically, teenagers staying in a cabin in the woods with little to no adult supervision and a large body of water close by. He did not appreciate the similarities to the movie.

He felt that demigod alarm tug in his gut which kept him vigilant for any sign of danger. At the current moment, this feeling was incredibly stupid considering the massive, very much intact barrier around camp that kept monsters out, but he just couldn’t turn it off. 

He spent the whole walk jumpy as hell. At one point, one of them stepped on a twig, and Leo promptly made the reasonable self-defense move of bursting into flames.

“I mean, yeah, you will for sure be able to defend yourself against the evil twig that way,” Piper snickered. “It doesn’t stand a chance.”

Leo glared daggers at her.

Somehow, this wasn’t even their worst horror movie-related incident. When they passed by the lake—which usually had a nice, calming air to it, even late at night—bubbles rose up in the dark water.

Jason’s gladius was in his hand faster than either Leo or Piper could react, and only Piper’s quick thinking and her charmspoken “STOP” prevented Jason from rashly beheading some poor naiad whose worst crime was probably the gossip she was undoubtedly going to spread about this incident.

Her friend that had emerged next to her looked equally startled.

“Sorry, ladies,” Leo said, looping his arm through Jason’s and pulling him a little further away from the shore, “bad horror movie experience,” he tried to explain. “Uh. Have a nice night?”

“Stupid demigods. Can’t even moonbathe in peace,” the first girl muttered.

The two naiads gave them all disapproving looks before disappearing back beneath the surface.

“You guys are both morons,” Piper said, shaking her head, though there was a distinctly amused glint in her eyes. Now that the situation was dealt with and no one had been seriously hurt, she clearly thought the whole thing was hilarious.

They made sure to give the lake a wide berth in their walk back.

~~~~

The second they’d finished putting some minimum effort into tidying up their sleeping space and killed the lights, Piper immediately passed out. She snuggled up in her sleeping bag and happily, peacefully snored away, like they hadn’t just finished a borderline traumatizing horror movie less than an hour ago.

Leo could not relate. He’d come into this movie night exhausted, but since then, his body had been kicked into flight mode so hard that he wasn’t sure he’d ever remember how to feel tired at all. 

The smallest noises made him jump. Even Piper’s steady inhales and exhales, which Leo usually found comforting because the noise was so familiar, suddenly added to the ominous atmosphere. 

Leo felt like he needed to go for a run or something to get all of this anxious energy out, but a light post horror movie jog through the monster-infested woods at midnight didn’t actually seem like a very good idea to him for some strange reason.

Part of him maybe slightly longed to suffocate Piper with one of their many pillows as revenge for her movie of choice, but he was decently sure a less anxious, less sleep-deprived version of him would probably regret that, so he shelved the murder plans for now. Instead, he closed his eyes to try to at least pretend he was going to get any sleep whatsoever.

Bad call. The final death scene painted itself onto the inside of his eyelids in all its gorey details. 

Yeah, screw closing his eyes. He went back to staring at the ceiling and tried to get a handle on his breathing.

This, unfortunately, turned out to not be much better. The ceiling lightshow painted shadows all over the walls. And like that wasn’t bad enough, the second he’d gotten his heart rate to slow down a minimal amount, the room suddenly exploded into noise—first that of a lightning strike, followed by the loudest thunderclap Leo had ever heard in his life. 

He yelped, flinching violently at the noise. The noise was so loud and seemed so close by that he briefly wondered if maybe they had pissed Zeus off so badly he’d decided to come down from Olympus and blast the roof off this cabin, but thankfully nothing else happened, so that probably wasn’t the case.

Leo would have been mortified about his intense reaction under normal circumstances, but the mortification was slightly lessened by the fact that the noise had made Jason jump so hard that he was literally levitating a full foot above the mattress now.

“Gods of Olympus,” Jason muttered under his breath, which was the closest Leo had ever heard him come to an actual swear word.

“Yeah, no kidding,” Leo agreed, annoyed at how squeaky his voice sounded. “Screw your dad and/or whichever jerk installed this stupid lightning and thunder display.”

He sat up, giving up any pretense that he was going to get even an hour of sleep tonight. “You gonna come back down, or do I need to worry about you floating away on me?”

“No, I-” Jason took a few deep, slow breaths that sounded very forced, then slowly levitated himself back onto his mattress. “I’m fine.”

“Yeah, clearly. And we’re obviously both huge fans of slasher movies,” Leo replied sarcastically, raising an eyebrow at his best friend.

A part of him was honestly relieved that Jason couldn’t sleep, either. The fact that the movie had rattled even Jason Grace—seasoned hero that he was—made Leo feel a lot less ridiculous about just how badly it had scared him.

Piper on the other hand was still happily snoozing away, despite the thunder and Leo’s yelp and Jason’s little flying stunt. 

“Okay, so maybe I’m not fine,” Jason admitted with a sigh. “My adrenaline’s all over the place. I feel like there’s some monster lurking in the dark that I’ll have to fight any second now. The shadows on the walls aren’t helping, either.”

“I’m so glad it’s not just me,” Leo told him. “I don’t even want to stab anything, I’m just super jumpy, but it’d still suck a lot worse if I was lying here waiting for some ghost to show up and murder me while you two were snoring away on either side of me.”

Jason looked at Piper’s sleeping form and shook his head. “I have no idea how she does it.”

“Yeah, me neither.”

“Hey, Leo?” Jason asked, something almost hopeful in his voice. 

“Yes?”

“Any brilliant ideas on how to deal with this situation?”

“Nada, sorry. I’m too hopped up on anxious energy to have anything but panicked squirrel thoughts right now. I’d volunteer Piper for stabbing purposes, since this is technically her fault, but I don’t think she’d appreciate that,” he joked. “Do you think your usual way of dealing with your dad’s whole… shtick might help?” He gestured vaguely at the cabin around them. The cabin ceiling chose this very moment to unleash yet another lightning thunder combo on them. “Holy fuck, cool it, lightning guy,” Leo cursed at the ceiling. The ceiling thundered back disapprovingly.

Jason laughed, shaking his head. “I don’t think you’re helping.” But some of the tension had gone out of his shoulders. “And… I don’t know? I guess we could try one of the nature documentaries. I’m not sure you’d like it, but it might at least distract us for a while.”

“Good enough for me. Besides, Pipes is totally gonna sleep right through that.” Jason laughed again. It was a full, proper laugh this time, the kind that made Leo break out into a huge grin for having caused it. He looked at the empty space on Jason’s mattress—that spot that had been freed up by Jason sitting up—suddenly feeling strangely nervous for a reason he couldn’t quite explain. “Hey, is it cool if I sit there? That way we can just aim the projector at the opposite wall and neither of us has to do any awkward neck craning.”

“Yeah, obviously.” Jason smiled at him. “I’ll go start the documentary, but I’ll be with you in a second.”

He did just that, picking out a documentary about wolves like the predictable dork that he was. To Leo’s confusion, he didn’t immediately sit back down once he’d started it, though. Instead, he began rummaging through the mountain of stuff they’d lazily shoved aside earlier.

“Whatever you’re doing, you better hurry it up,” Leo teased. “You’re gonna miss all the best wolves.”

But when his best friend reemerged from the pile of their things with a very familiar magical tool belt in his hand, Leo immediately shut up.

“Tinkering is how you usually get out your excess energy, right?” Jason asked, holding the tool belt out towards Leo as he sat down on the mattress next to him. “I figured if we’re gonna watch the documentary for my sake, the least I can do is find something that would help you, too.”

“Dude, not to be dramatic, but I could kiss you right now,” Leo told him, delighting in the way Jason’s face lit up at the confirmation that he’d helped.

Leo immediately started pulling bits and bobs from his tool belt, his hands moving pretty much by themselves. Some of the anxious tension immediately drained from his body. 

In the end, that was how they spent most of the night: with Leo tinkering away on several small contraptions that were purely for fun and Jason spouting a bunch of random wolf facts to give additional context to this documentary that he’d apparently memorized word for word. 

Leo forgave the fact that Jason had picked out a kind of gross documentary about wolves hunting less than half an hour in, because Jason scowling at random deer and hares in the projection was both incredibly funny and also genuinely seemed to help him relax.

It was nearly 4 am by the time Leo finally managed to pass out, but by then he’d also mostly forgiven Piper’s movie choice. Horror movie aside, he’d had a wonderful time with his friends. Besides, goofing around with Jason and light-heartedly poking fun at all of his nerdy wolf knowledge had been such a great time that Leo had almost managed to forget about the horror movie altogether. 

And, well… if he went into a temporary coma with his head on Jason’s shoulder and missed all of the Argo-related deadlines he’d set for the next day in favor of catching up on sleep, that was a problem for future Leo.

———

Notes:

Special shout-out to @manygeese for the prompt idea of them watching a horror movie together, I was really struggling with the prompt I initially came up with but ended up really happy with this one :)

I feel like if the fic was narrated by anyone other than Leo, the Valgrace would probably be way more prominent, but Leo is currently still in denial about his feelings for Jason. Jason, on the other hand, is very aware he has a crush on Leo and deserves a medal for not imploding at Leo’s little “I could kiss you. Anyway, moving on”-moment, LOL

And Piper absolutely knew beforehand that neither of them is huge on horror movies and she did pick the movie at least partially because she was hoping they’d hold hands about it. (She did also just really want to see her favorite queer horror movie, though. It’s what she deserves.)

Also, I’m not the horror movie type. Bodies at the River is a horror movie that I specifically made up for a different horror movie watching fic (because Im not very familiar with many horror movies) and I decided it would both be a fun nod to that fic as well as convenient to recycle it here. That made-up movie working kind of well thematically was mostly a nice coincidence. Another funny coincidence: somehow, this fic ended up almost the exact same length as the first fic I used this fake movie in? No idea how that happened, but I do find it wildly hilarious.

Anyway, those were my rambles for the day, lmao. Thank you so much for reading! I hope you all (and of course especially the recipient of this gift fic) enjoyed it! I’d love to hear your thoughts!

[palmtreehero]

I find that Western fandom spaces tend to be very individualistic and focus so much on the comfort of "me" (which I assume is the influence of American culture? it seems to come from American places).

I don't care about top/bottom so I won't care for you. I'm editing art for my personal use so I don't care that the author doesn't want it to be edited (I saw people edit Rokuro Saito art even though they asked not to. There is one extremely popular Akeshu edit of their art that had a comment written under the tweet about how Rokuro Saito doesn't want the edits to be made, but the "creator" never responded to it or deleted the post, people just don't care). I don't like this ship so I'm going to hate on it publicly and bother the shippers. This character is not my taste so you're not allowed to like it either.

It's so exhausting

Aw anon I'm so sorry you're also experiencing exhaustion about this.

You bring up a good point, people are SO ENTITLED. I think the problem lies in how people bring morals into shipping too? There's less and less distinction about what is fictional and self indulgent, and what your actual views/values are...

I'm gonna yap so I'll just put a read more

People seem to think that what you consume is what you advocate for irl, which is so bizarre to me. I hate that people have to rationalize what they like as well, to fit a "good moral light".

My values align a lot more with JP/Asia fandom, I've mentioned before that it's been years since I really interacted with such a large western fanbase. It's kind of jarring LOL

I think the Western fandom doesn't have a concept of "self defense". Where you properly tag or even just indicate key words of what you're posting for the comfort of OTHERS. It's a simple concept that allows people to see what they like, but also avoid what they don't like. It also helps reduce misunderstandings, so I don't really get what the demerit is.

Probably the motivations are different, I have seen people say they refuse to tag things because they think it affects engagement (specifically on twitter). Which I personally don't see as a problem. I guess I have different values regarding sharing my works, because I'm not someone who cares for numbers or growth.

I think it's great that people want to grow, but when it comes to fandom and IPs that are not our own I just feel like it comes across as disingenuous to only care about engagement/clout/gains. We do this out of passion, no? Although that's just my personal feelings, many people are trying to make it big out there and fandom is a common stepping stone, so I can't fault them for it...!!

That's why it's kind of a struggle for me to stay in the western side of fandom, so many times I think of just leaving the fandom because it gets a bit much. Every other day I'm crashing out about seeing things that I don't want to see because it's untagged, and I'm forced to completely mute/block accounts that I otherwise would be ok with if they just tagged their stuff. It's a bit sad, but that's the only way I can navigate this large of a space.

It brings me comfort that there are others who are able to recognize this shift in fandom temperature. It was definitely not this hostile, people are just getting meaner and meaner lately. There are definitely great people though, so I hope that you're able to find like minded people that will ease the exhaustion.

[kaorucup]

speculating about the season 3 peepers villain arc

lately I've been thinking about season 3 again and I wanna cope with the fact it won't happen soon, so I want to talk about one of its concepts

(IT'S GONNA HAPPEN MAN, JUST WAIT UNTIL NEW PPG PROJECT AND THE NEW FOSTER'S HOME ARE ACTUALLY DONE)

something that's always piqued my interest was the mention of "peepers being tempted by the darker side" in official season 3 posts. (you know which, we've seen them all). it's not the only one there that interested me, but some concepts like the three new villains due for season 3 were actually deconfirmed by Craig himself in a Twitter q&a, and instead said it would be an existing character.

(I think. I'm not sure about that one)

see, things like that always change when everything is actually in production. I actually wanna make an entirely different post dedicated to the main antagonist and/or conflict because there's a lot of stuff to discuss there. but something that I truly think WILL make it into season 3 will be peepers' villain arc. I think there's a chance they could build off what's already in the show to lead up to this arc.

a quick recap of his attitude towards hater

in season 1, it's clear peepers tended to stay on hater's good side, since he still (somewhat) respected hater's actions in a way since he's been with him for so long + he only followed hater's goal of destroying wander and sylvia since they were their ONLY obstacle in their goal to rule the galaxy

I used this frame specifically because it's one of the only times he scolds hater in season 1 (maybe the only time, I forgot), and even then he's still scared to do so since hater even threatens him after this

and as we all know, by the end of season 1 and season 2 in general, he scolds hater A LOT more often because dominator's arrival spelled doom for the entire galaxy, even the villains. even before that, it was clear hater's obsession with wander was damaging the reputation of the empire, and hell other villains were even beating him on the leaderboard. by the greater hater, he's reduced to the 29th greatest. and now if you add hater's failure to initially properly focus on restoring his control over planets to putting his obsessions (wander in the beginning, dominator by the end) at priority equals one very pissed peepers.

in this particular frame, we all know this is a big moment in which peepers loses it and truly gets mad at hater for losing complete focus.

so when he finally locks in during the season finale it shocks peepers so much it moves him to literal tears. this man has been disappointed so much this season that this final move has made him truly happy. from my fair hatey to this episode, hater's ultimate goal is to save the galaxy to be able to conquer it again. so when that goal is accomplished he finally goes back to doing evil and attempts to conquer the secret final planet, peepers is literally so happy he has a heart eye. (not even close to being straight)

of course he's disappointed once more when hater begins to chase wander again.

"nothing ever changes."

2. peepers has greater plans for himself

"the universe will be mine!"

"if you ask me, I should be the one in charge."

I'm pretty sure I'm missing more moments where he shows an interest in becoming a great villain on his own. in general, it's made very clear that peepers is much more competent than hater. hell even evil sandwich has described him as a "smart guy who actually knows what evil is all about."

3. I FINALLY SPECULATE ABOUT THE VILLAIN ARC

So with all that background information out of the way, we reach the actual speculation.

these Tumblr posts by Frank Angones about season 3 are what got me to write this post. with this info in mind, I have a little scenario to share here

at the beginning of season 3, Hater would become a hero to the galaxy (following up from the ending to the end of the galaxy), and even though he tried conquering planets, he wound up either not conquering them or doing good deeds instead, to his own—and peepers'—dismay. again, taking the end of the galaxy's ending in mind, he clearly intended to conquer the new galaxy. however, it's clear he's definitely not as willing to do so and admits to peepers at one point that he tends to think about not being a bad guy. this of course breaks peepers' heart (yeah in that way too), and in a fit of rage leaves the empire.

he escapes to somewhere (idk where) and from there the antagonist(s) of season 3 either pick him up or kidnap him. from there they show peepers their ways and begin tempting him to join them.

from there more new scenarios can be made, depending on their motivation. Frank Angones has also stated that "there are worse fates than galactic destruction". in a future post about the season 3 antagonist(s), I'll explain more about what this could mean. since the post only says he could be tempted, we don't know if he would actually temporarily switch to their side.

if peepers joins an antagonist: he likely takes in their ideologies and hater (?) may have to remind him of his evil ways or something

if peepers declines: he realizes who he is to the hater empire and makes a move against the antagonist

secret options: the darker side is actually an actual villain (the antagonist(s) aren't "villains" like hater and dominator)

the scenarios are similar but I'll share them

if peepers joins them: he uses his knowledge and evil traits to the max to begin committing atrocities and stuff like that. hater and/or wander has to do something about it

if peepers declines: he realizes the villain is insane and goes back to hater (very, very, very small chance for a redemption, but maybe it will because wander can help him or something)

(I'm iffy on this one)

4. one final piece of speculation related to his backstory

when writing this post, I made two and two and found out something.

I don't tend to trust fandom wikis that much, but since the information seems to be accurate and aligns with what Frank is saying, I think all this implies the watchdogs mock peepers a LOT for being the shortest watchdog. what's also slightly implied is that his napoleon complex (in which he happens to be insecure about his height, which has been shown quite a bit in the series itself. "you are tall" being part of his motivational tapes, wander raises his soles to give him a sense of growth, the platform boots as a gift).

so if this is a big part of his origin story, I assume that way before he joined the hater empire with the other watchdogs, peepers was mocked for being the shortest. so when he and the watchdogs pledge allegiance to the empire, he "feels like he has something to prove", and begins from the bottom like most of the watchdogs until he's done so many evil things that hater notices him and promotes him to commander.

so now with that in mind, it makes sense why peepers would lose his mind over hater potentially giving up evil after pretty much devoting himself to evil for so long

once again, I yapped what I needed to yap and I'm satisfied

oh my god I spent like almost 3 hours researching and writing for this dear GROP

Edit: now that I think about it the way he said the line about the watchdogs feeling special and important in their interviews was actually kind of spiteful, which makes sense (poor guy wants to feel like that more often.....)

[bangpop91]

So even though no one asked I've decided to weigh in on the whose going to be the next captain of the 118 discourse because I have a lot of thoughts about it.

As a reminder we aren't going to know who is the captain until s9. Tim has sad as much in interviews. Everything that happens in the next two episodes is to build suspense and tension.

The way I see it, in terms of canon story telling there are three contenders for the position of captain of the 118.

Hen

Chimney

Buck

I say that because they are the three og 118 teammembers who have been there since s1.

Chimney:

Right out the gate we can eliminate Chimney.

Even though he was acting captain in s2 and as a one-off in s4 during the sniper arc in s6 he flat out said he didn't want to do it again.

He's also been very effectively set up to be the mentor figure. If we apply the concept of the Hero's Journey™️ to the 118 Chimney fills the role of mentor. He's the Gandalf, the Merlin. Think of the speech he gave Ravi in s6 and how it echoed the speech Eli gave him in Chimney Begins.

I think Chimney is going to have to have his own journey where he relearns to "hand it off".

Buck:

Buck is the next one to eliminate. He's starting to show his potential for leadership but he still isn't ready.

Once again using the hero's journey. Buck is at the beginning still. He's experienced the death of his father(figure) and now has to go through his journey that prepares him to ascend his father (figure)'s throne.

A great comparison is Carlos's journey from the season finale of s4 through out s5 of Lone Star.

I do think Buck will be the Captain of the 118 in a few years but not yet. He still has some life to live before he's ready.

Hen:

Point blank. I will be shocked and pissed if Hen isn't the captain. This is a plot thread that has been being set up since s6... Actually since Hen Begins. If suddenly Buck was captain instead of Hen it would have been like if Mateo had been promoted to captain over Judd at the end of lone star.

There is a reason the camera panned to Hen during Gerrard's speech about why he was back as interim captain.

It's my personal belief that Hen turning down the captaincy is the red herring. Its TPTB spinning time until s9 and lets the GA engage with the story and possible conflict of who is going to be the next captain. But it also gives the show a chance to let Hen explore her grief and confusion in the wake of Bobby's death.

Maybe this is me being delusional, but I don't think Captain is the end of Hen's journey. Ever since Hen begins I have genuinely believed that Hen's professional journey ends with her as the Chief of the LAFD. I have felt this way ever since she was told that she is the new face of the LAFD dring Hen begins.

Even from a production perspective I think Hen makes the most sense as Captain.

Let's say Eddie stays with the 118 at the end of s8.

With Hen promoted to Captain, Eddie can be shifted into Hen's former position of Paramedic and be Chimney's partner with Ravi shifted into Eddie's position as Buck's partner.

Now let's say Eddie also leaves at the end of s8

They don't need to worry about bringing in two new cast members. They have already laid the groundwork to move Ravi to a shift and be Buck's new partner. Then they can also bring in a probie to be the new paramedic. This allows us two new characters to explore, it opens up new stories for Chimney as well as Buck and Hen.

In my head this was a lot more articulate. But I've got a cluster migraine brewing and needed to get all this out of my head so I can focus on my other stuff.

[disarmd]

I adore listening to you talk writing! Truly would love to just sit in a coffee shop and pick your brain for hours about it. Since I can't actually do that, I thought I'd do the next best thing and send along some questions that you can feel free to answer or not :) 1. Have you or do you write original fiction? I'm being a bit nosy with this one but I'm so curious because of the way you talk about writing, etc, etc ^_^

2. Per chance do you have any tips to avoid procrastination? I really like writing but I have such a hard time just getting *started*, I find I do everything but the writing! And then sometimes I have the opposite problem, I'll get started but I won't be able to finish. I'll put it off and put it off and next thing you know a month has gone by and I haven't written more than a few sentences. Wishing you all the best with your current writer's block! I hope you can work through it ASAP!

You are truly so so kind for sending me this ask, nonnie, thanks for chatting with me about writing. I’m absolutely pretending that we’re having a lovely latte in a coffee shop with a massive greenwall ☕️🌿

1. I’ve written original fiction in an amateur way, but I’ve never had a go at getting published or anything. I was majoring in writing in my first undergrad before I switched, and then in my twenties I did a lot of continuing ed writing classes, and had a writing circle where we met every two weeks and workshopped each others’ stuff, but the volume of fanfic I’ve written is much higher than original. I’ve obviously thought a lot about it so I’ll just share where I landed, but I’d be really curious to hear what you or anyone else thinks on this topic!

So for me, I’ve thought before that I should try to focus more on original stuff mostly because of the secrecy around fanfic. I can’t talk about writing with rl people, so I have this hobby that I spend so much time on that's completely secret. I do sometimes wish I was able to show people the stuff I write (or like… some people, occasionally, anyway). But if I think about what you “get” from fanfic vs original, it’s like. Fanfic: community. Tons of people to talk to about the thing you're interested in. A level of interaction with people who read your stories that you wouldn’t get for original unless you’re like the 0.01% of successful writers. even if you get like three comments, i think that's probably three more than the average short story author is going to get. And you get to write exactly what you want, in exactly the way you want to do it. Vs with original, you’d be able to talk about it in real life. theoretically there would be some monetary compensation - but there is no chance I could earn as much writing as I get from my actual job. And you lose that complete freedom to just write literally whatever you want because now it’s become a commodity. For my writing in particular, I know I’m not as good as great writers and what what I write is not widely appealing, so I don’t think that it would be possible for me to be published, but that’s my rationale for not even trying haha.

Anyway, I'm so curious to hear anyone’s thoughts on this - I’m assuming it’s something many of us have thought about before and I’d be really interested in where others have landed.

2. Re: tips to write more... there are so many different facets to this! if you mean you have trouble getting started writing, maybe just create a routine. write 15 minutes every day at 8 pm or whatever. If you mean you have trouble starting a story, i think there is a feeling that comes with the wanting to write a specific story that is very motivating compared to the feeling of just want to write, in a vague way. having a particular story you want to tell and knowing all the aspects of the story, not just a concept - like you know the characters/settling/conflict/plot arc/etc. the full story. makes it much easier to start writing that story.

to the second part, in terms of finishing: there has to be motivation to go through the work of writing, so it really helps to have someone that you’re excited to share it with. It’s very common for people to share drafts with friends to get that encouragement to keep pushing through to the end. I sent Liza the first 5k of In Abidance like a month ago, and then the next 5k after that, and it helped because a) it motivated me to finish drafting those continuous sections of the story so now I’m not thinking about The Full Story; the first 10k are done and in the different gdoc with Liza where they’re safe, and b) having a nice friend say encouraging things makes it feel a lot better compared to being completely alone in the gdoc. I reread the comments Liza left in the gdoc as a comfort when i'm spinning out about writing more. and then my motivation for writing the story at all is that i want to write it for odds, who's been the kindest, and made the experience of writing this series so completely satisfying. they left this incredible comment last night and it got me so excited that i wrote 800 words before bed.

so not writing to an imagined audience or trying to please hypothetical strangers, but writing is an act of communication and i don't think anyone would finish anything if there wasn't one person they planned on sharing it with. have a writing buddy that you share your writing with every week or month can be very motivating. if there's a story you know one person wants to read, then you can write it for them... and you feel so much more motivated to actually finish it, for them.

but to also consider things a bit more broadly, if you like writing but are having trouble doing it - is it because you've been working at a difficult job all day long and don't have creative energy left when you get back home? are you too burned out from following the terrifying and unrelenting current events and don't have capacity to write on top of staying regulated? or, on the more fun side, is it that the other stuff you're doing instead of writing is just genuinely more appealing and that's where you want to spend your time? because that's fine too, like we don't have to write if there are other things we prefer. or if we're burned out or otherwise don't have capacity.

I'll be a bit more vulnerable because this is a long post and probably not that many people are still reading, but I don't have writer's block - i've been writing an average of 2,350 words/week for the last two years straight (I checked the actual stats on ao3 haha. and that's only published fic, it would be higher if we included all the wips). i'm not blocked from writing, it's just i've been feeling quite sad, which for me looks like self hatred, so the unpleasantness of continuing on while the mean voice says very cruel things. the reason why i muse about writing so much is certainly because i find it interesting, but it's also that i'm always trying to figure out how to be better because i feel tormented by all the ways i suck.

with the way people talk about productivity on social media, I could tell you that my "hacks" are to try to write a bit before bed almost every day and have some longer writing sessions on fri-mon (weekends & work from home days haha), and to move around throughout the story to write what is most urgent and interesting to me, and to only start stories when I mostly know the ending, and to set deadlines for myself that i have to stick to, and to motivate myself by sharing with friends, and all of that is sort of true, but i can make myself do almost anything because i have a nonstop internal monologue telling me that if i don't, i'm worse than worthless.

the myth of productivity is that you can reach a point where you feel like you've done enough and you just have to keep pushing until you get there, but in fact that point never comes.

so i'll just end with that, because any time I talk about anything with an achievement orientation (writing more! writing better!), i want to acknowledge the full picture.

[wheretearsflow]

Living My Dream Semester: Fall 2025 Edition!

It’s a week before my final year of college starts and I wanted to share with you dolls what my Fall list, schedule, and semester will look like. I enjoy taking my time to write about every specific thing in detail inside of my notebook, but I decided I’d share a bit of it with you.

I believe everyone should try to do this because it will help you all achieve all your desires the way you want and you won’t be as anxious since you’ll be prepared to receive all your blessings! There’s no time constraint either, and you’re destined for greatness! Keep believing and writing dolls xx you deserve what you wish for.

Anyways, I want to start off by saying I’m worth every single one of my desires and manifestations and I’m eternally grateful for receiving everything I wish for so quickly and safely. It’s a blessing to be this lucky and abundant, but I am chosen to life this life and I’m going to make the best of it. It’s my final year of college, I’m definitely going to live it up and enjoy all my grand opportunities.

Note: You can use this for your own personal use and manifesting your Fall semester!

My Fall List:

- I received top marks on every single assignment. The best part about it all? I didn’t even have to work hard for it! I was always blessed with academic excellence, it’s in me to be successful and I was born to receive the best grades in school. I am a prodigy, I was destined to excel in every aspect of my life and I continue to thrive in doing so without even lifting a finger. I am worth all my opportunities and grades, I am worth being the most successful woman on this planet. Thank you Universe for blessing me with divine opportunities, timing, and freedom to succeed in my academic life.

- I managed to get the best professors ever! They are the most lenient, supportive, and helpful teachers I’ve ever met in my entire life! Of course they are, I am destined to succeed peacefully. Of course they are lenient and helpful, they make my life so much easier! They honestly never assign much homework at all, they focus on more hands on activities in class rather than working outside of class! They all also don’t really believe in exams. Actually, I didn’t really have many exams this semester at all. Most, if not all of my grades, came from in class fun activities, easy homework assignments, and participation! Any “final exams” or big assignments were either not given, done as an activity as a whole class, or if in the rare case an exam was given, it was fully open notes and easy as breathing! Every concept was taught easily, the professors being amazing teachers and keeping it simple and easy for all students.

- I got asked to join way more clubs and I made so many different friends! Every single day I’d come to campus, someone would approach me to join a club or activity. I’m always chosen and popular, receiving amazing opportunities to grow my resume, make friends and connections that help me abundantly. Every single day I’m busy with something fun and exciting, learning something new that truly interests me and I’m surrounded by sweet people who want me to continue to succeed and help me in doing so daily.

- Job recruiters yearn for me daily, approaching me every time I walk around campus. It’s honestly cute how much I’m wanted in the work field. I don’t ever have to do much and they just come up to me and ask me to join them. It’s amazing how much the Universe shows me how much I’m chosen. I’m always receiving the best, most abundant offers and they all fit my needs, interests, and lifestyle. I’m always attracting endless wealth, fortune and abundance in my life. Every opportunity strikes me with more riches than I could have ever imagined. I am worth every single penny, every opportunity, every approach.

- I’m going to more parties this semester. I’ve always been a shy doll, but I want to go to all sorts of parties and so I will. I always get invited to the best parties, everyone approaches me wanting me to join them. I’m always going to the most fun, the most exciting and the most interesting parties ever all semester. I have so much time for them too because my classes are easy and don’t conflict with my social life! I am truly blessed I can enjoy my semester this much and expand my social circle. The party life is interesting, I deserve to live it up in my 20s after all. I always remain safe, happy and aware at these events. The Universe always ensures I’m having the best time possible without any fear or harm when I’m out and about. Thank you xx

- I made a huge group of girl friends <3 More slumber parties, movie nights and dinner dates with pretty dolls that absolutely adore me. They are kind, successful, funny and loyal. They are uplifting, honest and supportive in all aspects. They always show up and truly have changed my life for the better.

- Some materialistic things I received this Fall is a nice big brown coat. Some Uggs with the bows. A Cartier bracelet. Another Dior necklace and a new journal that I didn’t purchase myself. More jewelry and bags would be appreciated, all brands and all uniquely beautiful. I already got my Tabis so I’m honestly not sure what more I want. Maybe I’ll think of something more soon.

My Fall Schedule:

- My professors usually cancel class a lot, it makes it easier for me so I don’t have to drive much at all! I get to just self study a lot at home if I need to, which I really don’t because the courses are all so easy and simple. It’s nice though, to stay home a lot and not be stressed to go to class much.

- Attendance is not mandatory for any class. My professors are usually very good at posting everything online and allowing us to go at our own pace. All my professors are very simple and lenient this way and make my life much much easier and successful.

- Not only are most of my classes always cancelled, my college itself gave us many breaks this semester! They gave us many long week breaks and many days, they cancelled classes overall for all students including me. It was really nice, it allowed me to focus on my job, social life, and myself even more than I already do.

- Everyday this Fall semester is a miracle, full of luck and full of positive surprises for me. I am blessed with an easy day everyday, leniency in all aspects, and success at all times. I wake up knowing I’m going to have the best day ever and I do. My day consists of eating good foods, enjoying nature, reading my books, enjoying time with my friends, hanging out with my boyfriend and spending time with my amazing family. I really never was meant for bad or hard days, I’m lucky I never get them either.

Overall Semester:

Listen up! This is permanent and this is done. You chose this, you got this. Overall, my semester was full of great things. It was exciting, fun, abundant and full of great surprises. I made so many new friends who truly care about me, help me succeed more, and always show up for me. I met so many new colleagues, strangers who ended up changing my life, and big fat opportunities. I went to many fun social events, I excelled perfectly in all my academics. I passed every single class, assignment and exam. I received more gifts than I ever even imagined. I had the most lenient, freeing, and supportive schedule ever. I never had to pay for food, I received more and more money magically every single second. I enjoyed focusing more on myself and watching how much I succeed so easily daily. I built stronger connections with those who are already in my life and my family. I met Summer, my best friend. I truly had the best time of my life, and I mean of course I did. I’m worth all of it. Every single bit.

My Song of the Fall:

[queerprayers]

my dad put on the hymn station in the car today (i’m pretty deconstructed but just kind of in a gray area) and it’s such a weird feeling wondering why so many of these songs made me gross sob at like ten years old?? what even was that? i’ve heard of mega churches using music as emotional manipulation, would that be a similar thing? that one ‘blessings come through raindrops’ song especially, it was actually such an ongoing phenomenon when i was too little to really process it

Hi beloved,

When I was little my friends would call my church "boring"—there were no drums, the music was often plain and mostly settings of poems that taught theological concepts or were quiet meditations. Sure, someone who was grieving or especially overcome might cry, but that was not the norm. Emotion was something we might have, and was an understandable reaction to Love, but the liturgy was about participating in faith and mystery together, not about Feeling. A song might be written by someone experiencing peace or sadness, but we sang them to stand in solidarity with that emotion, not to manipulate our own. My childhood faith (thanks to my overly educated family) was quite academic. Looking back, I am so grateful. I don't know what I would have done with a mood disorder in a church that expected me to feel or perform certain ways, or a family that answered my questions with comforting phrases instead of handing me a book.

I am so sorry you were in an environment that made you sob regularly as a child—not because crying is bad, but because it sounds like it wasn't giving you space for emotion, but rather creating and expecting certain emotions. Music absolutely has a lot to do with this, based on everything I've heard from people who grew up in evangelical/non-denominational/non-liturgical churches.

You were a kid! And (based on my assumptions) instead of a space to be introduced to faith, be cared for, ask questions about difficult concepts, and react however you authentically would react, you were played songs meant to conjure up certain emotions, and probably expected to be overcome with reactions you didn't understand. Even if you weren't in a megachurch, there can be similar stuff going on. Churches so often want kids to be entertained rather than educated, convinced to keep coming back rather than given space to find inherent meaning, to become emotionally attached rather than to understand. It's not your fault if that's what you were given. They wanted you to internalize the lyrics when you were too young to process them—then they don't have to be especially meaningful or answer too many questions. They wanted you to Feel God—but that's not stable enough for a life of taking God seriously.

To be clear, I'm not against emotion in worship, and there are more lively churches than my own that have deep theology and respect for individual experiences. In my southern experience, "Black church" was always louder and more open to individual reactions than my quiet Lutheran one—gospel music is great! Dancing is holy! Communal response is generally a positive thing. But there can be more sinister or even just careless environments. If you're an adult with a fully formed faith, it can be cathartic to have a space to loudly Feel about it all. But in my opinion, this should not be the focus/purpose of liturgy. (Concerts/sharing opportunities/support groups all have a place—preferably a separate one.) Especially for kids, without that life experience and knowledge, being thrown into overly emotional faith without any groundwork can leave them reeling and confused as adults. And you hit the nail on the head with "emotional manipulation"—conjuring up sobbing is way easier than taking religion seriously.

I don't know if you've seen the tweet that's like, "I thought I was feeling God as a kid but then I went to a One Direction concert and realized I just liked pop music." Music does that to us! I love concerts! I rarely cry in church but I sobbed seeing My Chemical Romance (and feel no shame about it). But basing a community on that elevated experience is what fandom is for, not Church.

When you feel something and are told, "That's God," what happens when you don't feel it? Are you to understand that God is absent? What happens when you feel it at a pop concert? Is that a sin? My aforementioned mood disorder makes me very careful about assigning deeper meaning to emotion. God is not the emotion—God is the Love that, depending on our life and brain, we can feel many things about. There are all different kinds of churches for all different kinds of people, but I don't believe that one primarily bent on eliciting emotion will ever touch the full mystery of our God. And in fact, it too often drives people away when they want more than Experience.

God is a god of beauty, and Christianity (and most religions) have a special place for music, so I'm not ruling out that God can be present to people in "Blessings Come Through Raindrops," but. Y'know. There's more to it all. I support hymn stations in the car—a very appropriate time for casual cry-worthy pop songs—but I hope in your deconstructed gray area you can find more than overwhelmed crying. You deserve music that makes you think—I don't mean you have to only listen to Bach, but have art in your life that you connect with in a genuine thoughtful way, as well as a fun or cathartic way.

Ultimately, you deserve art/communities that take theology seriously, that hold space for more complicated feelings. You deserve a faith (or a meaningful agnostic life) that is present regardless of whether you feel like you're seeing One Direction or not.

<3 Johanna

[shirajellyfish]

Hellooo!!! I hope this ask finds you well, Shira!! Ah, gosh I'm really shy to be asking anything. But I AM curious and a fan of your work...

How did you come up with the living dolls AU? How did it come to be?

Or has this been asked already? If so, I'm going to cry in the corner while scrolling to look for your answer.

Oooh I love being asked things! I'm so happy! I ended up rambling on this subject a little more than I meant to, oops. It's just so fun to discuss! Putting in a Read More for the incoming wall of text.

Living doll AU had a few inspirations that I ended up pulling together into a single fic concept.

It started as one of many, many, MANY random AU ideas. I have about a bajillion of them, and don't intend to write most of them as fics since many are very one note. Just little concepts, single scenes, brief moments. One of these was an idea about a world where animatronics are like dolls in a way (ha, I did NOT plan on that becoming literal.) They seem perfect and beautiful, owned commonly by many people. Reader would want one but be unable to afford any, admiring those had by others instead, thinking about how lucky those people are to have such wonderful perfect friends.

But the animatronics are are also thrown away as easily as dolls. One day, Reader would randomly stumble across a Sun and badly broken Moon in a dumpster. (the concept for this is very similar to the scene that made it into the final fic.) They'd find out that someone had thrown the two out without a care, discarding them as easily as an old broken toy. Reader would take them in and fix them. This wasn't really something I felt the urge to write into a full fic though, and it didn't really have anywhere exciting to go from there.

I put the idea away for a while, and never expected to revisit it. But then, later on...

The idea of immortality. People often believe that an AI would be immortal, but that isn't true. Machines are made of mechanical parts that wear down with time and use, everything in them must be maintained and eventually replaced. The seemingly 'immortal' things humans make will continue to exist for exactly as long as someone loves them enough to maintain them. An animatronic could live forever, or it could last barely a week before being discarded. That's something that became central to the story, the fic eventually even being named after it- As Long as we are Loved.

This got me thinking about a story about maintenance and repair, with repair as a form of showing love. That wasn't very appealing to write though, because I've already written a LOT of words on the concept of repair as an expression of care. I See You Sundrop has a great many thousands of words that focus on repair as an act of caring for a friend. Writing a fic about that would be treading over the same ground I'd already covered.

But then, when I thought about that little idea from earlier, I wondered... What if instead of being visually perfect robots almost like dolls, treated like toys, they were literally dolls brought to life? Made alive by caring, and sustained entirely by it? Immortal in the technical sense, but often living only a short time because they depend on being loved to continue living.

There's also the fact that I just plain love doll AUs, and wanted more of them. There are very very few doll AUs in the fandom, and most of them are along the lines of flirty doll monsters that want to eat people. That wasn't really what I wanted from a living doll AU (no shade to those fics, they just weren't my personal jam.) You know what they say, if what you want to read doesn't exist you just have to write it yourself!

You can blame @storytellingbadger for it actually getting written though haha. I did a lot of brainstorming in chat with her. It was such a weird out there AU, and SO self-indulgent, I didn't actually think I'd write it out. Instead I went off on silly concept tangents in chat with her. She responded with questions and encouragement to help me flesh out the idea, and somewhere along the way my brain latched on so tight to the idea that I couldn't stop myself from writing.

Ah, that got a lot longer than it should have been... I feel a little embarrassed posting this entire ramble when I probably should have just said "Oh, the immortality thing, and caring, you know?" But I've already written it now, so you might as well have it.

Thank you for reading :)

[stardustwriting]

Ein in 🚸

Major spoilers for future plot going all the way to my potential rewrite of emerald secret

Music that I refound that reminded me if Aphmau (hero) and Ein (villain)

So Ein, as many of us have grown to realize was not a great villain. Hardly a proper antagonist. Looking back everything he did had reasonable explanation as to why it happened and just WASNT dealt with properly (no seriously he was a 16 yo boy with superiority issues and no concept of the real world after going to an ALL WEREWOLF school. He walked in already the omega with NO one showing him the ropes. Not even the supposed alpha, Aphmau. But I digress)

Ein deserved to be a better villain, especially after OVER six years of plotting Aphmau and her friends’ demise.

This is how I imagine it (vaguely, because I still don’t wanna spoil too much despite my warning):

this is long btw

Ein: sent from an all werewolf school and environment (his parents are definitely neglectful because even in this version that’s INSANE to do without prep)

Aphmau, at this time, is alpha and is notified of a new member of the pack

This kid is quiet and keeps sniffing her but sure whatever.

”You can’t be alpha you’re a human”

“Are you gonna fight me about it?”

“No, youre still female (or some other excuse)”

“Pick a struggle”

Ein is adverse to Aphmau at first but realizes how well she fits in and warms up to her. Reallllllyyyy close.

Her being nice to him does not help his feelings but what is she gonna do? NOT be nice to him?

Ein is still a werewolf supremacist

Ein is treating Meif’was poorly and Humans the worst

Aphmau doesn’t like that: “yknow I’m human right?”

Ein is still racist

Ein gets an idea

“That wouldnt be a problem if you were a werewolf”

”I’m not. now be nice”

Ein is still racist.

Ein likes his idea

Ein is doing weird shit until he lashes out on Kai and get expelled (yup it’s that bad)

Ein is bitter and still tries to creep on Aphmau

She tries to talk to him.

”Become a werewolf for me”

”no”

”Why?!”

”Because it’s not right. I’ll be in pain for so long.”

”I’ll take care of you”

”Ein, no.”

”You don’t care about me.”

”That’s not-“

”if you did you’d do it.”

yikes. Anyway

she eventually moved away to college (and likely even gets a restraining order)

college, mystreet, love love yadda yada

holy shit ein

omfg he’s still racist

a racist with power

not good

Anyway I really want to focus on him being a werewolf supremacist and avoidant of change and anything. Because he wants Aph sooooo bad. It’s NEVER that serious.

And another thing:

We’re not having no ADULT beat a high schoolers ass idc if Ein is a senior in my version, Aaron coming to beat his ass shouldve neverrrrr happened. You’re TRESSPASSING.

other things I should mention:

Garroth, Laurance, Dante, Gene, Aaron, Katelyn, Lucinda, and Teony ALLLLLL graduate before any of this even happens. So Aphmau just has (basically) her Not Alone Buddies, Kai, Blaze (💜💜✨✨💞💕💕💞💞) and the SKs MAYBE. I would say The Pups too but they’re definitely scared of Ein.

Ein isnt new. He’s been there since freshmen year but werewolves just ignore him. He doesn’t really speak unless spoke to

Ein and Aaron actually would’ve gotten along despite their opposing opinions of werewolves

Uhm that’s it

PLEASE ASK ME ABOUT THIS HOOLIGAN ‼️‼️ or anything else if you want 🥺👉🏾👈🏾✨

[the---hermit]

Hi, I'm actually new to #studyblr and saw one of your post. I'm curious about what amount of hours that you can usually have yourself to sit and study focusly? I saw a lot of YouTube videos that has people in 10+ hours study session and I've been questioning myself because I can't really stay focused for that long. I only manage to focus 1-2 hours so far and it makes me feel like I'm dumb and unproductive.

So can you tell me more about your story and maybe unpopular opinion/tips that you have regarding about the concept of productivity in studying?

Thank you and sorry if I made you uncomfortable with asking question, I just want to connect with people in tumblr since I saw a lot of #studyblr post and want to know more about people's unique journey so that I can learn from it.

Have a great day!

Hello dear and welcome to the studyblr side of our beloved hellsite! I would like to start by saying that it's totally okay to ask, and I am actually very VERY happy you have reached out about this.

Firstly everyone studies differently and everyone can pull different study sessions depending on many many things, so do not comprare yourself to others. Imo 10+ hour sessions sound like something out of a fantasy novel. I could never. I will go about this in no particular krder so sorry in advance if i am a bit confusing (and if i am too confusing do feel free to send me another ask and I'll try to be better).

Your ability to focus can depend on a lot of things, how you and your brain work, lots of neurodivergent folks like me have to work around that as well, what you are working on can impact on how well you focus and how many energies you burn while doing so, and let's be honest sometimes you have other things in your life that can drain your energies and then you have an harder time staying focused. This is all fine. You are not dumb, you are not wasting time, and you are not a failure if you take a longer time to do something or need more breaks.

Another thing I want to get out of the way right away because it is fundamental, is that your mental and physical health should always be an higher priority than school work. You need to pay attention to that. To how you talk to yourself, to how you treat yourself. If you are in a bad mental place you cannot work well, and nothing is more important than you being well. So do take the breaks and the days off, and not just when you are at your limit. You need to find a balance between studying and rest. There is no guilt in rest. You are fueling yourself to then be able to accomplish what you have to do. Okay? I am being very serious about this and I really really need you to keep it in mind always. No guilt in rest. It is not something you you need to earn either. It's something you need and deserve at all times.

Now to get more into your questions. I personally take A LOT of breaks when studying. I need to walk around a bit, I need to snack, I need to make tea (i drink a lot of tea lol). And breaks are great. There are different ways you can approach them and it depends a lot on how your brain works and how you work. If you are not sure i would suggest trying different things and see what works for you! It's super important to know your study method, how you work best, and how your brain works. You could try the pomodoro technique first, or just figure it out depending on your needs or what you are working on (for example taking a break at the end of chapters).

I am a creature of habit so my typical study day at home looks pretty much the same (tho it can vary depending on lots of things, includong the materials I work on). I am an early bird so most of my study happens in the morning. I like to wake up very early around 6.20 because there is nothing I love more than to have the time for a slow morning in which i drink my tea and read my book as I have breakfast (this is one of those very personal things that works for me but i am sure would be hell for many people. Do make sure you get enough sleep!!!). I tend to be at my desk by 8/8.15. In the morning depending on what ai have to work on I have one or two breaks. If i only take one break it's a bit longer and i stop studying earlier. If i take two breaks they are usually around 9.30 and one around 10.30. If i only take one it's around 10 but it's longer and as i said i stop studying earlier. I then have a very long lunch break from either 11.30 or 12 until 15 usually and then I usually study till 17. If I need to work more i do take at least one break in the afternoon as well. This is a typical day in which i focus only on study, if you have classes, work,life things it would be irrealistic. Even if you go somewhere outside your house to study that would be irrealistic. So you need to focus on what can work for you. Again sperimenting different things is the way to go!

Idk if there count as unpopular opinions on productivity but I'll list some of my opinions on the matter and you can decide for yourself:

Your productivity does not determine your value nor your success.

Pulling all nighters and working for 10 hours straight is unhealthy. You need rest. You need moments in which you focus on other things. Schedule time for your hobbies. Meet with friends. Eat foods that fuel your body and soul, it's a source of joy. Create an healthy schedule. It is fundamental. You should never ever deny your needs for studying, it's not worth it.

It's better to take one or two weeks more to finish something than to pull an all nighter or other unhealthy things i mentioned above.

There is no shame in taking your time to do things and there is no shame in taking your time to figure out what works for you study wise. When i started uni i took well over a year to figure out how i needed to study and it started working well after like two years and it's okay. Because i had to learn that by myself with trial and error and if i didn't do that i wouldn't be here now with the perfect study method for me personally.

Nothing will come out perfect on the first try. Do not let it discourge you. Have fun learning. Mistakes are good. They mean you tried and they are there to give you direction for the future. Do not let anyone tell youcthey should be a source of shame.

There's probably more stuff i could mention but my brain is fried after a long day so this is a good start. The last thing i want to tell you is an advice on how you could approach ypir new studyblr adventure. It is how I started using it and how I continue to use it, I am not saying it is the way to go but it has worked positively for me so I thought I'd share it. I started this side blog during the pandemic because I felt unmotivated by studying, I felt like I wasn't doing enough and had a lot of guilt about that. I decided to use this little corner of the internet as a journal, but most importantly as a daily reflection on my productivity. What I thought would be a goal to push myself harder ended up being just a place of reflection in which each day I realized how much I accomplished without realizing. Writin my little daily lists of thinga I have done isn't a way to push myself in the morning, it's a way to sit down at the end of the day and reflect on where my energies went that day and more often than not I am surprised at how much I did, when I thought I had a mediocre day. I really recommend taking time to reflect on your productivity this way. And I also encourage everybody to include self care acts in their productivity lists. Taking care of yourself is an act of productivity, so the fact that you took time to cook your favourite meal counta as productivity, taking a break to go for a walk or to listen to some music that gives you joy is productivity, because you are recharing yourself. Imagine yourself like a phone or any other tech object. If you let the battery die it takes so long to recharge completly. If you keep an eye on the battery, your battery, you can do things to recharge you before you shut down. You can't expect to always be at 100% but you should never push yourself below a certain percentage of battery.

I think i have rambled enough. If you feel like asking more questions or anything my inbox is always open, and I would be happy if you left me a message if you try any of these things or if you find your study balance. I am cheering for you. Good luck and i hope you'll have a good time in this little corner of the internet. I hope it can be a place where productivity and studying can be fun and exciting without pressure, because that's what it should be imo. Hopefully in this huge wall of text there is some sort of answer to your questions or something that might help. Take care of yourself anon and have a lovely day!

[storkmuffin]

Hello!

Only discovered your blog today and have read a few of your essays already - it's great to read a different take on K-pop, so thank you for everything you've written so far!

I just wanted to ask - I've noticed that ATEEZ seem to attract a large fanbase of LGBTQ+ fans and I wondered if you have any theories as to why that is aside from the general playing into BL as you've mentioned before.

But also, if you don't mind me asking, how do you switch off and enjoy the music, intergroup dynamics when you're also delving into analyses?

Thank you! I hope you have a great day!

Hi! Thanks for this note. I'm glad I've added something to your day. This is a very interesting ask!

Does analysis Interfere with enjoying the music

Analysis is play, to me, and not any more or less serious than zoning out to music, and I urge you to take the same approach. I think maybe the easiest way not to get too worked up is to not try to get to The Answer. Some big Throughline Thesis that Ties it All Together is likely to stress you out. This is supposed to be fun - Kpop is supposed to be fun. Pop culture analysis is also supposed to be fun. Try going with Maybe it's this...? or Isn't it fun to consider...? instead of What Is the Truth? You're free to write your thoughts out (the way I do) like you will brook no disagreement, but I am always aware that I'm playing. I'm playing in my mind with different filters, lenses and frames over deliberately crafted and edited content. It's a way to play.

Theories on Why LGBTQ+ Fans Like Kpop

There are probably as many theories for why Kpop in the West has such a strong LGBTQ+ base as there are straight Korean people, but I'm happy to share a summary of what I recall from reading about kpop in books by actual scholars and industry experts.

First, Kpop is still largely in Korean, and the music includes overt references to Korean ethnic and traditional music. Much of the side content requires reading subtitles, which Hollywood thinks no western people ever want to do. So, one theory holds that people who are not in the straight-mainstream of their own cultures might be more open to exploring other non mainstream interests. Once they decide to walk in the door, Kpop is pretty confident that what they have on offer will be enticing.

Second is the legacy of the choices that the all important BTS made, which I only know vaguely about, but I have understood that they went with supporting rights for all, with a focus on oppressed minorities of whatever location, which in most places very much includes LGBTQ people. So, in a rough mean world that wants to hurt you for existing, it makes sense that those audiences would gravitate towards a genre that (hopefully) isn't going to be an asshole to them.

Third is the fact that the whole boy-bands-doing-bl type thing is an off-shoot of the double triple levels of repression and self denial that Confucian and other Asian cultural values imposed on East Asian women, making expressions of frank sexual desire kind of impossible. Women can't identify with a woman being wooed on stage by her sex symbol, in short. The men have to flirt with each other, but it's actually a straight thing to do (I did say double triple levels, and explaining it all would just sound surreal in English). The coating of several layers of heavy context in high context societies just doesn't port over, and Western audiences read this as simply being gay. And what's curious is that while there is almost no visible gayness in everyday Korean culture, there's a LOT of visible gayness In Korean popular music, whereas the reverse is true elsewhere.

Fourth is that we are a very homosocial society, are Koreans. The concept of nonsexual, same-sex friendships that are superintense, extremely important to both members, incorporates physical touch or closeness AND IT'S NOT ROMANTIC OR SEXUAL seems to have completely disappeared in the West. I think that's a loss, for you guys. So what Korean society has no reason to think is anything other than close friendship looks like gay coding of a very blatant type to Western people.

Fifth, and this isn't in order of priority or anything by the way, sometimes Kpop artists themselves want to play with gender and sex and sexuality. They're allowed that freedom because they're Idols. They're allowed to plaster themselves in hyper expensive designer gear. They're allowed to be weird. So for the experimentation that they do, I'm sure there are significant LGBTQ+ Koreans who adore Seonghwa for his gender bending fashion choices and love all the content where the boyband members dress up in girl hanbok and play at femininity for the same reason queer audiences abroad love that content.

Sixth, and this is halfway a joke and half not, Kpop is constantly, desperately, arduously trying to find ways to be cool and innovative and charming and exciting. They are trying SO HARD, and I would say they quite often succeed. LGBTQ+ people just have good taste, is all.

I hope some of these got you on the path of investigating your own theories.