#and callie will become part of the wilderness in a way

[roxyoulikeahurricane]

If jeff read her diary and always knew about the baby then that makes me really side-eye him tbh, since Shauna felt pressured by him to have Callie even though she never wanted to go through the trauma of birth again and if he knew that but pressured her anyway.. what the fuck Jeff? I can forgive murder and cannibalism but somehow that feels more malicious idk lmao (was gonna respond directly to your post but I'm too shy lol but wanted to agree and add)

no I absolutely agree

the murder and cannibalism, despite how intense and by choice it becomes, is still in the name of survival. if they never turn to cannibalism and they only ever wait for death, then none of them would survive because they wouldn't all be strong enough to actually make the food if they only ever waited without action (they get compared to the andes crash a few times by outsiders but the truth is that was 2 months and those that died were destined to die or put out of misery and is a totally different problem than 19 months where everyone who survives is otherwise perfectly fine and healthy aside from ben missing a leg)

jeff having read shauna's journals is like...first of all red flag obviously, but he still only knows the outside perspective. he wasn't there, he will never understand, and i don't think shauna wrote in detail how much of the survival was by choice or even about the wilderness because when callie and jeff talk about what's wrong with shauna, jeff skips directly to "well she lost a baby" and clearly really doesn't understand just how much she went through despite having read the journals. jeff as a character is like....okay to me mostly just because he is...kind of becoming an exemplar of society the same way jackie was before she died. he thinks that yes his wife has ptsd and clearly has unresolved problems and trauma, but up until the cops show him pictures of adam's body, he very obviously still just thinks shauna is....for lack of a better word normal. and he thinks it's normal to have a family and want a family and shauna was never any good at sticking to her own wants unless she's alone. jeff is very rapidly being forced to reconcile his image of shauna (and in turn callie and their entire family and life up to now) because he doesn't know shauna at all. and before now, he didn't even think that was a possibility

i honestly think he genuinely just thought shauna was Totally Fine aside from like...maybe she gets sad and has nightmares and doesn't talk a lot before the affair, before adam's death & cover-up, before the cops, before callie got involved. i'm not on his side at all and in fact think he's either going to die (with the current direction it will probably be some stupid thing that he dies to protect or save shauna but i however think it would be him somehow someway getting sacrificed eventually and only then will he truly see shauna for who and what she is and understand just how much of a lie he fell for and for shauna it would be consuming the last part of jackie she still has) or at the most he & shauna will divorce by the end and probably become very estranged and otherwise he'd fade into obscurity to her as just another piece of jackie she's lost

i think jeff truly believes in this image of normalcy and overlooks the symptoms and signs shauna shows because he wants the normalcy to be the truth and to be real. he sees the normalcy that jackie represented in the wilderness and died trying to standby and uphold and not the wilderness that took her place and consumed shauna in those 19 months, and jeff probably thinks that's what shauna wants; to be normal and pretend it wasn't that bad ever. which is what she wants when she marries him, even if subconsciously she's still just clinging to jackie through him. i think jeff wanted callie because he wanted a kid and thought in maybe some fucked up way that shauna having another kid who was statistically way more likely not to die would "fix" the broken parts, and shauna gave in and had the kid because she genuinely wanted him to be right but even when callie survives it doesn't work because it was never going to work

[lingeringscars]

Thinking about shauna & callie. Shauna who did not want a child in the first place but grew so attached to wilderness baby and the dream attachment. Shauna who apologized for not wanting him and how he could maybe feel that and a part of her still being with that baby against the world. Having callie, in a way, feeling like a betrayal to wilderness baby.

She didn't want to go through that again, was terrified to get close to callie and never totally sure what was and was not real. She kept callie at a distance, but she also reacted to callie pushing her away as well (or how she perceived this relationship). She looks back on a young callie fondly because it was "back when she was cute" but she never thought callie wanted HER. She loved the bear more than her. It's never a consideration that callie might have been attached because she gave her it.

She uses gifts callie made them haphazardly. She isn't attached to the objects any more than she allowed herself to become attached to callie, and in fact less so because they are just possessions to her. Who cares if she hands this over to the blackmailer. It's just a bag.

She's trapped in the past and in sentimentality (rabbits are everywhere. She visits Jackie's parents every year. She's especially grouchy on the first snow day. It's also extremely unlikely that she let callie play in the snow growing up), yet she convinces herself that they are just objects with no meaning. Because she cares so much it could tear her apart, so she shuts it all down instead.

Callie likes Jeff more than her. Callie likes her stuffed animal more than her. Callie likes her friends and her friends parents more than her. Why should she even bother?

But she cares. She cares so much. She wants to have a conversation with her, but she doesn't know how. She wants to talk to her, but she can't, and she can't explain why she can't. She tells her to go out the back so kevyn doesn't see her to take away from the fact that she genuinely wants to have a conversation with Callie, but it's too late. There have been too many of these missteps over her life, and she doesn't think Callie wants anything to do with her, so she's given up. She invites her to the mall both because she feels guilty about Adam and because she's genuinely trying, she's just so bad at it.

[festeringfae]

The dual settings of Yellowjackets really highlight for me how even well-written media centered on depicting women as complex, multifaceted people struggle with imagining or depicting scenarios where women's emotional struggles are not based on their relationship to men.

In the comic that inspired the Bechdel-Wallace test, Wallace's expy specifies that the last movie she was able to see was Aliens. That means, the last circumstance she knows of where a movie believed it was plausible that two named women would talk about something other than a man is a situation as dire-- and unrelatable-- as being attacked by an intergalactic space monster. In Yellowjackets, it takes an all-girls team, a plane crash, AND a supernatural threat to provide enough justification to imagine interpersonal dynamics between girls that don't solely revolve around boys.

And even then, when the girls become women in the "normal" world of 2021, the show seems unable to think of ways to move the narrative forward or progress the women's characterization without disproportionate focus on their relationships with men.

Obviously, many women have multiple, very important relationships with men in their lives. I have no issue with depicting that, and Yellowjackets depicts it in more honest and dynamic ways than most other media. That's why I'm using it to make my point: even with the best, this still happens. And even as someone annoyed by it, it still takes me one episode into season 2 to even notice it.

At the beginning of season 1, the first time we meet Natalie, she reveals that she thinks the motivation behind her self-destructive tendencies is that when she left the wilderness, she "lost her purpose," and implies that she thinks she's found it again. Based on the context we're given, we can perhaps assume this purpose is to hunt down whoever sent her the threatening postcard. Which, yes, she does focus on doing for the rest of the season-- but that purpose becomes convoluted very quickly with her mourning & needing to know what happened to Travis. That's a real, frequently occurring dynamic outside of fiction, and it really is related to the overall plot, so I don't mind it much. I mind goth freak Kevin Tan is conveniently a cop, but not much more, and like some parts of it for similar reasons related to exploring the complex messiness of grief. I mention these instances primarily because of their small piece of an overall pattern.

A pattern maybe best exemplified with Shauna. Now, Shauna's narrative subverts and inverts a lot of sexist tropes, and I give credit to it for that. A teen boy is given next to no personality because he exists only as a catalyst to analyze the relationship between a friendship between two girls. A manic pixie boy is fridged by Shauna for her womanpain and to progress her narrative. Her husband actually loves her despite her moral depravity. I love all that!

But when I look at the Adam arc from the perspective of someone who doesn't know what greater purpose it might serve in the narrative beyond S2E1, it's inclusion and construction really makes me marvel at how easily we, as audience members, are limited in imaging women having relationships outside of men. Because while yes, Jeff dealing with loan sharks is played for laughs, and realism is not an innate virtue in entertainment (especially in fantasy/horror)...if it turns out the only function of Adam's existence was to have Shauna accidentally murder someone/create further distance between her and Callie, would it not make more sense for that character to be...literally anyone besides a guy weirdly unfazed by being rear-ended, who inexplicably has no interest in promoting the art he rents an entire studio to regularly create, and who also doesn't come up on Google as a staff member at an autoshop for some reason?

I'm not trying to rewrite the show, but go with me for a minute here: why was I, as an audience member, willing to suspend my disbelief for all of that at the end of last season, even as I raised an eyebrow at it seeming a bit unnecessarily convoluted? Why did the writers imagination go to money troubles= mob= misunderstanding= deus ex machina boyfriend = callie strain + stabbing the wrong person, before it went to money troubles= moving back in with in-laws= callie strain + stabbing the wrong person?

Again, I'm not trying to rewrite the show, and I think the psychosexual element of young Shauna/Jeff/Jackie completely justifies the narrative wanting to give her an affair outside of that dynamic to explore. My point of contention is mostly with myself, and a larger pattern in media. How many shows and movies would sooner introduce loan sharks & manic pixie deus ex machinas before it considered a subplot entirely focused on the dynamic between a mother or mother-and-law and a 40-something daughter or daughter in-law, and how it impacts their respective relationships with a teenage [grand]daughter? Why did "thinking the judgmental, overbearing old lady whose house you live in might have stolen your journals & snitched to the cops, but turns out she didn't so you killed her for nothing & yr husband and daughter are gonna find out" not occur to me as an alternative possibility for the length of the entire season break?

Moreover, why is every conflict within Taissa and Simone's marriage centered around Sammy, with little to no commentary about their relationship outside of motherhood and the campaign? I don't think Sammy's gender is relevant here-- but Simone's is. While I don't believe it makes sense the show to give Simone POV scenes (although, credit where due, it does in the S1 finale), none of her scenes with Taissa characterize her outside of her roles as The Good Wife or The Good Mother. The most Taissa has to say about Simone in a confessional manner to Shauna is that she lacks the It Factor of Van-- characterization as vague as it is disposable. There's no divorcing this dynamic with Simone from the show's anti-Black colorism (the only other deep-skinned Black woman or girl we've seen is a JV whose name I can't recall and who I didn't see in the cabin during S2E1). It must be acknowledge that when media asks, "who can be the Black Best Friend to a Black Girl?", the answer a lot of media comes up with is "an even darker girl" (see also: JV and young Taissa). That being said, I think this dynamic exists in tandem with Simone and Taissa being More Than Friends. Since Simone can't know about the details of the plane crash or the supernatural elements going on, the writers would have to actually consider what two adult Black women who don't appear to have any men in their professional or personal lives talk about. The only answers we are given is: child, and a campaign that, by definition, has only been going on for much less time than their relationship. What else exists between them? We don't know, and my point is, it's horrifying how infrequently it seems to occur to people to ask. We know Jeff sells sofas and likes Sports Center. We don't even know what kind of apology present Simone would like, because it doesn't even occur to either Taissa or the writers to bring her one along with Sammy's.

Finally, Misty. If you've read this far, 1) thank you, holy crap, and 2) you might be thinking "what about Misty! Adult Misty's narrative isn't tied to any man!" And you're right, no matter what ends up happening with Elijah Wood's character down the line (although I will admit to a bit of anticipatory side-eyeing.) I have no issue so far with the Young Misty and Coach Ben stuff in terms of her focusing on him, and I'm not sure if Adult Misty ever says more than 2 lines to a man in season 1. But frankly, while I don't think this specific show should play this specific character any differently, there IS a broad pattern, I think, of shows looking at an adult, single woman with no kids, and deciding that her plotline therefore must be that she's ✨Crazy✨ in a quirky, endearing way that is as intentionally ironic as it is legitimately frightening. There is a vague backstory to provide even vaguer explanation for Why She's Like This, but never anything concrete or broad enough where you could picture years of therapy having any kind of effect. She's the Manic Pixie Dream Girl (Dark Reprise).

Again, I'm saying none of this to shit on Yellowjackets, or even ask them to change anything (except the colorist misogynoir: That's Gotta Go.) What I'm wondering is, if it takes a show as good at portraying women and girls as Yellowjackets is to get me to even CONSIDER such basic possibilities-- what would TV and film look like if less fantasy-based projects also considered exploring the POV of women over age 30, who talk to other women over age 30, about their relationship with each other?

[teabookgremlin]

well pals here we are, the final eat her ear friday of yellowjackets season 2. this post is gonna be a little different than my usual recaps as i’ll focus on more just kinda discussing what i liked, what i didn’t like, what i think might happen next, instead of the more stream of conscious style deal i usually do and it’ll be organized as all teen timeline thoughts followed by all adult timeline thoughts. anyway i have loved yellowjackets blogging with you all this season and cannot wait to continue being insane about this show with all the cool people on this webbed site. spoilers below cut

teen timeline episode thoughts:

- i gotta say teen timeline was top tier this week. i loved every second of the wilderness time from the second it begun. 

-just everything about how javi was handled was great, seeing travis’s grief at the start, how shauna butchered javi, van and travis’s talk, travis taking a bite out of javi’s heart, it all just went hard. i wonder if the bite of the raw heart will become a part of the hunt ritual. like the person closest to the hunted or perhaps the person who killed them bites into the heart before cooking it bc i’d fuck with that

- fucking coach man. he really should’ve died this season. he is the only man on this show i truly like but they had to ruin that by just drawing out his life. seriously what was the point of all his paul stuff and his suicide attempt and his clear hopelessness if he wasn’t gonna die. i do think that the girls are gonna hunt him down in s3, like they’ll track him to the cave and kill and eat him then take the cave as their’s. fingers crossed. sorry coach my guy i liked you but you need to die eventually. also fucker burnt down the cabin. what the fuck dude i know you think the girls are monsters but like you’re gonna try to kill them all for it?

- NAT ANTLER QUEEN ok i fucking loved this. lottie no longer being able to hear the wilderness. her passing on the role she never even wanted. nat always having been it’s favorite. nat’s horror turning into joy/acceptance. all the ways the girls pledged their loyalty to her. loved loved loved it cannot wait to see where it goes from here. 

next up adult timeline episode thoughts:

- first of all too much of the men. like seriously walter swooping in and saving the day with his plan to frame kevyn for all the adam shit was just so meh. it would’ve been so much better if walter hadn’t been introduced and misty had been the one to pull that kinda shit. also pissed that creep cop lives to see another day get in losers we’re climbing through our computers to kill creep cop ourselves.

- i did really enjoy the recreating of the ritual scene, i thought it was very nicely done and shauna drawing the queen is not what i expected and i did like callie coming in to save her. also how during the ritual there were flashes to their teen selves i ate that shit up.

- ok now the main thing is obviously nat. her death was definitely frustrating. i think it could’ve worked had it happened later in the series or if it had been better set up just how it happened really fell flat. it does definitely seem like juliette wanted out so the writers had to change their plans. just nat’s story does not feel entirely complete and how it all works out from here really depends on how they play things going forward. i do think that there is a way for this to work plot wise i am just definitely concerned.

- so interested by our girl van. how she kinda lights up when lottie says that it worked. i think either van is cured or thinks she is and that that is gonna bring her back to her faith in the wilderness despite how she clearly wanted to leave it behind. so so so excited to see where her story goes especially alongside tai and lottie, there is just so much potential here and i hope they don’t fuck it up.

- finally it really felt like they were trying to hard to make a nice neat tidy ending for the adult timeline. like they wanted to wrap up as many plot points as possible which really doesn’t make sense given the amount of show that is supposedly planned. i’m definitely concerned that they’re gonna introduce some weird out of no where plot lines in the adult timeline to refill the empty space left by what was wrapped up here.

[smalltownoutcasts]

Closed starter for @scatcrccio.

EVER SINCE THE NIGHT IN THE WOODS and witnessing just a tiny taste of what Shauna had went through after the plane crash, something inside the teenage girl had felt...off. It was as if a part of herself had been left in the forest that night, and she couldn't quite put her finger on it. Maybe it had been where she had fired Shauna's gun striking Lottie or witnessing Misty almost kill the one person Callie had become familiar with after their run in at the bar. Whatever it was, it had failed to leave her alone.

It had been weeks, at least a month or longer. But waking up in a cold sweat for most nights had started to leave Callie exhausted to the point that everything seemed to be running together. But one thing had been certain, her cravings for meat had oddly increased. All the former beliefs she had held didn't seem to matter. A once moody teen concerned about the environment and who was dating who seemed to only care for satiating the strange needs her body longed for. Even Callie knew this wasn't "normal" teen behavior, but she had felt so alone in her confusion and like before, had started to pull away from Shauna and Jeff once more.

Eyes popping open in the dead of night, the sixteen year old couldn't take it anymore. Chest heaving up and down and eyes a darker color than the striking blue ones her parents had given her, Callie climbed out of the bed dressed only in a vintage Backstreet Boys concert t-shirt and a pair of shorts. Finding her way downstairs to the kitchen in a haze, she walked out the back door feet bare and the cool night air sending unnoticed chills down her small figure.

Callie had been walking miles, feet bloody and raw, before she had found herself staring blankly at a homeless man sitting near a fire. The only thing noticeable about her shadow had been the gleam of one of Shauna's knives from the butcher block that sat on the kitchen counter.

"Who's there?" His voice was gruff as he peered out into the night trying to make out who was slowly approaching him.

Hollow eyes and no emotion whatsoever, Callie approached him stepping over rocks and broken glass to get to him.

"The wilderness thanks you for your contribution." Her voice was monotone.

"What? What the fuck are you on, little girl? You better turn around and go back to where you came from. Or you waitin' for the big bad wolf to get you..." A sneer came across his cracked lips, yellow and rotted teeth showing.

Now standing and towering over her, he moved in closer, but before he could try anything, Callie lunged hard and fast stabbing him in the neck repeatedly watching him hit the ground like a tree in the middle of a dense forest. No one else around, but nature.

Resting on top of him, the possessed girl continually stabbed and carved until he was unrecognizable letting out a primal scream when she was finally satisfied with her kill. Covered in blood, Callie dropped the knife, before waking up to find what she had done.

------------

She had recognized the area just enough to find her way to an unexpected doorstep...Natalie's. Covering up murders had definitely been her mom's thing, but considering Callie was pretty sure she had just made a mess of her own with a man she had prayed she had never crossed paths with in her life, she didn't know who else to turn to. What was living inside her? What had the woods unleashed that night?

Banging on the door as hard as she could, a mixture of his blood and her blood marking the white paint, tears moved steadily down her flushed, crimson stained face. Open the door! Please, please, please, please... She couldn't breathe and it felt like the world was closing in on her. Sunrise was just a few hours away, and Callie was on the verge of a breakdown.

[dirhwangdaseul-archived]

shauna is so so so beautiful to me right now........ i wish she could find her own world, i wish they all could call things theirs, something truly theirs that didn't feel like it was laid on a mound of corpses, it's not nourishing, it's sinking them....

mine, like van to tai even broken and apart, mine, like travis and nat could never call the void inside, mine, the way lottie that can't call even her head her own, mine, like tai wishes she could own her entire self without giving pieces to other people without her fucking consent, mine, like lottie wishes to call her desire for connection even with a mind that has kept parts of her caged for the benefit of others, mine, like shauna keeps wishing for her and jackie and a life she can't imagine but that she could've called hers and theirs, mine, like shauna and callie even as she doesn't know how to be because maybe thinking her of as her own would doom her for being part of her doomed already in the wilderness, mine, like tai keeps wishing for her wife and her kid forgetting they too have a say in how she breaks their lives, mine, like they all keep being robbed of everything as the cold makes them forget any memory of warmth, as they become the cruelty of their isolation, as they become other's....

[traumahqs]

Working at one of the nation’s leading teaching hospitals means there are certain extra requirements expected of the staff, one of these being helping out other hospitals from time to time. It’s usually a simple affair, as simple as surgery can be. Arrive, do the surgery, get back on a flight to Seattle. Unless of course they never make it there. Unless their plane crashes. Stranded somewhere in the wilderness that surrounds Spokane and all of the passengers injured in some way, there’s only so much the doctors can do. They have to wait. WAIT. Somebody will realise that they’re not in Boise, they’ll phone the hospital and the search will begin. They’ll be safe, they just have to wait. And maybe that would be the case if, meanwhile in Seattle, the hospital wasn’t indidated with patients. An office building in West Seattle collapsed twenty minutes before the plane went down, the ER is packed and ORs in a constant rotation between injured employees and firefighters. With almost the entire staff on call and too distracted to pick up phones or question where their colleagues might be, the waiting might be longer than they first anticipated.

When the chaos of the emergency has calmed down, only then is it clear that no plane from Seattle ever landed in Boise. The legal team are thrown into a FRENZY, the Chief of Staff and the Chief of Surgery must explain to the board what exactly has happened, how they could let it go unnoticed for so long, and - most importantly - what they’re doing to find the MISSING SURGEONS. It’s been close to twenty-four hours, they’ll need to act fast if they have a hope of their colleagues coming back alive.

OOC INFO: It’s finally here! After weeks of planning, we are happy (or maybe not so happy?) to announce that the plane crash will be taking place Monday 14th of December (4PM EST)  - Sunday 20th of December (4PM EST). This event will be split into two parts, with Monday to Thursday seeing the plane crash victims stranded and injured while those remaining at Seattle Grace Mercy West deal with the buildings collapse and moving along to the aftermath of the crash when the survivors have been found Friday through to Sunday. Plotting may now officially begin, the admins have created a discord for the muns who will be involved with the crash - you will be receiving your invite shortly! Underneath the cut you’ll find not only injuries from the crash, but also how your muse at the hospital has been delegated. If your character is not on the list you may still participate in the event, they just haven’t been delegated to a surgery and may be in the pit or with routine patients!

Cormac Hayes has woken up on the forest floor, he can’t remember how he got there. And he might be more concerned about that fact if not for the agonising pain that shoots through his hand every time he tried to move it. It doesn’t feel like a sprain or a broken bone, it feels like nerve damage.

When Elena Sloan finally came to, she didn’t immediately realise what was wrong with her, or why she could no longer feel her arm. It was only when she turned her head to inspect it that she realised that she’d passed out from the pain of being crushed underneath a part of the plane’s wing.

It might seem as though Derek Shepherd has gotten off lightly. Some scratches, minor burns and he’s guessing that he has a mild concussion from the pounding in his head. What he doesn’t realise yet, with the adrenaline coursing through his veins, is that he’s exhibiting early signs of PTSD.

AJ Murphy finds himself in a pretty similar boat, the only external injuries being scratches and burns. However, considering he’s floating in and out of consciousness his concussion might be more severe than Shepherd’s.

Mia Porter has been staring at her leg since the moment she regained consciousness. More accurately she’s staring at the femur that has broken and punctured through the skin. She has an open fracture and is sitting on a dirty forest floor, there’s only so much time before infection becomes an issue.

Outwardly, there seems to be very little wrong with Ximena Avery, and perhaps the dizziness or sudden headache can all be attributed to the stress of the crash. However, the numbness on the left side of her body? The growing pain in her abdomen? It seems likely to be an internal injury.

The crash has left Cat Blake with a large cut on her arm which might not be so concerning, especially considering the more severe injuries surrounding her, if it wasn’t for the debris that had gathered in the wound while she was unconscious.

When she’d first regained consciousness and realised that the plane crashing hadn’t been a vivid nightmare, Leah Murphy did a quick assessment of herself. She’d thought she was fine all things considered, until she’d tried to stand and her broken fibula had caused her knees to buckle and her body to crash to the ground again.

Waking up initially still trapped inside the plane had been enough to distract Nico Kim from the searing pain on the right side of his body, but once he was safely out of the aircraft the agony of his broken ribs and fractured ulna had taken full effect.

Patient One: Twelve year old with an open femur fracture and ruptured spleen

Callie Torres

Jo Wilson

Gwen Sadler

Alex Karev

Liam Kerrigan

Miranda Bailey

Patient Two: Traumatic head injury from fall causing brain bleed

Luke Desler

Lexie Grey

Nia Goldmann

Meredith Grey

Bronte Holland

Sam Bello

Patient Three: Twenty-six weeks pregnant with third degree burns and a fractured fibula

Mark Sloan

Nancy Shepherd

Atticus Lincoln

Josh Goldmann

Emilia Anglin

Nathan Price

Patient Four: Punctured lung caused by broken ribs, with second degree burns

Teddy Altman

Jackson Avery

Stephanie Edwards

Andrea Martinez

Brooke Walker

Liana Nelson

Patient Five: Firefighter with large open wound to the abdomen, contaminated with metal debris

Jamie Martinez

Steven Michaels

Blair Keating

Alyiah Thompson

Levi Schmitt

Andrew Deluca

Triage

Daniel Scott-Shepherd

April Kepner

Joanna Mills

Justin Walker

Alayna Thompson

Laurel Davis

Wyatt Sharma

[nightingiall]

head in the clouds: part vi

{story page} // {wattpad} // {characters}

It’s day three of a heat wave that has settled over the area and Rory is over it. 

If she has to spend five more minutes sitting on her lifeguard chair then she thinks she’ll actually pass out. The umbrella is doing a fine job of keeping her sheltered from the sun, but it traps heat underneath, making her feel like she’s in the middle of a fireball. 

And it’s not just her. Every time they have to rotate positions, Rory catches the rest of the lifeguards struggling with the heat as well. Zafar and Shane have gotten rid of their shirts, pouring water from their bottles onto their skin. Callie and Alejandra go as far as getting into the pool with the excuse of fixing the dividers. Niall, behind her in the rotation yet again and who also has his shirt off, gets himself some ice from the bar, sharing some with Rory, and she’s eternally grateful for him. 

She’s noticed that he does that a lot, looks out for her, even when she isn’t paying attention. He’s always asking if she’s alright, always offering water or a snack. Alejandra, who has been in front of her in the rotation for the past few days, is the one to bring to her attention the fact that he even pays extra attention to her side of the pool whenever she gets too lost in her sketchbook. 

That part makes her feel a bit guilty.

So she forgoes the sketchbook for today, which she’s slightly regretting now because she has nothing to take her mind off the unbearable heat. She’s also a bit irritated because the children are acting wilder than usual, even though it’s way too hot to be frolicking around like they do, and she’s lost count of the amount of times she blows on her whistle and shouts “Walk, don’t run!” 

It doesn’t help that their day is as uneventful as it usually is. They sound their whistles and yell warnings occasionally but apart from that, nothing really happens. Which is why when closing time finally comes around and it’s time to usher everyone out of the pool, Rory is so happy that she nearly falls right off her lifeguard chair in her attempt to get off of it. 

“Thank god this is over,” Shane declares loudly, groaning as he steps off his chair. With his blonde hair and dark eyes, he looks like a golden retriever panting for breath. “First the tropical storm, now this? Can’t we just have a nice, warm summer day for once.”

From the other side of the pool, Zafar and Callie make sounds of agreement. “Hey,” Zafar calls out, eyes glinting mischievously. “How ‘bout a post-shift dip?” 

They all cheer at that. “Don’t mind if I do!” exclaims Alejandra, and before anyone can blink, she’s already cannonballing into the pool. They laugh and whoop as water splashes over them, one-by-one jumping in. On a regular day, they would never do this. Truthfully, they’re not really allowed to. But all of the managers are away for the weekend for some hospitality conference and the trustees are having a dinner somewhere away from the resort so there’s no one around to tell them otherwise. 

The water feels phenomenal on Rory’s skin, the coolness of it immensely refreshing after a day spent baking in the sun. She does a few lazy laps back and forth before contenting herself with simply floating across the surface. By the time she gets back to the other side, the others are all huddled in a loose circle, lost in a slightly heated conversation. 

“Okay but look at these biceps,” Shane gloats, flexing to give them all a visual. “How can you resist these?”

“Looks aren’t everything, mate,” Niall says sagely from where he’s lounging at the shallow end, arms resting on the ledge, and Rory tries not to stare at his biceps. He’s developed a gorgeous tan over the course of the summer, skin evenly golden, and she thinks it’s perhaps the best thing she’s ever seen. After all, it pairs perfectly with the brightness of his signature grin. 

“Thank you!” Alejandra huffs, throwing her hands up in the air, glad that someone of the opposite gender finally agrees with her. Then, to Shane, she says, “This whining is exactly why I won’t go out with you.” 

At that, Rory laughs, finally understanding the conversation. Shane has been trying to get Alejandra to go out with him for the past few years only to get constantly rejected. She has to give it to him though, he is persistent. Besides, he’s not creepy and Alejandra seems to enjoy the attention sometimes. It’s all become a running joke.

“And anyway,” pipes up Callie from where she’s lazily pushing herself off the wall, “Zafar has the best biceps. Not you.” There’s a roar of laughter at that and Shane splashes Callie in response, leading to all of them disjointedly swimming around to avoid being doused. 

They simmer down as quickly as they begin, mindful of not drawing too much attention to themselves lest they somehow get in trouble, even though the chances of that are slim. Their giggles, nonetheless, still bounce off the water as Shane, Callie, and Zafar continue to egg each other on. 

“To be honest,” Zafar announces, leaning back against the ledge and sending them all a cocky smile. “I do have the best features here. Best biceps, best abs, best face, best jawline...” 

They guffaw again, splashing him now. “To be fair,” Niall gets out through the chaos, one hand up to shield himself from stray droplets. “Rory’s the one with the best jawline.” He’s grinning at her again, eyes sparkling, and she feels like she may possibly melt, this time not because of the sun. “I mean, look at it. It’s like it can cut steel.” 

She hopes no one points out the way she’s blushing, hopes that it can pass for sunburn or something. Still, she turns her face slightly to hide it, jutting out her chin to show off her jawline and grinning wildly when Callie, Shane, and Alejandra agree with Niall, much to Zafar’s chagrin. “Yeah and no offense Zafar,” she starts, slinking deeper into the water because she senses another round of splashing coming up soon. “But Alejandra is the one with the killer abs here.” 

Just as she suspected, they start with the messiness again, and this time Shane attempts to dunk Zafar, resulting in a resounding proclamation of “No dunking!” from all of them. Then they laugh again because lifeguard habits are tough ones to break. 

They calm down eventually, enjoying the last bits of light as the sun begins its slow descent, bathing them all in the rich tones of golden hour. Rory’s trailing around aimlessly until she spots Niall at the far end of the pool, taken by the way the light seems to complement him so well as he drifts around, seemingly lost in thought, and she finds herself swimming over to him. 

“Boo!” She jumps on his back and he immediately catches her, losing balance only slightly, hands grabbing at the back of her knees when her legs float up beside him. He grunts before he catches his footing again, yelping about his sunnies which have fallen into the water in the midst of their tousle. Rory laughs and quickly fishes them out before they sink, resting them on his wet hair where they were before. “Jawline of steel, huh?” she remarks, giggling against his shoulder. 

He huffs out a laugh too, starting to glide along the curve of the pool. “Yeah, they’re cutting into my shoulder right now.” His voice is dry and sarcastic but Rory knows he’s smiling. “You going to the party tonight?” 

She hops off his back so she can drift beside him, thinking of how it’ll be so hard to get out of this pool and back into the stifling summer heat. “What party?” She thinks she’s gone to enough parties over the course of the summer. Also, they should all probably start to lay off the alcohol. Their bodies would thank them later. 

Niall’s eyes catch the light reflecting off the water in the pool and all she can think about then is how much brighter they are than the clear sky above them. “Greg and Will’s party.” 

Rory huffs to herself at the names, recognizing them as Jasper’s friends who were huddled next to him that day of the storm. The last thing she wants to do is go to their party. She doesn’t mention this to Niall, though, even if he would understand since she’s already shared that part of her life with him. Instead, she says, “I dunno. I’ll think about it.” 

He grins at her then, sliding his sunnies back onto his face even though what’s left of daylight will be gone soon. “Well, if you decide to go, I hope to catch ya there.” 

They end up next to the others again, all of them agreeing that they should get going since it would be dark soon. Still, they all take their time, in no rush whatsoever, lazily drifting to the edges before begrudgingly pulling themselves out. The air isn’t as stuffy as it was earlier, largely because the sun has now gone down, but it’s still extremely warm. 

They grab their things from their lifeguard chairs before heading over to the locker rooms, the girls waving goodbye to the boys when they split at the diverging path that separates the two. Callie doesn’t bother getting changed, instead heading off to her place which isn’t too far from there, so Rory and Alejandra head inside together. 

They both attempt to dry off as much as they can before they head into separate stalls to change. “So,” Alejandra starts when they’re done, dabbing a microfiber towel against her hair, “You and Niall Horan, eh?”

“Shut up.” Rory rolls her eyes, laughing because it seems as though this is becoming a running gag of the summer, everyone pointing out the obvious chemistry between her and Niall. “Am I really making it that obvious?”

Alejandra simply shrugs, a sly grin growing along her face. “Well maybe not to everyone else. But I’ve known you long enough to recognize that look on your face.” There’s a flurry of activity just outside the locker room for a moment, both of them pausing to make sure no one is about to walk in and brushing it off when it turns out to be nothing. “Also, you spent the first half of the summer just using his last name and now you call him Niall which basically means you love him.” 

“Oh my god,” Rory huffs, throwing her wet towel at her, which only makes Alejandra laugh. “You’re worse than Gigi.”

Alejandra tosses the towel back at her, busying herself with packing up her wet clothing and closing up her locker. “Well, I just hope the two of you are on the same page. Don’t want anyone else making a move on your man.” 

Rory shrugs that off, both of them grabbing their things and heading out. But as they walk down the path that will lead them to the Residences, she can’t help but let Alejandra’s comment take root in her mind and think that perhaps she has a point. 

***

Time has the uncanny ability of speeding up when the fun is just beginning. 

It’s all Rory can think about now. How little time they have left. How in just a few weeks, she’ll be spending her last day ever at Hightstown, as a seasonal employee at least, with new prospects looming on the horizon. 

There are 21 days left of summer and maybe she should tell Niall how she feels.

***

Rory ends up going to the party. 

Even Gigi is so surprised when she sees her dressed and ready to go that she does a double take. It’s not that it’s out of character for Rory to go to a party—after all, the entirety of how this summer was spent goes completely against that notion—it’s just that she’s not one to mingle with people she’d rather throw things at. But Rory figures that enough people will be at this party for her to not have to interact with Greg and Will. It is being held at the Shacks, after all, and she tells Gigi as much when she’s interrogated by her about it. 

Sure enough, when they get there, the place—one of the flashiest ones on the grounds since the hosts have money up to their eyeballs—is brimming with people. Employees usually refrain from having parties of this size because of the potential for noise complaints and getting in trouble since they’re technically not allowed to throw their own big gatherings. But the rich ones always get away with it. There have been times when she spotted the occasional faculty at one of these Shack parties. 

“Roryyyy!” Harry spots her immediately as she walks through the door, having left Gigi outside to catch up with her Shack boy toy. He slips through a few people to get to her, bumping a few shoulders along the way, and he appears to already be tipsy. “Wasn’t expecting you here.” He throws an arm around her shoulder and leads her to where the drinks are, awkwardly knocking into people on the way because the house is packed with sweaty, drunk bodies. She tries to scan the room as best she can, but it’s too crowded to tell if the person she came for is even here. 

It’s been all of two minutes since she’s arrived and her hands are already clammy, skin tight with anticipation, that she has to shake her head at herself over how silly she’s being. Harry seems oblivious to her inner turmoil, though, sliding her a shot of something very alcoholic. They bump their plastic shot cups together and quickly down the smooth, clear liquid, grimacing slightly as it burns down their throats. 

She looks over at Harry to ask what the drink even is, only to find his face scrunched up hilariously. “That was actually disgusting,” he groans, shuddering. But when he opens his eyes, his dimples press deep into his cheeks as he grins over at her, slamming his plastic cup down onto the makeshift bar top. “Want another one?”

She laughs at that, rolling her eyes but nodding at him anyway, watching as he clumsily pours them another shot. This one goes down better than the first. 

By the time he’s pulling her in the direction of where she assumes the rest of their friends are, the alcohol is already rushing through her veins and bursting into her bloodstream. Her limbs feel loose and she’s more relaxed than when she first arrived. Harry leads her to a room at the back of the house that has been set up as a sort of gameroom. There’s a group of people playing cards against humanity in one corner, another seemingly immersed in a game of flip cup. 

She hears him before she sees him, his loud laugh bouncing off the walls and effectively cutting through the general clamor of the room. She swears that laugh is like a siren call or something. 

“Rors!” he exclaims happily when he spots her, eyes lit up like supernovas as he navigates himself out of the group playing drunk jenga. She doesn’t have the chance to mentally prepare for the way he approaches her, arms outstretched wide, and gathers her into his space, wrapping her in a clumsy albeit warm embrace. “You made it,” he murmurs into her hair, voice hushed as though he only means for her to hear. When he pulls away she’s met with the sight of his usual grin, softened around the edges this time, eyes taking on a sort of bleariness that tells her he’s had a bit to drink. 

“Yeah,” she breathes out, smiling back at him because her brain isn’t functioning enough for her to do much else. She’s too consumed by him, the way the warmth of his skin is still lingering on hers, the scent of his cologne drifting in the air between them. If she didn’t have those shots with Harry then she thinks she could get drunk off the way she feels in Niall’s presence alone. 

He laces his fingers into hers and pulls her in the direction from which he came, and just like that, she’s sucked right into his orbit again. “Play drunk jenga with us! But just so you know, I am winning so far.” Rory’s heart gives a slight stutter in her chest at the way he turns around and winks at her. 

“Don’t lie to her, Niall,” complains someone from within the group, and when the rest of the world comes into focus again, Rory finds that it’s none other than Leslie, who grins wildly and knowingly at her when they make eye contact. “I’m the one winning, clearly.” She gestures around to the rest of the group, consisting of Alejandra, Shane, Callie, and two other people Rory doesn’t know, all of them wobbling on their feet slightly. 

“Does anyone ever win at drunk jenga...” Rory asks, even though they’re all aware of how much Leslie can drink them under the table. That girl has a killer tolerance. They all share a laugh and Rory easily falls into stride with them, accepting a drink Niall slides to her and observing as they resume the game. 

It’s Alejandra’s turn, and they all watch her examine the precariously placed tower, her fingers landing on a carefully chosen block as she tries to maneuver it out without tipping the whole thing over. Once she successfully manages, she reads out what’s written on the block to herself and then groans. “King’s Cup,” she announces with a roll of her eyes, “I hate that one.” 

There’s only ever one King’s Cup block in the drunk jenga pile and it’s always the least coveted one, which is why they all let out a series of cheers that they weren’t the ones to draw it before Shane grabs a clean cup for Alejandra. When someone draws King’s Cup, everyone pours a bit of their drink into one for the person, in this case Alejandra, to drink. The concoction, no matter who is playing, always turns out to be disgusting and is a surefire method to get someone well on the way to being drunk. 

Alejandra gags as she takes a sip of the drink, and despite the fact that it’s not her in that position, Rory still cringes at her friend. She gets distracted, though, from the way a certain blue-eyed boy places a hand at the dip of her waist. 

It happens again, being caught up in everything about him, in the way his chest nearly presses to her back, in the way her skin craves the warmth of his body, in the way his laugh tickles at her ear because he’s standing so close. “Lucky we didn’t get that one, eh?” he murmurs to her, and when she looks up at him, she finds him leaning in so much that her breath gets caught in her throat. His eyes absolutely sparkle as he grins, lips so close that she could just shift forward an inch and she could kiss them. “Don’t think you’d survive a King’s Cup anyway.” 

At that, she wrinkles her nose at him, giving him a light shove and rolling her eyes at the way he laughs. “I can handle my alcohol, thank you very much,” she gripes, turning away from him. She thinks that if she stares at him any longer she won’t be able to control what she does next. “And besides, you’re the one who’s already had way more to drink than I have.” 

Callie, who appears to be well over tipsy, ends up toppling the tower at her turn, much to Alejandra’s relief as she declares that the only thing she’ll be drinking for the rest of the night is water. They all disperse to let another group play. Niall tangles his fingers within Rory’s again, this time pulling her in the direction of the back patio, murmuring something about needing some air. She didn’t realize how loud it was inside until Niall is sliding the glass door shut behind them, the quiet chirp of crickets, singing a song only they know, filling the space between them instead of the raucous sounds from the party.  

The muggy summer air settles heavily in her chest, and she feels it more completely when they take a seat together on one of the large patio loungers. When she realizes Niall is still holding her hand, the feeling only grows tenfold, drapes over her like a heavy sheet of metal. It reminds her that summer is almost over and she hasn’t yet told Niall how she feels about him. 

When she looks over at him, he’s already watching her, the corners of his lips quirked up in a half smile, eyes glimmering like the stars in the sky above them. “What’re you thinking so hard about?” he whispers, even if there’s no one close enough to hear, even if there’s barely any space between them. He reaches out with his free hand to brush away the strands of hair the slight breeze had blown into her face, tucking them gently behind her ear. “You’re quieter than usual.” 

Rory huffs out a laugh which only makes his smile grow. She shrugs, looking down at their interlaced fingers because she can’t look at him for too long. Because when she does, a sort of anticipation builds in her chest, like a rolling tidal wave building up momentum from the middle of the ocean, waiting to crash into the shore. Because when she does, she feels unspoken words rush through her veins and up her throat, all slamming into one another when they’re just about to meet her tongue, becoming a tangled ball that becomes lodged in her windpipe and she suddenly forgets how to breathe. 

Niall squeezes her fingers the tiniest bit, waiting, expecting. Rory wonders why it’s so hard for her to just spit it out, to just lay all her emotions out in the empty space between them. She’s never had a problem with talking about her feelings before, especially when it came to liking someone so much that she could hardly contain herself. 

Or maybe that’s why. It’s difficult because of how different it is with Niall, because of how intensely her feelings roll through her whenever she’s in his presence. It’s stronger than Fourth of July fireworks. It’s more powerful than anything she’s ever felt. And she can’t help but wonder: what if he doesn’t like her back? What if, she says something, and ruins a friendship they’ve spent all summer creating?

“Rory.” Niall’s voice is snapping her out of her thoughts again, a gentle smile on his beautiful face. His fingers keep brushing hair behind her ear even though the wind has stopped whisking it into her face. When he speaks again, there’s the beginnings of a laugh knocking around in his throat. “Where are you, love? It’s like you’ve always got your head in the clouds.” 

She makes a guilty sort of face at him when he playfully nudges at her chin. “Sorry,” she mumbles, the breeze picking up again and nearly carrying her voice away. “I guess I just daydream a lot.” 

He breathes out a laugh, tugging their intertwined hands closer to him, sweet smile unwavering. “It’s okay. It’s cute.” Rory is so struck by his words and the way he looks when he says them that she almost wishes she had her nice charcoal pencils to immortalize it on paper. She wonders if it were possible to draw the way she feels too. At least that way it would be easier, since she could just show him instead of having to use her words. “Besides, I probably talk too much anyway,” he shrugs. 

He always does that, says something sweet or gives her a compliment only to follow it up with a lighthearted joke. Does that mean something? Her mind is buzzing with all sorts of thoughts and she hates the feeling it gives her, how uncertain it makes her. It would really just be easier to tell him right now. After all, she’s got a few shots of liquid luck in her and the moment seems good enough, the two of them alone under the night sky, hands laced together, a multitude of feelings laying unspoken between them. 

She takes a breath. “I guess I was just trying to figure out how to tell you that I—” 

“Yoooo!” There’s a crash sounding from the glass door as it gets slid open and Shane and Zafar come barreling out. “Y’all just missed the most epic fight between Greg and this other dude. Greg kicked him out for trying to steal one of their expensive bottles of whiskey.” The two of them are too caught up in their laughter as they relay their story to notice the moment they broke between her and Niall. 

Rory is too stunned by this interruption of her near-admission to even think of a response, so Niall, as always, fills in with a laugh of his own. But something is off about it. She turns to look at him because of how unlike him it sounds, as though he felt it too, whatever it is between them, and is not appreciative of being disrupted. 

More people begin to trickle out, presumably to avoid the aftereffects of the fight. Greg is known to go on and on about that sort of thing and it generally annoys others. She notices that Niall’s hand is no longer in hers, her skin getting cold once the memory of his warmth evaporates. She doesn’t know who lets go first. 

“Friends!” exclaims a very drunk Callie, holding up a wine bottle that appears to be on the brink of empty. “Thank god I found you guys. There’s so much drama happening in there.” She slumps down into the seat across from them, Shane and Zafar pulling up more chairs to do the same. Niall starts up a conversation with them as Rory watches Alejandra, Gigi, and Harry filter out too. 

“Watcha up to?” Gigi asks as she takes a seat next to Rory, nudging her slightly. Her big brown eyes are alight with excitement as she gestures as discreetly as she can towards Niall. A silent question: “Are you two a thing yet?”

Rory doesn’t know what to do except shrug, averting her eyes as she mumbles out a noncommittal, “Nothing much.” She can’t help the way disappointment simmers through her, hot and bubbling like a pot of milk on the stove about to overflow. 

Gigi seems to sense this, nudging her softer this time, and when their eyes meet, Rory can see understanding wash over her kind face. She sends her a reassuring look now, one that says: “Everything will work out.” And, in that moment, Rory is thankful for her best friend. 

Beside her, Niall gets pulled into a conversation with the rest of the boys, shifting away enough that Alejandra is able to squeeze in between them. She throws an arm over Rory’s shoulders, gesturing conspiratorially to Gigi for her to huddle in as well. When Gigi leans in, she whispers, “Listen, I know Callie is drunk off her ass right now and I love that girl but I heard her say something real sketchy about trying to get with—”

“Oh my gosh, you guys,” Callie all but screeches, and when they look over at her, she’s teetering on the edge of her seat, holding up the now empty wine bottle, watching it as if she’s had the most enlightening revelation. “Let’s play spin the bottle!” 

Gigi huffs at that, not even bothering to hide the way she rolls her eyes. “What are we in middle school? We’re too old to be playing spin the bottle.” Rory, for her part, doesn’t really care. She’s still trying to figure out what Alejandra was talking about.

“Hey, don’t hate on spin the bottle,” says Shane, head perking up from whatever conversation he was having with the boys. He’s out of his seat in moments, taking the bottle from Callie and holding it up as though it’s a trophy of some sort. “It’s not a party if we don’t play!” 

The bottle is placed on the table, Shane's fingers already moving to spin it. He looks up at Alejandra and waggles his eyebrows, sending her a wink for good measure, which leads to Zafar and Gigi teasing, “At this rate we hope it doesn’t land on Alejandra!” and “You’ll never get a girl with this fuckboy behavior.” 

Shane sends them a scathing look and spins the bottle. They watch it go around and around for what seems to be an eternity. Beside Rory, Alejandra has stiffened, her arm that is still draped across Rory’s shoulders tensing the slightest bit, and Rory thinks of the uproar that would ensue if it actually landed on her. She grins at the thought. 

The bottle finally stops spinning and it doesn’t face Alejandra. Instead, it points at Harry. This still causes uproar, with everyone screaming their heads off at this twist. Alejandra whoops cheerfully and Rory has to swipe at the tears that have sprung to her eyes from laughing so hard. Shane, for his part, turns impossibly red, all traces of bravado dissipating into the night. “Uhhh,” he stammers, much to everyone’s amusement, as he watches Harry warily, “we don’t have to like—”

“What happened to not hating on spin the bottle?” Harry’s grinning wildly, rising from his seat and walking slowly towards Shane, whose eyes have grown to the size of saucepans. “You know the rules of the game, Shaney.” A collective gasp echoes around the group when Harry presses his hands to Shane’s face, someone murmuring “holy shit” somewhere just as a croaking sound emanates from Shane’s throat when Harry slowly inches closer. 

“Okay, fine, fine!” Shane yelps, shooting backwards out of Harry’s grasp, and everyone starts roaring of laughter again. “Fine I was being an asshole!”

Alejandra scoffs, rolling her eyes. To Rory and Gigi, she says, “I knew he wouldn’t have the balls.” Then, to the rest of the group, she pointedly adds, “Guys always want to watch the girls make out with each other in this game but never want to hold up their end of the bargain unless it’s convenient to them.” 

A low hum ripples through the group, someone murmuring “Oooooh, burn,” and Shane’s face is glowing bright red now. He groans at the way everyone continues to egg him on before finally muttering “Fine!” and grabbing Harry’s face, pressing the quickest kiss to the corner of his mouth, and the screams start up again. 

Rory catches Niall’s eye, his cheeks ruddy from laughing hysterically, and he shakes his head as though to say: “Our friends are mad, aren’t they.” She simply grins at him, once again finding herself wishing that she had her sketchbook so she could draw the way his hair flops onto his forehead, wilted from the humidity, or the way the folded hem of his shirt sleeves come undone a bit, the loose edge flicking about in a random gust of wind. 

“My turn!” Callie slurs over the noise, and before anyone can protest, she’s reaching over and spinning the bottle. Rory isn’t sure how exactly it happens, but in her head, it’s like this: the bottle spirals before moving in slow motion, nearly halting at different people, waiting, teasing, as though it’s alive and full of mischief; everyone quiets, watching, waiting, and then it stops. And it points right at Niall.

Rory holds her breath as Callie smiles wickedly at him, wobbling her way towards him. Niall, for his part, simply laughs nervously, looking around as though for help. “Uhh, Callie. I wasn’t actually playing.” 

“You know the rules of the game, Niall,” she retorts, repeating Harry’s words from earlier. Rory finds herself completing Alejandra’s earlier unfinished sentence in her head. Listen, I know Callie is drunk off her ass right now and I love that girl but I heard her say something real sketchy about trying to get with...Niall…? “We’ve never made out before,” Callie says to him now, “it’ll be fun.” 

“Jesus, Callie, he said he’s not playing,” Gigi grits out. She looks as though she’s about two seconds away from starting a fight. “What ever happened to consent around here?”

Either Callie doesn’t hear or she just ignores her, because she leans places her hands on Niall’s shoulders, leaning closer and closer—Rory’s starting to feel lightheaded because she hasn’t taken a single breath since this entire thing began—and Niall leans back until he can’t anymore, the back of the chair he’s on blocking his movement. Just as her lips are about to meet his, everyone gets distracted by Leslie barreling out the glass doors, tripping over something in her excitement, but Rory catches the way he turns his face at the last second, Callie’s lips never meeting his skin.

“Aye!” Leslie calls out, holding up red solo cups. “Beer pong tournament in five! Let’s see if someone can finally beat me.” 

At that, Callie groans, pushing herself off Niall to give Leslie a scathing look. Everyone else is quiet, too shocked by what just happened. “We’re playing spin the bottle.” 

Leslie gives them all an incredulous look. “What? Why? Haven’t you all made out with each other already?”

That lightens the mood enough that people start to head inside. Rory takes in a deep breath, looking over at Alejandra and Gigi to see if they’re as weirded out as she is. “Right,” Alejandra says, rubbing Rory’s shoulder reassuringly, “that’s what I was trying to warn you about.” 

Gigi huffs. “I could punch that girl right now. That was so fucked up. Did she run out of other Shack boys to pull that bullshit on or something?” 

They all get up to walk into the house together. Niall passes by her in her peripheral but she avoids his gaze. When they’re all inside they find that the tables for beer pong have been set up. The air is buzzing with excitement because apparently the only person to ever come close to beating Leslie is, of course, Niall. 

Her eyes scan the room and find him immediately, but she can instantly tell that something is off. His shoulders are squared and tense, jaw clenched slightly, and it's as though she can see the way slight irritation is buzzing through him. The flush on his cheeks is what gives him away. He’s watching her when she starts towards him, already having tossed the ball and landed his first shot. “Good luck,” she says quietly when she’s close. 

“Rory.” His fingers close around her wrist when she moves to walk away. His opponent takes a shot and misses. “The thing that just happened—”

“Hey, Rory!” Someone is grabbing her other wrist and she’s surprised to find it’s none other than Johnny Torres. She gets a flashback to earlier in the summer when Niall asked her about him. He seems to remember too because he drops her hand and busies himself with readying his next shot. “Haven’t seen you in a while, babe.” 

Rory cringes on the inside. Standing between Johnny and Niall, she feels like she’s being pulled between two versions of herself. A past her, who was impulsive and lonely and craved physical attention when intoxicated and a new her, who didn’t need a drink to feel like she was having a good time, whose heart was whole and healed, who maybe still craved physicality but only from one person. 

“Hey, Johnny,” she replies, trying to sound as cordial as possible while also trying to think of a way to kindly tell him to fuck off. “What’s up?”

She’s hyperaware of Niall’s presence behind her, how it feels like he’s staring at her, even though he perfectly lands another shot into his opponent’s cup. Johnny’s hand is still on her wrist. “I’m about to go beat Zafar’s ass at beer pong. Wanna come watch?”

“Umm.” She gestures behind her where Niall is standing. “I’m kind of having a conversation with—”

“It’s alright, Rors,” Niall says, and she turns around to watch him sink yet another perfect shot. He turns to her with a smile, but it’s not real, it doesn’t meet his eyes. “I’ll catch up with you later, yeah?”

She’s barely getting the words, “Yeah, okay,” out of her mouth before she’s being tugged to a different table. Johnny Torres is saying something to her, talking a million miles a minute, but she can’t focus on him, instead turning back to look at Niall. His spine is rigid as he aims the ping pong ball, tossing it so hard that it knocks one of the cups over. His opponent yelps as beer spills everywhere and the frustration on Niall’s face melts away as he apologizes profusely. 

“Right, Rory?” The sound of Johnny’s voice has her head snapping back towards him, and she finds that his brows are raised, asking an unspoken question, but she wasn’t listening to a thing he’s been saying.

She shakes her head to herself, as though attempting to rid her mind of the haze it seems to be stuck in. She has no idea why everything is so weird right now. “Sorry, what?” 

Johnny doesn’t seem to mind her lack of attention because he smiles sweetly at her, brown eyes kind and familiar. “You’re in another world today, aren’t you?” he laughs, taking a sip of the drink Zafar tossed the ball into. His free hand finds the small of her back, gently pulling her closer, and she has to press her hands to his chest to keep from getting too near. He notices that, perceptive as he is, and gives her a scrutinizing sort of look. “Not in the mood?” 

A sigh of relief ripples through her and he lets her go, kind smile unwavering. “Sorry,” she breathes, brushing her hair from her face. “I’m just all over the place today.” 

He laughs, and it’s then that she remembers how attractive he is. Kind, sensitive Johnny. She hopes he finds someone who deserves him one day. “No worries, babe,” he says, nudging her nose slightly, which makes her laugh too. “You could’ve just told me.” 

They chat for a bit in between his game, catching up on various tidbits of gossip—Johnny works in the spa so he hears all the good stuff—and laughing together all while he lands shot after shot, easily beating his opponent. When he has to move on to his next game, he asks if she’d like to join him again, but she uses the opportunity to excuse herself, heading over to the makeshift bar for a drink. 

Alejandra and Gigi find her just as she’s mixing up a Jack and Coke for herself. “Rory,” Gigi hisses, pulling her to a corner and Rory frowns at her friend. “What are you doing flirting with Johnny Torres?”

Rory’s brows furrow, her frown etching deeper into her face. “I wasn’t? We were just catching up. We are friends, you know.” 

Alejandra sighs at that, crossing her arms over her chest. “Yeah, well that’s not what it looked like.” Rory grimaces at her words, taking a sip of her drink because this night, which she wanted to be about telling Niall the truth of how she feels for him, is now shaping up to be a highly stressful one. “It looked like Niall was ready to throw the whole table at Torres the entire time.” 

Rory feels her heart skip a beat in her chest. She doesn’t know how to respond to this. It turns out that she doesn’t have to because they’re being interrupted by Leslie announcing that the tournament has moved on to Niall and Johnny against each other, and the winner of that round will face off against her, the self-proclaimed—and rightfully so—beer pong champion of Hightstown. 

Rory watches as Niall smiles cordially at Johnny, greeting him with a handshake and a wish of good luck, and she sighs to herself. Niall Horan being outwardly aggressive towards someone else? She thinks back to when she confided in him about last summer and how his first instinct was to comfort her with a hug. No matter what the situation is, his kind heart will always win out when deciding how he’ll react. 

“Niall’s not that kind of guy,” she says softly to her friends, not taking her eyes off of him. He’s lining up a shot when he meets her gaze, like they’re magnets that are just drawn to each other, and she sends him a small smile and a thumbs up. However she and Johnny may have appeared to others from the outside, she hopes that gesture will give him all the reassurance he needs to realize that she’s only got eyes for him. She’s not sure if he gets it, but he smiles back, a softened version of his signature grin, as he tosses the ball. Everyone watches as it sails through the air and plonks perfectly into one of the hardest cups to land.

Clearly most people have fallen in love with Niall too because the cheer that reverberates around the room is so raucous that it echoes in Rory’s ears. Niall meets her eyes again, sending her a wink, grin growing wider across his face, and despite the fact that everyone is calling out his name, it appears that he’s only got eyes for her too. 

“Well,” Gigi starts, nudging her slightly as Alejandra does the same on her other side, and she turns her attention back to them only to find that they’re smiling knowingly at her. “Then we hope he at least serves Torres’s ass in beer pong.” 

They share a laugh at that, grabbing more drinks before heading towards the crowd to search for Harry. They find him towards Niall’s end of the table, taking photos of the match on Leslie’s phone, presumably for her to post to Instagram later. Once they’re all together, though, Rory starts to wish that she just stayed by herself at the bar because they relentlessly tease her about Niall. She knows it’s all in good fun, even if her skin feels like it’s on fire. They’re just always very vocal about their support in wanting her to have good things. 

The night goes on in a blur of more drinks and screaming. Niall ends up winning against Johnny and is now facing off with Leslie. For someone who has gone through so many rounds of beer pong he’s holding up quite well, not really as drunk as Rory expects him to be. Well, he’s more sober than her at least, but she’s also way past the beer stage and well into the hard liquor one. 

When Niall easily sails his ping pong ball into the last cup on Leslie’s side, the whole house feels as though it shakes with the intensity of everyone’s cheers. Rory doesn’t think anyone expected this to be something that captured the attention of everyone at the party, but it has been so long since anyone even came close to beating Leslie, much less actually winning against her, that it causes quite the stir. Rory, Gigi, and Harry are all screaming their heads off, jumping up and down like maniacs because of the thrill of it all. Leslie, for her part, takes it all in stride, always a good sport when it comes to these sorts of things, and she pats Niall on the shoulder and sends him a genuine smile when she congratulates him. 

Then, when Niall finally turns around and catches her eyes, it’s as though the whole world goes quiet around them. For a moment, it’s just her and Niall, smiling widely at one another, that electric force field between them pulling them towards each other. 

Until someone steps between them. 

“Oh my gosh!” Callie squeals, throwing arms around his neck to pull him into a tight embrace. “You won!” Niall seems a bit thrown off by her approach but he loosely hugs her back regardless. Rory realizes that she’s just standing there, watching them. “Let’s celebrate later,” Callie tells him, stepping back, still wobbly on her feet, sending him a wink just before she turns away. “You know where to find me.”

Rory finds herself watching Callie walk off, distantly wondering where her sudden interest in Niall came from. Then she realizes that Callie lives in the Shacks, and the rich girls that are there usually aren’t interested in other boys who work on the grounds, only in the well-off ones around them. 

“Hey,” Niall says, loud enough to be heard over the din of the party but soft enough for it to sound as though it’s directed only at her. When she looks up at him, she knows she’s drunk, because the light they’re standing under fans around him like a halo, blurry and feathered around the edges. He smiles at her in that soft and tranquil way of his and she suddenly doesn’t care about Callie or anyone else making moves on him because he’s looking at her with those sparkling blue eyes and nothing else matters. 

“Hi,” she replies, smiling back at him. His cheeks are flushed and he’s got this fuzzy look in his eyes, an aftereffect of all the beer he’s consumed, but he’s still watching her so intensely that she thinks she could melt from it all. “Congrats on being the first person to ever beat Leslie at beer pong.” 

He laughs at that, slipping his hands into his pockets, and Rory doesn’t know if she’s drunk and imagining things but it seems as though his flush grows slightly more pink. “Thanks.” Someone’s shoulder bumps into his as they pass by, the room crowded and warm, but he doesn’t take his eyes off her. “I was gonna ask if I can get you a drink but you sound like you really shouldn’t have any more alcohol.” She gasps dramatically at his words, feigning offense, but then giggling inanely as she belatedly realizes how slurred her words must have been. “Wanna come back to mine and say hello to Spike?”

She hums, mulling that over. While she would like nothing more than to spend more time with him, something about the way the trajectory of this night has gone holds her back. Which is why she says, “I was just about to head back to my place. Hanna from the kitchens gave me a slice of chocolate cake that is calling my name.” She sends him a grin for good measure. 

He doesn’t miss a beat. “Okay. I can walk you back.”

“No, it’s fine,” she replies, shrugging, “I don’t wanna pull you away from all the fun. This is like...your moment.” It’s true. In the time she’s stood here talking to Niall there have been several people walking by just patting him on the back for his victory. He should probably stay and celebrate. “And it looks like there are others who really want you to stay.” 

As soon as the words are out of her mouth she regrets it. She doesn’t mean to reference the whole Callie thing but she apparently has no filter at the moment, veins buzzing with the copious amounts of alcohol she’s consumed. Niall’s eyes flash with something she can’t quite catch but he blinks it away quickly, shrugging. “Don’t really care about others, to be honest.” He smiles, and Rory thinks her brain stops working. “I’d like to walk you home. If you’ll let me.” 

And, well, she’s not going to refuse him. She’d be crazy to do that.

“Yeah, okay,” she says, gesturing towards the door. Niall expertly leads them through the crowd with a hand on the small of her back, stopped only a handful of times by people congratulating him or asking for another round. It was as though he won the World Cup or something with the excitement that was buzzing throughout the house. Although, beer pong is considered a serious event at Hightstown.

When they finally make it outside, the night air is cool when it hits her skin. It clears her mind, which is muddled from alcohol and all of her emotions. It’s only when she takes a deep breath of fresh air that she starts to think of how much happened tonight. From Niall holding her hand out on the back patio to Callie trying to make a move on him to the tension with Johnny Torres to Niall winning beer pong—it was all a bit…much. 

Rory stumbles a bit as they go and Niall lets her lean into him so she doesn’t fall, even though he’s a bit drunk too, her hand clutching his arm. Every time she trips over a rock, he laughs. “You’re so drunk,” he gets out at one point, and they have to stop walking because his laughter is contagious and she gets overcome with giggles. 

“We can’t stop!” She grabs his arm and begins walking again, nearly halfway to her place. “I want my chocolate cake, remember!” 

“Ugh,” is what comes out of his mouth, and when she looks up at him, he’s rolling her eyes at her, that fond smile on his beautiful face again. “You’re so cute.” 

Rory thinks she’s blushing all the way up to her hairline with the way her skin tingles. “Jesus, Niall, you can’t just say things like that,” she huffs. Apparently neither of them have a filter at this point. “And besides, after tonight, you’re the one everyone’s gonna be talking about.” When he gives her a curious look, she elaborates. “You’re like a hotshot now. Beer pong champ and a Shack boy? All the girls are gonna be falling at your feet.” Then she waggles her brows at him. “If they weren’t already, that is.” 

Niall laughs but it doesn’t sound genuine. “Not really, no.”

She scoffs. They’re almost to her place now. “Nonsense. Have you seen yourself? I mean, Callie was basically drooling over you tonight. And she’s picky.” Somehow, in the midst of everything, she’s let go of his arm, so she doesn’t feel the way he stiffens. But then, she doesn’t have to be touching him to feel the palpable way his entire mood shifts. 

“I dunno,” he shrugs, averting her eyes now. “I just kind of mind my own business. I’m not interested in the messiness of it all...the whole ‘Shack boy’ thing.” 

He’s walking slightly ahead of her now, so she sees the way his shoulders are squared. It reminds her of how he looked when she was talking to Johnny Torres. Maybe it’s the way it’s clear that after tonight he can have his pick of any other beautiful girl on the grounds. Maybe it’s because she never really got to tell him how she feels and something makes her think: What if she never gets the opportunity to? 

But Rory doesn’t stop, even though he’s clearly not into this conversation. “Why didn’t you do it?”

Niall keeps walking. He seems more sober than he was ten minutes ago. Rory, if anything, feels drunker. “Do what?”

She gulps, and it’s now that she realizes the feeling that’s stirring through her chest and crawling up her windpipe: insecurity. It’s such a heavy and stubborn emotion. It knows just how to burrow into the deepest parts of the mind and take root, unmoving and relentless. Watching someone else nearly kiss him made her realize how much she wouldn’t be able to take it, how much it would hurt if he didn’t choose her. “Why didn’t you stay back? Like, Callie was clearly into you. She even invited you to—” She takes a breath. She can’t finish that statement. “Why didn’t you—”

“Jesus Rory,” he huffs. The whole night she could see the way a complex emotion rippled through him, embedded into his body language, but it’s now that she can hear how annoyed he is. “I didn’t want to do anything with Callie.” 

“I mean, I'm not judging you. It’s a party and that’s a thing. That happens. At parties. I think.” She doesn’t know what she’s saying anymore. It’s just nonsense words flowing out of her mouth as a sort of coping mechanism to deal with the possible rejection from the boy she’s spent all summer falling for. 

Niall stops in his steps, turning his entire body towards her, probably so she can feel the weight of his glare because she sure does. “Are you fuckin’ serious right now?” His accent is thick with an emotion she’s never heard on him before. “You’re taking the piss, aren’t you?” 

“What?” She shrinks in his gaze and he looks at her as though he wants her to say more. “I don’t know—”

She trails off at the way he huffs in frustration, carding his fingers through his hair. He turns around and walks away before turning back towards her. “Rory, there is no way you have no idea what I’m talking about. You can’t possibly be that oblivious.” 

That thing happens again, where she forgets to breathe when he looks at her like he does, and she frowns at him. “Niall, what are you going on about?”

“Rory.” His hands scrub over his skin and it looks like he wants to rip his face off, his demeanor completely different. Rory wishes they were laughing at nothing like they were ten minutes ago. She wishes she never said anything. “Callie wasn’t the one I wanted to make out with!”

Her heart stops at the energy he’s radiating, and she realizes that there’s something she wants him to say, but she doesn’t know if he’ll say it. “Then...who—”

“You!” His cheeks are flushed scarlet, chest heaving, and it feels as though his voice echoes around them. Rory distantly realizes that they’re now standing in front of her place. “You, Rory. This whole summer it’s been—” Silence engulfs them. There’s a fire in his eyes that she’s never seen before, blue clouded with something that looks like want, like longing, like everything she feels lodged in her chest. 

It happens so fast she has no time to even register anything. She just feels the way his hands grab her face and pulls her into him, and the last thing she sees before fervent lips are pressing against hers are electric blue eyes filled with desire. Niall kisses her so intensely, so passionately, that she’s caught off guard, nearly falling backwards before he’s catching her. One of his arms is wrapped around her waist as he holds her close, his free hand tucked delicately under her jaw, and she can’t help the way she melts into him, knees going absolutely weak. 

She tilts her head and kisses him back with just as much fervor, a warmth surging through her that’s unlike anything she’s ever felt before. No one has ever kissed her like this, like they’ve been starved of her, like the world is ending and all they have is this moment, like they only have here and now and one chance to get it all right. It feels as though the world stops around them and the only forms of existence are Niall and Rory and all of their unspoken feelings being poured into an impassioned, heated kiss. It’s all encompassing and magical and so, so right. 

Because Niall tastes of beer and sugar and summer. Of everything she’s ever wanted. Of everything she doesn’t want to let go of. And it’s dizzying and consuming and so incredibly perfect that she’s left clutching onto his shoulders and holding on for dear life. She sighs into his mouth and he pulls her in close, rolls her lower lip between his teeth and a sort of desperate sound leaves her throat. She doesn’t know where she begins and where he ends. She doesn’t care. 

Her hands slide from his shoulders to his chest, fingers moving to curl into his shirt, and just as quickly as this all began, it stops, Niall stepping back quickly as though she’s hit some sort of switch. Her eyelids feel heavy as she tries to peel them open, blinking several times to regain her bearings. She’s acutely aware of the absence of him now, of how far he’s stepped back, of how the wind makes everything feel cold, even though it’s a warm summer night. 

“I’m sorry,” Niall breathes out, but all she can focus on is the beautiful pink of his cheeks and shiny red of his lips and the way his soft brown hair flops onto his forehead, disheveled from the fingers he runs through them. “I shouldn’t have—I should’ve asked—”

Rory feels stuck in a daze. She thinks she’s forgotten how to speak. All she wants is Niall’s lips on hers again. “What?” He’s looking at her with wide, apologetic blue eyes and she has no idea why because that was quite possibly the most unforgettable moment of her life. 

“I didn’t wanna ruin anything and now I’ve gone and—” His words are slurred and quick and she barely catches them. He nearly looks like he’s having a sort of existential crisis. “Goodnight, Rory,” he says quickly, and then just like that, he’s gone, turning off the main road towards the Shacks. She stumbles backwards until she somehow reaches the steps leading to her door, taking a seat as her brain tries to make sense of what just happened. 

Her mind is blank, drunk on alcohol and a gorgeous boy. She brings her fingers to her lips, as though she can’t believe that Niall’s were pressed against them just moments ago. “Holy shit,” she breathes out into the night. 

The wind howls softly, as though whispering it back to her.

***

Rory doesn’t know right from left or up from down. She can barely get her key into the lock. All she can think about is Niall Horan and his soft lips and warm hands and a kiss that has turned her whole life upside down.

If you asked her how many days of summer were left then she’d tell you she has no idea.

--

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tell me what you think!

[haberdashing]

You know that post about how Hogwarts being mandatory for pureblood wizards/witches during Deathly Hallows means that the school would have a ton of older homeschoolers attending for the first time and also a bunch of them would be Weasleys?

And how said post more or less says “this is a great excuse to make a bunch of Weasley OCs”?

...well, I made a bunch of Weasley OCs. Details under the cut because long post is long.

Fair warning: it’s been a while since I’ve read Harry Potter, so it’s possible some of these details may not 100% fit with canon.

The Weasley family branch I’ve invented is tentatively related through their father being Arthur Weasley’s younger brother (though I might change the details of their Weasley connection, idk). They live near the English/Scottish border and until Deathly Hallows time were all homeschooled because between getting to King’s Cross and getting all the school supplies Hogwarts says each student has to bring, going would mean spending rather a lot of money that they didn’t generally have to spare.

There are probably a few siblings who are old enough that the Hogwarts mandate doesn’t apply to them, but I haven’t figured out anything about them yet, so I’ll focus on the ones who do end up going to Hogwarts, at least for one year: Lance, Morgan, Gwen, Penelope, and Callie.

Lance’s full name is Lancelot, and he doesn’t really care whether you call him by his full name or just by Lance. He’s strong, determined, and very much a rule-follower except when the rules are blatantly wrong, which of course is the case rather often in Deathly Hallows Hogwarts. He’s a Quidditch whiz, usually gravitating towards the position of Keeper. He’s not terribly fond of formal studying, and having it forced upon him doesn’t help, but he makes it work. He’s very much protective of his younger siblings, and during his time at Hogwarts he extends that protection to any and all Weasley relatives, though Ginny makes it clear quickly enough that it’s not necessary to treat her the same way. He’s the kind of person who might have made a good Prefect, under different circumstances.

Morgan’s name isn’t short for anything, and they didn’t pick it solely because of the Arthurian legend connection, but, well, that connection certainly didn’t hurt either. They’re on the scrawny side, making them looking even younger than they actually are. They’re a smart one, but they’re more likely to apply that intellect on experiments of their own invention than on, you know, homework. They’re fascinated with the rules of magic, and especially with what happens when magic goes awry. They’re independent, introverted, and wildly inventive. There’s no one area of magic that they prefer, because they like to dabble in all of them, mixing and matching as their latest big idea requires. Morgan probably would get along with Fred and George, or at least would be open to collaborating with them, if only as an excuse to justify some of their wilder experiment ideas.

Gwen and Penelope are twins--fraternal twins, specifically. Gwen’s the older of the two by a whopping nine minutes, and likes to lord that (and her extra inch and a half of height) over Penelope. Every once in a while the two of them like to claim that they’re identical twins and watch the befuddled expressions of those trying to reconcile that claim with how they don’t look much alike, especially by Weasley standards.

Gwen’s full name is Gwendolyn. She doesn’t much care if you call her Gwendolyn or just Gwen, but she does insist that if you use a nickname for her it be Gwen rather than Lyn, because as it happens her mother’s name is Lynn and she’d rather not go by her mother’s name, thanks. She’s a shy one, good at blending in and being a wallflower but not so good at actually, well, standing out from the crowd, though part of her wants that, wants to be the center of attention rather than being perpetually in the background. She’s very adaptable, though, and good at judging the scene in front of her and acting accordingly, and she’s got a great memory to boot. She's fond of potion-making, of how nice and predictable it is when you follow the rules.

Penelope, on the other hand, is significantly more outgoing than her twin sister. The only people allowed to call her Penny are her siblings, and even then she usually rolls her eyes. She’s a social butterfly, good at making friends of all shapes and sizes, and she’s got a huge heart. She’s almost as good at Quidditch as her brother, though she’s more of a Chaser or Seeker. She’s also got a green thumb, excelling at taking care of plants both magical and mundane.

Callie is the youngest of the family. Her full name is Calypso, but she hates it with a passion. She’s outspoken with a wicked temper and isn’t afraid of backing up insults with a few choice hexes. She’s a rebellious soul, and while she’s the baby of the family, she hates being babied, hates being reminded of her youth. In a different age, she would have loved taking Defense Against the Dark Arts. As it is, she’s not terribly interested in any of her classes, and it shows in her grades, which are lackluster at best.

Morgan, Penelope, and Callie look exactly as you’d expect a Weasley to look, with bright red hair and skin covered in freckles. Lance’s hair is closer to strawberry blonde than outright red, but he’s still clearly a Weasley at a glance. Gwen, on the other hand, takes after her blonde, freckle-less mother, with hair more blonde than red and the freckles on her pale skin being few and far between.

When the Hogwarts mandate comes, Lance is sixteen, Morgan is fourteen, Gwen and Penelope are thirteen, and Callie is eleven. They all end up as Gryffindors, but the Sorting Hat takes longer to decide on that for some of them than others. (Lance and Callie get proclaimed Gryffindors with the hat barely touching their head; Gwen is briefly considered for Slytherin, but turns it down immediately; Morgan gets considered more seriously for Ravenclaw, and Penelope for Hufflepuff, but in the end, Gryffindor still wins out.)

The whole family would be seen as “blood traitors”--living in a sparsely-populated area where there are only so many people around to connect with, this branch of the Weasley family has gotten close to neighbors both magical and Muggle, and are thus well aware that Muggles and Muggleborns are people no worse than pureblooded wizards like themselves, and that not having magic doesn’t mean a person can’t be valuable or skilled in other ways. How each member of the family acts to further their views and assist the resistance, however, varies from individual to individual.

Lance spends the first month or two following the rules, even when it hurts him to do so, even when he knows that they’re wrong, because he has a long-term plan in mind, and said plan requires being a rule-follower at all times. Once his reputation as a good and obedient student was firmly established, he would occasionally use that reputation to try and keep those fighting the resistance more directly out of trouble. (”You said Brian was out in the halls past curfew last night, up to no good? Well, that can’t be right, because he was with me in the Gryffindor common room all night--we were cramming for that big Charms test we have coming up, I can probably dig up the notes we went through together if you want...”) It doesn’t always work, but it works often enough to be worthwhile.

Morgan’s experiments become mostly directed towards practical matters that they could then share to help others fight the good fight. Some are straightforward enough, spells that harm others in new and exciting ways that might be enough to throw off an opponent, but Morgan’s pet project is working on a spell to change hair colors. Given that red hair, Weasleys, Gryffindors, and blood traitors have become largely synonymous in the eyes of the current Hogwarts administration, being able to change one’s hair color at a moment’s notice has more practical applications than one might initially assume. The hard part, is turns out, isn’t making a spell to change hair colors, but making a spell to change hair colors without some horrible side effects kicking in along the way. After a few months and several trips to the nurse, however, they figure it out and spread the information to everyone they think they can trust.

Gwen uses her largely non-Weasley appearance, her talents for adapting to strange situations and blending into the background, and the spare Slytherin robe that’s been tucked away inside the Gryffindor common room all year with nobody able or willing to explain how it got there, to occasionally go undercover and see what information she can pick up when people aren’t quite as guarded as they normally would be towards a Gryffindor Weasley. While she uses several fake names for these missions, one she uses a few times is her mother’s maiden name of Hendry; the Hendry family is largely Hufflepuff, when they attend Hogwarts at all, but there are enough exceptions to that rule that a Hendry Slytherin isn’t entirely implausible.

Penelope does a few minor things to directly resist Hogwarts’ administrations, like tearing down posters that are barely-disguised Death Eater propaganda pieces, but perhaps more important is her role in comforting and reassuring other students who are worried about what lies ahead. She tells every distraught student that things aren’t as bad as they seem, that everything’s going to be okay, even when Penelope herself is very much unsure of the validity of those statements.

Callie speaks her mind, getting into loud arguments about the rights of Muggles and Muggleborns whenever she’s given the opportunity to do so, and some of those arguments turn into outright fights, exchanges of words turning into exchanges of spells. She also doesn’t even bother to pretend to follow rules that she disagrees with, even when it’s clear that she’ll be caught if she breaks them. Callie spends a lot of time in detention as a result, but she doesn’t mind; in fact, it’s something she prides herself on.

During the Battle of Hogwarts, Lance, Callie, or both lose their lives. If it’s Lance, it’s because he gets in the way of a spell launched at a younger Weasley, whether that be one of his siblings or a more distant relative, willing to protect them even at the cost of his own life. If it’s Callie, she dies as she lived, fighting with all her might for what she believes is right, doing her best to prove that she’s more than just a weak little kid, and willing to face whatever consequences await her for doing so.

[talesofealdancynedom]

Tale 17: Calliope Cwenfyre, Amadeus and Andromeda Rosethorn (4/5)

Tale 17: Calliope Cwenfyre, Amadeus and Andromada Rosethorn (chapter 4 - A Trap 4/5) part 3. Stories of True Love

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In the morning, the team leader realized they were short supplies, and sent Amadeus and Andromeda down to the village to get what they needed. Paladins were often faster than seers, and the party had no witches that would have usually have been sent for local interactions. Amadeus warned against proceeding without paladins; He didn’t trust wizards to play nice with the dragons, and didn’t want to leave Calliope all alone. He knew she was as brave and vacant around magic as her father. Either that, or Calliope may go dark, and cast uncontrollable mage spells, from her emotions; As Amadeus was putting her in uncomfortable situations, and causing sleep deprivation. Calli had to assure Amadeus, that as a mage, she could handle it; And was perfectly well rested and feeling well. Which is commonly referred to as lying.

“It’s ok Amadeus” Calliope insisted. “We’ll stay in the camp. I didn’t finish charting last night…”

“If you’re sure, Calli. Don’t light anything on fire while we’re gone; you look like you’re going to explode. Mages, we tend to do that. As the child of summer, named by the Dragon King; If you catch a spark, I fear for this whole forest.” Amadeus said as he left. His tone was half joking, and half dead serious. Calliope by then, had very strong fire magic. She also felt like she was going to explode; and like Morgan, had no talent in concealing that fact. Between a new species of dragon, and sharing a tent with her dream girl, Calliope felt like her head was filled with cotton balls; soft, compact, fuzzy, and blocking out all other sensations.

Once in town, Andromeda seemed to be zoned out. Amadeus was both trying to be responsible by getting everything they needed, while worried about Calliope being alone in the wilderness. On top of all that, he was suddenly tasked with preventing his daughter from wondering into lamp poles. Amadeus was becoming disheartened; Instead of making the girls happy and safe, he was preventing them from doing their jobs. They seemed unable to talk to each other, no matter how much encouragement he gave. Not to mention, one of them may literally start a fire.

As they walked by the stores, Amadeus despondently looked into the store windows. All the store fronts had jewel-tone chipping paint ledges, and gold titles on their large display windows, written in an illegible font. Then he saw something he recognized from a book; The cup of gales. Which was rumored to be in this village. It was a silver etched goblet, that allowed the drinker of any beverage from it, to control winter weather for two weeks. Possibly made by Helrem Monafyra, the inventor of wizardry and wands; Warlocks made the oddest things. When Amadeus mentioned this to Andromeda, she just shrugged. Then she remembered that Calliope loved to collect cups, like souvenir spoons. Andromeda lit up.

“Daddy! Can I, I mean we, get that for Calli? While we’re here, I mean. It should only take a minute…” Andromeda said. Amadeus thought that was a splendid idea. The sweet pleading smile of his big girl, was melting him into obedience.

Amadeus and Andromeda walked into the shoppe, which turned out to sell antiques. It had a dusty smell, that mixed with potpourri. It was quiet, cluttered, and had an odd mixture of objects; from bagpipes and tartans, to tchotchkes and table wear. Like Morgan’s mage journals, which he restored in his youth, a lot of lost magic treasures end up in tinny old shops. In Ealden Cynedom, what seemed like junk no one wants, is literal treasure. It was no wonder the cup stayed there for decades. While Andromeda inquired about the chalice, Amadeus got distracted by a tin rooster that popped out marbles, when you tapped its head. He decided to buy that too for some reason. It was however, not magical. Though he would not put it beyond a warlock mage to make something like that. It seemed like something Reggie would do.

“Father are you ok?” Andromeda inquired, as they headed back. Amadeus had gone foggy from the shop, that was both boring and overstimulating at the same time.

“Yes, cupcake. I just don’t like the unescapable Northland Celtic aesthetic; I didn’t even know they had potpourri here. I bought a decorative chicken; that place was an experience. and a trap... I hope Calliope likes the cup… I hate frivolous spending.” Amadeus rambled in a monotone voice. His father raised him well.

“Father. We’re filthy rich. Our total came to twenty North pence….” Andromeda said in surprise. “Wait, you got a useless Gallic kitchen rooster? Those are the real trap; I don’t know anyone who has just one...I am so… disappointed in you, father; You used to be so cool…”

When Andromeda and Amadeus got to the camp, a few hours later, it was on fire. When they asked how, they got mixed answers: no one was certain if it was Calliope or a dragon. However, it turned out that Calliope had ran off to the dragon ledges, once the fire had taken hold. Responsible for everyone’s safety, as an accompanying paladin, Amadeus panicked. He shoved The Cup of Gales into Andromeda’s hands, and nudged her up the path to Calliope. Amadeus was now worried that something might happen to Calli, if she was alone in a forest fire running around sea walls; he must have forgotten she had authentic fairy robes to protect her, due to his ‘protect at all costs’, mentality. Amadeus was having a crisis. He hadn’t felt this many emotions since his mom died; and at least he had spiced wine back then. He loved spiced wine. Return to the chaos around him, Amadeus had to put out the fire; the team’s safety was his job. The winter ice magic he wielded from his enfeyment, was powerful enough to quickly stop the enchanted luck fire. But as a wizard, Andromeda felt helpless and weak compared to such abilities. The massive magic fire was terrifying, and beyond her capabilities. Andromeda cradled the goblet to her chest, frantically looking around for Calliope.

“Andromeda, Calli is up by the cliffside. She may have started the fire. The Dragon King could have blessed her with the ability to summon all of Quellelthan’s magic fires. This type of fire is not breathed by green backs, to my knowledge.” Amadeus ordered. “Also, see if she’s ok, and give her the cup. I know spells to put out the fire, and can save the equipment. As party paladin, the team’s safety comes first. Remember that as a paladin. Now go.” Amadeus said, alchemizing hex ice to cancel the luck fire.

Andromeda began to dash up to the ledge trail after Calliope. At the top, she found Calliope in her pajamas, sitting on the sea cliff edge, sobbing while hugging Heracles. As best as one can hug a snake anyway. Hugging a familiar for comfort, as sensations are shared, is a valid coping mechanism among magic users. Sometimes you need a hug.

“Calli are you ok?!” Andromeda yelled, as she approached. “The camp was lit like a forge.” She panted. Calliope had a faint glow to her, like she had gone dark.

“I started the fire. I’m going to be in so much trouble. I just got so frustrated because I couldn’t journal. Going on a quest like this was my dream, and I’m failing at it. I’m so embarrassed; I ruined everything.” Calliope whimpered.

“Don’t worry, my father is on it. He sent me to check on you. I’m sure your notes are great. You still have time to complete this study, and you can always go talk to the Dragon King later; to fill anything we missed. There’s no way you did a bad job after all the work you put in to be here. You’re a great seer.” Andromeda said, climbing up to sit next to her. The echo of the waves against the cliff formation, terrified her. Andromeda, as a paladin, was desensitized to terror, but heights still got her. Perched side by side, she could feel Calliope was giving off an immense warmth, like a gas stove. She was gazing at the sleeping dragons, who lay upon the far ledges resting on their hoards.

“Oh, how about you tell me about what you found out? Like what they’re doing down there? As someone who specialize in magic combat, I have little grasp of elaborate detailed knowledge.” Andromeda said in a panic. Seers love going on rants about their magic interests; it makes them sparkle with youthful enthusiasm. A positive topic, might make Calliope feel a little better. Without Hesitation, Calliope answered.

“Their sleeping in while protecting their collections. Like all dragon children. They use their rough heads to carve suitable ledges into sea walls, away from danger. Their also piscivorous, so they are closer to snacks...” Calliope said with increasing joy in her voice. She glimmered like her father; her green eyes lighting up. She was calming down, and was no longer in a magic state. Andromeda now realized why Calliope was so precious to her father. It’s hard not to love someone so kind, innocent, and passionate like that.

“That’s pretty cool. You’re a season mage, right? The type that has talent in magic having to do with their quadrant. Child of summer, or some prophecy. It’s all the same to me; I’m just a wizard. I heard the Dragon King named you, and is your friend? If you have a blessing of the dragon kingdom, does that mean you collect things too? Father says you collect cups. I remember being board when you showed me them; when we were little. Not that I’m judging…” Andromeda said.

“Ah, yes. I am. I do…” Calli said draping Heracles around her shoulders again. She was inching a bit closer to Andromeda, enjoying her comfort. She wasn’t going dark anymore, but still felt warm in spite of the cool sea breeze.

“Good. Um, we got you a thing. In town while getting supplies. My dad suggested it.” Andromeda murmured. This is also what is commonly called, a lie. She then handed Calliope the silver chalice.

“Um… It’s a cup. WAIT IS IT THE CUP OF GALES” Calliope exclaimed. Andromeda happily received the best story about a magic object, she had ever heard. Possibly because Calliope was the one telling it. Calliope was so thrilled; she gave Andromeda a big hug. If it is of interest, the cup had passed through many hands to get in Isfisceard; as it looked generic, and was commissioned from a mage long ago. No one wanted or valued silver anymore, as no one wanted to polish it; Even if it gave them weather powers. Calliope valued it though, regardless of its magical power. It was a pretty goblet; from a pretty girl.

“Thanks so much, Andromeda! I know exactly which shelf to put it on when we get home. My mom is going to groan when I tell her about it. I don’t know why that gives me joy….” Calliope said sweetly. Tentatively Andromeda went in to hug Calliope in, as she casually looked into the beautiful scenery. Calliope’s dress was as warm and soft upon hugging as she imagined. A moment later, Amadeus arrived in time to see the two of them perfectly fine, if not a bit too close to the edge of a cliff.

NEXT--->

<---PREVIOUS

[calacuspr]

Calacus Weekly Hit & Miss – Sarah Fuller & Jurgen Klopp

Weekly Hit & Miss

Every Monday we look at the best and worst communicators in the sports world from the previous week.

HIT – SARAH FULLER

Sarah Fuller became the first woman to play in a Power 5 match – the highest level of collegiate American football – as a placekicker for Vanderbilt Commodores against Missouri Tigers.

Several women have appeared at lower levels of college football, but 21-year-old Fuller made history and took the opportunity to use her platform to encourage other females in sport.

“I just want to tell all the girls out there that you can do anything you set your mind to,” she said after the match.

Fuller wore a helmet with the slogan Play Like A Girl on the back, a non-profit organisation that encourages girls to play sport.

Despite her team losing the match 41-0, Fuller’s actions are likely to inspire young girls to believe that they can follow in her footsteps and compete on an even keel with their male counterparts.

A day after Fuller’s appearance, there was another encouraging storyline to come out of American football as Callie Brownson made history when she became the first woman to serve as a positional coach in an NFL regular season game.

The Cleveland Browns chief of staff filled in for Drew Petzing as coach of the side’s tight ends and helped them to a 27-25 win against Jacksonville Jaguars, with tight end Austin Hooper scoring one of the team’s two receiving touchdowns.

It’s vital that women are given opportunities to showcase their skills and both Fuller and Brownson have become role models for underlining that hard work should pay off regardless of gender.

There is still a long way to go, but this is another step on the road to creating equal opportunities for athletes and staff alike in elite sport.

MISS – JURGEN KLOPP

Jurgen Klopp had plenty to be unhappy about this weekend as Brighton & Hove Albion snatched a late late draw from the penalty spot.

Twice VAR ruled Liverpool goals out by the finest of margins and the evergreen James Milner left the field with an injury as the intensity of the fixtures schedule took its toll.

Understandably frustrated, Klopp accused BT Sport reporter Des Kelly and other broadcasters of putting the health and fitness of players at risk.

“I don't know how often I have to say it. You picked the 12:30 kick-off, you. Not you personally but you did it, didn’t you?” said Klopp.

“After Wednesday, Saturday at 12:30 is really dangerous for the players. Until this year is over in this part of the season we had this slot three times. Look who else had this slot three times? No-one.”

Kelly stood his ground and explained to Klopp that the broadcasters did not decide the scheduling.

Kelly responded: “Maybe you're firing at the wrong target. We are broadcasters, we work within Premier League rules, and Premier League makes the rules, that's the Premier League clubs, so shouldn't you be talking to Premier League clubs? Shouldn't you be talking to chief executives.

“When you say 'you picked the 12.30', the Premier League clubs chose that slot. There's a reason that slot is there, because it's valuable to the Premier League. Of course it's difficult, the stadiums are empty and the broadcasters are supporting the game.

“Your chief executives and other chief executives should be having that discussion. If you come down here and just have a go at the broadcaster, it doesn't go anywhere, it's not going to change anything.”

Klopp also used his post-match interviews to complain about the need for Premier League teams to be permitted to make five substitutions – as is the case in the Football League and other countries and took aim at Sheffield United manager Chris Wilder.

“Ask Chris Wilder how we can avoid that [injuries],” Klopp lamented.

“We had a talk between managers, a week ago now, I think, it was 15-5 if not 16-4 for five subs.

“Chris Wilder says constantly that I'm selfish. I think the things he's said shows that he's selfish. I was in a similar position at Mainz, all about staying in the league.

"Today, if we had five subs, I take off Andy Robertson and bring on Konstantinos Tsimikas. To save Robbo. Not to make our game better, just to save him. It's not about changing tactics and systems, it's just to save the players.”

For such a superb communicator, Klopp taking aim at broadcasters and rival managers was a rare mis-step prompted by understandable on-field frustration. 

It’s great for broadcasters, who get managers and players at their most emotional, and Klopp is usually charm personified.

While it’s vital to use his platform to get his points across, he could have been just as compelling without being confrontational and picking fights with the wrong people.

[ber-bonfamille-lyons]

BDRP Resolutions

in which this is long 

Write your RPer Resolutions for 2018!

-Plot with more members, definitely! I try to expand of course and rp threads with everyone but I think I could do better and could def do bigger plots with more people.

-Complete more tasks tbh. This one is gonna be hard for me to do but idk if I could do at least one task every other month that would be an improvement over last year haha.

-Continue to work on scenery and detail etc. My weaknesses. I hope that rping more detail-oriented characters, like Charlie or even Mowgli, or exploring the lake with Andrina or the forest with Prince/Merida will help with this. Though also just being more aware of it in the day to day

-Dream Journal for Charlie/More music stuff for radio

Write at least one resolution, or “goal,” that you have as an RPer for your character(s)

Mel: This was on last year’s so that tells u something but I think it’s gonna happen-- explore her feelings for Howl! Also would love for her to do some more seedy things and i see want an apprentice!!

Ber: Explore Berlioz’s mental health more. Whether I do this through tasks/one-shots or something, Ber is kinda in this weird place where he’s blurring the line between reality/fantasy and I think that’s interesting. A lot of it has to do with things he isn’t dealing with (trauma from Taka and going down into hell). Also very specifically I want him to rp with Marie more bc Berrie is kinda underdeveloped both on my part as an rper and his part as like a mediocre brother lmao. I also like him as a supporting role in other people’s plots and I hope I can keep pushing him in those directions. And of course I’m very interested to see him and Simba repair and grow their relationship hopefully stronger than ever. <3 OH and g row a backbone tbh stand up for himself more do it ber

Kiara: Figure out her school life!! I still want to have her shadow someone sooo I think I could see her shadowing Minnie or even Jiminy since she’s sort of into health and social work. Also explore her envy of her friends with magic bc she had powers in Star wars and lowkey she still wants powers (opportunity for Feys Gold Antics here-- also feel liek there could be something interesting in Kiara v. Jake if Jake really does start getting more elitist)

Hades: BOARD STUFF. Im really excited to play Hades as a politician and like-- authority figure in town. Though he’s gotta save his own soul first lol. Also supporting Belle in hopefully going back to school. Alsoooo there are loose threads in hell that I have and would like 2 look into…

Milo: Talk with Jane about what comes next after pride u because his grant is almost up! Plot with BIANCA/BERNARD hopefully about the rescue aid society.

Nala: ONE NIGHT STAND SERIOUSLY. Let loose. Date someone bc if she fell in love work wouldnt be her focus and she’d grow a lot. Uh repair relationship with Simba?

Kiki: bring back jiji lmfao i suck. Finish her apprenticeship and unlock the trU nature of her powers and stuff mhm. Also kiss someone lol

Anita: Bring her fam in town and explore like, this clash between her old life and the new life now that she has grown so much.

Prince: ACCEPT UR FEELINGS FOR ELLA. Embrace them! Continue to train Bambi/find the fucker who shot u/be a Dad and do Dad things like idk a parent teacher conference??? Thats hilarious. Somehow I want him to become like a guest lecturer at Pride U but I’m not sure how yet. I also feel like idk Akela could draw him into becoming slightly darker after this shooting and that might be interesting so who knows, maybe he should join Akela’s morally gray magic club,

Paul: GO TO PRIDE U PLZ. Deal with the paulina plot lol. Contend with his inferiority issues that stem from the financial inequality between him and Perdy. Just rly go into their relationship and figure it out post-break up post-make up u know

Andrina: Explore the lake. Get into seedy stuff with Ursula maybe??? Continue to sleep with people thats very fun for me. FIND OUT WHO RAVEN IS. Get a cat.

Merida: I need her to make more friends bc I want her to fuck up and then ruin all those friendships ahaha. Want to have a showdown with some powerful magicks, gimme Akela and Max, all the shapeshifters!!!

Mowgli: Meet the Bonfamilles (lmao). Uhhh would lvoe to rp more with Akela i need to brainstorm how. I’d also like him to become more extreme tbh? Maybe start having night terrors or something bc of all his suppressed guilt wow just got a good idea ahha. Alsoooo maybe get a mentoooor…

Charlie: HAVE A PROPHECY ABOUT SOMEONE PPL HIT ME UP. I wanna start him on the research train when I get that in place and also maybe abuse hospital equipment (aka scan his own brain ehhe)  but also maybe save someone’s life would be cool, ok, yeah. Also hopefully grow his relationships with all hospital personnel and patients, and maybe get a  mentorship with Tibbs and/or Sweet. In fact it’d be really cooool if he could eventually help Sweet with his research like as an intern or assistant or something. And also i want to get him to an event but i need him to get a friend for that so!!! A texting buddy friend, that is a specific goal.

Write at least one resolution IN CHARACTER for your characters. What do THEY want to accomplish or change in the New Year? 

Mel: “Do something impossible.”

Ber: “Be a better brother and friend and boyfriend… be less crazy lol ahah”

Kiara: “figure out my LIFE lmao”

Hades: “Make real change in Swynlake.”

Milo: “Apply for a grant to study Atlantis...again.”

Nala: “Be my oWN love of my life. I’m a single independent woman and that’s amazing, I’m AMAZING.”

Kiki: “Restore Jiji D:”

Anita: “Direct a play again! That would be very fun. Oh, and paint more, I really do need to paint.”

Prince: “Be a good father to Bambi… make the forest a safe place again.”

Paul: “Be a good father, a good partner-- find better ways to support my kids.”

Andrina: “lol i dont DO goals bye.”

Merida: “Shoot Mor’du. Become a Prince.”

Mowgli: “... don’t make any trouble.”

Charlie: Bitch has a list.

Get phlebotomist license!!

Renew certs: CPR/AED/First Aid/Wilderness First Aid/BLS

Give up gluten! Again!

Exercise.

Go to a Swynlake Event! It will be fine no one will die!!! (!!!)

Plotting Exercise! Pick one of the resolutions/goals in #2 and plan a rough guideline to how you could accomplish it.

Mowgli explores his powers/grief

PARA 1: Has a  nightmare and accidentally sets something on fire (Akela)

PARA 2: Frightened, Mowgli confides in someone about his powers (Peach/Will)

PARA 3: Seeks help from either Howl or Ursula--depending on which one, it could litERally change the direction of the entire plot.

List of Characters I want to RP with:

I went through character by character but I would love to do more than this I am sure ahah.

Mel: Mateo, Ursula, Sophie (bc duh Howl), Akela

Ber: Irma, Sophie because they should be better friends, more Peg, JENNy bc they play piano ok!!, ANNETTE bc they totally know each other!!, tbh daisy and ber could do something with anxiety, Rita for sure, more Simon somehow i swear it

Hades: Sally, more stuff with Miguel, Jack, Shock/Samara, Al, Cruella, Simba, Oogie, maybe Dipper

Kiara: more stuff with Jake, Jiminy, Minnie/Rama maybe, Isa, Wilbur, Penny, Ollie, Jenny. Also lowkey Ursula.

Milo: more stuff with Kida, Bianca, Elena, also Goliath and Thomas (teachers!!)

Nala: MAUI. sorry look i just want maui its been a year. Also maybe some board members and stuff since she’ll be politically active? So Al, Cruella, Soleil for that (and Simba, but I rp with simba allll the time). Also Arthur, Adam.

Kiki: Mateo as well!! More young-ish people: Dipper, Maui (she’s a #bigfan), Callie.   

Anita: more stuff with Perdita. Also other artists: Pascal, Jane, Namine, Violet, maybe Art if he does art??, Peach, Peri, Duchess etc!! Hit me up please.

Prince: all the forest politics okay: Alasdair, Akela, Goliath, Shere, why are these men. Also just big Magicks in general: Ursula, Namine maybe. More fairies so Peri and Terence. Also very specifically: Theo and Thomas O’Malley. Maybe Jake tbh if he starts like patrolling the forest?

Paul: Goliath bc he’s a lit professor! Thomas bc they are bros now!!!! Maybe some other mersisters-- Aqua, Alana, Arista. Peach bc writing? Lmao. Also some lowkey shady people like Roscoe or Lock would be really great. Possibly Oogie bc he owns a casino and gambling~

Andrina: URSULA ok sorry i just want the sea witch. TBH Hiro or Tombo could be cool bc she’s into STEM stuff. Ken because I want to rp with Ken and I don’t think anyone else would get along? Ahah. Arista, Aqua and Alana. Herculessss.

Merida: Bambi bc scottish and also lowkey was involved in mother’s death!!! Maximus bc she should shoot him!! More Shere! Follow-up with Goliath tbh in class lmao would be funny. CORNY bc thye r destined to be friends. Callie!!! Oo, also more Eric.

Mowgli: Howl, Ursula, Mateo, more Peach, Jenny, Wilbur, Theo, Bambi Penny (yay orphans). Maybe a professor: Thomas, Goliath, Shere?

Charlie: so many ok. Ellie, Sweet, Shock, Jack, SALLY thats in caps bc I need it, Dipper, Boo, tbh could do some drug stuff with Roscoe, Lock and Theo. Rita bc she can be his mom, Oogie, anyone with trauma who wants charlie to relive it with them: eric, thomas, shere, lou the list can go on-- annnnd belle and callie also

[chronicallycal]

Hi Callie! Sorry for the delay, my first week back was hectic but I’m good now, thank you

“Well, given that the AG team we knew was murdered, introducing someone new from the AG, as well as Vikram or Rita becoming bad guys, would certainly be plausible, even if kind of predictable options. I absolutely love that you thought about the Mayor and the Judge! Most casual watchers may not remember them but I guess a good intro could sell it. I’ve been thinking that the people in the fandom who chose to boycott “The GDS” actually completely missed Mason’s first appearance ^^ (NSA)

In my opinion, tying up Castle’s disappearance with LokSat was a great closure for this arc. I’m one of those who would have preferred a fake separation from the beginning, not just once Castle called Kate out on it again. And while it was not OOC, I personally didn’t really think there was character growth in how they kept things from each other (Kate in S8 and Castle during his disappearance) instead of investigating together like they did in S6, even though they both had their reasons. (NSA)

I mean, in 8x02, Castle and the boys had already heard of the term LokSat, they just didn’t know yet Allison Hyde’s death was not a suicide. You seem to be mentioning the end of 8x15, and that was a nice realization from Kate indeed (although belated). I do get how your take on S8 makes it likeable for you. I really like your idea of changing the voice over, and would maybe just keep the last part with “Every writer…” It would have been a nice and pretty simple way to remove all doubts alright

And I may be repeating myself here, but don’t worry about your ramblings, and never dare thinking you’re annoying either, I for one always find your commentaries very insightful ;) On your take on 3x01, I do love Caskett’s capacity for forgiveness and how they overcome their hurt feelings in order to be able to keep working together. As you could see, I cited 2x01 and the Limey, so I can take heartbreak depending on the circumstances. (NSA)

I think this aspect was okay for me in 2x01 because Beckett wasn’t hurt for romantic reasons, and her reactions were in line with S1 (except for the very end of the ep, great scene by the way). On the other hand, there was this sting accompanying Kate’s banter during most of 3x01, which made me feel uneasy at times, and which was kind of a step back, even if understandable? I have to say I was still reeling from the shock of the S2 finale myself when I watched “A Deadly Affair”. (NSA)

In “The Limey”, Kate and Castle were both deeply heartbroken but reading fics about this arc early on helped me be at peace with the episode. For example, I believe the first multichapter I have ever read was “In Some Corner” by Liv Wilder. I like to think neither of them went really far with their SO and Colin is still way more classy than Erik Vaughn. As for details about the other eps, I’m unfortunately gonna have to postpone the discussion. Until next time! (NSA)”

Response under the cut.

Well, I’m glad you survived your hectic first week back and things have calmed down now. And thank you, for the well wishes. The acupuncture so far hasn’t done much besides worsen my pain but that was to be expected and I’m hoping that, with time, it will help to improve my symptoms. Also, no need to apologize, I’m sure we’ve all experienced such a thing.

Agreed. I’m not saying that it would have been the best option (I’m generally terrible at coming up with identities for big bads *side eyes my S9 episode*) but rather than I think a lot of alternative options would have been better accepted by the fandom, if not the casual viewer (which is just as important, I simply don’t know they felt about the finale so it’s hard to say if they liked Mason or would have preferred an alternative). But I do most certainly think that fandom attitude towards The GDS, both those who simply found it to be a rather boring episode, like me, and those who hate it because Stana wasn’t in it, worsened the attitude towards the finale. In part, for sure, because a lot of people just didn’t know Mason, and in part because tying the bad guy back to a single episode which a lot of people dislike is just not the ideal move.

Imo, tying up Castle’s disappearance with LokSat was the only thing that gave Castle’s disappearance any semblance of meaning besides the like two episodes they spent recovering in early S7. I like that they tied it in in a way that added, imo, validation to the separation by presenting Castle’s knowledge that she wouldn’t be able to let it go, albeit not that she would leave him. While I understand the desire for solely a fake separation, I don’t think such an arc would have had the same emotional impact on the characters, namely Beckett. Forgive the plug of my own GIFset, but I think this exemplifies the character growth I perceive. Kate realizing those things was, imo, important and tied in well with her character, and, again simply in my opinion, wouldn’t have been possible had she had Castle at her side, because it simply would have mirrored past experience without showing her the lengths to which those metaphorical wounds would push her. And the separation forced her not only to see that, but to learn to face it in order to save/continue her marriage.

Well, I’m certainly glad you forgive my ramblings, because evidently I’m not very talented at diminishing them.

I can see how 2x01 and 3x01 contrast in a way that you would enjoy the latter less. I also think there’s a different level to their emotions, if that makes sense. Like, in 2x01, she’s heartbroken, but also really angry at him, perhaps both for digging into her mother’s case and for hurting her, on a more emotional level, by doing so. Whereas in 3x01 she’s mostly heartbroken and angry with him for causing that, by my perception, at least. I actually really like The Limey, too. Their dynamic of mutual jealousy all the while both believing the other stopped caring is, dare I say it, fun to watch, but remains heartbreaking due to the pain they both evidently feel.

I look forward to hearing details about the other eps.

Until next time, NSA!

Callie xx

[nazarite-lau]

OUR GENERATION’S BIGGEST STRUGGLE: STILLNESS Written By Callie Opper, USA For most of my life, I struggled with being still. Being an extrovert made it hard to say no to people. I would push myself to do anything and everything for others, and failed to make time to simply be silent. In college, I surrounded myself with the busyness of life and let it get in the way of my silence before the Lord and a deep intimacy with a Savior that heals, restores and makes everything new. But God has this painful yet beautiful way of stopping me dead in my tracks when I least expect it, and that’s what He has been doing in my heart over the past six months. Towards the end of my time in college, I hit a wall. I couldn’t give to others as well anymore as my energy was spent. Everything around me seemed to become a hurdle to jump over—ministry, school, and work.I had lost touch with who I was and who God made me to be. When I realized how emotionally and physically drained I had become, God started revealing to me that that it’s not selfish to say no. And that when I don’t give myself breathing room to just sit in His presence, I lose sight of what matters. I think stillness is a foreign word for many in my generation. We are consumed with being busy—we try to push ourselves past our limits because we fear missing out, or we are immersed in our phones, social media, and everyday distractions. We so often let the chaos of life surround us that we fail to see the value of resting in God’s presence by spending time in prayer and gaining strength and wisdom through His Word. Sometimes I think we get comfortable in that noise because we’re scared of what God can do through the silence. It’s precisely in the places of stillness that God remakes us, leads us to do things we might not want to do, rewires our hearts and passions, and ultimately changes us. Sometimes that process is painful, so we avoid it all together. But it’s often in those places that we find God. When I prioritize spending time in His Word, I deepen my understanding of how to live. He reveals Himself to me through the wisdom, encouragement, and strength found in His truth. Through quiet time, He shows me how to live well, love others the way He loves them, and become a true servant. The more time I spend in prayer and saturate myself in His Word, the more the distractions of everyday life seem to fade. God wants to be the loudest voice we hear. He longs to be with us and for us to meet with Him in the places where we experience Him most fully. He wants us to find contentment in sitting in His presence alone.God longs to comfort and restore the broken pieces of our lives as we rest in Him. God longs for us to depend on Him. God desires His children to listen to Him, to soak up His endless love for them, to rest in His peace, and to seek His radiant glory. That’s when we can marvel at His glory surrounding us—His strong but gentle Spirit demonstrated in the wind, His beauty and power radically revealed in all of creation, His grace and faithfulness seen through the abundance of His blessings, and His creativity displayed in the canvas of the colors He paints in the sky. When I first started to truly marvel at who God is and His creation, I was reminded that the Creator of the Universe knows my name, sees me, and pursues me intimately. If the God of all of Creation chooses to see and know the most inward parts of my being, then He deserves nothing less than my time and affection. So, find your place—find where you encounter God most fully. Create that space, savor those silent moments, and regularly meet Him in that place. I found my space of silence in the wilderness. Protect it, schedule that time, and don’t compromise it for anything or anyone. Prioritize those moments so that He can fill you. Let Him show up. Let Him change you. Every day, God is teaching me that there is beauty in silence—when we let go of the chaos in this world and create the space for Him to show up and fill our hearts with His Spirit. He is not finished with us, He never stops remaking us, He never stops developing our passions, never stops directing us where to go, and will never stop making everything new. The more I have sat in His presence, studied His Word and sought Him out in prayer, the more He has changed the direction of my life—by taking things from me that I wouldn’t let go of and allowing tragedy and hardships into my world. But the more I wrestled with Him through those things and in those storms, the more I realized that He was rearranging my heart to see Him even more clearly and to teach me that beauty can be birthed out of anything ugly. Through my stillness with God, He continues to define what my purpose is. The more we depend and rest in the stillness of His presence, the more we see Him and the more we hear from Him. Be silent, for He will show up. “The Lord will fight for you, you need only be still.” (Exodus 14:14)