#but only about halfway through the first book

[riddles-n-games]

Last Christmas I Gave You My Heart

Pairing: Avery and Jameson Summary: Avery has finally gotten downtime to actually settle for the holidays. It's her first Christmas at Hawthorne House and with a new boyfriend. Jameson and her are still figuring things out; can they help each other through the muddle of the last few weeks? Length: Moderate Story Type: One Shot

Tag List: @hathorneheiress, @whatsamongus, @xoxo-lenah, @charsoamerican, @thecircularlibrary, @elif-in-wonderland, @jamcarven, @silly-little-gooses, @mafiasliege, @lyrakanefanatic, @nothankyou3333, @inmyheaddd, @downrightbooks, @no1bookgirl, @elysianwayy77, @ariscats, @never-enough-novels, @goldi-1-graysons-version, @apollospoems, @x-liv25-jamieswife, @anintellectualintellectual, @aaal-iz-well

A/N: Hey guys, Merry Christmas! It was about time we actually had some holiday set fics and what better way than to dedicate it to the couple that started it all? I was inspired by one passage in Secret Santa from Games Untold and so we go back in time to where it all started for Averyjameson, at the most wonderful time of the year. Enjoy! Warning, it's looooooooooooooooooonnnnnnnnnnng.

  “I keep thinking about last Christmas. You were still recovering from the coma.”

    Last Christmas, we hadn’t played Secret Santa.

    Last Christmas, we’d been together, but I hadn’t been his and he hadn’t been mine the way we were now.

ONE YEAR AGO

    It seemed to be his wish and purpose to mask this expression with a smile; but the latter played him false, and flickered over his visage so derisively, that the spectator could see his blackness all the better for it. Ever and anon, too, there came a glare of red light out of his eyes; as if the old man’s soul were on fire, and kept on smouldering duskily within his breast, until, by some casual puff of…

    My throat was starting to feel dry so I carefully reached over for the water bottle. Xander’s Holly Jolly Hot Chocolate Marshmallow Surprise was already halfway gone and I wanted to savor it for as long as I could. There were also only four marshmallows left, to my dismay. In addition, while my plate of sweets was still relatively full, it was already devoid of my favorites, chocolate cupcakes, even though Libby had added extras for that very reason. They never stood a chance and now without them, the plate looked agonizingly empty.

    I unscrewed the cap and brought the bottle to my lips, never taking my eyes off the page.

    … passion, it was blown into a momentary flame. This he repressed as speedily as possible, and strove to look as if nothing of the kind had happened.

    Once hydrated, I put it back down and grabbed a cookie, stuffing it in my mouth before I grabbed another sticky note, taping it on the little desktop attached to the recliner. It was convenient compared to my usual tactic which was using a textbook as a hard surface to write on when I didn’t want to sit hunched at my desk. Grayson would have argued there was no difference where I sat as both resulted in bad posture. 

    I finished off the page and kept the book splayed open as I jotted down my newest annotations for the chapter. When done, I put the sticky note in the free margin and slid the book toward me, flipping to the next page.

    For some time, I continued on with no annotations since there wasn’t anything of note. 

    Or was there, as it rather seemed, a circle of ominous shadow moving along with his deformity, whichever way he turned himself? And whither was he now going? Would he not suddenly sink into the earth, leaving a barren and blasted spot, where, in due course of time, would be seen deadly nightshade, dogwood, hen-bane, and whatever else of vegetable wicke-

    A gasp escaped me as the book toppled off the desktop from my lax grip but luckily my arm reflex was fast enough to grab it before it fell to the floor. But, of course, that still came with a price.

    “Damn it.” I lost my spot on the page. I quickly leafed through familiar territory until I got to the newer stuff I just covered. Thankfully, I realized that I had stopped just a page or two after the start of a new chapter. When I found it, I searched for keywords from what I remembered reading then leaned back in the chair to get comfortable. Before I continued reading, my eyes drifted to the fire in the hearth to the garland decorating the mantle and the antique clock sitting atop it. 9:15, the clock read. It was getting late. 

    I sighed. The day had been long; Alisa occupied me with more papers relating to my emancipation alongside briefings for the Hawthorne Foundation and upcoming events. However, even with all the paperwork, I somehow managed to help Libby bake cupcakes and other holiday desserts, got roped into Xander’s Christmas experiments, and also had some shooting practice with Nash. After it all, I escaped into the circular library to one of the adjoining rooms for some relaxing and to get on with my English reading. 

    In part, I knew that all of this was to keep me distracted from my traumatic ordeals from the past few weeks. While I was pushing for it because I didn’t want to be wallowing in those memories and all the questions that came with them, I was still tired. I needed this. 

    My gaze drifted to the rest of the room, to really take it in for the first time in hours. There was a Christmas tree in the corner, bookshelves lining the walls, a large desk in the back, and another sitting area. It was cozy and with all the Christmas decor, it felt like a Christmas card came to life. Mom would have love- No. Don’t think about it. It’s just gonna hurt you. I blinked back the sudden onset of tears and took steady breaths to keep from crying. But it was too late; my imagination was conjuring up projections of my mom sitting in the opposite chair, making her move on a chessboard, teasing me about doing homework when I could have been taking an epic nap. 

    I shook my head and swiped at my eyes as I leaned over to grab another cookie. I munched on it slowly and turned back to the book. 

    … wickedness the climate could produce, all flourishing with hideous luxuriance? Or would he spread bat’s wings and flee away, looking so much the uglier, the higher he rose towards heaven? “Be it sin or no,” said Hester Prynne bitterly, as she still gazed after him, “I hate the man!” She upbraided herself for the sentiment, but could not overcome or lessen it. Attempting to do so, she thought of those long-past days, in a distant land, when he used to emerge at eventide from the seclusion of his study, and sit down in the fire-light of their home, and in the light of her nuptial smile. He needed to bask himself in that smile, he said, in order that the chill of so many lonely hours among his books might be taken off the scholar’s heart. Such scenes had once appeared not otherwise than happy, but now, as viewed through the dismal medium of her subsequent life, they classed themselves among her ugliest rememb-

    “Avery?” I heard my name being called and I jolted. 

    The question was followed up by a tentative knock on the door. “Heiress?” Jameson.

    “Come in,” I called out.

    The door knob turned and a resounding click later, a dark-haired Hawthorne was standing in the doorway smiling softly at me. He stood there for a beat, awkwardly shuffling his feet and scratching his side as if waiting for a signal or something. Odd. I beckoned with my head for him to come in. It took him another second before he actually made a move. 

    I closed my book and turned to properly face him, flashing him a bright smile in greeting. “Hey, barely saw you today. What have you been up to?” 

    Jameson didn’t reply but clearly what I said put a little more spring in his step. As he got closer, a familiar glint appeared, the kind he got when he was thinking up something clever and his usual smirk came back. When he was finally close enough, he spoke, taking on a poetic tone.

    ‘‘Twas a few nights before Christmas, when all through the House, not a creature was stirring, not even the heiress on her couch.”

    “Not a couch but go on.” He grinned, undeterred.

    “But every so often she’d look to the clock and run a hand through her hair, anxious to know if her devastatingly handsome boyfriend would soon be there.” I rolled my eyes but didn’t miss the way he punctuated the word boyfriend. It sent a shiver down my spine. 

    “She was snug as a bug by the hearth with a book that needed to be read, while thoughts of his potential mischief that day dashed through her head. With an exasperated sigh and a hot chocolate sip, she continued to read all the while thinking how she was going to give him lip, when all of a sudden he burst through the door with his usual swagger, looking rather dapper,” he winked when I snorted at the sheer arrogance, “and sat in the chair beside her to ask her what was the matter.”

    With that end of verse, he plopped into the opposite chair all the while looking terribly pleased with himself. Note to self: learn how to curb this man’s ego. While I admired it at times, if we were going to be in a relationship, I was gonna have to bring his smugness down a few notches. I eyed him carefully.

    “Jameson Winchester Hawthorne.”

    “Avery Kylie Grambs.” The bastard dared to give me that shit-eating grin of his.

    “What did you do?” And more importantly, what are you hiding? 

    “Nothing.” I arched an eyebrow. He chuckled and shook his head. “Can’t believe even for a second that for once I might not have been up to trouble?” My eyes narrowed at him suspiciously.

    “Prior instances dictate otherwise.” And Oren was just outside for back up reconnaissance. His expression morphed into a guilty smile that looked anything but remorseful. I pursed my lips and sighed loudly. “What am I going to do with you?”

    “I don’t know. Hopefully run away with me on a grand adventure.” 

    “Mm. Sounds delightful. But unfortunately, as you yourself said, I have a book to read.” 

    “What is it?” I held the book up. “Scarlet Letter? You really can’t resist Hawthornes, eh?”

    “Not my fault the school curriculum is also obsessed with you,” I grumbled.     

    Jameson chuckled again before growing quiet. Just like that, the playfulness died down and we settled into silence. Both of us turned to look at the hearth. The pleasant crackle of the flames coming from the fireplace and steady ticking beat of the clock were the only ambient noise in the room.

    None of us said anything for a little while but it felt like its own eternity, like a tension was building but not an uncomfortable one. I peaked at Jameson from the corner of my eye, noticing that his smile had faded and looked rather solemn. His eyes glowed an inviting emerald in the firelight. He looked deep in thought, about what, I didn’t know. Suddenly, I picked up on movement coming from his end and it was getting closer to me. Looking down, I realized it was his hand reaching out to my right one that was lax on the armrest.

    Though I saw it coming, I still startled a bit when I felt his fingers brushing against mine. “Sorry.” 

    He didn’t say anything, just continued to do what he was doing and gently took my hand in his. I let him. Looking up, I saw that Jameson had scooted over to the edge of his seat, his eyes trained on our hands as he gently rubbed circles into my skin. I watched him and felt like I couldn’t breathe, terrified to break the spell of this moment, whatever this was. 

    “How are you?” His soft voice broke through my mesmerized daze and realizing he was now looking at me, that rare sincerity in his expression made me feel shy under his gaze. My heartbeat seemed to slow, making each cycle feel like the tension would burst any second and the rush of blood flowing was loud in my ears.

    “I’m okay,” I finally said. He didn’t seem satisfied but didn’t push. Jameson then brought my hand to his lips and kissed my knuckles but it made me wonder. What are you doing? Why are you?

    This wasn’t the first time where he dropped the pretense and turned tender. In the last few weeks, there have been many times where, when we were alone, he’d randomly become gentle and considerate, throwing me for a loop. It was certainly unusual.

    And surprisingly, even though it was happening often, it caught me off guard every time, more so than anything going on these days. We’d been together like usual but my brain still hadn’t really given the thought we were in a relationship until he did something like that. I hadn’t really processed our new status in general with all that’s been going on but I clung to our normalcy like a lifeline. 

    “She told him there was nothing to worry about, but he could see hovering over her head was a gray cloud of doubt.” He looked at me with arched brows. “He was there for whatever she had to say, even if it took an entire day.”

    I smiled and squeezed his hand. “Really, I’m okay. I’m just tired and I don’t want to think about the last few weeks at all. Actually, I was planning on asking Alisa if she could find me a good therapist in the New Year.”

    “That’s good,” he said encouragingly.

    I sighed before continuing, “Thank you for being here for me. I know it’s not your usual style but…” 

    “Maybe, but, I told you that if you chose me, this would mean something. You mean something to me, Avery. I just didn’t know this-us-would happen so soon. That was definitely something I wasn’t counting on.”

    A smirk played on my lips. “Oh, but you were expecting us to get together at some point?”

    Jameson smiled sheepishly. “Only if you could resist my charm for so long.” I guffawed as he rolled his eyes.

    “No, but um, you’re right. I didn’t expect this either. If you had asked further down the line, I don’t think I would have said no then either. But what happened, happened; we can’t change that,” I paused and took a breath, “And honestly, I wouldn’t want to. As cliche as it sounds, we do have our future ahead of us and we get to make decisions together now.”

    “Wow, just wow. That was so motivational. Would you mind skipping a grade so you can be valedictorian for my class next June?”

    “I mean, I could but I don’t think Xander would like that very much.”

    “And why does my little brother take precedence over your boyfriend?” There it was again but I didn’t focus on the way the word made my heart skip a beat.

    “Because he’s already gotten attached to my hip and betrayal would break his precious little heart. Oh, and, he’s promised to stash away 10% of Mrs. Laughlin’s blueberry scones if I swore allegiance to his robots.”

    “Fair enough. That’s Xan for ya,” Jameson said fondly.

    “Yeah. And what about you, Clement Moore? How much of that did you have rehearsed?”

    He smiled shyly and looked down. “Just the first bit. I can make up stuff pretty quickly. The old man used to read to me when I was younger and I liked rhyming words so when I couldn’t sleep I would try to make up as many rhymes as I could until I did. I also used to sleepwalk.” My eyebrows shot up. “Yup. I know.”

    “I can imagine that. Sounds like a very Jameson thing. I-”

    “Um, Heiress, sorry to cut you off but I have to ask you something.” I blinked, taken aback. “Be honest with me, does it bother you when I refer to myself as your boyfriend? I saw the way your eyes widened.”

    “I mean, aren’t you?” A nervous laugh came out as I wasn’t sure what to say.

    “Technically, yes. But I’m not forcing you to call me that or anything. To me, what’s important is what you’re comfortable with.” My heart swelled. This boy.

    “I actually hadn’t given it much thought. With all that’s been happening, whenever our, um, this flits through my head, I would freak out and my mind just didn’t know how to address it. Not that I don’t want to think about us but it’s like a visceral reaction which I hate.” Fearing I said too much I shut my mouth and with bated breath, waited for his reaction. I expected disappointment but was relieved to find no judgment. No, I was met with understanding instead. He squeezed my hand this time and I exhaled slowly.

    Moments like these made me forget he was just Jameson and reminded me that he was now… something more. We became “official” with a coin toss and a kiss then continued doing what we always did. Everybody knew we were together, we didn’t make that a secret, done deal. There just wasn’t a label. And yet, I still felt it in every way that mattered. 

    Except, I wasn’t sure how to express that to him as he was wary about his brother despite Grayson backing off. However, we had to figure other things out between us first. I may be ready to be bold but being bold and wanting to be bold were two different things.

    Part of that was becoming his type of reliable with loyalty being highest priority. I couldn’t change what Emily did, that I knew, but I could help him move past that. Jameson had been doing that for me so much recently and I couldn’t be more grateful. It was hard to believe but the boy who’d played at indifference was also the one who came with his heart on his sleeve, offering to dive headfirst if I chose him. 

    This was the same boy now holding my hand, checking on me because he was worried. What a difference two months made. I knew immediately behind the facade, there was a compassionate young man with a good heart, he just didn’t believe it. I hoped I could change that. 

     With that in mind, I turned back to him. “To dispel any misconception right now; I know what I was saying yes to. I did think about that. A lot. Being with you, being together has been such an important part of my day and it keeps me sane. And-” My voice cracked suddenly, surprising me. “And…”

    “Heiress?” My eyes landed on his concerned face, darting over each feature and taking in the details until I was swept into the memory of the day with the postcards. 

    The hidden letters. The words of longing. Toby. Sarah who was actually Hannah. The same forward as backward. Hannah, oh Hannah. My mother being described through someone else’s eyes. Their love story. Me wanting to be left alone. Jameson being the first to address that. Jameson ushering everyone out. Jameson leaving. Jameson giving up on a clue. Jameson putting aside the mystery. Jameson. Jameson. Jameson.

    A sob escaped me. My hand flew over my mouth in reflex. I didn’t understand why but another one followed and another. Jameson was in front of me in a flash. His arms wrapped around me as my vision blurred with tears. The last thing I did register was my nose pressing against something hard but covered by a soft material and my eyes fluttered shut, letting the tears fall.

    I didn’t know how much time passed but the tears felt never ending, my cheeks were sticky and the sobs coming out were shallow gasps. Images of my mom danced through my mind, especially those from the last Christmas with her. That morning she’d been wearing a robe over her pjs with a steaming mug of coffee in her hand, hair loose for once, all excited as she slid a wrapped present over the counter toward me. It had been a book I wanted, special edition, which I scolded her for but Mom had laughed it off, bringing me into a hug and wishing me a Merry Christmas. But most memorable had been her luminous smile, so joyous and bright that it made our home feel that much warmer. I inhaled sharply as my eyes snapped open.

    “Mom. Mom. Why’d you have to go?” I whispered, breathless. 

    “She was sick, Heiress. But I bet she fought every day to be with you.” 

    “Mom, I want my Mom! I need her. And Toby, Toby… H-He left me and I needed him. He left me. I needed him. I told him not to go but he said he couldn’t stay. I-” I hiccuped a sob and felt another onslaught coming.

    “I know. I’m sure he wanted to but your safety means to him more. It does me too.” And just like that a fresh damn of tears broke through and I was dry heaving with the unrelenting heavy sobs that came wave after wave after wave. But through it all, Jameson never let me go.

    When I finally came to, I realized I quite literally used Jameson’s shoulder to cry on and the soft material had been his green cashmere sweater that was now soaked. As I swiped at my crusted eyes, I said, “Sorry about your sweater.” 

    He smiled and shrugged. “I don’t mind. It clearly served a good purpose.” That got him a weak laugh from me. Jameson slowly brought up a hand and wiped at a stray tear before leaning down to kiss my forehead. I watched him warily as he pulled away and frowned when I saw him pull out a handkerchief from his pocket. He used it to gently wipe at the tear tracks on my cheeks.

    Once he finished I brought it up. “Since when do you have a need for handkerchiefs, Mr. Darcy?”

    He chuckled. “Since I had to start offering to wipe away the tears of young ladies who have been most unconsolable by any other actions. Don’t worry, I don’t make a habit of stealing my brother’s brooding English gentleman aesthetic too often.” I couldn’t help but laugh too.

    “Are you feeling better now?” 

    I nodded. “Yeah. Just didn’t think I had that in me.”

    Jameson looked thoughtful for a moment before bringing his hand up again and caressing my cheek. I leaned into it. “You know, far be it from me to tell you what you do or don’t need, but I think you’ve needed to do that for a while. As you said, so much has happened in the last few weeks which your brain hasn’t had time to process and instead it just kept pushing it all aside until this moment.”

    “I guess. I just… I miss my mom. I’ve been getting better at acknowledging the fact that she’s, you know… gone after these two years but now all that we’ve found out, it just brought back that feeling so much stronger. And it feels like I’m back at square one.” He nodded solemnly. 

    “Yup, that seems to be the power of grief. There are days when I feel like the old man is still around and like he’s just about to pop out from any corner. Then I remember he’s not and I lose it. I go into the passages and just walk until I get out and go to the next one until I inevitably end up on the roof.” 

    I sighed. “I think she would have liked this place. As weird as everything is about you Hawthornes, this seems like her kind of place.”

    He huffed amusedly. “Hypocritical much?”

    “Potato potahto.” Cue eye rolling. “And I think she would have liked you too.” Jameson looked at me curiously. “Yeah, she would have loved your spontaneity. You two would get along. I think you’d enjoy playing our games and I can see her coming up with more. Although, you’d probably make me go crazy and wonder what I unleashed on the world.” 

    “At least I know I’d be on your mom’s good side.” I snorted. “Isn’t that a good thing?”

    “Maybe. But then she’d drop not so subtle hints and I would give in eventually because I know she’s right. Don’t think for a second I wouldn’t make you work for it.”

    “I don’t doubt it.” 

    “Good. But most of all, I think she’d love your compassion.” 

    There was silence and then a sharp inhale. “Heiress…”

    “You are good. You have a good heart, Jameson Hawthorne.” I didn’t leave room for arguing and narrowed my eyes at him for good measure. Whether he liked it or not, I had told the truth and I was going to make him believe it. “Say what you want but I’m going to repeat it until you believe it. I’ll do what I have to, no matter how long it takes.”

    As I finished my grand declaration, he had the audacity to smirk. “Anything?” 

    “Anything within reason,” I amended with a scowl. He chuckled and then rose up.

    “While I’m sure you will and I will more than likely accept defeat one day, there is something you could do for me.”     “And what would that be?” I asked suspiciously.

    “Well, with it being the holidays and since it’s our first Christmas together, would you mind joining me under the mistletoe, Miss Grambs?” I blinked as I watched him take out a sprig of mistletoe from his sleeve. 

    He went to the fireplace and somehow tied it to the garland. I got up from my recliner and walked towards him. As soon as I got within range, one of his arms wrapped around my waist and pulled me into him as my hands instinctively went on his chest. Jameson then brought his free hand up and brushed hair out of my face before cupping my cheek. I gazed at his face all the while and admired the way he looked in the soft glow of the fire. 

    “May I?” I nodded. Slowly, he leaned down and tentatively connected his lips to mine. I closed my eyes and got lost in it, entertaining the fantasy of the mistletoe kiss. I cupped the back of his neck and brought my hand into his hair. His hold at my waist tightened ever so slight. It was slow and gentle and perfect. Too perfect. But even so, just for a moment, I let myself believe we were perfect.

    When we parted, I opened my eyes and looked at him, expecting him to be looking back but his eyes were shut. “Jameson?” 

    “Hmm?”

    “You ok?” 

    “Yeah. Just taking it in Heiress.” When he opened his eyes, he wore a soft smile that made me feel shy again. He kissed the side of my head. “Thank you for that.”

    “Oh. You’re welcome,” I said bashfully. 

    He hummed a reply before speaking up again, “So, what did you think? Does it fulfill your expectation of a mistletoe kiss?”

    I shrugged. “I’ve never really cared about that tradition let alone thought about what it’d be like.”

    “Fair enough. But I do hope I set a standard for you now.” My eyebrows raised in bemusement. “Hey, you’ve got to let me have something to brag about.” I rolled my eyes. 

    “What I would like to know is where you got that sprig in the first place.”

    “All in due time, all in due time. Patience is an arduous virtue one must learn but conquer nonetheless.”

    “Stop philosophizing about something you don’t even have the skill set for.”

    “Well, miss, less questions, more kissing. Simple as that.” 

    “Practice what you preach then, Hawthorne. All I’m hearing is wor-” He shut me up with another kiss and then broke away just as quickly but hovered only a breath away from mine, teasing me before I put a hand to his collar and tugged sharply for him to get on with it. I felt him smile against my mouth and I stood on tiptoe, returning it in kind. We shared a few more kisses, a few playful ones and some just short pecks.

     The next time we pulled apart, we were both breathing hard. As Jameson recovered, he ran his fingers through my hair and smiled thoughtfully at me. “What?”

     He shook his head. “I was just thinking, despite all the shit that happened this year, turns out it was still a good one. You’re here with me even though I didn’t think that after…” I nodded in understanding.

    “Yeah, I get that.” What started out as a terrible year in the trenches with Libby and Drake turned into one of the biggest blessings even with its drawbacks. I had Jameson now and that was all that mattered. As I turned back to him, he pulled me into a warm hug. For a moment we stood like that, just enjoying the comfort it brought before he loosened his hold and broke the silence.

“With a mistletoe sprig and a firelit kiss, the couple started to reminisce, thinking about all that was and all that could be, knowing now they’ve truly become a we, there was room for new merriness and bliss while hoping it would be a very good first Christmas.”

    “Whoa there, Sir Moore. What happened to the rest of the poem?” 

    “Eh, we already got to the good part. Plus, it takes a lot longer when you’re the one trying to make up the rhymes to fit in with the preexisting structure.” 

    “I thought you said you could make stuff up on the spot.” I giggled until he muffled the laugh by pressing his lips to mine again. “Mmmh.” He smirked when he pulled away. 

    “Be my guest, Heiress. Let's see what you got.”

    I grinned at the challenge. “Once he had finished his part and she admired for a time in his art, her thoughts turned forward, past the New Year’s grandness and wondered how they would fill up their blank canvas.”

    His eyebrows rose in surprise. “Impressive. Not bad, not bad. But definitely beginner’s luck.”

    “It’s alright not always being up to my speed, Hawthorne.” 

    “Fine, I shall concede just this once.” I smiled triumphantly. “Merry Christmas, Heiress.”    “Merry Christmas, Jamie.” His resulting smile had never been more beautiful or joyous than in that moment. When he leaned in to kiss me again, I really did wonder about the year to come and what it would bring. Let it be a good one, please.

   “Merry Christmas, Heiress.”

   “Merry Christmas, Jamie.” His resulting smile had never been more beautiful or joyous than in that moment. When he leaned in to kiss me again, I really did wonder about the year to come and what it would bring. Let it be a good one, please.

A/N: See you in the next one! Hopefully will get a few more out before the true end of holidays. Merry Christmas once more and Happy New Year to everyone!!!!!!

[nothing-in-the-ordinary]

"Rhysand reminds me of my Ex."

Is the comment that changed my mind about this series. See, I'd given my copy to my middle sister, Bekka, who loves DnD like me. She loved the first book, could not stop gushing about how cool Prythian sounds with all the different courts (she wants to live in Winter lol).

But then the books continued. She told me, halfway though Silver Flames, that she can't do it anymore. She can't read a story where the main character goes through the same or eerily similar abuses that /she/ suffered from her ex. At first I said, don't worry girl Tamlin doesn't show up much anymore. Her response?

"Tamlin isn't the problem, Rhys is! He's just like Ben."

Ben, for context, is her ex-fiancee. An alcoholic who would get black out drunk frequently, harassing and physically assaulting people is this state. He'd start fights in bars just because he could. He's been arrested for this 4 times, that ive seen, it's likely higher.

He controlled nearly everything she did. From when she went, to how she dressed. From what she ate, to the people she talked to. He almost completely isolated her from her family. Out of all of us, I was the only one still in contact. Likely because as the youngest of my siblings, I posed the least threat to his control. Our parents and oldest sister were cut off.

He was violently abusive. Bekka called us from the hospital on 3 separate occasions. The first time he'd shoved her down a flight of stairs at their apartment during an 'arguement' about bills. Then it was when he'd beat her and broken her arm for 'disrespecting his authority as a man', whatever that means. Finally, it was the car crash. He was road raging against another driver, speeding and swerving on the interstate. The crash totaled her car, and other drivers, and a third car that was also struck. It was then that she finally was convinced to leave.

Because that's the thing about manipulation. It's subtle, and it's effective. This man took years of her life, making her suffer all the way, and she stayed because he was clever and charming when he wanted to be. He'd convinced her that /we/ her family were the controlling ones, we were the ones trying to break them apart when he loved her so much.

10 years. 10 goddamn years! She lost 10 mother fucking years to that monster! Even more if you count the PTSD she still sees a therapist for. And it's not like leaving was easy. He refused to let her leave peacefully so we had to get the law involved. A mountain of evidence, a court hearing, and one horrified judge later, Bekka now has a permanent restraining order on the bastard.

All in all, people stan who they want to stan. I'm just asking, begging, pleading, with you to understand that characters like Rhysand are made real in people like Ben.

*i posted this with permission from Bekka to explain her story. she is healthy and happy now with a man who truly loves her.*

[pretend-theres-a-name-here]

I thought it could be cool to do like Jayce hanging out with Caitlyn, with the discussion turning to relationships and Jayce's feelings towards Viktor, possibly set during the episode 3 - episode 4 time skip.

Thanks for the suggestion!

A Realization

“He’s like my brother!” Jayce defended, and it wasn’t weak, it wasn’t.

It was the second time he’s had to tell Caitlyn that and she didn’t seem convinced. If you asked him how he found himself trapped in a debate about his own feelings he wouldn’t know what to tell you.

They were having their monthly night in, a time they both booked and set aside to curl up on Jayce’s couch, watch cheesy dramedies that neither would tell another soul they liked, eat pizza like their life depended on it and spend time together. Lately, the conversation has been turning to Jayce’s love life, or lack thereof, and Caitlyn was really pushing tonight. 

Every time she asked about his par—friend, a ‘how’s Viktor?’ sang way too suggestively in his opinion, he’d tell her it wasn’t like that. They were just partners, colleagues, friends, that was it. That was all they could be.

“Jayce, you’re like my brother,” Caitlyn grabbed his shoulders, forcing him to look at her, “I don’t feel this way about you, do you feel this way about me?” 

“W—I—I mean no, but that’s…that’s not…It’s different.” Ok maybe that was his only defense and maybe she had just completely disarmed him but that didn’t mean anything—that didn’t change anything!

Jayce was…fond of Viktor, of course he was, how could he not be when he spent nearly every day with him? When he sat back and just watched Viktor work, hunched over his desk or leaning against the whiteboard because he was too stubborn to reach for his cane, so determined on their dream.

Caitlyn was still holding on to him, “How’s it different, Jayce? Why is it different?”

Jayce thought about all the reasons it was the same, the instinct to protect him the same way he would Cait, the bond that formed so quickly after breaking into Heimerdinger’s office, but even that didn’t feel how it did with Caitlyn. So, he thought about all the ways it was different.

He thought about coming back to the lab late at night and finding Viktor passed out on his desk, walking him back to his room or guiding him to the couch when he wasn’t fully awake despite his insistence that he was fine and could keep working, how Viktor would push him away with no real intent behind the action but allow Jayce to help him anyway. He thought about the way Viktor laughed when they made a breakthrough and then thought about why his stomach flipped at the sound. He thought about how he had memorized Viktor’s voice without meaning to and how he was just waiting to hear it again every time they were apart.

When he looked up again, not even halfway through the list of ways this thing with Viktor was so different, special, he saw Caitlyn looking down at him with a knowing smile.

He sighed, flopping back against the couch and letting himself fall into her lap, “I think I like Viktor.” He mumbled, pulling a throw pillow over his face.

He felt her laugh, “I know.”

Jayce didn’t think this conversation would go anywhere in the future, no hope that the other man felt even a fraction of what he did, but he would find himself sitting in the same spot with the same girl, telling her all about their first date, their first ‘I love you’s. She would be the first to know all that happened, ‘a best friend’s right’ as she called it.

And later, on another monthly sleepover, he would show Caitlyn the ring tucked in a velvet box, hidden in his pocket for when the time was right.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Just a short one for this morning, if you’d like to make a request and help me out of writers block THIS is a list of what I write for.

[hollowed-theory-hall]

Regarding the Canonicity of the Harry Potter Games

Like, I love Hogwarts Legacy. I played it through to completion 4 times (I played a few sections more than that). But even though I really liked the game, and many of its characters, and I enjoyed playing it, I can't help but not consider it truly canon in the same universe of the books. I consider it, like, an alternate timeline than the books; where some of the worldbuilding elements and characters are canon to the books, but otherwise the story and many aspects of it (such as some of the worldbuilding and characters in the game) are not canon for me since they outright contradict the books.

(I would love to talk about Hogwarts Mystery and why I don't take its story and various game elements as canon either, unfortunately, I got too frustrated with the energy mechanic and didn't even finish 3rd year in the game so I don't feel like I know it enough to make a comprehensive post).

The main reason is that there are things that outright contradict what's written in the books. Such as the placement of certain locations in the castle (the castle in HL is gorgeous though):

1. The potions classroom isn't located in the dungeons near the Slytherin common room.

2. The greenhouses are referenced as being outside the school and not connected to the castle the way they are in the game:

Harry, Ron, and Hermione left the castle together, crossed the vegetable patch, and made for the greenhouses, where the magical plants were kept.

(CoS, Ch6)

4. The Owlery is inside the school, in the West Tower, specifically, and not a walk-off from the school (that's also a movies issue):

Harry He then climbed out of the portrait hole, up through the silent castle (held up only briefly by Peeves, who tried to overturn a large vase on him halfway along the fourth-floor corridor), finally arriving at the Owlery, which was situated at the top of West Tower.

(GoF, Ch15)

5. Many classrooms and offices aren't located correctly. For example, the DADA and the Transfiguration office windows should face the Quidditch Pitch:

dreadful though his final detention with Umbridge was sure to be, he had a distant view of the Quidditch pitch from her window and might, with luck, be able to see something of Ron’s tryout

(OotP, Ch13)

“Hmm ...” Professor McGonagall stood up and stared out of the window at the Quidditch field, just visible through the rain. 

(PoA, Ch9)

6. The above is also a problem with the location of the Quidditch pitch which should be near the lake:

Harry walked slowly along the deserted corridor, peering out of windows as he went. He could see people messing around in the air over the Quidditch pitch and a couple of students swimming in the lake, accompanied by the giant squid.

(OotP, Ch38)

7. The library in the game is on the ground floor (or below, since there are staircases going down to the library) and the restricted section is even lower in a basement level below the library. In the books, the library is on the 3rd and 4th floors, and the restricted section, specifically, is located on the 4th floor.

8. Again, this issue is also in the movies, but the doors to the Great Hall should be located to the right of the Entrance Hall. The Entrance Hall is described in quite detail in the books actually:

The entrance hall was so big you could have fit the whole of the Dursleys’ house in it. The stone walls were lit with flaming torches like the ones at Gringotts, the ceiling was too high to make out, and a magnificent marble staircase facing them led to the upper floors. They followed Professor McGonagall across the flagged stone floor. Harry could hear the drone of hundreds of voices from a doorway to the right — the rest of the school must already be here — but Professor McGonagall showed the first years into a small, empty chamber off the hall. They crowded in, standing rather closer together than they would usually have done, peering about nervously. [...] Feeling oddly as though his legs had turned to lead, Harry got into line behind a boy with sandy hair, with Ron behind him, and they walked out of the chamber, back across the hall [Enterence Hall], and through a pair of double doors into the Great Hall.

(PS, Ch7)

9. In general what's on each floor is incorrect. The one-eyed witch statue isn't on the third floor. The astronomy tower isn't the tallest tower (the headmaster's tower is taller). Myrtel's toilet should be near the DADA office on the second floor, not in the dungeons, etc.

10. You'd also notice in the game all the castle's windows are painted glass and you can't see outside through any of them. They are gorgeous, and it's definitely helpful for the sake of game performance, so I get why they did that, but in the books, it isn't so. Harry mentions looking out windows and seeing the grounds a lot.

(I would like to share the closest to canon map of Hogwarts I could make (which I made). It's an amalgamation of design elements from the movies, Hogwarts Legacy, and every quote I could find in the books regarding placements of various locations. Tumblr is just really bad with large high-resolution images 😭)

Then there are inaccurate world-building elements. (I'm not gonna count Basic-Cast and Levioso which are not real spells since they are clearly gameplay mechanics and aren't trying to be world-building accurate):

1. Horklumps are used in the Wiggenweld Potion in-game, even though Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them clearly states that Horklumps are useless as potion ingredients:

The Horklump is a favourite delicacy of gnomes but otherwise has no discernible use.

(Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them)

2. Matilda Weasley's existence makes no sense. By her red hair, Gareth Weasley's dialogue, and in-game letters, Matilda is stated to have been born a Weasley and didn't marry into the family. Hogwarts Legacy's art book confirms this. The reason this doesn't make sense is that Ginny Weasley is referred to as the first female born weasley in several generations.

Matilda is a professor who doesn't look very old in 1890, so she would've been born around 1,850s, let's say. Gareth is her brother's son, born in 1975-ish. In the game, a letter states Gareth has a sister, so that's zero generations with no female Weasleys. Septimus Weasley was born in the 1910s (his wife, Cederella, was born between 1915-1919). This makes him and his 6 older brothers, the next generation after Gareth, and the first generation no female Weasleys. Septimus is Arthur's father, making Arthur, his brothers, and his cousins the second generation without female Weasleys. And Arthur is Ginny's father. Two generations without female Weasleys wouldn't make Ginny the first female-born Weasley in several generations.

So, in the books' canon, Matilda and Gareth's younger sister, can't exist.

3. The entire Goblin Rebellion. Such a big, historical event would be remembered and referenced in the books the way other goblin rebellions and Grindelwald's war are mentioned. Not only that, but the ministry during the game has no reason to hide a goblin rebellion. It's a plot element in-game that makes no sense. It's not at all the same situation politically as in Harry's fifth year and the Ministry has no reason to cover it up (unless Rookwood is bribing someone, maybe?), so I don't get it at all.

Also, remember, Dumbledore starts Hogwarts in 1891, a year after the game. If this rebellion happened and the MC existed, Dumbledore would've likely known about it. A story like the MC's isn't just forgotten about over the course of less than the average wizard's lifetime. Not to mention the MC not being anywhere in canon or being referenced at all.

(what I'm saying is that the game should've chosen to take place further in the past and it would've solved a lot of continuity issues).

4. Ancient Magic. I know this is a game mechanic, but it's also a big part of the game's story — and it makes no sense with how we see magic in the HP books. When characters in the books refer to Ancient Magic, the kind of magic we see in the game is not what they are referring to. At all.

“ ‘Dragons are extremely difficult to slay, owing to the ancient magic that imbues their thick hides, which none but the most powerful spells can penetrate ...’ But Sirius said a simple one would do it. ...”

(GoF, Ch20)

Ancient Magic can refer to the natural magic of magical beings. The kind of magic that exists as part of nature and isn't wieldable. It's "ancient" since it's old and part of the natural world.

“But how to get at Harry Potter? For he has been better protected than I think even he knows, protected in ways devised by Dumbledore long ago, when it fell to him to arrange the boy’s future. Dumbledore invoked an ancient magic, to ensure the boy’s protection as long as he is in his relations’ care. Not even I can touch him there. ... Then, of course, there was the Quidditch World Cup. ...

(GoF, Ch33)

“But I knew too where Voldemort was weak. And so I made my decision. You would be protected by an ancient magic of which he knows, which he despises, and which he has always, therefore, underestimated — to his cost. I am speaking, of course, of the fact that your mother died to save you. She gave you a lingering protection he never expected, a protection that flows in your veins to this day. I put my trust, therefore, in your mother’s blood. I delivered you to her sister, her only remaining relative.”

(OotP, Ch37)

It can also refer to magic any powerful enough witch or wizard could do that was mostly forgotten. Both Voldemort and Dumbledore refer to the blood wards Dumbledore set up after Lily's sacrifice as "Ancient Magic" and I'm certain Dumbledore doesn't have the same abilities the MC in HL has — because no one does. These abilities don't exist in the books.

The ward is referred to as ancient magic becouse that's what it is — a mostly forgotten spell from very long ago — not a different kind of magic. Just old.

“Secondly, the castle is a stronghold of ancient magic. Undoubtedly Voldemort had penetrated many more of its secrets than most of the students who pass through the place, but he may have felt that there were still mysteries to unravel, stores of magic to tap.

(HBP, Ch20)

This again, uses the term "ancient magic" to refer to old forgotten magic (such as the Room of Requirement or the moving stairs at Hogwarts). Hogwarts is referred to as a stronghold of ancient magic not because the founders were like the MC in HL, but because they were very powerful wizards using magic that has been mostly forgotten since then. Any magic using runes (like a pensive) would be considered "ancient magic" in the book's universe because it's old. That's literally all ancient magic in the books means. Either "old and mysterious magic" or "natural magic of the world". It is not something a select few wizards can see and wield or a different type of magic.

5. The little hamlets around Hogwarts. I get why they are there (so the game could promote itself as an open-world) but they don't make sense. In canon, we are repeatedly told there aren't many wizard-only settlements and Hogsmead is one of the only ones. These little wizard hamlets make zero sense. Like, the very small ones which are basically two farms are fine, I can see wizard family farms like these existing. What I can't see is a larger hamlet, like Upper Hogsfeild existing so close to Hogsmead. It would not exist.

Before the Statute of Secrecy, most wizards lived in muggle towns, and after it, they still mostly stayed in muggle towns and the few wizard-only ones. The amount of wizard-only hamlets around Hogwarts in the game is honestly ridiculous for the books' world-building.

Again, I love the game, I'm writing this because I decided to boot HL up again to run around Hogwarts, but the game is not really canon. So, for the sake of analysis, I often discount the various games for this reason. They contradict book canon, and book canon comes first. Anyone can obviously do whatever they want, I'm just explaining why I occasionally discard game evidence, which is when it contradicts the books.

(There are world-building elements in the HL I do like, though. Such as the Hufflepuff Dark wizard who married a disowned Black daughter, I consider them canon since they're fun and don't contradict canon either, so they're fine).

[kay-elle-cee]

In Search of Something More Ch. 7 Supersized Snippet!

Well, despite my efforts, Chapter 7 of ISOSM will not be out by the end of the year. Between work and IRL commitments, the last 2 months have been really non-stop for me—I'm hoping things slow down just a bit in the early part of next year!

I'm going to stop promising dates for this chapter, but I will tell you I'm already about 3.3k into it, it will probably be over 5k, and other than a gift exchange fic that will go live on Jan 10 (that I've already written, just need to edit), this is my main priority writing-wise at the moment.

Thank you so much for your patience and kind words for this fic in 2024—it's truly more than I ever could have fathomed. I'm very excited for you to see what I have planned for Chapter 7...but for now, a little sneak peek :)

———

On Samantha’s third visit, she arrives with a few broadsides in hand—various ballads and folk songs that had been stashed away over the years—and the two scour through these and the Stinchcombe books until they land on a piece that’s upbeat enough for Samantha’s liking. Lily works her fingers over the keys and misses a few notes here and there, much to her friend’s delight.

“And here I was beginning to think you were perfect!” she laughs, leaning against the pianoforte.

Lily scoffs. “I told you at the start I was out of practice!”

“False modesty is real and a plague amongst our contemporaries, dear Lily. How was I to know you’d be truthfully modest?”

A small grin tugs at the corners of Lily’s mouth as eyes stay focused on the sheet music and her fingers begin playing the song again. “I suppose someone must be, to give the others cover.” It takes a moment for Samantha to catch her breath from laughing so hard and she’s only able to come in halfway through the song.

The two spend significant time around the instrument that day, and are well into their fourth tune, tears of laughter pooling in the corners of Lily’s eyes as Samantha makes her voice impossibly deep to sing in a more masculine voice, when they hear a chuckle from the doorway. Lily hits a wrong note and Samantha’s voice cracks on its lowest note while spinning around in surprise to find James leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed, an amused smile on his face as he watches the scene before him.

“Christ!” Samantha swears, hand flying to her chest as Lily’s fingers abruptly stop playing. “How long have you just been standing there? Whatever happened to announcing yourself?”

A brow raises, and Lily can see the mirth shining in his eyes behind the glasses. “Last I checked, it’s my house. Quite a likely place for me to be.” He strides into the room and takes a seat next to Lily on the piano bench, plucking a random key with a grin. “And as for how long I’ve been here, somewhere around ‘nor tarry for one bottle more’.” His eyes travel over to Lily, and she feels that warmth humming once more beneath her skin. “It seems you were having such fun I wasn’t noticed.”

“I cannot believe you hid her from us for so long, James,” Samantha reprimands. “Graham never plays pianoforte with me anymore!”

“I hope I’m not being relegated to simply an accompanist,” Lily chides playfully. “If so, I suppose I’ll just go back to wasting my days away in the library.”

“Well before you lock yourself away forever, the reason I came up here in the first place was to let you two know that I had Mrs. Jenkins setup tea in the garden. It’s turned into a beautiful day and I thought the two of you might like a change of scenery.”

“Oh,” Lily says, blinking in surprise. “Thank you, that’s very thoughtful.”

“He’s just tired of us monopolizing the breakfast room,” Samantha declares while donning her bonnet and tying it beneath the chin. “He’s just too polite to say it. It’s one of his favorite rooms.” 

Lily’s attention turns from Samantha to James, a slight frown creasing her brow. “You know you’re always welcome to join us.”

A warm hand slides gently over hers, not disturbing the instrument’s keys. “I know you’d have no objection to that,” he assures her. “But I’ve been enjoying watching the two of you becoming fast friends and I would hate to intrude. It is not”—here he throws a playful glare up at their guest—“about you monopolizing a single room in this massive house.”

Her eyes linger on the profile of his face—the strength of his jaw, the slant of his nose—and she feels inexplicably caught when he turns his attention back to her. The hand that still rests on hers is heavy and warm, and the swipe of his thumb as he looks into her eyes jolts her enough that she accidentally plays a note.

[balioc]

BALIOC'S READING LIST, 2024 EDITION

This list counts only published books, consumed in published-book format, that I read for the first time and finished. No rereads, nothing abandoned halfway through, no Internet detritus of any kind, etc. Also no children’s picture books.

(There were still so many children's picture books.)

(I've relaxed my standards a bit for this year. I've counted two graphic novels, and one text so short that it's basically just an illustrated short story. This doesn't particularly feel like cheating, and it doesn't seem to be lowering my standards generally. Next year, I may decide to count texts read on the Internet, so long as they're genuinely substantive in some way; we'll see.)

The Pilgrim of Hate, Ellis Peters

Weavers, Scribes, and Kings: A New History of the Ancient Near East, Amanda H. Podany

An Excellent Mystery, Ellis Peters

Moon Dark Smile, Tessa Gratton

The Raven in the Foregate, Ellis Peters

Demon Daughter, Lois McMaster Bujold

The Rose Rent, Ellis Peters

Bea Wolf, Zach Weinersmith

The Saint of Bright Doors, Vajra Chandasekera

The Hermit of Eyton Forest, Ellis Peters

Warlock, Oakley Hall

The Confession of Brother Haluin, Ellis Peters

The Heretic's Apprentice, Ellis Peters

Of Ghosts and Goblins, Lafcadio Hearn

The Potter's Field, Ellis Peters

Golden Hill, Francis Spufford

The Summer of the Danes, Ellis Peters

The Holy Thief, Ellis Peters

Ducks: Two Years In the Oil Sands, Kate Beaton

The Uncommon Reader, Alan Bennett

Brother Cadfael's Penance, Ellis Peters

Yumi and the Nightmare Painter, Brandon Sanderson

Ballet Shoes, Noel Streatfeild

Emma, Jane Austen

Lyorn, Stephen Brust

Magus: The Art of Magic From Faustus to Agrippa, Anthony Grafton

The Tainted Cup, Robert Jackson Bennett

Cannibalism: A Perfectly Natural History, Bill Schutt

The Lion of Boaz-Jachin and Jachin-Boaz, Russell Hoban

The Familiar, Leigh Bardugo

Unraveller, Frances Hardinge

Pilgermann, Russell Hoban

Breaking Hel, Miles Cameron

The Emperor's Sword, Christian Cameron

Ink Blood Sister Scribe, Emma Törzs

Out of Tales: Or, January, Meg Moseman

Chinese Buddhism: A Thematic History, Chün-fang Yü

Tress of the Emerald Sea, Brandon Sanderson

Intelligence: All That Matters, Stuart Ritchie

Perfume: The Story of a Murderer, Patrick Süskind

Ninefox Gambit, Yoon Ha Lee

Prince of the Godborn, Geraldine Harris

Children of the Wind, Geraldine Harris

The Dead Kingdom, Geraldine Harris

The Seventh Gate, Geraldine Harris

The Night Parade of 100 Demons, Marie Brennan

The Game of 100 Candles, Marie Brennan

The Market of 100 Fortunes, Marie Brennan

Aztecs: An Interpretation, Inga Clendinnen

Sand, Wolfgang Herrndorf

The Wood at Midwinter, Susanna Clarke

The Chains of the Earth, David Mealing

Plausible works of improving nonfiction consumed in 2024: 7

Balioc's Choice Award, Fiction Division: Perfume: The Story of a Murderer, Patrick Süskind

>>>> Honorable Mention: Warlock, Oakley Hall

Balioc's Choice Award, Nonfiction Division: Weavers, Scribes, and Kings: A New History of the Ancient Near East, Amanda H. Podany

>>>> Honorable Mention: Chinese Buddhism: A Thematic History, Chün-fang Yü

The Celephaïs Award for Mythopoesy With Which I Would Have Been Absolutely Obsessed Had I Read It As a Teenager, and, Let's Be Honest, It's Not Like I'm Not Obsessed Now: the Seven Citadels books by Geraldine Harris [Prince of the Godborn, Children of the Wind, The Dead Kingdom, The Seventh Gate]

The Emerald Champion's Award for "I've Cared About This Setting Since I Was Twelve and This Story Can't Possibly Be Canon, Oh Shit, There Was a Total Reboot and Now You're One of the People In Charge of the Canon?!": Marie Brennan's L5R novels [Night Parade of 100 Demons, Game of 100 Candles, Market of 100 Fortunes]

The Pepsi-Cola Award for "We Have Brandon Sanderson At Home": the Ascension Cycle books by David Mealing [Chains of the Earth, plus two earlier books read in previous years]

The Dumott Schunard Award for Advanced Queerness In the Field of Metaphysics, No Seriously, You Did Not Know That Fantasy Worldbuilding Could Be So Fundamentally Queer: Moon Dark Smile by Tessa Gratton

The Glandeco-Angelinian Award for Real Goddamn Outsider Art Made By a Real Goddamn Outsider Artist Who Is Definitely Thinking Thoughts That Stretch Beyond Your Trifling Mundane World: Out of Tales: Or, January by Meg Moseman

**********

This year was a lot better than it looks. I swear.

...the numbers are real bad, I know. 52 is the absolute bottom edge of "respectable" for a year's total-books-read count, for me, and no fewer than 11 of those were part of the same silly historical-mystery series. 7 is well below the absolute bottom edge of "respectable" for the nonfiction count.

But, given how shamefully little reading there was overall, there was a surprising amount of serious high-quality stuff with lasting value. Chinese Buddhism, Aztecs, and Weavers, Scribes, and Kings are all exactly what I want nonfiction tomes to be: each one left me with a sense that I understood a particular chunk of the world much better than I had before. I think any one of those three probably caused me to feel more educated than some entire years' worth of nonfiction reading. And on the fiction front, there was just a lot of excellence. Books like Pilgermann and The Saint of Bright Doors are flawed but also possessed of genuine literary greatness. Books like Of Ghosts and Goblins and the Seven Citadels novels are light-weight, but light-weight in the way that a faerie-gossamer cloak is light-weight; they possess genuine beauty that moves them into the realm of the transcendent. Even the usual genre-fiction filler stuff had a lot of semiprecious gems.

I'm still alarmingly bad at getting any reading at all done when I'm working on a serious writing project. I should figure out what I can do about that. Possibly it's time to bite the bullet and start listening to audiobooks when I drive.

[ode-to-fury]

Guys there will be absolutely no one who even comes close to getting this but Rhys from acotar and Kyle Haven from the liveship trilogy would have been just the absolute Best of Friends

[theartingace]

So after many people kept putting some very confusing posts somehow connect by a mysterious book series on my dash I finally borrowed Gideon the Ninth from the library and dear lord. I'm halfway through I was not expecting to love this strange conglomeration of settings, tropes and characters as much as I do. Excellent vibe, delightful writing style and use of first person, love this meathead enjoying her vacation locked in a haunted rundown murder-monastery very interested to see how literally any of the posts I have seen regarding this series winds up relating to what I have read so far.

[they-didnt-last]

anyone interested in talking about the iconic 2000's middle-grade-bordering-on-ya book series gallagher girls??

[hussyknee]

If you aren't reading KJ Charles's books I sincerely do not know what you're doing with your life.

[mintmentos]

I’m so sorry what is going on in the bridgerton books. Like where are my lavish descriptions of the dresses. The ballrooms. You’re telling me they danced a waltz. A dance ladies had to have permission to dance. And you were focussed on the conversation and not the intimacy of being held and moving as one round a ballroom while staring into your partner’s eyes like they’re the only person who exists??

[vt-scribbles]

Please RB for bigger sample size!

[aroaessidhe]

2024 reads / storygraph

Our Deadly Designs

book 2 in a Jewish YA fantasy duology set in a world of political unrest & war

following a girl who makes animal golems with illegal magic, who is struggling with the rising power of what may be a sentient spirit connected to her magical book

and a girl who competed in a dangerous horse race with a horse golem, to save her family from debt, and is now allying with the rebels and their revolution

meanwhile the heir they worked with is vying for power, as the city’s elite houses all search for the heir to the throne

demi/bi m/f romance and beginnings of a f/f/m QPR?

[continuousmeowing]

????AO3 MENTION IN THE BOOK IM READING?????WHAT??????

[unicornwithachainsaw83]

You know what? Fuck it. *makes Kingdom Keepers oc*

[terpia]

I'm reading Quicksand by Junichiro Tanizaki and god, it's such an interesting reading experience. I don't know what the censorship laws were like in Japan in the 1920s and how they/the culture of the time shaped the portrayal of certain topics in the novel, but reading a book from the 1920s that openly talks about sex, abortion and sexuality (and in my translation at least, straight up uses words like lesbian, homosexual, heterosexual, etc.) is such a novel experience.

Also, and I feel it's worth mentioning, every single character in this novel is fucking insane.