#its hard to be excited about the new book (which i am) because i now hate this fandom so much

[radiant--as-the--sun]

do people really just wanna be fans of the hunger games and not mention palestine at all? like honestly? do you really wanna just support fictional uprisings and fighting back against fictional oppression but don't actually give a shit about it in real life? did y'all genuinely learn and internalize nothing from this series????

[finelinefae]

the game [tennisplayer!harry x tennisplayer!y/n]

synopsis: y/n's desperate to play tennis and who better to coach her than her rival

word count: 6.7k

contains: enemies to lovers, set at a boarding school, jealous h, slow burn, angst, tennis rivals

a/n: this is the very first part of a new series that i am soooooo beyond excited to be writing !! it will most likely have 4/5 parts <333 enjoy !!!

. . .

Crestwood Academy was a prestigious boarding school with a mission to cultivate excellence in its students, many of whom went on to achieve great success in their respective fields. Nestled amidst rolling hills and lush greenery, it welcomed only the most accomplished families into its esteemed halls.

Y/N had attended Crestwood Academy since she was five, thanks to her father, who owned a country club and could afford the tuition. Her parents, strict and focused on success, were determined to give her the best education possible so that she could be the very best. Her face was always buried in a book or spending her days in the library, right up until the very last minute of its opening hours. 

It was her final year at Crestwood Academy before graduation. Y/N had been set on passing all of her exams at the top of her class so had been working extra hard. She studied English, maths, all three sciences, Latin, French and History as well as tennis. 

Y/N's parents had always urged her to pursue a career in the top industries. Despite her efforts to feign interest in that direction, her heart had always belonged to tennis ever since she first took up the sport at Crestwood.

She had competed plenty, winning all the academy trophies and medals. Her parents would visit whenever she competed in finals and congratulated her on winning but saw it as nothing but a hobby to participate in when she wasn’t studying. 

However, Y/N couldn’t deny herself the rush of playing knowing she’d have to part with the sport once she graduated. The career path of becoming a doctor was already laid out for her by her parents but she felt destined to follow a different path. 

Despite the fact she had applied to dozens of schools to study medicine, she still had one more option that had nothing to do with science at all. 

Every year, the academies hosted their own version of a grand slam in which the winning player received a scholarship and three years' worth of training from one of the top tennis academies in the world. Y/N longed to be at the top with the greats and she knew that this competition was the only way she could get there. 

For the most part, Y/N had been self-taught. She watched videos online and took notes from the Wimbledon matches she’d see on the television. Crestwood only had one sports coach who focused most of their time on the football team so if she was going to win the scholarship, she needed the very best. 

She sat on the bleachers, her book open in front of her, but her attention was drawn to the man on the court. The player’s movements were fluid and powerful, each action deliberate and precise. Yet, it was another man who held her gaze—a figure with an impassive expression, focused solely on his player.

When the match was over, Y/N slammed her book shut and walked towards the court after the players shook hands. Her eyes looked down at the limp in his step as he walked towards the cooler to grab a water bottle. 

It had been a while since she had last seen him. She remembered the proud look on his parent’s faces when he was pulled out of Crestwood eighteen months ago and went on to win a grand slam in Australia. She could still feel the intense jealousy that filled her as she watched the match on television whilst studying for her chemistry test that he was also supposed to sit had he stayed. 

Now he was here, back to his roots and maybe it had been fate because what she was about to ask him would determine her own path in the tennis career she longed for. 

His hair was slightly longer now, his brunette, touseled curls were swept to the side in a loose, dishevelled manner. He wore sunglasses to cover his eyes from the sunlight and a navy tracksuit paired with white vans. 

Seeing him brought back the once competitive emotions she had whenever she’d see him strut about the courts every lunchtime but she’d have to suppress those emotions, especially for what she was about to ask him. 

“Excuse me, Harry?” Y/N called out. 

He took a water bottle from the cooler and flicked off the cap before holding it to his lips and gulping it down. Y/N waited, crossing her arms as she did. “I’ve been waiting for you to show up.” Was the first thing he said. 

Y/N didn’t know what to say. It was unexpected to know that he had been waiting to see her, “I didn’t know you were part of the furniture on these courts,” He smirks and Y/N’s jaw ticks. “And you still sit in the exact same spot on those bleachers, to what? Admire me?”

Y/N bristled at Harry's cocky remark, her irritation bubbling to the surface. "Hardly," she retorted, her tone sharp. "I have better things to do than waste my time watching you play."

Harry chuckled, his smirk widening as he leaned against the cooler. "Is that so? Then what brings you here?" he asked, his tone laced with curiosity. “Come to get an autograph?”

Y/N squared her shoulders, determined not to let his arrogance get under her skin. "I was actually hoping to talk to you about something," she replied, her voice steady despite the nerves fluttering in her stomach.

Harry raised an eyebrow, his interest piqued. "Oh? And what might that be?" he inquired, his gaze piercing as he studied her intently.

Taking a deep breath, Y/N gathered her courage and suppressed her pride, "I want you to coach me," she blurted out, her words hanging in the air between them. 

Harry made no effort to hide the surprise on his face but it quickly melted into a cocky smirk, “You want me to coach you? I thought you hated me?” 

“I do,” She replies quickly. She’d hated him ever since he had humiliated her in a battle of the sexes tennis tournament when they were young despite the fact she had little chance of winning against him anyway. “But I don’t have to like you to recognise your talent and right now you're the best and only coach I can get if I’m going to win that scholarship,”

Harry’s eyebrows furrowed slightly, “Your parents still want you to study medicine?” Something flickered in his eyes that Y/N couldn’t put her finger on. 

Y/N wasn’t going to give him an answer even though it was obvious, “This is the only chance I get to escape it,” She mutters, “I wouldn’t ask unless I was desperate.”

He glanced around before taking a step forward. She was tempted to step back at the same time but she didn’t want to seem intimidated by him so stood her ground. From this proximity, she noticed how much taller he was compared to her - almost an entire foot. 

“What’s in it for me?” He asked.

Y/N knew he’d ask which was why she spent so much time figuring out what she could tell him to make it worthwhile. “I know about your injury,” She says and he stills.

“Everyone knows about my injury.” He grumbles. 

It had been a spectacle in the world of tennis. The new grand slam winner loses out on his second after a fatal injury at the French Open. Y/N remembered seeing him rolling on the ground, holding onto his leg as paramedics ran onto the court to aid him. 

“People think you’re a one-hit wonder since you’re out for the season,” His jaw clenched as she spoke, “But if you coach me and get me to win, I guarantee you’ll be out on the court again - back where you belong,”

“You think an academy league game can get my back onto the court?”

“No, but it's a start and maybe I’ll be competing alongside you the next time you’re playing.” 

There was a moment of silence as Harry absorbed her words, his gaze searching hers for any hint of insincerity. Finding none, he let out a heavy sigh, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly. "Fine," he relented, his voice tinged with resignation. "You want me to coach you? Prove you’re worth coaching.” 

He walked over to the barrel of tennis rackets and picked one up. Y/N narrowed her eyes, remembering the last time they had played against each other and how embarrassed she was afterwards. 

“But you’re-”

“One game won’t hurt,” He said before she could finish. 

She followed, her steps purposeful as she reached for a racket, flipping it over in her hands as she strode to the other end of the court. Despite being clad in her school uniform—a pleated skirt, white shirt with the school crest, and loafers that threatened to slide off her feet—she was determined to prove herself. She'd show him she was worth his time, that she was a far better tennis player than he gave her credit for.

As they took their positions on opposite ends of the court, the tension between them crackled in the air. Y/N gripped her racket tightly, her focus sharp as she prepared to face off against Harry once again.

The first serve sliced through the air, the sound echoing as the ball hurtled towards Y/N. She moved with fluidly, her muscles tensing as she returned the serve.

Harry's response was swift, his movements confident as he returned the ball with a well-placed shot that left Y/N scrambling to keep up. Even with his injury, he still held the precision of a professional. But she refused to back down, her determination driving her to match him shot for shot, rally after rally.

The game intensified as they traded blows, each point reflecting their skills and determination. Y/N's heart pounded in her chest as she fought to keep pace with Harry, her mind focused solely on the ball. Both Y/N and Harry vocally exerted their energy through grunts and cries as they hit the ball with all their energy. 

Despite her efforts, Harry seemed to anticipate her every move. But Y/N refused to be outdone, drawing on every ounce of strength and skill as she fought to gain the upper hand.

As the game progressed, Harry's skill and experience began to overthrow her. His shots were close to perfect and strategic, leaving Y/N struggling to keep up. Despite her determination, she found herself falling behind as Harry continued to dominate the match.

In the end, it was Harry who emerged victorious, his final shot landing just beyond Y/N's reach with a satisfying thud. As the ball bounced out of the court, Y/N knew that she had been outplayed.

She rested her hands on her knees, hunched over as she tried to regain her breath. She couldn’t help but feel disappointed that she’d lost despite the fact she was at a disadvantage anyway. 

Harry’s shadow fell over her but she refused to look up just yet. He spoke anyway, “You’ve gotten better since the last time I saw you,” He spoke, holding a cold water bottle in front of her face. 

She took it, the plastic crackling under her fingers, “You can just say you’re not going to do it,” She mumbled, unscrewing the cap and taking a swig of water. 

“I’ll coach you,” He says, “Meet me here at 6 pm tomorrow.” 

Y/N finally looked up, her mouth parted, only to find his back facing her as he walked away from the courts. 

. . . 

Harry had no idea what he had agreed to in coaching Y/N at tennis. 

He sat in his luxurious apartment ten minutes away from Crestwood Academy, surrounded by furniture wrapped in plastic or still in cardboard boxes. 

He sat on the couch with his feet resting on the coffee table in front of him and a glass of whiskey in his hand. The TV was playing quietly in front of him but his mind was on the girl he had spent the majority of his life competing with. 

She had grown since the last time he had seen her before he graduated and left the country to compete in the Australian Open. Her long, tanned legs were on show beneath the grey school skirt she had been wearing. He couldn’t seem to get the image of the visible muscles in her calves out of his mind as she moved across the court to hit the ball during their impromptu tennis match. 

Despite their personal differences, Harry couldn't resist her. There was an undeniable thrill in riling her up, in watching her reactions to the smallest digs. They had once been friends, back when Y/N would trail after him on the playground, eager to understand how to hit a ball with a tennis racket. But as she began competing in school competitions, she quickly learned that beating him was an impossible feat. 

He wasn’t surprised to see her watching him on the court today, in fact, it amused him. Whether she liked it or not, he would always look out in the bleachers for her whenever he’d play during his time at the academy. Her reactions were what kept him going, some might even say made him better. 

But, he couldn’t deny the fact that he was surprised to see her so brazenly asking him to coach her. He could tell by her reaction that it was killing her inside, to be coached by him when all she’d done was pick apart his technique, but it was clear she was desperate and Harry knew it was because of her parents. 

Harry had had his fair dose of strict parentage. When he was told he could no longer play tennis for the season, his parents shipped him straight back to Crestwood to finish his final year since he never actually graduated. 

He loathed them for it, barely saying a word to them as they paid the rent in cash for his apartment and left him with boxes to unpack on his own. He knew they were disappointed in him despite the fact the injury was no fault of his own, they could barely look at him as they left, closing the door behind them. 

It was embarrassing. How could he have gone from being at the top of his game to the very bottom? Now he was back in the place he had turned his back on, feeling like he was back to square one all over again. 

Harry’s thoughts were broken by the sound of his phone ringing. The name of his best friend since he was born lit up the screen.

“What?” Harry answered the call, his train of thought forming a particular level of intolerance in him.

“Hey, is that any way to talk to your best friend?” Mitch replied along with the sound of loud chattering in the background because he always had to be somewhere with someone. 

“Sorry,” Harry huffed, “Long day.”

“Already? You’ve not even started classes yet,” Mitch chuckled.

“Don’t remind me,” Harry hadn’t even begun thinking about being back in classrooms and having to put up with kids his age berating him with questions he didn’t want to answer. Tomorrow would be his first day back and he was dreading it.

“C’mon now, don’t be too glum about it, haven’t you missed me?” 

“No,” Harry lied. 

“I know you well enough now to know when you’re lying.” Mitch laughed down the phone. 

A hint of a smile grazed Harry’s lips, "Whatever," he replied, his tone gruff but lacking conviction. Despite his attempt to feign disinterest, a part of him couldn't deny the truth in Mitch's words. There had been many moments he had experienced after leaving school when he missed the company of people his own age. Everyone around him was older than he was and spoke to him as though he was some prized trophy that needed to be handled with caution. He’d spend evenings by the pool by himself, watching the sunset and wishing his friends were there to celebrate his win with him. 

"I'll take that as a yes," Mitch teased, “I know the boys will be happy to have y’ back and I can introduce you to Sarah. I think Molly Brown still has a thing for you as well by the way, talks about you all the fuckin’ time.” Harry listened to his friend ramble about all the things he had missed in the last year or so but his mind seemed to travel elsewhere. 

His eyes wandered around the room, his ear still pressed to his phone, until they landed on an open box with a picture frame resting on top. He recognized the photo immediately, even without picking it up, because he had kept it hidden in his old dorm desk. In the picture, a group of eight students—four boys and four girls—smiled at the camera, with Harry standing at the back and Y/N right beside him.

. . . 

Y/N slammed the door of her locker shut after pulling out her workbooks for her next class. Students bustled down the hallways of Crestwood Academy, wearing their navy blazers and uniform for another week of school. 

“Have you seen him yet?” Sarah, Y/N’s best friend, came out of nowhere and stood in front of her. 

“Seen who?” Y/N remained indifferent even though she knew who Sarah was referring to. 

Everyone had been talking about Harry since she had walked into school from her dorm room this morning. It was the main topic of conversation, everyone’s eyes darting around the hallways to try and find him. 

“You know,” Sarah nudged her, “The boy you’ve spent most of your life in a one-sided rivalry with?” 

“One-sided? It’s a mutual hatred,” Y/N argued.

Sarah gave her a look before continuing, “I texted Mitch twenty minutes ago but he hasn’t replied. I know I’ve met Harry before but this is the first time I’ll be meeting him as Mitch’s girlfriend and I don’t want it to change anything.”

Y/N’s eyes softened, “Sarah, just because he’s the winner of a grand slam doesn’t make his opinion of you any more important. Whether Harry likes you or not, everyone knows you and Mitch are perfect for each other.”

Y/N remembered the first time her friend had told her she was seeing Mitch. He had taken her out to dinner a few times and Sarah had come back to their shared dorm swooning and unable to stop herself from rambling the rest of the night about how romantic and funny he was. 

Y/N had never experienced anything like that in her life, too busy focusing on tennis and academia to find herself in relationships, but she was happy her best friend was happy and that was all that mattered to her. 

“I know but he’s important to Mitch. They’ve been best friends since infants and… that’s not all I’m worried about,” Sarah looked at Y/N pointedly. 

“What?” 

“Now that Mitch and I are together, that means we’ll be spending more time around each other which also means…” Sarah didn’t have to finish her sentence for Y/N to understand what she was trying to get at. 

“Oh n-no! No way! Sarah, are you being serious right now?” Y/N whined, “You want me to get along with Harry just because you’re dating his best friend?”

“You don’t have to but it would be nice if you did,” Her voice trailed off at the end, her eyes looking at her pleadingly, “I’m not asking you to be best friends, I’m just asking you not to chew his head off when we’re all in the same room together.”

Y/N wanted to argue and tell her she wouldn’t be able to chew his head off anyway because she needed him to coach her for the scholarship but an arm slid around Sarah’s waist and interrupted their conversation. 

Sarah grinned, turning to look up at her boyfriend who was now standing beside her, “Hey babe,” Mitch smiled.

“You’re here,” Sarah craned her neck to kiss his lips, “I texted you forever ago and you never replied.

Mitch scoffed, “It was twenty minutes ago and I didn’t have time to check my phone, too busy dragging this one through the front gates.”

Out of the corner of Y/N's eye, another figure appeared. She didn’t have to look to see who it was, the sudden surge of annoyance within her already gave them away. Her head tilted to the left to look up and see Harry. 

He was wearing his school uniform, the same way he always did before he left for Australia. His shirt was untucked, and the top button was undone revealing a gold chain and a white vest underneath, his grey trousers were ironed with not a crinkle in sight and his navy blazer hung casually behind him, hooked by his middle finger.

Y/N’s eyes shifted behind him to find people whispering to each other and groups of girls giggling as they walked past. It was nothing new to see girls getting riled up over him but it had become more intensified now that he had gone abroad and made a name for himself. Despite his injury preventing him from playing, Y/N was certain that even if Harry had lost every game and embarrassed himself on live television, people would still adore him.

“Hey Harry,” Sarah offered a kind smile.

“Hi Sarah, nice to see you again. Glad to know Mitch was in good hands whilst I was away,” Harry clapped his friend on the shoulder before turning to Y/N.

“Only the very best,” Mitch pulled Sarah into his side before motioning to Y/N, “You remember Sarah’s best friend Y/N right?”

“Hmmm, aren’t you the one who lost the Junior tennis competition to me a few years ago?” Harry smirked.

Y/N's jaw clenched, but she managed to force a smile. "I could be, but aren’t you the one who they recorded rolling around on the floor like a big baby at the French Open last year?" Her retort was sharp, aimed directly at Harry.

Harry's eyes narrowed in response, a flicker of annoyance crossing his features. Y/N felt a sense of satisfaction at having gotten such a reaction from him. "Welcome back to Crestwood," she added, her tone dripping with sarcasm.

Mitch and Sarah exchanged weary glances, sensing the tension between Y/N and Harry.

"Quite a welcome. I’ve already been asked to coach someone and I’ve only been back a week," Harry remarked, his gaze still fixed on Y/N, who met his stare with a glare of her own.

"You have?" Mitch frowned, his confusion evident.

"Who?" Sarah asked, equally perplexed.

Harry's eyes remained locked on Y/N, giving them their answer. "You asked him to coach you?" Sarah questioned her confusion mirroring Mitch's.

Y/N shifted uncomfortably under their scrutiny, "Yeah, I did," she admitted reluctantly, her gaze flickering briefly to Harry before returning to Mitch and Sarah.

"Why would you ask him to coach you?" Sarah asked, her brow furrowing in confusion, “You argue all the time,” 

Y/N hesitated, “I need to win the scholarship to the tennis academy in London and Harry’s the only person here who knows how to play the game.” 

“Glad to know I was the pick of the bunch,” Harry’s voice dripped with sarcasm. 

“I thought you were applying to go to UCL?” Sarah frowned. 

“I was but you know how much the game means to me and my parents refuse to believe it’s more than just a hobby. This is the only chance I’ll get to prove them wrong and the only option to get me out of studying medicine.” Y/N explained. 

Sarah’s eyes softened, she too was no stranger to how strict Y/N’s parents could be. “Which is why she needs me,” Y/N felt the weight of his arm rest across her shoulders, “Right, love?” 

Y/N spun around to face Harry, eyes sharp, “Don’t call me that,” She hissed, seeing the satisfied grin on his face. 

He shrugged, “But I always call you that,” 

Ever since they were teenagers, when the rivalry first began, Harry had opted to calling Y/N ‘love’ knowing how much it riled her up. To some, it was a term of endearment but in the world of tennis the word ‘love’ meant one thing. 

‘Nil, ‘Zero’, ‘Loser’. 

Y/N hated the way he spoke it too - accentuating each letter of the word to drag it out for as long as he could just to annoy her further. 

She stepped forward, “Call me that one more time,” She threatened.

“Or what?” He tilted his head to the side. 

“Guys seriously, break it up,” Sarah intervened, “Aren’t you supposed to be getting along if you’re going to be spending more time together.”

Y/N hated the thought of it but knew she was right. If she wanted Harry to coach her, she couldn’t go around screwing things up by arguing with him. If he was going to coach her at the sport, she’d have to coach herself in controlling her attitude around him. 

“C’mon Sarah, let’s go to class,” Y/N hooked arms with her best friend, wanting to get as far away from him as possible. 

“Oh okay, bye Mitch.” Sarah kissed her boyfriend before she was dragged down the hallway in a hurry.

Harry watched as Y/N practically sprinted down the hallway with Sarah in tow. He felt the need to call out of her for one last dig just so she would turn around and he’d see her face before she rounded the corner, “See you on the courts, love.” He called down to her. 

As he had hoped, Y/N’s head whipped around to glare at him along with her middle finger, “Asshole!” She called back.

Harry chuckled to himself, “That face,” he murmured. 

Mitch placed a hand on Harry’s shoulder, “You’ve got it in for yourself with that one, lad.” Mitch said.

“Tell me about it,” Harry replied, his eyes still on the place he’d last seen Y/N. 

Maybe returning to Crestwood wouldn’t be so bad after all. 

. . . 

With Harry back, Y/N had suspected the day would be a drag with everyone constantly bringing him up in every conversation, but the first half of the day had gone well. Y/N was easily used to her classes by now and was still top of the class in all of them. 

During lunch period, Y/N always sat with Sarah in the library where they’d catch up on what they missed out on each other’s lives or study during exam season. It was nice to have some reprieve during the school hours and whenever she was with Sarah, Y/N could talk for hours and hours.

Now that Sarah was dating Mitch, Y/N and Sarah would spend their lunch with his friends in the lunch hall. Y/N didn’t mind it so much having grown used to being around Mitch’s friends despite their loud and boisterous personalities. 

However, today she was dreading the fact that now her lunchtimes would also include being around the person she wanted to spend as little amount of time with as possible. 

“Can’t we just eat in the library today? Please?” Y/N pulled on the sleeve of her best friend's blazer as she begged her to turn back in the direction of the library. She could already picture Harry’s annoying smirk the closer they got to the entrance of the lunch hall.

“Y/N you’re being dramatic. It’s just an hour, I’m sure you can survive being around him that long.” Sarah continued to tug her down the hallway.

“Sarah I already have to spend enough time as it is,” Now that she asked him to be her coach. The more the day went by the more she was starting to regret her decision. 

Sarah spun on her heel, “Think of this as practice then,” Her eyes looked past Y/N’s shoulder, “Look, there they are,” She moved past her and beelined towards their table where Y/N saw Mitch, Jake and Adam already sitting along with that head of brunette curls that Y/N just wanted to tear out every time she saw him. 

Sighing, she followed Sarah and approached the table responding to everyone’s friendly greetings until she got to Harry, “You’re in my seat,” She spoke after realising all the seats were taken. 

Harry didn’t bother to look around, that stupid grin plastered to his face when he looked up at her, “Am I?” 

Y/N gritted her teeth, “Yes,”

“Hmm,” He swivelled around to look at the back of the chair, “I don’t see your name anywhere.”

A wave of chuckles rippled around the table but Y/N had yet to find the amusement in it. “She does always sit there, H.” Mitch chuckles, “Just grab another chair from a different table.”

Harry leant back against the seat and crossed one leg over his thigh, “But I quite like this seat.” 

“I’m not moving until you get out of my seat,” Y/N crossed her arms, refusing to give in to him. 

“Well you’re going to be stood up for a long time and y’ need those legs for later,” Harry smirked, “Or you could just sit here,” He unfolded his legs and motioned towards his lap, “Still your seat.” 

Y/N’s jaw clenched but before she could respond, Adam chuckled and stood up, “Here,” He picked another chair up from an empty table and set it down next to him, “Y’ can sit here Y/N.” 

She was tempted to refuse and continue to nag Harry for the rest of lunch but decided against it, not wanting to waste her energy on him. Her eyes softened at Adam’s kindness, “Thanks, Adam.” She sat beside him. 

Harry’s smirk seemed to falter when Y/N sat down, watching as Adam looked at Y/N even as she turned to face the others. 

“Is that Molly Brown looking at y’ again Harry?” Jake, who Y/N considered the loudest one of Mitch’s friends, leant over the table to speak lowly to Harry even though it was impossible for him to ever be so quiet. 

Harry forced himself to look away from Adam before he burnt holes into him. “She’s been after him since fifth year,” Mitch chuckled. 

“Y’ think you’ll let her have it this year, H?” Jake takes a spoonful of his lunch and swallows it down. 

“Have what?” Sarah frowned, confused.

“Nothing you need to know about, babe,” Mitch replies, opening her waterbottle for her after she silently handed it to him. 

“I’ve never been interested in Molly,” Harry quickly replies but his ears prick when he hears Y/N laughing quietly with Adam. 

“Mind if I take my chances then?” Jake asks, “I’ve always wanted to date a cheerleader,” 

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” Harry shakes him off, “What about you Adam?” He gets the attention from both Y/N and Adam as they look up, “Don’t you have a thing for Molly?”

Adam furrows his brows, “Molly Brown? Maybe in like third year,” He chuckles, “I’m not interested in anyone at the moment.”

Harry wants to laugh in his face, “Y’ sure about that?”

Adam frowns but Y/N quickly interrupts them, “People are allowed to have other interests you know.”

Harry feels that rush of excitement when she speaks run through his body, “Is this a touchy subject for you?”

Y/N scowls, “No, I’m just saying Adam doesn’t need to be interested in girl’s all the time.”

“Well maybe Adam can speak for himself,” Harry quips.

“Lord save me,” Jake mumbles and Sarah laughs.

“Well what about you? Have you managed to sink your fangs into anyone?” 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Y/N gapes, “I’ve dated plenty of people,”

The image unsettles Harry but he takes the opportunity to tease Y/N further. "Plenty of people, huh?" he echoes.

Y/N's cheeks flush slightly,  "I mean... well, not plenty, but a few," she stammers.

But Harry doesn't let up, "Oh, really?" he presses, "Care to share? I'm sure we'd all love to hear about the few men who you’ve tempted."

Y/N shoots him a glare, knowing full well that Harry was onto her. "I... uh, well," she stumbles over her words, searching for a way to change the subject.

But before she can respond, Adam jumps in. "Come on, Harry, give her a break," he glowers. 

“Yeah, Y/N’s just waiting for the right guy and there’s nothing wrong with that,” Sarah pipes in, always one to have her best friend’s back.

Harry raises an eyebrow, his gaze flickering between Y/N and Adam before settling on Y/N, who shifts uncomfortably. Sensing the tension, Mitch swiftly changes the subject to something else.

. . . 

After lunch, Y/N made her way to her next class with Adam walking alongside her. Out of all of Mitch’s friends, she got on the most with Adam to the point where Sarah was constantly pestering her over considering a date with him but Y/N didn’t see him as any more than a good friend.  He was quiet and kept to himself for the most part, excelling in the arts and playing bass guitar in a band on weekends. Y/N enjoyed the calmness he brought to the group especially with the others being so loud all the time. 

“What do you think?” Adam asked, holding the strap of his backpack in one hand as it hung over his right shoulder. 

“What do I think about what?” Y/N frowned. 

“You know, Harry being back. I know you two didn’t always get along,” He explained.

Y/N scoffed, “If it weren’t for the fact he’s coaching me for the Academy Slam, I would be praying to whatever God that’d listen to send him back to Australia,” Which was also the furthest possible country he could be away from her. 

Adam chuckled, “He told us earlier he’d be coaching you,” 

Y/N scowled, “I bet he couldn’t get enough of it,” 

“Actually he seemed pretty happy about it. We haven’t seen him that happy since he got back from Australia.”

“Really? Maybe that injury did something to his head,” 

“What makes you hate him so much anyway?” Adam asked. 

Y/N sighed. It was a question she heard often but never had a solid answer for. She couldn't quite explain why she disliked Harry so much. Maybe it was because he had things she wanted, and jealousy often turned into hatred. But there was something more, something she couldn't quite pin down.

Despite her dislike, Y/N went to all of Harry's matches, and she watched them on TV too. Even when she tried to stay in her room, her legs seemed to move on their own, taking her to the courts to watch him play. She hated that part of her rooted for him, and she couldn't figure out why. Maybe it was because Harry had been the first person to teach her how to play and she felt some sense of loyalty to that but she had no perfect answer even though she wished for one. 

“His face annoys me,” Y/N says.

“That’s it?” Adam snickers. 

“I don’t know,” Y/N shrugs, “We’ve always had this rivalry that stemmed out of nowhere but I can’t even remember how it started.”

“You don’t have feelings for him do you?” The question came out of nowhere and took Y/N completely off-guard. 

"What? No!" Y/N's response came out a little too quickly, and she hoped her cheeks hadn't betrayed her by turning red.

Adam shrugged. "Just making sure," he said casually. "You know, some people get them mixed up—love and hate."

Y/N furrowed her brow, genuinely puzzled. "How is that even possible?"

"Well, they're both intense emotions, aren't they?" He mused. "And sometimes, when you feel strongly about someone, whether it's love or hate, it can blur the lines between the two."

Y/N pondered his words, a sense of unease settling in her stomach, "No way," she replied firmly, shaking her head. "I may not like him, but there's definitely no love there."

Adam chuckled, sensing her defensiveness. "Alright, that’s good," he said with a grin.

Y/N felt a hint of a smile on her lips, “What does that mean? That’s good?”

Adam shrugged, still smiling, “Jus’ saying,” He spoke and Y/N laughed. 

Her gaze flicked from Adam's to Harry, who stood in the hallway with Molly Brown, her brunette waves tied up in the perfect, slicked back ponytail. Hoping to slip by unnoticed, she quickened her pace, but it was too late. Harry's eyes locked onto hers, then shifted to Adam. She caught the subtle twitch of his jaw before he pushed off the wall, ignoring Molly, and strode toward them.

Adam must not have noticed Harry coming towards them because he quickly bid goodbye so he could rush to his literature class. Y/N picked up her pace but Harry was already by her side, “Do you like him?” Harry asked.

“Who Adam? Well let’s see, he’s nice and smart and doesn’t feel the need to open his mouth every five seconds unlike some people I know, so yeah I do like him.” 

Harry scoffed, “He’s a little boring don’t you think?” 

Y/N rolled her eyes at Harry's comment, a retort already forming on her lips. "Nice of you to say that about your own best friend," she quipped. "Makes me wonder what you say about me."

Before she could say anything more, she gasped in surprise as Harry tugged on her hand and swiftly spun her around until her back was against the row of lockers. Her heart raced as he stepped forward, blocking her in, and dipped his head closer to hers.

"I think we need some ground rules for this whole coaching thing," Harry murmured, his voice low. "If you're planning on winning, I recommend using your time more wisely instead of wasting it on nice boys."

Y/N's breath caught in her throat as she processed his words. "Is that a rule or are you asking me not to date anyone?" she managed to ask, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Both," Harry replied, his tone unwavering.

Her mind raced, unsure how to respond, "What about you then?" she countered.

"Is that a personal request?" Harry's smirk widened, his gaze locking onto hers. "Because I'm the coach, and I set the ground rules so anything you ask me to do is because you want me to do it."

Y/N's heart pounded louder in her ears as Harry's proximity sent heat coursing through her, "It's only fair," she replied, her voice barely audible.

Harry chuckled softly. "Fine, if it makes you happy. But I’m not interested in dating nice girls or boys anyway," he remarked with a smirk.

Y/N swallowed, her curiosity piqued. "What are you interested in?" 

He smirked, "The game," he replied cryptically.

With that, he moved away from her, his eyes lingering on her lips for a moment before he turned and walked down the hallway, “See you tonight, love.” He called back. 

As the sound of his footsteps faded, Y/N stood there, stunned and unable to move. She was grateful that no one had witnessed the exchange as she pulled out her compact, trying to compose herself and hide the flush of embarrassment that coloured her cheeks.

As she hurried to class, already five minutes late, Y/N couldn't shake the intensity of her encounter with Harry. Sitting by the window, her mind wandered as the teacher lectured the class, her gaze drifting to the courts outside where she'd soon be training with him this evening.

This coach-student dynamic had unlocked a new territory between them, something unpredictable that Y/N had no choice but to delve into for the months ahead. 

Yet, it was her only choice. Harry was the only way she could win and she’d push through whatever feelings she had to get what she wanted. 

She’d play the game, just as he wanted her to. 

[bellisima-writes]

Some Rebellious GO Fanfic Recs

Hey there fandom fam,

It’s been an absolute wretched couple of days. I had expected many different outcomes to Tuesday, but the decisiveness with which my country elected a convicted criminal to its highest office left me shocked and numb.

And I know we all don’t come here for politics and real life. We come here to escape. But if you’re like me, and you have this itching need to fight, to organize, to lift up the vulnerable and protect those most at risk, then it’s hard to be here and escape right now.

And that sucks.

But this is and will remain a fanwork blog, and so I offer you some solace - here are some GO fanfics that focus on fighting. On breaking a broken system and protecting humanity, no matter the cost. Because, as much as we love Aziraphale and Crowley, that’s what the original work was about. Love and connection and humanity as an act of rebellion, and we sure do need those themes right now.

So if you’re angry and in the mood for some more plot/action based fics, with a flaming sword and maybe a dash of BAMF Aziraphale, I got you.

I am going to start with my own here, because I've not found one as outrightly rebellious as this yet in my own reading.

The Last Angel by me - (E, 162K) A canon-divergent AU where Crowley and Aziraphale are never assigned to Earth, Hell wins Armageddon and Angels are all but extinct. The story follows Crowley, the Grand Inquisitor of Hell, and Aziraphale, the last Angel alive, as he is captured and brought to Hell to face his execution. But, Hell hath no fury like an Aziraphale scorned...

So, was he really captured, or does Aziraphale have a plan to seek revenge on the beings responsible for destroying everyone he ever knew? And how will the way the Grand Inquisitor makes him feel affect his plans?

Tether by @gingiekittycat - (E, 45K) - a post Season 2 story in which Aziraphale is summoned back to Earth by Crowley for reasons he doesn't understand. This one has all of the sexy goodness you come to expect from a gingikittykat work, with a heartwarming take down of Heaven's Second Coming plans.

What are you doing here by @alphacentaurinebula - (E, 68K) sexy and popular season 3 speculation fic that encompasses both the humor of the source material shockingly well while also providing a rebellious and on brand end to the conflict between Heaven and Hell. Because sides don't matter, working together matters, and this story delivers that theme beautifully.

The Beginning of the End (Again) by @addledmongoose - (M, 79K) a post Season 2 story where Crowley and Aziraphale work to convince Jesus to not go forth with the final judgment. This one stands out for its take on Aziraphale as a guardian angel, fierce, protective, and an ending where he shows his true colors and fights for everything he loves. BAMF Aziraphale in the best way.

Echo by @snae-b - (E, 52K) a story of waking up to find an invisible hand controlling your life, and fighting back to break it and create a new world for everyone.

And a current WIP that's not complete, but the last chapter left me with chills and I am SO excited to see how it will end - And I Did by @di-42 - a Season 3 speculation fic that has Aziraphale as Supreme Archangel in Heaven and Crowley as Grand Duke of Hell. The story is rich and complex, and the cast of characters (both favorites from the show and book as well as new additions) are wonderful. There are two chapters left and I can't wait to see how it all turns out!

Please add on to this list with your own works and favorite rebellious fics!

[pinecipitation]

I am once again up at your ass and asking for smiling friends hcs,,,, can I get fucking uhhhh Charlie and Alan with a crush who can't help but infodump their interests?? Talking about sitting then down and forcing them to watch their favorite movie and just rambling. (This is totally not me projecting in the slightest, nuh uh) THANK YOU WIFE I HOPE THIS IS OKAY TO ASK MWAH

SMILING FRIENDS X GN!READER

HELLO WIFE YES THANK YOU FOR THE ASK!! LEAN IN I HAVE A KISS READY FOR YOU

word count: 800+

warnings: none!!

CHARLIE:

- my guy doesn’t know about shit honestly, I feel like just how in the president election episodes he’d be like “idk idc” but in the end he gets an opinion with the more info you talk about

- of course because it’s YOU, he’d listen though

- you’re more into movies and shows and games than he is, so if the moment is ever dull he’d immediately hit you with the “….soooo,, any new recommendations?”

- boy do you have them

- he honestly enjoys the way you light up talking about the media you’re into, even if he isn’t quite retaining the information

- he doesn’t mind asking about it again just to hear your piece

- he thinks it’s sort of sweet that you get so heavy into a piece of media that you’d defend it to the ground, especially if its media that isn’t too widely liked or known or have much of a fanbase. he thinks it’s cool that he’s that person for you, like he’s getting insider information from a reliable source

- he finds himself seeing the media in the wild and immediately thinking about your thoughts on it, if he sees a figure of a character you don’t like or a poster of an arc you loved he’d be sure to point it out to himself

- will find himself going “man, fuck this character” to himself because of you, immediately shaking his head and wondering what was wrong with him. He didn’t even know the character, but he subconsciously has an opinion on them because of you

- back to you though, he would have a hard time physically sitting down to watch or read what you’re into, or try out a hobby you like, but when the moment comes where you offer watching the series with him he will jump on it without a second thought

- you do talk and pause to rewind certain parts in it, which he usually wouldn’t like people doing, but it doesn’t matter to him. it’s not like he’s watching the show anyways, he’s too fixated on you and how close you two are on his couch

ALAN:

- now he would ACTUALLY know what you’re talking about and pay attention to the movies and series

- usually he would just state he’s seen it or doesn’t care for it, but he’s breaking habits if it’s something you’re visibly excited about

- of course he’s happy to rewatch it though

- “no, I don’t know about it, is it good?” he’s seen the movie four times

- alan the type of man to stare at you blankly and resist the urge to add his own opinions and facts, but stays quiet for the plot

- he does genuinely enjoy having you so vocal about a subject you’re so passionate about, you’re somehow one of the only people he doesn’t get too overstimulated around, plus this way he doesn’t have to talk as much

- the day you offered a movie marathon at his place was a turning point, him taking the day off before just so he can clean and make the place acceptable, going the lengths to get usual movie snacks and blankets and such. this, and him hiding his books and dvds so that you wouldn’t stumble on them and find out he’s been pretending this entire time

- for the sake of the plot we’re ignoring alan being a morning person, in this universe he’s a night owl hence the eye bags

- the marathon goes on for later in the night than you both anticipated, after the first several hours and rambles of explaining you find yourself more and more tired and you pause the movies less and less

- it doesn’t take Alan long to notice that you fell asleep just like that, the blanket around the two of you and the bowl of chips discarded beside you

- he doesn’t care about that though, what he does care about is your head centimeters away from his shoulder

- not feeling even a little tired, he pauses the movie and carefully grabs his phone, sure not to move himself or you and writes down the time and place he paused, sure that you’d want to continue in the morning or another day. he’s also sure to write a small summary of where you two left off, now that you both “watched it together” he can talk back in infodump conversations and not give away that he knows the parts you two didn’t watch

- he’s quick to move when you shift in your sleep, him carefully but rapidly moving his hand from between you two and scooping his shoulder right under your head. you didn’t seem to wake or notice, a small lazy smile of success on his face as the two of you spend the rest of the night on the couch, him on his phone and you resting peacefully on his shoulder.

[katatty]

Shifting Priorities

Thank you for all the nice comments yesterday! Some really helpful perspectives that gave me a lot of ideas on how I can tackle my simmer's block :)

Mostly, I think I need to trim down the number of neighbourhoods I consider "active" and the amount of projects I am doing in general. I have a hard time letting go of neighbourhoods, especially if I am still somewhat invested in them! But I also need to face the fact that I only have so much free time, and do not want playing the sims to be the sole thing I do with that free time XD

For some neighbourhoods I will also be trying out a more stripped-down approach to blogging, similar to what I've been doing with Driftwood. It makes me a little sad because I like my sims to feel fleshed out as characters and giving them voices is a big part of that! But maybe I can save the prose/dialogue for times when it is particularly needed, rather than including it as a default.

Finally, I am going to prioritise based on what I actually have the most fun with, rather than letting popularity drive my decisions!! Some neighbourhoods I feel sad about potentially retiring because I know people enjoy them, or I feel bad admitting I am never going to finish projects people were excited for, but I have to remember simming is something I do for myself, not for popularity or for other people.

So, plans for my neighbourhoods:

Pleasantview Plus - will continue in its current form for the most part, but holdholds I found less inspiring will just get short summaries rather than extensive documentation. This hood is waaaaaaay too big and I think not that many people follow it all that closely, but it's also my one true love and I would like to start prioritising it again rather than it always being on the backburner

Uberhood Challenge (YouTube Series) - This is a short-term series, and will continue as planned until I finish the challenge, which I'm over halfway through :)

Hollyhead - I hate to say it because I know a lot of people love it, but I feel like I have sorta outgrown this neighbourhood? Some simmers like their settings to be an escape from the real world, and when I made Hollyhead I think it was what I needed too, but these days I find how upbeat & wholesome it is a bit, idk, constraining?? I crave drama and conflict in my stories!! I also have kinda lost interest in the BACC rules and have started to find it more book-keeping and hassle for what I get out of it... Whenever I do open the neighbourhood I still really enjoy actually playing it, and I love the characters so much, but I just haven't found the events interesting enough to want to write about. I think this neighbourhood will not be retired completely (yet), but I will move towards writing much shorter updates in the form of newspaper articles and see if that helps. If by the end of this season I still feel ehhh about it, I might formally end it <3

Driftwood - no complaints about this hood, I'll probably continue with the current style of documenting major events & new builds only

Spruceburg (YouTube series) - I would like to do another season of this next year, after I finish the uberhood challenge! But I will probably go for a schedule of like, one season of series per year, rather than posting consistantly. I enjoy YouTube a lot, but its a lot of work too and I think has majorly taken away from my blogging time this year, which I am mourning now lol!!

The Fiero Legacy - it is probably time to throw in the towel with this and admit I just don't enjoy playing legacy style or with story progression that much! I always enjoy the period where the heir is dating but once they settle down and have kids it becomes a chore and a grind, plus with story progression's time system I always feel rushed and like I can't take a sim out of the house for an outing without potentially missing important milestones - the urban setting feels so wasted when its all family gameplay, haha. Hallie should be at the club!! It was an interesting experiment and a nice change of pace, but idk if I really see myself returning to it. I love the sims themselves and the setting, but whenever I actually load up the neighbourhood I just feel kinda stressed and overwhelmed :(

As for my building projects like Belladonna Cove, perhaps at some point I will get really inspired and return to them but for now they are on indefinite break. I remember saying a few time in the past that I didn't really feel much need to make over Pleasantview and Strangetown because if I wanted nice makoevers I would use frottanas, and tbh I feel the same way about Belladonna Cove - if I was playing it I would just use plumbtales makeovers XD With my past neighbourhood makeovers I was really inspired to make them because there wasn't anything out there that was exactly what I wanted but, well, there's loooooads of nice Belladonna cove makeovers these days so I just don't feel much drive to make my own version I guess?? I think I also have lost interest in building a little becasue I am no longer into super heavily decorated lots - I prefer lighter lots that won't cause lag lol! So yeah, I am probably not retiring from building forever but its no longer a priority for me :)

[hkthatgffan]

Well, today's the day! Hilda comes to an end. I figured now more than ever is time I make this post on just…how I feel about this incredible show ending and why it means so much to me…and why I'm grateful to Luke Pearson and the whole Hilda team. So, long post below ahead!

I found Hilda in 2018 via a post on the Gravity Falls sub of the trailer. Right from the start, something felt special about this show. And like many, I tuned in to watch it when it began. I didn't know what would be in store as I began it, but I was excited. This was at the end of the summer as GF hype for Lost Legends and the box set died down. So, getting in to a new show seemed like the best idea. It took literally hearing that theme song for me to instantly fall in love with Hilda. There was something so familiar and wholesome just bursting out of that opening. It was a feeling hard to really explain. By episode 3 and specifically the ending of it…I knew I had my next favourite show.

Everything about Hilda just felt perfect to me. The animation was incredible, Hilda as a character was enjoyable and full of life, the story felt fresh even if the core concept seemed familiar and all in all, I just loved the atmosphere this show radiated. It also made me so happy to see Canada have a part in Hilda. The Canadian animation industry is one I love given how much of a part of my childhood it was. And so to see it have a hand in this incredible show just made me so happy. Mercury Filmworks did amazing with Hilda. And I think that's how I began to understand why Hilda feels so familiar; it reminds me of those old cartoons I grew up on. Those Canadian Nelvana shows that were so wholesome & yet so fun to watch…while also not afraid to be bold. Hilda was that kind of show for a new generation!

I also didn't shy away from poking some nods to Gravity Falls. It was a great way to help spread Hilda's existence to more people and to this day I get messages from people who tell me they found Hilda because of my tweets, or videos or more. That means the world and I am grateful to have helped you discover this show. And like any show I fell in love with, I also bough the books and other merch for it. The Hilda graphic novels were amazing to read and see how the show grew from them, the figurine still just fits in my shelf, and the tie in books and more are always fun to collect. I'll miss it. Not to mention the memes…of which I made a few. The Hilda fandom is insane, yet so funny. Like all fandoms it has its ups and downs but I've met some amazing people because of Hilda and some who I remain great friends with. You know who you are <3

Hilda's conclusion means that the last of my holy trinity shows is now over…and with that, the end of an era. Truthfully, IDK what my plans are post Hilda. It was the last show still airing that I truly was 110% passionate about. That's not to say there aren't other shows, But there will never be another Hilda for me. Hilda is a show unlike any other I have seen. Yeah, perhaps it's not the most popular or the biggest or the best cartoon out there. But OMG, no other show since ever made me as happy and passionate as Hilda did. It's one of a kind!

I said in 2018 that Hilda is everything out of a cartoon that I wanted. I still believe that.

No cartoon is perfect and our definition of perfection is our own. If you ask me though…Hilda is the closest cartoon I have ever come across to my definition of perfection!

With that, while I am heartbroken to bid farewell to Hilda…I am happy I got to experience this show as it aired. I'm grateful for all the memories I made in the 5 years I had it. I'm grateful for the adventure and above all else…I'm grateful to have seen Hilda! ❤️

2018-2023

[ange11icyuri]

PICK A PILE 🫀

˚ ༘♡ ·˚BOOK WITH ME ₊˚ˑ��

◆:*:◇:*:◆:*:◇:*:◆

I’m doing paid readings, here’s the link to my prices :) it’s super cheap to book with me and you won’t be disappointed, so why not take a chance? You will definitely have insight and clarity once you book with me now! 5 dollars for a reading and 10 dollars depending on how detailed you want the reading. (A more detailed reading is 20 bucks) learn more about the prices by checking out my list linked below!

◆:*:◇:*:◆:*:◇:*:◆

Pick a pile, 1, 2, 3, or 4.

How to pick a pile:

Choose a picture that’s to your liking, a picture you feel connected to, then read the number of the picture you chose! :) this is a general romance reading.

☽

PILE l ✯

For those who chose pile one, there is a lot of pain here. You’ve lost someone and you are in mourning. Wether be it from death or separation. Right now its hard for you. There is so much conflict that cause you to hurt. The changes you are facing are sad and hurtful and you are trying too cope. Don’t lose hope though because i see there will be new love entering your life. This person is you’re soulmate. They will be your lover. It will be a perfect union that is will help you heal and grow with this person. Beware though you’ll never get better if you continue to hold onto things or people that you have lost. You need to move on in order to find your happy place with the new person coming in. Be careful not to be too possessive either. Try to be humble, everything will come in time and be put in its place for you. On the other hand i see an opportunity for you with career, you will have financial stability when it comes to this opportunity so take this chance and everything will be going good for you.

PILE ll ✯

For those who chose pile two, there’s a lot of change coming your way. It’s been hard for you in you’re life but you will be coming out of a painful situation. Do not be afraid of change because the change that is coming is going to be what you need to get yourself up again. You’re afraid but you don’t have to be. You are indecisive about a situation and you don’t want too make the decision because your scared but you should choose your decision now. It will lead you down a good path. There will be good news coming in for you. You might get a phone call and be making exciting plans, so go out there and make those choices because it’s leading you down an exciting path.

PILE lll ✯

For those who chose pile three, you’ve been overloaded with stress could be because of work or problems in your life. There is too many responsibilities for you to tackle all at once and its hard for you. You feel restricted and that you are being taken for granted. Things may not be going you’re way. Someone might’ve cheated and broke you’re heart. You could’ve fell in love with you’re one night stand but it might have not gone well and turns out they were a terrible person. In this time you are going to be on your way of success, you might be planning or coming up with new ideas. You will have a breakthrough. You will realize the truth and do what you need to. You will be self employed or doing well in your career and you will be manifesting whatever you want and working hard with focus to achieve your dreams and goals, which will come true.

PILE IV ✯

For those who chose pile four, you’re going through a struggle because of you’re relationship, and your at your last breaking point. It’s become so stressful and you might want to leave the connection. There’s a lot of regret, guilt, and remorse. Be strong everything is happening for a good reason, it might not feel like it now, but there is a purpose for all of this. The relationship will end and you will be free of this connection. You will let go of this connection and move on. For this ending will bring about a new beginning. This will transform you and heal you for better to come. It might be a battle, but once you fight for what it is you want it will happen for you.

☻

Thanks for staying and reading if you enjoyed and you wanna know more dm me for a more detailed reading! It's cheap and affordable and you won't regret it! See you soon.

[smilingangel582]

Lemme be honest, Percy Jackson is a book series I read and enjoyed as a kid, but I was totally not expecting these boys Nico and Will! And it's real! Omg I just read the new book, Sun and Star, and they really tickled my fancy!

Btw... I am not enlightened about hero's of olmypus since I don't remember much apart from the basic story line. Sooo, I will write about these boys more since I know them better. Btw I'm gonna be a lee!nico main! Ler!Will is the best! Sunshine needs to shed more light on him.

And the one I'm writing now is not entirely a tickle fic, because I want some more cuteness and love from them, so... there will be only a minor tickle scene. If that's not enough, I'll write a better and intensely cute one! Heeeheee

Warning spoilers alert

Need you by my side.

Ps. You can't tell me this gif is not relatable!

Camp half blood was much quieter around this time. Will rested by the stretchers after most of the patients are well taken care of. He was ready to close down the infirmary when he noticed a familiar presence by the Apollo cabin.

"Nico?"

This made the son of Hades step out and push his hands down his pockets giving a head gesture "Yo,"

As calm and reserved as ever, so intense. Will thought with a smile, but he really wished Nico could open up more than the rest. He just got used to socializing, but its kinda hard to get him to interact with others willingly.

He would do it for Will. Indirectly, he had that look ever since. Plus, he would swing by the infirmary to check on Will, showing his love more endearing for Will.

"Are you here to see me?" Will asked teasingly.

Nico looked away with a frown "Well, no... just bored,"

"I thought you enjoyed your self-solitary confinement," raising an eyebrow, Will watched Nico shift from one foot to another by holding the expression of seriousness. "Yeah, can't I roam around these lands?" He added "I need to get out of there at least once"

Sighing, Will reached to grab his shoulders and slide his arms over his neck to embrace him. "Just simply say you missed me"

Almost. Will saw a faint blush, but it was a split second. He scoffed but didn't push him off, "Yeah, think whatever you want"

"Babe..." he whispered to his ear now, this made Nico stagger back and Will grabbed his elbows now to avoid a sudden tumble on the grass.

There's that blush. Will grinned, now blowing into his ear. "Your ears are red... that was a dead giveaway..."

(A/N: I'm a sucker for sensitive ears - may it be for tickle purposes or any non-tickle purposes)

"Solace..." he gritted his teeth but didn't say anything much as he felt himself melting to the sudden arousal. He had always been weak on the ears, he can't control himself when Will took advantage of this.

They were still outside by the forests, far from the other cabins but close by the infirmary. They could slip away easily without anyone finding out... hopefully.

"W-wait..." Nico gasped suddenly leaning against the tree as he felt Will push himself to bite his ear, which made him moan a wavery and high vibrato.

"Nico that's adorable" he whispered.

"Ngh! S-shut up" hi gripped Will's jacket to push him and pull him... he was torn with both desires.

Will felt him warmer now, his own face slightly flushed with excitement. He watched the beautiful face of the Ghost King turn to something cute and stimulative.

"Can't... sorry," he nipped his collarbone, making Nico give a weak cry of protest, "I missed this... so much Nico"

He decides to back off before giving a long kiss to his tender lips. Nico widened his eyes. Those pitch-black eyes were brighter like a confused kitten. Will didn't stop his fingers from holding Nico's shoulders. He could see this was a temptation he wanted desperately for himself as well.

"You had to do that...?" Nico whined, pulling his knees to his chest as he mumbled like a child. Another lovely side that Will loves in him was this childish pout and complains he had. When things don't go his way he would be like this.

"Come on... you look like a puppy that needed attention"

"Is that so?" His tone shifts to a smirk. Will didn't see this coming. He felt a sudden weight on his chest as he watched Nico kiss him more vigorously, now pinning his own wrists. Too surprised by the attack, he gasped. "W-wait!"

"Your turn..."

Will liked it rough, he smiled fondly but then again, they might go too far as to getting caught. He should stop nico from getting too far.

There is only one way to stop him.

"Ack! Will!" He yelped now, stumbling away from his boyfriend."Dohont do that!"

Will snuck a few fingers clawing at his ribs. He resorted to immature measures in order to tame Nico's wild vengeance. It's effective even for someone like him.

"I'm sorry, but is the big bag son of hades a bit ticklish?" Will giggled when Nico tried to escape the playful nimble fingers of his. Chuckling more at that, he grabbed Nico's wrist and in one hand to his chest while the other hand snuck to his hips, pinching them rapidly. This drove Nico wild, "Yohohou moron! I'll sehehend you creatures ohohof -gahaha nohoho more -aahha ihihihi wihihill make suhuhuhure thehehehey eheheheat your brahahahain!"

Clicking his tongue, he poked his stomach. "That's so adorable. You should stop watching dead rising though," he grinned, now wiggling his fingers. "I can't help but want to tickle you more for that stunt you pulled ..."

"SOHOHORRY!" He yellled when Will hit a particular sensitive spot. He snuggled his lips to the side of his neck bringing tickly kisses which made Nico arouse and giggle at the same time.

"Alright, alright... we gotta stop. Let's continue on bed"

"Y-yohou mean thahat?"

Will watched the keeness in his eyes, then smugly pointed out "Oh, don't you like my seduction? That's fine, I can tickle you instead?"

"Stop, you know what I meant." Nico gave a soft smile without any forced attempt. Will felt his heart begin palpitation at that. He gave one last kiss on Nico's pale cheek before dragging him away, "I know, Nico..."

"I need you by my side," Will said unexpectedly, then Nico widened his eyes by this confession. He chuckles playfully. "That reaction was priceless... I gotta take a photo of that someday"

"Bastard, what am I a cat...?" he chuckled in a low voice but then looked up at the blond who was glimmering light to his life. Before that, he blushed as he said, "I love you, sushine, so i need you by my side too"

"I love you too, my grumpy ball of darkness"

[teasiswriter]

BOok!

Hi! I've been writing a book about this guy who enjoys sleeping and his own reality in his mind and stuff over being alive and awake, and I'm really excited and want to share! If you have any suggestions, feel free to DM me or send questions. With that said, here is the prologue of "The Dreaming Man"

Prologue:

It never works. It always begins the same way every instance. Every morning I plead, beg Dionysus, it cannot be Kazlauskas v. Caplan. Maybe it was doomed from the start. But why couldn’t I change it? Shouldn’t I? It is my mind, the voices and the visions, it is my mind why can’t it win over itself for once, it is my mind but I am unable to. My mind is everything that exists. When my life loses its hard edges and numbs, and my life with her begins, I always forget to change the beginning, I always forget to want to find her. It starts.

I wake up. My socks are wet, the worst thing to be.

I am wet. The worst way to be. I look down, the terrifyingly familiar pond, the extensions of my blurred body.

I get up. I hate rivers. They move too much, that’s why it’s a pond. Not a river. 

(Dorian, whatever we are, thinks it’s better to fix me using humor. He laughs when I tell him about this dream. 

‘It’s definitely a river, you’re too wishy-washy, love, he starts, chucking that word with a practiced frivolity.

‘It’s always a pond, from Monet’, I bark.

‘I can’t hear you’, he attempts to tease.

Yes he can. He just can’t speak the Adamic Language. French. Which is idiotic because his last name is a monster of a French word. l'Auxiliaire. He never includes the stupid apostrophe.  It’s why he can’t go on flights, his passport wouldn’t match up, even though it’s one apostrophe. He could do the sensible thing, figure it out himself, find a fake ID, but he finds it romantic to ignore himself. He’d rather fix me.

Pushing back my hair he kisses my forehead. He thinks it’ll make me love him. I don’t love him. I won’t love you Dorian.)

The quickest way to stay dry is to stand up. I do. The non-existent shadow-like figure (my darling) catches my eye, she is what I want. My faith. She’s always out of the corner of my eye. I turn.

I know your demons disappear when you look;  the woman I pray to does as well. I walk and the color of the fog—so purple it could rain—becomes one with the pond. I begin. Walking, wandering, rushing, the fog solidifies beneath my feet, the staircase to my heaven.

I arrive at the forest that never showed itself when I was a young boy. 

When I was a young boy, I swam under the lily pads, then I found myself in Dante’s inferno to the nth degree. My mind is what’s real, Dorian is a liar, so is Dr. Tuttle. So I never swam again, I know now Monet’s muses were tortured. As a child I was scared, but now I see it was an honor. I am what Monet paints. I am almost everything beautiful. Now I am her Monet—I want her. 

In the forest, the Prairie, I see people. Writhing at the seams, sans tes conseils. Disgusting. They’re wet. Disgusting. As a boy I was so quick to hope, however I saw something creeping through the black, behind in the pond, cutting through the forest, and I was so swift to despair. 

When traversing through the only reality I made it through the clearing. When this life was considered a problem and they told me to take my pills, I resisted the siren call. I made it to her, knowing she would always be ahead of me. She is my old new vision. Yet she’s become so old I feel like she’s birthed me daily. The haziest of visions wears no name. No face. Nobody. Yet she’s the most beautiful sight I’ve laid eyes on. Her skin—I presume—must be so burningly calm. Pale as moonlight and rich as honeyed-earth.

This is where I am stuck. As a boy I didn’t know to make it this far; now I am here I have no further guidance. When I ask the poets they give no answer and when Dorian speaks I hear nothing but misdirection. I need to touch her but she is gone. I’ve serenaded, I’ve mused, I’ve tried the arts, but she vanishes and I hate her for it. I just want to kill the butterfly. I want to keep it pristine and dead.

Dorian always shows up in the dream. One of the faces in the Prairie. Donning a blue trench coat. Comme angélique, je le déteste. The best part is that I can’t hear him. His rejection of his mother tongue pains him, and with no mother his words are orphans in my mind. I’ve ambled around, taken walks while avoiding this suffocation. I walk away from her yet I cannot move off this path.I follow the path. I push forward. I wake up.

[allylikethecat]

Happy June 1st, The 1975! In celebration of The 1975 day, have a little snippet of the vampire fic! All of the vampire brain rot has been so extremely real, and I am so excited to start sharing this one with y'all! (And thank you so much to everyone who has been so supportive of this new obsession!) It's still rough and things are subject to change, but I'm excited so here it is!

Matty knew that George was a vampire, he had known since they met in school, Matty bombarding him in the hallway, cornering him with a sly grin and a so I heard you played the drums. Everyone knew that George Daniel was a vampire, that his entire family was made up of vampires, that’s why he was weird, and quiet and kept to himself, more interested in books than people. It’s why he had to lather himself in sunscreen even in the English gloom before going outside. Matty, painfully human, had been fascinated by him, and getting him to join his band?! It was the perfect excuse to get closer to him, to get to know the boy with the pretty eyes and porcelain skin that he wanted to lick every inch of. 

But looking at him now, Matty couldn’t help but notice that he was so much more. Sharp, angular features, and while George had always been pretty, there was something about him now that seemed unworldly. Matty didn’t know if it was because his own senses had been heightened, his body settling into its new normal, its new existence. He didn’t know if he could actually, finally see George for what he truly was, which was perfect or if it was because he was looking at George sober for the first time in ten years. He didn’t know which was worse, that he had spent so many years blind or that he had spent so many years inebriated that he didn’t even realize that his best friend looked like he had been carved by a renaissance artist. 

“Matthew,” George said with an exasperated sigh, oh Matty thought, having been lost in his own lust filled thoughts, George had been speaking this entire time. “Are you even listening to me?” 

Matty would have flushed if he had any excess blood left in his body to do so, instead he just shivered, he liked the way his name, his full name sounded coming from George’s lips. He wondered if that was another new side effect of his condition. Everything sounded clearer, sounded richer, and it made his spine tingle. He needed to listen to music, he realized, sitting up so fast that it made him feel dizzy, pain prickling along the side of his neck. He reached up without thinking about it, touching the bandage at his throat, wrapped around his neck where George had ripped into his jugular, saving his life even as he took it for his own. 

George swallowed hard, and looked away. “Does it hurt?” he asked instead of whatever he had been going on about before. “I can get a nurse—” 

Matty snorted, “George,” he said calmly, “they’re not going to give me anything for it even if it did.” 

[birdofdawning]

Pumpkins

Myka Bering and the bank own a house. This is important to the story. It is a small house, but it has a front porch that looks out over a quiet street, and French windows that open onto a small back lawn with an apricot tree in the middle. The house is one-hundred and thirty years old, and in a much better condition now than when Myka Bering had first bought it. Then it was sad and unsightly, with paint peeling off its weatherboards and a tin roof that banged in the wind. When you flicked on the light switch it made noises and when you turned the tap on worrisome things happened. But Myka read renovation books and went to night-classes. She stripped and sanded and repainted the house, replacing its rotting weatherboards. She pulled up the old carpet and polished the floorboards underneath. She hung wallpaper, unjammed windows, replaced panes of glass, and even repaired the plumbing herself. But she got an electrician in to rewire the house; and, though she nailed down the loose pieces of her rusty iron roof herself, she began saving up for a new roof. Now the house is trim and tidy and even smart, in a modest way.

The house is in an old neighbourhood that is currently unfashionable. It still has short, narrow streets lined with telephone poles, which cars are slow to navigate, and a small church or a corner store every few blocks. There are orange trees in some people’s yards and old rusted vehicles in others, each yard separated by a completely different style of fence, or a scraggly hedge, or nothing at all, just a strip of grass. Myka Bering says that that one day, when house prices rise and the area becomes desirable, she will be able to sell her house for considerably more than she paid for it. But after she had built and filled an enormous bookshelf that took up the entire internal wall, spanning from the front windows of the lounge to the end of the small dining room, people had decided that she was probably going to stay.

In the evenings, after she has cleaned her small kitchen, Myka Bering might sit down in an armchair beneath the great bookshelf and read. On Friday and Saturday nights she has a glass of wine and puts cello concertos on the stereo; and if it is warm she will open the French windows in the kitchen and enjoy the scent of orange blossom drifting through the house. Sometimes her friend Abigail will come over and drink wine with her and try and talk her into going out.

“It’s been four years,” Abigail will say, “time to get back on that horse, kid. They’re not all secretly married.”

And Myka will roll her eyes and say “I am perfectly content staying at home.”

“Yeah, no shit,” Abigail will say, “Christ, Mykes. I bet I’m the first person you’ve talked to in days.”

“Not true!” Myka will say, triumphant, “I had an exciting conversation with Mrs Kim about the tinned tomatoes she had on sale yesterday! And anyway,” she will add as Abigail rolled her eyes, “I like living quietly by myself. I count myself lucky to be able to.”

“I’m just jealous,” admits Abigail one evening, “Every week I have to explain to my mother why Josh and I aren’t breeding, and hear statistics on the dwindling fertility rate in women our age.”

“Well, she has to tell you these things because you didn’t become a real doctor.”

“Real doctor my ass,” Abigail mutters, and takes a big sip of wine.

“Kids are nice,” says Myka, who is an aunt. “And other people’s kids, who I can leave with their parents at the end of the day, are the nicest of all.”

And Abigail looks about at the tasteful ornaments and unmarked lounge suite and kilim carpet and finds it hard to imagine children trampling into this oasis of calm.

Myka Bering has done well for herself. When she first started living in the house she would get up at five and rush about, taking breakfast with her to eat as she drove to work in the same old Nissan Bluebird that she had had since college. But now she gets up at seven, turns the radio onto NPR, and leaves it playing as she makes herself a cup of coffee and sits down at her computer in the small office she has set up in the back bedroom. She has replaced her old car with one that she doesn’t have to keep having repaired, and she wears nicer suits on the days when she goes into the city. And after a few years she did indeed hire men to come in and replace the old roof, so that she didn’t have to keep climbing up with her hammer every autumn.

But still she continues to live quietly, sticking to her routine. Perhaps she’s more likely to work late into the evenings instead of sitting in her chair and reading. The walls of the back bedroom-office have slowly accumulated pinned maps and diagrams and lists, and the spare bed has become a place to keep folders and file boxes. Myka buys an oak bookshelf for the room and fills it with heavy textbooks on city design and transport planning, and from time to time as she works she will push her office chair across to the shelf and consult one. But other than these few things the room is sparse. While the rest of the house is filled with lovely rich colours, the back bedroom-office, where she spends so much of her waking time, remains white and utilitarian. 

“You’ve become a hermit. It’s very you, but it’s not healthy,” her sister tells her on one of her occasional visits. She lives somewhere far away, and when she arrives she has a suitcase and Myka changes the sheets and opens the windows of the second-best bedroom.

“I have a very nice life,” Myka replies.

“You have a very nice house,” rejoins her sister, “It’s not the same thing.”

And then they will quarrel until one of them cries, or stomps out of the room in a temper, or they both become distracted by a pop song from their adolescence.

“Well, if you’re happy I suppose that’s that,” says Abigail with a sigh as she puts her coat on one evening. “Are you happy?”

“Of course I am,” says Myka.

One winter’s day Myka Bering is woken up by a phone call. She has fallen asleep curled around the folders and file boxes on her spare bed, after spending days and nights working on a difficult project. It takes her several tries to get the phone to work.

“H’llo?” she finally mutters into the device.

“Myka! Where are you!? I’m waiting in Arrivals!” says her sister.

“Arrivals?” yawns Myka.

“Arrivals! At the Denver airport! Holy fuck, Myka, have you missed the fucking plane?”

“Wha’?” says Myka sitting up. “No, that’s tomorrow…”

“It IS tomorrow you idiot!” yells her sister. “How could you lose track of the day!? You!? Have you just spent the whole week in that house not speaking to anyone!? Oh my god, you have haven’t you!?”

Myka runs into her bedroom and begins hastily packing a suitcase while her sister continues shouting in a tinny voice that she certainly isn’t going to tell their parents that Myka won’t be making it to Thanksgiving, and that Myka needs to sort her life out.

“My life is fine,” mutters Myka as she grabs her keys and drags her suitcase out to the car.

But perhaps it is time Myka Bering’s life had a little bit of a shake-up. We’ll start small, though. We’ll open a gate.

Myka Bering does not consider herself much of a gardener. This is important too. I suspect the deficit is due more to a lack of interest than a lack of ability, because I believe that Myka can do anything she puts her mind to.

But instead she pays Mr Jackson to keep the strip of front lawn tidy and to mow the grass around the apricot tree every other week. And because she mostly works from home now, when he arrives she will leave the back bedroom-office and help him shift the wooden lawn furniture she keeps under the tree into the driveway, and then back again when he is finished.

The back lawn is perfect. It is flat and even, largely because she had hired a roller in her first year in the house, and had spent several Saturdays onerously rolling the ground flat. In the spring and summer, before Mr Jackson is due to cut it, the grass in the back yard grows almost long, with dandelions and clover flowers everywhere and bees happily wandering about. On sunny evenings Myka Bering sits outside in a lawn chair under the apricot tree, and has her dinner and reads.

Other than the tree — and a small shed tucked up against the back fence — the lawn spreads out to the fence line, unmarred by any hedge or flowerbed. Myka has not grown anything else in the yard in the four years she has lived there, other than some night stock that she planted beside the French windows one year so that the perfume would drift inside the house when she hooked them open in the evenings; but night stock is, of course, an annual, and she didn’t bother replacing it the next year. Myka Bering prefers things neat and tidy and low-maintenance.

Now, decades ago the Alvarado family had lived in the house and had been good friends with the Rojas family in the house next door (that is, until Adriana Rojas ran off to New York with Izzy Alvarado to become Rockettes, thus causing a rupture that was never fully repaired). In the evenings, after supper, the parents would sit together on the front porch of one of the houses and drink beer and talk and listen to the baseball or swing music on the radio, while their children ran up and down the street. And when night fell, and they would call everyone inside and bid each other a good night.

And so, when it came time to replace the old fence between the two properties, Mano Alvarado suggested putting in a gate halfway down, so that the families didn’t always need to walk out onto the street and around every time they wanted to go between the two back yards.

Mano and John Rojas were both builders, and they knew their trade. When they built something, they built it to last for two generations and more. And so the gate still stood there, halfway down the back yard fence, when Myka Bering (and the bank) bought the little house. 

Myka had tried the gate once, when she first moved in, and found its old hinges immovable and its latch stuck fast, all fused solid by rust. And deciding that this was as good as a fence she had left it alone. She had painted it, of course, or at least she had painted her side of it; and now it was a fetching bottle green, to match the lawn and the apricot tree. But, not intending to ever use the gate, she didn’t bother replacing the hinges and broken latch, and rarely thought of it again.

And so one afternoon in April Myka Bering is standing in her kitchen putting together a cheese sandwich. It is past three o’clock so she doesn’t allow herself any more coffee, but a snack is permissible. It is spring, and she has the French windows open, and a movement outside makes her look up.

There is a girl in her back yard.

The girl is standing beyond the apricot tree, intently examining a corner of the lawn.

Myka Bering steps out of the house and walks over the perfectly level grass towards her.

“Hello?” she says cautiously, “Can I help you?”

The girl turns to look at her. She is maybe nine? ten? years old and has long, black hair and dark eyes. She is wearing jeans and an adult’s t-shirt that says ‘A WOMAN’S PLACE IS IN THE REVOLUTION’.

“Do you rent?” she asks Myka.

“What?” says Myka.

“Do you rent this house?” says the girl, and then, perhaps supposing that Myka may not be familiar with the concept of renting, she adds: “Does somebody else own your house and you pay them money each week in order to live in it?” She has a vaguely mid-Atlantic accent.

“Oh. No,” says Myka. “I own it. Me and the bank.”

This answer seems to please the girl, though she doesn’t smile. She turns fully around now, so that she faces Myka and holds up an envelope. “Then can I—” she stops, frowns, takes a breath, and starts again “—may I plant pumpkins in your garden?”

Myka blinks. “Well, no. I don’t have a garden… Sorry, who are you? And, uh, where did you come from?”

The girl points with the hand not holding the envelope. The green gate is now ajar.

“How on earth did you manage to open that?” Myka asks. “I was sure it was rusted shut. You live next door? I thought the Menzies were there?”

The girl shrugs. “I don’t know who they are,” she says, “I live there now, with mamma.” She gives an Old World pronunciation to the last word. “Which means we’re neighbours. So can I — may I — plant pumpkins in your garden?”

Myka Bering finds herself looking about for another adult to take over, but her back yard stubbornly persists in containing only the two of them. “Hey, I really don’t know if you should be talking to strangers without your, uh, mamma,” she tries, “You don’t know anything about me. I could be a bad guy.”

“Mamma says it’s perfectly reasonable to speak to people one doesn’t know because otherwise one will never find friends or make one’s way in the world.” announces the girl, “And also that statistically I am in far more danger from family members than strangers,”

“Oh,” says Myka.

The girl nods. “I reminded her that she was my only family member. She said that I would do well to keep that fact in mind.”

Myka looks back at the green gate in the wall.

“So. Mrs Pérez gave everyone in the class pumpkin seeds today, and I want to plant my ones here, please.” The girl, it seems, will not be side-tracked by trivialities like stranger-danger. “She told us that they would be ready by Halloween, and we could make jack o’lanterns.”

“But why can’t you plant them in your back yard?” asks Myka.

With tremendous patience the girl explains. “Because we rent. And Mamma says I can’t dig up the lawn because the landlord mows the lawn himself and he will see. But you don’t rent, and you don’t have anything else growing here, only grass. So can I plant my seeds here?”

Myka Bering tries to think of a reason why the girl couldn’t plant pumpkin seeds in her back yard and fails.

“I… suppose you could,” she says. “Where would you plant them?”

The girl points at the corner she was inspecting. “I thought the pumpkins would be out of the way there.”

Myka examines the spot. It seems as adequate to the purpose as any other.

“Alright,” she says, tentatively, reluctantly. “But right at the edge, okay? I don’t want too much of my lawn dug up.”

The girl nods her agreement. “Thank-you,” she adds, very properly.

“Uh, I think pumpkins need a lot of water. Maybe? You’ll have to look it up. So you’ll have to water them regularly. I’m not going to,” says Myka, trying to regain ground she suspects she has never really had since this conversation began.

“Of course,” says the girl. “I have a watering can.”

“Well then,” says Myka, taking a step towards the garden shed, “Um, do you want a spade or…?”

“I have a trowel,” says the girl. “I only want to make small holes and drop each seed in. You don’t want your lawn dug up,” she reminds Myka.

“No,” says Myka. “I don’t. Well, uh. Okay. G’bye, then.”

“Good-bye,” says the girl, who is already turning towards the green gate in the fence, presumably to fetch her trowel.

Myka watches her disappear and then looks about the back yard. Everything appears quite normal, but she feels a faint apprehension of an approaching change... still beyond the horizon, but inexorably on its way, like the pressure drop before a thunderstorm. After a moment she shakes her head and goes back inside and finishes making her sandwich.

As she carries on with her work that afternoon, Myka Bering occasionally looks out through the window of the back bedroom-office and watches the girl at the end of the yard. The apricot tree obscures much of her activity, but she spends a lot of time carefully digging. And later she has a metal watering can which she judiciously applies to certain spots about her.

That evening Myka goes out to look over the girl’s labours. There, cut into the grass that ran along the fence line, are twelve black holes, each about the diameter of a coffee-cup. Myka looks back at the green gate. It is now shut. Still feeling a little uneasy Myka Bering walks back inside and begins to prepare her dinner.

[oflights]

top 10 books of 2023!!

thank you for tagging me, @elskanellis! i started drafting this right away, ran out of time to post it on 12/31, and am ~circling back now. i read 50 books in 2023, and these are my top 10 faves!

titles, brief #thoughts, etc. under the cut!

Himself, by Jess Kidd

this was so incredible and heart-wrenching and exciting to read. devastatingly beautiful/cheerful dirtbag lad busts into a small irish village to find out what happened to his mother, who was almost certainly murdered, and turns everything upside down. every character is so entertaining and funny and sharp, even the villains. the ending is incredible.

The Winners, by Fredrik Backman

i'd recommend this whole series, even if you don't care about hockey; it's so, so good and emotionally devastating. at its base, the series is about a hockey team in sweden, but really, this series belongs to the character of Benji Ovich, and it's a masterclass in building up a queer hero. it's unflinching in dealing with all that he goes through, and handles a lot of really difficult topics with deftness. the heart of his story, for me, is the question of what happens when you're in love with your best friend who is actually a despicable, evil person, and how can you ever forgive yourself for it?

The Iliad, translated by Emily Wilson

do i have to evangelize this one anymore? it's so fucking good. i've read it about 10 times at this point, i just couldn't bring myself to be finished with it. it's so refreshing and approachable and makes every single character leap off the page. it doesn't pull a single emotional punch (because homer doesn't! and wilson's like "don't look away!")

A Map for the Missing, by Belinda Huijuan Tang

this is one of those books that really comes together as a whole; i didn't know it was going to be a fave until i was finished with it. a chinese immigrant has to go back home to help search for his elderly father, who's gone missing. as he goes, every single thread of his past is tugged on and unravelled and the complexity and depth the narrative achieves is really astounding. the last few pages are an absolute gut-punch.

A Power Unbound, by Freya Marske

purely here for how it redeemed the entire series for me. i'm actually not a big romance person, though i did read more romance than ever this year; i just usually tend to get bored with the same sorts of romance tropes over and over (probably because that's what i read fic to get, not tradpub novels). this one doesn't do anything new or reinvent those tropes or anything, it's just really, really good and engaging and hot. the romance outshines the magic system/plot by far. i'd recommend the series overall, but this one has the best relationship in it AINEC.

Emily Wilde's Encyclopedia of Faeries, by Heather Fawcett

why do i always like middle grade authors who pivot to adult books waaay more than YA authors who do the same? like how are they so much better? that's definitely the case here. this is really fun fairy book (i went through a fairy phase over the summer) and packed a surprising emotional punch and a really lovely romance. i think it helped that the main character have major howl and sophie vibes. i'm excited for the sequel to come out in a few weeks!

Slewfoot, by Brom

god this was absolutely horrifying and brutal and also incredible? i actually can't believe this is here because it lost me through some of the worst of the witch trial torture (it goes really hard on it, as a warning, and i almost stopped there. her poor cat :/ i can almost never handle it when a cat dies) but!! i'm glad i stuck through because of the ending, which is phenomenal and makes every other bit of it worth it. the mythology is terrific and terrifying, too.

Small Things Like These, by Claire Keegan

possibly the best novella i've ever read? it just packs an incredible punch; it doesn't waste a single word, every square inch is a devastating look at the magdalene laundries and it doesn't hold back at all. so, so good.

Half a Soul, by Olivia Atwater

i'm so glad i discovered olivia atwater this year! this was during the Fairy Phase and it was just really fun and engaging. again, big howl and sophie vibes (this is such a high compliment from me) and i really love the second book in this series, too. it's just a really fun world to get lost in, and i'm excited to read more from this author this year.

He Who Drowned the World, by Shelley Parker-Chan

i had some problems with this, and i didn't love it as much as the first book, though i actually think most of those problems could've been solved with a third book and a longer runway. really wish this was a trilogy. that being said, this was still incredible. i loved every single narrative thread, there were zero emotional punches pulled, and i still think about these characters all the time. read this series if you haven't!!

[jenyifer]

I’ve read 10 more books let’s get a rec list here for future use for people to look up on my page or alone.

Disclaimer:I think reviews and opinions show a lot about who you are and your life exp so. I am a woman lover who is 30 with ADHD. I am cisgendered she/her. I like listening to books on my drive in and out of work. I’ve read and watched a lot of scifi and fantasy and these books reflect that too.

In order of most loved:

1. Most Ardently by Gabe Cole Novoa 🏳️‍⚧️🏳️‍🌈⏳ Historical Romance. this beautifully crafted novel moved me to tears. Set in a historical, mundane world, it captures the essence of the original while offering a fresh perspective.

2. Some Desperate Glory by Emily Tesh 👯‍♀️🏳️‍🌈👽🚀now MC Romance very very low I like to think she’s a little bit some where in the ace spectrum but 🥹🥹 Avicenna gives you enough gay vibes trust me. It is a real journey. MC is broken out of her brainwashing and tries to save the Earth and Universe. It’s high Sci-fi fun. I really loved it.

3. The Last Binding Trilogy by Freya Marske 🏳️‍🌈👯‍♀️🏳️‍🌈🪄⏳🔎 Alright each book is from a different intertwined couple’s POV. Each book is very much historical wizard mystery’s found family. Each book has steamy interesting spicy scenes. I find this series more impressive now because I still think about the couples and its universe was fun. Side note the last couple is the best.

4. The Tithenai Chronicles by Foz Meadows 🏳️‍🌈⏳🪄🔎 it’s more historical than super magical but both books have decent mysteries. It’s about an arranged royal marriage one comes from a conservative country suffering from trauma which we get to see but is treated respectfully and not harped on and the other is a warrior who is a little neurospicy. So Velasin is so dear to me I forgive a lot because he’s baby and I love him. They have non binary characters and disabled characters in the story being treated like people. There is some very spicy scenes in these two books. The new character in the second book so amazing they reminds me of Tennal from Oceans Echo in spirit anyway. I liked them. But his spicy scenes had me blushing for days. A con of this book is it’s very emotional so depression trauma warnings.

5. Sunbearer Trials by Aiden Thomas 🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍⚧️🦹🦜 I can’t believe I forgot to do a review of this one considering I really enjoyed it. So it’s YA dystopian Latin America folklore kind of like superhero and god goddess. Really heart warming found family coming of age. Also in the vein of hunger games etc. I loved the universe and the structure of the world. Each character was well developed throughout the book. Main character is someone you want to see succeed. I’m so excited for book 2. Lots of neurospicy peeps represented in my opinion.

6. Simon Snow Trilogy by Rainbow Rowell🏳️‍🌈🪄🧛🏻🐲 Also YA feel book one has a lot of Harry Potter jabs but it’s not a direct parody. I also think in book 2 3 they take jabs at diff genres which was fun. The series is very funny has perspective from all the characters. The universe is interesting. Romance is decent. Lovable characters. It isn’t good to think too hard about anything.

7. The Unbroken by CL Clark 👯‍♀️⏳👑🪄 this book would be higher up if I wasn’t iffy on the main couple individually I’d rank both leads pretty high on best characters. It’s a book about colonialism political magic rebellion found family. It’s action packed it’s interesting with a good mystery. A disabled main character and a more male presenting lesbian with is something new. Touraine is going to do what Touraine thinks in her heart while Luca serves with her brain and wallet.

8. So this is ever after by f. t. Lukens 🏳️‍🌈👯‍♀️🪄👑⏳ Does what it says on the tin is YA. Medieval setting with standard fantasy quest group. Very easy read.

9. Out of the Blue by Jason June 🏳️‍🌈🧜🏻‍♂️🎬🎓very YA vibes. Very romance. About a nonbinary mer person on their journey out of the ocean to help a human and a film obsessed gay chubby human on his journey to get over a relationship. I would have this book ranked higher except for the ending and School vibes do kind of make me cringe.

10. Temperature of You and Me by Brain Zepka 🏳️‍🌈🦹🔎 about a boy whose skin is fire and human who works at a dairy queen. Mystery is weak some holes in the plot.Romance very immature. School age kids.

Okay so audible had a sale anddd I got a couple titles on there (if I have to spend a fortune on gas and tolls I’ll spend a small one on the books that keep me sane) and I have 4 Libby audiobooks checked out. I still have a hard time with wlw books. Or too much thinking. It needs to hit a sweet spot for me since I’m usually driving in hard conditions so can’t use the super brain on the story. Anyways any suggestions or recs would be welcomed!!!

[televinita]

Reading Triage

I'm in a bit of a reading slump at the moment (a word which here means: I have only finished 4 books in 2 weeks), so what better way to fix it than by chucking back all my library books, picking out a brand-new set and/or placing holds, and then talking out the options!

CURRENTLY READING / LISTENING

1. A Study in Drowning - Ava Reid: this was all the rage last fall and I shrugged it off as "fantasy, not my thing," but fantasy IS kind of turning out to be my thing this year. So when I saw the new special edition w/ stenciled edges (featuring shelves of old books) in a Goodreads giveaway, I immediately investigated it further and oh, we're starting in dark academia, in an architectural college?? There's a house design contest?? Well that sounds great! So I'm giving it a go; got about 40 pages in last night.

2. The Spellshop - Sarah Beth Durst: this is my 2nd time around with it, because I wanted to hear the audiobook version. About 90 minutes left, and I better hop-to because it's due in 2 days.

3. One Of Our Own - Lucinda Berry: this is a just-under-4-hours audio exclusive thriller (is thriller the right word, it seems like a pretty domestic mystery), and I am literally only here because it's dual narration and the main narrator is A.J. Cook. The plot looks bland and unpleasant and after only 8% in I can all but guarantee it would be a 2-star in print, but I might give it 3 because listening to her voice is a treat.

AVAILABLE NOW

4. Legends & Lattes - Travis Baldree: attempt #2 to salvage the cozy coffee shop vibes out of an otherwise uninteresting story, now that the temps are finally about to drop down into at least the 50s, and if it doesn't work this time I quit forever because I have better fantasy places to be (but I really do wanna savor the romanticizing of coffee + baked goods).

5. Strongheart, Wonder Dog of the Silver Screen - Candace Fleming: I didn't buy it, but I am now more motivated than ever to read this. It's actually much shorter than I thought, being about 50% illustration, and I want to dive right in. Might even do so as soon as I post this, tbh.

6. Passenger Princess - Morgan Elizabeth: I feel honor-bound by winning it to read enough to offer a review. Honestly, the first chapter was quite fun, so if I just go in with determination to skip straight over the porn and judge the rest of the story on its own merit, I might enjoy it. (I will of course be judging more harshly for its Goodreads rating)

7. In The Shadow of Lakecrest - Elizabeth Blackwell: a 1920s Rebecca-esque novel that I own and have been meaning to read for 2 years now. I got so close to cracking it open this time...and I still might, but more likely the other books on this list will take priority.

8. Final Girls and/or The Last Time I Lied - Riley Sager: the references in Middle of the Night finally got me interested in these 2 I skipped the first time around, but it's still just...so hard to convince myself to try them, even when I crave a guaranteed good thriller. There's a reason I skipped over them the first time around, and that reason is they just look and sound generic as hell.

9. The Book of Cold Cases and/or Murder Road - Simone St. James: I spent literally the entire month of October a) not reading any ghost stories for lack of good options and being sad about it, and b) forgetting about this author literally every time I went to the library until the 28th. But now they're here! So...maybe! (more than likely pushed off til next year though. I don't feel particularly excited when I look at them, even though the first book at least has been on my TBR since its release)

10. The Widow of Rose House - Diana Biller: almost forgot one of the few remaining from my last round! A random checkout because it looks like an unusual sort of historical romance with like seven different appealing elements; lemme just copy the summary:

It's 1875, and Alva Webster has perfected her stiff upper lip after three years of being pilloried in the presses of two continents over fleeing her abusive husband. Now his sudden death allows her to return to New York to make a fresh start, restoring Liefdehuis, a dilapidated Hyde Park mansion, and hopefully her reputation at the same time. However, fresh starts aren't as easy as they seem, as Alva discovers when stories of a haunting at Liefdehuis begin to reach her. But Alva doesn't believe in ghosts. So when the eccentric and brilliant professor Samuel Moore appears and informs her that he can get to the bottom of the mystery that surrounds Liefdehuis, she turns him down flat. She doesn't need any more complications in her life--especially not a handsome, convention-flouting, scandal-raising one like Sam. Unfortunately, though Alva is loath to admit it, Sam, a pioneer in electric lighting and a member of the nationally-adored Moore family of scientists, is the only one who can help. Together, the two delve into the tragic secrets wreathing Alva's new home while Sam attempts to unlock Alva's history--and her heart

COMING SOON

11. Tracker's Canyon - Pam Withers: a YA novel about a teen using his outdoor/trailing skills to find his dad and evade people who may want to harm his dad (or him). It's been on my Goodreads TBR for 5+ years, picked when I was scrolling through looking for I.L.L. options. Looks fun and also relatively short, under 200 pages. Should be here in a week or two at the most.

12. A Wizard's Guide to Defensive Baking - T. Kingfisher: library doesn't have a physical copy so waiting on the e-book, estimated 3 weeks. I haven't read her before but I kept seeing this on BookTube and its title and cover looked so fun and cute. Probably a 3-star time but I still want in.

13. Piranesi - Susanna Clarke: this was on my original fall TBR at the beginning of September, and I've been slowly making my way towards it. No promises I'll read it this year, but if I don't get too distracted by the new shinies, the fact that this is much shorter than I thought has made me more willing to listen to its many rave reviews. Currently on a waitlist; "my" copy is due back on Halloween but I of course have zero faith in the people of this county at this point, so I'm going to bet more realistically on the second week of November (next copy is due back 11/9).

14. Before We Were Us - Denise Hunter: romance about an engaged woman who develops amnesia, not only forgetting her (relatively new) relationship but still viewing her middle-of-nowhere job at his family resort as a pit stop and ready to get the hell outta dodge; he must convince her to fall in love with him again. I WILL be going full Chuck/Sarah with this. Currently on-order at the library and I am first in line.

15. Beyond Ivy Walls - Rachel Fordham: This whole summary just sounds Immediately Great and like the kind of historical (1903) romance I love; wish I had access to a physical copy but waiting on the audiobook instead, estimated time 3 weeks. Love 2 have everything come crashing in at once!

All of Monticello believes Otis Taylor has been away fostering his musical genius. But the truth is that his father exiled him long ago, rejecting Otis's appearance and the scars that came with it. . . . At twenty-three years old, Sadie West left her family farm and found employment at the Hoag feather duster factory. Desperate to save money and help her family make ends meet, she trespasses and finds shelter in an abandoned building--and is thrown in the path of the town's mysterious bachelor. Otis's wounds are deep, but as Sadie's friendship with him grows, she begins to fall for the man beneath the mask

COMING EVENTUALLY!

16. Graveyard Shift - M.L. Rio: the reviews are so middling and I am also sure it will be a 3-star at best, but damn it, I got excited about this one months ago and now I HAVE TO KNOW (this is why knowing about new releases sucks! don't do it!). Waiting on an ebook copy because the library doesn't have a physical one. It is an absurdly long wait for such a short book (14 weeks?! i am PRAYING for a physical copy to be ordered soon).

17. Games Untold - Jennifer Lynn Barnes: on the other hand I am first in line when this releases in a couple weeks. Beyond excited for a collection of short stories and novellas aka BONUS SCENES for The Inheritance Games. (sometimes knowing about new releases doesn't suck)

18. 26 Ways To Come Home For the Holidays - Jennifer Joy: a "Thanksgiving to Christmas" novella romance about a department store in the 1940s. I have been excitedly waiting for it to be seasonally appropriate (for maximal impact) since spring. I still gotta give it 3 or 4 weeks though.

19. What Does It Feel Like? - Sophie Kinsella: 12th in line for 8 copies, at the library that doesn't show due dates so I'm guessing this may not arrive until December, at which point I might roll it over to the new year. Still, if it comes sooner, interested in this novella mirroring her real-life health crisis.

[that-shy-fanfic-writer]

What started as an interview (aka writing practice) to get to know my OC better turned into more of an introduction into who they are and where they come from, so I decided to fix it up and share it here. Enjoy?

Interview with my OC

Lavender: Okay, Mercy. They're all yours.

Mercy: Ooh, this is so exciting! My first real taste of social media! Hi, random strangers on The Internet! My name's Mercy Fey! I can't wait to share my story with you all!

Lavender: Don't get too excited. This is just to test the waters. Why don't you tell us a little about yourself?

Mercy: Sure! So first off, while I share traits with Y/N characters—or Reader Inserts, what have you—I'm not a Reader Character. I am my Own Character and would appreciate being treated as such.

Lavender: Wow, you just jumped right into that. Can you explain what you mean? That you share traits with Reader Inserts?

Mercy: I'm what you'd call non-human, or maybe human adjacent? I don't have a solid appearance so my features are always changing, hard to pin down. That's what I mean when I say I share characteristics of a Y/N. But I'm an OC. Please don't mix me in with them. Besides, I have a name and belong to a Creator, as much as I don't want to admit it.

Lavender: Why not?

Mercy: Why would any character want to have the self-awareness of the Fourth Wall? It means we're being controlled by forces outside of ourselves. It means we're not Real. I can't speak for all characters, but I'm sure the Truth can be mind breaking to some. However, while I don't like to admit I have a Creator, I can accept that I have an Author. Which is more fun, because that means I have just as much control over my person as she does.

Lavender: … Right. Would you mind sharing some things about the world you inhabit?

Mercy: Nope! I live in a pocket dimension on the outskirts of the omniverse, just this side of the Fourth Wall, at the edges of Reality. It's how I can connect to everything from the Real World while also Knowing there are a multitude of other worlds beyond mine that are Fictional. And I can access all of it right here at Home.

Lavender: Speaking of, what does Home look like?

Mercy: Well, it's empty, for one. Kinda like the anti-void, just pure white all around with a House built for me at its center. Or maybe it was created? I have no idea how it got here, but I'm pretty sure it's been here since the beginning of my own existence, and it can change its shape to whatever I want. The Background too, outside, depending on my mood. Sometimes, I'd want a forest setting, sometimes a city scene. Not that there's anyone else who lives in it. Just the sounds of a city. Like ambience or whatever.

Lavender: It must get lonely.

Mercy: Not really. I can keep my own company well enough. And if I'm bored, I have lots to do! There's a library that holds all the books of Reality and then some! Fanfiction too! And I've got a TV that plays movies and shows, some YouTube videos, blah blah blah. I've never had access to The Internet before now, though. At least, not like this! Especially social media sites. Oh! But I can break the fourth wall sometimes! When I want to—or rather, whenever the Author remembers. She forgets too, a lot. Hah! Anyway, breaking the fourth wall is usually the only way I can learn all the Meta things, like fandom theories, how people in Reality behave, The News. Awful times y'all live in, by the way. How do you cope?

Lavender: Let's move on. Is there anyone in particular that has, or had, an influence on you?

Mercy: Oh, yeah, for sure. The Author, mostly. Have I mentioned I'm completely non-gendered? There's absolutely nothing down there! Or up here! I checked! But because of the Author's influence, my pronouns are sometimes she/her because she identifies as female herself and tends to project. And sometimes there are characters I find cool and inspiring—like AVA by Inyahs and that one Frequently Isekai-ed Protagonist who, by the way, is a Reader Insert—so I'd say they have an influence on me too. It's one of the reasons why the Author can't pin me down. My appearance is vague at best and I can flip emotions, personalities, thoughts at the drop of a hat.

Lavender: Okay, we gotta wrap it up soon, so only a few more questions. What would you do if your favorite characters suddenly showed up in your world?

Mercy: Well, I'd want to play, obviously! My first time getting to meet people from The Outside? And they're characters I know? Heck yeah! I'll give 'em a whole tour, show them everything! And we can hang out and play!

Lavender: That's… very in character for you, I just realized. Huh. Speaking of showing them everything, what can you tell us about your powers?

Mercy: I have all the powers! This world is my playground, mine to control, so I can teleport to wherever I want to be the moment I think it, or float in the air, fly even! I can change what I'm wearing with a snap of my fingers! Oh! I can also change whatever I want in the House, down to the room count or the size of the rooms or the furniture, and even how it appears from the outside. Though sometimes I have to ask House for requests. It can't know what I want until I ask, but sometimes it can. It's as fickle as I am, I guess.

Lavender: Are you saying the House is sentient?

Mercy: Maybe? At least semi-sentient? Or maybe the word is sapient? I dunno. Sometimes it'll do things without my input—I just have to think and it does it—and sometimes it won't, even if I ask. It can also hold a grudge, apparently. I learned that the hard way…

Lavender: Okay, last question. What would you do if you found yourself in another universe? A fictional one?

Mercy: I guess that depends? Which world am I in? What are the Rules there? If I'm not even familiar with the world or its characters, I'd observe what it's like. Do they have powers or magic? Am I in an AU of a world? Space or Sci-Fi? What's the genre? Once I figure it out, I keep observing. If it's a world I'm familiar with, I'll mess with the cast a li'l, play around, since I know what's going to happen—or has happened—for the most part. And if it's a world I don't know? Well, it won't be too hard to figure out the ropes. I'm a pretty fast learner. Especially with Knowledge from the Author. What she knows, I know. … Sometimes. Sometimes, she doesn't want me to know so I'm blocked from Knowing the Plot. That's just how it be, I guess.

Lavender: This interview had been pretty insightful, I think. Thanks for sharing your thoughts, Mercy.

Mercy: No prob. Now get back to writing my stories! I wanna play! Cringe is dead and fun is in! Go! Shoo! And to those who stayed to read the whole thing, thank you! Love you! Hope you enjoyed!

Lavender: Hey! That's my line! Scratch the love you part-

Mercy: Not anymore! I already said it. Now what are we still doing here, let's go!

[my-mt-heart]

I apologize in advance for the rant that's coming your way. If you're seeing this and you're having a good day - you're welcome to skip it.

I'm tired of the whiplash.

Melissa comes back, and then there is a string of articles basically teasing there will be heavy-handed shipbaiting in S2. Then we get a BTS interview, and now there's more to be sad about.

What is the point if the good news is overshadowed every time?

I did not get into this show to "obsess" over superficial characters. I got into this show because of its heartfelt storylines and strong character arcs. Carol and Daryl helped me sift through some dark things in my life, which I am grateful for. It felt nice to root for something precious and one-of-a-kind and funnel hope into two characters who deserved to find their happy ending together. Most people I know are still here because they think these characters deserve better. Ya know what? Because sometimes the world is shite and some days it's hard to find hope. These characters bring hope. And the fans deserve respect (not talking about the ones who were sending hate to actors and/or their families).

The current showrunner, with his contradicting statements, has done nothing but make me feel anxious - even though some of what was said was positive. He has done nothing to win my trust. The contradictions make me think he either doesn't know what story he wants to tell or, worse, he doesn't understand the characters he's working with. If storylines keep getting overlooked, and characters are treated like shipbaiting devices - what's the point of S3?

I'm happy to have Melissa and Caryl back; she's why I have a bead of hope. Her input is the only one I trust at this point. But I have no excitement left to give, and now I have one foot out the door. Until I see something that helps me trust this show again, that won't change.

Bring me a showrunner who understands these characters deeply. Bring me a director who makes room for meaningful stories. Bring me writers who write complex storylines that dive into the psyches of these characters and show us why we fell for them in the first place.

And for the love of all that's good and holy -Bring me strong and powerful female and POC voices. Bonus points for both.

I'm tired of watching POC characters get turned into walker fodder or shipping devices. I refuse to invest in a show where the characters I fell in love with get treated with callousness and shoved into storylines that don't honor them.

I'll simply find something else worth my time. Because you see, I know that my value isn't intrinsically attached to this show and the direction it takes. Sorry about the rant. It's one of those days. Peace be with you.

You don’t have to apologize for how you’re feeling. Everything you said is completely valid and to be honest, it’s where I’m at as well. Having Melissa back is amazing, and I know she has input, but it feels like she and her fans are still being punished. The lead actor reduces us to “obsessed” parasocial shippers, the current showrunner doesn’t acknowledge we exist let alone understand what Carol’s/Daryl’s/Caryl’s story means to us, “The Book of Carol” is being left out of promos, that and Melissa’s name aren’t in the casting calls. How can I trust the show to honor a narrative about a woman beating the odds time and time again when business practices show the opposite? How can I subscribe to AMC+ for a show called "Daryl Dixon" knowing it represents white male privilege 🤷🏻‍♀️ We need leadership to not only give us the heartfelt storylines and deep character arcs that we want, but also to uphold our core values, to nurture, not insult, our intelligence, and to give the lead actress the respect she deserves. That's why I think Melissa should get to choose the new showrunner.