#percy still shows and proves that his heart is so so good and so understanding and so wise

[crithaus]

I think about the "I live as long as Whitestone lives," Percy and Keyleth conversation and I am going to attempt to spit my feelings out about it but be warned I am both horrible at expressing my feelings and for some reason my brain will understand the base information of something said and completely shit out on the subtleties even if it should be easy so here we go

Keyleth has at this point known she is going to live for fucking ever, even without the Aramente, at some point on her journey the end mechanics will give her Timeless Body and she will age 1 year for every 10 she lives or something close to that, She knows that at the end of their adventuring shell live for So Long and that gives her an inordinate amount of time to, to borrow from kerrick's letter, tend to her Gardens. The weight of that time and her burgeoning leadership weighs on her deeply but even now at her young age she's already distanced herself a little bit from the mortals around her because she really isn't one, she knows she'll have time to figure her problems out, she doesn't have to worry about short-term because hers is like centuries long. Her story is long enough and she doesn't need reminding of it.

Percy, for all his responsibility shirking and for all his 'dumps Whitestone's rule on Cass immediately' and for all his flightiness, is both keenly intune with Whitestone's short-term and so deeply invested in it and it's people and the concept of their short-term and how truly short it is and how little time they all have ahead of them and it brings a maturity and wisdom, a bit of natural leadership, out in him that he rarely lets show what with his "I am the only adult in any given room," mindset. You can always count on Keyleth to be the voice of reason of the two of them in any given situation but not so here.

Keyleth wants to focus on helping the people of Whitestone' in the bunker, on the practical matters, and Percy is busy immortalizing the story of Whitestone thus far into the stone around them, and Keyleth rolls her eyes a bit at that and yeah to focus on that, the impractical, the roses and the fluff and the 'bragging' while the world is crumbling around them, when death looms over with a shadow none of them can outrun, it does seem a little silly, but Percy is quick to bring her back down to earth, because while Percy's frailish frame will only last out the century maybe, his legacy has lived on for many, and will live on for many many more, and all the souls in whitestone are his legacy and him, his beating heart, and he is theirs and they have lived far before he did and will live on far after as will he. And to be human, to be Percy, is to garden the tiniest plot of living breathing soil imaginable all your life, but to do so with every ancestor and descendant he will ever have at his side, one tiny plot turning into a living, thriving landscape, something that will outlive you but that will always always carry you and all that makes you beautifully and wonderfully yourself in it, like weaving a quilt

But the quilt is Whitestone and every hand has a stitch in it, and some hands spin the thread and some move the shuttle and some gather the cloth into baskets and this tapestry contains blood and death and tears and heartache and a man sticking a flower in his wife's hair, and a baby being brought out under the snow for the first time, the first good harvest and the last winter's crest, and the briarwoods dancing through the ballroom with the floor slick with gore, and Percy and Cass and Vesper, Julius, Melanie, and Yennan and that unnamed little boy who picks up that chalk, Percy's been living longer than any of them and will outlive the lot of them I know because despite his young age and despite his numerous other shortcomings, despite that his heart was always and forever will be rooted right here in Whitestone, in the most little moment possible, it helped keep him alive in his deepest, darkest moments. Even now when the world is crumbling around them again, Percy is there and Whitestone's heart is still beating, it still lives and so does he at the new end of the world in the dearth of all magic. He himself is so very shortsighted and despite that, when it counted, he was still so cognizant of the greater good and the importance of what it means to be human and to tell stories, and hope, and to have those stories and that hope live on even in such dire, desperate straits so one day far off from now, someone will find a message from someone long since dead like "hey, hello! I lived here! I loved here, I mattered and so will you, and you'll know my story and perhaps you'll stay and tell your own." Just like the handprints on la Cueva de los Manos.

Just ARGH, he can be so mature when he wants to be. He'll be right besides Keyleth even if it doesn't feel like it until she takes her own last breath, She will not go into that good and gentle night alone and Percy was trying to tell her that in his own Percy-ish way.

[popculturebuffet]

Thomas and Friends Season 2 Retrospective: Now With More Near Murders! (Comission for Lachiev)

Hello all you silly little engines and welcome to pop culture buffet were we dig deep and hearty into some of my faviorite media and throw the stale stuff out. And today we’re going back to the Isle of Sodor for another round of Stupid Train Children for @lachievpoststhings as it’s time for Season 2 of Thomas and Friends

As a quick recap: A few months back I took a look at the first season of the children show Thomas and Friends on comission... and I quite enjoyed it. While it’s obviously meant for younger children and not 30 year old man children, the show had charm, immacuatley constructed trains, and some truly gorgeous visuals from time to time. It was also hilariously weird from a bunch of conducters deciding to make lunch out of fish fished from a train’s engine to calling the controller of the railway “The Fat Controller” to said Fat Controller (Sir Tottingham Hat) bricking up a train “for always and always” for mildly disobeying him. It was a wild ride so I gladly agreed to hop back on the train once Lacheiv had the money for round 2. 

Well he finally did so i’m pushing the Venture Bros season 4b review back a bit (and likely not diong retrospectives monthly anymore anyways0, so we can get more antics. 

Production wise there isn’t as much to go into as last time, as I covered the origins of Thomas and Friends, how a reverend’s tale for his sick child lead to a children’s book and then a tv deal with producer Britt Alcroftt that spawned a still ongoing franchise. 

That said there’s still some intresting stuff: For starters this is the first series to have tales based on the good rev’s sons followup books, which were in part comissioned to have new books, instead of the original works. On top of that it also has two scrapped episodes and two that were later done next season: The first, Gordon Goes Foreign, which has Gordon determined to learn the name of the british railway, was scrapped for budget reasons, as it had Gordon journeying to the mainland and thus likely required a brand new set. Why it wasn’t done in later seasons like Percy’s Promise and Double Header, which we’ll undoubtly get to either later this year or early next year as i’m sure lachiev wants me to cover season 3, remains unknown to me and the wiki isn’t any help. 

The other scrapped episode had more understandable reasons for being scrapped, making it half way before Britt Alcroft scrapped it and with parts of the ep rejiggered for “Break Van” which ended up being the intro for Donald and Douglas, the twin scottish engines instead due to her citing the plot as actionless and too confusing... which judging from the summary I read I can agree, as it involves a special coach, the two swapping numbers and thus while not a lot to me probbaly isn’t the best thing for 5 year olds. I mean i’m all for not undereistmating your audiences intelegence but this is a bit much. 

Otherwise it’s mostly same as it ever was just with even more stupid trains to get our main cast into more hyjinks. So without further ado let’s dive into the episodes themselves so I can have a laugh at these silly train children. 

                                                            Coal: 

 Thomas gets mad at Henry for maybe accidently covering him in coal dust, Percy ends up getting covered himself. I nearly fall asleep

 While the picture here of thomas with murder in his heart is neat this is one of those episodes I honestly forgot till looking at the episode guide. It’s just kinda.. there and seems fairly weak for a season opener. 

                                                           Cows:

Gordon is a prick...

Which I won’t be counting as it may reach the thousands. He thinks henry is weak for having part of his cars uncoupled by a cow, only for one to prove to be unshooable when it shows up on the track. This one’s more like it as it gives the series cows

And has Gordon being punished for his hubris. And while god punishing the stupid train children for their hubris is the show’s mo, it’s the most satisfying when Gordon gets it as he’s the most insufferable. If anyone is going to make a fuss about something not being proper or right and get punished by divine retribution via something silly, it’s Gordon, though thanks to some later additions this season, he’s not the ONLY consitent asshole in the railyard. Just the most prominent. 

                                                          Bertie’s Chase

When Edward is an impatient cotton swab about Thomas being late, unaware he had a malfunction and Bertie had to take his passengers Bertie has to chase him up down and everywhere to get his passengers there. IT’s a neat story honestly, a rare full on spotlight for Bertie who may creepy me out a bit, as he looks like a car Leatherface would make for a london holliday, but is awful sweet.

                            Saved From Scrap/Thomas and Trevor

So in this one Edward retuns again, this time finding a traction engine named Trevor during a visit to the scrapyard. Trevor is the first new addition this season.. and also the creepiest. See as me and @jess-the-vampire who watched the first third of the season noticed Edward really, REALLY likes to talk about how his favoirite thing is to be with the children or just “the children” And look is this just bad phrasing? Probably. Is this the creepiest thing i’ve seen this week? Given i’ve seen a teenager eat ice cream off his pants with a manic grin, no. But is trevor inherently creepy looking and comes off like Thomas is going to have an adventure about finding a kidnapped child in the vicar’s basement with trevor wearing a creepy mask? yes. Also Trevor gets adopted by a Vicar. I just like typing the word Vicar. Vicar. Vicar. Vicar. Vicar. Vicarrrrrrr. It’s just fun to say. 

Thomas later becomes friends with Trevor against the advice of everyone and helps contribute to his child kidnapping shed by letting him be around kids more. Not much to say about this second one or either of these other than i’d love to see Ethan Hawke voice a kidnapping train. Moving on

                                                    Old Iron

Pretty standard stuff: One train is a dick to another, god punishes the other train for his other hubris and the two bond. Standard day on sodor. 

                                              Percy and the Signals

This one is just 5 Minutes of Trains Being Dicks to each other.. which granted could and should be the title of the show, but still. Percy pranks, Gordon

And then Edward 

Like Gordon geninely deserves it because he’s Gordo  but Edward really did nothing. Also Edward gets punished.. despite his prank being told he got a message from the Fat Controller, aka his train dad, telling him to wait. Like.. Fat Controller.. dude.. Edward did nothing wrong. He thought he was listening to your orders. I mean it’s still far bellow sealing a train up to psychologically break him into obedience, so he’s grown as a person, but it’s also still what experts define as a “dick move”. The two get back at Percy for his hubris with a fake signal, which is pretty clever. All and all a highlight of the season as Percy suddenly being a prankish dick for no reason, the fat controllers weird hatred of edward and Gordon getting shamed all work to make this a fun one. 

                                           Duck Takes Charge

We meet new train Duck whose only real diffrence is his cool unique shape. He does make an impression though, not taking Gordon and the other big engines shit and having him and percy block them in. THe Fat Controller has none of it and tells them off for acting out.. and the bigger trains off for acting like they run the place, telling them if he had enough tunnels he’d brick in each and every one of their cabooses.... since I assume these trains do not have asses and i’m frankly scared to ask. I mean they have faces. So they could possibly eat. Either way i’m not sleeping tonight. Next!

                                                       Percy and Harold

We get our third new face, there are a LOT this season, with Harold, a hellicopter. And the effect for him is really cool as he’s clearly some sort of remote control hellicopter but not only looks real, but takes off impressively. How they pulled that off nor had him do so in time with the trains as this one focuses on Percy racing harold, I have no idea but it’s artistry like this that makes this series enjoyable. That and sentient vechiles being dicks. Harold claims it’s the end of trains with his existance and to make way for Homo Superior and such, so Percy and his fireman decide to prove him wrong with a race, which Percy wins. And honestly like Percy’s conductor, fireman and passengers I was rooting for him to kick this helicopters ass , and he did and it was wonderful. This was another highlight of the season and pure fun. I”ll also say I like harold’s design as he looks like the only vehcile character to not be wearing a freshly cooked face.

                                                 The Runaway

Thomas goes in for repairs but comes back with his brakes stiff and ends up running away due to a stupid coachman not knowing to compensate. It’s a fine enough episode with an intresting enough premise. 

                                      Percy Takes the Plunge

So this one’s sort of a sequel to the Mine episode from last time, as Percy figures he can ride on water

Ignoring Thomas’ warnings about a sign warning danger as Thomas learned about that the hard way. Naturally .. well God dosen’t even have to punish him for his hubris this time, dumbass goes over a bridge into the water and the Fat Controller simply leaves him there a while to teach him the lesson. It’s honestly the most vindictive the guy’s been since he bricked up poor Henry, but unlike that bit of psychological tourture, this bit of torture feels a TAD more warranted.  I mean it’s still a lot.. but Percy was warned about this, knew what happened with Thomas, and knew this was risky, and has PEOPLE inside him. Even if he wasn’t hauling passengers his fireman and coachmen were still inside, meaning they could’ve died. So yeah, leave the stupid train child in the lake for a few hours, let him learn not to nearly kill people with his stupidity. 

                                           The Diesel Trilogy

The next three episodes center around a new addition to the yard, a Diesel train... and it’s clear the good reverened REALLY didn’t like Diesels as Diesel is a huge asshole, and the first outright antagonist the series has had. While Gordon can be one, because he’s gordon, and the other trains take turn instigating the conflict, it’s really just a musical chairs of jackassery, and their just as likely to be the hero or simply learn a lesson via a horrifying accident. 

In contrast Diesel is from the start an antagonist, and the other trains and fat controller only like him because he uses his smooth seductive voice and sexy backing soundtrack to seduce them into beliving him. Though behind the curtain instead of being a hard worker he’s natural a prickupine who only wants to do what he does and belivies in Disel superiority. I nevfer thought we’d be dealing with Train racisim but that shows I just hadn’t been paying enough attention. 

So Duck let’s Disel fall on his own train-sword by letting him pull some old trucks that don’t move as well and letting his own ego make a fool of himself. 

So Big Daddy Cool naturally takes this as you’d expect.. and plots to get Duck banished by sweet talking the trucks into spreading lies about Duck saying shit abotu the big engines, knowing Grodon’s pride and ego will cause him to raise a fuss, as will the others. The Fat Controller is forced to send Duck away, and Duck spends the next ep in exile hauling cargo. 

And this episode.. is a treat as it has one of the more bonkers moments in the series thus far

So the Trucks, being nature’s second most perfect assholes behind Gordon, push Duck and cause him to nearly have an accident, barely switching rails.. but crashing into a barbershop. Duck tries to apologize but the Barber’s repsonse.. is to lather him with shaving cream in anger. I mean sure that’s one way to take nearly dying by train in your stupidly close to the rails barbershop. 

So Duck is lauded as a hero and barberman repents by washing his face off while Disel got sent away offscreen. AN EPIC CONCLUSION.. which honestly it kinda was. I mean how many trilogies end with barbershop train crashes? I mean would lord of the rings have been better if it included Frodo getting a shave and having a train come in while sam who was obviously shaving his partner lathers up the train? yes. Yes it would have. Case dismissed. 

                                        Donald and Douglas Duology

Fittingly our next two chapters are about a set of twins. Yes engines can have twins, I don’t know how and i’m comfortable not having nightmares imaginging how that works in this universe.

The Fat Controller needs extra help around the yard, so he brings in Donald and Douglas, two scottish engines, with accents that are about as Scottish as Flintheart Glomgold. It sounds like someone trying to remember how to do scottish while drunk on Absynthe. It’s hilariously pathetic

So the Fat Controller plans to “send one home” which is cold for fire them from his canon into the murky depths surrounding the isle of Sodor. They are loyal to each other though as when Donald is bullied by a break van, Douglas defends his brother.. BY VIOLENTLY ASSAULTING THE CAR. I mean...it’s more just shoving him but he has no arms so he can’t take a crowbar to him and the thing has no head to put on a curb and stomp good. He has to work with the tools whatever cruel god made these trains sentient gave him. 

Eventually though both are in danger as Donald and or Douglas accidently gets injured and the other one ends up CCASUING A MASSIVE ACCIDENT THAT KILLS THE BREAK CAR. Yes really. Apparently only trains get to surivive hubris. I mean look at him up there. He fucking died! His face is just.. being carried up there. This is the first time one of these characters has out and out died. Like I knew they’d get into stupid accidents due to their own hubris, it’s the shows basic plot, but holy shit. 

The two are naturally in danger of being sent home after the homicide but the next episode has the two proving to be heroes despite having killed a man.. er car... abomination?

Okay good then. They save Henry who apparently hasn’t been through enough and got trapped in a snow bank, and the trains, nervous about an announcment from the fat controller, call a Deputation to save them and force a nervous Percy to do it because

The Fat Controller is also a mild dick about it telling them “I AM THE OUTER GOD EMPEROR YOU’LL DO AS I’LL SAY OR GET SENT TO THE MINES!”.. but was going to save them anyway. A fun enough two parter, especially the second half with Percy’s nervousness being hilarous. 

                                           Thomas Comes to Breakfast

So you had enough of Trains crashing into buildings people stupidly put close to the end of traintracks? 

Then good because it’s Thomas turn to nearly kill some people and this time he has no valid reason like poor duck. Thomas is told by his conducter , jokingly that he can “drive himself”... which brings up a weird thing about this series. See the trains can SOMETIMES move all alone without a conductor or at least enough, but sometimes they can’t move at all and now this one gives us a third flavor, they can move a little but can’t do everything. 

And I do get it, i’m asking for consitent lore from a show about stupid train childrne. The lore is “whatever the story needs”. But at the same time in a show where the layout of sodor and areas are clearly well thought out, why isn’t how the trains move thought out?

Anyways Thomas gets it in his head he can move without a master, and pays for his.. hubris I guess? I mean.. dude should be able to move his own body. he shouldn’t NEED a driver to make sure he can move properly he should just be able to do it. The more they reveal about these trains the more I go...

I mean... i’d watch Jordan Peele’s Thomas, wouldn’t you?

Anyways Thomas crashes into the station masters house, which I get why it’s near the station, obviously it’s a short commute to work.. but once again WHY IS IT AT THE END OF TRAIN TRACKS. And this time it wasn’t just some adults milling about... there were CHILDREN in there. Thomas the Tank Engine nearly killed a whole family. 

He gets punished of course but.. you may see now why I take these comissions. While the money is very nice and in this case helped me when I needed it most, this series is just.. keeps baffling me. It’ll be a pretty standard kids show one second and then have death, near murder and exile the next. This is one of the times I really love my job. 

                                         The Daisy Duology

This one focuses on another new Disel, Daisy, who is full of herself, refusing to pull milk and only doing the jobs she does though unusually for this series she’s not punished for her hubris with some horrible accident, but instead extra work after percy gets hurt doing her work and is chewed out by the fat controller> Though as a sign of the changing writers, Daisy , unlike Diesel, actually reforms, befriends the engines and thus sticks around. We don’t see her the rest of the season, but it is a nice change of pace. Overall an okay two parter, though it does underline an issue with the season: it intorduces WAY too many characters. While it was a mild problem last season, most of them stuck around. But at this point we have 11 trains in the yard, a tractor, a pedophile, a bus, and a helicopter, not to mention temproary character disel and two MORE characters next episode. I’m fine with huge piles of characters in a series: it was one of the charms of Ducktales 2017 and Bleach has slowly won me over on it having so many and introducing them so fast as I read through it, even though it is often pushing it itself. But you have to have PERSONALITY in your giant bag of characters to justify having so many or it just falls apart. The characters of Thomas are mostly interchangable over these two seasons, with only their histories and very slight diffrences. We don’t need even MORE added to the mix. It’s hard enough keeping track of the ones we DO have. 

                                                     The Diseaseal 

So we’re thankfully at our final intros for the season, Bill Ben and Boco.. and while I stand by my rant as while having very unique and neat purpopses (the scottish twins are accident trains while these two transport china clay), they have the same personality. Seriously their both mischevous sets of twins. But again depsite standin gby my rant.. they do look neat, with unique deisgns, nice bright orange unique colors , especially in a series that tends to rely heavily on red, blue or green for it’s engines, and a cool overhang design. 

The two decide to play a trick on a Disel that stole their trucks with their firemans approval but get in trouble somehow for it. Not a bad one as the twin magic is fun to see and Boco is the first Diesel to not be an ass at all, with the whole mess being a misunderstanding (though again why the two are punished when their drivers also participated is a mystery best left to God Emperor Fat Controller)

                                           Gordon Is a Dick Again Wrong Road

Gordon sucks suprising no one, and complains about how the side tracks the other engines take are “not proper” and has to do it himself> This episode sure did happen

                                              Edward’s Exploit

This is one of the season highlights. Bertie is driving Tourists around sodor as is James, whose exausted. Gordon wants to kill him for being old. I’m not even joking, he half jokes about James being sent to scrap. Thankfully other trains get pissed at him and James gets his finest hour, as he has to pull his coaches in the rain, while tired, and barely going on. So Gordon for once keeps his big trap shut. All is well

                                                 The Ghost Train

Percy decides the best course of action after Thomas tells him he ain’t afraid of no ghosts.. is to prank thomas by pretending to be dead and haunting him. 

All in all a REALLY fun episode I suspect was for Halloween, with a creative premise (Percy sees a g-g-g-host and thomas dosen’t belive him), some fun visuals and a geninely creepy atmosphere despite being about stupid train children pranks. Easily one of the best episodes of the season

                                             Wooly Bear

Thomas makes jokes about Percy being a catterpillar due to collecting hay lately.. and somehow gets the victory when Percy ends up covered in hay?

                                   Thomas and the Christmas Tree

We once again end on a high and once again i’ts a christmas episode as Thomas goes to get the christmas tree only to get caught in a blizzard. it’s a fun but tense story as it’s up to the scottish twins to save him and the other engines worry of him being sweet, as is the heartwearming ending with all the trains, car like vehicles and pedophile traction engines. it’s a solid ending.

                                        Final Thoughts

Season 2 was a mixed bag. On the one hand the new set pieces, some of the new effects and some of the nonsense was great. The crashes into houses and barbershops, the murders, attempted murders and suggested murders, it was all lovely and there were truly some great episodes. It’s main weakeness is it really just felt like more of the same outside of the breif injection of antagonisim with diesle. New thing gets introduced, maybe their a dick, maybe someone’s a dick to them, rinse and repeat. It really did nothing new with the cast nor really made them stand out from each other except prized asshole gordon. It wasn’t a bad season and i’m not expecting deep, rich character arcs from an 80′s television sohw for young children.. but I expected a bit more of a step up from a shows second season. Time will tell if Season 3 improves on this or not. But that’s up to Lachiev whenm, and if , he wants to do it. So for now I say good bye to these noble stupid train chidlren and their fat god emperoror dad controller and had fun doing it. Thanks for reading, consider joining my patreon, and have a good day, night or whatevers. 

[fbfh]

I mean, you did ask - leo x reader

all  characters are aged up to 18+ for smexy subtext

word count: 2k

pairing: leo x gn child of calliope reader

genre: adventure, romance, hints at a lowkey soulmate au

summary: after a bumpy reunion turned interrogation with your friends, you finally prove to Leo that you’re someone worth catching up with

warnings: swearing, friends hold you at knife point (for good reason) memory loss, dimesion/reality travel, the phrase “horrible sexy little goose” not about an actual animal, moderate time difference between worlds, reader is acting like a cocky piece of shit half the time, you call yourself sexy a lot, annabeth slaps reader and reader is unbothered, reader and leo hae very visceral reactions upon seeing each other, piper picks up on this, moderately aggressive face grabbing, discussing personal info with someone somewhat privately, brief mentions of hand holding and hair pulling during sex, you spill tea about the rest of the demisquad, I think that’s it pls tell me if I missed any

song rec: choke - i don’t know how but they found me

a/n: this is from a very vivid daydream I had so er ah if reader seems op coded that’s cause she is uwu

You were excited to reunite with your friends after so long, but being tied up and held hostage at knifepoint by the people you love who don’t even remember you wasn’t the welcome wagon you were hoping for. Then again, as a child of Calliope, you can’t say you’re surprised. 

Apollo has a lot of kids, but demigod children of the muses are exceptionally less common. They’re volatile, really powerful, extremely engrossed in their art, and usually care more about their latest thesis paper or painting or manuscript than going on quests, and more often than not have very specific powers. You, for example, love quests but feel like you never get to go on any, usually because you’re fighting monsters somewhere else. One fun little power you inherited from your mom is - somewhat involuntary - dimension shifting. 

A lot of times you just get summoned somewhere else, with a little inherent background knowledge and your weapon, set free into the new world like a horrible sexy little goose. There’s usually some kind of objective you need to meet; find this person, set something in motion, give someone support in a time of need, deliver a package. After that, you get sent back to your family at camp half blood. The catch, one of them at least, is that a few days Somewhere Else could be no more than a few minutes in your homeverse. 

Another catch is that because of all that, and the fact that you wouldn’t know how to begin explaining, let alone if anyone would believe you, no one knows you can do this yet. Chiron has an idea, but you’ve never told anyone outright. 

You guess now is as good of a time as any to come clean, as Percy holds his sword threateningly close to your neck. You let out a disbelieving laugh, and bite the inside of your cheek.

“Okay, okay… you want the truth?” he starts to back off, and you continue, leaning forward, “I’m not surprised you’d want to know where someone this sexy-” your words cut off as Annabeth’s hand slaps you across the face. You let out a laugh of disbelief, cheek stinging.

“A cheap shot, Annabeth? Wow, I really didn’t take you for the type,” she grabs your face, leaning in close, knife once again against your throat. 

"How do you know my name." She hisses, and behind her, the door opens. Messy dark curls peek over her head in your vision and you know instantly who it is. Your heart starts pounding, loud and hard, and something heavy starts swirling deep in your gut. Your eyes lock as soon as he enters the room and an instinctive smile blooms on your face, knowing what's inevitably on its way. 

"Hey Sparky…" 

Your voice, slow and drawling (and, he'd be lying if he didn't say kind of very sexy) impales him as soon as he enters the room. He watches your pupils expand, eyes locked, immediately swept away by your magnetic aura. A fox like grin decorates your pretty face, and he gets the feeling you know more than you let on. Way more. He's so drawn to you on a guttural level, way more than he's ever been to someone before. His face is hot, and when you slowly wink at him, he feels flames erupt on his cheeks. It takes him a second to put it out, feeling your white hot gaze on him the entire time. 

Piper, who's been helping with your interrogation, looks back and forth between you two as this progresses, taking in a breath and mumbling a shocked, "Oh," as she begins to understand. 

"How are those repairs coming?" Jason asks, oblivious to everything that's happening between you two. 

"Uh… nearly done…" Leo mutters, watching as you hold back an elated giggle at the sound of his voice. You never forget how good it feels to see him again, but the fresh feeling is always better than you can imagine. Jason glances between you two, and walks over to Leo, suspicious of your interest in him. 

"I'll walk you back," Jason says, glaring at you. Your eyes stay locked with Leo's until the door finally closes again. Piper stares at you, bewildered by the tension turned to frantic energy crackling around both you and Leo. She can sense it on him even after he's out of the room. 

Annabeth finally drops your face, pacing and pinching the bridge of her nose. Percy slams him hands down on the table and levels his face with yours. 

"I'm gonna ask you one last time. How do you know us?" 

You stare at the table for a second, still thinking about him. You have to see him again. You’ve waited for too long, you just can’t do it anymore. 

“H- okay. Um,” You blink a few times, facade falling away almost instantly as you look up in a silent prayer that this doesn’t go as badly as you feel like it will. You sigh, looking back up at the other people in the room, a new, deliberate intention in your eyes that they hadn’t seen before. 

“You want to know why I’m here?” 

Their answer is the silence that follows.

“You’re not gonna believe me.” They look around at each other, collectively thinking about everything they’ve been through in the last year alone.

“Try us.” Annabeth replies. You sigh again, and introduce yourself. “...I’m a child of Calliope, muse of epic poetry, and I know you all because we grew up together. One of the fun - quirks, I inherited from my mom is traveling into different stories, or realities, I guess. It’s hard to control, and sometimes happens involuntarily. I adapt to wherever I am, and the universe sort of auto adjusts to follow the rules that stories have to follow. 

The reason you don’t remember me is because I was gone for a really long time, and your story had to keep going. Trying to find me wouldn’t have moved the plot forward, questioning where I went would have been confusing, so it did the simplest thing and edited me out so you could get closer to meeting your objectives.”

Once again, their silence is your answer. 

“Guys, sidebar.” Annabeth says, pulling Percy, Jason, and Piper out of the room for a moment. The come back in a little while later, and she looks you dead in the eye.

“If you really know us as well as you say you do, prove it. Tell us you’d only know if we were as close as you say we were.” 

You sigh yet again, having lost count at how many times that’s happened today alone. You roll your shoulders and bob your head, irritable that you’re still restrained and itching to move. 

“Is there anything we can do before the whole tell me something really personal thing?” 

Percy looks at you, challenging.

“Can you do it or not?”

Another noise of exasperation leaves you, and you agree, resignation all over your face.

“You know what, yeah. Okay, we’re doing this. Someone go get Leo.” An involuntary smile once again launches onto your face at the mention of his name. Jason starts to object. 

“Hey, I’m not going to spill something personal about someone when they’re not in the room.” They agree reluctantly, and Jason leaves, returning again with Leo. You look at him again, enraptured by his presence. He can’t say he doesn’t like the attention - a hottie like you looking at him like that? Yes, please - but something about it feels different, and he gets the feeling there’s a lot more going on than they’re aware of. 

You nod your head once, indicating for him to come closer. He gets a little closer. You widen your eyes, nodding two more times, and he hesitantly gets within whispering distance. 

You turn your head to your left, dangerously close to his face. He can feel his pulse already speeding up. Heat radiates between your faces, your breath fanning over his neck as you whisper slowly,

“You really… really like holding hands, and when I pull your hair during sex.” 

He pulls away from you quickly, beet red, bewildered expression obvious to everyone in the room. “H-how-”

“How do you think?” You reply calmly, loving everything about him, “Okay, to be fair…” you nod once more, eyes flaring, and he leans in once again, equally hesitant and curious. Your words tickle his ear, seeming to light up his entire nervous system like a firecracker.

“I really really like when you bite that spot on my neck, just below my ear.” 

He pulls away again, trying not to literally and figuratively combust. He stares in your eyes intensely, searching for anything besides the truth. He finds absolutely nothing. He turns around, unable to look his friends in the eye. 

“They’re legit, guys.” 

“Wait, what did you say to him?” Piper asks, unsure if she wants to know the answer. 

“Yeah,” Annabeth agrees, “what if it’s some kind of mind control-” Your deep, burning desire to finally hold Leo after god knows how long is starting to beat your better judgement, and you really, really want to be untied from this stupid chair. “Annabeth! Your favorite show was Cyber Chase growing up, you used to come up with plans on how to defeat Hacker, your best was cutting off his food supply - good strategy, I’ve used it before, myself. 

Percy, you feel like you can’t sing because you were forced to participate in an elementary school recital and some kid called you tonedeaf behind your back, it kicked you right in the RSD balls. 

Piper, you’re a closet weeb, you watched Ouran High School Host club obsessively and still do sometimes, you fell for Jason because he had, quote, 'Tamaki's looks and Kyoya's brains, the ideal man'. 

Jason, that scar on your lip is from biting a stapler as a child-"

"Okay, everyone knows that-"

"-and," you continue, showing no signs of stopping, "the reason you ate the stapler is because you were pretending to be a trash compactor because you saw one on TV. 

Nico is totally not right outside the door keeping guard right now, but if he were and you asked him if he likes the diary of a wimpy kid movies he'll ask how the hell you know that - should I continue."

Again, the answers are in the silence hovering in the room. 

“I think it’s about time to catch me up on what I missed.” 

A beat passes.

“Right,” Annabeth says, blinking and readjusting her ponytail as she sits down across from you, Percy already taking the bindings off of your wrists, “so, about the quest…”

She starts to fill you in on the details you missed, bringing you up to speed. After a little while you all decide to call it a night. Piper senses your energy ramping up in spite of the exhaustion settling in. You finally bid them all good night, but Piper’s not sold by your forced yawns. After what feels like another lifetime, you finally leave the room you’ve been in for hours with one objective. 

You can’t stay away from him anymore, you have to find Leo. 

After navigating a maze of hallways and doors, you finally push open the right one to see him looking up at you, and find yourself saying for the second time tonight,

“Hey, Sparky…” 

His heart is racing, and he gets that heavy, full feeling in his chest again, not having fully shaken it from the last time you saw each other. Looking into your eyes makes him nostalgic for something he can’t quite remember, and he knows with full certainty that you have more history than he’s aware of. He wants more than anything in this moment to remember. He sets down the wrench in his hand, taking a step toward you.

“Hey…”

[veronicamarsconfessions]

Editor’s Note: TV moves on, but we haven’t. In our feature series It Still Stings, we relive emotional TV moments that we just can’t get over. You know the ones, where months, years, or even decades later, it still provokes a reaction? We’re here for you. We rant because we love. Or, once loved. And obviously, when discussing finales in particular, there will be spoilers:

There was a time when Veronica Mars’ legacy was that of a beloved cult show that was canceled too soon by network executives who didn’t understand it. With the arrival of a crowd-funded feature film in 2014, its legacy evolved as one of the first shows to see the benefits of a revival. Now, it simply brings thoughts of sadness, rage, and betrayal.

When Hulu first announced it was reviving the series for an eight-episode fourth season, the news was met with resounding joy from a vocal and passionate fanbase that had never given up hope it would return after the crowd-funded feature film reunited Kristen Bell’s Veronica, a pint-sized private eye with a sharp mind and even sharper wit, with her one true love, the reformed bad boy Logan Echolls (Jason Dohring). But the fire that had burned for more than a decade and twice-revived the show was suddenly extinguished in a single, heartbreaking, and wholly unnecessary moment when Logan was killed by a bomb left in Veronica’s car shortly after the couple exchanged wedding vows.

I can still remember the shock I felt when I reached the end of the screeners Hulu sent. The whole thing felt kind of surreal, like if I didn’t acknowledge what had happened out loud maybe it didn’t actually happen. But it did happen. And I’m still filled with a fiery rage and a deep sadness when I think about it now, nearly two years removed from the episode in question, because needlessly killing Logan was a betrayal of the worst kind. The character’s untimely demise felt engineered for nothing more than shock value, like it existed only to leave Veronica even more isolated and cynical. But the interviews that series creator Rob Thomas gave in the aftermath, in which he tried to defend the decision, revealed something much worse while only driving the knife he’d stuck in fans’ backs deeper.

“In order for us to keep doing these, I think it needs to become a detective show—a noir, mystery, detective show—and those elements of teenage soap need to be behind us,” Thomas told TV Guide of the decision to kill Logan, noting that he also hoped to take Veronica out of Neptune and on the road in potential future seasons. “I sort of viewed these eight episodes as a bridge to what Veronica Mars might be moving forward.”

Instead of being a bridge to the future, it was a bridge to a grave of Thomas’ own making. Not since How I Met Your Mother ignored literal years of character development to deliver a half-cooked series finale the creators had come up with several years prior has a show felt so out of touch with its characters, the story it was telling, and its fans. Thomas’ decision to kill Logan is the perfect example of a creator being unable to recognize their own biases to the detriment of their creation.

He wrongly believed that Veronica needed to be hardened by years of nonstop torment and trauma in order to prove she was a great detective whose story was worth continuing. In putting her through the emotional wringer (again) after spending the entire season attempting to dig into her flaws and determine the root of her problems, Thomas swiftly undermined his heroine and her trauma with one misguided act of devastating violence. The fact that Thomas then chose to also skip over Veronica’s grieving process entirely reveals how little he ultimately thought of Logan or Veronica’s relationship with him, which had pushed her to be better and work through her longtime trust issues.

It is common knowledge by now that Logan was not intended to be Veronica’s love interest when the show debuted, but the fans took to the character more than they took to Teddy Dunn’s Duncan “He Used to Be My Boyfriend” Kane, so the latter was jettisoned from the show after Season 2. And in the end, Logan turned out to be a much better partner and match for Veronica’s personality. So what’s truly unfortunate about Thomas killing Logan, and killing him so violently, is that his thought process during Season 4 has the potential to color everything that happened in the show up until the moment the bomb went off. There is also the issue that Thomas apparently believed that Veronica achieving some level of romantic happiness was a one-way ticket to the grave, as if shows like Friday Night Lights hadn’t already soundly debunked the myth that happy couples did not make great TV.

Obviously an emotional family drama does not play by the same rules as noir, but Veronica Mars had already proven that you don’t need to play firmly within the sandbox of the genre to excel creatively. So why should the more adult version of the show attempt to put itself back in the box to be confined to something more traditional or stereotypical? Furthermore, love and contentment are not character flaws or weaknesses. They are not an element of “teenage soap,” as Thomas put it. In fact, one could argue that by allowing herself to believe that she and Logan could have a happy future together regardless of everything she’d witnessed in her line of work, Veronica had shown more personal and emotional growth in the show’s fourth season than she had in the entire run of the series.

At the heart of the matter, though, is one simple, glaring truth: Logan’s death was a fundamental misreading of the entire Veronica Mars fandom and what they liked about the show. Storytelling should never be dictated by the fans and their desires—one of the loudest and most common complaints critics had about the movie was that it felt too much like Thomas was just giving the fans what they wanted rather than attempting to tell a good story—but when your fandom has dug their hands into the cold soil of the TV graveyard to raise your show from the dead, you should probably have a grasp on what exactly the fans like about it in the first place. After all, they’re the reason you still exist and will be one of the final arbiters of whether or not you get to continue to exist in the future. And the idea that fans would somehow be interested in watching a version of Veronica Mars in which Veronica was on the road, completely alone, and Logan was blown to bits is just a wild miscalculation.

This isn’t to suggest Veronica Mars could not ever survive without Logan. That would be to undercut the rest of the show and the woman Veronica has become since we first saw her cutting Wallace (Percy Daggs III) off the flagpole in the series’ pilot. But there is a difference in writing Logan out of the show’s ongoing story arc—his secretive Naval career offered the perfect out—and violently killing him in an attempt to shock viewers and show just how resilient your heroine is in the face of trauma. A survivor of rape who had to solve the murder of her best friend (Amanda Seyfried) while still in high school because the sheriff’s department was too inept to do it (or simply did not care to do it), Veronica had already been through more in her young life than anyone should ever have to live through.

Although Logan’s death led to her finally seeing a therapist, it seemed to be a one-time thing, so nothing has really changed. Veronica is still the same person she was before the show returned, except now she’s also a widow and Thomas has alienated an entire fanbase to the point that many fans, though likely not all, have no interest in revisiting her story. And they’re not likely to either, since Hulu chose not to move forward with another season.

So much for that bridge to the future.

[mentallyinlovewithgeorgeweasley]

IN YOUR ARMS AGAIN-GEORGE WEASLEY

Hey it’s my first time writing a one shot so I really hope you like it<3

Info: middle of summer george is at the burrow you at your house your parents want you home this summer and so did Georges parents, the internet at the burrow is suck so george decide to do a little surprise✨

George Weasleyxfem!reader

warning: anger,cursing,pure fluff¿

-imagine they have phones-

it was 2:00am, another day of summer you were talking with George on facetime. It’s has become a tradition after you and George parents wanted you to spend the summer at your own house.

“So what else did you done today” you ask George as you brush your hair and have a small smile on your face.

“not much actually, me and fred prank Percy a lot today this was quite funny” george was driving crazy without you a, two months was too much for him, he comforts himself in that he could still prank precy and have some fun with his family.

“You never going to give him a break don’t you?”

“Never love never”

You shake your head with a smile on your face,”what else?” You ask as you wanting to hear his voice more.

“Tomorrow mom is going to take us to diagon ally and I heard they ope-“ ofc the internet will ruin everything,the data at the burrow is suck it’s happening every time you and George are talking, you two got used to it honestly.

“Oh georgie wait I- can-can’t-he-hear you” you were trying to help George fix his data but the call was ended, you were sad and angry, you miss your lover more than anything, this summer is going to end in two weeks than everything will be alright. That what you told yourself but it’s felt like forever.

“My love I’m so sorry” George just texted you a message, you love him but at this moment you were angry, not on him but at his and yours parents, at his stupid data on the world on everything except George but you took your anger on him.

“I just want to see you again, to hug you again, to kiss you again, I want to fucking hold you again and NO we can do it because of our stupid parents” you sent this message to George.

“Love don’t worry two more weeks and you will have me in your arms back again I promise”

“I can’t wait two more weeks! I’ve been waiting for so long it’s not fair!!” At this point you were having a few tears that fell on your cheeks.

George felt bad and angry at this all situation he knew how you were feeling he was feeling the same,he think for a couple of minutes without returning to y/n text.

“night george” you turn your phone off, get into your bad under your cozy blanket. And cuddle with your teddy bear George won for you at a festival you two went a year ago. this teddy bear was wearing George t-shirt you stole from him, the t-shirt was still having his smell, the smell of cinnamon, vanilla, fireworks, marshmallow and the smell of home.

You eyes begin to feel heavy and slowly closed you hug the bear hard with a few tears in your eyes.

George felt so bad at this all situation, he felt worser than you, he didn’t told you that but as much he looks happy he was sad from the inside,an idea pop into George head and he didn’t think twice to do it.

The clock were now showing 7:16am it was early,but George as a light sleeper woke up and make a little bag with a few clothes in it even tho he already have at y/n.

“good morning mum, I went to surprise y/n I will stay there for a week I already check this with y/n parents don’t worry and we will both come back in time to the quidditch World Cup, love you george”

George wrote this note to his mom as fast as he could, left it on the table in the kitchen, took out his wand whisper the spell and before he could blink he was at y/n house. George loved y/n house he was there before but every time he saw pictures of baby y/n or her siblings together his heart just melt. And as he was putting his bag on the counter he notice a note for him.

“Dear George I’m so sorry I’m not there to welcome you as always , I just had to run to work y/n is still asleep she doesn’t know anything, I will be back by 4:30pm” George looked at the clock that show 8:03am, George’s eyes went back to reading the letter “both of y/n siblings is at a friends house so don’t worry about them you two just have a nice day :)”

George put the letter back on the counter and walked to y/n room, he was exiting really he missed her so much his heart is about to explode.

He open her door slowly without waking her up.he saw her lying with one arm over the teddy bear, a big smile shows on George’s face, he took off his shoes to not make any noises and slowly replaced the teddy bear, as he was now lying under her arm. He got a little closer to her face and started kissing all over her face.

Y/n slowly open her eyes at the feeling something weird on her face, she thought she was dreaming, until she open her eyes, george stop kissing your face and wanted to see your reaction. You saw a ginger figure.this is the first thing you saw, you got scared not realizing what of who is it.

As your vision get more clear you saw George, “Georgie?”

“Yes my love?” George looked at you with the biggest smile on his face, you could’ve swear his eyes were sparkling.

“Am I dreaming?” y/n put her hand on his cheeks, George let out a chuckle and said “no darling it’s not a dream I’m really here” and he prove it to her with a kiss on the lips.

Y/n realizing what going on and she warp her hands behind George’s neck, now she is on top of him. She start kissing his face, every freckle she saw she kiss. “Take it easy little one” George was now blushing. He loved her so much, he didn’t understand how he got so lucky.

“How are you even here?!” Y/n ask him still lying on top of him looking at his face. “Well I talk with your parents, sneak out of my house and here I am” George gave her a wink as he finish his sentence. “Wait what-what about molly isn’t she angry?” You ask as you heard George was sneaking out of the house without molly knowing.”well I left her a note and she can always see on the clock that I’m here,but I’m not here to talk about my mom” George gives you a pick on your lips as you smiles into the kiss not wanting to break it.

“ I have a better surprise for you” “better than you here?” Y/n asked as not expecting to something better than George is here in her arms.

“Yes much better”

“Well tell me what is it!!” Y/n was exacting this day couldn’t get any better she thought.

“I’m going to stay for a week and then YOU coming to the burrow with ME and we going to watch the quidditch World Cup!!!!”

y/n loved quidditch more watching than playing and she was George biggest fan, she sat up on his laps to realizing what she just heard. “ wait! What?! Are you joking??” George sat up lying on the headboard as he warps his armsbehind her back. “ I know I’m the comedian between us love” y/n rolled her eyes back ���but now I’m not joking, are you happy?”

Nothing was more important to George than to make you and to keep you happy.

“Am I happy?!I’m the most happy person in the world!! I love you so much!” Y/n kiss his lips and he kiss back both of you afraid if one of you let go the other will be gone.

“thank you georgie I love you” you mumbled into the kiss “love you more darling”

You spent the entire day just lying in each other arms talking about yours summer and how much you guys miss each other.

[annabethy]

under the mistletoe, watching the fire glow day 24: christmas carols

Character A doesn’t feel the Christmas spirit but Character B, who lives above them, keeps playing Christmas carols really loud,, percabeth

Annabeth has never been one to thoroughly enjoy the holidays. She doesn’t necessarily have anything against them, but they’re just not for her. They never have been, for as long as she can remember.

She didn’t get any presents when she was little. Her family did the bare minimum for Christmas. There might have been a tree with the blandest decorations, but that was it. So she grew up with a rather distasteful opinion towards Christmas too. To be fair, it’s more to do with her family than the actual holiday itself, but there’s an association, and now she can’t stand either.

That’s why she decided to move away from California as fast as possible. She graduated high school and booked it, not looking back since. And it was difficult surviving in New York City without any financial support, especially as a college student, but she managed. She worked hard and found a decent apartment.

Or she had thought she found a decent apartment, but there’s ear-shattering Christmas carols playing above her head that cause her to rethink that particular detail.

“You’re kidding me,” she mutters as another starts to play. It’s not even muffled – that’s how loud the music is, and she genuinely doesn’t understand how another person can be so oblivious.

She tries to brush it off for the better part of an hour, assuming that someone else would ask them to shut up, but nothing happens. If anything, it gets worse because the Christmas carols get louder and more unbearable.

An hour finally passes and her willpower fades.

Annabeth tugs on a jacket and slides her feet into the first shoes she sees. She’s vaguely aware of moving around with much more aggression than the situation calls for, but now the person above her seems to have started singing along, and she thinks that violence is the only language this person understands.

It only takes a few seconds of knocking at their door before it swings open. The person she now knows is a guy has a smile on his face that quickly falls when he takes in her own face.

“Hey,” he starts, eyes roaming her face. “Are you okay?”

“Actually, I’m not,” she says. “I think my brain may be hemorrhaging.”

She can see his face morph into confusion. His green eyes actually look a bit concerned for her as he scratches his neck. “What do you mean?”

“Your music is so loud it’s making my brain bleed,” she snaps. “Can you just, you know, have some consideration for those around you and turn it down?”

“My music is too loud?”

“It’s giving me a headache, so I don’t know how you haven’t gone deaf yet.”

“But… they’re Christmas carols.”

“Yeah, I was able to hear that. Because they were loud.” “You don’t like Christmas carols?” He asks it with such passion that she thinks he’ll be seriously offended if she says no.

“I think Christmas carols are a disgrace to humanity.”

He actually gasps, a hand over his heart, but there’s a subtle grin on his face that lets her know he’s only messing with her. “I am so sorry for you.”

Annabeth’s jaw drops slightly. “Sorry for me? I’m sorry that you have horrible music taste.”

He holds his hands up in mock surrender. “You don’t even know me, so how could you possibly know I have bad music taste?”

“I’ve been listening to you blast music for an hour, so trust me when I saw I know.”

He laughs. “Come on, you have to at least give me a chance to prove you wrong.”

“Prove me wrong?”

“To show you I have amazing music taste, and that Christmas carols are the best things to exist.”

She watches as his eyes trace over her, and she can practically sense the approval in his eyes. It makes her heat up just a little bit, and she crosses her arms over herself. “How do you plan on proving that to me?”

“You could come in and I will give you a three hour long monologue about the history of carols and their importance to the Christmas culture.”

She blinks.

“Or you could come in and help me make a gingerbread house while singing Christmas carols with me,” he suggests.

“You’re inviting a stranger into your apartment? What if I were a serial killer?”

“Jokes on you because I don’t have any cereal in my apartment.”

It takes her a moment to get the joke before she snorts at its pure lameness.

“At least let me make up for destroying your brain,” he says, opening the door wider.

“I still don’t know your name.”

“I’m Percy,” he says as though it makes up for everything else.

He’s funny, she decides. “Annabeth.”

He lifts the side of his lips in a lopsided smile. He doesn’t say anything else, simply stepping aside to let her in. She can’t believe she’s actually considering walking into a stranger’s apartment, but then she remembers that he was blasting Christmas carols, so how dangerous could he really be?

She walks inside and the music seems to increase tenfold. He goes to lower the volume from his phone, and it offers immediate relief as the pounding in her eardrums stop.

“Is that better?” he asks.

“The volume is better,” she says, “but the music is still abhorrent.”

“You take that back.”

Annabeth laughs softly as she joins him at the counter. There’s a gingerbread house out and in complete shambles. There is also piped frosting, and it gives her the impression that this is not his first attempt at this.

She looks up at him and finds his eyes already on her. It’s not in a rude way — he seems to be more intrigued by her than anything, and she doesn’t blame him. They’ve lived right next to each other, yet they’ve never met before. She’s just as fascinated by him and his distasteful melodies.

“You wouldn’t happen to be good at gingerbread houses, would you?” he asks, hopeful.

“Actually, I happen to be a competitive gingerbread house maker.”

“Really?”

“I’m an architect,” she tells him, twisting the plate with the house on them. “And I make a mean gingerbread house.”

“Please help me.”

“Why do you even need to make this?”

“I was bored because all my friends went home for Christmas, so I figured why not make a gingerbread house except I can’t get the sides of the house to stick for shit.”

“Enough said.” With that, Annabeth ties her hair up in an impromptu bun, grabbing the frosting from the counter. She truly did not come up to his apartment with any intention other than to make him feel pain for the suffering he’s caused, but then he presented her with this challenge, and she just couldn’t resist.

She certainly didn’t intent on liking it in his apartment either. He’s super kind she learns quickly. He offers her a helping hand and complements her every move, and he’s generally a very inclusive person. He asks her questions about herself and seems to be genuinely interested in her answers. It’s subtle, but in the back of her mind she thinks that she really likes him.

It’s mortifying that it happens in the span of one night, but even the three hours spent with them attempting to piece together a masterpiece (and baking more pieces at Annabeth’s request so that they can recreate a mansion) she finds herself laughing more than she has in months.

“I can’t believe you’re actually this good at making gingerbread houses,” he comments, leaning in close as she pipes an individual icicle onto the roof of it.

“I’m not sure what you expected from an architect.”

“Yeah, but… the person who just happens to come so they can murder me is exactly who I needed. You know what they call that?”

“Coincidence?”

“A Christmas miracle!”

She rolls her eyes, setting the icing down. “I’m only here for the decorating.”

“And because I need to show you that Christmas music is a blessing,” he reminds her. “It’s not possible.”

“It is, actually, because while you’ve been decorating, you’ve also been doing this little dance.

She freezes, just now realizing what she was doing. “I have not.”

“You have,” he says. “It’s cute.”

“I would simply never dance to Christmas music because I hate Christmas.”

“What reason could you possibly have for hating Christmas?”

“I never got to put the star on top of the tree.”

“Is that it?” Percy rolls his eyes. “You can put the star on top of my tree.”

Annabeth’s heart immediately jumps up, and she can’t stop the smile that spreads across her face. It’s so silly, putting a star on top of the tree, but it’s made her so excited for some reason.

“Do you want to?”

“It’s okay,” she says, keeping her voice steady. He smiles softly, grabbing her hand and dragging her away from the kitchen counter. His tree is small in the corner of the living room, and it’s mostly decorated. There is a box of ornaments sitting on a table besides him that lets her know he just hasn’t gotten the chance to finish decorating, and the star is beside it. He picks it up and hands it to her, an amused look on his face.

“Here,” he says.

She crosses her arms. “I’m not doing it if you’re going to laugh at me.”

“I’m not laughing at you!” he assures.

“You’re laughing right now.”

“Because it’s adorable. Come on. Please?”

She gives him a last look before setting the star on top of the tree. It’s a bit taller than her so she has to stand on her toes and lean over it, and he steadies her with a hand on her waist. She takes a step back to look at it. It’s a bit crooked, but as she goes to fix it, he stops her.

“Leave it. It’s perfect.”

“It’s crooked.”

“That’s the point of Christmas! It doesn’t need to be perfect. It’s supposed to be warm and fun and leave you with that fuzzy feeling.”

Annabeth definitely feels that fuzzy feeling, but it’s not from the tree. It’s from the look he’s giving her that makes her face blush.

“You’re not going anywhere for Christmas, are you?”

She glances at him. “No. Why?”

“I just assumed because you said your family wasn’t the best. But I don’t think you should be alone for Christmas.”

“You’re alone for Christmas,” she points out.

“And I was trying to blast music to forget that little fact. It wasn’t working very well, but now you’re here!” She smirks.

“I think you should come over tomorrow so that neither of us have to be alone on Christmas.”

“I don’t want to intrude, Percy.”

“You’ve been here for hours now, and I’ve loved every second of it.” He elbows her lightly. “Come on. We can even make another gingerbread house.”

“I do love making gingerbread houses,” she says with a smile morphing into her face.

“Also I kind of like you.”

“Even if I came here with the intention of yelling at you?”

“To be fair, you did yell at me. I just thought you were cute and invited you in anyways, and you came in so you must also think I’m cute.”

“I think there might be a flaw in your logic there.”

“But am I wrong?”

She doesn’t answer because he’s not wrong. He’s sweeter than frosting, and he’s looking at her with such adoration that she really doesn’t want to leave and be alone on Christmas. Now she doesn’t have to.

“I’ll stay,” she playfully concedes, “if you really want me to.”

“I do.”

“But only on two conditions,” she says.

“And what are those conditions?”

“One, you have to put on some good Christmas music.” “What do you mean good Christmas music!”

“And two,” she starts, laughing at his bewildered expression, “Kiss me.”

That gets him to laugh, throwing his head back. “A kiss?”

“A kiss,” she confirms. “After all, you think I’m ‘cute.’”

His fingers curl around her waist. “You’re very cute. My cute neighbor.”

“And if you kiss me, then… maybe it can be more than just a cute neighbor.”

She knows she’s pushing her luck, but she’s always been good at reading people, and she can read him. She knows he feels the same thing she is. His eyes burn bright.

“If you say so,” he whispers, pulling her in and kissing her hard. It takes her breath away, and she wonders how she’s missed someone right in front of her.

Hours earlier, she’d been upset that he was playing music so loud, but now…

She’d never tell him, but she thinks she might like Christmas carols.

[docholligay]

Please rant/rave (well, we already know which one it will be here) about Harry Potter!

GEE I HOPE THIS WAS WORTH WAITING FOR

OH MY GOD. The level of hatred I have for Harry Fucking Goddamn Potter, the culture around Harry Fucking Potter, extending its poisonous tentacles even to the concept of young adult fiction, fantasy, and the United Kingdom as a country and people. 

When you being on this, you may think, “Oh, Doc will explain that Harry Potter sucks because JKR hates trans women” and I will say, oh no, dear reader, that is a fantastic reason to hate the author, and I really suggest we all continue to hate her, and perhaps not purchase the QUEEN’S TONNES of officially licensed merchandise and movies and theme parks that give her stupid little fucking hands all that cash, but no, that is not why I hate the work. There are a number of great works done by terrible people, and the further out the lens of history gets the truer this is. 

I hate Harry Potter because it fucking sucks, and mentally stifled an entire fucking generation. 

“Well, Doc, Harry Potter was really there for me when--” Oh my god I could not fucking care LESS about your personal emotion connection to “orphan wizard boy turns out to be a rich aristocrat yet somehow less woke than Cinderella though” I have personally emotional connections to hot fucking garbage pails of media properties, and if someone came barreling through talking about the myriad ways in which they were horrible, I would be like, “Oh, you aren’t fucking wrong, pal” 

Harry Potter gained wild ass popularity in part due to its magnificent sorting system of Smart, Brave, Evil, and Other, because there’s nothing liberals like more than being able to put everyone’s personality into an easily labeled box, which is why astrology is so popular, or for the intellectuals, Myers-Briggs, which is just as fake but with the veneer of science. This allowed people to give into the tribalism they so desperately liked to pretend they did not possess, and also allow them to write thinkpieces about “The misunderstood Hufflepuff” or “Slytherins aren’t all bad!” or really anything that allows them to write a very real piece about their very imagined oppression for being a part of a totally fake house in a children’s book. Excellent use of your sociology degree, Kai, I thought the addition of phrases like, ‘Content of socialization” and “axes of oppression” really spoke to the struggles you face when wearing a green and silver scarf. 

The other reason it became popular is that it’s essentially wallpaper paste formed into characters. I have read all of the books, and I could not tell you even remotely what Harry’s defining personality traits are other than “protagonist”. In American, at least, a large part of it was the fascination with all things British, with the idea of boarding school and prefects and uniforms that aren’t inexplicably chinos and polo shirts for nine year olds. It allowed children to project onto something so bland that it could be anything. And for children, THAT’S FINE. There is a great deal of bland media made for children, but what I’m speaking to is the fandom, which is largely well over the age of 18. 

Because if we look at the books, are they...actually good? Was it good, or did I experience it as a child? I mean, honestly, on a literary level, are they, or was it just like we all watched Friends, we did it because everyone else was doing it, because I have a distinct memory of a series that involves such greats as “magical geegaws with poorly defined rules that are quickly forgotten despite being able to solve later problems quickly” or “Everyone loves Harry or is a bad guy, or secretly loved Harry all along” 

Oh, speaking of, man, if this was an actual well-written book, wouldn’t it have been wild to have Snape’s whole thing be to teach us that sometimes people do good things for the wrong reasons? Instead of naming your fucking child after the guy who ‘protected you’ because he still wanted to bone your mom? “After all this time” “Always.” 

While all this could have been explained, we have Quidditch added into the mix instead because 20 pages of the goddamn Puppy Bowl is exactly what I was looking for while I was waiting for JK to move the goddamn ball on literally any of these actual magical concepts. 

Harry Potter is a fucking trust fund baby, star quarterback, who grows up to be a cop and marries his high school sweetheart. (Speaking of, why were we shocked that JKR turned out to be a piece of shit when this was and always has been the conclusion of Harry Potter? Why are liberals so fucking into this series that upholds structures like it ain’t no one’s business? It’s a series that opines that those beneath us “Muggles” should be kept in the dark from us) Literally, he finds out he is a wizard and has a dragon-guarded fucking VAULT OF CASH. At 11. It’s such a series for little tyrants, you are special from birth and need do nothing to prove it, here is a letter certifying as such. Oh, not only are you rich and the greatest seeker and have excellent quips, but also your parents were not only rebels, but the best of rebels, and so deeply involved that your parents were killed by the big bad personally, again, because you are so special. His mother’s love literally saves his ass over and over again, because he was SO SPECIAL. He fought Voldemort FROM THE BEGINNING, and WON.  It’s literally the most privilege baby fantasy in the world. 

“But Doooooooooooc, it’s for chiiiiiiiiiiiiiiildren” 

A) Yeah, and you’re 32, you’re making my fucking point about Harry Potter setting an entire generation up for intellectual failure to launch. 

B) Okay, and? I can think of a bunch of kids’ books off the top of my head that in no way require specialness to be given by birth so as to roll out the red carpet for master protagonist. The Hunger Games. Watership Down. A Series of Unfortunate Events. The Chronicles of FUCKING NARNIA, about which I have only a small handful of particularly kind things to say. I’ve never read Percy Jackson, but it’s my understanding that despite his being a literal demigod, the attitudes of the supporting cast are allowed to fall between the extremes of “Appreciates Percy” and “naughty or will learn” Harry does nothing to improve himself even after knowing that he is HUNTED BY THE BIG BAD! “I won’t do this because I don’t like Snape”. So There” which, again, if this series were written with the slightest bit of care or know-how, could be a humbling fucking plot point! BUT NO THAT WOULD BE NAUGHTY. 

But the real reason I hate Harry Potter so much has everything to do with the fandom surrounding it, and how it intellectually stunted a generation of adults. The promise of Harry Potter was that it was supposed to make a new generation of readers, and so the popularity of them was pushed, and so there was discussion of teaching them in schools, but I tell you fucking what, I know a whole lot more folks who grew up reading Harry Potter that never advanced beyond reading YA, or even just rereading the entire series every year and that’s pretty much them done and dusted. 

In the attempt to recapture whatever it was about Harry Potter that attracted children (A lot of it was your peers doing it. I read them all as they came out, and it was literally the equivalent of watching the game so you could talk at the water cooler. That was never going to be recaptured) people, who by this time were likely in their teens, kept getting recommended stuff at the same and same level. No one ever felt pushed to read things that are challenging, to read things that have some of the concepts or themes of Harry Potter but maybe complicate. I know FAR more adults who read adult books that aren’t into Harry Potter, even if they were as children, than the reverse. 

But Doc, why is reading only books meant for 14 year olds a problem??? I mean I suppose I can’t convince you that comfort is not the job of literature or of life, it is the job of an easy chair, because Americans especially are decadent as fuck about being comfy cozy all the time and if anything causes them distress or pain it should be immediately avoided. But Maybe I can convince you that you’re fucking up these books for actual ass children who deserve to have their own writing section without adults bringing their fucking asses into it. They deserve their own spaces. There’s a number of YA editors who have talked about the difficult space YA now occupies because since Potter’s blowup, it’s no longer a niche category, but basically “adult easy reads” and so they have been buying books that are more about the tastes of adult buyers than of literal 14 year olds. 

Is that not...sad? To anyone else? Honestly, and this is not part of the essay because it’s a broader reaching problem, but CHILDREN’S MEDIA IS NOT FOR US. CHILDREN’S MEDIA IS NOT FOR US. CHILDREN’S MEDIA IS FOR FUCKING CHILDREN. The fucking 40-23 set really needs to get their shit together and grow up a little bit and engage in some fucking adult media, and maybe, if we support what we’re actually looking for FOR ADULTS, it will come to us. No one is saying you can’t read Harry Potter or watch some Cartoon Network show, but like, search your heart and come the fuck on. Engage in something more complex. If not for yourselves, for the kids getting shoved into simplified adult stories. It should not be about us. 

ANYWAY, my larger point is that it was Harry Potter, a badly written series about a magical boy who was chosen and magic and also rich and also a favorite of the headmaster and also more clever than most adults and also spoke the same magical snake language as the big bad and was also star quarterback, but at least there was a system in which you could buy a scarf in block colors and feel like you belonged to a team. 

(But not a sports team! lol handegg! I’m cool I don’t get into sports! Except Quidditch.) 

[daughterofzagreus]

Assigning Zodiac Signs to Greek Gods

Zeus - Sagittarius 

*sigh*, my sign. During Sag season too, LMAO.

Sag is ruled by Jupiter, which is Zeus's Roman counterpart. And it's fitting. It's the planet of expansion and good luck which relates to Zeus. He was the only one of his siblings who wasn't swallowed by his father, which makes him pretty lucky to me. Zeus is a cheating fuckboy, with a love for chasing tail that is the root cause for about 90% of all the issues and conflicts in ancient Greek mythology...that's a pretty typical Sag male move. It's no secret that Sags can be hoes (I say this with love🤗). According to the myths, Zeus was actually a pretty fun, jovial guy who loved a good party, singing, dancing and some drink (the word "jovial" comes from his Roman name Jove/Jupiter). He's impulsive and has a bad temper when angered, though. All fairly Sag tendencies.

Poseidon - Pisces

Pisces is ruled by Neptune, the Roman counterpart to Poseidon. It makes sense that the god of the Sea would be a water sign. Uncle Sy was an emotional MESS in Greek mythology, he's been described as emotionally unstable, temperamental and moody. I'm sorry Pisces but (as someone with a Pisces mother) I can definitely see it. He was quite a hoe too, so I don't know if it's just a mutable sign thing (In which case, welcome to the Hoe club, Pisces👏🏾). His moods and emotions change like the tides (like Pisces), so he's either in a very good mood or a very bad one. Apparently he was quite the sweetheart when in a good mood, as well. Although, man gets a lot of good PR from the Percy Jackson series😒.

Hades - Scorpio

Obvious Scorpio is obvious💀. Scorpio is ruled by Pluto, which is the planet of death and rebirth. Makes sense, as Hades rules over the underworld. Pluto is also Hades's Roman counterpart. Hades isn't technically an Olympian because he doesn't stay in Olympus, his kingdom is in the underworld. I think that's significant because Scorpios like to keep to themselves. The stereotype of Scorpio is that they're morbid, secretive and mysterious. Into the macabre. Kind of like an intellectual brooding, which all fits for Hades. He's not an unfair guy, though. Likely, more on the misunderstood side. I think the fact that only a few people (like his wife Persephone) understand him shows that he doesn't open up or get vulnerable easily or with just anyone. A very Scorpio trait.

Hestia - Cancer

We don't know much about Hestia's personality. She's demure, simple and rules over the hearth and home. Cancers tend to be family oriented. If not, they do have a significant relationship with their home (be that their actual house, or their hometown. Wherever "home" and the family is). The hearth is the centre of the household. It keeps the home warm and provides a place for the whole family to gather around to commune or just feel safe. So, I think that's fitting.

Hera - Virgo

Oh gosh, I can't help comparing her and Zeus's relationship to Jay-Z and Beyonce 😔. Bless her heart, that Sag man has her looking a fool. A complete fool 🤡. Anywho, Hera is beautiful and a perfectionist. Very regal, and strives to maintain perfection. Besides being the queen, Hera is also the goddess of motherhood, monogamy, family marriage, home and protector of all married, so I imagine that she's quite conservative and that (despite the fact that her family is a hot, hot mess) she likes to present the image of the perfect family, kind of like a first lady. She just brings to mind the type of wealthy lady-of-the-manor Virgo woman who runs a tight ship (i.e.: the house/the estate).

Demeter - Cancer 

I was debating on whether or not to make sis a Pisces. But, Cancer is linked to the mother and maternal instincts, which I think is fitting. Cancer is a very maternal sign (at least, there's a lot of significance with Cancer and its relationship to motherhood). The most famous myth involving Demeter is about her daughter Persephone being kidnapped by Hades, and how that affected her emotionally. Demeter is described as being very maternal, protective and kind and embodying a very specific type of love, the "mother's love". One the flip side though, she's also quite OVER-protective. She really does embody some of the more negative traits of Cancer as well such as smothering and being a bit over-bearing with her love. She also strikes me as the type to be emotionally manipulative and play the melodramatic "after all I've done for you, how could you be so cruel to your own mother😭" and "so what are you going to say at my funeral now that you've killed me😔" victim card that overbearing mothers like to use so much. But she doesn't play when it comes to her babies and loved ones.

Ares - Aries

Obvious Aries is obvious😠. Do I even need to say anything? Aries is ruled by Mars, which is Ares's Roman counter part. The planet Mars symbolizes raw masculine energy (you get words like "martial arts" from that), and so does Ares. Both Aries the sign and Ares the god are loud, quite aggressive, and they like conflict (they find it quite funny, and they can move on from it pretty quick, it doesn't really distress them). There's also the passion and explosive temper. Ares is also brave, strong and straight forward. He's also incredibly protective of those he loves. According to Greek mythology, the first murder was committed by Ares when he killed a man who raped (or tried to rape) his daughter, so don't fuck with an Aries's loved ones.

Athena - Capricorn

Capricorn is ruled by Saturn. In astrology, the moon (which rules Cancer - Capricorn's opposite compliment) is The Mother. It's soft, maternal and nurturing. Saturn is The Father. It's the planet of obstacles and boundaries and is a very harsh, stern planet. Success will come, but only after learning some very hard lessons. If the moon is like a emotional parent that coddles and nurtures their child (Cancer), then Saturn is that strict, tough parent that teaches their child (Capricorn) from day dot that the world is going to be cruel and unfair, and so they want to break you to make you stronger and prepare you for the world. That's what I get from Athena. Athena was born fully grown and fully clothed (in battle gear, at that). She literally came into the world with her guard up. She's the goddess of wisdom and battle strategy (among other things), so she's very pragmatic and somewhat cold (not cruel, but just realistic). She's Zeus's favourite child, which links to her ruling planet being The Father. She's kind of like the embodiment of the woman who works in a male dominated field (which, she does) so she has to work harder, adopt more masculine traits and develop a harder exterior in order to survive and thrive. She's not the most emotional or vulnerable person either, and it's noteworthy that she never had a childhood (again, she was born fully grown), so she's never had any of the innocence and naivete.

Artemis - Cancer

With the twins (Artemis and Apollo), Apollo is the sun while Artemis is the moon. Since Cancer is ruled by the moon, it makes sense that Artemis would be a Cancerian. This is the third time I'm bringing up Cancer being maternal, but here we are. Artemis has a close relationship with her mother (she killed this one woman's 7 daughters, because said woman was talking smack about her mother), but Artemis also acts as a foster mother for a lot of different people. She's nurturing, compassionate and protective. Artemis is the protector of young women, and women in childbirth (right after she was born, she helped her mother deliver her twin brother, Apollo). She has a group of huntresses (which any girl is allowed to join, so long as they forgo marriage) and she basically becomes like an adoptive mother towards them (she also, in general, likes to take in strays. She’s goddess of moon and hunting so she spends more time in the wild and at night, whereas Apollo spends more time in civilization in the daytime).

Apollo - Leo

Obvious leo is obvious 🦁. Leo's ruling planet is the sun, and is symbolized by a lion with a ~fabulous~ golden main. Apollo is the sun god (among other things). He drives the sun chariot every day and is always described as having long blond (or ✨golden✨) locks, a golden tan, and is just ridiculously bright and golden overall. Hence his other name being "Phoebos Apollo" (Phoebus meaning “bright”). Leo rules the 5th house, which is basically the house of having fun and being yourself, which matches Apollo. He's one of the more active and fun personalities. He's an over achiever (God of music, poetry, prophecy, archery, young men) and is considered to be the most beautiful male god on Olympus. Like most Leos, humility is not his greatest strength, to say the least. He's dramatic, loves attention and likes to stand out and be the sun (around which everything revolves), like a leo, too.

Hephaestus - Taurus

I really don't know why, and I'm exhausted from writing so much for everyone else. I really don't know which sign to put him in, but Taurus seems to match him. Mainly because he's patient and calm. He's a kind(er) soul who just minds his business and does his work. I know Taurus gets a bad rap for being "lazy", but Taurus actually are quite hard workers. They just like to work on their own terms, and usually the more "slow and steady" type (but still hard work with results). Tauruses also love beautiful things, and Hephaestus is an amazing craftsman who's created the most beautiful jewelry that's ever been made. Taurus is also a very possessive sign that is easily prone to jealousy when it comes to their romantic partner. This is exactly how Hephaestus is when it comes to his wife, Aphrodite (who frequently cheats, since she never wanted to marry him in the first place). The fact that Haphaestus STILL loves her and tries his best to prove himself to her an impress her by making all that jewelery for her (even though it's clear that she just doesn't love him, and the relationship won't ever be what he wants) is something a Taurus would do, as they are solid, committed people. Once they've decided they want to make a relationship work, they're fully committed to it. He does have a temper, but it's generally a long fuse, and he seems to function by the law of "don't start none, won't be none". Very Taurus. They mind their business and they don't start mess...but they will end it. The Taurus fuse is very long, but once it goes off...

Aphrodite - Libra

Obvious Libra is obvious😘. Libra is ruled by Venus, the Roman counterpart of Aphrodite. As the goddess of love and beauty, I don't think it's all that surprising to have Aphrodite be a Libras. Libras could flirt for their nation. They're also a bit vain, like Aphrodite, and they can be people pleasers. But, it's well intentioned. Libras are the scale because they like balance and harmony, and they generally don't care for discord or unpleasantries. Aphrodite is the mother of the goddess Harmonia (goddess of harmony) as well. The vanity also comes from their artistic love of beauty, as libra a generally a very creative sign. If the libra themselves isn't creative, they at least appreciate creativity and art.

Hermes - Gemini

Obvious Gemini is obvious. Gemini is ruled by Mercury, which is the Roman counterpart to Hermes. Gemini are multifaceted which makes sense for Hermes as he does a lot of different things. Kind of like a jack of all trades but master of none kind of deal. Hermes is one of the smartest gods in a witty, inventive and humorous way. He was Zeus's second favourite child and his favourite son, and has a more trickster vibe to him. A bit of a scam artist. Hermes is also the god of travelers and thieves. Man just has a way of charming people into liking him, which is a very Gemini trait. As the messenger for the gods, Hermes is also the god of communication (probably a bit of a gossip)...and lord knows Gemini's can talk your ear off. Hermes has a pair of sandles with wings to help with his messenger duties, so he's very fast and is all over the place, since he was so much to do and is always on the go (Gemini rules the 3rd house which is the house of, among other things, short distance travel).

Dionysus - Aquarius

The laid back stoner of the group. And a cult leader. He not only invented wine, but was also the god of substance use, ecstasy and madness. I find it hard to describe Dionysus just like I find it hard to describe Aquarius. I know that traits, but they're just too complex to be able to describe in a single sentence.​ Like Aquarius, Dionysus and his cult originally was a place where marginalized people could feel free. Sticking it to the man and whatnot, which goes with the activism and revolution that comes with Aquarius, along with the idea of paradise.

[sanstropfremir]

ok this took way longer than i expected because i got sidetracked looking at paintings and reading poetry and just admiring the mv, but it's finally finished!! let's talk about

higher

✨

i'm going to draw your attention to a few things.

firstly, these verses from rime of the ancient mariner by samuel taylor coleridge, published 1834:

The harbour-bay was clear as glass,

So smoothly it was strewn!

And on the bay the moonlight lay,

And the shadow of the Moon.

The rock shone bright, the kirk no less,

That stands above the rock:

The moonlight steeped in silentness

The steady weathercock.

And the bay was white with silent light,

Till rising from the same,

Full many shapes, that shadows were,

In crimson colours came.

A little distance from the prow

Those crimson shadows were:

I turned my eyes upon the deck—

Oh, Christ! what saw I there!

Each corse lay flat, lifeless and flat,

And, by the holy rood!

A man all light, a seraph-man,

On every corse there stood.

This seraph-band, each waved his hand:

It was a heavenly sight!

They stood as signals to the land,

Each one a lovely light;

This seraph-band, each waved his hand,

No voice did they impart—

No voice; but oh! the silence sank

Like music on my heart.

secondly, this ivan aivazovsky painting, chaos (the creation), c. 1841:

and thirdly, the memorial of percy shelley, who drowned in a boating accident at age 29, in 1822:

there's a common conflation between the romantic and the pastoral in the general cultural consensus because the pastoral a) has been around as an art term longer than romantic, and b) romanticism does use some similar imagery. but there is a key difference: the pastoral is specfically an idealization of 'the simple shepherding life,' often for high class and urban audiences who have no conception of the details of this life includes. one of the more famous examples is christopher marlowe's a passionate shepherd to his love, published in 1599:

Come live with me and be my love,

And we will all the pleasures prove,

That Valleys, groves, hills, and fields,

Woods, or steepy mountain yields.

And we will sit upon the Rocks,

Seeing the Shepherds feed their flocks,

By shallow Rivers to whose falls

Melodious birds sing Madrigals.

And I will make thee beds of Roses

And a thousand fragrant posies,

A cap of flowers, and a kirtle

Embroidered all with leaves of Myrtle;

A gown made of the finest wool

Which from our pretty Lambs we pull;

Fair lined slippers for the cold,

With buckles of the purest gold;

A belt of straw and Ivy buds,

With Coral clasps and Amber studs:

And if these pleasures may thee move,

Come live with me, and be my love.

The Shepherds’ Swains shall dance and sing

For thy delight each May-morning:

If these delights thy mind may move,

Then live with me, and be my love.

whereas romanticism is a more pointedly specific movement that was active from around 1800 to 1850, primarily focused on intense emotion and catharsis as the primary experiential output of an artwork. which most prominently manifested in a deep fascination and glorification of the natural environment and historical nostalgia. the movement sprung from the german sturm und drang (literally storm and drive/stress) period of the late 1760s to early 1780s, which was a direct reaction to rationalism and enlightenment. romanticism had similar impulses; it was also a revival of medievalism and a reaction against the looming urban sprawl and mechanization of the industrial revolution. a typical romantic poem from one of the originators of the english movment william wordsworth, composed upon westminster bridge, september 3, 1802, originally published 1807:

Earth has not any thing to show more fair:

Dull would he be of soul who could pass by

A sight so touching in its majesty:

This City now doth, like a garment, wear

The beauty of the morning; silent, bare,

Ships, towers, domes, theatres, and temples lie

Open unto the fields, and to the sky;

All bright and glittering in the smokeless air.

Never did sun more beautifully steep

In his first splendour, valley, rock, or hill;

Ne'er saw I, never felt, a calm so deep!

The river glideth at his own sweet will:

Dear God! the very houses seem asleep;

And all that mighty heart is lying still!

this romantic fascination with nature was underpinned by the philosophy of the sublime, generally agreed to be first treatised by edmund burke in 1756, the theory was also written about by kant and hegel. in the simplest of terms, the sublime is a quality of greatness beyond calculation, imitation, and human comprehension. the sublime is twofold; the greatness of the ocean is beautiful, but its power is also terrifying, and the experience of the sublime is to feel those two at once. to be in awe and also to be horrified of its ability to sink ships and drown a life in a tempermental change of tide.

let's take a quick detour to talk about

clothing

in the present day we have become much more lax thanks to the aesthetic movement in the late nineteenth century, but back in the early victorian period there are still highly structured rules about when and what clothing one can wear in public. and the clothing itself is also highly structured. anyone with a passing understanding of the victorian era knows about the whole flashing of the ankle thing and corsets galore, and it is true that the general day to day garments cover a lot of area. for men in particular, this manifests in no less than three layers in public at all times: shirt, waistcoat, and suit jacket, with a coat or mantle overtop in colder temperatures. this also includes a variation of a neck tie (depending on what year), hat, gloves, and any other decided upon accessories (this can also include a corset and other padded structural underpinnings). an important tangent to mention here is that this is the uniform of the upper classes, although the rules do apply to the lower classes if they wanted to appear 'sophisticated.' the working man's uniform was also shirt, waistcoat, trousers, but the difference here is in the textiles themselves; the colours tended to be much more drab, with less complicated patterns. obviously due to the price fabric itself, but also due to the labour of laundry. an indicator of class here is the white shirt itself and its pristine implications. (there is a longer conversation here about the invention of neckties and detachable collars and cuffs, but that's for another day). the silhouettes are very important to note here in the higher mv, as they are directly referential to the 'romantic poet' archetype of loose shirt and tight pants that we see in popular culture. but as i've just said, the reality is that men of the era were not dressed like this out in public. this look is essentially underwear; the implications are salacious. so where did this come from? well, we can blame it mostly on lord byron, who by all accounts was the first western 'rockstar.' notoriously called 'mad, bad and dangerous to know' by lady caroline lamb (a married women he publically had an affair with), byron was openly bisexual and deeply hedonistic with a lot of questionable habits, but his poetry was so popular that he was known to have women following him in the street and gathering in large quanities to see him at salons. and this was close to three decades before lizstomania. his close friends and contemporaries included percy and mary shelley, with whom he lived with abroad in italy for some time (this living arrangement resulted in the writing of both frankenstein and john polidori's the vampyre). byron's reputation was so eclipsing that the image of the lush poet lazing in his undergarments has become its own genre of romantic, slightly removed from the movement byron was writing in. it's also worth it to point out that there are no official portraits of byron dressed like this from the time. the visual assumption is somewhat apochryphal. now let's get into some specifics. a.c.e is not unfamiliar to this silhouette; as previously mentioned in this post i wrote about their styling, the boxy loose upper and fitted lower is their general mode for their styling because of its emphasis on legs. cactus was the most extreme example of this, and to prove my point, this specific silhouette is extremely common in classical ballet:

1. vaslav nijinsky, giselle, 1911 2. nehemiah kish, george balanchine's ballo della regina, 2011/12

higher fits very neatly into this same category: we have an emphasis on the legs through tightly fitted garments and also through light reflective textile, as well as a secondary emphasis on arm and shoulder movements with looser fit shirts. plus, the shirts are made from fabrics that have good drape and flow, and mimic the visual effects of water:

there are also several instances of scale patterning and wetlook hair styles, further elabourating on the siren theme. and the jewelry is the same, purposefully cut clear stones for oceanic sparkle or pearls, the gem directly born from water, as highlighting accents to specific parts of the body - namely eyes, hands, and torso:

the body jewelry also serves a double purpose in addition to being sparkly; it gives a semblance of shape to their torsos so their movements aren't totally lost in the shroud of their shirts, and it also invokes some of that salacious element that us as a modern audience doesn't necessarily perceive in the same way when we see a man wearing only a shirt. all of these points are especially prominent in the stage costuming. concerning the veils, these are an aesthetic choice following the theme of depicting water without actually using water. the song has a very breathless quality to it, and the lyrics directly make reference to water and breathlessness, so it only makes sense to have a physical manifestation of struggling to breathe.

now let's talk about

mise-en-scène

unlike most kpop mvs, I would argue that higher is not a spectacle in what we normally see spectacle to be. the overwhelming visual saturation of goblin (and the goblin remix) is more in line with what we expect, but how do you follow that, top it? the answer is that you don't. you aim for something with a completely different feel, which is exact what they did with higher.

the performing arts did not escape romanticism. the very start of the movement, sturm und drang, is actually named from a specific play written by friedrich maximilian klinger that premiered in 1777. the plays of the brief period are characterized by extreme and passionate emotions, and were siblings to one of the most famous genres of theatre, the melodrama. meant to appeal directly to the emotions of the audience using sensationalist plots and stock characters, the melodrama was the predominent form of entertainment in victorian england and gradually developed a specific form of its own. in this period we also start to see the development of 'stagecraft' into the recognizable form that it takes today. footlights, limelight/spotlighting, the separation of house and stage lighting, fly galleries, elevator platform mechanics, and the first (purported) western use of rear projection are all innovations of the late 18th and 19th centuries, as melodramas were known to have very intricate and spectacular stagings. and to go along with these stagecraft mechanics we see the rise in designated stage crews, which were predominantly off-duty sailors looking to make money. the rope systems that made up the fly galleries were very similar to that on ships, and much of the terminology and supersitions crossed over: this is the origin of the term 'rigging' being used for suspending set elements, and also the origin of the 'don't whistle in a theatre' superstition. as sailors communicated with whistle patterns on ships, the same system was adopted for changing scenery, and therefore whistling a random pattern could potentially drop a setpiece on an unsuspecting victim.

so with all this backstory out of the way, what is the very first full location we see? a stage, complete with forced perspective via the painted fabric legs (the side panels) and borders (the wavy upper panels). we even have a flat painted backdrop with a projection screen and hanging overhead lamps. there's also a second interior set, a desk in what looks to be a study of some kind. bit self explanatory on this one, taking the poet notion on the nose.

the locations have a bit of an obtuse arc, but it's there when you look for it. it starts interior spaces, where the ideas of sublime attempted to be recreated for the viewer. then it moves to transitory spaces; portions of nature isolated from a whole environment, interjections of human architecture into natural spaces:

(the white hut structure in the greenhouse is reminiscent of a skene (literally hut/tent), which is the structure at the back of the stage in ancient greek theatre used for the actors to change their masks and costumes. it was originally temporary, but slowly transformed into permanent stage architecture)

and then finally outdoors, into the sublime itself:

jwm turner, crossing the bridge, 1815

lastly,

lighting

there's a very clear lighting pattern here, primarily in light and dark. the base colour story is fairly simple complementary pairs; there's a lot of purple/red and green, and blue and yellow/amber, with everything relatively on the same tonal level. there are deliberate interjections of heavily saturated red for specific effect. there are also, most notably, a 'dark' version of all the sets. obviously as a reference to the eclipse that we see in the mv and in the concept photo series, but also as a reference to that darker undercurrent of the sublime, the upsetting, the uncanny, and the terrifying:

And the bay was white with silent light/Till rising from the same/Full many shapes, that shadows were/In crimson colours came.

[malfoymanortings]

bad child

SUMMARY: Gwendolyn Weasley was the only one of her family to be sorted into Slytherin, and she becomes the black sheep of the family. her morals get twisted as she fights for her place in Slytherin house, but will she lose them completely?

PAIRINGS: none, eventual Draco X OC if continued.

hello! really im not sure if this is worth continuing, but it’s been floating around my mind for awhile so I decided to start writing it out. possibly will become a mini series if anyone wants it? enjoy!

Ginerva and Gwendolyn Weasley were the second set of twins to be born to the Weasley family. Their parents had been ecstatic to finally receive the girls they had so desperately wanted (more so Molly than Arthur), that it temporarily overshadowed the sheer panic of them having been twins. Twin girls.

Their first set of twins, Fred and George, had been more than several handfuls to deal with. If they weren’t lighting something on fire, they were terrorizing their easiest target, their youngest brother Ron.

The girls had proved to be just as difficult in their own way.

From a very early age Gwendolyn was able to convince Ginerva to do just about anything she said. Stealing from muggle shops, their siblings, neighbors; setting out more vindictive traps for the muggles around their neighborhood. The girls were close, but there was always the understanding between them that Gwendolyn was the leader out of the two. In addition to that, she was also the more manipulative and cunning of the two.

That’s not to say that Ginerva wasn’t strong in herself. She just loved her twin dearly, and was willing to put her own morals aside for the sake of keeping the peace with her twin. Gwendolyn had always felt that as the only girls, and the second set of twins, they needed to work hard to stand out and not let opportunities for power pass them by. Even if that power was only enjoying stolen bubble gum while their siblings had none.

Regardless of her questionable morals, Gwendolyn fiercely loved her family and had a conscience, contrary to what her older brother Percy seemed to think. She just cared more about what would be best for her and in turn, her twin, than how her actions would affect others. Gwendolyn would go to the ends of the earth to ensure Ginerva was okay.

By the time the girls had turned nine, their parents had come to realize that although Ginerva was normally at the forefront of the trouble they got into, Gwendolyn was the orchestrator of the scheme. No matter how many times Molly berated the girls for their wrongdoings, they didn’t stop. She spoke with Ginerva and told her she did not always have to go along with her sisters plans, and she spoke with Gwendolyn, telling her just because Ginerva was willing to do things for her didn’t mean she should.

Ginerva had tearfully said she would do better. Gwendolyn had laughed.

When the girls had finally headed off to Hogwarts, their mother had fretted and worried and bitten her nails as she sent them off, giving their older brothers firm instruction to watch over them. Percy had taken the suggestion to heart and swore he would, the twins had saluted their mother and laughed as they nodded, Ron had just shrugged noncommittally. Molly even requested that Harry and Hermione do their best to watch out for them, and the second years promised they would.

Ginerva was sorted first. The hat sat on her head for a few moments before loudly proclaiming “GRYFFINDOR!”. The redhead made her way over to the rest of her redheaded family, who hooted and hollered and made a ruckus as she blushed.

Gwendolyn was next. The hat sat on her head for a few beats longer than her twin, before proclaiming “SLYTHERIN!” just as loudly as it had for Ginvera. The redhead’s eyes widened for a moment, before she quickly fixed her expression into an indifferent mask and walked stiffly towards the green and silver table. Her family at the Gryffindor table had hesitated before clapping; Percy with an expression of horror, the twins with a disappointed grimace, Ron with a mix of concern and fear, and Ginerva with a look of crushed devastation. 

Gwendolyn didn’t spare a second glance towards her family as she set down tentatively at the Slytherin table, hearing murmured whispers coming from an already established friend group a few seats down from her. She had felt out of place without her twin next to her.

“I’m Astoria,” the brunette next to her greeted, holding out a hand for her to shake.

“Gwendolyn,” she replied, giving the other girl a firm shake. “You can call me Gwen.”

The brunette nodded and smiled, before turning her attention back to the sorting.

“Weasley, hm?” a voice drawled to her left, and she turned to see a boy with slicked back silver hair giving her a haughty once over. “I’ll have to let father know they let one of you in Slytherin. Surely the hat has made a mistake. A muggle loving blood traitor would never be allowed in Slytherin.”

Gwendolyn paused for a moment, her thoughts racing. She knew enough about Draco Malfoy to know his approval would make or break her acceptance into Slytherin house. She needed to earn his approval. She had to show him he wasn’t just another Weasley. She had to break free.

Her eyes narrowed. “The hat doesn’t make mistakes, Malfoy. But perhaps you do. I’m not like my family. I absolutely hate muggles. They disgust me.”

She said the words with force, her lip slightly curled up in a snarl. A rush went through her at the admission. Her family would never allow her to talk like that. Although she didn’t thoroughly hate muggles, she certainly didn’t like them. It was thrilling to finally say it out loud.

Draco looked taken aback. He lifted an eyebrow, eyeing her appraisingly. “Well, Weasley, maybe your family isn’t a complete blood traitor waste after all.”

“My name is Gwendolyn.”

“I don’t recall caring.”

The two glowered at each other for a moment, before Dumbledore gathered everyone's attention for his speech. The night went on rather quickly from that moment, and before long they had headed up to their dorms. Gwendolyn spent her first night in Slytherin tower staring at the ceiling and contemplating her future. Tears would be useless. She had to be strong to get through her Hogwarts career. Her sister would not be at her side. That night, she resolved to be strong, sly, and cunning. It was her best bet at getting through the year unscathed.

Gwendolyn proved during her years at Hogwarts that she was nothing like her family. It gained her the approval of Malfoy, which shot her up the social ladder of Slytherin house. Astoria Greengrass had become her closest friend, and the two girls were accepted into Malfoy’s prominent social circle by the end of their first year. Her growth and flourishing in Slytherin house had driven a large wedge between herself and her family. Her voiced distaste of muggles and her turned nose at muggleborns did not go unnoticed by her family.

 In return for being accepted into Slytherin, she had lost her family relationships.

Summers were always the hardest. She no longer had Ginerva as a friend. The girls had grown cold and distant with each other as a result of Ginerva becoming more confident in herself without her sister constantly in her ear. Percy, before he too had abandoned their family for the ministry, had acted as though she didn’t exist. The twins were more and less the same, although they weren’t as sociable towards her as they were towards the others. Ron absolutely despised her for not only being Slytherin, but also being good friends with Malfoy. Charlie and Bill simply weren’t around.

Her mother was, to put it honestly, disappointed in how she had shunned everything she had been taught morally growing up. Her father resented the way she spoke of muggles, and endlessly attempted to change her mind. They didn’t understand that when she was sorted into Slytherin house as the only Weasley, she did what she needed to do to not only thrive, but survive. 

A small part of her that grown bigger over the years couldn’t help but start to believe in what the Slytherin’s thought. Especially with the way her family shunned her and couldn’t understand that she had done what she needed to do as a scared, lonely eleven year old.

Things had gotten worse since Voldemort's return. At the end of her fourth year, Ron and Ginny had accompanied Harry to the Department of Mysteries where they had fought against Death Eaters and Voldemort himself had shown up. Apparently in protest of Umbridge, they had been involved in Dumbledore’s Army, something they had not invited her to be part of. The rest of her family that still attended Hogwarts had been in the club, aside from her. 

She was used to not being included by now, of course. 

Her parents were a part of the Order of the Phoenix, an organization founded to fight Voldemort and his followers. Her siblings were much more informed on what went on during the meetings than she was. It wasn’t from her lack of trying, of course. When they had spent the summer at Grimmauld Place, she had attempted to listen in on the Extendable Ears with the others. But they always managed to shift away slightly or crowd around the ears so there was no way for her to hear. They simply didn’t trust her.

She had heard the Golden Trio speaking on more than one occasion about how she shouldn’t even have been allowed there with them. None of her siblings ever stuck up for her. It stung, but she supposed it was only reasonable. After all, she was a Slytherin. As Ron had always voiced, normally paired with a biting glare towards her, there wasn’t a witch or wizard that was in Slytherin that hadn’t gone bad. Apparently he had adopted the phrase from Hagrid.

So she sat outside most of the summer, alone, lying under the large Sycamore tree a yard away from the house. She had been offered more than once to visit her housemates' places during the summer, but her parents had forbidden it. With the war gaining momentum, it was too much of a risk. The unspoken message was clear. They didn’t trust that she would keep quiet about any 

“Hey, Gwen.”

Gwendolyn turned with a start, her thick red hair tumbling over her shoulder. Harry Potter stood a few feet away from her, looking awkward as he waited for her reply. She examined him for a moment. He was taller now, more filled out and sturdy, she supposed from an aesthetic standpoint she could understand why her sister liked him so much. 

“Can I help you?” the words were sharp, her brow raised as she awaited an answer. 

He rarely talked to her. None of them did really, except for when their mother forced them all too cheerily to interact ast family dinners and the more sparse family outings. But Harry had always treated her as though she were a bomb, one step too close and she might take him out. 

“Well, erm,” Harry seemed to blanch at her boldness. He seemed to have been expecting her to be more like Ginny. “I was wondering… I know you’re friends with Malfoy,” the name fell from his lips in a twisted spit. “Have you heard much from him this summer? I saw him in Knockturn alley while we were shopping for school supplies, and he seemed off. I just was wondering if he had said anything to you that made you worried.”

Gwendolyn stared at him for a moment, listening to him ramble on. He was awful at being subtle. He wanted to know if she knew any of Draco’s secrets, and he thought if he asked her nicely she would willingly give them up. She had to scoff at that. Typical Gryffindor.

“You’re concerned for his well being?” she stood, her voice falsely sweet. “That’s so kind of you, Potter. But from what I recall, you and Draco don’t care much for each other,” she tapped a finger to her chin, pretending to ponder the thought for a moment. “Oh! You were just hoping I would gossip with you. Perhaps next time, try Veritaserum. Or have your little brainiac give you a more subtle approach.”

Harry stuttered for a moment, seeming at a loss for words. He glanced backwards, and she followed his gaze to see Ron and Hermione standing at the front door of the Burrow, watching them. Her eyes narrowed, her jaw clenching.

“Get lost, Potter,” she snarled, anger flashing through her like a hot branding iron. “Or I’ll give them something to watch.”

“Right, erm, sorry.” Harry managed to say, turning and walking swiftly to the house. He didn’t spare her a backwards glance, and the trio slipped into the Burrow the moment Harry came back.

Gwen tamped down on her anger, wishing desperately she were at Hogwarts already. Tomorrow couldn’t come fast enough.

[welllpthisishappening]

Welllp This is...Books. Lots and Lots of Books

That gif is something of a lie. Some of these books were not great. But! Some of them were very good! And some of them were marketed weird — seriously, what does qualify as YA — and some of them I read in, like, six hours and some of them I raged about for six hours after I finished them.

Or: 2020!Laura reverted to 2004!Laura and read just a lot of books and then her husband got her a Kindle and she read even more books and has thoughts on most of those books that she is now going to share with the internet while also making absurd category names. Note that these are only books I read for the first time this year. So, the list is missing some of the stuff I used as coping devices. ALSO SOME SPOILERS AHEAD, YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.

FAVORITE BOOKS THAT MADE A SHITTY YEAR SLIGHTLY BETTER AND ALSO LIKELY MADE ME SWOON A BIT

A Court of Thorns and Roses by Sarah J. Maas

When nineteen-year-old huntress Feyre kills a wolf in the woods, a terrifying creature arrives to demand retribution. Dragged to a treacherous magical land she knows about only from legends, Feyre discovers that her captor is not truly a beast, but one of the lethal, immortal faeries who once ruled her world.

At least, he's not a beast all the time.

As she adapts to her new home, her feelings for the faerie, Tamlin, transform from icy hostility into a fiery passion that burns through every lie she's been told about the beautiful, dangerous world of the Fae. But something is not right in the faerie lands. An ancient, wicked shadow is growing, and Feyre must find a way to stop it, or doom Tamlin-and his world-forever.

— I kid you not, I had to do a lap around the apartment after reading the second book in this series. Why didn’t I read this before? Why isn’t there more fic? Why I am constantly falling for dark-haired sad dudes in love with their wives??? I cannot rec this series enough. It’s got world building and found families, and that dark-haired sad dude, and magic and lore and banter, and it’s so good and I don’t understand why it was marketed as YA. The literary world is weird, guys.

Percy Jackson and the Olympians (and the Heroes of Olympus) by Rick Riordan

Accompany the son of the sea god Poseidon and his other demigod friends as they go on a series of quests that will have them facing monsters, gods, and conniving figures from Greek mythology. Do they have what it takes to save the Olympians from an ancient enemy?

— Straight up, how did you guys cope with Percy and Annabeth when you were kids reading this? I would have been OBSESSED. Quarantine felt like the perfect time to finally read all of these books, and I know it’s sacrilegious to like Heroes of Olympus, but I might have liked parts of that series more? Just because it felt like they were older and I was super into Percabeth being properly in love. Also, now I get why everyone was so upset about the movies. Fair.

The Lunar Chronicles by Marissa Meyer

Humans and androids crowd the raucous streets of New Beijing. A deadly plague ravages the population. From space, a ruthless lunar people watch, waiting to make their move. No one knows that Earth's fate hinges on one girl. . . .Cinder, a gifted mechanic, is a cyborg. She's a second-class citizen with a mysterious past, reviled by her stepmother and blamed for her stepsister's illness. But when her life becomes intertwined with the handsome Prince Kai's, she suddenly finds herself at the center of an intergalactic struggle, and a forbidden attraction. Caught between duty and freedom, loyalty and betrayal, she must uncover secrets about her past in order to protect her world's future.

— Yet another YA series that I will admit to loving this year. Started off a little slow, but once the world building really got underway —and it gets underway — I was hooked. If I had read this at an age-appropriate time I would have been super in love Captain Carswell Thorne. I was still kind of in love with Captan Carswell Thorne. So it should come as no surprise that Cress was my favorite of the series, but I enjoyed the whole thing, really.

Serpent & Dove by Shelby Mahurin

Two years ago, Louise le Blanc fled her coven and took shelter in the city of Cesarine, forsaking all magic and living off whatever she could steal. There, witches like Lou are hunted. They are feared. And they are burned.As a huntsman of the Church, Reid Diggory has lived his life by one principle: Thou shalt not suffer a witch to live. But when Lou pulls a wicked stunt, the two are forced into an impossible situation—marriage.Lou, unable to ignore her growing feelings, yet powerless to change what she is, must make a choice. And love makes fools of us all.

— YO. Y O. THIS WAS SO GOOD. World building! Magic! Marriage of convenience! Well-written enemies to lovers! As soon as I finished this, I bought the sequel. And then got upset the third book in the series isn’t out yet! That’s a frustrating theme for me this year.

The Roommate by Rosie Danan

The Wheatons are infamous among the east coast elite for their lack of impulse control, except for their daughter Clara. She's the consummate socialite: over-achieving, well-mannered, predictable. But every Wheaton has their weakness. When Clara's childhood crush invites her to move cross-country, the offer is too much to resist. Unfortunately, it's also too good to be true.

After a bait-and-switch, Clara finds herself sharing a lease with a charming stranger. Josh might be a bit too perceptive—not to mention handsome—for comfort, but there's a good chance he and Clara could have survived sharing a summer sublet if she hadn't looked him up on the Internet...

Once she learns how Josh has made a name for himself, Clara realizes living with him might make her the Wheaton's most scandalous story yet. His professional prowess inspires her to take tackling the stigma against female desire into her own hands. They may not agree on much, but Josh and Clara both believe women deserve better sex. What they decide to do about it will change both of their lives, and if they're lucky, they'll help everyone else get lucky too.

— I LOVED IT. L O V E D. As I told Justin “there was more porn than I was expecting,” in that porn and the adult film industry was a legitimate plot point and not just a part of Josh’s character, but it was incredibly well written and interesting and I cared about the plot. Sometimes I also wanted to shake Clara, but that was kind of the point.

The Marriage Game by Sara Desai

After her life falls apart, recruitment consultant Layla Patel returns home to her family in San Francisco. But in the eyes of her father, who runs a Michelin starred restaurant, she can do no wrong. He would do anything to see her smile again. With the best intentions in mind, he offers her the office upstairs to start her new business and creates a profile on an online dating site to find her a man. She doesn't know he's arranged a series of blind dates until the first one comes knocking on her door...

As CEO of a corporate downsizing company Sam Mehta is more used to conflict than calm. In search of a quiet new office, he finds the perfect space above a cozy Indian restaurant that smells like home. But when communication goes awry, he's forced to share his space with the owner's beautiful yet infuriating daughter Layla, her crazy family, and a parade of hopeful suitors, all of whom threaten to disrupt his carefully ordered life.

As they face off in close quarters, the sarcasm and sparks fly. But when the battle for the office becomes a battle of the heart, Sam and Layla have to decide if this is love or just a game.

— More well-written enemies to lovers! It’s possible! Seriously, the banter was so good. The kissing was even better. Ridiculous and interfering family is one of my favorite things, and this had it in SPADES. It also made me want to eat samosas, which is kind of my base setting, but I really wanted Indian food whenever I was reading this. Also, the end scene was so goddamn cute I cannot believe it actually happened.

Recipe for Persuasion by Sonali Dev

— The one that got away is one of my favorite tropes, and this modern version of Persuasion did it so well. Everyone was annoying, but in an almost understandable way that made me ache and I just wanted them TO KISS. And then they did kiss! And it was so good! Plus, at the risk of being a little self-indulgent, it was kind of Out of the Frying Pan esque and I liked that a lot. If there is a downside: it’s how quickly the relationship starts up again, like zero to 60 in two seconds flat, and that there were a lot of POVs. Which wouldn’t have been an issue if they’d been labeled, or weren’t bouncing around the timeline randomly. Sometimes I’d have to be like—wait, who’s talking about what?

Chef Ashna Raje desperately needs a new strategy. How else can she save her beloved restaurant and prove to her estranged, overachieving mother that she isn't a complete screw up? When she's asked to join the cast of Cooking with the Stars, the latest hit reality show teaming chefs with celebrities, it seems like just the leap of faith she needs to put her restaurant back on the map. She's a chef, what's the worst that could happen?Rico Silva, that's what.Being paired with a celebrity who was her first love, the man who ghosted her at the worst possible time in her life, only proves what Ashna has always believed: leaps of faith are a recipe for disaster.FIFA winning soccer star Rico Silva isn't too happy to be paired up with Ashna either. Losing Ashna years ago almost destroyed him. The only silver lining to this bizarre situation is that he can finally prove to Ashna that he's definitely over her.But when their catastrophic first meeting goes viral, social media becomes obsessed with their chemistry. The competition on the show is fierce...and so is the simmering desire between Ashna and Rico. Every minute they spend together rekindles feelings that pull them toward their disastrous past. Will letting go again be another recipe for heartbreak—or a recipe for persuasion...?

The Good Luck Charm by Helena Hunting

Lilah isn't sure what hurt worse: the day Ethan left her to focus on his hockey career or the day he came back eight years later. He might think they can pick up just where they left off, but she's no longer that same girl and never wants to be again.

Just when Lilah might finally be ready to let Ethan in, though, she finds out their reunion might have nothing to do with love and everything to do with improving his game. But Ethan's already lost her once, and even if it costs him his career, he'll do anything to keep from losing her again.

— HOCKEY ROM COM. HOCKEY. ROM. COM. Apparently this lady is regarded as the queen of “hockey romance,” which I kind of take offense to, but will give a pass on because this was a very cute book and everyone was cute in it and I was only marginally frustrated by those same people being idiots. As is required by rom coms. Hockey, or otherwise.

A Curse So Dark and Lonely by Brigid Kemmerer

Fall in love, break the curse. It once seemed so easy to Prince Rhen, the heir to Emberfall. Cursed by a powerful enchantress to repeat the autumn of his eighteenth year over and over, he knew he could be saved if a girl fell for him. But that was before he learned that at the end of each autumn, he would turn into a vicious beast hell-bent on destruction. That was before he destroyed his castle, his family, and every last shred of hope.

Nothing has ever been easy for Harper. With her father long gone, her mother dying, and her brother barely holding their family together while constantly underestimating her because of her cerebral palsy, she learned to be tough enough to survive. But when she tries to save someone else on the streets of Washington, DC, she's instead somehow sucked into Rhen's cursed world.

Break the curse, save the kingdom. A prince? A monster? A curse? Harper doesn't know where she is or what to believe. But as she spends time with Rhen in this enchanted land, she begins to understand what's at stake. And as Rhen realizes Harper is not just another girl to charm, his hope comes flooding back. But powerful forces are standing against Emberfall . . . and it will take more than a broken curse to save Harper, Rhen, and his people from utter ruin.

— Beauty and the Beast AU!!! Fantasy! Magic! Romance! I loved this, even when Rhen was being a whiny idiot. But he was also cursed, so like—fair. This dives into the politics of a cursed kingdom, puts a fun spin on the original fairy tale and also has a sequel. Which I read, and possibly enjoyed more. Only to realize the third book isn’t published yet, and then got annoyed by that.

QUESTIONABLY-GOOD FREE FANTASY BOOKS ON AMAZON

The Silver and Orchids Collection by Shari L Tapscott

What happens when a feisty adventuress, a lord looking to make his own way in the world, and a handsome sea captain set out to find Kalae’s rarest and most valuable flower?

Trouble—and lots of it.

— Snarky flirting! Adventure! Sword fights! Listen, this is not prize-winning fiction, but Lucia is a fun heroine, the rest of her adventure-seeking friends are an absolute delight and you don’t have to think too much while reading it. All four books wrap up their individual storylines, but help set up the next one and while the ending felt a little forced (and way too quick) I didn’t hate it enough to throw the Kindle across the room.

Forest of Firelight by Shari L. Tapscsott

After the sudden death of her brother, Princess Amalia is charged with what feels like an impossible task—she must choose the next king. Youthful thoughts of love are pushed aside as she accepts her fate, setting upon a quest throughout the kingdom to find a man worthy of her father’s throne.

Little does Amalia know, someone has already set his sights on her.

Rhys is a man of secrets, and his mission is simple: befriend the princess of Renove. Coax her to trust him, convince her to follow him.

Betray her when it’s time.

All goes according to plan until Rhys meets the princess. Amalia is a disaster. Never has he met someone so drawn to trouble. Never has he met someone so irritatingly likable.

He’s not allowed to fall for her.

She could never entrust him with a crown.

But, unbeknownst to them, their unlikely partnership might be the key to saving their entire world from a darkness that’s slowly creeping from the wounded earth that separates one kingdom from the next.

— FORBIDDEN LOVE! It’s good! Real good! I read this whole series (or the three books in it, so far) in a questionably short amount of time. Again, not the deepest story, and Amalia is occasionally frustratingly dumb. While Rhys is also sort of all-knowing in that fantasy hero sort of way? Y’know what I mean? Still, they banter very well, and eventually kiss even better.

LESS GOOD FANTASY BOOKS THAT PROBABLY SHOULD HAVE JUST BEEN AVAILABLE FOR FREE ON AMAZON

Ash Princess by Laura Sebastian

Theodosia was six when her country was invaded and her mother, the Fire Queen, was murdered before her eyes. On that day, the Kaiser took Theodosia's family, her land, and her name. Theo was crowned Ash Princess—a title of shame to bear in her new life as a prisoner.

For ten years Theo has been a captive in her own palace. She's endured the relentless abuse and ridicule of the Kaiser and his court. She is powerless, surviving in her new world only by burying the girl she was deep inside.

Then, one night, the Kaiser forces her to do the unthinkable. With blood on her hands and all hope of reclaiming her throne lost, she realizes that surviving is no longer enough. But she does have a weapon: her mind is sharper than any sword. And power isn't always won on the battlefield.

For ten years, the Ash Princess has seen her land pillaged and her people enslaved. That all ends here.

— I wanted to love this series. So much so that I read the whole thing. All three books. And I’m still not sure why. The world building, maybe. Which was very good, and the politics actually kept me interested, but every single character was the absolute worst and I kind of wanted them all to die. That’s not even an exaggeration. Spoiler, they didn’t all die. I was only marginally disappointed.

Daughter of the Pirate King by Tricia Levenseller

When the ruthless Pirate King learns of a legendary treasure map hidden on an enemy ship, his daughter, Alosa, knows that there's only one pirate for the job—herself. Leaving behind her beloved ship and crew, Alosa deliberately facilitates her own kidnapping to ensure her passage on the enemy ship. After all, who's going to suspect a seventeen-year-old girl locked in a cell?Then she meets the (surprisingly perceptive and unfairly attractive) first mate, Riden, who is charged with finding out all her secrets. Now it's down to a battle of wits and will... Can Alosa find the map and escape before Riden figures out her plan?

— Alosa was kind of the worst? Like, STRONG FEMALE CHARACTER who had to keep reminding you how strong she was because she would kill anyone, and had an all female pirate crew. And the whole time I was just like, ok...cool. Still, I read the sequel too and that was slightly better.

The Shadows Between Us by Tricia Levenseller

Alessandra is tired of being overlooked, but she has a plan to gain power:

1) Woo the Shadow King.

2) Marry him.

3) Kill him and take his kingdom for herself.

No one knows the extent of the freshly crowned Shadow King's power. Some say he can command the shadows that swirl around him to do his bidding. Others say they speak to him, whispering the thoughts of his enemies. Regardless, Alessandra knows what she deserves, and she's going to do everything within her power to get it.

But Alessandra's not the only one trying to kill the king. As attempts on his life are made, she finds herself trying to keep him alive long enough for him to make her his queen—all while struggling not to lose her heart. After all, who better for a Shadow King than a cunning, villainous queen?

— I cannot explain this book any way except to tell you it is so weird. Like, sometimes I remember I read this and all I can think is: why did this book happen? It felt like it started in the middle of the story, which is not a knock on the story itself, but mostly on the world building. Which was lacking to say the least. Also the resolution was super rushed and even more weird and I was like—why does he like her??? I still don’t know, honestly.

The Stars We Steal by Alexa Donne

Engagement season is in the air. Eighteen-year-old Princess Leonie "Leo" Kolburg, heir to a faded European spaceship, has only one thing on her mind: which lucky bachelor can save her family from financial ruin?

But when Leo's childhood friend and first love, Elliot, returns as the captain of a successful whiskey ship, everything changes. Elliot was the one who got away, the boy Leo's family deemed to be unsuitable for marriage. Now he's the biggest catch of the season and he seems determined to make Leo's life miserable. But old habits die hard, and as Leo navigates the glittering balls of the Valg Season, she finds herself falling for her first love in a game of love, lies, and past regrets.

— Another book whose lack of world building hurt it. Stuff just happened, and we were expected to understand it and be into it and I was neither. I had no reason to care about anyone in this book, especially Elliot who seemed like an asshole.

To Kill a Kingdom by Alexandra Christo

Princess Lira is siren royalty and the most lethal of them all. With the hearts of seventeen princes in her collection, she is revered across the sea. Until a twist of fate forces her to kill one of her own. To punish her daughter, the Sea Queen transforms Lira into the one thing they loathe most—a human. Robbed of her song, Lira has until the winter solstice to deliver Prince Elian's heart to the Sea Queen and or remain a human forever.The ocean is the only place Prince Elian calls home, even though he is heir to the most powerful kingdom in the world. Hunting sirens is more than an unsavory hobby—it's his calling. When he rescues a drowning woman in the ocean, she's more than what she appears. She promises to help him find the key to destroying all of sirenkind for good—But can he trust her? And just how many deals will Elian have to barter to eliminate mankind's greatest enemy?

— This book did not go the way I thought it was going to. Not a bad thing, but also not the best and the ending was...bleh. The middle, though? That was legit, and the action was good. I am always a fan of sword fights. Still, there was something that left me waiting for the final push towards great and it just never really came.

ROM-COMS WITH ONLY PASSABLY FRUSTRATING PLOTS AND GOOD KISSING

Party of Two by Jasmine Guillory

Dating is the last thing on Olivia Monroe's mind when she moves to LA to start her own law firm. But when she meets a gorgeous man at a hotel bar and they spend the entire night flirting, she discovers too late that he is none other than hotshot junior senator Max Powell. Olivia has zero interest in dating a politician, but when a cake arrives at her office with the cutest message, she can't resist—it is chocolate cake, after all.

Olivia is surprised to find that Max is sweet, funny, and noble—not just some privileged white politician, as she assumed him to be. Because of Max's high-profile job, they start seeing each other secretly, which leads to clandestine dates and silly disguises. But when they finally go public, the intense media scrutiny means people are now digging up her rocky past and criticizing her job, even her suitability as a trophy girlfriend. Olivia knows what she has with Max is something special, but is it strong enough to survive the heat of the spotlight?

— It was cute. Max was occasionally an idiot. The kissing was legit. Most of their problems could have very easily been solved, but that’s kind of this genre’s schtick.

The Worst Best Man by Mia Sosa

A wedding planner left at the altar? Yeah, the irony isn't lost on Carolina Santos, either. But despite that embarrassing blip from her past, Lina's offered an opportunity that could change her life. There's just one hitch... she has to collaborate with the best (make that worst) man from her own failed nuptials. Marketing expert Max Hartley is determined to make his mark with a coveted hotel client looking to expand its brand. Then he learns he'll be working with his brother's whip-smart, stunning—absolutely off-limits—ex-fiancée. And she loathes him.If they can nail their presentation without killing each other, they'll both come out ahead. Except Max has been public enemy number one ever since he encouraged his brother to jilt the bride, and Lina's ready to dish out a little payback of her own.Soon Lina and Max discover animosity may not be the only emotion creating sparks between them. Still, this star-crossed couple can never be more than temporary playmates because Lina isn't interested in falling in love and Max refuses to play runner-up to his brother ever again...

— Once you got past the hooking up with your ex’s brother thing, it was cute. Max was endearing in an earnest sort of way, even when Lina was STRONG FEMALE CHARACTER in a cliche sort of way. More solid kissing. Side note, why are so many rom com dudes named Max? Does it sound hip? Passably cool, but also approachable? Discuss. 

Not that Kind of Guy by Andie J. Christopher

State attorney Bridget Nolan is successful in all aspects of her life—except romance. After breaking up with her longtime boyfriend, she's been slow to reenter the dating scene. To be honest, she has more important things to do like putting bad guys behind bars. But with her brother's wedding right around the corner, she suddenly needs a date and fast. Lucky for Bridget, the legal intern is almost done with his program.

Matt Kido is dumbstruck by Bridget—total love at first sight—but there's one problem. She's totally off-limits while she's his boss. But the moment he no longer reports to her, Matt asks her on a date. An impulsive decision takes them to Las Vegas where, as the saying goes, what happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas.

Unless you put a ring on it.

— Having written the “wake up in Vegas married” trope before, I know it’s difficult to do right. Consent’s a thing, y’know? And stuff gets dicy with forgotten memories, and all that, but mostly what kept me from truly loving this book was the intern thing. Don’t date your interns guys, it’s weird and off-putting. Literally if he’d just been a junior partner, or a visiting partner or something else I would have been all in.

Meet Cute by Helena Hunting

Kailyn Flowers was always calm, rational, and controlled—until she ended up sprawled all over Daxton Hughes, the former actor she totally crushed on as a teenager. Then she did the unthinkable: She became a mortifying fangirl in five seconds flat, which may or may not have included professing her undying love. And oddly, he didn't run away. In fact, their meet cute led to a friendship she never saw coming. Of course, she never saw his betrayal coming, either...Now Dax needs her help. As guardian to his thirteen-year-old sister, he's in way over his head. And though Kailyn hasn't forgiven Dax, she isn't heartless enough to make him fend for himself, either. Soon their friendly meetings turn into flirty dinner dates, and Kailyn can feel their chemistry is as explosive as ever. But how can she possibly let down her guard again to a guy who has heartbreak written all over him?

— Once again here for the one that got away trope, even if this comes with dead parents and some sad storylines. It still managed to be cute. Everyone was cute in it. Occasionally Daxton was a dick. As rom com male leads are apt to be.

If I Never Met You by Mhairi McFarlane

If faking love is this easy... how do you know when it's real?When her partner of over a decade suddenly ends things, Laurie is left reeling—not only because they work at the same law firm and she has to see him every day. Her once perfect life is in shambles and the thought of dating again in the age of Tinder is nothing short of horrifying. When news of her ex's pregnant girlfriend hits the office grapevine, taking the humiliation lying down is not an option. Then a chance encounter in a broken-down elevator with the office playboy opens up a new possibility.Jamie Carter doesn't believe in love, but he needs a respectable, steady girlfriend to impress their bosses. Laurie wants a hot new man to give the rumor mill something else to talk about. It's the perfect proposition: a fauxmance played out on social media, with strategically staged photographs and a specific end date in mind. With the plan hatched, Laurie and Jamie begin to flaunt their new couple status, to the astonishment—and jealousy—of their friends and colleagues. But there's a fine line between pretending to be in love and actually falling for your charming, handsome fake boyfriend...

— FAKE DATING THAT LEADS TO REAL FEELINGS. The ex-boyfriend was an assssss, the fake boyfriend was charming, everything was good AND THEN WE GOT TO THE END. Which felt more than a little rushed, unexpected and not really in line with the rest of the book?? Give ‘em a slightly better, in-character ending, and I would have been sold.

BOOKS THAT I WAS LIKE...EH, OK

The Night Circus by Erin Morgenstern

The circus arrives without warning. No announcements precede it. It is simply there, when yesterday it was not. Within the black-and-white striped canvas tents is an utterly unique experience full of breathtaking amazements. It is called Le Cirque des Rêves, and it is only open at night.

But behind the scenes, a fierce competition is underway: a duel between two young magicians, Celia and Marco, who have been trained since childhood expressly for this purpose by their mercurial instructors. Unbeknownst to them both, this is a game in which only one can be left standing. Despite the high stakes, Celia and Marco soon tumble headfirst into love, setting off a domino effect of dangerous consequences, and leaving the lives of everyone, from the performers to the patrons, hanging in the balance.

— I think this book was too smart for me. The prose was gorgeous, and the whole thing was very pretty and I definitely swooned when Marco said he wished for Celia. And yet. By the end I was like...eh, ok. Maybe it was the timeline? Jumping around, or how little dialogue there was. I wanted to like it all so badly, and I’m just not sure I did.

Acting on Impulse by Mia Sosa

After a very public breakup with a media-hungry politician, fitness trainer Tori Alvarez escapes to Aruba for rest, relaxation, and copious amounts of sex on the beach—the cocktail, that is. She vows to keep her vacation a man-free zone but when a cute guy is seated next to her on the plane, Tori can't resist a little harmless flirting.Hollywood heartthrob Carter Stone underwent a dramatic physical transformation for his latest role and it's clear his stunning seat mate doesn't recognize the man beneath the shaggy beard and extra lean frame. Now Carter needs help rebuilding his buff physique and Tori is perfect for the job. It doesn't hurt that she makes his pulse pound in more ways than one.Sparks are flying, until a pesky paparazzo reveals Carter's identity. Tori is hurt and pissed. She wants nothing to do with another man in the limelight, but she's still got to whip him into shape. Can Carter convince Tori he's worth the threat to her privacy that comes with dating a famous actor, or will Tori chisel him down to nothing before he even gets the chance?

— Dudes have gotta stop lying about who they are. It’s not a great trope. Other than that, the kissing was good. The romance was like...eh. I honestly don’t remember much else.

Twice in a Blue Moon by Christina Lauren

During a whirlwind two-week vacation abroad, Sam and Tate fell for each other in only the way that first loves do: sharing all of their hopes, dreams, and deepest secrets along the way. Sam was the first, and only, person that Tate—the long-lost daughter of one of the world's biggest film stars—ever revealed her identity to. So when it became clear her trust was misplaced, her world shattered for good.

Fourteen years later, Tate, now an up-and-coming actress, only thinks about her first love every once in a blue moon. When she steps onto the set of her first big break, he's the last person she expects to see. Yet here Sam is, the same charming, confident man she knew, but even more alluring than she remembered. Forced to confront the man who betrayed her, Tate must ask herself if it's possible to do the wrong thing for the right reason... and whether "once in a lifetime" can come around twice.

— This book was...weird. The early romance was wonderful and delightful, but then shit hit the fan and Sam and Tate are adults and...weird. Like, I cannot come up with another word for it. Also, they didn’t really talk much? As adults? Working on the same movie set? W e i r d.

I Owe You One by Sophie Kinsella

Fixie Farr has always lived by her father’s motto: “Family first.” And since her dad passed away, leaving his charming housewares store in the hands of his wife and children, Fixie spends all her time picking up the slack from her siblings instead of striking out on her own. The way Fixie sees it, if she doesn’t take care of her father’s legacy, who will?

It’s simply not in Fixie’s nature to say no to people. So when a handsome stranger in a coffee shop asks her to watch his laptop for a moment, she not only agrees—she ends up saving it from certain disaster. To thank Fixie for her quick thinking, the computer’s owner, Sebastian, an investment manager, scribbles an IOU on a coffee sleeve and attaches his business card. Fixie laughs it off—she’d never actually claim an IOU from a stranger. Would she?

But then Fixie’s childhood crush, Ryan, comes back into her life, and his lack of a profession pushes all of Fixie’s buttons. As always, she wants nothing for herself—but she’d love Seb to give Ryan a job. No sooner has Seb agreed than the tables are turned once more and a new series of IOUs between Seb and Fixie—from small favors to life-changing moments—ensues. Soon Fixie, Ms. Fixit for everyone else, is torn between her family and the life she really wants. Does she have the courage to take a stand? Will she finally grab the life, and love, she really wants?

— Let’s be upfront, I’ve read a lot of Sophie Kinsella in my life, and more often than not I enjoy what she writes. I mostly did here. It was a book. With obvious rom com problems, that could have very easily been solved, but it wasn’t horrible. So, that was good, I guess.

The Wedding Party by Jasmine Guillory

Maddie and Theo have two things in common:

1. Alexa is their best friend

2. They hate each other

After an "oops, we made a mistake" night together, neither one can stop thinking about the other. With Alexa's wedding rapidly approaching, Maddie and Theo both share bridal party responsibilities that require more interaction with each other than they're comfortable with. Underneath the sharp barbs they toss at each other is a simmering attraction that won't fade. It builds until they find themselves sneaking off together to release some tension when Alexa isn't looking, agreeing they would end it once the wedding is over. When it's suddenly pushed up and they only have a few months left of secret rendezvouses, they find themselves regretting that the end is near. Two people this different can't possibly have a connection other than the purely physical, right?

But as with any engagement with a nemesis, there are unspoken rules that must be abided by. First and foremost, don't fall in love.

— Eh, this book happened. I still have no idea why they couldn’t be together from the get. Obstacles for the sake of plot, I guess. Also political side stories? I don’t know, guys.

WEIRD POST-ENDING FEELINGS WERE INDUCED

Beach Read by Emily Henry

Augustus Everett is an acclaimed author of literary fiction. January Andrews writes bestselling romance. When she pens a happily ever after, he kills off his entire cast.

They're polar opposites.

In fact, the only thing they have in common is that for the next three months, they're living in neighboring beach houses, broke, and bogged down with writer's block.

Until, one hazy evening, one thing leads to another and they strike a deal designed to force them out of their creative ruts: Augustus will spend the summer writing something happy, and January will pen the next Great American Novel. She'll take him on field trips worthy of any rom-com montage, and he'll take her to interview surviving members of a backwoods death cult (obviously). Everyone will finish a book and no one will fall in love. Really.

— Listen, I enjoyed this a lot. For the most part. It was funny, and introspective in a way that didn’t make me want to gag too much, and I wanted to defend January’s love of love with everything in me. But, then it—ended. And it was like...all tied up with this nice little ribbon and happily ever after, and I was like...oh, ok. Part of me that it was glad it ended like that, mostly because of who I am as a person, but the rest of me was also confused that after everything January and Augustus had been through and how messy their lives were it could just get all wrapped up in this HEA.

HITTING JUST A BIT TOO CLOSE TO HOME

Spoiler Alert by Olivia Dade

Marcus Caster-Rupp has a secret. The world may know him as Aeneas, star of the biggest show on television, but fanfiction readers call him something else: Book!AeneasWouldNever. Marcus gets out his frustrations with the show through anonymous stories about the internet's favorite couple, Aeneas and Lavinia. But if anyone discovered his online persona, he'd be finished in Hollywood.April Whittier has secrets of her own. A hardcore Lavinia fan, she's long hidden her fanfic and cosplay hobbies from her "real life"—but not anymore. When she dares to post her latest costume creation on Twitter, her plus-size take goes viral. And when Marcus asks her out to spite her internet critics, truth officially becomes stranger than fanfiction. On their date, Marcus quickly realizes he wants more from April than a one-time publicity stunt. But when he discovers she's Unapologetic Lavinia Stan, his closest fandom friend, he has one more huge secret to keep from her.With love and Marcus's career on the line, can the two of them stop hiding once and for all, or will a match made in fandom end up prematurely cancelled?

— Here for plus-size heroines who get the guy and don’t have their (entire) storyline defined by their looks. Less here for the weird fandom culture, the ensuing second-hand embarrassment that came from that and the thankfulness that both Colin O’Donoghue and Bob Morley appear to be happily married so it seems very unlikely they’re writing fic about their characters under pseudonyms. Stop using Ao3 in actual published stories 2k4ever.

RAGE-INDUCING BOOKS OF ABSOLUTE FURY

The Friend Zone by Abby Jimenez

Kristen Peterson doesn't do drama, will fight to the death for her friends, and has no room in her life for guys who just don't get her. She's also keeping a big secret: facing a medically necessary procedure that will make it impossible for her to have children.Planning her best friend's wedding is bittersweet for Kristen — especially when she meets the best man, Josh Copeland. He's funny, sexy, never offended by her mile-wide streak of sarcasm, and always one chicken enchilada ahead of her hangry. Even her dog, Stuntman Mike, adores him. The only catch: Josh wants a big family someday. Kristen knows he'd be better off with someone else, but as their attraction grows, it's harder and harder to keep him at arm's length.The Friend Zone will have you laughing one moment and grabbing for tissues the next as it tackles the realities of infertility and loss with wit, heart, and a lot of sass.

— LISTEN THERE ARE SPOILERS HERE, BUT I FEEL LIKE YOU SHOULD KNOW ABOUT THEM BECAUSE THIS BOOK IS A SECRET GUT PUNCH AND PEOPLE SHOULD BE AWARE. Not only is infertility, like, the defining theme of this book, but the BEST FRIEND DIES. Just—dies. It’s horrible. Absolutely God awful depressing. And for a second he looks like he won’t, and it’ll be fine, but then it is not and he’s just D E A D. I know, I know that sets up the sequel, but this was so goddamn heavy in an unsuspecting way that I have absolutely no intention of reading the next one.

Well Met by Jen DeLuca

Emily knew there would be strings attached when she relocated to the small town of Willow Creek, Maryland, for the summer to help her sister recover from an accident, but who could anticipate getting roped into volunteering for the local Renaissance Faire alongside her teenaged niece? Or that the irritating and inscrutable schoolteacher in charge of the volunteers would be so annoying that she finds it impossible to stop thinking about him?

The faire is Simon's family legacy and from the start he makes clear he doesn't have time for Emily's lighthearted approach to life, her oddball Shakespeare conspiracy theories, or her endless suggestions for new acts to shake things up. Yet on the faire grounds he becomes a different person, flirting freely with Emily when she's in her revealing wench's costume. But is this attraction real, or just part of the characters they're portraying?

This summer was only ever supposed to be a pit stop on the way to somewhere else for Emily, but soon she can't seem to shake the fantasy of establishing something more with Simon or a permanent home of her own in Willow Creek.

— FUCK THIS BOOK. And fuck Simon, specifically. Oh, you have a sad story? Cool, you’re still a dick. He was a dick. Listen, I know enemies to lovers is a hard trope to write, but it’s even harder to accept when those enemies just announce I LIKED YOU THE WHOLE TIME and then everyone starts ripping off their clothes. No, it’s dumb. I hate it. Apparently there’s a sequel to this book. Maybe that’s better.

Kiss My Cupcake by Helena Hunting

Blaire Calloway has planned every Instagram-worthy moment of her cupcake and cocktails shop launch down to the tiniest detail. What she didn't plan on? Ronan Knight and his old-school sports bar next door opening on the very same day. He may be super swoony, but Blaire hasn't spent years obsessing over buttercream and bourbon to have him ruin her chance at success.From axe throwing (his place) to frosting contests (hers), Blaire and Ronan are constantly trying to one-up each other in a battle to win new customers. But with every clash, there's also an undeniable chemistry. When an even bigger threat to their business comes to town, they're forced to call a temporary time-out on their own war and work together. And the more time Blaire spends getting to know the real Ronan, the more she wonders if it's possible to have her cupcake and eat it too.

— Listen, I wanted to like this one. There were plenty other Helena Hunting books on this list, so like—I don’t hate her. I just hate poorly executed enemies to lovers plot lines. Give me at least one moment where they are interested in each other aside from just being attracted to each other. Also: Stop Having Dudes Be Dicks Because Of Their Sad Backstory 2k4ever.

Don’t You Forget About Me by Mhairi McFarlane

You always remember your first love... don't you?If there's anything worse than being fired from the worst restaurant in town, it's coming home early to find your boyfriend in bed with someone else. Reeling from the humiliation of a double dumping in one day, Georgina takes the next job that comes her way—bartender in a newly opened pub. There's only one problem: it's run by the guy she fell in love with years ago. And—make that two problems—he doesn't remember her. At all. But she has fabulous friends and her signature hot pink fur coat... what more could a girl really need?Lucas McCarthy has not only grown into a broodingly handsome man, but he's also turned into an actual grown-up, with a thriving business and a dog along the way. Crossing paths with him again throws Georgina's rocky present into sharp relief—and brings a secret from her past bubbling to the surface. Only she knows what happened twelve years ago, and why she's allowed the memories to chase her ever since. But maybe it's not too late for the truth... or a second chance with the one that got away?

— HE WAS JUST PRETENDING NOT TO REMEMBER HER THE WHOLE TIME???? WHAT?? WHY??? D U M B. Dumb boys are dumb.

Not the Girl You Marry by Andie J. Christopher

Jack Nolan is a gentleman, a journalist, and unlucky in love. His viral success has pigeon-holed him as the how-to guy for a buzzy, internet media company instead of covering hard-hitting politics. Fed up with his fluffy articles and the app-based dating scene as well, he strikes a deal with his boss to write a final piece de resistance: How to Lose a Girl. Easier said than done when the girl he meets is Hannah Mayfield, and he's not sure he wants her to dump him.

Hannah is an extremely successful event planner who's focused on climbing the career ladder. Her firm is one of the most prestigious in the city, and she's determined to secure her next promotion. But Hannah has a bit of an image problem. She needs to show her boss that she has range, including planning dreaded, romantic weddings. Enter Jack. He's the perfect man to date for a couple weeks to prove to her boss that she's not scared of feelings.

Before Jack and Hannah know it, their fake relationship starts to feel all too real—and neither of them can stand to lose each other.

— This is actually the prequel to Not That Kind of Guy and I honestly can’t believe I read that after hating this book so much. They were awful to each other! Their whole relationship was based on lies! Mean lies! Horrible lies! Don’t lie to your significant other!

[melancholic-pigeon]

WIP Wednesday #12

Set shortly after Percy and Jason meet in freshman year of high school (14/15 years old). Content warnings for domestic violence, child neglect and abuse, alcoholism and food insecurity.

"That's horrifying. You know that's horrifying, right? Please tell me you know that's horrifying." 

Sally hears Percy's voice before she gets to the kitchen. She's heard it like that before, and it never means anything good. 

She makes her footfalls heavier so that the boys aren't startled by her approach. She's ready to appear in the doorway and smile like she didn't hear a thing and ask them how their studying is going and if they'd like a snack— but Percy cuts her off before she can even open her mouth. 

"Can Jason borrow you for a second? I'm trying to prove a point." 

She looks at the two of them, textbooks and notepads and mechanical pencils spread out on the table. From the work on the paper, they haven't done much more than they had the last time she checked in, an hour or so ago. 

Percy's frenetic, though he's trying to hide it. She doesn't know Jason all that well yet, but he's sitting very still, and she gets the feeling he's holding something in, too.

"If he'd like to, certainly." She rinses out her mug and puts on the kettle, her back to them so that Jason has a second to think about it. "Hot cocoa or tea?" 

When she turns around, his face has changed. Not by much, but she can see a tiny shade of nervousness. 

"Cocoa, please. Thank you." 

He's almost painfully polite, much more so than a fourteen year old boy should be in such a casual setting. She keeps hearing her son in her head, and tries not to speculate on what he found horrifying. 

"It really wasn't that bad." 

"I'm gonna make the cocoa." Percy gets up from the table in an explosive movement. "Because otherwise, I'm just gonna interrupt you every two seconds to tell you that it was worse than you're making it out to be."

Jason rolls his eyes, but it makes him relax a little, too. 

"I never said the whole thing wasn't bad, just that I didn't suffer. All of the really terrible parts happened to Thalia, not me. She made sure of that." 

Percy makes an indignant noise. There's a picture starting to form in Sally's head, patchworking together from the pieces she already has, and she doesn't like it. 

"You don't have to say anything until you're ready, sweetheart." 

She doesn't even think about it. It's second nature with Percy's friends by now. Jason, she reminds herself, has only been around for four months; his eyes widen, like it's the first time anyone has ever called him that. 

Maybe it is. Maybe that's why he's so nervous. 

Percy clatters around behind them. She can hear the kettle starting to rumble and the soft exhalation from across the table. 

"It seriously wasn't," Jason repeats, like he's trying to assure himself more than Sally. 

She can remember thinking the same thing, going through the same process, telling herself that at least her first husband only used his fists. 

"Tell her what you told me," Percy insists over the clinking of the spoon as he stirs the cocoa. 

Jason meets Sally's eyes, with a vulnerability she hasn't seen him wear so plainly.

"I don't know how much Thalia's said about it. I'd assume not a whole lot. There's stuff she still won't tell me, either." 

"She's trying to protect you." Percy puts Jason's mug across from him and takes his seat again. "And she's allergic to sharing her anxieties, for a much better reason than I thought." 

"It's a habit. She was maybe nine years old, tops, when she started shoving it all down." Jason frowns, running his fingers over the handle of his mug. "I didn't have a clue how bad it actually was, because she hid it from me. All I knew was that when Mom was gone for a while, we'd play a game where we'd hunt for all of her empty bottles and cans, and Thalia would let me win and take us to the gas station and buy me a snack as a prize so I wouldn't whine at her while she was getting the rest of our groceries." 

There aren't really any good possibilities in a situation like this, but Sally's heart still plummets into her gut. 

"He thought it was fun," Percy mutters darkly. "Like a field trip where he got treats, instead of his third-grade sister stealing, skipping meals and collecting booze receptacles to exchange for coin deposits because their mom was too busy getting plastered to feed them and their dad cared more about his reputation than the welfare of his children."

There are a million things she could say, including every word that's come out of Percy's mouth so far. He's looking at her, weighed down by the same helpless rage he often carries when they talk about things like this. She feels it too, just as bitterly, though she's no longer apt to show it on her face like that.

"That's awfully young to be left on your own," she tells Jason, taking his hand. She can feel her eyes stinging as he squeezes back, hard, his jaw held tense. "And kids notice. It was hard on you, too, even if you didn't know why." 

She feels Percy grab her free hand under the table. She'd tried everything she could think of to shelter him— and all he learned from it was how to keep his own secrets from her. 

If she hadn't found his stash of concealer and powder, she'd never have known he'd somehow learned the same trick she used. If he hadn't walked in on her with the palettes in her hands and tears streaming down her face, he never would have known it wasn't just him.

They don't keep secrets anymore. It's terrifying, but it's worth it; with honesty comes trust, and now Percy doesn't try to hide when something's wrong. At least not with her. 

"Sometimes I wonder if that's why she's so tiny." Jason stares into his cocoa, still holding onto Sally's hand. "I don't think I went to bed hungry more than once or twice. Thalia used to do it all the time. She'd tell me she ate while I was asleep, and since I was, like, two, I didn't know any better but to believe her." 

Suddenly, Sally understands why Thalia was crying so hard.

("He's gotten so tall— I couldn't feel his ribs—")

She can still vividly remember staring at the cupboards while her little boy clawed at her leg, realizing there wasn't enough for them both and she was still two days away from getting paid. She went that long once, and only broke her fast because she fainted at work. 

Her manager— one of the rare good ones she'd had— had kept her clocked in, hauled ass across the street to buy her a peanut butter milkshake and made her sit in his office and rest for the remainder of her shift. After that, he worked hard to push through the promotion that the store manager kept finding excuses to avoid, and with it came enough of a pay raise that she didn't have to do it more than once or twice a month. 

She'd been twenty-four at the time. Thalia wasn't even in double digits, apparently.

"I'm okay, Ms. Jackson. It was a long time ago." 

She realizes she's tearing up only when Jason cuts through her thoughts. He's smiling, and he really does look healthy and cared for, if a little coltish.

"Honey." She lets go of his hand to grip his shoulder, her grip almost as tight as her throat. "I'm not your teacher. I'm a friend who wishes she could go back in time and adopt you. Please call me Sally." 

It lightens the mood like a match illuminating total darkness. Jason slumps in the chair with a breathless laugh, glancing nervously at her. 

"It's a hard habit to break, but I'll try." 

She wants nothing more than to pull him into a hug, but she doesn't want to spook him. She smiles back at him instead, as warmly as she can possibly manage.

"Trying at all is something to be proud of." 

-Untitled WIP from Sally's POV! stellarverse AU, shortly after Jason and Percy meet freshman year of high school. Some additional excerpts of published fics for context below the cut.

On the one hand, it makes him giddy to expose Jason to unconditional parental support, but on the other, the fact that he has to go to Percy's parents for that support because he can't get it from his own is spittle-frothingly rage-inducing. 

When they're at home, the only thing they have to worry about is not getting too handsy in front of the baby or scarring Percy's parents for life, or at most, doing the dishes because Jason felt it was his duty as guest. He'd vehemently insist, saying it was the only way he could think of to express his gratitude, which would make Percy's mom tear up and hug him tight and tell him that being good to her firstborn was all the thanks she needed. 

She's always liked Jason, and she's always worried about him, too. She's certainly heard enough of Percy's ranting to stay on top of the situation, and was already known for remembering everything she's ever been told about someone's tragic backstory. Jason, like most of Percy's friends, was desperately lacking that energy in his life, and by the third visit he'd given her a rundown of his entire life history. 

I feel like I can tell her anything, he'd said to Percy later, thrown off his game by a particularly raw word-vomit. Every bit of it is massively unfair–that Jason's stepmother takes out her anger over her spouse's infidelity on the children who'd had no choice in being born, that his father didn't care enough about him to do anything more than show up once or twice a month and give him a blistering, vaguely threatening lecture, that his mother had barely even remembered he existed, and only by enough to make herself look more pitiable. 

Most upsetting of all was that his sister–seven or eight years old then–had essentially been forced to parent him through toddlerhood by herself, because no one else was paying enough attention to stop a two-year-old from trying to give himself a lip piercing with a stapler. Half the time, nobody else was paying enough attention to feed him, either.

It makes Percy want to throw something out a window. Fortunately for everyone, while she's in agreement, his mom has a lot more experience in channeling her anger productively than he does, and isn't prone to agitating herself into letting it boil over. She focuses instead on making her apartment the coziest, homiest place she possibly can, on showering Jason with all of the maternal adoration and pride he'd been missing out on, and letting him know he could show up on her doorstep at three in the morning without notice and she'd welcome him inside with open arms and a mug of hot tea. 

- I Guess You're Just What I Needed

Thalia had made a game out of collecting the recyclables strewn over the floor, which just meant that she'd cheer him on and make a huge celebratory fuss when he found something plastic. The glass and aluminum were 'big-kid stuff', so she didn't have to worry about him hurting himself on sharp edges or hard surfaces; she diverted his desire to be just like her by pretending his contributions were heavier, so he could feel like he was helping. 

She'd gather them all up in a little red wagon and take Jason to the convenience store down the street to exchange their loot for deposits. His job had been putting the plastic in the machine, one at a time, while she held him up so he could reach. They'd put the change in a coffee can, already rattling with whatever bills and coins she'd found in the mess of the apartment, and use it to re-load the wagon with as much prepackaged, shelf-stable food as it would get them. 

Sometimes, they'd get someone nice behind the counter who asked where their parents were and went thin-lipped when she tried to deflect it by lying that their mother had a migraine, and they'd end up with twice as much food as they had money for. Those trips always made Thalia more nervous, and she'd tended to startle every time the doorbell rang for at least a week afterwards. 

Back then, the routine felt normal, even pleasant; he learned quickly to associate it with a full belly and a feeling of safety. Like so many of his scars, he hadn't realized how deep it was until he related the story in the Jackson-Blofis kitchen, Sally's eyes filling with tears as she took his hand and squeezed until it hurt.

-We Should Have Each Other With Cream, chapter 11

See also my "thundersibs" tag.

[knuffled]

just practice - chapter ten

chapter ten is here, yay! hope you all enjoy it! somewhat important update in the notes at the end of the chapter on ao3 for those interested. thanks in advance!

ao3 link here

Holding the premier of the school play on the Wednesday before Thanksgiving was a bold move in Annabeth’s opinion, so it was surprising that the school’s parking lot was nearly filled, although that almost certainly had to do with the fact that Piper was playing Viola in the school’s production of Twelfth Night. Her performances in the school plays had turned into something of local legend after all. It had all started when she landed the role of Ophelia as a freshman, a feat in and of itself, but it was the way that she had sent audiences home in tears each night of the production that had catapulted her to near mythic status among the student body. It had gotten to the point where even many members of the football team could be found patiently waiting in line to watch a Shakespearean play.

Ever prepared, Annabeth had come fairly early to help secure seats for herself and the rest of her friends. The moment the doors opened, she made a beeline for the rows close to the stage and found some center seats, but when the auditorium began to fill its seats quicker than she anticipated and none of her friends had yet to arrive, she was forced to concede all of the seats she’d reserved except for two, one on either side of her. As more and more of the seats began to get filled, She came close to sending a text in the group chat as her sense of worry grew. Fortunately, that was when Jason showed up, a grateful smile on his face as he sank into the seat next to her. He took off his jacket, draping it on the seatback, and rubbed at the dark bags beneath his eyes.

“You look like a panda,” Annabeth said, smirking.

Jason ran his fingers through his hair and scowled. “Very funny. I’ve been neck deep in planning for the stupid after-party, and it has been a total nightmare.”

“So I take it that working with Drew Tanaka isn’t a good time then?”

Jason rolled his eyes and said, “There’s just something about event planning that turns her into a demon. At one point, I legitimately thought she was going to skin me alive.”

“Very dramatic,” Annabeth teased, squeezing his shoulder. “At least the worst is over now.”

“I sure hope so,” Jason muttered. “Otherwise, I might not live to see another day.”

Annabeth was about to say something when her phone vibrated in her pocket. She fished it out and looked at the caller ID, which immediately sent a frisson of irritation running through her. That was probably the seventeenth time this random number had called her over the past two weeks. She didn’t recognize the number at all, but whoever it was happened to be incredibly persistent about calling her.

“That number again?” Jason asked.

Annabeth sighed and nodded. “It’s starting to get really fucking annoying.”

“You should just block ‘em and save yourself the trouble,” Jason said, shrugging.

“Yeah, you’re right,” Annabeth said, sighing. “I’ll do it after the show.”

Jason nodded and pulled out his phone to shoot some texts, presumably to the group organizing the after-party. Annabeth spent her time scrolling mindlessly through Twitter, waiting for Percy to show up, but he was still missing two minutes before the show was due to begin. It was only once the lights began to dim that Annabeth heard the familiar cadence of his footsteps behind her. Percy squeezed past the people who were already seated, murmuring apologies as he passed by, before he sank into the seat beside her. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat and winced as he probed his upper back muscles.

Annabeth looked at him with concern and said, “Are you okay?”

“I’ve been better,” Percy said, grimacing.

“I swear your coach has been extending practices by an hour every month now since the start of the school year.”

Percy huffed a laugh. “You’re probably right. I swear, he’s trying to kill me. Literally every part of my body hurts right now.”

Annabeth frowned in the dark. In all his years on the team, she had never heard Percy complain about his body hurting after practices. His coach must have been pushing him even harder over this past month than normal. She wasn’t sure how to feel about that.

She leaned in to him to whisper to him and found her face heating up at the distracting scent of body wash and chlorine clinging to his skin, evidence of the post-practice shower he must have taken before coming here.

It took her a moment to collect her thoughts and mumble, “If you feel that bad, you should have just gone home. Piper would understand.”

“I’m not missing the premier just because I’m a little sore,” Percy said, shaking his head.

Annabeth paused before giving him a tentative nod and turning back to the stage, but she still felt lingering traces of embarrassment. That scent was beyond familiar to her and it had been for years, so she was troubled by how she had suddenly become so conscious of it.

Fortunately, the start of the play gave her a way to stop treading down that creepy train of thought. She had read Twelfth Night once during middle school, but it hadn’t made much of an impression on her. Seeing it performed now, the play was a lot better than she had remembered, but then again Piper had always insisted that there was a huge difference between reading a play versus seeing one live. For a high school play, Annabeth couldn’t help being impressed by the level of care and effort that had gone into every element of the production, from the set design to the lighting and wardrobe. Of course, the actors were great as well, but Piper stole the show as Annabeth had expected.

It took her a while to realize that Percy was mouthing lines beside her, nearly verbatim. At first, she’d thought she was hearing things, but when she stole a sidelong glance at Percy, she noticed that he was leaning forward in his seat, staring intently at the stage and whispering the lines to himself.

“But, indeed, words are very rascals, since bonds disgraced them,” Percy mouthed.

On stage, Piper said, “Thy reason, man?”

Percy whispered, "Troth, sir, I can yield you none without words, and words are grown so false, I am loathe to prove reason with them.”

Annabeth shook her head in amazement before knocking elbows with him to get his attention. He froze in his seat, face turning a gentle shade of vermilion in response to being caught, before turning to face her.

“You know all the lines?” Annabeth whispered incredulously.

Percy ducked his chin. “Not all of them, just the scenes where Piper has lines. Must have helped her rehearse them like a hundred times.”

“And let me guess, she didn’t ask for your help: you volunteered,” she said, sighing.

Annabeth found herself shaking her head again when he rubbed the back in his neck and looked away with a sheepish smile. It was amazing that Percy had managed to memorize all those lines, but it was even more impressive that he had done so while juggling all his other responsibilities. Her heart welled up inside her chest looking at him while he tried to not-so-subtly divert her attention back to the play, still blushing profusely, as if he didn’t realize he was more amazing in her eyes than anything Shakespeare could’ve ever written.

Before she knew it, the play was over, and Annabeth found herself waiting backstage with her friends for Piper to finish changing into her normal clothes. Leo and Frank spoke quietly to one another while Hazel was noodling with her phone. Jason drummed his fingers against his pants and rocked on his heels and kept looking down the hallway to the changing rooms with poorly suppressed excitement, practically embodying the spirit of a golden retriever. Percy stood beside her, leaning against a wall with his eyes closed, close enough for their elbows to touch.

When Piper showed up with an exhausted smile on her face, Jason rushed in and pulled her into a fierce hug.

“You were amazing,” he said.

Piper laughed tiredly and whispered, “Thanks, Jace.”

Jason stepped away suddenly and rubbed the back of his neck, suddenly embarrassed by such a public display of affection. Piper rolled her eyes and poked him with her elbow before turning to address the rest of them.

“Thank you all for coming tonight. I really appreciate it.”

“Jason is right,” Frank said. “You were really great out there tonight.”

Everyone chimed in with words of agreement, which flustered Piper a little, much to Annabeth’s delight. Piper rarely ever got flustered except when she got bombarded by compliments that she had rightfully earned. Percy was the only one who didn’t say anything, but he watched the entire scene with a soft smile on his face. Once she’d given everyone else a hug, Piper met Percy’s eyes, her eyes shining with gratitude, and a wordless understanding passed between them.

“So, after-party everyone?” Jason asked.

Piper leaned against him and nodded tiredly. “I could certainly use a drink right now.”

Jason smiled before turning to the group and saying, “It’s at Drew’s place. I texted the address to our group chat in case anyone didn’t remember it.”

With that, they dispersed and made their way to the parking lot. It was dark outside even though it wasn’t all that late, but it was nothing unexpected considering December was on its way. Annabeth buried her hands in the front pocket of her sweatshirt, but she still couldn’t help shivering as the wind howled past them.

Percy smoothed his wind-tousled hair with a scowl before he gave her a sidelong glance. “So I’m guessing your parents didn’t change their mind about the after-party then?”

Annabeth nodded. “They are still insisting that I spend some quality ‘family time’ with them for Thanksgiving. Whatever the fuck that means.”

“Maybe it’s a good sign,” Percy said.

Annabeth snorted and said, “Knowing Helen, I highly doubt that. It’s probably just going to be a miserable meal with passive aggressive comments for dessert.”

Percy stopped and gave her forearm a gentle squeeze, forcing her to meet his eyes, which shone with concern.

“If it gets bad and you ever need to get out of the house, give me a call, okay?”

Annabeth tried for a laugh, but it sounded hollow even to her ears. “Come on, Jackson. You don’t think I can survive one measly dinner?”

“I know you can,” Percy said, firmly but not unkindly. “But there’s a big difference between surviving something and not having to suffer because of it.”

She didn’t really know how to respond to that, so she just remained silent. Percy looked at her and waited for a short while before he sighed and dropped her arm. Annabeth could tell by the downturn of his lips and the furrow of his brow that he still wasn’t entirely convinced, but she didn’t plan on changing her mind. No matter what happened at tonight’s dinner, she was determined not to call Percy. A nameless fear had begun to take root inside her. She couldn’t say what it was, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that something terrible would happen if she continued to rely on Percy as heavily as she had. Maybe she was completely off-base or maybe she was simply imagining the whole thing. And yet it grated on her like an itch she couldn't scratch, telling her, compelling her to at least do something.

Percy scuffed his converses against his ankle and nodded again. “Well, I guess I'll see you when you come over on Friday then?”

Annabeth nodded and watched him leave before she made her way back to her car. She didn’t remember much of the drive back home. The spam caller called again at some point, but apart from that the only thing that stuck out was how the pit in the center of her stomach grew the closer she got to her house. When she wasn't eating outside the house, Annabeth usually holed herself in her bedroom until the rest of the family finished dinner before she went downstairs to microwave the leftovers and bring them back upstairs with her. Tonight, unfortunately she had no such avenue of escape.

Once she parked in the driveway, Annabeth continued to sit there in the dark, her hands wrapped around the steering wheel so tightly the cheap stitching on the faux leather dug into her palms. She couldn’t help thinking at that moment that silence wore many different faces. When she was with Percy, silence was companionable and radiated a warmth that felt like trust. When she went for a run, silence was open and peaceful, almost like a physical space where she could leave reality behind for a short while. When she watched Percy give his mother a hug before he left the house, silence was wistful and forlorn, wrapping around her heart like tendrils of smoke. But now, as she sat in the car outside her own house, silence was unforgiving and violent, like a shark sensing blood in the water, waiting for her to tear herself to shreds.

But eventually, Annabeth screwed her eyes shut and forced herself to take a deep breath before she finally made her way inside. She slipped past the door and quietly took her shoes off before heading to the dining room. The rest of her family was already seated and had started eating.

“Ah, Annabeth, we weren’t sure if you would make it, so we got started a little early,” Helen said, voice dripping with faux sincerity.

Annabeth pursed her lips and nodded sharply before she pulled out a chair for herself and sat down. She didn’t put much on her plate — barely enough mashed potatoes to make a mound drizzled with gravy, a small piece of grilled chicken, and some buttered vegetables — and tried to finish her food as quickly as she could so she could retreat to her room.

Of course, it didn’t take long for Helen to take issue with that. “Someone certainly seems to be in a rush today.”

Annabeth looked up from her plate and tried to quell the fire in her eyes, but it was difficult when Helen looked at her with that smile of hers like poisoned honey, while the coldness in her eyes communicated her utter and absolute disdain for Annabeth in a way words never could. Briefly, she looked to her father to see if he might intervene, but like always, she was disappointed. He was staring absentmindedly at the wall behind her, probably thinking about his research.

"I'm just really tired," Annabeth lied.

"And yet you had just enough energy to go to your friend's play," Helen said.

"It's almost like human beings have less energy over the course of a day."

She had tried very hard to keep the sarcasm out of her voice, but it didn't seem to matter judging by the tick of Helen's jaw. Annabeth couldn't help deriving a twisted sense of pleasure at the momentary collapse in Helen's composure.

Helen sighed with mock affectation. "Children your age are so disrespectful these days."

Annabeth shrugged nonchalantly. "Must be because we’re on our phones all the time."

A gleam passed in Helen's eyes. "Or maybe it's because you associate with the wrong kinds of people."

Annabeth furrowed her brow and deliberately set her fork aside. "And what is that supposed to mean?"

Helen raised her wineglass and took a sip before she spoke, and when she did her tone was feather-light. "Oh, it's nothing. As your mother, I'm just concerned when a girl your age spends all her time unsupervised, doing lord knows what, with someone like that Jackson boy."

Annabeth balled her hands into fists. “‘Someone like him’? You don’t even know him.”

Helen looked at her imperiously over the rim of her wine glass. “I don’t need to know him to know that he’s of the wrong sort.”

It took Annabeth a second to decipher what Helen had meant, but once she did the pit in her stomach burned with hellfire.

Annabeth barked a harsh laugh and crossed her arms over her chest. “So he’s the ‘wrong sort’ just because he isn’t white?”

“That wasn’t what I said,” Helen said mildly.

“No, but it's what you meant.”

For the first time that night, her father spoke, voice low yet firm.

“Annabeth,” he warned.

Annabeth bit her tongue and wrestled with the urge to scream. At that moment, her phone vibrated again in her pocket, so Annabeth decided to run with it. Anything to give her an excuse to leave.

Her chair emitted an unholy screech as she stood up. “I have to take an important call.”

Annabeth didn’t wait for Helen’s permission and left the dining room quickly, only just noticing the irritation in her eyes. She went upstairs to her bedroom and slammed the door behind her before pulling her phone out of her pocket.

When she looked at the caller ID and noticed it was that same spam number again, Annabeth clenched her jaw and made to reject the call before an idea occurred to her. If she couldn’t show any emotion around her family, well then this stubborn asshole who clearly couldn’t tell she wasn’t going to answer the phone would give her a good opportunity to vent.

“Hello?” Annabeth snapped, answering the phone.

The voice on the other end of the line sounded male. “Oh, um, hello. Am I speaking with Ms. Annabeth Chase?”

“Yes,” Annabeth spat. “And who are you?”

There was a pause — the speaker was clearly taken aback by Annabeth’s open hostility, but it didn’t take long for them to recover.

“I apologize if this is a bad time, but my name is Rick Waters. I’m the coach of the women’s cross country team here at the University of California, Berkeley. I just wanted to reach out to you regarding the offer of admission we sent you a month or so ago.”

A panicked flurry of thoughts blew through Annabeth's mind. “Oh, sorry, I thought you were a telemarketer. Did you say that you sent me an offer of admission a month ago?”

“Yes, we sent a letter in early October to be precise.”

“I never got anything in the mail,” Annabeth said, frowning.

“Oh, well I suppose that certainly explains things. Perhaps there was a mistake made somewhere along the way, but no harm done. I could inform you of our offer over the phone now, if you'd like."

Annabeth pressed a hand to her forehead and shut her eyes. "Um, yes, please do."

"Well, we've been scouting all over the country for new runners for the incoming freshman class, and we were very interested in you. You are clearly a very talented distance runner, and I think you would be a wonderful asset and a great fit with our team here at Cal. All our facilities are state-of-the-art, and we have some former Olympians on our coaching staff in addition to a team of dietitians, physical therapists, and psychologists. I’ll pause here if you have any questions.”

“No, not at the moment, sorry. I’m just a little overwhelmed,” Annabeth said, mind reeling.

“I understand,” he said. “The reason I have been trying so hard to reach you, though, is because we need to know your decision before the 30th, which is in four days.”

Only four days? How the fuck was she supposed to write all those supplementary essays in only four days? It had taken her months to just finish the essays for the Common App.

“What is the process if I decide to commit to Berkeley?” Annabeth asked. “Like, am I required to send an application and include essays?”

“No, we wouldn’t need anything supplementary. We do, however, require a transcript, but we’ve already been in contact with your high school regarding that, and it was more than satisfactory. In fact, we were highly impressed with your academic performance.”

“Oh, um, thank you,” Annabeth said, feeling relieved.

“Of course,” the coach said. “One final thing I wanted to mention is that we would be willing to offer you a fairly sizable athletic scholarship should you decide to attend in the fall. It would cover a majority of your tuition and room and board fees.”

Annabeth leaned against her door and sank down to the floor, smiling so widely it hurt. The one fear she had had was how she would afford going to Berkeley, so she was beyond relieved that they were willing to give her a scholarship. For once in her life, it seemed that all her hard work had actually amounted to something. For once, her accomplishments actually mattered.

“Thank you so much,” Annabeth said quietly.

“Take some time to think about it, but please do get back to us by the 30th so that we can secure your admission. To be perfectly honest, the deadline for athletic recruitment ended in October, but I’ve been adamant with the Admissions Office that you were special and that the deadline be extended on your behalf.”

Annabeth's throat constricted and her heart squeezed in her chest. “I really don't know what to say. Just thank you so much. I really do appreciate it. I’ll be sure to get back to you by the 30th.”

“Wonderful,” he said. “I look forward to hearing from you.”

With that, the phone call ended, and Annabeth knocked the back of her head against the door and stared up at the ceiling, not sure whether to cry or laugh. As the coach had said, recruitment was usually finished by October, so the fact that she hadn’t received any offers from schools had been depressing. She had assured herself that her application was strong enough on its own to brave the conventional admissions process, but this was an immense weight off her shoulders. Of course, that meant that all those hours she’d spent on writing her stupid Common App essay had been pretty much useless, but she couldn’t bring herself to care.

The only thing that soured her mood was the knowledge that she still needed to go back downstairs to deal with her step-mother now that the call was over. Annabeth sat there and looked up at her popcorn ceiling, trying to muster the strength to get up, but it still took her the better part of ten minutes before she finally rose to her feet and closed the door behind her.

:::

Friday at the Jackson household was often a rambunctious affair, but it was quieter than normal when Annabeth came to visit the day after Thanksgiving. But that was largely due to the fact that Paul happened to be away at a teacher’s conference, Estelle at a playdate at a friend’s house, and Sally was upstairs, working on her writing, which left Annabeth alone with Percy downstairs.

He had been the one to suggest that they bake something together, much to her relief. She had wanted to do something where she could turn her brain off, and there was just something about baking in particular that tended to calm her down. As Annabeth sat on the countertop, swinging her legs, and watched Percy riffle through the pantry in search of ingredients, it occurred to her that that was probably why he’d suggested the activity to begin with. The domesticity of Percy humming a tuneless melody under his breath while moving about the kitchen in his pajamas made warmth blossom in her chest.

"Are you gonna help out or are you just continue checking me out, Chase?" Percy asked, looking inside a cupboard for vanilla extract.

Annabeth felt heat rush to her face as she hopped off the counter. She tried to keep her tone light and asked, "What am I not allowed to check out my fake-boyfriend?"

Percy looked at her over his shoulder and raised an eyebrow. "Then surely you wouldn't mind if I were to check out my fake-girlfriend then."

Annabeth's heart fluttered in her chest. "It almost sounds like you're asking for permission."

It was hard to tell if the look in Percy’s eyes was teasing or challenging. "And if I am?"

Her throat had suddenly become completely dry. She wasn't sure if the move here was to say yes and double down or if she should play it off and change the topic.

She settled for the former and said, "And what would you do if I said yes?"

Percy's eyes darkened and his eyes darted to her lips for an instant before he cleared his throat conspicuously and turned away. “Good job. That should work when you get a real boyfriend.”

With that, the tension in the room dissipated into thin air, leaving Annabeth with a vague sense of dissatisfaction, although she couldn’t explain where it came from. Annabeth tried her best to put the interaction behind her and started helping Percy find the remaining ingredients, but she found her eyes wandering towards him without her permission. It was definitely because of the previous exchange, Annabeth reasoned, that she suddenly began paying attention to the way his back muscles strained against the fabric of his thin t-shirt when he reached up to get some nutmeg or the hard line of his jaw when she caught a glimpse of his profile as he turned away.

Her face began to heat up again, but this time it was because she was actually guilty of the crime she'd been accused of. She shook her head in an effort to dispel those thoughts, but she couldn't erase the images taking center stage in her mind's eye.

This was really fucking weird. She'd seen Percy practically every day for the last ten years, and his body had never distracted her like this, so it felt creepy and wrong. Yet, her eyes continued to wander towards him whenever she wasn’t vigilant, much to her embarrassment, as they started making the cookies.

They were nearly ready to put the chocolate chip cookie batter into the oven when Percy stopped and suddenly groaned.

"What?" she asked.

"I forgot the blue food coloring," he grumbled. "Mom and I ran out last time we made cookies."

Annabeth knew better than to ask him if it was really that important for the cookies to be blue, so she nodded and said, "Should we go to the grocery store?"

"Yeah, just let me get changed," Percy said, leaving the kitchen.

Sally made her way down the stairs and smiled as Percy went past her. She stepped into the kitchen and surveyed it for a moment before looking to her with a mischievous glint in her eye.

"Well, at least you both don't make nearly as big a mess as you used to."

"Sorry," Annabeth said, her face heating up.

"Relax, dear," Sally said, laughing. "I'm just pulling your leg."

Annabeth managed a smile and said, "How was your book tour?"

Sally leaned against the counter-top and sighed. "Exhausting, but overall, pretty good. Each time I have to do one of them, they just keep adding more and more cities. I know that it's a sign my books are reaching a wider audience, but it still wears out an old woman like me."

"You're not old at all, Sally," Annabeth said genuinely.

A warm smile crossed Sally's face. "You're sweet, dear. How have things been with you?"

Percy came downstairs, now that he'd changed, and jangled his car keys. "Ready to go?"

Annabeth looked to Sally and felt a surge of gratitude when Sally told Percy, "You go on ahead. Annabeth and I are going to have some girl time."

Percy looked between the two of them for a moment before he shrugged and left the kitchen. Annabeth waited until she heard the sound of the garage door closing before she spoke again.

"How did you know?" Annabeth asked.

"Hmm, know what?" Sally asked.

"Know that I wanted to talk to you.”

"I've known you since you were seven, dear," Sally said, giving her a significant look.

Annabeth couldn't help the fact that that brought a smile to her face. "Percy told me that he got recruited by USC."

"Mhmm."

“I’m happy for him and everything, but- I don’t know. It’s just that college actually feels real now and not like something imaginary in the far off future,” Annabeth said, twirling a strand of hair around her finger.

"It’s a big change," Sally admitted. "But I'm sure you both can handle it when the time comes."

"I know,” Annabeth said. “I’m just worried about being apart from Percy and stuff.”

"Well, if you’re that worried, what if you found a college close by LA?" Sally asked.

Annabeth shook her head. "A recruiter from Berkeley reached out to me Wednesday night about joining the cross country team there. He said the university would even be willing to give me a pretty big scholarship, so I'm thinking of accepting."

"Annabeth, that's fantastic," Sally beamed. "Your parents must be so proud of you."

"They just asked how I was going to pay for it," Annabeth said, smiling thinly.

Sally's eyes softened and she pulled her into a warm hug. Annabeth didn't expect a lump to form in her throat, but it didn't surprise her when it happened. She knew from prior experience that Sally Jackson's hugs did tend to have that sort of effect.

"Well, for what it's worth, I'm so incredibly proud of you and everything you’ve accomplished," Sally said. "Lord knows how hard you've worked these past few years."

"Thank you," Annabeth said, trying not to let her voice quiver.

Sally pulled away and framed Annabeth's face in her hands, smiling softly. "You've grown into such a wonderful young woman. It’s almost hard to believe that bossy little seven year old would grow up like this."

Annabeth wiped at her nose as a watery laugh escaped her. "Well, one thing hasn't changed: I'm still pretty bossy."

"Well, no one's perfect, after all," Sally said, a twinkle in her eye. "I really don’t think you have anything to worry about, dear. Berkeley and LA are in the same state."

"It's a five hour and forty-two minute drive," Annabeth said. "I, um, checked on Google Maps."

"That’s not that bad," Sally said. “You and Percy can deal with that.”

Annabeth shifted on her heels. "No, it's not that. I know we'll be okay, but I'm just worried it'll change things."

"Well, I know that the way you two feel about each other won't change and that's the most important thing," Sally said firmly.

"Of course, things will be different, but that doesn't mean it has to get worse. This is just another stage you have to pass through in your life, just like Percy does. But despite all that change, you will still be Annabeth and Percy will still be Percy, and that is enough for me to believe you both will be fine."

Annabeth considered her words before nodding. "I still haven't told him."

"He'll be happy to hear it."

"I know he will," Annabeth said. "I just want to be less of a wreck when I tell him. I don't want him to worry."

Sally smiled and said, "That boy will worry about you regardless of what you do."

"He shouldn't have to though," Annabeth said desperately. I’m not worth it.

"No, perhaps he shouldn't," Sally admitted. "But he chooses to anyways, and who are we to say he's wrong for it."

There was a pause before Annabeth quietly said, "Sometimes, it feels like he loves so hard, so honestly, so naturally that it's impossible for me to catch up."

"That's just the way he is," Sally said, a sad smile on her face. "His name means 'To Destroy', but there's no one more protective, more loving than my boy. Been that way all his life, even when he shouldn't have had to. Because of that, I’m afraid that I've hurt him without knowing, hurt him in ways that can't be fixed."

"You mean with Gabe?" Annabeth asked.

Sally's eyes turned hard. "He started trying to protect me from him ever since he was six and I don’t think he has ever stopped. Even now, I can see he still doesn't completely feel comfortable around Paul, but he bears it for my sake. He has always been willing to cause himself pain if it means alleviating someone else’s suffering. Sometimes, I worry that he feels the need to be responsible for how other people feel.”

Sally’s words immediately made Annabeth think about her conversation with Kara and how she had said something similar:

I just remember being so fucking stunned. Like, your girlfriend is telling you she’s breaking up with you after cheating on you, and your response is to go be someone else’s fucking therapist?

Annabeth balled her hands into fists and tried to swallow the lump in her throat. She wasn’t sure what to say. She had never been good with words or emotions, but she wasn’t even sure if this was something that could be fixed with just words. If she were like Percy, maybe she could think of the right combination of words to say in order to make this better, but she wasn’t.

She hated this. All her life, Annabeth had been praised for being intelligent. Most of her identity was built around that fact. Whenever her life went to shit, the one thing she could count on was the fact that she was smart: it was the one thing that made her feel like she was worth anything. But lately, Annabeth couldn’t help questioning if she’d built her entire sense of self around a lie. She couldn’t recall the last time she’d been able to use her intelligence to solve a problem, or at least not any problem that mattered. It seemed pointless to have all this purported intelligence when life only sent her problems that couldn’t be solved just by thinking really hard.

Sally must have sensed Annabeth’s frustration because she put her hand on Annabeth’s shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze. Although she felt a bit better, it did nothing to dispel the underlying sensation of weight, like someone was sitting on her chest.

The garage door opened and Percy popped into the kitchen with an exuberant smile, holding a bottle of blue food coloring in his hand.

“Managed to get the last one!” he beamed before his smile fell and he looked between the two of them. “What happened here?”

Sally gave Annabeth’s shoulder another squeeze before making her way to the staircase. “Oh, nothing. Just girl stuff.”

Percy nodded but clearly looked unconvinced. Once Sally was gone, he turned to her with a question in his eyes.

“Girl stuff?” he asked.

Annabeth found herself settling for a half-truth yet again. It seemed like that was all she did these days when she spoke to Percy.

“A recruiter contacted me from Berkeley,” she said, looking at her feet. “They’re giving me a big scholarship if I go there to join the cross country team.”

Percy blinked before breaking into a smile and rushing to her with open arms. “Holy shit, Annabeth, that’s insane! I’m so happy for you!”

Annabeth returned his hug and smiled into his shoulder — Sally had been so spot on about his reaction that, despite her heavy mood, it was kind of hilarious.

“Thanks.”

Percy looked at her with a searching gaze. “Then why do we seem so sad?”

Annabeth rolled her eyes. “I’m not sad. I was just getting emotional with your mom about how much I’ve matured.”

“Hmm, you don’t look all that mature to me,” Percy said, appraising her.

“Asshole,” Annabeth grumbled. “I don’t seem to recall that being your opinion back when you were trying to get permission to check me out.”

Percy’s face flushed at the accusation, and his voice jumped an octave as he stammered, “T-That was to help you practice.”

“Yeah, sure,” Annabeth drawled. “Very convincing.”

“Now who’s being an asshole?”

“Couldn’t be me,” Annabeth said lightly.

“Of course not,” Percy said, rolling his eyes. “Now should we start making these cookies or not? I’m starving.”

Annabeth followed him to the batter and watched as he drenched it in blue food coloring, tongue poking out the corner of his mouth, and found herself desperately wishing they had more time. There was a delicate, almost exquisite pain that came with the awareness that this couldn’t last, but watching Percy roll misshapen balls of blue cookie dough made it easier for her to ignore it. At least for a while.

[margridarnauds]

Scattered Thoughts on Treason: The Musical

[warning for some critical discussion]

The Cold Hard Ground: 

First song I listened to. 

God, we’re getting DARK. This is seriously a mix between a villain song and a hero song, and I’m HERE for it. 

This is the one I’m possibly most interested in, because it’s really making me wonder how they’re going to portray the plotters: Are we going to be seeing them as fanatics, or as heroes, or somewhere in-between? In this song, it looks like Catesby is a man broken by grief who turned to fanatical religion as a way of coping with his own suicidal tendencies. 

“So TAKEEEEE MEEEEEEEEEEE. You won’t BREEEEEAAAAAK meeee, it’s too late to SAAAAAAAAVVVVEEEE MEEEEEE.” 

GOD those final notes are going HARD. 

At first, I thought that it was rather scattered, musically wise, but the more I listen to it, the more I think it’s brilliant because the music comes together by the end, as Catesby seems to calcify in his convictions. 

I’ll be really curious to see how anyone but Hadley serves this, but a solid 80% of this song, at the moment, is built on his impressive performance. I’ll be really curious in knowing how the livestreams went. 

Take Things To Our Own Hands: 

Honestly, my favorite song on the album, probably one of them that I can best visualize on stage. 

WE NEED TO THINK OF A WAAAAAY TO BRING THE WHOLE SHIP DOWN.

Favorite vocal moment: When all the conspirators’ voices join one another, and then the moment at the end where it sounds almost like a church’s choir. 

I absolutely LOVE the slick folkish feel to this, paired with the driven pace, it’s like if “The Story Told” from Monte Cristo decided to go folk, I love it. It really has a feel that I don’t see many musicals going for (Hadestown being the closest, though it goes in a jazzier style than this) , and that’s something really in its favor. If the rest of the songs follow this level of quality and tone, this musical is going to be a really, really fun ride.  

Also, it’s very interesting in terms of how, even though this is the conspirators’ “Pump Me Up” song, there’s this very DARK overtone to it, which makes sense given what they’re proposing. Their voices go increasingly hard, almost into a staccato, and I wonder how much of that is diction VS them showing how hardened and increasingly radicalized the conspirators are becoming. 

That being said: “I once had influenza but now that’s all gone when things turned sour”?????????????????? I’m trying desperately to wrap my head around this lyric, it sticks out like a sore thumb.

The lyrics in this particular song are, admittedly, its weakest point: They tend to be very, very repetitive, but, in all honesty, it doesn’t really bother me - It works with that mood of the conspirators becoming radicalized. 

I know that Hadley tends to get most of the kudos for this song, but the other conspirators (Waylon Jacobs, Oliver Savile and Emmanuel Kojo) deserve MASSIVE kudos for their performances, I’m seriously going to be looking into all of them after this. 

The Day Elizabeth Died 

I started off not really caring for this song, but I’ve really warmed to it. 

I’m really curious about who the main singer in this song is supposed to be, because I feel like that will really change how I feel about the lyrics specifying that she had “An inch of makeup on her face”. If we’re supposed to view this from the perspective of a devoutly religious 17th century Catholic woman, I can understand it more than a Protestant woman, given that it really, really works with some misogynistic stereotypes about Elizabeth. 

So, the singer’s apparently Anne Vaux, which makes sense. Okay, I’ll give them this one. A little period-accurate internalized misogyny can be good for the soul. 

I LOVE Rebecca La Chance’s voice. It’s so wonderfully clear and strong, delicate, but with steel beneath it. 

There’s something almost....wistful, melancholy, and isolated about this song? It strikes a very odd balance between being sympathetic to Elizabeth (some say she died of a broken heart) while condemning her reign. 

ALSO. BEST VOCAL MOMENT ON THE ENTIRE ALBUM. “We mourned for her, she was our queen, and for 45 years, she had reigned supreme.” And then the conspirators coming on with “WE DID NOT MOOOOOURRRRN FOR HER. SHEWASOURCAPTOR.” I could, legitimately, listen to that bit alone on repeat, I’m actually obsessed with it. That odd, conflicted feeling between Elizabeth having been Queen for longer than most of England had been alive, providing a sense of stability, while also the very real persecution that English Catholics were under. This is the kind of nuance I really want to see the musical carry forward. 

Blind Faith

I don’t really know what to say except that Martha Percy’s love for Thomas Percy is juxtaposed with Thomas Percy’s feelings for Catesby. 

Literally. 

That’s the song. 

If this musical ever develops a fandom, there are going to be a hundred Catesby/Thomas fics, with James/Thomas being the darkhorse fic. 

It’s hard to judge this one, simply because it’s much more conventional love song - It sounds similar to, for example, “That Would Be Enough”, if Alexander Hamiltpn decided to blow up George III instead of join the American Revolution. It’s a TWIST on the conventional love song, but it still follows similar beats. 

But I DO love how their voices go together, the song really starts to shine when that happens. 

That last “This path was MINE to choose, he has nothing to prove”, probably is the best vocal moment. 

Overall, I don’t have MANY thoughts on this song in comparison to the others, but I can also see myself warming up to it over time. 

The Promise

“His face is quite nice” It’s VERY obvious they’re going for a queer comic relief interpretation of James, which I honestly have mixed feelings about given that he is, clearly, going to be the one that our protagonists are trying to get rid of. There’s.....something about that, a bunch of presumably straight protagonists ganging up to kill a stereotypically portrayed gay man. I know that historically, James WAS, but.....I still don’t like how stereotypical they played this one. Someone could point to Herod from JCS but, in all fairness, Herod was written in the 1970s (and, tbh, given that the central relationship in the musical is Jesus and Judas, you could argue that the entire musical is very, very homoerotic, which makes it less glaring.) This is...well, I’ll have to see how the musical deals with it. I’m willing to give it a fair shake, but they might have set themselves up for danger here. 

But Daniel Boys is, admittedly, serving this song on a silver platter. 

Really, really going into the Spoiled Child Route here. 

If it sounds like I’m disappointed with this song compared to the others, it’s because......yeah, I kind of am. Musically, it’s fine and a little catchy, lyrically, it’s fine, but that nuance I’d been seeing in the other songs goes out the window. James isn’t my favorite historical figure of all time (Bro basically set up the English Civil War), but there still HAD to be a better way to do him justice than this. 

It doesn’t hurt that, unlike the other songs, which were demonstrably TREASON, this one is very much.....a JCS/Hamilton rip-off. Like, it’s very, very blatant. 

Love the rising strings when Percy tells him that Elizabeth is dying, that sense of tension - It does remind me a little of something I heard in The Pirate Queen, but you know what? I’ll give it to them. 

Lowkey obsessed with Oliver Saville’s eyebrow raise when he says “You could save England.” 

The problem is that they’re leaning so hard into the comic route that, when James says that he’ll be a fair king, it really, really makes the Catholic nobility sound dumb as Hell to listen to him. Like “Yes, man who routinely, gleefully sings about cutting off people’s heads, I’ll listen to you!” I know they’re desperate but....come on. 

But also. THAT HIGH NOTE. Daniel Boys really put 110% in there. 

Overall, my takeaway is that this musical could either do very, very well or very, very badly, depending on how they play it. It’s hard to judge because the public only has access to 5 tracks (except for the lucky ducks who bought tickets to the stream, where they got access to 10) - It’s hard to judge a musical based off of 5 tracks, and a musical about the Gunpowder Plot with, say, a love song called “Blind Faith” almost sounds like something out of a parody, something destined to be one of those flops that go down in history. BUT, that being said, the musical has some very strong vocal performances and some really good music, when it keeps to its own mood and style instead of trying to go off of what other, more successful musicals have done. There’s some real, real promise in this musical, and I’ll be both anxious and excited to see how it all turns out (and if they ever offer a full purchase for the live recording......I’d honestly probably buy it.) It was a shame I found out about it so late in the game, because I’d have totally bought tickets to the stream if I had known earlier. 

[shadowfae]

1- Not much tbh, just what you've posted, and 2- To be honest I quite like your long answers. It can definitely wait though, you should get some sleep.

Is your warpriest link a constant thing? Does it ever fade into the background? I'm contemplating forming a second link, something happier than my copinglink, and I'm not sure how to tell when to tell when the line of a link vs a persona is crossed when not worn out of necessity.

And the original ask so I have it on hand. I did take a look at your original context, and if you're cool with it, I'll edit this post with a link for those who may find this is a useful answer and need that on hand. Otherwise, it'll stay a mystery.

But yes, it seems like my Sabe experiences would be a useful thing to talk about here. And in order to do that, I need to go over four things: who and what Sabe is, why he exists the way that he does, what that does for me, and lastly what I think he is in terms of terminology and why.

To start, here is his toyhou.se profile, if you want to read more about his actual story and thoughts and whatnot. But I doubt you'll have the necessary context for that, so let me go into it. RuneScape (RS) is one of the oldest MMORPGs in existence. WoW might be older but I doubt it. Basically it's a medieval magic fantasy that's very long running and you the player end up the World Guardian, aka the guy that stops the gods (who are very powerful folks who just don't die of natural causes and typically stand for some philosophy) from blowing the world up because Guthix, the dead god of balance, asked you to. Well, he voluntold you. And that makes you a major chess piece, Elder Gods get involved, it's a big mess.

But before all that happened, back in 2006 when I was introduced to the game and very shitty at it, well. I liked the lore insofar that I've always liked the lore, it was interesting and I liked thinking about it. I didn't have membership and I sucked at playing so I just read the wiki and the God Letters over and over and sometimes the Postbag from the Hedge. Alongside my two friends, we played at being children of the then-triad of main gods: Saradomin, Guthix, and Zamorak.

I liked Zamorak best, but I didn't think his ideas would be the best for society as a whole, so I ended up playing child of Guthix. Eventually we grew up and grew apart but every couple of years I'd go back to RuneScape, read the lore, settle on what choices I'd make if I could play, and think about being the player character. In 2010 I discovered a fic - dawn by khayr, it's on Ao3 and dA - about Iban, son of Zamorak, right around when I was reading Percy Jackson. Cue him showing up as a soulbond and an older brother figure and guiding me right up until the end of sixth grade. Iban got me through the ruthless bullying that would later set the stage for all my major suicidal-ideation and self-hatred for the entirety of high school: even then, I was more stable than I might've been otherwise, because he interfered.

Saradomin stands for strength through order. Procedures and law and diplomacy and war strategy. He was originally kind of a ripoff of the Christian god, but he's grown to be more of an order-over-peace character and is quite well-written. Guthix stands for strength through balance, and has been all over the board in terms of what he's done and will do. He's kind of a dick, actually, but his heart's in the right place.

Zamorak, as you've heard, is strength through chaos and personal strife. It's no "the strong over the weak" or "the strong take care of the weak", it's flat-out "everyone is strong, and just need the right circumstances to tap into it to be the best they can possibly be". Now, his philosophy is kind of more for warriors and scholars, but if you tilt your head, it applies to everyone. Chronically ill folks will find their chaos in fighting to get up every day and maintain a life. Folks in traumatizing, abusive situations find that chaos in their very survival. Scholars challenge themselves and their fellows and their predecessors trying to find the answers they so need. Nobody in lockstep, no such thing as "we've always done it this way."

A lot of human Zamorakians and Saradominist propaganda says that Zamorak is simply absolute evil: and to be fair, when most of that was written, he kinda was because he was based loosely on the Christian devil. Later writing says that they're typically mistaken on that. Zamorak isn't evil. The very first thing he did upon becoming a god was fulfill a promise and lead a slave rebeliion. (The Avernic uprising, if anyone's curious.) He stands for the downtrodden and says "You are never going to get your dignity by going through the motions and trying to peacefully show you're worth respect. Burn some shit down and prove that you won't stand for this bullshit."

Zamorak in a Saradominist's eyes is someone whose banner you wear when you want to be a crazy murderer. Zamorak in a Zamorakian's eyes is the singing voice who murmurs "Get up, this isn't enough to kill you, you can still do this," when transphobic laws get passed or you hear a slur thrown your way on the street.

And as someone who grew up queer and nonhuman, yeah, that resonates, and the older I get the more I think "Guthixian philosophy is best for a society at large, but Zamorakianism for individuals is good." Because Zamorakianism can't really apply on a theocratic level. It really doesn't. It turns into American bootstrap culture and no social services and all that shitty stuff.

The funny thing is that Zamorak himself has no issues helping out if he thinks you need it. (If he didn't, he wouldn't be cool with asking for help, or giving it when he's asked. Which he does do repeatedly so. The man has more kindness in him than people want to admit.) What I do find fascinating is what he thinks of the actions of some of his longtime subordinates, who clearly support him, but I don't think support his actual philosophy. Because if you ask me, he'd side with the downtrodden humans of Meiyerditch, not the vampire lords that treat them like cattle. He's proven that he likes humans, and doesn't see them as unworthy. I do wonder if Jagex will show us what he might do about that.

Either way. Ahem. Over the course of a decade and a half, I keep going back to RuneScape, refining my philosophy and side, thinking again what I would do playing the game proper. About... I want to say five years ago, Jagex opened up the Sixth Age and I finally noticed, and they rewrote every god's philosophy because they wanted every single one to be actually playable. Not just "hurr durr evil" but actually have a logical line of thought. They probably didn't have pop culture paganism in mind, but the gods of RS are incredibly well-suited to it.

Well, I found that out, and immediately went through every god's philosophy, and reasoned my way through it. What does a worshipper of this god look like? What sort of life would they lead? If i apply this to me, what does that look like from that perspective? Do I understand this? Is it comfortable to exist in?

And as it turns out, I understand Zamorak the most, followed a close second by Armadyl, which was quite surprising. Zaros remains incomprehensible and I don't trust like that. (That's another story.) So I thought about it more, and it stuck even when I wandered off to different fandoms and interests. But what happened was that I ended up internalizing it, unknowingly and without meaning to.

It meant that when, two years later, I ended up in a horrific and traumatizing situation, the anchor I hit that held me together was a mixture of being a Devil - I am a fucking God you will obey me and recognize my power - and Zamorak's core philosophy: this cannot kill me, this cannot stop me, this is pure fucking hell and I am going to laugh in the face of death because people are forged in hellfire and I will walk away knowing what I'm made of.

And I was right. Honestly, out of everyone who was there with me, I think I'm the only one that was that deeply entrenched and walked out without trauma. I do not believe I could have done that had I not internalized Zamorak's philosophy. (That isn't to say if the others had that philosophy they wouldn't be traumatized, because there were absolutely other factors I wouldn't know about and some that I do and didn't do them any favours; but I am saying that it saved my ass and without it, I might not have been okay.)

I walked out of that with zero regrets. Zero. Even now, I don't regret a thing. Because it doesn't matter what happened or how much I was lied to or if he deserved my kindness. I know what I perceived to be happening, and I know how I reacted, and when the pieces were down I was stronger than steel, gave kindness without considering the cost, and I walked away unscathed.

How many people can say they've looked death in the eye and laughed? More than there should be, not too many that knowing what I'm capable of when put into pure chaos isn't somehow impressive. Because it is. And Zamorak's words proved themselves, or rather, I proved him entirely correct.

And when I last went back to RuneScape, and thought about it with enough time to put it all into hindsight, well. Aw, shit, he was right. Then vaguely around that time I went back and read Dawn, which was unfinished, tracked down the author and demanded to know how it fucking ended. (She told me and we're still friends like three years later. xD) Then I went back and found my old OCs, and decided fuck it, I'm making my own World Guardian.

So first thing I did was log in and jump over to the Makeover Mage and make myself into a boy. Kept the plateskirt though, I wanted to have the RS equivalent of a limp wrist to prove I'm Very Queer. Then I went about remaking my character. I wanted to make a self-insert, I was old enough to know it wasn't cringey, it was just fun, but I didn't want to use my default avatar with the black hair over one eye and the Chaorruption. I wanted to make a new self-insert based in nothing I was already using.

So I made the most beautiful man I could! Long, dark brown hair, pretty semi-dark skin, looked Kharidian, and then I said fuck it and made him Zamorak's youngest son. Originally, he was adopted when he was young by Iban and Clivet, and suffered serious imposter syndrome when being WG meant he'd never get demigod powers. But as I grew more confident in myself, he ended up getting powers? And then eventually I rewrote his backstory, and then wrote about his mother, and her relationship with Zamorak, and then he had friends like Blaire and Icthlarin (who was also my furry awakening, rip me).

Then with the most recently questline I've been getting a bit more into RS magical theory, and I've been mulling it over lots, and Seanan McGuire's Middlegame definitely helped; and I figured out how I wanted him to handle being World Guardian: it didn't make sense for him to be openly Zamorak's son, the other gods would just target his family to manipulate him. So I had him play neutral openly and Zamorakian to his friends, effectively living a double life.

Then he just looked up one day and said "Oh, by the way, my father won't acknowledge me to keep me safe but I don't know that so we have a very unsteady relationship because I don't know if he loves me", and then Children of Mah came out, and he was all "Oh and I think I just got disowned (I didn't, Zamorak was protecting me, but I don't know that) so my relationship with Zamorak is Fucking Shitty" and he was stuck that way until I figured out how to save their relationship.

It culminated in Sabe not knowing how his Mahjarrat powers worked and guessing, and hating himself for being half-and-half, and missing everything about being a Mahjarrat, and literally you couldn't have gotten more obvious in order to tell me I was having Fucking Issues coming to terms with the fact I didn't have any understanding or knowledge of my own heritage, but whatever, eventually I noticed that.

And as I've been working to understand myself and my heritage, so too has Sabe been doing that with his Mahjarrat heritage. But for the longest time, no matter how I put him and Zamorak in the same room in a scene to try and get them to talk it out, it wasn't working. Something wasn't right. Sabe resented being World Guardian, hated having to betray his family, didn't know if he was wanted, and hated himself for having to kill Mah, the mother of his species.

Not that long ago, a few months actually, he informed me (which is my shorthand for 'I suddenly figured out this happened, and it genuinely feels like remembering that one fucking word you have on the tip of your tongue, I always knew and just forgot for a while') that no, he'd been ripped in two by a hope devourer, brought to his father's stronghold, and Zamorak split his magic between mortal and divine in order to get around his godproofing and heal him. Zamorak's intense worry for his youngest son was what caused Sabe to break down and tell him honestly what was going on and how he was feeling, which caused Zamorak to do the same, and they finally, finally made up.

A week later, I noticed the connection between Sabe's Mahjarrat issues and my Irish issues, and started to wonder if he was a linktype.

I mean... he's a self-insert. He makes the choices I would, the me in the here and now, that I think are best. He's not a person I was and still know myself to be, he's not someone I grow into, he's not living his life beside me like a shadow. He's me, choosing the things I do, because I say so. But he's also me in the things he reflects, the things he struggles with, and things I had zero fucking conscious input on.

Sabe is the person I am when a crisis hits and I have to deal with the chaos. Sabe is the person I am when I need to lead. Sabe is the person I am when I am desperate to be known and loved by those I consider family. Sabe is the person I am when I want to be sure in where I came from, where I will return to, and the things that I will always be. Sabe is a man of darkness who knows the light as an acquaintance and nothing more, who is cruel and careless and kind.

Sabe is a warpriest of Zamorakian philosophy, because it took me twenty fucking years to put into words how I see the world, and now that I know, I will argue them to death and use them to help others. Drakath may have wanted a messiah to share the hivemind with others. Sabe is a warpriest, spreading the word and calling home the broken and the damned. He is the Last Rider, not the last of the Ilujanka but the one who keeps riding towards the chaos and never falls, no matter what.

Some of who Sabe is I have conscious input on. A whole lot of him was unintentional and perfectly reflects me.

So when it comes to terminology... I don't know what he is. A self-insert, yes. A linktype, maybe. A kintype, also maybe. Sabe doesn't feel like my past linktypes, because Sabe isn't always catharsis and comfort. Until he made up with his dad, Sabe was brutal and hurt a lot and constantly yearning for his foundation and slowly going mad. It wasn't fun. I just refused to do anything but see the story through. I was going to get it right. I wanted to see it to the end. I wanted to be the Last Rider, even though I didn't phrase it that way.

But to answer your actual question, of what he feels like when I'm not actively being him out of necessity, desire, and active thought. If it fades into the background.

And like... it can? Sabe as he is, recognized for what and who he is, is kind of a new thing. Sabe as a concept is very old, but Sabe as what he is right now is new, and confusing, and honestly I'm still trying to figure out what to make of it.

Like, seriously. Sabe is Zamorak's son. Am I Zamorak's son? Is he keeping an eye on me as I am? Would he be proud of me? Would he offer his approval of my progress? Does that make me, in some way, the World Guardian?

I have not a clue, buddy. Not a goddamn clue.

So what it means is that I've been paying attention, really. I don't just become strong in times of crisis. I've been trying to do better. Be better. Learn, and listen, and rethink myself. Break out of lockstep, of doing things the way I've always done them. Try to always do better than I did, build habits I like, stop waiting for things to change and just do it. Become the chaos, instead of waiting for it to hit me.

It means I need to live up to what Guthix told Sabe to do. It means being gentler, being kinder, not burning bridges when I'm not sure. It means keeping an eye out for any sign Zamorak's listening, in case I am his son, in case I really have to decide what I'm gonna do about being the son of chaos incarnate.

But other than the questioning, what it feels like is just... what I was already dealing with, just a little more at arm's length and easier to deal with. Once I recognize that his issues are reflective of mine, if I solve his, I have a pretty good idea of how to solve mine. Some of it won't work exactly right - Zamorak will always forgive him for not being the son he expected he might have had, my own parents may not, yay I'm queer and pagan - but it's a good rule of thumb.

It's also just comforting to know that when in doubt, nothing can kill me, because I simply refuse to die. I am World Guardian, I am a demigod of chaos incarnate, all the hellfire in the world can do nothing but strengthen me. And if I present those to myself as unshakeable beliefs, because for Sabe they are, then I'll be okay. It probably couldn't stop most disasters or tragedies, but I got hit by a car, broke five bones, and walked away with a record recovery time, so I mean... I can't prove that I can't die by some accident or tragedy, but you also can't prove that I can. (Trying to do so usually falls under what we call 'murder', and I personally believe I can't be murdered. Only assassinated.)

But really, I think the worst that could possibly happen with a new linktype is that you learn what not to do. It's new, it's scary, it's chaotic, and from where I'm standing, that's the best way to learn.

[cuculine-nelipot]

Wish We Could

Chapter One: Loved You First

{ Pairing: Hermione Granger x Fred Weasley

Summary: After the Battle of Howgarts, Hermione and Ron start dating; their slow-burn friends to lovers arc complete. He’s nice, and she’s comfortable, and everyone is happy for them. Everyone but Fred, who can’t stop thinking that he loved her first, and Hermione, who begins to wonder if they really are as over as she thought they were. }

2nd May 1998, The Battle at Hogwarts

Hermione Jean Granger was far from perfect. No one knew that better than she did. But she was careful, and she didn’t break things she couldn’t fix, or at least she didn’t used to. So you can imagine the devastation she felt when she kissed Ron, when he kissed her back, and the years of bickering, and flirting with flirting ended in that one, cataclysmic moment. She saw Fred watching, she saw the break; the life she then realised she wanted more than anything broke to pieces right there in his startlingly green eyes. She heard Harry yell something at them, Ron peeled away, laughing, and Fred was gone. The show went on, as it had to, as it must, because  if there is one thing Hermione had learnt in her life, it’s that there is no such thing as a person, only players, and there is no free will, only the cruel pen of fate, and Hermione was its unwitting almost-heroine.

22nd August 1998, Morning

So maybe things aren’t so bad. Ron is sweet, or he is trying to be. Ron calls precisely when he says he will. Ron comes to dinner with her parents. Ron tries his hardest to at least look like he is following their dentist-talk. Ron’s kisses are soft, though they tend to be more mushy than gentle. Ron smells like strawberry shampoo. Ron is learning everything he can about cricket, and Chelsea F.C, and Ron is memorising her favourites of everything. Ron is a practiced mummy’s boy, and hers simply adores him. And Ron is her friend, has been since First Year. Together they have fought trolls and rode dragons. They almost died together more times than she cares to count. Theirs is the story you couldn’t write, a romance blown to epic proportions, this love is sweeter than fiction, — right? So why is she so nervous?

Ron arrives at 0930 sharp, dressed in respectable dark grey trousers and a blood red jumper. He kisses Hermione on the cheek, hugs Mrs. Granger, and shares a firm handshake with Mr. Granger. He hands Hermione a bouquet of garden roses because, she supposes, they look enough like peonies. On observing that his white shirt collar is crumpled and half tucked in, she compulsively reaches out and straightens it. He blushes, and from the corner of her eye she sees her mother purse her lips as though trying not to smile, a gleam in her eye as she witnesses this small act of intimacy. Hermione drops her hand, wishing she could take it back.

The again restored powder blue Ford Anglia idles in the driveway. Mr. Granger makes a remark about car batteries, and Ron agrees, saying nothing of the vehicle’s extra-ordinary traits. He holds the door open for Mrs Granger and Hermione. You look beautiful today, he says as the latter slides past him. This is the first time her parents are visiting The Burrow, so she thought they would be more comfortable undertaking the journey the muggle way. Her parents, quite understandably, have become just the slightest bit skittish around magic since learning of their daughter’s escapades, starting from aged 12 to seven months ago, including the fact that she had erased their memories and sent them to Australia for the better part of a year. This had the unforeseen and rather unfortunate side-effect of inspiring in them a strong desire to become more involved in the social aspects of her ‘other life’, as they had come to think of it. When Ron showed up one day, shortly after she gave them back their memories, and re-introduced himself as her boyfriend, this day became inevitable. And so, they are on their way Ottery St. Catchpole to visit the Weasleys.

The conversation flows well enough, Ron proves surprisingly adept at keeping the usually rather withdrawn Mr. and Mrs. Granger talking about their work, and sports. Her parents, eager to make up for lost time, and to know everything about their daughter’s apparent suitor, ask him lots of questions about the upcoming school year, and the adventures of their past, though there is a significant portion they skirt around (the time she was petrified for instance). Ron knows when to listen and when to ask the right questions. Ron knows which stories to tell. Ron keeps them laughing enough that they don’t notice the ride to Devon is going much faster than the laws of physics allowed. And Hermione looks out the window, and says nothing. It is a scenic drive to the West Country. All rolling fields and blue skies. The sun, a pale gold, trips lightly through a barely there mist, and everything shimmers.

“Is everything okay?” Her mother asks, nudging her with her elbow. Hermione half turns to look at her and nods, saying nothing of the cold dampness rolling through her stomach.

19th  June 1996

It didn’t come out of nowhere, their first kiss, though it would have looked that way to anyone watching. Maybe it wasn’t the best timing — okay it was terrible timing — but time suddenly seemed to be in short supply. After all, she had just almost died again — Hermione, and everyone else who had been at the Department of Mysteries the night before. It must have been afternoon but it was impossible to tell with the curtains drawn, shading the ward an artificial dusk. Everyone was sound asleep except her, and Sirius, who was in another room going mad from his glimpse beyond the veil. Hermione was reading a book. She could always find one.

Fred walked in alone. She remembered thinking that was weird, but when he pressed his lips to hers, it became apparent why. “What are you doing here?” she asked, keeping her voice low.

“Well in case you missed it, my brother, my sister, and my friends all just almost died. I got here is soon as I could.” He skips over the words with characteristic lightness, but there’s a gravity in his aspect she had never seen before.

“Well in that case you’re late,” she teases, her tired face jerking in the vague likeness of a smile.

“It’s just gone past seven in the morning,” he frowns, and brushes the hair from her cheek, “what time did you think it was?”

“Afternoon,” she sighed, leaning back into the pillows. “So I only slept for a few minutes then.”

“I’ll ask a nurse to get you more Sleeping Draught.” He turned to go but she grabbed his wrist to stop him. It seemed too intimate, but she liked it, and judging the grin that flitted across his face, so did he.

“Don’t. They’re busy.”

“You need to sleep. You’re a patient too.” He leaned down, gently kissed her on the forehead, and swept her hair back. “I’ll be right back.”

22nd August 1998, Afternoon

Hermione had hoped that she would have to act as mediator between her parents and Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, and that she would therefore be much too preoccupied to worry about how uniquely uncomfortable the circumstances are. But she had no such luck. Not only was Fred everywhere, but her parents and the Weasleys got along famously. Ron had apparently  well-advised his father on the appropriate number of muggle-specific questions to ask in an hour (one), and their mothers shared a passion for gardening. Already there was talk of exchanging various herb seedlings. She should be relieved, happy even, and it occurs to her that under different circumstances she would have been.

The rest of the gang had peeled away shortly after lunch in search of something more entertaining, leaving her and Ron alone with the parents. Hermione politely excuses herself from the table.

“And where do you think you’re sneaking off to Granger?” This particular red-haired boy  that she almost slams into is missing an ear.

“George!” The smile that creeps across her face is nothing short of ebullient. Perhaps even more so than his twin, George Weasley could put near anyone in a good humour. “I wasn’t sneaking off anywhere. I just… needed to use the loo.”

“Pity. We were just about to throw the Quaffle around. Could do with a sixth. I was meant to get Percy but I’m sure everyone would much prefer you.”

“Everyone?” She asks skeptically. George was, of course, the only one who knew about the car crash that had been hers and Fred’s… whatever it was.

“Everyone,” he insists.

It’s cold for August, the sky is clear and the sun is still shining in that enchanted way.  If there was a such a thing as perfect Quidditch weather, even Hermione would have had to admit that this was it. Harry has his arms wrapped around Ginny, saying something in her ear that makes them both laugh. Fred and Charlie talk a few feet away, watching them with equally perplexed and somewhat revolted expressions.

“If I saw Ron doing that I might just puke,” she hears Fred say. She could have heard him say anything and smile, but that particular remark makes something spark in her heart that she fights hard to stifle. “Oh, Hermione!” His pond-weed green eyes widen comically when he catches sight of her, the skin of his cheekbones turning pink. “Hi Hermione, hey!” He shifts his weight uncomfortably and looks away.

“Fred,” she says, cool as ever. “Hey Charlie!”

“I’m sorry, Hermione was it?” He asks with a teasing glance at Fred. “It’s good to see you again,” he adds, and gives her a brawny hug. She hadn’t actually managed to properly say hi to anyone earlier, there was so much excitement about Ron and Hermione, and The Meeting of the Parents. Harry and Ginny tear themselves apart and come over, and more hugs are shared. The divide themselves into teams of three, and for the first time in a while everything feels almost normal.

While she is by far the weakest player between the six of them, one simply could not spend years around Quidditch buffs without picking up a few things and Hermione, a true perfectionist, was now more than capable of sort of holding her own. And besides, Ginny was the only one present who actually played as a Chaser; George and Fred are more suited to whacking than passing, and Charlie and Harry, like most Seekers, are terrible at paying attention to other people. After a far too lengthy debate it was decided that the most balanced configuration was Hermione, George, and Harry against Ginny, Charlie, and Fred. Things get off to a slow start; it was nearly impossible to get Harry and Ginny to stop flirting and actually play the damned game. But once George slips past Charlie and scores an easy goal, it’s game on. He and Harry score five more between them in quick succession. Ginny, not one to take losing lightly, especially not to her Seeker boyfriend, ‘accidentally’ sends the Quaffle flying at Harry’s head, causing it to ricochet straight into Fred’s hands, and he makes fast work of scoring. They equalise soon after.

The game quickly degenerates into anarchy. Ginny bites George’s arm to keep him from scoring. Hermione flies up behind Harry and covers his eyes as he tries to make a pass. At some point, Charlie takes a shot and both George and Hermione dive to save it, ramming into each other head first. Hermione, much smaller, and the weaker flyer, falls off and George lunges to grab her arm but misses, so she’s free falling. Everyone swoops in to catch her but Fred gets there first. She slams into his outstretched arms, and his broom jerks down, threatening to send them both tumbling to the ground but he manages a semi-controlled landing and they both stumble onto the grass, winded and half in shock, but otherwise okay. Bending over with their hands on their knees, they catch their breaths while the others land one by one. Their eyes meet, and they experience a fleeting, shinning moment of absolute clarity.

“Well I suppose it’s been a good few months since someone’s almost died,” Ginny quips. All faces turn to her, stunned, speechless. She shrugs and makes a face as if to say am I wrong? And just like that the tension dissolves into hysterics, and they’re laughing — side-stitch, red-face, on the floor laughing harder than any of them have in longer than they can remember.

“Sorry,” George manages between gasps for air. “I’m really sorry.”

“You better be careful Georgie,” Fred says with a pointed, peevish sideways glance in Hermione’s direction, “wouldn’t want to incur the wrath of ickle Ronnikins now would we?” In that moment she swears she could deck him, and she’s sure he only said it because he knows she can’t.

“What’s going on here?” The voice cuts through the hilarity like an ice pick.

“Nothing dad!” Hermione trills defensively “We were just messing around.”

“Well no one invited me,” Ron groans at what he thinks is a discrete volume, but earns their party a withering look from Mrs. Weasley anyway.

“Sorry Ron,” Charlie offers diplomatically, “but we had an even six and if you joined then we would have had to ask Percy to play too —”

“— I heard that!” Comes the disembodied screech from inside.

“— which we of course would have thoroughly enjoyed but he’s just so hard at work helping to rebuild the wizarding world in these trying times.” Charlie works very hard at keeping a straight face while the rest of them burst into laughter again. He may have been laying it on a bit thick, but it works well enough to put an end to the subject, and they all go inside for tea. Fred shoots Hermione another peevish grin, and this time it’s undeniable; she wants to kiss him as much as she wants to absolutely eviscerate him.

Evening

No, Fred Weasley does not know what he’s doing. He just know it’s a bad idea, and that he can’t stop himself. He can’t stop his heart working double-time whenever he catches sight of Hermione. He can’t stop watching his younger brother talking to Mr. and Mrs. Granger, and thinking that it should be him. He couldn’t stop the rush he felt when he had Hermione in his arms, and he can’t stop wishing that he hadn’t had to let go. He couldn’t stop the hope that sparked in his chest when they landed and she looked at him that way, and he can’t stop it happening again every time he replays the moment in his head. He also cannot stop replying the moment in his head.

He can’t stop looking at her. He couldn’t stop himself from sitting across from her at dinner. He can’t stop himself brushing her fingers when she passes him the butter, and the salt, and the pepper and the peas. He can’t stop looking at how her skin glows bronze, and her dark hair flecks golden red in the warm, floating-candle light. He can’t stop thinking how he loved her first. He can’t stop any of it.

“You’re playing a dangerous game here,” Charlie says low into his ear, after the third time he asks Hermione to please pass the plate of Yorkshire puddings.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“She’s dating our brother.”

“I know that.”

“So what are you doing?”

“I’m not doing anything” he snaps, struggling to keep an even keel. Charlie leans back with a satisfied smirk and says no more on the subject for the rest of dinner, but he does yelp when Fred spills hot soup onto his lap.

20th June 1996

Already Hogwarts felt like something from another age. Was it just months ago George and Fred turned the fifth floor corridor into a swamp and flew off into the sunset, hanging up their blue and and bronze ties with so much flair and theatricality? It didn’t seem possible. Held up in the early morning’s grey light, against the dense mist rolling over the glassy, black lake, that moment seems somewhat lurid now. So Voldermort was back. They already knew that, and now everyone else did too.

“Are we going to talk about yesterday?” Hermione asks, her voice splintering the thin silence. The question catches him entirely by surprise. First because he wasn’t sure how she knew it was him coming up behind her. Second because she had seemed to be ignoring him since the hospital.

“Do you want to talk about yesterday?”

“Why did you kiss me?” She tried to sound cold, but a slight whine in her voice made it obvious that she had been fretting over the question.

“Because I wanted too, and because I almost didn’t get the chance.

After some consideration, during which she was completely still and he shifted anxiously on his feet, she turned to him and said, “I think I’d like to do it again. Just to see.”

He kissed her without hesitation, tilting her head back with his hands on either side of her face. It was brief and it was sweet. “Was that okay?”

“That was perfect. Thank you.” She turned back to face the lake, agonisingly unreadable. After a moment, she reached out and silently took his hand.

 22nd August 1998, Night

There is nothing Hermione wants more than to dive into bed and stay there until it’s time to go to King’s Cross. Or better, to simply wake up on the 2nd of September and find herself in History of Magic, or Transfiguration. Maybe if she was lucky, Professor McGonagall would teach her how to turn herself into a teapot. At least that way she will always be full of tea and she’ll never have to think about boys again. But no, there had to be showers, and hot chocolate, and going over the evening with her parents in agonising detail. When she at last manages to escape, she is already halfway up the stairs when her mother calls out.

“The twin with both ears — Fred — was he the young man that used to call all the time?”

“Yes,” Hermione replies curtly, a prickle of heat rising up her neck.

“What happened between the two of you?”

“Nothing,” she shrugs, trying her best to look nonchalant. Too much. Not enough.

She tries to go to sleep but fails. She reads but can’t concentrate, as is wont to happen on the rare occasions books seem to yield no answers or insight. Eventually she takes to laying upside down on her bed, staring at the pinprick lights criss-crossing her ceiling. There’s a tap at her window, and turning her head reveals a familiar old bird. A really old bird. At the sight of Errol she scrambles, perhaps a little too excitedly, to slide the window open. He offers her his leg, and the attached scrap of parchment. She scratches his head and offers him the small bowl of birdseed she keeps nearby for such occasions. He flies away. She unfurls the note, and sees the familiar, elegant script that he uses when he’s up to something:

Mademoiselle Granger,

I would like to request the joy of your company at Florean Fortescue’s Ice Cream Parlour this coming Monday, the twenty-fourth of August, at ten o’clock ante meridiem.  

Sincerely, F. Weasley

chapter one | chapter two