#the final test to see if your art actually looks like charlie:

[ambitionsource]

AMBITION “Coup De Foudre” [ 4.13 ]♮Part 2

INT. BLUE’S APARTMENT - DAY

Taking their own lore tour, Isa and the MacNamaras make their next stop on the Isa Essentials expedition. They drop by BLUE NGUYEN’s for a late lunch. They look just as trendy and laid back as the last time we saw them, and only slightly frazzled by the prospect of hosting one of the world’s biggest film stars for an afternoon tea.

BEATRIX TORRES and JERICHO TORRES are also in attendance, a fair representation of the company Isa has kept since they finally left the foster system. Ruby jumps right into socializing and goes to introduce herself, while Isa and Zachary hang back a moment in the entryway to take it all in.

Isa: Family reunion, part 3?

Whatever they want to share of their world, Zachary will take it. He gives them a gentle smile.

INT. CHARLIE’S APARTMENT - DAY

Charlie and Zay are back at the former’s apartment, crashed on the couch together. Even though Zay has only actually been there a few times, he seems to be quickly making himself at home, not at all out of place in the space.

And even though they’re being somewhat vague about their relationship status to everyone else at the moment, they once again are having no issue presenting like they’re reattached at the hip. Relative to the past, they’re quite cozy together on the couch, sitting far closer than they need to be given they have the whole thing to themselves. They could easily spread out with room to spare, but instead they’re both scrunched over on one side, shoulders and elbows and knees touching as if it’s so casual.

Right now, they’re flipping through brochures, looking at the courses the college Charlie has chosen -- but not yet revealed to the rest of us -- are offering. Classically, Zay seems unimpressed.

Charlie: Come on. “Marriage and Morals Among the Victorians?” “The Art of the Diary?” [ humming excitedly ] “The Philosophical Life?” You can’t tell me those don’t sound interesting. Zay: Charlie. Charlie. Look at me. Look deep into my eyes. [ taking his face ] It does not sound interesting.

Oh, wah wah. Zay is just anti-academia. Charlie shrugs him off, making a face, but he knows he’s only teasing him. Honestly, it’s cute to see him so enthused about it, to get to watch him nerd out unapologetically again. It’s a far cry from how he seemed about Yale.

Zay raises his eyebrows when Charlie flips the page in the brochure, displaying the list of language courses. He points out Charlie could probably test out of that requirement given his French experience now -- unless he’s determined to take twenty credits a semester or whatever. Then he points towards another one beneath it on the list.

Zay: Though I suppose it might be wiser to brush up on your Italian. You know, in case they determine you guilty of gay crimes against humanity and ship you back to serve your sentence. Charlie: Whatever I was doing over there, I promise you, it wouldn’t be considered criminal. [ off his slightly jealous expression, with a grin ] Besides, I’ll have you know my Italian is decent. Zay: Oh, yeah? Prove it. Say something right now. Charlie: [ with a scoff ] I don’t have to prove it… Zay: Mm… that kind of just sounds like you don’t want to prove otherwise. And that I’m right.

God, he really is so cheeky… and a bit transparent. As if he just doesn’t want to hear him speak a foreign language again… so Charlie obliges, rolling his eyes just for the impression that he’s inconveniencing him.

Charlie: [ in Italian ] Isaiah, you are very stubborn… and quite wondrous. Zay: Okay… okay… you’re insulting me, aren’t you?

Maaaybe… just a little of everything. Charlie shrugs coyly, earning a nudge from Zay, who isn’t satisfied. That was just one sentence! Anyone can learn one sentence. Say something else.

Charlie: You are so demanding. What am I to you, Duolingo? Zay: No way -- that owl has way more rizz than you.

Um, hello?! Charlie scoffs out a laugh, lightly shoving him back. They fall into a playful brief back-and-forth, naturally ending up pressed closer together in the process, until Charlie finally relents and offers him one more treat through the chuckles.

Charlie: Ti amo! Ti amo molto, Zay, capisce?

Yes, Zay can translate that even with his limited knowledge of the language. And it hits exactly as intended, still knocking the wind out of him. That comment about his rizz was far too premature.

But Charlie did meet his request, so all right, he’ll reward him. He closes the small gap between them and gives him a kiss. It lingers, their lips brushing again as soon as they pull apart.

Zay: I mean, you could’ve just Googled that, but…

This guy. Honestly. Charlie shakes his head, endeared grin unstoppable, before stealing another kiss.

Zay: Let’s hear it again though. Just for thoroughness.

So transparent… but Charlie is happy to deliver. He’s got a lot of time to make up for.

Charlie: Ti amo, Zay. Zay: Yeah? Charlie: Mhm… [ another soft kiss ] Ti penso ogni giorno. Sempre. Amore mio. [ and another ] Ti amerò sempre.

Okay, Zay definitely can’t translate all of that, but he doesn’t need to. Charlie’s delivery gets the message across regardless, gentle and tender and just barely above a whisper. Palpable in its soft sincerity.

I think of you every day. All the time. My love. I will always love you.

If Zay didn’t want to get got, stumbling into another unbeatable, inescapable moment with Charlie Gardner, then he shouldn’t have fucked around. Now he’s found out… and, truth be told, he isn’t mad about it.

Zay: Okay, fuck me, then.

Charlie breaks into another laugh, then gladly accepts another kiss. They let this one linger too, blending naturally and effortlessly into another one… then another, just a tad more carried away…

Until they’re interrupted, keys jingling briefly in the lock before the apartment door swings open. They jump as Riley steps into the room, the three of them staring at each other with wide eyes for the briefest of moments before Riley immediately swoops into apologies.

Riley: OMG. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I’m interrupting, aren’t I? Sorry, sorry --

Based on the look on Zay’s face, yes, she is definitely interrupting -- but he can’t stay mad at Riley. He joins Charlie in assuring her that the intrusion is fine. She assures them in return that she won’t be long (so they can get back to whatever they were, um, doing… ha ha), she just wanted to stop by and pick some things up for Lucas.

Riley: We’re trying to consolidate all his things in one place before the big move -- I know there’s still a ton of time, but it’s a slow process. He keeps forgetting about this stuff that Grace is asking about, so I told him I’d stop by after class to grab it.

A lot on his mind making him distracted. This conversation rings a bell for Charlie, who recalls Lucas mentioning something similar. He climbs to his feet and claims he’ll go grab the box for her, disappearing back into Lucas’s room.

While they’re briefly alone, Riley settles onto the opposite end of the couch and turns her curious eyes on Zay. She glances over her shoulder to confirm Charlie is still searching, then drops her voice to a conspiratorial murmur.

Riley: Based on whatever I just walked in on, things seem pretty good between you two. Zay: Yeah. Thanks for that, by the way. Riley: So does that mean -- I mean, are you two…?

It almost feels dangerous to verbalize it, like it might shatter if they do. Are they actually, finally, back together? Could we get some official confirmation here? She can’t help it -- she’s nosy.

Much like before, despite Riley’s undeniable charm, Zay holds his ground. He gives her the same story he gave Maya, that they’re not confirming anything until they’ve wrapped up the loose ends in their current plans and made certain their choices will work out how they want. So for now, no additional clarity, but rest assured…

Zay: You’re right, things are good. [ glancing in the direction he left ] We’re working it out.

Together, this time. With communication, clarity, and no room for confusion. That makes all the difference.

Riley is clearly dying to know all the details, but she doesn’t push. She can respect their desire for privacy, and mostly, she just seems relieved they’re in a good place. It’s been a long, long three years of being in the middle of their tragedy, watching it all unfold and helpless to do anything about it.

Thankfully, her fix-it instincts are no longer needed here -- doubly good, considering she may not be here much longer. She jumps to her feet again when Charlie reemerges with the shoebox from Lucas’s room, handing it off to her with a smile. She thanks him, slipping her bag off her shoulder to tuck it safely away.

While she has both of them, she asks if they’re free over the next couple of days. She wants to go shopping for a few things before the potential major changes this summer, and she thought it would be a fun way for them to spend some quality time as a trio. Since they’ve basically never gotten to do that before, given past circumstances, and because she may not have many opportunities to do so soon if all goes to plan.

Yeah, her big plans… it’s clear based on how she speaks about it around them that she’s brought Charlie up to speed, too, so they’re in the loop. Zay still looks hesitant about the whole thing, but wisely chooses not to comment; Charlie seems less concerned, happily agreeing for both of them that they should be free.

Before Riley goes, she takes a second to check in with Charlie too, softening her voice as she broaches the topic. Not wanting to intrude any further, but they haven’t gotten much of a chance to talk…

Riley: Are you doing okay? You know, with the… with your family?

Charlie seems surprised she’s asking. He offers an unbothered smile, shrugging.

Charlie: Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine. Riley: Are you sure? I know this has to be hard, so -- Charlie: No, for sure, but I’m all good. Got other stuff to be focused on right now, anyway. So.

He brightens his smile, convincing as ever. Riley can only take him at his word -- she doesn’t exactly have time to wear him down otherwise.

So she says goodbye for now, giving him a quick hug and blowing Zay a kiss as she promises she’ll see them later this week. Charlie follows her to the door, seeing her out, before flopping back down to rejoin Zay on the couch. He brings an arm up to drape behind Zay on the couch, a detail Zay notices and is not at all opposed to. Kind of boyfriend behavior…

But his mind is caught on moments earlier. Riley brought it up so he didn’t have to, but admittedly, he’d been waiting for the right time to ask.

Zay: Did you mean what you said? Charlie: Hm? Zay: When Riley asked about your fam. Specifically, Helleanor. Charlie: Oh. Well, yeah. Zay, skeptical: Really? [ a beat ] I’m not trying to be pushy. I just know how… if you want to talk about it, then you know you can always --

In short, he thinks his unbothered, chill persona might be bullshit. Given all the history and context, he has very good reason to think so. But Charlie is apparently committed to it, truth or not, because he gives Zay the same shrug and manages a smile.

Charlie: No, yeah, I meant it. I’m good. Zay: … really. Charlie: I mean, is it how I wanted things to go? No. But I can’t change it. That’s not something I can control. No sense being inconsolable about it.

That’s mature, and neat, and everything… but it still doesn’t sound quite right. It kind of feels like they’re sixteen again, and Charlie is doing that thing where he’s so totally okay with everything it almost doesn’t feel human. 

And just like then, Zay sees right through it. He can sense the plastic covering Charlie has plastered over this vulnerability, pretending it’s all fine, but he isn’t sure how to puncture it without making a big mess. One he doesn’t want to make, given how they’re finally in that place where things are pretty good.

Charlie basically echoes as much, giving him a smile that feels markedly more genuine.

Charlie: Besides, like I said, I have a lot of other stuff to be focusing on. [ gazing at him ] There’s a lot of good in my life right now.

That, at least, is true enough. Zay returns the smile, letting Charlie lean close and pull him into another kiss… though that uncertainty is still itching at the back of his mind.

INT. AAA - ATRIUM - DAY

To wrap up the afternoon, Isa takes Zachary and Ruby to Adams. It feels a bit surreal to walk through the doors again, to take in the vast, empty entryway that’s quiet save for JANITOR HARLEY KEINER allowing them inside.

Zachary: It’s nice of you to let us stop by. Harley: Through express permission of the principal himself only. It pays to be well-connected. Isa: I’m well aware, though not by choice. Harley: But you’re right. It’s not as though Isa would’ve finagled their way in here regardless of whether I said yes, likely with help from one of their many former classmates. These kids never do dastardly things like that. [ clasping his hands together ] Ain’t that right, De La Cruz? Isa: Completely. One-hundred percent. No one gets into this school that isn’t supposed to.

Uh-huh. Harley narrows his eyes slightly, then backs off, stating it was a pleasure to meet them all. Especially Zachary -- he’s a big fan.

Zachary: Oh, well. Thank you. Ruby: Most everybody is. You love the Hastings films, I’m guessing? Harley: Oh, no. I mean, don’t get me wrong, they’re good fun. But I’m all about the deep cuts. Like Hard Knock Flight, when you played that down-on-his-luck janitor who had to thwart the assassins? [ touching his chest ] I deeply felt that one. Thank you for your work.

Right… well, if that’s all, Harley will leave them to it. As he does, Isa gets sucked back into looking around the atrium. It’s not like it’s been ages since they’ve been here, with Eric as principal, but the scary part is how every time, it starts to feel further away. This reminder of how even as it remains unchanged, the clock is ticking, moving them further and further apart from this time and this place.

To Ruby and Zachary, though, it’s all brand new, and that eases the homesickness somewhat. Ruby is more than excited as she takes it all in, pointing out details Isa has mentioned like the staircase and the tall ceilings. She grows even more keen when she sees the display with all the photographs from past years and shows, a few from Beauty & The Beast still managing to hold their place.

Ruby: Look at your friends… oh, this is lovely. They all look so great. Zachary: You weren’t in this one? Isa: Nah. I decided to go back to my techie roots this time around. And it was better that way -- all my friends got to do their thing, get their starring moment, and I got to build a death contraption with my best friend. Kind of memories you just can’t substitute.

Zachary raises his eyebrows at “death trap,” but doesn’t get the chance to ask. Ruby finds the photograph of the entire cast and crew up by the top left -- which includes the techies -- and points it out.

Ruby: I’m sorry, but this is just too lovely. Look at you all! You’re going to have to show me all your pictures next time you’re out to visit and tell me all the stories.

Honestly, that sounds nice. Isa smiles.

Isa: I’ll put out a call to get an accurate roll of photos, sure. Zachary: That’ll be neat. I bet the boys will like it too. Ruby: Oh, and we should certainly invite Farkle over too. You’re both such good storytellers, and I’m sure his performer perspective would be a good counterbalance to whatever perspective you give us. Balance the biases, I think.

It’s a cute idea… but it just unwittingly tears open that cut in Isa’s chest again. They manage not to show it, keeping their smile intact, but it falters just enough to signal that the reminder digs deep. 

And who knows how much longer they might have to even remotely try to fix it…

INT. MINKUS HOME - DAY

The next day, the door to the Minkus penthouse opens, Zay standing on the other side. He’s holding a shopping bag, and based on Farkle’s expression, he wasn’t expecting to see him.

Farkle: Hey? Zay: Hey. You gonna invite me in, or? Farkle: Oh, yeah. Sure.

He steps back, allowing him to step inside. Definitely not opposed to the surprise pop-in, but not at all prepared for it. His mind is on keeping his emotions in check, and getting ready for LA, and nowhere near base levels of cool to hang out with Zay -- if he had any at all to begin with.

Farkle: Uh, what are you doing here? Zay: Do you not read your texts? I mentioned I was gonna stop by while I was in the neighborhood. Jada’s only a couple stations away, so -- Farkle: Oh, uh, no. I didn’t see that. I haven’t been looking at my phone much lately.

Try at all. He’s basically actively avoiding it. Unhelpful, clearly, as Zay rolls his eyes.

Zay: Richest bitch in Manhattan, and you don’t even look at your brand new iPhone. Farkle: Actually, I have an Android. Zay: Even worse. Farkle: That’s not -- anyway. [ eyeing the bag ] Did you go shopping, or? Zay: No. This is why I’m here. Maya said you left these in your frantic dipping from France, and for some ungodly reason, she couldn’t just give them to you herself. Something about “I have career matters to attend to, Zayby,” something something blah blah blah.

So here they are. Zay hands over the bag, making it crystal clear neither of them should get used to him playing errand boy. Farkle thanks him, peeking into the bag to look at the contents and confirming they’re as Maya described.

Once that’s out of the way, it’s back to just the two of them standing around not sure what to say. Because every conversation they’ve had lately has been heated, or heavy, or grappling with these larger, grander young adult emotions that they aren’t sure how to handle just yet. That they aren’t sure how they keep having to handle together, why they seem drawn to one another’s melodrama like magnets.

Yet, again, here they are. Zay clears his throat.

Zay: So, you going back to LA? Farkle: Uh, yeah. I’m leaving tomorrow. Zay: Right. Well, good luck with all that. Farkle: Thanks. And you? Did you decide about Turner, or the tour? Zay: I did. Farkle: … and do I get to know what that is? Zay: Once the relevant parties know, then everyone else will get to know. That’s the way I’m playing it. Sorry. No advanced previews for the people. Farkle: Boy, you love the drama of suspense. [ off his pithy shrug ] I’m assuming Charlie got to know, though. Zay: He ain’t people.

Fair enough. Farkle doesn’t even bother to question it -- he knows the history, way more than Zay thinks he does, and even if he didn’t, it wouldn’t seem confusing to him. Charlie’s got that way about him, for one, but also it’s always been clear the two of them have something special. Friendship or more. There’s just something different about them.

That’s what Farkle thinks he wants -- what he’s been searching for this whole time. He wants that sort of feeling where it goes without saying that you’ll share everything; that you’re inherently, automatically set apart from the rest.

Clearly, that’s not in his cards. So he swallows his jealousy and moves on.

Anyway, Zay commends Farkle for heading back to LA. Given all the history there now, he can imagine it feels like a mixed bag. Farkle nods, compelled to make a confession.

Farkle: I thought about moving back here, actually. Zay: Oh. Wow. [ a beat ] Why? Farkle: That chilling a possibility? Zay: No. It just -- you know, shitty ex aside, it seems like you’ve got good things going out there. I suppose you’ll hear from that agent soon, and you already made a splash in the theater scene at USC in your freshman year. That’s not something to spit on. Farkle: Yeah… yeah, that’s true. Zay: So it’s not like I don’t think you could do the same here, eventually, but when the dominos seem to have aligned so well out there… Farkle: That’s true. You’re right. I’m not saying you aren’t. I guess… just, with the other stuff…

The Jordan of it all, and the bits Zay doesn’t know. The potential of Isa; the warm familiarity of this town and its colorful cast of characters.

Farkle: Lame, maybe, but I kind of thought being back here with the cohort would be the same as before. More… stable. I don’t know.

Zay gets it. Honestly, he does. Not just because he’s human, and the allure of going back to what you know is one of the oldest, most base desires in the book, but because he knows the impact a toxic relationship can have. How it leaves you hollow, sends you searching for ways to bring back that feeling of purpose and joy again. He may not have all the context to Farkle’s current headspace, but he has that much.

Zay: Hey, I mean, I don’t think you’re making the wrong decision. Going back. Farkle: No? Zay: Nah. For one, yeah, the idea of getting to spiritually go back to Adams is nice, but it’s not that simple. I don’t know who you’re counting in your “cohort,” but most of us aren’t even going to be here in the coming weeks, months, etc. Lucas is dipping -- and Riley is going with him, apparently. Farkle: Right… Zay: Nigel might be jumping across the pond if he can hack it. Yindra and Jade and Maya -- I assume -- are going back to the west coast. Farke: And you’ll be…? Zay: Nice try. My point is, I get where you’re coming from. Really, I do. But it’s never gonna be that again. Triple A… it was good, when we had it. I wouldn’t trade it for anything. But it’s done now. We’ve gotta get used to working with… whatever version of our cohort we’ve got now. It wouldn’t be as easy as just hopping a flight back home.

That’s the trick about homesickness. Usually, it’s nostalgia in disguise, and unlike a house, you can’t walk back through the doors of the past. You can hold onto it, cherish the memories, try to nurture what you took with you into the present, but that’s all you can do. You can’t go back, whether you want to or not.

And that feels even more potent when you’re healing from something like Jordan. Zay understands that -- he understands better than Farkle can probably imagine.

Zay: I know how shitty it feels to have the sense that you wasted an entire year of your life. That you lost that time to someone who didn’t deserve it. It sucks. But you didn’t waste that time. And even if you did, so what? You’ve got so much more time ahead to make up for it. Dude, we’re literally at the start of everything. Just because you flubbed your first steps doesn’t mean you’re down for good.

He’s a prime example. He fucked up his start at Adams, and he turned out okay. He has amazing friends. They ended up with Riley. He had the chance to meet the love of his life, and then had the chance to find him again when things fell apart the first time. Life is just a series of starts, over and over again, and the only thing that changes that reality is when you choose not to get back up.

Zay: In short, saccharine aside, you’ll be fine, man. I believe in you.

Somehow, that means everything. It wasn’t easy to earn Zay’s friendship -- and boy, did Farkle flub it too many times to count -- but they’re here now. Somehow stuck together, melodramatic magnets… and somehow, that’s not the worst thing in the world. In fact, Zay might even say he’s glad about it.

Farkle pushes his luck, as per usual, stepping forward to pull Zay into a hug. Zay is startled at first, not used to such blatant affection between them, but after a moment he returns it.

Farkle: Thank you. For believing in me. Zay: You’re welcome. [ a beat ] Don’t make me regret it.

Farkle laughs, sniffling to keep the tears at bay. But he holds on as long as Zay will let him, soaking up his support while it’s tangible in his arms.

He knows when the time comes to head back across the country, he’s going to need it.

INT. NYU - ADVISOR’S OFFICE - DAY

Nigel is wrapping up a meeting with his guidance counselor. He’s finally told them about his intentions to transfer, and thankfully, the counselor is more than willing to help. They’ve outlined all of the steps he’ll need to take in the next semester to hopefully achieve a successful spring change, should all go well, and offered resources for him to dig into during the summer to prepare.

Nigel smiles, offering sincere thanks.

EXT. NYU - CAMPUS - DAY

Nigel emerges from the admissions building, feeling a little lighter. It’s not a salve for everything -- his puzzles and problems to solve are still numerous -- but it’s a start. He’s got the tools now to go for his ambitions, so long as he can rally the courage to follow through.

More than that, he actually stood up and did it. He went and got what he needed, wasn’t afraid to ask for it. Didn’t wait for the perfect moment, or the least amount of friction; didn’t hold himself back until his girlfriend gave him permission or his parents pushed him out the door. He didn’t even need his diva-like friends to nudge him -- or rather, shove him, typically -- into following his own dreams. This time, he did it for himself.

Nigel cares about the unknowns still at play, but he cares about his future too. After such a difficult year, he cares, and that feels like the greatest triumph there is.

Song Cue ♫ ♪ “Golden” as performed by Hippo Campus || Performed by Nigel Chey

Nigel’s solo is pensive, thoughtful, a calm contrast to much of the other performances going on this episode. It’s still in his style, alternative and a little bit unpolished, but there’s a peace to it that he hasn’t really gotten to experience yet.

EXT. NEW YORK STREETS - DAY

As he traverses through the city, making his way back home, it feels like he’s seeing the city in a new light -- less constricting, not looming over him and threatening to topple.

He’s seeing himself differently, too. That’s a recurrent element to the rendition, as he catches his reflection in fountains and glossy shop windows. It doesn’t feel so difficult to look at himself anymore -- it’s starting to feel like he’s actually looking at himself again, whoever that may end up being. For once, the prospect of meeting the new him doesn’t feel so dreadful.

Why is it I want to change for you? Why is it I want to see this through?

More tellingly, although the lyrics to the song could easily be interpreted as sent towards a lover, when Nigel sings it this time, it doesn’t read that way. This isn’t a serenade to Jade, or some theoretical outsider looking in.

When Nigel sings about wanting to see things through, wanting to stop sleepwalking through life with hollowed out feelings, he’s dedicating it to himself.

INT. CHUBBIES - DAY

Riley is grabbing a late afternoon lunch with Josh before he heads back to Los Angeles, the two of them occupying the back corner booth of the diner. With that privacy, and given Lucas isn’t working a shift, Riley feels confident enough to tell Josh about her grand plans to move to California. She might be closer to her uncle before too long.

Josh doesn’t have the same panicked reaction as Farkle, but he’s not as unwaveringly supportive as Eric. Not that he doesn’t trust her instincts -- if she thinks this is what she wants, then okay, he’ll back her -- but it’s the rest of the world he doesn’t trust. She can control herself, yes, but she can’t control other people.

Riley: You don’t trust Lucas. Josh: That’s not what I said. I have no issue with him. When I met him at the wedding, he seemed cool. Kinda weird, but like, that’s all of your friends.

Touché. Riley shrugs, not denying that.

Josh: And I know he likes you. It doesn’t take a lot of observation to pick that up. I’m just saying that with a big choice like this -- and this goes for anything like this -- you need to look out for yourself. Like, have you talked about this with him? Riley: Not yet, but we’re going to. We’re meeting this weekend. Josh: Okay, then, prepare for the fact that he’ll be caught off-guard. He might not react the way you expect him to, at least at first. And because you don’t know how that might go, optimistic as you may be, take measures to protect yourself. I get that you’re not gungho about NYU, but maybe don’t signal to them you’re ghosting until you’re absolutely positive you’re going to California. Like, not just in your soul, but logistically. In concrete, tangible plans. Follow your heart, but don’t shoot yourself in the foot to do it.

Josh wants Riley to do whatever she believes she should do, he just wants her to take care of herself when doing it. It’s fair advice, coming from her thoughtful uncle who may just be a little bit older and wiser than the rest of them.

Admittedly, Riley was getting a bit caught up in the whirlwind excitement of the whole thing. She acknowledges his guidance, agreeing she won’t make any major shifts until she and Lucas are on the same page. Josh can breathe a little easier.

INT. CHARLIE’S APARTMENT - LUCAS’S BEDROOM - DAY

Lucas, on the other hand, is currently on the phone with Dylan and Asher. He explains to them that given Kenneth’s passing, he and Charlie agreed it would make sense for him to move back in with Grace to help her with the apartment as much as he can before his move in a couple months. Not to mention it’ll keep her from being so alone, whether she’d ever admit to feeling that way or not.

Speaking of that move, though… it’s really actually happening! Can you believe it? Although we can’t hear their end of the conversation, based on the way Lucas smiles, it’s clear that Dylan and Asher are being especially cheerleader about this. They’re excited for him, and they hope he’s excited too.

Lucas: Yeah. Yeah, I am. [ a beat ] Did you all see the link I sent to the program website?

He settles onto his stripped mattress as they respond, pulling his chunky laptop towards him where that webpage is still up. Even just looking at it makes Lucas smile, although it still feels surreal. He’s going somewhere. He’s actually doing this.

The only con, Dylan thinks, is that he has to face it alone. Lucas scoffs at first.

Lucas: As if I’ve ever had a problem going it alone?

Maybe once upon a time, but Lucas has softened since then, they argue. They know he’ll be fine, and it’ll be great, but it’s just a little sad he can’t bring any of them with him. Part of growing up and branching out, or whatever…

Well, maybe not quite. Dylan’s innocent commentary sends an unsettling shiver through Lucas as he remembers the fact that he may not be so alone after all. If Riley’s plans come to fruition, she’ll be dropping all of her various goings on here to trek across the country with him.

Lucas still isn’t sure how he feels about that concept -- which is even more confusing, since he figures it should be simple. He should be happy. He loves Riley, so it should be thrilling. It should be easy.

Lucas: What? Sorry. No, yeah, I’m still here. 

But not for long. And unless he gets his mind together, Riley may not be either.

EXT. COLUMBIA UNIVERSITY - CAMPUS - DAY

Meanwhile, a stone’s throw away from Barnard where Riley once had her eye and just a stretch from Adams, Columbia University sits nestled in the heart of the upper west side. A beautiful, picturesque campus somehow interwoven into the concrete jungle, feeling just as classic Northeastern collegiate as its Ivy siblings and boasting the academic credentials to match.

This is where we find Charlie, standing by the fountain on the main thoroughfare through the center of campus. Looking around at it all, soaking up the view, breathing in the essence of what the (at least) next four years of his life are going to be like.

Yes, Charlie is attending Columbia University, starting in the fall. Based on the effortless smile on his face, he feels pretty good about that decision.

Zay, off-screen: Literally, how did they even fit this in here? It’s like they dropped a stuffy Harvard anvil on Harlem’s toe.

Charlie’s smile widens as he shakes his head, spinning around to face Zay. He’s brought him along to show him the campus, sharing where he’ll be spending the foreseeable future while Zay is going to be wherever he is in the meantime.

Zay doesn’t seem all that wowed, but that’s not surprising given his disdain for school. Honestly, it’s difficult to tell how much of his aloofness is genuine versus just playing it up for the bit.

Charlie: Columbia has been here for a long time. Way before Chubbies, and Adams, at least. Zay: Now you’re just lying. Chubbies is a historic landmark. It was circa the same era as the Egyptian pyramids. Don’t disrespect. Charlie: And isn’t this exactly the sort of place you’d expect someone like me to end up? Great place to foster Acute Nerd Disorder, don’t you think? Zay: You said it, not me…

Charlie feels compelled to defend his decision, enthusiastically launching into all of the positives about the school. The history, the commitment to academic rigor. The fact that he doesn’t have to leave the city; that it has so many different areas of study all with glowing recommendations.

Charlie: One reason I chose it is because it has a respected dance program, if I decide to go that route. But all of its departments are strong, which is something I wanted, since I don’t know what I want to do yet. History, English, education -- Zay: What did you sign up for as your starting major again? Charlie: English with a concentration in classic lit and a double minor in history and dance. Zay: Figures. Charlie: But that’s just to get my foot in the door. You know, give myself time to figure out what exactly I want to pursue. And with the options here -- I mean, you saw the course catalogue! Being here, I think I can really --

Yeah, this is nice promotional fodder and everything, but it all means nothing to Zay. There’s really only one thing he cares about, the only criteria that matters to him as to whether Charlie should spend another second of his life on it. He gently interrupts his rambling.

Zay: Are you happy?

The question is effective, bringing Charlie to a halt. He pauses for a moment, really thinking about it…

Then the smile is back. Bright, beautiful, breathtakingly real.

Charlie: Yeah. Yeah, I am.

Zay mirrors it. It’s so good to see that smile -- to know it’s genuine. That’s all that matters to him.

Zay: Then it’s good.

High expectations and Ivy pride be damned. Charlie’s grin brightens, absorbing the blessing for all its worth.

Anyway, Zay better get used to spending time in nerdom. Charlie closes the distance between them and comes to join him, taking his hands and reminding him that he’ll probably be getting decently familiar with this campus too in the coming years. That is, if he intends to visit him at all.

Which he will. Because we finally getting one piece of confirmation surrounding the mystery of Zay and Charlie, even if Zay’s exact status remains elusive…

They’re not splitting up. No matter what Zay intends to do. No breakups on the horizon for them, not if they can help it.

Distance or no distance, Zay and Charlie are staying together.

So yeah, Acute Nerd Disorder exposure is part of the package. Zay rolls his eyes, but steals a kiss immediately after, so he’s clearly not that put off about it. If it’s Charlie, then it’s worth it.

Academia doesn’t resume torture for another couple months, though, and as cute as this little prison tour is, Zay has some better ideas about how they could be spending their afternoon. Sure, they could continue to trudge around campus and see all the academic sights… or they could hop the train back to Charlie’s and engage in more troublesome fun. Doesn’t that sound way more appealing?

He initiates another kiss, this one slower and more suggestive, and Charlie smiles against his lips just because he’s so darn transparent.

Zay: So? What do you want to do?

Ain’t that always the question? At least Charlie feels empowered to decide these days. He contemplates for a moment, letting his gaze flit down to Zay’s lips. As if he’s seriously considering giving in…

But then he smirks, Catholic demon as ever, and pulls away. Slipping from Zay’s grasp, walking backwards and challenging him to follow. Because it’s the two of them, and it’s more fun to draw things out -- and it’s never as simple as Zay wants it to be.

This time, though, the cosmic teasing is in their control. They make the rules now. So when Zay sighs, he’s not actually mad, and the smile still on his face gives him away.

What does Charlie want to do? Well… as the upbeat, iconic pop instrumental kicks in…

Song Cue ♫ ♪ “Cut To The Feeling” as performed by Carly Rae Jepsen || Performed by Charlie Gardner & Zay Babineaux

If you can believe it, it’s actually been a full two seasons since we had an authentic, full-blown dance duet between Zay and Charlie. The last time was “Rewrite the Stars,” poetically, and that pas de deux was far more tragic than this return to form.

With this performance, the two of them did manage to defy expectations and chart their own destiny, so they’re free to be what they are. Enthusiastic, enlivened, full of energy and passion and fully enamored with one another. It’s a duet that is undeniably, unequivocally earned, and it feels all the more powerful because of that.

Charlie takes the opening verse, taunting Zay to follow his lead, which pulls them into a continued tour of the Columbia campus. But the focus is less on the school now, and more on them. Instead of making the jaunt about the university, it acts more as a backdrop for their choreographed back-and-forth. A shifting and changing set piece to their production, rather than the star.

Which makes sense -- when it’s Zay and Charlie, when the two of them really get to dance together, there’s no competition.

The playful nature persists throughout, a refreshing change of pace given their history. It feels more true to them, a promising representation of what their dynamic is allowed to be when both of them are at their best -- when they’re allowed to be themselves. Both of them -- especially Zay -- try more than once to steal a kiss, but the other swerves at the last second, nudging the teasing along just a bit longer. And as expert and sharp as their choreography is, there’s a looseness to it as well. The ease and fluid motion that comes from natural chemistry, totally uninhibited trust.

The most direct callback to the rendition’s spiritual predecessor happens at the bridge, when Zay and Charlie come together close again. Zay spins Charlie towards him and they bring each other close, foreheads pressed together as they move. A mirror image to how they were during the bridge of “Rewrite the Stars,” when the two of them were at odds and seconds away from falling apart.

The duets are equally emotional, but this time, it’s unbridled joy rather than despair. This time, they’re on the same page, walking in the same direction, and they’re no longer asking the universe for permission.

Take me to emotion, I want to go all the way Show me devotion and take me all the way

It’s not impossible. They proved it. Now, all that matters is what they want.

Charlie takes the belt at the end of the bridge, pulling back but keeping their hands locked together as he pulls Zay off again --

EXT. COLUMBIA UNIVERSITY - ROOFTOP - DAY

And they arrive on the roof of one of the campus buildings, just as the song implies, to finish out the final chorus. The sunset and horizon of their city behind them, choreography as strong as ever and smiles almost damningly radiant.

As the song comes to an end, and Charlie exhales the final repetition of the chorus, Zay finally wins. He spins Charlie back towards him and this time, he doesn’t slip away, rewarding Zay with a passionate, blissful kiss.

Exactly where the two of them belong. Amen.

Imani, pre-lap: So Zay isn’t going to do this tour?

INT. KITCHEN - NIGHT

Yindra is currently cooking dinner with her grandma, IMANI (70s), the one who hosts her when she’s home in the city. She’s short and stocky, stern and no-nonsense, but so full of love for her kin and community it cuts through even when she’s trying to be her most intimidating. Yindra is about half a foot taller than her, but you can see the resemblance, particularly in how both women carry themselves.

Another thing they have in common is being nosy, so yeah, Imani also wants the Zay tea. But just like everyone else, Yindra doesn’t have anything to give her.

Yindra: I don’t know. He hasn’t told us anything. Imani: Well, if he’s snuggling up to this white boy like you describe, then you’d think he’s made up his mind. Yindra: You’d think, but no. Zay and Charlie are just… like that. It’s legit with them. [ a beat ] Also, they’re both crazy. Imani: Hmph. Seems to run through that school of yours. Yindra: Tell me about it. But you’d like Charlie. He’s a good Christian fella -- a real one.

That does seem to actually win Imani over a bit. Yindra is distracted from chopping onion when her phone buzzes on the countertop.

Another update.

“This email is to inform you that ⅖ spots have officially been accepted in the group. Our time and opportunities are limited, so please respond with your decision as soon as possible.”

The clock keeps ticking down. She’s running out of time. Imani notices the distress in her features, asking what’s the matter. Nosy, yes, but protective too.

Yindra gives her the summary, explaining the opportunity and the offer on the table. Imani seems skeptical, just by nature, but Yindra does take care to give a balanced take and highlight the genuine pros of a career move like this. It is a potential game-changer, and she is excited about it. Mostly. There’s just this part of her, the distrusting, defensive part, that feels like she should be on her guard. And right now, she doesn’t have a ton of time to debate with that side.

Yindra: I just… wish there was a way to guarantee it would be worth it. That I could know I was going to get something out of it before signing my life away to this group.

Imani points out that whatever the contract is, it likely won’t be lifelong -- legally, that is. But she understands Yindra’s hesitation. In fact, if she could have it her way, Yindra wouldn’t do it.

Yindra: Wait, seriously? Do you mean that? Imani: Yes! If I could have it my way, you’d stay right here in this apartment. You wouldn’t leave it. You would be safe, and protected, and you wouldn’t ever go out and see anyone or do anything. You’d be fully defended, full-time, and then these old bones could finally get some sleep at night.

Okay, so. She’s making a point. Yindra sighs, earning a mischievous smile from Imani.

Imani: I’m not entirely joking, you know. I do feel that way, in my gut. I’m sure Darius would say the same thing if he had to tell the truth. Your mama, too, if she were here. Yindra: Yeah, well, she isn’t. Imani: No, she is not. Because she had dreams she needed to pursue. I am not saying I agree with those choices -- you know she and I have a lot to debate -- but that’s life. That’s the part about raising kids they don’t truly tell you about, the bit where you have to let them fall out of the nest. Yindra: Fall? Not… I don’t know, spread their wings and soar? Imani: You can hope, but you don’t know. Even flying starts as a leap of faith.

Point is, Imani shares Yindra’s fears and reservations. Especially for a place like Hollywood. It’s good, she thinks, that Yindra is trying to really consider the consequences of what this choice might hold. And if she could dissuade her from this dream entirely, well, she would.

Yindra: But… Imani: But, your life is yours. Not mine. And this dream you have, this talent… it is immense, Yindra. It is meant to be shared with the world. I remember the first time you took a solo at church choir, and you brought the house down with those vocal chords of yours. I turned to your papa and I said, “Dari, that little girl is going to put us all through our paces.” You were born to push the limits, to shine beyond all this. [ a beat ] If this girl power thing is the first step on that path, well, then I’ll prepare to buckle up.

But she can do it. Imani knows she can. And if Yindra hates it, or decides it isn’t for her, then she has little doubt that this little girl with the big voice can find another way forward. Nothing has managed to stop her before.

Yindra smiles, touched. She reaches forward and wraps Imani in a hug.

Yindra: I love you, Mimi.

Imani allows it for a moment, hugging her back… then she clears her throat, nudging Yindra back to work.

Imani: These vegetables aren’t going to chop themselves!

Yindra laughs, relenting and getting back to work. On the counter, her phone still lingers on that open email.

Three spots left…

INT. HART APARTMENT - NIGHT

Maya is battling similar uncertainty about the future, scratching out lyrics in her songwriting notebook in frustration. She has one chance to save her downward spiral, to resuscitate her career before it ever really got to start. She’s mad at Justin and Melissa for letting this happen, for doing this to her; she’s mad at herself for letting it happen.

She’s mad at herself for doubting, even for a moment and even now, that this is what she’s born to do.

Katy comes to join her, bringing a cup of warm tea. She figured Maya might need it, since she’s clearly been working hard since she got home.

While she has her, Maya takes the opportunity to ask for Katy’s advice. She avoids any of the nitty-gritty details of her current career status -- if the idea of telling anyone what happened at the retreat is hard, having to confess to her mom is downright unfathomable -- but focuses instead on her current predicament. If she had one shot to put herself out there, to make a song that would be her Hail Mary, what would she do? How would she approach it?

Maya: Because right now, all I’m ending up with is a lot of scathing lines and a deep derision towards any variation of the word “haute.”

Katy laughs, then contemplates the question. She surely agrees Maya doesn’t need to do another “O.M.G.,” as she’s proven she’s an ace at that. She could pull off diva in her sleep. And that’s not guaranteed to make any waves -- she already rode that with her breakout drop.

Instead, Katy comes back to her tried and true advice, the sentiments she’s been teaching her daughter the entire time. Share some authentic. Something true. The same basis for why she thinks the best emotions come through when you’re sharing it as a duet.

Katy: This is your chance to leave an impact, right? So let them see something real. I know that badass, hard-working star is who you are, but there’s so much more than that in this heart of yours. [ tapping her chest ] Let people hear that. If you speak from that, baby, I promise, people will listen. With a voice like yours, it’s impossible not to.

With that, she’ll let her get back to the craft. Maya thanks her, giving her a quick kiss on the cheek before she departs. Once she’s alone again, Maya lets that guidance sink in, trying to decide what to do with it.

Lord knows she has plenty of emotion roiling through her right now. But no way is she writing about the Hollywood drama -- both out of self-preservation and out of pride. She doesn’t want to write a love song; those may sell, but that’s not true to her. That’s not real Maya Hart. It won’t ring true, not when it counts.

So what exactly is she meant to do?

EXT. APARTMENT BUILDING - DAY

Yindra is waiting outside Nigel’s building the next morning, impatiently waiting. She taps her feet and dances in place, seemingly possessed by an anxious energy she can’t shake off these days.

She gets another notification on her phone, and though it sends dread through her, this time it’s just a text. From Jade:

“Thanks again for this. I’ll text when we’re good to go”

No other context, and Yindra doesn’t get the chance to respond to offer any to us. Because like a sneak attack, another email comes through right after.

“This email is to inform you that ⅗ spots have officially been accepted in the group. Our time and opportunities are limited, so please respond with your decision as soon as possible.”

They’re going faster and faster now. Yindra opens her message thread with Aleena, thinking about seeing if she’s one of those three or a remaining holdout, but Nigel pushes out of his building and comes to greet her before she can do anything. She quickly pockets her phone.

Nigel: Hey. Sorry I took a couple minutes longer than expected -- everything cool? Yindra: What? Oh, yeah, no. Just another reminder that my entire future is on the line and ticking away by the second, but all g. I’m aces. Nigel: Yikes. Do you want to talk about it? Yindra: Genuinely? No. Right now, I just want to spend a lovely, chill afternoon hanging out with my lovely, chill bestie before I go back to the sunshine city from hell.

She throws an arm around Nigel’s shoulders. Then she glances up at the sky, eyeing the clouds rolling in.

Yindra: Whatever we do, though, better be strategic. Those clouds do not look promising. [ meeting his eyes ] Maybe we should grab an umbrella.

EXT. SOHO PARK - DAY

This time, it’s just Zachary accompanying Isa on their latest lore stop. Today, they’re in a park we’ve never seen before, something from further back in Isa’s childhood. They’re currently sitting on a bench at a picnic table, looking around at the park. Across the way, a couple of families are playing with their toddler-aged children.

Zachary: It’s a nice spot. Bit of a hidden gem, I’d say. Isa: Valerie used to bring me here. During that brief window of time where she thought she’d be a parent for real -- the first time. I was like, six? [ nodding towards the buildings ] She rented out the penthouse in that building and acted like it was going to be the real deal. She was going to blow this mothering thing out of the water. [ a beat ] Only being a mom isn’t a role you can play. It’s a full-time job.

And, evidently, Valerie wasn’t cut out for that kind of work. Zachary frowns, sympathetic, but doesn’t try to make it better. He’s not really about empty platitudes. It’s one thing Isa likes about him.

Isa: I was back in the system by the next year. But during that time, I’d come here a lot, with or without her. Was just… I don’t know, nice. A good place to think. Be in my own head. [ a beat ] I’ve only ever brought one other person here before. Lucas. I think we were freshmen, and he’d just gotten in trouble at Adams and into this huge argument with Jack for trying to discipline him. It wasn’t pretty. He needed to get out, to blow off steam, so I thought about this. We ditched last period and I brought him here.

And that was that. Other than that, she’s kept her distance, kept it sacred… until now.

Zachary: I can see why you’d want to protect it. Isa: [ blurting it out ] This terrifies me, you know. What we’re doing. Like, I’m happy about it -- so fucking happy, believe me. I can’t believe it’s worked out how it has, in spite of the hiccups. Most of which, classically, were my fault. Zachary: I’m happy about it too. Isa: But it’s scary. It’s so fucking scary. Because like… now you, and Ruby, and the kids… you’re like, in it. You’re in my life. You’re seeing all these parts, and pieces, and becoming a part of it too. [ swallowing ] And that means you can leave. You can take it all away just as easily as you came. And I’ve had a lot of that in my life already, and it’s just… so not worth the possibility. Usually, it isn’t. I’m seriously not good about people leaving me behind.

Given the history, it’s not hard for Zachary to imagine why. Isa takes a deep breath, reining the emotion back in. They can do this. They can have this conversation.

Isa: I’m getting better about it. You know, with time. And therapy -- therapy is good. But it’s still… it’s not easy. And I’m not gonna be perfect about it. I know you aren’t either. I just wanted you to know… all of that. Why I’m kind of a mess. There’s a lot of reasons, honestly, but like… when Val was coming back into my life, I thought I’d get better. I thought I’d get over it. Then she left again, forever, and now it’s like…

That fear is so real. How fast people can disappear -- no matter how much you love them. Zachary nods, allowing Isa the space to express it.

After a quiet moment, he speaks.

Zachary: I understand. I don’t think that fear is strange or messy at all. Especially with what you’ve been through -- something I contributed to.

Isa exhales, swiping at their eyes.

Zachary: And to be honest with you, I can’t make any promises that I will always be around. Not because I don’t want to be, but because neither of us knows what the future holds. There is a lot about life that I can’t control, and neither can you. Some of the hardest parts of life to me are just… accepting that. Embracing the things you cannot change, letting go of the need to have it all exactly how you want it. I know it’s not easy, trust me.

No kidding. Isa nods, meeting his eyes.

Zachary: But I promise you, for what I can control, I will always keep you in mind. I will always want you to be in my life. I’ve already missed nineteen years of it, and now that we’ve got it somewhat figured out, I don’t intend to miss much more. Whatever you want to share with me, whatever is in your control to share, I will take it. I can give you that much.

And he will, happily. They’re family now, even if they’re still figuring out what exactly that means.

Zachary: It took me long enough to learn about your existence, let alone know it. Now that I know you, Isa, I certainly don’t intend to let you go. Not if I can help it.

That reassurance is all Isa wanted to hear. They manage a smile, watery as it is. Zachary reaches out and affectionately ruffles their hair, a gesture so awkward dad and yet so perfect for the moment that Isa can’t help but laugh in spite of the heaviness.

It’s progress. They’re on their way.

And from what they can control, they think they’ll be okay.

INT. APARTMENT BUILDING - DAY

Nigel and Yindra have made it back safe and sound before the downpour, the latter shaking out their shared umbrella as they head down the hall towards the Chey apartment.

Nigel: You know, you really didn’t have to walk me home. Or all the way to my door. I have walked home many a time before. Yindra: Um, babe, yes I did. You’re a flight risk these days, didn’t you know? I take my eye off you too long, before I know it, you’ll have split and disappeared into some Shakespearean cult in the wilderness of Maine. [ shaking the umbrella pointedly ] You know they’ve got killer clowns up there, right?

Okay, now she’s being weird. Nigel cuts her a look, accenting her bizarre behavior, but no point in arguing with her now that they’re at his doorstep.

In a second, it’s all about to make sense anyway. Yindra bites her lip to hold back a smile --

INT. CHEY APARTMENT - DAY

As they walk right into a surprise waiting for them, Nigel’s entire family accosting him with a greeting the moment he steps back through the door.

All: Surprise!

Nigel is certainly effectively surprised -- and a little panic-stricken. He just about jumps out of his skin and has to take a second to come back to Earth, placing his hand on his chest to calm his heart. Yindra is almost giddy with glee behind him, both thrilled and amused by his reaction.

Once he manages to keep himself from having a heart attack, Nigel gets a better look at what exactly he’s walked into. His whole family is there -- yes, including LEONA CHEY, without any grumpiness to be seen -- as well as Zay and Riley. They’ve basically thrown together a little party, a clearly Riley-made banner strung along the ceiling that reads “London Bound!” and a traditional Filipino cake on the table in the kitchen his mother clearly baked for the occasion.

Then there’s Jade. In the middle of it all, that creative twinkle in her eye, smiling right at him with absolutely no hint of upset.

It’s kind of hard to wrap his head around. Nigel blinks, resisting the urge to rub his eyes.

Nigel: What is all this? Reyna: Word may have finally trickled down to us that you officially talked to your counselor about the transfer. Leona: No thanks to you. Were you just not going to tell us? Liezel: But we were planning this before that. Jade called us, when you were abroad, to plan the whole thing out. Once you told her, she couldn’t wait.

Oh? Nigel lets his gaze drift back to Jade, who steps forward to meet him in the middle.

Nigel: You’re not mad at me? Jade: [ with a shake of her head ] Mm-mm. Nigel: But you were. You definitely were. Jade: Mm… not mad. Surprised, yes. Caught off-guard, yes. You could’ve gone about telling me better. Nigel: No delusions about that, believe me. Jade: But after I thought about it for longer than a split-second reaction… no. Of course not. This makes total sense. And if it feels right to you, following your passion, then it has to be good. Who am I to stand in the way of that?

So no, they’re fine. They’re going to be fine. Nigel exhales, relieved, and pulls her into a hug. She returns it, tightly, happy to be back in his embrace.

Then he realizes something, pulling back and giving her a look. She keeps her arms around his neck.

Nigel: So you weren’t icing me out this whole time, you were just holding me in suspense? For the hell of it? Jade: Think of it as payback. Besides, it felt appropriate -- I know you like a little bit of Shakespearean drama.

Oh, she is so… and he is so, so lucky. He can’t help but smile, shaking his head and stealing a quick kiss.

Leona: Ew.

But the party wasn’t the only trick she had up her sleeve. The group of them have been conspiring, and their results are something his parents are obviously eager to share with him. Jade takes his hand and guides him over to join them.

Ernesto: We know that even if you do this, if you manage to get accepted -- Zay/Riley: He will. Yindra: Hell yeah. Ernesto: Then it’s not going to be a cake walk. There will be financial matters to figure out. Hopefully, scholarships will do a lot of that for us. Yindra: Hell yeah. Liezel: But just in case -- we’ve pulled together a little something. As a team effort. We -- Reyna: Jusko, Liezel, just give it to him already! I’ll drop dead before you do at this rate!

All of them erupt into laughter, LIEZEL CHEY relenting. She reaches behind her near the cake and retrieves an envelope, holding it out for Nigel to take. He does, uncertain, eyeing the group of them before unsealing it and discovering what’s inside.

It’s a balance ledger from their bank, congratulating him on the opening of his brand new savings account. A different one than the one he’s had with his parents as co-signers since he was thirteen; one with more money than he’s ever actually had on his own pocket.

The starting balance is well over a couple thousand dollars. He stares at it, mouth dropping open.

Nigel: What -- what is this? [ to his parents ] This isn’t yours, is it? You need --

Liezel shakes her head, smile bright, while Ernesto pulls her close into a side hug.

Ernesto: It’s yours. We may have done a bit of last-minute community fundraising in the past week or so -- Reyna: All Jade’s idea. And with help from a genius like Riley -- instant success! Riley: I may have plugged some of my connections in the campaign world and tossed a word to my mom’s rich law friends. Zay: I passed word around Turner. Yindra: I did nothing because I have no money and no friends with money, but I provided moral support. Liezel: And we reached out to everyone we knew. Ernesto: They all know how much this means to you, how much you love doing this. When we told them your dream, they did not hesitate.

It certainly won’t cover everything, not even close. But it’s something. It’s a bit of cover, a safety net for a rainy day when he ends up thousands of miles away on his own.

And still more than that, too. Nigel turns his gaze back to Jade, welling up. She smiles, also a little choked up at his reaction.

Jade: I wanted you to see how many people believe in you. How many of us know this is what you’re meant to do. That there are so many people who will do everything they can to help you get there. Every step of the way. 

Nigel exhales, stepping forward again and pulling her into an even tighter hug. She returns it just as enthusiastically.

Nigel: I love you. Holy shit. Liezel: Nigel. Jade: [ with laughter ] I love you too.

Reyna swipes a tear from her eye, so very happy to see how far Nigel has come. Riley hugs Zay close, Yindra dogpiling on their embrace and throwing her arm around both of their shoulders.

When Jade and Nigel pull apart, he directs that gratitude all around.

Nigel: I love all of you. Seriously. Thank you. [ voice cracking ] Thank you for being my family.

There’s nothing else he’d rather be. Liezel starts to cry, meeting him in the middle for a hug that Ernesto joins. Before long, it’s a full-on group hug, everyone crowding around Nigel and wrapping him in a warm embrace. Even Leona, who Reyna pulls into the pile with only a little adolescent reluctance.

Love, all the way around and all the way through.

EXT. MINKUS BUILDING - DAY

Love isn’t always as gentle as a summer breeze, though. Sometimes, it’s a hurricane, torrential and unpredictable -- and it can leave you with battle scars.

The rain is certainly threatening torrential now, falling in sheets off the side of the building and creating a symphony of splatters on the sidewalk. Even so, Isa waits, just barely sheltered under the extended edifice of the building over the driveway. They’re sitting on the steps outside the revolving doors, teeth chattering from the wind and arms crossed tight around their knees. It’s not clear how long they’ve been out there.

But what is clear is that they’re not going anywhere. Not until they get the chance to see him again, to say their piece. They’re not going to throw away their one shot to make this right.

Thankfully, they don’t have to wait much longer, but that’s about where the good news ends. Farkle steps outside with his suitcase, scanning for the Minkus car and spotting Isa on the steps instead. For a moment, he just stares, seemingly unable to comprehend that they’re actually there.

Then the driver comes dashing out from the car to take his bag, and it blows his cover. Isa catches the movement, then realizes where the chauffeur is heading, whipping to look over their shoulder and seeing Farkle standing there like a deer in headlights. They scramble to their feet just as the driver takes his bag, stumbling up the steps to reach his level.

Farkle starts to follow the driver down as if they’re not there, like he didn’t see them, but Isa isn’t going to play those games. Not today. Not when it matters this much.

Isa: Farkle. Farkle, wait!

He does, as if bewitched by their voice. He freezes in his retreat, screwing his eyes shut and making a point of staying faced away. He doesn’t trust himself if he looks them in the eye; he doesn’t know what he might say, or what might come spilling out of him that he can’t control.

They have to speak up, more so than usual, because the rain is making an uproar of its own. 

Isa: Are you leaving already? Farkle: Yes. The jet leaves JFK in an hour. [ swallowing his emotion ] So if you’ll excuse me -- Isa: No, don’t --

Isa steps forward, closing some of the safe distance between them as Farkle goes still again. God, why is it so hard to walk away from them?

Isa doesn’t waste the brief opportunity. They take a deep breath, willing the words to come out when they need it to most. When it matters, right now, in spite of the rain and the chill and the way they’re trembling for reasons other than the weather.

Isa: You have to know I didn’t mean it. The stuff I said at the wedding.

Farkle winces, twisting his mouth into a line. When he responds, his voice comes out shaky.

Farkle: I don’t know what you mean these days. Been getting a lot of mixed signals. When I get any at all. Isa: I know. I know, and I’m sorry about that. All right? I haven’t been -- I don’t know how to handle this shit. I barely know how to handle any shit, but I’m working on it. This, though… I’m making it up as I go. And I know that sucks, and it isn’t fair, especially because this is the one thing that… [ come on, speak ] That actually matters. This is when it all really matters.

Sure sounds like saying just the right thing… and yet, somehow, that almost hurts more. Because how many times has Isa said something that totally knocked Farkle over, that took his breath away, only for it to be ripped away before too long?

Isa: But you have to know that what happened at the wedding wasn’t how I feel. I know you know that. Farkle: I don’t think you can speak for me. Isa: Farkle, come on. It was just… there was so much going on, and it had been an… insane day. I was so overwhelmed, and it just… I just shut down. But that doesn’t mean that’s what I felt. You have to be fair to me, too. Farkle: [ with a scoff ] Fair? Isa: Will you just look at me? If you do, you’ll look me in the eyes and see that I’m not -- Farkle: I can’t. [ shaking his head to himself ] I can’t. You know what that means, right?

Woof. Okay. Low blow, but perhaps earned. Isa can feel their resolve cracking, can feel that disgusting sense of shame and tears billowing up in their chest, but they force themselves to hold it together.

Isa: Farkle, please. Can we just talk about this? Farkle: I don’t think there’s anything more to say. Isa: Stop. Don’t be like that. There is, and we can work it out. We just -- if you’ll just listen -- Farkle: I can’t. I have to go. I have a plane to catch. Isa, frustrated: You’re not catching anything, you’re taking a private jet.

Regardless, Farkle seems set on his choice. He is going to walk away from them, from this, without even trying to put it back together. And that feels so damning to Isa, so unbearable a possibility, that they lunge forward without thinking and try to take his hand.

Isa: Farkle, please -- Farkle: No!

He yanks away from them, nearly stumbling down the step beneath them. Isa backs off, unprepared for the intensity of his response. He does grant their earlier wish, though, spinning around to face them but keeping a comfortable space between them. It doesn’t feel smart to get any closer -- not when emotions are running high like they are now.

Farkle: I can’t, Isa. I can’t do it anymore. I can’t handle another conversation, where we say the same old things but go nowhere. Where you tell me things I want to hear, because you know I want to hear them, but that’s all it is. Empty words. Hot air. Isa, quiet: [ with a shake of their head ] That’s not what it is. Farkle: Because I can’t -- [ voice cracking ] I can’t keep doing this. I can’t keep putting my heart on the floor, like some sick, sacrificial lamb, just to watch it get crushed. Over and over and over again, by people that I am desperate to have put it on a pedestal. I can’t keep… tearing myself apart for other people, people that I -- [ unable to finish it ] only to end up like this. Feeling like this. It’s hard enough living in my own head, the way God threw it together. I can’t keep holding my breath waiting, and living for, the promise that it’s real. I’m not gonna survive it.

So no. He doesn’t want to hear what they have to say. Even though that pathetic, sensitive side of him is dying to hear them out, to let them back in, they can’t do it anymore. He’s simply not strong enough. Sorry if that’s pitiful, or makes them feel like shit, but it’s the truth. This is where they’ve ended up.

And that’s not entirely Isa’s fault -- there’s certainly a large Jordan-shaped shadow looming over all of this -- but they contributed. Even though they wish they hadn’t; even though every inch of them is begging for that to change. They want to make it better. They do.

Isa: Farkle…

But they can’t. Not this time. Farkle simply shakes his head.

Song Cue ♫ ♪ “The Winner Takes It All” as performed by Mamma Mia! Original Movie Cast || Performed by Farkle Minkus (starting at 00:30)

[ Lyrics specific to characters -- follow along here! ]

Farkle launches into the ABBA and musical theater bombshell with the emotional aplomb it deserves, guaranteeing that we’re in for a juggernaut (as if Farkle Minkus is capable of delivering anything else).

I don’t want to talk about things we’ve gone through Though it’s hurting me, now it’s history

He starts off soft, still reluctant to even broach the surface of all these emotions -- of Isa -- but running out of places to turn with Isa basically forcing his hand. Kind of just like the mirror image of him at the wedding, though of course in the heat of the moment, that irony is lost on them.

EXT. MINKUS BUILDING - SCULPTURE GARDEN - DAY

Unfortunately, the lyrics are almost perfect for them, just with a few minor tweaks to really bring it home. We dig deeper into them as Farkle moves from a fragile first rendition of the chorus into the next verse, transitioning to the sculpture garden around the back of the towering building. It’s sheltered underneath another extension of the building, so it keeps them dry for now.

Farkle traipses through the classic and modern statues as he moves through the next few bars, using them as a shield to keep safe distance between him and Isa. Isa, who is desperately trying to keep up, but turned all around in this terrain they’re unfamiliar in. In every shot, something about the scenery separates them, keeping them abstracted from one another -- ripples in a reflecting pool; a blockish structure directly framed between them; them almost catching a glimpse of one another, but not entirely, partially hidden and blended into a similarly posed piece of artwork.

EXT. MINKUS BUILDING - DAY

Until we get to the bridge. When it hits, we end up back where we started, Isa chasing after Farkle around the front of the building. But there’s no more running in circles; the cycle ends here. They make it all the way down the front steps, onto the sidewalk and out into the rain, before Farkle spins around and throws out his final say.

I don’t want to talk! Because it makes me feel sad And I understand -- you’ve come to shake my hand

Farkle is practically spitting the words even with his excellent pitch, caught between a wail and a snarl. So tangled up in several competing emotions -- hurt, anger, lust, confusion -- that it just might tear him to pieces. It makes for a compelling performance, undoubtedly, but hell if it doesn’t ache to watch.

Especially for Isa. They stand in the rain with him, shaking their head. At how wrong he has their intentions; at how little he views himself. At how horrifically this beautiful disaster has spun-out, tragic yet somehow grotesquely fitting for an Icarus and his Dethroned Queen.

(It also, not coincidentally, has quite a few shades of this).

But right now, in this vulnerable a state, even the most loving empathy would just feel like pity. So Farkle takes Isa’s obvious emotion for personal indignation, some of his old pride at least rearing up enough to help him prevail in this last argument. His next words are dripping with sarcasm, even as they’re just on the brink of total emotional fallout.

I apologize if it makes you feel bad Seeing me so tense, no self-confidence But you see…

Then he slams into the final chorus, belting out the titular adage as he whirls away from Isa and leaves them behind. Dashing through the rain towards his getaway car, not able to stomach one more second of the confrontation without risking total collapse.

Isa doesn’t fight him this time. They don’t chase after him. They let him go, because if he’s made anything clear enough, it’s that that is the least they could for him right now.

INT. MINKUS CAR - MOVING - DAY

Farkle slams the car door and slumps back against the seats, immediately descending into tears as soon as Isa is out of sight. He rails into the final, powerhouse notes of the performance, delivering a gut-wrench he hasn’t quite achieved since “Santa Fe.” “Dear John” was up there too, but that pain was different. That pain was righteous, liberating, a musical exorcism in the aim of something better.

This is none of that. This just hurts. Palpably, potently, through every muscle in his body.

EXT. MINKUS BUILDING - DAY

Isa obviously feels the same, given the tears that are streaming down their face. They give up and crumple back on the steps, not sheltered from the rain, hiding their head in their hands.

EXT. AIRPORT JETWAY - DAY

As the final backing vocals carry us through to the end, Farkle exits the family car and jogs towards the jet waiting on the runway. He doesn’t look back, doesn’t second-guess. Right now, the only thing he wants to be is away.

INT. PRIVATE JET - DAY

As the backing choir winds down and the music dwindles to a simmer, Farkle tosses his backpack aside and collapses into one of the seats. He tilts his head against the window, looking out towards the rain on the runway… and then it really hits him. Slowly, then all at once.

He almost whimpers the last line, voice quickly deteriorating to the tears.

The winner takes it all…

INT. YINDRA’S ROOM - NIGHT

That evening, Yindra is surprised when she receives a text from Kimmy Price. She asks whether or not Yindra is back in Los Angeles yet, or if she’s still in New York on holiday.

Kind of a specific question, but Yindra gives her an honest answer. She texts back that she’s still in New York, and won’t be back in LA until the weekend.

Kimmy answers back surprisingly fast, and with an unexpected twist.

“oooookay that’s perfect!!! i’m actually in nyc right now too and was hoping we could meet up? maybe coffee tomorrow? let me know 😊😊”

Okay… definitely not what Yindra was expecting. What is her competitor doing in New York when she’s from Ohio, for one, but more so why would she want to meet up with her? When everything is so up in the air, and there’s absolutely nothing to gain from it?

But then, why is Yindra so suspicious about it -- does everything have to have an ulterior motive? Is this what the rest of her life is going to be, doubting every friendly face because they might slip poison in her macchiato?

She doesn’t want to live that way. If she’s going to do this, have this career, she isn’t going to become that person. Not if she has any say.

So she responds affirmatively, texting Kimmy an agreement and telling her she’ll send her the address of this place she likes. It’s pretty popular in her neck of the woods.

Kimmy reacts with a heart, which Yindra chooses against her anxiety to take at face value.

INT. JACK AND ERIC’S PLACE - ISA’S ROOM - NIGHT

Rain still pouring outside, Isa makes it back to their room at Eric’s, drenched and exhausted. His place was the first one they thought to go to, even though he isn’t there. It’s safer here, more secure. And right now, after all that, they need solitude to work through this on their own.

They peel off their soaked jacket, their tee at least having been spared the worst of it. They know they should go shower, dry off, maybe just climb into bed and forget it all for the night. But it wouldn’t be so easy -- there’s way too much bubbling up in their chest, in their mind, desperate to be felt. Needing to be expressed. All the things they didn’t get to say, all the reassurances and explanations and simple declarations Farkle didn’t give them the chance to give.

But it has to come out some way. Sometime. Farkle wasn’t ready to hear it now, and honestly, he may not ever be. But Isa has to get it out. They have to express it.

And maybe, in the future, if there’s even a chance…

So they use their words. Isa settles down at their desk and pulls a fresh piece of paper from the drawer, grabbing their pen and starting to write. Pouring everything out into a letter -- the way they’ve learned to do for years now, one of the only therapy tricks that has done them true good. The same method Farkle used a year ago, that ended up detonating at a more opportune -- or perhaps inopportune -- time.

Isa doesn’t hold back. They don’t think they could.

INT. THRIFT STORE - DAY

Once the sun has risen again and the rain has ebbed, Riley is sifting through the racks at one of her favorite spots. Getting her New York fashion fix in before she might not get to enjoy it again for a while. And with important intention, too, as she’s trying to pick out an outfit for her conversation with Lucas.

She pulls a pretty floral dress off the rack, vintage and just a bit quirky, but totally Riley. Excitement sparks in her eyes as she flips it over, checking for any obvious red flags.

Charlie, off-screen: Oh, that looks awesome.

Riley lifts her gaze, smiling as Charlie comes over to join her. As promised, they’re sharing this shopping afternoon.

Riley: You think? Charlie: Definitely. It’s completely your style -- and I’m pretty sure you’re one of the only people on Earth that could pull this off. Zay: Speak for yourself. I’m standing right here.

Zay swings around the side of one of the pillars nearby, standing on the pedestal with the mannequins. Charlie gives him an exasperated -- but fond, always so damn fond -- look.

Charlie: This? You really think you’d look better than Riley in this. Zay: Bet. Give it to me, I’ll try it on right now. Riley: Yeah, no thanks. I don’t need you ripping it with your dancer biceps before I even get the chance to wear it.

Their loss. Zay shrugs, crossing his arms and leaning against the post. If they’re both so confident that this is the right one, though, then Riley doesn’t need much more convincing.

Riley: I’m sold. I think Lucas will like it too -- it’s one of his favorite colors. Zay: Isn’t he colorblind? Charlie: [ ignoring him ] He will for sure. But also like, you’re the one wearing it. That’s all it takes. Zay: Not that he deserves it, but…

All right, that’s enough cheek out of you, Babineaux. Charlie and Riley both shoot him a glare, so he relents, stepping down off the pedestal and coming to join them in between the racks. Although Zay has always had a knack for taking shots at Lucas, Riley is more sensitive than usual right now, so she addresses it head on.

Riley: You don’t seriously mean that, right? I mean, I know he’s not your favorite person. And I know that me moving and everything -- I get why it probably seems like a lot. But are you really that deadset against it? [ eyeing them ] Not that anything you say will have remotely any impact on my decision.

Yeah, that much they both know. Hard to change the mind of Riley Matthews when she’s determined… but her vulnerability shines through anyway.

Zay and Charlie are two of her best friends, two of the most important people in her life, and she trust their judgment. How do they really feel about it, aside from the characteristic digs?

Charlie has no issue, which he’s made clear since Riley told him. He’ll support her choice no matter what, just like she’s always done for him. Zay, on the other hand… both of them look at him pointedly, waiting for him to say his piece.

Well?

After a long moment, Zay sighs. Because no, Lucas is not his favorite person, and yes, he hates the idea of Riley moving so far away (selfishly, that is). But in truth…

Zay: No, I’m not that pressed. It’s what you want, and if makes you happy, then my opinion is pretty much irrelevant. [ a beat ] He loves you. And you love him, for some reason, so…

So no, he’s not going to get in Riley’s way. No, despite his theatricality, he trusts her judgment without hesitation. He loves her, so he’ll always want to protect her, but if this is what she’s decided is the best for her, then who is he to argue?

They both love her, and they will miss her, but it’s Riley’s future. Whatever she chooses to do, they’re behind her. Every step of the way.

Riley smiles, realizing in an instant that she’s about to be so far away from them. Just when she’s finally gotten them back, together and at peace, the way it all belongs. She finds herself tearing up.

Riley: I’m going, and all that, but God, what am I going to do without you guys?

It’s a question all of us are wondering, Riley. Charlie starts to tear up too, because naturally, and Zay shakes his head affectionately.

Zay: Y’all. I swear.

But he doesn’t want to think about it either. So instead he pulls them both into a hug, Riley leaning into it automatically and holding them both close. 

No matter what the future holds, she knows for sure she is never letting them go again.

INT. LUCAS’S APARTMENT - DAY

As mentioned previously, in light of Kenneth’s death, the apartment is going through a bit of an overhaul while they go through his things. Trying to declutter, take some of the stuff out so that Grace isn’t left all alone with it all.

Right now, GRACE FRIAR is going through a box of photos, one that got buried somewhere in the last several years. Rather than too deep into the past, this is more close the present than it seems -- Polaroids from Lucas’s toddler years, right in that delicate time between heaven and hell. When things still felt possible, hopeful, and her love was so bright… but the shadows were always looming just around the corner. It was never quite settled; they never really had peace.

She lifts her gaze when the front door opens, tensing just slightly out of old habit. But it’s only Lucas who walks into the room, giving her a nod. He briefly steps into the kitchen to drop groceries and claims he is working on getting the last of his things from Charlie’s apartment, and apologizes for how he hasn’t been around as much as he hoped.

Grace shrugs, waving off his apologies. No need. There’s no rush, really. When he steps back into the room, she holds out one of the photos for him -- one of the two of them, two-year-old Lucas plopped in her lap, both of them looking gentle and unsure. Not quite sure they’re meant to be there, but making it work anyway.

The spitting image, truly.

Grace: Have you ever seen these?

Lucas shakes his head before he even sees the pictures. They never were big on sharing mementos around here. He takes the Polaroid, looking at it for himself.

Grace: I think Ken took that. Once we actually finally got this couch in here. Lucas: Looks like you don’t want to be there. [ a beat ] Me either.

Grace smiles, slightly amused in spite of the macabre edge to that. Maybe that’s true, but that’s the hand they were dealt.

Grace: And here we are still. [ taking it back ] You’re finally getting to go where you want to be, though.

Lest he forget the strides he’s made, and the freedom they’ve both just begun to explore. Lucas absorbs that, glancing down at the rest of the photographs in the box as Grace sifts through them.

They almost feel fake. Like staged replicas, because of how normal they look. If you flipped through those snapshots, you might be able to believe just for a second that their family was like everybody else.

Lucas: Can I ask you a question?

Grace nods. Lucas knows what he wants to ask -- needs to ask, at this point -- but he finds it hard to put into words.

Lucas: How… I mean… things with dad. [ shaking his head ] How did… Grace: I know what you’re asking.

Lucas meets her eyes, surprised. Does she? She recedes a bit, inherently growing shy, but she pushes forward regardless.

Grace: You want to know how it ended up like this. How did I ever let myself get here?

So she does know. Maybe because she’s asked it herself, numerous times, for much longer than Lucas ever contemplated it. He nods, sheepish.

Grace carefully puts the box onto the coffee table. After a long moment of quiet, she sighs.

Grace: It wasn’t always like this. [ a beat ] I know you probably find that hard to believe. But… it wasn’t. It didn’t start this way. Ken… he wasn’t always this… much. Not at the beginning.

It wasn’t all bad. Like most abusive relationships, it was hard to leave for a reason.

Grace: I loved your dad. And he loved me. Really, he did. And sometimes… it was good. [ delicately emotional ] It was really good.

But not always. Not enough. Not, ultimately, in the ways that matter most. And if you asked her to define when it changed, when the switch flipped -- if it ever actually did, rather than a long, gradual descent into a new kind of normal -- she wouldn’t be able to tell you. When you’re in it, living the day to day, it just sort of happens. Before you know it, that’s where you are.

That’s exactly what Lucas doesn’t want to hear.

Grace shrugs, shaking her head wordlessly.

Grace: So how did I end up here? I don’t know. I fell in love. Then, sometime in the last twenty years… I woke up.

And now they’re here. Survivors, in spite of it all.

Lucas frowns.

INT. HART APARTMENT - DAY

A knock on the door startles Maya out of her meditation, one of her last-ditch efforts to evoke some musical exorcism that’ll give her the hit she needs. She frowns, getting to her feet and calling over her shoulder.

Maya: Mom? Are you expecting someone?

INT. APARTMENT BUILDING - HALLWAY - DAY

It’s not for Katy. When she pulls open the door, Isa is standing on the other side. Surprised she actually opened the door, a hair sheepish, but obviously purposeful in their showing up.

After a moment of shock, though, Maya isn’t the most receptive host. She immediately starts to close the door.

Maya: I don’t have anything to say to you. Isa: Maya, wait! Please.

They hold their arm out, more than prepared to be crushed with a slam of the door. But Maya isn’t so moved by that -- they’re more taken aback by the “please,” the gentle plea from someone who is rarely gentle nor prone to beg. Neither of them are. It’s part of what made them so alike.

So against her prideful instincts, Maya doesn’t shut them out. They open the door a bit further, inviting Isa to make their case. They get one chance, so they better make it count.

Isa: I’m not here to make you like me again. I’m not here to apologize, or explain myself -- not to you. I know it wouldn’t make a difference.

Somehow, Maya seems a bit stung by that. And maybe, just maybe, a little disappointed.

Maya: Then why are you here? Isa: Because you’re the last hope I’ve got. And I’m at the point where I’m not above throwing out Hail Marys.

Okay, slightly intrigued… Isa reaches into their back pocket and retrieves a letter. Sealed with care, Farkle’s name written on the front.

Maya: You have to be kidding me. Isa: It’s all I’ve got left. I need him to know the truth. I had to say it somehow. But I know if I just send it -- if it even makes it at all, the postal service sucks ass -- he won’t open it. Not now. Maya, biting: I wonder why. Isa: You’re right. I know, you’re right, okay, and it’s beyond my good grace to ask for this. I… messed up, big time, and he doesn’t owe me this. Neither do you. Nobody owes me anything.

God, the pride of this must be killing them. Maya can imagine it, like secondhand smoke. Even so, here Isa is, doing it anyway. Because it’s that important to them; because it means that much.

Isa: But I just… I had to say my piece. So that at least I know I tried. At least there’s a chance… [ clearing their throat ] You love him. You love Farkle more than anybody on this planet. I know that. And I know you know him better than anybody.

Maya isn’t going to argue with that. She raises her eyebrows.

Isa: So from one person who cares about him to another… [ turning the letter in their fingers ] You’ll know if he’s ready to hear it. If ever. You can give it to him, whenever it’s okay, and he might actually give it a chance.

Isa meets her eyes, achingly sincere. Vulnerable with Maya, in this moment, in a way they haven’t gotten to be around each other in over a year.

Isa: So, I’m asking you. Just… take this. Whether you give it to him or not, I can’t control that. But I can at least give it every effort I can. Take every chance I have.

So… they hold out the letter, waiting for Maya to accept it. Praying that she will.

Isa: Please.

It’s a pretty impassioned pitch. Maya isn’t immune to a well delivered pitch… and truthfully, even if Isa hadn’t put their entire soul into the sell, Maya probably would’ve taken it regardless. The rift between them may be gaping and growing by the minute, but the ghost of their friendship is still there. The fondness they have for each other still lingers -- is probably always going to linger.

After a beat, Maya takes it, delicate in her manicured hands.

Isa exhales, nodding a silent thank you. Already relieved by the gesture, even if the letter never makes it to its final destination. At least they did everything they could.

Before they can make themselves scarce again, Maya offers one more remark.

Maya: He really loved you, you know.

Just in case they weren’t painfully aware. Farkle loves hard, maybe too hard, and he loved Isa with every ounce of his being. He loved them, and they fucked it up.

They know. God, does Isa know.

Isa: I know… [ shyly ] And I know you did, too.

That’s a confession that actually catches Maya off-guard. Isa’s admittance, after months of growing and time to heal, that they know Maya didn’t mean to hurt them when she left. That they both made mistakes, and mishandled the situation, which brought them where they are now. That regardless of what state they’re in now, the friendship they had before was real -- it meant something, enough to haunt both of them and wonder if it’s ever a possibility they could get it back.

Right now, that’s a no. But the future… well, none of them can know. Maya swallows.

Maya: Bye, Isa. Isa: Yeah. Bye. [ after a beat ] See you around?

Will they… after another contemplative moment, Maya clears her throat.

Maya: Guess we’ll see.

For now, it’s time to close the door. Maya does so, leaving Isa on the other side. They take a deep breath, closing their eyes and willing themselves to be okay with letting go.

INT. HART APARTMENT - DAY

Maya exhales an equally weighted sigh, leaning back against the door. She’s not usually so affected by other people; she isn’t usually so overwhelmed by people she’s dropped from her life. Why is this so different? Why is Isa so hard to shake off?

Because it was love. They loved each other, because of and in spite of their flaws. It was real.

Now it’s gone. Whatever version of them that existed before, it’s over now. They both have to figure out how to move forward -- as individuals, and a shared concept.

INT. APARTMENT BUILDING - DAY

Isa will try. That’s all they can do. As they take their first step onward and leave the apartment behind, and the synth-laden opening notes float in…

EXT. NEW YORK STREETS - DAY

Song Cue ♫ ♪ “You Let Me Down” as performed by Alessia Cara || Performed by Isa De La Cruz & Maya Hart

Isa starts off the emotional duet, stepping out of the apartment building and into the fresh air. Breathing it in, using it to power their march forward. They can move past this -- they have to. There’s no other choice.

Even with the ache, though, the performance is a marked improvement over where they started the season. Now the anger of the unexpected betrayal has ebbed, and they can both think clearly. They can reflect, look back on what happened, see where they both went wrong. They can accept that it isn’t a simple issue of “I’m right, you’re wrong” -- like most relationships -- and that the mistakes they made don’t completely erase the good that they shared.

They loved each other. They let each other down. Those two things can coexist. That’s life.

INT. HART APARTMENT - DAY

Maya picks up the second verse, moving away from the door to head towards the window. She pulls the curtain back, looking for Isa on the streets -- but they’re already gone. The moment has already passed.

It’s time to move on. Maya settles onto the window sill, tilting her head against the pane.

You're elusive and it kills me Inconclusive, never-ending

Whether their story is actually over is hard to say. Neither of them can know right now, in the present moment, what the future might hold. They just have to sit with this, try to wrap their heads around it, find a way to live with it.

They continue to pass the remaining lines back-and-forth split between Maya stoic in the window and Isa’s walk home, bringing a thoughtful and uncharacteristically demure conclusion to their journey for now. Isa takes the bridge, emphasizing the longing for how things used to be.

I will keep it, keep it sacred Like it's golden, wish you nothing But an exhale, and I'm hoping you hear when I say

Then the two of them sing the next line in unison, in balanced harmony, bringing that confession of mutual fault to musical light.

I never meant to let you down

Then we linger with Maya, still looking out the window. She takes the final line, soft and regretful, before the song fades away as softly as it arrived. For a moment, Maya sits in the quiet, heavy with the feeling…

Then it strikes her. This. This is what she’s feeling -- this is the great emotional mystery of her life right now, the one she’s been grappling with and battling and forcing down for an entire year. A cocktail of emotions she’s still struggling to figure out, to untangle the web of pride and loss and warmth and wistfulness knotted in her chest.

Inspiration has arrived like a lightning strike, overwhelming and electric. Maya climbs off the window sill and reaches for her songwriting notebook.

Time to get to work.

EXT. SVORSKI’S COFFEE - DAY

KIMMY PRICE is already at a table outside the familiar coffee spot when Yindra arrives, beaming brightly when she sees her coming. She waves and stands to greet her once she approaches, offering a friendly Midwestern-charm hug. Like they’re already friends catching up, rather than one-off acquaintances who may or may not be in direct competition with one another.

Kimmy: I’m so glad this was able to work out. Feels like fate!

Or maybe a sign… Yindra blinks.

Yindra: Right… yeah, for sure. Kimmy: I haven’t ordered yet, so we can go grab something together whenever you’re ready. Unless they come out and take orders? I’ve never been here before, so. Yindra: No, uh, yeah, usually if they see people at these tables they’ll come take the order for you. Sometimes. I guess we’ll see.

Sounds good. For now, that just leaves the two of them… Kimmy is all smiles, and the crazy thing is, it feels authentic. She’s not throwing on a plastic one for the Hollywood sheen; she doesn’t seem to have something scheming up her sleeves.

She is, for whatever reason, just happy to see Yindra again. It’s that simple.

Kimmy: I’m actually so excited to be here. It’s my first time in the city. Thought I’d take a trip to visit it, in case this all ends up working out and I’m stuck in LA for a long while. I’m a lot closer now in Ohio than I will be. Do you miss New York when you’re on the west coast? Yindra: Um… it’s… they’re different.

True enough. The small talk is nice, and everything, but with the stakes so high, Yindra can’t help but cut right to what she wants to know.

Yindra: Did you hear from them? The execs? Did you get an offer?

She doubts she’d be here talking to her if she didn’t -- that would be truly weird. Her instincts are right, as Kimmy nods enthusiastically.

Kimmy: I did. I accepted basically immediately. I mean, I talked it over with my folks and friends and everything, but it was a no-brainer really. I’m so keen. [ a beat ] Did you? Get an invite?

Yindra hesitates, instinctively holding her cards close to the vest… then she folds. No reason not to.

Yindra: Yeah, I did. Kimmy: Yes! [ with a clap ] I knew it. I knew you’d be one of them. Your voice is way too good not to. And the harmony you had with Tabitha, when you did that high-note, low-note thing in your workshop project?

Clearly, Kimmy was paying attention. And she’s glad to hear her instincts were right -- this is actually the exact reason she was hoping they could meet up on such short notice.

Yindra: You mean you didn’t just want to spend some time with dazzling lil ol’ me? Kimmy: Oh, no, I mean, that too. I’m so excited to bond with everyone. But if you got an invitation -- Yindra: Try to talk me out of it? Kimmy: OMG, no. The complete opposite! If you weren’t already convinced, I wanted to make sure I got the chance to try to win you over.

Oh. Huh. Yindra raises her eyebrows, skeptical, but she doesn’t interrupt or walk away.

Kimmy: The group needs your voice, Yindra. You really are so, so good. And I feel like with your personality, the whole laid-back, cool but bubbly thing -- that’s exactly the balance we need. You have an oomph, and the general public will so be drawn to that. It can add a little fire to the overall picture. I know I certainly don’t add that -- despite the hair, ha ha. Yindra: You’ve really thought a lot about this. You believe in this that much? Kimmy: Of course! A bunch of talented, driven gals coming together to take this world by storm… I mean, why wouldn’t I want to be a part of it?

That’s a good question, Kimmy. Her approach is so wholesome, yet aware, and so unabashedly passionate. It’s kind of refreshing, after all of the doom-and-gloom and the common too-cool-for-school vibe of the industry these days.

Kimmy: I just… I think this could be something. Something really, really great. Call it a feeling, intuition, I don’t know, but I trust it. I’m big on trusting my gut. [ with a grin ] And to have the chance to work with other young women who are so good, and gifted, who care about this as much as I do… I’m not gonna pass that up. Even if it lasts a snap in the grand scheme of things, I’ll take that start any day.

So she hopes Yindra seriously considers joining. Because she does think she is uber talented, some of the best vocal chops they had, and Kimmy would truly like to get her know her better and become friends. Maybe that’s corny, but it’s the truth. Kimmy doesn’t know how to be any other way.

And sometimes, corny works, because she’s kind of reinventing Yindra’s entire perspective on the whole thing right now. Why does it only have to be a potential cage, full of pitfalls and trap doors? Couldn’t there be some hope in it too? Maybe it’s not so much about what the future does or doesn’t have in store for Yindra -- what matters, at the end of the day, is the perspective she takes walking into it.

For now, she isn’t making any promises, but she assures Kimmy she’ll think long and hard about it. And fast, considering the spots are going quick. Kimmy beams.

Yindra: So, uh, I don’t know if they’re ever going to come out here or not. You want to go actually order drinks, or?

Kimmy laughs, nodding. The two of them get to their feet, Yindra opening the door for Kimmy as they step inside the shop.

[ ← Last (Part 1) ] [ 413 Hub ] [ Next (Part 3) → ]

[carewyncromwell]

“Uptown girl --  You know I can't afford to buy her pearls, But maybe someday when my ship comes in, She'll understand what kind of guy I've been, And then I'll win!”

~“Uptown Girl” by Billy Joel

x~x~x~x

Bill Weasley had always had trouble relating to kids his age. As the oldest of seven kids, he’d pretty quickly slipped into the role of support for his mother Molly, parenting and looking after his younger siblings while his father Arthur was at work in the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts office. Even when he was little, there wasn’t really anyone his age in his tiny hometown of Ottery St. Catchpole. All of the other magical families with kids in the area were much younger than Bill, and it was always a tricky proposition trying to play with the Muggle children who lived closest to the Burrow, with the Statute of Secrecy looming large. So when Bill got to Hogwarts, he found himself almost inevitably falling back on how he acted around his younger siblings, even with kids his own age...which, in turn, made Bill lose his footing, when those kids his age didn’t respond well to being coddled or “looked after.” And given Bill’s rather modest, people-pleasing personality, he wasn’t the type to force anyone to listen to him or do what he said...and so, almost inevitably, he found himself at a loss about how to interact with someone without looking after them in some way, on completely equal footing. And thus Bill Weasley, sweet and amiable as he was, actually found himself largely alone in those first two years he spent at Hogwarts -- and that solitude was something he found out pretty quickly he really didn’t like. 

Bill was relieved when his younger brother Charlie started his first year at Hogwarts. Although Bill had trouble admitting to his family just how unhappy he’d been those last two years, the eldest Weasley was secretly relieved that he’d now have some family at school too. He had always been closest to Charlie out of all of his siblings, given their closeness in age, so it was comforting to know he’d at least have one friend to spend time with, when he wasn’t in class. Charlie’s year, however, also included a ginger-haired Slytherin girl called Cromwell -- the same surname as the infamous “delinquent” Jacob Cromwell, who’d been expelled from Hogwarts and disappeared mysteriously a few years ago. 

Bill first heard about Jacob Cromwell’s sister Carewyn through Charlie, who’d heard that she’d stood up to another Slytherin in their year, Merula Snyde, for bullying Charlie’s timid dormmate Ben Copper and even defeated her in a duel with a Disarming Charm, a spell not taught until at least Bill’s year. Despite himself, Bill actually felt a bit relieved -- he hadn’t known Jacob Cromwell at all, but he figured it had to have been really difficult, for someone to lose their only sibling. Even if he didn’t know Carewyn Cromwell at all, he couldn’t help but feel sorry for her...but at least if she was still confident enough to stand up for herself and others, then it probably meant she was doing okay, even with what had happened to her and her family. And his analysis seemed to be confirmed when Carewyn sought Bill out to get his help the following year with breaking the curse on the Ice Vault. From the moment they first met, Bill made up his mind -- Carewyn Cromwell needed someone to look after her, so he would, until she found her brother again. And so Bill and Carewyn became friends. 

In Bill’s fifth year, he was named Gryffindor Prefect. It was a rather obvious choice for Minerva McGonagall, considering Bill’s predisposition to “look after” and mentor younger students, but it still filled Arthur and Molly Weasley with immense pride. It was also the first year that Bill and Charlie invited Carewyn home for the holidays, upon hearing that her mother Lane had been commissioned by the Ministry of Magic for an international assignment and wouldn’t be able to be home in time for Christmas. When he heard Merula Snyde also wouldn’t have anyone to spend the holidays with, Bill made the remarkably kind move to invite her to the Burrow as well, even with Charlie and Carewyn’s misgivings -- but that holiday ended up being one of the best all four of them had ever had. Merula and Carewyn were even able to mend fences enough to sing Christmas carols together, the first’s clear Soprano voice hovering ethereally over the second’s warm, emotional Alto harmonies. That Christmas was also the year Carewyn gave Bill his very first record -- an album called An Innocent Man, by an Muggle artist named Billy Joel. Arthur Weasley was almost more thrilled by the gift than his son was, and he immediately brought out the Muggle record player he’d...”been allowed to take home” from work so Carewyn could show the Weasleys how to play the record on it. And for the rest of the winter break, it wasn’t uncommon for one of the Weasleys to put the record on in the background while doing dishes or playing a game of Wizard’s Chess in front of the fire. The song from the record Bill found himself humming the most, even after returning to Hogwarts, was the first song on side two of the record. He’d liked the tune immediately just because it was fun...but it also reminded him of a girl in his year he’d been trying to muster up the courage to talk to -- a very pretty and daring Gryffindor named Emily Tyler. 

“And when she's walking, she's looking so fine, And when she's talking, she'll say that she's mine... She'll say I'm not so tough, Just because I'm in love with an uptown girl!”

Emily Tyler was the most popular girl in Bill’s year, as well as one of the most popular in Gryffindor house overall. She’d made a name for herself at the Dueling Club, where she remained Gryffindor’s main champion -- it was likely only thanks to Hufflepuff’s own dueling prodigy, Diego Caplan, that Emily had any competition at all. She also was top of her class in Defense Against the Dark Arts, Bill’s favorite and best subject, even managing to Stun an entire flock of bats with one spell. And coupled with that talent was a lot of style, confidence, and ability to captivate and charm others. She never seemed uncomfortable in a crowd and never seemed to be at a loss for words around her peers -- something Bill himself still struggled with. She’d even expressed some interest in Cursebreaking post-Hogwarts, gushing about the acclaim and glamour of the profession. In short, in Bill’s eyes, Emily just seemed amazing -- a bit out of his league, sure...but maybe if he was brave and put himself out there, she might give him a chance!

So one day, right around spring break, Bill passed Emily a note in Defense Against the Dark Arts, asking her to meet him in the castle courtyard. The eldest Weasley was kind of an emotional wreck on the inside, absolutely beside himself with nerves, but he put on his bravest face anyway. He’d even brought a pink rose, which he tried to keep out of sight in his back pocket until Emily arrived. It was the flower that caught Carewyn’s eye, when she was passing through the castle courtyard. 

The third-year Slytherin had been planning on meeting up with Ben and Rowan in the library so they could study up for an upcoming Charms test, but she put that on hold, seeing her friend Bill sitting alone in the courtyard, as if waiting for someone. Normally she would've gone over to say hello, but the pink rose in Bill’s pocket made her give pause -- a fortunate thing too, for not long later, Bill shot to his feet as Emily Tyler entered the courtyard. She was dressed head-to-toe in bright pink, with her dark hair tied up in a high ponytail and her makeup impeccably neat. She wasn’t alone -- several other boys and girls were with her, all talking to her animatedly. They reluctantly waited for her at the edge of the courtyard, their eyes locked on her as she approached Bill. The scrutiny from Emily’s cohorts clearly intimidated Bill, but he didn’t let it rattle him. He faced his crush with the best smile he could.  

“Hi, Emily,” he greeted. “Thanks for coming -- I know you’re pretty busy with the Dueling Club...”

“I am,” assented Emily. Her voice was matter-of-fact. 

Bill gave a weak, uncomfortable laugh. “Well, uh...I won’t take up too much of your time, then. I just wanted to...er...”

He took the pink rose out of his back pocket and offered it to her. Emily blinked down at it in surprise. 

“I wanted to...give this to you,” said Bill with a modest smile. “Pink is your favorite color, I’ve heard. Not that I’ve been eavesdropping on you or anything,” he said very quickly, “I just heard you tell one of your friends that once, last month, and...”

Carewyn felt very uncomfortable, listening to this. Deciding at once that the whole thing really wasn’t her business and that Bill deserved his privacy, she turned to go. She probably would’ve walked away, were it not for how disdainful Emily's voice sounded, when she spoke.

“Is this...some sort of confession?”

Carewyn immediately stopped and turned back around. Emily was looking from her friends on the sidelines to Bill, her face twisted in a very critical, flabbergasted sort of look. 

Bill, to his credit, somehow managed to keep a weak smile on, even as her brought up a hand to rub behind his neck uncomfortably. 

“Well, uh...yes! I guess so. I...was sort of hoping we might be able to hang out sometime...maybe get some butterbeers in Hogsmeade or something -- ”

Emily’s eyes had widened little by little with every word out of Bill’s mouth until, finally, she brought them to an abrupt halt when she started to laugh. 

“You -- you’re serious?” she said incredulously. She glanced over to her friends on the sidelines and then around the rest of the courtyard, as if expecting someone to jump out from behind a nearby pillar. “This is a joke, right? Tell me this is a joke.”

Her laugh and slightly louder voice had caught the attention of some other students close by. Her friends over by the entrance of the courtyard were exchanging disbelieving looks and whispers among themselves. 

Bill’s smile faded. 

“A joke?” he repeated blankly. “No -- it’s not a -- ”

Emily fixed Bill with a rather pitying, condescending look as she slipped the pink rose out of his hand. 

“Look, Bill,” she said very coolly, “you’re cute and all -- but you really think you’re my type? You’re a Weasley. Prefect or no, you’re still a blood traitor in messy, second-hand clothes with younger students always tagging along after you like ducklings and a father who chases after Muggle airplanes and scooters rather than work a job that can pay the bills.”

She carelessly dropped the pink rose in the fountain and turned her back on him. 

“Maybe actually make something of yourself, and then we can talk.”

Carewyn had been furious at the things Emily Tyler had said -- but it was the absolutely devastated, heartbroken look on Bill’s darkly flushing face that made her snap. In an instant, the third-year Slytherin had barreled right up to the pink-dressed Gryffindor as she rejoined her snickering friends at the side of the courtyard. 

“How dare you!”

Emily’s friends all stopped laughing to look down at Carewyn. 

“Excuse me?” said Emily, looking down at the much smaller girl with a very condescending eye.

“Bill bared his heart to you just now, and you don’t even care!” Carewyn said fiercely. “Talking about his family being poor and liking Muggle things as if it’s something to be ashamed of...clearly Bill couldn’t have liked you for your personality, because it’s disgusting!”

Emily’s nose wrinkled as she glanced around at her friends. “I don’t think anyone’s surprised you’d throw in your lot with a Weasley, Cursebreaker kid. Your family’s got even less reputation to be proud of -- not to mention your clothes are just as out-of-date as theirs are.”

The boys in the group all gave a low “ooh,” sniggering among themselves. 

“Well, fortunately, unlike you, I could care less about my reputation,” Carewyn spat. “And I’m frankly glad of it! Bill is a kind, hardworking person who always puts others first and puts his whole heart into everything he does! If his family’s reputation makes it so you can’t appreciate any of that, then I’d say you’re the one who needs to ‘make something of yourself’ -- ”

“Carey.”

Carewyn felt a hand coming down on her shoulder, almost holding her back. She looked up, to see Bill standing over her. His gaze was locked on Carewyn rather than Emily and his face was very scarlet, but his voice was low and forcibly level. 

“Don’t worry about it,” he mumbled. 

Carewyn looked at him with concern. “Bill...”

“It’s okay,” said Bill. He forced a thoroughly unconvincing smile. “Let’s just go.”

Carewyn stared at Bill for a long moment, feeling very reluctant to let the issue go. Her eyes then fell away, drifting away -- it seemed they’d acquired an audience, in the rest of the students scattered around the courtyard.

Bill would probably be even more embarrassed, if I escalated things further, she thought guiltily. 

Exhaling quietly, Carewyn shot one more very dirty look in Emily’s direction and walked off with Bill. As they walked off, some of Emily’s friends shouted taunts after them.

“‘Mother Duck’ Weasley strikes again!”

“Follow along after Mama, little duckling!”

Carewyn forced herself to keep walking and not turn around. She shot a furtive glance at Bill, and saw that he was doing the exact same thing, even with the ruby red flush in his cheeks and the slight shine to his eyes. 

Carewyn followed Bill out of the courtyard, down the hall, through the large double doors, and out onto the castle grounds. The eldest Weasley seemed to be walking with no destination in mind, his gaze endless and his steps aimless. Carewyn could practically feel the misery, shame, hurt, and embarrassment coming off of her friend, and it made her heart hurt. Her gaze fell to her feet as they walked side-by-side together. 

“...I guess...it was her, wasn’t it?”

Bill straightened up. He’d clearly forgotten for a moment that Carewyn was there. 

“Huh?” he said, before uncomfortably adding, “...W-who?”

“Who you were thinking about, whenever ‘Uptown Girl’ came on.”

Bill flushed a dark red. “What? No, I...what makes you...think there was anyone I was...?”

“Oh, come on, Bill,” said Carewyn with a pitying look. “Your eyes were always so bright, whenever side two started up. I thought...well, there had to be something special you were thinking about, when you heard that one. Even if it wasn’t a specific person...it just felt like that song was something that spoke to you, I guess...”

She offered him a weak, sad smile. 

“...It kind of reminded me of when I sing certain songs. Like even if the words are someone else’s, you can sing them like they’re all yours.”

Bill considered Carewyn for a minute. Then, his flush darkening further, he bowed his head. 

“...Yeah. I suppose that’s true.”

He gave a low sigh.

“...What did I do wrong, Carewyn?” he asked. “Did I come on too strong? Should I have sent her a note, or asked to meet her somewhere more private?”

Carewyn whirled on Bill with an incredulous look. “What? Bill, you didn’t do anything wrong!"

“Sure feels like it,” mumbled Bill. 

Carewyn stopped right in front of Bill, putting her hands on her hips and fixing him with a very reproachful look. 

“You listen to me, William Weasley,” she said fiercely. “I may not know anything about that snobbish twit -- ”

“Emily Tyler.”

“ -- I may not know much of anything about her, but I know you, and I know you deserve so much better than how she treated you. Even if she doesn’t feel the same way about you as you do about her, there’s no excuse for how cruel she was to you...all clearly just to save face around those awful friends of hers...”

Bill blinked in surprise. “You reckon?”

“Yeah,” said Carewyn. “She kept glancing at her friends, the whole time. She rejected you that soundly because she thought they wouldn’t approve of you.”

Seeing the look on Bill’s face, she added, “But that shouldn’t matter, Bill! If Emily thinks impressing her friends is more important than being a decent human being, that’s her problem. And if her so-called ‘friends’ are the sort of people who look down their noses at good people like your family...well, clearly Emily Tyler’s a rotten judge of character.”

Bill looked a bit comforted by Carewyn’s words. He tried to smile again, but it still looked halfhearted at best. 

“Thanks, Carey,” he said lowly. “It’s just...well, she’s just so amazing. Talented and pretty and perfectly brilliant -- you should see her in Defense Against the Dark Arts, I reckon she’s on the NEWT level already. She even said she might like being a Cursebreaker, when she graduates -- travel everywhere, and become world-famous...”

Carewyn brought a hand onto Bill’s shoulder and gave it a supportive squeeze. It felt a little odd: he hadn’t really talked to anyone about his feelings for Emily, and just talking his feelings out, rather than listening to someone else’s...it was something he could only really ever remember doing with his parents, and only occasionally. It was weird, but it felt...nice.

“I just...didn’t think she’d react like that,” Bill admitted. “Not that I expected I’d sweep her off her feet or anything, but...I’d sort of hoped that she’d give me a chance, and that when we went out, we’d get on, and maybe even hit it off...”

He sighed heavily. 

“Guess I really don’t know much about love at all, do I?”

Carewyn frowned deeply. “That’s not true at all! You know plenty about love. You love your brothers and Ginny, and your parents...and you love your friends too!”

“That’s really not the same thing,” said Bill. 

“It should be,” huffed Carewyn. “Love is love. If you love someone, you care about their happiness more than your own. Sure, maybe when you marry someone, there’s a lot more kissing and you want to have kids together and stuff like that...but well, the important part is that caring, right? Without that, what does the rest of that stuff matter?”

Bill’s face softened slightly. 

“...I guess you’re right. And I guess...when I am looking for that person...I should find somebody who’ll care about my happiness just as much as I do theirs.”

Carewyn nodded with a smile. “Definitely.”

She took Bill’s hand.

“And maybe someday when your ship comes in,” she sang brightly, “she’ll understand what kind of guy you’ve been...”

Bill’s face flushed again, but this time it wasn’t out of embarrassment -- this time, it was accompanied by a bright, touched look in his brown eyes. 

“And then I’ll win,” he finished, in a much less trained, gravelly singing voice than Carewyn’s. 

Carewyn beamed. She walked on ahead, pulling lightly at Bill’s hand so as to coax him to walk next to her. 

“And when she knows what she wants from her tiiiiime~...”

Bill gave a laugh, but followed Carewyn’s lead, recalling the words by heart. 

“And when she wakes up and makes up her miiiiind~...”

Soon Carewyn and Bill were back toward the castle, swinging their linked hands idly back and forth as they sang the rest of the song together, getting louder and louder with each line. 

“She'll see I'm not so tough, Just because I'm in love with an uptown girl! You know, I've seen her in her uptown world -- She's getting tired of her high-class toys And all her presents from her uptown boys.... She's got a choice! Whoa, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh! Whoa, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh!”

Before long, all the two thought of while singing that song was hanging out together and being silly, while not caring what anyone else thought. Not a single word of the song brought Emily Tyler back to Bill’s mind -- and in the years to come, Bill would continue to enjoy the song with no negative connotations whatsoever, instead only remembering when Carewyn and he sang it at the top of their lungs to make him feel better. And that moment did indeed signal a shift in the dynamic between Carewyn and Bill. For Carewyn, it made her feel like she was walking home with Jacob again -- like she had an older brother who she could look after, the way she used to for Jacob. And for Bill, it made him feel like he’d acquired a second younger sister -- one who emotionally supported him the same way he did his real siblings. 

One thing was for sure, though -- it was this moment, among many others to come, that cemented Bill and Carewyn as the very best of friends. 

x~x~x~x

Tagging @the-al-chemist​ and @oneirataxia-girl​ for expressing interest in this prompt! 🤗

Carewyn’s dress is based on the design on the left 💗

[magess]

Feels Theory

This is not an academic essay. But I’m trying to figure out how some people I know think the end of Supernatural was fitting and good and nothing to complain about and other people I know are so intensely upset and angry that they can’t sleep.

I’m dubbing it Feels Theory (cause it sounds like Field Theory). And it goes something like this: 

For a subset of viewers, the most important thing about an ending is the feelings it evokes in them when they watch it.

The valued feelings are: Sadness, Nostalgia, and Closure.

What they ultimately want is to let go, and this is the formula of feelings that allows for letting go.

I think Sadness may not actually be right. The SPN ending had sadness. But I propose that Happiness or Bittersweetness might also suffice, because what’s really happening there is not the quality of the emotion but the intensity of it. Feeling any of those things intensely is cleansing. You can have a good cry when you’re happy or sad. The point is the catharsis. 

So I’d like to amend that to: Intense Emotion, Nostalgia, Closure.

Nostalgia is actually an incredibly powerful emotion. If you look at JJ Abrams’s body of work, you might be tempted to think it’s the ONLY emotion. His movies are incredibly driven to create a sense of nostalgia in viewers as a means for deriving satisfaction, often at the cost of everything else. Nostalgia is wistful, happy, simple, yearning. It feels good. 

Moreover, it lowers anxiety and loneliness. And as we become more anxious and lonely as a society, the desire for this feeling only increases. https://thriveworks.com/blog/obsessed-nostalgia-psychologists/

Closure.  This seems self-explanatory, but a sense of closure is real. Resolving your feelings is as real in art as it is in other aspects of life. We want to feel like there’s nothing more to say, no more questions to ask, no further developments that we might miss if we look away. A direct quote from a fan post, “I think the thing I love so much about this finale is that it FEELS finished. I remember years ago Jared was talking about how if the boys lived he’d be like, “Well then what are they doing??” and I feel the same way.”

The 15x20 hits all these points.

Intense Emotion: Dean’s death scene, Sam’s mourning

Nostalgia: Pie, the Impala in heaven, Bobby waiting, Harvelle’s Roadhouse, just Sam and Dean, the monster of the week hunt, vampires, clowns

Closure: Dean died the way he thought he would, Sam had a family the way he thought he would, and they both die and go to heaven

What Feels Theory proposes is that it is not the content that matters. Therefore, if one could swap out different plot points but retain the same emotional beats, such an ending would also qualify as “good.” It would satisfy because the viewer would go through the same set of emotions, even though they are evoked by completely different circumstances.

Suppose the finale instead went something like this:

They are standing on the road in front of Jack, the new god. Dean asks if he’s coming back to the bunker and he says no. Dean looks pained and says there’s something he wants to ask. Jack smiles fondly at him and says that he knows and then looks over Dean’s shoulder. Cas says, “Hello, Dean” and Dean turns to see him, overcome with relief. One of several things could happen, ranging on the confirmation of Destiel desire: anything from a hug and a good to have you back to tearful kissing. Sam gets a text from Eileen and asks Jack if he could… Jack snaps his fingers and Sam appears next to Eileen for a tearful reunion of their own. Jack smiles to himself and disappears. 

Time passes.

Dean and Cas build by hand Singer’s Roadhouse. On the day it opens, Sam and Eileen announce they’re going to have twins. They want the rest to be a surprise, but they’re going to name them Charlie and Jo regardless. Sam stops hunting and instead works on reviving the Men and Women of Letters. In the Roadhouse, Dean sets a slice of pie in front of Cas and looks skyward. “You know kid, you can pop by and try some. Your dad’s been practicing.” He gives Cas a fond smile. The phone rings behind him and he turns to a bank of phones labeled CIA, FBI, Animal Control, Park Ranger. He picks up the FBI phone and leans against the bar near Cas, who has set the fork down and watches him seriously. “Hello? Yeah, this is Agent Kripke.” He meets Cas’s gaze. “What can I do you for?”

Such a series of events covers, at least, nostalgia and closure. It brings back names of old characters. It gives Sam a domestic life. It recalls the episode in which Dean ran a bar and was happy. It recalls the Roadhouse itself. It mirrors Bobby being the hub of hunter back-up. It lets Sam focus on intellectual pursuits. And there’s pie.

It covers closure. They have moved on from hunting. They have set up new lives and entered a new era. Jack isn’t going to be throwing new destinies at them. And while it may not be the closure of death, it’s a turning the page on a chapter of their lives.

Intense Emotion could be achieved any number of ways, depending on whether the goal was a full-length episode as a series coda. Perhaps there’s a scene of Dean moving out of the bunker to live someplace closer to the Roadhouse until it’s done. It’s a tearful goodbye while Sam stays behind and Dean takes his few possessions. Or maybe you go the happiness route. In which case, Sam’s babies being born and Dean holding one and smiling and Cas holding one and smiling and them looking at each other a little tearful would also fill that catharsis void. They talk about how they’re going to do things differently than what their dad did.

But the theory is that it’s not the content that ultimately matters if you’re a feels viewer. Anything that evokes nostalgia, closure, and strong cleansing emotion is sufficient for a “good” ending. And you are likely to accept any permutation of events without imagining a different permutation of events as better or correct or proper, because the feels themselves were correct and proper. 

Non-feels viewers, on the other hand, focus on narrative plot points. Their satisfaction is derived from what they feel is a logical progression of plot points and character beats. Whether any of those things evoke nostalgia or closure is less important than whether they see them as congruous. A good ending is one that is congruent. Where do their feels come into this? 

I don’t know. I’m still thinking about it. These viewers have loads of feels for sure, but the issues they raise as the reasons for their unhappiness are all congruency based. The cries are mostly that it “doesn’t make sense” or “ignores the last 10 years” or “leaves out all the character development” and not so much that it lacked intense emotion or a sense of closure. 

Their ability to engage with the emotional content seems contingent upon the congruency requirement. If congruence is broken, that dissonance becomes paramount and takes a place of primacy over whatever the emotional content is trying to evoke. 

Whether this is just a way to weasel around shipping lines, I’m not sure. Maybe? I do know that I’ve seen people I would not call casual viewers fall on the feels side. I’m trying to make sense of how long time fans who have watched every episode can seemingly have not watched the same show at all, as their response to the finale are diametrically opposed. 

Unfortunately, it’s not something one can really test, either. No show gets to end twice. So you can’t have a feels viewer watch two endings to see if both are good. 

[lifeofkaze]

An Art of Balance #4

Warning: mention of food

 Word Count: ~ 2.500

______________________________________________________________ 

Chapter 4: Devising A Plan

The Great Hall was already crowded when Charlie and Lizzie returned. It had been the first time Lizzie had been to the creatures reserve this year. She couldn’t resist checking on all of their charges and the sun had almost gone down when they had started to make their way back.

Hagrid had been quite busy adding new arrivals. They were eagerly chatting about the new flock of Diricrawls they had encountered just as they had been about to leave. It had taken all of Charlie’s efforts to prise Lizzie from their adorable antics.

Lizzie looked the Hufflepuff table up and down for where Rowan was sitting. Charlie noticed her searching look and nonchalantly put his arm around her shoulder, craning his head.

“So, who is this ‘something like a date’ person? Do I know them?”

She shook his hand off and rolled her eyes. “Do you even care if it’s not a Norwegian Ridgeback?”

“Who do you take me for? Of course I do!” He waved at Bill who had kept a seat for him at the Gryffindor table. “Although, to be honest, not quite as much as if they were.”

Having spotted her, Lizzie pointed to where Rowan was waiting. “See, that’s my dinner date over there. If you don’t mind, I’ll go and spend my evening without any talk of dragons.”

Charlie only laughed at that. “As if you’re not loving it.”

Lizzie hid her affectionate smile by turning her back on him and walking over to her house table. She passed Orion and McNully, who offered her a seat. She quickly shook her head, not even stopping.

“Not today, guys. Next time.”

She heard McNully mutter a “That was about 63,7% unexpected.”, and continued on.

When she walked past Penny, Skye and Tonks, who shifted on the bench to make room for her, she halted for second.

“Thank you, but don’t mind me. I’m having dinner with Rowan today.”

Penny arched her eyebrows. “So that’s why she didn’t want to sit with us. I was wondering what was going on.” She gave Lizzie a sympathetic smile. “It will do you good to catch up a bit.”

“I really hope so.”

Lizzie took a step forward when Skye caught hold of her wrist. Surprised, Lizzie turned around again to see her suspicious glance towards the table where Charlie was goofing around with his brothers.

Knowing exactly what she was about to ask, Lizzie wrenched her arm free and put it against her hip.

“Skye, don’t, I warn you,” she glowered at her friend. “We have been working at the reserve, like so many times before. Get over it.”

Skye was clearly not satisfied with Lizzie’s answer, but said nothing, surprised at Lizzie’s sharp tone. Angrily Lizzie walked on, letting herself fall into the seat facing Rowan.

Her friend was toying around with her fork. Lizzie noticed her plate was still empty. Her anger subsided instantly. Rowan had actually waited for her to start her meal. Feeling guilty for dallying, Lizzie blushed.

“I’m so sorry for keeping you waiting, you really should have started without me! I was looking at all the new creatures Hagrid brought in and forgot the time. Can you imagine, we have a whole flock of Diricrawls now, and some new Abraxans have joined the herd and- “, Lizzie noticed her rambling and willed herself to stop.

“Thank you for waiting, is what I wanted to say,” she mumbled sheepishly.

Rowan didn’t seem to be particularly mad and reached for one of the sandwiches piled on a plate in front of her. Relieved she didn’t mess things up even further, Lizzie did the same.

Lifting the top half up, she grimaced. “Ugh, tuna.” She nodded at Rowan who had done the same and looked equally disgusted as she was. “What have you got?”

Rowan wrinkled her nose. “Roast beef.”

“Swap?” they asked simultaneously. They burst out laughing, exchanging their sandwiches. They had each picked the other one’s favourite.

The laughter subsided and they started eating in silence, neither quite knowing how to begin the conversation. Lizzie couldn’t remember a time when she had not been able to tell Rowan what was on her mind. But now, everything felt strained, as if they didn’t know each other by heart.

Setting her sandwich down before her, Lizzie took a deep breath.

“Let’s get this over with, shall we?” She looked Rowan directly into the eye. “Tell me what is bothering you.”

Rowan, however, seemed determined to avoid Lizzie’s inquiring gaze. Instead, she reached for her cup of pumpkin juice, turning it around between her hands again and again.

“I don’t know what’s the matter, Lizzie. I’m alright. We’re good.”

Lizzie snorted and crossed her arms before her chest. “I’m not leaving this table until we have settled this. And neither are you,” she added quickly as she saw Rowan’s eyes shift towards the entrance of the Great Hall. “Now, let’s try again. Why are you so uncomfortable around me? Is this really only about my Quidditch friends?”

Rowan pursed her lips, still looking everywhere but directly at her. Her nervous fingers had moved on to a slice of bread, tearing it apart into tiny pieces. Lizzie reached across the table and gently took it out of her hands. Rowan had hung her head, her face partly obscured by her long black hair. Lizzie leaned forward a bit, trying to take a peek at her friend’s expression. Seeing how miserable she looked, Lizzie instantly felt sorry for her.

“You can tell me,” she said softly.

Finally, Rowan lifted her head, a guilt-stricken expression on her face. “Why do you have to be like this? I have been so snarky to you and still you try so hard to make something right that you don’t even know about!”

Lizzie frowned in confusion. “I don’t know what you’re on to, but I think that is what friends are supposed to be doing.”

Disbelief was written all across Rowan’s face. “Can you please stop being so disgustingly perfect for just a second?” She waved at her angrily. “Just look at you. As popular as Penny, as good a chaser as Skye and although you spend all your time hopping from one party to the other, or throwing quaffles around on that stupid pitch of yours instead of studying, you are still as good in class as I am!” It had all burst out of her in a rush. Her cheeks had flushed with her anger.

Lizzie couldn’t quite believe what she was hearing. “Are you trying to tell me, that you are jealous of me? Seriously?” she asked incredulously.

Rowan pressed her lips together. “But I’m right, am I not? Everything comes so easy to you; you’re not even trying. I, on the other hand, study the hardest of all of us and I just can’t surpass you!” She slammed the new slice of bread she had been reducing to crumbs down onto her plate.

Now it was Lizzie’s turn to get angry. “That is the biggest pile of nonsense I have ever heard come out of your mouth.” She leaned forward, her body tense. “I work hard for everything I do and you know that damn well. I used to think we were a team. Complementing each other, not rivals about who performs best.”

“Yes, because you don’t even see me as competition.” Rowan had raised her voice, attracting the attention of the students around them. While some were looking curiously, most seemed uncomfortable to witness their fight and pretended to not notice.

Furious, Lizzie got up. “This is ridiculous. I don’t have to listen to this. We can talk when you have come back to your senses.”

Turning around, she found the way blocked by Orion and Murphy, standing a few feet away from her, suddenly pretending very hard not to have listened to the angry exchange between the two friends.

“What do you want?” Lizzie snapped.

Startled by her sharp tone, Murphy started rambling. “Oh, we just came over because Orion wanted to tell you something. But we didn’t want to interrupt you and Rowan talking, because it seemed important and everyone knows you had a rough start this year and I don’t know if it helps but statistically there is a phase in every friendship where even the best friends start fighting; chances of this being between the ages of fifteen and seventeen lie at 88,2 %. This is probably because people are growing up and getting interested in thinks like dating, which can strain- “

Noticing Lizzie’s withering gaze and Orion’s raised eyebrows, he trailed off, looking rather sheepish.

Orion turned his attention back to Lizzie. “Are you alright? You seem upset,” he asked quietly.

Lizzie averted her eyes. “Forget it, it’s nothing.”

He didn’t seem as if he believed her. He put a hand on her shoulder. “Whatever is troubling you, clear you mind. Focus on what is ahead.”

Lizzie glanced at his hand, confused by the gesture. “And what would that be?”

He let go of her, suddenly beaming. “The time for try-outs has come! We shall set out to find the missing link to the chain that holds our team together.”

Lizzie blinked at him. “What, right now?” She wouldn’t put it past him.

“No, tomorrow after class.” Murphy chimed in, switching into full announcing mode. “Prepare for a detailed recapitulation of last season’s strategic highs and lows, prepare for a thorough analysis of your physical condition, prepare for dreams being fulfilled and dreams being crushed when the aspirants for the vacant beater position are tested in Hufflepuff’s first practise of the season!”

Having gotten a little overexcited, he took a deep breath to calm himself. “Just be prepared.”

The prospect of getting back to the pitch had considerably heightened Lizzie’s spirits again.

“Don’t worry, I can’t wait,” she smiled at both of them.

Orion returned her smile, waved into Rowan’s direction and walked off, catching up to Murphy who was already halfway out of the Great Hall.

Now in a calmer mood, Lizzie turned around again to try her luck with Rowan one more time.

Rowan didn’t seem to notice, however. She was staring after Orion and Murphy, hand still half raised, a blush on her face. Their eyes met for a split second before Rowan dropped her gaze, but it was enough for Lizzie to see the flustered look in them.

Intrigued, she sat back down again.

“So that is it, isn’t it?” Although she really tried, she couldn’t keep the hint of smugness out of her voice. “The reason you don’t want to be around me when I’m with my teammates.” She interlaced her fingers and rested her head on top of them, blinking innocently. “You fancy Orion, am I right?”

Her face colour turning from a slight blush to a deep scarlet, Rowan frantically looked around if someone had heard. “You might as well hop onto the table and shout it out, if you don’t keep your voice down,” she hissed.

Lizzie tried to stifle the laugh burning at the back of her throat. It came out as a giggle. “Come now, it’s not like this is something bad. How long has this been going on?”

Helplessly, Rowan buried her face in her hands. “I don’t know. Maybe since about Christmas last year? I can’t really put a date on this, you know?”

Lizzie was surprised. “So long? Why did you never tell me?”

“It’s not like you were telling me everything either,” Rowan shot back, hinting at Lizzie and Charlie kissing.

“Fair game,” Lizzie conceded. “So, what’s your plan?”

Rowan shifted nervously on her seat. “I don’t know. Do you think I could have any chances with him?”

Lizzie considered for a moment. She had known Orion for quite some time now. He had become a close friend to her, he was a brilliant captain and gifted chaser, but she had a hard time picturing him doing something as mundane as dating.

“Honestly, Rowan? I’m not entirely sure he even does that,” she said cautiously.

“Does what?”

“Well… dating and stuff,” Lizzie shrugged.

Rowan impatiently waved her off. “Of course he does. He’s had girlfriends before; do you really think I haven’t done my research?”

Now it was Lizzie’s turn to blush. She had never thought Orion could actually have past relationships. She had never known about any of them. Thinking about this felt like invading his privacy somehow.

But this was Rowan, her best and oldest friend, who had fallen for her team captain. It was very unlike Lizzie to leave things alone once she set her mind on it and she felt the need to mend the relationship with her.

“No, of course you have. Now tell me, what are we going to do about it?”

Rowan’s brows shot up in surprise. “You want to help me? After all the things I said earlier?”

“Especially after all the things you said earlier,” Lizzie explained. “Orion is my friend and I like to think I know him a fair bit. Maybe I can set you up.”

Rowan remained doubtful. “I don’t know, Liz, what if he doesn’t like me? This could be a real clash of interests for you.”

“There’s only one way to find out.” Lizzie happily reached for a bit of fruit from the bowl before her. She spun the grape between her fingers before popping it into her mouth. “What do you want me to do?”

Knowing Lizzie wouldn’t give up on this, Rowan surrendered. “Actually, I was going to ask Penny for help in this… but it might work even better with you.”

“You know Orion is one of the best Herbology students in his year?” she asked in a matter-of-fact voice.

“No, but it figures.” Orion loved everything to do with nature, him having a talent for cultivating plants made perfect sense.

“Exactly. And it just so happens that he is tutoring students who are not as skilled as he is.”

Lizzie tilted her head. “But you are good at Herbology. You grew up among plants, quite literally.”

Rowan shook her head. “No, I’m really struggling with this year’s curriculum.”

Lizzie’s head dropped to the other side. “You are?”

“Same as you.”

Now she could only blink in bewilderment. “I am?”

Rowan pointed her fork at her, annoyance clearly visible on her face. “Go on asking like that and I might just believe it’s actually true.”

Shaking out of it, Lizzie gave Rowan’s plan a thought. “You want us to pretend to struggle in Herbology, so Orion can tutor us?”

“Exactly.”

“And what do you need me for?”

Her friend looked a little bit embarrassed. “A bit of moral support, I guess? Besides, you know him better than I do.”

Lizzie winced. “I’m not sure about this, Rowan. Like you said, I know Orion. He really values honesty. This could go terribly wrong.”

Rowan’s eyes flashed impatiently. “Are you in or do you want me to ask Penny for help?”

She had a bad feeling about this, but didn’t want to ruin their unspoken truce already. “Alright, I’m in. I’ll talk to him tomorrow after practise.”

[shnuggletea]

WHEW! I did it! I got this chapter done. It’s fresh out the oven, lovelies, so keep those comments about typos to yourself! I mean till tomorrow at least, I’m too tired right now! Takes me back to my college years of procrastination!

I seriously don’t think I can get tomorrow’s done and up but we’ll see.

One smoot below but there will be more so come here or Patreon for the unedited version. For the clean-er version, head over to Fanfiction or AO3. And don’t forget to check out the collection! It’s where you can easily find all the Sins Week contributions. Art, fics, it’s amazing!

Lovely Sins Art by @clearwillow! Thank you to the mods; @lemonlushff, @neutronstarchild, and @ruddcatha!Also, In case you missed it earlier....  here’s the playlist if you wanna take a listen.

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“Everything in this room is edible. Even I'm edible. But, that would be called canibalism. It is looked down upon in most societies.” ― Tim Burton, Charlie and the Chocolate Factory

I really didn’t want to get my bed wet and Miroku and I were both still dripping. He didn’t seem to understand the concept so I broke out of his hold, pushing on his shoulders and getting my feet on the floor. 

Miroku actually swept my legs, knocking me to the floor and jumping on top of me. 

“What the hell!” I said when I got the air back into my lungs. His attack had knocked it out of me. 

“I didn’t want you changing your mind.” He purred back, running his lips down my chest. “I’ve heard so many complain about the test of a woman,” he was at my belly now, his tongue licking my button as he spoke, “but I think you’re going to taste amazing Sango.”

Spreading my legs, I was his puppet and he wore me with his tongue. 

Miroku lapped me up as I came and my head was still spinning when his smirking face appeared over me. “And I was right.”

His tip was pressing at my entrance and I pushed on his shoulders. “I need a minute.”

Propping up on his elbows, he pouted. “Come now Sango dear. I know you have plenty of stamina.”

I laughed, “how? How do you know that?”

“Cause you’ve been running through my dreams for years now.”

I laughed at first but then when I realized it was more than a corny line, I sat up, pushing him back and backing up. “What are you talking about?”

“Did you not think it strange? How without a word we went to each other? Me to you, Inuyasha to Kagome, and Kikyo to Naraku?”

I shrugged, “because we called you…”

“Kagome called us, you sat next to her with a piece of octopus.”

“How…” I swallowed thickly, “how did you know that?”

“Same way we all knew? You’re my soulmate, did you think this was the first time I’d ever seen you?” I shook my head, of course, cause how the hell did they see us before we created them? “You merely called us to you, you didn’t create us.”

“How the hell…”

He laughed, crawling closer to me and my spot on the floor. “I’ve been dreaming of you since you came of age, Sango. Same with Inuyasha and Naraku. I can’t speak for them; seems like Naraku is against Kiky being his mate. But Inuyasha doesn’t seem to be struggling. Not with who his mate is, more like who he is.”

Breathing was a struggle at the moment but at least I could still think somewhat. “So you all know us from what? Dreams? How do you even know they were real?”

“I didn’t until I met you. And you’re more than what I could hope for. More than my dreams… literally.”

Grabbing my ankles, he pulled me along the floor and back into his arms, cradling me to him just before putting us together again. This time, his full weight was on me and I found it was pleasurable in its own way, not crushing or painful. 

But then he sat back, sitting on his heels and taking my hips with him. My skin stuck to the wood floor, making a loud sound that we both ignored. We were far too busy to care, wrapping my legs around his waist to stabilize. And free his hands, arching my back from his dick so deep inside me it was intense, to run over my body. As much as I loved the feeling of his shaft rubbing my walls, I loved his big hands on me more, slowly running them up my belly and across my ribs to cup my breasts. He rolled them around before leaning over and licking my nipples. It forced him to pause in his thrusts but I wasn’t complaining. Much.

“Miroku!!”

He chuckled, “now who’s intemperate?”

I huffed and wiggled my hips. “Still you, fucking me on my floor?”

“Forgive me,” he bowed his head a little, actually looking remorseful and I felt bad for saying anything, “but I’ve been waiting so long to have you that I refuse to wait any longer.” When he popped back up to look at me, he was grinning broadly. “I’m going to make love to you all night long, my dear Sango.”

I watched his muscles flex as he pulled me the rest of the way from the floor and into his lap. Then my eyes went to the ceiling because he was bouncing me on him with his tip banging against my dam. I felt heavy, but he was lifting me without struggle, his cock wiggling inside me and making me feel his lumpy shaft all the more. 

There was no escape, my mind was mush. “Oh GOD, Miroku!!!!”

I was falling, grabbing onto his neck and squeezing as I squeezed him, my pussy tightening to choke his dick. He just slowed his movements while I pulsed around him. When we stopped completely, he was biting my neck and coming, the vein on his shaft making him jump inside me. 

It was bedtime for me, feeling every bit the exhausted girl I should be after three orgasms. Pulling myself from Miroku was as tricky as always but he was tired too, thankfully. I wrapped a towel around myself and tossed one to Miroku, still on the floor.

“I’m going to take another quick shower before bed, okay?”

“Why?”

Flat out on the floor, he looked me over in confusion and want while the towel I threw remained unmoved. A pile of white on top of his junk. “I want to wash your spunk out of me and the sweat off.”

“Why?” I rolled my eyes but he sat up. “We’re not done anyway.”

I really didn’t think I had it on me to go again. Not now at least. “There is a thing as too much, you know?”

“Oh ho ho, not when it comes to you, Sango.”

Oh shit, he wasn’t kidding. Getting to his feet slowly was my saving grace, making it out my door before he could knock my feet out again. I liked sex and sex with Miroku was on another level, but there was only so much I could take in an HOUR!

He was on my heels but I made it to Kagome. “Did you just get out of the shower?”

“Kagome you have to help me, he won’t stop.”

She was alone in bed but things were off. I thought I saw Inuyasha in the kitchen but I was rushing too much to really look.

���Sango!” I didn’t have any time to think about it, my time up as Miroku grabbed me.

“Miroku! Listen to Sango!!”

For the second time, I was amazed. Because Miroku listened to Kagome just like Naraku had earlier. This was definitely going to be handy in the future, Miroku focusing on me and listening. “I need a break!”

“But… I want more…”

“So do I but I need to rest at least a little bit!!!”

I also wanted to cuddle. As much as I wanted to figuratively make love all night, I really couldn’t handle literally doing it. Forget the physical aspect, I didn’t want to be used even by my soulmate. I needed to be shown some love if he wanted me to continue. 

Kagome was out of the room and I really hoped Miroku had enough respect to not try in her bed. So I pushed him back a little, towards the door. “I just want you to hold me a little.”

His beautiful smile made my knees weak. “I can do that.”

It was the small squeak that alerted me, turning from Miroku and our destination to the frozen Kagome. She just stood there with her mouth hanging open. I followed her eyes and found myself in a similar position, Inuyasha lip-locked with Kikyo in the kitchen. 

When did she even get here?? I grabbed Kagome and pulled her away, forcibly turning her from the scene while the two finally broke apart. Inuyasha’s eyes landed on us and looked confused. Especially when he noticed the tearful Kagome in my arms. “What the fuck is going on here?!”

oOo

I didn’t care that it was late, all the more reason to force my in if I had to. I was surprised when my knock got answered after the first try and relieved when it was Inuyasha that answered the door. 

“Oh, hi Kikyo.”

He was purring, clearly happy to see me. I was happy to see him too, still in the clothes I left him in and nothing out of place. I wasn’t too late. “Sorry it’s so late but I really needed to talk to you.”

“Me?”

I nodded and followed him as he moved to the kitchen. He was searching the cabinets for something, coming across the glasses before being satisfied. “I want to talk to you about… you and me.”

He turned from the tap, filling a glass with water, and cocked a black brow up at me. I forced my eyes to stay on his face instead of his ears, they creeped me out. But they weren’t his fault, Kagome did that to him. 

“I think… I know you  and I would be happy together.”

His rich eyes dulled a little and left my face. Then he turned off the tap and set down the glass, slowly. “Kikyo… that’s not how it works.”

“Why not?! I want you, not Naraku!”

“Yes you do, you’re just being a hog, wanting more than you need.”

Ignoring the crack in my heart at his words, I stepped closer to him. He turned to face me and stepped back but I wouldn’t let him escape. “Prove it. Prove to me that we don’t belong together. That you belong with Kagome.”

“Feh, I can’t prove that…”

“Kiss me.”

He slowly shook his head, unsure. I just knew, knew if we kissed he would see. That it would break Kagome’s hold on him and fix everything.

“If you kiss me, it will either prove that I’m wrong and we’ll feel nothing or it will prove me right!” He hesitated with an answer because he was nearly mine with my logic. “Look at it this way, it’ll make you better. It will assure you of your feelings.” He still wasn’t sure so I played on his earlier feelings. “And it will only make you a better kisser. The more people you kiss, the better you get at it. Kagome will appreciate you working hard to make her happy.”

His ears popped up at that. Damn, Kagome’s spell on him was strong. All he cared about was pleasing her and it made me sick. Were Naraku and Miroku the same? Kagome’s playthings she sent our way to distract?!

I wasn’t going to let him think it over as he would be struck by Kagome’s hold for sure. Stepping up again, I grabbed the locks that hung over his shoulders, hiding his lack of human ears, and pulled him down to my height. 

The instant his lips touched mine, I knew this was right. I was breaking Kagome’s spell. He was letting me do this, sucking his bottom lip into my mouth and licking it. He liked it, his hands going to my hips and gripping them hard. But then he gently pushed me back and grew pale. He wasn’t looking at me though, he was looking behind me. 

I had a feeling what it was and Inuyasha’s fear had to be from Kagome possibly sending him back to where he came from. Taking him away from me. And Kagome’s tears were from getting her spell broken, not any real feelings for the man in front of me. 

She didn’t feel what I felt for him at all. 

“What, the actual fuck, is going on here?!” Sango screamed, gripping Kagome tighter. Always her protector. 

“I’m just making things right. Aren’t I, Kagome.”

Sango glared at me for speaking when she just asked for an answer. “What the hell does that mean?!”

Kagome pushed from Sango but looked at the floor. She was guilty, otherwise, she would be able to look at me. “She knows exactly what I’m talking about.”

“Kagome?” Inuyasha asked, his voice pained. 

Glancing back at him, I saw the hurt on his face and it hit me and I turned my fire onto Kagome. “Oh god, you slept with him?!!”

Sango gasped and started to charge but Miroku held her back. “You slept with Kagome and then kissed Kikyo? Jesus, Kikyo could you taste Kagome on his lips?!”

I didn’t care about Sango. She had never really liked me. I focused on Kagome who was closed off completely, arms over her chest and glaring at the door. “You took advantage of him.”

“I didn’t…”

“But you did! He didn’t know what he was doing.”

“Excuse me?!”

Sango was still screeching, she had no clue what was going on. Inuyasha was still by my side and that spoke volumes. If I was wrong even in the slightest, he would be running to her now, wouldn’t he? No, Kagome had used her spell on him to get what she wanted. But I had freed him of it with a kiss. Just like the fairy tale.

“Inuyasha, let’s go.” I moved towards the door and when he didn’t follow, I turned back. He was staring at Kagome but she refused to look at him. “She doesn’t own you or control you. You are nothing to her now.”

His eyes stayed glued to Kagome but moved towards me now. Inuyasha was so scared of what Kagome would do to him for leaving her, he wouldn’t take his eyes off her. She may have used her spell to seduce him but she wasn’t the type to hurt physically. Kagome would never hurt me or anyone like that.

I grabbed Inuyasha’s hand and pulled him the rest of the way out of the silent apartment and the silence followed us all the way to my place.

oOo

“What, the actual fuck, is going on here?!” 

Sango had me in her hold before I could blink the image away. She thought she was sparing me but it was too late, I had seen enough. My own soulmate, the guy I’d just slept with, was kissing my best friend in my kitchen.

I Iet Sango continue to shield me because I feared what I wasn’t seeing. Was Inuyasha holding Kikyo still? Stroking her back or holding her hand? “I’m just making things right. Aren’t I, Kagome.”

My stomach turned, thinking instantly of my control over the boys. Miroku, Inuyasha, and Naraku all did as I told them without question many times now. 

“What the hell does that mean?!” Sango screamed, not understanding.

I was going to puke on Sango, so I pushed her away. But like hell, I was going to look at the two of them. Kikyo might be right about my control but that didn’t mean I had to look at the happy couple while they chewed up my heart. 

“She knows exactly what I’m talking about.” There was venom in Kikyo’s voice like all of this was my fault. But I guess it was wasn’t it?

“Kagome?” 

I could hear the hurt and confusion in Inuyasha’s voice and it nearly broke me. If I told him, would he tell me that he never wanted to sleep with me?

“Oh god, you slept with him?!!”

Sango was about to throw down, “you slept with Kagome and then kissed Kikyo? Jesus, Kikyo could you taste Kagome on his lips?!”

“You took advantage of him.” Kikyo spat.

“I.. I didn’t…” 

“But you did! He didn’t know what he was doing.”

“Excuse me?!”

I didn’t! I made sure not to say anything to him! He did it all of his own free will. Didn’t he? I wanted it, wanted him more than anything because… I loved him. From the moment I saw him I knew I loved him but felt it was stupid and crazy. Had my love forced him? He wasn’t pushing Kikyo away, he wanted her. And she didn’t have any control over him, all his feelings were his own. 

He didn’t want me, he wanted Kikyo.

“Inuyasha, let’s go.” I could feel his stare on me but I couldn’t look at him. If I did, I might beg him to stay and then he would. He was under my control so I said nothing. “She doesn’t own you or control you. You are nothing to her now.”

The door clicked and my heart broke, a sob coming as a result. “What are you doing? Stop them!!”

Sango was gunning for me now, angry tears flooding her face while sorrow flooded mine. “He should be with her. He wants her.”

“Bull shit! Kikyo just wants as many men as she can get! She is a greedy little glutton and she wants you to be miserable! She wants you to need her, Kagome! So she took the only person you needed more. I demand you go after him right now!!!” 

Miroku grabbed Sango and pulled her back while I escaped to my room. My bed was still a mess from where Inuyasha and I made love. If that’s what you can call it. The sheets would smell like him and I knew it but I still crashed face-first into them and breathed deep. I was the glutton, not Kikyo. 

A glutton for punishment.

[percyscourt]

To All The Girls I've Loved Before / Percy Jackson AU

based more on the film version than the novel

Percy Jackson is a 16 year-old hopeless romantic with stormy eyes, a mischevious smile, and jet black hair that spills all over his eyes. He falls and hard, usually liking people for a long time. Instead of telling his crushes, though, he instead writes each a letter- letters he never even thinks once about sending. Each letter is addressed to each of his five (5) main crushes, equipped with why, when, and how he fell for each of them

letter #1: annabeth chase. annabeth chase was percy's first kiss back at a party in seventh grade. it was only for a second, due to a game of spin the bottle, but it was as if the world lit up to percy. in the letter, he reveals that even though annabeth was dating his then-bestfriend, Luke Castellan, percy continued to secretly like her for the rest of seventh grade and most of eighth. the one thing percy loved the most about annabeth was also the one he hated the most; everybody liked her, and it was impossible for him not to fall for her. in his eyes and the eyes of most, she was perfect.

letter #2: rachel elizabeth dare. rachel elizabeth dare was the first person percy liked after getting over his crush on annabeth. it all started on a rainy day when they had to put up the PE's gym bats. rachel was the only one who ever called percy PJ, and he secretly loved it. he also wished he had a nickname for her. their time together was short-lived though, because rachel moved away at the start of the summer after eighth grade. after she left, percy wrote the letter admitting that he wished something had happened between them, even saying he wish she never left.

letter #3: thalia grace. thalia grace was percy's date to homecoming in ninth grade. in his letter, he admitted that he fell for thalia due to her grace- no pun intended- and witty comments all while they danced. percy admitted the crush lasted a little while, and grew even bigger from their english class presentations because thalia just seemed so confident. he ended the letter with a question, what kind of boys did thalia like? was he one of them?

letter #4: calypso from camp. calypso and percy went to the same camp the summer after eighth grade. this romance was very short-lived and percy never even learned her last name. he started liking her after she showed him how to make a shell necklace during arts-and-crafts, but when camp ended, he wrote the letter then sort of forgot about her.

letter #5: silena beauregard. percy actually wrote on two different occasions for silena. after silena moved in the neighborhood when percy was going into sixth and she was going into seventh, her, percy, and percy's older brother, Charles "charlie", all became friends very quickly. the first part of the letter was written when charlie and silena started dating when percy was in ninth grade. percy admitted in the letter that he wished that him and silena got more alone time, despite her relationship with his brother. due to respect for his brother, though he never finished the letter. that is, until charlie broke up with silena right before leaving for college. percy finished the letter on another page, stating how the breakup made him realize that he still had unresolved feelings for silena left over. though again, he said nothing could ever happen between them because of charlie.

it was september of percy's high school junior year when the letters get out. charlie's away at college, leaving percy and tyson alone to fight amongst themselves. after a particularly bad fight, tyson sent out all the letters while percy was asleep.

the next monday, percy was running laps outside at pe when was approached by a very confused annabeth clutching her letter. percy, being as graceful as he is, fainted. when he woke up, not only was annabeth staring down at him, still confused, but silena was also walking towards him, her own letter in hand. so, he did the only thing he could think of- he reached for annabeth and kissed her. annabeth seemed surprised but still kissed him back, and the kiss lasted for what seemed like minutes to percy. when they finally broke apart silena is nowhere in sight. almost as quickly as percy kissed annabeth, he runs.

he runs all the way into school where he runs into thalia grace. "percy! thank gosh!" it takes all of percy's willpower to stop himself from fainting when he sees that thalia also is holding her letter. "uh, you know i'm aromantic, right? i mean, you're sweet, and i totally had fun at homecoming, but i don't-" percy's face turns a bright shade of red. "yeah, yeah, of course. it was a long time ago anyway. uh, can we talk later?" as soon as thalia nods, percy heads to his locker and leaves school, running like the devil was chasing him (percy put off taking his driving test due to the fact that his extreme ADHD made it really hard to concentrate on the road, so he mostly ran everywhere)

when he got home, he ran to his closet to see that all the letters had been sent. one good thing- his letter to calypso had been mailed back, as he didn't know her address. bad thing? everybody else's had sent, and he didn't know how to do damage control.

a little after his mother and brother got home, percy still was trying to figure out how the letters had gotten out. he was tearing apart his room for the fifth time when his mom called up to him; "Percy! Silena's here! Looks like she really wants to talk to you!" percy, of course, instead, hopped down the stairs of the fire escape and headed to his favorite diner, the Big House Diner

when he got there, he immediately asked for his regular order and waited. since he was too busy looking out the window, he didn't realize that somebody had sat down next to him. "Hey, Jackson." percy looked over to see annabeth not even three feet away from his spot at the bar. the waitress came over, asked for annabeth's order, and then left. in attempt to make things less awkward, percy asked annabeth what she was doing there. she was quiet for a while before admitting she had asked Tyson where she could find Percy. "Look, I just wanna be super clear." percy realized annabeth was trying to turn him down and quickly spoke up, "Annabeth, I'm not trying to date you."

after annabeth still kept going, percy explained the letters and then admitted he had only kissed annabeth because he saw silena coming. when annabeth just looked at him confused, percy told her how his brother was no longer dating silena but it would be super awkward if silena believed percy still liked her. "Wait, so. I'm not the only girl that got a letter? Damn, Jackson, you're a player"

Annabeth kept asking who percy sent the letters to, and he ended up telling her about all of them. Just as percy was about to leave, annabeth stopped him. "Did you...walk here?" moments later, percy was getting a ride home in annabeth's jeep. annabeth drove him home but neither of them said anything for awhile. finally, annabeth asked percy what he was going to do about silena, to which percy admitted he had no clue, but that he maybe still liked silena.

before percy got into his house, annabeth had gotten out of the car to stop him. "What if you didn't tell her? What if we let people think we were actually together?" annabeth explained how when luke heard about the kiss, he went ballistic, and how he'd want to get back together soon enough if he thought percy and annabeth were a thing. annabeth left him to think about her proposition, and percy was up almost all night thinking about it

the next day during free period, percy and annabeth met up on the outside benches. "first, if we're doing this, we need rules." "seriously, Jackson?" "Lists help me focus my thoughts."

Percy and Annabeth's rules: 'Annabeth will play with Percy's hair' 'Percy has to read at least one of Annabeth's favorite books' Annabeth has to watch Finding Nemo with Percy, because it's a classic' 'Annabeth will write Percy notes everday' Both people can never tell anybody the relationship is fake' 'Percy has to come to Annabeth's lacrosse games. And the parties.' Annabeth has to drive Percy and Tyson to school' 'Annabeth and Percy have to have better nicknames for each other than just their last names'

"You like the beach, right?" "Yeah, why?" "Then I'll call you Seaweed Brain." "I wish you wouldn't....Wise Girl"

And lastly, 'Percy must go on the school ski trip with me' Percy agreed, secretly thinking to himself that since it was three months away, they probably wouldn't still be doing this. but instead of saying that, he said, "Okay. Deal." both signed, then shook on it for extra measure

the next day, october 1st, their contract was put into motion. percy woke up, got ready for school, and sure enough, when he and tyson walked out of their house, there annabeth was, waiting to drive them in her jeep

as soon as they got into the car, annabeth turned to talk to tyson. "hey, little Percy, what's that?" "it's our mom's famous blue breakfast smoothie. and my name- thanks for asking- is Tyson. Ty to my friends. So, you can call me Tyson." Annabeth smiled, turned to Percy and said, "He's got spunk. I like him." tyson pretended not to hear but percy could tell he was pleased based on his small smile. he wasted no time, though, and immediately asked why the heck annabeth was driving them. "Well, I'm your brother's girlfriend." this response from annabeth came so suddenly that percy almost spit out all of his smoothie. "Can I try some of that, Tyson?" 'Sure' "Oh wow, that is really good. If I drive you guys to school again, will you get me another one of those?" "If you keep driving us to school, you can call me Ty."

as soon as percy and annabeth walked into school, percy knew that people knew. for one thing, when annabeth and percy walked to class together, people started saying his name, started noticing him. "Hey, Percy!" was like a chorus all around him- even from the principal, Mr. D- who had only ever called Percy "Peter" before

when percy and annabeth walked into lunch, annabeth threw her head back in a laugh, brought it down in between percy's shoulder and head, then reached up and played with his hair. she reached into her back pocket and pulled out a note. "This is for you." Annabeth reached up to kiss Percy's cheek and whispered in his ear a quiet "Good job" before breaking away from him, giving Percy a good view of Luke Castellan. And by good, Percy meant horrible. Luke managed to look equal parts bored and murderous at the same time, and Percy quickly made his way to the cafeteria for some water

right before he got into the doorway, percy was suddenly pulled back. "This Chase thing is fucking insane, Perc!" it was Grover Underwood, Percy's best friend since the beginning of middle school. grover never really talked to anybody at school, but instead preferred hanging out with college kids. he was probably the last person that percy thought would be excited over this. the rest of the day percy got equal reactions from everybody else, not to mention a lot of comments and compliments from random girls

when he got home, percy realized he hadn't called charlie or answered his calls in almost a week. it took him maybe two hours after getting home to work up the courage to call him. "Finally. I feel like we haven't talked in forever, so... lay everything on me." percy debated on how to start, before finally settling on first talking about literally anything and anybody else besides him, silena, or annabeth. "Mom and I are making her famous blue cookies for Ty's bake sale." "Bro, cookies? Nah, nah, you've got to do brownies. They're easier." percy was about to argue when charlie started on a different topic.

"So have you heard from Silena recently?"

of course, in regular percy fashion, he started rambling. "Silena? who? oh, like our neighbor? her? uh, well, no, we don't....I mean I- I'm going to go make the cookies. See ya!" quicker than charlie could reply bye, percy hung up.

he was in the middle of getting out ingredients when his doorbell rang. it was annabeth. "Did you not read my note? We're going to Clarisse's party tonight." percy opened his mouth just as his mom walked through the door. "Annabeth Chase? Oh, my, you grew up so beautifully! You're so tall now!" Sally Jackson pulled Annabeth into a quick, yet strong hug in welcoming. all it took was annabeth to mention the party for sally to not only tell percy he was going, but that she would bake the cookies for him, and that he couldn't be home before ten but also not after one. "Of course, no drugs! Other than that, please have fun."

before he knew it, percy found him and annabeth standing outside of Clarisse La Rue's house. just as Percy reached to pull his sweatshirt hood over his head, annabeth slapped his hand away. "what're you doing? your hair looks so much better when you don't have that hood over it. give it to me." after taking his sweatshirt, annabeth put it on herself. she took his phone, took a picture of herself, then set it as his lockscreen. for the finishing effect, she looped his arm around her shoulders and let him lead the way inside.

walking into the party was just as school had been; annabeth introduced percy to her friends, people said hi to him, etc. it took only about five minutes for luke to spot him, and when he did, he invited percy to sit. percy sat down on the couch where luke and the Stoll brothers were sitting together. "So, what's going on with you and Annie?" percy didn't even open his mouth before Connor and Travis were bombarding him with questions of how, when, everything. "Shut up, guys. It's not like they're ever gonna do anything. Annabeth has only been with me and...I bet Percy's never even kissed a girl before."

apparently he didn't care about percy's reaction, because luke suddenly left, and his spot was replaced by annabeth, holding a cup for both herself and percy. "Let's take a picture together- for my phone." percy stared at her dumbly for maybe ten seconds trying to figure out what to do. he finally settled on one of the most cliché poses he saw on insta- he kissed her cheek.

annabeth left to go talk to her team and suddenly percy was alone. just as fast as he was alone, he wasn't. suddenly thalia grace was there. "I guess your letter worked, huh? Don't worry, your secret's safe with me"

while percy and thalia talked, annabeth went to the bathroom. in perfect character, luke followed her in, and immediately started talking. "So Jackson, eh? That's cute. Oh! Is this his sweatshirt? Do you mind? It's chilly." Luke took the sweatshirt from where Annabeth had set it on the counter, but instead of wearing it, he tied it around his neck like a polo scarf. of course, annabeth asked for it back. "No, I think I'll keep it for awhile, okay Annie?"

annabeth found percy, and after saying goodbye to thalia, they headed over to the Big House Diner. as soon as they got there, annabeth praised and praised percy for his "excellence performance in making luke jealous." percy shrugged, but he could feel heat rising on his face. to add on to that heat, annabeth started talking about when they were kids. "you've always had better style than Luke, and i think it made him jealous. better hair, too." of course, all through dinner, annabeth's phone was blowing up- with texts from luke. "So you guys still talk, then?" percy knew how he sounded- jealous- but annabeth didn't comment on his tone. "Sometimes. Hey, don't judge!" "Don't call him tonight."

they spent the rest of the night talking about the love letters, why percy hadn't had a girlfriend yet, why annabeth was still hung up on luke, etc. after dinner, annabeth drove percy home, reminding him to be ready the next morning for school. percy got ready for bed after responding to Annabeth's new instagram post of them, but stayed awake for a long time. when he finally did fall asleep, he went to bed with a smile on his face

by november, they had the fake dating thing down pact. percy would eat with annabeth's lacrosse team at lunch and bring them some of his mom's baked goods, percy and annabeth would call each other nicknames, etc. percy had to admit it was a nice change of pace, but he still caught himself feeling a little bit lost sometimes. especially when he started noticing silena staring across the cafeteria at him everyday

it was maybe the fifth week of percy and annabeth's relationship when silena showed up at percy's door wanting to talk. "I can't believe you're dating Annabeth." percy let silena rant about this "unlikely relationship" before cutting her off to ask if there was anything else. "Did you mean everything...in the letter?" "I don't know, okay? It was a long time ago." "So what am I supposed to do? I'm not going to tell Charlie or anything; he doesn't even talk to me anymore. Gosh, are we not even friends anymore Percy?" "I'm sorry, Silena. We can't talk right now."

percy forced himself to stop thinking about silena, and instead put all his effort into his relationship with annabeth. the only problem? percy was worried about the endgame. his mom and tyson were both so attached to annabeth at that point that percy couldn't imagine how they'd react when their thing stopped. it wasn't just his family he was worried about, either. he had had multiple family dinners at the Chase house, and he found that he actually enjoyed them

not only were their families getting closer, percy realized that so were he and annabeth. sometimes when they talked, their relationship seemed so scarily real that he couldn't breathe. they would talk about how percy's dad had passed away, how annabeth had run away from home and had an absent mother, everything.

percy, instead of talking to annabeth, turned to silena instead. he talked about how he felt himself falling for annabeth, for real, and silena listened to everything he had to say without any input. of course, annabeth hated the fact they still talked, maybe just as much as percy hated seeing luke and annabeth talk

Percy became so worried that he was falling for annabeth that all he wanted to do was call the whole thing off. "You know, maybe we should just call it." "Not before the ski trip, Seaweed Brain!" "Fine. I'll go. But only if Grover comes with."

Percy asked Grover, assuming he would say no, then almost killed him when he answered yes. percy spent the weeks leading up to the trip split between packing and worrying. on the way there, he sat with grover and slept the entire time. when they got there, he not so subtlety ignored and evaded annabeth's attempts to hang out together. him and grover ended up rooming together, and when grover went out, percy invited thalia over to their room to talk. he told her all about annabeth, the letters, the fake relationship, the maybe real feelings, everything. of course, thalia told him to do something, anything. "She obviously likes you, you know."

before he could talk himself out of it, percy had put on a jersey over his boxes. he headed down to the hot tub where thalia said annabeth would probably be waiting. sure enough, when percy got there, annabeth was all alone. "Now you want to hang out? I wanted to sit next to you on the bus Percy, and you ignored me, you know." it took percy a solid two minutes to realize what annabeth was trying to get at. before he could second guess it, he was in the hot tub, and then he was only an inch away from annabeth's face. and then they were kissing. and then percy slipped, dragging annabeth under with him. but they were still kissing, and all percy could think was that this had to be the best underwater kiss of all time

after the hot tub, percy walked annabeth back to her room and they kissed goodnight. for the rest of the ski trip, they were like this- affectionate, happy, and real. the morning they were leaving, percy, as always, was late- the very last on the bus. when he finally got on the bus, it erupted in cheers. "Jackson, you dog!" people reached over to slap his back and shoulders as he made his way to sit by annabeth. he thought about asking annabeth about it, but no sooner than he sat down had she started using his shoulder as a pillow, so he decided to forget about it.

when they got back to school, luke stopped percy before he could leave. "It's so cool that you came on the ski trip, you know? Almost as cool as how understanding you are about Annie and I's friendship. Like, a lot of boys would be a little mad that their girlfriend slept in another guy's room, but you're just really mature I guess. Oh! And it's sweet how you're okay with Annie still giving me gifts, like this sweatshirt here. Anyway, have a great break, Jackson."

when Annabeth came over to drive percy home, he told her he'd rather walk instead. he headed home in the fifty degree weather, and had only been walking a minute before he broke into a full sprint. when percy got home, he was so distracted that he didn't see tyson in the living room. as always, tyson tackled him before he could even say hi. then, just as he broke away, suddenly charlie was there, hugging both of them. it was so good to have both his brothers there with him that percy almost forgot about annabeth. almost.

it was an hour before dinner when annabeth showed up, voice loud and eyes watering. "Nothing happened between me and Luke that night, okay? We have history, he was sad, I helped him, but nothing happened Percy."

percy could barely listen and had barely gotten a word in when a third voice stepped in. "Maybe you should leave, Annabeth." Silena stood next to Percy, back straight and protective. "This is why you want to break up? Not because of Luke and I, but her? Are you seriously in love with this...Kardashian wannabe?!" suddenly, there was a fourth voice. "You're in love with Silena?" "Charlie, c'mon man, wait! Both of you need to leave. Now" "You were never second best, Percy. I promise."

just as percy went to go talk to charlie, his phone rang. somebody had sent him a video- of him and annabeth in the hot tub. 'It's always the geeky guys that try to act hard, isn't it?' percy threw his phone and stayed in his room for almost two days straight. when he finally left, he went down the hall to charlie's room.

"I'm so stupid" percy and charlie talked about everything, the letters, the video, silena, annabeth; and by the third hour of talking, percy and charlie were no longer fighting, just catching up

"Let's not have anymore secrets between the Jackson brothers now, okay?" Tyson said as soon as he saw they had made up. "That includes me. I sent the letters, okay? I'm sorry." Percy smiled for only a minute before moving to attack Tyson with Charlie's punching glove. "If I can forgive you for writing Silena a letter, don't you think you can forgive Ty for sending them?" he hated it, but Percy couldn't argue with that logic, and he forgave tyson fast.

fast forward to new year's, and percy still hadn't talked to annabeth. instead, he spent most days at the community indoor pool, all day. it got so bad that one time his mom picked him up an hour earlier than usual. "Come on, let's go for a drive, alright?" after percy got dressed in sweats, his mom took him to the Big House. "Your father and I used to dance here, you know, using the jukebox." percy stayed quiet; his mother never talked about his father anymore, not ever since he was confirmed dead at sea. his mom used this silence to her advantage and continued to talking, but switched to a different topic. "Seeing you with Annabeth was really...good. For all of us, I think. You guys seem to really like each other."

when percy got back to school, the video had been taken down. of course, there was a photo on his locker of them. 'Told her not to trust him. I bet he slipped her something. She would never get into a hottub with him out of her own free-will.' while percy stared at the message, grover ripped it down, and suddenly annabeth was there, screaming. "Hey! It was my choice to get in that hottub. If you want to shame, shame me, but leave Percy out of it, because he didn't do anything wrong to me, okay? He's probably the nicest guy here and you're all just asshats that can't see it"

after her speech, annabeth headed over to percy. "I'm sorry." "I've got to talk to somebody else, first, Annabeth." Percy looked all around school until he found who he was looking for. "Seriously, Luke? What the hell's your problem, man?" "You, Percy. You have been since you kissed my girlfriend in seventh grade. You broke the bro code first, remember?" percy couldn't believe that luke cared about that kiss, maybe more so than percy had when he wrote annabeth her letter. percy suddenly wasn't mad at luke, he was....sorry? for him. he couldn't explain it, but it didn't seem worth fighting over anymore. percy stepped back from luke and let him leave.

after school, percy invited silena over. "You were the first girl I ever truly liked, but I didn't realize until you started dating Charlie. But, over time...that feeling faded away. And, I guess, I'm trying to say...I miss you. But not in a romantic qay, just as a best friend." "Well, duh! I miss my best friend too, Perc. Obviously, I'm not a big fan of your little miss perfect, but I like how she stood up for you. It takes a lot for girls to stand up in that way, especially since that video could wreck a future scholarship for her. maybe you should tell her you miss her" "What if it isn't as real to her as it is to me?"

percy and silena sat in silence for a while before tyson came downstairs with a cookie jar. it was the one percy tried to throw away- the one full of annabeth's notes to him. percy spent the next twenty minutes reading all the letters before he made up his mind.

percy got in his mom's car, drove all the way to school, and rushed across the field. annabeth, fresh off practice, stood in the middle, watching percy come to her. "I drove here." "Really?" "Yep. Okay, bye now." "Wait, Percy, wait. what's in your hand?" percy turned to leave, but annabeth grabbed his wrist. "Read me the letter, Percy."

percy opened the letter and closed it almost immediately, looking into annabeth's eyes instead. "I need you to know that I like you, Annabeth Chase, and not in a fake way." percy held his breath and got ready to hear bad news. instead, annabeth said, "Well, I'm in love with you, Seaweed Brain. Now, are you going to break my heart, or are you going to kiss me?"

"I'm never letting go of you again, you know that, Wise Girl?" "I know."

they kissed, and percy couldn't help but be happy that the letters had gotten out. after all, he knew that him and annabeth probably wouldn't be together without them.

[hati-writes]

Harry Potter and the Family who Loved him Year Two

What if Harry Potter had been raised by a family who gave him all the love and support he needed? What would change about the Harry Potter stories if Harry had been raised by the Weasleys rather than the Dursleys?

Part One is here

Link to the story on Ao3 is here

___

The summer after his first year at Hogwarts passed in a happy sunlit blur for Harry and his family. Ginny was highly excited to be going to Hogwarts in September and badgered Ron and Harry with a million questions as to what it would be like. Charlie gave them weekly updates on Norbert’s progress and the twins persuaded Harry and Ron to help them, ahem, “borrow” their dad’s battered muggle car to test that it worked well. They didn’t even crash it! Not that that made any difference to the scolding they all got when they returned home, breathless and delighted with themselves. Mrs Weasley was less than delighted and all four boys ended up de-gnoming the garden and pulling up weeds for hours. Still, it had been worth it they blithely decided.

It took almost two weeks for Harry to notice he wasn’t getting any mail, and even then only because Hermione mentioned in one of her letters to Ron that ‘I was surprised you would be better at replying to letters than Harry, can you tell him to hurry up and write back?’. Mystified Harry checked with his parents, Errol hadn’t brought any mail for him at all, and neither had Hedwig or any other owl.

Mr Weasley was alarmed when this was brought to his attention, being well aware of how difficult it was to interfere with the owl post. He consulted with his eldest son and Bill came home for a week to check up on the status of the house wards. They could find no evidence of tampering, which only made them more suspicious. Worried, Arthur invited over Moody to see if there was any dark magic around. Mrs Weasley threatened her children into behaving for their guest and chased them upstairs while Moody was examining the wards, for fear that the twins would play some sort of prank that would send Moody in a paranoid state and end up with the kitchen demolished or something.

Banished to their bedroom Harry and Ron had been playing chess when they were visited by a house elf. Ron was gobsmacked, Harry had been raised to be polite though and invited Dobby to sit down. This cued tears and self inflicted punishment. The boys did their best to keep him quiet, not wanting to incur their mother’s wrath any further. Dobby eventually revealed he had been stealing Harry’s mail and that Harry was not to go back to Hogwarts. As expected, Harry refused to consider that particular notion.

Dobby wouldn’t give up that easily however and sprinted downstairs, closely followed by Ron and Harry who were just in time to see him shoot a stinging hex at a distracted Mad Eye Moody and vanish. Moody, predictably, reacted like it was an attack from fully trained dark wizards and Harry and Ron leapt for cover as the wall behind them was blown to smithereens.

Moody apologised of course and managed to fix the wall up better than ever , but the damage was done. Ron and Harry were grounded for the rest of the summer. No flying, no visiting the village, no chess and all homework completed. Mrs Weasley even confiscated Harry’s new broom just to be certain there would be no illicit Quidditch games before school, no matter how much Harry begged that he needed to practise, he was on the team! Harry did notice that Ron got quiet whenever Harry mentioned that and resolved to discuss it with Hermionie when he next saw her. The other outcome of Harry and Ron being grounded was the twins getting bored enough to let Ginny play seriously with them. She was much better than anyone had realised actually. Harry was impressed.

When the time came for the Diagon Alley shop Ron and Harry were thrilled, they’d been itching to get out of the house for weeks now and the prospect of minor freedom was intoxicating. Harry of course knew how to use floo powder properly and, with no desire to incur his parent’s anger yet again, he went straight to Diagon Alley. There they met with Hermione and her parents as well as bumping into Hagrid. The bookstore was overflowing with middle aged witches with stars in their eyes and all the Weasley children eyed the banner proclaiming the author signing with apprehension. They were all too aware of their mother’s infatuation with the blond man, and none of them felt overly inclined to be favourable to him.

Lockhart never noticed Harry in the crowd, another red haired boy in second hand clothes standing with his family. Lucius Malfoy on the other hand was very aware of all of the Weasley’s, and the Potter they thought of as their own. His comments towards Hermione had Harry and his brothers furious, and then when he started on their father...well, if Arthur hadn’t punched Lucius then his children might have!

But there were no further incidents and September first and all the usual chaos of sending children off to school descended upon the Burrow. Even more so that usual, this was the first year that all the children in the house would be leaving! Six children to get up and dressed and fully packed for the eleven o’clock train to Hogwarts. Mrs Weasley had been heard to enthuse about all the relaxation she was going to get now she and Arthur would have the house to themselves. 

Harry and Ron waited for the rest of the family to go through the barrier before following. Or trying to. The barrier was blocked somehow, and they stared in dismay as the clock ticked over past the hour and the train left. Ron’s idea of taking the car was regarded as sheer genius by Harry and the two of them cheerfully set off to fly all the way to Scotland.

They rethought the plan after a few hours of hot, uncomfortable, and hungry driving. Even moreso when the invisibility booster failed and they had to be constantly wary of being spotted by muggles. They managed to get to school without any real incidents though. At least until they crashed into the Whomping Willow. They came out of that incident with several bruises and scratches each, a snapped wand and no car. Exchanging looks they came to the gloomy realisation that their mother was going to kill them, and when they went to the entrance hall and found Snape waiting for them they decided she might not get a chance.

Snape didn’t even say anything to them, just took them to his office, continuing to avoid looking at Harry, and leaving them there. The lack of shouting was somehow even more unnerving than threats of expulsion or dismemberment. Both brothers were convinced they were going to be thrown out. McGonagall shouted enough for two Snapes, and Dumbledore’s disappointment was even worse. The two eventually made their way up to Gryffindor Tower, still feeling as though they had narrowly escaped death or worse to be greeted by a disapproving and annoyed Hermione who thought they’d stolen the car just for  lark or something.

Discovering Lockhart was their new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher did not improve their first week. They’d already coped with seeing two red envelopes flying towards them at breakfast, both screeching discordantly at them while the rest of the school looked on and laughed. Harry had tried to hide behind a pile of sausages while Ron had gone brighter red than his hair. At least Hermionie seemed to think they’d been punished enough and was back to being their friend again. But that was small comfort for Harry as Lockhart corralled him outside Herbology, apologising elaborately for not recognising him earlier and assuring him that Lockhart would help his celebrity shine through, that Lockhart would be Harry’s guide and advisor and that he could make it so no one ever mistook Harry Potter for a Weasley ever again. Harry stiffly informed him that he was a Weasley and he didn’t want to be recognised as a celebrity. Lockhart seemed not to hear.

After dealing with Lockhart Harry was even more irritated to find a first year following him around with a camera and constantly calling him Harry Potter. Unsure of how best to deal with either situation he simply did his best to avoid both Colin Creevy and Lockhart. Which was difficult when one was your teacher and the other in your house. He was relieved when Quidditch came around, he’d spoken to Hermionie about Ron seeming upset over Harry being on the team and she’d had a suggestion he wanted to talk to Wood about.

Wood was eager to talk, and Harry’s suggestion made him nod thoughtfully, though he said he’d have to think it over. This was enough for Harry and he was smiling happily as they stepped out onto the pitch. Only to be faced by Draco and the Slytherin team. In the ensuing fight it was revealed just how badly Ron’s wand was broken. Ron, Harry and Hermionie retreated to Hagrid’s hut where Harry plunked his head on the table and declared this had definitely been his worst week of school ever.

School however did slowly improve, Harry and Ron fell into their usual routine of classes, homework, Quidditch practise and relaxing. Lockhart had claimed Harry for detention much to his annoyance and had him answering fan mail for hours on end. The detention was only finished when Harry heard a mysterious voice making threats from within the walls. Concerned he told his twin and his friend but they didn’t have any ideas.

Harry was also becoming worried about Ginny. She was his little sister, he’d known her as long as he could remember and Ginny was usually bright and chatty and full of questions and enjoyment in everything she did. But since coming to school she seemed to have become quiet and sad, withdrawn...almost washed out. Harry shared his worries with Ron, but neither of them were certain how best to help. Ginny denied anything was wrong whenever they pressed her about it.

Finally after Quidditch practise one night Wood held back Harry to talk to him, he admitted it was a good idea, to start to train up reserve players for Gryffindor team and he would let Ron try out for reserve keeper sometime soon. In his excitement to tell his twin the news Harry ran full pelt through the castle, slamming into Filch and getting in trouble yet again. Honestly, he’d been in trouble almost constantly this year, or at least it felt like he had! He did however get invited to a Death Day party by Nearly Headless Nick.

Unforunately the party ended with Harry, Hermionie and Ron standing next to a petrified Mrs Norris and half the school suspecting them of murder. Ron muttered that this seemed par the course for the way this year was heading. At least Dumbledore didn’t seem to think they’d done anything, though Snape seemed more suspicious, wondering aloud why they hadn’t been at the feast. 

Hermionie asked Binns about the Chamber of Secrets and all three of them became convinced Malfoy must be the heir. They began trying to think of a plan to find out the truth, hampered only by the disastrous end to Harry’s Quidditch match against Slytherin. As though he’d needed any extra reason to dislike Lockhart… Colin Creevy’s petrification and Dobby’s clandestine visit made their search for the truth even more important.

The duelling club was an unmitigated disaster, though considering who the host was that wasn’t really a surprise to anyone. Harry was well aware he was a Parselmouth of course, his mother had caught him earnestly trying to convince a grass snake to go and scare the twins after they’d turned Ron’s teddy into a spider. The next morning his dad had sat Harry down and carefully explained that there was nothing wrong with him, but people might get scared if they knew he could speak to snakes so he should only do it in an emergency. Harry deemed it an emergency when the snake seemed about to attack Justin Finch Fletchly and revealed his secret to the whole school.

His brothers and sister knew about it of course, and they stuck by him through the suspicion of the school. Ron never left his side, Percy took to lecturing groups of students on the history of Parseltongue, Ginny showed a flash of her old self and promised to play the worst possible prank on him to distract him (this one worried Harry, Ginny had a fiendish imagination) and the twins tried their level best to turn the whole situation into a joke, loudly proclaiming Harry was the Heir in such over the top ridiculous manner that no one seemed able to take the idea seriously.

Hermione’s idea for catching Draco turned out to be slow and difficult, but on Christmas morning the potion was ready. Mr and Mrs Weasley had practically begged all their children to come home for the holidays, all things considered but truthfully hadn’t been surprised when they’d all decided to stay, all of them were Gryffindors after all, they weren’t the type to run away from danger. Case in point Harry and Ron spent their Christmas afternoon sneaking into the Slytherin common room to question Malfoy. They got no useful information and both boys were only barely able to retrain themselves from getting into a fight when Malfoy began insulting their father. Only the failure of the Polyjuice kept Harry from punching Malfoy as hard as he could.

Ginny’s prank became obvious on Valentines day. Harry swore he would never forgive his younger sister as he tried his best to flee from the dwarf chasing behind him. Ginny leaned against the wall as he struggled, smirking and looking more like herself than she had in weeks. Harry’s bag ripped, throwing all his equipment everywhere, including the strange diary he’d found in Moaning Myrtle’s bathroom. Harry didn’t notice Ginny’s face turning white as she stared at the book, too preoccupied as he was by trying to gather his things and dealing with the laughter of everyone nearby.

That night Harry tried writing in the diary and soon had more answers about the heir of Slytherin than he might have wanted. Shaken and unsure, he and his brother discussed with Hermione how best to ask Hagrid about it. However, the diary was stolen away again before they could question it further, and by someone in Gryffindor tower at that! They grew ever more concerned and resolved they had to talk to Hagrid, no matter how awkward it might be. They decided to wait until after the Quidditch match that was upcoming. Ron had been training as reserve keeper since Christmas and was thrilled to be more of a part of the games, even if he wouldn’t be playing in this match. But before they could even kick off, the match was cancelled and Ron and Harry had to deal with the sudden loss of Hermione to petrification.

They snuck out to see Hagrid. But that ended with Hagrid arrested and Dumbledore pushed out of the school. All they were left with was a cryptic clue. Harry knew about Ron’s fear of spiders of course, he’d been there when the eight year old Fred had screamed at Ron in anger and Ron’s teddy had squirmed and warped until it was a spider half the size of the five year old. It had turned back after a few minutes of course, an eight year old’s accidental magic wasn’t that powerful really, but the damage had been done. Ron had thrown the teddy into the fireplace and hated spiders ever since.

But for Hermione Ron would face his deep seated terror of spiders. Once the spiders had been found he and Harry snuck out that very night and went deep into the Forbidden Forest. They met Aragog and barely escaped from him, only saved by the old and battered car they’d crashed into the Whomping WIllow months previously. No answers had been found in the forest and Harry and Ron returned to their beds dispirited and worried.

Harry realised that Moaning Myrtle had the key to the whole mystery and he and Ron snuck off to talk to her. After a brief detour by Hermione’s hospital room where they learned what sort of monster they were up against, they had all the answers they needed and were on their way to the teachers lounge when the announcement was made. Hiding in a cloak closet, listening as the teachers discussed what had happened. Both Harry and Ron felt as though they had suffered a physical blow when it was revealed who exactly had been taken by the monster.

Harry returned to the common room, feeling like his heart had shrivelled up into stone, how and Ron and him not noticed? Why hadn’t they taken better care of their little sister. He sat with his brothers, none of them saying much as they all tried not to contemplate the awfulness of reality. Harry felt the first pangs of real, true grief tug at him, and it was a relief when Ron and he decided to go and speak to Lockhart. Any task, any distraction was worth it right now.

Lockhart turned out to be a fraud and, reckless with grief and fear, Ron and Harry decided to go and fetch Ginny on their own. If there was even the slimmest chance their sister was still alive then they had to find her and bring her home safely. They found the entrance and, taking Lockhart with them, went down to battle a Basilisk and save their sister.

The fight was hard, Ron was separated from Harry. Lockhart tried to use Ron’s wand, broken during their crash landing at the Whomping Willow and ended up wiping his own memories. Harry continued on alone. Parseltongue got him through the doors to face the shadow of Tom Riddle. Tom Riddle who insisted on addressing him as Harry Potter, no matter how tersely Harry corrected him as to his surname. Tom Riddle who took Harry’s wand as he tried to lift up his younger sister to carry her to safety. Tom Riddle who revealed his true name as Lord Voldemort and brought forth the Basilisk. Harry barely survived the fight with Slytherin’s monster but with the help of Fawkes and the sorting hat, he overcame the diary and the beast both, driving the Basilisk fang deep into the pages of the slim volume and watching the ink pool and splash. Behind him Ginny woke up with a gasp.

Ginny was crying and apologising, trying to explain how she’d wanted to come and talk to her brothers, but that she felt like she’d betrayed Harry. Because Harry was her brother and she knew that was all he ever wanted to be, but Tom had become obsessed when she’d let slip about Harry’s past and Ginny had felt as though she’d betrayed her brother by revealing his original surname. The guilt had stopped her coming to her family for help until she was too far under Tom’s control. Harry hugged her and told her it was alright, he didn’t blame her at all, he was just relieved she was safe. Then Fawkes guided Ginny, Harry, Ron and the befuddled Lockhart out of the Basilisk’s lair and to the safety of Dumbledore and their parents.

The Weasley’s cried and hugged all their children close, half scolding, half praising them. Harry and Ron told Dumbledore their story and Ginny tearfully confessed to her part when Dumbledore asked how Voldemort had enchanted a Hogwarts student. Dumbledore asked Harry to stay behind after everyone else left, but Ron insisted on staying with his twin and Harry nodded when Dumbledore looked at him questioningly. Dumbledore explained about the sword, and the true meaning of courage.

Moments later Lucius arrived. Harry and Ron both instantly recognised Dobby and in a single glance they formed a plan, Dobby may have got them into a lot of trouble over the year, but he didn’t deserve to be treated like that. Ron ran ahead to slow down Lucius as Harry quickly took the diary back and stuffed it inside a sock. A few minutes later Dobby had been freed and Ron and Harry ran down to the Feast, laughing and happy again. The year had been full of trouble, but everything was made right again as Hagrid came back, and Hermione ran over to hug them both, and all their brothers were over the moon to have their whole family safe and well again. Gryffindor won and Harry thought his face would tear he was smiling so hard. All was right in the world once more.

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[carewyncromwell]

[Ficlet] Take a Chance on Me

...Hey, I said I might add onto the ficlet I did of how Carewyn joined the Slytherin Quidditch team for a game back in her third year! >>; This is based on Quidditch Season 1 Chapter 6, AKA the major plot turn before MC, Orion, Skye, and their house Quidditch team’s first match. (In this case, Slytherin VS Hufflepuff!)

For those of you who didn’t read the last ficlet and want to just jump into this one -- Carewyn (soon to be “Mama-Bear”) Cromwell is a third year Slytherin, with Orion, Skye, McNully, and Rath all being one year ahead of her. This will also be the only Quidditch match Carewyn plays until the tail end of her sixth year, which you can read about with this Quest of the Quidditch tag I made! Also as a note, since there is some art under the cut -- Orion, in my canon, doesn’t look the way he does in the game until his sixth year or so (namely, with his facial hair), hence why he looks a bit more boyish in how I drew him! (It is amazing how much younger Orion looks without the stubble!!) And yeah, even if Carewyn and Orion eventually become a couple post-Hogwarts, their relationship won’t really be explicitly romantic here, even if the strong platonic chemistry will definitely be there. 😊

Hope you enjoy! 💚

x~x~x~x

The Slytherin VS Hufflepuff Quidditch match was scheduled for the first weekend of November. With less than a week remaining, both houses were getting very excited -- Carewyn could tell her friend Penny Haywood was having trouble knowing whether to be more thrilled for her house team or for Carewyn.

“Well, there are a lot of people who don’t make the team on their first try!” Penny had said to Carewyn when she learned the news. “Gosh, Carewyn -- I know you’ll be flying up against my team, but...watching you play in a real Quidditch match will be even more fun than just watching one with you!”

Charlie and Andre were also thrilled. 

“I knew you could do it, Carey!” said Charlie, beaming from ear to ear. “C’mere!”

He looped an arm around her neck and squeezed her against his side in a hug. 

“Mm, I can’t say I knew, given Orion Amari’s reputation,” said Andre, though his face still broke into a grin, “but I’m glad that however odd he is, at least he can see raw talent when it’s placed in front of him! It’ll be so much more exciting to have you on the Pitch too, Cursebreaker.”

Though inwardly hating the nickname, Carewyn still gave them her best smile. “Thanks...”

~~~

The first couple of Slytherin team practices were largely based on teamwork exercises, so as to “strengthen the bond” between Carewyn and the rest of her teammates. She knew her fellow Chasers Orion and Skye already, of course, but Orion wanted to make sure she was likewise on good terms with their Beaters -- a pair of muscular seventh-years called King and Shacklebolt -- their very tall sixth-year Keeper Crockett, and their pretty seventh-year Seeker, Anika Lucky. 

If Carewyn’s petite height and lack of muscles weren’t noticeable before, it was comically apparent when she stood alongside the rest of the Slytherin team -- even Skye, the smallest of them, still towered a good ten inches over 4′9″ Carewyn. Fortunately, although most of the Slytherin team gave Carewyn a slightly confused side-eye when she first arrived for practice, they all reacted a little differently after Orion challenged the team to break his record of balancing on their brooms (2 hours, 52 minutes and 31.2 seconds, according to McNully), and Carewyn was the only one who kept up with Skye all the way up until the end. 

“And then there were two,” sighed Shacklebolt rather tiredly, when he finally had to give up and sit back down on his broom, massaging his leg. 

Crockett looked at Orion with something of a weak smile. “Come on, Orion...maybe we should call this off. We can’t exactly break the record for balancing on one leg together when most of us are sitting down...”

“Ah, but if one of us breaks the record, then we all break the record,” said Orion with a smile. 

Skye crossed her arms from her position balancing on her broom. “The one who breaks the record will get credit, though, right?”

“A victory for one is a victory for all,” Orion said mellowly, “and for that, we should celebrate on behalf of that one.”

Carewyn opened her eyes. She’d been keeping them closed and singing songs in her head, to try to help her ignore how much her leg was hurting and how much time was passing. When she glanced at Skye, she noticed a line of sweat appearing on her brow. 

“...How close are we to our goal, Orion?” asked Carewyn. 

“Only time will tell,” answered Orion.

Skye frowned sourly. “Right -- that was Carewyn’s question: tell us the time.”

“The moment is near,” said Orion with a twinkle in his eye, “but who’s counting?”

“MCNULLY!” Skye bellowed up at the stands in exasperation. “YOU’D BETTER BLOODY WELL BE COUNTING UP THERE, OR I SWEAR I’LL BEAT BOTH YOU AND ORION BLACK AND BLUE!”

The Beaters both sighed and shook their heads.

“Here he goes again,” muttered Shacklebolt.

“I think he’s gone even deeper into his own head since becoming Captain,” King agreed under her breath, sounding both rather tired and slightly amused. 

Carewyn turned to Orion, her almond-shaped blue eyes becoming a bit more serious. 

“Orion, a Niffler is able to chase gold so well because it can smell when it’s close,” she said in an oddly stern voice. “It’d probably be a lot easier for Skye and me to reach our goal if we also knew how close we were to it.”

The other Slytherins all blinked at the tiny third-year, taken aback by her assertiveness. Orion, however, only grinned. 

“Is not the journey a kind of treasure in itself, however?” he said. “After all...you and Skye have united so well in this endeavor, despite your apparent differences.”

“Yes,” granted Carewyn, her voice staying rather firm, “but if you want both of us -- and therefore all of us -- to break the record, then it stands to reason that both Skye and I should be of the same mind. And Skye and I would both like to know how close we are to bringing our team victory.”

“Right,” said Skye, a bit more impatiently. “So will you go ask McNully how much time is left already?”

Orion’s black eyes sparkled with mischief. “It’s so fascinating, how full of fire you both are, and yet how differently colored your flames are.”

He looked up at the stands. When he caught McNully’s eye, he threw up his fist into the air in silent celebration.

“That’s it?!” said Skye eagerly, sounding immensely relieved. “A new record? Finally!”

She immediately sat down -- Carewyn, however, did not, and she was glad of it, for sure enough, Orion turned back around with a grin and said, 

“McNully’s just informed me that we’re in the final countdown!”

The team all covered their faces with their hands. Skye’s mouth dropped open. 

“What?!” she yelped. “Are you kidding -- I wouldn’t have sat yet!”

“Why did you?” Orion teased good-naturedly. “I thought you wanted to be the last one standing.”

Skye looked like steam was coming out of her ears. Carewyn fixed Orion with a rather reproachful look. 

“Orion, that wasn’t nice!” the much smaller girl scolded him the way she sometimes did Jacob when she was little. “Skye really had her heart set on beating your record.”

Orion’s amusement actually dimmed slightly. After a moment, his expression turned a bit softer upon both Skye and Carewyn. 

“Fortunately she did beat it,” he said, gesturing to Carewyn still balancing on her broom, “through her student.”

Carewyn raised her eyebrow, looking from Orion to up at McNully in the commentary box. “So the record has been broken now?”

“Indeed,” said Orion with a proud smile, exchanging a nod with McNully. “McNully-confirmed. Congratulations, team -- we did it!”

The team all breathed a sigh of relief, except for Skye, who still looked sour. 

“Carewyn did it, this time,” she said begrudgingly. “Congratulations, Carewyn.”

Carewyn lowered herself back down onto her broom, averting her eyes and massaging her burning thigh. “Thanks.”

She was proud that she was able to prove herself, after it’d taken her three whole hours just to figure out how to even balance like that in the first place...even if she didn’t love the fact that Skye was clearly bitter about it. 

“I must admit, though, Carewyn, I’m a bit disappointed,” said Orion. “Not once in all that time did you share any of your meditation songs with us.”

The team, including Skye, once again turned to look at Carewyn, surprised. Carewyn flushed. 

“Well, you said I could do it whenever we meditate together, as in the two of us,” she said rather huffily, closing her eyes and putting up her nose. “I didn’t want to break anyone else’s concentration.”

“A kind thought,” said Orion. “But perhaps next time, we can see if it actually helps our team’s focus. We’ll need all the focus and teamwork possible, in our match against Hufflepuff.”

~~~

The Slytherin team soon found themselves very happy with Orion’s choice. Carewyn not only was a very talented Chaser with excellent speed and aim, but she also seemed to know just how to talk to Orion on his terms and keep him a bit more grounded. And when she did end up singing during their practices, it actually turned out to be kind of a fun way to pass the time too. The players who’d been born in magical families like Skye in particular found it interesting to hear Muggle songs they’d never been exposed to before. 

“If you're all alone, When the pretty birds have flown, Honey, I'm still free -- Take a chance on me! Gonna do my very best, And it ain't no lie -- If you put me to the test, If you let me try...”

Carewyn did notice, however, that their practices were being watched -- and not just by Murphy McNully, either. 

“It’s not abnormal for other teams to want to get a peek at new players before a match, so they can get information they can use while building their team strategies,” McNully told her. “Most opposing players try to be subtle about it, but Ulrich Dylan -- that’s Hufflepuff’s Captain -- is not. Ravenclaw’s whole team isn’t either...especially Erika Rath -- she always makes it a point to get a good look at any new opponents. And well, admittedly, there’s nothing banning them from coming to watch our practices, so I guess they don’t feel the need to hide it.”

Carewyn considered this. “...Maybe they see it as a way to intimidate us too -- you know, being so confident in letting us know that they see us, and that they’re judging us.”

Kind of like how I felt a bit intimidated by Orion, while he was watching me fall off my broom for three hours. 

McNully nodded. “Not a bad theory! Ravenclaw in particular has already won the Quidditch Cup two years in a row, so they definitely have some cause to be confident. Just with their current line-up, I’d say there’s a 38% chance they’ll win the Cup again.”

Considering that was well over 1/4, Carewyn didn’t like those odds. Seeing the frown on her face, McNully smiled. 

“Don’t worry, Carewyn -- we do have one ace up our sleeve, when it comes to strategy. Only Slytherin knows how to do the Thimblerig Shuffle properly, as of yet -- therefore if we use it, I’d say we stand a 87.3% chance of throwing Hufflepuff off their game.”

Carewyn smiled. “That’s great!”

“Glad you agree!” said McNully. He then rubbed the back of his neck a bit awkwardly. “There’s...just one thing: Orion would have to actually use it, in the match. And well, we both know Orion -- the odds of him using it don’t go above 43%...” His face then burst into a smile. “...buuuut I’d say if you put in a good word with him, he might be more willing to listen!”

Carewyn looked confused. “Why me? You’re Orion’s friend too, aren’t you?”

“Of course! But Orion and I are still very different people. We have trouble speaking the same language sometimes. Honestly, I’d say I only understand what he’s trying to say about 72% of the time,” McNully added under his breath. “But you and he already seem to have a good rapport -- I reckon you bringing up the Thimblerig Shuffle to Orion would improve his odds of using it by a good 10%!”

Carewyn still wasn’t entirely sure, but she gave McNully a reassuring nod. “Well, I’ll try, anyway.”

~~~

Carewyn asked Orion to meet her before practice. She wanted to make absolutely sure that none of the other team’s players would be listening in. When Orion saw her approach, he smiled broadly. 

“Greetings, Breaker of Records,” he said amusedly. 

Carewyn frowned. The nickname reminded her unpleasantly of Andre’s “Cursebreaker” moniker for her. 

“Hi, Orion...thanks for coming early.”

Orion seemed to notice the shift in her expression -- it made his eyes soften slightly, becoming a bit more serious.

“We’re members of the same Quidditch family now, Carewyn,” he said gently. “Therefore my time is our time...and we can always find time to find balance together.”

Carewyn smiled slightly, feeling a bit reassured. “...Well, it’s less about balance and more about...well, about the match against Hufflepuff.”

“I think those two things are very much entwined,” said Orion.

“In a way, yes...but well, I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but we’ve had a lot of company in the stands, while we’re practicing. Like Hufflepuff’s Captain.”

Orion nodded. “I have seen him.”

“Well, McNully thinks he’s been stopping by to get a good look at me, and the rest of the team,” said Carewyn seriously. “That way he can use whatever information he can get about us in his team’s strategy. And...well, I know you don’t think strategical skills will determine our path...but it seems like we should use all of the strengths we have to our advantage, right?”

Orion crossed his legs around his broom so that he could actually take his hands off of it and cross his arms idly over his chest. 

“I agree,” he said quietly, but it seemed clear he was waiting for her to reach her conclusion, rather than being completely onboard. 

“Well,” Carewyn plowed on, “right now, we’re the only Quidditch team who knows how to do the Thimblerig Shuffle -- you know, the move McNully made up?”

Orion nodded slowly. “I remember. Quintessential McNully -- magical in its complexity, and complex in its magic.”

Carewyn gave a nod of her own. “It’s really a very clever move...it would definitely throw Hufflepuff off-balance, which could only help us out. And well, considering McNully’s your friend, I reckon it would mean a lot to him, if you considered using it.”

Orion raised his eyebrows rather coolly. “You clearly have been a very good friend to McNully already, speaking on his behalf. Though I don’t know if I appreciate him using the Slytherin team in a strategy to coax their Captain to his way of thinking.”

Carewyn felt her gaze slipping down to her broom, but she tried to hold her ground. “I really don’t think McNully was trying to pressure you, Orion. I think he just really wants us to win -- you to win. Planning things out is just how his mind works...and he is pretty good at it. I learned a lot about Quidditch from him.”

“You and McNully do both enjoy your plans and strategies,” said Orion. 

His face then spread into a wryer smile. 

“I, however, have a different strategy in mind -- the absence of strategy.” 

Carewyn wanted to be surprised, but she wasn’t. It still didn’t make the lump that settled into her stomach any less heavy. 

“...Then...you have no plan at all, for us to win?” she asked, a bit shakily. 

Orion’s black eyes twinkled. “Indeed. Let me show you.”

Within seconds, he’d easily leapt up onto his broom, so that he was balancing on it. Rather than before, though, he used both feet and actually surfed on the back of it, as if he were on a surfboard soaring through the air. Unlike a surfer on ocean waves, however, Orion was able to go completely upside down and around, balancing perfectly as if he and his broom were one and the same. 

Carewyn found herself unable to tear her eyes away. Orion did, in fact, look pretty damn cool. 

Her eyes were as wide as dinner plates as she followed his zigzagging moves around the Pitch -- and little by little, she found her lips spreading into an awed, open-mouthed smile. 

Her reaction made Orion grin. 

“Inspired Broom Surfing!” he called down to her. “That is its name, and that is what all shall call it.”

“Did you...did you invent this yourself?” asked Carewyn, disbelievingly. 

“It’s the product of inspiration, not invention,” said Orion. “I thought of it, and so I do it.”

He looped in several circles over Carewyn’s head with apparent ease.

“Surfing the skies distracts the competition. They, too, shall wish to surf like this...”

He weaved in a tight “S” shape that reminded Carewyn of a figure skater on ice. 

“...and yet, it also showcases one’s individual talent, and magnifies it! For most Quidditch players, even the best, never take the time to become one with their brooms -- but you can be an exception.”

Carewyn’s eyes and smile were very bright. ‘So you can psyche your opponent out, just with your confidence! And because you’ve got both hands open to hold the Quaffle, it’ll be harder for the opposing team to steal it too!’

“That’s...it’s brilliant, Orion!”

The praise definitely seemed to boost Orion’s ego. He flew completely upside down in a circle before coming to a stop beside Carewyn, grinning broadly. 

“Would you like to learn?” he asked.

Carewyn looked down at Orion’s Cleansweep and then down on her old rundown Shooting Star. 

“I definitely won’t be as good as you,” she said as offhandedly as she could. 

Orion’s black eyes sparkled. “We’ll see about that. Now come -- balance first.”

Carewyn followed his lead, balancing on her broom the way he did. 

“Forget technique,” he instructed, “forget form. Just be one with the broom.”

Carewyn started off slow, trying to weave. There were one or two points she felt like she was going to fall off, but she just managed to sweep her broom around enough to catch herself. Orion meanwhile swept around her in spirals to observe her. 

“Do not broom surf with intent. You should only ever do this when the feeling is right, not when logic dictates.”

Carewyn sped up a bit in her weaving, tilting her broom up so that she hovered a bit higher. She then tried to aim herself toward the hoops -- she charged ahead, and then looped back around in a “j” shape. Orion followed, shimmying around her. 

“Good,” said Orion. “Good -- let go -- ”

Carewyn urged her broom a little faster and Orion took off after her. Soon they were weaving around each other, Orion coming up and over her. Carewyn brought her arms up on either side of her to help her shift balance as if she was on roller skates, and she soon found herself laughing. This was fun!

“How...how am I doing?” she asked as she tried to catch her breath. 

Orion’s smile was broader than Carewyn had ever seen it, so much so that it made his black eyes squint slightly. “You look like you’ve been broom surfing like that your entire life, Carewyn Cromwell.”

They finally came to a halt in the middle of the pitch. Orion nimbly leapt back down onto his broom in a seated position again -- Carewyn took a bit more time to gradually lower herself back down. 

“Hufflepuff will not be able to take their eyes off you,” Orion said confidently. “And it’s while they are distracted that we will be able to rack up points.”

Carewyn adjusted her ponytail as best she could with one hand. 

“It really is brilliant, Orion,�� she said kindly, “but...well, isn’t that a strategy in itself, that I’ll distract the Hufflepuffs, while you and Skye score points?”

“To some, perhaps,” said Orion. “But all of it will only be if the time and feelings are right. I don’t believe in planning things out too far ahead. None of us are Seers who can divine the future, so can we truly know whether any plans we make will fit in with how that future will take shape?”

“No,” granted Carewyn, “but that doesn’t mean you can’t make a plan and hope for the best anyhow. Or better yet, make a back-up plan, just in case things don’t go the way you want...”

Orion raised an eyebrow. “You and McNully believe Hufflepuff’s Captain came to watch our practices so as to make a strategy, correct? It stands to reason, then, that he’s channeling the Demiguise as best he can.”

“The Demiguise?” prompted Carewyn. 

“Trying to predict our own strategy in the upcoming match, through watching our interactions and team dynamics,” said Orion simply. “If, however, we go in with no strategy, there’ll be nothing for Hufflepuff to latch onto. That mystery works in our favor.” 

“But it also might make it harder for us to fly as one team,” Carewyn pointed out, trying to mirror Orion’s level tone but not quite succeeding due to her sincere concern. “I can Broom Surf now, Orion, but I can’t do it as well as you. Only you will likely ever be able to do it as well as you do...because no one could be exactly like you. And well...no one else sees the world quite like you do, either. It’s brilliant, really,” she added quickly. “It’s cool that you don’t act how people expect you to, or see the world like everyone else does. But...I don’t know, I guess it’d be a lot easier for the rest of the team to be on the same page as you, if you choose a book that you can read together. If that makes sense.”

Orion considered Carewyn for a moment, his unreadable black eyes trailing over her face.

“It does,” he said at last. 

He looked up at the stands. 

“It appears that our ‘guest’ has arrived,” he changed the subject dryly. 

Carewyn looked up. Sure enough, she saw the very tall, broad-chested Hufflepuff Quidditch Captain, Ulrich Dylan, confidently striding across the stands and plopping himself down. He rested his arms on the edge of the stands as he stared down at them. Carewyn’s eyes narrowed up at him. 

“As has the rest of our team,” added Orion a bit more pleasantly. 

Sure enough, the rest of the Slytherins -- Skye in front -- flew out onto the pitch to join them.

“Hey, Orion,” greeted Crockett brightly. “Hey, Carewyn. Looks like you’ve both got a...‘broom with a view?’ Eh? Get it?”

Carewyn couldn’t help but wince, even though she tried to smile. 

“Will you lay off with the puns?” said Skye, rolling her eyes exasperatedly. “You stretch farther with those than I do trying to reach the Quaffle...”

“But it’s part of what being Keeper is!” Crockett said playfully. “Everybody knows that...and you know I’m a Keeper! All the ladies say so.”

“All the ladies except us,” said Lucky, who’d covered her face with her hand. 

“And we have to be subjected to your jokes,” added King with a roll of her eyes. 

Skye shifted gears as she looked at Carewyn, offering her a determined look. “Ready for practice, Carewyn?”

Carewyn forced herself to look away from the Hufflepuff Captain in the stands, giving Skye a confident nod. “Mm-hmm.”

“The time has come for our time,” said Orion serenely. “Our first exercise will be helping each other through sabotaging each other. Our Beaters and Seeker will play as opposition to our Chasers and Keeper, so that we may practice saving and blocking goals.”

Carewyn looked at Orion with a teasing smirk. “Sounds like a plan.” 

Orion smiled very wryly at her in return. 

~~~

Orion asked the rest of the team to stay after practice for a team meeting. The team waited around so long for the meeting, though, that they soon occupied themselves with idle conversation. Hufflepuff’s Quidditch Captain had left over fifteen minutes ago, and Carewyn was glad to see him gone.

Skye stretched her arms over her head and sighed tiredly. “Ugh...I’m going to give Orion a good smack for this. Asks us to stay after for a team meeting, and then completely forgets to start it...”

“You shouldn’t hit him,” said Carewyn reproachfully, her voice coming out a bit whiny despite her best efforts. 

“Ah, come on, Carewyn, I don’t mean it like that,” said Skye with a shake of her head. She smiled. “So anyway -- what did I miss before? What were you and Orion doing here so early?”

Carewyn took her hair out of its ponytail, looping the red scrunchie around her wrist so she could redo it. “Orion taught me how to do this Quidditch move he created -- it’s called Inspired Broom Surfing...”

Skye grinned. “Ah yeah, that thing! I reckon Orion sees it as a future signature move for him, as a player. Don’t know if I’d go that far, but hey, it’s a fun way to waste time.”

“I don’t think it wastes time,” said Carewyn, frowning slightly as she put down her now much tidier ponytail. “I think it’s rather brilliant, actually. If we’re going to beat Hufflepuff, I reckon us looking confident and fearless to the opposing team would be pretty helpful.”

“The only thing we need to defeat Hufflepuff is Parkin’s Pincer,” Skye said confidently. “They might expect it, but they can’t stop it.”

Carewyn frowned. “But...if they do expect it, then they could still make a strategy to counteract it, right?”

“Not when we do it perfectly,” said Skye. “And you and Orion both know how to do it perfectly -- I’ve made sure of that.”

Carewyn couldn’t help but disagree, but decided not to push the issue. Instead she sighed. 

“Well, I guess in the end, it’s really up to Orion -- he is team Captain. I guess I just wish he’d consider making more of a plan...I mean, I always feel better whenever I’m doing something difficult, when I know I’m prepared and I’ve planned ahead.”

I don’t think I would’ve been able to deal with the Ice Vault at all, if I hadn’t practiced Incendio with Bill first. And it felt good knowing that he and Ben were there to help me too, since they both knew the spell really well. 

Skye’s face became a bit more serious. “Yeah, that’s really not Orion’s style.”

She brought a hand onto the smaller girl’s shoulder and gave it a squeeze. 

“Don’t worry your little red head about it, though,” she said with a smile. “Orion may be a weirdo, but he’s been known to make the right call, when it counts. You just focus on being a smashing Chaser, and let us more senior players worry about it. Nobody will be expecting the newest player to make any major decisions during the match anyway -- ”

“That’s it! That’s what we’ll do!”

Everyone gave a start. 

Orion, without anyone noticing, had settled himself overhead on his broom, sitting on it as if it were a swing. As he leapt back down to the ground, however, sweeping his broom out from under him with a flourish, he was grinning as excitedly as a kid at Christmas, his eyes on Skye and Carewyn.

“Orion?” said Carewyn, startled. “When did you -- ?”

“Is the meeting finally starting now?” asked Lucky. 

Orion brought his broom up onto his shoulders behind his head, still grinning broadly. “This is the team meeting. I simply stand back and observe my teammates interacting in an unstructured setting.”

Skye wrinkled her nose in revulsion. “Orion! Most people call that snooping!”

“I prefer the term ‘discovery,’” Orion said smoothly. “And sure enough, it put a spotlight on your idea...”

“My what?”

Orion turned to the rest of the team, his broad smile never shifting. 

“My teammates, we shall do the unexpected, to win our first House match. Hufflepuff, as well as everyone else, expects me to make the big decisions -- but instead, our newest player will.”

His black eyes and white smile were both gleaming with determination as he turned to Carewyn. 

“In this match, Carewyn Cromwell will call the shots.”

Everyone on the team was so taken aback that they all stared at Carewyn, and then Orion, and back. Carewyn herself had lost all of the color in her face.

W...what?

She couldn’t do anything except gawk at Orion in disbelief. She looked around at the rest of the team helplessly -- Skye looked almost more horrified than Carewyn, as well as angry. 

“What?! Orion, are you mad!?”

“Not in the least,” said Orion breezily. “I’m quite content with my decision.”

“Orion -- you can’t be -- ” started Shacklebolt.

But the Quidditch Captain had already turned around, his lips upturned in a rather proud smirk as he rested his arms over the broom on his shoulder.

“Our new leadership will not be discussed outside of the Changing Room,” he said levelly, “lest our opponents catch wind of it. And when next we fly and Ulrich Dylan’s eyes are on us, we will practice as we always have.”

He glanced over his shoulder at Carewyn, his black eyes twinkling. 

“You sang your commitment to us yourself, Carewyn. And now...we’ll take a chance on you.”

By the time Carewyn recollected herself enough to try to argue, Orion was already gone. 

[dotzilaa]

The Star Player

Writer’s Month Day Seven! Today’s prompt is Sports.

Summary: Supernatural High School AU where Castiel is the yearbook photographer along with Charlie and he needs to get pictures of the soccer team for the final game of the season, and he might have a major crush on the star player, Dean. 

Word Count: 1951 (this is a long one)

   Castiel carefully grips his camera around his neck as he jogs towards the soccer field. The game starts in twenty minutes and he needs to get a picture before the sun goes down. It’s the last game of the season, everyone is hyped, and the team has the homefield advantage. Charlie wants to get a before and after shot of them, so Castiel needs to get there now.

   The team is thankfully on the field already and he makes his way over to the coach. Bobby looks up from his clipboard as he approaches, and he holds up his camera in response. He’s already told Bobby what he needed so all he does is blow his whistle and Castiel flinches.

   “Boys! Get over here!” It takes a minute or two before all of them are gathered around the pair. He catches Dean’s eye and he gives Castiel a blinding smile. Castiel looks away, face flushing a bit. “Castiel here needs to get your picture so line up. You know what to do.” As he waits, he spots Charlie over with the cheerleaders and he refrains from rolling his eyes. She’s supposed to be doing the same thing as him, but he knows she’s just flirting. He looks back to the team and gestures for Bobby to join them. He rolls his eyes but does so.

   He takes a couple steps away and starts snapping pictures, he promises them that if he gets a couple serious ones, they can do goofy ones. Once he gives the go ahead one person immediately jumps on another’s back, another has one in a faux choke hold and many have sprouted bunny ears. He shakes his head but snaps the pictures. Most of them change poses and when he’s done, they crowd around him to see. Dean all but pushes right up against him, throwing an arm over his shoulders and heat seeps into his shoulders.

   “These are great Cas!” Dean smiles that smile again and Castiel can’t stop himself from smiling back.

   “Thank you, Dean.”

   “You’re gonna be a famous photographer one of these days. Just you wait.” Castiel chuckles and looks away from him to make sure that no one will drop his camera.

   “That’s very kind of you.” He replies.

   “Take the compliment Cas. You’re fantastic.” He ruffles Castiel’s hair and then he’s off, calling the rest of the team to get back to warming up.

   Castiel walks over to the benches where the team sits, dropping his bag next to one end and going through the pictures again. He’s already choosing which ones he should use and how to edit them a bit. The lighting and cropping could be better. He rechecks his memory once again, just to make sure that he has enough room for the rest of the game.

   He walks over to Charlie who he knows for sure is flirting because he can hear the giggles from the cheerleaders. She barely spares him a glance as he comes to stand right next to her.

   “So, they’re doing a marathon of the Star Wars movies at the theatre, you only have to pay a little bit more but going will be totally cool. I’m friends with one of the ushers and he said that refills on popcorn and drinks will be free. You want to join me?” The cheerleader she’s talking to looks totally enamored and Castiel holds back a snort.

   “Totally! Sounds really fun. Is it this weekend?”

   “Yep!”

   “Hold on.” She quickly runs to her bag and Charlie sends a smile to Castiel and Castiel only shakes his head. She comes back holding a pen and Charlie diligently holds her arm out for her. The cheerleader writes her number and parts with a text me. Castiel leads Charlie back to where he’s set his stuff.

   “What’s her name?”

   “Anna. And she’s only doing cheerleading because of her mom and she’s totally awesome. She like Star Wars and Star Trek and it a total art nerd. I think I’m in love.”

   “You always think that.”

   “It’s just…” Charlie sighs dramatically. “Girls are so easy to love. Besides, enough about my love life.”

   “You mean we’re not gonna talk about your love life? Oh, the horror!” Charlie playfully shoves him.

   “I’m talking about your love life.”

   “What? Like how nonexistent it is?” Charlie scoffs.

    “Its not nonexistent! You definitely have something going on with Dean.” Castiel huffs.

   “Will you drop this already?”

   “Never.” Castiel sighs, running a hand through his hair. “He’s completely over the moon for you. I don’t think there’s a thing he wouldn’t do for you. All you’d have to do is bat your lashes and pout and he’ll do it without question.”

   “He would not!” Charlie gives him a look.

   “Mmhm.” They settle onto the bench and Castiel hands her his camera so she can look at the pictures. “These are good. I’m thinking we can even use one of the goofy ones in the back of the book.” They devolve into talking about the yearbook and how it’s going to be organized.

   Castiel settles down when the game starts, and Charlie runs off to see if she can get decent pictures of the players as they play for the first half. Castiel brings out his phone, content to just scroll through social media until halftime. He cheers when everyone else does though and does look up from time to time to watch.

   He shuts his phone off when he sees a post talking about fucking pennywise erotica and watches the game hoping that it’ll cleanse his mind. He’s already sent a link to Charlie anyways. His eyes almost immediately pick Dean out and he thinks back to what Charlie said.

   Dean and he met when Dean needed tutoring in his English class because he needed to keep his grades up. Ever since then, they’ve practically been inseparable. Hanging out at each other’s houses, hanging out after games, playing videogames. Its been fun, being with Dean. But he’s not over the moon with him. Definitely not.

   At that moment Dean runs by. He winks at Castiel and gives him a little wave before running back off again. Castiel thinks back to every time Dean did something like this. Every time the team won a game they went to get pie if they could, he almost always waved when Castiel was watching the games, he let him win in video games sometimes, he fixed his bike for him, drove for two hours just to get doughnuts from Castiel’s favorite place on his birthday, let him cry his heart out when Castiel’s parents got into yet another fight which had his mother storming out, giving him these looks like he’s Dean’s whole world. Okay, he might be over the moon with him. And Castiel might be over the moon for him too. He doesn’t know what to do with this information.

   Two minutes till halftime Charlie sits back down. Her hair is now in a ponytail and she gives him a look as she drinks from her water bottle

   “Why do you look like you just discovered the secret to the universe but then wished immediately for ignorance?”

   “How do you even come up with this stuff?”  Charlie shrugs and takes another drink. “Besides the point, you’re right oh my god.”

   “I’m always right. But what am I right about now?”

   “Dean likes me.” Charlie gives him a deadpan look.

   “Congratulations! You’re officially the last to know. You just now figuring this out?”

   “I am having a crisis here Charlie!”

   “So, ask him out at half time.”

   “Absolutely not!”

   “Okay, okay,” Charlie holds her hands up in a placating gesture. “You’re right, he’ll probably be in such a dazed state he’ll throw the second half.”

   “Charlie!” The stands erupt into cheers and they both look back to the game. Adam just scored a goal. Charlie claps and lets out a whoop that has Castiel cringing.

   “Cas, listen. Gather every last drop of courage you have in you and ask Dean out on a date. For the love of god, one of you do it soon or I’m going to just lock you both in a closet, you hear me?” Castiel nods, fully believing she will. The horn goes off and they both jump and turn back to the game once again. The teams run off the field over to their benches.

   Dean comes over minutes later, a towel around his shoulders and water bottle in hand.

   “Hey Cas.”

   “Hello Dean.” Charlie looks between them, gives Castiel a pointed look and walks off. Dean takes her place, leaning his shoulder against Castiel’s.

   Dean takes a sip from his water bottle. “You okay?”

   “Why wouldn’t I be?”

   “Its just when I looked over a couple minutes ago you looked like you were about to throw up. Like you realized you completely forgot you had a test tomorrow and didn’t study at all.” Dean chuckles.

   “You should really be watching the game not me.” He turns and hopes he’s giving Dean his best stern look.

   “Well I apologize that I just can’t keep my eyes off of you.” Castiel sucks in a breath.

   “Dean, I was wondering if-”

   “Dean! Coach needs us!” One of the players, James, comes running up and Dean gives Castiel an apologetic look. Castiel doesn’t know whether to be relived or annoyed.

   “Sorry Cas, later alright? I gotta jet!”

   “No one says that anymore!” He calls out to Dean’s retreating back. He looks over to where Charlie is, easily spotting her with her vibrant red hair. She looks like she’s about to murder someone.

-

   There’s a minute left on the clock and they’re tied. Both him and Charlie, and like everyone else, they’re on the edge of their seats. Charlie is actually biting her nails, glancing from the clock to the players. Saying the time every now and then.

   Their team has the ball. It gets passed from player to player. Five seconds are left on the clock and when Cas looks back, the ball is getting kicked and then Dean doing a fucking jump kick or something like that and it- it goes in the goal! The stands erupt into cheers and the horn goes off. Charlie and Castiel are out of their seats, screaming and clapping with everyone else.

   The team swarms Dean, they’re jumping around, hugging him, and shouting. He’s lifted up and he fist pumps the air while grinning. Charlie is already snapping shots and Castiel and Dean make eye contact. Dean’s grinning and so is Castiel. He feels so happy and proud that his legs are moving before he can process it. Castiel sees his mouth move but doesn’t here him but he’s being put down moments later. Castiel doesn’t stop, breaking into a jog and Dean pushes past his teammates.

   Castiel all but tackles him, jumping up and wrapping himself around Dean and he easily catches him.

   “You fucking won!” Castiel shouts.

   “We won!” Dean shouts back. He adjusts his grip so both hands are holding Castiel’s thighs. Castiel leans back so he can look at Dean’s face. He’s sweaty and flushes, dirt on the side of his face and he fucking reeks- but Castiel doesn’t care. Dean’s face is split into a grin, eyes crinkling and practically sparkling. He doesn’t hesitate and smashes his mouth against Dean’s. Dean’s still for a moment before eagerly responding. Castiel is the first to break away.

   A wide smile is on his face as he takes in Dean surprised and breathless face. “Go out with me. Please?” Dean huffs out a laugh and kisses him again.

   “Hell yes.” He says against Castiel’s lips.

[battlestar-royco]

updated faq

Round 2! I tried to shorten the answers so as not to be repetitive, and I also added new FAQs for your convenience. My past self who wrote my first FAQ annoys me, and this one is more thorough anyway, so here you go. I still can’t believe you all actually interact with me enough that I have to make one of these.

Questions up here, answers under the cut.

anti sjm basics

1. why are you an anti?

2. why are you specifically anti SJM?

3. do you like anything about SJM’s books?

4. terminology and practices

5. why do you hold SJM to a higher standard than other authors?/why do you focus on criticizing this one woman more harshly than you do men?

6. did you see what xyz stan did?

7. are you an anti for non-SJM stuff?

best of (in my humble opinion)

diversity and sensitivity

8. I have a question about writing and/or how to portray xyz identity...

9. can you please tag...?

10. is it okay if I like [x author]/[y series] even if I know they’re problematic?

11. what are your suggestions for aspiring authors who want to write diversely?

personal

12. is it okay if I message you?

13. why don’t you post about books/shows/movies you actually like?

14. favorites?

15. book suggestions?

16. are you a writer/what are you writing/do you plan on publishing?

17. is it okay if I follow you on other social media?

18. fandom research

19. when did you start your blog?

20. how did you decide your url?

anti SJM basics

1. why are you an anti?

I love thinking critically about the media I consume. Though I wouldn’t say I’m particularly “anti” any text or author, some people classify any criticism as “anti.” To respect people in the main tags, I post in anti tags so they don’t have to see critical posts. Otherwise, I love talking about positive, neutral, and negative aspects of books.

2. why are you specifically anti SJM?

The Anti SJM Manifesto

What made you turn into an anti? x x

Rowan/Rowaelin: x x x

The fandom: x x x x x x

3. do you like anything about SJM’s books?

Yes. I like a lot of SJM’s ideas, but I don’t like how they’re executed at all. I highly enjoyed TAB, TOG-HOF, and the witch storyline of QOS. My favorite TOG characters are Manon, Chaol, Nehemia, and Sorscha. Honorable mention for Lysandra, Kaltain, and Asterin. My favorite ACOTAR characters are Nesta, Lucien, and Tarquin. Additional links: x x x x

If you want my positive thoughts on certain SJM characters, look up: “anti sjm: [character name]” and you’ll find them.

4. terminology and practices:

Anti SJM Glossary. Seeing as many of us have had bad experiences with stans and in one case, authors, we censor names so our posts stay in our own tags.

What is soap dick? From August 2018 x x.

Manongate? when KOA came out, Charlie Bowater’s promotional art (x) depicted Manon as Asian. Here’s more on why that’s a problematic and lazy decision on SJM and Bloomsbury’s part: x x.

5. why do you hold SJM to a higher standard than other authors?/why do you focus on criticizing this one woman more harshly than you do men?

SJM alone out of all the biggest YA authors has yet to make craft improvements or display a social awareness similar to what I’ve seen from her colleagues. I give all authors an equal chance, but SJM’s writing and behavior has significantly decreased in quality compared to other fantasy authors despite her books being lauded as complex and feminist works. However, I’m not perfect, so do feel welcome to send me an ask if you think I’m being unfair.

The anti SJM community is focused on women because we all mainly read women. Critiquing women doesn’t mean we are unaware, dismissive of, or silent about the issues in men’s work. The “anti” movements for the likes of GRRM do exist, but under a different name than “anti”–there are thousands of critical meta blogs, book/TV critics and reviewers, Youtubers, etc out there who discuss his flaws in depth. I also have lengthy anti GRRM, anti GOT, and anti ASOIAF tags. Finally, I personally find critiquing and discussing women’s work a lot more interesting, productive, and empowering than doing the same for men, especially because my blog’s focus is on the YA author/transformative fan community at large.

About Leigh Bardugo: x x x x x x x

About GRRM (and GOT): x x x x x x x

About Tolkien: I've only read The Hobbit and a third of Fellowship of the Ring, and I’ve only watched FotR, so I don’t say much about him at all.

6. did you see what xyz stan did?

Probably not, especially if what they did was off Tumblr. I don’t look at stan accounts unless someone informs me that my posts or I have come up in conversation on their blog. Any specific stan urls in asks will be redacted both for their privacy and my own well-being. Stans have doxxed, harassed, and discriminated against antis, including myself, so I’d rather save us all the trouble.

7. are you an anti for non-SJM stuff?

I most often talk about SJM’s books, but I’ve also been very critical of GOT/ASOIAF. Following GRRM, several other YA authors have appeared in positive, neutral, and critical lights. On the more critical side we have Cassandra Clare and JK Rowling, and a very little bit about Victoria Aveyard, John Green, Maggie Stiefvater, Stephenie Meyer, and Veronica Roth. Otherwise, I’ve talked about Susan Dennard, Rick Riordan, Leigh Bardugo, and Marie Rutkoski. Check out my YA critical tag for more. I’m also down to discuss franchises like Star Wars, Fantastic Beasts, MCU, etc, as well as TV shows. Basically anything big in genre fiction media, there’s a good chance I’ve read/watched it and I have opinions!

best of

anti SJM

Are the Illyrians MOC?

Moral Ambiguity Series

Anti Nessian

Lucien or Rhysand?

Chaol or Rowan?

misc.

why are period dramas like... that

White Feminism

a beginner’s guide to fandom racism

diversity and sensitivity

8. I have a question about writing and/or how to portray xyz identity...

First and foremost, check my “writing advice” and “writing advice: poc” tags to see if the question has already been answered.

I am black cis girl with a dual degree in women’s/gender studies and creative writing. I will best be able to answer questions regarding black characters, women, racial oppression and identity as a whole, and most questions about queer characters. There’s a chance I can provide a basic answer to questions about demographics outside of these, but I’ll most likely advise you to ask another blogger or seek out sensitivity readers.

9. can you please tag...?

Yes. Just send an ask and I’ll tag anything. I’ve turned off all Tumblr notifications for this account so I probably won’t see tag requests in comments unless you comment within a day or so of the post.

10. is it okay if I like [x author]/[y series] even if I know they’re problematic?

Absolutely. I’m not the liking-things police and I can’t control whether you like something or not. There’s no such thing as an unproblematic author or unproblematic series, so you just have to like what you like at your own discretion and with a critical eye. As long as you’re aware of the issues and not denying or ignoring them, maybe even seeking out other people whose opinions add to the conversation, you’re good. It’s exhausting to be 100% critical but harmful to be 100% uncritical, so you have to seek out critics you like and figure out how to maintain a dialogue with the text and/or the author. The balance is different for everyone but once you find it, it gets easier to keep up!

11. what are your suggestions for aspiring authors who want to write diversely?

Concepts to be aware of and tropes to avoid: male gaze, the Bechdel test, the Mako Mori test, the sexy lamp test, fridging, Orientalism, xenoface (called “the Gamora Phenomenon” on my blog), black best friend, Spicy Latina, Dragon Lady, bury your gays, disability narratives, queerbaiting.

What not to do when creating a culture.

My advice about writing POC.

Check out these blogs if you like: x x x.

Follow as diversely as possible. Follow multiple blogs, especially writing- or fandom-themed blogs, run by POC (especially women and LGBTQ+), bloggers from religiously marginalized groups, bloggers with disabilities, older bloggers, younger bloggers, international bloggers, plus size bloggers, etc. Everyone has different perspectives and opinions, so it’s best to read from multiple sources.

Magnify marginalized voices in conversations about diversity, and LISTEN to what they are telling you.

Read diversely! Read genre fiction written by marginalized people. Maybe even read some gender, queer, race, or disability theory if you like. I’m personally a fan of Audre Lorde, Anne McClintock, and Sara Ahmed, but I like a lot more.

Seek out multiple sensitivity readers for the specific identity you are trying to represent (ie if you are trying to write a Muslim woman, ask a Muslim woman to sensitivity read for you. Experiences are not interchangeable so don’t treat them as such).

Don’t let the research stop here. This is just the beginning. There are plenty of awesome and accessible resources out there if you want to know more. I started learning about this stuff on sites like Tumblr, Goodreads, and Youtube. The Goodreads review sections, especially for YA books, are so entertaining and full of commentators coming at texts with feminist, queer, and POC lenses if you look in the right spots. There are also podcasts and Youtube videos about feminism, history of queerbaiting, and such. Happy reading/listening/writing!

personal

12. is it okay if I message you?

If we’ve been mutuals and/or we’ve interacted for a while (at least a few weeks or so), absolutely. When it comes to questions about writing or diversity advice in WIPs, I prefer asks (off or on anon is fine; if you’d like to be off anon but answered privately, you can indicate that in the ask). That way, other people with similar questions can join the discussion and I’m less likely to repeat myself. That said, I’m not opposed to messages; I just get shy around people I don’t know :). Regardless of ask or message, please try to ask the full question as clearly as possible so I can answer it to my best ability. Generally, you can expect an answer to your message or ask within a few days to a week of sending.

If you’re looking for a fight and/or if you start using condescending, rude, or discriminatory language, you will be ignored.

13. why don’t you post about books/shows/movies you actually like?

I do! :)

14. favorites?

books: Harry Potter; The Hunger Games; Six of Crows; Percy Jackson; The Winner’s Trilogy; Angelfall; The Secret History; Othello; Jane Eyre; The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe/The Magician’s Nephew; A Storm of Swords.

movies: Alien, Blade Runner 2049, Harry Potter, Wonder Woman, Black Panther, Annihilation, Mad Max: Fury Road, The Terminator 2, The Breakfast Club, The Lion King, Moonlight dir. Barry Jenkins, Sleeping Beauty, Mulan, Tangled.

tv series: Sense8, Battlestar Galactica (2004-2008), Black Mirror, The X Files, The 100, Westworld (season 1 only), Watchmen, Homeland (seasons 1-4 only), Orphan Black, Breaking Bad, The Office, Brooklyn Nine-Nine, New Girl, Fleabag.

15. book suggestions?

Book recs!

Maxine, did you read/watch...?

16. are you a writer/what are you writing/do you plan on publishing?

I hope to publish, yes! I write mostly YA fantasy, but I also love sci fi, crime drama, and certain elements of horror so I have works in or influenced by all of those genres. I want to get my foot in the YA fantasy door first and foremost :). Check out “polysorscha writes things” if you want to know more specifics.

17. is it okay if I follow you on other social media?

As of now I keep my blog disconnected from my personal life, so I don’t share my other socials but feel free to follow me over on my main blog @ripley-stark if you like! It’s just pretty gifs and photos of my favorite movies and shows, social justice, meta reblogs here and there, and rambling in the tags. Don’t feel like you have to follow if you don’t want to; I say a lot more on here.

That being said, I have given my Goodreads to a handful of people who ask, so if you want to track what I’m reading, private message me and I’ll send you the link. In the case that I share the link with you, please respect my privacy and do not repost or share the link anywhere else unless you see me share it on my blog publicly.

18. fandom research:

In March to May 2019, I conducted a survey on my blog in an attempt to gather information about fandom through a social justice–specifically, intersectional feminist–lens. Here are the results and my analysis of the survey x. The purpose for this data collection was to write my final undergraduate research paper in one of my two majors, women’s and gender studies (the other is creative writing!), which focused on diversity and inclusion in genre fiction media and fandom. The final paper is about 11k words. I haven’t publicly published it, but message me if you’re interested in reading it! I also plan on doing more similar surveys to gather information about what audiences want to see in future media, so if anyone is interested, please send messages, asks, comments etc about what YOU want to see and/or ideas about how we can spread the info to creators. This is much bigger than just me and I can’t do it without your help. I love hearing from diverse voices and amplifying them as much as I can. Everyone’s perspective is meaningful!

19. when did you start your blog?

No earlier than the end of April or beginning of May 2018.

20. how did you decide your url?

I wish the Celaena/Dorian/Chaol love triangle resolved in a polyamorous relationship, and that Nehemia and Sorscha were thriving. Seeing as I am black, Sorscha is one of two characters in T0G who represents me. Thus, polyamorous + Sorscha. :)

[zaritarazi]

What makes Tagumo Attacks one of your favorites?

okay woof this turned into a mini-essay that’s on me you can choose to read it under the cut

it’s one of the most tightly written episodes legends has ever had, for starters. it juggles 3 plots, all three of which are at least tinged with very real sadness, really well. Even though the plots do vary- we’ve got tagumo in the a plot, nora and ray in the b plot, and nate and ava vs family gather in the c plot, they maintain common themes that drive home the emotion of the episode. Overall, we see issues of humanity, darkness, and compassion- What can a person come back from? Where can a person go after trauma? It comes to us in tiers- Clearly, Ishirō Honda has seen the greatest trauma, and it’s important that the show makes that distinction, because his actually happened in real life. Putting priority on that shows the emphasis the episode has to emotional honesty- Had Legends chosen to do what a LOT of American narratives do, which is talk around the Atomic Bombs or use at least some justification for it, the episode would’ve been unwatchable and completely disingenuine. 

So with that in mind, we have our three cases of humanity: We have Honda-san, who has, as he did in real life, been making larger than life monsters to represent the horror of the atomic bomb. On the fictional end, we have Nora, who has no faith in herself and feels all of her power can only come from a negative place. And then we have the fugitives at the time bureau, the actual “monsters,” who don’t actually get to speak for themselves- Mona essentially has to come in and serve as the big reminder to have compassion for the little guys. And her compassion at the bottom kicks all the way back up to the top- Ray asks Nora why she assumes her magic has to be dark, and offers her the ability to see herself as something other than a monster, and in the A plot, Sara points out that there is nothing wrong in using art to work through trauma, and that this event (tagumo being real) is only happening because the trauma occurred in the first place.

Additionally, we see Charlie start to take her place in the team- As a magical creature herself, it is vital for her to see the good in humanity through this lens, and it is vital that humanity be tested by Charlie’s standards- This is actually the turning point episode for her trusting the Legends, and for everyone in-show to take a different look at their preconceived notions of magic. Even though the midseason finale was a very silly kind of mash-up of tropes, it is worth noting that the last timeline, the most “correct” one before they fix things, does correctly point out that people can be very cruel when they choose to fear something instead of understanding it. THIS is the episode that picks understanding, and WITHOUT it, we would’ve missed something really and deeply important to the narrative of this season.

I’ve found that at its best, Legends lets the characters lead the narrative, and drive the vehicle in whichever way their predetermined experiences tell them to. Yes, there’s usually a monster of the week, but from there, the episode is always better if the reactions of the characters feel genuine and in line with what has been established in other episodes. At its worst, Legends has fallen prey to bigger picture plots that ignore characterization in order to force plot points of convenience-  In order for A to happen, Character must do X. So Tagumo strides because it shows us the very best we can be, especially after going through the very worst. 

Like i know legends is mostly a clown car fire but like... sometimes i can acknowledge that i know writers do stuff on purpose. but don’t get used to it or anything

[katherinewilliams221b]

Together

Pairing: Charlie Weasley x mc

Part 2 of The World Cup. (Necessary to know original characters that appear here.) A small conversation in the dark.

After the Death Eaters attacked the camp, and taking care of Charlie’s injury, Kate felt lost.

Somehow, she mustered up the courage to stand up and leave Charlie at the tent. Clutching her wand tightly, she advanced through the rubble toward the medical tent. Hopefully she would find her backpack. Everything around her was destroyed. As she walked she realized that she was in the same pitiful state as her surroundings, covered in ash and dirt.

 The place that was once used to store medical material was burnt. Kate saw Florin rummaging through the rubble. "You’re fine?". Florin, startled, took a posture of attack and pointed his wand at Kate. "It’s me!" she shouted raising her arms. Florin resumed his work and Kate lowered her head to inspect the floor. "We won’t find anything useful here." Florin responded with a grunt. Kate touched her necklace and walked to the wreckage of the store. She saw her backpack under a burnt cloth and crouched down to pick it up. Her uniform was scorched but usable and her notebooks had been reduced to ashes. She sighed resigned. At least her potion chest was intact.

 Suddenly, Kate and Florin stood up to hear a voice from afar. "There’s someone there?" "Alina?"

"Kate!" Two figures advanced toward them. Vasile was with her. "Quick! There are five people in the forest, injured, one of them is a muggle. Nougal sent us to see if there was anyone left."

"We don’t know where Rahela is…"

"She’s with us. Come on."

Nobody died that night. After curing the group and erasing the memory of the muggle, Kate practically flew back to the Weasleys' tent. " Is everybody all right?" A startled Charlie received her

"Yes. You were the only one left. The rest already went to sleep.”

He caught her in a hug. "Where were you?" Kate hugged him back with the same intensity. "I went to get my things and found my team. We went into the woods, there were wounded people." He closed his eyes and hugged her harder.

 "Let me see the wound, I didn’t even clean it…"

"It’s okay, no scar, you’re just that good." He put his hand on the back of her neck and began to massage it lightly. "I have to change… I’ll put on my uniform dress, I forgot my pyjamas…" she released a forced laughter. Charlie shook his head and held her hand, dragging her to his bunk. Without saying anything, he checked that the boys were asleep and began unbuttoning her blouse.

"Charlie…" Kate warned, looking around, nervous. He just shook his head again and continued his task. Delicate fingers caressed the exposed skin. Kate raised one hand and touched Charlie’s frown with one finger, causing him to look up. His expression relaxed slightly. He slid her shirt over her shoulders, the bra now exposed.

Charlie looked back again and changed his position, completely covering her body. Years of practice helped him get rid of the bra and she quickly covered herself with her arms. He reached to her side and helped her put on his pyjama shirt. One side of his mouth curved up in half a smile as she was swallowed by the piece of clothing.

He sat on the bed and slowly unbuttoned her pants. Kate knew that it relaxed him to take care of her and, even if she was perfectly capable of changing her clothes, she always let him do it if he wanted. With her feet she finished taking off her pants and grabbed both sides of Charlie’s face to give him a long kiss. "Thank you." she whispered.

Once settled under the blankets, Charlie’s arm pillowed her head and he hugged her body against his chest. She started playing with the soft hairs there.

“Charlie” she muttered “the candle…” she said amused. Charlie grunted and without letting her go, he turned his head and blew on the flame on his bedside table, leaving the place almost in complete darkness. It was vaguely illuminated by the light from outside.

Something soft touched Charlie’s face and he reached out to put the intrepid strand of hair behind her ear, caressing the side of her face.

“What do you want to do tomorrow?” she asked.

“Go home”

“But…Romania?” Charlie sighed. “No, actually I was thinking about staying at the Burrow for a day or two. To be with mom.” Kate nodded. “You can go back, though. Nougal will want you at the hospital as soon as possible and you need rest.”

Kate frowned and started drawing invisible figures on his back with her fingers. “I want to be with you…” Charlie squeezed her lightly and placed his lips on her forehead, staying there.

“Besides, I’d like to talk with Tonks about…today.”

“Do you think she’ll be able to tell you anything? The aurors must know something already.”

“I don’t know.”

They abruptly stopped talking at the sound of one of the beds squeaking. Percy had rolled over.

Kate slid her hand down Charlie’s back and then up, caressing his bare shoulder and feeling his muscles before going down again finally resting on his hip. His eyes, now used to the darkness, could see the silhouette of her lips and without containing himself he leaned in to kiss them. She inhaled sharply.

“Do you think He is back?” she asked after pulling back. “I don’t know. But we can’t scratch the idea yet.”

They fell silent again, this time for a longer while. Kate concentrated on her breathing and started to fall asleep when she heard Charlie whisper again.

“You casted lumos with your mouth earlier…” his tone amused and yet impressed. “Hmm?”

“Yes, before, when you where healing my wound after the explosion. I saw you lightening the wand and then you put it in your mouth and it was still shining.”

“Oh…I’m not really sure how I managed to do that. I was concentrated in you and…I don’t think I could do that again if I wanted…”

“Why not? That’s advanced magic and you did that without thinking. You are the smartest witch I know, you can do anything you want.”

Kate smiled but shook her head, placing a kiss on his chest. “Don’t know many witches, huh?

“I mean it. And before you say something about how Nougal won’t promote you to mediwizard let me tell you, Lady, that you are wrong. He is going to give you that job sooner or later because you deserve it.”

“Since when can you read me so well? You can’t even see me right now.”

“It’s a sixth sense. A dragon sense. Makes me extra perceptive around you. Like…like a demiguise-dragon.” Kate couldn’t help but giggle. “Don’t laugh, you should take notes you know? You have to train yourself in the art of it.” Her face fell when she heard the word ‘notes’. She took a deep breath and he looked down, despite not being able to see her. “What?” he asked softly. Kate buried herself more under the covers and against Charlie, who embraced her protectively. “My investigation…I will have to start all over again. It’s completely burnt.” She closed her eyes and let out a resigned huff.

“Why did you bring it here?” When she didn’t answer, Charlie frowned. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to reproach you for it. I was just curious.”

“Listen, I’m…” she sighed “I’m angry at myself, Charlie, not you. I…I shouldn’t have brought the journals, I wanted to talk with other mediwizards, you know…exchange opinions, ideas. Now I’ll have to take samples again, repeat the tests, rewrite everything and…”

“Katie.” He said more sternly than he intended. “You are not going to write you investigation tonight. Or are you?”

“No…” he kissed her hair again. “Then we will worry about it tomorrow.” She knew he was right, as usual, but that didn’t fix things. She buried her head in the crook of his neck and hugged him. “I love you” she murmured, making Charlie smile. “And I love you, snitch.”

Soon, Charlie’s soft snores were the only thing that could be heard inside the tent. The next day would be filled with worries and hard decisions but they would overcome it. Together.

[cortexifansquint]

                        matching pairings & annotations under the cut!

                                             Youtube (x) Spotify ( x)

Buffy / Cordelia / Willow

*  Cloud 69 // Lowell

I'm like dynamite / need a cheerleader / let me throw you down / while I look at her / I'm like "Oh my god / I think I need a girlfriend"

*  Crazy // Au Revoir Simone

you knew me, wanna love to lose and to lose again / seems we're either giving up or giving in / but, uh, you girls, you drive me crazy

Willow / Tara

* There’s a Girl // The Ditty Bops

there's a girl that you might know / she's a friend at least I tell you so / but it might surprise you to find / there's something going on behind the door

* Horizon // Luna Blake 

you tower over me / you are sky and I am sea 

* Truthfully // Lisa Loeb

truthfully, I really can't explain / I'm floating, I'm smiling again 

* Room // Palehound 

she comes over / growing like a clover / in my room / in my room

* Sugar in a Pie //  Erin McKeown

love me sweet like a sugar in a pie / kiss me deep with a dreamy little sigh

Faith / Buffy

* Damn, I Wish I Was Your Lover // Sophie B. Hawkins 

that old dog has chained you up, alright / give you everything you need to live inside a twisted cage / sleep beside an empty rage / I had a dream I was your hero

* Hologram // Katie Herzig

I'm gonna let you down / gonna toss you around / gonna make you want everything you haven't found / I'm gonna hold your hand / then ask you to stand / ten feet away

* Buy her Candy

she's a famous / she's the best / I cannot lay / my heart to rest / she is selfish / she is kind / no one can say / she is mine

* Nights with you // MO

I'll take you out tonight / leave it all at home / don't care about your boyfriend waking up alone

* Portions for Foxes// Rilo Kiley

'cause you're just damage control, for a walking corpse like me, like you (S6 Fuffy edition)

* Last 2nd Chance // Vaughan Penn 

this is the last second chance I’ll ever need / this is the last time you’ll hear sorry from me

Buffy / Cordelia-

* More like you // Hazel English

I could waste all of my time / thinking up ways to catch your eye / and I tried but it just didn’t feel right / and besides I'm just trying to get by

* She // Dodie 

and I'll be okay admiring from afar / cause even when she's next to me / we could not be more far apart  (late S1 - mid S2 coffy, either pov)

* Can’t / Naaz 

in my mind / I can be what we choose / but in life / we can't stand in those shoes

* Midway // Bad Bad Hats 

the shadows you were casting nearly swallowed the night /  but god, I could have kissed you (I imagine this as the night Cordelia drops Buffy home in Helpless or sometime in mid-late S3)

* Touch //  Shura 

I wanna touch you but I'm too late / I wanna touch you but there's history / I can't believe that it's been three years / now when I see you, it's so bittersweet  (if either had showed up in L.A or Sunnydale after Buffy was resurrected)

Tara / Buffy

* If I Could // Sophie Zelmani 

If I could help you with /  this part of life you've got to live /  you could load your weight on me

* Our Eyes // Lucy Rose 

I'm alive / I feel it now / I never knew I'll find it on you / out of line we got ourselves / in a look, wait we are not fine / wait, you are not mine 

* Wire // Alessi Ark 

I'm tired of walking this wire / it keeps me awake for heaven sake / I was made for this girl / I feel lonely / my friends don't seem to know me / like i thought they did

Willow / Cordelia

* Upper West Side // King Princess

I can't stop judging every thing you do / but I can't get enough of you

* Then If I’m Weird I Want to Share // Tender Forever

people told me / that you're too sexy / you're too sexy for me / but actually I just don't care / I think it's bullshit everywhere

Buffy / Willow

* Loners // Maddie Ross

one night alone in the bookstacks / summer to make all the kids sad / next fall we're back in the corner / nice girls love kissing the loners

* Ray of Sunshine // Go Sailor 

yellow hair, fiery stare / nothing's right, 'cause she's not here tonight 

* Explosion // Zolita 

it's a mindless love affair / one hot mess of bleach blonde hair / I could kiss her but your lips taste better / you could kiss him but my words are sweeter

* Sweet Moon // Sundarta 

when the world is big and I’m alone / I call you and I am home

Faith / Tara

* Will You Be My Girlfriend // Alanis Morissette 

I guess I fall and you stay intact is that right? I guess you hear me and won't attack me, is that right? guess I reach out and you reach back, is that right?

* Not gonna Get Us // T.at.u 

soon there will be laughter and voices / beyond the clouds over the mountains / we'll run away on roads that are empty / lights from the airfield shining upon you (teenage runaway mehane)

* Love you Anyway // Jil Nisson & Marlene

I know what you've been getting / coz I sure got it too / don't, don't you forget it / the damage they do

* Walk The Line // Halsey

I keep a close watch on this heart of mine / I keep my eyes wide open all the time / I keep the ends out for the tie that binds / because you're mine, I walk the line

Willow / Amy

* Wherever We Are // Human Life

after the day we're chasing the sun / farther away the faster we run / feet on the ground our head in the stars / finding the sound wherever we are

* When We’re High // LP 

let’s swallow the moon and the stars / let’s wallow just right where we are

Amy / Faith

* Whiskey & Black Leather // Sapphic Lasers

some they want a girl next door / but that ain't what I'm looking for / I first saw your lips across the room / red like a blood moon

* Her Lover // Ally & Stevie 

she is like a cat in the dark / and then she is the darkness

* High Enough // K Flay 

don’t try to give me cold water / I don’t wanna sober up / all I see are tomorrows / oh, the stars were made for us

Cordelia / Anya

*  Only a Girl // Gia

soft touch, warm skin / nothing like my ex-man / slowly falling, I don't want my next man

* I Don’t Do Boys // Elektra 

I don't do boys, I just do girls / just do girls with style and class / I don't do boys, I just do girls / just do girls with kissable ass

Fuffy / Radison

* One More // Elliphant 

stay with me tonight / we can count the street lights / stay with me alright let's bring it all back to life (bad girls & smashed shennanigans)

Dark Willow / Anyanka + Darla / Drusilla + Lilah / Cordelia (Jasmine possessed version)

* Glory & Gore // Lorde

delicate in every way but one, / God knows we like archaic kinds of fun / chance is the only game I play with / baby, we let our battles choose us 

“ Your Lips are Red // St. Vincent

this city's red / this city's red from riding us into the ground / this city's black / this city's black from all the ashes in downtown

Willow / Anya

* Wishful Thinking // The Ditty Bops 

when the cold and lonely hours put your heart to the test / maybe I'll be the one that you like best (S7 Rosekins)

* The Happy Song // Kate Miccuci 

'cause isn't it nice to have the friends that you do? / and isn't it nice that the sky is so blue? / and isn't it nice to say "I love you"? (the cheery & matter -of-factly style of this song reminds me of anya)

Faith / Willow

* So-Called Str8 Grrrl // Gina Young

I think you want me / you know you want me / so why do you talk shit about me

* She’s so Lovely // The Butchies 

she's a rocker dressed like a killer / she's got lips like wine not sugar 

* Sum of your parts // Mary Lambert

I didn't know I was a phoenix till I learned how to speak / even with ashes in my mouth I was still born to breath / I wonder are you like me

* All I Want is To Be Your Girl // Holly Miranda

Well there's ghosts in the night and ghosts in my mind / and if we quit changing we'll be left behind / but I won't take another chance of screwing it up / so I stay where I am / but all I want is to be your girl

Buffy / Satsu

* Cliff’s Edge // Hayley Kiyoko

you turn me on / you lead me on / you got me on / a cliff's edge (satsu’s pov)

* One Night // Charlie XCX 

you are somethin’ special / twenty carats, solid gold / what we had was precious / but I had to let you go

Cordelia / Lilah

* Short Skirt, Long Jacket // Larkin Poe

I want a girl with a mind like a diamond / I want a girl who knows what's best I want a girl with shoes that cut / and eyes that burn like cigarettes

Fuffy + Willow / Kennedy

* We Might be Dead by Tomorrow // Soko

give me all your love / ‘cause for all we know / we might be dead by tomorrow

Kendra / Buffy

* Eleventeen // Kimya Dawson

you may feel strange, well, you are an angel / stuck in tight pants stuck at a high school dance / stuck doing people things not knowing you have wings

* Supergirl // Anna Naklab

you can see in her eyes / that no one is her chain / she's my girl / my supergirl

Cordelia / Faith

* Can I Say Baby // GIRLI 

can I say baby? / I don't wanna be soppy / but I like your style / think you're kinda cool / I'm sort of into you

* Rebel Girl // Bikini Kill 

rebel girl rebel girl / I think I want to take you home / I want to try on your clothes

* Flowers and Rope // Princess Nokia

voices in my head, monsters under my bed / I'm alone again, I lost all my friends / wanna play pretend? hope this never ends

Fred / Faith

* Whiskey // Nicole Reynolds

you accept that i talk too much / i accept that you talk too little / but it's fine / i like a good riddle

In the Margins // Ani Difranco

you are a rare bird / the kind i wouldn't even mind / writing in the margins of my books

Willow / Kennedy

* Pretty Girl // Hayley Kiyoko 

I can tell you’re real smart / world class piece of art / I can see you in the dark / all we have to do is start

* Let it Go // Allie Moss 

darlin' you see / the fear in me / and how I'd finally be / if I were willing to let it go

Buffy / Anne

* Annonymous Club //  Courtney Barnett 

let's start an anonymous club / I'll make us name badges with question marks

* Hideaway // IVY 

under stars and satellites / a thousand miles / from where we've been

Willow/Fred + Buffy/Tara

* I Was Made for Sunny Days // The Weepies

I was made for sunny days / and I was made for you

Faith / Kennedy

* Crimson and Clover //  Joan Jett & the Blackhearts 

ah, now I don't hardly know her / but I think I can love her

“ Honey // Kehlani

I like my girls just like I like my honey; sweet / a little selfish

Cordelia / Fred

* Genius // The Murmurs

she's kinda weird / she's kinda freaky / but I don't know / I think she's a genius

* There she goes // Sixpence None the Richer 

there she goes / there she goes again / racing through my brain / and I just can't contain / this feeling that remains

[i-need-a-second-library]

Reading List 2019

So I thought to celebrate the fact that I actually read 100 books this year, I could list them all, give them a short raiting and quickly summarise my thoughts (as far as I remember them, my memory is terrible). So strap in, this is gonna be a looong list.

(The formating is gonna be: Title, Author, Language I read it in (D = German; E = English), rating, short thoughts)

1. The Toymakers, Robert Dinsdale, D, 3/5, Wants to be The Nightcircus but fails. Still sweet and thoughtful.

2. Deadly Sting (Elemental Assassin 8), Jennifer Estep, D, 4/5, Don’t remember specifics just that I was impressed the series was still this good.

3. The Labyrinth of Magic Volume 1, Shinobu Ohtaka, D, 1/5, Note to self: I don’t like Mangas (The Anime is fantastic though).

4. The Labyritnh of Magic Volume 2, Shinobu Ohtaka, D, 1/5, See 3.

5. The Ocean at the End of the Lane, Neil Gaiman, D, 3/5, Not my style but I can see what others like about it.

6. Norse Mythology, Neil Gaiman, D, 4/5, Very informative and entertaining.

7. The Master Magician (The Paper Magician 3), Charlie N. Holmberg, D,3/5, Adequate ending, I absolutely love the magic system.

8. The Plastic Magician (The Paper Magician 3.5), Charlie N. Holmberg, D, 4/5, Great spinoff, better story than the original with exactly enough cameos.

9. Heart of Venom (Elemental Assassin 9), Jennifer Estep, D, 3/5, see 2.

10. Inkdeath (Inkworld 3), Cornelia Funke, D, 5/5, Always a favourite, read it because I was feeling down cheered me right up.

11. The Blood of Olympus (Heroes of Olympus 5), Rick Riordan, E, 4/5, Why did I wait so long to read this?

12. Vulkanjäger, Katja Brandis, D, 3/5, Good adventurebook for younger readers.

13. Double Crossed: A Spies andd Thieves Story (Heist Society 2.5), Ally Carter, E, 3/5, Should really have read Gallagher Girls first.

14.  Wizards: The Myths, Legends, and Lore, Aubrey Sherman, E, 4/5, Very interesting, smiled everytime Harry Potter or BBC’s Merlin was mentioned.

15.  Vampires: The Myths, Legends, and Lore, Aubrey Sherman, E, 3/5, Not really a fan of Vampires but if you are you have to read this!

16. Nice Dragons Finish Last (Heartstrikers 1), Rachel Aaron, E, 3/5, Amazing worldbuilding!

17. The Tomb, H.P.Lovecraft, D, 2/5, I don´t even remember it.

18.  All the Ever Afters: The Untold Story of Cinderella's Stepmother, Danielle Teller, E, 3/5, Great new perspective, unfortunately not enough magic.

19. Stars Above (Lunar CHronicles Short Stories), Marissa Meyer, E, 3/5, I would read anything in this universe no matter if it´s good or not.

20.  To Kill a Kingdom, Alexandra Christo, E, 4/5, Really good, always love a dark fairytale retelling.

21. Her Royal Spyness (Royal Spyness 1), Rhys Bowen, E, 3/5, Expected more, it´s a bit slow.

22.  Mein Reckless Märchenbuch (Mirrorworld Readalong), Cornelia Funke, D, 5/5, It`s Cornelia Funke of course it´s brilliant. Also, everyone needs a collections of fairytales at home, just for refference. I have gotten into many a discussion about the specifics of a classic story that we needed to look up.

23. Air Awakens (Air Awakens 1), Elise Kova, E, 5/5, Fantastic read, couldn´t put it down.

24. Renegades (Renegades 1), Marissa Meyer, D, 4/5, Marissa Meyer writing about Superheroes? More please!

25. Fire Falling (Air Awakens 2), Elise Kova, E, 4/5, see 23.

26.Tales from the Front (Air Awakens 2.5), Elise Kova, E, 3/5, Kind of unnecessary, didn´t really add anything.

27. Earth´s End (Air Awakens 3), Elise Kova, E, 4/5, See 23.

28. The Thousand-Dollar Tan Line (Veronica Mars 1), Rob Thomas, E, 3/5, Was good when i read it but now after season 4 it just makes me sad.

29.  Mr. Kiss and Tell (Veronica Mars 2), Rob Thomas, E, 3/5, see 28.

30. China Rich Girlfriend (Crazy Rich Asians 2), Kevin Kwan, E, 4/5, A LOT of Characters but otherwise really great.

31. Rich People Problems (Crazy Rich Asians 3), Kevin Kwan, E, 3/5, see 30.

32. Witchmark (The Kingston Cycle 1), C.L.Polk, D, 5/5, Won it on lovelybooks (thanks again for that), amazing queer fantasy (often shelved as YA, it´s NOT, the protagonists are like 30 it´s not YA).

33. Water's Wrath (Air Awakens 4), Elise Kova, E, 4/5, see 23.

34. Crystal Crowned (Air Awakens 5), Elise Kova, E, 4/5, I read this and Water´s Wrath in one night, couldn´t put it down for the life of me.

35. Vicious (Villains 1), V.E.Schwab, E, 3/5, Do you know the kind of book that while you´re reading it is like meh but then you just can´t stop thinking about it?

36.  A Curse So Dark and Lonely (Cursebreakers 1), Brigid Kemmerer, E, 4/5, Great retelling, love the mix of modern and fairytale worlds.

37. Ninja: First Mission, Chris Bradford, E, 1/5, Just makes me want part 9 of Young Samurai even more.

38. DOORS: Der Beginn (Doors 1), Markus Heitz, D, 2/5, Love the idea but couldn´t really convince me.

39. Heartless, Marissa Meyer, E, 4/5, Really heartless, in the sense that it rips your heart right out of your chest and then crushes it, I think I cried... a lot.

40. Truthwitch (Witchlands 1), Susan Dennard, E, 4/5, Great start to a series, didn´t manage to read the sequels this year will try again in 2020.

41. The Forever War, Joe Haldeman, D, 3/5, A classic of the genere for a reason.

42. A rumor of Dragons (Dragonlance Chronicles 1), Margaret Weis, D, 1/5, Boring.

43. A Discovery of Witches (All Souls 1), Deborah Harkness, E, 4/5, The love story is a little rushed, still loved it though.

44. A Darker Shade of Magic (Shades of Magic 1), V.E.Schwab, E, 4/5, Why didn´t I read this years ago? I mean it´s been on my shelf? And it´s so good!

45. Catching Fire (The Hunger Games 2), Suzanne Collins, D, 5/5, Couldn´t stop even at 4am.

46. Mockingjay (The Hunger Games 3), Suzanne Collins, D, 4/5, I think I read this and 45 in one night (Yes I didn´t sleep).

47. Wicked Fox (Gumiho 1), Kat Cho, E, 3/5, Was in a Fairyloot box, underused setting therefore very interesting.

48. The Glass of Lead and Gold (Mirrorworld short story), Cornelia Funke, E, 3/5, Lovely but when are we finally getting book 4?

49. The MirrorWorld Anthology (Mirrorworld Readalong), Cornelia Funke, D, 4/5, Turns out we´re getting book 4 in 2020. FINALLY!!!!

50.  The Graveyard Book, Neil Gaiman, E, 2/5, Meh...

51. Mythos: The Greek Myths Retold, Stephen Fry, E, 3/5, Informativ but I prefer the ones by Riordan.

52. Shadow of Night (All Souls 2), Deborah Harkness, E, 3/5, Love the timetravel but like the first one it felt a little rushed.

53. James Acaster´s Classic Scrapes, James Acaster, E, 2/5, I really like his stand up but didn´t really enjoy this book.

54.  The October Man (Rivers of London 7.5), Ben Aaronovitch, E, 3/5, It´s always funny to read foreigners writing about your culture, if you like the other rivers of London books you will like this one.

55. A Gathering of Shadows (Shades of Magyk 2), V.E.Schwab, E,4/5, As good as the first one but with Pirates!

56. Caraval (Caraval 1), Stephanie Garber, E, 3/5, It´s ok but I can´t really understand the hype.

57. Spin the Dawn (The Blood of Stars 1), Elizabeth Lim, E, 4/5, I love this one, the writing is so beautiful.

58. Angelfall (Penryn and the End of Days 1), Susan Ee, E, 3/5, The Story is ok, but I absolutely love Penryn.

59. The Sleeper and the Spindle, Neil Gaiman, E, 4/5, Great story with amazing illustrations.

60. World After (Penryn and the End of Days 2), Susan Ee, E, 3/5, see 58.

61. End of Days (Penryn and the End of Days 3), Susan Ee, E, 3/5, see 58.

62. Strange the Dreamer (Strange the Dreamer 1), Laini Taylor, E, 4/5, Lovely Story with great Characters.

63. Pan´s Labyrinth: The Labyrinth of the Faun, Cornelia Funke, D, 3/5, I read it while listening to the movie soundtrack, can reccomend.

64. Kill the Queen (Crown of Shards 1), Jennifer Estep, E, 4/5, How does she write this many books in so little Time? And how are they all so good?

65. The Return of the Warrior (Young Samurai 9), Chris Bradford, E, 4/5, Noooo its over, I could cry this series was one of my favourites as a kid.

66. Spinning Silver, Naomi Novik, E, 3/5, Good retelling that gets a little over-complicated sometimes.

67. Muse of Nightmares (Strange the Dreamer 2), Laini Taylor, E, 3/5, Wow this turned very dark very fast.

68. Skyward (Skyward 1), Brandon Sanderson, E, 5/5, Spensa and M-Bot are deffinetely some of my favourite characters ever.

69. The Priory of the Orange Tree, Samantha Shannon, E, 5/5, Very long but deffinetely worth it.

70.  The Test, Sylvain Neuvel, E, 2/5, Very relevant but not really my style.

71. Archenemies (Renegades 2), Marissa Meyer, D, 5/5, Love it.

72. Shadow and Bone (The Shadow and Bone Trilogy 1), Leigh Bardugo, E, 4/5, God I just love the Setting.

73. Siege and Storm (The Shadow and Bone Trilogy 2), Leigh Bardugo, E, 4/5,  I know it´s not a very popular opinion but Mal is my favourite.

74.Ruin and Rising (The Shadow and bone Trilogy 3), Leigh Bardugo, E, 3/5, Bit disapointing as an ending but a rollercoaster in terms of feelings.

75. The Wrath and the Dawn (The Wrath and the Dawn 1), Reneè Ahdieh, E, 5/5, I think this is the 3rd time I read this it´s so good.

76. Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Hogwarts Library 1), Newt Scamander, E, 3/5

77. Quidditch Through the Ages (Hogwarts Library 2), Kennilworthy Whisp, E, 5/5, I love this one it´s so funny.

78. The Tales of Beedle the Bard (Hogwarts Library 3), J.K.Rowling, E, 3/5

79. Short Stories from Hogwarts of Heroism, Hardship and Dangerous Hobbies (Pottermore Presents 1), J.K.Rowling, E, 4/5, It´s about McGonagall and Lupin of course it´s good.

80. Short Stories from Hogwarts of Power, Politics and Pesky Poltergeists (Pottermore Presents 2), J.K.Rowling, E, 2/5

81. Hogwarts: An Incomplete and Unreliable Guide (Pottermore Presents 3), J.K.Rowling, E, 3/5

82. Harry Potter: A Journey Through Charms and Defence Against the Dark Arts, J.K.Rowling, E, 2/5

83. The Traitor´s Kiss (The Traitor´s Circle 1), Erin Beaty, D, 2/5, A friend of mine realls loves this but I thought it was quite boring but I think that was just the translation that didn´t sit right with me it was kind of weird.

84. Mermaids: The Myths, Legends, and Lore, Skye Alexander, E, 2/5, Not as good as Vampires or Wizzards.

85. The Rose and the Dagger (The Wrath and the Dawn 2), Reneè Ahdieh, E, 3/5, Disapointing after the brilliant first one.

86. All Fall Down (Embassy Row 1), Ally Carter, E, 3/5, Didn´t really like it.

87. The Book of Life (All Souls 3), Deborah Harkness, E, 3/5, Good Ending, again very rushed.

88. Supernova (Renegades 3), Marissa Meyer, E, 4/5, God I love Simon and Hugh so much Spoilers!: I didn´t like that Ace turned out to be evil after all, I thought we would get a story with respectable leaders on both sides  which is really rare. Really loved the ending when we learned more about Magpie (i really hope there will be a Sequel or Spin Off).

89. Starsight (Skyward 2), Brandon Sanderson, E, 5/5, It was amazing but I missed the  original Crew.

90.  A River of Royal Blood ( A River of Royal Blood 1), Amanda Joy, E, 3/5, So many unanswered questions left!!

91. + 92.  The Grift of the Magi (Heist Society 3.5), Ally Carter, E, 4/5, Read it twice this year once in spring and the again before Christmas.

93. Red, White & Royal Blue, Casey McQuiston, E, 5/5, Maybe the best one this year, reads like really good FanFiction, it´s sooooooo good why aren´t you reading it right now?

94. Uncommon Criminals (Heist Society 2), Ally Carter, E, 5/5, Always fantastic

95. + 96. Perfect Scoundrels (Heist Society 3), Ally Carter, E, 5/5, So good I read it twice in a row.

97. Doctor Who: The Legends of River Song, Multiple Authors, E, 3/5,

98. Winter´s zerbrechlicher Fluch, Julia Adrian, D, 3/5, Only read if you really know your german fairytales it´s really confusing even if you know a lot about them.

99. Aurora Rising (Aurora Cycle 1), Amie Kaufman, E, 4/5, “They are not the heroes we wanted. They are just the ones we could find.”

100. Palace of Glass (Reckless Readalong), Cornelia Funke, D, 4/5, Can´t wait for Book 4!! Untill then i love everything that even mentions Jacob and Celeste.

Did you read any of these this year? Or any other year? Do you want to? What were your favourites of this year?

I hope you all had a fantastic 2019 and will have an even better 2020!

[asteriskemily]

The Five People Duck Fell For

(And The One Who, Quite Literally, Picked Him Up)

Here’s a kinda shitty, but kinda okay fic that I wrote because I didn’t know that needed Waynerva until Justin handed it to me on a silver platter. 

If Wayne Newton has to real think about it, he would say that his first crush was on Danny Keil in the second grade. They lived in the same cul-de-sac and their mothers were both on the PTA, so they were often made to spend time together. They walked to school together, they ate lunch together, and they played tag together. It was the perfect friendship for two eight year old boys.

Danny moved away in the third grade. His mom was still around, but Wayne would never again see Danny. Wayne’s mom told him that Danny’s parents got divorced. Wayne didn’t know what that meant, but he knew that Danny was gone.

Wayne hadn’t realized that it was a crush at the time. He barely knew what a crush was and when he learned what it was, he didn’t know he could have one on a boy. By the time he recognized what it had been, Wayne had already been taught that boys liking boys was a bad thing, so he chose to avoid thinking about his first friend.

-

Wayne had his first kiss at a birthday party in the fifth grade and it was the beginning of his whirlwind romance with Becky Emberson. They shared pudding cups and pushed each other on the swings during recess and once Wayne gave her a dandelion on Valentine’s Day to show that he really loved her.

Becky’s favorite subject was art and Wayne’s was English and, because of that, Becky said that they were too different and that they had to break up. Wayne was absolutely heartbroken. One month later Juno Devine came to Kepler with three things that Wayne found fascinating: a Polaroid camera, a Walkman, and a love for nature that he had never seen in anyone else. Juno became his best friend and together they sat in the woods, listening to R.E.M. and taking stupid pictures of each other. Wayne made silly faces at the camera and when the picture came sliding out of it Juno laughed and said that his mouth looked like a duck’s bill. She took a pen and wrote, under the picture, Wayne “The Duck” Newton.  The nickname stuck.

-

Tabatha and all of her friends were attractive, popular, and loaded. He asked her out on a dare and was shocked when she actually said yes. They went to a drive in movie theater that was just outside of town and made out in her car while The Empire Strikes Back played in the background. They dated for three months and neither of them found the relationship particularly interesting. She took him skiing on his 18th birthday and he fell down the mountain and nearly broke his legs. He then limped to the Wolf Ember and had his first ever bowl of French onion soup and it changed his life. She found him there, eating soup and trying not to break down in tears at its glory. She drove him home in silence and they both knew that this would be their last date.

That same night a blue woman who was maybe a ghost or maybe computers told him that he was destined for greatness, but he couldn’t stop thinking about the soup and the math test he had on Tuesday and how he wasn’t the right guy to save the world.

-

Duck wanted to get as far away from Kepler as he could. Away from the people he was only half-friends with, away from the mom that called Juno a dead beat just because she didn’t fit the perfect standard of what she thought a girl should be, away from whatever destiny he may or may not actually have. The farthest he could get was Marshal University. Even if he wasn’t so far from Kepler, it was like a whole other world. A world with less stress about destinies and more cell service. A world where he didn’t feel terrified when he was calling that cute boy he met at the campus bar and asking him out on a date. Duck Newton dated Charlie Wallace for nearly three years before he got a letter from his little sister that told him that their mom had died in a car crash.

That same day, Duck packed his bags and bought a bus ticket back to Kepler. He told Charlie goodbye and they both knew that they wouldn’t be able to keep in touch. When Duck got to Kepler he hugged June and they both cried. Their dad died when they were little and now their mom was gone too. This was all the family that they had left.

Duck got an apartment and a job and he finished college online. June went to school and tried to have normal life. Duck became a ranger and June made it all the way to Harvard to become a lawyer. Everything was normal. That is, until Duck had a dream about an archway made of stone and suddenly Minerva was back.

-

Duck thought that the mothman was hot. He may be just a regular guy now, but he was a regular guy who knew where the mothman lived. He went to knock on the door to the winnebago that Indrid lived in and it opened before his fist connected. Indrid smiled at him with a grin that seemed to wide to be human. This is because it in fact wasn’t human. Duck asked him out for coffee and Indrid agreed. They sat and talked about having visions of the future while they drank coffee and shared a scone. 

It was the first date that either of them had been on in quite some time and as they walked back to the winnebago Indrid informed Duck that it was the last one that they would be going on together. He told Duck that there wasn’t a future where the two of them ended up together and that there was no point in delaying the inevitable. In the months following the date, Duck would think back to what Indrid said to him as he walked away, still wearing his too-wide, inhuman grin.

“So few people have true soulmates, Duck Newton. I wouldn’t want to get in the way of that.”

-

Minerva had been quiet lately. While she usually went through life roaring like a clap of thunder, since the end of the battle that she had been fighting for who knows how long, she was more silent. Duck didn’t necessarily think it was a bad thing. She seemed calm like she was finally at peace.

He came home to find Minerva laying on the floor with Moony the cat sitting proudly on her chest.

“Wayne Newton,” she chuckled at her own joke before it had the chance to come out of her mouth “I fear that this deceptively small beast has felled me. I lay here, trapped by its powerful grasp, unable to escape. Please, Wayne Newton, flee before you suffer the same fate.”

“I refuse to run and leave you behind, Minerva! I will save you!” Duck set down his groceries and playful ran to Minerva’s side. He crouched down and picked up Moony, then set her down on the ground. Moony ran off to scratch up Ducks pillows. He plopped down next to Minerva as she sat up.

“You have saved me, Wayne Newton. I am forever in your debt.” Minerva pushed herself off the floor and offered a hand to Duck. She pulled him up and put a hand on his shoulder. Her smile was brighter than any of stars in the universe.

“Would you help me with the groceries?” He asked. It was something easy, something normal. They both needed a lot more of that. For a little bit they worked in silence and then Minerva spoke up.

“I have something that I feel that I need to speak to you about, Wayne Newton.” She seemed serious and  almost nervous. The tone made Duck nervous too.

“Yeah, what’s up?” He tried to seem calm as he set aside the ingredients for the soup that they would be attempting to make for dinner that night.

“Since we finally fulfilled our destinies things have been very calm.” She started. Duck nodded along, listening intently. “And I think that that is a good thing. It is nice to have the opportunity to be calm and to think about something other than a battle that is coming. And now that I’ve had that time to think, I’ve been thinking a lot about how lucky it was that I ended up choosing you. I know that it was a somewhat random choice, but I highly doubt that things would have gone the way that they did had it been anyone else.” For a moment she paused. She looked as though she was considering whether or not she was going to keep going. In the end she must have decided to continue.

“You are someone who is very important to me, Wayne Newton, and I cannot imagine a world where we never met. You changed my life. When I had chosen Leo, he was truly just a warrior that I was training, but when you and I started training together, you became friends. I am grateful that you taught me how to be someone’s friend again.” Duck smiled at her.

“I can’t imagine a life without you either, Minnie.” Duck had been thinking about this for some time now as well. “I-When we lost our connection, it was really hard for me. Not just because I wasn’t as tough as I usually am, but because I lost one of the most important people in my life. You showed upon

and you turned my whole world upside down and I’m so much better off because of that. I used to think that I was just a guy and then you told me that I could be more than that. Maybe at first I didn’t want to believe you, but it got to the point where I wanted to prove you right.” Suddenly Duck realized something and what Indrid told him finally made sense. He didn’t know what to say next, scared of what might happen. And then it was like Minerva had read his mind.

“I believe that I am in love with you, Wayne Newton, and If what I have observed about human romantic behavior is correct then I believe that this is the point at which I should be asking you on a date.” Minerva’s cheeks were growing darker as she spoke.

“I would like that.” All at once Duck was, quite literally, swept off of his feet as Minerva pulled him into a bear hug. Smiled and looked up at her as they settled into something that was less like her hugging him and more like her carrying him bridal style. “And hey, guess what.”

“What, Wayne Newton?”

“I love you too, Minnie.”

[sirkkasnow]

02 Always Take the Nickel Tour

Ao3 link

07/01/13 Monday

Morning dawned with a pleasant chill. Between Stan, Soos and Ford, they got the old station wagon - a sky-blue Ford Fairlane - rolled away from the house and tucked in at a shallow angle next to the Stanleymobile. The S still leaned forlornly against the dented siding. They’d get it hauled up and nailed back into place later.

Stan swept the road-trip debris off the front passenger seat and cracked the glove compartment. He set aside the age-yellowed manual and the service records, most of them crisp and fragile on ancient transfer paper, one new, extensive and computer-printed.

He then flipped through everything else, scanning with an expert eye for items of interest. 

Brand new insurance card in the name of Clara Jane Merrick. A small collection of much older insurance cards in the name of Charles and Caroline Merrick. Vintage pressure gauge, matte black LED flashlight, heavy-framed designer sunglasses, can of pepper spray.

Photograph in a gold-stamped cardboard frame. Stan fished that one out, curious. The photo stock was the old-school linen textured stuff. Three blondes of varying shades grinned back at him, lined up like nesting dolls by age – forties, twenties, preteen – with matching sunhats and huge smiles. The smallest and darkest-haired was instantly recognizable as Clary. She was maybe twelve years old here, a beaky girl still growing into the aquiline nose neither of the others shared. He flexed the frame in one hand, squinting in to read the penned inscription on the photo's back - Carrie, Charlie, Clary.

Stan filed that away for later reference, returned the less-relevant stuff to the glove compartment, then leaned way over along the bench seat to pull the hood release.

The sun had slipped past noon by the time Clary finally emerged from the house, looking far less threadbare than she had the prior night. She was crisply dressed in yesterday’s Bermuda shorts, a fresh button-down shirt and a silk scarf patterned with dragonflies - wrapped twice, snug, knotted off-center at the throat. “Good afternoon, Stan.”

“Hey, Clary. Feelin’ better?” He was elbow-deep in the car’s guts by now, a few unsalvageable bits laid out on an old towel to one side. Grease streaked his forearms. The engine was pretty nice for something near the age of his own wheels, a huge V-8 that had seen very little use. This must have spent most of its life in a garage.

Clary stepped in alongside Stan, peering despondently into the engine compartment. “Sore, but rested, at least. What’s the diagnosis?”

Stan hissed in thought. “Drive belt assembly’s shot, electricals are kind of a mess. Radiator hoses of course. Think the engine block’s okay. The body damage isn’t too bad.”

Clary ran exploring fingers along the battered chrome of the front grill, mouth set in an unhappy line. “Except for the concave hood, I suppose. What can I do to help?”

“Know anythin’ about cars?”

“Repair? Not a thing.”

“It’s gonna be a while.” Stan glanced sidelong to study her profile.

“Ford said it may take weeks.” Clary’s tone was conflicted, teeth catching lightly at her lower lip, brow furrowed.

“Ford doesn’t know what he’s talkin’ about when it comes to cars, but yeah, he’s not wrong. This thing’s old and the parts are gonna be a pain to scavenge up.” Stan straightened and toweled off his hands. “Orderin’ stuff in would take a while and I know from experience that you don’t always get the right widget through the mail. Might have a couple ideas about local sources…we’ll see. You okay?”

That air of pinched distress was tight around her eyes again. She rolled her shoulders back, looking up and out into the forest. An unhurried breeze set thousands of green-velvet branches into whispering motion. “Okay enough. It’s gorgeous here,” almost as an afterthought.

Stan flicked his gaze heavenwards for a weary moment. Yeah, she’d be staying for the duration. What the hell was it with tourists and pines? “Y’get used to it. Check out the Shack yet?”

“Not yet. I was promised an expert guide.” She stepped away, heading around the back of the wagon to unlatch and hoist down the mountain bike from its rack. A faint residue of reddish dust clung to the tire rims. “Maybe when I’m done unpacking the basics? Since I’m going to be here a few days, there are people who need to know my plans have changed.”

“Thought you were on vacation.”

“Money never sleeps, and unfortunately it’s easy to get some things done on the road.”

She trailed back and forth for a while, parking the bike and hauling a larger duffel bag into the house. Stan worked methodically through the last few items on his engine checklist and jotted down an occasional note. By the time she returned he had a more or less complete catalogue of what needed work. He lowered the badly-dented hood into place and latched it. “Fixin’ this is gonna be an adventure.”

“I was afraid you’d say that. Let me know what you need in terms of parts, I can cover whatever – “

Stan ducked his head, stifling the wide flash of his grin behind one hand. “Careful, kid, don’t leave yourself quite that wide open. This is pretty much on Ford anyway so I’ll take most of it out of his hide. C’mon.” Clary paced in his wake, looking up and out across the Shack grounds like she hadn’t bothered before – probably a fair enough assessment after yesterday’s chaos. “So car repair’s not your bag, no shock that. How about arts and crafts? Tall tales? Improv?”

“I’ve had to put on a song-and-dance routine for the IRS a few times. Does that count?”

That startled a laugh out of him. “Depends on whether you pulled it off.”

“I definitely pulled it off. At least no one’s come looking for me yet.”

“Maybe you help me help Soos around the Shack, then, put those tap-dancin’ skills to the test. A favor for a favor.”

Clary frowned at him in puzzlement. “I’m game to try. This is all a bit outside my wheelhouse.”

“Honestly, you could get stuck in way worse places than this. We’ve got tons of stuff for the discernin’ passerby. Merchandise, magic, mystery, uh, mayhem, you get the picture.”

They walked through the house and he held the showroom door open for a moment. Clary peeked through at the flock of tourists trailing after Soos like happy ducklings. “You interested in this kinda stuff?”

“Interested enough to read the bumper sticker. Not enough to actually plan you into my itinerary.”

“Damn shame, that, you’d be missin’ out on the ninth wonder of the world.” He managed to time it in sync with Soos’ patter, the rhythm of the show familiar as breathing, and got a chuckle in return. “They’ll wrap up in a few, we’ll take a quick look at the gift shop until they clear out. Then you get your Founder’s Tour.”

“That’s you, then, not Soos?”

“Got it in one. I built this place from the ground up! Sure, the house was here and the junk was here, but I’m the one who spun it into a wondrous house of mysterious junk.” His hands swept up and out in a marquee arc. Clary gave him that wry, oblique glance he was getting used to.

The gift shop was temporarily abandoned. Stan made himself comfortable leaning against the counter and watched her pace the periphery, trailing careful fingertips over the snow globes. “Take a look around! If you see an impulse buy, make it.”

“I’ll pick out a few things before I go. If I don’t have physical evidence, no one will believe that I was here.” She picked up a snow globe, flipped it over to stir the flakes into motion, then set it down with exaggerated caution and headed for the freezer.

“Just because you’re stayin’ over does not mean you get to sneak in here for an ice pop.” He watched her peer through the glass at their collection of frozen novelties. “This as far out west as you’ve gotten? I mean, we’re off the beaten path and you’re just passin’ through, right? Most folks would’ve taken the main route north of here.”

“This is my fifth state in - “ She frowned, then sighed. “Three days with the overnight, I guess. I’ve been taking it slow and sticking to the state highways, since I’m traveling solo.”

“Long way to drive alone.”

“Yes.” Clary skimmed through the T-shirt rack and plucked out a question mark to hold up against her chest. “You started this place up, then. Can I ask how long you’ve been at it? There’s some history here, I can see that much.”

“Thirty years.” Easier to say now that the long wait was over, that was for sure. He studied her thoughtfully; she was a tough read compared to the usual Gravity Falls crowd. “Can’t say that I ever thought I’d start to enjoy this line of work, originally the idea was just to get the mortgage paid, but go figure. Built a pretty nice business out of tellin’ lies – ‘scuse me, stories.”

A bare sliver of a smile curled along her lips. “You did. I can tell this is a local institution. You’re retired now?”

“More or less. My brother wanted to haul me off on an expedition. Couldn’t say no.” Stan ducked his chin, smiling to himself. “Couldn’t up an’ close the place either, so I left it all to Soos. Been nice to come back and see what he’s made of it, stick my hand in again. You can take the man out of the Mystery Shack, but you can’t take the mystery out of the man, I guess.”

Clary came to rest at the counter next to him, hands empty, he noted. “So I get a rare chance at a tour from the original Mr. Mystery.”

“What, nothin’ here inspires you to drop a wad of cash?”

“I think I’ll make my purchases after I have a functioning car.”

“Fair enough. You’re about to witness a true master in action.” The excited murmur of shopping-primed tourists was beginning to build at the interior door. “We’ve got maybe twenty minutes before the next gaggle rolls through, so you get the short form. Anythin’ specific you want to see?”

They slipped out of the shop as the current group started to trickle in, ducking into the showroom. Stan couldn’t help sweeping an arm out to indicate the entire collection. “Behold, the Mystery Shack!”

Clary appraised the exhibits with cool cynicism. “Which one of these gets the least attention? I’ve always loved the half-hidden displays best.”

She strolled at his side, hands in her pockets, lips twitching now and then as he spun familiar stories. Coaxing a laugh out of her at the right points, a smile here and there, felt like a little victory. There was a customer like this in every tour, the one who’d been dragged along by family or friends. If that one could be won over the rest of the group would be eating out of his hand.

“I have no idea what this is. Must be a Soos addition.” Stan peered at the tiny huts shingled with pine cone scales built into a series of branches suspended from one of the ceilings, glittering with well-concealed LED lights. “All right, the Village of Cannibal Pixies, to whom we’re apparently now rentin’ space in the showroom. They’re out huntin’ their fellow fairies for the rest of the day, but they’ll be back this evenin’ and no doubt throwin’ quite the party, which is just as well, because most of the other fairies ‘round these parts are about as much fun as a root canal….”

She had to bite her lip against a horrified laugh. “I thought these were all your creations?”

“Nah. You’ve gotta keep the mix fresh. Throw in somethin’ new and the tourists will flock through the doors. It’s been almost a year since I got to add a new exhibit, actually.” Stan nudged her in the side with an elbow. “And you are gonna help me put my mark on the place again. Think you’ve soaked up enough inspiration?”

“I’ve soaked up something. Inspiration for what, exactly?” Stan ushered her through another door, one tucked into the shadow of a larger display’s curtain. They wove together through a twisting hallway and he savored her blink of surprise when they emerged a few steps down the hall from the kitchen.

“We’re makin’ another attraction for the showroom.” He’d already laid out most of the basics earlier that morning, with a vague plan towards taking stock and maybe patching some bits and bobs together, but the prospect of testing their new guest’s creative skills – not patience, that’d be rude – was too good to pass up.

The contents of the kitchen table were pauper’s choices, honestly. A handful of pelts, odds and ends left over from birds long since parted out for other projects, a couple of smaller skulls, coils of heavy aluminum wire for armatures. Clary sifted through the remnants with a careful hand and a dubious expression.

“Surprise me.” He dropped off a tack hammer and a few brads on his way past. She made a faint incredulous noise, her head swiveling to follow, and Stan shot her a flat look of challenge: Show me what you’ve got, bean-counter.

Her shoulders stiffened, and she settled cautiously into one of the kitchen chairs. “Pliers?”

“Toolbox under the table.”

The toolbox jangled heavily as she hauled it up into easy reach. He tuned out the low noise of her work for a while. His own projects kept him plenty busy – sprucing up the display cards for a couple of the new oddities Soos had incorporated, reviewing the merch inventory and a couple of new concepts, moving on with a hum of pleasure to update the current supply list for the Stan O’War.

It was the better part of an hour before he heard the chair scrape back. “Tinfoil?” Clary asked.

“Two drawers over from the fridge.”

A few clunks and a crinkle, then he heard her muttering spoon, spoon under her breath, clattering through the silverware drawer. She paced back over to the table and dragged the chair back in with a shallow sigh. Stan glanced over and saw her hunched over an armature, brow creased as she padded out the shape.

“You all right over there?” He was trying not to laugh. This was not the kind of focus he’d been expecting.

“Flashbacks to high school art class, nothing too traumatic, I promise.”

This went on for a while. Stan drifted out of the kitchen to track down one of the Shack ledgers and his last box of spare critter bits, which he set wordlessly at her elbow. She ransacked the contents and didn’t look up when she spoke. “Putty?” He rattled through a drawer and dropped off half a jumbo packet of the plumber’s two-part type on the table, which Clary pulled in and unwrapped.

It was well past five when something mostly complete sat before her. She had come up with a compact little mustelid nightmare, something weaselish in build with elaborate grasping talons pieced together from every sharp claw remaining amid the sorry leftovers he’d dumped out of his dwindling box of tricks. Wings scavenged from a sharp-shinned hawk he’d collected on some roadside ages ago were anchored in half-furled at the shoulders. The mink skull had been carefully if inexpertly re-skinned. Brow ridges and tiny, twisting horns sculpted out of plumber’s putty crowned the toothy head.

The thing was cute in an amateur way. He thought, bemused, that it might make a decent plush toy.

Clary flipped the critter over, features creased in complete concentration as she stitched in the last bits along the belly. “Got any paint?”

Stan folded his arms, trying and failing to suppress a grin. “Y’know, normally I’d just patch together bits from a fish, a squirrel and a chicken, and call it good.”

“Hell with that, we’ve got tourists to impress.” Clary hissed under her breath as she stabbed herself with the needle. When she finally stretched, he heard her neck pop and saw the wince. “What time is it anyway?”

“Half past time to pack it in, kid.”

She sat up straight in surprise, glancing out the window into the saturated deep-golden light of late, late afternoon. “Oh no.”

Stan tilted his thumb her way, letting the grin widen. “So I think you might be on the hook for pizza tonight. Seein’ as how you’ve been dead to the world for hours and we’d be goin’ with cereal otherwise.”

An indignant pause hung in the air as her brows rose sharply. “There’s still plenty of time for me to call my insurance company. I might well have whiplash. Those old-school bench seats with no headrest are infamous for that.”

He slung a dirty look over his shoulder as he retrieved the paintbox from a cupboard. “Ford said you were fine.”

“I don’t think I heard him mention a medical degree in that list he rattled off.”

“All right, fine, we’ll split pizza for the gang.” Her eyes narrowed to calculating slits. “Lady, you drive a hard bargain. Howsabout you tell me what this thing is and then we’ll talk.” Stan opened the paintbox and sorted through half-empty tubes of acrylics. “You know how to drybrush?”

“Nope.” Clary studied her spiky-clawed creation, somewhat at a loss. “Let me mull this over a moment….”

“It helps to have some idea what you’re doin’ before you start stitchin’ things together, y’know.” Stan picked out a dark chocolate brown and laid down a quick basecoat on the horns. “You’ve outfoxed the IRS? Then all you gotta do is think on your feet.”

There was a brief quiet. The weight of her gaze lingered on him as he dipped into a deep purple and started shading along the inner edge of the brow ridge.

“This is the lesser Northwestern horned hawkweasel,” she said at length, adopting the deep, plummy tone of a nature-documentary narrator. “Or the midnight mink. Fierce far out of proportion to their size, these crafty, fearless creatures feed mainly on fish and whatever birds they can catch. Usually solitary, as the moon wanes they gather up in gangs to hunt their favored prey – nightmares. The bigger, the better.”

“Where’s a winged weasel gonna find nightmares in the depths of the Cascades?” Stan plucked out a liner brush and limned the eyes with a perfect pinstripe of metallic teal.

“Everything that can think has dreams. These little fellas like the blackest, bleakest ones they can find, and some of the denizens of these forests have deep and terrible dreams. If not for these guys, some of those denizens might wake up.”

Stan snorted in soft amusement as he laid highlights in along the horns. “Not terrible for a first shot. Soos might dig the idea, and hell, at least Lovecraft’s long since out of copyright, yeah?” He sat back, assessing, then touched on a last few dots of color. “This is about as show-ready as it’s gonna get. Hang on a sec.”

He toted the not-quite-weasel down to the office, setting it on the least cluttered file cabinet for later – it was going to need a story card at the very least – then swung by the deserted gift shop, cracking the vending machine open to fish out a couple of ice-cold Pitts. Clary was packing away tools by the time he returned to the kitchen, and he set a can within easy reach. “Nothin’ like a cold one to finish up the day. Cheers.”

“Cheers.” She picked up her can, popped it, then tapped its edge against his. “I’ve got to wonder.” He eyed her, momentarily wary, as he dropped into his own chair. “What possessed a man from New Jersey to land way out here in the hinterlands of Oregon? It’s certainly pretty, but this is about as close to the absolute middle of nowhere as I’ve ever been.”

“You actually interested in me? Or do you ask everyone these kinda questions?”

“I’m mainly interested in you.”

That was a bit of a surprise. A chuckle snagged in Stan’s chest as he met her frank regard. “Usually the longest I can get people to listen to me is when I’m sellin’ somethin’, and even then it’s tough luck.”

“I don’t buy that for a second.” The faint curve of her smile was half obscured by the rim of her soda can. “No way you kept this place running for so long without knowing how to string an audience along in suspense.”

“It’s, ah, it’s a knack. I’ve been good at it ever since I was a kid.” He cleared his throat and took a lingering sip, buying a moment. Her brows quirked in expectation. “So, you’re serious?”

“How long do you plan on leaving me in suspense?”

“The last time someone started askin’ personal questions, she tried to eat me,” Stan muttered. “Can you imagine? I’m practically skin and bones.”

That bought him a sharp laugh, right on the beat. “Come on. You can’t just leave it there.”

Stan took a long look at her, then drew breath, fired up the cockiest grin in his repertoire, and launched in. “So, y’see, there’s this irresistible thing called ‘revenge’….”

Clary was a good listener and a better interrogator, absorbing whatever outrageous half-truth he had to offer without scoffing, pressing with well-targeted questions at every opportunity. Every time she cut close to the bone he’d flash her something shiny to distract. Verbal sleight-of-hand was so second nature by now that he barely noticed doing it. Stan couldn’t tell how much of it she was buying, which was disconcerting as hell.

In the end he paid for the pizza. She slipped in behind him to press an overgenerous tip into the delivery driver’s hand.

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There are plenty of repair records in the glove box, the old manual, and some other potentially interesting odds and ends.

Just take the repair records and the manual.

Go through all the personal paperwork.

Is there any money in there?