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Prompt: Love Letter

**inspired by: The Great Showman

**I changed around the names cos they were just the way they came into my head and I like it better this way.

He thought her hair was dyed at first. Of course, he should have known better. This was Barnum’s Circus, where all oddities and social causalities gathered. After he realized that she was just naturally such a colourful person, he just couldn’t take his eyes off her. The gaze was such an intense one that he himself knew that she must have noticed the attention. And he liked that idea, that she could notice him with just a glance.

A glance. That was what his old plays used to call “falling in love.” Romeo took a glance at Juliet, and the two were instantly star-crossed lovers. No one smiled at that love, and no one took joy from the tragedy, but everyone clapped at the glance. He had thought they were all lies, no less fake than Barnum’s show. How could he have known he would be the one glancing?

Troy sighed as he put his pen down. Even after he started working with Barnum, he hadn’t put his pen down. Although what he wrote was no longer conventional, he had enjoyed the process of ink soaking paper. That was enough, he had thought. That was worth giving up money and honour, his family. He had thought Barnum had taught him a lesson. Art is in joy, and joy is art. But what was this thing that he had in front of himself tonight?

“Everybody has an act.”

That was her first words. The colourful words had stuck to his heart, motivated him to continue writing. He tried to be as colourful as her, unconsciously. Today, though, this mess of an emotion in front of him was nothing but conventional, nothing but true, and nothing but joyless. Troy imagined his parents reading the letter and finding out who it was addressed to. How would they react? How would she react?

“Zendaya.”

He tried mouthing her name, but then frantically scrambled up from his chair. Had someone just passed by his room? Troy walked up to the door. Not a shadow was in sight.

“Zendaya,” he whispered.

Even her name was joyful, melodic and ringing from the start to the end. She certainly had an act. Everything about her was an act, she was joy in herself. Maybe that joy had gotten to his head, too.

“Zendaya,” he said out loud. With a little more confidence, in a larger voice than before.

“Yes?”

She walked into his room. Her pink hair was bouncing off her shoulders—she must have just come back from practice. The colour demanded his attention, just like the first time he met her. His attention was so focused on her hair, he didn’t notice what she was saying.

Only when she came closer, her hand closed over his fingers, did he convert his gaze to her eyes, not her hair. What was she doing? Should he close his eyes? But how had she known? Or had she been of the same mind all along?

“Thank you, I’ll read it tonight.”

A sudden rush of heat seemed to escape Troy’s body as she regained her distance with him. The letter was in her hands. Before he could catch her, Zendaya turned out the door in one fluid move like a true trapeze artist would do.

“I wanted to give this letter to you,” he had said.

“Gladly, if it’s one from you,” she had replied.

What should he do now? Troy threw his body on his bed and retraced the content of that letter. Then smiled. Maybe conventional wasn’t as joyless as he thought.

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Prompt: What is Over the Rainbow?

**inspired by: N.Flying- Rooftop

It’s been twenty years since I’ve started walking this slippery road. I had set off at the rumour that those who get to the end of the rainbow would reach a utopia where there was no want or need. It was a rumour with evidence. Karen from two houses down the road had walked the rainbow and come back with an armful of treasures enough to feed her family with gold forever. Now her family is happy. Seeing her family, I decided I would walk the rainbow, too.

From far away, the rainbow had seemed so small, such a short walk. Anyone could walk to the end by the time the sun sets, I had thought. But twenty years later, I am still on this road. The sun has set and rose again thousands of times, yet I am still walking this slippery road, on the verge of falling off, but never falling.

Now the sun is setting again. It reminds me of the time I was crying on my walk back home from school. I don’t remember exactly why, but they had been just small matters all come together. Those small worries, starting from an upcoming quiz to a secret I was left out of among friends, then mother’s worries about father’s pay to the handful of homework due tomorrow, had just burst out into tears all of a sudden. Perhaps it was the blazing glow of the sun, or the warm red of the sky. Or maybe it was the speck of dust that blew into my eyes.

Karen was the one who found me first. She didn’t really do anything. She just tugged at my hands. I, eyes blurry from tears, followed her unwittingly. Where we landed was on the rooftop of Karen’s house. We waited for my tears to stop there. And when I walked into the stage of sniffling and being embarrassed that I had cried so hard in front of someone else, Karen merely told me:

“Let’s just look at the moon. I needed someone to do that with me.”

So we waited until the stars came out, then the moon came out. And when the moon came, Karen thanked me for watching the sky with her, and that I could go now. That was the last moon I remember in my life. The next day, Karen walked the rainbow, then came back by sunset with her treasures. And the day after that, I had set off.

Here, I can see the sunset, but not the moon. I have walked so high up the rainbow that the moon is below me.

Thinking about the past makes my attention slip. And with my attention, my feet nearly slip, too. But I don’t fall. I never fall. All I ever do is walk on and on and on.

But what for? What had I wanted when I set off to walk the rainbow? All I ever wanted was to be happy. But had I been any happier than when I watched the moon?

And with that thought, my feet slip. Then I fall.

Only then do I remember. It wasn’t at the end of the rainbow where the treasure was. It was over the rainbow. It took me twenty years to realize that. So now I let myself fall down the rainbow, off the slippery road, off the colourful road that had been nothing but anxiety.

And where do I land but on the rooftop of Karen’s house?

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Aphrodite Cabin Thoughts

Okay so I know a lot of Aphrodite kids are described as hating battle, always talking about makeup and stuff.

But seriously that is such an underrating.

You know how a lot of demigods have dark family history and are probably scarred both mentally and physically before they come to Camp Half Blood?

Of course the Apollo kids will be there to heal the physical stuff.

Sometimes though, actually most times, kids don’t want to show their bruises, or signs of bad family history.

So what if the Aphrodite kids, with all their makeup knowledge

ARE THE ONES WHO COVER THEIR BRUISES?

And being Aphrodite kids, they would be super sensitive to what others feel, human relationships, and what the other person would want to hear.

So although they don’t all have charmspeak, they’re just generally good with words, and making others feel better.

THEN GUESS WHO HEALS ALL THE MENTAL SCARS?

Seriously Rick Riordan abandonned so many possibilities.

- give me Apollo kids and Aphrodite kids always being teamed up to heal the demigods, both physically and mentally

- give me Aphrodite kids not being looked down on, or just being called the ‘pretty face,’ because everyone has a secret entrusted in those kids

- give me Aphrodite kids who may not be able to battle a monster, but can make them turn away by talking about their pain and sympathizing

- give me Aphrodite kids who are always friends with the ‘outcasts,’ because they simply cannot allow such negative human relationships

Just, Aphrodite kids could have been so much more than the “well, there’s still Silena and Piper” cabin.

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Sally Jackson Theories

Okay so the reason why Sally married Smelly Gabe was so that his human smell would cover Percy’s demigod smell right?

But how did Sally come across a person like Smelly Gabe in the first place? Did she just meet him by chance and go ‘Oh, he’s smelly. He’ll cover for my son.’?

Maybe, but I believe Sally had the plan in mind all along and was just searching for the right person being the strong and smart person she is.

So what if she went off searching for a person like Smelly Gabe herself? What if she went to all these parties and bars and gambling places. And she goes to the people who party, gamble, drink hardest thinking that might be the one. And it turns out

THAT PERSON’S A DIONYSUS KID

And she goes through this a few times. But she keeps in touch with these grown demigods, because they understand and help her find the person she’s looking for.

And when the war starts, a group of grown demigods come to help—

ALL ASSEMBLED BY SALLY JACKSON AND THE DIONYSUS KIDS

And they’re all like “Man, we’re too old for this. We thought we graduated all this shit when we left camp.” But they fight hard nontheless because they now have a life they want to protect.

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Wizard-Muggle Relationships

I have this theory that the reason why the magical society couldn’t take over muggles is because wizards are totally dependent on muggles for food.

Because who has ever heard of a farming witch or wizard?

Dumbledore and many other wizards go like “muggles aren’t inferior, look at their science,” but what about before science? What about the witch hunt? How was that possible? Because the wizarding society is dependent on muggles for survival.

So basically it might be that people born with magical powers have this energy around them that magical plants can stand but normal food plants like wheat cannot. Therefore their food ingrediants have to be bought from the muggles, hence the effort to be on good terms with them.

And if this is true, Voldemort and the Deatheaters might have been trying to rule, not just to prove the superiority of blood, but to have better access to food. Which I think explains why they gathered so many followers-  they weren’t just all ideal, they had some practical benefit to offer the followers.

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Narnia vs Text Posts  Part 2/??

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Scorpius and Albus.

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Remus: Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day?

Remus: Cause thou hast NO FUCKING CLASS

Sirius, crying: not tRUE