#(1 of those moments where i feel like dora the explorer having to ask the audience for things i already know but the crangel doesn't)

[biblically-inaccurate-crangel]

*Now that they have all of the flower crowns ready and hanging from one of their arms, they decide to head off to gift Coffee's first...despite not knowing the way Whole took them to see him last time.*

ł ₵ØɄⱠĐ...ɄⱧ...ⱤɆ₳ⱠⱠɎ Ʉ₴Ɇ ₴Ø₥Ɇ ĐłⱤɆ₵₮łØ₦₴ ₮Ø ₲Ɇ₮ ₮Ø ₩ⱧɆⱤɆ ₵Ø₣₣ɆɆ ł₴...ł₣ ł ₵ØɄⱠĐ ₲Ɇ₮ ₳₦Ɏ...?

[yourstrulykiri]

💬 [메일이 있어요!!] 4 u!

'♡' My only one (heeseung x fem!reader) — ‘forced marriage’ m-list! profile! series m-list! ( fluff, angst, lmk if I missed anything else!

Summary ⎯ Getting into a forced marriage is stressful, but hey at least you were able to marry someone with a pretty face and a not so bad personality! Oh boy. A/N: starting out from top to bottom! Sorry if this is considered a late update 💀

Your hands rush through your hair in stress after given the information your gonna get married. Never in your life did you think you’d be getting married and someone actually accepting. You understood that it was for your parent’s business, and to build bonds and ties with other big businesses. Which then resulted to you having to marry one of the CEO’s son.

It was getting quite stressful for you already since.. 1 you got rejected not so long ago.. 2 you’ve never heard of the business that your ‘fiancée’ is under. It’s either your just really late in catching up with marketing or it’s just you not being interested.

Lee Heeseung wasn’t also taking this calmly. He thought he wasn’t ready for marriage yet.. but the thing is.. he always wanted to put a smile on his parents faces ever since he was little. He was doing this for them. That same evening, you told your bestfriend Karina the latest scoop about it. You, on the bed, covered in blankets, a pint of ice cream with a spoon buried in the treat. Your phone leaning on one of your other pillows as a makeshift phone stand. Meanwhile with Heeseung, “BOY IF YOU DON’T PULL YOURSELF TOGETHER..” Jay said. “What do you expect from me, I’m literally laying down hugging a Dora the explorer blanket while shoving chips in my mouth..”. Both of you were in distress, then you feel like you wanted to jump out of your window when you just realized what your parents said before you ran upstairs with your ice cream. “We will be having evening dinner with them tomorrow” those few words coming out of the mother you loved so much. You wanted to ask them to reschedule but you didn’t want to make a fuss about it. So you did what you had to do. Write a journal entry. You had those ‘main character moments’ and now that felt too real. You would store them in a little notebook that Karina gave you when you guys were little. You wrote down your thoughts, then signing it off with your name and a heart around it. Getting a sticker and sticking it on the page. Yes you thought it was childish but moments like these are moments where you had peace in. Found hope in.

The day you dreaded came upon. The stars filling up the sky, as you touched up your makeup. Going downstairs. You saw a tall and handsome man. Wait did you just say handsome?! Whatever..

A part of you is telling you to stop drop and roll but another part of you is telling you to talk to him. Heeseung was fiddling with his hands. Simply nodding at whatever your and his parents said. No one dared saying a word.. until you let out a small cough. Heeseung looked at you, “sorry..” you muttered making him chuckle.

His smile.. was all you could think of.

And that was how your first evening with lee heeseung went. You mentally slapped yourself for not actually making a decent conversation, in just a blink in time you were already wedding dress shopping. "Karina you know and I know that the only dress I'm choosing is the most cheapest one in the store." You said as you were on facetime with Karina. "Y/n-ah you know you should treat yourself for once!" Karina yelled. "What's the point when at the end when the times right we can divorce already?" You said as you wandered down the shop. "Mhm you sure your not gonna fall in love with him?" Karina said looking back at your heartbreaks. "Time won't tell. But I'm certain at this moment that Its a no." You said chuckling to yourself. ON ANOTHER EVENING WITH HIS FAMILY ⎯ now this is when you started to really rip your hair out, they were already talking about wedding rings.. you think its all happening to fast trying to ignore your parent's and heeseung's parents from all the passing of opinions. Heeseung saw your expression and practically read your mind, he slowly grabbed your hand and rubbed circles with his thumb on your palm. Even though both of you didn't know each other well, it's not too late to know more. You studied his face as you realized you were staring, looking away in embarrassment. He chuckles. "OH MY GOD Y/N X HEESEUNG CRUMBS RN BFF" Karina screamed as you told her what had happened at dinner time. "We don't even know if he's nice, what if he did that just to impress my parents." You said. "based on the k-drama's i've watched that is less likely to happen babes." Karina said raising a brow. Maybe Karina's right, maybe lee heeseung isn't all that bad. Rule #1 in marrying lee heeseung: Don't try not to fall in love. You didn't know if it's just you trying to not get heart broken again, or if you didn't like him at all. Time passes, you eventually got his number. hee :): sent a message hey y/n-ah.. if your free, would you like to facetime? y/n <;3 sent a message oh sure :) that call went on for 4 hours. After laughing at one of heeseung's effortless way to make you laugh or smile. Each time he got to see your smile, he got this warm fuzzy feeling. He didn't know how to describe it. Was he actually falling in love with y/n? You look at the time, 1:49 am. "Hee.. it's late we should probably got to bed.." You said. Heeseung snapping on of his daze, "oh yeah yeah of course.. goodnight and sweet dreams y/n-nah.." He said while smiling softly. It took a while for you to respond, the way your heart fluttered made you confused. Were you actually falling in love with lee heeseung? "Goodnight Heeseung" You said. This same routine followed for the next few months of your 'relationship' You then slept happily, you then reflected on how many times Heeseung made your heart flutter.. was this intentional? was this you being delusional? you couldn't describe the feeling. The sun met your eyes.. in a not so oh hello world expression. You grabbed your phone and then met with a notification hee :): sent a message goodmorning please open your door. Sent 2 hours ago

Your eyes widened, you quickly changed and got ready. You looked outside your window to see Heeseung sitting on the ground playing with his phone. Heeseung spotted you, he smiled as he mouthed 'are you gonna stop staring?' you quickly shut your curtains as you rushed downstairs as you opened the door. "Goodmorning.." You said as Heeseung chuckled letting himself in. "Goodmorning to you too." He smiled sitting down at the dining table. "Have you eaten?" you asked as he shook his head as a sign of no. You then grabbed the cereal box, milk, 2 bowls, 2 spoons, 2 glasses of water. You placed it on the dining table, as you both had breakfast together. It wouldn't be any other interaction with Heeseung if you wouldn't laugh your head off. "Promise me something.. you will have that same laugh until the day I die." Heeseung said. "Promise." You reflected.. forget trying to not fall in love with Heeseung, you already felt a connection ever since you met him.. every time your heart fluttered, every time your stomach would ache because of laughing too hard with Heeseung, every time you would spend 6 hours of your day talking to Heeseung about random things, you felt safe around him. Things were going so well until your parents started telling you about the wedding.. about this and that.. it started to really get up to you. Aside from that you had your part time job.. things have been going way too fast.. Heeseung related with you, saying that his parents wanted him to pick a ring already. You sighed as you plugged in your earphones, taking a stroll down.. breathing in the fresh air, the sound of children laughing, the smell of the nearby coffee shop, seeing couples having dates.. ouch.. how you wished that was you and Heeseung. You chuckled to yourself.. A DAY YOU WEREN'T EXPECTING.. ⎯ It's been 7 months ever since you met Heeseung.. surprising isn't it? it's just like you met him 7 days ago. Your parent's took you to a location, you could describe it as magical.. enchanting.. romantic? You then closed the passenger's seat as you walk to the fairy lights and ribbons that you could see from afar.. you saw Heeseung in a suit. And his Parents right beside him, you widened your eyes because you were just in your sweats and a hoodie. Should've tooken your parent's advice in wearing something presentable.. but anywho at least it's someone your comfortable with.. Heeseung smiled as he saw you walking slowly to him.

You were confused yes.. but mostly you were taken aback about how much effort they put into making this place that magical and enchanting for it to be. "I'm just going to speed up to the good part.. L/n.. Y/n, these past few months have truly been something.. very fun.. very clumsy.. and the best part was.. I got to fall inlove with you during those 7 months. Which leads me to ask you something.. Will you Marry me? Not just for the business?" He said kneeling down to open a small box with something engraved inside the box, 'Promise me you will have that same laugh.' You started tearing up, and you said.. "Yes."

[mindmeltonabun-blog]

Doom At Your Service: Analysis & Theories for EPs 7-8

Welcome back to another edition of analyses and theories time with me! I’m going to try and keep this post as short and as simple as possible. In case I don’t, I apologize in advance! Also, sorry if this post is filled with grammar mistakes and confusing syntax...I'm writing/editing this late at night and my ADHD meds have lost their effectiveness.

Anyways Eps 7-8 was pretty awesome and I’m glad that a bunch of my previous theories had come true! For those who wonder how I come up with some of these theories, I just look at everything whether it be big or small. I also try to look for connections and patterns. At the same time, I try to understand the motivations of characters and what is the big picture the writer is trying to paint. Once you're able to do all of that then you can predict where the story is going. This is how for the most part I was able to predict the events and endings of shows like TOTNT and TKEM. Anyhow, let’s get down to analyzing and theorizing! Turn on those thinking caps!

What the Rock Balancing Structure Represents

Rock balancing is a form of art that involves a person placing a combination of rocks in an arrangement. To achieve balance of the rocks, one must be very patient and compassionate. In its completion, the structure represents that while things may appear impossible, they are actually possible. So what seems impossible, but can actually be possible? Hmmm probably Myul Mang learning what it means to be human and ending up becoming human. Notice that both the rock art is next to the plant and the story of Pinocchio? It's saying saying that the impossible can be possible. It's possible for Myul Mang to be able to learn what it means to be a human so that the impossible can happen...he can "grow" up to becoming a real human.

The whole rock balancing structure could also signify that in order to grow, one must overcome one's deepest fears. I don't know about you all, but stacking rocks is a scary thing especially since at any moment the whole thing could fall over. Anyways, if you remembered, Myul Mang had been searching everywhere for Dong Kyung and feeling like one of his worst fears (Dong Kyung not existing) had came true. It's only when he goes to Dora's hospital room and sees both the Pinocchio book and rock structure that he got Dora's lesson. And that's why afterwards you didn't see Myul Mang going on another search for Dong Kyung somewhere else.

A brief digression. I’ve seen multiple people theorizing that the plant and the butterfly represent Dong Kyung and Myul Mang respectively. To them I say, did you just completely miss the part where Dora says the plant is Myul Mang? Myul Mang is both the butterfly and the plant. For those who still don’t see that, let me break it down.

First, what do butterflies symbolize? They symbolize metamorphosis, death, and rebirth. Myul Mang is not a literal butterfly, but he will eventually be one in a metaphorical sense. If anything, Myul Mang right now is like a caterpillar on the verge of entering the cocoon stage that is followed by a reemergence as a butterfly aka human. You can also look at it this way, Pinocchio is a butterfly too. Why? Well, look at what happens to Pinocchio. He is reborn as a real boy after having gone through metamorphosis (puppet -> real boy).

Now let’s examine the plant symbolism. What do plants represent in DAYS? They represent humans. What is Dora growing? A human Myul Mang..DUH!! Sorry, but I didn’t think it was that hard of a concept to grasp especially since Dora has already explicitly said what she is growing in that one scene. For Myul Mang to grow up to become a "good" human, he needs to learn to think about others, forgive himself, be compassionate (not only towards himself, but others as well), love others, etc. Other things Myul Mang would probably need to learn is how to love his fate or amor fati (loving your fate means loving it all, not just the good parts, but the bad parts too; loving it so much so that you would never want to change anything about it and would gladly relive your life the way it was over and over again for all of eternity).

I don’t think the "plant" will fully "blossom" until Myul Mang sacrifices himself to save Dong Kyung for the sole reason that he loves her (in contrast to sacrificing himself for his own personal gain). Therefore, that's probably the final lesson -- how to be completely selfless.

Dora just wants her son to grow up to be a "good" plant (human) so she doesn't have to end up pulling him out aka end him before he even becomes human! Okay???

Sorry if what I've just said was confusing. What I meant to say is that Myul Mang's personal growth is reflective in the plant's growth. The more he learns of what it means to be a "good" human, the more the plant will grow until it blossoms into a beautiful flower (a real human).

If we want to connect the idea of personal growth to the story of Pinocchio, we see that Pinocchio's growth occurs only after he experiences pain (physical and emotional) and love. From these experiences, he learns what it means to be a "good" boy and is rewarded by the Fairy transforming him into a real boy.

One Wish or Wishes?

In my previous post, I had briefly touched upon how I think Dong Kyung is going to wish for brain cancer to be cured. Though I still think this, I nevertheless want to explore some of the other possibilities of what her wish could be.

Potential Wishes:

1) Myul Mang to Become Human

2) More Wishes

3) Contract to be Voided

4) No One Remembering Her After She Dies

For #1, Dong Kyung wishes Myul Mang to become human, but then she still dies from her untreated brain cancer…so nope. For #2 and #3, are these wishes even allowed? I would like to point out some flaws of the writer. Maybe it’s not so much a flaw, but an annoyance I have with the writer of DAYS. What one can or cannot wish for is not explicitly stated. Due to this, it is somewhat difficult for me to accurately predict what Dong Kyung will wish for. It’s like trying to detect a substance without being given its upper and lower limits or range of detection (sorry for the science related analogy) ! For #4, I guess this one could be probable, but there is just too much evidence pointing to Myul Mang's death. After exploring each of the possibilities, I'm still left thinking that Dong Kyung's one wish will be to cure her cancer.

Anyways, even if Dong Kyung wishes for her brain cancer to be cured, it’s not really a happy ending since Myul Mang still dies. Is there any other way for Dong Kyung to make another wish so that she can save Myul Mang? I think there is and it comes in the form of the “gift” that Dora gave Dong Kyung. In my previous post, I had theorized that the marble may have a larger purpose than just being a symbol of how the fate of the world is Dong Kyung hands. I believe now that the marble’s larger purpose is that it is a type of wish fulfilling stone. Why? Because we know fantasy dramas typically make references to mythology. In this case, the writer of DAYS is probably referencing Hindu mythology.

In Hindu mythology there are 3 main gods:

1) Brahma: The Creator

2) Vishnu: The Preserver

3) Shiva: The Destroyer (Sounds like Myul Mang right? Also, the love story between Shiva and Parvati is somewhat similar to that of Myul Mang and Dong Kyung’s love story.)

Dora is the equivalent to the god Vishnu in Hindu mythology. Vishnu is often depicted wearing a “Cintamani”, a type of wish fulling stone analogous to the Philosopher’s Stone (hint hint…transforms something from one form into another…immortal -> human) in Western mythology. Given this, the marble/Cintamani in Dong Kyung's possession could be the key to Myul Mang’s rebirth.

Some might ask, “Well why can’t Dora just use it to wish for her son to be reborn as a human?”. Well, remember that both Dora and Myul Mang are slaves to the wishes of humans. They themselves cannot fulfil their own wishes or desires. Meaning, even though Dora and Myul Mang can wish for something to happen, they cannot carry it out unless humans wish it too. Also, as I mentioned previously, deities in kdramas never just give humans gift because they’re being nice. Rather, they give gifts to humans so that humans can help them accomplish their overall goals/wishes.

So putting it all together, do you see where I’m going with this? Dora has the same wish as Dong Kyung which is for Myul Mang to live, but Dora is unable to execute her goals/wishes unless Dong Kyung wishes it too. Dora knows that Dong Kyung will probably use her one wish to cure her brain cancer. At the same time, this leaves her son, Myul Mang, to die. Therefore, Dora gives Dong Kyung the wish fulfilling marble with the intention that Dong Kyung will use it to wish for her son, Myul Mang, to be reborn as a human. With Dora/Dong Kyung’s wish, Myul Mang will be free from his cursed life as an immortal and be reborn to be able to live happily with Dong Kyung.

Side note, the rebirth of Myul Mang into a human can either be dependent on Myul Mang's personal growth or it can be dependent on this wish fulfilling stone or both! I'm leaning more towards his personal growth as being the catalyst for his rebirth, but who knows! It very well could be that the marble has a role to play in his rebirth.

Is Dong Kyung Going To Be An Immortal?

No…no…and NO!!

Some might ask why don’t I think this? Well, for a bunch of reasons. I’ll admit I used to think that it would be very romantic for a human to become immortal so that they can be with their immortal lover forever. However, the more I thought about it, I came to the realization the notion of forever is not romantic nor beautiful. At its core, the concept of eternity is quite terrifying and ugly. And if you haven’t realized already, the writer of DAYS has been making multiple arguments against immortality. For anything to have meaning, it must have an end. In this sense, the end is beautiful.

To get my point across, I want you to try and think about some things. What keeps life meaningful? Experiences? People? Well, imagine doing something you love for a year. Now imagine doing it for trillions or zillions of years. Experiences no matter how good they are at first will eventually become tedious if you do it for long enough. For example, eating your favorite dish may be good for a while, but not for zillions of years. At one point or another, you ultimately lose your desire to want to eat it or eat entirely for that matter.

Now surely getting to know people and loving them can keep your life meaningful right? Well, how many times do you think you could handle knowing and loving people who eventually disappear? Eventually, you grow tired of crying and mourning over dead loved ones that you become numb. Now imagine being Dong Kyung. She would have to witness her family, their family, and so forth dying over and over again for all of eternity. Doesn’t that seem tortuous? Sure, one could argue that at least she has Myul Mang with her, but do you really think her love for him could sustain her forever? The relationship between Myul Mang and his mother, Dora, is a prime example of how a loving relationship could turn sour over a great deal of time. The gift of immorality Dora bestowed on Myul Mang became a curse instead of a blessing. So why would Myul Mang want to give Dong Kyung something that was basically a curse for him? As for Dora, she probably wouldn’t want to give Dong Kyung the same gift after seeing what it did to her son.

If you continue to think that Dong Kyung will become an immortal being, did you really smell what the writer of DAYS was cooking or did you just smell what you were cooking?

The Bad Case of the Riddles

From what I have been reading on multiple platforms now, it would seem that a lot of people are rather confused about a lot of things. It’s understandable! Throughout the show, the writer has presented some complex philosophical concepts that may be difficult for some viewers to grasp. To further add to the confusion, the characters at times do speak in what appears to be riddles. This I believe may be one of the major flaws of the writer. She has to consider that her audience are probably people who have never read any philosophical works before. Most viewers aren’t here to decipher cryptic messages or see how they’re connected to some major philosophical concepts such as eternal recurrence, existentialism, nihilism, amor fati, etc. Most are here to shut off their tired brain and enjoy some good fantasy romance! I know I’m totally one of those people!

Needless to say, I did find myself in a debate of whether I should discuss some philosophical concepts referenced in the show as to help you all gain a better sense of understanding. However, I concluded that it would take too much of my time to do so. Additionally, despite my best efforts to use the simplest of words, I found that whatever I had already written may have still been confusing to the everyday reader. Anyways, if there are any particular scenes or dialogue you all want to me go over, please feel free to use the ask button and I’ll do my best to try and answer them!

Whats Going to Happen Next?

Probably more filler type stuff aka more bs. It's common in kdramas for characters to go back and forth on their initial decision of whatever. Dong Kyung is going to break up with Myul Mang because she loves him and doesn't want him to die. And before the breakup, she's going to give him some good memories to remember her by. Following this, she's going to try and love herself so that she's the one that ends up dying and her wish is going to be for everyone to forget her? Okay......Zzzzzzz!! Idk... Dora is probably going to intervene somehow to get Dong Kyung and Myul Mang back together again.

Other Random Thoughts

What I think would be interesting to learn about is the connection between Dong Kyung's parents death and Dora past self's death. It wasn't just all a coincidence that they both died on the same day. Who knows... maybe Dong Kyung was meant to be in the car that day with her parents, but Dora's past self sacrificed herself to change Dong Kyung's fate.

Also, I still don't think Dong Kyung is going to die, I mean you got her brother praying to the deities that she lives!

Okay, I'm done. I wrote this in Microsoft Word and it was 5 pages long. My brain is dead. There's probably something I should've gone over or elaborated more about, but oh well. Thanks for reading this disjointed post!

[itsclydebitches]

Enola Holmes: A Not So Elementary Adaptation

It's cliché and a bit unfair to say that the book was better than the film, but I'm afraid that's precisely where I need to start. Nancy Springer's Enola Holmes: The Case of the Missing Marquess is leagues better than Netflix's adaptation of it. They did her work dirty and to say that I'm shocked at the accolades other reviewers are heaping on the film is an understatement. Before I dive into any critiques though, it's worth acknowledging that not every minute of the two hour film was painful to get through. So what worked in Enola Holmes?

The film is carried by the talent of its cast, Millie Bobby Brown being the obvious heavy-hitter. She helps breathe life into a pretty terrible script and it's only a shame her talent is wasted on such a subpar character.

The idea to have Enola continually break the fourth wall, though edging into the realm of Dora the Explorer at times—"Do you have any ideas?"— was nevertheless a fun way to keep the audience looped into her thought process. Young viewers in particular might enjoy it as a way to make them feel like a part of the action and older viewers will note the Fleabag influence. 

The cinematography is, perhaps, where most of my praise lies. The rapid cuts between past and present, rewinding as Enola thinks back to some pertinent detail, visualizing the cyphers with close ups on the letter tiles—all of it gave the film an upbeat, entertaining flair that almost made up for how bloated and meandering the plot was.

We got an equally upbeat soundtrack that helped to sell the action. 

The overall experience was... fine. In the way a cobbled together, candy-coated, meant to be seen on a Friday night but we watched it Wednesday and then promptly forgot about it film is fine. I doubt Enola Holmes will be winning any awards, but it was a decently entertaining romp and really, does a Netflix film need to be anything more? If Enola was her own thing made entirely by Netflix's hands I wouldn't be writing this review. As it stands though, Enola is both an adaptation and the latest addition to one of the world’s most popular franchises. That's where the film fails: not as a fun diversion to take your mind off Covid-19, but as an adaptation of Springer's work and as a Sherlock Holmes story.

In short, Enola Holmes, though pretty to look at and entertaining in a predictable manner, still fails in five crucial areas: 

1. Mycroft is Now a Mustache-Twirling Villain and Sherlock is No Longer Sherlock Holmes

This aspect is the least egregious because admittedly the film didn't pull this version of Mycroft out of thin air. As the head of the household he is indeed Enola's primary antagonist (outside of some kidnappers) and though he insists that he's doing all this for Enola's own good, he does get downright cruel at times:

He rolled his eyes. “Just like her mother,” he declared to the ceiling, and then he fixed upon me a stare so martyred, so condescending, that I froze rigid. In tones of sweetest reason he told me, “Enola, legally I hold complete charge over both your mother and you. I can, if I wish, lock you in your room until you become sensible, or take whatever other measures are necessary in order to achieve that desired result... You will do as I say" (Springer 69).

Mycroft's part is clear. He's the white, rich, powerful, able-bodied man who benefits from society's structure and thus would never think to change it. He does legally have charge over both Enola and Eudoria. He can do whatever he pleases to make them "sensible"... and that right there is the horror of it. Mycroft is a law-abiding man whose antagonism stems from doing precisely what he's allowed to do in a broken world. There are certainly elements of this in the Netflix adaptation, but that antagonism becomes so exaggerated that it's nearly laughable. Enola's governess (appointed by Mycroft) slaps her across the face the moment she speaks up. Mycroft screams at her in a carriage until she's cowering against the window. He takes her and throws her into a boarding school where everything is bleak and all the women dutifully follow instructions like hypnotized dolls. Enola Holmes ensures that we've lost all of Springer's nuance, notably the criticism of otherwise decent people who fall into the trap of doing the "right" (read: expected) thing. Despite her desire for freedom, in the novel Enola quickly realizes that she is not immune to society's standards:

"I thought he was younger.” Much younger, in his curled tresses and storybook suit. Twelve! Why, the boy should be wearing a sturdy woollen jacket and knickers, an Eton collar with a tie, and a decent manly haircut—

Thoughts, I realised, all too similar to those of my brother Sherlock upon meeting me (113-14).

She is precisely like her brothers, judging a boy for not looking and acting enough like a man just as they judged her for not looking and acting enough like a lady. The difference is that Enola has chaffed enough against those expectations to realize when she's falling prey to them, but the sympathetic link to her brothers remains. In the film, however, the conflict is no longer driven by fallible people doing what they think is best. Rather, it's made clear (in no uncertain terms) that these are just objectively bad people. Only villains hit someone like that. Only villains will scream at the top of their lungs until a young girl cries. Only villains roll their eyes at women's rights (a subplot that never existed in the novel). Springer writes Mycroft as a person, Netflix writes him as a cartoon, and the result is the loss of a nuanced message about what it means to enact change in a complicated world.  

Which leaves us with Sherlock. Note that in the above passage he is the one who casts harsh judgement on Enola's outfit. Originally Mycroft took an interest in making Enola "sensible" and Sherlock— in true Holmes fashion—straddles a fine line between comfort and insult:

"Mycroft,” Sherlock intervened, “the girl's head, you'll observe, is rather small in proportion to her remarkably tall body. Let her alone. There is no use confusing and upsetting her when you'll find out for yourself soon enough'" (38).

***

"Could mean that she left impulsively and in haste, or it could reflect the innate untidiness of a woman's mind,” interrupted Sherlock. “Of what use is reason when it comes to the dealings of a woman, and very likely one in her dotage?" (43).

A large part of Enola's drive stems from proving to Sherlock, the world, and even herself that a small head does not mean lack of intelligence. His insults, couched in a misguided attempt to sooth, is what makes Sherlock a complex character and his broader sexism is what makes him a flawed character, not Superman in a tweed suit. Yet in the film Mycroft becomes the villain and Sherlock is his good brother foil. Rather than needing to acknowledge that Enola has a knack for deduction by reading the excellent questions she's asked about the case—because why give your characters any development?—he already adores and has complete faith in her, laughing that he too likes to draw caricatures to think. By the tree Sherlock remanences fondly about Enola's childhood where she demonstrated appropriately quirky preferences for a genius, things like not wearing trousers and keeping a pinecone for a pet. They have a clear connection that Mycroft could never understand, one based both in deduction and, it seems, being a halfway decent human being. We are told that Enola has Sherlock's wits, but poor Mycroft lucked out, despite the fact that up until this point the film has done nothing to demonstrate this supposed intelligence. (To say nothing of how canonically Mycroft's intellect rivals his brother's.) Enola falls to her knees and begs for Sherlock's help, saying that "For [Mycroft] I'm a nuisance, to you—" implying that they have a deep bond despite not having seen one another since Enola was a toddler. Indeed, at one point Enola challenges Lestrade to a Sherlock quiz filled with information presumably not found in the newspaper clippings she's saved of him, which begs the question of how she knows her brother so well when she hasn't seen him in a decade and he, in turn, walked right by her with no recognition. Truthfully, Lestrade should know Sherlock better. Through all this the sibling bond is used as a heavy-handed insistence that Enola is Sherlock's protégé, him leaving her with the advice that "Those kinds of mysteries are always the best to unpick” and straight up asking at one point if she’s solved the case. The plot has Enola gearing up to outwit her genius brother, which did not happen in the novel and is precisely why I loved it. Enola isn't out to be a master of deduction in her teens, she's a finder of lost people who uses a similar, but ultimately unique set of skills. She does things Sherlock can't because she is isn't Sherlock. They're not in competition, they're peers, yet the film fails to understand that, using Sherlock's good brother bonding to emphasize Enola's place as his protégé turned superior. He exists, peppered throughout the film, so that she can surpass him in the end. 

You know what happens in the novel? Sherlock walks away from her, dismissive, and that's that.

That's also Sherlock Holmes. I won't bore you with complaints about Cavill being too handsome and Claflin being too thin for their respective parts, but I will draw the line at complete character assassination. Part of Sherlock's charm is that he's far more compassionate than he first appears, but that doesn't mean he would, at the drop of a telegram, become a doting older brother to a sister of all things. Despite the absurdity of the Doyle Estate's lawsuit against Netflix for making Sherlock an emotional man who respects women... they're right that this isn't their character. Oh, Sherlock is emotive, but it's in the form of excited exclamations over clues, or the occasional warm word towards Watson—someone he has known and lived with for many years. Sherlock respects women, though it's through those societal expectations. He'll offer them a seat, an ear, a handkerchief if they need one, and always the promise of help, but he then dismisses them with, "The fairer sex is your department, Watson." Springer successfully wrote Sherlock Holmes with a little sister, a man who will bark out a laugh at her caricature but still leave her to Mycroft's whims because he has his own life to tend to. This is a man who insists that the mind of a woman is inscrutable and thus must grapple with his shock at Enola's ability to cover the "salient points" of the case (58). Cavill's Sherlock is no Sherlock at all and though there's nothing wrong with updating a character for a modern audience (see: Elementary), I do question why Netflix strayed so far from Springer's work. The novel is, after all, their blueprint. She already managed the difficult task of writing an in-character Sherlock Holmes who remains approachable to both a modern audience and Enola herself, yet for some reason Netflix tossed that work aside.  

2. Enola is "Special,” Not At All Like Other Girls 

Allow me to paint you a picture. Enola Holmes is an empathetic, fourteen-year-old girl who, while bright, does not possess an intelligence worthy of note. No one is gasping as she deduces seemingly impossible things from the age of four, or admiring her knowledge of some obscure, appropriately impressive topic. Rather, Enola is a fairly normal girl with an abnormal upbringing, characterized by her patience and willingness to work. Deciphering the many hiding places where her mother stashed cash takes her weeks, requiring that Enola work through the night in secrecy while maintaining appearances during the day. She manages to hatch a plan of escape that demonstrates the thought she's put into it without testing the reader's suspension of disbelief. More than that, she uses the feminine tools at her disposal to give herself an edge: hiding her face behind a widow's veil and storing luggage in the bustle of her dress. Upon achieving freedom, her understanding of another lonely boy leads her to try and help him, resulting in a dangerous kidnapping wherein Enola acts as most fourteen-year-olds would, scared out of her mind with a few moments of bravery born of pure survival instinct. She and Tewksbury escape together, as friends, before Enola sets out on becoming the first scientific perditorian, a finder of lost people.

Sadly, this new Enola shares little resemblance with her novel counterpart. What Netflix seemingly fails to understand is that giving a character flaws makes them relatable and that someone who looks more like us is someone we can connect with. This Enola, simply put, is extraordinary. She's read all the books in the library, knows science, tennis, painting, archery, and a deadly form of Jujitsu (more on that below). In the novel Enola bemoans that she was never particularly good at cyphers and now must improve if she has any hope of reading what her mother left her. In the film she simply knows the answers, near instantaneously. Enola masters her travels, her disguises, and her deductions, all with barely a hitch. Though Enola doesn't have impressive detective skills yet, her memory is apparently photographic, allowing her to look back on a single glance into a room, years ago, and untangle precisely what her mother was planning. It's a BBC Sherlock-esque form of 'deduction' wherein there's no real thought involved, just an innate ability to recall a newspaper across the room with perfect clarity. The one thing Enola can't do well is ride a bike which, considering that in the novel she quite enjoys the activity, feels like a tacked on "flaw" that the film never has to have her grapple with.

More than simply expanding upon her skillset—because let’s be real, it’s not like Sherlock himself doesn’t have an impressive list of accomplishments. Even if Enola’s feelings of inadequacy are part of the point Springer was working to make—the film changes the core of her personality. I cannot stress enough that Enola is a sheltered fourteen-year-old who is devastated by the disappearance of her mother and terrified by the new world she's entered. That fear, uncertainty, and the numerous mistakes that come out of it is what allowed me to connect with Enola and go, "Yeah. I can see myself in her." Meanwhile, this new Enola is overwhelmingly confident, to the point where I felt like I was watching a child's fantasy of a strong woman rather than one who actually demonstrates strength by overcoming challenges. For example, contrast her meeting with Sherlock and Mycroft on the train platform with what we got in the film:

"And to my annoyance, I found myself trembling as I hopped off my bicycle. A strip of lace from my pantalets, confounded flimsy things, caught on the chain, tore loose, and dangled over my left boot.

Trying to tuck it up, I dropped my shawl.

This would not do. Taking a deep breath, leaving my shawl on my bicycle and my bicycle leaning against the station wall, I straightened and approached the two Londoners, not quite succeeding in holding my head high" (31-32).

***

"Well, if they did not desire the pleasure of my conversation, it was a good thing, as I stood mute and stupid... 'I don't know where she's gone,' I said, and to my own surprise—for I had not wept until that moment—I burst into tears" (34).

I'd ask where this frightened, fumbling Enola has gone, but it's clear that she never existed in the script to begin with. The film is chock-full of her being, to be frank, a badass. She gleefully beats up the bad guys in perfect form, no, "I froze, cowering, like a rabbit in a thicket" (164). This Enola always gets the last word in and never falters in her confident demeanor, no, "I wish I could say I swept with cold dignity out of the room, but the truth is, I tripped over my skirt and stumbled up the stairs" (70). Enola is the one, special girl in an entire school who can see how rigid and horrible these social expectations are, straining against them while all her lesser peers roll their eyes. That's how she's characterized: as "special," right from the get-go, and that eliminates any growth she might have experienced over the course of the film. More than that, it feels like a slap in the face to Springer's otherwise likeable, well-rounded character.

3. A Focus on Hollywood Action and Those Strong Female Characters

It never fails to amaze me how often Sherlock Holmes adaptations fail to remember that he is, at his core, an intellectual. Sure, there's the occasional story where Sherlock puts his boxing or singlestick skills to good use, and he did survive his encounter with Moriarty thanks to his own martial arts, but these moments are rarities across the canon. Pick up any Sherlock Holmes story, open to a random page, and you will find him sitting fireside to mule over a case, donning a disguise to observe the suspects, or combing through his many papers to find that one, necessary scrap of information. Sherlock Holmes is about deduction, a series of observations and conclusions based on logic. He's not an action hero. Nor is Enola, yet Netflix seems to be under the impression that no audience can survive a two hour film without something exploding.

I'd like to present a concise list of things that happened in the film that were, in my opinion, unnecessary:

Enola and Tewksbury throw themselves out of a moving train to miraculously land unharmed on the grass below.

Enola uses the science knowledge her mother gave her to ignite a whole room of gunpowder and explosives, resulting in a spectacle that somehow doesn't kill her pursuer.

Enola engages in a long shootout with her attacker, Tewksbury takes a shot straight to the chest, but survives because of a breastplate he only had a few seconds to put on and hide beneath his shirt. Then Enola succeeds in killing Burn Gorman's slimy character.

Enola beats up her attackers many, many times.

This right here is the worst change to her character. Enola is, plainly put, a "strong woman." Literally. She was trained from a young age to kick ass and now that's precisely what she'll do. Gone is the unprepared but brave girl who heads out onto the dangerous London streets in the hope of helping her mother and a young boy. What does this Enola have to fear? There's only one martial arts move she hasn't mastered yet and, don't worry, she gets it by the end of the film. Enola suffers from the Hollywood belief that strong women are defined solely as physically capable women and though there's nothing wrong with that on the surface, the archetype has become so prevalent that any deviation is seen as too weak—too princess-y—to be considered feminist. If you're not kicking ass and taking names then you can only be passive, right? Stuck in a tower somewhere and awaiting your prince. But what about me? I have no ability to flip someone over my shoulder and throw them into a wall. What about pacifists? What about the disabled? By continually claiming that this is what a "strong" woman looks like you eliminate a huge number of women from this pool. The women we are meant to uphold in this film—Enola, her Mother, and her Mother's friend from the teahouse—are all fighters of the physical variety, whereas the bad women like Mrs. Harris and her pupils are too cultured for self-defense. They're too feminine to be feminist. But feminism isn't about your ability to throw a punch.  Enola's success now derives from being the most talented and the most violent in the room, rather than the most determined, smart, and empathetic. She threatens people and lunges at them, reminding others that she's perfectly capable of tying up a guy is she so chooses because "I know Jujitsu." Enola possesses a power that is just as fantastical as kissing a frog into a prince. In sixteen short years she has achieved what no real life woman ever will: the ability to go wherever she pleases and do whatever she wants without the threat of violence. Because Enola is the violence. While her attacker is attempting to drown her with somewhat horrific realism, Enola takes the time to wink at the audience before rearing back and bloodying his nose. After all, why would you think she was in any danger? Masters of Jujitsu with an uncanny ability to dodge bullets don't have anything to fear... unlike every woman watching this film.

It's certainly some kind of wish fulfillment, a fantasy to indulge in, but I personally preferred the original Enola who never had any Hollywood skills at her disposal yet still managed to come out on top. That's a character I can see myself in and want to see myself in given that the concept of non-violent strength is continually pushed to the wayside. Not to mention... that's a Sherlock Holmes story. Coming out on top through intellect and bravery alone is the entire point of the genre, so why Netflix felt the need to turn Enola into an action hero is beyond me.  

4. Aging Up the Protagonists (and Giving Them an Eye-Rolling Romance)

The choice to age up our heroes is, arguably, the worst decision here. In the original novel Enola has just turned fourteen and Tewksbury is a child, twelve-years-old, though he looks even younger. It's a story for a younger audience staring appropriately young heroes, with the protagonists' status as children crucial to one of the overarching themes of the story: what does it really mean to strike out on your own and when are you ready for it? Adding two years to Enola's age is something I'm perfectly fine with. After all, the difference between fourteen and sixteen isn't that great and Brown herself is sixteen until February of 2021, so why not aim for realism and make her character the same? That's all reasonable and this is, indeed, an adaptation. No need to adhere to every detail of the text. What puzzles me though is why in the world they would take a terrified, sassy, compassionate twelve-year-old and turn him into a bumbling seventeen-year-old instead?

Ah yes. The romance.

In the same way that I fail to understand the assumption that a film needs over-the-top action to be entertaining, I likewise fail to understand the assumption that it needs a romance—and a heterosexual one to boot. There's something incredibly discomforting in watching a film that so loudly proclaim itself as feminist, yet it takes the strong friendship between two children and turns it into an incredibly awkward, hetero True Love story. Remember when Enola loudly proclaims that she doesn't want a husband? The film didn't, because an hour later she's stroking her hand over Tewksbury's while twirling her hair. Which isn't to say that women can't fall in love, or change their minds, just that it's disheartening to see a supposedly feminist film so completely fall into one of the biggest expectations for women, even today. Forget Enola running up to men and paying them for their clothes as an expression of freedom, is anyone going to acknowledge that narratively she’s still stuck living the life the men around her want? Find yourself a husband, Enola. The heavy implication is she did, just with Jujitsu rather than embroidery. Different method, same message, and that’s incredibly frustrating when this didn’t exist in the original story. “It's about freedom!” the film insists. So why didn't you give Enola the freedom to have a platonic adventure? 

It's not even a good romance. Rather painful, really. When Tewksbury, after meeting her just once before, passionately says "I don't want to leave you, Enola" because her company is apparently more important than him staying alive, I literally laughed out loud. It's ridiculous and it's ridiculously precisely because it was shoe-horned into a story that didn't need it. More than simply saddling Enola with a bland love interest though, this leads to a number of unfortunate changes in the story's plot, both unnecessary additions and disappointing exclusions. Enola no longer meets Tewksbury after they've both been kidnapped (him for ransom and her for snooping into his case), but rather watches him cut himself out of a carpetbag on the train. I hope I don't have to explain which of these scenarios is more likely and, thus, more satisfying. Meeting Tewksbury on the train means that Enola gets to have a nighttime chat with him about precisely why he ran away. Thus, when she goes to his estate she no longer needs to deduce his hiding spot based on her own desires to have a place of her own, she just needs to recall that a very big branch nearly fell on him and behold, there that branch is. (The fact that the branch is a would-be murder weapon makes its convenient placement all the more eye-rolling.) Rather than involving herself in the case out of empathy for the family, Enola loudly proclaims that she wants nothing to do with Tewksbury and only reluctantly gets involved when it's clear his life is on the line. And that right there is another issue. In the novel there is no murderous plot in an attempt to keep reform bills from passing. Tewksbury is a child who, like Enola, ran away and quickly discovers that life with an overbearing mother isn't so bad when you've experienced London's dangerous streets. That's the emotional blow: Enola has no mother to go home to anymore and must press out onto those streets whether she's ready for it or not.

Perhaps the only redeeming change is giving Tewksbury an interest in flowers instead of ships. Regardless of how overly simplistic the feminist message is, it is a nice touch to give the guy a traditionally feminine hobby while Enola sharpens her knife. The fact that Enola learned that from her mother and Tewksbury learned botany from his father feels like a nudge at a far better film than Enola Holmes managed to be. For every shining moment of insight—the constraints of gendered hobbies, a black working class woman informing Sherlock that he can never understand what it means to lack power—the film gives us twenty minutes worth of frustrating stupidity. Such as how Enola doesn't seem to conceive of escaping from boarding school until Tewksbury appears to rescue her. She then proceeds to get carried around in a basket for a few minutes before going out the window... which she could have done on her own at any point, locked doors or no. But it seems that narrative consistency isn't worth more than Enola (somehow) leaving a caricature of Mrs. Harris and Mycroft behind. The film is clearly trying to promote a "Rah, rah, go, women, go!" message, but fails to understand that having Enola find a way out of the school herself would be more emotionally fulfilling than having her send a generic 'You're mean' message after the two men in her life—Sherlock and Tewksbury—remind her that she can, in fact, take action.

Which brings me to my biggest criticism and what I would argue is the film's greatest flaw. Reviewers and fans alike are hailing Enola Holmes as a feminist masterpiece and yes, to a certain extent it is. Feminist, that is, not a masterpiece. (5) But it's a hollow feminism. A fantasy feminism. A simple, exaggerated feminism that came out of a Feminism 101 PowerPoint. To quote Sherlock, let's review the salient points:

A woman cannot be the star of her own film without having a male love interest, even if this goes against everything the original novel stood for.

A feminist woman cannot also be selfish. Instead she must have a selfless drive to change the world with bombs. 

The best kind of women are those who reject femininity as much as they can. They will wear boy's clothes whenever possible and snub their nose at something as useless as embroidery. Any woman who enjoys such skills or desires to become lady-like just hasn't realized the sort of prison she's in yet.

The best women also embody other masculine traits, like being able to take down men twice their size. Passive women will titter behind their hands. Active women will kick you in the balls. If you really want to be a strong woman, learn how to throw a decent punch.

Women are, above all, superior to men.

Yes, yes, I joke about it just as much as the next woman, but seeing it played fairly straight was a bit of an uncomfortable experience, even more-so during a gender revolution where stories like this leave trans, nonbinary, and genderqueer viewers out of the ideological loop. Enola goes on and on about what a "useless boy" Tewksbury is (though of course she must still be attracted to him) and her mother's teachings are filled with lessons about not listening to men. As established, Mycroft—and Lestrade—are the simplistically evil men Enola must circumvent, whereas Sherlock exists for her to gain victory over: "How did your sister get there first?" Enola supposedly has a strength that Tewksbury lacks— he's just "foolish"—and she shouts out such cringe-worthy lines as, "You're a man when I tell you you're a man!"

I get the message, I really do. As a teenager I probably would have loved it, but now I have to ask: aren't we past the image of men-hating feminists? Granted, the film never goes quite that far, but it gets close. We’ve got one woman who is ready to start blowing things up to achieve equality and another who revels in looking down on the men in her life. That’s been the framing for years, that feminists are cruel, dangerous people and Tewksbury making heart-eyes at Enola doesn’t instantly fix the echoes of that. There's a certain amount of justification for both characterizations—we have reached points in history where peaceful protests are no longer enough and Tewksbury is indeed a fool at times—but that nuance is entirely lost among the film's overall message of "Women rule, men drool." It feels like there’s a smart film hidden somewhere between the grandmother murdering to keep the status quo and Enola’s mother bombing for change, that balance existing in Enola herself who does the most for women by protecting Tewkesbury... but Enola Holmes is too busy juggling all the different films it wants to be to really hit on that message. It certainly doesn’t have time to say anything worthwhile about the fight it’s using as a backdrop. Enola gasps that "Mycroft is right. You are dangerous" when she finds her mother's bombs, but does she ever grapple with whether she supports violence on a large scale in the name of creating a better world? Does she work through this sudden revelation that she agrees with Mycroft about something crucial? Of course not. Enola just hugs her mom, asks Sherlock not to go after her, and the film leaves it at that. 

The takeaway is less one of empowerment and more, ironically, of restriction. You can fight, but only via bombs and punches. It's okay to be a woman, provided you don't like too many feminine things. You can save the day, so long as there's a man at your side poised to marry you in the future. I felt like I was watching a pre-2000s script where "equality" means embracing the idea that you're "not like other girls" so that men will finally take you seriously. Because then you don't really feel like a woman to them anymore, do you? You're a martial arts loving, trouser-wearing, loud and brilliant individual who just happens to have long hair. You’re unique and, therefore, worthy of attention, unlike all those other girls.

That's some women's experiences, but far from all, and crucially I don't think this is the woman that Springer wrote in her novel. 

The Case of the Missing Marquess is a feminist book. It gives us a flawed, brave, intelligent woman who sets out to help people and achieves just that, mostly through her own strength, but also with some help from the young boy she befriends. Her brothers are privileged, misguided men who she nevertheless cares for deeply and her mother finally puts herself first, leaving Enola to go and live with the Romani people. Everyone in Springer's book feels human, the women especially. Enola gets to tremble her way through scary decisions while still remaining brave. Her mother gets to be selfish while still remaining loving. They're far more than just women blessed with extraordinary talents who will take what they want by force. Springer's women? They don't have that Hollywood glamour. They're pretty ordinary, actually, despite the surface quirks. They’re like us and thus they must make use of what tools they have in order to change their own situations as well as the world. The fact that they still succeed feels very feminist to me, far more-so than granting your character the ability to flip a man into the ground and calling it a day.  

Know that I watched Enola Holmes with a friend over Netflix Party and the repeated comment from us both was, "I'd rather be watching The Great Mouse Detective." Enola Holmes is by no means a horrible film. It has beauty, comedy, and a whole lot of heart, but it could have been leagues better given its source material and the talent of its cast. It’s a film that tries to do too much without having a firm grasp of its own message and, as a result, becomes a film mostly about missed potential. Which leads me right back to where I began: The book is better. Go read the book.

Images

Enola Holmes

Mycroft Holmes

Sherlock Holmes

Enola and her Mother Doing Archery

Enola and her Mother Fighting

Tewkesbury and Enola

[cogneartive]

The Beach Boys go to the Museum

A crackfic. Read if you want to immediately lose all your brain cells.

---

    Once upon a time, Brian Wilson was daydreaming about girls going to the museum which was very educational. More educational than daydreaming about girls which is good for you which is why he was daydreaming about going to the museum instead of girls. 

    “Yoo hoo brothers!” he said. 

    “What is it, big brother?” shouted Dennis and Carl Wilson from another part of the Beach Boys ResidenceTM

    “I have decided to go to the museum which is a very educational activity for us to do which will be beneficial for us,” said Brian. “I will call our cousin, Michael Edward Love, and our friend, Alan Charles Jardine.”

    “Oh ok, big brother,” the two younger Wilsons said. “As soon as we get out of the shower and clothe ourselves (which will probably align with the arrival of our cousin, Michael Edward Love, and our friend, Alan Charles Jardine), we shall take off in the Beach Boy MobileTM to go to the museum as you wish.”

T I M E S K I P

    “Incredible,” said Carl Wilson. “We have finished showering and being clothed just as our cousin, Michael Edward Love, and our friend, Alan Charles Jardine, have arrived.”

    “Now we can go to the  Beach Boy MobileTM to go to the museum Brian Wilson, my big brother, wishes.”     “I hate this story,” said Michael Edward Love, a man with no taste.

“Do not attempt to break the fourth wall,” said Brian Douglas Wilson, extremely annoyed at Mike Love’s lack of taste.

“Harrumph >:( !” harrumped Michael Edward Love.

Suddenly, Bruce Arthur Johnston appeared out of Norway. “May I come too?”

“Permission accepted,” said Al Jardine

T I M E S K I P

    The beach boys arrived at the Museum of Interesting Plot which interested them very much. They headed into the museum, where they bumped into GASP! The Beatles - an English rock band formed in Liverpool in 1960 with a line-up comprising John Lennon, Paul McCartney, George Harrison and Ringo Starr, who are regarded as the most influential band of all time. 

    “THE BEACH BOYS!” the bug boys ejected.

    “THE BEATLES!” the sand children exclaimed.

    “What a coincidence that we have bumped into you guys in the exact same museum,” said John Lennon. “I bet you were trying to sneak behind us and steal our songwriting ideas >:O”

    “Absolutely not >:O” said Brian Wilson, putting his hands on his hip in a gesture of frustration. “I bet YOU were trying to sneak behind us and steal OUR songwriting ideas”

    “We were not >:O” said Sir James Paul McCartney.

    They started fighting and in the moment of anger, they broke!! The statue of David (not Crosby unfortunately for the statue of David Crosby has cursed the museum for over a century now)!!!!!!!

    “HEY” said The Manager of The Museum (which was an unfortunate name given to him by his parents sad emoji)

    “Oh no” said Brian Wilson.

“Oh no” said Carl Wilson.

“Oh no” said Dennis Wilson.

“Oh no” said Mike Love.

“Oh no” said Al Jardine.

“Oh no” said Bruce Johnston.

“Oh no” said George Harrison.

“Oh no” said Paul McCartney.

“Oh no” said Ringo Starr

“Yoko Ono?” said John Lennon. “My wife in the future, depending on the era.”

“OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH NNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!” THERE WAS A CAR CRASHING INTO THE MUSEUM WHICH BROKE THE STATUE OF DAVID TENNANT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 

IT WAS THE POOR MONKEES!!! IN THE MONKEE MOBILE!!!

“Ouchies!” said Micky Dolenz.

“OMG” said The Manager of The Museum (who happened to also be a clone of  Ringo Starr) He was angry. Very angry. So angry, that he was angry. “You guys better pay for this.”

“But we can’t,” said the Beatles (for Brian Epstein did not give them their allowance that day)

“We can’t either,” said the Beach Boys (for they had already spent enough on getting a nintendo switch to play animal crossing: new horizons.

This is left the poor, poor Monkees. “Bruh we poor af.”

“Then you have to work to pay for it smh,” said The Manager of The Museum.

“OH NO!” said all of them at once.

“You must go around the museum to find three fragments of the broken statue that you have broken, which somehow have been transported into the museum which you must complete challenges to get!”

“Like Dora the Explorer?” asked George Harrison, the youngest member of the Beatles. 

    “Yea,” saidThe Manager of The Museum. “Ok bye im gonna play animal crossing: new horizons now :))))))”

    “Ok. We must split up into three groups.”

BEACH BOYS SECTION - THE HALL OF THINGS THAT HAVE TO DO WITH WATER

    “Wow, how convenient is that we have coincidentally walked into the hall of things that have to do with water,” said Denny Wilson. “It is as this was planned.”

    And then…………………….”oh my god a wave,” said M*ke Love.

    “QUICKLY INTO THE BEACH GEAR” shouted Brian Wilson as they proceeded to use the sims animation to change into their beach gear. “NOW WE MUST.,,,,,,,,,,,,.,.,..,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,..,.,.,.,..,.,.,”

“We thro Dennise into da water bc he is da only 1 who can surf XD” said Mke Luv as he tossed Deniise into da water liKE A BOSS AND HI-FIVES ALL ROUND WAPOOSH WAPOOSH TAHK YOU GUYS FOR WATCHING AND I’LL SEE U IN THE NEXT VIDEO!!! *outro plays*

“Ahem,” said Ctrl. “We did not bring a surfboard,,,,,,,,so how is he supposed to surf??? Thonk emoji. Lmfao roasted XD”

“We use (drumroll pls) AL SARDINE as Da Surfboard Lmao!!!” said Miiiiiike lov e as they all jumped on Al Jardine.

“I did not feel a thing, lol” said ALAN JARDINE because he was a super strong boy (stock image of a blond guy flexing his muscles).

Surfing montage.

Surfing montage.

Surfing montage.

Surfing montage.

Surfing montage.

Surfing montage.

Surfing montage.

Surfing montage.

Surfing montage.

Surfing montage.

Surfing montage.

Surfing montage.

“Bruh we reusing animation bro,” said Denal Wilson.

“Oh look an island,” said Brain. Dey all hopped off and landed on the island. On the island was Kurt Cobain.

“Wow Mr Kurt Cobain,” said Broose Honda. “I did not know you lived on dis island.”

“I don’t rofl,” said Coq Au Vin as he handed them a statue fragment.

“Oh wow thx Coco Van,” as they flew away.

MONKEE SECTION - THE HALL OF….I DONT KNOW

    “Lmao is that Stephen Arthur Stills, an American singer, songwriter, and multi-instrumentalist best known for his work with Buffalo Springfield and Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young,” joked Micky Dolenz, pointing to a mirror in front of Peter Tork.

    “Lol yeah,” said Stephen.

    Micky screamed.

    “Here you go broski,” said Stephen Stills, handing them a fragment.

    “But what did we do?” asked Mike Nesmith.

    “Allowing the author to make the awful, often repeated annoying joke about me and Peter Halsten Thorkelson looking like identical twins.”

    “Ok thanks brewski,” said the Monkees as they headed off. “Come on Peter, don’t just stand there.”

    “But I’m Stephen.”

    “Wait,” said Davy. “But Peter was standing there just now.”

    “No, I was standing there.”

    The Monkees looked at each other and had a collective sigh. It was not gonna be as easy as they thought.

    And to make this complication more complicated, the author decided to make David Crosby, Graham Nash and Neil Young walk into the scene.

    “Bro Stephen wtf,” said Neil. “I knew you were small but I didn’t think you could crawl into the vents like that.”

    “But I’m Peter??????????”

    “Oh no not again,” said Graham Nash, already getting another headache.

    “Wait, wait wait, just a moment,” said Davy Jones. “Go back a bit. What do you mean by crawling through the vents.”

    “Please do not question the plot,” threatened David Crosby. 

    “YUH DAVY” said Micky. “Come on now, Peter,” - he grabbed Peter’s hand -” we gotta advance the plot.”

    “But I’m Stephen.”     Micky looked at him with such an expression that expressed a deep amount of hatred for the author. “It doesn’t matter. You guys are the same person anyway.”

The other lads shrugged and took poor Peter Halsten Dorkelson who was too confuzzled and befuddled and bamboozled to be crying.

BEATLES SECTION - THE HALL OF PAPERWORK

    “This is so boring,, (-_-)” said Jawn Jennon. “I think George Harrison fell asleep.”     “L M A O i did rofl lol,” said Heorge Garrison.

    “I am surprised because there is so much paperwork lying about that all look so boring!!” said Paul McEyelash.

    “Someone should clean this up smh,” said Ringone Starone.

    “YAAWWWWWWWWWWWNNNNNNNNNN!!!!!!!!!!!!” they all sed at 1nce. That yawn pushed a stack of paper off a table, which caused a chain reaction, leading to a bucket falling down, a train being activated, a cow mooing and the members of Queen being awoken from their frozen-in-som-kind-a-tube state.

    “BRO WTF WHOMST WOKE US UP (((p(>o<)q)))” said Roger Taylor, stretching. “I was still having my beauty sleep.”

    “(O.O) omg (O.O)(O.O) oh mah gawd (O.O)(O.O)(O.O)” said Freddie Mercury. “Are those (O.O)(O.O)(O.O)(O.O) the legendary (O.O)(O.O)(O.O)(O.O)(O.O)(O.O)(O.O)(O.O) bug boys????????”

    “Ja” said gH.

    “ヽ(★ω★)ノ” said Brian May

    “(¬_¬") smh you woke up my cheese toast,” said John Deacon.

    “I guess, we should thank u for waking us up,” said Freddeh.

    “We wuz nevah gonna wake up,” said Briaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaan Mei.

    “Take dis,” Rogah Taylah gave them a statue fragment that had landed in his hair.

    “Wow thanks that was EZ lmao,” said the bug boys as they went away.

T I M E S K I P

    “（●＾o＾●）” said The Manager of the Museum as he stuck the broken statue fragments of the broken statue of the Museum of Interesting Plot Idea (well I think that what it was called Lmao I didn’t check don’t correct me doe lel)

    “It was’t very challenging at all doe…” said Sand Children. “And for a story with out name in the title, we did not seem to get much attention at all.”

    “Shut up you’ll get your moment later,” said the others pointing down to the rest of the story. “See look at that.”     “None of this is very good,” said Mike Hate, a man with no taste.

    They all went into their respective vehicles and drove away.

    “WAIT!!!!!!” said Dave Jone of the Monkees, pausing the time. “We did not resolve the plot point of us actually kidnapping Steven Stills?????”

    “Help me,” said Stepe.

    “STFU IT’S OUR STORY (◣_◢)” said the beach of the boys, so infuriated with them that smoke came out of their ears like a boiling kettle and their eyes started glowing red which indicated anger.

    “Oh ok sorry lel, he’s British Lol,” said Mike Nesmith.

    “STFU Myke Gessmith.”

    “;~;” said Mike Nukesmith.

    “Y do u guys always have to take the spotlight?!” asked the Beaky Bubs.

    “Bc we’re the author’s favourites, unfortunately,” said Micky, shivering at the memories of what had happened to them before in previous crack fics.

    “Sux for u lmao.”

    Uh how to end dis. Boom. Story done lel.

    THE END FADE TO BLACK

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.Al Barmine

[betweensceneswriter]

Island Hopper-Chapter 23: Cocos Island

The basics:  Claire is a Peace Corps volunteer nurse and Jamie is a Peace Corps teacher on an atoll in the Marshall Islands.  After a whirlwind romance and swift marriage (detailed in Jimjeran Book 1), Claire and Jamie are adjusting to married life.  Currently, they are visiting her family on Guam for Christmas (in this version, she’s one of four siblings with an Air Force chaplain as a dad... and Jamie’s dad didn’t die). 

Previously on Island Hopper:  Chapter 20: Tarzan Falls A hike with friends, and an unexpected reunion at Our Lady of Lourdes.

Island Hopper (Jimjeran Book 2) Full Table of Contents

Island Fever (Jimjeran Book 1) Table of Contents

    The Cocos Island ferry dock was at the southern end of the island so it took us a good hour to get there, traveling in the busy traffic on Marine Drive and through the bustling capitol city of Guam, Agaña.

    Finally at the Cocos Island parking lot we discovered we had arrived at the same time as a crowd of Seth’s friends from the University of Guam, and shortly after we had parked and unloaded all of our things a taxi carrying both John and Joe arrived. Jamie looked at me with a curious smile as the two handsome men walked toward us across the parking lot.

    “They’re just saving money by taking a taxi together,” I suggested nonchalantly, my heart in my throat, face flushing.  “It’s expensive to get around the island.” I stared at the two of them as inconspicuously as I could, wondering if there was more to the sharing of a taxi than I implied.  

    We purchased our tickets at the office and waited for the ferry to arrive at the dock, though we quickly determined it wouldn’t take long gauging from the view we had of the rapidly advancing boat.

    While we waited, I peeled off my cover-up and had Jamie apply sunscreen to my back and shoulders.

    “Christ, Claire, dinna ye think this is something we should have done away from the eyes of a crowd?” he whispered to me.  “Seriously, lass, it seems each day you find new and different ways to torture me.”

    I laughed and put the cover-up back on once he was done.

    On the ride, Seth shouted introductions to his friends over the constant rumble of the boat engines. Dora, Savannah, Alissa, Ramona, Patrick, Ed, Andrew.

    The four girls were young and bubbly, tossing their long hair over their shoulders or pulling it out of their faces as they wrestled with the warm breeze.  I had already admitted defeat and had twisted my curls up in a tousled bun.

    “This is my sister, Claire,” Seth yelled, leaning toward his friends but gesturing towards me.

    “Hi, Claire,” said one of them, reaching across the boat to shake hands with me.

    “And this is her husband, Jamie,” Seth bellowed.

    Most of them smiled and nodded, but I caught a faint look of something next to surprise or disgust cross the face of the girl Seth had introduced as Ramona, the one blonde of the group. Maybe I was reading to much into it, but her facial expression seemed to be saying ‘he's married to you?” I smiled at her, but I doubt it reached my eyes, and then I turned my gaze toward the island as we approached.

    Fortunately the ride was neither long nor the ocean too choppy, so Jamie only looked slightly sallow by the time we arrived.  

    Cocos Island was a little resort off the coast of Guam. When I had been a teenager living there, it was a common place for eighth-grade class field trips and Japanese tourists, the yen being strong against the dollar. This appeared to still be true from the number of teenagers and petite, sunburnt Asians we saw walking along the beach. Palm-frond umbrellas, picnic tables, and lounge chairs joined the palm trees edging the wide white sand expanse of the beach. On the other side of the dock, a large area bounded by floating buoys indicated the region where rented jet skis were to stay.

    The college girls quickly took charge, directing the boys towards an unoccupied semi-shady spot on the sand. We spread out quilts and set down backpacks, both John and Joe establishing themselves near Jamie and myself, farther away from the high-pitched talk and flirtatious giggling of the young ladies. They teased and cajoled until the collegiate men gave in and went out to wade in the ocean, though my guess was that their true intent was to bounce around in their bikinis and get doused with water to make the clingy fabric cling even more.   I watched them curiously, realizing with slight dismay that this was Jamie’s peer group—kids in the 18-22 year age group.

    John and Joe asked Jamie if he wanted to explore the island.  They invited me as well, but not wanting to interrupt the male bonding I declined, finding myself amused enough just observing the strange mating rituals of American college students.  It had been a long time since those days.

    “What are ye doing, hen?” Jamie’s voice startled me, but I regained my composure as he sat down on the sand next to me.

    “Watching people,” I replied with a grin.

    “Which ones?” he asked.

    “Those two,” I said, pointing over toward Shelly and one of Seth's friends. Was it Patrick?  No, maybe it was Ed.  I remembered that he was tall and dark-haired, and looked more Latino than Chamorro or Filipino. “I’m watching Shelly and whoever that is,” I said, making another gesture in their direction.

    “Hush,” Jamie said, quickly grabbing my hand and pulling it downward into his lap.  “Didna your parents teach ye it's rude to point?”

    I smirked back at him. Nevertheless, he followed the direction my finger had indicated and saw Shelly blushing prettily, lowering her eyelashes and then looking up and meeting the handsome young man's gaze.

    “‘Um,’” Jamie squeaked, “‘Could you help me find my swimsuit? I know it's around here somewhere…’” It took me a moment to realize this was his version of Shelly.

    I elbowed him in the side.

    “Don't talk about my sister that way,” I grumbled in semi-perturbed response.

    “Seriously, Ri-pālle,” he said, turning to me and speaking as himself, “What young ladies think passes for swimwear these days… Why, if I had a daughter, I wouldna let her wear such a tiny suit.”

    “She looks good in it,” I said, inspecting her. “You want to penalize her for being pretty?  You're too conservative.”

    “Aye, perhaps I am,” Jamie replied. “But look at the way he's looking at her, eating her wi’ his eyes.”

    “No…” I contradicted.  “That’s not it at all. ‘You seem intelligent and well-spoken,’” I offered in a deep voice. “‘I am deeply interested in your thoughts and dreams. What do you think of the current state of affairs with North Korea?’”

    Jamie leaned over and kissed me on the forehead. “Ye are quite amusing, wee one.”

    “Can't a guy feel both ways?” I asked. “Interested in a girl as a person AND attracted to her physically?”

    “Aye,” he conceded with a smile.  “I guess I'm just feeling protective.”

    “Because you liked me as a person first, right?” I asked.

    “Definitely,” he said, looking away at the white sand rimmed by turquoise water. “Though I was aware of you as a woman from nearly the beginning.” He returned his gaze to me, his eyes traveling appreciatively over my body, punctuating his comment with a low whistle.  My insides quivered at the expression on his face and I flushed and turned away, hearing the approach of footsteps on the sand.

    “Come swimming with us,” Joe panted, sitting down beside me. “I like John well enough, but I came out here to visit my friend!”

    John grinned as he squatted off to the side. He really was a nice-looking guy with his tanned skin and a muscular but slim build, kind eyes and bright smile.

    “We’re people-watching,” Jamie offered. “Join us.”  He nodded his head toward Shelly and her handsome young friend. “‘I'm going to be a climate scientist,’” Jamie squeaked. “‘And I think the cause of global warming is you!’”

    Not missing a beat, John added in a masterful falsetto,“‘You walk by, and my temperature goes up by two degrees!’”

    Jamie guffawed, and Joe gave John a high five while I pretended it wasn't funny and rolled my eyes.

    “Seriously, Claire, come swim.”

    “Soooo many reasons not to,” I objected.

    “Such as?” Joe asked.

    “Sharks.  Coral scars.  Salt water--which makes my skin sticky and my hair frizzy.”

    “Then come to the pool,” John urged.  “You can’t object to that--this is our chance to play! Ejjab ri-jowan!”

    I looked at Jamie for the translation. “Don’t be lazy,” he said with a grin. I took Jamie’s proffered hand and got up, brushing the sand from my backside and following the guys to the pool.

    Once there, I sat on the edge with my legs in the water, not eager to get into the semi-cold pool.  The boys seemed less reluctant, jumping in almost immediately.  Joe decided to swim laps, having claimed that he had been eating too much and without going to the gym he wasn’t getting enough exercise to burn the calories he was consuming.  Though I couldn’t see a spare ounce on his toned abdomen, I had shrugged and shooed him off.

    “How has your visit been?” I asked John, who waded through the water to me and leaned against the side of the pool where he joined me in watching Joe’s long arms beat a steady rhythm as he swam laps, and Jamie’s back as he climbed up the ladder on the deep end of the pool.

    “Far more interesting than I expected it to be,” he responded, “Though Aikwij and Emily have said they thought they’d see more of me.”

    “Oh, I’m so sorry!” I apologized.  “We just wanted to include you.  We wouldn’t have asked as often if we’d thought we were offending your family.”

    “I’m not sorry,” John replied, following Jamie with his eyes as my muscular husband walked to the diving board and paused, checking to make sure Joe was at the far end of the pool. “I’ve missed Jamie the last couple of years, and it’s been lovely to see so much of the island with your family.  And to meet Joe, too,” he said, with a shy smile.

    I soon saw a side of Jamie I hadn’t observed before as he climbed the steps to the diving board and did a graceful backwards dive into the pool.  He came up out of the water grinning and quickly swam to the shallow end.  Once he reached us, he shook his head violently, showering me with water and making the curls pop up all over his scalp. Instead of squealing, I just glared at him, rolled my eyes, and kept on talking to John.

    Eventually I succumbed to pressure and went in swimming with the boys, but soon, feeling more chilled than I had in months, I retreated to the women’s locker room in the pool house to take a warm shower.

    I had wrapped myself in my towel and curled up on one of the lounge chairs under the palm trees by the pool when I saw Jamie exit the men’s locker room.  He shaded his eyes, looking around then heading away from me toward the beach.  I saw at least two sets of giggly girls--sunburned and simpering--parade past him.  I watched him, looking for his response to other women.  He seemed friendly enough, stepping to the side to allow them the right-of-way--but I didn’t see him ogle.  That didn’t mean anything, of course.  I knew plenty of guys who had mastered the art of the non-head-turning stare.

    There were three girls off to my right. From appearances, I couldn’t tell whether they were high school or college-aged and I didn’t want to seem like a stalker.  However, I couldn’t help but hear as bits of their conversation wafted in my direction.

    “Oh my god, look at that piece of man candy,” one of the girls said.  I scanned the poolside to see who they were talking about.

    “You mean that redhead? He is damn fine!” was the response.  I felt a flush of embarrassed pride as I realized that they were talking about Jamie.  I burrowed deeper into my towel, not sure I wanted Jamie to see me at that precise moment.

    There were a few murmurs of appreciation from the young ladies, and one girl declared confidently, “I’d go down on that and then give him the ride of his life.”

    I nearly snorted as I tried to keep down my laughter.  Having already done both of those things multiple times, I had a strong suspicion she'd be hard pressed to give him ‘the ride of his life.’

    Finally, Jamie reached a place where he could survey most of the beach, including the location claimed by Seth and his friends.  Not finding me among them, he turned back toward the pool.

    I could tell when he noticed me from the smile that spread across his face.  Instead of meandering he headed straight for me, pulled the lounge chair next to me a little closer, and stretched his length out on the chair.

    I could hear disappointed exclamations from the trio but worked to ignore them.  After all, what did it matter what they thought?

    Jamie grabbed my hand, brought it up to his lips and kissed it, releasing it slowly as he ran his cheek down the back of my hand.

    “You shaved today!” I exclaimed at the unusual softness.

    “So did you,” he remarked, running a finger gently up my thigh at which I shivered.

    We sat in silence for a few minutes, taking in the view of breakers crashing on the coral barrier reef that protected the small outlying island, causing the waves that reached the sandy beach to gently lap at the shore.

    “You seem lost in thought,” Jamie said, looking up at me from the lounge chair, one arm behind his head as a pillow.  “I could swear you were going to start talking at least four times by now.” At my furrowed forehead he explained himself, “I ken because ye always take a half-breath when you have something to say.”

    He waited then as I thought through the jumble in my mind and finally came out with my question.

    “What if I'm your Frank?” I asked.

    “What do you mean?” he asked.  I lowered my lounge chair back so I could lie next to him, affording us more privacy in the conversation.

    “It’s possible that I’m your Frank.  I’m stable.  I’m settled.  I’m mature.” As Jamie raised his eyebrows skeptically, I added honestly “--ish.”

    “I think ye have an overly high opinion of your maturity,” he joked.

    I could see he didn’t understand what I meant.  “No, let me explain,” I insisted, trying to keep my thoughts straight. “I started dating Frank because in comparison to the guys in my peer group, he was a catch.  Responsible, hardworking, established, mature.”

    “And so you are proposing…” Jamie started the sentence, waiting for me to finish it.

    “That that’s the real reason you liked me.  That in comparison to other twenty-somethings I was relatively settled in life.  Stable. And that appealed to you.”

    Jamie scoffed and shook his head.  “Ye are not my Frank,” he contradicted. “Certainly those qualities appealed to me.  But there’s more to us than that.  Consider, Claire.  Ye arna with me just because I’m younger.  It certainly wasn’t for my age that you were attracted to me, was it?”

    “No…” I mused in response. “In fact, it was probably a hindrance.”

    “Aye,” Jamie said.  His face softened.  “I admired you, yes, for your talents & intelligence.  But I also felt a strong attraction, so I didna look at ye and think ‘Claire’s too old for me.’”  Not meeting my eyes, he added, “The only time I even thought about it was when you tried to push me away, using me being Seth’s age as some sort of excuse, some sort of reason that I wasna yer equal.”

    He looked truly troubled now, forehead wrinkled, and I began to feel slightly nauseated.

    “I think we’ve been through this before, though,” I said.  “Your age was just an easy excuse.  In a way I was shaming myself for the way I was feeling--falling in love with you, wanting to be unfaithful to Frank--and I only meant to push you away. I couldn’t tell you how I really felt.”

    Jamie took a slow, ragged breath.

    “Oh babe, I hurt you…” I said with sudden recognition.

    He was looking at me then, an uncertain shadow in his eyes.

    “I’m sorry, Jamie,” I insisted. “That wasn’t my intent.” It seemed like he was drifting away from me, so I reached for his hand, wanting something to connect us.

    “You didna think you could trust me with the truth?” he asked.  

    “No, it wasn’t that I couldn't trust you,” I insisted.  “I couldn’t trust myself to be vulnerable.  We were already too intimate.  Sharing how I truly felt would have just opened me up that much more.”

    He looked away.

    “Really, Jamie.  Do you really think I could have said all that to you?...  I’m here in the Marshall Islands because I’m questioning my relationship with my fiance and I’m kind of hoping to break up with him while we are apart but I’m trying to fool myself into thinking there’s something to save and so I’m going to push you away because although you are the first person I’ve ever connected with in this way, I feel a deep sense of guilt that I couldn’t make a relationship with a good guy work?”

    Finally Jamie was smiling, shaking his head slightly as he looked down at our joined hands. “Aye,” he said.  “That would have been about right.”

    “But am I your Frank?” I asked.  “Are you going to outgrow me?  Will you find me too staid and—yes—mature for you as time goes by?”

    Jamie sat up, leaned over, and kissed me firmly. “Hush, wee one.”

    I paused, stunned by his swiftness, a little mortified that he’d claimed me in the presence of the young women, and suddenly ashamed of myself.

    “I’m doing it again, aren’t I?” I asked.  He settled back on the chair but watched me through eyes half-closed to shield him from the sun.

    “Aye,” he said with a sigh.  “Ye need constant reassurance that I mean what I say, and that makes me wonder if you trust me.  Have I ever done or said anything to lead you to believe that I am regretful about marrying you? Or...” he paused briefly, “that I’m no’ satisfied with our life together?”

    “No...” I answered slowly, then repeated myself with more force.  “No, Jamie.  Not at all.  You seem happy. But I would regret marrying me,” I stated.  

    He laughed and stroked the back of my hand with his thumb.

    “Ri-pālle… Do you have some vision of me as a perfect man?” he asked.  His sudden insight silenced me. Probably, I thought. I probably did see him as somehow better than I.

    “You’re so beautiful, Jamie,” I said slowly, watching the faint pink creep over his face in response. “I still find myself looking at you sometimes and marveling at you.  And you were such an innocent when we married.”

    “Innocent?” he scoffed briefly.  “Virginity at marriage doesn't qualify me to be canonized to sainthood,” he said. “Considering that we were engaged a mere three days, my resolve was truly untested.”

    I giggled, remembering a heady make-out session in the dark overlooking the beach, and another episode of first-time experiences in his classroom the afternoon before our wedding.

    “Ye canna idolize me, hen,” he said, a smile quirking his own lips and recognition filling his eyes. “Ye canna think me perfect simply because I haven’t had the opportunity to deeply disappoint you yet.”

    I watched the play of light through the palm trees on his face.  

    “You’re probably right,” I said.  “I’m asking too many questions.  And I didn’t choose you simply because of your age.”

    “No,” he agreed.  “You chose me because we were like-minded.  Because we enjoyed each other's company.”

    “Because you filled my heart in a way it had never been filled before,” I said quietly.

    “And do ye not see that you also fill mine?” he said quietly.

    I could see it then, in the way his eyes crinkled at the corner in affection.  He lifted his hand to my face, stroking my cheek.

    “So then, you didna leave him because he was too mature, did you?” he asked.

    “No,” I agreed.  “I left because we just weren’t connecting, and I knew there had to be something more.”

    I meant it, and I could feel tears welling up in my eyes as I looked at him.

    Jamie swallowed hard, his face flushing. “God, I want to kiss ye.  And I ken I could, that it isna Arno,” he said.  “But there are some school girls over there that keep staring at us, and I don’t want to debauch their innocent minds by attacking ye here and now.”

    I laughed with an almost-snort.  “Innocent minds?  You have no idea,” I replied.

    “Come, love,” he said, pulling me to my feet. “Let’s join the others.  It’s been a lovely day, but I think we should catch the next boat home.”

Next up:  Chapter 24: Stag Night Seth wants to give Jamie a stag night, and Joe and John have a bachelorette night with Claire.

[itsomgitsgreenblogging]

Break My Heart: Chapter 13 (A Solangelo Fanfic)

LAST CHAPTER 

I kind of can’t believe it. This fic was pretty much my singular project for 2017, and I put my heart and soul into it. Thank you so much to everyone who supported me in this endeavor, and look out for more projects in the PJO fandom (and possible a Nico POV companion fic). 

Enjoy!

Read Completed on AO3

Read Completed On Tumblr: Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8, Chapter 9, Chapter 10, Chapter 11, Chapter 12

Preview:

“It’s going to be alright. Who’s to say you haven’t already changed the future?” Cecil offered hopefully, giving Will’s shoulders a comforting squeeze.

“Maybe it’s like Achilles and the whole two fates thing. Maybe you’ve already chosen what path you’re going to go down,” Lou Ellen said as she went to grab tissues and give them to Will. Will gratefully received them and blew his nose.

“How did that end up for Achilles again?” Cecil asked worriedly.

“Uh, he died.”

“Oh. Great. Nothing to worry about then?” Cecil said, his voice raising to make the statement almost a question.

“I’m doomed,” Will said miserably, putting his face in his hands.

Will woke up to the sound of giggling.

               This wasn’t entirely new to him, but the fact that it only got worse as he stirred was cause for alarm. At first he groggily swatted at his eyes, as if that would dispel the gigglers. However, that seemed to only make the giggles stronger. Will finally opened his eyes, and was face to face with Clovis laying in the next bed. Will yelped in surprise, fell off the bed, and realized there was something on his face and shirt.

               Will glared and saw Harley, Heather from Iris Cabin, and Rudy from Hecate Cabin (three of the youngest campers still remaining at camp) burst into laughter as Alice and Julia from Hermes cabin looked on with appreciation. Nico was stifling his own laughter and Will walked over and got a good look at himself in the mirror. He understood the laughter. They had drawn whiskers on his face in eyeliner, someone had connected the dots on his cheek and dashed on blue glitter to form what looked like a Jackson Pollock painting. His shirt was lined with Dora the Explorer stickers.

               “Haha very funny guys,” Will told them flatly before eyeing Nico who sat primly on his bed and spat out. “You said I should lie down and take a nap and you have let me be rudely awoken. Oath-breaker.”

               “Get wrecked,” was Nico’s succinct reply.

               “Oh come on Will, it’s funny,” Julia said with a giggle. “Just a harmless little prank.”

               “Prank? Prank? How am I going to get this glitter off my—”

               Will pulled down his shirt to emphasize the stickers, when he saw a blue flash on his fingers. He stared at them, at the very familiar blue nail polish that now adorned them. Will felt the blood drain out of his face in an instant.

               “Oh no.”

               “Oh no, oh no oh no oh no,” Will said as he desperately as he paced back and forth in Lou Ellen’s cabin. Hecate Cabin looked like the inside of what Will imagined a witch’s hut would. Herbs were hanging and drying, making the air fragrant. There was a work table laden with tools, the bunk beds looked as if they were twisting out of tree trunks. Books lined the walls, papers with hand written spells were stuffed into every available space. Unlike the latent skills of people like Will or Percy Jackson, Hecate demanded that her children work hard and study for great power. The harder they worked and practiced, the better the magic. Will appreciated that about the goddess. It was better than the genetic lottery.

               “I thought you said you were okay with this!” Lou Ellen said, half-concerned and half-exasperated, moving a tiny bedside table with candles on it so Will wouldn’t knock into it during his pacing. Candle-making was one of Lou Ellen’s hobby, and Will would have been even more beside himself to wreck her projects.

               “I totally lied, I’m not okay with this, I’m not okay at all,” Will said before holding up his hands. “Are you seeing this?”

               “Yeah, it’s blue nail polish,” Lou Ellen told him evenly.

               “Yeah, the nail polish from my dream! I had nail polish on in my dream! Which means my dream is going to happen soon, really really soon. And I’m really really not okay with that,” Will bemoaned as he sank down on an empty bunk. “And I thought everything was going so well. We kissed, and we were flirting, and we were having so much fun together and I don’t want this to end. I don’t want to break up with Nico.”

               “Maybe you should take it off?” Lou Ellen offered.

               “How long does nail polish last?” Will asked nervously.

               “I don’t know? A week, maybe two depending on the brand.”

               “Then I can’t take it off! This is the only thing telling me how much time I have left.”

               At that moment Cecil burst into the room, his usual cheer was gone. He looked madder than a wet hen.

               “I really gave it to Julia and Alice, Gods I can’t believe they did that. Pranks are all fun and good but it is against cabin policy to utilize other people’s powers to do them especially when they can’t consent. They actually moved Clovis out of his hammock! And of course, Conner isn’t going to tell them no,” Cecil said before looking at Will, his anger turning into alarm. “Will, are you crying?”

               “Yes,” Will answered, rubbing away his frustrated tears. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

               “No Will, don’t cry,” Lou Ellen half-begged him as she cupped his cheeks. Cecil sat down next to him and slung his arm over Will’s shoulder. “It’s okay, we’re going to figure this out somehow.”

               “It’s going to be alright. Who’s to say you haven’t already changed the future?” Cecil offered hopefully, giving Will’s shoulders a comforting squeeze.

“Maybe it’s like Achilles and the whole two fates thing. Maybe you’ve already chosen what path you’re going to go down,” Lou Ellen said as she went to grab tissues and give them to Will. Will gratefully received them and blew his nose.

“How did that end up for Achilles again?” Cecil asked worriedly.

“Uh, he died.”

“Oh. Great. Nothing to worry about then?” Cecil said, his voice raising to make the statement almost a question.

“I’m doomed,” Will said miserably, putting his face in his hands. “I’m doomed. I ran out of the infirmary—what if Nico thinks I’m mad at him? What if that’s why we break up? I need to go back and—”

“Will, breathe,” Lou Ellen demanded of him. The electric kettle clicked as it finished boiling, and she got up. She quickly placed a homemade bag of tea mix in a chipped mug, measured out honey and cream, before shoving it in Will’s hands. “Drink that, Hecate cabin’s signature calming tea mix. I’m going to mix up all sorts of spells. Cecil, I’m probably going to need you to get some things.”

“Okie dokie,” Cecil said, springing up and saluting her before turning to Will. “We’ll fix this somehow, Will. Don’t you give up hope, okay? Somehow we’ve made it through so much, and it was because you had our backs. It’s time that we had yours.”

“You guys…” Will half-choked. His heart was brimming—no overflowing with love for these two dorks. He felt the place where his power came from, where the sunlight that spilled from inside of him, respond to the sudden wave of emotion. He gave them both a tearful smile. “I love you guys. No matter what anyone may say, you guys are the best.”

“Don’t we know it?” Lou Ellen said, while Cecil just smiled back.  

Will ended up leaving Lou Ellen’s cabin after the sun had dipped down past the horizon. Will was holding a jar of potpourri that Lou Ellen had made up for him. Will stopped on his way to his cabin, unable to help ducking into the pavilion. He looked to the offering table, the goblets and the flowers. Will placed the jar on the table and lit a candle.

“Are you there Dad? It’s me Will,” he opened up before laughing. “Yeah, yeah I know bad reference. But I guess that’s all I have right now. I just thought that maybe since this is sort of the end of the line I should probably talk…or pray to you or whatever.”

“I’m going out with Nico di Angelo now. I know you met him at some point, but he’s really amazing. And I’m not just saying that. He’s strong and he’s actually really kind but he doesn’t want anyone knowing it. And he’s considerate, and he’s a total dork. He’s a little creepy too but that’s part of the charm. It’s a son of Hades thing I’m pretty sure,” Will said with a laugh. “And I’ve been having fun every day since we started going out, like so much fun. Nico’s funny and he’s really awesome to just hang out with. Gods, he’s got a great sense of humor. And we—we just sort of get each other. It’s not like one of those things you have to work for, when you really just get a person. And I feel like, it’s starting to all become real. Like we can make something real out of this thing we have together as long as we are together. But I had this dream…Dad. A prophetic dream, one that told me that Nico was going to break up with me. And I don’t want it to be true, because I don’t want it all to end like that. Not when it’s all just beginning. Not when there’s like a whole relationship to have.”

Will took a deep breath, steadying himself against the table. When he felt like he had the strength, he straightened up.

“Dad, I know I’m probably one of the last people on the whole planet you actually care about. I know that. I’ve never asked you any favors, not in my entire sixteen years. I’ve never asked you for special treatment or anything. Maybe that’s been my problem, you only help those who help preen your feathers and I haven’t been willing to do it. Well you know what? I’m ready now. Hit me with your requests, but in return you have to give me the truth behind this dream. Behind this prophecy. What even is the point of it? Why would I get it? Maybe just talk to me? Tell me…something? Anything? I’m really open to anything at this point if I’m being real. So just lay it all on me, Dad. Hit me with your infinite godly wisdom or something, I actually have no idea how that all works but I’m really open to anything. So just…go ahead I guess?”

Will offered up jazz hands to the table. Nothing particularly magical happened, nor did Will feel any change to himself. After a few moments of waiting around for nothing, Will sighed and ran a hand through his curls.

“Alright. Radio silence. I guess we can’t all be important demigods who get gods to notice them all the time,” Will commented before wincing at how that came out. He hadn’t meant to sound as bitter as he did. “Well, I tried. But just know, I’m here if you ever change your mind.”

               Will left the dining pavilion in much the same mood he had gotten there, with seemingly nothing accomplished besides having the sound of silence ringing in his ears.

               That night Will didn’t get to sleep right away, which wasn’t normal for him. Will tended to start getting tired the moment the sun sunk underneath the horizon. But instead he tossed and turned on his cot for a while, trying to get comfortable and not being successful. Eventually at some point he must of drifted off out of sheer lateness and exhaustion, but when that was Will had no clue.

That night Will didn’t have any dreams about Nico. Instead Will had a dream about a falling star. A vivid and disconcerting dream that did little to give him restful sleep. In his dream Will was watching that falling star streak across a winter’s sky, a bright burst against the seam of night. Instead of the usual feelings of wonder that should have accompanied such a sight, Dream Will instead had an acute sense of dread as he watched it trail and disappear in the light of the city as if it had never been in the first place.

               “Weird,” Kayla noted sitting next to him on the steps of Cabin Seven, she was bundled up and had been sipping hot chocolate from a mug with foxes on it, however she drew the mug away from her lips as she stared up as if the sky had just perplexed her with a bizarre question. Her hair was dyed green, but parts of her natural red roots were beginning to show.

               “I have a bad feeling about that,” Austin mumbled as he buried his chin more firmly in his wool scarf and ducked further into his pea coat, rubbing his arms as if to protect himself from something more than just the cold. He had placed his own mug next to him and left it wafting steam into the winter air, and continued to look up and search for the star that had disappeared. “I don’t know if it’s an omen, but whatever it is I get the feeling it certainly isn’t good.”

               “Same here,” Dream Will said, craning his neck up as he continued to look at that sky that somehow looked slightly dimmer without the radiance of that fallen star. He hoped it was nothing, but he knew that in the life of a demigod that was often too much to hope for. “Same here.”

               “Are you mad at me?”

               It was Nico’s question as they stood by the target practice. Will ogled at Nico, the suddenness of the question taking him really off guard. It was a sort of cloudy day, the kind of day that always made Will feel sluggish. The sky was grey and lift everything with a dreary tinge. Will was making the most of the UV that he could get, turning his face up often to the sky.  

               “Mad at you? Why?” Will asked, confused and concerned.

               “Yesterday you sort of ran out of the infirmary,” Nico explained as he lined up his shot with the bow. He took the shot with confidence and ended up in the blue ring, which was a pretty decent shot if you asked Will. Nico looked dissatisfied, as he lowered his bow and looked towards Will. “I didn’t know that was going to upset you as much as it would. I’m really sorry.”

               “It’s okay, honestly,” Will lied. “I was just flustered is all. I wasn’t mad at you. If anything it was Alice and Julia, but they are always like that. And of course, Conner can’t be asked to reign them in.”

               “Are you sure?” Nico said with a suspicious sideways glance, not looking convinced at all.

               “Very sure, I promise.”

               “Okay then,” Nico said with a sigh that sounded relieved, and that made Will’s heart twist in his chest.

               “I’m sorry I worried you like that,” Will told him.

               “Why? You don’t have to be worried about me, I’m fine,” Nico said as he strung another arrow in the bow. His posture was a little off and his stance was closed. Will reached to give Nico’s leg a tap to remind him to move his feet to balance better. Nico did so automatically, and gave another shot. He was still in the blue ring, but the shot had looked much better.

               “You’re getting better at this,” Will commented.

               “When you are getting tutored by children of Apollo you ought to hope you would be,” Nico scoffed as he rolled his shoulders. “I’ll keep to my sword though.”  

               “Sort of a shame, you give me a run for my money with the bow,” Will said as he lined up his shot. He took a steadying breath and let the arrow fly. It hit off center in the red, and Will cracked his neck as he appraised the shot. It wasn’t too bad considering his history with archery, though it was always annoying that he could never seem to get better considering he was a son of the god of archery himself.

               Will’s thoughts were immediately broken by the feeling of Nico’s hands on his shoulders and pulling him backwards. Will staggered his feet, trying to stand and turn his head to look at Nico’s expression, which was very annoyed as he looked down at him.

               “What are you doing?” Will squeaked. It was weird seeing Nico from this angle, not that Will really minded it one bit. Though Nico was handsome short, he would probably look equally handsome tall. Nico would probably look good any which way frankly.

               “You’re tall and it’s annoying me for some reason today,” Nico told him bluntly.

               “I’m really sorry?” Will offered nervously and Nico let him go, looking very dissatisfied with Will’s answer. Will stood back up, thankful to regain his bearing before looking to Nico apologetically. “I’m no good am I? I guess it would help you better to get tips from someone who’s around your height right? And not to mention someone who’s better at archery than I am.”

               Nico didn’t answer immediately but instead caught his arm. Will turned to face him, and Nico grabbed his chin. Nico pulled him down firmly, looking him right in the eye without any hesitation. Will couldn’t help the shiver that ran up his spine.

               “I don’t like it when you talk bad about yourself,” Nico told him pointedly, though from his tone it sounded more like an order.

               “You talk bad about yourself sometimes,” Will reminded him somewhat weakly.

               “If you dislike it as much as I dislike this then I won’t do it as much,” Nico told Will. Will leaned down and kissed Nico, catching Nico’s next words with his mouth.  

               Nico’s traced the length of Will’s neck with his fingers, the coolness of his touch sending goosebumps rippling across his skin. Will closed the distance in an instant. They kissed chastely, Will curling his arms around Nico’s waist to bring him as close as possible while Nico’s fingers combed through his hair. He tugged, and Will gasped. Kissing Nico was like nothing else, it was utterly thrilling. He wanted to be able to kiss him all the time, to have Nico’s kisses burn his skin and mark him—scar him so he would never forget the feeling of Nico’s affection even if Nico left him.

               And then Will felt the tentative brush of Nico’s tongue against his own.

               Oh my god, tongue, tongue, Will thought half-shocked, half-delighted. He was nearly giddy. He was making out with Nico, Nico was making out with him and they were kissing with tongue. Will couldn’t even believe it—

               Will heard a noise, which on second thought was obviously his siblings coming back towards the shooting range from the bathrooms. Nico flinched and Will felt pain burst over his tongue as Nico bit down. Will yelped, slapped a hand over his mouth, and doubled over. There wasn’t any blood, thank goodness, but it was mostly the surprise of it that had Will reeling.

               “Oh my Gods, Will, I’m so sorry!” Nico said as he knelt by Will.

               “It’s okay…I’m okay,” Will promised him weakly.

               “Holy crap, did you try to beat up our brother?” Kayla asked half-amused and half-worried as Kayla and Austin rushed to Will’s side. Will gave his siblings a watery, but amused look, while Nico spluttered and gasped.

               “And he won,” Will said if only to tease Nico, removing his hand from his mouth after running his tongue over his teeth to assure that everything was in working order. Nico scoffed and rolled his eyes with a blush. “Nico always wins.”

               “Shut up, dork,” Nico said with a sigh, offering his hand to help Will up. Will took it gratefully, squeezing his fingers to assure himself that he wouldn’t disappear.

               “What in tarnation—?” Will demanded as he walked into his cabin the next day. He had been moderating a cabin dialogue between Hephaestus and Demeter cabins, to resolve an ongoing issue about scorching daisies. When he had left earlier, the cabin had been in the usual working order. But now he wasn’t even sure he was in the right place.

               “Did you actually say ‘what in tarnation’ or did I just have a stroke?” Kayla asked with a raised eyebrow.

               “Kayla! Austin!” Will said, walking into a fake cobweb and swatting it away from his face. “What is this?”

               “Halloween decorations, duh?” Austin asked as he moved and a dancing skeleton began belting out the monster mash. “I don’t remember you being such a Scrooge, Will.”

               “First off, Scrooge is Christmas. Secondly, I said moderate decorations, what about this is moderate?” Will asked as he nearly knocked over a witch into her cauldron, shaking some hay out of his boots. “Seriously, guys, are you just trying to screw with me? What have you done to my plants?”

               Will gathered up Al (his aloe plant) and rubbed its pot. The plant itself was fine, but stuck in the dirt was minitombstones, and on the pot itself was shimmery spider-webs and ghosts. He gave his siblings a look before placing down his plant down next to its siblings among the black cats and mini-pumpkins. The windows were covered with Halloween window-stickers, and the bunks were all strung up with orange pumpkin lights.

               “We just decorated them,” Austin told him with a huff.

               “Seriously? Today of all days?” Will asked, relatively heated. Both Kayla and Austin flinched at Will’s tone, but Will didn’t necessarily care. “And you guys realize that Halloween is like, a Celtic thing right? Different pagan religion right? Do you want to get us struck down? How did you guys even manage all of this while I was gone?”

               “We had a little help,” Kayla said slowly.

               “Who?” Will asked suspiciously.  

               The cabin door swung open to reveal Paolo who smiled at them, he was carrying a box bursting with still more Halloween direction. Kayla fluttered her eyelashes, smiled, and waved at him. He said something in Portuguese, placed down the box and then left.

               “No,” Will said pointing at Kayla, positively livid at this point. “No.”

               “Oh come on Will, you can’t be the only one allowed to ogle at Paolo!” Kayla whined at him with a pout. “He’s basically a work of art!”

               “No!” Will said, still pointing at Kayla, trying to feel for the door behind him.

               “But Will—”

               “No! You are not allowed to flirt with Paolo,” Will informed Kayla as he finally grabbed the door handle. “Now excuse me while I go introduce my foot to his ass!”

               “No, Will, don’t embarrass me!”

               “Consider it already done!” Will warned her, walking out and slamming the door behind him.

               Will stomped forward, trying to figure out the logistics of giving a shovel talk to someone who didn’t speak the same language as him. In fact, the only English Paolo seemed to know was “Yes” and “No”, “Please and Thank You” and the title sequence of Law and Order SVU. He wasn’t sure that wild gesticulating would cut it, nor did he think that Paolo would get it. Was there different body language signs for things in different countries? Will was suddenly seized by the thought. Well, he had never left the USA so he didn’t know and he didn’t speak any language fluently besides English. Will could read ancient Greek but other than that he had nothing. He guessed there probably must have been, but there was some universal signs of disapproval that he could certainly use to intimidate Paolo. Though that was unlikely, considering that Will wasn’t particularly intimidating himself.

               “Woah, Will, what’s going on?” Nyssa asked him as they ran across each other.

               “Paolo is flirting with my sister, or my sister is flirting with Paolo. I don’t know either way, and still I’m distressed,” Will told her as he rubbed the back of his neck with his hand.

               “Clearly,” Nyssa said as she observed him. “But can Paolo even flirt with Kayla? Paolo doesn’t speak English.”

               “Does it matter? There is some sort of canoodling happening and I don’t like it.”  

               “Why? All the hot boys in the camp don’t belong to you, Will,” Nyssa cackled.

               “Well they should,” Will said haughtily. “I don’t want to deal with this today. Really I don’t.”

               “Is that Will Solace I hear, talking about boys?” asked Mitchell from Aphrodite cabin as he crossed across the green from where he and his cabin mates had finished playing a round of volley boy.

               “Hold your horses, I am not commenting on any rumors in the Aphrodite Cabin rumor mill. No thank you,” Will said, holding up his arms like an x. “I’m pleading the fifth. I’m just trying to find Paolo so I can get him to stop bringing Halloween stuff to my dorm.”

               “Do they even celebrate Halloween in Brazil?” asked Mitchell curiously, his big doe eyes on the both of them in curiosity. Will had always liked Mitchell, he could be sort of a pushover, but he was steady at heart and would do what was right. At the same time he would not like to be getting on Mitchell’s radar with the Nico situation still being hushed.

               “Day of the Dead maybe,” Nyssa said with a shrug. “He’s probably getting into the spirit for his first American Halloween.”

               “So Paolo isn’t just popping in to…you know, scope out the availability?” Mitchell asked, half-curious and half-egging Will on.

               “What availability?” Will asked, knowing he shouldn’t.

               “Yours!”

               “Me? My sister was making googly eyes at him, not me—okay strike that, I have made googly eyes at him but only to check on his healing, he has a penchant for ending up in my infirmary,” Will told Mitchell with a sigh.

               “He is pretty good looking,” Nyssa said with a shrug. “If di Angelo wasn’t so obvious, I would say Paolo would be a cute boy to date.”

               “Wha—what?” Will spluttered out in shock, in spite of himself and the fact he was actually going out with Nico and very pleased about it, he blushed very obviously. This only seemed to spur Mitchell’s excitement on.

               “I know right?” Mitchell squealed excitedly. “Will, Nico’s so into you. You have got to start going out, though he is kind of scary. But seriously Will, who? Is it a girl? A boy? Both? Who’s your—”

               Interestingly enough, Mitchell’s words died on his lips and ended with a squeak. Will turned around, only to see Nico standing a bit off to the side. He was looking at Mitchell and Nyssa so intensely that it looked as if he was looking through their skin and bones.

               “Hey Nico,” Will greeted as pleasantly as possible, despite the fact his own skin was crawling from Nico’s black, dark stare as it turned on him. Will swore he could see an eternity in that gaze, and it was an eternity spent somewhere unpleasant. Mitchell shrank back, obviously terrified. Nyssa held her breath.

               “Come with me,” Nico said shortly, grabbing Will’s arm. It wasn’t a harsh grip, just adamant. Will gave Mitchell and Nyssa an apologetic look before allowing Nico to pull him away. Will let Nico pull him away, a bit, until they were at Nico’s cabin which was far enough away from the others that they had a modicum of privacy.

               “Nico, talk to me,” Will said as he touched Nico’s hand on his arm. “It’s okay. I’m sure if we go back, they’d apologize to you.”

               “They were talking about you,” Nico said tersely, his expression unreadable. “I didn’t like how they were talking about you.”

               “About me?” Will asked, confused. “You mean, about who I like? Nico, I like you. I don’t like anyone else.”

               “I know that,” Nico said harshly, his breath coming out almost like a growl. “I know.”

               “Then what’s wrong?” Will continued to probe, seeing turmoil cracking from under Nico’s expression.

               “It felt like they were spreading rumors about you.”

               “About me? I’m not really a hot topic here at CHB,” Will said, blinking rapidly.

               “Are you kidding me?” Nico asked with a raised eyebrow. “Really? What kind of mirror are you looking in?”

               Will rocked back on his heels. He was mostly taken aback by the implication of what Nico was saying. Talking as if Will was the hot one in this relationship, which, obviously Nico was but…

               “I can tell from your face that you don’t believe me,” Nico surmised surprisingly quick.  

               “It doesn’t matter what anyone else thinks. I only care about your feelings right now. What are you feeling?” Will asked him, honestly having no clue on what to feel. Nico’s jaw worked as he closed his eyes and took in a deep breath. When he opened his eyes again, the crawly-cold-pressure was gone. His eyes were once again reflective.

               “I feel like I’m…ugh this is going to sound so stupid,” Nico said as he scrubbed at his face. “There was this time I was playing…Mythomagic with Frank.”

               “You play Mythomagic?” Will asked, surprised.

               “I mean…yes,” Nico said after a painfully uncomfortable pause. He rubbed his hands together, but as far as Will could tell it was more to comfort himself instead of from the cold. “Well…anyways. We were playing and doing the standard attack-defense kind of play. You know—or I don’t know—uh, he had an Athena—3000 attack, plus 100 knowledge on the field, and he had activated a Golden Fleece—which lets you retrieve three cards from the graveyard and adds 200+ health. Anyways, I had played Aphrodite which though she only have 1000 attack can use “charm” so it lets you turn over all the cards in your opponent’s hand. So I saw Frank’s hand, and he had a really good one. He had a Pegasus equip and a Hercules and even a Cerberus. Then of course he had a dryad which is like, 50 attack 50 defense and a nature bonus. And I thought I had his moves figured out. With his hand I would equip the Athena with Pegasus, put Cerberus on defense, and then attack me. But…instead of doing what I expected he played the dryad in offense for some reason. It was so weird and I just couldn’t figure out why he did that and even though the game continued on past that it was the only thing I could think of. I could not understand why or how or for what purpose.”

               “And is that how you feel about me?” Will offered, searching Nico’s face for the answer.

               “No, that’s how I feel about me and my feelings. I’m just all over the place right now,” Nico said with a sigh before turning to the door of his cabin. “I just…I’ll talk to you later. I just need to think about everything for a bit.”

               Nico turned and entered into his cabin without another word. Will gathered himself up as much as possible and left Cabin 13 in favor of his own. But seeing it was a Haunted Horror Night, Will just gathered up his blanket and went out to find some peace and quiet as far away from the docks as possible. The dryads gave him a look as he entered the strawberry fields, but among the rows he found a spot and lay himself down for a nap. He must have fallen asleep at some point, because when he was stirred he found his siblings laying on his oversized blanket with him.

               “Hey, you okay?” Kayla asked him and Will looked over at where she was laying, head turned away from Will green-red hair splayed on the blanket. It was sort of bizarre though it was autumn elsewhere, the camp’s magic was particularly strong over the strawberry fields where the sun felt strong and hot and syrupy against his skin.

               “I’m alright. I had words with Nico. I think he might be mad, or upset. He couldn’t really explain it, but he isn’t mad at me. So, I guess that’s something,” Will said as he lifting his hand to gaze at his blue painted nails. He let his hand fall limp at his side.

               “You guys are your drama,” Austin muttered from where he was curled up on his side, close to Will but not quite touching.

               “We’ll get through it, I just have to believe in that,” Will told him.

               “Lee totally would’ve said something like that,” Kayla grumbled.

               “Michael would have grumbled about it,” Austin told her, a smile in his voice, but his shoulders were slumped sadly. “I miss them.”

               “Me too,” Will told them.

“Can you believe it’s been years? It feels…it feels like just yesterday. It pisses me off,” Kayla told both of them her voice quiet. “I want to punch both of them. And then hug them. Really hard.”

“Hug? Or punch?” Will asked, and both Kayla and Austin laughed.

Their laughter trailed off into quiet. There was only the sound of birds, the wind through the strawberry bushes, the distant buzz of insects to accompany them. Will didn’t think that there was a good answer to any of this. But huddled together on their blanket, just for a moment Will felt as if they were the only ones in the world, floating together down a stream with no direction. Will figured that sometimes wallowing in that pool was the best solution they could come up with.

“Sorry about the cabin,” Austin finally said.

“I’m not really mad about it. Lee and Michael would want us to be doing fun stuff like that, as often as possible,” Will promised him. “They’d certainly cackle to see my feathers rustled. No harm no foul. I love you guys, even when you drive me crazy.”

“Yeah,” Kayla said, with a small sniff. “Yeah. If he breaks up with you, that’ll be his loss. Because you’re the best.”

“Nah, you guys are the best,” Will told them, closing his eyes and smiling.

               “Will, could you come? Quickly?” Harley asked nervously. He looked pale and panicked, and though Will never liked seeing anyone in distress, but especially little kids. Will pulled away from the desk and stood up.

               “Is something wrong?” Will asked as he gathered up his emergency kit began jogging with him.

               They were on the edge of the lake with some other campers. Alice was crying, holding her hand which had been pierced with a fishing hook. Over on the side a naiad was laying down with her leg raised and her foot bent in a strange direction while her sisters all hissed at the campers from a safe distance away.

               Will quickly dealt with the fish hook, sending only a glimmer of his power in and wrapped Alice’s hand while giving her a lecture about respecting the mythical creatures of CHB. He also dealt with the naiad, who he apologized profusely to for the trouble, and hoped that she and her sisters wouldn’t feel privy to drowning any campers that he would need to revive.

               Exhausted, Will sat back on the dock like he had down a million times before. The autumn breeze crisp and clean as it flitted from the lake carrying with it the scent mist and strawberry. The sky was almost blindingly bright and blue, while the trees were just tinged with just a blush of color. Will blinked, and blinked once again as a particular fluffy cloud had him searching for answers. It all looked familiar. Very, very familiar. Déjà vu creeped across his skin, raising his hair.

               “Hey, can I sit?”

               Will turned his head, seeing Nico.  He was wearing his leather jacket, looking healthy and whole, and yet slightly worried.

               “Yeah, of course,” Will said, patting the dock next to him. He wanted to say no. To say he couldn’t, to run away, but he wanted to meet this head on. For both their sakes. They sat together for a while, not saying anything. Will reached out, touching Nico’s hand with his. Nico looked up, surprised, before turning his hand over so that their fingers curled together.

“Will…I…”

“Am I…is this…alright?” Will asked nervously, the words just coming out. He felt like his face was burning, like he was about to throw up.

“Hey Will?”

“Yeah?”

“I don’t think we should do this anymore,” Nico said, looking at him, looking through him. But Will noticed that he didn’t pull away from Will’s touch.

“Do what?” Will asked him, feeling like he was choking.

“This ducking around corners thing…I…” Nico said, seemingly struggling with how to explain he feelings, before meeting Will’s eyes. “I want to come out, I want to come out as your boyfriend. I’m not ashamed of you, and I don’t want you to feel like I am.”

Will wasn’t sure what Nico was expecting of him, but when Will reached out to cup Nico’s face he nearly flinched. Will looked at Nico in wonder, admiring him, unsure of how they had gotten to this point but half sure that this was a dream. Nico melted into Will’s touch, allowing him to press a kiss to the top of his head and pull him into a hug.

“I know you aren’t,” Will said as he hugged Nico tightly. “I never felt that way.  I like you and I’m with you, no matter what.”

“I like you too, Will,” Nico said, muffled against Will’s flannel, his arms holding Will tight.

“Can we just stay like this maybe,” Will said with a content sigh. “You are a perfectly huggable size.”

“Wait—what—” Nico demanded with an insulted squawk. He tried yank Will away, but Will was so entangled with him, that they both ended up crashing into the cold water. Nico spat water at him, and growled swears at Will as he lifted Nico up and dunked him once more, but Will couldn’t have minded less.

“You guys are so dumb,” Lou Ellen told them as they ended up in the infirmary later on, both with a wicked cold. Cecil was heating up soup while his siblings ran around and tried to deal with some wounded campers, Ellis was recuperating along with Nyssa from a nasty fight in the training arena as Billie Ng fretted over her, Chiron was reading the paper over by the desk.

“This would be my boyfriend’s fault, not mine,” Nico said, grumpy, ruffled, and looking out from the pile of blankets he had buried himself under.

“Losers,” Ellis grumbled under his breath, but looked somewhat pleased. Nyssa smiled and Billie jabbed her under the ribs. His siblings looked at each other and slapped high fives.

“This I can’t argue,” Will said with a wide grin.

Chiron just hummed, turned the page, and smiled.

[mudandhoney705-blog]

Meet the Maker: 20 Questions With Yours Truly

Hey gang,

I thought I would take some time to introduce myself this week. I figured, if you are curious about our products, you might want to know a little bit about who is making them, and also, who is writing this blog. So here you go: 20 questions. Asked by me, answered by me(that should make it easy).

Question #1. Who the heck are you?

My name is Nathan Dale. I'm a Father to a 2 year old boy, a husband, son, and brother to 5 awesome siblings. My family and I live in Innisfil, Ontario(That's in Canada, eh?). I'm 31 years old. I run my own business(this one) from home, which I operate through the week as much as I can(although at times it is a 24/7 thing), and I work long hours on weekends at my second job, to make up for the time off through the week. My interests include Soap(obvi), fatherhood, self-improvement, fitness, scotch, tattoos, music, and hockey(Go Leafs Go!). I think that about sums it up.

Question #2. Where did you grow up?

I grew up in the town of Bradford, only a 20 minute drive from my house now. At the time, it was a small place, mainly made up of descendants of Portuguese, Dutch, and English settlers. I grew up working on farms around the area, as that is pretty much all that was out there at the time. Bradford has exploded over the last 5 or 10 years, but it is still a farm town at heart. So much so, that they celebrate every year with a carrot festival. I loved working on farms. Fewer things feel better than working hard outside all day, then coming home to a long bath and falling asleep when your face meets the pillow. I am thankful for that experience.

Question #3. How did you do in school?

Terrible. I dropped out of high school – twice. But I went back and finished as an adult. It was then that I realized how easy the work was, if I just focused on it and got it done. It was also when I discovered my passion for writing, which I am now trying to put to use.

Question #4. Did you go to college/university?

Nope. When I turned 19, I had already moved out of my parent's place, and was working full time. I spent my early 20s working in a factory. I hated the work, but I met a lot of great friends on the night shift who I still talk to today, as well as the woman who would become my wife. I also learned a trade. I'd say things worked out pretty well.

Question #5. Why did you start your own business?

Since I started 'adulting', I have always been an overtime/side hustle kind of guy. Or, at the very least, someone who wants to keep busy. Before my son was born, I played in a band, I had a golf membership, and worked overtime almost every weekend – between gigs! Since then, things have changed. When I decided to make a go of it, I had been looking for a good side hustle, and since I was already making soap, and there seemed to be a lot interest in the sort of product I could bring to market, I thought “why not?”.

Question #6. What's the deal with the band?

The summer of 2011 was a big deal for me. My wife and I got married, and I started playing in my first band. I had played drums since I was 13, but never in a group. We were called Sleepless, and we were. We played originals, and never really made any money, but we played our butts off, and went on small 2-3 week-long tours. Some of the best memories I have are from the 4 years I spent behind the kit, and I hope to do it again someday.

Question #7. Did you say 5 siblings?!

Yep! I'm one of 6. 3 boys, 3 girls, spaced out over 18 years. All with the same biological parents, who just celebrated their 43rd wedding anniversary. Happy Anniversary, Mom and Pops!

Question #8. How do you balance being a dad and working 2 jobs?

That, my friends, is another blog entry altogether.

Question #9. Have you done much traveling?

Not really, no. I've done a lot of sight-seeing in this area(4hr radius), and I've been to Montreal a handful of times, and the Maritime Provinces once. When my wife turned 30 we took a trip to Cuba, which was fun, but the resort-style vacation isn't my cup of tea. I'd rather explore, and meet locals, find hole-in-the-wall pubs, and take in other cultures.

Question #10. If you could go anywhere, where would it be?

It's a toss-up. I've always wanted to hike through Scotland and do a scotch tour of some kind, but I live in Canada, one of the most beautiful countries in the world, and I've only seen 0.001% of it. Especially now that I'm a dad, I'd love to pack the family up and spend a month or two, driving coast to coast.

Question #11. You cheer for the buds, eh?

Sure do. I have memories of visiting my grandparents when I was really young, and the Leaf game always being on in the background. I can remember my Papa yelling at the T.V., “Shoot the puck!”.

I started out as just a hockey fan in general, with as many as 6 'favourite' teams. But, the more other people told me the Leafs stunk, the more I liked them, and wanted them to win. I know, “losers since '67, blah blah blah”. But one day, it's gonna happen!

Question #12. Are you a vegan?

My soaps are. I am not.

Question #13. What kind of music do you listen to?

My taste has changed a number of times. That's one of the best parts about music. If a certain song comes on by an artist I used to listen to quite a bit at a different time in my life – Bam! It can put me right back into that time, a specific moment, even. Lately, I've been listening to a lot of newer indie folk, but I'm also revisiting a lot of classic Motown. I guess I feel the need to offset all the sad-sap folk with something upbeat. Both of these genres are generally kid-friendly, so its great to put on a playlist and not have to worry about what song is next when my son and I are hanging out.

Question #14. What is the most interesting thing about you?

I would have to say it's my contradictions. For instance, I'm a 6'3, 240lb bearded man with a rugged exterior, but I make soap. I love smoking cigars, but I use all-natural toothpaste. I drink scotch(when I can afford it), but I wake up early to make blueberry pancakes and dance to The Jackson 5. I could go on, but you're probably picking up what I'm laying down. Variety is the spice of life, er, something.

Question #15. What is your biggest regret?

Lame. Next?

Question #16. What is your favourite book?

The Obstacle Is The Way: The Timeless Art Of Turning Trials Into Triumph, by Ryan Holiday. The title says it all, really. Holiday uses historical figures to demonstrate how successful people not only survive adversity, but find ways to use the very thing that is stopping them from reaching their goals, to their advantage. I would recommend it to anyone.

Question #17. What is your favourite movie?

I like epic period pieces, like Gladiator, Gangs of New York, and 12 Years A Slave. Slap-stick comedies are good. But I watch more Dora and The Wiggles nowadays.

Questions #18. What is your guilty pleasure?

I know all of the lyrics to Alanis Morissette's Jagged Little Pill album. It's just really good writing, okay?!

Question #19. If you weren't making soap, what would you be doing?

There are a few other things I could see myself doing. I've always liked the idea of restoring old furniture. I'd likely be playing music, albeit a quieter instrument. Maybe a podcast about fatherhood, or modern men's lifestyle in general. It's hard to say.

Question #20. Where do you see yourself in 5 years?

The dreaded, yet standard performance review question! Look, this is how I see it: If life ended tomorrow, I'd be happy. Not happy to die, but happy with what I had done with my time. I like how things are right now, and I'm grateful for what I have. That being said, while I am here, I am going to continue working. Working on myself, working on my family, my house, my business... all aspects. If you are given the time and the opportunity, you owe it to those who weren't, to make the best life you can. So, in 5 years, If my family and I are healthy, I'll be happy. If Mud & Honey is still in business, I'll be stoked, and if both have flourished, I'll be ecstatic.

Thanks for reading, folks. Please leave a comment or criticism in the comment section below!

[illuminating-dragons]

Fading Scars (12/?): Love In Time

Summary:  Some headcanons on the original generation's love stories.

Harry & Ginny

           Harry didn’t cry when Ginny told him she’d been accepted to play for the Hollyhead Harpies, so she’d be travelling a lot. He cried three days later, when he offered to break up with her and she held him for hours, promising that she still loved him.

           It took years to forgive himself for the year of leaving her, all the uncertainty, all the time he hadn’t been in love with her. It took years for her to forgive herself for not realizing how much needless guilt he carried.

           When Harry has bad days, he goes and walks around London for hours and hours, sometimes under the Invisibility Cloak. When he gets home, Ginny makes him tea and nearly smothers him in blankets, even when it’s a hot summer day. She still has that coldness in herself too.

           When Ginny has bad days, she can’t stop herself from crying. Harry doesn’t freeze in front of her tears. Instead, he cuddles her on his lap and rubs her back. When they have children, he lets them play in the same room; he was worried at first, but James and Al and Lily just understand that “Mummy’s blue” and they let her calm down and come back to them at her own pace, and then they all play a rousing game of Hide and Seek.

           Harry was very unaware of his own body before he dated Ginny. He’d never been all that enthused with sex, never found the need to draw his curtains as often as his roommates had (he would always quietly retreat to the common room if he saw anyone with them closed). He was even less aware of girl’s bodies. Ginny taught him how to enjoy sex, and he learned to, but it’s always been more about giving her pleasure. Their sex is hardly ever serious; they laugh, they’re playful, and sometimes it just settles into cuddles and tickles in the middle. Harry’s also made it clear that he’s okay with Ginny enjoying herself without him, although watching her is one of his favourite activities.

           When Harry and Ginny announced their engagement, Molly Weasley whipped up a feast immediately and sent out Patronuses to their entire family. Near the end of the night, Harry came to thank her and Arthur again for giving him permission to ask their daughter to marry him. “It’s like I’m really part of the family now,” he said.

           “You’ve been real since I made you fudge for Christmas,” Arthur replied, and that was the end of that conversation.

           The week before Harry proposed (though Ginny didn’t know it at the time), Ginny went to Godric’s Hollow alone. It was a beautiful summer day, but nothing could quite erase the sadness of the graveyard.      She went over to an old white marble gravestone. There were two newer monuments on either side; one was a tiny dogwood tree with a plaque in front enscribed ‘Snuffles’, and a multicoloured geode on the other, with the initials NT and RL engraved in it.

           Ginny took a deep breath. “Alright. I know that you don’t know me Mr. and Mrs. Potter. And Harry and I weren’t together when you were alive, Sirius. And we were broken up for a lot of time Dora…Remus…but I promise I love your kid. He’s brilliant, and he’s amazing, and he’s so good to me. I’m sure you’re really proud of him wherever you are. I promise I’ll take care of him, and I’ll let him take care of me too. I just wanted to tell you before I asked him.” She felt a bit silly. She knew they were gone, that they’d crossed over. They probably couldn’t hear her.

           But when she stood, she swore she could smell lilies.

Ron & Hermione

           Ron doesn’t write down any notes about their days. Their anniversaries, their big moments, nothing. He’s never been good friends with the written word. Instead he measures them by a special set of hourglasses that pour beads instead of sand, cascading down slowly in their kitchen. He rarely needs them, but they’re pretty, and there’s something truly satisfying about turning them over at the end of a holiday, looking forward to the next.

           Ron used to take his bad days out on Hermione. Hermione took out her bad days on Ron. That stopped before they were married. Now they retreat to the garden, working on it the Muggle way, except for the winter plants Luna brought back for them from Tibet. Sometimes they’re together, sometimes it’s just one, but it always ends with tea and Ron’s biscuits at the kitchen table, because that’s where they get the most sun.

           Crookshanks, of course, lives with them, but when Hugo is five he begs for a puppy. They have the room, and Crookshanks is the one who chooses a small brown puppy who quickly grows into an enormous dog. Chocolate and Crookshanks become fast friends, and when Chocolate finally reaches her full growth Crookshanks sometimes sleeps on her back.

           Sex surprised both of them. For Ron, his only experience was with Lavender, whose passion had been grabby and intense. Hermione had a few quiet moments with Krum, but those were more about holding and being held. When they lie together, it becomes about exploring, finding what works, what doesn’t. They adventure, they explore, they try everything they can. They make love to music, they have sex in the day, and they finally feel comfortable in their own skin and desires.

           When Hermione found out she was pregnant, she was worried. Ron had grown up with a Mum who stayed at home, and Hermione respected that. But it wasn’t what she wanted. She wanted to keep working, to keep pushing for rights taken for granted by some and desperately needed by others. So she was relieved when the first thing out of Ron’s mouth (after a cry of joy that brought tears to her eyes) was, “do you mind if I start working part-time? I’d like to be home with them.”

           So they worked out a schedule; after her year of maternity leave, Hermione walked with the children to daycare for the morning, and Ron picked them up at lunch.  

Neville & Hannah

           Neville didn’t date much at Hogwarts. He’d had a brief crush on Ginny Weasley, and another on Ernie MacMillan, but they hadn’t lasted. He’d struggled so much with feeling like anyone would like him. Friendless, brainless, helpless, hopless[1]…he wouldn’t date him.

           But then the war happened, and things like that didn’t seem to matter. With Dumbledore and Harry gone, and Voldemort breathing down their necks through the Carrows and Snape, Neville had no reason to look in the mirror. He had to take care of things, had to save people, had to keep fighting and hoping and refusing to bow.

           And Hannah was there with him, her body bent from curses and grief, her home empty, her eyes haunted. But she was still so kind, so keen to help people stop suffering. She and Neville would stay awake long into the night, supporting the lonely and hurt. Sometimes she would fall asleep with her head in his lap, and he would stroke the tangles out of her hair. Sometimes he would fall asleep on her shoulder, drifting to a quiet lullaby.

           When the Battle was done, Neville went to check on Hannah. “Get some sleep, love,” he said.

           He hadn’t meant to say it. Hadn’t realized that it was no longer scary to admit that he cared for her. Somehow he’d discovered that he was, in fact, likeable. And she was loveable.

           Hannah smiled back tremulously and took his hand. “I’ll only be able to if you’re there.”

           So Neville conjured some cushions in Greenhouse One and they fell asleep together under the Flutterby bushes.

           Hannah started working at the Leaky Cauldron on Aberforth Dumbledore’s reference [“the girl made my place feel cheerful, she’ll do brilliantly”]. She loved the pub, loved seeing all the new people, and it helped to pay for her tuition at a Muggle university. She’d gotten her NEWTs, she could have easily gone straight to working as a Healer, but magic wasn’t enough. She wanted to understand the body from a Muggle perspective.

           Years later, she would coach Lucy Weasley through Muggle university applications, but for now Neville would sit in on a couple of classes with her and they would have supper at the pub before they went back to their little cottage.

           Hannah and Neville take a while to get around to getting married. It’s a little unusual, but neither see the need. It’s not until Freddie Weasley, Neville’s best student, asks if Madam Hannah would like to be married that Neville realizes he should probably ask. Hannah was agreeable, and they had a quiet wedding with their closest friends. His students give them enough plants to start another garden as gifts.

           They don’t have children of their own. They’re happy in each other, happy to work side by side whatever they do. But just before Neville’s twenty-fifth year of teaching, they meet a student who goes straight to the Hospital Wing first week of class. They adopt Bailey and his nameless infant sister by the Christmas holidays, and they name the baby Mary Alice.

Luna & Rolf

           Luna’s heart was broken long before she was ever old enough to fall in love, and that shapes the way she feels about people leaving. Harry was first pushed to fix the old mirrors when Luna couldn’t travel with Rolf for a month due to a nasty cough, and they used them near constantly.

           Rolf’s mother Nadeen was suspicious of the British witch her son had fallen in love with, naturalist or not. Nadeen was married, after all, to New Scamander’s second son, and knew the gossip about him choosing an Egyptian bride. To her relief, her daughter-in-law doesn’t treat her like an exotic creature, and they get along very well, helped along by a mutual adoration of art and of Rolf. Nadeen weaves them a blanket every Christmas, and Luna sends one of her paintings. They don’t talk about religion, but Luna wears a headscarf when she visits, and joins her in meditation. She never converts (and Rolf himself isn’t practicing), but she respects the depth of Nadeen’s faith in a world where magic is allowed but beliefs in a higher power are frowned upon.

           Luna knew Rolf was the right one by the way he talked about having kids. He said that children were fascinating, and that he wanted to let the children they had lead how he parented. He even offered to take Polyjuice so he could be the one that experienced pregnancy, but Luna was alright with being pregnant.

           Luna developed her way of coping with bad days before she ever met Rolf, so he was a little surprised when she vanished one day without telling him. She returned a few hours later, soaking wet. The next time she goes to dance in the rain, he Apparates with her.

           Luna derives a lot of pleasure from sex, but she doesn’t know how to ask for it as often as she wants it. Rolf is the one who learns to speak her language, and to let her know that she’s allowed to have those desires and he’s more than happy to fulfill them.

George & Angelina

           Angelina didn’t forget about their kiss all those months of the war. But it wasn’t the right time, and she couldn’t bring herself to be there for George as much as she should have. She regrets that at first, but George finally sets her straight. He didn’t want her there during the war. Knowing she was protecting her family and keeping her head down was all he needed to know.

           As much as she loved Quidditch, Angelina doesn’t pursue it the way that Ginny and Oliver did. She thought about being a Healer, but she can’t stand to see people in pain the same way Hannah Abbot can stand it. During the war, she discovers her true passion; childcare. Looking after several Muggleborn refugees at her home translated into a daycare after the war for any children below Hogwarts age. Some of her clients can pay, others can’t, but Angelina adores her work, especially when it lets her spend more time with her own children. She just wishes that George wouldn’t bring so much merchandise when he drops by.

         George and Angelina have an understanding with Katie and Oliver Wood. They’re not always open, but there are definitely nights when the four of them end up in bed together. Besides being incredibly hot, it helps to work out some of the frustration left over from the Quidditch field (Oliver can be persuaded to submit), and heals the cracks where someone is missing. They have their own relationship now.

           When George and Angelina moved in together, there were no mirrors. Angelina coaxed George into buying one, and by the time Freddie is born there are enough reflective surfaces for the baby to be constantly entertained by the other baby in the mirror. George keeps his hair short though, above his ear, just to be sure.

Percy & Audrey

           On his first day at the Ministry after the war, Audrey and Percy bumped into each other at in the elevator. Percy was instantly smitten, to the point that he apologized when Audrey spilled her tea on him.

           Audrey is three years older than Percy. She graduated the year before he became a Prefect, and doesn’t know much about him from school. Percy is profoundly grateful for that.

           Percy enjoys the bondage portion of BDSM (both ways), but he’s unwilling to inflict or receive pain. Audrey can work with that.

           A year after they started dating, Audrey was going through the Department of Magical Law and discovered piles of falsified records of Muggleborns and Order sympathizers. It takes her less than five seconds to recognize Percy’s handwriting from his love letters (one a day on her desk), and five hours to read through each and every one, marvelling at the careful, clever work. Percy had never planned to tell her, and was very surprised when she brought it up. He was even more surprised when she asked him to marry her.

           Any ambition beyond being a good person again vanished from Percy’s mind after the war. He still worked as hard as ever, but he went as far as to avoid promotion. Audrey, a halfblood whose mother had been placed in Azkaban for crossing her Death Eater boss, had even more fire in her blood. She worked to climb the ranks, and Percy felt mostly content to stand by and let her.

           That was, until she ran for Minister for Magic after Kingsley Shacklebolt retired.

           Percy had to gather all his courage to face his quickly rearing insecurities, and he tried to search for why he was so upset. He looked at his daughters, who were both at Hogwarts now, both growing into fine young women who fought to be better than they were.

           And that was the problem. In giving up his ambition, he’d stopped fighting to make himself better.

           By the time Audrey was elected nearly unanimously, Percy had changed jobs. He was back in the Department of International Magical Cooperation, and he had big plans to make sure that his wife’s international alliances were the best they could possibly be. In the years to come, he would champion Lucy’s ideas about technology, consulting with witches and wizards all over the globe to create a committee on magic’s interaction with Muggle systems, and how they could smooth out any ‘bugs’(he really hoped Lucy was joking about the computers being full of creepy crawlies. He couldn’t stand them).

           Once he straightened out the filing system. What on earth had they been doing all these years?

Draco & Astoria

           While Draco was still doing community service, he was given just enough to live on. Harry helped him out with extra money, and Draco swallowed his pride, thanked him, and bought Astoria jewelry. She loved sparkly things, and didn’t care whether they were imitation or not. Later in their married life, he was able to afford real rubies, diamonds and sapphires, but her favourite necklace was one with sparkly beads he’d given her on their very first real date.

           Astoria and Draco are in a Dom/Sub relationship. It’s a good thing that Astoria had plenty of experience as a Dom, otherwise she wouldn’t be able to tell the fine line between Draco’s pleasure-centred masochism and his occasional desire to be punished, to hurt, to cleanse his soul of guilt. She doesn’t let him get away with that after his first subdrop; it’s about pleasure and trust. As far as she’s concerned, absolution doesn’t happen in bed.

           Draco was terrified the first time he’d met Astoria’s parents. After all, he was a Death Eater, a Malfoy; her parents must disapprove of him. He continued to be terrified throughout the visit, but not because her parents hated him.

           No, it was because Astoria’s parents were stark raving mad.

           Her father was a simple kind of mental; he’d named every object in the house, but other than that he was a very pleasant man, and confided in Draco that he’d once been attracted to the Death Eater philosophy. “I couldn’t commit,” he said. “I got out before it was too late, but I was lucky. You can get over it, lad. It doesn’t poison your mind forever.”

           Her mother, on the other hand, was a whole other kind. She told outrageous stories that Draco couldn’t help believing, given her level of detail and conviction. When Draco accidentally spilled a few drops of tea on his sleeve, she screamed and tried to call a Healer, worrying that her ‘future son-in-law was going to be scalded for life!’ It took a while to calm her, but Draco couldn’t help feeling pleased about the ‘future son-in-law’ part.

           When they left, Astoria squeezed his hand. ‘They liked you.”

           “I like them,” Draco replied. He paused. “Were any of your mother’s stories true?”

           “A few of them. Trouble is, her memory’s starting to go and we’re not sure which ones are made up anymore. She’s remembering more from when she was young, so the ones when she was a girl are new, but so are the ones from before she met Dad.”

           Draco paused for a moment, content to just walk, worried about asking the question.

           “You can ask, Drake, it’s okay.”

           Draco flushed. “Your mother…”

           “She was born a man,” Astoria confirmed. “She went through a potion regime that gave her the ability to bear children. She carried me and my sister. Was it the height?”

           “No, it was her throat. She still has a bit of an Adam’s apple.” Draco put his arm around her. “I’m happy they liked me. I was a bit worried.”

           “They’d be mad not to. Well, madder.”

           Draco looked at her, astonished.

           Astoria giggled. “I know they’re not sane, Draco. But they’re not hurting anyone, and they know enough to realize when something is too far. They’ll be fine for now.”

           Astoria calls him Drake or Dragon when she’s feeling playful. Draco calls her Tori except when they’re in bed (or he wants to go to bed).  

            When Draco begins to work in the prison system, Astoria follows him. Her magical architecture background is vital to creating a reasonable blueprint (and for creating temporary prison quarters for the prisoners). She also helps Draco go through the files and try to categorize crimes in a new way, to find patterns of redemption and patterns of complete hopelessness. The work is hard on both of them, but they solve that by joining a Muggle singing group. No one knows or cares who Draco is there, and it turns out he loves to sing.

Bill & Fleur

           Fleur knew that Bill was the one when a year had passed and he hadn’t made her Change. Her Veela blood was diluted; she was only a quarter, but it left her with a few instincts. One of them was Changing when a man made her feel insignificant in his life. Fleur never Changed their entire marriage.

           Bill is the only Weasley child who actually remembers the first Wizarding War. He remembers his uncles, his father’s best friend Timothy Bones, even meeting Lily Evans Potter once when she was pregnant and looking at a house in the area for her and her husband. He rushed back to England when the Second one started, and it was only Fleur who really saw how scared he was, and how hard he tried to hide it from his siblings, how much he felt like a child again.

           Everyone thinks that Bill is the luckiest man on earth because he has a beautiful wife. “Part Veela, hm? Lucky boy!”

           Bill does think it’s lucky. He feels lucky that Fleur trusted him with the secret that she was gray-asexual, and that when they do have sex she lets him see how vulnerable she feels, how insecure. He’s grateful for the chance to teach her how much he loves her, how beautiful she truly is, and for the fact she’s willing to bear him children.

           Shell Cottage was a safe house during the war, with exhausted, hurt, broken people coming through when they were home (and sometimes when they were out on missions). When the war ends, they buy incense and open every window during a storm, washing out the old hurts and fears, hoping to have a clean place again. They still build new rooms for their children, just in case. They can bear the strain of memory. Their children shouldn’t have to.

           Bill understands Lou deeply. He’s okay with using ‘he’, but there are certainly days when he doesn’t quite feel like a male. He buys Muggle women’s clothes, not just dresses, and he and Fleur spend some afternoons playing dress-up.        

Dean & Seamus

           They weren’t a couple at Hogwarts, no matter what anyone says. Dean was happy when he was with Ginny Weasley and (very briefly) with Michael Corner, and Seamus was coming to terms with being gay. They didn’t become a couple until the day after the Battle, when they took a walk outside the Hogwarts grounds, down the path to Hogsmeade, hand in hand without thinking.

           When Dean finds out about his father, three weeks before their wedding, he bursts into tears and immediately tells his mother. The idea that a father he’d hated for so long for leaving had been killed trying to protect his family, that he wasn’t a Muggle but a wizard, sent him reeling. Seamus offered to put off their wedding, but Dean refused. When he walks down the aisle, he goes down arm in arm with his mother, and his father’s watch, broken in the Death Eater attack, firmly in his pocket.

           The wizarding world has a mystifying attitude towards gay people. In that no one really cares, but no one really talks about it either. Dean and Seamus have no trouble getting a marriage license, but to their shock they discover that they are still expected by Seamus’ family to acquire a female in order to have kids. Neither of them want kids; instead, they adopt several cats and go to football and Quidditch games together.

           Before he starts training Hogwarts’ football teams, Dean works at a Muggle women’s shelter. When he realizes there are no equivalent institutions for wizards, he starts one. It sounds simple, but there are so many more levels to the problem that he needs help. Luckily, Fleur Delacour and Parvati Patil are happy about the prospect, and they help develop it. When he isn’t coaching, Dean spends his time helping witches change their identities, relocate, lobby for more laws about prosecuting abusers (which has Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy’s attention) and teaching the children who ran with their mothers how to draw, and how to protect themselves from bad people. Seamus is very proud of him, and he brings toys to the shelter from Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes. He also participates in the pickups and drop-offs; he’s learned to control his explosions, and he can channel an Irish temper just as well as his mother.

           Dean is an incorrigible romantic when it comes to sex. Seamus lets him get away with it, because the romance does make him feel needed. He still won’t let Dean bring roses home, though. He has to draw the line somewhere, and he really hates that flower.

           Dean understands, and brings him carnations instead.

Cho & Chris

           The war damn near broke Cho. She gave up on trying to be strong, gave up on being brave. She started to drink and didn’t stop for two straight days. When she woke, to her surprise she was in a room with Viktor Krum. Viktor handed her a Hangover Cure and a Portkey ticket.

           “You need some time,” he said.

           Cho remembered how much Cedric had liked Viktor. She took the ticket.

           She travelled to Florence. Hot and sunny and far away from the Wizarding world, Cho gradually came back to life. She wrote her mother only to tell her yes, she was still alive, learned Italian, and tried gelato from every store in the city until she found her favourite.

           She gained ten pounds, and for the first time in her life she didn’t care.

           On the other hand, when an adorable Canadian student named Chris let her cut in line at the gelato store (“ladies first, please”; she found out later that was his attitude towards orgasms), she did agree to go on a run with him. They ran up a hill outside the city, and Cho was exhausted when they got to the top, but they watched a beautiful sunset together.

           When Chris left, she followed him. They backpacked across Europe together, and when Chris quietly brought up that he wanted to see London, Cho returned with him.

           To her shock, Chris wanted to contact an old friend of his. Dean Thomas.

           Dean was a second cousin through his Mum. Chris knew about the Wizarding World, and wasn’t surprised at all when Cho revealed she was a witch. “I thought you might be. But you didn’t want to talk about it, so I didn’t.”

           Chris ended up staying in England. He got a visa with the help of the Ministry (Kingsley had an excellent relationship with the Prime Minister), and he and Cho lived in Berkshire. Chris got a job teaching physical education, and when his visa ran out they got married. They spent a lot of time travelling together in the holidays, and Cho ended up starting to film their adventures. Her wand stayed in her pack, but she used it less and less as the years went on.

           Cho stays in touch with Harry, and she tells her daughter Tina about Cedric. Chris would have felt jealous, but he knows his wife loves him now. That’s all he really needs. And he knows that she needs to explain to her daughter (and to herself) how those romances changed her, made her, broke her.

           Cho was taught that sex was for procreation, nothing more. Chris teaches her otherwise, and they run the gamut of sexual experience before they settle on positions, times, toys and safe words. Their daughter isn’t born until five years after their marriage.

           When Tina is little, she has to make a family tree of flags of where she comes from. There isn’t much room for Cho’s Chinese and Welsh flags, Chris’ Canadian, Mi’kmaq[2] and Scottish flags, and finally the England flag, but they do their best.

           Cho and Chris compete against each other, running for fun and for prizes. Chris is strong in triathlons; Cho takes a while to learn how to ride a bike properly. But she leaves him in the dust during marathons, including the one she ran four months pregnant.

[gossanyi]

Hi all!

I know it’s been a very long time since I last wrote. Over a year in fact. And so much has changed in my life that the person writing this post is not the same person who wrote the last one. I’m now a stay at home mom of 2 beautiful children. But that’s all I feel like I am. I go from changing one dirty diaper to another. I feed, burp, clean spit up, sing “Wheels on the bus” at least 100 times a day and desperately try to figure out the cause of each toddler tantrum. I didn’t realize that I was in a “mom rut” until my husband pointed it out. After his last 4 wheeling adventure into the jungle where he helped bring supplies and medical aid to the people of the small villages in the interior parts of Borneo, he couldn’t stop talking about the amazing experience. His truck and his 4 wheeling has been his passion ever since I can remember. It’s such a big part of who he is and he is happier laying on his back under that truck than anywhere else. I began to ask myself, “what makes me that happy? What makes me that proud?” I don’t even have any hobbies anymore. That’s when he brought up my neglected blog. It’s a small thing, but it’s something that I used to enjoy and take real pride in. So I thought it was time to bring it back to life. It may look different from the globe-trotting experiences I have shared in the past, but it will still be a reflection of the important things in my life. As much as I love bringing joy and amusement to those who read it, it is ultimately for me. It will hopefully serve as an archive of stories from my life that I and my family will cherish in the future. So here it is. The next chapters in the Gossanyi family story. 

I have not been a parent for too long, less than 2 years. Well, I guess some times it feels like I’ve been a parent for an eternity. But in those 2 years, I have learned so much about children, parenthood and life. I have been blindingly happy at times, and hopelessly sad at others. But I would like to share a few things I have learned. Here are just a few of what I call the “Universal Truths” of parenthood. Even if it’s not true for every family, it’s true for us every time. 

1. Whenever you see a toddler screaming in public, you no longer think “poor baby!” You now think “oh, those poor parents!”

-Before I had kids, when I saw a toddler or a baby crying in line at Target, it would break my heart. I would think “all he wants is a candy bar! Poor baby!” or “oh, the poor little guy must not be feeling well”. I would give anything to make that child feel better, because nothing breaks your heart like a crying baby. But now, after having my own child scream in a store, on a plane and even in church, I realize that the real victims are the parents. That poor parent is probably doing everything they can to keep their child calm while still sticking to their rules. I also realized that it actually takes a lot of bravery to run all of your errands or travel with young children. I applaud those parents for even leaving the house. And if your toddler is screaming and kicking while lying on their back in the middle of the frozen food section, just know we all understand and feel your pain.

2. You begin to appreciate being alone in the bathroom like never before

-Something I never considered before having children is that I would never be able to use the bathroom in peace again. Never again would I be able to go without a child banging on the door, wondering what my toddler is breaking while he’s out of sight in the other room, or having to sing “Wheels on the bus” at the top of my lungs to keep the baby from screaming. I don’t actually remember the last time I was able to close the bathroom door. I also don’t remember my last shower that was more than 5 minutes long because that’s the length of the toddler attention span while watching Dora the Explorer. 

3. You’ll never be able to read a book or watch a movie the same way again

As difficult as kids can be, I must admit that eventually, they do sleep. Alone time does exist! Even if only in small doses. This alone time is of course not spent doing useful things such as showering, doing dishes or scrubbing the toilet. It’s usually spent flat on my back on the couch reading a book or watching a movie. Before I had kids, I loved to watch thriller and horror movies. No one told me that after having kids I would be so hormonal that any movie without a happy ending would be unbearable to watch. I just keep thinking “that’s someone’s kid!” and burst into uncontrollable tears. My husband finds this totally ridiculous, but once the tears start, it’s impossible to stop them. I won’t even talk about how much time I spent crying while reading Unbroken. 

The list will have to end there for now. Ben’s waking up from his nap. But I want to leave you with this. Even though I write mostly about the difficulties and stress of raising children, I love them more than anything. They’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me and even though I may not realize it in the difficult moments, there is no where else I would rather be. So I’m going to end each blog with a tale of momentous joy that makes me remember how grateful I am to be a mom. 

Nothing warms my heart more than watching my son play. He plays with his whole heart and being. Everything he experiences is new, wonderful and exciting. Yesterday he was playing and exploring outside in the backyard. I heard the familiar roar of thunder and knew a storm was on the way. I opened the back door to run out and grab him when Josh held me back. He said “just let him play in the rain”. Here in Brunei, we get lots of rain, but it is warm, tropical rain. As soon as the first drops began to fall, Ben looked up at the sky, opened his mouth and let out the most heart warming giggle. He then proceeded to dance in every puddle he could find. How could I have possibly thought of taking this beautiful moment away? In that moment, everything else could wait while I watched the pure joy of a toddler playing in the rain. 

Until next time,

Selamat Tinggal!

[mlephoebe]

In this blog post you are going to discover the story of how I, Phoebe Scovell, became head of tape. A skill that will stand strong on my c.v.

July 19th I left with little sense of direction to Steventon, Oxfordshire for what little did I know at the time would be one of the best decisions I made that summer. I was heading to Truck, not too sure what my voluntary role would be but was heading with my head held high as this would be my first festival that I was going to be at for both build, break and the event itself. It would also be the first time I camped at a festival, also the second time in my life I camped and it had been a good 6 years since I ever had, so I was not too sure how to handle it, looking back now I see how pathetic I was thinking as I bloody loved camping, and genuinely as crazy as it sounds MISS MY TENT.

Taking this part to give a major shout out to the absolute gem of a lady who saved me on the bus from Oxford to Steventon, she lived a 2minute walk from the site so practically walked me there from the bus stop and I cannot tell you how wonderfully kind that was of her as I instantly felt welcomed and I hadn’t even made it on sight yet.

So upon arrival I was told to head to event control and ask for Conor Burns, who sadly is not related to the simpsons character Mr Burns :’( Wednesday was kind of a floaty day for me with not much to do, which was nice as it allowed me to explore the sight and get to know a few people and to most importantly get my tent set up, without having to rush as let’s be honest I had no idea what on earth I was doing, and it was obviously very obvious as one wonderful guy who funnily enough was building the glamping tents had seen my struggles and came to rescue, a not so good looking tent. For the rest of the day I helped bag powder paint which would be used on Saturday at the paint party on the main stage. This happened to be a very messy task, something we had not realised would be so hard to scrub off, but despite this we all looked very colourful and hipster (:

I was introduced to Emily on Wednesday, Emily was head of artist liaison, and I was introduced to her as that is where I would be placed that weekend. So after dinner we headed to bed and Thursday would be the proper beginning of my time at Truck. 9am I met with Conor to be taken to the artist accreditation and liaison cabin where I would be based for the rest of the weekend, I was greeted by Callum and Emily who are the most lovely, funniest duo everrr. The morning was slightly slow but it soon sped up when the deliveries began arriving, and boy did I not realise how much money went into just alcohol for artist riders, I was definitely taken back. We had a fridge known as Callum’s fridge and if anyone messed it up, oh boy would they be told XD when filling the fridge with drink and food I discovered what a life saver production lines were, team work quite honestly makes dream work as I can tell you now crates of beer and water get extremely heavy after a while.

Thursday would also be the day when everyone else in the artist liaison/accreditation fam would turn up and I had no idea until then how much of a family everyone was on site, when I came home and explained to people that the majority of those on sight were actually voluntary not paid, a lot of my friends were very confused and thought that was nuts, and I guess it is but honestly I felt this equal level playing field just brought everyone closer together, stage crew, production, artist liaison even Jess from catering we all just mixed so well and it honestly was just a family feel, which was great when it came to working together. This day was spent making up all the riders for Friday, bagging up crisp and chocolate selections as well as putting the right amount of cans and bottles into each crate or bag etc. this came to be very handy when it came to the rush of Friday as it was all done ready for us. It was also great as despite the fact I had never been a part of artist liaison before it did not matter we all did the same and I felt that was what was really lovely there was no boss to say so it made going into that department so relaxing and easy as it quite literally was getting a job done with mates. Also what was great to see was how most of the people on site did not do this line of work as their day job, this honestly was great though as I feel it was a big factor as to how well the team worked as everyone was there quite frankly because they enjoy it.

Friday, Day 1 of Truck: The day that would change my life forever, I was given a role that came with a heavy name to carry, that was ‘HEAD OF TAPE’ now I know what you’re thinking, this is a joke right? Well, that Is where you are wrong. Head of tape is part of a bigger work force which includes head of sticking, head of signs and head of production all very important roles which work together to produce the signage for main stage dressing rooms. This was not just a role that would last a day but the entire weekend, and it sure was an honour to be a part of such a well oiled team, we could have won gold at the tape Olympics, I’m sure.

The weather let’s just say was not in favour of us, and not just for Friday but for the whole weekend. But that honestly didn’t seem to phase anyone, only when it came to the fact that all I had packed were mainly trainers which I later realised was a rookie error, but luckily it was not just me in this silly situation so we all had to bare with it.

 I must say however I learned to love the mud and honestly felt like I was 5 again, the muddier I got the more I wanted to walk in it and loose my feet to the unknown. At Truck we were all very much based on main stage when it came to accommodating our artists, we would set up dressing rooms at the Market and Nest stages, but accommodation kind of fell under the stage hands at those stages, mainly due to none of us having a buggy and having to trek the riders to each stage which it is here that I just want to state that I am still majorly boggled as to how I did not gain at least 10pounds in muscle whilst on the Truck sight, how this did not happen can only be stated as a miracle, as my step count as well as amazingly being about to carry 2 crates of beer and water at a time to these different stages was a tough one.  Whereas the other stages like Palm city, which I will add here had amazing stage props, by far my favourite decorated stage, despite funnily enough being my least favourite for genre, and the Rocking chair only had riders for the stages rather than artists, hope that makes sense, so the liaison roles didn’t really come under those.

Palm City on Wednesday incomplete but hopefully you can get the jist of the vibe they were going for, and it looked fantastic when finished.

 Saturday was upon us with Mr Motivator kick starting the main stage. I can not stress how great this guy is onstage and off and I think we can all say we wished he spent the entire day on site as this was the day the Nest was possessed with extreme bad luck. Can we please name at least 1 band that was in line on that stage that day? Nope didn’t think so. I strangely enough appreciated this though as it taught me that not everything is glamourous and artist liaison does not even come close. Greedy, I think this is the best word for it, some people always want more, and are rude when they don’t get it, but I guess that is just the nature of the job. I also had my first ever witness of a stereotypical rock and roll lifestyle moment, I was not amused ahaha.

Sunday comes as a slight blur for me as a whole but there are individual elements that stand strong, Deaf Havana’s major rock and roll moment of trashing a dressing room, 3 holes in the walls, very impressive, much fun to deal with, many thanks.

Twin Atlantic absolutely destroying the Market stage. If you take anything from this post its that if you ever get the opportunity to catch those guys live you most definitely should, absolutely brilliant and such genuinely lovely people, that goes to their whole team. And I can confirm that Sam McTrusty is most definitely Scottish and also a big fan of golf, it’s the little things you learn about the acts aye.

Sunday evening was topped off with laughter and smiles all round, we all sat in the cabin and by all I mean the majority of those working on sight, and finished off what was left in dressing rooms that day, it’s the little things that make the world go round, also all the hate I had given the act that requested pear Kopperbergs, I take back, as they were actually golden and I am very grateful you left the majority behind(:

It’s crazy as to how close we had all gotten by being on sight together for 5 days but I think it shows how fab everyone was and it only meant we couldn’t wait for Y Not.

Monday did not just come with the quick clean of the liaison/accreditation cabin but with goodbyes, but happy byes as it would only be 48hours till we met again, despite Dora who I miss deeply (: Major shout out to Tim and his shush bus for giving me a ride back to my house, Bucks Uni students union living up to their moto of keeping students safe(: