An Angel

I do like him with his wife but i love ares too much XD. I would love if you would read my fic!!!! Its a Percy Jackson one bc i needed the base to write the pantheon as I see them. Its a ‘reading the books’ fic thats trying to solve the mystery of why the gods are some wierd hollowed out shells of their mythical selves(sorry Rick but you did my favs dirty) with a heavy focus on the gods who were super bashed in the books. Lots of Apollo/Dionysus bc they are my children. Im planning on updating soon.

I see your Ares/Hermes but I raise you Ares/Aphrodite/Hephaestus with Ares/Hermes also in an open and consensual (non-cheating) relationship. Lmao this is what I wrote in a fic and I loved their dynamics so here you go. Also Apollo/Dionysus all the way!!!

I'm more into Hephaestus/Aglaia (his wife), but i argee that Ares/Hephaestus/Aphrodite would have been a cool solution to the messy affair drama :) Also I would love to read your fic!!

I think it is hilarious that when Dazai left his little villain perch in the mafia, he couldn’t quite shake the innate urge to be a menace and his only outlet is tormenting select coworkers at the ADA (Kunikida) to feed the evil little monster at the back of his mind that does a delighted little victory dance every time he manages to make Kunikida’s blood pressure rise and it is hilarious to me that he actually gets twitchy when he can’t get a rise out of Kunikida and starts foaming at the mouth bc he needs his evil fix for the day

Nonverbal communication :0

I've had this little idea in my head for a while now, so I decided to sit down and plot it out.

Disclaimer: This isn't meant to be some sort of One-Worksheet-Fits-All situation. This is meant to be a visual representation of some type of story planning you could be doing in order to develop a plot!

Lay down groundwork! (Backstory integral to the beginning of your story.) Build hinges. (Events that hinge on other events and fall down like dominoes) Suspend structures. (Withhold just enough information to make the reader curious, and keep them guessing.)

And hey, is this helps... maybe sit down and write a story! :)

Imagine. 1/2 The war has ended & the Wizengamot are currently holding court & reviewing Dumbledore's memories that he saved. In the span of months they find many containing Death Eater spy Severus Snape, & Ministry spy Percy Weasley. With one dead & the other Missing the British wizarding world is thrown upside down as they review the Memories & realise just how much Percy Weasley was a Mastermind Schemer in saving the lives of many Muggle Borns, Goblins, Half-Blood's and Blood Traitors.

2/2 The Wizarding world are looking for where war hero Percy Weasley is. Especially his family (In this story Percy saves Fred's life & then vanishes). They see that Percy Weasley had worked as an informant during his entire Ministry career, also being the one who thought out Dumbledore's death (Shocking the courthouse) "You're already dying Albus, why not have Severus strengthen his position with the Death Eaters by being your killer?" 'He used every situation to his advantage to end the war'

Ah, the reveal of the wronged hero, what a simple and satisfying trope. It gives us angst, the bitter taste of not being appreciated mixed with the sweet sauce of late recognition and regret.  

But Percy doesn’t care about that or any other tropes because he is exhausted. Winning a war is a tiring job and he was being doing more than winning. So as soon as Voldemort keels over and dies, Percy checks that his family is alive (they all are, good job there, Percival) and he makes himself a portkey and goes away.

One wizard can’t make a portkey, you say? It takes at least four? Barty Crouch Jr had to imperius three other wizards to enchant the Goblet of Fire? And portkeys don’t work in Hogwarts under normal circumstances? Well, these are not normal circumstances, there was a battle and Percy has a lot of practice making portkeys, all right? A lot.

(There are less than twenty goblins in Britain right now and it is all Percy’s doing).

He goes to East Asia because Percy is vaguely aware that a single white man in need of enlightenment and self-discovery should go climb a mountain on Asia. Percy doesn’t climb any mountains, though, because he can never do things as he is supposed to. There must always be a twist. In this case, he gets food poisoning twice and spends over a month trying to learn how to play a plucked string instrument. He is harassed by a flock of geese and meets a talking dragon. He fails to realize that there are no accounts of talking dragons in history (at least the history badly learned and repeated in wizarding Britain). Dragons do not talk nor do they speak. Your brother works in a freaking dragon reserve, for Merlin’s sake, Percy. You should know this.

After that Percy goes to the Caribbean, because he feels that his stress-relief and self-discovery journey should also involve a stay in a tropical beach. He doesn’t particularly enjoy the experience because he is a red-head. Also, sand is annoying. He freckles all over, eats a lot of pork, learns to play the maracas, to the locals’ amusement, and leaves.

By the time Dumbledore’s memories are uncovered Percy has made his way to a Greek island. He dresses almost exclusively with a t-shirt tied around his waist like a loincloth and a pair of trainers. He also carries with him a bag made from a t-shirt like some sort of wild instagrammer. He carries all kind of knick-knacks in his bag that he uses to create himself a house at night, as if transfiguring a nutshell into a bed were a normal thing, Percy, you utter maniac.

From time to time he goes to a wizarding community and offers to do some chores or magic in exchange of goods. If a goblin woman sees him, she will give Percy a loaf of bread. He has no idea why they do that but it’s very good bread, so Percy is happy to take it. One time Percy met a male goblin and he gave Percy some salt, that he still carries with him. It is possible that for the last seven months Percy had been eating goblin bread and whatever fresh produce the Greek witches offer him in exchange of doing chores.

It is at this time that the Puddlemere United goes to Greece to do some pre-season training.

(This is something that football teams around Europe do. Go somewhere outside the country to train for a month or two in different conditions. The Manchester United often goes to Malaga, in Spain, for a warm-weather training. I don’t even like football, I don’t know why I know this.)

When Oliver Wood sees Percy Weasley standing around in little more than a loincloth he naturally assumes that he is having a hallucination, a combination of the relentless training under the hot and punishing sun, the hours spent fighting the wind (they don’t know what it is with the wind there, but it will try to kick you off the broom. They are all coming out of this with iron abs) and the constant stories in The Prophet about yet another plot Percival Weasley had conducted, saving a dozen lives.

“Percy?” Oliver asks, sweaty and thirsty and half mad from training.

“Oh, hi, Oliver!” Percy answers, and then, because Percy is simultaneously the cleverest and dumbest wizard alive, “oh shit”.

*

Percy has not been reading the news. He refuses to. He is on vacation, he is still tired and he has a white hair on his temple. Just the one hair, but Percy is twenty-two and far too young for white hair.

Oliver nods. He gets it. He is still telling the Weasley family that he has seen Percy and that he is not dead at all, only slightly insane. But he will wait until he is back in England. Oliver doesn’t know if all the things in the paper are true, but even if Percy has only rescued one thousand five hundred goblins instead of the fifteen thousand the papers claim, he is still entitled to a nice quiet vacation in which clothes are optional.

Did Percy Weasley stop a goblin genocide in his free time? Does he not realize it? How dumb is this boy?

Come September the owls start to arrive. Letters from the Ministry, from the papers, from his family. Percy watches the owl fly around and doesn’t allow himself to be found. He does read Oliver’s letters and even answers explaining that no, his family is not heart-broken. They were heart-broken five years ago when Percy very publicly acted like an asshole. They got used to it, so there is no need for this new sentimentality now that Percy is on vacation.

Percy might be acting a bit like an asshole now, but he has very complicated and ugly feelings over his family and he would rather not think about them. Mostly, he is irked by the fact that they were so quick to follow Dumbledore’s lead. Perhaps because Percy never worked for Dumbledore, he worked with Dumbledore and had the distinct pleasure of pointing to his face, on multiple occasions, what a sly bastard he was. He has little respect for people who never confronted Dumbledore.

(So basically Percy only respects Aberforth Dumbledore and Minerva McGonagall).

Also, Percy always did what he was supposed to: he washed his hands, minded his siblings, got good grades and he yet he was not the favourite son. This is all subconscious, of course, but he resents it.

Oliver keeps writing so Percy keeps writing back.

 “Did you actually side-apparate a family with twelve members?” writes Oliver.

“I have no idea.” Percy writes back. “Wait, do you mean the Johnsons? How are they?”

 “They are going to give you an Order of Merlin, 1st Class”.

“Surely they realise I don’t want one.”

“I think it is evident they realise nothing, Percy.”

 By October it’s getting cold and Percy finds that he doesn’t particularly care about wearing clothes, so he is getting ready to portkey himself to Argentina when Ginny arrives. She has such a driven and purposeful look around her that Percy assumes that she must be in the middle of a very important quest, so he hangs back and follows her as she treks all over the island and vanishes a thousand year old monster. It doesn’t occur to Percy that her quest is finding him and that the monster was merely an unfortunate bystander.

Eventually he reveals himself to Ginny because she is screaming incoherently at the sky and Percy thinks that she might be suffering hypoxia and dehydration. Ginny throws the water bottler at his head.

“I’m not the jerk here.” Percy says. “I needed a vacation and if you hadn’t seen those stupid memories you would have been fine with me being out of the country indefinitely.”

Ginny hexes him seven times, but afterwards she lies on the beach next to Percy and they look at the clouds. They spend a week together, nicely quiet and wild. They go for walks, play on the beach, make a house at night out of random transfigured things (Percy doesn’t notice Ginny’s look of utter bafflement and awe) and eat goblin bread (this time Percy does notice the look but assumes it’s because Ginny loves the taste).

Percy refuses to go back with her but he promises Ginny that he will be there for Christmas. Two days later he does go back to England, the bastard. His correspondence with Oliver has become… heated, to put it some way, and waiting a week for the owl to arrive is intolerable.  

Percy thinks this might be some sort of penance. It’s nippy in England and he can’t be dressed in a t-shirt/loincloth anymore. There is a flock of owls permanently following him, trying to deliver their messages from the Ministry and the papers and maybe, even now, from his family. Worst of all, Oliver writes him all kind of randy letters but refuses to shag Percy, even though he is right there, because of sports. Something about turning frustration into spectacular athletic performance, Percy doesn’t know. He is so frustrated that he goes and stops a plan to assassinate Potter all by himself.

On Christmas Eve Percy goes home and he is yelled at, cursed at, cried at and loved, very loved, it’s embarrassing. He is rescued from the madness by Potter who easily admits he has been fuelling the newspapers infatuation with Percy because that way they left him slightly in peace.

(And on Boxing Day he moves in with Oliver).

“…food and love - which is of course the same thing.”

Daniel J. Miller, “The Touch of Love - It Is Everything” / this post / “Joe Pera Shows You How To Pack A Lunch Box” (2020) / a text from my sister / A. A. Milne / @chennai-expression / Chef (2014) dir. Jon Favreau / Sam Sifton, “What to Cook Right Now” (New York Times) / Alan Alda

One thing I feel people miss about lord of the rings is that it’s sort of……….post-apocalyptic?

Like– the world already ended, a long time ago, and the characters are surrounded by the ruins of dead countries. They spend most of their time journeying through places that are either abandoned (Moria) soon to be abandoned (Rivendell/Lorien) or half-destroyed and falling into decay (Rohan/Gondor.) The villains are creatures that Used to be Human; I feel like Lotr’s orcs/ringwraiths have more in common with zombies than they do with DnD-style orcs, because they’re a state that “normal” people enter when they’re corrupted by a supernatural force.

Even the Shire is surrounded by ruins– the ruins of watchtowers, the ruins of the old Northern Kingdom, the ruined city near the Grey Havens. The people around there have an idiom “when the king comes back” that means the same thing as an idiom like “when pigs fly”–  “when a completely ridiculous improbable thing happens.” They’re so used to the disintegrated state of the world that the idea of a central government is fairy-tale-like and bizarre. They have their little mayors and thains; they don’t need anything else.

So yeah! I see people try to “modern-real-world- au” versions of Hobbiton by making it “a peaceful suburb” but to me, a modern au version of Hobbiton would be more like…….

You are a hobbit.

You don’t know much history, but you understand that there were Wars a long time ago that destroyed a great amount of life on earth.

You live in a little hole in the ground. You don’t know that long ago these holes used to be called “bunkers;” you decorate them with flowers.

When you want to say that something won’t happen, you’ll sarcastically say things “lol yeah SURE that will happen! And tomorrow pigs will fly, Parliament will come back into session, there will be a president in the White House, there will be a prime minister making speeches, and diplomats will intercede between all of them! ha! XD”

If you journey even a little outside of your home, you’ll find the ruins of old cities and skyscrapers. There are messages in the ruins that are written in languages you don’t speak. Human beings used to live here; they don’t anymore.

And you’re not supposed to leave the Shire because sometimes you’ll meet the things that used to be human, but aren’t anymore.

"Most women marry men like their fathers. This is the real reason mothers cry at weddings."

- the description for a fucking ohshc fanfic???????

accidental luisa madrigal fanart 🤣 wasn't my intention but honestly look like her if she wore a shorter skirt and had straighter hair since this is my most anatomically correct person so far, i'll take it!!!

Also Michael sheen is a fucking sociopath

The desperate half-grabbing at Crowley’s shoulders. The way you can see his heart break the moment he pulls away. The absolute shock and devastation on his face as he realizes what he’s giving up. The hard touch to his lips after Crowley leaves as he’s trying to get back that feeling again. The looking back. The forced smiles. The absolute agony you can see Aziraphale going through all because he genuinely believes this is the only way to make things better and being with Crowley is not more important than that. Right? Right?

Michael Sheen owes me money