My wish has really come true -- what a wonderful gift! This is just the sort of witty, delightful femmeslash I adore: ripe with promise, beautifully characterized, funny, sharp, and full of heart in the best of senses. You make Mykonos come alive; I can just see the white streets and the colorful doors, feel the delicious heat and the sun and the pleasure of the shady veranda. I love the "for your sins" conceit, both in concept and execution. You carry it through so cleverly, from title to characters to summary (for stories like this one, I'll commit dozens more sins, I promise!)
Here are just a few of the lines I loved:
If there was anyone who understood that things should be allow to grow in their own, good time, it was Pomona. See what I mean about how well-characterized this fic is? It's lines like this one that do it. Beautiful.
She hadn’t actually taken one, but that was precisely because, from everything she had heard about them, they were full of things she hated. This sounds like a perfectly logical train of thought to me!
Rolanda, who spent her days riding brooms and her nights riding Minerva Ahahaha!
Hours of reading in the garden, strolling through villages, and taking her time in second-hand bookstores? Dinners consisting of just what she liked best, bought ready-cooked at those fun Muggle supermarkets? Now this is my kind of holiday. (Not that I would mind a package holiday in Mykonos if it were like the one we see here.)
Garlicky and oily and fishy, Poppy had always thought. Poppy is definitely a woman after my own heart.
It was all Minerva’s and Rolanda’s fault. And Poppy’s, for being so very evil at some point. Perfect pacing here.
Tea that was a liquid, not Minerva’s inky-black concoction. Black as her soul, thought Poppy, and repeated the promise she had made herself: that she would get the two ugliest, unsightliest, most touristy things and give them to those two for Christmas presents. I like the way Poppy's mind works. Pity about her poor taste in tea strength, though.
Whatever it was she had done in her life, it couldn’t have been too bad. Perfect circling-back to the "sins" motif.
Thank you for this excellent gift, therealsnape. It's just exactly what I've been wanting to read.
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Here are just a few of the lines I loved:
If there was anyone who understood that things should be allow to grow in their own, good time, it was Pomona.
See what I mean about how well-characterized this fic is? It's lines like this one that do it. Beautiful.
She hadn’t actually taken one, but that was precisely because, from everything she had heard about them, they were full of things she hated.
This sounds like a perfectly logical train of thought to me!
Rolanda, who spent her days riding brooms and her nights riding Minerva
Ahahaha!
Hours of reading in the garden, strolling through villages, and taking her time in second-hand bookstores? Dinners consisting of just what she liked best, bought ready-cooked at those fun Muggle supermarkets?
Now this is my kind of holiday. (Not that I would mind a package holiday in Mykonos if it were like the one we see here.)
Garlicky and oily and fishy, Poppy had always thought.
Poppy is definitely a woman after my own heart.
It was all Minerva’s and Rolanda’s fault.
And Poppy’s, for being so very evil at some point.
Perfect pacing here.
Tea that was a liquid, not Minerva’s inky-black concoction. Black as her soul, thought Poppy, and repeated the promise she had made herself: that she would get the two ugliest, unsightliest, most touristy things and give them to those two for Christmas presents.
I like the way Poppy's mind works. Pity about her poor taste in tea strength, though.
Whatever it was she had done in her life, it couldn’t have been too bad.
Perfect circling-back to the "sins" motif.
Thank you for this excellent gift,