#had a customer go on at me that i was having a drink and not packing theor order when theyd been waiting but i had nothing to pack

[0x-cinder]

Zoro and fem!reader are having a drinking contest and a barely sober reader ends up dancing with an arrogant stranger.

Trigger Warnings: Alcohol consumption, mild references to sex, non-detailed descriptions of vomiting.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦. 　⁺ 　 . ✦ .

"I wasn't Jealous!"

"Give up, swordsman, you'll never beat me!" you exclaimed.

"No shot, Princess!" The swordsman barked, downing his third beer of the night, "There's no way I'm letting a woman out-drink me!"

With a determined look in your eye, you waved down the bartender and ordered your third drink, "Watch me."

Zoro laughed in response and followed your lead, requesting another beer.

The rules were simple—a drinking contest where the loser had to help Sanji with the dishes for a week. You didn't plan on losing, so you made sure to choose a punishment that Zoro would despise.

However, after watching you down your sixth drink of the night, Zoro began to think that accepting your challenge may have been a bad decision, especially because you started swaying just after the fourth round.

"Alright Princess," he said sternly, leaning in so that you could hear him over all the noise inside the busy tavern, "maybe you should call it quits for the night."

"I will do no such thing!" you exclaimed, shaking your head profusely, "not until you surrender!"

Zoro paused, weighed his competitive spirit against the thought of carrying you, blacked out, back to the Sunny…

It was a short walk to the docks. You'd be fine.

Taking his silence as a refusal to yield, you waved down the tired-looking bartender and ordered another round.

A few minutes later, you felt the sudden urge to use the restroom as seven rounds of drinks finally reached your bladder. You stood, steadying yourself against the bar.

"Be right back," you slurred to the swordsman before making your way across the tavern towards the lady's room, putting a great deal of effort into appearing as sober as possible.

Zoro chuckled as he watched you stumble away.

You joined the Strawhats three months ago when the crew docked in your hometown for supplies. Zoro and Luffy stopped for a drink at your father's bar after being chased by an angry shopkeeper for "scaring away paying customers." Luffy caught you scribbling a story on a napkin behind the bar and, after sneaking a peak at what you'd written, decided you'd be the crew's chronicler, responsible for documenting the Strawhat's "glorious adventures."

The swordsman didn't talk to you much at first, but he soon got used to your presence as his crow's nest became your favorite writing spot. He'd noticed that you'd stop writing to watch him train sometimes and found himself pushing harder to impress you. Then, after a close run-in with the Blackbeard Pirates, he convinced you to let him teach you how to wield a sword. His chances of losing you were significantly lower if you were armed.

The bartender slid a glass of water across the bar, snapping the green-haired man out of his thoughts.

"For your friend," he winked, "You'd better give up soon, the poor lass is going to drink herself sick."

The green-haired man figured the barkeep was probably right anddecided to "give up" for your sake once you returned. You'd probably be too hungover to remember it in the morning, anyway.

Yet, 5 more minutes passed. You still hadn't returned. Zoro let out an exasperated sigh, no way she got herself stuck in the bathroom he thought.

Zoro crossed the tavern floor and lifted his hand to knock on the bathroom door.

Before his knuckles hit the wood, however, the door swung open to reveal a woman who looked nothing like you. "Wrong one, handsome, the men's is over there," she said, gesturing towards a door down the hall.

Zoro didn't respond, too focused on soothing the mild panic rising in his chest. The woman gave him an odd look before maneuvering around him and disappearing into the crowd on the dance floor.

Where the fuck did she go? He thought, How on earth did I lose track of her?

The swordsman circled the tavern's main room, his anxiety growing with every face he spied that wasn't yours.

Just as he started to get the horrible feeling that you'd somehow left the bar without him noticing, he caught a glimpse of you near the center of the crowd of dancing bodies.

Eyes locked on your position, Zoro pushed through the crowd to find you dancing in the center of it all. His panic eased, relieved to have found you, but anger quickly took his place as he noticed the hands of an unfamiliar man wrapped around your waist, guiding your hips with his to the music, holding you too close for the swordsman's comfort.

The stranger spun you around, and your eyes met his. Your smile widened. "Zoro! There you are,∼" you shouted, pushing away from your dance partner and stumbling towards the swordsman, "I wondered where you'd gone!"

"Hey, you disappeared on me, Woman." Zoro argued, pushing his index finger against your forehead.

You took his hand and spun around, "Whatever. Come dance with me∼"

"I don't dance"

"C'mon∼" you snaked your arms around his neck, pushing yourself against him.

Zoro felt every inch of his body grow warmer at your touch; his mind ran blank for a moment before he reminded himself that he should probably get you home. He gently pushed you off of him, "You've had a lot to drink, maybe we should-"

"Don't waste your time with this killjoy, sweetheart," A voice sounded over your shoulder. Your dance partner appeared behind you, reaching for your left arm, which now hung loosely by your side. "Come hang out with the fun people∼"

Zoro couldn't stop the glare that spread across his features as the stranger gave your arm a slight tug, which, in your unstable state, was enough to make you stumble right into him. The man caught you, arms pressed tight around your waist to provide as much stability as he could without falling to the ground with you.

You gave him a sheepish smile. "oops, sorry."

"You're welcome to fall for me any time, darling." He winked.

Zoro felt rage start to seep back through his veins.

"Alright, princess, time to go. You're gonna hurt yourself and I promised Nami I'd return you in one piece," the swordsman said sternly, reaching for you.

The stranger leaned closer to Zoro, still holding you firm against him, "C'mon man, don't be a cockblock." He said with a smirk.

Zoro's blood reached its boiling point. Before he could stop himself, he swung his already clenched fist straight into the bastard's face, propelling him backward. You would have gone flying with him if Zoro hadn't caught your wrist and pulled you back.

Your stomach heaved at the sudden commotion, and the room spun as you hunched over and vomited, barely missing Zoro's right foot.

The swordsman didn't give you a chance to recover as your former dance partner stood back up, red in the face with anger and humiliation. Not to mention the bartender, who was making his way around the bar to catch whoever was disturbing the peace.

Zoro scooped you up and dashed out of the tavern. Of course, he would have loved to stay for the fight, but he didn't want to risk getting you caught in the middle of it, especially in your heavily intoxicated state.

Once he was certain no one was tailing you both, Zoro turned into an alleyway and set you down, where you proceeded to hurl the contents of your stomach onto the pavement. The green-haired man sighed and pulled your hair away from your face as he waited for you to finish.

Once your stomach was empty, you stood. Still a little dizzy, but at least the nausea had subsided.

"Better?" Zoro asked, removing his hand from your hair.

"Much better."

"You shouldn't dance with strange men." He chided.

"And you shouldn't punch people just because you're jealous."

Zoro felt his face flush. "I wasn't jealous, woman."

"Yeah you were." you teased, pointing a finger into his chest, "I was just having fun and you punched him because you were jealous." you smiled, drawing out the syllables in the word "jealous" just to tease him.

"Remind me never to let you have more than three drinks ever again."

"And remind me never to make you jealous again." you giggled.

"I was not!"

"Were too∼"

"Why would I care who you dance with!?"

"I don't know, you tell me∼"

"I can't because I don't!"

"Then why'd you punch him?"

"Because he just wanted to fuck you!"

You both went silent. You'd been so focused on the argument that you hadn't realized you'd been moving closer to Zoro with every retort.

You held his gaze and a devious grin spread across your lips, "And why does that bother you so much?"

Checkmate.

Zoro remained silent, but he didn't pull away from you. "I-" his eyes flickered down to your lips. For a second, you were sure he was going to kiss you.

"Forget it." He sighed, smelling the alcohol on your breath; kissing you while you were like this would make him no better than that bastard in the tavern. He started to back away, "You're drunk, you don't know what you're-"

"I'm sober enough to know you want to kiss me."

The swordsman froze, heat rushing to his face, "I-" he stuttered, looking away. Your eyes were tempting him, and he was desperately trying to keep his composure.

"Am I wrong?"

"You're drunk." He was so close you could feel his breath catch in his throat.

"But am. I. wrong?"

Unable to hold back any longer, the swordsman closed the gap between you, pushing his lips firmly against yours. Sparks of heat rushed through your body as you kissed him back, placing your hands on his chest as his came to rest on your hips.

The kiss started slow and sweet, almost cautious. You'd never seen Zoro treat anything as gently as he was treating you; it made your stomach flutter. You slid your hands up his chest, wrapping your arms around his neck. He responded by snaking his hands around your waist and pulling you closer. His movements became more desperate as he pushed your body against the wall of the alleyway. You moved your hands into his mossy hair, and he groaned, pulling you tight against him as if you were going to disappear the moment he let go. You smiled against him and bit his bottom lip playfully. He went rigid for a moment before breaking the kiss.

"Slow down there, princess. I don't want-" he stumbled to find the right words. "I didn't mean to-"

You looked up at him expectantly.

He stepped back. "Fuck. I'm sorry." He took a deep breath and another step back, "I'm sorry."

"You're missing a crucial difference, swordsman." You hummed, ruffling his hair.

"What do you mean?"

"I actually want you."

He stood for a moment, stunned by your words, letting them sink in.

"You…want me?"

[wrangleandtame]

A Distinct Hook Echo (Finally)

Tyler vowed to kiss her tonight. This was getting ridiculous. He’d clutched the handle of her suitcase at that airport instead of grabbing her around the waist and sweeping her into a dramatic kiss. Kate had practically shot up flares and waved him in using airplane marshaling wands, and he still just stared at her mouth like an idiot.

All afternoon, as they pursued storms across muggy Oklahoma fields, he’d squandered every opportunity to cup the back of her neck and draw her into an adrenaline-veneered kiss; each golden moment slipping through his fingers like so much hematitic Oklahoma dirt.

Her rebooked flight departed in the morning, so when the last possible tornado of the day busted out, they stumbled across a familiar motel and agreed to clean up and get some rest.

“Kate?” He stopped her as she began to trudge up the motel stairs, and she spun to face him.

“Can I take you out to dinner?” He casually pulled a piece of grass hay from her hair. “Pretty sure the only place open is the Shady Grady bar across the street, so I can’t guarantee the quality of the meal, but -“

“Eight o’clock?”

He nodded, “eight o’clock.”

At seven-thirty, he entered the bar determined to stow his uncharacteristic jitters and make a goddamned move.

As far as romantic settings go, Tyler figured he’d just have to make the most of the meager atmosphere. Music blared from a cheap sound system, filling the establishment with muted, cracked versions of modern country ballads. The stale air smelled of peanuts, alcohol, and overtly perfumed customers.

He promptly spotted Kate, who smiled at him from a booth across the room; those globular brown eyes drew him to her like tractor beams. He strode confidently through a packed dance floor of denim, cowboy hats, and clacking boots on the oak floor.

“You’re early,” he said and slid into the high-backed wood booth.

“So are you,” she observed with a grin.

Honey-lit by the poorly attempted ambient lighting, her hair glowed golden, her mascara-dressed eyes the dark rich mahogany of the drink in the tumbler before her.

He’d grown accustomed to seeing Kate in two states of being: completely disheveled or freshly scrubbed. Witnessing the polished version stirred within him a fresh yearning. Radiant in her simple black silk camisole, small gold hoop earrings, and glossy lips, she’d pinned half her hair up, the remaining falling in blonde waves brushing her shoulders.

“You’re always beautiful Kate,” he tried not to behave as gobsmacked as he felt. “But tonight, you’re goddamned stunning.”

“Pretty dapper yourself.”

In reality, the only difference in his appearance from his usual attire was the addition of a soft caramel blazer, and, of course, the efforts she couldn’t see: his frantic pre-date preparations of trimming his nose hairs, whitening his teeth, manicuring his junk, clipping his toenails and spraying on some Dior Sauvage.

He tore his eyes from her to examine the laptop, tablet, binder, notebook and phone strewn across the table, “what’s all this?”

She shrugged, “I wanted to rework some things before my presentation, and the motel’s wifi is garbage.”

“Making any progress?” he seized a yellow legal pad and scanned her neatly written notes.

“Not really,” she admitted. “Would you want to do a read-through? Let me know what you think? I don’t want to get this wrong.”

“Course I would. But, I’d bet the farm you’re overthinkin’ it.”

“You’ve got to have a farm to bet first.”

“I do.”

“You do?”

“Mmhm. Send it to me; I’ll read it tonight.”

She tapped at the keys, presumably texting the file to him, and without looking up she said, “I’m actually glad you’re early.”

“Oh yeah,” he smiled, “why’s that?”

She quickly evaluated their immediate surroundings and leaned in, lowering her voice, “Some mega creep isn’t taking no for an answer; he keeps circling me like I’m roadkill.”

“Need me to scare him off?”

“Need? No. Want? Very much so.”

“I can do that,” he smiled widely.

She tilted her head, “why do you look so eager?”

“I like bein’ useful to you.”

“Have I not told you how incredibly useful I find you?”

“Not near enough,” he retained his eyes on her, memorizing her face at this moment.

The creep suddenly appeared at their table, too tall and too attractive, Tyler decided, with dark hair and bright blue eyes.

He placed a glass of liquor in front of Kate, ignoring Tyler’s presence altogether. "Hey there, beautiful. Woodford Reserve, neat, right?”

“Well that’s mighty generous of you,” Tyler drawled, snatched the glass and downed the drink in one swallow, slamming the empty tumbler back on the table. “This sure is a friendly town.”

Megacreep seethed, “That wasn’t for you!”

“Oh, my apologies,” Tyler feigned confusion. “When you said ‘beautiful,’ I thought you were talkin’ to me.”

Kate chortled and covered it by clearing her throat.

“Who the fuck are you?” Megacreep snarled at him.

“Now here I thought sure you were a fan of mine,” Tyler declared. “I get a lot of free drinks from my fans.”

“Is this your fella?” MegaCreep asked Kate.

She gazed at Tyler, her eyes shining affectionately, “there is a distinct and growing possibility.”

He smirked, “hear that buddy? I’m a growin’ possibility.”

“You’re a dick.”

“Been called worse. Today even.”

Kate chuckled, and Megacreep stepped towards her, pointing his large finger at her, “what kinda bitch doesn’t say she’s got a boyfriend?”

Tyler stood in a blink, placing himself physically between Kate and Megacreep. Arms akimbo and his voice cold, Tyler practically growled, “you’re gonna walk away now. Nope, no, don’t look at her. Don’t talk to her. Walk the fuck away. Go on now.”

Megacreep stared him down for a moment, as though considering his options. Despite Megacreep’s height advantage, Kate wasn’t too concerned; Tyler’s sturdy presence and irrepressible conviction imbued the intimidating impression that he wouldn’t at all require height.

“What a waste,” Megacreep snarled, and stomped away like a pissed toddler. Tyler didn’t move, his eyes glued to the guy until he fully exited the bar.

His relaxed posture returned immediately, and he slid back into the vinyl seat across from her.

“You white knighted me,” she teased warmly.

“Yeah, yeah, let’s get back to that distinct possibility you were talkin’ about.”

She laughed, “Tyler, I’m leaving in the morning.”

“But you’re comin’ back.”

“Probably.”

He scowled, “what do you mean ‘probably’? You’re not thinkin’ about staying in New York? You don’t belong in New York, Kate.”

“Why’s that?”

He appeared personally aggrieved and more than a little irritated, “you’re tellin’ me you’d be happier in New York? I mean, your face when we’re out there in those fields? You light up like a firefly in June! You sure as shit aren’t letting us do this without you.”

She blinked softly at him.

Relief dressed his face, “you enjoyin’ watchin’ me squirm?”

“Lil’ bit,” She shrugged.

“Sadist.”

She laughed. Under the gloLike cozying beside a crackling fire on a chilly evening, it was impossible not to feel a deep warmth and joy under the glow of his full attention.

He regarded her, “seriously, Kate, you’re a fuckin’ knockout.”

“Thank you,” she responded, oddly flustered from his blatant admiration; she glanced at her drink and then back up at his ridiculously handsome face. She couldn’t think what else to say. Her mother always christened Kate as bilingual, in that she spoke English and sass fluently. Charm, however, she could never harness. Tyler Owens had a master’s degree.

Initially, upon meeting Tyler, she attempted minimal eye contact to avoid the unnerving fever of his beauty. Quickly though, he disarmed her hesitancy with his earnest altruism and overflowing enthusiasm, and she’d been forced to become accustomed to his excessively good looks.

“Jesus Christ, what kind of whiskey are you drinking?” He peered into her tumbler, feeling slightly buzzed. “Shit’s strong.”

“It’s just bourbon.”

“Bourbon?” He raised his eyebrows. “You a mafia kingpin or a nineteen fifties ad exec?”

She smiled, “I like bourbon. My grandfather used to give me little sips as a kid. Misguided as he was, I think I developed a taste for it.”

Kate’s reticence about her life enflamed Tyler’s natural delight in discovery. Every tidbit, every newly uncovered piece of the Kate-puzzle felt like a win, "Is he still alive, your grandfather?”

As she started to answer, a sudden vertiginous wave pummeled him, and he placed his palms on the table for stability.

“Tyler, are you okay?”

He squinted, a sleepy warmth spread through his limbs, “I had exactly one drink, your drink, and that was it.”

“What does that mean; are you feeling sick?”

His jaw muscles clenched, and his eyebrows drew together as though he deliberated on something difficult or painful.

“Tyler?” She reached across the table, placing her hand atop his. “Answer me. Are you okay?”

He met her eyes and fumed, “I think that skyscraper-sized predator roofied your drink.”

“What? Seriously?”

“I’m going to feed him his fuckin’ teeth,” he stood, irate, and then immediately sat back down, “after the room stops spinning.”

“Oh my god. We should, we should get you to the hospital,” she slammed her laptop lid closed and started shoveling everything into her messenger bag.

“I don’t need a hospital.”

“You don’t know what he put in there, or more importantly, how much.”

“I don’t need a damn hospital,” he scowled. “I’m wasted. I’m not dying.”

Her face puckered in concern, “how do you feel?”

He shrugged, “tore up from the floor up.”

“If you won’t let me take you to the hospital, then we need to get you to your room before you pass out.”

“Not gonna pass out.”

“How do you know?” She tilted her head, “You been roofied before?”

“Course not.”

“Well I have, so I can tell you that we need to get you somewhere before you pass out. And fast.”

His face fell, “you’ve, Kate, you’ve been -“

“In college. I was fine. I was with friends who kept me safe. It happens more often than you can imagine. Now let’s get you out of here, because Tyler, I don’t think I can carry you.”

He swallowed, his face pained, “yeah, yeah okay.”

He rose to his feet and inhaled deeply while Kate wrapped her messenger bag across her body and stood, shoving her phone in her pocket.

“Here, put your arm around me in case you get woozy.”

“I know you’re strong Kate, but if I go down, it’s going to be like getting clobbered by a bald cypress.”

“Just do what I’m saying,” she gripped his hand and hung it around her shoulder and wrapped her arm around his waist.

“Bossy,” he grumbled.

“You like it,” she scoffed, “Pfft, a bald cypress. You think quite a lot of yourself.”

He chuckled and then he sighed, suddenly forlorn, “hey, I’m, I really didn’t imagine this is how our date would go.”

“Well maybe later you can tell me what you did imagine.”

“You flirtin’ with me?”

“For days now, Tyler. Let’s get out of here.”

They began the journey across the wooden floor, feet crunching upon the husks of peanut shells tossed aside, and to his credit, Tyler walked fairly well, despite his growing sense of instability. They weaved around the little square tables littered with empty beer bottles, shot glasses and crumpled cocktail napkins.

They both immediately glimpsed the sky as they exited the bar, habitually checking conditions. The fresh temperate air returned a sense of normalcy to the peculiar circumstances.

They crossed the deserted highway hand in hand, by the time they reached the stairs of the motel, Tyler felt he’d crossed the Rubicon, and plopped himself down on the bottom step.

“If you rest there, you’re going to end up staying there; get up, Tyler.”

“Alrighty,” he pulled himself up by the railing.

“Which room?”

“Hmm. Not sure actually,” he pointed at the entire row of motel rooms, his vision progressively more blurry.

“That’s alright. I need to keep an eye on you anyway. Let’s just go to mine,” she climbed the stairs behind him and then grasped his hand, guiding him into her room.

“Sit down,” she pointed at her bed, and he obliged obediently. For a clearly vain man, Tyler truly possessed very little ego. He never appeared slighted or emasculated by Kate’s leadership or expertise. From day one, he approached her as though her abilities very possibly exceeded his own. She couldn’t say the same for ninety-seven percent of her male colleagues, even those with years less experience and education. Tyler’s cocky assuredness should have translated into the typical arrogant know-it-all, but ever-surprisingly, his heart and mind opened to all ideas, and he easily credited those around him for his successes.

“Kate?”

“Yeah?” She unloaded her gear onto the dresser top and turned to face his distressed expression.

“I’m hammered, and I’m twice your size,” He frowned. “That drink would have knocked you out cold.”

“I know, Tyler.”

“He might’ve, I mean if you drank that instead of me, if I wasn’t there, he could’ve…” he appeared both furious and on the verge of tears.

“Yeah, I know,” she grimaced. “Try not to think about it.”

“I’m sorry, that this world, that you have to deal with shit like that.”

“It’s alright,” she leaned against the dresser.

“It’s, it’s not,” he scowled, “why aren’t you angry?”

“I am, I just don’t have any practical answers, and I’m more concerned about you right now.”

He stared at his hands for a moment, then looked up, “You can’t ever accept a drink from someone you don’t know, okay?”

“I don’t,” she informed him as she helped him remove his blazer.

“You don’t?”

“No. I learned the hard way, but I learned,” she hung his blazer on the back of the office chair.

“That’s good. That’s real good. I feel better. World still sucks, though.”

He laid back on the bed, looking at the ceiling and promptly fell asleep.

Kate watched him breathe for a few minutes, then unpacked her bags and briefly stepped out of the room to place a few phone calls.

A short time later, while Kate again read through her presentation, she heard Tyler stir and turned in her chair to check in on him.

“Oh shit,” he bolted upright, “Kate, what if that asshole goes down the road and roofies some other girl?”

“I called the cops.”

“What? When?”

“When you passed out a little bit ago. They asked me to file a report online, and they called the two bars in the area and gave them my description.”

“I didn’t pass out.”

“You did. For about forty-five minutes. You snored.”

He eyed her skeptically. Those eyes. Good lord, was there even a name for that color? Not in any crayola box she’d seen.

“You did,” she imagined an alternative method in discovering he snored, but quickly redirected her thoughts.

“Do you have to go to New York?” He slurred.

“I’ll be back.”

“When?”

“I’m not sure yet. Get some sleep Tyler.”

“Hey Kate?”

“Yes?”

“I’ve wanted to kiss you two dozen times since we met. Atleast.”

She cocked her head and grinned, “Well what’s the holdup Tyler Owens?”

He smiled softly, “I’ve put the horse before the cart a few times. Too many times. Guess I didn’t want to, you know, I didn’t want to fuck this up, you and me. I mean I’ve been thinkin’ about kissin’ you since the day I first saw you, your hair all pulled into that clip, wearin’ that buttoned-up outfit and that serious beautiful face. Mile high walls up, and then you speak, and you’re fuckin’ brilliant and a little snarky -“

“I’m not snarky.”

“The snarkiest. Your mother agrees with me on this.”

“Of course she does.”

“Shush, I’m tryin’ to woo you with my words since my goddamned body feels like goo.”

“Well then go on. You’re doing fine.”

“I am?”

“Oh yes.”

He beamed, “so like I was sayin’, I didn’t want to fuck it up, and then the first time I saw you smile, like really smile, well, shit, I was done for. And then I really didn’t want to fuck it up. And I thought tonight, I’m not gonna blow it, and now,” he sighed. “Well, I can’t kiss you while I’m shitfaced. Can’t actually feel my lips right now,” he closed his eyes and touched his lips. “There they are. Okay I can feel them.”

She stifled a laugh. His inebriated declaration moved her to match his bold honesty, “I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone quite like you, and in case I haven’t made it very clear: I would like you to kiss me. Try not to worry on it. It’ll happen. And I’ll kiss you back, and then all of the other good things that come with that.”

He smiled, full teeth, “that is. S’wonderful. News.”

“Isn’t it?” She tried not to giggle. Even in this dingy motel room, Tyler practically glowed with health. Eternally sun-gilded, eyes that sparkled like a freshwater lake in summer, his sculpted body a vision of purpose.

He frowned, “what if I don’t remember?”

“I’ll remind you.”

“Promise?” His eyes so round he resembled what he must have looked like as a child.

“Cross my heart.”

“And you’re comin’ back?”

“Of course I’m coming back. The only thing I have in New York is a plant I’ve killed and replaced six times, a neighbor cat I pretend is mine, and workmates that think I don’t know their nickname for me is Elsa.”

“Who’s Elsa?”

“The snow queen.”

“You’re from Oklahoma.”

“It’s their terribly clever way of saying I’m an icy cold bitch.”

“What? But. You’re not. You’re kind and compassionate and who the fuck would think that?”

“It really doesn’t bother me,” she quietly thought on it for a moment. “This one guy, god he hates me, he hums, “let it go,” when I walk past him.”

“What’s that?”

“The song. You know.”

“How’s it go?”

Kate cleared her throat and hummed a few bars.

He shook his head “I don’t think I’ve heard it.”

“You’ve heard it,” Kate sang, “let it go, let it go, I don’t know the rest of the woooords.”

Mischief in his eyes, he smirked, “you’ve got a pretty voice.”

She laughed, “you shit, you know what song I’m talking about!”

“Course I know that song. I’m from Arkansas not Mars.”

She laughed and his heavy eyelids drooped again, “Tyler, go ahead and rest.

“Maybe just for a sec,” he stretched out across the bed and nearly instantly fell asleep again.

She turned back to her laptop and spent an hour extensively researching drugs used in date rapes, narrowing by state and then county. She reviewed the short and long term effects of the top three. Worst case scenarios always lapped her brain, and she found research could occasionally ease the anxiety. She tried reassuring herself that he likely metabolized quickly.

After an hour or so, he suddenly sat up, swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood.

She jumped up from her chair, “whoa, where you going?”

“Bathroom,” he closed one eye and pointed at the bathroom.

“Need help getting there?”

He used the edge of the bed as a handrail, working himself around it and closer to the bathroom, “I got it.”

She tried not to imagine him passing out and hitting his head as he shut the door. After he had flushed the toilet and the water ran for ten minutes Kate called through the door, “Tyler? You good?”

Tyler opened the door, shirtless, her toothbrush hanging out of his frothy mouth, “I’m good,” and he resumed brushing his teeth.

She eyed his white tee, button down and belt abandoned on the linoleum.

“Can’t stand my teeth feelin’ fuzzy,” he mumbled through a mouth full of toothpaste. He stopped brushing, eyes wide, “oh shit, this isn’t my toothbrush, cuz this isn't my room.”

She desperately attempted to retain her eyes on his face as she replied, “it’s fine.”

“What time is it?” He asked, post-gargle.

“Three AM.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

“We should get some sleep.”

“That’s a great idea.”

He dropped to the bed like a felled tree, and seemed to find sleep immediately.

She attempted to wiggle his boots from his feet, which took quite a bit more effort than she anticipated, jostling him back awake in the process.

“Whatcha doin?” He raised to his elbows, watching her struggle with a fond amusement.

“Trying to help you,” she grunted, straddled his leg and yanking at the unmoving boot.

“You wanna help me, come on up here and cuddle me.”

She dropped his foot and peered at his lifted head, “Cuddle you?”

“Mmmhmm, c’mere Kate,” he held out his very attractive arms (that led to the rest of his very attractive body) to her as he easily toed off his boots.

She lowered herself next to him, and he pulled her flush against his chest, both strong arms wrapped around her. She adjusted slightly, and found herself unusually comfortable, given the hard terrain of his chisled chest.

“You clicked right into place like a lego; fit perfectly like you were made to go right here,” his voice rumbly from her location. “Legos click in, right? Did that make a damn bit of sense? Still feelin' a little smashed.”

His soft dark chest hair tickled her nose, “made sense and also accurate. Good job.”

“This’s nice. You smell nice. Like lemon merengue pie.”

“It’s my shampoo.”

He always smelled like everything she associated with love: wind-blown winter wheat fields, metallic dust, engine oil, earthy geosmin and crisp ozone. Tonight, his usual smells mixed with soap and that peppery manly cologne that seemingly every guy south of Nebraska wore.

She felt a bit self-conscious. Before this moment, they hadn’t even hugged. Strange to think, given how close she felt to him. The intimacy of having their bodies pressed against one another flicked inner switches she thought long dead. Shit, she hadn’t actually “cuddled” with anyone in a long long while. In five years. Not since the last time Jeb -

“Stop thinkin’.”

“How do you know I’m thinking?”

“Can feel it in your body,” he ran one large hand down over her shoulder, along her torso, skimmed over her hip and back again. “Rest Kate.”

She very nearly moaned, and swallowed before answering, “I’ll try.”

“Relax your body. Listen to my heart. You’re okay. I’m okay. Let’s sleep.” he nuzzled the top of her head with his chin. “Rest Kate.”

She smiled into his chest.

“Goodnight Sapulpa.”

“Goodnight Tyler.”

A few minutes passed, and her eyes began to feel heavy and her limbs leaden.

She relaxed, but she didn’t fall asleep for quite some time, just listening to his deep breathing, her head and hand falling into the rhythm of his chest. His strong heart beat a steady consistent rhythm , and she’d have been lying to herself if she didn’t consider for just a moment, that she belonged right here, in his arms, on his chest: warm, safe, cared for. Who wouldn’t want that?

She glanced up at his sweet little mouth, open and letting out even puffs of air. Who wouldn’t want him?

Talk about putting the cart before the horse.

Besides, the logistics bordered on nightmarish. Sure, she wanted him. Badly. But, the last time she had attempted to fuck some idiot plagued her brain. She’d finally given it a go after three years in New York, not because her heart called out, but because her body demanded it. The moment the making out progressed into something more, her heart rate picked up, her body rife with confusion, launched her into a full-blown panic attack. She ended up shoving him off of her, locked herself in the bathroom, vomiting and hyperventilating for an hour. She’d Uber’d home and completely swore off dating after that. Hell, after that, she’d even consume a glass of wine before masturbating to avoid the possibility of bringing on another panic attack. Add to that, her Jeb-based survivor’s guilt tainted any bit of attraction she felt for other men. It just hadn’t been on her mind anymore. It didn’t seem possible, so she stopped caring.

That disastrous date occurred years ago; she attempted to reason with herself. She drove straight into tornadoes now for fuck’s sake! When did that become less frightening than fucking a man who nearly made her come every time he called her Sapulpa (stupidest nickname ever.) Tyler had awakened a desire in her she thought she’d fully cremated.

She feared even trying. Good lord, if it went well, though - wasn’t it worth the risk? Wasn’t he worth the risk?

She’d argued with herself in this fashion a dozen times in the last forty-eight hours.

She must have fallen asleep for an hour or two, but awoke at first light, the little spoon, his heavy arm draped across her waist, his palm under her shirt, tucked around her abdomen.

She checked her phone and her flight status: on time. Disappointment weighted her to the bed for another moment, before obligations began stacking in her brain, and she slipped from beneath him to ready herself and her belongings.

She considered waking him but settled on grabbing a pen from her bag and jotting a note on a motel pad.

“Where you goin’?” he groused from bed.

She turned to see him sitting up and rubbing his eyes.

“My plane is on time. Javi’s downstairs.”

“I can drive you.”

She walked over to the bed and sat next to him, “best not drive yet. Just in case.”

“I’m fine.”

“I know but, for my peace of mind, just sleep a little longer and then hydrate.”

“When are you coming back?”

“Next week, at the latest. Go back to sleep.”

She stood and grabbed her suitcase handle. His chest tightened; her impending departure upset him in a way he couldn’t fathom. No concrete ties bound them; they’d made no promises. Kate’s face at the airport yesterday, “this could be it,” pinged around in his brain.

“Hey Sapulpa?”

She turned towards him, a moment from reaching for the doorknob.

“Don’t go.”

She again released the suitcase, sauntered to him, and stood between his legs. He tilted his face up, and her hands rested on either side of his face, sending tingles down his neck. Her thumbs brushing over his ears, her lips hovered so near to his, he thought he might be dreaming. Her eyes drifted shut, waiting generously for Tyler to seal the deal. He closed the centimeter between their mouths, crashing his soft warm lips into hers. Their kiss went from chaste to passionate in less than half a second, and Tyler pulled her down to straddle him upon the bed. He leaned back, taking her with him, and quickly flipped her beneath him, all without breaking the slow, wet, deep kisses they pressed upon each other. Their ministrations rounded corners neither had intended when Kate broke the kiss. His mouth detoured to her neck biting and kissing up to her ears, and she struggled to find coherent speech.

“I’d like to stay right here with you,” she huffed, breathless, “but, I, I have to go Tyler.”

“I know,” he kissed her cheeks, chin, nose and mouth, again, softly and too briefly.

“Next week?” He asked voice thick with desire, as she unclasped her legs from around his waist, realizing with chagrin she’d caged him in a thigh-vise.

“At the latest,” she smiled into his mouth, and he pulled her up to standing with him.

His brawny arms still trapped her against him when a knock at the door drew them back to reality.

He sighed, his nose nuzzling hers, “Javi’s impatient.”

“Reporting for duty!” Boone yelled through the door.

Tyler raised an eyebrow, pulling his face back to meet her eyes, “I don’t need a babysitter.”

She gripped his face in her palms, lovingly running her thumbs along his jaw, “I know you’re not feeling the effects anymore, but the half-life of Rohypnol is like twenty hours, if that’s even what he dosed you with. It just, it scares me Tyler. I can’t stay with you, but I don’t want you to be alone.”

He softened at her vulnerability, planted one last slow and impossibly gentle kiss upon her lips and whispered, “better let him in then.”

She opened her motel door to Boone’s enormous smile, “Heya Kate. Javi’s chomping at the bit down there; he says you’ll miss your flight if you don’t get a move on.”

“Thank you for getting here so fast,” she gave him a quick hug.

“No problemo,” he nodded and plopped down in the office chair, spun around once entirely, and then watched Kate and Tyler exchange a languishing look.

“Sent me your proposal?”

She smiled at him from the doorway, suitcase in hand, “yep.”

He returned her smile, “Call me when you land?”

“I will. Hydrate. Rest.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

When the door clicked to a close behind her, his heart ached, but with less finality.

“So? Did you do it? Did you kiss her?”

“C’mon, Boone, you know I don’t kiss and tell.”

“Yeah, but did you? Did you kiss her?”

“Course I kissed her,” he smiled proudly, falling back into bed to the sound of Boone’s signature “yip!”

One week, at the most.

Hell, he’d been searching for her his whole life; what was another week?

AUTHOR’s NOTE:

This was just supposed to be a fluffy lil fic I would return to whenever I got frustrated writing my other fics. Didn’t mean for it to turn into 5k words monster fic. Feed this writer with your comments, if you feel so inspired. I love reading your feedback.

[misguidedasgardian]

I want to teal the bride (6)

6. Haunted castles, freaking trees.

MASTERLIST

Summary: The last shot

Pairings: Aemond Targaryen x BestFriend!Reader

Warnings: cursing, use of “stereotypes”, scottish costumes and practices passed by “Northeners” customs, we are going to kiss many strangers in this chapter, also a tradition, 

Aemond wants to steal the bride, so I will put in cheating, dub-con touching (on Aemond by someone else), people drinking heavily, might miss some warnings, but you know what this is about

Wordcount: 7.7 k

Notes: Sorry for the delay, I have all the structure on this one, so it's easy to write! the best part? this is helping me get back into the HOTD fandom, because I’m trying to take the characters but not the awful storyline of the story! so this is helping me get back on the hotd train!

Aegon fanned Aemond’s face as it was clear that the heat was getting to his brother, as he tried to keep everything on him and together, he had his passport and boarding pass in one hand, his man purse in the other as he was trying to grab onto his carry on. As all his friends around him were trying to help him in the entrance to the departure part of the airport.

“What about the dresses?”, Aemond asked Addam

“WPS is delivering them tomorrow morning, I gave you the tracking number”, he said sympathetically, fixing the strap on his man purse that had fallen off, the leather threatening to touch the ground. 

“I got it, I got it, I got it!”, said Aemond as he was getting more overwhelmed despite his friends’ efforts to help him 

“Alright, when you get up there, there is going to be special transport to take you to the Stark’s state, where (y/n) will be waiting for you”, said Criston. The entire of that sentence didn’t pleased Aemond at all, but he nodded

“Okay, great”, he said, finally getting it together, he didn’t know how the ladies did it. Aegon then passed him his coffee and all the balance he had manage to have, went out the window

Aegon went back to Criston’s jeep and took out his own bag

“What are you doing?”, asked Aemond

“You don’t think I was going to let you go alone to the most important mission of your life, right?”, he asked with a wicked smiled, and when Aemond looked around his group of friends he realized they were all in on it

“(y/n) is going to freak if you crash her wedding”, warned Aemond

“Hey, we go way back, she told me it was cool”, he said simply. Aemond nodded. “Let’s bring your girl back home”, he said with a cheeky smile. 

“Go get them, maid of honor!”, chanted Addam

“Yeah!”, chanted Criston, who was living the saying, “if you can’t beat them, join them”

“Make this the perfect wedding… And steal the bride!”, said Adam

“Thanks, guys”, said Aemond with a little smile, and the four of them all hugged tightly, “Thanks for everything, man”, muttered Aemond to Addam’s ear

And with the help of several small liquor bottles and a sleeping pill for Aegon, and good headphones and his notebook filled with notes for Aemond, they managed to pull through the flight without bigger complications. 

The rest of the bridesmaids were on the flight too, Aemond just say hello and was thankful that Aegon didn’t notice them until they landed and he looked like a mess with his sleeping mask around his forehead like an idiot, and his dragon shaped sleeping pillow around his neck.

They took the big van together, alongside a part of the bridal party, they didn’t even go into the city, taking an alternative highway, just giving them the main idea of what the capital of the north looked like. 

The scenery was beautiful, kilometers of golden tundra, enchanted looking forests, big rivers, a mountain range decorating the horizon, it was breathtaking. 

“Wow, this is like a fairy tale”, admired Walda looking through the window with her big eyes. “(Y/N) is so lucky”, she sighed dreamily 

“I know”, said Baela, “I wish I was her”, she whispered

“I thought things with Jacaerys were going great”, asked Wlada

“They are, but he doesn’t own a castle in the north!”, she giggled, and they all giggled with her 

“We'll come visit her”, said Cersei, keeping her composure, looking around with a pleased smile on her face

“I know”, said Baela, grabbing the blonde’s hand in hers and squeezing. “All the time”. But then all of a sudden, like mixing with the surroundings, stood a huge dark stone castle, it was the biggest castle Aemond had ever seen, even bigger than the Red Keep.

“That's his house!?”, asked Aegon, taking out his sunglasses and placing them on its head 

“No. I think this is the summer house?”, asked Walda, Aegon shared looks with Aemond

“The Starks have homes for each season”, said the driver, “This summer home is the smallest. They also have an autumn home, winter home, spring…”

“I know the seasons, buddy”, interrupted Aemond

“Somebody's richer than you, Aemond, I guess you gotta go invent something even stupider”, mocked Cersei

“The entire castle was actually built in 3987 before the conquest”, kept saying Theon

“This is incredible, isn't it?”, asked Cersei when she got off the van and into the beautiful stone entrance. Aegon looked between the castle with admiration and his brother with fear, but anyways, he was happy to be here.

Also, from the other car, got out your mother and grandmother, Aemond tried to get to them, but Cregan was quick to help your grandmother Pearl, as she nodded, enchanted by his Northerner charm. 

And there you were, waiting by a small army of staff, with a wide smile and open arms to receive your friends, Aemond was last, but he held you tight, kissing you in the corner of your mouth lovingly. 

“I’m so glad you are here!”, you said excitedly, you looked so happy, and Aemond wanted to believe that it was because you were receiving your friends, and nothing else. “Aegon! so happy you crashed my wedding!”, you said happily, hugging him tightly, what was one more, right?

Cregan greeted him as well with a handshake and a hug, and then he led them all inside of the huge castle

“This castle has been in my family for generations…”, Aemond only rolled his good eye as he listened to him mumble 

“Grandma Pearl, Joan, this is my mother, Gilliane and my father, Rickon”, he said, as Aemond noticed than in a big hall that might as well be a two story tall living room, where Cregan’s family, waiting to receive them 

“How do you do?”

“How do you do?”, greeting flied there and there

“Nice to meet you, Joan”, greeted the severe looking guy, Rickon

“Nice to meet you. Welcome”, greeted Gilliane 

“Everyone”, Cregan called the attention of everyone in the room, “I want you to meet someone who is special to my (Y/N) and has been a lifelong friend, and now her maid of honor: Aemond”, he said proudly, raising his cup. Aemond smiled awkwardly, as suddenly all the eyes of the room were on him. 

“Yes”, he mumbled, nodding

“Did he just say he's the maid of honor? He's a bloke”, Rickon Stark whispered to his wife Gilliane, she just shrugged 

“How do you do?”, he greeted both with a tense smile

“Very good, thank you”

“RIckon”, presented the man

“Rickon, pleasure” 

“Thank you.”

“Definitely gay”, Rickon whispered in his wife’s ear. You could hear Aegon’s laugh at that. 

There was also the family of Gilliane, the Boltons there, and some family on the side of RIckon, his brother Ned, and his family as well. 

“Oh, and these are the bridesmaids: Walda, Baela and Cersei”, Cregan presented to his parents

“How do you do?”, greeted Baela 

“Oh, hello”, greeted Gilliane 

“Hi”, greeted Walda

“Nice that you could come”, greeted Rickon

“How do you do?”, greeted Gilliane

“So, what do you think?”, you asked Aemond as you finally had him by your side

“I think they think I'm gay”, he answered, who had clearly heard Rickon Stark

“What?”, you giggled

“Listen, can we get together? Talk, catch up?”, asked Aemond, you were going to answer, but you were interrupted 

“Aemond, do you wanna see your chamber?”, asked Cregan, smiling at him. 

“Oh, love to. Thank you”, he said, looking at you asking for help, but you didn’t ‘help’ him as Cregan dragged him away

“Follow me”

“So… (y/n)”, called Aegon wrapping his arm around your shoulders, you smiled at him, “are you really going to move to this icy tundra?”, he asked, you frowned

“I think so, yeah”, you said simply

“You know a castle this old must be hunted”, he said then, “are you ready to live in a haunted castle?”, he asked, you looked at him and giggled, he was clearly joking.

“I think I can handle it”, you said, and then you left him with an apologetic look and went to mingle with your future family by law.

Aegon took out of his pocket his small notepad, and a small pencil, scratching “haunted castle”, out of his ‘reasons’ for you not to marry this northerner prick. 

“Right, onto the next… northerner food sucks”, he said proudly. 

The introductions had gone well, you believed. You were terribly nervous, not only because of your friends, but because of your family as well. But they all seemed to get along just fine. At least that's what Cregan told you when he kissed you goodnight.

Cregan haven't ‘touched’ you since you arrived at Winterfell, in King’s Landing he seemed he wasn’t able to keep his hands to himself, but now that you weren on this millinery castle, he seemed to be more reserved, like he was trying you, he made you feel like some sort of horny slut, so each night he would kiss your temple at the door of your room and then he would go, and let you to fend for yourself in this cold room. 

But now your friends are here, and the thought made you feel better, you had a big day ahead, and with that on your mind, you went to sleep. 

As a future bride of a very important Northerner family, you had to put up with many traditions of the ancient house Stark, it was fine by you, it was, you knew what you were getting into… but you never expected this.

You started coughing as the hair dressed bathed you in setting spray,a after fixing your hair in a very northerner fashion 

“Thank you”, said Gillaine, but she just wouldn’t stop, you couldn’t even see, “thank you!”, she said, grabbing the spray and throwing it across the room, the poor hairdresser just nodded at her. 

“Now, then”, she said, fixing your hair, “I think just a few more sprigs of gypsophila at the front there”, she indicated, placing little flowers on top of your forehead. “Lovely” she said once she was content. 

You didn’t like it, not one bit, and it got worse when you looked at your friend’s reactions through the mirror. 

“What do you guys think?”, you asked, hopefully 

“Oh, it is gorgeous”, Baela jumped first

“You look amazing”, said Cersei, nodding with her solemn face

“It is so pretty”, offered Walda, and she is the only one who seemed sincere. “With the veil… it’s going to look great”, she said, and that did make you feel better.

Like you were saying, you didn't want to fight your future family for this, you wanted to be pliant, but this wasn’t like you at all, you just hoped that Cregan would appreciate it. 

“It's so shiny, it's gorgeous”, compliments kept flying but Aemond stood there, without saying a word. 

“What do you think?”, you asked him, finally waking him up from his stupor

“Of?”, he asked

“The hair”, you clarified.

“Yeah, it, um…”, oh he hated it

The nice lady who was helping you with the hair pulled you away to help you get in your dress, so she wasn’t only a hairdresser, interesting. 

They all helped you get in a puffy dress, and when it was done, a woman put a sash around you, with the colors gray, soft old green, black and white.

“This sash will go on the dress”, said Gillaine, taking the job of fixing it around you herself.

“Really?”, you asked her

“Tradition”, she said simply 

In the meantime, Baela grabbed Aemond who looked completely horrified as he watched you try that awful looking dress, sash and hair-do

“What's up with the hair?”, he asked Baela, but Cersei came in, who pinched him in the arm aggressively, making him whine, “Well, I'm not entirely sure that…”

“You're the maid of honor. It's good to just be supportive…”, encouraged Baela with a look that wasn’t at all so encouraging, she looked like she wanted to kill him. 

“I'm supportive”, he defended

“I don't think you are”, came in Cersei. 

“I think I am”, he said back

“No, listen to me”, she said, “this is hard for her as well but this are traditions of the family she is marrying into, and we would be helping her a lot making those decisions more easily for her to make”, she said with greeted teeth, “got it?”, she asked, threatening to pinch him again

“Yes! got it!”, he said quickly. Then the four of them turned to you, who were looking back at them with hope in your beautiful eyes, only you could make all that tragedy look beautiful 

“You're doing great, you're doing great”, he assured, and only that could pull a smile on your face. Aemond called your name and you turned to him expectantly. “Actually, you know?, your hair looks amazing”, he said gently, gods he was a good lair. 

“Really?”, you asked him

“Yes”, he said, nodding solemnly, and you smiled, now more reassuring. 

The door to the small chamber opened, and a woman appeared with her hands full of beautiful looking fabrics 

“Oh, the games will be starting soon!”, said Gilliane, “here are your costumes”

“Games?”, asked Aemond, but his voice was drowned by your friends’ excitement 

“Costumes!”, chanted Baela

“Costumes?”, asked Aemond again, “what do you mean "games"?”, asked Aemond to Gilliane 

“Oh, the Northerner Games dear!”, she said simply, “It's a tradition in honor of the wedding, it goes right back to the time when the groom had to prove that he was man enough to deserve the bride, If he didn't win, he didn't get the bride”, she said proudly, “No problem for my Cregan though”, she said simply. 

Alright, he could do it, he never had trouble with this sort of thing. 

So the afternoon found you in a big valley, filled to the brim with people. You were wearing a long dress, it was more of a costume, as it was something the ladies would have worn five hundred years ago. You were even wearing a headdress. 

“Welcome, one and all, to the Northerner Games!”, a voice with a thick accent could be heard through speakers, “men have traveled from all four corners of this great country to compete in feats of strength and agility! But only one warrior will be man enough to claim the bride! One competitor who needs no introduction is our very own Cregan Stark!”, all around the grounds the people cheered, as you did, who were sitting on wooden bleachers 

“Doesn't my Cregan look handsome?”, Gilliaine asked you, you nodded. All the men were wearing traditional northerner clothes, kilts, being a part of said outfits. 

“Yes”, you said dreamly, you never thought a man wearing a skirt could look so manly, but there he was. And then there was Aemond.

You opened your mouth in shock when you saw him 

“Coming up the rear, all the way from King’s Landing, (Y/N)'s maid of honor... Aemond, who, I think you'll all agree, is wearing a rather fetching wee minikilt!”, a man said out loud, he was indeed wearing what you would consider a miniskirt. 

“Who was in charge of that?”, you asked, horrified, as all the men women and children present in the games were laughing at him. 

“I have no idea”, said Cersei with a smirk

Aegon on the other hand, was having the time of his life in a kilt with the colors of his own southerner house, with a black background and red and golden lines. and a white button up shirt and leather jacket, and he had his sunglasses on, and of course he was getting the looks of all the ladies there as they presented him.

“And the games begun!”

It was mainly a show of strength, throwing things, pulling things… and with the hilarious comments of a local man with a microphone. 

First they had to throw a metal block over a tall hurdle. 

Aegon comically lost all the games he participated in, but he did with such gusto, that everyone just cheered him on, he was stealing the show

“Yeah, you're sexy!”, someone shouted, you believed it was Baela, as he flexed his almost non existing muscles to the crowd 

“Everybody giving their all!”, said the presenter, Cregan’s uncle Ned Stark, as the competition this time was using a bow and an arrow. And the one who managed to land three arrows near the center was the winner.

Aemond was a little rusty, but he defended himself quite nicely, but again, Cregan proved to be unbeatable as he landed the three arrows in the smaller red circle in the center 

“And as we are heading to the third competition, we're running neck and neck! A Northerner against a Southerner!”

It was a long, long day.

Aegon lost quite easily, but he was now being comforted by three Northerner ladies who were congratulating him on his performance. 

And the rest of the games? let’s just say it was the longest day in Aemond’s life

He had done everything they asked of him, he pulled a rope accompanied by four other men against Cregan’s best five.

He climbed a huge log with only the use of his hands and legs, he was sure the eternity of the North had seen his underwear. He threw a huge cannon ball across the green field… and many, many others.

Most of the men had withdrawn from the race already, but not him, oh no, not him, he couldn’t, he needed to prove, to all these northerners, and to you, that he was “man enough”, to marry you, yes, he needed to prove that. 

“Ladies and gentlemen, the result of today's Winterfell Games rests upon the caber toss!”, finally, the final test, he thought, as he wiped sweat from his brow

He might be the outsider, he might be wearing a ridiculously short kilt, but he was still in the competition, and he was going to prove how deserving he was. 

“The competition is down to two competitors! Aemond! and Cregan!”

But oh fuck is this wasn’t the icing of the cake, when Aemond finally realised what he had to do to prove himself. 

“A tree? We're tossing a tree?”, asked Aemond, who could barely get his breath on check

“Yeah”, said Cregan happily, and Aemond cursed him hard on his mind, because again, he wasn’t even trying! He was giving his best in trying to compete against Cregan, but he didn’t even see him as a competitor, and it wasn’t even mean about it, he just didn’t care, he was nice like that. 

Cregan grabbed the three, with effort, he could see that, but then he took two strong steps and threw the damn thing across the field, that thing took two tumbles, making it like 20 meters. 

“What a toss!”, congratulated the presenter, “What a toss! Way to go, Cregan!”

He saw with discouragement how all the ladies of the bleachers, including you, were chanting Cregan’s name with excitement.

But they were going to be chanting his in no time, he knew it. 

“He's strong!”, teased Cersei to your ear, you just nodded excitedly, you had already seen what those arms could do, and it looked promising.

“Well, then, Aemond! Let's see what you're made of! The whole competition rests on this throw”, said Ned with excitement. 

He was possibly petrified at the very thought.

But this was it

“Look alive, lassie!”, he said someone called for him.

“Come on, Aemond!”, oh finally, that was your sweet voice! calling his name, he had to make this throw! he had to! 

“Okay, I can do this. I can do this”, he chanted as a mantra, if he could throw this tree, this huge log, then he could confess to you his love, he could. Two men passed him the log, and he grabbed it as he could.

He had to grab it by the base, that way he was going to throw it more easily, he knew it, but gods if that was hard to do!

“Okay, here we go!”

He stumbled, the shit was heavy, very heavy, he stumbled once more as all the voices around him got quiet all of a sudden

“COME ON AEMOND YOU CAN DO IT!”, he heard the voice of his brother Aegon, cheering him on 

“Okay. Okay, okay. I got it.”, he said, more to himself, this might as well be the hardest thing he had ever done

“Here we go!”, the presenter said as he started to take more determined steps, to get momentum to throw the log, “HERE WE GO!”, he heard, excitedly.

he did as he could, he did, he threw it will all his might, with all his determination 

The log flew through the air. But Aemond had stumbled a bit before he released it, so all the people there gathered to watch in horror as the log landed on top of a car. 

A freaking car!

It completely destroyed it 

“Oh, dear. That's gonna cost the Southerner the girl”, he said through the speakers. 

“What an ass!”, mocked Cersei 

And just like that… he lost the freaking games, he looked back at you with fear in his eyes and you looked completely surprised at the sudden turn of events. 

“And the winner of the Wintertown Games is our very own Cregan Stark!”, called the presenter, and again, everyone cheered, his friends came in to hug him, and congratulated him. But Cregan ran to you, to get a sweet kiss from your lips which you happily gave him.

That certainly deter Aemond’s spirit significantly

That very night, you were having dinner at the great hall back in Winterfell castle. 

Cregan stood up, and sang, he actually sang to you, and to all the guests of the wedding, he had a beautiful deep voice, and the song he chose was more of a poem, but it was stunning nonetheless. As he finished, he looked at you, and kissed you softly on the lips

“Well done, my boy”, said Gillaine with a soft voice as the rest of his family threw praises left and right

Is there anything he wasn’t good at? thought Aemond sulkily from his seat, hiding his disgust in his cup of wine. 

“Robert Burns, who wrote that song, is Winterfell's most famous poet”, Cregan said to you, you just smiled at him in thanks for this beautiful song he had dedicated to you

“So Cregan”, asked his aunt from the other side of the table, “when are you going to graze us with children, uh?”, she asked, looking at you

“Well, (Y/N) wants to wait a few years first”, he said softly, surrounding your shoulders with his thick arm

“Why? she is not getting any younger!”, you almost spilled your drink, “and you know, how you should name him once he is born”, you didn't know what to say to all of that, but Cregan could sense your tension

“No, no, auntie, we haven't had any children yet, so we haven't got any names”, he said softly, and you appreciated that, but you didn’t like the direction the conversation was taking. 

“Athol”, the woman said to you, taking you a-back, this she just called you an asshole?

“Excuse me?”, you asked her 

“It's a name for the children”, said Cregan quickly 

“Athol”, the woman repeated, and you looked at Cregan horrified, he couldn’t mean that, could he? It sounded like an asshole!

“Yeah, no, we won't be naming our child Athol”, you said quickly, “maybe when he's a teenager”, you offered, Cregan laughed by your side, but you could tell he was faking it. 

“My mother's cousin was the Duke of Athol”, said Cregan’s aunt, “We're a long line of Athols”, yes they were. 

You were feeling overwhelmed, you got no say in your hair, or your dress, or the sash, or the traditions, and apparently, not the name of your own child.

But as you looked at Cregan, he was worth it, he was the sweetest man you had met…

But gods, why the name for the children?

“Well, maybe... maybe we'll keep it in the mix, eh?”, Cregan asked you, “Maybe as a middle name?”, you didn't know if he was being serious or not, but you just nodded, not very much enthusiastic

“So, (Y/N), do you like the venison?”, Gilliane asked you over Cregan. And you were just thankful the topic had changed

“It's delicious”, you offered

“Cregan shot it. He's a wonderful shot”, she said with a smile, and you were petrified

“Oh, stop, mom, you'll make me blush”, muttered Cregan

“And this is the moment, I've just remembered”, she said, taking out his phone

“What moment's that?”, you asked her, as she pulled her phone to you

“When Cregan killed the deer, I filmed it”, you jumped when a shot rang through the speakers, “Right between the eyes”, oh right you saw it happening on the screen, “In fact, everything we are eating this evening, Cregan has killed!”, she announced to everyone at the table, and they all seemed fascinated 

“Cregan!”, called Rickon, raising his glass

“To Cregan!”, they all echoed, raising their own glasses 

“In your honor, (Y/N)”, Cregan said lovingly, and you wished you could be honored, but you were horrified. 

“That is so thoughtful”, you said with a wide smile, placing a hand on your chest, “I'm so sorry I didn't kill anything for you”, you offered, Cregan only chuckled. 

The desserts were being served, interrupting you once again

“Oh, gosh. What did you get?”, you asked him lovingly, and you looked with a smile as Cregan got a slice of chocolate cake.“Oh, I love chocolate!”, you took your fork as you intended on taking a piece of his place. But to your horror, he stopped you

“Don't... Don't do that”, he said, and you froze on your spot, “If you want some…”, he said, grabbing a tiny bit with his own fork, and placed it on a plate between the two of you. “Here, give you some. Okay?”, you pouted 

Aemond couldn’t believe what he was seeing.

He wasn’t even relieved anymore, because his job was getting easier, he couldn’t believe this dude! 

After that messy dinner, you all got your drinks at the next room, a cart filled with bottles of the distillery, a hunting room by the looks of it. The thing was filled with stuffed animals and heads of deers on the walls, hunting trophies. 

Aemond and Aegon looked at the room with interesting look on his faces

“Look nothing happened when I told her about the haunted castle, that didn’t work, so… I’ll keep trying”, Aemond just looked at his brother wondering how more dumb he could get, but then he just nodded. His eyes then found you, who was being boarded by your future father in law and his brother. 

“Go save her”, said Aegon, Aemond nodded and went straight for you

“Excuse me”, he said as he passed by members of Cregan’s family, getting to you, “Hi”, he greeted, the men just nodded, acknowledging him, “A wonderful dinner, by the way”, said Aemond

“Delighted, Aemond”, muttered Rickon

“And your wife is looking for you”, he said quickly. 

“Oh, thank you very much”, he said, and the patriarch of house Stark finally left you alone to look for his wife, his brother following in tow. 

“Nice one”, you said, he smirked

“Cheers”, you clink your glass with his, and then downing your scotch

“A little birdie tells me Cregan personally slayed each one of these reindeer heads”, he said, looking around the room

“Aemond”, you warned

“You're right… When I say a little birdie told me, he would've told me, but Cregan shot it”, he mocked. You were not commenting on it, so he changed the subject, “Listen, seriously. Can we go somewhere private and talk? It's important”

“Yeah”, he looked serious

“Shall we go?”, he asked, you nodded, but before you could slip away, the sound of… some horrible musical instrument interrupted you

“What is that?”, growled Aemond. And there he was, Cregan accompanied with a couple of his cousins, playing a musical instrument based on wind that was just awful.

“Oh, for all the gods”, you muttered. The sound was truly haunting, but you could tell he was putting on a show for you, and your guests 

“You know, he's been playing the windpipes ever since he was 3 years old”, Gillaine told you, you just smiled and nodded, “practices every night”, you quickly stopped smiling

“Every night?”, you asked her, horrified. You couldn’t bear the thought of hearing mating seagulls every single night 

“Oh, never misses”, she said proudly. 

Aegon was dead-ass covering his ears with a disturbed look on his face, and your grandmother didn’t look so impressed either. When it was finally over, he took his hands out of his ears, and looked at the glow in the dark necklace your grandmother was wearing

“What kind of necklace is that?”, Aegon asked, looking at grandma's Pearls necklace.

“They're glow-in-the-dark thunder beads”, she said proudly, and Aegon just laughed loudly, wrapping his arm around Pearl’s, “let’s get you a drink my friend”

“Finally!”, she said, “don’t tell my daughter!”, Aegon laughed again

“I won’t! just don’t get frisky with me!”, he warned in a tone of a joke, Pearl just smiled, but he laughed when he felt the hand of the grandma going more ‘south’ than his back, “watch those hands grandma!”, he laughed. 

The gathering ended shortly after, and you found yourself getting ready for bed in your room, when a soft knock on the door interrupted you. You open the door and it was your mother

“Oh, hi, mom”, you greeted

“I have something for you”, she said softly, you both sat on the big bed, and she showed you a photo album she had, “This is so you can have a little piece of home with you”, you eyes filled with tears as you looked at her 

“Thank you”, you said softly. You started looking through the pictures, 

“Oh, look at you”, she said, “you were so small”, you were lacking some teeth and were smiling right at the camera… “There's you and Cersei”, both of you were on your uniforms for your first day of school, “You were about 5 there”, you kept looking at the precious memories. “Oh, do you remember this? It was taken at the lake when your father broke his arm because of that silly motorcycle of his”, she said, looking at the picture taken at the God’s eye

“I miss dad so much”, you whined wiping a tear off of your face as you saw a picture of him. 

“Me too, sweetheart”, she said, caressing your arm

“I just wish he could've been here”, you whispered, “he was always so worried I was never gonna meet anyone”, you said with a soft chuckled

“Oh, no, he wasn't”, she said dismissively, she then pointed at a picture, “Oh, that's Braavos”, it was a picture of the three of you under the Braavos’ Colossus, and then when you turned the page there was a picture of you and Aemond, shortly after you finished college, “He could be so off-base sometimes”, she said mindlessly 

“What? why?”, you asked her

“Well, it's just… he was always convinced that you were gonna marry Aemond”, she said gently, you just looked back at her, wide-eyed

“Really?”, you asked her, she just smiled sadly at you

“I'll see you in the morning”, she said lovingly, “Good night, my angel”, she kissed your temple and left you.

A wave of sadness engulfed you, were you really mad? moving halfway across the whole continent? leaving your family behind? your mom and your grandmother? you were the only thing they had left. And there was no possible way they’d move up here… you just hugged yourself and tried to sleep. 

“It's pulling off a Band-Aid. You just have to close your eyes and do it”, Aemond closed his eyes as he took a long sigh

“But I just haven't found the right time”, he explained to the phone

“What are you talking about, "right time"? Any time is the right time to say "I love you. Marry me."

“Right”, but Aemond wasn’t convinced 

“Come on, what are you there for, man? Take the shot, win the game, and bring her home. And stop running up my long-distance phone bill with these crazy calls!”, said Addam, “besides, you got Aegon right there with you!”

“Right. Right, right, okay”, he said simply, “Thanks, Addam”, 

“You can do this, Aemond! You can do this, you can do this”, he repeated until his friend believed him

“What's wrong with me?”, whined Aemond, he was not believing it

“You can do this. You can do this!”, he kept repeating. He hung up the phone and put it in his pocket, and then turned around and you were walking towards him.

“Hey”, you greeted softly

“Hey”, he said back, oh when he looked at you he felt like the world stopped, and there was nothing more important than you. “Hey, I thought we could go for a walk and, uh, work on the vows”, he offered, it was a beautiful afternoon, the sunset was about to happen and the day was very calm

“Good idea. I could use some help”, you said with a soft smile. 

“Yeah? Good, okay”, you walked with your arm coiled with his, towards the beautiful lake that surrounded the property. You sat on a beautiful bench with the views of the sunset and you presented your ideas to him, that you had scribbled on your notepad

“So… what do you think?”, you asked him

“I think a lot of things”, he said simply, relaxed because you didn’t know what to say in your own vows, and he took that as a good sign. He looked at you, you looked beautiful under this light, and he knew… this was his moment, it had to be

“I've been working on them all week, and I think they're actually getting worse”, you said, discouraged. No matter how hard you thought about it, the words just wouldn’t come to you, you felt so strongly about Cregan and yet… nothing you could put into words. 

“Yeah”, he mumbled, looking straight at you, but you were looking ahead. 

“At first, I went for the emotion, then I thought, oh, God, what if Cregan doesn't?”, you kept rambling

“Yeah”, he didn’t care, the only thing he cared about was you

“And then I tried to be funny, well, I don't know if the Northmen have the same sense of humor as King’s Landers”, you tried, “So now I'm back to something basic, and I totally think I veered off into something boring”, you didn’t know what to say, but he did, this was it.

“I'm crazy about you”, he said quickly, looking into your eyes, you were just looking ahead into the horizon, “I think about you all the time. And I want to spend the rest of my life with you”, he tried then. He saw you frown

“Really?”, you asked him, finally looking back at him

“Really”, he said firmly, alright, this was it… his moment

“That's so generic”, you said then, and Aemond’s face was now horrified 

“Generic?”, he asked

“Yeah”, you said, oblivious to his confession, you thought he was just helping you with your vows

“Generic?”, he asked again

“It totally is”, you said back

“How can that be generic?”, he asked 

“It sounds like something somebody is supposed to say as opposed to what you're really feeling”, you said, looking at the sunset, trying to get inspired

“All right, how about, uh…”, alright this was it, his moment, “nobody in the world makes me laugh the way you do, you're my best friend, I just want to be with you”, he blurred it out, and you didn’t think how that could apply to Cregan, but then you noticed the way Aemond was looking at you.

“What?”, you asked him, did he mean it? he could not possibly mean it.

“Look out, look out, look out!”, you heard the screeching of Baela, making you turn on your seat. 

“There she is! (Y/N), let's go!”, called Cersei, and Aemond looked like he wanted to take a swim at the lake. They all surrounded you, they had a cape in their hands and a strange pot

“What is this?”, he asked, completely horrified

“This is her "taking out.", said Walda

“Her what?”, asked Aemond

“We dress her up and then we parade her around one of the pubs”, explained Walda

“That's weird”, he mumbled

“It's tradition!”, she corrected

“And then we fill a toilet with salt and we sell your kisses for change!”, said Baela

“Really? They sell your kisses?”, asked Aemond, “that is unhygienic”

“Yup”, said Baela, “can’t wait!”

“Come on, it's like a Northerner bachelorette party”, you offered to Aemond, who was again, completely horrified. Your friends started to pull you back towards the castle, and he followed in tow. Cars where waiting for you to take you to the town

“Okay!, come on!”, cheered Baela, to Aemond’s surprise, Aegon joined in, and the six of you went partying

The pub was classic looking, and extremely old, but it had his charm, it was the most popular bar in town. Your friends had dressed you with a colorful and traditional “maiden cape”, with the colors of your soon to be husband’s House. 

As you entered the bar everyone there looked at you

“All right, let's sell some kisses!”, said Baela excitedly. 

“Uh! can I sell my kisses too?”, asked Aegon, looking around finding beautiful women. 

This huge guy put some coins in your bucket and then he kissed you quickly on the lips, taking your breath away, you really weren’t expecting it, he then spread his arms to the entire bar

“It's her taking out! She's got the breath of an angel!”, to your horror, everybody cheered. And then, a bunch of guys just started putting coins in your bucket and then stealing short close mouthed kisses.

At first it was weird, but as your friends started giving you scotch, it became funny, as more men, of all sizes, ages and heights stole kisses from you

You friends got in the bar, exchanging the coins for glasses of scotch, which they dawned quickly. 

“Another!”, chanted Aegon to the bartender as they asked for another round, enjoying the funds you were procuring with your kisses

“Another!”, said Cersei, “Thank you!”, she said, taking another drink to you that you just pushed back pretty quickly. 

“Come on man”, said Aegon, putting some coins in Aemond’s hand, “go for it, I’ll distract the flock”, he said quickly, Aemond nodded as he watched his brother stump back to the group of ladies and now he was truly thankful of having him here. 

And now he went straight for you, who had been walking towards a more deserted part of the old pub. He got in your way, trapping you in a tight hallway from one room to the next.

“This is all I have”, Aemond said, placing a couple of golden dragons on your pot, you looked at him wide-eyed, he leaned in, and trapped your lips on his. 

He was doing it for fun, he always kisses you like this, it was… but then why was he encasing your face with his hands?

You didn’t even realize when you dropped your pot and all its contents as you hugged Aemond tightly against you, the kiss turned more heated, as you opened your mouth to receive his eager tongue.

He placed his hands on your hips and stuck you to him, as you never wanted this to end…

Did he mean it? everything he had said?

“Oh, my gosh, you guys!”, you separated as the other was on fire when you heard Baela’s screech, you dropped to your knees to gather the contents of your pot, the coins and the salt. Aemond was right there to help you. 

You feel your friend’s hands on you as you get back on your feet. 

“We have to get more kisses!”, said Baela, and you were relieved that she didn't see anything. 

“Kisses!”, screamed Walda

“More kisses!”

“Kisses!”, and you didn’t dare to look at Aemond for the rest of the night. 

Aemond knew it was coming, he knew you, he knew you were going to come for him tonight, so when he heard a knock on the door, he smiled softly, he prepared himself, took a long breath, and then opened the door, but it wasn’t you on the other side… 

“I can't take it anymore!”, mumbled Cersei drunkenly 

“What are you doing?”, he asked, genuinely scared

“Let's do it again. For old times' sake”, she said, she was only wearing a long coat, and when she took it off, it was only lingerie underneath. 

“Don't take that off!”, he said, trying to cover his eyes

“No, Aemond, I need to make this up to you!”, she said,t aking his hand to take them out of his face

“Don't take this… off”, he muttered, but she was all over him, she pushed him to the bed and he fell on his back 

“I'm really unhappy!”, she cried, this was just a mess

“That's fine”, offered Aemond, “let’s just not do this”

“No, it's okay!”, she said, trying to kiss him, she was over him in a second, pushing him harder against the bed 

“Aemond, I'm not happy at all”, she said, between kisses she was trying to land on his face. Aemond did try to push her off of him, but he didn’t want to be rough, after all, she was a lady, and he didn’t want to hurt her. “And I am in a really, really confusing place in my life right now”, she kept with her monologue that frankly, he didn’t understand. 

“Confusing?”, he asked then

“Listen, I have had some whisky…”, she explained messily, 

“I can tell…”, answered Aemond

“And I need you to service me”, she completed

“Service you!?”

“Service me, bitch!”, she demanded as she slapped him across the face. “Service me!”, that is when he noticed the door was opened, and Cersei was screaming

“Be quiet! Be quiet!”, he begged 

“You be quiet”, answered Cersei 

“Get off of me!”, he begged, “Just be quiet”, and when he was turning his face, he saw you, standing on the door frame, looking at the scene, completely heartbroken. 

“(Y/N)!”, he called, but you ran off. He then pushed Cersei to the floor as she landed in a fit of laughter

“Bring me more whiskys!”, she demanded front he floor, but he didn’t care, he ran after you

But he didn’t manage to catch you before you locked yourself in your room

“(Y/N)!”, he called but she just closed the heavy wooden door on his face, but that didn’t deter him, he knocked on the door hastily, “It's Aemond, let me in! Let me in!”, he begged. 

“Go away, Aemond”, you said, placing both your hands on the door to keep him out, despite the door being closed. 

“No, no, no, no, no, let me explain”, he said quickly, sticking his face to the ancient wood, “It's not what you think”, he couldn’t believe this was happening to him, after all of it, after all the work, after all the training, one single moment could ruin everything

“It doesn't matter now”, you said brokenly

“Yes, it does”, he said. “Why did you...?”, he needed to know, he needed to know why you looked for him tonight. 

“Just go!”, you begged, and this was just what you needed, you couldn’t believe you were willing to throw everything away with Cregan just for a fling with Aemond, you knew him, you knew how he was and still, you couldn’t help but think you were going to be different. Then you remembered painfully why you never could give him an inch of space. 

“I'll go. Just tell me, why did you come to my room?”, he asked him, but there was no answer, “(Y/N)? Why did you come to the room?”, he asked softly, he knew you, he did, he was getting answers.

“To talk about that kiss”m you answered softly

“Oh, (Y/N)”, he whispered lovingly, he knew if he could just see you now, he would convince you. “Please don't… Don't marry him”, there, he said it, he begged you to

“All these years, Aemond”, you cried out. After all these years, you loved him, you loved Aemond, and you had lost count of how many times you wished you could just let him in… but you never did. 

“Don't marry him”, he repeated

“All this time…. You're doing this now?”, you asked him

“I know”, he said. You could tell this was hard for him too, but that didn’t make the anger that was bubbling up inside you change. 

“How can you do this?”, you asked him. slapping your hand on the door

“I'm sorry, I'm sorry. Just let me in”, he begged. 

“No, I can't”, you whined, voice broken

“Let me in”, he begged softly

“You're only doing this now because you're afraid of losing me”, you accused, “I need someone

who's gonna be there for me no matter what happens”, you said, choking up in your own words, “Someone who truly... loves me… Someone I can trust”

“But (Y/N)... I…”, you stuck your ear to the door, waiting to hear him say it… but it never came  

“You can’t even say it”, you whispered, a tear falling down your eye, “I'm marrying Cregan tomorrow… Aemond”, you said more decisively, wiping your own tear from your eye

“I can't be your maid of honor”, you heard through the door, “I can't give you away to him, I can’t… I'm sorry, (Y/N)”, he whispered back. 

You heard his steps walking away and that when you slid down the door to the floor, tears kept falling down your eyes.

taglist!

@snh96 @sagelovesreading @toodlesxcuddles @ammo23 @bananzaa @ttkttt @at-a-rax-ia @n4tforlife @spn-obession @moonnicole

[merwgue]

Why Feyre Shouldn't Have Been High Lady of the Night Court (and Why Lucien & Elain Shouldn’t Lead the Day Court Without Putting in the Work)

Alright, let’s get one thing straight: being the High Lady or High Lord of a court isn’t about looking pretty, having magical powers, or being able to swing a sword. It’s not some fantasy crown you can just plop on your head and suddenly you’re ruling a kingdom. No, being a leader is about more than just political power—it’s about knowing the people, their culture, their traditions. It’s about being part of the community, not just ruling it from a fancy chair.

And that’s where we run into a problem with Feyre. I mean, bless her heart, but let’s be real: three months in the Night Court, and boom, she’s High Lady? It’s like showing up to a new job, sitting in a few meetings, and then declaring yourself CEO. Girl, you haven’t even figured out where the coffee machine is yet!

The Night Court has centuries of history, deep-rooted traditions, festivals, and customs that Feyre couldn’t possibly know in just a few months. She was still figuring out the whole “Inner Circle” dynamic and hadn’t really gotten to know the people or the intricacies of the court’s culture. And yet, she’s handed the title of High Lady like it’s a participation trophy. Sure, she may have bonded with Rhys and the gang, but knowing a few people in power isn’t the same as understanding the heart and soul of an entire court.

Leading isn’t just about power and politics—it’s about making people feel seen and heard. It’s about knowing what makes them tick, what they value, and how they celebrate. How can you guide people if you don’t even understand what they’re all about? How do you unite a court when you don’t know what unites them? Leadership isn’t just about making decisions; it’s about connecting with the people you’re leading. And let’s be real, if you don’t know the culture, you’re going to end up making some pretty awkward blunders along the way.

Now, let’s talk about Lucien and Elain, because if they become High Lord and High Lady of the Day Court without putting in some serious time there, I’m holding them to the same standard. I love Lucien, don’t get me wrong—he’s my cutey patootie—but leading a court isn’t just about showing up and throwing your weight around. Lucien hasn’t been a part of the Day Court as an adult, and Elain… well, let’s just say her resume in court politics is a little thin.

If Lucien and Elain waltz into the Day Court and start calling the shots without first understanding the history, the culture, and the people, it’s going to be a disaster. They need to spend some serious time under Helion’s wing, learning about the traditions and festivals, understanding what makes the Day Court tick. Otherwise, they’re just going to look like tourists trying to lead a country they don’t understand. It’s like trying to host a party in a house you’ve never been in before—you’re bound to knock over a few vases and spill some drinks.

And don’t even get me started on the whole "High Lady of the Night Court" situation again. Leading isn’t just about making political decisions or winning battles. It’s about fostering a sense of community. It’s about celebrating the court’s culture and traditions, making sure people feel united. If you don’t even know what those traditions are, how can you possibly lead? Feyre got the title before she had the chance to immerse herself in the Night Court’s customs, and that’s a problem. Imagine if she accidentally trampled over centuries-old traditions because she didn’t know any better? Awkward.

At the end of the day, leadership is earned, not handed out like candy at a parade. Feyre, Lucien, Elain—they all need to put in the time to really know the courts they’re leading. It’s not enough to just have power. You have to understand the people, the culture, the history. Otherwise, you’re just a figurehead with no real connection to the court. And let’s be real, nobody wants that.

So, no shade to my guy Lucien, but if he and Elain take the reins of the Day Court, they better put in some work. And Feyre? Well, maybe next time she could spend a few years learning the ropes before jumping straight to the top. It’s not like we’re in a rush or anything, right?

Ty @ae-neon for letting me take inspo of your idea💞❤️

[lostsyren]

ᯓ★ perfect a gold-digger!sofia concept

{summary: what if sofia’s primary motive was to live the kook life? and what if rafe was her ticket to that dream?}

{a/n: it was fun to characterise sofia in a different way– i personally don’t think she’s a gold digger, so i added a bit of a softer spin to the concept! let me know what you think and what else you’d like to see from her or rafe’s characters!}

˙⋆✮⋆˙⋆✮⋆˙⋆✮⋆˙⋆✮⋆˙⋆✮⋆˙ ˙⋆✮⋆˙⋆✮⋆˙⋆✮⋆˙⋆✮⋆˙⋆✮⋆˙ ˙⋆✮⋆˙⋆✮⋆˙⋆✮⋆˙

𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚 He was perfect. Massive house, flashy car, shiny watch– Rafe Cameron, the kook king of the Outer Banks.

Sofia initially admired from afar, it wasn’t hard to after all– Rafe was at the country club almost every day and being the club bartender meant she had front row seats to him. The way all eyes gravitated to his person everytime he entered a room, the hundred dollar bills he’d pull out as tips, the way everyone wanted to be his friend.

Sofia wanted that. Desperately. She’d moved from Mexico to the OBX a few months ago, with barely any money; the money she did have, she used to make a down payment of the small house she’d rented. After that, Sofia quickly learnt the lingo of locals. Kook, Pogue. The Cut, Figure 8. 𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚

She was a Pogue and her house was on The Cut.

And the golden, glittering people at the club were Kooks and the sprawling white edifices were all on Figure 8.

Sofia burned with bitterness everytime one of those rich assholes bossed her around at work–

Two beers asap

Are you deaf? I said on the rocks

I’d like my bill today lady

But Rafe was different. He was…nice. He learnt her name– Miss Sofia he’d call her– and he’d always leave a generous tip. It just made Sofia more resolute– she wouldn’t stay a Pogue any longer.

“You going to Rafe’s party tomorrow?” She overheard a group of kook guys chatter at the bar. Her shift was nearly over, the sky dark already, and her body exhausted. But she perked up on hearing this.

“The one over at Tannyhill? Yeah I’m down.”

That night she was leaving work, trying to figure out how she’d get into that party as she headed to her car. But then it was like fate had thrust her towards the answer. There approaching her, way down the parking lot, was no other than Rafe Cameron.

Her heart soared in her chest. This was her chance.

They were moments away from crossing each other, Rafe locking eyes with her, throwing her a small half-smile.

Do it, she screamed at herself.

“Hi,” she greeted with a sweet smile.

“Hey,” he responded. Sofia could tell he was caught off guard but he still remained polite. Aside from when he ordered drinks, the two never talked. This was new territory for the both of them.

“I didn’t see you at the club today?”

“Yeah– I uh had some business to sort out.” Rafe stopped, taking the moment to talk with her.

She nodded enthusiastically, shining her big, bright eyes at him.

“You missed me huh?” He said with a smirk.

She was in.

“Of course, you’re my favourite customer.”

She watched him as he subtly eyed her.

“Well I guess I’ll see you then, bye Rafe.” She turned to walk to her car, her breath caught in her chest.

“Wait, wait. I’m having a party tomorrow at my house.”

She slowly turned around to face him, feigning unawareness, “oh…ok.”

“You should come by– if you’re free that is.”

“Yeah that’d be cool. What’s your address?”

Rafe raised his eyebrow as if he didn’t understand the questions, “Tannyhill?”

Sofia shook her head, to say she still didn’t know.

“Shit sorry, I keep forgetting that you’re not from here. Just give me your number and I’ll text it to you.”

And that’s how Sofia managed to be the girl on Rafe Cameron’s arm. It wasn’t hard to like him– he was charming, funny, not to mention handsome. She thought it’d be harder to get into his bed, after all she was a Pogue, a bartender– she was supposed to be invisible to him. But Rafe was surprisingly down. Desperate even. Like he was trying to distract himself from something.

Sofia’s heart sometimes stirred for the boy. But she reminded herself of what she truly wanted– this. The satin bedsheets, the crystal chandeliers, the ocean view.

She didn’t feel bad, or guilty– both her and Rafe’s ‘relationship’ was transactional. They both took things.

For her it was the fancy dinners he’d take her on and hefty tips he’d slide her at the bar and for him it was…company. Sofia realised Rafe Cameron was actually quite lonely.

So she played the part. It wasn’t hard. There was something vulnerable about Rafe that made her care. But she’d always quash it down knowing how messy feelings would be– she wasn’t loosing out on the lux and glitz of the kook life to something as trivial as heartbreak.

Sofia was currently taking a bath in the claw footed tub in the en-suite of Rafe’s bedroom at Tannyhill. Inhaling softly, eyes closed, she breathed in the lavender scent of the water, her hands skimming the iridescent bubbles on the surface.

It was late and after they’d messed around for a bit, Rafe had run her a bath.

Sofia sighed softly to herself thinking this wouldn’t be possible back home with her single shower with the shit water pressure.

A soft knock on the bathroom door interrupted her clouding thoughts.

“Hmn?” She hummed, blinking open her eyes.

“Can I come in?” Rafe asked, on the other side of the door.

“Yeah.”

He entered, Sofia smiling up at home from the bathtub. He’d gotten changed into some grey sweats and a T-shirt that pulled across his arms. Sofia wouldn’t have minded going for another round.

“What’s up?” She smiled, the water reaching her neck.

“Nothing– just wanted to talk to you about something.”

Her heart dropped into her stomach. Was he ending this? This…situationship?

“Hey, what’s wrong?” She simpered, her eyebrows furrowing in concern.

“That day–” he coughed clearing his throat, “that day on the balcony, after you stayed over, you gave me some advice– do you remember?”

Rafe approached Sofia, sitting on the edge of the bathtub, his body turned to face her. Her eyes trailed down to his fingers, the tips of them skimming the bubbly water.

That day on the balcony– that day he was acting…off. He’d been stressed out, terse. It had worried her.

Sofia nodded slowly, noticing how he avoided eye contact with her. “Yeah, what about it?”

“You really helped me that day…more than you know.” He mumbled.

Sofia lifted her hand out the water, locking her fingers with his, “Rafe– is everything ok?” She was seriously beginning to worry now, the feeling of care, that warm sticky emotion, worming its way inside her heart. When she felt like that she’d forget what this was– she’d forget how Rafe saw her as a fuck buddy, and she’d forget how she saw him as a gold mine. Instead she only saw him and how she wanted to help him feel better.

“Everything is fine. I uh just wanted to say thank you for that.”

She gave him a confused, lopsided smile, “you’re welcome?”

“Here I got something for you.” He let go of her hand, pulling out a small black box from his pocket, and giving it to her to open.

Sofia glanced at the box, then back up at him. He had a stupid smirk plastered across his face, the abashed look from before already faded.

“Rafe– you didn’t have to.” She said, internally thrumming with delight. Her fingers slowly opened the gift, revealing a thread of scintillating diamonds resting on black velvet, like stars in the night sky.

“Dios mio,” she breathed. It was beautiful.

“Here let me put it on you.”

“No don’t– I’m in the bath, I don’t want to ruin it.”

Rafe chuckled lowly, “Sof, they’re diamonds– they don’t get ruined.”

She didn’t even know what to respond to that, so she just grinned widely, letting out an excited laugh.

Rafe took out the spool of sparkles, standing up to walk behind her. He knelt down low, bringing the necklace onto her décolleté, Sofia jolting slightly at how cold it felt. She looked down to see the delicate metal rest prettily on her skin, the water lapping up to graze the diamonds.

“It’s so beautiful, thank you Rafe.” She gushed, turning her neck to face him.

“Don’t mention it,” he whispered into her ear, planting a kiss on her temple, peppering more kissed until he reached her lips. Sofia gasped against his mouth, savouring the sensation of the cold diamonds and his hot fingers trailing her neck.

Her broke the kiss, his eyes roving down her face to her chest, “I’ll let you finish your bath.” Rafe stood up, leaving the room.

Sofia felt conflicted. A diamond necklace? For a piece of advice? It felt like an unfair trade. But she quickly got over it when she saw the way they sparkled under the bathroom lights.

This was the life she wanted. And she would bask in it.

“Hurry up alright? I wanna see the necklace on you up close.” Rafe called from the room.

Sofia laughed, “gonna take my time now!” She called back, sinking into the water, closing her eyes once again.

Perfect. This was perfect.

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ ˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ ˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ ˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ ˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

[humbledragon669]

S2E1 - The Arrival Write Up P3 - the Present Day from the introduction of Maggie and Nina up to The Box

Alright, I’ve already written two whole blogs on this episode and I haven’t even gotten through the first 15 minutes of it so let’s jump straight in with Nina’s opening line:

NINA: See anything you fancy?

I mean, if that’s not a blatant display of foreshadowing, I don’t know what else you need. And given Maggie’s rather shy disposition, I have to say I think she handles it pretty well. Goodness knows what must be going through her head. Actually, I think I know exactly what’s going through her head:

I think she pulls it off. Just. What I find interesting about Nina’s response is that she simultaneously manages to flatter Maggie by remembering her order and highlight that she’s completely distanced from her by referring to her as the drink she orders.

NINA: You’re a skinny latte.

I mean, I don’t know about you, but I’d much rather the love of my life call me by my name, rather than by the coffee I order. Maggie doesn’t seem to care though, she’s just delighted that Nina remembers anything about her:

That delight lasts all of a few seconds before Nina manages to give her another label that she’s probably not looking for – that of “a regular”. It’s a little painful to see the joy on Maggie’s face dissolve into disappointment as she realises that the reason her coffee order has been recalled is more to do with the frequency of her attendance in the coffee shop than the object of her desires actually paying her any attention.

Now I don’t know about you, but I had already formed an opinion about Nina by this point in the show, and that opinion is that she’s not very nice. Here’s the line that did it for me:

NINA: You work in the record shop don’t you? Don’t know who actually buys records in this day and age.

I mean, really? The owner of a boutique record shop, one of your customers, someone you barely know, has come to support your own local business, and you repay their loyalty by undermining their career choice? At the very least, I’d call that rude. There are a couple of extenuating circumstances around this that I would like to look at, and they are pretty starkly contrasting – let’s start with the bad vibes first.

I have seen it said before that female characters in the creator’s work are grossly subject to sexist bias. I can fully understand that stance – if we look at the female characters in the original Good Omens novel, we can see that women are characterised as inherently “bad” (the nuns), stupid (Madame Tracy was explicitly described as such), or overly sexualised (the physical appearances of both Anathema and War are regularly described with regards to their attractiveness). If that’s true, we can see those characterisations continuing here – Nina is the “bad” character, Maggie the “stupid” one (not my personal opinion!). This all makes me very uncomfortable.

The good vibes scenario is to do with positive representation of neurodivergence. We know that both characters are based on the real-life personalities of the actors playing them; it’s largely why they both kept their own names. We also know that Maggie Service herself is neurodivergent, which her social awkwardness could potentially be attributed to. What if Nina (the character, I make no claims about Nina Sosanya) is also neurodivergent? That might explain her bluntness in this particular situation – she’s just saying what she’s thinking after all. Given that that the author himself has confirmed that both Crowley and Aziraphale show neurodivergent behaviours, and that it’s fairly common fandom opinion that Nina and Maggie are a mirror for Crowley and Aziraphale, that would strengthen that theory. Not to mention that the show as a whole works to showcase equality for all, whether it be in terms of sexuality, ability, or race/creed.

I think we would all say that we’d rather the latter of these two possibilities is actually what the show is aiming for. There’s just something about the first possibility that nags at me though. I want to believe it’s the second thing (even if that makes me quick to judge), I really do. Perhaps recent events have just made me very cynical. *sigh* Shall we move on to naked John Hamm?

Can we just take a moment to appreciate how tongue-in-cheek accurate the exclamation that both Maggie and Nina choose to use is? Gabriel being both “holy” and, from what we’ve seen so far, an absolute “shit”. Love it. On another quick side note, somebody forgot to make sure that this extra knew how to use a phone convincingly:

What exactly is she doing, smashing away at her phone screen like that? Multiple pictures perhaps, but it seems unlikely.

Continuing on Gabriel’s skyclad promenade, we’re introduced to some no longer inanimate tomatoes. I feel like there has been quite a lot of discussion about that shot, which is not surprising given that the editors have gone out of their way to include it. Maybe the stall was knocked by somebody on their way to try and get a glimpse of the naked man (not unlikely), but we don’t get any suggestion of that. A few of them even roll across the road, causing Gabriel to step over them. Honestly, I don’t have any theories about this single shot, but I do wonder if there might have been a bit more in the original script for the episode. Having completed the script-to-screen comparisons, it was evident that the author wrote (often unnecessarily) extensive stage directions; perhaps there was something in those that would have explained this singular shot. If anybody has any thoughts, let me know – I do like the idea of Gabriel “upsetting the apple cart” but I don’t know why they wouldn’t just have used apples in that was the case, particularly as there are already some right there on the stall:

Alright, next point of note. Gabriel goes directly to the bookshop door. Do not pass Go, do not collect £200. He walks straight past the door in the pub that we later come to see is the door to the elevator to Heaven. Something to bear in mind here is that we don’t actually know where Gabriel has come from to get here and he already has quite the following as he walks down Whickber Street. How long has he been walking through the streets of London in his state of undress?! Considering how little information he has retained from his tenure as supreme archangel, he must have some sort of strange homing beacon to know to go to Aziraphale’s bookshop.

Next question – why does Aziraphale treat his record so roughly when he’s interrupted by Gabriel knocking on the door? Considering the fact that he explicitly says that this type of record can be difficult to obtain, and the pleasure he clearly gets from listening to them, why risk scratching the one playing with his actions? As a matter of fact, have we ever had any indication that Shostakovich is one of Aziraphale’s favoured composers? He wasn’t on the list that Crowley reeled off in St. James’s Park all those years ago when the Antichrist was born, not even on the slightly extended version in the book. Urgh, there’s that ridiculous thought again – that’s not Aziraphale. I seriously can’t see how that thought could play out long term, but this is certainly uncharacteristic behaviour from our angel.

Alright, that’s quite enough of the questions for now. Let’s have a look at this delicious sequence of micro-expressions from Aziraphale when he opens the door:

Aside from the fact that the first thing he pays any attention to (despite the fact that Gabriel is standing not more than a foot away from him) is the crowd of people amassed outside the book shop (something I think is probably influenced by what I take to be a reflexive look to the Bentley’s usual parking space), what I find very interesting about this is that he doesn’t register any shock until he sees Gabriel’s face. Let me repeat that for a second and let it sink in – he’s not shocked that there’s a naked man on his doorstep, he’s shocked that it’s Gabriel. And if that wasn’t enough food for thought, tell me these are the hands of a being who isn’t hardwired to return an embrace:

Those fingers are curled people. Reflexively grabbing. He’s also raised them to return the embrace (when you look at the previous shot, they’re relaxed by his sides). Probably good for him that his common-sense kicks in and stops him from completing the action he has started instinctively – maybe that’s something to do with whatever it is that catches his attention here:

I want to talk a little bit about Gabriel’s demeanour in this sequence. It’s clear that he has no idea that nakedness is a thing that isn’t really done in public. In fact, he appears not to even understand the concept of being naked at all:

GABRIEL: Who told you I was naked?

A little while ago, I’m pretty sure I read a post about this particular quote being a biblical reference to Adam not knowing what nudity is, or its connotations, until after he eats the apple. If anybody knows where this is, I’d be grateful for the link, as I couldn’t find it. Google has informed me that the Christian lore is that Adam felt no shame about his nudity until after eating the forbidden fruit. What I find really interesting about the parallel with this scene is that whilst Gabriel feels no shame for being naked, Aziraphale is fully aware of the connotations with nakedness in human society. More importantly, he’s clearly experiencing an emotional response to the situation. I take this to be a clear indicator that he has truly “left the garden” and embraced humanity; my thinking is that the knowledge of nakedness might prompt the angel to inform Gabriel of the nakedness but wouldn’t invoke an emotional reaction. Which, to be fair, he might not be feeling so strongly if he would just stop LOOKING AT IT.

So I lied, I do have one more question about this scene, and it’s to do with Aziraphale’s response to Gabriel asking if he can come in.

That’s a pretty strong, even physical, response. What I’d quite like to know is how much of it is because Gabriel is naked, and how much is that Gabriel is… well, Gabriel. Personally, the latter of those two options doesn’t sit right; Aziraphale doesn’t really know what’s going on with Gabriel at this point, but he does know that he doesn’t appear to have any memories that would make him a threat. And let’s not forget to mention the change in his eye colour – they were purple in the first season, now they’re just John Hamm-coloured (which makes me wonder what exactly it is that causes the eye colouration in the first place). It’s clear that the man standing on the bookshop doorstep is not the supreme archangel that Aziraphale had come to fear in season 1, and Gabriel has actually been more than pleasant (nudity aside) up to this point. So that would suggest the violence of that reaction is largely to do with the nakedness, which brings us back to the whole “Aziraphale has left the Garden” point I made earlier. Not to mention that having a naked man in his shop, regardless of the identity of said man, is not going to go down well with his husband Crowley. But I’m getting ahead of myself.

Quick point to reiterate what I was saying about Nina earlier on.

I mean, this just feels downright rude to me. It’s not the deliberate attempt to keep Maggie at a distance by insisting on referring to her as her coffee order, it’s the dismissive “I know who you are” (which is delivered immediately after the two of them seem to share a joke between them). Honestly, I feel like Maggie could do better for herself at this point. Anywho.

Moving swiftly through the tiny scene with Michael’s celestial telephone conversation, the next thing we see is Aziraphale being a lovely host to his new naked manfriend.

Ah lovely. Wait, what? Doesn’t Gabriel abhor the idea of consuming human food and drink?

 Yes, yes he does. So what initially appears to be a charming gesture of welcome from the principality is actually a beautifully subtle (and actually quite malicious, given Gabriel’s acute vulnerability here, what with the memory lost) “fuck you”. And all delivered with some helpful information about what it’s called and what to do with it. Just another little reminder that Aziraphale is very capable of indulging in some deliciously demonic characteristics when it suits him.

I’m really interested in how this whole memory loss thing actually functions – it’s clear that Gabriel has no idea who he is (he explicitly says so) and has no memory that drinking human drinks is something he doesn’t partake of. That said, he does seem to understand that “drinking” is something he’s never done before, and that hot chocolate is something he hasn’t experienced (see the cautious sniff he gives the mug). To make things all the more confusing, he also seems to understand certain social cues – he knows that Aziraphale recognised him when he arrived at the bookshop. That latter point is somewhat ironic, given his previous lack of knowledge around human social conventions.

And let’s not forget that change in eye colour (which reverts in later scenes where he actually manages to access some of his old memories, despite him not “opening” the fly). What exactly is it that has been extracted from his being and stored in the fly? Because it sure doesn’t feel like “his memories” really covers all the bases. I don’t think it’s that important, it’s just something I wonder about.

Alright it’s time to talk about a moment that has already been discussed A LOT:

GABRIEL: You know what it’s like when you don’t know anything at all and that you’re totally certain that everything would be better if you were just near one particular person?

Other than adding to my wondering about what exactly Gabriel has had extracted into the fly (seeing as this is how he is describing his instincts to go to Aziraphale), his side of the conversation here is fairly obvious. What we’re all more interested in is Aziraphale’s reactions to the question, more specifically his facial expressions because the King of Micro-Expressions is about to put his superpower to work. But first a warm-up. Have a look at this look of disbelief (not to mention the start of a tiny headshake “no”) at the first half of the question:

My take on the subtext going on here is something along the lines of “well, no, I really don’t know what that’s like. I’m far too intelligent and clever for that to be the case. What a ludicrous suggestion”. And I have come to that conclusion because that is exactly what I would be thinking in that situation :D Let’s move on to the second part of Gabriel’s question and move into micro-expression time!

What’s that Aziraphale? You know exactly what he’s talking about now? Your tiny head nod “yes” has somewhat given the game away on that one. I’ve slowed that GIF down massively so you can see it, and if you’re still in any doubt, just watch the lock of hair in the middle of his forehead when that scene plays at full speed – it’s undeniable. And if you thought that micro-expression was tiny, let’s have a look at the next one.

That GIF is slowed down to a tenth of the original speed. Which means the original expression flies across his face for less than a third of a second. I don’t have the words to express how impressed I am at this. That third of a second tells us that not only does Aziraphale know exactly how this feels, but that it’s a happy place for him to be. That tiny smile, combined with the accompanying script, tells us more about what he feels for Crowley than an entire season could.

This extreme reaction has me interested. I think the reason behind it could be one of two things; the first possibility is that Aziraphale thinks he’s being tricked into leaking some pretty revealing information. Feasible, but given that Gabriel’s memory is well and truly absent, this seems unlikely. My second thought is that he’s concerned that Gabriel feeling that way towards him indicates some sort of arrangement that he does not want to commit to. This feels truer to me, not least because he goes out of his way to distance himself from the subject matter, in both verbal and physical ways. There’s a feeling that he wants to vehemently discourage any exploration of what Gabriel’s feelings towards him could be, and what the consequences are. And, to be fair to him, he only has his own feelings to base that assumption off of; after all, if Gabriel feels about him the way that he feels about Crowley this mystery person that makes everything alright, there are certain human conventions about where Gabriel might be expecting things to be headed. And this is some classic Aziraphale flustering, isn’t it? Get into an uncomfortable situation, it’s time to make exaggerated physical gestures (not to mention unnecessary mouth movements) to try and dispel the tension. Those little sub-conscious giveaways will become very important later. But I’m getting ahead of myself again.

In this particular situation, he undoes his flustering hard work with a dreadful little nervous smile.

Honestly, this angel is totally incapable of not wearing his heart on his sleeve. It’s a good job that Gabriel is both clueless and harmless at this point. Let’s have a look at one last micro-expression before I get out of the weeds.

What… what is this? Because the thing I feel like it looks like the most is disappointment – the shallow intake of breath, downcast eyes, THE GULP… All topped off with the expression at the end, which we’ve seen before:

One major difference – the last time we saw it, he had reason to be disappointed, having mistakenly believed that angelCrowley was calling him gorgeous. I can’t understand what Aziraphale would have to be disappointed about here, unless it’s an ego thing. Perhaps I’m misinterpreting the whole reaction to being told the only reason Gabriel said what he did was actually more to do with the bookshop than the person in it is because he feels like he’s just dodged a bullet (pun totally intended), but that just doesn’t sit well with me.

I think I’ve droned on about this tiny section of this episode for far too long already (I knew this season was going to be something of a mission!), but I do want to touch briefly on the way that Gabriel reacts to drinking his cocoa. Aside from this being a really charming representation of the experience of drinking a hot, sweet cup of hot chocolate, what Gabriel’s reaction re-enforces the idea that these are sensations he’s never experienced before, which circles me back around to that whole logistics of memory wiping thing again. Don’t get me wrong, I love this version of Gabriel – there’s a childlike innocence about him that’s probably closer to humanity’s version of innocence than Heaven’s version, and the resulting comedy is gold – I just struggle with the specifics of this particular story-telling device. That said, we do get to see (and mostly hear) Aziraphale go into complete panic mode just because Gabriel has never experienced hot liquid arriving in his tummy before.

A Clue for the eventual end of season 3 or terrible ironic foreshadowing for the end of season 2? Probably 50/50 to be honest. Or at least I really hope so.

Oh, one last thing, and this one I didn’t catch until this write up. When we see the box on the doorstep of the bookshop (how adorable is it that Gabriel says his arms were getting tired from carrying an empty box by the way?), the fly is not in the box. You read that right, the FLY IS NOT IN THE BOX. This one was difficult to catch – I tried to GIF it, but it wasn’t clear enough, so a couple of images will have to do, and you can go back and watch it with the tip of your nose an inch from the screen like I did.

It is SUPER hard to see. It might look like the change in position is to do with the change in camera angle, but not so – the fly actually walks across the top of the box, and right at the end, disappears into the tiny gap were the flaps of the box meet. So to recap, not in the box whilst it sits on the doorstep (was it ever in there?) but definitely in the box when Aziraphale picks it up and takes it in inside. Again, this is one of those things that I don’t necessarily think is important, but it is a really lovely little Easter egg for the eagle eyed.

I definitely have rambled on too long for this section (how can this be part 3, and I’m not even half way through the episode yet?!), so I’m wrapping it up there. As always, questions, comments, discussions, always welcome. See you for the next one – I really will try not to be so ridiculously microscopic.

[robertsbarbie]

i never feel unsafe when i go on walks with tucker because i know at the end of the day he will protect me (even though he’s a big softie) but today yall i was real worried!

[radgeorgie]

had an amazing interview yesterday.... was told I'd know by Monday.... but it's alleged they DRUG TEST and I just bought 6 packs of weed edibles 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

[ronanlynchbf]

saying "this is unbearable" abt things yet still continuing to bear them. give it up for the human spirit everyone 🙏👆👍💪💪💪❗❗❗

[hotdadlicense]

every time i talk to customers i realise i'm rly not a nice person

[sluttyten]

I still have 5 hours left in my shift 😭😭😭

[orcelito]

Every Time I Try To Be A Nice Person I Am Bitten In The Ass For It

Featuring: It's Only Three And A Half Hours How Bad Can It Be To Cover?

🙃

[fingertipsmp3]

Looking at the rota app thinking well. Tomorrow is going to be fascinating

[laughyoudrecognize]

Someone at work today got fired for being rude and I legit didn’t even see her be rude so I’m nervous. Apparently we have to kiss the asses of every customer even the ones that are pieces of shit or we lose our income and livelihood ✌️ cool cool cool cool cool

[the-plantman-is-queer]

If you cut me open I bleed adrenaline instead of blood now

[nerdie-faerie]

Every shift I've experienced since deciding I'm handing in my notice has been one of the worst to date, only validating my decision to quit