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#lets me not worry so much about lines and just go ham on colors
adriartts · 1 year
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Hello again I am STILL thinking about the most episode ever.  Fuck him up, Data!!
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bokettochild · 3 years
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Legendary Cousins
So... I promised @peachy-scars that I would write them this a while back when they posted this, and after consulting y’all (I think it was @attllhak and several anons who helped the most) I finally had enough to just go ham and write this beautiful piece of garbage.
Hope you like it, Peaches!
 They had landed in a new Hyrule, and Legend’s instant reaction was to blink and stare about with a conflicted expression on his face while the others had stared in confusion at their surroundings.
 “Why’s this look so weird?” Wind demanded eloquently as he pulled himself out from beneath a giggling Hyrule, who always laughed nervously when they landed in a new Hyrule and seemed particularly giddy today.
 “Wind, manners.” Time chided softly, pulling himself back up and working with Wild to pull his protégé back up, Twilight looking around dizzily as he leaned on his mentor for balance. “You don’t know whose home this might be.”
 “I do.” Legend hissed softly, hooded eyes staring towards a nearby path while a slight smile touched his lips. “New Hero everyone.”
 Glances were exchanged before shooting to the vet in confusion. “How...”
 “You knew there were more heroes?” Warriors sputtered, staring at the vet in surprise while the hero in question pulled himself to his feet and shook out his limbs, knuckles crackling painfully and making the others wince.
 “Time travel mixed with world hopping and the occasional visit to other countries.” Legend answered in a low voice, stretching towards the sky and standing on the tips of his toes (eyes turned away as the vet’s already short tunic rode higher). “I’ve met plenty of other heroes. Five- maybe six? Not sure.” He shrugged, arms falling back to his sides as he moved further into the forest. “Come along, if we want to check up on things we’d best get headed to the castle. Monsters out here are brutal, even if they are bloody crazy.”
 Glances were exchanged again, Wind’s wide eyes growing wider as he mouthed the words ‘six other heroes’ to his brothers.
 “Who met Legend before all this went down?” The captain hissed, pulling Four up onto his back. “Because it sure as heck wasn’t me.”
 No one answered, and they didn’t have much of a chance to as the Vet’s voice broke through the forest, a harsh hiss for them to hurry. “You stay there all day the ‘blins’ll eat you!”
 Eight heroes pulled themselves along, following after as Legend trailed silently through the forest.
 Each stumble or loud noise earned a glare from the vet, and if it didn’t come from them, it made him freeze, steps stopping immediately as his ears would prick towards the sound. More than once, Twilight or Sky had to muffle a laugh in their respective wraps as the image of a bunny starting to alert entered their minds.
 Maybe it’s the laughter. Maybe it’s just their dang Hero of Courage luck, or maybe it’s just because Hylia thinks it funny, but even with all Legend’s glaring and stopping and sneaking, they are attacked just as they reach the edge of the forest.
 The monsters are... horrifying. Nothing most of them have ever even seen, and the only thing they can do as they fight is to take the vet’s advice. “Aim for the eyes! And if you can’t reach them, the ankles!” The vet shouts as he kicks into a spin attack. The other heroes follow suit, ripping into the beasts as Wild pulls back from the group, setting off volleys of arrows as best he can do by himself, and successfully blinding a few of the monsters.
 They’re thick into the song of battle when an unknown voice rings out. “Good golly! Hang on there, sirs!”
 It’s hard to see past the swarms of monsters (seriously, they’ve never been this thick!) but blonde hair and a swinging sword assure them that whomever it is, is likely the hero Legend had told them about. Enemies fall as bombs explode and various weapons pierce through hearts and heads.  
 Once the dust has cleared, they take careful stock of their injuries and weapons (Wild’s shattered another sword and Four is sighing wearily) before turning their attention to their unexpected help.
 Legend and the other hero stand over a dead bokoblin, shaking hands in a friendly manner while the one chatters to the other, the vet smiling thinly but genuinely as he listens.
 “Vet, who’s this?”
 “Ah! You have friends!” A bright smile is turned their way as the swordsman releases Legend’s hand. “Greetings! I’m Link.”
 “The Hero of Koridai.” Legend adds on, rolling his eyes.
 “Aw, come on, Other-Link!” The newcomer grins, jabbing Legend playfully in the side and effectively stealing his breath. “I’m just Link is all.”
 “That’s all of their names too.” Legend wheezes, glaring up at the other.
 The chain of heroes takes in the newcomer, who, much to the captain’s dismay, seems to share Legend’s opinion of pants, as well as a preference for pegasus boots. Bright brown eyes stare back at them, a dopey grin on the hero’s face, but beneath the welcoming grin there's a glint of something sharp and dangerous that has Warriors shuffling back warily.
 “What adventure is this? Finish meeting up with your lovely cousins?”
 The vet huffs a breath, clearing his throat as he straightens up again. “Thereabouts, this’ll be adventure seven.”
 “Ooh, seven. Ouch.” Bright brown turn towards the vet with a sympathetic wince. “Sorry about that.”
 “You had your own quests.” Legend dismisses, as if his words don’t confuse the others. “How’s Zelly by the way? We haven’t heard from her.”
 Link, for lack of a better current name, smiles cheerily. “Half a minute yet there.” Turning to the others he offers yet another impossibly wide smile, it’s very nearly uncomfortable to look at, and Legend is the only one who seems unaffected by doing so (he has seen far, far worse from this world). “We should skedaddle over to the castle.” A halting motion is made towards the castle just in front of them as the newest hero laughs nervously. “As long as you’re there, you won’t be attacked.”
 And for lack of anything else to do, they agree, following after as Legend and the new Link chat in the front, Legend with an amount of patience that has never in their memory presented itself and the new Link with an almost irritating amount of pep and cheer. “Zelly’s doing great, and we’re hoping to visit all of you soon too! Or, we were, but the monsters started getting real bad an’ Zel figured we’d better stay behind to make sure they didn’t cause too much trouble.”
 “How bad?” The vet’s brows quirk with concern and Warriors nearly stumbles at the gentle expression on Legend’s face.
 “Just a bit stronger.” The new Link shrugs, but smiles brightly up at Legend. “It’s not as bad as last time though, so don’t worry your pink head about it.”
 And Legend... Legend actually laughs, reaching up to tug the cap of the other Link as they cross into the shadow of Hyrule Castle’s walls.  
 “What the-” Warriors is cut off with a blaring ‘Beep!’ from Wind, who looks up at him cheekily when the captain looks down at him.
 “Censoring.” Wind chirrups.
 ”Soooo...” Twilight drawls, a smile pulling at his features as he looks between the duo, the heroes all relaxing as they enter the castle gates. “How do you two know each other?”
 “We’re cousins!” Link chirrups happily, shooting another smile over his shoulder that’s just a bit too wide and a bit too sharp.”
 “Third Cousins or...” Legend waves his hand vaguely. “Somethin’. Their father is my second cousin or some sort of thing, it’s unclear honestly, all we know is that Zelda is my cousin somewhere down the line and with those two dating-” The other Link flushes at the statement, face as dopey as Sky’s gets. “He’s bound to be thrown in there somewhere too.”
 “Wait!” Four looks from one of the cousins to the other (there is a bit of resemblance, uncannily enough, even though Link smiles far more than Legend). “Whose time is this?”
 The two share a look, nodding firmly before turning to the others and speaking together. “Both.”
 “Two heroes? In one time?” Time cocks a brow.
 Legend throws his hands up. “You can talk to Hylia about that!”
 “Oh!” Link’s grin widens further as he bounces in place. “And how is Aunt Hylia? Golly, I haven’t seen her in ages!”
 “Aunt Hylia...” Sky blinks slowly.
 The vet huffs. “Fine. She’s letting Fable back into the fighting ring this weekend, figured since the Master didn’t mess things up that it’d be okay to let Hylians head back out there. Hide the evidence if they send me an invite, yeah?”
 “Will do!” Comes the chipper reply, but the other heroes aren’t done.
 “Wait, wait, wait, how many heroes are there in this time?” Warriors looks from one to the other with panic building in his gaze.
 Link frowns in what seems an over-the-top expression of thought. “Do the colors count?”  
 Four chokes.
 Legend flushes. “They count.” His voice is strained and nearly wheezing as swirling hazel stares a hole in his head.
 “And then there’s the Hytopian wannabe, who might very well actually be one.” Link continues. “And the two of us. Does Great-Grandfather Raven count?”
 “Not in this time, he just traveled here briefly when Nayru became corrupted.” Legend drawls with a head tilt, as if talking about meeting your ancestors and de-corrupting a goddess was normal for this world, and with the way Link just nods along, they are all beginning to worry that that is the norm here.
 “Right, so five heroes.” Link nods slowly. “And then we have great-gramps Raven, and whoever- wait.” The new Link’s eyes fly wide open as he motions to Time. “Isn’t that Great-Gramps?”
 Legend and Time both splutter as the vet hurries to correct the other hero. “No! He’s...” Legend looks from the startled Time to his cousin. “That’s the Hero of Time.” He whispers gravely, and Link’s eyes blow even wider as he looks to Time, who winces. They’ve all heard of what happened to the Hero of Time in this world.
 “Oh!” Link breathes, before another smile stretches over his face. “Great-Great-Gramma Lon’s husband!”
 Legend just facepalms while Time stands with his mouth flapping and fingers twitching, the old man now trying to calculate exactly how many children are now officially his while Warriors proceeded to have all the color drain out of his face.
 “How are there two heroes of Courage here!!!!” The Captain hisses, and Link and Legend both look at each other. “And for the love of Hylia! Stop looking at each other all the time, what, can you read minds?!?!”
 And both stare at the captain with the deadest of dead expressions, which actually makes Link all the more unnerving and Legend all the more intimidating. “Yes.”
 It takes a while, but once they meet Zelda, she takes the time to explain.
 “Our fathers are cousins.” She says, smiling at the heroes as they all sit and have lunch in the courtyard, motioning to Legend as she speaks. The vet is currently pulling his hat back off of his face after having it tugged down in vengeance for earlier. “Once both had married into the royal family, there was contention in the kingdom so Auntie Hylia sent Mapa and Papa out here to take care of this part of the kingdom while she handled things in central Hyrule.
 “Most folks call Papa a king because they forget that it’s one country, but what with the high borders and all, it may as well be its own country.” She shrugs as she pops another piece of food in her mouth. “And there aren’t two Courage Wielders, technically. I mean, there are, but Link isn’t one of them.” She smiles in a sly sort of way, too wide, too knowing, too creepy for many of the heroes to be comfortable. “He just happens to care a lot and does what he can.”
 “Oh yeah,” Hyrule nods knowingly, chewing slowly on his own meal. “My brother is like that too.”
 The others, even Legend and Link, turn to Hyrule in shock. “Your what???”
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mgsapphire · 3 years
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My K-drama recommendation master list Part 2
You can find part 1 here
Look, you gave us relatively new recommendations, what about ones older than 10 years? I'll give you my top 5
Princess Hours (2006) Is a modern Cinderella story. It's 24 episodes long. Available on Viki.
Personal Taste (2010) Honestly, problematic plot if you put your mind into it, but entertaining nonetheless. It's 16 episodes long, each one lasting a little over an hour, available on Viki.
Cinderella's Sister (2010) You hate every character, but there's still something that makes you watch it. Available on Viki.
Thank You (2007) was ahead of its time, it's about a single mother with a daughter who has an HIV+ diagnosis. 16 episodes long, each one lasting a little over an hour. Available on Viki.
Stairway to Heaven (2003) for a good melodrama.
What about romantic fantasies involving fantastic beings?
Guardian: The lonely and Great God(2016) A classic of the genre. It tells the story of a God who was once a man, and is being punished by immortality, unless he meets his bride, who just so happens to be a high schooler centuries later. Available on viki. 16 episodes long with 3 specials, all lasting about 75 minutes.
Hotel Del Luna (2019) it would be unfair to talk about Goblin, without talking about this other masterpiece about a being cursed into immortality and granted special availabilities along with it, but a curse is still a curse, and she must run a hotel meant for ghosts, where after centuries of being, meets a young man who is alive. Availability on Viki, 16 episodes long and each one lastz about 75 minutes.
Tale of the Nine Tailed (2020) You get to see Lee Dong Wook as another mystical being, and Kim Bum is his half brother. 16 episodes long and one special, each one lasting about 65 minutes. Available on Viki.
My roommate is a Gumiho (2021) what's up with gumihos? It's still airing. The title is self explanatory. Available on Viki and Qiyi.
Angel's last mission: Love (2019) is a cute and sad story about an angel who is about to ascend and a ballerina who has a cynical view of the world. Available on Viki. Each episode averages 30 minutes, with 32 episodes.
Doom at your service (2021) About to finish airing. It tells the story of a dying woman who wishes doom upon the world, and the doom who answers her plea. Available on viki, 16 episodes long, each one lasting about an hour.
The Scholar Who walks the night (2015) another Lee Joon Gi entry, but I swear all of his works are great, it's a period drama that tells the story of a scholar who is a vampire and the young bookseller he meets. It's 20 episodes long, each one lasting about an hour. Available on viki. Also, if you've liked Lee Soo Hyuk in Doom at Your Service, I advise you check this one out.
Tale of Arang (2012) two Lee Joon Gi entries in a row? Girl, you have to stop. Anyways, this one is another period piece of a magistrate who can see ghosts and the ghost of a young woman who doesn't remember her life, nor the cause of her death. Available on viki, it's 20 episodes long, each one lasting a little over an hour.
Look, those are fine or whatever, but I started as a K-pop fan, where can I see some idol dramas? Don't worry, I came prepared
Full House (2004) with Rain as the main character is the og idol drama in my opinion. Available on Viki. 16 episodes long, each one lasting about 73 minutes.
Imitation (2021) is currently airing, and it's literally an idol drama about idols. You can find a looot of idols too: Jeong Yun Ho and Park Seong Hwa from Ateez, Chani and Hwi Young from SF9, Park Ji Yeon from T-ara, Lim Na Young from I.O.I and Pristin, and although Jeong Ji So is not an idol, she is the main lead, and I absolutely love her, she's also in Doom at your service. Available on Viki.
Miss Panda and Mr. Hedgehog (2012) features Donghae from Super Junior, and if I'm going to recommend a Super Junior drama, I would rather recommend one featuring him over Siwon.
At a Distance the Spring is Green (2021) is currently airing too, and only has four released episodes, but I've liked it so far. Featuring Park Ji Hoon, and Kwon Dun Bin. Also, I have a lot of opinions about this show. Available on Viki.
I was going to put an IU drama but, all her dramas are good, so go and watch them all, the woman has range.
Dream High (2011) is the king of idol dramas, in my opinion. It talksa about a high school for people who want to be idols. Another one with a long line up of idols, so let me start: Suzy, IU, Taecyeon, Nichkhun and Wooyoung from 2PM, Ham Eun Jung from T-ara. Leeteuk (SuJu and Chansung (2PM) make cameos. Similarly to Imitation, Kim Soo Hyun is not an idol, but he's the main lead. It's 16 episodes long, each one lasting about 65 minutes. Available on Viki.
Wow, quite a few, but they all seem rather popular, do you have some underrated gems? I'm going to have to go down memory lane, but I do
The Queen's Classroom (2013) This one feels like a fever dream, because I'm aware it exists, I watched it back when it first aired, but I can't find it anywhere now. It's based on a Japanese drama of the same name. It's about a strict but warm hearted teacher and her students' lives and struggles. 16 episodes long. DM me if you find anywhere to watch it.
1% of Something (2016) is a really cute drama, the chemistry is off the charts, and if you're looking for skinship, this one is the one for you, underrated arranged marriage kdrama, I'm telling you. It's 16 episodes long, averaging 45 minutes, and it's on Viki.
I'm not a Robot (2017) has a really cute plot, not underrated per se, but not hyped enough. It's 32 episodes long, each one averaging 30 minutes. Available on Viki.
Do you like Brahms? (2020) is a music themed kdrama, really cute and wholesome. If you like 2setviolin and watched their critique on their YouTube channel, let me tell you, the cast actually knows how to play violin and stuff, and there's an actual child prodigy in there. It got so much hate bc of that one yt video. It's 16 episode long, each one lasting about an hour. Available on Viki.
Solomon's Perjury (2016) a good reflection on youth and the pressure society has. 12 episodes long, lasting about 63 minutes each. Available on Viki.
The Greatest Love (2011) is a super entertaining TV show, and just supper funny and cute. 16 episodes long, each one lasting around 65 minutes. Available on Viki.
Two Cops (2017) if you like Kim Seon Ho, I think this was his TV acting debut. It's a hilarious action comedy TV show. 32 episodes long, lasting around 30 minutes. Available on viki.
Do you have any recommendations where time traveling or time is central to the story?
Alice (2020) look, I can't give you a full explanation because it's too mind bending. Let's leave it at detective meets his mother. Available on Viki.
Signal (2016) The premise is similar to that of the movie Frequency (2000) in which there's communication between the past and the present via technology. The plot is based on the real Hwaseong serial murders. Really interesting. Available on Netflix. If you like the premise of communicating with the past via technology Call (2020) is a Korean thriller movie available on Netflix.
Chicago Typewriter (2017) this one is about reincarnation but we get to see both timelines. Available on Netflix.
Tomorrow with you (2017) Time-traveling but make it ✨depressing ✨. The story of a man who time travels, and how that ability messes with his marriage. Available on Netflix.
What about historical dramas? I don't really watch those, but here are some I liked
The Moon Embracing the Sun (2012) is one of the few I've finished. It's really good, it follows the love story of a king. Available on viki. 20 episodes long, each one lasting about an hour.
Gunman in Joseon (2014) Am I recommending you this one because of Lee Joon Gi? Maybe. It has 22 episodes, each one lasting about an hour. Available on Viki.
The Crowned Clown (2019) a story of the Prince and the Pauper if I must give you a description that is relatable, but if you know the book titled Skogland, it's closer to that. It's 16 episodes long, each one lasting about 80 minutes. Available on Viki.
I'm a little ashamed to say this, but do you have any BL? I do, I do
To My Star (2021) is a story about an actor and a chef, and how they learn to cohabit after the actor is forced into hiding. You can watch either the movie version or the drama version, both available on viki.
Color Rush (2020) is a modern romance fantasy about people called Monos who can't see any color unless they meet their Probes, however this may turn dangerous as the Monos may experience obsessive behavior, so what happens when a young high schooler meets his probe?. You can either watch it on its drama or movie version. Both available on viki. By the way, if you're a long time deobi and was wandering what happened to Hwall, he's one of the main leads.
You Make Me Dance (2021) follows the story of a university dancer who is in debt and his debt collector. Available on viki in both versions. The movie is 107 minutes long.
Just Friends (2009) is a short film, but ahead of its time, if you can't tell by the year it was released on. It's a cute story about a man who visits his boyfriend in the military. I found it in dramacool.
That's all from me, if you have any specific genre or them you felt I didn't add in, do feel free to tell me.
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wolf-and-bard · 3 years
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The Geraskier Soccer Parents AU of my dreams (in an early morning strike of weird-brain):
-Geralt knows he isn't the best dad ever. He tries so goddamn hard, but his job is demanding and consumes so much time and even with Ciri being seven already, he still has essentially no clue what he's doing. He sometimes falls into bed, half-dead, and she is the one to give him a good-night kiss. He sometimes forgets she prefers cheese and puts ham on her sandwiches. He is sometimes too happy to have her sleep over at her friends rather than invite them to their house. He doesn't read her all the children's classics, doesn't go trick-or-treating with her, doesn't even pretend Santa Claus is a thing. He isn't the best dad ever. He tries.
-There is one thing he never, ever fails to do and that is take Ciri to soccer practice. Ciri picks up and drops hobbies, interests, even tastes by the week, still unsure what she wants to pursue, but soccer isn't only her favourite pastime, it's theirs. Practice is twice a week and they have a ritual for it. Geralt picks her up from school and drives her there, she tells him about what the dumb boys in her class said, how her art project is going etc. Geralt is there throughout practice, tucked in between Foltest - a guy who is constantly worried for his daughter Adda to get hurt and also very much anxious for her to do well - and Tissaia - a woman who has not one, but three girls in Ciri's age group and several more in others, and knits like a magician - and watches. He takes notes, silently cheers for Ciri.
-After their games and while Ciri changes, Geralt chats with her coach Vesemir - who used to be Geralt's coach, but now prefers to train the girls' teams - about the progress of the team, upcoming tournaments etc. Sometimes when Vesemir is indisposed, Geralt even leads the practice. When Ciri is all done, Tissaia usually has another hat or mitten finished and Geralt and her drive with their girls to whatever food place the girls are in the mood for. They have an early dinner in which Tissaia lectures the girls on their form and in which Ciri is sometimes allowed to sit on Geralt's lap - but only if Fringilla or Yen don't tease hear about it - but in which she definitely gets to steal his milkshake (Geralt hates milkshakes). Geralt only praises her when they're back in the car and Ciri tells him he's too much of a softie with her and should be more like Tissaia. Should maybe marry Tissaia. They both laugh because that is never going to happen.
-Life is good that way. It's not perfect, it's not without bumps, certainly not without tears and scrapes, but whatever the job, whatever injury Geralt carries with him, however long he has to drive, he never, never ever misses soccer practice.
-The season's just kicked off in the year of Ciri's eighth birthday when Geralt and her arrive early on the field to find the stands empty save for a girl in the most ridiculously colorful excercise clothes and blond hair that is braided intricately around her head. With her is a man, maybe five years Geralt's junior. Ciri bolts towards them with a bright grin and Geralt is hesitant to follow. He knows neither the girl nor the man, but from what he can gather she wants to join the team which is just what they need as they're one girl short this season. "Hi, I'm Ciri, I adore your braids." Geralt holds back on the eye-roll. It's nice Ciri can make friends this easily, but his house already is a shrine for role-playing and board games, dolls and random DVDs and another friend means more things Ciri will want to try out. "Thank you," the girl replies and tilts her head to better show them off. "My uncle Jaskier braided them for me, I'm sure he can do yours too." Both girls look up expectantly at the man and Geralt only really notices him then. He is averagely built with bright blue eyes and an even brighter smile. His floral print shirt has three open buttons and his pants barely reach his ankles. He has the look of a flippant music teacher or a hipster coffeeshop owner. His eyes meets Geralt's and, wait, did he just wink? "I'd love to, dear," he says in a smooth voice that absolutely does not go straight to Geralt's guts. Geralt turns on the spot and decides to pressure check the balls, but he can hear the others giggling as Jaskier braids Ciri's hair. "I'm Priscilla by the way. What's up with your dad?" - "Oh, don't mind him, he's bad with meeting new people." - "Very intense." That's Jaskier. Oh, Geralt will show him intense.
-Ciri invites them to their after-practice dinner. Geralt wants to begrudge her that, but she and Priscilla have latched onto each other in record speed and Jaskier actually fights Tissaia on some of her more strict stances and he braids Yen's and Sabrina's hair too, only Fringilla doesn't want him to touch hers which he respects. Geralt and Tissaia glance at each other. Come to a silent agreement. They may not befriend Jaskier, but he's sunny and so good with the girls and they can use someone like him among their ranks, someone who doesn't have Calanthe's tendency for swear words or Crach's tendency to break out beer in the middle of practice or even Nenneke's tendency to relate everything to the workings of god.
-Jaskier is as faithful as Geralt, perhaps the only one who shows up every time without fail. Shani's parents only drop her off and Crach switches between  Cerys' and Hjalmar's practices and Tissaia sometimes texts Geralt to pick up her girls. Jaskier is there, every time, earlier than any of the others. He chats with Vesemir about his day-to-day, brings home-baked cookies for everyone, he cheers and whoops and tries very hard to understand soccer even though it's evident he doesn't. Geralt never wonders why it's him and not Priscilla's parents that come, it's none of his business. He begins to tolerate Jaskier, but he knows that is where he has to draw the line. He has his hands full with Ciri and his job and his brothers too. He can't afford friendships that extend beyond the field.
-Jaskier doesn't let him off though. He always takes the spot next to Geralt (technically an improvement over Foltest's sweaty visage) and prattles on and on, at least until the game begins. When it does, Jaskier divides his attention between the girls and the stack of paper on his lap which he annotates during practice. It's often either sheet music or the illegible scrawl of pre-teens or wonkily drawn instruments. Jaskier already told him, but from that too it is obvious that Geralt's hunch was right, he is a music teacher. Geralt finds his eyes darting to Jaskier's long fingers, nimble and calloused from the various string instruments he plays. Finds himself glancing at where Jaskier's tongue peeks out in concentration. He listens to the man's ramblings and hums his replies and comes to dislike the days when Vesemir isn't there and he has to focus all his attention on giving the girls a good practice. Not that he doesn't want to, it's just that having Jaskier at his back unnerves him.
-(Jaskier for his part doesn’t care at all about soccer, but he cares about Priscilla so he convinced her parents to let him take her; after that, she said it would be fine if he dropped her off and picked her up again, but Jaskier pretends he is super invested in the sport and the team and he is, but mostly he’s invested in charming Geralt)
-After an entire season of mutual pining and obliviousness, Tissaia decides she's had enough and rallies the other parents. She has Foltest organize a big party at his country house, has Nenneke promise to look after the girls (the woman doesn't drink) and has Crach whip out the finest spirits he has in storage. Calanthe makes a phenomenal playlist and it's Tissaia's job to get Geralt to the party (Jaskier's not a problem) and dress up nicely. Only Aridea, Renfri's stepmother, refuses to pitch in, but she's been a bitch anyway.
-When Geralt picks up Jaskier at his downtown flat he has to grip the wheel of his rover hard in order not to short-circuit. Jaskier has done something to his hair that Geralt can't name but that makes him go woozy inside. He wears a plain shirt that compliments his eyes and hugs his body just right and he looks high on life with color in his cheeks and the most dazzling smile. He's gorgeous. "Darling, don't you look dashing," Jaskier says excitedly and props his feet up on the dashboard, only after kissing Geralt on the cheek. Which is not fair. "Likewise," Geralt mutters, then blushes furiously. He didn't want that to come out, oh no. Jaskier either didn't hear or acts like it and they drive in silence to Foltest's country house. Well, aside from the songs Jaskier hums under his breath, some new composition no doubt.
-At first, Geralt thinks it's a nice enough party for someone who doesn't like parties. Foltest's grilling burgers, they all have cocktails, the music is mellow. Not that that stops Jaskier from swirling an already quite drunk Calanthe over the terrace in dazzling moves. Geralt wants to be swirled like that. "You really have it bad, don't you?" Crach comments when he notices Geralt staring. Geralt downs his beer (he's no cocktail drinker) and tries pointedly not to stare at how Jaskier's swinging his ass around.
-The buzz makes it easier and he relieves Foltest at the barbecue for a bit. But then Jaskier walks up to him, a little short on breath and grinning his most flirtatious little grin. It gives him fucking dimples. Sigh. "Hey you big strong man," Jaskier says. He smells like pineapple and coconut, but isn't even a little drunk. "Jask," he says, pointedly flipping a burger. "Foltest says he has an old karaoke machine in the shed, but it's too heavy for me. Help me?" - "...fine." Geralt gestures for Foltest to keep up with the meat and he and Jaskier make their way along a garden path that winds through thickets and by a small pond. The shed is painted blue and white and Geralt and Jaskier find it very much cluttered, but not dirty which is nice. Geralt only understands it's a trap when it's already sprung on them. The tiny click of the look is almost inaudible over Jaskier's anxious commentary of their search for the machine. There is only one small window and no light Geralt can see. Fuck.
-"Ehm, Jaskier?" he reaches out and gently touches Jaskier's shoulder which has the other man yelp and jump. Which doesn't bode well for what Geralt has to tell him. "I think we're trapped." The effect is immediate. Jaskier goes rigid, his breath catches. Is he afraid? Claustrophobic perhaps? Shit, so he can't be in on the joke. "Jask?" - "Geralt. I know we aren't the closest, but I need you to hold me right now." And he launches himself at Geralt. Maybe he is in on the joke? No, he's trembling too hard for that. Geralt catches him and does as asked. "I am absolutely going to die," Jaskier whines into Geralt's neck and Geralt can't help a small chuckle as he rubs Jaskier's back soothingly. This is... surprisingly nice for a trap. Also likely Tissaia's doing. Geralt has a rare idea. "What if I distract you until someone finds us?" he murmurs against Jaskier's hair and Jaskier draws back a little. In the half-dark his eyes glisten, widen when they meet Geralt's. "You would?" - "Close your eyes, Jaskier." Geralt feels a surge of daring, perhaps granted by the intimacy and seclusion of the situation. He catches Jaskier's lips with his own. When they part, Jaskier grins, shaking from something other than fear. "I thought you didn’t much like me," he whispers. "I thought I got on your nerves." - "Idiot." They kiss again and, faintly, Geralt can hear someone cheer from outside.
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tedturneriscrazy · 3 years
Text
Through the Looking Glass Ruins. No preamble. Let's do this.
Oh, hey, I finally figured out how to do the "keep reading" thing! Neat!
So that's how they're explaining Willow not being in this, huh? Pixies must be a nasty piece of work.
Incidentally, I really hope we get a Willow-centered episode this season.
"What's the point of being good at this if I can't do anything good with it?" Helluva line
Gus lying on the floor groaning in frustration is a mood
Fuck yeah Gus has a Bad Girl Coven shirt
I don't know how King was talked into recording that "leave a message" bit, but I'm into it.
Hi Willow. Bye Willow.
Loving Luz's permutations of "Gus"
Okay but the whole library card bit implies Luz does this all the damn time.
I'd ask why not get her own, but then I remember who she lives with.
I must admit, it's somewhat jarring to see Gus so filled with self-doubt.
Braxus! (Not worried about his fate so I can just enjoy his presence)
So Construction = earthbending. I knew it!
I also knew that Warden Wrath and Braxus were related! Turns out Wrath is a single dad.
Yes, Gus, those are their tracks.
Mattholomule (God, I hate writing his name) simping over Bria, aka how some people are about Felicia Day. (No problem with her, for the record, I'm just being a smartass)
Gus is actually invited to the adventure rather than offering to come along? That's a refreshing change of pace.
How long was Luz holding her breath?!
It seems the call to adventure won't take no for an answer, Gus.
I know Gus crushing on Bria puts a damper on the Ace Gus headcanon, but consider: Ace Biromantic Gus!
Eda making headlines with her human market, we love to see it
Planet of Humans "Too implausible" lmao
Ah, there's hair down Amity! So good!
"Finally! I can learn how to summon the Dark Lord!"
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Luz is yearning
Do Ed and Em just...go around like that?
"Nah, looks like you've got that covered." So everyone just knows, cool cool.
Ooh, they/them date for Ed!
In this episode: blushing, and lots of it!
Also Luz is such a bi disaster it's great.
The twins definitely know what's up. Then again, Luz and Amity are not in the least bit subtle.
¡Más español!
Amity breaking the rules to help her gf? Now that's character development!
(Although it seems to me they could've just tried asking Malphas about that diary, but whatever)
"You have to do everything I say" I'm sure this won't come back to bite them.
Man, Matt really is quite little. Even Gus is taller than him now.
HADOKEN!
(Not sure if he figured out it was a fire glyph or if he was just guessing)
I say the buffing properties of illusion magic are underappreciated.
Ooh, what if the Galderstones were made by illusionists? That might help explain why illusions aren't boosted by them!
Forbidden Stacks really going hard, huh?
More blushing, always nice
So that's how Amity has her own secret room in the library.
Potential future date in the human realm is a powerful motivator, I see.
That "Don't tread on me" snake never said anything about poking.
Make the butterfly boi lookout, sure.
Beginning to think Bria is not as...nice as she puts on...
Grave robbing is a perfectly wholesome activity for teenagers, right?
Yup, I was right about Bria.
"Who's that Pokémon?!"
"Deadwardian Era" I love this show's wordplay
Y'know, considering all these ancient books have their own separate area, they are not kept in the best condition.
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This is still cute as hell.
So much for the being quiet part...
Of course Malphas talks like an old hippie. Why did I expect any different?
That whole exchange...I just...😭
The "doing stupid things," the dawning comprehension on Amity's face, Luz vowing in Spanish to make things right...so much to unpack here!
Also, I'm still waiting for Amity's turn to have a proper cry this season. That doesn't count.
"It's a faaaaake!" Callback to the Pokémon bit and a Star Trek DS9 reference? I am a master wordsmith!
(Disclaimer: I haven't really watched any Star Trek. Everything I know about it is through osmosis)
Strange, Gus seems less than thrilled by being hugged by a frazzled old man.
Illusionists guarding the Galderstones makes perfect sense, but unfortunately it does require that that fact not be widely known.
Call me crazy, but I think Bria was bullshitting when talking about "changing things for the better."
Wait, are they making Matt less of a shithead? I think I'm okay with this.
Oh, Angmar, a shame you have to hang with such a crowd.
Regardless of that development, I maintain that Angmar>Alador in the contest of butterfly bois.
Come on, Gavin, you can't seriously be falling for this. (Everything about this is hilarious. Big mustaches, man)
"I'm not dumb enough to fall for these tricks!" Give it a moment.
ANCIENT SINS ANCIENT SINS
Yeah, it's an obvious reference, but it's a good one, dammit!
Damn, Gus, going ham with all that. And the whole graveyard, to boot!
That's the thing about illusions, you can get super fucked up with them. Look what they got away with for a TV-Y7 rating!
Welp, Gustholomule just got some fuel.
Aw, sibling bonding moment.
"Is that so bad? You weren't happy before."
New hair color!
Luz is into it!
Ed and Em are us.
Time for lore!
Ah, conveniently timed wind blowing through Luz's hair, I see.
"Don't worry. You have a way of sneaking into people's hearts." This is some Kingdom Hearts bullshit and I am here for it!
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I think I spent all my freakout energy last night, so no all caps for the kiss.
Oh who am I kidding AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA
Luz's turn for dawning comprehension!
Amity's whole reaction to what she just did is 100000/10
The way Luz just sinks to the ground
So yeah, that was something, huh? Gus adventure and Lumity development! What more could you ask for?
(Maybe a few things, but we can talk about that elsewhere)
Anyway, I'll be doing this again next week! Probably sleep deprived as usual.
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blessednereid · 3 years
Text
First Line Tryouts
Series Masterlist
Masterlist
Mentions/Warnings: Implied Smut, making out, cursing, eating/food mentions, mentions dead bodies, slasher film mention, dementia mention, slight domesticality(?)
Word Count: <4,200
A/N: This took so long im so sorry, tried to sum up the events of ep 1, while adding some isaac moments! Enjoy! LMK If I need to add anymore tw’s or cw’s.
Taglist: @rogershoe Dm me to be added to the taglist. 
~---~---~---~---~
There was a week left until your second semester began. Isaac was determined to thank you for everything you had done for him since he told you about his dad. 
He enlisted Stiles and a reluctant Lydia to help him with the planning. Isaac was going to make a picnic basket with your favorite foods. After that, Stiles would drive him to Lookout Point, and Lydia would take you there right after he gave her the go-ahead to let her know it was ok to leave. 
Lydia would take you to the mall so that Isaac could prepare the picnic basket. He had bought assorted fruits, a platter of ham and cheese pinwheels, passion-fruit fruit champagne, your favorite desserts, and your favorite chips. He packed a picnic blanket as well as two smaller ones so that you both could lay under the stars and watch them dance. 
After everything was packed, Stiles drove him to the point in the woods, and two miles away from his destination, he called Lydia and gave her the signal. 
When he reached the peak, before he could do anything, Stiles scolded him.
"Hey scarf," he barked. Isaac turned his head.
"Don't try anything with my sister tonight, alright? You may not be in the house, but I will still be watching everything?"
Isaac paused. "Aren't you going back to Scott's house?" 
"I have eyes everywhere, Lahey," he stated simply before waltzing away.
~---~---~---~---~
When you arrived, Isaac had everything set up, the picnic cloth was laid down on a flat chunk, the colorful plastic champagne glasses he had bought were carefully placed down on top of the plates, 
When you arrived, Isaac had already laid everything out. The picnic blanket was spread out on a flat chunk of land, and the ceramic plates sat on top of it. There was a bundle of spoons and forks, knives, and colorful plastic champagne glasses for the both of you. 
"I-saac, haha," you chuckled.
He bowed. "Good evening, madame. How can I serve you today?" He walked over to you and led you to the setting. 
"Isaac, you didn't have to do all this, you know?" 
"I know, but you've done so much for me recently, and I wanted to thank you."
You looked at him fondly, and he stared back at you before breaking away to grab the fruit. He fed you a strawberry, and after that, you both took turns tossing berries into the air and trying to catch them. 
~---~---~---~---~
After you both were done eating, Isaac packed all the remaining food (which was a lot) into the basket and tossed you a cover. He pulled you closer to him once you were wrapped in the blanket and laid down to watch the stars with his favorite person in the world. 
"That's Orion's belt, right there," you thought out loud. 
"That's the big dipper then," 
"How do you know so many constellations?" Isaac questioned, and you frowned. 
"I- uh…" 
"What's wrong?" He looked at you with worry.
"It was something me and my mom did before she died. She would go out to the woods with me—" you paused."—and she would show me where all the stars were. Stiles was never interested. My obsession with finding the stars became so big she decided to get me a telescope and a big book of all the constellations." 
"Oh, so I'm guessing it's a touchy subject?" 
You laughed. "It's a subject that brings up memories. To be honest, I haven't tried stargazing since my mom's death. This was nice." 
"You never told me much about your mom…" 
"And you never told me about yours," you hit back. 
"Touché." 
You went first. "Before everything, my mom was…in all aspects… perfect. Every day when we came home from school, she would have lunch ready, even if we already ate, just some chips and cookies on the table for Stiles and me." 
You smiled. "Mom would take us outside to the backyard and play soccer with us, us two against her. I think she would go easy on us." 
"When she got diagnosed, she started becoming less… tolerant of us. She would yell for the tiniest things,  and they didn't hurt me as much because Dad would always remind us that she didn't mean it, but I guess it always hurt Stiles more—"
"How do you mean?" Isaac asked.
"He was always a mommy's boy. One night we went to visit her at the hospital, I went to the vending machine to get snacks for Stiles and me, and he was gone. When he came back, he was crying nonstop. I kept trying to get him to tell me what was wrong, but he wouldn't tell me.  The next day it was like he just forgot about it." 
You both sat there in silence for a while longer. 
"My mom…. My mom was always working. She had her own business making soaps and perfumes and stuff like that." 
"She would always ask—" he gulped. "—she would ask my brother and me to help her with her orders. We would always make a mess, so after we were done, she made bubble baths for us." He giggled at the memory. "When she died, I guess we all changed a bit." 
"I got a little shier, Camden got more impulsive, Dad just lost his filter. He put more effort into making sure we were disciplined." He saw your eyes squint. "He didn't hit us back then. He just had stricter rules." 
You pulled him closer to your chest, and you guys just stayed there, looking at the stars, and feeling, even more, closer to each other than before.
You broke the silence.
"Isaac…" 
"Yes, Y/N?"
"I love you…" 
He leaned down to your face and pecked your lips.
"I love you too," he smiled.
~---~---~---~---~
"Y/n!" Isaac was trying to wake you up. You had fallen asleep watching Nightmare on Elm Street. You had been desensitized to all the blood and gore because you and stiles would always stay up late and watch slasher films. This was when your dad worked extra shifts at the Sheriff's station, and your mom was at the hospital.
"N/n, Wake up!" 
He grabbed your ringing phone and pulled it up to your ear, despite knowing he would face your wrath for doing that later on. Stiles had just called you for the 4th time that night, and you weren't waking up.
When you still wouldn't wake up, he did the only thing he could think of, as illogical as it was. He laid down flat on his back and rolled over, pushing you off the bed. You woke with a start. 
"ISAAC, WHAT THE HELL!!"
"Stiles has called you 4 times in 5 minutes, and you told me to wake you up whenever someone calls you…" He fake-pouted. 
Your expression softened because you couldn't resist his cobalt eyes, but you were still angry. You answered the phone and shouted at Stiles to release your frustration. 
"Stiles, what the hell, you're across the hall. Did you really have to call?"
"Hurry up and get ready, Dad just went out, and we need to go get Scott."
"Why do we have to follow dad? It's his job."
"Someone found a dead body, but half of it is missing,"
"Ok, I'm coming," You said while putting on your jeans. 
"Oh, and leave the golden retriever."
"His name is Isaac, not 'golden retriever,' Stiles!" you scolded. 
"Yeah, yeah, whatever, hurry up!"
You finished putting on Isaac's hoodie and turned to face him. 
"I gotta go, love."
He pouted. "Why can't I go with you?"
You went to give him a hug. "We should go with the least amount of people possible., so we don't get caught…" you lied. 
"Is Scott going?" He was always able to tell when you were lying. He knew all your tells and your poker face before you were even dating. 
"Fine, It's Stiles."
"So, I realized. Do I really look like a golden retriever?"
You shrugged and said in a pitchy voice, "An adorable golden retriever?" 
He sighed. 
"Be safe, and come back before midnight, please? I don't wanna go to sleep without you…"
"Nervous for tomorrow?"
"It's the start of first-line tryouts. I really wanna make it this year,"
"I'm sure that you'll make it Isaac, you are one of the most hand-eye coordinated people I know, and at every game, I will be there to cheer you guys on!"
 He smiled at your statement and kissed you. 
"Be sa—"
"Y/N, Hurry up!" Stiles shouted from downstairs. 
~---~---~---~---~
You stayed in the car while Stiles was getting Scott, silently cursing him for not allowing Isaac to come but going to get Scott. 
Scott and Stiles got out of the house and piled into the car. 
"Next time you wanna leave the 'golden retriever,' Stiles, we're also leaving the poodle," you angrily intoned.
Scott took up an offended expression. "Poodle?"
"Would you rather chihuahua?"
"Nevermind..."
"No, we're not leaving Scott. He's my best friend," Stiles said defensively.
"Oh yeah? Isaac is my boyfriend, yet he couldn't come!" 
"My car, my choice of guests."
"Fuck off, Miechyvslaw!"
~---~---~---~---~
"We're seriously doing this?"
"Obviously," you stated simply.
He started driving the car, and they headed to the woods where the search party for the body and the other half of it would be located. 
"You're the one always bitching that nothing ever happens in this town," Stiles said.
"I was trying to get a good night's sleep before practice tomorrow."
"Right, cause sitting on the bench is such a grueling effort," Stiles sassed.
"No, because I'm playing this year. In fact, I'm making the first line."
"Hey, that's the spirit. Everyone should have a dream, even a pathetically unrealistic one."
You interrupted their bickering. "Just out of curiosity, do either of you know what half of the body we're even looking for?"
"Uhhh-" Stiles stuttered.
"And uh- what if whoever killed the body is still out there," Scott questioned.
"Also, something I did not think about."
"It's comforting to know that you've planned this out with your usual attention to detail," Scott stated. 
Stiles and Scott continued bickering, but soon, you saw a flashlight.
"Shit! Hide!" you warned, but Stiles kept going. You leaped forward, trying to grab his shirt and pull him back, but your dad caught you.
"Hang on. Hang on. These two delinquents belong to me."
Stiles sighed. 
"I told you to hide, you brat!" you whispered to him.
"Daaaaad!" He enunciated. "How are you doing?"
"So, do you, uh, listen into all my phone calls?"
"Not the boring ones," Stiles said. 
"So, where's your usual partner in crime?"
"Wh-who Scott? Scott's home, he said before continuing to ramble.
Your dad had called out for Scott, and when he didn't respond, dragged you and Stiles back to the Jeep. 
~---~---~---~---~
You went back to your room once you got to the house and found Isaac asleep on the bed.
"Izzie!" You grabbed a plush pillow from beside him and whacked him softly with it. 
You went home that night, not knowing where Scott was or what had happened to him while worrying about what Melissa would do to you if Scott got bitten by a coyote and she found out you lured him out there.
He stirred but didn't wake. You groaned and moved beside him.
"Isaac?" you shrilled. "Isaac, you were supposed to wait for me to come back!!"
You shook his body left and right until he woke up groggily.
"N/n?"
He fully opened his eyes and groaned at the comfort that it was you.
"You scared me!" he complained.
You began shuffling towards him and running your hands down his covered pectorals. "Aww… what can I do to make you feel better?"
"Anything?" he said before sucking in a breath.
"Anything, baby," You nodded. 
He pulled you onto his lap and started kissing you passionately, your lips meshing together. He trailed his lips from yours to your cheekbones, then to your jawline, nibbling slightly. You moved your hips forcefully against his, and he brought one hand down to your waist.
"Hey, is this ok?"
You nodded vehemently. 
He pushed your hips back and forth along his while leaving dark red marks towards the base of your neck and your collarbone. He sucked a hickey onto a pulse point, making you let out a moan, which you tried muffling by pressing your lips together. 
He brought his hands to the hem of your shirt and tugged slightly before looking up at you. You replaced his hands and pulled your shirt off of your torso. 
He placed open-mouthed kisses onto the tops of your breasts, causing you to throw your head back in delight. He brought his hand back to the small of your back and shuffled you forwards on his lap. 
He turned you over onto your back and continued to kiss from your chest up. He stood on his knees in front of you and pulled his shirt off of his body. He placed one more brief kiss on your lips before gripping your thighs and lowering down your body.
~---~---~---~---~
Stiles drove you, Isaac, and Scott to school the next day. When you got out of the car, Scott and Stiles were talking about a bite that Scott had gotten when he went to the woods, but he assured you that you wouldn't face Melissa's wrath. 
When you saw Lydia amongst the crowd, you dragged Isaac all the way to her. Lydia had never liked Isaac, feeling like her best friend could do much better than someone who wouldn't even talk to her(you) for extensive periods of time. 
"Hey Lyds!" you said with Isaac's face buried in your neck. He was not fond of Lydia either, not that she had done anything, but he had picked up on her apathy towards him and just decided he would do the same. 
"Hey Y/N! Isaac." You all walked into the building and headed for your respective classes. 
~---~---~---~---~
You had English first, and the teacher was rambling about the dead body found in the woods. 
A familiar faced walked into the room, and you almost squealed. It was your godsister, Allison Argent. You knew that her family was moving to  Beacon Hills, but you hadn't known when they would be arriving. 
Chris Argent, Allison's dad, was your mother's best friend in high school. When she gave birth to you and Stiles, she made Chris your godfather.
You quietly clapped your hands at her appearance. She smiled at you before taking the seat diagonally across from you and right behind Scott. You noticed how when he turned around to give her a pencil, he looked highly flustered. 
Before you could point this out and tease him about it, your teacher began to talk about the novel you were reading as a class.
~---~---~---~---~
When you got out of class, you decided to introduce Lydia to Allison. 
When you both approached Allison, she squealed and ran to give you a hug, almost causing you to stumble. You hugged her back for a good five seconds before letting her go. 
"That jacket is absolutely killer! Where'd you get it?" Lydia asked the brunette.
"My mom was a buyer for a boutique back in San Francisco."
"And, you are my new best friend!" Lydia said before greeting her boyfriend, Jackson, who had come up behind her. 
"Hey? What about me? Already replacing me with my godsister?" you asked before you felt two slender arms wrap around your waist.
"Never!" Lydia smiled. "We can all be friends." 
You could hear a girl talking about Lydia or Allison or both, and you decided you would defend your friends. 
You walked over to where she was talking to Stiles and Scott.
"Hey, what's going on over here?"
"Oh, Audrey here was asking what Allison did to already be hanging out with your exclusive clique."
"Uh, nothing? She's just Allison." You said, looking at Scott and Stiles but directing it towards Aubrey. You then turned on your heels and walked away.
You had found that your friends had told Allison about the upcoming party and were just about to head to the lacrosse practice for the day.
~---~---~---~---~
You gave Isaac a good luck kiss before he went out to the field, and Lydia looked at you weirdly.
"What is it?" you asked, rolling your eyes.
"Nothing, Nothing."
"Why do you have such a problem with my boyfriend?"
She turned to look at you. "I don't know, maybe it's because you caught feelings when he hadn't said a single word to you for a week and didn't for another week after you first kissed him"
"It could be that when you asked him out and actually confessed your feelings, he waited a week to give you a response and made you think that he was rejecting you, which made you cry?"  
You rubbed your temples. "Lydia, I explained all this to you. He's a shy guy. He just doesn't talk much to people, and he thought I was playing a joke on him."
She shook her head. "Mark my words, Y/N, he's going to end up breaking your heart, and when he does, I'll be left to pick up the pieces."
You groaned. "Allison, does Isaac look like someone who would hurt me?"
"No? He looks like… He looks like a golden retriever!"
The three of you burst out laughing, and Lydia promised to try and be tolerant of Isaac.
Suddenly, it was Scott's turn to try guarding the goal. He allowed the first shot through before finding his footing and blocking the rest of the throws. 
"Who is that?" Your godsister asked. 
"Hmm… I'm not sure who he is," Lydia said questioningly.
You scoffed. "That is Scott McCall. Stiles' best friend. Why?"
"He's in our English class. He seems like he's pretty good," she said sagely.
She changed the subject. "Speaking of Stiles, how is he? I haven't talked to him since I got back."
"He's-" you tried answering but stopped short. "Wooh! Go, Isaac!"
He smiled at you before going to shoot lacrosse balls at the goalie.
On the final day of tryouts, you and Isaac had done stretches, though he didn't know why, and they had run laps around the field before practice had started.
The coach started talking to the players, and you, Lydia, and Allison sat in the stands. By the time practice was over, Scott had made the first line, but Stiles and Isaac didn't. To cheer them up, you had taken them to their favorite to-go restaurant and bought dessert for them.
~---~---~---~---~
It was a Friday night. You were particularly sad, not only because Isaac couldn't go with you, but because Isaac had his weekly dinner with his dad today. So, he wouldn't even be there when you fell asleep. 
Scott and Stiles had gotten into a fight earlier, so he wasn't going to the party. This left Jackson to drive you, who was taking Lydia to the party. This didn't make you too happy, seeing as how Jackson was a self-entitled bastard who got his status from his family and isn't grateful for any of it. 
You didn't understand how Lydia had decided it would be a good idea to date him. But, you knew that the same way she couldn't change your mind about Isaac, she wouldn't change your mind about Jackson. 
You wore a pink satin body-con dress that reached your mid-thigh. Isaac had picked it out for you when he realized he wouldn't have been able to attend the party. He was ok with it being as short because he knew all the guys there would remember what happened to Garrett Ferrero after he started hitting on you at a party. He had to get nose surgery because Isaac had broken it, and his nose swelled up so large, he didn't come to school until it shrunk.
You paired it with opaque tights with fishnets on top and a pair of red, 3-inch, cut-out heels. As for makeup, you had outlined your lips with a black lip liner and smeared a cherry red lipstick over it. You applied minimal foundation and went for a nude eyeshadow look. 
When you stepped out of the bathroom in your outfit, Isaac nearly went feral. He lightly kissed the expanse of your neck, knowing you would kill him if he messed up your makeup, and he ended up backing you both into a wall. 
You had to swat him away after a few seconds of this affair because you had to leave soon, and so did he, albeit reluctantly. You put a black jean jacket on top of your outfit before heading downstairs. 
He left your house a few minutes before you did, but just before you left, Stiles pulled you aside.
"Hey, Y/N, just watch out for Scott today, and especially Allison." Stiles was overprotective of both of you. Before Allison and her family began moving around, she was like a sister to both of you. You three did almost everything together. 
"Stiles, what's going on?"
He sighed. "Ok, this is going to be hard to explain, but you have to go. So I'm going to give you the brief version right now and explain later."
You nodded, beckoning him to continue. 
"The night Scott got bit by that 'coyote'... it wasn't a coyote. It was a wolf, and wolf hairs were reported on the autopsy of the dead body. Scott has been experiencing heightened senses, and he's been stronger. Y/N, he hasn't needed his inhaler all week."
Your eyes widened. You didn't know what to say.
"So… you think he's a werewolf."
"Better to be safe and absurd than sorry and sad. Tonight's a full moon, and he just wouldn't cancel that date. Just look out for them, you know?"
You bobbed your head up and down vigorously. 
You left the house, and outside were Jackson and Lydia, in the front seat of his Porsche. It was a nice ride but a bit overly embellished for someone who only just got his license.
 ~---~---~---~---~
Later at the party, you had last seen Allison and Scott as they were dancing. You were dancing with your friend, Marya Cullen. She was a freshman, so she didn't really know most of your other friends. You had met her through your job at Forever 21, and you instantly clicked. 
She was really drunk, so you called another one of her friends and asked them to take her home. Marya had given her friends a list of the people allowed to drive her home if this happened. 
It was just as you were putting Marya in the backseat, you saw Scott walking away from her, dazed. While that happened, a mysterious guy who looked much older than you were approaching Allison. 
"Hey, I'm her friend. I got it, thanks!" 
You walked with Allison back to her house after grabbing all your belongings and immersed in conversation, mostly about how weird Stiles was being. Stiles was driving in his Jeep when he saw you coming from Allison's house. You got into the Jeep, and you both went home. 
When you got there, you changed into your pajamas and laid down onto the surface of a cold bed. You grabbed your thickest pillow and pulled it into your arms, trying to create some semblance of a feeling of Isaac laying down with you.
~---~---~---~---~
You awoke to bright sunlight and a buzzing phone by your head. Isaac had been calling you to ask you to let him in the house. You realized it was high time that he gets a key to the front door. 
You went downstairs to greet your boyfriend, and you noticed that he had brought Starbucks. You almost caused him to fall to the floor had he not caught you in time. He set you on the floor and kissed your lips before heading to the kitchen.
He had gotten your regular order, as well as your favorite drink, and he had gotten his order as well. 
You guys say down to just eat and relax.
He took a sip of his iced coffee before saying anything.
"My dad wants me to work at the graveyard," he said, pensive.
You choked on your food. "What?" 
"Well, he said he's cutting off my allowance." 
"So he said I can either earn it by working at the graveyard or stay broke." 
"That's fine, darling?" 
"I know, but I still want to get a job to save so once I turn 18, I can move out. And, he is willing to let me choose my own hours, or really just give me hours that don't interfere with lacrosse practice."
You gave him a solemn look and whined. "But that means we won't have as much cuddle time?" 
"He shouldn't even be in your room," your dad said, approaching you from behind.
"Hi, dad."
"Good morning, Mr. Stilinsk—"
"Isaac," your dad interjected. "It's fine. You can call me Noah." 
Isaac smiled. 
-------fin--------
125 notes · View notes
lost-in-the-80s · 3 years
Text
Winter Memories pt. 2
Pairing: Axl Rose x reader
Words: 3,156k
Summary: The pressure of making a new album is finally hitting Axl. To get rid of some stress he decides to take a trip to Norway, however, he did not expect to meet a mysterious woman there.  (smut + fluff)
A/N: I am back with part two!! Let me know if you liked it! Sorry it took me so long! There will be some lines in norwegian again, the translations will be below in italics.
Warnings: Mature content, swearing and unprotected sex. (Use a condom, guys!) ​​
Tag list: @roger-taylors-car​​ @ladieswttda​ @teasid​ @metalheartofgold​ @slashscowboyboots​ @ginny-rose-sixx​  @rumoured-whispers​ @normatural​ add yourself to my tag list :)
Tagging who showed interest for a second part: @sugwinter​​ @vinylvintage​​ @fosterchild-3203​ @littlemisscare-all​​ @ultrabithc​
Part 1
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A year passed after that weekend. December arrived and Y/N got ready to spend another weekend at Anna's cottage.
As she packed her bags, she couldn't stop thinking about Axl, the mysterious redhead she had met the year before. He never left her mind, not even for a day.
But finding him would be impossible, so she ignored her heart's pleas that begged her to go to the United States to look for him. Her best chance was to hope he was in the cottage.
During the flight to the mountains, anxiety washed over her body. It was the longest two hours of her life. Her stomach was full of butterflies, as the memories of that night filled her mind.
Taking a taxi she asked the driver three times to go faster, ignoring the fact that the track was slippery with snow.
As soon as she reached the cottage she strode toward the front door, hoping to see him already waiting for her. But he wasn’t there.
After asking Anna she was sure, he wouldn’t come. His name wasn’t on the schedule list, nor had been since that weekend in December.
Han må ha gått videre med livet sitt, og du fortsetter å tenke på ham. She thought to herself.
He must have gone on with his life and you silly keep thinking about him.
Y/N tried to stick to her routine schedule, but spending twenty minutes on a bus to go skiing seemed too tiring. So she spent the entire Friday in her room, reading and whining about her life.
The next morning she woke up late and walked slowly down the steps. She had decided to have breakfast and go back to the airport, catch a flight to Oslo and try to forget all of that. Staying at the cottage brought too many memories to her mind.
“God morgen, Anna” She said calmly.
"Good morning, Anna."
“God morgen Y/N" The lady replied smiling.
"Good morning, Y/N."
Looking at all the breakfast options, she just couldn't feel hungry, so she took a big mug of coffee and sat at a table, sighing when she realized she had sat at the same table he was at the previous year.
After a few minutes, Anna came over, pulling the chair across from her to sit down.
"Hva skjer, Y/N?" The lady asked, touching the younger woman’s hand on top of the table.
"What's going on Y/N?"
“Det er ingenting, Anna, du trenger ikke å bekymre deg.” She gave a weak smile.
"It's nothing, Anna, you don't have to worry."
"Det er ikke gutten?"
"It's that boy, isn't it?"
Y/N looked out the window, avoiding the lady's gaze.
"Han så veldig trist ut dagen han reiste."
"He looked really sad the day he left."
She looked at the lady, seeing compassion in her eyes.
“Ikke bekymre deg, Anna. Jeg klarer meg. ” She smiled, trying to look convincing.
"Don't worry, Anna, I'll be fine."
----
During the next two years, she improved. She focused on work and was able to be distracted from her own thoughts.
She had a few boyfriends during that time, but she couldn't help comparing them to the redhead, and given his color and brilliance, all the others became gray and opaque.
During the nights, his face appeared in her dreams, they were always together and happy and she hated waking up every day and knowing that it would never go beyond that, a dream.
Sometimes she could even go a week without thinking about him, but then something simple reminded her again. Like when she wore the sweater she was wearing that night.
She felt stupid, it was ridiculous to feel that way after so long, especially for someone she only met for a weekend. But every time a rock song played on the radio, she remembered him.
He had said he worked with rock and she always wondered what he meant by that. Was he a band manager? Or was he a member of one of the bands that had already crossed her ears? She would never know and maybe it was for the best.
"Y/N!"
The sound of her name made her look up from the papers she was signing.
It was Hanna. She had moved from the United States to Norway the previous year, working in the office's accounting. The two became close very fast and today they were best friends.
"Hanna..." She looked up smiling.
“Guns n Roses will be playing here in June!! I can't believe it, I thought I would never see them live again! ” She gave little leaps of joy.
"Hmm that’s great, I'm happy for you," Y/N said, smiling at the girl one more time before going back to work. She didn't listen to much music so going to concerts and festivals was not quite her style.
"Come with me?" She crouched down in front of the table.
"Oh I don't know, you know I don't like these crowded places."
"Please. I don't want to go alone. ” She made puppy eyes, staring at Y/N.
"Do not look at me like that!" She pointed her index finger, but Hanna was persistent. "Ah, fine, I'll go with you!" She gave in.
"Yess!!" Hanna celebrated as she stood up doing a victory dance.
Y/N started laughing, making the girl stop.
"What's it?"
She pointed with the pen. Looking back, Hanna saw her boss shaking his head as he looked in her direction.
"Shit!" She scratched the back of her neck, sitting on the chair in front of Y/N’s table. "Do you think he's going to fire me?"
"No ... but he'll think twice before inviting you to the Christmas party this year." She giggled a little.
"Thank God..." She breathed a sigh of relief.
"What day will the concert be?" Y/N asked, going back to signing papers.
“June 10th. I'm going to buy tickets today after work, I'll bring yours tomorrow.”
Hanna looked like a child when she was happy, which always relaxed Y/N's serious mood.
"All right." She prolonged the first word, writing the day on a post-it note.
---
June 10th arrived and Hanna made sure they arrived two hours ahead to get a spot close to the stage.
Wearing denim shorts and a black T-shirt, she accompanied Hanna across the field until she reached the edge of the stage. At least she would be able to see the show up close.
The hot afternoon sun went down and a cool breeze came with the night, but Y/N's irritation didn’t fade away. The band was almost an hour late for the concert and every few minutes someone was bumping into her, making her wish she had stayed at home.
The stage lights came on and a guy with black curly hair came on stage, playing a riff that sounded wonderful to her ears.
Kanskje jeg vil glede meg over denne konserten. She thought to herself
Maybe I’ll enjoy this concert.
Soon the rest of the band members appeared and she became convinced that it would be a good show. That's until the vocalist entered the stage.
He was wearing tight white shorts and a leather jacket, his hair in a red bandana and her heart missed a beat.
Her mouth was slightly open and she put her hand on her chest, to make sure her heart was still beating.
It was him. Axl. The guy from the cottage.
He funnily ran and danced around the stage and his voice sounded so different from what she remembered. But there was no doubt, it was him.
"What's it?" Hanna screamed near her ear when she saw that her friend was not moving.
"It's him!"
"Who?"
"The guy from the cottage!"
She had told Hanna about the event, although she had never mentioned his name.
"Axl Rose??" Hanna's eyes widened, looking from Y/N to Axl and to Y/N again. "Holy shit!"
For the rest of the concert, Y/N couldn't take her eyes off of him anymore. But he hadn't noticed her. They were on the side and he spent more time in the center.
But then the guitar solo started and the same guy from the beginning took over from Axl, who started to leave the stage.
He was smiling, laughing at something and then his eyes shifted to the right and he saw her. The smile disappeared completely from his face and stopped walking.
The two stared at each other for a few seconds before he walked over to the edge, making the fans next to Y/N scream out of control.
"Good to see you." He smiled, lowering himself in front of her.
She nodded, smiling, not being able to form words.
Fans around her started trying to push her to get closer to him, the screams making it impossible for her to understand what he had said.
He could tell by her face that she didn't understand, pointing sideways with his thumb and making a sign with his fingers that meant later.
"Backstage later." He spoke again and she could read his lips, finally managing to assimilate the information.
She nodded quickly, giving him a thumbs up.
After the solo, the band played a few more songs before finishing. At every chance he got, Axl came over to her, singing while looking into her eyes, making a huge smile come over her lips.
When the show was over she pulled Hanna by the hand, heading backstage. Where a security guard at the entrance made her stop.
"Hi, I'm Y/N, Axl is waiting for me." She said with a small smile.
"Identification, please."
"She showed him the concert ticket."
"This is the common ticket, I’m sorry Y/N, but you can’t pass."
"Wait! Y/N? ” A man in a red button-down shirt appeared behind the security guard. "Are you Y/N?"
She nodded.
"Let her in, Axl wants to talk to her."
"What about this one?" He pointed to Hanna.
"She’s with me!" Y/N said, taking her friend's hand.
"Let her in too."
The security guard made room, letting the two pass.
"Come, this way." He started walking down several corridors. "I'm Doug Goldstein, by the way." He turned for half a second offering them a small smile.
"We're here," he said after almost a minute of walking.
Opening the door there was a spacious room with several couches, all the members of the band were there, except him. There were other women in the room, some on the lap of the band members.
"They are groupies." Hanna whispered in Y/N's ear.
"What is it?"
"They like rockstars, travel with bands and sleep with them."
Y/N nodded, understanding what she meant. "Lucky for them, they are very cute."
"Aren’t they?" She laughed softly.
"Hey, I saw you two at the gig!" A tall, blond guy said getting closer.
"Oh my God, Duff McKagan noticed me during the gig!" Hanna said, putting her hand on her forehead as if she was going to pass out.
Duff laughed.
"And you are?" He offered his hand for them to shake.
"My goodness!!" She gave a little squeak. "I'm Hanna and this is Y/N." She shook his hand. "I shook Duff McKagan's hand!!" She looked at Y/N. "Do you believe? Me?" Hanna pointed to herself.
Y/N and Duff laughed.
"Is she always that excited?" He asked as he shook Y/N's hand.
"She is a huge fan." She said laughing.
"I am! I am! I even have a T-shirt signed by Slash. I paid
200 bucks on it.” She said the last part with a little remorse for the money spent.
"We can get you another one, I can ask the guys to sign it for you." He smiled a little and Hanna smiled, nodding quickly.
“So you are the famous Y/N! Axl has talked about you for years! ”
Before she could answer she heard his voice saying her name.
Looking to the side, Axl was standing in the hall, wearing only his shorts while a towel was slung over his shoulder.
Det forblir varmt. She thought.
He’s still hot.
He nodded, indicating that she should follow him, so she did.
After a few steps, Axl stopped, opening a door that had his name written on it, and letting her in first. As soon as he closed the door, her lips were glued to his.
Their kiss was hot as summer rain and urgent as if they only had a few seconds to do it. Her hands touched his face, bringing him closer, while his hands infiltrated in her hair, gently pulling the strands at the top of her neck.
A small moan left her lips and he smiled during the kiss, pulling away just long enough to say, "God, how I missed that sound."
He moved his hands to her waist, starting to walk farther into the room, taking her with him.
"Axl." She sighed his name when their lips parted.
He moved away from her a few inches as he stroked her face with his right hand, the left one remaining on her waist, keeping her close.
"Fuck, you haven't changed a thing." He looked at every detail on her face, as if he wanted to memorize it.
"I missed you." She smiled, touching his face.
Axl closed his eyes, focusing on the feeling of her touch.
"I missed you so much, you have no idea." He opened his eyes, kissing her again.
The kiss grew hotter and when she realized Axl's hands were on the hem of her shirt. She lifted her arms, breaking and kissing and allowing him to remove the garment.
He let out a small growl in the kiss when she pulled his hair gently and he lowered his hands to her ass, squeezing her flesh before he propelled her upward.
Y/N intertwined her legs around Axl's waist and he started to move towards a sofa in the living room. He laid her down gently, removing his lips from hers just so that he could make a trail down her neck, slowly going into the valley between her breasts.
She moved her hands to her back, unclasping her bra and allowing Axl to enjoy her nipples. He took one of them to his mouth, sucking lightly by biting the skin while his fingers played with the other, causing a small moan to come out of her lips.
Y/N moved her hand towards Axl's shorts, feeling his already rigid erection over the fabric, making him moan and look her in the eyes. His gaze was filled with lust with a touch of malice, his pupils dilated.
Continuing his kisses to the south, Axl stopped at the waistband of her shorts, unbuttoning the garment and removing it from her body. His fingers caressed her core over her panties, making her gasp.
He slowly removed the last piece of clothing from her body, applying soft kisses to the extension of her leg, until the material was finally free and she was completely exposed to his gaze.
He stood up, removing his white shorts, tossing them on the floor before removing his sneakers in a hurry. He wore no underwear and the sight of his free and throbbing member made Y/N bite her lower lip while she sat down.
Axl climbed onto the couch, kissing her again. She moved her hands to his shoulders, pushing him to sit on the sofa, his back against the armrest when she climbed on his lap, making him smile mischievously.
Y/N touched his member, running its length a few times before collecting some of her juices with its tip and positioning it at her entrance.
Slowly she started to go down, keeping her gaze fixed on Axl's, she felt him fill her completely, letting a small moan leave her lips with the sensitivity.
She started with her movements, going up and down. Axl's hands found her hips, squeezing them firmly and guiding her movements until she reached a steady rhythm.
"Axl" She moaned his name, throwing her head back and allowing the sensation of pleasure to take over her mind.
"Fuck, you're so beautiful." He moved his lips to her now exposed neck, making her moan even more.
After a few minutes, Axl started to move his hips, meeting her movements, hitting her G-spot with strength and precision, making a loud moan leave her lips.
"Yes, moan for me, baby." He moved his thumb to her lips, allowing her to suck it, and he grunted at the sight.
"Axl ... I’m going to ..." Her breathing was rapid when she uttered the words between moans.
"I know baby. Cum to me. ” He said, moving his right hand to her clit, applying precise movements that made her moan even louder, if that was possible.
A cry with his name filled the room when she reached her peak, rolling her eyes and feeling her legs tremble with the wave of pleasure that spread through her body.
Axl's hands cupped her face, bringing her close to him as they continued to move. He enveloped her in a deep kiss and her hands tugged at his hair, knowing it was his weak spot.
"Oh, fuck." He groaned after a few minutes, parting their lips, but staying close enough that their noses would bump up every few seconds. "I love you." He said looking into her eyes, his thrusts becoming sloppier.
"I love you." She whimpered due to sensitivity, she could feel her walls tightening for another orgasm and she scraped his back with greed when a long moan left her lips and she closed her eyes.
“Fuck… Y/N.” It was all that Axl could say before they could both be hit by another orgasm, his jets filling her while her walls tightened his member, their juices mixing inside of her.
Sweaty and out of breath, all that could be heard in the room were their heavy breaths.
She leaned her forehead against his, holding his face with both hands as he hugged her.
"You don't know how much time I spent looking for you." He whispered.
She opened her eyes to meet his gaze.
"I hired a guy, but he never found you." 
She removed some locks of his hair away from his sweaty forehead. "I went back to the cottage the following year, but you weren't there."
"Shit, I was on tour." He giggled a little.
"When I was told we were going to play here, I couldn't help but hope that you would come."
"Well, I'm here now." She smiled sweetly, kissing his lips.
“Come to America with me? I don't want to be away from you anymore. ”
She stopped for a few seconds, thinking about his proposal.
"Please." He pleaded in a whisper.
Slowly she started to nod. “Yes, I will go with you! I don't want to be away from you anymore either. ”
The two smiled at each other before engaging in another passionate kiss, glad for finally being together again.
119 notes · View notes
botwstoriesandsuch · 3 years
Text
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[Image ID: A screenshot of an anon asking saying “I just wanna say that your tags whenever you rb art and fics are so cute 🥺 you reblogged something of mine the other day and the tags were just so nice and innocent??? It’s like watching a little kid at an aquarium 😝so as an artist I thank you, hope you don’t take it as cringy” End ID]
- - - - - 
Cringey?? nonononono I may be a young kid watching the pretty fish swim aimlessly in the aquarium but I will
recklessly enjoy other people’s content don’t test me
I try to keep it in the tags cause I don’t wanna take away from the op’s original work, plus it makes it easier for other people to rb it from me, but I will amp up the love and appreciation when the situation calls for it. You could straight up come into my inbox or messages and just ask me to give you a reblog and I will do it, I do not care I love you, content creators.
Cringe Culture is dead it’s time to gush plus if I do this often enough people might do it more for me so it’s a win win hehe
Legit, I got a super sweet comment on one of my fics quoting something I wrote and it made me so happy so I was like “huh, guess I’ll do that more often then” and now I’m doing that, that’s how impressionable I am asdfghjk
Also hello?? specifically *my* tags helped you out?? I am a nobody, CLEARLY not enough people are doing this smh, allow me to teach the masses for a sec here
How To Make A Content Creator Happy: the world’s simplest guide to spreading serotonin through a keyboard
Step fucking one) You reblog it. I mean, that’s a given. You’ve all seen those “reblogs help creators out and likes do nothing” posts so I won’t rant too much. Likes are good, but reblogs are like handing someone a stack of a hundred dollars and all it takes is one click! 
(PRO TIP: Hold down the button and swipe for mobile, and hold the left alt button and click once for computer [though it will only rb to your main blog. if you want it for a side-blog then you’re stuck with two clicks but HEY two clicks to help out a creator you like is nothing!])
You share it! Just share stuff. Share the ao3 like, please do it. Don’t repost, don’t just mention it, give the links especially when you’re just in conversation or talking about it around plz I swear it does wonders
Ok moving on to the super simple stuff for commenting and putting stuff in the tags because I guarantee that the op will read them
write A N Y T H I N G and I literally mean anything just fucking:
!!!!!!!
!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
sdjflksdjfkjh
?!?!?!?!!?
hhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhghghhhhhhhhh
:OOOOOOOOO
prettyyy
<33333333333333333
just fucking go ham, go nuts, it doesn’t need to be coherent it just needs to EXIST the very existence of someone enjoying someone’s content gives so much serotonin so stop being silent cowards and give us a smiley face from time to time
uh what else what else....hmm [golden rule is treat others the way you want to be treated, so if you’re a creator yourself, just give whatever you would want seen in the comments of your stuff! I mean that’s how I came up with all this...]
Point out the details! I mentioned earlier about quoting stuff from fics (that stuff is just 👌👌👌 so delicious) but I’m pretty sure (I’m not an artist myself don’t quote me) that the exact same effect is present when you talk about details in art or something. So talk about that pretty snowflake in the background! Or that piece of dialogue that made you laugh. Just a simple nod to the details is a big difference between saying “I like this” versus “I like this thing that you took the time to make the effort you put into the details did not go unnoticed”
just ALL the feedback please and thank you
this might vary from person to person, though personally I love when people are like “The way you write imagery is so good please do more!!” so just give a little nod to someone like “The way you draw this character is amazing please do more” or something like that
I wouldn’t go as far as to give criticism (although personally I’m the type of person that loves the occasionally critique for future reference, cause it means that you care as much as I do about the quality of my work) 
But along the same lines as the details thing, a nice nod to a creator about what they’re doing right is sooooo good! makes the butterflies flutter
                ~~~~~~Did that post give you emotions?~~~~~~
   G   O   O   D
 ~~FUCKING TELL US~~
THE ACT OF SOMEONE WRITING A SET OF LETTERS, OR SOMEONE SKETCHING A BLOB MADE ANOTHER DISTANT HUMAN BEING DEVELOP CHEMICALS IN THEIR BRAIN?? SURE WOULD LOVE TO KNOW THAT BECAUSE WOW THAT’S AMAZING!?!??
just go “I’m so happy” or “I’m so sad” just “TT__TT” just fucking “:OO” or just “I hate this” [HUMOURISTICALLY] and “I can’t believe you’ve done” just give it yes tell us the emotion that you have felt we love it
I don’t think enough people understand how amazing that is???? You were once in a normal, neutral state, and then a piece of content that I created just made you smile or laugh or cry like WHAT that’s amazing omg
Ok so that’s pretty much the simple stuff right, that’s your elementary classwork right there
Just give something, literally anything and just go “I love this so much!!!!!” bam done, you just murdered the op with your love, great job
So yeah, that’s that. Pretty simple stuff, no?
...but you wanna graduate to master class?
You wanna fucking go ape shit
you wanna just
g o    t o    town?
I said this was gonna be a simple guide so don’t worry, I’m not gonna tell you that you have to write a full length essay on every post that you come across
[BUT IF YOU WANT TO DON’T LET ME STOP YOU THAT WOULD ACTUALLY BE AMAZING?? HELL WRITING OUT A PARAGRAPH OF A COMMENT IS ALREADY JUST *CHEFS KISS* MASTERCLASS OF MURDERING THE OP WITH LOVE JUST ANALYZING THE SHIT OUT OF THE COLORS AND SHADING AND FRAMING OR JUST POINTING OUT THE THEMES AND SUBTEXT AND CHARACTERIZATION --part of the reason I love betaing stuff so much because I can analyze shit and shower it with premature love while also helping fics to be even better than they were originally ugh so cleansing for my literature heart-- SO YEAH GIVE CREATORS A PARAGRAPH, DARE I DREAM OF PARAGRAPHS, BECAUSE WOW YES PLEASE YES]
...ahem anyway
the way to graduate from good to great as a receiver of content is
to do all this
any of this
any of this simple stupid amazing shit
and just
put it in an ask or message
that’s literally it
Let me tell you why that’s so amazing, it pumps up the already amazing dopamine dosage of these actions alone, and multiplies it by a hundred, let me tell you why
Let’s say you read a drabble. You loved it, you reblogged it, you gave it hearts and emojis and ranted for a few tags about how it made you drop your muffin on the ground. Fantastic work, you just made the op pass out.
Then you go about your day and that’s the end of that.
BUT
if you do all that
and then put it in an ASK
dare you even a direct message?? (probably not most of us on here are cowards I get that)
but an ASK, anon or otherwise?
The message you just sent to the op was “I interacted with the post you made, and I loved it so much that I went the extra mile of going to your blog to make extra extra sure you understand how much I liked your thing”
There’s a wordless wall with every post! You like and reblog the thing and move on with your day. 
But the fact that YOU sent a HEART a SINGLE sentence about how you liked a thing? the fact that you BREACHED that wall and just fucking keyboard smashed in the inbox? the fact that you did that is the most amazing thing in the world
you just ambush the op with good vibes. we were expecting the bare minimum in the comments and tags, but the fact you when out of your way to make it a message or ask???? superb, outstanding, the sheer SHOCK of it will shift tectonic plates
you’re my fucking hero if you do this. you’re a godsend. I would kill for you,👏people👏would👏kill👏for👏you.
AT LEAST THEY WOULD KILL FOR YOU IF THIS ACTION DIDN’T ALREADY MURDER THEM
BE A MURDERER, NAY, A SERIAL KILLER. MURDER CONTENT CREATORS WITH LOVE
BE RECKLESSLY KIND AND LOVING YOU PIECE OF SHIT, ITS IMPOSSIBLE TO BE CRINGY TO STARVING AND DYING WRITERS AND ARTISTS WE WILL TAKE IT ALL GOD DAMMIT
YOU ARE A CHILD STARING UP AT AN AQUARIUM IN WONDER.
MAKE YOUR HAPPINESS STIR THE TIDES, LET YOUR PRESCENCE BE KNOWN PAST THE REFLECTION OF THE GLASS.
THE FISH ARE LOOKING FOR YOUR SMILE. 
174 notes · View notes
slippinmickeys · 3 years
Text
The Earl (3/13)
If you’d like to read this on AO3, you may do so here. 
CHAPTER THREE
“A sporting holiday?” Scully asked, smiling, “Oh, that sounds lovely.” She had paused with her soup spoon halfway to her mouth, Mulder fairly bursting to tell her of the invitation he’d received, over dinner.
Mulder smiled at her, encouraged. He set down his wine glass, his soup sitting in front of him, uneaten.
“I got the invitation just today,” he said, “Sir Byers is an old friend from Eton -- a baronet with a small estate in Kent. As a sporting holiday, one month from now -- I would be expected to go shooting with the gentleman at least part of the time, but a fortnight away… we could treat it as a honeymoon.”
The thought of the fresh air and quiet of the country sounded heavenly. She smiled warmly at him and lowered her spoon back into her bowl.
“Should I tell him we accept?” Mulder asked.
“Please do,” she said.
Mulder looked as pleased as anything, and went on to tell her about school-related hijinks with much enthusiasm. When the final course of the meal had been taken away by the footmen, he sobered and looked at her earnestly.
“I hope you know how pleased I am that you came into the garden the night of the Halford ball,” he said.
“I hope you know how pleased I am that you decided to kiss me there.” He smiled at her.  “Why were you in the garden that night, Mulder? I never thought to ask.”
“I was hiding.”
“Hiding?!”
He looked chagrined.
“Miss Spender was there,” he said, “at the ball. I had of course already made the decision not to court her, but I didn’t have the heart to tell her. Not in such a public setting, anyway. It would have amounted to giving her the cut direct. I loathe her father, but she’s a young lady who doesn’t deserve that kind of treatment.”
“Or that kind of father.”
“Indeed.”
“Well. I suppose Miss Spender’s loss is my gain.”
“And mine,” he said, and raised his glass to his wife.
XxXxXxXxXxX
“You’ll have to tell me all about it, my lady,” Prudence said, while she affixed a ribbon through Scully’s perfectly coiffed hair. “I’ve heard it’s the most splendid sight imaginable.”
Mulder was taking her to Vauxhall for the evening. Scully had always wanted to go. It was said to be the most spacious pleasure garden in all of England, filled with high hedges and trees, and had gravel-paved walkways and promenades. There were pavilions, lodges, groves, grottoes, lawns, porticoes and rotundas; the whole of it illuminated with an infinite number of lamps in every color. Mulder had reserved them a booth not far from the Royal Box and had promised to waltz with her until she could no longer stand.
She reached her hand up and placed it over Prudence’s.  “I won’t leave out a single detail,” she said.
Prudence smiled at her in the mirror.  “You’ll fit in perfectly,” she said, “no other lady could compare to your beauty tonight.”
“You’re too kind, Prudence. I thank you for all of your help.” She tapped a bit of color into her cheeks and took as deep a breath as her corset would allow. “Is everything packed and ready for tomorrow?”
They would be leaving for Kent in the morning for a fortnight at Ashford Park with Sir Byers and his other guests.
“It is, my lady,” said Prudence, though her face had fallen.
“Prudence,” she said, turning from the mirror to face her maid, “whatever is the matter?”
“I shouldn’t be saying anything, Lady Wexford,” she said. “It isn’t my place.”
“I hope you will anyway,” said Scully gently, trying to catch Prudence’s eye.
“It is Samuel, my lady,” Prudence said, stealing a look at the closed door of the chamber, as if afraid Mr. Bixby or Mrs. Paxton might come barging in, demanding to know why she was speaking to the lady of the house about the workings below stairs.
“The footman?” Scully clarified.
“Yes,” Prudence said, “he was taken ill, not two days ago. Very ill. He may not survive. He had been looking forward to traveling to Kent with you and the Earl. He was honored when Mr. Bixby picked him to accompany you.”
“Oh that is very sad,” Scully said. “Is he being well attended to?”
“Oh yes,” Prudence rushed to assure her, “Lord Wexford insisted upon his own physician being sent below stairs. It sent the scullery maids all in a whirl.”
Scully could sense there was something else Prudence wanted to tell her. She stayed quiet and Prudence went on.
“The footman who was hired to replace Samuel is being sent to Kent instead.”
It seemed as though she were about to go on when there was a knock at the door connecting her and Mulder’s chambers and he stuck his head through the doorway. Prudence nodded at Scully, and curtsied at Mulder.
“Thank you, Prudence,” Mulder said, excusing her, “you have done a fine job. The Countess looks exquisite.”
Prudence smiled and left the room.
“Are you ready?” he asked her.
She stood and turned to him.
He nearly took her breath away. He was wearing a new coat, cut very tight to his figure, the shirt beneath it was white as a cloud and the collar impeccably starched. His cravat was folded with the utmost care and pinned with a large emerald that complimented his eyes, a perfect match to his silk waistcoat. The buckskin trousers he wore clung to him like a second skin and his Hessians had been rubbed to a mirror shine.
“Whatever you are paying your valet, you should double it,” Scully said to him as she took his arm. “If the Prince Regent is at Vauxhall tonight, he’s likely to try to hire him out from under you.”
“It wouldn’t do to let Mr. Valadeo hear you say that,” Mulder said, as he opened the door of her chamber and held it open for her, “it will go straight to his head.”
XxXxXxXxXxX
As Mulder stepped off the boat and onto the island on which the gardens of Vauxhall sat, Scully pulled up short next to him, her mouth agape at the sight before her. There was a grand entrance gate and a long series of stairs that led up to where the gardens really started, though there were colorful lanterns lining the steps and perfectly groomed shrubs running along the rise.
“Come,” he leaned down and whispered in her ear, “there is much to see.”
When they had finally been seated at their reserved booth, Scully finally stopped looking around and said, quite earnestly:
“My apologies, Mulder. I have been struck speechless by the splendor.”
He had been so himself his first time at the gardens when he was but fifteen. He had been held captive by a balloon ascension -- a special event that evening that he had not seen since -- great balls of colorful fabric taking men to the stars.
When the waiter arrived, Mulder ordered champagne, beef, ham and salad, as well as the arrack punch that was so well known in Vauxhall that the mention of it always brought him back to the gardens.
When they had eaten their fill, he rose from the booth and pulled a watch from his pocket.
“Come along,” he said to Scully, “we must hurry or we will miss it.”
“Miss what?” she said, her mouth quirking up into an intrigued smile that sent no small amount of blood rushing below his waist.
When she rose, he noticed the jealous looks of the other gentleman nearby, and could hardly blame them. She was a rare beauty and carried about her both an innocence and an erotogenic mien that confused his senses and assaulted his deep-seated and well-bred commitment to public propriety. In short, he was continually beset by an aching cockstand whenever she was near. It was downright inconvenient.
He walked her as quickly as he could through the gravel lined promenades and turned down a walkway that led into a line of trees. It was darker here and empty of people. Perfect. He found a small bench along the path and sat with her there, leaning back and looking around them in anticipation.
“Mulder what-” she began to say, but he stilled her with a hand to her knee.
“Shh,” he said, and pointed into the trees above them.
Their timing could not have been better.
Suddenly the lamps that were hung from the trees above and around them -- hundreds of them -- thousands -- began to light one by one in every color of the rainbow. She inhaled in surprise.
The lamps were all connected by a series of fuses he knew, but even with that knowledge, it was no less magical. After a moment the quiet of the night resumed but the lights remained, a sparkling wonderland, shining arcs of color throughout the small forest.
Scully stood and walked into the trees a little way, her eyes turned to the lights. He followed her.
“I feel as though Titania and Oberon and their lot will come prancing through at any moment,” she said, her voice almost a whisper, as if she were worried any noise might break the spell of the place.
He moved to stand in front of her and ran his finger from the top of her jaw to her chin, tilting her face up to his for a kiss. He let his lips linger at hers, feeling their connection in the depths of his chest, to his very soul.
“A fairyland fit for a countess,” he whispered.
“I must know how it all works,” she said, “do you suppose they use some sort of timer? Did you know, there is a Chemist by the name of-“
He kissed her again, deeply, keeping his eyes open until he saw her own aquamarine orbs roll back into her head. She ran her fingers up through his hair, pulling him toward her, and all rational thought left him. He kissed her, drinking her in, pulling her body flush against his so that she could feel how much he wanted her. Finally, she pulled back.
“Sea water,” she said.
He looked at her in confusion, his hands still framing her face.
“My father told me that at sea, as thirsty as you may get, drinking sea water will only make you thirstier. Your thirst can never be slaked. Being with you… it’s like drinking sea water. The more I’m with you, the more I want you,” she said. “My thirst for you cannot be quenched.”
His heart clenched just as his groin ached, and he moved her with deliberate slowness backwards until he had her up against a large oak tree. She looked up at him with blind trust.
“And I you,” he said, his voice a low rumble, “I want you even now.”
He leaned down and bit her lightly on the neck, and in answer she moaned quietly. He licked the skin he’d bitten and ran a hand into the front of her gown, pulling her breasts so that they spilled over the top of it.
She had absolutely perfect breasts -- a Renaissance painter could not have improved them. Her nipples were the same pinkish-red as the soft lips of her sex and the mounds themselves, soft handfuls of pure delight. He lowered his mouth to them. They tasted of berries. How on earth was it that they tasted of berries? If he wasn’t inside of her soon, he would burst.
He reached down and unbuttoned the fells of his trousers, freeing himself. She reached out with greedy hands and wrapped one around his shaft, the other going lower until it was gently cradling the soft sac underneath. He groaned into her bosom.
Reaching down, he gathered the skirts of her gown, pulling them up and over her hips, then reached down to find her dewy center, only to encounter more layers of tulle and fluff.
“Blasted petticoats,” he grumbled, and she emitted a delicious peal of laughter that he decided was his duty to elicit from her at every future opportunity. She reached down to help him, and at last he moved his hand over the humid rise of her mons, sliding a finger into her to find her slick as a ripe peach. He could take it no longer. Shaft in one hand, he maneuvered himself to her slippery entrance. With the other he pulled her knee until it was over his hip, and then slid straight home.
They both moaned. He would not last long. Whatever magic was in the air had riled him to a fevered peak. He licked a thumb and reached down to rub it along the swollen nub at the crest of her sex. She panted and grabbed his waistcoat in both hands, grinding her hips into him on a lusty breath.
He felt like a rutting beast surrounded by the cold fresh air of the night, amongst the calls of owls and crickets. He lifted her other leg until he was holding her up completely, her back to the rough bark of the oak, her breasts bouncing above the top of her lavender gown. He would never see a more erotic sight, he was sure of it.
She began a low, long moan in the back of her throat that he was learning meant she was close to reaching her climax and he increased his efforts with his thumb with a renewed vigor. In moments she was coming apart at the seams, going limp in his arms. He pulled her tightly to him and felt his own climax rush upon him, and he locked his knees so as not to drop her, thrusting into her once, twice, then one final time. He held her solidly in his arms but sagged against the tree behind them. After a moment, her legs dropped back to the ground, first one, then the other, and he felt himself slide out of her.
One bracing breath and she pulled herself to her full, if modest height, her skirts falling gracefully back into place. She pulled her gown up over her exposed breasts, reached a hand up to tuck a piece of loose hair expertly back into her coif and gave him a small smile.
“Shall we return to the pavilion?” she said with practiced dignity, “I believe I hear a waltz.”
He was in love. Abject, soul-quaking, irrevocable love.
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Hello! I completely understand why you have both asks and messaging closed and don’t worry, this isn’t a magica question! Well, not specifically a request for my own, but if this does cross the line, you are completely free to delete this! First off, you all write amazing descriptions for the magica and witches!!! They are so vivid and amazing to visualize!!! I followed and put on notifications specifically because it is so exciting to see new posts and soon be able to send my own in time!!! So, somewhat connected to that and the magica question I had, is there specific things that help you in creating them? Like, do you have generators you use for the posts or is there a sort of prompt list thing set up? If possible, I would reccomend making a help post so that others could have help making their own magica, which could also help lighten your load! No matter what you do with my submission, thank you for the inspiration and joy I feel from finding this blog!
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Thank you so much for your kind words!! I’m really happy you’re enjoying our work here. So, this is kind of a hard question to answer, but I’ll do my best. 
To start, there is no generator or anything behind the scenes that you guys don’t see- just the prompts themselves and myself (or mod Kyoko) at the keyboard. I can’t really say how exactly they go about their writing process, but I would imagine it’s probably pretty similar to mine! Everything I write for these prompts pretty much comes from my head- I generally read the prompt over a few times and then let my mind take me wherever it wants to go! There are a few exceptions to this though, so I’ll give you those pointers here. Just know that creating a Magica is such a personal process that everyone’s interpretation of a wish is going to be different! 
Colors- usually these are just whatever comes to mind for me first, though they do occasionally have meaning (particularly in witch forms). These are the easiest intentional choices to notice- gold for riches, black for darker themes, white for purity, blue for serenity or altruism, etc. Sometimes though colors are picked more for their thematic appeal or just because they feel right. 
Weapons/abilities- Another “whatever comes to mind UNLESS” kind of category. Often times a weapon or ability will jump out at me for an individual- you see a lot of swords because I have a lot of graceful or knightly magica, though the type of sword is always deliberate. But my biggest advice there is to not get caught up on typical weapons! I don’t do them very often (only when I really think it fits the prompt) but I will occasionally use a really fantastical weapon in a prompt, like the pill bombs or a shovel. The best advice I can give here is to go with what feels right and don’t be afraid to get a little wild! Abilities work the same way- they should generally complement the weapon chosen as well as the thematic elements of the magia you’re creating. A gentle, dreamy magia may float, while an aggressive one is super fast, and a darker one may pass through the shadows particularly well. Definitely feel free to get creative with these too, because they really can be just about anything. Just be careful not to go too powerful- the nature of magia is that they will inevitably fall, and you want that to feel as organic as possible! 
Soul gem placement- this is ALWAYS intentional (except in the few prompts where I forget to write it in…)! This I do based on where I think the wish came from in terms of its motivation. Logical wishes come from the head, compassionate ones come from the chest, self-driven ones come from the belly, and action-driven wishes come from the hands! There are of course exceptions that lead me to put them in other places (strength can be shoulder, and escape can be ankles, etc) but most of them fall into one of those categories! The shape is usually thematic or vibe-based by the way. Dreamy ons are moons, love ones are hearts, and so on. Just pick what feels right to you! (noticing a theme yet?)
Witch names- Another one that ALWAYS has meaning. I’ve joked here before about the number of diaper ads I get because of this blog, but I mean it when I say that baby name pages are your best friend! If you look them up, every name I use has a meaning that is relevant to the magia or witch’s nature. Names are the easiest way to inject meaning, so don’t miss out on the opportunity! If you want to stay really canon-compliant, stick to German names! I usually try to at least stay European, but I’ve written so many at this point that I’d start repeating certain names if I didn’t branch out a little. 
Witch natures- like names, they’re always relevant to the wish in question, or particularly, how I turned them on their heads. By the way, the best way to go about making your character fall is to directly create a consequence of their wish (a theme you will notice in most prompts). Barring that, make it a downfall of your character’s personality if turning a wish against them is impossible or just crosses a line (I had a trans girl wish to have been born female once and turning that on her would have been incredibly cruel). If you’re really stuck, have them overexert themself in battle and fall that way. Anyways, the nature will usually have to do with the wish or how they fell into despair, like one who was betrayed by a friend might have a witch whose nature was suspicious or hesitant. 
Witch labyrinths and minions- My best advice here is to just go ham! Take the themes you established with the magia and dial it up to an 11. This is also a prime opportunity to use color symbolism or even look up classic symbols for certain things to incorporate. I use a TON of floral symbolism in mine, especially in older prompts, and usually if any animals are present it’s also intentional. Now is also the time to introduce references to the magia’s backstory and personality. If their hobby was art, work that in somehow! Did they have a love of fairy tales? Throw in a reference to a classic story! Did your magia feel like they were robbed of their childhood? Discarded plushies and toys are a cool way to make reference to them. Even how dark/bright or dingy/clean the labyrinth appears can represent something! Just write what feels correct and don’t be afraid to get super in depth with it. 
The Witch- Basically the same process as above. Think of the themes, and represent them how you want! From there, really try to picture how the witch would move and how it would attack. From there you can decide how it is best to fight the witch! A plant based witch may have quick, thorny tendrils whereas a technology witch may be bright and disorientating. I also recommend basing how powerful the witch is based on the magia themself. A really powerful wish might make an intimidating witch, whereas a timid or passive magia may become a relatively harmless witch. Two-stage witches are also cool but definitely call for a the right kind of prompt. Usually I only make that kind of witch when a prompt deals with themes of rage, deception, or a sense of underestimation. Witches are really complex, so make sure to spend a good amount of time thinking them through! 
Wow, that was… a lot more than I planned to write! So yeah, everything about my process 100% came from my own brain and years of experience doing this kind of thing! As such, every person who writes is going to create something that is truly their own, which I think is half the fun of it, really. I sincerely hope this helps and was what you were looking for! I can’t wait to create even more magia and wishes for you all to enjoy. Much love!
-Mod Mami ✏️  
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mrsalwayswrite · 3 years
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Anchor in the Waves- Chapter 2
I am so sorry its taken so long to get this chapter out...its been one of those weeks. Anyway, here it is! Yay!
Quick reminders: Osbert = Uhtred. Islond=Iceland. Irland=Ireland // all translations are via google and in italics. 
This chapter is emotional. Most of the warnings pertain to this chapter. Again, nothing is graphic but implied. Still heavy stuff though. I promise after this it gets better. 
Tag List: @happyveday​ @evelynshelby​
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"What's it like? Islond?" Halig asked, huddled against Osbert. 
 "If hell froze over...that is Islond." Finan replied from Osbert's other side, arms tucked inside of his tunic.  
 Hakka had announced earlier that the trading season was done. Tomorrow they would start the voyage back to Islond. The slaves were to enjoy a few hours rest before back on the oars. They had been tossed stale loaves of bread to share, the thick taste of salt coating the bread from the sea spray. 
 Finan, Osbert and Halig huddled together, not quite shivering but perpetually cold. The manacle around their ankles seemed to absorb the cold and inject it straight into their bodies. 
 "We'll be on land though." 
 Finan did not reply to Halig's comment. Yes, they would be on land, the oars no longer feeling like an unwanted extension of their person; but they would still be barely fed and forced to endure the brutal cold of winter without respite. 
 Yet with the thought of their return to Islond she came to mind. 
 Aine. 
 Was she alive? Would she remember him? Would she care for him once again?
 There were many times he found his mind wandering to her over the past several months, worried for her. In his darkest hours, he would conjure up her face, reveling in the brief flash of warmth it brought with it. Her brown hair in a braid over her shoulder, several strands loose around her face. Her slightly pointed chin and the dimple in it. Eyes the color of bronze. The small birthmark on her cheekbone. Those gentle, calloused hands that held his like a lifeline, both providing and seeking comfort. 
 "A stòr." He whispered into the wind. Was it a call to let her know he was coming? A hope that she had not given up on him? A reminder of what had passed between them? He did not know. In his soul, it just felt right. (My treasure.)
 *****
 She almost dropped the blankets in her arms when she saw him. 
 All the ship slaves looked awful, like they had been dragged across the sea floor then pulled ashore and forced to remember how to walk. They were almost indistinguishable with their long, matted hair and beards, bowed backs, threadbare clothes and general air of defeat. 
 She stood to the side of the main hall, having run from gathering the blankets off the drying line to be able to watch their approach. 
 To see if he returned. 
 "Aine!" Master Sverri called, walking towards her. His thumbs were tucked into the band around his waist, his strut like a conquering hero returning home. Yet he was no hero. "Come to greet us?"
 "Welcome home, Master." She answered demurely, dropping her gaze to his boots. It startled her that he called her by name. He had always called her ‘girl’ or ‘slave’ before. She tried not to think too hard about the implications of him remembering her name and using it.  
 He tipped her chin up, forcing her eyes to meet his. His sharp eyes bore into her, seeking something in her face, before releasing her with a grunt as he walked past. She was unsure what that look meant...but it made her uncomfortable.  
 As she looked once again at the slaves, one was staring at her. Soft, brown eyes met hers. She would know those eyes anywhere. 
 Finan. 
 Unconsciously, her eyes widened and tears threatened to fall. The shock of seeing him again rooted her to where she stood lest she collapse. He was alive...but appeared even more haggard and frail compared to last she saw him. He cradled one of his hands against his chest, staring at her until he was shoved by one of the Danes into the barn. She remained frozen, watching as all the ship slaves were marched to the barns and separated. 
 The one thought repeated in her mind endlessly- he was alive. 
 For how much longer though?
 The returned Danes would celebrate voraciously tonight, happy to be home. Ale would flow freely and most would be passed out before the moon was at its zenith. She should be able to sneak away without notice. She had too. 
 Quickly, she turned and headed back inside the main hall, back to her duties before the Master's wife could yell at her for being lazy. 
 The night could not come soon enough. 
 *****
 "Finan?"
 He jerked at his name, the sound just barely slipping through the slats of the barn. It had taken some manipulation to make sure that he ended up back in the same pen he had occupied prior. A small smile crossed his lips when he noticed the hole he had made was still there. "Aine?"
 Sticking his hand through the opening, warmth immediately surrounded his hand as she clutched it with both of hers. 
 “Conaíonn tú.” She murmured. (You live.)
 “Mar a dhéanann tú.” (As do you.) 
 He pressed his forehead to the slats and felt her reciprocate the action. That simple touch, the simple connection brought tears to his eyes. It would never eclipse the beatings, starvation and despair but it helped lessen it. He had missed her. 
 Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Osbert watching him curiously, everyone else asleep by this point. He trusted Osbert not to say anything to their captors. 
 They stayed that way for several minutes. Everything Finan could think of to say to her, to acknowledge or ask...once it hit his tongue died. So, he kept his lips closed and just breathed in her gentle presence, a balm to his dispirited soul.  
 He remembered that last time he had thought she was beautiful. When he saw her after getting off the ship this time, it felt like something had changed. When he looked up and saw her standing by the main hall, a pile of blankets in her arms, he realized he had been wrong. She was radiant.  
 “Ní féidir liom fanacht.” (I cannot stay.)
 “Tuigim. Táim… tá áthas orm go bhfuil tú ceart go leor.” (I understand. I am… I am glad you are alright.)
 “Seo.” She pushed something into his hand then released it. (Here.)
 “Go raibh maith agat.” (Thank you.)
 He heard her footsteps as she walked away quickly. Pulling his hand back, he noticed it was half a loaf of bread. Far more than she had ever given him before. Without a word, he tore it into three parts and tossed two of them to Osbert. The man caught them, having been watching him, and quietly nudged Halig to wake him. 
 As they ate silently, Finan's thoughts were disturbed by Osbert's whisper. 
 "Who is she?"
 Finan thought about his answer, munching on the fresh bread. Something he had not tasted in almost two years. "Aine." He finally replied. "When I was here last...she saved me."
 *****
 Over the next couple of weeks, Aine tried to visit Finan every few days. She wished she could go every night, not just to see him with her own eyes and feel his hand in hers; at least then she knew he was getting food when she visited. After the third visit, he had mentioned about two others he had come to know. If it was his intention to mention others to receive more food, she did not mind. She tried to bring a little extra with her, sometimes forgoing her own lunch and dinner to have extra to bring. She was too scared to steal more from the kitchens and get caught. 
 It was also during this time that Master Sverri's attentions to her became more obvious. 
 *****
 "The deep cold will start tonight." Gunnhild, the Master's wife, said flatly. She sat mending by the fire in the main hall, an interesting sight since her hands were the size of ham hocks. Everyone else had returned to their homes by this point, leaving only the Master, his wife and the house slaves. 
 "Yes." Master Sverri listlessly said, staring at the flames with a mug of ale in hand. 
 She snorted, rolling her eyes. "Unless you want your slaves to freeze to death, they will need blankets. By the gods, you do this every year!"
 "They are slaves."
 "THEY ARE EXPENSIVE!" She sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. "This was not a good year for us. Not enough trade. We need to keep them alive."
 He swirled the ale in his mug for a long moment before nodding solely. "You are right."
 "Aine," Gunnhild called loudly, "you and Alva take blankets to the ship slaves."
 "Yes, Mistress." Aine stood up from further down the main hall, where she had been scrubbing the dried, sticky ale off the tables. It had been another rambunctious night of drinking for the Danes. After everyone left, the Mistress suddenly decided the sticky residue needed to be removed. "Would ya prefer me to finish my task first?"
 "No, it'll be here when you return. Go."
 Leaving everything behind, she headed to the kitchen to inform Alva, the middle-aged cook, their task. They gathered the spare blankets, kept separate for the ship slaves and headed out to the barns. Aine announced she would take the barn with the pigs. If Alva had any suspicions, it was not noticeable. On the contrary, she thanked Aine since she needed to return to the kitchen quickly to prepare the porridge for the morning and the barn with the horses was closer to the main hall.  
 Without a word, Aine tossed half of the blankets in the first pen. The sounds of the men scurrying and arguing over the blankets followed her as she moved on. It was the second pen that she cared about more. 
 There were five slaves in the second pen, including Finan. As she approached, the men watched her warily. It was when she tossed the couple blankets in, did they finally move. It was the one with piercing blue eyes that took charge and passed the blankets out, giving her a brief nod after as he huddled under one with a smaller man on one side and Finan on the other. 
 "Thank ya." 
 She directed a small smile at Finan, her eyes meeting his own. This was the first time they were face to face without slats separating them. She opened her mouth to say something but the scraping sound of the barn door opening stopped her. With a backward glance, she froze. 
 Master Sverri closed the barn door behind him. In the darkness it was hard to decipher his features, but something about the way he was standing there peering at her made her skin crawl. 
 Subconsciously, she stepped back. 
 If he noticed her movement, he gave no indication as he slowly approached, hands clasped behind his back. His eyes never drifted away from her body, eyeing her hungrily. "Are the blankets distributed?" 
 "Yes, Master."
 "Good." He drew closer until he stood in front of her, hovering over her. Meanwhile he ignored the slaves in the pens as if they were furniture. "Was there another task that required you, Aine?"
 It was not until hearing him say her name now, that Danish growl butchering the pronunciation, that she realized how much she desired hearing Finan say her name. When he said it, his Irish accent grew. When he said it, it sounded like home. 
 "Just finishin' cleanin' the tables."
 "Mmm...I have need of you first." It was the way he said it, his hand brushing her hair out of her face, the closeness of his body. She knew what was to come. Alva warned her only a few days ago what his attention would mean. 
 "Come." He commanded, turning back towards the barn door.  
 What else could she do? Bowing her head, she started to follow. Not before she snuck a glance at Finan. Even in the darkness, she could read the horror and rage on his face. He hastily shoved the blanket off him, starting to rise. Immediately she shook her head, hoping he could see it in the gloom. They were slaves. Their thoughts and feelings were nothing. Their bodies and pain were nothing. They were nothing. 
 She thought she heard Finan quietly call out her name but it did not matter. She kept moving. 
 After Master Sverri finished with her that night, she sat outside and gazed at the stars above, tears slipping down her cheeks undisturbed. Was it worth even wishing for freedom anymore? Was this all fate had planned for her?
 *****
 "Aine…"
 “Níl, ná habair é.” She silenced him by interrupting, clutching his hand just a little tighter. He was unsure if he could hear a tremble in her voice or if it was just the cold. “I ... tá sé rud ar bith. Mhair tú i bhfad níos measa ná mise.” (No, do not say it. // I...it is nothing. You have survived far worse than me.)
 “Ní comórtas é.” (It is not a competition.)
 A small bark of laughter slipped out of her mouth, but it sounded harsh and cruel. Finan wished there was something, anything he could do to protect her. He would easily accept a beating or whipping to save her from whatever fate was giving her. Yet there was nothing he could do. He was imprisoned, too weak to fight in her stead, he doubted he had the strength to hold up a sword and swing it, let alone fight with it. 
 He wanted to ask about the other night, when Master Sverri followed her to the barn. He wanted...no, needed to know if that bastard touched her. She must have anticipated his question and shut it down before he even placed the words on his tongue to say. That night he had sat awake the whole time. Fury, vengeance, fear and despair took turns beating at his mind. He wanted nothing more than to escape the pen and throttle Master Sverri before he could lay a hand on her. Save her from whatever cruelty played out in the Dane’s mind as he stood there in the gloom of the barn, leering at her like a predator and she an innocent lamb. As Finan started to rise, flaming anger fueling his movements, Osbert grabbed his arm and forced him to stay still. The rest of the night and the next two were torturous. Rage rose up within him whenever he saw Master Sverri walking around the village, enough to make his veins almost boil with his desire to slowly kill the Dane. What was worse though, was the rage at himself for his inability to do anything. 
 Finan squeezed her hand, his breath visible from the cold. “Geallaim lá amháin saorfaidh mé thú.” (I promise one day I will free you.)
 “Finan, le do thoil ... ná tabhair gealltanais mar sin le do thoil.” (Finan, please do not... please do not make promises like that.)
 “Ná tabhair suas, a stór, ná déan! Éalóimid, agus tiocfaidh mé ar ais agus saorfaidh mé thú. Tugaim faoi deara é. An gcreideann tú mé? Abair amach é.” (Do not give up, my treasure, do not! We will escape, and I will come back and free you. I swear it. Do you believe me? Say it.)
 “Creidim thú.” (I believe you.) She barely whispered; voice tight with emotion.
 He rubbed his thumb on the back of her hand, her hand still trembling, much like his own. Her face was turned down, staring at their hands as if ashamed to meet his eyes. He wished he could comfort her further somehow, wrap his arms around her and hide her away from the world. 
 Suddenly the sound of the dogs barking made them both jump. 
 "Téigh!" He said, worried someone would find her. It was truly a miracle she had been able to seek him out like she had been without anyone the wiser. (Go!)
 Without a word, she dropped his hand and ran, having already given him the hard biscuits. 
 Once he no longer heard her footsteps or any screams to signal she had been caught, he relaxed against the side of the barn, tucking the blanket closer around his person that he shared with Osbert and Halig. 
 He turned his head to look at the man sitting next to him. His blue eyes met Finan's brown in the darkness of the barn. Keeping his voice low, he spoke, a determination coursing through his veins. "What is the plan ya mentioned earlier?"
 Osbert smiled wickedly. 
 *****
 Finan could see the slavers gaining ground on them. The dogs barked loudly at catching sight of their prey just up ahead. The sand and rocks under his feet made footing treacherous. His legs wobbled beneath him like a newborn foal’s. Osbert already fell once. He was not even sure how Halig was still running, although his strength was obviously failing. 
 But they had to keep going. Their freedom laid before them just up ahead. 
 A bastard boat. 
 He grabbed the end, pulling with what little strength he had left to get it into the water. The weight threatened to be too much for his weakened body...but he kept pulling. This was their one chance. There would not be another. They must make it.
 Then Halig collapsed on the rocky shore. Osbert tried to drag him along, crying how he would not leave him behind, but both barely moved. 
 It was then, before the Danes even seized them, Finan knew they failed. 
 The small waves slammed against the back of his legs, spraying water across his body. For a second, he wondered if it would be better for him to run into the sea and not turn back. His body was bound to be cast into its depths anyway, either by his choice or the slavers tossing his corpse overboard when his body finally gave out. 
 He looked over at Osbert, meeting his distraught gaze. A thousand words passed unspoken between them. At that moment, he knew abandoning his friend was not an option. 
 The Danes returned the three of them, bound and chained, back to the village. Seven others waited, having been captured already. They sat, all bound together in the middle of the village. All day and night they remained, exposed to the elements and the occasional beating from the slavers. During this time they went without food or water as the Danes sought out the other escaped slaves. 
 By the end of the next day, all but two slaves were found. 
 Master Sverri glared at them from the front steps of the main hall, arms crossed over his chest. "We leave in one week!" He announced, then looked to his men, standing around the slaves. "Whip them...but not that one." He pointed a stubby finger at Halig, the pain from his wounds evident on the slave’s ashen face. "He watches for now. His punishment will come later." 
 That night, Finan finally asked the question that had been brewing in his mind like a bad storm. "Who are ya really?" He demanded, his voice low so the others would not overhear, even if they appeared to be asleep. 
 More than once he overheard Halig call Osbert “lord” and how Osbert made reference to their fighting together. There was an authority that Osbert bore on his shoulders, invisible but when he spoke, it came with the sound of one used to orders listened to. 
 Osbert sighed, glancing around the pen they were back in. "No one."
 "I know that's a filthy lie."
 "It's a long story."
 "I'm no goin' anywhere." Finan shrugged then winced as the torn muscles on his back from the whipping stretched. 
 He nodded, closing his eyes for a moment before groaning and turning to face Finan completely. Even in the gloom of the barn, his blue eyes shone with passion. His voice changed from a quiet resignation to one of determination. "My name is Uhtred son of Uhtred, Lord of Bebbanburg..."
 *****
 In three days, the ship would set sail. Away from Islond. Away from her. Away into the unknown future and turbulent seas. Aine visited Finan two days before, giving what food she could to him. Normally, she tried not to visit him so soon for fear of being caught. Now though, she wanted to give him what nourishment she could before he was gone. She also brought more cloths for him to wrap around his palms, along with some extra for the others. 
 He firmly gripped her hand. She was unsure if it was his hand or hers that trembled. Tears formed but she restrained them through sheer will. For some reason, this time, this goodbye felt final. Neither spoke it but both acknowledged it. She should have walked away some time ago, yet her legs refused to move, his hand clasped between hers just as tightly. 
 “Fan láidir, Aine.” (Stay strong, Aine.)
 All she could only nod. Her soul was being chipped away little by little and now with Finan's upcoming departure, she doubted she would survive. 
 Especially if Master Sverri came back and Finan did not. 
 There were so many things she wanted to tell him but never did. Due to her own cowardness or time constraint, it mattered little now. It was still left unspoken. There was a bond between them, something she would always be grateful for. He was her strength when she felt unable to rise up again, her joy when he teased her and made her smile as something she never did otherwise, he was her sanctuary where she could hide away from the world. How could she tell him all this though? How could she convey her deep need for him to steady her as the rock he was in her life? 
 “Aine? Cad é sin?” (Aine? What is it?)
 Her fluctuating emotions must have shown on her face enough for him to see it in the moonlight. She sighed, leaning over to press a kiss to the back of his hand. Something they had never done. His sharp inhale of breath worried her for a brief moment. Then he leaned his forehead against the slats, tugging her hand gently until she reciprocated the action. 
 “Tá rud éigin le rá agam…” He breathed out. (There is something I need to say…) 
 Oh, what she would give for these slats to be gone, for them to be free, to embrace him uninhibited like she wanted to. She squeezed his hand to let him know she was listening. Slowly he exhaled, as if that would help align the words on his tongue. The thought made her smile softly. 
 "Hey! You!" 
 Aine looked over and saw a figure standing still, having just come around the side of the barn. With a torch in hand, he was unable to distinguish her in the darkness. But she could see who it was. Terror flooded her veins with a vengeance. Her worst nightmare came to pass.  
 “RITH!” (RUN!) 
 Aine obeyed Finan's order without a second thought, darting away, hoping to lose her pursuer amidst the buildings as she weaved around them. Hard footfalls from behind crept closer and closer. She put everything she had into getting away and hiding. The figure could not have seen her face. He would not have known what she was doing. She just had to find somewhere to hide and wait him out.  She just had to make it there. 
 Something slammed into her the back, making her stumble and lose her footing. Ungraciously, she fell face first.
 She gasped; the impact having chased the air from her lungs. Tears welled in her eyes. Her hands dug into the firm earth beneath her. No…. no... no... please not this. 
 "What do we have here?" A rough hand flipped her over, forcing her to stare into the face of Hakka. "What were you doing, whore?"
 Tears streamed down her face. There was nothing she could do now, nowhere to hide. This was it.  
 "Let's go ask Master Sverri, mmm?" He grabbed a fistful of her hair and started dragging her towards the main hall. 
 Minutes later she found herself on her knees before the Master, who had been roused from sleep. His tunic and leggings were rumpled from the bed. Only socks clad his feet, not even sparing the time to put his boots on with Hakka's yelling. 
 "What were you doing, Aine?" The Master asked softly, an almost begging unbelief in his tone. As if he could not fathom she would disobey him. 
 Her eyes remained on the floor, hands clasped in her lap. It was no use answering. She suddenly felt exhausted, so much so to not even try and create an excuse for her actions. All she wanted to do was curl up in a ball and hide from everything until her body rejoined the ground. She was so tired.  
 "Look at me." He cupped her chin gently, forcing her eyes to his. 
 Unable to stop herself, she flinched. Though he never beat her, she loathed his touch. Every time his fingers grazed her skin or hair, every time he had "need" of her, every time his eyes tracked her across the room...she hated everything about him. 
 "There is a small opening, broken slat towards the back of the pig barn where the slaves stay. She was kneeling in front of there." Hakka explained, hand on the axe head strapped to his side. "It was a good size to pass something through."
 Master Sverri stared at her, hand still cupping her chin. “Were you giving the slaves something?"
 She bit her bottom lip, tasting her own blood in her mouth. 
 "ANSWER ME!!" He suddenly roared in her face, his hand on her face now gripped it painfully. 
 Then the voice of Gunnhild came from the side of the room, wrapped in a cloak and hair messy from being roused unceremoniously. "Alva informed me she has noticed Aine does not always eat her meals but saves them, stuffing the food into a pouch or wrapping and saving it."
 "Have you been feeding the slaves?" Master Sverri asked. He stared at her with wide, unbelieving eyes. When she did not answer, that surprise turned to rage. He backhanded her, sending her sprawling to the ground. More blood filled her mouth but she remained silent. He rounded on Hakka. "Take her to the pit."
 "What will you do with her?" Gunnhild stared down her nose at the slave girl that had been a gift. "I do not want her anymore."
 "I will take care of her." Her husband stated, fists clenched by his sides. 
 Hakka grabbed one of her arms and dragged her out of the room. The angle he pulled on, she feared he would dislocate or break her arm. She tugged, trying to loosen or change his grip on her. A whimper escaped her as he yanked purposefully with a dark chuckle. 
 It was when she could see where he was taking her that she began to fight back, albeit weakly. She kicked and swung at him. Anything to stop their advancement. Anything to not be put in there. 
 He laughed, easily manhandling her. "You'll beg for death soon enough." He whispered into her ear as he immobilized her against his body. "Sverri will not forgive this, nor show mercy. Maybe he will finally let us all take our turn with you."
 That thought terrified her. She whipped her head back, feeling it slam against his face with a crack. 
 "Stupid whore!" He yelled, throwing her to the ground. Before she could move to escape, he stood over her, blood dripping from his nose. A snarl on his face, he pulled his arm back and punched the side of her head. 
 Darkness surrounded her. 
 *****
 The shackle on his ankle burned. The hard bench under his arse and the high wall of the slave ship made him feel like he was looking out of his own grave. The smell of the ocean nauseated him already. 
 The Danes were securing the last of the slaves to their posts on the ship and bringing the remaining supplies aboard. 
 Fresh pain radiated across his back when he moved his shoulders. However foolhardy it was, he fought back against the Danes when they dragged the slaves towards the ship. A strong rod across his back repeatedly forced his submission. 
 Now he sat here waiting…waiting to row...waiting for his probable death. 
 Even sitting with his back facing him, Finan could see Uhtred's resolve slowly beginning to slip away after their failed escape attempt. Uhtred tried his best to hide it though, especially in front of Halig. The smaller man had been in visible pain since their escape attempt, his arrow wounds untended. The Danes had not seen fit to provide any medical attention, just threw him in the pen with the others. 
 A disturbance at the front of the ship caught Finan's attention. Walking up the gangplank was Master Sverri, his hand firmly grasping a handful of Aine's hair and forcing her to walk before him. 
 A punch to the gut, a whipping, being tossed overboard...anything would have been less expected than this. 
 Finan had not seen her for three days, not since she had last given him food then run off when someone noticed her. What worried him the most, he had not even seen her around the village doing her daily chores. During the following days, his mind conjured more and more horrific scenarios of what happened to her. He knew whatever it was, he was responsible. Without him, she would have been safe back in the main hall, in her bed, not outside the barn trying to sneak him food. It was his fault. He should have told her to stay away, to not worry about him. 
 The prospect of food and a gentle touch had been too strong, his weakened mind and body unable to resist. 
 It was his fault. 
 Now seeing her, his heart plummeted in his chest. She looked far worse than any other time he had seen her. Her dress was torn and dirty, as if she had been dragged out of a hole in the ground. Dried tear tracks stood out against the grime covering her face, the only spots semi-clean. From this distance he was unsure if it was dirt or dried blood that matted her hair on one side of her head. She stumbled up the gangplank, legs shaking. 
 What had he done? Finan promised...he promised to set her free. Not this. Never this. 
 Without a word, Master Sverri shoved her towards the front of the ship. There Finan could no longer see her. He was not sure if that was better or worse. 
 "IT WOULD APPEAR YOU DOGS NEED A REMINDER OF YOUR PLACE!" Hakka shouted at them, pacing the middle of the ship. He pointed at Halig, a sadistic smile on his face. "Grab him."
 Two of the other Danes, forcibly removed Halig from his shackle. Uhtred screamed, trying to fight the Danes but they only beat him back. Finan eventually grabbed Uhtred, holding him firmly while he screamed to let Halig go, begging to take Halig's place. Those screams fell on deaf ears, only increasing the taunts and laughter from the Danes dragging Halig away.
 "TIE HIM TO THE BOW, LET THE SEA KILL HIM!" Hakka cried out, watching the two Danes drag the injured slave towards the front of the ship. "LET THIS BE A LESSON TO YOU ALL!" 
 "NO!!!" Uhtred wailed. His words and screams almost unintelligible as they weaved together into an almost animalistic cry. His body shook violently, nails digging into Finan's arms, the only things keeping him rooted to his spot. 
 Glancing up above, Finan could see Master Sverri watching Uhtred with a smirk. He suddenly remembered when him and the other slaves were beaten after their failed escape...all but Halig. Master Sverri had said his punishment would come later...the bastard had been planning this. 
 Somehow, Finan promised himself, he would kill that devil.
 Right now, he just held a trembling Uhtred. He could feel his own anger and horror rising but he suppressed them. The care Uhtred had given his friend was obvious and this...Finan worried it would break him even more than the oars and the beatings. Being forced to listen to his friend's cries as the sea slowly drown him, it was enough to destroy any sane man. 
 Then the order came to start rowing. 
 "Uhtred, ya must." Finan whispered, when his friend refused to move. "That bastard is watchin' and I don't think he means to kill ya. He'd have done so."
 "Halig…" He whimpered.
 "He's a dead man walkin'. There's nothin' we can do for him now." 
The Irishman tried to console but noticed his own hands were shaking. How do you prepare yourself to listen to the slow death of a friend? You cannot. He wondered if this moment would haunt the rest of his life. 
 As if in a daze, Uhtred slowly moved back into his seat and grasped the oar. His silent sobs made his shoulder quiver. 
 Not even a few minutes later, Master Sverri came over to crouch above Uhtred. "The only reason you are not dead is because I am curious as to who you are."
 "PULL!" 
 "PULL!"
 "PULL AND GIVE HIM THE PEACE OF DEATH!" 
 It was once the distant sounds of Halig's cries finally faded that Master Sverri walked away. 
 Watching everything as he pulled his own oar, Finan wondered if it would be the oar and seas that killed him and Uhtred or their despair. His ears felt as if they were bleeding while hearing Halig slowly die. Yet it was the following silence that was even worse. Tears slipped down his own cheeks, catching in his beard. What life was this to continue living? 
 A sharp, distinctly feminine cry from the front reminded him that Aine was still aboard. 
 Rage filled him, overpowering his despair. It strengthened his body, sharpening his mind. He could not give in to death now. Quickly, he wiped away the tears with the back of his hand. The despair and pain he shoved into the furthest recesses of his mind. Somehow, he had a promise to fulfill. To save a life and take another. 
 "Do not give up yet." He said aloud, both for himself and Uhtred. "Do not give up."
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Okay! Here it is the fanfic some of you have been requesting!
Enjoy it!
"Nico!" Will called to his boyfriend. "Put that sweater on right now! You know you want to!" He starts running after Nico with said sweater in hand. He knows his boyfriend wants to wear it, but the goth message is too strong.
Nico is being chased all over their apartment in New Rome by his overly energetic boyfriend who wants to match for their first Christmas on their own. He would have put the sweater on by himself, but it was too ugly to be seen on anyone. Even Hephaestus and the guy was ugly!
Will stopped all of a sudden and stared at the sweater in his hand. "Nico, it's not that bad! Please wear it! For me!"
Oh no Nico thought as he watched his boyfriend turn on that Southern charm and the puppy dog eyes. He tried to look away, but found he couldn't because Will was advancing slowly towards him.
"William," Nico says slowly edging towards the front door of their one bedroom apartment. "Be reasonable, would you want your dad, the fashion guru of Greek mythology to see me in that?!" The horror is present in his tone. "First off, I would not wear it and you know I would wear almost anything to please you. I draw the line at that thing!"
This gives Will a pause as he considers the question. He stares at the jingle bells stripes and Christmas tree underneath them. The green and gold don't work out and the red of the presents aren't helping the poor sweater's case. He thinks back to the time his dad yelled at him for wearing sandals with socks because he was in a rush after being late for cabin clean up duty. He shudders. He does not want a repeat of his over dramatic father flapping his arms while lecturing him on fashion choices.
Will sighs. "Alright Nico. You win this one. My dad's fashion lectures aren't for the faint of heart and I've had enough of them to last a lifetime. But please dress in green or red okay? You would look really good in emerald green." He starts walking to their room.
Nico grins to himself. He's won this round with his mad reasoning skills. Then again, he almost always wins his arguments with Will. Decades in the Lotus Casino arguing over games will do that to you. Then he registers what his boyfriend requested of him.
He starts to run after Will. "Will! I don't have emerald clothing! I have brown, black, and grey! What are you talking about?! William! Get over here!"
Will cackles to himself while going through their closet. He bought his boyfriend colored clothes for occasions with his father and Nico looks delicious in cool, dark times so that's what he bought. He was lucky he hid them on his side of the closet. He turns to see his boyfriend glaring at him.
Nico stares at his poor boyfriend he only knows wants to help him make an impression on Hades. It was only supposed to be the two of them and Hades and Persephone, but of course Apollo had to invite himself. Rolling his eyes at the memory he turns back to Will with his hands on his hips glare still in full force.
With a pleading look on his face, Will is desperate. They're running late and he doesn't want to leave the three gods alone more than they have to be. "Nico," cue the sigh. "We're already running late and I don't want to find a war going on with your stepmom in the middle. She's scary."
"Will… Fine!" Nico says throwing his hands up and walking to grab the shirt from his boyfriend who is now grinning broadly. He walks to the bathroom and changes into the shirt grumbling about Will and if he didn't live him he wouldn't do this.
Meanwhile Will is getting dressed in a dark maroon, fluffly long sleeve sweater and dark blue jeans with black vans. When Nico comes back from the bathroom his heart stops.
His boyfriend stands slightly slouched, uncomfortable with the attention. The emerald shirt sets off his long lashes, dark eyes, and raven hair perfectly. Will wants to swoon, but they have business to attend to.
"Good you're ready to go. Hades confirmed he's ready for us?" Will says coming next to Nico.
In response Nico nods and they head out the door. "Just so you know," Nico says with an undertone. "I'm only wearing this shirt and making nice with your dad because your mom loves me so now I need to win over your dad."
Will doesn't tell Nico his dad was won over the minute Nicon said hello, I'm only here because Will made me. Maybe he might actually behave. One can hope.
They head to the car deep in each of their thoughts. Nico is worried how long his dad is going to last in Apollo's presence. Will is worried how long Hades can stand to be in his dad's presence because Apollo is overbearing.
They have agreed to meet in the Underworld and Zeus has given Apollo permission to head down there to celebrate with them. As Will starts to drive south, the air in the car turns warmer. They banter and whine about the music choice. Nico wants Green Day and Will wants to listen to Blake Shelton.
They left around eleven in the morning on Christmas Day and it takes them about seven hours to get to Hollywood because of traffic in the LA area. They park the car and walk behind the Hollywood sign, Will grabbing Nico's leather jacket in the way behind the sign because even with a sweater on the Underworld is a child, unforgiving place. There Will grabs onto Nico and they shadow travel down to Hades' living room.
Nico wonders why they couldn't shadow travel in the first place and why Will insisted they drive when they walk in and he immediately knows why.
Persephone is standing by the wall her hands over her head while her husband and cousin are going at it.
"This is my domain Apollo you do not have the authority to say what's going to be served for dinner. I can do that on my own."
"But Uncle, you're serving turkey! It's supposed to be ham! Most mortals use ham!" Turning to his son he implores him. "Will tell Hades most mortals use ham for their Christmas dinner!"
Will is torn between getting the approval of his boyfriend's father and his dad. He ultimately goes for the one that will save his life. "Dad, many mortals celebrate Christmas differently or not at all. If Nico's dad wants to serve turkey then let him serve turkey! We are here as his guests and I expect you to behave!"
Apollo looks torn but nods and says "Will, I know you want to make a good impression on Uncle over there, but I am your father!"
"No dad. Mom raised me to have manners and her manners have taught me to accept all food unless I am allergic to it and I have no food allergies. Now sit down and we can eat." Will turns to Lord Hades. "Please excuse my father Lord Hades. I had a talk about this with him earlier, but it seems to have not rectified in his brain."
Hades nods and strides over to Nico. "Nico. Thank you for coming. I am starting to warm up to the boy, but I still need time."
Nico sighs his left hand clenching in a fist involuntarily. "Father you have been given years to accept Will. And it seems you have, but you don't want me to know. Father, the spirits talk."
Hades looks shocked and now angry. "Now listen here Nico. I may have approved of him, but he must be worthy of Maria DiAngelo's child. Bianca wishes she were here, but she is having fun in the fields of Elysium."
Meanwhile Will and Apollo are having their own discussion.
"But Will, Uncle said he didn't mind me coming!"
"Dad, you invited yourself here, remember? I know what mom saw in you, but really. Your manners need brushing up. For real. Just because Lord Hades is your uncle doesn't mean you can barge into his domain even with Lord Hades permission." Will feels like a dad reprimanding a child.
"William," Apollo strikes a pose. "I am the god of music and medicine. This is a celebration with my son and son in law. I had to come." He dramatically sighs and heads to the table. "Come now Will, let's stuff our faces!
As Will follows his dad he wonders who exactly the child is. He looks over at his boyfriend and his dad. They look like they're still having a heated discussion. Luckily for Will he has Nico's jacket so the chill in the air isn't as bad as it could have been. Nico hasn't noticed the jacket is gone until he brings his hands up to tig it around himself and it's gone. Looking up he mock scowls at Will.
Nico walks up to his boyfriend with an air of I don't care. They both know he cares very much. "Will, give me my jacket."
In response Will sticks out his tongue and says no. This results in a banter fight much like the one back at the apartment.
Will doesn't want to give the jacket back because it's warm and he's freezing. Nico says he can get him another one of Nico's leather jackets. But Will isn't having it. He knows this is Nico's favorite jacket hence why it was in the car, he takes that thing everywhere he goes. He wants to wear his boyfriend's favorite jacket. His boyfriend wants to wear his favorite jacket. The two of them are so engrossed in their argument they don't see the three adults smiling at them.
Persephone was reminded of how she first felt arguing with Hades over the fact she was kidnapped against her will by a much older man. She was intimidated by this man yet she felt some sort of weird connection to him. She pitied him because he was older and lonely down here with no one but Cerberus to keep him company. Eventually she came to care for this man unlike her stepson and his boyfriend who genuinely seem to get along even when arguing.
She goes over to break it up. "Boys, you can have this argument later. Nico, let Will keep the jacket, you can feel him shivering. I'll go turn up the fire. Will dear, come sit and stuff your face as your impatient father has been doing for the past half hour.
At this Apollo looks up turkey gravy dripping from his mouth. They all sigh and hope this is over soon. The dinner drags on and on and suddenly Hades can't take it anymore. While the rest of the group has polite conversation, Apollo finds it necessary to butt in and make it funny when it's not.
Normally Will accepts this behavior with grace, but not on Christmas and not when he is trying to get approval from his boyfriend's father who happens to be Lord of the Dead.
"Hey Dad," Will says from across the table where he has watched his dad pack away most of the food on the table. "I don't appreciate this and maybe I'll tell mom about this little gathering and how your Southern manners disappeared." He raises an eyebrow and Apollo's response is hilarious.
He sits up straight and acts like a Southern gentleman the rest of the time. Will signs in exasperation and turns to Nico and Lord Hades.
"Lord Hades, please forgive my father for his behavior," here he pauses while throwing side glances at his father.
Hades waves his hand in a gesture of peace. "Please boy. This is almost tame for my nephew. Did you enjoy your meal?"
Turning to Nico for reassurance Will answer carefully. "Yes Lord Hades. The good was quite delicious. Thank you for inviting us over for dinner."
"You are welcome boy," Hades says turning to his son. "Now, let's get the gift giving over with so my nephew can go home." The two snicker together and Will tries not to join in. It's impossible though as Persephone is talking to Apollo utterly bemused while he sprouts haikus about the meal.
"Father, here is my gift to you," Nico's voice carries as he hands a gift to Lord Hades.
"Thank you son. I appreciate it." His voice also carries. Apollo is beginning to quiet down and not be so energetic. Now he begins to get downright cocky. He's no longer dramatic.
He heads to their end of the table near the tree Persephone insisted on having. "Ahhhh presents. I remember when I was youn-" Apollo is cut off when Nico hands him a gift.
They're all speechless and Will stares at Nico in shock. Looking around at all of them he asks "what? I can give gifts."
A shocked silence falls over the room when Will throws himself in Nico's arms. He whispers in his boyfriend's ear. "He didn't expect to get one from you Nico. Look, you made him cry. " They look over still wrapped in each other's arms. Apollo is in fact hugging the gift while grinning with happy tears running down his face.
The look on Will's face says it all. Nico grins as he watches his boyfriend watch his dad open the gift. Suddenly Apollo is rushing towards Nico and grabs him in a hug. Stiffening Nico is confused but then reaches around the god and hugs him back.
Hades looks on with pride at his son who with Will Solanc's aid will grow to be a fine young man. He already was, but since he met Will he had grown in leaps and bounds in height and personality. He was proud of his boy.
Will is beaming with pride at the fact his boyfriend was thoughtful enough to get his dad a gift. To their surprise Apollo hands a gift right back to Nico.
The night is just full of surprises and after the gift giving and opening, Will and Nico start to clean up to head out. They had fun despite the rocky start and by the end of the night Hades had laughed out loud more times than Apollo can remember and Apollo hadn't felt the need to be cocky or arrogant. He was the man Will's mom must have fallen in love with.
As Nico and Will get up to leave Apollo hugs each of them, but Nico's is especially long. He whispers thank you for everything in his ear. Nico is absolutely shocked. He didn't think Apollo knew the words thank you. But here he was a mere demigod getting thanked by a god! Wow, Will's dad is full of surprises…
Apollo then goes over and hugs Hades and Persephone. He really is full of surprises today. He goes and leaves. In his wake four very confused people discuss what happened.
Hades wants to know how his nephew behaved all nice and sweet. He almost didn't recognize him! Persephone told him it was because he realized he could be himself and not have to put an image up.
Nico says he doesn't know which Apollo he finds most sickening, earning him a slap on the back of the head from Will.
They discuss it more and the four grow closer. The Christmas dinner really was a success even with Apollo there. Nico hugs his father and stepmother then gathers up their gifts. Will goes up to Hades and shakes his hand thanking him for inviting them. Persephone hugs Will saying he must come back soon when Nico next visits them.
Soon the two fade into shadows with the two immortals waving after them. Will takes off the jacket and puts it back in the backseat of the car with a grin.
"Well Neeks, I'd say it was a success though I was worried for a second." Will says getting into the driver's seat.
"Me too Will. Your dad actually seems like a really nice guy. I bet it gets tiring putting up a facade all the time," Nico responds through a yawn. "Will, don't drive all the way home. Stop at a hotel okay?"
Nodding Will turns the ignition and starts to drive. They talk about the dinner and how different it turned out from what they expected. Then they start to banter tearing each other with how they expected the night to end up.
"Neeks, you look really good in emerald holy Hera!" Will glances over at his tired boyfriend who is drifting off.
"Will, don't even start you look amazing in my leather jacket. Maybe I'll let you wear it more often." Smiling to himself Nico thinks he'll let only Will wear his leather jacket now. They can share it. His last words before he falls asleep are: "I love you William so pull into a hotel and we'll spend the night there. You're not driving all the way home this late."
Nico's soft snores fill the car and Will can't help but think he and Nico are made for each other. They complement one another perfectly and he thinks back on all the memories they've made together since they got together all those years ago.
Seeing a vacancy sign at a motel he pulls into the parking lot. He leaves Nico snoring away while he goes and asks for a room. Coming back out he rouses Nico and tells him he can sleep in a real bed.
Half asleep Nico leans on his boyfriend for support. The night turned out better than he could ever expected. Maybe next year they could shadow travel or even stay the night.
As Will supports his boyfriend while walking to the room he thinks of how grateful he is to Apollo for catching the eye of his mother so he could he born and also Lord Hades because he made Nico come into existence.
Opening the door, Will walks over to the bed placing the dozing Nico on it. After giving him a forehead kiss he goes to the other side of the bed. "Love you too Neeks."
Both Nico and Will dream about the wonderful Christmas dinner they just had and wonder what will happen next year.
And that's a wrap (lol) on they fanfic! I hope you guys like it! Please let me know what you think of it!
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freddiesaysalright · 4 years
Text
Part of Your World - Chapter 2
Ben!Prince Eric x Mermaid!Reader
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Summary: Prince Ben is trying to escape an arranged marriage. A young mermaid wants to escape the sea. Their paths cross and they may just be what the other is looking for. 
Word Count: 4.6k
Tag List: @psychosupernatural​, @someone-get-a-medic​, @bensrhapsody​, @deakyclicks​, @crazylittlethingcalledobsession​, @minigranger​, @crazyweirdocalledfriday​, @the-moving-finger-writes​, @assembledherethevolunteers​, @rose-writes-prose​, @queenlover05​, @26-7-49​, @drowsebaby​, @im-an-adult-ish​, @queen-paladin​, @rogerina-owns-me​, @mirkwoodshewolf​, @seven-seas-of-ham-on-rhye​, @radiob-l-a-hblah​ If you’d like to be added, let me know!
A/N: Y’all I’m sorry this chapter took so long. See this post for everything that’s been going on in my life 
Warning(s): Mild descriptions of violence
Moodboard
Chapter 1
Chapter 2 here we go!!!
“What was that?” Ben wondered, sitting up a little straighter. 
“Not sure,” Ari replied, releasing Kay and getting to her feet. 
Ben followed suit and they walked over to the ledge together. Neither of them noticed the mermaid pressing herself up against the side of the ship, holding her breath and praying they didn’t look down.
Behati emerged from her quarters and walked out to join the crew. She had one hand behind her back.
“Eric,” she said. 
Ben turned to face her.
“If that really is your name,” she said.
The color drained from his face. “What are you talking about?”
“I found this among your things,” she replied, and brought her hand forward. She held up his ring. “The crest of the royal family is on it.”
While Ben had not worn any jewelry during his escape, he had packed his ring just in case he needed it. It was an heirloom worn by every prince in his father’s line. It was silver, with mermaids on the side, holding up the crest in the middle. There were diamond chips on the four corners of the crest, and the mermaids had tiny emeralds for eyes.
“You had no right to go through my things!” he argued. 
“You are a guest on my ship!” she shot back. “I had every right. Who are you? The prince? A lord? Who?”
“There are other things to worry -”
“Whoever is on that ship can wait until morning when we can see,” she snapped. “Tell. Me. Who. You. Are. Now!”
Ben shrunk away, his back hitting the ledge. 
“Okay,” he conceded. “You guessed right. I’m the prince.”
She narrowed her eyes at him. “So. Benjamin is your name.”
From below, your heart gave a flutter. Prince Benjamin. What a handsome name!
“Ben’s fine,” he said nervously. 
“Well, Ben, we’re taking you home,” she said firmly. “I won’t be followed and charged with kidnapping the prince.”
“No, please!” Ben cried. “I can’t go home yet!”
“Why?” she demanded.
He hesitated, looking away for a moment. He locked eyes with Ari, who placed a comforting hand on his shoulder.
“She can’t understand if you don’t explain,” she said. “And she can’t trust you unless you trust her.”
He looked back at Behati.
“My father is forcing me to get married,” he admitted. 
You stiffened at that word. Married?! That wasn’t good news for you.
“He keeps bringing all these princesses and high born ladies to visit, hoping I’ll fall for one of them,” he went on. “But they’re all...dreadful. And he’s sort of run out of options now.”
Behati softened. She approached him slowly, took his hand, and pressed the ring into his palm. Then she curled his fingers around it.
“Was being honest really so hard?” she teased. Then she became serious. “Ben, I understand wanting to escape. Probably better than most people. I hope you’re not under the impression that I lack empathy or compassion.”
“It’s just...I don’t know you very well yet,” he chuckled.
“Know this,” she said. “I don’t turn my back on people in need. Being forced into a marriage...that’s terrible. Even princes have their share of trouble, eh?”
It was such a dramatic shift in her, it was throwing Ben off balance. Behati had become suddenly very soft. Even stranger, he liked knowing that she had it in her.
“They do,” he agreed. 
“You may remain on my ship for as long as you need,” she said. “Or as long as you’re useful.” 
She winked and released his hand. She stood in the center of the deck and looked up at the starry sky. Ben looked as well as he slipped his ring back on. He had never seen so many stars.
“It’s a beautiful night,” the captain said. “There should be music.”
The crew cheered. Ari went to grab her fiddle. Ben shrugged and decided to join the merriment. You pulled yourself forward again to watch. 
You watched them all night, fearful that leaving now meant your last chance to see humans up close would pass. Behati, Ben, and the others played music, danced, drank, told stories, and laughed. It seemed that with honesty, came the beginnings of friendship. It almost made you sick with envy. And yet, you could not pull yourself away.
They carried on all night. The golden hush of the morning came over the water, and the sun began to peek over the horizon. Ben had fallen asleep against the mast, and much of the crew was now lazily plucking at instruments or dozing softly. Behati was still awake. She retrieved a spyglass from a strap on her hip and she looked over at the ship that was approaching from the night. It was time to find out who they were.
She knew almost all the other pirate captains. They had an agreement. Since Behati’s interest was not in riches, they left her alone. In return, she left them alone, but with one condition - they could not trade people. Any pirates she caught dealing in the slave trade would be challenged. And she had never lost a battle.
Ben stirred awake. He looked up and saw Behati checking things out. Relief came over him. He had enjoyed himself during the night, but the concern about the other ship was still eating at him. He scrambled to his feet and walked over to stand beside her.
“Who are they?” he asked. “Do you know?”
Her mouth was turned into a deep frown. She lowered the spyglass, looking ready to spit a bullet. Ben had never seen such anger.
“Slavers,” she said slowly. 
“How do you know?” he wondered.
“The insignia,” she told him. 
She held out her arm and pulled up her sleeve. He stepped back, horrified. The skin was deformed by a deep scar - a brand. 
“Are they other pirates?” he asked.
“No,” she said. “These are the professionals.”
“That’s not right,” he said. “My father outlawed slavery years ago.”
“If you think slavery ended because your father signed a piece of parchment, you are a fool, little prince,” she retorted. “He may have signed the law, but he hasn’t enforced it. The navy is too busy fetching princesses to patrol the waters apparently.”
Ben swallowed as he watched the ship coming closer.
“You know how to use that sword you carry?” Behati asked.
“I’ve been trained,” he told her. “But I’ve never had to use it...y’know...in earnest.”
“Well, brace yourself,” she warned. “We’re commandeering their ship.”
She turned to face the crew. She put her index finger and pinky in her mouth and whistled. Ben flinched at the sharp, high pitched ring, but the rest of the crew perked up.
“Wake up, ladies!” she shouted. “It’s liberation time!”
Everyone immediately got to work. The anchor was hoisted and the sails were opened. You clung to the rope you’d used to climb the ship in the first place and held on as the ship began to move. You were scared, for sure, but mostly you were excited. You just hoped it wasn’t too dangerous.
After what felt like years, the ships were stopped astride each other. You were still firmly on Behati’s, but within a few yards of being sandwiched between them.
Ben looked between Behati’s hard expression and the smirk of the captain on the opposite ship. He was an older man - probably around the king’s age - but with a leathery complexion and an ugly sneer. His hair was gray and frayed at the ends. He had a look in his eye that struck Ben as evil.
“Captain Behati, I gather,” the man said. “I’d say your reputation precedes you, but you’re much more beautiful in person.”
“Shove it,” Behati returned harshly. “Surrender your ship, and I won’t hurt you.”
“‘Fraid I can’t do that, love,” the man replied. “I’ve got cargo to deliver.”
“People aren’t cargo, slaver,” she snapped. 
“Now, we can be respectful, can’t we?” he said. “My name is Captain Reginald, and I -”
Behati interrupted him with a swift drawing of her sword. “I don’t care what your name is. Release your prisoners or I will feed you to the sharks.”
“Not before I introduce you to a friend of mine,” he replied. “Say hello to Davy Jones for me!”
Reginald went for the pistol on his hip. Ben saw that the old captain’s finger went right to the trigger. He whipped it out with surprising speed for his age and immediately squeezed it. Ben dove in front of Behati, and felt the flesh on his right shoulder explode before tumbling over the side of the ship and into the darkness of the sea.
“BEEEEEEEEEN!”
Behati’s cry was the last thing he heard before everything went black.
The sounds of a battle erupted above you. You watched in horror as Ben’s body fell right past you and hit the water with a sickening splash. Without hesitation, you dove in after him. As soon as you hit the water, you saw a small, shiny object glint above him. It was the ring.
You snatched it from out in front of you and slipped it on your finger. Then you swam hard after Ben’s sinking form. With the help of your fins, you reached him quickly, wrapping your arms around his chest, and pulling with all your might. Your muscles ached from the weight of him and the resistance of the water, but you pushed vigorously back toward the surface. You just hoped it wasn’t too late.
When you broke through, Ben began to cough, to your great relief. At least he was alive. Water sprayed from his mouth and he struggled to inhale, but he was alive. His eyes barely opened and he looked at you.
“Thank you,” he said blearily. 
“Come on,” you replied. “We have to get you back on board.”
He mumbled something more that you didn’t understand. The sounds of what was going on up on the ships unnerved you. Swords clanged as they clashed. Explosions rang out - just like the ones that had sent Ben overboard. It was not a sound you were familiar with and it made your stomach flip. People cried out with anger and pain. Others hit the deck with a wound. Would putting Ben back on the ship be safe?
You looked up and saw that the commotion was coming from the other ship, not Behati’s. But if you climbed straight up, you would be seen. So, resituating Ben in your arms, you swam toward the bow to go around Behati’s hip and get him up from the other side.
You started out and Ben let out a soft groan with the movement. 
“I’m sorry, Ben,” you told him desperately. “Hold on just a little longer!”
He muttered some more under his breath. His eyes fluttered as he glanced over to look at you, but he couldn’t keep them open.
Your body was screaming with the effort of pulling him along. Ben was larger than you, and muscular, not to mention all the clothes he had on were weighing him down even more. You were only halfway there and already exhausted. You pressed on. You couldn’t let him die. 
Panting, you reached the other side. Thankfully, there was a net ladder hanging down. You kicked toward it and grabbed a lower rung. 
The wake from the rocking of the ships made emerging from the water more difficult. Especially since your primary concern was keeping water out of Ben’s mouth. The last thing he needed was to swallow a bunch of sea water - or worse, get it trapped in his lungs. 
There was another rope hanging down beside the net ladder. You used that to strap Ben securely to your body. Then you began to climb. It was the most difficult climb of your life. Your arms were on fire with how hard they were working, and it felt like there were miles between you and the top. Grunting, panting, and sweating - which you had never experienced before - you fought your way up. 
After hauling him up you dragged yourself - Ben attached - over the railing. You flopped onto the deck on your side and caught your breath. You gulped in the air and released it heavily, before swiftly getting to work to untie the rope. Your skin was red from it rubbed you raw, but you couldn’t focus on the sting. Ben was lying alarmingly still.
You tossed the rope back over the side and then rolled the prince onto his back. You put your ear beside his mouth. Low, rattling breaths were just barely escaping. 
“Ben,” you said gently, placing a hand on his chest. “Ben, are you in there?”
His eyes slowly opened once more. They were a beautiful shade of green. You held his gaze in that moment, and everything around you seemed to stop. It was just you and Ben, connecting, meeting for the first time.
Then he squeezed his eyes shut, turned onto his left side, and coughed up more water. When he was done, he winced and grabbed his wounded shoulder before falling onto his back once more.
“Wh...who are you?” he wondered groggily.
“Shhh, don’t talk now,” you replied. “Help is coming.”
Ben’s vision was blurry. Your face moved in and out of focus, but he was certain he had never seen you before. He had never seen anyone that beautiful in his life.
You looked around for anyone who could help, but Behati and her crew were all on the other ship. Although, things had quieted down significantly. A majestic form came flying through the air, and you recognized it as Behati. She landed with a loud thud and she looked up, meeting your eyes.
You gasped and threw yourself overboard, hoping she would chalk up what she saw to her imagination. You sailed through the air and twisted yourself into a diving position so you hit the water smoothly. It felt soothing on your hot, aching body. Before you returned to the depths, you poked your head out and listened. You heard Behati rousing Ben. Satisfied, you swam down.
Ben was waking up gradually. He hurt all over. He distinctly heard Behati above him, fretting like a mother hen, but still managing to insult him.
“You idiot, Benjamin!” she scolded. “Getting yourself shot to protect me?! For what? Some chivalrous glory?! I could -”
“Behati, please,” he groaned. “I did it because you’re my friend.”
He looked at her and saw watery eyes and almost smirked, but he was in too much pain.
“It hurts,” he winced.
“Take him to my quarters,” she said.
Ari put his injured arm around her shoulders and eased him to his feet. He looked at the captain.
“What about the captives?” he asked her.
She smiled. “All free. I never lose.”
“Where will they go?” he wondered.
“Home, I suppose,” she said. “I gave them the ship.”
“Did you let any of the slavers live?” 
“All but the captain,” she replied.
“Tell the ones you freed to take the ship to the capital - to my father,” he said. “There the slavers can answer for their crimes, and we can get the people back to their homeland by royal escort.”
Behati’s smile widened and her eyes shone. 
“You really are a prince,” she said. 
“As proof of their authority, let them take this,” he began again, reaching for his right hand.
He blinked when he saw there was nothing on it.
“Oh no!” he cried. “My ring is gone!”
Behati frowned. “It must have come off in the water. I’m so sorry, Ben.”
“S’alright,” he returned. “I have a seal in my bag. Will you write up a document, and I can sign it for you?”
“Kay, write the necessary letters,” Behati said. “Ari, you and I will tend to that wound.”
She put his free arm over her shoulders and together, the women carried him into the captain’s quarters. They lay him upon her desk. Then Behati retrieved some rum from the shelf on the wall. She handed it to Ben.
“You might want this while we stitch you up,” she said.
He sat up and took a swig, making a sour face as it burned its way down his throat. She laughed.
“What’s the matter?” she teased. “Nothing that strong in the palace?”
“No,” he wheezed. “We usually just have wine.”
She and Ari exchanged a look and laughed.
“Keep drinking, little prince,” Behati instructed. “We’ll have you patched up in no time.”
“Bottom’s up,” he replied, and drank again.
***
You rocketed away from the scene as fast as you could swim. When you were safe within the depths, you stopped to catch your breath again. You needed to take in everything that just happened. You snuck to the surface, watched humans for an entire night, just barely saved the prince's life, and now you were on your way home after being gone for hours. Oh, no. You were definitely in trouble again.
Well, you had to face the music. You weren’t going to put it off this time. Plus, the sooner your father finished yelling at you, the sooner you could get some sleep. Your eyelids already felt heavy.
As you made your way home, you kept thinking about Ben and that moment you had locked eyes on the ship. Something electric had sparked between you. There was something there that you could barely explain, and yet you felt it. It wasn’t just that he was handsome, there was more to him than that. You wanted nothing more than to see him again, and know all there was to him.
You slowly swam to the throne room, once again peeking inside to see the kind of mood your father was in. He was swimming back and forth in front of his throne, hand on his chin, eyes on the floor. He was worried.
“Father?” 
He whipped around, took in the sight of you, and flew over to gather you up in his arms.
“Y/N!” he cried. “Where in the seven seas have you been, child?! We’ve been looking everywhere for you!”
He pulled away and looked you up and down. His mouth turned down into a frown when he spotted the angry red marks on your skin from the rope of the ship. They had calmed a lot, but not enough.
“Y/N, what’s this?” he asked. “What have you gotten yourself into?”
“Before I explain, promise me you won’t get mad,” you began.
“I will make no such promise!”
You sighed. It was worth a shot.
“Father, I…” you trailed off. Now was the time to be honest or lie your fins off. “I was exploring another shipwreck.”
Better to lie for now. If he found out what you had done in its entirety, he might kill you.
“Y/N!” he shouted. “We’ve discussed this! You’ve got to let go of your silly dreams of humanity! It’s childish, it’s dangerous, and deliberate disobedience of the law! I think you’re trying to give me a heart attack at this point!”
“I just have an interest!” you shot back, throwing your hands up. “What’s so wrong with that?!”
Your father snatched your wrist out of the water and drew it closer to him. You gulped. You’d forgotten Ben’s ring was on your finger.
“What...is this?” you father demanded.
“Something I found in the shipwreck,” you told him. “Just a trinket.”
He examined your form once again. “You’re lying to me. This ring has no signs of age on it. Those rope burns were not from loose rope. Where have you been?!”
You wrenched your arm free and cradled the ring to your chest. You narrowed your eyes at him.
“I was at the surface,” you said defensively. “And I’m glad I was there. I saved a young man who might have drowned if I -”
“DON’T!” Triton bellowed. “THIS TIME YOU’VE GONE TOO FAR!”
You shrank back, frightened. 
“Father, h-he might have died!” you argued.
“And GOOD RIDDANCE!” he shouted. “What need do we have for one more lousy human, huh?! Do you really think yourself a hero for saving that animal’s life?!”
“He’s not an animal, he’s a prince!” you returned. 
“I’ve tried to be understanding, I’ve tried to be patient with you, Y/N, but nothing works!” he cried, exasperated. “But so help me, I am going to get through to you!” 
“What are you going to do, ground me?” you challenged. “Well, I’m a grown woman!”
“Fine, if you want to be grown and independent of me, then so be it,” he snapped. “Guards!”
Two young mermen swam in from the corridor.
“Arrest the princess,” Triton said. “Take her to the outpost.”
You gasped. “Father, no!”
The outpost was an open area far away from the palace. Prisoners were chained by the fin to a solitary post hammered into the ocean floor. It was isolating and terrifying. 
“You broke the law, Y/N,” your father said. “And you will face the consequences. Anyone who makes contact with humans gets twenty four hours at the outpost.” 
The guards each took one of your wrists and clapped irons around them. You could see the conflict in their eyes as they did so. To arrest a member of the royal family was something unheard of. But your father’s point was to make an impression. And he did.
You shot him one last pleading look, but he turned away. The guards led you out of the throne room, out of the palace, and through the town. The other merpeople watched in shock as the princess was escorted out of her own kingdom. You saw Lorelai as you passed her place and looked away, hot tears forming in your eyes.
You didn’t fight when the guards put a chain on the end of your tail, where it met your fins, and then attached it to the post. One looked on with sympathy.
“We’re sorry about this, princess,” he said. “But if you’d just obey your father, this wouldn’t happen. He’s only trying to keep you safe.”
“Just go,” you said moodily. You had no desire to comfort him about what he was doing, or validate your father in any way.
With a sigh, they left you there. You allowed yourself to break down after that. You were tired, emotional, and just wanted to relax. And now, you were being punished for what you considered as doing the right thing. You gazed at the ring and recalled again Ben’s eyes. As you looked at the chain around your tail, you decided this was worth it. You still did not regret saving his life, and you were more resolved than ever to see him again. As soon as you could. 
But for now, you had to close your eyes. Your weariness was catching up with you. So you laid down and slept off everything. 
***
“Who saved me?” Ben asked as Behati finished the last stitch on his shoulder. Ari had already left to continue her regular duties. 
“What do you mean?” she returned. 
“Someone saved me,” he said. “A woman. I didn’t recognize her but she had to be one of yours, right?”
“Ben, every member of my crew was on Reginald’s ship,” she explained. “No one was on board or in the water.”
“That’s impossible,” he insisted. “I remember someone carrying me...sort of dragging me around...and then when we got back on deck, I saw her.”
“What did she look like?” Behati asked. 
“I’m not sure, it’s all sort of fuzzy,” he said. “But I know I saw her. She spoke to me and everything.” 
Behati took a moment. She saw the mermaid on the ship, caring for Ben and gazing longingly at him. She always knew that mermaids existed, but this was the first one she had ever seen up close. Behati did not want to reveal her in case it meant trouble for the rest of the merpeople. 
“I don’t know what happened, Ben, but when we got back, you were already there and safe,” she said. “No one was around.” 
Ben frowned. He knew what he remembered. Though he could not recall the full picture of the woman, she had to be real. He could not have survived without her. 
“Why is it so important to you?” Behati asked.
“Because something...happened,” he said. “We locked eyes and for a moment, I felt like...never mind, it’s stupid.”
“Ben,” she said assuredly, taking his hand. “It’s not. Tell me.”
“I felt like I’d found the woman of my dreams,” he said. 
She almost smiled, but faltered. “I hope she’s out there, then. I really do.”
***
You woke almost an hour later. As you stretched, you felt...watched. Which seemed impossible since there was nowhere for anyone to hide out here. Even so, you couldn’t shake the eeriness. 
“Hello?” you called out, feeling stupidly cautious. 
“Triton’s daughter,” said a raspy, spine chilling voice. “All chained up on the outpost? How cruel.”
“Who are you?” you demanded. 
You sounded braver than you felt. You did not recognize this voice. 
“I represent someone who can help you, princess,” the voice continued. “Someone who’s been keeping an eye on your situation.”
“Who?” you pressed. 
“Sycoria,” the voice said. 
From the foggy depths, it approached and came into view. It was an eel. The large, yellow eyes blinked at you as it came closer. 
“The sea witch?” you questioned, though you knew the answer. 
“Yes, child,” the eel replied. “She can get you what you want.”
“Why does she care what I want?” you wondered.
“Sycoria has sympathy for all creatures in need,” he explained with an over-kindness that made your skin crawl. “Come with me and see what she can do for you?”
“I can’t go anywhere,” you said. “I’m chained here.”
You pointed to the irons. 
“I’ll make quick work of that,” the eel said.
He flicked his tail and the chains evaporated. The bubbles floated away and you watched them go, amazed. 
“Now, are you coming?” he asked with a toothy grin.
You looked up, remembering the surface. Then you looked at the ring. 
“This may be your only chance to see him again,” the eel said. “Are you willing to let that go out of a little thing like fear?”
You narrowed your eyes. 
“I’ll see Sycoria.” 
“That’s a girl,” the eel said. “Come with me.” 
He swam off. You had to hurry to follow him. A jolt of nerves almost made you stop. But this was your shot at being human, at earning Ben’s love. You would never get another. You forced yourself onward. 
You swam behind the eel for nearly an hour. Finally, you reached a cave. It was glowing an ominous violet color. You came to a halt at the mouth. 
“Don’t be shy,” the eel said. “Go on in.”
You gulped. If your father knew about this, he would lose his head. But, he didn’t understand you. He would never understand that what you felt with Ben in that split second meant the world to you. You entered the cave. 
It was dark at first, but you maintained your pace toward the spooky glow. When you reached the end of the entrance tunnel, it almost took your breath away. It was similar to your collection cove, only much bigger, and filled with more oddities than you could even imagine. Bits and bobs of things you had never seen before. 
“Um, hello?” you said nervously. 
“Ah, the princess,” said another mysterious voice. It was smokey and alluring. 
From around the corner, she entered. The half woman, half octopus sea witch. She was thin and tall, with wild, white hair and vivid purple eyes. Her lips were drawn into a wide smile. 
“I’ve been waiting for you.”
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pellucidity-is-me · 3 years
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A Chat with the Hat
Summary: The war has shed an unsavory light on seemingly innocent traditions, and now Hermione has questions—particularly about the merits of a system that pushes children into boxes. She borrows the Sorting Hat from the school (not to worry; she got permission) and sits down to discuss human nature, psychology, and individual values. 
Notes: From a line in my longer fic (link in my blog description if you want to read it) that I wanted to expand upon. I never saw the Sorting system as something that measured personality traits: here’s how it works in my little world.
Wordcount: 4236
Hermione Granger is thirty years old.
She's solved a lot of mysteries in her thirty years. Now that the story of Harry Potter is more popular than ham on Christmas, she's known throughout the wizarding world as "the brains". It's a hard expectation to live up to. Sometimes she makes a silly mistake (a wrong turn while driving, mixed-up wizarding and Muggle lingo, burnt dinner) and an acquaintance will turn to her and say, "Weren't you supposed to be the clever one?" People have such high expectations of Hermione that she can never impress anyone—only let them down.
But that's only the public. To the people that Hermione loves most—her husband, her children, her closest friends—Hermione is exactly who she wants to be. It's hard to be in the spotlight all the time, but at least she doesn't have it as bad as Harry does. Harry is a scrawny, awkward, twenty-nine-year-old man who can never make his hair lie flat, doesn't care about his appearance much, and was certainly not built for the public eye. But that's the way it's always been for Harry, and even Hermione and Ron have ended up getting used to it after a couple of years. Ron seems rather thrilled by the whole thing, actually.
Now that everything has settled down, though, Hermione misses the days of action and adventure. The other children at Hogwarts always shoved her into the role of a bookish prude (and she was, sometimes), but the truth is, Hermione loves the thrill of a chase—she always has. Mystery is her passion. The moment that Hermione discovered Nicholas Flamel—the Basilisk—that Lupin was a werewolf—oh, the domestic life can never replicate that glowing pride and beating heart.
So now, at thirty years old, Hermione Granger sets out on a brand-new adventure. She has a new mystery now, and it's one that she's wondered about for years on end.
She's gained permission from Minerva to borrow the Sorting Hat, and now she is sitting in her bedroom, holding the Hat in her hands. It's a good day for some first-rate interrogation: Ron has taken the kids to Harry's for a playdate, so Hermione has a couple of hours, at least, to herself.
And she can't wait.
She slips the Hat onto her head—even though she is much older, it still covers her eyes slightly. She squirms with joy, remembering that wonderful first day at Hogwarts, surrounded by magic that she hadn't even known existed and potential friends and so much knowledge and adventure...
"Well, well," says the Hat, tearing Hermione away from her blissful nostalgia. "Hermione Granger."
"Afternoon," says Hermione evenly. She can speak aloud, seeing as no one is home. "I had a few—"
"—questions, yes. I gathered that. I see everything in your head." The Hat chuckles. "It's rare when adults want to put me on, you know. They have so many more secrets, and they can't stand the fact that I could just... tell anyone."
Hermione is panicked for half a second, but she doesn't think that she has any secrets.
"No, you're right," says the Hat. "No secrets here. Only an intense curiosity."
"Why didn't you put me in Ravenclaw?" Hermione blurts. "Now I know that I wouldn't have done well in Ravenclaw, of course. I'd have never met Ron and Harry, and it wouldn't have encouraged any aspect of me but my intellectual brilliance. I recognize, now, that intelligence isn't the most important thing... but when I was a first-year Muggle-born girl, desperate to prove myself, I thought for certain that there was nothing more important than good marks. I asked for Gryffindor, yes, but I wasn't brave back then. You can't tell the future, can you? That would be highly complex magic. Do you take alternate realities into account? Exactly how much magical programming was dedicated to your creation? How long did it take the founders to create you?" Hermione thinks of Salazar Slytherin and has a terrible thought. "Is there Dark magic involved?"
The Sorting Hat makes an odd Hat-like noise that's akin to a laugh. "So many questions," it says. "No Dark magic: Godric was highly opposed to it. No alternate realities. No divination. Extensive magical programming, of course. And Hermione Granger: you were never a Ravenclaw."
"But—"
"You were relatively clever, like a Ravenclaw. You were ambitious, like a Slytherin. You were kind and loyal, like a Hufflepuff. And you were brave—no matter what you may have thought—like a Gryffindor."
"Then how did you decide?"
"It is a common misconception that my job is to pick out the most dominant trait in a person's character and Sort them based on that trait."
"...Isn't it?"
"No. I Sort people based on what they want to be, not what they are."
"Ah..." says Hermione. That makes sense, actually. She's never seen some of her fellow Gryffindors as particularly brave, and Luna Lovegood was always rather—no, she isn't going to finish that thought. Luna is Hermione's friend, even though Hermione thinks that Nargles are utter nonsense. "I didn't think that... I mean, you told us yourself that your original intention was to solve a dispute amongst the Founders."
"True, true. But the dispute was specifically because of values, not of personality traits. You can be whatever you want to be; it only takes dedication. Not only that, but my purpose and means were modified throughout the years as the Founders solidified their visions of Hogwarts. It was eventually decided that values were a more efficient way of Sorting than talents. What a person wants to be is far more indicative of a person's nature than I.Q., kind deeds, or any other outside factor is. The Founders, above all, wanted those who shared values with themselves. Besides, there are so many types of intelligence, ambition, courage, and kindness that there was no solid way for me to measure those talents besides measuring values. There were a few failed experiments."
Hermione makes a small noise of surprise, and the Hat answers before Hermione can even ask. "I accidentally caught fire once. Apparently Hat magic is prone to fire when done incorrectly. And the Giant Squid is in the Black Lake on my account."
Hermione almost wants to request an elaboration, but she really doesn't want to know. She turns the conversation back to herself. "I didn't want to be brave, though. That was probably the last thought in my mind. I wanted to be intelligent. I only wanted Gryffindor because... er, red was my favorite color..." Hermione's cheeks promptly turn her favorite color. She's never told anyone that before.
The Hat merely laughs. "Yes, I know. You were a confused first-year Muggle-born girl. You didn't know what you wanted. I do not look into the future, but I can look very deeply into the subconscious. Do you remember what you said to Harry Potter directly before he went to fight Quirrell and Voldemort?"
"Er... no."
"You told him that there were more important things than books and cleverness. You said that friendship and bravery were much more crucial to greatness. And you heard my song before you were Sorted—you knew that Gryffindor was the House of Courage and that still didn't deter you. You always believed in courage; you just let yourself be fit into a box by people who told you that you were bright. Intelligence is not a personality trait: it is a genetic and learned ability—much like physical strength is not a personality trait. You are clever, but it is not, in your opinion, the most important part of who you are. It never was."
It's kind of odd, Hermione thinks, that a hat is telling her everything that she never knew about herself. She tried for so long to analyze her subconscious in her later Hogwarts years—tried to figure out what the Hat could have possibly picked up—and, because Hermione chose her House based on her favorite color (and the Hat, despite her Ravenclaw intelligence, complied), she's believed for a long time that the Sorting ceremony is superficial to the point of being useless. Now she's not so sure. "So people who go to Gryffindor are not necessarily brave?"
"No. Some of them are downright cowardly. It all hangs on what they want to be. What they value—that is essential. You valued knowledge, but you did so for the application of it and not for knowledge's sake. You didn't get pleasure in learning, Miss Granger. You got pleasure in applying knowledge—especially when you were on one of those Gryffindor adventures of yours. You got pleasure in the journey, not the knowledge. And you got pleasure in succeeding. You love knowledge, yes, but it was never the most important thing to you.
"That's why there are clever people who compete for top of the form in every House. People can value knowledge for a wide variety of reasons, and the same is true for kindness, success, and bravery. Your House does not determine what you are: only your reasoning behind it. Does that make sense?"
Hermione thinks about that. "Then why do I see so many Gryffindors who are brave and so many Ravenclaws who are clever? If it's about what we want, then shouldn't you put us in the opposite House of what we already are?"
The Hat chuckles again. "Sound reasoning. But no. People have an uncanny habit of wanting things that they already have."
That sounds very profound to Hermione. She almost wants to write it down, but the conversation is far too much fun. She still has so many questions.
"Go on," says the Hat, "you may take notes if you wish. I promise I'm not going anywhere. No legs, unfortunately."
Hermione laughs a bit breathlessly and removes a pad of paper and a pen from the nightstand. "Thank you," she says, pen poised over the paper. It's sort of hard to see what she's writing, what with the floppy hat covering her eyes, but she'll try her best. "Tell me about Albus Dumbledore, then. I've read Rita Skeeter's book. Looking back, I've noticed more and more things that Albus Dumbledore did that were... very Slytherin. Why was he in Gryffindor?"
"I don't usually disclose information about the other people that I've Sorted," says the Hat. Hermione is instantly embarrassed—she didn't mean to invade anyone's privacy. "Seeing as Dumbledore is dead, though," continues the Hat, "I should think that it is all right. Besides, I know everything in your head. You would never use any of the information that I give you against another."
Hermione nods and gets ready to take notes. Her heart is beating quickly, just like it used to when she was hunting Horcruxes—that's the Gryffindor, she supposes. She's found her adventure.
"Albus Dumbledore had traits of all four Houses, much like you," says the Sorting Hat thoughtfully. "He was intelligent, to be certain. Genius-level I.Q."
"How do you know his I.Q.?" interrupts Hermione.
"Ah," says the Sorting Hat dismissively, "Rowena Ravenclaw thought that it might be a good way to measure intelligence, so she gave me that ability. It was scrapped early on, of course. There are simply too many kinds of intelligence. Anyway. Dumbledore valued loyalty and kindness. He valued bravery. But the reason I put him in Gryffindor was because of his stubborn insistence on doing what he believed was right, even when it did not benefit him."
"Like the Deathly Hallows," breathes Hermione. "Harry told me about that, of course. Dumbledore owned all three Hallows separately... but never at the same time. He could have possessed them all simultaneously if he'd wanted to...become the Master of Death... but he never did. He returned James Potter's Invisibility Cloak... gave the Stone to Harry..."
"Dumbledore could have become Minister for Magic if he'd wanted to. He might have ruled wizard-kind. He could have been very adept at Dark magic. He, all things considered, could have been so much more than he was. But Dumbledore also took a step back whenever he felt he was becoming too powerful. He wanted to help, and he had a strong sense of right and wrong... which could lead him to manipulate, yes. And he had his flaws—everyone does. But he never wanted to rule the world."
"But what about Grindelwald and the Greater Good?"
"The Greater Good, Miss Granger. Think about the phrase. Dumbledore, above all, thought that what he was doing was noble. Chivalrous. He did not seek to rule for the sake of ruling. He sought to rule for the sake of others—he believed that, with wizards in charge, Muggles and magical folk alike would have better lives. It was not ambition: he was being noble. He was following his morals. And that, as I knew in his first year at Hogwarts, was what he valued above all else—not knowledge or ambition or even kindness."
"I thought that he was very kind."
"Again: it is not about what he was, it was about what he valued. He may have been kind, but it was far more important to him that he was noble. Given the choice, he would have been condescending and rude if it meant that he could make the world a better, more moral place in his own eyes. And so would you, Ronald Weasley, and Harry Potter."
Hermione rather agrees. "I thought bravery was the main trait of Gryffindors, though."
"All of the Houses have two separate and distinct traits, don't they? Gryffindors are brave and noble. Hufflepuffs are kind and loyal. Slytherins are ambitious and cunning. And Ravenclaws are clever and wise."
"Aren't they the...?"
"No. Cleverness is book intelligence. Wisdom is life intelligence."
"But all of them are..."
"The two traits in each House are related, yes, but they are not the same."
"Ah. Why?"
"Well, if we took every single distinct value that students could possibly possess, we'd have a separate House for every student. But the all-encompassing, dual-value system leads to some pretty unfortunate circumstances, as you can imagine. People end up storing so much of their identity in their House that they adopt the other trait, even if they never wanted it to begin with. That was not the case for Albus Dumbledore; he was always very brave and valued courage as a trait. But it was the case for some others. One must be cunning to be successful, yes, but not always. Some Ravenclaws are wise and not at all clever. Some Hufflepuffs are kind and not at all loyal. But the two traits go hand-in-hand so often that it is not a widespread problem—at least, I don't believe it is, but I am only a hat."
"Peter Pettigrew," says Hermione. "Remus and Sirius mentioned that he was a coward—Minerva implied it, too, when Harry and Ron and I were listening in on a conversation in Hogsmeade... but he was in Gryffindor."
"Yes. He may not have been as inherently courageous as any of his friends, but he valued bravery. He so desperately wanted to be brave. And he almost got there, too—he immediately befriended the most popular and wealthy people in the school and remained friends with them, even though he was not quite on their level. As a nervous eleven-year-old child, that takes bravery. But he was never brave in the more common sense of the word. And he was certainly never noble nor chivalrous. It took me a long time to decide about him. There were many, many factors to consider."
"He was a Hatstall," Hermione remembers. "You took over five minutes Sorting him."
"No need to ruminate on my shortcomings," chuckles the Hat. "There's a lot to sift through in the minds of some. I am very magically advanced, but the human mind is not simply a book to be read."
"Wasn't Minerva a Hatstall, too? You took more than five minutes Sorting her, didn't you? But she seems like the most typical Gryffindor I've ever met, though she is inordinately intelligent."
"That, Miss Granger, is another example of a person's House shaping character. I put Minerva McGonagall in Gryffindor because, somewhere deep down, she wanted to be courageous more than she wanted to be clever. And that desire became clear once she was around like-minded people. Perhaps she would have been a very different person had she been in Ravenclaw—I do not know; I am only a hat. But I do believe that Gryffindor encouraged that aspect of her."
"I always thought that variety was good, though. I never thought that it would be a good thing to be surrounded by like-minded people."
"You are correct. The system is not flawless."
It surprises Hermione a bit to hear the Hat admit that its life's work is not perfect. "It's not?" she says.
"No, it is not. We've discussed this already. People set too much store in their Houses. The Blacks have prided themselves on being Slytherins for generations, even though it is such an inconsequential thing in the long run. You know from personal experience that a wide range of personalities exist under a shared value. The House system was intended to draw people together who had similar values, but it became a matter of discrimination based on personality. I can see from your memories that Sirius Black was given much grief over his Sorting."
"Yes, he was."
"And he gave Severus Snape much grief for the same reason."
"...Yes."
"And Draco Malfoy thought that all Gryffindors were arrogant and annoying, even though there were many Gryffindors with whom he may have gotten along. Even Minerva McGonagall, under pressure of battle, stereotyped the Slytherins because of one comment, yes?"
Hermione remembers that (well, of course she does; the Hat wouldn't have seen it otherwise). "Yes."
"When a group of people have a shared value, they can work together beautifully and achieve that value in their own lives and the lives of others. But Sorting of any kind is dangerous, especially Sorting that cannot be controlled. Oh, I've had students beg to be in a particular House, even though it shouldn't matter in the long run. But it does matter, doesn't it? That's not the way it was intended, but that is the way that society has made it to be. People get put into boxes."
Hermione thinks of society's views towards the public version of Hermione Granger—she's "the brains"; nothing more, nothing less, and no one who does not know her intimately can see her differently. She can't even ask questions anymore without getting odd looks ("Shouldn't you already know that, Granger?"). She read a lot of books in her time at Hogwarts, sure, but she's not omniscient. "It's very unpleasant," she says softly.
"Yes, it is. You see someone in Ravenclaw robes and you think 'clever', even though many Ravenclaws are not clever and simply value intelligence. You see a Slytherin and think 'evil', even though Slytherins are not always so. You see a Gryffindor and think 'brave', even though some are like Peter Pettigrew. You see a Hufflepuff and think 'weak', though I assure you that some of the most dangerous Death Eaters were, in fact, Hufflepuffs."
"Really?" says Hermione, surprised in spite of herself.
"Oh, yes. Here's the other flaw in the system: 'kindness' and 'loyalty' do not mean the same thing to everybody. One can be loyal to the wrong person. 'Kindness', depending on your point of view, can be violence. The same applies for all the other Houses' traits. They're all very subjective. Just as you wrote off Luna Lovegood for having the 'wrong sort' of thirst for knowledge, eh?"
"But..."
"But if it weren't Sorting, then it would surely be something else. People join cliques and become defined by them all the time. Sorting has not started the trend of stereotype, and getting rid of it will not stop it."
"What are you?" asks Hermione, unable to contain herself any longer. "Are you sentient?"
"No," says the Hat, before pausing and amending its statement. "Well, perhaps, but I am not alive. I have no state of being. I do not have a soul. I am simply a very, very powerful sort of magic that was created by some of the most powerful wizards and witches in the world. I exist to read your thoughts and parrot them back to you in a way that makes sense. I exist to search in the depths of your subconscious for your values. That is all. You are, more or less, having a conversation with your own brain—alongside some added knowledge from others' brains that I have absorbed."
"But you can tell the future, yes? People's values can change."
"So they can." The Hat was silent for a moment. "Sorting was never meant to go beyond Hogwarts. It was not meant to be an eternal sole identity—it was not, in fact, meant to be a sole identity at all. It was intended to put students among those with similar values so that they could grow alongside encouraging, communicative peers. Once they had learned who they were and what they valued, students were meant to leave Hogwarts, shed their school identities, and mingle amongst those with different values. They were meant to change and grow. And they do—but many are still bound by their Houses."
"Do you think we should abolish the system, then?" Oh, Hermione would hate that. Even if the Sorting is flawed beyond repair, it's a Hogwarts staple. She doesn't think that she could bear getting rid of it. But if she has to... she will. She'll write to Minerva. She'll write to the Minister, even. "We could simply Sort as Muggle schools do. We could put students into Houses by chance. Alphabetically, perhaps."
"Oh, no. That would put me out of a job." The Hat chuckles. "Before I give you my opinion, you have to understand that I am only a Hat and I cannot have opinions. I'm simply repeating a mixture of other opinions. Notably Albus Dumbledore, who used to wear me sometimes when he worked—said it cleared his head..."
Hermione can't imagine ever having a "clear head" when wearing the Sorting Hat, but Dumbledore, she knows, was much more intelligent (and eccentric) than she will ever be.
"The system is extremely questionable in a time of war—especially a blood-purity war that puts so much emphasis on Houses. That said, it certainly has its merits in a time of peace. I stand by what I said before: if it weren't Sorting, then it would be something else. Houses foster wonderful senses of community. They help students make friends and find identities. And they really do put children around those with similar values yet wildly different personalities. The Prefect and House Head system is especially wonderful in accordance to Houses: students have mentors that value the same things as they do and can help them work towards goals that coincide with said values. It is, in theory, a wonderful idea, and it is, in practice, a decent one."
"Hrm," says Hermione, though she's not convinced.
"The problem, Miss Granger, is not with the Houses. The problem is with the PEOPLE. The problem is with pigeonholes and stereotypes. We need to fix the people, not the Houses. That starts with recognizing Houses for what they are: a value system, not a personality system. And one's values never make one a bad person. It is how one carries out those values that matters. Talents are inconsequential in the grand scheme of things."
Hermione nods, thanks the Hat, bids farewell for what will probably be the final time, and then puts it down.
She's solved another mystery.
Hermione Granger is not who she is because of her intellect, which she has received from her parents and surroundings. She is not defined by the adventures of her youth. She is not even defined by the red and gold robes that she wore all those years ago.
Her values have led her to who she is, yes: the noble nature that led her to create S.P.E.W. as a child, the bravery that drove her to break rules in pursuit of answers, and the relentless thirst to do what is right. But that has nothing to do with her talents.
Gryffindor did not give Hermione her talents and personality, it only taught her how to use them to coincide with her values.
And right now, the noble and brave Hermione Granger is going to draft a letter to Minerva. If she hurries, then perhaps she can get permission to give a speech at the Sorting Ceremony. If she does it right (which she will; after all, she's Hermione Granger), then maybe... just maybe... she can teach the children what the Sorting actually means before it becomes a problem.
Hermione remembers that the Hat had tried to do the same thing in her fifth year, but she's certain that she can be more successful. After all, she's Hermione Granger.
And Hermione is many things: she is brave, she is noble, she is intelligent, she is a bit of a know-it-all, she is reckless, she is daring, and she is also completely and utterly sick of pigeonholes.
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popculturebuffet · 3 years
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Green Eggs and Ham: “Train” Review or A Little Better Now (Patreon Review for Emma Fici)
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Hello you happy people and all aboard! We’re back on the Green Eggs and Ham Train for a Train themed episode. Train. As you can tell I like trains... admitely I don’t see enough episodes et on them and I don’t buy books or obess on them but I like the idea of a train, the comfort, the use of a mode of travel that was once common but is now simply used on occasion with the dawn of air travel, and it confining our heroes to a smaller space with limited room to move. it’s good stuff. I even tolerae the band train... I mean yes their music is okay at best, but the lyrics.. are wonderfully delightfully insane. Who else would use a garbage bag as a genuine romantic metaphor?
When last we left off things ere a bit ehhhhhhhhhhh: Sam went from delightfully quirky with some issues ot adress to annoying, and Michelle went from kin dof a bitch ot ENTIRELY THAT BITCH. Outside of Guy’s mental breakdown/heatstroke episode involving hallucinations of green eggs and ham, yes that did in fact happen, it wasn’t much to write home about and I worried the series simply had a good PILOT but the series itself wasn’t going to be fun sit through. 
If I was right or I was rilla.. will have to wait till after the cut. But first as always i’d like to thank the person who payed for this episode Emma Fici. Emma is one of my closest friends and one of two patreon patreons. If you’d like a reivew of your choice eveyr month guarnateed, then please hop over to patreon.com/popculturebuffet and back me at the 5 dollar level. You also get access to my exclusive discord where I ocasoinally post about work in progress stuff and tlak to my falns, to pick a short any time I do one and EXCLUSIVE review, as well as helping me hit my stretch goals. So line up, sign up then join me under the cut. 
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So we pick up where we left off with Guy hurtling into a lake. Eh I dunno i’ve heard being naked ina  lake is pretty neat. 
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All you’d have to do is take off the hat and your there. But Sam saves him wiht the weird train of hats he put at the end of the car for some reason, and our heroes are saved.. but down a vehicle. Oh and Sam’s vehiclular neglgence costs a bunch of fish their home.
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And our heroes are without a car and Guys at the end of his rope with Sam.. I mean granted he’s been there since he met the guy but it’s down to like the tiniest thred, not helped by Sam casually stealing his wallet to pay for train tickets depsite Guy , UNDERSTANDABLY, not wanting to hang out with the guy who has stolen with him, gotten him implicate din animal trafficing and dosen’t really respect personal space. Also it’s taken me embarassingly long to remember Micheal Douglas played my boy Hank Pym in the Ant Man and the Wasp films. Seroiusly I don’t know HOW I forgot that, him being aged up and thus unable to do ANY of the things he is constnatly denied credit for in canon (Founding the avengers, being the first ant man.. and the first goliath and the first yellow jacket and the first giant man.. and the only doctor pym...).. but instead the film kept his troubled nature and ego, but removed the domestic abuse (which is something I will not go into but needless to say the comics version went above and beyond to try and make up for that and redeem himself soley because it was the right hting to do) and by making im older still gav ehim a roll as Scott’s mentor. What i’m getting at is I freaking love Hank Pym and I could’ve been making hank pym jokes for several episdoes now. That’s a mistake I itned to recitfy.. right away as Guy looses his suitcase as a result of it and whie he lcaims not to be bothered his voice says otherwise. Eh i’m sure the world can wait for ultron Guy. 
So anyway, Guy reluctantly agrees to the train travel idea and being parked across from Sam on the grounds he has no real other options. Meanwhile the BAD GUYZ.. and i’ve also decided to drop spoilers as the series is two years old, most people reading this have probably seen the series, and it makes analysis rough when I have to dance around spoilers. So yeah the BAD GUYZ aren’t villians.. kind of a dickhead on the blue guys part, but not EVIL. They figure out their going by train it’s a whole thing.
ON the train we run into michelle again...
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Yeahhh for the first half she’s as inusfferable as she was the last two episodes and it lead me to believie the rest of the series was going to be constant suffering as she’d be in every episode, likely because they DID get Diane Keaton for this and you don’t waste Diane Keaton. You just don’t. But while they got their money’s worth in having her on screne wise they just..w asted her for the first 2 and a half episodes: Michelle is a judgemental, unpleasnt suffocating bitch and it’s going to take a lot , even if this episode helped, to make me truly like her as a person. 
Case in point her first two scenes this episode are just.. dragging her daughter past a play place uncarring about her feelings because while I DO get she cares about her child’s saftey and is terrified afte rloosing her husband.. it dosen’t EXCUSE her actions. It dosen’t forgive her locking her daughter up constanlty, not talking to her like a human being and oh yeah PUTTING A FUCKING LOCK ON HER SHE CAN CONTROL.  I mean my god I don’t think they INTENDED for her to come off as abusive as she does, and i’ve seen far worse inteitonally and untietionally, but it’s still not remotely plesant. There is a larger issue baked into that the episode brings about, but we’ll get to that. 
And naturally at breakfast.. she procedes to top herself. ONCE AGAIN she treats guy like trash as guy UNDERSTANDABLY didn’t want to talk to her after her previous layers of bullshit which, just as a refresher, involved insulting his invention constnatly (even if it turned out ot be dangerous she did not know that till the last second) then refusing to help a man BAKING in the desert and mocking him to his face. 
So yeah unsuprisingly instead of you know, APOLOGIZING for that episode or anything else she mocks him again and calls him sad. I just.. I get they were trying to have her come off as a jerk and then slowly develop.. but you can’t overdue the jerk part. It has to be juts the right amount and if it is this much there has to be a commpuance. There is none as far as I can tell because god is a spiteful two faced prick. 
So naturally Sam forces the two parties together, and orders green eggs and ham for everyone, except guy who refuses. We do get a really great bit though as EB turns down the idea and we get a tremendous rant from Micheal Douglas as he talks about how a girl in his clash, veyr likely just him, got a rash from tring new things and you shouldn’t and to watch out for the scarlet beetle he’ll steel your ants and try to conquer your planet and is not a guy in a costume but in fact an actual beetle. EB naturally tries it. 
We get a brief interlude with Snerz that’s funny enough: he outright calls his visotrs flunkies, they enter to the song money, and his minon throws dollar bills at their feet. I imagine this is what visitng Mar a Largo is like. They turn up his noses until he mentions getting a chickarffe for his animal crutelty wall. And i’m torn about Snerz. On one hand he can be generally entertaining in his dickery.. but ont he other I do question why he’s in EVERY episode. We don’t NEED him in eveyr one and I feel he’s only in them because Eddie Izzard was expensive so they had to get him as a regular to justify the cost. We really DONT’ need this scene funny as it is and it adds nothing so far. Maybe i’m wrong and these guys end up being important. I don’t know. 
So yeah so far this episode was miserable getting through and I expected it to be another long sit... I was wrong. The second half.. is really damn good and reminded me why I liked this series so much. No really. We get two stories,both really good following one half of each pair teaming up. As for why their split Guy is annoyed with Sam, as well as dosen’t want him letting the chickaraffe out because you know lots of people dosen’t want ot go to jail and leaves to find a quiet place to work on watching paint dry while Michelle tucks a sleeping EB in, her first really truly humanizing moment, which should NOT have taken three episodes but hey, i’ll take it, and goes to find the same.
So starting with Sam and EB, naturally Sam takes all of a minute to let his buddy out and it gets loose on top of the train. EB hears the familiar sound and gives chase and the two meet properly. After Sam covers for his buddy and realizes the creature is asleep in his car safe now, he properly talks to EB and we get a truly magical sequnece: The two talk with Sam whoelheartdly supporting her free spirit and finally giving the girl what she badly needed: someone who treated her not as something to be tied down but you know.. a child who just wants some expression and as she literally lets her hair down, It’s truly adorable and it just has a magical quanitity as they enjoy the beautiful view from the train top. 
Granted this takes at urn later when EB brings up her mom, and Sam.. supports her mom, pointing out she’s just looking out for her.. which she is but in a deeply unehalthy way and I don’t like the show just.. brushing over Michelle’s terrible actions because “she’s her mom”. But it’s also hard to tell if they are: Sam’s mom left him as we’ll find out, so he likely colors his memories of her rosey and simply envys EB still HAVING hers. It’s not BAD stuff but I don’t like a work saying “You should love your family just beacause your related”. Instead of because they lovea nd support you and if they dont’ love you or treat you remotely well or don’t give an ass about you fuck them. Thankfully I DO love my family and have no issues with them, my immediate family at least, but i’ve had friens with downright abusive or neglectful parents. It’s not that black and white. Ducktales also hammered in the family theme but was transparent in how it can me messy, harm each other and that it took true love and consideratoin for it to work at it’s core. 
It’s still not a terrible scene and what comes next is neat as earlier it was shown the train has loops, because Seussworld, and now that’s a problem because their on top of it. Michelle’s jail braclet thing ends up coming in handy the first loop, as while she can’t unstick it means she and sam can suririvie it. They do get it loose, turns out the password was indeed password, because of course, and they end up narrowly suriving a roller coaster bit of track, with the help of MR. Jenkins who I can finally name because EB names her in the next scene. Understanding her need for a pet, Sam deputizes her, and gets her back in bed in time for the next plot. 
Speaking of which winding back a bit as these two go back and forth, Guy goes through two rather hilarious cars: First a bath car that has a bubsby berkely style water number and then a model train car.. with the train on the track showing guy watching guy watchin gthe train etc. 
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It’s great. Guy ends up finding the quiet car.. and Michelle. And in her first scene of acting like a human being and not if julie powers was a soccer mom, Michelle, while standosfish as usual, not only unites with guy to shush a loud guy in the car, but is genuinely apricative when Guy helps her get her place back, she was doing some literal bean counting. 
The two genuinely hit it off, first with some adorable silent bits and then by talking, with Michelle appreciating his now safer job and warming up to him. Keaton and Douglas have GENUINE chemestry and it annoys me itt took the series this long to use that instead of wasting Diane Keaton on being 
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It’s really great stuff and i’m actually rooting for the two.. once she gets her shit together obviously. Guy does make the mistake of lying abotu knowing about the chikcaraffe.
This ends up being bad as he finds out EB knows the next day and after she leaves the car RIGHTFULLY tears the fuck into same for getting him accused of crime, stealing from him and now puttin ghim in a precarious situation. While Guy DID lie, he idd so well meaningly and trying to impress someone whose ineherntly judgmeental. Douglas also does REALY well in the scene, calling sam out but it dosen’t feel cruel.. it’s justified. While guy is miserable and does need to work on himself.. Sam also needs to work on himself and is putting guy in serious danger just by forcing him into his animal smuggling scheme. 
So Guy leaves.. and naturally given the unvierse hate shim runs into the BAD GUYZ, who aren’t much better. No really they refuse to belieive guy might be innocent, use excessive force on everyone. They have better GOALS than sam but I woudln’t really call them good people. Smash to black and we’re out. 
Final Thoughts:  This one was better. As I said the first half or rather third drags slightly but once we get to the two seperate plotlines it’s REALLY damn good stuff and reminded me what the series was capable of in character in creativity. Hopefully it keeps this up
Next Time on the Blog: We return to mewni for the penultimate chapter of season 3 as Moon and Eclipsa have some fundemtnal disgareemnts on how to handle Meteora that wind up costing both dearly. 
See you at the next rainbow
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yixxes · 4 years
Text
Anger Management | p.p.
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Warnings: Cursing, altercation w a stranger, y/n has a bit of an attitude/anger problem
Word count: 1722
A/N: The reader is Bucky’s younger sister which is like not possible but it’s fine. Enjoy (: 
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“Oh, go fucking fuck yourself!” 
“Hey!” Bucky gave you the look he always gave you when you stepped out of line and you rolled your eyes. You weren’t in the mood to be scolded but your brother obviously didn’t care. “Watch your mouth! The hell’s wrong with you?”
You spared him a two second scowl when he approached the couch, his curious frown trading in for realization and then quickly switching to disappointment. “Seriously? This is your problem?” 
Your brows furrowed and your lips jutted out in an annoyed grimace. “This game is stupid, he’s been cheating for the past eight rounds!”
Sam raised his hands with an amused smile on his face that you found beyond annoying. “Hey, I didn’t do anything, but look, I’ll apologize: I’m sorry you picked up the controller before you knew you couldn’t play.”
“Here,” your brother shoved you over and sat in your place before you could enlighten Sam with your colorful vocab and snatched up the controller from your hands. “let me kick his ass for you.”
Sam cackled at Bucky’s confidence and readied up another round. “Yeah, let’s see how far you get with that one.”
“I was playing with that.” You grumbled. 
“You’ll live.” 
You watched how your brother tapped different buttons and chose certain patterns and inwardly noted how it contrasted to your inarticulate button mashing. It always worked when you played with Steve, why would it not work with...
Crap.
Of course Steve let you win! “That bastard!”
“Y/n,” Bucky warned you firmly and you hated how he kept the button pattern going even when he took his eyes off the screen to stare you down. “seriously, watch your mouth. Who are you even talking about?”
“Come on, kid, I’ll apologize for real if that’s what you want.” 
“Not you,” you muttered to Sam. “Steve, he lets me win at this stupid game.” You turned to look at Steve who was on the other side of the couch, smiling guiltily at you.
“You’ll live.” Your brother said again, distracted. “Why don’t you go to the store, we need snacks.”
“Then go get them.”
Bucky paused the game with a sigh and turned to you after setting the controller down on the table. He fished his wallet out of his pocket and pulled out a few bills that he extended to you before nodding towards the hall that led to the door. Buck wasn’t asking and you weren’t trying him any further. 
“Ugh.” You snatched the money and got up from the couch, but you weren’t clear to go yet.
“Stay away from people and don’t go fighting with strangers again.”
What a gross assumption. “That was literally only two ti-”
“Don’t worry, I’ll go with her.” Peter came up and threw an arm around you. Your sisterly attitude towards your brother melted into a smile and butterflies. 
“Good, hey, make sure she doesn’t speed.”
“Got it!” He called over his shoulder, already making his way to the door with your hand in his.
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“I don’t get it.” 
Peter frowned and got to explaining the joke to you. “Because the ham sandwich is ordering the beer, but the bartender says-”
You pushed a loaf of bread off of the shelf and let it fall into the basket. “Why would a ham sandwich be ordering anything, it’s a ham sandwich-”
“It’s a joke,” he said pointedly. His attitude at the fact that you didn’t laugh at his joke was funnier than the joke itself. “Why are you laughing? Do you get it now?”
“Yup. ‘s really funny, baby, will you grab the coffee grounds, I’m gonna go get a bag of chips,” 
“Okay, wait for me by the chips, I’ll meet you there.” 
You nodded and leaned up and forward to kiss his puckered lips and then went off towards the chip aisle with the cart. As much as you were opposed to this shopping trip at first, you really enjoyed doing stuff like this with Peter. Anywhere else, there were eyes on you at all times. With the two of you being the babies of the group and Bucky picking up the overprotective trait that older brothers usually had, your privacy and alone time with Peter typically ranged from scarce to nonexistent. Going on little snack runs with him where you could hold hands and kiss without scrutiny was nice. It even made you think about how maybe sometime down the line you and Peter would have a shared place of your own and trips like these would occur much more frequently and that definitely made you smile.
Your smile was short lived, though, when some man stopped his cart right in the way of yours and decided that right then and there was a perfect opportunity to take a look at his phone. 
Breathe in through your nose, Bucky always instructed, and out through your mouth. It could’ve been an honest mistake. Maybe he didn’t see you there, you thought to yourself. So, with a polite but rigid smile, you spoke out to him. “’Scuse me, sir, I’m trying to get through.”
He turned to you with an annoyed expression, phone still in hand. He didn’t even look sorry. “And I’m trying to send a text. Some of you damn teenagers were never taught manners a day in your life.”
Manners!? You went over your words in your head and came up with zero reason why some middle aged prick was choosing to yank your chain like this. Your anger was already begging to be let out but you were trying hard to remember how condescending everybody had been back at the tower. They didn’t think you could make it back without blowing up on someone and you planned on proving them wrong.
“Your cart is in my way.” You returned firmly. 
“And your patience is just that thin, isn’t it?”
You stared at that man for a few painful seconds. Was he trying to fuck with you? For all of the time that he wasted being a dick without cause, he could’ve moved his cart and been done with you. Paranoia struck and you took a glance around the immediate area. Maybe the guys were here, lurking around to see how long you could hold out, but after a look around you realized how ridiculous that thought was. The guys weren’t here and this wasn’t a test. This guy was a douche and you were letting it slide but you weren’t sure you should’ve been. 
“Can you just move your freakin’ cart?” The ‘before I move it for you’ was as silent as the g in lasagna. What was he? 6′1, 6′2? You’d debunked and corrected taller, this would be a breeze. 
You quickly shook that thought from your head. You weren’t fighting this grown man. 
“Just go around!” He practically shouted.
“Go around where!? You’re blocking the-”
He yanked the front of you cart forward, pulled his back and pushed it into a display of croissants. “You’re welcome.” He said smugly. “Now will you please leave me alone?”
You blinked at the gaping empty space where your cart used to be and then looked up at him. To absolute hell with proving the guys wrong.
“Hey! I got the coffee grounds, did you grab the-”
“Screw you!” You screamed, reaching in his basket and grabbing the first thing that you laid your hand on and throwing it as far as you could. 
“What the hell!?”
Peter swooped in after you had already thrown a second thing out of the stranger’s cart and started pulling you away from the scene.
“You need to learn a thing or two about respect, little girl!” The guy was yelling after you, red in the face, stupid phone still in his stupid hand and the other in a fist on his hip. 
“Fuck off!” You screamed back, swiping a bag of cotton candy from an end stand, ready to chuck it at that man.
“Hey, hey,” Peter smacked a bag of cotton candy from your hand and continued lugging you away. “take a breath, take a breath. Let me handle this-”
“What’s going on here?” Naturally, the security guard stepped in at the perfect time. You looked like the crazy one, but in fact, it was the douchey middle aged man that started it and you were more than happy to explain that to security.
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"Can I have a retake?” 
So you had to get your pictures taken by security. You single-handedly landed yourself and Peter on this ridiculous list of people that couldn’t return to the store without adult supervision which was absolutely ridiculous. Even more ridiculous, the man told you that you couldn’t retake your picture.
“Fine.” You didn’t plan on coming back to this hot mess of a store anyways. 
Starting the car, you were more than happy to be in the safety of your vehicle, but you remembered that the two of you came out for a reason... and you left without a single one of those reasons. 
You ended up driving to another store that was just up the street and got back to the tower about an hour and a half after you left it.
“Where’d you go for the snacks, Australia?” 
You rolled your eyes at Sam’s sarcastic comment and set the one bag that Peter let you carry down on the table. While Peter set the rest down, you walked passed Tony (whose smile was far too big for your liking) and sat down on the couch. 
“How’d it go?” he asked.
Peter lied like a rug. “Good. We got a bargain on the coffee grounds, two for-”
“I got us banned from the store unless we have adult supervision.” You were dejected. This never would’ve happened had you just let that man be stupid by himself. 
Bucky hit pause on the game and looked over at you like he was beyond ready to scold you. “You what?” 
“Ten.” Peter finished like he hadn’t even stopped. “There was a coupon that we actually found on the floor, luckily it wasn’t expired-”
“Kid, will you be quiet!?” Bucky’s mean mug could scare almost anybody into silence. You watched your boyfriend shrink into himself before your brother turned back to you. “This explanation better be good.”
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