#slow I read

[niobiumao3]

The thing about teaching kids reading and writing in school is, I do think more schools could stand to intersperse the classics with some modern YA/juve fic, because

Keeping kids interested is important to helping them learn. That's easier if they're engaged, and they will engage more readily with popular stories. There are plenty of good popular stories, just like there are shitty classics.

Compare and contrast is a GREAT way to introduce them to ideas like unreliable narrators, protagonists you're not necessarily intended to like, narrative styles, etc.

You have to teach someone HOW to read critically/with intent. it's not something most people just know how to do. And you can do that with any text; arguably, they'll take to it more readily if it's something they want to read. Then getting them to apply it to something they're less engrossed in as a learning exercise is less like getting blood from a stone.

You don't have to throw the baby out with the bathwater. This doesn't have to be Divergent 'instead of' 1984. It's 'Divergent and 1984, tell me things that you feel they had in common and did not, explain how the explored themes of governmental control and how this damages society as a whole and individuals in particular'.

If the only books you're letting them read is a curated list from 30+ years ago, you have to expect pushback and shouldn't be shocked when they're like 'why can't I examine [popular series actually aimed at them here] instead'.

[nondelphic]

me: i love slow burn

also me, on chapter 2: kiss or i’m setting the house on fire

[calmparticles]

like glue ?

[roppiepop]

Who’s coming to the cookout?

[the-sheepish-reader]

I feel guilty whenever it takes me a while to read a book. Then I remember it doesn't matter how long it takes me to read it. Reading slow isn't bad.

[ahopefulbromantic]

What do you find patriotic about the themes of In Stars and Time?

Yayayay thank you for this question anon! I have SO MANY THOUGHTS!!!

I hope this won't get too long sorry in advance for the whole huge essay heh

I think first we need to get into what patriotism actually is. Because what some seem to propose is that it is only “supporting the political interests of a country you're a citizen of” which is not actually true or “glorifying it to the point of warping into nationalism and chauvinism”, which is extrremely untrue and frankly bonkers??? No, patriotism is love for your country, for your nation, for your people. And by extension, for your culture, your language, your history (loving means admitting to the dark sides of it btw), your home, all of it. It doesn't mean your national food, music, etc. have to be your favorite in the world, but it does mean you find value in them, you want to preserve and remember them, you want what’s best for them. (I love my brother. He gets on my nerves so much i wanna strangle him sometimes. You get the idea) so sorry if it's all obvious to you but i thought it needed to be clarified just in case

ISAT as a whole but especially Odile, Siffrin, and the King’s character arcs pose a question: how much of yourself is influenced by your origins? This topic is explored in many various forms, woven into the flesh of the narrative, ever-present (the differences and customs between countries a recurring topic in the party’s conversations, for example). The cultural exploration is often what drives the plot forward.

(Also the use of national religions is so great, it adds a yet another perspective to the problem, but it’s a whole nother can of worms for a whole nother day!)

While the Country is used mainly as the vehicle for themes of loss and loneliness, the so-called "Homesickness" (“Mal du Pays”),

its national aspect is never undermined. This is, among other themes, a story about being denied the connection to your roots, after all. If you think about it, the whole plot happened because of it, is undivorceable from it, and arguably serves to show how horrible such a thing might be.

This is also a brilliant way to explore what being a “country” means - it's not just about some territorial politics or conservative history classes. It's the whole environment you grow in as a human being.

The King and Siffrin are juxtaposed here as narrative foils, the King acting as a fallen Siffrin: now this is especially interesting, because in every other story like this i'd expect the King to be a chauvinist. But… surprisingly, he’s not. He is a patriot, in a sense. He does love his country and he does love Vaugarde, his actions are not motivated by a political self-righteousness, they are motivated by a love warped into obsession by fear. Don’t get me wrong, he is an irredeemable villain, but he’s as much a victim here. He isn’t condemned by the narrative. He gets his wish granted in the end (wishcraft and the Universe? add it to the aforementioned can of worms, not today but boy do i have things to say), he gets to remember his homeland. He gets justice, both in the form of punishment and compensation.

Siffrin nearly ends up like him, but doesn’t - not because he decides to abandon and forget his country forever! but because in being loved by his family he finds strength to conquer the fear of losing everything again. It’s a fine line, but i think insertdisc5 navigated it masterfully. Check out how Sif's internal monologue changes in regards to the Island. He has a history of running away from the painful things and thus not working on his massive trauma (one could make a case that the rewinds when he remembered his past weren't actually caused by the Universe but by him but again, worms. in a can.). But now in act 6 he finally stops looking away:

and you might even imagine a fondness in his eyes.

By the way, here's a tiny personal digression: i 100% believe that there are some nationalities that will inevitably be hit harder by this narrative than others - one of those being Polish. Which i happen to be! Now lemme tell you, at some point in act 3 i thought: "huh. i, too, am from a country that disappeared once". But it didn't really disappear now, did it. So then i thought, what if it had, and i were the only one left and i, too, couldn't remember anything? And then my heart weeped, and i grieved inside a little, and made a fanart, and didn't feel better afterwards. Yay!

But you know what? There's a cool quote from Shang-Chi saying: "you are a product of all who came before you" - and your own unique characteristics, one should add after Odile. Your past, and i mean the generations upon generations before you as well, is a part of who you are, whether you like it or not. We see it in Siffrin. No matter how the wishcraft tries to erase it, it can't. Because one way or another, he will remember. He will love the stars and know basic astronomy, he will be able to use wishcraft, he will dress in his ethnic clothes, he will love malanga and cheese samosas, he will instinctively swear in his language. It's a part of him:

And maybe that's what's actually the most patriotic aspect of ISAT's narrative - that you can't erase it. As much as you try, you will never be able to fully succeed. Because there are people who love it, still. Even if they will never remember it. After all:

[the---hermit]

I am not saying here's a link to a free online version of the 1984 graphic novel but if it was there you should probably go read it.

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Alignment of Navigators.

[First] Prev <–-> Next

[brandirecognition]

watched all of apothecary diaries over the past couple weeks

[nekrosmos]

I know 0 things about Rugby but I had to put Price in situations after reading this fic by @on-a-lucky-tide , the man was made for tiny shorts, come on

[welcometogrouchland]

[ID in ALT] I've made posts before about Talia/Dick co-parenting Damian moments (will never happen but let me dream) and this came to me in a vision. Took me ages to finish for some reason 😭 and then even longer to post

[akimao]

Fishman-zoro for mermay!!

🌊🐟

The beautiful design is by @vidrith

There is also a nice fic to read! (you know which fic I'm talking about)

Riptide by @summerofspock

I REALIZED NOW THAT I POSTED THE WRONG FILE!!!🫣🫣🫣

Fixed the error

Here Zoro has his beautiful scar

[bluatorto]

have been reading Les Mis

[its-kinda-snowy]

Dan! Dan- stop fighting me- I have just made an incredible leap in our serum you must see it.

[myokk]

marry me

pairing: Sebastian Sallow x f!MC

word count: 5,4k

summary: in which Garreth Weasley has a potions mishap that causes MC to become incomprehensibly proper, and Sebastian is going mad.

cw: fluff, mutual pining, giant squid guest appearance, marriage proposal, loss of virginity RATED M (not *really* explicit) smut (18+ ONLY)

a/n: I had so much fun writing this! I've been working on it since January (I'm the world's slowest writer) and shout out to the amazing girl in my ao3 comments who requested this!! 🫶​

If Sebastian Sallow could curse Garreth Weasley and get away with it, he would.

Unfortunately, after an incident involving Prewett and some misplaced toads, he's being monitored too closely by staff and students alike. Staff, so that it won't happen again, and students in the hope that they will see something and gain the prestige of being the ones to tell everyone else about it. It seems to Sebastian as if students of the red-headed Gryffindor variety are out to get him and make his life an absolute miserable living hell, and he is not happy about it.

That weaselly red-headed bastard had, once again, created a potion whose effects had gone disastrously wrong. This time, he had convinced her that it would alter her memory for 'only a day!', to give her an easier time retaining information so that exams would be easier for her. Their NEWTs are causing the seventh-year students to have periodic nervous breakdowns, and hers had apparently manifested in believing Weasley. Although Sebastian had, time and time again, tried convincing her that it didn't matter if sometimes they had to go over notes a few times before she truly understood them, she had always had a complex about it. If Sebastian had known that Weasley was going to rope her into being the test subject of his latest experiment, he would have tried to put a stop to it.

Sebastian surreptitiously looks over to the girl at his side.

Her head is bent down, dark hair shining in the late-afternoon sunlight as she quietly reads a book at his side. They're sitting on the shore of the Black Lake, it's one of those unusually warm spring days where one could fool themselves into believing it's already summer, and as he stares down at her Sebastian can't help but think of what they would normally be up to. Well, normally as of a few weeks ago.

Sebastian hasn't been able to touch her in two weeks, and he is going mad.

She drags a delicate finger across the words as she reads, her dark lashes fanning out across her cheeks as her eyes follow her finger, plump lips moving slightly as she occasionally whispers the extra-beautiful sounding words to herself.

Well, he could touch her, in theory, hypothetically, but she won't allow it.

She is hell-bent on keeping things as proper as possible between the two of them, and even holding eye contact with Sebastian for too long is seemingly enough to make her so hot and bothered that she can't even speak in his presence. (Sebastian once again curses Garreth.) He slowly, casually, brings his hand closer to where hers is, gently brushing his pinky against hers. Her whole body tenses, she immediately colors and glances up at him, and Sebastian's breath catches in his throat at the sight of the sun glinting in her eyes, the light giving them more depth.

(He can't help but think of a time a few weeks ago, where they were both fumbling with the buttons of each others' shirts, nervous and excited with the feelings that only new love can bring, her eyes glinting similarly and yet mischievous, as if daring him to continue his exploration of her -)

Carefully, she moves her hand away and drags her eyes back to her novel. He hears her murmur, and leans in closer to see what she's saying, the light scent of lavender floating up to him as his breath brushes past her ear: "He's more myself than I am. Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same."

After reading this, she looks at him again and smiles. "That's us, is it not?"

Sebastian gives her a small smile and leans back. Although she's made it abundantly clear that her feelings for him haven't changed at all, she's loathe to let them manifest physically. It would remind Sebastian of the beginning of their feelings for each other, their courtship, had she not acted the complete opposite before, seemingly not being able to get enough of him.

And now, thanks to Weasley, it seems as though their relationship has somehow regressed. Instead of altering her memory for a day, to help her with studying, her personality has somehow been altered.

She's still the same sweet girl he fell in love with. She's always quick to make him laugh with a quip in Transfiguration spoken under her breath, still exasperatingly stubborn about her strange opinions about, well, everything, still obsessed with the lemon tarts served during meals.

The night she had fallen victim to Garreth's experiment, Sebastian had sidled up to her after dinner, placing a hand on her waist and pulling her close so they could steal away and continue their previous night's activities. But, strangely enough, she had squealed and pushed him away, her face flushing a brilliant shade of pink as she looked at him, aghast. Sebastian, she had said, unable to make eye contact with him, what are you doing?

He had been utterly confused himself, somewhat embarrassed at the rejection, and when she continued on about marriage and betrothal and a proper courtship he had felt his whole body go hot and cold at the same time as his throat heated up. Although he can't possibly imagine spending his life with anyone else, although it's a given that she is always a part of any nebulous future he's envisioned for himself, the thought of a commitment of that magnitude is enough to make his heart drop into his stomach. He feels too young to propose, and yet he knows it will happen.

Eventually. Just not now.

He hears a snicker come from behind them and he sighs in resignation. Ominis and Anne have been acting as chaperones during their time spent together, and the two of them find their friend's new-found propriety endlessly hilarious. He admits that he's found it funny, too, and when he's not so frustrated he loves teasing her. There's something so sweet about the way her cheeks flush, how she sputters in indignation when he insinuates anything - Sebastian has to wonder how Garreth's potion has made her interpret their previous intimacies.

She's back to reading silently and Sebastian settles in for another afternoon of hushed whispers, laughter, reading, and decidedly no touching.

She smiles dreamily at her reflection in the mirror as she and Anne get ready for bed that evening. The soft green light filtering through the windows of their dorm room reminds her of the light that had filtered through the leaves that afternoon as she sat at Sebastian's side. "He was so handsome today, wasn't he?"

"You wouldn't be saying that if you'd had to look at his ugly face your whole life," grumbles Anne, finishing her braid with a neat ribbon at the end before turning to her friend. She doesn't hear a word Anne says, instead choosing to stare carefully at her reflection, blushing over the remembrance of Sebastian these last few weeks. The time spent with him has been nothing short of exquisite, and she can feel herself falling more and more in love with him - every stolen glance, the brushing of fingers as they read the same page in a book, the feeling of him leaning in close over her shoulder, his breath tickling the top of her ear and - "Anyways," says Anne, a little more forcefully, snapping her fingers in front of the mirror, "when are you going to let him hold your hand? Might I remind you of what I've caught the two of you doing before? The sight made me want to rip out my eyeballs and feed them to a venomous tentacula and -"

She flushes and looks over at Anne, appalled. How could she joke about something that must have been confessed by accident?

"Anne!" she hisses, looking around frantically to make sure nobody has entered their dorm, "stop being so improper."

The truth is, she doesn't know how much truth is behind Anne's teasing. Her memories from before she took that fated potion from Garreth are cloudy at best, and she prefers to think of them as dreams she's been having lately. Terribly indecent dreams where the object of her every waking thought is doing things to her she never thought possible.

In a moment of weakness she must have confessed something to Anne.

Turning back to her reflection in the mirror: grabbing her hairbrush: trying to tame her unruly curls: steadfastly ignoring Anne pretending to gag behind her. She is over their conversation, especially when Anne is so keen to bring up things she would rather forget. (At least, that's what she tells herself. She gets horribly confused and flustered whenever she thinks of Sebastian in that way.)

But maybe: "I will allow him to hold my hand tomorrow," she says with a sniff, turning towards Anne. Her eyes narrow as she sees her friend stifle a smile before quickly turning towards her bed.

She finds it difficult to fall asleep that night, between blissful remembrances of the dreams she's been trying to forget and the beating of her heart as she thinks about a future with Sebastian and letting him finally hold her hand.

He slips a note to her during Charms.

Dust particles are swirling in the air, Professor Ronan is unusually dull, and the hot summer sun streaming through the windows is just another reminder that they are almost free. Almost done with Hogwarts, almost ready to start the next chapter of their lives and become who they were always meant to be. She can't deny that she's been terribly worried about what's to come - she still is unsure what she wants to do after graduation, and feels her stomach drop whenever she hears the others talk excitedly about the opportunities they've lined up; the only constant in her life is the boy at her side who has been unusually patient with her.

And yet he still hasn't made it clear to her that she is as important to him as he is her. Yes, he is carrying her bag from class to class, reading with her every nice afternoon by the Black Lake, showing her he cares with every gesture, but still:...she can't be sure of how he feels. What if it is all perfunctory? She doesn't want to be forgotten. She loves the little routines they've created for themselves, loves sitting by his side during classes, passing notes; she's loved her short time at Hogwarts and doesn't want to end it yet.

The note is one of many they've been sending back and forth throughout the course of this terribly boring theory class, but this time is different.

His hand is resting on top of the bench between the two of them, note underneath, and were she not so in-tune to his infuriatingly intoxicating presence, she wouldn't have noticed it. He moves with the ease of someone who has been avoiding being caught for many years. And, in the hazy memories (or are they?) she has of her past with Sebastian, the notes the two of them have sent back and forth to each other have not always been so tame.

Surreptitiously, so as not to draw the attention of Professor Ronan (she does not want a scandal), the sound of her blood rushing in her ears as she thinks about what she's about to do, she slowly slides her hand toward Sebastian's - the one resting on top of his note. He starts moving his hand away - he's learned by now to not play any games - but she's faster.

It feels like all of her nerves are located in her fingers as she grazes the back of his freckled hand. She can feel him staring at her in surprise, but she doesn't dare look up at him.

She continues.

Her fingers flutter over his, hesitating, until she gets up her nerve and laces her fingers through his, pressing their palms together. She hears his breath hitch and warmth pools to her stomach at the sound as she finally glances at him. He's looking at her with the most dumbstruck expression on his face and...and her own must mirror his.

She flushes and looks away, but doesn't remove her hand - all she can think about is the feeling of her heartbeat thrumming through her body (can he feel its nervous flutter through her fingertips?), how right the contact feels, and how has she not done this before? But, the nerves she feels are so intense and overwhelming and she doesn't concentrate on Professor Ronan's words for the rest of the lesson.

Sebastian sits, flushed, notes forgotten - even as he leans into the palm of his other hand, trying to look anywhere but at her, she can feel the intensity of his gaze every time his eyes swipe over to her and it's unbearable.

But the thought of letting go of him is even worse.

The morning of the penultimate Saturday before their N.E.W.T.s has Sebastian understandably nervous. He's risen early even for himself - 1 hour and 38 minutes early, to be exact - unable to sleep with everything racing through his mind (equations, charms, precise wand movements, and her) - and has already written down his plan in tiny, neat handwriting, gotten dressed, and has had ample time to worry himself to an early grave.

Ominis has listened to Sebastian for the better part of an hour as he paces back and forth across their dorm, probably creating a tiny, worn-down path in the rugs with his persistence. Sebastian's sure his friend is tuning his ramblings out by now, but he can't help it.

Everything needs to turn out perfectly, and, although he knows that he tends to simultaneously overthink and ruin everything he attempts, this time he cannot. He's been practicing this speech over and over in his mind for days now, had started composing the beginning phrases in his mind weeks, maybe even years ago - maybe since she knocked him to the ground in their first duel at Crossed Wands and taken his breath away.

Of course, back then he hadn't quite realized what was going on - or that it would shape the rest of his life.

He had just known that he wanted to keep her close, by any means possible, whatever that might entail. And with all they've been through together: turning to each other for comfort and understanding after everything that happened their fifth year, the hushed confessions of love that came eventually, their first awkward, lovely kiss and everything that followed - even all of their little squabbles and misunderstandings have brought them closer - Sebastian knows now with certainty that she will be in his life forever and he's been a fool to be so scared of what's to come.

"Did you hear me?"

Ominis shifts in his seat and huffs. "I stopped listening the second I heard of your plan and I've been mentally reciting the uses of flobberworm mucous since then. It's about time, you know. I don't know what's taken you so long."

"You really think so?"

"I know so. Now," Ominis gets to his feet and stops Sebastian from his pacing, clasping his hand. "You know what you need to do, and we'll be waiting to congratulate you when it's all said and done. Maybe we can all go out for a butterbeer in Hogsmeade later on."

(Little did Sebastian know, that would decidedly not happen.)

He nods, anxious despite his friend's support, and heads towards the door. He glances one last time at Ominis before leaving, almost reassured by the sight of him sitting at his desk, back straight, as his fingers slide over the pages of his book. Today marks the beginning of many changes that are about to come to Sebastian Sallow's life, but he can't deny it's comforting to see that some things are still the same.

Step One: Bribe the House-Elves

Sebastian steals into the Kitchens after tickling the pear in the painting guarding its entrance, and is immediately surrounded by a sea of bobbing heads at roughly the height of his waist, huge eyes blinking up at him. He looks beyond them; the whole kitchen is bustling and swarming with house-elves running around with purpose, bowls and whisks and bags of flour and sugar in their tiny hands, not wasting a single move as they prepare breakfast for all of the students.

"What does the young man need?" squeaks a house-elf with particularly hairy ears, grabbing him by the elbow.

In the end, Sebastian leaves the kitchens with more than he had bargained for, no bribes necessary.

He curses himself for never taking advantage of the kitchens before his last week of his final year of school, stuffing leftover pastries in his pockets after meals like a fool, when he could have done this all along. Well, either way, he now has plenty of baguettes - twenty-five to be exact - slung in a bag over his shoulder as he goes to greet the object of his affection. He checks his watch - shit - how is he five minutes late? - and he picks up the pace to the Clock Tower Courtyard, patting his breast-pocket to make sure that the tiny ring embossed with garnets is still in its place.

Step Two: Meet her in the courtyard at 8.00 am sharp (having previously sent her an owl invitation the week before to make sure she wouldn't make any other plans) (ignoring the fact that she is normally sleeping at this time on a Saturday morning)

Sebastian skids to a halt as he reaches the courtyard, looking around for her tell-tale wild curls, and doesn't see her yet. He's only seven minutes late - that's not enough for her to stop waiting is it? - and yet, at her absence, he begins to despair that he's ruined everything. Catastrophically ruined things like the huge, bumbling, idiot he is, and what's he going to do with all of these baguettes now? Eat them? Oh, Merlin, maybe he needs to head back to the Kitchens and get some butter, jam, brie, marmalade -

"Sorry I'm late." A breathless voice interrupts his spiral. His head snaps over to where he's heard her voice and the bubble of his despair bursts, but his nerves are still setting his body on fire. She is absolutely breathtaking, the golden light of the early morning sun glinting in her hair, dancing down the slope of her nose and lighting up her eyes in the way that makes them golden-tinged and deep and beautiful.

Step Two-and-a-Half (improvised): Remember how to breathe

Taking in a few deep breaths really does help ground him, although he can't really tear his eyes away from her face, nor can he forget why he's asked her to meet up with him.

Step Three: Escort her down to the Black Lake, where Anne has (hopefully, she was bribed to help out otherwise the fact that she had a dream about Leander will be accidentally told to Sacharissa) left a basket

As they walk down to the Black Lake, Sebastian can tell she's mystified. Their usual chaperones - Anne and Ominis - are absent, and it's just the two of them. They haven't been alone together since the night before she took Garreth's potion and became incomprehensibly proper.

He swallows nervously and glances over to her. She's been chattering to fill up the silence: "...of course, I told Imelda she was daft if she didn't understand how ridiculous it was..."

And, just at the sound of her sweet voice, he feels little bubbles of happiness fill his chest as if he's just drunk a bottle of pumpkin fizz. He can't help it - he reaches over and laces his fingers through hers. She stops speaking abruptly and flushes; birdsong fills the absence of her voice and her eyes flicker to the bag he has hoisted over his shoulder. "By the way, what are you keeping in there?"

Sebastian just gives her a crooked smile he knows will fluster her more, squeezes her hand, and is grateful she's only noticed the huge bag stuffed with baguettes and not the slight bulge in the pocket of his waistcoat. His heart is fit to burst out of his chest as he thinks of what's to come, but focusing on ways to make her splutter in indignation and step four of his plan is helping him to ground himself.

"That's for me to know and you to find out."

Slowly, he brings her hand up to his mouth and turns it at the last minute, pressing a kiss to her inner wrist. All of a sudden the atmosphere has changed: her breath falters at the contact, her eyes are wide and unblinking as she stares up at him and the expression on her face is enough to obliterate any thoughts from Sebastian's own mind; quite dangerous, really. His earnestness turns into a smirk and he brings his mouth to the palm of her hand, brushing his lips over it. He knows he's pushing things too far and -

"Sebastian!" she squeals, ripping her hand out of his, and Sebastian takes the opportunity to run ahead, "Wait for me!" - laughing as he leads her on an overgrown path towards their destination. He turns to look back at her, face flushed, a huge smile taking over her face, nose crinkling as she laughs, hair and robes flowing behind her as she tries to keep up with him. How has he gotten so lucky as to have her in his life?

He knows that he hasn't always been easy to get along with. Their fifth year, he had made things impossibly difficult for her, for everyone, and yet she had always stayed by his side. Trusting that he would come to his senses and somehow, with her help, he has.

Even with his nerves, he's never felt more sure of anything in his life than what he has planned now.

Sebastian Sallow is a quite perplexing. That's what she thinks, anyways, as she stares down at his broad back. He's bent over a picnic basket that's sitting in a clearing by the shore of the lake. She's never seen this part of the Grounds before and takes some time to look around while Sebastian finishes whatever he's doing.

He couldn't have picked a more beautiful day to sequester her away. Maybe fate has conspired to make it one she will remember for the rest of her life. It's one of those days when nature seems to be singing: the plants vibrantly green and dappled early sunlight filtering through the leaves, birds flitting from branch to branch above them, chattering and chirping to one another. And the lake, oh, the lake is beautiful. Still and unmoving, its water a deep green; she thinks once again (as she has been all of these last days at Hogwarts) how much she loves this, and how much she will miss it.

Sebastian Sallow is also infuriating.

He still hasn't told her why he has brought her all the way here, with a satchel stuffed with bread, making her wake up so early to meet up with him. 'It is of tantamount importance that you are available...' he had written in the note left for her a week ago, but the urgency was unnecessary. Even when she has no idea what he's planned, she can't help but say yes, can't help but want to be close to him always.

The feeling of his breath brushing against the palm of her hand is still burning bright-hot and she is scared to move her fingers lest it go away. Ever since she laced her fingers through his in Charms class two weeks ago, he's been finding excuses to try and get closer to her and she's simultaneously excited and scared every time they touch. This is the first time they've been alone together without her protection - Anne and Ominis - she's unsure if she trusts herself or Sebastian less, but she has to be free of them eventually.

"Well," he says, breaking her out of her reverie, "I think it's all in order." He leans back on his haunches and looks up at her, giving her the small smile that always makes her stomach flutter.

"But what is this all for?"

She gestures at the blanket he's spread out between them, at the baguettes he's pulling out of his bag, and huffs in frustration. She does not like being kept in the dark, and the expectations she had been building in her mind ever since she got his letter were not matching up to whatever's going on.

"We're going to feed the giant squid, silly." Sebastian stands up suddenly, holding one of the baguettes, and launches it into the lake. It floats there for a minute - tiny waves rippling across the smooth water from the impact - and then, as it slowly starts sinking, a huge tentacle shoots out of the water and grabs it, pulling it underneath.

She laughs in delight as she sees more tentacles come up to the surface of the water, searching for more bread. For as much disgust as she had for it her first year at Hogwarts, she's come to grow fond of the giant squid, even sometimes daring to tickle its tentacles with Imelda on sunny afternoons when they need a break from studying.

Now, Sebastian's handing a baguette to her, his fingers brushing against hers and she shivers at the contact, her eyes flicking up to his, uncertain. He doesn't pull away; instead wrapping sure fingers around hers as he guides her to the shore. Her back is flush against his chest as he guides her to throw the baguette, but she doesn't even see it hit the water. The feeling and heat of his body pressed against hers is all-encompassing and she turns around slowly - so slowly - and...

Sebastian brings his fingers up to caress the line of her jaw, then brush over her lips, her cheekbone, tuck a lock of hair behind her ear, tug the hair at her scalp and pull her face closer to his. Her eyes flutter closed as his breath warms her lips - is this really, finally happening? - and the first hesitant, sweet brush of his lips against hers is almost enough to cause her to faint. If his other arm wasn't wrapping around her waist, pulling her closer to him, she's positive she would have fallen as her knees threaten to buckle. Hesitant hands come up to grab the front of Sebastian's robes as their kiss deepens and yet before she knows it - before she wants it to end - Sebastian is pulling away from her with a sheepish smile, pressing his forehead against hers and breathing heavily.

"That was..."

But then -

She feels something slimy snake itself around her ankle, wrapping around before she's pulled backwards into the water with a shriek. She sees Sebastian's shocked face, arms reaching out hands scrabbling as he tries to grab her before she can be pulled into the water, but it's futile.

She's really not dragged that far into the water.

Once the squid realizes she has no more bread on her person, it retreats back to the deeper water it came from.

Maybe she wasn't pulled very far into the lake, but it's still enough to have all of her clothes completely and utterly drenched and she is mortified. As she sputters and staggers to her feet, pushing her heavy, wet hair out of her face, she sees Sebastian splashing towards her.

His face is absolutely flabbergasted and concerned for her and full of love and she forgets all of her annoyance at being wet as she sees him make his way to where she is. "Are you -?"

Sebastian is cut off as she throws herself at him, wrapping her arms around his neck, pulling his face down to hers as she peppers it with kisses. He almost loses his balance, but quickly recovers and gathers her in his arms, easily returning her vigor. She can't get enough of him; she knows she's being greedy as she deepens their kiss, but she feels as if she's woken from a deep slumber and is alive again.

Her whole body is so, so sensitive: his fingertips feel electric as they dance across her back, her waist, as if they're drawing all of her nerves to wherever they touch. Maybe it's the sensation of her wet clothes dragging across her delicate skin, maybe it's the months of pent-up frustration with herself for not being able to touch him.

He pulls away slightly, laughing, as he takes in her appearance. She must look like a drowned kneazle, hair-wild-face-flushed-eyes-gleaming, and yet there is nothing but love in his eyes when Sebastian looks at her. He grabs her hand and leads her to the shore, where they've left the picnic basket. They're both laughing as they splash through the water, fingers intertwined.

She sits down and begins to unlace her wet boots, peel off her stockings, Sebastian following suit, and once she plops the wet boots down next to her she huffs and looks at him fondly. "Well, was that part of your plan?"

Sebastian shakes his head and he looks so dejected that she simply has to lean over and kiss him. She pulls away slightly, lips brushing against his as she smiles and whispers, "I don't care." The feeling of his breath against her lips is too intoxicating and she simply has to close the minuscule distance between them again. Sebastian seemingly can't help himself either, because in no time his hand comes up to caress her face, her jaw, buries itself in the thick hair at the nape of her neck, and he's deepening the kiss.

She's gasping into his mouth, needing more, remembering the last time they kissed all those months ago - how has it been months? - and she breaks away briefly, staring into his eyes. His pupils are dilated, hers must match - "Sebastian?" she whispers against his lips, "What happened?"

He brings his hand back to her face, eyes searching hers as he looks for some answer she doesn't know if she can provide. "I..." he shakes his head slightly, smiling, "it's not important." As they kiss again, she sighs happily into his mouth - she missed this. Her hands come up to grasp at the back of his head, tugging him, pulling him closer to her, and she deepens the kiss.

She feels her stomach clench in an unfamiliar way as Sebastian gasps into her mouth - "Merlin, I've missed this, I didn't know..." - and she is certain that this will be a moment of her life she will always remember.

She will always remember how he - almost nervously, shy in a way she has never seen him before - brings her to the picnic blanket they'd abandoned. They will laugh as they try to peel her soaking wet clothes off, Sebastian's fingers fumbling as he works the buttons on her blouse; the first tentative brush of his lips against her bare collarbone will make her shiver with anticipation.

They will both be breathless between kisses, between exploring each others' bodies, between the gasps of devotion they breathe to each other. Every drag of Sebastian's fingers down her waist, her hips, will send jolts of pure magic through her body, how could anything feel so good? - and she will arch her back towards him, craving more.

His hands will be everywhere on her skin all at once, her mouth on his mouth, the feelings and sensations burning through her until there is only the two of them in that moment, their limbs tangled and their breathing synchronized as they move together.

It will be needy, and messy, and awkward, and full of laughter. When they join, it will feel like a finally.

And afterwards, when they are lying lazily-peacefully-quietly together, tracing fingers over still-sensitive skin, wrapped up in a haze of love and tangled limbs and feeling at peace, she will notice a bulge in the breast pocket of Sebastian's discarded waistcoat.

He will watch her reach over, curious, a small smile playing on his lips as she pulls out the tiny box. Her breath will catch in her throat and her fingers will be trembling as she tries to open it, before Sebastian takes over and opens it for her.

It won't be the perfect proposal he had planned, but it will be perfect in its own way and tears will be inexplicably falling down her face as she smiles and says 'yes' over and over until it loses meaning.

[lunacias]

"Phainon sobs and presses his face into Cyrene’s shoulder, hiding. The card she had been holding has fallen from her slack fingers, its surface turned up to the heavens. It is stained with blood and crowned with corrosion, and it reads deliverance." - redshift, by @bittersweetresilience