#Exasperation is thy name

[apalestar]

Yesterday, I accidentally swallowed some fabric dye. The doctor says I’m okay, but I feel like I’ve dyed a little inside. (Halsin)

@never-surrender starting with the dad jokes

Here Astarion almost thought he had cause for concern over Halsin's ability to think rationally. Then, the elf finished his 'joke'. He groaned and resisted, barely, the urge to roll his eyes.

"I almost prefer the bear jokes at this point."

[janeyseymour]

Love Thy Neighbor again because I can't get over it. Mel introduces reader and Ellie to her family, the reader is a nervous mess and Mels Grandma and Ellie become besties with Ellie proudly stating that she's an honorary schemmenti and making Mel start to think about making reader a official schemmenti 💜

I got you, but know that this has spawned a new little mini-series within this verse

Love Thy Neighbor, Two Families Become One- pt 1

You honestly don’t really know how you’ve made it this far without meeting Melissa’s side of the family. She’s met your parents, and they absolutely adore her. You remember how that meeting went- Melissa was an absolute nervous wreck, and Ellie couldn’t understand why for the life of her.

“Mel,” your little girl had rolled her eyes playfully at the redhead as she twirled around in her dress. “You’re bein’ silly. It’s just Grandma and Grandpa.”

“Just nervous,” Melissa told your daughter. “I want them to like me.”

“They will,” Ellie promised your girlfriend. “Because Momma loves you, and I love you, and that’s all that care about.”

The redhead looked at your daughter with soft warm eyes. “Thanks, El. But I still have to do my best to impress.”

The three of you made your way across town to your parents house, and as you climbed out of the car, Ellie attached herself to Melissa.

“Up, please,” the little girl asked quietly as she raises her arms up.

Of course, the second grade teacher immediately obliged your daughter’s request before taking a deep breath and walking up with you to the front door.

“It’s okay,” Ellie squeezed Melissa just the slightest bit tighter and pressed a kiss to her cheek in hopes of calming the woman’s nerves.

The redhead just gave a tight, nervous smile before turning her attention to the door that had just whipped open to reveal both of your parents.

Your parents engulfed you in hugs, acting as if they hadn’t seen you in forever when it had really only been a few weeks.

“And this must be Melissa,” your father looked your girlfriend up and down with a stone face.

“I am,” the redhead smiled nervously. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

Your dad stuck out his hand and shakes your girlfriend’s sternly.

“Pop, stop trying to scare Mel!” Ellie giggled. She whispered in Melissa’s ear conspiratorially, “Pop is like a teddy bear, he’s tryin’ really hard to be scary.”

That got your father to break out into a grin as he reached for your little girl’s belly to tickle. “Ellie! You can’t give me up that easily! The name’s Frank, and the ol’ lady next to me is-”

“Frank!” your mother batted at your father playfully before smiling to your girlfriend. “Rita,” your mother introduced herself. “Don’t listen to a word that man says. Ellie is right, he’s just a big teddy bear.”

“Play nice, Dad,” you rolled your eyes as you stepped into the house that you had grown up in. “Is dinner ready? I’m starving.”

“Some things never change with you, kid,” you father chuckled. “It’s on the table and ready.

Dinner with your family was pleasant. Ellie made sure to highlight just about every wonderful thing there was to say about Melissa and state just how much she adored your girlfriend.

“Pop! Did you know that Mel teaches with Momma? Did you know that Mel pushes me on the swings and takes videos of me when I go down the slide?! She’s just the best,” Ellie gushed.

  And by the end of the night, Melissa had gotten the stamp of approval from both of your parents. 

“See?” Ellie exasperates as Melissa buckles her into the carseat to head back to your apartment complex. “I told you there wasn’t anything to worry about.”

“I think you were a big help,” your girlfriend chuckled. “Thank you, little girl.”

“Gram and Pop would be…” she lowers her voice. “Stupid… if they didn’t like you.”

“Elizabeth,” you raise a brow as you turn in your seat to look at her.

Your daughter just shrugs. “I’m just bein’ honest, Momma.”

You chuckle. “Okay, little girl.”

But now that you were going to meet Melissa’s family, take those nerves that Melissa had felt previously, and multiply it by ten.

You’re in the middle of putting your face on in the bathroom when Melissa comes in.

“My love,” she sighs as she wraps her arms around your waist and kisses your cheek. “You don’t need to wear makeup.”

“I know, I know,” you mumble. “But I don’t want to show up looking like a slob.”

The redhead rolls her green eyes. “Babe, you’re beautiful no matter what, and my mom and Nonna are going to love you.”

“And what if they don’t?” you ask as you continue to apply your eyeshadow. 

Melissa looks at you like you just asked her the dumbest question on the planet. “There’s not a chance in hell they aren’t going to love you, and Nonna is going to absolutely adore El.”

“What about me?!” Ellie pops her head into the room. She then sees that you have your makeup out. “Ooh! Sparkles!”

“El, tell your momma she doesn’t need makeup to look beautiful.”

“Mom is right, Momma,” your daughter tells you seriously as she perches herself on the sink. “Why are you putting makeups on anyway? You only wear makeups when it’s a special occasion.”

“It is a special occasion,” you say softly. “We’re meeting Mel’s mom and grandma, and I want to make a good impression.”

Ellie’s lips into a little ‘O’. “Can I wear makeups to make a good impression too?”

That makes you pause, and you chuckle softly. “Pick one eyeshadow, and I’ll put it on for you.”

She squeals with delight as she looks at your palette. She ends up deciding on a very neutral but sparkly shade, and you gently put it on her eyelids. As soon as it’s on, your little girl is leaning in to look at herself in the mirror and giggling.

“Do I look good, Mom?”

“You look beautiful as always,” Melissa leans over and kisses Ellie’s cheek. She then pecks yours. “Just like you do.”

“What time do we have to be there?”

“We have to leave in thirty minutes,” your girlfriend tells you. “And I’ll make sure we have Ellie’s stuff in the car for her so you don’t have one more thing to worry about.”

“Thank you,” you sigh softly. “I should be ready within the next twenty minutes.”

“C’mon, El,” Melissa smiles down at the little girl. “Let’s let your Momma get ready while we get your stuff ready for the car.”

You manage to get yourself together before the promised twenty minutes, and you enter the living room the to sight of your girlfriend and your daughter lounging on the couch together.

“Hey,” you get their attention, and Melissa’s jaw drops just slightly. “What?”

Her eyes sparkle with love for you. “You look… stunning.”

“You’re ridiculous,” you laugh softly as you run a hand through your loosely curled hair. “I look like I do everyday we go to school.”

“And?” your girlfriend asks as she stands from her place on the couch. “You look gorgeous there too, and you should know it- I only tell you everyday.”

“You look really pretty, Momma,” Ellie smiles at you as she hands you your purse.

You look down at your little girl as you ruffle her hair. “How much did Mom pay you to say that?”

“Nothin’!” your little girl gives you a cheeky smile.

“Are you ready?” the redhead asks you softly. 

You take a deep breath. “As ready as I’m ever going to be,” you tell her.

The entire drive over to the Schemmenti household, Melissa’s hand rests gently on your thigh to provide warmth and comfort. She’s pulling in far too soon.

“We’re here,” she tells you gently. “But we’ll go in when you’re ready.”

You nod. “I’m ready.”

Melissa holds Ellie’s hand as the three of you make your way up to the front door, and you’re greeting with a woman that can only be Nonna.

“Nonna!” your girlfriend confirms as she embraces the shorter woman.

“There’s my Melissa Ann,” Nonna smiles. “Looking beautiful as ever.”

The redhead is nearly a spitting image of the woman in front of you, and when her mother comes to the door, it’s like there’s three generations of your girlfriend.

“Nonna, Mom,” Melissa smiles brightly. “This is my girlfriend, Y/N and her daughter, Ellie.”

You smile shyly and give a wave before tucking a hair behind your ear. “It’s a pleasure.”

“Hi!” your little girl squeaks with a smile. “I’m Ellie, and I’m seven.”

“Oh, aren’t you a cute little thing,” Melissa’s grandmother coos as she pinches your daughter’s cheek gently. “It’s nice to meet you, Ellie. You can call me Nonna.” She stands up straight to look at you. “The pleasure is all mine… Our Lissa has talked a lot about you- can’t believe it’s taken you this long to make it over for dinner!”

“We’re glad to be here,” you smile as you stick out a hand for her to shake. Then you face her mother. “Thank you for inviting us over.”

“We’ve been telling Lissa to bring you over for months now,” her mother chuckles. “Annette.”

“It’s very nice to meet you Annette,” you smile as you shake her hand too.

“Well, come in, come in,” both women say at once. 

“Dinner is almost ready, but there are some snacks out in the meantime, and can I get any of you anything to drink?” Annette asks.

“Wine for me and Y/N,” Melissa answers as she makes her way into the kitchen. “And El, what do you want?”

Your little girl looks up at your girlfriend and shrugs.

“We made sure we were stocked up for you,” Nonna chuckles. “Lemonade, apple juice, grape juice, orange juice, water… you name it, kiddo.”

“Can I have lemonade, Mom?” Ellie asks quietly. “Please?”

At the term your little girl uses, you stay quiet. 

“Sure thing, El,” Melissa smiles softly as she lifts Ellie to sit on the counter.

Nonna and Annette both raise eyebrows in shock, and it mirrors the same face that your girlfriend makes when she’s surprised.

“Mom?” Nonna asks gently. “Lissa, is there something you aren’t telling us?”

The redhead rolls her eyes playfully. “She started calling me Mom, and if she’s comfortable with it, I’m more than happy to be Mom.”

Ellie grins and leans over to kiss Melissa’s cheek while Annette pours a lemonade and Nonna pours the wine.

“Can I help with anything?” you offer.

“Oh, aren’t you sweet?” Annette smiles as she hands you your wine. “No, Nonna has it handled.”

“Can I help?” Ellie chirps from her place on the counter. “Mom and Momma let me help with dinner all the time, and I love it!”

Nonna grins. “Oh, I could definitely use the help from you, little one. The rest of you, out of my kitchen!”

Melissa chuckles as she presses a kiss to your daughter’s head and pulls you to the living room couch. “I knew her and Nonna would get along like two peas in a pod.”

“Yeah?” you ask softly.

“Nonna loves the little ones, and Ellie is the best little girl out there,” Melissa shrugs as she kisses your temple.

“So…” Annette looks at the two of you.

You and your girlfriend spend the time that dinner is being prepared chatting with Melissa’s mother about everything under the sun. Occasionally, you hear Ellie squeal with joy. It brings a happiness to your heart- knowing that your daughter is making a connection with one of your girlfriend’s favorite people. 

“Momma! Mom!” Ellie comes bouncing in with the biggest smile on her face. “Dinner’s ready!”

You, Melissa, and her mother all stand from your place on the couch and head for the dining room. There’s a beautiful display on the table.

“Nonna teached me how to set a table properly!” your little girl absolutely beams.

Nonna smiles a smile that matches Ellie’s energy.

Dinner is wonderful, and you absolutely insist on helping clean up and help to set out dessert with Melissa and Ellie while Annette and Nonna sit back and sip their wine.

“So, what do you think?” Nonna asks.

Annette smiles. “Lissa did good with this one. She’s better than Joe.”

“Her little girl is the cutest little thing,” Nonna notes softly. “If her manners and sweetness are anything to go by, Lissa may have found her person.”

“So?” Melissa asks you quietly.

“Your mom is so sweet,” you tell her genuinely.

Ellie grins. “Nonna is my most favorite person! She teached me to fold the napkins, and that the sharp side of the knife should always face the plate when you set the table.”

The smile that washes over your girlfriend’s face is gorgeous. You peck her lips gently as you finish washing the last of the dishes.

After dessert, you find yourself with another glass of wine while you lounge on the couch and chat with your girlfriend’s family. Ellie curls up in Melissa’s lap, happy to drink her lemonade and cuddle. You can tell though as the night goes on that your daughter is getting sleepy, and it’s clear that Melissa can too.

“Is Ellie girl gettin’ tired?” the redhead asks as she kisses Ellie’s head and takes the cup out of her hand.

Your little girl nods against Melissa’s chest as she rubs at her eyes. The two of you glance at the clock- it is getting to be the time where Ellie starts to wind down for the night.

“I guess we should probably start heading out for the night,” your girlfriend tells her family. “But we’ll have to get together again soon… maybe you can come over to our apartment for dinner one night.”

“That would be lovely,” Nonna smiles. “I’d love to get to see Ellie again- you know, she reminds me of you a little.”

“Really?”

“Full of life, eager to help,” the eldest woman smiles. “She’s a little honorary Schemmenti.”

Ellie gives a sleepy smile that quickly turns into a yawn as she plays with the chains around Melissa’s neck. “Ellie Schemmenti,” she mumbles against your girlfriend’s chest.

If the kiss that’s pressed to Ellie’s temple is anything to go by, you would say that Melissa is quite happy with that little statement.

“Alright, Ma,” your girlfriend stands with Ellie in her arms. “Nonna. It’s time we head out and get the little one to bed, but thank you for having us.”

“Seriously,” you chime in softly. “Thank you so much. Dinner was wonderful.”

“Anytime, sweetheart,” Nonna and Annette tell you at the same time.

As you hug Melissa’s grandmother, she whispers in your ear, “Seriously, anytime. You’re family now.”

Nonna was never the best whisperer though, so Melissa hears the sweet words that are said. Her smile doesn’t leave her face the entire walk out to the car.

Once you get on the road, Melissa takes your hand in her own and brings it up to her lips. “I told you, there wasn’t anything to worry about. They’re both a lot like me… tough on the outside, softies on the inside.”

“I guess you were right this time,” you chuckle softly.

“When are you going to realize I’m always right?” your girlfriend teases you. “What did you think though, for real?”

“I see where you get a lot of your personality,” you tell her. “And I love you, so I love your family.”

“And my Nonna’s comment about Ellie being an honorary Schemmenti?” the redhead presses just slightly.

“The cutest thing in the world,” you sigh in content.

When Melissa pulls into the driveway, she expertly lifts Ellie out of her carseat and into her arms without waking her before taking her into the house. The two of you tuck her in together, and she only wakes up slightly when you press kisses to her face.

“Goodnight, Momma. Goodnight Mom. I love you,” Ellie mumbles out, still half asleep.

“We love you too, love bug,” you whisper as you brush away a few of the stray hairs. Melissa repeats the sentiment before you head off to prepare for bed yourself.

She’s in bed before you are, and when you slide in, she seems to be deep in thought. You curl into her arms.

“Penny for your thoughts?”

“Just thinking about how lucky I am to have you,” she whispers as she kisses the nape of you neck.

“I think I’m the lucky one,” you sigh out softly, a bit breathily.

Your girlfriend shakes her head. “That would be me,” she tells you as she nips at you. “I don’t know how I managed to land a gorgeous and kind woman like you- the most amazing person I’ve ever met.”

You push away from her slightly. “I am loving these compliments, but honey, I’m too tired to have sex tonight.”

“That’s fine,” she tells you as she pulls you back into her arms and lets you lay your head on her chest. “Get some good sleep, hun.”

You fall asleep rather quickly, exhausted from the events of today, but Melissa lays awake as she replays her Nonna’s words in her head- that Ellie was an honorary Schemmenti, that you were part of the family now. And that gets her thinking… Should she forego the ‘honorary’ portion of your titles and officially make you Schemmentis? She falls asleep thinking about this.

TAGS: @schemmentis @thesapphictimelady @marvel210 @itisdoctortoyousir @morgana-larkin @thesamesweetie @doesthatsuggestanythingtoyou @marvels--slut @gwennybriggs @megamultifandomtrashposts @lemz378 @http-sam @melissaschemmentisbranzino @imaginesmultifandoms @sexysapphicshopowner @lilfartbox1 @maybe-a-humanbean @imlike-so-gaydude @sapphicxrat @a-queen-and-her-throne @sunsol-22 @notinmyvocab @melanielaufeyson

[blorger]

"Why were you in disguise?" "It was—" Draco swallowed. "I was testing something. An experimental potion. Something to change my appearance." "And why would you need to do that?" "Because I can't go out in public anymore without getting threatened by nutters like you," he sneered, then winced when Potter's expression darkened. "Why a Muggle bar, then?" Potter demanded. "Did you somehow know I'd be there? Did someone tell you?" Draco couldn't stop himself from rolling his eyes. "You think very highly of yourself, don't you, Potter?" Potter leaned in closer, his wand poking beneath Draco's chin again—not as hard as before, but an unmistakable threat. "Just answer the question." "No, I didn't know you'd be there! How could I have known? I've had contact with hardly anyone aside from my parents for months!" Potter once again drew back slightly, and some of the tension seemed to ease out of his shoulders. "So no one informed you I'd be there." "Who in Merlin's name would have known in the first place?" Draco asked, exasperated.

from The World Thy Gaol by November Snowflake

[serial-killers-hope]

Could you do a thing for ronin with a partner that’s transmasc but dresses really fem and feels really insecure and like they aren’t an actual guy because of how they present?

(totally not projecting shhhhhhh)

Ah, well. I’ve been planning this for quite awhile actually… well, I suppose you wouldn’t mind some of my work again. ~ DP

CW / TW :

- Gender Dysphoria

- Running / Intrusive Thoughts

- Anxiety

SPOILERS FOR KILLER CHAT

Enjoy.

Petticoats and Blood.

You stared at the coord you had made yourself for the next day. The mannequin sported your petticoat and purse for the next day. Dressing pretty and very nice was your forte after all. Even if it did garner unwanted criticism from so-called “normal” people. It made you happy to dress in frilly skirts, ruffled blouses, cute bonnets. The works for your average sweet style that everyone either loved or criticized ( for whatever reason… )and it made you question whatever was going on through their minds as well.

You hesitate for a second, hanging up the dress and putting away the jewelry for the night. Until your phone pings with a notification and ultimately throws off your insecure thoughts for the moment.

You pick up the phone, eyes narrowed as you stared at the text that the man you who had fallen for ( which you questioned why Ronin had put his name as “ Thy Divine Devil “ ) spammed your phone.

goreboy : darlin’

goreboy : come On. im bored and I want to see Your Pretty mug :)

You frown a bit, the word pretty sticking out like a sore thumb. In all honesty, you never bothered to correct him so how would he even know? All he knew was your identity change and your identity struggles. He’d help with the process, buying you your binder was a plus you didn’t know you needed and a man who knew how to inject testosterone to satisfy your euphoric needs?

Double whammy.

Ronin kept spamming, your frown evident as you shot him a text with a exasperated sigh.

[ User ] : What’s up? :)

You watched as his username popped up and slowly typed. Your impatience grew as you planted yourself down onto your bed with a quiet tap of your foot. Nose scrunched as your dysphoria feuded with your mentality. Hands gripping your phone as his message came through.

goreboy : can’t I just try to See You?

goreboy : But nahhhh, i’ll keep you updated when I see You :)

goreboy : i love you darlin’. keep Your Head up.

Your heart clenched as your throat tightened with a gentle tug of your vocal cords. Your voice didn’t even want to leave as you opened your mouth to say something into the random void of your goddamn room.

“Damn…”

You muster up the word, immediately jumping up to get dressed into some random clothes you had strewn about. Eyes alert and teary as you shrugged on some hoodie that Ronin had gave you some time ago. It’s material plush and gentle on the body. Black in color with a skull on its front.

It honestly screamed Ronin.

Your hand traced the pattern, sighing as you slipped on your shoes and grabbed your keys.

You usually dressed up, even for something simple as this ( meeting Ronin at his usual alleyway ) and even doing a minimal amount of makeup. But you shrugged off the heavy feeling, the dysphoria practically screaming as you got into the car that Ronin had fixed a few months prior to your ‘accidental’ meeting.

You parked a few blocks away from the spot, scrambling out and locking the car before jogging to the alleyway. Your eyes darted around slightly as you made your way down the pathway. Eyes drifting to a specific brick wall that the two of you had met at.

“… huh?”

Ronin slumped against the wall, grinning as he noticed your steps.

“Hey darlin’… how are-“

He cuts himself off, his eyes drifting over your body with a furrowed brow and a small frown which was immediately replaced with a smile.

“Lazy day?”

“You can say that.”

Ronin obviously wasn’t satisfied with the answer, arms crossing as he approached and looked you dead in the eye. Noticing the redness, the puffy texture around them, and the fake smile you usually pulled on bad dysphoria days with a subtle grunt.

“What’s wrong?”

You shift a bit, rocking on the heels of your feet as you shrugged slightly and looked away. Your brows furrowed a bit as he leaned to meet your facial level.

“Nothing… just a bad dysphoria day.”

Immediately, he scowled. His arms suddenly wrapping around you in a comforting hug as he whispered nothing but affirmations to you. It made all the pent up emotions in your body spill out onto the floor. Soft sobs and quiet chokes escaping as you reciprocated the hug and sobbed into his chest.

“I’m not normal, why can’t I be normal…”

Ronin sighs, pressing a gentle kiss against the top of your head. His warmth, inviting and comforting as he whispered into your ear.

“Were we ever normal?”

[kerryweaverlesbian]

The Bunker kitchen is always cold, but it's at its coldest at the crack of dawn. Staring down into his creamed coffee, Dean wonders if 45 is old enough to slough off the habit of a lifetime and start sleeping in til at least 8, but then he remembers the nightmares he got the last time he tried messing with his sleep cycle. Maybe what he really needs is an extra pair of socks.

"I have something for you."

Dean looks up from his cup and smiles sleepily at Cas, who'd paused to get dressed when Dean had slumped directly to the kitchen in his pjs. He still wears his suit, tie and trench coat ensemble, thoroughly overdressed for 6.30 in the morning, but he still hadn't bothered to brush his hair. Mr Contrarian. He's adorable.

"I thought gifts were later," Dean says, instead of fawning. He has some dignity left. Somewhere.

"Big ones are."

"2 o' clock? No surprises?" Dean challenges - after his 40th, when he'd knocked Sam out thinking he'd been possessed with how shifty he'd been acting trying to hide the big party, Dean's (quite reasonably, he thinks) insisted on a strict birthday itinerary of his own devising.

"No surprises," Cas promises. He pulls his hand out of his coat pocket and puts a tape down on the table, flat, and slides it across to Dean with two fingers.

It's simply labeled in Cas’s looping cursive: For Dean. Dean picks it up and flips it over, no more information on the back.

"I wasn't sure if you'd like it," Cas explains needlessly, and Dean can see him fidgeting in his periphery. Cute. "I know you like to 'pick the music' but I thought you might appreciate knowing some that make me think of you."

"I like it," Dean assures him, glancing up to grin at him, and he's glad to see Cas’s shoulders relax.

"Good. It would have been very awkward if you didn't."

"Yeah, and you're never awkward," Dean teases, and gets a suspicious squint for it that pivots quickly into a fond eyeroll. "Can I play it now?"

"Oh," Cas says, sounding surprised, "Yes."

He vanishes for a second and then blinks back with one of their cassette players, one of those flat, black, functional things that star in 70s cop shows. There was a little puffy sticker of a stegosaurus on it from Jack's sticker phase.

"Ever heard of goodbye?" Dean complains unseriously, and happily accepts the sweet kiss Cas offers as he passes the player over.

Cas doesn't dignify him with a response, but he does stay close, hovering over Dean’s like a warm shadow as he sets the tape in and hits Play. There's a few seconds of staticky silence, and then, surprisingly, a recording of Cas’s voice comes rumbling out of the speaker.

"Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus. Adiuramus te, cessa decipere humanas creaturas-"

"Cas," Dean says, hitting Pause, "why am I listening to you doing an exorcism? Where's the rock'n'roll?"

"You like things that are practical. You're welcome." He says it with such sincere, smug certainty that he'd gotten it completely right that Dean can't help but laugh.

"So you made me an exorcism mix-tape?"

"It's helpful."

"Sentimentality, thy name is Castiel." Dean kisses Cas’s knuckles, delighted with him, "I thought you said there were songs on here."

"They're on the other side."

"This whole side is just you chanting?"

"Not all of it," Cas says, and leans over Dean's shoulder to skim through with the fast-forward. He lands expertly near the end, which should not be as sexy to Dean as it is. The Cas recording finishes his latin, then there's a long pause, and then:

"I expect you saved them by now. Or they died." A smaller pause, then Cas adds, at an afterthought, "Hopefully the former. Dean, I love you."

Click. End of the tape. It's only when Cas’s hand comes up gently to his cheek that he realises he'd shed a tear.

"Dean," Cas says, with his infinite tenderness, half wonder, half exasperation.

"Just caught me off guard," Dean protests weakly, swiping under his eye roughly (but careful not to dislodge Cas’s hand).

For around the first 6 months after Cas’s return, Dean couldn't hear an "I love you" without bursting into tears. He'd gotten better with it in the years following, but but sometimes it still hit. Like now. Cas knew that he'd only be using this side of the tape in an all the way fucked up situation, and he'd given him a small, unnecessary kindness. Another one - a charming little kiss is pressed to his forehead.

"What'd I do to get you, Cas?" Dean marvels out loud, and Cas leans back to frown at him, still holding his face in his wide hands.

"Quite a lot," Cas deadpans, and that sets Dean off laughing again.

He grabs Cas’s wrist to smack a kiss to his palm, and then to pull himself upright, his other hand blindly flipping the tape over and starting up the music side. As the opening Auoooghs of Gin Wigmore's Black Sheep starts up, Dean tugs Cas to dance with him to it, uncoordinated and unrestrained.

"Dancing wasn't in the plan" Cas notes dryly, but he lets Dean sing to his tie like it's a microphone anyway, and Dean can tell he's biting back a smile.

"Screw the plan! It's my birthday!"

"It's your birthday plan."

"Exactly, so I get to change it." Dean stops Cas arguing back by kissing him, which only works about 40% of the time, but this, it seems, is one of those times. "I love you, man."

"I love you too. Happy birthday, Dean."

The affection in Cas’s gaze warms Dean all the way down to the very tips of his toes. It is a happy birthday. Almost as good as all the ones after it.

[geekusfemme]

Name Thy Prey

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Full story on AO3 — Wattpad

Astarion x Female OC

Rating: Mature

Summary: What if Astarion was betrayed by the Dark Urge and handed over to the Gur Hunter? And what if another kind of hunter saved him and set his life on a new course, one that would ultimately lead him to cross paths with those who had abandoned him? This story aims to give Astarion his own hero's journey separate to the main party, and will run parallel to the canon story in which Durge will be an antagonist.

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Chapter Five: Astarion and the gang have wiped out the goblin invaders and avenged the destruction of the grove. Astarion has learned that Onyx was created from the soul of an ancient, forgotten wolf god named Fenrir.

—★—

Astarion leaned casually against the splintered remains of a broken cart, the wood creaking faintly under his weight. The night was heavy with the smell of blood and charred flesh, a macabre perfume clinging to the grove. He took his time cleaning his blade, each slow pass of the cloth leaving behind a gleaming surface that reflected the muted torchlight. His eyes, however, were fixed on the slack-jawed visage of Dror Ragzlin's severed head sitting on the battered table beside him.

"You know," he began conversationally, tilting his head as if expecting an answer, "it's never a good idea to turn your back on a very large and very angry direwolf in the middle of a battle."

The head, of course, said nothing. Its lifeless eyes stared blankly into the void.

Astarion sighed dramatically, as though disappointed, flicking a speck of dried blood from his sword. "I mean really, what were you thinking?"

Ashara walked by, brushing her hands on her leather armor, her gaze flicking to him with mild exasperation. "Astarion, stop talking to a severed head and help us shift this pile of stones."

He arched an elegant brow, gesturing theatrically. "But we're having such a lively discourse."

Karlach, kneeling beside a mound of rubble piled against the cliffside, paused to glance up, her lips quirking into an amused grimace. "You've got issues, mate."

Astarion smirked back, unrepentant. "I have an abundance of issues, darling, which is precisely why I take whatever fun I can get."

He nudged the head with the tip of his sword, watching as it tipped and rolled off the edge of the table. With a sudden burst of inspiration he called out, "Here, boy, fetch!" before kicking the head with all his might.

It sailed through the air and landed a few yards away. A worg lounging nearby perked up, its ears twitching. With a guttural growl, it bounded after the grisly object, tail wagging like an overeager dog.

Onyx, lying nearby and licking at a wound on his foreleg, lifted his head and let out a low growl of disapproval. "We're not keeping them," he muttered, "It takes too much energy convincing them not to attack you."

Astarion pulled a face, wrinkling his nose. "Gods, who'd want them anyway? Foul creatures."

Onyx huffed, his tail thumping lazily against the ground. "Useful, though."

Astarion's lips curled into a sly smile. "Not nearly as useful as a soul fragment from a forgotten god..."

Onyx froze mid-lick, his eyes narrowing in clear annoyance. After a moment, he gave what could only be described as a wolfish shrug and returned to tending his wound. "True."

Irritated by the wolf's calm dismissal, Astarion pushed off the cart and sauntered over to Karlach and Ashara. Both were hard at work pulling stones from the rubble, their faces streaked with dirt and determination. He tilted his head, eyeing their progress with detached interest.

"There had better be treasure buried behind this mess," he drawled.

Karlach didn't look up. "Of a sort," she said, her voice tinged with effort. "Wyll hid some kids in a cave beyond this tunnel right before the battle. I'm just hoping the gobbos didn't find another way in."

A flicker of unease rippled through Astarion, but he buried it beneath a layer of practiced indifference. Folding his arms, he leaned against a nearby rock and said lightly, "Unless they had access to water, they're probably dead of dehydration by now."

Karlach's head snapped up, her expression thunderous. "You gonna help, or just stand there pissing me off?"

The raw anger in her eyes gave him pause. With a theatrical sigh, he knelt down beside her and Ashara, his long fingers prying at the stones. "Fine, fine. You didn't have to ask so nicely."

Together, they worked in tense silence, the occasional grunt of effort breaking the quiet. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, they unearthed a narrow tunnel leading into the cliffside. The opening was barely wide enough for a grown adult to squeeze through.

Karlach straightened, placing her hands on her hips as she surveyed the opening. "I'm too big for that. But you two scrawny elves should manage just fine."

Astarion bristled, drawing himself up. "Scrawny!"

Ashara, indignant, added, "Elves!"

Both Astarion and Karlach turned to stare at her. Astarion raised a bemused brow. "You do know you're a moon elf like me, don't you?"

Ashara flushed, the tips of her ears reddening as she looked away. "Sorry, I forgot."

Karlach tilted her head, intrigued. "Pretty important detail to forget..."

Ashara fidgeted, her fingers picking nervously at the dirt. "I was raised as a human. I didn't know I was an elf until after my adoptive father d-died. Later, I met some wood elves who were... condescending when they found out I didn't know anything about my heritage."

Astarion scoffed, his tone dry. "I'm sure they were."

Ashara's voice tightened, her discomfort clear. "I didn't like them much, so I decided I didn't care to be thought of as an elf."

Without another word, she dropped to her knees and began wriggling through the narrow tunnel. The darkness swallowed her quickly, her voice drifting back faintly. "I'll check it out."

Karlach whistled low, her gaze following Ashara's retreating form. "Wow..."

Astarion shrugged, brushing dust from his hands. "Unsurprising. Wood elves can be arrogant pricks at times."

Karlach smirked. "Probably why I thought you were one at first."

Astarion opened his mouth to retort, but a sharp cry from within the tunnel froze him in place.

"Astarion! Get in here, quick!" Ashara's voice was sharp with urgency.

Without hesitation, Astarion dropped to his knees and slid into the tunnel, the cold stone pressing against his ribs as he edged forward.

Each breath echoed faintly, the sound bouncing back in hollow whispers that gnawed at his nerves. When the passage finally opened into a cavern, he paused, squinting against the weak moonlight filtering through cracks in the rock.

The air was damp, heavy with the scent of moss and decay. Water trickled down the walls, carving jagged paths through the stone. Crates and boxes lay scattered, some smashed open, their contents spilling out like abandoned secrets. But what drew his attention most were the bodies. Goblins lay sprawled across the cavern floor, their weapons discarded and their lifeless eyes staring into nothing.

Astarion closed his eyes, his hand tightening on the hilt of his dagger. He steeled himself for what he was sure would come next. Dead children. It was inevitable, a brutal truth in this world. He'd seen countless bodies over the centuries, their stillness no longer disturbing him as it once had. But no matter how detached he became from death, a child's lifeless body always unsettled him. A weakness he had never been able to cast off entirely.

Drawing in a measured breath, he opened his eyes. The first thing he saw was Ashara kneeling beside a body. The tiefling woman wore bright, colorful clothing now darkened with a bloodstain across her chest. Astarion recognized her instantly: Alfira, the bard who had sung so sweetly after Wyll helped her with her composition.

But something struck him as odd. Unlike the goblins, whose corpses were left carelessly where they fell, Alfira had been carefully arranged. She lay on her back, hands folded over her lute, as though in quiet prayer. Moss dotted with tiny flowers framed her head like a delicate green halo, a tender tribute that seemed almost out of place in this blood-soaked cavern.

Ashara reached out tentatively, her fingers hovering near Alfira's arm. Before she could touch her, a blur of motion launched from the shadows, slamming into her with surprising force and a shrill cry.

"Don't touch her! Leave her alone!"

Astarion reacted instinctively, his dagger flashing in his hand as he sprang forward. He froze mid-step, however, when the "attacker" came into view - a small, dark-haired tiefling boy, fists clenched and pounding against Ashara's arm with all the fury his tiny frame could muster.

Ashara stared down at the child, her expression a mix of surprise and confusion. She grasped his shoulders firmly but gently, pushing him back just enough to stop the assault. "Hey! Stop that, I need that arm for later."

The boy glared up at her, his tear-filled eyes a volatile blend of fear and defiance. "She's resting! Mol says we need to let her be at rest!"

Astarion relaxed his grip on the dagger, arching a brow. "Mol's still alive? Why am I not surprised."

The boy froze, his gaze snapping to Astarion. Recognition flickered across his face, softening his expression. "You were one of the nice people who saved me from the harpies."

Astarion tilted his head, lips quirking into a faint sneer. "Oh... that was you, was it? I vaguely recall a child surviving the chaos that day. What was your name again?"

"Mirkon," the boy replied, his voice wavering.

Ashara's tone softened as she met his gaze. "Are there any more children down here, Mirkon?"

Mirkon sniffed, his small hands balling into fists. "Just me and Mol. Goblins got in through the other tunnel. We buried the others near the stream - where it's soft." His voice cracked, and his gaze drifted to Alfira. "The bard lady was too big. We couldn't move her from the rock."

Astarion caught the way Ashara's eyes shimmered, tears threatening to spill as she released Mirkon's shoulders. The boy turned back to Alfira, adjusting a patch of disturbed moss near her neck with a reverence far beyond his years.

Intrigued despite himself, Astarion crouched beside Ashara, watching the boy's careful movements. "Did you make this for her?" he asked softly, surprising himself with the gentleness in his tone.

Mirkon nodded, his small fingers trembling. "I couldn't find any proper flowers. Mol says it's too dangerous to go outside and get some." He glanced up at Astarion, his expression solemn. "But graves are supposed to have flowers, aren't they?"

Astarion's throat tightened. He nodded, his voice barely above a whisper. "Yes... they are."

Ashara placed a hand on Mirkon's shoulder, her voice warm with encouragement. "But this looks just as nice. You did a good job, Mirkon."

The boy smiled shyly at her, pride flickering through his tear-streaked face. Then he turned back to Astarion, his expression shifting to something brighter, hopeful. "Have you come to save us again?"

Astarion's heart clenched at the innocent trust shining in the boy's eyes. He glanced at Ashara, who was watching him intently, her expression unreadable.

"Well..." Astarion began, his tone breezy despite the unease in his chest. "We killed all the invaders, so I suppose we've already saved you, in a manner of speaking."

Mirkon's eyes widened, his face lighting up with a mix of awe and relief. "All the goblins are gone now? It's safe to go out?"

Astarion leaned back slightly, keeping his expression light. "Safe might be a bit of a stretch, but you don't have to worry about goblins or bugbears anymore, at least."

The boy stared at him for a moment, tears brimming once more. Before Astarion could react, Mirkon threw his arms around his neck, hugging him tightly. The unexpected embrace froze him in place, his hands hovering awkwardly in the air as if they didn't belong to him. His mind scrambled for a response, but none came.

"Ashara," he said, his voice strained and almost panicked as he closed his eyes. "There's a small child hugging me."

"I can see that."

His eyes snapped open, glaring at her. "Get it off me. Now."

Ashara reached out and tapped Mirkon lightly on the shoulder. "Mirkon, I don't think Astarion likes being hugged."

The boy pulled back reluctantly, his red-rimmed eyes wide with curiosity as he sniffled. "Why don't you like hugs? Are you like Donni?"

Astarion avoided the boy's gaze, focusing instead on smoothing the creases in his jerkin with meticulous care. "I have no idea who Donni is," he said, his tone arch, "but I'm quite certain Ashara here adores hugs."

Mirkon's gaze swung to Ashara, who gave him a soft, encouraging smile and opened her arms wide. "I love them," she said warmly.

Without hesitation, Mirkon threw himself into her embrace, wrapping his small arms tightly around her neck. Ashara's arms encircled him, pulling him close as his quiet sobs broke the heavy silence. Astarion watched the scene, a faint prickling of something uncomfortably close to guilt brushing against his conscience. He pushed the feeling aside with a practiced ease, straightening and brushing dust from his knees.

"I'm going to see if I can find Mol," he announced, already turning away.

Ashara glanced up briefly, her arms still wrapped protectively around Mirkon, and gave him a slight nod. He turned and strode deeper into the cavern, his footsteps echoing faintly in the oppressive stillness.

The flickering light from a torch illuminated a patch of freshly turned soil. Small clumps of moss and fragile flowers were arranged in careful patterns, marking what were unmistakably graves. Astarion froze, staring at them blankly. A cold wave of unease surged through him, twisting his stomach, but he forced the sensation down, locking it away with the rest of the emotions he had no use for.

At the far end of the cavern, a makeshift shelter caught his eye, cobbled together from broken boards and strips of tattered canvas. Scattered around it were the remnants of past meals - gnawed bones, empty jars, and the faintest trace of smoke where a fire might once have burned. Despite the signs of habitation, an eerie silence hung over the place, oppressive and thick. Astarion's steps slowed, his chest tightening with a sense of foreboding.

As he reached the shelter, he hesitated. A sinking dread coiled in his gut, clawing at his resolve. Steeling himself, he pushed back a flap of canvas, and the sight within made him draw a sharp breath.

Mol lay on a makeshift bed of fur and straw, her small body still beneath a tattered blanket. One of her eyes was covered by a haphazard bandage, while the other stared hollowly at the dark ceiling above. She was frozen in a lifeless gaze, the spark of cunning and resilience that had once defined her snuffed out.

Astarion knelt beside her, his movements slow and deliberate. He reached out, his fingers brushing against her cheek. Her skin was cold, the chill seeping into his fingertips. He sighed, a sound heavy with resignation, and pulled back the blanket covering her. The yellowed bandages wrapped around her chest told a grim story, the putrid stench of infection confirming it. She had been dead for at least a day, maybe longer.

Gently, Astarion brushed his hand over her face, closing her unseeing eye. The action, simple as it was, made a wave of sadness crash over him, unbidden and unrelenting. This time, he didn't fight it. He sat on the ground beside her makeshift bed, running a hand over his face as if to wipe away the weight of his emotions. But they lingered, heavy and suffocating.

"Damnit..." he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper. There was no one here to see him falter, no one to witness the cracks in his carefully crafted facade. For a brief moment, he let himself feel it all - the grief, the anger, the crushing guilt.

His mind conjured the image of the children cowering in this dark, damp cave, hearing the echoes of battle above. He imagined their terror when the goblins found them, the screams that must have rung out. The thought of their final moments brought a sickening wave of nausea, and with it came another memory, one he tried so hard to bury. The terrified cries of two Gur children as he dragged them from their beds under Cazador's orders. Their fear, their pleas, their tears - it all came rushing back, hitting him like a blade to the chest.

Rage flared, molten and consuming, directed not at the goblins, but at Cazador. At Durge. At every monstrous figure who had perpetuated the cycle of cruelty and death that now seemed so endless. He clenched his fists, his nails biting into his palms as he stared down at Mol's lifeless form.

"I'll make him pay for this," he whispered, his voice trembling with the force of his anger. "I'll make them all pay. I promise."

Taking a deep breath, he pushed himself to his feet, forcing the anger and sadness back down, burying it deep. He straightened his posture and wiped a hand over his face, erasing any trace of emotion. His mask was firmly back in place as he turned and made his way back to Ashara.

When he returned, she was still cradling Mirkon, the boy's small face buried against her shoulder. She glanced up at him over the top of the boy's dark curls, her expression questioning. He met her gaze and shook his head slowly, the meaning clear in his eyes.

Ashara's face fell, her shoulders sagging as she rested her cheek against Mirkon's head. She held the boy tighter, her sorrow reflected in the way she closed her eyes, as though willing herself to hold it together.

After a while, Ashara rose, her hand still resting lightly on Mirkon's shoulder. The boy clung to her fingers as though they were the only tether keeping him steady in the world. Astarion cleared his throat, drawing their attention. "We should go," he said, his voice quieter than usual.

Ashara smiled gently at Mirkon. "Come on, Mirkon. Let's go see our friends. They'll be happy to meet you."

The boy hesitated, his small face scrunching in thought. "What about Mol? She said she wanted to spend the day in bed and didn't want me to disturb her, but I don't think she'll be mad if I tell her we can leave."

Astarion exhaled slowly, a breath that felt heavier than the moment called for. His gaze darted to Ashara, who met his eyes with a silent shake of her head. He forced a tight smile, though it felt brittle at the edges.

"Mol is..." His words faltered, but he quickly recovered. "She's still not feeling well, but she told me to take you out for some fresh air and a proper meal. She'll join us later."

Mirkon seemed to accept this, nodding slowly. "Okay. But can we bring her some food too? She hasn't eaten much..."

Ashara's hand tightened on the boy's shoulder. "Of course. Now, let's get moving, little one." She stood and guided him toward the tunnel, kneeling to crawl through first. Mirkon followed closely, casting a hesitant glance back at the shelter before disappearing into the passage.

Astarion lingered for one last look at the dismal cavern. His gaze flicked to the patch of graves, to the makeshift shelter, then back to the tunnel. His fists clenched again before he ducked into the narrow space, following the others.

When he emerged on the other side, the fresher air carried a welcome sense of escape, though his relief was short-lived. Mirkon had stopped abruptly, cowering behind Ashara's legs. His wide eyes were fixed on Onyx, who approached with deliberate, measured steps, his golden gaze locked on the boy.

Astarion leaned casually against the rocky wall, brushing dirt from his jerkin. Folding his arms, he watched with detached curiosity, wondering how Ashara would handle the situation.

The massive wolf stopped a few feet away, his head lowering as he studied the trembling boy. Mirkon clutched Ashara's hand tightly, his small body pressed against her for protection.

"It's okay, Mirkon," Ashara said, her voice steady and soothing. "Onyx is a friend."

What happened next left even Astarion momentarily stunned. Onyx, the embodiment of primal ferocity and lethal grace, dropped to his belly and rolled onto his back, paws flailing in the air. His tail thumped enthusiastically against the ground, and his tongue lolled out of his mouth as he panted like a playful puppy.

Karlach let out a delighted laugh, dropping to her knees beside the wolf. "Oh, who's a good boy, then?" she cooed, rubbing his chest with exaggerated enthusiasm.

Onyx's panting tongue flopped out further, and Astarion resisted the urge to snicker at the absurd display. But it worked - Mirkon let out a small, tentative giggle, his fear melting into cautious curiosity. He peeked out from behind Ashara's legs and took a tentative step forward, his small hand outstretched.

Onyx rolled back to his feet slowly, lowering his head and stretching his nose toward Mirkon's hand. The boy flinched at first but then, emboldened by Ashara's quiet encouragement, placed his hand on the wolf's snout. His small fingers traced the fur along Onyx's head, his touch growing more confident with each stroke. The wolf leaned into the touch, his eyes half-closing in contentment.

Ashara beamed at the boy. "See? He's just a big old softy."

Mirkon's grin stretched across his face, his earlier sadness momentarily forgotten. Ashara climbed onto Onyx's back with practiced ease, then reached down to offer Mirkon her hand. "Here, let's get you up."

The boy hesitated, then took her hand. He gasped as she lifted him onto the wolf's back, settling him in front of her. She wrapped her arms securely around him, steadying his small frame.

Astarion pushed off the wall, brushing the dust from his sleeves as he fell into step beside them. Karlach joined on the other side, her axe resting across her shoulder. Together, they began the slow walk out of the grove.

The carnage was mercifully obscured in the dim torchlight, the bodies reduced to vague, indistinct shapes that didn't seem to trouble Mirkon as he clung to Onyx.

Sidling closer to Onyx's head, Astarion smirked, his voice light as he drawled, "That was a beautiful sight. Truly, a shining example of a ruthless and dignified warrior in his prime."

Onyx huffed, his eyes flicking toward Astarion before returning to the path ahead. "Dignity is a small price to pay to see a scared child laugh."

Astarion's grin widened, the sharp edge of his humor returning. "Would you do that for me sometime? Preferably when I have paint and a canvas handy."

Onyx's ears flicked as if to dismiss the comment. "You're an artist?"

"No," Astarion admitted, a faint chuckle slipping through his otherwise sardonic tone. "But to immortalize that ridiculous display, I'd happily pay for lessons."

Onyx let out another huff, clearly unimpressed, and turned his attention back to the path ahead.

Astarion's grin lingered as they continued walking, his mood lighter despite the lingering shadows of grief trailing behind them. For now, at least, there was something resembling peace.

Like what's you're reading so far? Check out the full chapter in the link below.

[rauchendesgnu]

Gnu writes!

To start things off, I thought I'd share all the wips/ideas I have in bad summaries (yay!)

These are the wips that are partially published: a. At Thy Will - D/s AU, inspired by medieval marriage laws in the area that would later become Germany. I've talked a bit about it here before, it includes abusive relationships and fantasy sexism and also religious trauma b. The Tower Must Fall - unfortunately a bit neglected (but I plan on picking it back up, I promise), including assassin!Martin and witch!Jon slowburn enemies to lovers (Gerry is there, too!) c. A Treatise In Balance - basically just Jon getting snatched and turned into an avatar by each of the Fears. Includes art d. The Crackling Sound Of Magic - these are small fics where Jon is a mage in training under his cruel father Elias Bouchard and Martin is a kitchen hand in their household. also technically slowburn and lots of hurt/comfort because Jon keeps getting hurt

wips in my wip folder a. faerie!Jon - he's a faerie, Martin is human, he gets lost in the Otherworld's fog, Jon saves him. Oh, and soulmate AU, too :) b. Nothing But The City - inspired by UDAD, where Jonah (while wearing Elias like a suit) performs a series of cyborg-like surgeries on Jon to use him to take control over the City that once had a name that is now long lost to time c. another fantasy au with magic, inspired by occudo's art (that I still want to eat. so pretty). including apprentice!Jon, reluctant bodyguard!Martin, and exasperated and probably evil (but hot) long haired Elias d. Archive AU - Jon is a fully developed Eye monster, way beyond human. Nobody but Elias knows. Martin joins the Archive crew, accidentally makes friends with the monster via tea, and falls in love e. teacher!Jon in Scotland - you've read it before, you love it as much as I do: Scotland Safehouse Period forever, nothing bad happens and Jon gets adopted by a bunch of nosy teenagers f. nurse!Martin AU - Martin is a nurse who deals with Jon's worm wounds (gets section 31-ed) and keeps meeting him while Jon is injured. Features the good ol' anonymous online kinky relationship (and so much research because i don't even know how German hospitals work let alone British ones) g. Magnus Academy - more teacher!Jon, but in dark, with magic, murder, abuse, blackmail, discrimination, etc. h. The Fourteen Hauntings of Jonathan Sims, Librarian - more AUs! this time it's medium!Jon time (and medium!Martin). There's ghosts, and the town is called Nevermore :) i. Vampire Stuff - loosely based on The Fearless Vampire Killers (but the German musical, not necessarily the film), featuring vampire!Jon, vampire!Elias, human Martin, Tim, Sasha (yes, Jon is Herbert) j. Martin Knife Blackwood - established jonmartin, Jon wants to propose, Martin used to be in organised crime and the mob boss Peter Lukas comes for him, drama, blood, guns, etc. k. magical bookshop - more magic. including season 4 levels of sad Jon, a traumatised mute teenage kid who is accidentally adopted by said sad Jon. Jon has a bookshop that shows up at random. like the tardis but with less control even than the Doctor has l. toxic JonElias with endgame JonMartin - this one's not fleshed out at all, but basically Jon gets to make friends and escape Elias' clutches (no Fears AU)

I have more plot bunnies, but they're just that, so I won't list them here or I'd be here for hours. Feel free to ask questions about the wips above if you like, I'd be more than happy to elaborate (it will contain spoilers tho)

[shakespearenews]

Among playwrights, Shakespeare was an anomaly: all of his contemporaries had either matriculated at Cambridge or Oxford or, like Kyd and Jonson himself, had the private education that was a close equivalent. In a verse letter addressed to Jonson, Francis Beaumont, an Oxford matriculant as well as Jonson’s pupil, feigning untutored modesty, likens his style first to that of a Devon cheese-maker and then to Shakespeare’s: 

heere, I would lett slip (If I had any in me) schollershipp, And from all learninge leave these lines as cleare  As Shakespeares best are. 

In this jibe, even Shakespeare’s best lines lack scholarship.

Shakespeare may himself have made a joke of his unlearning. Both As You Like It and Merry Wives of Windsor feature an academically challenged character who is repeatedly called William. In the former, the stock country bumpkin is mocked by the court fool: to Touchstone’s question “Is thy name William?” he replies “William, sir”; and to Touchstone’s rhetorical follow-up, “Art thou learned?” he answers an earnest, “No, sir.” In Merry Wives of Windsor, an entire scene focuses on an underperforming schoolboy who bungles through his Latin declensions as his exasperated school master calls him to attention 10 times by name.

[eirinstiva]

“Death, where is thy jolly old sting?”

My dear friend Bertie Wooster in engaged to Honoria Glossop! Congrats? Well, poor Bertie is not so happy with this arrangement. Honoria is dedicated to mould him but Bertie doesn't enjoy culture in the same way. Probably he feels like he's at school again.

“Bertie,” she said, suddenly, as if she had just remembered it, “what is the name of that man of yours⁠—your valet?” “Eh? Oh, Jeeves.” “I think he’s a bad influence for you,” said Honoria. “When we are married, you must get rid of Jeeves.”

Jeeves is essential in Bertie's life! How dare she to separate them? ¡Ven pa' acá, Honoria! [swears in Chilean]

“Bertie,” she said, “dear Honoria does not know it, but a little difficulty has arisen about your marriage.” “By Jove! not really?” I said, hope starting to dawn. “Oh, it’s nothing at all, of course. It is only a little exasperating. The fact is, Sir Roderick is being rather troublesome.”

There's a light in Wooster future, I guess. If Sir Roderick doesn't like him there's a chance to break the engagement, but there will be new problems with Aunt Agatha. Hard choice, dear Bertie. It's a good idea to see what Sir Robert dislikes:

Don’t giggle nervously: try to keep that horrible glassy expression out of your eyes: don’t yawn or fidget; and remember that Sir Roderick is the president of the West London branch of the anti-gambling league, so please do not talk about horse-racing. He will lunch with you at your flat tomorrow at one-thirty. Please remember that he drinks no wine, strongly disapproves of smoking, and can only eat the simplest food, owing to an impaired digestion. Do not offer him coffee, for he considers it the root of half the nerve-trouble in the world.”

Basically, he dislikes Bertie's life style

“I should think a dog biscuit and a glass of water would about meet the case, what?” “Bertie!” “Oh, all right. Merely persiflage.”

Just as in the Holmes family, "art is in the blood" (neurodivergency, I guess) and in Wooster familty, Uncle Henry’s eccentricity is the trait that Aunt Agatha fears a lot, but I don't understand why is she so afraid of Henry's love for rabbits... unless he liked another type of bunnies...

Sir Roderick is very smart, but his vibes doesn't match Bertie and my old chap is masking a much as he can. The fact that he doesn't like cats and apparently there's a cat hidden in Wooster apartament makes this harder.

Will Jeeves and Wooster be separated? Honoria has Aunt Agatha on her side, Jeeves has the power of friendship and luck on his side. Good luck, Bertie!

[littleroma]

Exasperation Is Thy Name - Chapter Twenty-Nine

Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four Chapter Five Chapter Six Chapter Seven Chapter Eight Chapter Nine Chapter Ten Chapter Eleven Chapter Twelve Chapter Thirteen Chapter Fourteen Chapter Fifteen Chapter Sixteen Chapter Seventeen Chapter Eighteen Chapter Nineteen Chapter Twenty Chapter Twenty-One Chapter Twenty-Two Chapter Twenty-Three Chapter Twenty-Four Chapter Twenty-Five Chapter Twenty-SixChapter Twenty-Seven Chapter Twenty-Eight Chapter Twenty-Nine

Whee, one chapter left

Checking once again that she had the all-important goods securely fastened to her person near her waist, Dacia smiled when she saw that she had everything together and prepared to launch herself from the water. Faltering in her confident movements once, while she remembered to alert both Cassian and Jyn that she was momentarily going to emerge from the drink with a passenger.  Not wanting to slow herself down and wait to ensure that Cassian at the very least knew to expect her, she quickly bent towards her shoes and pressed a single button.

 Launching herself through the murky water, she tried not to allow herself to think overly of the kinds of things she was no doubt passing.  She told herself again that there was no doubt in her mind that whatever secrets the deep water held, would no doubt disgust her, resolutely shaking the thought from her head, she began the slow ascent.  She might not be certain if she could fall victim to a condition like the Bends, but even she was able to wager a guess that she would not like to follow that thought to its natural conclusion.

 Dacia tried to imagine herself as looking like something to a shooting silver bullet or star travelling up from the riverbed. Thinking that though, she tried to remind herself that it was unlikely that anyone was able to look too closely at her, the water was incredibly murky.  Shaking her head while she tried to remind herself that it would be in her best interests to get a shower before she started to get smelly.  She might not be able to smell herself now, but she could confidently and easily guess that she did not smell of a fresh bouquet of roses.

 Reminding herself that it was time for her to get back to work, she made her way from the water, cursing softly when she realised that she had come out a bit further from the shore than she had initially estimated. Glancing around her, she tried to work out in her head how much energy she would have to expend to get closer to the shore.  Ruefully thinking of the heavyweight hanging at her hips, she realised that she would likely have to expend twice the amount of energy, to travel a distance that normally would not trouble her.

Grumbling under her breath, while she thought of the amount of work that she was now about to have to follow up on, she cast her eyes around for any help.  Dacia was no fool, and she would easily confess that she did not see much point in putting herself even to harm if she did not have too.  If she could find somebody to help her, then so be it, much less strain on her already screaming muscles she reflected.  Hearing a strange sound had her whipping round in the water, wanting to make sure that she could pinpoint any potential threats.

 Feeling the relief course through her veins, when she realised that a small dinghy joined her, she prayed to all the lesser and greater Gods she could think of that they meant her no harm.  Dacia might have already felt a small measure of relief when she spotted the small lifeboat coming towards her, but a newer unsettling thought suddenly occurred to her.  She could not easily vouch for the intentions of the guys staring back at her from this dinghy.  Dacia hoped that these were not people she should be careful and wary of.

 Dacia thought that she had felt as if all of her energy had been sucked out of her while she was still fighting with the lazy lump at her hip. If these people mean her any harm, she would be hard pressed to attempt to defend herself.  With a start, she remembered to listen to her small earpiece again. Hopefully, Cassian or Jyn would be able to shed a little light on whether or not she could trust these people.

 It was with a great feeling of relief that she noted Jyn speak quietly to her through the small communication device in her ear;

 “Dacia, you can trust the people in the small speedboat approaching you, they will not bring you to further harm.  In the meantime though, keep a tight hand on our prisoner, I am going to go and make sure that we have the necessary security precautions in place on the spaceship.”

 Dacia tried not to nod visibly, she was not sure how much these people might know of her friend’s capabilities and call her selfish all you wanted, but she was not sure who she could trust.  It would not do for them to lose control, not when they were so close to the finish line. Peering over towards what Jyn had informed her was called a speedboat, Dacia wondered if she should ship over. She was not sure whether or not she could trust these men, so she resolved to simply play it by ear until she had learned even more.

 Taking in the sight of a few of the men leaning over the side of the boat, their hands outstretched while they reached for Dacia and her cargo.  In a split-second, she decided that it would be better for her if she simply gave her name as Darcy Lewis.  Dacia could easily and comfortably reckon that it would take too long for her to explain that it would take her too long to detail the split in her personality.

 With some amount of difficulty, she began to swim over towards the men, hoping that they would at least be able to help her.  Steeling her nerves even further when she drew closer, Dacia tried to prepare herself for the possibility of having to watch her words even closer.  Treading water as she waited for the people to approach her even closer, she could only hope that they would be near her quickly.  Her cargo was rapidly beginning to feel even heavier in her arms.  Dacia wondered if she should have left her captive conscious for a while longer, at the very least it might make this part a little bit easier.  Dismissing the idea as out of hand when she realised that it would not have mattered if the being was struggling to get away from her, it could take more energy if she were forced to keep the figure subdued without using a great amount of force.

 “Hello, Ma’am can we help you back to land?  Reach for my hand, and I can pull you into this little speedboat.” One of the men called out reaching for her.

 Dacia peered carefully at the man, before using his hands to bring herself over the side of the boat carefully.  Flopping down like a fish out of water, something which she now considered to be possibly quite apt, she heaved for breath.  Oxygen was slowly filling up her lungs again, the weak mid-afternoon sun shining down, attempting to warm the earth even in Autumn.  Gathering her thoughts to herself, while she tried to calm down her racing pulse, turns out that had been an even great strain than she had initially thought.

 It was just as she had feared – namely that she was more out of shape than she initially thought.  Dacia thought that it possibly had something to do with the fact that for now at least she was dealing with someone or something of similar enhancements from her Home Universe.  It worried her slightly that it had taken her longer to go in for the kill than it normally would, she wondered if it was possible that whatever had been following her, was newly arrived.  It had probably not arrived in a blaze of glory Dacia ruefully reflected, at least the fact that her foe had some energy left to parry with, the being was not fighting to improve its reactions.

 Dacia felt her stomach begin to clench underneath her while she considered the ramifications of what could have happened if she was not being played with like a doll.  If her foe had taken the thing a bit more seriously, then Dacia could have had an even greater problem on her hands and could have been caught far outside of her comfort zone.

 Considering that she suspected that she was simply being played with, she wondered just what her foe was capable of if they were not holding back.  Dacia sighed in disgust as she realised that she had been out of the game for too long to count on her luck holding.  If she came up against someone who was determined to put her down, then she could very well be helpless even to do so much as stymy their foes.

 Shaking her head to try and draw herself back to the present, she peered at some of the men, that she had now entrusted her safety too. For now, she could only hope that she had not put her eggs into the wrong basket, she would have to have a word with Jyn about how far they could trust these blokes.

 “Ma’am my name is Joe Cruz, do either you or your charge need medical assistance?” a man, Joe Cruz, asked.

 “No, we are good, never mind him, he is my charge, and I need to keep a close eye on him.  For now get us to shore and I can deal with him.” Dacia panted.

 While she was speaking, she carefully pulled her sodden cotton; woollen tunic tighter around her as if to ward off the chill.  Dacia thought that it would be a good idea if she were able to get some warmth into her as soon as possible.  Absently wishing that she had considered how poor an idea it could be if she entered into the water while wearing wool.  She should have tried to dig out her old wet.  Hopefully, that would have been able to keep the warmth in a bit better.

 Gingerly sniffing herself, she thought that at the very least she might not smell like something had died on her person. Resolving to take a shower as soon as she was able and scrub at her skin, Dacia now felt as if she would rather enjoy a good hot shower.  It was not as if she had forgotten what hot water could feel like, but she reflected that when one was covered in as much grime as her, a hot shower would feel akin to a minor miracle.  Looking down with a shudder, Dacia realised that Jyn might want to look over her, goodness knows that she looked like a walking petri dish, it would do for her to think of any diseases she may have picked up.  

 Dacia at least was able to comfort herself with the knowledge that thanks to her are feeling the Force again, may mean that some of the enhancements she had taken for granted for so long might be on their way back to her.  The Force had never been able to decimate any illness completely, but it had shored up her natural defences to such an extent that whispered at how difficult she could find it to get ill from a common bug.  Dacia hoped that it would work like this again, she did not particularly relish having to spend a great amount of time in bed, recovering from this filth. Chuckling to herself (and resolutely not noticing the alarmed looks she attracted) she thought of how little she had changed.  If some of her old friends from home could see her now, then they would very easily see that she had not changed a great deal. She may have gotten even more cautious and guarded from time to time, but she still felt a great distaste for time spent in bed.  Especially if it was time she could be used productively, something which she was determined to do for now.

 Dacia came back to herself, startled when she realised that she had so easily drifted away when she felt one of the men pressing a fluffy towel around her body.  Dacia tried to smile tremulously, the towel at least was warm and dry, it might not take away all of the disgusting filth on her person, but it was something.  Ducking her head slightly and shivering while she tried to refocus her attention back onto the matter at hand, she looked around her for the shore, relieved when she saw that it was coming closer.

 WHOOSH

 Jyn was stood on the shore of the river near Battalion Chief Boden, chewing at her bottom lip while she tried to work out what she should do next. Cautiously eyeing the ambulance parked near her, she wondered what she should do to distract them.  She might not have heard from Dacia in a while, but she had seen that her friend was in a small speedboat, she tried to rationalise that Dacia simply found it too awkward to speak.

 Understanding this desire from her friend, Jyn looked down at the small tablet held in her hand, smirking when she saw that Cassian was still paying attention to it.  She might not be able to speak aloud to him, at least not without a great deal of difficulty, but she could send him a message through this.  Jyn was aware that Dacia might need more help than usual, certainly, if she wanted to keep their foe quiet and malleable, so she sent a quiet message to Cassian to go and help out their friend.  It could be bad if Dacia were caught unawares, no doubt Dacia was beginning to feel the strain and Jyn did not want to increase the woman’s burdens.  Jyn might feel as if for now she could do little other than fret; she might be able to help hide her friend’s true mission, but now that their quarry had been captured Jyn could do little else than worry about what could go wrong at this particular juncture.

 Jyn was well aware that Cassian would no doubt point out that she was simply catastrophizing and that little of what she was doing now could truly help them.  She wondered how that particular little trait of hers had gotten so far out of hand; she had not always fallen prey to the voice of doom in her head.  Some days though she found it a struggle to ignore them. Who else would they bother if she wasn’t around to be their plaything?  Minutely shaking her head, Jyn knew that for now, her role might prove to be more important than she could have initially imagined.  For now, she would have to make sure that she played her role and kept Battalion Chief Boden from asking the kind of awkward questions that she was in a rush to answer.

 Cassian, get ready to help Dacia and her charge, for now, I have to make sure that Chief Boden does not get in the way too much.

 Casting her gaze over the deep water as she wondered what her next few steps should be.  She could easily recognise how she handled the man stood near her, could dictate how the next few hours could go; she was glad that Dacia had safely completed her mission, but it was time for Jyn to shine.  She would have to incredibly careful that she did not let on to Battalion Chief Boden how much her shit stunk, she had to hope that the man would allow them to pass him by.

 Carefully eying the man, she thought that it looked as if the man was not the type to suffer fools gladly.  Ordinarily, she thought that would not bother her, after all, she preferred when people did waste both her and their time.  Now that she would have to bullshit the man for all she was worth, she hoped that the man would not be paying so much careful attention to her words.

 She might not be able to work out how she could begin to hope to get the man to turn a blind eye on their mission, Jyn knew that Dacia would want to get her quarry onto their spaceship.  Dacia had probably knocked whoever their foe was unconscious to stop him from speaking until they were ready to listen to whatever lies he had to spill.  Jyn recognised that their task could become exponentially more difficult should someone overhear what the being had to say and started to ask questions.

 Looking upon Battalion Chief Boden once again, while she tried to work out what she should say next.  Unfortunately, due to the sounds of the squawking radio on his chest, Jyn could not think clearly.  The difficult decision, though, was taken out of her hands when Battalion Chief Boden cleared his throat and spoke to her;

 “We have got your woman in the dinghy, as you can see they are rapidly approaching the shore, we will have our ambulance team ready to look over the unconscious figure that she was travelling with.”

 Jyn looked at the man in some alarm, while she tried to work out exactly what she should say next.  She could not easily see any way out of the awkward discussion they were about to have. It might be difficult, but Dacia knew that she could easily run rings around the man if she were not aware that she had to take it carefully.  She did not need to think of how crucial this discussion could be with the man. Nevertheless, thoughts of failure plagued her mind.

 “Thank you, and that is fine we should be able to handle the figure. I do not point out that there are some things that you will not be able to run from, some that you will not be able to control.  This is one of those times, leave it with us to control the guy and his fate.” Jyn told the man, not wanting to threaten him. Not until she was sure that she had no other options left available.

 “And what am I supposed to put on the paperwork?  You know that I will not be able to hide this, do you not?” Battalion Chief Boden warned.

 “That is not our concern, not right now but you need to be able to accept your limits.  I am sure that your medical team is one of the better ones, but they will not be able to handle this.  Some things need to be handled with a firm hand; this is one of those times.  Do not pull your people further into a situation that they do not have all the facts at hands.” Jyn warned the guy, already circling the wagons.

 “That is not a very good answer; we need to make sure that we can close this issue as quickly as we can. Give me one good reason; we should wash our hands of this whole situation?” Battalion Chief Boden asked, his eyes glinting in warning.

 “If we do not skip past any unnecessary unpleasantness it could very well mean great danger not just for your City, but rather for your world.  Allow us to take the figure, do not run it up the flagpole and we may get out of this together.  Call further attention to us, and I can promise you that it will not end well for anyone involved.” Jyn flatly told the man.

 Jyn tried not to wince visibly; she had laid all of her cards on the table, now she had to see what Battalion Chief Boden would do with what he had been told.  Cassian might sometimes snort at Jyn’s ability to be incredibly blunt, sometimes hurtful, but he had confessed that he sometimes wished more people would simply speak what was on their minds than waste time speaking in circles.  Jyn had wondered if the man had started to feel like this because for so long he had worked as a spy, constantly having to extract meaning from people’s words and actions.  Dacia liked to joke that the man had no time for bullshit.  In any case, it would be a more reasonable way to live.

 “Very well, we shall take your prisoner, but we still need to have your woman seen too.  At the very least because we all saw her go into the river and it would soothe our nerves if she would accept some help.” Battalion Chief Boden quietly warned.

 Glancing over at Dacia, Jyn wanted to be sure what condition her friend was in before she agreed to allow her friend to be subjected to their medical attention.  Counting backwards from ten in her head did not make much of a difference, because she could only see it as her expertise being questioned.  She could tell herself that Battalion Chief Boden did not that Dacia’s (their) origin was not of this Earth, it would be different, they would no doubt notice small inconsistencies in their scans.  She would have to avoid them going over the top in their scanning; she made a mental note to have them avoid any probing.  For one thing, she was not sure how she could be expected to sell that to her friend, should she need too.  Nodding, slowly, knowing that she wanted nothing more than this ordeal to be over.

 “Very well, but passive, I am responsible for Darcy’s healthcare, if it should make you guys feel better about yourselves to do it.  I do not need to warn you though that if your people should go overboard, then we walk away.  You will not like trying to contain us; I can promise you that.” Jyn ominously warned, affixing Battalion Chief Boden with a grim look that promised hell.

 Without wanting to wait for the man to speak to her again, Jyn wandered off towards the shore; she would be ready to retrieve her friend.  Lifting out her little tablet as she walked, she quickly sent another message to Cassian.

 Cassian, Dacia is about to come over here again, be ready to take the Prisoner, I can not be sure whether or not I will be able to get us out this situation without a great deal of hassle.  Best be ready to move on command, yeah?

 Not want to spare a glance towards the corner where she knew Cassian would be coming from, she halted herself on the banks.  It was not so much as a standard bank, more concrete and stone, but for now it would serve its purpose, she idly thought.  It was not a bit of wonder that she could not hear Cassian approach her from behind, she thought that her friend was too good to be heard.  The man had been working for too long as a spy in their Home Universe to have a noisy tread; he would not have last particularly longer if he moved around too noisy.

 She looked at the woman and held her arms out for Dacia’s prone form, looking over the exhausted looking woman, Jyn realised that she would have to contain this situation hard. Glancing around her warily, she thanked her lucky stars that she had not spotted any television cameras, she knew how tricky it could be if someone got footage of them unawares.

 Taking Dacia into her arms with a small smile for the team still in the motorboat, Jyn looked around her and knew instantly what they wanted to do with Dacia.  Trying not to visibly roll her eyes in irritation, Jyn made her way over to the small ambulance. Affixing a stern look to her face, as she tried to think of how angry it could make her should Dacia be treated any more than strictly necessary, she was still the woman’s primary physician.

 “Hello, my name is Sylvie Brett, and this is Jimmy Borelli, all we want to do is make sure that your friend does not catch hypothermia,” Sylvie told the woman with a question in her eyes, no doubt wondering who exactly this woman was and why she was in a position to make demands.

 Jyn carefully eyed the two of them, not wanting to say a word, let her presence unnerve them enough not to ask them any pesky questions. Jyn briefly wondered to herself what her Papa would say if he knew that she made such a big deal over questions being asked.  She could tell herself all she wanted that her Papa would have understood the intense need for secrecy and the immense pressures of paranoia hanging at your neck.  But considering some of the shaky memories, she still had of her Mama and Papa; she thought that the two of them would disapprove of Jyn feeling like there was a lodestone hanging around her neck dragging her to the bottom of the cold river.

 Wanting to watch these people further to ensure that they did not see anything that should cause them further concern, Jyn crossed her arms and watched them silently daring them to take their time.

 WHOOSH

 Cassian rushed up to his friends and took the lone figure from Dacia and nodded silently at Jyn to indicate that he knew what his role was to be in this charade.  Smirking when he saw that the figure beside a barely alert Dacia was still knocked, he felt the satisfaction in knowing that his friend knew how to handle herself.  If Dacia did not want someone to wake up after a fight with her, then she knew damn well how to ensure that whoever her foe was should not wake up easily again.

 Taking the unconscious cargo into his arms and as Jyn was fond of pointing out, melted back into the shadows. Hitching the bundle further up in his arms, Cassian took a delicate sniff of the bundle in his arms. Screwing up his nose in distaste when he realised that the bundle smelled awful.  He would have to make sure that he could shower the man before Dacia began to speak to him.

 Cassian wondered whether or not Dacia would want the creature to know about the existence of both Cassian and Jyn.  So far, he knew that the creature had only seen Dacia, that might put them into a position of power.  Dacia could occasionally be cautious; if the woman wanted to keep all the cards and the ball firmly in her court, she might want to protect her two friends.  It looked like it would prove to be even more likely when he reminisced that Dacia could sometimes strike with an over-abundance of caution for her friends.  He wondered if Dacia knew how frustrating it was for a spy and a woman who was used to holding her safety in the palm of her hand, to be wrapped in bubble wrap?

 Something told him that Dacia was not aware, because for not all she wanted was to keep her friends safe, normally a practice that Cassian would approve of, but when it chafed at him with the restrictions he had had enough. Cassian could not claim to be completely sure, but he felt certain that Jyn felt the same way, to them it did not matter a great deal that it was done from a place of love, it still restricted their movements.  For now, though, Cassian was ready to take some movements for himself, he told himself that Dacia would not be too pissed off with him for taking the initiative.  Especially he gingerly thought, that this creature smelt quite so bad, it might make him smirk to think of it, but he was not interested in gassing Dacia while she tried to find some answers.  Ugh, the woman would no doubt thank him for ensuring that the being she was attempting to wring some answers from was not an affront to her nostrils.

 Satisfied that the woman would no doubt thank him, he nodded briefly to himself and altered his footsteps.  Making his way into the small medical lab, he eyed the creature and placed them delicately on the small cot bed before sealing the tube. Standing in front of the control panel, Cassian eyed it with some distaste.  Normally he would not want to perform this act, cleaning without water, but he was unsure what capabilities the creatures had.  He told himself that even Jyn frequently looked like a powerless and vulnerable person when she was asleep, there was no reason to suspect that this creature had been completely upfront with them.

 Shaking his head and deciding that he would rather not risk it, Cassian turned on the handy washer feature.  With some interest he cast an eye over the tube, watching as the small robots came out and got to work.  He may have watched this sight before, namely the robots beginning to clean without water or soap, he found it to be a distasteful occurrence.  Cassian may have been born in the far stars, running for his life constantly with the hope of gleaning just a tiny bit of information.  You could never get him to lie and say that water was not brilliant.

 He might struggle to find enough water when the girls were travelling, the frustrations of this Century meant that he would have to be incredibly careful how he filled up this spaceship with water.  For too long he had almost run the spaceship dry, only filling up halfway, unable to justify taking so much water without opening himself up for further questions.  As such, he and his friends had gotten used to rationing the water supply, following the old rules like ‘if it’s brown flush it down, if it’s yellow let it mellow’ wash your hair only when the itching gets unbearable.  More than anything else Cassian missed the times when he could simply luxuriate in a shower, scrubbing at his skin until his muscles screamed out for mercy.

 He missed being able to feel like he was once again clean, he missed being able to stand in the shower for hours and slowly clean.  It might seem a bit girly, but he took great delight in this Universe in stocking up on shower gels and bath bombs, to someone who even at home had been unable ever to feel completely clean it had seemed like a great luxury.  Cassian had loved when Dacia had been attending Culver University in Virginia; there he had been able to get longer showers.

 When Dacia had confessed to Jane who they were, he had been able to spend hours under the hot water, his skin going wrinkly in a desire to feel clean.  Jyn had been much the same; he guessed that possibly because the woman had spent so much time either in prisons or running from prisons, she shared a great love for showers.

 When a small beeping noise shook him from his heavy thoughts, he shook his head and refocused his attention on the small tube in front of him.  Upon seeing that the small robots had completed their tasks, he smirked to himself and pressed another button. Watching in some amusement as a small puff of air caressed the creature, Cassian felt that he had to wonder whether or not Dacia would find some amusement from his actions.  He hoped that when she smelt the fresh lemon scent in the interview room, she would find a small reason to smile.  Cassian was aware that his friend liked to surround herself with the scent of lemons in times of turmoil.  Hopefully, through doing this, the woman would be able to find a small amount of comfort (or even wry bemusement) when she caught a whiff of the creature.  

[cas-kingdom]

Ok… Don’t judge quality since I still feel horrible, but Sherlock and “Don’t start something you can’t finish”?

“Don’t start something you can’t finish,” Enola warned you with a piercing look that Sherlock fancied only the two of you could convey and understand.

You shot a particular look back, one that spoke a thousand words at once without you even needing to open your mouth. “Oh,” you said with a hint of amusement, “I’m perfectly capable of finishing this Aren’t I, Sherlock?”

“The truth of it often keeps me up at night,” Sherlock admitted with a mock sigh. He sat back in his seat and let a small smile tug at his lips as you suddenly looked victorious in many ways other than your obviously self-satisfied smirk.

“Well, then,” Enola said, smoothing the skirt of her dress as she crossed one leg over the other, “go ahead.”

The carriage ride from London to the Holmes’ holiday home in the Cotswolds made for excellent intellectual games, the three of you had decided. While Enola enjoyed the activities which catered to her genetic predisposition for crime-solving and decoding, something Sherlock was all too happy to partake in, you preferred putting your mind to good use within the world of literary heroes and riddle-solving, something Sherlock seemed happier to partake in, much to Enola’s exasperation. Though there was very little time in age between you and Enola, your differences, mostly how much your mental stimulation benefitted from opposing things, often amazed your brothers, Mycroft included. 

You had an hour or so left in the carriage, and you had sat dutifully through an anagram game Enola liked to play, but you had turned the tables now, insisting Shakespeare make his entrance. Enola knew you adored Shakespeare’s work and could quote many of his plays, but she also knew that Sherlock was much the same, albeit more experienced. She doubted you could best your brother in a game of wits such as this, but then, she had been away from her siblings for some time, living alone in London and finding her own path, and thus was mostly unaware of the bond you and Sherlock had revitalised between you. 

“You start,” you said, directing your question at Sherlock, who turned to gaze out the window, humming under his breath.

“‘Frailty, thy name is woman’,” he began confidently, looking back to you. Your eyes narrowed slightly in competition.

“Hamlet. ‘Misery acquaints a man with strange bedfellows.’”

“The Tempest. ‘If music be the food of love play on’.”

It continued as such, both of you shooting Shakespearean quotes at each other and answering with the play it had come from. You seemed to have forgotten Enola was there, instead staring pointedly at each other, attempting to reign the champion.

Enola busied herself staring out the window, which was in fact nothing short of boring, until the competition behind her took a spin. You had turned swiftly to tossing Shakespearean insults at each other, something she figured happened a lot, considering how adept you seemed to be at it.

She was pushed a little unceremoniously into the side of the carriage as you were pulled towards Sherlock, his hands suddenly—uncharacteristically, if Enola had anything to say for it, though, again, she seemed to not be privy to your relationship over the past year or so—tickling. You still spewed your insults, shooting them out your mouth alongside your uproarious laughter, and Enola, despite her raised brows and gaping mouth, couldn’t help but smile.

“Thank God Mycroft isn’t here,” was all she could say.

Enola Masterpost

send me the first sentence of a fanfic and i’ll write the next five, except i don’t know when to stop writing so i guarantee there’ll be more than five

[dramatic-squirrel]

Daminette December Day 5- Storybook/ Mayhem

@maribat-calendar-events

As Damian stepped off the plane, chaos greeted him. Wolves and fairies, pirates and angels, characters from a countless number of stories ran around. It didn’t take the world’s greatest detective to figure out that it was the work of an akuma. But what bothered Damian was how out of control the situation had become. The further he walked into Paris amidst the mayhem, the more he discovered the extent of the problem; nearly every citizen had been turned into a storybook character.

The more he saw, the faster he raced to the 21st arrondissement. The only explanation for why Paris was in such a state was that Marinette was in trouble. As he raced by, he saw castles and magical flowers, houses of gingerbread and giant shoes. In all honesty, the scenery would have made him nauseous if he had time to think, but fears for Marinette consumed his thoughts. 

It seemed like eons, although it was probably no more than an hour before Damian arrived in front of what used to be Sabine and Tom’s patisserie. Now it was a giant tower, covered in thorns. Thankfully, Damian had enough foresight to observe first before rushing in. A couple of minutes went by when a knight ran up to the tower. While the knight attempted to enter the tower, two foes suddenly appeared from within the former patisserie. 

A queen, with a dress of roses and thorns and a beast. No doubt Sabine and Tom, who had been affected by the akuma.

The knight steps forward announcing his purpose. “What ho! I have cometh to save thy cursed princess. Do thou be the monster I must slayest?” It seemed like the affected citizens were dedicated to playing out their role in the storybook. Although Sabine and Tom didn’t seem keen on talking as they quickly dispatched and beat the knight, Sabine by controlling the roses and Tom with brute strength. Two sentinels protecting the tower.

The short bout did confirm a few things for Damian. The first of which was that Marinette was in the tower. The second was that she was afflicted by the akuma before she could transform into Ladybug, or else Tom and Sabine wouldn’t be so protective. It also meant he couldn’t get in through the front door. Luckily, he always carried a grappling gun with him.

It took a bit of maneuvering but thankfully, the tower wasn’t impossibly tall, it let him reach a lone balcony facing the Seine. And on that balcony was Marinette as a princess, just like he suspected it would be. Not wanting to get the attention of her parents, or the akuma he whispered to her. “Marinette, you need to transform into Ladybug.”

Marinette acted a bit startled at the sudden appearance of a person on her balcony but she took it surprisingly well. “Ladybug? I’m not quite sure I know what you mean, grim stranger.” Her eyes seemed cloudy as if she wasn’t all there.

A sigh of exasperation left Damian’s mouth, it was just his luck that she wouldn’t remember anything. “Marinette, my name is Damian. I’ve come to help you. Do you have a pair of earrings on you by chance.”

“Ah, of course! You’re the knight meant to break my curse!” Marinette looked excited. “Now I won’t have to suffer anymore.”

The conversation was getting him nowhere. If she didn’t know where the earrings were, he couldn’t borrow them to transform. His only option was to play along. “Yes, I’ve come to break the curse. What is your curse, and what do I have to do in order to break it.”

“The curse?” Marinette didn’t say anything for a long time. “I’m not sure what the curse is, just that I am cursed. But it’s very simple to break. Like all curses, it can be broken with true love’s kiss.” She looked at him expectantly.

Was that all? A kiss? It seemed simply enough, but it felt wrong for some reason. And then it hit him that this wasn’t the solution to their problem. “Why do you need me to save you, Marinette?”

“What?”

“The Marinette I fell in love with never needed saving from me or anyone else, so why is it different for you, Princess Marinette?”

“Well, that’s because a curse can’t be lifted by one person.”

“But who said you needed to be free of your ‘curse’?” Damian took her hands in his. “You were never cursed. Clumsy, certainly, but cursed? Never. The miraculous never cursed you, they simply let you become who you’re meant to be.” He gave her a reassuring smile, and she sent a timid one back.

“Are you sure? I mean, I usually tend to screw things up.” Damian knew she was almost there, she just needed one more push.

“I’m positive. You’re Ladybug and you always fix things.” The fog cleared from her eyes and she finally took stock of where she was.

“Damian?”

“Yes, Angel?”

“Thanks for saving me.”

“I only helped. I’m sure you would have made it on your own in the end.” 

“Thanks anyways,” she leaned up and kissed his cheek. “I’ll see you later. Tikki! Spots on!” Taking on her usual role of a superhero, she left to go clean up the mayhem of the most recent akuma.

[inukag-archive]

HELLO! would it be possible to get a list of ONGOING FICS that you have to run (not walk) when there is an update (aka your favorites)?

Hello Nonnie!

Warm up your AO3 Subscribe (or FFN Alert) button and get ready to run as soon as you get a glorious Update Email. As per our standard the Fic Finders chose 20 stories and we grouped them based on how recently they have updated (within the last year, within the last three years, and more than three years).

ONE YEAR

Legacy by @fandomobsessions016 (M)

“She thinks this is a game,” Shippo stated weakly, his solemn comment cutting through the tense air. “Like… for fun.”

“Why the hell would you think that?” Inuyasha snapped, never taking his eyes off her, captivated by the storm that was forming inside them.

“Because that’s what I was told it was,” Kagome replied, looking back at him, her lip trembling as she felt her sanity begin to crumble to nothing more than ash in her mind.

“You were lied to.”

--

If We Fall Anyway by @soliska (T)

What if the shikon jewel didn’t exist and Naraku never came to be? What if Kagome fell down the well anyway and met a gruff, young inu-hanyou. Would they still become friends? What would be their story?

A tale told in snippets.

--

Monster by @akitokihojo (E)

A murderous demon taints the world with unforgivable crimes, taking out his weakness in secret. Unfortunately for him, it isn't that easy. He thinks he's unstoppable, but his arrogance blinds him to the war blooming before him. Kagome and Inuyasha, both powerful in their own way, and even more so together, step forward to try to put an end to things.

--

Thy Thralldom Come by TheMondayChild (E) Two sisters of royal blood are captured by the enemy. Their kingdom is no more. A cruel Prince has taken them both for his own, tempting them into depths unexplored by good girls. Their choice is clear: lose themselves or lose their lives.

--

Hit the Like Button by @omgitscharlie (E)

After a public breakup, successful social media influencer Kagome Higurashi is single for the first time since she started her career. Trying to cheer her friend up, Sango hosts a party in hopes of getting Kagome out of her stooper; unbeknownst to her, there's a certain person Sango wants her to meet.

Having a hard time moving on from his last relationship, simple mechanic Inuyasha Nōnēmu is dragged to a party hosted by the girlfriend of his long-time friend, Miroku. Begrudgingly accepting, he is unknowingly set up to meet one of Sango's friends.

Unfortunately, the set up does not go as hoped as the two know each other from previous, unsavory interactions.

--

One Hundred Ways to Say I Love You by @shinidamachu (G)

“and I'd choose you. In a hundred lifetimes, in a hundred worlds, in any version of reality, I'd find you and I'd choose you.” – Kiersten White. For each chapter, a prompt from the One Hundred Ways to Say I Love You list.

--

Supersum by @elkonigin (M)

Supersum (Latin): (1) As a remainder, to be left, to remain, to exist still; (2) to live after, outlive, to be still alive, to survive; (3) to be in excess, to be superabundant or superfluous; (4) to be present, to serve by being present, to assist

I am what is left over. I survived. I am superfluous. I support, advocate for, and defend.

My name is Kagome Higurashi.

--

Million Dollar Man by @inussunflower (E)

Inuyasha is a troubled UFC fighter, who has quickly found comfort in the lap of luxury. However, his temper had landed him in trouble numerous times already in his short career. Lately, his publicist Miroku has had enough of his self-destructive ways. Exasperated, Miroku has decided it's best for Inuyasha to enter a public relationship, in an attempt to soften his public image. Enter Kagome Higurashi, a barista who works at a cafe a few blocks away from Inuyasha's flashy Manhattan apartment. Tempers and frustrations fly as Kagome and Inuyasha struggle in adjusting to a loveless relationship, but will time change that?

--

Shelter by @lavendertwilight89 (E)

Feudal Era AU: Song fic inspired Stuck with You and Shelter

Inuyasha has been alone most of his life and one moonless night he gets caught up with a young priestess. She saves him and he, in return, helps her. What he doesn't realize is this priestess holds a lot of secrets which may or may not cost both of them their lives...

--

Writing on the Wall by @absent-angel (T)

Inuyasha doesn't believe in haunted houses – until he actually buys one. Figures. A story told in bits and pieces.

--

THREE YEAR

Out of the Woods by @dyaz-stories (T)

After the murder of Kikyo, the local priestess, the villagers start leaving offerings to the forest's god, who they think they've angered. Kagome, called to the village to replace her cousin, finds out, too late, just how far they're willing to go when they use her as the month's sacrifice. She decides not to go down without a fight — except that, instead of an angry god, she finds herself faced with a hungry half-demon, who's very annoyed he won't be getting a food offering for the month.

“What the fuck are you doing here? Where’s my food?”

“Oh I’m sorry, am I not a sacrifice satisfying enough?”

--

Only the Right Medicine by @dawnrider (E)

Modern AU: Kagome is new to the small town where humans and youkai live in relative peace. But there is a disruption of that peace in the late daiyoukai's hanyou son who is at risk of being overcome. Maybe the new addition to town is exactly what he needs...

--

Little Family by @xoxopandapanda (T)

Post Canon and A/U: Inuyasha and Kagome's family grows in time, starting with a little child who needs parents to teach him to love.

--

That Flesh of Mine by @witchygirl99 (M)

Kagome just wanted to get through high school in one piece. She never thought one night in the woods would change everything: that monsters were real. They were coming to the tiny town of Sakura for something important, something powerful. And one monster, with claws and fangs and blood-soaked silver hair, was the centre of all of it. Watching her with golden eyes.

--

Behind the Silk Screen by @eien-no-basho (E)

When a twist of fate brings the common-born priestess Kagome to serve Inuyasha, Divine Emperor of Japan, will she be able to help him claim his place on the throne and bring order to their country? Or will court intrigues and their own burgeoning feelings tear the two and their nation apart? A historical romance set in Japan’s Heian Era.

--

Demon Nature by @shardetector (E)

He spoke low and gently, although his voice was gruff with his demon still so close to the surface, “You saved me wench, now I’ll repay the favor.”

With that, his muscles bunched in his legs as he sprung up and out of the well, a red blur in the night as he made his way through the forest to his destination. His precious cargo held safely to his chest, as he raced to save her with his demonic speed.

--

One Last Ride by @lemonlushff (E)

Kagome comes home to Montana from her new life in California…Only to be greeted with hostility and the demons of her past. Some mistakes can never be forgiven. She just hopes that maybe this one can. Inspired by BrigidTheFae/Clearwillow's art - New Moon Ride. Inu/Kag. Rated E for the reasons you think. Art by BrigidTheFae/Clearwillow inside!

--

THREE YEARS+

Sachi by Quillwing717 (M) Inn owner InuYasha Kasahara is finally satisfied with his life. Undisturbed, isolated…and peaceful. Until the arrival of Kagome, half-frozen, partially clothed, and unconscious from a gunshot to the head. Worse…her face is chillingly familiar.

--

Freak Attraction: Seven Man Circus by @artistefish (M)

A macabre new circus has come to Japan, boasting the strangest collection of freaks ever seen. When Kagome and Inuyasha learn what these 'freaks' really are, they determine to set them free form their sadistic captors. But they need time, and in a city full of humans and no way to fight, their only choice is to become circus acts themselves.

--

Possession by Wheezambu (M) Ch. 38 updated. When Inuyasha uses the jewel to become a full demon, it has a tragic outcome. This story touches painful subjects of love betrayed, survival, and redemption. This is a dark, sometimes bitter story for emotionally adult readers who understand that even the best people sometimes lose themselves and the pain of returning to those feelings. In short, it's a love story.

--

PS This is post three in the Mod Favorite's Series: Mod Comfort Fics -=- Mod Must Reads

[theblueskyofthedawn]

Prompt: “Venti and Xiao talking to each other after Perilous Trail's story, and Xiao wanting to just talk to Venti for a sense of... closure, I suppose?”

It all started with Traveller.

Obviously.

In one of their occasional runs around Mondstadt for Guild's daily commissions, they carelessly mentioned that they just returned from the Chasm (concerning by itself), being stuck there for several weeks (that weren't weeks, as he'd seen them just the day before yesterday) and that Xiao got stuck with them (they just counted everyone who was with them there, but of course his mind latched onto the one important to him and refused to budge), which was the point he turned from general ever-present vague worry to a serious one.

"And you?.." Venti trailed off, letting them fill the silence by themself.

"And we barely made it out," they shrugged, finishing one last slime off.

"If not for Xiao, we would've been stuck forever!" Paimon chimed in, flying closer now that the skirmish concluded.

"You know, Paimon," Traveller abruptly said with that peculiar contemplating look on their face that meant they considered if what they wanted to tell was appropriate, "could you bring us some apples? I'm dying to have an apple!"

"What? Now?!" she flew up-and-down, exasperated. "But..?"

"Pretty please?" they could make quite a pleading face.

"U-u-urgh, fine, fine!" Paimon hazardly flew away, angrily muttering all the while, her voice quieting with the distance.

Traveller turned to Venti, suddenly solemn, and he couldn't help but feel dreadful for it.

"What she meant," they intoned, slow, "that without Xiao’s sacrifice we would've been stuck forever".

Winds stilled along with his heart.

"If not for Zhongli's," Morax's, his mind supplied, "timely intervention, he would've been anyway".

Venti wheezed, not having noticed when he stopped to breathe and nodded:

"Thank you".

He didn't clarify what for.

Traveller nodded in response:

"Any time".

He nudged them in the side, never one to dwell on hard thoughts for too long:

"To one with news from windless lands, this one will sing at thy request!"

They looked entirely unimpressed, and he laughed, relief flooding his body.

Paimon arrived on the horizon with the armful of apples, still visibly angry.

///

Xiao himself shimmered into existence with the first sunlight.

Venti waited for him in the middle of Guyun, idly playing his lyre to the waves and moon, as was their little tradition.

Kegs of the Ruin Hunter uselessly whirred on the sand.

"I often think of memories," Xiao thoughtfully let out, settling down by his side, "but rarely they are not mine".

Venti hummed, turning, and was terribly surprised to see him that close. Already?

The yaksha sighed and let himself melt into the other's figure, laying his head into the crook of the bard's neck and looking at the ocean, steadily lapping away.

"What do you mean, my warrior?" Venti carefully hugged him back, delighted but anxious.

"Bosacius' shard was still in the Chasm," Xiao replied, contemplative. "I looked so young in his eyes".

The name left the bard floundering for a second, but then it clicked.

Chasm was a wind"less" place, after all.

"If so, your search was not for naught, as treasures found keep thy alive..." he chuckled, intertwining their fingers intentionally slowly, only for the yaksha to grasp at his hand in return, like he was afraid it'll be gone if he doesn't. "Liebling?"

"Remind me I'm not burdening anyone?" Xiao turned his head to hide his eyes in his partner's neck.

"If anything, they are burdening you," Venti immediately fired, tugging him closer into the embrace. "Your case is noble just as bright, but where's your minute for the light?"

Responding exhale tickled his collarbone.

Seagulls' cries echoed overhead.

"...I will die the same, one day," the yaksha muttered.

"We'll see!" the bard chuckled. "But if, so be it. One day". Not today.

[not-so-innocent-bi-sander]

Animal Attraction

..i am about to run out of one shot/ficlets to post before I get into the chapter fics I wrote during NCN.  Roceit - ficlet  Witch au, there’s cats, heavily implied that Roman is a himbo (bonus points if you can name the two places I stole the last names from)  — Janus was striding across the grounds of the property, the ancestral home of his family line. The Cromwells went back centuries, and their inherent magic always drew them back to this place. It was a large, gorgeous estate, shaded with dense tree cover to keep unwanted guests out. Not that that was all that necessary, the wards and sigils in place kept most from getting near without them even realizing. 

He found himself in his garden, taking a moment to look over his herbs and plants.. They were growing well, but that wasn’t why he was out here. 

Once the witch finished his lap of the grounds, he made his way back inside with a sigh and and exasperated pinch to the bridge of his nose. Oh well. It seemed his boyfriend had gotten lost yet again. Janus would have loved to say that it was because Roman was a Windemere, and that the prideful Cromwell family had bewitched the home to make it especially difficult for a descendant of a rival magical line to locate.. But no, that wasn’t the case. Roman was just amazingly talented at getting hopelessly lost. Even with magic of his own. 

Roman would be fine, Janus knew that. He just had concerns that he would wind up trapped in a hole or something. Gorgeous, kind, thoughtful, confident, theatrical... There was no doubt that his boyfriend was all of these things. But especially intelligent? Skilled at navigation? ...Perhaps a bit less.

Janus just ran a hand through his hair, making his way to the kitchen to calm himself with a cup of tea. He stepped over or around at least three cats on the way - and that was only counting ones specifically in his path, not all of the ones he saw on his way. Felines always seemed drawn to the home and he didn’t mind the company, so they were permitted to come and go as they liked. He made his way to the kettle, getting the water on and making himself his mug once it was ready, then dropping his spoon on the counter beside him and settling back against the counter to get that first calming sip. 

He was on his second mug when a large orange cat that he was sure he had never seen before flopped undignified through the window. He only raised an eyebrow as he watched it gather its bearings and begin to meow at him with gusto. 

“...I’m not going to give you anything, you can find your own food like all the others.” He gestured off, knowing there was food placed all about the grounds. But the cat didn’t give up, still yelling up at him. Janus just rolled his eyes, going back to ignoring it as he drank his tea. 

It didn’t seem to like being ignored, clumsily making its way up onto the counter top to yell at him from closer. But Janus held firm. It took a few moments of this before the cat walked away from him and down the counter, picking up the witch’s discarded spoon in its mouth and carrying it to the sink. It didn’t drop it in the closer side of the sink, but in the further half of the dual basin. 

Suddenly a memory occurred to him, and he could perfectly recall his boyfriend’s voice saying something he probably had told him at least thrice weekly since they’d been living together. “Jan, the dirty dishes go in the right side of the sink.”

Janus stared at the large cat, which was looking back at him almost apologetically with those big green eyes. With a long sigh, he put the mug down and dragged a hand down his face before crossing his arms, his expression exhausted. 

“...Roman, how did you manage this again?”

—

@authordreaming13 @tinysidestrashcaptain @nekoabi @sanders-sides-thuri @notalwaysthevillian @justanotherpurplebutterfly @emphoenixcat @jughead-is-canonically-aroace @thepusheenqueen @luna-lovegood-wrakspurt-invasion @tree4life25 @kaymischief25 @anastasialestina @logicalpasta @punch-you-with-friendship @coffeestudylive @swlotakulady34 @adfandertime @bangthekobrakid @ultimate-queen-of-fandoms2 @mirror2thespirit @the-anti-virgil @onyourmark-iplier @darkle-elkrad @zoeyheys @fangirl00193 @totally-not-using-a-fake-name @msu82 @thegnatnat @alana-of-the-cartwrights @riderofblackdragons @louisthewarlock @storytellerofuntoldlegends @damienswifeolicitydallysgirl @hamster-corn @nightmarejasmine @hope-thy-nope @grey-lysander @nammies @satanblessi @what-in-gaeas-realm @that-one-transguy @youre-lazy-and-youre-gay0-0 @karmels-stuff @adorably-angsty @musikasworld @inanoceanofpeople @lowkeyvirgilobsessed @0beansprout0 @pumpkinminette @corkeecoderyt @entitydark @hedgiehoggles @muliphandomer @ao-koshka @midnightsdarkangel @lovebug5151 @asymmetricalgarbage8888 @ymmm-someone @prismartist @lostchoirchild @nebulastarss @angels-and-dreams @abby5577 @imabad-b-youcantkillme @princessbelix @gattonero17 @melodiread @ollyollyoxinfree @baby-duck-boy @rabbitsartcorner  @fandomsofrandom @cas-is-a-hunter @starlaite @mrbubbajones @itsfrenchfornothankyou @thefivecalls @arrestjellyfish @deceits-left-glove @aliceingarbageisland @wildhorsewolf @anxious-l0ser @autumnpleaves @flamingfawkes @distressedandeasilyimpressed @the17thmeatball @tranquil-space-ninja

[cheesyficwriter]

hey there! I cannot express my love for your work (Isolated and lost in translation were *chef's kiss). Could you please write #75 for Romione? Thank you so much, I hope you have tons of cheese:)

Hi @shybrunettepainter! Thank you so much for reading and for your kind words 💜 what a fun prompt that definitely challenged me a bit! Just to preface, I am not well-versed in Shakespearean language, but I figured neither is Ron, so I definitely channeled him here 😉 hope you enjoy!

Prompt #75 - Speaks in a terrible Shakespearean/Elizabethan style to woo/make the other laugh.

Thee Maketh Me Happy

Hermione closed and locked her trunk, just as a knock on her bedroom door sounded. Hermione grinned and practically ran to open the door, revealing a beaming Ron on the other side. He had just arrived at her parents' home, with his father, to pick her up for a visit to the Burrow. They were two weeks away from starting their sixth year at Hogwarts and Hermione would be staying with the Weasleys for the remainder of the summer. 

“Hiya, Hermione!” Her stomach flipped wildly as she took in Ron's appearance. How was it possible that he had grown even taller in the last month or so since she had seen him? Despite the fact that he towered over her, he seemed to be filling out a bit more and she could make out his increasingly muscular frame under his tight shirt. 

They stood there awkwardly in the doorway for a mo, both unsure of what to do next, until Ron finally let out a strangled chuckle and opened his arms, inviting her in for a hug. She eagerly wrapped her arms around him tight and sighed. 

"I've missed you," she heard him muffle into her hair. 

"I've missed you, too."

Ron released his grip on her, but Hermione noticed he didn't step back. "Well, are you all packed and ready to go? Wait...it's you. Of course you are," Ron teased. 

Hermione swatted at him but gestured him inside her room. "Yes, I could probably use some help with my trunk."

When she turned around, she found that Ron wasn't listening, instead his eyes were raking curiously across the shelves of books she had lined up against the wall. 

"What is Shaks-spar?" Ron inquired as he retrieved a dusty and tattered hardbound book from the shelf.

"It's pronounced Shakespeare."

"Fine, then. What is it?"

"Not what, who. William Shakespeare was an extraordinary muggle playwright and poet, who has written some of the most beautiful works of English literature out there. I mean Romeo and Juliet, Hamlet, Macbeth…"

"Who's Romeo? Who's Juliet?" Ron asked, confused. 

"They’re characters from one of his plays. A tragic love story…" 

“Hold on a second, tragic? What’re you doing reading this depressing shite?” Ron wrinkled his nose in disgust, holding out the book at arm's length. 

“It’s a work of art, Ron!” Hermione responded, exasperated. 

"Yeah, well, not interested if it's intent is to crush my soul."

Hermione rolled her eyes at his theatrics. "I didn't realize you were interested in books."

"Ha, bloody, ha," he stuck out his tongue at her playfully. Hermione couldn't help but smile before pointing to the cover,

“That book contains a list of Shakespeare's most timeless quotes, as well as provides English translation.”

"It's in another language?" 

“Shakespearean -- otherwise known as early modern English. Most of the words are still used today in standard English.”

"I bet you a galleon that I can make you laugh with this rubbish." He sent her a challenging smirk that made her weak in the knees. Yet, she firmly held her stance, not willing to give in to the blasphemous retorts spewing out of his mouth. 

"It is not rubbish, Ron! It's a work of art!" She repeated, almost stomping her foot in irritation.

"Let's see, then!" Ron cleared his throat dramatically, as he flipped to a random page. He planted his finger on a quote and began reading, "Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day? Thou art more lovely and more temperate." He squinted his eyes at the page he just read from. "What the bloody fuck is that supposed to mean?"  

Hermione sighed heavily. Her visit with Ron was going well so far. Sarcasm intended. "It signifies long-lasting love, that goes beyond a single season."

"Then why doesn't he just say that?"

Because it's poetry," Hermione responded curtly through gritted teeth. 

He only hummed in response and kept reading. "All that blisters is not gold."

"Glitters. All that glitters is not gold."

"What? That's not what it says!"

"Yes it does. You read it wrong." 

Ron pursed his lips as he reviewed the text. "Oh, well, bugger me. Here's another -- what's in a name? A rose by any other name would smell as sweet...Rose. That's a pretty name, I guess."

Hermione smiled. "Yes, it is." 

They locked eyes for a moment before Ron shook his head and returned to his reading. "Uneasy lies the head that wears the crown...if I had a crown, I'm not sure I would feel uneasy but that's just me…"

Hermione exhaled loudly, clearly fed up with his sarcastic comments. "It's simply saying that being royal comes with a lot of responsibilities and having those responsibilities can be daunting." 

"Off with his head!" Ron shouted with vigor. 

"You think you're so clever, don't you?" 

"Oh Hermione, I know I am. And just to prove my point further, let's see if I can make you blush, yeah?" He flipped to the section with word translations and spent a few moments deciphering, his eyebrows scrunched up adorably. 

"Okay, here's one to start with. I like thy...curly hair?" Ron kinked an eyebrow up at her expectantly. 

"Acceptable." Hermione remained neutral with her face but secretly gushed inside at how Ron has just outwardly admitted he liked her hair. 

Ron's eyes lit up. "Brilliant!" He went on to search for more. 

"Uh...thy eyes art like chocolate…do I detect a smidge of color on your face, Miss Granger?" Ron's blue eyes sparkled back at her as he studied her face. 

"What? N-no...just keep going!" 

"Thee art...the smartest...wench...in the whole land." Ron paused in between words as he checked the book. 

"Wench?"

"That's what it says right here!" He pointed to the translation of woman on the page. 

Hermione crossed her arms and raised her eyebrows, almost daring Ron to try again. 

He obviously took the bait as he offered one more, leaning in close, "Thee maketh me happy." Ron smiled brilliantly at her and Hermione thought her heart might possibly explode. 

"What are you saying, exactly?" Hermione breathily whispered, not able to contain the flush of pink that crept onto her cheeks.

"Aha!" Ron pointed a finger in her face to triumphantly show victory. He clearly had forgotten her question, so Hermione brushed him off.

"You did not win, you were just standing so ridiculously close to me…"

He looked down at the book one last time before cheekily stating, "The lady doth protests too much, methinks."

"Oh, honestly!"