#Laurence was sat reading his book | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

write-tama · 6 months ago

Text

"a long day at work." (MCD Scenarios)

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ ( MCD!characters) x (guard!reader)

sypnosis ; security has been intensified due to neighboring villages are in fear due the threat of O’Khasis, meaning that you haven’t been able to spend some alone time with your partner. But finally, you’ve been let out of work early, which means you have a night to your lover!

containing ; Laurence Zvhal, Garroth Ro’meave, Dante (for some reason I can't find his last name?!). Established relationship, immense fluff! Reader is referred as you/yours.

author’s note ; hello MCD side of tumblr! i decided to post this just as for fun and to let out my little obsession on MCD lately. Pardon me if some things sound out of character I haven’t watched the series since I was like.. Ten maybe?! and I’m currently rewatching s1. But anyway, hope you enjoy!

9.26.24 | 2.7k words

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

LAURENCE

Despite you two being guards, you’ve been stationed on the other side of Phoenix Drop since he is one of the head guards that stands alongside Lord Aphmau. But finally, after what felt like so long, the two of you finally were able to see each other tonight. Laurence was home before you. Being such the romantic he is, he had dimly lit candles scattered along the house and a bouquet of your favorite flowers sitting on the table, waiting for your arrival. He even stopped by Emmalyn’s library to pick out the new set of books she had purchased recently.

He was patiently sitting on the couch, undressed to a white long-sleeve cotton shirt and baggy pants. You came through the door, completely exhausted with your weapon slung over your shoulder. The sound of the door creaking was enough to make Laurence stand up immediately before grabbing the flowers from the table.

“There you are, my love..” He purred. The feeling of his arms wrapping around your body was enough for you to drop your weapon and to bury your face into his addicting scent. He pushed the door closed behind you before reluctantly pulling away to present you with his gift you didn’t even notice at first.

You couldn’t help the giant grin forming on your face as your hand rested upon his cheek. “I missed you too, sweetheart.” you smiled. You took ahold of the bouquet, admiring the selection. “I can see Cadenza helped you out tonight.” You chuckled, feeling the silk ribbon that tied the flowers’ stems together. A content huff blew through his nostrils as he buried himself into your palm.

“Hey.. Can a man not do his best for his loveliest?” He said, playfully rolling his eyes. He turned his face around to kiss the inner part of your palm. “I would’ve done more for you, you know that, but I figured that we should just have a night in bed together. Just you and me.” A comment like that was enough to send a flutter through your chest.

After a standstill of silent kisses and snuggles, the two of you finally headed upstairs to the bedroom to unwind for a night of comfort. You hung all your armor next to Laurence’s armor stand before joining him in bed. On your nightstand was a new collection of different novels from neighboring villages.

“I remember the last time we spoke, you said that you practically read every book from the library, but this morning I helped Brandon unload a crate of books Emmalyn had ordered, so I figured I’d pick some out for you.” Laurence smiled, his voice a bit lower now as he was relaxing into bed. You joined him on your side of the bed, letting the warm covers wrap around your legs. As you looked through the selection of three books, a warm tint deepened your complexion.

“You shouldn’t have..” You mumbled. “Hey! Did you ask Emmalyn for permission before taking these books? One of these books are all the way from Scaleswind!”

Laurence sat up before burying his face into your side, sighing. “Yes, your majesty.” He sarcastically replied. “She figured it as a kind gesture for all of the work we’ve been doing. Now shush up and read me a bedtime story!” He playfully remarked, sounding a bit like a child. Despite his snarky little attitude (that in all honestly, made you love him even more), you decided to start on the book from Scaleswind that way you could return it earlier than anticipated. With a candle illuminating the pages, you softly read to him. He laid down beside you, a protective arm wrapped around your waist, but at the same time cuddling you. Eventually, Laurence fell silent. You had assumed he fell asleep, so you decided to place a bookmark in between the pages before blowing out the candle next to you. You properly laid down next to him, burying yourself into his chest.

As your eyes fluttered close, you heard a soft voice call out your name.

“My love?” Laurence mumbled.

“Yes, Laurence?” You quietly replied, not wanting to break out of your exhausted-state.

“I love you.. After all these years, I never thought I’d be with the person of my dreams. Sleep well, my angel..”

With that, he fell right to sleep. Your heart skipped a beat as heat rushed to your face. Gently, you scoot up and brushed a tuff of hair from his face.

“I love you too..” You spoke barely above a whisper.

Maybe it was the dark playing tricks with you, but the corners of Laurence’s lips tugged into a gentle and content smile. <3

GARROTH

The guards of Phoenix Drop work hard, but there was not a single doubt that Garroth worked ten times harder. For most nights, you were the one that arrived home first. Despite your protests against your own exhaustion, you would fall asleep before he got home. You would only feel the shift of the bed in the middle of the night to signify that he had made it home safely, but again, before you could wake up, he was right back to work.

But thank Lady Irene herself, Garroth finally had a night off. Brian had offered to take the night shift from him, seeing at how exhausted Garroth seemed lately. Along with that, Dante also seemed to notice your exhaustion which is why he offered to take up your shift as well. Whether the two conspired with one another to finally give you two a day-off was a discussion for later.

Garroth was off of work first, and it felt abnormal. The moment he placed his sword into the racks and stepped out of the guards’ station, he felt a sense of emptiness. As he trailed himself back to his house, he thought of what he could do for you once you got home. He figured maybe a homemade dinner together would suffice. Though he had to admit, it’s been quite some time since he cooked a proper meal for himself, epecially for another. He stopped by the farms and local butcher for some groceries, and then arrived at his abode.

He decided on a simple meal— a steak with a side of vegetables and mashed potatoes with a basket of freshly baked bread he picked up from Kawaii~Chan. The table had a white cloth decorating its surface with the basket in the middle, two plates on either side, and a candle to light up the scene. He was nearly finishing up frying your steak when you had walked in, your helmet by your hip.

“Garroth!” You exclaimed, a bit surprised. The excitement had woken you up from your tired state as you dropped your helmet onto the wood floor and hugged him tight.

“Good evening, my knight.” Garroth grinned eagerly, just as thrilled to see you. He ran an idle hand through your hair. “You’re just in time for dinner. Go get undressed and take a seat.” Not wanting to waste another second, you picked up your helmet and immediately placed your armor away, dressing down to some comfortable attire. By the time you headed back downstairs, Garroth had placed your steak on your plate and he had taken his seat.

“Garroth, this smells amazing.” You complimented, a bit amused. You had never seen Garroth cook a full meal before, in fact, you can’t recall ever seeing Garroth cook at all. Garroth chuckled, gesturing his hand to take a seat in front of him. You took your seat in front of him, admiring the dish before you. The steak looked juicy and cooked just the way you liked it. The vegetables were fresh and vibrant of color. Even the potatoes looked thoroughly mushed and creamy!

“Heh, yeah..” Garroth chuckled nervously, scratching the back of his neck. “Back in O’Khasis, we still were taught how to cook despite having our own chefs. It was important to my father that we were skilled in even the most basic necessities. My mom just enjoyed spending time together though.” He smiled, thinking back on the fond memories.

You decided to finally dig in. One taste of that steak and it felt like the flavors were melting on your tongue. You squealed in excitement, not having something as delicious as the dish before you. “G-Garroth, this tastes amazing—! Even more than amazing, actually! I don’t even know how to describe it.” You cried. You could barely express your appreciation verbally as you savored and tasted every bite. Garroth’s face flushed in a bright red as the candle light illuminated his face.

“T-Thank you..” he stuttered. “I was nervous that maybe I had lost my skill after years, but I guess I still got it, yeah?” He joked. You couldn’t help but chuckle at his shyness. The two of you spent the rest of the night chowing down on such a gourmet dish, and telling each other the adventerous stories the two of you have been through, enjoying a perfect night together at last. <3

DANTE

Dante, being fresh out of training and this being his first real job as a guard, worked extremely hard and long hours to prove himself as a worthy knight. You fell in love with him the moment he walked into the village, but you didn’t realize how intensely he worked. Some nights after duty, he wasn’t able to say much other than to crash into bed. It’s not like you had any more energy than him. The paranoid feeling of invasion washed over you as you were constantly on guard duty, patrolling through the outskirts of Phoenix Drop.

One evening, despite Dante’s protests, Garroth had ordered Dante to take the night off. “Dante, you’re a profound knight despite your short-term experience. It’s time you take a break from all that work you’ve been doing.” The head guard assured, placing both palms on his shoulders. Dante was about to protest again, but his mind started to wander. He’s been doing all this work, and yet, he doesn’t recall having a night with you since he offered his love to you! Dante felt like a fool, and he knew that you’ve been hard at work as well. Dante sucked in air through his nostrils before sighing in defeat.

“You’re right, I.. I need to go.. Shoot, I need to go!” Without a word of explanation, he ran out of the guard tower, throwing his sword into the racks. Garroth stood, sort of frozen as he watched Dante run out the door. Laurence, who was snacking on a piece of bread, came downstairs and stood next to Garroth.

“Welp, there goes one our of guards. Might as well pull Dale out of retirement.” Laurence joked.

Dante, who was still dressed in full armor, bursted into Kawaii~Chan’s cafe, in search of desserts and treats. He practically threw diamonds at the poor girl, who, luckily, just finished prepping freshly baked goods for her shop. Dante grabbed the first basket he spotted and ran out the door, quickly shouting his gratitude.

He remained as discreet as possible, looking around the village hoping that you wouldn't see him off duty. The blue-haired knight knocked on Brandon's door, beckoning for help before running inside the two of you’s shared home. He grabbed a blanket, a lantern, and a spare bottle of wine he had bought from Logan a while ago.

The plan was to set up a date night on the beach. With Brandon's “expertise,” he was able to set up a lovely picnic by the the glistening shore. The red and white checkered blanket laid flat on the sand with the basket and wine in the middle, rose petals scattered around, and the grace of the moonlight completing the scene. After Brandon and him finished decorating, he told Brandon to tell Garroth to lay you off of tonight's duties in hopes that you would be present for tonight's surprise date. Dante sat eagerly by the shore, waiting upon your arrival.

You were running head-on to the docks in a panic with your sword handle tight in your fist. “Dante!” you cried. “I came as soon as I could! Is everything alri—?!” before you could finish, you met with his deep blue eyes and the moon’s light illuminating his figure. You paused in your tracks, both in awe and confusion. “Dante..?” you called out his name again. At this point, you weren't quite sure if you were awake.

“Hey...” He nervously chuckled. He stood up and walked towards you, leaving his footprints in the grainy sand. He offered his hand towards you, thankful he was still wearing his armor otherwise you feel his palm building up with sweat. You reluctantly took his hand before he lead you to the picnic. You gasped at the sight, not expecting such a romantic gesture on what felt like a typical night.

“Dante.. This is.. Oh my goodness..” The words couldn't muster up in your throat as you admired the scenery. The warm-colored lantern contrasted beautifully with the moon’s cool-blue light.

“I-I'm sorry if it was such short notice.. Garroth gave me the night-off and—” before Dante could continue with his anxious rambling, you shushed him with the biggest, more reassuring hug you could.

“Are you kidding me? This is amazing, Dante! Oh my Irene!” without another word, you took Dante’s hand and led him to the blanket, where the two of you sat comfortably. You two wasted no time blabbing the night away while chowing down on Kawaii~Chan’s delicious desserts.

As you rambled on about your knightly whereabouts, you noticed that Dante took a pause in eating and was staring deeply at you.

“Dante..?” you called out his name, tilting your head a little. Dante blinked before sitting up straight.

“Nothing.. I just.. You look gorgeous in the moonlight, love.” Dante softly admitted. A blush formed on your cheeks, and you couldn't help but look away.

“I-I could say the same for you..” you meekly replied. “Just— don't scare me like that again, okay!”

Dante stared back at you, a little clueless. “Scare you—?” it was as if a flick of lever, Dante realized what you were referring to. “Oh, Irene, what did Brandon do..” He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

Realizing that it wasn't Dante’s fault, you sighed and explained. “Well.. It wasn't just Brandon.” you admitted. “Laurence and Brandon ran up to me in a panic, exclaiming that O’Khasis had docked and I needed to be there immediately because you were hurt! I can see why I was foolish believing those two of all people.” you rolled your eyes as you trailed off.

Dante let out a deep sigh before scooting closer to you. “I'll be having a talk with them tomorrow.. For now, let's just enjoy this moment, just you and me, okay?” he gently assured, wrapping an arm around and rubbing your shoulder.

You couldn't help but agree, letting your eyes flutter close as the two of you listened to the calming waves of the sea. <3

A/N ~ thank you so much for reading! There's currently a hurricane in my area, so it was nice using this as a distraction :) I hope you enjoyed! Reblogs, like, and even replies are super duper appreciated :3

#Minecraft diaries #Aphmau #mcd laurence #laurence zvahl #mcd garroth #garroth ro'meave #mcd dante #mcd x reader #Laurence zvahl x reader #Garroth Ro’meave x reader #Dante x reader #Minecraft

125 notes · View notes

nrandomartist · 2 years ago

Text

Strand of hair

Gehrman x gn reader

So, I never actually wrote anything, just few things for myself, but after seeing that Gehrman doesn't get too much attention I thought about posting this little story.

The story is happening in Gehrman's old hunter glory days, before Fishing Hamlet, beast plague etc...

Reader is addressed as "Hunter". It's sfw, wholesome, fluff short story. No depression 👍

===========

Gehrman sat alone in the workshop, reading a old rusty book that held secrets and knowledge of history of old Yharnam. The soft glow of candlelight illuminated the pages, casting a faint light around the first Hunter's figure. Lost in his reading, Gehrman was unaware of his surroundings in the moment.

The hunter, with their easygoing attitude and a smile that could melt hearts, entered the workshop, their presence bringing a breath of fresh air to the dusty space. Spotting Gehrman lost in his book, they approached with a mischievous twinkle in their eye.

"Hey there, Gehrman. What fascinating piece of literature has captured your attention this time?" Hunter asked, their voice filled with genuine curiosity.

Startled by the interruption, Gehrman looked up from his book, meeting Hunter's warm gaze. A small smile tugged at the corner of his lips, glad for the company.

"It's a book of history of Old Yharnam, It's really interesting. I thought I would lend it to Laurence but I have feeling that he already read it." Gehrman replied, with his gentle calm voice. "There's always something new to learn, even after all these years."

Hunter sat beside a nearby worktable, relaxed, as they engaged Gehrman in conversation. The topic of their discussion drifted from the art of hunting to the beauty of the moonlit nights in Yharnam. Gehrman found himself entranced by Hunter's words, their carefree demeanor drawing him in like a moth to a flame.

As their conversation was reaching an end, Hunter's gaze softened, as they saw a strand of hair slowly fall into Gehrman's face. Their hand reached out instinctively, gently brushing a stray strand of Gehrman's silvery hair from his face to behind his ear. It was a simple, gesture that caused Gehrman's heart to skip a beat.

Caught off guard by the sudden tenderness, Gehrman's breath hitched. His gaze flickered between Hunter's eyes and the floor, his cheeks color with a faint blush. His voice came out in a hushed, almost breathless whisper.

"Good Hunter, I... Thank you," Gehrman managed to utter, his voice laced with a mix of gratitude and shyness. "Your presence... it brings warmth to this old workshop."

The Hunter gently smiled, a playful glimmer dancing in their eyes. "It's my pleasure, Gehrman. We're good friends after all!"

Before Gehrman could gather his thoughts and respond, Hunter excused themself, that they still have an urgent task that demanded their attention. With a parting smile, they left Gehrman alone, his heart pounding with flustered confusion. Even he doesn't know what it is.

With a sigh, Gehrman closed the book and leaned back, his thoughts consumed by the hunter who had captured his attention.

Left in the wake of Hunter's departure, Gehrman's thoughts whirled like a wild hunt. The workshop suddenly felt colder, as if the warmth had left with Hunter's absence. He touched his ear, still feeling the lingering sensation of Hunter's touch.

And as the candlelight flickered, casting dancing shadows upon the worn walls, Gehrman realized that his heart had begun a journey into unknown place. A place where passion and love bloomed amongst the chaos of the hunt.

#bloodborne #gehrman the first hunter #bloodborne gehrman #gehrman #gehrman x reader #bloodborne x reader #x reader #gn reader #sfw little post #sfw #fluff

57 notes · View notes

sofystar123 · 1 year ago

Text

Here’s the prologue of my first book of my Minecraft diaries origins fanfic called Minecraft diaries origins book 1: The forgotten divine warrior and it is on wattpad under Sophiestar123 in case you want to read it.

~Aphmau’s POV~

As we quickly ran away far into the forest away from the wolf tribe as all of us were tired and out of breath from all the running and we stopped at a lake nearby where I sat down and Katelyn lied Caleb down on the ground. I saw that Laurence was looking at himself in the water horrified of what happened as I calmly approached him.

“Look at me I’m a monster.” Laurence said

“Laurence no your not.” I said

“Your just saying that because you don’t want to believe it’s true.” He replied

“Laurence stop it. Look at me you are not a monster you weren’t in control of yourself and you let your emotions get the better of you and I get why you were angry.” I said

“Yeah especially since I felt that I couldn’t protect you.” Laurence said as all of a sudden Balto came over angry.

“Alright Zvhal you better explain yourself!” Balto yelled out as he pushed Laurence against a tree and pinned him. You know being his usual hot headed self.

“Balto stop it right now, Laurence had a reason of what happened over there left him explain himself.” I said pushing him a little.

“Fine.” Balto said still annoyed and angry.

“Onii~Chan what’s happening?” Caleb asked confused.

“Nothing Caleb don’t worry about it okay.” Laurence said smiling as he patted his head.

“Alright good news the werewolves didn’t follow us also I would like to know what’s going on here.” Katelyn said

~Laurence’s POV~

“Alright then it’s time I tell you guys the truth about where I’m really from.” I said as I had never thought I would have to bring this topic back up again.

“So what is it!?” Balto asked impatiently.

“Calm down.” Katelyn said nudging him.

“The truth is I’m not human at all, I’m from the Nether and I was born a shadow knight.” I said as everyone looked shocked including Aphmau.

“But that’s impossible shadow knights aren’t born there people who died and came back.” Aphmau said

“And that’s were your wrong.” Cadenza said carrying firewood and placing it down.

“Yes it is possible for shadow knights to give birth and to also pass down immortality.” I said

“Anyways continue.” Balto said

“Well it all started when we were escaping the Nether.” I said remembering.

-Flashback-

As we were running I turned around and saw that the guards had gotten pass the barrier of fire I created.

“Guys there gaining on us.” Dante said worried.

“It’s fine you guys once we we get to Metli we’re going to be safe. So just be calm.” I said

“Laurence how can you tell us to be calm when we’re literally getting chased right now also how do you know if we’re even going to end up at Metli, who knows where we are going to end up once we cross the portal.” Dante explained

“Dante has a point if we are caught by the guards then we’re screwed however if we do manage to escape but someone finds out we’re shadow knights then we’re definitely screwed.” Cadenza said

“Don’t worry we’ll make it.” I said trying to focus on the positive.

~Flashbacks ends~

“So that’s what happened?” Caleb asked

“Yeah basically.” I said

“You didn’t even start at the beginning.” Balto complained

“He has a point.” Aphmau said

~Cadenza’s POV~

“Well on the bright side Caleb was entertained.” Laurence said as I facepalmed.

“Laurence this is serious and since we’re telling the truth of where we actually came from I’m taking it from here.” I said as Laurence looked annoyed that I was taking over.

“Okay it started when I was 14 years old…”

2 notes · View notes

parcequecestnotreprojeeeet · 2 years ago

Note

Hello! It's Winter! I decided to change it up and write another fluffy piece.

Super Woman

He was proud of himself this morning. He had woken up extra early to cook a homemade meal for his wife. Today was not a special occasion, it was just something he wanted to do. She always took care of everyone in their family so it was time to treat her to breakfast in bed. It was the least he could do.

“Brigitte? Brigitte?” Emmanuel whispered, setting the tray down on her makeup table. He was surprised to find her still asleep at this time.

“I don’t feel very well,” she opened her eyes and groaned. Her head was pounding and she felt nauseous and dizzy. It couldn’t have been food poisoning, as they had eaten the same meals the day before.

He rushed to her side and tried to help her up, but she brushed him off. “Please, just leave me. The room won’t stop spinning.”

Suddenly, she remembered what they had planned for the day. “Oh no! We have to cancel on Laurence!”

A week prior, Laurence had asked Brigitte and Emmanuel if they could babysit her three children. They happily agreed and were actually counting down the days until they had the 3 little ones in their home.

Emmanuel shook his head. “We won’t cancel. I will take care of them while you rest.”

She sighed loudly, her headache getting worse. “You can’t! They’re a handful at this stage. The youngest is still a baby.”

“I can do it! Brigitte, if these were our kids, you’d let me do this on my own. Please, I can handle 3 infants.” Emmanuel confessed. “Have some faith in your husband.”

“Fine! But wake me up if you need anything! I mean it, honey. Don’t try to be Super Daddy.”

After convincing Laurence that he could handle the situation, Emmanuel was left with the children. Thankfully, they seemed tired and subdued, as if they were still half asleep.

“We’re going to be very quiet today because Mamie is sleeping.” Emmanuel removed a fairytale book from the bookshelf and sat the two older kids down on the carpet while the baby rested against his chest.

Halfway through the story, he smelled something foul. He wasn’t new to that overwhelming odour, instantly knowing what had happened.

“I need to change the little one. Can you sit quietly for a few minutes?” After receiving a nod from each child, Emmanuel grabbed the diaper bag that Laurence had left and headed to the bathroom.

By the time he returned, the children were missing.

“Kids!!!! Where are you? Don’t hide from daddy! Please! Come out!”

Emmanuel’s heart began to race. With the baby securely in his arms, he ran to the front door to make sure they hadn’t escaped onto the street. Thankfully the lock was still in place and neither child was tall enough to reach it.

“Chérie!” He heard Brigitte yell from their bed.

“Come on little one! We are needed!” Emmanuel rushed to the bedroom, kicking the door open with his foot. It was there that he saw the children cuddling with Brigitte, each child’s head resting on her upper body.

Looking up at her husband's worried expression, she laughed, “It’s okay, they’re fine. They told me they got bored of your stories.”

He chose to ignore the comment. “Are you feeling better?” Emmanuel whispered, not wanting her headache to return.

“Yes, but you look exhausted,” she stated, looking at her husband’s messy hair and the bags under his eyes.

“I don’t know how you did it, Brigitte.” He confessed, realizing once again how hard it was to be a parent to young children. “But I’m not surprised, I always knew I married SuperWoman.”

Hellooo Winter! ❤️

Oh the fluffiness! I love fluffiness! Especially fluffiness with the grandkids!

Of course Manu thought he could entertained the kids just by reading them a book hahaha

But adorable that he still wanted to try to take care of the 3 kids alone to let Brigitte rest hahaha

Thank you so much, Winter! ❤️❤️❤️

#fanfic #winter

6 notes · View notes

ere-the-sun-rises · 3 months ago

Text

I've got a story about this exact situation.

| | |

I had to read "The Stone Angel" by Margaret Laurence in Grade 12 English. It's hard to describe - a kind of day-in-the-life-of/character study/old-woman-tells-you-her-life-story kind of book. It's not about anything, necessarily - just a run through of one woman's version of the human experience. She tells her story as it happened, occasionally interjecting regrets or observations from her vantage point in the future. An interesting narrative design, and a compelling one.

I hated every fucking moment of reading that book. I bitched and moaned and resented it for taking up my life.

The worst part was, ironically, the protaganist. She was the most bitter, vile, wretched and judgmental shrew I'd ever had the misfortune to read about. I loathed her and being forced to see through her eyes. She would say and think unhinged and cruel things to people who loved her and cared for her. Had she been real before me, I would have slapped her so hard she'd get whiplash. She was repulsive, and even the really shitty things that happened to her - like two abusive husbands who left her broke and shamed - could not summon my pity or empathy. I didn't think she deserved what they put her through, but by god, she certainly didn't deserve to be happy.

And then ... the ending happened.

She skips back and forth between describing her past and narrating her present, where's she's an 80-something living with her second son and his wife. She tells you early on that she's doing this mental exercise because she's been diagnosed with dementia, so she wants to remember everything as it happened.

She decides to wander the neighbourhood and gets lost for three days. She finds and makes friends with a homeless man who lets her share his cardboard and newspaper bedding. They swap some stories about their lives. She thinks about her life on a park bench during the day, sitting in the sun and enjoying the warmth after a cold night. She finally admits she's been ungrateful (and unrepentantly evil) to a lot of people in her life (especially her second son and especially especially his wife). Then, in the middle of a thought, the sentence stops short and the rest of the page is empty. It took me a moment to register what had just happened. I re-read the last few sentences a few times before it clicked.

She died.

An elderly woman, riddled with dementia, lost and unable to find her way home, died out in a public park, alone.

Except I was there.

I'd been there with her the whole time. I left the house with her, followed her through the little city she lived in, listened as she told me her whole life story. I had been with her to her final breath and thought - the only one who was. Someone random. A stranger who, until this very moment, had reviled her and sought only to escape her miserable fucking life - I was who she died with. Not her son who loved her so much or her daughter-in-law who spent years looking after this frigid bitch, not anyone from her past - me. Just ... me.

I was shattered. I sat on my bedroom floor, staring at and rereading her last, unfinished words. I knew she had more to say and only now, once she was gone, did I want to know them. All the resentment drained out of me and I was left by myself for the first time in weeks, hollowed out and sad. Sad for all of it - the misery her husbands put her through, the elitist pride she saddled herself with, the disdain she showed everyone around her, the heartbreak of her son when he inevitably found her body. So much time and energy ... all wasted by her. She couldn't realize much she had until she's elderly and lost, and through a confluence of chance and her own high-handed sins, she dies here. With nothing by ghosts and no one but a distant stranger who never talks back.

I closed that book and stared blankly at the cover art. I just watched that woman die. And this transcript of her thoughts is all that's left of her now - sitting on the floor between my legs and staring silently back at me.

| | |

I only read this book once, and I'm unlikely to ever read it again. I hated her, and I'd probably hate her even more now that I'm an adult with more adult perspectives on the things in her life.

I think everyone should read it.

It's a miserable slog with a repugnant protaganist and it broke my heart so thoroughly that I still remember it a decade later. I've never had a book - before or since - strip me bare with all the things it didn't say. The pathos is extraordinary and devastating. The absence of her words, the unfinished thoughts in her mind ... haunting.

I said that this book isn't about anything, because it isn't. But "The Stone Angel" is something ... her tombstone. It's simultaneously what it is to die and to watch someone die. To feel loss, even for someone you might hate. She's dead, and her death doesn't take her wrongs with her or undo her own suffering - it's just silence. Loss. Maybe even grief.

But that's the point, isn't it? To feel grief, one must have empathy, sympathy; feel affection or pity or both. This book made me feel grief for a fundamentally unpleasant fictional woman simply by letting me experience her life with her.

You'll hate reading this book, and I think you should.

I straight up do not trust you if you did not enjoy a single book you had to read for English class. I know they assigned some real stuffy stinkers and the curriculum varies across districts but not one? Not The Outsiders? Not The Picture of Dorian Gray? Not Fahrenheit 451? Not even Frankenstein? Damn. That’s crazy.

25K notes · View notes

brunchable · 3 years ago

Text

All I Ask - Part 1 || Stephen Strange x Reader

Word count: 2.7K

Warning: References to Multiverse of Madness. Angst.

A/N: This is my first time writing, so please take it easy on me. This imagine has been inspired by All I ask by Adele and Arcade by Duncan Laurence (ft. FLETCHER).

PART II // PART III ***Strictly do not: claim, repost, copy, translate my stories anywhere else***

You blankly stared at your reflection as you wore a pair of diamond earrings, it was the very first gift Stephen has given you. There's a lot of things running in your mind; Stephen's unresolved feelings for Christine being the centre of it. It was her wedding day today and you've been invited considering the fact that you're a close friend at work. You straightened yourself up with a sigh, feeling that your beauty is inadequate compared to Christine.

"You look beautiful." Stephen's silky deep voice whispered against your ear before giving you a tender kiss on your temple. His slender, yet scarred hands rested on the curves of your waist.

Stephen's sudden appearance startled you, the mini heart attack causing you to clutch the centre of your chest, "Damn it, Stephen! Will you stop creeping up on me like that? Dating a wizard should come with a warning."

Stephen gave you an offended look through your reflections, stepping away to sit on the edge of your bed, "Uh No, correction, you're dating sorcerer, wizards wear hats and use wands, lame."

"Mhm, and I guess the warnings for Doctor Strange come after you've been bagged right?" You chuckled, reaching for your sweet perfume that Stephen goes nuts for and sprayed it on your wrist then dabbing it behind your ears.

"Are you seriously comparing me with spell books?" His brows raised, feeling a hint of an edginess in your attitude, which he decides to ignore. He was reading this situation as banter.

You remained quiet, because for you, your question had two meanings; one was about his use of magic and two, you know that he is not over Christine. You didn’t know how you hadn't noticed from the very start when all the signs were clear as day. Stephen still wears that damned busted watch, there is sorrow in his eyes when she becomes the subject of conversation, the way he lights up when he talks to her and the way he looks at her.

You searched for those behaviors whenever you're together and by the time you realized he was never going to look at you the same way, you were already in too deep, you didn't have the guts to say anything because you're scared of losing him. You decided that you will wait for him quietly, but it’s been one year and you're close to snapping. You're a ticking time bomb.

•••

You admired the decorations inside the church while you and Stephen sat waiting for the ceremony to start. Doctor West was chatting with Stephen and you quietly eavesdropped on their conversation. The man seemed consumed by grief as he talked about his brother and cats, asking Stephen if there had been another way, "... and still you didn't get the girl." Doctor West said.

Ouch. Was it really necessary to be so brutal? You thought and grimaced.

Stephen adjusted his tie on Doctor West's comment, you could feel that he was hurt by it even though his face remained expressionless. He wasn't the only one who got emotionally damaged though. You clutched onto your dress looking elsewhere but Stephen.

Music began and all the guests stood up as Christine prepared to walk herself down the aisle. She looked immaculate in her white dress, her eyes focused on her soon-to-be-husband as she graciously made her way to the altar.

You turned your body slightly to look at Stephen behind you and there it was again, that longing look, it was obvious that he had tunnel vision towards the bride since he didn't even notice you looking at him. Why am I not surprised? You caught Doctor West's gaze for a split second with water welling in your eyes, as Stephen was fixated on Christine who was fixated on the groom. You quickly turned and wiped them away before they fell, only then Stephen came to his senses, "(Y/N) are you alright?"

You cleared your throat before talking, afraid that your voice might crack,"Yeah I'm fine, weddings y'know? They're a real tear jerker." You lied and laughed it off. You felt his hand cover your smaller ones, his thumb rubbing the back of your hand as consolation. You sat frozen on your seat for the rest of the ceremony, too afraid to look up at Stephen, too afraid that your cup of emotions might overflow.

"Should anyone present know of any reason that this couple should not be joined in holy matrimony, speak now or forever hold your peace." The Pastor asked the guests. Stephen squeezed your hand, his jaw clenched as if prohibiting himself to speak. This man, he is in love with someone else, if this wasn't enough proof then you don't know what is.

•••

You decided to separate from Stephen for a while during the reception, you were feeling a range of negative emotions that you needed to suppress. You hid it well towards your friends and colleagues, you weren’t so sure if you would be able to hide it from Stephen any longer, that's why you needed to remove yourself from his presence.

Stephen hung out at the bar drinking a martini after another round of failing to find you. Christine cleared her throat as she approached the bar where Stephen stood, "A glass of red please." She smiled at the bartender.

You glanced towards their direction from time to time as you caught up with your colleagues, chugging your cocktail and grabbing another from a server that offered. You watched your lover turn water into wine, a sardonic laugh managed to slip from your lips.

Juliet, your work bestie, followed the direction you were looking at and gave you a look, "I warned you from the start girl."

"I know, I know, I was too blind to see that he probably just kept me around to fill in that black hole, he calls his heart." As much as you hated to say it, you did, you downed another glass and grabbed a glass of champagne this time, "Jeeze, I'm so pathetic, what was I thinking I got something that Christine doesn't?" You laughed at yourself, watching Stephen stopping Christine from walking away.

"Don't say that! You are not pathetic. Stupid and blinded? Yes. All you need to do now is to follow your head this time babe." Juliet rubbed the side of your arm, glancing at the other two.

"I want to know what they're talking about." You darted towards the pair, at the same time you made sure that you weren't spotted. Juliet tried to stop you from causing yourself anymore torment but as much as you hated to admit it, you wanted to feel the pain, just in case if tonight doesn't end well, maybe it would be less painful then.

"Christine— I should’ve, " Stephen took a deep breath, "I wish it would've been different– I never stopped caring about us, but I had to make sacrifices… to protect you, I’m sorry." Stephen lowered his gaze.

Christine shook her head, keeping her eyes on him, "It was never going to work out between us."

Stephen raised his eyes to look at her again, her reply stung a lot, "Why not?"

"Because Stephen… you have to be the one holding the knife, and I've always respected you for it but I couldn’t love you for it."

Stephen pressed his lips together, avoiding eye contact this time, "Truly, I’m just glad that you're happy."

Christine nodded, smiling and getting teary-eyed, "I am, I really, really am."

"Good." Stephen smiled though it was a pain.

"Are you? Are you Happy?"

"I'm happy." He said, uncertainty present in his tone. Then the thought of your relationship with him crossed his mind.

"Good, you deserve it. Take care of (Y/N), she's heaven sent." Christine patted his shoulder before walking away from him. Your eyes shut tight while also walking away after hearing Palmer mention you in a positive light. Every noise around you becomes a blurred sound, while all that's been said keeps replaying in your head, you can hear Stephen's words loud and clear. I wished it would've been different– I never stopped caring about us.

Strange noticed your figure walking towards the elevators in a hurry. After not being able to find you in the time frame of being there, he could feel something was wrong because now you're leaving without a word. He ran after you but he was too slow, your eyes landing on each other as the elevator doors shut. At least he had the decency to run after you.

You saw a glow of golden light reflecting all around the elevator's metal walls, "You're really leaving without me?" Stephen asked after stepping out of the portal. You chuckled quietly, amused at the fact you forgot that he could easily catch up to you.

"I could never get used to this sorcery," A cold laugh followed, "And yes I am– was leaving without you, Stephen." You answered his question, your face turning dead-pan. The storm that was brewing inside you was only getting stronger in his presence. Another portal opened in front of you, the other side appeared to be your living room— where you're likely to spend the night alone eating ice cream while you drown yourself with tears. You passed through without hesitation and he followed.

"How much have you heard–" He broke the awful silence between you, the portal closing behind him at will. So he knows.

"Enough. Enough to wake me up from this dream I've been having." You answered his straightforward question with a straightforward answer. You've beaten around the bush long enough to do it now. You didn’t want to tread carefully anymore, you were ready for what's to come, you've had enough.

"What dream? What are you talking about?" He asked with a slight impatience in his tone. His hands grabbed you by the shoulders and spun you around to face him.

"I've come to a realisation that I am never going to be good enough for you Stephen. All of this– this– this is one sided, and I was stupid and naive to gaslight myself to believe that one day you will look at me like how you look at Christine." You looked anywhere but his blue eyes, afraid that you would melt and give in your false bravery right now.

"I can't believe this— you're jealous of Christine? Where did we just come from? Her wedding! I can’t have her!" His voice slowly got louder. This time you found the courage to look at him in the eyes, your gaze burning into his soul as you pushed him away from you.

"I am not jealous of Christine, I am everything but jealous. I know you cannot have her and I know she definitely doesn't love you romantically anymore, so why would I be jealous?" You increased your tone as well. Stephen cocked his head back, surprised to get shouted at by you for the first time, "And since you don't have a clue of what I really am feeling– then I will gladly tell you."

"Oh please, enlighten me." Stephen replied through his gritted teeth. His gaze was unwavering.

"I feel unappreciated, unloved, unnoticed–" You began but instantly got cut off by the man.

"So you’re acting like this because of my lack of attention towards you?" He rolled his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose, "That's real mature (Y/N)–"

"Oh for fuck's sake Stephen!" You threw your hands in the air, irritated at the fact that he had the nerve to get narcissistic with you, your patience was hanging by a thread, "You just asked me how much I had heard! You wished it would've been different right? If you had the chance for a different outcome, you would choose–" Her. Your throat burned and had to stop yourself from talking before your voice cracked, you bit the inside of your cheek and swallowed the lump you felt inside your throat.

You continued, "I know you're still holding onto her Stephen, I have for awhile– It’s so fucking obvious."

"If I am then why am I with you?" He asked with his low baritone voice that gave shivers down your spine, he was getting angry and you could tell he didn't want to have this conversation.

"You should ask yourself that– because I. don't. know. Maybe you're lonely, maybe you need someone to make you feel something to mask the fact that you can't get over Christine."

Stephen scoffed, "And you need to understand, that I was gone for FIVE YEARS and when I came back the love of my life was engaged and now married to someone else!" He finally snapped, his angry eyes telling you that his brain is in a different mode, he was incapable of seeing your side of the story at this point.

You flinched at his passion, "I understand how you feel—"

"Oh please, how would you understand exactly how I feel?"

"For the past year Stephen I have watched you love someone else from afar. I've spent my time trying to please you even though it is not enough to make you genuinely happy– I have been very understanding that you prefer wearing that watch or eating dinner at her favourite places over mine, I do the things that remind you of her with you— all because I had hoped that maybe someday you would come to realise the weight of my feelings for you.

And I really thought I could do it forever, because I love you— little did I know that I was self-sabotaging myself in the process. I’ve gained nothing and it’s all at my expense, I have spent all the love I’ve saved and you received all that love and I got nothing in return, what the heck am I supposed to do with that?” You poured your heart out, shouting the words when necessary. You felt free after letting it go, you weren’t able to fight back your tears this time, they burned your cheeks as they dripped down your face. They came as a full acceptance of your emotional pain.

Stephen stayed silent, his eyes flickering as he took the time to let all your pent up feelings sink in. He’s never seen you cry hysterically like that and knowing that he was the cause of it dealt him great heartache and his expression softened. Stephen took a step towards you, his hand reaching for your wrist to pull you into a hug but you pulled away, “(Y/N), I’m sorry. I—”

“Don’t touch me! I don’t want to hear it, I don’t want to hear your pity when I already feel pathetic.” You took a deep breath before drowning in yourself. You wanted him to say that you’re wrong, that you’re overthinking it; you wanted him to pull you in and kiss you like it’s your last day on earth, but you didn’t need honesty to come out from him in a form of speech, it was already in his eyes that he accepted the fact that he made the mistake, “Do you love me or am I just a rebound?” You broke the deafening silence.

Stephen lifted his blue orbs and locked themselves into yours, approaching you slowly as if he was walking on glass, afraid that you might push him away again, “No of course not (Y/N). I love you.” His scarred hands slightly tremble as they cupped your cheeks, his thumbs wiping away your tears. His eyes flickering between your eyes, allowing himself to get lost in it. Your hands clutching onto his blazer until your knuckles turn white.

“But you’re not in love with me. I have to let you go.” It came out as a whisper, it was probably one of the most difficult things you’ve had to say. Panic took over Stephen after hearing your request, he forced a smile while trying to find the words to say.

“No, don't say that, (Y/N), we can work this out, I can’t lose you too.” He rested his forehead against yours, “Please.” He whispered.

You shook your head, “I’ve got nothing left to offer you Stephen, I had a hunch it would end like this but I still carried on because I was selfish and wanted you for myself, but I can’t— I can’t do this anymore. All I ask of you now is to figure yourself out and find something that truly makes you happy.” You gently pushed him away, “Please leave.” Before I change my mind. You bit your swollen lip and looked down on the floor.

"Is this really what you want?" He asked quietly, like he's also preparing to let go. You nodded bracing yourself as this maybe the last time that you'll be with him, "I'm sorry (Y/N), I truly am." And you felt the warmth of his hands slip away as he disappeared without another word. Once you didn’t feel his presence anymore, your knees gave in and you dropped on the floor, holding your broken heart in your hands.

#stephen strange #benedict cumberbatch imagine #stephen strange x reader #stephen strange x you #marvel x you #benedict cumberbatch x reader #benedict cumberbatch #benedict cumberbatch x you #doctor strange imagine #doctor strange x you #doctor strange #doctor strange x reader #dr strange x reader #dr strange x you

2K notes · View notes

starrayblogs · 3 years ago

Text

here's a continuation of that zane reader insert i made a while back! i'm thinking of making this a full on book book and publish to ao3+wattpad but i still need a title for this story. i've been calling it 'tranquility' in my head but let me know what you think and if you have any titles in mind too! anyways, have a fun read c;

"Thank Irene, I'm finally done..." You breathed out, plopping down on your couch after you had finally unpacked everything from those boxes. "Ew, I'm sweaty."

You wiped the sweat off your forehead with the back of your hand. Then, you heard knocking on your door. "Oh, come on. I just sat down." You groaned, closing your eyes tight before pushing yourself off the couch.

When you opened the door, you were greeted by a smiling Aphmau. "Hi, Y/N! Would you like eat lunch with us?" She asked, cheerfully. "Oh, today?" You asked, leaning out your door frame. "Yeah, around 12. Since we just moved in, we don't really have a lot right now so we're going to buy necessities for our houses."

"Huh. Well, I'm pretty much done with my house-"

"What!? Didn't you just move in yesterday? Plus, this road was pretty reserved until yesterday because we... had some connections." Aphmau placed a hand on her hip and tilted her head to the side. You chuckled.

"I have connections too. Anyway, I'm not opposed to going out and eating with some friends! Who's coming?" You smiled gently. "Just the people you met yesterday plus some other friends." She replied, rocking herself with her heel and toe. "I'm sure you're going to love them." She looked excited to introduce you.

"I see..." You bit the inside of your lip, despite smiling at the girl. You were excited but you were also kind of nervous since, as Aphmau told you, they've been long time friends and you just arrived a day ago. "Well, I'll be there! Where's our meeting point?"

"We'll be eating at Ikea first before going to the mall right next to it. You'll find us waiting outside Ikea!" Aphmau said. "See you there, Y/N!" You waved her goodbye as she jogged off your porch before closing your door and glancing at your clock. It was almost quarter to 12. You wince.

"Sorry, Aph... Might be late." You whispered to yourself while you made your to your bathroom.

You parked your car at one of the slots right next to Ikea. You looked out your window to see if Aphmau was there before you stepped out and there she was accompanied with Aaron, Garroth, Zane, Laurence, and four other people you didn't recognize. Taking a deep breath, you lightly squeezed the steering wheel before letting go. 12:15, you made an audible 'yeesh'.

You pulled down the sun visor and looked at your reflection, checking to make sure you look okay. You had worn a white shirt underneath your favorite wool vest, black dress pants, some white sneakers, and a satchel you had.

You shook your hands while letting out a long breathe before turning the key to shut down your car. You stepped out your car and checked yourself on the window one last time before locking the car.

You jogged over to a waving Aphmau and Garroth with a sheepish smile. "Oh my Irene, I am so sorry that I'm late, I just finished unpacking everything when Aphmau dropped by so I had to shower." You apologized while approaching the group.

"Don't worry about it, we're just happy you made it!" Aphmau said, reaching out for a hug to which you happily accepted. "Y/N, let me introduce you. This is Katelyn, Kawaii-chan, Dante, and Travis. There's one more person but she's never up when the sun is." You looked at her confused at the last statement for a second. Then, you looked at the four people you didn't recognize earlier and smiled.

Except Dante didn't pay mind to you and was staring at the distance. "Looks like one of your friends is out of it." You pointed to Dante while chuckling and everyone looked at him, confused. Travis elbowed him.

"Ow! Can't a guy admire a car and acknowledge the fact that one of us can drive?" Dante pointed to your parked car. "Oh my Irene, look at how beautiful it is..." He says softly, as if he was in love with your car.

"Don't think about robbing it, Dante." You joked as you smirked his way which caused his head to turn to you. He met your gaze and looked down, red tinting his cheeks a little in embarassment. "Come on, you guys! Let's eat before we do some shopping." Aphmau cheered, leading us into the food court of Ikea.

Everyone all got in line with you lagging behind everyone else. Well, aside from Zane who has standing behind you as you grabbed your tray. "Hi, Zane." You greeted, giving him a smile before you walked to get yourself a glass. "Hello..." He greeted you back, sounding groggy.

"Did you get dragged along?" You chuckled, picking up a dessert plate for yourself as you received a groan. "Dragged is... No, I was begged to come along by Garroth and Aph." You watched as he glanced longingly at the dessert selection before walking away.

"Hm... Well, at least you get to be with your favorite dentist." You giggled, as you waited for Aphmau to move so you could order your food. "Really? I could've sworn my favorite dentist was from that k-drama last night."

You gasped, placing a hand to your chest in a light shock which made Zane chuckle a little. "How dare you..." You whispered before moving forward and asking for your food of choice.

"Oh, I do dare." Zane replied as you moved forward before getting his order. You rolled your eyes at him with a smile as you got a side dish for yourself. "So, how'd you sleep last night?"

"Like there was a thunderstorm." He replied, irritated. "I told you, Garroth was snoring the night away." He added while rolling his eye, getting himself a side dish as well. "Maybe you're just a light sleeper." You told him, getting in line for the cashier to pay for your food.

"Maybe you should try sleeping when Garroth's in the next room." He gave you a death stare as he got in line with you. You laughed and his face slowly relaxed. "No thanks, it's funnier to hear about it from you."

You told him, setting down the tray on the bar so the cashier can total your order while you fish for your wallet. You paid and got your change so you went through, waiting for Zane to pay for his food since he was the only one left.

"You and Zane seem to get along." Aphmau said, nudging you lightly with her shoulder while you gave her a questionable look. "Is that strange?"

"Well, Zane has a hard time getting along with most of us and he's known us for years! But he just met you and he seems to be doing alright." She told you with a smile as she looked at Zane, as if proud of him. "Huh... That's nice?" You replied, turning away from Aphmau to look at the approaching Zane.

"Come on, I found a table for all of us!" Garroth exclaimed, pointing to a table that could fit the whole group. Well, they were two seperate tables but if you conjoined them then everyone would fit. Which is exactly what Garroth and Aaron were doing.

You watched as everyone else settled naturally, sitting next to they're roommate while you awkwardly waited for the last seat by being the only one left standing.

"Y/N, come sit next to me!" Garroth pointed the empty seat next to him which was situated between him and Zane. You smiled and made your way over, pulling your chair out and taking a seat.

"Zane didn't let you sit next to him?" You chuckled while Garroth sighed in defeat, in a wordless 'yes'. You turned to smile at Zane again but he stared at you for a bit before going to take his food out the tray for him to eat.

"I'm guessing my brother apologized to you yesterday?" Garroth whispered, closely, which caught you off guard. "Uh, yeah! He helped me unpack more too and I bought us some dinner."

"So that's why he told me he was busy. He was busy making a frieeeennndddd." He leaned forward and looked at Zane with a smirk. You chuckled and turn to Zane, who was glaring daggers at his brother. "Shut. Up." He threatened and Garroth just giggled before leaning back into his seat.

You sent a sympathetic smile to Zane while chuckling before preparing to eat your food aswell.

It was a nice lunch. Everyone at the table was nice and welcoming to you, asking general questions about yourself and your life. It was such a nice turn of events since you thought you were just going to awkwardly pick on your food.

Now, here you were entering the mall that was connected to Ikea. You realized how they were planning to travel as one whole group and how that was probably going to probably be a bad idea. "Um, excuse me? Can I offer something?" You asked, raising your hand.

"Yes?" Aphmau stopped in her tracks to turn to you, along with the rest of the group. "Uh, well... If we all went together in a store, we could block other people's way if we're all at one isle since we're such a big group."

"So, what do you suggest?" Laurence asked and you cleared your throat before you answered. "I suggest we travel with the people we live with since it'll be easier. Plus, I think all of us would want different things at different times." You smiled, adjusting your satchel.

"Well, wouldn't that mean Y/N-senpai would be alone?" KC asked, her tail wagging slowly as her brows furrowed slightly. "She can come with us!" Garroth piped in, grabbing you by the shoulder and pulling you with him, Laurence, and Zane.

"Well, I guess that's settled! Let's all meet up at Starbucks at 3." Katelyn said as KC intertwined her arm with the blue haired girl. You smiled as you watched everyone drift with their roommate while the four of you stayed back. You glanced at your phone and it read 13:17.

"You can let go of her now, Garroth." Zane said with crossed arms and a grumpy look on his face. "Aw, is somebody jealous that I'm hogging their new friend?" Garroth teased as he pulled you in closer, while you just giggled. "No, I just feel bad she has to be so close to you." Zane replied, rolling his eye at his brother.

"Oooh, burn." Laurence jumped in, chuckling. Garroth did a dramatic gasp, letting go of you in the process. "Let's just go already." Zane said, uncrossing his arms. "Where do we go first?" You asked, looking at the several stores around you.

"Toiletries. I can't stand another day using some hotel shampoo Garroth stole a while back." Zane grumbled the last part with a scowl. "What?" You asked, laughing halfway.

"That shampoo makes me smell nice, okay!?" Garroth defended himself while you and Laurence laughed at him. "We should check if they have a body shop here but if you want to get cheap stuff, we should just hit the supermarket here." You smiled.

"Will you recommend us the best toothpaste too?" Garroth asked and you rolled your eyes. "Sure, Garroth." You gently patted the tall blond's back. "So? Where to?"

"Let's just hit the supermarket so our wallets don't cry. That way we can also buy groceries." Laurence said, looking down on his phone. "It should be the next floor down." He said, leading the group.

"Me and Laurence will go get food first, you two do your thing." Garroth said, smiling and entering the market with the brunette.

So, you and Zane were left outside. "Do you want to look for toiletries together?" You asked, glancing up at him. "Sure... Recommend something good, doctor." He chuckled, walking in to get two shopping baskets.

"Doctor just in teeth, Zane." You replied, laughing as you entered the place and grabbing the other basket from Zane. You two started to look for the personal care isle.

"Surely you learned about other stuff." Zane said as you arrived at the isle shortly. "Well, you're right but at this point I've forgotten most of what wasn't included in my field." You chuckled, smelling a shampoo bottle before handing it to Zane. He reluctantly smelled it through his mask.

"Smells too flowery." He commented and you nodded your head while he returned the bottle to the shelf. "How about this?" You gave him a shampoo and he opened up the cap to have a sniff. "This is... Actually, not bad?"

"What's it smell like?" You grabbed the same bottle you gave him, ready to open it up yourself. "Smells like peppermint and some kind of flower?" He said and you decided to open the shampoo yourself. You inhale its scent and hum with a smile.

"You're right, this is pretty good! And I think you're smelling lavender." You said, setting the bottle back to its original place. "So, are you gonna buy it?" Zane asked, holding the shampoo in his hand.

"Huh? Oh, I thought we could go shopping for your shampoo first." You chuckled, slightly walking away to find a shampoo for yourself.

"And the first choice was something only bees would enjoy?" He sounded slightly offended but when you looked back, the bottom of his eye slightly curved up.

He was being sarcastic. "Maybe you'd like it." You replied, shrugging your shoulders while laughing.

"Ha. Ha. That's very. Flattering." He moved his head side to side for every punctuation. "What about you?" He asked afterwards and you grabbed a shampoo bottle from the bottom. Popping the cap open, you take a whiff and fell in love with the scent. If you wanted to smell like anything, it would be this.

"Here, smell this one." Zane rolled his eye and grabbed the bottle from you to smell the product. "Hm... This is good. It suits you. I... I mean." He facepalmed himself before murmuring something.

You laughed lightly, grabbing the same bottle from the shelf before standing up. "It's okay, Zane. Your shampoo suits you too." You sent a soft smile his way and lent your arm out for the shampoo bottle in his hand.

He places the bottle in your basket instead without making eye contact with you. "Sorry. If that was weird to say..." He told you while you placed the one you were holding in the basket too.

"Hm? It wasn't weird at all. Why would telling me that I smell good be weird?" He looked at you in disbelief and you caught on to what he was staring so long for. "Oh, well! We're friends so it's compliment for me." You smiled, walking away to look for soap bars.

Friends? You two were friends? Zane watched as you looked for soap bars while he stood motionless and speechless. You were friends? These moments where it's just the two of you wasn't just coincidences the world that was funny? Friends?

You noticed how Zane was just standing there, holding his basket. "Zane.." You called out, concerned. He seemed to snap out of his state of shock? Was he in shock?

He slowly made his way over to you, looking through soap bars too. "Did I say something wrong?" You asked, grabbing a soap bar to smell. "...No."

"What happened there?" You hummed as you acknowledged it smelled like peppermint through its container before handing it to Zane. "I... I'd rather not say." He said, hoping you wouldn't push it.

Learning from the first time you pushed him for an answer, you just nodded your head. "That's alright but if you want, you can tell me." You smiled.

Zane stared at you for a bit with slightly opened eyes before breaking eye contact to smell the soap.

You watched as he did a satisfactory nod and placed the soap brand in his basket before reaching a soap bar he saw at the top of the shelf. He sniffs it and hands it to you. "It... Matches your shampoo." You take a smell for yourself and smile, agreeing with him.

"You're right. Could you get one more, please?" You asked, placing the soap in your basket. Zane perfectly tosses the same bar in your basket and you thank him. "Actually, I need some conditioner so let's go back closer to the shampoo." You said, walking past him to grab a conditioner.

"Do you use conditioner?" You ask him, bending down to check the several brands. "Hm, sometimes..?" He replied, looking for brands above you. "My hair's already pretty good without it." You loudly huff which earned a snicker from the man.

"Here, this is yours." "Here, this suits you."

You two stare at each other with surprised looks. You would've noticed how the small exposed skin under his eye turned red if you didn't laugh at how you two talked at the same time. Zane was flustered, to say the least. Your laugh was nice, he thought.

He shook his head at the thought, shocked he would think that.

You finally calmed down from your joyride as you exhaled a long breath of air with your hand on your chest. You stood up from your crouching position and dropped the conditioner in Zane's basket while he dropped the product in yours.

You trusted Zane enough so you didn't bother smelling it and Zane seemed to do the same. "Alright, now it's time to recommend you some toothpaste."

You turned around for the other toiletries and made your way to the toothpaste shelf, with Zane trailing behind you.

"What about this?" Zane said, picking out a random toothpaste. You hummed, gently taking it from his hands and looking at the ingredients before placing it back. "Sodium fluoride is good, but it's better if we look for stannous fluoride as one of the ingridients. Do you have sensitive teeth?" You said, browsing the options.

"What's that?"

"Does your teeth hurt whenever you eat anything sweet, cold, hot, or highly acidic?"

"Am I paying for this check-up?" You smirked while rolling your eyes. "Hm, no. Not that I've observed." He replied seriously this time.

"Hm, I think this will do." You grabbed the toothpaste you use and usually recommend. You grabbed another box for yourself and handed one to Zane. "Do you think either Laurence or Garroth has sensitive teeth?"

"Those two? They eat anything and everything with no complaints at all." He said, placing the toothpaste in his basket. "Well, it's best for you to get an extra one since you guys are roommates." You said, handing him an extra box.

"Do you need toothbrush too?" You move over and Zane followed behind you. "Actually, yeah. It's been almost three months."

"Wow, gold star for that." You giggled, handing him a pack of toothbrushes while you got yourself a solo toothbrush. "Do I get candy?" He asked, chuckling. You chuckle with him while shaking your head. "No, sir. No, you don't."

You make your way to the mouthwash section. You pick out the brand you regularly use before turning to Zane. "Do any of you have-"

"Y/N! There you two are!" Garroth's strong bass voice interrupts you. You turn your head to see him and Laurence approaching with a cart full of, mainly, food and some other necessities they needed at home.

"Are you two just throwing stuff in the cart without checking the prices?" Zane asks, approaching them and pointing to the groceries. "Uh, you're in on this portion too, Zane." Laurence raised a finger, gesturing to him then the cart.

"That's... A lot of food." You commented, turning to the three men in the isle. "I should've gotten a cart too..." You murmured before turning back to the mouthwash, putting the mouthwash you've been holding in your basket.

You reached out for two of a brand that you normally recommend to patients. "Zane, take these. Use them after you brush your teeth but don't rinse it out with water."

You informed him, placing the products in his basket. "Were you out here getting a free check-up without me and Garroth?" Laurence asked, leaning on the cart. You laughed softly. "This is favoritism!" Garroth whined, crossing his arms and glancing at his brother.

"Oh, well. Seems like you two have to pay for her services now." Zane was smirking underneath his mask as he chuckled darkly. You chuckled with him, peering over the cart. "Anyway, I should probably buy groceries too. I got too occupied shopping for toiletries that I just got a basket."

"I'll come with." Zane said, dropping his basket on top of the cart. "You two pick out your own shampoo, I'm not the brightest on sharing..." He grumbled, sending the two of them a glare.

"Thanks, Zane." You smiled his way, not catching the looks of disbelief across the blond and brunette. Those looks were wiped away immediately when you turned to Garroth and Laurence.

"Since you've already bought groceries for your house, I'll just buy mine. Let's exchange my numbers so I can give you a call when I'm done." You said, bringing out your phone and handing it to Laurence first, who brought out his phone and then it became a triangle of exchanging phones.

"Great! I won't be too long." You smiled at them when you got your phone back. You waved goodbye to get a cart with Zane following behind you.

"Did Zane just..."

"Yeah..."

"Do you think we're..?"

"Hallucinating? No, I don't think so..." Laurence breathed out, watching you two disappear from the personal care isle.

"Zane..." You called out.

"Zane, come on..." You called out again to the shaking man who was slouching over himself.

"Zane, please..." You were straining your body at this point and then an outburst of laughter brought you back on the ground.

"Zane, this isn't funny!" You furrowed your brows at him. "Please just help me get the cereal..." You begged him, sagging your shoulders with a sigh of defeat. You could reach the top shelf but the cereal brand's box is pretty tall.

Zane's laughter went down several volumes and there he was, slouching over your cart and shaking slightly. "Zaaaane..." You whined out his name, throwing your head back in defeat.

"Okay, I've got it." Zane said, in between laughs before approaching you to get the box. You knew he was obviously taller but this is just unfair. "Zane, how tall are you?" You asked, watching him place the cereal box in your cart. He paused to think.

"5'10''? It's been a while since I checked so perhaps I've grown an inch. How about you?" You huff. "You don't get to ask that." You replied, moving the cart to get the last of your groceries. He chuckled in response. "Afraid to admit you're short?"

You weren't short. You were definitely taller than Aphmau and KC but you weren't as tall as Katelyn. You were at least above Zane's shoulders. You just looked smaller because you had to glance up a little to talk to the guy.

"Excuse you, I am tall." You sent a glare his way and he just chuckled again. "Whatever makes you sleep at night, Y/N." He told you as you arrived at the milk section for your cereal.

Honestly, why didn't you go get your cereal first before you got your other necessities? Well, you were almost done anyway.

You let out a shaky breath as you enter the cold isle for the milk. "Oh? Is the weather cold down there?" Zane commented, unprovoked. You gasp and look at Zane in disbelief.

"I am this close to leaving you in this isle, Zane." You told him, showing your point finger nearly touch your thumb. You two stare at each other for a bit before you laughed and Zane chuckled. "Can you grab me a gallon? I'll call the other two so we can meet up at one of the cashiers."

Zane nodded, walking to get what you asked while you pulled out your phone to call Garroth. After a few rings, he picked up when Zane arrived with your request. "Hi, Garroth! We're almost done here, how about you?"

"We're done too, we just finished a few minutes ago." He told you.

"Great, let's go meet up at a cashier but don't get in line yet." You turned the cart to head for the cashiers.

"No problem! We'll be at the cashier at the far right." You heard him calling for Laurence after that.

"See you, Y/N!" He said. "See youuu." You smiled, hanging up the call and motioned Zane to walk next to you. "They said they'll be waiting at the right cashier."

"We're not that far." Zane commented, stuffing his hands in his pockets.

When you two arrived at the middle of the cashiers, Zane motioned to your right and your head turns to see Laurence waving with his cart. You and Zane approach.

"Alright, we totaled everything and it's divisible by the three of us." Laurence explained to Zane how much was his share. Your cart wasn't as full compared to the boys but you lived alone, so it made sense.

"Y/N, would you like to go first?" Garroth asked, motioning your cart then to the cashier in front of your group. "Sure, I'll wait for you guys outside." You smiled, pushing the cart to get in line and place your groceries on the conveyer belt.

The boys got in line behind you and waited for you to finish paying for your stuff. You smiled at the employee and walked away, carrying your groceries.

"So, Zane." Garroth started out to his brother, who was placing their groceries on the conveyer belt. "What?"

"How was shopping with Y/N?" He teased, prolonging the last syllable of your name. "Yeah, after you surprisingly went with her on your own will." Laurence murmured loud enough for Garroth to nudge his elbow.

"Is it that surprising?"

"Yeah." "Yes."

Zane gave them a stare before rolling his eye. "Y/N just happens to be less annoying than you two and..."

"And..?" Garroth anticipated.

"The rest is none of your business. Now, get over here and pay your share." Zane replied, giving him a glare before pulling out his wallet. Garroth was surprised.

Not at Zane's attitude, no he was used to that. He was surprised how Zane was getting along with someone he just met. Granted, he had trouble getting along with everyone right now but that was because the things he did in the past made him reluctant to open up to people. Yet he was casually laughing and making sarcastic comments with you, someone who didn't know about what he's done before and is just getting to know him. He was happy for Zane though. He knew Zane could always up to Aphmau but having more than one person to listen was always good. That person was you. Yes, he was happy for Zane.

Once the three boys were done paying for their groceries, they went out and found you standing up with your groceries on the ground next to you. It was quarter to 3.

"Should we head to Starbucks now?" You asked, getting up from your seat while grabbing your grocery bags. "Here." Zane stepped forward, grabbing the ones on your left arm and placing them in the cart.

"Why didn't you get a cart?" Laurence asked, watching as Zane took the last groceries from your right to mix with theirs. Two for the left, two for the right.

"I thought I didn't need one." You squinted your eyes at Zane with a smile, who just looked at you confused. "Anyways, should we?" You asked again.

"Sure, we'll have to go up two floors though." Laurence said, looking on the floor map on his phone. "No problem." You replied, moving next to Laurence.

"You guys want drinks when we get there?" You asked as the four of you began walking. "Are you treating us?" Garroth asked, batting his eyes at you. You laughed and nodded your head. "Sure, think of it as my gift for being such nice neighbors."

"Woah, I was kidding. You're actually going to buy us drinks?" Garroth asked, surprised. You pouted your lip and shrugged your shoulders as you approached an elevator. "Yeah, why not? Get whatever you want." You smiled at him as you entered the elevator.

"You probably shouldn't say that." Zane jumped in, standing across the three of you in the rising elevator. "Now they're going to buy the whole coffee shop." He added.

You raised a brow and looked at the two boys next to you. "He's exaggerating." Laurence said while laughing as he left the elevator first. "I'm not." Zane whispered in your ear, craning his neck down slightly.

You huffed lightly while rolling your eyes as the four of you approached Starbucks. "We're the first ones here." You pointed out, watching as the guys settled down at a round table outside with 4 seats. Laurence set the cart next to him.

"So, what are your orders?" You asked, bringing out your phone and wallet. "Wow, you really are buying us drinks..." Laurence commented before telling you his order, then Garroth, and lastly Zane.

You smiled as you finished typing in everyone's order on your phone. "Okay, I'll be right back." You told them, turning around to head inside.

"I'll come with." Zane said, getting out of his seat to follow you. You waited and smiled at him once he stood next to you before entering the cafe.

You missed to hear Garroth's comment on you two since you were already about to enter.

"They look so hilarious together. Zane's like this scary labrador while Y/N's a cute poodle." Laurence hysterically laughed at this, covering his face.

When the two of you had returned, Aphmau and Aaron were seated at the table beside yours. You waved at the both of them while you set down the coffee tray.

"Hi, Aphmau!" You greeted her and she waved. You glanced at their cart full of house decor and a few groceries. "Hi, Y/N! How was your shopping?"

"It was great." You smiled, letting Zane take the inside seat while you sat on the outer end. "Just bought groceries for myself since I've kind of decorated my house already." You chuckled.

"Here are your drinks, boys." You got the drinks out of the tray and gave them to the boys, remembering who ordered what. "Aw, did Y/N buy you free drinks?" Aphmau pouted, looking at your table with envy.

"Whaaaattt..." A whiney voicd appeared from behind you and when you turned around, you met Travis and Dante carrying a few bags. "That's not fair, we're on the same street! Y/N, come on!" Travis whined while you just laughed. They took a seat at the table behind Aphmau.

"Are we late?" Katelyn appeared behind Travis' table and took the table behind yours. Now, your friend group all sat together in a square-like format. "Nope, we all just arrived. Y/N got the guys free drinks though." Aphmau replied, pointing to your table which had a smug Garroth and Laurence.

"Shocking how those two didn't get more than one drink." Katelyn replied, laughing at her own comment with the rest of the group joining in. "Did everyone get what they need?" You asked, turning to look at what everyone's brought with them. Only you and Aphmau had a cart.

Everyone talked over each other in agreement. "Can we rest first? I think I might collapse if I carry any more of Travis' garbage." Dante sighed, throwing his head back and leaning into his chair. "This isn't garbage, this is very much needed for us!" The target defended.

"I'm fine with resting for a bit." You agreed with Dante, leaning into your chair a little bit more while taking a sip of your drink.

"Alright, I'll get ready to book us a taxi." Aaron said, pulling out his phone and resting his arms on the table.

"Oh, you guys should just ride with me then." Your attention perked at the topic of how to get home while your eyes looked at the boys you've been with for the past hour.

"Hell yeah!" Laurence and Garroth high-fived each other, immediately accepting the offer. "I call shotgun!" Garroth immediately exclaimed afterwards much to Laurence's hopes to get front seat.

"This isn't even fair..." Dante faked a cry, sinking into his seat more and you sent a smile his way. "Don't worry, I'm sure you'll all get to ride my car at some point."

Katelyn made a fist to the air and KC's tail waved excitingly. "No one's ever driving it though." You added and you heard a quiet curse from Dante. You chuckled before continuing your drink.

You waved goodbye to the other people as you, Garroth, Zane, and Laurence walked to your car. "Here, Laurence. I'll help you place the groceries at the back." You jogged to your car and unlocked it before opening the trunk.

"You don't have to." Laurence smiled, parking the cart next to your trunk. "I don't mind." You said, reaching out for some groceries and arranging them at the back.

"How is this car so clean!?" Garroth praised as he looked around from the passenger seat while Zane was behind the driver's seat, leaning back with crossed arms.

You and Laurence shared a chuckle before finishing up at the back. You got into the driver's seat and inserted your key, then turning it to start the engine. "Sweet." Laurence praised. "This is a pretty good car, how much did you get it for?"

You chuckled. "It was a graduation gift." Your brother gave you a medium-sized car and kept the price hidden from you when he surprised you with it. You searched up the model though and you were left speechless when you saw the price. Your car was mainly white but it had black accents on the outside, along with the inside. "For... This model?" Garroth made an audible gulp.

"I know, my brother's insane." You chuckled. "Your brother's older than you, right?" Garroth asked and Laurence leaned in curiously as well. "Mhm." You replied, turning on the AC. "By how many years?" Laurence added.

"Hm... 11, I think?" You tried doing the math in your head. "No, he's 12 years older." You turned to look at Garroth and Laurence, who had their brows raised and mouth wide open. "What?" You asked.

"That's such a big age difference." Laurence commented and you just shrugged your shoulders. "That's what everyone says but I couldn't ask for a better brother to grow up with..."

"Actually, I could've asked for that one brother in that sci-fi movie with the marshmallow robot." You jokingly changed your mind and Laurence went back to his seat, laughing. "Didn't he die?" Zane joined in.

"Sadly." You sighed, reaching down to the pocket to your side and grabbing your breath mints. "Mint?" You popped yourself the treat before handing it to Laurence. He handed it to the back after giving himself one and Garroth took two.

Zane got one and tapped your shoulder with the container. "Thanks, Zane." You grabbed the bottle from him before checking your back to see if there were any cars passing.

"Sit back and relax, guys." You replied, throwing your shoulder over your seat while one hand stayed on the steering wheel. You carefully reversed and left the parking lot, not before slowly stopping in front of your other friends still waiting on their taxi.

You pressed the button to slide down Garroth's window and leaned to the right. "We're gonna get going now! Get home safe, everybody." You grinned at them and they gave you their goodbyes. Some of them calling out the smug look on Garroth's face.

You waved at them one last time before telling Garroth to put up the window. You drove away with your music playing on the speakers and talking with the boys. Well, Zane's moments were his short sarcastic comments.

"We're here!" You parked in front of the boys' house and opened the drunk with one of the buttons in front of you. "I'll get the door open." Garroth commented, letting himself out and getting the key from his pocket. You set down your window and rested your arm outside, watching as the blond unlocked the door.

"C'mon, Zane. Let's start with the groceries." Laurence ordered Zane and they both started heading to the back, carefully searching which bags were theirs and which were yours.

Laurence had a few bags in his hands before walking over to the door and plopping the bags on the porch. Zane made his way to your window with groceries in his hand.

"Today wasn't as bad as I thought... Thanks to you." He murmured and you almost didn't catch what he said. You blinked before smiling brightly at him. "Thank you too, Zane. Today was fun."

"Do you... Want help with your groceries?" He offered, readjusting the current bags he was holding. You chuckled and waved a hand. "Don't worry about me. I can handle it. You should help Laurence and Garroth since you guys have a lot to unravel."

You motioned to the bags in his hand before you met his eye again. He looked at you before averting his gaze. "I guess... Bye, Y/N." He said, walking off. He sounded disappointed, you thought while watching him approach the house. "See you, Zane!" You call out cheerfully, hoping to lighten him up.

"Y/N, we've got everything! I'll close the trunk." Laurence called out from the back and you heard the gentle click of the trunk, indicating it was locked. He walked up to your window, holding the last groceries.

"Thanks for the ride back, we really appreciate it." He smiled. "No problem, you guys take care for the night." You said, getting your hand on your stick shift.

"You too." He walked away and you brought your window back up before shifting the stick to drive. You opened up your garage with the remote that was attached to your house-key before parking. You grabbed your groceries and made your way back into your house with a small smile remaining on your lips.

Today was nice, you thought as you locked your door from the inside.

#✩ starraywrites #aphmau mystreet #aphmau zane #mystreet zane #zane ro'meave #zane ro'meave x reader #x reader #aphmau mystreet story #serenity lives next door

164 notes · View notes

udaberriwrites · 2 years ago

Text

Oh, well then, I will gladly ramble!

So, I know you aren't familiar with the Temeraire fandom, and I totally get if fandom-blind reading isn't something you are in the mood for, but these fics should be easy enough to follow and totally up your alley when it comes to themes and dynamics (all of them are Napoleon/Laurence and M or E rated)

... Not to mention, they are really well written!

(Spoilers ahead for up to book 5!! Also, please mind the works' tags!)

The Price of Defeat by aleksrothis - 4.4k

When France win the invasion of Britain, Laurence finds himself Napoleon's prisoner.

An alternate ending to Victory of Eagles

All in Good Time by The Narator - 2.3k

Napoleon receives the visitor he's been longing for.

An Honorable Retirement by VanaTuivana - 3.6k

Napoleon doesn't let Laurence return to England to be executed after he delivers the cure to France; instead, he gives him and Temeraire a new life, and asks only one thing in return.

Parole by PrettyArbritary - 4.6k (This one is rated T)

Laurence woke with a start, and for a long moment did not recognize his surroundings. The cabin was filled with light, but it was not his, and his berth was startlingly unmoving; no hammock at all.

He sat up, and met Napoleon’s eyes. The emperor was sat again at the table, over papers and maps, and some unrepentant air about him declared as well as if he’d said so that he had been watching Laurence as he slept.

“Ah, you are awake.” His eyes again roamed Laurence, up and down, with an appreciation that made Laurence’s cheeks heat. “You look much better.”

If Napoleon had been on the French dragon transport in Crucible of Gold.

Have a nice trip, Birdie!

Currently making my way home via train, about 1 hour now before my next stop over.

Anybody got any fic recs for me in the mean time? You know what I like :)

Tell me on here or in my inbox!

#temeraire #napoleon bonaparte #william laurence #napoleon x laurence #fic recs #book 5 spoilers #victory of eagles

14 notes · View notes

vintage-marina · 3 years ago

Text

Snow storm

Laurie Laurence x f!reader

i've only watched the 2019 version movie of this and i didn't read the book, so i'm sorry for when there are wrong things in here.

summary: Laurie is looking for shelter at your house after he left the March house.

wordcount: 1339

warnings: none i think

fluff

@dreamslittlebitch

Safely in your home you were tucked underneath a knitten blanket with a cup of tea in your hand. The wind wiffeled and the trees were creaking. With the stars dancing in the universe.

Last friday was the day that it was oficially winter or so you had declared after the first snowflake fell on the grass. The child in you was enjoyed and during the day you walked with a friend in the woods.

But now it was cold, very cold, you almost sweared you could feel it in your bones. It would be madness if someone isn't inside their safe warm house. You sipped from your cup and watched the flame in your chimney.

You heard a knock on your window then followed by a knock on your door. Who on earth would knock so late on someone's house, do they want to scare a lady or something? You set your tea down and shrugged of your blanket and walked towards the door.

"Who are y-'' You said in a stern voice when you unlocked the small glasswork.

A sheepish Laurie stood in your line of view and you let out a gasp. Maybe from worry or from relieve, you didn't knew.

"Oh my. Laurie, what-what are you doing here? Come inside!"

Quickly you closed the window and unlocked the door, you took his gloved hand in yours and pulled him inside. A wash of cold air danced into your home and you grimaced.

"Hi,'' he grinned.

''Hi,'' you eyed him from head to toe. His nose and his cheeks were red and in his black hair you saw little snowflakes scattering around, your thumb went to his eyebrow to brush out the snow that fell on his face.

''You must be so cold,'' you said softly to him cupping his cheeks.

''Indeed I am, I must say I am very cold.''

He wasn't.

He was chilly, but wouldn't never admit it to you in fear that he couldn't bask in your attentiveness.

You pulled your hands away and stepped back. ''Make yourself home my boy. I will be setting up some new tea.'' With that you walked towards the kitchen and set up the kettle on the stove.

He touched his cheek and shrugged of his outside gear. He sat on your couch and fideled with the green cushions on it.

You came back with two new cups and you sat next to him. If your parents were home they would have scolded you for sitting so close to a boy who isn't your fiance (sadly). You gave him his cup and you looked at him.

Hair was wet with molten snow and his cheeks were still a bit red. Where were your manners? You didn't even gave him a towel! Instead you were oogling him like a-like a hopeless romantic teenager!

You rose from the couch and raced towards the bathroom to give him a towel. Laurie raised a brow at your sudden activity.

'''What are you doing?'' He called out after you, but he didn't got an answer. Only an out of breath version of you who stood a minute later by his side tossing a towel towards him.

''Thank you.''

Two hours later and your head was on his shoulder, the both of you were reading a poem that you find in the livingroom.

''What in God's name were you doing outside actually?'' You wondered out loud.

''I was by the March's, didn't knew it was going to storm.''

You hummed, satisfied with the answer and went back to reading.

During the evening, Laurie glanced at you multiple times. His eyes soft and full of love, oh how he wished he could be more than friends.

But that just what you were, friends.

Written in the stars, set in stone. It was never meant to be and if he had to be honest with himself he wouldn't dare to disrupt the friendship you two had. But it was fine, better something than nothing.

Then why ached his heart when you laid your head on his shoulder and he couldn't give a peck to your forehead?

It was fine, seriously it was fine.

Of course you noticed the lingering glances that Laurie gave, but you were far to embarassed to make a move (in case he would reject you). He was so pretty and you were- you didn't think you were ugly, but you couldn't possibly imagine that he liked you back.

The evening flew by and you glanced up by the sound of the clock, it was ready midnight! Laurie looked up to and gave a look that said: oops!

Still snowing and the wind howling, it would be unsafe to let Laurie go.

You scraped your throat and looked towards the table, your head still laying on his shoulder.

"I don't think it's safe if you went back to your home, Laurie."

He hummend in agreement, it was indeed better if he stayed here, wait what? What did you just say?

He looked up from his book and glanced at you with widend eyes.

"Are you sure?"

You smiled at him, "of course I'm sure Laurie. I don't want you to die or something!" You swatted his forearm lightly.

He laughed, "I'm flattered."

"Let me just set up your room, I will be right back!"

You went upstairs, picked up a flaming candle from the hallway and opened the door of the guestroom, a cold gust of wind went up in your face and you stepped inside the room. The chilliness of the room got you goosebumps on your arms and you folded them against your chest. You would be a terrible host if you let Laurie sleep in this room.

What if, what if he? No don't think like that, that's scandalous!

A quiet laugh escaped your mouth and you felt heat creeping up your neck. You took a moment to calm your laughter and went downstairs again.

¨Laurie!´´ You stormed of the stairs.

´´Yes?´´

´´Uh, the guest room is ice, ice cold I can't let you sleep in there and my parents will murder me if I let anyone in their room.´´ You didn't look him in the eye. Realisation hits him. ´´So we have to share my room, it's the only option, think of a sleepover.´´ He puts his book away.

You noticed the red on his cheeks.

''Are you sure?''

''Yes.''

''Really, really sure?''

''Yes!''

''Really?''

''Ye-es! Now if you say it one more time, I'm kicking you out!''

That shutted Laurie up, ''I'm going to refresh my room and change into my sleepwear, you can change afterwards.''

Half an hour past by and Laurie had changed in his sleepingwear (it was an old outfit from him self that you simply kept incase of emergencies). He called out your name and you stepped into your bedroom.

He was really pretty.

''You're pretty,'' you noted. His eyes twinkeled more then normal and he had a small smile on his face.

You walked over to your bed, and ducked underneath the covers. Half lidded you looked at him. Quickly he followed too. Laurie was laying on the outerst part of the bed and his body went stiff like a plank. He didn't knew what to do, here he was laying with the prettiest girl in the world. You really were to him the prettiest girl he ever saw.

The two of you stared at eachother, the candlelight on your nightstand was flickering slightly that gave a warm glow to the whole room. It wasn't an uncomfortable silence, it never was with Laurie. Just a silence heavied with unsaid words, unsure what to do.

You saw his eyes fall and relaxing his body. You turned around for a few seconds and blew out the candle. The room dimmed with the warmth and the light from the fireplace in your room. You shut down your eyes and laid in a comfortable position.

It was Laurie who broke the silence, ''you're really pretty too Y/N. Most beautiful girl I've ever seen.''

You were thankful that it was now darker otherwise he might saw how nervous you had become, you mumbeled a quiet thanks.

''Goodnight, Laurie.''

''Goodnight, Y/N.''

You didn't knew what will happen tommorrow, but you hoped something positive (a proposal! No angry parents!).

#little women #little women 2019 #timothee chalamet #laurie laurence x reader #laurie laurence #paul atreides #timothee chalamet imagine #laurie laurence imagine #little women x reader #little women imagine #theodore laurence #dune movie #theodore laurie laurence

905 notes · View notes

fleur2pint · 3 years ago

Text

“How do I love thee?”

pairing: laurie laurence x fem!reader

summary: you and laurie get cuddly while spending the night with him for once

warnings: fluffffffhfoubrfuoberuif

word count: 500+

a/n: this has been sitting in my drafts for 4 months… am i proud of that? no. but did i get it done? yes. i’m sorry this is so short it was just a little thing i thought of months ago. anyways, all the usual stuff (most likely no proofread) yadda yadda yadda. Enjoy!!

You smoothed out the silk against your stomach. Feeling the sleekness of the material and the glide against your fingertips. You grinned as you admired the nightgown on your body, hugging the right places. The garment was gifted to you by your lover, Laurie. You step out of the bedroom, making sure you took the flickering candle with you on the way out.

You walked down the hallway, admiring the grand paintings that James Laurence, Laurie’s grandfather, had purchased while on his lavish trips. Watching them come to life as the light hit them. Your feet easily slid on the hardwood flooring making it hard to be in a rush caused by the fear of slipping. You watch your lover from the wooden arch that divided the hall from the library.

Reading. He was reading as always. You slowly step into the room, looking at the tall shelves filled to the top with books. “Settling in my love?” Laurie says, keeping his eyes on his book. You walk over to the small, velvet, loveseat he was perched on. You sat next to him, hanging over to look at what he was reading. “Just fine you said as you laid out across his lap.

“What is it that you’re reading?” You said looking up at him. “Just some poems for some inspiration.” He whispered looking down at you with a light smile. You readjusted your weight on his legs, wrapping your arms around his waist. He lightly placed one hand on your hip bone, keeping you secure in your spot as he held the book in front of the two of you. “Read some for me,” You giggled, “Please?”

“How do I love thee?”

“Let me count the ways.”

“I love thee to the depth of breadth and height.”

Your ear pressed against Laurie’s stomach. Listening to the sound of his breath in his body. Your eyes are fixed on the light in front of you. A grand fireplace blazing, keeping the two of you warm. You felt your face grow light, feeling it relax completely.

“My soul can reach, when the feeling out of the sight for the ends of being and ideal grace.”

“I love thee to the level of every day’s most quiet need, by the sun and candlelight.”

“I love thee freely, as men strive for right; I love thee purely, as they turn from praise.”

You felt Laurie’s body relaxed with yours. Your head dug into his side, feeling his warmth grow to be your warmth as well. Your eyes fluttered shut. One. You were one. And it was glorious.

“How do I love thee?”

Laurie shut the book softly, looking over to the fire straight after. “Elizabeth Barrett Browning. Was an innovative soul she was.” He said, lacing a hand through your hair. He looked down at you. Looking at your sleeping body like it was a work of art. He laughed to himself as he gently pulled your hair back to look at your face. “Sweet dreams, my dove.”

#laurie laurence #laurie laurence blurb #laurie laurence fluff #laurie laurence x reader #laurie laurence x reader blurb #laurie laurence x reader fluff #timothee chamalet #timothee chalamet blurb #timothee imagine #little women #fanfic

579 notes · View notes

middleearthpixie · 3 years ago

Text

After the Fire ~ Chapter Seven

Title: After the Fire -

Fandom: The Hobbit - Post BOTFA AU Where Everybody Lives

Summary: Following the Battle of the Five Armies, a grievously wounded Thorin is brought back to the kingdom of Erebor, which is still mostly in ruins. Although he’s survived the wounds he received at the end of Azog’s blade, his recovery is far from complete. Grief, regret, anger, all are making his journey that much more difficult and the physical recovery isn’t quite the most difficult challenge he faces.

Jasna Stoneham is no stranger to loss, as she is a survivor of Smaug’s wrath upon Esgaroth. When she is asked to help the dwarves healers of Erebor, her instinct is to say no, but she needs the job, and so agrees to it. However, no one told her that of all the patients, she would be responsible for the king himself, Thorin Oakenshield.

Unfortunately, the road to recovery isn’t necessary a smooth one, but if there’s one thing Thorin will learn, it’s that Jasna is just as stubborn as he is and for every step back he takes, she is there to push him three steps forward. And Jasna will soon find out that there is a gentle, softer side to the dwarf king, one that very few people have ever seen and one he fights to keep hidden from her as well. But like his recovery, that is also easier said than done.

Jasna sits up with the Durin boys and earns Óin’s wrath as a result

Pairing: Thorin Oakenshield x ofc Jasna Stoneham

Characters: Jasna, Thorin, Óin, Narnerra, Fíli, Kíli

Warnings: None

Rating: T

Word Count: 5,188

Tag List: @tschrist1 @i-did-not-mean-to @lathalea @linasofia @fizzyxcustard @legolasbadass @kibleedibleedoo @xxbyimm @arrthurpendragon @exhausted-humxn-being @rachel1959 @laurfilijames @sketch-and-write-lover @sherala007 @enchantzz @knitastically @notlostgnome @myselfandfantasy @medusas-hairband @guardianofrivendell @jotink78 @sorisooyaa @ruthoakenshield

Tag List: @tschrist1 @i-did-not-mean-to @lathalea @bitter-sweet-farmgirl @linasofia @bitter-sweet-farmgirl @fizzyxcustard @legolasbadass @kibleedibleedoo @xxbyimm @arrthurpendragon @exhausted-humxn-being @rachel1959 @laurfilijames @sketch-and-write-lover @sherala007 @enchantzz @knitastically @notlostgnome @myselfandfantasy @ggfamert @medusas-hairband @guardianofrivendell @jotink78 @sorioosyaa @ruthoakenshield @quiall321

If you’d like to be added (or removed) to the tag list, please just let me know!

Previous chapters can be found here.

At night, the infirmary was almost eerie in its quiet. But night after night, as she pored over the books Óin had given her, Jasna was thankful for that quiet. She dipped her pen in the inkwell and jotted down several notes in the leather bound book of blank parchment that Narnerra had dropped off earlier, then turned back to the medical text.

Somewhere in the distance, a clock softly chimed. One in the morning. She had to be up with the sun, but she was still just too wide awake to sleep. The texts were fascinating, far beyond what she’d been exposed to in Esgaroth, under Mr. Laurence’s tutelage. He firmly believed in making his pupils study and study and study before they were allowed near any patients. And while she’d learned more than she’d thought under him, it was nothing compared to being able to put what she’d read to practice, as she did under Óin’s watchful eyes. He was a firm believer in hands-on training and she was thankful for it. She certainly picked things up that much more quickly for it.

She turned a page, rubbed one eye, and shifted in her chair. Her back had begun to ache a bit, a combination of bending over patients all day and her desk for the last few hours. The wick in the lamp on her desk had burned to almost a stump. She’d have to draw more out come the morning.

A low moan reached her ears. She sat back, waiting to see if Óin or Narnerra heard it as well. Several minutes passed and no footfalls followed, so when she heard it again, she got to her feet. Moving to the doorway, she listened closely.

At first, only silence greeted her. Perhaps it was nothing more than her imagination playing with her.

But then she heard it again. A low moan coming from her corner.

She lit the candle in the dish on her desk and then made her way out, checking on the men here and there. By now, ten days after the battle, the number of dwarves in the infirmary had been reduced to about a third of its original number, so it took all of five seconds to discern where the moaning came from.

She hurried over to Fíli, whose fists twisted in his sheet. “Easy,” she whispered, setting the candle on the bedside table, making sure it was out of his reach. “Do you need pain medicine?”

“Please…” he gritted, eyes screwed shut as he continued to twist the sheet, “make it stop…”

“I will. But you have to help me,” she whispered, laying a hand on his forehead. He was cool, thankfully. No fever, just terrible pain.

“Just… take it away…” He grimaced, a tears leaking from the corners of his eyes. “Please…”

“I will.” She straightened up. “I must get Óin first, but then I’ll take it away. I promise.”

He let out a strangle cry, but then nodded. She lifted the candle and practically sprinted from the infirmary.

All of Erebor was quiet so late at night, and she’d learned the lay of the land in regards to finding Óin’s apartments, and this was not the first time she’d shown up at his door in the middle of the night. Still, she wasn’t entirely comfortable even as she rapped a fist against the door.

Óin pulled open the door, peering out through bleary eyes. “Jasna? Who is it?”

“Fíli,” she said. “He is in terrible pain.”

“I’ll be right there. Go and sit with him.”

“Of course.”

She hurried back to the infirmary, where Fíli’s breath came in short, harsh bursts. She dragged over a chair and sank into it, slipping her hand beneath his. “I’m here, Fíli,” she murmured, clasping her other hand atop his. “Squeeze my hand if you need to. Óin will be here in moments.”

“It hurts… under my s-skin… in my-my bones.”

“That’s the healing process at work,” she told him, giving his hand a gentle squeeze between hers. “It s-sounds silly, I-I know, but that’s w-what it is.”

“I wish it to stop.”

“I know. And it will. I promise.”

“Please…” His breath hitched, “make it stop…”

Óin rustled over to them, two small bottles in one hand, a spoon in the other. “Easy, laddie,” he said, his voice low and soothing. “I’ll take it from here, Jasna.”

“No, please,”’ Fíli gritted, “I want her to stay.”

Óin looked from him to her and back, then nodded. “Of course. Jasna, if you would hold his hand.”

“Of course.”

She caught Fíli’s hand again, and reached with her other hand to stroke his soft blond hair while Óin mixed the powder with water in a small goblet. He brought it to Fíli’s lips. “Small sips, laddie. Small sips.”

Fíli drained the glass and sank back with a low moan. “When will my back no longer pain me? My legs? When will it not hurt?” he asked, his voice thin and soft.

“It will be some time,” Óin replied, recapping the bottle of powder that Jasna knew was a blend of valerian root and willow. “Try to sleep now, laddie. You will feel a bit better each day. Miss Stoneham, you should go back to bed now.”

“I will.”

“Fetch me if you need me, lass.” He patted her shoulder, then was gone. Fíli lay at peace now, but he wasn’t asleep. His eyes were still open, glittering in the candlelight as he stared up at the ceiling. She rose, murmuring, “Sleep well, Fi—”

“Would you stay, please?” His hand tightened about hers.

“Are you still in pain? Perhaps I should fetch Óin again?”

“No,” he replied slowly, looking over at her. He wasn’t much older than she was, or so she thought, especially when he managed a somewhat rueful smile. “I’m actually not. But… it is very quiet in here at night. And one’s thoughts can be… less than peaceful…when it’s this quiet.”

“That it is and that they can.” She sank back into her chair. “And of course I will stay. Do you wish t-to talk?”

“You don’t have to.”

She smiled, although he couldn't see it from his vantage point. “You can, if-if y-you wish.”

“Would you think me rude if I don’t?”

“Not at all.”

“I am… sleepy…” His voice thickened as the valerian took hold of him. “Thank you… for-for staying, Miss Stoneham.”

“Please,” she gave his hand a gentle squeeze, “Jasna is fine.”

“Jasna…”

He drifted off to sleep, but she remained there until the clock struck three somewhere within Erebor’s depths. Her eyes stung. Her back ached. And since Fíli appeared to be comfortably resting, she slowly rose from her chair.

“Excuse me?”

The low voice was unfamiliar to her and when she turned, she realized it was the first time she’d heard Kíli speak. He lay there, looking so much younger than his actual years, his dark hair somewhat matted against the linens.

“I was w-w-wondering when I’d hear your voice,” she replied softly, moving to his bedside. His skin was waxen white, while heavy circles darkened beneath his eyes. “Do you need pain medicine?”

He licked his lips slowly. “No, thank you. Tell me, how is Fíli?”

“He is h-h-healing a bit more each d-d-day. Just as you and your uncle are as well.”

“Good. I—I saw him, you know.”

“Saw him?”

His dark eyes slanted in her direction. “When Azog threw him from the tower. I was—was right below. He hit the stone so hard, I’d swear I heard every bone crack.”

“That had to be horrible for you.” She shifted the chair from Fíli’s bedside to his and sat. “He was very lucky, although I d-d-doubt he’d agree w-w-with me at the moment.”

“I thought he was dead,” Kíli’s voice grew softer with each word and when he met her gaze, his eyes shimmered through a veil of tears. “But, he’s not, is he?”

“No. He isn’t.” She pulled her handkerchief from her skirt pocket and dabbed at his cheek as a tear slid down it. “He is asleep, is all.”

“And Thorin?”

“Also sleeping. The three of you w-w-were very l-l-lucky, although I’ll w-w-wager it doesn’t feel that way at the moment.”

A slight smile played at his lips. “I wish I could argue that, but I can’t.” He paused a moment. “What happened to Tauriel?”

“Who?”

“She is a Woodland elf. She was up at Ravenhill. Do you know if she survived?”

“I don’t, no.”

“I’ll wager she didn’t.” He slowly turned his head toward her. “There were so many of orcs and only one of her.”

“I can try to find out. Someone might know.”

“I loved her,” he said softly. “I planned to return to her, once Erebor was ours again. I didn’t… I didn't think…”

His voice cracked, his lips trembled, and he receded into silence. Jasna reached down to smooth her hand over his hair, as she did for Thorin when he had a nightmare or Fíli when his pain threatened to swallow him whole. It calmed Kíli as well, as his eyes closed and he slid off to sleep.

“Thank you.”

Thorin’s whisper might as well have been a shout for how quiet the infirmary was, and she jumped and spun about at the same time. “Are y-y-y-you al-all right?”

“I am fine, thank you.”

She skirted Fíli’s bed to approach Thorin’s. “D-d-do you need s-s-something for pain?”

“No. Thank you. Please,” he gestured to the chair on the far side of his bedside table, “sit a moment?”

She did, her heart beating slightly faster. “Is th-th-there a pr-problem?”

“No, why would you ask that?”

“If y-you need n-n-no pain relief, and y-y-you w-wwish me to sit—”

“I wanted to thank you for sitting with him. You must be tired and yet, here you are.”

For the first time since his arrival, Thorin sounded much like she’d imagine a king to sound. His voice was low and growly, with a quiet authority woven through each word. He still sounded worn out and weary, but not nearly as much as he had those first few days. The apprehension that fluttered in her belly as his request for her to sit now faded. “I will be fine.”

“You are still learning, aren’t you? I saw the light on on your chambers and I assume you were reading?”

“Studying, actually. There is s-still so m-much I have t-t-to learn. Óin has said he won’t t-test me, b-b-b-but he will as-ask me que-que-questions as I w-w-work. Far more fr-fr-fr—scary—if you ask me.”

“I noticed something, when you were trying to keep Fíli calm.” He looked over at her, his eyes glittered like pale gemstones in the candlelight. “You did not stammer nearly as much as you do when you speak with me.”

“Y-y-y-you make me ner-ner-ner—”

“Nervous?” he finished softly.

She nodded. “Y-y-you are a k-k-king.”

“So I’ve been told.” He grimaced as he sat up a little higher, explaining, “It still hurts to move.”

“It w-will for s-s-s-some time still.” She shifted the chair, moving it to face him better. They were the only two souls awake now, and despite her burning eyes, she was in no hurry to go back to her chambers. “Do you n-n-need pa-pain relief?”

“No. It will pass. I find it does faster now.” He went quiet for a moment, just watched her with those pale eyes. And when she finally felt the urge to fidget beneath that stare, he said, “If it helps, think of me as only another dwarf.”

“I c-c-couldn't do that, f-f-f-for you are not.”

“I was. Before all of this happened. And truth be told, I’d rather go back to that.” He averted his gaze then, shifting it somewhere over her left shoulder. “I should like to turn the hands of time back and do things differently. To remain only Thorin Oakenshield. Life was simpler then, if a bit more difficult.”

“Why?”

“Why?” Those eyes met hers once more, his expression grim but not one of pain as far as she could tell. “You are from Esgaroth. You know why.”

“Smaug?” She waited for his nod, and when it came, continued with, “D-d-d-did you in-intend to unleash him upon us?”

“Of course not.”

“Th-then pl-pl-pl—” Her gut kinked as her frustration bubbled up and she spat, “don’t trouble y-y-yourself with it.”

“That is easier said than done, I am afraid,” he replied slowly, shaking his head. “This is all on my shoulders and on my conscience. Fíli. Kíli. Bilbo.”

“Bilbo?” That was a name she’d not heard yet.

He nodded. “A halfling who traveled with us from the Shire. He was to find the Arkenstone for me. He—he betrayed me. And I—”

He went quiet and she waited for him to go on, her fingers twisting in her simple cotton work dress. But when he remained silent, she said, “Your Majesty?”

“I think I should let you get some sleep, Miss Stoneham.”

“Are you all right?”

“I’m fine.” He offered up a slight smile, one that she noticed never reached his eyes. “I would hate to see you get in trouble because I am in a chatty mood.”

“If you wish to talk,” she told him, reaching out to lay her hand on his forearm, “I am a ca-captive audience. Óin will for-forgive me. H-h-he is very patient with m-m-m-me.”

As her fingers came to rest on that thick forearm, a soft jolt shot up her arm, one she’d never felt before, but had her snapping her head up to meet his gaze. His eyes widened ever so slightly, and she wondered if he’d felt it as well.

“I am fine, Miss Stoneham. Go and get some rest.” He eased his arm out from beneath hers and with a slight wince and a hitch of breath, shifted so he lay a bit flatter than he had been.

“Are you certain?”

The clock chimed two and he nodded, closing his eyes. “I am. Good night, Miss Stoneham.”

She stood, and on a whim, leaned over to smooth the sheets. As she did, she realized he bore a large tattoo—one that stretched across his chest, up over his left shoulder, and down over his biceps. She couldn’t make it out, only that it was made up of black lines of varying shapes and thicknesses, and parts of it were almost hidden beneath the dark hair curling away from his skin. The ink reminded her of the designs she’d seen on Dwalin, as well as on both Fíli and his brother, Kíli. The younger Durins weren’t quite as elaborately inked as their uncle, but perhaps that was something that came in time, as they grew older, they added to their skin.

She glanced over at Kíli, who slept across from his brother and uncle. His wound was healing more slowly than Óin was comfortable with, and as a result, he was being kept sedated for now to keep him for comfortable while they waited to see if he’d respond to the new herbs he was being given. They’d wait another day or two, and if he began to show signs of improvement, he planned to bring the youngest Durin out over the coming days, but was equally nervous about doing so.

The infirmary was eerily quiet once more and she returned to her room to resume her studying. By the time the clock chimed three, she was sound asleep, with her head resting on the pages of her notebook.

“Miss Stoneham!”

Jasna bolted upright, a hiss of pain leaking through her teeth as a sharp, stinging pain scorched its way along the side of her neck. She rubbed it, rising from her chair to find an annoyed Óin in her doorway. “D-did I oversleep?”

“Aye, ye most certainly did! I expected ye nearly an hour ago!”

“Oh, I am s-s-s-sorry, Óin. I w-w-w-was up w-w-w—”

He waved her off. “Spare me, lassie. If I tell ye to be on the floor at six, I mean yer to be on the floor at six! What if there was an emergency and ye weren’t here and it caused someone to die? What then?”

He didn't wait for her to reply, but turned and stalked off onto the floor. Burning with embarrassment, she quickly changed into fresh underclothes and dress, splashed some water on her face, ran a comb through her hair—scowling when she hit a serious knot and had to work it out—then hastily scraped it back into its usual knot and hurried out to join Óin and Narnerra.

They were at Kíli’s bedside, where both frowned as they peered down at the wound on Kíli’s chest. Jasna swallowed hard at the sight of it, for she wasn’t quite prepared for it. Whereas Thorin and Fíli’s wounds had been clean, this one was jagged and far uglier, and an angry shade of red, with squiggly red marks tracing outward.

“Morgul, most likely,” Narnerra said, barely glancing up at Jasna as she added, “You are late, Miss Stoneham.”

“I know and I ap-ap-apologize.”

“You apologize. We need to drain this, and you were needed here an hour ago.” Now Narnerra looked up and as soon as she did, Jasna wished she hadn’t, for the dwarrowdam’s blue eyes were bright with fury. “Now, go tend to the others whilst we drain this.”

“M-might I h-h-help?”

“Help? Yes, you might have, had you been on time. But perhaps a day off our service would be best for you. Give you a chance to think about the importance of punctuality.”

Jasna’s cheeks stung with blush as her shame swelled. “B-b-b-but you just said I should t-t-t-tend t-t-t-to the oth-oth-oth-others.”

“I will do it when we are finished,” Narnerra barked.

Óin looked no happier as he added, “If this happens again, we will be discussing whether or not yer suited for this. Now, go.”

“Yes, of-of c-c-course.” Her eyes stinging, her cheeks burning, her entire body feeling as if it was on fire, Jasna turned and tried to ignore the curious stares of the other patients as she made her way back to her chambers and closed the door.

With a low sigh, she tugged back her desk chair and flung herself into it. But try as she might, she couldn't concentrate on the words before her. How could she, when tears of embarrassment blurred them so badly, they were rendered unreadable?

She shoved them off to one side with enough force that the books slid clear off the desk. But Jasna didn't care, nor did she bend to pick them up. Instead, she put her head down and just cried.

Thorin slowly sat up, gritting his teeth as the slightest movement burned a wide swath through his midsection and set a cold sweat prickling across his chest and back. “Óin,” he managed to growl, trying to keep his fool voice from sounding as weak and pathetic as it had been so far.

“Not now, Thorin. Kíli—”

“The blade that felled him,” Thorin went on as if Óin hadn’t said anything, “you believe it to be morgul?”

“I do, aye. Which means we’ve little time to treat him, so please…”

“I wish to speak with you when you finish.”

“About?”

“Miss Stoneham.”

Óin shook his head, his brows low and a frown on his lips. “The infirmary staff is my domain, Thorin. And I will kindly ask you remember you are a patient.”

“She was up late with Fíli. And then with me. Do not punish her for doing what she is supposed to be doing.”

“What she is supposed to be doing.” Óin shook his head once more and glanced over at Narnerra. “Take him into the treatment room. We need to tend to that wound at once.”

Narnerra nodded, then called for two of Dáin’s men to help her move Kíli onto a wheeled bed to be taken out of the main room into one of the rooms at the rear of the infirmary, between Jasna’s chambers and the main infirmary office, where he would be offered a modicum of privacy.

“She was sitting up with me. She was doing her duty and if she overslept as a result—”

“With all due respect, Thorin, I do not tell you how to rule Erebor. Do not tell me how to rule my infirmary.”

“When you finish with Kíli,” Thorin said, the kink in his gut having nothing to do with pain now and everything to do with annoyance, “we will discuss this. I may not be whole as yet, but I am still your king, and you would do well to remember that. Your infirmary is in my kingdom.”

Óin blushed, but that was it as he turned to follow Narnerra out of the main room. With another hiss of pain, Thorin sank back into his pillows and looked toward the room that served as Jasna’s chambers. The urge to rise, to go and knock on her door and offer her a bit of comfort surged through him, but when he tried to swing one leg over the side of his bed, the sharp sting swept through him like wildfire. The cold sweat became a hot one, prickling all over him, and he sank back, breathing hard from the slightest exertion. Ten days and he still wasn't certain he could stand on his own yet, and that was enough to annoy him almost as much as Óin’s words to Jasna annoyed him.

Of course, Óin was well within his rights to be angry. She had overslept and been derelict in her duties. But at the same time, she’d refused to leave his or Fíli’s bedside the previous night, which, to him, offered her a bit of leeway. Besides, she was still only in training and he highly doubted she would have done much where Kíli was concerned. Observe, perhaps, but it wasn't likely she would have done more than that.

“Uncle?”

He turned toward the sound of Fíli’s voice. “Ah, you’re awake.”

“Unfortunately, yes.”

He sounded tired. Worn out. Probably not much worse than how Thorin himself sounded. “How do you feel?”

“I hurt. You?”

“Same.”

Fíli sighed softly. “It is my fault, that Miss Stoneham is in trouble. I asked her to sit with me.”

“I know. I heard.” Thorin stretched an arm toward his nephew, but couldn’t reach him, and so let his hand come to rest on his bed, alongside his hip. “But Kíli also needed her and then I also asked her to sit with me. Between the three of us, we kept her up far too late.”

“I will explain to—”

“I already have,” Thorin broke in gently. “And you need worry only about getting rest. Your mother is on her way, and we both know what will happen when she arrives.”

“Óin will wish he’d become anything other than a healer.”

Despite the growing ache across his belly, Thorin managed a smile. “Most likely.”

“I’m surprised she’s not arrived yet.”

“Word might not have gotten to Ered Luin just yet. She will be here soon enough.”

“She will go mad when she sees me and Kíli.”

Thorin let his eyes close. Yes, his sister would be furious when she saw what happened to her sons. And he knew he was to blame for it. He led them on this quest, led them from Ered Luin to the Shire and from there into seemingly endless peril. Spiders and imprisonment in Mirkwood. A raging inferno in Esgaroth.

The trap at Ravenhill.

His gut twisted once more. Kíli’s wounds. Fíli’s wounds. They were his fault. How was he ever going to look Dís in the eye again? She would be well within her rights to disown him if she wished. And he wouldn’t fault her. In fact, he wouldn’t fault the entire clan if they turned him out, deposed him as king. Since arriving back at Erebor after the battle, he’d had time to think. Plenty of time to think, in fact. And the one thought that ran through his head repeatedly was abdicating his throne and letting Fíli take his place as Thorin’s heir.

He’d failed so many, it seemed the right thing to do. It seemed to only thing he could do to make up to those brave dwarves who followed him without question, even when he’d had no right to ask him to do so.

With a soft sigh, he tried not to think about what would happen when his sister arrived. Although it had been well over a year since he’d last seen her, he dreaded it more than he looked forward to it.

He didn't meant to fall asleep, but it was quite beyond his choice. And when he opened his eyes again, dusk had fallen and all was quiet. Then he remembered and when he turned to look over at Kíli’s bed, relief surged through him at the sight of his nephew, who appeared to be resting peacefully.

Grimacing, he sat up and saw Jasna through the doorway of her chambers, sitting at what he thought was most likely her desk, studying. Óin’s angry words reverberated in his mind and he wished he had the strength to get up and walk over to check on her.

“Uncle?”

Fíli’s voice was stronger than it had been even that morning and Thorin looked over at him. “Yes?”

“What day is this?”

“I have the foggiest,” he said softly. “How are you feeling?”

“Better, but only just.” He went quiet for a moment. “It hurts too much to move, but I suppose I should be thankful I can feel the pain.”

“I tell myself the same thing.”

“Does it work?”

Thorin grinned even though Fíli couldn’t see it. “Not a whit.”

“Where is Miss Stoneham?”

“Studying. She is off the service today.”

“What happened? Did we get her in trouble?”

Thorin sighed softly. “It is not for me to discuss.”

With that, Jasna looked up and Thorin would swear he felt her gaze meet his. She looked away and then disappeared from sight and a moment later, her door closed.

Óin approached then, looking tired as he dragged a stool over to sink onto at Thorin’s bedside. “How do ye feel, laddie? This is the first chance I’ve had to come over.”

“Perhaps you should have let Miss Stoneham remain on your service today.”

Óin’s eyes narrowed and he shook his head. “Thorin, I meant what I said this morning. I will run this infirmary as I see fit.”

“I understand that, but it is you and Narnerra and Miss Stoneham and she was up far later than she should have been and that is my fault. Not hers. She is not going to turn away from the king or his nephew if she feel either one of us needed her.”

“She knew she was to be up and on rounds by six.”

“And she probably would have been, had she not been sitting up with us.”

“What did ye need her for?”

“I just—I wanted to thank her. And we got to talking. And I kept her up far later than I should have. So, be angry at me, but do not take it out on her.” Thorin glanced at the closed door in the distance. “She is inexperienced, but she has a gift, Óin. She is a calming presence, even if her knowledge is still limited.”

“Ye think so?”

He nodded. “Absolutely.”

“Despite her stammer?”

Another nod. “Yes. You saw how she calmed Fíli last eve. And she sat with Kíli and talked with him at length as well.”

“She did,” Kíli offered softly, his voice still thick with sleep. “For a moment, I forgot where I was.”

Óin sighed. “I know, laddie. But she also needs to learn to be responsible. Especially in here. There is little room for error. There is no room for it.”

“I promise not to keep her up late again,” Thorin said, wincing as the ache took root in his chest once more. It wouldn’t be long before he’d be forced prone once more, although it took a bit longer than it had been up until now. “At least, not intentionally.”

“Very well.” Óin looked from him to Fíli , then to Kíli, and back again.

“So, do not be angry with her. At least, not over this.”

Once more, Óin slowly looked all three of them over. “I don’t suppose I’ve much of a leg to stand on. Who knew ye three were so soft?”

“I place blame where it is due, not on the innocent,” Thorin told him as he gave up fighting the sting and carefully stretched flat again. “Now tell me, when will I be allowed up from this bed?”

“In due time, Thorin. Ye’ve a long road ahead of ye.”

“I’ve been abed ten days and would like a change of scenery.”

“Perhaps tomorrow. It’ll depend on how yer wounds are healing. I will change the dressings in the morning and have a better idea then.”

Thorn bit back an impatient sigh. He was never one to laze about in bed and to be forced to do so went against ever fiber of his being. But at the same time, he knew how seriously he’d been wounded, knew he had to start back slowly, no matter how impatient he grew.

But at the same time, the more he moved, the better he’d feel, or so he hoped. The sutures in his forehead itched, the ones in his chest and belly did as well, but they didn't seem to hurt as much as they had.

Still, all he said was, “Of course. I defer to your judgment.”

“Good. That would be wise.” Óin patted his shoulder. “Now, if ye will excuse me, I should tell Jasna she will be back on my service come the morning.”

“Good.” Thorin smiled, sinking back into his pillow. He watched as Óin crossed to Jasna’s chambers and rapped on the door. A moment later, she opened it. He couldn’t hear them, of course, but still, he knew she’d be back on Óin’s service come the morning and those who remained in the infirmary along with him were in good hands.

#Richard Armitage #The Hobbit #Thorin Oakenshield #Hobbit Fic #Hobbit Fanfic #Fan fiction #The Hobbit fan fiction #Thorin x OC #AU #Thorin Fic #Is it hot in here?#Romance #Everybody Lives AU #The Hobbit BOTFA

33 notes · View notes

tradingmaps · 2 years ago

Text

100 Novel Opening Lines

1. Call me Ishmael. —Herman Melville, Moby-Dick (1851)

2. It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a wife. —Jane Austen, Pride and Prejudice (1813)

3. A screaming comes across the sky. —Thomas Pynchon, Gravity’s Rainbow (1973)

4. Many years later, as he faced the firing squad, Colonel Aureliano Buendía was to remember that distant afternoon when his father took him to discover ice. —Gabriel García Márquez, One Hundred Years of Solitude (1967; trans. Gregory Rabassa)

5. Lolita, light of my life, fire of my loins. —Vladimir Nabokov, Lolita (1955)

6. Happy families are all alike; every unhappy family is unhappy in its own way. —Leo Tolstoy, Anna Karenina (1877; trans. Constance Garnett)

7. riverrun, past Eve and Adam’s, from swerve of shore to bend of bay, brings us by a commodius vicus of recirculation back to Howth Castle and Environs. —James Joyce, Finnegans Wake (1939)

8. It was a bright cold day in April, and the clocks were striking thirteen. —George Orwell, 1984 (1949)

9. It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair. —Charles Dickens, A Tale of Two Cities (1859)

10. I am an invisible man. —Ralph Ellison, Invisible Man (1952)

11. The Miss Lonelyhearts of the New York Post-Dispatch (Are you in trouble?—Do-you-need-advice?—Write-to-Miss-Lonelyhearts-and-she-will-help-you) sat at his desk and stared at a piece of white cardboard. —Nathanael West, Miss Lonelyhearts (1933)

12. You don’t know about me without you have read a book by the name of The Adventures of Tom Sawyer; but that ain’t no matter. —Mark Twain, Adventures of Huckleberry Finn (1885)

13. Someone must have slandered Josef K., for one morning, without having done anything truly wrong, he was arrested. —Franz Kafka, The Trial (1925; trans. Breon Mitchell)

14. You are about to begin reading Italo Calvino’s new novel, If on a winter’s night a traveler. —Italo Calvino, If on a winter’s night a traveler (1979; trans. William Weaver)

15. The sun shone, having no alternative, on the nothing new. —Samuel Beckett, Murphy (1938)

16. If you really want to hear about it, the first thing you’ll probably want to know is where I was born, and what my lousy childhood was like, and how my parents were occupied and all before they had me, and all that David Copperfield kind of crap, but I don’t feel like going into it, if you want to know the truth. —J. D. Salinger, The Catcher in the Rye (1951)

17. Once upon a time and a very good time it was there was a moocow coming down along the road and this moocow that was coming down along the road met a nicens little boy named baby tuckoo. —James Joyce, A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man (1916)

18. This is the saddest story I have ever heard. —Ford Madox Ford, The Good Soldier (1915)

19. I wish either my father or my mother, or indeed both of them, as they were in duty both equally bound to it, had minded what they were about when they begot me; had they duly considered how much depended upon what they were then doing;—that not only the production of a rational Being was concerned in it, but that possibly the happy formation and temperature of his body, perhaps his genius and the very cast of his mind;—and, for aught they knew to the contrary, even the fortunes of his whole house might take their turn from the humours and dispositions which were then uppermost:—Had they duly weighed and considered all this, and proceeded accordingly,—I am verily persuaded I should have made a quite different figure in the world, from that, in which the reader is likely to see me. —Laurence Sterne, Tristram Shandy (1759–1767)

20. Whether I shall turn out to be the hero of my own life, or whether that station will be held by anybody else, these pages must show. —Charles Dickens, David Copperfield (1850)

21. Stately, plump Buck Mulligan came from the stairhead, bearing a bowl of lather on which a mirror and a razor lay crossed. —James Joyce, Ulysses (1922)

22. It was a dark and stormy night; the rain fell in torrents, except at occasional intervals, when it was checked by a violent gust of wind which swept up the streets (for it is in London that our scene lies), rattling along the house-tops, and fiercely agitating the scanty flame of the lamps that struggled against the darkness. —Edward George Bulwer-Lytton, Paul Clifford (1830)

23. One summer afternoon Mrs. Oedipa Maas came home from a Tupperware party whose hostess had put perhaps too much kirsch in the fondue to find that she, Oedipa, had been named executor, or she supposed executrix, of the estate of one Pierce Inverarity, a California real estate mogul who had once lost two million dollars in his spare time but still had assets numerous and tangled enough to make the job of sorting it all out more than honorary. —Thomas Pynchon, The Crying of Lot 49 (1966)

24. It was a wrong number that started it, the telephone ringing three times in the dead of night, and the voice on the other end asking for someone he was not. —Paul Auster, City of Glass (1985)

25. Through the fence, between the curling flower spaces, I could see them hitting. —William Faulkner, The Sound and the Fury (1929)

26. 124 was spiteful. —Toni Morrison, Beloved (1987)

27. Somewhere in la Mancha, in a place whose name I do not care to remember, a gentleman lived not long ago, one of those who has a lance and ancient shield on a shelf and keeps a skinny nag and a greyhound for racing. —Miguel de Cervantes, Don Quixote (1605; trans. Edith Grossman)

28. Mother died today. —Albert Camus, The Stranger (1942; trans. Stuart Gilbert)

29. Every summer Lin Kong returned to Goose Village to divorce his wife, Shuyu. —Ha Jin, Waiting (1999)

30. The sky above the port was the color of television, tuned to a dead channel. —William Gibson, Neuromancer (1984)

31. I am a sick man . . . I am a spiteful man. —Fyodor Dostoyevsky, Notes from Underground (1864; trans. Michael R. Katz)

32. Where now? Who now? When now? —Samuel Beckett, The Unnamable (1953; trans. Patrick Bowles)

33. Once an angry man dragged his father along the ground through his own orchard. “Stop!” cried the groaning old man at last, “Stop! I did not drag my father beyond this tree.” —Gertrude Stein, The Making of Americans (1925)

34. In a sense, I am Jacob Horner. —John Barth, The End of the Road (1958)

35. It was like so, but wasn’t. —Richard Powers, Galatea 2.2 (1995)

36. —Money . . . in a voice that rustled. —William Gaddis, J R (1975)

37. Mrs. Dalloway said she would buy the flowers herself. —Virginia Woolf, Mrs. Dalloway (1925)

38. All this happened, more or less. —Kurt Vonnegut, Slaughterhouse-Five (1969)

39. They shoot the white girl first. —Toni Morrison, Paradise (1998)

40. For a long time, I went to bed early. —Marcel Proust, Swann’s Way (1913; trans. Lydia Davis)

41. The moment one learns English, complications set in. —Felipe Alfau, Chromos (1990)

42. Dr. Weiss, at forty, knew that her life had been ruined by literature. —Anita Brookner, The Debut (1981)

43. I was the shadow of the waxwing slain / By the false azure in the windowpane; —Vladimir Nabokov, Pale Fire (1962)

44. Ships at a distance have every man’s wish on board. —Zora Neale Hurston, Their Eyes Were Watching God (1937)

45. I had the story, bit by bit, from various people, and, as generally happens in such cases, each time it was a different story. —Edith Wharton, Ethan Frome (1911)

46. Ages ago, Alex, Allen and Alva arrived at Antibes, and Alva allowing all, allowing anyone, against Alex’s admonition, against Allen’s angry assertion: another African amusement . . . anyhow, as all argued, an awesome African army assembled and arduously advanced against an African anthill, assiduously annihilating ant after ant, and afterward, Alex astonishingly accuses Albert as also accepting Africa’s antipodal ant annexation. —Walter Abish, Alphabetical Africa (1974)

47. There was a boy called Eustace Clarence Scrubb, and he almost deserved it. —C. S. Lewis, The Voyage of the Dawn Treader (1952)

48. He was an old man who fished alone in a skiff in the Gulf Stream and he had gone eighty-four days now without taking a fish. —Ernest Hemingway, The Old Man and the Sea (1952)

49. It was the day my grandmother exploded. —Iain M. Banks, The Crow Road (1992)

50. I was born twice: first, as a baby girl, on a remarkably smogless Detroit day in January of 1960; and then again, as a teenage boy, in an emergency room near Petoskey, Michigan, in August of 1974. —Jeffrey Eugenides, Middlesex (2002)

51. Elmer Gantry was drunk. —Sinclair Lewis, Elmer Gantry (1927)

52. We started dying before the snow, and like the snow, we continued to fall. —Louise Erdrich, Tracks (1988)

53. It was a pleasure to burn. —Ray Bradbury, Fahrenheit 451 (1953)

54. A story has no beginning or end; arbitrarily one chooses that moment of experience from which to look back or from which to look ahead. —Graham Greene, The End of the Affair (1951)

55. Having placed in my mouth sufficient bread for three minutes’ chewing, I withdrew my powers of sensual perception and retired into the privacy of my mind, my eyes and face assuming a vacant and preoccupied expression. —Flann O’Brien, At Swim-Two-Birds (1939)

56. I was born in the Year 1632, in the City of York, of a good Family, tho’ not of that Country, my Father being a Foreigner of Bremen, who settled first at Hull; He got a good Estate by Merchandise, and leaving off his Trade, lived afterward at York, from whence he had married my Mother, whose Relations were named Robinson, a very good Family in that Country, and from whom I was called Robinson Kreutznaer; but by the usual Corruption of Words in England, we are now called, nay we call our selves, and write our Name Crusoe, and so my Companions always call’d me. —Daniel Defoe, Robinson Crusoe (1719)

57. In the beginning, sometimes I left messages in the street. —David Markson, Wittgenstein’s Mistress (1988)

58. Miss Brooke had that kind of beauty which seems to be thrown into relief by poor dress. —George Eliot, Middlemarch (1872)

59. It was love at first sight. —Joseph Heller, Catch-22 (1961)

60. What if this young woman, who writes such bad poems, in competition with her husband, whose poems are equally bad, should stretch her remarkably long and well-made legs out before you, so that her skirt slips up to the tops of her stockings? —Gilbert Sorrentino, Imaginative Qualities of Actual Things (1971)

61. I have never begun a novel with more misgiving. —W. Somerset Maugham, The Razor’s Edge (1944)

62. Once upon a time, there was a woman who discovered she had turned into the wrong person. —Anne Tyler, Back When We Were Grownups (2001)

63. The human race, to which so many of my readers belong, has been playing at children’s games from the beginning, and will probably do it till the end, which is a nuisance for the few people who grow up. —G. K. Chesterton, The Napoleon of Notting Hill (1904)

64. In my younger and more vulnerable years my father gave me some advice that I’ve been turning over in my mind ever since. —F. Scott Fitzgerald, The Great Gatsby (1925)

65. You better not never tell nobody but God. —Alice Walker, The Color Purple (1982)

66. “To be born again,” sang Gibreel Farishta tumbling from the heavens, “first you have to die.” —Salman Rushdie, The Satanic Verses (1988)

67. It was a queer, sultry summer, the summer they electrocuted the Rosenbergs, and I didn’t know what I was doing in New York. —Sylvia Plath, The Bell Jar (1963)

68. Most really pretty girls have pretty ugly feet, and so does Mindy Metalman, Lenore notices, all of a sudden. —David Foster Wallace, The Broom of the System (1987)

69. If I am out of my mind, it’s all right with me, thought Moses Herzog. —Saul Bellow, Herzog (1964)

70. Francis Marion Tarwater’s uncle had been dead for only half a day when the boy got too drunk to finish digging his grave and a Negro named Buford Munson, who had come to get a jug filled, had to finish it and drag the body from the breakfast table where it was still sitting and bury it in a decent and Christian way, with the sign of its Saviour at the head of the grave and enough dirt on top to keep the dogs from digging it up. —Flannery O’Connor, The Violent Bear it Away (1960)

71. Granted: I am an inmate of a mental hospital; my keeper is watching me, he never lets me out of his sight; there’s a peephole in the door, and my keeper’s eye is the shade of brown that can never see through a blue-eyed type like me. —Günter Grass, The Tin Drum (1959; trans. Ralph Manheim)

72. When Dick Gibson was a little boy he was not Dick Gibson. —Stanley Elkin, The Dick Gibson Show (1971)

73. Hiram Clegg, together with his wife Emma and four friends of the faith from Randolph Junction, were summoned by the Spirit and Mrs. Clara Collins, widow of the beloved Nazarene preacher Ely Collins, to West Condon on the weekend of the eighteenth and nineteenth of April, there to await the End of the World. —Robert Coover, The Origin of the Brunists (1966)

74. She waited, Kate Croy, for her father to come in, but he kept her unconscionably, and there were moments at which she showed herself, in the glass over the mantel, a face positively pale with the irritation that had brought her to the point of going away without sight of him. —Henry James, The Wings of the Dove (1902)

75. In the late summer of that year we lived in a house in a village that looked across the river and the plain to the mountains. —Ernest Hemingway, A Farewell to Arms (1929)

76. “Take my camel, dear,” said my Aunt Dot, as she climbed down from this animal on her return from High Mass. —Rose Macaulay, The Towers of Trebizond (1956)

77. He was an inch, perhaps two, under six feet, powerfully built, and he advanced straight at you with a slight stoop of the shoulders, head forward, and a fixed from-under stare which made you think of a charging bull. —Joseph Conrad, Lord Jim (1900)

78. The past is a foreign country; they do things differently there. —L. P. Hartley, The Go-Between (1953)

79. On my naming day when I come 12 I gone front spear and kilt a wyld boar he parbly ben the las wyld pig on the Bundel Downs any how there hadnt ben none for a long time befor him nor I aint looking to see none agen. —Russell Hoban, Riddley Walker (1980)

80. Justice?—You get justice in the next world, in this world you have the law. —William Gaddis, A Frolic of His Own (1994)

81. Vaughan died yesterday in his last car-crash. —J. G. Ballard, Crash (1973)

82. I write this sitting in the kitchen sink. —Dodie Smith, I Capture the Castle (1948)

83. “When your mama was the geek, my dreamlets,” Papa would say, “she made the nipping off of noggins such a crystal mystery that the hens themselves yearned toward her, waltzing around her, hypnotized with longing.” —Katherine Dunn, Geek Love (1983)

84. In the last years of the Seventeenth Century there was to be found among the fops and fools of the London coffee-houses one rangy, gangling flitch called Ebenezer Cooke, more ambitious than talented, and yet more talented than prudent, who, like his friends-in-folly, all of whom were supposed to be educating at Oxford or Cambridge, had found the sound of Mother English more fun to game with than her sense to labor over, and so rather than applying himself to the pains of scholarship, had learned the knack of versifying, and ground out quires of couplets after the fashion of the day, afroth with Joves and Jupiters, aclang with jarring rhymes, and string-taut with similes stretched to the snapping-point. —John Barth, The Sot-Weed Factor (1960)

85. When I finally caught up with Abraham Trahearne, he was drinking beer with an alcoholic bulldog named Fireball Roberts in a ramshackle joint just outside of Sonoma, California, drinking the heart right out of a fine spring afternoon. —James Crumley, The Last Good Kiss (1978)

86. It was just noon that Sunday morning when the sheriff reached the jail with Lucas Beauchamp though the whole town (the whole county too for that matter) had known since the night before that Lucas had killed a white man. —William Faulkner, Intruder in the Dust (1948)

87. I, Tiberius Claudius Drusus Nero Germanicus This-that-and-the-other (for I shall not trouble you yet with all my titles) who was once, and not so long ago either, known to my friends and relatives and associates as “Claudius the Idiot,” or “That Claudius,” or “Claudius the Stammerer,” or “Clau-Clau-Claudius” or at best as “Poor Uncle Claudius,” am now about to write this strange history of my life; starting from my earliest childhood and continuing year by year until I reach the fateful point of change where, some eight years ago, at the age of fifty-one, I suddenly found myself caught in what I may call the “golden predicament” from which I have never since become disentangled. —Robert Graves, I, Claudius (1934)

88. Of all the things that drive men to sea, the most common disaster, I’ve come to learn, is women. —Charles Johnson, Middle Passage (1990)

89. I am an American, Chicago born—Chicago, that somber city—and go at things as I have taught myself, free-style, and will make the record in my own way: first to knock, first admitted; sometimes an innocent knock, sometimes a not so innocent. —Saul Bellow, The Adventures of Augie March (1953)

90. The towers of Zenith aspired above the morning mist; austere towers of steel and cement and limestone, sturdy as cliffs and delicate as silver rods. —Sinclair Lewis, Babbitt (1922)

91. I will tell you in a few words who I am: lover of the hummingbird that darts to the flower beyond the rotted sill where my feet are propped; lover of bright needlepoint and the bright stitching fingers of humorless old ladies bent to their sweet and infamous designs; lover of parasols made from the same puffy stuff as a young girl’s underdrawers; still lover of that small naval boat which somehow survived the distressing years of my life between her decks or in her pilothouse; and also lover of poor dear black Sonny, my mess boy, fellow victim and confidant, and of my wife and child. But most of all, lover of my harmless and sanguine self. —John Hawkes, Second Skin (1964)

92. He was born with a gift of laughter and a sense that the world was mad. —Raphael Sabatini, Scaramouche (1921)

93. Psychics can see the color of time it’s blue. —Ronald Sukenick, Blown Away (1986)

94. In the town, there were two mutes and they were always together. —Carson McCullers, The Heart is a Lonely Hunter (1940)

95. Once upon a time two or three weeks ago, a rather stubborn and determined middle-aged man decided to record for posterity, exactly as it happened, word by word and step by step, the story of another man for indeed what is great in man is that he is a bridge and not a goal, a somewhat paranoiac fellow unmarried, unattached, and quite irresponsible, who had decided to lock himself in a room a furnished room with a private bath, cooking facilities, a bed, a table, and at least one chair, in New York City, for a year 365 days to be precise, to write the story of another person—a shy young man about of 19 years old—who, after the war the Second World War, had come to America the land of opportunities from France under the sponsorship of his uncle—a journalist, fluent in five languages—who himself had come to America from Europe Poland it seems, though this was not clearly established sometime during the war after a series of rather gruesome adventures, and who, at the end of the war, wrote to the father his cousin by marriage of the young man whom he considered as a nephew, curious to know if he the father and his family had survived the German occupation, and indeed was deeply saddened to learn, in a letter from the young man—a long and touching letter written in English, not by the young man, however, who did not know a damn word of English, but by a good friend of his who had studied English in school—that his parents both his father and mother and his two sisters one older and the other younger than he had been deported they were Jewish to a German concentration camp Auschwitz probably and never returned, no doubt having been exterminated deliberately X * X * X * X, and that, therefore, the young man who was now an orphan, a displaced person, who, during the war, had managed to escape deportation by working very hard on a farm in Southern France, would be happy and grateful to be given the opportunity to come to America that great country he had heard so much about and yet knew so little about to start a new life, possibly go to school, learn a trade, and become a good, loyal citizen. —Raymond Federman, Double or Nothing (1971)

96. Time is not a line but a dimension, like the dimensions of space. —Margaret Atwood, Cat’s Eye (1988)

97. He—for there could be no doubt of his sex, though the fashion of the time did something to disguise it—was in the act of slicing at the head of a Moor which swung from the rafters. —Virginia Woolf, Orlando (1928)

98. High, high above the North Pole, on the first day of 1969, two professors of English Literature approached each other at a combined velocity of 1200 miles per hour. —David Lodge, Changing Places (1975)

99. They say when trouble comes close ranks, and so the white people did. —Jean Rhys, Wide Sargasso Sea (1966)

100. The cold passed reluctantly from the earth, and the retiring fogs revealed an army stretched out on the hills, resting. —Stephen Crane, The Red Badge of Courage (1895)

8 notes · View notes

drarrily-we-row-along · 4 years ago

Text

Day 125.4: Accidental Bonding (Part Four)

(You can start at Part One, if you’d like.)

"Come on," Harry begged, the following Friday. "Please come to dinner." The bond had only seemed to strengthen in the past eighteen days and Harry found his mind turning to thoughts of Draco almost constantly whether they were together or apart.

And touching the other man was almost second nature at this point. They spent all day every day touching the other without thinking; they sat with their ankles pressed together under their desks, hands brushed against shoulders and backs as they walked past each other, they frequently held hands without even talking about it first, and Harry couldn't remember the last time that he'd woken up without being wrapped around Draco's body or vice versa. Yes, the bond wasn't showing any signs of weakening.

"Your friends hate me, Potter," Draco reminded him as he pulled a wine glass down out of the cupboard.

Harry sighed, "But they wouldn't if they got to know you."

Draco leveled him with a glare, the kind that Harry had learned to recognize as a shield of sorts that the other man used when he was feeling insecure. "They have good reason to hate me," he said as he filled the glass.

"Not anymore," he protested.

The other man rolled his eyes and took a large swallow of his wine.

"Come on," he said again. "If you're there no one will flirt with me."

Draco face twisted in disgust, it was unpleasant for both of them if someone touched one of them with certain intentions.

"If they're rude, you can leave right away," he added.

"What's in it for me?" Draco asked.

He thought for a moment, "A foot rub," he offered, remembering the night that Draco had drunkenly been complaining that his feet hurt and Harry had drunkenly offered a foot rub. There'd been something immensely satisfying about it, he assumed it was something to do with the bond and not with the look of rapturous delight on Draco's face.

(Read more below the cut)

Draco's eyes narrowed, "And I can leave immediately if they're unkind."

"Yes."

"And you'll give me a long foot massage?"

He laughed, "Yes."

"Fine."

Harry grinned at him. "Excellent. Let's go then, they're meeting us at The Night Owl."

"How did you know I'd say yes?" he asked, looking affronted.

"I didn't," Harry lied, even he'd had a strong suspicion he could convince the other man. "They could eat there without us if you didn't want to go."

He didn't seem entirely convinced but he allowed Harry to take his elbow and he apparated them to the apparition point closest to The Night Owl.

Ron and Hermione were already sitting at a booth when they arrived, and Harry slid his fingers through Draco's as he headed over. "Hey," he greeted brightly.

His best friends both looked up, smiling at Harry before doing a double take when they saw Draco standing there beside him.

"Malfoy," Hermione said, eyebrows lifting. "What a surprise!" she said, glancing at Harry.

He could feel Draco's nervousness like it was a tangible thing. "Yeah," Harry said, widening his eyes meaningfully at her, "I told you he might be coming."

"Yeah," Ron said, "But we didn't think he actually would."

"Well," Draco said, detaching his hand from Harry's, "This has been fun but I'm going to-"

"No," Harry said, turning toward him and grabbing his hand again, "It's fine," he said, glaring at his friends, who he had told to be on their best behavior and to just give the other man a chance.

"Yes," Hermione piped up. "Stay, please. We were just surprised."

Draco looked at Harry for a long moment, obviously arguing with himself before nodding once and sliding into the booth.

Harry slid in next to him, the first (and hopefully largest) hurdle out of the way.

------------------

Dinner went surprisingly well. Hermione and Ron obviously struggled a bit but Harry had asked them to give him a chance and they seemed to be trying.

Everyone seemed to relax a bit once they'd had a few drinks and when Draco got up to use the loo, Harry turned to his friends, "So?" he said eagerly, "He's different, right?"

Ron and Hermione looked at each other before Hermione said carefully, "I think it's too soon for me to tell."

"Yeah, mate," Ron agreed, "I know you've always had that thing for Malfoy but," he shrugged, "it's hard to know what's real and what's an act."

"You do know that he like cut ties from his parents, right?" Harry asked incredulously, "he believes that all of that pureblood nonsense is garbage."

"Does he though?" Hermione asked, "Or is that just what it behooves him to have you believe?"

"He lives in a tiny flat!" he protested. "He said that he was so compelled by your arguments about house elves that he couldn't bring himself to have one for his flat."

"Are you sure?" Ron asked, "Or does he just hide it from you? House elves are wicked good at magic."

"He knows how to cook," Harry said, "From scratch. And he knows cleaning spells," he added. "Why would he have to know cleaning spells?"

Hermione looked at him thoughtfully, "Maybe you're right-"

"Just give him a chance," he said. "You won't-"

"Better talk about something else," Ron interrupted, "He's headed this way."

"Well, I tried to get Lugnok to speak with me about the discrimination that Goblins have been facing for ages in the wizarding community, but he wasn't very forthcoming," Hermione started as Draco slid into the booth once again.

"Oh," Draco said as he pressed his shoulder against Harry's and they both relaxed into the pleasant hum thrumming through the bodies, beginning at their shoulders and radiating outward. "I read the last article that you published in The Daily Dilemma," he said excitedly. "It was fascinating," he added.

"Really?" Hermione asked, sounding surprised.

He nodded, "I always wanted to learn more about Goblin magic but good information is so hard to find. When I was young, I'd hoped that it was something they'd teach at Hogwarts-"

"Yes!" Hermione agreed emphatically. "I have been trying to convince Minerva of that for years."

"We don't know nearly enough about magic that other beings possess and honestly," he said, lowering his voice slightly, "I don't know why any other magical being puts up with us. I can't understand it." He shook his head, "I mean for all intents and purposes, their magic is stronger than ours and they've got better control of it. A house elf, for example," he said, "when they want to apparate somewhere it's just a snap of the fingers. And their blind apparation is loads better than ours," he shook his head, "And that's just one spell."

Hermione nodded, "It's never made sense to me."

Draco swallowed, "I'm sorry about that, by the way," he said, not quite meeting her eye, "for making fun of your organization." Then his mouth twisted, "For a lot of things, really," he continued. "Many that were worse than that."

"Thank you," Hermione said after a moment. "I appreciate your apology."

He nodded once. "You probably know this already, but Henri Laurence is a real advocate for changing the way we treat other magical beings. He could probably help your causes."

"Who?" she asked, brows furrowing as she tried to place the name.

"Henri Laurence," he repeated.

She shook her head, "I'm not familiar with that name."

"He works in transportation," Draco replied.

"Why would I talk to someone in transportation?"

He gave her a wry smile, "Henri works closely with a lot of department heads to schedule their trips. He's very amiable and everyone loves him," he added. "More than one political career has risen and fallen by his words. He also works with the Minister quite a bit, the Minister is quite fond of him."

"I never would have thought to start there. Thanks for the tip," she said, giving him a cautious half smile.

"Of course," Draco said automatically. "I'd be glad to give you names if you're ever wondering the best way to get things into people's ears. I'm afraid I can't do introductions, though," he said with a self depreciating laugh.

"Thank you," Hermione said, sounding genuinely grateful. "That would be so helpful."

Draco gave her a little smile and Harry felt hope bubbling merrily in his chest.

----------

As the evening drew to a natural close, Harry couldn't help but think that everything went exceptionally well.

Draco was still talking about Hermione's current project with the Goblins at Gringotts as Harry headed back toward the bedroom, Draco trailing along behind him. "It's invaluable," he said as he started to strip so he could put on his pajamas. "This research could change the way that we think about other beings. We could really have the opportunity to understand them better and then maybe we'd understand our own magic and our own limitations better."

Harry nodded, "You sound just like her. I thought you two might hit it off."

"Did you?" Draco asked curiously as he crawled into bed.

He nodded, sitting at the bottom and pulling Draco's left foot into his lap, pressing his thumbs up the curve of Draco's arch. "You're the only other person I know who likes to talk about Magic Theory."

He let out a low moan as Harry's thumbs rubbed the ball of his foot, "Potter, you are really good at that," he said, thoroughly distracted from the conversation they'd been having.

Harry laughed.

"I'm serious!" the other man protested. "If the whole saving the world, one idiot at a time thing fails, you can go into foot massages."

Chuckling, he shook his head, "Can you imagine?"

"Yes," Draco replied, closing his eyes and settling further into the mattress, "I'd come see you every day."

"Ah, in that case," Harry teased, "maybe I should think about it."

"You do that," he said, in that distant voice that meant he wasn't listening to him anymore.

"Read something," Harry said.

The other man opened one eye to look down at Harry, "What?"

"Read me something," he said. "Grab a book off your nightstand," he said, nodding to the pile, "And read. But don't pick something boring."

Draco reached over and plucked a slender book off the nigh stand, "I think you'll like this one. He gets everything wrong but it's delightful." He cleared his throat, "In a hole in the ground there lived a hobbit..."

Harry listened as he read, a smile tugging at his lips, his chest filling with warmth.

This was nice, Harry couldn't help but think. Living with someone, sharing meals with someone, having someone in your bed when you went to sleep and when you woke up. It was nice to have the sound of someone else's voice and the feeling of someone else's hand in yours.

He wondered if he'd miss it when the bond ended in twelve days.

More importantly, he wondered if Draco would miss it.

--------------

Part 3 | Part 5

#100 drarry drabbles in 100 days #one year of drarry drabbles #drarry #slow burn apparently #falling in love #enemies to friends to lovers #forgiveness #accidental bonding #drarry ficlet

251 notes · View notes