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#and am in awe that she defies it most days
emailsicantsnd · 3 months
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respectfully, i feel like the vogue world outfit is the first time in a while sabrina's actually looked her height
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skipper1331 · 6 months
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fan girl // Alexia Putellas
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a/n: based off this request!
It was movie night at Alexia‘s, the girls seated around her living room as snacks and soft drinks were on the coffee table for everyone.
The girls had to decided to watch your new movie, all of them a big fan of your acting. Alongside you, big names like Margot Robbie and Ryan Reynolds - the movie was made to be a hit.
And Alexia had to admit that she watched every single one of your movies, most of the time more enjoying the view rather than the plot. It didn’t matter if she was the queen of football, she was madly crushing on you.
For once, Alexia wasn‘t getting Fan-girled but was Fan-girling herself. Something about you made her heart flutter, cheeks blushy and starstruck.
So, every time you appeared on screen, Alexia zoned out, comments from her friends falling to deaf ears, snacks long forgotten. She was completely in awe.
"That movie was mind blowing!" Claudia stated shocked after the movie had finished.
"That ending was very unexpected" Patri joined before the whole group talked about the movie. They discussed the ending, the plot, what they liked and didn‘t like, and the acting skills of each individual - simply everything.
-
A few weeks later, the call came that Alexia had to attend to an event, nothing knew for the Ballon D‘or winner you might think, but this event was different. Not necessarily from what would happen there but from the guests. Normally, some important people from the sports industry would be there, many media people or other important people in general - people Alexia knew or (dis)liked.
This time though, you would be there too. Alexia only knew this because she saw your instagram story - a window picture out of a plane, Barcelona marked as the destination - big headlines in the news.
In the following days, Alexia acted nervous and excited, sights you didn‘t see often. Mapi made fun of her because of that, even though she could understand Ale‘s excitement - who wouldn’t be excited to meet you?
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"How do I look?" Alexia asked Mapi and Ingrid.
Both of them had agreed to help the Barcelona captain get ready as everything had to be perfect - perfect to meet you. She wanted to talk to you - that might be her only chance to ever talk to you, she didn‘t want to ruin that. She had to be subtle about approaching you yet attentive, respectful and kind. She couldn’t be some weird obsessed fan, she had to be herself - Alexia.
"Just be yourself" Mapi stated when Ale couldn’t stop rambling about you. What would you be wearing? How should she start a conversation? Would there even be an opportunity to talk to you? Are you nice? You probably are, no bad words about you in the world - everybody always talking highly of you.
"How am I supposed to be myself?! She‘s literally a Hollywood star!" Alexia defended herself. As if it was so easy to be herself.
"María is right, though" Ingrid added, "Ale, you‘re not just anyone, who knows maybe she‘s a football fan herself. Just start the conversation casually, be nice, ask her about her interests and everything should be fine" the Norse explained, trying to ease the Catalonians mind.
Alexia wasn‘t just anyone, she was a Barcelona player, World Cup winner, 2x Ballon D‘or winner and many other trophies winner, but most importantly, she was human. Her trophies didn‘t defy her as a person - she wasn’t arrogant or bragging about her achievements, instead she was a friendly, caring and supportive friend.
"Thank you"
-
Alexia attended the event, more nervous than usually.
She talked to the people she had to, conversations about football or other business stuff or talked to some people who she actually enjoyed talking to.
Yet all evening, she kept looking for you, not seeing you anywhere which disappointed her. She was looking forward to see you, for once not on tv.
When she went to the bar, ordering a drink, she had already lost hope, until she tensed up.
"Hola la reina" a voice beside her greeted, accent thick.
Tilting her head, she saw the gorgeous smile of you, "hi" she greeted, smiling shyly.
You had referred to her as la Reina.
"I have to admit, I’m a bit disappointed that I was only able to talk to you now" you said, taking a sip of your drink. Everything seemed so effortless when you did it.
"I‘m Y/N Y/L/N, big fan"
Shaking your hand, she replied "Alexia Putellas"
After that the conversation came floating by with an ease, all nervousness from the both of you washed away.
Alexia wasn‘t the only fan girl here, you fan-girled about her just as much, raised as an Barcelona fan since you were a little girl.
All night, you continued flirting with each other, discovering same interests and discussing topics from a-z, also not talking to anyone else but each other. It felt easy to talk to Alexia, no judgement at all as she listened to everything you had to say. She couldn’t care less if it was a random fact, even though you had seemingly very much of them (which she secretly absolutely adored) or if it was your opinion on whatever. She enjoyed hearing you talk, your opinions and points of view well explained.
At some point during the night, she asked "So, you‘re an football fan?"
"Oh yes, absolutely"
"Favorite club?"
"Real Madrid, obviously" you joked, her reaction hilarious - wide eyes, open mouth, look of disgust on her features.
"I‘m joking!" you laughed, "I’m a culer through and through"
"You almost gave me an heart attack!" she hit your arm playfully, continuing to talk about football. This time is was you who listened. The sound of Alexias voice angelic.
You loved how passionate she talked about her profession and how serious she got when she analyzed something, she was the perfect mixture of professionalism and passion - something you admired.
When the night came to an end, you walked her outside, waiting for her taxi to arrive.
"It was nice meeting you, la reina" you beamed, squeezing her hand as you had held it on the way out, so she wouldn’t get lost.
Girls thing.
"Likewise"
Looking at one another with googly eyes, no one realized that the taxi had arrived until the driver honked, bringing you back to earth.
"I would like to see you again, sometime?" you shifted nervously on your feet, eyes darting across her features. She was breathtaking.
"Maybe at the match next weekend?" Alexia didn’t expect you to say yes with your busy schedule and new upcoming projects but she tried it anyways. She really wanted to see you again.
"I will be there"
The midfielder‘s face lit up, the widest smile on her face, eyes sparkling as her heart jumped around happily.
"Good night, la reina and stay safe" you pressed your lips on the barcelona players cheek before you walked back inside with shaking hands. You had just kissed the famous Alexia Putellas’ cheek and it felt good!
Alexia on the other hand had crimson red cheeks, was breathing heavily as she touched completely dazed the spot were your lips had been seconds ago.
It seemed like you would stay for another few days in Barcelona. This wasn‘t the end. Maybe, for once, you wouldn't be playing a role in a romance film, but would be living your very own romance.
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mothiir · 2 months
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Fulgrim’s Guide to the Care and Keeping of Your New Pet Human
so this is inspired by the space marine husbandry posts floating about, but because it’s Konrad it got quite dark 😅
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Darling Konrad, words cannot convey my delight that you have decided to welcome a human into your home. They are such wonderful companions, and so rewarding — but since it is your first time owning one I thought that I would put together a little guide for you!
Your humans first days at home:
I think it is simply wonderful that you’re adopting a rescue human — the Great Crusade has left so many of the poor dears without a home to call their own! You mentioned in your letter that you found her after the fall of Mercodia VI — am I right in assuming that she is one of the survivors of that little unpleasantness? If so, she may well be even more wary than normal, but don’t worry. Humans have quite short memories, and given enough time and care she’ll soon forget the fate of her family and friends. After all, they were awful traitors and got what they deserved for defying Father’s will — but in the meantime, don’t take anything she says personally. She’ll be upset and confused and will quite possibly lash out at you. I would advise letting her settle in on her own for a few days— maybe even a week or so. Put her in a room where your sons can’t trouble her (I’m sure the sweet little bats mean well, but they will play far too roughly for her), and give her some food and water. If you hear her crying, don’t worry — this is all very new for her, and she is probably quite overwhelmed. Eventually, she should calm down, and start exploring the room more thoroughly. Humans can be escape artists, so make sure it is well-secured. When you are ready to interact with her, I recommend skipping her morning meal so you can feed her yourself, therefore creating a positive association — you are the bringer of food! Don’t try and hand feed her; place the food on a plate and slide it towards her. Let her get used to eating with you in the room. She will probably be quite grubby, and humans are by nature fastidious creatures, so offer her a wet cloth and a bowl to clean herself, and a change of clothing. Avert your eyes if she makes use of either. Humans — especially female humans — do not like being watched while they disrobe. The key to helping your human settle in is consistency and patience! The initial adjustment period will be difficult but I promise you it will all be worth it.
Feeding:
Humans are relatively easy to feed. They require far less nutrition than your average Astartes and they will eat pretty much anything. However, in order to keep your human in the pinnacle of health I suggest a varied diet with plenty of fresh fruit and vegetables, and lots of clean water. Humans enjoy sugar, but make sure you don’t give her too much — it’s bad for her teeth. If you give her a meal she does not eat, do not get angry with her: humans can be picky eaters. Ask her what sort of food she would like to be given in future. Keep a note of what food she prefers. Food is an excellent way to build trust, as I noted above, and a great conversation starter. Just please do not tell her that you consume human flesh — humans tend to be squeamish about such things.
Grooming:
I have included some soap, shampoo and conditioner with this letter — I appreciate that you might not know quite how to use them, but present them to your human and I assure you she will be most grateful. Humans enjoy keeping themselves clean — indeed, it can be very sweet to watch them cover themselves with bubbles! — and I am sure she arrived into your keeping quite disgusting with the remnants of battle.
It probably goes without saying, but just to be clear: do not let her bathe with or near your sons. They will probably get a little overexcited. When they have learned to pet her nicely, then they can interact with her — but always under your supervision.
I have also included some clothes. Part of the joy of having a human is being able to dress them up, and it can be a fantastic bonding experience for you both. However, do not force it. Present her with the options and let her pick one. If there is one you would rather her wear, introduce it slowly — let her choose between that option, and something hideous. Don’t force her — everything should be done gently, coaxing her along. And that brings us to our next point —
Training:
I was going to call this section ‘discipline’ but I thought that sent the wrong idea. You should never punish your human as you would an Astartes. She is breakable in more ways than one — not only physically frail, but mentally as well. The sort of rough treatment that your sons would shrug off could quite easily kill her.
Instead of punishing undesirable behaviours, redirect her focus. For example, as I mentioned above she may be quite upset with you for burning her planet and flaying the inhabitants. This is a natural behaviour — that is, the human pack bonding instinct — but expressed poorly (that is, through denying the supremacy of the Emperor’s will). Do not punish her for being angry at you; instead, work on healthier outlets for her pack-bonding instincts. It may be a little earlier for her to pack-bond with you, so I’d suggest getting her something she can pack-bond with instead. A puppy is always a good option, though if you do decide to do this please ask me for breed recommendations, because I have seen the dogs that are native to Nostrames and I do not think they are suitable pets for an ork, let alone a human.
She may try and escape. Once again, this is her natural behaviour to explore and colonise. Try playing hide and seek with her, or encouraging her to wander the ship under your supervision.
Naming:
Your human probably comes with her own name, but to answer your question — yes, you can change it. In order to get her to answer to the new name, inform her that this is her new title, and reward her every time she responds to it. It might be difficult, but not impossible.
Regarding the name itself: none of the names First Captain Sevetar suggested are acceptable. Most aren’t actual names. Please do not take his advice in naming your new pet.
Spaying/neutering, the physical, are you really planning to — The other stuff:
I understand that the physical side of your relationship with your human is your primary concern at present, as you mentioned in your letter. Repeatedly. And although I do appreciate the detail you went into when describing her assets, I would recommend that you do not repeat most of what you wrote to her. I understand that you think ‘your face looks better on your skull than it would on my trophy wall so you get to keep your face’ is a compliment — and it is! — but humans are not quite as au fait with the finer points of language as we are, so she will probably take it the wrong way.
I am not saying that you cannot progress to greater intimacy with your human — I have been married four times (to women, despite what Russ likes to say), and it is quite the experience. However, I really must urge that you give her time to settle in and become accustomed to your presence, so she is more likely to reciprocate your advances.
When you feel she has started to warm to you a little, write to me again and I can help guide you through the next stage of human ownership. It is a marathon, not a sprint, but all the more rewarding for it!
As an aside — whatever Captain Sevetar says regarding intimacy is wrong. Do not listen to his advice. Do not do anything he suggests. If anything, do the opposite.
Forever yours, and all the love in the galaxy,
Fulgrim
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violetdawn001 · 3 months
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What is with the Dreamers' Houses?!?! Monomon's Archives
Okay, we can all agree that Team Cherry put a LOT of thought into crafting the backgrounds and environments of Hollow Knight. But why is nobody talking about the designs for the Dreamers' houses?! Especially compared with their base forms?  Well, let's start talking about it!
Behold! Monomon's Design!
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Taken from Monomon-the-Teacher.jpeg (1280×720) (punishedbacklog.com)
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Taken from: https://i.ytimg.com/vi/Yn7QtF-wkSY/maxresdefault.jpg
When you meet the Teacher, the first reaction is either "She's beautiful…" or "WHAT IS A JELLYFISH DOING IN A KINGDOM OF BUGS????" If one isn't your first reaction, then it will most certainly be your second.
I could go on about how Monomon pairs her elegant beauty with her mysterious origins, but then I would be repeating words all day. Let us pause and consider how Monomon, as THE Teacher, would teach Physics…while defying them. It isn't too much of a stretch to say Monomon would float outside of her tank when the all the other Jellies in game do.
Next is her Archives that to my knowledge, lacks books.
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We are immediately treated at the entrance of Monomon's Archives.  The only word that could sum it up would be awe: awestruck due to the beauty and the mystery. Looking at Monomon's house from the front can't help but remind one of how Jane Austen would describe a character's house…and how the house perfectly matched the character.
Entering the Archives, we quickly guess that no one has been here in a long time.
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But walk in far enough…
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And you can't help but guess what an awesome place this must have been.  Take a look at the detail!
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The insane amount of knowledge stored here is amazing…and we're on the first floor!
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Though we can't read most of it…and what we can read…
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Why Monomon, why? Even STEM students need to be proficient in spelling. Source: my engineer brother.
Moving on, the pathway to Monomon's tank is very straight-forward. So much so that we never get a chance to see all of the Teacher's Archives. One point that strikes me is that we never get a chance to see any classrooms. We see Monomon as a researcher as noted by the Charged Lumafly tank and entry:
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We know Monomon as a collector of information:
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We even get glimpses of Monomon being a mad scientist by creating the Uomu, Oomu, and Uummu.
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But the only sign of Monomon being a teacher is by her relationship with Quirrel and the name of her Archives. Unless I am missing something, (or we are simply not able to enter the classrooms) the Archives are more of a library and research center than a school. While I am of the mind that we simply do not see the whole Archives as we are so dead-set on getting to Monomon herself, it really says something about Monomon that we can only see the Madame as a Teacher in her relationships with others.
I would love to further this point, but this essay is for the Dreamers' houses, not necessarily the relationships the Dreamers had unless the relationships are implied in the housing designs themselves, such as the masks in Herrah's Den. Another essay would be required so the Dreamers' relationships can be given the focus and care they deserve.
Returning to Monomon's Archives, it is strange that of all the rooms we get access to, it is not ones that Monomon's students can enter. The pathway to Monomon's tank is blocked by acid.
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Yet we are the ones able to see Monomon in her resting place.
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Besides Quirrel. But Quirrel has a habit of getting into places most wouldn't dare enter. And it is fitting that Quirrel, Monomon's closest student, is the one to enter Monomon's inner sanctuary.
The Tech in the room is simply amazing and begs more study. Atlas, I fear I might have missed a great deal when it comes to the Teacher. If there is anything more, I hope another member of the Hollow Knight community will step up to fill the void, pun intended.
Now, let us discuss a resting place not for Monomon, but for the player.
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Is not this place so elegant in its decay? The perfect symmetry and the framing of the moss ceiling…it is a terrible pity we could not see the Teacher's Archives in Hallownest's prime.
Moving past the pity, let me share a little detail. Team Cherry, when designing each location, placed signs of the ruler of said location in the framework of the place, usually in the fencing. For Teacher's Archives…
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It's right at the bench! Which means Monomon is in charge!
The above statement, while made in good jest, possibly bears more weight than on a passing glance. We see no Hallownestian Seals or crests imbedded within the walls. There are also no King's idols or any item to be retrieved from the Archives. Everything in the Archives is centered around Monomon and her research.
This idea gives rise to a theory that perhaps the Teacher's Archives was not part of Hallownest, but rather neutral territory where ANYONE could come to learn about anything in peace. This would not be the first time in media where such a place existed. The TV show "Babylon 5" tells the story of a space station created as a place where the different alien races can learn about the other races in neutral territory for the purpose of creating peace.
 To answer some objections, yes, "The Pilgrams' Way" does pass through Fog Canyon, but it also passes through Greenpath which technically belongs to Unn, not the Pale King.  And the Archives is one of the few places that has its own, unique bench. 
If the Archives is not part of Hallownest, what does this neutrality tell us about Monomon? If the Teacher's Archives is indeed neutral territory, it shows how much emphasis Monomon puts on knowledge being open to everyone as the purpose of the Archives is a place to store all the knowledge she collected.
But if Monomon was neutral, how did she get involved with the Dreamer plan? Simple. Monomon cared about her students. Monomon welcomed everyone from anywhere, and everywhere was infected by the Radiance. To save her students, the majority of whom came from Hallownest, Monomon became a Dreamer. Unfortunately, it was all in vain as the world fell into stasis as one by one Monomon's students either died or fell to the Infection. The Archives, where you could find anyone from anywhere in Hallownest, now only holds jellyfish…
Before we wallow in sorrow, let us escape to the City of Tears and to the final Dreamer. Wait for part 3.0 coming soon!
This is a part series to see if I can fit everything in. I hope you enjoyed Monomon's Archives!
Part 1.0: Herrah's Den : Here
Part 2.0: Monomon's Archives (You are here)
Part 3.0: Lurien's Spire : Here
Part 3.25: More of Lurien's Spire: Here
Part 3.5: Lurien's Spire: Pillows and Patriotism: Here
Link to essay on Ao3: Here
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iluvsturn · 7 months
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my dearest y/n-c.s
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warning:sad
a/n:i cried writing that..
"my dearest y/n,
As I sit here, engulfed in the waves of grief that crash relentlessly against the shores of my soul, I am compelled to pour out my heart to you, my beloved. The mere thought of you fills my being with an ache so profound, it seems to stretch across the vast expanse of eternity itself. How can mere words encapsulate the depth of my love for you, or the magnitude of the loss I feel in your absence?
From the moment our paths intertwined, my life was forever changed by the brilliance of your presence. You were a force of nature, a whirlwind of laughter, love, and boundless energy that swept me off my feet and carried me to heights I had never dared to dream of. Your laughter was like music to my ears, a symphony of joy that reverberated through the chambers of my heart, filling me with an inexplicable warmth and happiness.
In your arms, I found sanctuary, a safe haven where I could lay down my burdens and be truly and wholly myself. You accepted me, flaws and all, with a grace and kindness that knew no bounds, and in your eyes, I saw reflected the love and acceptance I had been searching for all my life. You were my rock, my anchor, my guiding light in a world fraught with uncertainty and darkness.
And then, as if by some cruel twist of fate, cancer reared its ugly head, threatening to tear us apart and shatter the fragile bonds we had forged with such care and tenderness. But you, my brave warrior, refused to be defeated, facing each day with a courage and resilience that left me in awe. You fought with every fiber of your being, clinging to life with a tenacity and determination that defied all logic and reason.
Together, we embarked on a journey fraught with pain, fear, and uncertainty, navigating the treacherous waters of illness with a steadfast determination to emerge victorious on the other side. We laughed in the face of adversity, finding solace in the simple pleasures of everyday life and drawing strength from the unbreakable bond that held us together.
But as the days turned into weeks, and the weeks into months, it became increasingly clear that our time together was slipping away, slipping through our fingers like grains of sand in an hourglass. And though I clung to hope with all my might, praying for a miracle that would defy the odds and grant us more time together, deep down, I knew that our days were numbered, that the inevitable was drawing near.
And so, my love, as I sit here, penning these words through tear-stained eyes, I am overwhelmed by a profound sense of gratitude for the time we shared, for the love we nurtured, and for the memories we created together. You were my everything, my reason for being, and though you may no longer walk beside me, your spirit lives on in every beat of my heart, in every breath I take.
Until we meet again, my love, know that you will always hold the most sacred place in my heart. You were my soulmate, my confidante, my partner-in-crime, and I will carry the memory of our love with me for all eternity.
With all my love and devotion,
Chris."
chris closes the letter, tears streaming down his cheeks in front of the grave of his beloved. God how he’d like to hold her in his arms, to be able to tell her how much he loves her, to be able to kiss her one last time times before leaving.
matt and nick are behind their brother.Crying too, y/n had become like the little sister they never had. By dint of coming every day they decide that she could move in with them. Chris and y/n got even closer and the same with matt and nick. A group of inseparable friends, a couple they thought were indestructible, but even if she can't be with them, they don't know that y/n look at them, her too crying from paradise, wishing them all the happiness in the world.
-🩷
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camille-lachenille · 2 months
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You look at the sea, daughter of the forest, and turn away in fear, hiding your small face in the skirts of your nurse.
This is home now, she told you, but you miss the trees and glades of your memories. But even as young as you are, you understand these are gone forever, ashes and dust, just like your family is gone.
You look at the sea, daughter of the forest, walking down the beach as you hold your nurse’s hand.
Look at this seashell, she told you, and you picked it up to listen the song of the sea contained within its polished curves. You are not scared anymore, for the sea may seem endless but can still fit in a seashell.
You look at the sea, daughter of the forest, and besides you stands a son of the mountains.
The sea is your home too, now, you told him, and he nodded silently, awe painted over his face. You are glad to have a friend who loves the sea too.
You look at the sea, daughter of the forest, the light of the jewel casting a rainbow of colours on the waves.
I will wear it, you said, defiant. You would not let fear consume you but now, you doubt. What if you should keep it hidden?
You look at the sea, daughter of the forest, wondering what lays beyond the horizon and where your husband is now.
It will be a matter of a season at most, he told you before setting sail, and you choose to believe him, to believe in his hope. You blessed his ship with the jewel, for good measure, and he smiled and kissed you goodbye.
You look at the sea, daughter of the forest, a hand curled protectively over your still flat stomach, and worry about the future.
I am with child, you told your husband earlier today, and he spun you in his arms, laughing and crying. He promised to stay by your side until the child is old enough, and you loved him all the more for this.
You look at the sea, daughter of the forest, as you slowly walk down the beach, a child clinging to each one of your hand.
I need to go, to find a safe place for our boys to grow, your husband told you, and you let him go, resigned. He wasn’t wrong after all, but you still felt like he broke his promise.
You look at the sea, daughter of the forest, your back turned to the flames, blood and death as you face the waves.
If you want the jewel, come and take it, you shouted in defy when you saw them, the monsters that haunted your nights as a child and your days as a mother.
You look at the sea, daughter of the forest, and you fall with a prayer on your lips. After everything they took from you, they will not have your life.
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ParaPines Prompt: The boys take it upon themselves to explore a seemingly abandoned mansion. But are rather surprised, upon entering, to discover that it isn't as abandoned as they'd first believed. Dun dun dun!
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The sound of heavy winds hits the old windows of the wooden house in the beautiful meadow clearing one late summer or early autumn day. A pair of small children, six years old at most, run across the tall grass and around the abandoned home, curly messes of brown hair bouncing and swaying in the wind and sunlight like bubbly twigs of tree roots or chestnuts popping in a fireplace upon the winter nights, their cheeks rosy and innocent of youthful heavenly glow of freckles and adorable sweetness.
One of the children, one of shorter hair, climbs up a nearby tree with a boyish giggle, thin rosy knees touching the bark as he climbs as the other sibling stands below watching in awe. Once on top, or at least the highest high point a small six year old can go, he looked around with wide wondrous brown eyes at the great wide space. A small shadow dance across the tall grass, causing the boy to squint his eyes into focus, it moves to a fro in gentle glide like a feather drifting on a rippling lake. The shadow, now easily told to be a boy of pale skin and black clothes of velvet and cotton, cranks his head up with the help of his thin pale neck and locked eyes with the adventurous young lad in the tree, sky blues meeting Earthy browns, clashing in beautiful harmony.
On August 3rd, I have met an angel in human form. My heart yearns for you, my soul burns for you. From your skin to your eyes, you haunt my very being And stripped me bare with bliss as my only coat. We may be from different class, we may be two men, But I can say in pure confidence I love you, Norman.
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Dipper scribbles onto his notebook, his chocolate brown eyes looking up from the beige pages across the wooden floor of the Mystery Shack at the group of teens standing by some bobble heads. His eyes were glued to a specific teen in a cherry red hoodie who laughs at one of the fish head bobbles, his long nose scrunched and snort lightly as the fish head moves back and forth.
A pink sweater hits the teen boy as his twin pops up beside him, “You’re being creepy bro bro!” Dipper jumps, instinctually pulling his notebook to his chest with a sucked in breath between his teeth with a startled yelp, and instantly scans around. “Wh-What? No I’m not! How is that creepy? Of course I’m not being creepy!” He ends his ramble with nervous wheezy laughter as his cheek warms up due to being called out. Mabel, who’s hair was held up in a glittery scrunchy held pony tail and dressed in a heart patterned sweater, grins wider and giggles, “Yeah you were. You were totally checking out your new GOTH BOYFR—” Dipper quickly slaps his hands onto her mouth to stop her shouting across the shack like a loudspeaker broadcasting his emotions, his eyes wide and covered in terror. Thankfully it seems no one is paying attention to them.
Dipper let out a sigh and removed his hands and glared at his sister sternly, who only laughed in return. “Oh come on Dipper, you should know by now how excited I am! I mean, you, and one of our best friends—” She lets out a little squeal, her fist shaking in joy as she bounces on her toes. The boy can’t help but smile at his sister’s pure excitement of his recent mystery: A Crush. Now, Dipper hasn’t had much history of liking anyway, he even used to make faces at the actors kissing in movies, his most well known was with their friend Wendy who at the time was a teen. But that crush slowly faded after the summer ended with both being closer friends than before, now he has a freshly new found crush in the form of Norman Babcock, a 14 year old boy from Massuchutes that arrived a month ago for a family vacation to Gravity Falls. His skin is ghostly pale, his hair dark and defies all forms of gravity in spikes and whoosh, eyes a frosty blue that almost shimmer or shine like a bottle of starlight. Dipper never imagined he would be crushing on anyone like him, let alone actually being friends with him! PLUS, HE CAN TALK TO GHOSTS?! Can anyone say jackpot?!
Still, he keeps it quiet for the time being, much to the pain of his twin sister who so eagerly wishes her brother can be open about his romance.
“Really Mabel, it’s not that big of a—” “It’s a HUGE deal Dipper! You two should be a couple now! You can have a cute long distance relationship, have ghost hunting dates, then go to the same collage, and get married, and—” Mabel was shut up once more with a hand over her mouth in courtesy of Dipper.
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“Come on, it’s this way!”
Dipper walks up the trail of the woods, behind him tow and in order are Norman, who walks more so looking around blissfully curious of the tall trees that are fading a warm yellow of the greens, Wirt, who’s height blends perfectly with the tall shadows of the trees, Dib, the more richer of the group thanks to his father’s well known inventions and in thanks to that he’s holding a special briefcase full of new gadgets for the upcoming mission, and Mabel, who comes along obviously with a skipping hop of her high top lavender sneakers. The Mystery Kids, a name still under construction but Mabel keeps calling them such, officially started their little “missions” of the unknown and strange around the area about the same time Wirt’s family arrived to Gravity Falls. Some may use the idea of solving mysteries and researching the paranormal as all a front and they’re really a group of teens who sneak into graveyards and goof off, but lots of Gravity Falls locals know the truth.
The group of them stand by the rusty gates with curious eyes and humble smiles. The building is square shaped with a high perked V-Shaped gray tiled roof with one large chiming poking from the side, the house is fully surrounded by overgrown wooden overhanging panels, the second floor is bigger than the first, which creates a stylish overhang on two sides of the house. It’s beautiful and haunting all at once, a sight to see as it sits frozen in decayed time in this beautiful meadow of dead grass and weeds. “That, right there, is one of the most haunted house of Gravity Falls' forests. Built in the late 19th century and was seemingly abandoned after the family who lived in it mysteriously disappeared.” Dipper spoke, making an effort of teasing as he wiggled his fingers while telling the last part, earning a chuckle from Norman. He continued, “They say screams are often heard, the windows open and close on their own, and hallways that change—” “EVIL DEVIL!”
The teens jump and turn around, half expecting a ghost while also half expecting one of the adults in the area, and were confused to see an elderly woman standing there clutching her cane in white knuckles furry. “An evil demon lives among those hideous walls! The Reaper always shakes when he walks past it knowing the demon will steal his soul!” She shouts, her voice shrill and raspy like a strangled pig, good thing Waddles is back at the Shack.
Wirt, ever so obviously uncomfortable when it comes to weird warnings from his elders whether it’s good or bad, slowly shuffles his way to distance himself from the fence he was just peeking through until he’s practically towering behind the more calm Dib who glances at him over his shoulder. Holding back an eye roll, the richest of the group speaks up, “What do you mean? Is it really haunted? Who’s The Reaper?” The old woman growls, spitting at the ground, her saliva ball almost hitting the teens who scurry more tense of the sudden attack even though it wasn’t towards them, “The Reaper was the most RUTHLESS man Gravity Falls has ever seen! A gangster who shot a rich man and kicked down a poor man for a deal of gambling, a trickster who conned the wickedest of souls for a mere laugh, a monster who took in some orphans was the one kindness his soul can allow! He was a robber of souls with the barrel of his silver gun, he cut off the lives of those who dare cross him, a walking curse of death!”
The group look at each other in various forms of worry as she rants and grumbles, her cane swaying in the air. Suddenly, a woman hurries over and guides her away. “Come on Grandma, it’s almost lunch time.” She said, speaking very gently. The old woman only shouts, “THE DEMON WILL NOT REST!” The woman sighs and turns to them, her head hung with apology and slight embarrassment, “I am so sorry for my grandma. She never quite shuts up about her grandpa…”
Dipper’s head perked, he steps forward, her voice eager for knowledge, “The Reaper guy is her grandpa?” The woman only nods, rubbing her arm as she looks at the building behind them, “Yeah. Apparently he took in her dad back in 1916 and since then pretty much everyone only talks about him. And also warn anyone about that damn house…” The boy looked back at the house, almost expecting someone wandering about to somehow explain such a violent reaction from what would be such a frail looking old lady.
The women walk away to the car that waits for them, presumably waiting for the grandmother, leaving the gang of mysteries to stand there still.
“Yeah I’m sorry Dipper, but I think I’m going to pass on entering that house…” Mumbled Wirt. Dib snorts out, turning around to the 16 year old. “Really?” He sneered, “That scared you?” Wirt’s dark browns narrow as he stares down at the trench coat wearing emo, “I literally survived a deal with an evil demon of a magical forest that turns kids into trees, I’m not risking staying a few hours in an old abandoned house with a possible evil demon that scared a mafia boss. I much rather stay the night at the abandoned yarn factory.” Mabel steps between them, her bubbly personality and colorful spirit and clothes clashing between the dark academia and dark clothes aesthetics between her, her smile bright as her voice, “Hey now you two, no grumpy faces. Wirt doesn’t have to go to the house Dib-Dot.” She boops two stickers onto their chest, a smiley face on Dib’s and a glittery frog on Wirt’s, her mouth puckered and making the tiniest of faint fart noises with each jab of the sticker. 
Dipper looked away from the three talking at Norman who stands still by the fence looking back in. Man, how can anyone be this pretty? He thought to himself as he watch how the sunlight dance across the darkness of the psychic’s hair to the pale flesh of his skin, dancing little kaleidoscopes of shine in his blue eyes, creating patterns never seen before on the red fabric of his hoodie to the dark denims of his jeans, and that perfect expression of curiosity like a black cat peeking at a rabbit hole of Wonderland. The younger Pines twin slowly touched a ghostly grip of his shirt, scared of how loud and hard his heart was pounding it was just about to beat right out of his rib cage and spill across the ground for all to see. Quickly, he shook his head so hard he nearly fell dizzier than spinning in a long fast circle in 0.89 degrees with every 5 seconds until he grew sick. “U-Uh, you guys don’t have to join me tonight…” He blurted out, feeling his cheeks already going pink from the near voice crack he thought he was almost done with being 15 already. He fixes his hair as he looks at all their faces, stopping at those curious blue eyes that stop him in his tracks. Just then, his brain hit a much needed light switch. “Because we’re doing different missions. I’ll stay at the house, do some EVPs, some ghostly tests, and prove once and for all if it’s actually haunted or something else is behind it. You guys can go to the abandoned yarn factory and try and see what those spray painting messages mean.”
He turned to Norman, blocking out Dib and Wirt talking about their little theories of the mission in hand, and with a smile on his face to mask the nervous sweat stains forming in-between his armpits to his shirt, he says, “Hey, you can come help me tonight? It’s, uh, it’s been a while since we did a solo mission, right? Ofcourseifyoudon’twanttoIcan’tforceyouIwon’tforceyoutodoanythingofcoursecauseIvalueyoursafteybutnotlikeMOREthaneveryoneelse’ssafetycauseIcareforallofyouequallyanddeeply—IjustrealizethatsoundedweirdandcreepywhatImeanttosaywas—!” His rambles were stopped thanks (thank whatever God or whatever exists) to Norman smiling and patting his shoulder. “Dip, breath. Of course I’ll come with you.” “W-Wait really?” Dipper just hopes he didn’t sound too eager there. Norman snorts, “Yeah. I can’t let you go into a possibly dangerous abandoned house by yourself now can I?” Dipper smiles, using every fiber of his still growing body to stop him from jumping up and down shouting from the rooftops while his fist punches and messes with the air, instead he settles watching Norman go to the group to tell them he’s staying with Dipper. A night with Norman, and I asked him without puking! Dipper let’s out a very silent squeal under his breath.
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Soda:  ✔
Snacks:  ✔
Phone Downloaded The Right Playlists:  ✔
Step-By-Step Plan:  ✔
Dipper checks each mark of his notebook as he hurries about getting his back ready. He already has his bag ready for his paranormal stay but he needs to hurry to get ready for his actual plan if the night goes well. And if they don’t die. That too.
As he places the phone charger in his brown bag, he scrolls through his phone of his well thought of plan of setting the right mood for him and Norman’s hunt.
First, he thought very carefully about the snacks Norman would enjoy most during the night. Bringing the cheesiest of Cheetos and already packed four cans of his top two favorite sodas on the bottom so they would remain nice and cool and not shaken by the time when they drink them. Next, he has already planned that Norman might be stressed or bored however the trip goes into the night so he is going to give him his cellphone to listen to his well thought playlist of Norman’s favorite music to calm him down and get a sense Dipper can totally rock out with him whenever. Starting simple yet basic with Skater Boi, just to give Norman the impression at first it’s random — It’s a classic of course — then it’ll transition still pretty basic but random of Sugar, We’re Going Down to give Norman that more comfortable feeling of “Ah, this guy has good music taste. Respect” , then picking up on some Paramore which Dipper was luckily to find out the few times Norman let him pick a random Spotify playlist shuffle for the gang to listen to while they chill with a song that Dipper feels will help settle the more “Oh this guy and I have have so much in common! He’s way cooler than I thought!” With Ain’t It Fun. All ready with a click of the screen button of Dipper ready made playlist under the name of “Favorite Songs”, previously called “Songs to flirt with your paranormal hunter friend who you have a major crush on”. FINALLY, after all that, all the thought planned into it perfectly, Dipper will take Norman by the hand (or wrists or arm or whatever) and lay it all out; “Norman, we’ve been friends for so long, and I honestly can’t imagine me being this close to someone until we started talking. I like you, really really like you, and I want us to be more than friends, will you go out with me?” Dipper fist bumps himself as he mentally rehearses the night’s perfect plan. He even picked a easily seen Level 4 haunted house that could’ve been exercised by any ghosts years ago just to ease Norman’s ghost seeing abilities. Though he didn’t plan that random old lady or it’ll just be the two of them alone. In a huge house. At night. He blushes and shakes his head, ending it with a self smoosh of his face into his hands. “Calm down Dipper,” He scolds himself, looking at himself in the mirror to triple check his appearance, “Don’t go having weird thoughts tonight. Tonight is the night and it’ll be perfect.” He smiles. He waves a quick finger gun motion at his reflection with a grin.
"Bang!"
Crows take the skies as a figure runs across the woods. The orange trees trapping the shadows within. Footsteps echo across the vast land of nature as soon the figure of a black cloak stops by the largest tree of the forests, a shadow slowly consuming him. Laughter leaves his mouth as two strong arms wrapped around him, lifting him above the dirt and leaves of the Earth’s welcoming ground and soul, and spun around. A howl of amusement and surprise snaps the already fragile air of quiet as they fall onto the ground.
Lips found home among as soon as their laughter died down enough, bruised and worn hands entwining with nimble pale fingers as brown curls blended with the raven darkness underneath. “In quiet nights, my heart calls out to thee, Through whispered winds where softest secrets weave. Oh Norman, love that sets my spirit free.” Spoke the hunter, lips now kissing each joint of the pale hand before him, “With every glance, a spark ignites the sea, Your laughter dances like the autumn leaves; In quiet nights, my heart calls out to thee. The stars align in constellations key; Each moment spent with you I dare believe— Oh Norman, love that sets my spirit free. . .” The two men shared a brief but everlasting soft kiss upon their lips as the autumn air drifted down and circled around them. Buttons of the pristine white cotton shirt became loose as chapped lips dance across the pale neck now exposed to the world, the forest trees an audience of such passion and love on display.
“When shadows fall and doubts may linger plea, Your warmth envelops all I can conceive; In quiet nights, my heart calls out to thee. Together facing storms we’ve braved so boldly—    With hands entwined through trials that deceive—    Oh Norman, love that sets my spirit free. So here’s my vow through time’s unfading spree:     Forever yours, on this sweet truth rely—     In quiet nights, my heart calls out to thee;     Oh Norman dear—I’ll always choose your sky.”
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The floorboards creak under the weight of two as Dipper fixes the brightness of his flashlight as Norman turns his up to the open ceiling hole created by nature’s random acts of destruction. “Okay, let’s start filming. Got the camera?” Asked Dipper, pushing some curls into his beanie as he steps by the large grand staircase that curves and goes up to the second floor where it seems a hole is forming on one of the stairs. Norman nods, “Yep! Fully charged and Courtney helped me get an extra battery if it dies.” The medium takes the camera out of his backpack with a grin, a boyish gleeful shine of his blue eyes.
Dipper blushes, the warmth spreading down his neck and up to his ears. Thank God it’s dark in here…. With a quick clearing of his throat, the mystery lover took the camera carefully from Norman and began setting up the settings. “We will start here on the down floor since the stairs seem broken and old. Sounds good?” “Yeah it’s good dude.”
Dipper looked at Norman through the video camera lens, silently admired his friend through the green color, and took a deep breath. Reaching in his pocket in secret he peeked at his list, quickly reading the scribblings of his handwriting in the darkness, and then shoved the papers back in his pocket.
First step, snacks. Dipper reaches into his bag, “Hey Norman, are you hungry? You know, since we’re going to be here all night.” He offered, holding up the bag of Cheetos to his friend. Norman smiles and takes it. “Hey my favorite!” He exclaimed. Dipper felt pride fill his chest as he stood up straighter, rubbing his neck he chuckled, “Really? Lucky guess…”
Then, silence swept through the pair. Dread whacked the brunette. Crap, was I obvious on the snack choice? He thought, afraid to look at him imminently. “Lucky as in a wild guess, yeah! You know, I remembered you mentioned it once and—” Dipper stops as he turns his head to speak to Norman properly, face flush in embarrassment and palms sweaty. He looked at Norman, who stood so very still facing the grand staircase before him, his bag of chips on the floor now and the hand holding the flashlight was turning white from his tight grip, his thick eyebrows were high up in a wide eyed expression and his mouth slightly agape.
Dipper’s brown eyes followed the piercing blue’s line of sight and shivered at the sight of an audible green glow before them. The scent of sickening decay and dirty water fills his nose as his vision stared at the figure of a man above the stairsteps, his clothes and the long pale green hair shift and waver like wind or ocean waves crazing across the manly figure making the float in the process, his eyes two white sockets streaking a black tear like substance as glistening fangs shine dully in the lights of the flashlight and the moonlight from both the ceiling’s hole and the large window to the left.
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The figure let out a gnarly hiss, the same black substance leak and spray out like venom on a snake tongue as his long sharp tongue wiggles about harshly like a whip. The two paranormal teens let out screams, their bodies crashing onto each other in tight grips of both fear and protection.
But let’s pause for a moment. I wonder what’s everyone’s doing in the yarn factory—
“YO I TELL YOU WHAT I WANT, WHAT I REALLY REALLY WANT!”“SO TELL ME WHAT YOU WANT, WHAT YOU REALLY REALLY WANT!”
Wirt lightly taps his can of Pit Cola as he watches Mabel and Zim, both dressed in sparkling sweaters and hairs, regardless of the snortness on Zim’s end, held in scrunches, standing together singing into their flashlights. The group in charge of this exploration are Mabel, Wirt, Dib, and Zim, Dib’s brother. The group looked at some spray painted works of art and words, did some EVPs, and the mission was over rather quickly. BUT thanks to Mabel wanting to give her brother some alone time with Norman, she encouraged the other teens to stay and have an impromptu hang-out party inside this abandoned yarn factory.
Dib watches his brother and friend dance and sing with the shadows and dust bunnies, their hyper energies almost mistaken for them on some sort of high but clearly mildly influenced by sugar and bouncing each other’s energies, his face, much like Wirt's, is confused and mildly amused. “So much energy…” Mumbled the poet, his peachy skin a pinkish hue thanks to the summer heat rolls. The cryptologist to be chuckles, opening a can of soda next to him, “Yeah, but it makes this less boring yea?” The brunet looked at the guy next to him, a small smile easing on his lips. “Yeah. It is.” Dib smiles back, raising his can as a silent toast, and swigging the sugary cherry flavor down his thin pale throat. Wirt stares quietly as the shadows dance and sway across the thin body next to him, watching the inventor’s son’s throat jerk and move as he gulps his drink. Dib disconnected his mouth and looked at the one watching him, his brown eyes almost shining an amber color like fire or frozen sap from a tree behind his glasses that bounces light from the few small sources around him. He smirks, “Worm-Wirt.” Wirt smirks in return, “Metal Head.”
Meanwhile back at the manor—
Dipper and Norman ran across the halls of decayed wallpaper and weak wooden home, the ghastly ghost rushing after them in screams and wails. “In there!” Shouts the medium as he jerks his hand in a point at an old door in the hall. Dipper wasn’t waiting a second to think. He quickly grabbed the red sweater covered arm and pulled his friend through the door so fast both tumbled and rolled onto the dusty dark room.
Both stayed still as they heard the ghost move away, trying to catch up to their breathing.
“W-Was that the demon the woman mentioned?” Dipper asked, coughing the dust that filled his throat for the moment. Norman groans but shakes his head. “No,” He mumbled, “It felt normal…” They stared at the door for a moment, their bags open and left to spill their items across the hideous wine red rug. Dipper gasps and hurries to his bag, “Oh crap, the drinks spilled!” Sure enough, the sodas he packed had tumbled out of his backpack, shaken and dented from the running and falling. Not only that but the rest of the snacks he prepared have been crushed or opened and spilled.  He can hear Norman standing up and going closer. “It’s okay Dip, it’s not a huge deal.” He said, his voice gentle in worry and tender in comfort. Dipper looked over his shoulder and felt his very soul freeze. The room has a large window, worn and jaded, halfway covered by the dark curtain but still the moonlight shines though. The moonlight shines across the pale skin making a soft glow to the point he looks like a fae like being with dark for his dark spiky hair, his blue eyes now glowing frosty orbs. He was very beautiful, breathtaking even.
Dipper shakes his head and stands up straight and proper, turning his head right to try and get himself distracted by the thoughts swimming in his head. As he does so, his eyes scan to room and lock on a bricked fireplace hidden behind a weathered down piano. He jogs over, a simple push was all it took to easily move the surprisingly light piano to the side just enough to expose the fireplace to them. Norman looked in the barren pit, filled with dried and cobwebbed invested logs and dust mites that can be confused as some weird dust army. But there’s something there, hidden among the logs and shadows. Braver of the two of this moment, Dipper reached forth and lightly jiggled the top log until whatever was stuck was loosely showing off. 
Just then, some bugs of black sprawled out from their hidings, causing the teen to shriek and coil back. Norman, startled yet determined, grabbed the item and moved back with his friend, an arm stretched over Dipper’s heaving chest.
The two caught their breath and looked down at the treasure hidden and stared at some pages of many, thin and aged in fresh yellow time painted gracefully.
“Why would these be in a fireplace?” Asked Dipper as he took half of the healthy stack into his hands and fiddled with his flashlight and shined it through to give them easier chances to read the contents. Norman’s blue eyes scanned the yellow pages and black scribbled lettering, his eyebrows frowned as he mentally pieced how to read the cursive fine handwriting. He licks his now dry lips, clearing his throat simply, and spoke, “My dear, I apologize deeply for leaving you so soon, so abruptly. But understand I never meant to hurt you… This is the only way you can be spared. You, the son of the town’s pastor, and I, a humble wood cutter, were a chance a thousand years can never repeat. Two souls entwined and cursed forevermore. It was my fault Susan caught us in the manor, so it will be my burden to take off the punishment for abandoning God. For I have abandoned him, ever since I first laid my eyes on you back in the fields all those years ago, you’ve become the only Holy soul I desire to worship every day…. This is the end, my dear Norman, but I will be with you… All my love, Mason Driftwood…” They both look at each other blinking in shock. “Your name—” “Someone died for being in love with a guy…?” “R-Right, that!”
Dipper quickly looked through his pages, clearing his throat in a cough, “In the quiet corners of morning light, where shadows stretch and breathe, I find my love—Norman— woven into the fabric of every day…” He stops. He feels his cheeks burn. It felt too intimate and he barely even read it! If you found some love poems dedicated to someone who has the same name as your crush, you would get it! Fighting the urge to swallow the page before him, the boy continued with a quivering voice, “Y-Your laughter dances around me, a melody sweet as spring’s first bloom, enveloping ordinary moments in magic, turning mundane into sacred ritual. When you speak, the world slows down; Your voice—a gentle river flowing through my thoughts—
each word is a pebble smoothed by time…”
Norman stands there, listening to him read the letter, his head tilted softly to the side like a curious cat.
“In your eyes, I see galaxies unfold— stars that twinkle with unspoken dreams,
the universe conspiring to bring us together. Together we weave tapestries of shared whispers, soft stories beneath star-kissed skies; comfort in silence amidst bustling chaos….”
Dipper looked up and looked towards Norman, the flash light giving him a soft yellow glow beneath his nose and chin. They stand still, eyes locked, eyes wide and bewildered. The sounds of the wind blowing, the floors creaking naturally, and the crickets composing a symphony with the other woodland creatures outside perform the gentle ambiance between them. It’s weird… They’re scared shitless and confused yet this feels weirdly…enchanting…
“Dipper…” Norman whispered, his eyes narrowed as he steps a inch closer, his free hand lightly touching his arm. Dipper’s heart began to quicken in his chest as excitement and panic sinked in. Wait, is he— Is he going to kiss me??? But what about the steps?! I didn’t show him the playlists! The sodas and snacks are all over the floor— Oh God Oh God Oh God! Should I lean in? Should I stay still? I have never even kissed a gu— Well there was Mabel’s merman boyfriend but that doesn’t count! DON’T THINK ABOUT MERMANDO NOW DIPPER, THE MOST PERFECT GUY MAY BE TRYING KISS YOU!! “Y-Yea…?” He responded, trying to sound chill and not at all a nervous wreck. Their eyes never once left each other as they felt the air grow chillier. 
Suddenly, Norman shoved his body forward, leaving Dipper no time to process what was happening. The two fell out the window, the curtain trapping their bodies in a tangled mess. The last thing Dipper saw in the manor before he landed safely in the ground and rolled down the hill was that ghost who scowls and reaches for them.
The pair stopped rolling, landing in the golden green high grass of the field facing the fence they snuck through earlier. Firebugs float and circle around them in such a beautiful way one might dare claim it be magic lingering in the night. They stare at each other, the grass and stars creating crowns with the fireflies as one stares above and the other stares below. 
Dipper flinched, turning his head away as he coughed into his fist. “Oh ow, that fall hurt! Good thinking Norman on guessing the ghost was there!” He said in false confidence as he stood up. Norman, he stays still for a second, looks rather upset before he nods and stands as well, rubbing his arm anxiously. This wasn’t unnoticed by Dipper as he bent over and gathered some papers, even more as he watched Norman copy the same action. Crap, did I misread earlier? He thought in worry, feeling near nausea at the idea he made his friend and crush uncomfortable. “H-Hey if it’s about what happened earlier, don’t worry about it okay? I-I mean we both were kind of reading too much into it and it was dark and—” He rambled, and each fumble of his words made the knots of his tongue tighter. Soon, Norman stood, holding the recently picked up stacks of papers in his arms, his back to Dipper yet his voice carried all the emotions a face can show… “Yeah, it was crazy thinking… I mean us….like that…?”
Dipper froze. He felt his heart crack a bit as the quivering shake of Norman’s usually calm but sometimes chipper voice. “We should get our stuff in the morning with the others. I’m tired…” “O-Oh…y-yeah…yeah…okay…’ And with that the two began to walk out of the gate with the hiding hole they found to get in and down the path in pure silence. Crap…I really messed up…
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The two teen boys walk into the Greasy’s Diner, the scent of freshly brewed coffee and greasy fried food wafted through them like a bomb of different textures. The place was barely full, mostly those who are the earliest of early birds and those who don’t even believe in sleep. Norman rubs his arm as he slowly walks to the first booth he sees, causing Dipper’s shoulders to hunch slightly. “I’ll…go order some breakfast…” He mumbled before quickly turning his heel to the counter, his head hung and tail between his legs.
The second he sat on one of the stools he let out a sigh, hands already rubbing his tired sore eyes that ache and begged for him to cry the emotions he’s feeling right now. He sighs again, “And I forgot my wallet is in my bag back at the haunted manor we just escaped from…” A voice speaks to his left, “Hey, what did you say about paying?” Dipper turned his head at a blonde teen who stood with a pot of freshly brewed coffee as her hips swayed out in a sigh in her waitress uniform, her glittery mauve eyeshadow a nice touch that made her hazel eyes really pop. Even tired and emotional out of his mind, he can’t help but smile meekly, “Hey Pacifica…”
Pacifica rolled her eyes and poured up a cup of Joe and placed it in front of the boy. “You look like shit, what were you up to tonight?” She asked, her sassy judgment not gone but just slightly pushed back to add a more gentle approach. Dipper ignores the idea of payment as he accepts the bitter blessing of energy this warm ceramic cup will bring, taking a quick gulp and ignoring the very hot water and nasty dense flavor of untempted coffee given his mouth. Once he sets his mug down, silently thanking his friend with a nod as she tops it off, he sighs once more, deeper this time, “A Dipper Pines Original; Took someone out to a haunted manor in hopes it’ll be romantic and completely messed everything up…”
The blonde watched as he slumped deeper in his seat, placing a napkin beside him slowly. “Is this about the Norman guy?” Dipper’s head shot up. “How did you know?!” He half whispered, worried that Norman could hear. Pacifica rolled her eyes again, her voice dripped in a slight tease, “Dude you are so obvious. Always doodling and talking all fast and sweating.” Dipper groans and puts his head onto the counter, his cheek squished in the glossy wood. “I have no idea what to do anymore Pacifica…” He moped, his eyes already sparkling in tears, “I planned this night perfectly, yet I screwed it up. I honestly don’t blame him if he doesn’t want to talk to me again but… is it selfish to hope he stays in my life…?”
Hazel eyes softened. The waitress glanced behind Dipper and to the right. Her pink lip glossed lips pushed out in thought, her head nodding. Slowly, she led down just enough to not be obvious for everyone and whispered, “I can tell you this now Dip-Shit, but he likes you. Like a lot. I mean he’s always looking at you.”
Not believing it, Dipper crook his neck just enough to look at where Norman sits. And sure enough, even after tonight, Norman glanced at his direction unknown he was spotted, his hands fiddling with his sleeves. “If I were you, I would sit next to him and fix what I can.”
Dipper didn’t need to be told twice before he stood up, scrapping the stool loudly in the process, his hand gripping the mug still. He stops. “Pacifica, I—” The girl stops him. “Just come by tom—” She pauses as she glances at her wrist watch of bubble gum pink. “Later today and you’re good. But not your first three coffees, you boys had a long night.” He nodded, a soft smile on his face, before he took a breath and made his way to the booth.
Norman watches as Dipper sat across from him, his hands stop fidgeting for a moment. Dipper smiles meekly, eyes clearly tired, his voice a warm tone of tender fresh emotion as he speaks, “We can eat and pay later.” Soon, his brown eyes lower as he frowns softly, “Hey Norman, I’m sorry for dragging you out tonight… That wasn’t cool of me. You could’ve gotten hurt and I ruined so much and—” Pale hands rose up and shook as Norman interjected, “No no, Dipper, I wanted to go to the house with you. Plus, I literally fought a murdered little girl ghost at 11, this was nothing.” He ended his response with a small giggle to ease the mood. Dipper smiles, pulling his beanie (how it stayed on his head God knows—) off his head of brown curls and placing it on the table by his mug. “Still… I… kind of invited you…in hopes to um…be alone…with you…”
Norman blinks. “With me?” Dipper nods, his chest rising as he swallows the sour lump in his throat, “I…I’ve liked you for a while…a-and um…I think you’re really cool and all kinds of awesome… I was hoping tonight we can chill, hang out, talk… and maybe… afterwards…” His face was turning red, he knew this. He can feel it. From the base of his neck to the tips of his ears he was undoubtedly hot and redder than a new born baby’s freshly spanked tosh. Meanwhile, Norman just sat there clearly processing what his friend was drifting off to. Soon, his pale face turned pink. So pink it put Barbie to shame. No turning back now… Thought Dipper as he sat up straight. Clearing his throat, he threw the last punch, “Do you want to go out with me Norman? A-And…maybe…b-be my boyfriend…?”
SORRY IF IT'S SUCKY/SHORT I AM TIRED AF!
This prompt was fun to do but had a much deeper story of Mason, the ghost in the manor, died protecting his Norman, who was going to be revealed to be the mafia guy "The Reaper", from the discovery of them being gay. HEAVILY inspired by the music video of Take Me To Church of course! I was also going to reveal the reason Norman became a mafia guy was cause a part of him died the night Mason died.
I even planned a scene of Dipper and Norman reading the letters to each other until Ghost Mason crossed over!
I know it's random but I wanted to see what timeline would jump in so
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Yeeeeeeeeeeeee, night yall
Happy ParaPines Day!!
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missmungoe · 1 year
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This is gonna sound SOOOOOOO corny but your writing is genuinely the best part of my day, at any given moment I have andromeda unbound open on my phone and am reading it 🥺🥺🥺 very eagerly awaiting the final chapter, I hope you don’t think it’s rude, but is there perchance snippet you deem worthy of sharing 🥺👉🏾👈🏾
This is not corny or rude at all, I am delighted!! I'm still working on this chapter, but here's a snippet<3
The Red Line was broken in half, the once-impervious mountain range severed in the middle by a gaping chasm, parts of it still crumbling into the churning sea below. And where the holy land of Mariejois had once sat, the highest seat in the world, there was nothing. The white city was gone.
Turning to Luffy, Makino didn't know which was more shocking, but now that they weren’t falling towards certain death, she managed to get a better look at him, although wasn't sure what she was looking at.
“What,” she began hoarsely, her hand lifting to cup his cheek, warm to the touch, as though he’d just come in from basking in the sun. The pitch-black hair that had always refused her efforts to comb it down was bleached white, like his irises. It gave him an eerie look, as though he wasn’t human. And he’d had his devil fruit powers for most of his life, had always been a little unusual, but this had to be something else, surely? “What is this?”
Lifting his hand, Luffy turned it over, observing the wisps of white smoke where they curled around his wrist. His eyes lifted back to hers, still that pale, unnatural white, and yet the feeling in them was familiar, belonging to the boy who’d hated seeing her cry, as he told her simply, “I just thought about you.”
Cupping his cheeks, Makino shook her head, although wasn’t sure exactly what she was refuting, if it was the transformation or the fact that he’d plucked her out of free-falling to her death from a crumbling city. And she almost forgot then, where they were, and what had just happened, and nearly laughed at the sheer absurdity of it all, her grin trembling over her mouth, and saw where it prompted his own, lifting his cheeks and the little scar under his eye, and might have worried for the state of sanity when what she felt wasn’t terror but bright, reckless joy.
“Oho.”
Her eyes widened, as Luffy looked up sharply, and turning found Blackbeard standing by the cliff side. “What do we have here?”
He was looking at Luffy, a light in his eyes now that hadn’t been there before, even when he’d stat astride the Empty Throne. If every other part of him hadn't defied the feeling, she might have called it an almost childlike awe, as, “It is, isn’t it?” Blackbeard breathed. “All this time, it was right under my nose.”
She started when Luffy moved to put himself in front of her, although from the look on Blackbeard’s face, Makino thought she might as well not have been present.
His grin spread, splitting his face in a wild, delighted grin. “And to think,” he laughed, first a chuckle, before it deepened, his eyes filled with a hunger that terrified her more than anything she'd found within the walls of the Holy Land, “that I came here for an entirely different power.”
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f1ameheir · 2 months
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there was no moment of pondering , no putting it up to a vote.      when called upon by those who hailed from the lands of snow capped peaks and stary vast skies , aelin held no reserve in calling in that of  her most trusted to her side to venture to a world only she had once witnessed.      it was a debt she owed to the man who wrote to her.      the winged man who had slowed her that day just enough for her to return back home.      the conversation with the others not only of her court but lands vast beyond to the south had not been easy.     to ask for their help and walk into war yet again after the months of rebuilding finally began to slow after the victory of their own.      but after explaining in grand detail of falling through the worlds , emphasizing on the one in which lead her home , soon after agreement sounded through the meeting room.      and not a moment after aelin with rowan alongside her blood sworn , the king of adarlan , the two women in which aelin credited their victory against the valg to with their husbands beside them moved forth.      traveling through a gate that the queen had spent a good while in learning to craft and open with the old scrolls from orynth’s long past. 
she had expected   —   well aelin wasn’t sure what she’d expected    ––   when they stepped to the otherside.      the sun had long set over the towering peaks and yet the city before them glowed from the starlight above.      it was a sight that took lorcan clearing his throat to pull aelin from her trance and send them trekking forth into the city itself that held her in such awe.
whispers were the first sounds to fill their ears as they passed by the citizens of this place.      who could blame them ?      aelin was aware of how they appeared to the unknowing eye.      a mixture of fae and human , scented by places not of this world , with powers among them that had defied the gods themselves.      even offering soft smiles did little to stop the wary eyes.      thankfully the feeling of being out of place did not linger as a woman who appeared around her own age came into their path.      her beauty was remarkable and by which she looked at aelin , at those behind her , it was that reason the queen knew the woman before her was the one she had witnessed beside the man that night atop the balcony.      only , not as round.      ❛   hello ,   ❜    her voice that of civility as she took in the other.      ❛   i am   —   we are here to see rhysand.   ❜
@starseternelle get's a semi plotted starter !
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jelzorz · 2 years
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127.
Rayla's back on her feet again, like, a day after their second child is born, and Callum doesn't think that's surprising at all because she's always been stubborn, but he does think it's ridiculous in the most amazing, incredible way. She reviews the guard with Soren like she didn't just birth a halfling, and plays with Sarai like she's not still bleeding considerably, and attends Ezran's council meetings like there isn't a baby strapped to her chest, and yeah, Callum's always loved and admired her, but this?
This is an entirely new level of love and admiration, and Callum is still wrapping his head around the idea that she grew both his children in her body. There's always something new with her, some incredible, impossible thing that she looks right in the eye and then just does anyway, and she handles it all with such grace that Callum sometimes has a hard time just keeping up.
It's been what, two weeks now? She'd insisted on getting straight back to work because, admittedly, there's a fair bit of work to be done in order to keep their hard earned peace. Sarai is with Barius today, learning how to make jelly tarts while they're trapped in this meeting but Wynn, obviously, can't join her just yet, because she's a newborn baby and she currently lives in the sling on Rayla's chest. Rayla's managing fine, of course—she's rubbing her daughter's back absently and bouncing a little on the spot to keep her settled while Ez negotiates trade routes with a visiting dignitary. Lord Palimore is old, portly, and not so fond of the idea of allowing elves free travel through his land, but he keeps looking at Rayla like she shouldn't be there. Callum's about to snap at him for it, but Ez gets there first.
"Is there a problem, Lord Palimore?"
Palimore flushes, sneering at Rayla but directing his response at Ezran. "Forgive me, Your Majesty, it's just unbecoming for a woman so recently given birth to be at a meeting such as this. Perhaps it's different for elves, but human women generally wait until their children are weaned before returning to work."
Ezran frowns. Callum starts forward. Rayla catches him in the chest, something dangerous flashing in her eyes.
"Unbecoming in what way, My Lord?" she asks coldly.
Palimore shifts, uncertain and suddenly far less confident. "For—forgive me, My Lady, but should your child need to feed—"
"She will," says Rayla. "And you will be respectful of that by allowing her to do so without comment."
Palimore wrinkles his nose, presumably trying to find a way to sound diplomatic. "My Lady, it's not appropriate—"
"To what? Feed my child?" Rayla snorts at him. "For one, she's asleep, and you're causing more of an interruption than she is. For another, if you have a problem with the concept of a nursing child, the door's over there. I am an elven ambassador attending a meeting that requires an elven perspective. I'm not leaving just because you feel uncomfortable."
Palimore makes a face and turns to Ezran, affronted. "Your Majesty, surely you wouldn't allow—"
"I would," says Ez shortly. "Rayla's an ambassador in her own right. Her perspective in this matter is important and she doesn't need my permission to feed her baby. If you have a problem with that, you can go."
"Do you have a problem with that, My Lord?" Rayla eyes him over the table, patient, professional, stony as the gravel in the bailey—something she must have picked up from Opeli over the years. There's an invitation in her gaze: defy her, provoke her—if he dares.
Palimore ducks his head. "No, My Lady."
"Good."
The meeting continues. Rayla goes back to bouncing gently on the spot. Wynn sighs happily in her sleep.
Callum hides a chuckle and finds himself filled with awe and admiration for his wife all the more.
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House Speaker Nancy Pelosi said Thursday that she will not seek a leadership position in the new Congress, making way for a new generation to steer the party after Democrats lost control of the House to Republicans in the midterm elections.
Pelosi announced in a spirited speech on the House floor that she will step aside after leading Democrats for nearly 20 years and in the aftermath of the brutal attack on her husband, Paul, last month in their San Francisco home.
The California Democrat, who rose to become the nation’s only woman to wield the speaker’s gavel, said she would remain in Congress as the representative from San Francisco, a position she has held for 35 years, when the new Congress convenes in January.
“I will not seek reelection to Democratic leadership in the next Congress,” she said. “For me, the hour has come for a new generation to lead the Democratic caucus that I so deeply respect.”
Now, she said, “we must move boldly into the future.”
Pelosi received a standing ovation after her remarks, and lawmakers and guests one by one went up to offer her hugs, many taking selfies of a moment in history. President Joe Biden spoke with Pelosi in the morning and congratulated her on her historic tenure as Speaker of the House.
“History will note she is the most consequential Speaker of the House of Representatives in our history,” Biden said in a statement, noting her ability to win unity from her caucus and her “absolute dignity.”
It’s an unusual choice for a party leader to stay on after withdrawing from congressional leadership but Pelosi has long defied convention in pursuing power in Washington.
During her remarks, Pelosi recapped her career, from seeing the Capitol the first time as a young girl with her father — a former congressman and mayor — to serving as Speaker alongside U.S. presidents and doing “the people’s work.”
“Every day I am in awe of the majestic miracle that is American democracy,” she said.
Democrats cheered Pelosi as she arrived in the chamber at noon. On short notice, lawmakers filled the House, at least on the Democratic side, and Senate Majority Leader Chuck Schumer joined. He later joined a throng of lawmakers and hugged and kissed Pelosi on the cheek.
The Speaker’s Gallery filled with Pelosi staff and guest. Some Republicans, including some newly elected members, also attended, though House Republican Leader Kevin McCarthy, who’s seeking the speakership in the new Congress, did not.
Earlier, Pelosi noted in a statement after The Associated Press called control of the chamber that, in the next Congress, House Democrats will have “strong leverage over a scant Republican majority.”
Pelosi was twice elected to the speakership and has led Democrats through consequential moments, including passage of the Affordable Care Act with President Barack Obama and the impeachments of President Donald Trump.
Her decision Thursday paves the way for House Democratic leadership elections next month when Democrats reorganize as the minority party for the new Congress.
Pelosi’s leadership team, with Majority Leader Steny Hoyer of Maryland and Democratic Whip James Clyburn of South Carolina, has long moved as a triumvirate. All now in their 80s, the three House Democratic leaders have faced restless colleagues eager for them to step aside and allow a new generation to take charge.
Hoyer said after Pelosi’s remarks that “it is the time for a new generation of leaders” and that he will also step down from leadership but stay in Congress. Clyburn, the highest-ranking Black American in Congress, has said he expects to stay in Congress next year and hopes to remain at the leadership table.
Democratic Reps. Hakeem Jeffries of New York, Katherine Clark of Massachusetts and Pete Aguilar of California have similarly moved as a trio, all working toward becoming the next generation of leaders. Jeffries could make history if he enters the race to become the nation’s first Black speaker of the House.
After Pelosi spoke, Clyburn released a statement saying he looks forward “to doing whatever I can to assist our new generation of Democratic Leaders, which I hope to be Hakeem Jeffries, Katherine Clark and Pete Aguilar.”
One idea circulating on Capitol Hill was that Pelosi and the others could emerge as emeritus leaders as they pass the baton to new Democrats.
First elected in 1987, Pelosi has been a pivotal figure in American politics, long ridiculed by Republicans as a San Francisco liberal while steadily rising as a skilled legislator and fundraising powerhouse. Her own Democratic colleagues have intermittently appreciated but also feared her powerful brand of leadership.
Pelosi first became speaker in 2007, saying she had cracked the “marble ceiling,” after Democrats swept to power in the 2006 midterm elections in a backlash to then-President George W. Bush and the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan.
When she was poised in 2018 to return as speaker, in the Trump era, she vowed “to show the power of the gavel.”
Pelosi has repeatedly withstood leadership challenges over the years and had suggested in 2018 she would serve four more years as leader. But she had not discussed those plans more recently.
Typically unsentimental, Pelosi let show a rare moment of emotion on the eve of the midterm elections as she held back tears discussing the grave assault on her husband of nearly 60 years.
Paul Pelosi suffered a fractured skull after an intruder broke into their home in the middle the night seeking the Democratic leader. The intruder’s question — “Where is Nancy?” — echoed the chants of the pro-Trump rioters at the Capitol on Jan. 6, 2021, as they hunted for Pelosi and tried to stop Congress from certifying Joe Biden’s election victory over Trump.
David DePape is being held without bail on attempted murder and other charges in what authorities said was a political attack. Police said DePape broke in and woke up Paul Pelosi, and the two struggled over a hammer before DePape struck the 82-year-old on the head.
Paul Pelosi was hospitalized for a week but is expected to recover, though his wife has said it will be a long haul. At the time, Pelosi would not discuss her political plans but would only disclose that the attack on her husband would affect her decision.
Historians have noted that other consequential political figures had careers later as rank-and-file members of Congress, including John Quincy Adams, the former president, who went on to serve for nearly 18 years in Congress.
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postguiltypleasures · 2 months
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My Peak TV Journey Girls5Eva
I meant to take notes for this, but didn’t as I watched it too quickly while preparing to move. I thought that the third season was great. If I have any complaints it’s that it was too short, and I wish they found more time to fit songs into it.
In the pre-release to the season, critics buzzed about how switching from Peacock to Netflix would boost the show’s profile and make people forget it ever started and was canceled anywhere else. It didn’t. As someone who really likes the show and wants more of it, that was disappointing. Contemporary musical comedy made for television may be a really small sub-genre for a reason. But I also developed a dark theory, which is that this cycle of revisiting pop musicians from approximately twenty years ago and condemning the way they were treated by the media really isn’t interested in dealing with the aftermath in contemporary life and that makes this show finding an audience harder. And while I do generally think that, I am unwilling to fight for it. It’s accusatory and un-provable. Also, it’s just based on my thought experiments. Based on more anecdotal experience, it might be that in the first episodes, the set up feels more sad than funny. This is similar to The Other Two, a show of I’d consider its cousin. Both can trace their roots to Saturday Night Live, both are show-biz satires about the not great effect of long term commercial failure on its main characters and an industry morphing at a rapid speed. I am a fan of both, but have to admit I can see why they’d be off putting for many viewers, especially in their early episodes.
Instead of speculating on why it didn't hit that big, I am going to praise what I liked about the series, showing my appreciation as long as I can. The season’s arc was about a failed attempt to do a small tour after the release but lack of promotional support of the album that they spent most of season two making. That season ended with a song they wrote about Fort Worth, Texas simply because it’s the largest American city that didn’t have a song about it. So their “tour” starts with an extended residency in Fort Worth, where they are adored, but not reaching their full potential. This is underlined symbolically by them staying at the Marriott Hotel’s Divorced Dad Suits. (They stay for free courtesy Gloria’s credit card points.) I love everything about the Divorced Dad Suites’ especially the vending machine of already wrapped birthday gifts. (Summer advising one of the divorced dads on what to purchase from it makes me smile to think of months later.)
When they finally leave Fort Worth they arrange a tour of small clubs, excited to meet with more of their under-served and dispersed fan base. Wiki also books them to play Radio City Music Hall on Thanksgiving Day, giving them the goal of trying to sell tickets there before the date. Only it turns out that the clubs they are touring are all owned by an ultra right wing family (represented by John Ealy as some one eager to force himself into meetings between pregnant people and their doctors, while otherwise being a miserable closet case) who demands approval of the content of their shows. When they defy this by performing their original song “BPE (Big Pussy Energy)” a “Footloose” is declared on them banning them from all their potential future gigs. The declaration of a “Footloose” also has me laughing months later. Awful as he was, I wanted more of John Ealy and his character.
Between being forced to cancel most of their tour and the season climax at Radio City, they visit Wiki’s parents in Maryland, take part in a private birthday for a rich wife, and befriend the biggest male pop singer of their time.
Summer gets involved with a multi-level marketing business to try and make more money while the band's tour is cancelled. while trying to develop a sense of self away from men and religion. She’s adorable. She also is deeply unsure of her taste and gets some validation in loving something literally everyone else thinks is a bad idea. Busy Philips has never been better.
Wiki’s parents turn who are affluent. All the talk about her “Hard Scrabble” up bringing was puns and misdirection. Her dad is buying a boat to retire on and enjoys crabbing. She has very successful sibling in medicine. She wondered if some of her failures in show business are because she’s too coddled at home. But we learn more about her DOA solo career, some of which demands scenes between her and Summer, a plot important rarity. It deepened the dynamics in the group in some interesting ways. Renee Elise Goldsberry is as always a treasure and its exciting to see her reach for new successes after previous failures to launch.
Dawn kind of feels like an afterthought in this season. This is probably because she’s not trying to write for most of the season. Instead her arc, such as it is, is about being pregnant while touring and finding herself in situations where she awkwardly struggles with how to talk about the conversation that sometimes fuel her songwriting. It’s kind of awkward and doesn’t really have a payoff, unless you count the song written near the end of the season. I do like a lot off this plot in theory. I like the acknowledgment that it’s sometimes harder to address things directly than through art. And that as much of the pernicious things we want to attribute to art are already well ingrained into the society that produced them. I just want more Sara Bareilles.
Finally it’s time to talk about Gloria. Her story involves being obsessed with true crime podcasts, a direct to streaming reality series called Critter Mouth about a veterinary dentist for wild animals, becoming friends with the worlds biggest male pop star of the moment while not recognizing him because of her indifference to men, and a quest to determine what I kind of woman she is most suited to by sleeping with all 179 types in existence. (She has a spreadsheet). Amazingly, all these plots come together in hilarious climaxes. Breaking women into different types in general is not funny, but the fact that the number of types is 179, and this is apparently well known is funny. Also it led to a very good Reel Paula Pell and her wife made.
The season had some good jokes about Netflix through it’s in universe version of the series and recognizable versions of Netflix hits. It makes me sad to think of Girls5Eva not thriving among them.
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A comprehensive compilation of why Severus Snape is an awful person that doesn’t deserve redemption, pity, or any kindness ever (not in any particular order):
- He is obsessed with the Marauders when they are younger, and tries to compare their antics to the actions of very real, blood supremacist, dark magic-using bullies that Snape was hanging out with and found amusing. (Edit: I’m adding that I’m not saying James and Sirius were right in their actions, I’m simply pointing that Snape wasn’t either. This post isn’t about the marauders, this is about Snape)
(DH, The Prince’s Tale, p673-674, Arthur A. Levine Books edition)
“‘They sneak out at night. There’s something weird about that Lupin. Where does he keep going?’ ‘He’s ill,’ said Lily. “They said he’s ill—’ “Every month at the full moon?’ said Snape. ‘I know your theory,’ said Lily and she sounded cold. ‘Why are you so obsessed with them anyway? Why do you care what they’re doing at night?’”
- Snape was very clearly trying to out Remus and actively trying to prove his case about knowing Remus was a werewolf. (More on this later)
-Calls Lily a mudblood, and then tries to excuse his actions. Then Lily says “...you call everyone of my birth Mudblood, Severus. Why should I be any different?” Snape says absolutely nothing to defend himself on this statement, so we can only assume that it is accurate and he commonly uses a slur to describe other students around him.
-We know Snape invented Levicorpus, which we later see James use. How do you think James learned it if not because Severus had used it on him or another student before? We even see Snape use Sectumsempra on James. Sectumsempra, aka the spell capable of cutting someone open and leaving them to bleed to death. This is the kind of experimentation Snape did with Dark Magic.
-Snape was willing to sacrifice the life of a BABY without a second thought until he discovered that the child was Lily’s. Even after this, he prioritizes Lily’s life and isn’t concerned whatsoever about the life of Harry, who at this time is less than a year old.
-If Voldemort had decided that Neville was the Chosen One instead of Harry, Severus Snape would still be a death eater. He didn’t think being a Death Eater was wrong in any way- it wasn’t until he was directly affected by a childhood crush did he reconsider. James and Lily Potter fought for the light because they believed in the light. Severus Snape fought against the dark because the dark had offended him. Had Voldemort gone after the Longbottoms instead, Snape would have lived and died as the most loyal Death Eater in history. Edit: I understand that we can say ‘if’ all day long. The point here I’m trying to make is that Severus Snape is only supporting the light side because it benefits him in this situation. I’m simply pointing out that he’s selfish by nature.
-The prophecy states that the child will be born to parents that have thrice defied the Dark Lord. So therefore Lily in some way defied Voldemort 3 other times. And only now Snape wants to save her? No. It has more to do with the guilt he’s feeling for telling Voldemort about the prophecy. It wasn’t her death that phased him as much as how he’d feel if he caused her death.
-Snape hates Harry simply for the fact that Harry looks like his father. Have you ever considered how Harry would’ve been treated if he’d been a girl that looked like Lily? Edit: I AM NOT INSINUATING ANYTHING PEDOPHILIC. I am making the point that when Harry come to school, Snape saw him and recognized his childhood bully, and instead of making the mature decision and not making judgments about Harry beforehand, he just assumes that Harry will be like his father was in school. If Harry had looked like Lily, Snape would’ve been more inclined to favor him the way he did Draco or Pansy. Not in a creepy way, just in a confirmation-bias kind of way.
-Severus snape once intended to publicly kill a student’s pet as punishment for getting a potion wrong. This pet was also a gift to Neville from his Uncle for getting into Hogwarts- something that his family didn’t think would happen because he wasn’t “magic enough”. So to him- Trevor is a reminder that he is a wizard and that his family is proud of him. Then Snape wants to kill him because Neville got a potion wrong, reinforcing the idea that Neville isn’t “magic enough”.
-When Snape covers for Lupin's class (told you we’d be back here), Snape taught the DADA class and made all the students write essays on how to kill werewolves so that Lupin would have to read these when he came back from going through an incredibly painful time.
-Snape did everything in his power to get Remus fired despite the fact that Remus had spent 16+ years pretty much homeless and without a job.
(OotP, Percy and Padfoot, p302, Arthur A Levine Books edition)
“‘I know she’s a nasty piece of work, though—you should hear Remus talk about her.’ ‘Does Lupin know her?’ asked Harry quickly, remembering Umbridge’s comments about dangerous half-breeds during her first lesson. ‘No,’ said Sirius, ‘but she drafted up a bit of anti-werewolf legislation two years ago that makes it almost impossible for him to get a job.’”
Edit: So let’s do some basic math here. This happens in Order of the Phoenix. The anti-werewolf legislation was written two years prior. This would’ve been during or around The Prisoner of Azkaban. Why would somebody randomly write a piece of legislation like this? Let’s just say that there was a teacher that was outed as a werewolf and people were not happy about it. That would give pretty good reason for someone to write a piece of legislation that would make it hard for a werewolf to get a job. Not just Remus. Every werewolf. Who outed Remus to the wizarding world at large? Severus Snape. So for anyone suggesting that what I wrote below is as good as fanfiction, maybe actually read the books and pay attention to smaller plot lines.
-When Snape tells everyone that Remus is a werewolf, he’s not just telling students or their parents. He’s telling the wizarding world. Because of this, Dolores Umbridge wrote a law that made it almost impossible for Remus to find a job. So not only did he ruin Remus’s life. He ruined the life of Every. Single. Werewolf. in the UK.
-Neville Longbottom’s greatest fear is Severus Snape. Not the woman who tortured his parents into insanity, not the worst wizard of all time, not even any of his other followers. His TEACHER. And this is at an age where Neville doesn’t know everything about Snape and all he’s done. That speaks VOLUMES.
-Condones and takes part in bullying a CHILD when Hermione had enormous teeth EXTENDING PAST HER CHIN growing because of a hex, Snape says, “I see no difference.” After this, Hermione permanently modifies her teeth.
(HBP, Snape Victorious, p160, Arthur A Levine Books edition)
“‘I was interested to see your Patronus.’ He shut the gates in her face with a loud clang and tapped the chains with his wand again, so that they slithered, clinking, back into place. ‘I think you were better off with the old one,’ said Snape, the malice in his voice unmistakable. ‘The new one looks weak.’”
-Mocks Tonks when her Patronus changed when she fell in love with Remus despite the fact that his changed to match Lily’s.
-“Snape took the page bearing Lily’s signature, and her love, and tucked it inside his robes. Then he ripped in two the photograph he was holding, so that he kept the part from which Lily laughed, throwing the portion showing James and Harry back on the floor, under the chest of drawers…” She was laughing at her husband and son. People she loved dearly enough to give up her life and Snape took that and cut them out of it so he could pretend she was laughing for him. Her love in the letter was for Sirius who was the best man at her wedding and her good friend in the order. Snape took that so he could pretend her love was for him. This isn’t romantic. It’s creepy. Snape feels entitled to Lily’s love even though he’s done nothing to deserve it.
-The ONLY reason Snape protects Harry is that he’s under an obligation to by Dumbledore (who is blackmailing him, so Snape doesn’t have a choice). Snape isn’t doing it because he wants to. He’s doing it because if he doesn’t, Dumbledore could sell him out to Voldemort and he’d be killed.
-Again, when he kills Dumbledore, it’s not out of the kindness of his heart or his care for Dumbledore. It’s because he’ll be killed or severely punished if he doesn’t.
-Snape may have done good things, but it isn’t because he wants to. It’s because he doesn’t have a choice.
Essentially, at his roots, Snape is a self-centered blood supremacist who bullies people and only does good things when being threatened and emotionally abuses children because he can’t get over somebody he was attracted to in middle school and is perfectly fine killing adults and infants alike when it’s in his best interest.
I’d like to say that much of this is heavily borrowed or inspired by other writers on this app. I have tagged every user I have access to. However, if you see anything you have written on here or anything please feel free to message me or leave a comment. :)
@sadgaywerewolf @mrsmarymorstan @jamespotterwearsglasses @lance-the-kanto-dragon-master @coffeeinanebula @warmhappycat @pleurocoelus @madamebomb @thefingerfuckingfemalefury @whoopsrobots @harrypotterconfessions @beekeepermarycatherine @honeybadgersdontgiveashit @tonksnymphadora @barricadeponine @jadedlights07 @dobbysclothes @hogwartsandrec @kago-make-dean-some-pie @prongsmydeer @girlswillbeboys11 @siriusblaque @upsettingthedementors @marauders4evr @maxxiegalaxy @ghost-of-bambi
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kookieminsuga · 2 years
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The Wolf and his Coyote / Jeon Jungkook
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Hello!
You can call me Tyacee, i will be writing fics on this account and i really hope you enjoy them!
Tbh, this one comes from a dream i had and it was actually Yoongi and not JK. However, i am a strong JK bias and therefore am writing it with him. I will be writing more about the other members and Astro members in the future!
Summary; Jungkook is the leader of the biggest biker gang in Korea. He is never interested in people unless they can benefit him in some way. That is until he runs into a girl who is the only person who appears to not be afraid of him. New to Korea, Amalia is an artist who spends most of her days working on her comics at her friend Minhyuks diner who also happens to be Jungkooks favourite hang out spot. What will happen when Jungkooks, a man who's heart seems to be frozen in ice, interest is peeked for the first time since he can remember?
Pairing: Gang leader jk x Tsundere, artist Amalia
Rating: 18+ do not interact if you are a minor!
Genre: Biker gang bts, action, romance, there will be some smutty scenes, violence, humour.
Warnings: potential triggers, blood, violence, criminals, gangs, fights, unrequited love, each chapter will have individual warnings.
word count: 1,371 (future parts will be longer, this is mostly just an intro)
Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4
She was always sitting in that same booth. Every day of the week at the same time with her tablet just drawing away. She was very quiet and so he never noticed her even tho him and his gang were regulars at the diner just like she was. The first time she caught his eye was when some thug decided to come onto his turf and try to assault the staff at his favourite diner. He was on his feet ready to step in but then he saw this girl get up from her booth and start whacking the low life with her backpack, which appeared to be filled to brim and heavy. Before he could even do anything, the guy was grabbed by the staff and thrown out. The vermin who thought it was acceptable to pull this little stunt on his turf, was left with a busted lip and a black eye thanks to the woman with the bag and this made him laugh. Who exactly was he tho? The guy standing next to his booth on the opposite end of the small diner. The guy who was staring at the girl in awe after what he had just witnessed.
He walked up to the girl who seemed like the bravest woman he had ever met. She was also very cute and different. She was a foreigner with her long brown hair, big brown eyes covered by glasses and pale white skin. She also had several tattoos on her arm which he liked, as well as a cute nose ring. People stared as he approached her, mouths dropping open as he never approached people without cause and usually, those causes were negative. They all seemed terrified of what would happen to the girl but she just looked up at him with a raised eyebrow and a look that defied his aura of power. 
“That was very brave of you what you just did. You could have gotten seriously hurt you know?” He said to her with his signature smirk.
“what’s it to you?” She responded before starting to gather her stuff.
Her response baffled him for a moment before he regained his composure. People always had the same response to him. Either they looked petrified and would back away, or they would do anything to get a piece of him. He knew why, with his shoulder length jet black hair, his many piercings including a lip and eyebrow, and his arm adorned in tattoos, his chiselled jaw and dark eyes, he was incredibly handsome but also very intimidating. 
“well I wouldn’t want a pretty girl like you getting hurt on my turf if you know what I mean.” Taking a step closer to her.
“your turf? Who even are you?” She looked at him confused while taking a step back. 
Who was he? That was the question. Jeon Jungkook. That was his name. He was the leader of the biggest biker gang in South Korea, called the Bangtan Group. Although he was the youngest of the big 7, he was also the strongest and most intelligent which led him to being in charge fairly quick.
“You don’t know who I am?” He asked, taking a step closer again. Her question surprised him. Everyone around knew who he was. 
“Ah Mr. Jeon, pardon my friend, she’s new in town and doesn’t really know about the area much. Please excuse her.” Minhyuk, the owner of the diner, stepped up between them and said to Jungkook with a deep bow.
Usually if anyone would have stepped between him and someone he was interested in they would be on the floor before they could finish their sentence, however Minhyuk was not only the owner of his favourite diner but also someone he respected greatly as well as a family friend. He looked at him and then at the girl and gave her another smirk.
“My name is Jeon Jungkook. You can call me Jungkook, consider that an honour.” He said before spinning on his heel and walking out of the diner followed by the rest of his crew. 
The last thing he heard before exiting was a muffled “as if” from the girl. This made him smile. He wasn’t used to people not being afraid of him. This girl was…. refreshing.
He got on his bike and waited for his crew. His second in command, Min Yoongi, arriving by his side first. 
“Do you know her?” He asked.
Jungkook thought about the question for a moment before smiling to himself and revving his engine. 
“Not yet, but I will.” He replied and drove off, followed by his 6 friends. 
As the guys exited the diner, Minhyuk turned quickly to look at the girl.
“Lia, you can’t just talk to him like that!” He said sounding worried. 
“why not? He just looks like some kid who thinks he owns the place to me.” She replied, looking out the window at the motorcycles speeding away.
“Thing is, he kind of does. Actually he owns everything and everyone. That was the leader of Bangtan Group.” Minhyuk replied while rubbing his temples which had started to throb with an oncoming headache.
“Ok so? I’m not scared of him. He’s just a person like all of us, he’s not above anybody just cuz he’s the leader of some gang.” She rolled her eyes with the statement.
“Its not just some gang Amalia! Its Bangtan Group! The biggest gang in the country! You very much should be scared of him.” He said sounding exasperated. 
At this, Lia just shrugged. She wasn’t going to let herself be intimidated by this bully. She didn’t leave everything, and everyone, behind and move to a whole new country across the world just to be bullied at her only friends diner. That was not her style.
“Anyways, I’m going to head out. I have a deadline and there’s too much going on over here for me to concentrate on my work. Are you ok?” She said looking him up and down.
This made Minhyuk laugh. He met Amalia while he was travelling abroad. The trip was originally supposed to be 2 weeks long until he found an art school that pulled his attention. He decided to leave Korea for 3 years and live abroad. Lia was in his year and most of his classes. She was always quiet and never really spoke to anyone but for some reason he wanted to talk to her as soon as he saw her on the first day. One day he worked up the courage to sit beside her in class and to his surprise she showed him a smile when he did. From there, they started talking and he realized that she was just a very shy person but once she opened up she was very loud and had a surprising attitude to her that he liked very much. She was also the kindest and most loyal person he had ever met which made him want to stay by her side. They became friends very quickly and the day he had to come back to Korea had been a very sad one. However they stayed in touch and over the past year Lia had made plans to move here for reasons she still hasn’t shared with him. Whatever those reasons were, he was over the moon at being reunited with his friend. 
“Yeah I’m fine thanks to you and your backpack. What even is in there? It broke his face pretty bad!” He asked.
“Oh you know, just some books. Hardcover.’ She said with a wink ‘Anyways I’ll head out now if you’re fine. See you later!” She gathered her things and waved to him before heading out to catch her bus. 
He watched her go and wondered how someone could be so brave. When the low life attacked him, not even his male coworkers came to help but this girl had the courage to stand up against him. Thats what made her shine in his eyes. He knew tho, that when she looked at him it was not in the same way he did her. His heart throbbed before he sighed and got back to work.
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blzzrdstryr · 3 years
Text
A silent plea
Yandere!Kujou Sara x gn!reader
Wordcount:1366
CW:Yandere themes, death and torture mention
Kujou Sara knows her place. It’s always beneath and at Raiden Shogun’s beck and call. Some may think it's humiliating, to dedicate so much time and energy for the tyrant, yet Sara disagrees - Baal may be a cruel goddess, but she is a goddess nonetheless, meant to be praised and obeyed and Sara is nothing but a devoted worshipper, willing to commit any atrocity if it will please her archon.
She doesn't indulge in it, preferring to endure the cruelty of her own hands and telling herself that it is needed for Baal's eternity. All who resist and defy have deserved their fates, no matter how grim and bitter they are. How many rebels did she strike herself? Electro archon’s heart holds no mercy nor pity for her enemies, so Sara’s shouldn’t either. And it did, for a time, allowing Kujou Sara to fight and torture and interrogate, all in the name of her Goddess, until she met you.
It happened on the battlefield. Sara was aiming at someone, all her attention consumed by the distant figure and the tension of the bow in her hands as she heard a rustle of the leaves and then sensed a blade pressing down her jugular.
“Order your men to retreat”, you demanded, adding a bit more pressure. She couldn’t see it but felt a small trail of blood trickling down her neck and staining the clothes. It was an awful and dangerous situation to be in and for the first time in months she experienced fear so clearly and brightly.
“I don’t comply with the requests of traitors”, she kicked you, focusing the electro energy around her body. It was enough to give her time and protect Sara from your weapon, leaving just a shallow cut on her neck.
You gasped then, from pain and shock, eyes wide as you grasped the injured hand, and dropped the weapon. And then it was Sara’s turn to get surprised - you didn’t flee and she couldn’t see your vision. Were you that stupid or desperate? Did you really think that you could defeat her in a fair fight?
Sara took a stance, preparing for a quick victory, which it wasn’t. She had to claw it out, deflecting your blows and kicks - you were like a wild animal back then, feral and forceful, seemingly just a step away from lunging at Sara and biting a chunk of her flesh out. But unlike the beast, you were smart and tricky too, throwing small metal trinkets to redirect her lightning, leaping at her only when you were sure she wouldn't attack. If it wasn’t for her approaching men who knows for how long you would drag out this battle, using lowly tricks and stunts to make up for your obvious disadvantage.
You fled then, pulling out a smoke bomb to create a distraction, and something inside her changed. At first Sara thought it was respect, keeping her up at night and making her return to the place of your “fight”, replaying your moves in her memory again and again. Respect for your resourcefulness and loyalty to your cause, despite the opposite allegiance.
Nevertheless, the dreams, wet and messy and too dishonourable to be said out loud, made her change her perspective - she didn’t respect you, no, she wanted to be at your mercy again, to feel herself helpless and powerless as your figure looms over her vulnerable form.
Those were sick perverted fantasies, not to mention traitorous too. As the loyal servant of Raiden Shogun she couldn’t allow herself to fall victim to the animal urges and sinful lust. Who knows, what if her arrow falters and blade dulls because of the same craving and shameful desire? How can she allow herself to live further after such failure?
That’s why her efforts in capturing and neutralizing rebel camps doubled, despite the slowly rising wave of hesitation inside her.
The early morning greets Kujou Sara with the cold breeze of grey waves and the news she has both dreaded and anticipated. Her men finally located and captured the small insurgent group, hiding among the lush forests of Kannazuka, roughly dragging the rebels back to the Kujou encampment.
“Bring them here”, Sara says to one of the troops after she exits her apartment, her battle regalia already on. The soldier bows and quickly hurries to the furthermost nondescript building - a makeshift cell for all prisoners before they’re sent to the capital.
Sara trails his figure, feeling how her own heart thumps, head aching from the sudden tension and anxiety and she doesn’t know whether she wants to see your face or not. “A moment of truth”, she whispers to herself as one painfully long second is replaced by the other.
Turns out, you are in that group too, as the mentioned soldier leads you out with the other prisoners, your hands tightly cuffed by a long chain. Kujou squints as she looks over all of you, your frame being her main focus. You are tired and dirty, she notes, but also defiant and full of fight, just like that fateful day.
Sara orders her men to lead you to the interrogation room, and put the rest in the cells, she accompanies the soldier, eyeing your form as he tugs on your chains - you don't want to go, it's obvious, but in the end fatigue and simple weakness win and your legs buckle.
You have new bruises, she notes, purple-bluish they stand out in a stark angry contrast against your skin. Maybe her men got handsy, maybe they weren’t careful with transporting you enough - no matter the reason she needs to punish them.
“Out”, Sara says, once you’re tied and secured in one place, defiant eyes burning right through her. The soldier quickly bows before exiting the room and leaving Sara with you alone, and that’s when she feels it again - the wave of longing and carnal desire so strong that she yearns to touch your body no matter how dirty and battered it is.
“Why am I here?”, you ask, voice low and scratchy after days of complete silence, snatching Sara from her thoughts, and by the archons the sound of your voice is enough to awaken something in her, pink dusting her cheeks.
"You don't have a vision", she says instead of answering you, feeling how her heart speeds up from those words alone:"but you still defied Raiden Shogun's eternity and you will be punished accordingly"
A crooked smile makes it to your face, resignation mixing with pure hatred boiling in your eyes. Sara wants to shiver and turn away, hide from your gaze, yet she endures it, not a single muscle betraying her.
"You will be tortured regardless of you knowing anything about resistance plans", you don’t stop smiling, yet your expression grows even more tense. Like a deadman, Sara thinks to herself - she had seen it of course, the face, the resignation, and she doesn’t like it. The mere idea of you suffering and screaming under someone else's hands enough to make her taste a sour bile on her tongue.
"Then why are you telling me all of this?", you raise one brow.
"There’s a way to avoid that. Aid me in my service to Raiden Shogun and your crimes will be forgiven". Sara leans closer to you, her golden eyes transfixed on your face. "Please agree", she wants to say: "It's for your own good".
“I don’t comply with the requests of traitors”, you spit back at her and she jerks away, remembering your bestial nature. If only you were more obedient Sara would worship you like a second deity, her love and devotion to you surpassed only by the reverence she holds towards Baal. She would dress you in silks and kiss every spot on your body, ripping out the most pleasurable and desperate moans out of your lips. She would fall on the knees before you, patiently awaiting your command.
But she can’t - deep down you’re an animal, feral and ungrateful and rabid beasts deserve nothing but death.
“I will come back tomorrow and ask you again. I suggest you take back your words”.
Kujou Sara knows her place. She wishes you knew yours.
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leiawritesstories · 2 years
Text
As I Am, 20
Summary: London, England, 1816, early spring. The opening of the Season is every year’s most anticipated event in high society, especially among the young ladies. This Season has been predicted to be one of the most promising yet, given that the debutantes include Miss Aelin Ashryver Galathynius, Misses Nesta, Elain, and Feyre Archeron, Miss Elisa Selvari, Miss Elide Lochan, and many more. Not to mention that His Grace Rowan Whitethorn, the newly ascended Duke of Doranelle, shall be in town with his companions. Where shall the Season lead? We have yet to find out, but as with all Seasons, there will be parties, promenades, dancing and dining, a profusion of flowers in each young lady’s parlour, and of course, scandal.
STORY WARNINGS: language, arranged marriages and other 19th-century problems, eventual fighting, eventual smut
Inspired quite a lot by Bridgerton and Pride and Prejudice. Unknown chapter count. Characters are from Throne of Glass and ACOTAR, as well as various other characters from various other authors. I’ll credit them as they appear, and if anyone is unfamiliar, please go check out their books!
CHARACTER LIST           MASTERLIST
Word count: 2.4k
Warnings: language, depictions of labor, mentions of Regency-era misogyny
A/N: this is a Nesta-centric chapter, so if you’re reading this story for another couple, this doesn’t add a whole lot to that couple. There is a TL;DR included at the end of the chapter so that if you aren’t the biggest Nesta fan but don’t want to miss a chapter you can read the summary. Or if you want to see badass Nesta defying societal norms and being a doctor in training, read on!
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Two weeks after Elisa Selvari eloped, that event sunk into the past, as Society has moved to newer gossip, involving which of the young ladies are now engaged and who has worn the same dress more then once and other such trivial things. 
Nesta sat at the breakfast table, reading over the papers and finishing her tea. Cerridwen poked her head into the room. “Miss?”
“Yes, Cerri?”
“Letter for you.” Cerridwen entered, dropped off a small, sealed envelope, and headed out.
“Thank you, Cerri!” Nesta called, slitting open the envelope and withdrawing a single sheet of paper. It was from Yrene.
Nesta,
One of my patients is days or less away from giving birth, and I would like you to attend. I am occupied with another expecting mother; she’s birthing twins and her labor is going very slowly. However, I cannot leave her, so I am asking that you call upon Mrs. Wilson. Do not be nervous, Nesta, you are completely ready for your first solo call, and I have complete faith in your capability. Mrs. Wilson has three children already, and so she will probably boss you around more than you boss her. I have included her address here. Just remember to breathe, and I’m confident everything will go smoothly.
Yours,
Yrene
Nesta read the address, folded up the note, and tucked it into her sleeve. She hurried upstairs to change into a simple blouse and skirt and boots, grabbing her medical bag from its hiding place beneath her bed. Throwing her cloak on, she returned downstairs, choosing to walk down the servants’ stairs rather than the main ones so as to avoid any of her dear, but very nosy, family. She slipped quietly out the back of the house and went to the stable, where she saddled up her horse, walking it out into the courtyard. She swung up and tapped the reins gently, nudging her horse into motion. 
She kept her head down as she rode through her neighborhood, not wanting anyone to recognize her and think up some awful new bit of gossip. Within a short time, she was through the part of town where Society kept its business, so she was able to straighten up and nudge her heels into the horse’s flank, upping its pace.
It didn’t take her very long to reach the section of town where the address Yrene had given her was located. Pulling the note out of her sleeve, Nesta directed her horse down the neatly cobbled streets, carefully watching for the right turns to make. Presently, she had arrived at the house. She dismounted, tied her horse to the hitching-post in front of the neat row of houses, walked up the steps of the right house, and knocked briskly on the green front door.
Footsteps pattered towards the door from inside the house. A little girl, probably no more than eight years old, opened the door and looked up at Nesta, her mouth a perfect little O.
“Are you here for my mama?” she inquired. “My mama said the lady would be here soon.”
“Yes, I am here for your mama,” Nesta replied, wiping her boots on the mat. “Can you take me to where she is?”
The girl nodded, closing and locking the front door. She went over to the stairs but stopped on the first step. “Mama’s been crying,” she all but whisper-sobbed, fear in her brown eyes. “I never seen Mama cry before.”
Nesta switched her bag to her other hand and knelt down so she was eye-level with the little girl. “Mama is going to be perfectly fine. Do you trust me?”
She nodded. “Why is Mama crying?”
“Mama is going to have your new little brother or sister,” Nesta explained, “and it hurts for a while, but she’ll be all better soon.”
“You promise?”
“I promise.” Nesta reached out her hand. “Can you take me to see her?”
So the little girl led her up the stairs and down the hallway to the main bedroom, where a very pregnant woman in her late twenties or early thirties squatted on the edge of a chair while a man of about the same age and a kind-faced older lady, who must have been the housekeeper, held her hands and wiped the sweat off her forehead.
Nesta rapped on the door. “You must be Mrs. Wilson. I am Nesta, and I am here to see your little one safely into the world.”
The older woman hurried over. “Thank you so much for coming, Nesta. I’m Helen, the housekeeper, and I confess I’m a little out of my depth here.”
Nesta smiled. “You seem to have been helping her so far. If you wouldn’t mind, I need plenty of hot water, clean towels, a large, shallow dish, and a couple of teacups.”
“Of course.” Helen hurried off. 
Mrs. Wilson breathed shakily, the contractions having passed for the moment. “Yrene?” she inquired, her voice hoarse. She noticed her daughter still in the doorway and tilted her head at her husband, who murmured a promise to be right back and went off with the little girl. 
“Yrene is attending another birth, I’m afraid,” Nesta explained. “I’m her partner of sorts.”
“I see. Well, you must call me Katy, as we are to get quite intimate,” she joked.
Nesta chuckled. “How many children do you have, Katy?”
“Three.”
“So that is why this room seems well-prepared for labor.”
“Indeed.” Katy’s face contorted with the force of another contraction. Nesta grabbed her hand, her free hand pressing deeply into the small of the other woman’s back. “This…is not my first time,” she panted.
“You’re doing wonderfully,” Nesta encouraged, releasing her hand as the contraction passed. “Will you let me give you a tea to help with the pain?”
“That’d be lovely,” Katy groaned, wiping strands of hair off her face.
True to his word, her husband returned to the room, taking up his place at his wife’s side, keeping her company and providing a hand to squeeze as the contractions washed over her. 
Some hours later, as Katy’s contractions became barely a minute apart, Nesta and Aaron--Katy’s husband--shifted Katy so she was lying on her back on the bed, her legs propped up along the end of the bedframe, hips flush with the end of the mattress. 
After thoroughly washing her hands, Nesta checked on Katy’s progress. “Right,” she announced, her nurse voice in full use, “I shall need you to start pushing. Ready?”
“Ready,” Katy grunted, breathing deeply. 
Aaron’s face had gone paler at the mention of pushing, but he remained, grasping his wife’s hand as she yelled through her first push.
“Excellent!” Nesta called, encouraging. “Can you give me another?”
Katy did, groaning and grunting. 
Aaron blanched, clamping a hand over his mouth, dared to look down at his wife, and fainted dead away.
Katy giggled through her labor pains. “Does…that…every…damn…time,” she panted.
Helen quickly moved Aaron to another room and returned to grip Katy’s hand. 
“Push!” Nesta commanded, able now to see the top of the baby’s head. “Push, Katy!”
With a mighty yell, Katy pushed, and her child slid out into Nesta’s waiting hands. Quick as a flash, she cleared out the baby’s nose and mouth, and he let loose a hearty wail.
“Congratulations!” Nesta announced. “You have a son!” She gently settled the baby boy, his tiny self wrapped in towels, into his mother’s arms, and finished the delivery as Katy cried and cooed at her newborn son.
Finished, Nesta took the baby once more, checking his health and washing his little body clean in warm water, then whipped a diaper onto him and wrapped him in blankets. She placed him back in Katy’s arms, and the mother cradled her little boy, helping him to latch. Satisfied with the baby’s nursing, Nesta helped Katy out of her soiled shift and into clean, dry garments, bundling up all the used towels and sheets and letting Helen take the bundle down to be laundered.
“Do you think Aaron’s awake?” Katy asked, her voice hoarse from the labor. 
“I shall check on him.” Nesta went down the hall and found Aaron in the nursery with the children, two girls and a boy, and tapped on the doorframe to get their attention. 
“Yes?” Aaron was immediately on his feet.
“You have a healthy son,” Nesta grinned.
A huge, elated smile split his face. “Children, you have a baby brother!” he declared. “Will you stay here for a little bit longer? Father will come get you when it’s time for you to meet the baby.” He was out of the nursery in a flash, all but sprinting down to see his wife and newborn son.
Nesta chuckled, following. There was nothing better than the reactions of a family to finding out they had been blessed with a new baby, no there was not. 
~
Nighttime had crept up without Nesta noticing, so absorbed had she been in delivering Katy Wilson’s baby boy, and so she stayed and had dinner at Katy and Aaron’s request before fastening her cloak and taking her leave, promising to return to check up on mother and child. The family waved at her as she left, the kids giddy from the day and overtired because they’d stayed up far too late to sneak glances at their baby brother.
Given the darkness, Nesta decided to walk her horse through the neighborhoods until she reached the part of town where the streets were wider and better-lit. She kept up a brisk pace, not wanting to be seen sneaking home as if she’d been out doing something illicit.
As she reached the main streets of town and was about to mount her horse, a shocked gasp from beside her made her whirl about, ready to punch whoever--“Cassian?”
“Nesta?!”
“The hell are you doing out so late?” He was utterly stunned to see her.
“Going home,” she hedged, dodging the question.
“Obviously,” he snorted. “Where were you?”
“I had business.” She kept her answers vague, not wanting to give anything away.
“This business wouldn’t happen to have anything to do with all your meetings with Yrene, would it?” Cassian raised a dark brow.
Shit, Nesta grumbled internally. “It might.”
“Y’know, Nesta, you can trust me not to reveal your secret pursuits.”
She sighed, grumbling an oath. “Yes, it does. Yrene has been training me as a midwife.”
“So…”
“So I was attending a call.”
He processed what she’d just told him, the pieces clicking into place. “You just delivered a baby?”
“I did. A healthy baby boy.” She couldn’t keep the faint hint of pride out of her voice.
“Gods fucking damn, Nes, that’s absolutely wonderful!”
“If only the rest of Society thought so,” she grumbled. 
“What?”
“Oh, you were unaware that women are not allowed to engage in such unseemly practices as medicine?” she drawled, sarcastic. “Well, we ladies are much too delicate to do anything more strenuous than playing the pianoforte, singing, reading certain kinds of materials, embroidery, and hosting grand parties, not to mention sitting in a chair and looking pretty for the guests.” She rolled her eyes. “As if we are little more than dolls.”
Cassian said nothing.
“So naturally, I chose to quietly pursue my own passions on my own time,” Nesta continued. “Yrene is not a fine lady from a fine family like I am, and so she can freely practice her midwifery. I, on the other hand, must meet with her covertly, must learn behind closed doors, lets any of my fellow fine ladies see and spread the terrible tale of Nesta Archeron actually learning a worthwhile skill.”
“You never cease to impress me, Nesta Archeron,” Cassian whistled. 
“Stop flirting.”
“I am only telling the truth.”
“Well, don’t. You know as well as I do that I cannot be allowed to practice medicine, not in the light of day.”
“Which is bullshit.”
“Bullshit it may be, but it is, Cassian, and I must deal with it. Single or married, I cannot be all I want to be. I am doomed to be suppressed, only doing what I want to do at night, in secret.”
“I would never try to suppress you, Nes,” he swore, earnest. 
She stared at him for a long, silent moment. “I believe you, Cass. That’s why I have told you all of this.” Sighing, she turned to swing up onto her horse, her cloak swishing aside to reveal a glimpse of her medical bag.
Cassian gasped sharply, his jaw dropping. 
“What?” Nesta inquired, one foot halfway in a stirrup.
“That,” he breathed, “that’s an army nurse kit, Nesta.”
She glanced down at her bag. “It is, yes. It’s a fairly common medical kit, Cass.” He was speechless, mind reeling with the implications of how Nesta could possibly have gotten an army nurse kit. “Cass, shit, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean for you to see it and trigger any war memories, I--”
“You went to war.” 
“Huh?”
“You. Went. To. War.” he repeated, incredulous. Nesta’s spine stiffened, her lips tightened, her whole body going tense at the memories Cassian’s words inadvertently brought up. “Fuck,” he swore, “I didn’t--I--Nes?”
“Yes,” she gritted out, voice tight.
“Yes?”
“Yes, I went to the war.” Her steel-blue eyes shuttered, those memories actively being repressed. “I don’t like to discuss it, but yes.”
Unexpectedly, his warm, broad hand reached gently out and rested atop hers. “I swear I shall never mention any hint of it ever again, if you wish,” he promised. 
Nesta clasped his hand, relaxing a bit. “Thank you, Cass.” She heaved a deep breath. “But you guessed it, so I shall tell you the abridged version. Do you recall that shortly before you enlisted, I want off to finishing school in Bath?”
“Quite well, as I was smitten with you that summer and thought my heart irreparably broken when you left.”
She snorted. “Not much has changed, then. Anyway. That was a lie, an alibi. I went off to the Bath region to join a small unit of female nurses. We trained together and went overseas together, splitting into trios when we received out unit assignments. I spent two years there, tending to sick and injured and dying soldiers, and here I am now, tending to an almost equivalent battlefield--mothers in labor.”
His eyes were wide, reflecting his utter awe. For a moment, he was lost for words. Nesta squeezed his hand once more and swung up onto her horse. 
“Good night, Cassian.”
“Marry me, Nesta,” he blurted.
She froze. “What the hell?”
“I--um--good night, Nesta,” Cassian spluttered, flushing crimson. 
She smothered a giggle at his discomfort. “I shall see you later, Cass.” And she rode off.
“I wasn’t joking,” Cassian muttered, knowing she couldn’t hear him. “Not even a little bit.”
~~~
TL;DR: Nesta, who as mentioned in earlier chapters is studying medicine, is called by Yrene to deliver a baby. She does so successfully, this being her first time delivering a baby on her own, and is heading home when she runs into Cassian, who is shooketh when he realizes that Nesta is practicing medicine and even more so when he figures out she was a nurse in the Army. And then he blurts out “Marry me” and she thinks it’s a joke but perhaps....perhaps it wasn’t.
~~~~~~~
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