#annotating this caused me to look back at so many scenes i will never be over | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

rose-tinted-juls · 1 year ago

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i know you said tooth rotting fluff at the warnings but either i'm stupid and don't take things seriously (very possible) or i like to pretend fluff doesn't affect me bc i kept on reading, not prepared at all for what's coming. the squealing, the throwing my phone across my room (literally), the tear filled eyes, the biting my cheeks so hard they started bleeding bc i didn't want to actually scream. this was the fluffiest fluff i have ever read, and the best of them all. OMG i loved every second of reading this no matter the pain it caused me knowing it's not me and will never be me.

1. "it hits her like a ton of bricks, her anxiety skyrocketing as the elevator ascends, her stomach left behind on the ground level." why do i love this line SO MUCH, it's so good even if it's just a simple sentence

2. charles wanting to follow her back on insta but he can't IT'S SUCH A COOL TINY DETAIL OMG i love the tiny details you always put in your writing. things that are not so important plotwise but add that extra perfection to the story and make it just that tad bit more real in a way. thank you.

3. when charles said "hello, christyn" i swear i read it in his voice. i could hear his voice say that in my head and it was so weird but also the sentences you give him always make so much sense to who he is in my eyes, like i can totally imagine him saying the words you give him and in the way he says them. phenomenal writing!!

4. "that's why it came out in french" and "i said i want to kiss you" I'M SCREAMING

5. talking about tiny details, when charles leans against her palms just before their first kiss... THAT. THAT RIGHT THERE. honestly i just ADORE your writing skills.

6. "...and her voice sounds like smiles look." okay but who gave you the right to be so poetic now for real, mack 😭 this is a line i would circle a few times with a pen and add exclamation marks and little hand drawn hearts if it was a book i was annotating.

7. THEIR FIRST KISS. that whole scene really. the way charles thinks about how knowing this waits for him on the other side makes every flight and annoyance of flying worth it. <33 + "christ elliot. you are something." AHHH

8. that paragraph which is about arthur not being so good in english and charles correcting him, but chris not daring to, YOU'RE SO REAL FOR THAT ILY

9. chris not noticing charles is just joking when he mentions the size of luggage she came with AND then charles kissing away the pout on her face AND her saying "i like when you do that" AND him thinking "good. get used to it." this was the part when i threw my phone across the room.

10. chris holding a finger up to stop charles when she's reading and hurriedly finishing the page. SO RELATABLE, SO REAL, SO PERFECT. (and charles just laughing and having a stupid smile on his face as he continues watching her AWHHH)

11. when charles doesn't remember the word for heirloom. AGAIN, TINY DETAIL, SO IMPORTANT TO MAKE IT MORE REAL. how are you so talented mack??

12. "too busy kissing the girl" EXCUSE ME MR. LECLERC

anyway. this chapter made me squeal many times like i'm eleven or something and having a first crush or whatever. it's been a long time since i felt this way (and a long time since i felt so single and lonely lmao) so thank you mack from the bottom of my heart. it's a pleasure to be living in the same timeline as you do. <33

miss americana & the heartbreak prince

—03. i think i fell in love today —word count: 7.5k —warnings: despicable tooth rotting clawing my eyes out eating the stuffing in my pillows fluff. truly its horrendous. lets talk about it. —love, mackie... i'm sleeping hopefully. right now I am hammocking. the ice cream truck just drove past. I love June.

After Paris, Chris was a bit apprehensive when it came to her ability to navigate the airport in Abu Dhabi with any sort of efficiency. Especially not now, where she needs to go through customs and register for a visitor’s visa and find her luggage and get her money exchanged. Pleasantly, though, she’s surprised at the ease she works through her notes app checklist. It’s within the hour that she’s climbing into the backseat of a taxi and heading to the hotel.

She spends the entirety of the twenty-something minute drive doing a deep dive on Joris’ Instagram. He’s going to be waiting for you, Charles had told her the night they’d worked it all out. How he knew his friend would be free is beyond Chris, but that's not even the bigger issue at hand. The issue is, of course, that she’s had no more than a momentary interaction with Joris in the background of a FaceTime call two weeks ago. The thought of breezing past him in the hotel lobby is a mortifying one.

It’s quarter after seven by the time she gets there, and when she catches a glance of herself in a mirror on the wall and almost bursts into laughter. Someone could tell her that she fell down the stairs in Austin and hit her head and is in a coma and it would feel more believable than her life right now. This just… this doesn’t happen to her; five star hotels in foreign countries and heavy accents and guys who call her beautiful from the other side of the globe.

She spots Joris in an armchair on his phone at the other end of the lobby. She approaches nervously, and he stirs from his phone at her sudden proximity. “Hi,” Chris greets, sounds almost apologetic for interrupting him. “Joris, right?”

“Uh, yeah,” he nods, dragging out the vowel sounds when he glances back down at his screen. Chris wonders if he knows he’s waiting for her.

She smiles. “I’m Chris.”

“Right!” He snaps his fingers, shoves his phone into his pocket. “Chris.” He stands and opens his arms to hug her like they’re old friends. It’s a move straight from her book, one that she’s pulled on dozens of people before. It’s not one that she’s met with often. Chris thinks they’ll get on well, her and Joris. That’s a good thing, right? Friendly friends.

Chris’ mom had told her more than once that the quickest way to know someone’s character is through their friends. Only a maniac is rude to animals and elderly and children, she’d said a million times over, it’s the character of the people they choose to spend time with that matters. Joris has no idea Chris is silently observing his every action, picking them apart on a human level.

On the elevator ride up, Joris fills Chris in on everything that’s happened during the free practices that day, tells her that it’s been a relatively clean couple of sessions. You do know of the risk this weekend, yes? P2 or P3, he asks and answers his own question. Chris nods. If she didn’t know, she does now. The room is on the fifth floor, she notes, staring at the glowing five button as she picks at her cuticles. It hits her like a ton of bricks, her anxiety skyrocketing as the elevator ascends, her stomach left behind on the ground level.

This whole thing is crazy, and not the quirky, silly story you tell your friends about over a vodka cran crazy. Just plain crazy. Insane. Off the wall absurd. Why, why are they sharing a room? Why is she even here? What is it about her that can’t be found somewhere, anywhere, else? And the most prudent question, the one ringing in her ears louder with each passing moment; what is it about him?

Chris has never considered herself to be logical, not in the slightest, but she does like to maintain the idea that she’s well grounded. She might not always act in a way that makes the most sense, but she always makes those choices within the bounds of her reality.

And, because her nerves permeate off her like a thirteen-year-old’s B.O, Joris takes a stab at cooling her down. “How was your planes?”

“Good. Smooth.” she nods, forces a smile. Her weight shifts from heel to heel, thumbs looped through her backpack straps. The floor is a shiny black marble with white and gold veins, one that commands your attention. Chris pulls her eyes from it to look at him anyway. Nervous and insane or not, she wants to make a good impression. “I could do without navigating the airport in Paris ever again, though.”

“Oh,” he laughs. “It never gets easier.”

“Does any of it?” She offers up a laugh, but it’s as genuine as the smile her face held before.

He opens his mouth to speak but is cut off with the ding of the doors opening. There, in the hallway with more marble floors and a wallpaper that walks the line between elegant and gaudy, a couple stands on a white carpet runner. The man has on a Mercedes cap. Chris wonders if they know a Formula One driver is staying on their floor.

The four of them sidestep awkwardly around each other with polite smiles to the floor, and before she knows it Joris is holding a keycard over the lock on a heavy door and handing the piece of plastic to her.

It’s not a room. It’s a suite. There’s a living room and a kitchenette and a whole separate bedroom to this place. It’s expensive, wildly so, she’s sure.

She wheels her suitcase into the bedroom, leaves it in the corner by an armchair with her backpack. At the bottom of the bag is her purse, which she digs out while Joris is using the bathroom, moving things around from one bag to the other.

The drive to the circuit is twenty minutes, at least, and Joris talks the whole time, mostly about how nervous he is and how hard he’s trying to make sure Charles doesn’t notice. Chris doesn’t tell him that Charles is also beyond nervous about the whole thing–or that he knows good and well everyone around him is losing their minds. It doesn’t seem like the type of thing that would make Joris feel any better.

“Pascale and Enzo, you know them, yes? Charles’ Mum and brother?” Joris questions.

“Nope,” Chris shakes her head. “Not yet.”

Oh, he doesn’t say. “You’ll like them if you like Charles,” he laughs. “You do like Charles?”

Chris bites down on a smile, a laugh leaving her nose in an exhale. “I do.”

“Good, good.” He nods. “Anyway, they are not here tonight, they already have gone back to the hotel. Arthur is there, still. Do you know him?”

“I think it’s going to be easier for both of us if you just assume I don’t know anyone.”

“Ah, okay. Will do.”

Chris wonders what Charles has said about her to Joris, to Arthur, to anyone. All of the stories he has or hasn’t told them about. She has almost exclusively not talked about him back home. Not because she doesn’t want to, she just can’t figure out how to say anything without sounding like a reality television star. Maybe he’s the same way. There’s a real chance that nobody in his family even knows that she’s coming, and maybe that’s the way she’d like it to be.

Her reunion with Charles couldn’t be more different than their first meeting. The paddock is empty with exception of team crews and straggling media members. There isn’t a Bud Light in sight and the pass hanging around her neck has a picture of her on the back. He must’ve pulled it from her Instagram, the one that he keeps talking about wanting to follow back. A picture of her and CHRISTYN ELLIOTT - FULL WEEKEND written in bold letters.

“He’s probably at the briefing,” Joris explains, checking his watch and walking one stride for every two of Chris’. She tries her hardest to keep up with him as he expertly navigates the paddock, all while trying to memorize his moves so she doesn’t end up stranded sometime this weekend.

A whistle gets their attention, cutting sharply through the hot desert air. Her and Joris both snap their heads around to find the perpetrator of the summons. Charles pats Pierre’s shoulder and jogs ahead of the group of drivers, all already engaged in their own conversations and heading off into different directions.

He has such a carefree smile on his face, jogging over with happy eyes and wiggling brows and a stupid little wink that puts a smile on her face. “Hello, Christyn,” he quips, greets her with open arms. And then, once his arms are pulling her to him so tight she can’t take a full breath, when he has so much energy to give her he can’t help but rock on the sides of his feet, he whispers just for her, “Hi,” a soft kiss on the crown of her head, “I’m so glad you’re here.”

All she can think about is how warm he is. Warm, and smells so nice. She doesn’t know how she’s going to ever go home. Not when he’s so warm.

“How was the planes?” He asks, an arm comfortable slotting around her as they resume their walk to wherever it is she’s being led.

“Uh, I’m tired, but.” She smiles. At him. Right there where she can touch him. Where he is touching her. “I’m here, so. I’m happy.”

On the walk back to hospitality, she asks him how his day’s gone. He’s sure she already knows, that Joris talked her ear off the entire drive over or that she’d checked the media reports of the practice sessions, but it’s nice to pretend she doesn’t know. He tries to summarize everything as concise as he can, because even though he loves talking to her, he’d much rather listen. He can listen to her talk until the sun burns out.

He’s not surprised to notice that Joris has peeled off from them, especially not because he didn’t even realize he wasn’t trailing behind him and Chris until he held open the door to his driver’s room and Joris was nowhere to be found.

He can’t count the amount of texts he’s had to have sent Chris from his driver’s room. How badly he wanted to just be talking with her, and now she’s here. She’s here, she’s here, she’s here with him.

He moves around the room, cleaning and reorganizing his things for a fresh start in the morning. Casually, he mentions that he has a sponsorship obligation tonight, last race and all, and that Arthur and Joris are coming along. He doesn’t speak it so offhandedly because he’d forgotten, but because he didn’t want her to get freaked out by the idea of it. He explains that she’s welcome to tag along, or, if she’d feel more comfortable, she can stay here while Andrea packs up his things.

She’s leaning against the wall just next to the doorway, watching him. Without hesitation, she replies, “I’ll come with you.”

“Are you sure?” He asks, looking to her. “You don’t have to.”

She nods, looks at the ground or the couch or something that isn’t him, folds her hand to look at her nails and lets out an almost silent laugh. His stomach drops. “You sound like you don’t want me to go.”

“No, no.” He corrects, and she still doesn’t look at him. He waves for her attention, cocks his head to the side when he gets it, “No. That’s not. I just want you to do what you want to do.”

“I want to go.”

“Okay,” he smiles.

She crosses her arms over her chest, looks like she’s trying so hard not to smile at him. “You’re being weird, you know?”

He shrugs, because she’s right. “I told you I would be.”

“Well,” Chris sighs, moves across the room to the small couch in the corner, “why are you being weird?”

“Because.” I want to kiss you, he stops himself from saying. I’ve wanted to kiss you since I saw you twenty minutes ago, since you decided to come, since I met you, maybe.

“Because, why?” She laughs, and he’s suddenly struck with the thought of what her laughter might taste like. Sweet, surely, just like it sounds. Like a popsicle on a summer day.

His phone buzzes in his pocket and he tries his absolute hardest to wipe that thought from his brain before texting his brother back. “Je veux t'embrasser tout le temps,” I want to kiss you all the time, he mumbles, isn’t even sure it actually leaves his lips or if he keeps it locked in the vault. He continues to send his reply to Arthur.

“You know I don’t understand what you just said,” Chris reminds him. That’s why it came out in French, he thinks. Not everything is meant to be said.

“I said,” he pauses, sends the text, looks back at her. God. “I said I want to kiss you.”

She crosses one leg over the other, looks down at her pants like there is something in her lap to fix. He can see the blush on the tips of her ears, even though she’s trying to hide her cheeks. When she does look up, face still flushed, she tucks her bangs behind her ears and replies softly, “you’re allowed to kiss me, Charles.”

He can’t believe he hasn’t yet. That he’d hugged the life out of her, kissed her hair and told her how happy he is she’s there, that he’d thought about kissing her for weeks, that he didn’t fucking kiss the girl yet. They’re sharing a bedroom tonight, and he still hasn’t kissed her. He thought about it, he did. But they’d promised to keep things as quiet as they could. Now, he’s pretty sure she wouldn’t have stopped him from throwing all those conversations out the window.

If there wasn’t something weird in the air before, there certainly is now. A new weird. A good weird. An implication of something in the air, weird. It’s out there now, ust hanging above them. I want to kiss you. You can kiss me. Now all that’s left is for one of them to make the move.

It’s the least he can do–make the first move. She flew across the globe, he can fucking kiss her. He wants to fucking kiss her. He feels like a little kid, the giddy smile that pulls on the corners of his lips when he walks over to her. He does little to conceal his intent.

“What?” She asks with a smile on her face. A tease, she has to know.

He holds out his hands, palms forward to her and she follows his lead, reaches up to lace their fingers together. “I like you, you know?” He asks, leans his weight against her hands. Some hands are just meant to be held.

She giggles like a child, pure and innocent and like nothing bad has ever happened to her. Like the childhood dog and all four grandparents are still kicking. “I can’t hold you up.”

“What?” He quirks a brow, leans more weight onto her hands and she laughs harder, her arms shaking below him.

“Charles!”

“I said I like you, Chris!”

Through weak arms and uncontrollable belly laughs, she manages to choke out in gulps for air, “I like you, too.” In a swift movement, he recenters his weight on his own feet, pulling Chris up from the couch. The force of his pull almost knocks her from her feet, both of them still laughing, fingers dancing with the others on either side of their frames. The laughter is light and airy and barely there, but it’s laughter nonetheless. When their hands do fall apart, their pinkies stay looped together without force, without any pull at all, just comfortably slotted against the other. “I really like you,” she adds, and her voice sounds like smiles look.

She blushes under her own words, over the entirety of their private moment, eyes darting from eyes to lips and back to eyes. “Yeah?” He asks quietly, like he’s scared asking might change her answer. She nods, biting down on the smile that paints her bottom lip, and it’s more than enough for him. She’s so good. She’s too good not to kiss.

He moves a hand to her jaw, thumbs her cheek with fingers slotted behind her ear, dancing along her hairline like a whisper of what’s to come. Like a promise. In the absence of his hand, hers finds his chest, just his thin Ferrari shirt separating her palm from the butterflies stirring wildly in his chest. “Me, too,” he says softly. Softer than she did, more to her lips, soft a pretty and his favorite shade of pink, than to her eyes. And then, either so softly only the atoms hear it, or maybe in his head entirely, “very much.”

And then he kisses her.

She tastes like mint chapstick and biscoff cookies and coffee. Her lips are soft, softer than they looked, softer than her voice. It’s like a boost of energy, kissing her. Like an immediate and complete charge.

She tightens her grip on his other pinky. Tightens it, loosens it, re-intertwines the whole hand somewhere off in the distance, far, far away from where he wishes to stay forever. This alone is worth a flight anywhere. Altitude sickness and limbs falling asleep and jet lag and headaches from screaming babies are all poor inhabitants when this would be waiting for him on the other side.

He pulls his hand from hers because it's just not close enough. Nothing is going to be close enough, but he’ll try his damndest to cup her jaw and pull her deeper into the kiss. Their noses bump awkwardly and they pull apart in a breathless laugh. Nothing more than a quick, shared smile and he’s kissing it off her face, hugging on her bottom lip with his teeth and letting her hum mumbles into his mouth. Teeth clacking and more laughing, so breathless it’s practically silent.

“Chris Elliott,” he says all sing-songy, just because he knows it’ll make her laugh. A quick peck, because he can. “You are something.”

“Charles Leclerc,” she mimics, wide eyes and raised brows and a beaming smile. A quick peck, because he’s never going to stop her. “Something good?”

He hums. “Something great.”

“You’re silly,” she says, and he laughs.

“Silly?” She nods. “You’re cute.” Chris rolls her eyes, but still has that child’s smile on her face and a pink flush to her cheeks. He kisses her again, quick, because he has a month to make up for.

“I know,” she retorts, deadpan. He laughs louder than any sane man should.

Joris, Arthur, and Andrea file into the room a few minutes later. Chris is leaning against the wall again, scrolling through her phone. She clicks it off when they walk in, shoves it deep into her purse pocket.

Andrea’s eyes bounce from Chris to Charles, and then back to Chris, holding out a hand for her to shake. “Andrea,” he greets, formal and cool.

“Chris,” she smiles, shakes the outstretched hand.

“Nice to meet you.”

“Yeah,” she nods. “You too.”

First bad impression. She doesn’t know what it is she did, but with the simple half-minute observation of his interactions with her versus the rest of the people in the room, it’s obvious he’s already soured on her.

Arthur, though, Arthur is almost off putting in his resemblance to Charles. Same voice, same face, certainly same bloodline. She thinks she could recognize him anywhere, probably. He, however, on his phone, doesn’t even notice Chris’ presence in the room until Joris elbows him on the sofa.

“Quoi?!” He exclaims in a defensive tone that transcends language barriers. The kind that only brothers know how to use.

“Hi,” Chris says, and Arthur’s head shoots from Joris to her in the doorway. He almost laughs, he’s so surprised by her presence. “I’m Chris,” she adds, holding out a hand only because he's sitting and she’s standing and a hug doesn’t feel logistically sound.

“Ah, Chris,” Arthur nods, shakes her hand. “Charles does not answer my phone calls because of you.”

“Oh,” she offers a weak smile. “I’m sorry about that.”

“No, no. I do not want to hear from him.”

Chris laughs. From the other side of the room, Charles chimes in, “then why are you calling me?”

Arthur rolls his eyes. “Maman say, ‘do you call Charles’ and I say ‘yes he does not answer me.’”

- - -

They run into Carlos and co. on the way to the sponsorship event. Chris tries to hang back towards the end of the group, back with Joris and Arthur and away from Charles, purely out of self preservation. They’d agreed in passing that everything would be much easier, hundreds of times simpler, if nobody knew Chris was there this weekend, if everything was kept under the radar. Charles, however, seems to have forgotten that agreement because, no matter how engaged he gets into a conversation, he is constantly looking for her in the group, reaching his hand out to her if she’s within distance to do so, keeping her as close to him as he can.

She keeps falling back though, falling into ranks. She doesn’t want to look like a girlfriend, because she isn’t.

Chris has no idea how to be a public… girl? A fling or a girlfriend or anything in between. She’s at home at a race track, yes, and during Chase’s championship winning season, she got stopped three times to take pictures with fans, but, really. Nobody has ever cared about what she’s doing or who she’s doing it with.

Walking in behind Carlos and Charles is like walking in behind celebrities. Everyone wants to shake their hands, to pat them on the shoulders and tell them this thing or another. There’s lots of languages being thrown around that she doesn’t recognize, accents she struggles to understand.

“This is crazy,” she says quietly, just to herself.

Arthur nudges her with his elbow to steal her attention, furrows his brows for a moment and holds up a quizzical thumbs up. Chris nods, smiles gratefully.

Charles promised that it was going to be nothing more than a quick stop at the event, and he meant it. They aren’t even there long enough to sit down. Instead they hang out in the back of the tent near the bar, watching Charles and Carlos talk on stage with several different people about how important this brand is for us.

They decide to go out to dinner after, despite Chris’ burning desire to go to sleep for a couple years. They get sat at a booth that’s probably made to hold no more than four people; Andrea and Joris on one side, Charles sandwiched between Chris and Arthur on either side. He finds her hand under the table, his thumb tracing along the lines of her fingers. Chris, against all urges to rest her head on his shoulder, rests it instead on the wooden divider between their booth and the neighboring one.

Arthur is the only one who struggles to speak English rather than his mother tongue, and while Charles corrects him each time, Chris doesn’t dare. She’d rather die than imply someone speaking in a second language needs to improve the way they speak it.

“Are you going to be with us all weekend?” Arthur asks around Charles’ frame.

“I’m actually going to be in the grandstands,” she smiles. Charles rolls his eyes.

“Oh?” Arthur asks, looks to his brother, but Joris beats him to the punch.

“You couldn’t get her a pass for the whole weekend?” Joris chirps. Andrea laughs and Charles reaches for the pass hung around her neck. She didn’t even realize she was the only person still wearing it until now. Charles flips the pass over, points out the FULL WEEKEND on the back.

“Her choice, not mine.”

She reaches to take the pass out of his hand, to pull it off over her head and put it into her purse. “I’m hoping for a drama-free weekend,” she says, and the boys laugh. Charles’ hand finds her thigh, gives it a little pat and a comfortable squeeze.

Her hands are meant to be held, they really are. He could hold her hand until the moment she leaves, fingers locked together as they walk through the hotel corridor, empty and echoey with their voices and the sound of their feet on the carpet runner.

Once in the room, face to face together with the single bed in the room, they both burst into laughter. He’s glad he cleaned things up before she got here, because the room was starting to look a little like his driver’s room–clothes strewn about messily, plastic water bottles on the end table, a television remote he lost the night he got here and hadn’t found until this morning. In the corner, Chris’ luggage sits beside the armchair, backpack neatly stacked with a single suitcase.

“Did you bring your whole wardrobe?” He jokes, and maybe it’s because he’s never been great at conveying jokes in English, or maybe it’s that they’re both absolutely exhausted, but the joke doesn't land. She’s immediately apologizing, spewing out a jumbled apology about I didn’t know what I was supposed to wear, and then– “I’m messing with you,” he says, and hates that she thinks he’d be that worked up over a suitcase, especially when he’d brought at least double what she had. She could have shown up with twenty suitcases and he still wouldn’t have thought it was too much because, well, she’s here. Right in front of him.

“Oh,” she pouts, and he kisses the look off her face. He’s wanted to do that since he saw it for the first time. “Oh. I like when you do that.” Good, he thinks. Get used to it.

They both make plans to shower; her before him. He’s on the couch in the living area of the suite when she re-emerges from the bathroom, the TV rolling and absentmindedly scrolling through his phone. When the sliding door to the bathroom opens, he looks up to watch her.

Her hair long down her back, carefully combed out so that the soaking ends turn the fabric of her sun-worn blue t-shirt a darker shade. It’s big on her–the shirt–hangs almost long enough that you wouldn’t be able to spot the flannel shorts underneath. He can still hear the sink running in the bathroom and she’s got a toothbrush in her mouth.

He whistles when she walks back from the bedroom towards the bathroom again, and she stops in the doorway, laughs around the toothbrush and does a sweet spin. “Bellissimo,” he says, gestures a chef’s kiss and she bows dramatically.

After his shower, he finds her in the bedroom, comfortably perched against the headboard, tucked under the crisp white duvet. The only light in the place is coming from her end table lamp, casting a soft shadow on her face, her knees pulled up close while she turns the pages of a book. He hovers around his suitcase watching her, completely in her own world, the only hint of her presence on this plane being the subtle lean into the light to better illuminate the pages she turns.

It’s not the first time he’s found himself looking at her like this. She’s easy to get lost in and almost never notices him staring. She just gets so focused on the task at hand–grading papers, cooking a meal, painting her nails, watching a television show, or like tonight, reading her current library rental.

“Do you want a water?” He asks. Her eyes don’t leave the page, a subtle shake of the head before she finally mumbles a no, thank you. He navigates the dark suite to the kitchenette, finds himself a plastic water bottle in the mini-fridge, and then he’s pulling back the comforter to climb into bed with her. “So, I was thinking tomorrow–” he starts, but she cuts him off with a singular finger held in the air. He can’t help but laugh, stupid smile on his face while he watches her eyes hurriedly finish the page, dog ear the tiniest fold onto the corner.

“Sorry,” she unapologetically offers, setting the book down on the end table. “What were you saying?”

“Uh, I don’t remember,” he says, because he lost it while he tried to guess what she was reading based on the little microexpressions that crossed her face. His eyes fall to the gold chain around her neck, to the small cross that lays over the blue fabric of her shirt. He’s noticed it dozens of times, it’s constant presence in every picture, every video, every call and outfit and event. He doesn’t even think when he reaches for it, examines it with gentle fingers. “Is this a, uh…” he struggles to find the word, “how do you say, family tradition?”

“Heirloom?”

He nods, drops the piece of jewelry back to its rightful spot. “Heirloom.”

“No, it was a birthday gift,” she explains, fingers the chain of it, “from my brother when I turned eighteen.”

He nods, points out the other necklace she’s wearing, a flower with a pearl in the center center. “And this?”

She laughs, “it’s silly,” she says. “It goes with these earrings I have, they’re from my parents when I graduated college.” He learns the flower is a chrysanthemum, that her dad has always called her Mum, that her mom has a particular affinity for pearls that she’s passed onto Chris, that all of these things have combined into this piece of jewelry hanging around her neck and that she cried and cried when they gifted it to her.

Because the sun is still burning, he doesn’t stop asking about the different pieces she wears until he’s run out of ones to point to. He learns the story of a ruby ring–her birthstone–that she found in a thrift store for seventy-five cents when she was fifteen, how it used to fit on her pointer finger but now it fits her ring finger, how sometimes she makes up elaborate stories of how it ended up in the bargain bin of a Goodwill in North Georgia.

She tells him about three friendship bracelets. The first and second are made by students, her favorite gifts. The third, blue and yellow–NAPA colors, her brother’s racing colors–made by her nephew. “He’s four, and he is everything annoying about my brother and everything good about my best friend, and I think I would kill someone for him.” Charles is sure that tomorrow he’ll be telling someone they wouldn’t believe the way she lights up when she talks about this kid.

When he’s run out of things to question, she’s examining the red string tied around his wrist. “What about you?” She asks, “what’s up with this guy?”

“My mate, Pierre. He learns about it from our other friend Yuki,” He explains. “They always know the strangest things, Pierre and Yuki,” he chuckles, continues to explain the traditional symbol of good luck. “I don’t know how well it works, though,” he laughs, and she kisses him. It surprises him, but he’s in no place to complain. Perhaps the bracelet works quite well, he thinks when she moves closer, snuggles under his arm while he continues.

Three metal bracelets. One red, one silver, one stainless steel. Morse code: Amour, Bonheur, Smile. A ring that matches the bracelet. Two hex rings that track his heart rate and his sleep and a million other things.

He spins the rings while he talks, pulls them off and hands one to her without missing a beat in his sentence. She toys with it while she listens, hands it back to him with a quiet yawn. When he kisses her hair, it’s still damp and smells like the shampoo she used, something he can’t place, something he hopes eventually to memorize. “You’re cute when you’re sleepy.”

“You told me that last week.”

“I know,” another kiss against the unfamiliar scent. “I meant it.”

Charles wants to order room service for breakfast. Chris shuts that idea down the minute it comes out of his mouth, furrowing her brows and making him attempt to rationalize waiting half an hour for food that’s five minutes away. He can’t, so they head to the lobby.

Chris is wearing the same shirt, pulls a pair of sweatpants over her flannel shorts and ties her hair into a messy, tangled ponytail. She’d keep it down, but her hair dried while she slept and it’s pointing in directions that defy gravity. A ponytail was the only option. Charles doesn’t change, keeps the t-shirt and shorts he slept in on.

They find Andrea in the lobby, eating at a table for two by himself. Charles pulls a chair over from a nearby table and they sit down with him. By the time Joris appears, the table is officially too full of food to comfortably function.

She hears his phone vibrate against the hard plastic of his chair, and he casually mentions that the rest of his family is on their way down.

Chris doesn’t react, not externally, anyways. She finishes what’s left in her mug, bee-lines it over to the coffee bar to make another. Absent-mindedly, she tears the foil from the creamer cups, rips open the sugar packets and stirs it all together. His mom. His mom. His mom. It’s all she can think about. His mother. The woman who gave him life. Chris knew she’d be meeting his mom this weekend, but she figured she’d have more preparation than a couple minutes warning, assumed she’d be dressed, hair styled, makeup done. That she’d be presenting herself as someone you’d be happy to have your son spend time with, not like a 7/11 customer in Dahlonega at one in the morning. Maybe Charles was right and room service was a good idea.

Even once she’s back at the table, every elevator ding makes her jump, shoots her head in the direction of the opening doors just terrified the people walking out are going to be his family.

“Are you good?” Charles asks after she flinches at the third elevator bell.

“Yup,” she lies, slaps a big, phony smile on her face and takes a sip of her coffee. His hand finds her leg, gives it a little you’ll be fine squeeze.

The next elevator is carrying his family. She instinctively straightens in her seat, moves things around the crowded table so her food looks neat and managed. Joris looks at her with concern, Charles laughs when she refolds a napkin. “Don’t laugh at me,” she whispers.

Out of earshot, Arthur says something through a stretch and a yawn. His mom rolls her eyes, pushes him in the direction of the coffee bar, mutters something to his other brother that makes him chuckle. When his mom spots Chris, she makes a bee-line for her with open arms. Chris practically trips over the leg of her chair trying to stand up before the hug reaches her.

“Come here, chérie,” she smiles. It’s warm, just like her boy’s. “I have heard so much about you.” Oh? Chris smiles, suddenly aware that she’s apparently horribly unprepared for this entire introduction. He’s telling his mother about her?

She hugs Pascale back and looks over her shoulder to Charles with wide eyes. She’s met with a matching expression, Charles shrugging and shaking his head as if to adamantly tell her he has no idea what his mom is talking about. “And what have you heard, Maman?” He asks with a laugh.

“Don’t start with me,” she says, wagging a finger at her boy, and then to Chris, “Ignore him.” She holds her at arm's length, hands on either shoulder and looks her up and down. Chris laughs, nervous but still noticeably genuine. “You are just beautiful, aren’t you?”

Well. Beautiful isn’t a word Chris would use to describe herself at this moment. Ratty, perhaps. Disheveled. Off-putting. But sure, beautiful is a word she might sometimes describe herself as. “Me?” She shakes her head, “ma’am, look at yourself.”

“Oh, please,” his mom scoffs. “Pascale.”

“Pascale.” Chris smiles, goes in for another hug.

Whether it’s because he’s a brother and not a mother, or because meeting said mother is done and over with, Chris is significantly less anxious when it comes to her introduction with Lorenzo.

Chris attempts to insist Pascale take her seat, but is out-insisted to finish her breakfast. Charles finds her hand under the table, winks at her when she interlocks her fingers with his.

– – –

Outside of their shared breakfast, Saturday is a long day apart for Chris and Charles. A quick kiss goodbye in their hotel room when Charles finishes getting ready, a quicker “good luck,” from Chris called after him on his way out the door, and a thumbs up over his head as a response summarizes their interactions for the rest of the day.

Chris works on next week’s lesson plans for a few hours, nothing better to do while she waits to leave for the track.

She watches the third practice session and quali from the grandstand across from the pitlane, and while neither are his greatest showing, Chris can feel it in her bones that everything is going to fall into place for him tomorrow. A third place start is more than good enough to beat out Perez at Red Bull. She knows it like she knows her own name, and nobody is going to tell her otherwise.

She goes back to the hotel after quali, doesn’t bother to attempt sneaking into the paddock to try and find him. It just doesn’t feel worth it–navigating a place she doesn’t know, avoiding the cameras and the reporters and the chaos–not when he’ll be coming back to the hotel, back to her.

She falls asleep moments after sitting down on the couch, and isn’t woken up until she doesn’t even know when. It’s the middle of the night, Charles tells her, guides her to bed and tucks her in like a child, complete with a kiss on the forehead.

- - -

The first words out of her mouth on Sunday morning are an apology.

When Charles tries to cut her off with a laugh and a kiss, she stops him just short of her lips, claiming morning breath. “Wow,” he feigns shock. “First you fall asleep on me, now you will not kiss me?”

She rolls her eyes, grabs the back of his neck and pulls him down to kiss her. “Happy?”

He nods and kisses her again. He keeps waiting for it to not feel so exciting, so much like a stupid movie, so young, and it’s yet to reach that point. It’s not even coming close. “Yes, thank you.”

From the other side of the bathroom wall she dares to ask him if he’s nervous, if the pressure is finally manifesting itself into stress. He’s quiet for a while.

“No,” he eventually calls back.

“No?”

He peels around the doorway, messing with the collar on his team shirt. “Yes,” he admits with a scale-breaking sigh. She wishes he was as sure as himself as she is, that he could feel in his bones it is all going to work out perfectly.

“Well, I’ll be here when you’re done, and we can either celebrate Charles Leclerc, Vice World Champion,” he turns away at the title, the side profile of a smile turning the corner back into the bathroom. “Or, we can celebrate the end of an exhausting season. Either way, we’re celebrating.” He stays quiet. “Okay?”

“Yeah,” he finally speaks, tone lackluster, unconfident. It’s hard to hear him like this, to hear the distinct shards of doubt that rattle in his chest. “We’re celebrating.”

We’re celebrating. Tonight is a celebration. The positives with the negatives, the good always outweighs the bad. She reminds herself like it’s a mantra. Tonight is a celebration.

- - -

Alone in the grandstands with an air of certainty about her, Chris’ bar for friendship has never been lower. She finds a group of girlfriends who appear to be sort-of, almost, kind-of, maybe in the same age demographic as she is. They speak English and don’t ignore her when she talks, and that’s enough for her to latch onto for the evening.

We like McLaren, they tell her, But those Ferrari boys–they’re cute. You can’t help but feel for them. Chris just smiles and nods, offers up a laugh and pretends she won’t be falling asleep next to one of those cute boys later tonight.

The girls–flew in from London on Friday just for this-fill her in on everything she already knows. They tell her about Charles and his fight for P2, about the strategic pitfalls of Ferrari and the fact that on paper, it was Charles’ year to win it all.

They’re more nervous during the race than Chris is, not to say that her leg isn’t bouncing watching the times constantly changing, that she isn’t whispering mumbles prayers into the air between here and there, just that she knows. She knows.

If it was possible to stare through a helmet, Chris would’ve done it during his pitstop, burning the confidence right into his frontal lobe. Her eyes are glued to his car, his helmet, distant and small and buzzing with energy. He’s got it under control, like a perfectly wrapped gift sat in his lap, like a row of monkey bars and hands hardened by months of blisters, like a first kiss and a second kiss and a third kiss. He’s got it under control.

He does, because after what feels simultaneously like the longest and shortest fifty-eight laps of her life, Chris practically has a front row seat to Charles doing donuts. She’s so happy that she thinks she might cry, not that it takes much of anything to pull a tear from her when she’s this exhausted. The girls she’d befriended jump and celebrate and cheer louder than the fireworks.

Chris tries to live the moment. To feel it all, the energy and the roar and the joy, which only makes it that much harder not to cry.

Suddenly, momentarily, irrationally emotionally, while she watches him celebrate with his family and his team in front of the whole world she wishes she was down there with him. Screw the world watching, she wants to hug him until her arms are numb and kiss him until she passes out.

There’s no telling when–or even if–she’s going to ever live through a moment like this again. It’s not one she wants to forget. In the chaos of it all, her hand finds her chest, the hard metal of her cross necklace through the fabric of her top, the pulsing of her heartbeat, loud and racing.

It’s hours before he’s back to the hotel, but it doesn’t feel late at all. He’s still running on adrenaline, just as ready to celebrate as he was when he jumped into his team’s arms. Over the mechanical shifting of the door lock, he can hear Chris’ feet echoing on the floor just on the other side and before he can even make it through the doorway she’s crashing into him. The pure energy that she is knocks him back a few steps, but then he’s hugging her back just as hard, maybe harder.

He can feel her tears soak through his shirt, and with a laugh asks if she’s crying.

“Shut up,” she says, and it only makes him laugh harder, hug tighter. God, the show he would have put on if he could’ve found her right after the race. The trouble he would make. “Oh, my god!” She sniffles, pulls her head off his chest and wipes away her tears. “Kiss me, already!”

And so he does. He kisses the shit out of her.

She pulls away with a smile, arms slinked around his neck like it belongs to her. “So, how does it feel?” She asks, “Vice World Champion, Charles Leclerc.”

He gives her a quick kiss, nothing more than a peck, shrugs, and repeats the action. “Too busy kissing the girl.”

“You’re such an idiot,” she laughs, drops her head so it’s against his chest and vibrates his entire being. It’s a laugh that lights stars, dances around the room like a windchime in the warm August air. The kind so distinct you could hear it across a room ten years later and still know it was her. “A walking cheeseball.”

“A cheeseball?” He humors.

“I said what I said.”

His satisfied hum says more than words ever could, fingers comfortable dancing along the bone of her hip. “We gotta get ready,” he says.

“For what?”

“The celebration.”

last chapter masterlist next chapter

#queen mack <3 #fic: ma&thp #juliana's fic rec #EVERYONE GO READ THIS!!!#my fave fanfic #f1 fic #my fanfic commentary #cl16 fic

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thecrenellations · 4 years ago

Photo

Return of the Thief Notes, Part Three: The Book of Pheris, Volume 2, Chapters 6-14 and “Alyta’s Missing Earring”

Notes from my first read, October 2020. (Part One | Part Two | TaT)

Contents: Elephants, guesses about gods and dead men, villain team up, the unexpected, AAAAAAH, elaboration on the word cloud above (which is one big Gen, medium Pheris, medium love, and scattered other names), and more quantitative analysis! I love this book.

Format: Page number. My thoughts (Context?)

Chapter 6

285. unkingly moment, last night with her at home

MISMATCHED STOCKINGS (I have a thing about this.)

Wedges of ribbons?

285. cute

286. a pitneen? A drunk bird?

Wait. Gift of animals??? Did he steal the thunderbolts wearing it?

A canary no longer

287. Hilarion and Ion, wow

Throw a cup of wine on me

288. War pants! War pants!

What’s Attolia wearing?

Sophos! (the whistling!)

288. Ok fine it’s gonna be sad ... I say as if I didn’t just experience the trial (the last lighthearted moment)

Pepper!

Be careful Pheris

Also Relius went to Dite and Juridius, right? (I was convinced Dite would show up)

Sinerine!

290. SOCKS! Yay <3 magus

I was resigned to not much magus but he is HERE!

He’s … so much nicer than he was to the kids in the Thief, lol

A CART!

Lamb, falling in same paragraph. Worried.

Gen :( Gen you ran all over the palace and leapt in the water last night. You are so stupid.

292. Yay Sophos I love you

Math buddies!

294. I’M SAD.

They have had this convo before

I love them

It’s because I can that I think I should

295. Do not overreach. Eddis is right

Danger in self indulgence?

I love her! “I was outside chasing your brother with a stick”

296. My heart. You have to trust yourself. I don’t know if I can. Then you have to trust us.

Tactical Irene!

Thanks I’m gonna hold on to it: “The Call of life is a s powerful as the call of death, and it is no weakness to answer to it”

297. Oh no. My children. Tell each other things like that!

Great time to be childish, Gen.

Yeah honestly. It’s bothered her FOREVER

299. Pull it together, kids!

Thx Helen

Inkpots … :( :( :(

Chapter 7

302. See … that Continent occupation isn’t good either!

303. Unfortunately that is NOT an alternative. Bc volcano.

305. This is stressful.

Chloe, interesting

306. Elephants

Oh my god it’s better than I ever could have imagined (there was like 10 years of lead up to the elephants, and I thoroughly enjoyed them)

I love him

Gen wtf

Yes drink up those guards (“We could keep [an elephant] in the guard’s bathhouse! There’s plenty of room.” “And the guards will bathe ...?” “In the palace reservoir.” “Our drinking water.”)

#6 Gen about elephants

308. This is gonna be a disaster

Hilarion with an eyeglass

Fuck Pheris is making this up.

Gen I love you

Oh my god

Honestly idk if Gen is having fun but I AM

They’re. They’re such a power couple.

Also Bu-seneth is so rude to Attolia

309. so vague about battle, but I’m sure it’s horrible

310. hero talk. Chills.

311. all the woman comparisons for Gen (“Would [a world with no war and no heroes be a bad thing?” “That’s a woman’s question”)

Wow. Interesting. Anonymity

312. Don’t listen to them Gen!

Bad tempered cooks

313. lol. Good looks.

Gen. the hand joke. Why

Well that was … a scene (I don’t know my Henry V)

Reassuring to have a glove. Which one?

314. No. Bad. This is what I was afraid of. (Nahuseresh baiting Gen with Kamet)

Ok Pheris

315. That cannot be true. (it was not!)

Gen. No. No.

316. Wow. That worked out well. So far.

They called him annux. If Kamet is really dead…

319. Yeah Attolia is RIGHT

Yeah I can’t actually either!

Irene knows. In his story!

320. Glove resolved very fast

Interesting reversal (Gen and his dad)

Maddening!

Chapter 8

322. who’s charging off in a haze of glory now

Philologos wounded

Wait, the attendants follow him in to battle...

Cleon RIP

Temenus <3

No. Stenides

If they ever returned.

His brother died in an explosion

Gen’s tears

This is sad.

323. lion lamb :(

325. At least they have each other

Morality is an illusion. Like safety?

326. that’s what Costis was mapping, right? (nope)

How many has Gen killed now

328. Who. Pol? Ambiades? (The cairn man question remains)

Oh no

Oh no. you can fall from a horse

HILARION!

Is Fordad a spy?

I am just not accepting this yet

WAIT THE MEDES TOOK HIM! (I thought the Attolians had taken Gen, or Gen’s body, at first.)

330. wow things only Pheris can do

GDI Erondites

WOW THIS IS A VILLAIN TEAM UP

332. You gave it to him dude (Nahuseresh asking “Why does he still have this?” about Gen’s hook)

I love Gen. I wonder if he’s afraid.

This is bad.

Whose treason, whose betrayal?

333. Yeah! Kamet said so (“Tell me again that you are king.” “Annux, if you prefer.”)

334. Oh god.

Get your stories straight bastards

Rolled in a rug!

336. Oh gen

Oh god

Yeah this is …

Be careful what you ask for

338. What did he sign as, though, Attolis? Eugenides?

Nomenus wtf

What does mwt have against facial hair (Fordad, Nahuseresh)

Costis please come (idk how I thought he was going to help, but I was in Costis Denial and expected him to show up at any moment)

Everyone must be going through a lot

A face like an open grave

Gen.

Gen I love you

YES

Is he … invulnerable now?

Gen what.

Is he possessed? Is he already a god?

341. Yeah same. (“I think he meant that I should not fear him, either. I did, though ... I still followed him”)

This isn’t being self indulgent or overreaching, is it?

342. RIP Ion Nomenus

“My work”

Oh Nomenus

Does he just exist for the morally gray and loyal angst feelings? It works (...)

344. What did he DO

Yes! Swearing Gen!

345. love all caps Gen

Those names

Aaah

346. Ooof.

Chapter 9

347. moon promises

Yeah

Noooo Philologos :(

Legarus … :(

349. Gen what what

Sparks

Costis? Stenides? STENIDES?

Wow ok he killed Bu-seneth

350. god

See I said Nahuseresh shouldn’t have said that

Also is Gen a bastard

351. WHAT (“Because your council had just voted to kill him”)

Oh Helen

Oh Irene

Does he invite him in?

This is reassuring to the reader (“He can bear his god a little while without losing himself”)

Aaaaah Galen

354. Gen that’s a lot. A lot.

Don’t kill everyone.

So so so x7 of doom

Bye Yorn

I hope he wins too

Go away Nahuseresh

Omg

another fall

Interregnum

Ok it was Lader (when you don’t know who the man at the cairn was, keep on guessing!)

Yeah the circumstances thing is back

Oh god

Oh no

Chapter 10

361. how long has it been?

362. three days

I love them (Elephants! My excellent queen!)

You promised to trust him

364. Oh no. Oh no. (Relius)

370. These Helen convos…

371. Sad. :(

372. Emtis and Lader

Yeah.

Omg

374. Wow

Steal by elephant?

377. Don’t forget about Dite!

378. He’s gonna kill him?

379. Is Dite dead too?

Oh Sejanus

Oh I see

He’s got a mercy taste too

380. Switching!

Lying in moonlight. Hm.

381. Yesss

Nooooo

383. I’m nervous

Gods blessing on your road

Wow. <3

They would have fallen… (if Pheris had gone through with his plan, that’s how they both would have died)

Did not expect Sejanus feelings in Rott.

Chapter 11

386. He’s gonna know. But the trust.

Ion knows.

390. Gen…

Pheris is Lyopidus?

I’m scared

393. I kind of love Ion

More Sejanus, bring it on

I’m nervous

Hmmm… who could it be

395. MoW :( <3 I will not be ok if he dies too

Gen knows the way bc Costis (nope)

Oh my god these two (“I lied” “I know”)

Chapter 12

398. Oh no.

This is not

Her Thief

Irene. “only sleeping” this is what Eddis said to her

But mist… water???

Face touch

402. not living or dead. King

Yes. But no.

403. crying at everything and the MoW next to him

There he went

It was the Eddisians. He fought with them.

404. yeah that’s a lot to deal with, Pheris

405. what a mystery man (Sejanus)

Lol mysterious exit averted

Excuse me that was a difference

406. :(

Am I king

407. Helen is once again right. She’s also always right

MOIRA was Melisande???!??!? (who even knows)

409. ?? Irene?

Same as for Dite. Man loves his brothers. (nephews. you know what I mean.)

Nice.

AAH yup. Add it to the list (“How neatly you tie them together” ... the list of is ways Gen and Irene are becoming more like each other)

410. speaking of which where is Costis!

Hm… what god was that

I love their reactions

411. SPLENDID.

Oh Irene. It’s true <3

It’s so true (“When the king gives his heart he gives it completely”)

Now I’m crying again, at them

412. Gen, she has a point.

Amazing. I … I don’t think she meant to ask like THAT

Jesus, Gen.

You do not know a wagon from a wheelbarrow

413. Irene!

She’d better get home safe.

Gen!

Omg

414. I have another bad feeling, about Gen

415. High king or queen though?

Magus <3

Chapter 13

416. “of course”

That’s ominous

417. No! Sejanus!

A gut wound yikes

418. sadness

419. lol “ill will”

We’re in Roa. My heart’s pounding.

422. I love Gen.

YESSS

Yes I love them.

Sheep.

Kamet!!!

?!?

Costis. Mattresses exist.

424. Oh no.

426. roof dream

Good roof dream

Good job Helen

428. TWINS. Everyone was RIGHT

Reyatimi

Oh shit. The sky.

Oh dear. :( aaah

430. Climbing the rigging!

“it’s just that you have so many least favorite things”

431. I love them (Gen and Irene)

432. I love them (Gen and Helen)

433. RIGHT! I was thinking

I can’t <3 (they’re naming the baby after the MoW, and it’s perfect, and she’s not gonna tell us, huh)

OH MY GOD!!! (baby thief!)

WOW!

434. AAAAAAH (Hector! @threetoadswaltz finished reading before me and knew that I would explode about this and I DID, I threw my arms in the air! HECTOR!)

PERFECTION!

435. AAAAAAAAH (this was when it became clear they were going to dance on the roof)

Yes she was (as surefooted as the king)

Is this the first time she’s Irene

Yes.

I’m filled with happiness

Celia and Lavia again … lol.

Lol Chloe

THALIA

CRENELATED wall

HE’S ALIVE

Kamet is a sweetheart

The gods!!!

The gods!

Aracthus

Mystery goddess?

Ula?

Moira! Yes!

(I was very happy. The page itself:)

Alyta’s Missing Earring

Wait. Was it Alyta.

Glad we got a bi god (with all due respect to Immakuk and Ennikar, whose bi-ness and godliness is perhaps more up to the reader)

Got very bi very fast

Also. He’s Gen.

Interesting difference in story

Kathodicia!

Are we literally getting ALL the answers? (No. But so many more than I expected!)

Gen’s grandfather sucks

An urn huh

Omg. Heiro’s earrings?

Oh my gosh.

Same, Gen. Same.

Obvs Phresine knows.

Is Phresine a goddess?

Same, Gen. Same.

She got to tell a story! She is so happy!

I think he’s a little scared

Moleskin

Yeah peace huh

This series is socially sanctioned silliness

1000 Eugenides. Wow.

They did melt though

Little thief.

<3 <3 <3

He’s a character in a story

A big question

Tamarisk? Takima? (We are not getting all the answers.)

That’s it! Thank you for reading - it feels very self-indulgent to type up all of these, but I will honestly take most chances to relive the intense and wonderful experience of reading this book for the first time, which often means looking back at my own notes and sometimes means sharing them with people. Also, I really love reading liveblogs/real-time book thoughts, so here is one from awhile ago ... all at once.

Anyway, check out this word cloud from all of the notes (made with this site):

It’s ... mostly just character names, with a variety of words that express my enthusiasm and feeling (love, lol, wow, yes, excuse me...). Gen is the biggest because I said his name 115 times! Here are some totals for the other characters who came up a lot:

115 - Gen (and 10 Eugenides)

42 - Pheris

26 - Costis

18 - Irene (and 6 Attolia)

16 - Helen (and 8 Eddis)

10 - Sophos (and 4 Sounis)

12 - the magus

11- Kamet

11 - Teleus

10 - Relius

9 - Ion

6 - MoW

6 - Moira

5 - Sejanus

These don’t fully represent how much I had to say about them, because I didn’t always refer to people by name or title ... which kind of explains why Costis’s total is ridiculously high compared to how much he is in the book - I likely have more notes about other characters, but I didn’t need to bring up their names because they were already present in the scenes I was taking notes on (for example, I think I talked about Relius more than Teleus, the magus, or Kamet, but many of those just referred to him as he, because it was obvious to me who I meant). But also I was just looking for Costis! Anyway. My use of names and titles for the monarchs also really illustrates how much this book reshaped the way I think of these characters’ relationship to them, Gen’s and Irene’s especially.

It’s representative of my feelings about this series that I wrote “I love them” about so many combinations of characters. Who, exactly? And how many times? Well...

5 - Gen and Irene

4 - Gen and Helen

2 - Gen and Pheris

1 - Gen, Irene, Helen, and Sophos

1 - Helen and Sophos

1 - Costis and Kamet

1 - unknown combo of Gen, Pheris, and Relius on p.166, I love them all and can’t remember. Kamet’s map was there, too, and I do love Kamet, so maybe he was in there too.

no matter what the numbers say, I love them all endlessly, and I love this book.

be blessed in your endeavors, yes I will take any questions about these notebook screams, etc.

#annotating this caused me to look back at so many scenes i will never be over #aaah #return of the thief #the queen's thief #mwt #return of the thief spoilers #rott spoilers #something i #hey #threetoadswaltz #i tagged you because i mentioned you but reading this is not Required #you know it all anyway. ... this time ;)#it was just your exploding comment

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hxlyhead-harpies · 4 years ago

Text

The Last Dream of My Soul pt. 3 (R.L.)

Pairing: Young!Remus Lupin x Reader

Summary: The very bookish (Y/n) has spent most of her life alone, aside from her best friends Lily and her beloved books. But when the infamous Marauders get thrust into her life, how could she resist the beautiful and unattainable Remus.

Warnings: None

Word Count: 2.7k

Hi everyone! I am really proud of this part and how it turned out so I hope that you like it!

Part 1, Part 2

Now that you spent more time with the Marauders, you finally got to go to Hogsmeade with Lily again. Just like old times you and Lily walked around arm in arm. The only difference now though, was that her other arm was linked around James’s. It must have been an odd sight. The three of you strolling through the village together, attached at the arms. But you didn’t care. You finally had your time with Lily back.

“Oi (Y/n)!” Sirius shouted. You turned towards him, smiling.

“Yes?”

“You make an absolutely fabulous third wheel. Even better at it than me, I reckon,” he said with a laugh. You dislodged your arm from Lily’s and began to walk in step with Sirius.

“I would say that it’s still a pretty close contest. I haven’t forgotten when you went along on a date with them,” you said jokingly. Lily turned to look over her shoulder from in front of you.

“And I haven’t forgotten yet either, you git!” Lily shouted. Sirius let out a deep belly laugh.

“I’m sorry Evans! I swear,” he shouted back. You laughed along with the two of them, struggling to remember a time when you had felt this happy. You were finally starting to understand the appeal of larger friend groups. You couldn’t feel lonely when you were surrounded by friends. You turn to look over your shoulder to see Remus and Peter lagging behind you. Peter had dropped his scarf and had begun to chase after it when it got caught in the wind. While the snow on the path to Hogsmeade had been shoveled, the sides of the roadway had not. So as Peter kept attempting to run through the shin-deep snow, he kept faceplanting into it. Remus stood behind him, safely on the road, with a wide grin on his face. His face was flushed red from the cold and he kept shouting after Peter, attempting to direct him to the scarf. The scene made you smile softly. You felt a nudge against your shoulder. You turned to face Sirius who was giving you an odd look. His expression made you almost believe that he knew something that you didn’t.

“What?” you asked him.

“What’re you staring at?” he inquired. You gestured to Peter struggling to get up from a mound of snow, sputtering out a string of curses.

“Peter’s lost his scarf,” you answered simply. Sirius smirked at you.

“Are you sure that all you were looking at?” he responded in a teasing tone. You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion.

“What do you mean Sirius?”

“Oh nothing,” he responded cheekily. You frown, confused at his answer. Before you had the chance to further push the question the lot of you arrived at the Three Broomsticks.

James pushed open the door, causing a blast of warm air to hit you. You sighed contentedly. James and Sirius ran off to the bar to grab a round of butterbeer.

“A hot chocolate for me!” you yelled after the two boys, sliding into the booth next to Lily. Sirius turned around towards you and saluted in affirmation. After you and Lily got settled, removing the layers of hats and scarves from your body, Remus and Peter stumbled through the door. They were both smiling wide with red faces. Peter was huffing and puffing but held up his red and gold scarf above his head triumphantly. You and Lily cheered loudly from your table, drawing the attention of a few of the other patrons. They made their way over to the table, grinning the entire way. As they made their way over, James and Sirius also arrived at the table, beverages in hand. James slid in next to Lily while Peter sat on his other side. Remus gently slipped into the spot next to you, while Sirius began handing out the drinks.

“Okay then. Butterbeers for all of the normal people, and hot chocolates for Moony and (Y/n),” he said factitiously. You and Remus both reached for the same mug, accidentally brushing hands. You pulled back your hand quickly, muttering a quick apology, and attempted to hide the heat that had risen to your cheeks. Ever since that night in the common room where Remus had revealed to you that he didn’t like the idea of romance, you had done everything in your power to squash your crush. You tried your best to sit far from him at meals, you made sure that you were never alone together, and you found yourself talking to him less. But alas, none of this helped to quell your infatuation. All it took was merely seeing his face or hearing him speak for you to become a stuttering mess. None of your efforts conceded in stopping butterflies from erupting in your stomach every time you were near him.

The table talked about random, trivial things for a while. Topics such as “who had finished the charms essay” and “why were the first years acting extra annoying?” After a few minutes though, side conversations began to break off. Sirius and Peter appeared to be in a heated conversation, while Lily and James looked at each other all lovey-dovey, exchanging gentle touches to each other’s arms. For a moment you and Remus sat in silence, sipping your hot chocolates. After a second Remus cleared his throat.

“So I’m really enjoying the book so far,” he said.

“Good, I’m glad,” you replied with a smile.

“And I have to say, your annotations are quite entertaining,” he teasingly said. You groaned, putting your head in your hands.

“I’m sorry about that. But you can’t say I didn’t warn you,” you replied. He shot you a grin before taking another sip of hot chocolate.

“Well-” he placed his mug back down on the table- “It definitely makes reading it more fun,” he said. You smiled at this, humming in agreement.

“I suppose that could be true, I do tend to write pretty idiotic things in the margins,” you said with a laugh. Remus laughed along with you.

“I wouldn’t say idiotic… Though they aren’t the most insightful comments,” he teased. You playfully nudge his arm, ignoring the way that the touch made your heart skip a beat.

“But I do have to say, my favorite part is seeing the lines that you underline. You pick good favorite phrases,” he said earnestly. You smiled, tracing the rim of your mug with your forefinger.

“It’s one of my many talents,” you respond. Remus hummed in agreement before returning to his hot chocolate. At that moment Sirius began to tell a story detailing his latest rendezvous and you turned toward him to listen. You and Lily made faces at the moments where he bordered on disrespectful, sending him warning glares, while James high fived him from under the table.

After about an hour of reveling in the warmth of the pub, the group headed back out into the cold, ready to make the journey back to Hogwarts. As you exited the pub’s doors you felt yourself gasp in delight. While you were sitting inside, it had begun to snow. You practically ran outside, sticking your hands out to try and catch snowflakes. Lily and the Marauders watched you from the doorway, all of them smiling. You turned back to look at them with a jubilant expression.

“Guys,” you exclaimed breathily, “it’s snowing!” Lily ran out to join you, immediately sticking out her tongue to catch snowflakes. James followed behind her closely, putting his hand on her waist. Sirius spent no time crafting a snowball and chucking it at Peter’s stomach. The boys began chasing after one another, attempting to stuff snow down each other’s hoods. Lily squealed with delight when James picked her up by the waist before plopping her down into a snowbank.

“Potter!” she shrieked, “You’re going to pay for that!” She made a snowball as quickly as she could and chucked it at her boyfriend, earning a chuckle from the group. You watched from the side, content catching snowflakes in your gloved hand and watching them disappear. After a moment you sensed someone walk up beside you. You looked up to see Remus who was smiling down on you. You smiled back, your stomach churning. His eyes looked down at your gloves which had an array of snowflakes melting on them.

“Here,” he said, moving to stand in front of you. He grabbed your hand lightly, turning it so your palm was facing the sky. He waited for a snowflake to land there before muttering a quick incantation and pointing his wand at the flake. It froze in place, his spell stopping it from melting. You looked at it with wide eyes, admiring its beauty. The small, crystalized, symmetrical shape was extremely beautiful. You felt awestruck. You looked up to thank Remus, an impossibly large grin on your face.

“Thank you,” you breathed out. He smiled at you before responding.

“You’re welcome. I thought you’d enjoy it,” he said, his breath fanning across your face, reminding you of your close proximity. You flushed, stepping back an inch.

“I did,” you replied shyly. The moment is broken when a snowball exploded on Remus’s shoulder. He sputtered for a moment, knocked off balance. He reached for your shoulder to steady himself before scanning the scene to identify his attacker. Sirius and James grinned at him cheekily, more snowballs in hands.

“Oh you two are dead!” he yelled at his best friends, kneeling down to create his own snowball. The snow war waged on for a few more minutes, you eventually being pulled into the battle. And you use it as an excuse to distract yourself from replaying the moment that you just had with Remus.

After your small moment in Hogsmeade, you felt a slight shift in your relationship with Remus. He seemed to purposely seek you out to talk to you; topics of discussion ranged from books to the upcoming holiday break to random tidbits of gossip. (Remus was a notorious gossip but he would vehemently deny it if anyone suggested it). The way he spoke to you appeared to be softer, more gentle, and when you’d find yourself alone with him in the common room late at night, the conversations seemed more intimate and vulnerable. But despite these factors, you refused to let yourself think about it too deeply. You knew Remus’s stance on romance and you didn’t want to get your hopes up for nothing. Despite this though, you still reveled in each conversation, soaking up everything that he had to say. You were content just listening to him talk, hearing the melodic tone of his voice. And while late at night you fantasized that he’d confess his love to you in the same way that the leading men from your books did, you were just fine being his friend. At least that was what you told yourself.

At some point, you and Remus had formed a habit of reading together in the astronomy tower. It was almost always empty after dinner, so you and Remus would head up there and settle down next to each other to read. You would mostly read in silence, occasionally breaking the quiet tranquility to discuss something happening in your respective novels. But it was a comfortable silence, the kind of silence you had only ever experienced before with Lily. It almost scared you how fast Remus and you had become close. You thought that you had a good understanding of one another, despite only knowing each other for a few weeks. You knew that you didn’t know everything about him, but you felt that you truly knew him nonetheless.

On this night you were reading Persuasion, another muggle romance. Remus was still reading your tattered copy of A Tale of Two Cities. You had been reading for about half an hour when you began to peer over the edge of your book at Remus, something you caught yourself doing quite often.

His eyes were slightly furrowed in concentration, his thumbnail caught between his teeth. His messy hair was beginning to fall into his eyes which were sweeping across the page in front of him. He looked absolutely beautiful, and you felt as if you could spend your whole life watching him.

You eventually let your eyes fall back to your own book, attempting to avoid being caught admiring him. You spent a few more moments reading, envisioning yourself and Remus in the shoes of Anne and Captain Wentworth until you felt a gentle tap on your shoulder. You turned to look up at Remus, who was smiling gently.

“I think I’ve found your favorite part,” he said quietly. You felt yourself smile and straightened up.

“Really?” you asked excitedly. Remus nodded, shifting around so he was now facing you fully. He cleared his throat and before you realized his plan he began to read the passage out loud.

“To none. No, Miss Manette, to none. If you will hear me through a very little more, all you can ever do for me is done. I wish you to know that you have been the last dream of my soul,” he read. You felt yourself beam as he uttered your favorite line. It had somehow become even more romantic in his voice.

“In my degradation I have not been so degraded but that the sight of you with your father, and of this homemade such a home by you, has stirred old shadows that I thought had died out of me. Since I knew you, I have been troubled by a remorse that I thought would never reproach me again, and have heard whispers from old voices impelling me upward, that I thought were silent forever. I have had unformed ideas of striving afresh, beginning anew, shaking off sloth and sensuality, and fighting out the abandoned fight. A dream, all a dream, that ends in nothing, and leaves the sleeper where he lay down,” he paused to take a breath, looking up at you with flushed cheeks.

“But I wish you to know that you inspired it,” he said, finishing the paragraph. You felt yourself swoon from the combination of the romantic words of the text and Remus’s eyes boring into your own. You smiled softly at him before turning away, unable to handle the eye contact. You played with the hem of your skirt for a second, though you still felt his eyes on you.

“You guessed correctly,” you muttered, “that is my favorite part.” Remus hummed, nodding slightly.

“I can see why you enjoy it so much,” he said. From the corner of your eye, you saw him tracing his finger across the words you had underlined.

“Really? You? Mr. unromantic?” you teased. You lifted your head to look at him again. His cheeks were tinted red and he rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly.

“Well… maybe I’m beginning to see the appeal of romance,” he said ashamedly. You furrowed your eyebrows and attempted to slow your now racing heart.

“Oh?” you said softly, not daring to meet his eyes.

“Well fictional ones at least,” he said quickly. You felt your face crumple at his words, quickly attempting to cover it up.

“Oh I understand what you mean,” you replied, trying to keep your words light. “At least now you have so many more books you can read,” you continued. Remus chuckled from beside you.

“I suppose so. Might have to borrow them from you though,” he said. “I’ll miss reading your annotations after I’m done with this,” he continued, flashing the cover of the book towards you. You tucked a strand of hair behind your ear and shot him a small smile.

“Well don’t worry. I have hoards of books with silly little notes in them that I can lend you,” you said with a giggle. Remus laughed with you for a moment before you turned back to your own novel. Quickly, you became engrossed in the story. So engrossed that you missed the way Remus continuously traced one line in the book. A line that had been underlined many times, in an array of colors. A line that had kept you up at night, fantasizing that someday, someone would think it of you.

“I wish you to know that you have been the last dream of my soul”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Taglist:

@goosegorl @serenefreakgeekao3 @blueflame2778

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lovemeafterhrs · 4 years ago

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come over when ur sober | s. rintarou

track fourteen: white wine

this chap ended up being so long i had to split it into two parts 😔 rip the plot ig

~~~~

the morning began with the dreaded ringing of suna’s alarm clock as he rushed to click the snooze button. much to his demise, morning had already turned into afternoon and he had ten minutes to get to the class he’d been both dreading and anticipating. he was trudging his way through his room much faster than he would’ve liked, pulling on the nearest clean shirt and reaching for socks and shoes. dragging his feet out the door, he remembered a crucial detail that normally would’ve sent him tumbling straight back into his dorm room for a ‘sick day.’

he had forgotten to finish reading that stupid short story mrs. elaine was raving about.. maybe the quizlet will be enough? god this is so fucked-

his shoes hit the pavement and a cold rush of air left his cheeks flushed as he turned the corner, eyeing the campus courtyard as he spotted a familiar face frozen in surprise next to one of the benches. she was staring down a tall, dark haired foreign man with an almost crucial eye, like she was trying to place the identity of a stranger that she’d long forgotten. her face contorted into one of realization as her eyes moved from his figure to suna’s, and she rushed over to him with wide eyes as she pulled him towards one of the nearby pillars.

“suna!” she squeaked, eyes shifting from him to the center of the courtyard. “does that guy look familiar to you?”

he paused, following her vision as he eyed the man up and down. it wasn’t every day that a disheveled american came to visit their university, but he looked a little too old to be a student. his white collared shirt crinkled under his jacket, hanging loose around his tie as he pulled on it nervously. he looked stressed, like he was waiting for someone he was afraid would never show up. his actions were almost hauntingly familiar, yet he couldn’t quite figure out why.

after a moment, realization overwhelmed him as he thought of the polaroids scattered across the desk of his comparative world literature teacher. they had caught his eye one day, shortly after learning about his professor’s long lost love from the states. one person had stood out amongst the others in the photos, towering over the younger image of his teacher as she smiled brightly in his arms. he looked much more serious now, face turned into a deep frown as he paced back and forth. suna turned to the girl next to him as she pulled on his jacket sleeve excitedly.

“you know what this means, right?” she smirked, and he rolled his eyes playfully as he started walking, inadvertently taking her with him.

“we’re gonna be late for class, you’ve been glaring at that guy for like five minutes.” he pointed out, and her footsteps picked up in speed to match his pace as she stuck her tongue out at him.

“since when do you want to go to class?” the sarcastic response earned a huff from the boy, causing her laugh to ring through the halls as they made their way up the stairs.

“to see if she’s there yet, duh.” suna wasn’t going to lie, he had taken a particular interest in professor elaine’s dramatic tale of lost love. he’d never admit it, but he spent many hours connecting the dots of small comments she’d made to figure out the story. it was a favored topic among the dinner table, and he found himself paying attention more in class just to catch those little details.

“see, i knew you were interested! don’t try to play me for a foo-“ her voice slowly began to trail off as they turned the corner, before stopping completely as they walked in the door. “she’s not here yet?”

students were littered throughout the classroom, sitting on desks talking or catching up on homework as she walked towards the window. suna followed shortly behind, staring through the glass at the man’s distant figure. he was standing at the fountain now, staring off into the ocean of people as they made their way to class.

poor guy. maybe she knew and decided to avoid him-

“oh my god, oh my god! she’s walking through the courtyard right now. suna, get your camera ready!” he turned to face her, fighting a blush as she beamed up at him. her eyes were practically sparkling, and his mind was running wild as he coughed and turned back to the scene at hand.

after getting stuck in traffic for forty five minutes on her way to work, professor elaine was absolutely at her wits end. when she finally pulled into the parking lot and turned off her car, she thought she’d dealt with the worst possible inconvenience of the day. undoubtedly, she was wrong.

her heels clicked against the cement as she walked through the courtyard, determined to get to class and finish the day. as she passed by the fountain, a head of dark hair caught her eye as she stopped and turned towards the tall man. her entire world stopped for a moment as he fixed his glasses, and the words dried up in her mouth as she turned and quickly shuffled her way up the stairs.

she had bigger priorities, like the full class of students waiting for their instructor. she had all the time in the world to tell him, right?

she didn’t expect to be greeted by every student gathered at the window, gawking at her in disbelief.

“what the FUCK was that,” came a comment from one side of the large window.

“i uh.. have a class to teach?” she offered, and the students booed at her as she tried to wave them off. “no, seriously guys, we have to annotate that short story today-“

“fuck that, aren’t you in love with him or whatever?” suna responded plainly, still planted next to the short girl as she shook her head at her teacher.

“yeah, professor. you’re always talking about taking chances, and you’re here wanting to annotate the monkey's paw? seriously?” she added, and they nodded amongst themselves as she looked between them.

since when have they been such a pair? have they always been so.. friendly?

“what are you still doing here?” mei stood from her desk, glaring at her professor as she shooed her away with her hands. “go, before we drag you!”

“but what about class-“

“we’ll catch up tomorrow! now get out of here!”

huddled together at the window, the comparative world literature students watched as she approached the fountain, and the sounds of clapping and cheering echoed through the other classrooms as he pulled her into his arms. frozen in the moment with sun shining through the windows, suna rintarou felt at ease. her bright smile never faded, pulling open the window to cheer at the top of her lungs with her head poking through the glass. whoops and whistles poured out of the room, filling the courtyard with laughter as they watched the professor get her happy ending.

if only suna hadn’t been so focused on the arm that had wrapped around his as she pulled herself back from the open window, giggling as she smiled down at her teacher. if his eyes had bothered to leave her for just a moment, he might’ve seen the ending to the story he’d been so interested in only moments prior.

masterlist:

taglist: @skomiomi @elianetsantana @dae-kirei @koushiskitten @sredamancy @inarizakiu @kozutenshi @alienvarmint @4kaashl @witcherydotcom @dreamstormings @sapphicstarss @atsunakaashi @words-in-air @laughingismorefun @ssunasimpp @iminlovewhaikyuu @melodiamore @peteunderoos @my-love-for-you-is-missing @anngelllla @kathya420 @youngestdelacour @lgbtq-haikyuu @momoinot @indecisivehusky @moonlightsof @02hhsailor @sakusarights @crybabbicus @rintaoreo @colorseeingchick @peganimeboys @sunakissses @keisunaa

#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu smau #suna smau #rintarou suna #suna rintarou x reader #cowys <3 #enemies to lovers! suna #also THIS IS THE DREADED CAMPUS SCENE #I REWROTE THIS SO MANY TIMES #id like to personally thank campus by vampire weekend for making this chapter happen #basically pain

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marlborodean · 4 years ago

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annotation for my "destiel but it's just one direction playlist," mainly for my sister who hasn't seen supernatural but you guys can read it too if you want :^)

DIANA // 4x01, "Lazarus Rising"

this episode introduces Cas :) Castiel speaks Enochian but when he was trying to speak to Dean he was instead causing radio static and shattering windows :) he gripped Dean tight and raised him from perdition :) he knew all of Dean’s soul just from touching him :) he left his handprint burned into Dean’s skin :)

Notable Lyrics:

how could someone not miss you at all?

i never would mistreat you, no, i’m not a criminal. i speak a different language but I still hear your call

let me be the one to light a fire inside those eyes. you’ve been lonely, you don’t even know me, but I can feel you crying. let me be the one to lift your heart up and save your life. i don’t think you even realize, baby, you’d be saving mine

it’s only been four months but you’ve fallen down so far

i wanna reach out for you, i wanna break these walls

we all need something. if i could hold you, swear i’d never put you down

KISS YOU // 4x07, "It's the Great Pumpkin, Sam Winchester"

the only reason i have for this is the pure tension between Dean and Cas in this ep, which includes Dean staring at Cas's mouth and licking his lips :)

Notable Lyrics:

i just wanna take you anywhere that you like, we could go out any day, any night. i’ll take you there

tell me how to turn your love on. you can get anything that you want

if you want me to, let’s make a move

HEY ANGEL // 4x10, "Heaven and Hell"

in this ep, there is a female angel who is. i mean she’s just there to mirror what Cas will become. she is a fallen angel who rebelled because she fell in love with humanity :) and Cas talks to her, tells her that “for the time, i feel…” later in the show there’s another angel that says Cas’s “true weakness is involved. he’s in love! with humanity" :) also in this ep, the female angel and Dean have sex. clearly if Cas was a woman they would’ve been in a relationship long ago :)

Notable Lyrics:

hey angel, do you look at us and laugh when we hold onto the past? hey angel, tell me, do you ever try to come to the other side?

i wish i could be more like you. do you wish you could be more like me?

i see you at the bar, at the edge of my bed, backseat of my car, in the back of my head

BETTER THAN WORDS // 4x22, "Lucifer Rising"

in this ep, Dean is kept in a beautiful white room (which they call the green room #theatrekidvibes), and everyone understands the tension between Dean and Cas to be needlessly horny :) Cas defies heaven's orders to help Dean :)

Notable Lyrics:

more than a feeling, crazy in love. every time we touch, i’m all shook up. best i ever had, hips don’t lie, you make me wanna—

how deep is your love? god only knows

i don’t know how else to sum it up, there’s no way i can explain your love

everyone tries to see what it feels like, but they’ll never be right

YOU & I // 4x22, "Lucifer Rising"

Castiel literally invented free will. the prophet Chuck couldn’t predict Castiel’s actions :) he said “you guys aren’t in this story!” and Cas replied “we’re making it up as we go” :)

Notable Lyrics:

we can make it ’til the end, nothing can come between you and i. not even the gods above can separate the two of us, nothing can come between you and i. we could make it if we try

EVERYTHING ABOUT YOU // 5x03, "Free to Be You and Me"

in this ep, Castiel thinks he is going to die the next day so Dean takes him out for a fun night :) and Dean says it’s the first time he’s laughed that hard in a long time :)

Notable Lyrics:

you know i’ve always got your back, so let me be the one you come running to. just call my name, i’ll be coming through. on the other side of the world, it don’t matter, i’ll be there in two

there’s something about your laugh that makes me want to have to. there’s nothing funny so we laugh at nothing.

every minute’s like the last so let’s just take it real slow. forget about the clock that’s ticking

you have always been the only one i wanted

i wanted you to know without you i can’t face it

WHY DON'T WE GO THERE // 5x03, "Free to Be You and Me"

same ep, but this is placed here because Dean said to Cas, “there are two things I know for certain. One: Bert and Ernie are gay. Two: you are not gonna die a virgin, not on my watch.” you connect those dots :)

Notable Lyrics:

think about all the places we could go if you five in tonight. just let me set you free

we’ve got all night, and we’re going nowhere. why don’t you stay? why don’t we go there? let’s take a ride out in the cold air, i know the way, why don’t you go there with me?

ONCE IN A LIFETIME // 5x04, "The End"

in this ep, an angel zaps Dean to five years into the future where he meets his future self and future Cas. there was HEAVY subtext that they were together :) at the end of the ep, after he sees his future self die and ultimately destroy the entire world, he is zapped back to present time (where it is safe) and Castiel is there waiting for him at the side of the road in the middle of the night :)

Notable Lyrics:

once in a lifetime, you were mine

when i close my eyes, all the stars align and you are by my side. once in a lifetime, it’s just right. we are always safe, not even the bad guys in the dark night could take it all away

DRAG ME DOWN // 6x20, "The Man Who Would Be King"

this fits anywhere between 4x01 and this ep, which is when. when Dean finds out that Cas had betrayed him and was working alongside the king of hell behind his back :) so as long as this is placed before That Scene, it's fine :)

Notable Lyrics:

i’ve got a fire for a heart, i’m not scared of the dark, you’ve never seen it look so easy. i’ve got a river for a soul, and baby, you’re a boat. baby you’re my only reason

if i didn’t have you, there would be nothing left. the shell of a man that could never be his best. if i didn’t have you, i’d never see the sun

you taught me how to be someone

all my life you stood by me, when no one else was ever behind me. with your love, nobody can drag me down

WOLVES // 6x20, "The Man Who Would Be King"

the war with angels is oncoming, so Cas is trying (trying) to do lots of damage control with that, which means killing angels and demons alike that are after the Winchesters. there's a great scene here :) idk it fits here somehow my brain is too big to be confined by the English language

Notable Lyrics:

in the middle of the night when the wolves come out, they head straight for your heart like a bullet in the dark. one by one, i take them down

i keep on holding tight now, ‘cause your body’s telling me don’t let go

just getting my demons out, wouldn’t ever doubt. your beauty could start a war as you walk in the dining room

i wish it wasn’t true, but the whole world’s trying to get a piece of you, and my heart keeps fighting in this battle of fools

INFINITY // 6x20, "The Man Who Would Be King"

since Cas is trying to prevent the war, much like Aziraphale, he is deemed a failed and fallen angel! :) but then Dean finds out Cas has been working with the king of hell behind his back! :) Cas says "It sounds so simple when you say it like that. Where were you when I needed to hear it?" and Dean replies "I was there. Where were you?" :)

Notable Lyrics:

down to earth, keep on falling when i know it hurts

now i’m one step closer to being two steps from you, when everybody wants you

i was there for you. all i ever wanted was the truth. how many nights have you wished someone would stay?

FOOL'S GOLD // 7x02, "Hello, Cruel World"

i see this as Cas POV as he decides to sacrifice himself and let the Leviathans destroy him, before he leaves Dean ahahaha! i see it in this point in time because Cas loves Dean but assumes Dean doesn't feel the same, but! as we see, Dean keeps Cas's coat (because he loves him)

Notable Lyrics:

i know in my heart, you’re not a constant star. i let you use me from the day that we first met, but I’m not done yet, falling for you. i knew that you turned it on for everyone you’ve met, but i don’t regret falling for you

i know your love’s not real, but that’s not the way it feels. that’s not the way you feel

HALF A HEART // 7x02-7x21

literally every time Cas dies, Dean becomes inconsolable and loses all will to live and succumbs to raging alcoholism :) in season 7, when Cas dies, Dean keeps his jacket. for months. :) also applies to 13x01-13x05

Notable Lyrics:

so your friends [have] been telling me, you’ve been sleeping with my sweater, and that you can’t stop missing me. bet my friends [have] been telling you, i’m not doing much better

i’m missing half of me, and being here without you is like i’m waking up to only half a blue sky. kind of there, but not quite. i’m walking 'round with just one shoe. i’m half a heart without you. i’m half a man at best, with half an arrow in my chest. i miss everything we do. i’m half a heart without you

forget all we said that night, it doesn’t even matter

though i try to get you out of my head, the truth is i got lost without you

GIRL ALMIGHTY // 8x17, "Goodbye Stranger"

very closely tied to the imagery of the episode rather than the story. the bright light as Cas overpowers his brainwashing, Dean kneeling in front of Cas. not to self-promo but watch my Religion AMV to see what i mean!! it's visceral stuff :)

Notable Lyrics:

her light is as loud as many ambulances as it takes to save a savior

am i the only believer? there’s something happening here. i hope you feel what i’m feeling too

i get down on my knees for you

STRONG // 8x17, "Goodbye Stranger"

Castiel has been brainwashed into betraying Dean again, to the point where he was forced to participate in hundreds of simulations where he has to kill Dean :) so when the time comes where he’s told to kill Dean, he suddenly can’t do it :) know why? because Dean tells him “Cas, it’s me. We need you. I need you.” :)

Notable Lyrics:

my hands, your hands, tied up like two ships. my heart, your heart, sit tight like bookends. pages between us written with no end. so many words we’re not saying. don’t wanna wait til it’s gone

i’m sorry if i say ‘i need you’

when i’m not with you, i’m weaker. is that so wrong? is it so wrong that you make me strong?

WHERE DO BROKEN HEARTS GO // 9x03, "I'm No Angel"

Cas loses his grace so now he is human. for some reason i don’t remember, Dean tells him he can’t stay at his place anymore. now Cas is homeless! :) and so Dean regrets it and goes to look for him :) also side note but there is some fan headcanons or theories that Cas had to resort to sex work to make money :/

Notable Lyrics:

counted all my mistakes and there’s only one standing out from the list of the things i’ve done. all the rest of my crimes don’t come close to the look on your face when i let you go.

the taste of your lips on the tip of my tongue is at the top of the list of the things i want

love was something you’ve never heard enough

now i’m searching every lonely place, every corner calling out your name, trying to find you, but i just don’t know. where do broken hearts go?

are you sleeping by yourself? or are you giving it to someone else?

tell me where you go when you feel afraid. tell me, will you ever love me again?

I WANT TO WRITE YOU A SONG // 11x03, "The Bad Seed"

no thoughts only the scene of Dean wrapping a blanket around Cas :)

Notable Lyrics:

i want to write you a song, one that’s beautiful as you are sweet, with just a hint of pain for the feeling that i get when you are gone

i want to lend you my coat, one that’s as soft as your cheek, so when the world is cold, you’ll have a hiding place you can go

everything i need i get from you, giving back is all i wanna do

MOMENTS // 11x23, "Alpha and Omega"

this song is like...every time Dean or Cas is about to sacrifice himself/DIE and they get emotional about it. this is an Exemplary episode that fits well with this song because a) they had time to make this plan, which means they would have time to say goodbyes and be ~intimate~ abt it, and b) the hug towards the end when Cas casually says "I could go with you," offering to DIE alongside Dean :)

Notable Lyrics:

shut the door, turn the light off. i wanna be with you, i wanna feel your love. i wanna lay beside you. i cannot hide this, even though i try.

trembling hands touch skin, it makes this harder. and the tears stream down my face

if we could only have this life for one more day. if we could only turn back time

i’ll be your life, your voice, your reason to be. my love/my heart is breathing for this moment in time. i’ll find the words to say before you leave me today.

don’t wanna be without you

there’s a pile of my clothes at the end of your bed as i feel myself fall, make a joke of it all

NO CONTROL // 12x23, "All Along the Watchtower"

this could honestly go anywhere, but i’m placing it in here in the chronology because it’s Cas charging blindly and headfirst into battle with literal Lucifer to protect Dean :) good moment contextually because before Cas ran away to help this woman give birth, he had a pretty cozy domestic life with Dean :) it's important to note that this does get him killed, which does lead to another grieving wife phase for Dean :)

Notable Lyrics:

beside you i’m a loaded gun. i can’t contain this anymore. i’m all yours, i’ve got no control. powerless, and i don’t care it’s obvious. i just can’t get enough of you. the pedal’s down, my eyes are closed

i don’t want to wash away the night before, and the heat where you laid, i could stay right here and burn in it all day

THROUGH THE DARK // 14x14, "Ouroboros"

this is not about the gay gorgon, folks, it's about the Ma'lak Box. Dean is crushed by the responsibility of having to lock himself in a LITERAL box to prevent Michael (the archangel inside his mind) from taking over

Notable Lyrics:

you tell me that you’re hurt and you’re in pain, and i can see your head is held in shame, but i just wanna see you smile again

i’ll be here for you. i will carry you over fire and water for your love. i will hold you closer, hope your heart is strong enough

i wish that i could take you to the stars. i’d never let you fall and break your heart

you tell me that you hurt, it’s all in vain, but i can see your heart can love again, and i remember you laughing so let’s just laugh again

CHANGE MY MIND // 15x03, "The Rupture"

Dean is being a pissy lil bitch because their child died and Castiel can’t deal with it so he leaves :) there’s a lot of stress in their relationship because they both have horrible communication issues. it boils down to Dean thinking like “i want people to just want to stay instead of leaving. i shouldn’t have to ask for that.” and Cas thinking like “i want people to tell me they want me around. i need that verbalized reassurance.” this is canon :)

Notable Lyrics:

the end of the night, we should say goodbye, but we carry on while everyone’s gone

never felt like this before, are we friends or are we more? as i’m walking towards the door, i’m not sure

if you say you want me to say, i’ll change my mind. ‘cause i don’t wanna know i’m walking away if you’ll be mine. i won’t go

IF I COULD FLY // 15x09, "The Trap"

Dean and Cas have to go to Purgatory to retrieve an Ingredient~ they get separated and the portal is about to close and Dean gets desperate so he gets on his knees and prays to Cas :) closure of 15x03 breakup scene, because Dean says “I should’ve stopped you. You’re my best friend, but I just let you go. ‘Cause it was easier than admitting I was wrong.” :) Dean cries more than one tear, one of his most vulnerable moments in the show (rivaled only by the scene where he tells his mom he hates her). this scene is viewed by many, including jackles, as Dean's love confession especially because he evidently wanted to say something more to Cas's face but Cas cut him off :)

Notable Lyrics:

if i could fly, i’d be coming right back home to you. i think i might give up everything, just ask me to

i hope that you listen, cause i let my guard down. right now i’m completely defenseless

for your eyes only, i’ll show you my heart. i’m missing half of me when we’re apart. now you know me

WALKING IN THE WIND // 15x18, "Despair" and 15x19, "Inherit the Earth"

“Despair” is the episode where Castiel confesses his love too Dean. Dean says “Why does this sound like a goodbye?” and Cas replies “Because it is.” :) reminiscent of the way their son Jack (who is a mirror to Cas) tells Sam and Dean “I'll be in every drop of falling rain, every speck of dust that the wind blows, and in the sand, in the rocks, and the sea.” :)

Notable Lyrics:

if you’re lost, just look for me. you’ll find me in the region of the summer stars

the fact that we can sit right here and say goodbye means we’ve already won

goodbyes are bittersweet, but it’s not the end. i’ll see your face again and you will find me

yesterday i went out to celebrate the birthday of a friend, but as we raised our glasses to make a toast I realized you were missing.

SOMETHING GREAT // 15x18, "Despair"-15x20, "Carry On"

Cas pov for 18 and Dean pov for 20 :) Cas saying "the one thing I want... It's something I know I can't have." :) and then Dean missing and wanting Cas back after he died, saying to God, "Cas. You gotta bring him back," yet again falling back into bad alcoholism and depression and suicidal ideation :)

Notable Lyrics:

i want you here with me like how i pictured it, so i don’t have to keep imagining

the script was written…i want to rip it all to shreds and start again. one day i’ll come into your world and get it right

you’re all i want, so much it’s hurting

TRULY MADLY DEEPLY // Post-Canon mwah!

This is what it would have been like for Dean in the version of Supernatural that totally definitely does exist, in which Jack brought Cas back to life and Dean and Cas were reunited and Dean tells Cas he loves him too and then they live a domestic and safe life and Dean is still shocked every morning that he wakes up next to the love of his life :)

Notable Lyrics:

i can’t believe that you are here and lying next to me

like all those days and weeks and months i tried to steal a kiss, and all those sleepless nights and daydreams where i pictured this

somehow you kicked all my walls in, so say you’ll always keep me

should i put coffee and granola on a tray in bed, and wake you up with all the words that i still haven’t said? and tender touches just to show yo how i feel, or should i act so cool like it was no big deal?

#i think my sister is probably asleep right now so i'll update yall on her response later #i'm insane i'm so sorry #ej.pdf #spn #for lisa!

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officialleotolstoy · 4 years ago

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Oh Dolokhov/Hélène Brainrot We’re Really In It Now, aka Dolokhov/Hélène playlist annotations!

I stole several songs from a playlist my friends have and I’m not gonna put those on this list, I won’t pretend I came up with those

The ship playlists (since they aren’t for canon couples) are very much based on my headcanons. We don’t get to see them interact literally ever so I’ve just extrapolated what I can. Several of these songs are at least alluding to sex, I don’t really think they actually slept together for various reasons I can enumerate if someone asks, but it’s more about the vibes of the song.

Casual Affair - Panic! At The Disco

It’s literally in the title. Bestie how much more explanation do you need? I don’t even like this song but it’s got the right energy

Those Nights - Bastille

“Aren’t we all just looking for a little bit of hope these days? Looking for somebody you can wake up with?”

Being drawn to each other because of mutual loneliness is a Thing in my interpretation of their relationship, and this hits the nail on the head.

But It’s Better If You Do - Panic! At The Disco

“Praying for love and paying in naïveté”

Again, mutual loneliness and desperation for anything resembling love. Also the “isn’t this exactly where you like me” bit fits because they won’t admit to liking each other outside of their weird intimate moments.

Hurricane - Panic! At The Disco

“Drop our anchors in a storm”

The circumstances of their lives arent super fun at the moment so they find refuge in each other but in a very weird kind of unhealthy way! “We are a hurricane” sort of alludes to knowing that you’re causing problems/your relationship isn’t great.

Almost (Sweet Music) - Hozier

“I’m almost me again, she’s almost you”

It’s about not really being In Love but kind of convincing yourself you are because it makes you feel better in the circumstances. I don’t think either of them were fully into their relationship for various reasons. Not as in they didn’t want the other, more that they were both too aware it would never work for long.

Hall & Oates - Satchmode

“I want to be in love again, with you”

This one’s about wanting the idea of love and companionship more than you actually like the other person, which I feel like kind of fits. This song is framed as one person in love with the other and one hesitating, but i think this works for both of them to hesitate.

Feel Something - Jaymes Young

“Touch me, someone, I’m too young to feel so numb”

The I have tried like six times and I can’t word why I think this song works. I don’t even like it, I skip it every time, but I think it’s got something to do with loneliness and desperation for love driving them to look for it in places they wouldn’t normally? Who knows. Send me an ask if u do.

Another Place - Bastille

“Don’t make promises to me that you’re gonna break”

They could never actually be together for SO many reasons and I think they’re both pretty aware of that. They have no desire to pretend that their relationship is anything other than what it is (“we only ever wanted one thing from this”).

When You Were Young - The Killers

“You sit there in your heartache, waiting on some beautiful boy to save you”

I do not think Hélène expected Dolokhkov to save her from anything except maybe monotony and loneliness, but this song slaps and if I can stretch the lyrics to work, I will

broken - lovelytheband

“I could be lonely with you”

Almost every song on here (including this one) is just. We’re messed up and I know we won’t really find love in each other but we might find solace for a while and be less lonely so uhhhhh wanna kiss me or what

Bleed Magic - I DONT KNOW HOW BUT THEY FOUND ME

“You stand up, stand up, before I drag you down”

They are NOT good for each other! Toxic relationships uwu

Sweater Weather - The Neighbourhood

I believe in bi4bi Hélène/Dolokhov

Enemy Fire - Bea Miller

“Sweet words from a serpent’s tongue”

This song is kinda complicated and parts of it don’t fit but the energy of “everything sucks including you but at least we can hide from the suckiness together” is sorta there. Originally I just added it for the soldier vibes because I was testing out songs but I realized i can fit some of the lyrics so on the playlist it goes

Angel of the Small Death and the Codeine Scene - Hozier

“Her sweetened breath and her tongue so mean”

They are horrible and cold to each other as a love language. This song is essentially just “Wow my evil scary gf is so hot” and you’re right Fyodor. She is.

Shut Up and Dance - WALK THE MOON

I won’t lie this one’s mostly a joke, I just think the vibes of telling someone to shut up as (maybe because) you’re falling in love with them is Dolokhov/Hélène energy. Ignore all the parts about wanting to be with her forever and her being his destiny that is not why I added it.

Lone Ranger - Rachel Platten

“I’m just gonna leave, ‘cause baby I’m a lone ranger”

I do not think Dolokhov was intending to stay with her forever at all. Very rude of him. However, she probably also knew it wouldn’t last forever, she’s not stupid.

House of Memories - Panic! At The Disco

“Promise me a place in your house of memories”

This is very much post-duel, their relationship has fizzled out but it was pretty important (do I mean emotionally or to the plot? I’ll never tell) and deserves to be remembered.

American Beauty/American Psycho - Fall Out Boy

“I’m the best worst thing that hasn’t happened to you yet”

SO MANY of these lyrics are so good for them like. Hélène’s beautiful Dolokhov’s a psycho... “you take the full truth and you pour some out” can you imagine them being open and honest with each other? Yeah, me neither. “We were pity sex” They were just sad and lonely! That was what allowed anything to happen at all in my head (not sex but bear with me it’s not my fault those are the lyrics). “All those dirty thoughts of me, they were never yours to keep” because Hélène is married to someone else, they really have no right to think of each other that way.

Sk8er Boi - Avril Lavigne

“He wasn’t good enough for her”

UNIRONICALLY THIS SONG. Hélène’s complaints about Dolokhov staying with them are just the quoted lyric. “They had a problem with his baggy clothes” yeah Dolokhov’s not as rich and bougie and the rest of them and he’s certainly rough around the edges. And then the skater boy ending with a successful music career vs Dolokhov ending with a successful military career and a great reputation and both the women in the songs having sad endings...I’m not wrong.

Headfirst Slide Into Cooperstown On A Bad Bet - Fall Out Boy

“Does your husband know the way that the sunshine gleams from your wedding band?”

The affair vibes. The AFFAIR VIBES. And the concept of “I will never end up like him [the husband]/ behind my back I already am” in reference to using Hélène and deciding he hates her right after deciding she’s hot...okay! I see you kinning Pierre, Dolokhov. You ARE being just like her husband :/

You Give Love A Bad Name - Bon Jovi

“Shot through the heart and you’re to blame”

This is just Dolokhov’s massive I Hate Women monologue condensed. Stop blaming beautiful women for YOUR attraction to them maybe 🔫

Death Valley - Fall Out Boy

“Don’t take love off the table yet”

This is not a table sex joke this is not a table sex joke this is not a table sex joke this is n-

I didnt add it for that reason it was about a vibe but then. I realized. Now the original reason doesn’t even matter.

Nobody Puts Baby In The Corner - Fall Out Boy

“I’ll be your best kept secret and your biggest mistake”

Tell me the quoted lyric does not SCREAM Hélène/Dolokhov. You can’t. Also “I’ll weigh you down I’ll watch you choke/You look so good in blue” really captures hatred as a love language.

This is Love - Air Traffic Controller

Ok I stole this from my friends’ playlist but I did want to explain it because it’s not JUST Dolokhov and Hélène in my mind. The whole jealous fool second verse gives me Pierre around the duel energy as well

Bad Boy - Cascada

“Be my weekend lover but don’t be my friend”

Bernie Sanders voice I am once again asking you to hear me out about the unironic meme songs on my War and Peace character playlists. It’s got the refusal to admit that she actually likes hanging out with him down. The line “after some time you just pushed me aside” referring to Dolokhov teasing Pierre about their affair because he got bored. “I dont need you in my life again”...YEAH I’m fairly sure they dont interact in canon again after that.

Hayloft - Mother Mother

“My daddy’s got a gun”

This song started playing on accident once when I was listening to this playlist and I was like huh. It fits though. The gun thing is twofold: 1) Though he is not her father, Pierre does have a gun in the duel and 2) I think Vassily would happily shoot Dolokhov for his relationships with Vassily’s kids. It’s also just the general forbidden love vibes mixed with the violence vibes.

affection - BETWEEN FRIENDS

“I’m looking for affection in all the wrong places and we’ll keep falling on each other to fill the empty spaces”

Have I been clear enough about my thesis that their relationship is based in mutual loneliness? Also, I like the acknowledgment that this is in fact the wrong place. I think they’re both very aware of that.

Walk Away - Franz Ferdinand

“Yes I’m cold but not as cold as you are”

This song is for them post-duel. Especially the “I cannot stand to see those eyes as apologies may rise/I must be strong, stay an unbeliever” because 1) I hear the word eyes, I think of Dolokhov and 2) I think she’s too smart to believe any apology he would give her, she knows he doesn’t really mean it. The song kinda reads as someone trying to convince themselves they’re happy that the relationship is over, which I think is definitely what happens for both of them.

Van Horn - Saint Motel

“Tell me do you hate me? Or do you wanna date me?”

Obsessed with the dynamic of “I like you but that’s embarrassing for both of us I’m gonna act like I hate you instead”

#war and peace #helene kuragina #fedya dolokhov #my post #w&p playlists #helenkhov #is that their ship name??? idk #someone tell me what it is ill owe u my life

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dragonswithjetpacks · 4 years ago

Text

Theurgist

Chapter Five: A Quick Laugh at Death

-dragonswithjetpacks

Notes: I am so sorry it took so long. I had a busy week last week and was gone all weekend. I got really tired of trying to right this chapter so I am sorry if it seems rushed and choppy. I mainly just wanted the quirky bits. And I have so many things already pre-written I'd like to get to. Including the temple. And then tying in the bite scene later on.

Read here on Ao3

Ferelith looked down into the reflection of the water, examining the dried blood on the side of her face. A small shard of anger slithered into her thoughts when she thought about the creature from the crash. The worm was trying to fight it, but the twirling shadow had clouded it’s thoughts. Her patron was still there, protecting her the best he could. But he would not speak. Ferelith looked up to the moon and saw it was still a few days away before she could perform the ritual to speak with him. Though there was always the option to try. She sighed, setting her gloves to the side to wipe them off later and she dipped her hands into the water. As she began to wipe off her face, Gale had approached her.

“If you don’t mind, I’d like a word once we’ve settled in for the night,” he said.

“If this is about what happened earlier,” she rose to her feet, “then I assure you I’m quite alright.”

“Actually, no,” he paused as he turned. “But I’m glad to see you’re feeling a bit more like yourself.”

A swift breeze pulled her hair into her face, but she was quick to tuck it behind her ear. Gale watched her eyes closely, but saw nothing peculiar within them. They were just as they always had been. Pale yellow with nothing of importance gleaming inside. No hint of anger or excitement. Just simply mindful and content. And the lingering dark essence he had sensed before disappeared. There was just Ferelith with her pale skin and dark hair holding her arms against her chest to brace herself against the cold wind of the river.

“You know,” she said, squeezing her arms. “I’ve met many wizards in my travels. Have you… met many warlocks?”

“A few,” he nodded.

“What were they like?”

Gale paused for a moment. A warlock was unlike a wizard in the sense of how they obtained their power. A wizard was impatient, in most cases. They desired power, but that wasn’t any different than any one else. What separated a warlock was the means in which they obtained that power and what sort of desire drove them. It varied upon the person. And when he looked at Ferelith, the quiet woman who cradled the apron with her books and her singed quill, he did not see a desire for power. He saw a woman with secrets. A woman blanketed by a protective shadow. He took a deep breath.

“Nothing like yourself,” he smiled at her in adoration.

Her eyes, once cold and gazing lost across the river came round to acknowledge the compliment of her companion. He caught the reflection of gratitude within them and knew her smile to be true.

“That’s very kind of you to say,” she looked back out to the water. “It even makes me sound a bit dangerous. But I’ll take the ambiguity as a compliment.”

“I simply don’t know enough about you to say otherwise,” he attempted to correct his statement.

“I appreciate your honesty,” she let a little sigh slip through, leading Gale to believe she was finished with his company. “For the record… you’re one of the kindest wizards I’ve ever met.”

“I do try… my lady.”

“Alright enough flattery,” she waved her hand slightly as he left her line of sight, her gaze still focused on the rolling stream in front of her. “I’ll see you later.”

His footsteps faded out, only to be replaced by another. Ferelith glanced up at the sky, realizing they had a few hours of daylight left before she could retire. There was still much to be done, but she had a sudden urge to be alone. Whoever it was behind her, they were in no rush. And she wondered how long she could stay silent before they urged her to speak.

“The breeze will just get colder as the sun goes down,” she said eyeing the colors shifting as the sun set. “It will draw me closer to the fire. Soon enough.”

“Take your time,” a male’s voice startled her.

Ferelith turned, seeing Astarion with his newly gifted bow strapped to his back, a few crude arrows in his hand.

“Oh, I though you were- well, it doesn’t matter…”

“I was just leaving,” he stated, glancing back to the rest of their party gathering around the pit as Gale prepared a fire.

“And you’re, what? Taking requests?” she smirked over her shoulder.

“I’m afraid the prime rib will be unavailable tonight,” he shifted his weight to his other foot. “But, in order to make up for it, I’ve offered a few bolts to your collection.”

Ferelith lowered her arms, granting him her full attention. “To my what?”

“The village coward dropped his quiver. There were a few arrows in there a bit too short to be considered an arrow. I tossed them onto you bedroll.”

“Oh… thank you.”

“Don’t thank me yet. At the quality they appear to be in, they could have just been poorly made arrows that couldn’t be used by a proper bow,” he cringed. “They might just snap straight in half.”

“Right,” she nodded, admitting that her thoughts were lost on him.

Astarion could see her drifting back out into the open evening, eyes faded into a distant plane. After what he had witnessed of her earlier that day, he had expected a change to her behavior at camp. The outburst to him meant a reveal of character. Not this reclusive woman who was lost in thought. While Ferelith had been a mostly quiet person from the beginning, there were still those snarky comments between he had rather enjoyed. This was simply just disappointing. She did not even bother to send him away as he turned to leave.

***********************************************************

After an evening delegating a very passive aggressive discussion between Shadowheart and Lae’zel over what she would consider dinner, Ferelith was forced to resist the urge to turn in for the night. Her head had been pounding, likely a side affect of the illithid’s mental damage from before. Still, she had agreed to have a moment with Gale. And least with him, she knew half of what to expect. That included walking up to see him observing his own double.

“Be with you in a moment,” his voice echoed.

His attention never left the mirror image, his eyes focused upon his own face. Ferelith snorted a bit, rolling her eyes with a sigh as she glanced around for something else to keep her occupied. She allowed him a few more seconds before she grew impatient.

“Is there a reason you’re studying your own image?”

Gale turned, a smirk shot at her to acknowledge the teasing tone.

“Indulging in a spot of vanity. Handsome devil, aren’t I?” he spun around with a wave of his, causing the image to vanish. “Be that as it may.”

It slowly fizzled down to a few sparks. He folded his hands behind his back, very much in the estute sort of way she would have imagine. His brow lowered and she could feel the tone shifting to a more serious manner. Though, she felt she had enough of it that day.

“Ceremorphosis. What does it make you think of?”

“The tadpole,” she answered, knowing it was what he expected.

Still, he responded with utmost enthusiasm.

“Spot on,” he winked. “Day one: fever and memory loss. Day two: hallucinations and graying skin. Day three: hair loss and blood leaking from all orifices. Need I go on?”

“By all means,” she nodded.

“Day four: excruciating pain as the skeleton and organs reform and reposition. Day five: the host's personality has disappeared. Fingers, toes, and limbs elongate,” he became a bit aggravated as a small chuckle fell from her lips. “I take it you get the picture.”

“I’ve already committed to the lesson, Gale,” she grinned. “Might as well get my money’s worth.”

“Day six,” he lowered his brow, clearly not humored by her sarcasm, “The flesh around the mouth splits to make way for tentacles. Day seven: a mind flayer is born. This is the most annotated version, of course.”

“What you’re saying,” she shifted with crossed arms, “is that I can at least keep my sense of humor until the fifth day? I’d say we only have another night’s worth of laughs, Gale.”

“I’m glad your coping mechanism consists of deflecting the seriousness of this problem with jokes,” he replied.

“You’re no fun tonight,” she tilted her head to the side. “But no worries. We’re two days in. We should have clearly turned gray by now.”

“Spot on again,” he flicked a finger at her. “Orifices remain blissfully unbloodied. Our heads remain clear, and our blood temperature is normal. Any expert will agree: this is… abnormal.”

“Don’t question it so much,” she shrugged. “In all my existence, the only reason I owe my life to anything is because of the abnormal. I’m just lucky to be alive.”

“I’ll toast to that,” he smiled uneasily with a hint of intrigue. “The pragmatic in me, however, sees only the silence before the storm. Something to sleep on. We should get some rest.”

“Thank you for leaving me with that imagery,” she gave a slight nod. “I’m sure it will soothe me as I mediate tonight. Good night, Gale.”

“I’m only here to help,” he gave a half solute.

Ferelith grinned, waving her hand slightly to bid farewell as she retreated to her bedroll. They had acquired a few extra blankets. And she was lucky enough to procure an additional pillow. Leaning against her new luxurious cot was her pack, waiting patiently for her hands to dive into it. And standing directly across it from the fire, just as he was the night before, was Astarion. He seemed to be waiting as patiently as her pack.

“I saw you getting a lecture from our magical friend,” he said the moment she glanced in his direction.

“It was quite informative,” she took a break from straightening her blanket to address him. “Descriptive, at the very least.”

“I have to say,” he said leaning forward with narrowed eyes. “I thought you’d look worse. But no. Not a tentacle in sight.”

“Thank you?” she pulled back, turning a shoulder to him. “I’m hoping it will stay that way.”

“Naturally,” he rose a brow. “But I was thinking… what if it doesn’t?”

Ferelith had thought about what would happen if she did change. But the ever growing stubbornness inside her made her truly believe it would never happen. She was not willing to believe it. Nor was she willing to admit to anyone else that it was a possibility. He let the sentiment settle with her for a moment. Though he could see it had little impact. The blank stare with a slow blink signaled him to proceed.

“Of course,” he went on, tilting his chin to the side with a gleam in his eye, “first sign of change and I’ll have to stop that pretty little heart of yours.”

He almost seemed too excited at the thought of putting her down. Like a wild animal. She crossed her arms, as if to guard her chest from his stare. It did not matter, he could hear the sound of her pounding heart. And it had only grown louder from his statement.

“I am open to suggestions. Knives, poison, strangulation – whatever you’d prefer.”

“I’d prefer not to die,” she said dully.

“Well now you’re just being closed-minded,” he teased. “There are some lovely ways to go.”

“First I listen to Gale talk about the details of turning into a terrifying monster and now you’re telling me all the options I have in which you could kill me? Whoever said chivalry was dead must have no taste for macabre.”

“To be fair, you were the one that pushed the wizard to give those wonderful details. I am giving you these options as a gift.”

“I am ever so grateful. Do go on about the beautiful ways in which I can ensue death,” she opened her arms, flicking her wrists in a manner as if she were receiving the said gift he spoke of.

“You know, I watched urchins freeze to death on the street. It looks peaceful – just like falling asleep.”

“Very poetic… I wonder if drowning feels the same.”

“Ha!” his shoulders fell back as he lifted his head with laughter. “Oh, come on. Humor me. If you had to choose…”

“Fine,” she took a deep breath with a few seconds of thought. “I suppose a knife. Straight to the chest. That seems quick.”

“A classic,” he nodded with approval. “One good thrust to the heart and you’re gone. We need a good blade, of course. Don’t want to waste time hacking and prodding with a dinner half.”

It was the first time in a long time it had happened. The welling feeling in her chest. The tightening of her cheeks. The widening of the eyes. The burst of air from her mouths as her voice let out a loud series of rhythmic laughter. It caught her off guard. So much that she covered her mouth, leaning forward, and looking to Astarion with surprise. She rose her brows in disbelief that he had truly made her laugh.

“Well,” he said, leaning forward toward her like they were a couple of children cackling in school, “I’m getting ahead of myself. This is all a worst case scenario, obviously.”

“You’re terrible,” she giggled, lurching forward with one last tit of laughter. “What about you? Is there any way you’d like for me to end your life?”

“Oh, my dear,” he said with a condescending tone. “I’d like to see you try.”

Ferelith reared back, a bit offended that he held himself so much higher than herself. But she knew he was only testing her. Pushing her to see what sort of outcome he could obtain by doubting her strength.

“Dealer’s choice then,” she said firmly. “I’ll make sure it’s a lovely surprise.”

“Somehow, I don’t think you’ll disappoint me,” it was meant to be a positive reinforcement, but the way he said it still made it sound more like a threat. “Now, enough of this talk. Let’s get some rest. The sooner we start tomorrow, the better our chances of keeping this hypothetical.”

“I take it you’re joining us to the tiefling camp, then?”

“Of course, darling,” he replied. “I’ll go wherever you lead.”

“I’d be careful with those words,” she said darkly. “You’ll never know what path I’ll lead you toward.”

“Even better.”

She shook her head at his advancements with a foolish smirk she could not hide. “Good night, Astarion.”

“Good night, Ferelith.”

************************************************************

The next day brought a heavy fog over the camp, dampening both their supplies and their spirits. Ferelith could smell the moisture in the air and knew it would lift as the sun rose. And sure enough, the moment they began to snack on their morning rations they could see a bit of orange illuminating the sky. Their pace quickened and they got to their feet, ready to begin to their journey into a new part of the forsaken land they had been thrown into. The human, the gith, and the two elves made their way out of camp, leaving Shadowheart to sulk to herself as they had agreed to take Lae’zel to question the tieflings and seek further assistance for themselves against her wishes. Though Ferelith had promised the temple would come soon, as she had an interest in what laid within it herself.

The path was quite clear to the camp. And Ferelith wondered how they had missed it so easily before. Or perhaps, they had been far too occupied with their troubles and each other to pay attention to path carved among the rocks. She kicked at the dirt, still a bit dry despite the wet morning, and looked up to the back of her companion who was the only one who managed to sustain any of the information the tieflings had given before. He stopped for a moment, glancing behind him to smile at her, then looking to the others.

“I think we should take a moment to really prepare ourselves for this camp,” he said with an overthought of wishful thinking. “Our main goal is information. We don’t want to overwhelm them.”

“It’ll be fine, Gale,” Ferelith stated, slinging her pack over her shoulder. “We’re only asking a few questions. Getting supplies. There won’t be enough time to do any real damage.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Gale whispered slightly to himself with a shrug. “I can think of a few things that could go wrong.”

She ignored him, rummaging through the items in her pack until she felt the cold texture of leather beneath her fingertips. Pulling them out, she gave them one good look before she turned Astarion.

“Here,” she handed him brown leather folded neatly to show the string tied at the top around the collar.

He took them, a bit disgruntled but willingly. Though he wasn’t sure what she expected him to do as she kept searching through the pack.

“Am I supposed to hold onto these?”

“Put them on,” she directed, otherwise paying no mind.

“Right now?” he dipped his head low as he questioned her, staring her in the eyes while waiting for her acknowledgment.

“Yes, right now,” she finally turned to look at him but only for a moment. “You’ve been wearing the same city clothes for days. You should put on some actual leather. One, because it’s more useful. And two, so you don’t look like a complete lost cause.”

“I’m going to pretend you didn’t say that last part because this is a very expensive doublet. And this blouse is of the finest threads in Baldur’s Gate.”

“I’m sure,” she grinned lovingly, looking back down into her pack.

Astarion tossed his new leather armor to the side to free his hands. He began to work on his doublet right away. It was already sliding down his arms when Ferelith looked up, catching the back of him in just his white shirt. He looked… nice. It almost made him feel more humble than he really was. Or at least, more approachable. His hands came up, his fingers loosening the collar. Still facing the rock, he pulled the shirt up and her eyes widened as he lifted it. His back flexed and his hands grasped the bottom of his shirt as he pulled it over. She swallowed… hard… as he turned around. What she had assumed was the doublet in all its puffed out glory… had been the actual thickness of the man’s chest. He was lean, but he far from frail. Seeing it off was a revelation and normally she would have felt annoyed at being so wrong about someone’s character. She inhaled a heavy dose of air, holding it for a few moments as she let her eyes wander. He shook the leather tunic out and she admired the muscle in his forearm tensing as he did. Slowly, she exhaled, observing him turn around with his arms raised trying to pull down the armor. She counted each curve of his abdomen with a small smile. Then, nodding with a bit of appreciation, she looked back down into her bag.

“Well, you certainly have no shame,” Gale nudged her.

“What?” she shrugged with a coy smile. “I’m in the wilderness. My eyes get hungry, too.”

“Careful. Some of the tastiest looking berries are the most poisonous.”

“Better than death by ceremorphosis.”

******************************************************

The back of Zevlor whisked away, his tail thrashed back and forth with irritation as he left. There was something about a tiefling that left an excitement behind for Ferelith. Like a small trail of flame. She breathed a heavy sigh, knowing that the flames would grow larger the longer she stared at them. After all, she had just witnessed them in battle. Turning to her comrades, she noticed a slight irritation within their faces.

“What are we messengers, now?” Astarion seemed particularly the worst.

Ferelith stepped close to him, too close for comfort. It made him shift backward, which is exactly what she wanted. He took several steps back just so she could hiss at him out of hearing range of anyone else. She kept her head down as she spoke.

“Listen, we keep all options open. There’s no agreeing. No disagreeing. If we’re stuck here, we best leave all doors open in case we need a way out. That means seeing what we can do about the druids.”

“Ah, I understand, now,” he said, his chest still out further than than his chin to keep her at bay. “This is the sort of thing we should have discussed before our arrival rather than my appearance.”

Ferelith blinked, her eyes gliding up toward him. “I didn’t expect you to complain in front of the whole sodding camp after watching one of them take an arrow to the chest.”

“Like it makes a difference? They’re all going to die anyway.”

Ferelith crossed her arms, her fingers tapping against her forearm. “If we’re not careful, we’ll die too.”

“Fine, fine,” he waved his hand.

“If you’re done,” Gale interrupted. “I believe there’s a merchant just down the hill.”

She gave him one last warning glance before she turned to the direction Gale was pointing. There was a small set up just on the edge of the camp beneath a stretch of a rock archway. It was a grand entrance, nothing at all comparable to a refugee camp. They followed the trail down, glancing further into it and noticing the make shift buildings and rails along the sides. They seemed misplaced to her. Even the shop they approached looked more like a scatter array of things more than any kind of marketplace.

“Refugees… adventurers. No one in years. And suddenly, we’re overwhelmed. Well me,” he greeted them begrudgingly. “Thank you for beating back those goblins. Most brave of you.”

“I do what I can,” she shrugged, not feeling quite worthy of his gratitude just yet.

“Is there anything you need? Act fast if you do. The ritual will be complete before too long.”

“I do,” she paused, observing Astarion round the display. “We’re a bit short on supplies. But we do have a bit of coin. Are they really locking down the grove? I was hoping to rely on the business here for a short time.”

“I know it’s drastic, but more monsters seem to terrorize this region every day.”

“And the tieflings?”

“We druids will be safe-”

The sound of the merchant drowned as she became distracted by Astarion looking through the array of weaponry. She watched as he ran his fingers over the blades along the table, glancing at her with a mischievous smirk. Her eyes shifted back to the vendor, trying to pay attention as best she could. But she kept wandering back to the rogue. He held up a knife, displaying it for her with a raised brow. She shook her head slightly. But he ignored her, giving the air a few jabs and shrugging, setting it back down with a frown. The next one he picked up, waving a hand down in it like it were a grand prize. She swallowed the lump forming to stop herself from bursting with laughter. It did not work and she was forced to clear her throat rather loudly.

“It sounds like these are dire times,” she blinked to regain her focus.

“You sound just like Khaga.”

“Are these the only weapons for sale?” Astarion interrupted, setting down the knife he was holding with a loud thud.

“These are the only ones I am selling,” he lowered his brow. “There’s a blacksmith further into the camp. Though I’m not sure he has much to offer.”

“Thank you,” Ferelith said loud enough to draw his attention back. “Here’s what I have for… oh, I think a few potions will do.”

“Of course.”

She passed Gale the bottles as they were handed to her who began to slip them into the back of her pack. Astarion had lost interest in the wares and moved back to Lae’zel who was impatiently waiting behind them. Her stare was into the gorge, examining the tieflings as if she were able to spot the one with the information she needed. Ferelith was certain she would have already caused chaos if they were not with her. As she turned around, she could hear Astarion grumbling into her ear.

“Things are about to get a lot more dire with those sad excuses for weapons.”

“You’re going to get us kicked out,” she said as she brushed by the two of them. “Let’s find the blacksmith. Find the lead. And get out.”

“Is the blacksmith necessary?” the gith rolled her eyes.

“Yes,” Ferelith said firmly. “I’ve only got two bolts for my crossbow. The ones Astarion found are useless.”

“I warned you,” he shrugged.

“A snapped bolt could have meant my death.”

“It wouldn’t have been my first attempt to kill you.”

“Nor the last,” she said over her shoulder as she trailed further down into the camp.

#astarion #astarion x pc #astarion x mc #astarion x ferelith #astarion fic #ferelith #ferelith moonshade #medium burn #ferelith writing tag #dwjp writing tag

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osita-iza · 4 years ago

Text

Tadashi Yamaguchi: Notes Along the Pages

Summary: Tadashi falls for the bookworm he’s friends with in class. He decides the best way to confess is to leave you notes in one of your favorite books.

Word Count: 2.5 k

Warnings: Vague spoilers for Jane Eyre lol

A/n: Self-indulgent fluff of someone who enjoyed English class

A hopeless romantic is a person who holds sentimental and idealistic views on love, especially in spite of experience, evidence, or exhortations otherwise.

Tadashi was one of the first people you became friends with in secondary school. Most people’s eyes would begin to glaze over after two minutes of you raving over books, which was one of your favorite activities. Not Tadashi’s though. Even if he didn’t know any of the characters or plot points, he would nod excitedly as you ranted over how the main character needed to grow a backbone or how the heroine was blind to the love interest’s advances. That was the foundation for your friendship that continued all through to third year.

That’s why you didn’t question him when he handed you a copy of Jane Eyre, one of your favorite books. He was blushing more than usual, but you knew he could sometimes overthink things and be embarrassed. He had listened to you rave about every aspect of the book for years at this point, and you had borrowed it from the library countless times. “I actually read it,” he muttered. His cheeks burned brighter when your eyes shined as you took in the book. “It was as good as you said it was,”

“I told you!” You pulled him into a hug. “But you really didn’t have to buy me this Tadashi. This is so sweet,”

He shrugged, and you didn’t notice how his eyes softened at your excitement. “I figured you’ve read it so many times, you need your own copy at this point. Plus, it’s a classic, so it really didn’t cost that much,”

You two continued on to class like normal. At lunch, you decided to go to the library to read, a common habit for you. You smiled to yourself as you cracked open the spine. You were almost completely alone, the only companions being students doing homework at the library’s computers. On the first page, a sticky note greeted you.

This was one of the first books you talked to me about in first year, and I actually bought this that year. You complained about some of what Rochester did, but that you knew that he needed to fall in love with Jane. I remember I could feel the love you had for this book and its characters, and I just wanted to experience that too. I wanted to see what it was about this book that made you love it so much. What was so special?

Then I read the book. While it is an amazing book, I did realize something.

You were what was special.

Your chest felt tight as you finished reading the sticky note. His writing was tiny and scrunched up together, something you always teased him about how difficult it was to read at times. As if he was so shy even his writing was trying to hide. You remembered how he listened to your overenthusiastic ramblings about the budding romance between Rochester and Jane. He was the first one who did, only one in fact.

Without hesitation, you skipped through pages until you reached another sticky note. It was the scene where Jane met her best friend, Helen; the bright sticky note staring back against the black print.

Okay I just finished this section and why didn’t you tell me what happens to Helen?!!! That really hurt.

I get why you love Helen so much though. She’s so calm and peaceful. She’s an angel, kind of like you. Even though it was her comforting Jane, I kept imagining your face.

I remember when we first met. Don’t tell Tsukishima, but I was terrified of going into high school. There were so many new people, and rules, and things I had to remember. Tsukishima was the only person I knew from my middle school that came to Karasuno, so I was worried about feeling like an outcast.

And then I got assigned to sit next to you for my first class. I don’t know what stars aligned for that to happen, but I’m really happy that it did. You were so excited that someone would listen to you about a book that you weren’t disappointed when I didn’t know how to respond. I never said it, but I could listen to you talk about books all day. You get so excited; it’s like you’re a battery and I get some of your energy when you do. When I was upset cause I was a coward, you told me that my shyness was cute to you. That me being quiet meant that I had more time to understand people on a deeper level before I spoke. Doesn’t mean I don’t still feel like a coward sometimes, but I always hear your voice reminding me I’m not when I do. You were my Helen.

There was a bright smile on your face as you reread the sticky note’s sloppy writing on the front and back. You remembered that day too. He had been tense in the seat next to you, and you chose to ignore him until you saw him trying to catch the title of the book you were reading. That observation sparked the strong friendship between the two of you- one that transcended summer breaks, finals, and different schedules. It bloomed into trips to the mall, late night phone calls, and studying with each other on the weekend.

Skipping through the pages, there were more and more annotations. Comments on the amazing writing, the “expensive” words the author used that he had to look up, and the amazing romance between your favorite characters. You made a note to go back through and read all of them later on. Right now, you were focused on finding more of these sticky notes.

The next sticky note was during the proposal scene between Jane and Rochester, when they admitted that they loved each other. Large sticky notes that covered almost the entirety of the page were placed there.

One time I asked you why you liked reading romance books so much, especially because you didn’t watch a lot of romance movies. I was walking you back home from the library because it was dark. You got this dazed look in your eye when I asked you. I wonder if you remember what you said...

You did.

You told me, in books, the author can’t rely on swelling music, or a pretty face, or fancy camerawork to make you believe two people are in love. They can only use words. You said that people were forced to use their words, and that reading it was so sweet and intimate, and you loved it. That the idea of someone thinking you’re as beautiful of the stars sooooo strongly that they have to tell you- that they’ll explode if you don’t know- was one of the most passionate and romantic things you could imagine.

You said you couldn’t imagine someone doing that for you, but the idea was really sweet. Ever since I heard you say that, I realized that the idea of you not getting that left a bad taste in my mouth. Because, god, you really deserve it.

You let out a shaky breath as you reread his words over and over again. Tadashi had never hinted that he felt that strongly about you. It felt nice that he thought of you so often, that your conversations replayed as much in his head as they did in yours. That he cared about you a lot, and he needed you to know that.

Your nerves were going crazy as you imagined Tadashi’s face. His smile and burning cheeks was one of the cutest things you had seen in your life. He was one of the cutest things you had seen in your life. You wondered what his smile would be like when you saw him next. Would his cheeks burn that beautiful rosy pink when he saw you holding the book?

You skimmed the pages, some having doodles in the margin, and you got to a page that had one of Jane and St. John’s conversations on it when you saw another sticky note. You giggled at the first line:

He is one of the worst people I’ve ever read about >:(

I understand every single rant you went on about him. I still don’t think that I fully understand everything you said about him because you talked a lot about history and Victorian patriarchy, and it’s sometimes hard to keep up, especially because when you get excited you talk really fast.

I love when you talk like that. Even if I never understand what you’re talking about ever again, I want you to keep talking to me like that. You look so cute and passionate about it. Your voice sometimes goes to a higher pitch too, god, I love it when you do that. It’s the best thing I’ve ever heard.

You skipped ahead, catching him comment ‘Thank god’ next to the sentence where Jane decided to go back to Thornfield. It made you smile, happy that he got excited by the plot too.

The amount of annotations increased, but the comments got smaller and smaller throughout the rest of the book. You were somewhat disappointed until you got to the last chapter. The only visible line was “Reader, I married him.” The rest of the book’s page was covered by a piece of notebook paper that was taped to it, folded up to fit inside the book’s cover.

Okay, so I saw this book at a bookstore first-year. I bought it, read it, and I planned to give it to you and ask you out at the same time. Obviously, that didn’t happen. I was too shy to give it to you, so instead it built up dust in my bedroom. Then, you said that you never 8thought you would get to experience all of the stuff that happened in your books.

And I didn’t know how to respond because whenever I read a line that would be considered romantic in this book, or any book, I always thought of you. All of the love songs, rom-coms, books, and cliches became about you. I understood all of those deep metaphors English teachers tried to get me to care about because I happened to sit next to you in class. So I’ll be completely honest with you and all of the ways that I’ve unknowingly found myself romanticizing you.

In simplest terms, you’re existence is pure poetry.

Sometimes you would wait for us after practice, and the sunset would come down and reflect off of you in the best way. You’re usually on your phone or reading a book. There’s a moment before you notice that we’re outside, and you’re completely at peace. I think I fall in love with you every time I see the light reflect off of your peaceful face. I wish I was an artist just so I could paint that picture over and over again.

Your voice is like music, whether you’re whispering snide comments to me in the middle of class, or ugly singing to songs when we’re alone, or ranting about how amazing the couple you’re reading about is. If I had to give up music or listening to your voice, I would give up every song in the world in a heartbeat.

I’ve spent so much time getting to know you, and I don’t think I could ever associate you with disappointment. All I want is to keep learning about you because there’s always something new to learn. Everything about you, from your personality, to how you speak, to that face that must have been sculpted is just captivating to me. You’re being is a museum dedicated to you, and loving you is getting the chance to explore just a corner of the museum. If it were up to me, I would spend everyday for the rest of my life trying to explore the rest of the art that is you.

Honestly, I think I’ve been in love with you ever since first-year; it just took me a long time to figure out how to verbalize it. Even if you don’t feel the same way, I need you to know that someone has loved you that much. I love you that much.

Folding the paper back up, you checked your phone, seeing that there wasn’t that much time left in lunch. You wanted to see Tadashi, but what were you supposed to say to that kind of confession? There was an intense energy in your body, but you had no idea how to utilize it.

You grabbed the book and your backpack, knowing Tadashi was likely at lunch with some of the other volleyball boys. As you stepped into the cafeteria, heart hammering against your chest, you saw him laughing along with his friends. He glanced over to where you were, as if he could feel your presence.

His cheeks immediately began to burn pink, and he said something to his friends before leaving the table and walking towards you. All of his friends turned their heads to look at you as Tadashi stepped in front of you. “So... did you read the stuff I wrote?” he mumbled. His eyes avoiding yours.

“Yeah, I did...” You began running your finger up and down the pages of the book in your hands, sometimes catching a sticky note that was sticking out of the side.

Tadashi nodded, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’m sorry if any of it made you uncomfortable I just want-”

“Are you free Saturday?” His eyes widened, and he stared at you for a couple of moments. You let out a stilted laughter at his silence. “So... is that a yes?”

“Yes!” Tadashi said, cringing when he realized how loud his response was. “I mean... of course.”

You nodded, not knowing what else to say. He looked so adorable right now. You wanted to pull him into your arms, tell him how beautiful you thought he was, how you had been staring at him for just as long, how you loved everything about him.

The bell rang before you could though. Plus, you weren’t sure if you had the courage to say all of those things to him in the moment. You settled for grabbing his wrist to pull him closer to you. Tadashi furrowed his eyebrows at your action before his face somehow turned redder as you pressed your lips to his cheek. “I think you’re poetry too, Tadashi,” you whispered.

His body felt like jelly as you said his name. A soft smile came across his face as you leaned back. “I’m glad I told you then,” he said.

You giggled before holding up the copy of Jane Eyre. “I am definitely keeping this,” you replied.

“Not too cheesy?”

“Never worry about being too cheesy with me,” you giggled before you stepped away from him. “I’ll see you Saturday.”

He nodded, watching you hold the book close to your chest, as if you needed it to remind you of all of the words he wrote. And Yamaguchi promised himself that he would remind you of those words himself at every opportunity he would get.

#tadashi yamaguchi imagines #haikyuu imagines #tadashi yanaguchi imagine #haikyuu imagine #tadashi yamaguchi x reader #haikyuu x reader

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pebblysand · 4 years ago

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OF CRYSTAL ROSES (EXTENDED AUTHOR’S NOTE OF CHAPTER VI. OF CASTLES)

-- TO READ THE CHAPTER ITSELF, SEE HERE ON AO3 --

well, well, well. here we are. spoiler alert, gryffindors make plans they don’t stick to, lolz. all the good intentions in the world, i had. study, i said i would. yet, here were find ourselves, eighteen thousand words later. this appears to be how i roll. slept about five hours last night, too, so apologies if i’m slightly non-sensical/rambly. this chapter ought to be sponsored by deliveroo and teapigs tea, a brand of tea that appeared in my local supermarket a few moths ago and that i steadily refused to buy because - can tea really be worth this much? low and behold, once you’ve tried it once, it appears to be addictive. i’ve, while writing this chapter, worked my way through about four packs of their different teas - they are just this good. i have a job interview tomorrow so wish me luck in gaining employment which will hopefully fund my expensive habits.

now, before we get into the nitty gritty of the chapter, itself, i just needed to say this: i cannot thank everyone enough for the incredible response on last chapter. i’d kind of grown accustomed to getting a couple of reviews for each of them and to writing in my little corner of the internet but boy, you guys are bloody legends! i am so overwhelmed with gratitude for everyone who commented, kudo-ed and generally gave love to this fic in general. i really didn’t expect such a response and it’s meant the world to me. i think it’s probably also the reason why i’m posting so early because i kept being like, god, i can’t leave this many people waiting in this cliffhanger hell. i think this chapter ends on a more positive note (although, i’ll let you judge), one that might be more conducive of a few weeks’ wait (more on that below), haha.

this being said, as i explained on here before, i come from very tiny fandoms where basically everyone knows each other and the number of people reading would usually fit in my flat. the fact that over 80 people are now subscribed to this fic just blows my fucking mind. you’re all magnificent and i love you. i try to respond to all the comments so let’s keep chatting if you feel like it (although, no pressure - comment if you want to, but do know that it makes me very happy when you do :)). you’re all fabulous and i wish you all the best!

anyway, spoilers for castles, chapter vi under the cut.

guys, guys, guys, i am so tired. i’ve spent four days editing almost 20,000 words and my brain is fried. but, we are officially at the halfway point of this story, yaaaay!!! my plan, at this point, is that we’ll have six chapters on each side but even if i do end up splitting this one later (more on this below) i’ll end up with seven chapters on each side so either way - yay to the end of act 1!

i think that’s also why i tried to turn this chapter around this quickly. to me, i always kind of saw this fic as having two parts. part 1: the immediate post-war aftermath with the heartache and the love-fast/burn-fast start to harry/ginny. part 2: a slow and actually healthy rebuild of their relationship, and of the world around them. i have genuinely been writing towards that last harry/ginny scene in this chapter for months. it feels like such a relief to finally have that weight off my shoulders. and i actually do think it’ll allow me to focus on study later. act one is finished, and act two can wait a bit, i suppose.

now, obviously, given that i already apologised last time, part of me still wants to apologise for the length of this chapter, even more so, actually. it sits at about 18,000 words which, by nanowrimo’s standards, is over a third of a full book, wtf. yet, you guys also said last time that you didn’t actually mind long chapters, so perhaps i shouldn’t beat myself up too much?

as i said in the a/n, this is a little bit of different set up than chapter v. though. i know exactly where to split this. as you’ve probably seen by now, there’s a very natural split point after harry has his breakdown on the couch with ginny, before Christmas properly "starts." the reason i didn’t split this one there, though is: a) selfish: i needed to get this out. stop working on it. i need to study. when it’s out, i’m not thinking about it anymore. it would have been a bit non sensical to split this just for the sake of it and post two chapters at once, which means i probably would have held onto the second part for another couple of weeks, and fuck that. additionally, b) you may not have noticed this but: the chapter titles rhyme. why did i bring this additional difficulty upon myself, i do not fucking know. especially because i will soon run out of one-word construction materials to draw from, lol. as a result, though, i need an even number of chapters to close out this story and because i’m sort of planning six chapters from now to the end (more on that below) i can’t really split this one right now. like, if i end up with another overlong chapter in the next few months, i probably will take that opportunity and go back and split this one, just for readability. but at this stage, at this stage, because i don’t know how many chapters i’ll have for act two (six or seven), i’m keeping this chapter like this for the time being. i kind of hope i end up with seven chapters on the other side and am able to split this one down the line, but we will see. in the meantime, my most sincere apologies to the folks who read fanfiction before bed and it’s now 4 am by the time you’ve finished this. i’ve been there before, believe me.

from a personal standpoint, though, i have to say, this chapter (compared to the last one) was incredibly easy to write. i think i’d spent so much time imagining and writing these scenes in my head as kind of a culminating point for the first half of the story, that it quite simply poured out. i did have a little bit of an everything is shit crisis yesterday and today, but sure look, that always happens. overall, i am quite happy - i think - with the end result.

now, when i say "easy to write" i mean, technically, easy to find words to write down what was in my head. i do not mean: easy to write on an emotional level. oh boy. i’m generally not a crier. i have been asked, a number of times, by people who said my writing made them cry: do you cry when you write, too? and my answer was always ‘no’. i don’t judge, but i’m just not that kind of person. i know people who cry every day but personally, we are in the middle of a pandemic, my father recently passed away, i’ve lost my job and am studying for an exam my life is pretty dependent upon, and i haven’t cried in months. yet, i swear, there were a couple of times, both writing this and editing it, when i had to step away from the screen because i could feel a lump in my throat. that had never happened to me before. i didn’t, like, bawl or anything but god i felt it. i don’t know if it’s because it’s my first time killing an oc, someone who was really mine but boy. giulia. i kept trying to find ways not to kill her, or apologising to her. to me, she’s tom’s last victim and that really, fucking hurts. if you’re hurting too, i don’t really know what to tell you. i’m sorry, i suppose. her death was needed for … plot purposes, lol. god, i’m the worst haha.

re:harry/ginny: i must say i really like where they end up, at the end of this. i had planned this to a certain extent. i was always under the impression that they would talk over christmas, but not get back together. however, the reason why they weren’t getting back together, in my head, was initially quite different. i initially didn’t have ginny dating someone else. i think i mentioned i was toying with the idea in the a/n for last chapter, but at the time i wasn’t truly sold on it. then, i ended up writing the scene i’d originally planned for them and it didn’t quite fit. what i’d planned, at the time, felt rather ooc for ginny when actually on paper. on the other hand, harry, under my fingertips, kept trying to kiss her and i kept hitting the delete button. i swear, i know it sounds weird to people who might not be writers but sometimes, your characters really do seem to have their own agendas. when i caved, let him kiss her, then the scene took on a different meaning, and, i hope, a better one. i think something clicked there and it feels like a good place for act one to end. obviously, they’ll get back together cause this follows cannon so you know, not much suspense there. it’s more about the how than the what, to me.

re:ginny’s letters: this idea came to me a while ago, actually. i was thinking that they’d need to talk about what happened last year, but i was kind of struggling on the how. having character a tell a story to character b is always a bit difficult, in writing, because it can quickly end up being boring. like, when ginny tells harry about christmas last year and lupin, in this chapter, telling that in dialogue is already rather long an laborious, and it’s overall such a short story. for harry, it’s easy. i’m in his head so he can just say ‘he told her about the hallows’ and the dialogue can be about their reaction, rather than the events itself. but ginny, she needs to share facts, as well as feelings. and doing that through long monologues just didn’t appeal. first, it’s quickly boring and second, it’s also kind of ooc. she’s not giulia, you see.

i did entertain the idea of completely skimming past it. ‘she told him about last year and he was horrified.’ - moving on. but, i don’t know, that didn’t feel quite right either, because i think they need to exchange, and talk, and that just felt like a copout. also, to be honest, it’s a very difficult story to tell. like, i’ve seen people in fics being like ‘so, harry sat down all of the weasleys and told them everything the trio did in seventh year,’ and i’m like that’s so difficult, though. sitting someone down and telling them all about your trauma, with little preamble, just setting it all out there, i can’t imagine ginny (or, frankly, most people) actually doing that, you know? we reveal bits of ourselves bit by bit, not all at once.

then, it hit me: she’s a writer, isn’t she? at least, she is canonically in first year, with not only the diary but also the poems, then writing for the prophet. obviously, the diary thing would have riled her up a bit but i do think in the end, she would probably have been like: no, i won’t let him take writing away from me, you know? so yeah, letters. daily letters. you won’t see all of them in next chapter, but probably quotes from the most important ones, things that harry reads. that’s where he gets his facts about her story last year, and then they can focus on their feelings about it. fab! something to look forward to, haha.

now, re: the future. as i said, we are entering act two. act two will gradually become more "fun" and fluffy, i suppose, but i won’t lie, we will be keeping the same happy/sad vibe that a lot of you have commented on with this fic. it exists for a reason (as i said, life is about sex, but it’s also about funerals). as i said before, this fic is, above all, an exploration of what ‘all was well’ actually means.

this being said, this isn’t an 8th year fic. there is a very specific future pov from which this fic is being narrated, and that’s in october 2027 (i know, precise). obviously i have 28 years to get through in act two so that will affect the way that the timeline is designed. it will obviously be more spread out, especially in the later chapters. this being said, while i have about a million of ideas for all the space in between and a very clear view of what the last chapter will be, the exact layout of each chapter is still slightly blurry. i haven’t sat down to put all my ideas in chronological order yet, as well as into some sort of chapter structure, which is also why i can’t really tell if it’ll be six or seven chapters in the end. all of this to say, there’s still quite a bit of work to be done.

this means that, as i said in the a/n, i don’t think you’ll get next chapter until at least, may. please don’t think that this means i’ll be abandoning this fic or anything, it’s just that i’ll be doing work you probably won’t see. i’m probably going to take the rest of march off writing to study (bar maybe a roar-series Harry&Hermione friendship one shot? maybe) then take april to plan and write as much of the next chapters i possibly can. ideally, by the end of april i can have a first draft of the whole thing. i desperately want to write as much as i can now that I’m jobless in the hopes that when i do find a job (again, interview tomorrow, pray for me), i can just have editing to do at the weekends. but we all know i relate to harry on a very deep level when he says ‘when have our plans ever worked, anyway?’ so we will see, haha.

anyway, these were all the thoughts off the top of my head, re: this chapter. if you have any questions or other things you’d like me to ramble about, feel free to send in questions, my ask box is always open. i know i probably think about this fic (and hp) way too much but i’m an extrovert and my hobbies used to include travelling, pints at the pub, dating and, well, there’s none of that anymore, is there, lol? the uk has stolen our vaccines (fucking brexit) so here’s to being obsessed with fictional worlds i wish i could live in for a while longer,

i will now go and endlessly refresh my email for reviews and kudos, like the attention seeking basic bitch i am haha.

have a fab evening, everyone!

#castles #is out baby #whoop whoop

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only-by-the-stars · 4 years ago

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the annotated Tome of the Wild

Part 7: The Wild!

- Link didn't open his eyes. A twist on the beginning of BOTW, where you hear Zelda telling Link to open his eyes. I couldn’t resist.

- Hestu’s cameo was a lot of fun to write too. I always found him adorable, first in BOTW and then in AOC as well, and the idea of him waking up Link with his maracas was too amusing not to do. I also had to include his “shimmy shimmy” battle cry from AOC because I always laugh my head off whenever I hear it.

- This also reveals that Midna brought Link to the Great Deku Tree, a character that debuted in OOT and made further appearances in WW and BOTW.

- Something tickled her arm, breaking her out of her gloomy thoughts. Midna lifted her head and looked down. New growth was sprouting from the branch she was sitting on, wriggling its way up onto her. Nothing like this happens to Beatrice in the show, but I had to put in this chilling little moment of Midna nearly succumbing to the dekuwood. It provides a way later to introduce Rhoam’s presence in his scene, as well as some horror at what could’ve happened to her here.

- Note to self: never visit Tabantha if you can help it... Tabantha, of course, being a very cold region in BOTW’s Hyrule. Link’s newfound hatred of snow mirrors my own, and now he’s going to associate it with this horrible experience.

- “It's a bad habit, I guess.” He laughed softly. He’s referring, of course, to how he casually greeted Riju and Medli back at the school pool and they gave him a bit of a hard time about it.

- “You...” Midna stared at him for several seconds, stunned. “You...” She slapped his hand away and starting swinging her tiny fists at him, which he easily dodged. “You oaf! You idiot! What the hell—what the hell is wrong with you? How can you forgive me so easily, when you're still in a shit situation because of me? Neither one of us would be out here groping around blindly in the fucking snow if not for what I did!” I set up Midna and Link to be parallels of each other in a couple ways. One of which is that while Link has isolated himself from Mipha, hurting and confusing her, Midna is on the other end of something similar with Zelda. And here we see something they both struggle with: forgiving themselves. Midna can’t understand how Link can so easily forgive her actions towards him, while Link utterly despises himself for his actions towards Mipha and cannot forgive himself for causing her pain. He’ll later struggle with the fact that Mipha forgives him easily, just as Midna is having trouble understanding his forgiveness of her here. All of them find it easier to forgive their loved ones than to grant that same grace to themselves.

- “She told me that while she appreciated how much I cared, I should think a little more and be less reckless. I know she'd never call me stupid, but...” Link shrugged. “Honestly, I kind of am.” Another reference to Mipha calling Link reckless, and how she hates seeing him get hurt. He is indeed not the smartest guy around, but she does describe him as being very kind and determined to help those in need, so I tried to emphasize that aspect of his personality in this story. Although the “I kind of am” line is also intended to be a subtle red flag. We’ve already seen that Link thinks very little of himself and his abilities, even when it’s clear from the words of others that he’s very talented. And we’re about to soon see him use a bit of intelligence he very much does have, in order to save the day. He would never believe himself capable of such a thing, but he does it anyway.

- “Even just a few branches could be processed... enough to get us through this storm...” Note the use of the plural here. This is leading up to the revelation about his belief that Zelda is in the lantern. His desperation to find more oil anywhere is because, of course, he believes that if the light goes out she will die. And he wouldn’t be in this scarcity if not for what happened back in chapter one, with Link and Aryll and the dog accidentally wrecking the mill and his oil supply.

- He was soon rewarded with a most welcome sight: a single dekuwood branch, growing out of that of a normal tree. It seemed sickly, withered, and it waved feebly in the air, but he rushed forward and hacked it off anyway. The very same branch that tried to attach itself to Midna, sickly and withered precisely because of that failure.

- And now we come to the confirmation that the dekuwood is made from the people who succumb to despair and exhaustion in the woods, right as we see it growing all around Aryll. Rhoam has been unaware this entire time of all the souls he’s sacrificed over the past several months, and now that he knows, he refuses to do it any longer. For he, like Midna, recognizes that Zelda would never want anyone to be harmed for her sake.

He’s also right that Link would never leave Aryll to such a fate, recognizing Link’s love and protectiveness towards his little sister. This is a point where my characterization of Link wildly diverges from that of Wirt, the protagonist of OTGW. I pulled some things from Wirt for Link and his arc, but one thing I didn’t keep was the resentment and initial callousness that Wirt displays for Greg, who is revealed in the tavern sequence to be his half-brother thanks to his mother remarrying, something Greg frowns at when Wirt mentions it. Aryll is also technically Link’s half-sister, as I revealed in the letters that his mother remarried some years after his father’s death and had Aryll with her new husband, but I could not for the life of me see him being resentful or unkind to his little sister. Whatever his faults, I’ve written him as being, at his core, an incredibly kind and deeply loving person, and his adoration of his sister is a part of that. He doesn’t view her as a “half” anything, she’s just his sister and he’ll do anything to protect her. Which of course is a big part of what led to his breakdown: his feelings of guilt over not doing as good a job of that as he thinks he should be doing.

- “Link, I don't... I don't think that's natural light. It looks more like...” This has a double meaning. The fire in the lantern is not the “natural light” of the sun, and it is also deeply unnatural, given that it’s the Beast’s soul in there.

- Speaking of that! The confrontation with the Beast plays out a bit differently here than it does in the show, thanks to Midna’s personal connection to all this. Rhoam’s mention of Zelda gets her attention, and the Beast uses her love for Zelda as a way to try and turn her and Link against each other with his attempt to make them choose which soul will go into the lantern. He’ll get fuel and kill Aryll either way, but why not pit these two against each other as a way to manipulate them into doing what he wants? Except it backfires, because Midna won’t harm anyone for Zelda’s sake, and Link figures out what’s going on anyway, thanks to remembering the words of Rhoam and Telma.

- Link stood up, his mind racing. It was like when the solution to a puzzle finally presented itself in a moment of stunning clarity. For all that he’s not that bright in so many ways, it’s important to remember that he’s canonically able to solve all those tricky puzzles we do, without benefit of a guide, just using his wits and the tools he has at hand. And so too does he solve this particular puzzle, by remembering what he’s been told and piecing it together with what he sees here, thinking about the fact that the Beast’s story doesn’t add up. Which saves the day, in the end.

- “Am I wrong?” Link repeated, his voice shaking with barely suppressed fury; he took a few more steps, forcing the Beast to retreat further. “No more lies. Tell the truth for once, Beast.” Referencing, of course, the fact that Telma told him the Beast lies. He’s absolutely furious right now because of the attempt on Aryll’s life; you do not mess with Link’s loved ones. The Beast, too, fucked around and found out the hard way.

- In the show, Wirt gives the lantern back to the Woodsman to blow out after the delivery of the “Are you?” line that I kept (and had Link nail the delivery of on his first try, unlike Wirt, because that’s what makes sense for both their characters). Here, I chose to let Link kill the Beast, because he is, after all, the legendary hero who slays the villain. But even more importantly, I felt he deserved and had earned such a moment with his growing courage over the course of the tale.

- “See you later, Link.” Hey, remember how Midna broke all our hearts by saying a similar line to Link in TP as she broke the mirror and went back to her world? I sure do!

- “Sleepers wake, dreams will fade... although we cling fast..." This, and the lyrics that close out this section, are the first few lines of the vocal version of Ballad of the Wind Fish that was done for the LA remake.

- There were lights and shadowy figures coming closer, and voices—was someone calling his name? As I would later reveal in the prologue of a place to start, Mipha was screaming his name as she ran down the hill towards him.

- The words he wanted so badly to say to her hung on the tip of his tongue And it shows on his face, that desire to express the love for her that is all but bursting out of him in this moment, and Mipha sees it. She sees that love shining in his eyes as they stare at each other, giving her her hope back and then some. In a way, Link was right: if he hadn’t hidden from her, she would’ve realized what his real feelings for her are. He just didn’t know how happy it would’ve made her. But he will soon.

- “—and that's how we got away from the evil possessed lady!” Out of the corner of his eye Link saw Aryll shake the frog triumphantly, and Mipha, distracted by the sudden commotion, looked away from him. A small, muffled chime sounded, and the amphibian's stomach glowed. “The ringing of the bell commanded her! Though she wasn't really evil, just...” The series is never clear on just what the otherworld the brothers enter is, but it is clear that it really happened to them, and I preserved that ambiguity in the same way, by showing the bell as still being in the frog’s stomach.

- Link nodded. “Yes.” It didn't matter anymore how it'd gotten into her pocket; he'd made it, and brought it with him tonight, with the intention of giving it to her. There was no more question of taking it back or denying it. Courage has been achieved; he’s no longer going to hide or pretend, or try to take back the gift he worked on so hard. Midna is right: he’s been so brave in the Wild, and it’s time to apply that bravery to confessing his feelings to Mipha and letting her know that he loves her. The words will have to wait till the next day, but for now he’s doing all he can to face his fears and stop running, by hugging her and holding her hand and wiping her tears away, letting his love show in his expression as he looks at her without avoiding her eyes. Plus, of course, admitting to his intentions with the tape and inviting her over to listen to it together. They’re finally getting a breakthrough after two months of separation and pain.

- The doctor, Syrup, is a recurring NPC throughout the series, a witch who brews up helpful healing potions for Link to use on his adventures.

- I'm home, Mipha. Calling back, of course, to Midna’s line about there being someone waiting for him and to go home to her. Not only that, but in Mipha’s letters, I had her mention wanting him to “come back to her”. And now he finally has.

and that wraps this up, as the epilogue is composed strictly of Miphlink fluff and sweet, sweet payoff. if you took the time to read the fic and these write ups, thank you, I hope you enjoyed them! ❤

#annotations #and happy zelda anniversary!

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unforth · 4 years ago

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Ask game! How about Testing, Testing, 1-2-3 (DCJ) and The Fashion Show (Destiel) [i feel like i may already know what these are about, but i might also be thinking about the *many* prompts, drabbles, and ficlets you've done over the years lol].

Testing, Testing is a DCJ prompt ficlet I started a million years ago to the prompt, Cas and Jimmy own a sex toy company and Dean is their very enthusiastic product tester. For some reason I've never quite been able to wrap my head around it, I think maybe because I want the sex toy I'm testing (it'd have to be one only cause ficlet) to be innovative and interesting (and maybe not work quite as intended) but I can't figure out what all of that would actually add up to, sex toy wise? And so it just never gets done.

The Fashion Show was going to be my 2019 DCBB until I started it and it became clear it was going to be at least twice as long as I thought and there was no way I'd be able to finish it, especially because it's extremely hard to write. I wrote about 5k of it iirc. Dean, Cas, and a slew of others are the designers on a Project Runway-esque challenge elimination show. Every episode the contestants are split into teams to design (because srsly who designs at a high level all by themselves?) and every episode one person is eliminated. However what made it super hard to write is that I read up on screen play annotation/transcription and the entire thing is done like it's transcripts of the episodes precisely as they aired, complete with behind the scenes interviews, lots of edits and cuts, and taking into consideration both what actually happened AND the narratives that those who edited the footage were trying to tease out. There's a whole side thing where one of Dean's exs is also cast, and because Dean is self-taught (Cas of course is pure design school ace) everyone looks down on him. And Charlie/Jo was going to be featured almost as prominently as Dean/Cas. The reunion episode would have given me a chance to explain how their relationships evolved. I still really love the idea but each episode was looking like it'd be around 10k long and take me days to write, and I outlined it to 13 episodes (complete with all the challenges and who'd win and who'd be eliminated) iirc, so...yeah.

Here's an excerpt because tbh I'm pretty proud of it i just don't know when I'll ever get back to it so there's been no reason to share...also I was maybe a smiiiiiidge terrified that people would react poorly to the transcript framing...anyway here's the first few hundred words. (Ugh tumblr ate all the italicization and is being bitchy about letting me fix it so I'm just gonna leave it like this...double ugh, this is unedited and I already see like six things I want to fix)

BLACK SCREEN

A male VOICE OVER, gruff with a southern accent: It's time.

A female VOICE OVER, sultry with a Highlands lilt: In 5…

QUICK SHOT of an interior: a black runway, with a large screen at the head, in a blue-draped room. There are four vacant chairs facing the runway.

Then, black screen.

Female VOICE OVER: ...4…

QUICK SHOT of an interior: a room with ecru walls, arrayed with work tables and bare manikins.

Then, black screen.

Female VOICE OVER: ...3…

QUICK SHOT of an interior: two banks of sewing machines in an ecru room divided by a gray cubicle wall.

Then, black screen.

Female VOICE OVER: ...2…

QUICK SHOT of an exterior: a diverse group of people stand in a park. Sparse pale green leaves indicate it is spring. An angel-mounted fountain sprays water that frames the assembly. The location is recognizable as BETHESDA FOUNTAIN in Central Park, New York City.

Then, black screen.

Female VOICE OVER: ...1…

INTERIOR: a small room, painted pale blue, with a view of a single arm chair. This is the CONFESSIONAL.

A swarthy MAN, with brown spiked hair, scruffy cheeks, and piercings in his ears and nose sprawls in the arm chair. He wears a shirt, the logo blurred out, but recognizable as a Led Zeppelin shirt. A label at the bottom of the screen names him DEAN WINCHESTER.

DEAN, the source of the first voice over: Oh, BLEEP. We're really gonna do this.

Black screen.

#unforth replies #destiel #dcj #meme

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feuilly-cakes · 4 years ago

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Twilight - review

I'm now revealing myself to be twilight trash, but let's talk about it! In this review you'll find the good, the bad, and the ugly (in list form even!) I know this story like the back of my hand, and this is a reread, so although I've only read this particular book once before, I can't be unbiased here. I am a more critical reader now than I was at 14 though, so hopefully this review counts for something. There will be a warning before the section with the spoilers if you haven't yet given in to the curiosity.

I loved it. I gave it 4*. I also found certain parts offensive. Some parts were very funny, and others just as dramatic as you'd expect from a book published for teens in 2005. The love story was, dare I say it, good. It's an enemies to friends to lovers, with a very quick progression on those last two. Both Bella and Edward acted just like regular teens around each other, and if there wasn't a vampire aspect involved it wouldn't have been criticised too heavily on the relationship front. I pretty much sped through the book, even with life getting in the way and pausing every 5 minutes to stick annotation tabs in. We are given a good amount of information about vampires, the history of the characters, and also the kinds of people these characters are. Aside from the offensive/insensitive parts, the entirety of which I will be listing below as I picked up on them, there are only a few moments of genuine real life creepiness not related to the Port Angeles scene right up until the epilogue, which made me very uncomfortable for reasons I shall be explaining. As a random note, I noticed 9 obvious instances of foreshadowing. She must have known where she was going with this series, or else that was a strange coincidence. The rest of this review will contain spoilers Let's begin with how this differs from the movie, since pretty much everyone has seen the movie. First and foremost, there are the characters - Bella and Edward specifically. Bella in this book is a typical teenager with a strong personality. As a child she had tantrums over going to Forks, saying she 'hadn't made a secret of [her] distaste for Forks.' She has a fierce temper, but she is also kind, frowning upon Jessica Stanley's judgement of Esme for adopting kids because she can't have any biologically. She's not vain but she cares about her looks, fussing over her skin being paler once she got to Forks - 'My skin could be pretty' 'I had no color here.' Sarcasm is her thing, and she despairs that none of her new classmates seem to get her sense of humour. She's friendly though an introvert, smiling and waving at everyone who greets her after a week of school while not knowing all of their names. She loves girls nights, and finds being around other girls 'invigorating'. She's independent and won't let Edward question that: "No, she did not send me here. I sent myself." However, she notices she has a very strong crush on Edward that is almost obsessive and finds it 'pitiful' and 'pathetic'. At least she's self aware.

Bella is very funny at times, especially when referencing her clumsiness (I won't spoil this because humour should never be spoiled). Bella is very smart and resourceful, but not in the obvious way. Schoolwork is a breeze for her because she's done most of it at her old school, but she's smart in other ways. It's Bella who figures out about Edward's mind reading abilities and questions him about it, and who flirts with Jacob Black to get information about the Cullens and why they aren't allowed on the reservation. It's Bella who tells Edward that men and women should be equal or as close to equal as they can, each saving each other the same amount of times. It's also Bella who feels that Mike Newton understands her, because they both were new in Forks at one point, and both lived in sunny places and probably both experienced the chain link fences and metal detectors that Bella was shocked were not at Forks High School. (Personally that threw me for a loop too, that schools could have metal detectors.) Edward is closer to the movie characterisation, but acts more like a typical teenage boy. He's moody but charming, awkward at times but also mischievous. At one point he cuts Bella off in the school car park and then deliberately stops his car to wait for his siblings, causing a queue behind them and giving Tyler Crowley the opportunity to ask her to the dance. He does all this to anger Bella, and it was absolutely hilarious. He flip flops between cheerful and broody, and finds Bella utterly fascinating. He is constantly relearning boundaries and ways to make Bella and himself feel more comfortable. An interesting aspect of his character that was definitely unintentional and handled poorly was the way he was coded as demi-sexual. He states that he has never wanted anyone before Bella, and his adoptive mother Esme thought there was something missing in him. As this is offensive I'll be bringing it up again later. Back to some positives, he likes to sing under his breath in a very fast speed that looks like his lips are trembling, and finds the heat of Bella's hands very pleasant. I thought this was cute, and I had to tab it for future reference. A not so cute thing is how he can 'dazzle' Bella by being close to her face and breathing on her. She describes this as her mind going blank, after which we see her agree to whatever he says while she is in this state. It's a bit creepy but he doesn't take advantage of it at first after being made aware of it, he only does so towards the end, which we shall get into later. He also hears the minds of others as a background hum that he can then focus in on, which I found interesting. Now, onto actual plot things that differed, we have Bella never buying that book on Quileute legends, instead simply flirting with a 15 year old Jacob to get his information and then combining that with a google search, and coming to her conclusions that way. Next, we have the Volturi being mentioned but not by name, firstly on vampires a-z in the section: 'Stregoni benefici: An Italian vampire, said to be on the side of goodness, and a mortal enemy of all evil vampires.' and then in a scene that wasn't a part of the film at all, wherein Edward and Bella are in Carlisle's office, talking about his history, and they are brought up simply as Carlisle's artistic friends from Italy. They are named but the word Volturi is nowhere in this book. In a similar vein, several backstories are revealed in this book that we didn't really get to see until later in the series. Bella gets some meaningful interactions with Jasper, who actually sits next to her and touches her to calm her down in the hotel. It's also implied somewhere in those chapters that Alice possibly knew about Bella planning to sneak off and let her go anyway. Finally, Bella is awake after the venom gets sucked out. This is important because she tells them that the venom is gone and thanks Edward before passing out. She was awake and aware the whole time, though in incredible pain. Another difference happens but I'll be discussing that with the other creepy things. Next, I would like to discuss a few things we learn about Vampires. Did you know that despite their physical perfection, a hungry vampire looks like they are recovering from a nose job? The bruises are very prominent, and likely not pretty to look at. Did you also know that they a venomous in the true sense of the word? Alice tells Bella that the venom is to incapacitate victims with the pain, and becoming a vampire is just a side effect, not the true function of the venom. The pain is there for a reason, and that reason is to torture victims with the burning sensation so they can't get away. These vampires may sparkle, but they aren't cute. I will never get the image of snake fangs out of my mind in conjunction to twilight vampires. Am I the only one who didn't realise the inherent creepiness of that because there's no mention of it in the films? Alright, now onto the offensive/ creepy stuff. I'll be bullet pointing these with elaboration where needed. -Bella refers to herself as an albino simply because she is pale. This one just didn't sit right with me, for reasons I can't explain. Stick with me here, it gets worse. -A casual comment about suicide: 'I guess he considered me old enough now not to shoot myself by accident, and not depressed enough to shoot myself on purpose.' This one is tricky, because everyone has made jokes like that, but it made me personally uncomfortable and didn't need to be in there considering the tone of the rest of the book. -Upon Edward talking to her again after the car park incident, Bella says this: "Do you have multiple personality disorder?" This needs no elaboration. Buckle up, it gets worse. -Jacob. He tells Bella his people's legends after she flirts with him, all the while telling her he didn't believe them himself. Then he asks her: "So do you believe we're a bunch of superstitious natives or what?" As someone who is not native american, I can't give a personal perspective here, but I don't believe this is something she should have had a native character say. Stephenie Meyer is a white woman and had no place essentially calling the people she culturally appropriated a bunch of superstitious natives. It was jarring to read that line knowing that it's not her culture and she has no right to say that, only someone from the culture has the right to say that. As I said, I'm not native american and I haven't looked deeply into what exactly she stole and changed, but I know she did it, so that can of course be a pretty major offence to many people. -She compares her clumsiness to being 'almost disabled'. Gross. -The watching her while she sleeps thing. Let's talk about it. She guesses he's been spying on her when he knows where the key is after the meadow date, and he says he's been watching her sleep. It's undoubtedly creepy, but Bella isn't concerned about that. Oh no, she's concerned about what he heard while she was sleep talking. She actually seems unbothered by the stalking aspect, which is why I think these actions flew under the radar for so many people. If Bella thinks it's fine then it must be fine, right? This should have been handled differently. -The Aphobia. Edward tells Bella that Esme was 'afraid that there was something missing from [his] essential makeup'. This is really harmful, but it wasn't intentional. I have no doubt that Stephenie Meyer had no clue and perhaps still has no clue that asexuality is a thing and that she accidentally made Edward demisexual, by simple fact of him being interested in no one before Bella. Nonetheless, it needs to be warned for. -There are heavy implications of p*dophilia here, by choice of language. Regarding Bella's class, full of people her age. Edward calls them a 'class full of children' then on the next page calls Bella 'an insignificant little girl' and then a few chapters down he calls jacob a 'child' to which Bella responds that he is not much younger than she is and Edward cheerfully replies that he knows. It's beyond creepy and I wish it wasn't there, because if it had gone the opposite way of Edward making old man jokes it could have been funny and not horrifying to think about. -Lastly though not leastly, the epilogue. All throughout the book Bella has under no circumstances wanted to go to prom. She is tricked into going to prom. Alice sees the future, Edward reads minds, they knew she wouldn't want to go but bamboozled her into going anyway, and when she starts shouting and crying, Edwards tells her "Don't be difficult". This is creepy and horrifying, that they are taking away her agency and treating her like a child when she tries to refuse. Although she goes and has a goodish time, it still wasn't right to force her into that position. Thus concludes this review, and I leave you with the knowledge that if you read this you get to see the part where Charlie Swan tells Bella that Carlisle Cullen is very attractive. Good day.

#twilight #stephenie meyer #book review #book blogger #twilight trash #book rec #books and literature #vampires

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setting-in-a-honeymoon · 4 years ago

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@shark-myths tagged me to answer a bunch of deep questions, and let me start by telling you that I am flattered someone as cool as her thought to tag me, so thank you shark! If you guys want to, I tag @stereostatic @xylobones @justkindaconfused and @mmetacarpals.

1. Do you prefer writing with a black pen or a blue pen?

Black pen, hands down. It’s just cleaner, you know? It’s Crisp.

2. Would you prefer to live in the country or the city?

City. I live in Tennessee, and it’s pretty, but I don’t want to live here forever. I can, however, see myself coming back every once in a while to galavant among the kudzu and listen to the cicadas scream.

3. If you could learn a new skill what would it be?

I wish I had more cooking and baking skills. I used to cook with my mom a lot, but then I started getting *shudders* homework and I didn’t have as much time. I really should start cooking and baking with her again.

4. Do you drink your tea/coffee with sugar?

Yes. So much. And cream.

5. What was your favorite book as a child?

I...actually can’t remember if I had a favorite book? I loved the Magic Tree House series, and then in middle school I binge-read all seven of the Chronicles of Narnia, which I also loved, but all the favorite books I can think of now are books I read much more recently.

6. Do you prefer baths or showers?

Showers. I feel awkward in baths, cause I never fill them up enough, so then I’m just laying half-exposed in lukewarm water. I think if I ever have a deep claw foot tub I’ll try taking baths again and see how I feel. Plus, in the shower I can re-enact scenes from the music video for “All These Things that I’ve Done” by The Killers.

7. If you could be one mythical creature, what would it be?

Just one? There’s so many I would love to be: fae, nymph, mermaid, vampire, werewolf, etc.

8. Paper or electronic books?

Paper. I like making notes in books, and I think it adds character to see my own handwriting/squiggly lines on the pages. Even if my handwriting is atrocious. <3

9. What is your favorite item of clothing?

My MANIA tour jacket. It’s comfy and cozy but also badass and makes me feel powerful.

10. Do you like your name or would you like to change it?

Okay, so my full name is a little too Southern debutant for my liking, but everyone calls me Gracie, and I don’t mind that. I sometimes wish I had a slightly more ambiguous name, but nothing too different? Like “Gray” and “Grayson” have a certain appeal to me.

11. Who is a mentor to you?

Pete Wentz.

12. Would you like to be famous, and if so, what for?

Yes, but not like a huge celebrity. Intimate fandom type fan base. And I would LOVE to be a famous author. That’s my goal in life.

13. Are you a restless sleeper?

On occasion. Most of the time when I sleep, I sleep like the dead, but if my anxiety’s bad or I watched something scary that day then I’ll wake up a few times in the night.

14. Do you consider yourself a romantic person?

I think I have the potential to be. I definitely have my moments.

15. Which element best represents you?

I think earth?

16. Who do you want to be closer to?

Someone I used to be really close to, but we had a kind of an unspoken friend break-up and we drifted apart for a while. I want us to be closer friends again.

17. Do you miss someone at the moment?

My brother, who’s currently at my dad’s for the weekend.

18. Tell us about an early childhood memory?

My mom runs a lot, and when I was little she would take me with her and push me in a jogging stroller. The parks she ran in were always really nice, and sometimes she would run in the evening while fireflies were out. I would just sit in the stroller and listen to Rascal Flatts on a portable CD player, but those moments always feel very magical when I think about them.

19. What is the strangest thing you’ve eaten?

I ate popcorn off my school’s football field on a dare. Oh, and dandelions. 0/10, do not recommend- they’re nothing but grit.

20. What are you most thankful for?

Having family members that support me.

21. Do you like spicy food?

I can’t handle anything spicy. Even Chipotle makes my eyes water. :(

22. Have you ever met someone famous?

Nope.

23. Do you keep a diary or journal?

Yes! Most of my journals are poetry, I think, but I love the feeling of filling a notebook with my thoughts.

24. Do you prefer to use a pen or a pencil?

Pencil when I’m writing, because sometimes my letters come out wonky and I have to fix them Right Then, but if I’m annotating I use a pen because it looks better.

25. What is your star sign?

Virgo

26. Do you like your cereal soggy or crunchy?

Crunchy

27. What would you want your legacy to be?

That I was a smart, accomplished person who was fun to hang out with.

28. Do you like reading, what was the last book you read?

I do! The last book I read was The Best American Poetry of 2015.

29. How do you show someone you love them?

Compliments, cuddles, and showing them things I think they would like.

30. Do you like ice in your drinks?

No. I don’t drink things very fast, so it would just become a gross, watered down mess.

31. What are you afraid of?

Breaking down and losing control.

32. What is your favorite scent?

Bonfire smoke

33. Do you address older people by their name or surname?

Depends on how I know them. If it’s like, a parent of a friend, I’ll say “Mrs./Mr. [insert first name].”

34. If money was not a factor, how would you live your life?

However felt right, I guess.

35. Do you prefer swimming in pools or the ocean?

Pools, I think. I don’t have to worry about being swept away by waves in a pool.

36. What would you do if you found $50 on the ground?

Put it in the bank.

37. Have you ever seen a shooting star?

Not that I can remember.

38. What is one thing you would want to teach your children?

Your worth isn’t measured by how productive you are or how strong you are. It’s okay to break down and take mental health days. Those messages weren’t engraved in me very well, and dealing with the repercussions isn’t fun.

39. If you had to have a tattoo, what would it be and where would you get it?

My brother’s birthday in Roman numerals on the back of my neck. I also know I want to get Orion tattooed on the inside of my bicep.

40. What can you hear now?

Bugs outside and my mom and her boyfriend talking downstairs.

41. Where do you feel the safest?

In my room, and the passenger seat of my best friend’s car.

42. What is one thing you want to overcome/conquer?

My anxiety

43. If you could travel back to any era, what would it be?

Either late 90s/early two thousands, or Ancient Greece. I want to join a cult of Artemis or Dionysus.

44. What is your most used emoji?

Crying laughing face

45. Describe your self using one word.

Chill.

46. What do you regret the most?

Not nourishing new friendships the way I should have.

47. Last movie you saw?

I think it might’ve been Jerry McGuire? I’m not sure. Time is a blur.

48. Last TV show you watched?

Grimm, a paranormal(?) detective show based on the Brothers Grimm fairytales.

49. Invent a word and it’s meaning.

I’m actually going to use this to geek out about Latin for a second. One of my favorite tricks in Latin is that you can add the suffix “ifer” to basically any noun to mean [noun]-bringer. Like melifer means honey-bringer, and noctifer means night-bringer. I don’t know why, but I love it.

This took a while, but it was super fun. Thanks again @shark-myths for tagging me! :)

#thanks for the tag!

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wallisjewellie · 5 years ago

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Original Obidala concept by Lucas

Hear me out on the original Obidala concept by George Lucas.

Having read it, three things are obvious to me:

1. Padmé is an even more powerful and precious character than she appears to be based on the traits she exhibits in The Phantom Menace.

2. She and Obi-Wan have a more central role in the original plot (both together and separately) than in the final version.

3. While Padmé has a rather significant and overt attraction towards Obi-Wan (who does not seem to reciprocate it, but certainly notices it), she demonstrates contempt and disdain towards Anakin.

Here I only present the parts which are relevant concerning the Obidala and Anidala pairings. For the entire text please refer to the following source: http://fd.noneinc.com/secrethistoryofstarwarscom/secrethistoryofstarwars.com/thebeginning.html

“Qui Gon did not enter the film until the Coruscant section and so it is mainly the story of Obi Wan Kenobi, an older, full Jedi Knight, who uncovers the invasion of Utapau (Naboo in the film), rescues the queen, lands on Tatooine and recruits a young boy named Anakin Skywalker to become a Jedi. [...]

Below is the collection of annotations from the CD-ROM. These [are] transcribed nearly word-for-word from the CD. Enjoy reading the earliest version of Episode I: The Beginning.

Before it was known as "The Phantom Menace," the working title of Episode I was simply "The Beginning." [...] In the revised rough draft, the [opening] scroll reads:

"It is a time of decay in the Republic. The taxation of trade routes to the tiny planet of Utapau is in dispute. Hoping to force a resolution with a blockade of deadly Star Destroyers, the greedy Federation of Galactic Traders has cut off all shipping and supplies to the small, peaceful planet. While the Congress of the Republic endlessly debates the alarming chain of events, the Supreme Chancellor has secretly dispatched a young Jedi Knight to settle the conflict...."

Naboo is known as Utapau.

It is only Obi-Wan who is sent to investigate the trade dispute. Qui-Gon doesn't appear until much later. Obi-Wan's characterization was essentially what became Qui-Gon in the final film, having many of the same lines and mannerisms. Obi-Wan is described as being about thirty years old and wears all black. [...]

Amidala's age is "hard to determine, but she is a young woman." [Editor’s remark: therefore NOT a child queen. Her age possibly corresponds to the age of actress Natalie Portman at that time.] While her planet is called Utapau, the people she rules over are referred to as the "people of Naboo." [...]

The actual invasion of Theed (or Naboo City) is more detailed in the revised rough draft. [...] There is more racial tension between the Gungans and the Naboo. Amidala tries to prevent Jar Jar from entering her ship. Obi-Wan argues and wins the point, but Amidala insists that the Gungan be kept in the droid hold. Racial prejudice had been considered a factor in the fall of the Republic for a long time. It was mentioned in the second draft of A New Hope, which stated that the founders of the Empire incited race wars. [...]

Upon Tatooine's arrival in the revised rough draft, Obi-Wan - dressed as a moisture farmer - leads the group into Mos Espa since Qui-Gon hadn't appeared at this point. [...] Just as in the film, Padme joins the group at the request of the Queen.

There are hints of a Padme crush on Obi-Wan. When Kenobi argued with "Amidala" about Jar Jar on Naboo, Padme was impressed that Obi-Wan was able to stand up to the "Queen". As they enter Mos Espa, she "gives Obi-Wan a long, adoring look." In Mos Espa, Padme watches Kenobi with interest and respect, making Kenobi very nervous.

Padme is well-trained in self-defense. Upon entering Mos Espa, she is grabbed by a creature. She hits the creature, causing it to double over in pain. This attracts the attention of the local merchants, and they clear the way for the entourage. Obi-Wan warns Padme to save her skills until they are truly needed.

When Anakin meets Padme, there is no mention of Jar Jar's clumsy antics with the little droid in the shop. Also in this draft, Anakin announces to Padmé that he will marry her someday. [...]

The dinner occurrences take place differently in the revised rough draft. While Padme, Obi-Wan, Shmi and Jar Jar eat together, Anakin is outside working on the podracer. Padme questions Obi-wan's decision to put their fate in Anakin's hands. She is obviously upset about this, and decides to take Anakin something to eat. [...]

Outside, Padmé thanks Anakin for helping them. Anakin admits that he was seeking a way to enter the podrace without losing his vehicle to Watto, who can claim ownership over everything that Anakin possesses. By this reasoning, Anakin displays more unusual wisdom for a boy his age in saying:

ANAKIN: We're helping each other. That's the natural way of things.

Padmé asks Anakin if slavery is natural too.

ANAKIN: Of course not. But the stupidity of many creatures is.

Padmé confesses that she has never met anyone like Anakin. Returning the sentiment, Anakin leans over and gives Padmé a kiss on the cheek. [Editor’s remark: in the concept art it is obvious that Padmé is taken aback by this bold act, pulling away with a surprised, wide-eyed look on her face. https://www.thethings.com/15-surprising-ways-the-phantom-menace-was-almost-a-very-different-movie/]

[...] Just before they depart for the podrace, Padme notices Obi-Wan staring out a window of the hovel.

PADME: You look like you're trying to solve the problems of the universe.

OBI-WAN: Only our own, but maybe they will become the problems of the universe. I don't know...

It appears that Obi-Wan senses that this seemingly small-scale struggle will have larger, darker ramifications for the galaxy as a whole. [...]

After Obi-Wan cuts down the Sith probe, he identifies it for Anakin. [...] Obi-Wan and Darth Maul are the ones to duel, and they exhibit much more Jedi powers than do Qui-Gon and Maul in the final film. [...] Obi-Wan discusses his mysterious attacker with Panaka and Padmé. Obi-wan suspects Maul to be a Sith, though they all agree that the Sith should no longer exist. [...]

The Queen exhibits the same disdain for "strays" as Obi-Wan does in the final film, but to a great degree. Not only is she not pleased with having Jar Jar on her ship, but also feels the same way about Anakin.

AMIDALA: Must we pick up every strange creature along the way? Our journey is most serious and perilous. The fate of an entire people is at stake here.

OBI-WAN: I am an agent of the Republic, and the boy falls under the same protection as you.

The Queen concedes the debate.

Qui-Gon Jinn's first scene is here on the landing platform on Coruscant, standing alongside Palpatine and Valorum. [...] In introducing Qui-Gon to his Jar Jar, Obi-Wan says, "He is my mentor and good friend.” [...]

Before returning to Utapau, Amidala, Qui-Gon, Obi-Wan, Palpatine, Panaka, and the handmaiden Eirte discuss strategy. The situation has become desperate, as all government officials have been imprisoned and food and water supplies run dangerously low. Palpatine also fears that some senators will continue to try and block Amidala's appearance before the Senate, thus stalling any action. Qui-Gon tells the Queen that both he and Obi-Wan have been assigned to protect her.

Amidala decides that she and her followers will attempt to retake possession of Utapau. Her plan is to organize the populace and attack the Traders in any way possible. Nearly everyone disagrees with the course of action, including Obi-Wan, who points out that the Naboo are untrained, poorly equipped, and unprepared to fight the droid army. [...] She then decides to return to Utapau. [...]

Palpatine tells Valorum of the Queen's plans to take back her planet. Valorum thinks the Queen is "very reckless" in doing this, but Palpatine says that she is merely "bold". Frustrated, Valorum resolves to "force the Senate to take up this issue before it turns into a disaster" for Palpatine and his people. This confrontation with the Senate, however, eventually leads to his removal from office by the end of the story, and Palpatine replaces him. [...]

The heroes meet with a small group of "Rebels" prior to the final battle. This meeting takes place in a hidden Rebel headquarters, and is attended by Anakin, R2, Padme, Eirtae, Amidala, Obi-Wan, Qui-Gon, and Panaka. It is also attended by the Rebel leaders Captain Autter and Captain Ural. During this scene, Padme steps forward and reveals, "The Queen has been using her surrogate on this trip." [...]

Obi-Wan and Padme agree to allow Anakin to participate in the battle. Padme invites Anakin and R2 to join her in 2-person starfighter. While Anakin familiarizes himself with the controls, Padme flies them into the battle. But, when Anakin spots the massive Traders' Star Destroyers, Anakin voices his doubts about the attack. Padme says, "We will disable them or drive them off. If we don't our ground forces will not succeed..." When Anakin asks her how such a feat is possible, she replies by telling him that they will rely on faith. [...]

In order to defeat the Trader's army, Padme and Anakin realize that they must first find and destroy the battleship responsible for emitting the signals to the droid army. [...]

Qui-Gon confronts Darth Maul alone when Obi-Wan is pushed off the gantry. As Kenobi hurries to rejoin the fight, the energetic Maul quickly wears down Obi-Wan's mentor. Eventually, Qui-Gon slips and is cut down. Obi-Wan and Maul then clash in the complex. Battle droids attempt to enter into the facility and aid Maul, but Kenobi uses the Force to "slam the door shut, crushing several droids in the process". [...] Eventually, the battle droids do make their way into the facility. Distracted by these new arrivals, Obi-Wan is nearly killed by Maul. [...] When Maul attempts to cut Obi-Wan in half, the Jedi leaps right into the midst of the battle droids.

Soon afterwards, Padme and Anakin destroy the primary droid control ship, and the battle droids in the generator area begin running into the walls. As Maul wades through the droids, cutting them down in his quest to kill Kenobi, the Jedi uses the Force to hurl droids at his enemy. Finally, they stand face-to-face.

OBI-WAN: Your style of fighting is old, but I understand it now.

MAUL: You learn fast.

OBI-WAN: You don't bother to learn.

MAUL: I don't have to.

Before Maul can act, Kenobi lashes out and cuts the Sith warrior in half. He studies his fallen enemy and says: "Learn not...live not, my master always says."

Meanwhile, Anakin and Padme spot on heavily-armed battleship, and believe it to be the command ship. They prepare to attack the pilot's tower, but the tower's deflector shields prove incredibly strong. Padme orders two pilots, Teeter and Potts, to attack the ship's shield generator. They are successful in damaging the shields. Then, while Anakin pilots the ship, Padme serves as gunner. Despite the heavy flak surrounding them, Padme remains focused on her objective. As the deflector shield fluctuates, she fires several missiles, which destroy the control tower and cause the chain reaction that obliterates the command ship.

#obidala #anidala #obi wan x padme #anakin x padme #sw prequels #the phantom menace #aniobidala #star wars #the beginning #qui gon jinn #obi wan kenobi #anakin skywalker #padme amidala #naboo #darth maul #jar jar binks

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saemi-the-writer · 5 years ago

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Taming the green-eyed monster

Fandom: The Strange Case of Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde Sequel to this story

Pairing: Utterson/Jekyll and Utterson/Hyde Warning: Some swearing, mentions of sex

Lady Summers belongs to @melodiouswhite

Summary: Jekyll works to overcome his jealousy, Utterson waits patiently.

“My tongue will tell the anger of my heart, or else my heart concealing it will break.” ― William Shakespeare, “The Taming of the Shrew”

Hyde grunted as he stepped inside the dark room; walking all the way to Utterson’s estate and climbing up had tired him a bit, thus his initial wrath had rather lowered. He leaned on his knees, trying to catch his breath.

“Edward.”

The “young man” jumped back with a repressed cry before he finally noticed the lawyer. The two stared at each other in a tense silence; Hyde had a hand on his heart, which was beating wildly, while Utterson had his arms crossed over his chest. The only sound resonating in the room now was Hyde’s ragged breath.

“What- How did you know I was coming?” Hyde finally managed to utter.

“Let’s say I had an intuition you would.” Utterson chose not to mention Lanyon’s call, not wanting to spark an argument between the two. “So, I looked out of the window until I saw you sneaking in the garden.”

Hyde grumbled something unintelligible under his breath, still breathing heavily. The lawyer tutted before turning on a lamp; then he pulled out a chair and nodded at the other, a silent offer or order -the little rogue was not sure- to sit down. Whatever it was, he dropped on the seat with a groan.

“Now.” Utterson pulled another chair for himself, joined his hands in front of him and frowned down at the smaller man. “I believe you and I need to talk.”

———————————–

“Darling, what is it?” Mrs Guest asked her husband, half asleep.

Mr Guest had lit a lamp and was checking the window of their bedroom.

“Sorry, my dear.” He said softly after ensuring the window was closed (and locked). “I woke to a strange feeling, as if I was frozen to the bone. I had to check if the window was open.”

His beloved patted the pace next to her and wrapped her arms around him when he joined her back under the covers.

“It must have been a bad dream.” She whispered before falling asleep again.

Mr Guest chose to shove the bad feeling he had out of his mind, but he could not help feeling like someone was really mad at him.

———————————–

“So, it did not end really well.” Lady Summers acknowledged, putting her half-full teacup on its saucer.

Jekyll gloomily sipped on his tea in response. The therapist could hear his intern mutterings and would have found them amusing, had his jealousy not been so inappropriate.

“He threw his old copy of Othello in Hyde’s- in my face” his grip on the teacup tightened, worrying her that he would break it (he’d better not!) “and ordered me to read it carefully before we see each other again.”

“He did not throw it to your face.” the blonde woman corrected immediately; she knew it for she had watched the scene replaying in his mind.

Seeing that the argument was going round and round, Utterson had taken the book -which he had been keeping close the whole time apparently- and gave Hyde a small whack on the forehead with it.

“Read it.” The lawyer’s voice was ice cold. “Either as Edward or Henry, read it carefully before you eventually revisit me. Or even talk to me. Now get out.”

Then before Hyde’s outrage expression, he had pointed at the still opened window.

“It’s almost the same!” the doctor exclaimed. “I can’t believe him!”

“Had I known this Guest’s address; I would have broken one of his windows!” Hyde’s voice raised in the man’s head.

Lady Summers frowned and got up from her rocking chair.

“Good thing you did not, then.” her tone hardened. “Are you aware that Utterson’s trust in you would have been severely damaged, had you done that?” Jekyll froze and stared at her with wide eyes. “Of course, he would have known about it sooner or later and put two and two together! Do you think of he’s an idiot? Don’t even answer.”

The Lady walked to him and stopped in front of him, her ice-blue eyes glaring down at the doctor.

“Your relationship could have even been broken because of that, Jekyll, Hyde. If you can go and do such things in a jealous rage -and an inconvenient one, may I add- then you don’t respect Utterson as a person.”

“I do!” Jekyll cried out, his face as white as a sheet.

“Then why were you thinking about hurting, or causing any property damage to someone he cares about? Do you also plan to make him choose between Mr Guest and you? Then why don’t you just put him inside a cage to keep him all to yourself, at your beck and call?”

When Jekyll’s eyes started to fill with tears, Lady Summers knew she was on the good track. She needed to push him this way so he would step out of this downward spiral on his own. She knew why Jekyll felt the need to feel “chosen” above someone else, where his feeling of betrayal came from; and that, deep down, Hyde’s furious outburst were only a manifestation of that trauma along with Jekyll’s deep lack of both self-confidence and self-esteem. Utterson was aware of that, and it hurt him, it was always very affecting to see someone you love clinging to both their misery and past, locking themselves into their insecurities and refusing to see themselves as they truly were.

Another sharp comment and the man started wailing, letting out all his anguish and self-doubt out. Lady Summers sat down next to him and invited him to cry in her laps; caressing his soft hair to soothe him as he did.

———————————–

Lanyon let go of his friend to let him wipe at his eyes, holding his monocle for him as he did. Utterson offered him a small smile and thanked him once he had put his handkerchief down.

“Forgive me, I did not mean for you to be there to comfort me when I invited you.” The lawyer said, putting his monocle back on his right eye.

“Nonsense.” Lanyon poured them both more tea. “It is only fair that I am here for you after what happened. I owe you that, for all those times you listened to me.”

Utterson had always been the mediator between the two doctors when they argued, since their schooldays; sometimes even being the messenger between the two of them, always standing in the middle, as if caught into a crossfire.

Lanyon now fully realized how hard it must have been for Utterson back then. He was not sure if he felt more admiration or guilt towards him, for all the arguments he had got him involved in.

Utterson stared thoughtfully at his cup of tea before speaking again.

“I just wish he could see how far he has come.” a sigh escaped his lips. “It seems like I don’t show him enough appreciation; I know I am not the most demonstrative, but I thought he had come to understand my way of showing affection…”

“He must stop going from one extreme to another.” Lanyon pointed out, stirring some sugar in his tea. “As you said, he had come so far -the two of you had- you should not have to constantly prove your love to him after everything that happened! Needing some reassurance now and then is one thing, but this whole charade!”

Utterson drank slowly his tea, his friend’s words sinking him and bringing some comfort.

“I know he must take the first step to reconcile this time.” He whispered loud enough for Lanyon to hear. “But I miss him. Either as Henry or Edward…”

“And it’s alright.” His friend offered him a kind smile as he squeezed his shoulder.

“And it’s not like I have never been jealous over him.”

Lanyon looked at the lawyer incredulously, barely believing what he heard.

“Well, at least you were discreet when you were!” he laughed awkwardly.

This got Utterson to smile, before he started recounting his misadventure with that feeling.

———————————–

The book was extremely well-worn, eventually dog-eared, it was obvious Utterson had read it many times. Jekyll gently flipped through it and quickly noticed it was heavily annotated; the name of some characters was underlined, some stage directions added or removed, and parts of some soliloquies were underlined as well.

Upon closer reading, he noticed Utterson had not just taken some notes for an eventual acting, he was also commenting some sentences and…

There was a letter hidden in the pages. It was as old as the book itself, and it was addressed to him?

Jekyll blinked in confusion and quickly opened the envelope.

———————————–

Utterson sighed as he re-read the old letter hidden in “A Midsummer Night’s Dream”.

I was literally desperate at the time.

Maybe he was being hard on himself, the letter itself was not that horrible but it was painful for him to read. Looking back, the year when he turned 17 had been the worst year of his life; not only had he been going through an identity crisis and realized he was in love with Henry… his mother died. Although he had been surrounded by his family and friends, it was the loneliest time of Utterson’s life. Feeling alone in the crowd, being struck by loneliness in the centre of the scene… Utterson shook his head, now was not the time to dwell.

Oh, this rhyme is quite good, I didn’t remember it.

He had written several letters to Henry at that time; letters that he had never meant to send to him, hidden -as if sealed- into his old drama texts, buried under all his legal documents and records. Othello contained the one where he had expressed all his passion and jealousy. He had not dared re-read it, remembering all too well in what state he had written it. A small snort escaped him as he recalled Lanyon’s expression when he confessed him that, and how he had believed his two friends had been lovers back then.

———————————–

Lucy stared at her odd friend in concern; Hyde had ordered a drink and had yet to touch it, the brunette merely twirled the liquid in his glass, staring into space. But more surprising: he had not tried to pick a fight! Usually, he was either drinking and chatting with her and some of the girls or blowing off some steam by fighting with other clients -or the barman, depending on his mood.

“Hey.” He uttered, at last. “When you quarrel with your special other because you acted overly jealous, how do you reconcile?”

The prostitute’s eyes widened, then a smile appeared on her face. So, that was the problem! She sat closer to him before she started listing what she would do in a similar situation (it never happened) or what she would like to see her beloved do for her.

“But you know your ‘special other’ better than me, so you should know what would please him.” Lucy tapped her finger playfully on his nose. “The first step is always the most difficult to take; and since you’re the one who started the whole ordeal, do us a favour: put your pride asides and go apologize.”

Hyde huffed and looked away from the brown-haired woman.

“Oh my God, this guy is going to get himself killed!”

The two brunettes turned to see what the other prostitute meant, and Hyde froze.

What is Guest doing here?

———————————–

“Finally!” Hyde breathed and let himself fall into Lanyon’s couch. “I can’t believe I had almost the whole family hanging on my coattail!”

“You did not have Mrs Guest on the phone.” Lanyon pointed out, rubbing his right ear. “And stop complaining! It is perfectly comprehensible that Mr Guest’s family would get worried in such circumstances.”

“His son was literally clinging to me and whining during the whole consultation, and he was not even the one injured!”

Lanyon chuckled. When he had got out of the examination room to tell Mr Guest’s son - Terrence if he recalled – he could go see his father; he had found the young man holding onto Hyde like a koala to its branch. He had almost burst out laughing at his friend’s expression, silently calling him out for help while the younger man was wailing, feeling guilty for the previous events.

“At least, Lucy got somewhere better to spend the night than her old cabin or the brothel…”

Hyde startled when the bearded doctor took his left hand to examine it.

“You should have told me it was bruised.” Lanyon glared at him before searching for his medical kit. “How are you supposed to take care of your patients tomorrow if you are hurt?”

“Jekyll can manage.” The brunette rolled his eyes but let the other treat him.

“You did well.” Lanyon uttered after a long moment of silence, Hyde blinked and stared at him in confusion. “Utterson will be proud when he hears that.”

“I-I did not do it get back on his good side!” Hyde stammered, frowning both in concern and annoyance.

“I know that, Mr Guest, Terrence and Miss Lucy explained me everything.” the doctor had a wry smile while he was tidying up his tools. “And hearing how Mrs Guest was being vocal about filing a complaint, our Utterson is likely to learn about this case first thing in the morning.”

Hyde leant against the armrest, burying his face in arms with a low hum. He did want to reconcile with Gabriel as soon as possible, this week has seemed endless, but not this way. Yes, being a hero in his beloved’s eyes sounded delightful, he could not deny it; but he was afraid it might seem to be a cheap manoeuvre to get what he wanted.

Was it what he thought, or was it Jekyll?... Whatever. He was not in the mood for games.

His fingers gently brushed his overcoat, Utterson’s letter was hidden in its inside pocket.

Then, as if stricken by thunder, Hyde got up; startling Lanyon.

“Hastie, do you by any chance have a book of herbology and one of floriography?”

The divided man spent the rest of the night drawing, turning back to his usual form to write a letter to go with the picture. Once sealed, Jekyll held the envelop against his chest before handing it to his butler, instructing him to deliver it personally to his (beloved) lawyer.

———————————–

Utterson gathered his papers, putting them into a folder, before walking Mrs Guest out of his office.

“I will do everything I can, Alathea.” He assured gravely. “What was done to Ethan and what was meant to happen to Terrence will not go unpunished.”

“Thank you, Gabriel.” Mrs Guest’s eyes gleamed with angry tears, she quickly wiped them away with her handkerchief before offering the lawyer a small smile. “The dinner of tomorrow is not cancelled, by the way. Your presence would be much appreciated.”

“I would not miss it for anything in the world.” Utterson smiled back.

As he welcomed his next client, his gaze rested for a second on the letter Poole had given him early in the morning. He discreetly hid it before he brought his attention back to his client.

It was only when lunchtime came that the occasion arose, Utterson locked himself in his office, asking not to be disturbed, and quickly opened it.

The letter was probably the most poignant and sincere one Jekyll had ever written him, there were no promises, no attempt at justifying himself; only the expression of his regret and his ardent love for him. The fact that he mentioned Utterson’s letter and the copy of Othello moved the lawyer, so his words did reach him!

Then, there was the drawing.

It was a bouquet of flowers, since Jekyll could not offer him one openly, he had chosen to draw it for him. One that would never wither. Utterson found it very heart-warming.

A big blue iris and a white peony surrounded by several white garden arabises and light pink hawthorns.

The iris announced a message, but it could also mean “I am ready to do anything to prove my love”; the peony to express modesty and shame, then the hawthorns for hope and garden arabises for reconciliation.

How lovely.

Then, he noticed four orchids at the bottom of the page.

Utterson smiled fondly, orchids meant you were in the person’s thoughts, and the white ones specified pure love – similar to a white rose, most of times…

Wait.

Four orchids. White, yellow, pink and finally red.

Utterson’s cheeks glowed so red one could think he had a high fever.

This is Edward’s doing, I’m sure of it!!

He shook his head and quickly folded the drawing again, hiding it from his sight with a tut. But then he paused, unsure.

“Why would you not give him what he is asking for?” a mischievous voice resounded in his mind.

Before he knew it, a cheeky smile had made its way on his face.

———————————–

Jekyll was not sure what to make of Lady Summers wry smile; she had acted a bit off ever since she had to excuse herself from the lounge for a moment. And now, she was whispering into Lanyon’s ear; the doctor could not watch them more as one of his other guests was talking to him.

And it went on, the two (lovebirds) kept exchanging knowing gazes and laughed into their sleeves (for Lanyon) and fan (for Lady Summers). Jekyll felt his eye twitch when they only chuckled after he asked what was going on.

“What are they up to?!” Hyde huffed. “I hate it when people do that! Are they trying to trick us?”

“So do I.” Jekyll answered mentally, aware that the blonde woman was probably listening to their conversation. “I have no idea what is going on, but I trust they won’t trick us… not too bad.”

The night ended peacefully; all the guests were on their way back home. After thanking him for the dinner, Lady Summers leant in and told him in a low voice:

“Do not take too long to go to bed, my friend. You deserve some rest.”

Jekyll blinked, not sure if he was more confused than grateful for her caring. His old friend gave him a light slap on the back with an enthusiastic “good night, old chap!” before escorting the Lady out.

The blonde doctor stared at their carriage until it was out of sight, still baffled.

“Well, you might as well go to bed.” Hyde commented, shrugging in his shadow form. “I want to be in good shape tomorrow night.”

“You got some plans?” Jekyll raised an eyebrow at him.

Hyde evaded the issue, which annoyed him; he threatened to prevent him to go out unless he told him exactly what he had in mind. The two internally bickered until Jekyll reached his room. The doctor bid good-night to his butler before entering; he closed the door and was about to continue his argument with his alter-ego when an arm wrapped itself around his waist from behind.

A hand was pressed to his mouth as he cried out in alarm; Jekyll felt his heartbeat accelerating considerably in panic before a familiar scent reached his nose.

“I’ve got you, my Apollo. Or should I call you my Othello?”

The hand let go of his mouth -Jekyll gasped as it did- to caress his lower lip with the tip of its fingers and gently seized his chin to turn his head around.

“Gabe!” Jekyll exclaimed in relief.

“Mister Seek!” Hyde cheered in the highest pitch voice the doctor had ever heard him, it was quite embarrassing honestly.

“But how?” he was shortly interrupted by a kiss.

“You’re not the only one to know how to sneak around, you know?” Utterson smirked before kissing him again, on his cheek this time.

Jekyll felt himself melt like butter into the lawyer arms and clung to his neck after turning around for a proper kiss. The temperature of the room increased quickly while more kisses were shared, each one more passionate than the previous.

“Thank you for having come to the aid of Guest, the other night.” Gabriel muttered between two kisses. “And for the flowers and your letter, they were lovely.”

The two cravats were quickly undone, both men could breathe more easily once their stiff collars were out of the way.

“I am sorry about my attitude last week.” Jekyll panted. “I’ve missed you so much!”

“I know.” The brown-haired man paused and took his lover’s face into his hands, his thumbs caressing the other’s cheeks. “I’ve missed you too. And I admit that I have been longing for your presence at night as well.” Jekyll felt himself grinning like a fool at that. “So, I could not resist to your second invitation. I came here as soon as the dinner at Guest was over.”

“I’m glad you- wait, what second invitation??”

“The orchids, Henry.” Gabriel chuckled and breathed into his ear. “The yellow orchid means the warmth of love along erotism” the blonde man froze. “the pink one for sensual seduction and the red one expresses the desire to make love.”

Henry’s skin was now burning hot.

“EDWARD WHAT THE HELL!!!”

“Complaining, complaining! If you’re not happy then step aside!! I want him bad!!”

“This is out of question!! First come, first-served basis!!”

“Henry, are you and Edward arguing again?” Utterson tutted.

“Nevermind!” Jekyll kissed him fiercely, his hands gripping his lover’s shirt. “Rip those clothes off me, Gabriel!”

The doctor yelped when Utterson truly ripped his shirt open, then seized his two hands and tied his wrists together with his own cravat.

“Now behave.” The lawyer’s eyes were now smoky with desire, his voice setting his lover even more aflame.

When the sun raised in the rarely clear sky, Jekyll was snuggled up to his beloved in bed, breathing heavily and not feeling his legs anymore.

#the strange case of dr. jekyll and mr. hyde #dr jekyll and mr hyde #henry jekyll #gabriel utterson #edward hyde #gabriel john utterson #hastie lanyon #lady summers (OC)#jekson #jutterson

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