#I’m so serious whatever quality you think you have is excellent to me never be deterred by your idea of skill level | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

write-r-die · 2 years

Text

By Tomorrow - Chapter 9

Masterlist

A/N: This is quite rough but I just wanted to post it.

The next ten days passed without incident. Sybil’s courses came and went, but she didn’t say anything about it to Henry and he didn’t ask. She kissed him a handful of times, albeit fleetingly.

It seemed to Henry that she was leery of him again after that one kiss, at least physically. He was trying his best to seem docile and nonthreatening but it wasn’t working. What he really needed was to appear easygoing, and that was just not possible for someone as intense as him.

He considered going to Catherine for advice but never did.

In truth, Sybil was growing more comfortable with her husband every day. She only kept him at arm’s length because she didn’t want to get him worked up, so to speak. She believed he’d stop whatever he was doing if she asked him to, but she didn’t want to put him in that position at all. The best course of action to her was avoiding intimate situations altogether.

She still used Henry’s arm or shoulder as a pillow when they went to sleep at night, and she was more than happy to talk his ear off before bed – and first thing in the morning. And at meals. He was either getting used to her chatter or he was getting better at hiding his frustration. Not that it mattered to her either way.

Sybil tried to learn as much about him as she could without being too personal but it was difficult.

They lay in bed one night when she finally asked him. “What was your mother like?”

He thought for a moment. “Feisty.”

“Feisty?” Sybil repeated with a grin.

“That’s what my uncles have told me, in as many words.” His face softened. “She sounds like a bat out of hell in some of Uncle Patrick’s stories.”

“And Laird Arran’s?”

“Arran is the sort of person who isn’t bothered by someone’s worse qualities. The way he talks about her – he doesn’t make her sound like an angel, but he makes her seem good.”

“She was good,” Sybil said knowingly.

Henry glanced at her from the corner of his eye. He looked back up at the ceiling and grunted.

“And what was your father like?”

Henry’s bearing changed the slightest bit. He shrugged. “Never met him.”

“Did anyone ever tell you about him?” she asked hesitantly.

“No.”

There was a silence. “Is your father Maclean?” she finally blurted, and immediately regretted it.

But Henry didn’t seem bothered. “No.”

Sybil was so full of questions that she felt she was about to explode. Who was he? Who was he? Who was he? she wanted to scream. But she bit her tongue.

“He’s dead now,” Henry said thoughtfully – assuming that the man he believed to be his father was, indeed, his father.

Sybil scooched a bit closer. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. It’s not like I lost him.” You can lose what you never had in the first place.

“Still.”

There was a long silence.

“Henry?” she asked softly.

“Hmm?”

“Thank you.”

He gave her a puzzled look.

“For being so obliging,” she said, as though it was obvious.

He just grunted.

“I’m serious,” she insisted. “Not many gentlemen would be as . . . understanding of me.”

“You’re not half as bad as you seem to think you are.” He meant to sound teasing but there was too much meaning behind his words.

***

Sybil wasn’t raised to be a homemaker. She was good enough at keeping house and the food she prepared was edible, but it wasn’t something she particularly enjoyed or exceled at.

Catherine, raised as a commoner before marrying a baron’s son, didn’t mind such work, and she was fairly good at it. And she habitually fretted over Sybil these days, so it took little effort for Sybil to trick her friend into taking over these tasks.

“Do people really do this all day?” Sybil asked. She sat with her elbow propped on the wooden table and her chin resting in her palm, watching Catherine scrub out a pot for her.

“Not everyone is a baron’s daughter,” said Catherine.

“Of course not,” Sybil agreed, “but it still must be unpleasant to sit inside all day and tend to other people’s needs.”

“That’s what I did before I was married,” Catherine said. “I helped my mother when I was young, and when she died I did it alone.”

“Yes, but did you enjoy it?”

Catherine straightened up and sighed. “I’ve always been happy to look after Finn. Really, it’s all I’ve ever done. But I’ll admit that I disliked my father from time to time. Men make such a fuss over their toughness and independence and then they can’t even launder their own clothes.”

“It seems hypocritical,” her friend agreed. “We take more care of them than they do of us, usually.”

Catherine peered at her friend. “Do you take care of Henry?”

“Me? No, don’t be ridiculous; I can barely make his supper. I can make and mend clothes as well as any seamstress, but that’s all but useless. Henry’s content to wear his clothes until they fall off him.”

“That’s true.” There was a beat. “Does he take care of you?”

Sybil contorted her face. “I don’t like the way you say that.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t know. It just – it doesn’t sound right. I don’t want to be taken care of; I’m not a child.”

“Does he, though? Take care of you?”

“Yes. I think so. He doesn’t know what he’s doing any more than I do, but he’s trying. He treats me well. Better than I deserve, probably.”

The pot clattered as Catherine shoved it into the washbasin. “I hate it when you say things like that. You deserve to be treated with kindness as much as anyone. More, even. And don’t try to say otherwise,” she warned when Sybil opened her mouth.

“All right, I won’t.” Sybil stood, her chair scraping against the floor. “Come. Let’s go outside. I don’t know if you’re bored but I certainly am.”

***

Henry returned early from the hunt he undertook that morning with Will and Alistair and a few others, though the rest chose to continue.

He hadn’t caught a damn thing; his concentration was nonexistent. Every time something darted past, he imagined the scrunched-face expression Sybil made whenever she saw him clean a kill – worse, the hopeful yet apologetic look she wore when he took the first bite of whatever barely-palatable dish she made from it.

The first night she cooked for him, soon after they moved into the cottage, he didn’t do a good enough job of hiding his distaste and she burst into tears. He was horrified and completely at a loss for what to do so he just sat there and stared at her, mortified, for several minutes until she regained her composure.

“I only cried because I have my – I mean, it’s not because of you,” she assured him. “I’m simply prone to weeping sometimes.”

And Henry, never one to apologize, demonstrated his contrition by having a second serving and practically licking his plate clean every night thereafter. She probably knew he was inwardly grimacing with each bite, but it seemed to please her. It was exhausting to look after his wife’s delicate feelings, just as he’d anticipated, but that was his duty.

And anyway, he liked it when she smiled.

Henry was walking along to dirt path that led downhill to his cottage, the woods on one side of him and clusters of dwellings on the other, when he was waylaid.

Catherine shrieked a laugh as she burst through the trees and onto the walking path, looking over her shoulder as she collided with her cousin hard enough to make him grunt.

Henry put his hands on her upper arms to steady her. “What are you doing?”

Finn bounded out from between the trees, a wide smile on his face as he reached toward his sister. Catherine laughed again and hid behind Henry. Finn touched Henry’s arm with a look of triumph on his lovely face. “You!” he declared.

“What are you doing?” Henry asked again.

“Playing a game.” Sybil emerged from the trees, chest heaving as she tried to catch her breath. “Is Finn still chasing?” she asked Catherine.

“He caught Henry, so I suppose he’s the chaser now,” her friend replied.

Henry grunted instead of asking for a proper explanation. Sybil understood.

“One of the things my parents used to do to tire us all out so we would all sleep.” She paused, putting a hand on her ribs where a stitch had formed. “One person chases the others around. If the chaser catches someone by touching them, that person becomes the chaser. I know you’re doubtful, but it’s actually quite enjoyable. We got a handful of the children to play with us the other day while you and the other warriors were all sparring by the keep. It was grand.”

Finn walked over to Henry and pushed him gently. “You,” he said again, a wide grin on his face.

Henry considered for a moment before growling, “Fine.”

Finn darted off into the trees.

“Finn tagged you. You’re the chaser!” Catherine sped off in her brother’s direction.

Sybil stayed where she was for the moment. Her face was flushed and her hair had come loose.

“Shouldn’t you run?” Henry asked flatly.

“Shouldn’t you?” she countered.

Henry narrowed his eyes as Sybil lifted her skirts and started in the direction of the brook. He followed at a relaxed pace; Sybil appeared again when she realized he wasn’t hot on her heels.

“You’re meant to chase me!”

“I am chasing you.”

“No, you’re taking a leisurely stroll in my general direction,” Sybil chided. “The purpose is to catch me.”

“But if I catch you then the game will be over,” Henry said.

Sybil rolled her eyes; he cracked a smile.

He never did catch her. Finn, so enamored of the game, threw himself into Henry’s path just before he tagged Sybil, and became the chaser himself. He mostly liked to chase his sister.

“All right!” Henry called after about half an hour of running. They had all caught up to each other by the stream. “I yield.”

“As do I,” said Sybil, clutching a stitch in her side. “Finn, you are the winner.”

“No surprise there,” Catherine said. She touched Finn’s arm and he turned his angelic smile on her. “Shall we take a break to eat? Henry, Sybil, join us for lunch at the keep.”

“Gladly,” Sybil said. Henry was relieved but he tried not to show it; the last thing he wanted was to eat another of his wife’s meals, especially when he was in such an odd mood as he was today.

Finn rode on Henry’s back as they walked to the keep, past the clearing of grass that separated the keep from the slope of the hill and the cottages, where a handful of men were practicing archery. There was a little girl amongst them, whom Sybil greeted by name. the girl waved back emphatically, shouting hello to her and Catherine, then to Finn – and, sheepishly, to Henry.

They all adored him, of course. He was big and strong and handsome, and though he was quiet and serious he sometimes gifted the children with smiles that had them blushing and hiding their faces. Little girls simply couldn’t help falling in love with him – no girls could, really.

The cook, who everybody just called Cook, had a noon meal ready when they arrived at the keep. Arran and Patrick had just tucked into eat.

“Back so soon, Henry?” Patrick called as Henry slid Finn from his back and onto his feet. “We weren’t expecting you back until nightfall.”

“No luck with hunting?” Arran asked.

“Not for me,” Henry said.

“He gave up and came back early,” Catherine said, taking her seat.

“I received a message from Laird Macpherson today,” Arran said. “His brother Colin would like to visit. Check in on the horse he gave you.”

“Check in on Catherine, he means.” The horse thing was a flimsy excuse at best.

Sybil didn’t realize she’d spoken aloud until Patrick snorted.

“Quite right,” he said. “I’m starting to think we should have left you in England, Cate. We’ve got the Macphersons coming at us from one angle, the Kincaids from another, and possibly even the Macleans from –”

“Macleans?” Henry’s voice was low and sharp enough that Sybil shivered. He noticed her reaction and tried to soften himself but couldn’t leash his anger. “What have they said to you?”

Patrick almost winced; he hadn’t intended to mention that name.

“One of the younger ones sent a note saying he was sorry to hear of my loss,” Catherine said dismissively, but Sybil could tell that it meant something to her.

“The second one, Cameron,” Arran assured Henry. “The one who’s always trying to make peace. He congratulated you on your marriage to Sybil in that note as well.”

“He was being polite,” Catherine agreed.

Henry relaxed slightly but continued to scowl. Cameron was actually – surprisingly – a decent fellow, but no Maclean was without sin in Henry’s eyes.

He did not know the every detail of what happened between Helen, his late mother, and Laird Maclean, but he knew enough – that he had a habit of beating Helen; that Helen tried to escape back to her family several times, only to be turned away by her father; that the marriage was unofficially ended when Maclean abandoned Helen along the Cavills’ border – and of course, the events which led up to that abandonment.

Sybil didn’t know any of this yet, but she did know now was not the time to inquire.

“Finn bested us all today,” she said brightly, eager to change the subject. “He outran all of us, even Henry. And Henry was quite gentlemanly about it all; he conceded defeat very nobly. I was a very fast runner when I was his age but I don’t think I was ever as fast as him – Finn, I mean, not Henry, of course. Henry is a fine runner but I’ve never been his age and I won’t be for a few years yet, though I suppose when I am, we can see how fast I run then compared to how he runs now. Henry, how old are you exactly? I don’t believe I’ve ever asked.”

Henry knew better than to try to answer her. Sure enough, she launched into a monologue in which she attempted to calculate his age based on her age difference relative to Catherine’s, and Catherine’s age difference to Henry. This of course devolved into a one-sided discussion about Sybil’s difficulties with arithmetic and questions about who taught the Cavill children and what they taught them and how.

The Cavills all seemed relieved when the meal came to an end.

Finn had tired himself out with all that running, and Arran suggested he go rest in the barracks until it was time for them to go riding this afternoon. Even Catherine, who had a high tolerance for her friend’s soul-sucking ramblings, seemed tired and distracted.

Henry and Sybil dallied for a long while, first just sitting at the table and then walking in loops around the great hall. Sybil finally stopped at the foot of the stairs.

“You let me win at the chasing game today, didn’t you?” she asked shyly.

“I didn’t,” Henry said, leaning against the wooden banister at the bottom of the stairs. “Finn bested all of us, if you’ll remember.”

“So you let him win, then.”

Henry shook his head. “I wish that were true.”

Sybil had just given in to a shy smile when the shouting started.

The heavy doors to the hall burst open and half a dozen men came clamoring in, all shouting over each other in Gaelic.

The eight men from this morning’s hunting party came crashing into the hall, three of them carrying something big and bloody between them. It was the wrong shape and size for a deer or a wolf – or any sort of animal.

Henry’s face returned to its blank state. He gripped Sybil’s upper arms as she turned her head to look over her shoulder. “What’s going on?” she asked, brows furrowed, as Henry twisted to put himself between her and whatever was happening, blocking her view.

He didn’t reply.

“Henry,” Sybil prompted.

He didn’t look at her. “Shh.”

The hunters dumped whatever it was they were holding onto the table as the laird and the other men in the hall crowded around. The thing groaned.

“That’s not an animal. It’s a boy,” Sybil gasped.

“Uncle?” Henry called.

Arran did not reply. He was studying the boy’s face, a look of horror slowly overtaking his features; he recognized the young man who lay dying on his table.

“This is Laird Maclean’s boy.” He lifted his gaze to the warriors around him. “This is Maclean’s boy,” he said again. “What’s happened to him?”

“It were an accident, Laird,” said the youngest Cavill warrior. Sybil didn’t know his name, though she knew they’d been introduced before. “We were hunting in the woods and his horse – he –”

“The deer we were after must’ve come from the Maclean territory and ran into ours,” a triplet said. “The boy was hunting it. An arrow, I think –”

“Get to it, lad,” Arran growled.

“His must have stumbled,” Owen interjected. “Perhaps one of our arrows flew too close. None of us saw him fall, but he looks like he was trampled.”

The laird cursed under his breath. “Fuck.” He turned and called to another of the triplets. “Tell the women and children to stay in their homes if they can. And no one’s to go past the furthest cottage in any direction. Understood?”

“Yes, Father,” the triplet said.

“Jamison, Keir, you go with him. And someone fetch the damned healer! Bring the midwives, too, if you can find them. They may be able to stop the bleeding.”

“Yes, Laird.” The three hustled out of the hall.

“That’s Laird Maclean’s son?” Sybil asked, peering at the moaning boy. “Which one is he?” Surely not the son she was originally meant to marry.

Henry did not reply. He grabbed his wife’s upper arms again and hauled her up the stairs toward the bedrooms.

“Ow, Henry,” Sybil said pointedly. “Your grip is far too tight.” He loosened his hold but she kept on talking. “Has my arm wronged you in some way? If you intend to punish it, you must at least -”

He slung her towards the door to Catherine’s room. “Stay here.”

“Why? Certainly there’s no danger from an injured boy. Perhaps I could help you stitch his wounds with needle and thread.”

“Stitch?” Henry repeated. “You would embroider him?”

“No, don’t be ridiculous. It’s another way to seal up a wound if a hot knife won’t work. I stitched up my brothers and sisters plenty of times when they injured –”

“Henry!” Arran shouted.

“Aye, Uncle. A moment,” Henry called down the stairs. He turned back to Sybil with a fearsome look on his face. “Go into Catherine’s room and stay there until I come to fetch you.”

“What for?”

“Because I am your husband and I’ve given you an order.” The look on his face would have terrified her if she’d seen it only a week before. It certainly didn’t set her at ease, but it didn’t make her want to run screaming either.

“Can I not even go back to our cottage?” she pouted.

“No.”

That was the end of the discussion.

Henry raced down the stairs to help Arran without a farewell kiss or a word or even a look. Sybil lingered at the doorway in Catherine’s room until she was sure Henry was sufficiently distracted. Then she tiptoed to the edge of the balcony and knelt low to observe what was going on below.

“Patrick,” Arran called. “Take a few of the lads with you and ride straight for Maclean’s keep. Carry a white flag.” He swallowed hard, looking down at the moaning boy. “Someone’s got to tell the laird his son is dying.”

37 notes · View notes

lunarfly · 3 years

Text

Essay: Harry and Hermione’s chemistry

We all know that Emma and Daniel had excellent chemistry so Harry and Hermione naturally had great chemistry in the movies. It was quite obviously visible. But many book readers have claimed that Harry and Hermione’s chemistry only exists in the movies and they felt they lacked chemistry in the books. It can be quite tricky at first since the book scenes are only imagined in our heads and we can’t see the author’s imagination and her views on the scenes and interactions. But, luckily, canon has provided us with plenty of evidence that Harry and Hermione had excellent chemistry, visible to many people around them. Let’s take a look:

“That was a really horrible trick of Hermione Granger’s,” said Cho fiercely. “She should have told us she’d jinxed that list —”

“I think it was a brilliant idea,” said Harry coldly. Cho flushed and her eyes grew brighter.

“Oh yes, I forgot — of course, if it was darling Hermione’s idea —”

“Don’t start crying again,” said Harry warningly.

It’s very obvious that Cho has noticed how close Harry and Hermione are and she’s jealous, even suspicious that there’s something going on between them. It’s clear that whatever interaction between Harry and Hermione Cho has witnessed, they had chemistry.

If this was all of our evidence of H/Hr’s chemistry, I’d ignore it and assume Cho was only jealous because of their disastrous date when Harry left Cho to see Hermione. Perhaps most of her jealousy came from that scene. But this isn’t all of our evidence. We see even more people being jealous and getting suspicious about H/Hr’s relationship:

When at last they had reached a quiet stretch of ground a short way from the Beauxbatons horses’ paddock, Krum stopped in the shade of the trees and turned to face Harry.

“I vant to know,” he said, glowering, “vot there is between you and Hermyown-ninny.”

Harry, who from Krum’s secretive manner had expected something much more serious than this, stared up at Krum in amazement.

“Nothing,” he said. But Krum glowered at him, and Harry, somehow struck anew by how tall Krum was, elaborated.

“We’re friends. She’s not my girlfriend and she never has been. It’s just that Skeeter woman making things up.”

“Hermy-own-ninny talks about you very often,” said Krum, looking suspiciously at Harry.

“Yeah,” said Harry, “because we’re friends.”

He couldn’t quite believe he was having this conversation with Viktor Krum, the famous International Quidditch player. It was as though the eighteen-year-old Krum thought he, Harry, was an equal — a real rival —

Very interesting indeed. Not only is Krum so jealous that he’s “glowering” (”have an angry or sullen look on one's face; scowl”) at Harry, he also doesn’t believe Harry that he’s just friends with Hermione, even after he explained it very clearly. He still adds how much Hermione talks about Harry, he’s looking suspicious and feels the need of a reconfirmation that H/Hr are not dating. It’s possible that Rita Skeeter’s articles are influencing his thoughts and sure, Hermione talks about Harry a lot (already indicating that she’s very passionate about Harry, we talk about things we like, or feel strong emotions about) and that could be the only thing that makes Krum “suspicious” about H/Hr but would he really still be that jealous if there was absolutely no chemistry between Harry and Hermione? This is definitely a clue on Harry and Hermione’s chemistry in the books.

Another extremely interesting detail is that Harry is enjoying this. He likes the idea of Krum being his equal, a rival! This has nothing to do with their chemistry, of course, but it’s definitely suspicious...

Still think there’s no chemistry between them? Here’s another person who noticed that Harry and Hermione were very close, a little too close:

Harry has at last found love at Hogwarts. His close friend, Colin Creevey, says that Harry is rarely seen out of the company of one Hermione Granger, a stunningly pretty Muggle-born girl who, like Harry, is one of the top students in the school.

So Colin Creevey noticed how much time they spend together, but I just can’t believe that’s the only thing making him believe they’re in love! There has to be some noticeable chemistry between them to come to this conclusion.

I know it’s Rita Skeeter assuming that H/Hr are so close only because they’re dating, but Colin probably told her more than it’s written here. Would Rita believe Colin that Harry and Hermione are boyfriend and girlfriend merely because he said they hang out often? I don’t think so. I think Colin elaborated on his suspicions of H/Hr. But maybe it was just one of Rita Skeeter’s exaggerations. Either way, there’s more proof of their chemistry:

“Are you going to tell us — ?”

Hermione shook her head warningly and glanced at Mrs. Weasley.

“Hello, Hermione,” said Mrs. Weasley, much more stiffly than usual.

“Hello,” said Hermione, her smile faltering at the cold expression on Mrs. Weasley’s face.

Harry looked between them, then said, “Mrs. Weasley, you didn’t believe that rubbish Rita Skeeter wrote in Witch Weekly, did you? Because Hermione’s not my girlfriend.”

“Oh!” said Mrs. Weasley. “No — of course I didn’t!”

But she became considerably warmer toward Hermione after that.

So even Molly believed that Harry and Hermione were boyfriend and girlfriend (and Hermione had ‘broken Harry’s heart’)? Come on, their chemistry was so noticeable that even Molly thought it was believable enough. ...Although Molly does believe everything that newspapers and magazines say. And maybe she didn’t know them well enough because she assumed Hermione could break Harry’s heart.

Still don’t believe that Harry and Hermione had lots of chemistry in the books? Maybe you’re right, we need to actually see the chemistry, not just have others notice it. And guess what? We do get to see their chemistry. This often happens when Ron becomes suspicious of a possible H/Hr relationship. Ron, their closest friend who knows basically everything about them, suspects that Harry and Hermione are secretly in love. And he is quite rightly suspicious of them when we have moments like these demonstrating their perfect chemistry in the books:

“We’ll go down after Quidditch,” Harry assured her. He too was missing Hagrid, although like Ron he thought that they were better off without Grawp in their lives. “But trials might take all morning, the number of people who have applied.” He felt slightly nervous at confronting the first hurdle of his Captaincy. “I dunno why the team’s this popular all of a sudden.”

“Oh, come on, Harry,” said Hermione, suddenly impatient. “It’s not Quidditch that’s popular, it’s you! You’ve never been more interesting, and frankly, you’ve never been more fanciable.”

Ron gagged on a large piece of kipper. Hermione spared him one look of disdain before turning back to Harry.

“Everyone knows you’ve been telling the truth now, don’t they? The whole Wizarding world has had to admit that you were right about Voldemort being back and that you really have fought him twice in the last two years and escaped both times. And now they’re calling you ‘the Chosen One’ — well, come on, can’t you see why people are fascinated by you?”

Harry was finding the Great Hall very hot all of a sudden, even though the ceiling still looked cold and rainy.

“And you’ve been through all that persecution from the Ministry when they were trying to make out you were unstable and a liar. You can still see the marks on the back of your hand where that evil woman made you write with your own blood, but you stuck to your story anyway. . . .”

“You can still see where those brains got hold of me in the Ministry, look,” said Ron, shaking back his sleeves.

“And it doesn’t hurt that you’ve grown about a foot over the summer either,” Hermione finished, ignoring Ron.

“I’m tall,” said Ron inconsequentially.

Wow. Hermione really made up a whole monologue about Harry being fanciable and attractive! If this conversation doesn’t convince you that there was chemistry between them, probably nothing will. Let’s analyze this scene:

Hermione starts talking about Harry and how fanciable he is, how interesting he is, how attractive looks and qualities he has, going on and on... Hermione is clearly showing her interest in Harry and basically flirting with him. But what interests me is this moment:

Harry was finding the Great Hall very hot all of a sudden, even though the ceiling still looked cold and rainy.

He’s actually blushing. Hermione’s compliments have a very obvious effect on him. But something that fascinates me more is the way this is written. He isn’t just blushing, no. Harry never said something like:

Harry was feeling his face growing very hot all of a sudden.

Instead, we have the Great Hall going “very hot”. It isn’t just his face and his blush, it’s the whole hall. This indicates clear tension between Harry and Hermione.

You could say that all of these compliments that Hermione is giving Harry are just facts and reasons why other girls find him attractive. But this isn’t the case. There’s obvious romantic tension between them.

Another thing to note is Ron’s jealousy. He “gags on a large piece of kipper” and he keeps interrupting Hermione, saying and showing why he is fanciable too. The chemistry is undeniable at this point.

You could argue that Hermione was complimenting Harry to make Ron jealous, that his suspicions were expected and intended. And it does seem so at first sight: Hermione compliments Harry in front of Ron, also being very impatient as if she had been planning this conversation, as well as pointing out lots of “fanciable” things that apply to Ron as well (the scars, the height), ignoring Ron to make him more jealous. You may be tricked into thinking so. But this isn’t the case.

First of all, if she wanted to make Ron jealous, don’t you think Hermione would’ve been enjoying the reaction? Why is she giving him these “looks of disdain”(note that this isn’t the first time she has given him nasty looks)? Wouldn’t she be looking away from him, smiling to herself? At least looking a little pleased?

And if she really wanted to make Ron jealous, why would she use Harry of everyone? Maybe because he and Ron had a lot of similarities that could be convenient for making him jealous? But this isn’t like Hermione at all. This isn’t her technique of making people jealous.

“What’s happened to you?” asked Harry, for Hermione looked distinctly disheveled, rather as though she had just fought her way out of a thicket of Devil’s Snare.

“Oh, I’ve just escaped — I mean, I’ve just left Cormac,” she said. “Under the mistletoe,” she added in explanation, as Harry continued to look questioningly at her.

“Serves you right for coming with him,” he told her severely.

“I thought he’d annoy Ron most,” said Hermione dispassionately. “I debated for a while about Zacharias Smith, but I thought, on the whole —”

“You considered Smith?” said Harry, revolted.

“Yes, I did, and I’m starting to wish I’d chosen him, McLaggen makes Grawp look a gentleman. Let’s go this way, we’ll be able to see him coming, he’s so tall. . . .”

Hermione picks the people Ron despises the most to make him jealous - like Cormac McLaggen and Zacharias Smith. Hermione had no reason to use Harry to make Ron jealous. She had no reason to make Ron jealous at all. So that argument is definitely debunked.

Could Hermione have told Harry all of these things because she really didn’t mean them and was just pointing them out from a different teenage girl’s point of view? That just can’t be the case. Otherwise she would’ve been complimenting Ron too. If the only purpose for this speech was to show Harry his attractive traits, she would’ve laughed at Ron’s remarks and agreed that he was fanciable too in other girls’ eyes because he had many of the same “fanciable” traits.

So Hermione was definitely showing her attraction towards Harry which is also made obvious by Harry’s reaction to it and the romantic tension between them that even Ron couldn’t deny.

Believe it or not, this isn’t the only moment when Harry and Hermione are literally flirting. Take a look at another scene of Ron third wheeling Harry and Hermione and looking suspicious:

As they came into the castle they spotted Cormac McLaggen entering the Great Hall. It took him two attempts to get through the doors; he ricocheted off the frame on the first attempt. Ron merely guffawed gloatingly and strode off into the Hall after him, but Harry caught Hermione’s arm and held her back.

“What?” said Hermione defensively.

“If you ask me,” said Harry quietly, “McLaggen looks like he was Confunded this morning. And he was standing right in front of where you were sitting.” Hermione blushed.

“Oh, all right then, I did it,” she whispered. “But you should have heard the way he was talking about Ron and Ginny! Anyway, he’s got a nasty temper, you saw how he reacted when he didn’t get in — you wouldn’t have wanted someone like that on the team.”

“No,” said Harry. “No, I suppose that’s true. But wasn’t that dishonest, Hermione? I mean, you’re a prefect, aren’t you?”

“Oh, be quiet,” she snapped, as he smirked.

“What are you two doing?” demanded Ron, reappearing in the doorway to the Great Hall and looking suspicious.

“Nothing,” said Harry and Hermione together, and they hurried after Ron. The smell of roast beef made Harry’s stomach ache with hunger, but they had barely taken three steps toward the Gryffindor table when Professor Slughorn appeared in front of them, blocking their path.

Try denying their chemistry here.

Just imagine two (straight) friends of the opposite gender, the boy grabbing the girl’s arm and turning her around (the tension!!!) and her acting all defensive, and then the boy telling her something that makes her blush and admit something while whispering. Then the boy jokingly teasing her about it and smirking while the girl tells him to be quiet playfully. Yeah, that’s called flirting and they have extremely obvious chemistry.

The funnier part is Ron noticing this and suspiciously confronting Harry and Hermione while they quickly say “nothing” at the same time and catch up with him.

I don’t think an explanation is even necessary, anyone who denies their chemistry in this scene is basically lying to themselves and is willingly blinding themselves.

Here’s another interesting scene from HBP with Ron getting jealous of H/Hr’s chemistry once again:

Malfoy looked rather as he had done the time Hermione had punched him in the face. Hermione turned to Harry with a radiant expression and whispered, “Did you really tell him I’m the best in the year? Oh, Harry!”

“Well, what’s so impressive about that?” whispered Ron, who for some reason looked annoyed. “You are the best in the year — I’d’ve told him so if he’d asked me!”

Hermione smiled but made a “shhing” gesture, so that they could hear what Slughorn was saying. Ron looked slightly disgruntled.

Here Harry and Hermione’s chemistry isn’t really made clear but just look at the way Hermione turns to Harry. He literally sees her expression as “radiant” (this adjective has also been used to describe Ginny’s smile) and Hermione looks simply delighted. They were clearly having a great moment here, so good, in fact, that Ron becomes jealous and annoyed and tries to pretend Harry’s compliment wasn’t a big deal. He compliments Hermione the same way as Harry did but she doesn’t have such a “radiant” smile this time, does she? Instead she shushes him(poor Ron just wanted attention from his future wife!). Ron has every right to be disgruntled in this scene.

This is the third time in HBP that Ron is third-wheeling Harry and Hermione. Whether anti-H/Hrs want to admit it or not, Ron is a third-wheel to Harry and Hermione very often and becomes very jealous of their chemistry. JKR, it really isn’t funny, where are the R/Hr flirting moments? They’re supposed to be the endgame couple, aren’t they? Why do you have so many moments between Harry and Hermione when they’re clearly flirting and demonstrating what excellent chemistry looks like?

Apparently, Harry and Hermione have had such chemistry in the past that, even when they’re not flirting, Ron still becomes suspicious of Harry and Hermione’s ‘possible secret relationship’:

“Because she was crying,” Harry continued heavily.

“Oh,” said Ron, his smile fading slightly. “Are you that bad at kissing?”

“Dunno,” said Harry, who hadn’t considered this, and immediately felt rather worried. “Maybe I am.”

“Of course you’re not,” said Hermione absently, still scribbling away at her letter.

“How do you know?” said Ron in a sharp voice.

“Because Cho spends half her time crying these days,” said Hermione vaguely. “She does it at mealtimes, in the loos, all over the place.”

Ron suspected that Harry and Hermione had kissed before. His suspects are quite obvious, judging from the tone of his voice. No matter how insecure Ron is, he is still their best friend, he should know that they’re not interested into each other romantically. But it seems like it’s so apparent to everyone that Harry and Hermione have something going on.

Here’s another moment showing us Harry and Hermione’s chemistry:

“Harry!” Hermione cried.

“I know!” Harry shouted. Unable to contain himself, he punched the air; it was more than he had dared to hope for. He strode up and down the tent, feeling that he could have run a mile; he did not even feel hungry anymore. Hermione was squashing Phineas Nigellus’s portrait back into the beaded bag; when she had fastened the clasp she threw the bag aside and raised a shining face to Harry.

“The sword can destroy Horcruxes! Goblin-made blades imbibe only that which strengthen them — Harry, that sword’s impregnated with basilisk venom!”

“And Dumbledore didn’t give it to me because he still needed it, he wanted to use it on the locket —”

“— and he must have realized they wouldn’t let you have it if he put it in his will —”

“— so he made a copy —”

“— and put a fake in the glass case —”

“— and he left the real one — where?”

They gazed at each other; Harry felt that the answer was dangling invisibly in the air above them, tantalizingly close. Why hadn’t Dumbledore told him? Or had he, in fact, told Harry, but Harry had not realized it at the time?

“Think!” whispered Hermione. “Think! Where would he have left it?”

“Not at Hogwarts,” said Harry, resuming his pacing.

“Somewhere in Hogsmeade?” suggested Hermione.

“The Shrieking Shack?” said Harry. “Nobody ever goes in there.”

“But Snape knows how to get in, wouldn’t that be a bit risky?”

“Dumbledore trusted Snape,” Harry reminded her.

“Not enough to tell him that he had swapped the swords,” said Hermione.

“Yeah, you’re right!” said Harry, and he felt even more cheered at the thought that Dumbledore had had some reservations, however faint, about Snape’s trustworthiness. “So, would he have hidden the sword well away from Hogsmeade, then? What d’you reckon, Ron? Ron?”

Harry looked around. For one bewildered moment he thought that Ron had left the tent, then realized that Ron was lying in the shadow of a lower bunk, looking stony.

Just look at the intensity of this scene!

Firstly, when Harry and Hermione find out exciting news, they figure it out themselves and alone, they didn’t even think of Ron. Then look at how happy Harry and Hermione are feeling, their hopes high, their spirits lifted, their excitement causing the tension! Hermione’s face is “shining”!

Then they start discussing, knowing what the other is thinking and finishing each other’s sentences! The way they interact is precious, they’re “gazing” at each other, feeling something “tantalizingly close.” They start whispering. It’s so intense and full of tension and chemistry. They’re so excited. They even completely forgot about Ron(I feel so bad for him), Harry even thought that he had left.

This is one of the strongest Harmione scenes ever, the chemistry between them is incomparable to anyone else’s. Just imagine being Ron right now, watching the love of your life have this intense conversation with your and her best friend, sharing this exciting moment, experiencing all of this without you. And you just sit there and watch. Just watch. Ron’s jealousy, intensified by the horcrux, was the one thing that made him leave Harry and Hermione in the tent. And Ron did have a reason to be jealous.

So they do have chemistry in the books, everyone sees it, including Harry and Hermione’s dates, their closest friend, their “families”, their fans. Everyone except for anti-Harmiones. I tried making up excuses for why others assume Harry and Hermione are together, that maybe I’m misinterpreting something and it’s not because of their chemistry. But when you put everything together, it should become obvious. You have to be insanely biased and willingly ignore everything to come to the conclusion that they don’t have any chemistry.

I’m not even going in detail about physical contact between them. It would take too long. They grab each other’s hand/arm, they hold onto each other for strength and protect each other, they’re very comfortable with hugs and kisses and their physical connection is another piece of proof of their undeniable chemistry.

Even JKR has admitted that they had some “charged moments” in DH in the tent, which is her way of saying that they had intense chemistry:

[Kloves] felt a certain pulll between them at that point. And I think he's right. There are moments when [Harry and Hermione] touch, which are charged moments. One when she touches his hair as he sits on the hiltop reading about Dumbledore and Grindelwald, and [two] the moment when they walk out of the graveyard with their arms around each other. Now the fact is that Hermione shares moments with Harry that Ron will never be able to participate in. He walked out. She shared something very intense with Harry. So I think it could have gone that way.

In conclusion, Harry and Hermione have excellent chemistry in the books, even better and stronger than in the movies. None of the movie scenes showed their chemistry with this intensity. Their romantic tension was much better in the books. Harry and Hermione have chemistry.

556 notes · View notes

robininthelabyrinth · 3 years

Note

Prompt three: WWX hoped that JYL meeting WN is gonna help her to understand that JZX is a trash. It ends with JZX having a crisis because he discovered that he has a thing for a very kind and loyal people of both genders, WN trying not to panic over all those feelings,JYL who tries to help them understand that all of them are into each other and she is very happy for idea of having two husbands.

“Look, shijie!” Wei Wuxian said brightly. “I found you a much better fiancé!”

Jiang Yanli covered her smile with her sleeve.

“…help…” whimpered the beleaguered young man who Wei Wuxian had clearly all but kidnapped. Possibly he had. By force. She wouldn’t put it past him.

It was very like Wei Wuxian to kidnap a Wen while a guest in the Nightless City.

“Leave him alone, A-Xian,” she scolded gently, then turned a smile on the boy in question, who turned red as a ripe chili. Clearly very shy. “What’s your name?”

“Ah!” he exclaimed, clearly horrified by his rudeness, and immediately went into a salute. It was a very earnest salute, she would give it that much; it wasn’t very good on any other respect. “This o-one is W-Wen Ning – courtesy name, Wen Qionglin –”

Oh, and he stuttered, too. How adorable.

“And what fine qualities do you have to recommend yourself to me as my future husband?” Jiang Yanli asked, eyes twinkling, and laughed when the boy choked on air.

“He’s nice,” Wei Wuxian proclaimed. “And an excellent archer – you should see him, shijie –!”

“Anything else?”

“That’s all he knows about me,” Wen Ning mumbled. “We didn’t have time to talk about anything else…”

“He gave me directions! That suggests a kind heart!”

“Or pity,” Jiang Yanli remarked. “Given how well-marked the path to get here was.”

“Ouch. Shijie, I feel so attacked, and after all the hard work I’ve done to find you something to repair your broken heart –”

“He just does this,” she told Wen Ning in a whisper. “It’s not you, and he’s not serious. Don’t worry.”

Wen Ning exhaled a sigh of relief, then blanched. “Uh, not – not that there’s – anything wrong with – with marrying –”

“Don’t worry about it,” Jiang Yanli said, having to press her lips together to keep from laughing. “Really! I don’t take any offense. Anyway, shouldn’t you be going to prepare for the contest? If you’re as good an archer as A-Xian says, and I have no reason to doubt it, I look forward to seeing your results.”

However, it seemed that Wen Ning was not destined to enter the archery competition – when Wen Chao forced him to perform in front of everyone to prove that he deserved the place, his base form was good, the draw excellent…his hand shook from fear, and so the arrow didn’t come anywhere near the target.

Jiang Yanli waved him over after he trudged out of the field looking disappointed. “Come sit by me,” she said, beckoning, and he drifted over uncertainly. “You can keep me company.”

He did, both during the competition and in the banquet afterwards, and Jiang Yanli – forever attuned to a very particular shade of gold – noticed that Jin Zixuan kept staring at both of them.

Eventually, she sent Wen Ning off to get her something from the kitchen and made her way over to him. They’d had a pretty decent relationship, she’d thought, before it had all broken down – her mother had visited Lanling fairly often, bringing Jiang Yanli along, although Madame Jin had virtually never returned the courtesy. Of course, then it had all broken down…

“Hello,” she said, and he ducked his head. “I shouldn’t talk to you?”

“No! I mean – yes! I mean – I mean – you can talk to me,” Jin Zixuan said, more than a little desperately. “I didn’t mean…I’m sorry.”

This, and not the dashing prince of wealth he liked to pretend to be when surrounded by his friends, was what Jiang Yanli had liked, when she’d thought about their engagement. Adorable was very much her thing.

“Maybe it wasn’t meant to be,” she said, and he looked disappointed. “Why were you looking at me, earlier?”

“Why shouldn’t I look at you?” he said, pouting. “You’re – you look – and who said I was looking at you? Maybe I was looking at the cute kid!”

“Wen-gongzi is only two months your junior,” Jiang Yanli said with a smile. “Hardly a kid…you think he’s cute, too?”

“I – I – I – you think he’s cute?”

“He is cute,” she said. “He stutters, it’s adorable.”

Jin Zixuan looked on the very verge of saying ‘well I stutter too!’, then apparently realized how stupid it would sound and flushed.

“He blushes very nicely too. A bit like you right now,” Jiang Yanli added, and grinned when his hands shot up to cover his cheeks before he realized and yanked them back down to his waist.

He glared half-heartedly at her. “Don’t tease,” he mumbled.

Jiang Yanli shrugged. “Well, think about it,” she said. “A-Xian is right about one thing, and it’s that, given everything, I’m now in the market for a cute husband.” She paused, considering, while pretending to ignore how huffy Jin Zixuan was getting. “Possibly two.”

“Two?!”

“Why not? If you think he’s cute, too. Wouldn’t you like one of each?”

“Well, yes, but – I mean no!”

“Whatever you say,” she said, hiding a smile again. “Have a good evening, Jin-gongzi. Congratulations on placing in the archery competition…pity Wen-gongzi wasn’t able to compete. I understand from A-Xian that he’s very good when he’s not under public pressure.”

She caught his intrigued look.

“Perhaps you should try him out sometime,” she suggested, and he blinked owlishly at her, then looked shocked at the (extremely minor) bit of innuendo. She smiled at him and headed back over to her corner just in time to encounter Wen Ning, back from his visit to the kitchens. “Thank you.”

Wen Ning blinked at her. “For what?”

Jiang Yanli glanced behind her at Jin Zixuan, who was staring intently at both of them. “Vastly improving my evening,” she said. “In ways you can’t even imagine.”

#mdzs #jiang yanli #jin zixuan #wen ning #wei wuxian #my fic #my fics #rosyjskikefirek

426 notes · View notes

forever-rogue · 3 years

Note

if i can send another request: uh how about reader is a helper in marcus moreno's house and she thinks her feelings are unrequited bc she helps marcus get ready to go on a date. And then she has to look over missy while hes on the date and missy is like: u like him right. And reader is like: no way thats unprofessional. And missy looks at her like really? And finally reader caves and says yeah i like you. And at the very end marcus ends up confessing he does like reader and it ends happy? 😭😭

I love 1 (one) crime fighting hero/tired dad. This got real soft, enjoy!

Marcus Moreno x fem!reader; warnings: slight language

Pedro Characters Masterlist

»»————-　♡　————-««

“Thanks for doing this," Marcus' voice is soft as he calls to you from his bedroom. You remind yourself of the current situation and plaster on the best smile you could muster up. But you weren't fooling yourself - or Missy for that matter. She rolled her eyes as she passed by and headed to the kitchen table to start homework; she had a lot to say but it could wait for now.

"Its no problem, Marcus," you promised through slightly gritted teeth as you reminded yourself that you had no reason to be jealous - no reason to have feelings other than friendly for your closest friend.

"C-can you help me real quick?" there was an almost nervous quality to his voice as you made a small sound of confirmation before pushing open the door to his bedroom. Your jaw almost dropped sight; Marcus was standing in front of his mirror, looking more handsome than anyone should have legally been allowed to.

Opting to stick with his love of black on black, he was sporting a pair of well fitting black trousers and a black button that displayed the muscles of his back whenever he moved. You barely caught yourself when you realized he was holding two ties in his hand and displayed them to you.

Flitting over to him, you took both options and shook your head, tossing them into the bed. He didn't say anything but raised a brow in amusement, "no tie. Just what you have on is fine. The black on black is an excellent choice."

"Yeah?" he asked as a nervous smile tugged on the corners of his mouth, "its not too...depressing?"

"Not at all, its very se- you look good Marcus," you promised him as he let out a nervous huff of laughter, "she's going a lucky lady, and she's going to love you."

"Hmm," he mused for a moment, turning his gaze to you in the mirror and trying to read your expression. You quickly dropped your eyes, not sure if you were quite ready to cross that bridge just yet - or ever. His hands went to the top buttons and he quickly undid a few, exposing the smallest amounts of golden skin, "listen, I-"

"I should go and help Missy with her homework," you quickly cut him off before anything else could happen or heavens forbid you confessed your undying love then and there, "and you finish getting ready, mister!"

Before anything else could be said, you darted out of his room and towards the kitchen where Missy was pretending to be engrossed in a book. You knew she was keen on getting as much information as possible and had not doubt been trying to listen in. She closed her book as you took a seat next to her and offered her a small smile.

"How does pizza sound for dinner? We can even go crazy and get ice cream for dessert," you suggested and despite her attempt at a serious look her eyes lit up with excitement as she nodded, "don't worry, we won't tell your dad. It'll be our secret."

"Alright ladies," Marcus came out of the bedroom now sporting that damned leather jacket that made you weak in the knees on top of it all. It was the glasses, perched smartly on his nose that set you off though. How could one man look so good? Practically unfair. Missy nudged your leg to snap out of your little daydream as you caught yourself, "I'm headed off. I won't be back too late. Missy, I want all your homework done and bed at a reasonable hour."

"Fine dad," she groaned as she pulled her folder out of her background with the day's homework.

"And you," he turn his attention back to you as you felt a flush of warmth wash over your face, "are an absolute angel. I don't know what I'd do without you. I owe you big time."

"Don't worry about a thing," you insisted as you motioned your head towards the door, "now go and have fun, Marcus. You deserve it."

"Thanks," there was that stupid, silly, soft smile on his face again, "see you tonight."

With a small wave, he was off on his date. There was a soft tugging on your heart and the back of your eyes burned ever so slightly. You took a breath to collect yourself and decided to ignore it all. It didn't matter anyways, Marcus was going on a date with not you, and whoever she was, she would undoubtedly fall in love with him. It was Marcus Moreno, after all, who wouldn't fall in love?

Missy watched you silently for a few moments before deciding not to bring anything up...not just yet anyway.

»»————-　♡　————-««

“You should tell him you know,” Missy said through a mouthful of ice cream - chocolate chip cookie dough with lots of brownie and fudge, her all time favorite. Your brow furrowed in confusion as you tried to figure out what she could possibly mean. Your stomach churned at the realization, “my dad - you should tell him you like him.”

“W-why would I do that?” you stammered nervously as you tried to keep your face neutral. Missy groaned at your vain attempt as it become very obvious that the young girl knew exactly how you felt, “Missy, I can’t do that. He doesn’t...he couldn’t possibly ever feel the same way.”

“Why not?” she asked as she possibly off her bowl before setting down on the coffee back and pausing the movie you’d been watching, “you and dad both like each other! You might as well tell each other and get it over with. Besides, you’re a million times better than whatever her name is that he’s on a date with.”

“How could you possibly know that?” you laughed lightly at her fervent insistence, the words that he liked you too not lost on you at all.

“Because she’s not you,” she insisted, “and dad really likes you. He’s just...too awkward sometimes. I know he just doesn’t want to mess anything up. But I’m telling you, you both need to stop being fools and tell each other you’re in love!”

“Alright, little Missy,” you groaned lightly as she smiled triumphantly - she had you hook, line, and sinker, “time for bed, it’s late anyways. Go brush your teeth and get changed. I’ll check on you in a little bit.”

“Fine,” she sighed heavily, a trait definitely inherited from Marcus, “but you know I’m right! Tell him!”

You were about to make a smart retort as you watched her giggling form disappear up the stairs but decided against. Apparently all the times you thought you were subtle about your affections towards Marcus, you were being anything but.

Shit, shit, shit. Hopefully he’d never noticed. He was a Heroic, you reminded yourself, of course he knew. But he’d never said anything, never treated you oddly...maybe he didn’t know after all. Maybe this was one of the things he was blind to. Yeah...that was surely it. Besides, why would someone like him ever like you? You were just you and he was...everything.

You’d been so lost in your conversation with Missy and now your own thoughts that you’d had heard the front door open and close. You hadn’t noticed as Marcus slowly made his way into the kitchen and overheard everything. But Missy did - she was his daughter after all, and her little scheme played out exactly out she had planned.

Sighing, you stood up and stretched, still unawares of the eyes glued to you. Marcus smiled at the little sound you made, his own heart thumping nervously as he realized what he needed to do. His date had ended early - his decision -and it hadn’t been particularly fun. His date had been nice, pretty, kind, but at the end of it all, she wasn’t you. That’s what he had wanted. Enough with the skirting around the issue - he was finally going to tell you how he felt.

Scooping the dirty bowls up, you tried to figure out just how you were going to tell Marcus about your feelings. Missy wouldn’t drop it, you knew she wouldn’t. You could just get straight out with it - direct and to the point and lay all the cards on the table.

Or was that too direct? Should you hint some more; although that hadn’t gotten you very far either....fuck. Nope you were just going to have to do it once and for all.

“Marcus - I’m in love with you,” you tested the words out to yourself to see how they would sound. Your voice was a small, soft thing, but you couldn’t deny that you liked how they sounded. Deciding that it would just take some practice to get yourself ready to say the words to him, you repeated the words, “I love you, I love you, I love you. Marcus Moreno - I am in love with you.”

As you flipped on the kitchen light, you let out a small scream and almost dropped the bowls in your hands as you finally spotted Marcus. He was quick to your side and took the bowls from you, setting them back on the counter and offering you a sheepish, but soft expression. Nothing but horror washed over you as quickly came to the conclusion that he must have heard everything single thing you’d said.

“M-Marcus,” you fumbled over your words as he watched you with a soft expression, “I-I-I didn’t hear you come in, didn’t know you were back. I was just umm...playing around. Missy, she umm, I didn’t...ughh...Oh...this is...I didn’t mean it?”

“I got back a little bit ago,” he confessed as you hid your face in his hands; yeah, he’d heard everything, “I didn’t want to interrupt.”

“Listen, Marcus, I didn’t mean it, it’s just...Missy thinks that we’re in love or something, and I was just messing around...” it might have been the weakest lie you’d ever told and the look on his face said that he didn’t believe a word of it. If you didn’t know any better, you’d almost think...he was happy, “wait - you’re back? I didn’t expect you for another hour or so.”

“Left earlier than expected,” he admitted as he tried to still the wild beating of his own heart. He took a step closer and you swallowed the lump in your throat as you tried to not completely lose the remaining grips on reality you had, “wasn’t quite feeling it.”

“Oh?” you asked softly as he shrugged lightly, “w-what happened?”

“She wasn’t you,” he echoed Missy’s words from earlier as an involuntary smile crossed your features. Holy shit - was this actually happening? No, no, no, this must be all a dream, “I should have asked you to dinner. A long time ago actually. I don’t know why I didn’t. I guess Missy’s right, I’m just an awkward uncool dad.”

“Me?” you pointed at yourself as he laughed lightly and nodded, “why on earth would you ask me?”

“Why would I...I thought it was kind of obvious by now?” he tilted his head to the side as you looked at him with wide, innocent eyes, “I mean, Missy pretty much spilled the beans...”

“Wait, wait, wait,” you looked at him nervously, still refusing to believe that this was actually happening, “you like me? Me?”

Then he whispered your name, so softly, so reverently, so gently before reaching over and putting his hand gently on your cheek, “I’m in love with you.”

“Me,” you didn’t bother to try and hide your smile as he nodded, “I....yeah. Me too. Obviously. She’d been pushing me to tell you, but I didn’t want to...”

“Mess anything up?” he finished for you as you nodded, letting out the breath you hadn’t realized you were holding in, “me neither.”

“Sooo...” you trailed off and flicked your eyes back his, admiring the way the soft brown orbs stared back into your, crinkling in the corners as his dimple was on display, “ummm...I should...I should go since you’re back.”

“Is that really what you want?” he teased as you shook your head before laughing, “do you know what I want?”

“Ummm.... no?”

“I really, kind of want to kiss you,” he admitted as your heart blossomed with joy at his gentle words, “if that’s okay.”

“Yeah,” you bit your lip lightly, “I want that too.”

And then it happened, easily, fluidly, almost like you’d both been doing it forever. His hands found your waist as you tugged you close, your arms snaking around his neck as you leaned up to meet his kiss, His lips were plush and soft, and even better than you could ever have dreamed. It wasn’t some rough and brash tangle of teeth, with either of you fighting for dominance; no, this was slow and easy, intimate to its core and filled with nothing but longing and desire.

This was exactly what you’d always envisioned.

“It’s about time,” the two of you slowly pulled apart at the sound of her voice as you tried to find Missy peeking at the two of you from the foot of the stairs, “I told you both!”

Before either of you could say anything else, she darted upstairs and back to her bedroom, slamming the two shut as he pulled you close to him, wrapping his arms tightly around you. He chased your lips with his own, giving you a few more soft pecks before you grinned at each other like fools in love which, you supposed, you were.

“She’s too smart for her own good sometimes,” he sighed lightly as you touched his cheek, “but I’ll let this one slide.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Uh huh honey,” he whispered before kissing you again - it was already something he never wanted to stop doing now that he’d had a taste, “what were you saying about having to leave?”

“I don’t remember,” you teased with a kiss to his cheek.

“Stay?” he asked softly; it was a question that held a lot more meaning than just one night, or something temporary. You both knew exactly what it meant.

“Yes,” you promised, “I’ll stay.”

»»————-　♡　————-««

Permanent Taglist: @secretsweetscollectionblog @sheridans-dynamos @queenbbarnes @persephonesnebula @ah-callie @blushingwueen @thisis-theway @rosetophighlander @rae-gar-targaryen @hiscyarika @readsalot73 @huliabitch @ollyoxenfrees @coffeeandtodd @beepbeepsephy @scarlettwitcher @nerdyknightwritersblog @choicesarcade @arrowswithwifi @everythingaboutnothingstuff @suckerfor-fanfics @bestintheparsec @winters-buck @javihoney @aeryntheofficial @hail-doodles @engineeredfiction @aeryntheofficial @asgardianvamp21 @keithseabrook27 @karmezii @dearspacepirates @thatsuitlooksgoodonyou @paintballkid711 @mrpascals @kochamcie @lv7867 @artsymaddie @gooddaykate @rosiefridayrogersunday @heyitmelexie @criminalmind1927 @justanotherblonde23 @coni-martina @thewayofthemandalorian

#marcus moreno #marcus moreno x reader #marcus moreno x you #wcbh #we can be heroes #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader

941 notes · View notes

cricketnationrise · 3 years

Text

More Cheese than a Dairy Farm

for @adambirkholtz and also how dare you :D

_X_

1. after the last practice of preseason

“Great job guys, good work today. Take tomorrow off and get ready for classes to start, and then regular practices start tomorrow night,” Dex says.

“And the first team breakfast is Wednesday after morning practice!” pipes up Chowder.

There’s a general rush to shower and leave, guys chirping each other left and right. Nursey finally feels at home. He closes his eyes while he waits for C and Dex to wrap up so they can head to Annie’s. He’s a senior. He even knows what he wants to do after college. Life is good.

“Hey. Hey Nursey.”

“What Dex.”

“Feel my shirt.”

He opens his eyes to see Dex holding out the edge of his t-shirt with a smile and doesn’t try to fight the rush of affection that comes with it. He reaches out and rubs Dex’s shirt.

“It’s nice. Soft.”

“Know what it’s made of?“ Dex asks.

“No? Cotton? Should I know?”

Dex smirks and leans closer.

“Boyfriend material.”

Nursey bursts out laughing. He can’t help it. Coming out to him and C over the summer had been a huge step for Dex. He was so much more relaxed and, though he would never say it out loud, chill now. Chill enough to use horrible pick up lines on Nursey of all people.

“Dex that’s so bad oh my god,” Nursey manages to wheeze out between laughs. He looks up to chirp him more and sees that Dex looks proud of himself despite the fire truck level blush he’s rocking.

“You guys ready?”

Dex reaches his hand out to help Nursey off the bench. “Yeah we’re good Chowder, let’s go.”

Still laughing, Nursey just says “boyfriend material” to himself, takes Dex’s hand and they leave the locker room.

_X_

2. During Spookykegster

It’s an excellent party. They won their game last night, and there’s no practice or classes in the morning to wake up for. Ideal conditions for sure. And his best friends are on NurseyPatrol, which, to be fair, hasn’t been needed since sophomore year, and has now evolved into the best excuse to hang out with Dex and C for some quality Frog Time.

“You mind if I leave to go over to Cait’s?“ Chowder asks, shouting a little to be heard over the music.

“Ooooooh we see how it is, don’t we Dexy? Not even our epic friendship can hold a candle to the lovely Farmer. What ever shall be done?” Nursey says as he sways into Dex.

“You’re good C, take off. Come help with clean up in the morning and it’s all good,” Dex says, his hands automatically coming up to catch Nursey before he overbalances and falls.

“Bye guys! Have fun the rest of the night!”

And now Nursey has a slight problem. Tiny really. It’s just that now he’s alone with Dex. Dex who is actually wearing a costume for once. He’s dressed up as Woody from Toy Story and Nursey might be having a hard time not staring at Dex’s ass in those jeans.

It’s fine.

“You want to get another drink? Or are you going to dance?“ Dex asks.

“I think drink,” he says, moving toward the kitchen, “I need another beer I think before dancing. Want one?”

“Ayuh, sure, thanks Nursey.”

He goes and comes back, handing Dex a can as he leans back against the wall next to him. He’s drinking and scoping out a potential dance partner when out of nowhere he hears,

“Are you wearing space pants?”

“What? No? I’m wearing jea-”

“Because your ass is out of this world,” Dex finishes a little too loudly, blushing furiously.

“What’s this Dexy? You flirting with little ole me?” Nursey flutters his eyelashes and delights in watching Dex’s blush deepen and spread down his neck.

“I - well - you know - I - no?”

“Chill Dex. I know you’re just practicing, en bee dee,” he says just to watch Dex’s eye twitch at the spoken letters. “Gotta go see a boy about a dance. Catch up with you later.”

Nursey laughs to cover his disappointment and goes to dance. Now that he knows Dex isn’t serious and his beer is finished, it’s time to dance.

_X_

3. At Founders a Week before Finals

Nursey is stressed okay? Just because he’s got an internship lined up for credit for next semester doesn’t mean that he doesn’t need to study. And his Harlem Renaissance paper is kicking his ass. But once he finishes this draft he can take a break. He just needs to focus. Or another coffee? Maybe he just needs -

“It’s a good thing I have my library card because I am totally checking you out,” Dex whispers, from the chair next to him.

Nursey starts to snigger, trying to keep from making too much noise in Founders.

“You been saving that one just for me Dex?”

“Just thought you needed a little break from your paper,” Dex says, trying to be nonchalant about it, but his hand comes up to rub the back of his neck, and his ears are bright red, giving him away.

And.

Nursey can’t hold it in anymore, and starts hysterically laughing.

He’s still laughing as the librarian swoops down on them and demands they leave. What a horribly cheesy pickup line. And from Dex of all people.

_X_

4. Nursey’s Birthday

All the card says is “We’re not socks but I think we’d make a great pair.”

But, he recognizes the handwriting and it was left on his pillow so he digs his phone out of his pocket, laughing.

Me: woowwww dex

Me: this one is so cheesy if i didn’t know better i’d swear you’d have a fondue machine down there

As he changes out of his jeans and gets ready for practice in an hour his phone pings. He opens Dex’s response and promptly has to sit down. William J. Poindexter has responded with a selfie. It’s a little blurry, clearly taken while he walks home from his programming class. It’s unseasonably warm for February today, so the pink across Dex’s freckles are 100% blush.

Dex: Happy Birthday, Nursey! Hope it made you laugh.

Something about the picture makes Nursey’s breath catch. He doesn’t feel like laughing all of sudden. He doesn’t want to examine the swooping sensation in his stomach too closely. That way lies madness.

_X_

5. March

It’s been a brutal practice. But no one is complaining. They’re in playoffs. Everyone wants to do well. And Dex is a great captain. He’s really come into his own this year.

But today was like Bitty was still here; Dex put them through a whole practice of the Russian calisthenics that Bitty had adapted from his figure skating coach.

Everyone was wiped.

“Dex, you’re my best friend but I hate you so much right now. If you were a punching bag all that would be left would be a pile of sand on the ground.”

“If you were words on a page, you’d be fine print.”

He couldn’t help it. He giggled.

“Oh stop making me laugh, I can’t feel my abs as it is,” Nursey says, looking over at Dex.

“S’just the truth,” Dex mumbles, flushing abruptly and turning away to dig in his bag for his shoes.

“Fine print,” he snorts and hauls himself up to go refill his water bottle.

_X_

+1 After Winning the Frozen Four

Nursey doesn’t think he’s ever been happier. They’ve won the Frozen Four for the second year in a row. Chowder had a shut out, and both he and Dex had scored. It was truly a perfect game.

He knows he still has to get through the rest of his internship and finals but right now, he’s on top of the world.

He and Dex are crammed into a too-small booth for their combined shoulders with Chowder and Farmer (who flew out to watch the game) opposite them. Nursey feels good, floaty and glowing. They won, his friends are here, and long-established convention means he gets to be pressed up next to Dex. Not an inch between them.

It wasn’t like he was unaware his crush was getting astronomical. And it didn’t help that Dex kept feeding him pick up lines all this year. Lately, they’ve been a small torture, wanting Dex to flirt with him for real.

Whatever.

He’s here. Dex’s here. Nursey’s happy.

Dex has never looked better. Confident and loose like he usually only gets at the Haus. The lights overhead highlight his freckles and Dex’s hair, a touch too long and starting to curl after not cutting it through playoffs. Nursey’s staring. He knows he is. With a herculean effort, he tears his gaze away and tries to focus on what Chowder is saying.

“-And wasn’t it s’wasome when Bully checked that guy right before he could get to Whiskey and -”

“Breathe, babe,” Farmer says fondly, “They were there too.”

Nursey leans further into the leather, relaxing when they leave. As happy as he is, he is tired, and the booth is comfortable. Especially with Dex so close.

They’re all chatting too loudly about The Martian and he’s laughing at Farmer’s Donald Glover impersonation when Dex suddenly winks at him. Nursey almost falls off his seat. Dex leans closer, and whispers in his ear.

“Hey Nursey?”

“Yeah?” Nursey can barely breathe.

“Even in zero gravity I would still fall for you.”

Nursey doesn’t blush. Which means the heat he feels in his face must be a symptom of a fever. His throat is dry enough it might be true.

“Ha ha Poindex-” he abruptly stops talking when he feels Dex’s hand cover his own on the seat in between them and his fingers curl around Nursey’s own.

“Oh holy shit,” he whispers, “Really Dex? Now? With a cheesy pick up line no less?”

“S’thematically appropriate,” Dex shrugs and then tilts his world upside down with, “I got tired of you thinking I was joking around the other times I tried flirting.”

“Wh - I - I -” Nursey has no words. For once in his life.

“Its a good thing you’re pretty,” Dex chirps before leaning in an kissing his cheek, holy shit.

“FINALLY!”

They both jump and look around at Chowder’s shout. C’s beaming at the two of them.

“Do you know how much in back fines the two of you owe?!?!”

Dex just laughs and hides his (bright red) face in Nursey’s neck and Nursey tries not to melt.

“I think we’re good for them, C. It’s chill,” Nursey says, not looking away from where his fingers are curled up with Dex’s.

The fines are worth it.

#nurseydex #pick up lines #kegsters #frozen four celebrations #senior frogs #charmer #dex is trying really hard to flirt #nursey is oblivious #and pining #until he isn't #nursey #dex #chowder #farmer #smh #samwell men's hockey #5+1 fic

159 notes · View notes

malfoys-demigod · 4 years

Text

Tutor, Tea, and Truth

draco malfoy x reader

summary: Reader spends her Saturday mornings tutoring lower classmen by the library. Draco was intrigued with your enthusiasm and love for tutoring that he began watching you. When you finally noticed, he tried lying, saying that he never had the guts to ask you for help in the subjects he was having trouble with. Knowing that he was the second smartest wizard of your year, you didn’t buy his lie, catching him off guard. Being defeated, Draco begins a conversation with you and eventually asks you on a date.

a/n: i was really planning to continue this, and finally i have!

word count: 6.1k

tag list: @the--queen-of-hell @bbeauttyybbx

If there was one thing you could do effortlessly, it was giving a hand to help others. It could be through any way and it would still be considered helping someone out.

Whether it be the simple things such as lending an extra quill, picking up the things that a person has dropped in the corridor, to much more complex things that required more will power such as being a third-wheeler at a date at Hogsmeade, walking someone back to the common room at night, and your favorite favorite thing which was tutoring.

The act of tutoring either your batchmates or lowerclassmen was the most favorite thing of all the things you could do as help. There were so many advantages of being a tutor to students. It could help gain you more friendships with people around year-levels and houses, train your brain to remember new and old information, and strengthen your reputation as a helpful person.

With these many advantages, your favorite reason was the idea of being able to see the smiles of people at the end of the session or seeing them come back to you, thanking you that they raised their scores, giving you all the credit when you tell them that it was them, that did it all.

Helping other people made you the happiest person in Hogwarts. You were a smart wizard of your year, certainly not levelling Hermione Granger, but enough to help other people out. It didn’t bother you that there was the possibility of getting drowned with your own work because you could use this advantage and call on other students from your year to form a study group with you, doing the work together and helping each other.

If they declined the offer due to many reasonable excuses, you still used this advantage to finish the work as quick as possible, with quality of course, so that when your classmates finally have the time to do their work, they can come to you and you could teach them what you learned, helping your brain remember more of what you had recently taught yourself.

It was a way of boosting your knowledge and grades, making you one successful student.

Tutoring was something you had gotten from former upperclassmen when you were still in your first year. As a newcomer to Hogwarts, you were very much nervous of failing classes at such a prestigious school.

So one day at the end of your first week of classes as a first year, you decided to head to the library, hoping to seek a quiet time to celebrate that classes of your first week had ended. But what you arrived at was a study group led by seventh years.

Not being intimidated by large and older students, you walked towards them, asking them if they could help you with school work. They surprisingly agreed to help you, also giving you the idea of becoming a tutor just like them. They showed you the ropes and shaped you into the person you were today. You were very thankful for them.

Years later, you became a respectful tutor, just like the seventh years in your first year.

From starting a group only for students in your year, you built your reputation over the years as word passed by, telling other students of lower years that you were a tutor that could be of service for all lowerclassmen.

Having word passed by from some students of their year, lowerclassmen were more encouraged to find the famous you, and grab seats in the library to circle around you. With more students now coming to see you on a daily basis, you started to treat them like friends rather than pretend clients who you were offering your services to.

Today was the first week back from the winter holidays.

Everyone was still acting as if they'd forgotten to switch off their mindsets from “Vacation Mode”, as all they could think and talk about was the holidays. This year’s holidays were somehow excellent for almost everyone where they were spending it in Hogwarts or outside of the castle. Wherever you went, people were smiling, daydreaming about possibly what gifts they received, which meals they enjoyed, and everything you could name.

The fact that people were still thinking of the holidays meant that it was hard to return focusing on academics. People were so used to waking up late and doing anything they pleased during the holidays that it was quite difficult for them to continue keeping up their grades in school. Worse, if they were taught by the teachers who planned on giving them tests and quizzes a week or two after their first week back, to jog up their memories on the things they have learned from the month before the break.

You yourself may have had a slight relatable feeling with most of the students at Hogwarts, but you were more lucky than them as you still managed to read a book or two about lessons you were had recently learned and lessons you will be learning when the holiday ended. This action wasn’t done frequently during the break but it was enough to feel more confident when it came to returning to school after the holidays ended. Your little tutoring business would also be booming as others would beg for your time, asking if you could help teach them the things they’ve forgotten and need to remember.

Usually, people spent their Friday’s after classes anywhere but the library. It was their way of removing their mindset of school and into their weekend freedom. For you on the other hand, your next place right after your last class was the library, the place you happily held your tutoring sessions. You didn’t need to be asked if you could spare time for people as they assumed that you would already be there in the library, waiting for people to come and be helped.

Their assumptions today were right. You had finished setting up your things by one of the long tables at the library, opening your notebook and bringing out your quill when all of a sudden, a massive group of second years were quietly rushing around your table, huffing and puffing tiredness.

“Hello, Y/N!”

“Good afternoon, Y/N!”

“Good to see you, Y/N!”

Were some of the small greetings that your second year students greeted you as they were relieved to see you. You waved at them, giving them a warm smile as you greeted them back. You fixed your posture, straightening your back as you made yourself ready to teach them.

“Now, my dear little friends,” you spoke, “What are we learning today?”

“History of Magic,” they all groaned, looking so distressed.

You giggled, trying to show a sympathetic pout at them, “Ah, yes, let me guess,” you placed a finger on your chin, “Binns expected you to study over the break, which you all didn’t, and announced a test next week?”

“Exactly!” One complained, “The mad ghost is holding it on Monday, Monday! Can you believe him?”

You nodded, smiling at the memories when you were required to take History of Magic, “I do, that’s how Binns handles his classes,” you sighed, “But not to worry, when you’re older, his class wouldn’t be required any longer, you could choose something else if you’d like.”

“What did you choose, Y/N?” They all asked, giving curious eyes.

“I chose to have a free period,” you admitted, watching them gasp with big eyes, “I know, a ‘smart’ cookie like me should be taking up the extra classes for the sake of landing that dream job or simply showing that you're an excellent student, right? But the classes I’m taking already have me set with the many choices I have with whatever dream jobs I have in mind to be honest. Besides, there are many things I could do during my free time, such as studying and doing my schoolwork so I could use this time to help you desperate kids in need. Now come on, let’s head onto the most vile lessons in your class,” you said, encouraging them to open their books.

—

“The last breach you should remember was in 1790 when an American witch named Dorcus Twelvetrees made a serious breach when she confided secret information to a muggle, or what Americans call it, a ‘No-Maj’ named Bartholomew Barebone. She told him not only about the existence of MACUSA and the International Confederation of Wizards, but also the location of their wizarding school named Ilvermorny School. Barebone stole her wand and showed it off to the press and called for No-Maj persecution of magical folks like us. Due to this, President Emily Rappaport of MACUSA instated “Rappaport's Law” which completely segregated witches and wizards from the No-Majs, and remained the law of the land until repealed in 1965.”

All your second year students were slightly dazed, looking as if their brains had stopped processing the information you had been teaching them. Understanding what they’re going through, you closed their books with the use of your wand, closing yours and using the magic to pack up. “Alright, you kiddos,” you said, “It’s time for you to rethink about the things I’ve taught you today, I wish you luck in your test next week, and advise you to possibly not pick this subject as an elective when you’re older,” you joked.

“She’s right,” said a new voice, “I completely welcome you to pick Astronomy or Potions. As a successful student from those classes, think of it as a recommendation from another top student like me.”

You looked to your left, seeing that Draco Malfoy was nonchalantly leaning by the bookshelves, crossing his arms with a smirk on his face.

“Was it just a coincidence that you overheard the conversation and used the opportunity to lure my second years into your favorite subjects? Or were you here the whole time I tutored them and waited for the right timing to give us a grand entrance, because you look like you’ve been here for quite some time,” you asked, imitating your batchmate by crossing your arms out of curiosity.

Catching Draco off guard, he tried recovering by placing a hand on his chest, appearing so offended by your words, “Heavens, Y/L/N, big with questions aren’t you?” he slightly chuckled, walking towards your table, “On you go kiddos, time to relax from all this young lady has been bombarding you with!” he joked, earning a laugh from the second years who were not aware of you, rolling your eyes at Draco.

Draco shrugged, playing innocent as he dropped his sling bag as he pulled a seat, sitting down casually. He interlocked both his hands, placing them on the table as he gave you a small wink, “Y/L/N,” he formally greeted, nodding at you, “You come here often?”

“Of course I do, Malfoy, everyone should know by now that I tutor people here,” you said, standing up from your table, “Shouldn’t you be elsewhere spending your Friday afternoon?”

Draco may or may have not been lurking around the library, waiting for you to end your tutoring session for the day. He had been waiting ever since classes ended for him and had been wandering around the library in order to be caught stalking you endlessly for the entire hour as you taught your second years.

During the last twenty minutes of your session, he positioned himself by the nearest bookshelf on the other side in order not to be seen, as he was pulling out some books, peeping and watching you happily teach second years.

When people passed by, Draco pretended to open the book he pulled, seeming ‘curious’ with the contents he was reading and if some gave him suspicious looks, he would quietly snap the book in front of them, eyeing them coldly and twitching his nose in a scary manner, causing them to walk away, looking anywhere but at Draco.

“Is there something wrong with me being here, Y/N?” Draco asked, sounding so innocent, “It’s not like you own the place, dear.” he taunted, tilting his head for approval.

“You’re right, I don’t but it’s just highly unlikely for me to see you here, that’s all.”

“Would it be highly unlikely of me to ask if you could perhaps tutor me?”

You shook your head slightly in amusement, looking at Draco who seemed so casual with the question he had just asked you. “You?” you pointed at him, “You need a tutor?”

“Is there something wrong with that?” he wondered.

“Well, yes,” you replied, “You’re a top student of our year, for Merlin’s sake, I doubt I’m even smarter than you!” you exclaimed, raising your hands in amusement. “You really have to be kidding me if you wanted a tutor.”

“What if I’m not kidding?”

“Okay, then, what do you need help with, Malfoy?”

Draco paused for a slight second, surprised he got far with this, a lightbulb went up quickly, so did his eyes when he looked at you and quickly said, “History of Magic!”

“Uh-huh, just like my second years?”, you asked, as he nodded in response.

“I don’t remember you taking Binn’s class this year?”

Draco clenched his hands as his heart started beating quickly, “And who are you to say that? I don’t suppose you’re in his class as well? Correct me if I’m wrong but I remember hearing you advise your second years not to take his class.”

“Right,” you said, with a raised eyebrow. He was correct, and you couldn’t say he wasn’t in Binn’s class, you wouldn’t know since you weren’t in his class. So you sat back down, placing your bag on the table as you removed your old History of Magic book and opened it. “So, what do you need help with?”

“Erm, Giant wars?” he asked, hoping to himself that was something people were learning this year.

“Oh, okay, well you’re in luck because I happened to be reading that out of curiosity during the break. And well, my friends who were doing advance reading for his class were telling me all about it this week.” you said, looking for the page that had giant wars.

When you found the page, you pointed at the chapter, “Ah, there we are, let’s start, shall we?”

“We shall,” he replied.

“And remember, the conflicts between the giants and the wizards that had historical significance took place around the nineteenth century, alright?”

Draco calmly nodded, using his quill to write down the last thing he needed to remember for his class. Finished, he placed his parchment back in his bag and extended his hand, “Lovely,” he said, as you extended your hand, shaking his, “You truly are the best and by the way-

“Y/N!” said a new voice.

Both you and Draco turned to the side of the open hall of the library to see Neville and Luna waving at you with beaming smiles. As Draco groaned to himself, Neville and Luna walked towards you, seeing that Draco was there as well.

“Tutoring him?” Neville asked, looking at Draco who wanted to be elsewhere.

“Surprisingly, yes,” you nodded, “Apparently he needs help with History of Magic and that’s understandable. It would have been more beneficial if you two were here with me, you could have taught him too considering that you three are in the same class.”

Neville looked at Luna with a puzzled look, then to Draco with a highly raised eyebrow. “That would have been beneficial indeed,” Neville said, as Draco gulped with a hint of fear, “If he actually took the class.”

“W-what do you mean?” you confusingly chuckled, looking now at Draco for reassurance, “Are you not taking History of Magic, Malfoy?”

“Nonsense,” he quickly replied, tightening his tie, “You’re confused, I’m probably in another period of Binn’s class, Longbottom.”

“There is no other class,” Luna innocently added, “Since there were only a few left interested in his class, we could only manage to create one class.”

You crossed your arms, giving Draco an open mouth, “Right,” you said, “Excuse us Neville and Luna, I think I can handle the interrogation from here.”

“Alright, see ya Y/N!” Neville said as Luna warmly waved goodbye, walking away from the scene to leave you, looking at Draco who was nervously chuckling to himself as he started packing up his things.

Before he could stand up, you stopped him with a raise of your hand, commanding him to sit, “Don’t think you can just leave so quickly, Malfoy.”

He turned back to you, giving a small quick smile, “Right, I suppose you’re expecting a couple of galleons for your service.” He began getting coins from his bag, only for you to zip it shut with the wave of your wand.

“Was there a reason for you to lie and waste, let’s see,” you looked at your pocket watch, “Hm, an hour of my time?”

He shrugged, smiling guiltily, “I don’t suppose it’s a waste of time, especially when you’re with me,” he said, trying to display a smirk in his mouth, which ended up looking as if he was giving his all for it.

“Nice try, Malfoy, but really, why would you go all out and pretend you took Binn’s class?”

Draco exhaled, giving up the act of lying as he let out a small laugh, feeling ever so humiliated with himself as he looked at you and said, “Maybe I had something planned and things went too far that I wasn’t able to go back to the right track.” he shrugged, waiting for your response.

Clueless yet interested, you leaned forward and asked, “Care to explain what your plans were?”

Malfoy smiled at himself, nervous yet ready to tell you the truth.

“My initial plan was to wait till you were finished tutoring those little gits and ask you on a date, after all, I have been wanting to for awhile, figured it was time to make a move. I might have gone off script and used the opportunity of your tutoring sessions to… spend time with me.”

You were vastly staggered as it was news to hear that Draco Lucius Malfoy was first, waiting for you in the library for Merlin knows how long, second, planning to ask you on a date, and third, has been wanting to ask you on a date! It wasn’t like you were head over heels for with such passion, but it filled your heart, discovering that one of the most outstanding students of your year was highly interested in you. Why you of all people?

Still staring into the unknown, Draco’s spirits slightly started falling down as he had not received an answer yet from you. He wanted to make sure you had an answer, but at the same time, he didn’t want to make himself feel bad if he pressured you with time into giving him one.

“You’re going to have to answer me verbally dear, contrary to popular belief, I can’t read minds.” he joked.

You snapped back from all your lingering thoughts, chuckling to yourself out of embarrassment, as you saw that Draco gave you a faint smile. “Right,” you spoke, “I’m sorry, I was just thinking.”

“Thinking?” he said, probing.

“Yes, uhm, first of all, my second years are not gits,” you said, pointing at him, then you looked back down, placing a hand on your chest, “Second, I’m flattered, and third-”

“You’re going to reject me?” he suggested, feeling defeat in his voice.

You shot him a worried look, shaking your head, “Goodness no,” you opposed as you waved your hands in front of him, “I’m extremely flattered because I never thought you’d be interested in me, actually.”

“What do you mean?” Draco asked, walking around the table to come closer to you.

“I always thought you were too good for me.” you laughed at yourself, looking down at the ground.

Draco placed his hands on your shoulders, rubbing you sympathetically as he gave a small, exalted smile, “You have no right to say that, Y/L/N for I should be the one saying that.” he removed his hands from you, straightening his robe and announced, “This time, I offer you my time as I’d like you to spend tomorrow with me at Hogsmeade. We will have the most excellent first date, should you choose to accept.” he confidently said.

You slung your back onto your shoulder, smiling at the invitation you were given. “Alright, Malfoy, you got yourself a date tomorrow. Should I feel free to dress to impress?”

He shrugged, appearing as if it didn’t matter, “To me, you’d look ravishing with or without the need to do that. But if you wish,” he said, smirking.

You rolled your eyes, “See you, Malfoy,” waving him goodbye as you left the scene.

You were waiting outside by the gates of the castle, sitting down on the stairs, patiently and calmly waiting for Draco, who happened to be your surprising date as you were still processing the fact you were about to go on a date with him.

You hadn’t really thought about the possibility of dating Draco. You were just a simple girl in Hogwarts, being always on the sidelines of everyone’s story. To you, you were always someone not worthy of a demanding person such as Draco.

Why would someone important like him want to go out with you? That was something you would have to find out sooner or later in your life, and maybe this date would be the perfect opportunity to ask Draco about this, hopefully he would answer truthfully.

All of a sudden, the doors behind you opened slowly, causing you to turn around and stand up as you saw your date, eyeing you with a smile. “Y/N, for a minute there, I thought you were going to bail. Looks like I was wrong,” he said, still smiling.

You let out a small laugh, “Now why would I do that?”

“I was waiting for you by your dorm room, like the gentleman I am, until when the doors opened, I was greeted by your roommate, who seemed very flustered by my gesture.”

“What gesture?”

Draco confidently pulled up a bouquet of flowers from his back, presenting it to you with such pride in his face, “Then I asked where you were, and she said you weren’t there, leaving me to think, ‘Did she either bail, or was she already outside?’ so here I am.”

Still presenting the bouquet, you received it, smelling the freshness of the flowers with a smile on your face, “Gosh, you’re one kind of gentleman. Thank you for the flowers.”

“A pretty girl should always have a pretty bouquet.”

You grinned, hoping your blush wasn’t evident. Draco placed his arm up, “Now, shall we?”

“We shall,” you agreed, taking his arm as you started walking away from Hogwarts.

To your surprise, Draco brought you to Madam Pudifoot’s Tea Shop. It was the place people brought their dates to, for a more intimate time with them. This was your first time inside the place, and you now understood why it was a place for intimate dates.

The teashop was a very quiet and tranquil place that had walls and floors of pink shades, screaming ‘Love,’ in the air as the different scents of teas gave a relaxing aura around the shop. Aside from a serene and silent touch to the shop, there were barely people inside, making things more private and affectionate for dates.

Draco again to your surprise, held your hand as he made his way to an exact table, which Madam Pudifoot reserved for the two of you. It seemed as if Draco already made reservations beforehand, and it was weird because you haven’t really recalled establishments in Hogsmeade accepting reservations.

When the two of you sat down, Draco surprisingly gave a warm smile to Madam Pudifoot, who handed the two of you her menus. “Take all the time you need, lovebirds.” she chuckled, then turned around, leaving Draco with a flustered you.

“Um, Draco?” you brought down your menu to give your attention to Draco, who had his menu up, as he was still scanning for the right tea.

“Ready to order already, Y/N?” he asked in a nervous yet playful tone which made him chuckle after, “I thought this was your first time here!”

“No, actually I haven’t even looked at the menu,” you admitted embarrassingly, “I was just curious.”

“About?” His face was still covered by the menu, but fortunately, he seemed interested in what you had to bring up.

“Why do I have the feeling that you secretly went all out with this date and got the chance to persuade Madam Pudifoot a table for us?” you blurted everything out awkwardly, which made you feel like jumping off a cliff.

Draco pulled the menu down from his face, flashing a smirk, chuckling, “Because it’s true?”

You laughed in relief for not feeling like the craziest person in the entire town of Hogsmeade, “Oh, brilliant,” you replied. Then you shook your head, but still smiling cheekily, “But why?”

Draco tilted his head with a raised eyebrow, “Why what?”

“Why would you go all out for me?”

Draco narrowed his eyes and mouth, trying to contain his laughter, “Darling, have you not heard of Draco Lucius Malfoy? I’d go all out for you.”

You scoffed, playing with the fabric of the table’s smooth cloth. “I think we barely know each other though. This is clearly our first time actually interacting with each other properly.”

After clasping his hands, he pulled his hands away, tilting his palms to face each other, “Alright, why don’t we get to know each other then?” he suggested. You nodded, which made him speak again, “Okay, let me start.”

“What do you want to know, Draco?”

“What do you want to do after Hogwarts?” he prompted.

Your eyes drifted away from the boy in front of you as you pondered on the many occupational choices when Hogwarts ended.

“Either a Hit-Witch or an Auror,” you shrugged, “I haven’t given much thought about it but the last time I did, I was looking into those two.”

“Intriguing,” he acknowledged, sounding highly surprised and in awe, “I never imagined you as either of those, but I know you’d be one of the best that I can feel safe at night.”

“Oh, please,” you waved off the flattery in embarrassment, “Neither did I see myself as one of those jobs. But, their job descriptions really do call me. What about you, Draco?”

Draco shrugged as well, “Possibly an Auror as well. Father thinks I can make my way to the top easily and become the Minister of Magic later on.”

“Right, and then I can TOTALLY feel safe at night with you as Minister.” you teased, earning a grin from his face.

“Oh, shut it, Y/N, you better take that back or else when I become Minister, I’d gladly remove you from your job.”

“Has your mother ever taught you how to threaten a lady?”

“Now, now, Y/N, we mustn’t go there,” he playfully warned you.

“You’re right, we actually should order something before Madam Pudifoot thinks we’re using her place just to have a thrilling conversation.”

Draco scoffed, smiling cheekily at himself as he enjoyed being with you. After taking a quick look from the menu, he raised his hand, signaling Madam Pudifoot to come by your table. Once she saw Draco’s hand, she quickly hurried by.

“I was suspecting to think you two lovelies were having a good time and forgot about the tea,” she teased the two of you.

Draco smirked, looking at her confidently, “What can I say?” he shrugged, “Once you enjoy the company of someone as enthralling as her, you just forget that time passes by. I could spend the whole day talking to her, and I wouldn’t take notice of time going by. What do you think, Y/N?” he now looked at you, grinning.

Madam Pudifoot, interested by the action going on between you two, looked rapidly to you now, wanting to know what you’d say.

“I think we should order,” you pointed out the obvious sarcastically, to hold yourself from melting over Draco’s words.

“Hiding how you feel now, are we?” he checked on you, still grinning with pleasure.

You playfully rolled your eyes, finally in defeat, “Okay, so I agree with what you say,” you replied and shrugged, “And I possibly have a mindfulness of you as a wholebeing. Now, can we order?”

Draco opened his mouth in agreement, his mouth was open, but it was with a big smile, “Ah,” he said, pointing at you, “Careful darling, you’re starting to sound as if you care. It would be... unwise, of you to lead on, something such as I.”

“Alright,” you sarcastically shrugged. You now looked up to Madam Pudifoot, who seemed to be gushing over what she was witnessing. You ended her gushing by deciding to order, “Okay, Madam, I’ll have a warm chamomile tea. And you, Draco?” you asked, now looking back at Draco.

“I think I’ll have the same,” he nodded at her.

“Excellent!” Madam Pudifoot said, closing her notepad, which had her magical quill inside it, “Right away, you two!” then she turned around, briskly walking away.

This left you and Draco once again, together alone. He leaned onto the table, placing his folded hands on the edge of the table as he let his body lean over to you slightly. “So,” he whispered, “So you do like me?”

“I think I said I possibly have a mindfulness of you.” you smirked.

“It’s another way of saying that you care for me, and thus, that leads to liking me.” he reasoned out.

“Pansy and Daphne care for you, but do they like you?” you pointed that fact out. He shook his head, rolling his eyes, “That’s different. They’re not here with me on a date, are they?”

“True,” you said, eyeing and receiving the tea that Madam Pudifoot had given the two of you just now. “I guess I’m the lucky girl who's about to take sudden interest in me,” you half-jokingly said.

Draco beamed, silently sipping from his warm cup of tea. After a good sip, he shook his head, patting a cloth of napkin on his lips softly, as his eyes were back onto you. “I’m afraid you’re far too late my dear, you already have me thoroughly captivated.”

Your eyes smiled affectedly, highlighting the sudden blush you had on your face. It felt as if you skipped a heartbeat, surprised with his words as you gulped the sip you were about to swallow. After swallowing carefully, you slowly placed the cup back on the table, leaving the warmth from your fingers.

Chuckling lightly at yourself, you said, “That fast?”

“Don’t think you had me captivated just today, dear Y/N,” he pointed out, “I may or may not have had eyes for you for quite some time.”

“You couldn’t have possibly, Draco,” you narrowed your eyebrows, light-heartedly denying his statement.

“Oh, but I have!” he admitted confidently. He fixed his sitting position, causing him to enthusiastically lean towards you, “You my darling, are one unique girl.”

“Is that so?”

“I’ve never met another girl who could be so patient and loving to tutor anyone. I would be vastly impatient and non-committal to such things. I couldn’t possibly handle dealing with those… children. And of course the low-brains of our year.”

You were extremely flattered by what Draco had said, causing you to simply flash a warm smile at him, bringing back the tea in your hands as you started sipping your chamomile tea once again.

The date you had at Madam Puddifoot had unfortunately come to an end. Once the teacups were empty and your stomachs were full, Draco had paid for the expenses of the teas like the gentleman he was and pulled you up from your seat, waving goodbye to a happy Madam Pudifoot.

Now, you and Draco were walking together around Hogsmeade. While you were looking around the shops passing by you, Draco’s eyes were taking a few glances at his hand and yours, wishing he had the courage to hold your hand.

Somewhere under his nervous thoughts, his confident aura had started picking up again, reminding him of the smooth person he had in himself. There was a small smirk in his face as he perfectly knew what to do.

“Y/N?” he asked, sounding curious.

“Yes, Draco?” you asked, looking at him now.

“It came to my attention that it seems your hand looks heavy.”

“Heavy?”

“Yes, in fact, would you like me to hold it for you?” he nonchalantly asked, giving himself an innocent tone to such a smooth question. This leads you to widen your eyes with such flattery in your face. Aside from blushing madly, you chuckled in embarrassment, feeling so unprepared with words to reply to him.

“Oh,” was all you could say at first, “I’d love that, they do awfully look heavy don’t they?”

“Indeed, I’m surprised myself. Lucky for you I’m here to address the issue.”

“What if you weren’t, though?”

“From now on, expect me to always be around. I doubt there would be another soul at school who could point out that issue. They’re too blind to see the little things such as that.”

You smiled at yourself, taking in the compliment that Draco had bestowed upon you, waving your hand with his, back and forth merrily.

“Draco?”

“Yes, Y/N?” he asked, imitating your voice from earlier, causing you to roll your eyes playfully.

“Did you really mean it back at the tea shop?”

“Mean what?” He asked, stopping you and him from walking any further.

“How you were captivated by me? Have you really been fancying me for some time?”

“I know it sounds bizarre, you know, for me to come out suddenly to tell you how I feel but I do, I do have fancied you for some time. I-I like you.”

“That’s good then,” you truthfully told him, “Because I like you too.” you courageously admitted to him.

Draco flashed the biggest smile he had ever shown in his facial expression. This smile may have had a smirk in his mouth, but it was also filled with genuine happiness, something he rarely felt and gave out.

Without hesitating, he grabbed you by the face, cupping your soft, smooth face with his hands as he shot a kiss on your lips. It was a short but whole-hearted kiss, which he had been dreaming about ever since he took interest in you. You were a little surprised that it was a short one, this was because he felt that he might have been overstepping his ‘first date boundaries’, so he was making his way on ending the kiss by slowly pulling himself from you.

It was like you instantly read his mind, knowing that he was scared of overstepping his boundaries, but you answered his issue by pulling him back in, finishing the kiss with a much longer time given. Once you were done, the two of you synchronously pulled away from each other, looking at each other with such care in your eyes.

Your eyes widened with realization, “Merlin’s beard!” you exclaimed, causing Draco to feel terror in his body.

“W-what? Is everything okay? Did I do something wrong?”

“No! I did!”

Draco frowned, assuming you felt the kiss was a mistake. “Oh, I see,” he said, only for you to wave your hands in front of him.

“Heavens no! I mean, I should have kissed you first!”

Draco raised an eyebrow, deeply confused, “You? Why? That’s not the right way to go, it should be the gentleman first.”

“Well, that doesn’t matter if I could have got you back with a pick up line!”

Draco laughed, exhaling a wave of relief to hear your explanation, “Bloody hell, Y/N, all for a pick up line?”

“Yes! I thought of a good one which came well with the situation right now!”

“Alright,” Draco chuckled, “Let’s have a go with it, then.”

You composed yourself, breathing in to say, “Draco, do these smiles come with kisses?”

Draco nodding in agreement that your pick up line was a good one said, “Of course they do. Would you like them now?”

“Without a doubt,” you replied, knowing that Draco was about to lean in and kiss you.

#Draco Malfoy #Draco Malfoy x Reader #Draco Malfoy Imagines #Harry Potter #Harry Potter x Reader #Harry Potter Imagines #Tom Felton x Reader #george weasley x reader #fred weasley x reader #sirius black x reader #remus lupin x reader #ron weasley x reader #cedric diggory x reader

257 notes · View notes

notthatiwilleverwriteit · 3 years

Note

Hi! Love your takes on 19 days especially tianshan!! They are very insightful and a fun read! Idk if you already wrote about this, but I was wondering what your take would be if he tian came to save Mo instead of She li. I wonder how their dynamic would be in the present. Would they be more like zhanyi?

Hello, dear anon!

Waah, thank you for such praises! I’m glad you have enjoyed reading my mullings!

As a heads-up, this turned much longer than I anticipated, so better find a comfortable seat.

“what your take would be if he tian came to save Mo instead of She li”

I haven’t actually thought about this before, so thank you for this interesting avenue that had never even crossed my mind. The more I thought about this, the more question popped up. I feel like this would be a pretty significant change, especially for MGS’s character. To try and keep this scenario somewhat in control, I scrolled through the comic with your question in mind and let my nose sniff out where the “new” story would take me. So, this might not be exactly a “realistic” take on it but more like where the story and characters would go in my head if things had been different.

The question of timeline

First, I feel like we need to figure out the correct timeline for all this, so it’s easier to gauge HT and MGS’s characters more accurately. According to my calculations, SL saved MGS sometime during their first year of middle school (ch. 282, 319):

In the current canon storyline, they are in their last year (3rd year) of middle school, so two years off that would put the piercing incident somewhere on their first year. (Look at my mad math skills.) I’m assuming the first school year had already begun since SL had transferred and already gained some reputation at school. Other than rumors, he hadn't crossed MGS’s path.

So, let’s figure out 1st year MGS and HT. With MGS, we have seen glimpses of what kind of character he was (ch. 319, 283):

He had many of the characteristics that are familiar to us in the current timeline, too. He was caring and compassionate. His first instinct was to help, and he dint want to see people hurt. I believe he still has those qualities these days, but he’s learned to hide and suppress those instincts the hard way. I feel like compared to the current MGS, the 1st-year MGS was more pure, innocent, and trusting in many ways. He seemed to believe in a world where doing good to others surely was the way to go.

1st-year HT, on the other hand, is pretty much a mystery to us. Apart from some flashbacks from his childhood prior to middle school, we haven't seen more of his past. Even his first introduction in the comic was a bit awkward the way he just suddenly popped up and it wasn’t really clear what his relationship with JY and ZZX was exactly.

What was the mindset of 1st-year HT? Had he already made up his mind that he wouldn't become like his brother and father? Was he already living alone or still with his family? Was Mr. He already abroad or still in China?

I think HT’s living situation is probably what would give us the most hints about whatever mindset he might have. But the only thing we really have to go on is when MGS came to visit him for the first time (ch. 144):

Again, this doesn't give us much. It’s impossible to say for sure if HT was already living by himself as a 1st-year student, but somehow I doubt that. Despite everything, 12-13 is still mighty young to be living by himself. And I have a feeling based on the way HC and Mr. He seem to put importance on family sticking together, they probably didn't let HT go live alone without a long fight and debate. So, I think it’s very likely HT was still living at home as a 1st-year. Most probably at his brother’s place that seems like their primary home before Mr. He went abroad?

Based on that, I think HT might have not made up his mind on becoming a savior/hero of sorts yet. At least not in so many words. Home was probably an unpleasant and stressful place for him, and he would rather spend time elsewhere. When at home, he probably spent a lot of time in his room or roaming the nature surrounding them. Home was somewhere where he had to keep his guard up and be constantly prepared for whatever. He was exposed to and (in)directly involved in things that he disapproved of and most probably scared him. At school, he excelled in all the subjects. In some ways, studying was an out for him even though getting good grades was also expected of him. He was always surrounded by a lot of people at school and was very popular, but no one really knew him outside of school. He didn’t open up about himself.

So, that’s how I see the characters set up for the new scenario.

Mo Guan Shan in distress

Now, finally to the beginning of it all. To help us all get in the right mood, I hope you will excuse my very serious 3AM edits (ch. 319):

A crazy homeless man was attacking an innocent, pure MGS. His young life was flashing before his eyes. The man on top of him is too heavy. The grip around his throat too strong. It’s getting harder and harder to breathe, and black spots are dancing at the edge of his vision.

Just as MGS is about to pass out, something flashes at the corner of his eyes but it’s hard to tell in the dimness of the alleyway. There is a loud, heavy thud, and the grip around MGS’s throat slacks. The man is being flung off him and slumps on the wet pavement. MGS scrambles to his knees, coughing and gasping for breath. The cool rainy air tastes sweet rushing down his burning throat.

A bit out of it, he glances up and sees a dark-haired boy - about his age - who’s holding a heavy liquor bottle. The sharp edges of the bottle’s bottom are smeared with crimson. The sight of blood dripping to the ground makes MGS’s stomach turn a little. He makes the mistake of looking at the limp homeless man lying in a puddle and almost throws up at the spreading blotch of dark red on the back of the man’s head. He starts to tremble when he realizes how close to being killed he had just come.

I would picture that HT is shaken by what he had done, too. Picking up the bottle had been like an instinct to him. He had swung it as hard as he could, not really thinking the consequences. Now, though, a small panic monster in his head whispers that he had probably killed someone.

But the panic monster doesn't get very far in its fear-mongering until HT’s training kicks in. Still squeezing the neck of the heavy bottle, he creeps to the crazy man, ready to bounce if he decides to go for a second round. Even in the heavy rain, he can smell the thick odor of homelessness and alcoholism. He doesn't really want to touch the man but reaches to check for a pulse. It’s there, but otherwise the man is out cold.

Only then he really pays attention to the scrawny red-haired boy still on his knees. He looks at HT wide-eyed, shaking, and obviously in shock. There are red prints already forming around his throat where the man had strangled him.

“Is - ,” the redhead says shakily, his voice a bit hoarse, “is he de - did he - “

“He’s still breathing.”

“Am-ambulance,” the boy says, now more anxiously and looking around, “we need an ambulance. Police! Someone!”

HT doesn't reply but flips out his phone. The boy keeps glancing at him as he gets a hold of HC on the other end and explains the situation. He frowns when it doesn't sound like a 911 call to him.

“Who was that?”

“My brother. He knows what to do.”

Well, HT knew what to do, too, but he wasn’t in the position to make those things happen. Not yet, at least. But he knew.

HT asks where MGS lives and offers to walk him the rest of the way. MGS seems confused about should they just leave the man and not wait for his brother. HT assures him that his brother will come any minute now. It’s all under control. The words kind of come out of his mouth without him even realizing what he’s saying. He would like to think it’s the shock but knows it’s his training. It’s the protocol. When you follow certain steps, there is no need to panic.

And yet his hands are trembling when he finally puts the bottle down. Oh, well. He would fake till he made it.

On their way to MGS’s home, MGS is quiet and just clutches his backpack against his front. HT tilts the umbrella to cover MGS more, seeing how he is shaking from cold and shock.

HT tries to make idle conversation. He asks MGS’s name, where he goes to school, what was he doing out in the rain, is there anyone at home, and maybe mentions that he’s seen MGS around the school. Little by little the atmosphere starts to loosen and the tightness in MGS’s voice eases up. Talking also relaxes HT.

At MGS’s house, MGS looks at HT and asks if he wants to come inside to dry up. He’s frowning a little and seems worried. HT looks at him a bit dumbfounded and then bursts out a laugh.

“You really are quite something,” he says at MGS’s confused face. “You just survived all that and you’re already inviting a stranger to your home. Are you an idiot?”

MGS’s face darkens, and he says that if HT would rather walk back in soaked clothes, then it’s his business. He looks hurt and embarrassed. The attitude makes HT smile a little, though, and he tousles the wet red hair.

“I’ll see you around,” he says and leaves with a little wave over his shoulder.

He makes a mental note to keep an eye out for a certain red hair at school from now on.

Having a friend in each other

They start running into each other at school more. (Well, HT started rotating towards MGS.) Turns out MGS has seen him around school, too. He says that HT seems popular and the girls often talk about him in class. He seems a bit confused as to why HT is seeking out his company when he has so many other friends.

MGS is a bit awkward around him, but HT finds it endearing. He’s quick to rise to teasing baits and shows his emotions quite a lot if you knew where to look. To HT, he seemed like a pure-hearted kid. Probably too pure-hearted for his own good. He was a bit stiff at first, but with some coaxing, you could get him to talk. HT liked listening to him talk the most.

The more they got to know each other, the more HT found himself hanging onto MGS’s company. When school days ended, he lingered at the crossroads where their paths parted. He made up excuses to walk MGS home or to his part-time jobs. (He thought MGS was amazing for working already, but MGS just shrugged.) Finally, walking MGS home continued to get himself invited inside for homework, snacks, some games, dinner, staying the night on Fridays.

HT soaked in all the sense of home he could get at MGS’s place. The messy pile of shoes in the entryway. The scribbled notes on the fridge door. The home-cooking. The older models of video games MGS had. The smell of cheap detergent on the sheets when he was sleeping on the floor of MGS’s small room.

Mrs. Mo was a bit surprised by his son’s unexpected friend at first but quickly adopted HT as a natural part of the household. She was more at peace knowing that MGS had some company after school when she had to work late. Sometimes she listened to the boys talk (read: HT teasing and MGS bickering) in MGS’s room. It felt like this new friend had bought some of MGS’s lost childhood back to her son’s voice.

The tighter they became, the more they naturally learned about each other. The topic of family was sore for both of them and something they didn't talk about often. MGS often got heated when the talk circulated to his father. Heated in a way that HT didn't find cute. He got angry and bitter. Usually, HT let him vent through it quietly. But MGS didn't hide things as such even though he didn't really like to talk about some of them. Instead, he was convinced and would stand his ground vehemently.

HT, on the other hand, was more evasive. He didn't want to put MGS in a position where he would know too much. MGS seemed impressed by HT’s brother. He sounded a bit jealous. HT also avoided saying much because he was ashamed. Here he was sitting in this home of good, decent people and enjoying their hospitality while he really was part of the bad guys in the world. His people were the ones who MGS hated so much when he talked about his father’s imprisonment.

But then something happened within HT’s world. Something that shocked him and scared him and gave him a traumatic experience. One day at school, he was visibly on edge and distracted. He looked increasingly tired. He snapped at MGS which he very rarely did. When at the end of the day, MGS asked if he wanted to come over (it was Friday), he was a bit relieved but also worried when HT said no. HT never said no to that.

That night Mrs. Mo had the late-night shift, so MGS was alone when HT suddenly showed up with a duffel bag. He looked horrible. There was an angry red mark on his cheek and a trickle/smear of dried up blood on the corner of his mouth. His eyes were red-rimmed. He hung his head low, asking MGS if he could stay the night after all.

MGS told him to take a bath. He heated up the leftover rice-noodle soup he had had for dinner. HT looked a bit lost coming out of the bath. MGS told him to take a seat and served the food. Quietly and slowly, being careful of his cut lip, HT slurped the soup. He wouldn’t meet MGS’s eyes.

MGS wanted to ask what the hell was going on but decided against it every time the questions danced on his tongue. He was curious but he had never seen HT like this. He looked darker. At some points of the night, MGS felt like he couldn't really recognize him at all.

MGS made HT a bed on the floor the usual way. HT just turned his back to him and hummed in return when MGS said good night. After a while, MGS drifted off but woke up to strange noises. It sounded like heavy breathing. Not panting exactly but more like...gasping for breath. He snapped the lights on and found HT sitting on his makeshift bed. His eyes were wide, and it looked like he was breathing hard but couldn't breathe at the same time.

Luckily MGS had been around enough hyperventilation to know what it looked like. He hurried to find a paper bag from the kitchen, cursing that the damn things were everywhere but seemed to vanish when you really needed them. He helped HT press the opening of the bag tightly against his gaping mouth. At first, it looked like HT got more panicked, but MGS kept pressing the bag firmly.

Little by little, HT’s breathing calmed down and the wild look in his eyes faded. Finally, he pushed MGS’s hands away and tried to go for a grin and joke how this was pretty lame of him but he couldn't quite work his charm. A bit lost, MGS wondered what to do. Then he asked if HT wanted to read some comics till they got sleepy again. HT didn't want to read but asked if MGS would read. And keep the lights on. And like that - while MGS was glancing at panels of high-school-level humor - HT told him about having a fight with his father, talking back to him, knowing when he had pushed over the limit, and the next thing his head had been ringing.

MGS didn't know which freaked him out more: the story, the flatness of HT’s voice, or when his voice started to get thick and he pressed his face tight against the pillow. MGS hesitated if he should comfort HT somehow but it all felt too awkward. So, he just listened and hummed whenever there was s suitable pause. Eventually, HT fell silent and after a while, MGS noticed he had fallen asleep. He fixed the blanket over HT’s shoulders, climbed to his own bed, and left the lights on.

HT stayed the weekend, but they didn't really talk about that night afterwards. The next morning, HT seemed more to himself, smirking and teasing, gobbling the breakfast MGS made them. Mrs. Mo looked at HT a bit funny when she came home from her shift but didn't say anything. She just gave the boys a free night from doing the dishes.

Overall, they got to know each other better than anyone else at school. HT knew about MGS’s excitable, softer, and adorable side. He was a good kid who worked hard and around whom HT felt at ease, though silently guilty. MGS knew the HT that wasn’t the kind of charmer everyone at school saw him as. Despite being so popular, he seemed strangely lonely to MGS. He guessed HT had some kind of darker side that he didn't want to talk about and tried to hide. MGS doubted anyone had seen HT like that other night. It seemed his family was mixed up in some shady business, and MGS didn't quite know how to feel about that.

The angst of unrequited love?

You mentioned if this version of Tianshan would be closer to Zhanyi, and I think that could be possible. I doubt they would be that kind of softer, lovey-dovey dynamic, but my nose kind of sniffed a possibility for a similar unrequited love as JY had.

HT could start gaining romantic feelings for MGS somewhere along the way. But in my head, he would hide his feelings much the same way he does/did in the canon version, just take it to a more obvious level. Mask his feelings with jokes and double meanings. Make him kind of push but then pull back as if unsure.

His feelings for MGS would be laced with believing he doesn’t deserve to be loved by someone like MGS. He’s one of the bad guys. MGS is one of the good ones, and his family has been hurt by people like HT enough. And yet HT craves for what he has with MGS and nurses his unrequited love. It gives him both pain and comfort.

But he didn't want to confess. For one, he wasn’t sure where MGS stood on things like love. He seemed awkward around girls and often ended up scaring them off by his glare and harsh tone. The topic of romance hadn't really come up, or if it had, MGS usually remained silent. One time HT had decided to roll the dice and brought up jerking off. MGS had gone beet-red and stammered that what the hell was HT talking about. For a moment, HT had toyed with the idea of pushing for more but decided against it and brushed the topic off as a joke. MGS had looked damn cute, though.

Secondly, and more importantly, HT didn't think he was worthy of MGS the way he was now. He needed to do better, he wanted to do better. He needed to make decisions instead of slinking around like a kicked puppy. He needed a vision for himself and then pursue it. So, he decided to become someone better for MGS. Someone strong and good and reliable. His own man. The first step was him making HC talk their father into letting HT live by himself. The school was a good enough excuse.

At the same time, they grew a bit apart. MGS got older and took on more part-time jobs. HT concentrated on working on himself. He lost sight of MGS for a while, and it turned out things had gone worse for him. As HT was busy becoming a better man, MGS had grown more bitter and angry. It wasn’t until HT learned that MGS had agreed to get expelled from school that he woke up to what direction MGS had drifted to. On HT’s watch, too.

They had a big argument about the deal. They had often bickered in the past but never really had a serious fight. HT was angry MGS was knowingly mixing up with people SL even though they were obviously taking advantage of him and basically making him write them a blank check. MGS fired back that how could HT understand anything since HT was people like SL. That cut deep for HT, and it was the first time he wanted to slap MGS. Instead, they got their separate ways, brooding and glaring.

The next time HT saw MGS’s face, he knew something had gone horribly wrong. He heard that MGS was accused of assaulting some girl. Furious, he went to confront MGS about how stupid he had been, but all the anger died when he saw how shaken MGS was. He looked completely lost and horrified. All he seemed able to worry about was “they are going to tell my mother”. HT hugged him tight and said that everything was going to be fine. He will sort this out, don’t worry.

He fought with SL and got HC involved, too. HC took care of the deal, but HT never told MGS how exactly it had happened. In the same way he had never told him that the homeless man had been dead by the time HC’s crew had gotten to the alleyway. Instead, HT shoved the guilt deeper where it fueled his drive to become a better man.

But HT decided one thing after that fiasco. He wouldn’t let MGS drift away anymore. He wouldn’t get so wrapped up in his own vision that he lost sight of what mattered the most.

That is I guess where this AU version kind of leaves off and connects to the canon story? This version of Tianshan would have their friendship established first, and HT’s romantic feelings would come later. They would be more unrequited in a similar angsty way as JY’s. The trust between would have also been established through their growing friendship. I feel like there would be tons of things that could be added to this, especially ending-wise, but...yeah, something like this maybe?

Thank you for your wonderfully interesting question, dear anon! How do you vision their relationship would have developed?

#19 days #tianshan #he tian #mo guan shan #answered ask

63 notes · View notes

mochees · 3 years

Text

"𝗶 𝗹𝗼𝘃𝗲 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗜𝗜"

-> headcanons, how they tell you they love you for the first time, part two!

characters: sakusa, iwaizumi, x fem!reader

warnings: fem reader, ✨healthy relationships✨, oikawa being oikawa

wc: 3.6K

a/n: WOAH okay uh did NOT expect that last set to be that popular,,,, y'all thirsty for love huh? me too anyway i thought id do a part two since i honestly really enjoyed writing the first set and my brain is vibrating with ✨thoughts✨ and seeing how much love it got really made me feel how i haven't felt in so long, so thank you! maybe ill turn this into a series so lemme know if u wanna see someone specific👀👀😏 also sorry for like posting and then dipping again lmao thats just my social media brand i have the attention span of a fucking worm

read part 1 here!

Sakusa Kiyoomi

okok i know its like common for sakusa to be shown as not interested in PDA (in private or public) unless hes feeling "needy"

BUT i believe that after a few weeks, maybe months if he's still unsure, he would definitely be much more comfortable with PDA

like, if its been a long time and your both serious about it and not just in a relationship to be in a relationship he starts to notice your routine

he notices the changes you make so that he's comfortable and so that you can be close to him without him being worried about icky yicky germy wormys (someone take away my thought privileges)

so now that he knows that you take care of your hygiene and exactly what you do for it, slowly he's wrapping an arm around you in 30° heat while you're both sweating

slowly he's "forgetting" his mask in the car for dates

slowly, but surely, he understands that a little bit of exposure, isn't a bad thing.

"kiyoomi?" your voice brought sakusa's eyes to yours where he could see the concern behind them.

"are you okay y/n?"

you'd decided, after three weeks of intense training and barely seeing your boyfriend, that you wanted just one day and one night with him. just the two of you, you know he'd never admit it, but he needed a break.

after atsumu decided to try out some new plays that didn't start off to well, sakusa had been silently groaning everytime he had to reach for something. he was excellent at making sure he wasn't overworking himself, and he wasn't, its just that the human body is an absolute wonder, and not in a good way. sometimes things that should have mildly injured you, left you with a tiny scrape, or a bruise or a very quick-to-fade red mark, and sometimes you drop a phone on your face and break your fucking jaw.

you offer him a gentle smile that completely washes away the concern in your eyes.

"im fine omi! but you," you reach your hands up to rest on both sides of his face turning his head side to side, studying it intensly.

"you're looking a little pale. and possibly grey."

"how do you mean y/n-chan?"

for such an intelligent man sometimes he really could be a himbo.

"i mean that i think you might be sick, baby."

sakusa stared blankly at you, as if he couldn't fathom the possibility of 'himself, sick?'

"omi? kiyoomi!" you nabbed his attention, "i think you're sick, and we best go home."

"but-" he started, but you were quick to cut him off knowing exactly what he was about to say.

"kiyoomi, it's inevitable. even if you were the worlds most decked out with ppe, and the worlds leading force in hygeine, you'd still end up catching a cold at least once. that's just how the world works baby. and don't worry about the date, all i want is to spend some time with you."

you ended up practically dragging your sad little puppy of a boyfriend back up the complex stairs and into his unit before settling him on the couch and getting to work.

"ill get you some water, you just sit here and relax. i don't want to think about what would happen if those dumbasses didnt have you there next week, bokuto and hinata would probably crack their skulls!" your attempt at a little light hearted humour helped sakusa forget for a moment, but he was quick to go back to not understanding how he was sick.

"thank you." he took the glass from your hand and rested it between his legs, when he noticed the rubber gloves you had clutched at your side. he knew what they were for, those were his cleaning gloves.

"what are you doing? you can't stay you'll..." he paused. "you'll get sick too."

"i'll be fine omi-omi! you just relax and drink lots of water, ill take care of this." you turned towards the wall with a soft smile before muttering, "ill take care of you."

sakusa watched you clean, the bucket full of diluted bleach, the duster, a cloth, and his cleaning gloves. he loved the way that they were too big for you, the way you kept having to pull them up every so often to keep them on. he loved the way that everytime he finished his glass of water, you were right there to fill it back up.

you don't even remember seeing, or hearing him lift himself from his spot on the couch and make his way over to where you were humming and covering the counters in the diluted solution. you felt a pair of big arms wrap around you, a chin on your shoulder and a kiss on your cheek.

"thank you, y/n. i love you."

thank god he caught a cold, or he might never have realized just how lucky he was.

Iwaizumi Hajime

family man

is a family man but not just ANY family man

yes, it's important to him that you like and respect his parents and vice versa

but its just slightly more important to him that you get along with his friends, his found family because im a SUCKER for the classic lilo n stitch trope

he knows that many people say that its his life and he doesn't need anyones approval etc.

but iwaizumi believes different, he believes that he doesn't need approval in the literal sense but rather approval through watching you interact with his friends and his family and how you do your best to learn about them and make time for them, even though you dont have to

and he thinks it's absolutely enthralling

the way your eyes light up when you see that book his mom has been talking about wanting to read and picking it up with no hesitation

how you're able to almost flawlessly keep up with issei and takahiro's antics while also making sure they don't go too far, something even iwaizumi struggles with

and most importantly, how effortlessly you connect with his childhood best friend.

there were many things that Iwaizumi Hajime enjoyed, volleyball, athletics, godzilla of course, spending time with three dumbasses (but he’ll never admit that) and a little while ago, he added you to that list.

you were so effortlessly able to connect with his team, his friends, and his family but most importantly, the way you were able to connect with Oikawa brought a smile to his face.

“oh, iwa-chan~, what are you admiring?” there he went again, Iwa thought, Tohru Oikawa’s dumb smirk and hyper awareness of his team, both on and off court. how he wated to head-butt him in the face. but, he showed restraint. after all, he wouldn’t want loserkawa to use you as a human shield from his head. so, he ignored the urge. but it passed as soon as he saw tohrus arm arond your shoulders, crossed feet and leaning on you ever so slightly while he took a few occasional swigs from his water.

and just like that, the incredible restraint vanished like morning mist.

you could practically see the steam coming off of his hot skin, and the vein popping out of his forehead, when you noticed what had him so heated. “trashykawa get your filthy hands off of my girlfriend!”

“excuse me!” he pouted, “my hands are clean and tailored! just like any responsible setters would be!” he stuck his lip out farther and gave you his irresistable puppy-dog eyes. “y/n-chan, i’m not filthy! am i?” he whined.

and, as the word suggests, his look was truly irresistable and you stumbled over your words. “n-no! of course not tohru!”

“see, iwa-chan! y-n thinks i’m squeaky clean!” his dumb smirk appeared again, and rather than continue with flirtykawas obvious games, Iwa opted for the less violen approach.

“don’t flatter yourself, dirtykawa. she’s just being nice.” he growled. “I’m done for the day, i have a project due. y-n.” he offered his hand to you like the gentleman he is not forcing you to take it, but the look in his eyes told you that he wanted you too.

“see you later, tohru!” you gave him a quick hug and intertwined your fingers with iwa’s.

now, technically, girls aren’t allowed in the boys locker room but since it’s after hours and just you and iwaizumi no one cared. to be fair though, literally no one knew except the team so, whatever you didn’t complain you got to watch yout ultra ripped boyfriend change. quality time. you thought, when you noticed him mid-change with his shirt over his head, resting on his arms. as any good girlfriend would, despite the devil on your shoulder, you came up behind him placing your hands on his seriously broad shoulders. taking notice of the tension, you started to work at the muscles. your care was quickly rewarded with a quiet sigh, and relaxed shoulders.

“hajime?” you continued rubbing at the tight fibers, “are you alright? you’re usually the one telling me im holding too much tension.” you giggled and he turned to face you placing one hand against the side of your face.

“hajime?” it came out shaky and worried.

“i’m okay,” he smiled “it’s just,” hesitation. he was never one to hesitate.

“i know i have no right to be but seeing oikawa so clingy with you it just, i dont know, it really gets to me i guess? he, just, he gets all the girls, all the attention, and i don’t want to-” you stopped him.

“sweetheart, it’s okay to be jealous or upset i’m not going to be angry, you have a right to your feelings. I understand how you feel, i never mean to flirt with him, if i ever have, i mean i don’t know, you know how bad of a flirt i am,” he chuckles at that. “it’s just that i know how important he is to you and you are so, so important to me and i want to be able to understand whats important to you, so you never have to choose between us, because that wouldn’t be fair. i love you, hajime iwaizumi, and everything about you.”

you expected him to be shocked, hell, he thought he would be shocked when or if you said it, but he wasn’t. and that’s exactly how he knew what to say next.

“i love you too, y/n l/n.” pressing a soft kiss against your lips.

“geez, it only took you two a century and forever.” someone snarked.

hajime chucked a towel at him “get out assykawa!” and he did, he bolted through the door laughing like the demon matchmaker he thought he was.

do not repost, copy, or claim.

previous | next

#haikyu #haikyuu #haikyuu!!#haikyu!!#haikyuu reader insert #haikyuu headcanons #iwazuimi #iwaizumi x y/n #hajime iwaizumi #iwa x reader #sakusa x y/n #sakusa kiyoomi #sakusa x reader #hq iwaizumi #hq headcanons #hq anime #hq sakusa #hq fanfic

69 notes · View notes

ka-za-ri · 4 years

Text

Descent Pt. 1

I told myself I was gonna take a break. I lied. I wanted to write a whole bin of Sin for Simeon. I’m sorry, not sorry at all. Let me know if you want to be a part of the tag list: Chapter Masterlist: Here Crossposted on Ao3: here Part [1] Part [2] Part [3] Part 4: [4] Part [5] Part [6] Part [7] Part [8] Part [9] Part [10]

Paring: Simeon x Reader Wordcount: 4,900 ish Genre: Smut Tags: Masturbation, Voyeurism, hints of dirty talk? Summary: Sent from the Celestial realm to observe and study humans; Simeon made a name for himself as the illustrious author of The Tales of the Seven Lords. After reaching acclaim for his first series, he's having trouble writing his next great hit. Good thing you're there for him as his manager and editor to help him work out the... kinks in writing.

Trip

The most dangerous aspect of humans was their innate ability to tempt even the most stalwart and steadfast of angels into a world of sin. Simeon was not immune to their ways, no matter how reclusive he became. It was easy to study them from afar, learning about them through numbers and sales numbers. The masses were easy to sway with a few pretty words. Blending in with humans was a trivial task for him. All he had to do was make a few public appearances for book signings and some launch parties for a new series; otherwise he was free to observe and study from afar.

After the international success of The Tale of The Seven Lords, Simeon found himself feeling rather empty. He needed a new project to keep him entertained in the human realm. However, no matter what he started to work on, it didn’t inspire the same sort of passion he had for his older series. He needed a new genre, a new style of writing to refresh his passion for words. If he was going to make it in an ever changing market, he would need to adapt as well. Yet, no matter what genre he tried, every draft he came up with seemed too mundane and overdone.

Everything except, for the temptation of writing something much more salacious than his last work.

Just entertaining the thought had him on a slippery slope of falling from the grace of the Celestial realm. Sure, the strict protocols of olde had been loosened over the centuries. Many angels realized that enforcing perfect adherence to the standards of purity set so long ago no longer applied to modern times. Rules had been loosened and enforcement had relaxed to the point where Simeon was almost positive if he wrote an absolutely obscene novel, he didn’t risk losing his Celestial powers.

The only problem was that he had no experience in the genre at all. He threw together a vague plot and outline, thinking it would be all he needed to inspire him. Surprisingly enough, the publishing house allowed for the drastic change in genre, confident that he would be able to create another best seller. Just having that much trust put in him made him want to succeed even more with the haphazard novel idea.

But, despite his determination to make his new manuscripts lewd, he was at a complete loss as to what, and how to write them properly. The outline he presented to you seemed excellent on paper. Even if it had a few plot holes, you knew he could patch them up with a little work. So, it was natural that you would push the approval and leave him to his own devices to work on the manuscript. You were sure that an author of his caliber would be able to break into a new branch of the literary market without any issues.

But, after several months of waiting, you had no contact at all from him regarding the progress of his new book. The industry needed proof of his work in order to justify their investment in him. Being so renowned, the pressure was on him to create something magnificent. You could only imagine the kind of stress he was going through and as his manager and editor, you were responsible for making sure he met deadlines. You hated to rush his process, but there was no way he could meet the dates set by the publisher if he didn’t give you something to work with soon.

After trying to reach out to him several times by phone and email with little to no response, the only option left was to go to his abode and see just what he was hiding from. No other outline he submitted had passed so this was his one and only chance to continue his writing career. You patiently waited after knocking on his door, hoping he would answer and wasn’t going to ignore you any further. You knew how serious writer’s block could be; but you hoped he wouldn’t let that get in the way of being a professional.

Luckily, the door opened soon enough and you were ushered in by an extremely tired and frazzled looking Simeon. He lead you to his office after you had taken off your shoes and changed into the guest slippers he offered. Simeon didn’t speak to you during the whole exchange, a shell of the soft spoken and attentive author you had come to know after so many years of working with him. He shuffled into his office, an obvious slouch in his posture and slumped behind his desk before gesturing at the empty chair across from him.

“I’m guessing you know why I’m here.” You said and he sighed in resignation, burrowing his head in his hands and running them through his hair. You felt terrible adding stress onto him, he looked ragged, like he hadn’t slept in days. The bags under his eyes were so dark, they almost looked like deep bruises.

“Yes… You want a manuscript…” his normally soft voice sounded hoarse and you wondered if he had eaten or drunken anything at all that day. “I’m almost done with the first draft… would you like to come and see?” He turned his laptop towards you and you started reading what he had so far.

All seemed well and good at first. The characters were believable and the premise, though a bit cheesy, was definitely acceptable for the genre. The further you read, the more you noticed large gaps in his writing. Whole paragraphs seemed to be missing and sentences ended midway. Dialog was left unfinished and by the time you reached the end of the first chapter, it was a mess. You could already feel the inevitable headache you were going to get from editing for him.

“Uhm…”

“Yeah, I know. It’s not my best work.”

He tried to smile, but the emotion didn’t reach his eyes. You reached out to him and held his hand, rubbing your thumb in reassuring circles on his palm. “You’ve worked hard on it, still. What’s got you so hung up though?”

He got a little flustered at your question, nervously running his hand through his hair and looking to the side. Writing such a topic with no experience in it was proving to be difficult for him. He could research all he wanted and consume all the media he could to aid him, but there was just something missing. His lack of knowledge was showing and he wasn’t sure how he could keep being composed about his failure so far. He gestured at the screen and shrugged, trying to get his message across without using words; but, when he saw your confused expression, he had to speak. “I don’t know what I’m doing.” he finally admitted. “I want to write this so badly, but I don’t know how to… describe the scenes the way I want to.”

You sat back in the chair, crossing your arms over your chest and nodding. You could only imagine the difficulty he was having in producing the quality content you were sure he was used to coming up with. With deadlines looming above your head, you needed at least a chapter to submit to the publishing house so they knew actual work was being done. You sighed, trying to think of ways to jump start his creativity. The gloomy atmosphere of his office didn’t seem help. The lights were dim and the curtains were all drawn. It didn’t feel like a place that could invoke the imagery he was going for. “Let’s move somewhere.” you suggested finally. “Do you have a room with lots of sunlight? Maybe a change of mood will help.”

“Ah… there’s the sunroom..” he said. “But I don’t know if just changing where I am writing will help the situation. If it hasn’t gotten done here, I doubt it will anywhere else.”

“Just try it.” you encouraged, already unplugging his laptop and taking it with you. “It’s so gloomy in here, even I’m getting depressed just sitting around. Come on, which way is it?”

“Ah… this way.” He said, shamefully shuffling out from behind his desk and showing you the way to the sunroom which overlooked a rather well manicured garden with a variety of flowers in full bloom. You marveled at the bright, airy feel of the room and took a second to really appreciate his choice in decor.

“Wow, would have never pegged you as the kind of guy who gardens.” You teased, flopping onto the couch he had in there and lounged in its plush confines. Looking through the glass ceiling, you watched a few clouds drift by while Simeon got comfortable in a recliner in the corner of the room. You could tell he was still a bit frustrated, but you knew getting him some sun would do him good.

“Well, when I don’t have any pressing deadlines, being with the plants helps relieve stress. It’s unfortunate that I cannot give you a tour this time.”

“There’s plenty of opportunities in the future. They’re not going anywhere, and neither am I. You know I’m going to keep hounding you until your manuscript is finished.”

He chuckled, nodding and opening up his laptop. You let silence pass between the two of you, going back to watching the clouds while the sound of his fingers flying across the keyboard lulled you into a daydream like state. You grabbed onto one of the large, decorative pillows he had on the couch, clutching it against your chest while you made up stories in your head about the clouds above. If you weren’t so stressed about turning something into the publishing house so soon; it would have been a perfect, calming afternoon.

The clack of the keyboard stopped after a little bit. Whatever inspiration Simeon had when he entered the room seemed to have fizzled out and he was stuck in yet another rut, writing one word and deleting it over and over again. You sighed, turning to watch him as he gnawed on his thumb, mumbling to himself.

“What’s not working?” You asked, your curiosity piqued.

“Just… this scene… it’s not working. I can’t envision it.” He grumbled. Looking up at where you were laying on his couch, clutching onto the pillow, he was suddenly struck by a brilliant plan. The worry lines on his forehead disappeared and he broke out into a slight smile when he realized how he could get his creative juices flowing. “Help me… I need inspiration.”

You sat up straight, ready to assist in any way you could. “Okay, what do you want me to do?” You asked.

Simeon squinted, in the right light, you looked similar to the main character he had written. His plan could work if you reenacted the scene he had in mind. The issue was actually explaining the scene to you in a way that didn’t make his body feel overheated. He was already playing with fire by writing such a lewd book, pushing his limits further felt like he was sliding right down a slope heading towards a great fall. There was no other way, he reasoned. As long as I do not defile her, it’ll be fine. Taking a deep breath, he got up from where he was and walked over to you.

“I need you to…. Uhm… Well.. how do I say this… I’m having trouble writing a love making scene and I need some… visual aids.” You blinked, processing his request and then looked him up and down, feeling your whole body heat up at once. You were sure you had kept your crush on him a secret. To have him ask you so suddenly to provide visual aid for an explicit novel felt like too big of a jump for you to comprehend. “Oh… Oh no, no, no. You don’t have to do anything with me.” He said, gesturing wildly when he saw you pointedly stare at his crotch. “You can just pretend that this is the ‘lover.’” He took the pillow from your arms and laid it on the couch.

You didn’t know if you should have felt relived or disappointed that he wanted you to reenact a sex scene with a pillow and not him. It was all quite a bit to take in, but the desperate pout on his face was something you couldn’t ignore. And both your jobs were on the line. You sighed in resignation. “Okay, okay… But only because we have deadlines coming up.” You said. “You’re lucky you’re cute. I wouldn’t do this for anyone else.”

Simeon smiled for the first time that day, hurriedly moving back to his computer and preparing to take notes on what you were doing. “I’m ready when you are.” he announced once he opened up a separate document.

“You sure you don’t want me to just, you know… do you?” You asked, cocking an eyebrow as you started to undress. It was embarrassing for sure; but part of you relished in seeing Simeon so flustered when it came to the nature of lewd things. You wondered why he had bothered submitting such an outline at all when he wasn’t familiar with how to write erotica; but his determination to branch out to other genres had won you over in the end. It just fell upon your shoulders to show this man how it was done.

“I… No… I can’t. I need to write.” He stuttered. Do not defile her, do not defile her. Her womb is sacred and not something you can toy with… Even if he wanted the first hand experience, he still had rules to abide by.

“Alright, whatever you say. You’re the boss.” You shrugged, unbuttoning your blouse. “Don’t forget, part of the sexiness is in the tease.” You explained, taking your time to sway your hips side to side as each button came undone. Trying to seduce a pillow was so much more boring than trying to seduce Simeon. The things I do for this job…

You made sure to waggle your ass as you peeled off your pants, tossing them to the side along with your blouse. There was something thrilling about being in a room made of glass. Any woodland creature that decided to come visit his garden at that moment would also get an eyeful of your progressively bare body. The rush of having Simeon watch you as you stripped had your heart racing.

At the very least, you knew your efforts weren’t in vain. You could hear the furious clacking of the keyboard as you gave the pillow in front of you a sultry look. As lame as it all was, it was still rather arousing to know you were being watched by the man who you had crushed on for so long now. “Alright… sir. I’m going to need you to lay down. You have a problem that only I can take care of.” You said to the pillow. You tried hard not to laugh at how ridiculous the scenario was. It wouldn’t do to break the mood, especially when you could tell Simeon was definitely getting some writing done.

You got back onto the couch, straddling the pillow between your legs once you were in nothing but your underthings. Licking your lips, you pretended that Simeon was under you and not the decorative cushion. If you closed your eyes, you could almost feel his lean body under your own, squirming in discomfort as you took control of the scenario. There was just something about how gentle and soft spoken he was that made your heart flutter with the need to dominate him until he was a flushed, moaning mess.

Using that fantasy in your mind, you slowly started to gyrate your hips onto the pillow, throwing your head back and moaning. “Oh yes…” You breathed, pleasantly surprised at the stimulation you got from the friction of your panties rubbing against your spread core. You hummed, content with the thought of Simeon holding onto your hips to keep your steady. If he wanted to watch, then you were going to give him the best show available.

You grasped at your breasts, teasing your nipples through the fabric of your bra until they were sensitive little buds that made you gasp. As you continued to grind against the pillow, you could feel your essence starting to flow, no doubt you were going to leave quite a substantial wet mark on the pillow if you continued. You wanted to pause and warn Simeon of what was about to happen; but when you turned and saw the look of concentration on his face, you didn’t dare break his focus.

He’ll just have to deal with it later… You figured going back to that happy place in your mind where the writer in front of you was actually under you. Closing your eyes, you imagined what it would be like to hear him moan as you pressed your heat against his cock. Surely he must sound absolutely angelic when he cums. Pushing slipping your hands under your bra, you pushed the fabric away, peeled it off your skin and threw it into a random corner to pick up later. “You have no idea how hot you look right now.” You purred, looking down at the cushions below you, wishing you had something sexier to talk dirty to; but you would have to make do with what you had.

Leaning down, you grabbed a pillow to act as your ‘lovers’ head and started to kiss it. It was so hard to ignore just how disappointing it was to make out with a lump of fabric and not the beautiful man in the corner who was so engrossed with his writing, you might as well have been invisible to him. You could only use your imagination to fantasize about how soft Simeon’s lips must be. He always took such good care of his skin and he had an ethereal glow about him, as if he was blessed by the sun itself. You moaned into the pillow, hating the rough canvas you were pressed up against, but at least your pussy was getting something out of how much you were humping the pillow.

You came up, gasping for air after having half smothered yourself with a pillow and glanced over at Simeon again. Even as he was furiously typing, you could see that he was at least a little affected by the show you were putting on. Good, I would have hated myself if he’s not even a smidgen turned on by this. You smirked, looking down at your ‘lover’ and pretended to whisper sweet nothings to them before getting off the couch.

Simeon made a small sound of protest when he saw that you were no longer straddling the pillow, but he quickly shut up when he saw that you were divesting yourself of your panties. “Oh… carry on.” He mumbled, going back to his document, though his eyes continuously flicked up towards you to make sure he was capturing the moment properly.

Feeling your bare pussy rub against the rough fabric of the pillow sent shivers of pleasure up and down your body and you moaned, riding it harder than before. The stimulation was great, but it wasn’t enough. Really, you wanted to have Simeon buried balls deep in you and not at his computer. However, your priority was your job and that meant sticking to what you had to work with. “Fuck…” You groaned, clenching your inner walls around nothing and wishing that you had at least a toy to fill you up and give you something to ride.

You ground against the pillow, your essence soaking the fabric and leaving a sizable wet mark, but you didn’t care. It was all the stimulation you could get and you were going to work it for all it was worth. One hand went back up to your breast, rolling your pert nipple between your thumb and forefinger, whining at the mixture of pain and pleasure you were giving yourself. “Yeah… you like watching me touch myself, babe?” You asked no one in particular; but truthfully, you hoped Simeon was really enjoying what he saw and heard..

His fingers on the keyboard never ceased moving as he vividly described the scene before him. He was so wrapped up in his work, he didn’t even notice himself getting hard. There was too much to write and no time to think about the attention the rest of his body was asking for. He licked his lips, his gaze constantly going back and forth from the document to your body. You were acting out the scene so well, he couldn’t stop writing; he needed to record every detail. You were everything he had imagined his main character to be; effortlessly confident, commanding in the bedroom and dripping with sex appeal. Even if it was a spur of the moment suggestion, he had no regrets considering he was getting so much more writing done in the last half hour than he had in the past two months.

Your breathing came out in short little pants as you tried to chase a release that just wouldn’t come with so little to work with. You reached between your legs to fondle your sensitive clit, groaning loudly as you made love to yourself. You didn’t know how long the scene was supposed to be, but your thighs were getting tired of riding an inanimate object and you just wanted to get off now.

“Mm fuck.. You feel so good…” You breathed, closing your eyes and imagining Simeon sliding inside of you. The first pass must feel so good. You fantasized about lowering yourself onto his cock slowly letting him savor every inch that entered you. In your head, his bright blue eyes glittered in lust, watching his dick disappear into you until your hips met and he would moan at the feeling of being completely buried in you. “Yeah… just like that…” You moaned, rubbing circles at your clit while your inner walls clenched rhythmically at air.

You went back to dragging your pussy across the fabric of the pillow smearing your essence all over to get as much out of the scenario as you could. Your fingers rubbed your clit harder, pushing you ever closer and closer to release. “Oh… Oh… I’m so close…” You whined, announcing your climax mere seconds before it happened. The last push you needed was looking over at Simeon and seeing him completely engrossed in what you were doing. His fingers frozen on the keyboard and his comfortable pants with a rather impressive tent in them.

“Fuck. Simeon.” you cursed, cumming all over the pillow. Your fingers slowed their pace around your clit, rubbing your labia back and forth as you rode out the orgasm. You fell forward onto the pillows beneath you, still slowly humping them while you let the initial high pass and the afterglow set in. It wasn’t until the haze of pleasure passed that you realized you had called his name while getting off on his couch in front of him.

Simeon swallowed hard, trying to ignore the way you called his name. Everything had gone smoothly until you had cried out for him while in the throes of your climax. He had stopped everything he was doing just mere moments before you did that; and now, he didn’t know if he had the mental capacity to continue with what he was writing.

For once, he was tempted to throw away whatever celestial blessings he had to take you and be the real reason why you screamed his name.

Shoving the indecent thoughts to the back of his head, he turned back to his document, writing a sentence and erasing it, repeating the action over and over again while his brain looped the beautiful image of you as you came on his couch. Now, he noticed the tightness in his pants, the obvious boner he sported as a result of such an experiment. But, he couldn’t be mad at it. He had achieved a groove in writing and he was sure he could finish the draft you needed in time.

Simeon let you rest a bit and gather yourself together on the couch. No doubt both of you were aware of the slip, but he could pretend it didn’t affect him as much as it did. Eventually, you had the courage to look back up at him, only to find him busily typing away at his computer. Sighing, and running your hand through your hair amused that he could stay so calm, you got up and started to get dressed. “So, I’m guessing moving somewhere else worked?” you asked, keeping your tone light.

“Hmm… yes.” He agreed, half paying attention to what you were doing. He couldn’t bear to look at you while you were exposed and waited patiently until you were fully clothed until he made eye contact and spoke to you again. “I definitely got some good notes in. I’ll just need a little more time to flesh out some of the filler scenes and I’ll email you the draft in a couple of days.”

You let out a laugh, surprised that he was able to focus on work still after what he had just witnessed. He truly was as innocent as he presented himself to be sometimes. “Alright, well. I’ll look forward to reading it.”

“Will you be back?” he asked, looking at you with hopeful eyes. “You were so helpful, I think I might need more help for the rest of the book.” Not, like I want to see something like that again… No, I just need it for research purposes…

“You know I’ll be back.” You laughed heartily, ruffling his hair. “I have to bother you at least once a month to make sure you’re on schedule to finish.”

Simeon slouched into his chair and let out a soft laugh in relief. “Of course, how could I forget.” In his mind, he was already planning new scenarios for you to play out. There would be much more research to be done, and supplies to be obtained before your next visit. But, all those things could wait. For now, he closed his laptop, noticing how low on battery it had gotten.Time had slipped by him, the sun already well on its way past the horizon. “It’s getting late…” He commented, trying to change the subject to something a little safer than the masturbation session you just had in front of him.

“Yeah… I’ll get going and let you work in peace.” In a moment of bold recklessness, you stepped forward and planted a quick kiss on his cheek. “See you next time, babe. Can’t wait to see what you’re gonna make me do for you.” you teased, giving him a coy wink before showing yourself out.

As soon as the door was firmly shut, Simeon let out a deep sigh, laughing out loud at the predicament he had put himself into. He wanted to quit everything and dissolve into the ground. He wanted to continue writing and see your body writhe in pleasure. He wanted to also defile you and sate himself inside of you. Most of all though, there was a growing darkness within him, one he didn’t even notice just yet; and that part of him craved to see you put in your place to beg for him like the god he knew he was.

Pushing all his desires down and curbing his lust for the time being, he moved his computer back to his office and let it charge for the rest of the evening. His mind still swirled with the image of your exposed body riding that pillow in the sunroom. The early evening sunset made your body glow with an almost angelic light; and for once, he felt jealous of an inanimate object.

Quietly padding back into the sunroom, he looked at the soiled cushion; feeling a surge of heat rush through him when he saw the wet spot you had left behind. Licking his lips, he approached it like it was a wild animal, tentatively poking at it. If he closed his eyes, he could pretend to still feel your warmth lingering on the fabric. He could feel shame rising up in him as he laid down on the couch, rested his head on the pillow and took a deep breath, memorizing the scent of your arousal.

His hand reached down between his legs, slipping past his pants and to his hard length that needed his attention. Turning his head to smother his moans and to surround himself with your unique smell, he teased and pleased himself, putting himself in the scenario you had played out just mere moments ago.

“Oh… oh fuck…” He groaned surprised at how little effort it took to make him cum and ruin his pants to the thought of you bouncing on his cock and calling his name. He was quickly falling down the deep end of temptation and he could feel the darkness of sin encroaching.

The scariest part was the fact that he didn’t care at all.

#Obey me #obey me smut #Simeon x Reader #Obey me fanfiction #Obey Me!#I just want to give this angel all the love and sex he deserves #11 planned chapters so far #Please enjoy the sin #my writing #obey me simeon

276 notes · View notes

coll2mitts · 3 years

Text

#28 Hairspray (2007)

Welcome to Hairspray, where a well-intentioned, woke, white teenage girl singlehandedly ends segregation in 1960s Baltimore.

Y’know, after watching Cry-Baby, I wasn’t super keen on revisiting Hairspray, but I figured it deserved a fair shot. I hadn’t seen the original since I was in high school, so I booted up HBO Max and settled in for a long night of old-timey dance moves and racial inequality. Guys... the 1988 version of Hairspray is flippin’ great.

The cast is just to die for. Ricki Lake, who I only knew as a talk show host in my childhood, is a great Tracy Turnblad. My favorite devious sea witch Divine is her mother, and Jerry Stiller is her father. Goddamn Debbie Harry and Sunny Bono are her rival’s parents, and Amber Von Tussle is motherfucking Colleen Fitzpatrick. As someone who has a vested interest in all famous Colleens, I was stoked to see that Hairspray was Vitamin C’s first acting gig.

FUN FACT: According to Wikipedia (which is never wrong), Graduation (Friends Forever) charts on iTunes at the end of every school year. Colleen is also the VP of music at Nickelodeon, so she’s doing just fine.

Anyway, the original Hairspray is campy, edgy and hilarious. If I were Miss Soft Crab 1945, I too would bring it up every chance I got. The story really boils down to two horny teenage girls trying to claw their way to the top, but the charm of Tracy is she’s trying to pull everyone else up with her. The way they handle segregation and racial inequality is over-the-top ridiculous, but somehow more realistic than its updated counterpart (put a pin in this). I mean, a racist white woman shoved a bomb in her hair to own the libs and it gloriously explodes on her head. I haven’t seen the musical adaptation of Hairspray, so my opinions of how true it is to its source material won’t be explored here, but the 2007 movie adaptation, to me, left a lot to be desired.

Hairspray might be the most popular in a recent trend of non-musical movies being adapted for Broadway. I remember back in the 90s when Beauty and the Beast hit the stage - it was so successful Disney now has the movie-to-Broadway pipeline on speed dial. But now we’re getting a shitload of movies with no musical elements being fast tracked to Broadway, like Kinky Boots, Bend it Like Beckham, Mean Girls, Beetlejuice, Heathers, Waitress, Legally Blonde, fucking Groundhog Day with music written by Tim Minchin, just, so goddamn many of them. I love musicals, but to say I didn’t want to see The Heathers threaten Veronica in 3-part harmony would be an understatement, so I’m immediately skeptical to the quality of this content and hesitant to consume it. Unfortunately for me, Hairspray is one of the few who had their *corny* musical adaptation also committed to film, and it is a neutered, earnest, high school choir translation of the original and it made my teeth hurt.

The two positives I’ll give the remake are the sets/costumes are great, and the cast serve their roles well, although I will never be OK with someone wearing a fat suit as a costume. The songs are... fine. Again, this era of music is not my favorite, so I’m never going to get excited over “It Takes Two” or “I Can Hear the Bells”. It’s just the tone is so different from the original, and by the end of the movie I was exhausted and very glad it was over. Writing about it now has required several breaks and side-tangents and I can’t even get to the fucking synopsis of the movie... ugh let’s just do this.

youtube

Tracy Turnblad is a “pleasantly plump” teenage girl living in 1960s Baltimore whose sunny disposition makes her oblivious to the reality of murky situation she is living in. We’re quickly introduced to her obsession, “The Corny Collins Show”, which features a number of far-out teens that love to dance, including multi-year winner of Miss Teenage Hairspray and miss Pitch Perfect herself Amber Von Tussel. Her mother, Velma, played by Michelle Pfeiffer, is the station manager at WYZT, and uses her power to keep Amber featured front and center.

After a girl on the show gets knocked up, an audition is held to replace her. While Tracy’s mother Edna, regrettably played by John Travolta in a fat suit, is afraid that Tracy’s weight will prevent her from landing the gig, her father, puzzlingly played by like a 60-something Christopher Walken, is generally supportive. True to Edna’s feeling, Tracy is fat shamed by Amber and Velma and doesn’t make the cut.

After getting detention for skipping class for an audition that didn’t pan out, Tracy makes friends with a bunch of black students who are all excellent dancers. Turns out her new friend Seaweed is the son of Motormouth Maybelle, the sometimes-host of "The Corny Collins Show”, played by Queen Latifah. Velma, in addition to being a massive bitch, also segregates the station’s black talent from the main show, only to be featured one night a month on “Negro Day”. While Tracy is boogying down, Link, Amber’s boyfriend and one of the stars of TCCS, peeps at her ass and tells her if she shook her rump in front of Corny at the Hop, he’d have no choice but to put her on the show.

youtube

In the original movie, Tracy Turnblad fucks. She moves in on Link and devours him whole, with no mind given to her size. She is a kind of bratty, confident young teenager that isn’t afraid to reach out and grab what she wants. Tracy in the 2007 version is the most innocent cinnamon roll that has ever been baked. Link gives her one compliment and she drifts into fantasies of marrying him. Part of me is annoyed by this, but the other part of me appreciates misguided optimism played as humor.

At the Corny Collins hop, Tracy steals borrows Seaweed’s dance move and lands a place on TCCS council. After declaring she wants every day to be Negro Day, the head of the station declares he wants that “chubby communist girl” off the show. Corny, played by a dreamy James Marsden, sticks his neck out for Tracy and furthermore, says the show should be integrated. As Tracy’s popularity skyrockets, the station shows more leeway to her size and her look, but to maintain some semblance of control, Velma works to completely edge out Negro Day.

Meanwhile, Link is clued into how fun it is in detention, and him, Tracy, and Penny all dance their way to Motormouth Maybelle’s record store for a potluck. When Seaweed introduces his new white friends to his mother, Penny delivers my favorite line of the whole movie, “I’m very pleased and scared to be here.” Amber rats out Tracy’s activities to her mother, and Edna arrives to Motormouth’s with the intention of dragging Tracy home until she realizes that black people are OK because they eat brisket.

youtube

After Edna shoves a bunch of food in her face, the gang finds out that Negro Day on “The Corny Collins Show” has been cancelled. Tracy has the great idea to protest the television station, and all the black people are like, “Why didn’t we think of that?” Link decides to bow out of the march because there’ll be talent agents at the Miss Hairspray Pageant, and he doesn’t want to give up his big shot at fame and glory to fight for a entire race of people’s basic rights.

The next day, Tracy and her mom are the only white people in a sea of black people to march to the station. Queen Latifah sings a very earnest song about the resilience of her community, because this is the Serious Portion TM of the musical. Tracy assaults a police officer without giving any mind to what it would do for all the black people she’s marching with, and runs away to let them handle the consequences. The movie doesn’t show any police brutality because Reasons, and a bunch of protestors are arrested and immediately bailed out by Tracy’s Dad. Tracy eventually ends up back at Motormouth Maybelle’s record shop so she can hide there without considering how dangerous it would be for Motormouth to harbor a fugitive of the law.

The next day is the Miss Teen Hairspray competition broadcast at WYZT, and with Tracy being wanted by the police, they have to sneak her into the station. She bum-rushes the set to sing a song with a now-enlightened Link about not stopping progress, while also inviting Motormouth Maybelle’s daughter, Little Inez, on stage to dance. Everybody calls-in to vote for her because the only racist people in Baltimore run the television station, and Little Inez is crowned Miss Teen Hairspray. Amber is like fine with it even though her mom isn’t, and everyone dances and sings to celebrate that “The Corny Collins” show is now integrated! Meanwhile, I’m left wondering why Amanda Bynes was forced to wear a dress that she can’t move her legs in, even though they knew she would participate in the show’s closing dance number. The end.

youtube

Oh, and there’s also a whole B plot where Velma tries to fuck Tracy’s dad and Tracy’s mom finds out and gets upset for like 30 seconds. This is immediately resolved by a song and dance number among a bunch of laundry.

This movie is fine and competent or whatever, but for some reason it just rubs me the entirely wrong way. Tracy constantly says that the 1960s are changing for people who are different, implying that an overweight white teen also knows what it’s like to be discriminated against in the same way black people are. The movie does roll its eyes at some of her most tone-deaf “I’m an overenthusiastic ally” moments, like “I wish every day was Negro Day!” and “This is afro-tastic!”, but it also goes out of its way to talk about how much Tracy has helped the black community. Like, by doing what? Being fat and on TV? That being said, she does use her privilege to feature black dancers on a major television broadcast, so by the end of the movie she becomes the person everyone says she is. Also, I’m a dumb, overweight, white, middle-aged woman, so I’m not the right person to get all indignant about a well-intentioned feel-good Broadway musical.

Final thoughts: If you love bright colors, cheese, and sincere, glossy reflections of the 1960s civil rights movement written by a bunch of white dudes, this movie is for you.

#100 best musical movies of all time rotten tomatoes #unwarranted opinion

7 notes · View notes

lilydalexf · 4 years

Photo

Old School X is a project interviewing X-Files fanfic authors who were posting fic during the original run of the show. New interviews are posted every Tuesday.

Interview with aka "Jake"

aka "Jake" has 83 stories at Gossamer, but don't miss her website for fics because a number of them come with cover images and/or illustrations you can't see at Gossamer. She's written some of the most epic and well-known stories in the fandom, including Abaddon's Reign and The Mastodon Diaries. Big thanks to aka "Jake" for doing this interview.

Does it surprise you that people are still interested in reading your X-Files fanfics and others that were posted during the original run of the show (1993-2002)?

It does surprise me! It just goes to show the series has amazing staying power and there are many excellent writers in the fandom who were able to capture the essence of Mulder and Scully and expand on XF canon every bit as successfully as the writers of the TV show. Some even more so.

What do you think of when you think about your X-Files fandom experience? What did you take away from it?

Like any online community, there were upsides and downsides. But what impressed me most were the lasting friendships that spilled into real life. Overall, the folks I encountered in the fandom were kind, helpful, talented, and inspiring. I’m still in contact with many of them and even meet up regularly with a couple of people who I consider my closest friends now, though we live far apart. Readers could be especially encouraging, poking authors with virtual sticks to get them to write more and faster. An amazing group called the Mastoholics formed to spur me on while I was posting The Mastodon Diaries as a work in progress. Several of them traveled to my house for a mini-con after the story was finished. Other folks called betas provided invaluable editing advice to authors. I was lucky to have several very good ones, but especially appreciated mimic117 and xdksfan. They went beyond proofreading; they pointed out confusing passages, missing plot points, and anything that seemed OOC (out of character). This polishing was a vital step before posting. To think they did it for nothing but the love of fanfic. It was a considerable time commitment.

Social media didn't really exist during the show's original run. How were you most involved with the X-Files online (atxc, message board, email mailing list, etc.)?

There were several key sites for posting and discussing fic when I started writing in 1997. These included Ephemeral, Gossamer, and Haven. Several sites issued writing challenges, like Haven, The Project, and The Church of X. Others gave out awards, like P1013 [Lilydale note: short for Prometheus1013] and the Spookys. I Made This! Productions invited authors, including me, to write episodes for virtual seasons of the show. I recall joining a couple of listservs early on, too.

What did you take away from your experience with X-Files fic or with the fandom in general?

Overall, it was an uplifting experience. My writing improved tremendously thanks to honest feedback and several key collaborations, particularly with co-authors Brandon D. Ray and the Secret Squirrels. I’d never written anything longer than an office memo when I started my first fic. I had nowhere to go but up. These gifted and generous authors helped me grow as a writer. Collaborating with them made the experience of writing even more creative, exciting, and special.

What was it that got you hooked on the X-Files as a show?

The first episode I watched was The Field Where I Died. It hooked me immediately. Back then, there was no way to go back and watch the earlier episodes. It wasn’t until several years later I was finally able to watch the first 3 seasons on DVDs.

What got you involved with X-Files fanfic?

I stumbled upon Ephemeral where I read a fic called Acadia by RivkaT, which was set in Acadia National Park in Maine. If I recall correctly, it was a casefile with an emphasis on Mulder and Scully’s relationship. It felt like an episode of the show. I was thrilled to find a seemingly endless supply of XF stories that allowed me to extend my enjoyment of the TV series. It wasn’t long before I considered writing a story myself, a case file, although as mentioned above, I had no previous writing experience, just the desire to write down and share my ideas about Mulder and Scully.

What is your relationship like now to X-Files fandom?

I haven’t been active in the fandom for quite some time. I have no idea where writers post or readers go to find fic. That said, to keep my mind off the pandemic and other disheartening news this year, I began writing a new fic, which I plan to add to my site in September.

Were you involved with any fandoms after the X-Files? If so, what was it like compared to X-Files?

No, I never joined any other fandoms.

Who are some of your favorite fictional characters? Why?

Sadly, no fictional characters have captured my heart and attention the way Mulder and Scully did.

Do you ever still watch The X-Files or think about Mulder and Scully?

Yes, I do still watch XF. Before Seasons 10-11 aired, I rewatched the entire series and both movies. I enjoy the stories as much now as I did back in the day.

Do you ever still read X-Files fic? Fic in another fandom?

No, not for ages. I’ve never read any stories from other fandoms.

Do you have any favorite X-Files fanfic stories or authors?

There are so many great authors and I’m hesitant to name them for fear of leaving someone out and hurting their feelings. Like a lot of fic writers, I was inspired by Prufrock’s Love beautiful way with words. Mountainphile wrote taut, realistic case files that I admired. David Hearne took on unique perspectives. To name just three.

What is your favorite of your own fics, X-Files and/or otherwise?

I think my best writing may be in my long, post-col story Abaddon’s Reign. The story I most enjoyed writing was The Case of the Exuberant G-Man. It was a fun story that seemed to write itself.

Do you think you'll ever write another X-Files story? Or dust off and post an oldie that for whatever reason never made it online?

As mentioned above, I’m finishing up a new fic now and plan to post it on my site on or near the anniversary of the airdate of Season 1’s episode Squeeze. My story takes place in 2023, 30 years after Eugene Tooms was mangled to death in an elevator. I wanted to explore the idea of Tooms returning. How would that be possible? And what would Mulder’s and Scully’s lives be like five years after losing their son at the hands of CGB Spender and learning Scully was pregnant once again? I honestly thought I’d never write another fic but here we are.

Where do you get ideas for stories?

Often from the unanswered questions left by the show, the off-screen scenes we didn’t get to see.

Do your friends and family know about your fic and, if so, what have been their reactions?

The majority, no. Years ago, I told my sister I was writing XF fanfic and she looked at me like I’d grown two heads. We didn’t speak of it again. More recently, my sister-in-law discovered my work. She’s a big XF fan and still reads fanfic, so her reaction was very accepting. Back in the early days, fanfic wasn’t considered serious writing and had a pretty bad reputation, which honestly didn’t jibe with the truly fine quality of some of the writing in the fandom. Sure, it wasn’t all good but there were some real gems.

Is there a place online (tumblr, twitter, AO3, etc.) where people can find you and/or your stories now?

All of my stories are on my site at akajake.net.

Is there anything else you'd like to share with fans of X-Files fic?

Just that I’m pleased there are folks like you who are helping to continue the tradition and fun! Thank you for interviewing me and giving me the opportunity to stroll down memory lane.

(Posted by Lilydale on September 1, 2020)

#new post #old school x #newsflash: new aka jake story coming soon #xfiles fanfic #xf fanfic #xf fanfic author interviews #aka jake

91 notes · View notes

sophieakatz · 3 years

Text

Thursday Thoughts: My Top Ten Muppets

Listeners of NPR’s Pop Culture Happy Hour recently cast their votes to rank the best Muppets – an impossible decision, really. And yet, once the top ten list was read aloud on the podcast, I found myself completely unsurprised. It’s a list that made sense, a list of safe bets. It’s also an incredibly Muppet Show-heavy list, even though the competition was open to Muppets of all properties, including Sesame Street and my beloved Dark Crystal. The full top 25 list, available here, reveals that a few Sesame Street Muppets ranked in the teens, but still. We all know the top ten is where it’s at, and this top ten was neither creative nor representative. It struck me as a list of popular Muppets, not a list of the best Muppets. Most of my favorites weren’t on that list at all!

So, here’s my take on the ten best Muppets – and because I don’t believe in objective Muppet rankings, I want YOU to reblog this post and tell me your favorites!

10. Swedish Chef

The Chef came in ninth on NPR’s rankings, and I gotta be honest, I’m on the same page with them on this one. Maybe it’s the fact that when he comes onscreen, there’s no way to predict how the sketch will end. Maybe it’s the bizarreness of human fingers on Muppet arms – and knowing that those arms indicate a frankly superhuman feat of teamwork going on under the table. Maybe it’s just the Popcorn video, which always brightens my mood. Whatever it is, the Swedish Chef is definitely tenth best.

9. Fozzie Bear

I like Fozzie. He’s an underdog, never giving up in his pursuit of fame and audience acclaim. And even though his whole shtick is that he can’t succeed – Statler and Waldorf always get bigger laughs during his bits – he objectively has succeeded, because he’s still around and making us laugh after all these years.

What puts Fozzie in the top ten for me, though, is that I genuinely find his jokes funny. Honestly. I really do. So maybe Fozzie Bear sketches don’t really work for me, but Fozzie Bear himself does.

8. Rosita

I mentioned my disappointment before in the “official” ranking’s lack of Sesame Street characters. Sure, the cast of The Muppet Show has had a notable cultural impact, but it would be a disservice to Muppetkind if we ignored the impact of their friends on Sesame Street.

I could never forget Rosita. She’s not the most popular Muppet; she’s never had a super catchy song or a roll-on-the-floor-laughing one-liner to rival the others’ success. But her “Spanish Word of the Day” segments have a permanent spot in my memory. She’s sweet, she’s sincere, and she’s an excellent friend to her more famous fellow Muppets. (And as a bilingual Muppet, she’s really hecking important – there’s an episode where she deals with some kids making fun of her accent, and it’s equal parts heartbreaking and heartwarming!)

7. Rowlf

While other Muppets have one-note personalities – see number 10 on this list above, and number 5 below – there’s also Muppets like Rowlf. He’s not an “Anything Muppet,” by any means – he’s a character in his own right – but Rowlf is a dog who rises to any occasion. He sits at the piano to bring both beautiful classical pieces and hilarious parodies to life, and it’s all music to my ears. He can be the Straight Man to more chaotic Muppets’ antics, but just one clip of “Veterinarian’s Hospital” proves that he’s got enough silliness in him to take center stage.

And all the while, no matter what role he’s playing, he’s still that chill dog I adore – calm and adorable, with that round black nose, those big fluffy paws, and those floppy ears just begging to be scratched.

6. Deethra

As much as I love the original Dark Crystal film, the Netflix prequel series Age of Resistance has one big thing going for it: its characters. The protagonists of this show draw me in and make me care, quickly and continually. And best among them all is Deet. Deethra the Gelfling – small and beautiful, kind and powerful. She cares wholeheartedly about the world around her, and that care begets a wisdom that balances out her naivete in fascinating ways.

Muppets are so often silly, and we love them for it. But Deet embodies the Muppets’ potential to tell a serious story, a potential we would be remiss to ignore.

5. Animal

Oh my god, Animal. If you want to talk about the sheer silliness of Muppets, you need to talk about Animal. There’s just no way around it. He’s loud – in both sound and color scheme. And he’s absolutely bonkers. I know every drummer has an Animal in them, and it’s likely that all humans do. We’re just not all comfortable with letting him out to play.

That’s what’s so great about watching Animal do his thing. He has no inhibitions; he is freedom, he is chaos. And he lets me feel a little freer by association.

4. Hup

I talked a bit about underdogs in the Fozzie Bear section above. There’s an essay to be written about the Muppet as underdog; it’s an essential Muppet quality. Muppets are characters you logically wouldn’t expect to succeed, but they persevere, nonetheless.

Hup is the underdog of Dark Crystal: Age of Resistance. He’s the Podling who wants to be a paladin. Dear god he’s adorable, dear god he’s funny, and dear god do you root for him (and his spoon) to save the day! Of all the characters in this show, he feels the most Muppety – and that’s why he’s higher on the list than Deet. He’s still a serious character in a serious story (when he cries… my goodness), but he’s got that classic Muppet spirit to him.

3. Elmo

You know, I just don’t get why Elmo gets such a bad rap. Is it that people think he’s annoying? Sure, he is! Muppets are objectively annoying characters – they all are. Yes, even the one you’re thinking of right now. But I fricking love Elmo. He’s joyful, he’s spirited, and he’s exploring the world around him in that carefree way only a child can – and he brings you along on that adventure! “Elmo’s World” is your world. “Elmo’s Song” is your song. Elmo’s laugh is fricking infectious. And yeah, I’m probably biased by nostalgia (my dad’s Elmo impression cracks me up to this day), but Elmo is a darn good Muppet and he deserves our respect and admiration.

2. SkekSil

On a completely different note… let’s talk about the Chamberlain. There aren’t really that many Muppet villains. There are plenty of Muppet henchmen, providing comic relief for a human actor who isn’t supposed to be seen as that much of a threat anyway. The Skeksis of Dark Crystal are a notable exception, and SkekSil, better known as the Chamberlain, stands out among them. He is evil and he is smart. I hate him, and at the same time, I am fascinated by him. He knows what he wants and how to get it, even though he’s nowhere near as strong as the other Skeksis. He is, in his own way, an underdog. He believes in himself, and he wields that confidence as a weapon, calmly explaining to his enemies why they should do what he wants. You just can’t look away. He’s an amazing character, embodying the dark side of Muppethood.

1. Cookie Monster

When my mom first shared that episode of Pop Culture Happy Hour with me, in which the hosts talked about their favorite Muppets, I first thought, “How could you decide?” And then Stephen Thompson said his favorite was Cookie Monster, and I shouted “YES!!!” out loud. Because he’s right – Cookie’s the best.

Cookie Monster is eternally funny, whether you’re five or fifty-five. Everything that comes out of his mouth is pure gold (“Why me not get royalties?”) He’s got the best songs – not only the classic “C is for Cookie,” but also “Me Want It (But Me Wait),” “Me Am What Me Am,” and the “Healthy Foods” rap. All the stuff I love about other Muppets on this list – the unpredictability, the ability to fit into any role a sketch requires, the lack of inhibitions, the confidence, the chaos, the unexpected moments of wisdom – he’s got it all. He’s irreplaceable, he’s lovable, and he’s the top of my Top Ten Muppets list.

10 notes · View notes

robininthelabyrinth · 4 years

Note

i dont know what would cause this, but how about an au where the outcomes of the wen attacks on lotus pier and the cloud recesses are reversed? the jiang have some losses and more injuries, perhaps their sect leader is in hiding, but the twin jades of lan have lost everything

Wei Wuxian had stopped smiling.

It wasn’t that Lan Wangji didn’t understand why the cheerful disciple who never remembered pain that he had known at the Cloud Recesses was gone. The stories had reached even Gusu: Yunmeng’s Lotus Pier had been attacked, its defense breached, its buildings burned. They said the sect leader and his lady wife were both dead or in comas, lingering briefly before death; they said that the sect heir had disappeared with the sect’s treasures.

They said Wei Wuxian had tried to defend his home, and that they’d broken his leg for it.

Despite that, he was here – by choice, even, since he wasn’t officially a direct disciple of a clan. He didn’t count.

Jiang Yanli counted.

She was quiet and reserved, her manners excellent and her temperament calm; she was polite to everyone even as they distanced themselves from her as if she carried the plague. No one wanted to anger the Wens by showing favor to a sect they’d already shown themselves inclined against.

Wei Wuxian stalked her heels, weight heavier on one leg than the other, pain creasing his face into a constant scowl. He never let her leave his sight, not even for a moment; it was as if he had turned into a snarling dog, suspicious of everyone.

Lan Wangji missed the brightly smiling boy that had so occupied his thoughts.

Things were hard at the indoctrination camp. As Lan Wangji’s uncle had gloomily forecast, the Wens did not care about their hostages; they took their swords away and forced them to do work, often for many hours, as if they were simple laborers.

When the rations began to be reduced, the quality turning from merely mediocre to actively rotten, Jiang Yanli quietly offered that she could make soup if enough people turned their rations over to her.

Wei Wuxian turned his over at once, of course; there had never been any question about that. From everyone else, there was silence: they’d all practiced inedia, of course, but that couldn’t be done for too long – and what if someone took what little they had?

Lan Wangji walked over and offered up his plate.

Jiang Yanli smiled at him. “Thank you, Lan-er-gongzi. I promise you’ll enjoy it.”

He nodded silently. It wasn’t her smile he’d hoped to see.

“ – you can have mine, too,” another voice said, and Lan Wangji turned his head in surprise: it was Jin Zixuan, holding out his place. “I like soup better.”

His tone is defensive, almost as if he were afraid of being called out for his kindness.

Jiang Yanli’s smile spread, softening, and Lan Wangji hadn’t realized how formulaic the one aimed at him had been until he saw the real thing. “I’ll make sure it’s good, Jin-gongzi.”

He huffed and sat down some distance away, not looking at her.

Lan Wangji looked at Wei Wuxian, hunched over and staring at his hands, from the corner of his eyes and felt a sudden, unexpected stab of sympathy for Jin Zixuan. Perhaps it would be more accurate to describe it as a feeling of fellowship: they were in the same boat, it seemed.

The soup ended up being more delicious than Lan Wangji had expected – significantly so.

Even Jin Zixuan looked impressed. “You made this out of those ingredients?” he asked Jiang Yanli. “How?”

She smiled. “Do you have an interest in cooking, Jin-gongzi?”

He wrinkled his nose, that old Jin arrogance coming back in a sudden rush, and Lan Wangji could see, clear as crystal, the mistake he was about to make. Out of pity, he decided to intervene.

“I am interested,” he said, and Jiang Yanli turned her head to him with surprise in her eyes – not surprise at the professed interest, but surprise that suggested she’d entirely forgotten he was even there.

“I am, too!” Jin Zixuan put in at once. “I’ve always been curious as to what happens in the kitchens, but I’ve never been allowed to go too close.”

An obvious lie, particularly when it came to his professed interest in cooking, but Lan Wangji’s work was done. He listened to Jiang Yanli’s explanation of how she’d done it and slipped away when she offered to walk Jin Zixuan through the steps of how it was done the next evening, if he was interested.

He wasn’t expecting Wei Wuxian to follow him into the woods near their camp.

He reached a clearing, then turned to look at him.

“You’re a better choice than him, Lan-er-gongzi,” Wei Wuxian said. He looked tired. “But she likes him for whatever stupid reason. So don’t – don’t get your hopes up. You’re not going to get her attention.”

“I didn’t do it for that,” Lan Wangji said.

Wei Wuxian looked surprised. “Then why…?”

Lan Wangji shrugged.

Wei Wuxian came over to him and nudged his shoulder with his own. “Come on, Lan Zhan –”

It was Lan Zhan, still, despite everything, and Lan Wangji had never been happier to hear his own given name.

“– you can tell me. You’re not interested in how to cook pork bone soup – you Gusu people eat only vegetables whenever you can, don’t think I didn’t notice. If you didn’t do it to get shijie’s attention, why did you do it?”

He went on in this vein for a while, pestering, and eventually Lan Wangji gave in and explained.

“He needed the help.”

Wei Wuxian stared at him. A moment later, he laughed – unwillingly, the initial huff of laughter growing into a giggle, a snort, and finally succumbing to a full-bellied laugh.

“You’re right!” he exclaimed. “He does, oh, he really does, doesn’t he? He’s awful at this. The only thing that made him make a move at all was because he was drinking vinegar – oh, this is fantastic! You have to keep this up for a few days – at this rate, we’ll have them married by spring! I’ll owe you for this one, Lan Zhan; you ever need anything, you just ask me, okay?”

Lan Wangji looked at how Wei Wuxian was finally smiling again, and felt he’d done a good thing.

“Think nothing of it,” he said.

“I’m serious!” Wei Wuxian insisted. “We’re partners in crime now! If you ever need anything, anything, you come to me first. You hear me? Me first.”

Lan Wangji hummed lightly in agreement, thinking nothing of a light-hearted promise made under the moonlight. He did not expect he would ever think of it again, except perhaps in his dreams; he did not expect he would ever actually take Wei Wuxian up on his offer.

But when the Cloud Recesses burned and he had fled into the night, leaving his father’s corpse behind and carrying his brother’s broken body on his back –

He went to Yunmeng.

#mdzs #wei wuxian #lan wangji #wangxian #jiang yanli #jin zixuan #do they have a ship name?#my fic #my fics #Anonymous

704 notes · View notes

a-d-curtis · 4 years

Text

Haggling the High Stakes

Everyone knows that Aang loves to haggle.

It certainly had become a running joke among their friends at least. Thankfully Aang’s haggling abilities had improved in spades from the first time Katara had witnessed him trying to negotiate with a pirate. Skills improved, he still brought just as much enthusiasm to it now as he ever did.

Katara found it pretty ironic, that for a guy who put so little stock in “worldly possessions”, the act of bartering brought him such great joy. Truthfully, Aang really did care little for “possessions” – he didn’t own a lot of things, keeping his life almost monastically lean. But there was something about the act of haggling -- the game and theatrics involved in getting the best price -- that would bring out the shrewdest of tradesmen in him.

Aang “talked price” in a way that was so obviously airbender. The way he and the vendor would flit from topic to topic, bantering good-naturedly, talking about seemingly unrelated topics that would then circle around to either drive up or down the price. The way he would feign interest in another item at the stall to, in a round about way, pull down the cost of the original. Or even walking away to examine another vendor’s wares to then be called back by the first seller, who suddenly appeared more willing to part with a product he earlier claimed he couldn’t bear to part with. Aang’s tactics weren’t as directionless as they might appear from the outside; he knew the price he planned to end at, he just employed a lot of weaving and schmoozing and crafting in the getting there. It was rarely strait forward and involved a lot of dramatics, but in the end, almost always, Aang walked away with what he wanted and for a price few others could hustle.

It was not uncommon for Aang to spend forty minutes or more wrangling price with a vendor at a bazaar, only to turn around and give whatever he had bought away without thought. “It’s the quest, Katara! Not the prize…”

Since Aang rarely shopped for himself, he was notorious for offering his “skills” to others, to spend their money for them. “Oh, Suki… I saw you looking at that saber over there. Want me to negotiate a good price for you?!” “Hey Sokka, I see that bag does look great with your new boots, but don’t buy it unless they throw in the belt for free!” “Toph, let me help you out here. I’m sure I can find something here for better quality and half the price!”

It was not unknown for him to approach perfect strangers in an effort to keep them from paying too much. “What’s the problem, Katara?! That peddler was clearly gouging that guy! I’m pretty sure it’s part of my duty as the Avatar to keep people from getting ripped off!” “Sure, sure, Aang,” she’d placate him as she’d steer him away from other people’s shopping business.

The glow on Aang’s face after cutting a great deal was almost Avatar State-esk – a wide toothy smile, self-satisfied smugness, lots of backslapping and handshaking post-haggle with any truly artful hawker. Katara found it hard to hold back a laugh with how truly pleased her boyfriend got after “whittling a great bargain”: chest puffed up, arms swinging proudly as he would recount the play-by-play of the exchange, his footsteps barely touching the ground.

Aang claimed that he had learned from the best. “Monk Gyatso didn’t love things, but boy did he love the process of bargaining for things! And no one was better at it, Katara! Monk Gyatso was a real master of the art. Wish you could have seen him in the zone!”

A nostalgic, far away look coming to Aang’s smiling eyes, “Did I ever tell you about the time Gyatso traded his glider for a couple of hopping lamas? Well he bought them from a one-legged butcher who thought Gyatso’s glider staff would make a perfect crutch. Well Gyatso took the lamas and sold them in the next town over to a soybean farmer for twenty whole silver pieces! The farmer’s fields had gotten infested with chokeweeds (and everyone knows hopping lamas LOVE to eat chokeweeds!). The farmer was so happy he gave Gyatso a big batch of his fresh made Tofu as a bonus!

“Well Gyatso took the twenty silver pieces to the local carpenter and bought a mahogany peg-leg (complete with a built in boot) which he took back to the one-legged butcher to trade for his glider back. The butcher was super happy! Gyatso gave him some of the tofu too (with a suggestion that it made an excellent substitute for meat). Not only did Gyatso save two hopping lamas from certain death, get a big basket of fresh tofu, AND help out a cripple, he did it all without loosing a shilling!

“But that was just the beginning! Gyatso took the tofu to the All-Nomad Airball Tournament and gave it to Cook Lhakyi to add to the pre-games feast. Gyatso knew that Monk Sangyal, one of the Head Monks from the Northern Air Temple, had a thing for tofu, but he also knew it gave him some serious gas. You see, Monk Sangyal was scheduled to referee the match between the Southern and Northern Air Temples, but we all knew he never called a fair game for the South. But once he’d loaded up on tofu, let me tell you there was NO WAY Monk Sangyal could stay in his seat when he was gassy – we’re talking shooting ten feet in the air every time he, you know, uh, broke wind… so he had no choice but to bow out of that match as referee, which left Monk Dhondup as the backup referee (and he was always more fair). PLUS with Monk Dhondup refereeing, it freed up his front row seat for Gyatso, which is what Gyatso wanted all along! PRIME spot to watch the championship tournament, which was why he went to the market to buy the lamas in the first place! I tell you, the man was a haggling Master…”

Occasionally Aang would get so caught up in nattering a deal, however, that he would completely loose track of his larger goal. Once at the end of shopping for traveling supplies (and taking way too long to do it in Katara’s opinion) Aang proudly held up what looked like a pair of pirate eye patches he had just spent the last twenty minutes negotiating for. “Look what I got, Katara! I really walked away with a steal for these! Not only did I get a great price, but I got the guy to throw in the second one free of charge!”

“What are you going to do with one eye patch, Aang? Let alone two!” Katara asked in exasperation.

Sokka joined in, “Yeah, wouldn’t two eye patches kind of defeat the purpose? I mean, if you need patches for BOTH eyes, why not just wear some dark glasses?”

“Or go all natur-al – like me,” Toph added pointing a confident thumb to her blind eyes.

Aang’s posture deflated as he looked down at the patches in his hands. “I guess I just got a little caught up in the moment…” he admitted.

“No point in being a cheapskate chaffer if you end up buying useless junk, Twinkletoes.”

But Katara had laughed out loud a moment later when she turned to see Aang and Momo both wearing matching eye patches and chittering out of the sides of their mouths like pirates together. Katara was beginning to think that it wouldn’t matter how much older Aang got, he was likely to be a kid-at-heart forever.

And admittedly, she loved him all the more for it.

But when the two decided to get married, and it came time to negotiate the bride-price, Katara began to dread Aang’s affinity for haggling with a new kind of apprehension.

Honestly, the fact that paying for a bride was still a tradition at all in her village rankled her. But it was common practice in both Water Tribes for the prospective groom to pay a bride-price to the woman’s family upon engagement.

“It’s archaic, Dad!” Katara had argued heatedly. “Not to mention humiliating! To be… bought… like a good canoe or a new polar-bear dog saddle?! Its completely demeaning.”

But Katara’s Gran Gran had stepped in and put her foot down, “It is tradition! Tradition as old as memory in our culture. Paying the bride-price is a covenant that helps to solidify a marriage union, to make it a promise between more than just a man and his wife, but between the couple and their tribe. And you will not rewrite thousands of years of history in one fell swoop, Katara!”

And so the couple had begrudgingly agreed to go through the motions of negotiating the bride-price, which was done in a sort of ceremony, in front of the whole tribe.

………

The sun was just setting over the horizon as the tribes people gathered in the large rounded gathering hall for the negotiation. Given the high profile of who was getting engaged tonight, the turn out had been nearly comprehensive – most of the village’s families were in attendance to Witness. The tribes people sat close together, shoulder to shoulder with their children on their laps, all straining to see and hear the impending negotiations. The prospective bride and groom would enter last.

Aang flew in on Appa just a few minutes before the negotiation was scheduled to begin, giving the couple little time to talk before it all began.

As the two entered the assembly chamber Katara grabbed Aang’s elbow whispering in exasperation, “Cut it a little close, didn’t you Aang?!”

Aang shifted the knapsack on his shoulder and kissed her forehead in apology, “Sorry! I got held up gathering… well never mind. I’ll tell you later.”

As the two entered the packed room, the chatter quieted down, all eyes on them. Chief Hakoda sat on a mat to the east of a fire in the center of the room; Gran Gran knelt by his side on the south. Katara looked at the empty place by Hakoda’s side, knowing that if Sokka weren’t at Kyoshi Island today he would be sitting with their father. For a fleeting moment, she missed her brother terribly; feeling that somehow if he were here then perhaps he could help diffuse this feeling of dread in her chest.

Aang was directed to sit on a mat directly across the center fire from Chief Hakoda. Katara knelt down next to her Grandmother; Kanna reaching out a withered old hand and gripping Katara’s hand in hers. “It will all be okay, my little Snowflake,” Gran Gran whispered.

But Katara was not feeling like it would be okay. Her stomach clenched in nervous dread. She had no idea what to expect from tonight. Traditionally, a bride price would be paid in trade: a good pair of sled dog-foxes, or a two-week supply of tiger-seal meat, perhaps a leather handled hunting spear thrown in for finesse. However, with the end of the war, and the prosperity and commerce that had returned to the South Pole, money exchanges had become more common. And given that Katara’s father was the Chief (and Aang unlikely to pay in meat), a money price would be the most likely exchange.

To date, the prices in coin generally ranged from twenty to thirty gold pieces, although last month a man from the North had paid the unheard of price of forty-five gold pieces to secure the hand of a girl from Katara’s tribe!

Katara looked over at Aang and groaned. He didn’t look at her, his face serious in the flickering firelight as he regarded her Father. She thought she could see his brain figuratively warming up for the negotiations ahead; preparing for the haggle of a lifetime! She had to look away.

Katara imagined Aang driving such a hard bargain that he would manage to buy her hand in marriage for a warm winter blanket. Inexplicably the thought made her chin tremble as she bit back tears of shame. This whole thing was so humiliating!

Katara knew that these events were anything but quick. Sometimes, when an agreement could not be decided upon right away, they would retire and continue the negotiations the following evening. Katara sighed thinking of Aang’s incredible bargaining stamina, and wondered how many days this would take. As the ceremony began, she tried to prepare herself for a long night…

A large basin of water and a small ceramic jug were brought in and set on the floor opposite the fire from Katara and her Grandmother. Aang and Hakoda both dipped their hands in the water: the washing of hands symbolizing the washing away of any past ills between them. Then both drank from the jug, first Hakoda, then Aang, as a promise to bring no deceit to their bargain and as a show of goodwill between the two parties.

Hakoda cleared his throat, preparing to recite the traditional opening words. He spoke as much to the gathered tribe as to the man seated across from him, “Avatar Aang, what brings you to sit at the fire with me this night?”

Aang responded also from rote, “Chief Hakoda, I sit with you this night to ask for the honor of marrying your daughter,” Aang’s silver eyes caught hers for a moment, “the esteemed Master Katara.”

Everyone there knew of their history. How she had left the village to rescue the Avatar, had helped to teach him to waterbend, had fought with him to end the Hundred Year War, and how they had fallen in love in the process. The two had been a couple for years now, this moment coming as a surprise to no one. But tradition called for certain sentiments to be expressed regardless.

Hakoda spoke up boldly: “Katara is my only daughter, my strength and support, my one great reminder of her mother who I loved with all of my heart. To part with her would be to loose a piece of my own soul. What merits do you claim, Avatar Aang, to be worthy of the hand of my daughter?”

Although she knew this type of speech was all part of tradition, Katara was nonetheless moved by the genuine emotion behind her father’s words. Back strait and tall, Hakoda sat with the confidence of a proven chief. But even with his chin held high, Katara could see that his eyes were soft, even a little sad.

This tradition was part of protecting his daughter, of ensuring that she would be cared for. Although she still did not like the idea of a bride-price, Katara began to appreciate the value in the ceremony. For her Father’s heart, if for nothing else.

All eyes now turned to the Avatar. It was his turn to respond. To build himself up, to lay out the many reasons that he could and would be a suitable match for Katara. To prove that he was powerful enough, capable enough, to protect her and provide for her needs.

But Aang said nothing.

Katara’s eyes darted to his face as he stared into the flickering fire, trying to read his expression, to understand the unexpected pain behind his furrowed brow.

She was fairly well acquainted with Aang’s griefs, and she had a pretty good idea what kind of insecurities he was wrestling with right now. She knew that he worried for her safety, that he worried that somehow her affiliation with him might put her in danger. Aang had worked hard to forgive himself for running away before the war, knowing that he had been just a child, afraid and lonely. But the knowledge that whether he had run away or not, he was the reason his people were massacred, plagued him. As much as she tried to reassure him otherwise, he worried that she would somehow be the same. His anxieties had gotten so bad a couple of years ago that he had even tried to cut ties with her; to break up in a half-baked attempt to keep her safe. Of course she hadn’t bought it, and truthfully he hadn’t really wanted her to, but it had dug up some intense buried pains for both of them. Sometimes she wondered if he would ever be free of his twin demons: grief and guilt.

After an uncomfortable silence Hakoda cleared his throat and asked again, this time his voice a bit softer, “Aang, what makes you worthy of my daughter?”

Aang looked up, locking eyes with Hakoda, and spoke quietly, “I’m not.”

Hands covered mouths as whispers were exchanged among the Witnesses, an audible murmur rippling around the room. Katara was sure she could hear her brother slap his forehead in exasperation all the way from Kyoshi Island!

“Aang…” Katara started to speak, but was silenced by her Gran Gran’s firm hand on her own. Of all the times to leave your Air Nomad humility behind, Aang, it would be now! Be Water Tribe and proudly proclaim who I know you are!

“I am not worthy of Katara,” -- another murmur rippling through the crowd -- “But I will do everything in my power to keep her safe and to make her happy. She means everything to me…” Then sitting up straighter, he added with conviction, “And there is no one who would love her more than I do.”

Although this was a discussion of marriage, it was strangely taboo for declarations of love to be expressed. This event was more about practicality than sentiment. Katara could see some people shifting uncomfortably in their seats.

Even though it was supposed to be Aang trying to convince Hakoda of his merits, Hakoda spoke up for his soon to be son-in-law, helping him to save face in front of the Tribe. “I know, Aang. I do not doubt either you capabilities nor your motives.”

As though worried that Aang might declare his adorations again, Hakoda quickly pushed forward the process. “As you know my daughter is dear to me, and her leaving my household will be a great loss to us all. In a demonstration of your capabilities to care for my daughter, and as a small way to alleviate our disadvantage at her loss, I propose that we agree to seventy-five gold pieces as a bride-price for your engagement to Katara.”

There was a loud buzz of surprise from the onlookers. Seventy-five gold pieces?! Starting a negotiation this high was unheard of! Katara looked at her father in surprise. Why?

The noise grew steadily until the tribe members shushed one another loudly to hear the Avatar’s response.

Katara knew this was when the counter offers would begin. Somewhere well below the first offer but with room to go up in price as the two parties would parry back and forth until landing somewhere in the middle.

“Chief Hakoda,” Aang began, his voice carrying throughout the room, “No, I couldn’t pay seventy-five gold pieces…”

Katara’s forgotten embarrassment returned as she looked down to her lap, remembering why they were here, waiting for “Aang the Haggler” to begin bargaining in earnest.

“… I simply could not feel right about paying any less than five hundred gold pieces.”

There was a collective gasp from the room… before it exploded in noise!

Some people got to their feet, some yelling out, still others sat in astonishment, mouths hanging open stupidly. Cries of “Has he lost his head!?” and “Clearly this foreigner does not understand!” and “FIVE-HUNDRED GOLD PIECES?!” could be heard.

Hakoda himself sat back in silent bewilderment.

Katara, finally overcoming her own shock, hissed at Aang, “Do you even HAVE five hundred gold pieces?!?” before her Gran Gran slapped her hand again with a “Hush!” and “It is not your place to speak in this!”

Aang, face stoic, (although the edge of his mouth showing the slightest hint of a grin) looked at Katara and nodded, almost imperceptibly. Then, reaching into the rucksack at his side, he pulled out two full drawstring pouches, and set them before Hakoda with a heavy jangle.

Hakoda looked down at the bags in silence, then up at Aang like he would protest, but couldn’t seem to find his voice. Aang sat at the ready, as though prepared to offer more. Surely this was the strangest bargaining in the grand history of bride-price talks! This night was destined to go down in tribal history: a story to be told, and retold, for generations to come!

Aang spoke again, “No amount of money or treasure could ever compare with the privilege of spending my life with Katara. No matter the agreed upon price, I will forever be in your debt. But I hope you will accept my offer -- but a fraction of what I wish it was -- that I may receive your blessing and permission to take your incredible daughter, Katara, as my wife. I promise to honor her, and respect her, and to cherish her with all that I am until my soul moves on from this life to my next.”

The room was still loud and chaotic as Hakoda, his voice seemingly still unrecovered, looked back down at the bulging coin bags in a stupor. Then nodded once. Twice.

And that was that.

Technically, the bride-price was agreed and the engagement was official. Too bad there was too much disbelief and chaos in the room for the usual congratulations to be extended.

Gran Gran pulled on Katara’s elbow, leaning into her with a husky laugh, “One thing I like about your Airbender, Katara – he never ceases to surprise me!”

Katara couldn’t agree more.

……..

Having received Hakoda’s nod of approval, Aang wasted no time in grabbing Katara by the hand and pulling her out of the hubbub of the still startled and excited crowd. Running and giggling the two stole out into the chill night, only slowing once the din from the assembly hall became but a distant hum.

The moon shone her beautiful beaming face brightly upon them, as though sending her congratulations. They listened to the music of the back and forth of the waves on the icy shore. For a time they just walked in silence, holding hands and bumping shoulders, smiling widely. The glances they shared were, for some reason, unexplainably coy, like their new official change in relationship status hadn’t had time to feel real yet.

At long last, Katara broke the silence with a tease, “Not your most impressive performance as a haggler back there, Aang.”

Aang, unable to hold back his radiant smile, looked down and laughed. “Ah, but even a good haggler would never low-ball a truly fine treasure when he finds it. I could never insult your Father with an offer so far below its worth.”

Unable to hold back her smile, Katara raised a flirtatious eyebrow at him, “Oh yeah?” She couldn’t help but feel important, and so, so loved. Contrasted with the humiliation she had felt earlier at the idea of being bargained for, the difference was stark.

“Yeah.” Aang sighed with a dopy grin as he pulled her close, wrapping his arms tightly around her waist. “Besides,” he began, his mouth close to hers, his breath coming in warm puffs on her lips, drawing her own mouth to tilt upward seeking his.

“I still walked away with a steal!”

……………

A/N: I must admit that I based some of this on my own love of haggling =) So… how much for a review, eh? ;) ;)

#alta #aang #avatar aang #katara #kataang #avatar the last airbender

302 notes · View notes

fizzingwizard · 4 years

Text

Digimon Adventure: Ep 19!

Wow! That certainly was an Episode!! It was pretty fun from start to finish, though nothing mind-blowing, but it was definitely the ending that made me gasp. Not wholly unexpected to an old turnip like me, but promising lots of fun (and angst!).

Picture of the week: MIKO, THE TRUE STAR OF THE SERIES!!

no for serious are the writers reading my reviews? they keep giving me what I want. within reason I guess. They seem to have an extremely limited budget as usual x’D

but Miko is still adorbs

ok I’m really looking forward to recapping this one so let’s get to it!

So last week I thought the kids sans Taichi and Yamato were abducted by Devimon, but apparently that either isn’t the case, or it was, but then Devimon decided it’s best just to dump the kids back on Earth and hold on to their partners. Because that’s the current situation. While concerning that the kids are separated from their partners, it’s probably best this way, since Devimon appears to be sending Gesomon(?) and Parrotmon(?)

to the human world, if I remember right. It’s hard to remember what happened in the first fifteen seconds kay So when the kids find their partners it will probably be in the human world and they can fight back.

Meanwhile Taichi and Yamato are alone and very Confuse

Taichi tries frantically to contact Koushirou. The others too... but especially Koushirou.

Finally he gets him!! He’s so happy!! My Taishiro heart flutters!

But I was fully expecting it to be a trap. When I saw this still here, my first thought was “Devimon’s forcing him to tell Taichi a lie by threatening him with a gun!!”

of course thats not whats happening. Koushirou is relatively fine and there are no guns (yet). What’s happened is the other kids have been sent back to the human world for reals this time!

This show is not even bothering to hide its Taiyama angle.

They spend the entire episode giving each other Significant Looks like this. The entire episode.

Now where’s Jou through all of this, you ask?

He went to talk to the police. He’s shocked they don’t believe his story about monster attacks and the world ending (well, at least Tokyo ending). I freaking love how taaaaall Jou is. Though it makes Koushirou look like a bean x’D

Jou = beansprout / Koushirou = bean

Koushirou has a much easier time dealing with the news that the police don’t believe them. He’s a denizen of the Internet. He knows how people’s minds work. And he has tons of chat logs to prove it.

People are chatting and spreading gossip and disbelief and complaints, but my favorite is the comment that just says “It’s a flood of fake news” xP

The home team runs into Mama Yagami! Who Sora literally calls Mama Yagami! x’D I mean I know that’s how kids generally refer to their friends’ parents but I still lol’d.

So un... Jou is almost as tall as Mama Yagami. LMAO. I’m gonna assume she’s short. Jou might indeed be quite tall for his age but Sora and Mimi are pretty close to Mama Yagami’s height too. I guess we haven’t seen Taichi standing next to his mom yet! With his hair he’s probably taller than her.

So Mama Yagami is HILARIOUS and I’m so glad that’s a continuing thing in the reboot! She was already that way in 99 Adventure, but we’re just seeing a lot of it now - like every time she’s around. (And we didn’t see it in Tri so I missed that.) Basically she seems like a basketcase. Not a totally irresponsible one, more like just... generally the carefree go with the flow type. Which is not bad. She just also seems a bit, uh, ditzy?? I think Taichi probably grew to be so serious by necessity. Dad’s busy with work and someone’s gotta make sure mom doesn’t leave the house without her keys!

The way Sora just stares at Hikari like “explain??” after Mama Yagami thrusts Miko at her and runs off to get her car with a big smile as if they hadn’t all nearly died recently... bahahaha.

also I love how she doesn’t even bother asking her son’s good friend if she knows where he is after not seeing or hearing from him for three full days

^The face of a boy shouldering the weight of nuclear family life and all its batshitness

Taichi and Yamato determine their priority is find the Holy Digimon. I wish they were a little more concerned with what happened to their friends’ partners, but I guess this is the only goal with solid clues. Anyway before they can do anything they are attacked by Bulbmon Looks like subtitlers went with Valvemon which also works, who looks like a Lego monster creation by an eight year old (and probably is).

He has the Domo face. Grrraaah

Domo is NHK mascot by the way. bahahaha

Next these guys come swarming out of Valvemon. (And if we didn’t already get it, apparently Digimon can construct other Digimon as we’ve seen before.) Nothing is quite as freaky as gas masks. They are commanded by Minotaurmon/Mintaromon whatever.

They too have the aim of Stormtroopers though so our heroes will be fine...

... probably...

... then Leomon finally shows up!! Yay! He looks good! All beefy and scarred and sounding exactly like Zaraki Kenpachi. Uhh. Is it the same VA?? Nothing comes up in the Google search so maybe not but it sure sounds like him. (Minotaurmon and Ogremon also sound like Leomon... while it’s normal for VAs in kids shows to voice multiple characters esp minor ones, it literally sounds like Zaraki Kenpachi is the voice of all the characters in this episode besides the main ones. And Mama Yagami of course because that would be weird.)

Leomon may look cool, but his ride... and his friends... uh, less cool x’D I want to strangle that ostrich thing with its own scarf somehow it inspires violent emotion in me

In the smallest, most shocked voice, Yamato says, “Leomon...?” It’s honestly kind of adorable. He’s clearly remembering what Neemon said about Leomon leading the resistance way back when.

Leomon helps them escape. Taichi very considerately and cutely helps Agumon aboard the fashion disaster ostrich emu thing.

Yamato also considerately helps his partner but rather less cutely xD

Leomon takes them to his hideout and gives them your standard fare of weird-looking Digi fruit. He then proceeds to tell them about Devimon and that he is trying to infiltrate Valvemon yadda yadda.

Taichi is freaking ADORABLE, immediately concerned that by saving their asses, Leomon’s battle plans have been ruined. Leomon waves that aside though. Yamato is equally adorabibble when he asks after Neemon and gets told that they made it to Leomon safely.

Leomon plans to try to get into Valvemon again because he knows Devimon’s put something related to the holy Digimon in there. Taichi is determined to join in. He doesn’t have much of an argument as it why they should be allowed when they just got their butts kicked so easily, but he has a trick up his sleeve: the Burning Eyes of Fiery Passion.

Not to be outdone, Yamato shoots off his Icy Eyes of Cold Determination.

Faced with this twin assault, Leomon has to give in. Ahh, I remember last week when we saw the trailer for this ep and I naively thought Leomon would train them like Piximon did in 99 Adventure. Nope. They’ve just met and they’re already spy buddies.

Okay, okay, yeah Leomon does seem to have some knowledge of the “Chosen Children” and that’s his real motivation. Still.

They break into Valvemon and we get the excellent invention of Agumon riding on Garurumon. I assume because of Garurumon’s advantageous speed. That seems to be recurring thing in this show.

Idk I just capped this because he’s so darn cute

I don’t know why I capped this one though.

They enter some sort of central space where Leomon tells them something relevant to the holy Digimon is being kept. (Lol I already forgot the details of what he said.) There are two protectors, Minotaurmon and Bullmon. Leomon tells the kids to take Bullmon while he faces down Minotaurmon. These guys might have been somewhat intimidating if we hadn’t already got Perfect level evolutions mastered, not to mention the occasional Jogress :P Sooo I didn’t feel too worried.

... uh, never mind x’D Taichi what are you doing

Yamato saves his idiot butt and almost gets in a bind himself. Once again I’m just wondering why they are sticking at Adult level. Whatever. They win of course

Leomon uses his Fist of the Beast King to maim Minotaurmon. His brilliant one-liner? “I have more than one first.”

Bully: *punches you*

You: ow

Bully: *smirk* I have more than one fist.

You: That’s funny, I only have one, but it’s made of titanium *You punch the bully straight through the stratosphere* Quality over quantity!!!!

*cough*

Our heroes approach the secret compartment supposedly holding something to do with the holy Digimon... Yamato gets a look inside and gets the black shadow of true terror over his eyes

becaue floating inside like some kind of Weapon X experiment is... Takeru!!!

Hold on while I put in my ear plugs. Okay, ready, screech all you want now.

EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!

So... okay. First of all, baby Takeru is sooooooo cute <3 I had two predictions about what happened to Takeru last week. Either he ended up in the digital world and was now on his own, or he got abducted by Devimon. I thought the former was more likely, but in hindsight, it should have been obvious that it was the second. This show misses a lot of points where I feel like they could have developed some relationships or thrown in some drama, but it never passes up a chance for Yamato angst.

So yeah, this is pretty much gonna destroy Yamato xD Not only is the baby brother he wanted to protect no longer at home where he can easily protect him, he’s now in the digital world and in the enemy’s clutches.

I BETTER SEE REALLY TRAUMATIZED YAMATO NEXT WEEK. Of course, I expect him to be cool-headed enough to try to save Takeru, but I will be very disappoint if this goes off with no break downs at all. Takeru is always Yamato’s number one priority!

Super exciteddddd

So I give this ep 7.5/10. The .5 is pretty much for ending with a killer cliffhanger. My one real complaint about this ep is how highly plot-based everything is - we finally got the team all together only to split them up, and on top of that, once split up, we don’t even get all that many character moments between Taichi and Yamato. As I said, they give each other lots of Signifcant Looks, but man cannot live on bread alone. However this is par for the course for this show and I know I should stop mentioning it every week because I doubt it’s changing. We will get the big shockers when we get them and not a moment before.

I just want Yamato to cry in front of Taichi and make him all uncomfortable x’D That’s what made 99 Adventure so great bahahaha

Some cool bits from next week’s trailer:

Surprise surprise, Angemon is the holy Digimon! Or one of, anyway. And he is indeed trapped. This makes the “Angemon is Devimon” theory less likely. Let’s not forget that our heroes’ Digimon partners were evidently a band of powerful warriors in the past, but they’ve forgotten much of it. I won’t be surprised if the result of that war played a part in Angemon’s abduction.

Next week they’ll have to fight to save Takeru from being drained, I guess.

And then!! Digi egg! Excite. Also I only just noticed that his hate says TK!!!

Takeruuu <3 My first fav when I was 10. Though my heart has belonged to Taichi for many long years, I still have a special spot in it for Takeru only <3 Even if he does dress like a celery stick

#digimon adventure 2020 #digimon adventure:#digimon adventure reboot #digi spoilers #digimon #fizz watches digimon 2020 #i made edits lets see if they save for once...

32 notes · View notes