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secretariatess · 4 months

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The Milkmaids and the Partridge

So, because I usually write other world fantasy, where Christmas doesn't actually exist. So writing a fantasy Christmas story for me . . . wouldn't be undoable, I guess, but it would take a lot more work than I wanted to put in.

So the theme was "Twelve Days of Christmas," which is meant of the literal days of Christmas and not the song. But I'm being very loose with all of this and using inspiration from the song, and inspiration from the real Christmas story.

It's more of a fairy tale than anything, so hopefully it's enjoyable despite my liberties, lol. It's under 5k words (which is surprising for me!)

For the Christmas Inklings Challenge, @inklings-challenge

Once upon a time, in the Realm of the Ten Lords, there was a humble dairy farm on the outskirts of the town. This dairy farm, known to most as the Starry Night Farm due to its uniquely painted barn, was owned and run by eight milkmaids. These milkmaids were not sisters by blood, but considered themselves such all the same because of how close they got over the years. The start of their friendship is truly an interesting story, but it is not the story right now.

These milkmaids all lived in the space over the barn. It was not a very large space, as they did not have many cows, but it kept them warm and provided beds for them, so they were quite content with their lives. Their cows produced some of the finest milk in all the realm, and so they had met many a traveler seeking to taste the milk.

Now one of their duties was to make sure their pastures were fit for their cows. A good pasture led to happy, healthy cows, and that was part of their secret for their milk. The milkmaids took this task very seriously and always kept a sharp eye out for anything that might pose a danger to the cows.

It was one morning that Spirit, for that was the name of one of the milkmaids, noticed that there was a patch of foxtail growing in the corner of the pasture. Now see, foxtail was not very good for cows, as the spikelets of the foxtail could get into the noses and ears of cows and cause great harm. Spirit promptly got rid of it and thought that that was the end of it.

The next day, Comfort, another milkmaid, saw foxtail growing in the corner of the pasture, and she took care of it before any of the cows wandered over. Like Spirit, she thought that was the end of it. But the next day, and the day after that, all the milkmaids had encountered the foxtail, each believing that they were responsible for getting rid of it and not realizing that their fellow milkmaids had done the same thing.

It was not until Spirit saw the foxtail again, and this time, there was more of it. She said to her fellow milkmaids, “Dear sisters, see here- I have removed this foxtail but a little over a week ago and it has returned in a larger bunch.”

“You have removed it?” said Meek, another milkmaid who was normally quiet. “Why, I have removed it myself only a week past! It has returned already?”

“That is quite odd,” said Suffered, yet another one of the milkmaids. “For it twas only yesterday that I removed a patch of foxtail.”

It was then discovered that all of the milkmaids had removed a patch of foxtail. The rate of its growth alarmed them.

“Dear sisters, what should we do?” asked Patience, wringing her hands. “If it will only come back, and in larger amounts, removing it will get us nowhere!”

“Come now,” chided Righteous gently. “There is no use getting in a tizzy just yet. We will ask the Nine Ladies for their wisdom about what we should do.”

It was a very good idea, and the milkmaids agreed to trek into town at the end of the week. The Nine Ladies were fond of dancing, and held a dance every end of the week. They were married to the Ten Lords, save one. This Lord fancied his leaping, as the rest of the Lords were, but thought that getting married would only tie him down. He wanted to spend as many years as he could to leap as high as he could before he settled down and got married.

It was a jolly sight when they arrived. Half the townsfolk had arrived to participate in the dance, and the music was merry. For those who were not as nimble on their feet, or perhaps were recovering from having partners who were not as nimble on their feet, there was a large banquet set up for them to enjoy, courtesy of the Nine Ladies.

The milkmaids approached the table of the Nine Ladies, who were resting after spending only a few hours on the dance floor, and curtsied low to them, as one does to show respect to a noble. In truth, the milkmaids were not used to curtsying as they spent much of their time with their cows, and one does not curtsy to a cow. Because of this one or two of them thought they would tip over before they could straighten. Fortunately, they did not.

“Oh great Ladies of the Realm,” said Pure, rising up from her curtsy and clasping her hands together as though she were praying. “We have come to implore you for your wisdom, as we are faced with a terrible problem and do not know how to get rid of it.”

“Speak girls,” said the Lady in the middle, whose cheeks were red and jolly, “and tell us what your problem is that we may help you.”

“Great Ladies of the Realm,” said Pure again, addressing them so that she may not be seen as rude, “we discovered a patch of foxtail growing in our pasture a little over a week ago. It was not too much of an issue for us, but we found out that it was growing every day, and recently we discovered that it has come back nearly twice the size. It is not good for our cows, and we are concerned about the damage it will cause them. What should we do about this foxtail that will not go away?”

“Oh, fear not!” said the Lady at the end on the right. “That is an easy enough fix. What you need is a partridge.”

“A partridge?” repeated Pure. She remembered her manners and quickly added, “Oh Great Lady?”

The Lady at the end on the left nodded cheerfully. “Truly! That is all you need. There is a partridge in the Garden of the Eleven Pipers- if you go to her, you may be able to persuade her to return with you. When she does, she will eat your foxtail, for that is what partridges like.”

The milkmaids all curtsied low at this advice.

“Great Ladies of the Realm, we thank you for your help,” said Pure. “We shall be ever grateful.”

“Now, now,” the Lady to the left of the Lady in the middle, “rise up and smile. Perhaps you will join us for some time in this dance!”

The milkmaids did as the Lady requested, and danced for joy at the solution to their problem. When they returned that night, for they spent many hours dancing, they prepared themselves for the journey to the Garden of the Eleven Pipers and put away their cows with a lot of hay to ensure their happiness.

The Garden of the Eleven Pipers was on the other side and would take a few days worth of travel to get there. The milkmaids had never been there themselves, but they had met people who had, and they were told it was a wonderful place. So they were excited to see its wonder and bring back the partridge. It was agreed to take a sack of seeds with them to present to the partridge in order to persuade her to return with them.

In the morning, they set off, singing to each other all sorts of joyous songs.

As they journeyed on, they came upon the Great Horned Owl.

The Great Horned Owl was sleeping, and was not happy with being disturbed from his slumber by their joyful singing. He settled on the side of the path, peering at them blearily with narrowed eyes as he tried to make them out.

“Too-hoo! What is this to-do?” he hooted, blinking slowly. The daylight bothered his eyes so.

“We are going to the Garden of the Eleven Pipers,” said Peace, stepping forward.

“The Garden of the Eleven Pipers?” hooted the Owl. “Too-hoo! That is a long journey.”

“It is only a few days,” said Peace. “It is not too long for us.”

“Too-hoo! I see,” said the Owl. “Now why would eight young milkmaids be going to the Garden of Eleven Pipers for? Is this part of the Realm not satisfactory for you?” The Great Horned Owl was a nosy fellow, and had to know about people moving about where they usually did not go.

“We are going to find a partridge,” said Peace. She showed him the basket they prepared for the partridge. The milkmaids had agreed that it would be much more comfortable for the partridge to sit in a cushioned basket than to be carried by their arms or walk the whole way back to the Starry Night Farm.

“A partridge? Too-hoo! What an odd thing to look for,” said the Owl.

“We need the partridge to help us with the foxtail in our farm,” said Peace. “It is growing at an alarming rate, and the Nine Ladies told us that a partridge will eat the foxtail.”

“Too-hoo! Is that true?” said the Owl. But the Owl was jealous. He prided himself with helping all who came across his path with his wide range of knowledge, and he did not like the idea of the milkmaids seeking help from another bird. Why wouldn’t the Nine Ladies send them to him? He could have figured out a solution to their problem.

“It is true!” confirmed Peace.

“Well then, too-hoo!” said the Owl, devising a plan. “When you come back, why don’t you show me the partridge before going back to the farm? I have some foxtail myself that I would like to get rid of. If this partridge can do it, than I would like to have some of her time.”

The milkmaids agreed, because they did not know that the Owl was scheming. He did not have any foxtail that was growing anywhere, so he certainly did not need the partridge for that. He instead hoped to eat the partridge whole, so he could remain the only bird to whom the humans asked for help. But the milkmaids could not have known this, for he was very convincing.

So they continued on their way. After a few days, they stood at the entrance of the Garden of the Eleven Pipers. No one really saw the Pipers at work in the Garden, but they knew they were there, somewhere among the plants and trees the Pipers grew. The Garden was enormous, and the Pipers allowed anyone in to come and rest, and to eat the fruit and vegetables of their garden. It was a refuge for many creatures and people without any other place to go.

But because it was so large, the milkmaids realized that it would take them quite a while to find the partridge. They wandered here and there, stepping around the carrot patches and the tomato plants, twisting their way around the apple trees and blueberry bushes, until they came upon a sparkling creek winding around the orange trees. In this creek were seven beautiful swans, swimming about and coming together to share some exciting information before drifting apart again to think of something else that had happened to them that week.

The milkmaids quietly approached, not wanting to startle the swans.

One of them took noticed and let out a welcoming honk. “Welcome, welcome! Now, what brings the eight of you lovely milkmaids here?” cried one of the swans.

“We are looking for a partridge,” said Meek, stepping in front of the other milkmaids. “We were told by the Nine Ladies that we could find her here, but we do not know where to look for her.”

“Oh, the partridge!” exclaimed the swan. “Oh yes, we know the partridge. She joins us for our weddings and birthdays, you know.”

“And when we have feasts!” piped another swan. “She is quite a lovely thing, and we certainly enjoy her company.”

“Perhaps you could point us in the right direction?” asked Meek. “We are beginning to feel quite lost.”

“Oh, but of course!” said the second swan. “Now, if you go down that way, you should come out to some very lovely banana trees. There are usually some geese there who know just about everyone here in the Garden. They will tell you where the partridge likes to go.”

“Thank you very much!” said Meek, and she meant it. For it is not every day that one gets lost in a giant garden. The experience was quite overwhelming.

The milkmaids followed the swan’s advice, and sure enough, they came across some banana trees with six geese who had made themselves quite cozy at the root of the trees. Their nests were big enough to hold fully grown humans, and they were made with the softest, finest things that the geese could find. The geese were very particular about their nests, for once every week, they would lay one egg. And then on the seventh day, they would all rest and care for the egg they laid.

They were resting on this day, sitting happily on the eggs they laid and dreaming of the gooseling they would get to meet shortly.

When the milkmaids arrived, they lifted their heads contentedly.

“Excuse us, madams,” said Mercy, stepping forward this time. “Perhaps you could tell where we might find the partridge? We were told that you would know.”

“Why, of course dear!” said the first goose. Her voice was that that only a mother could have when talking tenderly to a child. “We know exactly where she is. She likes to roost among the pear trees.”

“Thank you, kind madams,” said Mercy, giving a little curtsy. She did not know if it was proper to do so, but it felt wrong to not do so. Her fellow milkmaids followed suit, giving the geese a respectful curtsy. “Perhaps you could tell us where the pear trees are? We are new to the Garden, and do not know our way around.”

“Oh, you poor dears,” fussed the second goose. “Wandering around the Garden, and no idea of how to get anywhere? It is a wonder you got this far then, I shouldn’t wonder. We would take you ourselves if it weren’t for the fact that we mustn’t leave these eggs alone. The Garden is safe, but it never hurts to be careful.”

“Well, I shan’t tell them to go alone,” said the third goose. “I would not want them to wander off and get lost again. Even with the best directions you can always take a wrong step, and next thing you know, you’re in the pumpkin patch!”

“No need to worry,” said the fourth goose calmly. “We shall send the calling birds with them. They will know where to go, and can stay with the girls so that they do not get lost. Now, you must wait for them,” she told the milkmaids sternly.

The milkmaids agreed and settled themselves by the geese while the fifth goose let out a loud honk to tell the calling birds to come to them. While they waited, the milkmaids told the geese of their mission, and the foxtail that was growing in their pasture. The geese sympathized with their plight and fussed over the long journey that the milkmaids had to take to get the Garden. The milkmaids let the geese fuss over them, for it was better to let the geese care for them and not to tell them that they did not need the care. As it was, it felt nice to be cared for. The geese made sure they still had enough food and water to continue on, and to make it back home.

The two calling birds arrived shortly after the geese confirmed that the milkmaids would be able to travel quite comfortably.

“Greetings!” said the first calling bird. “We heard that someone is in need of our service?”

“Yes, yes, these poor dears are looking for the partridge,” said the second goose. “They are quite lost, as it is their first time in the Garden. Would you be so kind as to escort them to the pear trees so that they do not get lost?”

“Most certainly!” said the second calling bird. He swept into a bow as only a bird could. “We can bring you straight to the partridge! However, we must tell you, that you will have to wait until nightfall to speak with her. For she is a very busy bird and does not come to rest until night.”

“We can most certainly wait,” assured Mercy, giving the calling birds a curtsy in turn. All this curtsying was making her legs tired. She was not used to having to do this.

“Right this way, then!” said the first calling bird. He took off from the branch where he had landed and swiftly wove between the trees. The second calling bird only took off when the milkmaids had started to follow, occasionally flying behind them or perching on their shoulder. The first calling bird stopped when he had gone far enough, making sure the milkmaids knew where to go. The second calling bird stayed with them to make sure they did not take a wrong turn and get lost. He also had a very good singing voice and knew a great deal of songs, many of which he taught the milkmaids as they made their way to the pear trees.

It was early evening when they arrived. The calling birds brought them directly to the pear tree where the partridge would rest. The milkmaids rested their weary legs underneath the tree. Even though they tried to maintain a conversation with the calling birds, they eventually became too tired and fell asleep.

They were awoken by a bright light from above them. Looking up as they rubbed the sleep from their eyes, they saw light from a very bright star as a partridge came to rest in the branches of the pear tree above them. She peered down at them curiously.

“It is not every night that I come to find visitors beneath my tree,” said the partridge. “What brings you here?”

“O Great Partridge,” said Comfort. She used such great titles because that is how one addresses the Ladies. And if this partridge was to save them from their foxtail problem, it was only logical to refer to her like this. “We have come to plead for your help. Our farm has a problem with foxtail- my sisters and I have all pulled it up, but it keeps returning. We were told by the Nine Ladies that you would be able to help us.”

Peace held up the offering of nuts. “We have brought you these as part of our request to come back with us,” said Peace. “If you do, we will be forever indebted to you, for the foxtail is harmful to our cows, and our cows are our livelihood.”

The partridge looked quite pleased with the request. But not a pleased where she looked proud, but rather a pleased that she was happy they had asked her. “Of course, daughters, I will come with you and take care of your foxtail. Now settle yourselves back to sleep so you are rested for the journey. In the morning, we shall head out.”

The milkmaids thanked her profusely and settled back into sleep.

In the morning, when they were still rising from their slumber and getting themselves ready to go, they were approached by three hens who prided themselves with knowing a language known as “French,” which was spoken in a realm very far from the Realm of the Ten Lords. Though there were some who suspected that the hens had just made up a language of gibberish and claimed that it was real to make themselves seem well educated, especially since they could not speak any known languages besides the common tongue.

But these hens were not here to boast of their language skills. Instead, they looked quite concerned. “Dear mademoiselles, you must not return the way you came,” they told the milkmaids.

“Why is that?” asked Suffered.

“We have it on good authority that the Great Horned Owl is expecting you,” they informed them. “But he is not looking to get rid of foxtail, as he had told you. He was sharing with some of his friends how much he was going to enjoy partridge for dinner someday. If you return the way you came and meet with the Great Horned Owl, he will surely eat the partridge.”

“Oh dear,” said Meek. “That is something that we cannot let happen! But then, how are we to return?”

“There is a hamlet of twelve drummers,” they told the milkmaids. “Up in the hills, south of the Garden. If you go to them, they will provide you a way home.”

The milkmaids thanked the hens for their advice. They tucked the partridge all nice and cozy in the basket they brought for her, supplying her with their offering of nuts. They then followed the hens’ advice and headed south out of the Garden.

It was a hard journey to the hamlet. It consisted only of twelve houses and one meeting house. Each building sat on a hill of its own, and each hill was steep. The drummers, who were not drummers by trade, would sit outside of their houses and drum with each other. They only left their hills when they had to go to the meeting house to discuss important things that oculd not be said yelling across the dips between hills.

When the milkmaids arrived, such an event demanded the use of the meeting house. The drummers saw them from a long way off and were waiting for them there already. The milkmaids collapsed on the ground, too tired from the journey to show proper decorum to the drummers. Tearfully, the milkmaids told the drummers of their plight. The drummers comforted them, telling them that they were safe. The drummers provided for them blankets and makeshift beds so they could sleep in the meeting house. Before bed, both the drummers and the milkmaids ate a lovely dinner of fruits, nuts, vegetables, and meat that each drummer harvested from his own hill. The partridge remained in her basket, happily observing the dining.

In the morning, the drummers came to the milkmaids. They presented them with five golden rings.

“These are magic rings,” said one of the drummers, who used congas. “We use them when we want to leave the hills. They will take you back to your home without the Great Horned Owl’s knowledge.”

The milkmaids thanked them as profusely as they thanked the hens. They all partnered with another of the milkmaids, with Pure carrying the basket with the partridge. One of the drummers, the one who played a timpani, accompanied them to show them how to use the rings and to take the rings back home after ensuring they got back safely.

When they arrived at the Starry Night Farm, the milkmaids further showed their gratitude by gifting the timpani drummer with twelve bottles of their finest milk.

They set the partridge amongst the foxtail, which had overtaken the whole pasture in their absence. The partridge immediately set to work, eating away at all the foxtail. When enough of it had been eaten, the milkmaids let the cows out, who had been safely shut away.

Unbeknownst to the milkmaids, the Great Horned Owl realized that they were not going to return the way they came. Enraged by their trickery, he himself flew to the Garden in hopes of finding the partridge. Not knowing what a partridge looked like, he made sure to eat all the quail and grouse who considered themselves safe in the Garden. When he realized that he still had not caught the partridge, he headed back to the Starry Night Farm to exact his revenge.

The milkmaids were out in the pasture tending to their cows when the Owl arrived. Talons spread, he swooped towards Spirit, who cried out in fear. Her fellow milkmaids rushed to save her, but it was the partridge who jumped out in front of Spirit.

The partridge fought fiercely, caring not that the Owl was bigger than her, nor that his talons were sharp and made to snatch her up. To the Owl’s great surprise, she was stronger than she appeared and above all, determined.

Just as the sun started to sink beneath the trees, the battle ended. The Owl dragged himself away from the site of the battle into the uneaten foxtail and died from his wounds.

The partridge remained where she was, beaten, bruised, and bloodied. The milkmaids rushed to her side to find that she was already dead.

The milkmaids wept bitterly, placing her in the basket that had been serving as her bed. They brought the basket into the barn where they mourned the whole night. Their tears exhausted them and they fell asleep around the basket.

Morning came and peered through the slats of the barns. The milkmaids blinked awake in its gaze. There, in the middle of the largest sunbeam, sat the partridge, alive and well! The milkmaids cried out in amazement and happiness.

“O Great Partridge!” gasped Righteous. “We thought you were surely gone! How joyous is it that you are not!”

“Death could not keep me, daughter, after such a sacrifice,” said the partridge. “I said I would take care of your foxtail, and I am not one to go back on my promises.”

With great rejoicing, the milkmaids returned the pasture with partridge. The carcass of the Owl was thrown out by the road, where worms, scavengers, and flies discovered it. The partridge remained with the milkmaids and ate their foxtail. The cows continued to be healthy and happy, and produced even finer milk than before.

For now, at least, they lived happily ever after.

#inklingschallenge #christmas inklings challenge

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reveriedreamworld · 27 days

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｡☆✼★━ Alora ''Lady Hope''━★✼☆｡

''Ambulare iuxta eam sanctus est''

｡☆✼★━ ABOUT ━★✼☆｡

Lady Alora Mara of Latibule is the main character of The Miniature Garden

The Goddess Of Hope with unmatched kindness, boundless love and compassion for all living beings, Alora is the reminder of the eternal power of hope to light the way through even the darkest of times. She is a beacon of light and love in a world that often feels lost and uncertain, offering comfort, guidance, and solace to all who seek her blessings, all while trying to find the keys for Porta De Paradisi.

Real Name

Alora Spes

Nicknames

Alora, Our Lady Alora, Lady Hope, Radiant Star, Hope's Child, Beacon of Hope, Celestial Dreamer, Guardian of Light, Starry-eyed Savior, Hope's Herald, Sunshine, Alora of Latibule, The girl as bright as day, Child of light, The Ruler of the blue valley, Blondie, Sunshine, Sunny, A Ray of Sunshine, The Baby, Kiddo, Aps (by Kanoz ) The Breaker of all rules, The Gods Most Hated Child

Likes

Life, bringing hope to people, walking around Latibule, sleeping, playing with Delicate, reading, drinking tea, desrets, sweets, pearls, Painting, Adventure, Sheep, Art, Cows, Dolls , Making up songs and stories, Freedom, Summer, Swing sets, Toys, Musical instruments, Tulips, Cookie dough, Music, Daydreaming, Physical affection,, Making new friends, Flowers, Being spoiled, Magic, Drama, Her freckles, Kanoz’s cooking, Chores, Helping others, Playing games, Dollhouses, Playfighting with Kanoz, Having tea parties, Picnics, Talking, Mushrooms, Heart lockets, History, playing pranks on her people

Dislikes

Being cold, Having nightmares, loud noises, Killing or hurting people, Confinement, Being bored or tired, Clocks, Selfishness, Sleeping, People breaking promises, Eilot, Anyone disrespecting her, Bright lights, Forgetting things, Staying still

Origin

The Miniature Garden, Season one (Star Shaped Tears), Episode one, ‘’Take my hand, the change of fate’’

Gender

Female

Age

8 years old (3,000 years old in lore)

Place of origin

The Blue Valley, Latibule

Status

Alive

Occupation

Goddess Of Hope and Death, Creator Of Latibule

Theme flower

‘’Lady Hope’s Tears’’ (Lily Of The Valley)

Theme Colors

Pink, Blue

Birthday

May 1

Hobby

Walking around Latibule, playing games, sword fighting

Family

Amita (’Mother’; Creator)

Friends

Kanoz (Father figure), everyone in Latibule, Mei, Connie, Viridis, Nimue

Enemies

The Envoy, Eilot (Abusers)

｡☆✼★━ Personality━★✼☆｡

Alora is a very bubbly, hopeful, outgoing, and empathetic deity who loves flittering around and bringing hope and good cheer to the denizens of Latibule and welcoming any new faces. She is incredibly friendly and hospitable, viewing all of Latibule’s inhabitants as her family and is always looking to brighten someone's day. She is a complete and total ‘Disney princess’, singing bombastically about her dreams and wants in the universe all while being flocked to by animals. In stark contrast to her disciple, Alora is far from regal and much more down-to-earth, dedicating most of her time to befriending anyone she can and creating a bond of friendship between herself and the people of Latibule. She is the one friend who will always stand beside you and never give up on you for any reason. She is generally very trusting of others due to living in a paradise her whole life, but will have to learn not to trust anyone she comes across on her journey.

Despite being the youngest goddess, Alora is evidently very intelligent; as the greeter of the Gate, she knows much of the ins and outs of the kingdom, giving her people advice on how to adapt in Latibule and which places they would enjoy going to. Despite her intelligence, Alora has a distinctly childlike, hopeful intonation and manner of speaking.

Alora embodies a personality that is both gentle and radiant, imbued with a sense of innocence, warmth, and boundless compassion. As the embodiment of hope, she radiates an aura of tranquility and serenity that brings comfort and solace to all who come into her presence.

She is known for her unwavering optimism and faith in the inherent goodness of humanity, seeing the beauty and potential in every soul she encounters. She possesses a childlike innocence and wonder, viewing the world with wide-eyed curiosity and delight, and finding joy in the simplest of pleasures.

Despite her divine status, Alora is approachable and accessible to all, treating every individual with kindness, respect, and empathy. She listens with an open heart to the hopes, fears, and dreams of her worshippers, offering guidance, encouragement, and unconditional love in return.

At the same time, Alora possesses a quiet strength and resilience that belies her youthful appearance, standing as a beacon of hope and courage in times of adversity and uncertainty. She is a source of inspiration and guidance for her worshippers, guiding them through life's challenges with grace, wisdom, and unwavering faith.

｡☆✼★━ Appearance━★✼☆｡

Alora is a short, eight year old girl with a petite body, giving her the look of a fairy. She has thick fluffy blonde hair cropped just above her shoulders, light blue eyes, and light skin. When she uses her magic or key, the tip of her front hair locks fades to white. She wears a soft pink cardigan with white embellishments and star shapes in the hem over a plain white dress, white lace gloves, knee socks, and simple pink ballet shoes. In her night outfit, she wears a lacey silk pink shirt with a silk ribbon and frilly white shorts and white legwarmers. While traveling, she wears a soft pink witch hat with white linings, a white blouse with buttons, a red ruffled dress with girdles, white knee-high socks along with 3 small pink bows on the sides, white gloves, and Mary Jane shoes with also small gold flower with four petals attached, the Ribbons and stars decorations are embellished throughout. She also wears a large leather bag. Her accessories are a light pink star hairpin, and a gold tiara covered in pink and white flowers that levitates above her head as though it was a halo.

｡☆✼★━ Lore━★✼☆｡

Some time after the Serenity War, Adita, the Goddess of Stars, found herself consumed by despair when darkness threatened to engulf the world and destroy her beloved humans. As tears of sorrow fell from Adita's eyes, they mingled with the essence of hope itself, giving rise to a luminous being of ethereal beauty and boundless potential. Thus, Alora was born, the physical manifestation of the ideal of hope, born from the tears of a grieving goddess. Adita, knowing that she couldn’t look after the manifestation of hope, casted Alora down to Earth. Upon witnessing the birth of Alora, a group of intrepid adventurers, drawn by the divine presence of the newborn goddess, pledged themselves to her service. They founded a village in her honor, a sanctuary where all who sought refuge from the trials of the world could find solace and protection under her watchful gaze. Alora, in her infinite wisdom and compassion, nurtured the village and its inhabitants with tender care, weaving a tapestry of love and unity that bound them together as a community. She was both revered and beloved by her worshippers, who looked to her as a beacon of light in a world shrouded in darkness, protecting her like one would their younger sister. Yet, despite the peace and prosperity of the village, Alora could not shake the feeling of restlessness that stirred within her soul. Sensing a greater purpose calling her beyond the boundaries of the village, though the ‘guide’ Of The Envoy, she embarked on a journey across the kingdoms, accompanied by Kanoz, whose own quest for redemption had led him to her side.

｡☆✼★━ Triva━★✼☆｡

Alora’s name means ‘Little Dreamer’’ Or ‘’God’s Light’’

Alora has a fondness for sleep and dreams. She is said to visit worshippers in their dreams, offering guidance, comfort, and inspiration as they sleep.

Alora has been known to play gentle pranks and tricks on worshippers who take themselves too seriously. These playful antics serve as reminders of the importance of laughter, joy, and spontaneity in life.

Butterflies are often associated with Alora, symbolizing the hope and inspiration that she brings to the world.

She enjoys anything sweet, chocolate being her favroite

She enjoys taking walks though Latibule at night

#Alora Mara #my ocs #oc #my writing

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sacredjoanne · 11 months

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Neptune in Taurus: Meaning, Traits & Compatibility

You better hold onto your hats because we’re talking Neptune in Taurus today!

This combination is like a fancy cocktail that’ll leave you giggly and starry-eyed.

Neptune’s dreamy vibes mix with Taurus’s love for luxury and pleasure, creating a cosmic spa day for your soul.

Think of it like floating on a cloud made of chocolate and champagne.

Neptune in Taurus folks have an enchanting way of seeing the world, and when they speak, it’s like they’ve got a direct line to the universe.

It’s like they’re sipping on the cosmos, and we’re just drinking tap water. Cheers to that, my friend!

What Does Neptune in Taurus Mean?

Taurean Dreams

They say that dreams are made of this, but for those with Neptune in Taurus, it’s more like dreams are made of… well, actual cows!

That’s right, folks, the Taurean influence on Neptune means that their dreams are often centered around farming, cattle, and all things pastoral.

It’s like they’re living in a dreamy, never-ending episode of “Little House on the Prairie.”

Intuitive Bullseye

You know that gut feeling you get that tells you to go with your instincts?

Yeah, that’s intensified by Neptune in Taurus like a million times.

They have a natural gift for sensing things before they happen like they have a built-in crystal ball.

Call it intuition, call it clairvoyance, call it whatever you want – just don’t call them crazy when they tell you they knew that would happen.

Artistic Drive

If you’re looking for someone to create a beautiful masterpiece out of nothing, look no further than those with Neptune in Taurus.

They’re born with artistic talent pouring out of their ears.

They can create poetry that moves you to tears, paintings that take your breath away, and music that transports you to another dimension.

Move over, Picasso, there’s a new artist in town.

Spiritual Awakening

While Neptune in Taurus may seem like they’re all about earthly pleasures (hello, abundant food, and cozy blankets), they’re also deeply connected to the spiritual realm.

They understand that there’s more to life than what meets the eye, and they’re constantly seeking to understand the deeper meaning of things.

They may appear grounded, but their soul is soaring.

Fantasyland

Let’s be real – everyone needs an escape from reality sometimes.

And for those with Neptune in Taurus, that escape is like entering a fairytale world.

They have the ability to transport themselves to magical places in their mind, and they’re not afraid to take you along for the ride.

Who needs Disneyland when you have a Taurean’s imagination?

Neptune in Taurus Strengths

Intuition on Point

When Neptune, the planet of intuition, is in the earthy and grounded Taurus, it’s like a sixth sense is turned on.

They have a knack for being able to suss out what’s really going on beneath the surface, and they can do it without even breaking a sweat.

They’re also able to intuitively connect with others on a deep level, which makes them great listeners and empaths.

Artistic Expression Galore

Taurus is the sign of beauty, and Neptune is the planet of the imagination.

When these two come together, you know there are some seriously creative vibes going on.

People with Neptune in Taurus have an innate talent for expressing themselves through art, whether it’s painting, music, or writing.

They have a knack for taking something ordinary and making it truly beautiful.

Empathy is Their Middle Name

Folks with Neptune in Taurus are true empaths.

They have an uncanny ability to feel what others are feeling, which makes them great at connecting with people on an emotional level.

They’re the type of people who will cry at a sad movie or get choked up at a touching song.

They’re also incredibly compassionate and always willing to lend a helping hand to those in need.

Spiritual Growth Through Earthly Means

Taurus is an earth sign, and Neptune is a planet of spirituality.

When these two come together, it’s like finding a diamond in the rough.

Individuals with Neptune in Taurus have a unique ability to find spiritual growth through the things that bring them comfort and security.

They might find peace in a quiet walk through nature, or comfort in a warm bowl of soup.

Whatever it is, it’s through these earthly means that they’re able to connect with the divine.

Slow and Steady Wins the Race

People with Neptune in Taurus are so laid-back, they practically move in slow motion.

But don’t let their leisurely pace fool you – they’re just taking their time to make sure everything is done right.

They have an innate sense of patience that allows them to wait for the right moment to take action.

And when they do, they do it with precision and grace.

They’re the marathon runners of the zodiac, and they always manage to cross the finish line with style.

Neptune in Taurus Struggles

Reality? What’s that?

When Neptune is in Taurus, the concept of reality becomes a bit foggy.

Those born under this sign may struggle to differentiate between their dreams and real-life situations.

This can be particularly challenging when it comes to relationships and career choices.

They may find themselves daydreaming about a perfect partner or job, only to be let down by the harsh reality of the situation.

Money, money, money

Taurus is known for their love of material possessions, and with Neptune in the mix, this can become even more intense.

They may find themselves spending more than they can afford, chasing after a dream that is impossible to achieve.

Their financial decisions can be clouded by illusion, leading to a difficult financial situation.

The grass is always greener

Taurus can be quite stubborn, and when Neptune is in the picture, this can lead to a lack of appreciation for what they have.

They may find themselves constantly searching for something better, convinced that the grass is always greener on the other side.

This can lead to a lack of satisfaction in all areas of life, including relationships and careers.

What do you mean, boundaries?

With Neptune’s dreamy influence, Taurus may struggle with boundaries.

They may give too much of themselves in their relationships or take on more than they can handle in their career.

They may have a hard time saying no, leading to feelings of overwhelm and burnout.

Creativity overload

On a positive note, Neptune in Taurus can bring out the creative side of this sign.

They may find themselves inspired to pursue artistic endeavors or to approach their career in a more creative way.

Their intuition and imagination can be heightened, leading to innovative ideas and solutions.

Neptune in Taurus Man

The Lovey-Dovey Romantic

Neptune in Taurus men are the ultimate hopeless romantics.

They love to shower their significant others with affection, gifts, and sweet words.

They believe in the power of true love and are not afraid to express their feelings.

So, if you’re looking for a guy who will serenade you with love songs, write you love letters, and bring you flowers every day, the Neptune in Taurus Man is your guy!

The Practical Dreamer

These men have a unique talent for balancing their dreams with practicality.

They may have grand visions, but they also have the patience and persistence to make them a reality.

They’re not afraid of hard work and are willing to put in the effort to achieve their goals.

When it comes to business, they have excellent instincts and can spot a good opportunity from a mile away.

The Foodie

When it comes to food, the Neptune in Taurus Man is a true connoisseur.

They love to indulge in good food and drink, but they also have a sophisticated palate.

They appreciate the finer things in life and are not afraid to spend a little extra on a high-quality meal.

They also have a talent for cooking and love to show off their culinary skills to friends and family.

The Perfectionist

This combination of Neptune and Taurus creates a man who is detail-oriented and strives for perfection in everything he does.

This can be both a blessing and a curse, as it can lead to great success but also to stress and anxiety.

They’re also likely to be very organized and tidy and have a keen eye for aesthetics.

The Sensitive Man

Despite their tough exterior, Neptune in Taurus men are deeply emotional and sensitive.

They may have a hard time expressing their emotions openly, but they feel things deeply.

They value intimacy and connection in their relationships, and they need to feel appreciated and loved.

They also have a strong connection with nature and enjoy spending time in peaceful, natural surroundings.

Neptune in Taurus Woman

Material Girl

If there’s one thing that sets the Neptune in Taurus woman apart, it’s her love for all things material.

This lady has a refined taste for luxury and often strives to surround herself with only the finest things.

From her designer handbags to her lush garden, she desires abundance and comfort in all aspects of her life.

Sensual Siren

With Taurus ruling over the planet Venus (the goddess of love and beauty), it’s no surprise that the Neptune in Taurus Woman exudes sensuality and femininity effortlessly.

She takes great care of her appearance and loves to indulge in pleasures that awaken her senses.

Whether it’s a hot bubble bath or a gourmet meal, she revels in the finer things in life.

Creative Crusader

This lady has a natural talent for the arts and often finds herself drawn to creative endeavors.

She possesses a vivid imagination and is able to manifest her visions into reality with ease.

Whether it’s painting, music, or writing, the Neptune in Taurus woman is able to express herself beautifully through her chosen medium.

Loyal to the Bone

When the Neptune in Taurus woman forms a bond with someone, she is fiercely loyal to them.

She values trust and reliability in her relationships and expects the same level of commitment from her loved ones.

Her steadfast nature makes her a dependable friend and partner.

Grounded Dreamer

Despite her love for all things material, the Neptune in Taurus woman is able to maintain her connection to the spiritual realm.

She has a grounded approach to her dreams and aspirations, carefully planning and executing her goals with patience and perseverance.

This unique combination allows her to manifest her desires in the physical world while still remaining connected to her spiritual roots.

Taurus Neptune – Love & Compatibility

Taurus with a Splash of Neptune

People with Neptune in Taurus have a love language that’s all about indulging their senses.

They’re like a wet dream for foodies, wine enthusiasts, and anyone who loves a good massage.

The extra bit of Neptune makes them dreamy and romantic, so expect to be swept off your feet with music, poetry, and all that good stuff.

The Art of Letting Go

When it comes to relationships, Neptune in Taurus folks are more about the journey than the destination.

They love to savor every moment, but they’re not in a rush to get anywhere.

They’re willing to let things unfold in their own time, and they don’t mind a bit of uncertainty.

They know that sometimes, the best part of the ride is not knowing what’s around the corner.

Patience is a Virtue

If you’re in a relationship with someone with Neptune in Taurus, get ready to learn the art of patience.

These folks are not ones to rush things, and they’re not interested in drama.

They value stability and calmness, and they’ll do what it takes to maintain a sense of harmony in their relationships.

Seeing Through the Illusions

With Neptune in the mix, there’s always a chance of getting lost in a dreamy haze.

While this can be a beautiful thing, it can also lead to some confusion and misunderstandings.

People with Neptune in Taurus need to be careful not to idealize their partners or put them on a pedestal.

It’s important to see them for who they are, flaws and all.

A Love that Transcends

At their best, Neptune in Taurus people are the epitome of unconditional love.

They understand that relationships are not just about what they can get, but what they can give.

They’re willing to go the extra mile to make their partner feel loved and supported.

They know that true love transcends boundaries and limitations, and they’re not afraid to venture beyond the shallow waters of romance.

Taurus Neptune – Career And Money

The Sensual Dreamer

Neptune in Taurus is all about indulging in the finer things in life.

They are sensual dreamers who love to surround themselves with luxury, good food, and beautiful things.

This influence can guide them towards careers in the arts, fashion, or even finance, where they can use their creative sensibilities to build wealth.

The Struggle for Financial Security

While Neptune in Taurus may be drawn to careers that involve money, they can also struggle with financial security.

They may be tempted to overspend on their pleasures or get caught up in get-rich-quick schemes.

However, with the right discipline and focus, they can overcome these challenges and achieve long-term financial stability.

The Power of Visualization

One of the strengths of Neptune in Taurus is their ability to visualize success.

They have a strong intuition and can sense opportunities that others may overlook.

By harnessing this power of visualization, they can attract abundance and manifest their dreams into reality.

The Importance of Sensibility

Neptune in Taurus can sometimes be prone to taking risks, especially when it comes to money.

However, they must learn to balance their adventurous spirit with sensibility.

By taking calculated risks and making practical decisions, they can avoid financial missteps and achieve long-term prosperity.

The Journey Towards Spiritual Wealth

Ultimately, Neptune in Taurus is not just about financial wealth but also about spiritual wealth.

They are drawn to a deeper sense of purpose and meaning in their lives and may seek out careers that allow them to contribute to society.

By embracing their intuition and creativity, they can achieve both financial and spiritual fulfillment.

Final Thoughts

If you’re dealing with someone who has this placement, you might feel like you’re walking on clouds.

Why? Because they’re dreamy, sensual, and value the finer things in life.

They’re also intuitive and have a knack for detecting bullshit, so don’t try to fool them!

If you’re looking to deepen your connection with a Neptune in Taurus person, indulge in things that engage their senses – great food, a spa day, or a cozy night in.

Trust me, your relationship will be out of this world!

Official post by Joanne at Sacred Joanne

https://sacredjoanne.com/neptune-in-taurus/

#astrology #personality types #mbti #enneagram #symbolism

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mycheerykid · 2 years

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Let’s dream away under the stars Lights. Music. Naptime. Getting a fussy or restless young one to sleep can be a real challenge. Whether it’s an afternoon nap or time to get some shut-eye at night, gain an extra hand to soothe a baby or young child into Zzz land with this spectacular Starry Baby Night Light. Discover a music-playing, light-displaying, voice-recording fun box that is a powerhouse for pacifying a crying child. Let’s put an end to the tiring “you this time, then I’m next” switching between you and your significant other for putting the baby to rest. It does everything you can So let it do the work Puts on a light show Let you baby gaze in wonder at the stars before dozing off. Plays music Play soothing and relaxing tunes to help your baby fall asleep. Records your voice Leave a message by speaking into the built-in microphone to let you little one feel you are there. Sets a nap timer Included is a timer function for 30 and 60 minutes so you can know when it’s time to wake up your child. A galaxy of color With red, green, and blue light you can set the star projector lamp to shine a single color -- or a mix of all three. Plus, if you’re in need of a moody light for movie night or something, you can use this baby lamp (no judgement here. Just more multifunctional use for you). Furry faces in the night A sweet rabbit, bear, and cow show their bedtime-ready faces on the lamp in eyes-closed looks, encouraging your baby to get some shut-eye too.Add warm, inviting color to a baby nursery or your living room for a relaxing atmosphere and vibe. Made from love Constructed of bump-resistant ABS plastic, our Starry Baby Night Light is crafted to absorb any hits, bumps, or falls for greater peace of mind (and less chance of any damage of injury) when in use (or if it accidentally falls). The light is powered by one 1.5V AA battery that is not included with your purchase. Great for newborns Our lamp is a wonderful idea for babies 18 months or older. Sized for tiny tots Measuring just 5.5in x 7.1in (140mm x 180mm), our night light won’t take up much space, fitting perfectly on a dresser or cribside end table. Get the product now! If you have any questions about our Product, or our service detail, please feel free to message us by visiting our Contact page and you can also visit our Facebook page.

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piraticusdorm · 3 years

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Farming AU!

I've been playing Story of Seasons again and 😳what if Piraticus but farmers.

Conrad

Over the top cowboy aesthetic obvs.

Cares for cows mostly, takes good care of the ladies and gives them cute hats.

One of his cows is pink and white.

He changes his piano for a guitar.

You can see Conrad playing his guitar in the grassfields, all the cows listening to him as they graze or lay down next to him.

♥️ Heart Events: Starts with him being a bit of a flirt, teasing the famous new farmer in town. As time goes you discover he's far more responsible than his first impression led you to think. He speaks of his ambition to become the best farmer in the world. And indeed, his milk and cheese products are top notch! You're progressing quickly which makes you a worthy rival. He won't let you take his top spot so easily though, no matter how cute you are.

♥️ For the confession Conrad takes you on a ride on the sea at night under the starry sky. He becomes more serious, a rare sight indeed, so you can see the sincerity of his words as he professes his love to you.

💚 Favourite Gift: Peach Wine

Tink

Mostly cares for chickens

The feathery fellas are as huffy and troublesome as he is, constantly flying to his shoulders and head. He doesn't mind as long as they don't peck him.

No roosters, none of those machobirds are good enough for his babies!

Tink's always upgrading the coops so the chickens and quails are comfortable and safe. Some coops have crazy shapes just for fun.

♥️ Heart Events: It's Tink after all. He starts huffy and cold, picking fights with you over who's the better farmer. It's him obvs. But slowly he mellows out, warms up to you. Tells you how he ran away and started his life anew. How what he wants most is a place to belong, to care for and be cared for. And he's found it.

♥️ For the confession Tink clumsily gives you a handmade accessory he made just for you before his chickens push the two of you close to help him out.

💚 Favourite Gift: Spicy Curry

Krok

Cares for sheeps.

He's often napping amongst them or hugging their soft fluffy bodies.

Very picky over the places his sheep eat at. Surprisingly he knows a lot about soil and quality of grass. He could just plant the grass himself if he's so picky, but that'd be too much work now, wouldn't it?

♥️ Heart Events: First meeting you trip over him as he naps. He rarely goes to town, and you discover there's no real reason for it- he likes the villagers but needs more alone time than not. Despite some disconcerting jokes and habits, there's something to that lazy unbothered lifestyle...

♥️ For the confession Krok just explains how his heart beats faster for you, and he finds himself with more energy and motivation if you're around. And he'd like it to continue.

💚 Favourite Gift: Soft-serve Ice Cream

Gwen

Good ol' veggie and fruit farmer.

The fruit from her trees is specially popular!

Talks to her crops all the time, and can confirm it helps them grow stronger and tastier!

In a current overdramatized war with the snails eating her carrots. Tho she feels bad getting rid of them...

♥️ Heart Events: First one to welcome you to town with open arms! You've taken her spot as the newbie farmer~ Her friendliness and warmth never sway, even as she speaks on why she left home to pursue her dreams, hard as it was. There is some guilt, but no regret. More so, she got to meet you, so there's no way she could regret choosing this path!

♥️ For the confession Gwen invites you to have tea with her and can't help but ramble on all the ways she loves you and how much she wants to be with you.

💚 Favourite Gift: Hibiscus Tea

#twst oc #twisted wonderland oc #aus #conrad #tink #krok #gwen #i crave... farming cope. cottagecore

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legal-graffiti · 3 years

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Happy One Year Hyperfixation to Me! ~~~

Catra can hear Adora pacing her room like mad when she enters. Adora stops when she hears the door closing.

"Catra!" She walks over to her instead, affection plain in her eyes. She takes Catra's hand, pulling it to her heart. Catra stares at it. Her fingertips brush the outline of the Failsafe, and Adora's heart races beneath her palm. Adora leans in close, pressing Catra into the doorway, and peppers Catra's face with kisses. Catra squeaks. Adora lets her go.

"Meeting with Entrapta ran a little late," Catra explains, breathless. "You okay?"

"Mhm. You're so warm," Adora murmurs in soft delight, nuzzling her cheek. At some point she stops moving, happy just to have Catra crushed beneath her. Catra taps her arm.

"We can cuddle, I just gotta get cleaned up first." Adora presses one more kiss to her lips. She lingers there, both of them still pressed chest to chest. "Adora," Catra chides playfully. Adora reluctantly pulls away.

"Be quick?" she asks. She's desperate, and Catra isn't sure why.

"So clingy today," Catra says, but her soft smile betrays her. Her fingers brush against Adora's arm as she slips out, and her tail curls against Adora's wrist. Catra grabs something comfortable to wear and heads into the bathroom. She leaves the door open. Adora bounces on her heels just outside, the steam from the shower tickling against her skin. As much as she likes seeing Catra without clothes on, she's even more impatient. Catra gives her a confused look when she gets out of the shower to brush her teeth. Adora is cowed into sitting on their bed to wait.

Catra walks to their bed and climbs onto her lap when she's done. She places her arms loose around Adora's neck, smirking. Adora takes Catra into her arms with a beaming smile.

"That wasn't so bad, was it?" Catra teases. Adora nuzzles into her shoulder, holding her tighter. She rolls onto her back and then her side. The motion hitches Catra up with her, making her yelp. They land with a soft poomf on their designated sides of the mattress.

Catra giggles. Adora's hair splays wild on the pillows. Catra's side has none of those; she just uses Adora. Adora admires the moonlight halo against her. She reaches her hand up, playing with the back of Catra's hair, making her purr. Then it drops down to her neck. Catra lets out a soft gasp when Adora touches the scar there. Her fingers trail down to her shoulder and follow the line of her arm until she clasps their hands together. Catra watches Adora take her hand and press it to her lips, enamored. She pulls it down, holding Catra's hand against her chest again, like she did earlier in the doorway. Catra's knuckles brush against the failsafe scar. She watches it- Catra hasn't been able to ask about that. Not yet, anyway. Adora releases her hand, and holds Catra's face with gentle fingers. She presses their heads together.

"You're real," Adora breathes in relief. Catra sits up and frowns.

"I'm what?" Adora tries to pull Catra back into her arms, but she isn't having any of that until she gets answers. Adora sits up so she can drape herself over Catra instead.

"At the Heart. I had a dream that you were here- in my room- and everything was perfect. And I guess this part wasn't really a dream- Prime took everything away from me." Catra shudders. She’s grateful that she never saw Prime face-to-face again- not after Adora had rescued her from the Velvet Glove. Adora blasting the ship with magic was probably the best thing that ever happened.

"I shouldn't have left you then-"

"No," Adora says, "It was when I was dying in the Heart. The virus." Catra lets out a soft breath. Adora crosses her legs so she can pull Catra on top of her. She buries her face into Catra's neck and clings to her. "I've been threatened before. That doesn't scare me. But sometimes I wonder if I'm still there. That you'll disappear if I even close my eyes. Your love is... It's wonderful, but if it's only a fantasy I'm having..." Catra runs her fingers through Adora's hair with shaking hands. She kisses her head.

"No. This is real," she assures.

"I can't take losing you."

"You don't have to die to have this." She can feel Adora crying on her shoulder, the way her whole body heaves with her stuttering breaths. Catra pets her hair. "I love you, Adora."

Adora pulls her head away from Catra's neck. She kisses Catra softly. Her lips taste like tears. She pulls them both back into the bed, laying Catra on top of her. She kisses her, again and again and again.

"I love you, Catra. I love you."

~~~

Before the Heart, Catra would pull away from Adora, afraid to let herself be vulnerable, afraid that she would only be pushed away in the end like always. Adora missed having something as simple as holding her hand, but she couldn't find the words to say anything.

After the Heart, Catra still hesitated. But they hesitated with a lot of things, so it wasn't unexpected. As wonderful as it was to have each other, it was still new, especially in the face of three years of being enemies.

After last night, Catra takes her hand every second of the day that they're together. Like a lot of things she does, Catra doesn't wait and she doesn't ask. She looks at Adora like she wants to put her in her heart, where nothing will ever hurt her again. It's not possessive- it's grounding for her, actually. Catra watches her with hope in her eyes, and she isn't going anywhere.

Adora never tells anyone else. She doesn't even tell Bow and Glimmer. So Glimmer doesn't understand it.

"I know you love her, Catra, but Adora doesn't need you to hold her hand to walk," Glimmer teases. Bow nudges Glimmer with his arm.

"Oh come on. It's cute!" Adora frowns. Catra does it because she knows the depth of her anxiety. It doesn't feel fair to her to brush it off.

Catra laughs.

"Are you sure, Sparkles? I'm kinda the brains of the operation." It's Catra's usual teasing, but it also lets Adora decide whether or not to say anything. She only grins and pulls Catra's hand to her lips.

"And the beauty too? Save something for me, Kitty." Catra lets out an indignant noise. Adora laughs and kisses her on the cheek.

~~~

When they go to bed that night, Adora wraps her arms around Catra. Catra purrs in amusement. Adora tugs a bit before taking a step back, so Catra knows to follow. She leads them towards the bed. They fall backwards into the big fluffy mess, Catra practically crushing Adora beneath her body. Adora only hums with delight. She appreciates Catra just being here with her, and she needs her to know it. Catra settles in, happy as long as Adora is happy.

"See? I'm right here," Catra whispers against her lips, "So close your eyes."

Adora does. She holds Catra tighter, feeling her chest rise and fall with her breath, the heat of her skin, the pulse of her heart like her own.

"I'll be here," Catra says, "Always."

"Promise?"

"I promise."

~~~

Catra has racked up an impressive collection of suits during her time in Bright Moon, and Adora has never tired of seeing her in them. A bold streak of silver stands out in her hair now. It's a warm grey against the dark of her hair, and Adora's heart catches in her chest. God, Catra looks more handsome every year, every day even.

Adora didn't think she'd get to marry her, much less be here. Today they're dressed for the anniversary of the day Prime was defeated and magic was released to Etheria. The end of the war.

Adora walks up to Catra as she fixes her lapel, a starry-eyed look on her face. She cups Catra's cheek in her hand. Catra pauses and gazes up at her, before covering Adora's hand with her own. There's an overwhelming fondness between them, in their comfortable silence, the soft smile at their lips, the way their fingers brush together. Adora's eyes flutter closed, and she takes a sharp breath.

"It was so long ago," Adora says. Catra turns her face into Adora's hand, kissing her palm. Adora makes a choked noise, and Catra notices tears falling down her cheeks. She squeezes Adora's hand.

"Adora, what's wrong?" There's soft concern in her voice. But Catra doesn't panic like she used to when Adora cried. She pulls Adora closer with her other arm, and just holds her. Adora shakes her head and laughs, even while she's still crying. She leans in and peppers Catra's cheek with messy kisses.

"Catra, you make me so happy," she whispers, "The last twenty years have been the best of my life." Catra goes breathless. She holds Adora a bit tighter.

"Idiot," she murmurs, "You don't have to cry over that." Adora knows she doesn't mean it, and she just laughs more. Catra lets go of her hand, only to wipe away Adora's tears with her thumb. She presses their heads together, nuzzles her nose against hers. "You make me happy too. I'm just... So lucky to have you." Adora beams. Her arm glides up Catra's back, and her fingers settle in Catra's mane.

"I love you," Adora promises her. There's no other words she can think of, that live up to everything Catra's been for her. Catra purrs. She tilts her head ever so slightly. Adora can taste her breath when they lean in to kiss, soft and sweet. They only pull away enough to breathe, and then Adora realizes that Catra is crying too. The good kind. She strokes her hand through Catra's long, wild hair.

"I love you too," Catra promises her, "Always." Adora sways a little, and Catra follows the motion. They hold each other close.

When they do have to pull away for real, it's slow and lazy. Adora presses one last kiss to Catra's lips. Catra fixes Adora's diadem on her head, then fusses with her hair a little, just to touch her. She takes Adora's hand.

"Come on, beautiful."

#HAPPY CATRADORA ANNIVERSARY #catradora #shera #spop #catra #adora #yay!#happy one year hyperfixation or whatever!

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madmaddoxfuryroad · 3 years

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HSMTMTS: Season 3 thoughts

So I’ve been ruminating a lot about this show today (like every other day) and I got to thinking about what they might do for season 3. Less so plot-wise (I mean season 2 is just over halfway through), but more about what musical they might do, what the cast might be, and how that could tie into the individual characters and their arcs (some more so than others, but c’est la vie).

In trying to figure out what musical they might do, I started first with the obvious: what does Disney own? I don’t think they would return to the HSM franchise (until the final season, but thoughts on that for another day), so anything related to that and other DCOMs I counted out. I also eliminated all Disney animated/princess films. I love them, don’t get me wrong, but seeing as this season they are doing BATB, I don’t think they would immediately go into another animated-film-adapted-for-broadway right after that. So at that point I wasn’t quite sure where to go. Mary Poppins was really the only other thing that came to mind and while I love the film and broadway show I just don’t think it fits the cast well slash even has enough parts to really showcase them. You have Mary and Bert. And then I guess Mr. and Mrs. Banks? Then the kids are a whole other issue. It just felt messy. So I just started thinking about broadway shows that I like, I mean if they wanted to, Disney has the money and could pay for the rights to use most shows. Then everything fell into place.

Into the Woods. I am 100% positive I am letting my bias for this show cloud my judgement, but if you stick with me, I think I can persuade you (or not, your mind is your own and I respect that). First off, Disney owns it. At least I think they do. They made the movie (RIP), so I am going to safely assume they have the rights at this point. Next, yes it contains fairytale elements, which might make you feel it’s a little too close to BATB, but it is such a deconstruction of fairytales and their tropes that I almost feel like it is an amazing follow up to a more traditional fairytale. It introduces conflict and the real world into these fantasy scenarios, which I feel goes really well with high school in general and growing up, expectations being shattered, and learning to alter your world view (I really love this play). Plus, I think it would be exciting to see this cast do a more broadway-type show. Obviously BATB is a broadway show, but I think there is a lot of reliance on knowing the film and less on the play itself. And not going to lie after Julia Lester’s rendition of “Home” last week (which I have not STOPPED listening to) it would be amazing to hear these teens tackle more broadway-style music. Which, takes me to my final point: the cast. What I love so much about Into the Woods is how it is very much an ensemble cast. Yes some roles are bigger than others, but if you have a named character, odds are it’s a fairly good role. And the whole HSMTMTS cast is so talented, I like the idea of them picking a show where it does not feel like anyone is sidelined with their part. Now the only thing left to do is cast it…

FULL disclosure. I ran into an issue early on that I ended up thinking Ashlyn was perfect for every female role and Seb was perfect for every male role. But I was eventually able to push through and cast it (in my humble opinion) pretty well. So I am just going to go off in the order that I cast them, because I think it will help explain my thought process.

THE CAST

Cinderella - Nini. Once I got over my need to hear Julia/Ashlyn sing “No One Is Alone” (loophole to this coming later), this felt like a pretty natural fit and was one of the easiest to cast. For one, I just think Olivia’s vocal range pairs very well with Cinderella’s and she could do beautifully with her songs like “On the Steps Of The Palace”. But what really got me was the way she parallels the character so perfectly. Cinderella is a character who always dreams of more but isn’t quite sure what that “more” is. And because she isn’t *quite* sure what she wants, the character is often seen grappling with indecision (see: “On The Steps Of The Palace”). Most of Act I is her being stagnant and letting the Prince take the active role. Finally in Act II she starts to get a better sense of who she is, who she wants to be, and what she doesn’t want. So this felt like it tied in really nicely with Nini’s journey and would be a great role for her, especially when…

Cinderella’s Prince - Ricky. Yes, yes I know. Ricky and Nini playing love interests? Groundbreaking. But stay with me. For one, I just like the idea of Ricky not getting the lead male role, and this part is perfect for him, regardless. The whole relationship between Cinderella and her Prince mirrors Nini and Ricky remarkably well. The way the Prince sees Cinderella as this perfect maiden who, if he could just be with her, would be the only thing he would ever want/need. But of course this isn’t realistic and isn’t how relationships work, which they both come to terms with by the end of Act II. Their break-up/parting ways scene might be my favorite in the entire play and I think it would be so great for Ricky and Nini to get to perform. In part because the conclusion of the scene is basically them both admitting that they will always love the idea of the other, even though they don’t actually work as a couple. (**I am operating on the assumption that they will have broken up in season 2 and are still broken up, but never really dealt with it). Honestly I recommend just watching the scene I will link it here (it goes from about 2:12:35-2:15:00). Plus, I could totally see there being an episode where they are trying to rehearse this scene, but it just isn’t working so Miss Jenn has both of them improv it or rewrite the lines to something that might feel more comfortable or personal. And I just see that being a really beautiful moment for the two and a chance for growth and closure. I could go on about this dynamic, but I will move on to my final point: “Agony”. First, while it is mostly a comedic song, you can take just the first verse of the song and recontextualize it really nicely as a Ricky pining kind of song, which I absolutely dig (not quitting on my Rina endgame, and you can’t make me) I mean: “If I should lose her, how shall I regain the heart she has won from me? Agony, beyond power of speech, when the one thing you want is the only thing out of your reach”. And BONUS I think we could also get a full-on version of “Agony” in all its absurdist glory with…

Rapunzel’s Prince - EJ. Well, sort of. Technically, no. BUT for the purposes of “Agony”, yes. At this point EJ will have graduated, but I don’t think he will be written out of the show, so it remains to be seen exactly what his place will be. I just think these two 100% need a song together and this is 100% that song. I could see it being something as simple as EJ is helping out with the show, the unnamed kid playing Rapunzel’s Prince is out, so they have EJ fill in. Or they have to have him go on for that kid last minute during the performance. It’s a quick, easily explainable thing that would have SUCH a great payoff.

Jack - Big Red. This was certainly one of the easier ones to cast, but my first thought was of course Seb. Jack is just a boy whose best friend is his cow and Seb radiates that energy. But I needed him for something else. Enter Big Red, the perfect Jack. For one, Big Red has a lot of that starry eyed wonderment that Jack has, that none of the other characters do. There is a purity and innocence to the way Jack sees a lot of things. That pairs nicely with Big Red. And it also opens the door for him to grow and mature more as a character. By the end of the show, Jack is in a place where is needs to transition more to adulthood and with Big Red being a senior by season 3, I think there is a lot of potential here. Also, with Big Red as Jack, I really like the character he is often paired with in scenes, but I will hold back until I get to them.

Witch - Kourtney. Yes. It is her time. One can debate over which character is the “main character” of Into the Woods, but for me it’s the Witch. And Kourtney deserves this. Did I heavily consider Ashlyn for this as well? You know I did. But I grow more and more confident in the casting of Kourtney the more I think about it. First thing’s first: the Witch belts, and I mean BELTS. Dara is such a powerhouse vocally that she would crush every moment of that; I have total faith. But the Witch also has such quiet and tender moments that people don’t think about as much, but are so necessary for the character to be effective and I think she also has that on lock. We have not seen a ton of it (so I would be eager to get more) but when she did her version of “Beauty and the Beast” she was able to find soft but strong moments in the song, and it was so lovely. Then, from a more thematic POV, the Witch is characterized as “the voice of reason”. While everyone else is running around in their fairytale dream world, she is always the one there dolling out the reality checks. And if that ain’t Kourtney. Basically, I think it is her time to get the lead and she would be amazing in this role.

Baker - Seb. Finally settled on a role for him. But really, how could it be anything else? I have felt since the first time we heard him sing (in Truth, Justice, and Songs in our Key, I think) that he was severely underused. The Baker is essentially the male lead, and he has earned it. I don’t think there’s much more that needs to be said here.

Baker’s Wife - Ashlyn. Here’s the thing: could someone else be cast as Baker’s Wife? Yes. And I am sure they would do a fine job. But the thing about this role is that you often don’t realize how fantastic it is until you see someone really great playing it. There’s heart, humor, tragedy, and so much more all wrapped into this character and I would far and away trust Julia/Ashlyn with this above all others. And Baker’s Wife gets to sing a short reprise of “No One Is Alone” so I get to win both ways. No matter how I try to cast it or rearrange characters, I keep coming back to the fact that Ashlyn is just hands down the correct choice. Plus she is one of the better options when it comes to having chemistry with Seb. And I’m not even talking about romantic chemistry, just more about the camaraderie of it, and being able to really see them as a team worth rooting for. They both have an inherent sweetness that makes you care for them, which is crucial for the show. AND this would be another opportunity for Julia Lester to flex her acting after playing VERY different roles in HSM and BATB. Basically, I don’t know when it happened, but I think I am a Julia Lester stan and I only want what is best for her and I think this is it.

Little Red - Gina. “Didn’t see that one coming did you?” -Pietro Maximoff. And honestly same. There’s always that tough moment in casting when you’ve done the more obvious ones and then you feel sort of stuck with cast choices that weren’t really your choice. But this one really grew on me. Hopefully, I can do it justice. And I will be the first to admit Gina deserves her time to shine because I do think she is amazing. It just isn’t her time yet. It also doesn’t help that Into the Woods is one of the LEAST dance-centered shows and dance it where she really puts all others to shame. So this is where we landed. But it works. I promise. Little Red as a character is pretty naïve, but covers it up with over the top confidence. That feels pretty Gina. I love where her character has gone and all the growth she is displayed in trying to be more vulnerable. But there is still a part of me that does miss mean girl Gina and I think Little Red is a great way to get that energy without backtracking the character development. I don’t think she would be the stereotypical “bratty” Little Red, but I think she could still do something great with it. Also very similar to Jack, Little Red is one of the more innocent characters that has to grow up and face a lot of harsh realities over the course of the play. And I have no doubt Gina would nail that aspect of it, too. And speaking of Jack, Little Red has a number of scenes interacting with him and you know what that means: Gina and Big Red bonding time! I really like the idea of these roles bringing the two closer as friends. And I already head-canon that they would have a ton of fun playing with the fact that they are now Big Red and Little Red (especially since he is on the shorter side and she is on the taller side). Basically I see this as a way for them to build up a really good rapport. I am also pretty convinced that Big Red is a secret Rina shipper, and this would only add to that. And finally even though this is not a dance-heavy show at all, one place where they could add a dance is during “Hello Little Girl”. Now I will be the first to admit that this song is dicey at best, particularly for Disney. But even a scene working on the dance with just the instrumental, no lyrics, could be great. I see it as a partner dance with the wolf (I don’t know dance terms, so maybe this is super vague). And oh, wouldn’t you know it? Cinderella’s Prince is often double-cast as the wolf! (WHAT ARE THE CHANCES) Meaning the Wolf would also be good ol’ Richard Bowen. And I like the idea of getting Rina scenes of them trying to work on the dance, but Ricky is super bad a leading, and they just have fun trying to figure it out. It’s also nice that it is absolutely not a romantic dance so the two wouldn’t feel any added pressure and could just have fun with one another, and that really is when Rina is at its best (not that I would say no to a scene where Gina has to teach Ricky the BATB waltz, but I digress).

Narrator/Mysterious Man - Carlos. By process of elimination, you probably could have guessed who was next. And I know this one also feels like a weird choice but I do kind of love it. First you have the narrator, which is another one of those roles that is only as memorable as the actor playing it, which I think is right up Carlos’ alley. He is always trying to put his unique stamp on things and be memorable and he would take the narrator in a very enjoyable direction. There’s also the matter that I see Carlos as something of an assistant director with Miss Jenn, which makes him a third-party observer of the shows inherently, so it is almost a little meta that he would also end up being the narrator. Then there’s is the mysterious man. I love the idea of Carlos getting to play two very different characters, but I love it even more because the mysterious man is the father of the baker which makes for a lot of sweet moments between the two of them. Yes it might be a little weird for Seblos to be playing father and son, but there is such a vulnerability and tenderness in the moments between the two characters, particularly during “No More” that I can get over it. Because I think they are one of the few pairings on this show that could really pull that off. I just think this character would be a great way to exhibit the range of Carlos.

**BONUS ALTERNATE CASTING**

I really, really love this idea and could not fault them if this was the direction they went, but I ultimately decided against it, mostly because I felt too strongly about another character having the role BUT:

Baker’s Husband - Carlos. I just really love the idea of Seblos getting to be front and center, with their dynamic as the focal point of the show. And honestly Carlos would also do an amazing job as this character. I mean, Seb and Carlos singing “It Takes Two”? How sweet is that? This would also be a great way for the development of their relationship to get a little bit more attention, instead of a side story here and there. There is a lot that could be done with this from a story perspective and I would be here for it.

Unfortunately, then that leaves me unsure of where to put Ashlyn. She could be Jack’s mother, but that feels like such a waste of her. I mean, she would do well and she does have the lead this year, so it’s not SO terrible her having a more minor character, but it just doesn’t feel right. And I really just feel so strongly that she would be the best option for Baker’s Wife out of everyone. And it opens the door to develop the Seb and Ashlyn friendship more, which I am always here for.

Anyway. Those are my thoughts. If you made it this far: wow and thank you!

#hsmtmts #rina #hsmtmts season 3

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sebthesnipe · 3 years

Text

Morality, Magic, and Chocolate Cows

Hi @logicalyfun!!

Storytime! I wasn’t apart of the @sanderssidesgiftxchange at all. So, the fact that you got me as a pinch hitter is kinda a miracle in its own right ;3 But I’m super glad you did! I’m so sorry you didn’t get your gift on time but now you get to chill with me! And I can be pretty awesome sometimes… Occasionally… Rarely but hey! Who keeps track of that kind of stuff anyways?

So, how did I become your pinch hitter? Well, you see. I’ve got this amazing best friend and beta reader @gilby-the-geek-girl. She actually /did/ participate in the exchange and because she’s just so amazing she offered to be a pinch hitter for it as well.

Anyways, You’re prompt got sent to her. This one right here:

“Your giftee: Fabi

Tumblr: Logicalyfun

Media to receive: Fan fiction, Fan art

Wish 1: Puppiesss

Wish 2: Fantasy world

Wish 3: Starry sky night

Topics to avoid: Remrom, no NSFW”

And it gave her pause. You see, I wrote this awesome fic called My Dearest Procyon (also on AO3) that checks almost all of these boxes (minus the puppiesss, but there is a REALLY awesome cat and dragons too!). So, she thought we’d be perfect for each other! So she sent your prompt to me and here we are!

Now for the bad news… I had every intention of checking off every one of your wishes, but the story got away from me and I’m pretty sure I struck out. However, I really think you’ll like it! Please forgive me for not sticking strictly with the prompts but I do mention each, and I highly recommend MDP if you really like those things.

I’ll also make you a deal! If you don’t like this ficlet, let me know and I’ll write you a new one that adheres to your prompts exactly! ;3

(Also... posting this on Patton’s B-day so it’s like double meant to be!)

So, without further adieu, I present Morality, Magic, and Chocolate Cows:

“Have at you!” Roman cried, his tiny form bounding off the small hill to swing at his brother, his cardboard sword bending at an odd angle.

“Actually,” Logan commented, hurrying along behind him, flowing blue cape flapping in the wind. “It would’ve been ‘ye’.”

Roman ignored him, adjusting the oversized ‘shining armor’ every time he took a step. The costume was far too large for Roman’s three foot, seven-and-a-half-inch tall body, though it was adorable to watch.

Remus, to his credit, laughed menacingly, the Sharpie mustache on his upper lip thinning from the effort as he parried his brother’s flopping cardboard blade with a small stick. His own costume consisted of a sheet, stained green, with what Patton hoped was paint (though he had never bothered to ask), wrapped around him like a toga.

“That's totally fair! Two against one!” Janus called from the safety of a tree branch; the yellow fabric of his shirt just visible through the leaves.

“I’m not fighting! I’m observing!” Logan called in his high-pitched voice, adjusting his glasses before the pointed wizard’s hat on his brow dipped forward, knocking them astray once more. His adorably pudgy form was wrapped in a shimmer fabric that reminded Patton of the stars Logan always seemed to want to tell him about.

“If you and V would help, your prince wouldn’t need an watcher-outer!” Roman whined, pausing in his attack to peer over at the older child and his companion, sitting in the shade below.

Remus took the opportunity to smack his twin across his butt with his stick, knocking Roman to the ground with a grunt.

A shrill cry filled the air, causing the other children to glance at Patton, who had been sitting on a blanket a few feet away.

Patton pushed to his feet, smiling softly as he approached the three boys, Janus and Virgil hurrying up to the crying child as well.

“It’s broken isn’t it!” Virgil rushed, his own tears threatening to fall. “Remus broke Roman’s leg! We’re all going to the hosp’al! I don’t want to go to the hosp’al! I don’t like doc’ors!” His words turned into a wail as he plopped on the grown next to Roman, waterworks in full force.

Patton examined the small scratch peaking through a tear in Roman’s jeans.

“Hm,” he sighed as if considering whether or not the wound was fatal. “We may have to amputate.”

“What?!” Remus gasped excitedly.

Janus moved over to Logan, attempting to whisper in his ear and failing. “What does ‘amputate’ mean?”

“Ample ate,” Logan attempted to repeat. “It means to eat a lot.”

“We’re going to eat him!” Remus gasped with a grin.

Patton couldn’t help but give a small chuckle at the exchange before sinking down on the lush grass and scooping Roman into his arms.

The pretend prince curled into the embrace, hiding his face in Patton’s chest as his wailing turned to sniffle.

“I don’t wanna be eaten,” he grumbled sullenly.

Patton felt Virgil curling into his side, tears soaking into his shirt. Patton glanced down, offering another small smile as he pulled him close as well.

“No one is getting eaten,” Patton chuckled softly. “Are they Remus?”

“Pft, no fair!” the mustached boy pouted, folding his arms over his chest and glaring down at his mismatched shoes.

“Why don’t we all come up with ways to make Roman’s boo-boo feel better?” Patton offered, motioning for everyone to move closer.

“I rather not,” Janus sighed softly. Still, the young boy scooted closer and sank down on the grass next to them.

Remus gave another ‘hmph’ before doing the same, though he made sure to sit far closer to Janus than anyone else.

“I can help!” Logan chirped excitedly, digging into his pockets with purpose.

Patton couldn’t help but allow his soft smile to turn even more fond. Logan was always the best helper.

Whatever Logan had in mind, it certainly got Roman’s attention. The sandy blond boy turned his head just enough that his cheek rested against Patton’s chest, eyes glued to the wizard.

A moment later, Logan produced a plastic wand. The pink shaft was a little too large for his tiny hands and the star at its end seemed to flash with tiny lights (no doubt running off of a few double A’s).

“I can cast a spell on him!” Logan offered confidently.

“But yes’rday you said magi’ wasn’t real,” Virgil whispered, still clinging to Patton’s shirt.

“Turn him into a frog!” Remus demanded eagerly; his pouting forgotten.

“Yeah, but I read it in one of my books today, so it has to be real! Right, Patton?” Logan asked, looking up at him expectantly, the others following his lead.

“Oh of course!” Patton reassured with a large grin. “Magic is very real.”

“It is?” Janus asked, suddenly invested in the conversation.

Virgil reacted in a very different manner, burying his face deeper into Patton’s side and giving a small cry. “Magi’ is scary! I dun wanna be turned into a frowg!”

“Oh sweetie,” Patton cooed, messing with the youngest child’s hair. “It’s not that type of magic,” he reassured.

“What other type of magic is there?!” Remus demanded, inching closer as he bounced with elation. “The type that can turn him into a giant squid?! Or make toilets talk?!”

“Ew!” Roman whined in response, once again earning a chuckle from Patton.

“I’m afraid not,” Patton admitted with no little amusement. “No, this kind of magic isn’t just reserved for very smart wizards.”

“It’s not?” Logan asked, moving closer and sinking down as well.

“Oh no. We all have magic of our very own that we can use whenever we want.”

“Nuh uh…” Janus breathed though he didn’t sound too convinced.

Patton nodded continuing. “Sure, we do.”

“What’s my power?!” Remus asked impatiently, “Can I make lasers come out my eyes?! Or maybe… maybe… um… summon a giant octopuspus to devour my enemies?!” He bounced to his feet roaring loudly as he stomped about.

“Your magic is something far greater,” Patton laughed.

“No way!” Remus breathed in awe; antics forgotten.

“Him?!” Roman gasped in disbelief.

Patton nodded. “Remus has the ability to see into other worlds!”

“Lame!” The boy in question huffed, falling back onto the grass.

“What do you mean?” Logan asked curiously.

“Well, Remus makes such a great villain because he sees things differently then we do,” Patton explained.

“So, he’s evil! I knew it!” Roman declared, shifting in Patton’s arms to simply sit in his lap, wound forgotten.

“Not at all,” Patton countered, acting as if he didn’t see the way Remus blew a raspberry at his brother. “Just because someone is different doesn’t make them evil.Though it can be scary, differences are what gives us our power. Take Logan for example.”

“Me?” Logan blinked in surprise, clinging to his wand a bit more self-consciously.

“Mm hmm,” Patton nodded. “Logan understands Remus better than anyone. He can understand how Remus sees the world.”

“So, he’s evil too?” Janus asked.

“I am not!” Logan cried.

“No one here is evil,” Patton laughed. “No, Logan’s magic power is that he can understand anything if given enough time.”

“So, you can figure out where chocolate milk comes from?!” Roman asked, pointedly staring at Logan who now sat a bit straighter.

“Well, if regular milk comes from a regular cow… and Patton says cows are just like oversized dogs… and there are a lot of different kinds of dogs… Then chocolate milk has to come from chocolate cows.” Logan explained in a matter-of-fact tone.

“Whoa! There are chocolate cows?! That’s so cool!” Roman gasped.

Patton was about to speak when his attention was pulled to the small hands tugging on his shirt in a patient persistence.

“Yes, Virgil?” Patton asked softly.

“Wha’s my magi’?” The youngest boy asked in a hushed whisper as the rest talked among themselves.

“You, my dear sweet shadowling,” Patton whispered, booping his nose. “have one of the strongest powers among us.”

“I do?” Virgil’s eyes grew wide, his hand lifting to his mouth to suck on his two fingers. It would be a few more years before Patton could manage to break him of the habit but it was cute nonetheless.

“Oh, yes. You have the power to protect. You tell us when something could hurt us or do damage in a way we haven’t noticed. In a way… You can see the future.” Patton’s allowed his voice to turn a bit wispy as if humbled by Virgil’s power.

“Sounds like a bunch of lies to me,” Janus interrupted, obviously eavesdropping.

“No one asked you!” Roman spat. “You didn’t even help protect your prince and now I’ve got a boo-boo! It’s not like you have any magic! ” He pointed at his knee, lifting it to put the scratch on display.

“Well, neither do you!” Janus argued.

“Oh, I think you both are pretty powerful when it comes to magic,” Patton offered.

“Well of course I am… I’m a prince!” Roman announced.

“Janus does too, Roman.” Patton mitigated.

“Like what?” Remus butted in, more curious that malicious.

“Well, Janus can work magic on people’s feelings,”

“I can?” Janus blinked in surprise.

“Well, of course Kiddo. You’re the best at it! You always know just what to say to make Remus feel better after he loses against the Prince’s armies,” Patton explained, “And you always know how to answer Roman’s questions about his costumes.” Naturally, Patton left out the fact that Janus used little white lies to work his magic and that he didn’t quite agree with the method, but the results were noteworthy.

“Boring!” Roman whined. “What about me?” Roman looked up at Patton expectantly.

“You, dear prince,” Patton replied, nuzzling him affectionately. “have the ability to change the world as we know it. You can push us to follow every passion our heart desires. You give us the very drive that will sustain us throughout our lives. ”

“What? That’s not fair! Why didn’t I get a cool power like that?” Remus huffed, sulking once more.

“’Cause I’m the Prince and I say so!” Roman answered, squirming in Patton’s arms. “Now, be quiet, Patton is talking about me!”

“Mneh!” Remus stuck out his tongue once more, but his brother ignored him.

“Now, now. I think all of your powers are cool,” Patton attempted.

“But Patton…” Logan mumbled, softly, as he stared up at the seemingly grown man. “What’s your power?”

Patton’s chest tightened at the question. Leave it to Logan to pull at the one string Patton wasn’t prepared for. What was Patton’s power? He manifested just as they all did, only he was the first. He grew faster than the rest of them, unable to keep up with Thomas growth, unable to keep up with his insecurity.

He was just Patton…. He had no magic… He wasn’t special. Not like the others.

He forced his smile to remain in place, trying not to let his voice crack as he answered. “Why would I ever need to be more than just happy pappy Patton when I get to spend time with all of you amazing magicians?”

“Patton?” Logan called, his voice distant and far too baritone to be coming from the pudgy boy before him. “Patton are you in here?” Logan called again causing the man to glance over his shoulder.

The memory he had immersed himself in froze, the boys still staring up at him.

He wiped a tear from his eye quickly and waved his hand, the children disappearing, leaving him alone in the small field behind their childhood home.

“I’m over here!” Patton called, standing and dusting off his pants, trying not to feel the loss. They had needed him so thoroughly. Everything was so different now. The boys were all grown. They all faced Thomas’ problems with a maturity Patton never could seem to muster. No doubt they thought him the child now.

Logan strode up the small hill in his usual dark polo and striped tie adorning his broad shoulders.

“There you are,” Logan greeted with the same half smile he always did.

“Sorry, did you need something?” Patton asked softly, forcing his smile to turn warm.

“Yes, actually,” Logan admitted. “It seems Remus and Roman are fighting again, and Virgil and Janus are placing bets on who can make the most constructs in the imagination. It is truly a disaster. There are puppies and octopoda everywhere. No one will see reason. I could really use your help.”

Patton softened a bit at the words. Maybe they still needed him… just a tiny bit. He supposed he could live with that.

“Puppies?!” Patton squealed in excitement.

Logan’s gaze moved about the scene taking it in, obviously having expected Morality’s reaction. “Isn’t this…” he hesitated, turning on his heel. “Wasn’t this the field behind our home back in Orlando?”

“Oh…” Patton breathed, flushing slightly. “Is it?”

“It is! Thomas used to play out here all the time! We all did!” Logan mused, with a small huff of laughter. “Wow, it has been quite some time.”

Patton offered a melancholy smile as he glanced around. He missed it all. It was nice to have the memories though. At least he could relive it when ever he wanted. Though he doubted Logan would even bother to try to remember-

“You know 7% of Americans really do believe chocolate milk comes from chocolate cows,” Logan informed him, “And Roman is still one of them.” He laughed.

Patton’s heart fluttered at the fact that Logan remembered such a minute detail. He really was magic.

The sound of Logan’s deep chuckle had Patton joining him. “Best not spoil it for him,” Patton teased lightly as Logan offered out an arm for him to take as they headed out of the memory.

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Logan reassured.

La Fin.

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mythologyfolklore · 3 years

Text

Born to be a kleptomaniac!

(A/N: My take on how Hermes stole Apollon’s cows. Bad news: this includes transphobia. Good news: Zeus and Apollon say trans rights.)

He had just been born – though through his eyes, his birth hadn't been as joyful as it should have been.

“My daughter! My pride and joy! I will call you Hermione¹ and you will be my beautiful baby girl!”

That had been her first words onto laying eyes on her newborn.

But everything about it sounded wrong, so wrong.

Daughter … little girl … and Hermione?! Really???

Gods came into the world with fully developed minds and knowledge beyond mortal ken and they grew up extremely quickly. That was how this little boy knew who he was – and who his mother thought he was.

Speaking of her, she had just cleaned up the mess from his birth and gone to sleep off her exhaustion, after placing him in a crib.

However, the baby boy refused to just lie in his crib and be bored out of his mind – especially, when his mother had upset him so in the very first minute of his life.

So off he crawled and out of the cave (how? He was a god, that's how!), leaving his sleeping mother alone inside. She would be fine.

Once out in the sun, he couldn't help but be in awe. What a beautiful place the world was! So wide, so colourful, so full of life!

Suddenly, he tripped and fell. As he looked around, sniffling because his knees hurt, he found that he had tripped over a peacefully grazing tortoise. The pain was instantly forgotten.

The little boy laughed, as he picked the tortoise up: “Hello, little thing!”

Then he carried his new-found toy off and killed it. Poor tortoise, but her afterlife would be awesome! After scratching off the flesh, he took the shell, the sinews and a few small bones and fashioned out of them a brand new instrument. “Lyre”, he named it.

For a little while, he tried his new instrument out, plucking the strings and composing little songs.

Then he got hungry.

And wandered off to find some food.

It wasn't long until he came across a giant herd of cattle. Now that was it! Perfect lunch!

The little god grinned mischievously and hatched a plan.

With great care, he selected fifty cows that were grazing separately from the herd. And with a snap of his fingers, he twisted their hoofs backwards to make it look as if they were walking into the opposite direction (damn, was he a genius or what?).

He let them feed some more, while he lit a sacrificial fire, then picked two of them and slit their throats. After butchering them, he portioned their meat into twelve and sacrificed the portions. Eleven for the Olympians, one for himself.

Then he made haste to get home before nightfall.

Sadly, his mother was already awake, as he crawled back into the cave.

“Hermione! There you are, I was so worried! What have you been up to?”, she scolded.

The divine baby frowned at her. “Don't call me that! I'm not Hermione! Also, I haven't been up to anything! I just wanted to look at the world!”

“Of course you're Hermione! Also, you're lying! My own daughter!”

“I'm a boy!”

“No, you're not! Don't argue with me, I gave birth to you! Now tell me, what have you done?! No honest person is out at night!”

He bit his lips (yes, he already had teeth). Why did his own mother not understand? It was true, she had given birth to him and he loved her for that, but she just didn't-

“Answer me!”

He sighed: “Alright, fine! I stole a few cows from some random huge herd I found in Pieria and sacrificed two of them to the Olympians! Happy now?”

“YOU WHAT?! HERMIONE, THAT WAS THE CATTLE OF APOLLON, THE BOW WIELDING GOD OF LIGHT AND PLAGUES!!! HE WILL HAVE YOUR HIDE FOR THIS!!!”

But “Hermione” snickered, because “she” already had a plan.

“Don't worry”, he giggled. “I'll be fine and so will you! I just don't want to live in this dark and gloomy cave for the rest of my immortal life! I want more! I want to be an Olympian! And if Dad says no, I will just become a thief for real and steal their stuff, until they give in! And if Apollon gives us Tartaros, I will just bust into Delphi and steal all the pretty stuff they have there, just for you! Don't wreck your head, I have everything planned out!”

“Sweetie …”, Maia sighed and pinched her nose. Just what kind of goddess had she given birth to?!

In the morning Apollon descended onto the Earth to check on his cattle. But as he counted them, he found to his horror, that fifty of them were missing! But there was no way they could have just wandered off! Someone had stolen them! So the god of light went off to look for clues.

Nearby he encountered an old man, who was tending to his grapevines. Apollon assumed an innocuous mortal form and approached the old man.

“Excuse me, can you help me? I was tending to my cattle in Pieria – a herd of white cows with curved horns – but some of them have gone missing. Strangely, my bull and herding dogs are still where I left them, but my cows have strayed. Did you perchance see anything out of the ordinary? Anyone taking them away?”

The old man thought for a moment and scratched his head. “Hmm … now that you mention it, there was something. Last evening, I was digging around my vine plot to check for vermin, when something strange happened. I saw a little child – a toddler at most, can you believe this? – driving a group of cows just like the ones you described. The infant had a staff and kept jumping from side to side and driving them backwards. I know that sounds insane, but-”

“Thank you, that's quite enough”, Apollon interrupted him. “Thanks for the help. Have a nice day!”

Then the light god hurried away to find the … uh, cow-stealing infant. It was a newborn god, without a doubt – probably a new half-brother, Apollon suspected. And sure enough, a bird with long wings (underneath the sunlight he couldn't tell what species it was) flew above him and confirmed his suspicion. Apollon was the god of prophecy, he knew an omen when he saw one.

And there on the ground he found another clue: the tracks of cow hooves. The tracks were pointing into the direction of the meadow, where they had been grazing.

Beside them, there was a different set of footprint: those of a tiny child. Weirdly enough, they were pointing into the opposite direction.

In less than a second the blond god put two and two together and grew even angrier.

“That little brat is going to get it!”, he hissed and followed the child's footprints, until he arrived at a small cave in Kyllene, Arkadia.

Despite his anger he couldn't help but frown, that a small child was living in a cave – still, justice had to be served. He climbed down through the opening and was greeted by the startled face of a goddess. He knew her: Maia, one of the starry-haired daughters of Atlas and Pleione and one of Apollon's many (many) second cousins.

Right after apologising for the sudden intrusion and telling her what the matter was, he demanded to see the baby.

She shifted uncomfortably. “My daughter Hermione? She would never-”

“Let me see her”, he repeated firmly.

Unwillingly Maia stepped to the side, revealing the crib which her child lay, seemingly sleeping.

The little one had curled up and pretended to sleep, as soon as he had sensed a foreign presence.

He kept his eyes tightly shut and simply concentrated on the voice of his mother and the other one, which clearly belonged to a grown man (and was definitely the loveliest sound he had heard so far in his young life, but this wasn't the moment for that). That voice belonged to Apollon, no doubt.

Steps that weren't his mother's approached his crib and stopped in front of him.

He could tell, that he was being looked over, but instead of talking to him, Apollon turned to Maia: “Cousin, didn't you say this child is your daughter?”

“… Yes? Why are you asking?”

“Because this is not a girl.”

The boy's heart skipped a beat – could it possibly be …

“What is that supposed to mean?! How can you possibly know my child better than I, who gave birth to her?!”

“Him”, Apollon corrected coolly. “I'm the god of prophecy, that's how I know. And if you love your son, you will deal with it. Now, back to you, you little rascal. Stop feigning slumber. I know that you're awake.”

Damn it!

Slowly the infant cracked his eyes open and tried to look confu- holy Khaos! That expression was nothing short of murderous!

The baby had to think fast and in an attempt to appear totally cute and innocent, he stretched out his tiny arms and pretended to be completely entranced by the beauty of the older god's countenance.

“Pwettieeee!”, he squealed.

For a few seconds the older god did look disconcerted. Sadly it didn't last long.

“Nice try, but I'm not falling for that. Now …” his murderous scowl of murder returned (such a shame, it didn't suit that pretty face), “… where. Are. My. Cows? I know you took them! Spill it, or else.”

The infant pouted: “Why those mean words? I'm just a wittle baby, I was just born yesterday! I couldn't take cows! What are they anyway? I don't know them, all I know is my metera²!”

Apollon laughed, but clearly didn't believe him.

Damn it times two!

“God of lies and thieves!”, the blond chuckled. “That's what you are, little one! That's what your title will be among the Athanatoi³, you mischievous little cattle thief!”

Apollon gathered him in his arms and proceeded to carry him off, despite Maia's very vocal protests and pleas.

Still the little god was smirking on the inside, because everything was going just as planned!

He wriggled around, as if struggling in the older god's hold and with a wave of his hand sent forth an omen (how? Divine magic, that's how!). Startled, Apollon dropped him, but he landed safely on the ground. The light god descended and picked him back up, not without teasing.

The little boy pulled his wraps closer to himself, demanded to know, where his older brother was taking him and kept insisting, that he was innocent of any accusation of thievery.

Apollon only frowned: “Stop lying to me, you little brat! You stole something that belongs to me and I will get it back and you will face the consequences!”

They kept bickering like this and getting increasingly frustrated, until at last, they arrived on Olympos and bust right into an assembly.

Zeus didn't seem surprised in the least, when his favourite son strode in with a child in his arms.

The Scale of Judgement behind his throne certainly wasn't – the weights (each resembling one of the quarrellers) were swinging up and down, awaiting the decree of Moiragetês⁴.

The new-born god couldn't help but note, that Apollon was almost Zeus' splitting image (unlike himself) – same long, blond curls and body type, same knowing glance, even though Apollon's pale skin and golden eyes differed from their father's black eyes and tan.

“Hi, Dad!”, the infant cried cheerfully and unwrapped one of his arms to wave.

The King of the Skies chuckled and waved back. “Hello there, little guy!”

“ZEUS!!!”, Hera screamed and jumped up from her throne. “NOT AGAIN!!!”

“Not now, my drop-dead gorgeous, stunning wife”, Zeus cut her off and turned to Apollon: “Well, my son, what matter is it, that you're bringing in front of the Olympian Council?”

Apollon glared at the baby, before explaining to their father: “This little criminal here stole my cattle!��

“Did not!”, said criminal protested.

“Did too!”, the god of prophecy spat, “And then he had the nerve to act innocent and tell me that he didn't know, what I was accusing him of!”

“I didn't steal anything!”, the child whined. “Dad! He just burst into my Mama's cave and made false accusations and threatened me, even though I was just born yesterday! Help me, he's crazy!”

“Excuse me, how dare y-”

But Apollon broke off, when Zeus burst into roaring laughter.

The King of the Gods laughed so hard, that it began to thunder outside and he could hardly keep himself sitting on his throne. Just like Apollon, he saw right through the ruse – yet he still couldn't help but be incredibly amused by his newest spawn's antics.

His laughter was contagious, some of the other Olympians snickered along.

Even Hera couldn't help but grin. “He pulled a prank on Apollon and called him crazy? I like this one!”, she chuckled.

With these words Zeus' good mood was doubled.

“Why, you cheeky little rascal!”, he snickered. “Oh, you're my son, alright! Seriously though, give your brother his cows back. And you, Apollon, calm down. Siblings shouldn't have a falling-out over trivial matters like this. By the way, little one, you made a sacrifice to us Olympians last evening, didn't you? But you sacrificed twelve parts, instead of just eleven.”

“YOU SLAUGHTERED MY COWS???!”, Apollon roared, flaring with fury. “FATHER, HAVE HIM LOCKED AWAY THIS INSTANT!!! TAKE AWAY HIS IMMORTALITY! THROW HIM INTO TARTAROS!!! ANYTHING!!! HE HAS TO PAY!!!”

Zeus held up his hand. “Apollon, I thought I told you to calm down. Now, my youngest, won't you tell me, who the twelfth portion was for?”

The baby beamed at his father. “It was for me!”, he cried cheerfully.

Kronion grinned proudly and fondly: “Ah, I see! You sly little fellow, you!”

He took his newest child from Apollon's hands and held him up.

“My dear fellow gods!”, he addressed the assembled, “We shall be the Council of Eleven no more. From now on, we will be the Dodekathoi, the Big Twelve. So, what is the name of our newest member, my son?”

Of course Zeus knew, that Maia had given their child a name – but he also knew that it was the wrong one.

And sure enough, the baby shook his head.

“Very well, then. I will give you one: from now on you're an Olympian and your name shall be Hermes. Welcome, dear Hermes, to our crazy family! Still though, lead your older brother to where you hid his cows and give them back.”

The little boy was ecstatic: he had accomplished his goal to become a member of the council and he had a name – the perfect name!

The only thing that blemished his happiness now was Apollon – or to be specific, the light god's extreme moroseness.

Hermes lead his older brother to the hidden cattle, just like Zeus had told him to, but the blond just didn't stop frowning!

But as he drew them outside for Apollon to see, the light god seemed to relax just as little bit – however, that lasted only until he finished counting them and glowered at Hermes.

“It's only forty-eight. Where are the last two?”

Awkwardly the youngest god pointed to a nearby rock. The hides of the cows he had sacrificed still lay there, drying in the sun.

“Well, my sacrifice had to come from somewhere …”

Apollon gasped, stared at the hides, then at his new baby brother.

“Th-th – h-how?!”, he stuttered. “How the Tartaros did you – how did an infant flay and butcher two grown cows?!”

Hermes shrugged nonchalantly. “Oh, well …”

But his nonchalant expression turned into a frown, when he saw how Apollon tore his own hair.

“Letoides, stop! You'll ruin your pretty hair-”

“Holy Khaos, you're already this strong! Only a few hours old and already a cattle thief strong enough to kill two adult cows! That's terrifying! How will it be, when you're grown up?! By Tartaros, you need to be restrained!”

And before Hermes knew it, he was being fettered.

Alone, he laughed, shook the binds off himself and transferred them onto the cows instead.

The light god gawked at this display of magical power, then his face darkened yet again.

Hermes was about to tell him to stop sulking over some stupid cows, when he saw the genuine distress in the older god's eyes.

“Well, that's just peachy!”, Apollon cried, distraught, and resumed tearing his hair (lovely, rich and long tresses of gold, flowing from his shoulders like cascades). “So I can't even make you face the consequences of your actions! No, you just get to do whatever you want without repercussion, whilst I don't even get the satisfaction of making you pay for what you've done! I'm the aggrieved party! You robbed me! Where is the justice in this?!”

The god of light took his anger out on a massive boulder, hitting it with so much energy that it melted.

For a moment Hermes was genuinely scared, but only until the other just plopped down on a rock and buried his face in his hands. Sadly he regarded his older brother. This wasn't right. He didn't want him to be so upset about something stupid like this.

Suddenly he had an idea. From underneath his swaddles, he pulled out his lyre tuned it.

Apollon looked up in interest.

Hermes strummed the strings with his stubby little fingers and began to sing:

“Praise to the Mousai, fair-voiced daughters of Mnemosyne and of cloud-gathering Zeus!

Praise to the richly tressed daughter of Gaia and Ouranos who gave birth to song and dance!

Hail the goddesses of the fine arts and may they inspire me in my endeavour!

Hail to the happy Olympians, the gloriously crowned, golden-throned gods … ”

And he sang of what he knew about the gods, the sky and the earth, the dawn of creation and how everyone had received their portion and domain.

Throughout his singing he perceived, how Apollon's expression gradually softened, until the god of light was completely and utterly entranced by the music.

For good measure Hermes improvised a little hymn to Apollon to dispel any remains of resentment. The blond blinked in (evidently) pleasant surprise and laughed heartily, when the child started to wax poetic about how pretty he was.

“Am I being serenaded by a toddler?!”, the blond asked incredulously. “This is messed up!”

“No, no! I'm not trying anything weird, I just want to cheer you up! Please don't be angry anymore. I didn't mean to make you so upset by stealing those cows.”

“Those?” Apollon motioned towards the nearby cows, which were still grazing despite the osier roots keeping their legs in place. He sighed: “You know what, just … keep the stupid cows. I have so many of them anyway.”

Hermes beamed up to his older half-brother: “Really?”

“Really. But tell me, you wily, little trickster, where did you learn this? And where did you get this marvellous thing? I have never heard anything like it!”

“That's because I invented it yesterday”, Hermes explained proudly. “I'm calling it lyre.”

“I adore it!”, Apollon exclaimed, “I'm friends with the Mousai, but even their music has never touched my heart like yours just did! Such a crafty little genius you are and you've just been born!”

“Awww, thanks! You're a genius too!”

Apollon chuckled and patted his thighs. “Come here, you little coaxer.”

“Yaaaay!”, Hermes squealed and jumped onto the Archer's lap, lyre still in hand.

“I see a great future ahead of you”, the blond prophesied. “I see glory in your name. I see you as a worthy member of our Council, a proud occupant of a golden throne. I see you and your mother honoured among all the gods. And I shall shower you with rich gifts and see to it, that all of this comes to fruition, if you will listen to me.”

“You mean you won't throw me into Tartaros?”, the little trickster grinned.

The Far-Shooter chuckled: “No. No, I won't.”

“Yay! Hey, if I give you my lyre and teach you how to play it, can I be the god of shepherding instead of you? And then you can be the god of music?”

“Very well”, Apollon nodded, summoned his whip in his hands and handed it to Hermes. “From now on you're the god of animal husbandry.”

The brunet laughed heartily, handed his lyre to Apollon and taught him how to play it.

Then they drove the cattle to where they had been before and returned to Olympos.

Thenceforth the Archer and the Trickster were always of one mind.

---

1) If you're stumbling over this name, Hermione is, in fact, an ancient Greek name and the female version of Hermes. In the epic cycle around the Trojan War, Menélaos and Helene of Sparta (whom you might know as Helen of Troy) have a single child named Hermione. 2) metera - Greek for "mother" 3) Athanatoi - plural form of Athanatos ("Deathless/Undying/Immortal") 4) Moiragetês - "Leader of the Moirai (the Fates)/Guide of Fate", an epithet of Zeus (and Apollon, but mostly Zeus)

#Greek Mythology #hermes #apollon #zeus #hera #transgender hermes #tw: transphobia #maia is not a good parent #apollon and zeus say trans rights #and so do i #just to make this clear #also if you tag this as slash i will kick you #hermes is a baby ffs!#and yes i know ppl who would tag it as slash

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rubickk7 · 3 years

Note

Meme for Fic Writers - 1, 8, 13!

1. Describe your comfort zone—a typical you-fic.

Uh. Hrm. I guess AU, with humor? Happy Endings, for sure. But otherwise I’m kind of all across the board. I have a couple of long-fics, several one-shots, a few that are set in canon, but most are an AU of some kind. They all have some humor, and a couple have quite a bit of angst. But it all works out in the end.

8. Share a snippet from one of your favorite dialogue scenes you’ve written and explain why you’re proud of it.

The entire first section of The Only Exception (with the floppy hair), because I felt like I hit the dialogue pretty well for how the characters would speak on the show. It was also a lot of fun to write.

“You need us to go where, now?” Eliot leans back in his chair, clasping his hands in his lap as he quirks an eyebrow at Margo. She’s been feisty since they started the high council meeting, more so than usual, and he’s not sure why.

“The Fillorian Fucking Festival.” She tosses down a paper in the middle of the table with a sigh, and Quentin reaches over to slide it his way.

Eliot glances at it before focusing back on Margo. “Why are you so unhappy about this festival?” he asks. Profanity flows out of Margo like breathing on her best day, but the downward tilt to her mouth tells Eliot there’s more going on here than just her colorful vocabulary. “Oh, is it one of those things where they require a representative from the court so we can approve their goat or cow sacrifice? Well, not it; I did the last one and you know the ruckus it caused when I snuck that goat away to sweet freedom.”

Margo fixes him with a glare, and he shrugs. “What? Fillory is still here, our crops are still growing, there is no ‘wrath of the gods;’ so clearly the sacrifice was only for show or there would have been armageddon by now.”

“El,” Quentin says, holding up the flyer with a smirk. “That’s the actual name of it—the ‘Fillorian Fucking Festival.’” He hands it over to Eliot, who skims the flyer.

“Huh,” he says. “Come ye to the tenth annual Fillorian Fucking Festival. Find your soulmate for all eternity or just the night.” The flyer has an image of what Eliot is sure is a very nice heterosexual couple that appear to be very much in love, their hands clasped while each holds a flame in the palm of their other hands. They’re gazing into each other’s eyes while two moons are vaguely outlined in a starry sky above them.

Eliot slams the flyer down on the table. “Fillory has an entire festival dedicated to fucking and I had no idea it existed? What the fuck, Margo?”

“Oh, I’m just as pissed off as you are,” she says, her arms crossed. “But even more so because you get to go and I’m stuck dealing with the not-so-fucking Lorians.”

“It’s not dedicated to fucking,” Fen breaks in. “And it only happens every few years, because it’s dedicated to finding your soulmate.” She smiles brightly, her eyes sparkling as she sighs. “They only put ‘fucking’ in the title to get everyone’s attention. And because of all the brothels that are set up on the festival site.”

“Finding your soulmate?” Quentin breaks in. Eliot’s eyes cut over to him, a soft smile automatically forming on his face as he takes in Quentin’s crooked crown, and his gentle brown eyes that are focused on Fen. “Like, a real ‘only one in the entire world for me’ soulmate?”

“Mmhmm,” Fen says, nodding. “Do they not have soulmates on Earth?”

“Only in Disney movies,” Margo says, sitting down in her chair. “And the best fanfiction ever written.”

Fen gasps, a horrified expression on her face. “Oh, that’s so sad! Well, finding your soulmate isn’t exactly common in Fillory, but the hope of it—it’s so romantic. I used to dream of holding the Fucking Flame in my hand, waiting to see if it would pull me towards my destiny.”

“The Fucking Flame?” Eliot says, exchanging a look with Quentin. “Fen—how many fucking things are there in Fillory?” Fen opens her mouth and Eliot cuts her off, “—never mind. Just, give me the rundown on this festival. God, there’s a Fillorian version of Encanto Oculto and I’ve just been sitting here helping run the country like some ignorant first year.”

13. What’s the best writing advice you’ve ever come across?

My buddy @theaudity linked me this article when they beta’ed my HP AU, and it’s really stuck with me - https://litreactor.com/essays/chuck-palahniuk/nuts-and-bolts-%E2%80%9Cthought%E2%80%9D-verbs

I specifically go through my drafts for the word “ feel” – and every time I find it, I try to make the phrase more active/descriptive.

Thanks for the ask!

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elizascarlet · 4 years

Text

Part I- Spring

“Happy Easter!” Anne gave her bosom friend a hug, sitting down beside her in class.

“To you too!” Diana returned.

Anne brandished a posy of wildflowers, giggling. “For your table, Madame.”

“Oh Anne,” Diana breathed. “The trilliums are blooming! I do wish I could go with you to pick more of them, but Mother wants me to come home right after school. We’re going to Carmody tonight to spend it with my cousins.”

Anne’s countenance fell. “You mean, you’re not coming to Easter dinner?”

Diana glanced around and lowered her voice. “No. And you should’ve heard the things Father said. It made me so angry I had to go to my room to scream into my pillow.”

“They won’t allow you to come?”

“No.” Diana sounded so dejected.

“I want this Easter to be perfect for Mary. She’s made Sebastian so happy! I just wish you could make it.”

Diana squeezed Anne’s hand. “Perhaps next year things will be different.”

Miss Stacy called the class to attention and their conversation ended.

Easter morning dawned bright and clear, with the crow of a rooster and the lowing of milk cows. The Snow Queen finally sprang forth her blossoms, showering Anne’s gable room full of starry white petals.

“Happy Easter to you, dear Snow Queen!” Anne called out her window, finishing tying her braids.

Down below she noticed a horse trotting up the drive. It was Gilbert Blythe. Anne took a quiet moment to really assess her rival. He was really quite handsome, having left boyhood behind, and looked all manly at the moment astride his horse.

Gilbert dismounted, and, noticing Anne in her window, waved. Ashamed at being caught, Anne drew back and slammed her window closed.

As she made her way down the stairs she could hear Gilbert’s voice.

“I’m here to retrieve whatever foodstuffs you are providing for Easter dinner.”

Marilla answered him back. “The shepherd’s pie isn’t quite done, so we’ll bring it along when we come over later. Anne,” Marilla said, spotting the latter as she entered the kitchen. “Will you fetch that pie I made last night? And a few of those fruit preserves, please.”

Anne did as she was bid, and quick as naught, had an old sturdy basket filled with food looped over Gilbert’s arm.

“We’ll be over there after church. Now get, get, or you’ll be late!” Marilla shooed Gilbert out the door goodnaturedly. “Are you ready for church, Anne?”

Anne twirled, showing off the new dress Marilla had made her. It was green-- a dark green like an evergreen tree-- with accents of gingham at the wrist, hem, and yoke. “I love it, Marilla.”

“I’m glad.” Marilla sighed, glancing out the window. “There’s Matthew with the buggy now. Let me pull the shepherd’s pie out of the oven and we’ll be off.” Marilla set the dish on the warm stove, covering it with a cloth. “There, that will keep it warm until we return.”

“Is it alright if I go over early to help Mary?” Anne asked.

“After church, mind you. Now grab your coat and let’s be off.”

Anne walked with Gilbert to his home. “Lovely service. I’m sad that Bash and Mary couldn’t make it.”

Gilbert glanced aside at her. “You know that it’s just an excuse, right?”

Anne raised an eyebrow, scoffing. “I remember that first Sunday. I thought the minister would die from apoplexy there on the spot! I think it so shameful that some folks discriminate. And especially a minister who preaches we’re all equal in God’s eyes! Being banned from the church just because the color of their skin... Oh and don’t get me started on Diana’s parents.”

“They sent a note declining Mary’s invitation.” Gilbert added, glowering and shaking his head. “Within all the flourishing and fancy language, it wasn’t hard to detect the real reason. We all know they won’t come because Bash and Mary are black. It’s disgusting.”

Together they trudged through the mud in the path. A silence fell on the pair, but while in the past it would have made Anne uncomfortable, right now she felt at ease. Was their rivalry truly at an end? Could they perhaps, be friends?

Somehow, that word wasn’t adequate enough to describe her relationship with Gilbert. Her and Diana were friends , and her and Ruby were friends as well in a similar way. Same with Cole and Aunt Jo. Kindred Spirits and friends all rolled into one.

She and Gilbert were friends not in that way. They were different but she couldn’t put her finger at how...

Anne, frustrated at how the right word eluded her, wasn’t watching where her footsteps were landing, and she stumbled over a hidden branch.

“Careful,” admonished Gilbert with a little laugh, catching her elbow to steady her.

“Thanks.” He let go and, strangely, Anne mourned the loss of his touch.

Soon, they made it to the Blythe-Lacroix house, which was already a-bustle with activity. Mary met them at the door.

“Gilbert Blythe! You will stay outside. I want no bad luck of yours to interfere with my cooking, you hear me? You take one step inside this kitchen and your curse will rain down and ruin all my hard work. You can clean yourself up in the barn and enter in through the other door.”

“Aye aye ma’am.” Gilbert gave a goofy salute and headed off round the back.

Anne smiled at Mary. “Would you like some help?”

“I believe I’m all about finished, but thank you for your offer. Maybe you could set the table? There’s Marilla and Matthew now. Oh! And the Lyndes right behind them.”

Soon they were all gathered together, and Sebastian said Grace.

Mary cleared her throat. “Thank you all for coming. You’ve made my heart good. It’s so nice to cook for a large gathering again.”

“Thank you for having us, Mary.” Marilla smiled over her glass.

“What did you put in your chicken Mary? It is absolutely scrumptious and divine.” Anne sighed, in raptures over the blend of spices on her tongue.

“Let’s see, paprika, cumin, tarragon, pepper, and a hint of lemon. I’m glad you like it.”

“Like it? It’s the best chicken I’ve ever tasted!” Anne caught sight of Marilla and hastily amended her statement. “After Marilla’s, of course.”

“Yes, Marilla’s fried chicken is always wonderful,” Rachel Lynde chimed in. “But your chicken, Mary, well, has an… unusual taste, that’s for sure.”

Anne glared at Mrs. Lynde, annoyed.

While the adults changed the subject and chattered about someone’s new cow or other, Gilbert nudged her arm. “Here, you can have more of mine.” He said quietly, gesturing to his plate.

Anne turned the glare on him. “Why? Do you not like it either?” She snarled.

Gilbert raised his hands to ward off her ire. “Relax, Anne. I enjoy Mary’s cooking just swell. But since I’m full and still have some left, perhaps you’d like to finish it, since you seem to like it so much.”

Anne felt chagrined, as though he’d just chastised her. “Sorry. Yes, thank you.”

Gilbert slid what was left of his piece of chicken onto her plate.

Anne quickly bit into it, half moaning at the taste. Finished too fast for her liking, another piece found it’s way into her mouth. This time, she caught Matthew’s eye over the table. He warily shook his head, reaching up and flipping his nose with his index finger, sublty pointing in Mrs. Lynde’s direction

Anne, confused, looked over at the woman.

“Oh my goodness!” Mrs. Lynde gasped, her hand clasped to her chest, her eyes large with scandal. “I cannot believe such a thing.”

Suddenly, all eyes were on Anne. She swallowed quickly, utterly baffled.

“Anne Shirley Cuthbert! I thought you knew better than that!” Marilla admonished, adding her two bits.

“What? It’s just chicken.”

“Yes, but to eat after Gilbert has already partaken of it is such a shameful thing. And you, young man,” She added, turning to Anne’s companion. “You ought to know better as well.”

Anne rose to his defense in indignation. “He offered because I enjoyed Mary’s chicken so much, nothing more. And besides, Matthew shares his food with me all the time. How is this any different?”

“Matthew is your guardian dearest, that’s understandable.” Mrs. Lynde coaxed.”But to share food with a man you’re not related to…” She shuddered, shaking her head.”How utterly shameful.”

Anne narrowed her eyes defiantly and, holding Mrs. Lynde’s gaze, took another bite of chicken.

The entire table erupted.

Mrs. Lynde and Marilla started shouting, Anne glaring while she finished her bite, then stood, hurling words back as good as she got.

Meanwhile, Matthew and Mr. Lynde exchanged looks before escaping out the door, and Mary hurriedly started cleaning up plates. Gilbert, seeing this, seized his chance to escape as well and jumped up to help Mary. Sebastian was frozen in place, his head whipping back and forth between the two opponents as though following a game of shuttlecock.

“I don’t see why it’s such a big deal--”

“Anne Shirley-Cuthbert you will not talk to your elders this way--”

“Teenagers! Didn’t I warn you Marilla that she would be nothing but trouble, her and her red hair--”

“Why are we bringing my hair into this? It’s not like I can change it! Oh wait, I already tried that!--”

“I am not discussing this further. You have behaved rather shamelessly and now--”

“If you had just listened to me, Marilla she would’ve been brought up right but no, you listened to Matthew and now look what’s happened--”

“Nothing happened! I do this all the time! I don’t see what’s shameful about it at all--”

“We’re leaving right this instance--”

“I won’t stand for it--”

“Argh! Enough, fine!”

“Fine!”

“Fine!” Mrs. Lynde left in a huff the door slamming shut behind her.

Marilla, cross with Anne, grabbed the girl by her shoulders and planned to march the girl straight to the buggy for an uncomfortable ride home.

Just before crossing the threshold, Anne turned back to Mary.

“I’m ever so sorry I ruined your dinner. It really was lovely.”

Mary shook her head, smiling. “Anne, it was in no way ruined. In fact, there was always a tussle or an argument anytime I held dinner at the Bog. Felt like home.”

Anne smiled and allowed Marilla to steer her outside.

As they descended the steps, they could hear Bash raise his voice. “You know better than to feed a woman off your plate. What were you thinking!?”

“I wasn’t! I was just trying to do something nice for her! I…” The rest of Gilbert's response was muffled and lost to the ears.

Anne smiled a little. At least she wasn’t the only one getting a scolding tonight, that’s for sure.

(Read the whole thing on AO3)

#shirbert #shirbert fics #gilbert blythe #anne shirley cuthbert #awae #i'm doing this differently

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averagejoesolomon · 4 years

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Hello! Some of you may have heard that I’m writing a PastGen Fic. You can read the whole thing here (by which I mean you can read the first chapter, plus this one). Enjoy!

Chapter Two

Yes Drill Sergeant.

Sometimes it’s better to lay low.

No Drill Sergeant.

It’s easier, now that all of them look exactly the same. Same uniform. Same haircut. Same expression of dread.

Yes Drill Sergeant.

Frost settles on the ground at his feet, on the very top of his breath, on the tips of his ears. Stark shadows stretch across the grass. The sun hasn’t even started to shine on the new day, and it won’t for another hour, but that does little to deter the overall sense of early morning panic. Matt is now one in a group of fifty, each of them standing at the front of their new facility with nothing but an Army-issued duffle and a strict order to hold it high above their heads.

The cold cracks along his fingertips as he raises his bag to the starry sky, but it isn’t long before all of the chill in his body is replaced with heat. In his chest. In his shoulders. In his neck. His own heartbeat crawls up his arms and his breath catches the building’s cool white light. Icy air scratches at the back of his throat.

No Drill Sergeant.

It really ain’t that bad.

No Drill Sergeant.

Maybe if he just holds perfectly still.

Yes Drill Sergeant.

Usually when he wakes up before dawn to throw forty pounds over his head, he’s at least allowed a decent cup of coffee beforehand. This isn’t like that, but it is close. It almost reminds him of all those mornings spent doing his chores on the farm. The only real difference is that the hay has been replaced with clothes, and the cows have been replaced with terrifying, screaming men.

There’s something to be said about the chickens, too, but it ain’t very kindly and so Matt won’t say it.

Voices echo across the yard, most of them mean, and monotone, and all blended together. He can’t differentiate one drill sergeant from the last, but he’s not willing to risk a glance around for a better look. Eyes forward, chest up, Matt can only hear the shaken responses of his fellow recruits.

Yes Drill Sergeant.

A boy from Pennsylvania hangs his head.

Yes Drill Sergeant.

A kid who wouldn’t stop bragging about New York City tries to rest his bag on his shoulders.

No Drill Sergeant.

Not one, but two drill sergeants plow toward the NYC kid, as though they’re racing for the opportunity to tear him to shreds. They must decide that it’s a draw, because both of them yell and scream with all of their red-faced might. Sometimes they’re yelling the same thing. Sometimes they’re yelling the opposite. Sometimes it’s impossible to tell what either of them is saying because by the time one is done, the other is just beginning, and they don’t seem to care who is giving which orders, just as long as they get to do so from no more than two inches away.

Matt begins to feel the strain in his own strength, but he’s not interested in a firsthand viewing of the display in front of him, so he forces his shoulders through the pain. The crisp morning air is now a welcome relief against rosy skin as sweat slides down his forehead.

No Drill Sergeant.

It really comes down to two options.

Yes Drill Sergeant.

Keep steady, or get spotted.

Yes Drill Sergeant.

Sometimes it’s better to lay low. Sometimes he doesn’t know the answer in math class, or he doesn’t want to set the table for company. Matt’s learned that life will hand him plenty of opportunities for attention, but more importantly, that sometimes it’s best not to take them.

But his bag is getting heavier by the second and he can’t stop thinking about how they issued him two pairs of boots. Not just one. Two. The first pair are currently tied tight on his feet, far from broken in, which means that the second pair are digging into his left palm, and sagging quickly. He suspects he may be starting to lean.

Yes Drill Sergeant.

He would do just about anything to put this bag down, even if only for a second.

Yes Drill Sergeant.

His arms are beginning to scream louder than anyone around him.

Yes Drill Sergeant.

He feels the thud of a bag land at his feet and for a moment he fears it may be his own. The drill sergeants seem to lock eyes on him, charging with a gleeful sort of anger that simply doesn’t exist in Nebraska. His heart races, sweat pooling in his palms as they head straight for him, and Matt preps himself for the most thorough verbal beating that the United States Armed Forces can offer.

But one of the drill sergeants just knocks his elbow as they walk by, and Matt realizes that, despite the many protests in his back, his own bag is still high above his head.

“Are you out of your entire mind, Private?”

“No Drill Sergeant.”

It is with no small amount of relief that Matt sneaks a glance to his left. It’s a barely there, quick-off-the-draw kind of look, but it’s enough to spot the shadow of the boy next to him, devoured by the darkness of three seething drill sergeants.

“Pick it up,” one says.

“Drop down,” says another.

“You heard him, Private.”

It’s impossible to follow, both in the mind and in the body.

“I said to pick it up.”

“You think this is a game?”

“Pick up the bag, Private.”

“Yes Drill Sergeant.”

But even as the boy grabs his bag, the drill sergeants still have plenty more to say. Even after he swings it back above his head, they still bury him in questions that aren’t supposed to be answered, in profanities that aren’t meant to be said, and in promises that Matt hopes they won’t keep. One of them even gives the bag a good shove, and it falls once again. There is no second chance, and they won’t be laying off anytime soon.

They’ve got him on the ground now, counting pushups. One, two, three: one. One, two, three: two. When a fourth drill sergeant joins in on the screaming, something twists in Matt’s chest—not quite right. Not quite settled. It’s four-against-one now and those hardly seem like fair odds, even in a place like this.

Sometimes it’s better to lay low. Then again, sometimes it’s not.

His shoulders feel raw and there’s a single drop of sweat that scrapes down his spine. His fingers are sore down to the very last knuckle and his grip is slipping anyway. Back home, this is when he might wrap up for the morning. Head inside, grab some bacon. Maybe peel open the latest issue of Superman while his pops hogs the Sunday funnies. Except this ain’t his mama’s kitchen, and no one’s gonna fly in to save the day. It’s just him, his neighbor, four drill sergeants, and a bag that he really should have been more strategic about packing.

Since the moment he first arrived at Fort Jackson, he’s hesitated with every movement, every word, every breath, for fear that he might summon the full fury of a nearby drill sergeant. But this time, he doesn’t hesitate. This time, he knows he’s right.

And so Matthew Morgan allows his duffle to fall.

There’s an instant sense of relief as blood returns to his fingers, but it doesn’t last long. Quicker than Matt can even catch his breath, two of the nearby drill sergeants pounce on him, and now it’s his turn to be screamed at, sworn at, scorned. The cool sting of adrenaline shoots through his blood and nothing else exists except for the sheer volume of the men surrounding him.

One of them is at his back, breathing against his neck and yelling directly into his ear. The other has somehow mistaken the inch of distance between them for the length of an entire football field. He has no idea what they’re saying because, despite what conventional wisdom had led him to believe, it’s actually much harder to hear people who are that close to him. And even if he could hear them, their words overlap far too much to form any coherent sentence.

He doesn’t know how long it goes on for. Everything here feels fast and slow at the same time. Dense. As though so much more can happen in a single, stagnant second. It’s all he can do to sputter out his own, “Yes Drill Sergeant,” before he’s on the ground too, counting his push ups. One, two, three: one. One, two, three: two.

His arms take on the exact same integrity of his mama’s Jell-O salad, and that thought only adds to the bile that’s currently bubbling in his stomach. One, two, three: three. One, two, three: four.

Before he can get to five, he’s being ushered back onto his feet and told to move, move, move. He vaguely overhears someone shout that they have three minutes to find their bunks, and so Matt slings his bag over his shoulder and starts in a sprint. He’s not sure where he’s going. He’s not sure that any of them know. But he sure as Hell ain’t staying on that front lawn.

The voices of the drill sergeants fade with distance. His breath stalls the longer he keeps going. He’s never been a runner.

“Thanks.” He startles at the word, not because it is loud, but because it is quiet. The boy with the dropped bag pulls up to Matt’s side and matches pace. “You’re an idiot,” he says. “But thanks.”

Matt’s words are stuck somewhere between his lungs and his throat, but that’s okay, because the boy doesn’t stick around long enough to hear them. He just takes off ahead of the pack, leaving Matt to revisit the density of time as he comes to terms with just how long these next few months are going to be.

#Unnamed Past Gen #Gallagher Girls #Honestly I love Matthew Morgan and Im not sorry about it

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cuzloki · 4 years

Text

Right Place, Right Time

Requested by: @kaylamarie306-blog

REQUESTS OPEN

‍Steve Rodgers x Reader

Prompt: alternate universe; reader and Steve were once engaged. They grew up in the same town and have known each other for ages. When their engagement is called off, suddenly years later they meet again.

A/N: I got more writing done tonight than I thought I would so I'm going to post this in atleast 2 parts. I love getting feedback on my writing too because I'm new to this! Please feel free to comment or send me a message

Part 1/?

ENJOY!!

It had been 3 years since y/n saw Steve. The last time you saw his blonde, perfectly messy hair matched with the deepest blue eyes you could ever imagine. Now he's standing in your aunt's house on Christmas day. I guess going back to where it all began might help sort out your racing thoughts.

Y/n and Steve grew up together in a small town in the middle of no where. Farm country no where. Your family had owned a ranch, complete with cattle and horses. They had gone to school together since they were 3 but never really interacted or gave each other the time of day. That is until the summer when y/n turned 17. A beat up blue pick up truck pulled down the little dirt road to your house. Y/n was in the middle of feeding the horses. The truck was unfamiliar and got your attention as she grabbed a hay bale and tossed it into a wheel barrow.

A tall, muscular blonde in jeans and boots stepped out of the truck. He was beyond handsome in every sense of the word. You looked up at him, pretty certain he didn't know you were there. Much to your surprise, he smiled and waved at you as he walked up onto your porch and knocked on your front door. Your dad answered the door and they went inside. You were confused by this handsome stranger but went back to feeding the horses. You were in a paddock with your horse Gunnar when you dad and the stranger came out. "Y/n, you've met Steve Rodgers haven't yea? You've been in the same classes for years!“ your dad asked you as you pulled your work gloves off and shoved them into your pocket. You gave the stranger, now identified as Steve, a once over releiving that you did in fact know him. Steve reached his hand out towards you " Hey y/n! I don't think we've met formally but my name is Steve. Nice to meet you!" you politely shock his hand and gave him a shy smile. " I've definitely seen you around town!" y/n giggles, knowing full well that everyone knew everyone in this town.

As it turns out, Steve started working on your family ranch. He ride the horses, cleaned the stalls, roped the cattle, etc. You had both become friends rather quickly. Being the same age and having a lot of the same interests, such as animals and art. Things changed one Saturday night. The animals were all fed and you offered to stay out and help Steve get all the animals settled for the night. " Everyone is where they belong. Fed and happy" Steve reports as he puts a pile of buckets down next to you as you were resetting the grain for the next morning. " They must love you now." you teased rolling your eyes at him with a giggle. There was a comfortable silence between the 2 of you as you finished up the barn chores for the night. You had turned to turn off a set of lights, only to catch you foot on a random bucket that had been left behind. You started to fall, cursing your clumsy feet but before you hit the hard ground you were wrapped in muscular arms. You opened your eyes, noticing that you hadn't slammed yourself off the concrete and look up to meet Steve's blue eyes. "Careful doll. Don't want you getting hurt on my watch." he winks at you with a smile. You playfully wack his chest with your hand as you both giggle. "I'm fully capable of watching myself, thank you Rodgers" you commented back at him. You both seemed to realize at the same time that Steve's arms were naturally on the smalls of your back and your hand were just resting on his chest. Before you could even finish your own thought, he leaned his head down and quickly pecked you on the lips and seemed to scan your face for a reaction after. You put your hand on the back of his neck pulling his head back down to your height smashing your lips into his again. Only this time, it was clear to both of you that you were more than just friends.

Steve had become really close with your family working on the ranch for the past 3 months, so when you 2 started dating, your family was over joyed. I'm pretty sure they had a pool of how long it would take you guys to get together already. Your first date was a romantic trail ride followed by a cute picnic that Steve had made. You two just clicked. It worked. But you were 17 and he was 18. Was he your forever and always.

Fast forward a year, you and Steve have been together a little over a year and things were fantastic and they continued to be fantastic. Make out sessions turned into sex in the hay loft. Which more often than not was where you would both escape to.

You and Steve had been dating for 3 years now. You were 20 and he was 21. He proposed under a starry sky on a beautiful summer night. You were over the moon! Happy tears were spilling as you jumped on him and said yes a million times while he was spinning you both around. That night had been one for the books.

Fast forward 5 months into the engagement and that's where things get rocky. Y/n and Steve were picking out the venue, the flowers, the cake. Everything to the last detail was being throughly planned and prepared. Y/n and Steve had joined some neighbors on a cattle drive (A/N: for those who don't know, a cattle drive is basically a bunch of people on horseback moving cows from pasture to pasture so they don't kill all the grass in one or another or if they need to be moved for milking and what not. The horses are used to corral the cows. Super fun! Anyways...). Steve rode a horse named Patriot and you rode your horse Gunnar. The riding was so fun. Chasing after the calves who had driffed to far from the herd. You when after a calf that had ran up a hill behind some brush. You slowly got a rope around her cute little neck as you cooed at the baby animal. You got back on Gunnar and started trotting back to the group. What you saw stopped you dead in your tracks. There was a bleach blonde barbie type riding behind Steve on Patriot. What in the hell!? You were gone 2 minutes chasing a calf and your fiance somehow caught a cowgirl wanna be. As you got closer to them you noticed her hands snack around his waist, hanging on for dear life. You let the calf out of the rope and watched as it trotted back to its mother. You walked over to your fiance with a fake smile plastered on your face. "Who's the barbie doll, Steve?" you ask as you get closer to them. "oh hey hun! This is Bindi. She needed a ride back" Steve answered with a super innocent sme on his face. You knew him well enough to know he was just trying to be polite. You rolled your eyes and made a comment somewhere along the lines of not bringing a horse to a cattle drive being a real dumb blonde moment. Things only got worse when you got back to the ranch. You and Steve had put the horses away in their stalls and were taking their saddles off. Bindi was still there! Like a leach on Steve's side. You brushed Gunnar in his stalling,knowing you needed to calm down before putting your saddle away. Putting your saddle away meant walking by her. Deep breaths were taken. You finally decided you were calm enough and closed the gate to Gunnar's stall. You grabbed the saddle and turned the corner to the tack room. As you turn the corner, you drop your saddle on the floor with a loud thud. Bindi had Steve pinned up against the wall. Her lips locked on his. He immediately pushed get off upon hearing my saddle crash onto the floor. You start running towards your house. You make it inside your room and lock it in record time. Steve pounds on the door trying to get you to come out or let him in. You just curled up on your bed. Crying. Angry tears? Sad tears? Betrayed tears? How about all 3 at once. You knew he could hear you crying as he slid down the other side of the door, and sat on the floor against your door. "Please darlin' it wasn't what it looked like. Please let me in. Let's talk this out. Please. I love you y/n" Steve cooed from the other side of the door. You stayed quiet just needing time.

#steve rodgers #steve rodgers imagine #steve rodgers x reader #captain america x reader #captain america #marvel one shot #marvel imagine #marvel request #chris evans

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