Tumgik
#but to follow that paragraph immediately with the second one? oof
giftedpoison · 6 months
Text
yo pjo fans come get your author what the fuck was that post about palestine and israel. (i say this as if I'm not also a fan of the series)
(Like on one hand I'm glad he recognizes it is a genocide and that the palestinians deserve to be free. But this entire section is horrid:
"The only real solution is treating each other like equally worthy human beings, and negotiating a peace that allows all parties a chance to live in security and dignity, with hopes for a future that does not include bombs and rockets and gunfire. This means security and support for Israel, yes. It also means a secure Palestine which is allowed to get the international aid and recognition it needs to build a viable state.
Do I think that will happen? Unfortunately, no. Humans are simply too selfish, too ready to blame “the other” for all their problems, too ready to dehumanize, though I also believe, perhaps paradoxically, that most people just want to live their lives in peace and have a chance for their children to have a brighter future. The problem is when we don’t allow other people to have those same hopes and dreams — when it becomes a false choice of us versus them." )
^ yes that is the link to the post in question. I think you can already see a less than tasteful element to the post (which i actually just noticed)
8 notes · View notes
icedteaandoldlace · 6 months
Text
20 questions for fic writers - tagged by the fantastic @frosty-the-killer-doll ☃️🔪🪆
How many works do you have on ao3?
13.
What's your total ao3 word count?
72,472
What fandoms do you write for?
The Flash, Glee, and Gossip Girl.
What are your top 5 fics by kudos?
Flying Free (or Free Kurt - Emma Pillsbury Style) ((Glee obvs))
Heartless (Glee)
Smoke and Mirrors (Glee)
Maybe Our Real Soulmates Were The... (Flash/Arrow)
As Frightened As You (Glee)
Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?
It depends. Direct compliments, yes, I'll reply to say thank you. I'll also answer questions, or drop little bits of behind-the-scenes info if there's something fun attached to a detail that a reader pointed out. If the comment is simply "wow!!" or "oof" or something else that doesn't really call for a response and that I don't have anything to add to, I'll just leave it as it is.
What is a fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?
Toss up between two:
Heartless ends with Kurt getting hit with another wave of grief after having Finn's letterman returned to him, and while he's hugging it and sobbing, for a second it feels like Finn's hugging him back.
The Longest Distance Between Two Points Is Arm's Length ends with Cisco accidentally vibing a moment from earlier in the fic, and misunderstanding what's happening in it. If he'd had context, he would've realized he was seeing proof that his mom loves him, but instead he takes it as a painful reminder that he'll never be enough for her because he's not Dante.
What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?
Probably Alive Again. Just two dorks playing in the rain, on the brink of falling in love.
Do you get hate on fics?
None so far.
Do you write smut? If so, what kind?
Absolutely not.
Do you write crossovers?
Not usually, but I have a few. Maybe Our Real Soulmates Were The... is considered a crossover fic by AO3 and FFN's standards, but not by mine. My most ambitious crossover (and the one I'm most invested in) is Preppy In Pink, which is gonna be so much fun when it's ready for posting.
Have you ever had a fic stolen?
I certainly hope not. Doesn't look too likely, though.
Have you ever had a fic translated?
Pretty sure I haven't had that happen, either. It'd be cool though.
Have you ever co-written a fic before?
Smoke and Mirrors started as a few lines of dialogue that @kurtbastian-land had sitting in her notes app that she didn't have a full story developed for, and posted on Tumblr for anyone who wanted to expand on it. I wrote a very dramatic continuation (the majority of chapter 1), and then @jwmelmoth gave it a happy ending (chapter 2). But then she realized we left a couple loose ends untied, so the two of us collaborated on how it should end, and wrote a few more chapters together.
What’s your all-time favorite ship to write for?
I honestly don't know. I think I have the most WIPs for Kamisco at the moment, but Barrisco and Kurtbastian are both incredibly fun as well.
What’s a WIP you want to finish, but doubt you ever will?
I started a crossover AU ages ago where Kurt Hummel ends up with Eric van der Woodsen. I don't think I'll ever finish it, but I like to reread the snippets I've already written every now and then.
What are your writing strengths?
Viscerally describing emotions, setting a scene, nailing characters' voices.
What are your writing weaknesses?
Titles, titles, titles, and titles. Oh, and also titles. They HARD!! Also, I'm very bad at following my own advice to write badly and edit later. I want everything to sound pretty immediately! This is how I get stuck on the same paragraph for weeks with a whole big chunk of the fic still unwritten.
Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?
Not something I'm going to attempt a whole lot of in the near future. I have already slipped a little bit of Spanish (+1 word of French) into a couple fics, but only like a single word/phrase at a time, spoken by bilingual characters in mostly English sentences. There are also a few spots where a character says more in Spanish, but I don't write the actual dialogue, I just imply a general idea of what they're saying. I'd love to include more, but I'm not about to make a fool of myself with Google Translate—I'm sticking to very minimal Spanish until I can speak it better.
First fandom you wrote for?
First fandom I finished a fic for was Gossip Girl. As for first one I started writing a fic for, it was either Gossip Girl (not the same fic) or Boy Meets World (a still unfinished Shawngela fix-it).
Favorite fic you’ve written?
I mean, A Little Help From Your Friends is pretty hard to beat. It's got everything—humor, angst, fluff, ambiguity, movie references, ROOMMATES!! And funnily enough, I gave it a title with a little help from my friend, @daftydraw (and by "a little" I mean she suggested the whole title and I ran with it).
And tagging: @starstruckpurpledragon @fictionandmusic @orangesunsets12 @thequeenofshebasays @queer-cheer @elledelajoie
8 notes · View notes
raw-lesbian-energy · 3 years
Text
Too Much Energy
Tumblr media
[Image description: Anonymous said
could u maybe do a fic with lee marcy and ler anne and ler sasha? maybe marcy is too energetic and they try to get rid of some of her energy? marclee haha]
MARCLEE IS BEST LEE I LOVE HER SM,, Anon I had a lot of fun with this request and it was definitely a good break from the plot-heavy story! Hope you enjoy!
——
Summary: Marcy Wu has way too much energy for Anne and Sasha to handle, so the two friends work together to help tire out the wound-up teen.
Fandom: Amphibia
Pairing: None
Features: None
Word Count: 1,034
Warnings: This is a tickle fic! If that’s not your thing, just keep scrolling.
—————————————————————
“Ooh, you guys have to hear about this!”
Marcy was practically bouncing on the spot, reading yet another paragraph from her extensive notebook of Amphibia. Anne and Sasha were leaning tiredly against the couch, neither of them sure how their friend still had so much energy.
Normally, they were fine with hearing their friend ramble, but today had been a bit more taxing after having to deal with some unwelcome giant bugs that were threatening Wartwood. Marcy had been a big help with her notes on them, however the one info dump led to another, and soon the girl was reading her entire notebook to her two friends.
“Mar-Mar, you need to take a break.” Anne told her, fatigue clear in her voice. “You’ve been talking nonstop for like, three hours now.” Marcy fell silent at the statement, blinking in surprise as a small blush of embarrassment crept onto her face.
“Oh, my bad.” She said sheepishly. “I guess I got carried away, but Amphibia is just chock full of interesting things! Like, did you know that-” without even realizing, Marcy started into another ramble, making Sasha sigh and rub the bridge of her nose in frustration.
“Psst-” Sasha heard a whisper next to her, looking over and seeing Anne with a small yet mischievous smile on her face. She silently pointed a thumb to Marcy, wiggling her fingers after to mime out her plan. Sasha was quick to catch on, gaining a smirk as both of them looked back up at Marcy. The raven-haired girl hadn’t even noticed her friends yet, still rambling about some kind of carnivorous plant.
“-it’s a lot like a venus fly trap, actually.” She explained. “The difference is they also have a paralyzing venom that can- eep!” Marcy cut off mid-sentence as she felt hands grasp her sides, hauling her off the ground and carrying her back to the couch.
“Sasha, put me dohown!” She squeaked, the hands on her sides causing a small bout of giggles to escape her lips. Much to her surprise, Sasha did put her down…by unceremoniously tossing her on the couch. A small ‘oof!’ came from Marcy as she tried to upright herself, only for her two friends to suddenly be sitting on either side of her.
“Sorry Marbles,” Anne said, leaning against her, “but you’ve got too much energy, and we need to do something about it.” Marcy wasn’t sure what she meant until she felt hands on her sides, earning a high-pitched squeak followed by bright, bubbly giggles.
“Hehehey, wait!” She managed, the giggles soon overwhelming her words. Anne grinned at the sound, skittering her fingers over her friend’s exposed sides to test her reactions.
“Still ticklish as ever, I see.” Sasha mused, feeling Marcy starting to lean against her in an attempt to scoot away from Anne’s tickling. Of course, this didn’t work as Sasha held steady, leaving the raven-haired girl stuck between her two friends. Her cheeks turned pink as a goofy smile spread across her face, which Anne couldn’t help but coo at.
“Aww, you’re so cute, Mar-Mar!” She said sweetly. Marcy’s whole face turned red at Anne’s words, starting to thrash more as she felt the tickling creep up to her rib cage. All three had ditched their armour earlier, as it was a warmer day, leaving all of Marcy’s worst spots exposed.
“Ihihihi’m nohohot!” She squealed, tossing her head back and almost hitting Sasha by accident. The blonde had been able to dodge it at the last second, but the action flipped a switch in her mind and she rounded on Marcy in an instant.
“Alright, you asked for it!” She cried, wrapping her arms around Marcy’s chest and pulling her in, effectively trapping her in an iron hold. Fingers dug into the hollows of her underarms, earning a high-pitched shriek that was immediately followed by frantic laughter. Her legs kicked uselessly as she tried to pull herself free, only for Anne to sit herself on Marcy’s thighs to hold her down further. Four hands tickled at her sides and underarms, kneading and spidering and squeezing away at any spot they could reach.
“GuhuhUYS-!” The cry was hardly noticeable through all the laughter, and Marcy quickly realized there was nothing she could do but submit to her ticklish fate. Her ears had turned red at that point, eyes screwed shut and tears pricking in the corners of them. Despite how hard she was laughing, though, she still seemed to have plenty of energy.
“Man, I’m surprised she’s holding out this long.��� Sasha commented to Anne, having to raise her voice somewhat to be heard. Anne nodded in agreement, and deciding to test Marcy further, moved her hands down and drummed her fingers against her hips. This earned a squeal that was so high in pitch that it actually left Anne’s ears ringing, causing her to pull away.
“Whoa, you good, Mar-Mar?” She asked. Sasha had even stopped, loosening her grip and allowing Marcy to catch her breath. The girl was a blushing mess, her hair frizzy from her struggling and a goofy smile still plastered on her face.
“Yeheheah…” She panted, brushing her hair back with her fingers, “just…g-gimme a sec.” Anne and Sasha exchanged a glance, both of them smiling softly as Marcy worked to compose herself.
“What do you think, Sash?” Anne asked, turning her gaze back to Marcy. “Has she had enough?”
“Don’t know.” Sasha replied, sitting back against the arm of the couch. “Girl’s got enough energy to power a city.” Anne chuckled at the comment, however Marcy seemed to perk up.
“Actually, Newtopia has been working on a renewable energYYY-!” A squeal left her throat as Sasha immediately started tickling her again, spidering her fingers over the teen’s ribs.
“If you’ve got energy to ramble, you’ve got energy to be tickled.” Sasha told her, though all that Marcy replied with was high-pitched giggles. Anne chuckled and ended up joining in again, doubling the electric sensations that were spreading through Marcy’s torso.
Anne and Sasha were right; she did have lots of energy. But having it be spent through her two best friends tickling her silly was more than fine by her.
44 notes · View notes
silverkoushi · 3 years
Text
haikyuu!! headcanons
⇢ scenario: how you’d spend the holidays with them!! pt.2 | read pt. 1 here! ⇢ feat. : tsukki (karasuno), bokuto (fukurodani) & kuroo (nekoma) x gn!reader ⇢  wc & warnings:  3.3k, slightly suggestive for kuroo
ʕ·ᴥ·ʔ not @ me having the phattest crush on kuroo as you can probably tell here... dear god that man is something edit: omo for some reason the paragraphs got messed up n i just checked it after hours of posting... i fixed it now so hopefully it makes more sense ahh my apologies!! ><
tsukishima kei
୨୧ ˻˳˯ₑ*॰¨̮  idk about you but i think tsukki secretly enjoys the holidays? like he’d think the music is overbearing, the movies are disgustingly cliche, and the amount of people gathering in places is one of his worst nightmares— those aren’t the things that he looks forward to. i think tsukki loves winter, maybe because i see him as a softie who collects sweaters, hoodies, and sweatpants that keep him comfy and cozy during cold nights and chilly mornings! WITH THAT BEING SAID, tsukki dies inside when he sees you wearing any of those following outfits of his. he might get annoyed at first that you don’t ask because he was planning on wearing them that day, but when you show up at his dorm clad in his night blue sweater with a little moon stitched on the side, there are no words coming out of his mouth. he will try to look menacing, eyes in a deadpan expression but you know he’s lying, and just stare at him with a doe-like face and put his hands in yours, swinging it back and forth as you drag him out of his room and into the snowy field. you don’t even think twice about getting matching sweaters because the boy will hate you for the rest of his life, but at least you got him to wear a reindeer headband for 2 seconds in the photobooth!! most of the time, you basically just bring him to anywhere you want to go. you guys look at the humongous christmas tree they placed in the center of the plaza, and you ask someone walking by if you can get a picture of the two of you in front of him. this way, tsukki can’t complain and will be semi-forced to pose with you hehe. you thought he’d just be standing there, arms to his side with a nonchalant expression but you actually feel him put his arm around your waist and lean his head down on top of yours. 
you can’t help the cheeky smile show on your face as you tiptoe just enough to reach his cheek, and once the guy said, “ok one more!” you steal a kiss on the side of tsukki’s small smile. “hey, what was—” “thanks, mister!! happy holidays!!” you avoid his stare, and get your phone back from the guy as you scroll through the pics he took (thank god only a few were blurry). tsukki keeps glaring at you, and you understand he’s not big into pda but uh, he started it with holding you close to him like that >:( “what?? you look so cute here, though!!” you whine to him, hoping he doesn’t ask that you delete it :( tsukki gives it a once over, a warm feeling creeping on his cheeks as he studies the picture: damn, is he whipped for you. he dismisses the overreaction on his part (for once), and takes your hand in his once more, asking where it is you wanted to go next. you’re surprised he left it like that, but you’re taking advantage of this situation and drag him to more festive stuff around the plaza <3
with your parents spending the holidays abroad and working overtime, tsukki’s mom invited you to their place instead and you’re!! more than happy and oh so grateful!! tsukki doesn’t show it but he’s actually extremely nervous,, what if you don’t like his family?? what if his brother is too annoying for you, what if this isn’t the kind of in-laws you were expecting— wait, he’s thinking too far ahead and you’re looking at him with raised eyebrows. quick! he turns away from your gaze, biting his lip at getting caught with his overthinking. “tsukki, you okay?” you ask gently, looping your arm around his as you guys near his house. “yeah…” he responds lamely, and you’re not sure if he wanted you at his house for the holidays or what… but you shake the negativity away and tell yourself that this is an opportunity to show your own personality to his family!! you’re greeted by a boisterous even taller guy at the door, and his also really tall mom waving at you from the kitchen, finishing up the grand dinner. “mom and i thought you were just pretending about your relationship, tsukki~” akiteru nudges him, and you chuckle at your boyfriend’s helpless look on his face, as if telling you this is what i dealt with during my childhood. but the holiday celebration with his family went super smooth!! his mom cooked amazing homemade dishes, and tsukki was actually smiling and laughing along the poor jokes akiteru made, it was so endearing to watch. you asked to help with the clean up as tsukki and his brother play volleyball outside in the cold. 
“i’m so glad he has you,” his mom comforts you, and you nod your head in thanks while you wipe the plates clean. “i’ve never seen him so… cheerful like this, you know?” what a heartwarming thing to say :(( and yet you thought he was just finally letting loose because he’s at home!! his mom turns in early that eve of christmas, and his brother goes out to have a nightly beer sesh with his hometown friends before christmas morning tomorrow. you and tsukki are left alone in his room as you marvel at the many dinosaur related merch, posters, and even stuffies he has in his childhood room!! “don’t say it,” he threatens you lightly, even though you’ve been well-aware of his fascination for the species. a little tired from the trip earlier and ngl you’re both full from the food, you lay down on the floor, pillows supporting your sleepy heads as tsukki shares the other side of his earphones. you listen to calming, lofi music for the night and at some point, he finds your fingers in his again. “thank you for having me, tsukki,” you whisper with a yawn, remembering the night days ago where you cried into his shoulder about missing your own family during this season. tsukki doesn’t respond as he hears your light snoring, and instead turns his body towards you as he caresses the side of your face, smiling at the beauty before him. “you’re always welcome here, dummy. you’ll always have me.”
bokuto koutarou
୨୧ ˻˳˯ₑ*॰¨̮  oof!! so many holiday parties!! gift giving exchanges!! dancing and singing, drinking and having the time of your lives! of course, bokuto asks first and foremost if you’re okay going to all of these celebrations with him as he has gathered a lot of friends from different majors, clubs, and such. you didn’t expect to come with him to all of them, tbh, but since he seems so excited to bring you along you found yourself nodding along! OOPS, what a wild ride it was to meet friends you didn’t even know he had. first, bokuto asked you to help him find some gifts for the exchange parties and you comply— you love thinking up presents for diff kinds of people! “would akaashi want this?” he points at a set of compression socks for sports “you’d want that more, bo” “oh oh!! how about this for kuroo?!” he leads you to the beauty section, hairspray littering the aisle “i think that’s more of an insult than a gift…” he’ll pout at his failure to think of the best gifts for his friends, but you cling to him with your linked arms and tell him not to worry— you kinda figured the kind of people his best friends are, so you suggest things off the bat: film roll for akaashi the photography minor, a mug with a pun-ny chem joke for kuroo, and a new case for kenma’s switch lite!! “wah! you know them better than i do,” he exclaims, eyes shining in excitement as you bring the gifts and other extra stuff to his apartment to help him wrap them. with this, bokuto came up with an idea to wrap the presents in the most creative way possible, and you just stare at him in awe as he tries to disguise the mug as.. a gingerbread man?? you don’t even know how he did it! as you tape up the finishing touches with the others, you eye a small gift wrapped box on the island counter along with a card next to it, all glittery and a name scribbled on top that you can’t make out where you were seated. 
“hey, bo, who’s that for?” you point at the suspecting box, and almost immediately bokuto body slams you on the ground, obstructing your view of the gift. “bokuto i can’t breathe—” you wheeze, laughing at the way he scrambles to get up from the position but his feet slips against the unused wrapping paper on the floor. “sorry, sorry i just— STOP LOOKING” he pleads, caging you with his arms either side your figure. the both of you pause, realizing the predicament you’re in until bokuto unleashes a sly smirk, eyes pointed at you with a mischievous glint. you know that look, so you start wiggling out of his way until he plops down on you again (mind you, he’s MANY inches taller than you and his built...whew, but that’s part of the problem right now!!) and blows raspberries on your neck, the audacity!! “tell me,” he whispers against your ear after a while, voice suddenly low in tone and your senses perk up. “have you been naughty or nice recently?” he continues hoarsely, and it doesn’t take long until you burst out laughing at his attempt of being flirty right now. he finally releases you, feigns hurt from your reaction but he knows what a goofball he is.
anyway, you put all the gifts in the car and head to the many parties he was invited to!! and honestly, you enjoyed yourself albeit it got really tiring to show up with much enthusiasm compared to the last. but bokuto on the other hand never runs out of energy for some reason!! he’s still winning the games, singing his heart out with his friends, and trying all the foods in the potluck, even shamelessly!! feeding you too! it’s embarrassing >< but in a way your heart swells with the thought of bokuto being very openly proud of his relationship with you, and how his friends seem to like you as well! pictures were taken, holiday spirits and gifts were exchanged and finally, he’s free for the night <3 you’ve been waiting for the right moment to give him your personal gift to your boyf (it’s an edited picture of the two of you at one of his winning games!! you can’t draw for sht but you are the best at adding lil stickers and cute petnames all around the photo hehe) you had it inserted in a picture frame too so the gift was relatively medium sized and rectangular. when you crash at his place, you ready yourself to give it to him, having second thoughts with how corny it must seem like… as you psych yourself up on the couch, you feel his arms suddenly wrap themselves around you as he starts peppering your neck with lazy kisses. your chest tightens, eyes closed at the warmth of his lips on your skin but— you can’t get distracted!! “bo, i have something for you—” “i saved the best gift for last—” o, you say it at the same time and so you look at each other with blank stares, and then laugh at your awkwardness!! 
he lets you go first, your nerves slowly dissipating at the excited gleam in his irises, he’s so cute!! as he unwraps it, he hitches a breath, looks at you then the picture and you again and— let’s say your face was just full on bokuto territory only ;-) as much as you were enjoying his attention all on you, his gift wasn’t opened yet!! bokuto went from confident to shy mode again, hiding his face with only one eye peeking out to watch you…. for some reason, since it was a tiny box you blurted out, “don’t tell me it’s a ring, bo.” as a joke but bokuto suddenly freezes at your words. and you had to stop unboxing to make sure he doesn’t go all pale on you, but also??? was he really???? GOING TO???-- “DID YOU WANT ME TO GET YOU A RING?? I CAN RETURN THE EARRINGS TODAY, I THINK I STILL HAVE THE RECEIPT—” “bo, it’s okay!!! omg no T_T” you take his hands off his face to look at him lovingly, a kiss on his pouty lips as you reassure him his presence is all that you can ever want, but whatever it was he gave you, you’ll cherish just the same!! so finally, once you take the lid off the box you see an adorable pair of owl earrings!! it’s so cute and it reminds you of him and thats probably why he got that for you :’)))) “i also wrote you a letter but please read it when i’m asleep or something…” aww shy bokuto!! >< you never thought you’d see the day :’)
kuroo tetsurou
୨୧ ˻˳˯ₑ*॰¨̮  man.. i just know this guy wouldn’t want to let leave… the bed… with him… on christmas day. imagine something like having to stay until he can for his duties at work which ended up til late christmas eve :( you were looking forward to spending time with him back at his hometown since you don’t necessarily celebrate the specific holiday, but being with tetsurou for almost a year now and knowing he does— you wanted it to be special and memorable for him! he felt really bad making you stay at his apartment until he finishes up work, really zooming through all the documents and stuff he needed to complete just so he can spend at least a few hours of christmas eve with you. when he got home, his heart dropped to his stomach at the sight of you falling asleep on the couch, right next to the lit up christmas tree you two decorated a week ago (thats how busy he has been! you opted to fix the tree yourself, but tetsu insisted on doing it together since it’s your first holiday with him!). your favorite blanket was wrapped around you but your feet were dangling midway with no socks on and he just >:( had to carry you to bed and tuck you in— all of you!! 
he changes to a sweater and pjs before readying himself to carry you against his chest. his own body is exhausted from working non-stop, but he doesn’t let it get to him as he passes by the hallway and plops you gently on your side of the bed. you stir groggily, eyes refusing to open but you notice your surroundings are different. the room is dimly lit but the figure walking around the place isn’t amiss; with his hair sticking up and his wide shoulders, you know it’s your tired boyfriend finally home for the holidays. you smile, still sleep-induced but you try to reach over for him. “tetsu… come to bed, please,” you mumble but he hears you, and his back is against you but he smiles at your half-awake tone. “i’ll be right there,” he lets you know softly, and true to his word you feel the dip in the mattress with his warmth slowly exuding onto your own body, his hands easily finding themselves over you. you wiggle into his grasp, head against his chest and hands holding onto his waist. he feels warm, he feels like home, and you press a kiss where his neck meets his collarbones. “mm, merry christm…” you mutter, losing consciousness but he doesn’t mind. he lets you snore your way into dreamland, watching your eyelashes tickle the surface of your skin, lips partly open as you breathe in and out. suddenly, his tense muscles relax with your presence oh so close to you, and he sleeps soundly after a few minutes of admiring your face.
as the sunlight filters thru the windows, kuroo wakes up first but knowing it’s his day off (finally), he relaxes into the bed and just observes the tiny details of your face, same as the night before but with some of the brightly shining rays of the sun hitting the right spots— you’re breathtaking to him. he feels you stir in his embrace so he pretends to snore because he knows you like to get up as soon as you feel awake. “tetsu…” you mumble, popping out your head from his grasp to peer your eyes at him pretending to not hear you. “you’re a lousy liar, i know you’re up,” you tell him, rubbing your nose against him as a form of an eskimo kiss. it takes so much out of his restraint to bite his lip in pure love for you, so he gives in and kisses you on the lips. 
you are taken aback for a split second until you comply to his request, and you spend your first christmas morning with him in bed just like that <3 he still asks if you guys can spend the whole day just tangled into each other’s embrace but you lecture him playfully, knowing that he had a christmas party to attend to in the afternoon with his closest friends (bokuto, akaashi, kenma, and others) and you have a lovely dinner planned in the evening. he wiggles his eyebrows, fingertips tracing the exposed skin on your chest, “what if we skip all of that and i just have you for dinner instead?” “KUROO TETSUROU IT IS TOO EARLY FOR YOU TO SAY THAT RIGHT NOW—” you swear to god, it is his teasing and malicious intent that will kill you one day. but the blush on your face doesn’t go unnoticed, and yet kuroo complies with your light nagging, getting up and getting ready for the day. you’re happy that he finally has the day off, and being with his friends during the party truly lightened up his mood. afterwards, he then asks where you got a reservation during the busiest time of the year, and you just winked at him and zipped your mouth. 
since you ate a bit at the party, you knew you had some time to finish prepping the food you had prepared the night before, it all just needed to bake or be cooked on the pan. and bec of his exhaustion last night, he didn’t even open the fridge at all so there were zero suspicious at your surprise dinner. urging him to take a long, hot bath, he drags you with him. “you seriously want me to take a bath by myself?” he says in shock horror, and normally you would join him hah but you tell him that your parents are calling, just wanting to say hello. a little sad, kuroo nods in understanding and so he goes about his way while you cook the food with haste. he likes to take his time in there but you know you won’t finish beforehand, so once he’s out of the bathroom, you immediately go right in front of him to hide the view of the kitchen. you played yourself, seeing kuroo only in his bathrobe with his chest exposed, you slap him right at the center to ignore the sensation in the pit of your stomach. “what?? what’d i do???” “existing right in front of me like that!!” kuroo laughs at your embarrassment, but kisses you on the forehead nonetheless. he ignores the obvious smell of pasta and chicken in the apartment, ignores the messy apron you forgot to take off because he thinks you really wanted to surprise him. so he goes to the room to change, thinking about how lucky he is to have you in his life. the rest of the night ends up with the both of you having a romantic dinner in the dining room, talking about everything you already know about each other—but it never feels repetitive. he always feels so renewed with you, falling in love every day. 
31 notes · View notes
Text
Beyond the Summary
So here’s the thing. The Story Summary came out and everyone on Twitter is roasting it for not being a real story. However, aside from one or two plot points (which I will identify in a second), a lot of people seem to be missing just how... rushed and plothole dense the story is? So, in order to properly address this, I’ve compiled this little list of grievances regarding the story in and of itself, regardless of the way it’s been “told”.
 There were a few additional plot points that I personally felt didn’t make much sense, but which, ironically, could if they were developed well, which of course they will not be. I’m going to go in order with the Summary. Let’s get this over with, shall we?
Tumblr media
-me after reading the Story Summary, 2019
Before the gods of Theros rose to power, the titans—horrific primal urges made flesh—roamed the mortal realm, sowing death and destruction in their wake.
Let’s get this out of the way immediately: yes, the titans make sense from a Plot perspective, but hey, did you know? Despite being represented on the cards, in the story they actually DO NOT BREAK FREE and are irrelevant! They are simply a plot device to introduce Klothys! The conflict of THB is unrelated to them! (Also, there are only 2 of them, which I find kind of weird but whatever)
Klothys, the god of fate, volunteered to act as jailer and sequestered herself in the Underworld for eternity.
Ok, clever way to introduce the new god, except for the fact that we’ve been told in the past that the Gods of Theros require constant devotion/followers or they will lose power/cease to exist. How did Klothys avoid this fate?
Ashiok's visions are more real than most, and in one of them, Elspeth seized Heliod's spear Khrusor. When the vision had passed, a twisted version of the spear remained, dripping with darkness and power.
For this to happen, it would have to be intentional on Ashiok’s part. It might be, but it’s weird to omit that. What were their intentions in granting Elspeth that spear? 
Secondly, Ashiok learned of the Phyrexians' existence and promptly planeswalked away to learn more of these true living nightmares.
Ashiok is the type of person that plans miles ahead. If they gave Elspeth the spear intentionally to wreak chaos, do they not care to see what happens next? And what happened to all their plans regarding Theros and the nature of the gods and belief? I can understand they’d be very interested in Phyrexia, but it seems weird to just drop everything and go.
And when gods clash, mortals suffer the consequences. One such consequence took the form of rifts to the Underworld from which countless monsters poured forth. Erebos, the god of the Underworld, was consumed by this conflict. He hated Heliod most of all, and in his rage, he neglected to keep a tight grip on the souls under his purview. News travels fast, even in the afterlife, and Elspeth heard talk of rifts to the mortal realm. Realizing her work in the Multiverse was not yet done, Elspeth gripped her shadow spear and headed toward a hidden exit in Erebos's palace—but she wasn't the only one seeking escape.
This whole paragraph is... oof. The rifts are a super convenient plot device, not to mention Erebos’s slight mischaracterization. The whole image of Elspeth just up-and-leaving the realm of death is pretty funny, I have to say.
Klothys was furious. When Xenagos attempted to take her place in the pantheon, she was understandably upset.
I’m sorry, her place in the pantheon? Yes they both fall under Gruul colors but not only does the pantheon not have a finite number of spots, Xenagos became the God of Revels, that has nothing to do with Destiny. Also, Klothys made the decision to remain to seal the Titans, remember? She had no followers.
As Elspeth headed toward freedom, she gathered allies. Along her journey, she faced many battles and powerful foes, and she fought them all off. After each victory, she raised her spear high and proclaimed: "Behold, the true Khrusor! Heliod wields a fake!"
Aside from being salty at the fact that we’re just going to leave Elspeth’s struggles at the generic “many battles and powerful foes” (Who? Why? Where? How? When?), keep in mind that we are still in the Underworld for this part of the story. So the faith she is supposedly gathering for herself/the weapon by proclaiming its true nature to, I guess, random people that were hanging around while she beat up her foes (unless you’re telling me she gathered an army, which raises way more questions) (which will be relevant in a second) comes from Returned, not living denizens. That raises so many questions I think I’m just going to move on to the next part.
She also clashed repeatedly with Calix, emerging victorious every time. After all, she was a seasoned warrior, and he was freshly made. But with each battle, Calix did a little better—he was learning his foe as he learned himself.
This part might be the one that irks me the most, to be honest. As previously stated, Elspeth has defeated many powerful foes. This Calix guy, who is a masterwork of sentient mana-construct created by Klothys, wants to return her to her place in the underworld. So first of all, he finds her, ok, that I can accept. And then...? They fight. So Elspeth beats him up and leaves him alive? Or does he make a daring escape? Because they “clash repeatedly”. Did they just agree to meet every day at the same hour? Why does Calix not play it smart and ambush her if he can track her so well? Why does Elspeth not kill this severe threat to her mission? Wh- you know what, let’s just move onward.
Heliod stood in Elspeth's way, refusing her passage out of the Underworld. She could not be allowed to escape. She would be the end of him. She was the cause of all this. Ranting under his breath, he charged Elspeth with his spear Khrusor . . . which promptly shattered in his hands. For each time Elspeth repeated that her shadowspear was the true Khrusor, the onlooker souls believed her. And it was the power of that belief, that devotion, that caused her lie to simply become truth. Staring down the point of a spear that was no longer his, Heliod yielded.
Heliod’s descent into paranoia is actually something I really regret not being able to see in full (must’ve been some powerful paranoia indeed since it made him wage a solo war against ALL the other gods). What I’m going to point out is that Elspeth’s plan... works. Really? You managed to gather so much faith (again, from dead Therosians) that you managed to surpass the unofficial Main God of this world and his very much official Khrushor to become fake? I mean I know Ajani and the leonin did their fair share of spreading doubts regarding Heliod (speaking of, where the hell is Ajani for the events of this set?), but I really have a hard time seeing how Heliod loses this battle even though he is the one that started the conflict, yes Therosians may begin to turn against him but to lose their faith completely... I’m not sold. Also, Heliod just gives up? Damn, this dude started an entire war based on the fear he might be replaced and then when a mortal challenges him, he yields. This is a god that has erased entire cities from existence!
Erebos simply took the defeated sun god and placed him beneath a giant boulder, where he would suffer for all eternity, or until he was forgotten by his worshippers above. As for Elspeth, Erebos gifted her his eternal gratitude—and safe passage back to the mortal realm.
Like a random boulder? A boulder big enough to be a nuisance to a god? And why can’t Heliod just move? It’s not like he has the responsibility to hold up the heaves/surface/underworld, it’s literally just a boulder. Also, reminder that Heliod is the most venerated/important god on Theros. The fact that he is so nonchalantly removed from his duties and placed under punishment is downright absurd! Especially since the whole Xenagos thing was a huge controversy among the gods, who are, in a wonderful metaphor of the capitalist status quo by the way, way more interested in preserving their collective status as deities than actually going after the other gods, despite being rivals (it is canon that they have technically agreed not only not to harm each other but also to not interfere directly with each other’s affairs on the surface). Also, he’s alive! Who will take his place as God of the sun/day/light/whatever? Sure generations would forget him eventually but for the meantime, Therosians will just live on with no deity of so many important things? What? WHAT
After a brief reunion with Daxos, Elspeth planeswalked away.
Oh ok. So Elspeth is finally free, meets up with her lover, who has been transformed into a demi-god (is it reversible? Is he sentient? What happens to him now that Heliod has been defeated?), chats, and then leaves. How was their reunion? What did they say? Can Daxos be saved? Is he gonna be a regular Therosian now? Do they care about each other anymore? Does Elspeth get the catharsis/absolution she craves for being manipulated into killing him? Guess we don’t care, huh.
Calix looked on, his very being in agony. It was his purpose to return Elspeth to where she belonged, and now he could no longer reach her. But in his darkest hour, a strange idea sparked within him—and he simply planeswalked after her.
And finally, the line most people have been nitpicking on (for good reason). Calix is a freaking “created being”, which according to MtG rules, should NOT be able to innately possess a spark! What’s going on, huh? We’ve been bending “spark rules” for a while now (Jiang Yanggu and Mowu, the Royal Scions, Kaya’s ABSURD ability to transport non-planeswalkers to other planes) but this is a straight-up break. Also I love the “Rip to your mana construct but I would simply planeswalk” memes people have made about this, but one more thing. Did Calix miss the part where Erebos says Elspeth is free to go? What would happen if he brought her back, huh? “Oh no man don’t worry, she’s good”. Even if Calix believes Klothys’s will is more important than Erebos’s (if Klothys even still wants Elspeth back in the underworld after Erebos pardones her), how does he think he’s going to get her to stay there if Erebos doesn’t want her? Just gonna straight-up kill her? And again I ask, WHY didn’t Elspeth kill this guy? ARGH
Tumblr media
-a visual metaphor of being a Vorthos right now
That concludes... whatever the heck this was. Thank you for listening and if you have any comments or additions, please let me know. I will say one thing: it is terribly ironic that the world that first sparked my interest for both writing and the magic story by kicking off the “golden age of mtg story” is also the one where the story is reduced to random blurbs on cards and whatever this garbage fire was. Truly a sad day for all of us. 
59 notes · View notes
Text
Episode 1: Started with a bang      
Tumblr media
             
                    RAVNEET
It was all finally happening. I was finally going to do it. I was finally going to have sex. So, anyway, while we were making out I picked her up and took her to the room. I had no Idea that I was capable of that. God, I like her so much. I didn't expect this to happen. My heart was pounding and I was getting harder. We were laying in bed. Her imperfectly perfect body was on top of me and we were kissing ever so passionately. I was overwhelmed with joy. It felt like my heart, my mind and my soul were releasing large amounts of dopamine. My hands were under her t-shirt and I could feel her warm skin. I never knew a touch could feel so good. We were constantly nibbling on each other’s lips and there was affection all around when all of a sudden she gently pulled away. “Are you ready Garlic?” she asked me . I don't why she calls me that, but it's kinda hot. I looked at her, smiling, and scratched her back to signal a yes.
She gracefully made her way to my torso with her lips and went down on me. She traced my body with her tongue while I untied my sweat pants and pulled them off for her. I was confused, but I was too mesmerised to realise anything. She touched me gently and asked me if I had a condom. I immediately rolled off the bed and reached for my drawer. I was so glad James gave me that condom that day. I was trying to slip it on while walking back towards the bed when I suddenly tripped on my underwear and fell right to the ground and banged my head. I cannot begin to explain, the embarrassment was more painful than the fall. Arya exclaimed, “Oh shit... Ravneet!! Are you alright?” She got down from the bed and right sat next to me. She kissed my forehead and asked me if I needed anything. But all I could see was the concern she had for me in her beautiful eyes. I could adore her all day. But, My insecurity popped out
“You don't think it's small right?” 
“What ?”
I coughed and looked down.
“Oh my god shut the fuck up”
And before I even knew it, we were making out right there on the ground. She took all her clothes off. I looked at her and gulped nervously. She pulled me closer and put me over her. I was so nervous. My feelings for her were so pure. I didn't know if it was the right time. But then who said that sex needs to be scheduled? Or who said that it's not pure? I took a few deep breaths and was ready to make love to her. The moment I put it in, she moaned and put her hand on my chest asking me to stop.. I freaked out. I immediately pulled out and sat up. “Jesus Christ, I'm so sorry Arya. I really like you. I didn't mean to hurt you. God I shouldn' t ha.." She interrupted me saying “Just come here.” She pulled me close to her bare chest. She hugged me tight. I felt a thunder pass through my spine. She pulled out a sharpener from under the bed and threw it at the switch. Once the room was dark she said goodnight Garlic, kissed me on the forehead and fell asleep. We cuddled all night long and, honestly, that was probably better than sex.
This can give me butterflies in my stomach for an entire lifetime. I hardly kissed a girl before this. I fantasized about kissing Arya so many times, but never thought it would come true. Never. But I really hope this wasn't a one time thing you know. 
                          ARYA
Oof! It didn't feel right. I mean I like him, but that didn't feel right. But on the other hand, the cuddling. That shit was heavenly. When I woke up that morning I stared at him, while he slept, for a whole hour. So adorable. So cute. So handsome. So h.. uh ho. I don't know about that one. That's probably why I said stop. Attraction is there for sure. It's romantic for Sure. I loved kissing him. But sexual... not yet. And honestly, I'm fine without the sex. He woke up, saw me and screamed like a fucking bat. I DID NOT understand the emotion behind that scream, but I knew how to calm him down. I always do. I put my palms on his shoulders and screamed 
“ SHUT THE FUCK UP RAVNEET” He stopped screaming and looked at me in relief. He said “l'm so sorry about last night Ar” I told him to shut the fuck up and kissed him on his lips. I could feel the butterflies in that little bitch's stomach. I was probably his first kiss, “Imma head out Garlic”
“oh yeah for sure”
We got out of the blankets and put our clothes on. He tied my shoes on to my feet. The moment I exited the door, I saw his room mates chilling. They seemed pretty chill. I mean he always talked really well of them. They looked really nonchalant to my existence at that point, but I'm sure they had a million questions pop up in their minds. "This is Arya guys" said my boy Ravneet. They all smiled and said Hi to me. They looked hella cute. I said hi and looked at them. After a few seconds of awkward silence I said "Okay guys nice seeing you bye bye!!" . I literally ran out and Ravneet chased me.
Ravneet offered to walk me to my dorm, but I was fine ...I guess. I don't think he has to walk me half a mile and then walk back again. I wouldn't do that for him. When I was walking up to my apartment, I noticed a fat-ass hydro flask flying towards my head, but it was too late. God damn!! it hurt! I looked up to my apartment. Fucking Rebecca. Her patience level is so near to 0. 
“ Oh! He isn't asking me out. He probably just wants to hangout. Huh? I don't like him in that way! Huh? You fucked right didn't you?”
She screamed from the balcony.
“what the fuck is wrong with you Becca”
“Oh Shit! I'm so sorry. Now get your ass up here. and get the flask"
“ Dafaq! ”
When I went upstairs to her, she held my shoulders with both her hands and said “you fucked right?” I very confusingly said 
                         “Not exactly”
                      RAVNEET
                   “Technically yes”
“this guy!! Give me a yes or a no” Pourush replied. I explained everything to Pourush and David. Every detail. "Hmm!! That truly is technically yes" David expressed. I was so confused. Am I not virgin anymore or am I still virgin? Lord knows. Pourush asked me if she knows that I like her. I gave him an 'obviously' nod. "But the real question, my friend Ravneet,  does she like you?". Thinking about that. She never told me that she liked me. But that look in her eyes meant something for sure. But, did it?? This is the problem.The assumptions. I over analyse, over fantasize, and over think. All of this hardly makes the situation any better. All I ever have to do is talk. I really believe that if you need to tell something, you should tell it. And if you need to ask something, you should ask it. Even if you know the answer (just for confirmation). I am so confident while I give this advice out, but when it comes to following it myself.....I turn into a squirrel being chased by a Doberman.
I decided that I'll be a man and talk. I whipped my phone out and started to type. After typing a whole paragraph, I backspaced all that honesty out. I typed another paragraph with a few filters and a little less honesty. I backspaced that too. I repeated this process of typing and backspacing for a good amount of time; a full 4 day weekend to be more accurate. I felt like banging myself with a hammer. I could have texted her a 'hi' at least. Anyways, what's done is done. I'll meet her in class tomorrow and say what I need to say and ask what I need to ask. 
I Hate myself!! 4 days??
                               ARYA
FOUR FUCKING DAYS!!!!! It's been 4 fucking days and that little bitch hasn't texted me yet. What if he's one of those fuck boys who fuck off even before fucking. Naah!! He's too sweet to be that. Then why the fuck is he not texting??? Probably cause he's a pussy. What if he's waiting for me to text first?
                           RAVNEET
You know what... I don't need to stress or text. I always text her first, and sometimes she just leaves me on seen. I think I deserve to be texted first. But we're not committed. I don't even know if she likes me.
      I've always believed that if I ever get action, it would be through love. Not love exactly, but....you know what I mean. Cause I know that I'm not an objectively attractive looking guy. Yeah, I'm cute and all. But so is Ralph. Oh!! Ralph is Pourush's Labrador. He's a cute chap. Anyways, the point is I'd be heartbroken if her attraction is only physical. 
                       
          Hope she makes it to class tomorrow.
EPISODE 2 on 29 March
1 note · View note
bloodpacks-archive · 5 years
Text
in love
Word Count: 2.6k oof
Summary: It’s the beginnings of their love story, with the little moments that matter.
Warnings: none this is 2.6k of FLUFF
Note: im BACK with another fic based off of a taylor swift song. This one is you are in love!! also i think this is like, some of my best writing if I’m honest, so I really hope you enjoy it!
Tumblr media
It’s a Friday night that he hadn’t expected to turn out this well. She’s walking next to him, her coat pulled tight around her to keep out the crisp autumn air. Her hands are stuffed in her pockets, but she’s got this gorgeous smile on her face, and he tries to ignore the fact that he certainly looks the same. His cheeks hurt from how much he’s been laughing, and he doesn’t even mind the cold.
He’s been friends with her for what seems like forever, watching her give him polite, pretty smiles, and gracing him with gorgeous fits of laughter. In all reality, he hadn’t ever expected to go out with her, to have her say yes to him of all people. He should’ve known that once she did, it would’ve been just like this. Out in the freezing cold, but warm with laughter.
“Hey, there’s a coffee place over there, wanna go get something?” She asks, and he really likes the way her voice sounds. He wonders how she can make the most mundane of sentences seem like a proposition for an adventure. It’s been much too long since he’s had a first date go like this, and he feels helpless around her. He looks over to where she’s pointing, and sees a tiny shop, only lit up by the lights inside and the small neon “open” sign that’s sitting just outside. Tom nods, and she grabs his arm, pulling him over to the warmth of the coffee shop.
They step inside, gladly enveloped by the smell of coffee. She stands next to him, looking up at the menu, and there’s this little smile that still remains on her face. It’s just barely there, but it’s enough to give her this happy look that makes him want to wrap his arms around her.
“What do you want?” She looks over at him, and her eyes are bright.
“I’ll just get a cappuccino or something. Tell me your order and you can get us a place to sit?” He asks, and she gives him a roll of her eyes. His heart stops for a moment before he hears the laugh cross her lips.
“You’re just gonna try to pay for everything!” She says, and she’s joking, but that was his plan. “You paid for dinner, let me get these two coffees, okay?”
Tom’s hesitant, giving her a look before she raises her eyebrows at him and tilts her head at him. He laughs and shakes his head before heading over to the booths.
When she returns with her tea and his coffee, there’s an immediate sense of brightness that surrounds the two of them. He finds that he enjoys it much more than he may have originally anticipated.
When they leave, he’s much warmer than he was before, and the air seems only colder. But, she’s a bit closer than before. Their arms are brushing as they walk, and every time they do his heart skips a beat. He looks up, and the sky’s gone dark, and he can’t see the stars because of New York City’s own lights, but he doesn’t mind much. After all, he’s got the girl with the brightest smile he’s ever seen walking right next to him.
He walks her back to her apartment building, and they stand in front of each other as they stand before her door. Both of her hands are reaching up to play with one of the buttons on his coat, and he knows he has this look on his face that says everything that he’s thinking at that moment. He knows that it shows how much he wants to kiss her, even if she can’t read it.
She’s the one that finally pulls him in, giving him a quick kiss before turning back and opening her door. She waves at him, and then she disappears behind it. He still has the feeling of her lips on his.
—————
It’s only a few months later when he wakes up to the feeling of her head on his chest. Sunlight drips in through the blinds, painting her face in golden light. Her hair’s all tangled, and he’s sure that his is just as much of a mess, but he’s beyond glad to be here to see her like this. He reaches a hand up, pushing a piece of hair out of her face. She just barely leans into his touch, even in her sleep, and it makes his heart beat just a bit faster. Her eyes flutter open a bit, and then he’s met with her gorgeous eyes, the sunlight hitting them in the sweetest of ways, making her squint.
“Morning,” He says, his voice rough with sleep. She moves closer to him, burying her face in his neck and groaning.
“It’s too bright,” She replies. He laughs, and she finds a way to move even closer to him, her arms wrapping around him.
“You’re the one who was supposed to shut the blinds last night.” Tom’s now playing with her hair, curling strands around his fingers before letting them fall back into place.
“Shut up.” Her voice is muffled, tickling his neck. They fall back into silence, Tom still playing with her hair while her breath evens out again, curled into him as tightly as she could possibly be.
“We should get up and make breakfast, don’t you think?” Tom whispers, gently rubbing her shoulder to wake her up a bit more. She hums, loosening her grip on him to turn onto her back.
“The bed’s warm though,” She replies. Tom laughs again, turning so that he can press a kiss to the top of her head.
“I’ll make you tea if you get up.” Her eyes look over to him at that, and a smile finds its way onto his face. “Come on,” Tom says, sitting up. She gives him a look, so Tom grabs her hand and pulls her up with him.
It’s after they both brush their teeth that they find their way into the kitchen. She pops some bread into the toaster, and Tom starts on making them tea. He’s sorting through the tea bags when she comes up behind him, her arms wrapping around his waist and her chin resting delicately on his shoulder.
“What type of tea are you thinking?” She asks him, her voice soft and sweet. She presses her lips to his jaw for just a moment, and for a second, he forgets that he’s supposed to be looking at tea.
“English Breakfast, of course,” He answers. He turns around in her arms, placing his hands on her waist. She hums in agreement, and then she leans in to press a kiss to his lips, and he can’t help the smile that crosses his face. There’s a certain set of words that come to mind in that moment, and they catch him off guard for a second. He pushes them to the side, and instead turns back around take the now-whistling kettle off the stove.
That morning, she had accidentally burnt their toast. He had laughed about it, saying that he liked it that way anyway as she cut up an avocado. He tries not to think about how perfect everything is in their little sliver of bliss.
—————
He comes home that night to her sitting on his couch. Her laptop rests on her legs, the screen lighting up her face as she writes onto endless pages. A blanket is wrapped around her shoulders, and a newly made cup of tea sits on a coaster in front of her.
Her head turns at the sound of the door opening, her face lighting up a bit when she sees him home. He walks over to the couch, sitting down next to her and laying his head on her shoulder. His hand finds hers, and he brings it up to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to the back of her hand before he sets it back down.
“How’s writing going today?” He asks. She lets out a sigh, tapping her fingers against the keyboard without typing a word.
“Not well.”
“You know what might help?” Tom turns his head so he can look her in the eye, and from just a second’s glance he can tell that she’s barely able to keep her eyes open.
“I don’t want to go to bed without writing another paragraph,” She says.
“Then why don’t you take a quick break?”
“What if I fall asleep and then I don’t finish that-“
“I won’t let you fall asleep quite yet, how does that sound?” Tom’s got this look in his eyes, where he’s coming up with something and she’s entirely happy to follow his lead. So Tom stands up, setting her laptop on the coffee table, and he offers a hand to her. She laughs at him, shaking her head a bit.
“We don’t even have any music, Tom.”
“We don’t need any.”
She gets this smile on her face, the prettiest one he’s ever seen, and shrugs the blanket off of her shoulders as she grabs his hand. Tom pulls her up, and slowly, he starts to twirl her around.
They dance in a circle around their living room, moonlight seeping in through curtains to reflect on the necklace that hangs off of her neck, and that same moonlight gives her a heavenly glow, one that he hopes he can remember for forever. Their quiet laughter, the hum of the apartment, and the soft sounds of traffic outside act as their music, and although it’s choppy, they manage to find a rhythm to it.
He looks over her, and notices the shirt that hangs just a bit too big on her, and he laughs.
“What?” She asks, her eyebrows furrowing and her head tilting a bit to the side.
“Is that my shirt?” Tom gets this smile on his face, a bit crooked, and a bit teasing, and he tries to ignore the way that she turns her head downward just a bit at his question.
“Yeah, is that okay?”
“It’s more than okay.” Tom let’s the smile take over his face when she looks back up at him, a cute smile on her face and her eyes bright.
Those words pop into his head again, and he almost finds himself saying them. But then her eyes start to fall shut, her head leaning so it can rest on his shoulder, and he just takes in everything.
“Do you still wanna finish that paragraph?” He asks. She shakes her head, falling a bit more into him. He lets a soft laugh fall past his lips, and he leads her back into his room, which, if he’s honest, has turned a bit into their room.
They both sit down on the bed, her head leaning on his shoulder.
“I’m tired now,” She whispers.
“Really? I had absolutely no idea,” He teases. She lightly hits the side of his arm, and he laughs just a bit. In that moment, those words are all that he can think of. When she turns to get up to brush her teeth, all he can think of is saying them. Saying that she’s- she’s all he wants.
When they’re laying in bed, his arms wrapped around her and her head laying on his chest, he thinks about it again.
“You know you’re my best friend, right?” Tom asks. She hums, rubbing soft circles onto the palm of his hand.
“Don’t tell Harrison that,” She replies. Tom breathes out a laugh, shaking his head a bit. I love you, he thinks.
“He might kill me if he ever finds out.” She looks up at him after he says that, and she gets this look on her face, one that he can’t quite place. I love you.
“Wanna know what I was trying to write today?” She asks. Tom looks down at her, gets this look on his face, because of course he wants to know. He would listen to every bit of her stories for every moment of his day if he could.
“What?” She lays her head back on his chest, continues to trace those patterns onto his palm as she speaks.
“I was writing the part with the love story,” She starts. Tom plays with her fingers, interrupting her pattern, and she gives him a look. He smiles at her before allowing her to continue rubbing those little circles into his palm.
“What about the love story part?”
“Well, it was hard to write, I guess.” She looks up at him again, and then she looks to their hands. “Do you know what it feels like to be so in love with someone that everything they do is like the greatest thing you’ve ever seen?”
“Yeah, yeah, I’ve had something like that,” Tom replies. Only with you is what he thinks. She smiles at him, and she gets this look on her face again.
“I guess it’s a bit difficult to write something like that. To write about someone being so in love that it’s almost sickening. But these two characters, they’d do anything for each other. I mean, she’s in love with him, and him with her.” Tom thinks for a moment, and then he just hums  a response. He knows what it’s like to be that character, thinking the I love you moment over and over in his head.
Suddenly, it’s that I love you moment that’s taking over him.
“Sorry, I’m rambling, aren’t I?” She says.
“It’s okay, I like the sound of your voice.” I love you.
“There’s no way that you find all of this interesting.”
“You know I kind of act out these kinds of characters for a living, right?” I love you.
“Oh shut up, you’re too fancy for me.”
“That’s absolutely impossible. You’re the fancy writer.” I’m in love with you.
“Not being published yet? Oh yeah, that’s real fancy.”
“I’ve read bits of your book. Trust me, it’ll get published.” I am so in love with you.
“I’ll let you read all of it when it’s done.”
“How gracious of you,” Tom teases her, laughing when she narrows her eyes at him. I cannot believe how much I love you.
A silence finally settles between them, and she’s moved her patterns to his chest. He can’t tell what she’s tracing, but it’s a shape of some kind, over and over again. Everything within him is screaming to tell her. He feels like it’ll spill at any moment and he’s not even sure when else would be a better time.
“Wanna know something?” He asks. You’re the most amazing person I’ve ever met, and I love you.
“Of course I do,” She replies, still tracing that shape onto his chest. I am so fucking in love with you.
“I’m in love with you.” His heart stutters the moment he says it, and she looks up at him, her chin now propped on his chest to get a better look at his face. It takes her a moment, but then her face lights up in a big, bright smile.
“Wanna know something about me?” She asks. Tom can’t help the laugh that passes his lips.
“Of course I do.” I’m beyond in love with you.
“I’m in love with you too,” She whispers, and then she leans up, pressing her lips to his. The smile that takes over Tom’s face is one that she won’t ever forget.
Tag List! Send me an ask if you want to be added!
@its-obrosey-bitch / @timelord-sorcerer / @amarokofficial / @ultrunning / @ocaptainmycaptainrogers / @hi-mishamigos / @irndad / @tonysangels / @holly192 / @cinnamon-roll-parker / @nasa-parker / @dandelittlelion / @tomshufflepuff / @bucky-smiles/ @delicately-written / @shakespeare-and-shenanigans / @mismatchingsocks / @ggukinn / @peterparkerandtessaholland / @smexylemon / @toxicated-mami / @savethehoneeybees / @theouternetisscary2 / @tiny-friggin-human / @yourwonderbelle / @crimsonredcoco / @evelyn120700 / @spideys-gurl / @musiclover1263 / @spidey-writey / @tiny-friggin-human
Tags not working? Only want to be tagged in certain fics? Tell me!
414 notes · View notes
debbstepps · 5 years
Text
Orphic & Petrichor chpt 2 prt. 1
Hey all, it’s me, I’m back. 
sorry
so this is chapter two of Orphic, and I don’t know why I gave individual titles for each chapter but oh well.....
but anywayssss here is chapter 2 of Orphic called “Petrichor”. 
Why? idk. this is part 1 because I didn't finish it when I was in high school. 
Sooooo, spelling errors? yes. Mistakes? yes. anything else to look forward to so you don't get confused? maybe, yes. 
the second part is my more recent wrting style. hopefully you’ll see the difference in the next update.
hope you enjoy1!!1
(why did Tumblr remove the paragraph break thingy or is it just me?)
here’s chapter 1:
oof
________________________________________ 
It was around dusk, the sun just barely rising.
I had readied the horses that we will be traveling on (I felt a carriage would be too grand and obvious), so I go to the prince’s room. I knock on the door a few times. I hear a shuffling of feet, a few furniture being bumped into, the prince mumbling profanity.
The prince must be sleepily awake.
“Prince, are you alive in there?” I whisper into the door.
The feet shuffling stops for a brief moment. I listen a little longer and hear the feet come closer to the door. I take a step back and watch the handle turn to the left. The door cracks open and I see the prince’s blue eyes glaring at me. Typical.
“Good morning, your highness,” I bow slightly, “Are you ready for the voyage that awaits you?” I give him a fake smile, one that is sure to upset him.
The prince grumbles under his breath and opens the door wider for me to come in.
He looks like a snow monster from those classic story tales.
Hair disheveled, falling into his eyes, which, speaking of, have bags underneath them. His robe is sliding off his right shoulder and one leg of his night garment climbing up his knee.
“Your Highness, may I advise not to wrestle grizzly bears at night. It is bad for your complexion”, I joke.
He glares daggers my way, and I put my hands up in defense.
“What is wrong, young prince, no feelings of jesting? Is this not what you always do to the other servants and maids of the palace? I was sure to put on my best fancy pants”, I snicker under my breath.
This time, the prince doesn’t react. He rolls his eyes and wobbles his way to the bathroom. I hear water rushing, and contemplate whether to help him bathe.
I think not. The prince is already mad at me.
After a few minutes, say like, an hour or so, I regret my decision.
What is he doing in there? Surely he knows if we don’t leave before the sun rises, we’re sure to get caught.
I walk towards the bathroom door, careful not to interrupt the prince in his business. When I get there, the door is ajar.
Well, I’ll be, what seems to be going on here?
I enter and see that the prince’s robe he wore earlier, is sliding off the toilet seat. His night slippers are stationed underneath the sink cabinet.
Good heaven’s above, what could he be doing?
I take a few steps closer towards the bathtub. The curtains are drawn, so all I can see is the prince’s silhouette, laying in the bath.
Oh how cumbersome.
I draw them back a little bit, careful not to see his whole body, just his head. I peek through and gasp.
He’s asleep!?
Soft mumbles escape his mouth. I really, really want to strangle him. How could he sleep when we’re supposed to be going on a trip? Does he not know the consequences if we get caught? Does he think that his high princely status will let him off the hook? Certainly Not!
I shake his shoulder a little bit, “Your Highness, you must wake up. You’ve been here far too long and if we don’t- “
“Just go on without me, n’ leave me to my rest” the prince mumbles under his breath.
Oh, for the love of Mary.
I drag him out of the bath (thanking God he wrapped a towel around his lower half) and leave him on his rug. I nudge him a few times with my feet, and when I see that he’s somewhat awake, start carrying his bags out.
The prince packed two full bags. One filled with his personal belongings, the other, with money, just as I had told him too. I bring two bags too. One with my personal belongings, the other empty. Just in case.
I enter the prince’s room and see that he is fully dressed. The shocked expression appearing on my face cannot be hidden.
“Butler, you hurt me with your facial expressions” the prince states.
“Only because you behave like an animal” I retort. The prince only smiles and ties his hair into a small tail.
“Are we going to eat breakfast?”
“Do we have time for that?”
“Oh…. I guess not…..How cumbersome”.
It is only cumbersome because someone fell asleep in their bathtub.
I escort the prince out and towards the stables where the horses are already set to depart.
I take a look over at the castle. The only safe place for the prince.
From here on out, I’ll be the one protecting him. Is that even the butler's job?
That question was answered almost immediately, or at least I thought.
“Your Highness!!” a voice calls out from yonder, their voice bouncing off the stable walls.
“Did you request guards, your highness?” I question, looking over to where he is stationed on his horse. He shakes his head.
“Of course not, where would be the fun in that?”. I act as if I didn’t hear what he said and turn to the voice.
I mean, it is for your safety, but oh well!
The guard reaches us, breathing heavily. He stands straight and salutes the prince. The prince simply nods.
“Is something wrong? Did father tell you to come with us?” the prince inquires.
“Uh not really, I just have something to give to you,” he reaches for a bag that was dangling from his shoulder strap, and brings a parcel out of it, “one of the dishwasher boys asked me to give this to you. He uh…. Just here”. He hands me the parcel and I take it.
It was probably Chip that sent him. That guy, always worrying about everything.
I shake my head slightly at the thought and thank the guard for coming all the way here to deliver it.
“Ah, it is not a problem. Chip’s kind of like a baby brother to me. Couldn’t say no to him” he chuckles at the last comment.
The guard wishes us a safe journey and retreats.
“What is in the parcel butler? It looks interesting. Is it for you?” the prince questions and I shrug.
“Couldn’t care less honestly” was all I could reply to him. The prince stares at the parcel a bit longer.
“Do you want it?” I ask him.
“Nah, it is most likely for you. No one in that damn castle is sane enough to give me a gift in that wrapping and manner. I prefer my presents given face to face” he says arrogantly.
I roll my eyes and get on my horse. I gently kick the side of the horse as a signal to start going.
“Your Highness, let us get a move on, we don’t want to arrive at the village with people around. It would raise suspicion” I say sternly. The prince shrugs his shoulders and rides ahead. I follow stealthily behind.
 ***
As we were galloping down the path that’s leading us to the village, the prince began complaining.
Typical.
I honestly can’t believe that it took him this long to complain about something.
“Butler, my butt hurts” the prince whined.
“What do you mean “your butt hurts”? We’re sitting on saddles” I declare, but then I look at where the prince’s tush is seated on.
“Where is your saddle!!?” I screeched.
“Well……. I got sidetracked and forgot to get the saddle and put it on the horse” he muttered under his breath, a slight smile playing in his lips. He avoids eye contact.
He better.
I pinch the bridge of my nose and sigh. I cannot believe he forgot his saddle.
How can someone who has ridden on a horse his whole life, forget about a saddle!?
I stop the horse from trotting any further and get off it. I unclip the saddle that is on my horse and walk towards the prince, where he and his horse is stationed.
“Your Highness, have my saddle”. The prince gets off his horse and watches me place the saddle on it. I feel his eyes survey all my movements.
When I finish, I wipe the sweat forming on my forehead. I motion for the prince to get on his horse while I return to mine. He lingers a bit, before getting on. I shake my head.
“Well then sire, let us get a move on” I say hurriedly. I fear the castle knights might’ve already sensed our departure. The prince nods and we trod on.
We reach the village just as the sun peeks its head through the mountains. A few early birds before now had awakened and were heading out to work. I suggest to the prince that we look for a lodge that will take us in. We knock on different lodges, asking if they would let us stay for 2 weeks. Some were willing to let the prince stay with them because he was of light complexion. They weren’t ready to let black people into their rooms.
I could understand why though.
We go to another lodge and ask the same thing. This time though, they weren’t allowing white people to stay. I shake my head and wonder if any of these lodges are willing to allow two races in one place.
“Prince, what should we do?”.
“Let us continue searching. I’m sure there’s one that does business beyond our past” he mutters the last part.
We go back and forth. Asking lodge keepers if they were willing to let two people of different races, share a room.
I dare not leave the prince to his own room. Heaven forbid it.
We trod on. The prince points to a lodge that isn’t conjoined with other structures. We reach the entrance and get off our horses. A stable boy emerges from a shed and offers to bring our horses to the lodges stables.
I guess this lodge doesn’t mind?
The prince goes towards the wood-built doors, but I stop him by putting my arm in front of his way.
“What is wrong butler?” the prince demands.
“How do we know if this lodge is any different? Just because the lad came out to stow our horses away?” I say.
Before the prince can counter my reply, the doors to the lodge swings open.
“G’day gentlemen! how are things doin’ for you? Can we be of any service?”, a middle-aged man speaks.
He is of tall stature. Golden-brown beard and short cropped hair, with white skin color. He dresses like that of a commoner. He is a commoner.
“Um… good day”-
“Hello Good man! Great morning we have eh? My friend and I were wandering about, knocking lodge to lodge, looking for a place to rest. But alas, no one invited us in to accompany them because I was one race, and my friend was another. So tell good man, are you the same?” the prince inquires. I fold my arms and wonder how he could just interrupt me like that.
The man looks at the prince in awe, before chuckling. I raise an eyebrow.
“Do not worry yourselves gentlemen, my family and I are happy to invite you in, both of you”. The man smiles and bids us in.
We walk in and immediately the smell of fresh pastries invades our nostrils. I struggle to keep my mouth from watering. I turn to the prince and he doesn’t even hide his hunger.
What a dog.
Another man, maybe about two years older than us, walks over. He looks exactly like the older gentleman except younger.
His son maybe?
“May I take your bags sirs? Both of you must be awfully tired and strained from the trip”, he says while leading us to our rooms.
“We are really grateful for your kindness”
“Aw, do not worry about. All well cared for”.
He brings out a key from his back pocket of his pants and unlocks the door. The young man then escorts us into the room. The prince gasp and his eyes sparkle.  I too, look in amazement.
The room is so small. So tiny.
“Is this really a room someone sleeps in!?” the prince asks in bewilderment. The young man simply nods and leaves us to ourselves.
I decided to check the place out. I must make sure that this room is worthy of the prince’s existence.
I walk a few ways before stopping at a room that seems to be a bathroom? but smaller. I give the toilet a few flushes, turn the handles for both hot and cold water, and check for any dust or stains. The wallpaper is lavender with gold printings. Quite lovely if I do say so myself.
I exit the bathroom and head for the showering room. As I pass the room that the prince and I are sharing, I catch a glimpse of him staring out the window, waiting for a magical experience to happen.
Good lord, heavens above, mercy’s angels, and the holy courts.
The showering room has a toilet with a medium sized bath for washing.
This is 10 times smaller than the bath in the castle. But what did I expect?
I return to the living room and collect our bags that the young man placed on the floor enter our rooms.
I come in to see the prince rolling around on his bed (there are two beds and he chose the one near the window), smelling the pillows and hiding under the blankets.
What an animal.
“Your Highness, should I start putting your clothes in the closet?” I ask impatiently.
“Butler, go sleep. We’ll worry about our luggage later in the morning. Look, people are barely seen during this hour. Let us rest our bodies and calm our minds.” The prince eases into the bed while a small yawn escapes the blanket he wrapped himself in.
The place goes quiet. The commoner smell filters the room with musty oak and fresh mint leaves. Specks of sunlight make its way through the window and I find myself relaxed and still.
I walk over to my bed and feel the mattress cave in as I sit down. Resting my head on the pillow, I close my eyes and try to, uh, sleep, as the prince called it. I try and let my mind wander, thinking of little things, simple things, small things that will not have any significant impact on anything.
As my mind wanders, I hear the creaking of wood, doors being swung open and closed, small chatter, probably from outside the window, and the soft snores from the prince across the room.
My consciousness blurs as I let the darkness embrace me.
My childhood. My mother’s betrayal. My sensitivity. My fear. My pain.
“Do you like being alone? Do you like sitting in this dump, this filth?” the man asks me.
I hug my knees tightly to my chest. I don’t respond. The rainy season had come in bitter cold and I try to keep as much warmth close to me as possible. I look up and realize that the man is still there. Towering over me. Probably pitying me.
I turn my head away from the man and wonder when he’ll leave.
“Come on lad, don’t be shy. I’m not gonna hurt yah, despite widely held beliefs. The war ended years ago. Folks shouldn’t be holdin’ up whatever thoughts they’re thinking, yah know?”. He pauses and asks if I’m listening.
I am.
“All I’m saying is that, despite me being white, and you being black, we’re one in the same. The same God created us all. The same God expects us to treat each other the same way he treats us. With love, kindness, and tender-heartedness, so that’s what I’m doing”. He reaches out his hand towards me. I stare at it. very intently.
The rain falls harder on us. By the way my body is shivering, he can tell my next course of action.
I hesitantly reach out my left arm while he waits and………
My eyes open. I blink a few times. How long have I been asleep?
I shoot out of bed and touch my hair. My clothes, they’re rumpled.
How long have I been asleep for?
I look across the room where the prince’s bed is and realize that the prince isn’t sleeping on it. I stand up from my bed in a panic and head towards the room door. Just as I reach out for the doorknob, the bathroom door swings open. SMACK. The door hits the wall with such force that I nearly jump out of my skin. Out comes the prince with a towel around his hair and waist. He catches my eyes staring in bewilderment and smiles.
“Good afternoon butler. I woke up much earlier than you probably expected,” the prince explains as he walks over to the makeshift closet and brings out fresh clothes, “But do not worry, you didn’t miss much, just there was a light rain shower during the time”. I stare as he gets changed, without caring that I’m here.
Shaking my head, I walk over to the prince’s side of the room and look out the window. I notice dew drops on the leaves near the window sill.
It’s the afternoon??
“Butler?”, the prince calls out.
“What is it?”, I respond.
“Let us go down to the main floor to have brunch. The owner’s son called us down earlier, but you were still sleeping”, the prince says with a growing smile on his face.
I nod and follow the prince down the stairs. As we make our way down, the smell of fried eggs and garlic bread fill our noses. The prince makes the face of a dog when a bone is placed in front of it and I shake my head in shame.
“Oh, you boys are down already!? I better hurry up those slices of bread”, a burly voice calls out just as we reach the last step.
The prince and I turn the corner and see a middle-aged woman working furiously in the kitchen.
That voice before came from her? I thought it was a man.
She flips dough, rolls It out, sprinkles minced garlic on top and throws it in the oven. She looks up.
“Good mid-day to you boys. I am the in-keepers wife Melany”, she says rather rushed. She tucks her caramel-colored hair behind her ears and continues working. Her face is covered with freckles along with full rosy cheeks.
She asks if we would like to eat now or wait a bit longer. Knowing the prince’s response, I say we would wait for her to finish.
The prince glares at me and I ignore him.
I look out the living main floor windows and see people outside.
It is so much more magical seeing sights like these up close rather than from a castle on a hill.
Children play around while woman talk amongst themselves. Men are seen carrying heavy load and riding on horse drawn carriages. I hear a clink on the table and assume our breakfast or lunch is here.
It is just the prince playing with the forks and spoons and humming.
What a child.
Melany comes to our table with our plates of food and sets it. I offer assistance, but she refuses. The prince smiles snidely, and I wonder what could amuse him.
“You wanted to help her because it is your butler duty, right?”.
“Is there a problem with the gesture?”
“Nothing wrong. Just letting you know you will be utterly useless in this place. People here fend for themselves. They do not have butlers and servant doing everything for them”, the prince remarks, buttering his slice of garlic bread and placing some fried eggs on top.
I take a sip of my tea and eat some fruit.
I hardly care if I will be utterly useless. I lived that way my whole life. This is no surprise to me.
And besides, what makes you think that you would be helpful. The dark-skinned people hate you, and the light-skinned people hate me. Would we be of any use if we were seen together?
++TagList++
@zeriacaslon
Just a big shoutout to @zeriacaslon for giving unimaginable motivation to continue this ridiculous story. Thank you So very much I hope you stick around for the long haul.
If you want to be added, message or comment. 
Criticism is heavily advised. whether it be good or bad remarks, please tell me and back it up. don’t just say it’s bad and leave it at that. 
Thank you \../ 💕
4 notes · View notes
echo-inthevoid · 5 years
Text
Friends at the table live blogging? Reaction? Thoughts? What is this?
So I know usually people start these at episode one but when I started listening to this podcast it was just cause I was super bored and I had no intention of liking it so much. But I do like it incredibly lots and there isn't enough content out there for autumn in hieron, (which is what I'm currently listening through because I decided to start at the beginning), and there needs to be more. So I'm going to write out my reactions and predictions for the rest of this season (I'm on episode 21 now.) I've also already made some art so I'll post that along with the reactions. All of this ill tag as #myf@ttreactions so... I guess if I end up spamming you can block it or if you come across this later and want to read it all in order you can do that too.
Alright. So to recap what I've listened to so far. Obviously, this will contain spoilers but I'll try to be somewhat vague? So if you do plan on listening but don't mind spoilers it's not gonna be like there's no point in listening anymore?
The first arc (the first tower? Idk if there's a naming system in place for the arcs within each season? Are their multiple arcs in other seasons of hieron? Idk. I've been trying to avoid spoilers.) I'll just call it the first tower until I'm told otherwise.
The first tower was super interesting, although at that point I couldn't tell the difference between any of the voices except phantasmo and hella? So I didn't super follow the character development or interactions super well (also the audio wasn't great early on). But the whole thing about every npc having a goal and at least some personality is a thing I really love. The whole thing with the animated chefs hat? Brilliant loved it.
hadrian killed the skeleton dude! I was also upset about it!
Even this early on I was in love with austins story telling. He gives everything such personality and seems capable of just going with whatever the players decide to do in a way I find almost unbelievable? Like? How????? Teach me your ways?
Also they are all so... Earnest and unabashed in caring about their characters and the world? basically they are a bunch of nerds, but that caring is something that means a lot to me.
All the characters arguing at the end was interesting? Like these guys aren't just gonna stick together cause their the player characters, they're willing to split up or fight and I found that very interesting. I've only listened to taz as far as actual play podcasts are concerned so forgive me if I don't know how rpg podcasting usually goes or compare these two a lot.
Hella and phantasmo were my favorites at this point (because they were the only voices I could recognize), and I thought hadrian and fero were the same person??? Sort of? I was very confused.
And I think that's all I have to say about the first tower.
So on to snow party and then boat party.
at this point 1. The audio got better, and 2. I realized fero and hadrian were different people because they were in two different places.
Throndir is introduced and is a tentative favorite. He has a dog, is an elf, looks up to two idiots, is just generally adorable?
Hadrian decides not to sleep after having nightmares. Yes yes yes give meee angst. Also having come to this from listening to Taz the willingness to explore the characters emotions so much was very nice? Like taz is great, but it is about 90% goofs, which is great and what a lot of people like about it, and is something I like about it. It's just rather surprising going from one sort of extreme to the other? Anyway, I liked it.
Phantasmo goes invisible and then reality slowly disappears? Spooky. Very nice. They go into how he's feeling about it? Copy paste the paragraph I just wrote again. That good good character development stuff! I could probably have writen a pretty in character fanfic about phantasmo just having the information about him from that one thing?
The ice monster? Spookyyyy! Also. Throndir slowly rising as a solid favorite. My boy was so cold and scared! ;-;
Phantasmo is an old grumpidygrump. I love.
Hadrian tries his best.
Wooorddd eatterrrsssss!!! This idea confused me a lot. And still does? How does one subsist on words? How do you eat a word? Do you eat it from just one person or does it disappear for everyone? Phantasmo didn't forget samothese's name, but at the same time it seems like the snow elves forgot about the goblins pretty thoroughly. Maybe just cause they live shorter now? And have lived with the word eaters for a long time? How do they not know the word eaters exist? Do the word eaters not turn them wordless ever? I have so many questions! Does a word eater have any consciousness before it eats a word? Or is it just a collection of words that eventually form a consciousness? What ARE they?
Phantasmos speech to the word eater.... O.O He was actually helpful? Wowowow. Also, super cool.
He immediately rubs it in everyones faces. Of course.
Also apparently throndir is part goblin??? When did that happen? The next episode just sort of started with them talking about it and I feel like I missed something??? Please help, where was that? When did that happen?
Also the goblin asking if throndir is going to torture the other pcs. Hints at tragic backstory™? 👀
And. Now i must scream about the entire part with the other snow elves!!!!!!!!!!
Like!!! They disected people!? And throndir saw it!? First of all, that's gotta be a bit traumatic, secondly, that's gotta be like terrifying also!!? Likewhkahskwbdjdjdjsksjd. I am a sucker for angst and you are just giving me this!? You're just giving it to me??? There is so MUCH that can be pulled out of this!? Also I didn't have any wifi or signal for a couple days in between them being captured and it being revealed that they were going to let throndir go and I am gonna have to write a fic some time about what I thought was going to happen. It definitely included throndir getting disected with like magic and things and was uuuu.. Very angst.
Throndir is my favorite for sure at this point. 100%. He's my boyy.
Alright now back to BOAT PARTYYYY!!!
Calhoun is great. Everything great. Then it's not.
Emanuel and lem!!!!! Im slow on the uptake when it comes to romance (ace here, hello) but I think this is the fastest I've ever shipped anything. Aka when lem decided he'd stay in the city with Emanuel and the others were kinda teasing him about how he had this whole idea of Emanuel in his mind... I was like haaanngg on a second! Is the romantic tension so strong here that even I can sense it!? Also then lem jokingly called him his boyfriend so.
Probably everyone else shipped it immediately when lem stopped fighting because Emanuel looked at him funny...
Again, austins ability to just sort of take whatever the players do and just go with it? Like now there's this whole ghost city!??
I really hope things turn out alright with lem and Emanuel, like. I hope Emanuel is still around in 4 seasons? (Or however many seasons of hieron there is?)
I just realized that if there's 4 seasons of hieron then that us an incredible pun and I am proud of whoever came up with it? If it wasn't just a coincidence? Is this a thing people are aware of? Have I unlocked my third eye?
I'm listening to episode 21 right now so I need to cry about Calhoun a bit. Like. Oof. Hella why. Also Ali/Hella was crying!!? And Calhoun was crying? And now I'm crying!? Calhoun became a favorite character of mine and then immediately died in like 2 minutes.
...i have now reached the end of episode 21 and I am scared.
Calhoun please don't change now? Like kill hella sure, but don't become eviill?? I just want everyone to be happy ;~;
Alright. Well. See ya next episode.
1 note · View note
Text
A Pair of Fans
Tumblr media
Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader
Warnings: Creepy guy follows you for like 2 paragraphs but you get a happy ending. Pinky promise.
A/N: I am so sorry this took so long to write, you guys! I’ve been hitting a writing wall like crazy and my life has just been a little hectic. This was a little rushed because I’ve been trying to get it out to you guys but I also have to leave for work in about an hour. Thank you so much for your patience and your love, I appreciate you guys. You’re the best. Remember to let me know what you think. Like, comment, reblog, message me, inbox me, I’m really friendly. I promise. @petah-parkah-and-potahtas and @i-am-lame-leave-me-alone
| part one: Fangirl | part two: Fanboy |
___
In the end, you met Tom by accident.
It was your last night in London and you decided to pull your lazy ass off the fancy hotel couch to wander the potentially dangerous London streets. The faults of your plan didn’t fully hit you until the street lights turned on and your phone died. Here you were, all alone, lost in the most unfamiliar of settings.
Which way was the way back to the hotel? The GPS had said to head south on this certain stretch of road before your phone had died, and that information would have been helpful if you knew which way was south. Why had Jason agreed to let you go out alone? In London.
Your current mission was to find a phone booth. You knew your mom’s phone number by heart and she could get in touch with Jason to come get you. She would be mad and you would never live down the time you got lost in London, but at least you wouldn’t be dead in some back alley.
Thankfully, the road you were on wasn’t very populated so you decided to walk with your hood down. If you bumped into a fan or two you wouldn’t mind. It was still a surreal feeling whenever someone came up to you and recognized you.
As you walked, the night grew darker and you couldn’t help but be paranoid about the guy walking several paces behind you. Hunching your shoulders, you glanced behind you and the predatory look on his face was enough to make the hair on the back of your neck raise.
You quickened your pace and took a sharp and sudden left through an alley which, thankfully, led to another street instead of your untimely doom. Still keeping your gaze behind you, you payed no mind to the road in front of you.
Never in all your wildest dreams did you ever think you would run smack dab into Tom Holland. Of course, you didn’t realize it was him until a little later. He was more solid than you would have imagined and he was warm. Almost like running straight into an open toaster oven. Or maybe you were just cold?
You grabbed very muscular biceps to keep yourself from falling on your ass and let out the smallest of surprised ‘Oh!’s known to man-kind. He responded with a grunt, ‘Oof.’ It was deep, not at all how you would think a Tom Holland ‘oof’ would sound.
You should have let go at this point, apologize for not paying attention, and maybe try to explain the situation. That’s what you would usually do, but when you heard footsteps echoing off the brick walls behind you, you abandoned all regards for societal norms.
You let go of the stranger’s biceps and threw your arms around him in a big hug, tilting your head at just the right angle to see the man slow his steps.
Showtime.
“Peter! I can’t believe I found you! I was so lost and my phone died. I’m sorry we fought, I promise to never walk away from you again.” Queue the tears and the sniffles. You buried you head into a chest that, thankfully, smelled amazing. Please just go along, please just go along. Arms circled your back and pulled you close. A strangely familiar American voice spoke back.
“Don’t worry, babe. Just calm down and let’s head back to the hotel. Yeah?” More footsteps except this time, they were receding. Your heart about burst with absolute joy. You stayed like that, encompassed in a stranger’s comforting embrace for what felt like eternity.
Once you both deemed the coast clear, you pulled back and almost chocked on your own spit in shock. Tom Holland stood in front of you, his curls a little disheveled and his cheeks a bit flushed, wearing a black shirt and jeans. His mouth dropped as the realization dawned on him.
He was standing in front of (Y/N) (Y/L/N).
You were standing in front of Tom Holland. Covering your mouth, you stared at him with wide eyes. When you finally spoke, you sounded like the stupidest person to ever exist.
“I thought you were American!” You were pointing your index finger at his chest. His very solid, warm, nice-smelling chest that you had buried your face into just moments ago. You were going to have a full blown anxiety attack from the sheer absurdity of the situation.
He smirked now, “I am not. It was just acting, darling.” Your heart fluttered. He just called you darling. How many times had you YouTubed compilations of him saying that to imagine him saying it to you? Enough to know that it never sounded like this, all breathless and heated and flirty.
He extended his hand and you watched as a little bit of the fanboy from the Jimmy Fallon interview brightened his eyes. “It’s lovely to finally meet you. I am a huge fan.”
You took his hand a little awkwardly, afraid to show just how much you were freaking out. “Likewise.”
“So where are you headed?”
“Brown’s Hotel.” He raised his eyebrows and informed you that you were going in the very wrong direction, Brown’s Hotel was the opposite direction. You laughed a little nervously, scratching the back of your neck as you explained your embarrassing situation. He laughed, shaking his head and squinting his eyes in the most adorable show of amusement you’d ever witnessed.
As you walked back, your shoulders bumping each other’s every once in a while, you talked about everything you could. When was the next time you would be able to walk the sparsely populated streets of a foreign country with your all time celebrity crush?
“What in the world made you choose Peter for a name?” He joked, looking down at you as he steered you around a corner. His hand lightly gripped the back of your lower bicep, sending electricity through your nervous system. If this was a Disney Pixar movie, the alarms in your head would be blaring as your emotions ran wild.
“It was the first name to come to mind. And I’m a huge Spider-Man fan.” You shrugged, self consciously tucking your hands deep into your pockets. Peeking at him through the corner of your eyes, you caught his gaze long enough to spike your heart rate. Which was already dangerously high.
The subject changed a billion different times, sometimes one of you would let a fan moment slip and the two of you would laugh.
Like when Tom said, “Your acting was seamless and beautiful. You weren’t even the lead and still you got the most attention for the movie! Somehow you managed to convey so many things with just facial expressions and body language and it was insane, as a fellow actor, to watch you. If I didn’t know any better, I would have thought you were really your character and-“ he cut himself off, his cheeks a preciously dark pink.
“I’m sorry, I’m geeking a little.” The both of you laughed and he got to witness you geek a little later, gushing about his portrayal of a character you grew up with.
“To actually see this Peter as a teenager, and I mean a real teenager, it was refreshing. Tobey and Andrew did great, don’t get me wrong. They’re both amazing actors, but I just feel like you were the most accurate teenage Peter that has ever been on screen. I love watching you.” It took you a second to realize what exactly you had just said and immediately you tried to correct yourself, but Tom didn’t hear a word of it as his laughter roared through the street.
By the time you got to Brown’s, you didn’t want to leave. You stood awkwardly at the elevator doors, shuffling your feet and trying to make sure that no one recognized Tom. He had his back to the main lobby but it still felt a bit risky.
“Well...” He looked at you with the biggest brown eyed puppy dog look you’d ever seen. It twisted your heart a million different ways inside your chest.
“Well...” You repeated. It was quiet for just a beat and then he said the most precious thing.
“Would you mind if I hugged you goodbye?” Without replying, your threw your arms around him. It felt natural, your body pressed to his like this. His arms pulled you close and he buried his head into your hair.
The moment was so dream-like, that you were completely unaware of the sound of the elevator opening behind you until the people inside started speaking.
“Tom Holland!” He jerked up, catching sight of the three paparazzi behind you. As if it was somehow possible, he pulled you closer in a very intimately protective manner. His body felt rigid against you. You were frozen in place.
“Who is the girl?!” They all started asking, and somehow it felt like you were being swarmed in a mob with their thousand of questions flying at the two of you like daggers. Tom managed to evade both their questions and them by shuffling the two of you into the elevator and evil eyeing them out.
When the doors closed, he let you go and gave you an awakward smile.
“Going up?” After he walked you to your room and you said your goodbyes, a bit reluctantly, you slipped inside. He hadn’t even asked for your number, or if he could see you again. You didn’t try to deny the sadness that thought brought.
Until you shoved your hands into your jacket pocket, ready to march into the bedroom and find your charger so you could cry to your mom. Your hand brushed against something, and when you pulled it out, you realized it was a card. Spider-Man was on the front, the famous picture of him laying on his back in front of the New York skyline.
Flipping it to the back, you burst into giddy laughter.
Tom Holland
Peter Parker aka Spider-Man
Just beneath that was his phone number and social media accounts. At the very bottom, in hurried handwriting was a small sentence.
“I’ve been hoping to run into you.”
561 notes · View notes
coffee-and-sprite · 6 years
Text
a pinch of cinnamon | chapter i
rissa
~~
==Coffee shop!au // Multi-chapter
Prologue | Chapter I | Chapter II
==Pairing: Lee Minho x Reader
==Genre: romance and angst, there’s a lot of fluff in there though don’t worry
==Words: 796 (a/n - oof, that’s not a lot my b... chapters will get longer the further we get into the story, but this is more of a prologue as of now??)
==Summary: a new singer performs at your favorite coffee shop and you find yourself inexplicably fascinated. maybe it’s love, but probably not
==First Paragraph:
Your favorite part about District 9 had always been the live music. The owner decided when he opened the cafe that music should be playing as soon as the shop opened, and, so far, it had upheld that standard. Even early in the mornings, when the sun had just risen, there was always some new band playing behind the bustle of orders and the distinct smell of coffee. The gentle sounds of a guitar or sweet voice never failed to make your morning, and you often sat and listened to them, even after your drink had long gone cold.
~~ 
It had become a routine, going to District 9. The first time you went there, it was for a friend who was performing. He was a music major and it had been his first gig. 
“Seungmin, you’re going to do great!” you said to him, tightening his tie. 
“Ah, but I’m so nervous!” he whined, loosening it again. “What if my voice cracks, or I forget the chords?”
“You won’t, you’re ready for this. Now go!” You turned him around and gave him a gentle shove onto the raised platform. He stumbled for a second then, glancing back at you, gave a strained smile. You shot him a thumbs up just as he sat down at the keyboard already set up on the stage. 
Sitting back down at your table, you listened to him sing. It was a simple song, but he performed it beautifully, his honey-like vocals matching perfectly to the room’s early morning atmosphere. When he finished, you cheered loudest of all, standing up and clapping as hard as you could. His beaming smile was worth every minute you spent walking here, you decided, whooping playfully as he left the stage. 
~~
The second time you went to the cafe, you just wanted coffee.
You stood in line for the counter and glanced at the menu, though you already knew what you wanted.
“What can I get you?” said a cheerful voice as you approached the counter.
“A medium coffee, room for cream please,” you said, pulling some bills from your wallet and looking at the man behind the counter for the first time.
“Aw, that’s so boring! Why not get something more fun?” he joked, smiling and winking cutely. You were momentarily astounded by his beauty, his bleached blond hair catching the morning sun.
Getting back to your senses you laughed quietly. “Tuesday mornings aren’t really a time for excitement…”
“Jisung.”
“Jisung,” you repeated, feeling the name with your mouth. “But, maybe you’ve convinced me. I’ll take mine with…” you trailed off, scanning the menu for a moment before deciding on “a pinch of cinnamon.”
“Simple, but different. I like your style,” Jisung commented, jotting your order down on a paper cup. “Can I get a name?”
“Oh, yeah uh, it’s y/n,” you said after a second. His hair really was pretty. Pretty distracting.
“You don’t sound sure, but okay,” he said writing it down and passing the cup to an employee behind him. “That’ll be $3.76.”
~
The third time you went to District 9, you met him.
You were walking downtown, past the row of shops on the way to your school when you heard him through the open door of the small cafe. It was late spring and the light blow of the AC from inside carried his voice to the sidewalk where you stood.
You stopped outside the door, utterly dumbstruck. It was one of the most beautiful voices you’d ever heard, singing sweetly about who knows what, because at that point you didn’t care. You found yourself wandering inside and sitting down at a table to listen and watch.
The way he moved mesmerized you, flowing like water. Even though he was singing, you could tell just by the sway of his feet that he was meant to be a dancer. He stopped after his verse, passing the song to his bandmate, and you found yourself a tad disappointed.
Technically speaking, his friend was a better singer, you realized later. He was more stable, could hit higher notes and his technique was flawless, but something about that first man’s voice had enraptured you in a way you couldn’t explain. It was terrifying, but as the song ended you strained to hear his name.
“Give it up for INverse, everyone,” said Chan, a part time employee you’d met with Seungmin.
You clapped politely, watching the three members walk off the stage, smiling and waving. The first singer exited last, and immediately walked to stand in line. Still curious, you followed and stood behind him, trying to convince yourself that what you were doing wasn’t creepy.
Jisung took his order, and, just as he finished ordering, you caught his name.
“Lee Minho.”
2 notes · View notes
redwallthoughts · 7 years
Text
Redwall Midwinter Miracle: Day 3 part 2
Once again thanks to the wonderful @raphcrow​ for her help with beta-reading and editing... I don't know what I'd do without her
Some of you may have noticed that this chapter took quite a bit longer to get up than the previous chapters... I must apologize for the delay, I certainly don't intend to take forever with each chapter. Ch. 5 was delayed due to wedding preparations... that's right, I got married! Ch. 6 might be a little bit longer in coming as well since we're still settling into our new place, but hopefully finding time to write won't be nearly so difficult now that I don't have twenty-gazillion things to decide for the wedding...
FF.net, AO3, DA
[Ch. 1] [Ch. 2] [Ch. 3] [Ch. 4]
“Gangway! Comin’ through. Oof, pardon me little darlin’.”
A myriad of voices echoed off the walls of Great Hall as Gonff made his way through the crowd of dibbuns preparing for the scavenger hunt. Dibbuns were everywhere, running about, sitting in the middle of the room, getting underpaw, and talking loudly with one another as their chaperones shouted to be heard over the noise.
“I’s gonna find a big stawb’ry!”
“Burr, you’m foolish choild. ‘Tis too cold fer stawb’ies.”
“Den why Missus Goody use ‘em inna trifle?”
“Dear me! Columbine, will you grab that baby hedgehog before she topples off the table?”
“Le’ go! I climb da walls like Chug!”
“Watch out zur Gonffen!”
Gonff skipped backward just in time as two small mice and a tiny molebabe ran in front of him. “Where are you three off to in such a hurry?” he called after the babes.
The smaller of the two mousebabes, a maid called Trif, looked back at him and yelled, “We gonna look fer scanger clues outside!”
“Oh no you don’t, you little villains.”  
Gonff ducked as an enormous paw shot over his head and scooped up the three dibbuns.  Lady Sandingomm held the troublemakers close as they tried to squirm out of her grip. “I've told you dibbuns twice already, there are no clues hidden outdoors. If I catch you three misbehaving and trying to get outside again it will be an early bedtime and no feast for you. Am I clear?”
The three dibbuns immediately stopped squirming and nodded their heads vigorously.
“Yes, Lady Sandigone.”
“You’m be’s clearer that ‘e barthwater, Lady Sandergom.”
“We’s no more try ta go outerside, Lady Somdigan.”
Lady Sandingomm smiled at the trio as she set them back on the floor. “And be sure to apologize to Mister Gonff. You nearly knocked him over.”
The three babes looked at the ground sheepishly as they lined up in front of Gonff. Gurty, the molebabe, took it upon himself to speak. “We’m tur’bly sorry zur. Usn’s didn’ mean to knock ee over, bur aye.”
Gonff smiled at the three mischievemakers over the edge of the basket he was carrying. “No need to worry, little mates, nothing broke.”
Triff stood on tippaw, trying to peer into the basket. “Wot’s in der?”
“Dat’s da apple basket,” the older mousebabe told her.
“I knows dat, Miskle,” Triff said.
Gonff knelt down to prevent further arguing. “It’s Martin’s writing supplies,” he explained. He tipped the basket slightly to give the dibbuns a peek, then stood and started walking toward the passage to the cellars. The three babes followed him.
“Why’s you bringin’ Unca Martin’s stuff inside?” Miskle asked, trotting to keep up with the mousethief.
“Well, you see Miskle,” Gonff slowed down and shifted the basket to one side, “The snow’s started to get too deep outside, so Martin’s moving into the cellars.”
Triff nodded her agreement, dragging baby Gurty along by the paw. “I sawed da moles diggin’ him outter da gate’ouse laster mornin’.”
“Laster morning?” Columbine asked, coming up next to the group.
Gonff nodded seriously at his wife and snuck her a quick wink. “Aye, laster mornin’.”
Columbine smiled and shook her head. “Alright, laster morning. Now you three youngsters run along, Mr. Barklad’s assigning the teams.” The three dibbuns scurried off toward the end of the hall. “Bless their little hearts,” Columbine said, still shaking her head. “D’you remember when our Gonfflet was that small?”
“I remember, my pretty blossom,” Gonff said. He shifted the basket again and caught his wife around the waist, planting a quick kiss on her cheek.
Columbine giggle and blushed. “Oh stop it, you.”
Gonff grinned roguishly. “Never.” He laughed as Columbine tweaked his whiskers, kissing her paw before she could pull it away.
“Gonff, really,” Columbine said, placing her paws on her hips. “I’ve got to finish setting up. I’ve still got-” she paused and felt the pouch at her belt. “Gonff!”
“Where do they go?” Gonff asked quietly, nodding to the basket which now contained several extra pieces of slate from Columbine’s pouch. The small, gray tablets were covered in Columbine’s neat writing. Some of the verses were quite short and simple, while a few ranged into longer paragraphs.
Columbine smiled and whispered in Gonff’s ear, “They go in the cellars. Ferdy and Coggs will know where to hide them. Now hurry, before more dibbuns spot you.”
“Very well,” Gonff said, releasing her and tipping his hat. “Until we meet again, my beautiful flower.” He turned and continued toward the cellars, leaving a blushing Columbine in his wake.
It did not take long to deliver the slate clues to Ferdy and Coggs. The twin cellarhogs joked and laughed with him for a few minutes before returning to their work. Gonff made his way down the passage to the open door of Martin’s room.
It was not a large room. Decently sized for a mouse but somewhat cozy once everything was moved in. A squat, circular bed sat in one corner, covered by a faded brown blanket. Next to the bed stood a small table with a candle and an empty basin for water. The space was lit by a torch in the wall sconce next to the door. Rose was already in the room, looking about as she waited for somebeast to tell her what needed doing.
“No crutches today?” Gonff asked as he entered.
Rose shook her head. “It’s quite warm here in the abbey, my footpaws have barely complained at all today.” She glanced around the room again.“Does he move down here every winter?”
Gonff nodded as he set the basket on the bed. “Aye, every winter since moving into Redwall. And then back out to the gatehouse as soon as the snow starts melting in spring.” He watched the maid carefully as she nodded and continued looking about the room. She had taken a particular interest in his friend. That in itself wasn’t special, plenty of maids had shown interest in the warrior over the seasons. Most didn’t stick around long. Once they learned that Martin had no interest in starting a family they turned their eyes to more willing prospects. Rose, however, had made no such moves, her interest seemed purely innocent. She was an enigma to him. Martin had even taken to her fun-loving manner far quicker than Gonff would have expected. Accepting her presence in Redwall just as she accepted his faults and quirks, with the gentle patience of a long time friend.
Gonff’s eyes went wide and he glanced at Rose again. She had come from the North, after all. The more he thought about it, the more plausible the idea seemed. Martin had never told Gonff his full story. They’d been too busy fighting a war, and by the time it was over Martin’s memories were gone. True, Martin had told him the story of his father when they first met, but the quest to the North had proven that story to be full of holes. The only problem was that Gonff had no proof. They’d followed a song to the North, but Trimp had at least heard Martin’s name before.
The sound of others coming down the hall reached Gonff’s ears, and he decided that perhaps it was best to stay quiet for the time being. He would keep his eyes open, though. He had learned a few things from Martin over the seasons.
Dinny and another mole staggered into the bedroom, weighed down by the sturdy oaken desk they carried. Dinny nodded toward the wall across from the bed. “Yur, roight o’er thur, bur aye.” They stumbled over to it, leaning the desk against the wall as they set it down.
“Moind thoi footpaws,” the other mole warned. With much grunting and shuffling, the two moles rested their burden on the ground. “Boy oakey, that’n be ee solid desker.”
“That it is, Grumm,” Martin said from the doorway. “Thank you both for your help.”
Both mole faces crinkled into smiles. “Et were our pleasure, Marthen. Coom on, Grumm, we’m still gotten ee chester t’ bring doawn.” They waddled back the way they had come, patting Martin on the back as they passed him.
Martin smiled at their retreating forms, them turned to Gonff and Rose. “Thank you for your help.” He placed a second basket on the bed, this one full of rags, whetstones, and other various odds and ends. He may have hung up his sword, but that didn’t mean he was going to let it get rusty.
“No worries, mate,” Gonff said with a grin. “Besides, ‘ow could I call myself an honest mousethief if I couldn’t help a friend move?”
Rose snorted and cupped her paws around her mouth to muffle her laughter. “An honest thief?”
Gonff bowed and flourished his cap. “Aye miss. I’m the Prince of Honest Mousethieves you know. I can outwit any lock and haven’t met an unfriendly key yet. Why, I could steal the whiskers off your face and you wouldn’t even know. Ouch!” He jumped as Martin poked him in the side.
“Stop boasting and help me sort through this mess,” he said, pointing to the baskets.
“It doesn’t just go back on the desk?” Rose asked.
Martin shook his head, carefully spilling a basket out onto the floor. “At least half of it isn’t mine, possibly more.” He began sorting through the pile, pulling out things he recognized and leaving the rest for Gonff.
Rose knelt next to the warrior and pulled a half-finished sewing project from the pile. “What’s this?”
Gonff took it from her. “That’ll be the apron Columbine was working on last fall, so that’s where she put it.”
Martin waved a small flute under Gonff’s nose. “This is yours.”
“Doesn’t play as well as the reed flute,” Gonff said. Nevertheless, he took the flute and tucked it into his belt.
The trio continued sorting until the contents of the basket had been separated into several small piles. Columbine’s apron had been joined by an extra set of needles and a pair of mittens that were too small for any of the adults. Gonff’s pile was by far the largest, containing two canteens, one of them empty, a plate, three spinning tops, a handful of pretty stones, a carving of Gonfflet and Chugger that Folgrim had made for him, and several beakers.
“Is that everything?” Gonff asked, making a show of stretching.
Martin shook his head. “There’s still plenty more to go though, my friend.”
Gonff snorted. “I mean from that basket, mate.”
Rose peered into the basket. “Not quite,” she said, pulling out a small linen bag that had caught at the bottom, “Which pile does this belong in?”
Martin give a soft smile. “That’s mine. It belonged to my mother,” he explained quietly.
“Oh,” Rose’s eyes went wide. She turned the little bag over in her paws, examining the intricate beading. “It’s beautiful.” She paused, her face clouding slightly as though trying to decide what to say. “How did you find it?”
Gonff froze, watching Martin give Rose a strange look. “How did you know I didn’t bring it with me when I first arrived?” Martin asked.
Rose shrugged, “On the first night you mentioned that you didn’t have anything with you besides your sword.”
Martin nodded, but Gonff wasn’t convinced so easily. Martin had said no such thing on the night of the first feast, and Gonff was fairly certain the topic hadn’t come up again since. It seemed rather strange to him that she would have known that Martin hadn’t had the little bag in his possession when he arrived in Mossflower. “Gonff, myself, and some others went on a quest to the North six seasons ago,” Martin said. “We found the caves my tribe used to live in, as well as a few of my father’s friends. Vurg was the one who found the bag, although there isn’t much in it. You can look if you want.” He stood as she opened it, and walked with Gonff toward the door. “I wonder what’s taking Gonfflet and Chugger so long?”
As if summoned by his words, the two youngsters, together with their new friend Tintin, appeared at the end of hall, out of breath and giggling as they carried stacks of books and papers. “Sorry Uncle Martin,” Chugger said, “The books fell as we were leaving the gatehouse, some of them got wet.”
Gonff took a book from the top of Chugger’s stack and leafed through it. It was damp, but still readable. “They look fine to me, mate.” He passed the book to Martin.
Martin flipped through the pages carefully, examining the writing inside. “It’ll survive,” he said finally. He turned back into the bedroom. “Rose, these three trouble-makers have brought the books. Gonff and I will go get the bookshelf if you want to start sorting?”
Rose glanced up from the embroidered cloth she was looking at. “Alright.”
“Ask Rose where she would like them,” Martin said to Gonfflet and Chugger. “Once you’ve done that, will you please start taking these extra things back to their owners? Leave the measuring tools by the wall, I want to find the whole set before returning them to Brother Scrittum.”
Gonfflet grinned cheekily. “Will do, Uncle Martin.”
“Come on, mate.” Martin headed out the door with Gonff on his heels.
Rose watched the pair go with a smile on her face. She was glad to see that Martin had found a friend like Gonff after leaving the North. The warrior could handle himself in a fight, but she’d known he’d need someone to talk to after the events of Marshank. Even the little interaction she’d had with Gonff had shown her where some of Martin’s new habits had come from.
“Where do you want the books, Miss Rose?” Chugger asked. The young squirrel stood before her, his chin barely clearing the stack of books and papers he held. He was slightly better off than Gonfflet, though. The poor mouse could barely see over his stack. Tintin, for his part, carried a stack of loose papers.
Rose pointed numbly at a spot on the floor. How could one mouse collect so many books? She waited until the youngsters had set their burdens on the floor, then sat between the stacks to begin sorting.
The first book she opened contained nothing but letters on the first page, written in three columns down the paper. She recognized the first two columns as northern runes and common woodlander, but the third column was foreign to her. The second page contained the first symbol from the strange column, repeated over and over. The first few lines were shaky and misshapen, but by the end of the page the writing was much more uniform. The next page was filled with the second symbol, and the next page with the third. Rose smiled as she flipped through the rest of the book, each page filled with a different letter. It was a study book that Martin had obviously used to practice Loamscript. She giggled when she saw the top of the final page. Martin had written his own name in all three alphabets, one below the other, and then had written it again using all three alphabets in the single word. The rest of the page was covered with a variety of small words written in Loamscript, most of them accompanied by small sketches. There was a bee, a feather, a basket, Gonff, a rosebush.
She stopped and stared at the rosebush, then looked at the word above it. The word had the correct number of letters to be ‘rosebush’, but something looked off. Glancing up at Martin’s name, she realized that a few of the letters were the same. Keeping a paw on the page, she turned back to the first page with the three alphabets. It did not take long to find the first letter, although she stared at the ‘L’ in confusion for some time. The ‘L’ was followed by an ‘A’, which was followed by a ‘T’. Her paw was beginning to shake as she matched up the rest of the letters. Her own name, Laterose, was spelled out in careful writing above the sketch. True, it was not her picture on the page, but she hadn’t seen any lateroses since leaving her home in the north.
She was jerked from her thoughts by the arrival of Martin and Gonff with the bookcase. They carefully set the bookcase, made of the same solid oak as the desk, against the wall next to the bed. Martin stretched and rubbed an arm across his forehead. “Dinny and Grumm had to empty the chest before they could carry it, but once they finish we should be able to start sorting again. How are you doing, Rose?”
Rose shook herself. “I’m doing alright, though I haven’t really started yet.”
“Is that Martin’s spelling book?” Gonff asked. “That’ll come in handy if you find anythin’ written in Loamscript.
Martin turned to her with a concerned expression. “Is everything alright? You seemed rather startled when we came in.”
“It’s nothing, really,” Rose insisted. She wasn’t entirely certain how to tell Martin that she’d just found her own name in the back of his book, or if she even should tell him.
This seemed to grab Gonff’s attention, and he peered at the book over her shoulder. “What? Did Martin write something naughty at the end of the book?” Rose had moved her paw, but it didn’t take long before Gonff figured out what word she’d been looking at. “Were you stumped by ‘laterose’ too? I keep tellin’ Martin it’s not a real flower, but he insists that it is.”
Rose shook her head. “It’s a real flower,” she said, “I just haven’t seen any this far south before. They’re quite common in the north.”
Martin joined the pair in staring at the page. “So that’s where they’re from. I couldn’t remember when I wrote it, it just sounded pretty.” He stared impassively at the name, then turned his attention to the door. “Come on Gonff, we’ve got more to move. Rose, you can keep that book open if you want, in case you find anything written in Loamscript.”
Rose bit her lip, wishing she had something clever to say. Something that would make Martin turn and think about just where he’d heard of lateroses before. Instead she caught sight of Gonff giving her a questioning stare. He looked between her and the name on the page, clearly considering something.
“Gonff,” Martin called again from the doorway, “Let's go.”
“Coming.” Gonff gave Rose one last glance, then hurried after the warrior.
Rose sighed as their pawsteps faded down the hall. She wasn't sure what she had expected to happen. Certainly not for Martin to suddenly remember everything of his past, but even some small hint of recognition would have been welcome. A tear slipped down her whisker, and she shook herself. Sitting here feeling sorry for herself was getting her nowhere, and she still had books to sort. Setting the study aside, she opened the next book on the stack. An array of numbers and equations greeted her. Neatly printed along the top of the page were the words 'West Wall and gate'. Rose closed the book and set it down. The next book was written in common woodlander, and included farming instructions. Rose started another stack. Soon she fell into a rhythm. Notes on the construction of the abbey went in one stack, other instructional books in another, and leisure reading in a third. She sorted through the books far faster than she had anticipated, and took little time placing each stack on its own shelf. Now she only had the papers left to sort.
Gonfflet, Tintin, and Chugger were in and out of the room continuously, taking the small piles of things back to their owners. Rose caught bits and pieces of their conversation each time they came in, and found herself smiling more and more as she listened to them talk. The three were clearly becoming good friends, judging by how quickly Gonfflet and Chugger had accepted her nephew.
The papers were not so easy to sort as the books had been, as there seemed to be no rhyme or reason to the topics. A few pages were straightforward enough; a drawing of Great Hall here, a note on forestry there. But then there were the pages like the one with the layout of the cellars on one side and an unrelated poem on the other, or the scrap she'd found with half a recipe and a note reminding Martin of some event that surely had already passed. Rose glanced up as Martin and Gonff entered the room again. Martin must have seen her confused expression, because he set his basket on the bed and came to stand next to her. She showed him the paper with the cellar layout on one side and the poem on the other.
“It's a lovely poem, but what does it have to do with the cellars?” she asked.
Martin took the paper and examined it, scratching his ear absentmindedly. Finally he shrugged. “I can't see any connection between the two.” He handed it back to her. “You don't have to sort through those if you don't want to, I can organize them tonight. I know they're a bit confusing.”
Rose accepted the paper and gave him a defiant grin. “Is that a challenge?”
Gonff chuckled. “I think you'd best let her do it, Martin.”
Martin raised his paws in surrender. “Alright, I just wanted to offer.” He turned to the bookcase. “I see you've finished sorting the books.”
“Yes,” Rose said. She placed the paper in its own stack, and turned to point at the shelves. “Your notes on the abbey's construction are on the top shelf, organized by date whenever I could find it. The second shelf is poems and stories, and your instructional books are on the third shelf sorted by topic.”
Martin shook his head admiringly. “Thank you, that'll make it much easier to find things.”
Rose's grin softened at the complement. “You're welcome. I'm glad I could help.” She nodded to the baskets on the bed. “Is that everything?”
“Not quite,” Martin said. “There's at least one more basket to bring down, a few odds and ends, and the contents of the chest that Dinny and Grumm are bringing. They should be here any minute, we passed them on our way down.”
As if on cue, the two moles appeared in the doorway, carrying a hefty chest between them. Moving slowly and carefully, they set it down near the end of the bed. Grumm wiped sweat from the tip of his nose. “Yur, thur thee be, zur Marthen. Bur ay, that'n be even 'eavier than ee desker.”
Martin's eyebrows rose. “Did you empty the lower compartment?”
Dinny froze in the middle of wiping sweat from his eyes and slapped his forehead. “Oi knowed we'm furgotten some'at.”
Martin went to the chest and unlatched two cleverly concealed hinges near the bottom. Opening the wooden panel, he pulled out a helmet, followed by a pair of gauntlets. He smiled and shook his head, handing the helmet to Grumm. “This is why the chest was so heavy.”
Grumm hefted up the helmet until he could look in the visor. “Bur aye, Oi carn't 'magine wearin' some'at this 'eavy in'o ee battle, et be gurtly 'eavy.” He handed the helmet back to Martin, and the warriormouse grinned as he slid it on.
His voice echoed strangely from inside the metal. “Don't ever get into the business of war, then, and you won't have to worry about it.”
Gonff waggled a paw in his ear. “What was that, mate? Couldn't quite hear.” He winked at Rose and held a paw to his lips, carefully removing a small stone from his sling-pouch and moving behind Martin.
Martin turned this way and that, his vision compromised by the helmet. He lifted the visor and looked about, repeating his previous statement. “Don't get involved in war, then you won't have to worry about having to wear armor.”
Clang!
Gonff tapped the slingstone on the back of Martin's helmet. Martin ducked forward on instinct and the visor slid down with a resounding crash. The warriormouse swayed in place momentarily, then carefully pulled off the helmet. He shook his head several times, a dazed expression on his face. Dinny and Grumm were both chuckling, and even Rose had to crack a smile. It was clear that Martin was only startled, not injured. Still holding the helmet, he began looking around for the source of the tap. Rose saw Gonff quickly stowing the pebble in his pouch, and decided it was time to pick her side. She got Martin's attention with a quick flick of her paw, then discretely pointed at Gonff. It only took a moment before understanding dawned on Martin's face.
“Gonff,” he said, slowly moving between the mousethief and the door, “You've never tried this on before, have you?”
Gonff was not fooled. “Oh no you don't, mate. I ain't putting that contraption on my head.” He ducked away as Martin tried to slip the helmet over his head.
Soon the pair were running around the small room, Martin staying between Gonff and the door as he attempted to catch the mousethief. There was a wild gleam in his eye. Dinny and Grumm were both bent double with laughter, and Rose found herself wiping away tears of mirth as Martin chased Gonff around the small space. Finally he cornered Gonff between the desk and the wall, and slid the helmet over his head.
Gonff immediately stuck his paws out crying, “Let me out! It's dark in 'ere!” He walked forward stiff legged, tripped, and sprawled on the floor, narrowly avoiding Rose's tail. She quickly pulled her tail into her lap, and marveled that it hadn't been stepped on during the chase. A few of the papers had scattered across the floor, though.
Martin stood looking at Gonff, shaking his head and trying to hide the grin spreading across his face. “You alright there, mate?” He asked, barely keeping the laughter out of his voice. Gonff grumbled something inside the helmet, though the sound was so garbled that Rose couldn't make out the words.
“Oohahahaahaahaha, wha-wha-what wa-a-as that? Ehehehehehehe, I cou-couln't he-he-hear you. Hahahahahha.” She doubled over gasping with laughter, tears streaming down her face.
Gonff sat up and struggled to lift the helmet off his head. He had to wait until Martin grasped the offending object and pulled it off. “I said,” he paused to probe at a tooth, “This room is bigger than I thought. I was aimin' for the bed.” He spotted Rose holding her tail in her lap and frowned. “I didn't step on you, did I?”
Rose was still laughing far too hard to answer, so she shook her head and let Martin answer for her. “You almost did, Gonff. You need to watch where you're going.”
“Well pardon me for not being able to see in that thing,” Gonff spluttered. He fixed Martin with a mock glare, but it faded quickly and within moments he was smiling again. “How do you avoid tripping when you're wearing that?”
“Very carefully,” Martin said. He took the helmet and placed it back in the chest, together with the gauntlets. Fixing the panel back in place, he stood and surveyed the room. “I'm sorry Rose, we've made a mess of all your hard work.”
Rose shook her head, finally getting her laughter under control. “It's alright, I hadn't really started anyways.” She watched Grumm bend to pick up a paper, only to have Gonff blow it out of his reach. The mole simply continued after the paper, picked it up, and handed it to her before going to collect others. Martin and Dinny followed suit, and after a few more moments of sitting on the ground blowing papers around, Gonff joined in as well. Rose stuck with gathering the papers that had fallen within arm’s reach. As with the rest of the papers, they were mostly notes and poems, although a few sketches had been scattered into the mix.
“This is beautiful,” Rose said, pausing with a detailed drawing of a butterfly in her paw. She gently traced the line of the wings while watching Martin from the corner of her eye.
His ears went red and he murmured a quick, “Thank you.”
Rose smiled and set the paper on top of the rest, the reached for the next one. It was another sketch, even more detailed than the last. A squirrel, turned away from the viewer so that the face was hidden. Rose thought that perhaps it was Lady Amber, momentarily frozen in time. Perhaps Martin had drawn it after a battle during the Mossflower War. The squirrel stood staring into the distance, obviously ready to move at any moment, with the tail curled over the ears. Although, that couldn’t be right. Rose very clearly remembered her meeting with the squirrel queen, and how Lady Amber had need to hold her circlet in place when she bowed, as she was missing one ear. But if the squirrel wasn’t Lady Amber, then who?
“Rose?” Rose looked up to see Martin and Gonff standing by the door. “We’ll be back soon, just going to get the last few baskets.”
She managed a quick smile. “I’ll be here.”
Dinny and Grumm followed the two mice out, and Rose soon found herself alone with her thoughts. She placed the paper on the ground and continued sorting, glancing at it from time to time as she tried to figure out why it looked so familiar. Poems, notes, construction layouts, and even random scribbles soon found their way into piles on the floor. The squirrel sketch was soon joined by others, first a mouse, then an otter, then another squirrel. All of them from the back, all of them familiar, though she still couldn’t place any of them. She was about to add the sketches to her original stack of drawings when she found a sketch that made her breath catch in her throat. She recognized the figure immediately. How could she not? It was Brome, several seasons younger, around the age he’d been during the events of Marshank. He sat facing the sea, his healer’s bag slung over his shoulder, the hastily scribbled lines spelling the alertness of creature ready for battle. A quick glance at the other sketches confirmed this was the same across the images.
Rose peered at the first sketch again, this time seeing what she’d missed. The squirrel bore an eerie resemblance to her dear friend Barkjon, even from the back, and both shoulders were covered with the patchwork scars that come from a whip. It could be no other than Felldoh. She traced the lines with a finger, wondering how long ago Martin had drawn the sketch. Had it been while he still had his memories of Marshank? Or had the image come to him after he had forgotten? The thought of Martin drawing his friends with no knowledge of who they were brought tears to her eyes, but none of the sketches were labeled, so she had no way of knowing. With a sigh, she gathered the sketches into a stack and placed them below the other drawings she’d collected. Regardless of whether or not she wanted to remind Martin of his past, shoving a bunch of pictures in his face and insisting that she knew them didn’t seem like the best route to take.
Gonff shivered in his cloak as he followed Martin over the packed snow. No matter how many layers he wore, the wind seemed to bite right through him. Still, the snow did make Redwall beautiful. The great redstone walls were softened by the cap of snow that topped the battlements, causing the sandstone to turn a rose-colored hue.
Rose-colored stone, that was what Martin always called the sandstone. Gonff had never thought anything of it, until today. He thought back to when he'd first met Martin, half-starved but still ready to fight in the dungeons of Kotir. The warrior hadn't said much about his past, just mentioned a few names and spun a tale of leaving his home the autumn before. Funnily enough, now that he thought about it, one of the names Martin had mentioned, Felldoh, was the same name as one of the otters visiting the abbey. Rose had recognized the name of a flower in Martin's study book, and she and Brome just happened to be looking for a warrior friend of theirs who had wandered south seasons ago.
“Are you coming, Gonff?” Martin called from the gatehouse door.
Gonff made a show of staggering toward his friend. “I'm comin' mate, me ole' joints don't work as well as they used to.” The ploy worked and soon Martin was chuckling at the comical sight.
“You're not that old, silly.”
“Not yet I'm not,” Gonff responded. He brushed past Martin and into the gatehouse. The cozy space seemed emptier without the desk and bookshelf. The large, sturdy bed, a gift from the otters of holt Tungro, sat in the same corner it had first been placed in. The frame was so heavy that Dinny had declared it not worth moving every other season. Heavy quilts lay draped across mattress, neatly folded to be ready for Martin when he moved back out next spring. The last three baskets and a pile of clothes sat on top of these, together with a staff that leaned against the wall. Gonff grabbed one of the baskets, and was attempting to balance the staff on top when Martin took it from him.
“Let me get that,” he said.
Gonff sniffed. “Don't you know? I'm Prince of Balancers, mate.” He stuck his nose in the air and frowned. Martin chuckled again, shaking his head.
The door opened, and Dinny and Grumm waddled into the gatehouse. “Burr, et bees tur'bly cold out yur,” Dinny said. “Be thur anythin' else t' take in?”
Martin nodded to the bed. “Just a few baskets and the clothes. Thank you both for helping.” The two moles grabbed a basket each, and turned back to the door, quietly chatting with each other. Martin clasped the staff under his arm and picked up the pile of clothes. With a nod to Gonff, he headed back out into the frozen white. Gonff sighed and headed out after him.
It took only a moment to catch up with Martin and the two moles. Martin walked silently, absentmindedly monitoring their surroundings as he always did. Dinny and Grumm, however, had discovered many things they had in common, and were conversing animatedly.
“Yur, so wha' 'appened to ee ratters after ee Badger Lord sent you'm all in'o ee sea arfter ee boater?” Grumm asked.
Dinny chuckled heartily, his eyes almost disappearing into the velvety folds of his fur as he smiled. “You'm should've seen thur faces. They'm were so scared they didn' know what to do. We'm sent them back o'er ee beach to they'm friends an took ee boat back t' Mossfl'wer. Et were full o' slaves an' weapons, so we'm set 'em all free. Oi named ee boat 'Wudship'. Et wer a good boat arfter all ee varmints were gone.”
“Ohohohoho, et zounds like ee gud boat,” Grumm said. “Oi been on a few. Ee Waterlilly were ee foin ship, an ee crew wer foin gen'elbeasts. They'm even made us zoop.”
“Hur, you'm loik zoop?”
“Grumm,” Gonff broke in, an idea coming to him suddenly, “Have you ever seen a laterose? Martin and Rose claim they grow in the north, but I’ve never heard of one.”
Grumm turned to Gonff and is smile grew even bigger. “Hurr, o’ course Oi’ve seen ee laterozers. They’m grown aplenty ‘round Noonvale, but not much elsewurr. Whoi, that’n be Mizz Rozer’s name too.”
“Her name is Laterose?” Gonff asked.
“So et be,” Grumm said.
Gonff dropped back and the conversation turned back to soups and other such things. Why hadn’t Rose bothered to mention that Laterose was her full name or that the flowers grew specifically around Noonvale? Even if she had never met Martin before, surely she would have noted that he must have been near Noonvale before. Unless there was something else she wasn’t telling. As he followed Martin into Great Hall, Gonff’s mind turned back to the first summer spent in the abbey. He couldn’t say if it was moving out of Brockhall that did it, or the new surroundings of Redwall, but Martin’s nightmares had increased in number that summer. Gonff knew this only because he had a habit of dropping in on the warrior before Martin was properly awake. There had been more than one occasion, however, when he’d turned up to find Martin awake especially early, sitting in the gatehouse surrounded by sketches of creatures all turned away from the viewer.
Gonff was so lost in his memories that he walked into the doorframe of Martin's room. “Goodness me,” he said, “Who put that there?”
Dinny raised a digging claw. “Tha' wud be Oi.”
Rose, who had finished sorting the papers while they were gone, laughed aloud. “Is moving always this fun?”
Martin grinned at her as he set his clothes and staff on the bed. “No, only when visitors are around. Then he shows off.” He started refolding his tunics as Gonff, Dinny, and Grumm deposited their baskets on the floor. Rose joined Martin in folding while the other three sorted through the contents of the baskets. Gonff watched her out of the corner of his eye. Something about her seemed to take away Martin's edge, he became more relaxed around her, almost as though her very presence ensured that everything would be alright.
“What's this?”
They had nearly finished sorting when Rose asked the question. She had picked up Martin's staff, and was running a paw across the carved hardwood.
“Folgrim made it for me,” Martin said quietly. “He's quite talented with a blade.”
He was indeed. The staff was so intricately carved it looked like a living thing. The top of the staff was carved into an detailed filigree orb with ivy and climbing roses falling out over the joint where the ball met the rest of the staff. The life-like leaves and flowers seemed to emerge directly from the staff itself, weaving around the wood to create a convenient handle.
Rose nodded, still looking at the staff. “It's beautiful. Sturdy too. Do you use it when you go hiking in the woods?”
Martin shook his head, placing the last of the tunics into his chest. “It doesn't get much use,” he said.
Gonff snorted. “Doesn't get much use?” Martin shot him a glare, but Rose had already caught the tone in Gonff's voice. She looked at him questioningly.
Martin beat him to the answer. “Only when I was recovering from a summer cold.” There was a flatness in his tone that put an end to the conversation. Gonff continued sitting on the floor watching Rose as she watched Martin. The warrior stood staring at the wall above the bed, tensed as though ready to run. An uncomfortable silence filled the room before Rose broke it with a new topic.
“Tintin says you're familiar with the legend of Sheodin.” Her voice was soft, almost apologetic.
Gonff jumped on the opportunity; the beginning of an idea regarding Rose and her traveling companions was forming in his mind, but he need to check something first. “Aye, Martin's the one who told most of us about it after he found a copy in Bella's study. It's upstairs in the library now, if you want to see it.”
This idea seemed to please Rose immensely. “Is it really? I’d love to see it. I thought there were only a few written copies.”
Martin smiled, the tension easing from his shoulders as he took up the explanation. “Bella’s family has lived in Mossflower for generations. Her great-great-grandfather commissioned the book. She donated it to our library a few seasons back.”
Gonff grinned, he loved it when things went according to plan. “Martin, why don’t you take Rose upstairs and show her? We three,” he motioned to himself and the two moles, “Can finish up here.”
“Are you sure?” Martin asked, glancing between Gonff and the other two. Rose appeared quite interested in the idea.
Gonff stalled any further arguments from Martin by standing and gently pushing his friend toward the door. “Leave it to us, mate. We’ll get the rest of this sorted and returned to their owners.”
Martin paused a moment more, then gave Gonff a small smile “Thank you, mate.” He led Rose from the room, quietly telling her more of the library and the books it contained.
Gonff watched them go, then turned to the desk where Rose had stacked the papers she’d sorted.
“Be’s you alookin’ fer summat?” Dinny asked.
Gonff nodded. “Aye, I just want to see if Martin still has something.” His paw flitted between the stacks of paper. Rose had done her job well. The notes on the abbey architecture were neatly placed next to a collection of loose poems, recipes and random notes were in another. The stack Gonff was looking for was near the back. He frowned as he began leafing through the pages. The sketches seemed innocent enough until halfway through the pile. The papers fluttered lazily as he flipped  from one to the next. Many different creatures, all facing away from the viewer, and sketch upon sketch of a small, walled compound. Gonff was searching for one sketch in particular, which he had seen by chance one day when he’d gone to wake Martin. Martin had finished the sketch in a hurry, and tucked it beneath a pile of other papers, but Gonff had managed to catch a glimpse. He flipped to the next page and paused, then pulled the sketch free of the others.
It was a mousemaid, not yet fully grown. Like all the others, she was turned away so that her face could not be seen, but that didn’t keep Gonff from recognizing what he was looking for. Martin’s rushed lines somehow always conveyed something or other about the creature pictured, and this sketch was no different. The maid could be none other than Rose, Gonff was certain, but now he had an even bigger question. If Rose had known Martin before he came to Mossflower, then why hadn’t she said anything yet?
17 notes · View notes