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helnjk · 3 years

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Stitching Together - G.W.

George Weasley x fem!reader

Requested: yes !! by my lovely bean marissa @lumos-barnes

please accept my humble request for a george x reader where the reader owns a shop in diagon alley and one day they walk into WWW and george knocks over a whole display, he is a complete SIMP & cannot compose himself. complete buffoonery when the reader is near. they become friends & do all these nice things for each other and the reader is oblivious like "george, i'm so lucky to be your friend" (even though the reader is secretly simping) and he's like "um what, i'm literally in love with you"

Word count: 3.1k

Warnings: mentions of meals and drinks (coffee), but other than that it’s just pure fluff & Dumb Idiots In Love

A/N: somehow i always end up writing george knitting? idk how it happened, but it happened. i hope you like it marissa 🥺💕

–

You took a step back to admire your handiwork.

After what seemed like neverending hours, the layout of your shop was finally perfect. From where you stood, you had a view of the streets of Diagon Alley, several passersby coming and goings from your sight. The display of charmed knit work by the window was already moving, demonstrating simple stitches that formed into a scarf.

It had always been your dream to open up your own shop in the most prominent wizarding area of Britain, with your passion for knitting and crafting, but the timing had always been off. Now, about a year or so since the war had ended, your grandmother surprised you with the capital to make your dreams come true.

The gesture was extra special because she was the one who first taught you how to knit. Many summers were spent in her cottage, sitting side by side and working on personal projects together.

Outside, your sign read ‘Stitching Together: Grand Opening’. There were a few flyers posted right on the door and on the window advertising the different classes and crafting groups you were offering, as well as the different products that could be found in your store.

It was as if your heart could burst at the sight of your fully furnished shop and you could wait no longer. With a flick of your wand, the sign on the door flipped to say open and that was that.

–

“Hey Freddie, have you seen that new shop that’s opened down the street?” George yelled from the bottom of the stairs once the last customer of the day made their leave.

“Haven’t gone in, but it’s gotten a lot of customers from what I can tell!” the disembodied voice of his twin replied from somewhere above.

As he began the process of cleaning up and reshelving, products floating in midair or zooming towards their proper shelves, he called out once more, “What type of store is it d’you reckon?”

“Arts and crafts? Something like that.”

George’s eyes drifted towards the shop window, where he could just barely see the outline of the new store. Dusk had begun to set in London, so the sky was filled with brilliant hues of purple and orange. His curiosity getting the better of him, he decided that he would go welcome the new shop owner to Diagon Alley.

With a shout to let his twin know where he was off to, George strode out of Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes and into the brisk weather. Luckily for him, Stitching Together was still open. He could see you bustling around inside, fixing displays and swishing your wand to tidy everything up.

It had only been around a month since your shop had opened, but the local wizard folk of London seemed to be very keen on buying the different things you sold. Many came around to purchase the instructional books and the different kinds of wool and yarn, and some of your regulars had even taken an interest in the classes you held weekly. It was a great way for you to get to know the community and to establish friendships.

You had always taken note of the joke shop a few shops down from you, but with the hustle and bustle of just opening, you hadn’t had a chance to visit or introduce yourself to the owners. It was just your luck that one half of them pushed open the door to your shop, the little bell at the top of it ringing to indicate his presence.

“Oh, hello!” you smiled, turning to face the redheaded man, “Welcome to Stitching Together, what could I help you with?”

Unbeknownst to George, your heart began to beat rapidly in your chest. How could a man be so positively handsome you didn’t know, but at the sight of him standing by the door, all you could think about was how gorgeous he was. And he hadn’t even uttered a single word yet!

The charming smile he sent your way did not help the heat you could feel creeping up your neck. “Just popping by to say hello and welcome to Diagon Alley! My twin and I run Wheezes just down the street,” he said.

Your smile grew as he stuck his hand out for you to shake, “Oh I was just thinking about how I’ve been wanting to pay your shop a visit! I’m Y/N, by the way.”

“George Weasley at your service,” his hand was firm and warm as he shook yours, eyes sparkling with something you couldn’t quite name. “Nice to meet you!”

“So tell me about your shop!”

Somehow, after that evening, George Weasley snuck his way into becoming a part of your daily routine.

Every morning he would show up with two cups of coffee in hand right before your shop was set to open. After realizing that you depended on caffeine to function throughout your day, he made it a point to bring you one everyday. As you sipped on your coffees, the two of you would spend a few minutes chatting about your plans for the day before going to work.

Whenever you would offer to pay for your own cup or even try to insinuate that you could get your own coffee in the morning, just so that he wouldn’t have to go through the trouble, he would stop you in your tracks.

“But George–”

“Nope!” he would say in a voice louder than yours. “I’m doing this out of the kindness of my heart. I really feel for your customers who have to deal with a Y/N that hasn’t had her coffee fix. Could you imagine the grumpiness? Not on my watch!”

You would roll your eyes, but secretly it warmed your heart how sweet this boy could be. He was slowly inching his way into your life and becoming a great friend.

–

“So,” said Fred one day as George had gotten back from delivering your daily coffee, “The bird from the knitting shop, huh?”

His twin only rolled his eyes in response, used to the teasing that came with being brothers (and twins) with Fred Weasley. Instead of engaging, George went instead to do the routine last check over their store before they officially opened their doors. Still, Fred couldn’t resist the temptation to continue provoking him.

“Oi! C’mon, you bring her coffee everyday even if you don’t like the stuff. If I don’t remind you that you have a store to run, you would spend the whole day staring out the window just to catch a glimpse of the girl! Tell me you’re not whipped for her,” he teased, following George through the shop.

From their position at the till and on the second floor, both Verity and Lee tried to hide their smirks. This was too good a story to not eavesdrop on.

“Come off it, Fred.” George rolled his eyes. “I’m just being a good friend, that’s all!”

“Yeah but you wouldn’t mind being more than friends.”

The cheeky wink Fred sent George was not appreciated, as the prior soon found out, having to duck away from a stinging hex. Still, Fred’s laugh rang through the semi-empty store as he ran away from his brother.

Later in the day, as the lunch crowd tapered off, the four of them were left to mull around a bit. Lee and Verity were off taking stock in the back room, Fred was doing some accounting (because his twin couldn’t be trusted with any sort of math), and George was reshelving some Skiving Snackboxes.

The bell above the door to the shop rang, but he couldn’t quite tell who came in from his position towards the back of the shop.

“Welcome to Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes!” he yelled, rushing to get all the boxes in order before he could help the new customer, “I’ll be with you in just a second!”

Just as he admired his handiwork, eyes scanning the display to make sure nothing was out of place, a familiar voice called from behind him, “It’s alright, take your time. I’m not looking for anything in particular.”

George almost jumped out of his skin as he heard your voice. He was so surprised that as he turned to meet you, his elbow caught on the edge of one of the Snackboxes and the whole thing toppled over.

You watched as the tower of boxes crumbled around him, and your hand automatically covered your mouth as you tried to contain your laughter. It didn’t work, though, and soon the whole store could hear your guffaws.

Thankfully, George was a wizard, and what would’ve taken a muggle quite some time to fix, only took a quick flick of his wand.

“Oops,” you smiled at him bashfully as he finished, “Didn’t mean to startle you, Weasley.”

“Erm, it-it’s alright,” he blushed, “I just didn’t expect you to come ‘round today.”

In truth, the reason why George was so flustered at your appearance at his shop was because he had just spent most of the afternoon thinking about you. He often did that, getting lost in his thoughts about the many little things that made you, well, you. The deep breath you took before that first sip of coffee in the morning, revelling in the aroma. How your face lit up when you spoke about the different people you met in your classes. Your hands and how skillfully they worked whatever project you were creating at the moment.

He wouldn’t admit it to Fred, but what his twin had said earlier in the day was accurate. He was absolutely smitten over you.

“Well you’ve been a regular over at mine for the last couple of weeks, I’m just returning the favor and visiting my favorite redhead at his place of work!”

“I-I,” he stuttered, his brain refusing to acknowledge the fact that he was your favorite anything.

Fred, who had heard the commotion and had gone down to check if everything was okay, nearly face palmed as he watched George fumble through his words. The man was whipped for you, no doubt about it, and as a good twin, he decided to save his brother from further humiliation.

“I think what my lovely twin here is trying to say, is that you just haven’t met enough redheads to make your decision about your favorite one,” he said, smoothly inserting himself into the conversation. “Fred Weasley, at your service!”

Your smile immediately brightened at the sight of George’s twin holding out his hand for you to shake, “Nice to meet you! I’m Y/N, George’s told me loads about you!”

“Has he?” Fred raised his eyebrow, turning to look at George who was still a little dumbstruck at the sight of you in his shop. “Well, that just means it’s my turn to spend some time with such a lovely lady. C’mon, I’ll give you a tour of the shop!”

“Oh I’d love that.”

With a small glance and wave at George, you took the arm that Fred was holding out for you, and so began his (largely amusing) tour of Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes.

“What in Merlin’s name was that!” yelled Fred the moment you left the shop.

George groaned into his hands, embarrassment creeping back into him. He had acted a fool, unable to even mutter a single sentence to you the whole time you were around.

“Mate, I have never seen you so flustered around a girl,” his twin muttered, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder, “Just tell her you’ve got feelings for her! Ask her on a date, do something! From what I could tell, you’re not the only one who’s caught feelings.”

“It’s not like that between us,” he said, “I doubt she even notices how much I fancy her.”

–

Somehow, George wound up taking Fred’s advice. Though, in typical-George fashion, he never explicitly mentioned to you anything about the way he felt.

Instead, he would stay around your shop longer in the mornings, taking slower than usual sips of his coffee (which he still couldn’t say he preferred over a good cup of tea). Other days, he would come around closing time and help put everything back in order and if he was lucky, the two of you would go out to dinner. Of course, he would also never let you pay a sickle for your meal, no matter how much you insisted.

Weekends were usually spent together as well.

Saturdays were for brunch and muggle films on the telly. It was one of the rare occasions he would drink a beverage in front of you that wasn’t that (god forsaken) coffee.

Sundays were more for crafting together. He would floo into your flat after having lunch with his family and the two of you would continue working on his little project.

“My mum loves to knit,” he mentioned one day, while he observed your quick hands skillfully moving the thread through your needles. “She knits us all sweaters for Christmas. It’s become a tradition of sorts.”

“That’s lovely,” you smiled up at him.

“Yeah, anyone who’s practically family gets one too. Like Harry and Hermione,” he mused.

“I could teach you how to knit her something, if you wanted,” you offered. “It’d be something pretty simple though, especially if you’ve never knitted anything before.”

The smile he sent you was so dazzling, you had to take a moment. You were practically melting under his tender gaze and you swallowed thickly, trying to gain your composure.

“That’d be bloody brilliant, Y/N!”

You only hoped he didn’t notice how your face got hot and how your hands couldn’t move the needles to do what you wanted, too flustered to be precise with your movements.

Since then, the two of you spent most of Sunday afternoons making sure George had the correct strings of yarn on the correct needle. You would keep a close eye on him and his progress, but most of the time he was alright on his own. Sometimes, he would purposely sit closer to you on your couch and you could practically feel the warmth radiating from him.

In between knits, your eyes would drift towards his focused face and you would smile. George had a habit of poking the tip of his tongue out when he was knitting. Something about the gesture helped him concentrate, and you found it absolutely adorable.

The more time you spent together, though, the more confused George got. It was getting to a point where in his head, it was impossible to miss what he was trying to say with his actions. You had to have caught on by now. And, since you hadn’t acknowledged what was going on between the two of you, he had assumed that this was your polite way of rejecting him.

On a chilly morning, he clutched the warm cups of coffee in his hands as he pushed the door to Stitching Together open with his back.

“Morning, Y/N!” he greeted.

You grinned in his direction as he made his way towards you. The moment he placed the warm drink in your hands and you took your first sip, a small moan of gratefulness escaped your lips.

“Merlin, I don’t deserve you,” you mumbled to your cup.

“Sorry?” George asked, brows furrowed slightly.

“Oh nothing!” you quickly said, “I’m just really glad you’re my friend, Georgie.”

Friend.

The word seemed to make his heart sink down to his stomach and ignite something in him at the same time. It was time that he told you how he felt, no matter what would happen afterwards. He couldn’t keep going on pretending he wasn’t head over heels in love with you.

“Erm, about that Y/N,” he began, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his work uniform, “I’ve got to tell you something.”

It was now or never.

You smiled up at him encouragingly, almost oblivious to the bundle of nerves that were most definitely visible in his expression.

“I-I don’t want to be just friends, Y/N,” he said, lips pursed in anticipation.

“What do you want then?” you still didn’t understand what he was trying to say.

In a burst of confidence, George took your hands in his and gripped them tightly, “I want to be with you. I fancy you loads, I think I might even be in love with you, Y/N. Honestly, I might’ve been in love with you from the moment I first walked into your shop.”

Your lack of an immediate response left him to back track, “But I understand completely if you don’t feel the same way, I just wanted to get it out there.”

For a moment, the two of you were silent. George eyed you nervously, wondering what was going on through your head, bracing himself for the rejection that he thought was on the tip of your tongue.

Finally, he couldn’t take it anymore, “Y/N? Do you want me to go?”

Instead of answering, you flung your arms around his neck. He was so startled at your sudden gesture that he almost didn’t notice your lips on his. Almost.

As suddenly as you had kissed him, all of his apprehensions melted away. Almost automatically, his arms found themselves wrapped around your waist and he pulled you closer to him. Your lips melted together seamlessly. It was as if this was where the two of you were meant to be, and you couldn’t help but smile into the kiss.

Sooner than you had liked, George pulled away from you slightly. Despite his best efforts, he couldn’t help but dip his head down to peck your lips again. Once, twice, three times. This left you a giggly mess, your nose scrunching up in a way that was practically begging him to kiss it as well.

“Does that mean you fancy me too?” he murmured against your lips.

“Absolutely, head over heels,” you smiled in return.

The pair of you spent a brief moment with your foreheads pressed together, giddy smiles on your faces. That was until a knock on the door of your shop sounded. Immediately, you sprung apart, a blush coating tip of George’s ears and cheeks.

A few people stood outside, eyeing you amusedly.

“Oh shit,” you said, hurrying to flip the sign on the door to say ‘open’ and to unlock the door with a flick of your wand. “I completely forgot I had a class today.”

As the small group of people began to file inside, they sent knowing glances your way to which you only groaned softly and looked up at George.

“I’ll see you tonight?” you asked hopefully.

With a kiss to your cheek and a mischievous grin he said, “You can count on it, love.”

–

General taglist: @expectoevans @george-fabian-weasley @gxthsanrio @slytherinscribbles @harpyloon @nuttytani @mesmerisedangel @amourtentiaa @sarcasticallywitty15 @lumos-barnes

Weasley twins taglist: @whizboingies @pineapplesandpinas @papapapadumb @Mrs-g-weasley @a-castle-of--glass @hey-there-angels @leovaldez37 @pinkypurplemagic @werewolfslut @surprizeshawtyy

crossed out means i couldn’t tag you for some reason, sorry!

#george weasley #george weasley fanfiction #george weasley imagines #george weasley imagine #george weasley fics #george weasley fic #george weasley x reader #george wealsey x y/n #tw meal mention #tw drink mention

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henryobsessed · 3 years

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The Veterinarian and the Werewolf

Word Count: 1800

Summary: The calm before the storm

A/n hello, and thanks again @sillyrabbit81 for reading and editing for me :)

Chapter 11

Henry was angry. It was truly the first time he had allowed himself to feel such anger in almost fifteen years. Everything that was happening, all the pieces coming together to paint a picture of that night, it didn’t bring healing like it should, instead, it just bought more pain. All the locked away feelings he had tried so hard to forget from the past kept coming up, especially when he saw Tom’s face. Everything in him wanted to go full wolf, ignore human laws and decimate his friend’s abusers. If he had not felt a strong need to comfort Tom, to help heal some of his wounds then he would have snuck out right there and then.

But Jessie had different ideas, even after the boys left, she insisted he stay by her side. It was as if she knew what he was thinking, knew he would be reckless. When they arrived at the house, he did a quick sniff of the perimeter before feeling secure that there were no new smells. He found Jessie in the kitchen making a coffee. What he wouldn’t give to taste the magic brew again, it had been so long since his last sip. Wondering if she would understand him, he padded over to her and bumped her leg, put his nose in the air, sniffed at the cup she had finished pouring and then yipped. For the first time in a few days she smiled, a genuine large smile. “Did you want some coffee, Henry?” He yipped again, this time emphasising it with his tongue panting.

She found a small ceramic bowl and poured some coffee into it, she picked it up and placed it on the coffee table in the living room. It was the perfect height for him to first sniff the delectable scent, then hesitantly dip his tongue in. It was perfect, she had made it smooth, bold, and milky. He turned his head to her and almost laughed at the look on her face as she watched with anticipation. “Is it ok? I can change it if you don’t like it that milky.” Her nervousness was real, and he wanted to show her how much he liked it, so instead he turned around and lapped the whole bowl up before jumping on the couch and giving her a series of long sloppy kisses on the cheek. Giggling Jessie squealed, “Henry! Stop! If that’s a yes you liked it then great. But if that’s just a reaction to the coffee then no more for you mister.” He stopped immediately not wanting the coffee to stop.

Henry curled up next to her on the couch laying his head in her lap. It was the only intimate thing that he could do whilst he was still in wolf form. He wanted her to know she was safe. Her fingers began to caress his fur, threading through massaging his skin. The tension and anger melted, all that mattered at that moment was his mate.

She softly cleared her throat, “Henry, I need to let you know about something important. Please yip if you are understanding me.” It had been a while since her voice had not made sense, another sign he hoped that he was closer to the surface. “Yip” was his reply. Her body sagged a bit. “Good, I have insisted Tom come to live here for a while until he is safe to go home. But that might be a long while. I learned something this morning and I need to tell you, but I don’t want you to overreact, ok?”

Overreact, what was she talking about? Henry listened intently a soft growl intimating he heard but was not happy. “Tom, well Tom is my secret admirer.” At that comment, Henry leapt up sitting his full height on the couch. His eyes bored into Jessies, looking to see if what she said was true and not a horrible joke. But the seriousness on her face confirmed her words. Both her hands came up and cradled his muzzle, keeping his eyes on hers as she spoke with authority. “Now listen to me Henry, I know you have been jealous and I appreciate you trying to protect me from Boyd. But you know Tom, he is sweet, caring, and young. You have nothing to be jealous of. I see him as more of a younger brother, heck even as a son. So, you have nothing to fear, I want you to continue to care for him just as you have been. He needs our love and affection right now, not more rejection. Ok?”

Not sure how he felt about it, on top of everything else, he flopped back down in her lap. Not willing yet to acknowledge what she was asking of him. She didn’t know how much it hurt to see her with another, to know outside of a dream he could not hold her. He settled enjoying her hands once again scratching behind his ear and smoothing his fur. They stayed like that until the sound of multiple footsteps sounded at the front door, Henry jumped up and ran to the door his fur heckled and a low growl sending out a warning. “Hey Jessie, Wolfy, it’s just us.” Jessie walked past him and opened the door showing a mountain of bags hiding the two boys behind.

Henry’s heckles stayed up as he watched the wall of bags shuffle into the room. It wasn’t till the bags had been placed down, and Tom’s face was shown again, that his fur smoothed down, at that moment he made his mind up. No matter how painful it was seeing someone else fawn over his mate, he would treat Tom as family. He walked up to Tom, rubbing his body up against him then gave his hand a quick lick. Tom’s hand rested on his head-scratching behind his ear. “Thanks, Wolfy. I missed you too buddy.” Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Jessie with a soft smile on her face.

Joe stayed for dinner, the foursome enjoyed steak and veggies, with ice cream for dessert. After dinner, Joe tried to convince the party too, “Have a fashion parade.” A chorus of no’s including a growl from Henry had him lifting his hands in surrender,.“Oh, you guys are no fun. At least let us get dressed in our pj’s.” Jessie frowned at this comment, causing Joe to explain, “We thought with everything going on it might be a good idea to have a slumber party. You know an extra body in case you know who decides to turn up.” Henry was surprised at Joe’s gesture. As excitable as the boy was he was a true friend to Jessie. Jessie, he could see, was struggling and if he guessed her problem, it was accepting help. She had been independent for so long, had to be strong for herself, work everything out for herself. He could only guess if she was anything like himself that she would try to back out of this extra support.

Before she had a chance to speak, he pushed towards her, growling low making her look at him. He put as much feeling behind his eyes as he could trying harder than ever to push towards the surface. The message he wished to convey was one of “please, accept their help.”

She looked at him, her head cocked to one side before her ridged stance melted and her soft voice yielded. “As long as Dillon is ok with it, Joe that’s fine. Heaven knows this house has enough rooms to have 3 separate guests so I’m ok with you having a ‘slumber party.” Joe whooped at that and ran to ring his boyfriend.

Henry had to snigger, here she was surrounded by boys, Tom was 19, and Joe 22 they had gone and changed into PJ’s that had caused Jessie to giggle, the Pokémon images outlined on the two-piece top and pants make them look like overgrown children. Confirmed by them pulling the cushions of the chairs and creating a fort with blankets for them to sit in and eat popcorn as they watched movies. It truly was a sight to see but Henry could tell she was slightly uncomfortable with the interaction. But with his body surrounding hers, she began to relax and enjoy the constant chatter of Joe and Tom.

As the clock chimed 11pm, the party began to go quiet, and eventually, Jessie put on her boss hat. “All right boys. Time for teeth, toilet, and bed, and I want this room set to rights before you head upstairs.” Yawns and tired agreements grumbled as Henry got up and yipped to Jessie. “You need to go out Henry?” It was the first time she had addressed him with his full name in front of the others.

Joe was the only one who made any note of it as he was picking up the last cushion. “I like that name, Jessie. It suits him.” She smiled at Henry, then let him out.

When he was back inside, they locked up the doors and walked silently upstairs. She poked her head in both rooms saying the good night before moving to her own room. After looking after her own needs Jessie snuggled under the covers. Henry positioned himself so he was stretched out next to her ready to hold her in his arms he shut his eyes pleading for sleep to come fast.

Trees, trees, and more trees, the more he pushed the thicker they grew as if they were alive and deliberately holding him back. Henry began to grow angry again, how dare they stop him from seeing his mate. His anger hit a point causing him to turn into his wolf while in the dream state. This allowed him to duck under the branches until he finally broke free into the clearing. There was Jessie, patiently waiting for her man but the look of shock on her face when wolf Henry broke through into the clearing was evident.

“Henry? Are you, ok?” He looked up at her, the anger still burning hot in his eyes. She stilled for a moment then sat patting her lap in an invitation for him to join her. He passed back and forth for a moment before his heart rate began to settle, then he walked forward, and laid down beside her. His head in her lap she gently caressed his fur before he was fully calm. At that moment his desire for her pulled to the front so much so that he began to shift, she stilled as his body creaked and popped until Henry’s head laid in her lap his naked body stretched out for all to see.

Chapter 12

#Theveterinarianandthewerewolf #henry cavill #werewolf #henry cavill x ofc

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gucciwins · 3 years

Text

it’s your birthday?

As luck would have it you once again find yourself in a breakout room with Harry

Word count: 3296

A/N: Hello friends, it’s a new semester and it felt only right to continue breakout room, a story that was well loved by you. The inspiration once again came to me during class and also because it’s Harry’s birthday. Thank you to the lovely @soullikestyles for reading this over. Here it is, enjoy!!!

I hope you love this, it is a continuation from Breakout Room

Please shoot me a message of what you thought!!!!

i love you, take care xx

_____

It's the start of a new semester. It's safe to say you did not make any friends last semester due to this ongoing pandemic, but what you did manage to get was a 3.9 G.P.A for the Fall semester. It was probably because you did not leave your apartment, and when you did, it was to go grocery shopping with your roommate, who would be dead without you because, as she liked to put it, you're the chef, and she's the taster.

Well, you maybe did make one friend.

Harry Styles.

He was the person to talk to you during a zoom breakout room in your women's gender studies course.

Sure, you were never in the same room again, but you might or might not have pinned his face during one of the professor's long ramblings that is no longer related to the course.

He was pretty to look at; you would never deny that.

No, with the floppy curls that he almost always seemed to run his hand through, then stopping when one of his rings got caught in a knotted ringlet. His camera would instantly turn off, and in thirty seconds, he was back as if nothing had happened. The glasses framed his face just right, making his eyes look soft and inviting. Also made his dimples stand out. He almost always wore a different colored cardigan. Your favorite from the semester was when he wore a multicolored cardigan. That looks like it was knitted; there was a hole by his heart. Honestly, you were hoping he had, would have made him even more endearing.

Also, might one day ask him to make you one, or he could even teach you. You're a fast learner and have patience.

He's got a great choice in clothing from what you was able to observe in such a short time—also a lovely personality.

After his initial email, you decided to answer, thus creating a chain of messages back and forth. He was honestly funny, and that was just on paper. He had asked for her number and said no, and he respected that. It doesn't mean they never helped each other in the class; Harry asking for more help than Y/N. She sent him over her notes and explained the readings he found harder to grasp.

As soon as finals week hit, she received her last email from him with the subject as Goodbye. It took you by surprise, and you erased the draft you had waiting for him that had your phone number wanting to keep talking to him. Still, clearly, he thought of them as just classmates for the semester, so without even opening his last email, you trashed it.

You felt guilty about it, so you then transferred it to your archives, where it sits with other unwanted emails.

_____

The holidays are over, and since you could not make the trip home, you celebrated with Amy, your roommate. You both help each other buy your family's presents, looking for the best discounts and adding extra items to get the free shipping. Together, well, mostly you as she handed you pieces of tape you wrapped present after present in brown wrapping paper. It was harder to tear and more comfortable to decorate in any way you wanted. On each box, it had everyone's name written in beautiful handwriting, courtesy of you. Then you would add snowflakes or stripes to make it stand out.

It was a success from their looks when each gift was open through the zoom call.

The month break flew by, and the next thing you knew, it was time to be back at your desk for hours of learning. It was fun until it wasn't sure there was a lot to look forward to, but you would miss sleeping all day and eating snacks in bed with no fear of forgetting to submit an assignment.

This semester you had four major courses. Psychology of Personality and Psychology of Aging were the two courses you were most looking forward to. You decided on taking the women's gender studies class called Politics of Sexuality. You had gotten the recommendation from the department's head to take it and did so without a second thought. Yes, fifteen units was a lot, but you were close to graduating, and you knew you could handle it.

The first week flew by because it was merely going over the syllabus. You had your camera on, but you did not bother to look at your other classmates. Sasha, a fellow person in your major, would be your study partner as she had been all semester. Sasha might not always be in the class section, but she did take the same professors and courses. It makes studying and taking notes easier. You know you won't always have Sasha, but having a study partner has ever made you do better.

February 1st. The start of the second week of the semester.

You woke up at seven, got the tea that Amy had ready for you, and were sitting at your desk by eight. Your professor droned on about the first chapter of the book. You felt confident knowing you understood the significant points.

It's 11:30, and your second course of the day is going to start. You were not looking forward to the class simply because Dr. Rossi had warned you he would be putting you into breakout rooms of two. That person would be your partner for the semester. You had a project due at the end of the semester, and he wanted you to be acquainted with someone rather than having a person working alone.

You sat there, Baby Yoda ceramic mug in hand, as you waited for your breakout room to load and to see who you were destined to work with for the next fourteen weeks.

There was a knock on your door that distracted you from seeing the video of someone else load.

"Sorry, I know you're in class, but I was wondering when lunch was to see how big of a snack I should have." Amy shoots you a small smile.

"No worries, Ames, I'm out at 12:45 and will need half an hour to cook, so roughly 1:30. Is that okay?" You tell her feeling a little awful, making her wait.

"It's perfect. Have a good class." Amy shuts the door.

As you hear the click, you turn back to your computer, and they're staring at you in a lavender cardigan with a white shirt underneath is the one and only Harry Styles.

His curls are shorter, meaning he recently got a haircut, and they are just growing back. You wished he had let it grow out, wanting to see how much more ruly they would have gotten.

You feel your face heat up, remembering you did not do your hair, instead of letting it sit messily in a low ponytail, small hair framing your hair. You were sure the black sweatshirt you had one had a hummus stain but too afraid to look down to check. You weren't even aware he was in this class; it shows you should be paying attention more to your classmates.

He shoots you a small smile, and you grimace, trying to force one out, but you're still a bit shocked.

You see his microphone go white, meaning he was about to speak. You leaned forward in anticipation, a bit desperate to hear his smooth accent through your computer speakers.

"Hello, it's been a while." Harry raises his glasses to hold back his hair.

You reach forward and unmute yourself. "Hello, Harry. It has been a while. It's a new year and everything." You joke.

He chuckles, scratching his chin. You aren't sure what to do; it was never this awkward the first time you chatted.

"Guess we're partners, huh."

"Apparently." You sigh, a bit loud, forgetting he can hear you.

"Ouch, don't need to sound too excited." He tells you not at all hiding his frown.

"No, I didn't." You stop not knowing how to go back from that. "Sorry, that was rude of me."

He nods, not saying anything more, and you take it as a sign to continue.

"I-i, well, after our last class ended, I figured that was that. You said goodbye in the last email, so I figured that was the end of our friendship, if you can even call it that."

"I thought my email would give the opposite impression, but not everything can translate as smoothly when talking." He tells you, which causes you to pause.

"Your email literally said goodbye," You blurt out before you can stop yourself.

He hides his smile, "My subject said goodbye, the content said quite the opposite. You did read it, right?"

You duck your head, not allowing yourself to meet his eye even through a computer screen, too embarrassed to be caught. "Well, no, I didn't. Hurt my feelings, just seeing the goodbye." You look up and see his eyes soften, giving you just a bit more courage to continue. "I've always struggled to make friends, I have like three good friends, and it's hard putting myself out there, and I didn't actually if you considered me a friend or not."

"Y/N" He breathes out your name.

You stop him before he can continue. "Do you mind if I read it now?"

Harry shakes his head.

You restore down the zoom and open up your Gmail on the split-screen. You find it reasonably quickly; you look up at him to see him patiently sitting back chipping at his nails. They are a pastel yellow; it makes you smile, knowing just yesterday you went from that color to a deep red.

[email protected]

Subject: Goodbye

Y/N,

It's been enjoyable emailing back and forth. I honestly would not have passed this class without you. I think you are brilliant and if I had you in every course, I would finish with A's in them all. So, thank you for having the patience to teach me.

Also, thank you for being my friend. I know we mostly talked about school work. Still, you did help me decide on what coat to buy for my sister, so I know that makes us friends, and I did help you get that switch for your little brother. (That was like trying to buy floor tickets for Lady Gaga.)

On another note, after emailing for twelve weeks, I was wondering if I could have your number. I would like the chance to give you a call and formally ask you on a date. I know we're in the middle of a pandemic, and dating is hard, but we can do zoom dates before we try in person.

I understand if it's a no, but I am really grateful to have met you.

Your friend (although I do want to try to be more)

Harry Styles

City Pointe Apt 32 (in case you want to send a care package, I would gladly return the favor)

"Oh, Harry," You inhale, "I'm so sorry."

"No worries." He shrugs.

You pause, thinking your next words. "I live in Rose Villa." Those were not the words you wanted to say, but you don't take it back.

"That's across the street from my building." He gasps. "We could have run into each other."

You nod. "Small world."

Harry brings his focus back to something you skipped over. "I realize you didn't mention the part of asking you on a date."

"Oh, I figured you over that now. It's been well over a month since I ignored your email." You grimace, starting to feel awful about it all over again.

"I guess it was email abandonment this time." He jokes.

You laugh, and it gets Harry laughing as well. He was always good at that, making you laugh and not be so serious even if he didn't know it.

"Y/N," Harry's voice was strong, no signs of laughter in his trace. You lock eyes as best you can through a computer screen. "I would still very much like to take you on a date."

A date with Harry.

You want to say yes, but it's like you're frozen.

"Can I say something else before you give me an answer?" You nod, waiting for him to go on. "Sarah Jones, do you know her?"

Sarah Jones, you rack your brain trying to place her.

The theater composer. She's written original tracks for the theatre department for the original plays they've done and remakes. She's won countless awards.

Sarah even won the talent show. Played a killer drum solo that no one else could ever think of topping.

If you're honest, she's the definition of your girl crush.

"We follow each other on social media. We met at a paint night; she was really easy to talk to." You tell him, remembering how sweet she was to you when she saw you walk in, and just as you were about to walk out, she introduced herself to you, asking to sit with you.

He nods. "Sarah is my roommate's girlfriend. Mitch and Sarah practically live together; he's so in love with her it truly is the sweetest thing. Back to the point, she overheard me talking about you to Mitch and spoke how she knew you. Then I proceeded to stalk your Instagram on her account. I hope that's not weird."

You laugh, and it causes Harry to calm down, "Not weird at all. I would have done the same thing, but as you can see, I rarely upload anything."

"Well, the things you do have, I think, are wonderful." He rambles on explaining how your beach photo on a bike with a pretty pink basket was one of his favorites and how cute you look wearing sweaters.

As endearing as Harry was being, you decided to put him out of his misery. "Harry," you interrupt.

"Yes."

"I'd love to go on a date with you."

"You would?" He gasps in surprise.

"Yes."

"That's fantastic. I think this is the best birthday gift I could have received." He tells you, but you're stuck on the last thing he said.

"It's your birthday?"

Harry smiles sheepishly. "Yes."

"Happy Birthday, Harry." You tell him softly, a big smile on your face.

A blush overtakes his face; you can tell he wishes to cover up his face with hands but holds back from doing so. "Thank you."

"Do you have any plans?"

"No, well. Mitch and Sarah are coming over for lunch in a bit. Then they are off to study at Sarah's for the week. Her roommates are gone for the week."

You frown, not liking that he'll spend the rest of his birthday alone.

"Would you-never mind" You stop yourself from being able to invite yourself over to celebrate with him?

"Hey, it's okay. Whatever you wanted to say, I wouldn't judge you, love." His voice was soft and reassuring.

"Well, I'd love to come over and hang out with you if that's okay. I can make us dinner, I make delicious enchiladas. Also, my carrot cake is to die for."

Harry is surprised at her offer but nods his head quickly. "That sounds wonderful, but you don't have to cook for me. We can order takeout."

She shakes her head. "Consider it my gift to you."

"Well, okay. Is six okay for you?" He bites his lip, not believing this is happening.

"Perfect."

You sit there smiling at each other.

When a message pops up overhead, "You have five minutes left before we join back as a group."

Your eyes go wide, having forgotten you were in class. "We didn't even discuss the assignment."

Harry shakes his head in laughter, a smile spreads over your face. He has an adorable laugh that just rings through your ears, and you can't wait to hear it in person.

"We've got time, now that it seems we'll be getting to know each other better."

You relax, settling a bit, you have weeks before the assignment is due.

"I'll email you my number, love. Easier to communicate for later."

"Sounds great." You respond.

_____

It's five-fifty, and you're standing outside his door. You're more than a little nervous. You're wearing high waisted jeans paired with a black off the shoulder top with floral embroidered sleeves. You decided against a sweater knowing the short walk would keep you warm enough. Your mask is red, with three small hearts stitched on the lower right side. Perfect for February.

You shift the items in your hand to the right and lift your hand up to knock. After three gentle knocks, you hear footsteps and take a step back.

"Hi," Harry breathes out, a big smile on his face.

"Hello, Harry, happy birthday."

"Thank you." He smiles wide, blessing you with his dimples. Definitely look better in person. "Please come in." He grabs some of the items from your hand and allows you to step in before locking the door behind you.

"Your mask is lovely. Did you make it?"

"I did!" You share excitedly. "My roommate, Amy, and I spent lots of our free time making a different kind. We took old shirts we no longer wanted and used for the material. It was a lot of trial and error, but we're pretty solid at it now. My embroidery could use some work, but I think it's lovely.

"It really is. Would you make me one?" He asks, staring at you as you pocket your mask. No longer needing it in his home.

"Yes, I'll send you pictures of the fabric I have, or you could come over, and I can teach you as well." You tell him, excited at the prospect.

"Sounds like a wonderful date." You nod, feeling your body get warm at the word date because today could also classify as a date.

Harry knocks you out of your head when calling your name. "Turned the oven on like you requested." He informs you.

"Thank you, my mom showed me how to make them, but I learned about the melted cheese on my own. She wasn't a big fan of it, but everyone else I know loves it, so I hope you will as well."

Harry grabs your hand and gives it a squeeze. "I'm sure it's wonderful." He bumps your shoulder gently. "Go finish up; I'll set the table."

He pushes you into the kitchen, and you go in and place your stuff. Harry is whistling, settling down on the table two glasses and two forks when you turn back around towards him.

Harry turns around just in time for you to wrap your hands around his waist. You fit perfectly in his arms, taking in his musky scent. "Happy birthday, Harry." You whisper against his chest.

He squeezes you tighter, leaning his head on top of yours. "Thank you, love."

He pulls back, holding you by your shoulders. A big smile on his face, you reciprocate it feeling his happiness warm your heart.

"Run along now; I'm starving." He jokes.

You walk backward, creating distance; as his left-hand trails down your right hand slowly until he's touching your fingertips, do you pull away. Although you, more than anything, wanted to hold his hand. You want to feel the weight of it in yours; you want to know if his hands are soft or calloused. How cool his rings will feel against your palm. All in due time.

"I'm happy to be here."

"Me too, love. Me too."

It's safe to say you were more than luckily going to have yourself a valentine for the first time in a long time.

#harry styles #harry styles blurb #harry styles x reader #fluff #harry styles fluff #zoom university #zoom online #harry styles writing #harry styles uni #my writing #harry styles fanfic

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its-nebula · 3 years

Text

V3 Boys x Pregnant S/O in the Killing Game

Warning: DRV3 Spoilers

“S/O is what?!”

He panics and freaks out.

Calms down as soon as you tell him that you’ll get through it with him. It’s just all the more reason to survive.

“But Gonta… no can put child in this hell!”

He has a fire in his eyes that you honestly wouldn’t expect from him. You have to try your hardest to convince him not to fight Monokuma, out of fear of him being punished.

“Gonta will try to survive…for Gonta and S/O’s kid.”

He carries you everywhere from now on, not wanting you to strain yourself. If you ask, he puts you down, but will hold you and keep you close by.

During Class Trials, he immediately shuts any suspicion down.

“S/O can’t be culprit! Was with Gonta!”

You tell him to be wary of Kokichi, as you think Kokichi doesn’t have good intentions with your boyfriend. He just gives you a smile.

“Kokichi wants to end killing game just as much as Gonta!”

When all of you go in the simulation, Gonta makes sure you’re okay and that the baby’s okay. You don’t exactly look pregnant in the simulation, but he still makes sure. After that, he goes off to watch Kokichi, and you’re left to explore on your own.

To make a long story short, when Miu was killed, you noticed Kokichi giving you the side-eye, but didn’t say anything to him. You could tell he knew something that you didn’t.

During the Class Trial, the “Killing Game Busters” were revealed. You didn’t want to believe it was Gonta. You really didn’t. He would never hurt someone like that without a purpose…

“S/O, take care of Gonta’s baby. Gonta will be watching over you and baby!”

You sobbed as you watched his execution. The father of your child was burned alive, and he was never coming back.

Instantly, you unleashed all your rage onto Kokichi and his crocodile tears. Several people had to pull you off of him, claiming that the stress wouldn’t be good for the baby.

Besides, you could hit Kokichi with all the punches in the world, but nothing would bring him back…

Laughs when you tell him about it.

Laughs the second time you tell him about it.

“It is even funnier the second time!”

Doesn’t laugh the third time.

“Wait a minute. You can’t be serious-?!”

Hope you valued your alone time while it lasted, because that is now a thing of the past!

MINE! MINE! MINE! MINE!

Lets everyone know that they’re not even allowed near you. He keeps you in his room at all times, you barely even get to sleep in your own bed anymore.

He only really lets you out during Class Trials, and even then he convinces Monokuma to put his podium next to yours.

Constantly talks about how happy he is that he’s going to be a father, to the point everybody knows. Even the Monokubs are a little bit annoyed. So much for keeping it a secret.

“Hmm, nope! It can’t be me, sorry! I was too busy spending time with my child and my girlfriend~”

His logic is that since you’re pregnant, maybe nobody would kill you because they would feel too bad, so he doesn’t really mind screaming it to the world.

The longer the game goes on, though, the more fucked up things he feels compelled to do, in his efforts to try and stop the killing game.

You practically scream at him when he pretends to be dead.

“Aw, don’t worry your pretty little head! I’m alright, aren’t I?”

Maki keeps sending her threats for him to you.

“If you want to raise the child with a stable 2-Parent family, I suggest you calm your boyfriend down.”

During the fifth trial, things are very tense. Either way, your boyfriend was either dead or going to die. You knew it was all a part of his scheme, but you still thought this was a step too far.

When Kaito was revealed in the Exisal, you bawled your eyes out.

Even as Shuichi explained Kokichi’s thought process, it made nothing better.

You didn’t even get to say goodbye…

And your child would never meet his father.

Wait, you’re what?

Oh no.

In a killing game?!

Oh no.

And he’s the father???

Oh NO.

You’re surprised that he doesn’t faint, by the way he’s acting.

“S/O, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to, really!”

You tell him that it’s okay, because you know he’ll make a great parent. You’ve made him a little more confident, but not by a lot.

“We should probably keep this a secret for now. You can never really be too careful in these circumstances.”

Everyone can tell something’s off with him, because he gets really bad Couvade syndrome.

He still tries to help you as much as he can. If you’re craving something he brings you it almost immediately.

If your stomach moves even a tiny bit, he assumes the baby is coming even though he knows better. You have to tell him that it’s only a kick and he needs to take it down a couple of notches.

“Heh…sorry.”

His anxiety is through the ROOF.

Still tries to work on it. He’s got to be strong for you.

Trains with Kaito to help him become stronger, and brings you along with him.

“Hey Shuichi, don’t you think S/O might want to train with us?”

“It’s okay Kaito, S/O gets really sleepy during this time.”

Tries his hardest during class trials. He can’t afford to take shit from anybody and risk getting you killed. Hits the killers with the hard facts and evidence.

Investigates with you by his side.

“Now the baby can see his father in action!”

At the 6th Trial, he reveals your pregnancy, even though Tsumugi already knew.

Nobody else did. How? Guess they weren’t paying attention to your ever-increasing stomach.

When everyone ducks under rocks, Shuichi shields you with his body for extra protection. After the two of you make it out alive, along with Maki and Himiko, the 4 of you go off to start a new life together.

“WHAAAATTTT?!”

Thinks you cheated on him.

He’s very hurt.

You spend almost an hour convincing him that he’s the only one you’ve ever been with. He still doesn’t really believe it, but there’s only one thing to do.

The two of you consult Miu to figure out what in the hell is going on.

“Miu! I never wanted to actually have sperm and be able to create life! Now our child is going to be born in such horrible conditions!”

“Well, be more fuckin’ clear next time, and wrap it up when you get your dick wet, why don’t you?!”

Looks on the bright side.

He was able to get you pregnant, something no other robot was able to do before! That’s a complete win!

You’re still stuck in this school, though, and this was no place to raise a child.

“Robots aren’t allowed to hurt humans, and I can’t risk you killing someone and losing the trial…”

He helps you the best that he can. He gives you any medicine that he can find, and he lets you use him as a heating pad.

Scans daily to see your state of health. Sometimes more than necessary…

“I just did this scan 5 minutes ago? Oh, I hadn’t noticed…”

Takes pictures of your stomach every day to monitor your growth.

Kokichi always makes fun of the two of you.

“Well, I guess that answers my question! Robots do have dicks! Hey S/O, was it all cold and metallic?”

“…that’s not funny.”

When it was revealed during the 6th Trial about Danganronpa, he was conflicted.

The voices in his head– the audience– told him all different things. He was tired, he just wanted to be free. He didn’t want your child to grow up in a world like this.

“S/O, if this continues, and the kid we created joins a future season, I’d never forgive myself. It’s time to end this. Please, when you see them, let them know their father loves them so.”

He sacrificed himself by blowing up the school. As he saw his friends and his significant other huddled beneath a rock, he grinned, knowing they were going to be okay.

Scoffs.

“Well, that’s just my luck that I would cause you to have to bring a new life into this horrible world.”

He’s honestly pretty upset over the whole thing for at least a couple days.

But then he realizes it; he can raise them to be better than he ever was or had a chance at being. He can teach them to do better.

This makes him happy, and he apologizes for being so stand-offish.

“Looks like… we’ve still got a ways to go.”

When the two of you lay down together, he always lays down in a way that his ear is directly pressed against you stomach.

He talks to the child a lot.

“Don’t worry, little one. We’ll get you and everyone else out of here and to safety. I love you so much.”

Truth be told, he’s a little scared that he’s a threat to the kid. After what happened in his past, what happened to his family, what happened to his lover…

You tell him to try to not think about it, and you know that he’s learned from the past.

The two of you only tell a couple people that you trust; namely, Shuichi and Kirumi. They’re both really happy for you!

Kirumi helps out a lot by getting you whatever you need for the day. She doesn’t get at all bothered by your morning sickness, and even offers to clean.

After the motive videos come out, Ryoma watches his and though he’s a little hurt, it doesn’t stop his determination to leave.

While she’s cleaning Ryoma’s room, Ryoma confides in her for advice.

“I feel like…I won’t be enough for our kid. Look at me now, I’m nothing more than an empty shell. I just… want to be enough for our family.”

SLAM!

Ryoma fell to the ground with a light thud, and that was the last anybody ever heard from him.

Crying out as you saw the piranhas tear away his flesh, you fainted on the spot.

You didn’t even have time to investigate, because the Class Trial had started.

You appreciated how seriously Kirumi was taking this trial. She kept making glances at you, but you assumed it was because she felt bad that your child would have to be without a father.

Until…

No, it couldn’t be. She’d gained your trust, only to betray you in the end? What kind of sick joke was this?!

As she was executed, you looked down at your stomach, rubbing it.

“Looks like we’ve still got a ways to go, kid…”

Wildly switching between happy, sad, and terrified.

On the one hand, he’s happy to be a father to your child. You were the love of his life, and he wanted to do his part and take care of the kid.

On the other hand, when you tell him the news, he paces back and forth, trying to find a way to get you to be as safe as possible. He already survived one killing game, how hard could it be to let the two of you be the last survivors again?

He asked Monokuma to see if you could have the easy way out.

“Monokuma, I know you probably want me to still participate, but my girlfriend, she’s pregnant now, so can you please just-”

“Puhuhuhu~! All applications made are final, buddy! It looks like we may just have another member in a short 9 months! Well, the more the merrier!”

Shit.

After that “lovely” conversation, Rantaro was more determined than ever to find a way out of the game.

He’d already lost his sisters, and he wouldn’t dream of losing you and the child too.

When the countdown motive for the first murder is introduced, he parts with you for just a few minutes, to record the videos that you and your other classmates would later find. He wanders in the library in order to do something, but he’s distracted when a shot put ball falls behind him. As he goes to pick it up, he’s struck in the back of the head.

Finding his body, you wanted to throw up, and not from morning sickness.

Nobody knew of your pregnancy yet, so nobody really knew how deep into despair you’d fallen.

Though, they still felt sorry for you, because it was obvious the two of you were together.

You didn’t feel right being angry at Kaede when she was revealed as the culprit, especially as she showed deep remorse.

“I didn’t mean it, S/O. I’m so sorry…”

Tears pricked your eyes as she was snatched back by the chains.

You forgive her.

Over the moon at first.

Yes, that’s a pun. Shut up, I know it’s bad.

This man is DANCING while he’s celebrating.

“WOO! I”M GONNA BE A FATHER!”

He’s loud enough that everyone knows within 10 minutes of you telling him.

Well.

When he has some alone time, he frowns to himself. He’s sick, What if he doesn’t live long enough to see their smiling face for the first time? Hear their first laugh?

These invasive thoughts clouded his mind, as he started to cough up blood.

“D-Damn it…”

Kaito decided not to tell you, not just because he’s an idiot, but he doesn’t want you to stress and possibly cause damage to the child.

He talks to your stomach everyday.

“What’s up, my little star!”

He’s extremely proud and isn’t afraid to show you off.

The more ill he gets, the more hope he has that you’ll be just fine. You have to be!

After he’s locked in the bathroom, he tries to find a way out. Any way out, he needed to make sure you were safe. Kokichi couldn’t keep him locked up forever!

When he and Kokichi make their deal, he does it in your interest.

“If Monokuma can’t solve the murder, I’ll finally get to walk out of here and start my family! Right?!”

But their plan failed. As you watched his execution, you screamed, pounding on the screen, begging Monokuma to let him go, please. You’d do anything! Soon, his coughing got worse, and he was soon on the ground, pink all around him. He’d died of his own accord.

You smiled happily at the bittersweet moment. He died of his own accord, no longer a part of Monokuma’s twisted game.

You knew he was above, watching you from the stars.

“Did you say you’re pregnant…? My, what an interesting turn of events!”

Did this man just say it was interesting?

You told him that this was serious, and that you needed to find a way out of here now.

“Keheehee... you don’t really think I’d let anything happen to you, do you? It’s clear Monokuma won’t let us go, even under these circumstances. Besides, I have my own kin developing inside your body, you need extra attention now!”

He will literally give you a tsunami of compliments everyday about how your body seems to be handling the pregnancy.

“S/O, your body is just so radiant today!”

Tells you stories about motherhood in other cultures.

Knows the best herbal remedies to calm symptoms such as headaches or nausea.

Nervous that you keep having to go to the bathroom, guides you there and back.

You really don’t know why he completely lost his shit by killing Angie and Tenko.

You convinced yourself that it was because of the oppressive student council, but why Tenko?

As he revealed his true self, you were horrified. He...was a serial killer?

The Korekiyo you came to love was a serial killer?

You were thrown into despair as you came to terms with his true colors. Nothing made sense anymore. Not only was your boyfriend and father of your first-born child dead, but he’d been batshit insane this entire time?

Maybe the next time you see red rope and hear a promise of “pleasure like you’ve never experienced”, you’ll politely decline.

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canyouhearthelight · 3 years

Text

The Miys, Ch. 141

Last week I posted a day early because vacation was doing vacation things to my sense of time.... This week I forgot to queue the chapter up because Monday was a work holiday, so I forgot today was Tuesday. *insert facepalm here please*

Thanks on this one go largely to @baelpenrose who rightfully pointed out that one part made very little sense to him and therefore was unlikely to make sense to a reader. The clarification smoothed things out quite a bit, I think. Just in case, whoever spots the area I’m talking about gets a cookie as soon as travel restrictions lift.

As always, thanks go also to @the-raven-fae, @charlylimph-blog, and @anotherusrname for completing the corners of my support system. And, a super-duper extra-special to @drinksteawithcake! I don’t know if I am allowed to tell everyone why, but you know why you get the extra-special, and I hope you are having fun!

BWAAAAAHP! BWAAAAAHP!

“Uhhh?” I squinted in complaint as flailing arms clambered over me. One pair snagged me around my waist to drag me from bed before depositing me shakily on my feet. “What are you - ?”

BWAAAAAHP! BWAAAAAHP!

Any trace of sleep was shoved out of my system, replaced by sizzling alertness when I realized I was hearing ship-wide alarms. Shoving myself into the first clothing I grabbed, not even bothering with shoes, I was hot on Conor and Maverick’s heels as we raced out of our quarters and into the corridor. We paused only long enough for both men to kiss me and for “I love yous” to be exchanged before they turned and headed toward the areas indicated on their datascreens, while I hauled ass toward the Archives, ducking and twisting to avoid anyone in my path.

“Forty minutes,” Tyche told me crisply as I basically fell through the door, panting. “The Ark could be invaded and the battle over by the time you make it.”

“I ran….huff….the whole….ugh….way….” I managed to gasp out. Part of me felt like puking, but I was pretty sure the muscles in my abdomen were too busy to figure out the logistics.

Clicking her tongue, she pulled me up from the floor. “Alistair, make a note to suggest to Xio that Sophia’s quarters be relocated once we have a better idea of when we are dropping into real space.”

I nodded numbly. “And probably… amp up… sensors… give… earlier… warning.”

“Nice outfit, by the way,” she laughed quietly as we finally reached the shelter point within the Archives.

Glancing down, I had to suppress a sigh. The first thing I grabbed to dress myself had apparently been a pair of Conor’s boxer shorts and a very filthy t-shirt that I assumed belonged to Maverick, since Conor’s was usually under coveralls. “At least you can’t say I took my time getting dressed.”

Her shaking head was greeted by faces in various states of wakefulness - this had been a drill, and woke nearly the entire Ark during their sleep interval on Delta shift. But we weren’t out of the woods, yet: the drill didn’t end until all of Xiomara and Evan’s scenarios played out, including the mock combat and various tests of concealment for the other shelters. As such, Tyche stood guard over the choke-point into this section, while Alistair had stayed behind at the entrance.

Early on, when the drills started, there had been fifty-fifty odds that the mock-invaders would make it this far, but over the past few weeks, that had narrowed to maybe twenty-percent. It was still too high a chance in my judgement, and Xiomara clearly agreed as she stepped up training schedules and randomized the timing of the drills.

Taking a swig of water from a stash of bottles, I queued up my datapad and stood next to Tyche, watching the ‘casualties’ from a point where no one could see over my shoulder to avoid panic, which I would have done in a real situation. “They didn’t find mess hall seven this time,” I murmured.

She glanced at my screen. “Acoustics are still too damned high. She must not be simulating for that this go around.”

One of the decoy locations lit up. “Looks like this time it’s heavy on thermal.” The location in question had been equipped with a cooking surface, triggered to activate when the klaxons that had woken me up went off. Which Xiomara knew, but did not tell the ‘pirates’ for authenticity.

“How did they get past the combatants this time?” She asked, both curious and slightly worried.

Rolling back the sensor data, I watched it carefully. “Looks like these got in during the initial breaches, multiple points. But the line has held since, that’s good.”

Doing another check toward Alistair’s direction, she didn’t seem to see anything concerning. “How many?”

“Four,” I confirmed. “Sam’s thermal camouflage is working beautifully, though.” I couldn’t help but grin, and Tyche snorted at the same time. ‘Thermal camouflage’ was a bit of overkill as a name, but it was working well in every round. Potential access points were equipped with fast-acting environmental simulators - originally designed for temporary habitats on inhospitable moons - modified to release atmosphere like a Terran equatorial rainforest within one minute in an enclosed space. It was a much more simple and elegant solution than any others we had found for giving combatants defending the Ark an advantage - instead of trying to create technology to make them look colder, make the entire area match human heat signatures. Boom, instantly blinded enemies.

A tense half-hour later, the ‘all clear’ sounded, queueing grumbling from those who had dozed back off as everyone stood to make their ways back to their quarters. I waited with Alistair and Tyche for everyone else to be accounted for on the way out, and the three of us headed back toward our quarters together. Alistair peeled off first, living closest to the Archives, and no sooner had my sister and I reached my door than the page sounded for the post-drill meeting. She waved me off as she answered on her databand, and I did the same as I pushed into my quarters and flopped on the couch. “Councillor Sophia Reid, present, audio only,” I answered. “And no jokes, Pranav… I look like I smell awful.”

“Alistair Worthington, present, audio and video. I can confirm that she does, and she does.”

Laughter filled the comms and the rest of the group leaders and Councillors joined the debrief. Finally, everyone was present and Xiomara called the meeting to order. First, the leaders of each shelter reported in, as those usually went the fastest. There were a couple malfunctions in the deployment of the shielding to disguise the entrances and hide heat and electrical signatures, but nothing Huynh’s team couldn’t fix. Tyche and Alistair made the recommendations around earlier detection and the need to move those sheltering in the Archives closer as we approached time to drop out of relativistic space.

Once that was out of the way, it was on to the combat and invasion teams. Overall consensus was that Sam’s trick with the portable environments was a rousing success and would be installed at each point determined to be most likely as a breach, with trigger conditions to be determined later. “I hate to say it,” Michael sighed, “but we also need Charly’s team to crank up the scovilles on the arrows and grenades.” His team had played the ‘invaders’ this go around, equipped with sensors and readouts to simulate the effect our defenses would have on the various species who most commonly were found on pirate vessels. Evan had worked intensely with Pranav and Derek to ensure that the strategies provided by the readouts were modelled after similar strategies based on which ever species each team member was assigned, to ensure we weren’t accidentally drilling against human tactics.

Michael hated it, but he was strict about his team complying nonetheless.

“Seriously?” I squawked, and I wasn’t the only one. “One of those things accidentally went off in my quarters…. Can confirm, they’re pretty potent.”

“They dissipated too fast against my team, and also the contact element left a lot to be desired. Charly, you may want to consider adding a sticking element.”

“Duly noted,” she chimed in with a yawn, her normal pep doused by being woken up and then the drop in adrenaline post-combat.

“What about the sonic weapons?” Xiomara asked, moving the meeting along.

“Still less effective than Nixe is on her own,” a familiar voice I couldn’t put a name to responded with a sheepish tone. “How hard would it be to train more people to shatter glass with their voice?”

“Incredibly,” Grey stressed. “It takes a very unique combination of training and the right vocal chords.”

“Then we may need to work on adding a projection component. The sonic devices can match the pitch, but not the actual tone and direction. They’re very effective given time and especially contact, but we need something more immediately disabling.”

Xiomara groaned. “Are we back to Mariah Carey on this one?” Objections exploded until she muted the comms. “It’s that or opera.” Votes started scrolling up the screen, and I could see Xio nod. “Opera it is. Let’s find a suitable piece and try using more analogue-style speakers.”

“I still say that death metal would work better,” Arthur suggested as soon as the comms were back on.

“Annnnd we already tested it, I will remind you. The volume works, but the pitches aren’t high enough to hit a broad enough population of species sensitive to sound.” After that nearly-obligatory objection, the meeting continued going through reports from each combat team until finally Xiomara announced the end results. “I have to admit, this was one of our best drills yet. Ten percent casualties of the combatants defending the breaches, only two percent among non-combatants, and the invaders were only able to traverse three decks before they were subdued.” She let the cheers go for a couple seconds before getting everyone’s attention again. “Yes, great job on the improvements, but let me remind everyone - those numbers still leave us below threshold for a healthy genetic population. Engineering teams, make the necessary adjustments with whatever resources are necessary. Shelters Three and Seven, you will start training for armed and unarmed combat with Shelter Fourteen and Combat Team Two daily. Sophia, your team will coordinate schedules. Any questions?”

There were no arguments, not even a groan or mutter as the meeting was dismissed. Before I could even add the new task to my agenda the next day, I received the notification that Alistair had beaten me to the punch.

Glancing at the time, I wanted to hit something. I had to be back up and at work in four hours, and the realization weighed me down with exhaustion. The guys had come in and gone to bed while I was in the debrief, and I could already hear synchronized snoring coming from the bedroom. Rather than risk waking them with my now-frozen feet, I pulled the quilt off the back of my couch and rolled myself into it. Only minutes later, a heavy weight oozed across my hip and started purring furiously.

“Yeah, buddy. I agree. We need a nap.”

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#the miys #found family #humans are weird #science fiction #aliens #apocalypse #humans are space orcs #humans are space fae #earth is space australia #post apocalypse #post post apocalypse #original science fiction #original sci fi #original writing

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sokkascroptop · 4 years

Text

traitor. (sokka x f!reader) pt 11

part 1 | part 10 | part 12

A/N: I’m over here like, “how to write Sokka and Y/N simping over each other, but like lightly simping?” Also, I guess we learn some more about Y/N family?

Y/N thought back to when she learned how to use a sword. She was young when her father told her she needed to choose something to master. If she couldn’t train to be a firebender, she was going to train to be something. She’d picked the sword because she’d seen him practice with her two older brothers in their courtyard, and spirits, she just wanted to make him proud for once. She worked nonstop and became the best she could be because there was no margin for error. Failure wouldn’t be tolerated.

“And this is supposed to train me how?!” Sokka asked. His arm dropped six inches. Y/N lifted it back up so it was even with his shoulder and straightened out his elbow more.

“Holding my sword out straight for hours will not only show me that you have the dedication to learn but it will also help you build up strength.”

“Hours,” he echoed.

“Look, if you don’t want to do this, that’s fine!” Y/N started to walk away.

Sokka grabbed her shoulder and spun her back around. “I’ll do it. I’m not happy about it. But I’ll do it.”

Sokka widened his stance and looked out over the water as he settled in. Y/N joined Toph in leaning up against the railing. “Is this really something that your teachers made you do?”

“The sword was much lighter but yes, Father said it was essential that I show my commitment.”

“Sounds like a nice guy.” Y/N didn’t miss the sarcasm in Toph’s tone. She also couldn’t refute it. He wasn’t a nice guy, and he was a worse father.

---

Half an hour and Sokka’s arm was shaking, Y/N could see it from across the deck.

“Tired yet?” she asked. Even though it was still morning, the sun was blazing. A drop of sweat dripped down his face and the tip of the sword dipped before he corrected it. “Nope,” he grunted. “Just peachy.”

“Sure. Let me know when you’re done?”

“What?!” the sword dipped again. “I thought you were the one telling me how long I was doing this.”

“I never said that.”

“But… that’s what you meant right?”

Y/N shrugged. And Sokka didn’t move.

“How long has he been at it?” Katara asked as she sat down next to Toph and Y/N. She handed them each a bowl of rice and smoked fish.

“Three hours,” Toph said around a bite of fish. Katara’s eyes widened in disbelief. “And whenever Y/N goes to check on him, his heart races like he’s afraid she’s going to make him do something else ridiculous.”

“Hey!” Y/N protested. “It’s not ridiculous. He’s training.” Even Y/N couldn’t keep a straight face while saying it. She hopped to her feet and approached Sokka.

“There it goes again!” Toph yelled.

Y/N ignored her. “You hungry?” she asked Sokka.

Sokka’s arm seemed to tremble a bit more. He forced a stoic look across his face. “Nope.”

“Are you sure?” Y/N asked. She picked up a piece of fish with her chopsticks and held it out. “If you’re so adamant about holding the sword, I can feed you lunch, if you want.”

An expression that Y/N didn’t recognize crossed his face and for a moment she thought he was actually going to say yes. But then he looked over her shoulder. “I’m good.” His voice was strained.

“Oh, for spirits sake, Sokka put the sword down and come eat!” Katara called from where she was sitting.

Sokka looked back to Y/N, his bright blue eyes drilled into her own. She held his gaze longer than necessary, because this was more fun than she had anticipated. And then Y/N realized what was happening. He was waiting for her to say something. Her stomach flip-flopped.

“Put down the sword,” She murmured.

She flinched when the blade clattered to the deck and her reverie broke. Sokka’s arm hung limply at his side and he collapsed on one knee. “Tui and La, that was the worst thing I’ve ever done!” He fell sideways on the deck and rolled onto his back. “My arm is numb. I can’t feel it. Is that normal?”

Y/N picked up her sword and examined the edge for nicks. “Sure.”

He leaned up and snatched the bowl of food from Y/N’s hands.

“Hey!”

Sokka balanced the bowl on his stomach and shoved the biggest piece of fish in his mouth. “I desermph it!”

“You didn’t have to hold it that long!” Y/N exclaimed. “I told you, you could stop anytime you wanted to!”

“I thought you were joking!” he shouted back.

Y/N turned back to the girls. “Is he always this dramatic?” She asked.

“All the time.”

“Always.”

“I am not dramatic!”

---

“No. Do that move again. Your shoulder is flying open too far. You’re leaving yourself vulnerable.” Y/N poked Sokka in the stomach to prove her point.

Sokka did, lunging forward with his sword but keeping his shoulders turned inward. He looked towards Y/N for any critique.

She leaned back on the rail with her arms crossed. “Much better.”

Sokka grinned. “Can we spar now?” He was always tired of just practicing new moves. He wanted action.

Y/N unsheathed her sword. “If we’re careful. Katara nearly killed me when I cut your arm last week.”

They’d been at sea for a few weeks now. Sokka and Y/N practiced every morning and every evening on the deck of the Fire Nation ship. There wasn’t much else for them to do but spar which meant that Sokka was learning a lot, and learning it fast. Only last week had she started letting them use real swords though; Sokka had taken a Jian sword similar to Y/N’s from the ship’s armory. In the weeks before, they had just used broken broom handles to make sure no one got hurt. After days of splintered hands and bruises all over from the “beatings” he said Y/N gave him, Sokka begged to use swords. With great reluctance she’d said yes, as long as he made sure he listened to her. It was an extra precaution for Y/N too, she was worried that if something happened to Sokka, they’d throw her overboard.

“Arm up, yes!” Sokka parried as Y/N thrusted her sword. She ducked under his sword and landed a punch to his side. “Gotta be faster though!”

She quickly backed away smiling as he caught his breath. “Was that necessary?” He asked with his hands on his knees.

“Absolutely. How else will you learn?”

Y/N waited a beat before she threw an overhand cut that Sokka blocked, reflexively. He swept at her in a long arc that she knocked away easily. They danced in a few lazy circles, blocking and striking before Sokka got bored. He moved to disarm Y/N, twisting the flat of his blade under her wrist. And lucky for him, she didn’t expect it and the pressure caused her to drop it. He let the point of his sword fall just beneath her chin.

Sokka’s eyes widened. “I won!”

Y/N pressed the flat of his blade between her two palms, moving it away from her face and kicking him in the wrist. The sword dropped from his hand as he sucked in a sharp breath. She swung the blade up and caught it by the hilt. She dragged her leg behind his and shoved him to the ground. He fell hard on his back and she pressed a knee to his chest.

“What did I say about being cocky?”

“It gets you killed,” Sokka grumbled.

“It looks like you lost!” Bato shouted from where he and Hakoda watched from across the deck. Hakoda laughed loudly and then said something unintelligible that sent them both into fits of laughter.

She moved off of Sokka’s chest and helped pull him to his feet. She held the hilt of his sword out to him and retrieved her own from the deck. “Again?”

“Will you please let me win one so my dad and Bato will stop making fun of me?”

Y/N looked over at the two men, who were just getting over their fit of giggles. Momo was perched on the chief’s shoulder and Hakoda reached up to pet his head.

She smiled at Sokka softly, he grinned back.

“No.”

Sokka’s face fell. “Oh come on!”

---

Y/N leaned her back up against the railing of the ship as she watched Sokka put his Fire Nation armor back on. She bit back a laugh as he slid his helmet on over a fresh bruise on his forehead. He caught her anyways.

“Yeah, thanks for that!” He kicked the bottom of her boot.

“Sokka, I told you I was sorry! If you’re in a high bind like we were you need to expect that the other person is going to hit you with the hilt to knock you down.”

“It hurt.”

Y/N nodded. “Yeah, I know it does. And I’ve had much bigger people do it to me so you should be happy.”

Sokka sat next to her and tapped her foot with his. “Thanks for teaching me.” He said that a lot. Y/N was pretty sure there wasn’t a day that went by when he didn’t say it.

His face was covered by the helmet. It made it easier to talk to him when he looked like a nameless, faceless Fire Nation soldier. “Oh you know. The price for my life,” she sighed.

“You know that’s not how it is anymore, right?”

Y/N blinked up at the sky and fiddled with the clasp to her Fire Nation cape around her neck. It was dark and the air was humid. “It’s going to rain.”

After a minute, Sokka looked away from her and looked up too.

Just then, there was a crash on the deck. Sokka and Y/N both jumped to their feet and went running towards the sound.

“Twinkle-Toes, that’s got to be you!” Toph exclaimed. They all created a semi-circle around the airbender, who stood hunched over with Momo on his back. The lemur was furiously licking the side of his face. Y/N was surprised to see the Avatar's head covered in dark brown hair.

“Aang, you’re awake!” Katara moved to embrace him in a hug.

“Are you sure?” he asked. “I feel like I’m dreaming.”

“You’re not dreaming! You’re finally awake.” She promised.

Sokka brushed past Y/N to hug him as well. “Aang, good to see you back with the living buddy.”

“Sokka?” Aang muttered. And then he fainted.

---

After making sure Aang woke up okay on the deck, Sokka nudged Y/N and walked her back to her room for the night.

“So, he’s awake.” Sokka said. Y/N didn’t meet his eyes; just looked back down the hallway to the staircase that would take you above deck. “I’m sure Katara will tell him everything. Nothing to worry about.” Then he did something unexpected. He placed a hand on her shoulder and squeezed. “Don’t worry about it,” He repeated.

Y/N shook her head, at a loss for words. Sokka had never initiated contact with her when they weren’t sparring. In fact, he actively avoided it.

“Training tomorrow, before breakfast?” he asked.

“Yeah.” And then he was gone. Back down the hallway to his room.

Y/N closed her door and leaned up against it. She was worried. And somehow Sokka had figured out exactly what she was anxious over. Being on the ship with Aang unconscious was one thing. They had nothing better to do other than stay and let him heal there. But now that he was awake, he, Toph, Katara and Sokka were going to complete their mission to save the world and there was no place for Y/N in that story. Her point of leaving was never to join the Avatar’s mission, that just happened to be a side to the same story.

And she was sure the others didn’t want her to join either. It didn’t matter how nice they were to her, or how friendly her and Sokka had gotten over the last few weeks; she was still Fire Nation. And she wasn’t one of them.

A knock at the door startled Y/N. “Come in.”

---

A/N: I think this might just be my first official cliffhanger!! We got some fightin’, some Sokka, we even got our Boy Aang back!! The next part will be a little short, but very important for Sokka and Y/N’s development.

Taglist: @myexgirlfriendisthemoon @reclusive-chicken-nugget@astroninaaa @aangsupremacy @beifongsss @crownofcryptids @welovediaaxx @littlefluu @lozzybowe @thebluelcdy @ohjustlookalive @sugarmoongey @fanficdepot @teenbiology @13-09-01 @riespage @davnwillcome @naanlianid @creation-magician @lunariasilver @vintagerose1014516 @bcifcng @rockinearthbending-marauders @francesciak @thia-aep @aphrcditeee @milk-n-cheese

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greensaplinggrace · 3 years

Note

14 for the grishaverse asks?

Anon: 14

---

(Grishaverse Ask Game!)

Do you have any specific headcanons about any characters?: oh boy DO I EVER. Especially for the SaB characters.

The Darkling is transgender, Alina uses she/they pronouns, Mal is a trans man, and they're all bisexual

Young Grisha in the Little Palace often ask what the Darkling's age is and he always answers with a different and outrageous number, saying anywhere from 6000 to 10. Everyone thinks he's just joking until they don't anymore

The Darkling makes little shadow creatures with his powers for the kids. The first time he tries it he makes a figure that's just a bit too scary and accidentally scares a kid. He panics when the kid starts crying.

Young Grisha in the Little Palace use their powers innocently all the time and learn to love that part of themselves, David making little toys for his friends and Zoya tossing other kids into leaf piles with her wind and Genya playing dress up. The Darkling and Alina create constellations together with their powers using darkness and little points of light.

A Mal that stays in the Little Palace instantly bonds with the Grisha children there because he knows what it's like to alone and feel isolated. He endears himself to Aleksander by constantly playing with the children, though it takes him some time to get used to being around them

A Mal that stays in the Little Palace would absolutely get involved in Grisha physical combat lessons

Fedyor and Ivan were very obvious about their relationship at first but thought that they were effectively keeping it hidden from everyone. Nina still makes fun of them to this day

Nina would always be running about and playing spy. Poking around in other people's things and investigating stuff

The Darkling has a lot of self loathing when it comes to Luda and how she died, and more specifically about how much he thinks she'd hate him now, knowing what he's become

Grisha in the Palace trust the Darkling enough to know his shadows aren't dangerous to them, but they really play it up to outsiders as a way to protect both the Darkling and themselves

The Darkling is a Science Dad (tm)

The Darkling works really hard to dismantle the dozens of pranks the younger Grisha set up around the Palace, but sometimes when they're targeted at someone particularly horrendous he'll look the other way

Mal and the Darkling would bond over war table talk and the Darkling would totally be floored by Mal's intelligence

The Darkling stops being scary to the Grisha basically as soon as he acts really soft towards a kid for the first time, but the Grisha in the Palace keep up appearances for the sake of his reputation cause they know how important it is to him

Alina learned to ride horses when she was very young, and it took a lot of painstaking effort and money but she soldiered through. Now she adores horseback riding and takes every chance she can get to do so

Baghra didn't ever really accept the Darkling as trans, and only started using the correct pronouns after years of stubborn refusal. The process of her using his new name was slow and excruciating, and she still doesn't acknowledge that her child is actually a man if asked directly

Mal finding out he was trans was an abrupt process, but he had a very hard time socially adjusting as well. Alina helped him a lot in that time, even working hard to convince Ana Kuya to get different clothes for him. Alina worked through a lot of extra chores and schemes to make it as easy as possible for him

Alina likes to make little suns in the rooms she's in to make them brighter, and it's now a comfort thing for her as well as Mal. Whenever he enters a room he feels strange without her light there to help him see

The Darkling's relationship with Luda was queerplatonic. She was asexual and aromantic, and they were partners. The Darkling loved her but never got the chance to tell her because of his own insecurities. He regrets it to this day

Alina and Mal used to lead baby ducks back to their mommy ducks whenever they got lost in the nearby pond

The Darkling used to be very fond of animals when he was younger, but that softness was brutally drained from him by Baghra and the rest of the world quite quickly

Mal has Opinions on the treatment of pets and animals and will absolutely give you a three hour long lecture on how to take care of your dog

Alina beats Aleksander in a horse race and he's still a sore loser about it to this day

Mal fell off of a horse once when he was younger and still has some lingering trauma around riding

Alina, Mal, and the Darkling all suffer from heavy PTSD and help each other through it often. Alina and Mal reconnect when they meet again through talking about the things they've been through, helping each other through nightmares and kissing each other's scars. Guiding each other through panic attacks and other trauma responses

Alina was especially affected by the Druskelle attack on her carriage and her near death experience, along with the slaughter of her cartographer friends in the fold and Mal's near death. She still feels guilty about what happened to her unit and has to work through it quite often. Mal and the Darkling both help

#grishaverse #shadow and bone #sab #aleksander morozova #malyen oretsev #alina starkov #darklina #malina #malarklina #headcanons #myramblings #asks and answers #ask games #mymetas #rhea-imagined

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candychronicles · 4 years

Text

stuck with me // h. nejire

A/N: My take on the bnharem summer collab! Decided to write for sweet baby Nejire, as she doesn’t get enough love!

CHARACTER PAIRING: Nejire Hado x Reader

WORD COUNT: 1,724

WARNINGS: sweet baby fluff

SYNOPSIS: A girls day out leads to so much more!

Want to read more summertime fun? Click here !

the soft sunlight dappled over the crystal clear water, creating a dance of sparkles. a soft swooshing sound was all that could be heard as you helped paddle the little wooden boat over the serene lake. for once, Nejire Hado was quiet, serene almost, as she sat across from you, hands folded in her lap and head turned to the side to watch the scenery slowly float by.

the day hadn’t started off calm. in fact, it started off in typical Nejire fashion: happy chaos.

“wake up sleepy head! we’ve got a whole day of fun, so i can’t have you being lazy on me!”

you harshly blinked, snapped back into reality by the loud sounds of your best friend, before smiling at her, continuing to walk, but this time, with an extra pep in your step.

your first stop was shopping, of course. no real girls day could occur without trying on various clothes, binging on greasy mall food and giggling at all the funny gadgets you found throughout the day.

“come on, lets go in here! we’ll need some new bathing suits for the beach today!”

you had insisted that what you were wearing was fine, but she would not listen, dragging you along despite your protests. it was only when you were shoved into a changing room with a simple black two piece that your heart started racing.

you emerged from the cubicle a few minutes later, head hung low as you looked into the mirror, pinching and prodding at your body, trying to make the bathing suit look good on you. however, when you had almost given up and resigned to going back, Nejire emerged, smiling from ear to ear.

“what are you frowning about?” she chided, strutting over to you with purpose, “you look amazing. i’m jealous! here, let’s take some selfies. i need to show off my hot best friend!”

though the words, you thought, were just meant to cheer you up as a friend, a rosy blush found its way to your cheeks nonetheless as you allowed yourself to imagine Nejire truly finding you attractive. after that little incident, you decided to buy the bikini, spurred on by the simple words she spoke.

the next stop of the day, after dropping off your bags at your house, was to find somewhere to actually eat, instead of continuing to binge on greasy fast foods. you had decided on your favorite cafe, a place where you two often went to unwind after a stressful day at school, or work as you got older.

when you had arrived, Nejire shooed you to find a table, insisting on paying for the food. she knew your order by heart, and though it shouldn’t of made you feel all warm and fuzzy inside, you couldn’t help it. she knew every little thing about you, big or small, and you felt so utterly bare around her, yet safer than anywhere else.

your friendship started off odd. you weren’t a particularly popular student, tending to hangout with the same small group of friends, but you weren’t necessarily shy either. after an impressive fight at your first year sports festival, Nejire had approached you with awe, insisting that you become friends so that you could learn from each other. at the time, you weren’t sure of her upbeat, forward personality, so you said yes automatically, just trying to process what had happened.

for awhile, you had assumed that the little interaction would lead to nowhere, but Nejire proved you wrong time and time again, bothering you for help with homework, gossiping about others in your class, making you help her with beauty pageants and campaigns, all which led to late nights at your little cafe together.

you were once again brought back to the present when Nejire delicately placed the food and drink down on the table, balancing it all with grace and years of practice. you two dug in, chatting about everything and nothing, falling into your old routine of just being together. there was never a time where you two didn’t feel comfortable with one another, and only continued to get closer as the days went on.

after a long chat in the cafe, Nejire insisted on a walk in the park, wanting to stretch and enjoy the sunshine after all the food you two had consumed. the walk on the way there was filled with the same mindless chatter as before, her mouth moving before her brain could process the words half the time, but you constantly found that endearing.

a loud scream came from your right, and without thinking, you jumped, grabbing her hand and squeezing tightly, before letting out a laugh when you realized it was just an angry kid.

“don’t worry, i’ll protect you (y/n)!”

she let out a little giggle at your irate expression, before tugging you along, never letting go of your hand, even when you were all alone on the park path. your heart threatened to leap out of your chest, but you maintained your cool, laughing and babbling nonsense back and forth, making jokes, pointing out pretty cloud formations and cooing at the cute ducks at the edge of the pond.

when Nejire had spotted little rowboats for rent, you knew it was all over. she would not take no for an answer, and you’d be going for a long and chatty boat ride whether you wanted to or not.

things didn’t turn out quite as planned though. the boat ride started off with you two arguing over who was going to push, you winning the argument as you picked up the paddles and gently propelled yourselves off the shore of the lake. you had attempted a few jokes, but Nejire was unusually silent, watching the small ripples created from the boat splitting the water.

you were about to open your mouth to ask her what was wrong, setting down the paddles, when she spoke up, voice quiet and gentle.

“we’re best friends yeah? and nothing’s going to happen to change that, right? even though we’re busy being heroes, even though things are dangerous sometimes, you’re not going to leave my side?”

“no matter what happens Nejire, i will always be by your side,” you reassured automatically, reaching forward to grab her hands in your own.

“even if i do this?”

before you had a chance to ask her what she was talking about, she leaned forward, pressing her lips against yours in a gentle embrace, squeezing your hands. your body froze for only a second before you reacted, moving against her in tandem, taking your hands out of hers and placing one on the side of her face, the other cupping the back of her head to deepen the kiss.

you pulled away, breathless. your eyes searched her own, wide and unsure, but full of so much love.

“oh my gosh, i’m so sorry! that was so random, huh? i was just admiring the view and then realized nothing here was as pretty as you and just wanted to kiss you, so i did!” she admitted, wringing her hands together, the only telltale sign that she was worried.

you took only a few moments before replying, “i didn’t mind. i-i liked it actually, a lot.”

that peachy blush you had been trying so hard to avoid all day came back in full force, creeping up your neck and into your cheeks, setting your face aflame.

“really? oh that’s so great. i’ve liked you for so long but i didn’t know if you felt the same. i just wanted to make sure that you’d still be friends with me even if you didn’t feel the same way, but now that i know that you like me back, i’d like to be more than that, if you want? like, be my girlfriend?” she babbled out, talking animatedly with her hands.

you were only able to nod in response, a smile slowly creeping on your face as she continued to talk, so enamored by every movement and every syllable that left her mouth.

“i’d love to be your girlfriend Hado. more than anything,” you admitted, smile threatening to split your face with how wide it was.

she responded by leaning forward to kiss you again, but just as your lips were about to connect, the boat rocked dangerously from her surging forward, and as she grabbed you to stabilize herself, she fell into the water, tipping the boat and pulling you down with her.

when you both resurfaced, thoroughly soaked, your laughter pealed out of your mouth before you had a chance to even process what had just happened. she joined you swimming over to hug you from the side, pressing a wet kiss to your cheek.

after a few minutes, you two managed to flip the boat and climb back in, using your one single paddle that didn’t disappear to float back to the shore, apologizing and bowing deeply to the annoyed gentleman who rented the boat to you.

with smiles on your face and giggles under your breath, you two collected your belongings, stripped out of your wet clothes into your bikinis and made your way to the beach, setting up a large blanket and laid down, bodies side by side.

as the creamy yellow yolk slowly slid down the sky, streaked with lilacs and blushy hues, you watched Nejire, admiring the way her face glowed in the dewy sinking light. she turned to you, eyes sparkling with love and something you couldn’t quite place, but before you had a chance to decipher what it was, her lips were on yours, successfully getting you to close your eyes and relax into her touch.

she pulled away with a satisfying pop, her blue hair silky in your hand as you absentmindedly ran your fingers through it.

“you’re stuck with me forever, yeah?” she asked, and you had finally realized what her eyes were trying to tell you earlier.

“yeah, and you’re stuck with me. hope you don’t get annoyed,” you teased, booping her nose with the tip of your finger.

she returned your gesture with a giggle, before laying back down.

as you continued to watch the sun sink into the night, you realized that this sight would never compare to her, your own personal sunset.

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#nejire hado #nejire hado x reader #nejire hado imagine #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #bnha #mha #bnharem collab

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taofarren · 3 years

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Tina The Cortina

It was December in Cape Town and the South African president decided to surprise us with the gift of additional lockdown restrictions. Alcohol was banned, and spending time on the beach or sea in any capacity was suddenly highly illegal.

With our surf plans turned on their head, my girlfriend, Renske, and I decided to head in the opposite direction of the forbidden ocean, and celebrate New Years Eve in the Cape wine lands. It had been a debate in my mind between taking my mom’s plastic, yet reliable car, and returning before she got home from holiday the next week, or taking Tina, my 1969 canary yellow Ford Cortina, and having the freedom of cruising home when we wanted to. We chose risk, pleasure and freedom!

Renske had always accepted my car without too many questions, but during this particular trip she teased me each time we drove up the smallest hill. “Babe, are you sure we can make it up this one?”.

Of course I defended Tina the Cortina loyally. For a 52 year old lady, she had taken me on many successful adventures, and could surely handle a slow cruise to the wine lands. I was almost offended that Renske was teasing her. It didn’t cross my mind that it came from a place of real concern.

Half way through the journey I realised this was my longest trip Tina and I had taken in the three glorious years we had spent together.

My previous car had packed out after surviving me through the madness of my late teens. There were only terrible replacement options available within my very limited budget at the time. A ridiculously bright yellow car constantly popped up within the Gumtree search results, and I browsed the pictures as a joke. Yellow was my least favourite colour, and I wouldn’t dream of having a car that obnoxiously bright. Curiosity, and lack of a better option lead me to a test drive with the owner in Grassy Park. Despite my terrible driving and constant stalling of the old clutch, I instantly fell in love.

Just the feeling of sitting in the car felt so right. There is instantly a connection when driving a machine that old. The low seat, the thin steering wheel, having to throw my entire body weight into each turn of the power steering-less wheel. This was a real car. I couldn’t explain it, but I knew I had to have her.

We agreed on a straight swap. His keys for mine at the traffic department. As happy as I was, I was too scared to tell my parents. In our initial chats about potential new cars, they shot down any idea of something classic and dangerous. I knew she was exactly the match that they were dreading, and I hid her from them until it had truly sunk in, and there was no turning back for me. They had to meet and accept her whether they liked her or not.

Even though she caused my mothers head to shake in disappointment, everywhere else she went, people would whip their heads around and smile. Whether a passenger or an observer, it instantly made you happier.

From the beginning, this car was surrounded by an invisible force-field of love. This came in handy, as rather stupidly, I think I only wore the stiff seatbelt a handful of times.

1969 must have been a time of minimal accidents, as this particular model had no headrests, and there was no such thing as an emergency stop. Stopping would require you to jump on the brake about 30 metres in advance. Surprisingly (most probably due to the colour), I never had a single accident other than driving very slowly into a few walls.

Contrary to popular belief, owning a classic car is not about self-image, and in this case, most definitely not a “chick magnet”. To most women it was just an old yellow car. Once they had their photo for Instagram, the reality of the journey would set in, and it would be a true test of their level of “maintenance”.

It was in fact more of an old man magnet. Or rather every man. From the day I got her, old men asked me complicated questions about her regularly. I learnt about her anatomy by rushing home to Google what on earth they had asked me.

Almost every day I had offers to buy her. Even though these were mostly from car guards, petrol attendants, and a few times from a persistent garbage truck driver, I would obligingly take down their numbers, knowing I would never sell her. I knew that Tina enjoyed the attention and got the ego boost she deserved.

I wasn’t the only one to feel an emotional pull. It seemed to be the car that many people’s parents had, and seeing it triggered fond memories of their youth.

I was once approached timidly approached by an elderly lady who I mistook for a Jehovah’s witness:

“Excuse me!”.

“Good morning?” I enquired, squinting up at her, while flashing my most realistic, fake smile. She stooped in closer - Her wide eyes magnified by thick glasses, grey hair exploding out from underneath a Christian hat.

“Did you know that my mother had this car when I was younger?”

She blinked at me expectantly.

I wasn’t sure how I was supposed to have known that, but I decided to humour her.

“Uh…. Good memories?”

She leaned in closer with a crooked grin;

“Yes… especially on the back seat!”

She giggled and walked off with a vacant smile

A few days later, the memory of that lady’s grin still fresh in my mind, a beggar at a traffic light told me that his father had the car when he was younger. Cheerfully, I responded along the same lines, saying that he must have been a great man, to which he responded:

“No, he was a horrible man”, and walked away sadly.

Despite constantly threatening to overheat in traffic, she dominated the city roads. To get across a busy intersection, I would slowly drive into the middle of the road, and people would smile and let me in, just to stare at her beautiful square bum with glassy eyes.

She had a knack with roadblocks too. On a particular incident, with the car filled with mates drinking beers after sundowners on the beach, I was pulled over with a lit joint in hand. I panicked and stalled diagonally across the road.

“Fuck fuck fuck”

I tried to casually stamp the joint out with sandy feet as the policeman walked over with a serious look on his face. Smoke hung in the sweaty interior and the beer bottles on the floor clinked to a halt as he leant down to the window.

“Excuse me sir… what year model is this?”

“Uhm,1969” I replied nervously

“Yoh, look after her hey!” He smiled as he waved us through.

One of the main reasons I had rationalised the choice of a classic car, was that I would learn about how cars actually worked, feeling so detached from my previous modern car. Over the years I learnt intimately what was possible to break in a car, as everything slowly fell apart.

Electrical faults, numerous flat tyres, the radiator exploding in the middle of a petrol station, ball joints seizing, the floor rusting through to the road, using torches as flashlights to get home at night. I got really good at putting my ego aside and asking people for help.

For summer there was definitely no air con. The beautiful black pleather seats became stove plates against your skin, and the only fan was created by the draught rushing through the holes in the bodywork.

This cooling system, so useful in summer, became a freezer in winter. Long johns, extra hoodies, a beanie and gloves were always packed in the trunk. To this day, the usually comforting sound of rain outside the window shocks me awake. I would lie in bed as it poured down, dreading the inevitable puddles filling up the car floor through these holes and the aged window seals.

Strangely enough, the lack of headrests and questionable seatbelts made me feel more alive. The constant struggle to keep the loose steering wheel in a straight line, while listening to every sound in case of a problem, forced me into complete presence.

I saw so much more while travelling slowly. It felt like a leisurely stroll while on holiday, compared to a frantic run. Even if I was late it was literally impossible to drive faster. I learnt that at this point, it wouldn’t help to stress. Pushing the car further than its current 90 km/h top speed would most probably result in something breaking or flying off. I was forced to relax and enjoy myself in every situation.

Every ride, no matter how short, felt like an adventure, a real road trip. Each time I arrived at my destination, I was overcome with gratitude for having accomplished a magnificent feat.

On the streets I was instantly respected. I would pull up to traffic lights next to the latest luxury cars in elite places like Bantry Bay, and have the driver wind down his window to tell me how much he loved my car. When I’d ask them to swap, they would chuckle and zoom off while I tried not to stall.

We also received major street “cred” within the more alternative communities. This came in most useful when working on a documentary with the Ocean View Spinners, a community who passionately (and illegally) spun their cars until their tyres burst. I eventually realised it was safe to park inside the actual spinning parking lot, and upon seeing Tina for the first time, their perception of me shifted. Even though I refused their offers to spin her, I became one of them.

I was invited to an event in a township in Paarl to shoot one of their sessions. When we met at sunrise, their car was too full to take me, as it was a big family affair. The young pit crew boys fought over who would join me in my car for the journey, and eventually all piled in. Their excitement and pride of just being a passenger in Tina filled me with an ovewhelming sense of gratitude as we cruised past the grannies of Fish Hoek main road. A white boy driving while they hung out the window, hooting and hollering to their rap music blaring from a portable speaker.

At the Lavender Hill traffic lights, a notorious crime hotspot, the fun spluttered out along with the engine. Dead. In the worst place possible. Literally a bright yellow sitting duck with doors that couldn’t lock, and a boot full of camera gear. Even though they were the pit crew for the spin car, they were youngsters, and didn’t have any tools or the right knowledge. Internal panic kicked in as I ran through unrealistic solutions in my head. My internal spinning was interrupted by someone pulling in behind us. Sweating, I reached for the locking mechanism that didn’t exist on this model. Hijacking clearly wasn’t a problem in 1969 either It was a member of the Ocean View spinners convoy and most importantly, a mechanic.

They all crowded into the bonnet and fiddled until she begrudgingly returned to life. A few hundred metres of relief, before another cut out. Another stressed session of heads crammed together and hundreds of theories thrown around before we were back on our way.

During the event in Paarl, I was so overwhelmed by the deafening sound and smell of the cars being whipped around the “pitch”, that I completely forgot about my own car troubles. As the sun began to dip, it was advised that we leave the township and start the long drive home. Tina was towed out in amongst the traffic jam of exhausted spin cars and we started the painful process of resuscitation. The Spinners were just as tired as the cars, but they kept their patience with the old lady. An eventual tow-start and I was instructed to not let her cut out, whatever I do. No stops allowed on the hour long journey home.

Night shortly fell, and as we rattled along the road, one of the headlight fuses bumped out of place. The two headlights in their full glory hardly lit Tina’s path, now we were reduced to a single headlight. I couldn’t risk stopping to re-adjust it as I was sure she would cut out wherever she rested. I tuned out the passengers as they animately debated the events of the day, and zoned into the sound of her unhappy engine. We had lost the rest of the convoy on the highway, and this time I didn’t even want to contemplate what would happen if we broke down in the middle of nowhere in the dark. I stressed us the whole way back to Ocean View, and as soon as we turned into the road and Tina saw our destination, she cut out.

This time she was done for the day, and nothing would bring her back to life. After everything she had been through that day, she had to spend the night in Ocean View. I got a lift home from the spinning crew, and arriving without a car, and a black face full of tyre particles, I wasn’t quite sure how to explain the day to my family. “Good, thanks” had to do.

After a few weeks of rehabilitation, Tina was returned by a mechanic in Ocean View but still wouldn’t run properly. For more than a month she sat in the winter rain, while I desperately tried to figure out what parts she needed, and from where I could source them. Because she was so old, it was difficult to find someone that understood her.

She sat there limp and lifeless. My only form of freedom in those lockdown months, dead without much hope.

I eventually found the part that would get her moving and to Uncle Wasief, the world’s most reliable mechanic. He delivered the news that it had finally come to the crucial moment we had both been expecting: Very soon, I had to either let her go, or give her a complete makeover.

He fixed her up as best as he could until then, and we were temporarily back in action.

That day, I made a promise to her to give her the love she needed. I wouldn’t just take from her, but would listen to her requests.

I had all the windows and seats fixed, all the little odds and ends that I had previously dismissed as “character” and saved the quoted amount for a full restoration. She would be booked in at the end of January.

Over the howl of the wind though the holes, the disappointing sound of the portable speaker’s battery dying, brought me back to Renske, and our current journey to the wine lands As we arrived in Franschhoek, I think we both let out a secret sigh of relief, happy that we had made the right choice after all.

After a peaceful week of unnaturally green grass and far too much bootlegged wine, it was time to return to the city, reality, and the new year. As usual we were running late. This time for the last available Covid test appointment before Renske flew to Kenya for a job. If Tina travelled at full speed with no stops, we could just make it to the appointment on time.

The impressively spacious boot, as well as every other surface of the back seat, was crammed to full capacity We had both of our lives packed into the car: Camera gear, laptops, and weeks worth of clothing.

Driving down the first hill and taking in the beauty of the passing vineyards one last time, Renske abruptly turned to me: “Hey man, I think your car is smoking”.

This wasn’t completely unusual, and I attempted to sniff a few times with my hay fever impaired nose. A few metres later the engine cut out completely. She’d done many strange things, but this was certainly out of character for the old gal. We sat in silence, and heard the usually soothing sound of crackling flames, confusingly out of place on a sweaty 30 degree day.

The smell of smoke quickly formed a grey cloud as I ran around to the bonnet, lifting it to reveal a healthy fire. Right in the middle of my engine bay.

“Uhhhmmm…”

Renske hopped out as my brain struggled to compute the next step.

The only knowledge I have of burning cars is from action movies, where they quickly explode in a ball of fire. The passengers are generally running away, or flying through the air in slow motion. Sometimes both. Not interested in the flying option, we started to grab all our bags, and run them up the hill.

During each frantic trip, we tried to figure out which bags were the most important, as we took them higher and higher. If we can only grab a few bags before it explodes, what do we take? My beach umbrella rolled down the hill and my toothbrush flew through the air as unzipped bags vomited our lives out.

“Tao, your laundry!”

Your mind gets a bit muddled under that life or death pressure, and you start to ask yourself important questions about attachment. I was aware that Renske kept running back for random things that seemed unnecessary, yet I couldn’t help worrying about Sunny, the dashboard Hula girl.

After the toothbrush was successfully rescued, Renske remembered that her laptop was right in the front near the flames. Without a second thought, I sprinted to the car and grabbed it. As a video editor, my fear of losing saved work will always be far, far greater than potential death of any form.

We eventually sweated our hundreds of bags to the top of the hill and we stood to truly take it all in. It really was a beautiful sight that I will never forget. There was not a breath of wind on the perfect summer day. Plumes of smoke billowed out of the bright yellow car, framed by lines of vineyards and a perfectly still lake. Not a single part of me could feel sad while taking in such a surreal scene. The sight of this paradoxical beauty was enhanced by the anticipation of it exploding, and lighting up the nearby crops. Realising that this was not the ideal way to thank the farm owner for the lovely stay, I quickly called her up.

“Hi Ginny, quite a strange one, but my car is on fire. Ya… my car…. We were driving and it lit up…… Ya….. I was wondering if there was any chance you could please call the fire department?”

A few moments later, Francois the farm manager roared past. He barely parked before sprinting towards the burning car, wielding a fire extinguisher in each hand. In the shock, I had forgotten that I was a photographer, and I quickly grabbed my camera, and ran to join him. I was now filled with a different sense of urgency: to capture the tragedy.

A few photos, yet still no explosion as Francois and the fire extinguishers quickly snuffed out the flames. The dodgy wiring in the bonnet had reacted to some leaked oil, and everything in the engine bay was toast. The interior, which was the only part of her that hadn’t fallen apart in our love affair, was completely untouched. During her last dashboard hula dance, Sunny’s dress had been partly undone, yet not entirely removed by the flames. Her dignity was proudly intact as she obliviously continued to play her ukulele in amongst the smoke.

Once the curious farm workers cleared off, and the insurance company was notified, I found myself sitting alone with Tina’s burnt carcass in the shade of the vineyard.

Strangely enough, the only thing that came to my muddled mind was regret that we didn’t ever have sex in her extremely comfortable back seat.

Nothing could have prepared me for the many life lessons learnt by owning a classic car as my daily runner.

It’s amazing how adaptable we are as humans, and what we can overcome for love. Broken window? No problem, open the other one. It’s just how it was.

Their age allows you to understand and accept their imperfections, and this understanding leads to love and compassion.

As we all struggle to come to terms with our own constantly changing and ageing bodies, would it be possible to treat ourselves with the same level of compassion?

I was snapped out of my reverie by the tattooed tow truck drivers from Bellville arriving. A quick elbow bump and signature, and they winched her onto a flatbed truck.

I watched as she was towed away on her last ever journey; a burnt chunk of bright yellow metal to everyone she passed.

If only they knew.

Dear old Tina the Cortina . My friend, saviour, teacher and true love.

#vintagecar classiccardailyrunner storytelling creativewriting journal

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soyouareandrewdobson · 4 years

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Alex ze Pirate “Mini Review” 1: About Male Abuse

Alex ze Pirate is in my opinion the WORST “comic” series Dobson has ever written up until this point (date for archives: June 2020). Sure, I agree with people that his “hot take” comics on Star Wars Fans, political issues and virtue signaling for the sake of making brownie points are worse overall cause they are uneducated propaganda that give insight in how much of a loathsome human being driven by spite he genuinely is, but Alex “offends” me as someone who enjoys fiction. It may not be the worst thing ever written, but it just does so many things wrong in terms of storywriting, storytelling, presentation and creating fictional characters, I can’t help but wonder what went wrong that Dobson even remotely thought this thing would be a “successful” comic series to establish him as a creator. Cause I can tell you, having read the likes of Don Rosa’s work on Disney, Hilda, Cleopatra in Space, Spirou, Asterix, One Piece (of which I will talk a lot in my next few posts) and many more, I can confirm by comparison that Dobson’s pirates as a published comic would have only one use on the public shelves: alternative for toilet paper during the COVID-19 epidemic

Believe me, I would love to write an in depth analysis of everything wrong with Alex ze Pirate, from the lazy artwork up to even the publication history of this trainwrack. But doing so would take a lot of time and there is one individual part of this I think deserve at least extra attention. Something that in my opinion embodies quite well a lot of things I consider wrong with this comic. So before I am going over Alex in its entirety (and believe me, the day will come) let me just talk within the next few posts about one certain aspect and story of the comic, that genuinely got me to loath this comic to the core: Sam the Cabin Boy and “his” own individual story Dobson drew in three parts around 2010.

For starters, lets talk who Sam is: Sam is one of the main characters in the comic and actually the first person who joined Alex and Peggy in the initial pages of Legends, the “original” form of Alex ze Pirate.

See, back in 2004, Dobson released Alex ze Pirate in form of a single comic volume called “Legends” which features Alex trying to recruit a crew. The thing is around 78 pages thick and based on what I saw pretty terribly paced. For comparison: When Luffy in One Piece got his crew together, he spend multiple volumes and at least three minor story arcs to get Zoro, Nami, Sanji and Usopp to join him. All while also giving us good insight into the kind of people his new crewmates were (especially Sanji’s and Nami’s backstory got to me), defeating the likes of Buggy and Captain Black, meeting Dracula Mihawk and defeating one of the biggest bastards Eichiro Oda ever created in form of Arlong. What is the story how Sam joins the crew? An orphanage organizes an auction and sells kids off. Which I assume was even illegal in pirate times, so kudos for already showing us how despicable the world of Alex ze Pirate is to begin with and how much it deserves to be nuked in some sort of alien invasion.

Sam also doesn’t really get anything to do when he is introduced, just helping Alex escape on a small boat. Which is weird because he does not know her at all, she is just some stranger who bought him off and has no means to keep him in check, so why even bother following her and not let the mob get rid of Alex?

Anyway, I wish I could tell more about Sam’s involvement in Legends, but I don’t have really more than some scans of it in the beginning and near the end. So I don’t know his involvement in the rest of the volume. I also can’t say how he plays out in volume two, because that does not exist at all. Cause for reasons I will never understand, Dobson just abandoned the idea of telling a “coherent” and ongoing story with Alex ze Pirate and instead went to his colored one page comics/strips with it, turning it into what some people called “Garfield with Pirates” (which I consider a genuine insult towards any newspaper comic out there, even something as Boondocks). And the first thing we see of Sam in “classic” Alex ze Pirate?

The perverted dwarf of the crew showing of his shota underwear so that Alex and Sam stop bickering who is the cutest, leaving him embarrassed and humiliated.

Which kinda sums up his role in the comic to a t. Cause this is what Sam is: He is the buttmonkey of the crew. And honestly, I would not have a total problem with Sam being a buttmonkey, if a) he wasn’t it all the time, b) he would actually do something to deserve any form of humiliation and c) if the other characters in this comic itself would not be some of the biggest assholes I have ever seen, who get away with abusing the poor lad.

See, here is the problem: In a crew featuring a choleric homophobic soulless ginger

A black rat person who wants to fuck the ginger even without her consent

A furry abomination that has the same brain wavelengths as Chris Chan

And a perverted dwarf who tries to impersonate Happosai from Ranma 1/2

Sam is the only decent person in the entire crew. He works hard, he even questions the morality of his friends at times, he is honest, he is not perverted, almost good to the point of childish innocence and he has a very humble “goal” which is he wants to own his own piece of gold. Not even a big pile of treasure, just one single coin would be enough for him.

So he is likeable and relatable. In fact, if anything goes by, he may have been one of the most popular ones in the comic. And yet he is the one who gets constantly abused by “fate” and his friends, because as Dobson would say it, he is supposed to be the buttmonkey. There is just one problem: People do not necessarily like buttmonkeys.

I can primarily speak only for myself here, but I hope what I have to say resonates with others too. See, I get it: A character who is the butt of a joke can be fun. Like Daffy in Duck Amuck. But there is a fine line where a character being humiliated for the sake of a joke is fun (and perhaps even deserved because of his own shortcomings or deeds/actions that make the humiliation sort of kharmic, like lets say Johnny Bravo) and a character being humiliated to the point it feels disproportional, unfunny and mean spirited if not outright sadistic, can be crossed. Take Meg Griffin from Family Guy for example whose only “purpose” for existing within the last 12+ years is to get shat on by her family and the writers. People have no idea for a plot with her, so what do they do? Have her father physically and emotionally abuse her, fart in her face for what is supposed to count as a joke and then add additional insult to it by acknowledging that they are only doing this, because they have no other idea for her and think abuse is fun. Let me just tell you from experience, it is not.

And that is essentially what Sam is: He is the Meg Griffin of Alex ze Pirate, used by his creator as the butt of very unfunny jokes, even if he does not deserve any of the things said or done to him. Want to see some examples?

How about the description Dobson gives Sam within the introduction of one of his volumes, showing how little Dobson as the creator even cares for him.

Why is he called an unworthy “slob” if he is the only one who actually works? Shouldn’t a slob be someone like Dobson, who can’t even take care of himself anymore? Also the confirmation that he was kidnapped at the age of 16. And as we have no clarification how much time passed between Legends Vol. 1 and anything afterwards, that means that in a way Alex is a child abuser.

And now, here some examples by the rest of the cast. Like Uncle Peggy framing him for all sorts of his perverted actions and even trying to kill him for no apparent reason?

Alex trying to kill him with chicken pox…

…Destroying all his worldly posessions which is hilarious because he is a poor orphan…

…Essentially describing him as worthless because he was born with an Y-chromosome…

… doing the kind of thing Dobson claims women would never do to man, using their sex appeal to hurt them…

…forcing him to do some unnecessary and rather petty work for her in a physics defying manner (seriously, the way he holds the axe does not compute with how he swings it. Try it out yourself)

… stealing his food and just being a cruel sadistic cunt to him just because it is fun.

Which is “funny” in so far as that there are a few comics indicating she would jump his dick and ride it like a little pony if she could.

By the way, Talus and Atea are not better. None of them calls Alex out on her bullshit on average, Atea uses Sam to trigger traps in one story arc…

And Talus, the closest to a “friend” he is supposed to have, once for no apparent reason made him dig through his litterbox

And don’t get me even started when the characters decide to gang up on Sam, to the point he gets sexually harassedor is called to be less worth as a human being than the dirt you find in your belly button

Fuck’s sake, even in fanart everyone gangs up on him, even the freaking big bad of the story everyone is supposed to hate or be afraid of

Bottom line, Sam is an abuse victim played for laughs in this comics. And just to clarify, I do not think this was Dobson’s intention. But if the character is undeservingly the butt of jokes for the majority of over 120 strips, it turns nasty. The way Sam is treated, I just find disgusting and indictive of just how unlikable any other character in this comic is to the point I do not want to see this being turned into a proper “franchise”. And I assume others were disgusted by it too, cause Dobson eventually decided to make a story more or less addressing the treatment Sam receives, while also attempting to prove that deep down the assholes with starring roles in this trainwrack care for him. How did this play out? Well, I am going to talk about it, so likely not well. If you want to see the details, grab yourself some popcorn and take a toilet break before we tackle part 2 of this thing.

#andrew dobson #so you are a cartoonist #sjw #comics #comic #webcomic #alex ze pirate #sam the cabin boy #legends #tom preston #disgusting #male abuse #unfunny

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brelione · 4 years

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Field Trip With A Rich Bitch lll

Part One Part Two

Warnings:Swearing,Ward Cameron,very boring/dumb.

“We both hate Ward and he doesn't want me around pogues.What if we fake date?I can get you into my house and into his office and we can mess him up,ruin him from the inside out.”He spoke in a voice right above a whisper.You blinked,your eyes hurting. “You want to fake date?”You asked.He nodded. “Think about it,you can come around and we’ll pretend like you've never heard of him and you don't know what he did.We can eventually get him to confess and get a recording of it and then get him put in prison.”He ran his fingers through your hair,not really thinking about it.You gulped,eyes still locked on him. “He’ll know who I am when he hears my name.”You sighed.He smirked. “Right,but we dont let him know that you know.It’ll all work out.”He mumbled,rubbing the material of your shirt between his fingers. “That’s a terrible idea.”You laughed.He frowned. “I think it's a great idea.”He mumbled,a bit offended.

“Well,you’ve never been the smartest.”You smiled,twirling a chain between your pointer finger and thumb. “But I don't have a better idea.You’re the easiest way in the house,I guess.You really think we can get him to confess?”You asked.A smile tugged at his lips. “I've heard you’re the queen of manipulation,why don't you prove it?”He challenged you.You let go of him,looking to the gravestones.Four of your dead families members six feet under the ground,probably listening to this conversation.You hoped they were listening to your conversation at least,it didn't matter if they approved what you were doing or not.It just made you feel better to think that maybe they were all vibing in the afterlife.You lifted your knees up to prevent yourself from sinking all the way into the mud.He had given you his phone so you could create a new contact,typing your phone number in.He followed you back to the garage.

He was a lot more calm on the way back,knowing where all the branches and large roots were on the path.He had swatted away a butterfly which caused you to turn and laugh at him. “Dude,chill,it's just a butterfly.”You giggled.He frowned. “Okay well you didn't have it flying at your face.”He argued.You grinned,biting your lip slightly. “Fuckin pussy.”You mumbled,turning your feet so you could slide down the dirt hill.He had a more difficult time,nearly falling on his ass as he held on to tree branches to help himself out.He jumped,grabbing onto your arm when he saw a small snake. “DOnt act like you’ve never seen a garden snake before.”You grinned,watching the small reptilian creature as it twirled its body around a twig.He shook his head. “You’ve never seen a garden snake?Damn,rich bitch,you really are a pussy.”You laughed,dragging him along.You used a key to unlock the garage door,pulling the door back up and ducking under the door.You went to your table,grabbing a piece of gum and folding it into your mouth.He stood by his bike,watching you while you fixed the hole in the seat. “It's done.Pay up,rich bitch.”You sighed quietly,rubbing the leather seat with your thumb.

He pulled out his thick brown wallet,handing over two hundred dollar bills.You took them,looking into his blue eyes. “Twenty dollars too much.”You told him.He put his wallet back in his pocket,shrugging his shoulders. “My dad murdered your parents,you deserve a little extra.”He smiled.You nodded,folding the money and placing the bills into your pocket. “I’ll text you later.”HE mumbled.You nodded. “Sounds like a plan.”You replied. “You know you should wear a helmet,right?”You asked.He rolled his eyes. “I know,I know.”He replied,grabbing the handle bars and walking out from the garage.He swung his leg over the seat,gripping the handle bars before driving off,leaving a cloud of dirt in his path.You chewed your gum,watching as he left.You restarted your work on another car that was covered in dents,scratches and missing half of a window.

Rafe zoomed out of The Cut,not wanting any witnesses that could possibly tell his dad that he was driving around the area.He pulled up to his house,seeing Sarah swatting away seagulls with a giant leaf.He parked his bike,leaning it on his kickstand and swinging his leg off and standing up straight.He let out a few shaky breaths,preparing himself to deal with his father’s interrogation.He placed a hand on the door handle,inhaling again to calm his nerves before opening the door and stepping into the cool,air conditioned mansion. “Where were you?”Ward asked,holding a cup of water and taking a sip from it. “I was with a friend.”He replied.Ward’s eyes narrowed. “What friend?”Ward asked,knuckles turning white as he squeezed the glass in his hand. “New friend.”Rafe squeaked out,avoiding his father's gaze. “Come here.”Ward demanded.Rafe gulped,looking up at him. “Rafe.Come.Here.”Ward repeated,reaching a hand into his pocket and taking out a small flashlight.

Rafe slowly stepped forward,avoiding Ward’s gaze.He set his glass down on the table,flicking his flashlight on.He raised his hand,gripping Rafe’s jaw to keep his attention,lifting the flashlight up to Rafe’s face and pointing it directly over his eye.Rafe blinked,trying to pull his head away.Ward squeezed his jaw,keeping the light on his pupils. “What’s this guy's name?”Ward asked,letting go of his son's jaw.Rafe cleared his throat. “She.”He mumbled.Ward furrowed his eyebrows. “Where does she live?”Ward asked.Rafe shrugged. “Far away.”He replied.Ward shook his head. “What’s her name?”Ward asked. “(Y/N).”Rafe replied,backing away a few steps from his father.He didn't miss the way that Ward’s face paled,his eyes getting a bit wide as his nose wrinkled. “How do I know you were really with her?”Ward asked.Rafe sighed. “You want me to call her or something?”Rafe asked,exasperated. “Call her,do it.”Ward demanded.

Rafe bit his tongue,taking out his phone.Ward watched him like a hawk as he scrambled through his contacts,eventually finding your name.He pressed it,choosing audio call.He lifted his phone to his ear,waiting for you to answer. “Put it on speaker phone.”Ward told him.Rafe glared down at the older man,pulling the phone away and changing it to speaker so he could hear the ringing loudly. “Dude-it literally has not even been an hour since ive seen you.What the fuck do you want?”Your voice spoke,the screeching of metal on metal in the background.Rafe smiled. “(Y/N) you're on speaker phone,my dad is also in the room.”He held back a laugh as he listened to the absolute silence on your end. “So did you want something?”You asked.Ward cleared his throat. “Can you confirm that you were with Rafe all of this afternoon?”He asked.You let out a loud sigh. “Yeah.”You replied,the annoyance clear in your voice even over the phone. “What were you guys doing?”Ward asked,staring at Rafe.

“He visited me at work and brought me food.What were you doing while he was gone?”You asked.Ward frowned as a smirk spread across Rafe’s face. “I was waiting for him to get home.How long have you and Rafe been friends?”Ward continued his questions.You sighed. “A while,I dont know.Rafe,I gotta go, I'm still at work.I’ll talk to you later.”You spoke quickly.Rafe took you off speaker phone,pressing the phone back to his ear. “Alright,Love you.”He grinned before hanging up.He watched his father’s expressions,the way his face sunk when he realized he had been defeated.It was a far too wonderful sight.Rafe couldn't imagine the expression that would go across the man's face when he was busted for a double homicide. “She’s your girlfriend?”Ward asked.Rafe nodded,twisting the ring on his finger and waiting for this conversation to be over. “Yeah.”Rafe replied,his voice low and angry.Ward nodded. “You should invite her to have dinner with us tomorrow night.”He suggested.Rafe rolled his eyes,jogging up the stairs. “You’ve got a girlfriend?”Wheezie asked,coming out of her room.Rafe sighed,walking past her and into his room,locking the door behind him and flopping down onto his bed.

It was seven.You knew cause you had set a timer.You grabbed your backpack that you kept on a hook,changing your clothes behind a truck.You now wore a bikini with denim shorts that were tight against your thighs.You stuffed your overalls into your bag along with your yellow shirt.You put you container of sugar in with the gum that you had left,half a bag of doritos and the other lemons you had into your backpack,forcing it to zip shut.Your phone dinged in your pocket.You huffed,betting in your mind that it was Rafe Cameron.You were correct,a text from a random phone number coming across your screen.My Dad wanted me to ask you to come over for dinner tomorrow night.You wanna come?You stared down at the text,considering leaving him on delivered.You were not exactly sure you were ready to face the homicidal liar that was Ward Cameron.But then again it was free expensive food in a huge mansion.It wasn't like Ward could kill you in front of his wife and children.Sure.You replied,watching as the three dots blinked as he typed a response.I’ll pick you up tomorrow.Text me your address.You read the message before turning your phone off.You locked up the garage,stretching your arms.

You spent your evening swaying back and forth in John.B’s hammock while you played a tune from a ukelele that John.B had laying around his house. “How was work today?”JJ had asked you,laying down next to you in the hammock.You sighed dramatically. “Shitty.”You replied,dragging your fingernail along the cords.He nodded,running his fingers through your hair.JJ was one of your closest friends,one that Rafe had beaten before.He was one of three boys that weren't terrified of you,that didn't bow down to you like you were their queen.You were the Pogue Princess.Of course Kiara was a Pogue Princess but you...you were the Pogue Princess.The other two boys were Pope and John.B.They knew your friendly,bubbly side that joked about death and baked lemon muffins.They also knew your bitchy side,the one everyone else knew.JJ always loved how easily you could switch between the two and how you could steal things so easily.It was kind of just your job in life. “Oof.”JJ had replied. “Are you hanging out with us tomorrow?”Kiara asked.You sighed. “Unfortunately I have plans after work so I cannot.”You replied.JJ’s eyebrows furrowed. “Plans without us?Who are you?”He asked.

You yawned. “I’ve got other friends,you know.”You grinned,letting the ukulele rest against the bark of the tree. “I should probably head home soon and shower.I’ll see you guys this weekend though.”You smiled,getting out of the hammock and grabbing your backpack.They booed you and you flipped them off as you walked around John.B’s house and down the road.Your house was only a ten minute walk so you didnt really care or ask anyone to walk you home.When you got to your house you tossed your backpack on the floor,hearing the doritos crunch.Your phone rang.You looked down at it.Rafe was trying to facetime you.You accepted the call. “What?”You asked.He laughed. “Wow...I cant just call you to call you?”He asked.You sighed,waiting for him to get to the point. “You never texted me your address.”He explained himself.You set your phone down on the counter top. “Correct.I’ll just walk to your house.”You yawned,pouring yourself a cup of water and mixing cinnamon into it.He frowned.

“But like...you live over a mile away.That’s just dumb.”He grumbled.You rolled your eyes,chugging the spicy liquid. “What do I even wear?We gotta make this bullshit believable.”You pulled your hair up into a bun.He smiled,only half of his face visible across your phone screen. “It doesnt really matter what you wear.You’ll look cute no matter what.”His face turned red as he waited for your response. “Whatever you say,pussy.”You replied,glancing at your phone screen. “I’ll text you my address in the morning,ive got work until three.”you told him,sitting on your counter with your phone now in your hand.He nodded. “We have dinner at like five so that works.”He grinned. “Cool.Im gonna go cause ive got shit to do.See you tomorrow,rich bitch.”You hung up before he could respond.You took a cold shower,pulling on an old t shirt and clean underwear.You looked through your dresser,finding a dark green shirt and light pants.That would work.Now all you had to do was fake date Rafe Cameron without letting your friends know while simultaneously destroying Ward Cameron psychologically until he admitted to murder.That sounded simple enough.

@gabbismith

#rafe cameron #rafe obx #rafe x reader #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron x you #sarah cameron #obx #kiara carrera #jj maybank #pope heyward #ward cameron

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watchathon · 4 years

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Stitch Day Special: Lilo & Stitch

In case you’re finding this post just by browsing the tags I’ve used for this post, this is the Watch-a-Thon, a blog where I’m hoping to watch an episode of a show every one-to-two days, with a short blog post where I give my thoughts on what I’ve just seen. Each new point starts with a hyphen and a bolded first word.

- Like so.

But today? Well, today I’ve got an extra-special post in the wings about a movie, one of my favorite Disney movies, starring my absolute favorite Disney character: Lilo & Stitch!

- I like the variation on the Disney logo. That is the kind of stuff that they just couldn’t do with their new big fancy CGI logo.

- No clue why Jumba tried to deny that he created an experiment. I don’t much mind since it led to a funny joke, but c’mon, evil genius, you should be smart enough to plead guilty.

- “I would never, ever... make more than one.” *glances meaningfully in the direction of the series*

- “What is that monstrosity...?” He’s a cute widdle fluffball, that’s what he is!

- “Meega nala kweesta!” Canonically, this translates to “I want to destroy”, but that seems a little lukewarm for the reaction he got. Maybe a looser translation is in order...

There could be an entire aristocrats joke in those three words. The whole script to Batman v Superman. The opening notes to “Never Gonna Give You Up”...

Or maybe just “bitch”.

- Blood work is a lot different in space...

- Weird to imagine given the rest of the franchise, but Gantu was once a respected captain of the galactic federation.

- It’s easy to perceive Stitch as a dumb brute, but he’s pretty smart. He connected the dots all on his own, within minutes of his imprisonment, that if the guns are locked onto his DNA, he can use his saliva to trick them. Jumba wasn’t kidding when he boasted of his experiment’s intelligence.

- And not only was Gantu a captain, Pleakley was an expert on the planet Earth. Weird, innit...?

- “Are [humans] intelligent?” “No.” An exchange that only hurts more with every year.

- Love the implication that Pleakley was just suggesting several different relatives to assist with the capture of Stitch from when they were on the deck up until they got to the prison where Jumba was held.

- Now this is what we (or rather TVTropes) call an establishing character moment. A fish floats by holding a sandwich in its mouth, implying (soon confirming) that Lilo was the one to give it the sandwich, before rushing to the hula practice that she was late for, stopping to take a picture of a tourist along the way.

- And then after she arrives at hula practice, she explains that she had to give Pudge the fish a peanut butter sandwich because he controls the weather.

- No clue why the other girls are disgusted by Scrump. I always wanted a Scrump when I was a little lass.

- “Did you ever kill anyone?” Lilo asks the right questions.

- Nani, y’could’ve avoided this if you’d given a thumbs up instead...

- I don’t get the glare Cobra gives Nani after Lilo says that her friends need to be punished. Voodoo isn’t a failure of parenting. In many cases, at least...

- Licking Nani, growling after her capture, Lilo already has a lot in common with Stitch.

- Lucky that Lilo is such a quirky kid. The scene (semi-)explaining why she takes pictures of tourists was deleted, but it doesn’t feel like anything is missing because she already has a few habits that just plain inexplicable, like feeding Pudge, practicing voodoo with a pickle jar...

- Lilo wishing for an angel because of how lonely she is, that’s a sad moment. But also kinda funny in hindsight after she sarcastically names Stitch’s love interest Angel in the series.

- Lord give me the undisturbed...ness, of that frog who watched Stitch get run over by several trucks and only tilted its head.

- If they thought Stitch was dead, why did they keep it in the shelter? I mean, Lilo would probably adopt a dead dog, but she’s the outlier.

- I like how Jumba programmed, as part of Stitch’s destructive tendencies, an urge to steal everybody’s left shoe.

- You can just about pinpoint the moment where Stitch’s heart drops at learning that he’s on an island with no major cities.

- Just occurred to me that the badness level is red, and Stitch’s evil counterparts in the series (627 and Leroy) are both red.

- Ah, David. One of the best Disney love interests, mostly because he isn’t entirely a love interest. There is a mutual attraction, but Nani just isn’t ready for that with everything going on in her life, and David respects that and is happy to be a friend.

- I like how everyone except Lilo heavily suspects that Stitch isn’t a dog.

- Ohhh, the thought of Stitch having drank coffee. I mean, I’d love to see it, but it’d be Hell for Nani.

- Stitch looks just plain adorable with a lei.

- Well, Lilo, you did tell Stitch he should create something. And he did, he just destroyed his creation afterward.

- Pleakley is a gender-nonconforming icon.

- The first time we see Stitch doing something without even the intention of destroying anything is when he finds the book about the Ugly Duckling. It’s clear that he’s fascinated just by looking at it. And when Lilo explains the story? It resonates with him. Or, well, perhaps he wants it to resonate with him.

- I wish I had an evil koala dog that played records.

- Are we sure that “Meega nala kweesta” means “I want to destroy”? Maybe it means “I was born to dance”, ‘cause Stitch learns about dancing and in less than a minute he’s already an expert.

- I imagine this montage, or slightly earlier, would be when that deleted scene of Lilo trolling the obnoxious racist tourists originally came into play. And I like this scene, but, I do wish that scene hadn’t gotten cut. And I wish that they fully animated it and inserted it into the movie like Warner Bros did with The Iron Giant.

- Nothing cheers me up more than this scene of Stitch and his newfound family going surfing. And especially since Stitch is aquaphobic. He’s very much aware that he cannot swim, and likely wouldn’t survive if he fell off the board into the ocean. But even he eventually gets into the spirit of it, asks Lilo himself to go surfing, and enjoys a nice bonding moment with his family. And David.

- Of course Jumba and Pleakley had to ruin a perfectly sweet moment.

- And so we transition from a heartwarming wholesome moment, to a heartbreaking tearful moment. You can just see Nani holding back tears as she says that she needs to take Lilo home.

As for Stitch, David probably didn’t even realize that Stitch could understand him when he said that Lilo and Nani had a chance until Stitch came along. But Stitch did understand, and he’s visibly hurt by the idea. He always wanted to destroy, but in this moment, he’s ashamed of how he might have destroyed Lilo’s family.

- And the Ugly Ducking metaphor comes back, when in this moment, as Stitch is coming back to a family that he fears he may have ruined, he sees a lone duck... before that duck is followed by a big family of ducklings.

- Lilo says that Stitch cries at night. So, it would seem that even before he completely learned how to be nice, Stitch wasn’t entirely emotionless.

- This whole act of the film is heart-wrenching. First Nani gets confirmation that she and Lilo will be separated, then Stitch starts to fear that he may have caused it. Then because of that? Stitch leaves, taking only the Ugly Duckling book with him. And he can only see in himself the page of the Duckling, lost and crying.

- Then Jumba tells Stitch, who’s already in a bad place emotionally, that he was made to destroy, has no family, and could never have one.

- I don’t want to think about what happened to that chainsaw.

- There’s a certain feeling that comes up in the middle of this fight scene, where you realize that a house is being destroyed, a house belonging to a family that was very much at risk of separation. And you realize that this will only hurt their case beyond any repair.

- If the past day hadn’t been bad enough, Stitch is told by his best friend Lilo that he ruined everything, and to get away.

- And so Nani really does have her sister taken away. Now, taken away by aliens is a lot different than taken away by social services. It’s worse. This way Nani knows that Lilo definitely won’t get a loving family, and Nani will definitely never see her again.

- The confusion is visible on Jumba and Pleakley when Stitch goes and comforts Nani with a quote about family. All they know about Stitch is that he was made to destroy. And then, once he’s captured, he does just about the opposite.

- “Ih.” To this day I sometimes say Ih on reflex when asked a yes-or-no question. Guess I watched this movie way too many times as a kid, huh? ...I regret nothing.

- Originally, the big red plane-looking thing was supposed to just be a plane, and it would’ve flown through a city. And it was changed because it was too soon after 9/11. But me personally, I think the big red thing is real cool, and I like it flying through the valleys.

- “Stitch is unconscious.” I like that Jumba calls Stitch by his name here. In the series, he always calls Stitch “626″ but his name is Stitch. And I like the rare occasion when that’s respected by the mad genius who created him.

- I want to believe that Stitch dodged that laser for the sake of the frog he was holding more than for his own sake. Stitch is strong enough that a few moments later, he survives an explosion of a whole truck that he’s lying on top of.

- Stitch proudly calling himself “cute and fluffy” is another thing I just love. Might be reading too much into it, but I like that he can call himself by those descriptors and still have total confidence in his ability to kick Gantu’s patookie.

- My favorite scene in the movie, and the scene I took the picture from.

Stitch corrects the Grand Councilwoman about his name. And when he’s told that he needs to go in the ship (the implication being that he’ll be punished like he was meant to be at the beginning), he doesn’t rebel or try to escape. He only politely asks that he be allowed to say goodbye.

He explains that his family is “little and broken, but still good”, both explaining it to the councilwoman and reassuring Lilo and Nani.

This is the ultimate display of how Stitch has grown. And he grew because, despite what Jumba said, Stitch could find, and did find, the one true place he belonged: With a good, loving family.

- The Grand Councilwoman is clearly remorseful that they’ll have to separate Stitch from his family, but she can’t bend the law for this one case. And she doesn’t, but it just so happens that, legally speaking, Lilo owns Stitch. And, well, what self-respecting Grand Councilwoman would steal a child’s property?

- A lot of people (including middle-school me) say that the stuff with Stitch and the aliens get in the way of the story of Lilo and Nani. I disagree. These two stories are intertwined, both about people wanting to stay with the family where they know they belong. I just couldn’t, at all, imagine one without the other.

- Now this is the kind of ending I love. It’s become common for animated movies, sequels in particular, to end on the two main characters getting separated. But here? Stitch is now a definitive part of the family, and won’t be separated from them anytime soon. Anime? What anime?

FINAL THOUGHTS:

I guess I’ll be doing this on the rare occasion I cover movies...?

Anyway, this is a great movie. A modern classic. And one of very few things that doesn’t just hold up from when I was a kid, it gets better. When I was a tiny kid, I was only interested in the space aliens. When I was in my early teens, I thought the aliens were kiddy stuff.

But nowadays, I can truly appreciate it. I can appreciate how both aspects are vital to the movie. Lilo and Stitch are both equally important. You can’t have one without the other.

And most of all, I can appreciate the story of Stitch (as well as Jumba and Pleakley) finding a family, and Lilo (as well as Nani) saving theirs from being torn apart.

Lilo & Stitch brings me to tears of both joy and sadness every time I watch it. And I guarantee I’ll be watching it many more times in the future.

...Does it still count as a Stitch Day special if I’m posting after midnight? No, probably not. I thought I’d only take two hours, then I took four and a half. Guess that means I had more thoughts than I thought I did!

#Lilo and Stitch #Lilo & Stitch #language #Jumba Jookiba #Stitch #Experiment 626 #Captain Gantu #Wendy Pleakley #Lilo Pelekai #Scrump #Nani Pelekai #Cobra Bubbles #David Kawena #Grand Councilwoman #long post #my new best post yet #Movie

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howaminotinthestrokesyet · 3 years

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Behind The Album: Nevermind

The second studio album from Nirvana was released in September 1991 via DGC Records. This release would be their first on that label, as well as the first album to feature new drummer Dave Grohl. The album initially begin as a project for Sub Pop with producer Butch Vig attached to it at the suggestion of the label. They traveled to Madison, Wisconsin to record at Vig’s studio in early April 1990. At this time, the group recorded eight tracks including “Lithium,” “Breed,” “In Bloom,” and others, but Cobain was still working on more material for the record. On April 6, the band played a local show in Madison, but the singer strained his voice putting on hold temporarily the recording sessions as they had a short Midwestern tour that same week. After the tour, drummer Chad Channing announced his departure from the group putting everything on hold once again. Krist Novoselic and Cobain had seen the band Scream featuring drummer Dave Grohl and were impressed by his playing. By lucky coincidence, his group broke up around that same time. Grohl contacted Novoselic to see about an audition. He would join the band shortly thereafter as the bass player would say with Dave “everything fell into place.”

By this time, Sub Pop continued to have major financial difficulty, which worried the group. Cobain made the decision to forgo working with such an independent label, but instead signing with a major record company. After shopping around for a few months, they signed with Geffen Records imprint DGC after a recommendation by Kim Gordon of Sonic Youth. The label would suggest a number of producers for the second album, but Nirvana held out to continue to work with Butch Vig. The reason behind this came in the fact that they were comfortable with him. Another factor was that he did not ask for percentage points upon the release of any album. The group recorded the LP at Sound City Studios in Van Nuys, California in May and June 1991. In an interesting twist, they needed gas money to actually get to the studio to begin recording, so the band played a show for extra money where “Smells Like Teen Spirit” would be performed for the first time. The other new song that had not been worked on in the previous sessions was “Come As You Are.” The recording sessions lasted 8 to 10 hours a day as Grohl and Novoselic completed their parts in a matter of days. Cobain‘s work took a little bit longer as he added more guitar parts and put the finishing touches on the vocals. He would sometimes only finish writing lyrics just before he would sing them for the album. Butch Vig would say that he only could convince Cobain to double track his vocals when he told the singer that John Lennon used to do it. The producer expressed frustration with the Nirvana frontman. “He'd be great for an hour, and then he'd sit in a corner and say nothing for an hour." Nirvana was unhappy with the first few mixes of the album after they finished recording. They made the decision to bring in another producer to do the mixing. Eventually, they decided to bring in Andy Wallace, who had worked on Slayer’s 1990 album. Krist Novoselic she would say, “We said, 'right on,' because those Slayer records were so heavy." Nevermind would be mastered at the Mastering Lab in Hollywood. Howie Weinberg began working on the record despite the fact that nobody else from the band had arrived yet. By the time everyone had gotten there, he was essentially done. After the release of the record, the band expressed a tremendous amount of dissatisfaction with how it sounded. Everyone in the group felt that it was too commercial. Kurt Cobain said, “Looking back on the production of Nevermind, I'm embarrassed by it now. It's closer to a Mötley Crüe record than it is a punk rock record." Butch Vig would later say in an interview that it was the artist in Cobain that made him complain like that. One simply could not say in public thank you for helping to create an album that sold 10 million copies.

The major influences for Kurt Cobain during the writing of Nevermind were Pixies , the Smithereens, REM, and the Melvins. He intentionally wanted to emphasize melody in a much more emphatic way on this album. A key development came when they released the single “Sliver” before Grohl had even joined the group. The singer said it “was like a statement in a way. I had to write a pop song and release it on a single to prepare people for the next record. I wanted to write more songs like that." His goal from the onset was to write power chords that could be combined with punk rock guitar riffs. He would use the example of trying to combine the Knack or Bay City Rollers with Black Flag. One new feature of the music on the album emerges in the band's employment of extreme dynamics, meaning that there exist abrupt changes from quiet to loud verses. Guitar World would say this about Cobain‘s playing on this album. “Kurt Cobain's guitar sound on Nirvana's Nevermind set the tone for Nineties rock music." Dave Grohl would later say that the singer always stressed that the music came first, not the lyrics. He was still writing lyrics halfway through the recording of Nevermind, while Vig has said that some of the lyrics are inaudible anyway. "Even though you couldn't quite tell what he was singing about, you knew it was intense as hell." Later on, Cobain would complain about journalists trying to understand him through his lyrics. “Why in the hell do journalists insist on coming up with a second-rate Freudian evaluation of my lyrics, when 90 percent of the time they've transcribed them incorrectly?" Charles R. Cross, author of the Cobain biography Heavier Than Heaven, would claim in his book that half of the songs on Nevermind are about Kurt Cobain‘s ex-girlfriend Toby Vail. The first line of “Drain You” was something that she had actually said to him, “One baby to another said 'I'm lucky to have met you.” He modified the lyrics to “Lithium,” which had been written prior to meeting her in order to reference his relationship with her. The phrase “Smells Like Teen Spirit” was something that she came up with while living with Cobain. It was originally meant as a joke, but the singer took it as some sort of revolutionary phrase. Krist Novoselic would later comment that the track “Lounge Act” is undoubtedly about Vail.

The working title of the album had been Sheep, which Cobain thought represented a funny inside joke as to who would buy the album. The origin of that title comes from the public's reaction to Operation Desert Storm. The singer decided to change it to Nevermind because he also liked the fact it was grammatically incorrect and symbolized how he felt about life. Nevermind also referenced one of Cobain’s favorite albums by the Sex Pistols, Never Mind the Bollocks. He does mention the title once in the track “Smells Like Teen Spirit:” “oh well, whatever, never mind.”

The famous cover of the album was conceived by Cobain as well after watching a television show with Dave Grohl about water births. They first tried stock footage of water births, but the images were much too graphic for an album cover. They finally found at least one photo that may work, but the company wanted $7500 to use the photo. Finally, a photographer went to a pool to find a baby for the picture. The actual baby they found was someone named Spencer Elden, the son of a friend of the photographer. Eldonwood recreated that picture for subsequent anniversary photos for the album throughout the years.

The album debuted at 144 on the Billboard charts, but by January the record was number one in the country. The success of “Smells Like Teen Spirit” saw the demand for the album spiral in such a way that the record company could not keep up with the demand for a time. Geffen Records needed to stop printing any other albums released around the same time, so they could make more of Nevermind. At its height, Nevermind sold 300,000 copies a week. The LP would be certified platinum in November 1991, a mere 13 months after its release. The president of Geffen Records would say this to the New York Times. “We didn't do anything. It was just one of those 'Get out of the way and duck' records." The members of Nirvana seemed relatively unconcerned about the success of the album as Novoselic would say in an interview that achieving gold record status was cool, but not that important to him. By the time of their European tour in 1992, the sales of the album made any marketing ideas previously planned by the record label to be unusable.

Another interesting thing that came about through the phenomenal popularity of the album was the fact that not many places actually reviewed the album at first. Most of the reviews remained positive, but they seemed to stress the potential of the band. Entertainment Weekly’s David Browne would give the album an A minus, while the New York Times would say, “With 'Nevermind,' Nirvana has certainly succeeded. There are enough intriguing textures, mood shifts, instrumental snippets and inventive word plays to provide for hours of entertainment." The best review probably came from Everett True of Melody Maker, who had this to say. “When Nirvana released Bleach all those years ago, the more sussed among us figured they had the potential to make an album that would blow every other contender away. My God have they proved us right.” Not everyone loved the album though as evidenced by the Boston Globe saying that the record was for the most part generic punk rock. The greatest achievement of Nevermind was the fact that the record brought Seattle grunge, which later became alternative music, into the mainstream. The bands, the fashion, the culture that existed in Seattle now had made its way to Madison Avenue. The album led to the success of other groups like Pearl Jam, Soundgarden, Smashing Pumpkins, and so many more. Please check out the article later in this book on the story of grunge for further discussion on the cultural legacy of Nevermind. Rolling Stone named the album number six in its 2020 list of the 500 Greatest Albums of All Time, as well as number one on its list of the Greatest Albums of the 1990’s. In 2001, VH1 would poll over 500 rock writers and journalists for the greatest albums of all time, which led to their choice of Nevermind as the number one album. In 2005, the record was added to the national record registry put together by the Library of Congress. Even Pitchfork would name the album number six for the decade of the 1990’s. The site wrote, “Anyone who hates this record today is just trying to be cool, and needs to be trying harder."

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kessielrg · 3 years

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[Kingdom Hearts] F-You in Bouquet

Summary: By far, Ven's got the most boring job at the flower shop; the cashier. Sitting day in and day out for someone to browse along the rows of flowers and gardening tools, then probably walk right out again. Sometimes an interesting thing would happen- but they were few and far between. [flower shop AU focused on UX kids][Part 1 in a series of oneshots][VenxOC][EphemerxOC/F!Player]

Rating: K+ (cursing)

Word Count: 2,171 words

If you like this story, please reblog!

. . .

Ventus had the most boring job at the flower shop; being the cashier. Day in and day out, from after school to closing, Ven sat on a lumpy stool to watch next to no one come in. There was more of a commotion in the shop around spring- since they offered gardening supplies to help offset how little people randomly bought bouquets and arrangements for their loved ones. Not that Ven should be complaining- it was, in a way, easy money. He even had time to get his homework done in the first hour or so too.

Not that Skuld couldn't find something for him to do. Especially if he dared to utter that he was bored. However, just a low sigh would have made Skuld suggest he do something else if she heard him. That's happened before, and it was in the process of almost happening again. Ven sat at the front counter while Skuld sat at a wooden table behind him. The table in question was for finished arrangements that were scheduled to be picked up in person by the customer. Sometimes they used it as an extra table to make arrangements when the ones in the backroom were set to be cleaned off. Today, Skuld was making it her base of operations while she went through current, old, and new orders while also doing a bit of budgeting as well.

If her occasional grunts of agitation were any indication, the backlog had been much longer than what she had anticipated.

“Ephemer,” Skuld loudly declared, giving only the briefest of glances toward the backroom, “I'm gonna have to cancel your weekly order of flowers to Anora. We're going to need those spares for a bigger arrangement this week.”

“Naw,” Ephemer whined from the back room, “How will my wife know that I love and cherish her?”

Ven watched as Skuld let out a hard sigh, setting down her pen so she could rub her temples. In a voice that was understandably exhausted, Skuld groaned, “Ephemer…!”

That was when the young man actually came to the doorway bordering the main shop and the backroom. His face was rather serious as he looked back at his old partner in crime.

“I was joking, Skuld.” he told her- his voice no less serious. “It was a joke.”

“Uh huh,” Skuld mused as she reached for a piece of floral wire next to her. She bent it into a triangle shape as she told Ephemer, “Get back to work you lovestruck slacker.”

Before he could give a retort, Skuld tossed the bent wire in his direction. Ephemer let out a yelp of surprise before ducking back into his workspace.

“Rude!” he shouted from the backroom, leading Skuld to let out a rather amused laughter. She needed to let out that laugh- Ven could tell just by the way she sighed after recollecting herself.

After that distraction, the main shop got so eerily quiet that Ven's ears almost starting to ring. The hours went by as Skuld made corrections to orders and did whatever else she did. Time passed by so slowly, that Ven was surprised when Brain hit the counter on his way out.

“Whelp, time for me bounce.” he announced, giving Skuld and Ventus a nod.

“Have a good night.” Skuld replied with a little wave. “Remember that time sheets are due this week.”

“Already did mine.” the smooth talking young man affirmed. “But before I go, I gotta warn you two- the Queen of Sheba will be gracing you with her presence today after she gets done at work. She'll tell you the details once she gets here.”

Ven's heart suddenly leaped into his throat. “Sabrina?” he asked, almost automatically. Skuld, on the other hand, groaned.

“And here I was thinking about finishing up for the day too.” she said. Skuld placed two fingers at the bridge of her nose as she thought things over. “We're overstaffed as it is right now. Ephemer will be off the clock in another thirty minutes- and he has to go because I promised him as much when he stayed late yesterday. Which means you'll be manning the store on your own, Ven. Do you think you could help her out without the rest of us?”

“M-me?” he stammered. He even pointed to himself as if he had no idea of his own presence in the room.

“It'll be fine.” Brain nodded. “She likes you.”

The young man's head whipped to his older peer. “Really?”

“Just take her order and we'll fill it later.” Skuld added on. “Shouldn't be any different than any other customer.”

“Should.” Brain teased with a tip of his fedora. He then choose to make that the mark of his leave, failing to even warn Ven when exactly Sabrina would be coming around. Even if Ventus told Skuld he could do it, and that odd glare she gave him didn't inspire confidence, a part of him wondered even if he could handle Sabrina alone.

The waiting for her to come in became nearly unbearable. Skuld left not soon after Brain, and Ephemer left on time and wished Ven the best of luck. He just hoped she was in a good mood. Normal Sabrina was a handful because of her natural pessimism and sass. But angry Sabrina? Ven shuddered. No man alive knew how to calm Sabrina down when she was mad. He had been so lost in worrying about Sabrina's mood, and the boredom of nothing going on, that he almost fell asleep. He didn't even quite register that the little bell above the flower shop's door jingled before he saw Sabrina angrily stomping her way to the main counter.

“How do you say 'fuck you' in a bouquet?” Sabrina demanded, her voice almost a bit too loud, as she slammed her hands onto the counter. It startled Ven for a moment- definitely waking him up from his half sleep.

“I, uh...” he stammered as he tried to get his brain in gear. The pure rage in Sabrina's chocolate brown eyes filled Ven with both awe and great fear. His mind was blank, but he still managed to say one word, “Poppies.”

That immediately made Sabrina raise an eyebrow. “Poppies?” she repeated, her voice well laced with skepticism.

“Poppies.” Ven said once more, nodding his head almost a bit too fast. “Their seeds can be extracted to make drugs- opium. And, um, you're not allowed to grow them by seed in certain regions, and, uh...” The teen was about five seconds away from slapping himself. He was too stupefied by Sabrina's presence that he didn't even bother to voice the most obvious question on the table. “Why do you want a… uh, 'fuck you' bouquet anyway?”

Sabrina stood a bit straighter, her hands forming into fists. “I'm getting laid off.” she grumbled.

“I'm sorry...”

“Don't be.” she quickly shot at him. She looked away for a moment to mumble, “Boss was an asshole anyway.”

“So why are you…?”

Sabrina looked back at Ven- her eyes shining with a fierce determination. “His birthday is next week, and I want to piss him off one more time- think you can help me?”

All Ventus could gave her at this point was a slow nod. In the back of his mind, he was almost grateful that -while she didn't say she liked him directly- it was clear that she had some genuine regard toward him. Otherwise she'd be making him dig his own grave; literally.

“We'd need to have other flowers than just poppies though.” he then said to her. He quickly looked around for a scrap piece of paper so he could -badly- sketch out the arrangement for her. “The poppies can decorate the lower portion of the arrangement, but we'd need something as a focal point. Something tall that can create a semi or quarter circle in the back.”

“Like lavender?”

Ven blinked before looking back up at her. “Lavender?”

Sabrina shrugged. “Gotta know it came from me, right?”

“Right.” the young man agreed- his face flushing a bit. “Lavender could do. It might be hard to find stalks tall enough, though. But we'd still need something… something that would make a statement. What about...”

“A rose.” the two of them said at the same time. Both seemed a bit off guard by their equal thought, leading them to just stare at each other.

“Black roses represent death sometimes.” Ven suddenly said, his voice just a pitch too high as he tried to look away from Sabrina. “We can even have the thorns in tact to really make a, uh, a statement. You know?”

“Sounds good.” Sabrina nodded. She looked down at Ven's arrangement sketch- his generic looking poppies and poor lavender scribbles left much to be desired. “Do you take the rose thorns off by hand, or do you buy them in bulk like that?”

“A bit a both.” the teen told her. He took a step back or two from the counter to give her some space. “We try to get precut roses because Strelitzia keeps finding new ways to hurt herself, apparently...”

Sabrina looked up at him. “But?”

“Lauriam tries to keep some flowers growing year round in the greenhouse. Depending on the color, I might be able to cut one right off the bush for you.”

“Black roses aren't natural, are they?”

“Not exactly. The closest are really just super red ones. Sometimes a dark purple too. Even then, we sometimes use dye to make them look a bit darker.”

“Does Lauriam have any that dark?”

“I'm not sure offhand. But I can show you what he has.”

“Are you allowed to do that?” Sabrina asked, folding her arms as she gave him a neat raise of his eyebrow.

Ven looked everywhere but at her as he sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck. “No, not really.” he admitted. “But it would only be for a moment. It shouldn't hurt anything.”

“Then lead the way.”

A jolt shot through Ventus for a moment. With a shaking hand, he gestured for her to follow him to the backroom. From there, they could use a side door into the greenhouse. It was with a hyper awareness that he noted that Sabrina strolled rather close to him.

This wasn't a bad thing, not really. Sabrina was Brain's sister- almost a part of the Dandelion crew herself. She could be in the backrooms and the greenhouse if she had staff permission. Besides, Ephemer's wife and kid were allowed back this way sometimes. Usually because Ephemer couldn't keep his hands off his wife for more than a minute, but still. Ven would be lying if he said he hadn't considered doing it before too. Not with Ephemer's wife, of course, but with…

“You always forget how naturally smooth real flowers are.” Sabrina sighed. Ven took a look back at her to notice that the tip of her finger was gently grazing some tiger lilies. For a moment, he found himself jealous of a stupid flower.

“Lauriam's rose bushes are this way, Sabrina.” Ventus said. It brought her attention back to him and allowed the two of them to continue their venture.

Their check on the rose bushes didn't take long. Sabrina only gave the black rose bush a nod before deciding that they would do for the task. The duo walked back to the main shop in silence- the rest of the arrangement made in near silence.

“The flowers will be delivered on your boss's birthday, right to his office.” Ven told her once everything was settled. He bit his lip for a moment before hazarding to ask, “Since you're not going to be working for awhile, are you going to be visiting the shop more? To visit Brain or whatever.”

“Dunno.” Sabrina huffed. She looked up at him before asking, “What times are you usually here for?”

A faint blush appeared on Ven's cheeks as he scratched the tip of his nose a bit. “Pretty much every day after school. We're not opened on the weekends, you know. It really makes stuff boring.”

Sabrina gave a thoughtful hum. “Maybe I'll visit.” she decided as she picked up her receipt. “After homework's done.”

“Right.” Ven dimly agreed. Sabrina gave him one last inquisitive stare before she started to leave. After she left, the teen let out a soft sigh as he rested his hand in his head. He could have gone to sleep right then and there had he not remembered that he needed to get home soon. As he got the store ready for closing, he wondered what the odds were that Sabrina could start working at Dandelion's as well. But the thought immediately left as he shut the lights off for the night. Sabrina deciding to join their crew was just as ridiculous as asking her not to wear purple.

But, as it crossed Ven's mind when he saw Terra's truck pull into the parking lot, it wasn't entire impossible either...

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masquerade-story · 3 years

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Chapter 5 - Commencing Plan

"Earth has magic too. Alchemy and enchantments. Chemistry and technology. Same things, different names." Crystal spoke slowly as she examined the cloth material in her hands, checking for tears or weak points in the weave.

Grey pumped his fist, a triumphant look on his face. "I knew it! No way that backflipping robot was natural science."

"Science is the study of the world around you. It doesn't cancel out the existence of magic, it just helps to understand its rules better."

"Listen here, little miss know-it-all."

"I don't know it all, just more than you."

"Hey!"

Crystal grinned, finishing her examination without sparing an extra glance for the outraged Grey stomping his foot at her side.

"That's a low bar some days," Rayne said with an exaggerated sigh, then promptly ducked as Grey chucked a pillow at her face.

"Lils!" Grey whined, draping dramatically over his sister's lap, interrupting her own costume examination. "They're bullying me!"

"The truth hurts sometimes dearest," Lillian muttered, much to her twin's dismay. He recoiled away as though she'd flung him, pressing the back of his hand to his forehead in distress.

"Betrayal! Mine own blood doth betray!"

"My point," Crystal continued, using a needle and thread to tighten up a bit of beaded tape on a hem that came loose. "Was that when I said magic exists on this world, I mean I don't know what form this world's magic is going to take, so we should be careful until we understand more. It may be familiar, like chemistry and technology, or it could be something more fantastical, like what that Eater pulled on us. Until we know the rules, we shouldn't be reckless."

"What if being reckless is part of the rules?"

"Then we'll find out soon enough and adjust our course of action."

"I hate that you have an answer for everything."

"Then stop asking questions."

Crystal and Grey stuck out their tongues at each other while Lillian giggled, and Rayne shook her head at the foolishness of it all. "Children, please."

"You're the youngest one here!"

"Hard to tell by looking, huh?" Rayne shrugged. She wasn't nearly as useful with sewing, so she'd taken to tying on little chimes and ribbons to decorate her bodhrán since her large acoustic kit was much too large and bulky for their purposes. The small frame drum, just a bit over a foot in diameter and only four inches deep, was much easier to carry and play.

When they brought their main instruments for the music video, they brought along a few supplementary instruments to use for the mixing as well. Actual recording was going to happen in a proper studio, but sometimes having them around and playing them when practicing could spark more natural inspiration than trying to force it during a recording session.

So in addition to Crystal's small harp, Grey's bouzouki, Lillian's electric keyboard and Rayne's acoustic drum kit, they also brought along macho bongos, a bodhrán, a tambourine, a fiddle, a bombard, an ocarina, a zither, enough bell bangles for the four of them, and a kalimba which Lillian was unnaturally proficient with. None of the instruments were particularly large, so it was easy to fit them in alongside everything else in the hand cart. Especially the kalimba - a hand-sized wooden board with attached staggered metal tines, which made an ethereally charming resonating sound when played despite its minuscule size.

"Rayne's got her drum, I'm taking my bouzouki, Lils is bringing..."

"Kalimba."

"Right, right. Coco, which instrument are you grabbing?"

Crystal snipped the thread with her teeth after tying a tight knot. "Since Lils is bringing the kalimba, I'll go with the fiddle."

"Ooh, are we gonna do a jig?"

"Maybe. We have to see what the climate's like in town."

"Climate is cold, Coco. There's snow."

"Emotional climate, Goofus! If something terrible happened recently, if there's an illness going around or a famine or what have you, it'd be inappropriate to run in with a nice cheerful Stick Across the Hob."

"Ah, Morrison's Jig. A classic."

"We can play it if people are friendly to us. Who knows, maybe they hate folk music. There was a time in our own history where the only socially appropriate music was religious hymns, you know."

"Gross."

"Right? So again, we just have to be careful."

"And then once they like us we can do fun songs, right?"

"Maybe slow tempo drinking songs or instrumental sea shanties to uh, test the waters."

"Har de har. Lyrics?"

"I really, really, extremely thoroughly and tragically doubt they'll speak English or any of the other languages we can sing in, and they might be alarmed by foreign languages. Classic orchestral music might be our best bet, honestly."

A potentially insurmountable language barrier was part of the reason their little group hemmed and hawed about heading to town. On the one hand they definitely needed more information about the world, but on the other hand, walking in without any knowledge or method of communication was a terrifying prospect.

So they did what they all did best, and procrastinated productively. The costumes were a good start, but they weren't sturdy enough to withstand frigid winter winds since the things were entirely cosmetic. Lillian proposed they somehow create thicker linings for their clothes, and Grey suggested they make use of the house's ability to restore items in order to do just that. But for that to work, they'd have to understand how it worked.

That night they waited with bated breath after destroying a single pillow, shredding it to bits as a sacrifice to the experimental gods of magic science. As soon as midnight ticked over on the household clocks, a new pillow appeared in its original place on its appropriate bed, and the shredded remains of the sacrificed pillow were still laying sad and limp on the floor.

"Infinite pillow glitch," Grey had whispered with delight, setting the other three to helpless giggling at his dumb joke.

The next day was spent ruining disposable objects around the house to various degrees and moving them around in order to determine the magic house's threshold of accounting damage and item 'respawning' limits. Some items were completely replaced, some were merely repaired, items from outside the property didn't count, and everything else had different thresholds for what counted as damage and what didn't.

While everyone was running around wrecking their house and generally having a good time doing magic science, Crystal put an empty jar outside of the fence to sit overnight. After the reset that night, it was fully replaced complete with its original contents, while the original empty jar remained outside of the property wedged into the snow.

Crystal smiled to herself with this new discovery, and put several small jars of preserves outside the fence in one of the small wooden crates she found in the cellar, covered with a thick towel to help insulate the glass.

"What were you getting up to?" Grey asked, as she stomped back into the house rubbing her arms to fight off the winter chill.

"Wishing we had warmer clothes," Crystal sighed, the mischievous glint in her eyes telling Grey he wouldn't get any answers yet. "Or at least pajamas with sleeves."

"Plotting something sinister?"

"Maybe."

"Rock on. Lemme know if I can help."

"Of course."

With their new knowledge regarding item respawn rules, they set about tearing more pillows and sheets into raw materials for upgrading their silly stage costumes into something functional, and copied the costumes into several spare sets for each of them just in case.

The costumes were inspired by fantasy medieval fashion and Renaissance faire finery, all four virtually identical in styling. Surcoats with silver bead tape and embroidery, high collar tunics with voluminous bishop sleeves, canvas cloaks with deep hoods, leather bracers, leather boots, leather belts with ring clasps, assorted leather bags, gloves, and leggings. Aside from the white tunic, everything was black with silver embellishments such as bead tape and braided fabric trims, or embroidery that shimmered in the light. The cloaks also sported little silver jingling bells attached along the hem, matching decorative bells on the boots and bags.

Most importantly, each of them had a unique Venetian masquerade mask with an attached beaded black face veil. The intricate, ornate masks had little bells dangling from loops on the sides, and were decorated with gemstone accents around and above the eyes; each member of Aos Sí Echtrae used a different gemstone for their stage name to capitalize on all the 'Fairy Rock' jokes they could make.

Plus, Crystal was already named after a shiny rock, so it was convenient all around.

"How are we gonna make these clothes warmer?" Grey asked, holding up his surcoat and raising an eyebrow in Lillian's direction.

"Quilting." Lillian said, gesturing with her hands to try and pantomime what she meant. "Gonna create pocket insulation layers using sheets, fill them with cotton and feather down and foam and whatever else we have to use. Then sew the pocket insulation layer in the middle of the original costume layer and an inner lining, to make the clothes warm without sacrificing their aesthetic!"

"The cloaks too?"

"The cloaks especially. They're already a strong sturdy material and have been water sealed, insulating them will basically turn them into actual quilts to shield us from the wind. In fact, I'll probably use cloak copies to make waterproof pants, since insulating leggings is a bit hard thanks to their thin material..."

"Too bad we can't make better boots too," Crystal sighed, glancing out the window. It hadn't stopped snowing since they arrived, and though most of the layers didn't completely stick, there was still a foot of snow outside they'd have to slog through to reach town. If the weather continued, they would have to put off the visit until some of that snow melted off.

"I'll break the path for you guys," Rayne said, flexing a powerful bicep. "No worries. We should still wait until it stops snowing, though. Walking through bad weather always sucks, even more so if it's over a big distance."

"Remembering high school?"

"God, that hill was brutal."

"Hey, everyone gets to help out with this!" Lillian said, pointing at the other three who were subtly edging toward the door during their conversation.

"I can't sew," Rayne quickly protested, and Lillian held up a finger to shush her.

"The lining doesn't have to be sewn pretty, the stitches just have to be strong. We need to make several copies of the belts, I want to repurpose them into something else... And I wanna keep an original copy of the costumes as well as have several sets of each so this is gonna take a few days worth of resetting to complete. Oh! Rayne, you can find big branches to make into walking sticks, the ground will be uneven under the snow and we don't wanna trip."

"Yes ma'am..."

Under Lillian's watchful eye, everyone got to work on different tasks in order to prepare for their first visit to another world's town, feeling a combination of trepidation and excitement in their hearts.

------

"Hey guys? There's uh. There's something weird." Rayne's voice echoed down the hall, followed by the sound of heavy footsteps as she hurried toward the living room where the others were gathered around the finished costumes and enjoying the last of their breakfast.

"What in the... Is that... Is that a telescope?!" Grey asked incredulously as Rayne rounded the corner with something large and heavy in her arms.

"I was checking out the study and found it in one of the cabinets. So, the study has that windowed alcove bit that sticks out from the side of the house, right?"

"Yeah, like a breakfast nook but for books. Book nook!" Grey grinned, switching his attention from the costumes to the big brass telescope that Rayne was hurriedly setting up in front of the largest living room window. "This thing is ancient! There's no way this isn't some priceless antique or something!"

"Yes yes it's very cool and belonged to a former trade ship navigator about a hundred years ago don't ask how I know that I'm not sure either I understand why this weirds Coco out now, but that's not important!" Rayne wheezed, peering through the eyepiece and adjusting the focus before stepping away. "Look at the town."

Grey peeked through first, too excited about the telescope itself to wait much longer. He stared in silence for a good long moment, then frowned and stepped away to give Lillian room. "That's... You're right, that is weird. But I can't quite put my finger on why... I mean, aside from the architecture itself? But something else is bugging me..."

"It's hard to see detail from here even with the telescope, but I think some of them had glowing symbols decorating them?" Lillian said with a shrug after she had her turn. "They're pretty, and unusual for sure. Either magic or electricity, but I hope it's magic. That'd be cool!"

Crystal took her turn last, automatically touching her face to lift up the glasses that she no longer had to wear. She gave a soft laugh at finding her face naked, shook her head, and peered through the eyepiece.

The buildings were indeed strangely pretty, smooth white or silver constructs with colorful glass roofs, in sleek appealing shapes that more suited a science fiction setting rather than fantasy. Some had glowing symbols etched under arched windows or in rows along walls, but the light was dim and flickering, and it was impossible to tell from afar what shape the symbols had.

"The town has a uniform layout," Crystal said quietly, furrowing her brow. "It's a planned city. Wide roads on a grid, a perfectly arched wall surrounding the whole thing except where the harbor is. The tallest building is in the middle, might be a palace or castle? But... There's no people."

"Wait, what?!" Lillian exclaimed while Grey snapped his fingers in realization.

"That's it! Even though it's winter, there'd still be people moving around and working and stuff, right? But those roads are totally empty! No cars or wagons or pedestrians or nothing."

Crystal swung the telescope around, peering into the empty harbor, then past that toward the horizon where puffy white sails broke the barrier between sea and sky. "Ah, the ships... The city is really sleek and almost futuristic, but those ships are..."

Grey nudged Crystal aside to steal the eyepiece again, bouncing his leg with excitement. "Yo! Those are some real nice maritime vessels, my friends! Four-masted wooden masterpieces, and is that mizzenmast lateen-rigged? Squared raised stern, that's a nice prominent booty on those ships for sure. Those big boys are either carracks or galleons, or whatever they're called in this world. Whew, they're real beauties!"

"Was it an evacuation?" Lillian asked, concern coloring her voice, but Grey shook his head.

"Doubt it. The sails are torn and mended all over the place, and I think I see minor hull damage on the ones up close, but those lads are definitely pointed toward the town, and resting in a recognizable formation at that. They've been through a long journey to get here specifically, I think. In fact..." Grey swung the telescope, adjusting the focus as he went, searching to and fro until he spotted what he was looking for.

"They were further away when we first got here," Rayne said, holding up her fingers in a little pinching gesture. "The sails were like, this big on the horizon."

Grey nodded, then exclaimed aloud. "Aha! Found a pinnace! I dunno why it took them so long to approach, but they're moored in the deeps now, not sheltering in the harbor. And there, by the town wall! There's a little camp. Looks like... Ten people? They used a small pinnace boat to approach so it's probably a landing party scouting the area to see if it's safe to approach."

"I didn't see people! Let me see!" Rayne bumped Grey aside with her hip, stealing the telescope back. "There they are! Oh, they're still unloading the boat."

"It was still snowing pretty hard until like, today. They probably only just sent the team out." Grey said, and Rayne nodded in agreement.

"Looks like it. Hmm... Their clothes do look a little like our costumes, I think? They're tiny colorful blurs, but I think I see a couple people in cloaks, and possibly armor? Using our costumes is probably the best idea after all."

"But now things have gotten a bit more complicated," Crystal muttered, drumming her fingers on her bottom lip as thoughts tumbled around in her mind. "There's no permanent settlement yet. For some reason that city is empty, and we don't know why. The city looks more advanced than anything the people in wooden ships would be capable of making, no matter how nice the ships are, so they probably aren't the same civilization. If they have that many ships, are they colonizers? Are there natives to this land we need to worry about? How would they see us if we, as strangers who don't even speak their language, suddenly walked up while they're trying to settle an apparently empty foreign city?"

Grey and Lillian exchanged glances, while Rayne turned from the telescope and placed a hand on her hip. "Coco. Relax."

"How can I relax? If they're not friendly we're probably boned! They'll definitely come explore the forest for resources and they'll find us and-"

"Crystal!"

Crystal flinched as Rayne grabbed her by the shoulders and gave a gentle shake, bringing her back to her senses. She hadn't even realized she'd hunched over and started scratching at the delicate pale flesh of her arms, bright red tracks screaming their distress under her fingernails. She shivered, forcing her clawed hands to relax, and took a deep breath. "Ah... S-sorry, I... I just..."

"Does it feel dangerous?" Lillian asked, her voice calming Crystal's nerves with its serenity.

She thought a moment, then pressed her lips together and shook her head. "No. It doesn't feel dangerous. I'm just... Worried, I think. Anxious. There's so many unknowns..."

"If they're gonna find us anyway, let's go to them on our own terms," Grey said, giving Crystal's face a gentle tap with his knuckles. "Right? We readied the costumes anyway, and Rayne whittled us some fine walking sticks."

"I even polished them."

"See? She polished them, Coco."

"There was wood lacquer in the maintenance closet."

"Wood lacquer, Coco!"

"Alright, alright!" Crystal threw up her hands in defeat, struggling in vain to hide the growing smile on her face. "You win. Let's get dressed and go make first contact."

"The masks are mandatory!" Grey said, grabbing his off the living room table. "If we're gonna be a minstrel group we gotta look the part!"

"I finished the slings for your instruments, so you can carry the cases on your back under the cloaks. Should make it less of a strain to lug them through the snow." Lillian looked proud as she showed off the repurposed leather belts, carefully measured to fit each of them and evenly distribute the weight of the heavy cases across their torsos. "My kalimba is small enough to fit in a bag so I felt like this is the least I could do to help."

"You're so great Lils," Grey sighed, giving his twin a grateful hug.

"I'll go get the sticks," Rayne said, running upstairs.

Meanwhile, Crystal rolled her eyes and heaved a despondent sigh. "Man... I have to wear actual clothes again..."

"It's too cold to be a nudist, Coco."

"I'm not a nudist, I'm just texture sensitive!"

"You'd be a nudist if it was socially acceptable."

"Eh... Debatable. I'm kinda lumpy."

"No you're just soft and huggable."

"Which makes me lumpy. Oh well, at least the costume materials feel nice." Crystal sighed once more, grabbing her outfit off the living room table. "Alright, everyone turn off their vision for a second."

"We have all seen you naked, Crystal."

"We all took turns washing your back when you went through physical therapy, Crystal."

"Also this is the living room."

"Nudist."

"Exhibitionist."

"Can't hear you guys I'm already naked!" Crystal stuck out her tongue as, contrary to her statement, she headed down the hallway toward the bathroom in order to change in privacy.

"Who's naked?" Rayne called down the stairs, accompanied by the thumping sound of four walking sticks repeatedly hitting the banister as she descended.

"Everyone except you!" Grey called back, his voice muffled as he pulled the blouse over his head.

"I had to get the sticks, no one told me we were having a nudey party!"

"Nudey parties are better fun with guests that aren't basically your relatives," Lillian grumbled, and Rayne nodded as she dumped the walking sticks on the nearest sofa.

"Eh, true. No offense, you guys are our unofficial adopted siblings."

"No no, it's mutual. You both are our sisters, seeing you lot naked does not rustle my jimmies in the slightest."

"Completely unrustled?"

"Not even a jostle."

"Damn."

"Wait, why are we unofficially adopted? There's no birth records in this world for us. We can just be siblings and no one will ever be able to prove otherwise."

"Shit, you're right! Okay, you're all adopted by me now. You can call me Mama."

"Like hell we will, you're the youngest!"

"Respect your elders, young man!"

Crystal laughed to herself as their voices echoed faintly through the closed bathroom door, then focused on getting dressed. Her costume was modified further thanks to a personal request she'd made, adding a long black wrap skirt that went to her ankles to be worn over the leggings. She also added a silver sash around the waist and under the belt, made using one of the spare bedsheets.

She didn't mind pants so long as the material was nice, but she preferred the swish of long skirts and dresses because it felt more fun, and if she had to wear clothes anyway they might as well be layered and interesting. Just so long as the inner layer actually touching her body was a nice comfortable fabric!

Lillian made the skirt match the rest of the outfit using bead tape and braided fabric, and liked the resulting skirt so much she added a shorter skirt and some frilly modifications to her own outfit. Then Grey wanted some fancy embellishments and dangling cloth bits to look more dramatic, so in the end only Rayne kept the original design.

"We look amazing," Grey said with a delighted sigh as everyone gathered together in the living room once more to don their masks.

"Are the masks really necessary?" Lillian mumbled as she tugged on the gossamer veil, causing the beaded decorations woven into the fine material to jingle and shimmer. "I mean... What if not being able to see our faces scares them, or makes them suspicious?"

"Then we can take them off?" Grey said with a shrug, slinging the shoulder strap of his instrument case over his arm before settling his cloak. "But I think it adds to our mystique as wandering minstrels, and we look fantastic rather than threatening. Plus, they're the ones landing near our house, right? We're the ones living here. For all they could know, it's culturally inappropriate to walk around with naked faces!"

"We'll have to get pretty close to know for sure," Crystal said. After a moment's thought, she took out her hairclip and left it on the coffee table, allowing her long blonde hair to tumble free in the brief moment before she put up her hood. She'd spent enough time in cold climates to know long hair was best left protecting one's neck from cold air. "We'll watch their body language as we approach. If they seem hostile, we'll back off. In the meantime, we should bring some food. It's a long hike."

Everyone agreed, filing into the kitchen to pack snacks and sandwiches into their bags. Crystal tucked a few jars of preserves into hers, bringing only those and a couple sandwiches instead of cramming the space with small packs of miniature cookies and potato chips like everyone else. Her choice of foodstuff went unnoticed, since everyone else was busy playing Tetris trying to fit their chosen assortment of snacks into relatively small bags.

Once everyone felt prepared enough for their journey, they took a moment to brace themselves, each grabbing a homemade walking stick, then stepped out of the house into the snow.

#writing #chapter #original #original story #masquerade #fantasy #isekai

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