#just meet a lot of people who have never seen/heard certain common words and therefore spell/pronounce them incorrectly

[heywriters]

Simple self-education for writers on one small aspect of writing:

read books that have been to a professional editor (or two, or three) in their lifetime so you can see how words are spelled

see a word you don't know how to say out loud? find a video where a human (not a bot/AI; preferably in your dialect) says it out loud

try using it in your speech and your writing! get familiar with new words! an expanded vocabulary has many uses in society and in creative endeavors.

#vocabulary #writing #not meant to be condescending btw #just meet a lot of people who have never seen/heard certain common words and therefore spell/pronounce them incorrectly #myself included

[strangerontheotherside84]

Live Wire Part 2 (Billy Hargrove x Reader)

Disclamer: okay so this is part 2 and I’m actually considering to continue this story a bit more. let me know what you think.

Warnings: swearing, 18+, smut, underage drinking, cheating

tagged: @winter-captain-01

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Billy’s POV

„Hello? Is anybody home?“

Actually Billy would have prefered to stay in the car and not have another meet-the-parents-experience but since Vicki didn’t come outside at 8 like she said she would, he had had no other choice than to go looking for her. She was propably busy doing her hair again.

He was already heading towards Vicki’s room as he heard loud banging noises coming from the basement. He followed the sound, quickly making his way down the wodden stairs. What he then saw was more than he could have ever excpected.

Y/n was sitting behind a drumset playing along to Mötley Crüe’s „Live Wire“. She was brutally hitting the drums, making it hard to hear the actual record which was playing over the speakers, while mouthing the words or maybe even singing along. Her y/h/c hair was falling in her face. Billy stood in silence, watching her for a while until she finally moved her head towards the stairs, meeting his gaze, which caused her to stop playing immediately.

„Wrong floor, thought you’d knew that by now.“, were the words she greeted him with as she got up and turned down the stereo behind her, barely bothering to look at him. „Vicki isn’t here.“

„Where is she then?“ „I don’t know and I don’t care.“ „She told me to pick her up at 8.“ „Well sorry bout that. But I hope you can understand that my compassion is limited to a minimum in this case. It was you who chose to voluntary spend time with her after all.“, y/n scoffed as she walked over to a trunk in the back of the room and bent over to grab a can of beer out of it. She was wearing a pair of red gym shorts that barely covered her ass, making it very hard for Billy not to stare at her. „So you’re not going to Tina’s party, huh?“, he changed the topic while leaning over the banister he was firmly grabbing onto with both of his hands, licking over his lips. „I never do.“, still no eye-contact. „And why’s that?“ „I don’t get invited and other than that I have better things to do.“

„Yeah I can see that.“ Billy noted with a smirk as he precisely watched y/n take a seat behind the drumset again, running her fingers through the messy hair that was sticking to her face. Cheeks flustered. One could only imagine how she would look like in other sweat-inducing activties, “Hey, how abou-?“

„Billy! What are you doing down here?“, Vicki’s voice suddenly interrupted him, „I’ve been waiting for you in my room! Hurry up! We’re going to be late for the party!“.

Billy rolled his eyes before walking up the stairs, pushing past her to make his way to the car. Vicki stopped him by grabbing his arm and basically throwing herself at the curly haired boy. „I missed you so much. Such a shame that you didn’t come upstairs right away.“

„Get a room! And please not this one. I haven’t got that many left to choose from.“, y/n groaned from downstairs.

Reader POV:

Before finally leaving the basement Vicki turned her attention towards you with an annoyed look on her face, „Also, calm down with the the drumming, freak! You’re not Nikki Lee.“

„It’s Tommy.“, you corrected her with a sigh. „Whatever. You’re neither of them. Just a sad loser that spends her friday nights in her parents basement.“, Vicki snapped at you before turning on her heels and walking away with a satisfied smirk.

Wow, what a burn. Wonder how long it took her to come up with that one. „Better than some dumb bitch who’s highlight of the week it is to show off her new boytoy to a bunch of boring Highschool kids.“ you muttered under your breath while picking up your sticks again, quickly spinning one of them between your fingers.

„What was that?“ „Nothing. Have fun at the party!“, you chirped sarcastically before turning towards Billy once again, “Do me a favor and try not to fuck out whatever is left of her brains.“

Vicki opened her mouth to protest but you had already turned the stereo back up, while smashing the snare and stomping your foot on the base-drum to the rhythm of „Take Me To The Top“, while sticking your tongue out at her.

From of the corner of your eye you could see Billy laughing to himself which earned him a deadly stare from Vicki before she grabbed his arm and dragged him out of the room.

-

I want you, I need you I want you to be mine tonight You need me, you tease me Use you up, throw you away

You’re fire, taking me higher Don’t burn me, don’t let me down You need me now, I’ll teach you how Come on, let’s go all the way

You were lying on the couch in your parents basement, spinning your drumstick between your fingers while listening to the stereo. Okay maybe you had to admit that playing the same Mötley Crüe record over and over again while drinking by yourself wasn’t the best friday night you ever had. But at least you had finally been able to play the drums again without any of your family members complaining. Your parents were out of town, visiting some friends and you weren’t sure when Vicki and Billy would return from the party. Maybe they already did.

"Y/n?”,the husky voice coming from the top of the stairs made you jump a little,causing you to drop the drumstick to the ground, before you quickly sat up.

“Did I scare you?”

“Nothing scares me.”

„What are you still doing down here?“

„Well I live here, what’s your excuse?.“ you greeted Billy who was slowly making his way down the stairs, “Did Vicki kick you out?“

„No, she’s just completely shitfaced and fell asleep right away.“ „Well damn, all that stupid partying for nothing.“ you scoffed.

“Are you always this-?”

“Amazing?”

“Snarky.”

“Absolutely!”

Your last comment caused Billy to laugh and shake his head as he sat down on the couch next to you, „So y/n what are you doing down here? I thought you had a room.“ „I do but the walls are thin as paper and let’s just say… Vicki and I have an agreement about that.“ „An agreement?“ „Yeah. I stay down here whenever she’s busy faking orgasms or she’ll tell our parents that I went to a Mötley Crüe gig in Chicago last summer without them knowing, hide booze down here and get send to detention a lot more often than they think I do.“

„That’s pretty harsh.“ Billy muttered. It was only now that you realized he wasn’t wearing a shirt underneath his leather jacket and caught yourself staring at his chest a little bit too long. Luckily Billy hadn’t realized that, or at least pretended not to, as he simply continued the conversation by adding,“If the stuff she does really is faking it I wouldn’t wanna know how boring the real deal is to be honest.“, under his breath.

Wow did he really just? Okay somebody clearly wasn’t sober. But if Billy’s drunk-persona consistet of him talking shit about Vicki you might actually could stand his presence just a bit longer.

“Well you know, Vicki always gets what she wants. And as long as it makes our little princess happy it will be my pleasure to give her the illsuion that I don’t exist from time to time.”, you explained sarcastically while making a dramatic gesture with your hand, ”Especially if this adds a little sense of purpose to her dull life.”

Billy chuckled as he ran his hand across his face, moving his messy curls to the side, “Well she should be happy to have a sister that’s got the balls to sneak out of the house to go see Mötley Crüe. That’s pretty impressive if you ask me.”

“That wasn’t even the most impressive thing I did that night to be honest.”, you chuckled.

“It that so?”, Billy replied with a smirk.

“It is.”

“Well guess I chose the wrong sister to hang out with.”

“Oh don’t worry everybody does.”, you replied dry causing Billy to laugh again.

You had to admit that he wasn’t as much of a jerk as you had thought at first. However, this assumption had been strongly influenced by the fact that he was with Vicki the first time you met him. You had never seen him laugh with her and therefore just assumed that he was some sort of a buzzkill.

Still, you just couldn’t seem to get a certain thought out of your mind. It had been sitting in the back of your head for quite a while now and basically shifted into this big question mark burning in your brain within the last few days.

„Can I ask you something?“, you finally brought it up. Lowering your voice as if there were people watching you. „Sure. Go ahead.“, the curly haired boy replied in his low, husky voice while resting his left arm right next to you on the back of the couch, moving a bit closer towards you. His icy blue eyes almost seemed to be glued to your face with anticipation.

„So don’t get me wrong it’s pretty obvious that a guy like you would go for the hot cheerleader type of girl. But Vicki is just…Vicki is one of the most boring and shallow people I know, all of her friends are idiots and she isn’t even particulary nice to you. She just likes to show you off.“

You raised your eyes to check if you had somehow rubbed Billy the wrong way. It was his girlfriend you were talking about after all. But he didn’t seem to care too much about your words and more about what else you’d might have to say.

„You however,“ you continued,“You actually seem kinda cool. At least from what I can tell. And most definitely compared to the jocks she usually brings home.“

„So you’re trying to tell me I’m too badass for your sister?“ „No. Well yes. But what I’m actually trying to say is… you guys have absolutely nothing in common and yes she’s hot and popular but you could have also screwed and never called her again. Yet you chose to date her. Why?“

„What why?“ „Why do you like my sister?“, your voice was barely a whisper.

„I never said I liked her.“ Billy hummed, eyes still fixed to yours with a piercing stare. „Then why do you still come here every other day?“ „Maybe I do because I wanna see somebody else. Someone who actually is badass and nice-“

There was barely an inch left between your faces and before your brain could fully comprehend what he’d just said, Billy had already pressed his lips onto yours, brushing his fingers across your cheek and burying them in your hair. The kiss was soft at first but quickly grew more passionate as you leaned in aswell.

A soft gasp escaped your lips as he quickly grabbed your hips and pulled you onto his lap, making sure not to break the kiss.

„You think I never realized the way you parade around the house whenever I was here?“ Billy muttered in a low tone while trailing kisses down your neck, “How good your ass looks in those shorts and the way your nipples always peek through your shirt? I couldn’t keep my eyes off you since I first saw you y/n.“ He buried his teeth into your skin right above your collar bone as he grabbed your ass with both hands and slapped it quickly afterwards, causing you to hiss with pleasure, „Whenever I got home I always couldn’t stop thinking about all the things I’d like to do to you.“

He placed another sharp slap on your ass.

„You like that?“

„Yes.“ you hummed before cupping his face and kissing him again while running your fingers through his messy curls. Billy immediately responded by playfully biting your lower lip.

You quickly moved back for a split second only to remove your shirt and throw it to the corner of the room. Billy licked across his lips as he ran his hands over your bare chest before finally getting rid of his leather jacket and pulling you closer again. Your kisses grew messier with each second, both of you wanting more. The curly haired boy hissed as you buried your teeth into his lip until you could taste blood.

With one of his hands still grabbing your ass he quickly moved your shorts to the side with the other, a dirty grin flashing across his face at the realization that you weren’t wearing any panties. He moved his thumb across your clit before pushing one of his fingers inside you, curling it almost painfully slow. His actions caused you to whimper into his mouth. “Jesus, y/n who got you this wet?”

Billy quickly unbuckled his belt and slid down his jeans just enough for his errection to spring free, before pushing you off his lap and onto the couch. „Good that I didn’t get to use this earlier, right?“ he muttered with a cocky grin on his face as he took a condom from the pocket of his jeans before taking them off completely. You quickly folowed his example, stripping out of your shorts while Billy was putting the condom over his throbbing cock.

Within a heartbeat he was on top of you again, his tongue playfully teasing yours as he forcfully grabbed your hip with one hand and softly choked you with the other.

You gasped with excitement as he finally pushed inside of you, almost immediately slamming his hips into yours at an unforgiving pace, making it almost impossible for you to keep quiet.

„Come on y/n, don’t hold back. Show me how much you enjoy this.“, his hot breath brushed against your ear, making you shiver.

„Fuck, you feel so good.“,you moaned loudly, very thankful for the fact that the stereo was still blasting music.

„You’re such a dirty girl. Fucking your sisters boyfriend while she’s sleeping upstairs.“ The curly haired boy growled.

„Fuck yes! Tell me I’m better than her.“ you managed to gasp in between moaning and whimpering. Your whole body was shaking and you had the feeling that Billy was making you see stars.

„She’s got nothing on you. Don’t act like you don’t know that.“,he hummed while making eye contact with you. The dirty blonde curls were sticking to his face and his pupils almost completely swallowed the blue of his eyes. Billy moved his head back down to kiss you, his tongue teasing you painfully slow while he pulled out of you, only to thrust back into you seconds later. He sped up his pace once again, chocking you as you buried your fingernails into his back.

„Fuck. Don’t stop! I’m gonna-“, you couldn’t even finish your sentence before your orgasm rushed over you, your whole body twitching and tightening underneath Billy’s weight. The curly haired boy hissed at the sensation quickly reaching his high aswell, his back muscles tightening as he buried his teeth in your neck one final time.

„That was fun, drummer girl.“, he gasped with a grin, breathing heavily, before slowly getting up and grabbing his jeans from the floor.

#billy hargrove #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove smut #billy hargrove imagine #billy hargrove x y/n #billy hargrove x you #stranger things imagine #vicki carmichael #live wire part 2

[mrsfrecklesmarauders]

First Impressions

Summary: The Marauders meet in the train and get sorted into Gryffindor

REMUS P.O.V After that night my life changed forever. The night I was bitten. I don't quite remember much about my life before. But I know for sure my parents were happier. They support me I know. But I can see how my mum suffers and how my dad secretly hates who I am. He knew the Wizarding World better. Dad wanted me to avoid any discrimination. He told me they might lock me up at the Ministry. Therefore I couldn't go out to play, make any friends. Basically stay at home the most time possible. It was only the three of us who knew that secret. My dad made sure nobody else knew.

I had accepted Hogwarts wasn't a possibility for me. Dad didn't like talking about it. He said there was no use talking about Hogwarts if I wasn't going. So he taught me some spells and magic from an early age. But when I turned 11, the most funny thing happened. A man with a long silver beard who wore a tunic and pointy hat, came to visit us one day. He talked with my parents first. I heard them argue. And then the man talked to me.

"Hello Remus" he said smiling "Hello" I said looking at him strangely "I don't mean to be rude, but who are you?" The man smiled "My name is Albus Dumbledore. Headmaster of Hogwarts" I thought he was gonna tell me I wasn't able to go. I had it coming. But he took a letter from his pocket. It had my name. "Here is your letter" he said giving it to me "Inside you will find the instructions on how to get there and what to buy" "To go where?" I asked "To Hogwarts. The school of Witchcraf and Wizardry" he answered paciently "You would like to go, don't you?" Of course I wanted. But I couldn't. I looked at my parents. Mom had tears on her eyes, but she was smiling at me. Dad had an unreadable expression. "I can't sir" I said looking down "Why is that?" "Because I'm..." I looked at my father again. He nodded "I'm a werewolf" It was the first time I said it out loud. Normaly that word was forbidden at home. "So?" he asked like he knew. Like it was the most normal thing in the world. "I'm a monster" I answered "I could hurt someone" "You won't. We have all the measurements to avoid that to happen Remus. I explained everything to your father" I looked at my dad. He didn't seem happy. "Leave everything to me" he continued "The only question is, would you like to go?" I looked at my parents again. Was this safe? Could I? "You can go sweety" my mother said Dumbledore looked at me intensly. "Yes" I said very quiet "Yes" I repeated more loudly "I would like to go" "Then it's settled" he said smiling "I'll see you on September first Remus"

For the next few days my father was really in a bad mood. He and mom fought a lot. The reason? Me going or not going to Hogwarts. My dad didn't want me to, he said it was dangerous, my mom disagreed. I was tired of being locked up. And I was going, even if they wanted it or not. Mr. Dumbledore said it was safe, didn't he? So my mother took me to buy my school tools. "I'm taking your son to buy what he needs" she said Dad didn't answer. "You have to accept it Lyall and let him grow. He deserves to have a normal life" Mum always supported dad, he knew best about the magical world. But she sounded really angry. Dad didn't respond but directed my mum on how to get there.

I bought my supplies without any complication. Mom said I could get anything, that I shouldn't worry about money. And on September first, I couldn't hide my excitement. "Remus" my dad said waiting for me on the kitchen. "Say goodbye to your mum. I'm taking you to King Cross"

We drove there on a muggle car. Dad said he wanted to talk to me. The first minutes were very silent. I just felt very nervous. "Are you exicted?" my dad finally asked I nodded "And very nervous" He smiled "That is normal. I felt the same way on my first day" I smiled at that "You'll love it though" he said "Hogwarts is the most wonderful place on earth. A big castle. It has a lake and a forest. You can visit the local town Hogsmade. Believe me son. It is beautiful" I got more and more excited. Suddenly my nerves stopped. My dad usually didn't talk about Hogwarts. But I was enjoying how excited he sounded about that place. "What house were you in?" I asked "I was in Ravenclaw" he answered smiling

When we got to King Cross my heart was beating fast. I couldn't wait to see Hogwarts. When we got to Platform 9 & 3/4, I saw the Hogwarts Express. I couldn't be more happier. All of these was real. I almost run into the crowd when my dad stopped me. "Remus" he said. He had tears on his eyes. "I'm gonna miss you. You just be careful okay? And don't let..." "Anyone know about me" I finished "I know dad. Don't worry" My dad hugged me, really tight. "I'm glad you can go" he whispered into my ear. I had tears on my eyes. I was gonna miss my parents so much. They were everyone I knew. My only friends. "I love you dad" And I left very happy. I pushed myself into the crowd and I gazed at my father one last time.

The Platform was crowded with people yelling, saying goodbye, crying. But a certain boy got my attention. He had the most ridiculous hair I've ever seen. It looked like a big net. His mother was trying to contain his messy hair. "James Fleamont Potter" the woman said "this happens when you use magic on your father's hair potion" "Well I looked ridiculous with it" the boy protested "You look ridiculous now" she said trying to use her wand to fix it. Each time it got bigger. "Oi mum" he said avoiding her touch "People are watching". I couldn't avoid laughing. Not only for his hair, and his name Fleamont, but because I'd never been around boys my age. And I was happy. They were just like me. But the boy noticed me. Too late. "What are you laughing at freak?" he asked annoyed "Nothing" I said going red "James..." his mother warned "He was laughing at us" She smiled at me apologizing. I left before getting into a mess. Remember Remus, you can't make friends. It would make everything complicated. Well as things were going I didn't think I could get a friend any time soon. And as I thought that, I stepped into the train.

SIRIUS P.O.V Blah, blah, blah. I couldn't pay attention to my mother anymore. She spoke some nonsense about how I needed to be a good Black, live up to the family name, and how I should get into Slytherin. Befriend all the children of the 'good families', pureblood families. All I wanted was to get into adventures, do as I please without my parents punishing me. I was just smiling at Reggie. He cried the night before because he didn't want me to leave him alone. I had to make sure he knew I was safe, Hogwarts would be amazing and he could join me next year. Suddenly my mother pulled my ear like she used to. It hurt like it used to. "Aaargg" I protested "Are you listening you little prat?" she whispered in my ear. The thing is that when people were around she acted like a loving caring mother. But she wasn't. "You shall act properly and not do any stupid thing. If I get one letter complaining about your behaivor..." She pressed her fingers press into my ear, making it hurt even more. "You will see child" she continued. She let go off me. My ear was red "Have a good year sweetheart" she said smiling evily. I sighed "Goodbye Reggie" I said as I tried to embrace him. He opened his arms but my mother stopped him. "Go, or you will be late child" she said

So I left wondering into the crowd. I was relieved to be apart from my parents, but I already missed Reggie. I was distracted thinking all that when I bumped into someone. "Oi watch it asshole!" he yelled I looked at him and the first thing I noticed about that boy, was his hair. It look like a net. Bunches of hair pointed everywhere. "Ha" I said as he picked his suitcase from the floor. "What?" he said pissed off. "Nothing" "Watch where you are going, looser" he said "Sorry" I said looking amused at his hair "What happened to your hair?" "Are you making fun of my hair? "No. I think is cool" I said wondering what my mother would say if I had a hair like that. "Bloody asshole. I know you are laughing" he said, then he smiled "Bad experiment with my dad's potion. He made a famous hair potion, you know?" "Oh bloody hell" I said surprised "Are you a Potter?" My mother had told me the bloodtraitor Potters. She said I should befriend the purebloods, didn't she? Well, watch me mother. "You have a problem with that?" "No" I said amused "You are now my best friend. Fancy finding a compartment for the two of us?" The Boy looked at me for a while. "Wicked" he said As we started walking he spoke. "I'm James by the way" "Sirius" I said "Sirius Black"

Turned out James and I had too many things in common. We were both rebels. He told me about all the best pranks he had done. I told him mine. We agreed to make some mischief at Hogwarts. "So tell me Sirius" he asked me "You like Quidditch, right? Because if you don't I'll have to kill you and get another friend" I laughed at that "I'm serious" he said "No, I'm Sirius" I joked. He laughed. "But yeah I love Quidditch. But I haven't played it before" "What??" James was very shocked "My parents don't like it when I play" Or I do anything. "My dad was right" he said "The Blacks are weird... Oh, no offense" I smiled "You're right" I said "They are kind of weird" If only he knew...

Somebody entered the compartment. A ginger girl was there. "Hi" she said "Can I seat here?" She was crying James raised his shoulders. And I gestured her to enter. She came in. We looked at her puzzled but she ignored us looking at the window. A boy with a very greasy hair came in a few minutes later. He looked at us with disgust. "Honestly. I thought it would be only us on the compartment" James whispered to me I nodded. "Did you see that kid's hair?" I asked him. We both giggled. It was greasy and stuck to his face. Ten times worse than James'. The kids talked about some Petunia girl, but honestly I tried to ignored them. James and I kept eating sweets from the trolley he had bought and taking about Quidditch.

"Who wants to be in Slytherin?" said James out of the sudden. Apparently he was paying attention to their conversation. "I think I'd leave, wouldn't you?" he asked me. Shit. Slytherin. Everything my family wanted was for me to be in Slytherin. They would kill me if I didn't get there. But James seemed like a nice lad, I didn't want to lose him. "My whole family had been in Slytherin" "Blimey" he said "And I thought you seemed all right" I was! I was better than my family. "Maybe I'll brake the tradition" I said. I really wanted to. "Where are you heading, if you've got the choice?" Maybe I wanted to be in the same house as James. "Gryffindor, where dwell the brave at heart, like my father" he said lifting an invisible sword. The boy across them made a disgusting sound. "Got a problem with that?" James asked him "No" the boy answered "If you'd rather be brawny than brainy" What was this kid's problem? I needed to defend my new friend. "Where're you hoping to go, seeing as you're neither?" I said James laughed at that and I smiled. The girl stood up and looked at us in dislike. "Come on Severus, let's find another compartment" "Oooo..." we imitated her. She was very annoying. "See ya, Snivellus!" I said as we laughed. "Nice one mate" said James "You are funny" "Tell me about it" I said smiling

We talked a bit more for a while. When two boys entered. "Can we sit here?" a chubby boy with blond hair asked. "We were kicked out of the other compartment. Two older students wanted to snog" he made a disgusting expression. As the next boy came in James groaned. "You again?" he asked to the skinny boy with sandy hair and a big sweater. He had a few scars on his face. I thought that was interesting. He looked cool. "You know him?" I asked. "He made fun of me and my mum at the platform" James protested "I didn't" the boy said. "Whatever you say weirdo" said James The boys came in. But James and I tried to ignore them. The chubby boy who introduced himself as Peter talked a lot. I mean like a lot. James glanced at me annoyed by him. I smiled. The other boy who's name was Remus sat very quietly reading a book. In no time, the train stopped. "Holy sweetbeans!" said Peter looking through the window "We are here, we are at Hogwarts!" My heart dropped into my chest. Finally I was home. If only Reggie could be here.

JAMES P.O.V Blimey! I was at Hogwarts. It was even more impressive than my dad had told me. I could see the big castle from the station and I smiled. I really needed glasses though, the castle looked blurry but beautiful. Anyway, all the adventures and mischief I could get into. And the thing I was most excited about, Quidditch. I was going to become a professional Player, so I needed to get on the team. Besides I had my new friend Sirius. Dad had told me bad things about the Blacks, but he was different. I had so much fun with him in a few hours, than any other of my friends.

"Firs' years, firs' years these way" I could see the biggest man I've ever met. A few children gasped when they saw him. "Me name's Rubeus Hagrid, keeper o' keys an' grounds at Hogwarts. Follow me, I'll take ya to the castle" "Wicked" I said. I looked at Sirius who seemed very nervous. But he hided it smiling at me.

Hagrid took us to the side of the lake where little boats were waiting for us. The chubby boy wanted to be near us. What an annoying lad. He thought just talking to us made him our friend. He was wrong.

I watched the boy Snivellus and the whining ginger girl get into a boat. I smiled to myself. "Got an idea" I said to Sirius "I think Snivellus needs a hair wash. Don't you think?" Sirius smirked. He knew what I was thinking about. "Leave it to me" he said "But cover me" he took out his wand and I put myself in front of him. As I did I saw the weird kid from the train looking at us in suspicion. "What are you staring at, looney?" I asked. First he made fun of me and my mum and now he was planning to snitch on us. Lucikly he just looked the other way. Sirius said something under his breath moving his wand. Suddenly the first boat turned around and all the kids inside fell into the water.

Everyone laughed. "Good one" I said to Sirius shaking his hand. "Blimey!" said Hagrid who went to save the kids. He helped them to get to the boat again. They were shivering and coughing. Snivellus looked at us like he knew what we did. "What is so funny?" he asked "What Snivellus? You didn't enjoy your swim?" asked Sirius smirking. I laughed. I was having too much fun already. "Yeah" now said the chubby boy "I-I-I think you scared the giant squid" he said Sirius and I laughed even harder. The boy looked pleased to himself. And in the corner of my eye I saw the looney kid rolling his eyes. "At least I don't have a nest for a hair" Snivellus said shivering. Honestly, it had been a mistake. I wanted to make my hair look cool. "Well I can just fix it with shampoo, do you know what that is? I think you don't" I said. Nailed it. All the kids laughed at my comment. "A'right" said Hagrid "Enough o' that. If ya keep fightin' I'll have ter tell Dumbledore"

As we got into the castle. I got more exicted. Hogwarts was amazing. Even from inside. Me and Sirius pointed everywhere smirking. "Welcome children" said a very tall woman "I'm Professor McGonagall and oh..." she stopped looking at the kids that were wet and shivering. "What in name of Godric Gryffindor happened to you?" "Th-the b-boat t-turned by it-tself!" said a boy I smiled to myself. McGonagall looked shocked. "It's not true!" said the girl from the train "It was bewitched. By them" she pointed at us. "What?" I asked "It's true" said Snivellus. Bloody Snivellus. "I saw them" "How can you say it was us?" said Sirius "We didn't do anything" "Yeah, we didn't" I protested but I was worried watching at the chubby boy and the looney. They saw us. But surprisely they didn't say anything. "Oh please, you laughed" said the ginger girl. Honestly how annoying was she. "Beacuse it was funny" I answered "Or because it was your idea" she said "We are 11 year olds, we don't know any spell" "Maybe you do, you're purebloods" "How do you know that?" "I don't, I'm just guessing"

"Enough!" yelled Professor McGonagall "Don't worry Miss. eh..." "Evans" "Miss Evans" she continued "We will find out the responsables" she glared at Sirius and me through her glasses "In the meantime, you will be sorted in one of the four houses: Gryffindor" I smirked "Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, and Slytherin" I made a disgusting sound. The chubby boy laughed. "Follow me" said the Professor ignoring me.

All the fun I had had with Sirius made me forget about the Sorting and suddenly I was nervous. But I tried to hide it. But my friend looked paler. "Don't worry about it" I said "I'm sure we will get into Gryffindor" "How are so sure about it?" he asked I wasn't "I just am. I'm confident. And... We will make amazing pranks mostly every day" I said smiling. Sirius smiled back. "BLACK, SIRIUS" Mcgonagall yelled. Sirius sat and the hat was placed on him. Please be a Gryffindor. Sirius was so cool. I couldn't stand him being in another house. Finally the hat yelled 'GRYFFINDOR!' There was no clapping or cheering, just pure silence. I saw the Slytherin table. Everyone was shocked or angry. I decided to be the first to clap. Then everyone followed me. Everyone except the Slytherins. As Sirius passed to the table I smiled at him and we hit palms. He was pale. Why? He was in Gryffindor. Many names passed. Evans, the ginger girl got into Gryffindor as well. I could see Snivellus pale expression. "I guess not even your girlfriend stands Slytherin or you" I told him. "Shut up" he responded Few other names passed. I was getting more and more anxious. The looney boy also got into Gryffindor. Really? "Seriously they let anyone in" I commented. The chubby boy laughed awkardly. By the time he got into Gryffindor as well I lost my pacience. Honestly if Snivellus got into my house as well I was gonna get mad. Finally Mcgonagall called my name. As I walked toward the chair, I got a weird sensation. What if I didn't get into Gryffindor? What if I got into Hufflepuff, or Ravenclaw or worse Slytherin? People like Evans, or the looney kid or the chubby one could get into Gryffindor but not me? I sat down as my heart beated fast. But the hat nearly touched my head when it yelled 'GRYFFINDOR'. And I smiled like a maniac. "Yes!"

PETER P.O.V I really liked Remus. He was the first person I talked to. And he had been so nice. Then I met James and Sirius. Being their friend would be incredible. And they didn't like Remus. At least James didn't. But they were my dormmates now. And Remus was nowhere to be seen. Maybe he decided Hogwarts was too much for him and decided to leave? I tried not to think too much about it.

James and Sirius were chatting on James' new bed. I decided to join them. "...and honestly did you hear? That Evans girl was going to give us away. What a prig. Maybe we should prank her as well" James was saying "Yeah I know" responded Sirius "Oi, do you think she and Snivellus are dating?" he asked smirking "Argg, disgusting mate" James said and Sirius laughed "Although they would make a great couple, you know? Annoying one and annoying two" Sirius smirked. "Who? The ginger girl?" I asked "Oh she is pretty, right?" They both looked at me. "Speaking of annoying" James whispered to Sirius. Then he looked at me smiling "Mate" he said "What was your name again?" I blushed. "Peter" "Peter" said Sirius "There's your bed. Why don't go to organize your things or something?" James tried to hide his laughter. Oh boy, being friends with them was going to be way more difficult than I thought. "Okay" I said standing up and going to my bed. The boys continued chatting. Suddenly Remus got into the dorm. And everyone looked at him. I smiled. "Hi" I said coming towards him He smiled at me. "Where were you?" I asked "Everyone picked up a bed already. There's yours" I said pointing at the one near the door. "Any bed is fine" he answered smiling. "I was taking to Dumbledore" I stopped listening, looking at his scars. I wanted to ask him what were those for. I've never watched a kid like that before. But I didn't dare to. "So, Looney" said James to Remus "Don't mind me asking, how did you get those scars?" I was shocked at his question. And I admired his confidence. Why couldn't I be like that? Remus looked pale. He didn't answer. "I think those are cool" Sirius said smirking "You're like a rebel. Did you get into fighting on the street?" "He looks like a pirate" I said smiling "Wicked" "Like a what?" Sirius asked. I forgot he was a pureblood. Before I could respond, James spoke. "So? Looney? Are you gonna answer?" Remus sighed. He probably had been asked that many times before. "I fell of my bike, when I was little" he said James and Sirius looked at each other. "What's a bike?" they asked at the same time. I laughed at that. Remus and I smiled at each other. We were the only ones who knew about the muggle world. Remus rolled his eyes and went to his bed closing the curtains.

The next weeks passed too quickly. And I tried to befriend James and Sirius. But they seemed to ignore me. And Remus was trying to ignore them. Hiding in his books. I wish I could tell you Remus and I became best friends. I really liked him, and we talked now and then. But I honestly prefered being with the other boys. They seemed like they had fun. So one day at Potions I overheard them speaking about their next prank. They were planning on painting the slytherins hair pink. "Sounds great" I said "I could help" "Honestly" James said "Who is taking to you?" I ignored him. "Maybe I could be the distraction. You know how much I love to talk" "Or maybe you can shut up" James said a little too loud. "Boys" Professor Slughorn said "Eyes on your potion" "Maybe he's right" whispered Sirius "we do need a distraction, to get the ingredients for the potion" I smiled to Sirius. "Have you gone mad Black?" James asked "Potter! Just imagine our sweet Snivellus with greasy pink hair. He'd be a sensation" We looked at Snivellus sitting two tables away. James smiled. "Fine" he said "But if you spoil this Pettigrew, we'll never speak to you again" "Thank you!" I said. Professor Slughorn glanced at me so I lowered my voice "I promise I won't dissapoint you. I think we are going to have so much fun and then we could..." "Hush" said Sirius And I stopped talking but I was smiling.

The prank was a success. We got detention. But it was worthy. I was part of the group. I felt bad for Remus though, he was lonely. Always reading some book or something. I could tell the boys to include him, but I was scared of losing them. It wasn't until Professor McGonagall paired us up together, that I spoke to him.

"It feel like ages since we've talked" I said to him. "Because now you hang out with your new friends" he said looking at James and Sirius. "I'm sorry I..." "It's fine Pete" he said smiling "I'm not good at friendships anyway" "Why?" I asked him He didn't answer. "Besides, I don't know why you like them. There are both idiots" "They are actually not. They are cool" "Pete, they treat you like shit" I didn't answer. I didn't know what to say. Partially it was true. But I like being around them. I felt powerful.

It wasn't until the end of October that something changed. We were gathered in our dorm. Planning the next prank for Halloween. Dancing skeletons to be placed on each table. "You want some sweets?" I asked Remus who was sitting on his bed reading a book. He looked oddly sick. He said no and continued to ignore us. "I told you he is weird" James whispered. Sirius looked at Remus curiously. "Anyway let's continue" said James "What spell do we know that would make them move?" "Tarantallegra" I suggested "No but we need them to do what we want them to" We all thought for a while. Until Remus sighed "The Locomotion Charm" he said. "Who asked you, Looney?" said James "Wait shh James" said Sirius "What did you say?" Remus sighed again "You can control them with that one" "We could use that one" Sirius suggested to James "What?" James asked But Sirius ignored him at looked at Remus "Can you teach us? We could get you some chocolate or something" Remus was silent for a while, but then he rolled his eyes "Fine" "Okay, Looney" said James "But if doesn't work, you're gonna pay for it"

It worked. The skeletons were a success and we didn't get detention because Dumbledore liked them. He said they were appropiate for the festivities. A few days later as we sat at breakfast, Sirius yelled: "Hey Lupin" Remus looked at him "Come sit with us" "Mate" James protested "Why did call him?" "He is a genius. We could use that kid for future pranks. And he is our dormmate Potter. Grow up" "Shuttit" James protested I couldn't avoid feeling a bit jelaous. And insecure. I really liked Remus, I did. But what if James and Sirius decided he was better or cooler than me? What if I lose them? And end up having not friends at all? "James is right he is kind of annoying" I said "See?" James said pointing at me "I thought you liked him" Sirius said "I do" Remus sat next to me. "What's up?" Sirius smiled at him "How are you Lupin?" "Good" Remus looked at us but no one spoke. "So, what? Do you want me to teach you another spell? Because I would like more chocolate for it" Sirius laughed. "You're funny" He was paying him more attention than he ever payed to me. Don't be jelaous Pete. They are not going to abandond you. Right? "He's not funny" James whispered "That spell you gave us was useful" Sirius continued "Where did you learned it?" "Emm... My dad taught me some spells before coming here" "Wicked" "Why did he tought you spells if you were gonna learn them here?" James asked "Just in case?" "Maybe you could be useful for our next mischief" Sirius continued "Sirius..." James protested "What?" Sirius asked "We all agree he is brilliant" Here we go. Maybe Remus would be better friend than me. Please James say something. "I mean..." said James "Oh please James..." said Sirius making a pout "Agree with me. It is my Birthday" "What?" I asked "It is your Birthday mate? Why didn't you say anything?" James asked "I'm saying it now" "Happy Birthday Sirius" I said "Happy Birthday" Remus said "Thanks" then he looked at James "So?" "Let me ask you something, Lupin" James said looking at Remus "Why did you made fun of me and my mum?" Remus smiled "I wasn't... I mean I kind of was. Your hair was a mess?" Sirius laughed "C'mon mate, your hair looked ridiculous that day" James fumed at Sirius with his glare. "I didn't make fun of you" I said trying to still feel included. "I thought it was cool" "Thanks Pete" said James. I felt relieved James was speaking to me for once in a good tone. "I guess we could give the Loo... Lupin a chance" Sirius smiled. And Remus blushed. "What do you think Pete?" asked Sirius Wait, was he asking my opinion? I felt I wasn't part of the group. That they were only using me. But I was wrong. They were asking for my opinion. Suddenly I felt relieved. I was their friend. The boys looked at me. I smiled "It would be amazing for Remus to join" Remus blushed even more. But he smiled. "So it's settled" said Sirius smiling "Up to plan the next prank boys" "Wait" said Remus "Who said I wanted to be part of your gang?" but he smiled. We all laughed at that.

#harry potter #marauders #marauders era #marauders fanfiction #james potter #sirius black #peter pettigrew #remus lupin #lily evans #severus snape #hogwarts #sorting hat

[zwritestuff]

Some Things Are Bound To Be (Chapter One) - Kyara

A/N: Okay, hear me out, I know this ship barely has a week of existing - I’m very aware of it, thank you very much. But this idea wouldn’t stop haunting me, and before I knew it I churned out 2.7K in the span of two days. Obssessions be like that, I guess. With that being said - I’m hoping that this will have between 5-7 chapters, because I can’t deal with long multi-chaps at the moment. A big, massive thank you to @fromthenorthernskies​ for beta-ing this 💓 And to Winter for always being on board with my shit and peer pressuring me to write this.

Summary: When simple office gossip snowballs, Kyne finds herself faking to be Kiara’s girlfriend, the daughter of the owner of the company she works at. Not that she has any complain, though.

***

Kyne had been working a little over a week at Schatzi Co. when she met Kiara, though she had heard rumors and hushed whispers about the only daughter of the owners of the company — some said she was a bitch, others that she was a spoiled brat; to Kyne, she was none of those things.

It might just be because she exchanged a total of four words with her, and Kiara treated her as politely as she could be before going on about her day. Either way, she never participated in the insulting comments some of her co-workers made about Kiara, because she didn’t have any bone to pick with her.

Priyanka, her best friend and the one that got her the job interview in the first place, had wisely suggested she stay out of the office drama, at least during her first weeks. She had been working there for a year now, so she knows what she’s talking about; she doesn’t mind when Kyne asks one too many times what did Kiara Schatzi actually do to earn so much hate from the employees, considering she rarely is at the company.

“I don’t know, existing?” Priyanka offers as an answer, while they’re having lunch together at her office. “She’s set to inherit the company once her father decides to retire, that much I know, but I’m not sure where this hate comes from — probably from something that happened before I worked here, but nobody would tell me.” She shrugs, biting her sandwich.

“Oh, c’mon, she can’t be that bad, can she?” Kyne asks, picking at her Adobo. Priyanka is about to answer when someone knocks at the door, and as soon as she tells whoever it is to come in, they see Julia’s head poke from behind the door.

She tells Priyanka that the head of the construction team needs to speak with her about a mistake in the planes for the new project, using that very nasal voice Kyne has become used to rather quickly, and saying in a pretty non-confrontational tone to not shoot the messenger.

Priyanka groans, excusing herself to Kyne before following Julia, who’s still apologizing on behalf of the contratist, and leaves Kyne alone with her Adobo.

Not even a minute goes by when the door is opened again, but this time, it’s Kiara that interrupts in the room.

“Miss Priyanka?” She says, looking around the room and finding Kyne instead. “Oh, hello. Isn’t this Priyanka Kapoor’s office?” Kiara asks, squinting slightly.

Kyne briefly thinks that the red suit fits her so well it should be illegal, but she just nods curtly.

“She just left with Julia, something about a plane for a project being wrong?” Kyne hesitantly replies, though she heard the conversation very clearly.

Kiara groans, rolling her eyes. “How could that woman outrun me when she’s wearing six inch heels?” She asks aloud, barely holding back a laugh. Kyne chuckles.

“I mean, I’ve been working here for a month and I’ve never seen her not wear six inch heels,” she says, though she’s not sure if Kiara pretended to get an answer from her. 

She feels a weird flutter in her chest when Kiara giggles, shooting a smile her way.

 “Yeah, I guess that’s probably it,” Kiara replies, “What’s your name again?” She asks, lingering at the door.

“It’s Kyne Aguilar, miss Schatzi,” she replies with a genuine smile. Kiara smiles back, and Kyne thinks the smile suits her very well.

“I’ll see you around, Miss Aguilar,” she simply says before leaving, and Kyne’s stare stays glued to the door.

When Priyanka returns, much later and with a very visible frown in her face, Kyne doesn’t mention her encounter with Kiara, because she doesn’t find it relevant when her friend is complaining about her professionalism being questioned by one silly mistake.

When the day is over, Kyne is just making her way to the parking lot to meet Priyanka when she runs into Kiara again. She’s walking with her dad, and it makes Kyne straighten her back and avoid looking directly at him. She mutters a good night sir as she passes by their side instead, and she’d swear neither he nor Kiara listened, but she nods politely and says a have a good night that echoes in the otherwise silent hallway.

She’s not sure why, but she barely pays attention to Priyanka’s rant about her day, answering with non-committal sounds, as her mind drifted off and replayed the brief moment she’d spent with Kiara.

Yeah, Kyne is definitely skeptical about the rumors surrounding Kiara.

***

Kyne quickly gets used to her routine at the company.

She’s always been good at math and numbers, so being an accountant was one of her first options going into college, though she would’ve been as happy getting an overall degree in math and teaching children.

Her job as an accountant isn’t as dull as she would’ve imagined, though; she’s the one that everyone comes for calculating budgets, how much would they earn if they invest on a certain project and all that jazz — all of this means people don’t necessarily see her as interesting, and therefore she never gets involved in any kind of office drama, which she appreciates due to the fact that her friends seem to be a walking target for drama worth of High School girls.

Priyanka was the one that introduced her to Scarlett and Bo, and though Kyne appreciates their friendship, she has to admit they’re a little bit messy. Just a little. Scarlett and Bo know everyone’s business at the office, primarily because Scarlett sleeps around more than they’ll ever admit to, and Bo is able to charm her way through people’s most pettiest complains about other co-workers. Oh, and Priyanka is there to de-escalate situations that come back to bite the pair in the ass.

So, overall, work isn’t monotonous at all; she has her friends that always have some sort of gossip to tell her — and there’s also Kiara.

Kiara started working full-time at the company shortly after she graduated from college, just one year after Kyne. This meant she saw her a lot more frequently, instead of sporadically running into her at the hallways once or twice a week — now, it’d be a pretty weird day if she didn’t see Kiara around, talking to people, collecting reports and having meetings with other important members of the company.

They didn’t talk much, though, only exchanging words when Kiara came to collect reports at Kyne’s office and they did small talk for a moment before Kiara went on with her day. Sometimes they’d greet each other if they happened to bump into the other at the end or beginning of the day. It was a cordial enough relationship.

That was until one day she comes to her office unprompted, asking her to follow the flow if her secretary, Lena, appears by looking for her.

“She’s more of an assistant that a secretary, you know? But she can be a bit too overbearing sometimes, though I’m sure I would have to blame my dad for that, he was the one that hired her for me,” Kiara rants, and Kyne just lets her, looking up from her reports from time to time to let her know she’s listening.

She’s pretty sure that this is the first time she’s exchanged more than a few words with Kiara, and there’s some sort of excitement — and a little bit of intimidation — bubbling up in her stomach.

“I mean, you’re the boss of the boss of my boss; if anything, you could just tell her to chill or you’ll fire her. That should calm her,” Kyne suggests, and she’d like to believe her deadpan delivery is what causes Kiara to giggle. 

She feels a tad of pride in herself for making Kiara laugh.

“I would, but I’m not that mean — and she’d tell my dad, anyway,” she jokes with a shrug, and Kyne chuckles. “I have to go, I have a meeting to attend, but thank you for letting me hide here.” Kiara winks at her, and Kyne tries to ignore the weird flutter of her heart.

“You’re welcome to hide here any time, miss Schatzi,” she says earnestly, smiling up at her. Kiara hesitantly turns to look at her.

“You know what? Just call me Kiara.” She smiles back, and all Kyne can do is nod dumbly.

Kiara leaves and Kyne goes back to work, until it’s time for her lunch break, when Priyanka, Bo and Scarlett barge into her office and oblige her to accompany them to this new restaurant that opened two streets away. 

She passes by Kiara in the hallways, and Lena is talking her ear off. Kyne catches Kiara’s glance and she shoots her a smile, Kiara returns it in the form of an eye roll as she briefly looks towards Lena and then back at her, a sneaky smile creeping on her face.

Kyne snorts, trying to focus on the ongoing conversation between her friends, but, much like the first time they met, Kiara doesn’t leave her mind for the rest of the day.

If her friends notice she’s like a deer in the headlights, they don’t bring it up, choosing to instead poke fun at Scarlett for struggling to get Ilona from Human Resources to text them back.

***

It’s becoming a common occurrence for Kiara to hide in Kyne’s office. Kyne’s not sure if Kiara should do that as often as she does, but she supposes she’s allowed to since she’s the daughter of the owner — Kiara gets away with a lot of things she wouldn’t get away with had she been someone else.

Such as interrupting in Kyne’s office in the middle of the day, because otherwise she’ll snap at the wrong people, and she doesn’t want that. Kyne doesn’t really mind, if anything, she’ll gladly let Kiara crash at her office if it means she’s doing the company a favor. Besides, she enjoys her company. Kiara is funny, kind and interesting in so many ways; there’s also the fact that sometimes Kiara brings her sweets to compensate for using her as a couch therapist, which is definitely a bonus in Kyne’s books.

It all makes her wonder what did Kiara do to not be so well-liked among the employees, because Kyne really likes her — as a friend, obviously.

Her other friends, such as Priyanka, Scarlett and Bo —but mostly Priyanka— are always asking her why does the daughter of their boss spend so much time with her, especially during work hours, and Kyne just shrugs and gives vague excuses. She won’t tell anyone Kiara talks shit about the other CEOs like it’s her actual job, she’s not a snitch.

Scarlett likes to joke that Kiara has a crush on her and Kyne should take advantage of that, seduce her and get all her money. Kyne just doesn’t pay attention to them, and flat out denies such thing being a possibility. Because not even in ten lives Kiara would like her like that for more than obvious reasons.

“You don’t give yourself enough credit, Kyne,” Scarlett says one day, on their way to the parking lot. “Like, your flirting is shit, but you’re not that bad looking,” they tease, earning a few chuckles from the girls and an eye roll from Kyne at that.

“Says the one that still can’t get Ilona Verley to go out with them,” Kyne quips back, intelligently derailing the conversation thanks to Scarlett going on a tangent about how they don’t care if Ilona texts them back or not, and how they’re water under the bridge.

Kyne just brushes off her friends’ constant teasing, and doesn’t really bring it up to Kiara, because why would she? It’s just playful nagging, and she doubts anyone else gives two craps about what Kyne does and not.

Well, so she thought.

Kiara comes to her office one day, and nothing seems strange, not even when she settles a cup of coffee in her desk and offers her a bagel. She figures it’s just Kiara thanking her for never complaining when she comes to her for venting.

“Do you have plans on Saturday?” She asks out of the blue, and Kyne cocks a brow, taking a sip from her coffee. She shakes her head no, and Kiara bites her lower lip. “So, uh, the charity ball is on Saturday, I think you know that. And I’m fairly sure you’ve heard the rumors--”

“Wait, what? What rumors?” Kyne cuts her off, knitting her brows in a frown and staring at Kiara, who looks absolutely mortified.

“Oh, no, you have no idea, do you?” She asks, and Kyne can swear this is the first time she’s seen Kiara blush. She looks cute with her cheeks crimson red, actually; it’s a nice change from the poised woman she’s come to know.

“Of what?” Kyne presses, trying to not get distracted by Kiara.

Kiara proceeds to tell her through gritted teeth how many people at the company think they’re dating — apparently her constant visits to Kyne’s office had caused some eyebrows to raise their way. Kiara never bothered to say anything about those rumors, because as the future owner of the company she shouldn’t dignify cheap office gossip with an answer, but then shit hit the fan when the rumors ended up arriving to her father’s ears, and now he expected Kiara to bring her alleged girlfriend to the charity ball.

Kyne sits still at her chair, owlishly blinking at Kiara for a moment too long. She tilts her head, waiting for Kiara to say it’s all a joke and she just wants her to calculate something for her.

But that doesn’t happen, and Kiara just silently stares back.

“That would explain the looks Susan from customer support gives me when I pass from her office on my way to get lunch,” Kyne muses absentmindedly. In fact, if she thinks about it for more than a second, it makes a whole lot of sense. Now she gets why Jenna from the architecture team went on a tangent about how much she hates people that sleep with their bosses for a raise whenever Kyne was around, raising her voice a tad too loud so everyone would hear.

No wonder why one time Priyanka scolded her for not interacting more with their co-workers, saying she’d benefit by being up to date with the office gossip.

“Have you thought of telling your father it was all a misunderstanding?” She proceeds after a few moments, and Kiara shrugs.

“He was excited that I was finally going out with someone, and I didn’t want to ruin his happiness,” she explains, and Kyne cocks a brow. She always assumed Kiara was constantly dating people — with how gorgeous she is, it didn’t seem that much of a stretch.

Kyne thinks it through for an entire minute, and comes to the conclusion that though it is definitely a bad idea (lies have short legs, they say), there’s something that drives her to say yes. It might just be that she’ll never get to be with a pretty girl like Kiara ever again, fake or not, so she decides to bite the bullet.

“If I don’t get a raise after this, I’m going to work for your rival company and sell them all your corporative secrets,” Kyne deadpans, and it takes Kiara a full minute to understand that is Kyne’s way of accepting to be her fake girlfriend for the charity ball.

Kiara lets out a sigh of relief, slouching in her chair and thanking Kyne profusely, promising to take her shopping on Friday to find a dress for the charity ball. Kyne jokingly says she’ll suck the money out of Kiara’s credit card if given the opportunity.

“As if that was possible, darling.” She winks at her, and something inside Kyne twitches. “I gotta go, but I’ll text you later to sort this out.”

“Wait,” she interrupts her again, before she leaves. “How do you have my number?”

Kiara smiles mischievously, and Kyne mentally goes over what she ate today, because her stomach twitches again.

“I have my ways of finding out things,” Kiara says, winking one last time before she exits Kyne’s office.

Once she’s alone, Kyne wonders out loud what the fuck had she messed herself into.

#my fanfiction #rpdr fanfiction #some things are bound to be fic #kyne #online kyne #kiara schatzi #priyanka love #scarlett bobo #boa #kyara #canada's drag race

[azenta]

Everyone says the difference between 4 and 3 is the 3 doesn’t allow their feelings to get in the way of their work or doing whatever they set out to do and will put them on a back burner and ignore them, sometimes never going back to resolve the issue. But do you think a 3 core / fix could be overemotional and unable to ignore their emotions in order to achieve things? Or is this impossible?

It is indeed one of the main differences between 3s and 4s. An healthy integrated 3 will actually understand their feelings are important and need to be taken into account a minimum when achieving anything remotely important or "big" to them. Tho, if they are healthy they are unlikely to reach emotional outbursts since that would mean there was a lot of repression and an inability to communicate them very well, which are not the healthiest adaptation methods. So, they would rather ponder and come back with it in a collected manner (adapted and proper control), all while actually be true and authentic about their feelings. 

However, it is true for average 3s that they would do anything to repress and hide their TRUE feelings, as a mean to keep tight control over the image they want to project. I insist on "true feelings" vs "expression of feelings". 3s seek to control the image they project, and so they are aware the display of certain emotions can be favorable to their image as much as some could be "bad", for a lack of better word. Therefore, it is unlikely to see a 3 suddenly burst out of emotions or be unable to control how they feel within, but it is very likely they'll be very expressive especially with Fe. 

In fact, 3s whole personality has been built around controlling their inner authentic emotions and actually anything within them that could be seen as "undesirable" (3w2 > 3w4). Also, shame is the One Emotion they have specifically built against, and I can tell you they rather disintegrate to 9 directly when facing it than just live through it. 

On the other hand, 4s will not repress their true feelings. In fact, their whole personality revolve around indulging in the core of their feelings. They withdraw to better feel whatever they are feeling and then react as a mean to express and taste the most possible the authenticity of those feelings, as a mean to project their most raw ("unique and authentic") self which is the image they seek to show and incarnate.

Therefore, as a reactive type, 4s will not fret to demonstrate outburst of emotions since this raw expression is believed to be the sole and true way of being authentic and so, unique. While 3s are competency types, so control is extremely important compared to 4s. They want to keep an image, therefore emotions are played with as a tool, but authentic feelings are the opposite of "controlled", thus why they are repressed and 3s are unlikely to burst out or have a turbulent display of inner emotions. Even 3w4 will control their w4 reactions, since 3 is still the central goal and this means controlling how their authenticity will appear (ironically). 

However, the other fixes can really make things difficult for some 3s sometimes. I had a client recently who was 3w2 (likely ENFJ... or ESTP) with a 6w7 and 1w2 fixes (and So/sx), and at some point they actually "exploded" because of some people in the group doing (questionable) pranks. But it wasnt going against their 3 core image at first. They felt justified (1w2 fix saying hi) about it and thought other would feel similarly about the situation than them. So they joined the group when there was enough people gathered at the same place and then 3w2 did let them know a piece of their mind... They were pissed. A lot. But, the group started laughing when they exploded, because it was way too much. And of course, 3w2 didnt expect it would turn this way, at all. 

I can tell you tho the client was totally perturbated and destabilized with the group's reaction. They went from confident and expressive to doubtful and absorbed, almost apathetic for a brief moment (meeting 9 dis point). They felt confident because of Fe + Soc + 6 + 1 fix beliefs, that what they were disclaiming was Right and for The Greater Good, totally Common Sense even, so how could their reaction be "exaggerated"? They were justified. But it was over the top.

The intensity of their reaction wasnt justified, even tho the feeling and concern they had were. This is where their 3 core mechanisms got hit hard.

When i talked to them they were nervous and felt they screwed up big time. Their image was shattered in little pieces, tho they couldnt admit it at this very moment. They kept trying to justify their reaction at first, in a desperate attempt to preserve their image (likable, good, rightful and correct). But they knew they kinda screwed up and eventually their worries surfaced up. They went as far as believing people would not like them anymore, and it really seemed to concern them. They felt they had to apologize themselves to the group even tho they still felt morally justified and didnt really think they should have to (and they werent necessarily wrong about this situation either, but their reaction was overboard). I heard they apoloigized but they admitted it was to preserve some image, which is big Soc 3 Fe mood there. They learned from it tho, so it was a good thing people didnt react as they wanted them to.

In any case, despite 3s hard maintenance and tight control over their emotions, the fixes, cognitive function and even IVs can make them react intensely to some situation. But the 3/fix component will do anything in their power to restore or manipulate their image in any given situation to make them be seen as whatever the 3 wants to be seen as. But will it be authentic? Like their apology, it can be done by "principle" but not truly felt, and that's why 3s have for challenge to deal with authenticity vs inauthenticity. They have to learn the image they project doesnt mean they Are what they project.

So, it's important to notice why and what makes the person react. Is it an image concern or a head or gut concern? So you can look for the right type to explain the reactivity or lack thereof. When it will come to image, 3 component will manipulate their feelings to make them fit whatever they feel they need to. 4s wont. They'll be blunt about feelings, but you'll notice there is a strong concern for being "uglily authentic".

Lastly, to sum up shame types, they are usually called "emotional type" too, because all their strategy revolves around how they manage and indulge their emotions. 2s by complying and sharing only the desirable ones (positive outlook), 3s by repressing(/controlling) and then asserting whatever they think the feelings tell them they need or want onto others, and 4s by withdrawing to seize the feeling and then reacting to show off their "authenticity". This is what defines them at their very core and thus why 3 bursting out and indulging their authentic feelings is unlikely, but not impossible. It all depends if their authenticity actually guarantees them a desirable image, until they mature and learn to dissociate from their image. 4s on the other hand need to learn not everybody needs to know every single whereabouts of their feelings to make them "truly authentic".

Anyway, I hope it could answer your question uwu ~☆

#ask #enneagram #3s #4s #shame types #image types

[talpup]

Light In the Darkness:68

Summary: Yami Sukehiro just wanted to join the Magic Knights and make his mentor proud.  He knew there would be trails.  He knew trouble would come his way.  Knew he would be faced with discrimination for being a foreigner and a peasant.  What he didn’t know.  Didn’t expect.  Was that literal Chaos would come his way.  That he and his mentor’s sister would be at the center of world ending trouble.  Or that he would fall in love with his mentor’s sister and face more than discrimination; but the jealously of Nozel Silva who loved the same woman he did.

Please remember this fic is rated mature and has warnings of violence, abuse, sexual tension, eventual sexual behavior, and other possible triggers.  For a full list of story tags please check the fics AO3 (link to that at the top of my tumblrs homepage).

Chapter 68

Teris had received Yami’s letter that he and Bronn had been placed under Mereoleona.  It said that he would be stationed with the southeast contingent that was being overseen by Commander Greywright.  She had been relieved to learn that Yami wasn’t being sent with the southwest.  Even though Julius was overseeing that division, it was considerably closer to the Spade Kingdom border.  Though that was probably why Yami had been sent to the southeast.

Teris had hoped to see Yami at least one more time before they set out; but that was not to be.  She found herself stupidly thinking that all of this was a sort of punishment for them going too far out in the woods on Yami’s birthday.  The memory of him pressing and rubbing against her was enough to make her blush.

“Tired already?”  Randall asked, looking over at her.

“What?” Teris turned an even deeper shade of red afraid the man could read where her thoughts had wandered.

“You’re flushed.”  Randall commented.

The Crimson Lion offered her a water skin.  He wondered if the scars she hid underneath her buttoned up blouse weren’t the only lingering markers of what she’d been through on the Summer Solstice.  Were two and a half months really enough time for one to fully recover their strength after such a thing?  Given that no one had ever been through such a thing, it was difficult to say what such a recovery looked like or how long it should take.

“Have something to drink.”  Randall urged, when Teris didn’t take the water skin.  “It’ll help keep you going till we can stop and rest.”

Rather than argue and deny she wasn’t tired, Teris took the skin and had a couple sips.  Handing it back she looked on ahead, wondering how far they were going to travel together till Captain Jax and Jamie’s teams broke from theirs.  She was grateful to have Jax and the Golden Dawns Captain present, even if it was only for a time. No doubt Nozel felt somewhat relieved as well.  It gave him someone to follow and ask questions of, until he began to feel more comfortable in his role as acting Captain.

Teris still couldn’t imagine what the King had been thinking.  Making Nozel an acting Captain and charging him with such responsibility. Was His Majesty angry with House Silva and this was his way at punishing them?  Our was he really that lacking in knowledge of what if meant to be a Magic Knights Captain, having never served himself? In any case Teris was determined to do her best to see Nozel succeed and knew Fuegoleon, Randall, and Zara would do the same.

Zara had proved invaluable.  Before they had headed out, Nozel had the Purple Orca draw a revised and correct map of the Diamond Kingdom which had then been magically copied and given to every Magic Knights Captain, the original filed away somewhere within Magic Investigations.  Teris had been proud of and happy for the man.  It was about time Zara got some of the recognition he deserved.  Zara had be grateful to her.  Thanking her on several occasion.  Which only made Teris uncomfortable.  Seeing her discomfort, Nozel had put a quick stop to it, snapping somewhat harshly at Zara.  As upset as Teris had been at Nozel for his stern words to Zara, she had been grateful that Zara’s verbal gratitude had ceased.

She was still worried about Yami.  He would be having to skirt the Witches Forest to get to the Diamond Kingdoms eastern border.  The first time Yami had entered the Witches Forest, he had made quite the disturbance and freed Vanessa.  If the witches learned of his presence so near their territory would they try to seek revenge? Teris shook her head trying to clear her mind of such thoughts. Worrying about things that may never happen and she had no control over wouldn’t serve any purpose.

Teris reached the rest of the group.  They had paused at a sheer ten hundred-thousand meter drop.

Jamie looked over to Nozel.  “Well done acting Captain.  Your man has led us to a cliff.”

“We have a number of mages that can get us down.”  Jax calmed.  “The least of which is you.  Go on, Jamie.  Create a rope that we can use to climb down.”

Jaime turned to Jax.  “We were instructed not to use our magic unless necessary.  Doing so will attract attention and lessen our chances of success.  Never mind that this is war.  Our mana stores need to--”

“I was at the meeting and heard Sir Jorah same as you.”  Jax cut in over the other man.  Looking out over the expanse, he muttered under his breath.  “Idiot.”

“I heard that.”  Jamie snapped, voice tight with pent up aggression.

“This mission is a necessary task, is it not?”  Jax questioned the Golden Dawns Captain.  “And continuing on our way is necessary in order to complete our mission, yes?  Therefore, is not getting down this cliff necessary to continuing on our way and completing said mission?”

“I get what you’re saying.”  Jamie gritted.

“Good. I was worried I’d have to write it out.”  Jax said, with exaggerated relief.

“What is it Zara?”  Teris asked, seeing the Purple Orca looking pensive.

“There is a way down.  It’s just that it’s hidden from up here.”  Zara said.

Jamie slapped his thigh in exasperation.  “Why didn’t you say so? Nozel, if you want to be a good Captain, you should instruct your people to offer up important information before it’s argued out.”

“He would have if you’d but quit your whining long enough to give him the chance.”  Teris snipped.

Nozel’s eyes snapped to her, widening slightly.  Jamie and Jax blinked.

Jamie took a couple steps her way.  “Why you little—I’ll teach you how to properly speak to a Magic Knights Captain.”

Nozel stepped in front of Teris, chin slightly raised.

“Move. Or be moved.”  Jamie commanded.

“She’s one of mine.”  Nozel said with quiet, fiercely contained control. “If anyone will be instructing her.  It will be me.”

“Then I suggest you do so, acting Captain.”  Jamie glanced back at Jax.  “You got a lot of bad behavior to break her out of in a short amount of time.”  He raised a warning finger at Nozel.  “She disrespects me again and I’ll go through you to teach her a lesson she won’t soon forget.  Understand me.”

Nozel stared without word or expression.  He was good at that.  You could say it was one of the things the Silva’s were known for.  Like the Vermilion's red hair and pointed incisors or the Silva’s silver hair.  The Silva’s all seemed to be capable of staring without blinking.

“Jamie. Stand down.  He gets it.”  Jax said, watching them closely.

Jamie turned to the Black Bulls Captain.  “You got a bold, mouthy one there, Jax.”  He said of Teris.  “Make sure you remind her of the same when she’s returned to you.  Vice Captain or not I will not be disparaged.”

“I suppose you get enough of that from your wife and fellows.”  Jax taunted.

“Hurry up and show us the way down, peasant.”  Jamie ordered Zara.

Nozel didn’t have to see Teris’ expression to know that she was going to comment on the commoners behalf.  “Don’t.”  Nozel silenced in a harsh whisper.  He turned his head and looked at her out of the corner of his eye.  “Don’t.  You.  Dare.”

Teris looked at Nozel, a range of emotions playing on her face before finally settling on one he had seen directed at him all too often. Nozel sighed, resigned to Teris’ accustomed anger.  Still he continued to stared at her, blue eyes shining with hard judging coldness.

As often as Teris had seen that look in Nozel’s eyes, it had rarely ever been directed at her.  Biting as Nozel’s words could be when he chastised her, he rarely looked at her with with anything but… Teris’ stomach curled in on itself.  Despite the uncomfortable nervousness his piercing gaze cause, she stared back, refusing to be the first to look away.

Nozel watched her without blinking.  He’d be damned if he let this go without Teris submitting to his authority.  Tired and on edge as they all were, they were behind enemy lines.  Traversing the border of two unfriendly kingdoms, one of which they were at war with.  Teris needed to know her place here and now.  Nozel had to make certain she would obey and comply with his commands without challenging him. Lives were at stake.

As annoying as Randall sometimes found Teris’ words and actions to be, he was a noble and a gentleman.  Seeing a lady being handled so roughly, even by a mere gaze, made him want to intervene.  He opened his mouth to say something, anything, that would call attention to himself and away from Teris.  Fuegoleon gripped Randall’s shoulder and shook his head.  The Vermillion knew what Nozel was doing and why.  Fuegoleon was likely one of the few, if not only one, who knew how much Nozel hated having to do this.  Much as Fuegoleon didn’t like it himself, he was proud at his friend and acting Captain for stepping up and doing what had to be done no matter how difficult it was.

Teris could feel the eyes of everyone on her.  She knew what Julius and Jax would say.  What they both would want and expect of her.  She imagined Jax’s expression as he watched, standing not too far behind Nozel.  Releasing a breath she lowered her gaze.

“Captain.” Teris said, softly submitting.

Nozel turned away without word least Teris or anyone else see his relief. Taking a step, he looked over the cliff edge and instructed.  “Zara, show us the way.”

Once down, they made three separate small camps a thousand or so meters apart from each other.  Fuegoleon watched Teris chew on rations. They had enough to last them months, the small charmed bag that held them, both preserving and making them small enough to fit until pulled out, reverting back to regular size.  It had something to do with bending space that Fuegoleon cared little about.

Teris hadn’t spoken since the clifftop.  And Nozel seemed content to give Teris her space and let her sulk.  Fuegoleon knew his cousin better. While time and space may have worked under different circumstances, it wasn’t going to work in this instance.  Teris wasn’t the most prideful person he knew; but she certainly was one of the most stubborn.  And she never liked being told what to do or put in her place; usually harboring a grudge against anyone who dared to do so.

Since it had been Nozel who had put her in her place, the shock and ill feelings Teris had would likely fester if simply left.  In Fuegoleon’s mind, Nozel had been too lenient with Teris in the past, both as a friend and her Intended.  He figured Teris had probably come to expect that she would always get her way with Nozel and that Nozel would let her without putting up much of a fight.  Not only would that not work under these circumstances; it wouldn’t work later when they were wed.  Nozel had only weakened himself and his authority in letting Teris always have her way.  Something that Fuegoleon knew his friend would eventually have to rectify, dealing with the consequences of his leniency in Teris’ anger and unwillingness to obey.  If any good could be said from Nozel being made acting Captain, it was bringing this issue to a head and forcing the two to deal with it.

Fuegoleon got to his feet, disgusted with the both of them.  With Nozel for his lacking in being the strong authority he needed to be with Teris. And with Teris for being a spoiled child who knew her place but refused to accept it.

Hearing footsteps Fuegoleon cursed.  Zara was out placing traps and keeping watch as the rest of their small group recouped from the days long trek and ate.  It didn’t matter how well Zara knew the terrain if he was inept enough to let someone by him, Fuegoleon thought.

“It’s Jax.  Relax.”  Jax said.

Nozel looked up from the map he was pretending to study.  He already knew every line and curve of it without looking; but had needed something to look at and appear busy with.

The Black Bulls Captain saw Teris and Nozel sitting as far away from each other as they possibly could while still being considered part of the same camp.  He sighed.  He had been right in coming.  Nozel was too proud and too easy on Teris.  Yami wouldn’t have stood for it.  Jax remembered when he had given Yami the lead on a mission when the young man had been avoiding Teris.  Other than Iban using his magic on Teris, and Yami taking to Iban for it, the mission had been a success.  Yami and Teris putting aside their differences to work together.  But Nozel wasn’t Yami.  The royal was harsh and demanding in a completely different way.  A way that always seemed to rub Teris the wrong way.

“Captain Nozel.”  Jax said, choosing to use the title to further cement the mans place in everyone's mind.  “May I speak with Teris for a moment?”

Nozel looked at Jax wondering why her rightful Captain even bothered to asked.  Wasn’t Jax suppose to be some ruffian that went his own way?  Not caring what others thought or wanted?  He realized the Black Bulls Captain was attempting to assist him by showing him respect.  It surprised Nozel.  Everything he had heard and thought of Captain Jax had led him to believe the man incapable of such tact. Nozel nodded his assent, looking at the Captain with fresh eyes.

“Thank you.”  Jax said.  He looked down at Teris and tilted his head. “Let’s go.”

Teris look up at him, hesitating.  She had only ever feared Jax once or twice before.  His quiet, simmering anger much more frightening than Bronn’s explosive outbursts and threats that she knew the Vice Captain would never carry out on her.

“I’m not gonna tell you twice.”  Jax rumbled.

Teris quickly got to her feet and followed her Captain, a pace or two behind.

Jax stopped once they were a few yards away.  He didn’t mind that the others could still see them and were likely watching.  So long as they couldn’t hear.

Teris waited, nervousness growing the longer Jax kept his back to her. Finally, she couldn’t stand it anymore and broke.  “I’m sorry. I know I never should have challenged Nozel like--”

“Captain.”

“Pardon?”

“Captain Nozel.”  Jax corrected.

“Captain Nozel.”  Teris repeated, morosely.  “It was wrong and stupid. Not the least because of where we are and what we’re facing.”

“And?” Jax prompted, looking over his shoulder at her.

“And?” Teris echoed, trying to figure out what more he wanted. Tentatively, she offered.  “I’m sorry about what I said to Captain Jamie.”

“Who cares about that ass?”  Jax turned to her and pointed.  “Don’t do that again though.  Not till you’ve been made Vice Captain. Can’t really defend you before then if Jamie decides to make a fuss.”

“And after then?”  Teris questioned, a teasing lit to her voice.

Jax tried not to roll his neck, knowing the others watching.  She and Yami really were made for each other.  And he was either a fool or a glutton for wanting the both of them to be his Vice Captain's.  Sure he was upset with Teris for challenging the Captain she was temporarily serving under, especially after Nozel had so readily shielded her from Jamie’s wrath.  Whether it was because Nozel had been being a good Captain or acting as Teris’ Intended, Jax didn’t know.  Nor did he care.  What mattered was that he hadn’t had to step in which would have only weakened Nozel’s position as acting Captain in everyone's eyes.

“Teris.” Jax sighed, closing tired eyes.

“What? Tell me what you want and I’ll do it.  I know the situation we’re in.  I know what I have to do.”

“Do you?  Cause earlier it certainly didn’t seem like it.”

Teris hammered the toe of her boot into the ground and mumble.  “So it took me a while.  But I got there eventually, didn’t I?”

“Eventually isn’t good enough and you know that.  When out in the field compliance and submission needs to be instantaneous.  Lives are on the line.  Soon our teams will be separating.  What happens then? Can I trust you to act and obey Nozel as you would me or Julius?  To treat and respect him as your Captain?  Cause that’s what he is. Forget the words temporary or acting.  Nozel Silva is your Captain.”

Fully chastised, Teris lowered her head and muttered.  “I said I was sorry.”

“Not to the right person.”

Teris’ head snapped up.  “You want me to apologize to him!”  She shook her head.  “I can’t.”

“You can and you will.”  Jax told.  “Along with the promise to listen and obey him in all things without challenge from here on out. Consider it an order from me if you must.”

“But you’re not my Captain right now.”  Teris argued, instantly regretting her words.

Jax stared down at her.  His eyes flashed dangerously.  “Is that the way you want to play this?”

Teris shook her head again.  “No, Sir.”

Jax sighed, thinking of how much Yami had rubbed off on her.  He only hoped Teris’ better habits had consequently rubbed off on Yami. “Good night then.”

“Captain.” Teris called.

Jax looked back at her.

“I really am sorry.”  Teris said.

Jax gave her a small smile.  “I know.  Just make sure he knows it too.”

Teris headed back to where she had set her pack.  While Fuegoleon and Randall had brought something to lay on, she had kept it simple.  No fabric was going to make the ground any softer anyway.  The pack carrying a couple changes of underwear and another change of clothes suited well enough as a pillow.  Having so little to carry allowed her to go on longer without tiring.  It certainly helped with the speed in which she prepared and repacked her space since all she did was drop the bag off her shoulders and pick it back up.

Plopping back down near her pack, Teris picked up her rations and continued eating the tough, chewy, tasteless thing.  She would do as Jax said; but she wasn’t about to head straight to Nozel and do it now.  It wasn’t that she cared that they had seen Jax pull her aside and speak to her.  She knew they knew what it had been about.  They probably figured her Captain had scolded her about the way she had spoken to Jamie too.  Then again they may not have, given how little they thought of and regarded Jax and the Black Bulls in general.

No, she didn’t head straight to Nozel because she wasn’t ready. Teris had known she had to apologize to Nozel before Jax had ever come.  Though her stubbornness likely would've kept her from doing so if her Captain hadn’t ordered her to.  Teris wanted the apology to at least sound somewhat repentful and knew she wouldn't be able to convey that right now.  Moreover she had no idea what she was going to say.  I’m sorry those in the hierarchy are such stupid, rude asses that get under my skin when they mistreat decent, upstanding people who in every aspect but social are better than them.  Teris didn’t think that would suffice.

Zara returned from setting the traps.  “All done, Captain.  Anyone or thing wanders over here will have a nasty surprise.

“We’re not talking bugs or small mammals.  Are we?”  Randall asked, thinking that would be tiresome.

“Anything the size of an child or larger.”  Zara answered.

“Child?” Randall repeated.

“The Diamond Kingdom often takes young promising children and begins training them to become Magic Warriors.”  Fuegoleon told.

“Takes? From their parents and homes?”  Randall asked, disturbed.

Fuegoleon nodded.

Randall made a face at that.  “Still doesn’t explain why a trap is needed for something their size.”

“They use and send them out in much the same way as Sentries.”  Teris answered, Julius having once told her.

Nozel looked over the top map and across the camp at Teris.  He found Teris looking at him and almost looked back down, but forced himself to hold her gaze.  Teris’ shoulders tightened.  But she gave in and lowered her eyes.  Jax was right.  If she didn’t get a handle on this it was goes to spell trouble and possibly cost one or more of them their lives.  She ground the heel of her boot into the earth more angry at herself than anyone else.

Why was it so difficult to respect and submit to him, she wondered. Acting or not, Nozel was her Captain.  That alone should have made her capable of obedience, even if it was distasteful.  Much as she didn’t respect the social hierarchy, she respected the Magic Knight Captain's.  Even Captain's like Jamie and Pyter; all be it not as readily as some of the others.  So why was she having so much trouble with thinking of and treating Nozel with the deference due to him as her missions Captain?  Because you grew up with and know him so well, her mind offered.  No.  That wasn’t it.  Because as your Intended, respect and obedience toward him was already expected.  Yeah.  That sounded more like it.  She was afraid that if she submitted to Nozel here and now then he would come to expect the same from her in other areas of their relationship.  Are you also afraid that obedience and deference will become habit?  Teris scoffed at her own thought. Yeah, that was never going to happen.

Feeling tired and energized all at once, Teris called to Nozel.  “Captain.”

Nozel looked up from the map no one believed he was truly studying.

“May I have first watch?”  Teris asked.

“Wake Randall in an hour and a half.”  Nozel allowed.

“Thanks.” Teris got to her feet, brushing off her pants.

“The traps start ten meters out.”  Zara called to her.

Teris gave him a nod.  Last thing she needed to do was get caught in one of his traps.  That would be embarrassing.  It’d certainly complete her shame for the day.

Making her way out as far as she dared, Teris wrapped her cloak tightly around her.  Fuegoleon had super heated a mass of stones to protect them from the cold of the night.  But away from their warmth, the constant wind bit and made her shiver.  While Teris usually preferred it colder than most given how hot she naturally ran; once passed a certain point, the cold effected her worse than others.  She found herself regretting that she had asked for first shift.  Then realized that it would only get colder as the night went on and was grateful.

Was it always this windy in the Diamond Kingdom?  Or were they still that high up despite their long descent?  She heard footsteps coming her way from the camp.

Thinking it was Fuegoleon, she told.  “You should get some sleep.”

“I don’t sleep much while out on missions.”  Nozel responded.  He offered her a cup of tea.  “Here.”

“Thanks.” Teris took the steaming mug, cupping it close to her chest, relishing the warmth.

Nozel watched her a moment.  “You alright?”

Teris turned to him.  “What’s that?”

“The cold.  Are you alight?”

“I’m fine.”  Teris assured, trying not to shiver.

Nozel fought the urge to give her his cloak, wondering if that was a Captain like thing to do.  He hated this.  Being caught between the many things he was to her.  As if being her friend and Intended who loved her wasn’t challenging enough.  And to top it off, she now knew of his feelings for her.  His kiss had bared himself open to her.  And Teris wounded him far deeper than any bitten lip.  The pain of that hidden wound still hadn’t healed.  It ripped open every time he relived her rejection in his mind.  Every time he thought of her choosing some ill-bred, uncivilized, filthy foreigner over him. Every time he touched her and she pulled away.  Or any other countless instances.  It was a wound that would never scar because it would never heal.

“Nozel.” Teris growled at herself.  “Captain.  I’m sorry.  There’s no excuse for my earlier behavior.  It was unbecoming and won’t happen again.  I promise.”

Nozel stared at her, waiting for her to give some deflective reasoning or excuse despite her having said there was no excuse.  When it didn’t come, he realized she was fully serious and making a concerted effort.  Her willingness to take full responsibility without excuse was proof that she was seriously contrite and trying to rectify it, and not make the same mistake again.  As badly as he wanted to tell her not to worry about it, he knew that was him and not his rank talking.

Still, Nozel forgave too easily.  “It’s in the past.  Just make sure it stays there.”

“Yes, Sir.”  Teris said, angry at herself for bristling slightly when he didn’t down play her actions.

Having that done and out of the way, they both relaxed.  Being a Magic Knights Captain was difficult and tiring; but being Teris’ Captain was difficult, tiring, and confusing.  It left Nozel questioning himself; something he wasn’t accustomed to doing and knew he shouldn’t be doing at this time and place.

“I think I will try to get some sleep.”  Nozel said, thinking it best to leave her to her duties.

“I’m glad you’re taking care of yourself.  Thanks for the tea, Captain.”

Nozel gave a small huff.  This was so unexpected and new for all of them. He wondered if they’d manage to get use to it before it was over.

68.2

Just because the sun went down didn’t mean the fighting stopped; even though Bronn wished to mana that it would.  This was their third battle in two days, and the longest one at that.  Bronn had no time to envy Jax.  Or curse his Captain for not taking him.  He didn’t have time to hate his Captain for leaving him under the fiery Lioness who fought harder and fiercer than anyone, and expected the same of those serving under her.

As much as Bronn hated to admit it, Mereoleona scared him we she got like this.  It was one of the main reasons he had come to fancy her in the first place.  But all of that was in the past.  His long held feelings for Mereoleona had ended as his feelings for Gilly had grown.  Now he loved his betrothed so much that he listened and obeyed her better than he listened to and obeyed Jax.

Bronn had always figured the sweet, tender ones wouldn’t do it for him. Thinking that he needed someone that scared him a little from time to time to get the job done.  Turns out he just hadn’t met the right sweet one.  He didn’t need to fear Gilly to want to please her over himself.  His fear of her disappointment was enough if ever he wanted to go his own way or do his own thing.

He’d certainly disappoint Gilly if he died out here.  Which was the main reason why Bronn had contented himself to following Yami about, playing support to the younger mans aggressive lead.  Problem was, on the battlefield Yami scared him almost as much as Mereoleona did. Even without his little Black Sheep, the Lord of Destruction was destructive.  After going on like that during the first two battles, Bronn had thought Yami would slow.  But the little shit didn’t. Instead, Yami was just as energetic and deadly as he had been at the start.  Bronn chalked it up to youth.

Anyone who looked at Yami and Bronn probably thought they were similar type of men.  And much as Bronn hated to admit it, there were a few similarities.  That said, the two had some rather stark differences. And it was those differences, not similarities that made them clash and hate each other.  While neither were men of typical honor so to speak.  Yami was a man of principle.  Where as Bronn’s standards changed depending on too many variables to count.  It was true that both men didn’t respect much.  But once Yami’s respect was earned, it was like an unmovable wall that would take something cataclysmic to shake and tear down.  Bronn on the other hand had to have his trust and respect constantly earned.  Even with Jax.  It was why Bronn constantly challenged his friend and Captain, subconsciously checking for weakness.

And maybe the biggest difference, or at least the one that bothered Bronn the most, was that Yami had absolutely no shame.  As much as Bronn acted as if he didn’t care, and wanted people to believe that he didn’t.  Bronn cared very much about his image.  Unless you were one of the few that Yami Sukehiro truly cared about, the younger man didn’t give a rats ass what you thought about him.  Even if you were one of the few he cared for, chances are Yami wasn’t going to change.  Yami didn’t care.  You could find him in any situation, no matter how compromising, and Yami would shrug it off and continue on without blush or care.  Bronn would've given almost anything to be someone like Yami with literally no shame or care of what others thought.  Not that he’d ever admit it.  Bronn would rather kill himself than let his envy of the little shit be discovered.

“Yami!” Bronn yelled.  “You’re crossing too far into their line.”

“What’s the matter old man?  Can’t keep up?”  Yami taunted, sending out a dark cloaked slash before the enemy could get their spell off.

Bronn used his magic to transport Yami back to his side.  “No, you idiot! I’m not blind.  Nor do I want to die on this cursed, barren foreign land.  Open your damn eyes!”

Bronn’s hand swung sharply.  He fully expected to miss Yami’s head, accustomed to Yami ducking away.  So when Bronn actually hit him, he felt a moment of cruel satisfaction.  Then quickly realized what it meant.  Yami was more tired than he appeared.  Bronn ignored that fact because they were at war and all of them were tired despite it only having been two days.

The Vice Captain gestured to the Magic Warriors.  “They’re baiting you, you fool.  Looking to draw you in so they can surround you and be done with you.”

“They can try.”  Yami said, staring at the three Magic Warriors he had been pursuing.

Bronn slapped at Yami’s head again, figuring it would connect and maybe, if he were lucky, knock some sense into the younger man.

Yami ducked out of the way.  Looking at the Vice Captain, he told.  “You got the first one for free.  So what do you want to do?  Turn tail and run?”

“Watch yourself, boy.  I’ll whip your tail raw.”  Bronn saw the three Magic Warriors turn and slowly make their way back to resume the fight.  “They’re coming back for more.  Hold this line and go no further unless I tell you.”

“I’m not all that good at listening to you.”  Yami said, fingers opening and closing along the hilt of his katana in effort to relax the muscles in his hand.

“Don’t I know it.”  Bronn grumbled.  He pointed at him.  “You go five meters further and I bring you back.  Don’t make me go wasting mana or I’ll kick your ass.”

“It must kill you.  Having to look after me like this.”  Yami said, eyes on his foe.

“More than you know.”  Bronn said, readying his own magic.

“Yeah, well I don’t like it much either.”  Yami growled.  “I can take care of myself.  Was doing so long before Julius found me.”

“And tell me smart ass.  How many lunatic zealots and gangs of hired killers were after you back then?”  When Yami didn’t reply, Bronn sniffed.  “Didn’t think so.  Just know this is all your fault.  I wouldn’t be stuck babysitting.  And you wouldn't be in danger if you had listened to me.  I told you from day one to stay away from that royal girl.”

“Again. I don’t listen to you all that well.”  Yami said.

Bronn growled, hand lifting to smack him again.  Instead of making the futile move, he barked.  “Hurry up and take the smaller two.  I’ll take the big one.”

“I want the big one.”  Yami said.

Bronn glared.  “I’ll transport you back to Castle City if you don’t obey me, boy.”  He caught sight of one the eight Shining Generals headed their way.  “Better yet, you take those three.”  He said, right before stepping through a portal.  He fell through another that opened directly over the General.

Yami took in the three Magic Warriors that stalked closer.  They looked as tired as he felt.  Still, he had something they didn’t.  A driving need for revenge.  “You guys know where I can find a Magic Warrior named Lotus Whomalt? Uses smoke magic.  Black hair.  Goatee.  Annoyingly talkative and lazy.”

Two of the Magic Warriors looked at each other wondering if this was some sort of tactic.

Yami pointed at the third.  “You.  I can tell you know exactly who I’m talking about.  Where is he?”

“He’s serving under Commander Fanzell.” The Magic Warrior answered.

“And where is this Commander Fanzell?”  Yami questioned.

“He’s--” The Mage turned to point.

The other two Magic Warriors also turned, looking in the direction Commander Fanzell’s squad was posted.  Yami struck out at them, slicing the two down.  Before the third could react, he charged. Turning his katana so the blunt end faced out, he sent out another slash.  This one not fatal.  It hit the Magic Warrior in the chest and sent him flying.

Yami lept, landing on the Magic Warrior just as the Mage hit the ground.   “Point again. Wasn’t paying attention the first time.”

Hand shaking, the Magic Warrior pointed.

“Arigatou.” Yami made a fist and punched him, knocking him out.  If he saw the Mage again he’d kill him.  But it seemed rude to do so when the man had been of help. He stood and looked over to see Bronn battling some burly man with a really hairy chest.

“You good?”  Yami called to the Vice Captain.

“What do you think!”  Bronn huffed, struggling against the equivalent of a Magic Knights Captain.  On top of that the General was still fresh, having not participated in the first two battles.

“Good. I’m going over there.”  Yami pointed.

“The hell you are!”  Bronn barked. “Yami.  Yami!”  He glanced back seeing Yami already making his way.  Then cursed and lept through a portal, barely missing having his head skewered.

The General gave a bellowing laughed.  “Your friend’s a fool.”

“Not my friend.  Though he is a fool.”  Bronn glanced at Yami.  The idiot was fighting his way deeper into the Diamond Kingdoms line.

The General laughed again.  “My men are fond of ridding the world of fools.  As we speak, they gather to rid the Clover Kingdom of yet another of their beloved Magic Knights.”

Bronn scanned the area Yami was entering, seeing that the General was right.  Yami’s presence so far into their line hadn’t gone unnoticed and the Magic Warriors were all but licking their chops as they waited just a few more seconds before the order came to pounce.

“Damn it.  I’m getting too old for this.”  Bronn cursed.

Mereoleona landed behind him.  “I agree.  You had one job.  And you couldn’t even do that.”

“You try to control that bastard brat!”  Bronn snapped.

“Fine then.  I was going to send you and take over here but--” Mereoleona lept away in Yami’s direction.  “Good luck.”

The General watched Mereoleona go, insulted. “You Magic Knights must think so little of us to jest so freely.”  He pulled more red ochre up from the earth.  “I’ll rectify that and teach you what a Magic Warrior General is really capable of.”

“Oh, no.”  Bronn assured.  “She wasn’t joking.  She just hates me that much.  I assure you.  There’s no need to go all out and show me anything.  I know you’re scary.”

“Ha!” The General laughed.  “Even the thought of my full power--”

The Shining General fell over.  Bronn felt more of his mana drain away at having portaled three powerful magical attacks from elsewhere on the battlefield, directing them at the Shining General.  The man had been able to sense his portals when they were close; but clearly when opened from a distance that sense was useless.  The General never expected one, let alone three attacks to come at him from behind.  No doubt there would be hell to pay for those Magic Warriors once the General regained consciousness.  Right now, Bronn had some of his own hell to dish out.

Mereoleona landed facing Yami, sending out a blast of fire in a hundred and eighty degree arc behind her.  “What the hell do you think you’re doing! Get back to the line.”  At Yami’s determined expression, Mereoleona’s snapping tone became dangerous.  “I swear, if you challenge me it’ll be the last thing you do.”

Yami growled but did as he was commanded.

“Bunch of Black Bulls idiots.”  Mereoleona muttered.

Seeing Yami strolling sedately back, the Crimson Lions Captain created a fiery lion.  It picked Yami up by the scruff of the neck and raced back behind their lines.

Yami cursed and kicked, swiping his katana at the thing the entire way. It dropped him in front of Tobin as if to tell the other Black Bull that Yami was his problem now.

“It’s a magical creation.”  Tobin said, looking down at his friend.  “You weren’t gonna harm it without cloaking your blade.”

“And have that She-Lion make it snap my neck.  I think not.”  Yami huffed.

“You got a way of pissing people off.”  Tobin remarked.

“I was just going after that coward Whomalt.”  Yami told.

“Don’t know who that is.  Nor do care.”  Tobin said. “You got to learn to obey orders or you won’t live to be promoted to Vice Captain, let alone see Teris again.”

Yami rubbed the back of his neck.  He hoped Teris was having an easier time of it than he was.  In all honesty, Yami was struggling.  This was only the second day; but he already felt at his wits ends. Unlike a battle, the process of war was slow and tedious.

He understood they were meant to be a distraction.  But if they didn’t press harder, the enemy would figure out something was up.  Not to mention the lives that would be lost for nothing.  Still, he did have to do better at following commands; no matter how stupid they were. If he didn’t obey, Mereoleona would put at the back of the line. Then he really would be struggling.  He wouldn’t be able to bare having to stay back and watch while others fought.

Still seated on the ground, Yami looked up at Tobin.  “Why are you back here?”

“Captain Heath is cycling us after a certain time no matter what.”  Tobin answered.

Yami huffed.  “That’s stupid.”

“Actually, I thought it pretty reasonable and smart.”  Tobin said.

Yami leaned forward, forearms on his knees.  “So you cycle through no matter what?  Even if you’re close to knocking or taking out whoever you’re fighting?”

Tobin nodded.  Leave it to Yami to bring up the one point he hadn’t liked about it all.

“Like I said.  Stupid.”  Yami remarked.

“Talking about yourself.”  Bronn snapped, kicking at Yami.

Yami rolled out of the way and onto his knees.  He pushed to his feet. Bronn grabbed him by the back of the neck.  Yami tolerated it, knowing it would go much worse for him if he ducked away this time.

Yami smirked seeing how high Bronn had to reach to grasp him.  His latest grow spurt had seen him taller than the Vice Captain by a good couple of inches.

Seeing Yami’s smug grin, Bronn squeezed harder, pushing him down.  He hated how the little bastard still looked defiantly up at him.  Once, just once Bronn wanted to give Yami Sukehiro a real lesson.

“Bronn! Let him go!”  Mereoleona commanded.

Bronn gave all he had into one last squeeze before doing as ordered.

“You.” She pointed at Tobin.  “Get back out there.”

“But it’s not my turn.”  Tobin said.

“Are all you Black Bulls incapable of following simple commands!” Mereoleona demanded.  “Get back out there!”

Tobin did as he was told, vowing that he wasn’t going to be the one to get into trouble with Captain Heath over this.

Mereoleona turned to Bronn.  “You too.”

“I used nearly all I had--”

“Nearly.” Mereoleona cut in.  “Come back when you’ve used it all.”

Bronn sneered at Yami before heading back to the front of the line.

“What am I going to do with you?”  Mereoleona asked Yami.  “I can see why Jax and Julius like you.  But you’re certainly not one of mine. You’re difficult.  Unpredictable.  And will endanger lives if you go on like this.  I can’t have that.”

“I--”

“Shut up!’  Mereoleona snarled.

Yami clamped his mouth shut knowing what was coming.  But if he argued his case it would only further Mereoleona’s belief that she was right.

“You’re to stay back here until I say otherwise.  Give the others rations. Drink.  Anything they need.  I see you out there before I tell you to go and I’ll send you back to Headquarters in disgrace.  You understand me.”

“Yes, sir.”  Yami grumbled.

Mereoleona softened the slightest bit.  As a fighter herself, she understood Yami’s desire to push harder and not just keep the line.  But those weren’t their orders.

“I don’t do this as punishment.”  She told.  “Not that you don’t deserve one.  I’m doing it for our benefit, including yours.  Learn this lesson quickly and prove to me you can obey.  Who knows, maybe in a day or two I’ll let you back out there.”

“A day or two!”  Yami exclaimed.

“You got a problem with that!”  Mereoleona barked.  What was it with these damned Black Bulls challenging everything?

“Sir.” Yami growled his acceptance, having a very big problem with it.

68.3

Alowishus crumpled the parchment he had just deciphered and read.  He turned, scowling at the skull on the shelf behind his desk; as if it had created this mess that endangered all of his plans.  Looking away from the skull in disgust, Alowishus roared.  “Calen!”

“Master!” Calen entered in a rush ready for anything.  Seeing no threat he relaxed somewhat.  “Yes, Master?”

“Gather the Agents.  Call our nearest forces back.”  Alowishus ordered.

Calen bowed.  “Yes, Master.”

“Have someone else do it.  I want you right back.”  Alowishus told.

Calen bowed once more.  He exited and relayed his Master’s commands, noticing how some of the others looked at him.  Specifically Slade and Himmel who had grown increasingly jealous over his rise in their Master’s favor since Erskin’s death.  Not that Calen cared.  He lived to serve the Master.  Not make friends.  Reentering Alowishus’ private sanctuary, Calen bowed once more and waited, watching his Master pace.

“Those fools!”  Alowishus threw out a hand, a fast rolling black cloud left his fingertips.  It hit a wooden cabinet and the stone wall behind it.

Calen flinched as both turned to ash.  At the shift in weight, the stone above the missing section cracked.  The sound a loud echoing clap of thunder.

It was rare to see Alowishus use his true, natural magic.  The remnant of magic that remained in the anatomy he replaced via corpse magic offered him enough power that he rarely needed to.  There was also the fact that Alowishus’ death magic was an omega force that was both powerful and permanent.

If the wall and furniture had been a human, even one with a full mana cloak, they would’ve been reduced to the same pile of dust.  Just being around Alowishus while he was cloaked in mana would slowly wither and decay a person.  Calen had no idea how Julius Nova had managed to battle the Master for as long as he had without showing signs of ill effect.

“That prideful child of a King has declared war against the Diamond Kingdom.”  Alowishus explained, turning to Calen.  “And that weak fool Sir Jorah has done nothing to stop it.  Yami and Teris have been sent to war.  Our hope for the next existence is in danger.”

Calen blinked, horrified.  Unlike his predecessor, he was careful to show Alowishus’ wife the respect she was due, at least when in front of the Master.

Carefully, Calen questioned.  “Lady Ellara could not effect the King or Wizard King to change their minds or end their life?”

“You think she wouldn’t have done so if she had the chance?  I told her to be careful.  Not to take any unnecessary risks.  She must remain above suspicion.  Her being present to oversee the next steps leading up to Yami’s time are of vital importance.”

“But that means nothing if they die while fighting some war.”  Calen said, emotion getting the better of him.

“Which is why she took the risk to send a letter informing me.”  Alowishus said, dangerously.

Hearing his Master's temper, Calen lowered his head.  “Of course, Master. I meant no disrespect to the esteemed Lady Ellara.”

It would serve no purpose to become cross with the man, Alowishus thought.  He was a hard enough taskmaster as it was.  The promise he had sold these fools would see his own aims met.  But for that, he had to play the part.

“I know you didn’t.  The situation is a disturbing one.”  Alowishus said, truthfully.

“If I may ask, what do you plan to do?”

“Send teams to guard Yami and Teris from afar.  And pay a personal visit to King Morris.”

“But, Master!  The last time you and Morris King saw one another he said he would kill you on sight.”

Alowishus laughed bitterly.  “Do you truly believe Morris or anyone else on this earth is capable of killing Death?”

“N—no.” Calen answered, afraid he had insulted his Master.

“You show your care for me in worrying so.  But you also show how little you think of your Master.”

“Master! I would never--”

“It’s alright.  I will soon show you what Death is truly capable of.  And if Morris challenges me, then you will see a glimpse all the sooner.”

******PLEASE READ******Next chapter WARNING******

There is an assault scene next chapter with the intention of sexual assault and rape.   Neither sexual assault or rape happen but I know such things can be upsetting for people.  If anyone would like me to mark the scene so they can skip it please comment or message me.   Doing a format edit for this would take some time since my wp and ao3 don't speak the same language which is why I'm not doing it right off the bat (and all my updates happen there first).  But I have no problem doing it if someone needs me to.

Thank you to those who have left hearts.  And a special THANK YOU to those who have recently left comments or re-blogged. They really mean a lot.

Next chapter snippet:

Fuegoleon looked up at Beast refusing to be intimated.  The name, though not creative, suited the man.  Beast had to be nearly seven feet tall. He was built like a mountain, his muscles seeming to have muscles. Though Fuegoleon had seen a number of men who were bigger than Tobin Giantsbane and Yami Sukehiro, he had never seen a person that made the two Black Bulls seem small.  Till now.

#yami sukehiro #nozel silva #fuegoleon vermillion #mereoleona vermillion #zara ideale #randall luftair #Black Clover #light in the darkness

[thedreamingscorpio]

Undulations

Chapter 2

Well I think it goes without saying but in case I wasn’t clear earlier:

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author of this story. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any previously copyrighted material. No copyright infringement is intended. 

Thank You, please lemme know your thoughts on my work!

Love Always!

Time had gone by in a whirlwind, with Goten finding some warm clothes for his company, making some tea and gathering the necessary tools and supplies. While the whole time the young woman had only exchanged common courtesies whenever Goten would bring her something, which they were done with in the first ten minutes of her arrival.

Despite the ruckus that he had created, the house was quiet, almost too quiet. 

Case in a nut shell, the last twenty minutes saw the three occupants of the house to, in Goten’s case grow increasingly curious and observant, the woman’s gaze to get lost in the depths of infinity, and for well, Cepheus to become more irritable with each passing minute.

Goten had finally found his cauterizer. It was kept in his store room since he hadn’t had to use it in quite sometime now, it was the one he used previously, and since getting a new one he kept it at home in case of an emergency. He didn’t think that he’ll be requiring it today, given the bored and irritated expression that marked his patient’s face. But that was the thing, the dog although one of his most frequent patients, still managed to throw him for a loop with his seemingly impenetrable expression, the same ‘the hell do you care ’ expression adorned his face, be it an ingrown nail or a gaping wound. 

It seemed as though if given the chance to converse akin to a human being, he’d list all the complaints in the world and manage to find a fault with even the most perfect of things.

Well in reality Goten himself never really believed in the concept that the word 'perfect' embodied, in his opinion nothing was completely flawless, it was just the mere coincidence, that if what one sought was what the other provided, the two pieces seemed to fit together, therefore creating the illusion of what people called 'perfect’. And of course,  he was familiar with the universal use of 'perfect’ and came to the conclusion, that there are certain things people perceive as desirable universally, like symmetry for one, and that’s okay, but to then announce that the person or the object is utterly flawless was a bit absurd in his opinion.

But then again, was it his need to rationalize everything, or his general dislike for the word, he didn’t know, perhaps he’d heard it too many times in his lifetime as a constant reminder to know exactly what he wasn’t, eh no point dwelling over things that bring a sour taste to your mouth…

Though that still lead him to think, that if people’s version of 'perfection’ was so hard to come by, almost everyone did settle for something less, like 'good’ or even 'great’ at times. 'Cause unlike 'perfection' , Goten knew for a fact that those things existed and that they weren’t half bad, in fact, despite the irony of his thought-process, those 'good’ or 'great’ may even be somebody’s version of 'perfect’!

So, why the hell did Cepheus, have that rotten expression on his face, no matter what hour of the day it might be! He really failed to understand how an baby animal could prove to be much more difficult to deal with than an adult human being. Weren’t animals supposed to be nicer?

 Every time he happened to meet him, it appeared as though he were mocking, challenging him to do something, anything to change the opinion his little underdeveloped mind had conjured up of him. Oh and how Goten hated it!

Moreover what really worried him was the state of the young woman currently sitting on his couch. Empty tea cup held in hands, as if it were a life-saver, determinedly staring straight ahead unblinking, it was a miracle how the wall didn’t have a hole burned through it. It was her reaction that had told Goten to be prepared for anything and everything, and he was glad to have found his cauterizer.

Now with all the necessary tasks out of the way, he went to the kitchen to fetch his cup of tea…only to realize it had gone cold. 

“Ah shit!" 

Now Goten wasn’t a person for whom cursing was a regular occurrence, also given the fact that he was in the presence of one of his patients, it was highly unprofessional of him. So, instinctively as soon as he realized he had cursed out loud, he immediately regretted it and his eyes darted towards the couch. But noticing that the house was still eerily quiet, and that his slip-up had gone unnoticed, his more pressing concern was to talk to the woman as soon as possible.

That’s how he found himself  in the kitchen reheating his long forgotten chamomile tea, while silently mulling over how strange the whole incident was! The woman’s features weren’t lost on him, the way her green eyes looked at him, flipped his stomach.

She reminded him of someone, someone he could never forget, the girl from his early days with his reputation as a womanizer, the only girl he had been silly and pretend-serious with, the only girl he could be anyone with, yet she still wouldn’t forget his name, the girl who had made him realize that although fun, that wasn’t the life he wanted, the girl who had seen him transition from a technical adult to behaving like an actual adult, the girl who’s heart he had broken, by telling her it wasn’t her, it was him…Valese.

Valese had brown eyes, with a tinge of green, not quite hazel, no, but not quite brown either, her chestnut hair cinched at her waist, making her seem incredibly gorgeous, her pale skin contrasting against her dark features, her plum lips always chewing a strawberry flavored gum, and the way she spoke his name, blinking her large eyes at him, always managed to melt him.

So, then why did he leave her you ask? 

Well, the answer was simple really, or complete bullshit depending on who you are, she was too easy. From the moment he’d met her she was googly-eyed, and was willing to put up with his every whim, without batting an eyelash. She acted as though star-struck, which although boosted his ego, did not make him feel good in the long run.

People, be it family, friends, passersby or even young kids seemed to adore them, and on one occasion Trunks told them that they were even compatible when it came to  their level of intellect, Valese had just laughed it off, yeah she was like that, but Goten seemed to take it a bit more seriously. Of course, it was to be taken light-heartedly, but it did make him question, was he her king and they the world’s laughing stock?

He knew that she was a bit ditzy he did, but that never bothered him, she was beside him in almost all he did, gave him the confidence to pursue his career as a vet, and was beside him through all his embarrassing phases while he figured himself out. The best thing about her she was always smiling, rain, shine or thunder, she kept her smile on and the only time he had ever seen her cry was when he ended his relationship with her, he had never seen her look so...broken, but he supposed it was for the best given that he was subjecting himself to an insane amount of study, and to be honest, he was afraid.

Afraid, that he may take her shine away, as ridiculous as it may sound to anyone else, he knows he was right in his decision.

So, when the brunette had shown up at his doorstep in the wee hours of the morning, with the most troublesome patient he had ever come across, he was feeling a lot of feelings, but above all he was confused. Why was this happening? Was it all a coincidence? And if not, why so many years later?

Now that his tea was hot enough to be consumed, he made his way towards the living room where the as of now unknown woman and Cepheus, sat looking just like they were, about twenty minutes earlier

He grabbed himself a chair from the dining table, not wanting to get comfortable on the couch just yet, and knowing Cepheus, ready to entertain him at a moments notice.

The scraping of the chair’s legs against the floor wood seemed to snap her out of her reverie, and she gave him the same frightened look as earlier in the morning.

She quickly got off the couch, and started exclaiming animatedly.

"Dr. Son, my apologies, I know this isn’t by any means the right time to have disturbed you, hell I did not even give you a call, or notify you of my arrival, but the thing is that it was an emergency…”

Noticing how she was panting and red-faced again, he decided to cut her off..

“Please, call me Goten. I’m off-duty and these aren’t my working hours..”

At this, the woman gave him an abashed look and hung her head low.

Noticing this he quickly amended..

“…not that I mind in the least, after all I am a doctor and if I’m not available to my patients when they need me, what good am I?”

At this, the woman, lifted her head so fast he was afraid she had snapped something vital, and gave him a disbelieving look, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears .

He held a calm composure and gave her a reassuring smile. Noticing this her features softened and a small smile tugged at her lips.

“Please take a seat, calm yourself and talk to me so that I’m capable of helping you.”

Slightly nodding her head, apparently still shaken, she sat down waking Cepheus, who was seemingly comfortable nestled into her arms resulting in him growling slightly.

Taking a deep breath, she attempted to compose herself and looked up with twinkling eyes.

“Let me start by introducing myself, I’m Odette…”

#son goten #goten #dimension #chichi #goku #dbz #dragonball #robot #saiyan #love #unrequited feelings #HOM #submission #Undulations #oc x canon #oc #original character #Avni writes

[suchplausibilities]

supercorp + medieval au or theme park au 👀💕

Don’t think I don’t know this was a Trap to do a Merlin/Supergirl fusion bianca. I do. but i have too many feelings about both of them and am not prepared for the inevitable implosion of emotion when the combine. 

SO. Since last time i went to a theme park I spent the entire time dizzy and nauseous and therefore have bad feelings, I’m counting on your kind heart to allow me to slightly alter the timeline, and instead of doing a medieval AU, doing a Renaissance AU. Cool? Cool.

This fic would be called Open to Interpretation*, and would be forever long because I am physically incapable of shutting up. Lemme outline it for you (or give you the entire plot of the first half of the story): 

Kara D’Anversa, the youngest daughter of a peasant class woodworker (originally Kara Zolea, daughter of a prominent traveling merchant), is nearly twenty when she decides what her course in life should be. She’s always been a thinker; the type to spend swaths of time in the field near her family’s cottage, taking detailed notes about the insects and animals and vegetation to better understand the whys behind their design. The way their aesthetics play into their function fascinates her in a very unique way. Her parents and sister - thinkers themselves, though in different ways - are happy to indulge her passion in any way they can, as they’re very aware that the older she gets, the less freedom she’ll have to be vibrant and brilliant and herself. If this means that half of most meals consist of the meaning of the color patterns of certain types of insects, then so be it.

(For the record: Alex knows a lot about leaves, now. A lot.)

When Jeremiah begins to notice the sketches starting to accompany her notes, he gets an idea. Kara receives her first book on techniques for crafting paint and canvas when she’s fifteen. Within  three years, she has a total of six books related to painting and artistry.

When Alex is nearly twenty-five, her parents begin to discuss marriage. They’ve been receiving offers for years - unusual for the peasant class, given that poorer families usually required the help of their children for a larger portion of their youth, which also had the advantage of helping fathers to scrape together bigger dowries - but have neglected to give them any attention at all, given her age, their need for assistance in crafting and running the shop, and their desire to delay the inevitable for as long as possible, after they noticed that, even though she put forth a brave face, the idea of having a husband made Alex noticeably distressed. Now, though, she’s beginning to get offers from families known to be both kind and financially secure, and they’re afraid that, given her age, waiting would mean risking both her happiness and her future. Alex is both understanding and miserable.

The night that Jeremiah and Eliza tell Alex that they’ve narrowed it down to two men, and will likely have a deal by the end of the week, Kara spends the entire night in Alex’s bed, comforting and crying and laughing and just talking. It’s nearly dawn when Alex tells her to go. At Kara’s confused questions, Alex finally smacks her lightly on the back of her head, and tells her to stop being dense. She’s been talking about exploring and painting different parts of the country, finally finding a person whose portrait she finds interesting enough to paint, and meeting famous artists and being tutored by them for literal years. It’s time to shut up about it and finally go do it. 

Kara’s understandably taken aback by this - um, she’s a woman near marrying age living under the feudal system. How in the heck would she even manage that?? Alex gives her money she’s been saving since she was Kara’s age (her dad was kind enough to let her take a cut from some of the jobs they completed together), meant to be her back-up plan if her parents were strong-armed into accepting the one of the proposals from the various jerks asking for her hand, and tells Kara that she’s smart enough to figure out the rest. 

Kara leaves the next day. 

Only, here’s the problem: She’s been reading and hearing about various artists for years now, and most of them have one thing in common: they’re stationed in Florence. That’s hella far to travel, considering that she lives in the Kingdom of Naples, in the province of Ultra, which doesn’t even have the decency to be near the Northern border - it’s dead up in the middle. That’s not even mentioning the fact that she’s a beautiful technically-still-teenager, traveling alone.

Furthermore, she’s not ignorant of her circumstances. There aren’t many artists that would be willing to take on a female pupil. She’s heard quite a bit about the personalities of several of them, and from what she can tell, that there are just a few that would even possibly maybe consider that. And, given that she’s risking everything for this, she’s not willing to settle on who she would like to learn from. If she’s going to do this, she’s going big. So, she decides to seek out the artist that most inspires her, to the point that the chance of learning from him is totally worth risking her life and future: Leonardo da Vinci.

During her harrowing trip to Florence (which involves lots of running, hiding, kind strangers with familiar names that are more than willing to help, and - naturally - punching of gross dudes), a few more hiccups in her plan begin to emerge. Firstly, she learns that da Vinci may be from Florence, and he may frequently stay there, but he definitely doesn’t live there. In fact, one thing that didn’t make it into her books or the stories she was told was that he is constantly traveling. He’s considered one of the greatest artists of his time, and is, therefore, frequently commissioned to work for rulers and nobles all over Europe. So, even if she makes it to Florence, there is a very good chance that she’ll never actually meet him.

Secondly, da Vinci’s willingness to tutor talented artists that wish to improve means that he already has quite a few pupils, assistants, and potential protégés that travel with him. Even if he was willing to take on one more artist, the fact remains that she is a woman. Her gender might not matter to him, but it’s unlikely that all of his students will share his feelings, which could potentially be a serious roadblock.

Naturally, though, Kara ignores the odds and keeps going. Even if he’s not in Florence, he’s a big enough name that she can probably still find him, and she’s willing to do whatever it takes. And, as far as his students go? Let’s just assume there’s a 16th century Italian equivalent to ‘screw those guys,’ and that Kara thought it very loudly. 

Finally, two and a half years after leaving home, Kara arrives in Florence. Is she poor and tired? Yes. Is she also resourceful and unshakably determined? Absolutely. So, after she manages to secure temporary housing and an underpaying job willing to employ women on the down low, she starts asking around about da Vinci. Reports are contradictory, but she finally manages to speak to a reliable source that is absolutely sure that he’s in France, having been befriended, commissioned, and housed by the King, Francis I. With some effort, she finds the name of the town he’s settled down in: Amboise. 

Nearly three years later, she arrives in Amboise. It reminds her of her village, because, although it’s slightly larger, it’s still small enough to be very close-knit. It doesn’t surprise her, then, that when people learn where she’s from and why she’s there, they’re slightly standoffish. What does surprise her is that, even when they realize her persistence, they’re entirely unwilling to even confirm or deny da Vinci’s presence, and continue to suggest that she look to expand her art knowledge elsewhere. 

Finally, a local baker that she’s managed to befriend in the short time she’s been in town tells her that she’s asking the wrong questions. He tells her to head towards the eastern edge of town, and ask for Luciano. 

Asking for this Luciano goes well - right up until the moment she explains why she wants to meet him and triggers the same brick wall she had before. She learns very quickly to keep it vague and let people draw their own conclusions about her reasons, which pays off well. Luciano Michelini, she learns, is a close friend and apprentice of Leonardo da Vinci. da Vinci, by this time, is elderly, and suffers from a crippling of his hand that has essentially stopped him from creating anything new. As a result, Michelini handles all requests for pieces, deliveries of purchases, and correspondence with those seeking guidance on artistic and engineering projects. Unlike da Vinci, Michelini is often seen about town, and the locals know him well. 

After hearing all of this, Kara makes the painful decision to end her quest here. Bothering an old man so crippled that he barely leaves his home seems excessive and unkind, which is unacceptable, no matter how much it would mean to her to meet and learn from him. She’s disappointed, but there are other ways to improve in her artistry that don’t involve harassing the elderly. So, instead of seeking out a meeting with Michelini, she gathers her things a prepares herself to return to Florence.

…Which is, of course, when Michelini finds her. 

See, the town is even more tight knit than Kara realized, and word had been passed around about the strange girl wanting to become a pupil of Leonardo da Vinci since the day she arrived. The baker (who truly had become fond of Kara), had been instructed by Luciano himself to point her his way. When they finally met, he explained that he preferred for his first impressions to be from a distance. He liked having the upper hand in a first meeting. da Vinci’s fame meant that it was important to know the type of person he was dealing with. 

This does not annoy Kara as might have in other situations. Instead, she finds this man endlessly intriguing. Soon, she’s telling the tale of her long journey here, showing him her paintings, and getting a much clearer picture of what type of person would be able to get so close to someone like da Vinci. Before she knows it, Michelini is helping her to gather her things and leading her to the Château of Cloux - Leonardo da Vinci’s estate. 

On the way, she learns a few things: Firstly, Luciano Michelini is not a painter. Unlike most that sought out tutelage from da Vinci, his desire was to be educated in the complex science of mechanics and engineering. Michelini saw the structures and machinery of the day and just thought that they could do better. There was so much more that man could do, and there was no one better than Leonardo to help him to learn how to make real, permanent advances.

Secondly, he met da Vinci in Milan, when he was 18 - eight years ago, now. He’d had many pupils when Michelini first began following da Vinci, but he was now the only one, and had been for several years. Luciano credits these years as ones that gave his life real meaning.

Once they’ve arrived at the expansive château and have taken up residence in the sitting room, though, a few more (fairly vital) pieces of information are shared.

For example: Leonardo da Vinci, Luciano explains calmly, has been dead for nearly six months. Kara’s silent shock ends up very convenient, in that it allows Luciano to explain without protest:

A little over a year ago, Leonardo contracted a mild illness, expected to resolve itself within a few days. A few weeks later, he was entirely bedridden, and stayed that way for months, before finally dying. Luciano, who had long since considered the man his father, was his primary caregiver, and therefore spent hours upon hours hearing stories of his past, ideas that struck him suddenly, and his regrets. 

On his deathbed, Leonardo had shared that his greatest regret, by far, was that he had not carried out his works to the extent he should have, and had therefore failed God and accomplished no real change. This affected Luciano deeply, as he’d never met a greater man in his life. So, as Leonardo lived out his last few hours, Luciano came up with a plan that would prove to an even definitively how great Leonardo da Vinci truly was. 

With the blessing of King Francis I, and a vow from those that lived in Amboise (a town that was very unique in that very few people moved in, and just as few moved out) to stay mum, Luciano kept da Vinci’s death a secret, abandoned his own projects, and set to work building - and, where possible, implementing - many of the inventions da Vinci had detailed in his notebooks. The king had granted Luciano two years to bring to life as many projects as he could before da Vinci’s death was officially announced, at which point they would be revealed and demonstrated so that all of Europe had a much clearer understanding of how much da Vinci had - and could have, if he’d had more time - affected their lives. It wasn’t enough, Luciano admitted, but it was something, and the least of what da Vinci deserved.

When Kara finally digests this news, she asks the first question that pops into her head: Why was she - an outsider with no affection for da Vinci, outside of the impersonal kind she’d developed from hearing about and occasionally seeing his work -let in on such a huge secret?

“You’re exactly the type of artist he would have taken as a student without hesitation. The type of unique fortitude combined with the level of skill you possess is very rare. You have a very sharp eye. He’d have never passed up on the opportunity to teach you. I can’t introduce you to him, but I can show you things of his that might help guide you. 

“To be entirely, honest, though, my ego wasn’t entirely uninvolved in the decision. You remind me of myself.” 

“Because of my passion and determination?” 

“Maybe a little, but those traits are more common than you think. I was more referring to how we’re both women that went through great lengths to avoid having to give up our entire selves to better fit into our assigned roles.” 

“…uh, yeah. That’s… similar.”

(Kara gets the full story the next day, when she’s less overwhelmingly stupefied: 

Lena Lovatti was the daughter of Lorenzo Lovatti, one of the richest men in Milan. He was also one of the most feared. Though he was far from poor, he sought out ways to climb even further in the ranks of the nobility, and ultimately managed to gain much more wealth by acting as a spy for the French, a successful venture that ultimately helped them to overthrow the existing dynasty in Milan and take power there. Given his wealth and the protection he received from the Milan’s new French rulers, he was practically untouchable. This was a good thing, because he was also largely hated by the locals for his treason. 

This little hiccup meant that Lorenzo had only recently found a suitable suitor for Lena, who’d just turned 18. Lena was in the process of finding a way out of that situation (and that house) when her father requested that Leonardo da Vinci, one of the most famous artists of the time, come visit their estate to discuss the possibility of Leonardo completing a piece for Lorenzo. 

da Vinci ultimately declined, but during the visit, he caught Lena - who’d retreated to the study after dinner - sketching the design for a machine she was thinking up. Impressed, he convinced her to show him other ideas she’d come up with. When he mentioned that he would love the chance to guide her and help her to better her understanding of the natural forces at play that would determine the effectiveness of her inventions, she laughed, asking him not to feed her impossible dreams. She was a Woman, after all. Leonardo clearly didn’t care about her gender, but wasn’t ignorant of the challenges they would both face if a upper class woman joined him in his travels. He didn’t give up, though. After a brief silence, he asked, “Tell me: Would you be especially opposed to hosiery, or are you too attached to the bodice?”

Two weeks later, Lena Lovatti’s strange disappearance was clarified by her family: She’d run away and joined a convent. 

Three years later, the French were overthrown in Milan, and its former dynasty once again took power.)

The epilogue (wtf is wrong with me) would involve an episode of Fox and Friends, wherein they discuss the recent discovery of letters and portrait sketches that would suggest that Leonardo da Vinci’s most prominent pupil and inheritor of his estate was most likely a woman. The implications of this were even more astounding, as said pupil was married to the woman who, just a decade ago, been identified as the artist behind a nom de plume that had been used on several paintings now considered to be priceless.

The segment’s a complete cyclone of insane garbage, but this is what becomes everyone’s favorite soundbite: 

“This is just the most ridiculous – I mean, god. They got the bathrooms, they got the marriage, they got into congress - how much more gay do we need? Are we rewriting the constitution next? ‘We hold these truths to be self evident, that all men are created fabulous.’?”

*lol good try, past Erin. That is not its name.

#this took so much research #i hope it was worth it #inaccuracy in historical writing is my kryptonite #by which i mean it kills me slowly and cruelly #hahaha outline right? #in which erin once again fails to chill #ps d'anversa is a real last name common to that area i didnt make it up #but i WAS tickled pink #pps the idiot at the end is not quoting the constitution #pippytmi #writing memes #my writing #kara and lena #bianca #supergirl

[cmfrtlvls]

Brian Alexander Dahlems

1993 Born in Germany, left to Singapore at 13 Outgrowing Germany

I was born in one culture, the German culture. And when I came to Singapore I basically just finished my childhood. I wasn’t so attached to school, my friends. I was just getting aware of like “ah this is the place I live at!” That’s the time when we moved to Singapore. It was a crucial time.

13 in 2006 it is exactly the right time to move.

Was not so attached to anything, was just getting aware of others, places and people. It was the time I was figuring out "Who am I”

I wasn’t really happy in Germany and so I was really happy to come to Singapore to see something new. That’s when I got to know the international culture in Singapore which I find is completely different to the Singaporean culture itself.

Do you like Singaporean culture?

I grew up in this international environment in my school. With these kids but not many Singaporeans. Beside that, in where I stayed in Bukit Timah, I got to know some people around the neighbourhood and got to know the real Singapore as well. I got to meet the people who goes to Hawker for breakfast!

For the international culture it is always entered around the city district, the tourist areas. We are always in Sentosa and East coast, I doubt any of my classmates has seen Woodlands area nor Boon Lay or Choa Chu Kang area because there is nothing for them to see there. That’s the other part of Singapore which I appreciate, next to the whole touristy side.

Do you feel like you fit into the Singaporean culture more or the International/German culture? Generally the Asian people would look up to white people, as a upper class or a gem...

When I’m in the Singaporean Culture itself I’m quickly perceived as I come from the international culture in Singapore. Which is good because I want to be associated to “Ahh he is coming from the German culture” “Oh he is just a tourist” I don’t want to be seen as, I rather be seen as “Oh yeah he lives in Singapore even though in a different social group.” I would rather have that because I feel more at home at that, even though I am not quickly accepted in that actual Singaporean culture. That takes a little bit longer, more time to get used to an Ang Moh.

When he first came to Singapore in 2006, they are still new to accepting foreign people.

Now everyone is from everywhere.

I realised a couple of days ago when I’m staying in a HDB with a friend, people who were at the hawker they were looking, as if I took the wrong bus or something, or "why is he here?!” Now after a couple of days they realised that I must be staying somewhere nearby, like it’s nothing special anymore. They just get used to you after 2-3days.

How do you feel when people look into your Nationality?

I wouldn’t be embarrassed. I’m annoyed if someone looks at me and thinks “Ah! German!”

Because that annoys me a lot, even in Germany! I only lived in Germany until I was 13. I’m almost twice that age now. I was not defined as a proper German since I left the country at 13.

By now half my life, I’m annoyed by Germany. That’s why I’m so happy about my parents wanting to go overseas because they have always wanted to live abroad, especially my dad.

That’s why my parents gave me my double name as well. My full name is Brian Alexander Dahlems. Which is one English one German. If I ever decide “Oh I want to be German” I could just be Alexander and I could fit into the German community.

Alexander (pronounced “ Ah-Lex-Xan-Der” ) is a very common name in Germany. It is nothing special, where else “Brian”? Even in Germany people would regularly ask me “Oh are you British? Or American? Or half something”  That’s when I can always tell them “Ah, I am from Germany but not really from Germany. It is complicated.” It is always a very good ice breaker in a conversation. So when people asked “Ah where are you from? America or something” I would say “No I come from Germany but I just came from this small city” “Ah, but you never lived overseas” “Ah, actually I lived in Singapore for 7 years but that has nothing got to do with my name.” And thats how the conversation always starts.

“Dahlems” is also very german, I would rather drop that too. My ultimate goal is when they get introduced to me, I don’t want them to have any stereotypical ideas about me. Even with the name “Brian” I can be seen as American, British, just want to be a well rounded international person. I don’t like people connecting me to some stereotype.

What’s a stereotype about German people that you can think of?

I think the stereotype about Germany is that logical, on time, I follow the rules (“I stop at the red light!” Even when there are no cars around) Germany put rules in place so that they don’t have to think. That makes life easier for them, sometimes it’s good but it keeps them from changing to improve themselves. Which is really stupid, that’s why I also decided in my studies I don’t want to go into car industry for example. Because every mechanic engineer wants to go into the car industry. The car industry in Germany you have no more creativity, you have no more problems to solve with creativity. I want to be able to say “Ah I can find another solution to solve this problem.” Everything has rules now, by the books, to be regulated, etc. I find this absolutely annoying.

I also heard another stereotypes that Germans have which are not true at all. Not all Germans drink beer all the time and eat sausage all day.

Especially the punctuality thing, I have not seen it. I’m punctual but I have never met a German that is punctual. It could be a character trait that someone would have, but that’s not the stereotype.

There is a term called “Verplant” (Pronounced “Fla-Plan”) They make too many plans so they get mixed up with their schedule. They will say yes to making plans, will confirm, and then half an hour before the scheduled plan they will cancel because they have made a different plan. And they didn’t know, they forgot about it.

A lot of times I can see that a lot of people are “Verplant” and on the other side people are always looking for an upgrade. They would say that they would want to come along, but as soon as they find something that fits them better they don’t mind cancelling on you. They don’t stay true to their words. So that’s Germans to you.

What’s your current advantage right now?

No one in Singapore ever expects me to fit in. Because people say “Brian he does stuff differently because he learns differently.” I realised I don’t need to fit into a group. I’m fine being the odd one out. That helped me in Singapore because here it can be seen as something positive. Being the odd one out.

In Germany it is very negative. Singapore helped me to build this confidence in myself.

I was a different person in Germany, I was not confident at all, although I was individualistic. My parents raised me to be myself first, that gave me a lot of problems in Germany because I could not fit into any group. I got picked on, bullied, I had no friends in Germany.

They mock me, they would have inside jokes that I can’t be a part of because most of the kids have playstation, computer games, they always stayed in play computer games sometimes together. I was the kid where as soon as the suns comes up, I’m outside, cycling or some outdoors activity. I never joined in with them of course and therefore there isn’t much connection with the kids.

All of a sudden when I came here within half a year, I was the coolest kid because I was the odd one out, which I never thought it would happen! It’s not like I am the cool kid instead of everyone else, everyone in my class was different. So we all had something to share to learn from each other.

What if’s possibilities.

If I would have known that if I have to go back to Germany for my education, I would have done the same school system. I wouldn’t have gone into the International school system that I did. I had a chance in 7th grade to go to the international school system or to stay in the German system. If I would have known then that I would go back to Germany to go study at a university I would have stayed in the German system. Because I would have learn everything in German I wouldn’t have had to improve my German once I come back. I had a bit of struggle, luckily my course is very heavy on mathematics. Still, I realise that the German that I studied coming back from Singapore was all based on poetries and literatures. It wasn’t focused on the daily communication like going to the supermarket, getting food, I lost all of that in 7 years because I never practiced. I would have practice this kind of conversational German if I would have stayed in the German system too.

I only had 3 German classmates out of all 60 of our age range. Everyone spoke something different. My dad was the administration manager of the German International School, that’s why I could go into that school.

Where do you feel most at home?

I know that I definitely don’t belong in the German culture and I’m not a true part of the Singaporean culture. I feel most at home just being in the International culture. Like being in New York example it’s very big and vast. So I would feel at home almost anywhere as long it’s like a bigger city with an international surrounding. It’s good because I am not planning to settle down yet. I have a chance to go out in the world and find my culture that are different.

What is your plan for the next 5 years?

Third culture kids plan differently. We plan with the entire world within you.

In 5 years I want to stay in Singapore for 5 years and I want to be in another country that I have chosen as I want to speak one more language. It’s really in no connection to what Germans would say or a Singaporean would say, rig

Why do you not want to live where you are right now?

Because people here have their certain way of life, you go to kindergarten, school, high school, then you go uni, get apprenticeship, get a girlfriend, you get married, get a house, you have a job, you work in that, and then you finish. For the people who are living here and want to live here seem so straight forward. Since I throw something odd in these mix, it’s like “Hey! Lets have a multi cultural relationship of multi cultural people with each one of us living in completely different parts of the world, and we also want to leave the country and speak 2 languages as mother tongue which puts more things into my head. There’s so many more open doors." So I am afraid of closing the right ones, and closing the wrong ones.

I thought by the time I am 26 I would have left Germany. For GOOD. And that I will be starting for my further education. I have made a good start but it seems small in comparison to what I intended I’m not comparing myself to others but I am setting my own standards.

#Third Culture Kid #culture #cultureshock #comfort #discomfort #international #illustration #portrait #singapore #germany #verplant #languages

[theveryworstthing]

(pounding fists on table) fashion, fashion, fashion, faSHION FASHION...

it is time to release the fruits of my patreon sponsored Dwarf Week to gen pop. the theme was the long awaited history of dwarven punk (furthermore known as Lunk) and woo did it become A Lot. music genres and fashion movements don’t just come from nowhere and transplanting a human genre that started from specific human times and sensibilities onto another race without thinking about why a thing ain’t my style. so! i’m gonna give you a nice chunky lore post and follow it up with some posts about Notable Lunk Ladies.  let’s begin.

A Long Short History of Lunk To really talk about Lunk we gotta talk about the rebellion. And to talk about the rebellion we gotta talk about the flood in the Mander Drop cave system.

Two Disasters. - The Mander Drop cave system was fairly small  as dwarven cities go. It was also very remote, and as far as top-sider territories are concerned, outside of the Woods. So when a devastating flood/cave-in combo forced  survivors up to the surface they found themselves in the human kingdom of Luxterra, and therefore on the land of the recently appointed King Regiis The 27th. For a while this seemed like good luck. The king welcomed the refugees in and happily provided them with housing and food. How could they be anything but helpful to the first dwarves seen in Luxterra for generations? Especially since, whether they knew it or not,  the royal borders made it so that these were clearly their people? Their brethren? It was just too bad about all the blasphemy. The King and his religious advisers all agreed that they’d have to do something about that if their newly discovered people were to be Saved with the rest.

Now religion can be a force for love and safety and a link to important cultural heritage. But also. You know. Sometimes it sucks. Rolism, which is what Luxterra had recently adopted as their primary and only religion, sucked. The Incomparably Holy And Absolutely Complete Sapient Bestiaries was a collection of books written by a young failed anthropologist/failed fantasy writer/failed(eventually successful?) cult leader  with an unchecked ego and a down right girthy god complex named Sir Adam Brightcrown (real name:Rod Flaff). They were said to contain the true and holy roles of every sapient being barring demons, who were  not in the books outside of mentions of general badguy behavior and their penchant for the perversion of nature. The series was barely older than the current king himself and had flown completely under the radar until the former king Regiis The 26th, received the books as joke gifts and  got way into them. Like, into them enough to abolish all mentions or practice of any other religions in Luxterra and turn the church over to the author of the Bestiaries/voice of god, Sir Adam.

The Mander Drop dwarves did not act the way dwarves were described in the Bestiaries (a common theme for any race described in the Bestiaries). They thought themselves all women, even as they wore long beards! There was no gleam of avarice in their eyes when they walked past the golden ornaments hanging throughout the royal gardens! They weren’t even violently rowdy alcoholics!

Scandal.

It couldn’t just be that they were survivors of a horrible disaster reeling from the loss of their homes and families as they tried to be polite to human hosts who knew next to nothing about their actual culture.

No, they had to have been Changed. Touched by demonic forces that all Good People knew lurked beyond their righteous borders.

But they would surely come around with a little instruction and the church got to it right away, sending their missionaries into the hospitals and dwarven camps to spread the word. But the word did not spread as easily as they would have liked. The word was kinda chunky. The dwarves were very set in their ways and the loss of their home had made them very touchy about altering their traditions too much. So after enough badgering, the remaining Elders decided that maybe it was best to leave Luxterra as soon as their wounded could be moved and take their chances in The Woods. They even went so far as to tell the royal council that they did not see themselves as true Luxterrans and so felt that they should not be beholden to certain church guidelines. The King took this pretty well and told them that he would respect their wishes and support any decision they made. So a few weeks later, when everyone who hadn’t passed was stable enough to ride with a caravan, they sent messengers out with pleas for help to other cave systems.

They never saw those messengers again.

A freak flash fire broke out in the dwarven camp that evening. All of the Elders and the adults most resistant to the church’s advances  mysteriously did not make any moves to escape as they were burned to death in the meeting tent. Most of the possessions and goods salvaged from the Mander Drop caves were also reduced to ash . In the end, all that was left were a few resilient trinkets and a vast amount of mostly orphaned dwarven youth that had luckily been away at the time. The king’s detectives declared that it probably was and accident, but the remaining dwarves should move to the land behind the royal monastery for a while just to make sure it wasn’t something more…unsavory.  And so the survivors were put under absolute royal protection. Which meant  a settlement furnished with everything the holy books said that a dwarf could want, entry into St. Adam’s Rolism School for the young ones, round the clock guards to ensure safety standards were met, and many other…perks.

All the king asked for in return is that they work the mines to repay him for his generosity. Since they were not actually Luxterran citizens, they could only receive a certain amount of aide without incurring debt from their hosts, and that line had been crossed long ago. But no worries! Once their debt was repayed and they felt stable enough, they could leave with the kingdom’s support and blessings.

House Arrest- The dwarves had a bad feeling about this whole deal, but weren’t exactly in a position to refuse. The initial agreement to pay for the  refugees room and board  looked completely fair despite their awful feelings toward it but like everything else in their situation, it sucked.   Hidden, vague stipulations in confusing foreign languages and weird time frames made them inescapable. The mining conditions were so hazardous that many didn’t live or stay healthy long enough to pay their due. Children inherited debt from their parents and were locked into the system as soon as they were old enough to enter the work force (an age that inched ever lower). As far as the king and the church were concerned, the dwarves had a sizable community debt not just from enjoying Luxterra’s  gracious hospitality but for having their souls saved by being shown their proper Roles. And that debt was so great that it made sense that it was impossible to pay off. Also, trying to escape the contract was as much a death sentence for you and your family as ‘consorting with demons’.  Leaving the kingdom or rebelling against Regiis’ rule was akin to stealing the prosperity they had surely enjoyed and no one stole from the king. It was rehabilitation from the church or death.

And let’s be real. It was usually death.

Besides, the Holy Bestiaries stated that dwarves lived for mining and their generations of work had made Luxterra prosperous beyond measure. Why would they want to leave?

Basic Rolism Dwarf Rules- Dwaves are masculine. Dwarves are brutish. Dwarves smith and mine but they do not craft. Dwarves only love Gold and treasure. Dwarves only take joy in fight and drink. There’s more but you get the idea. There were other random rules around appropriate use of the dwarvish language (no use. No use is what they wanted) that included acceptable names (most families got to keep their last names because they were appropriately Aesthetic but first names were changed for most people). These rules weren’t in the books, the church just decided they were for the best.

Music - music was the biggest and most freeing coping mechanism the dwarves had during the three generations of life in Luxterra.  This makes sense, as screaming rhythmic complaints is a known stress reliever for many sapient races. What culture could be recovered or remembered, which wasn’t much tbh, was used heavily in the Lunk (short for ‘spelunk’ which some dwarves did in secret to recover relics from the ruins of the Mander Drop caves) scene, and that included attempted replications of traditional instruments and songs. It was way different from classic dwarven music due to the new instruments, influence from human underground (not that kind of underground) musicians, and enhanced Angst, but like all of lunk culture it was good enough.

Dwarves were expected to sing per their entry in the Bestiary, and so were never bothered about practice during the work day unless snitch human coworkers or guards heard…less than tasteful lyrics. This meant anything treasonous or ‘contrary to their nature’. Fighting and drinking were okay subjects but critique of  religion, the social order, or the king? Literal devil music that was cause for possible arrest and ‘rehabilitation’. To be fair, a lot of human miners weren’t too fond of the king either (Rolism didn’t just affect dwarves) so they let a lot slide unless a dwarf got uppity and they were a huge bastard. Also fighting and drinking persisted as song themes long after they were freed from their restrictions because those are almost universally fun topics to scream about in a cave, but still.

While plenty of singing went on in work areas, actual concerts and events were held in deeper decrepit mines than were usually condemned for one reason or another. It was…not safe. But that was kind of the point. If it wasn’t safe for dwarves then humans certainly wouldn’t want to  venture down there, not that they didn’t. Human friends could come to shows if they were vetted by  enough dwarves, kept their mouthes shut, and brought their own safety gear. Crouched figures with oxygen tanks, harnesses, and dusty mohawks weren’t as rare as you would think. Especially when the war started and the king really kicked his religious fervor into high gear.

Strangely enough, none of these venues ever killed or injured their occupants. Future dwarven musical scholars would say that the shows tied into ancient protective ballads that are sung in unnaturally excavated areas, a bit of accidental protection magic, but at the time they just considered themselves lucky.

Music Part 2: Themes In Screams - Classic lunk was angry rebellion music, but it was also very fantastical and tended to veer into a surreal dreamy territory that at times produced echos of ancestral dwarven music. This was purposeful, as the descendants of the Mander Drop dwarves had a lot of culture scrubbed out of them, but they fiercely guarded and celebrated what remained. Lunk also had a kind of fun hopeful romanticism to it once you got through all the verses about beheading the king and pissing down the stump. Besides regicide and bar fights, major classic lunk themes were a mix of gender, identity, and love.  Lunk was a perfect medium to explore their  heavily repressed femininity and sexuality because as far as the Church was concerned all dwarves were manly men who only touched through punches and dwarven babies came from special chunks of gold and rocky debris found in mines.

Music Part 3: Instrumentals - a lot of scavenging and creative instrument construction went on to make lunk possible. The dwarves were limited to crafting weapons, tools, and armor due to their Role in the Bestiaries, but used their time combing scrap yards and dumps for forge materials  to smuggle out other interesting tidbits. Using knowledge gained from discarded manuals and spare parts hidden among mining equipment, a workshop (called the Ironing Board for its red walls and duel purpose as a place that outlaw seamstresses hung out while doing clothes alterations and fittings) was established in an empty  side tunnel, and secretive tinkerers would spend their spare time churning out strange stringed things, portable piano adjacent items, and drums that were honestly, Too Much. Some of the better sounding instruments became staples of the genre and were mastered by most players but there were a lot of funky one-offs only used by specific dwarves.

As for singing, Lunk started as a mix of dwarven throat singing, very energetic yelling, seductive crooning, and rare operatic belting. Mostly it’s just Loud. Microphones weren’t a thing and being heard over the instruments meant positioning yourself in the cave for maximum acoustic effect while wearing your lungs out.

Some original music from the time in Luxterra still exist in dwarven museums and private collections. Recorders were retrieved with the rest of the spare parts they hid down in the tunnels, and the ones that weren’t taken apart for instruments were used to record shows.  The quality of these recordings is middling to pretty bad, but considering how few of those bands survived the war with all their members, they’re treated like the exquisite treasures they are.

Aesthetic:

Hair- Mostly bald or buzzed short with bangs but short thin mohawks or rat tails were also acceptable. Usually bleached  completely golden blond or streaked with blond chunks as a sarcastic nod towards The Bestiaries stance on the dwarven race’s supposed obsession with gold. Besides, bleach was cheap and easy to get. Hats were worn constantly above ground to prevent questions about the styles from nosy humans.  

Beards- Styled to hell. Gelled monstrosities that were sometimes bleached and often dusted with mica powder until they resembled shimmery  stalactites /stalagmites. Lunk beards are dyed a variety of colors these days, but in the past mica powder was easy to make/steal and a dusty beard was easier to explain away than a rainbow one. Beard style varied, some cut them short and shaved them into easily spikeable strips, some only  shaved the chin  and wore the rest in two braids laced with found bits of metal and ribbon, and some went with the dwarven classic: letting it grow to ridiculous lengths. It really depended on how closely they were monitored and what they felt they could get away with safely.

Clothes Makeup and Accessories- The goal was to be a visually blasphemous fuck you. Rolism gave dwarves very strict very masculine fashion guidelines that favored rugged disregard for appearance over careful grooming.  Makeup and any accessory deemed too feminine was prohibited. Colors were restricted to shades of brown with an occasional splash of white or gold. All jewelry was bits of rough blocky metal with very little detailing. Free dwarves have an androgynous style that flips from feminine to masculine and everything in between depending on cave system and activity but the Lunk style aimed for less gender androgyny and more gender discord. In the beginning dwarves turned up to shows in a mix of their least ruined set of work clothes and whatever super  ‘feminine’ items they could get their hands on.   This made for some very patchwork looks like heirloom pearl necklaces and gaudy costume jewelry earrings were paired with grungy button ups and ripped jeans. As scavengers got bolder and seamstresses got better they started experimenting with castaway human sized dresses (and the rare ballgown) that were ‘harvested’ by being hacked apart and put back together to make two or three slightly scandalous smaller dresses and taking apart discarded heels to recreate them in dwarf sizes. Patches were made from leftover scraps and either sewn over holes on clothing or embroidered with slogans and symbols to decorate vests, jackets, and bags.

And oh man the underwear.

It’s seems weird to bring up underwear as a sign of rebellion but the church only provided the worst boxer shorts you can imagine and ill fitting ‘undershirts’ used for binding chests too big to be ignored. The first seamstress to reverse engineer a comfortable bra and make underwear that wasn’t constructed of congealed depression was regarded as a goddess. And the great thing about the underwear was that unlike their other clothing which had to be stored in the tunnels 2/7, they could wear them anywhere as long as they made sure everything was covered up and washed them out of sight. That little act of rebellion carried a lot of people through and though great creativity and care was put into all the clothing made underground, underwear were by and large the fanciest and best taken care of items.

Now back to accessories where everything was spikes. the style was meant to mimic the stalactites/stalagmites and jewelry was made with random polished rocks and fabric scraps when actual pieces couldn’t be found. Makeup was little more than getting creative with charcoal for eyeshadow and lipstick (it had to be something that didn’t stain easily and the dregs of old makeup they would find caused enough eye infections and cold sores to be undesirable at best unless you were really willing to risk it for that great pop of color) but eyelashes were more important. Dwarves naturally have long eyelashes but they were ordered to trim them to prevent gender ambiguity so of course this meant that super long false lashes became a big thing.   What else were they gonna do with all that beard hair they were shaving off?

Art- Outright rebellion would have meant death for every Mander Drop dwarf, so all Lunk activity was on the down low to a degree that it might as well have not existed to humans not in the know. It was very easy to tell where humans weren’t hearty enough to work though because there was Lunk graffiti everywhere. Most graffiti was chiseled or scratched into available surfaces with re-purposed broken work tools or pocket knives. A lot of it was standard sentient species graffiti, tagging, poetry, declarations of love/hate, badly drawn pornography, puns, calls for regicide, memorials, cryptic messages, well drawn pornography, ect. But there were also a ton of illustrated instructions. Popular clothing patterns in different sizes were etched into the walls of the Ironing Board by seamstresses. Important instrument parts and building shortcuts were sketched out for crafters to reference. Tips for smuggling contraband, finding the best garbage, and lists of which humans were to be trusted (and who was to be ignored if they happened to fall down a mine shaft one day) were also present. A lot of this art was lost in the ensuing escape cave in, but now that dwarven archaeologists are allowed to venture into the mines again much is being found and displayed in Woodland museums.

Tattoos- Tattoos were very important before the flood drove them topside but the church declared the dwarves’ traditional designs blasphemous, going so far as to decree that those that couldn’t be hidden at all times be magically removed.  If they really really wanted a tattoo in Luxterra it had to relate to Rolism in some way. This meant that most dwarves did not have tattoos unless coerced into doing so to prevent punishment. So while makeup and drawn designs like the Mander’s Drop (the raindrop and circle worn on the forehead) were frequently used,  tattoos weren’t  a thing in Lunk culture until after the war. After the war, when they didn’t have to worry about hiding identifying features and they had the freedom to choose what designs they wanted, a lot of dwarves got inked up. Tbh, the result was less desirable than the absolute high of real choice but being able to get their Drops properly tattooed instead of drawing them on in secret every day helped soothe the identity problems some dwarves came out of this mess with.

New Blood - While the Mander Drop dwarves took solace in their music, King Regiis The 28th and head priest Adam III were working on plans to take their forefathers’ conversion of the demonic touched races a step further. It obviously worked for the dwarves, why not send missionaries into the Woods and actively enlarge their congregation? Or failing that, why not kidnap dwarven travelers and stick them with the tamed-I mean pious dwarves until they shape up and join the church? That should work.

It didn’t work.

The new dwarves, upon waking from the heavily drugged sleep brought on by the free food from the previously mentioned missionaries and getting an inside look at this whole Situation give a healthy internal scream and started planning their escape.  Their goal was to warn everyone in the Woods that those kind of annoying human missionaries were a vanguard for something much worse and nip this in the bud before it got (more) out of hand.

They kept their distance and didn’t really trust the Mander Drop descendants at first as they assumed that they were brain washed weirdos.  They eventually  came around after then elder, Thorgold Buckmarble (a common and ‘traditional’ dwarven name from the Bestiaries I swear) was instrumental in making sure the new blood didn’t get murdered by guards for demonic behavior within a week. With her help they were able to gain the other dwarves’ trust and realize that their pious behavior and shows of loyalty to the crown was all an act.

Thorgold was the one who introduced them to the lunk scene, and with her gentle guidance and constant threats to ‘come over there and chuck you idiots down a mine shaft if you don’t cut it out’, everyone was able to get along. Mostly. The newcomers’ insistence on escape and tales of dwarven culture outside of Luxterra intrigued the locals, and as they became more involved with each other lunk started to change from a simple music scene, to a movement.

Spread The word - The Mander Drop dwarves didn’t know any dwarven and the newcomer dwarves only barely spoke Luxterran but both sides were eager to learn. The misunderstanding were making things more difficult than they should be. The exchange had an unintended effect however. The few trusted human acquaintances ended up learning dwarven too.  And dwarven turned out to be a pretty good language to be treasonous in. And treason was starting to sound pretty cool for the small population of people who weren’t keen on what was shaping up to be a bloody crusade over a religion that they didn’t really believe. Of course the dwarves and their sympathizers didn’t want all this treason traced back to them, so they created a code to talk trash in and tentatively labeled it Lunk-Speech. This new code language was used for more than light treason though. It was also used for elaborate escape plans and HEAVY treason. With the king growing more paranoid by the day and war becoming more likely, the dwarves used their human comrades to sneak Lunk S.O.S. messages into The Woods. Lunk code was also used to make literature criticizing the king and the church, which made the ranks of sympathizers swell dramatically.

The king did not like this.

He only heard the barest of doubtful whispers. Even with the secret growth of the lunk movement, most humans in Luxterra were sippin’ the same flavor kool aid that he was. He had no real reason to be concerned about a few weird notes but paranoia sure is a thing.  The demonic forces had clearly crossed his borders. No more missionary trips. No more acclimation experiments. It’s holy war time.

The Second Jewel Towne Fire - Faking their deaths seemed as good a plan as any. There wasn’t gonna be a search for dead dwarves.

The messages did their job and rescuers in the Woods got to work. The least crushed bits of the abandoned Mander Drop cave system was rediscovered and tunnels were connected to one of the dwarven-only work areas of the  smaller  royal mine. As soon as the escape route was open the signal was sent to every dwarf. 3 days.

By the time the king got word of the flash fire at the dwarf village,  now called Jewel Towne, the flames were a wall of rainbow fury from the metallic dust burning off of the clothes and buildings left behind and the thought that anyone could survive the inferno was laughable at best. Instead they focused their efforts on saving the monastery and other adjacent human buildings.

Meanwhile, the dwarves were making their way through their escape tunnels. Their last act was to detonate their exit.

It had taken three generations, but the Mander Drop dwarves were free again.  

Free Agents - So the Mander drop dwarves faked their deaths. Now what? Freedom was amazing but it wasn’t smooth sailing. They never completely fit in with the Woodland dwarves after their ordeal, and while they appreciated the help from the outsiders who freed them, they felt iffy about moves to coerce them into the Woodland army. This led to them being a pretty solitary nomadic tribe. They did their part though. It’s not like they magically stopped hating the king, they just didn’t want to give anyone else a chance to use them. During the war they worked alongside woodland forces as spies, info dealers, assassins, and Luxterra experts. They were a boon for anyone looking to infiltrate enemy ranks, pose as  slave traders to free captives, or safely escort refugees. They also served as an early warning system for different communities and provided hand transcribed copies of The Bestiary so that people could hide ‘demonic behavior’ from roving Luxterran forces looking for an excuse to go after them. These blasphemous reproductions included translations for common Luxterran phrases, inventive curses to yell at captors/raiders, beauty tips, song lyrics, and a variety of very raw comix. The info didn’t always work because if someone really wants you to be guilty you’ll always be guilty and many holy raids were just cover ups for land grabs and kidnapping, but they helped a lot and were pretty much how zines in the Woodlands were born.

You would think that trying to stay out of direct combat would mean they were relatively safe, but many Mander Drop dwarves fell during the war. They  were most often the first to warn towns of approaching Luxterran forces and last to leave, which meant they got into a lot of skirmishes. They also had a habit of always trying to rescue P.O.W.’s , kicking in the teeth of slave traders, and generally freeing anyone they could from the Rolism colonies (it seems dwarves weren’t the only people that the church had captured and tried to convert). Very touchy on the subject of stealing people those Mander Drop dwarves. Very willing to risk their lives for any opportunity to stomp on a Rolism priest’s nuts. 

And besides all that there was the fact that now that they were free, they were very loud and open about their seething hatred of Luxterra. They couldn’t let the enemy forces know that they were their former captives since they were still pretending to be dead (and in fact had stopped using the Mander Drop title in exchange for just calling themselves Lunk dwarves and adopting new names for themselves) , but they spread the tale like wildfire and turned a lot of would be allies against the Luxterra. Most of the groups that were the loudest, most widely spread, and biggest pains in the collective royal ass were led or assisted by Mander Drop dwarves. It was so much of a thing that in the Lunk scene people used bounties and wanted posters like stylish accessories. This of course meant that anyone with a heavily styled beard  and a mohawk was enemy number one.

Some Woodland forces pegged this as reckless and suicidal behavior, but they won more than they lost and their work with the goblins who created the Guides saved a lot of people so no one really said nothing to them. Plus Lunk musicians were still making tons of morale boosting music in between missions and were regarded as some of the greatest war bards the Woodlands had ever known. You came to their shows talking smack and you had better have had a good reason or great brawling skills.

End Of The War-  Stomping on slave trader necks was fine, but it was the spies that really helped bring an end to the war.

Intel from human allies still living in Luxterra revealed that the king was going to try revive his weird dwarf collection and use them as spies. This would be his downfall however, as it gave a few of the top Mander Drop spies a way to get in there and just mess things up real good.

The ladies who took on this mission were Basaltherick Boulderboar, Thorgold Buckmarble, and Brickarth Dirtraven. They posed as miners who had been trapped by  a cave in right before the deadly fire, claiming they’d been wandering the underground for over a year, surviving only on water and mud (which The Bestiaries totally said they could do in hard times). It was almost suspicious how quickly they were believed and offered the job. If there was any Divine meddling going on, it definitely wasn’t for the king’s side.

It takes another year, a lot of sabotaging the hidden camps holding the heavily guarded healer P.O.W.’s that the Luxterran forces had been using the keep their army borderline unkillable, the accidental seduction of the king’s cousin, the death of a brave comrade, a few murders here and there, and getting a real tasty peasant uprising going, but eventually the crown was scooped up off the floor next to the guillotine, dusted off, and placed on the head of King Renn. His two dwarven advisers, Ladies Boulderboar and Dirtraven, stayed in Luxterra for the rest of their lives, and  later became peaceful dignitaries. To this day they are still  a constant presence in the Luxterran courts in what totally isn’t keeping an eye on on whoever they didn’t kill/get killed the first go round. They are also  founders/joint leaders of the less peaceful secret society who totally are making sure that that bullshit never happens again.

Dwarves age amazingly but they both look very young for their respective ages. Just a fun fact.

Also they are still spiking their beards.

Post War - Everyone kind of expected the Lunk scene to die out once the war was over, but changing out a king doesn’t entirely change out the ideas implanted in his people so even today there are still pockets of Rolists causing trouble so in turn there are still Lunk girls carrying on the family tradition of stomping on their nuts. It was eventually revealed that the Mander Drop dwarves had faked their deaths, and negotiations started on declaring their ancestral cave system as dwarven land entirely separate from Luxterra. Today the system is mostly restored and serves as a dwarven historical landmark but few people took up residence there right after the war. They were happy to have access to their home again but the feeling of being in Luxterra borders was just…too much.  The majority of the Mander Drop survivors decided to spread their wings a bit and explore the Woodland on quests for insight into free dwarven culture. The bands that were still whole and didn’t hate each other toured wherever folks would have them, picking up new musical skills and spreading the Lunk sound across the land. The fractured bands did similar, banding together or training up new members from other cave systems. Seamstresses used their skills to transform the post war fashion industry into something weird and wonderful (and one has a granddaughter who’s the current talk of the non-human fashion world with her Chainmail Bikini brand). Some of them went into crafting apprenticeships. Some helped rebuild Mander Drop.

Some, maybe more than people talk about when discussing the Woodland’s victory, never recovered from Everything and it’s a shame what happened to the ones who got smothered by all that ugliness.  That’s what these things do to people though.

There are worse happy endings than this.

#fashion dwarves #dwarf #small guide #dwarves #lunk

[royal-duality]

You Can’t Spell Romance Without Roman (But You Can Spell Roman Without Romance)

A/N: I haven’t found many aro/ace Roman fics and I wanted to write some more of our favorite prince.

Warnings: Lots of angst 

Word Count: 2672

Pairing(s): Completely platonic LAMP and Analogical

Summary:  Roman doesn't understand why he's unable to feel romantically attracted to anyone despite being the core of Thomas' romantic feelings.

~~~

It had been a long time coming, really. He had been planning on bringing it up sometime around the time of the Valentine’s video, preferably before so as to avoid any discomfort, but then he just couldn’t. Because it was wrong. He was wrong.

Roman sighed as he somehow flopped down on his bed gracefully. He was literally the embodiment of romance and all things lovely and yet...

He felt tears well in his eyes at the thought. Who was he if he couldn’t even love? Sure there was nothing wrong with being aromantic, but when you’re supposed to be the core of someone’s love, affection and primal desires. It was just different.

Thomas was a gay man who was clearly able to feel romantic and sexual attraction to other men. And yet…

He groaned, his hands balled into fists as he rubbed at his eyes which had begun to leak tears. It wasn’t fair because it didn’t make sense!

A knock on his door startled him from his thoughts as he sat up, pasting a bright smile on his face as he opened the door to find Logan standing on the other side. “Good evening poindexter, how may I help you on this delightful evening?” He grinned as Logan’s face blanched at his extra greeting. 

“I sincerely hope that you do possess the ability to not be so extravagant and that this is just a phase or a way of annoying me that you will eventually tire of.” A pout formed on his face as he listened to the nerdy side insult him using his textbook brain that somehow made it seem so casual despite the excessive amount of vocabulary.

“Must you be so dull and boring?” He whined, leaning against his doorway. The logical facet rolled his eyes muttering something under his breath before he straightened his tie and looked Roman in the eye once more. 

“Patton would like to call a meeting so that we may all address any concerns we might have for Thomas or anything pertaining to our host or ourselves. This may include but is not limited to, an es-” Roman slapped a hand over the other traits mouth, effectively stopping the torrent of words that would most likely never stop if nobody told him to stop. 

Roman’s way of telling him to shut up was just slightly more hands on.

He laughed sheepishly as Logan glared at him before grasping his wrist and removing it from his mouth before letting go, allowing the fantastical trait’s hand arm to drop to his side.

“Careful, someone might mistake you for Deceit if you keep covering our mouths. Next thing you know you’ll tell us you’ve been lying to us. That would be a very unfortunate discovery.” Roman failed to suppress a flinch at the thought of lying to the other sides. Not because it was an accusation, because knowing Logan, it was his way of attempting to make a joke. No, he flinched because it was true. He had been lying to all of them since he discovered he didn’t love people the way he was supposed to. He had been lying to himself even longer still. Denying the truth of his existence. Denying that he was wrong.

He forced a laugh as he waved Logan off, “How dare you accuse me of such dastardly things! Off you go peasant, leave me to my peace and I shall venture to the commons in due time!” He boasted before turning into his room, shutting the door behind him.

As soon as he heard the footsteps fade away from his section of the hall he collapsed, leaning his back against his door as he struggled to contain the sobs that wanted to burst from his chest.

He ran a hand through his hair leaving it slightly frizzy and messed up. They were holding a family meeting. This would be his chance to come clean to them, his family. The ones who had opened up to him, trusting him to accept him for who they are. 

Like Virgil. The anxious emo man who had tried so hard to be something he wasn’t and would rather be hated than risk being useless. Who always tried to do what was best for Thomas even at the expense of him or the other sides. Virgil who struggled to keep his past in the past in an attempt to be better and do better even as he was stuck in a grey area with no one there to support him.

Or Patton who shoved his feelings so far down inside himself that even he forgot he had them. Who tried his hardest to keep Thomas happy and give him the support nobody had given him. Patton who always put Thomas and his family first, even when they were all more than happy and healthy and didn't care how many times he was ignored or insulted, he just kept on giving.

And Logan. The nerdy textbook of everything who tried so hard to keep everyone on the straight and narrow so as to avoid chaos and unneeded harm to anyone and everyone. Who wanted so hard to be who he thought he was supposed to be, ignoring who he wanted to be. Logan who made mistakes and broke down in the face of is own wrongdoings and tried so hard to fix what was never broken to keep them all going, even when everyone was against him.

They had all bore their scars for everyone to see and judge as they wished. Taking a leap of faith even when they saw nowhere to land, trusting that someone would be there on the other side to catch them and keep them from falling into the darkness. 

"ROMAN!" Patton's voice rang through the mind palace as Roman jumped to his feet. It was time to face the music and own up to his mistakes.

He sunk put of his room only to rise up in the commons a moment later. "Good evening, calculator watch, father dearest and Gayday Parade!" Patton giggled, while Logan and Virgil both scowled at him, though there was definitely a hint of amusement in Virgil's eyes. 

"Already used that one Prince of Petulant, might wanna up your game." The anxious trait smirked at him with confidence even as his hands fidgeted nervously in his lap, only to be stilled as Logan reach over and laid a hand on top of them. Had Roman not seen this, he may have chalked the flush of Virgil's face up to him being nervous. His eyes widened as he glanced between the two of them with shock, because Logan and Virgil? Logic and Anxiety? Who would have guessed!

Virgil seemed to notice his stare causing his eyes to widen with panic as he tugged his hands away from his lap, stuffing them into his hoodie pockets as he once again began to fidget. Roman saw Logan flinch out of the corner of his eye at the action and winced because it must have hurt to care for someone so much and not be able to help them in their time of need for fear of making them uncomfortable. Sometimes he's glad he can't love someone so much that it hurts to be away. But even he gets upset when he is unable to care for his family.

Patton stood up, drawing three sets of eyes to him as he began to speak, "So, I know that it's been a while since all of us sat down and just took a moment to talk things out without the intention to fix something or starting an argument. Which is why I pat-itioned to have a meeting!" The fatherly side giggled at his own joke, smile growing wider upon seeing Roman laugh and Virgil's lips twitch into what could be considered a smile for him.

"Does anyone have anything they'd like to discuss?" He asked as he sat back down, looking at the other three traits hopefully. There was complete silence. "Anyone at all." He provided a metaphorical nudge. "About anything." His smile began to grow slightly strained as they all waited in silence for someone to speak up.

Suddenly his shoulders slumped in defeat before he scanned the room, his eyes lighting up as they landed on Logan. "LOGAN!" He yelled, causing the logical facet to startle and almost fall off the couch. Virgil's hand left his hoodie to latch onto the other's sleeve in an attempt to keep him from falling. “What’s been on your brain, or should I say Thomas’ brain?” He grinned.

Logan stared at him with disbelief as he straightened his tie and flattened the wrinkles in his clothes. Other than the thought that it might be in my best interest to go deaf to save me from hearing such ridiculous humor, a lot. Thomas has been multitasking on everything and it has resulted in many migraines as he over-tasks himself.” He cleared his throat at the end of his, rant? Speech? 

Patton stared at him in concern for a moment before tentatively speaking once again, “Kiddo-” “Once again, Patton, we are the same person-” “I know you care about Thomas, but the reason I called this meeting was so that we could talk about how we are. Not Thomas.” As he finished, Roman could practically hear the windows error noises coming from Logan as he struggled to comprehend what the emotional facet had just said. 

“But, we’re part of Thomas, therefore by taking care of Thomas’ needs, we are taking care of our own needs.” Roman winced as he said that, his thoughts spiraling as he thought of how he was so different from Thomas. That he should have the same needs and wants, but he didn’t.

“Lo, he wants to know how you’re feeling. Why don’t you tell him about the thing?” Suddenly, Logan’s face was flushed bright red as he began to stammer and stutter. Virgil reached over and grabbed his hand effectively calming the other.

Logan sighed before turning slightly to address all of them. ‘Them’ being Patton and himself. “I have recently discovered and come to terms with a certain-” he paused for a moment as though struggling to think of what he wanted to say, “-want of mine that I addressed.” He cast a glance at the anxious side before turning back to the others. “Virgil and I, have decided to take things a step further.” He opened his mouth to continue but was cut off by a squeal coming from Patton.

“YOU GUYS ARE DATING!?” Roman winced at the sheer volume and pitch of the question.

The two traits in question both stared wide-eyed at the other man before Logan began chuckling as Virgil turned redder than a blooming rose. Logan quickly cleared his throat before correcting him, “No, however we both have agreed to be queer platonic partners. Seeing as neither of us harbor romantic or sexual attraction to each other, but still feel closer than ‘just friends’, we both agreed to begin a relationship replicated by the closeness and fondness we have for each other.” By the end of his speech, Logan’s face was close to matching Virgil’s in shade as Patton just blinked at them. 

Roman tensed as he waited for the questions or accusations. “You guys are squishes?! OH THAT’S EVEN CUTER! TWO OF MY KIDDOS ARE HARDCORE SQUISHES! ROMAN, LOOK AT HOW CUTE THEY ARE!” Roman felt his jaw drop as he stared at Patton with disbelief. 

He was okay with it? Well of course he was, it’s Patton! Does that mean he would be okay with me being… But it’s different with me, because I’m romance incarnated. “Princey?” The quiet voice of his emo friend snapped him out of his thoughts to see the other trait staring at him with worry and, was that fear?

Oh. OH! He thought Roman was going to reject him! “Sorry my dark and stormy knight, I’m afraid I was merely caught off guard by such a passionate declaration!” Tension seemed to flee the room as he assured the two men that he was more than okay with their new relationship

“However, I do believe I may have to step on your moment just a bit, so as to make a declaration of my own.” Here goes everything. “I… I am- um I-” His voice cut off as he choked on a whimper, tears pooling in his eyes as his heart beat rapidly in fear. 

“I… I”m sorry.”

The three facets stared at him with worry. Patton stood up, walking over to where he was sitting and crouching in front of him, gripping his hands in his own soft and warm ones. “What are you sorry for, kiddo?”

Roman gripped Patton’s hands as though they were the only thing able to keep him from fleeing the scene. “I am afraid I have failed you all as well as Thomas.” 

A snort from across from him had his head shooting up to stare wide-eyed at the anxious trait in shock.  “That’s hard to believe. Prince perfect failing something so bad that even I’m disappointed? That’s a high bar you’ve set for yourself there Princey.” Virgil smirked at him cockily, but Roman could see the concern shine through. Virgil was trying to distract him so that he could calm down.

“Well I do pride myself in being the best at everything, even if it’s at being the worst.” He let out a choked laugh as he took a moment to breathe and think of what he wanted to say.  “I don’t believe I am capable of loving someone or anyone.” 

Patton brows furrowed at his words before he opened his mouth, most likely to offer some form of consolation, but Roman cut him off before he could. He had to do this now, before he could back out. “I… I’m aromantic. I do not feel romantic attraction to men or women or anyone of any gender or lack of gender. I believe I am also asexual.” Silence. His frame began to tremble as sobs built up in his chest.

“I’m sorry, I know it’s stupid. I’m Thomas’ creativity which means I am his romantic side and yet I can’t even fall in love-”

“Falsehood.” He froze, looking at Logan. “I apologize for interrupting but I can only stand for so much idiocy.” He flinched, looking down at his lap. “How could you be so stupid as to think-” Here it comes “-that you could not fall in love just because you do not feel romantic attraction. I mean obviously phrase fall in love is often referred to in a romantic sense, but when Patton falls in love with a tiny version of something, it is not because he wishes to begin a romantic relationship with it. Furthermore, I believe it has been proven many times that we often adopt traits of our own that show no sign of being a part of Thomas as a whole. “

Looking up he noticed everyone looking at him with kind smiles. “Besides kiddo, I don’t think it’s too far-fetched to say that the heart has enough love of it’s own to give, romantic or not. You don’t need to blame yourself for who you are. Especially when who you are is an amazing person with so much love and care for others, even if it’s strictly platonic and/or familial.”

As Patton spoke, Virgil rose from his spot next to Logan, advancing towards Roman with steady, confident steps. Upon reaching him, Virgil wrapped his arm around his shoulders, effectively enveloping him in a hug. 

Tears began to once more stream down his face, this time joined by a shaky smile. 

“Thank you.”

“Yeah, yeah, shut up and let us hug you so we can all go eat the cookies Patton stress-baked earlier today.” A squeak sounded from behind him causing Roman to giggle. 

Things would be okay. He would be okay.

#sanders sides #roman sanders #logan sanders #virgil sanders #patton sanders #aromantic roman #asexual roman #qpr positivity #Platonic love #have a thing #its short #and i didnt really edit #but #yeah i got nothing

[skirak]

The Ultimate Introduction to Hosoya Yoshimasa Part 1 [Everything you should know about Hosoya Yoshimasa #3]

37th Birthday Special

10 February, the ultimate day as a certain baby turns 37. Time really flies... I still remember creating posts for his 36th bday last year in my main account @akaskira

This is taken from a Chinese source: PukiWiki 

Translated by me!

Introduction

Source: 新R25 Interview (Japanese)

Hosoya Yoshimasa [細谷佳正]

Born 10 February, 1982 in Onomichi, Hiroshima.

Height of 175 cm (5 feet 7), Blood Type B

Left hander.

Was a member of Mausu Promotion till 1 July 2014 and has been Freelance since.

Nicknames include Yosshi (used by Ono Yuuki), Posoya-kun (used by Sugita Tomokazu)

Called Hosoyan by fans and Hikasa Yoko

According to himself, has rarely been given nicknames.

Favourite food includes sea urchin. Likes to drink but doesn’t smoke.

Likes ghost story and horror movies but gets scared as hell in haunted houses (click for link!)

Probably can see ghosts - many colleagues have heard real ghost experiences from him.

Okamoto Nobuhiko once said he wanted to go to haunted house most with Hosoya as his reaction is interesting

In the world of Male seiyuu Singers, he is considered to be of mid-high ranking.

Used to do busking and released his own songs.

Sang albums for character Shiraishi Kuranosuke in “Prince of Tennis”

The first album “Medicine or...?” got 7th in Most Daily Played and 10th in Most Weekly Played. The second album “Poision” achieved 3rd in Daily and 6th in Weekly [Oricon Style]

CD or LIVE, his performance is worth a praise. His condition has been good since his first performance, “Prince of Tennis Hundred Song Marathon”. He then received praise for his singing plus dancing in FESTA 2009, and also is the first from Prince of Tennis to have his very own solo concert and album in 2010.

Doesn’t really sing as his characters, so the songs you hear are all his own style.

Seiyuu with the same experiences as him include Tsubasa Yonaga, Kaji Yuuki, Okamoto Nobuhiko etc.

One of Mima Masafumi (Director of audiography)’s favourite seiyuu. It’s like wherever there’s Mima there’s Hosoya

Experiences

High School 

Used to be in fencing and acting clubs, and quit fencing for acting.

Was in a leader position in acting, but didn’t know whether to pursue it.

After that, watched “Martian Succesor Nadesico: The Motion Picture - Prince of Darkness” recommenced by a friend and decided to be a seiyuu as he was inspired by Yamadera Koichi’s character.

Voiced in the remake Space Battleship Yamato 2199 as Katou Saburou, fulfilling his dream of voicing with Yamadera.

Achieved Best Supporting Character Awards in 2014 and 2016 tho he has no luck in MC

Characteristics

Has a natural mid-range voice, therefore often gets cool / calm Sports Captain roles. To other people, Hosoya can also be seen as a man who’s calm with few words.

Because he started as acting in Western works, he’s better at “natural calmness” performances rather than exaggerated.

Mostly voices young characters from straightforward to cold ones. Also can voice as some bad “Uncle” (Ixion Saga DT as Pet)

Basically after Takamatsu Shinji’s (animator) favourtism, his image has disappeared (this is a compliment)

Maybe because Hosoya’s tone is a little plain (Hey!!) he rarely voices as MC but as supporting roles (MC’s friends etc)

For some reason, always voice some “big Brother” characters and recently, 80% of his roles are muscular guys

Accepted more roles as he grew popular.

Voiced as an insane character in a game “Princess Arthur” and received praise for it.

Before that, also voiced incanely in “Edel Blume” but the game wasn’t good so it wasn’t popular

Common traits of his characters: glasses, prideful, disses, dialect.

Real person is a helpless dork which is totally different from his characters, so may surprise people who don’t know him well.

Started by dubbing in Western shows / movies, so isn’t known in ACG (Animation, Comic, Game) community until his role as Shiraishi.

One of the few who dubs a lot in both ACG and Western films, where he voices in almost every season.

Often receives dialect roles (Osaka, Fukui, Hiroshima etc). Says that his voice is like a plain Ochazuke (rice with tea).

Has very few R18 works.

In BLCD, only appeared for a passerby and never a seme/uke role.

With the exception of Miyano Mamoru and Irino Miyu who both have acting backgrounds, Hosoya being famous even without a R18 character is considered as really special.

People may mistake Hosoya as voicing in more shoujo themed anime due to his popularity with women and large variety, but he actually focuses more on dub and shonen works.

Hosoya EVERYWHERE

In 2016 October, he accepted roles from 12 more works out of his normal ones, and with different varieties as well.

Probably because of overperformance, he hurt his throat and took a break from 23 April 2017 to August 2017.

Personality

Speciality: plays guitar and likes shooting

Is bad at technology so doesn’t have Twitter or personal blog (except link)

Known as the most woman-like male seiyuu.

Ogata Megumi: “Among male and female seiyuu, the one with most girl powers is Hosoya Yoshimasa.”

Actually also wants to be popular so often asks tips from other male seiyuu

A member of Mizuki Nana’s female team

Proved by a lot of people that he loves to talk about love.

Self-claimed masochist. Is actually also very masochistic

Gets nervous easily and sweats a lot. When he’s nervous, he always speak incoherently / stammers so he’s often teased by others.

Always at the bottom of the food pyramid.

In Free, was bullied by “predators” Miyano Mamoru and Suzuki Tatsuhisa.

Nobunaga Shimazaki: “Sorry—”

Hosoya: “We’re not gonna lose like this!!”

Masafumi Mima: “In Knb, 50% of seiyuu were new and perhaps to calm their berves they decided to tease someone. That someone is Hosoya. Even though he’s the captain, his reaction when bullied is priceless.”

Known as the natural dork, which often comes into topic when he’s not around.

Has a weird way of thinking sometimes.

Often leaves audience and cast speechless (and is usually made fun of later), but can tell he means what he says, and usually still has a good relationship with others.

Likes to not look at the camera in pictures, affecting people around him. Fans have also started to imitate it.

Easy to go along with and humble.

Often calls person with “san” behind and uses respectful language (formal)

Depending on atmosphere, he does call people by their first name and vice versa.

People he calls first names include Ono Kenshou, Osaka Ryota, Ishikawa Kaito etc.

“Will go crazy in unreasonable situations” - Hikasa Yoko

Too many sports roles. Fans often say he can “hold an Olympic on his own” and those roles are still renewing.

Some include tennis, Basketball, baseball, soccer, Volleyball, piano, drums, judo, karuta, Swimming, rugby, ice skating.

Fans often check if he’s voicing in new sports anime - and it’s a common habit.

Seems to also notice himself and talks about doing them sometimes.

Relationships

Male Magnet.

Attracts both senpai and junior’s appreciation.

Accidentally stepped into a gay bar and was almost harassed.

Even Fukuyama Jun, who doesn’t work with him much, would mention him from time to time.

Kamiya Hiroshi: “He’s a good kid who’s too serious.”

Has many hidden fans in the industry. Ishikawa Kaito has played his songs directly from his phone before.

Others

Likes girls who’s younger but mature big Sister type omg that’s me

Seems to like... boobs, D-cup in particular.

Had a defect where he was born with six fingers on his right hand but had the extra surgically removed.

Was a fan of the manga “Ushio and Taro” so was very happy when he voiced Akiba Nagare in it.

To be continued

I’ve kind of run out of space so I’m going to do a separate post later. For now, I’m so glad I decided to rewatch anime or I wouldn’t have found out about this adorable dork who made me who I am. I just came back from Japan after studying there for about 4 months, and it had just been the best knowing we were in the same country, breathing the same air, almost living in the same city. 

While I didn’t manage to go to a Hosoyan event, I would definitely go at least once just to “meet” and see him live. 

I love him with all my heart and wish him the best in everything.

#hosoya yoshimasa #hosoyan #facts #everything you should know #happy birthday!!!! #hbd to my baby #yes thats my baby right there #i love him so much u cant imagine #february 10 #37 years old #pls get married #translation #my translation #skira translate

[trueloveseyeroll]

The Dancing Thief (5/13)

Summary: Pretending to be a noblewoman might be the dumbest thing Emma has ever agreed to do. And she’s not sure if meeting Lord Killian Jones made the whole thing better or worse. (Better. Definitely better.)

Rating: T (language and mild violence)

Beta: The wonderful @forget-me-not-s​

Artist: The lovely @captxinswans - check out her amazing artwork for chapter 1 and chapter 2!!

Word count: 5413 (62k words in total)

Chapter 1

AO3

“So how have things been around here?” Emma asked.

Ruby gave a one-shouldered shrug, rearranging a few items behind the bar. “Same old, same old. Although there’s a new guy playing the fiddle a few times a week now - he’s not hard to look at, I’ll tell you that,” she winked.

“Hopefully he’s nice to listen to, too,” Emma said, sipping at her ale. It had been a while since she’d heard anything but string orchestras and refined tunes. Honestly, she wouldn’t mind listening to this fiddler no matter what his skill.

“He’s alright. But seriously, he’s one handsome guy...” Ruby trailed off, lost in pleasant thoughts, Emma surmised. Then, she turned towards her with a grin Emma could only describe as wolfish. “I bet he’s got nothing on that Jones boy of yours, though.”

“He’s not mine,” Emma said, perhaps a smidgen too quickly.

“Not yet.”

“Not ever.”

“You sure about that?”

Emma rolled her eyes at her oldest friend. “You haven’t even seen him, Ruby. You’ve got nothing to base him on.”

“That look in your eyes whenever he’s mentioned is plenty enough to base him on.”

“There’s no look,” Emma defended herself. Ruby merely raised an eyebrow, the unspoken whatever you say glaringly obvious.

Emma huffed, tucking her feet behind the rung of the wooden bar stool. “I don’t know, okay? He’s... he’s intriguing, I guess.”

The image of him on the beach wouldn’t leave her. His honesty when he told her about his brother and about why he’d come to Aurora’s birthday even if he hadn’t planned on it - the look in his eyes when he’d told her she was an open book... Emma had not been prepared for seeing that side of Lord Killian Jones, and now, two days later, she was still thinking about what might have happened if that wave hadn’t crashed at the very moment it did... not that she was going to tell Ruby about any of that.

“Anyways,” Emma went on before Ruby had a chance to say anything, “I really didn’t come here to talk about my current job and all that it entails. It’s my day off - I just want to forget everything that’s going on.”

Ruby took her nearly empty cup and poured more ale into it, setting it back down on the bar. “Well, you know you’ve come to the right place.”

And like that, Ruby allowed the conversation to drift into other topics. For all that she loved to pry, she always knew what every moment called for, and Emma was damned glad for it. Even if it meant getting tipsy at midday.

Emma had first met Ruby when they were both around ten and the tavern had been owned by Ruby’s grandmother. Granny, as everyone called her, had ushered Emma into the kitchen before she could even think of running away. Once a warm meal had been placed in front of her, she realized she was too starved to turn away the rare act of kindness. She promised herself to not come back though.

A few weeks later, Ruby had spotted Emma near the tavern and had offered a job, saying it would lessen her load and that Granny would love to have her around. Emma had refused the offer. She refused to get attached to anyone; previous experiences with thieving crews had taught her that much. But when Granny spotted her a month later, offering her a small job in return for two meals and a night’s rest in a real bed, Emma had been too weak to turn it down. She didn’t stay the entire night though. She did, however, return to the tavern every now and then, whenever she was low on food or needed a penny or two. When Granny died, Ruby took over the tavern, despite being only eighteen. And though the offer for a permanent job at the tavern still stood, Ruby supplied Emma with plenty of rumours and tips instead.

Now, here they were, simply chatting on Emma’s “day off” before the ball at Keep Nostos the next evening.

While Emma was laughing at Ruby’s story about a recent patron, the door to the tavern swung open. With her side towards the door, all it took was a slight turn of the head and Emma’s laughter died in her throat.

None other than Lord Killian Jones himself stepped into Ruby’s tavern, along with Phillip, Eric and Thomas.

“Shit.”

Emma didn’t have time to answer Ruby’s questioning look. She all but stumbled off the chair, grabbing her ale in the process. With her back towards the group of lords, she hurried away from the bar as they walked towards it.

The tavern had a couple of empty tables left, but for some foolish reason, Ruby had never invested in cloths – hiding under a table would therefore likely only draw more attention to Emma. Why the hell were the lords at Ruby’s tavern anyway? In an attempt to hide her face, she tucked the loose curls of her hair away from her ears.

Ruby greeted the young noblemen just as Emma sat down at an empty table in the corner of the tavern. She had her side towards the bar so she could keep an eye on them and still be able to hide her face if they turned her way.

Don’t you fucking dare turn my way, she thought, clenching the cup of ale in her hand.

The lords ordered some lunch and a few drinks, Killian doing most of the talking - even if she hadn’t been able to see them, she would have recognized his voice anywhere.

“Just take a table and I’ll be right over,” Ruby said after Killian had handed her the needed sum of coins. Emma noticed then, that while the lords obviously weren’t dressed in their fine evening suits, they weren’t dressed in fine day suits either, like at Aurora’s birthday. They were dressed rather plainly, actually - one wouldn’t even necessarily think they were nobles.

How often did they go to taverns like this? Ruby’s wasn’t exactly an upper-class establishment.

Emma didn’t have time to ponder the question as the lords turned her way. Well, fuck. She sipped at her ale, thinking the cup would help hide her face as she looked away from the group of friends. They walked towards her side of the tavern, and Emma could have sworn she could feel eyes on her, although it was likely just paranoia. They had no reason to think they’d find Lady Emma Swan in a tavern, so they probably wouldn’t even notice her, even if they caught a glimpse of her face.

Just as she thought they were headed directly for her table, they turned left, seating themselves on two chairs and a bench lining the wall. A single table stood between hers and theirs, as well as a wooden pillar, and with her back to them, they shouldn’t be able to make out her features. And she could hear everything they said.

“Well, this is certainly homier than The Golden Rooster,” one of the lords said - Thomas?

“A bit dirtier as well,” Eric added, though not haughtily.

“Aye, but it’s worth more support than a place like The Golden Rooster.” Killian’s voice was unmistakable. Emma gathered this Golden Rooster was some finer tavern for the upper-class - and Killian’s opinion of it was probably much like his opinion of balls.

“As long as the food is better than that last tavern we went to, I’m happy,” Phillip said, Emma sensing a disliked memory behind the words.

“I thought we agreed never to mention that place again... I can’t even look at crabs lately.”

“It was your own fault, Eric - now you know never to risk crabs in a place like that,” Thomas said.

“It’s not like you were much better off with your herring.”

A few more words were spoken, but Emma didn’t catch them as she saw Ruby exiting the kitchen, balancing four bowls of chicken-broth on a tray. Usually, she had more barmaids working in the evening, but during the day it was just her, the cook and a single helper.

After placing the bowls on the table, Ruby went back to the bar. A second later, she was headed towards Emma with a pitcher in her hand.

“So... what’s going on?” she whispered, pouring ale into Emma’s already half-full cup as slowly as she could.

“They’re noblemen.”

Ruby reigned in her surprise, only a tick in her eyebrow giving it away. “You know them?” Then, setting Emma’s cup back on the table, a sly curl formed at her lips. “Jones isn’t one of them, is he?”

Emma glared at her.

“He is, isn’t he? Which one?”

“Ruby. Go.”

Ruby gave a small pout, but relented - she couldn’t stand at Emma’s table all day after all. “Fine. But you’re telling me later.”

Emma knew she wouldn’t be getting out of that one, but for now, she could go back to eavesdropping as Ruby went back to the bar.

The lords’ conversation had drifted away from taverns and onto some book or another, seemingly about philosophy. Apparently, Killian wasn’t the only one who enjoyed reading. Their discussion veered towards the treatment of the common people, and Emma did her best to catch every single word they said. It seemed they didn’t quite agree with the current taxation system, saying not enough money was spent on bettering living conditions in the lower-classes. Emma’s heart pounded in her chest - with the way the young lords were talking, she could definitely see them supporting David.

A lot of their opinions were based on books though; theories and musings of philosophers that Emma had never heard of. They didn’t seem to quite understand how bad things truly were, and rather focused on how a poor distribution of welfare would only hurt the upper-class in the end, if the workers died too early. Perhaps that’s what Killian had meant, when he said that taverns like Ruby’s were worth more support.

“We should probably be careful we don’t start sounding too much like Lord Gold, only worried about profit and continued profit,” Phillip said. Emma liked him a bit more for that comment.

“Everyone’s worried about profit,” Eric said.

There was a pause, and Emma turned an ear towards their table to be certain they weren’t mumbling about something. Then, Killian spoke. “There was another calling card from Gold on my father’s desk yesterday.” His voice was low, and Emma only just caught the words, although the disgust that laced them was clear.

“There’s been more and more lately, hasn’t there?” Phillip asked.

“Aye. And I still don’t know what the bloody hell is going on.”

“It might not be anything bad, you know,” Thomas said. “If they really were meeting about something horrible, wouldn’t your father make a better effort out of hiding all traces?”

“Possibly. Or perhaps he simply doesn’t realize how often I’m in his office.”

“Gold wouldn’t be foolish enough to send all those calling cards if it’s to do with wrongful business though. He’d have a more subtle approach,” Eric said.

“He’d just threaten anyone who’d dare say anything about them.” Emma knew Killian wasn’t exactly fond of balls or court, but she’d never before heard him speak with such animosity about anyone. Had something happened between him and Lord Gold?

“Wait until you know what’s going on for sure before you get your blood boiling.”

“Don’t worry, Thomas. When have you ever known me to do something rash?”

The lords all chuckled, and two tables away, Emma could sense the mood had been lightened.

“What about you, Phillip? Still don’t think you were too rash in proposing to Aurora?” Eric asked, changing the topic and surprising Emma. Phillip had proposed to Aurora? Why hadn’t she heard about it yet? Perhaps it happened after she had left the birthday - Emma hadn’t seen any of the ladies since then, after all.

“It was a bloody long time coming.”

“I think you’re right about that, Killian.” Emma could hear the smile in Phillip’s voice, and although she’d only known him and Aurora for less than a month, she agreed with Killian too. “And I still can’t believe she actually said yes, but I am beyond happy that she did.”

“So when are you going to announce it?” Thomas asked.

“Soon. Aurora’s mother wants to be sure when and where to throw the engagement party before letting the world know.”

Ah. So that’s why Emma hadn’t heard anything yet. She’d have to prepare her look of surprise in case Aurora told her in person.

“Just promise you won’t start thinking you’re too good for us once you’re married,” Eric said. “Sooner or later, Thomas would leave as well to be with Ella and I’d be stuck with Killian.”

Thomas fumbled with the right words to say that he and Ella probably wouldn’t get engaged in the near future, although it was clear that he definitely wouldn’t mind it. While Killian acted insulted, Phillip chuckled. “Who knows, Eric, maybe Killian actually will settle down someday. Lady Emma has certainly caught his eye.”

Emma had just been about to take a drink, but the cup stopped at her lips.

“I’d be a blind man if she hadn’t caught my eye, Phillip.”

“Yeah, but it’s more than that, isn’t it? Don’t think I didn’t notice the way you looked at her at Aurora’s birthday - I’ve never seen you look at anyone like that before.”

Had Killian been looking at her? And not just because he thought she was... eye-catching? Although, apparently, he did think so. Warmth spread through her cheeks, but she blamed the ale and refused to acknowledge any happiness she might feel about the fact that Killian might... like her.

“I wasn’t... she’s just... she’s interesting, alright? I enjoy her company.”

“You’re absolutely smitten, that’s what you are,” Phillip teased. Emma didn’t know what to do with herself, not even sure if she dared believed her own ears. And it shouldn’t matter anyway. She didn’t like Killian. She couldn’t. He didn’t even know who she really was, for Pete’s sake!

“’Interesting’ seems a good choice of word though,” Eric said, and Emma was surprised she could even hear him over the thoughts running wild in her head.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, there’s just something... I don’t know, I mean, I obviously don’t know her as well as you, Killian, but am I the only one who thinks she’s come somewhat out of the blue?”

“There are always new people arriving at court,” Killian said, taking on a defensive tone. Worry started to take root inside Emma at Eric’s words though.

“Yes, but I’ve never even heard of House Swan before.”

“I’d be surprised if you’d heard about every House in the Enchanted Forest,” Thomas said, and Emma hoped his argument would keep Eric - or anyone else - from digging deeper. “That being said, I do think it’s a bit odd she’s come alone - without any family, I mean.”

“Perhaps they didn’t have time,” Killian reasoned.

“Perhaps,” Eric repeated, although he sounded quite sceptical.

“The details of her presence may seem a bit odd, but Aurora and Ella have definitely taken a liken to her,” Phillip said. “It’s not just Killian.”

Emma would have like to have heard what was said after, but a group of people at another table nearby started laughing loudly, and then she noticed Ruby headed towards the lords’ table, asking if they needed anything. When the laughter died down and Ruby headed back to the bar, throwing a wink towards Emma, the conversation behind her had changed into a different topic.

For the next twenty minutes, nothing important was said, and Emma didn’t know whether to be relieved or disappointed that her name was never mentioned again. Of course, she didn’t want them to suspect her of anything, and she shouldn’t want Killian to have any sort of feelings for her either, but the thought gave her a sense of thrill like no other.

Just as she thought they were starting to leave, Phillip had one last thing to discuss, his voice lowering. “I overheard the maids talking about something rather interesting this morning - apparently the physician Whale was seen headed for King George’s chambers in the middle of the night. None of them seemed to know why and I didn’t want them to know I’d overheard them by asking, but do you think he may have taken ill?”

“I haven’t heard anything,” Eric said. “But if the King has taken ill, we’re all likely to know of it sooner rather than later.”

----------

Emma sat in her usual armchair, taking in everyone’s expressions after she had relayed the overheard information. Of course, she left certain things out, such as Killian’s possible crush on her. She still couldn’t work out how she felt about that - or perhaps, she couldn’t admit how she felt about that.

“Well, a bedridden George seems like a good thing to me,” Will said, breaking the momentary silence.

“He may not be bedridden though,” Snow reasoned. “Maybe it was a false alarm or just a rumour.”

Emma looked at David, trying to guess his thoughts. Gears were certainly turning in his head, but when he didn’t say anything, Emma decided to ask the question that had been on her mind since that afternoon. “If he is bedridden though, and ends up dying, who’s next in line? They’re not gonna put a four-year-old Prince James on the throne, are they?”

“They’ll appoint a regent,” Robin answered. “And whoever it is will rule until Prince James is old enough to become king.”

“Who’s ‘they’?” Emma asked.

Snow was the one to answer, David still mulling over something. “The Great Houses; most of the leaders will probably want the title, and every member of a Great House will have a vote - King George has a vote too though, and whoever he chooses will probably be appointed.”

“Which means it’s likely to be Lord Gold.” Everyone turned to David, and Emma could tell this was the exact thing he’d been mulling over since Emma told them the news. She thought of the way Killian said Gold’s name, full of hatred and disgust. Phillip had called him a man who only cared for profit - the welfare of the common people meant nothing to him. If anything, he’d be a worse monarch than George, and Emma already knew that a lot of people saw Gold as the king’s right hand. David was right; Gold was a very likely candidate.

“Or Lord Jones,” Robin said, and Emma knew he meant Brennan. He and George were close too, after all.

David nodded absent-mindedly, then sighed. “Might as well be Lady Cora Mills too. None of them are favourable choices though.”

“We just gotta make sure people know you’re a choice too, then,” Will said. When everyone turned to him, he shrugged as if it were obvious. “They’ll have some assembly when they vote, right? We just gotta get you to that assembly, you can make your case, claim you’re the rightful heir and all that, and people will probably vote for you ‘cause you’re the easy choice. Better to choose the prince they always thought would become King than biting each other’s heads off to become regent.”

Emma tilted her head, somewhat agreeing with Will’s logic. From what she’d heard, David was very well-liked. Well, before he got exiled and all that, of course.

“It seems a tad rash,” Robin said, and Emma had to agree with that as well.

“If the king’s dying, we don’t have much choice, do we?”

“We still don’t know if he’s dying,” Snow said. “We’ve heard a single rumour, that’s all. I’ll check with some informants, but let’s not make any plans until we know things for sure.”

“We should hope he’s not dying,” David said, surprising Emma. Will was surprised too, from the looks of it, and David explained, “you might be right Will, but if every great noble thinks they have a chance of gaining power, they might not want to hand it over to an exiled prince. And if George is seriously ill, court is going to become a tense and dangerous place to be, which will make things much harder for Emma. You need to be able to talk to people to find out if they’ll support us,” he said, looking at Emma. “And if everyone is busy settling alliances amongst themselves, they won’t have time to worry about a young outsider like Lady Swan.”

“Then let’s hope the king’s alright for now,” Emma said, although it felt wrong to say so. She meant it though; she wanted to continue the job she was meant to do, even with all the danger and the confusing feelings that followed.

--------------

By the time Emma was dressing up for the ball hosted by House Nostos, Snow had had the rumour confirmed by two different informants. Whale had indeed been called to George’s chambers in the middle of the night, but not a single person knew why.

Emma hoped she would hear more about it at the ball, but nothing much happened during the evening. She was invited to sit with some of the lesser nobles, after having danced with Sir August Booth. He was kind, as were his friends, but their conversation failed to interest her. Then there was the fact that August’s dark hair and blue eyes kept reminding her of someone else, and Emma knew she really shouldn’t be thinking of Lord Killian.

She’d seen him when August was leading her to the dance floor during the early evening. He’d been standing with Thomas, and his eyes met hers just briefly, but long enough for Emma’s stomach to flutter. She hadn’t seen him since the tavern; since she overheard that he might fancy her.

Since then, despite trying to focus on the conversation at August’s table, a part of her kept trying to spot Killian in the ballroom. For some reason, knowing where he was, if he was close - if he was looking her way - was incredibly addicting. Emma absolutely hated it.

Instead, she fooled herself into believing that she was looking to see if Aurora or Ella were around. She hadn’t seen either of them, but she’d seen both Phillip and Thomas. Maybe they were busy planning the engagement party that Emma wasn’t supposed to know about yet.

An hour until midnight, Emma had drifted on to another group of lesser nobles standing near the dance floor. Every muscle in her body ached and she longed for the armchair in the lounge room of the townhouse. House Nostos seemed more concerned with decorative statues, gold and fountains than comfortable chairs. Standing was almost more comfortable.

Just as she was getting lost in thought about the cocoa waiting for her at home - Snow had made it a ritual of sorts - Emma spotted Killian across the room. Her mood picked up a bit at that, but quickly fell again. Plummeted towards the ground, even. Killian was standing with a young, gorgeous brunette, both of them laughing. And standing awfully close to each other, Emma thought. Killian wasn’t even carrying any books.

She tried to tell herself it was nothing to be sad about. Killian could laugh with whomever he pleased - that girl was probably just a friend anyway. And if she was more than that, well, it was none of Emma’s business.

So what if Killian’s friends thought he had a crush on her. Killian shouldn’t mean anything to her, and although she knew denying that he meant something was impossible, she could at least try to forget it. Sure, he was intriguing, as she had told Ruby. He made her laugh, and she could even make him laugh. He was easy to talk to, and definitely pleasing to look at, and he was passionate and loyal to his friends... Sure, he was nice, but he was also frustrating, Emma reminded herself. And he probably didn’t like her at all. She was just another girl to him. Maybe even just a means to spite his father, as David had implied.

The nobles around her laughed, and Emma faked a smile although she hadn’t heard a single word of the last minute’s conversation. She tore her eyes away from Killian and the brunette, knowing no good would come from staring at them. No good would come from being around Killian at all. He was nothing but trouble, and Emma had more than her heart to worry about now.

But Emma knew this wasn’t the first time she had told herself to stop thinking about Killian. And sadly, she expected it wouldn’t be the last.

---------------

Emma slept rather terribly throughout the night, but dawn brought good news. Aurora had sent her not just one, but two letters. Both had Emma’s name written elegantly on the envelope, but one letter was much more formal than the other - it was an invitation to Aurora and Phillip’s engagement party.

Emma’s smile widened at the second letter; an invitation to go shopping with Aurora, Ella and Grace the next day. Emma didn’t know why the invitation made her so happy, she’d never actually gone shopping after all, and she should be scared that she’d make a fool out of herself. She was scared, but apparently the joy about Aurora and Ella (and Grace) considering Emma a friend won over.

And so, Emma Swan - an adept thief - found herself on the cleanest streets of Misthaven, looking at dresses, fabrics, cosmetics and trinkets, with actual money in her purse.

They mostly talked of Aurora’s engagement and wedding (which was set to take place in the late summer). Emma made sure to sincerely congratulate Aurora, and she laughed when Ella said that she really should have placed that bet on Aurora and Phillip being married before the year was out.

“Speaking of bets,” Ella added, “the Prince’s tournament is this Sunday, right?”

“The Prince’s tournament?” Emma asked. No one had told her of any tournament, certainly not one five days from now.

The three ladies all turned to Emma with excited looks. “Oh, it will be so grand!” Aurora said. “In honour of Prince James’ fifth birthday, knights and lords will compete in a melee, and afterwards there shall be a most splendid feast at the royal palace!”

“Have you ever seen a tournament before, Emma?” Ella asked.

“No, I’ve never had the pleasure.”

In truth, she had tried to catch a glimpse of one many years ago, the excitement too much for her to withstand. But she had quickly learned that it was better to take advantage of the large crowds during tournaments and festivals – it made pickpocketing much easier.

“Lord Phillip and Lord Thomas are quite skilled,” Grace said, smirking at both Aurora and Ella.

“Yes, Lord Phillip won the jousting tournament last year.”

“That’s quite impressive,” Emma said, honestly. She knew better than to insult a lady’s fiancé.

“Sadly, he doesn’t think himself likely to do well in the melee,” Aurora said. “He’s always preferred the joust.”

“Lord Killian’s very talented with a sword though,” Ella said. “He nearly won the duelling tournament last year.”

Once again, Emma found herself having to be very wary of her expression. Aurora and Ella often sent looks her way whenever Killian was mentioned, and she was afraid they’d guessed that Emma had a... had certain, confusing thoughts where Killian was concerned.

Knowing that he was a skilled swordsman just reminded her of how she’d called him a pirate though.

“Who did win?”

“Sir Lancelot, one of the royal knights,” Aurora answered. “It was quite the exciting finale, but I do think the better man won.”

As the ladies continued talking of past tournaments, they looked at displays in the windows, fawning over a dress or a set of ribbons. Emma just went along with it, having already bought a bottle of perfume that she didn’t need, which was being carried by Robin.

At the corner of a street, the door to a store opened, and Emma was quite surprised to see who walked down the steps and onto the street.

“Mr. Scarlett!” she greeted. It was okay for a lady to greet her coachman when they met unexpectedly, right?

“Lady Emma,” Will bowed his head, though not before she caught the twinkle in his eyes.

Emma didn’t stop to exchange further words, and when her friends turned to her with questioning looks, she quickly explained that he was her coachman. They all nodded in understanding, and as they walked down the street, Emma couldn’t help but look over her shoulder to see which store Will had been to.

The answer surprised her, to say the least. Will didn’t exactly strike her as a book-loving type, he was rather the sort of person you’d expect to find in a tavern or out and about with friends. So why on earth had he been visiting a place called Maurice’s Bookstore?

#csbb #cs fanfic #cs ff #my writings #the dancing thief #chapter 5

[flannagangladys]

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[withasmoothroundstone]

Does anyone still have trouble...

...with the fact that, these days on most standard computers, you can put spaces in filenames?

...with the fact that you can put more than 8 letters/numbers in a filename?

...with the fact that most of the time, typing the file extension while naming a file is not necessary unless you’ve specifically set things up that way or it’s one of those “filetype determined by extension” saves in specific programs like GIMP?

Because I have trouble with all of these.  I am getting better (I just named an entire series of files “Igor head snuggle 01″ etc. without trying to type .jpg at the end, without eliminating the spaces or replacing them with dashes or underscores, and without saving it as IGRHSN01.JPG or IGORHD01.JPG or IGORHEAD.JPG or something.)  But it feels wrong, and I’m still ridiculously efficient at figuring out how to condense things down to 8 letters or fewer.

And don’t get me started on what directories got called on a GUI.  (Our first major computer was an Amiga 1000 so I still have a weird tendency to think of them as “drawers”, something that never really took off the way “folders” did.)  Or the fact that GUIs are the norm, and that there are avid computer users who have never seen or heard of a command line in their life.  And watch-sized computers (calculator watches -- with individual buttons -- were the nerd equivalent when I was a kid).

Or the fact that our first-ever computer stored files on tapes (like the same kind of tape you taped music on, which also doesn’t happen much these days it seems, although at least people still know tapes exist).  Or when floppy disks were usually floppy (and when they were seemingly rigid, they were just keeping the floppy bits inside and invisible), and most computers didn’t have hard drives.  Or modems.  And USB wasn’t a thing so every type of computer had a different configuration of pins for peripherals to plug in(1).  Or when all web pages were written by hand in text editors.  

Or just... argh.  I feel like my brain can’t keep up with technology anymore, even cars freak me out.(3)  Especially the new kind that don’t have keys.  I mean on the one hand it’s cool living in The Future, but in other ways my brain just can’t keep up with what technology exists let alone how to use or even coexist with some of it.  And seriously 37 (or really 36 I think, it’s 37 in August, I’m also losing count of birthdays these days so I go by year -- when I can remember the year -- and then get confused) isn’t that old.

(Photos from that Igor series coming up by the way, they’re adorable.)

(1)  Which was obnoxious enough that my dad designed something akin to USB -- but never went to the trouble of marketing or patenting it.  Which makes me imagine that tons of people were inventing similar things at the same time.  

If that confuses you, see multiple discovery/simultaneous invention.  a.k.a. also the same thing (that people’s ignorance of pisses me off about) when people start fighting over who “really” coined a word or phrase when I can vividly remember multiple simultaneous (or non-simultaneous but without having ever heard of each other) coinings.  When a concept or invention is necessary and two or more people have very similar situations, background knowledge, etc., then two or more people are very likely to come up with the exact same word, invention, etc., without having known each other.  

Famous example:  The word autism, originally coined by Bleuler to describe a symptom for his also-newly-coined diagnostic term schizophrenia, was picked up and changed in meaning almost exactly simultaneously by Kanner and Asperger to describe two almost completely overlapping(2) groups of kids they were working with.  They had roughly the same background, the same training, and the same social and cultural circumstances that made certain people stand out who hadn’t stood out that often before, so they slapped the same name on us while (for many reasons) emphasizing slightly different aspects of who we were.

(2) No, really, there are a lot of myths about both groups of kids that cause people to assume they were wildly different.  They weren’t.  Kanner’s patients were usually far more capable (speech, college, etc.) than people who’ve never read him assume they were, and Asperger’s patients were sometimes (including speech delays) less capable than people who have and haven’t read him assume (he emphasized and sometimes distorted their capabilities and downplayed their difficulties to save them from Nazi eugenics).  There are people in Asperger’s original writings who would meet DSM-IV and previous criteria for ‘autistic disorder’ or ‘PDDNOS’, and there are people in Kanner’s original writings who would meet (or be falsely assumed to meet and therefore get diagnosed with, which often amounts to the same thing given how all professionals starting with Kanner and Asperger see traits that aren’t there and miss ones that are) DSM-IV and previous criteria for ‘Asperger disorder’ or ‘PDDNOS’.  The two original doctors also both focused on different aspects of similar people, so if you sent the same kid to both people he’d be described totally differently.  Mind you I don’t even consider autism to be a thing the way most people do.  But even though I consider it to actually be a bunch of people who don’t always have significant things in common, I don’t consider the differences to have anything whatsoever to do with Kanner vs. Asperger, that’s barking up the wrong tree entirely even for people who believe fervently in these ways of categorizing people.  

(3) Including, when delirious a few years ago, part of what gave me a delusion that it was about 30 years in the future, was the car they used to drive me home from the hospital that had some kind of computer screen embedded in the dashboard (with GPS, various monitors, air conditioning controls, etc.) and other ridiculously high-tech crap.  A lot of which makes me nervous.  Hell, power windows still make me nervous -- the idea of needing power in your car in order to open the window, with no manual override, strikes me as incredibly unsafe.  And manual overrides aren’t hard to put in.  My dad and I designed about three  entirely separate ways to do it within five minutes of conversation.  And that’s conversation slowed down by the fact that I type to communicate.

#filenames #old school computing #computers #naming files #living in the future #extensions #autistic history #actuallyautistic #multiple discovery #simultaneous invention #old computers #new computers #technology #the future is here #the future

[writerspink]

K-12 Words

K

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1.1

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1.2

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2.1

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2.2

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3.1

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3.2

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4.1

pattern cave hope mile group travel blush killed seed bottom hide important let ticket timid pounds restart silent cranky keep real bright quite curved repeat trip without dart consonant mountains quiet apologize roar grip groan bolt food injury century exhausted cabin atmosphere floor it’s scold transportation delighted giant hill something build fog method rough left everyone obey deserve speak therefore soon french switch until pushed state knob hobby between surround collect fire I’ll arrive road happened certain top order astronomy inches club catch farm nibble color yourself received connect told gaze check wear English half ten fly gave box finally wait correct oh quickly person became shown minutes strong verb stars front feel fact street decided contain course surface produce building ocean class note nothing rest carefully scientists inside wheels stay green known island week less machine base ago stood

4.2

round award crowd slowly yet products, goods, services vowel himself strange whose draw team hold feel flood sent save stood yard notice warn enemy deep please flap coast music wrote safe blast behind island lizard figure famous garden correct whisper listen joined clear share net thus calf maybe cried piece fold seen england decided bank fell pair control clean telescope trouble glass float morning horse produce course hunting rest step statement contain shouted filled zigzag accident cents instrument fly single express visit desert seeds chew dome experiment break gravity against branch size low plane system ran boat game force brought understand warm common bring explain dry though language shape thousands yes equation government heat full hot check object am rule among noun power cannot able six dark ball material special heavy fine circle include built

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mark wealthy row feeling across attention ran map students inside design art mouth ring skill hot during shelter full till log (book) blossom discard bring quickly scientists party town covered wise early cram grain harm goal pause inform heal clue fame freeze badge pimple dim missionary diet dumb rod march agree stick government bulb mall ban greed skiing poison stove image grew fact material dangerous flow gap ago stack explain didn’t strong voice true drawing surface gift corner cloud since king dawn pulled dozen friends greedy burning upon knew insect decimal nervous pay foot weak smooth aware steady serve lost nonetheless beach front atlas questions less cost slight motor banner wire area carefully separate equation local minutes fast table plan fine waves fair sing dive suppose boat thousands shape among toward gas factory birds wait understand sure ship report captain human game history reflect special brave bounce though else can’t matter square syllables perhaps bill felt suddenly test direction center farmers ready anything divided general energy subject Europe moon region return believe dance members picked simple cells paint mind love cause rain exercise eggs train blue wish drop developed window difference distance heart site sum summer wall forest probably

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include cage language base red brain building feast better built demolish excess leap tower ocean plains cold claw information scholar climbed woman worry strand heavy herd common ground damp pack choose president least increase half english invent class measure dash tremble object become doubt became bare wheels continued shiver engine core couple business stars week peak numeral brought nothing touch reached uncle symbols however rumor evening inasmuch (as) force curious heat career system valley dust flock spray robber practice lonely remember luxury warm heard calm rock frighten leader difficulty best gum cheer key support universe stream bit usually fish parade balance money note cliff stand proof you’re pale machine complete cool shown street today shy easy several search unit war power caught settle itself fuel mention fresh planet plane straight period person able direct space wood seal field circle lady board besides hours passed known whole similar underline main winter wide written length reason kept interest arms brother race present beautiful store job edge past sign record finished discovered wild happy beside gone sky grass million west lay weather root instruments meet third months paragraph raised represent soft whether clothes flowers shall teacher held describe drive appreciate structure visible artificial

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afraid absorb british seat fear stretched furniture sight oxygen coward rope clever yellow albeit confess passage france fan cattle spot explore rather active death effect mine create wash printed process origin rose swift woe planets doze gasp chief perform triumph value substances tone score predict property movement harsh tube settled defend reverse ancient blood sharp border fierce plunge consider terms vision intend total schedule attract average intelligent corn dead southern glide supply convince send continent brief mural symbol crew chance suffix habit insects entered nursery especially spread drift major fig diagram guess wit sugar predator science necessary moisture park ordeal nectar fortunate flutter gun forward globe misery molecules arctic won’t actually addition washington cling rare lie steel pastime soldiers chill accordingly capital prevent solution greek sensitive electric agreed thin provide indicate northern volunteer sell tied triangle action opposite shoulder imitate steer wander except match cross speak solve appear metal son either ice sleep village factors result jumped snow ride care floor hill pushed baby buy century outside everything tall already instead phrase soil bed copy free hope spring case laughed nation quite type themselves temperature bright lead everyone method section lake iron within dictionary bargain loyal resource struggle vary capture exclaim gloomy insist restless shallow shatter talent atmosphere brilliant endure glance precious unite certain clasp depart journey observe superb treasure wisdom

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prepared journey trade delicate arrived track cotton hoe furnish exciting view grasp level branches privilege limit wrong enable ability various moreover spoil starve dollars digest advice sense accuse pretty wasn’t industry adopt loyal suggested blow treasure cook adjective doesn’t wings tools crops loud smell frail wisdom fit expect ahead lifted deed device weight gradual respect interesting arrange particular compound examine cable climate division individual talent fatal entire advantage opponent wouldn’t elements column custom enjoy grace theory suitable wife shoes determine allow marsh workers difficult repeated thrill position born distant revive magnificent shop sir army struggled deal plural rich rhythm rely poem company string locate church mystify elegant led actual responsible japanese huge fun meat observe swim office chart avoid factories block called experience win crumple brilliant located pole bought conditions sister details primary survey truck recall disease radio rate scatter decay signal approach launch hair age amount scale pounds although per broken moment tiny possible gold milk quiet natural lot stone act build middle speed count consonant someone sail rolled bear wonder smiled angle fraction Africa killed melody bottom trip hole poor let’s fight surprise French died beat exactly remain fingers clever coast explore imitate pierce rare symbol triumph ancient cling disturb expose perform remote timid bashful brief compete consider delightful honor reflex remark brink chill conquer fortunate fury intend pattern vibrant wit

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capture remark western outcome risk current bold compare resident ambition arrest furthermore desire confuse accurate disclose considerable contribute calculate baggage literacy noble era benefit orchard shabby content precious manufacture dusk afford assist demonstrate instant concentrate sturdy severe blend vacant weary carefree host limb pointless prepare inspire shallow chamber vast ease attentive source frantic lack recent distress basic permit threat analyze distract meadow mistrust jagged prefer sole envy hail reduce arena tour annual apparent recognize captivity burrow proceed develop humble resist peculiar response communicate circular variety frequent reveal essential disaster plead mature appropriate attractive request congratulate address destructive fragile modest attempt tradition ancestor focus flexible conclude venture impact generosity routine tragic crafty furious blossom concern ascend awkward master queasy release portion plentiful alert heroic extraordinary frontier descend invisible coax entrance capable peer terror mock outstanding valiant typical competition hardship entertain eager limp survive tidy antonym duplicate abolish approach approve glory magnificent meek prompt revive watchful wreckage audible consume glide origin prevent punctuate representative scorn stout woe arch authentic clarify declare grant grave opponent valid yearn admirable automatic devotion distant dreary exhaust kindle predict separation stunt

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evade debate dedicate budge available miniature petrify pasture banquet pedestrian solitary decline reassure nonchalant exhibit realistic exert abuse dictate minor monarch concept character strategy soar beverage tropical withdraw challenge kin navigate purchase reliable mischief solo combine vivid aroma spurt illuminate narrator retain excavate avalanche preserve suspend accomplish exasperate obsolete occasion myth reign sparse gorge intense revert antagonist talon aggressive alternate retire cautiously blizzard require endanger luxurious senseless portable sever compensate companion visual immense slither guardian compassion escalate detect protagonist oasis altitude assume seldom courteous absurd edible identical pardon approximate taunt achievement homonym hearty convert wilderness industrious sluggish thrifty deprive independent bland confident anxious astound numerous resemble route access jubilation saunter hazy impressive document moral crave gigantic bungle prefix summit overthrow perish visible translate comply intercept feeble exult compose negative suffocate frigid synonym appeal dominate deplete abundant economy desperate diligent commend boycott jovial onset burden fixture objective siege barrier conceive formal inquire penalize picturesque predator privilege slumber advantage ambition defiant fearsome imply merit negotiate purify revoke wretched absorb amateur channel elegant grace inspect lame tiresome tranquil boast eloquent glisten ideal infectious invest locate ripple sufficient uproar

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apprehensive dialogue prejudice marvel eligible accommodate arrogant distinct knack deposit liberate cumulative consequence strive salvage chronological unique vow concise influence lure poverty priority legislation significant conserve verdict leisure erupt beacon stationary generate provoke efficient campaign paraphrase swarm adhere eerie mere mimic deteriorate literal preliminary solar soothe expanse ignite verge recount apparel terrain ample quest composure majority collide prominent duration pursue innovation omniscient resolute unruly optimist restrain agony convenient constant prosper elaborate genre retrieve exploit continuous dissolve dwell persecute abandon meager elude rural retaliate primitive remote blunder propel vital designate cultivate loathe consent drastic fuse maximum negotiate barren transform conspicuous possess allegiance beneficial former factor deluge vibrant intimidate idiom dense awe rigorous manipulate transport discretion hostile clarity arid parody boisterous capacity massive prosecute declare stifle remorse refuge predicament treacherous inevitable ingenious plummet adapt monotonous accumulate reinforce extract reluctant vacate hazardous inept diminish domestic linger context excel cancel distribute document fragile myth reject scuffle solitary temporary veteran assault convert dispute impressive justify misleading numerous productive shrewd strategy villain bluff cautious consist despise haven miniature monarch obstacle postpone straggle vivid aggressive associate deceive emigrate flexible glamour hazy luxurious mishap overwhelm span blemish blunt capable conclude detect fatigue festive hospitality nomad supreme

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exclude civic compact painstaking supplement habitat leeway minute hoax contaminate likeness migration commentary extinct tangible originate urban unanimous subordinate collaborate obstacle esteem encounter futile cordial trait improvises superior exaggerate anticipate cope evolve eclipse dissent anguish subsequent sanctuary formulates makeshift controversy diversity terminate precise equivalent pamper prior potential obnoxious radiant predatory presume permanent pending simultaneously tamper supervise perceived vicious patronize trickle stodgy rant oration preview species poised perturb vista wince yearn persist shirk status tragedy trivial snare vindictive wrath recede peevish rupture unscathed random toxic void orthodox subtle resume sequel upright wary overwhelm perjury uncertainty prowess utmost throb pluck pique vengeance pelt urgent substantial robust sullen retort ponder whim saga sham reprimand vocation assimilate dub defect accord embark desist dialect chastise banter inaugurate ovation barter muse blasé stamina atrocity deter principal liberal epoch preposterous advocate audacious dispatch incense deplore institute deceptive component subside spontaneous bonanza ultimate wrangle clarify hindrance irascible plausible profound infinite accomplish apparent capacity civilian conceal duplicate keen provoke spurt undoing vast withdraw barrier calculate compose considerable deputy industrious jolt loot rejoice reliable senseless shrivel alternate demolish energetic enforce feat hearty mature observant primary resign strive verdict brisk cherish considerate displace downfall estimate humiliate identical improper poll soothe vicinity abolish appeal brittle condemn descend dictator expand famine portable prey thrifty visual

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stance vie instill exceptional avail strident formidable rebuke enhance benign perspective tedious aloof encroach memoir mien desolate inventive prodigy staple stint fallacy grope vilify recur assail tirade antics recourse clad jurisdiction caption pseudonym reception humane ornate sage ungainly overt sedative amiss convey connoisseur rational enigma fortify servile fastidious contagious elite disgruntled eccentric pioneer abet luminous era sleek serene proficient rue articulate awry pungent wage deploy anarchy culminate inventory commemorate muster adept durable foreboding lucrative modify authority transition confiscate pivotal analogy avid flair ferret decree voracious imperative grapple deface augment shackle legendary trepidation discern glut cache endeavor attribute phenomenon balmy bizarre gullible loll rankle decipher sublime rubble renounce porous turbulent heritage hover pithy allot minimize agile renown fend revenue versa gaunt haven dire doctrine intricate conservative exotic facilitate bountiful cite panorama swelter foster indifferent millennium gingerly conscientious intervene mercenary citadel obviously rely supportive sympathy weakling atmosphere decay gradual impact noticeable recede stability variation approximately astronomical calculation criterion diameter evaluate orbit sphere agricultural decline disorder identify probable thrive expected widespread bulletin contribution diversity enlist intercept operation recruit survival abruptly ally collide confident conflict protective taunt adaptation dormant forage frigid hibernate insulate export glisten influence landscape native plantation restore urge blare connection errand exchange

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feasible teem pang vice tycoon succumb capacious onslaught excerpt eventful forfeit crusade tract haggard susceptible exemplify ardent crucial excruciating embargo disdain apprehend surpass sporadic flustered languish conventional disposition theme plunder ignore project complaint title dramatic delivery litter experimental clinic arrogance preparation remind atomic occasional conscious deny maturity closure stressed translator animate observation physical further gently registration suppress combination amazing constructive allied poetry passion ecstasy mystery cheerful contribution spirit failed gummy commerce prove disagreement raid consume embarrass preference migrant devour encouragement quote mythology destined destination illuminating struggle accent ungrateful giggle approval confidence expose scientist operation superstitious emergency manners absolutely swallow readily mutual bound crisp orient stress sort stare comfort verbal heel challenging advertisement envious sex scar astonish basis accuracy enviable alliance specific chef embarrassed counter tolerable sympathetic gradually vanish informative amaze royal furry insist jealousy simplify quiver collaborate dedicated flexible function mimic obstacle technique archaeologist fragment historian intact preserve reconstruct remnant commence deed exaggeration heroic impress pose saunter wring astound concealed inquisitive interpret perplexed precise reconsider suspicious anticipation defy entitled neutral outspoken reserved sought equal absorb affect circulate conserve cycle necessity seep barren expression meaningful plume focused genius perspective prospect stunned superb transition assume guarantee nominate

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install reticent corroborate regretfully strength murder concise cunning intention holy satire query confused progression disillusion background mundane abrupt multiple enormously introduce emulate harmful pragmatic pity rebut liberate enthusiastic elucidate camaraderie disparage nature creep profitability impression racist sobriety occupy autonomy currently amiable reiterate reproduce cripple modest offer atom provincial augment ungratefully expansion yield rashly allude immigration silence epitome exacerbate somber avid dispute vindicate collaborate manufacturer embellish superficial propaganda incompetent objective diminish statistics endure ambivalent perpetuate illuminate phenomenon exasperate originality restrict anxiety anthropology circumstances aesthetic manufacturing conventional dubious vulnerable reality precedent entity success term critical repair underscore stepmother republican hesitantly classic wary contents prediction immediate invoke notorious implicit excluding input skeptical foster element punish frank humanity profound dessert orthodox substance disappear encourage neighborhood elder superfluous naive ascertain complacent resilient deafening military tend prudent glare acceptance skillfully induce monster beam gullible conciliate vessel petty cantankerous disclose archaeology anecdote disdain electronics substantiate subjective tourism advisable joyful incredible provocative psychological ruins discipline condone indifferent misfortune judgmental industrialize tasty assume astute mission mar protective definitely escape oppress shocked virtual zealous endorse qualification hostile eccentric abstract disparate geographical scrutinize generalization tolerate activity claim dogmatic influential obsolete extol implausible subsequent resource chronic benevolent improve confidential ambiguous seriously dearth perplex hatred throughout dine contemporary evoke essentially economic flagrant obscure alleviate eloquent dreaadful clumsy sympathy victim condemn vigor condescend spontaneous quell reprehensible substantially sleeve equivocal ironic decry errand articulate progressive eradicate refreshments elicit aspiration recently exemplary bribery theoretical disingenuous partisan revere particle nostalgia self-aggrandizement debunk tyranny rhetoric hierarchy warning whimsical venerate commend assert miserable awful vibe constrain undermine explicit differentiate compliment scrupulous contempt erroneous ideal refute imply cynical rash presume insight revival vary delay renounce indignant offensive temperate circumstantial export peep logo advertise suppress distort chunk convoluted denounce overwhelming fertility rigorous acquire arrogant university antagonize profitable indulgent strategic breathing idiosyncrasy profession frugal discern accommodation adversary incredulous disturbance digress social belie roam smug continual pertinent voluntarily elite subtle blame sincerity lick horror censure involvement candid infer futile impetuous exploit bewilder sustain diligent sincere protect sealed musical empathy callous parenthetical insure acorn sarcasm seize sacrificially allege emphatic irrelevant progress diplomatic stunned improvise deride reconcile meticulous deject scientifically incontrovertible pressure justify gloomy depict supplant endurance analogous diary bolster slip contemplate pesticide glow religious advocate negligent creator lament fundamental embrace throne inherent inferior valuable thrive trivial pretense reserved capricious refresh refusal flight boost explanation coherent prevalent tenacious official royalty assassin rub poach delete

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warrant circumscribed somewhat explosive optimistic mandate previously detract opinion intuitive feasible intimate persistent humble simplicity tempt deliberate painful unethical fundamentals discrepancy remorse pessimistic possibility conclusion acknowledge impregnate soberly creation paralyze suitability oblige tranquil medal arbitrate pacify illusory susceptible vibrate vengeance infection democratic stressful grave speculative sample identification stifle obligation revenge organization namely mediocre practical scream weaken consensus affectionate deficient treacherous console isolation ingenious memory melodrama despair awestruck composition regret recommendation celebrity decision devoid opaque ornamentation longevity participate dread restore interrogate aid accordingly mislead embarrassment optimism domestic apt funds virtue geography fundamentally thoroughly press despite horrible chilling rental esteemed disappointment innovative contemplation assign popularize haunt deafen serene percent estrangement suffer extravagant throng estimate comment priesthood mass dreadfully promote periphery animated saying relate clarity triple derivative succeed distortion register suicide improvement discreet inquisition probable curative incident praise convenience baffle covet dreadful genuinely weary undisturbed disgruntled humility renown nonchalant monopoly comedy vague decisive inconsequential announcement fabricated nevertheless vigilant scarce neglectful hushed attainment tedious explode snatch pslm agency sentimental tension adhere meanwhile sacred avert conformity likewise challenger accessible responsibility peril contact event roast fallible catastrophic competitor violate resolute deceive exaggeration discredit intolerable approve paste dimly novelist demeanor norm politician satisfaction obvious vehicle reservation defer involve restoration crush audible assistant backpack attain inanimate commemorate confrontation emigration parasite disperse quantitative laughter policy vulgar occasionally repay effective eulogy starvation empty therapeutic overall immortal encompass inappropriate opportune engagement illustrate turmoil observatory classification expression reminiscence comedian invention depress remedy protagonist gesture texture diplomatic election prolong conducive emotional invigorate curiosity expressive %

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