of course it's not true. it's too amazing to be true

friendship bracelets // stiles stilinski

Summary: Stiles & Y/N discover that true love isn’t anything like they expected it to be

Requested: no

Pairing: Stiles & Y/N

Warning: yes, mature language, themes, & smut

Masterlist

When he was 3 years old, he watched in amazement as the big truck pulled up to the curb of the suburban neighborhood he called home. With his nose pressed against the glass he watched two men step out of the truck and start unloading boxes onto the driveway. The simple action fascinated him for reasons he couldn’t explain.

The sun caught the exterior of the bright red minivan that pulled into the driveway, causing him to squint. He couldn’t believe his eyes when a girl hopped out of the backseat.

“Woah.” He mumbled against the glass, his hot breath causing it to fog up. Quickly wiping it away, he watched as she danced around the lawn while the rest of her family started moving boxes. Her pigtails bounced behind her as she ran around.

“Stiles? What are you doing?” His dad asked curiously. Before he could answer, his father noticed the moving truck and family moving in across the street. “Wanna go say hi?” His father offered, placing a hand on the small boy’s shoulder. Nodding furiously, he smiled up at his father. 

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A Series of Unfortunate Events : the recipe to a good adaptation

This is a short analysis of the recent adaptation A Series of Unfortunate Events by Netflix. I will not mention everything here, it would require much more time and analysis but here is a general appreciation. Careful for spoilers !

Adaptations are quite tricky to accomplish because being true to the original work while bringing novelty to the piece is not so easy. The best adaptations are often the ones that manage to channel the spirit of the original work. A Series of Unfortunate Events is a very successful example of this. It was already visible in the first trailer where Lemony Snicket actually walks on the set of the filming to tell us not to watch this series. Right here, you have three core elements of the original series : our narrator-character, the breaking of the fourth-wall and the plea not to look into this horrific story. That last element actually is a known way to catch the reader/viewer’s attention and make him want to know more.

When it comes to A Series of Unfortunate Events, the character of Lemony Snicket is crucial. Therefore the adaptation needs to be perfectly true to his features. As a child, I really believed Lemony Snicket was this mysterious author hidding from malevolent authorities. The fact that Lemony is actually out of the story ,since he is the author/narrator, and a full part of it builds the whole myth around this series.
When I saw the movie, I did not get that feeling of mystery around Lemony mainly because it is not cleary explicited that he is part of all this : the viewer doesn’t see on-screen any important hint that Lemony is a central character of the story, he is presented above all as the writer.
In the Netflix series, Lemony is the first person the viewer visually encounters, just like in the books. The fact that you can see him entirely makes him a reassuring presence throughout the show : he is your guide. The show stages this aspect very cleverly by blending Lemony in the situations the Baudelaires find themselves in, usually through his costume.

Thanks to this process, the narrator’s role is fully depicted. A narrator that addresses directly to the reader/viewer is usually out of the story and Lemony is indeed “out” since he is telling the events. But Lemony is also “in” as an important character. The show drops hints along the way which keep getting bigger gradually : his investigation, the letters to Beatrice, the fact that he is being chased, among other things, and of course the reveal of the picture with Olaf in the last episode.

All these proofs show that Lemony really is involved in this story. It is very fortunate that they kept the dedications to Beatrice at the beginning of each segment of the story because she is the one who ties Lemony to the story. She actually acts as his muse, she is the main reason why he writes, the name Beatrice being a reference to Dante’s own muse.
Since he is an « in-between » character, literally the bridge between you and the story, Lemony is the one who constantly breaks the fourth-wall. This aspect is so crucial in A Series of Unfortunate Events. It allows Lemony to act as the antic chorus or Prologue : “If you are interested in stories with happy endings, you would be better off reading some other book. In this book, not only is there no happy ending, there is no happy beginning and very few happy things in the middle.” (The Bad Beginning).
With those few lines, the essence of the plot is completely laid before your eyes, just like the ancient tragedies. In the series, apart from those lines, the opening song has the exact same role : “Every single episode is nothing be dismay.”
The breaking of the fourth-wall is also at the core of both series because story-telling mecanisms are explained through it. In the Reptile Room, Lemony explains the dramatic irony which is then again an aspect of the antic tragedies. As I remember it, the book series crossed the fourth-wall to teach something to the reader : a word, writing techniques and less straightforwardly, literary references. All these elements were fortunately brought into the show as well.

Now Lemony is mainly the one to break the wall, as allowed by his narrator status. What is unsettling for the viewer is when Count Olaf breaks it, usually to advertise the TV show and stare at the camera for a couple of seconds. This leads to the other important aspect of an adaptation : the creativity. The writers did not only represent Olaf, they actually add depths according to the new medium : what would Olaf do if he was in a TV series ? Break the fourth-wall and sing its opening sequence !

A short word on the amazing cast, especially Neil Patrick Harris who pulled out a very good Count Olaf. This character is very complex to play, he needs the right amount of villainy, humor and the talent of an actor who can play a character playing other characters. Jim Carrey brought too much of his own eccentricity to the character and you saw more of the actor than of the character. Neil Patrick Harris really understood and nailed all of Olaf’s facets.

Hence adaptations would be rather dull without creativity and novelty.
Sure a lot of dialogues are actually taken word by word from the books because they are good as they are but an adaptation needs to adapt precisely even more when the media is different.

A book and a  TV show are of course very different mainly because of the images. In a book, a description can only be completed by the reader’s imagination. In a show, what you see allows very little space for imagination. This is why a successful adaptation is one that can get the spirit, the ambiance of the world, conveyed by the original words, and transcripts it on screen. From the language of worded images to the language of filming.

The unsettling ambiance, the faded colours and surreal pastel imagery are very fitting for the Baudelaires’ story. The main aspect of the series is its dark humor and stories that you find rarely in children’s book : one death if not more per book, usually a gruesome one. The TV show manages to render the baudelairian world : this very specific atmosphere, the feeling of being oppressed by all the places in which the Baudelaires find themselves.

Finally the most important aspect of an adaptation is that it must appeal to all audiences.What is complicated about making adaptations is that they are received by two different audiences : the one who knows the original material and the one who doesn’t and their first interaction with the original universe is through the adaptation.
That’s why getting the atmosphere right is so important, it shows the specificities of the work in another way which should not “betray” the original story.
An adaptation is full of references that will be immediately recognized only by the ones familiar with the original piece. These references show the adaptors love for the original work and also creates a complicity between them and the well-aware viewer. Which book lover did not scream at the sugar bowl in episode 2 or at those four simple words : the world is quiet here ?The beauty of references is that they are hidden, they could be seen as completely normal by an unaware viewer : the scene of the sugar bowl seems very innocent.

It allows the adaptors to play on what the reader already knows. Take the first appearance of the Quagmire mother and father: most of the book readers thought them to be the Baudelaire mother and father even though they know very well it is impossible. This builds up until the revelation in the first part of the Miserable Mill. Not only this plays with the well-aware reader but also stages already the Quagmire trio and most of their backstory. Being already intertwined since the first episode with the main story, they meet naturally at the end of the season and do not appear previously unmentionned like in the books.

As thrilling as this is, if the adaptation is only met for the experts, it won’t be a total success. An adaptation also needs to speak to new viewers who have no knowledge of the original work. This is why there is a need for balance of references so the newcomer will not spent his time on Wikipedia trying to figure out what happens. How the series introduced right away the Quagmires is actually rather clever : it allows the newcomer not to be lost in all the key characters.

Lastly, this show really catches the core humor of the original work by playing on the fact that it is an adaptation and therefore needs to depart sometimes from the original sequences. At the beginning of the Miserable Mill (episode 8), Mr. Poe freaks out because the Baudelaires are gone and in the middle of his panicked speech, he says : “It’s off-book !’. And indeed it is, because in the books the Baudelaires don’t go to Lucky Smells Lumbermill by themselves but are brought there by Mr Poe. An adaptation makes choices and the show plays on that aspect.

Of course, this show would need a 300 pages-long essay because of all the references and allusions not only to literature but also foreshadowing the main story. This show completely smashes the movie adaptation which did not manage to really transcript well neither the atmosphere nor the characters.

Remember, an adaptation is not a search of perfection because it will never be exactly like the original material. The change of medium requires changes in the story and the story-telling. The intelligence with which the choices are made makes all the difference between a good and a bad adaptation.

anonymous asked:

I feel so uncomfortable reading interviews where Jimin says he feels and sees JK as his younger brother... I mean, I'm? As a shipper, it's just.. Idk if you'll get my point, but it's like I reconsider all of my old stances on them, and if I've actually imagined all of the sexual tension, heart-eyes, and stuff like that ://// could you help me? Idk how to feel.

warning: jikook trash post. Oh, my baby bun, don’t feel uncomfortable. Jikook is an amazing ship, isn’t it. Cute, playful, full of smiles. They’re very intimate, and frankly speaking, we’ll never know what their true relationships are, it’s true. We all imagine stuff like this: jk pinning jm, jk being jeonlous, sexual things and etc, but don’t get caught into your fantasies. They are cute whatever they are. You don’t know the true relationship between them, yeah? They might be brothers, but they might be lovers, too ;) There’re too many mights. So, they have special bounds, can’t deny. Also, do you expect Jimin to say: “Oh, we’re fucking”? Lmao, of course he’ll say “Jk is my baby maknae” or “he’s like my brother”. Jimin can say lots of things that he actually doesn’t mean, we all do such stuff but he cannot not do it. However, I can’t call this ship brotherly. People who don’t ship jikook can call them siblings but when you dig into a bit deeper… 

To me, jikook has a very profound relationship. Look, there’re too many receipts. You can’t explain this phenomenon

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Mikasa meets the cruel world: Attack on Titan in a nutshell

More intelligent people than me have probably pointed this out long before me, but it still amazes me how much Mikasa’s upbringing truly is a metaphor for the entire series.

We start of with this carefree, peaceful family living in this isolated cabin in the woods, distanced from the outside. A comfortable existence, but their family is well aware that beyond their warm home lie problems: the Ackerman clan is still thought to be prosecuted, and Asians are sought by traffickers for their rare appearance and blood–they’re a different race, and this is useful to some.

And then one peace is interrupted: three men break in, destroying comfort and killing innocent people, and they’re there solemnly because of the physical aspects of the family, their rare appearance. Through this experience, Mikasa lost her hope and will to live, and also got to understand the cruel nature of the world she lived in. 

And then, a sudden event that changed the course of that day. The young Eren Jaeger barges in, takes out the oppressive intruders, and most importantly, restores hope to her. Just like the kidnappers, Eren came from outside of her world…but instead of bringing her more cruelty, Eren brought Mikasa a way to go against said cruelty–to fight back. The world is cruel and brutal and it crushes the weak–thus, the only way to survive is to fight back against the oppression–and that’s what Mikasa proceeds to do.

This precise event can be translated with total accuracy into the entirety of the story–it’s the exact same thing the walled world went through. The walldians lived in peace and comfort (more or less), isolated from the rest of the world, because the outside meant danger for them. We’ve always known this danger to be the titans–the basement taught us the reality though. The entire outside world has a pre-determined relationship with the walldians–not because of who, but because of what they are. Some see them as danger and want them extinct for safety measures, some see them as useful tools for their own purposes. 

Does this sound familiar? Ackermans are prosecuted because they’re a danger to the kings rule, and Asians are sought after because their origin makes them different. Mikasa’s family is a metaphor for all walldians, for all those wanted dead by the world or used as weapons in Marley’s titan army. Their situation is identical too: they live excluded from the outside world, in a pseudo-peace, which is one day interrupted by the arrival of three outsiders (kidnappers, RBA). Through their actions, those outsiders remind the inhabitants of the cruel, oppressive world they find themselves in (a grim reminder). And then, another outsider appears, restoring hope and teaching the oppressed how to free themselves: to fight. This is Eren when he barges into the cabin, and Grisha, originally from beyond the walls. when he entrusts the founding and attack titans to Eren, who would later become humanities hope and, in some way, inspires them to fight back. Both of these stories are perfect parallels.

It’s also definitely not a coincidence that the Eren-saves-Mikasa flashback was included in Isayama’s first draft of chapter 1, in flashback format. All the dialogue about Mikasa being part of a nearly extinct, different race, and Eren telling her to fight back, were there from day one. In the present time she even says that she believes Eren has the strength to overcome the world’s issues and bring hope to mankind–an even stronger parallel between her situation and all of walldia. 

Heck, it certainly isn’t a coincidence either that, during ch 14, primordial desire, aka humanities first ever victory against oppression and the first climax of the story, Eren flashes back to that very moment

On one hand it sets up other humans, aka Marley as antagonists, who’re oppressing Paradis due to the blood flowing through its inhabitants. At the same time, it redraws all the parallels mentioned beforehand by straight up comparing humanities struggle to that struggle in the woods. 

These two panels really affirm everything I mentioned above–Mikasa’s “origin story” is it’s own microcosm that foretells the entire core struggle of the series: Eldians seeking freedom from oppression. And the fact that such an early scene remains a total metaphor to the story even 90 chapters and a ton of plot twists and revelations later, just goes to show how much of a thought out story attack on titan has been for the longest time. 

April 1st (Fred Weasley x Reader smut)

Request: Hello, can I make a request I’m sorry if they are closed but could it be Fred x reader smut where everyone is celebrating the twins birthday and after the party reader has a surprise for him because he says he feels ‘old’ please and thank you Have a nice day goodbye.

I’m a freakin slacker. It’s definitely not April 1st. Just pretended bc I think I’ve gotten a bit better at smut. But, keep in mind I’m still learning, it’s not the best but it was still fun bc I love Fred.

It was April 1st 2017, the Weasleys were gathered around the small dining room table in The Burrow.

Molly was holding two glorious chocolate cakes that she then set gently in front of her twin sons, who looked greedily at each other then at their beautiful cakes.

They were iced thickly with thirty nine candles and due to limited space, some softly floated above the rest.

You were sitting next to your husband, Fred, admiring his longing face.

You adored the way he still bit his lip like a teenager, awaiting the delicious chocolate cake.

Fred looked young for his age, so did his brother. He was starting to get flecks of grey in his flaming hair and had a couple laugh lines, but the childlike gleam in his eyes made him look as if he were 20.

The families sang and after cake they all sat in the sitting room, passing presents to the twins.

“Ron! This is from MY store” George groaned as he opened a box of sniveling snack boxes.

You laughed as you saw a chucking Ron earn a slap on the shoulder from Hermione.

Fred was opening a gift from his mother.

“Oh… Mum, you’re so thoughtful” He said flatly as he held up a pair of socks.

“All of yours have holes in them!” She stated, she leaned close to him and you barely caught what she said.

“They’re enchanted to make the wearer do an Irish jig” Mrs. Weasley giggled softly.

Fred suddenly stood and hugged her tightly.

George was ripping open another present. His face suddenly went white as he read the note inside, yours was identical when you realized he accidentally opened your gift to Fred.

His eyes flicked over to you, wider than you’ve ever seen them.

“That’s not for you” you whispered quietly through gritted teeth.

“Thank Merlin” He sighed, though still looking disgusted at what he’d just read. “Angelina’d kill us both”

Thankfully everyone was too distracted by the present from Bill and Fleur Fred was opening to notice your little scuffle.

“Oi, Freddie, this ones yours” George said, looking glad to get the note as far away from him as possible, and tossed it to Fred after he was done thanking Bill and Fleur for the new assortment of colorful handkerchiefs.

Fred, seeing it was from you, smiled and opened the letter.

His eyes widened much like his brother but his face became almost as red as his hair.

'I have on that lacey black thing you like, Happy Birthday, Love’

Fred gulped deeply, and quickly crumpled the note and shoved it in his pocket. You knew he secretly loved it when you would turn him on in public.

He locked eyes with you, a familiar mischievous grin sliding across his face.

“There’s more.” You said, giggling.

Fred looked back down at the gift and pulled apart the tissue paper. His jaw dropped, he grabbed and brought the tickets closer to his eyes to inspect them.

“Vat are those?” Asked Fleur, curiously.

“Tickets to America” Fred said breathlessly.

“You get to go on a muggle plane!?” Exclaimed Arthur, his voice full of longing.

You and Fred did okay for yourselves but we’re never able to afford trips. You’d been saving since last year to buy them.

“(Y/N)” Fred said looking up over at you, eyes full of disbelief.

“Well, now I wish I’d kept it” grumbled George.

Fred stood and walked over to you, engulfing you in a tight, loving hug.

“I love you” he murmured over and over in your hair.

“I love you too” you said back when he pulled away, arms still around your waist.

“Where In America?” Asked Hermione.

“New York City!” Your replied, excitedly.
“I’ve never been there but I’ve heard it’s amazing”

“Is it a big city?” asked Arthur, sitting, obviously very curious.

“Very, its full of sky scrapers, lights and people”

“Confounding” he murmured to himself.

“You sure at his age, Fred’ll able to handle that?” Ron chuckled, lightly pushing his older brother.

Seeing the sharp look from Fred, Hermione whispered a threatening “Ron” through gritted teeth.

Not getting the clue as usual, Ron continued.

“I really should have gotten you some hair dye for that grey, but I guess it happens when you get old-OW!” He shouted as Hermione jabbed her elbow into his ribs.

“Well, as much as I’m thankful for you all being here I’m going to have to retire to my flat” said Fred, standing.

You could tell he was upset by the way his face twisted, trying not to show his feelings.

“C'mon Freddie, its only 10” Ron said grabbing his brothers shoulder.

“I guess my age is getting to me” Fred snapped, shrugging off his hand.

“Love you all, thanks for coming” and he aparated to your flat.

The room was quiet for a moment.

“Guess that’s my cue” You said with a chuckle, trying to clear a bit of the tension.

You kissed Hermione, Mrs. Weasley, and Fleur’s cheeks and hugged Mr. Weasley, Ron, and Bill.

“Goodnight, thanks for coming”

“Bye, (Y/N)”

Everyone waved as you aparated away.

You felt the pressure from aparatting fade as you appeared in your flat.

“Fred?” You spoke softly.

“(Y/N), You-you don’t have to worry about it, I’m fine.” Fred stuttered.

You saw him sitting in his large chair in the sitting room.

“You know he didn’t mean anything by it” You said as you walked over to him and took at seat comfortably across his lap, your legs over the arm of the chair.

Fred let his head rest on your chest, feeling the soft expansion and depression of your lungs and and the rhythmic beating of your heart.

“It’s true” he stated bluntly.

He heard your breath catch, you guided his chin to look up at you.

“Fred, it’s not true.” You said just as blunt back.

You looked deep into each other’s eyes for a moment then you lightly pressed your lips to his round, freckled nose.

He shuddered at the sensation.

“If anything I love your more with a bit of gray, it’s sexy” You whispered as you kissed his temple

“Oh yeah?” He asked chucking “You think an old man is sexy?”

“Love, I’m the same age as you, do you think I’m old?” You asked as you kissed his cheekbone.

“Of course not!” He said defensively.

He paused and looked at you.

“I’m kinda starting to see your point”

You laughed and and finally kissed his lips deeply.

He moaned softly, bringing his hand up and brushing your hair behind your ear and then rested it on your cheek.

You then moved your legs to straddle his lap.

He brought his hands down and rested them on you bum.

You deepened the kiss by dramatically turning your head, brushing your nose gently across his cheek.

You both parted for air.

You looked in his bright eyes, running your fingers though his hair.

“I guess if you’re such and old man, you won’t be able to fuck me on the kitchen counter.”

His eyes darkened, the same boyish smirk you knew since Hogwarts appeared across his face.

He stood, still holding your bum and carried you over and sat you on the counter, then immediately dipped his head down to collide his lips with yours.

Your fingers were knotted in his locks and his fingers glided under your shirt softly caressing your hips.

You felt his erection growing in his kakis on your thigh.

You brought a hand down and rubbed him through his pants, his mouth causing his breath to hitch.

He pulled from your lips and kissed down your neck, stopping to suck and nibble on your skin.

“Fuck, Fred” You moaned as he found a particularly sensitive spot.

He pulled away causing you to let out a cry, he grabbed both your cheeks with his large hands and looked in your eyes.

“I love you” he whispered, looking desperately at you, as if he were afraid you didn’t feel the same.

You replicated his movements and brought your smaller hands to his cheeks.

“I love you” You repeated.

Fred was satisfied with this and a huge smile grew on his face, his crows feet crinkling as he looked at you.

“Are you going to do something?” You asked raising your eyebrows, your cheeks starting to turn pink at the way he was staring at you.

He let out and chuckle.

“I just still can believe you’re mine”

Before you could answer he kissed you passionately, only parting for a a second for to pull your shirt over your head.

You worked at his magenta, paisley button up shirt that clashed magnificently with his red hair.

He pushed his tongue in your mouth as you slipped his shirt off his shoulders.

He explored fervently as he pulled your jeans down, revealing the tight, black, lacey panties that drove him wild.

He moaned at the sight and before you could, quickly unbuckled his belt and pulled off his pants.

He ran his fingers across your stomach as he pulled away, kissing down you chest then removing your bra, eagerly.

He sucked on your nipples, twirling his tongue causing you to let out a strangled moan.

You reached your hands down and pulled his rock hard erection from his boxers and started to stoke it up and down, feeling the pre cum dribble down your hand.

He groaned and pulled away, tilting his head back.

He slipped two fingers into your panties and felt your warm, wet heat.

“So wet for me” he moaned softly in your ear “Always so wet for me”

He entered his fingers, stretching you out quickly.

You stroked his cock faster causing him to bite his lip.

He pulled his fingers out of you and rubbed your swollen clit, spreading your juices. You writhed, bucking your hips against his fingers.

Then without warning he pulled your panties aside, still wanting to feel them when he fucked you.

You gasped at the cold air hitting you warm core.

You let go of his penis and wrapped your arms around his neck.

“Please, Fred” You begged and he rubbed his tip up and down your folds.

He entered, barely filling you, then pulled out, causing you to whine.

He loved to make you beg.

“How much to your want my cock?” He asked, his voice rough in your ear.

“I’ll do anything” you begged, trying to wrap your legs around him to pull him closer.

“Anything? I guess I can’t refuse that.” He stated and shoved into you deeply.

You both groaned loudly, the feeling of this throbbing erection buried deep inside you was like no other.

He gave you open mouth kisses on your neck as he started to thrust in and out slowly.

The pace was agonizing

“H-harder” you stuttered the command, and Fred followed orders immediately.

His pace went faster, and faster.

The sounds of skin slapping and moans of both yours and Fred’s filled the air.

You felt the knot in your stomach growing and you knew you were close. By the look on Fred’s face, he was too.

Then he hit the special place in you that gave you insane pleasure.

You screamed his name as he hit it over and over.

“I’m close, love” he said with staggering breath, his face was heavenly.

“Me too” You squealed.

You clenched around him tightly, you could feel his cock twitch and the sweet sound the left his lips as he finished inside you caused the knot to burst.

Moans fell from your lips as you leaned forward, pressing kisses to his neck and chest as you both rode out your orgasms.

When he pulled out completely, he wrapped his arms around you and pressed your chest to his in a tight hug.

You tangled your fingers in his hair and nestled your nose in his neck.

“I appreciate you a lot, and I don’t know what I’d do without you” he said, muffled from his lips being on your shoulder.

“And I’m excited for that trip” He added.

“Me too” you agreed, humming softly.

“And about that 'anything’ you said you’d do…”

You giggled.

“ Yeah, what about it?”

He looked embarrassed at you, his cheeks turning a bit pink under his freckled skin.

“Could you, um.. swing by mum and dad’s and pick up the rest of that cake?”

You laughed loudly, rolling your eyes your boyish husband.

“I got so mad, I forgot to grab it and it’d be embarrassing going back to get it after I stormed out” he said looking down at you with a small smile.

You pressed a finger to his lips.

“Consider it done.”

Title: Love was made for Me and You(Reader x Bucky Barnes) 

Summary: The anti-Valentine’s Day reader decides to plan something special for their hopeless romantic of a boyfriend. 

Word Count: 1547

Warnings: It’s just really cute OKAY

A/N: My lil heart really can’t take a romantic Bucky but here it is anyway… I’m deceased. Here’s the song I was listening to, originally sang by Nat King Cole but I loove the Frank Sinatra version. I hope you enjoy!!

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I would like to see a sort of phantom-of-the-opera themed fic, where Will works for the opera, not as one of the singers, but in the orchestra pit.

Originally posted by janexausten

Originally posted by helloyangmal

(long stream-of-thought summary of the story below)

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Okay but a HoO Enchanted AU, with a mix of mythology and fairytale references??

  • Where the demigods (or maybe minor gods??) Annabeth and Jason seem so perfectly suited for each other, obviously they’re made for a fairytale romance in Olympus.
  • But Jason’s stepmother Hera hates Annabeth and sends her to Earth, where the monsters who do Hera’s bidding should be able to get rid of her with relative ease.
  • Annabeth isn’t beaten that easily though. She escapes the first round of monsters but ends up hopelessly lost.
  • Percy Jackson sees her scaling a billboard (to get a better vantage point) and assumes she’s in trouble. In the process of trying to save her, he causes her to lose concentration and fall - right on top of him. “One of the many reasons I hate heights,” he says.
  • Percy takes her home, because he’s not going to leave a poor girl in a torn up dress alone on the mean streets of New York.
  • When it becomes apparent that she can’t be trusted alone in his apartment (she keeps building miniature cities out of everything she can get her hands on), Percy takes her with him to his job as a teacher; where her stories rile the kids up a little bit too much.
  • He almost tells her she needs to leave, but the absolute awe in her eyes as they walk around New York makes him breathless, and he’s way too much of a softie, anyway.
  • He gives her the teasing nickname of Princess.
  • Meanwhile, Jason has gone looking for Annabeth, aided by their friends: one of whom is actually a spy working for Hera, thwarting him every time he gets close to finding Annabeth.
  • Percy has an absolutely epic bromance with Piper, which Annabeth keeps confusing for romantic love, leading to many hilarious misunderstandings and Piper making snide remarks about Percy being so clueless he wouldn’t recognise true love if it hit him in the face (cue Annabeth accidentally punching him).
  • No one has ever infuriated Annabeth like Percy does, and sometimes she wants to judo flip him, and sometimes she wants to kiss him…
  • Oh dear.
  • Jason is a charming hero, though, so of course he eventually finds Annabeth and sweeps in to take her back home where they can get married immediately.
  • Annabeth feels confused though, for the first time in her life. She asks Jason to take her on a date, because that’s what Percy said couples do, and Jason, ever the perfect gentleman, agrees.
  • Their date is meant to end at the Gods and Goddesses Ball.
  • Annabeth goes to Piper for help getting ready. Cue amazing bonding while shopping montage, because it turns out Piper hates shopping way more than Annabeth and is hopeless for most of the trip.
  • Until they have this big heart to heart about Percy and Piper realises Annabeth loves him as much as he loves her, and Piper determines that she’s gonna get them together.
  • Annabeth is absolutely stunning at the ball. Percy realises just how much he really loves her, but he still believes she’s going to go home with Jason, so he doesn’t tell her, because he can’t bear the thought of that rejection.
  • Then there’s a mishap with a golden apple, and Annabeth needs to be awoken by True Loves Kiss™.
  • Jason is unsuccessful, and Percy fully expects him to be furious - but instead he’s just desperate for Annabeth to be saved, and begs Percy to kiss her.
  • He does.
  • She wakes up.
  • Hera is furious and arrives to smite them herself; but Annabeth and Jason are trained warriors, Piper makes up for lack of training with pure guts, and now that he knows how she feels there’s no way Percy is ever letting Annabeth go. Plus he’s rather fond of NYC and doesn’t want to see it blasted off the map.
  • There’s an epic battle atop the Empire State Building, that begins with all of them fighting the goddess, dwindles to just Percy and Annabeth, and then leaves Annabeth to face Hera alone.
  • She outwits her, outmatches her, and takes the goddess down.
  • And then Percy slides down the roof and falls on top of Annabeth.
  • And it’s pretty much the best kiss in the rain of all time.
  • Jason looks strangely familiar to Piper. She’s still trying to figure out where she knows him from when they run back to Olympus for their own fairytale wedding.
  • Annabeth goes to school to study Architecture.
  • Percy writes a best selling children’s book about a princess from another dimension who defends Earth from monsters.
  • And they live Happily Ever After.
6

[PIC/TRANS] FTISLAND’s Cosmopolitan Magazine June 2017 Interview

FTISLAND is celebrating their 10th anniversary this year. Honestly, in Korea, it is not an easy thing to maintain a group, let alone a band, for 10 years. 

Hongki: Yes, indeed. When we were younger when we were going to debut, we didn’t really want to debut. Since we debuted when we were still really inexperienced, (now) music-wise, we still have so many things that we want to try, and we have so many things that we still want to do better. Honestly, for several years, we didn’t really have the ambition to have promotional activities since we came to do music. The numerical figure of “10 years″ somewhat holds a heavy meaning to us now.

To be able to stay solid for a long time, what do you think is your driving force?

Keep reading

Your Wedding dress + Venue

 PART ONE

PART TWO COMING SOON


Derek:

“Is it too much for him?” you asked your best friend as the saleswoman placed a beautiful sheer veil upon your head.

“Are you kidding me? Too much? He’ll be worried because he will not only see his wife but the hottest woman on earth in front of him.” She squealed happily.


And it was true; the moment he saw you his heart beat a little faster, and he realized just how lucky he was.

“I think the woods would be a great location for our wedding, babe.” You heard Derek mumble as his eyes diverted from the screen to your eyes.

“The woods? Like, the ones you run in and become all scary in?” You weren’t mad, just worried about the supernatural taking an interest in your wedding ceremony.

“It’s my second home. I want to feel connected to the earth where my ancestors fought for people like me to have the ability to get married to someone who accepts me.”


And so it was done. Once all your guests had arrived, your maid of honor was able to surround the premises in mountain ash, so nothing could come in and ruin your fairytale. Of course, Stiles had no issue brushing it all off when the festivities were over.


Brett:

“Wow, girl. Brett has an amazing sense of style.” You heard Lydia say as she saw you wearing the dress that he wanted you to try on.

“I know. It’s beautiful. I’ll just have to tell him it didn’t fit, or that I didn’t like it.”

“Why?” She asked with a long laugh.

“Because this is the dress I’m walking down the isle in and its bad luck for the groom to see the bride in her dress before the wedding, hm?” You responded, knowing your fiance knew you way too well.

“Dude!”

“Dude…”

“Okay, don’t tell Y//N, but I am totally getting married in here.” Brett told his best man as he bounced his lacrosse ball off the wall.

“Bro, it’s like totally abandoned.” Brett heard his friend say.

“Nah, give it some love and a wicked makeover, and you will find the venue of your dreams. Let’s buy it.”

“Alright,man…let’s find the owners.”


And he did find them. They were confused, but boy did he make you happy with the most beautiful location ever.


Isaac:

“You know, getting married in Mexico is crazy. But no, you’re also flying all your guests over in two days AND planning your wedding in three days while you’re on vacation.” You heard your best friend say over the phone as she was on the plane from France to Cancun, where your beloved Isaac had proposed to you only a week ago. It was sudden, but he wanted to get married to you as soon as possible; even if that meant during a short two week stop in Mexico before your flight to Beacon Hills. 

“I know, kid. I just love him so much, and its pretty exciting as well.” You explained as you grabbed a beautiful white dress off the rack.

“I think I just found my dress…” You said before she could even reply.

“Really? Snapchat it to me you gorgeous idiot!” You heard her whisper-yell, knowing she would be much louder if she wasn’t on a plane.

So you did, and she agreed. That, my friend, was your dress.

Tomorrow was your wedding, and all your guests had arrived. The only issue was, there was no venue. You and Isaac had spend hours searching for an easy venue, yet most were booked or had a long process for renting. You decided to take a stop at a cute little beachside restaurant. The view was beautiful, and it was jam packed since the area was quite a tourist hub. You were eating, when Isaac let out a long laugh.

“Babe, that’s my old 5th-grade teacher!” You heard Isaac say as he nodded toward an older man who was making his way over to you two. 

“Isaac Lahey, well if it isn’t you! You still look just like the young troublesome lad from all those years ago. How are you son?”

Isaac laughed and grinned excitedly, introducing you before explaining how you two were only visiting for your wedding.

“Say, why don’t I take some good cuisine I’ve learned from my time here in Mexico for your wedding. Where is it at?” He asked before chucking and resting his hands on his hips.

“We actually don’t know, we haven’t been able to find an affordable and quick venue. It might just be in the middle of the desert.” Isaac said with a chuckle. You were quiet, letting them reconnect and enjoy each other.

“Well consider that a non-issue. I’ll rent out this place to you guys in exchange for an ability to cater the wedding.

“Oh, sir…you own this place? You are way too generous. Thank you!” You said before letting a small tear roll down your cheek from all the excitement.

“Mister.Kendrick, I will forever be grateful. I don’t know how to repay you. This is a dream come true, because your restaurant is more that my fiance and I have ever dreamt of!” 

The old man just laughed and patted Isaacs back, before giving you a cheeky smile.

“A wedding is a gift. And one day, I just wish you will bring your children and remind them of that.” He said.

You have never been happier.

One more thank-you short fic, for @whowaswillbe, who requested “ yoga seb, I’d love to see it being before they get together – Chris being completely transfixed by this gorgeous creature (and who could blame him?)”. I don’t really know *that* much about yoga, but they are both (relative) beginners here in any case, so…have some first-meeting Evanstan fluff!

##

Chris should be good at yoga. In theory. Given his flexibility.

He wobbles. Trying to do something called mountain pose. He’s not a good mountain. Or whatever.

He’s done gymnastics and ballet and improv theater classes. He knows how to move. Or he’s always more or less thought so.

He’s aware that this is not enough.

He’s also aware that at least half his problem, if not more, involves the utterly beautiful man just in front and slightly to the right of him. The man has duckling-soft brown hair, infinite legs, and an ass that exists in a state of loveliness which cannot be defined by words.

Keep reading

La Belle et le Bete... the 2017 spin

I just saw Beauty and the Beast and…

Well…

How does a moment last forever?

The thing about Beauty and the Beast… I was too young to see it in the theatres, and my father bought me a laser disc copy to watch a year later. I fell in love with Belle, Belle’s dress (and that was why yellow was my favorite color as a child), and the whole magic of this story. Beauty and the Beast (1991) holds a very important piece of my childhood – this movie means a lot to me.

Keep reading

Writers Creed Interviews: @mikefrawley

For our fourth interview, we have had the privilege of getting to know Mike from Florida, USA. Please take a moment to find out all his great stories from work from when he started writing as well as what inspires him and much more. Thank you for participating, Mike! ❤

Writers Creed: Thank you for joining us! We’d like to start off with a brief introduction. Tell us your name and any nicknames and / or cool story involving them (if any) :)

Mike: First of all I cannot begin answering questions before thanking you for this completely unexpected honor and pleasure. As for nicknames, the number one perk of being named Mike is no matter how old I am or ever get, I shall always be a Mikey, and yes I do like that. Michael is actually my middle name, and I’ll spare you the gory details, but that is confusing. I have a much stranger nickname at work, Frank, as in Frank Frawley. For the past fourteen years I’ve worked for the same family owned business, and for reasons yet unknown, one of them has and will probably always call me Frank. It’s now a running joke, and everyone including me when I’m in a good mood finds this hilarious.

WC: Haha that is a great story Mike. We’ll make sure to stick to Mike and not Frank haha. So onto the real writing questions, what got you into writing?

M: I actually started writing at one of the lowest points in my life, and never had much if any desire to write prior to 1999. Fighting a losing battle with addiction, I had chased away love, most if not all of my friends, and totally destroyed a 21-year career. I wrote about 4 poems to pass the time and hopefully keep some of whatever was left of my sanity. Several years later I was able to share one, “Hush” with a severely depressed friend. She loved it and passed it around to everyone else, who also said they loved it, and I was hooked. Thankfully, she’s now an RN, a happily married mother of two, and I’m doing much better as well.

WC: Wow that is a great answer. It is incredible how people are able to turn tragedy into something positive
and in turn also inspire others through their writing

M: People are actually pretty amazing, and when I don’t have my head buried deeply up my behind, I realize, or remember that the true gift of writing is found in the hearts you touch.

WC: Well said, “the true gift of writing is found in the hearts you touch.” 😊 Love that. So what usually motivates you to write? What are the subjects you most touch upon?

M: The motivation like everything else has changed over time. After my first few poems, I started writing to share with my friends at work. Along with enjoying their positive feedback, I totally unexpectedly discovered that I actually loved to write. There are so many thoughts and feelings that I feel I can adequately express only via written words. In our words, we can be actors, saints, sinners, lovers, dreamers, and anything else we can imagine. In its own way, I’ve found writing to be a very liberating experience. Early on, the mostly spiritual books I was reading often inspired me, and of course music, always music. By far my favorite topic has always been love in its many hues, from romantic to tragic to altruistic. A few of my favorite themes are of course pirates, The Tin Man from The Wizard of Oz, God, self-love, and most definitely dreamers.

WC: Lovely answer, just spot on. You have a wonderful point here about how easily it is for us writers to take the role of any character we choose and really go with it. The power to be able to create is fascinating. How long have you been writing?

M: As I mentioned, I wrote about 4 poems in 1999, and for reason I saved them while going through some shall we say pretty interesting times. Several years later when I began sharing them with friends at work, I probably wrote one or two per week at most. You may find this moderately humorous, after a while I started sharing prose on Fridays, and having never heard of prose along with only knowing that a blog had something to do with the internet, I referred to them as Fake Blog Fridays. Since joining Tumblr in December of 2010, and counting whatever I wrote prior to that, I’m “guesstimating” that I’ve written somewhere around 4,000 poems and other types of creative writing.

WC: Haha that is amazing! You know, I think we (all writers on Tumblr who have been blessed with your work) can agree that it was the best thing you did to start writing when you did! ❤
Any strange, interesting, cool stories or experiences happen to you because of the fact that you write?

M: I can’t think of too much other than in my early days of writing at work. I had a readership of about 50 people, and I used to go around each morning whenever I had written a new poem passing them out on company paper, and time. My boss heard about it a few years later, and while shaking his head in disbelief, smiled and said, don’t do that anymore. Also, I’m not generally very comfortable meeting new people, and it certainly was an ice breaker. New employees would often come up to me and ask, “Hey aren’t that poet guy?” Minor though it was, I’m sure I enjoyed the notoriety as the only fish in a small pond.

WC: Cute :) Well now for the last question, tell us a fun fact about you :)

M: Why did they get tough at the end? LOL. For some reason you just reminded me of one of my father’s favorite stories that he loved to share even into old age. His passion was traveling, and as a Marine Corps Officer was allowed 30 days of vacation each year. In a little pale blue Tempest hauling a camper trailer we literally traveled around the country for 3 or 4 weeks once every year. I’ve been in 40 plus states as well as both Canada and Mexico. Yellowstone with its geysers and bears was one of my favorites. Anyway, back to his story. Apparently at least one of my school teachers had called the house expressing her concern over my apparent chronic lying, and when he inquired as to why, she replied, every time we have a geography class and discuss a new location, he says I’ve been there. My father smiled and answered, he has. I can only imagine her expression.

WC: No way! Haha that was epic!

M: I heard that story many times and smiled with each retelling. :)

WC: I can see why. It sure brightened my day.

M: This has been very enjoyable!

WC: Thanks! Well thank you so much for doing this and sharing your soul with us today!

10

Too many times the Spanish language is subjected to a barbaric butchering of its beautiful sound and its harmonious structure. Growing up in the United States I would often hear Spanish being spoken by non-Spanish speakers in a mocking, almost dismissive, way. Luckily, nowadays, there seems to be more of a push for truth. This is my contribution towards that truth.

HOW NOT TO SOUND LIKE A GRINGO WHEN SPEAKING SPANISH

1. NO PROBLEMO

No. Sandwiching an English noun between an el and a letter O, does not make it Spanish; nor is it ingenious anymore. Seen it. Heard it. Next.

2. MI CASA ES SU CASA

This one is sweet. It implies that Latino households are warm and hospitable. This is very true, however, Latinos don’t have to say this because it’s implied! The closest I’ve ever heard to this phrase is: Estás en tu casa. For example; if you ask to use the restroom at someone’s home, they might say: Claro, estás en tu casa. This means, “Of course, you’re in your own home.”

3. MUY CALIENTE!

You might say this if the soup burned your tongue, but never is it used to describe someone’s sex appeal. Spanish has a million and one ways of expressing attraction towards someone. Two of the most commonly used phrases are “¡Qué guapo/a!” and “¡Qué chulo/a!” 

4. RAPIDO, RAPIDO! ANDALE, ANDALE! ARRIBA, ARRIBA!

<Sigh> I won’t mention that cartoon mouse as it’s way before the average Tumblr user’s time. However, I have noticed that The Amazing Race contestants love to yell “rapido, rapido!” at taxi drivers from Spanish-speaking countries. I understand where they’re coming from, and I don’t blame them, but this is plain rude. Say this instead: ¿Puede ir un poco más deprisa, por favor?

5. NO COJONES

If you want to tell someone they have no balls, tell them in English! Don’t veil your contempt for someone by misusing the Spanish language. A common way of saying this accurately is: No tienes agallas. It’s strong without being vulgar.

6. COMPRENDE?!

The condescending use of “comprende” when a Spanish speaker does not understand something is the height of humiliation. Try getting some help. If you actually do speak Spanish, there’s another way of saying this: ¿Me hago entender?

7. HASTA LA VISTA

I’ve never heard any Spanish speakers ever say this. Along with adiós, “hasta la vista” is seriously misused and abused. Read my previous post on other ways of saying adiós by clicking <HERE>. 

8. AMIGO

Yes, Spanish-speaking people are friendly, but that does not make them your amigo. Wait for them to call you “mi parce” or “mi compa” before you reciprocate. True amigos don’t call each other amigo.

9. NO BUENO

This popular phrase is incorrect on so many levels. At best, it sounds like a phrase that a Spanish-speaker might put together during early infancy. To learn the different ways to express that something is not good click <HERE>.

anonymous asked:

Where are all the snarky!draco ficks at?.. I need some sarcasm and bickering ... but lately I find only ficks with too much fluff ... and sappy draco or worse draco who's not draco at all... wth :( help

Snarky!Draco fics are the best!!! What is Draco without his biting wit, right? We are very fortunate in Drarry fandom to have many writers who have great takes on Draco and all his brilliant sarcasm. These are just some of my favorites. 

Chaos Theory by @tessacrowley (103K) - Chaos: when the present determines the future, but the approximate present does not approximately determine the future. One gene varies, one neuron fires, one butterfly flaps its wings, and Draco Malfoy’s life is completely different. Draco has always found a certain comfort in chaos. Perhaps he shouldn’t. Featuring Genius!Draco.

This is an absolutely brilliant story – one of the first Drarry fics I read, and it remains a favorite.  It is an AU canon retelling in which Draco is sorted into Ravenclaw and proceeds to run circles around his fellow students and professors. Draco’s interactions with Snape are particularly amusing as the two unleash their sarcasm at each other. It’s also a gorgeous slow-burn love story. Heed the warnings, as the plot goes very dark.

Azoth by @lol-zeitgeistic (88K) – Now that Harry is back at Hogwarts with Hermione for eighth year, he realises that something’s missing from his life, and it either has to do with Ron, his boggart, Snape, or Malfoy. Furthermore, what, exactly, does it mean when one’s life is defined by the desire to simultaneously impress and annoy a portrait? Harry has no idea; he’s too busy trying not to be in love with Malfoy to care.

This is an 8th Year fic and another one of my favorites. The plotting and writing are superb. Post-war Harry returns to Hogwarts to take his NEWTs, but Ron opts to join the aurors, leaving Harry somewhat at loose ends in regard to having a best male friend. Enter Draco, who becomes Harry’s tutor for potions. Harry, Draco, Hermione, and assorted other familiar characters end up participating in the Hogwarts Apprenticeship Program, with Harry apprenticing under portrait!Snape. I can’t even begin to describe the wonder that is zeitgeistic’s Snape: It has to be experienced. Harry ends up falling for Draco, who retreats to his customary sarcasm to remain emotionally distant.

All the Sense in the World by @l0vegl0wsinthedark  (10K) - He had absolutely no idea what was about to happen. Maybe Malfoy would kick him in the face. Maybe he’d scream loud enough that the whole school would rush in and see him lying there between Malfoy’s legs with his cock rock hard. Maybe he’d hex Harry’s rock hard cock off. Hell, maybe Harry’d wake in his own bed in a few minutes with a rock hard cock and would never again be able to look at Malfoy without sprouting an instant hard-on.Or maybe he and Malfoy would have sex.

By the author’s own admission, this fic is barely more than PWP (very compelling porn, I might add.). The boys find themselves in the Hogwarts infirmary, and their beds just happen to be next to each other. Draco is grumpy from a potions accident, so initially he is not receptive to Harry’s overtures. As you can imagine, this state of affairs doesn’t last long.

Hey, Potter by SunseticMonster (16k) -  Harry returns to Hogwarts for his 8th year, determined not to let Malfoy get to him. But when the snarky teasing starts up again, Harry finds that returning the jibes with compliments has a far more interesting outcome. 

A charming take on the enemies-to-lovers trope. Draco’s snark in this fic hews close to the tone that Rowling established in the original books. Think  sophomoric insults that can only warrant a good eye-roll. Naturally, insults give way to Something More. This is also a story about healing in the post-war era, with a bittersweet subplot about letting go. 

And for some Post-Hogwarts recs:

After Hours at the Ministry of Magic by birdsofshore (11K) - It isn’t precisely how Harry planned to spend Christmas Eve: trapped in a lift with his ex-boyfriend, somewhere between the third and the fourth floors of the Ministry of Magic.

The summary tells you pretty much all you need to know about this story, which is a variation on the forced proximity trope.  As you can imagine, Draco and Harry are not as over each other as they might seem. The air in the elevator grows increasingly hot and stuffy, so of course they have to remove clothing to moderate their body temperatures. And then they ruin it all with some smokin’ hot sex.

I’ll Be Good For You by Burning_Up_A_Sun  (7K) - Harry swears his naked calendar will outsell Draco’s naked calendar. They snark over their bad break up, and then, well, it is the Draco tops Harry fest…

Harry and Draco end up the subjects of two calendars produced to benefit needy crups and kneazles. The situation is tense, as they had broken up a month prior. A little competition has always fired up the two, though, and it’s all for charity, right? Features the use of TWIZARD to track the sales figures in real time, #NakedPotter vs. #NakedMalfoy.

Sweatin’ to the Voldies by commas_and_ampersands (dark_branwen(24.2K) -  The-Boy-Who-Lived has become The-Boy-Who-Ate, and his girlfriend just can’t take it anymore. After Ginny leaves Harry for presumably slimmer pastures, Harry realizes that if he has any chance of getting her back, he’s going to have to get fit quick. It’s really just his bad luck that a certain pale, pointy bastard owns the only wizarding gym in the country.

Ok, titles are hard. I totally get that. However, I’m shallow, and I wasn’t in a hurry to read this story until I read another review that claimed the title wasn’t representative of the work overall. This is both true and not true. The humor in the title is actually a taste of one of the most fun stories I’ve read in a long time. Draco is just so mean to Harry in this fic. I’ve never been so delighted to be proven wrong about judging a book by its (kinda) cover. Bonus: Great supporting characters in Luna and Goyle (in spandex!).

What You Do With Your Life, A.H.K.B.C.B. (After the Hero Kills the Batshit Crazy Bastard) by oldenuf2nb  (40K) - Draco Malfoy had waited years in hope of seeing Harry Potter utterly humiliated….

Oblivious!Draco and pining!Harry. Also one of the most erotic descriptions of body shots I’ve ever read. In short, amazing UST ending in, well, resolved ST. Very resolved.

And a bonus:

Auror Peacock Extraordinaire by dustmouth -  As part of a new departmental initiative, Harry finds himself with a partner he never asked for… and Draco Malfoy.

This comic is pure genius. Draco is hired to train Harry in how to work with his new peacock crime-fighting partner. It goes about as well as could be expected. Do enjoy…Draco.

When You Come Home  (Part 1 of 3)

Pairing: Lin-Manuel x Reader

Summary: lmao good fucking luck pals.

Warnings: #pain ahead. 

Word Count: 7,826 (totally not sorry, dudes.)

A/N: Alright, friends. We had crazy fun writing this so we hope you like this disaster as much as we do. Please feel free to yell at us because honestly, that’s all we’ve been doing behind the scenes. In fact, we’re yelling about it right now. Thank you so much for your support. There’s a shit ton more left to this, so stay tuned!! Without further ado, Team GTNW presents part ONE of THREE. Enjoy the ride, pals. We sure as hell did.

- Team GTNW -  


The concept of home is nothing if not indefinable.

We jump from place to place and house to house and person to person in a single lifetime—and maybe all of them are home in some way, but more likely than not you find one or two places to call home, a couple of houses, and if you’re lucky, a person.

The concept of home may have always been indefinable to you, but you most certainly knew what it felt like.

You felt it that day, walking down the street of your childhood neighborhood and breathing in the New York air. You felt it when you walked into your old favorite record shop for the first time in eight years, eyes brightening at the messy shelves and dim lighting that had managed to stay exactly the same. The sign was off kilter and the bell on the door was barely hanging on but the air in the place was the same.

Keep reading

Study Buddy's - pt 2 - Philip Hamilton x reader

Warnings - swears most likely

Requested by - Me I really wanted to write this

Requests are - Always open and I really need some so :)

Damn this is long whoops sorry :)


“You had 2 weeks Y/N.” your best friend Theo yelled though the phone

“I know! You don’t have to remind me Theo!” You whisper yelled and put a ugly dress back in the rack

You were shopping for a prom dress you hadn’t picked one yet and prom was tomorrow

You had been busy.. Okay that’s a lie you had been getting to know Philip an kinda just forgot.

“Yeah I do!” She yelled again. Mad.

“It’s just a dress Theo. a dress!” You exclaimed as grabbed a black dress.

“OoOoO.” You said when you looked at the dress you had grabbed from the rack

Its was a long black dress with lace it was in your size to. How lucky.

“What?” Theo asked confused and yo had heard her grab her keys through the phone.

“I found a dress.” You said happy and started waking towards the change room

“I’m on my way.” She exclaimed and with that hung up you locked the door to the change room and put your phone on the chair that was in the small room

As you slide out of your pants you heard your phone buzz you finished taking your pants off and then grabbed your phone to see a text from Philip

Philly<3: Hey, I’ll be picking you up around 7:30 tomorrow. can’t wait to see you beautiful!!

You blushed and the nickname and pit your phone down and slide your shirt off and carefully slide the dress on

It was perfect!

It fit perfect and looked amazing on your body shape

You must have been starring at yourself or awhile cause you suddenly heard

“Y/N! Which room are you in?”

“Room 5 Theo!”

You in locked the door and she walked in as locked it again then turned around to look at you and gasped

“It’s beautiful!” She screamed and hugged you

“Thanks Theo.” you breathed out

“I think ok going to buy it.” You said looking at yourself once more 

“Duh, i wouldn’t let you leave without it.” she exclaimed with that duh tone you hate.

as you slipped off the dress and slide you pants back on you heard you phone buzz and Theo grab your phone

“Oh you got a text from lover boy.” 

“Theo give me my phone.” you said and put your shirt on.

“Hey Love, Do you wanna come over for dinner tonight?” she read and tried to make a Philip voice

“That was terrible! you’ve never met Philip!” you said taking your phone from her hands 

You: Sure Philly!! ill be there in 10 mins! you replied and closed your phone and stuck in your pocket if you were wondering what you were wearing 

its a black crop top, tight jeans and you black Tennis shoes.

“Ok thanks for the help but i have a dinner to got to.” you said and grabbed your dress, your purse, and your black beanie.

“Alright go see lover boy, see you tomorrow.”

“Bye Theo.”

“Bye soon to be Mrs. Hamilton!” she yelled.. i mean like screamed.

“Shut up.”

“Never.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

“Hey Love.” Philip exclaimed as he answered the door. you blushed and hid you face by looking down

“Hey, hey, hey, never hide your face.” he said as he cupped your face and gently made you look up

You blushed even more and tried to look down again

“What did i just say.” he laughed and kissed your forehead 

You laughed and grabbed his hands from off your face and then dropped them and wrapped your arms around his neck and his arms found their why to your waist

you guys both were leaning in when

“Philip, Mom said din- oh my god sorry.” you heard a young voice squeal and footsteps running away

“Damn it Angelica” Philip muttered and grabbed your hand and pulled yo through his house to his dinning room

you laughed and stopped him form walking.

“Y/N what we have din-”

You cut him off with your lips on his was about a 3 second kiss when you broke apart he laughed and spoke up “Okay you can stop me for that anytime.”

“Ill hold you to that.” you said and grabbed his face and started tracing circles on his cheek

“Ill count on it.” 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

“So Y/N, Have you gotten a dress yet?” Mrs. Hamilton asked.

“Yes i have Mrs. Hamilton.” you said and looked down.

“How many times have i told you to call me Eliza?” she asked and ate her food

“A lot..” 

“Then please do. your part of this family to.” 

this made Mr. Hamilton laugh

“Whats so funny Alexander?” his wife asked you didn’t realize he was there

“You said she’s ‘Family’ she’s not.”

“Alexander!” Eliza yelled

“She just using him for money!” he Exclaimed

That hurt… 

“Pardon me?” you asked

“Your using him, your family’s poor and you want money.”

“Pa stop.” Phil said

“Its the truth Philip.”

“Its not! Yes my family’s poor! but no i am not using your son for money! until i started dating him i didn’t know you had money! so if you could stop accusing me of stuff Mr. Hamilton That would be great!” You said loudly. not yelling, but you said it loudly.

“Philip ill see you tomorrow. Mrs.- Eliza thank you for dinner sorry i cant stay.” You said and pecked Philips cheek and walked out of that house

~*~*~*~*~*~Philips Pov~*~*~*~*~*~*~

“Philip ill see you tomorrow. Mrs.- Eliza thank you for dinner sorry i cant stay.” she said and Pecked my cheek and walked out of the house

“Damn it Pa.” i yelled and ran after her.

“Y/N.” she kept walking.

“Y/N.” 

“Y/N Y/M/N Y/L/N.”

“What Philip?” she ask still not facing me

“Can you look at me please.” i asked quietly 

“We haven’t been dating long enough for you to see me cry.” she said crying

“Ive seen you cry before.” i told her

“Yeah before we were dating.” she stated 

“Y/N.” i sighed “look i’m sorry about what my dad said he doesn’t know what he’s talking about.” i stated she looked away

“its not true right.” i asked tho i really hope its not

“Of course not!” she yelled and turned to face me

“Y/N i love you! i Love you so much. even if i was banned from seeing you i wouldn’t stop!” i yelled getting closer to her

“I love you too Phil! i just-” i cut her off with my lips 

“See you tomorrow?” i asked

“7:30.” she stated 

we kissed again

~*~*~*~*~*~*~Elizas pov~*~*~*~*~*~*~

“Damn it pa.” My son yelled and stormed after his lover 

“Philip.” i stated and stood up.

“Alexander Hamilton! That was unacceptable! She’s a lovely young Lady. What the Hell is wrong with you.” i heard many gasps i cover my mouth i had never used strong language in front of my kids.

“She using him i will not let my son be seduced by a whore!” i gasped at his words.

“You know you didn’t have any money and my dad let you marry me!”

he stayed silent

“Now apologize to your son!” i said point towards the door.

“Fine.” he stated and got up and i followed him

we walked out side and heard yelling

“its not true right.” i heard Philip say

“Of course not!” she yelled

“Y/N i love you! i Love you so much. even if i was banned from seeing you i wouldn’t stop!” He yelled getting closer to her

“I love you too Phil! i just-” he cut her off with his lips

“See you tomorrow?” he asked

“7:30.” she stated

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~Your pov~*~*~*~*~*~*~

“You look wonderful Darling.” Eliza gasped as you walked out she wanted you to get ready with her. 

“Thank you Eliza. i don’t think i could look this pretty if you didn’t help me.”

“Your mother wouldn’t help?”

You stayed silent  

“Are you okay hun.”

“uh my mom was murdered.. by my dad when i was 4.” 

she gasped and hugged you 

“Im sorry hun.”

“Its okay it was along time ago.”

“Mom philips ready!!”

“Alright!”

“Come on hun.”

Philip was down the stairs waiting for you

you walked down and his mouth fell open 

“wow, you look… Wow.” was all he said but he held out his hand so you could grab it and you did

After Eliza toke pictures you guys were on your way

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

“Everyone thanks for coming to Senior Prom!!” the lady on stage Yelled 

“Its almost time for it to end sadly but we still have to announce Prom king and Queen.”  she said and everyone clapped

“Prom King is.” she Yelled as she open a piece of paper 

“Philip Hamilton.” she Yelled and i clapped and looked at Philip he looked shocked you pushed him and he walked and they put a crown on his head.

“Uh thanks?” he said

everyone laughed

“And the Queen is…” “Y/N Y/L/N.” 

You walked on stage and they put a tiara on your head 

“Uh thanks.” you mocked Phil

everyone laughed

“Time for the last dance.”  she yelled

You and Philip walked to the dance floor

You slid your arms around his neck and he slid his around your waist and he whispered in your ear

“To think… This wouldn’t have happened if weren’t Study buddy’s.”

“Yeah Study Buddys.”  

Alright, here it is...

…the first chapter of what I am tentatively calling Dueling Hearts.

There is a bit of episodic…ness(?) to this, but it is supposed to be taken in all at once overall, so details will be revealed over time. And nothing much happens in this chapter. And I should really post another one pretty much immediately. But I won’t.

Anyway, here’s…

Chapter One

Joanna Sieger

Keep reading

Proper Betta Fish Care: A Masterpost

Hi!!! I’ve noticed that a lot of people who aren’t taking proper care of their betta fish are genuinely misinformed about what is the proper care of their pets. So I’m going to make a huge post that has a good summary of why bowls are bad, what the proper care parameters for a betta fish are, and some popular myths debunked! 

I’ll also be putting it under a readmore. (It will be bulleted with important parts bolded/underlined and with summaries at the bottom of each section for those who can not read long chunks of text, like me!)

Keep reading

Scarlet Rose (Part Three)

TITLE: Scarlet Rose
WORD COUNT: 3678
PAIRING: Gaston x OC
WARNINGS: None
At the break of dawn, the small town of Villianueve was quiet and peaceful. The streets were deserted as if it was frozen in time. Early morning I left the house, eager to explore this charming little village. Everything was so peaceful… that was, until it the clock struck twelve.
“Bonjour!”
“Bonjour!”
“Bonjour!”
“Bonjour!”
“Bonjour!”
Almost simultaneously, the villagers burst open their windows and echoed their calls as life started to bustle through Villianueve. They started to open up their shops and start their lives. The streets were filled almost instantly.
The sight of all these people with something constant in their lives made me smile. It was so cheerful here.
Suddenly, Belle walked over from behind me and hooked her arm with mine. I smiled, greatful for her company.
“First day in Villianueve. How’s it so far?” Belle asked me cheerfully
“Does everyone here sing?” I asked, smiling
She laughed “Yes, and sooner or later, we’ll find a voice in you somewhere.”
“Oh, I highly doubt that.” I told her
“I’m going to stop by Piere Robert’s to borrow a new book. He usually has new stories for me by now.” She told me
“Could you maybe give him this one back with my thanks?” I asked, taking out a copy of Shakespeare’s Midsummer Night’s Dream. The same one Belle had leant to me yesterday before we had dinner at her house. It was an amazing story. I finished it before I feel asleep.
Belle looked at me with disbelief “You’ve finished it already?”
I nodded “Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind, and therefore is winged Cupid painted blind” I recited a line
A smile played on her face as she too recited her own line “The course of true love never did run smooth” She took the book
“It was a good story. Twists and turns with every page. The ending was a bit sappy, but I loved it all the same.” I told her
“How about giving this one a try?” She offered, holding out a leather book
I took it and read the cover “Romeo and Juliet?”
“Its wonderfully tragic!” She said enthusiastically with a bright smile
“Its romance.” I said “I’d rather have adventure.”
“There’s adventure in this one as well as many other things. You’ll love it, I promise.” She told me
I looked at the book. Needless to say, it was tempting. Never could I say no to new book.
“Alright, fine.” I said and she grinned, handing the book to me.
“I’ll see you back at the house then?” Belle said and with that, she was on her way.
My footsteps took me to the village center, where eyes seemed to follow me everywhere I went. My clothes were borrowed from Belle, who greatfully lent me a spare dress of hers. It was simple, a white dress with a dark blue (almost black) apron draped over it. Simple, not eye catching at all. And yet I could still feel people’s eyes burning the back of my head as their voices rang through my ears.
“Who is that girl, the one that acts so strangely?”
“She’s not from here, that you can tell.”
“Every morning not the same, since the morning that she came.”
“To this poor, provincial town.”
I suddenly stopped and turned to look at whoever had spoken. Everyone just quickly looked away and went on with their lives as if they had been doing so the entire time.
“Curiouser and curiouser.” I said to myself

“Good Night, Good night! Parting is such sweet sorrow, that I shall say good night till it be morrow." I read the line off the page of the book quietly myself. Though I would never admit it to Belle, the romance had me attached on the first lines. True, I was never to type for romance novels, but this wasn’t purely just romance. It tested family ties, how far one was willing to go for what they wished to achieve, and even had fights worth morals. If only real life held all of that. It may sound cliche, but what I wouldn’t give to live in a storybook. Maybe not one as a damsel who’s only role is marry a prince.
My quiet reading only lasted a few more moments until a commotion in the square caught my attention. A pair on two horses had just rode into town. To say that they attracted attention was putting it lightly, especially when one of them wore an unbelievably bright red jacket. A small crowd had gathered around to see them, especially the three siblings (who looked like they had just fell into a cake factory with flour and icing covering their faces) who Belle had called the "Bimbettes”.
Whoever the pair was, they must’ve been the stars of the town- even if this town wasn’t very big. Especially the man in the jacket.
I, however, was not starstruck with the two like the entire town was. With a huff, I went back to the book sitting on top of my lap and emersed myself with the tale.
“Tempt not a desperate man… Not stepping o'er the bounds of modesty…”
That was, until I was interrupted yet again
“Who is that girl, Le Fou?” A deep voice said
I sighed, but kept my eyes glued to my book in the hope that they weren’t talking about me. As tempted as I was to glance up, my goal was to sit and pretend I wasn’t here. Sadly, that was a dream that could never come true.
“Oh, thats the new girl who came in just today.” A lighter voice- Le Fou maybe- told the other man “Maurice found her on the roads when her horse threw her over and brought her here.”
Was that really the story going on around here? Arion did not THROW ME OFF! We slipped on the road. Honestly, the gossip was worse than I thought. I hate being the center of attention- absolutely loath it.
“How could that old fool find something so beautiful?” The deeper voice said
At those words, my grip on the book tightened. How could he call Maurice a fool? That man was brilliant! By far the smartest man I’ve met in the village- even in my whole life. Despite my anger towards the statement, my cheeks heated up at being called beautiful. No one has ever said that… and I certainly never thought of myself that way.
“Nobody in town knows much about her, only that she’s from Paris.” Le Fou said
“No family?”
“None. But she’s staying with Belle and Maurice.”
“Perfect!” The deep voice said
That was… certainly a strange thing to say. At that point, I found myself paying more attention to the conversation than to Shakespeare’s tale.
“Um… I don’t think that would be wise.” Le Fou said
“What wouldn’t be wise?” The deep voice sounded confused as he asked
“I’ve seen that look in your eyes.” Le Fou said “You’re going to go talk to the girl.”
“Yes, I am. And that’s bad why?”
“Um… well…” Le Fou cleared his throat “She’s so… well read. And you’re so… athletically inclined.”
“Nonesense! When have I ever let that stop me?”
I heard Le Fou sigh “Thats true…”
The man's… well, “persistent” behavior made me stiffle a small laugh. Suddenly, I heard the sound of footsteps coming my way. Heavy, slightly squeaking, footsteps in the mud coming my way and I tensed.
“Bonjour!” The same deep voice said, only closer.
I looked up from my book hesitantly and was almost blinded by the same bright red jacket I had seen earlier. Standing there was the same man I had seen on the horse alongside Le Fou, who was now watching curiously and not very discreetly from his place by the horses. The man was handsome, no doubt, but I never payed attention to looks very much.
“Bonjour, monsieur.” I said, looking up at him and closing the book on my lap, placing it aside “Can I help you?”
“I’m very sure you could, madame.” The man said, which made me frown slightly “ but, for now, I would like you to have these.”
A large bouquet of flowers were suddenly pushed into view as he brought them upfront. My eyes widened at the gesture and the man only flashed what the Bimbettes would call a charming smile. I’m sure they would’ve been swooning at the gesture, but for now they were just sending me not so discrete glared from the distance.
I glanced around to see a nearby shopkeeper in a flower store who looked almost harassed as he fixed around the shop, trying to fill in the hole where a bouquet once sat with other flowers. In his hands were a few gold coins. My guess was a certain someone had a surprise rushed order.
“Um, thank you, monsieur…” I said, a small frown of bewilderment on my face as I took them and set them ontop of my book aside “And its mademoiselle, not madame. I am not married.”
“Apologies.” The man said, although he still had that smirk on his face. “So you must be the girl I’ve heard so much about.”
“From your little friend over there?” I asked, eyebrow raised as I glanced past him and looked at Le Fou.
He seemed a bit startled that I had noticed him, but he gave a small smile and waved both hesitantly and awkwardly.
“Yes… that’s Le Fou. My most loyal friend.” The man said, glancing back at Le Fou before turning back to me with his trademark smirk back on
“So you’ve heard about me?” I asked him, arms crossed with a small frown. He didn’t seem to notice.
“Yes, I have! Its a small town and word gets around.” He said “Although no words could’ve prepared me for the beauty I see now.”
My cheeks heated more, but I tried to hide the fact that I was as red as my hair.
“Really? Then I’m guessing you know my name then?”
“Of course-” His smile wavered “Um… Of course I do… it’s…”
At that, I gave a small smile “Let’s start again, shall we?” I stood up, straightening my skirt, and looked up at him. He frowned at me, confused at the gesture.
“Bonjour.” I said, giving him a small smile “My name is Scarlett Le Fey. And you are?”
The man stared at me for a moment. He was probably used to girls not talking this much. They probably got weak in the knees with his smile, just squeal and agree with everything that comes out of his mouth, and just ooh and awe at everything.
No, sir. Not me.
“Gaston.” The man finally said, his smirk returning once more “My name is Gaston, mademoiselle.”
I smiled “Very nice to meet you, monsieur Gaston.” With that, I grabbed my book and the bouquet of flowers (what on earth am I going to do with those?) and started to leave. To my surprise, the man called Gaston followed me.
“Where are you headed?” He asked me curiously, jogging to fall into rhythm as me. The next thing I knew, we were walking side by side. It didn’t help my wish of people to stop looking at me.
“Back to the house.” I replied vaguely. I looked at him “Do you always wear that jacket?”
He frowned at me “Why?”
“It’s oh so… Distracting.” I said, waving a hand
He smirked “Oh? Distracting you from what, exactly?”
I blushed and I didn’t like it. Why was everything he said so… So flirtatious?
Fine, I thought. I’ll humor him just this once. But only this once.
“Distracting me from everything. It’s so bright it could’ve been mistaken for the sun.” I spoke simply
Gaston stayed silent for a moment before his deep laugh startled me. It was so loud and startling I almost jumped. More people looked and I wished I could’ve hid behind the massive bundle of flowers in my hand.
“If you must know, this jacket of mine has a very special meaning to me.” Gaston said. For a moment, his voice was softer. No longer boastful, nor narcissistic, nor full of hinself. His look almost wistful as if remembering something very special to him. He was almost- I dare say it- normal
“It reminds me of the times I felt most… Well, the time I actually felt something more.”
“Really?” I asked curiously as I looked at him “When was that?”
He looked at me “The war.”
I couldn’t help but be impressed. War isn’t something many people come back from. Neither was it an experience that many people return sane.
"You fought in the war?”
His smirk returned when he saw my eyes widen. I cleared my throat and looked away, wiping the look off my face.
And he was back
“Yes, I did. In fact, I was a captain.” Gaston said, puffing his chest out proudly
We reached the farmhouse surprisingly quickly- quicker than I imagined. Thankfully, neither Belle nor Maurice were there to see me walking in with the “town hero”.
“Well, this is where we part ways… sadly.” I spoke, standing on the first step towards the door and turning to face Gaston, who was almost my eye level from my boosted height. The last word came out laced with sarcasm he probably didn’t recognize.
“Of course.” Gaston said
I had only just started on the third step when he said: “Perhaps we can talk more over dinner?”
I stopped in my tracks. Puzzled, I turned back to face him “What?”
“Dinner.” Gaston repeated, a smug smirk on his lips yet again “It would be such a waste if we cannot finish this conversation of ours. Besides, it will give us more time to talk about the war and-”
“Yourself?” I asked, raising an eyebrow at him
He smirked, looking up at me and taking a step up on the first stair “Well, if you’d like to I certainly won’t object.”
“Tempting.” I said sarcastically “But I’m afraid I’ll have to take decline.”
Again, I turned towards the door and took another step. To my dismay, so did he.
“Why?” Gaston asked
“Other arrangements.” I lied
“Such as?”
I frowned at him, crossing my arms “Why does it matter to you so much?”
He raised an eyebrow at me “Why?” Something in his look wavered “Do you have a boyfriend? A cute boyfriend?”
I snickered, shaking my head “For your information, no. I do not, monsieur.”
“Then why?”
It was both annoying and adorable in a way how he kept asking questions. He was like a puppy… a very large puppy.
“Goodbye, monsieur.” I said, my hand reaching for the doorknob behind me
“You know I find stubbornness attractive.” He said, a matter of factly
I sighed “Look, Gaston… You’ve only just met me. I’m sure many of the other girls in this town would absolutely love to marry you-”
“Of course they would.” He interrupted “But they’re not you.”
“Charming.” I said sarcastically, crossing my arms across my chest “But I’m not that easy to win over.”
Finally, I managed to twist the knob and only managed to get it slightly ajar before a deep voice interrupted yet again
“You’re something else, aren’t you?” Gaston told me
I shrugged, although a grin spread on my face “I’m not one of those powder faced girls, if that’s what you’re thinking.“
"I always enjoy a challenge.”

Later that day, I was in the kitchen helping Belle with dinner. It was a simple meal with whatever we had bought from the market. Fish, fruits, and bread. Not much, but it would taste as good as a dish for kings.
“There’s a lot of talk going around the town today.” Belle said as she washed the dishes clean for serving “You’re becoming quite famous.”
“I don’t want to be.” I admitted as I got out the silverware “Gossip isn’t as glamorous if you hear the words they say.”
“Welcome to my world.” She muttered with a small chuckle, shaking her head. Then, she suddenly asked “What of you and the brute?”
I stopped, my hands inches from grabbing the spoon “What?”
“Gaston.” Belle clarified, her voice was blank “People talk. They say he walked you home?”
“More like followed me like a lost puppy.” I said with a small roll of my eyes, although my cheeks heated up against my will
“You’ll get used to it. It gets annoying.” Belle said with a roll of her eyes. She grinned at me “Now its your turn.”
“Oh, shut it.” I told her, using my elbow to nudge her playfully. She only just laughed and I soon joined her.
“Look there he goes, isn’t he queasy?” Belle sung jokingly
I laughed and sung my own paraphrased verse “Monsieur Gaston.” I immitated the Bimbettes “He’s such a brute!”
Belle and I were laughing uncontrollably and clutching our sides by then. Maurice then walked inside, his glasses on as usual.
“Now, now, girls.” He chided, although he too was smiling
“Sorry, Maurice.” I said, grinning sheepishly as I went back to slicing the bread
“Sorry, papa.” Belle said with the same smile on her face
Maurice just chuckled, not very discretely taking one of the grapes from the plate and popping it in his mouth.
“Papa!” Belle protested jokingly, moving the plate away from him “At that pace we won’t have any left for the table!”
I smiled, watching the two of them. Father and daughter. I don’t remember much of my father… but I don’t think we had a very good relationship.
“It smells wonderful.” Maurice said, looking at the cooking pot
“Thank you. I must admit, I’ve never cooked before. Belle did the most.” I said, walking over to stir the soup. It did smell amazing. Nothing fancy, just plain soup. Even with that I was contented. Others didn’t even have bread to put on their own plates. For that I should be greatful.
“Madame Hansel may be hiring in that little shop of hers.” I spoke after a few moments of silence “Nothing big, and it doesn’t pay much, but it’s a job. Just an errand girl around the town to do jobs for her.”
Both Maurice and Belle looked at me
“A job? Aren’t you too young? You’re about Belle’s age.” Maurice said
“Yes, but how else do I earn a living without a job? The cruel truth of the world: you need money. Even in a small town like this.” I said “Besides, I have no father to provide for me like you do- and I can’t expect you to do the same for me.”
He opened his mouth to speak again but Belle spoke first.
“So you’re staying then?” She asked
I nodded “If you don’t mind me staying a while longer. That is, until I have enough money to buy a place of my own-”
“Of course not!” Maurice said with a smile “You’re no bother at all. We quite enjoy your company. But are you sure about settling in here? A small, poor, provincial town?”
“The change of scenery might do me some good.” I said with a small smile
“Villianueve could do more with a mindset like yours.” Maurice said
“Troublesome, sarcastic, and stubborn?” I asked, jokingly with a grin
“I was thinking adventurous, indipendent, and determined.” He said
I chuckled “I’m not all those things.”
“You should put some of that hope you have in people in yourself.” Belle told me as she set the plates with food.
“Maybe…” I said quietly. She was right. Self doubt never did anyone any good…
The fish was cooked moments later. Belle was taking her and Maurice’s plate, walking towards the dining room. I had my plate in my hand before something outside caught my attention. A small light, coming from a handheld lantern. There was even the faintest sound of a bell being rung.
Curiously, I took my plate and walked towards the sound outside the house. Standing there was a woman in plain clothes and a matching hooded cloak. There was a bucket sitting at her feet, one that had only several coins siting inside. Her gaze was at the floor, not bothering to lift it. But when the door creaked as I opened it, she looked up with golden brown eyes. Her face gave a sort of dreamy look, but she looked almost startled and shocked when she saw me.
“Bonjour.” I said with a small smile
“Bonjour.” The woman said with a small nod “You must be new in town, because I have not seen you before.”
“Scarlett, Le Fey.” I introduced “I’m from Paris.”
“Agatha. Pleasure to meet you.” The woman said
“Are you hungry?” I asked, walking over with my plate
Agatha’s eyes widened ever so slightly “I couldn’t-”
“Please. Take it.” I said, holding out the loaf of bread off from my plate.
Her eyes flickered from the bread to my face back and forth. Why was she acting so unnerved around me? Whatever the case, I didn’t care.
“The others in this town will call you strange for talking with a beggar.” Agatha spoke
I gave a smile “They already think me weird as it is. A small act of kindness won’t change it.”
With that, Agatha took the bread from me and her mouth twisted into a small smile
“Thank you, Madamoiselle.” Agatha said, sounding genuinely greatful as she took the bread
“Have I met you before?” I asked, even though I felt like it was highly unlikely “The way you look at me-”
“Oh, no, madamoiselle.” Agatha said quickly “Just… not many people show kindess to people like me.”
“Apologies for asking.” I spoke “I don’t see why they would be.”
“People need a little more kindness in their lives. Even little actions can mean a lot to people who lack it, as cliche as it sounds.”