Raisin’ Hell (1/?)
A prompt fill request from the verra patient @angelicbeing, who asked for an “Emma/Merida friendship with CS and Merintosh”. And it spun out of control, into a college AU, with Emma as an international student at St. Andrews on a golf scholarship. I have no idea if the athletics program info is accurate, but eh…needed it that way for the story. (And yes, I snuck in a line from both ‘Hamilton’ and ‘Parks & Rec’). Title from the long-standing tradition of ‘Raisin Weekend’ at that school.
Almighty.” Merida backed away from the third-floor window, passing her hand
over her eyes. “Of all the….”
Emma looked up from the textbook she’d been furiously highlighting in for the past hour. “Now what? More half-naked revelers?” she asked, though she was sure what—or who, rather—the real problem was. The hooting and yelling had been going on for awhile now, but there was only one person Merida would bother bitching about if she caught wind of them.
“Not jest any ha’-naked types—tae verra bane of my existence.” Her hand fluttered towards the window. “I mean, I cannae even tell wha’—I mean, tae be so self-cennered tae think innocent uni lasses want tae see what ye’ve usually got tucked aways— “
Emma’s eyes rounded. “Oooh, I wanna see!” Ignoring Merida’s protests, she darted to the window to look down upon their fellow St. Andrews’ student (and notorious partier), Macintosh, just on the grass below with MacGuffin and Dingwall, his rugby buddies. Though the latter two were trussed up in animal onesies—a bunny and a bear— the most practical costumes for both the fall weather and drunken shenanigans, Macintosh hadn’t deigned to do the same. Emma didn’t know if there was a different term for it in Scotland, but back in the States, what he had on would have been known as a banana hammock. And other than a plaid scarf wound about his neck that matched the coloring on the thong, he wasn’t wearing a stitch of clothing. Painted blue rings marked the rest of his body, but still left nothing to the imagination. Emma smirked, and hollered down to him.
“Yoohoo, young laird!” She signaled him, waving both arms overhead in a wide arc.
Merida ducked down and crawled right next to the sill, giving Emma a hard pinch on the leg. “Jest what d’ye think yer doing? Dinnae encourage him!”
“Ow! I’m just being friendly—“
Macintosh looked up, a half-grin plastered on his face, obviously already on his way to being facedown by the end of the evening. “Aye, if it isna fair Emma. Are ye and yer flame-haired, demoness flatmate plannin’ on joinin’ the festivities perchance?”