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#but yeah many other great bits. ''i'm a keeper'' ... loved that one
aclowntiny · 5 months
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Hiiii!!! First I wanna say how much I really like your work! Also, I stumbled upon our Seventeen and Enhypen as Hogwarts students, but saw you didn’t have it for Stray Kids 😭 I know they’ve mentioned in 2019 what house they think they are, but you seem to have a much better understanding of the houses and I’m very curious to see what you would think their houses would be.
I was wondering if I could request a similar sort of headcannon for them 🥹 Thank you!
Heck yeah! Can't believe I didn't do this sooner tbh but I love this so here we are 😌 I agree, not necessarily that I'm the best at the job, lol, but that people just go for very generic ideas of the houses (Gryffindor is cool, Slytherin is evil, Hufflepuff is nice/silly, Ravenclaw is smart) rather than the true reflection of where they'd be hehe! Like Ravenclaw is actually also known for being artistic and eccentric, Slytherin for strong determination, Hufflepuff for acceptance and breaking tradition, Gryffindor for being the other self-sacrificing house. So sometimes people just say "I'm a Gryffindor because I'm a good guy!!!" anyway rant over here's the actual content we want🤣
🏰 Stray Kids as Hogwarts Students🔮
Bang Chan
☆ Some kids got sorted instantly, but with one Christopher Bang the Hat took longer. Muttered to itself a lot as it waffled between his qualities, dubbing him hardworking and courageous and ambitious and loving. He couldn't help but flush under the hat's words, almost not hearing when its voice finally bellowed "Gryffindor!”
☆ Being Pure-Blood was only ever a phrase on a family tree for Chris. Who one’s ancestors were, what they looked like, or how much money they had said nothing for their value- only their choices and character did that.
☆ It’s only a formal class for one year, but he adores Flying. The feeling of freedom and getting to have some time outside is heaven for him. Defense Against the Dark Arts is another favorite for the similar reason of being able to get active and challenge himself, even literally facing his fears.
☆ Astronomy is very cool to him, but he finds having to fill in the same charts week after week a bit repetitive and not the best use of his time, frankly.
☆ Gryffindor’s Quidditch captain! He plays Keeper, working with great patience and synergy with the rest of the team to keep the goals clear.
☆ Blessed is the only word Chris can think of when he realizes how many happy memories he can pull from- not everyone can say that. As the word comes to mind, his wand lights up, producing a shining silver wolf standing majestically, protectively, before him.
Lee Know
☆ "You're an interesting one," came the Hat's comment upon touching Minho's head, "you've certainly got your priorities...whatever those are. A unique mind for sure. Better be Ravenclaw!" Some of Minho's friends had teased him as a Slytherin, so he was a bit surprised. Not that he would let his house define him entirely.
☆ He hates the reputation and unnecessary pressure that comes with being a Pure-Blood. It’s stupid and not worth debating in Minho’s mind. The only benefit is just the resources and opportunities he might get, and it’s tempting to turn those down on principle. Money and status don’t matter to him at all and there’s a part of him that wants to ‘sully the bloodline’ just for the hell of it! Luckily his parents don’t care either.
☆ Potions whiz. One of the few who actually get it and enjoy the calm, precise art and its beautiful results and wants to go N.E.W.T. with it. He’s also great at Care of Magical Creatures, naturally focused on the well-being of animals and other living things over his own excitement or whims.
☆ Having a fear of heights, Flying is not it for him. No thanks. He passes, but barely, and in his mind it’s not a skill he plans to use.
☆ Naturally, Minho opts out of Quidditch signups, but instead joins the Gobstones club because he thinks spraying the losers with stone juice is funny. Also gets invited to the Slug Club for his Potions skills and influence.
☆ No one is surprised when Minho closes his eyes, focuses, and boom! Produces a little glowing cat bursting from his wand with a few swipes of its paw to groom its nonexistent striped fur.
Changbin
☆ "Quite a softie underneath it all, eh?" Beneath the weight of the tattered Hat, Changbin strikes a bit of a pose. "Got a lot of ambition, but you've also got a lot of...that. Hmmm..." The Hat muses for a few more moments. "At the end of the day, this one’s a Slytherin!” Pride flows through Changbin’s veins- he doesn’t care for the reputation of producing dark wizards, the potential snobbery. All he cares about is showing his ambition to be the best if he puts his mind to it.
☆ He’s a Half-Blood, but both of his parents are wizards so his familiarity is much more with the Wizarding World. He wants to understand Muggles better to connect with them, too, as well as Muggleborns.
☆ Taking Muggle Studies helps with this and learning about another culture is quite fascinating to him- technology especially is amazing, like that’s what people do instead of magic? Wires of captured lightning? Sounds pretty magical to Changbin. He gets into tinkering with technology because of this. Another class he enjoys is Defense Against the Dark Arts. Changbin loves feeling ready to protect himself and others, so that’s the class he spends the most time practicing and taking notes in. He always thinks of his friends and his sister as he does so.
☆ History of Magic is boring, though, Changbin wants to cast some spells! At the end of the day, where certain spells come from don’t matter to him as long as he can use them. However, the idea of showing up in a ‘great wizards’ history highlight one day is appealing to him…
☆ His strength comes in handy serving as one of Slytherin’s two Beaters. The other teams are lowkey afraid of the Bludgers Changbin sends their way because they know how hard he hits!
☆ Bets are flying on what his Patronus animal would be, a pig or a rabbit. Pig is the most popular choice, mostly in jest, but shushing them all Changbin focuses all the great joy he’s expressing…and out leaps a rabbit! Not just any rabbit, though, but the massive, fluffy form of a Flemish giant rabbit that has everyone laughing and Changbin grinning, reaching out to it.
Hyunjin
☆ Nearly the second the Sorting Hat rests atop his head, it's shouting 'Ravenclaw!' Hyunjin himself can't be surprised, really, not when he's heard talk of the great artists in that house. In fact, pride glows in his chest as he joins his table that the Hat could see that in him.
☆ The Hwangs are an old wizarding family. Hyunjin has a lot of opportunities because of this, but fights against the idea that he could be any better than anyone else because of a name. Rather, he is often seen lifting up Muggleborn classmates and highlighting struggled of other magical people.
☆ Ancient Runes comes naturally to Hyunjin, something about his eye for detail, symbols, and decoding. Language is an area of interest for him so that class is like a beautiful puzzle. Astronomy grants Hyunjin so much art inspiration as well as time to relax and appreciate the gifts of nature and their inherent magic.
☆ There's no one class he hates, but like a lot of students Hyunjin has a harder time focusing on all the information getting dumped on him in History of Magic.
☆ Hyunjin’s extracurriculars include the Muggle Art club where he hones his painting skills and the Ravenclaw Quidditch team, where he plays as the team’s Seeker.
☆ Expectations fly as everyone wonders what the next Hwang’s Patronus will be. Will he get a stag, the majestic animal associated with famous wizards? An eagle, symbolizing his house? Not at all, in fact what Hyunjin summons is a beautiful, delicate silver dove that lights upon his shoulder.
Han
☆ “Don’t be so shy, kid, you’ve got heart.” “Really? Thanks bro.” “Yes, that’s what I’m talking about,” the Hat chuckles, “this one’s a Hufflepuff!” Jisung’s eyes go wide. He wasn’t expecting to get Hufflepuff, but if the hat says so, well, who is he to fight it? It’s nice getting the kindest house, too- maybe he’ll make a lot of friends.
☆ As a Half-Blood, the heavy weight of prejudice never really fell on Jisung. Half-Bloods tended to fall between the cracks as having already been sullied, just middle ground. As he witnesses bullying more and more, though, his passion grows to somehow help others and remind people that nobody can help who their ancestors married.
☆ Charms are quick, snappy, spur-of-the-moment but effective in a pinch, and Jisung likes that. It's fun and he can cast charms as quickly as he cracks a joke or comeback! Ancient Runes brings him a lot of inspiration from history and other languages that he loves to bring to his songwriting.
☆ Flying, thank goodness, isn't enforced every year! It scares him, frankly, and he'd much rather stay on the ground where he belongs.
☆ Because flying isn’t his favorite, no way in hell is he doing it with giant leather and metal things trying to smash him. Nope. However he’ll happily watch and commentate, hence him taking the mic and giving very entertaining descriptions of everything that happens. He’s also in the Frog Choir, always trying to get them to perform one of his compositions.
☆ Jokes around that he’s going to get a massive Patronus animal like a bear or a lion, but once he sees the embodiment of his joy skipping from his wand as a little quokka, he can’t even be embarrassed, just smile!
Felix
☆ "Well, you're just a delight, aren't you?" Felix couldn't tell if the Hat was being sarcastic, but still he chose to respond in kind. "I try!" At that, the Sorting Hat chuckled. "Yes, this one's a Hufflepuff for sure!" His sister had told him as much, but Felix couldn't complain- he liked the idea of being a Hufflepuff!
☆ Felix is a Muggleborn, so he takes in every step of starting school with wonder…though it is a bit overwhelming feeling like everyone’s speaking another language sometimes. But then again, magic candy! Brewing potions!
☆ Absolute wonder at Care of Magical Creatures and Herbology. Felix is so gentle and good with every living thing, they practically request he be the one to handle them and that makes his heart burst with joy and honor! He also loves Potions, thinking the idea is so classic and cool, plus despite what most students say it’s kind of relaxing to him.
☆ Transfiguration dropped lower on his list when they started using living subjects. Sure, the idea that anyone and anything can grow and change and exist in many forms is really inspiring, but those poor mice and birds!
☆ Slug Club inductee part two! Even though he’s a Muggleborn with no direct influence, Felix is such a good student and avid potioneer that he’s a shoo-in. He also plays Quidditch as Hufflepuff’s Seeker.
☆ Felix isn’t sure what animal he’ll get, but he certainly isn’t expecting multiple! The entire class is shocked when a whole brood of chicks tumbles forth from his wand, eliciting shock and charmed coos alike.
Seungmin
☆ "This one's a bit of a surprise now," the Hat commented upon being set atop Seungmin's head. Seungmin couldn't help wondering what that meant and if it was bad, how to prove the Hat wrong. "No, lad, all you just did was prove my point. Looks can be deceiving, after all. Slytherin!" He wasn't sure what he expected, but that might not have been it. Sort of made sense, though- he could have fun with that!
☆ He can’t help wondering if the Hat chose as it did because he’s a Pure-Blood, taking Salazar’s old favors into account. Then again, he did just throw a cheating Gryffindor under the bus in class…
☆ Thinking logically is no trouble for Seungmin, so Arithmancy isn’t a bad choice for him. Connecting relationships between numbers and their power just makes sense to him- eight is his lucky number, after all. He also frequents the Potions dungeon, but that’s mostly just to brew the photo solution that grants his personal art projects motion!
☆ Defense Against the Dark Arts is a fun and active class, but it's boisterous and people take the duels too far sometimes.
☆ Frankly, he didn’t have time to join the Quidditch team due to his other extracurriculars, being an avid Frog Choir singer and the Hogwarts paper’s photographer.
☆ Everyone is sure the student everyone sees as a puppy will get a dog for his Patronus. Imagine their surprise when he casts a tanuki! Cute and cunning, no one can deny it matches him perfectly in the end.
I.N
☆ He forgot the Hat could read his thoughts. “So you want a house where you can show your talents and look out for people, huh?” Flushing, Jeongin just nods with a faint, bashful smile. “Well, better be Gryffindor, then!” He’s surprised, thinking maybe he’d have gotten Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff- he isn’t particularly brave, is he? “Trust me, kid, you’ll find your way,” the Hat promises, and do its eyelike folds wink?
☆ As a Half-Blood, he has knowledge of the Wizarding World, but also life outside of magic. Having one Muggle parent means one person getting yanked into the world of wonder, after all! Jeongin is proud to understand both sides of his world and guide his friends on how Muggles really live.
☆ Details don’t escape Jeongin, so he loves drawing star charts for Astronomy. Transfiguration is another favorite of his for similar reasons: he enjoys the focus, the idea that he can reshape objects into something greater or something new. It feels symbolic, poetic.
☆ Potions stresses him out because it's so easy to burn things or measure wrong; even if little details usually fascinate him, he can be a bit clumsy with the required finesse.
☆ Joins the wizard chess club, art club, and plays Quidditch- what can’t our baby bread do? Jeongin becomes Gryffindor’s Seeker, one especially known for turning the tides of the game for his team completely!
☆ He can barely contain his excitement that day in Defense Against the Dark Arts when it comes time to cast Patronus charms! He wonders if his animal will look like him and he certainly gets his wish when a charming little desert fox pops forth.
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danielfeketewrites · 5 months
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DOCTOR WHO TOP 10 - 4th Doctor
Finally, the lists return!
10. How to Win Planets and Influence People
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The Monk gives a talk on conquering planet Earth. Rufus Hound is great. James Goss is one of the best current expanded universe writers. Overall, it's just a really funny story.
9. Red Planet
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I love Twelve Angels Weeping, it's an amazing anthology. My two favourite stories from that, "Celestial Intervention" and "The Red-Eyed League" are Doctorless, so I need to get some of those other lovely short stories on these list (there will be a few more coming).
I have a soft spot for this one. Partially because I love Ice Warriors, but mostly because it's a really cool story with Leela, which... I don't want to necessarily talk about why just an existence of a cool story with Leela can make me cry - but it is what it is. Go read Twelve Angels Weeping.
8. City of the Damned
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Such a creative, well-told story, with so many clever gags and interesting ideas. It's a dystopian tale filled with things to think about, while also being thrilling as well as really fun.
And I love the ending, as the implications are hilarious.
7. Genesis of the Daleks
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It's Genesis of the Daleks. What else can I say?
6. The Keeper of Traken
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Season 18 has such a different vibe to anything else in Classic Who and I love it. And, admittedly, The Keeper of Traken is just the best story out of that season, imo.
It also has my favourite Doctor Who cliffhanger ever.
5. The Face of Evil
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This is such an underrated story. I don't think people talk enough about how brilliant it is. The set-ups and pay-offs, the introduction of Leela, Tom Baker being at the top of his game, strong visual imagery, great sci-fi concepts... It's a masterpiece and should be recognized as such more often.
4. Tomb of Valdemar
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I've read it six years ago in about two weeks and I still think about some of the stuff in this book. Absolutely amazing, one of the best Doctor Who books ever.
3. The Pirate Planet
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MOONS OF MADNESS!
2. City of Death
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Smart, fun, beautiful. Possibly the best Classic Who story to show to the uninitiated.
1. Shada
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Yeah, my top 3 is just the Douglas Adams stories. I am biased.
Shada is favourite Doctor Who story ever. Specifically the version with the missing bits narrated by Tom Baker, because I haven't gotten around to reading the script yet.
Chronotis is wonderful, probably my favourite side character ever. I love the ending. The dynamic between the Doctor and Romana is perfect. The ideas are huge and mythic, Cambridge is such a wonderful setting (I've actually been there, on the river Cam, btw)... I'm not sure how to explain it - there's just something so special to me about Shada. I love it.
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midchelle · 7 months
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Thank you @raylangivins for tagging mwahhh kisses :)))
How many works do you have on ao3?
A humble 6.
What's your total ao3 word count?
34,148, would be 90,571 if I hadn't orphaned a fic a while back.
What fandoms do you write for?
It's currently the Beatles, but I used to write some other stuff. YA series. Let's not get into it.
What are your top 5 fics by kudos?
oh, what a night! - Paul's not looking at John, he’s watching his fingers follow the line of John’s clavicle to his shoulder. “Not going to sleep, then?” “No.” John swallows, feels the dexie scrape down his oesophagus. “Was rather hoping for an encore, myself.” Obertauern, February 1965
Sorry Girls, He's Married - The morning after the Ed Sullivan Show, John is in a strange mood. Cyn is asleep. Paul makes a bad choice || New York City, February 1964 (Added a summary to this a while ago because I remembered it just didn't have one lol)
the late, great, johnny ace - 1981. Paul is making an album.
my brother's keeper - There is a certain clinical satisfaction in seeing just how bad things can get || Chicago, August 1966
you and i have memories - Over the years, John has had many way-out ideas, but fucking off to California and having his memory wiped is certainly a novel one, even for him. (2/5)
Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?
Yeah I try to! I'm kind of a boomer when it comes to AO3 functionality, so sometimes I miss a few of them, but they're always super appreciated and I try to make sure that I show that.
What is a fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?
Probably tell me all my love's in vain. The actual situation in johnny ace is much, much angstier, but the ending has a bit of hope, at least.
What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?
oh, what a night! Absolutely zero conflict throughout.
Do you get hate on fics?
I had one person be irritating in the comments of a fic, but otherwise everyone's been lovely.
Do you write smut?
yeah
Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written?
I haven't yet, might after I read the Marianne Faithfull/Edie Sedgwick bios that have been sitting on my desk for ages.
Have you ever had a fic stolen?
Someone could've stolen something I posted on Wattpad/ff.net and I wouldn't even know at this point because I can't get into the accounts.
Have you ever had a fic translated?
Think someone on ff.net offered to translate the now orphaned fic a while ago. Can't recall what language.
Have you ever co-written a fic before?
No, but I'm open to doing it should the muse strike us simultaneously.
What's your all-time favorite ship?
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this dynamic <33
What's a wip you want to finish, but doubt you ever will?
I had an idea for a Twilight fic some time ago that I never finished because I didn't know enough about Twilight, but it was a pretty good concept. I might use it for original fiction sometime, I dunno.
What are your writing strengths?
I dunno, you tell me. Descriptions, jokes, bad vibes, idk.
What are your writing weaknesses?
I hate writing the connective tissue bits between scenes, which is why most of my longer fics are in vignette form, and I get fed up of the fic if I've been working on it for a while, so my endings tend to be a bit lazier. Also, I'm not very good at plot. I'm mostly a vibes-based writer.
Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?
It's usually pretty easy to get around, especially if the character themselves doesn't speak the language. One of my biggest pet peeves in fiction in general is the egregious use of recognizable foreign words to show the audience they're speaking another language when everything else is in English. Don't be doing that.
First fandom you wrote for?
Percy Jackson, I think. Self insert ofc, never posted anywhere.
Favorite fic you've written?
Doing the opposite of the way parents pic their favourite child and saying whichever was the last one.
tagging (no pressure!): @aquarianshift @boshemians @eveepe
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bonesandthebees · 8 months
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Rose time! I realised I didn’t look at the tag… WHAT DO YOU MEAN EXECUTION?!?! Like attempted murder was a given, but execution?! That invokes fear. Execution could be anyone (except Wilbur cuz he’s the pov character). You know what invokes more fear? Friends to enemies. Bee, what have you done to rainduo? Bee, please. Unless all three of those relationships are the same (probably crimeboys) relaxation, which would be a rollercoaster, I am very scared for Niki and Wilbur’s friendship (which fair but I’ll get to that complexity). Also, Enemies to family, but like in an unhealthy way -> of course it is, it wouldn’t be a Bee story without some unhealthy relationships. Also this one definitely is Crimeboys.
Anyway, don’t mind me getting distracted by the tags, I just always forget to read them but there’s a lot you can get out of them. (Don’t mind me looking at that dysfunctional family tag and glancing and Sandduo.) like this story is going to be spicy and I’m here for it.
For the rest of this ask I’m just going to yell about things and then I’ll get to the analysis next ask. The origins tag? Amazing! 1. Because o!Phil is such a cool character I wish we got to see more of and that’ll be very fun mixed in with dsmp!Phil. 2. Sneeg!!! 3. Phil and Sneeg origins dynamic, which is obviously going to be in the background, but still!
Also, Ranboo being on Wilbur side compared to the other side is very interesting given how you wrote him in Stars, like he was a flawed character, but he did fool both Wilbur and Tommy on multiple occasions. Which rip Rose!Tommy already, I’m sorry that kid is going to have a TIME. And probably not a good one.
And the Wilbur dynamics are off the charts, childhood best friends rainduo is *chef’s kiss* especially with the shared habits and Wilbur’s clear loyalty, but how loyal is he really? Tntduo strike the perfect, we are technically on opposite teams, but we are still friends and Quackity saying Wilbur would still have a place says a lot about their dynamic and how Quackity views Wilbur (I’ll get to that). And the Sandduo. Bee, I have WORDS about the Sandduo. There’s so many layers, I’m going to have a blast peeling them all back. Wilbur has daddy issues and it SHOWS. And Phil loves his son. He really does want the best for that boy. He may just also be slightly fucking him up in the process because this man has the emotional intelligence of a grain of salt.
Also, Techno! I hope we get to see more of him! We should with the meetings and all, but I can’t say to much about him because we’ve barely seen him. Btw, what does Keeper mean / do? I’ll look it up too, but I wanted to ask.
(I’m going to have to look up so much of the vocabulary in this, which is great because I’m learning new works, but imagining some of the clothes is hard because those tend to be the words I don’t know and I didn’t have time to look it up while reading yesterday.)
-🌲
LMAO I knew the execution tag would get people. it's been very funny to see everyones reactions to it so far. can't wait for it to actually come into play :) also it's really funny to see everyone try to guess which pairings fit up with which tags. also I don't want to give too much away but, like, I'll give you the obvious one that yeah enemies to family but in an unhealthy way is crimeboys. we all knew that one was coming lmao
YEAHHH o!phil my beloved! I mean we actually did see a bit of o!phil in stars. stars!phil was a mix of dsmp, origins, and smp earth phil for sure, but the o!phil influence is definitely going to be a lot more obvious in rose. also I think I said this in one of the other asks I just answered, but besides o!phil the main reason I wanted to throw the osmp tag on there was because I just really want to have sneeg in a fic lol. I love o!phil and o!sneeg's dynamic so much so I'm so excited I get to include it in this.
lol yeah ranboo's definitely not going to have as big of a role in rose as they did in stars, but it'll be interesting to have him on wilbur's side this time around. or rather, I guess it's more fitting to say they're on phil's side. wilbur just reaps the benefits of finding out everything ranboo knows because they tell sneeg and sneeg tells phil and phil tells wilbur. little game of telephone going on here.
so glad you're enjoying the wilbur dynamics so far because I'm having so much fun with them :D childhood best friends rainduo means so much to me. they share so much of themselves with each other. so many shared habits, secrets, promises, memories—I'm so excited to dig into that friendship and let the stress of their situation press down on the seams :)
tntduo too there's so much going on there. they're friends but also they've always technically been on opposing sides. they have a lot of mutual respect for each other. they're also childhood friends but it was always niki and wilbur vs quackity. it's a lot going on
YEAHHH the sandduo was the bit i was most excited for you to see. there are so many layers to them. oh my GOD wilbur's daddy issues are off the charts in this, and it's not even like phil's a bad dad. i mean, the lessons he's already instilled into his son's head are definitely questionable, but he loves his kid a lot! he wants him to succeed. he wants him to continue his legacy. he wants to make sure wilbur learns all the lessons phil himself had to learn the hard way. but also, he has no emotional intelligence whatsoever. surely this will have no long lasting impacts on wilbur's psyche.
we'll get more of techno I promise! he's not going to be a main character but he'll be very present! the 'keeper' is meant to be a 'keeper of knowledge' (I haven't officially decided on the full job title but it's something like that). essentially, he's the palace librarian/archivist. he manages important documents and records and also oversees the library, and was also charged with being wilbur and niki's tutor as they were growing up.
yeah I'm so sorry about the clothes I'm trying my best to describe them but a lot of them you're just gonna have to google because I can't describe them all very well and sometimes I just gotta use the lesser known official term for them. if there's ever any outfit/item of clothing I mention in the text that you don't know, feel free to shoot me an ask about it and I'll find a reference pic for you!!
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escape-from-arcadia · 2 years
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0: THE FOOL
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Meet Cayden Tran (they/them). Cayden is an ordinary human who seems to be cursed with bad luck (spoiler alert: they kind of sort of actually are). They're a self-proclaimed cryptid hunter and conspiracy theorist, and they accidentally stumble into the mysteries of Arcadia.
First full piece I've done for one of my TOA OCs, and the first formal introduction to them. I'm going to try and make more cards from the Major Arcana for my OCs.
More info about Cayden under the cut:
Ever since they were little, Cayden has been surrounded by bad luck and near-death experiences, always managing to barely escape from danger. They explored the woods behind their house all of the time, and always came home covered in dirt and scratches. They’ve seen strange creatures and took up trying to photograph them, getting a few successful shots (various trolls and goblins). Their father, despite being a busy researcher, would always carve time out to camp with Cayden on the weekends and take care of them. Cayden and their dad moved to Arcadia when they were 10 from Washington state after their father picked up a job at the museum.
Cayden didn’t like Arcadia much at first, but when they heard about the strange creatures, it piqued their interest. Now they run a moderately successful blog all about the mysterious sightings. Every night (or as often as a high-schooler can) they go out and explore the forest or streets, looking for the strange and unusual. In their bag, they keep a composition notebook (for notes), a digital camera (for evidence), and a tape recorder (for interviews). They have the passion and researching capabilities of their father and use their skills to find out what’s really going on in Arcadia Oaks.
Cayden is also kind of the ultimate secret keeper, which is ironic given how much they love talking about what they find on Tumblr. Even though they love uncovering mysteries and sharing what they learn, if they find something personal about others or the creatures they meet (yeah, they've tried interviewing gnomes, and goblins before), they won't share it.
This is how they happen to learn that their classmates Aja and Krel are Akiridions, the waiter at one of their favorite cafés in town Hisirdoux Casperan is actually a centuries years old wizard, and James Lake Jr. in the grade below them is the Trollhunter. (It all happens in this order.) Cayden serves as the unofficial guardian of secrets in Arcadia, learning about the lives of the magical and extraterrestrial beings in it, and trying to keep their secrets from coming out.
With their bad luck though, things rarely go well for Cayden. Notebooks go missing and never return. Their camera breaks al of the time. Cayden also always seems to find their way into the ER. They become good friends with Dr. Barbara Lake, who grows increasingly concerned about Cayden as a mom. (I like the idea that part of the reason she gets worried for Jim is because of Cayden - she sees that Cayden clearly gets themself into trouble all of the time, but they always brushes it off as fine. She's seen their medical history. They're not doing great.)
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Design-wise, I wanted Cayden to feel a bit patched together. Their jeans, which you can't see here) are ripped (not a fashion choice). Their zip-up hoodie has a ton of patches sewn onto it and pins. Cayden has very dark brown-black hair and dark grey eyes. They have a few piercings and wear a (plot-relevant!) piece of obsidian around their neck, something apparently from their mother. They usually like dark reds, blacks, and grays. They are average height at around 5' 5" (165 cm).
Personality: Cayden is stubborn and quiet, but also intuitive and resilient. Cayden isn’t the most out-going person you’ll ever meet. They don’t talk much with many of the other kids in Arcadia. They don’t like having people joining them on adventures in the forest and around Arcadia. Once they get to know people, they actually don't mind having them around; they actually like teaching people about cryptids so long as they keep an open mind. They don't like having people around them because they're scared of bad things happening to them. Even so, Cayden does have a few moments where they think they’re invincible and can dive headfirst recklessly into dangerous situations just because “bad things have happened to me before and I always make it out, why can’t I do it now?” This does begin to spiral out of control.
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Other bits and bobs:
Cayden is Vietnamese-American and non-binary. They are panromantic asexual.
They bought their own binder before they came out to their dad. He was actually incredibly supportive of them though and is incredibly protective of them.
Cayden speaks Vietnamese conversationally.
Cayden is horrible at math, but is too stubborn to ask for help.
They're in junior year.
Their birthday is November 14. They're 17 years old in Trollhunters Season 2/3Below Season 1.
Cayden has many scars on their body from various accidents. They're incredibly self-conscious about them, which is why you won't catch them dead without at least a long-sleeved shirt and jeans.
Their dysphoria and scars are the reason Cayden doesn't like pool parties.
They've had surgery four times before seventeen for a number of different reasons.
They're highly agile from doing track. They would do field, but Coach Lawrence won't let them anywhere near projectiles in class for the safety of themself and others.
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sgt-paul · 3 years
Text
Paul McCartney Is Still Trying to Figure Out Love – The New York Times Magazine
By David Marchese, Nov. 29, 2020
Paul McCartney, like the rest of us, this year found himself with an unexpected amount of time stuck indoors. Unlike the rest of us — or most of us, anyway — he used that time to record a new album. The pandemic-induced circumstances of its creation may mark “McCartney III” as an outlier in the former Beatle’s catalog, but as its title suggests, it does have precedents: Like “McCartney” (1970) and “McCartney II” (1980), the album, out Dec. 18, was primarily recorded by McCartney alone, with him playing nearly all the instruments and handling all the production. “At no point,” McCartney said, “did I think: I’m making an album. I’d better be serious. This was more like: You’re locked down. You can do whatever the hell you want.” Which was a gas, as always. “What I’m amazed with,” McCartney explained, “is that I’m not fed up with music. Because, strictly speaking, I should have gotten bored years ago.”
It seems to me that working on music by yourself, as you did on the new album, might allow for some insights about what you do and how you do it. So are there aspects of “McCartney III” that represent creative growth to you? 
The idea of growing and adding more arrows to your bow is nice, but I’m not sure if I’m interested in it. The thing is, when I look back to “Yesterday,” which was written when I was 21 or something, there’s me talking like a 90-year-old: “Suddenly I’m not half the man I used to be.” Things like that and “Eleanor Rigby” have a kind of wisdom. You would naturally think, OK, as I get older I’m going to get deeper, but I’m not sure that’s true. I think it’s a fact of life that personalities don’t change much. Throughout your life, there you are.
Is there anything different about the nature of your musical gift today at 78 than in 1980 or 1970 or when you first started writing songs? 
It’s the story that you’re telling. That changes. When I first said to John, “I’ve written a few songs,” they were simple. My first song was called “I Lost My Little Girl” — four chords. Then we went into the next phase of songwriting, which was talking to our fans. Those were songs like “Thank You Girl,” “Love Me Do,” “Please Please Me.” Then came a rich vein as we got more mature, with things like “Let It Be,” “The Long and Winding Road.” But basically I think it’s all the same, and you get lucky sometimes. Like, “Let It Be” came from a dream where my mother had said that phrase. “Yesterday” came from a dream of a melody. I’m a great believer in dreams. I’m a great rememberer of dreams.
What’s the last interesting dream you had? 
Last night’s was pretty good.
What was it? 
It was of a sexual nature, so I’m not sure it’s good for the Kids section. Pretty cool, though. Very interesting, dreams of a sexual nature when you’re married. Because your married head is in the dream saying: “Don’t do this. Don’t go here.” And just to let you know, I didn’t. It was still a good dream.
You know, I was conscious of not mentioning the Beatles early in this interview, and you’ve already mentioned them a few times. So let me ask you: The band broke up 50 years ago. You were in it for roughly 10 years. When you’re not doing interviews or playing concerts, how central to your own story of your life are those 10 years from half a century ago? 
Very. It was a great group. That’s commonly acknowledged.
Generally speaking. 
[Laughs.] It’s like your high school memories — those are my Beatles memories. This is the danger: At a dinner party, I am liable to tell stories about my life, and people already know them. I can see everyone stifling a yawn. But the Beatles are inescapable. My daughter Mary will send me a photo or a text a few times a week: “There you were on an advert” or “I heard you on the radio.” The thing that amazes me now, because of my venerable age, is that I will be with, like, one of New York’s finest dermatologists, and he will be a rabid Beatles fan. All of that amazes me. We were trying to get known, we were trying to do good work and we did it. So to me, it’s all happy memories.
“McCartney III” will come out very close to the 40th anniversary of John Lennon’s death. Has your processing of what happened to him changed over the years? 
It’s difficult for me to think about. I rerun the scenario in my head. Very emotional. So much so that I can’t really think about it. It kind of implodes. What can you think about that besides anger, sorrow? Like any bereavement, the only way out is to remember how good it was with John. Because I can’t get over the senseless act. I can’t think about it. I’m sure it’s some form of denial. But denial is the only way that I can deal with it. Having said that, of course I do think about it, and it’s horrible. You do things to help yourself out of it. I did an interview with Sean, his son. That was nice — to talk about how cool John was and fill in little gaps in his knowledge. So it’s little things that I am able to do, but I know that none of them can get over the hill and make it OK. But you know, after he was killed, he was taken to Frank Campbell’s funeral parlor in New York. I’m often passing that. I never pass it without saying: “All right, John. Hi, John.”
And how about your perspective on the work you did together? Has that changed? 
I always thought it was good. I still think it’s good. Sometimes I had to reassure him that it was good. I remember one time he said to me: “What are they going to think of me when I’m dead? Am I going to be remembered?” I felt like the older brother, even though he was older than me. I said: “John, listen to me. You are going to be so remembered. You are so [expletive] great that there’s no way that this disappears.” I guess that was a moment of insecurity on his part. He straightened me up on other occasions. It was a great collaboration. I can’t think of any better collaboration, and there have been millions. I feel very lucky. We happened upon each other in Liverpool through a friend of mine, Ivan Vaughan. Ivan said, “I think you’d like this mate of mine.” Everyone’s lives have magic, but that guy putting me and John together and then George getting on a bus — an awful lot of coincidences had to happen to make the Beatles.
People always ask you about John. I’ve noticed they rarely ask about George, who of course also died relatively young. 
John is probably the one in the group you would remember, but the circumstances of his death were particularly harrowing. When you die horrifically, you’re remembered more. But I like your point, which is: What about George? I often think of George because he was my little buddy. I was thinking the other day of my hitchhiking bursts. This was before the Beatles. I suddenly was keen on hitchhiking, so I sold this idea to George and then John.
I know this memory. You and George hitchhiked to Paignton.
Yeah, Exeter and Paignton. We did that, and then I also hitchhiked with John. He and I got as far as Paris. What I was thinking about was — it’s interesting how I was the instigator. Neither of them came to me and said, “Should we go hitchhiking?” It was me, like, “I’ve got this great idea.”
Why is that interesting? 
My theory is that attitude followed us into our recording career. Everyone was hanging out in the sticks, and I used to ring them up and say, “Guys, it’s time for an album.” Then we’d all come in, and they’d all be grumbling. “He’s making us work.” We used to laugh about it. So the same way I instigated the hitchhiking holidays, I would put forward ideas like, “It’s time to make an album.” I don’t remember Ringo, George or John ever ringing me up and saying that.
How strange is it to share an idle recollection from your youth, as you just did with that hitchhiking story, and then have the person to whom you’re sharing it — in this case, me — know the memory? It seems as though it would be weird. 
It’s quite annoying, David. It’s like people at dinner yawning when I’m telling stories. This keeps happening to me.
I even know the details. You and George slept on the beach. 
That’s right.
Some Salvation Army girls kept you warm. 
Yes.
Then at some point you sat on a car battery and zapped your ass? 
That was George who did that! I have a very clear recollection. He showed me the scar. Let’s set the record straight: It was George’s ass, and it was a burn the exact shape of a zip from his jeans.
Do you remember the last thing George said to you? 
We said silly things. We were in New York before he went to Los Angeles to die, and they were silly but important to me. And, I think, important to him. We were sitting there, and I was holding his hand, and it occurred to me — I’ve never told this — I don’t want to hold George’s hand. You don’t hold your mate’s hands. I mean, we didn’t anyway. And I remember he was getting a bit annoyed at having to travel all the time — chasing a cure. He’d gone to Geneva to see what they could do. Then he came to a special clinic in New York to see what they could do. Then the thought was to go to L.A. and see what they could do. He was sort of getting a bit, “Can’t we just stay in one place?” And I said: “Yes, Speke Hall. Let’s go to Speke Hall.” That was one of the last things we said to each other, knowing that he would be the only person in the room who would know what Speke Hall was. You probably know what the hell it is.
Yep.
I can’t amaze you with anything! Anyway, the nice thing for me when I was holding George’s hands, he looked at me, and there was a smile.
How many good Beatles stories are there left to tell that haven’t been told? 
There are millions. Sometimes the reason is that they’re too private, and I don’t want to go gossiping. But the main stories do get told and told again.
Can you think of one now that you haven’t told before? 
Hmm. I will rake through the embers. Oh, I’ll tell you one! I thought of one this morning. It’s pretty good. I don’t think I’ve told it. You’re going to have to say in the article, “I forced this out of him,” because it’s a bit telling-out-of-school.
I am hereby twisting your arm. 
So when we did the album “Abbey Road,” the photographer was set up and taking the pictures that ended up as the album cover. Linda was also there taking incidental pictures. She has some that are of us — I think it was all four of us — sitting on the steps of Abbey Road studios, taking a break from the session, and I’m in quite earnest conversation with John. This morning I thought, I remember why. John’s accountants had rung my accountants and said: “Someone’s got to tell John he’s got to fill in his tax returns. He’s not doing it.” So I was trying to say to him, “Listen, man, you’ve got to do this.” I was trying to give him the sensible advice on not getting busted for not doing your taxes. That’s why I looked so earnest. I don’t think I’ve told that story before.
Tax filings — that’s some deep arcana. 
I have dredged the barrel.
I know that your goal with making music is to do something that pleases yourself. What’s most pleasing to you on the new album? 
I’m very happy with “Women and Wives.” I’ve been reading a book about Lead Belly. I was looking at his life and thinking about the blues scene of that day. I love that tone of voice and energy and style. So I was sitting at my piano, and I’m thinking about Huddie Ledbetter, and I started noodling around in the key of D minor, and this thing came to me. “Hear me women and wives” — in a vocal tone like what I imagine a blues singer might make. I was taking clues from Lead Belly, from the universe, from blues. And why I’m pleased with it is because the lyrics are pretty good advice. It’s advice I wouldn’t mind getting myself.
There’s a song on “McCartney III,” “Pretty Boys,” that is kind of unusual for you in how the music is sort of unassuming but the lyrics have an almost sinister edge. What inspired that one? 
I’ll tell you exactly. I’ve been photographed by many photographers through the years. And when you get down to London, doing sessions with people like David Bailey, they can get pretty energetic in the studio. It’s like “Blow-Up,” [the director Michelangelo Antonioni’s 1966 film thriller about a fashion photographer, thought to be loosely based on David Bailey] you know? “Give it to me! [Expletive] the lens!” And it’s like: “What? No, I’m not going to.” But I understand why they’re doing that. They’re that kind of artist. So you allow it. Certain photographers — they tend to be very good photographers, by the way — can be totally out of line in the studio. So “Pretty Boys” is about male models. And going around New York or London, you see the lines of bicycles for hire. It struck me that they’re like models, there to be used. It’s most unfortunate.
“Lavatory Lil” is another song I was curious about. That’s quite a title. 
“Lavatory Lil” is a parody of someone I didn’t like. Someone I was working with who turned out to be a bit of a baddie. I thought things were great; it turned nasty. So I made up the character Lavatory Lil and remembered some of the things that had gone on and put them in the song. I don’t need to be more specific than that. I will never divulge who it was.
I have another bigger-picture question. In your experience, how is the love in a marriage different at different stages of your life and in different marriages?
I don’t think it’s different. It’s always a splendid puzzle. Even though I write love songs, I don’t think I know what’s going on. It would be great if it was smooth and wonderful all the time, but you get pockets of that, and sometimes it’s — you could be annoying. To Nancy I’m pretty complex, with everything I’ve been through.
In what ways? 
I’m some poor working-class kid from Liverpool. I’ve done music all my life. I’ve had huge success, and people often try to do what I want, so you get a false feeling of omnipotence. All that together makes a complex person. We’re all complex. Well, maybe I’m more complex than other people because of coming from poverty.
And how do you think about money these days? 
It has obviously changed. What has stayed the same is the central core. When I was in Liverpool as a kid, I used to listen to people’s conversations. I remember a couple of women going on about money: “Ah, me and my husband, we’re always arguing about money.” And I remember thinking very consciously, “OK, I’ll solve that; I will try to get money.” That set me off on the “Let’s not have too many problems with money” trail. What happened also was, not having much money, when anything came into the house, it was important. It was important when my weekly comic was delivered. Or my penpal — I had a penpal in Spain, Rodrigo — when his letter came through, that was a big event. When they had giveaways in comics with little trinkets, I kept them all. Some people would say that’s a hoarding instinct, but not having anything when I was a kid has stuck with me as far as money. You know, I’m kind of crazy. My wife is not. She knows you can get rid of things you don’t need.
You’re a hoarder? 
I’m a keeper. If I go somewhere and I get whatever I bought in a nice bag, I will want to keep the bag. My rationale is that I might want to put my sandwiches in it tomorrow. Whereas Nancy says, “We’ll get another bag.” In that way, my attitude toward money hasn’t changed that much. It’s the same instinct to preserve. One of the great things now about money is what you can do with it. Family and friends, if they have any medical problem, I can just say, “I’ll help.” The nicest thing about having money is you can help people with it.
Something that has been a constant for you musically is your ability to keep coming up with melodies. It’s there on the new album — the melodies all flow. Is your facility for writing a catchy melody ever an obstacle to getting the songs to be more than just catchy? Because a good tune by itself is not always enough to make a good song. “Bip Bop” would be an example of that. Do you know what I’m saying? 
No, I know. “Bip Bop” is not lyrically stunning. I was always embarrassed about that song. Literally, it goes, “Bip Bop / take your bottom dollar.” It’s inconsequential. But I mentioned that to a friend, a producer, a few years ago, and he said, “That’s my favorite song of yours.” So you don’t know what people like. It’s enough if I like it and enjoyed putting it on record and don’t particularly want to think of any more lyrics. I don’t want to sweat it. Sometimes maybe it would be better if I sweated it. Once or twice I tried to sweat it, and I hated it. It’s like, What are you doing this for?
Sixty-something years into writing songs, do you feel any closer to knowing where melodies come from? 
No. There is something with my ability to write music that I don’t think I’m necessarily responsible for. It just seems to come easier to me — touch wood — than it does to some people. That’s it. I’m a fortunate man.
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rogue-durin-16 · 3 years
Text
OUT OF TROUBLE
Summary: After a Quidditch match, both George and Y/n sneaked out to grab a drink at the Three Broomsticks with their respective teammates. The tension between the two groups might end up causing more trouble than imagined.
Pairing: George Weasley x Slytherin!Reader
Genre: kinda angsty kinda fluffy
Tags:
George Weasley: @meph1stophelian
Permanent taglist: @elia-the-bibliophile @randomparanoid @karlthecat15722 @thebutchersdaughtersblog @amourtentiaa @just-here-to-escape-from-reality @skarlettmikaelson
Warnings: blood, injuries, violence, concussion, language (?)
A/N: idk what to say apart from the idea of George losing his shit big time won't leave me alone and idek why (blaming it on that scene in the Order of the Phoenix in which George and Harry beat Malfoy the fuck up) so enjoy <3
Rogue-durin-16 masterlist
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"Well," McGonagall's severe eyes scrutinized all six of us from the other side of her desk. "who is going to give us" she briefly motioned at Snape, who stood by her side with an unimpressed yet disappointed look on his face. "a proper explanation of why Madam Rosmerta so kindly let us know that not only seven of our seventh year students were on Hogsmeade without permission,"
"But also making a scene and coming to blows." Snape finished, quirking a brow. "Do you know how lucky you are that Madam Rosmerta picked on the fact that you were students?" The potions teacher's eyes fixed on the three Gryffindors before inquiring, "Who started it?"
Silence.
"Merlin's— There is a student in the hospital wing!" McGonagall exclaimed outraged. "You all ought to come clean about this one."
More silence.
"Mister Weasley, you seem to be unusually quiet." The Head of Slytherin pointed out.
"Well, you see, professor," George's head, which had until that moment been resting on his arms over the school desk, was tilted up slightly. "I've got a bit of a headache going on." He motioned at the back of his head, in which a patch of dried blood had glued his hair.
"Weasley, I must insist on you to go see Madam Pomfrey." McGonagall's tone, although remaining severe, softened a bit.
"Nah, 's not that bad." George gave Warrington a side look and forced himself to sit upright.
"I'm going to ask again." Snape spoke. "Who started it?" He weighed the possibilities before inquiring, "Mister Weasley?"
"Why me?!" George flinched at his own shouting.
"Do you want me to believe the state Mister Montague was left in was Miss Spinnet's doing? Miss Bell's, perhaps?" The Gryffindor girls grumbled under their breaths, catching the professor's attention. "What was that?"
"I said why us?" Katie questioned with a tinge of indignation. "Is it because we're Gryffindors?"
"Obviously." Snape spat, earning a roll from Mcgonagall, though she didn't oppose her colleague.
Alicia only laughed humorlessly and folded her arms over her chest.
"We can stay here all night, if you'd like it that way." McGonagall stated after around five minutes of just silence.
"Ugh, fine." George let his head fall in the comfort of his forearms again and groaned, "it was me— I started it. Can we go now?"
"What the hell?!"
"Miss Spinnet!" McGonagall scolded her, stomping her desk.
"Can we go now or not?" George's eyes met my shocked gaze briefly.
"Everyone but you, Mister Weasley." McGonagall stated.
"Wait, no." I tapped my foot nervously against the tiles and took at deep breath. "It wasn't him, it was me."
"Miss Y/l/n!" I refused to meet McGonagall's and Snape's face, so I left my eyes casted down, but I still heard the professors' quiet whispers. "What on Godric's name happened?"
Two Hours Earlier
After a Quidditch victory in Slytherin's favor, some of us had resolved to sneak out of the castle and go celebrate with a drink in Hogsmeade.
Turns out some Gryffindors had had the same idea, though the drink they were having was definitely not a celebration.
"Look who's here," Montague nodded in the Gryffindors direction, purposefully walking in their direction. "You're missing half of the team!" He chuckled, not stopping more than a couple of seconds. "Are they crying on their dorms?"
"Get lost, Montague." Katie Bell spat, earning faces from both Graham and Cassius. Alicia Spinnet flipped us off, and George limited himself to give me a small wave, which I returned with a little smile.
"How's the place this crowed?" Kevin questioned with a frown as we tried and failed to find an empty booth.
"No idea." I replied, taking a look around. "I'll go grab the drinks, you look for a place, yeah?" Cassius nodded and I made my way to the counter; I could feel Bell's and Spinnet's dirty looks on me while I ordered the butter beers.
"Celebrating, are we?" My head turned to meet George's form, leaning on the counter besides me.
"Yup." I shortly answered with a proud grin.
"You're missing your seeker." I rolled my eyes at his comment. "I wonder where he's at."
"You know where he's at." I quirked my brow when he played dumb, a smug smile dancing on his lips. "I'm very aware it was you who sent him to the hospital wing."
"It was actually a bludger." He pointed out, giving Madam Rosmerta the coins for a butter beer.
"Oi, what are you doing?" I attempted to shove his hand away, but there was no use.
"Smoothly buying you a drink?" He winked and I felt blood going up to my cheeks. "Just her drink, though." He added, looking at Rosmerta.
"No you're not— he's not." The owner of the Three Broomsticks gave us a look but ended up accepting my money instead.
"Aw c'mon, Y/n" George pouted while Rosmerta passed me the drinks. "I've just lost an important match, let me have a win?"
"You can buy me the next drink," I resolved, chuckling at the way his expression lighted up. "but only if you don't cause trouble."
"Pfft I'm too depressed to cause trouble." I could tell he wasn't joking, though he still made it sound humorous. "Need help with that?" He motioned at the four drinks I was attempting to grab.
"No she doesn't."
George visibly grimaced at the sight of Cassius but, instead of snapping at him, he only leaned on me and pecked my cheek after saying, "No trouble, see?"
"Piss off, Weasley."
"No need to be that rude." I spat, taking two glasses in my hand.
"No need to consort with the enemy." He responded, picking up the remaining jars.
We approached the spot our Quidditch team had taken and had a surprisingly uneventful good time, until Montague started to run his mouth.
"Look at them, they're so pathetic." He obnoxiously laughed.
"Look at whom?" I questioned, a bit lost in my thoughts to know what he was even talking about.
"Don't play dumb." He hissed. "As if you haven't been staring at that Weasel since we entered."
"Ugh, honestly Graham." I lazily played with my jar. "Can't we just enjoy the drink without focusing on the only three Gryffindors in the room?"
"You're one to talk." Cassius mumbled.
"Meaning?"
"Graham's right, you've been staring at him." I pinched the bridge of my nose. They've done this little number so many times that I was no longer embarrassed. "What was that kiss about?"
"Cassius!"
"What kiss?" Graham inquired.
"He kissed her."
"Oh my gosh—" I threw my head down to my forearms in desperation.
"Ew!" Kevin gagged dramatically. "Did you let a blood traitor kiss you with that filthy mouth?"
"You did not just say that." My tone held a serious warning as I looked up at our keeper.
"Great, he's staring." Cassius grumbled.
"Frankly, he could use a lesson." My eyes widened at Graham's words; at first I thought he was joking, but then he grabbed his wand with a wicked smirk.
"Don't make a bloody number." I whispered. "We'll get in trouble."
"Y/l/n, I'm starting to think you're not on our side."
"Montague, if you earn us detention—" my words were cut off by another statement of his.
"No one's gonna know if we're sneaky enough." I looked at Bletchley and Warrington for some back up but they both seemed to be on board with Montague's plan. "What about a little... cruci—" before he could finish the word, I kicked his chair, making him fall to the floor.
"What's wrong with you?!" I shouted, kicking his wand away after standing up myself.
"Y/n, calm down." Cassius said.
"He was gonna use the Cruciatus, so maybe no?!"
"Careful, Y/n." By then, Montague had already gotten up; Bletchley had to tug him back for him not to go against me. "If you get along with scum, you're scum."
I didn't fully realise that I had slapped him until I heard a few people gasping; all from sudden, I was very aware that I had attracted unwanted attention.
There was a moment of tense silence between Montague and me, quickly followed by him grabbing my hair and hitting my face against the table, too fast for me to do anything about it.
"OI!" Cassius pulled me away from Montague, my hands covering my most likely broken nose, debating on whether to hold it to stop the nosebleed or not touching it to avoid more pain.
GEORGE'S P. O. V.
"They're talking shit." Katie whispered, squinting her eyes at the Slytherins.
"Of course they're talking shit." I responded.
"I'd love to go there and shove those—" Alicia grumbled, tightening the grip on her glass.
"Don't." They both looked at me expectant and I only shrugged. "Y/n asked me not to cause trouble."
Alicia snorted when my eyes travelled to Y/n and Katie mocked me with a silly grin. "Awww, Alicia, he's in love."
"George Weasley is in love" Alicia faked a gag. "With a Slytherin."
"Oh my— you're two shut up." I felt blush creeping up my neck, though I couldn't help the smile twitching up the corners of my lips.
"I mean," Katie shrugged, sharing a look with our friend. "Could be worse."
"Could be Warrington." Before I could respond to Alicia, a loud noise was heard behind me. "Ooooh your princess just kicked Montague." Our chaser commented; we all turned around to look at the Slytherins. "This is gonna be fun."
"Why do I feel like they're talking about us?" I said with a laugh.
"Did... Did she just say 'cruciatus'?" Katie questioned, a tinge of worry in her voice.
"Damn! Okay, time to go." Alicia whispered, getting up right after Y/n had slapped Montague. Katie and I were already following her to the exit when a thud made us stop in our tracks.
"He did not—" Katie started.
"He did." Alicia replied; she was quick to double check on me, but I was quicker to stalk towards Montague. "George no!"
READER'S P. O. V.
I came to the conclusion that we were already in trouble, so I might as well go for it and get Montague back.
Cassius saw that coming and held me back by my forearms, but Graham was being pushed against the table behind him in the blink of an eye.
It took us all aback the way George had stormed in scene; we stood there frozen for a hot second, until Bletchley realised Montague was trying to shake George off in vain while the Gryffindor threw blows at him whilst tackling him to the table.
"George! Stop!" Alicia yelled, coming to stand by my side, unsure of what to do.
"Get off him!" The keeper was the first one to try and remove George from Graham, whose face was starting to look as bloodied as mine. He did succeed for a split second, giving the Slytherin chaser enough room to get back at George.
I shook Cassius off the moment Montague jumped on George to aid the ginger, but before I could do anything, he was punching Graham again, though now he sported a swollen lip himself, along with a cut on his cheek, probably caused by Graham's rings.
This time, when Bletchley tried to shove him off Montague, he ended up with George's elbow digging into his stomach.
"He's gonna kill him!" Bell exclaimed, genuinely worried about the outcome.
"George!" I called his name, hoping it would have an effect, but the beater was too lost on the fight. "Wait— No!!" I tried to grab Cassius' hand when I saw him reaching for one of the heavy jars, but he was quicker to crash it on George's crown.
He hissed, losing balance instantly; his hands went to the back of his head, releasing Montague from his hold. My teammate took the opportunity to kick him off, but before he could try to punch George again, I reached to them, pulling the ginger away and not so accidentally stomping on my Montague in the process.
Just when everything seemed to have calmed down, I noticed Spinnet had thrown herself to Cassius.
Bell was struggling to tug her friend away, Cassius was being pulled back by a mildly hurt Bletchley, Montague was curled up in a ball on the floor and George and I stayed knelt not far from him while I checked his head.
It was only when Madam Rosmerta appeared with a towering, strong employee who managed to separate Spinnet and Warrington that it came to an end.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Graham tried to use the Cruciatus curse on George, professor." I explained without meeting McGonagall's eyes. "And I stopped him."
"He— he what?!" The Head of Gryffindor yelled horrified.
"Miss Y/l/n, did you send Mister Montague to the hospital wing?" Snape questioned wearily.
"That was me." George replied before I could make anything up. "And Warrington broke a glass on my head."
"Spinnet tried to kill me!" Warrington shouted.
"If I had wanted to kill you, you'd be dead!" Alicia yelled back.
"Don't lie to yourself darling!" Bletchley hissed.
"Don't 'darling' her dickhead, I'll jump on you right here!" Bell spat, leaning over her table.
"Shut up, Bell!"
"ENOUGH!" McGonagall shouted. "Fifty points will be substracted from each of you. Your families will be informed of this, and needless to say you won't make any more trips to Hogsmeade."
"Minerva, I think Weasley has earned himself detention for the rest of the year." Snape commented.
"And so did Mister Montague and Miss Y/l/n." She responded. "Now off to sleep, all of you— except from Weasley and Y/l/n, you two go see Madam Pomfrey— no but's, Weasley."
"Yes professor." George sighed, getting up and following me out of the class and into the corridor. "You okay?" His voice was so soft as he fell into step with me that I had to refrain myself from kissing him.
"Nose's probably broken." I shrugged, stealing a look at his crown. "How's your head?"
"Hurts a bit." He was obviously playing it off, but I didn't say a thing about it. "I'm sorry for that little number."
"Nonsense! As if it was your fault Montague's a douche." I reassured him.
"So... you're not mad at me?"
"I'm only mad at the fact that I didn't get to punch him." I replied with a chuckle triggering a smile on his. "Plus," I chewed on my lower lip, hesitating for a moment before adding, "it was kinda hot."
George let out a shocked snort, his whole face redder than mine while words stumbled incoherently out of his mouth, preventing him from forming a coherent sentence.
"Don't do it again, though."
"Uh- yeah— NO- I mean, no- I-I won't— I don't do this often—" I giggled at his stammering and brushed his pinky with my own. He cleared his throat and took the hint, intertwining his fingers with mines. "You know, technically it was you who caused trouble so..."
"So?"
"Can I still buy you a drink?" He sheepishly requested, his thumb drawing circles on the back of my hand while we reached the hospital wing.
"We're banned from Hogsmeade, though." I reminded him.
"Well, I might know a way of getting there without being noticed."
"I'm in then." I stated. "Only if you promise we'll stay out of trouble."
"Can't promise that." He squeezed my hand and let it go when Madam Pomfrey spotted us. "But I'll do my best."
"I'm sure you will." I tugged on his sleeve and placed a kiss on his cheek before following the healer's directions.
173 notes · View notes
wreckofawriter · 5 years
Text
The Not-So-Perfect Sister
Pairing: Sirius Black x potter!reader
Word Count: 4,442
Warnings: Under aged drinking, mentions of neglect, overall angsty
Summary: James Potters sister who had felt put of place her whole life finally breaks when Lily Evans arrives at her house.
A/n: I really like this one. Kinda angst but sweet. My inbox is open feel free to send in requests! Hope you guys like it too!
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Being a Potter seemed like an easy gig to most people. The big house, nice family, a large amount of money, it definitely seemed like a piece of cake. And if your name is James then yes, yes it was. But if your name was y/n- or as most people called you James' sister -than no, no it wasn't. 
When you were eleven you had walked up to the chair and sat down with your eyes locked on your smiling brother. He was seated between his three best friends and practically glowing with excitement from the gold and red table.
The old hat was placed on your head and you could already the word that would flow from its leathery mouth. But to your surprise along with everyone else's in the large dining hall, not even a second after the hat landed on your y/h/c head it bellowed, "Slytherin!" 
The hall fell silent and your eyes, still on your brother went wide. James' on the other hand narrowed, his lips piercing to a thin line. 
You felt your heart break as your best friend turned away from you in disgust. And at eleven years old you had already been smashed to pieces by the person you loved most. 
Your parents had sent you a letter telling you it was alright to be in a different house but they didn't act like it was. When James joined the quidditch team they had cheered for him and came to as many games as they could. 
When you joined the Slytherin team as a keeper they had dismissed it with a wave of a hand and only came to your games when you happen to be playing Gryffindor. They were always adorned in yellow and red. 
They almost never sent you letters when James received one once a week. They would support James no matter what, but if you slipped up even once they would come down on you in a hail storm of fury.
By third year you stopped coming home over breaks, you would spend Christmas at Hogwarts alone. But summers were unavoidable. You would simply go home and hide in your room, only coming down stairs for meals which you eat in silence as you listened to your parents gush about James' achievements. 
When Sirius joined you in your fourth year, their fifth, your life went from bad to worse.
Sirius was an asshole. He always was and always will be. He was arrogant and stubborn, he was sure he was the best thing in the world and that he had everyone trapped under his finger. And watching him receive more love from your parents than you did made living under the same roof as the boy nearly impossible. 
What made it worse was the fact that he was irritatingly handsome. He was dashing and charming, somehow managing to make you hate him just to avoid feeling something else.  It made you sick that you even had thoughts of him in a positive way whatsoever. But even though you would never admit it, you did.
And now you had to welcome another one of your least favorite people into your life.
You hated Lily Evans. From the minute layed eyes on the girl you could feel a sickening loathing build up in you like a fire. With each overly sweet smile she threw and disgustingly soft laugh she uttered the larger that fire burned. 
It wasn't like she had ever done anything wrong to you. She was always nice when you passed in the hallways, she never picked on you or called you 'James' little sister' a term you had grown to hate. She was always kind to you, even when your brother was being a brat like usual. And that was one of the many reasons you hated her. 
She was perfect. It made you want to hurl. Her fiery red hair and emerald eyes. Her perfect grades and great scores. She was kind, brave, smart and cunning. She had it all. Plus your brother, who wouldn't even spare you a glance, trailed after her like a lost puppy. She was the physical embodiment of everything you hated. 
Of course now she was dating James which meant you had to put up with her bullshit even more than usual. 
You were downstairs making yourself a sandwich, when the doorbell rang. You rolled your eyes and walked to go open it. 
You swung the door open ready to shoo away some girl scouts when you came face with your worst nightmare.
"Hey y/n!" She smiled waving a bit. 
Your mouth dropped and eyes went wide before narrowing to slits and your mouth slamming shut into a scowl. 
You merely growled the word "Nope." Before slamming the door shut straight into her face. 
"Y/n! What the hell?" You turned your mood souring from bad to worse. 
"You deal with you preppy girlfriend James, I dont have the energy for her." You hissed. 
He simply rushed past you his shoulder hitting yours harshly as he passed and opened the door.
"Lily, I am so sorry for my sister is being an asshole again.." 
The rest of the conversation died out as you snatched your sandwich and darted upstairs. You quickly slammed into James room to meet Sirius, who was adorned in only a towel his black hair dripping wet. You ignored the sight and focused on the problem at hand.
"What the hell y/n?!" Sirius snapped, his face flushing. 
"Yeah what the hell!" You responded to worked up to care about his lack of clothing. 
Sirius shot you a confused look, his cheeks now a blazing red.
"Why is Evans here?!" You screeched. 
"Maybe because she's meeting her boyfriend's parents?" Sirius bellowed back, "Now get out!" 
You ran from the room slamming the door behind you and retreating from your safe haven. You stopped in your tracks when you saw your mother frantically attempting to clean your room. 
"Y/n!" She scolded, "Your room is a complete disaster!" 
"What are you doing in here?" You asked voice angry. 
"Lily is going to be sleeping in here so clean this place up!" She yelled motioning to your disaster of a room. 
Your fury strengthened, "I wont clean shit for that bitch." You growled. 
"Y/n!" Your mother gasped in disgust.
You left before she had a chance to say anything more. Your head pounded as you thundered down the steps not bothering to move in the slightest as your brother and his girlfriend ascended upward. You shouldered them roughly out of the way James protests fading in the back of your mind.
You ran for the door, grabbing your purse and shoes from the mudroom before sprinting onto the street. 
It had rained that night so everything was damp, causing your mitch-matched socks thin fabric to grow cold and wet. The scent of wet asphalt and dewy grass filled you helping to calm your nerves as you ran from your inevitable future. 
You knew that eventually you were going to have to go back to that house and deal with your mother and father and brother and his girlfriend and probably his best friend too. But you ignored that fact sitting on a bench to pull on your converse. You didn't bother to tie them. 
You then stood up and began to walk with no destination in mind. You walked for about an hour before you realized how hungry you are. You never got to eat that sandwich and breakfast was a distant memory. 
You quickly found a small coffee shop and walked inside enjoying the strong scent of the beverage it emitted. You ordered before plopping down at your table and staring helplessly out the window. You watched people move back and forth outside of the window feeling slightly like a tiger locked in a zoo behind the thick glass. You stared at the thick purple clouds that bruised the grey sky, ignoring who's eyes they reminded. You were so entranced with the scene in front of you, you didn't even notice that your food was placed in front of you until you turned to see it there, the sandwich slightly cold. 
You sighed, too hungry to discard the food put in front of you. You ate slowly, as if you were unsure if the meal was safe. You then turned your head back to the street to see a dark haired boy smirking back at you. You instantly stood, sprinting for the door. 
The idea of being brought back to that house made you want to hurl the sandwich you had just eaten. So you began to run not bothering to look back, your feet thundered on the wet cement of the sidewalk before you turned down an alley only to yelp when you were greeted by a bored looking Sirius Black. 
"Did you seriously think that you could outrun me." He questioned eyebrows raised.
"I could if you didn't use magic." You scoffed, attempting to shoulder past him and continue to the next street over. You were stopped when he grabbed you shoulder harshly. 
"Why the hell did you run?" He asked almost seeming worried. You quickly brushed off the thought. Sirius Black doesn't worry, much less about Slytherins. 
You hummed pretending to think, "Maybe because I don't want to deal with greasy haired asshole who is going to take me back to my living hell?" 
"Hey!" Sirius protested, clearly offended, "My hair is not greasy!" 
"You can not be serious." You sneered rolling your eyes. 
"I'm always sirius." He smiled back satisfied with his overused and unoriginal pun.
You resisted the urge to smack him. "Why did you come anyways?" 
"Your brother sent me." He shrugged, "plus we both know you don't want to walk all the way back to your house."
"Who said I was going back?" You challenged, eyes narrowing.
Sirius sighed, "You are going back weather you get on my bike yourself or I force you onto it." You glowered at him. 
"If I could you use magic I would wipe your ass all over the street." You threatened. 
"I know." He smiled, "that's why I'm happy you can't." 
"I'm not going." You decided planting your feet and crossing your arms, head held high.
Sirius let out a strenuous sigh clearly annoyed, "Come on." He whined, "Your brother said I had to bring you back." 
You pursered your lips, looking away from the boy. 
He groaned, "Are you fucking with me?" 
"Nope." You responded lips popping on the p. 
"You're really going to make me hex you?" He grumbled. 
You nodded making the boy let out another moan in protest before raising his wand and muttering "Rictusempra."
You immediately burst into giggles "You asshole." You spit out between laughs as a tickling sensation made you lose all other abilities. 
Sirius grabbed you throwing you over his shoulder like you were a doll. 
"I'm gonna kill you." You giggled unable to stop the laughter spurring from your mouth. 
"I'm so threatened." Sirius smirked back before plopping you down on his motorcycle and buckling his helmet on your y/h/c head. 
"Hold onto my waist, I don't want you to die." 
"Really?" You chucked, voice uncharacteristically high. 
"I'm on my way to changing my mind." He sighed sitting down trying to to flush as your arms hugged close to his waist your body shaking with giggles. 
He reversed the spell at the first stoplight you reached and then continued his way back to your house, your chest pressed to his back. When you pulled back up to your house it was growing dark out and you were beginning to question your entire existence. 
You groaned into Sirius leather jacket and banged your head onto his back. 
"Can we not going inside?" You asked hopefully, glancing at the house its windows glowing warmly, the door reminding you of an entrance to hell. 
"You got yourself into this one y/n/n, get yourself out." He shrugged before hopping off the motorcycle and snatching the helmet off your head. 
"Don't call me y/n/n and I didn't get myself into anything you guys are just all assholes." You spoke harshly.
"How was I possibly an asshole?" Sirius exclaimed. 
"Umm how about you hexed me and then forced me back to my house?" 
"I was helping you!" He yelled exasperated. 
"You were not!" You shot back, "You practically kidnapped me!" 
"You're impossible." Sirius scoffed at you before turning on his heel and heading inside. 
You scowled angry all over again before turning to face the house you knew you would have to walk into sooner or later. 
You paced back and forth for a second before biting your lip and walking slowly up your porch steps. You then slowly opened the door and slipped inside. You were greeted by the sound of laughter and the clatter of silverware. 
You poked your head cautiously around the corner to see your family seated for dinner. 
Sirius was serving himself some pasta while your mother talked to Lily and James messed with your dad. 
You felt your heart clench at how right it looked. The perfect son, the head boy and the quidditch star. The friend who needed help and received it, needing a family and getting one. And of course the perfect daughter. With red hair to match her robes and perfect grades. The head girl who would no doubt have an amazing life after school. 
You tried to imagine yourself at the table sitting in the empty seat, your head bent, staring at the food refusing to meet your parents eyes, your green shirt looking odd against the wave of red. The fact was that you didn't belong and never would. So you went upstairs snatched a blanket and a pillow and retreated to your basement. 
You plopped onto the couch and released a breath you didn't realize you were holding. You felt your eyes prick with tears as the image of the perfect family upstairs burned in your eyelids and you wanted to scream. 
You slammed your hands on to your closed eyelids, enjoying the pressure they provided, keeping tears behind them. Because the truth was as much as you hated your family you wanted nothing more than to be apart of it. You had spent your whole life attempting to get noticed, to simply be acknowledged as half the person they saw James as. But year after year you were left more and more broken. And now your parents fell in love with a girl they had known for only one night. It made you sick. Your hatred for Lily growing into a nightmarish beast. 
Your eyes popped open when you heard someone descending the stairs. You turned to see your brother leaning against the railing arms crossed eyebrows furrowed. 
"What do you want James?" You scoffed sitting up on your elbows. 
"What do I want?" James hissed, "I want to know why my sister is such a selfish prat." 
You sat all the way up glaring at your brother, "I'm the selfish one?" You glowered in disbelief. 
"Yeah, yeah you are." James spat. 
You stood walking to meet your brother, "How in bloody hell was I being selfish?!" You growled. 
"How about slamming the door in Lily's face, or I don't know swearing at mom or maybe calling my girlfriend a bitch before running off to fairyland?!"James was yelling now his voice echoing off the small room."Your damned lucky Sirius offered to find you because I'm done with it!"
You shook your head, "Sirius said you sent him to get me. He was lying?" You asked softly, You silently wished him to say that he wanted you back, that he had sent him, that he had wanted you here.
"Of course I didn't!" James shouted "Not everything is about you!"
You felt your heart crumpled. He hadn't wanted you back. Hell, he would have been happier if you had stayed gone. You willed yourself not to cry, so instead you laughed, a crazy demonic sound ripping from your throat and escaping your lips, "Your right James!" You screeched, "Not everything is about me!" Your fire full smile broke into a sneer, "It's all about you." 
James looked taken aback for a second guilt flashing momentarily into his dark eyes before being replaced with anger. 
"It's all about you. You and your perfect grades and your perfect friends." You could feel tears pricking at your eyes. "You and your quidditch bullshit, and your god damn bright fucking future!" You spat the words like venom from your mouth, "You and your bitchy girlfriend who's going to make the perfect little daughter in law!" You were now yelling your voice feeling raw as tears dripped off your chin. 
"Stop calling her a bitch!" James screamed back. 
Just then the door opened and Lily, Sirius and your parents came hurling down the stairs. 
"What in bloody hell is going on!" Sirus shouted but you ignored him. 
"I'm so sorry for calling shit as it is, your girlfriend is a bitch. B-I-T-C-H. BITCH!"  You wailed taking a step forward, you were now looking directly into your brothers eyes, just barley below him, less than a foot away. 
You saw his eyes burn, anger filling them, turning their dark brown pigment to black. 
And then he did something you would never imagine him to do in his life. 
James raised his hand and with one swift movement slapped you clean across the cheek
You heard a series or gasps and yells fall around you, your ears ringing slightly. You could feel where his hand had struck your skin, it was hot and thumping, a dull sting finding its home there. 
You slowly turned your head back to meet your brothers eyes which were now wide with surprise and guilt. 
You slowly removed the hand that had instinctively risen to your cheek and stared hurt and broken in front of your brother who's mouth had dropped open. 
"Y/n, oh my God I didn't-" 
"Rot in hell Potter." You spat your voice deep and dark. And with that you sprinted up the stairs. 
As you began to move the world resumed and everyone else began to take action as well.
You saw James stumble backwards Lily beginning to go to him but Sirius beating her to it and reaching the boy himself. You then heard him yell something you were too delirious to understand before a thud was heard followed closely by another shriek. You shouldered past your parents as you accented the stairs, the fact that they didn't even spare you a glance stung more than a slap ever could. 
For the second time that day you sprinted out onto the street, the crisp air hitting your hot face in a refreshing blow. You stumbled into the night ignoring your bare feet and chilled arms. You had no destination in mind as you sprinted down the sidewalk, you only had a location to get as far as possible from. You wished you had been thinking enough to grab your purse, you could have gone to a bus stop and left to Merlin knows where. 
You made it four blocks before one of your feet caught behind your heel and you were flung to the ground by the ever cruel gravity. 
Your hands hit the damp cement first followed directly by your chin causing you to bite roughly down on your lip. 
You didn't even bother to move debating weather living was even worth it. You could taste the blood in your mouth and feel it seeping from your hands as you lay unmoving under the buzzing streetlamp. 
You were pretty sure you would have lay on that sidewalk, your body shaking with sobs, blood slowly filling your mouth until you died if a strong pair of arms hadn't swept you up. 
You instinctively buried your head into the familiar musky scent as Sirius pulled you close to him. 
"Hey, hey you're okay." He mumbled quietly into your hair, smoothing it clumsily down as he pulled your head into his chest. "You're okay, I've got you." 
You sobbed uncontrollably into Sirius as he mumbled sweet nothings into your ear and held you close to him. 
"I-im sorry." You choked out eventually,  pulling away from the boy slightly. 
"What on earth are you sorry for love?" Sirius chuckled softly pushing the damp hair from your face. 
"I think I got your jacket wet." You muttered a soft smile darting onto your lips. 
Sirius let out a soft laugh, "You are ridiculous." His smile disappeared when he saw your lip.
"I'm okay." You muttered wiping the blood from you lips with a wince. 
"No your not." Sirius sighed quietly. 
He watched your face deflate and he realized that was probably the first time that someone hadn't let you lie to them. Hadn't let you hide behind the thick walls you had built. He called your bluff and it was unfamiliar and strange to you. 
"Why did you lie?" You asked quietly.
"About what?" The boy questioned, confused.
"James didn't send you. He told me."
Sirius flushed before shaking his head he definitely needed to change the subject, "James is an idiot." 
"He's your friend." You shrugged. 
"Yeah well I don't know if that's true anymore." 
You knotted your eyebrows, "Why's that?" 
Sirius sighed "I knocked him out." 
Your mouth dropped.
"If it was anyone else that hit you I would have killed them on the spot." He murmured.
You smiled slightly torn at the idea of your brother getting knocked out by his best friend. 
Sirius decided that you needed something desperately, the same thing he had needed when he left home. 
"Let's get you a drink." 
Your eyes rose to meet his a bit uncertain, before you nodded, "Please."
Sirius smiled as he pulled you to his motorcycle, lazily tucking the helmet onto your head and buckling it for you, his face dancing red at the proximity of your soft pink lips.
You walked into the bar Sirius at your arm. The two of you sat on the stools and Sirius used a bit of magic to order your drinks. 
He handed you a shot of vodka setting one in front of himself. 
You glanced down at the small glass then back up at Sirius before shrugging and raising swiftly to your lips. 
Sirius did the same laughing brightly when he saw your face scrunched in discomfort. 
"That was disgusting!" You coughed, laughing a bit, "Get me another one!" 
Sirius burst into laughter once again ordering you both another round, "This is the last one though, I don't want to have to take you home drunk." He said eyebrows raised. 
You smiled back, downing the second shot a bit more easily than the last, enjoying the warmth that twirled down your throat to your stomach. 
Sirius and you left, you a bit tipsy, him seemingly sober. 
"Let's get you home." He muttered smiling about at your beaten and battered form. 
Suddenly you broke free of him and stumbled backwards, catching yourself on the side of the building. 
"I don't want to go home." You pouted. 
"Sorry Y/n we have got to go back." Sirius sighed. 
"I'M NOT GOING BACK!" You yelled harshly, anger flowing through you. 
"Y/n/n come on it's not that bad, let's head back." Sirius sighed sympathetically. 
"I know your parents were shit Sirius, but at least they were terrible people!" You yelled. 
Sirius rose both eyebrows, "What?"
"Your parents were terrible people right?" You slurred a bit.
Sirius nodded.
"And they hated you because you weren't like them, you weren't s-somebody who would kill a-and hurt, so they hated you for being different. For being a good person." You rambled tears slowly falling from your cheeks.
"Y/n/n we seriously need to get you home." Sirius grumbled worriedly. 
"You're not listening to me!" You screeched taking a step back. 
Sirius stood unsure of what to do.
"My parents hate me for the same reason, because I'm different and I'm not like them." Your voice breaking mid sentence stabbing Sirius in the chest. 
"And because they are 'good people' and they are nice and kind and heros being different than them means I'm a terrible person." Tears now rolled coolly down your check leaving silver streaks in their wake. 
Sirius' face crumbled, "No, no, no. Y/n your not a terrible person, your a great person." He gushed rushing forward to capture you in his embrace. 
"Then why do they hate me?" You asked voice small and weak. 
"They don't hate you y/n. They love you." He mumbled softly one hand wrapping around your waist while the other gripped your head softly pulling you into him. 
You shook your head slowly afraid if you spoke anymore that your eyes would flood with tears once again. 
"Hey." Sirius murmured, causing your big y/e/c eyes to look up at him. "They love you, James loves you" 
You looked away from his stormy grey eyes tired of hearing lies. 
"Hey." He repeated bring your attention back to the storms resting behind his head. "I love you." 
His whisper resonated through the chilled air, like the final note of an orchestra, the strings still not unmoving. You stared at him in wonder. Then your stood on your toes and grabbed the back of his neck slowly pulling him toward you. 
Your lips connected in a sweet, salty kiss. The taste of blood and alcohol lingering between you. You felt his slightly chapped lips moved smoothly against yours making your heart flutter as your hand played with his dark locks, his own finding your waist and pulling you towards him. 
You pulled away softly gasping lightly for air as your noses brushed lightly. Sirius' own heavy breaths tickling your face as your foreheads leaned together. 
"I-I t-think I love you too Sirius." You fumbled lightly with your words. 
He simply responded by reconnecting your lips in a desperate kiss, savoring the metallic taste of blood mixed with the sharpness of alcohol. You tasted like a sin, his tongue dancing across your lips before they opened allowing it to slip inside. 
When you finally pulled away for the second time. You looked into his glassy storm filled eyes brushing his cheek gently with your thumb. 
"I need you." You whispered quietly into the night. And for the first time in a long time you felt loved.
Part 2
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6K notes · View notes
dtrhwithalex · 3 years
Text
TV | Loki (103)
103: LAMENTIS
D: KATE HERRON. W: BISHA K. ALI. Original Air Date: 23 June 2021.
Non-spoiler-free recap and review of the third episode of LOKI, which airs every Wednesday on Disney+.
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RECAP
We open on the Variant and Hunter C-20 in a bar, having drinks. It quickly becomes clear that this is a memory the Variant is manipulating in order to extract information from C-20 about where the Time Keepers are located and how to get to them.
Picking up from last weeks episode, we see that the time window the Variant has opened, leads to the TVA. The Variant makes her way to the golden elevators leading to the Time Keepers and, confronted by Minutemen finds out that her magical powers are useless here, so she sticks to physical combat and using the TVA's disintegration staffs to fight the Minutemen.
Having followed the Variant, Loki finds himself back at the TVA as well. Taking his knives from Hunter B-15's locker, he goes after the Variant. Their fight in front of the elevator is interrupted by Ravonna Renslayer showing up, and in order to escape, Loki grabs the Variant's TemPad and transports them out of the TVA.
The escape lands them on the moon Lamentis-1 in 2077, during one of the worst apocalyptic events in recorded time. Unable to escape this place and return to the TVA because the TemPad has run out of charge, Loki and the Variant find themselves stranded. Albeit reluctantly and with a lot of argument, Loki and the Variant -- who introduces herself eventually as Sylvie -- decide to team up and find something with a big enough power source to recharge the TemPad which Loki has magic'd away out of Sylvie's reach.
Coming upon an old woman in a largely abandoned place, they learn that there exists an escape pod -- the Ark -- which a train nearby is taking people to. Smuggling themselves onto the train through disguise and manipulation, Loki and Sylvie head to the Ark. They exchange a few details about what kind of Variants they are and then decide on a momentary truce to get them both out of this apocalypse. However, while Sylvie rests, Loki gets drunk and engages the other passengers in a sing-along of a Lamentian folk-song (or maybe Asgardian?). Having shed his guard disguise, the guards eventually catch on, and after a brief fight, Loki is thrown out of the train. Sylvie follows because her only hope of getting off the planet is the TemPad in Loki's possession -- which, it turns out, just broke when Loki was thrown off the train.
Deciding their only chance at escape is highjacking the Ark, Loki and Sylvie make their way to the train's destination and find the city full of guards trying to keep more people from getting to the Ark. Fighting their way across the city and toward the Ark's launch pad, Loki and Sylvie, for the first time, really fight together. However, before they come near the Ark, the planet above is torn apart and they watch as large meteoric pieces destroy the Ark and with it their hope of escape.
FAVOURITE MOMENTS
All the banter scenes, to be honest. There was so much fun dialogue in this episode. The whole tech-savy bit, what makes a plan a plan, Loki conjuring a feather and parchment to take notes sarcastically -- just so good.
Overall favourite has got to be their conversation about love on the train though. I absolutely love this show for the bit about what kind of lovers Loki had.
Sylvie: How about you? You're a prince. Must have been would-be-princesses...or perhaps, another prince. Loki: A bit of both.
We have a male and a female Loki (although I'm still suspicious about Sylvie and still not entirely sure about the whole two actors playing the same genderfluid character thing) and now we have this magnificent dialogue -- finally I get my canonically bi/pan genderfluid God of Mischief in the MCU! Huzzaaaah!!!!
And coming back to the love thing, I also absolutely adore Loki's analogy he comes up with while drunk off his ass: "Love is a dagger. It's a weapon to be wielded far away or up close. You can see yourself in it. It's beautiful. Until it makes you bleed. But ultimately, when you reach for it... *makes the dagger disappear*". I absolutely love it. I love this Loki so much. Finally, he is the chaotic, mischievous idiot I love so much.
FAVOURITE CHARACTER(S)
Still very much Loki, obviously. I love him more the longer this show goes on. I love this Loki so much. He is so much fun. And Tom Hiddleston is marvellous.
I do really like Sylvie so far, too. Her banter with Loki is fantastic, and I enjoy their dynamic a lot. But I wanna know more about her, I can't wait to find out more of who she is, exactly.
I also very much liked the old woman in the abandoned town who blasts both their asses away. You go, lady. You show them.
QUESTIONS, CURIOSITIES
Uhm? The whole "all TVA agents are Variants" reveal?? That opens up so many doors. Cannot wait to see that explored. I mean, that is huge??
Again, who exactly is Sylvie. I've seen some theories floating around that she isn't a Loki but rather Enchantress, but I am not very well versed in Marvel Comics knowledge, so I don't actually know who that is or what that means, and I won't google it because I like finding out stuff as it happens. But...very curious.
OVERALL IMPRESSION
I really liked this episode, it was great fun. I loved the banter, I loved the character dynamics. I did find myself missing Mobius a lot, though. I really like him. One of my favourite things in this episode was the sequence at the end with Loki and Sylvie fighting their way to the Ark. I love the visuals of that city a lot. And the camera movements and the specific shots in that whole sequence was absolutely fantastic. It honestly felt very much like a video game to me, and I kept thinking that I really would love to play this sequence in a game. Absolutely brilliantly shot. Also fantastic opening song choice. Overall, yeah, great episode, once again. Can't wait to see where next week takes us.
[still image taken from the marvel homepage]
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Text
Title: An Angel's Lullaby
Pairing: DeanCas, Destiel
Rating: Explicit
Words: 93,662
Status: Complete
Ao3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7984306/chapters/18268822
Chapter One - The Man with the Ocean Eyes
"Excuse me," a gravelly voice suddenly fills the room and Dean's pen nearly goes flying, heart pumping. It's been at least two days since anyone's even walked through those doors and being alone with his thoughts isn't exactly a new thing but for that long, it gets to be a surprise when someone says something. He keeps it under control though, doesn't look up except a quick glance at a nice pair of khakis and a deep purple jumper.
He goes back to scribbling on the piece of paper where he's supposed to be filling out a request for another truck to come and take away a few boxes of older books, bring them to a charity or a foster house somewhere. 
"What can I help you with," he says, surprised that his own voice is bored considering his heart is pounding out a Jamaican beat and he's pretty sure he almost pissed his pants.
"I was just wondering if there are any books that you might recommend? I'm in the mood for reading, but not really sure what to look for," the man speaks at a low volume, as if there's anyone here to be disturbed.
Dean's intrigue is piqued though, so he pauses his doodles, knits his eyebrows together and looks up.
His eyes trace up the outline of his jumper, which wraps nicely around a narrow waist and a great chest, then leads into a white collared shirt, tan neck, a scruffy jaw that can't decide between chiseled and soft, some full lips that look like they might be chapped bit also look incredibly kissable, a straight-edge nose, and finally, two unfathomable blue eyes, shining bright as the Caribbean ocean that Dean is entirely too sure they are made of. His hair is a messy looking, bed-head-esque mop of dark chocolate brown and he smiles down at Dean as if he isn't the most attractive person Dean's ever encountered.
He's actually blown away by the fact that this man is inside a nearly failing library right now instead of out modeling a white pinstripe suit and blue tie from Men's Warehouse somewhere.
This time, Dean thinks he may actually piss his pants, but he refrains from any sort of urination onto cloth, as a mind-blowingly handsome man with some captivating blue eyes that seem to have stolen the sea is standing in front of his desk, asking about books.
He also refrains from exhibiting all of these passing thoughts on his face, because it feels like it's been a few minutes since he asked the question and the guy's probably starting to think Dean's some weirdo who can't speak under pressure.
"Library's a dying business, sir," he sits back in his chair and sets the pen down slowly. "Yeah, all the kids got their...electronic readers and...there are bookstores that sell books. Never out of stock of a specific book. Sometimes we get that; not having a specific book because all the copies got checked out...or we used to have that..."
The man stares down at him with such focus and intent, nodding along and knitting his brows together. Who is this guy?
"Nah, I mean, it's amazing that...someone wants a book so badly and loves it so much that they gotta buy it and have it forever," Dean continues, then leans forward again, grabbing a book to his left and wiggling it in the air. "Not so awesome for the library."
"That's so...intriguing...that you respect those other industries so much..." He replies, squinting, head tilting in a puppy dog manner.
Dean chuckles, setting the book down. Stares at the black cover as his smile slowly fades.
"Not much else I can do," he shrugs, shuffling through several books to find the one with the light yellow-beige cover, red outline and text reading Oliver Twist glaring up at him, and a small, square, painted picture of a boy in a hat playing at the edge of a wood sitting just above the title. "Once these places shut down, I'll inevitably drift into a bookstore, sign up to be a clerk or a stocker. 'Cause I mean," he flips the book over and opens the back page. Pulls out the name card from the pocket glued to the inside of the cover and examines it. "Yeah, a book ain't been checked out from here in three months."
He laughs and throws the book to his right, watches it skid across the table and come to a stop beside the red canvas hardcover with shiny blue letters indenting the words Of Mice and Men.
"Wow...so...I mean, how do you guys stay in business?" The guy is leaning ever forward, hands gripping the edge of the desk and arms stick straight as he balances himself over the books.
Dean smirks up at him.
"Ah," he scrubs at the back of his neck, cheeks hot, and looks away into the corner of the main entrance. "Well, charities? Mostly...and, uh, you know, school fundraisers, donations from the coffee shop down the street." He squints up at the giant skylight making up about ninety percent of the roof, thinking. "Oh, uh...this one guy. Some sorta bookwrite. Author of...damn, what are those things called...gaaahh...oh! An Angel's Lullaby!" Recognition passes over the man's face in clear abundance. "Guy's name, I'm still drawin' a blank on--"
"Chuck Shurley," the guy cuts him off but Dean is impressed. It's such an obscure book but he obviously knows it well.
"Yeah!" He points at the guy. "Yeah, yeah. You know him? I mean, his work?"
"Yeah...too well...why?"
"Ah, no...I'm just...just surprised, you know? Not a real popular selection," Dean thinks for a moment and it falls silent once more. Then: "You met him? He did a book signing here once. Not many people came, but..."
"Oh, yeah I've met him..." He doesn't elaborate, but Dean suspects it's because he just explained it for the guy, and it seems like it's making him a little uncomfortable anyway.
"Uh," he looks for something that might change the subject. "Well, to answer your first question..." He opens his mouth to continue but ends up chuckling and shaking his head. "Look, man, there's just too many books and not enough time. I've been coming to this library my entire life, probably read every single book by now. I mean, I can point you to some of my favourites, I guess, but really the only one off the top of my head and without me getting up is An Angel's Lullaby."
"Are you religious?" He asks suddenly and Dean's bewildered by the inquiry until he realises how obsessed he must seem with the book.
"Oh..." He breathes out a laugh. "Nah, that's...I'm an atheist, actually. I'm just...really into angels. Religions and...gods and deities are my thing. To be honest, I could probably list thirty Christian angels off the top of my head."
"Really," he seems impressed and Dean blushes harder. "How about...the three main archangels and...the Angel of Thursday."
Specific...and strange. But okay, he'll play along. For the sake of flirting.
"Okay...well there's Michael, the eldest son of God who was set to the task of casting Lucifer, second oldest, into hell because he claimed he could not love humanity as he loved his father. Gabriel, protector of humanity, present at the birth of Jesus Christ and the deliverer of the Holy news. And then...actually, my favourite, if I'm honest-" he looks up and watches the man's lips part, a blush crawling up his neck too, and he briefly wonders why, "-Castiel. Angel of Thursday, keeper of prayers said on that day." He smirks for a second before adding, "Always heard he was a real looker."
The man seems flustered, tugging at his jumper, pulling the v-neck away from his chest and adjusting his collar.
"Me too," he chokes out and Dean thinks it's entirely unfair how cute this man looks with a scarlet flush painting his cheeks and his hands not able to find a resting placing.
"I..." Dean starts, gazing down at his hand fiddling with the edge of a hardcover, nail scraping against the canvas. "I think I remember a few more books. Not real sure what you would like, but, uh..." He tears a corner off of the paper he was drawing on and scribbles down the titles and respective authors, then continues as he hands the list to the man. "Most of 'em are...classics...Little Women, Gone With the Wind, A Wrinkle in Time, Wuthering Heights...the original and best...version of Alice's Adventures in Wonderland."
The man smiles down at the list and then down at Dean, and Dean's heart leaps into his throat.
"Thank you," he says quietly and Dean's eyes flit down, small smile of modest pride lifting his lips.
"Don't mention it," he whispers back, gaze meeting the man's once more. Then he leans forward and takes up the pen again, waggling it between two fingers. He leans on his bent arm and says, "So, you plannin' on checkin' anything out today, sir?"
And, without blinking or missing a beat, the man replies with the most unexpected answer, letting the words drip from his lips like fuckin' honey when he replies, "Just you."
Dean is astonished at this guy's guts, but a brazen vocabulary and a cocky attitude is exactly the kind of thing that gets him going.
He opens his mouth in a shocked kind of smile, and shakes his head as if he's offended at the nerve of those words.
"I...don't even know your name," Dean says slowly, eyes twitching from the man's leg to his chest to his mouth to his eyes. When they meet, the man tilts his head with another squint, this one more challenging than curious. Amazing how he can squint in the same manner with just the slightest differences and change the entire composure of the movement.
But Dean doesn't let himself get too distracted by this ability, and soon encounters a moment of realisation.
The blushing, fidgeting, stumbling words when he talked about Castiel...
"Your name is Castiel," he whispers, astounded. "And you have three brothers." Then more realisation. "And you haven't met Chuck Shurley, you used to live with him."
Castiel pushes his lips out and looks down, scratches through the stubble on the edge of his jaw, nods.
"And I assume," Castiel says, squinting at the wooden triangle at the corner of Dean's desk and smiling, then continuing, "your name is Dean Winchester and you work as a librarian."
"Hey, I am not...a librarian," he protests playfully, grin growing on his teeth. "I am...a book obsessed...checker...outer."
Castiel laughs and Dean gives him a look for a moment before bursting out into his own fit of laughter at how utterly ridiculous that title sounds.
"I'm guessing that sounded better in your head?"
"It did," Dean nods and chucks the pen at one of the books, sitting back in his chair again and kicking his legs up onto his desk. He cranes his neck and reaches behind him, grips the back of another rolling chair, and rolls it over so it's facing him. Pats the seat and jerks his head. "Come on around." Castiel looks uncertain, sliding the torn paper into his pocket and pursing his lips, slight squint of his eyes. Dean chuckles. "Come on. I don't bite."
"Isn't that against the rules or something?" Castiel asks as he makes his way around the right side of the desk and through the opening in the side, in spite of his words.
"'Eah, mostly," Dean shrugs and pushes his lips out, then smiles. "But no one else is around, don't have any cameras, and-" he holds out a hand, "-I'm a rebel."
Castiel laughs wholeheartedly at this, grin huge and gummy - the most enchanting thing Dean's ever seen - and his head tilted back, crinkles at the corners of his eyes. Dean notices a slight dimple in his left cheek and stores that information in the back of his mind for later, when he's having a rough day.
"What," he says, though he knows Castiel is laughing at his insanely stupid joking around.
"Nothing, you're just...really...interesting--"
"Interesting meaning...lame?" He squints and adds, "Dumbass, weirdo, bad amusement--"
"Hey, I genuinely laughed at that," Castiel points a finger at him, not hiding his grin.
Dean shakes his head, looks away, licks his lips. Things settle for a moment.
Dean plays with the hem of his black t-shirt, scratches his nails over the faded denim of his jeans, examines the familiar dark splotch of oil on the knee. He would dress nicer for work, but the last time anyone even walked through the doors was 48 hours ago, and he wasn't expecting any company today, either.
"Can't believe I'm flirting with the son of my favourite author," he mutters, reaching back over the back of his chair to snatch up another pen.
Castiel scoffs playfully, and Dean catches the smirk on his face when he turns back around.
"You call that flirting," Castiel quips, unbuttoning the wrists if his collared shirt and rolling the sleeves of both the shirt and jumper up.
Dean lets his brows drop and pushes his lips out in confusion. "Well...yeah..." Dean watches Castiel stifle a smile and glance down and away. "Why, what do you call it."
Castiel peeks up through mischievous, dark lashes and swimming eyes, lips parting in a secretive smirk.
"Honestly?" He starts, shifting in his seat and sitting back, settling his hands together in his lap. "A sad but sweet attempt to impress me."
"Oh, is that so?"
Castiel nods, grin growing across his cheeks. 
"And what would you consider flirting, mr. big-shot-I-know-exactly-how-to-woo-the-ladies?"
"Well, first of all," Castiel leans forward, rests an elbow against his knee, uses the armrest to balance himself, and points at Dean with raised brows, as if he's about to teach a lesson. "Sir. There's a difference between being laid back and being downright cocky. And you-" the corner of his lips twitches up very briefly, and his cyan blue eyes turn dark "-are neither."
"So what, exactly," Dean whispers, fingers a bit too loosely woven around the pen, teeth digging into his lip. "Do you propose I do about it?"
Castiel's gummy smile is printed into his teeth again and he shrugs a shoulder, bringing his lips down in an impressed bow.
"Well, that's the first step. Ask what you are instead of asking what to change. When you know, even if it's not true, even if it's only what another person sees, you can accept it."
Dean squints, leaning further back into his chair, pressing his index finger into the ballpoint, black ink tip of the pen and the other to the textured top of the cap wrapped around the end, pushing his tongue into his cheek and pursing his lips.
"Alright, fine. What am I?" Dean imposes, then grips the tip of the pen between his thumb and finger and adds, "To you. Smartass."
This earns him a short chuckle and an approving nod.
"Well...I think...you're reserved. You act like you're king shit and like you know exactly who you are, like you don't give two flying fucks about where you're headed in life, or maybe like you've already accepted it. You act comfortable with yourself, but what nerd is ever actually satisfied with their existence?" He's leaning ever-forward and Dean's cocksure smile is ever-fading, eyes becoming wide with marvel as the man-who-knows-too-much continues. "I think you're unsure. You're scared and you...you hide things that you think no one cares about. You're upset and self-deprecating. Eyes of a guilty conscience."
Dean drops his gaze, first to the floor, then to the pen, still grasped tightly by his fingers which have fallen into his lap and which fiddle vapidly with the object, nail scraping at the black polycarbonate and over the white indents that spell out the company name.
"But," Castiel starts up again, voice soft and lilting. Dean swallows hard. "I think you have a lot to give. I think you have...maybe too much to give. Too much forgiveness, too much love, too much doubt, too much strength and care. I think you are the embodiment of generosity, but you don't take what you really need in return. And I think that can get dangerous, but I also think that nothing is ever really too much." Dean's eyes flit back up in time to catch Castiel's angling downward, past Dean's chair, through the desk, through the floor, staring wistfully at something intangible. "People are greedy. And you're too willing to give."
Dean searches the man's face for any sign that this is all some sort of joke, that he's being filmed or some shit, but all he finds is truth and wisdom and knowledge, and possibly a glimmer, just a glimpse in those blue eyes, of a bittersweet past, an origin for where these words came from.
"I was right!" He exclaims as he sits back in the chair, shoulders trembling with a silent laugh. "You like to cover up your pain with gay jokes and stupid references."
"Now, that, I can't deny," Dean nods and everything falls silent. He rocks his chair gently, side to side, left to right, fingers still fidgeting with the tips of the pen, his head tilted in thought. Castiel's mouth is pulled up into a ginger smile, his eyes faraway and swimming in themselves, in the past, in glistening memories and soft-edged, slow-motion, sunny-fielded dreams. "What about you?" He asks suddenly, voice crackling and ripping through the still air as a quiet question. Castiel eyes don't move but his smile grows slightly. "I mean...what do you think of yourself."
"Not much," he replies, head lolling to the side and back, eyes catching on the impotent, pathetic little piles of books scattered about Dean's desk. "I like books. Reading. Writing. Time-consuming, arbitrary activities which include my eyes scanning words on a piece of pressed wood?" He furrows his brows and Dean throws his head back in a genuine, full laughter that he hasn't experienced in a long time.
"I can tell you write. What do you write about? Like, schmoopy romance novels? Sci-fi thrillers? Action adventure futurism?"
"And I can tell you do a lot of librarian...ing..." Castiel squints and presses his lips together in the contrite afterthought but continues, nevertheless. "I write what my dad would call 'a bunch of gay shit'." Dean cocks a brow. "Get your head out of the gutter, it's not as sexy as it sounds. For the most part. Bottom line, I'm gay, I hang out with gay people, and I wanted to dedicate my life to writing about it, about that experience. But my dad has never approved much."
"You don't say."
"Yeah...he's...more into theology. I think the one book he's ever written that really ventures into the realm of fiction, or at least dips it's toes past the line, is An Angel's Lullaby."
"Which parts are real?" Dean scratches the pen across the bumpy plastic chair arm and watches the black ink run in splotches over the grey of the polyvinyl.
"Our names, obviously," Castiel shifts again, bringing his leg down from across his knee and kicking off from the floor so he spins in a circle. Dean watches with a strangely adoring smile. "It's funny that that's the part most people think is fiction. But, no. Mom was a Jesus nut and Dad is too passive to care, so we ended up with angelic names and weird looks from sane people. The only parts that aren't completely true are the things like our address, the colours they painted our rooms, some of the dialogue that he added or got rid of in order to make the conversations more interesting or sensible - you know, just these really inane things..."
He trails off and he's staring at Dean with expectant brows, and Dean realises he's staring too, realises Castiel probably stopped because it's weird how attentive he is.
"Sorry. You're fun to listen to."
Castiel's cheeks paint themselves a thick fuchsia and his eyes drop to his empty palms resting uselessly in his lap, the lines becoming suddenly very interesting. Then they catch on his watch and widen and his head whips up.
"Well, if I'm so interesting to listen to," he leans forward, snatches the pen from Dean's hand, then takes the other hand and begins a careful scrawl across the back of it as he continues, "why don't you call me. And we can figure out a time to meet at the-" he recaps the pen and gently replaces it in Dean's hand "-coffee place down the street. But, right now, I have to go. College...and shit. Studying for a major in English takes a lot of time away from socialising."
"Sorry to keep you, I didn't--"
"No no no! It was..." His blush deepens and he stands, head down. "It was incredible to meet you. I really hope I can see you again."
"O-Of course," Dean's voice comes out stammered and soft, crackling with hope and fear and adoration, and Castiel smiles broadly.
"Great," he whispers back, then he's rushing around the side of the desk and out the front door and Dean is left to wonder if the entire exchange was even real or if his lonely, empty mind is just playing games. 
When he looks at the neat, black little numbers on his hand, he realises just how real right now is.
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lachlantrash · 5 years
Text
I'm your lock screen?"
"Wanna do a livestream with me, guys?" Preston says, walking into his living room where you and Lachlan are laying down together, watching reruns of Friends on the tv.
"I'm down, I'm so bored right now." You laugh, sitting up so you're not laying on Lachlan's chest anymore.
"What, cuddling with me is getting old?" Lachlan laughs, making you roll your eyes. "I'm kidding, and sure Preston just give me a second to find a shirt." He adds, getting off the couch.
"I'm sure the fans would rather have you shirtless, it's fine man." Preston laughs, taking the seat where Lachlan was previously sitting and putting his laptop on the coffee table.
"They probably would enjoy the view babe!" You call as Lachlan ignores both you and Preston, walking down the hall to the guest bedroom. "We can get started without him." You suggest to Preston, not wanting to fall into an uncomfortable silence.
"That's a good idea." He agrees, turning his laptop on and getting a youtube livestream going. "Hey guys, Preston here and as we all know, the Australian lovebirds Lachlan and (Y/N) are staying here in Texas with me for a week, and we decided to do a livestream for just you guys. Lachlan had to go do something really quick, but (Y/N)'s here right now." Preston says, smile on his face as he interacts with his fanbase.
"Hey guys, all Lachlan's doing is putting a shirt on... Even though Preston and I both think you guys would appreciate it more if he didn't." You say, scooting closer to Preston so you're in frame. "Babe, people in the comments think you should come back shirtless!" You shout to Lachlan, hoping he can hear you. He steps out of the room a second later, a blue t-shirt already on. "Awe guys, he didn't listen. Don't worry, one day I'll show you shirtless Lachlan." You promise as Lachlan sits beside you, wrapping one arm over your shoulder.
"You would think my girlfriend wouldn't want hundreds of people seeing me shirtless." Lachlan says, waving to the camera.
"I mean, they'd only get to see the upper half...Everything below that is mine." You hum, making Preston laugh before covering his mouth.
"(Y/N)! Keep it pg, this is live on my channel." He scolds, trying to hold back his laugh.
"We've never really been a pg couple Preston, but for you we'll try." Lachlan promises on your behalf. "Let's read some comments, yeah? See what they want."
"Well we're going to ignore all of the ones telling you two to kiss and makeout, it's not really gonna happen on my channel... If you guys want that I know that Rob has a video where if you look in the background, you can see these two idiots making out." Preston laughs.
"That was before the internet knew we were together, Rob exposed us." You sigh. "Actually, all of you exposed us, your coffee house video make things pretty obvious Preston." You say, jokingly accusing him.
"Uh, comments... Preston, be honest. How often do Lachy and (Y/N) fight?" Preston reads, quick to change the subject. "Honestly, they don't really fight. Like okay, obviously they've fought and Lachlan told me all the fun details about it, but they don't fight often at all. Like there's so many things that (Y/N) could get pissed at Lachlan for doing but she just... Doesn't. Maybe they do fight a lot and just hide it well, I don't know." Preston shrugs.
"I do a lot of things that could piss her off? What, is she just perfect and never does anything wrong?" Lachlan laughs.
"Well yeah, she's a keeper, there's no way you're staying pissed at her long if she ever even pisses you off. You're like, a lovesick puppy with her dude. Guys, none of you even know what kind of texts I get about this girl right here, or snaps I get of her where he's just gushing at how magnificent she is and how in love he is. It's kinda sickingly cute." Preston laughs. You look at Lachlan, a giggle escaping your mouth at the blush appearing on his skin.
"Awe, babe." You laugh, placing a kiss on one of his blushing cheeks. "Don't worry, all my friends get gushy snaps and texts about you too." You say, a smile on your face as you start scanning the comments. "Is Preston still single?" You read, a laugh as you look over at Preston.
"Of course I am, I mean I'm not going to settle for a relationship if it's not comparable to (Y/S/N). Maybe I'll never find love." He sighs dramatically.
"There will never be a relationship comparable to (Y/N) and I, Mitch and Jess are trying but they'll never succeed." Lachlan says, pulling you onto his lap so he can rest his head on your shoulder, scooting over to where you were so the camera can still see you guys.
"Oh my god Lachlan, shut up! Mitch and Jess are adorable, don't even say they're not comparable to us." You scold, quickly shutting down Lachlan's comment.
"It was a joke, calm down." He laughs, wrapping his arms around your waist.
"This is what I meant, they're sickingly adorable and Lachlan pisses her off." Preston laughs. Your phone goes off in the hoodie of Lachlan's that you're wearing, and you grab it to check the text and laugh once you read it.
"So Izzy says, 'I've been watching Preston's stream, give him my number ;) And you text me all the damn time about lover boy, he does annoy you a lot. Either way, y'all are adorable'." You laugh.
"Oooh, Preston might be getting a girl." Lachlan laughs. "Thanks Izzy, I can always rely on you." He adds, rolling his eyes.
"We can deal with the whole exchanging of numbers off camera, yeah?" Preston laughs out, now he's blushing because of the situation. "What's all of your lock screens right now?" He reads from the comments. "Well this is mine, it's just the cover to an album I've been listening to a lot." Preston shrugs, showing it to the camera. "What about you guys?" Preston asks, turning to you.
"Mine is a picture of all of my cats in bed with me, Lachlan took it for me." You laugh, showing the photo of you lying in bed, four cats surrounding you.
"Mine is uh, it's a photo of (Y/N) smiling while she gets coffee from Dunkin Donuts. To all of you in America that might not seem like much, but she moved to Australia to be with me and the closest Dunkies to our house is an hour drive. She still gets it basically everyday, but she's so appreciative of it now and it makes her happy, she posted the photo on her Instagram and I stole it for my lock screen." Lachlan says, cheeks flushing again at admitting to the world that you're his lock screen as he shows it to the camera.
"I'm your lock screen?" You ask, a bit shocked as you look at Lachlan.
"Well yeah, what else would it be?" He asks you.
"I don't know... Not me. Maybe like, your car? Or your family? Why is it me?" You ask, feeling so loved in this moment you forget that there is a camera capturing the moment.
"Because I love you, and I want to see your smile everytime I look at my phone." Lachlan shrugs, taking his bottom lip into his mouth not knowing how you'll react to this. He can't tell whether you're freaked out or in awe at the fact you're his lock screen, it's making him anxious.
"I really fucking love you." You sigh out, placing a quick kiss on his lips before pulling away suddenly from Preston shouting.
"Oi! I told them they weren't going to see any of that on my channel. We get it, you two are madly in love and it's adorable, we don't need reminders." Preston scolds, shaking his head.
"Sorry, god I'm sorry I just can't believe how amazing he is." You sigh out blissfully, wanting nothing more than to be having a moment with just Lachlan right now.
"I guess you're forgiven... Lachlan being whipped can't be pinned completely on you." Preston decides, making you smile as Lachlan groans.
"I'm not whipped! How many times do I have to explain this? So what, I love my girlfriend. It's not like she's some gold digger and I'm just following her blindly like a lost puppy, we love each other equally." Lachlan sighs out in defense, burying his face in your shoulder.
"Don't worry, I don't think you're whipped." You comfort, running one hand through his hair to coax him back up.
"Let's leave them be and we can go jam out in my room guys." Preston laughs, standing with the laptop. "They're definitely meant for each other, that's for sure." You hear him whisper as he walks away, making you laugh to Lachlan a little.
"Do you think he knows we heard that?" You ask, removing your hand from his hair and gently pushing his head off your shoulder so you can look at him.
"I don't know." Lachlan shrugs. "I don't care, he's not lying. We're definitely meant for each other, even if I'm not your lock screen." Lachlan laughs, making you pout.
"Fine, I'll make you my lock screen right now." You huff, turning your phone on and going to your camera roll.
"I'm only kidding babe, you don't have to replace your cats with me." He laughs again, though you ignore him as you try to find your favorite photo of Lachlan.
"The problem is I don't have a favorite photo of you, I have multiple favorite photos of you. Like, there's this photo where you're snuggling Crash in bed and I just love it because you're asleep and your mouth is slightly open. But then there's this one, from our one year anniversary and you're all cute with your button down shirt slightly unbuttoned and a beer bottle in hand because it was a great night and it was just all about us and I love it too. Then there's this one, where we were both sleepy and we're in the airport wearing baggie clothes and you're holding me and you're placing a kiss on my cheek. How do I pick one?" You ask, moving your gaze from your phone to meet Lachlan's eyes.
"I guess you do love me too." He mumbles out, making you laugh.
"Was that not obvious enough?" You ask, a playful smile on your face. "I do love you, Lachlan." You say, planting a kiss on his lips before looking back to your phone. "Now c'mon, which photo do I set as my new lock screen?"
"I can hear you two still!" Preston calls down the hall, making Lachlan chuckle.
"Sorry! Not really, but still!" Lachlan calls back, causing you to laugh.
"Leave him alone and choose a picture of yourself, dork." You say, flicking him to get his attention back on you.
"The one of us in the airport, you're in it, I'm in it, it's the perfect picture." He says, making you smile and place a kiss on his cheek. Getting lost in the moment of just you two.
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i'm not op of that 'if you read yaoi' post but i'll take some cute bl recs anyway. i literally only just started reading manga this week and i'd love to add some more titles to my to read list
!!!!
absolutely anon, let me tell you I spent three weeks reading nothing but bl and it was Great and now I have Many recs for you
warning! this is Gonna Be Very Long so my recs’ll be under the cut (bolded ones are my favorites!)
1K Apartment no Koi
24 Jikan Eigyouchuu
After Morning Love and its spin-off Before Daylight Love
Ai ga Love Shite You nanosa(this one is as ridiculous as it is adorable, so fucking funny)
Amayadori wa Basu-tei de
Ameiro no Toge
Ameiro Paradox(this one is still ongoing; i usually hate when love interests do nothing but bicker? but the journalist boyfriends just do something right for me. and Natsume Isaku is just one of my favorite mangakas! love most of her work)
Ano Koi no Tsuzuki
Arashi no Ato
Bikkuri suru hodo Doji na Koi
Body Talk Paradox(the second and third stories are the best ones, really love the art style, it’s very crisp, and one of the side characters/one half of the secondary couple has one of the most unique designs I’ve seen in a BL)
Boku no Ano Ko
Boku to Neko to Hatsukoi Kousa
Bokura wa Sore wo Hitei Dekinai
Chiisana Koi no Melody
Chikatetsu no Inu
Colorful Line
Konbini-kun.(I love Junko’s art style it’s very very cute)
Count 0(boy can see a counter above everyone’s heads that counts the number of lies that person has told in their life and is jaded because of it, until he meets another boy whose counter reads 0, very cute)
Doukyuusei and its sequels Sotsugyousei and O.B.
Doushitemo Furetakunai and its spin-off Soredemo, Yasashii Koi o Suru(Doushitemo is top tier okay, it’s one of my absolute favorites, the romance is lowkey and sweet and they’re just so good ;~;)
Doushiyoumo Nai Keredo
Endou-kun no Kansatsu Nikki
Faraway
Gentei Kareshi
Gosan no Heart and its spin-off Owaranai Fukou ni Tsuite no Hanashi
Gunjou no Subete
Hachimitsu Darling
Hana no Mizo Shiru(very very sweet, I’m pretty sure I teared up at one point)
Hanagaya Eigyousho no Kare
Hand Which
Harapeko Usagi to Koisuru Ookami
Hare no Hi
Hatsukoi (Kakine)(very silly, there’s like four different love stories happening in this one boarding house, it’s great)
Hatsukoi (Kazuki)(so this mangaka has a huge list of Haikyuu doujins they’ve done, and I hadn’t watched Haikyuu before I read this but now that I have I can’t unsee the fact that the main characters look like Kageyama and Hinata lmfao)
Hatsukoi no Atosaki
Heart no Kakurega(the secondary couple are hit or miss but the main couple Izumi and Haru are so pure?? they’re so sweet I love them a lot)
Hibi Koikoi
Himegoto Asobi(I’m a goddamn sucker for single dad falls in love stories and this one is one of the best)
The Iberiko Buta series(this manga is so fucking funny?? the initial couple are cute and hilarious idiots, while the second couple are a bit more lowkey and bittersweet, and overall it’s such a funny cute read)
Illumination(this manga is melancholy in book form, I really love this mangakas writing style, the stories are all bittersweet and its some beautiful, beautiful angst)
Kaeru no Prince-sama
Kakugo wo Kimete
Kanemochi-kun to Binbou-kun (“I fell in love when I was sixteen”. great. thanks manga. now i’m crying.)
Kasa no Shita, Futari
Katappashi Kara Zenbu Koi
Kigurumi Planet (the premise for this one??? is so off the wall and ridiculous lmao this manga has no right to be as good as it is, the couple is very sweet and the story is actually pretty good if you can get past how fucking bonkers the premise is)
Kimi to Aruku
Kimi to Date (short and sweet! I love the art style)
Konya mo Nemurenai and its spin-off Kimi to Kore kara(college boy accidentally summons a demon who decides to stick around so he doesn’t have to go home and marry his childhood friend - I fucking love Konya so much, and the love interest Endo is legit one of my favorite characters, I usually hate assholeish semes but he just pulls it off so well; the spin-off features the secondary couple of Konya)
Kimi wa Natsu no Naka
Kiraboshi Dial
Kirakira no Hibi
Kodomo ga Neta Ato de
Koi made Hyakurin and its spin-off Akunin o Nakaseru Houhou (young heir to his grandfather’s yakuza group starts hero-worshiping an ex-yakuza florist (who now hates yakuza) and eventually they fall for each other - listen this manga was made for me, I love yakuza with a heart of gold and ex-yakuza archetypes so fucking much, i love this manga a lot and the main couple is so sweet; the spin-off features ex-yakuza’s older brother)
Koi ni mo Naranai.
Koi no Hanashi ga Shitai
Koko ni Aru, Kimi no Oto
Konya, Mister de
Kuchizuke wa Niji no Ue de (the premise for this is so cute and unique! a man who’s followed by sunny weather and a man who’s followed by stormy weather meet and decide to go mountain climbing! very cute)
Kurayami ni Strobe
Life, Love (okay listen this one! i did enjoy this one How. Ever. it’s a story where a seemingly not so smart man is made to guard the man that he and his boss kidnapped, and then they maybe??? fall in love over the course of the kidnapping and that’s the first half of the story, and the relationships are very weird and complex and the characters are also weird and complex? and it’s very unsatisfying as a romance but still somehow satisfying? except the ending which left me just shocked laughing like ‘that’s it?????’ and i’m still not sure how i feel about it but i’m pretty sure i liked it and yeah disclaimer over)
Link: Boku to Kimi no Aida
Lotus Eater
Lucky Number 13(okay no this one is so sweet and cute, a huge baseball otaku falls for a boy who is plagued with bad luck unless he’s dating someone, in which case his bad luck transfers to his partner, they’re such a pure couple and it’s a very sweet and funny story and I love it)
Mad Cinderella(this one isn’t totally scanlated :( but there’s still a lot of it scanned and it’s all very cute and worth)
Mahoutsukai no Koi
The Mainichi Seiten Series; Mainichi Seiten, Kodomo wa Tomaranai, Children’s Time, Kodomo no Iibun, Aki-chan no Iibun, Isoganaide, Hanaya no Nikai de(very very slice of life, three couples in all, the first volume is kind of slow and the art is kinda rough and the couple is very chaste but still cute and the art gets better through the series, and the other two relationships are top tier and overall this series is one of my absolute favorites)
Mayoke no Darling
Mazu wa, Hitokuchi.(okay but the premise is a farm that secretly raises flying pigs how amazing is that)
Me wo Tojite 3-Byou
Merry Checker
Motto Aishiaimasho
Nakanai Hotaru
Nee Senpai, Oshiete yo
Negative-kun to Positive-kun
Neko no Koi (I really love young masters who are in love with their less well-off childhood friend/keeper that’s some good shit)
Nennen Saisai
Nichijousahan Bi - Beautiful Life
No Color
Number Call
Okujou no Bye-Bye
Omamori Shimasu, Dokomademo
Ringo ni Hachimitsu and its sequel Kare no Barairo no Jinsei (i really love this mangakas art style and way of writing, very good)
Rutta to Kodama (listen these boys will be the death of me, I love delinquents especially delinquents with hearts of gold, and Rutta is the epitome of that, he and Kodama are so fucking sweet and I just love them so so much, one of my absolute favorites)
Saiyaku wa Boku wo Suki Sugiru(this one is still ongoing! it’s basically a soul mate au where if one half gets injured the other is the one who sustains the injury, turned into a family curse that lasts a year upon the younger one’s 17th birthday, so very very good)
Sannin Gurashi (i love this one it’s so sweet ;~;)
Sawattemo Ii kana (also not completely scanlated and I cry every day because of it)
Sayonara, Heron
Sayonara, Itoshi no My Friend
Seinen wa Ai o Kou
Sense of Love
Seven Days
Shitteru yo.
Shuuden Elegy
Signal
Soko ni Suwaru na
Sonna Me de Mitekure (this one??? is fUCKing ridiculous, I laughed through the entire thing it’s fucking ridiculous omg)
Sono Koi ni wa Wake ga Aru(love!!!! i love this one! so much! stoic but gentle semes are my fucking kryptonite okay and Azuma is that in spades, he and Aoi are just so fucking cute)
Sono Mama de
Sore wa Isshun no Hikari, dewa Naku
Sore o Koigokoro to Yobu no Nara
Sorenari ni Shinken Nan desu.(this is basically a sick fic featuring an overworked single dad and his playboy regular who’s in love with him, literally one of my absolute favorites and I think the first yaoi I ever read? Oosawa and Yoshioka are top tier and it’s just so sweet and feel-good, ugh I love)
Spotlight Lover
Star-like Words
Sugar Code(mix competent yakuza with useless gay and you get Oodoi, it’s beautiful; I love Oodoi and Akira a lot)
Suteneko no Karte
Te o Tsunai de Koi o(”oh you guys don’t get along? okay now you have to hold hands the entire walk home until you do” lmao archery club president knows what’s up)
Tear Drop
The Killer
Tight Rope(i’ve already exposed my love for yakuza and ‘young master in love with his childhood friend’ archetypes which means me loving Tight Rope was written in the fucking stars because Ryuu is b o t h, and I just really love Naoki as well)
Toki no Maigo o Sagashite!(amnesia plot!)
Tsukiatte Agete mo Ii n Dakara ne (this one is f u c k i n g ridiculous, the love interest is a giant fucking ham, it’s r i d i c u l o u s lmfao)
Twinkle (Kanda)
Wakabaryou de, Kimi to
Wakadanna ni Goyoujin
Work In
Yachin Hanbun no Ibasho desu
Yakozen
Yamada to Shounen
Yamete Kudasai,(this one gave me cavities)
Yozora no Sumikko de,
Yuki no Shita no Qualia
Yuugure no Machi
Zantei, Koibito
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xtruss · 4 years
Text
Which Players Have Been The Biggest Losses to Cricket This Century?
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Mohammad Asif, patron saint of what-could-have-beens Getty Images (A Boak Bollock who involved himself in a match fixing crimes and killed his own promising career. Otherwise he would be the most fiercest, formidable, intimidating and dangerous fast bowler of the Cricketing World.)
— Jul 9, 2020 | ESPN Staff
In this edition of Rabbit Holes, Osman Samiuddin, Andrew Fidel Fernando and Sidharth Monga gather for a round of lamentation and breast-beating over cricket's greatest unfulfilled talents and shed tears over what might have been.
Andrew Fidel Fernando, ESPNcricinfo's Sri Lanka correspondent: So, the biggest losses to cricket this century. I think given the people involved in the conversation, this will quickly degenerate into a Mohammad Asif support group. But there are so many others who've not had the careers we all wanted them to have.
Osman Samiuddin, senior editor: Wait, what? This is not the Asif Anonymous Group already?
Fernando: "Hi, I'm Osman, and it's been ten years since I last watched Asif bowl. (breaks down sobbing uncontrollably)"
Sidharth Monga, assistant editor: And the thing is, Asif don't care. Or at least doesn't seem to care.
Samiuddin: Although the thing is, I think Asif does care. In that interview with Umar Farooq it was clear he cares about how people remember him. Maybe just not enough to get bogged down by it.
Monga: He has moved on better than us. Which is him being kinda, "Yeah, this is life, what are you going to do about it?" But I also like that he is turning out in domestic cricket despite there being no hope that he will ever bowl at the highest level again. This is every ball of his first two spells of the QeA final in 2017-18. Cruelly, captained again by Salman Butt, who chose to field first, which is something you don't do in Test cricket these days. And the first two comments on the video!
Samiuddin: For the longest time - and even now - I believe that the careers of Kumar Sangakkara and AB de Villiers would have turned out different had they had to play Asif often.
Fernando: Sanga would have got out cheaply to Asif five times in a row one series and retired in shame in 2012 - that's how your fantasy goes, right?
Samiuddin: Earlier, ideally.
Monga: Hashim Amla, AB and Kevin Pietersen didn't even play him that much, but the little that they did was enough to convince them he was the best bowler they faced. Ahead of all the other legends of the time.
Samiuddin: But with the advances in batsmanship - though, I guess mostly in white-ball cricket - how would Asif have responded? It's not a bad time to be a Test bowler though, so he probably would have been okay still.
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Remember when Asif took 6 for 41 in Sydney in 2010, in a losing cause? Getty Images
Fernando: I do think Asif would have loved some of the tracks Pakistan have played on in the last five, six years.
Samiuddin: The UAE? I mean, imagine Misbah captaining Asif - would he have turned him into an offspinner?
Fernando: Hah, true, but I meant more outside the UAE. Those New Zealand greentops where you can only see the batsman from the helmet up, because of the grass cover. He would also have adored a lot of the tracks Pakistan played on in Sri Lanka, in the middle of the last decade, when they were visiting every other weekend.
Samiuddin: Also can't help but think how he would have gone in Australia. He had one great Test there - in Sydney - but that surface was green that first morning and it had rained and clouds were around, so it was ideal. I think that's probably the last time Australia had anything other than a flat track. His set-ups were like Warne in conception - this one of Clarke especially. He bowled four-five balls to Clarke before this, all good length, on off-stump line, either not seaming or seaming away. Two-three he left alone to keeper. One he drove. This one he tried to drive again and it was the first one that seamed in. So, so, so simple.
Monga: Did you say set-ups? And he did it all without a perfect upright seam the way Mohammed Shami's is. Or maybe bolt upright is not perfect, who knows. Also, Marcus North getting out in three balls reminds me of Asif once saying he is sometimes disappointed with batsmen who don't let him set them up properly and get out before the payoff.
Samiuddin: There was also a great set-up of Shane Watson in a previous Test, where Asif bowled to an 8-1 off-side field for a couple of overs and well wide of off stump. Like, really wide outside. Almost unnoticed he was pulling Watson further and further out to the off side. And then suddenly, when literally nobody was expecting it, he bowled one a little straighter, quicker, it swung in a fair bit. Watson had moved out to off stump in anticipation and the ball ended up missing Watson's leg stump by millimetres. I don't think I would ever have seen a dismissal like that. All that work for one ball and it only narrowly didn't come off.
Fernando: I feel like we could be on Asif all day.
Samiuddin: The point of all of which is that I don't think I have regretted not seeing more of any cricketer than Asif. So that's decided. How about some others?
Though, I mean, Pakistan could put out three XIs of these players who were lost and they could play a pointless tri-series among themselves. Like Mohammad Zahid. Fastest four balls Brian Lara faced in his life.
Monga: Would Umar Akmal qualify?
Fernando: And if we're doing a long Pakistan lamentation, is Fawad Alam in the mix?
Samiuddin: Hundred per cent. Not lost so much as ignored. Overlooked. Spat upon. Trampled.
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Monster on a monstrous pitch: Jesse Ryder cut, drove and hooked to 83 in the 2011 World Cup quarter-final in Mirpur, while other batsmen struggled Getty Images
Monga: But we're drawing the line at Ahmed Shahzad?
Fernando: I'd like to throw two Kiwi names into the mix. Both of whom played 18 Tests. Both players of extreme quality. Lost to the game for reasons very different to Asif.
Samiuddin: Martin Guptill?
Fernando: Hah, no one so painfully vanilla. The first I'm thinking of, of course, is Jesse Ryder.
Samiuddin: Did you not once spend an entire six-month period of your life trying to chase him down?
Fernando: For a potential feature, yes, highly unsuccessfully. He was still playing. And still burning bridges. It was like the story hadn't actually stopped unravelling, so no one really wanted to talk about it.
Ryder just had such an instinctive feel for the game, whichever format he was playing. A rock-solid defence, a brutal pull shot, threw all of himself into those drives. When he middled it, you couldn't actually see the ball before it reappeared outside the boundary rope.
Monga: Underrated bowler and exceptional catcher to go with it. And he sold out stadiums. People came to watch Jesse Ryder.
Fernando: He was a monster at backward point.
Samiuddin: In that 2011 World Cup quarter-final in Dhaka, pitch like porridge - that was the only time I saw Ryder play and, my lord, if that wasn't the innings of that tournament. His timing that day was freakishly good. On that pitch - and the thing is, it's difficult to articulate - the difference in watching him bat and others that day was just so, so vast that you had to question yourself. Like, were you assessing the pitch wrong and were the rest just crap?
Monga: New Zealand is so not the country for Jesse. I remember him scoring a flawless double-century against India in Napier, and then breaking a chair or something in disgust when he got out. You can guess what got reported the next day.
Fernando: So I remember this crazy Ryder innings, where again, at the end, a chair got smashed (after a lot of Sri Lankan bowlers had also been smashed).
Samiuddin: I'm seeing a pattern here...
Monga: If I were the coach I would carry extra chairs.
Fernando: It was in the 2009 Champions Trophy. Ryder pulls a hamstring or a calf very early in this match. I think he was 7 off 7 or something like that. Basically can't run. And so he just starts blasting boundaries. Ten fours and a six - 74 off 58 balls.
Monga: He wasn't much for foot movement anyway, but somehow always played close to his body.
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Forget the batting for a minute: Ryder also took blinders, like this one to dismiss Upul Tharanga in the 2011 World Cup semi-final AFP
Fernando: Opening partner Brendon McCullum, who is supposed to be this shining paragon of Kiwi aggression, ambles to 42 off 74 at the other end. Eventually Ryder gets out, and he's clearly not happy. Just when he thinks he's out of view of the cameras, he absolutely lays into a plastic chair. Just destroys it with his bat. Except, of course, he wasn't out of view. This was seen and replayed many times. I'm sorry but I loved everything about that.
Samiuddin: Actually more than anything else, New Zealand need(ed) Ryder in their team to shed themselves of the "nicest guys in cricket" tag. I mean, yeah, of course, runs and stuff, but they need a guy in that side who does things like that.
Fernando: The New Zealand hill I will absolutely die on is that they would have converted one of their two World Cup finals into a win if Ryder was in the team. I don't blame the people who kicked Ryder out, really, because he's been given chances by many coaches in various continents - both domestic and international - and he's not managed to rein his behaviour in. But if Ryder had managed to improve the behaviour to juuust within that line, I think we would think of New Zealand as one of the great teams of the last decade, instead of just a very good one. And also just the thought of Williamson trying to captain Ryder - there could have been books written and films made just on that relationship.
Monga: I just feel cricket, especially the international variety, is very tough on someone like Jesse. It would have been a miracle if he had survived. Ross Taylor and Ryder were both discovered together. Neither came from a privileged background, but Taylor's privilege was that he had his act together. Mark Greatbatch, one of their earlier coaches, I remember, told me how Ryder was more skilled but Taylor was more rounded as a person. Ryder would throw up in the bin at the nets, Taylor would come home with a bottle of wine.
Samiuddin: Without knowing the details and insider stuff, was he so, so, so difficult to handle that they really couldn't find a place for him in the team at all? Or make it work somehow?
Fernando: They didn't throw him away lightly, tbf. They gave chances. And many people - agents, coaches, mentors - have tried various approaches and it's not worked out.
Samiuddin: I think that is the other point about these players, that they make so much of an impression, you're always left feeling somehow if the others - boards, teams, managers, agents - had just done something else/more he would have been okay.
Monga: More than anything, they also tell us that sometimes you have to accept things as they are. Especially when a team such as New Zealand does all it can get to keep you in. What joy it was to watch him in full flow. But it wasn't meant to be.
Samiuddin: Who was the other Kiwi?
Fernando: Okay, yes, enough Ryder. Someone who was at the other end of the spectrum in terms of temperament, but also glorious to watch in full flow. Guesses?
Samiuddin: Bond. The name is Bond.
Fernando: Nailed it. Like, Shane Bond with his yorkers.
Samiuddin: Bond is long gone as a bowler, but I feel like he's everywhere in the actions of so many modern fast bowlers.
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Shane Bond, destroyer of Australia, failed by his own body Getty Images
Fernando: Huge influence on Tim Southee and Trent Boult.
Monga: Strike rate of 38 but couldn't play enough to get more than his 87 wickets.
Samiuddin: Adam Milne, Matt Henry - all their actions. Naseem Shah.
Fernando: And if we agree that aughts Australia had assembled the greatest ODI batting line up, Bond was the greatest destroyer of that top order. Seventeen matches v Aus: average of 15.79, SR of 21.4, economy rate 4.41 - there's no touching that in ODIs
Samiuddin: Bond, in a very different way, is the epitome of what Monga said earlier, about how it's just meant to be for some. No off-field issues (that I can think of), great guy to have in a team. But just had a body that couldn't sustain it.
Monga: In a way I agree, but you can continue working on the body, you can even come back as a bowler with less pace but more wiles, you can still cut yourself a career, but it is different with mental health.
Fernando: Bond just was incredibly, incredibly fragile, though. I'm not sure even turning himself into a medium-pacer - which he has said he was never interested in, btw - would have worked. There were unusual things as well: I remember he once went off the field in a match with a migraine and couldn't bowl, and caught absolute hell on talkback radio in New Zealand for being soft.
Samiuddin: Incidentally, Bond talked about the injuries stemming - ironically - from that action, in this great piece on him by Rahul Bhattacharya, at the 2007 World Cup. He talks here about losing a little of that pace.
Fernando: His last Test, which was a fantastic game against Pakistan in Dunedin, he blew them away with pace in the first innings, iirc.
Monga: It was a great Test. Akmal was unleashed in this game, right?
Fernando: Yes, Asif took 4 for 43 as well. Pity Ryder didn't play. It would have been the poster Test for everything we've talked about.
Monga: Ryder was a veteran of wistfulness by then.
Fernando: Fawad Alam was in that Test as well! Here's the wicket description from the first dig: "Bond's breathing fire here, he hits the deck hard from over the wicket, lands it short of a length on middle and Fawad barely had time to react and fend it off, he fails to drop his gloves down and the ball shaves his glove before landing safely in McCullum's hands."
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Underrated, but celebrated: would Ryan Harris have had a greater impact had big names not kept him out of the Australian team early in his career? Getty Images
Monga: While sticking with fast bowlers, I have a name that I am not sure you will agree with. It is more down to having been kept out by big names throughout his 20s, but what we saw of Ryan Harris in 27 Tests in his 30s (also cut short by a back surgery, which he went to after taking a last wicket in the dying moments of a momentous Test) makes me wonder with a little disappointment what a great bowler we lost out on.
Samiuddin: Absolutely, only four more Tests than Asif.
Monga: And what an Asif-like bowler too.
Samiuddin: But I also feel with Harris that Australia celebrated him so much, that he was part of so many big moments against South Africa and England - big series - that he kind of lived a full career… which, of course, he never did in reality
Fernando: And I guess that the injuries came at an age when you expect those things to happen to a quick. Whereas Asif's exit seemed so premature.
Monga: His wrist admittedly did less magic than Asif, but his accuracy was stifling. He lived by the Asif philosophy: if I beat the bat, I should be hitting the pad or the stumps; if I take the edge, it should go to keeper or first slip
Samiuddin: Except, quicker than Asif. Always felt Stuart Clark was the more like-for-like Asif bowler
Monga: We love Asif for the highlights reels his wickets make it to, but arguably Harris has provided us with better seam porn. Have a look at this. This also reminds me, I recently saw Harris seam a ball in the IPL. That I would never have believed had there been no video evidence.
Samiuddin: Asif seamed some balls in the IPL too - 2008.
Fernando: What a trip it is now to think that Pakistan players actually took part in the IPL.
Monga: The greatest loss to cricket: Pakistan players missing the IPL.
Samiuddin: Snap.
Fernando: Genuinely, though, they would have changed the dynamic of that tournament so much. And you suspect the IPL would have changed Pakistan cricket as well.
Samiuddin: But the PSL may not have happened also... Or maybe it would have happened earlier.
Fernando: Umar Gul would have cut it up.
Samiuddin: And Sohail Tanvir as the greatest T20 bowler ever?
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Chris Lewis: the blueprint for Jofra Archer? Getty Images
Fernando: Lasith Malinga would still have crushed it, let's not get ahead of ourselves.
Samiuddin: I know I'm being old and boomer-y but Malinga in Tests, I feel, is an unfulfilled thing.
Monga: Malinga would have made a bowler of great spells in Test cricket. Innocuous for long whiles, but then a switch would flick on and he would run through three-four guys in one three-over spell on a humid day at the SSC.
Samiuddin: Yes and that three-over spell would have turned the day, the Test, even the series.
Fernando: If you can hustle a fantastic batsman with a bouncer in Galle, you're a decent bowler. But then with Malinga, it's kind of a double-edged sword. You don't have Malinga if you don't have that action. And you probably can't have that action and a long Test career. What makes him is what breaks him. Unlike, say Bond, who could conceivably have had a long career with a better body.
Samiuddin: Before starting this I had made a list of all the players that would feature here: Shaun Tait, Vinod Kambli, Mohammad Zahid, Asif, Ryder, Wasim Raja, all of South Africa before return, Chris Lewis…
Chris Lewis, man. I watch Jofra and I get strong Lewis vibes. Not in terms of the pace or anything, but in how easily he did things, without showing any signs of the strain and toll it takes on a body. Though who knows how quick Lewis was - no speed guns in his time and he was never celebrated for his pace. But he could bat a bit, great in the field, loose and easy action.
Monga: Did we get enough of Steve Harmison?
Samiuddin: Yes. Harmison played 63 Tests.
Fernando: But I think we've mostly exhausted this chat now. We're dipping into the '90s, and now discussing players who actually had decently long careers. We'll be talking about Kevin Pietersen next. I've just sat in on too many conversations in England about what a loss KP was. And he played 104 Tests.
Samiuddin: In England if you don't play 150 Tests, you ain't nothing.
Monga: And now the rhinos have him. Poor rhinos. Though I think he is actually doing something for them.
Fernando: He's probably trash-talking them behind their backs. Anyway, I think this conversation has degenerated. Like the actions of so many fast bowlers gone before their time.
Osman: Yeah, I think we're done.
Fernando: Let's call it. I don't know about you guys, but I'm going to put on some Asif highlights reels, eat huge quantities of ice cream straight from the tub, and cry myself to sleep.
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