Title: Swing Step
Author: MorriganFearn
Rating: G
Characters: Faroes, Åland
Genre: Romance, Friendship, Fluff
Pairings: Farland
Summary: September 1944. Aland shows up on Faroes' door step, and they talk about anything but the war. Then they dance and talk some more. Romantic fluff, with historical undertones.
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Comments 7
What I really adore so much here is just how much characterization you packed in under 6,000 words. I can't state enough how gifted you are in this respect-all this time and you picked these guys right back up like it was only five minutes. Astrid is just amazingly done. She's still as lovable as ever, but there's a subtle difference in maturity and composure compared to Luck and Lunch. She's done some growing up over three years of war, and it shows. It might just be me, but she's also coming across as a little more womanly too-again, the growing and time spent with Agnes and the others seems to have had an effect. It makes perfect sense when you think about it ( ... )
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"I got a little excited when I was on the pier and decided to challenge the sea to a splashing contest."-I'm torn between making a crack about THAT BOY soaking himself in the essence of Faroes, wondering if he's nuts for jumping into freezing Northern Europe fall ocean water, or admiring his toughness for not seeming at all affected aside from the wetness.
"I assume that we'll get to that sooner or later," Astrid pointed out, shifting back and forth on her heels, trying not to think of greasy sausages and how much she needed to wash ( ... )
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"I know discounts a plenty. I can get what I need from Anko, when he's freed. Hey! What's that expression for? Anko hasn't done anything to you!"-"Yet" being the key word that's missing in this sentence. Also cue THAT BOY sulking because she'd be willing to take her dad's dumb furniture over his that he'd make JUST FOR HER.
"I don't think I know anyone who says 'jolly lucky.' I think it's something the Americans invented to be mean half the time."-Are you sure you didn't mean jolly happy? Because that's totally something Brits do. :3
"So? It's my ( ... )
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Jakob snorted, his bright blue eyes shining glassily as they rose over his bottle to travel up her arm. "No you're not. I'm sensible. I can fish. You run around shouting a lot with a harpoon.-Annnnnnd now I'm back to immature giggling about the harpoon.
Okay, MF, we seriously have a problem. WHY ARE ALL YOUR SENTENCES SO FREAKING AMAZING ONE AFTER THE OTHER? You're making everyone else look bad! *rolls up sleeves in preparation for the dissection ahead*
As always Jakob wore his trees on his skin, and the strength of the seas rolled in his muscles.-*shivers* You know how much I adore your land-as-body imagery, and how you're basically a genius with how well you do it. But this, with the ocean and delicious Ålander toned muscles (thanks Finland!)...welllll...
It was her ( ... )
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"Yes. Alright I think. You look like you're sitting on something painful," Astrid assessed.
"A piece of table, I think."
Astrid tried to get up, but for a while, it was too much effort. And Jakob kept his arms around her.-Just...God, just EVERYTHING about this moment was so perfect I want to print it out and frame it for future generations to treasure. Just the sheer love of it all, and tenderness. Jakob, Mr. "Get Off Me!", fallen so deep and hard for Faroes he's not only accepting contact, he's initiating it and not letting go of her. From him, that's not just love, that's buying a nice ring, going to see her parents for that "sir, I want to make your daughter a happy woman for as long as I live" speech, and picking out the names of their perfect and uber Nordic future children. It's subtle, and exactly in character and basically I'm dying here with how brilliant you are ( ... )
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